#but she still says that its me. that i'm their favorite person ever | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mavsstar · 11 months

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𝑀𝑦 𝑆𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑃𝑒𝑎

Summary ︱Mr. Levinson lives right next door to you, the sweet, innocent college girl. Little do you know that you're Mr. Levinson's favorite neighbor. He's there every chance you need the slightest of help, maybe a little too much.

Pairings︱Mechanic!Ari Levinson x Innocent!Fem!Reader, Robert Pronge x Innocent!Fem!Reader

W.C︱4k

Warnings︱18+ MINORS DNI, Trailer Park AU, it's pretty tame for right now, pet names (Sweet Pea),cursing, reader is scared of Pronge, masturbation (m!) and I think that is all the warnings. Let me know if I missed any!

Author's note︱I am very excited for this series :) This is set around the 90s just because I feel like it fits better with the idea I have going on in my head. It has been awhile since I've written anything so I'm hoping it's not too terrible. I hope you will enjoy this! Feedback is appreciated! Follow my side blog and turn on post notifications :D

“Did you see Mr. Levinson today?” your Mother’s friend, Valerie, asked while wiggling her eyebrows.

“Nope,” you instantly responded. “Have you?”

“Already got my dose of that sexy man.” She smirked while winking at you.

Ari Levinson towered everyone he’s ever met. He stood at a proud 6'6. It was hard to miss the luscious brown locks that fell over his face and the cerulean blue eyes that you could never find your way out of. His beard adorned his jaw and hid the pump rose colored lips he held.

Even when he was doused in motor oil and dirt he was still a beautiful man. He was your neighbor and very well known at the trailer park. Ari was a woman’s walking wet dream come to life.

“He’s already up?” you asked as your eyes bulged out of your head. “It’s like 6 in the morning.”

“Of course he’s up, he’s having his morning coffee.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Only you would know that stalker.”

“It’s not stalking Y/N, it's called being an astute observer,” she retorted. “That’s besides the point, shouldn’t you be heading out by now?”

“I should be but…” you started to answer, looking out the window cautiously, “I have a feeling you know who is outside.”

“If you don’t leave now you’ll be late for work which by the way is in 20 minutes,” she reminded you, pointing towards the clock.

“Please don’t remind me.” You internally groaned as you threw your head back and rubbed your eyes.

After a few moments you finally decided to lift yourself from the couch and head your way out. Goosebumps arose on your arms as you opened the front door. You hated this kind of weather, you couldn’t be without a sweater in the morning but by 3pm you’d be sweating like a dog. You shrugged on your brother's jacket, not bothering to zip it up and closed the front door.

Just as you predicted, the person you dreaded seeing most was standing right outside, Mr. Pronge.

Robert Pronge was your neighbor and lived right across from you. Ever since you moved in he formed the bad habit of staring at you and hitting on you like there’s no tomorrow. From what you heard he was a sick sadistic bastard who liked to torture girls with pleasure. He’s had many lovers enter the trailer but seemingly none of them come back.

You didn’t like the way he makes you feel. It felt like a hungry lion stalking its predator, ready to pounce at any moment’s notice. At the same time you couldn’t help but feel hot. Everytime he was near you, your heart raced from the fear and you felt a pulse in between your legs.

“Morning Princess!” Mr. Pronge called out from his front lawn.

“Good morning Mr. Pronge!” You greeted back but only to be polite. You tried to avoid looking too much at him and instead looked towards the ground.

You heard shoes beating against the ground and you prayed with all your heart that it was someone else running. Luck was not on your side that morning. When you looked up it was the one and only Mr. Pronge.

“Where are you going Princess?” he asked. His breath was minty fresh even though his appearance would say otherwise.

“To work,” you bluntly replied, trying to open your car door.

“Aw Princess, don’t be like that,” he cooed. Once you did get your car door open, he immediately slammed it closed, almost smashing your finger in the process. “I’ll give you a ride. Come on, let's go.”

“I appreciate the offer Mr. Pronge but I can take myself,” you insisted while attempting to reopen your car door.

“Princess…” he warningly said.

Mr. Pronge didn’t like it when people told him no. The word no did not exist in his world.

“I said I’ll give you a ride.”

“Leave her alone Robert!” Ari yelled from his porch, causing the both of you to turn around. “She’s probably late for work!”

Mr. Pronge sighed as he stepped back in defeat. “I’ll take you next time Princess.”

You internally groaned at his comment. He could never leave you alone. Every morning he would play this game with you. On the bright side, you were one of the very few people allowed to tell him no and get away with it.

“Thank you Mr. Levinson!” you yelled as you got in the car.

“Anytime!” Ari walked over to Robert after you drove off. Though his eyes never peeled off from you the entire time.

“You’re always in my way,” Robert playfully commented.

Ari chuckled at the jab. Ari always had to save you from him every morning without fail. “Rob, how many times have I told you to leave the poor girl alone?” He asked as he brought his cup of coffee to his lips.

“I will never leave her alone,” he answered with a proud smirk. “Not until I make her mine.”

“Oh please! You’re old!” Ari jabbed at him. “She’s going to want a hot 20 year old guy not some 40 year old.”

“Her father was not present in her life.”

“What does that have to do with anything?!” Ari asked, confused at Robert’s statement.

“The girl has major daddy issues, Ari,” Robert said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “All I gotta do is caress her a bit, say sweet nothings in her ear and bam! She will fall in love with me.”

“Do that and she will call the cops on you.”

“I’d like to see her try,” Robert remarked as he crossed his arms across his chest. “Besides, why do you care?”

“Because her mother is really starting to get concerned and-”

“Oh that's why you’re concerned!” Robert hooted. “You want to fuck the mom!”

“I do not want to have sex with her mom,” Ari declared with a serious tone. “The woman is stressed enough and I feel bad for her and I feel bad for the girl. I see her peek her head out of the door every morning to avoid you.”

“Ari?”

“Yes Rob?”

“Mind your business.”

The following morning was the same dreadful routine. You were trying to stall, not wanting to face Mr. Pronge though you knew he would be there. He always was. Even when you would try to leave at an earlier time. It’s like he would sleep there and wait for you.

Your mother shoved your car keys in your hand. “Sweetie, you need to go now before you’re late.”

“But what if he’s out there?” you asked with a slight hint of fear.

“Is he still bothering you?!” she questioned, her overprotectiveness coming out. “I’ve had enough, I’m going out there.”

“No! No! No!” you instantly said, jolting your hands out to stop her from taking another step. “Please don’t say anything. Mom please!”

Your pleads were granted. She stayed still as she squinted at the window, sending a silent threat to Mr. Pronge.

“Fine,” she said. “But If I hear or even get the feeling, I’m going to rip his nutsack and his stupid smirk off of him.”

“Wow,” you said with your eyes bulging out in shock.

“Sweetie, you’re too nice and a little bit–how can I put this?” she sarcastically questioned herself as she tilted her head to the side. “Oh yeah, you’re naive.”

“I am not naive,” you muttered under your breath, offended.

“Yes you are,” she said as she was walking out of the living room. “Now go to work!”

You grabbed your bag from the couch and swung it over your shoulder. Your hand went on the doorknob, turning it to open the door. You peek your head out to see if you’re one and only was out there waiting for you.

“He’s not there Sweet Pea!” Ari exclaimed. “You’re safe, you can come out!”

“Thanks!” you yelled from the door, fully stepping out. You confidently walked over to your car, happy Mr. Pronge wasn’t outside to terrorize you. Your happiness was soon cut off when you saw a complete flat tire.

“Dang it!” you cursed to yourself. You peered down at your watch, it was 6:41 A.M. You were trying to calculate how much time it would take to go on the bus and you heard the dreadful sound of boots hitting the road.

“Oh no,” you internally whined.

“Got a flat, Princess?” Mr. Pronge sarcastically asked. “I’ll give you a ride.”

Ari quickly stepped in. “Robert no.” You didn’t even hear him walk over to you. You looked at Ari in shock and sent a cry for help at the same time. “Leave her alone.”

“She needs a ride, I’m giving her a ride. What is the problem?” he challenged, taking a step closer to him.

“You’re not taking her.”

Robert straightened his back and puffed his chest out. “And why not?”

“Because I’m taking her. She was just getting something from her car.” Ari grabbed your bag from your hand and placed his hand on your lower back. “Lets go Sweet Pea,” he said as he guided you to his car, opening the door for you and handing you back your bag.

Robert stood in shock. Ari was taking you. And you let him. Though he couldn’t say he wasn’t impressed, he was just wondering how he did it. That lucky bastard.

The inside of his truck was bigger than you ever imagined. It was dirty and there were oil stains everywhere you looked. Wrenches were scattered across the floor along with bolts and lug nuts. The only thing that was almost impeccable was the air freshener hanging off the rearview mirror but there were five oil stained fingerprints on it.

“Thank you for the ride Mr. Levinson, you didn’t have to take me. I could've taken the bus.”

“Don’t even mention it Sweet Pea,” Ari said. “Plus I don’t think you wanted to ride with Rob now did you?”

“No,” you answered as you shook your head. “He scares me.”

“He scares you?” Ari repeated, barely shocked.

“Mhm,” you confirmed with a small hum. “He’s really big and mean. Everyone says he’s the nicest to me and if that’s true I don’t want to see him when he’s mad.”

“It’s true, he’s the nicest to you.” Ari found it weird when Robert wouldn’t constantly yell at you like he did with other people but he can see why. You’re the sweetest thing ever.

“Is that all?”

“Mr. Pronge used to bring women and–and they would come out screaming and crying. It frightened me.”

Robert used to bring women over all the time. They wouldn’t last for too long. They would run out of the house screaming all kinds of profanities after 3 weeks. You’ll never forget the moment a woman came to your house and asked if you had anything sharp. You gave her one of the knives from the kitchen. 5 minutes later the word asshole was embedded on the side of his car in big, bold letters.

You’ll also never forget the time another woman came to your trailer. She screamed while she banged on the door like a madman. When you opened the door she had red hand prints on her body and a barely carved ‘R’ on her exposed hip. She asked you to hide her because he was coming. Sure enough a minute later Mr. Pronge came, demanding you to show him where she was hiding. Luckily your brother was there to kick him out.

He could see why you were scared. Hell even that scared him a couple of times. For some reason Ari didn’t like the thought of you being scared. Hell, he could barely deal with the fact how uncomfortable Mr. Pronge made you.

When you approached the building Ari parked the car and exited out, lightly jogging over to your side and opening your door for you. He held out his hand to you to help you out of the truck, your hand delicately gripped his and he could feel the rush of dopamine releasing in his body.

“Thank you again Mr. Levinson!” you beamed with a bright smile. You raised yourself on your tippy toes and slightly bounced to place a thank you kiss on his cheek.

An unexplainable warmth rushed through him. The action was short and sweet but it made him feel weak in the knees. He would get cheek kisses from women quite a lot but it never felt like this.

“Anytime Sweet Pea.” He felt himself staring at your eyes for a little bit too long. He forced himself to look anywhere else for a brief second, making sure you didn’t grow uncomfortable. “What time do you want me to pick you up?”

“Oh it’s okay Mr. Levinson, I can take the bus or have my brother pick me up.”

“Are you sure?” he asked you again.

You nodded your head. “Thank you again! You’re a lifesaver.”

“Don’t even mention it,” he waves off.

You muttered a small goodbye to Mr. Levinson before taking off into the diner. He watched you go in with a small smile on his face.

Even though this was your first real interaction, he knew he wasn’t going to get enough of you. You were the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. The whole way back he thought of you. You were like a deadly plague in his mind. A beautiful, rose scented, warm plague.

Luckily your brother was able to pick you up after he got off of work. The next bus was going to come within another hour. When your brother picked you up, he was agitated.

“What happened to your tire?” your older brother asked, not amused at all.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged your shoulders. “I went outside this morning and it had a flat.”

“I helped Mr. Levinson changed the tire, it had 4 nails,” he said in a matter of fact one. “4.” he repeated as he held four fingers in the air.

“I’m sorry,” you weakly apologized.

“You need to pay more attention where you’re driving.”

“I didn’t mean to drive over the nails. There weren’t even any when I drove yesterday!” you protested. “I only drove to the library which is 2 minutes away.”

“So they magically appeared?” he sarcastically asked. “Just pay attention please.”

“I will.”

“You left your bus pass on the table this morning. How did you get to work? ” he questioned you. “Mr. Pronge didn’t take you, did he?” He turned to glance at you with a worried look.

“No, Mr. Levinson did,” you told your brother.

“Did you make it on time?” He quickly glanced at you again, “because you are horrible at giving directions.”

“Hey!” you barked at him. “I am not horrible at giving directions.”

“Yes you are.”

“Well lucky for me I didn’t even have to tell him, he already knew where to go,” you responded, “sure did save me the hassle.”

“Did you thank him?”

“Of course I did, I’m not rude,” you responded, half hurt he would think that of you.

The rest of the ride was short but your brother took the remaining 4 minute drive to lecture you once again to pay attention. You tried to zone him out but he would snap at you, telling you to listen. You knew he did it to annoy you, it was simply too easy to annoy you.

When you arrived at home, you jumped out of the car to look at the tire. Sure you had no idea what you were even looking at but it never hurt. You bent down to look at it and you noticed one thing. It wasn’t patched up like before. It was brand new.

“Are you coming in?” your brother asked you.

You turned to look at him. “Yeah, I just have to do something really quick.”

“Don’t take too long, I’ll be done cooking in 10 minutes.”

“I promise,” you told him before he went inside.

You took out a sticky note, a pen and 50 dollars that took you 4 days to earn. You used the hood of your car as a desk and wrote a sweet but short thank you on the sticky note. Afterwards you walked over to his house and placed it under the surprisingly alive flower pot he had on his front porch.

The both of you didn’t see each other for almost 2 days. You got overwhelmed with work that you barely were in the house. It wasn’t until Ari caught you late at the laundromat.

“Sweet Pea?”

You turned around at the sound of your name. “Oh hi Mr. Levinson,” you greeted him with a huge smile.

“What are you doing here so late?” he asked you though he could barely pay any attention to you at the moment. You wore a thin pastel pink cardigan with a pearly white nightgown that had a bow at the valley of your breasts.

“I forgot to do my laundry this morning and I didn’t have time so I came here after work,” you told him.

“Isn’t it a little late to be working?” he questioned you.

“I’ve been picking up other shifts at work,” you said, “it doesn’t help having the extra money.”

“Speaking of money,” he began to say as he took out the fifty you gave him from his front pocket of his flannel, “you left this on my porch.”

“Yeah it’s for you,” you innocently said, “I noticed the tire is brand new and I’m 90% sure my brother forgot to pay you.”

“It’s your money, I’m not taking it. Here.” He passed the money back to you but you refused.

“Keep it, you changed my tire and I’m paying you for your service.”

“I really can’t—”

“Please,” you begged him with puppy eyes.

You pulled at his heartstrings. It agonized him, he didn’t want to take your money but he also didn’t want to make you sad. But he kept it anyway and stuffed it back into the front pocket of his flannel.

“What are you doing here so late?” you asked him as you bent down and took out your now dry clothes.

His eyes peered down for a quick second and he saw the nightgown riding up, revealing your baby blue panties. His throat went dry and he fought hard to keep his gaze up but it found itself looking back down.

“I–I realized I forgot to wash my work clothes.”

“I hate when that happens.” You came back up after you pulled out the last piece of clothing. “Then I’m stuck getting yelled at by the manager when I come in with the wrong clothes.”

Ari chuckled to avoid an awkward silence. Really it was to refrain himself from stuttering or making a fool out of himself. In his head he wanted to compliment you and how pretty your nightgown was but the words wouldn’t leave the tip of his tongue.

He took a deep breath before he spoke. “You look pretty in your nightgown,” he quickly muttered out.

Your eyes lit up at his compliment. “Thank you Mr. Levinson. It’s pretty but I don’t think I’ll keep it.”

“Why’s that?”

“It always rides up and by morning it’s all the way up here,” you pointed to your upper stomach.

Oh what he would give to be a fly in the room in the morning. He quickly changed the conversation, it was obvious you were too oblivious to what you were doing to him. Your sweet voice and innocence were driving him insane but he loved it, he secretly wanted more.

The both of you left the laundromat 40 minutes later. He insisted on carrying your basket for you. You both walked side by side. You were busy trying to keep up with him while he was busy looking down at your breasts.

“Thank you for carrying my basket Mr. Levinson,” you thanked him as you took your basket from him when you got to your front porch.

“Anytime Sweet Pea.”

You kissed his cheek once again to seal your thank you. “Sweet dreams Mr. Levinson.”

“Sweet dreams honey,” he repeated to you.

Ari was in a rush to get back to his trailer but a dear beloved friend was waiting for him.

“Well would you look at that?” Robert sarcastically asked him. “She gave you a kiss on the cheek.”

“Not now Robert,” Ari pleaded, dying to get back into his place.

“What’s the big rush to get back home?” Robert crossed his arms as he smirked, “I see you’re sporting a hard on. Surely it can’t be because of her. Right?”

“Oh shut your trap.”

“It is, isn't it?!” he gawked.

“No it’s not!” Ari protested.

“Oh really?” Robert Challenged as he squinted his eyes.

“I was about to get lucky with Kim before she came into the laundromat and interrupted us,” Ari quickly lied.

“So you waited for her to be done then walked her back?” Robert questioned Ari.

“Of course I did,” he scoffed, “otherwise she would’ve ran into you. Not to mention she’s terrified of you, fuckin’ creep.”

“Whatever. She wants me, I know it,” Robert boasted.

“Yeah in jail.”

Robert rolled his eyes and walked back to his trailer while Ari walked back into his. He immediately locked the door behind him and dropped the basket on the floor.

“Oh thank god,” Ari hissed as he unzipped his painfully tight pants.

His cock was rock hard and had been for the past 20 minutes. The pants barely gave him any friction and if anything, made it worse. He palmed himself through his boxers and moaned in relief.

All he can think about is you in the short nightgown and how he’s never been this hard before. Sure he’s been turned on but it was nothing compared to this. It was like he was a horny spazzy teenager all over again.

He freed his cock from his boxers and sharply inhaled at the impact of the cold air. The tip of his cock was bright red and oozing with precum. He used his thumb to spread his precum and use it as lube.

His eyes screwed shut in bliss when he began pumping up and down. He tried to think of the porn he watched three days ago but instead you kept popping up. He imagined you being here with him, helping him out.

“Does that hurt?” you ask him as you point to his angry, leaking cock.

“It does Sweet Pea,” he rasped out.

“Was it because of me?” you innocently ask him as you bat your lashes.

“Yes,” he admits.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” you apologize to him. “Let me help you,” you tell him as you take his cock into your tiny, warm hand.

“Oh Sweet Pea,” he moans out.

“You’re s-so bi-big,” you sputter out, slowly pumping him up and down. “Does that feel better?”

He doesn’t have the strength to talk so instead he nods eagerly. “G-Go a little bit faster.”

You obey him and start pumping faster. His moans fill the room as he gets lost in the pleasure you’re giving him. Your hand is cramping but you don’t care, anything to make him feel good.

“Sweet Pea, I-I’m about to cum,” he warns you.

You get down on your knees while you still pump him. “Let it all go,” you seductively say as you open your mouth.

Ari was brought back to reality when his high overtook him and he orgasmed. It was so intense his thighs started to shake. He continued pumping and pumping until he got too sensitive he had to stop.

He stood there with his cum dripping down his hand and secretly wishing you were there to help clean it all up. The realization had hit him hard, he needed you.

2K notes · View notes

cryptidghostgirl · 3 months

Note

Are your requests still open? I was hoping for a request for a Lucifer x sinner reader where she was once in love with someone when she was alive but they betrayed her leading to her death causing her to be afraid of letting others in. She's been a resident of the hotel since the pilot, but doesn't really talk much about her feelings or past life but is convinced by Charlie who says singing helps her when she needs to get out her own emotions. So when she thinks everyone is gone for the day on one of Charlie's bonding field trips, she uses the piano in the main area to sing her heart out, not realizing Lucifer decided to stay. The song I'm thinking of is "Perfect Doesn't Last" by Beth Crowley. So when she sings it and he overhears listening and watching her he's reminded of Lilith and feels for the reader understanding her more than when they first met during his first visit to the hotel (ep 5). I'm not sure of how to end it, so if you want to add anything to it I'm totally up for it. I just thought this song would match him so well.

A/N this is my first time writing for this man. Also,, i think it’s so funny that everyone is just like “short king” even tho alastor is canonically at least seven feet tall and charlie is at least like six feet tall. that’s so silly of us.

Encore (Lucifer x Reader)

Paring: Lucifer x Reader

Warnings: Domestic abuse briefly mentioned.

Word Count: 2,169

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Lucifer had just wanted to visit Charlie. With their relationship on the up and up, he was eager to not give up his chance to fix things with his favorite and only daughter. However, when he arrived at the hotel, throwing the doors open in unadulterated excitement, it was to find the normally busy lobby area empty.

The door fell shut behind him and his smile slipped from his face. Carefully, he ran his eyes over every inch of the room. There really was no one to be found.

"Maybe they're just all in their rooms, yeah." he said aloud to himself, "Charlie is probably... in her office! It must take a lot of work to run a place like this. Yeah, that's what it is."

Charlie, Vaggie, and Alastor had asked her to come with them to the movies. It was supposed to be a reward, for how hard they had all been working. They had really tried their best to convince Y/n to join them but, as always was the case when activities that took them out of the hotel were not required, Y/n had declined the offer.

Y/n was still getting used to Hell in all its big scary wonder, she still hurt. Everything was so complicated and while spending time with her thoughts didn't make her feel good per-say, spending time with others had been making her feel even worse. Besides, Charlie had given her some advice a few days ago she wanted to test out and she didn't exactly feel comfortable doing that while the hotel was crawling with people.

Y/n trusted Charlie. She was the first person to have extended a kind hand in her direction since her arrival in Hell. When Charlie had found out Y/n had been a concert pianist in the living world, she was elated.

"That's perfect!" she had said, leaning across the desk towards her, "We have a piano in the Hotel's auditorium!"

"I... I don't know if I really can... perform, right now. If that's alright." Y/n had replied, wringing her hands and unable to keep eyecontact.

"What? Oh no! That's not what I meant at all. It just seems... well if you did it for a living, you must have loved it. And it seems like you always have a lot on your mind, lots of stuff to process, and I know you don't like talking to people about it and, well, music always makes me feel better. It feels freeing, like I'm getting everything bottled up inside me out when I sing."

"I... I don't think I've ever really thought about it that way." she had admitted in response, "It was just something I had always done. I started lessons when I was three."

"Well, you should try it some time." Charlie had smiled back, "Maybe it will help."

Once she was sure everyone was gone and the hotel was hers alone, Y/n had slipped quietly from the confinement of her room. It had taken her a bit to find the auditorium. When she finally did and saw the piano it held, her breath caught in her throat.

It was a beautiful old baby grand made out of a warm cherry wood that matched the hotel's theming well. The lid had creaked when she had opened it, the keys had been dusty to the touch.

It had been a long time since she'd played. With mild joy, she let her fingers run the usual scales and arpeggios, finding a comfort in the familiarity of it all. Once satisfied her fingers were all warmed up and ready to play something real, she posed them over the keys.

Lucifer had lost himself in the depths of the labyrinthine hotel. The twists and turns of the hallways were unfamiliar to him despite the tour Charlie, Vaggie, and Alastor had lead him on. His hope at finding his daughter and spending some time with her had long since flickered out. He was on the verge of going home, his hand half raised to open a portal, when he heard it.

A faint echo of music flooded the hallway and Lucifer froze. It was haunting and distant, it drew him in. His sights set on a new sort of entertainment for the afternoon, he listened carefully and began to follow the sound.

As he got closer to its source, Lucifer realized that who ever was making the music was not just playing the piano but singing. Their voice was soft and lovely, nearly ethereal in its sheer humanity and anguish.

I would have bet on us

We were untouchable, you and I

I couldn't get enough

It was a fairytale come to life

Lucifer at last reached the half open door to the room the music appeared to be coming from. Not wanting to disturb the artist just yet, he transformed into a snake and slithered his way silently into the room. There, sitting at the piano on the stage, was Y/n.

I had your heart

At least that's what I thought

Now I'm second guessing every moment

Wondering where we went so wrong

He didn't really know much about Y/n except that she was new to Hell. Charlie had mentioned off hand that she had died in an incident of domestic abuse. Lucifer had no idea why she had ended up in Hell or what she was really like. When he had visited the hotel the first time, Y/n had been quiet and reserved. She had stood to the side and watched, barley even introducing herself to him.

At first, he had thought it to be disrespect. Not every demon in Hell was his biggest fan after all and while he was used to it, it still stung that even one of his daughters would be reformed sinners would be blatantly rude to him. He had quickly realized however from her flittering eyes and the way she clutched at herself that it wasn't disrespect at all. Y/n had been nervous.

Of course, Lucifer had made an attempt to make her feel more comfortable but, when he had extended his metaphorical hand, Y/n had just closed herself off even further. According to Charlie and Angel Dust, that was just what the demoness was like. She was shy.

You got inside my head

Taking up every inch of space

'Til there was no room left

Her hands flew across the keys with a practiced grace. Lucifer felt she knew he was there, watching. He felt that she just might be performing for him.

So many parts of me erased

You had my heart

And tossed it in the dirt

As he listened to the words she sung, they resonated with him. For a split second, he could have sworn it was Lilith sitting there at the piano, not Y/n. He shut his eyes, shaking his head slightly. He was oddly grateful when he opened them again to find it had just been his imagination.

Now that was a first. Since Lilith had disappeared seven years ago, Lucifer had been a mess. Lucifer was always a mess but, Lilith leaving like that really did him in. She had been his rock, his guiding light, his everything. He had risked everything for her and he had lost. At least, back in the old days, he had gained something out of the chaos. A daughter, a wife, a world to try and shape. One after another, they were all taken from him. Even now, even with their relationship improving the way it was, he felt Charlie slipping away again.

Now I'm second guessing every moment

Wondering where we went so wrong

I just keep asking

Would this have been worth it if I knew the ending all along.

Without really thinking about it, Lucifer retook his normal form and sat down in one of the auditorium's front row seats. Thankfully, Y/n was too wrapped up in her own world to notice and she just continued to play.

What started so perfect was over too fast

I should have seen the warning signs

'Cause perfect doesn't last

Perfect doesn't last

Light shined off her face, that was how Lucifer had realized she was crying. Despite the tears, her voice never wavered. A performer at her core, just like him.

I would have bet on us

We were untouchable, you and I

As the last lingering notes echoed through the room, he began to clap. Y/n jumped at the noise, turning to face him with wide eyes and cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. Lucifer was undeterred and, getting to his feet, gave her a standing ovation. After a few moments, he ceased in his applause.

"That was beautiful." he said, breaking the new silence that had fallen between them.

"Um, I'm sorry." Y/n's gaze fell back to the piano.

"No! No no no!" Lucifer exclaimed, jumping up onto the stage.

He kneeled before her, lifting her hands from her lap and taking them in his own. She turned to him, surprise drawing out the features of her face once again.

"Don't apologize for taking up space."

"I... I just didn't mean to disturb you is all. If you're looking for Charlie, she's out at the movies with everyone else."

"I was but, I can talk to her later, when she gets back. You didn't disturb me at all, Y/n. As I said, it was beautiful. It was..."

He trailed off, the smile slipping from his face.

"Oh fuck!" Y/n exclaimed, "I didn't mean to upset you! I'm really sorry, what can I do to make it better?"

"You didn't upset me." Lucifer shook his head, "You just... somehow managed to put words to the very things I've been struggling with the past couple years."

A smaller, much kinder and more genuine smile made its way onto his face.

"If you'd like to play more, I'd love to hear it."

Y/n's cheeks flushed red again.

"Theres no pressure." Lucifer shrugged, "Just giving you the option."

"An audience of one... well, it's a little intimidating." she admitted bashfully, "I'm used to the faceless mob of the crowd."

"I can see why. You have an undeniable gift."

"I guess... I don't know. Charlie just said it might help me process stuff. To play again, I mean."

"Was she right?"

Y/n paused in thought for a moment before nodding slowly.

"I think she might have been. My chest does feel a little lighter now."

"Then play."

"Um, mister... king of Hell? Sir?"

Lucifer laughed.

"You can just call me by my name. No formalities necessary. 'Mister king of Hell sir' was my fathers name."

Y/n laughed lightly at his terrible joke. The sound sparked a sudden joy in Lucifer's chest, one he hadn't felt in quite a long time.

"Well, Lucifer." she began again, stumbling a bit over his name.

"Yes?"

"I'll... um, I'll need my hands back. If I'm to keep playing."

"Wh..."

He looked down and his eyes widened. Lucifer hadn't realized he had still held her hands in his. Immediately he dropped them, getting to his feet and looking away in mild embarrassment.

"Sorry, about that."

"Don't apologize for existing." Y/n parroted his earlier words.

When he turned back to her, it was to find she was smiling slightly.

"How bad would it be if I said sorry again right now?"

"You'd be sounding like me."

"Lets make a deal then: no sorries unless something is actually wrong."

"What if I can't tell if your mad at me or not?"

Lucifer looked down at the seated demon. In not one of his wildest dreams could he ever imagine being mad at her but, that wasn't exactly something he could say.

"Then you can always ask."

"And you promise you wont lie to me?"

"I promise."

"Promise promise?"

"Yes!"

She eyed him suspiciously for a moment before nodding her head. Turning back to the piano, her hands found their place on the keys once again. She hesitated.

"I..." Y/n shot Lucifer a look over her shoulder, "Thank you."

"Thank you. There is some solace in knowing someone else out there feels the same way I do, if for different reasons."

"Yeah. There is, isn't there? Maybe part of our deal can be helping each other figure that all out too."

The suggestion had been half thought out. Y/n hadn't really meant to give it a voice, it had escaped her locked lips. She quickly turned back to the piano.

"Sorry. That was dumb."

"What did we just say about sorries!" Lucifer exclaimed, "No apologizing for existing. I think that suggestion sounds rather nice."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Okay. I... I'm actually going to play now. Is that okay?"

With a snap of his fingers, Lucifer reappeared in the seat he had previously inhabited. He crossed his legs, resting his hands on his knee.

"Whenever your ready."

----

Song is Perfect Doesn't Last by Beth Crowley as requested :)

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heartfullofleeches · 6 months

Text

Creep Yan meets the sweet angel that is Clown Darling-

It was an accident. They swear it to their grave.

A left instead of a right somewhere down the twisting, spacious corridors of the convention center. They could've sworn they followed the receptionist's directions down to the letter, but playing back her voice in their head they're starting to believe she just made up whatever she could to get them to leave. What should have led them to the hall holding the annual concert for their favorite idol group had in actuality brought them to a another venue with an entirely different type of star.

The clown's smiling face was plastered on every wall. Children and young adults of all ages walked in hand with their guardians wearing the same face paint or best imitation of the entertainers outfit they could readily obtain. There were others closer to their age, but none as out of their element as them. Collectors exchanging priceless goods: bonding over favorite moments from what sounds to be a show. Is this what they're like with people who share the same interests? When they're apart of the crowd it feels normal, but how could a kid's show have such an effect on grown adults? They feel like such an outcast - and they know others know they are too. They can hear the words behind every stare throw at them.

"What are they doing in here...."

"Creeps like that are exactly what it's difficult to bring kids to public events."

"Freak."

They stumble through the booths, searching desperately for the exit they lost sight of shortly before realizing where they were. Tears obscure their vision as they collapse next to a row of chairs left out for guests. The concert had to have started by now and at this raise they'll never make it before the doors close. They finally had the chance to see their favorite group in person and now it was gone. Why did they ever think the universe would give them a opportunity for better after an eternity of hell. At this rate it would be better to just go home....

Hic....hic...

Soft cries bellow from the body sitting next to them. They wipe at their eyes with a striped handkerchief, careful not to smudge their face paint. From their mismatch shoes to their brightly colored clothes it was easy to pin them as another cosplayer, but there was something more... authentic about their wear. They cry silently into their hands without spilling a tear.

"Are....are you okay?"

The clown looks up at them, sighing heavily. "Oh, I'm alright. I'm just sad because you're sad. I've seen so many happy faces today and you're the first I've seen upset. It's enough to bring a tear to anyone's eye."

They tighten grip the strap of their bag. "I... can go somewhere else..."

"No, no!" The clown bounces to their feet and takes their hands - startling them. "I'm not saying that because I want you to go away. I'm saying that because I want to make you feel better, silly! Why don't we start with you telling me what's wrong?"

"It's nothing.... You don't want to hear about stuff like that it's depressing."

"Hm... can I at least try to make you happier?"

"You can try..."

"Great! Repeat after me."

The clown clears their throat as they kneel.

"When I'm feeling lonely, or think I just might frown. I think think a thought that means a lot and then I feel less down.

The clown's smile reaches the painted circles on their cheeks. "Its the song I teach all my new friends. Now you try!"

"When I'm feeling lonely...."

"Or think I just might frown."

"I think a thought that means a lot."

"And then I feel less down." The clown squeals as they clap they hands together. "Yay! You did it! And very well if I may add. How do you feel now?"

They pause for a moment, lips moist as they think about their mother's chocolate cake. There's still a slice left in their fridge. "A little better...."

"Now, tell me a thought that makes you feel better."

"Well... I really like listening to music...." Their smile is gone as soon as it came. "I actually came to see a concert today, but I got lost...."

"Concert? You mean like those sweet girls next door? Haha, you can hear them right through the walls? I guess it is difficult with all the screaming kids. Come on, I'll take you!"

They place their ear against the wall. Sure enough, music and the roars of the crowd blare through the structure. They cup their hands around their ears to hear better and decipher if their favorite song has already played - yanked from their seat before they can properly make out a single note.

"Come on, Come on!"

The clown giggles, clutching their hand as they skip and excuse their way through the crowd - promising younger guests their full attention upon their return with a quick hug and a free sticker. It's all the time the person they drag with them has to recuperate before being pulled along again.

"Wait... please... I can't...."

"We're here!"

Catching their breath, they look up to see the still open doors of the concert hall as people pour in and out. The bouncers stop a few of them to inform them of the doors' closing in five minutes. They made it... They actually made it... Tears of happiness catch in their lashes, sweeped away by a striped cloth.

"Are you still sad? I know you missed the opening act, there's still more..."

"No... These are happy tears... Thank you.. Thank you!"

The clown's laughter reaches the deepest depths their heart. "Anything for a friend! Come see me again if you're ever in any trouble..... Oh! I almost forgot something!"

The clown reaches into their pocket and pulls out a small, plastic badge. They pass it over to their new friend who inspects the smiling rainbow and letters engraved into it.

"Y/n the clown's helper of the day."

"That's a little token I give to the best of my little helpers..." The clown lends in, covering their mouth with one hand as they whisper. "Don't tell the kids - I give one to everybody."

They reach into their bag, grabbing their wallet. The clown quickly stops them.

"It's free, Silly! If you wanna pay me back, just have a good time, okay?"

The clown winks before walking off back to their hall - but not before passing out stickers to the bouncers who thank them for it and the water bottles they brought earlier. The dumbfounded individual they leave behind looks down at their hand - then the open doors of the concert hall. They sheepishly reenter the venue they came from, approaching the first merch with physical discs they see.

"Hello, I'd like to buy a copy of all available seasons you have."

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere oc #yandere #yandere blurb #clown reader #yandere drabble

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haechwrites · 1 year

Text

sugar, butter, & the royal crown - L.DH

prince!lee donghyuck x baker fem!OC (no name!)

synopsis: prince donghyuck only has one princess on his mind, but she's not actually a princess. she's just the royal baker's granddaughter.

wc: ~17.1k

warnings: pet names used only so i don't have to namedrop lol. no other warnings tho!

A/N: this is my second longest fic i've actually finished hehe i'm really happy with this one and now i wish i had a prince haechan lol

-- some things to note first:

THIS FIC IS WRITTEN IN FIRST PERSON. if you see ♔, that means it's in haechan's pov written in third person!

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

As a child, life is all about the simple pleasures. It didn’t matter that I’d come home to a dark house carrying the faint snores of my mother. I was still reeling from the sweet taste of mangoes on my tongue, the slight dusting of sugar in my hair, and the lingering soreness from laughing in my cheeks. I’d quickly wash up, give my mom a quick peck on the forehead, and tuck myself in bed. Before I know it, the sun greets me again and I meet my grandma outside as she leads me to the palace. This was my routine and for my young brain, there was nothing ever wrong with it.

My grandma is the head baker at the palace. Since the separation of my parents, I have spent my days with my grandma at work. It was all I knew and I was content with it. Every sunrise, I’d have 30 minutes before I had to meet her outside. Together, we’d walk to the palace’s servant entrance and my grandma would give our favorite guard, Doyun, a warm smile and a promise to slip an extra pastry in his meal for letting me tag along. I’d walk past him with a finger to my lips asking him to be sworn to secrecy. He’d always return it with a wink and a small laugh. It was our little promise, though I’m sure no one would actually mind an extra guest on the grounds – especially a mere 7-year-old.

Once inside the kitchen, I strap on the apron that the palace’s tailor secretly made specifically for me. Grandma told me that the busiest times in the kitchen were the mornings, so I always sit in the corner to let her start the day. I occupy myself for at least an hour before my friend comes to play with me. His entrance is always the same: a secret knock on the side door and a gleaming smile when I open it for him.

Today he’s dressed up in a super fancy garment, almost like a uniform. I had never seen him in anything other than his casual button-up and pants, typically covered by an extra adult-sized apron we’d find laying around.

“Donghyuck! What are you wearing?”

“Princess!,” He’d squeal, pulling me into a tight hug. “It’s my special outfit.”

“Is it your birthday?” My nose scrunches in confusion, looking him up and down. Even if it was his birthday, I can’t imagine his servant parents could afford such expensive fabric.

Donghyuck laughs before yanking a spare apron off its hook and pulling it over his head.

“Nooo. I have something important to do today. That’s why I’m wearing this,” He explains, looking a little nervous.

“Oh wow. You look like the King. Or like a prince,” I say jokingly, but Donghyuck freezes. His eyes are wide like the time he accidentally ate the last mango tart I was saving.

Then he breaks out into an awkward laugh and smiles wide at me, “I am a prince… because you’re my princess.” He says with utmost confidence, before grabbing my hands. We’re standing the way I position my two play dolls during a pretend wedding ceremony.

I quickly turn the shade of freshly baked cherry pies and I tear my hands out of his hold.

“Donghyuck-ah! How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that?” I huff, crossing my arms.

He snickers, “Hmmm… maybe one hundred more times.”

“One hundred more times?!”

“Yes, if you can even count that high,” he smirks, instantly easing the tension from earlier. He plops down onto my stool and looks up at me. “So what are we playing today? Or should we read? Or does Baker Grandma need help?”

I aimlessly kick the leg of the stool, thinking about what we could do today as I can see him anxiously bounce around in his seat. He looks like he’s running on limited time today. Sometimes Donghyuck disappears on me in the middle of our hangouts or doesn’t show up at all. I just assume his parents need help with their tasks just like how Grandma often calls me to help her bake. He’s never told me where in the palace they work despite the years we’ve been hanging out.

“What if we help your parents today?” The minute the question leaves my lips, I hear a snort from the kitchen staff and Donghyuck goes into a coughing fit as if the flour seeped into his lungs.

I begin to feel myself turn red again and wondering what was so wrong till I feel a familiar warm hand on my shoulder.

“Ah Donghyuck, you’re here today?” My grandma looks at his attire with a suspicious gaze. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Her hands are on her hips and it feels similar to the times she’s caught me using the oven on my own.

Donghyuck starts shyly giggling while fiddling with the oversized apron my grandma is reaching to remove. I stand there in confusion as he looks like a puppy that was told he wasn’t allowed to play or have a treat. I want to help him but the look on grandma’s face is too scary to fight.

She’s slowly ushering him out the door and I’m holding his apron in my hands, watching him pout.

“Bye Hyuck,” I mutter, sad that our day was cut short before it even began. This was the quickest that one has ended.

“Byeee Princess,” He says with as much despair in his voice. He always has to be a little more dramatic than me. I giggle and wave him goodbye, spirits lifted by his antics. I see a smile grow on his face at the sound of my laugh before my grandma closes the door.

My loneliness returns as I stare at the wooden panels of the side door.

“Did he have to go?” I ask, slumping back onto the stool he was just on.

My grandma turns to me with a quizzical look. I can’t tell if she’s angry, sad, or disappointed and then she’s crouched down in front of me. Her flour-coated hands are resting on my lap.

“Donghyuck got called by his parents. They’re very important people,” She starts slowly. Grandma has never talked about Donghyuck’s family or personal life before. It was never brought up in the past because I assumed he was just like me. Now that we’re finally beginning to talk about it, the hesitant look on her face makes me not want to know anymore.

“Guards?,” I ask. To me, Doyun is the most important worker in the castle as he freely lets me in and out. Maybe guards earn enough to adorn such fancy clothes I saw Donghyuck wear.

“No, honey,” She glances back at her staff, and I notice they’ve been watching. They give me a reassuring smile, but there’s uneasiness quivering on their lips.

“Donghyuck… Donghyuck is the Prince.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

They found him. Donghyuck’s personal guards find him where they usually do when he escapes his tasks, and that would be at the palace kitchen. This time, they find him outside the door, rather than inside scarfing down mango tarts.

Without any hesitation and with no room for him to trick them and run, they grab the tiny prince and bring him to the meeting he was meant to attend with the King. It was meant to be the first glimpse of his life as a future ruler, attending meetings with fellow diplomats and other boring princely things. Donghyuck does not understand why he can’t spend his day playing like a regular 7-year-old with his pretty friend from the kitchen.

Despite having complained and whined his way out of most duties, Donghyuck had reached the level of maturity to know that this one he couldn’t fight. I mean, the tailor adjusted his royal attire just for this one-hour meeting. After having come to terms with sitting in boredom for an hour, Donghyuck did not expect to be dragged into more as he was about to skip his way over to the kitchen once the diplomats left.

“And where are you off to now, Donghyuck?”

He freezes in his tracks and a shiver ripples down his spine at the sound of her voice. He’s been caught again.

He spins around, plastering the biggest smile possible on his face. “Nowhere, Mother. Just strolling around until my tutoring session.” He hopes she doesn’t recognize this path to the kitchen.

“And is your tutoring session located in the kitchen today?” She asks, words dripping with a patronizing attitude. Nothing Donghyuck isn’t used to.

“Oh! I wanted to see if I could get a quick snack before. My brain needs food, right?” He hides his crossed fingers behind his back, praying she doesn’t call his bluff.

“And you’re not just going there to see that girl, are you?” She takes a step closer and Donghyuck is scared she can see the drip of sweat beginning to trickle down his forehead. How did she know about Princess? He wonders if his guard ratted him out… even after Donghyuck gave him half of his tart. The betrayal, he scoffs.

“There’s no girl, Mother.” Donghyuck decides it's best to deny it and stare straight at his feet.

“You are correct, there will never be a girl. Instead, there will be a future queen. A princess for now and you need to begin meeting our potential suitresses,” The queen firmly states, grabbing his shoulders to steer him towards the library. Before he could stop himself, his chest bubbles with heat, and his brain is fogged with confusion. He can’t imagine anyone by his side but her.

“Why can’t she be my princess?”

The words spill out from his royal lips before he could catch them. There’s no missing the instant look of rage and disgust on the Queen’s face when her son’s true desires are revealed. Desires of the heart, but a complete disgrace to his duties as the Prince. Her eyes grow colder and her skin pales till her blush is the brightest hue on her cheeks.

Donghyuck feels his throat go dry and the crossed fingers behind his back unlock. No luck can help him now.

“No more kitchen visits, Prince Donghyuck.”

The queen’s words are final. His shoulders slump lower and his feet are heavy as he drags them across the cobblestone trailing toward the library. It feels like there was a wall that slammed into the ground behind him, forbidding him from seeing her again.

“Yes, ma’am. No more.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

^ FIFTEEN YEARS LATER ^

The only memory of my childhood that lingered was the heat of the oven. Like I did every day at the age of 7, I continued to bake to keep that fire alive. There were days where the warmth was cooler than normal and my urge to bake waivered. Days like when my grandma stopped showing up outside my house every day a half hour after sunrise. Days like when my mother decided I was too much to raise when I stopped spending my time at the palace. And days like the one when I moved out of the city to live with my dad.

However, there were also days where the flame was ablaze. Days like when I got my own personal baking set. Days like when I got accepted into a baking school. And days like today, where I return to the city that pushed me out fifteen years ago to open a bakery. Despite the dismal circumstances of the day I left, I always felt the urge to return. It never felt right that I moved in the first place. Confusion still envelops my mind when I think about how my grandma stopped taking me to the palace for unsaid reasons and how my mother was incapable of taking care of me due to it. There had to be something more going on.

Outside of this mystery of my childhood, my main goal was to return with my own bakery specializing in my soon-to-be infamous mango tarts. I had visited the city for the first time since my move before to scope out bakery locations. But today was the day that I officially move in, to both my home and bakery, and kickstart my business. My first task was to put up a sign displaying the bakery’s name.

“Oh my goodness… so it is true!”

Warmth blooms in my chest; I would recognize that voice anywhere. I flip around and I’m greeted with her same sugary sweet smile. My grandma looks just as she did before but her hair is dusted white like the flour she worked with. But she still smelled like spiced apple pie, my eyes watered in disbelief.

“Grandma!” I ran into her open arms and I could feel her chuckle.

“Oh honey, it’s been much too long. Look at you now… a beautiful woman before my eyes,” She’s smiling widely and I can see her eyes take in my features. Fifteen years worth of change and growth.

“I’m sorry we haven’t been in contact much. I could barely find the time to tell you I was coming back.”

“It’s alright. All that matters is you’re here,” Grandma rubs my arms reassuringly. “And are you here alone? Or have you moved back with a lover?” The childish gleam on her face makes me giggle and I quickly correct her that I’m single and focusing on my baking.

“Ah, I see. In that case, you must have more time than I anticipated. You must come with me to work one of these days. Just like old times. Consider it research for your bakery.” The way she sways with excitement makes it hard for me to turn it down, and I can’t deny the flutter in my heart at the idea of stepping foot onto the palace grounds again. It was where it all started for me. I agreed with a smile.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

After a week of prepping the bakery, I decided to visit my grandma. To be completely honest, outside of the work I had to do, my nerves did play a role in keeping me from going earlier. But now that I’ve decided I’ve run out of excuses, I’m walking to the servant entrance of the palace a little before noon to give my grandmother the morning to solely focus on work. It makes me smile knowing I still remember the schedule of the palace kitchen.

The streets surrounding the castle are quiet at this hour. I can still remember the hustle and commotion of the staff in the early morning, lining up to get inside to start their days. It was never daunting to be a young girl surrounded by a diverse array of people. It was thrilling and almost comforting and it was much better than staying home alone.

When I reach the gates, I feel like I’ve traveled back in time because blocking my path is a young guard who looks eerily like Doyun, the guard I knew from before.

“How can I help you, miss?”

“Hi.” I’m inspecting his face. He has the same colored hair, but it’s parted differently. He has the same warm light brown eyes and his face is a little softer than Doyun’s. My mind can’t help but ask, “I’m sorry if this is a strange question but do you know Guard Doyun?”

His stiff demeanor drops like a curtain and the young guard’s eyes light up, “I’m his son, Yunseo! How do you know my father?” Suddenly I don’t see a guard in uniform, but instead a bright, inviting individual in his place.

“No wonder! I’m the granddaughter of the head baker. I used to greet your father every morning when I was a child.”

“Oh yes! Yes, she told me you were coming. You can go right along in, just make sure she knows to sneak me an extra sweet treat.” He opens the gates for me.

“Ah like father, like son,” I giggle, slightly bowing to him as I enter.

“Do you remember how to get to the kitchen?”

I stare at the familiar worn cobblestone paths and nod, “I think so.”

The walk to the kitchen is shorter than I remember but the smell wafting from the windows is all the same. I reach the side door and I’m about to knock when I notice it’s creaked slightly open. I hear a voice above all the kitchen noise.

“Gran, please sneak something in my food today so I can get sick and stay in bed for the whole week. I do not want to court these women.” I peek my head in further to take a look at the man speaking. I let out a soft gasp when my eyes land on him.

Outside of his stunning beauty, he looks familiar. His tufts of chestnut brown hair are slightly waved as they curl around the nape of his neck. He often shakes his head to get the bangs out of his face, exposing his tan skin. If I look close enough, he has distinguishable moles on the plush curves of his cheeks. His rosy lips are wrapped around a piece of pastry and even when he’s talking with his mouth full, he’s still attractive. My eyes instantly widen when I notice his outfit: the royal attire.

A squeal escapes my mouth and before I could hide, the door is swung open by my grandma.

“You’re here!”

At the announcement of my arrival, the young man is dusting the crumbs off his hands, and looks like he’s about to make a quick escape.

“Hi Grandma,” I give her a hug, not minding the flour sticking to my sweater. “I was just about to knock.” I let out a small laugh to hide the fact that I was definitely eavesdropping not moments ago.

“Grandma?” I hear the man say behind her. He decided to stay after realizing it wasn’t one of his guards coming to get him, but instead a pretty woman. An oddly, familiar, pretty woman.

My grandma bites her lip to keep from smiling any bigger and she grabs my arm to present me to the man.

“Oh my. I forgot you guys know each other! It’s Donghyuck, do you remember, honey? You used to play with him every day as I worked.” The glint in her eyes is something more than just happy nostalgia and I give her a look.

“Pri-... Princess?” When the old nickname leaves his lips, I gasp and feel my cheeks bloom pink. The layers of the handsome man in front of me started to peel and I could see the little boy I spent my early life with. Most of my warmest days were spent with him. But I’m also brought back to one of the colder days of my childhood. The day I found out my childhood best friend was the Prince.

At first, I didn’t understand why my grandma was so fearful of telling me who he really was. I was ecstatic to hear that Donghyuck was royalty. I was fascinated and curious to see what his life was like and how it compared to being the granddaughter of a palace worker. I soon learned that what I wanted to discover was not so glamorous. Because apparently, his life excluded me. I didn’t piece that together until a few years after my move. Why else did Donghyuck stop showing up and why else was I forbade from going to the palace with my grandma? When I came to the realization, I began to resent him and eventually, completely forgot about him.

“Prince Donghyuck,” I bowed, trying not to show any expression. He had his arm slightly raised like he was about to reach for me but his body stiffened at my curtness. My grandma even looks at me with confusion. “It’s… It’s nice to see you again.”

“Oh, there’s no need to be so polite. You guys were friends!” My grandma squeezes my arms, urging me to get closer. I stay in my place.

“He’s the Prince, Grandma,” I whisper through my teeth and I can tell he hears me by the dejected look on his face. I can’t get myself to look him in the eyes.

“It’s quite alright. I actually have to get going. Prin-... Sorry, It was lovely to see you,” The Prince ducks his head and leaves the way I came in. He looks back at my figure once more, thoughts churning, before he disappears.

My feet remain still and I’m staring at the place he stood. Staring at the pastry he bit into. He’s real and he’s back. And the door he walked through was the same one he used to leave me 15 years ago. The alarms rang in my brain and I quickly shook my head, grabbing a bowl and mixing whatever contents are in it. The faster I stirred, the more I begged my mind to stop thinking about Donghyuck.

“You’re overwhipping the cream.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

On every page he turned to, the words blurred and all Donghyuck could see was her. She was more beautiful than he remembered. She’s much taller now, and he naturally smiles remembering when she used to argue that he was only taller than her by a centimeter. Her hair was also longer and not bound in her classic two braids. Though he didn’t get to see her smile, he was sure that it’s brighter than before. After all, everything about her seemed to have grown more beautiful than before. Donghyuck wonders if he should be calling her “Queen” now with how wonderfully she’s aged.

A delicate tap on his shoulder forces Donghyuck out of his lovestruck haze. “Prince Donghyuck, are you enjoying your book?”

He remembers that he’s in the library with one of his potential suitresses. He turns to her and almost wants to laugh. For the years that his childhood friend has been gone, it was the memory of her that invaded his mind whenever he was forced to go on these dates. But now that Donghyuck has seen her again in the flesh, he realizes how doomed he is and how these other princesses definitely don’t stand a chance.

During the fifteen years apart, Donghyuck’s gloom exacerbated the Queen’s determination to find him a future queen. Out of all his regular royal responsibilities, his courtships took the most time. He excels in all areas of his duties, but the one he can’t manage to succeed in is getting a wife. From playdates to formal dates, Donghyuck aged and remained single. And both he and the head baker knew why.

Despite the Queen’s warnings to never enter the kitchen, Donghyuck found himself there every week whether it was to steal extra mango tarts or ask about the baker’s granddaughter. It was usually after failed dates when he’d trudge into the kitchen, completely drained of energy, and beg the baker to talk to him about his first love. Questions about where she is, how she’s doing, and whether she thinks of him spill from his mouth, and the baker would entertain him every time. Even if he only knew and could only remember the child version of her, Donghyuck still managed to compare her to every suitress he met. None of them stood a chance against his princess. And though with time he could recognize how silly this infatuation had gotten, he grew fatigued of courtship and this was the easiest way to go about it. The grandmother was wary of this long overrun connection as well, but at the same time commended him for his commitment to her granddaughter. She also didn’t have the heart to tell him to move on.

And now Donghyuck’s here, on another date and he actually has an image, a real person, to be thinking of.

“I’m sorry. I don’t think this is going to work out.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“So you are hiding from me?”

“Oh Jesus Christ,” I drop the bowl of frosting at my feet and scramble to pick it up. A pair of far too expensive shoes enter my vision. I shoot up and my heart races, knowing exactly who it is.

“My prince,” I bow, meeting the ground once more. I stand upright and give him a passing smile.

“I like hearing you say that,” The Prince smirks. He swiftly scoops a finger of frosting before popping it in his mouth.

“Formalities,” I respond and I move the bowl out of his reach.

He chuckles and he starts to fiddle with an apron left on the counter.

“So you’ve been visiting at nighttime. Are you actually avoiding me?” He looks at me like he’s challenging me to say no.

Yes. “No, I just prefer the kitchen at night.” I clutch the frosting bowl tighter and focus my attention on what’s salvageable.

“You mean my kitchen… which you’ve been sneaking into with the help of my guard.” I can feel that he’s moved closer and I wince.

“Yes… I’m sorry. My grandma said it’d be okay and my kitchen at the bakery isn’t finished being built. If you’d like me to stop coming, I can.” I start to untie my apron and his hand catches my wrist.

“No,” He blurts out. “There’s no need. Feel free to use the kitchen.” The Prince raises his hands in the air as if to give me permission. I politely nod and go back to fixing my frosting, ignoring the tingling I feel on my wrist.

He doesn’t make a move to leave. Instead, he puts on the apron from the counter and leans in to watch.

“Um, what are you doing?” The Prince is tapping the table and humming as he stares at me.

“Hanging out,” He says matter-of-factly.

“I see,” And that’s all that I can say because who am I to kick the Prince out of his own kitchen? So I just mix and continue doing my thing.

“Just like the old days. You do remember, right?” I make the mistake of looking up and meeting his eyes. He’s looking at me like his question meant more than just a test of my memory.

“Vaguely… It was a long, long time ago.” A time I don’t wish to relive.

There’s a short pause before The Prince replies.

“Well, I remember. I think I’ll always remember. You were my best friend… And those were probably the best days of my life.” He doesn’t look at me when he says this. In fact, he looks nervous to be admitting it in the first place.

All I can do is nod, not knowing what to say to his confession. Especially when the feeling I get when I look back on those times is not as positive.

“Anyway… I’m planning on recreating those times.” Without thinking, I meet his eyes and he’s smiling hopefully. “So don’t try to hide from me next time. I’ll be here whenever you are. Think of it as your payment for using the kitchen.”

The uneasiness and warmth in my stomach are hard to decipher. The thought of spending more time with him is thrilling and terrifying at the same time. I try to ease my nerves by mixing even harder and he notices before laughing.

With my unspoken agreement, we spend the rest of the night in silence, just in each other’s presence. Every now and then he steals a bite of my makings and tries to lighten the air with a poorly made joke. And I don’t hold my laughter back.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“And then, once the frosting is on, you can add the strawberries.” I demonstrate by putting the nicely sliced strawberries on in a thin layer.

“When are you going to teach me how to make the mango tart?” The Prince pouts and bites the strawberries instead of putting them on the cake. I scowl and move the bowl away from him.

“When are you going to stop eating my ingredients?”

He smirks and taps the counter, “When are you going to stop using my kitchen?” He tilts his head to the side to goad me.

I roll my lips into my mouth and stuff another strawberry in his face when he laughs.

“Eat up,” I say sickeningly sweet.

Completely out of my control, my hangouts with Prince Donghyuck have returned. However, this time, I know he’s the prince and instead of every day in the morning, it’s 2 to 3 times a week at night. My excuse is that my kitchen in the bakery isn’t done being built, but to be completely honest, I could have it done by the end of the week. Maybe it’s because I enjoy my time with the Prince or maybe it’s because I actually do want the extra amenities I asked to be installed last minute… who knows? The end conclusion is that I find myself in the palace’s kitchen more often than I intended, and I find myself enjoying the Prince’s company more than I intended.

“Okay, your highness. Do you think you can stack these layers evenly?”

He gives me a playful salute, mouth full of cream, as he hops off the kitchen counter. He stands by my side and takes the cake from my hands.

“You know… as much as I like hearing you call me ‘your highness,’ why don’t you ever call me by my name anymore?”

“Because now I know you’re the Prince.” And I don’t know how it feels to have your name roll off my tongue as it did before, I think to myself.

The Prince lets out a low whistle. “Do you see me differently?” He trains his eyes to the level of the cake to get it precisely right. I watch him from above.

“It’s been fifteen years… so yes, I do see you differently.” I move to mix more frosting to coat the cake with.

“Okay,” He nods, thinking about my response. “So me being the Prince isn’t part of it?” He glances at me quickly with what I can assume is worry before he goes to add another layer of cake.

“Mmm… It is. Not a big part, but definitely a part. I think it’s mainly because you’ve grown up, We’ve both grown up. Maybe me more than you,” I tease. He sticks his tongue out at me and I make a face back. “Example number one.”

He finishes putting on the last layer and stands up straight to admire his work.

“What makes me different than before?” He takes the frosting bowl from my hands and begins icing the cake like I’ve taught him a couple of days ago. I take this as a break and I lift myself up to sit on the counter, dangling my feet.

“You’re taller than me, for one,” he gasps in fake shock and I hit him on the shoulder.

“You’re dressed nicer.”

“That’s not a compliment for me, that’s a compliment for my stylist,” He corrects me.

“True, okay. You’re smarter than before, I can see you’re not skipping your tutoring sessions. And… you’re not as cute.”

At that, he perks up, frosting is long forgotten. “What do you mean I’m not as cute?” And with the face he’s making, I almost take back my words.

“Well, your highness, you were a boy before. Of course, you’re not cute now. You’re a man.” I roll my eyes as if that were the most obvious thing.

“If I’m not cute, then what am I?” He squints at me and I can tell I’ve fallen into a trap.

“You’re… You’re handsome. Now,” I mutter out. I quickly clear my throat and point to a bald spot on the cake. “Hey, you missed a spot.”

Without even looking at him, I know he’s smiling. “You think I’m handsome.”

“Alright,” I drag out the word. “You’re the Prince. Aren’t you supposed to be handsome so you can woo and marry a pretty princess?”

“Not exactly. Being ridiculously handsome isn’t a royal requirement.”

I let out a scoff, “When did I say ‘ridiculously handsome’?”

“You didn’t have to, I see it on your face.” He taps my cheek and I suddenly notice how close our faces have gotten. Before I know it, my face is blooming pink again and I can feel the warmth shoot from my head to the rest of my body. I launch myself back and adjust my apron. And he stares at me like he’s won.

“Okay, your turn. What’s different about me?” I look around the kitchen to get my heart to settle down. What is happening?

The Prince doesn’t hesitate. “Well, you’re just as beautiful as you were before. Maybe even more.”

I gasp at his words and look him in the eyes. There’s no hint of his typical teasing attitude; he looks completely genuine. My mind goes blank and my ability to respond is rendered useless. He seems to notice that so he brushes off his comment quickly, thinking he’s overstepped.

“Anyways, since we’ve discovered that the only thing that makes me different from before is that I’m exceptionally more handsome-”

“Didn’t say that.”

“-Then why don’t you just call me ‘Donghyuck.’ Like you did before.”

Maybe it’s because he called me beautiful. Maybe it’s because I like the idea of exclusively calling him ‘Donghyuck.’ Or maybe I’m excited to eat the cake we just made, but my heart is fluttering quicker than it ever has.

“Okay. Donghyuck.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“FIRE! DONGHYUCK! FIRE, FIRE!”

“OH SHIT!”

Watching the medium sized fire bursting from the top of the pot, I run to the fire extinguisher. I’m scrambling to grab it, swift to squeeze the white dust all over the burning stove, despite the dough covering my hands. I hear Donghyuck’s screams in the back and he’s grabbing my shoulders to hide. Once I see the last flame get coated, I drop the extinguisher on the ground, exhausted.

I feel his hands digging into my shoulder blades and I grab him by the jacket, turning him to face me. Knowing how to cover his ass, he smiles in shame, rubbing my arm.

“I swear I was watching the stove,” He whips out his baby voice and try my best not to smack the side of his head. He’s the Prince. He’s the Prince. He’s the Prince, I repeat to myself.

“Your looks distracted me.” I slap him anyways.

He groans in pain, even though I could’ve slapped harder and I cross my arms to look as threatening as possible.

“You burnt the caramel,” I whine, staring at the black tar in my brand new pot. “And my pot!”

He immediately attacks me with a hug, shaking me around, mumbling apologies. “I’ll buy you a new one, I promise! I’ll buy you three! Four? Seven!”

“Make it eight,” I huff, tearing his arms off me, only to weirdly miss them.

He gasps, hands against his head in shock. “You definitely dressed prettier today just so I could set your pot on fire and buy you twenty more… You’re evil,” He looks at me like I’ve masterminded the biggest robbery of the century.

I narrow my eyes at him, lifting my hand to smack him again. “And you’re on timeout. No more baking today.” I start putting away the dishes I had ready.

“Hey! Who’s older here?” Donghyuck begins helping me sort the supplies into the pantry.

“I’m pretty sure I am,” I say, trying to remember if we told each other our birthdays back then.

“When were you born?”

“May.”

“Shit,” He mutters. He tosses the burnt pot into the trashcan, wincing at the char. “Okay, let’s keep the ball rolling. What’s your favorite color?”

I laugh, “Really? Also should I save this dough for tomorrow when we try again?” I hold it up to show him and inspects it.

“Yeah, why not? Just wear a trashbag or something tomorrow.” I kick him in the foot and he chuckles. “But yes, really. What’s your favorite color? I like red.”

“Purple,” I play along while saran wrapping the dough. “Favorite food?”

“Kimchi jjigae,” he spits out, with no hesitation. I nod along, remembering all the times he’s requested it as a midnight snack while we bake. “What do you like to do besides baking?”

“I like to go on walks. When I moved out of the city and with my dad, we lived near the beach. It was nice to just walk on the shore only five minutes away from me. I miss it sometimes. I should probably visit soon.” I tap the bowl mindlessly, trying to figure out my schedule.

“You should take me,” Donghyuck says. He’s right next to me now. “I always wondered where you went after I stopped seeing you. I assumed you were still in the city, until your grandma told me you moved-moved.”

“Ohh, no, yeah. I moved. It was hard leaving everything I knew, but at the same time, I learned so much when I was there with my dad. Come with me next time, and we can hangout on the beach. Nothing should be too flammable there.” I tease, bumping his hip with mine. He laughs with me, but I can tell his mind is somewhere else. His eyebrows are furrowed, and he looks almost guilty.

“You know, when I found out you were the Prince, I wrote down a list of questions. I was so excited to see what your life is like.”

This grabbed his attention and my heart eased seeing his eyes light up a little more. The kitchen was relatively clean now, so I decided to prop myself up on the counter. Donghyuck always gets mad at the sudden height difference, but I can tell he loves it when he naturally wedges himself between my thighs like he does right now.

“Yeah? Do you remember any?” His hands were pinned on either side of my hips, forearms pressed against my outer thighs. It’s comfortable. I’m not sure when we got so comfortable. “This is kind of like ‘Princess and The Pauper.’”

I snort trying to remember my list. “I think I wanted to know how many crowns you had.”

“Classic question. I’m pretty sure I have three. My head’s kinda small, so it actually takes awhile for them to make it.”

I hum, investigating his head. “I can tell.”

“Mean.” He lightly pinches my thigh and I stop staring at his skull.

“I also wanted to know if you had any royal pets.”

“A cute, small, white dog. Yep.” He nods, like he’s impressed with himself for having such a basic dog and I have to laugh.

“Any cool cars?”

“Tons,” He brags. “Okay, what does ‘Adult You’ want to know?”

There’s always been a question I wanted to ask him since I started hanging out with him again. It nagged in the back of my mind as I watched him, always happy, always cheering everyone on. Despite his bright facial expressions and body language, I could tell it was tiring, it must be. I never imagined the royal life to be hard, or as hard as my own, until I met him again.

I look at his face, checking for any signs that I shouldn’t be asking him. But he looks at me with such softness and openness, that I don’t hesitate to ask.

“Are you happy? Like… do you like being the Prince?”

His eyes widened at my question and he looks down at my lap to think. He takes longer than I expect, and I assume no one has ever bothered to ask. His silence is telling.

“Hey…,” I reach for his face to lift his chin up. “It’s okay to say you’re not. You don’t have to be all the time.”

He flinches like this was a concept he couldn’t accept for himself. I grab his face a little tighter so he really hears me.

“As long as you’re at least looking for your happiness, that’s all that matters,” I stroke his cheek with my thumb. “You deserve all the happiness, Hyuck.”

I can see his mind slowly wrapping around my words as something in his face shifts. He looks hesitant for a different reason.

“And what if I find my happiness in you?” I gasp, instinctively letting go of his face slightly. He’s fast to bring his hand up to keep mine there. His fingers slot between my gaps. He looks desperate to keep me here.

Knowing my words hold immense weight, I still don’t stop myself from saying, “Then I’ll be that for you, in whatever way I can.”

Despite me being vague, Donghyuck takes all that he can. His face blooms into a smile and I return it, knowing it was cause of me. He holds my hand this time and brings it down to my lap, sighing happily.

“Thank you.”

And for a split second, I’m scared for what I’ve promised. After all, he’s the prince and I’m the pauper.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

Donghyuck is the happiest he has ever been. Unlike how it was when he was a kid, he’s attending his classes, his meetings, and even having lunches with the princesses the Queen sends over. However, he can’t promise that these dates are leading up to a potential marriage. He’s doing just enough so that his mother doesn’t get suspicious. Best of all, for most nights, he gets to sneak into the kitchen and talk, bake, and laugh for hours.

The secret hangouts are going amazingly. He can tell she’s warming up to him as she did back then or maybe it’s just the fire from the oven heating up the place. Last week, the kitchen at her new bakery finally finished being built and he knows this because he hired his staff to make sure the job was done well without telling her. That day he expected her to come in and tell him that she had to stop seeing him, but she still showed up like clockwork – two to three times a week.

Next week, her bakery is set to have its grand opening and Donghyuck hopes this isn’t what actually stops her from coming to see him. He’s even practiced his baking skills on his own and eaten less of the fruit while they’re together in hopes it doesn’t make her want to leave again. And so for the following week, Donghyuck is treading carefully.

“Do you need help with that, Princess?”

“Should I preheat the oven for you?”

“Here, let me tie your apron.”

“I’ll carry that for you.”

All of these mini acts of chivalry are met with a suspicious gaze and a light dusting of red on her cheeks. Donghyuck feels a sense of achievement whenever she accepts his help. And this all leads up to the night before her grand opening.

Donghyuck is lighting the last candle when the sound of keys unlocking the side kitchen door is heard. He quickly blows out the match before scurrying behind the table to greet her with a “Surprise!”

“Donghyuck! Don’t do that! God, I thought I was caught for sneaking in.”

He rolls his eyes at her lackluster reaction and reorients himself.

“I said… Surprise!” He dramatically waves his arms around to show all the work he put into decorating the kitchen. She finally notices her surroundings and her eyes light up. Donghyuck can feel his heart soften, compared to how it was racing earlier trying to set all of this up without his staff.

“What… what is all of this?” Her hands are covering her mouth in disbelief. There are streamers and fairy lights gracing the walls and candles are littered all around the room. Donghyuck is standing in the center with a single cupcake in his hands.

“Congrats. I heard from the grapevine that your bakery opens tomorrow.” She laughs at his theatrics and sets her bag down to look at the cupcake he’s made. In messy red font, the top of the treat reads the name of her bakery. She almost wants to tear up.

“Only one? Are we sharing?” She takes the cupcake from his hands and he tries not to think too hard about her fingers touching his.

“Well, I made that myself, and I personally don’t trust that I didn’t mess up the recipe in some way. So if anyone’s getting food poisoning tonight, it’d be you.” He taps her nose. “Eat up!”

At that, her jaw drops and she keeps the cupcake at a distance as if it’s some nuclear substance.

“Do you secretly want me dead?” She laughs.

“Hey, when it comes down to a royal and a baker. The baker’s going.” Donghyuck mimics his throat being slit and bites his lip to stop himself from smiling too hard. He loves to mess with her.

“You are the worst. Way to look out for your people, your highness.” She begins to unwrap the cupcake, taking a sniff out of precaution.

“‘Your Highness’? Aw, Princess, don’t be like that.” He moves closer to her and she shifts back, tutting.

“Nope. As a baker under your kingdom, I will gladly sacrifice myself by eating this cupcake. Alone.” She dramatically curtsies before going in for a hesitant bite.

Donghyuck swiftly beats her to it and takes a large bite out of the other end as her lips touch the cupcake. Her eyes widen in shock and he sends her a wink before brushing the crumbs off his mouth.

“Now you can’t tell me I don’t care about my people,” He says while chewing the weird texture of his creation. Donghyuck smirks at the deer-in-headlights reaction she has on her face.

She gulps, shaking her head so that her hair hides her blush. She sets the cupcake down, not wanting a reminder of how close his face just was.

“Well, it’s edible,” She jokes. Donghyuck’s tongue prods the inside of his mouth as he takes in what was supposedly a compliment.

“Says the one who took the smallest bite known to man,” He accuses, pointing at the cupcake.

“How was I supposed to take a bigger one when you practically shoved your face into it and devoured half?” Once again, she’s reminded of what just transpired and feels her cheeks growing warm.

“Ooo, did I make you flustered? Scared your lips were about to touch mine?” Donghyuck takes a step closer and brushes a nonexistent crumb off her lip with his thumb. He hopes she doesn’t feel his heart pounding like fireworks.

Like she can sense his fake confidence, she grabs his wrist. “Is that what you were thinking about when you took a bite? Kissing me?” She tilts her head to the side and his whole body buzzes.

Before he could crumble even further, he tears his hand out of hers. “Please. Like I’d let anyone touch these royal lips.” He turns around to calm himself down and pretends to busy himself with something on the fridge.

He hears her laugh behind him. “I bet they’re not as sweet as a baker’s.”

He turns around and narrows his eyes at her. “How did this grand opening celebration turn into you messing with me?” Accepting defeat, he resorts to fake anger and his signature pout.

“You started it,” She playfully rolled her eyes. “Anyways…”

With the softest smile, she says, “Thank you, Hyuck. I really appreciate you.”

He returns it, “Always.”

The rest of the night is filled with laughter and playful bickering as the two avoid finishing the mysteriously textured cupcake. Donghyuck makes multiple attempts to pit the blame on her as the teacher, and the soon-to-be bakery owner fails to leave and sleep early at the expense of the Prince’s whines. To be honest, the lack of sleep was worth it if she got to spend more time with him.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Now that the bakery is well past its grand opening and flourishing greatly, I’ve gotten my days back. My employees are well-trained and seasoned and I feel comfortable taking days off when I need to. Oddly, my new opened-up schedule was somehow sensed by Donghyuck and I was invited to the palace during the daytime for the first time ever. I was nervous at first to be sneaking in in broad daylight, but he assured me that if I followed the steps he gave me exactly, I’d be fine – not that reassuring.

As written in his note, I greeted Yunseo, the guard, as usual, and he gave me weird looks, going back and forth between the sun and my face.

“You know the sun is out, right?” He asked, still looking at me funny.

I gave him the most incredulous look. “You’re joking? It’s not nighttime?” I made an effort to crazily look around and he sighed.

“Alright, alright, I get it,” He shook his head. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d switch things up,” I shrugged, not wanting to reveal who I was meeting.

Yunseo nodded, “Fair… okay, be careful, okay? The palace feels a little frantic today.” With that, he opened the gates for me and I gave him a smile.

“You’re the best. Make sure to stop by sometime this week, I have pastries for you.” I waved goodbye as he promised to come.

Following Donghyuck’s poorly drawn-out map, I realized our meeting point isn’t the kitchen and that he’s taking me on an obscure path that the Queen and King definitely are not aware exists. As I walk through centuries-old, dimly lit stone walls, I think about how many times Donghyuck has used these secret passageways and if little Donghyuck used these when he snuck out to see me, 15 years ago. I can imagine 7-year-old Donghyuck discovering these routes within the castle’s walls.

“Stop right there!” A voice echoes through the abandoned hallway.

My heart spazzes and as loud as my brain is yelling at me to run, my feet don’t budge. I curse under my breath and crumple Donghyuck’s map in my hands, remembering to kill him unless I die right here. And if I do happen to die here, then I have to make sure I return as a ghost, haunting that man for life. I turn around slowly, eyes half closed, to see who’s behind me, but there’s no one there. There’s no one in the passageway at all. I whip around a few more times to confirm and I notice a crack in the wall to my right. It’s a peephole overlooking the actual palace hallways.

Out of curiosity, I look through and I see the Queen, face as red as the beautiful gown she adorns.

“Prince Lee Donghyuck,” his name is spat out like bile. “You will follow my orders.”

Coming into view, I see Donghyuck. He and the Queen are in the middle of a heated argument. His head is hung low and I can see him playing with his sleeves like he does when he gets anxious. I wish to reach for him, but then I remember the wall separating us.

“Your majesty, I… I can’t. I don’t want to,” He hiccups, and if I can’t see the tears on his face, I can hear them. “I never did.”

The space in my chest feels as tight and narrow as the walkway I’m in and I want to look away, but I can’t.

“It doesn’t matter what you want. You are the Prince and you are expected to marry a Princess. How dare you fool me for all these years?” As the Queen, she still carries her natural elegance, but her words burn like acid. She’s speaking to him at a normal volume, but her tone pierces your ears.

“I-I didn’t mean to fool you. I tried my best, but I don’t love them. I don’t love the suitresses you send. And I need you to understand that I never will.” Donghyuck finally looks up and I can see the desperation in his eyes from where I stand.

“Love?,” The Queen laughs bitterly. “I don’t need you to love them. You just need to marry one. As the Prince, what makes you think you have the privilege of being in love? Not when you have a country to rule.” There’s less anger in her words and more disappointment.

Donghyuck winces, looking like he’s fighting back what he wants to say. His bottom lip is trembling and the grip he has on his sleeves is tight. His whole body practically shakes. Eventually, he lets go.

“If I’m not meant to love someone, then explain to me why I already do. Explain to me why I love her? Explain to me why I can’t have her?!”

Tears are rolling down his cheeks like heavy rainfall. “I never asked for this!” He screams, and I wonder to which he’s referring to.

My body is sweaty like I ran a mile and I feel like my breathing can be heard through the wall. He never mentions my name, but I know, I can feel, that he’s talking about me. My whole body is buzzing and I don’t know whether to feel ecstatic or sad. Despite my confusion, one feeling is clear: fear. Before I can hear what the Queen has to say, I run.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

“Oh God. Sorry, I was supposed to get here before you. I was supposed to be part of the surprise,” He smiles meekly, praying the puffiness from crying doesn’t make him look strange. He accidentally sniffles and hopes she blames it on the flowers and his chronic allergies.

She’s sitting in the garden chair next to the tea table Donghyuck had set up an hour ago. He scoped out a secluded spot in the royal garden and slowly put everything together. He moves to sit down across from her and she’s staring intently at the cup in front of her.

“I asked Gran what your favorite tea is and brewed some for us. I know I don’t have your baking skills, but if we get hungry, we can sneak back to the kitchen,” he playfully winks, trying to hide the fact that he was in the worst state five minutes ago. Although he can’t bake, he can definitely make a good batch of tea. He hopes it hasn’t gone cold.

He waits for a response, but she’s still frozen, chewing the inside of her cheek. Maybe he’s still on edge from his argument with the Queen, but she doesn’t look happy. This is definitely not the reaction he was expecting.

“Do you wanna try the tea? I bet it’ll amaze you so much, you’ll beg me for the recipe,” he teases. The teapot hovers over her cup, but she makes no move to accept it.

“Okay, no tea. That’s fine,�� Donghyuck chooses to laugh it off. “Do you wanna walk around? Most of the garden is secluded so we don’t have to worry about someone catching us.”

“Would that be so bad?” The first words she whispers strike him with confusion. Her voice is dry like she just strained it.

“Huh?” He tilts his head, scooting his chair in closer to hear her.

“Would that be so bad?” She says, unable to bate her anger. “Being caught with me? Would his royal highness hate being found walking with me?”

“Hey,” Donghyuck grabs her hand from her lap, interlocking his fingers. “What’s going on?” She tears her hand out from his hold like it stung and he feels like he’s making mistake after mistake.

“I-I’m sorry, is this too much? I wanted to do something nice for our first date outside of the kitchen. Was this a mistake?” He starts to stack the plates, quickly discarding his work. “I usually don’t plan these myself, so I’m sorry if this is bad. I-”

Donghyuck sees her wince in his peripheral and feels her hand on his wrist as he’s about to haphazardly dump the tea in the bushes. Her hands are cold today.

“Date?” The word leaves her mouth as if it made her sick.

The alarms go off in Donghyuck’s mind. “Date? Did I say date? Sorry, I actually mean-”

“Donghyuck,” she cuts him off. He can see her harshly swallow. “Why are you doing this?”

He blinks. “I… I wanted to do something nice for us. It doesn’t have to be romantic if you don’t want it to be. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Donghyuck can feel himself beginning to ramble.

“No. Why have you been hanging out with me? If it’s because you feel guilty about ditching me all those years ago, forget about it. I don’t care anymore.” She looks at him with so much intensity, not only trying to convince him, but convince herself that none of this matters.

“Princess, please. No, it’s not out of pity. You know that.” He shakes his head almost violently, begging her to believe his honest intentions. He was shocked he had to convince her in the first place, always assuming she knew his heart better than him.

Completely ignoring him, she continues, “And why aren’t you married yet?”

“W-what?” Similar to whiplash, Donghyuck feels like his brain has just been jostled. Are his ears tricking him and forcing him to relive the traumatic conversation he just had with his mother? Why is this topic being brought up?

“You’re the Prince,” she says like it’s an unwavering fact. “You’re meeting with princesses weekly. You’re meant to rule side by side as King and Queen. Why… why aren’t you married yet?” She asks and her eyes are ice cold like her hands.

She too closely resembles the older woman who was just yelling at him moments ago. The casing around his heart begins to harden and the feeling he gets from the girl in front of him is now anger. The same bitter taste returns in his mouth.

“Are you serious?” He looks at her and the Donghyuck she knows has washed away. Betrayal, rage, and sorrow are painted across his face. It was like she was looking through the peephole again.

“Don’t ask stupid questions you know the answers to,” he mutters, words barely making it past his tight lips. He’s breathing much harder than before.

“Answer me. Why. Aren’t. You. Married.” Her hands are gripping the edge of her knees to stop them from shaking.

Donghyuck stares at her for a long time, eyes flittering over every facial feature, confirming that she actually wants to hear the answer. Her face is firm and her question is set. He takes a deep, pained breath and leans back slightly.

“It’s because I love you.” Not like the confession he imagined in his head, Donghyuck reveals his long-term feelings like this was their end and not their new beginning. The period at the end of a sentence. The last page of a hardcover book. The last second on a timer.

She simply nods, stiff in the neck. She excuses herself before standing up, bowing, and walking away.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“That’ll be $6.06. Would you like your receipt?”

The cash register dings with another purchase and I slump back in my chair as the customer leaves. It was a slow and agonizing shift with only two more hours till closing. It’s also been a slow and agonizing two weeks.

I’m haunted by what went down at the royal garden almost every hour of the day. At first, I was using every chance I could get to skip work and wallow at home. But suddenly the plants in my room reminded me of him and the teacups in my cabinets smelled like the tea he prepared for us. So for the second week, I decided to dedicate myself to work. I’ve been coming in every single day and overworking myself to the point where my employees don’t know what to do but stand around. I debate whether or not to let them leave early when a familiar head of brown hair walks in. My heart picks up its pace and it’s like the teacups all over again.

“Donghyu- oh. Hi, welcome!” I smile wide, trying to hide the previous disappointment drawn on my face. The customer gives me an awkward smile back and begins browsing the pastry racks as I mentally slap myself.

I slump down to the floor behind the counter and silently groan in my hands. Why does every male brunette customer these past two weeks remind me of him? And why are there so many of them? Like every other time I’ve confused a customer with Donghyuck, the guilt begins to creep back into my system and I get flashbacks of our last conversation.

“Why aren’t you married?,” I mock my own voice. “Are you stupid?” I repeatedly hit my palms against my head when I hear a ding from the counter bell. I quickly shoot up and brush the bangs out of my face, hoping the customer thinks I’m at least slightly normal.

“Hi, how can I hel- Grandma!” On instinct, I glance behind her, foolishly hoping he’s hiding behind her tiny frame, and my shoulders slump when I’m met with no one. So now I’m really imagining him.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, composing myself.

“Just checking in on you. I notice you haven’t been coming to the kitchen because when I come in in the mornings, my counter is actually clean,” she jokes. I smile sheepishly and nervously adjust the apron string around my neck.

“Sorry, it’s usually Donghyuck’s fault,” I quickly clear my throat, answering a little too fast. “The Prince, I mean.”

Grandma’s eyebrows shoot up at the mention of his name and she looks down at her feet, suddenly fidgety. I notice her change in demeanor instantly.

“Speaking of him…”

“We don’t need to,” I cut her off. “Speak about him, I mean.” I wince at how suspicious my words sound.

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay. I’m just curious… if anything happened between you two.” She whispers the last part, looking back at the customer to make sure he can’t hear. She clears her throat and steps behind the counter with me, naturally rearranging the bread in the display case. She busies herself while encouraging me to speak.

I gnaw on my lip, tapping the counter, debating if I should finally talk it out with someone. I’ve only been talking to my employees about bread starters and yeast.

“We fought.” I admit.

“About?” Grandma loads the case with more bread. I start passing them to her one by one.

“He told me… he told me he loved me.” I press my lips together and I hear her head hit the top of the display case and the bread hit the floor. “Grandma! Are you okay?”

I crouch down, grabbing the top of her head to inspect, and she’s giving me the most incredulous look.

“He told you he loved you?!” She squealed at an embarrassingly non-discrete volume, making the customer drop the pastry in his hands. He’s looking around, frazzled, and I can see him debate whether or not he should pick it back up.

“Don’t worry about it! I’ll clean it up!” I screamed from behind the counter.

“Grandma, keep it down,” I curse through my teeth.

She’s rubbing her head and shaking it in either pain or confusion.

“I know, I know. A Prince saying he’s in love with the baker’s granddaughter is farfetched and unrealistic. I get it.” It’s what has been circling through my brain every day.

“That’s not what I’m confused about, dear.” She looks like she’s debating what to say next. “Did you not hear?”

“Hear what?” At the end of my question, and like a universal sign, the door jingles and the mailman is rushing in, hair swept back by the wind.

“Sorry! I forgot to drop this off this morning. It’s urgent mail.” He salutes and is out the door as quickly as he enters.

On the counter is a letter with the royal stamp. My stomach feels queasy assuming this is the first contact I’ve had from Donghyuck since our fight, but I can’t help the naive smile that breaks out on my face. I rush to open it, not worrying about the papercuts. Every doubt that was just in my head disappeared and my grandma interjects, hoping to bring me back down from my high.

“Sweetie, wait. I need to tell you that-”

To the owner of Princess Bakery,

Prince Lee Donghyuck will be celebrating his union with Princess Nam Soohae on 26 May, 2023 at the royal garden grounds. The royal family requests a wedding cake to be made with your expertise and culinary skills.

Please accept this royal assignment with details soon to come.

Signed,

The Lees

The words on the page silenced me and my thoughts, my breaths barely leaving my lips. My eyes kept darting across the paper; the calligraphed words are being repeated over and over again in my brain.

Prince Lee Donghyuck.

His union.

Wedding cake.

Realization finally dawns that this isn’t the love letter or apology I was expecting from Prince Donghyuck. A breath finally escapes and it’s shaky as it wavers in the air like an offkey music note. A heart-stopping pain envelopes my chest and it seizes up to my eyes. The whites of the paper burn my irises. I catch a teardrop splattering onto the parchment. I’m haunted with images of Donghyuck at the altar with someone else. And then I’m thinking about the garden. And us.

Surprise.

Our first date.

Because I love you.

Because he loves me? Because Prince Lee Donghyuck loves me? Prince Lee Donghyuck who is getting married to an actual princess in a week? Suddenly, it feels like the floor’s unsteady and the oven temperature was turned up to the highest. The letter wrinkles between my fingers and the ink smudges with salty tears.

This is what I was afraid of. And yet this is what I set myself up for. I knew I should have stopped seeing him. I knew it the moment mango tarts began to remind me of him. The moment my secret ingredient of love found in every bake was powered by him and his place in my heart. Even though I meant to stop this from happening during our talk in the royal garden, that small teaspoon of hope was still sprinkled in my mind. That hope stayed every time I saw a plant, a teacup, or a brunette. But now it’s dissolved.

A new feeling washes over me. One that I haven’t felt once these past two weeks. Not false hope. Not heartbreak. And not regret.

Anger.

“Don’t blame him.”

My grandma’s words slice through the red and her hands on my arms attempt to calm me down. I look up through wet lashes, lips trembling.

“Donghyuck… Prince Donghyuck had no say. The royals… they never do.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be my grandma?” I clench my jaw to stop the shaking, slightly regretting my bitter words.

Her grip is softer. “Oh honey, I am. And that’s why I’m telling you not to waste this energy on being mad at him. What you guys share is beautiful, don’t let this taint it.” She takes the letter out of my hands and physically turns me to face her.

“Shared,” I corrected her.

“Share,” She corrects me. “Your love for each other is seen by everyone. I know it can’t flourish the way love is supposed to, but at least cherish it for what it was.”

Her words reintroduce more feelings. Sorrow. Frustration.

“I was really hoping this time it works out…” She voices my thoughts.

At this point, I’m hiccupping between breaths, caught between reliving the past and hearing these explanations. The world was never meant to have us together it seems. But at least I was told this time we had an ending.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The next royal letter came two days after the first, and I was called to spend a week in the royal palace to test out different wedding cakes. I essentially had no choice but to say yes as the royal chauffeurs picked me up every morning to take me there. It felt like those sunrises with my grandma when I was seven but the butterflies in my stomach turned into bees. Unlike the past, I prayed I wouldn’t run into Prince Donghyuck, but with him having requested I make his cake, I’m sure he knows I’m here.

My grandma designated a portion of the kitchen to me as the head baker and it mimicked the old days as much as it could. That was until I got a visitor on the second day.

“Good morning! I’m Princess Nam Soohae.”

My eyes widened and my whisk fell out of my grasp as I took in her presence. She’s beautiful. She’s an actual princess. Her bright, toothy smile would’ve made anyone smitten if it weren’t for the fact that she was about to marry the man I loved. The pretty pink dress she wore was tinted green through my eyes. I shook my head, trying to remind myself of my place.

“Good morning,” I bowed. “I’m the baker in charge of your wedding cake.” My smile faltered only slightly with the mention of the union.

She giggles and I almost want to laugh with her. “I know that, silly. I was sent by the Queen to sample some. Or should I say my future mother-in-law.” She bites her perfectly manicured nail with excitement.

Soohae leans her hands on the counter and peers at the bowl in my hand.

“Is there any to try right now?” Her head surveys the kitchen like a kid looking for cookies. It’s genuinely hard to dislike her.

“Um, I have a few cakes placed to the side to cool right now. There’s no frosting on it yet, but I’m sure it’d be good to try the base first!” I move to grab one of the trays and she flutters to follow me.

“Ooooh!” She gushes. “I’m so excited to try it. My own wedding cake, can you believe it?”

“No.” I almost drop the cake. “I mean, yes? Sorry. Getting married to the one you love is… it’s a crazy thing.” I cut a piece of cake and place it on a plate for her.

She doesn’t hesitate to take a bite and as she chews, she thinks.

“I don’t love him yet, to be honest. This cake is really good, by the way.” I start cutting a slice from the other cake to sample. “But I know I will love him eventually. I already get butterflies when I look at him. I trust that he’s the one for me, I mean have you seen him?”

Before I can agree, and thank god she doesn’t give me a second to, she continues, “I know it’s silly for a person in my position to believe in the one. But I really, really do think it could be him. The other day he brought me my favorite flowers, like how did he know?!” She pops a bite of the other cake in and her eyes light up.

“Oh this is the one! Don’t even think about giving me another,” The Princess reaches for another bite and applauds me.

I laugh and make sure to note to go with the lemon base and not the mango one. As my hands are about to toss the mango cake away, my mind stops me and I consider whether Donghyuck would prefer this instead. The clanking of the Princess’s fork on the plate, finishing the lemon cake slice till it’s crumbs, reels me back and I let the cake fall into the garbage. It feels eerily like a metaphor.

For the rest of the week, Princess Soohae visits me and taste tests the frosting, fondant, and other things she wants. With every passing day, I hear more about Haechan and I can feel that her words have turned fonder. Coincidentally, her sweet tooth has gotten worse and the final components of the wedding cake are a complete sugar bomb like her personality.

On my final day, the Queen joins her. The last time I saw her majesty, she was berating the Prince as I secretly watched. It felt like I was in that hidden passageway again as she watches me prepare a slice of the wedding cake for her. My hands shake, placing the plate down in front of her and her gaze is sharp. It’s interesting how harsh her energy is when her facial features are as soft as the Prince’s. She looks like she’s been through a lot and I wonder if Donghyuck will experience the same thing when he fulfills his role as King. Like she can tell I’m thinking about him, The Queen’s eyes narrow.

“I hope you enjoy,” I bow, and she doesn’t say a word. Princess Soohae on the other hand is completely bubbling over how good it turned out and how her guests are sure to love it too.

The Queen simply nibbles on a piece and nods along. The black and white vibes almost give me whiplash as I stand there, watching the two of them. A sweat forms on my hairline and I’m internally glad this is my last day. I can’t go through this any longer.

And like a karmic jinx, the kitchen door opens and a familiar brunette walks in. This time, it is him.

“Oh my! Prince Donghyuck!” Princess Soohae scrambles off her chair and bows both gracefully and clumsily. I bow as well, trying hard to hide the immediate blush on my face I get whenever I see him. I wonder if I can stay bowing so I don’t have to meet his face. The last time we saw each other was when we talked at the royal garden, and as much as I prayed I wouldn’t run into him here, truthfully, a part of me also hoped I would.

As soon as I force myself to stand up straight, we lock eyes and the strain in my chest loosens like a snapped thread. I can feel my lungs fill with air and it’s relieving to see him again after so long. It hurts in the best way as I’m overwhelmed by his presence. That familiar brown waved hair, the sunkissed tan skin, and the plump smiley cheeks. Everything is how I left it but his expression is not one I expected. He’s in complete shock and I don’t know what to do but look around the room to find something that would cause such surprise. I quickly glance at the Queen, and for the first time since she sat down, there’s a small lift in the corner of her mouth. Is she smirking?

“Princess?” He tilts his head, still staring at me before he realizes what he just called me. “Princess! Princess Soohae! I came to get you.” He runs over to grab her hand and the lifted cheekbones on her face tells me she’s grinning.

“What- uh- what’s going on?” I’m fixated on the way he fiddles with her hand as he looks around the room for answers.

“Cake testing? How did you forget, silly?” Princess Soohae laughs as she playfully pats his cheeks. Everyone in the room can tell she’s head over heels and my stomach hurts. As I’m clutching my stomach and the Prince stares at me quizzically, there’s one person in the room watching all of this go down.

“She’s the wedding cake baker we outsourced, Prince Donghyuck.” The Queen says calmly, gesturing to me. She tells him like it’s his first time hearing this and I’m taken aback, my movements making the utensils on the table quiver slightly.

“He didn’t know?” My mouth was too quick to voice my thoughts. “His highness, I mean.” I bow in apology.

“No. No, I didn’t.” His hands are at his side now, gripping the fabric of his sleeves. The shock left his face and now he’s staring at me with pity and then silent anger when his head turns towards the Queen. My eyes follow his and she returns his look as if to challenge him to say more.

Completely obvious to the shift in atmosphere, Princess Soohae raves about the final wedding cake decisions and begs the Prince to try a bite. He turns her down without sparing a glance and asks her to leave with him. He doesn’t give me a second thought as he breaks eye contact with the Queen and drags his future wife away. There’s no stopping the ache that fills my chest again, slow but strong like the rising tide.

“So he still likes you.”

Snapped out of my haze, my ears don’t believe the words I hear coming from the Queen’s lips.

“Pardon?” She’s looking at me now and it’s a mixture of disappointment and disinterest etched on her face. The warmth on her face has depleted.

“My son. Prince Donghyuck. He still likes you,” she laughs dryly. “After all these years…”

My eyebrows furrow and I feel myself getting dizzy. Maybe this is all some sort of hallucination and the Queen isn’t talking to me right now. I grip the counter for support, and she doesn’t wait for me to respond.

“You know, I thought I handled the issue 15 years ago when I asked the head baker to stop bringing you here. I was stupid to think it would be that easy when he purposely sabotaged every date I set up for him the years after.”

She’s twirling the fork on the plate now and the scrapes make me flinch. The kitchen no longer feels like a safe space for me right now as her words slowly suffocate me.

“And when he started to actually go on these dates this year and report back to me that they’re going well? I was foolish to think it was him beginning to try. I saw you one day, back in this kitchen. Back in his life. It all made sense and it made me so angry.” Her hands grip the fork handle. They’re dainty, but if you look close, they’re calloused, indicating years of work. Her face appears the same. If it weren’t for the terrifying state I was in, I would’ve wanted to comfort her. She looks up at me, and I felt tinier than I did before, her eyes piercing into me.

“Do you not understand the life I’m trying to set up for Donghyuck? He’s the future king. He needs a queen, a real queen to survive in this world. As the queen, I know firsthand what he needs. My king wouldn’t be anywhere without me and his mother who set me up with him. You’re not fit for this role and you never will be.” She finally sets the fork down with a clatter.

“Listen to me, and let him go. It’s what’s best.” Her threatening nature fades as quickly as it came and she gracefully stands up, brushing the nonexistent debris on her gown. The Queen gives me one final look, waiting for me to bow and essentially agree, before leaving the kitchen.

The air returns and I grasp my chest to let myself breathe. Tears prick the corner of my eyes as I choke back sobs.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Remember, it’s the room on the right hallway. Third door. And if anyone sees you, don’t tell them I sent you. I’ll get in trouble.” My grandma hammers in the details one more time, waiting for me to nod in confirmation.

It’s the end of my final day and she asked me to deliver pastries to a room in the palace before I leave, saying her workload is too large to be going herself. I figured it’s one more thing I could do before I never step foot in the palace again. I almost turned her down earlier in fear of running into the Queen. Just the thought of that happening makes me feel sick, but I know I won’t be seeing her again after this anyways.

I scoff, “So you’d rather I get sent to the guillotine?” I tease her with an exaggerated horrified look.

She easily flicks my forehead, despite our height difference, and I grab it wincing. “You’re lucky I don’t chop off your head myself with that attitude of yours.” She sneers at me and I giggle.

“Fair…,” I playfully mutter, soothing the area between my brows.

Her directions sent me to a room with beautiful brown double doors. I smile at the two ladies standing outside of it and I’m about to explain why I’m here before they cut me off.

“Pastry delivery for the Prince?” They say in unison.

Like a horror movie, my jaw drops and I lose my instinct to run. One thing I do know is to make sure I yell at my grandma later as I nod and tell them they’re correct. She completely set me up.

On another occasion, I would’ve appreciated the doors to Prince Donghyuck’s bedroom more, but right now, they look like the gates of Hell. I attempt to swallow whatever saliva was left in my suddenly dry mouth as I brushed my hair out of my face. The ladies allow me to knock on the door. My palms are sweaty as I shakily knock on the varnished wood, hearing it echo into the space on the other side. His room must be huge.

No responses are heard. This was my out, but my body was telling me not to leave, even though my mind was screaming to run. Instead of knocking again, I turn the knob and almost wish it wasn’t unlocked, but it was.

There he is on the other side, scribbling at his desk. His back is facing me and I watch the muscles in them move with vigor. I haven’t seen him work this hard since he convinced me to teach him how to make a creme brulée and accidentally made scrambled eggs with the yolks.

I shut the door behind me and hope it catches his attention, but it doesn’t. I gulp, realizing how very real this situation is and I almost want to throw up knowing I have to speak.

“Hyuck.”

I hear him inhale and he spins quickly out of his chair to look at me. Different to how it felt seeing him in the kitchen earlier today, his face is softer, accepting my presence. My heart floats in my chest, wondering why I was so nervous to see him when just the sight of him oozes comfort. He looks at me like he’s feeling the same way. I see the longing in his eyes and the way they warm, I close my own to stop myself from giving in too much.

“Princess.”

His voice is fragile and his choice of words makes me shut my eyes harder, scared that I’d lose all my resilience and run straight into his arms. He doesn’t correct himself this time, and he says it again with more confidence.

I finally peel them open and force myself to act cold. Just an hour ago I was finishing his wedding cake; this fire has to be extinguished.

“Princess Soohae will make a great queen.” I move to set the pastry basket down on a table near me.

“It’s not what you think. I was going to-“ He turns around in a frenzy and grabs the paper he was just writing on. The Prince takes a step closer and it takes all my strength to recoil. It takes all of me not to be swayed by the obvious hurt on his face. This will be good for us, I have to remind myself.

My hand is up, drawing the line. “You don’t have to explain. It’s not what I’m here for.”

He hesitantly puts his arm down, eyebrow twitched in confusion. The paper is still in his hands.

“I got you a gift,” I partly smile. “A wedding gift and I guess, also… a goodbye gift.” With that statement, I break away from his stare, fixating on a corner in his grand room.

I hear paper wrinkling. “A goodbye gift?” His voice gets lower and it causes me to wince. It feels like all the tension in the room gathered in the small vacancy in my chest and the overwhelming pressure makes my eyes sting. I can already feel the tears build up as I play with the hem of my shirt.

“Mhm,” I painfully affirm. “The wedding cake. It’s both my gift and my goodbye. I thought you requested it when I first got the royal letter,” I laugh at the situation, trying to stop myself from letting him see me cry.

“Turns out it wasn’t you, but regardless. You’re getting married and I can’t be here anymore. So I left it in the kitchen. Obviously, it’s not a goodbye-goodbye, since I’ll still be living here in the city, but… No. Yeah, it’s a goodbye,” I nod to myself, trying to unravel the knot in my throat. “I guess you took my advice, huh? Congratulations, your highness.”

The silence from him is thick and it leaves a sour feeling in my stomach. It calls me to look up at him, and his eyes are icy cold. The sweet honey brown is as dark as coal.

“This is your response?” His words are robotic, I can feel the venom on his tongue as it pricks at my heart.

“S-sorry?” I tilt my head, not understanding him. It felt terrifying to make him repeat himself in the state he’s in.

“I told you I loved you. I’m assuming this is your response.” My eyes flicker to the paper in his fist, no longer readable. Neither is his face as he gives me the blankest look. It makes me want to cry more knowing this is how I will remember our last moments.

This time, I do take a step towards him but he’s shaking his head aggressively, lower back pressed against the edge of his desk. Now I know how he felt.

“If you want to hear me say ‘I love you’, you know I can’t do that.” Just having those three words leave my lips causes a tear to roll down my cheek.

“Because I’m the Prince?” This time, his expression changes to match mine. I can feel the frustration and pain radiating off of him, and all I want to do is to tell him what he needs to hear. But I just nod, forcing a distance.

“So it always mattered. What if… what if it was 7-year-old Donghyuck asking his princess? What would you have said? You didn’t know who I was back then. I was just… just Donghyuck.” He sighs, his body is limp as he settles onto his desk. I notice his frail build, worried that he’s been eating less.

I smile, fondly remembering the ignorant bliss from 15 years ago. But then I’m forced to remember our situation now, our ugly situation where our hearts are demanded to stay silent.

“I would’ve told him I loved him too.”

And with that, all strength is gone as I sob into my palm. I’m trying to force the wails in, but my body is shaking. My legs feel weak and he’s over here and his arms are wrapped tightly around me in a second. I can feel his heart beating against my arm trapped between our bodies and his breath shakily blowing on the top of my head. One hand is holding me tight and the other is brushing through my hair as he shushes me.

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” He repeats. A part of me thinks this is to calm himself down too.

I know I’m right when I slowly pull myself back and see the red in his eyes and on the tip of his nose. My hand flinches as I’m about to caress his cheek. His breath is steadier as it now fans across my face and his eyes are lidded like they’ve finally got some rest. My hesitation vanishes as I let myself cup his face, trace the constellation painted on his cheek, and feel the sweetness of his lips on mine. The warm sensation that envelops my body makes me gasp and Donghyuck tightens his embrace on me, refusing to let go. He tasted better than every sweet treat I’ve had combined. He was intoxicating and my whole body buzzed like a sugar rush.

I close my eyes tighter, savoring the feeling of his lips, wanting to remember every trace — letting myself be selfish this last time. He’s sugary, cozy, and soothing like the afternoon sun on my back. His mouth moves with such ease against mine and it feels like I’ve been kissing him my whole life. The feeling of his tongue gently nudging my bottom lip jolts me back to reality and I push away, seized by the cold air of his big room again.

I bring my hands to my face, hoping to cool down the flush. The Prince is breathing as heavily and in sync with me, and all I can hear is our matching breaths and the ringing in my ears. I have to end it here.

“Um. Congratulations on your wedding,” I say in one breath. I don’t dare look at him as I quickly bow, scrambling to his door.

“Princess! Wait,” He grabs my wrist, almost too tight. “I can’t go through with this. Please, I-I only want to marry you.”

“Your highness…”

“Don’t. Don’t call me that. Say my name, please. Call me Hyuck. Call me Donghyuck. Anything but that. Just don’t-“ His teeth are chattering and he blinks away the tears. “Don’t leave me again.”

Without a second thought, I’m shaking my head ‘no.’ Even with tears blurring my vision, I can see the hurt on his face and I feel a part of my heart rot. It pains me just as much to reject him, but the Queen’s words swirl around in my head, unrelentless. I’m forced to leave him and my heart here and I want to scream, but I can’t. He notices that. It reminds him of himself.

Letting the finality of my decision settle in, he lets go of me, taking in a shaky breath. This was our end.

I restrain myself from taking any steps towards him as I reach for the door behind me. The wooden panel swings open, gliding past my extended fingers as I’m met with the face of the Queen.

That same hand shoots up to touch my lips, remembering what just happened in here and I bow till my hair grazes the tiled floors.

“Your Majesty,” I squeak. She looks at me with a million emotions and plants her glare at the Prince. Like pieces of a puzzle coming together, her face twists into anger, dissecting the situation. I take this as my cue to leave but the Queen shuts the door behind the both of us. I don’t hear the Prince make any moves to save me.

“What were you doing in there?” She angrily whispers between clenched teeth. Not sure what comes over me, but the fear I felt before is gone. Instead, I’m left feeling numb.

“Don’t worry. I was just saying goodbye.” I swallow, bracing myself for her reprimands.

A beat passes, before she speaks, this time in a normal tone. “Are you done?”

I nod, “Yes, and I’d like to be excused from attending the wedding to serve the cake.” The Queen’s eyebrows quirk up, shocked that I’ve made a request. I look her straight in the eyes so she knows I mean it.

“I can’t… I can’t be there for that. I believe I’ve done all the preparation I can and I am not needed to actually attend.” My confidence waivers, and I draw my attention back to the ground.

“Fair enough. You don’t have to attend. I’ll tell the other bakers to serve it.” I take my chance to meet her eyes again and I can almost see concern on her face. I shake my head of that ridiculous thought, and offer her my best smile.

“Thank you, your majesty.” I bow before dragging my feet off the palace grounds. Hoping to never set foot in here ever again.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Bells. I plan to remove all bells from my bakery. The royal wedding bells have been ringing all morning and I don’t need any more reminders moving forward.

I spent the whole night crying after leaving the palace and then my anxiety kicked in, trying to get me to map out my life without him. Naturally, I planned to pour myself into work and here I am, out of bed, manning the shop by myself on his wedding day. I may have cried into a batch of dough in the morning, but baby steps are important. This is only day one anyways.

I realized I made a mistake leaving the house when I overheard everyone in town talk about the wedding of the century. I even let my employees off for the day, mainly to have my space to wallow alone. Practically everyone was outside the palace gates, waiting to get a glimpse of the couple. The streets were currently empty and I wonder if I should just close up shop.

Right when I was about to count up the cash and close out the register, the bell on the door jingles. I’m halfway into the one dollar bills when I roll my eyes at the sound, pressing my lips together to stop a groan. I make a mental note to remove the bell before I leave.

I look up to check on the customer and I see a man with, of course, brown hair surveying the bread on the back wall. All I can see is the back of his head as he peruses. I scoff to myself at the instant fluttering of my chest at yet another brunette customer. Is no one blond anymore? Are gingers that rare for me to never encounter one in my bakery?

I finish counting the ones and I move onto the fives when I realize he’s still standing in the same spot. I’m organizing the bills in my hands as I examine him. Normal guy. Black hoodie. Jeans.

Maybe he’s just really indecisive. I can see him tapping his foot from the counter. I decide to offer help after I finish counting the five dollar bills.

With the last dollar to count, I place it in the tray and slowly walk over to the man. As I get closer, my stranger danger instincts kick in and I suddenly regret my decision. His foot is still shaking and from this close, I can see him fidgeting with his sleeves in front of him. I grab a pair of tongs from the closest case and approach him.

“Excuse me, sir? Can I help you find something?” I have the tongs gripped with both hands, discreetly but ready to swing.

I see his body tense and my breath hitches, thinking I’m really going to have to hit this man with my makeshift weapon.

He turns around painstakingly slow and I raise the tongs instinctively to block my face, before letting out a squeal.

But then I see his face. And different bells go off.

“Oh my god. Hyuck?”

The bags under his eyes are prominent and I finally notice the way his hair has been pulled in different directions. His lips are dry as he cracks a sheepish smile. He’s rubbing the back of his neck and notices the kitchen utensil in my hands.

“Were you gonna hit me?!” His mouth is open in surprise and he’s taking the tongs from my hands. I let him and put my hands up in defense.

“You were standing there for so long, all fidgety! I’m alone in here, what was I supposed to think?” I fight back, taking the tongs back and clutching it close to my chest.

He lets out a long sigh, seemingly frustrated with himself as he runs his hands through his hair. I hate that I find it attractive.

“Wait.” He looks up at me through his lashes, swallowing. “What are you doing here?” I ask. He blinks, knowing that question was coming.

I expected to feel sick awaiting his answer, but instead my heart is racing, anticipating his next words. I almost feel that false hope I felt a week ago, and I try hard to deny it. But the way he’s looking at me leaves me with no doubts.

I’m about to push him out the door when he digs a hand into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. The wrinkled piece of paper from yesterday. He plays with it in his hands as he thinks about his next move.

“I was drafting a request to get the law changed.”

His words peak my interest. I set the tongs down and let him continue. Wrapping my arms around my waist for security, I’m fearful of what he has to say next.

“I’ve actually been working on it for the past two months.” He flattens the paper out in his hands. “You caught me finishing the final draft yesterday. I didn’t expect it to take up until my wedding day…” He laughs, unhumored by the situation.

He hands it to me. “This is an old copy now, but it’s actually already being reviewed by the King. Right now. Being who I am, I fled just in case.”

He looks at me anxiously as I read the top of the page, the words in bold:

Formal Petition to Repeal the Royal Marriage Ordinance

Written By Prince Lee Donghyuck

My eyes don’t believe what’s written, like the royal letter I received not too long ago, requesting I bake the royal wedding cake. The same royal stamp and all rests in the top left corner.

This time, I can read the words clearly. They settle into my chest, leaving me with such a funny feeling. I read the text and I can tell it’s written by him. I imagine him staying up every night after we meet in the kitchen, working by himself on this proposal. All of his hard work for the past couple months was printed on this very paper. All this work… for us.

I feel my cheeks wet from pure joy and I cover the smile straining my mouth. A rush unfurls through my body like sweet, sweet sugar and I look up to share it with him.

“Donghyuck… You-?”

“Marry me.”

He gets down on one knee, holding my free hand. He’s rubbing that one spot on my ring finger and it feels unreal. The gleam in his eyes reminds me of the toasty fires in the oven, the glistening mangos on his favorite tart. His smile matches mine, nervous just slightly, and I want to paint this memory in my brain forever. The love and desperation in his eyes are begging me to think of him. Think of us. Every fear that had been eating away at me the past month was overcome by his pleas. This paper and his actions are proof that we can happen.

He continues,

“Princess, please marry me. I’ve only wanted to marry you almost my entire life. I know that sounds crazy, but how can I doubt my obvious soulmate? You always come back to me, but I still don’t want another reason for you to have to leave. So please, trust me and trust us. Forget everything and everyone else and say you’ll marry me. If this petition doesn’t pass, I’ll continue to fight. Just…

Say you’ll be my princess forever.”

I tug his hand softly to get him to stand up. He obliges and I free my hands to hold his face. He finally breathes and closes his eyes, leaning into my touch. I can feel him relax and his hands rest on my hips, drawn like a magnet. My mind is bouncing back and forth trying to contain the frenzy in my heart and the steady warmth of my core. I tap his eyelid lightly with my thumb and ask him to look at me. He opens them slowly, fear still trickling in his irises. I smile at him.

“My Prince,” His breath hitches. “I love you too.”

Donghyuck wastes no time tucking his head into my neck and lifting me against his body. He spins me around between the cases of bread and I giggle, feeling his heart beat erratically against mine. He softly lets my feet touch the ground and we’re looking at each other again, tears adding sparkles to his eyes. I wipe them away instantly.

“Thank you for coming back,” he whispers, but it feels like he said it with his whole being.

“Always.” I say with just as much commitment.

We’re cherishing the moment together, laughing at how happy we get to be, when the wedding bells go off once more. I look at him with confusion and he shrugs, just as lost.

“I can’t believe my wedding cake is going to waste,” I pout, remembering all my hardwork. And he squeezes my hip at my choice to be silly, snickering.

“I can’t believe you went with a lemon cake. Do you even know me?” He teases, pretending to be hurt. I gasp, slapping his chest.

“I’ll make sure to go with the mango tarts for ours.” I press a soft kiss on his lips and he smiles with me, pulling me unbelievably closer.

“I like the sound of that,” Donghyuck hums.

“I’m sure you do.” I laugh.

Donghyuck and I stand there in each other’s arms for as long as our legs allow. We talk about the past, how it felt to leave each other. We talk about the garden and I admit to catching him talk to his mom, which explains everything he needs to know. Even as I’m profusely apologizing, he’s doing the same, saying sorry for putting me in such a situation. I choose to ask about Princess Soohae and he bites his lip nervously, telling me he hasn’t handled that predicament yet. I almost drag him out of the bakery at the sound of that. We even go over his repeal proposal and I call him out for some typos.

Eventually we move to the kitchen, doing what we do best, and what we’ve done for years, waiting for someone to find him. The Prince and his Princess.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A/N: i hope you enjoyed!! pls like, reblog, reply, whatever!! if u want hehe

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its-time-to-write · 11 months

Note

Omg I'm loving your response to my prompts!! thank you

I have a few ideas (You don't have to do them all) just throwing them out there to see what sparks ideas!!

I love secret admirer stories (I know its no where close to valentines day but still) maybe Reader is Rebecca's assistant and keeps getting gifts leading up to valentines day but she is pretty sure its like Sam or Isaac and tells friend Jaime (even though its really him) then the day of the grand finale and she comes to the lovely surprise of it being Jaime!

also if you could include Scarlett red roses in it for me (They are my favorite flower and the only flower I'm not allergic to)

So. I liked this one. Maybe too much? It might be the longest one I’ve written so far, so, uh, sorry about that. But I liked it a lot. It might be one of my favorite things I’ve ever written. Hope you enjoy. also the gif isn’t Jamie Tartt but it is Phil Dunster so hopefully that’s ok

honey, i’ll give you all my time

Good god, it’s February all ready. You have a love-hate relationship with the month; love, because Galentine’s Day and hate because Valentine’s Day. You and your friends would go out on February 15th to get discount chocolate from the shops, then return home for an ungodly amount of takeout and a movie. On the whole, you all preferred action movies with a good romance.

You’re dreading Valentine’s Day because it’s when your boyfriend of two years held your hands in his, and told you he wanted to break up.

That was a year ago. You’re mostly angry that he’s a dark stain on one of your favorite holidays. You’re absolutely determined not to let him ruin your enjoyment.

This is also the first year you’re not with your friends. You moved away last March because you realized your ex had been holding you back in far too many ways.

So. To recap.

You’re alone. You love Valentine’s Day, despite it forever being the day of your breakup. Your friends aren’t here. You have new friends. There is no one to go to the shops with on the 15th. But discount chocolate is still discount chocolate.

Your current job is as a personal assistant, something you excel at. You basically anticipate needs, meet them, and just generally make your employer’s life a whole lot easier. The application said the job required a lot of travel, but all expenses (minus some food) were covered.

You were shocked when you got an interview, then a second, then a third, then were hired.

Your boss is a woman named Rebecca Welton, and you’re half in love with her, but who isn’t, really?

You swear you’ve never been in such a healthy work environment. You mention it one day, early on, and she says it’s all thanks to their head coach, someone named Ted.

You meet him for the first time later that day, and you understand.

It’s impossible not to love him, because he has vision. He knows what he wants from his team, and he knows how to get it.

He believes the team extends far beyond the players.

He believes it extends to you, too.

Ted and Coach Beard steal you from Rebecca as often as they can, claiming emergencies such as “a toxic amount of testosterone from all these boys,” “life-threatening boredom,” and last but not least, “there’s a new pun Ted absolutely needs to test right now and he won’t take no for an answer.”

(You like to give Ted honest feedback on his puns.)

You also find yourself in their office when Rebecca is out for lunch, eating your respective sandwiches and swapping life stories.

They remind you a lot of your parents.

It’s mid-June when you mention the Valentine’s Day story.

It doesn’t hurt as much when it’s punctuated by Ted’s “he didn’ts” and Beard’s perfectly-timed gasps.

You find yourself laughing halfway through, unable to stop.

“And anyway,” you finish, cheeks painful from smiling so hard, “that’s why romantic love is a joke and I am drowning myself in platonic love forever.”

Ted and Beard share a look. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Beard says.

You shoot him a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”

“Well sweetheart,” Ted says, “between the two of us collectively,” here points between him and Beard, “we know of at least three of the boys on the team who are madly in love with you.”

“What?” you gasp, “How did you- where did you- who??”

Ted zips his lips and Beard tips a finger to him. “We know of five if we count Rebecca’s intel.”

You’re sitting cross-legged on the edge of Beard’s desk, in shock. “Rebecca knows about this??”

Ted and Beard shrug in unison. “We all have our opinions on which one should shoot their shot, but that’s neither here nor there,” Ted says.

“Coincidentally, it’s the one thing we unanimously agree on,” Beard nods.

You’re cut off from saying anything by the door opening. One of the players stands in the doorway.

“Excuse me, coach,” he says, accent thick.

Ted motions in a you have the floor type of way, and the footballer turns to address you of all people. “We’re all goin’ out tonight, and Keeley sent me to invite the new girl. None of the lads have really met you yet, just seen you ‘round. Thought it might be good for team bonding, or something. I’m Jamie, by the way.”

“Oh,” you say, taken aback. “I guess- yeah, I guess I haven’t really met them. I mean, I see you guys around and stuff and I’m at your games, but I don’t really know you. Are you sure you want me to come?”

Jamie shrugs. “Coach is always on us about bein’ a team or some shit. And, havin’ a girl around makes the lads look good.”

You think that makes sense, and then find yourself agreeing to go out that night with a group of footballers you don’t know, and (thank god) Keeley Jones.

You’re going to figure out which five before the summer’s over.

—

You have nice time out with the lads. They go to a bar and cram into separate booths. You’re wedged in between two who have introduced themselves as Isaac and Dani, and across from Sam, Bumbercatch, and Jan Maas. Roy, Richard, and a few others you don’t know are milling about, and you see Jamie and Keeley at a table, surrounding by giggling girls. The sight is so absurd that you catch yourself smiling and turning back to whatever conspiracy Bumbercatch is telling you about now.

—

You put Sam at the top of your list as soon as you get home. The man wears his heart on his sleeve, or maybe in his eyes, but you’re positive that he’s one of the five Ted and Beard referred to. One down, four to go.

—

It’s the end of July, and you begin to become friends with the team. You know for an absolute fact who is not interested in you, Jamie being one of them. Coincidentally, he’s the one you become closest to. You think it’s because you’re not worrying about sending mixed signals or leading him on. You dropped public hints about not really looking for anything romantic, just to be sure you wouldn’t hurt anyone.

As it is, Jan Maas and Dani have made the list. Jan Maas, because he stifled his Dutch bluntness for you and Dani, because he openly declared he was madly in love with you in front of the whole team.

—

Isaac makes the list in December. It had been in between him and Bumbercatch, but Isaac was the one who walked you to your car every night and the first one to say hello to you every morning.

You’re not gonna lie, it was cute.

You shared some of this with Ted and Beard, who remained impressively stone-faced. Rebecca proved to be equally impervious.

You shared all of it with your lunch-buddy-turned-work-bestie, Jamie.

You ate with him because Rebecca was constantly in lunch meetings these days, and Ted, Beard, and Roy were always revamping their football strategies.

Jamie would plop down at your table and say, “What’s the news, Amy Hughes?” in his perfect Mancunian accent, and then listen/add commentary to whatever you had to say.

You explained to him that the reason you wanted to know who liked you was so that you could be extra careful with their hearts. You knew what it was like to be led on, and you did NOT want to do that to someone else.

Jamie nodded thoughtfully at that and then said, “We’re all footballers though, ain’t we? We get the shit end of the stick all the time, hearts broke by models and whatever. Even ends up in the fucking press. Everyone here’s has their heart broken before, and we all know you aren’t doing it on purpose.”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “I’m pretty sure it’s short end of the stick, Jamie.”

And thus begins your lunch hour of bickering.

—

No one has made a move on you yet, and you don’t have a read on number five. You still think it may be Bumbercatch, but in reality, it slips from your mind. Sam’s moved on, Jan Maas has accepted defeat, Dani swears he will love you until the day he dies, and Isaac stays, well, Isaac. Still sweet. Still walking you to your car, coming round extra early in the morning with a coffee or a water, depending on which “looked less like shit.”

Really though, you don’t think about it until February first, when you walk into your office to a small box on your desk.

At first, you think it’s a box of Ted’s biscuits.

Then, you notice a small, scarlet-red rose taped to the top. There’s no note, and all that’s inside is a tiny paper heart.

It’s folded with extreme care, and you place it on your shelf, smelling the rose. It smells amazing and you make a mental note to figure out where the heck it came from. But for now, it’s time to work.

—

You don’t mention the gifts until February third, because now there’s been one a day. Each one with a scarlet red rose, and a different gift. Yesterday was an incredibly expensive bar of chocolate (it was life-changing) and today is a tiny gold bracelet.

It’s a simple enough chain, but it is absolutely breathtaking. There is no mistaking the fact that it is not cheap, so you take it and march straight to Rebecca’s office.

“Rebecca,” you say, hands outstretched, “look.”

She does, smiles, then says, “It appears you have a secret admirer.”

“But I don’t want that!” you cry. “I don’t even have time for that! I don’t even like anybody right now!”

She peers at you over her glasses. “Don’t you?”

The sheer weight of those words is enough to physically knock you back two steps.

You don’t, you swear you don’t, you’re absolutely sure.

What about Vienna? a voice in the very back of your head nags.

You reply, out loud, “We don’t talk about Vienna,” and Rebecca just shrugs.

“Have it your way,” she replies in a tone that means this conversation is over, but you’re the one ending it.

You turn on your heel and find yourself taking the route to Ted and Beard.

You burst into their office in such a flurry that the entire room turns to look at you. “Close the door,” you say with such urgency, that Trent hurries to comply. Beard even shuts the blinds.

“What’s on your mind, Ollie Cline?” Ted asks.

“Wait,” you say, holding up a hand. You point to Roy. “Do you want to be here? It involves feelings.”

“Fuck no,” says Roy, “thanks for being fucking considerate.” He follows it up with a pointed glare at Ted, then goes into his office and firmly shuts the door.

“Can he be here?” Ted asks, tilting his head toward Trent.

“I don’t care, he’s probably a good one to have around for this because look!” You present the three collected roses and the bracelet.

“Someone’s started leaving me gifts, and I’m pretty sure it’s a Valentine’s thing because of the roses, and it was fine for the first two days but this is expensive, and I can’t accept this!”

Ted and Beard share a look. You hate it when they do that and leave you out.

Ted sighs. “Listen, do you think this about Vienna?”

You fix him with a glare. “No. We are not talking about Vienna ever again.”

Trent pipes up, “What’s Vienna?” and you wheel around on him, taking your glare with you.

“Vienna," you spit, like it’s poisonous, “is a terrible, awful place where people think terrible, awful things. I never want to talk about it again and I never will.”

Trent nods. “Noted.”

You turn back to Ted and Beard, pleadingly. “What do I do? Tell me what to do.”

Beard gets up and puts his hand on your shoulder. “Kid, if you want my advice, take the damn roses and wear the damn bracelet. These boys make more money than they know how to spend, so just let it go. They all know how you feel about dating, so if someone’s shooting their shot, they know the stakes.”

You shake your head. “Fine. Fine. I’ll let it go.”

—

You decide to tell Jamie on day five, because it’s a Friday and you’re dying to get his take. You tell him everything, show him the roses in your office (hanging upside down to dry), and then hand him the notebook that was in today’s box.

“Jamie,” you say, “this is an expensive notebook. There was a typed note inside that said, ‘for your drawings.’ How did this person even know I like drawing? I never talk about it!”

Jamie looks at you and laughs a little. You’re very flustered for something most people would enjoy. “Dunno, love, but we’ve all seen the sticky notes you leave Coach. That might be it.”

You groan and flop down into your chair.

“At least tomorrow’s the weekend,” you say.

—

Jamie’s phone dings at 9:00am on Saturday with a text from you that says, what the actual heck and a picture of a brown bag at your doorstep. Inside is a plastic box of your favorite lemon muffin from a local bakery. He emphasized the image, then waits for your response.

It was still warm, you write. It was someone who knows where I live and knows what time I leave to get breakfast.

Jamie grins and sends you a shrugging emoji, and you respond with an eye roll and a you’re no fun.

Jamie reads that and privately disagrees. He thinks he’s lots of fun

—

You’re pretty sure it’s Isaac. After all, he’s the only likely candidate. He’s one of the few who knows where you live and knows your routine. Not in a creepy way, in a we’re-good-friends type of way. You bring this up to Jamie, after personally banning all talk of this with Ted, Beard, and Rebecca. Stupid Vienna. You should never have told them.

Jamie shrugs for the millionth, infuriating time. He’s been noncommittal this whole time. You’re over here pouring out your heart and soul, considering whether you like Isaac romantically or not, and all he can say is, “I dunno?”

This is not the Jamie Tartt you’ve become best friends with.

That Jamie would be down to hunt this secret admirer with you. That Jamie would be helping you figure out if Isaac had a chance with you. That Jamie would be way more engaged than the one sitting in front of you right now.

But, you suppose maybe that Jamie died in Vienna, so you stop bringing it up.

—

It’s day ten. Valentine’s Day is in four day, and you’re nervous.

You’ve decided you don’t like Isaac like that, mainly because it shouldn’t take you that long to decide if you like anyone. There has to be an initial spark, and you shouldn’t try to manufacture it.

Still, you’re not sure it is Isaac, so you’re not going to say anything about it. The scarlet red roses hang on your office wall, permeating the room with their scent.

You feel like you’re dying.

This is a cruel joke and you’re dying.

The building is basically empty right now. Rebecca and Higgins have some meeting, the team is on the pitch (including Will) and various other staff are somewhere far away from you. So, you jump a little when Trent Crimm comes tripping into your office.

“Vienna,” he says, no greeting. “If you didn’t want to talk about it, you wouldn’t have told anyone. I’m assuming you do want to talk about it, but you don’t want judgement from the people you love. I’m here to offer my services as a neutral party.”

You look at him. “Trent. You are a journalist. Your whole job is writing down people’s secrets. Why on earth would I talk to you about the worst day of my life?”

Trent shrugs. “I’m good at keeping secrets. This would be off the record. I’ve never lied to people about off the record, also. I consider it bad journalism.”

You consider this for a moment, then sigh.

“Alright,” you concede. “At least if this gets out, I know whose head I’m shaving in retaliation.”

Trent looks at you in surprise, seeing you in a whole new, slightly threatening light.

“It happened two months ago. It was around Christmas, and I didn’t have anywhere to go…”

—

Your family all had their own separate plans that Christmas. Plans that didn’t really involve you. Same with your friends. You said something casually to Rebecca, and the next day she told you she had booked you a trip to Vienna. Call it an early Christmas present, she said. It was at the Aumaris Vienna, and it was gorgeous and ridiculously out of your budget, but she said you worked hard and gave her peace-of-mind, and you can’t really put a price on that, can you?

So you went.

But here’s the thing.

Someone else didn’t have Christmas plans.

So when you brought up your trip at your daily lunch, said someone else casually asked, can I come?

You almost choked on your sandwich.

Because here’s the other thing.

You were, maybe, kind of, possibly just a little bit head over heels in love with this someone else.

You’re not sure when it happened, really, just that it was probably in August and that it was soul-crushing because you knew for an absolute fact that he did not, and never would, feel the same way.

You didn’t tell anyone except Keeley, but under the condition that she just let you say it and that she never, ever give you a response to it. Just listen.

She did, but you were pretty sure she almost combusted.

But who are you to say no when Jamie Tartt invited himself on your luxurious Christmas vacation saying, I’ll pay extra to get a plane ticket next to you?

You were doomed from the start.

To make matters totally and impossibly worse, he couldn’t find another room.

He had his tickets, but the hotels, he said, were packed.

It was Christmas, after all.

So that’s how you ended up in a luxury hotel with Jamie Tartt for a week and a half, one day of which was Christmas.

You know the, “there was only one bed” trope that everyone thinks is so cute?

It was that, but only if you add deep, shattering heartbreak to it.

Because every night, you had to listen to Jamie say, “goodnight, love,” and then get into that giant, soft bed as far away from him as you could manage.

Every morning you woke up to the pillow barricade long gone, one of his arms thrown around you. Or one of your legs on top of his. Or a million different scenarios where you end up literally asleep together, some weird gravity pulling you to each other.

You were falling so hard and so fast, that you felt like the air was knocked from your lungs when Jamie started talking about the girl he liked.

“She’s just so fucking beautiful,” he’d say, staring at an Alpine mountain. Or, “Swear she’s the smartest fucking person I’ve ever met,” while traipsing through the city. Or, “Pretty sure she’s ruined me for everyone else,” while getting facials at the hotel spa.

To be fair, you were the one who teased him into admitting he liked someone.

You just didn’t expect it to hurt so much.

The entire trip felt like heaven and hell had simultaneously converged on you, and you never wanted to leave but also desperately counted the days till it was over.

You came back and broke down in Rebecca’s office. Ted and Beard were there. The whole thing came spilling out, about how you loved the trip so much it felt like your heart would explode but that Jamie loved someone else.

They all exchanged looks amongst themselves and did their best to comfort you.

You pulled yourself together and they promised never to say anything to anyone.

—

“So that’s Vienna,” you finish.

Trent is just staring at you, mouth slightly agape.

He finally says, “My god, that’s fucked,” with such emotion that you decide right then and there that you like Trent Crimm and his rainbow mug.

Now, you just shrug. “I did it to myself, honestly. That’s why I’m tripping out about this secret admirer thing. And god, Trent, the roses. They’re so beautiful and it’s so romantic, and whoever it is obviously knows me well so there’s a part of me that wants to like this person, but…” you trail off.

“But there’s a part of you that’s hoping against hope that Jamie’s behind it all,” Trent finishes.

You let out a little laugh. “Yeah, that about sums it up.”

Trent looks at the roses, then at you. “Maybe you should talk to Jamie,” he says, gently.

You reply with a forceful, “No,” and then follow up with a small, “That’s what Ted and Rebecca say, too.”

Trent stands up, shrugs, says with a small smile, “Just a thought,” then he’s out the way he came.

—

It is Valentine’s Day. And it’s a Sunday, which means you are legally required to stay in bed until 10, at which point you will get out only to make yourself decent enough to go buy a good cup of coffee and maybe (definitely) something to eat.

You’ve just finished putting on your shoes, when there’s a knock at the door.

You take a breath, and get ready to let down your secret admirer as gently as possible.

You swing open the door to reveal-

“Jamie! What are you doing here?”

Jamie Tartt is on your doorstep, hands behind his back, looking shyer than the day you first met.

He opens his mouth and says the last thing you’d ever expect:

“D’you remember Vienna?”

Your heart, which had already been going fast because his dumb floppy hair was all dumb and floppy in his stupid, cute headband, is now working double time. You manage a nod.

Jamie takes this as permission to continue. “D’you remember how I couldn’t get another room, no matter how hard I tried? That wasn’t true. I could’ve.” He pauses, and you wait for him to continue.

“And d’you remember when we met, when I told you Keeley told me to invite you out? That was a lie too.”

You tilt your head, confused. He keeps going.

“Look- I fucked it. I fucked it a million times and I told Ted and I told Beard, but they kept helping me un-fuck it and giving me chances, and then Rebecca bought two tickets to Vienna and slipped me the other one, and they all told me I had a perfect shot.”

You’re still not understanding what he’s saying. He might as well be speaking another language. Jamie sees the confusion in your eyes, takes a breath, and tries again.

“Keeley told me to invite you out, but only because I’d seen you around and thought you were fit. Then Isaac and all the lads thought the same thing, so I didn’t even get to fuckin’ sit with you. And then you started sayin’ things about not bein’ ready for a relationship, so I tried to let it go. I really fucking tried. But I just couldn’t. Your eyes are too sparkly and your laugh is too fucking cute and I couldn’t let it go, so I started eating lunch with you and you fucking let me. I knew the moment I said anything about liking you, it was over.”

Comprehension has started to dawn, but you push down hope until Jamie’s done speaking.

“Everyone told me to shoot my shot in Vienna. We shared a bed, for fuck’s sake.” Here, Jamie looks bewildered. “But I dunno, I didn’t want to make shit weird. So when you asked if I liked anyone I said yeah, and started fuckin describing you, but you never fucking picked up on it. That’s when I got the idea to try one more time. All by meself, no help from anyone else. So…yeah.”

Jamie Tartt is standing on your porch confessing his love for you on Valentine’s Day and it is not a dream, because if it were your teeth would be falling out and his hair would probably be neon pink.

“I’m an idiot,” you breathe. “You like me? Like, like-like me?”

Jamie quirks a smile at that. “Not quite, darling. Pretty fucking sure I love you.” He pulls his hand from behind his back to reveal a bunch of scarlet red roses. The same from each gift.

“Got these for you,” he says. “D’you know how hard it is to get red roses in February?”

You don’t answer him because you’re leaping into his arms, kissing him like you’ve thought about doing every day for what feels like forever. He’s kissing you back, hand with the flowers pressed against your back, other hand in your hair.

“I love you too, Jamie,” you whisper against his mouth. He smiles and pulls you in again.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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iouinotes · 4 months

Text

match made in heaven | Alex Walter

pairing: Alex Walter x female!reader

show: My life with the Walter boys

warnings: just kissing word count: 2,2k

summary: At your birthday party you get dared to spend 7 minutes in heaven with none other than your best friend Alex.

a/n: A modified review of "Beautiful boy" Thank you @rogueanschel-reads for the woderful idea!

"Come on, even a stranger can sense your attraction for each other, the hidden love that lays beneath your friendship."

Maybe it wasnt the best idea to play truth or dare.

Well, firstly I want to say that I love my friendgroup. Grace, Skylar, his boyfriend Nathan, Kiley and of course, my best friend Alex.

Really, I love these guys. But sometimes they make me want to jump off a cliff, no regretting or turning back.

In moments like this, where I want to spent a good time partying with my friends, because its my 16th birthday, they need to remind me of the he-who-must-not-be-named-topic. That means for outstanders, my non-existent, strictly friendly feelings for my best friend Alex.

The guy, who has absolutely no idea, he's being compared to Voldemort. But for the matter of fact, Harry Potter are my all-time favorite movies and early Voldemort was actually quiet handsome. So, it kinda makes sense. Why? Because Alex has put a spell on me with his smile and his pretty face.

But back to my party.

We are currently in the living room, our knees are touching the legs of the person next to us and someone (Grace) encouraged us to smuggle a few bottles of alcohol to the party, even though we didnt plan to drink.

Now, Skylar had the great idea to embarrass everyone by playing truth or dare, but with a twist. He likes to call it "match made in heaven" or what it actually means, making out in a closet. Something like that, I've never participated in any of these games.

Until now.

As I am the birthday girl, I started the game by choosing truth. But I could really have just voluntarily confessed my feelings for Alex. Because Grace winked at me and I knew at that moment, that the next few minutes meant trouble.

"So, y/n. Describe us your magical boy, that you dream of being able to call your own." I knew it. She could have just asked me what college I wanted to attend or something less embarrassing, but no. She needed to ask me about my type in boys, which obviously is my handsome, brown haired best friend next to me.

As I'm about to hide my head in my hands, I hear the encouraging shouts of the people I call my friends.

"Okay, okay. Let me think for a moment." I couldnt make it that obvious, I liked him. But still, it was worth a try.

"Someone who has an angelic smile, where you just stare at his face and can´t stop looking at him. I-I like brown hair and I dont know, what it is, but hazel eyes, they somehow make my heart beat faster. I mean- he´s attractive, because he is a gentleman. Caring and supportive, someone who listens to my wants and needs, but still continues to be his true self. I can read books with him or we watch movies together and talk about it after. He makes me feel seen, safe. I love him, because he is everything I could ever dream of and more."

When I finish speaking, Grace grins innocent and looks at me with her long eyelashes. "I wonder, who that could be."

My eyes secretly dart to Alex, trying to figure out, if he knows, that I am very obviously describing him. But he just watches the floor, his eyebrows are drawn together and I almost think, he looks annoyed.

"Someone is jealous" I hear Skylar´s voice in my ear.

As the game went on, his behavior kept being slightly off, even though he never said anything about it and continued to smile at me, when we looked at each other.

And then, Alex was asked about his favorite memory, whether it was about being in school, with family or with friends.

Well, he told them about the first time, he introduced me to his favorite book saga, the Lord of the Rings. I never knew, that day was so special for him, but as he described my hilarious reactions and facial features, how he saw my eyes widen with disbelief as he read out the first chapters, I remembered.

When I look back, it really was a wonderful night. We did a sleepover at his house and were talking about watching Harry Potter or The Lord of the Rings. Somehow, we also talked about the books and that I read the seven books about the famous wizard and he the books about the elves and other creatures (don´t judge me for this description). We discussed almost every aspect, but he still convinced me to give his favorite books a try. So we spent the night spread out on his bed, eating sweets and reading the first book. Well, he mostly read it out loud to me, because his pronunciation was definitely much better than mine. It was fun, also because I got to watch him being in his element, so it really was a heartwarming evening.

I smile at the memory, a warm feeling blooms in my chest and when he finishes talking about it, he looks at me fondly. I had to keep myself from wanting to giggle like a little girl, but my inner 13-year old, most definitely did giggle.

Back to the original topic. Next, Grace was dared to wear one of my clothes, Kiley told us about her celebrity crush (Timothee Chalamet, but you didnt hear it from me) and when Alex was asked who he would trust with his secret, if he was spiderman, he mentioned me again. It was sweet and I had planned to tell him, that I would love to be the girl in the chair.

But, as the game went on, my name constantly fell from his lips. He was dared to show one of the most terrible photos of him and revealed to the group, a snapshot from us, wearing unrecognizable Halloween costumes. Funny, but my idea to go as ghosts wasnt that bad.

Nevertheless, he talked about the best gift he had ever received, a pair of cowboy boots, I got him two years ago (Nathan was playfully annoyed that one of his presents werent the best one) and as the game continued, the question, that I tried my best to avoid, was eventually asked.

"You two are always around each other and I've barely seen you apart, like ever. Are you sure, there is nothing going on between you? It seems like it."

Alex and I looked at each other, but then quickly laughed it off. It was what we always did, when someone asked us about our close friendship. None of us really answered and that meant for me, that he neither confirmed or declined having feelings for me. Very confusing and bad for my hoping heart.

So, when our friends are looking at each other now, grinning like they planned something really wicked, I know, that my personal hell is waiting for me. Or in my situation, a modified version of heaven.

"Y/n, I dare you to play seven minutes in heaven with just your best friend Alex." Grace is smiling in front of me and when I want to debate about it, she cuts me off.

"But I havent said I would take dare-" my words are going silent and I only hear my pounding heart.

"You always choose truth, that´s boring. You get the dare now, so stand up and cuddle with your wizard!"

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Alex holds his hands out for me, so he can help me stand up. He silently looks at me and I try to assure him by smiling, but I think I´m failing at it. Because he looks as unnerved as I feel right now.

When we walk out of the room and into the small storage room, we hear Skylar´s distance shouting.

"No lights and close the door! That are the rules, we set the timer!"

Why was I friends with them again?

When we approach the room, unlocking the door and stepping inside, we are suddenly surrounded by darkness. And when he closes my only way to escape, its quiet for a moment. Then, I hear is curious voice.

"What did Grace mean about your wizard?"

I relax and gently laugh. Nothing has to happen, everything is fine.

"That you are as bad at keeping secrets than Draco. Harry really found out on the first day in 6th grade, that something was clearly up with him."

Alex groans. "Please no more talking about your Drarry shipping. I get it, it could have been an enemies-to-lovers romance."

I smack his arm, taking a step closer to him.

"Okay, what would you like to talk about instead?"

I can make out the outlines of his face in the darkness, seeing how he also takes a step closer. I feel myself breathing heavily and my hands nervously shaking.

"I think, that I should keep you warm, because I literally see your hands shaking." When he takes another step in my direction, I hold my breath and in the same second, I feel his arms wrap around me.

His hands find their way to my back, embracing me in his warmth until I feel him breathing on my neck. I need to stop myself from shivering at this feeling.

"I can work with that." I whisper, snuggling into his chest and closing my eyes. I hear his racing heart and immediately need to smile.

"Your heart is beating very fast." His chin rests on my head, I feel him holding me closer.

"It´s the darkness." Of course, it is.

When I also close my arms around his waist, I feel for the first time a kind of inner peace, that I read about in books.

When a character feels safe in the embrace of their beloved.

Silence surrounds us for a minute and I begin to thank Grace for her dare, because him holding me in his arms und me, hugging him, is much more than wonderful.

"When you call me a wizard, do I get to call you a witch?" I burst out a laughter at his question.

"Only if you won´t compare me to Umbridge." He nods quietly.

"You are as far away from being like Umbridge as the earth is away from the moon. So, you don´t have to worry."

"Good." We are silent again.

"So, have you ever thought about what you would do, if you would get to spent time with a person, when you have seven minutes in heaven?" I think for a few seconds, before I answer him.

"I always imaged this game as a way to confess feelings or solving a fight. Maybe a hidden chance to make out too, I guess."

I hear him taking a deep breath, not expecting much. Until-

"Can I kiss you?" My knees almost give out.

"You what-?" I turn to look at him. Noticing his widen pupils.

"I mean, would you, um, want to kiss. Like, me. Now. Not that you need to, but you sounded like you would want that experience, so-" he tries to hold a stable voice, but I can sense, that he's slowly freaking out.

"Alex. You just asked me, if we should kiss."

I can´t believe it.

"...yes?" He sounds so sincere.

"Why?" I ask, while continue to look at him, feeling every centimeter that divides our lips from touching.

"Like I said, I don´t want you to miss out on anything."

Silence.

"Okay and maybe I just wanted an excuse to kiss you, before that dream boy of yours does."

I lean forward, watching as his eyes keep looking at my lips, even though he tries to hold the eye contact.

I slowly raise my hand and place it on the back of his neck, caressing the dark hair and twirling a few strands.

"Are you jealous, pretty boy?" I feel his cheeks getting warm, seeing the effect my words have on him.

His hands hold me tighter and a startled expression is shown on his face.

"What? Me, jealous? No." I raise my eyebrows at him.

He signs. "Maybe. I dont like the thought of someone else with you." His thumb brushes over my lips.

"Kissing you, touching you. It just doesnt feel right, that someone else would do that."

"You mean, someone who isnt you?" I look at his lips and he hums quietly. His hand slowly wanders to my chin and directs my head closer to him, I can feel his breath on my skin.

"We don´t have to do it-" I begin to talk, but then again, when he speaks up, his voice sounds out of breath, like he's holding himself back.

"No, it´s just one...little...kiss" his voice becomes quieter, the less distance there is between our faces.

And with one, last look, he catches my lips in a slow kiss. Keeping me close to him, by holding onto my waist. His hands find their way to my cheeks, caressing them with his fingers and I feel my heart pounding as prominent against my chest as feel him kissing me.

I don't notice, that he's directing me back until I gently hit the wall, while his hands slowly explore my sides. My hands tangle in his hair, tugging him closer, so I can feel everything of him.

And in that moment, I understand the name of the game. Because this truly feels like heaven.

When I notice, that I can´t breath anymore (but who needs oxygen when you can have Alex Walter), we gently break apart. Still holding onto each other.

And as soon as we catch our breath, both of us are smiling at each other and we share our feelings without a word.

"That was-" he doesnt get to finish his sentence, because in a blink of an eye, the door opens and brightness consumes us.

We quickly break apart, but apparently too late, because Grace´s voice is the first one to tease us.

"Right, you are just friends."

You can imagine, what the entire evening after that was like...

#alex walter #my life with the walter boys #fanfic #x reader #7 minutes in heaven #birthday #in love #best friends #best friends to lovers

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writingstoraes · 10 months

Note

Hey are you still accepting request idk but if you are, can you please write a charles x famous actress like FAMOUS famous if you get what i mean 😭😭 and people doesn't believe them being together even tho he listed her as his fav actresses because they are like "there's no way he bagged this goddess" and rest is up to you honestly i tried to be very vague because at the end of the day it's still your story!!

unbelievable 🎬

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!actress!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: hello lovely! yes i am accepting requests but as of now i'm only doing ones w charles (those who requested for other drivers pls be patient hehe) thank you so much for requesting and i hope you like this 🤍 hope you don't mind i tweaked some details!

about: as much as fans adore charles, they deem it "impossible" that rumors circulating social media are true!

YouTube, now playing: 2023 Grid, 5-Second Challenge

1023 comments

livelaughleclerc: totally relatable i would also risk my life for y/n

ynloves: oh who is he he's so adorable 😣

f1fans22: charles is a big fan of y/n and he will never live it down i fear

filmlines: KING HES SO RELATABLE

yourusername

liked by lanadelslay, charles_leclerc, zendaya, and 2,395,921 others

yourusername Word on the street? 💐

filmluver mam what do you mean word on the street the word is literally you and a formula 1 driver dating

lecssainzzzz this is so sick literally right when the dating rumors are setting twt on fire 😭

hamilecsz you're telling me there's a possibility her and charles are actually dating...

ynpopper who????? f1thusiast charles leclerc, he's an f1 driver, there's a rumor they're apparently dating

moviegeekz A soft launch??? Well this is new 🤭

lecsstappen CHARLES LIKED???

f1bees girl ofc he's her biggest fan its not surprising 😭

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, pierregasly, alexalbon23, and 1,204,295 others

charles_leclerc Some pop of color for today.

landonorizz THE FLOWERS???? SIR???

hamilt0n oh my god what if the rumor is actually true i am going to break down

sainzmilton ever since that rumor came out i haven't known peace 😣

maxyrbr19 i still dont believe he can pull her....

scuderiasz calm down guys he's just being a fanboy 🙏

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, yourusername, lorenzotl, and 1,928,249 others

charles_leclerc Would still be your biggest fan even if I wasn't your boyfriend, but who says I can't do both?

Joyeux anniversaire, mon amour ❤️ Happy anniversary, my love.

tagged: yourusername

yourusername Glad to know I remain unparalleled as your favorite actress, baby 😘

charles_leclerc You're my favorite person, too 🤷 pierregasly Now that's just sick, Charles

daylightlando OH I LOVE THIS SO MUCH

f1paddockz power and it couple of the year i said what i said

carlossainz55 Now we said she was our favorite actress too but why weren't we acknowledged?

landonorris YEAH??? yourusername I'm sorry...

yourusername

liked by zendaya, arianagrande, selenagomez, and 8,294,392 others

yourusername My biggest fan 🤍 Sometimes it's unbelievable I get to be with you everyday.

yncults we love u queen we're so happy for you 🙏

lovingyn SO ADORABLE

filmpopz the hardest a hard launch has ever launched im afraid

charles_leclerc Some say it's the other way around 🤣

lecsluv he saw the comments omg 😭 ferrarirbr we're sorry we ever doubted you, king 😣

----------

tagging: @slytherheign, @honethatty12, @siovhanroy, @fdl305, @iloveyou3000morgan, @cxcewg, @sassyheroneckgiant, @ang3licho3, @pitlanebabe, @riverdalexvixens, @msliz, @boherahpsody (if anyone else wants to be a part of my taglist, pls lmk by replying or sending me a message hehe)

notes: thank you so much for reading <3

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cerise-on-top · 3 months

Note

What kind of dates would Gaz, Laswell, Valeria, and Alejandro take you on? (Assuming they had the time lmao)

I'm sick as hell but your blog gives me lots of lovely things to think about while I recover- have a wonderful day ❤️🙏

Hello! I hope you'll get better soon, being sick is just about the worst thing you can be, I was sick not too long ago as well! I'm glad to hear my blog can give you something nice to think about, that was my intention!

Dates with Gaz, Alejandro, Valeria and Laswell

Gaz: He’s a simple man, so he’d likely take you on rather simple dates. Something along the lines of going to the cinema, or maybe taking a walk in the park with him. It doesn’t need to be anything fancy for him, sometimes he just likes being able to spend time with you alone as well, so it’ll be an indoor date where you watch a movie and cuddle with each other on the couch. Gaz can be a rather touchy guy if you allow him to be, so he’ll likely nuzzle into you a bit as he holds you close. If it was up to him you’d be blankie burritoed until you couldn’t move and would be reliant on him to carry you to bed. However, he also loves watching movies. While he may not be the biggest fan of anime he’ll watch it with you if you absolutely insist on it. Loves, and I mean loves, discussing the movies you’ve watched together afterwards. From the soundtrack to the visuals, the story to its message, he loves spending time with you and telling you all his thoughts about the movie. Saying something sophisticated makes him feel smart, and you actually agreeing with him makes him feel good too. Even if you’re not as movie-literate as he might be, he can still appreciate you listening to everything he has to say about it. If you do listen to him then he’ll invite you to another bucket of popcorn, it’s all on him, even if you insist on paying for him instead. Gaz just loves winding down with the one he loves, so he doesn’t always need to have the most exciting dates. As long as he gets to spend time with you, even in complete silence as you both do what you want, he’s a happy man.

Alejandro: I can see his dates being a bit more exciting than Gaz’. Alejandro is a rather active man and loves some action, so he’d likely love something along the lines of going to an amusement park. His stomach can handle quite a lot, so even the rougher rides won’t be too much of an issue for him. He just hopes that you can take just as much as he can. However, if you like going to amusement parks then you’ve scored with him. It doesn’t only have to be the rollercoasters you’ll be riding, though, sometimes he just loves going to a haunted house with you as well. He’d love it if you’re a scaredy cat about this sort of stuff who clings onto him for safety and reassurance. He’ll laugh a bit about you being so absolutely adorable, and call you out on being a bit scared, but he won’t shoo you away for holding onto him. In fact, he’ll encourage it. Alejandro doesn’t scare easily, he thinks haunted houses to be quite funny, especially with you. Please do hold onto him, though, he loves feeling like the stronger, trusted person who’s with you until the end of it all. He wants nothing more than to be someone you can rely on, even if it’s just something stupid. He certainly also wouldn’t mind going to a tunnel of love with you. Since he doesn’t need to always be so serious with you, he likes goofing around and giving you a big old kiss when he can. His favorites are the rollercoasters, though. He’s loved those ever since he was a child and wants to share that joy with you. Just hearing you scream and laugh with joy makes his heart flutter. He enjoys looking at you as the rollercoasters get to the scary part, all the while you’re either pale or laughing. It warms his heart to spend such a wonderful day with you and no one else.

Valeria: Unlike Gaz and Alejandro, even on date nights she needs to show off just how powerful of a woman she is. Ergo she’ll take you on dates where you’ll be eating some fancy food. Don’t even think about paying yourself. Besides, chances are if you’re a normal worker, then you likely won’t be able to afford the food anyway. However, going to a restaurant every once in a while would be kind of boring in and of itself, so Valeria would like to couple something like that with something else. The Christmas market is in town? There’s a musical you’d like to see? You just wanna go stargaze? Valeria is down for it all. Although she’d need some convincing to go stargazing with you since being outside is a huge risk for her, being seen even more so with you. Other than that she’d amuse herself greatly upon watching a play. She never got to see any when she was a child, even if she had always wanted to see something along the lines of a good musical. And now that she can she won’t let anything at all take that away from her. You better be ready to hear about some new musical or opera in town that you’ll be visiting. An opera she’s always wanted to see would be Carmen, so if that one’s ever in town she’ll be taking some days off to watch it with you, doesn’t matter what she has to do. As long as she gets to be fancy with you and show off to you just how great of a partner she really is, she’s happy. Besides, would you really pass up the opportunity to see her in either a beautiful gown or a fancy suit? Whichever she wears entirely depends on how she’s feeling that evening and how dominant of a person you are.

Laswell: Like Valeria, she’d prefer something fancy. Laswell can afford it these days, so she, too, would take you to a fancy restaurant before going somewhere else. I guess it would entirely depend on what you’re into. If you’re really into astronomy then you’ll go to a planetarium, if you’re really into marine biology then she’ll be taking you to the biggest aquarium nearby. Laswell is flexible like that, but she does prefer something where she can learn a thing or two as well, so she’d love it if you were into going to museums. Doesn’t matter what kind, it’s hard to gross her out with anything, or even bore her with whatever it is you’re into. As long as there’s a museum or an exhibition nearby you can be certain you’ll be going there at some point. However, if she has a few days off, then Laswell isn’t above flying somewhere with you either. A vacation with her is also her ideal version of a date. Just you and her spending time with each other, in the city, in the mountains, at the beach. Doesn’t matter where, Laswell has seen enough in this world, but she never gets to see any of it with you, which is a real shame in her eyes. Besides, she knows a lot of languages as well, so it’s not like you’ll ever have to actively worry about not being understood wherever it is you’re going, she’s got you covered. Laswell loves getting to see all sights with you, so you can be certain she’ll take a few pictures with you as well. Whether you’re doing a goofy pose in front of the tower of Pisa, looking tiny in front of the Sphinx, or absolutely beaming as you regard a temple in Kyoto, Laswell will treasure all of these moments in her entirety for as long as she can. The pictures are just an added bonus.

#cod #cod x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #alejandro vargas #alejandro vargas x reader #valeria garza #valeria garza x reader #kate laswell #kate laswell x reader #this reminded me of the fact that I haven't been on vacation in almost ten years #I went to Rome at some point when I was in high school #but that was roughly six years ago or so now #I wish I had someone who I could travel around with a bit I wanna see the world as well #Laswell would be the best person to go on vacation with #she knows a lot of the local customs and can speak to just about anyone. I like to think she too knows eight languages #maybe she knows even more than eight though who am I to say~#either way I just like the idea of going on vacation with her it would be lovely and relaxing since she can handle herself #you will not be robbed as long as she's with you I can assure you of that. you will be safe and sound with her #Laswell is a good woman like that. another reason why I like her as much as I do: She knows what she's doing #I can't say the same thing about myself haha

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shotmrmiller · 3 months

Note

cbf!Price?!?!

You mean your older brother's even older friend?

You'd been born in the US to an American mom and a British dad; but his job moved you all back across the pond. New country, new school, new people--it had been hell for you and your brother. But the family next door were so welcoming, especially their only kid, John.

Who always called you 'sunshine', gave you piggyback rides at rugby matches so you didn't get lost in the crowd, and never said "Hello" but, "There's my favorite girl".

The same cbf!Price who was your scary dog privilege when you fell in love with the underground punk scene and wanted to go to the sketchiest concerts.

When he'd enlisted, you'd cried for days, but couldn't bring yourself to tell him why you were so heartbroken, no matter how many times he asked, brows furrowed with concern. "Its only a couple months, luv, then I'll be on post just down the road. We'll still have our weekends."

And he kept that promise, as much as he could, even after you moved out of your parent's home to attend university.

It was forever on the tip of your tongue; the words you so desperately wanted to say, had to bite back, otherwise they'd destroy that precious friendship....

.... I can only imagine the myriad of unfortunate ways he might accidentally hear you whispering his name and those words....

with my brash personality, im fucking him the day he's to leave for basic. js.

no regrets around here.

ohmygod! imagine him being captain now, and he brings you to meet the boys.

Johnny whistles low the moment he lays eyes on you. "Steamin' Jesus, Captain. Tha' yer friend? She single?"

John does not answer him.

Kyle is kind, sweet, and courteous. Suspiciously so. It gives John flashbacks of how he acts towards women he wants to bed.

Right.

Simon's just his big, quiet self. He's intimidating, but you're not afraid—after all, you grew up with your bully older brother and John.

John notices his eyes gleam when you talk at him, yes, at, because Simon doesn't respond. But he listens. And he's been listening a little too intently, staring at your dainty hands gesture animatedly.

That's enough, he thinks.

"Time t'go home, love." You pout but wave goodbye at the boys and head towards his vehicle.

Johnny opens his mouth to speak but John quickly intervenes, that unless he wants to start fucking pushing, keep his thoughts to himself.

"I'll see you all at base tomorrow."

On the ride home, you tell him that they were all very nice. John's grip on the steering wheel tightens and says that as nice as they are, they go through women more than they do magazines.

"Oh." Did he imagine the disappointment laced in your voice?

"Do you?" What?

"I don't do it often."

"Oh." He turns his head to look at you, but you're staring out the window.

His heart races and elation thrums through his veins. You definitely sounded upset. John looks straight ahead and speeds up to take you home.

His home.

There's only you for him, and if you won't take the first step, then he will.

side note: what if he didn't return those feelings? christ id eat my fucking phone. im running away!!! no one look at me how embarrassing!!! his eyes soften, and he's like, "Oh. I'm so sorry, love. You and I practically grew up together."

That really stings. And then he brings his little girlfriend over to meet you and your brother, and you stiffly shake her hand and go to your room to cry.

Someone softly knocks on your door, and you don't move to open it, just yell at whoever is at the door to fuck off in a warbly voice. John's muffled I'm sorry deepens the crack in your heart.

"'S'alright, John. I'll be okay."

You did this to yourself, anyway.

The marriage invitation comes in the mail and you tear it to pieces.

Since you were young, you dreamt of being Mrs. Price, but now, that's all it'll ever be.

A childish dream.

#cbf!price #i need to write him more often!!!#hes so scrumptious!!!!

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parkersbliss · 2 years

Note

I'm so embarrassed but here it is! 😭 so there's y/n who is addicted to coffee flavored candies but doesn't like drinking coffee. which five finds very confusing. She's always offering five candy but ofc, five answers grumpily like "it's not the same thing as coffee"— and suddenly goes to a part where they kiss (idk how it leads to this omg) and five is absolutely ENAMORED with her lips bcs of all the coffee candy she eats..

is this too much explaining or what.. ANYWAYS THANK YOU FOR THIS I LOVE U LOTS <3

this… this is THE request. thank you for this 🙇‍♀️

Sweet Flavor | F. Hargreeves

pairing: five hargreeves x fem!reader

wc; 637

warnings: might make you blush lololol

synopsis: five refuses to try your favorite candy, so you make him

a/n: feeding yall today 🙄 you’re welcome! half way through s3 💪 also aged up five ofc!

requests: CLOSED

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt list

—

Five sighs, leaning on the table as you take a seat next to him.

“Really embracing the old man, huh?” You said, referring to his unusual outfit. Instead of the academy uniform, he’d opted for a vest, flannel, and fedora combination. You honestly wondered where he found it.

Five hums. “Yes, I am. It’s called retirement.”

You just laugh at him, unwrapping one of your Werther's caramel coffee candies. Five wrinkles his nose in disgust as you hand one towards him. “Want one?”

“I’d rather save the world again. Naked,” He sassily replied.

“I wouldn’t say that if I were you,” You tease, popping the candy into your mouth and sighing at this sweet-bitter flavor.

“Why don’t you just drink regular coffee?” He asked. “Like a sane person?”

“Because coffee is nasty,” You said, sticking your tongue out at him and displaying the small candy. “These are better.”

“They’re not even close to the same thing,” He grumbled.

You raise a brow at him. “And how would you know? You’ve never had one.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he dismisses, getting up and inspecting the hotel buffet. You follow after him, popping another candy in your mouth.

“So, what are you thinking of doing since you’re retired?”

Five grabs a cup and fills it with coffee. “I don’t know. Traveling? Isn’t that what people do nowadays?”

You scoff, “Yeah, people who don’t look barely eighteen.”

He swats at you, returning to your seats. “I’ll drive.”

He pours some syrup over his pancakes, and you pout. “If you like that much syrup, you’d love the candies just as much.”

“Coffee is supposed to taste bitter, not filled with artificial flavoring.”

“You don’t know till you try.”

“I do know, and I’m telling you now, that is shit,” He points at your mouth with his knife.

You frown, suckling on the candy and its sweet flavor. You were lucky to have found them back in 1963, and now you just kept a handful in your pocket at all times.

“You didn’t like me at first, and now…”

“That’s completely different,” He defends.

You laugh. “Really? Cause you’re a bitter old man, and I’m the sweetest person ever.”

“You are far from the sweetest person ever.”

“That’s not the point, Five,” You huff.

He smiles at you. “Isn’t it, darling?”

“Just try one,” You urged, tossing the wrapped candy at his face. “Please.”

"Try a cup of coffee, and I’ll consider it.”

“I have tried a cup of coffee.”

“When?”

You roll your eyes. “Prior to when we met.”

“Then, I tried your coffee-flavored candy… prior to when we met.”

You glare at Five, and he just smirks, taking a bite of his pancakes.

“Please,” You beg.

“No.”

“But—”

“No.”

“They’re—”

“No.”

“Five.”

“No.”

You click your tongue, still rolling the candy in your mouth when a thought occurs to you. Five notices the mischievous look on your face, and his eyebrows furrow together.

“(Y/N)—”

He’s cut off when you grab the back of his neck and smash your lips together. His hands fly to cup your cheeks as the taste of the candy invades his mouth. And holy shit, he loves it. His lips press harder against yours, almost making you fall off the seat as he chases the flavor.

And then, before you know it, he slips his tongue in and relishes the sweet flavor. His tongue explores every inch of your mouth, trying to seek the sugary treat he so desires. You let out a quiet whine, brain fuzzy at the action. Five groans as you tug on his hair, tongue invading your mouth, and then he pulls back.

You’re stunned, blinking as your lips smack together. And then you notice something missing and gasp.

Five grins, sticking his tongue to display your coffee-flavored caramel proudly on his tongue.

“You little—”

— END —

🏷 five taglist: @clearbasementvoid @halfumbrella @esmedith

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thestarrynightslover · 8 months

Text

Second Time Is the Charm

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 1,211

Warnings: None, just fluff.

Summary: Jay meets the Reader, Hailey's best friend, when she's meeting Molly's for the first time after having moved back to Chicago.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way, or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: Still not in my best writing but I hope you like it!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| mastelist |

"Hey, guys! This is my best friend, (y/n) (y/l/n), who I told you about! She just moved to the city a few weeks ago, so, be nice!" You heard your long-time friend, Hailey, warn her coworkers, who she always swore by to be some of the very best people in Chicago.

"Whatcha sayin', Detective Upton? I'm always nice!" a tall guy, who you recognized as being the one Hailey'd had a fling with some time ago, exclaimed, feigning offense.

They all are very sympathetic to you and you can see how they managed to get Hailey's friendship so easily. But there is one person who stands out from the rest of the group. And you just can't help yourself but to stare at the handsome guy who Hailey said is her partner. The famous Jay Halstead. You do know that it's impolite to basically ogle him like that but you. Just. Can't. Stop. He might just be the most beautiful man you've ever seen and that's saying a lot since you'd already lived in many places and had already met lots of hot guys.

Maybe you were dreaming or something but it seemed like he, too, was taking a few glances at you. But you must've been imagining 'cause he never made a single move your way — not that you were dealing any better with this sort of crush.

The hours ticked by faster than anyone there would've imagined with all the friendly chit-chat and the stories being told but, when you noticed the time, you decided it was time to go home, so you announced: "Hey, guys, thanks a lot for tonight! It was really nice meeting you all, I had a blast! But now I think I'mma head home."

"What? No! I can drive you there later," Adam started but you cut him off:

"No need for that, really. I live nearby and the walk home is gonna be good for me!"

"But going alone this time of night…" Kevin trailed off.

"Well I was thinking about heading home too and I'm also gonna walk. So maybe we can go together?" Jay asked, speaking directly to you for the first time in the whole night.

Not really knowing how to politely decline that one, you accepted: "Oh, um, okay, that'd be nice."

"It's really nice of yours to offer to walk me home, Jay. Thank you again." You said in an attempt to break the ice.

"Yeah, no problem. You know I like making myself available for the community!" He said with a wink? Was Hailey's partner seriously trying to flirt with you? "So, back at Molly's everyone explored a lot why you came back to Chicago but I wanna know what made you leave it in the first place, 'cause you went to college here, with Hailey, right?"

"Uh… yeah, we were roommates, actually. But I left for many reasons, the main one being a wish to see what the world had to offer. Which wasn't very hard since I can easily get a job pretty much anywhere I want…" You answered, leaving out the part about how your ex had humiliated you into leaving the city just to put as much distance between the two of you as possible.

"Hmmm, I see. But you said work had you moving back?"

"Yeah, well this was an exception because I was being offered a better position in case I came here." And because now you'd already gotten over what happened with your ex.

"Then which one is your favorite city so far?" There he got you, you always had a hard time picking favorites…

"Hmmm, maybe Amsterdam?" You thought that it would be a smooth way to do some flirting of your own. "It can be a very romantic city…" You started, "and I've always seen myself as a romantic, hopeless or not…"

"Oh, is that right?" The detective asked.

"Yeah, well, what can I say if everything romance just makes me happy?" You said, looking up brightly at him. Before he could muster up an answer though, you realized where you were, "Oh, that's my building right there!" You exclaimed pointing at the building across the street. But just as you said it you found yourself being sweetly and longingly kissed by Jay, which caught you completely off guard.

"So…" You started without really knowing how to continue after the kiss.

"So…" He imitated while nervously scratching the back of his neck. "I guess it was a bit awkward to just kiss you like that-"

"No! I, uh, I liked it!" Gosh, you sounded like a teenager, " I mean it wasn't bad or anything."

"Then maybe you'd be okay with giving me your number?" He asked.

"Yeah, sure!" Once again, teenager, dammit! "I, uh, what I mean is that I wouldn't mind it if you wanted to call me sometime, detective. You know, just making myself available for the community." You repeated his previous words with a wink.

"Huh! Careful with those empty promises, ma'am," Jay said playfully.

"Who said anything about empty?" You countered.

"Okay, then… Just know that you might be getting a call from me sooner rather than later." He half confessed while shaking his head.

"Looking forward to it!" You shot back and turned around to walk towards your building. Just as you were about to take the first step though, you decided to take a last glance at him, saying: "Have a good night, detective." He didn't answer, you didn't give him time to. But, as you were almost at the building's door, you heard your phone starting to ring and decided to pick up, since it wasn't very common for you to get calls at that time of night. "Hello?"

"Hi, uh, is this (y/n) (y/l/n)'s phone?" You heard Jay's amused voice on the other end of the line and instantly turned back around to see him, still standing on the other side of the street, purposely in your eyesight.

"Really?"

"You said to call at any time-"

"Hmmm…"

"And I just couldn't wait!"

"Are you making fun of me right now?"

"Not at all!" He quickly responded. "I am, actually, inviting you to grab coffee with me one of these days." At that, your heart started beating faster and you could only hope that he wasn't able to hear it through the phone. "Or, you know, lunch, dinner, whatever you prefer!"

"I, uh, I would love to, Jay." Was all you could answer, as the flirty banter suddenly seemed pointless. "I would love to grab coffee or lunch or dinner with you sometime!"

"Okay. That's, uh, that's great! So, maybe this Saturday? 9 o'clock?"

"Yeah, sure! That sounds good! Just let me know where you wanna me-"

"Nope, nuh-uh, that's not happening! Just be ready by then and prepare yourself to be surprised!"

"Jay, I-"

"Not taking no for an answer! Goodnight to you too, (y/n)." He said and hung up, waving at you as he continued his path. Meanwhile, you went upstairs thinking about Saturday and about how you'd snatched a guy like that on your third day back in the city. Maybe Chicago wasn't as bad as you remembered it anymore...

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 7 days

Text

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 15: What Do You Know About Love?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy. This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter fifteen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 6.5K (I got carried away again)

Warnings: References to sex, Cursing, Angst, Crying, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

Note: This is told from the Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

**************************************

Present Day *Reader POV*

The shopping bags that hung from your arms would have been heavy for the average person, but for you it seemed like a bag full of pillows. It was the day after you saw Rosemary and said goodbye. Despite the almost excruciating hangover you had this morning, because it'd been almost forty years since you last had a drink, you dragged yourself to the mall to try and find outfits for your trip to Russia. You were satisfied with the few outfits you found, but you were worried because the plane left in a few hours and you were no where near ready.

Mentally or physically.

As much as you wanted to go help Ben, you still were apprehensive about the whole situation, not just about going in blind, but wondering what the hell you were going to do when you saw Ben. You wanted to hold on to your anger, but you were afraid that the moment you looked into his green eyes you would forgive him.

I am not going to forgive him. I'm going to break him out then tell him to fuck off and I never have to see him ever again.

Despite your apprehension, you knew that you had to do this, that you had to go help him even if you still hated him because you couldn't bear the thought of the boy you grew up with being tortured over there all alone. It was the alone part that hurt the most. You knew how much Ben hated being alone. He never had to say it out loud, but all the time you'd spent together in your bedroom before and after the injection spoke volumes.

Of course you still had no idea where you were going, but figured that if you went to the Kremlin you could get some answers, which meant you'd either have to lie your way in or just kill anyone in your path. Which would be messy, but necessary. You try to shake off the guilt of exposing yourself again and what that could mean for Rosemary and Lou. You made sure that Rosemary knew to pack a bag for herself and for Lou and told her to wait for your call.

You wanted to be there to escort them out of the city, didn't want to split up and have them get snagged while you were waiting for them at the rendezvous point, so you told Rosemary to take a few days off and lay low.

When you get to the outside door of your apartment building toting the bags, you notice that it's been broken, as if someone tried to pull it off its hinges.

Well that's great. Hopefully the building manager noticed that.

Your mind drifts back to Ben as you step into the elevator.

What if he isn't alive when I get there? It was an unwelcome thought, but it meant that you wouldn't have to talk to him.

Maybe if I knock him out when I get there and just leave him in a Russian motel somewhere, I won't have to talk to him. You pause. Will he want to talk to me?

The memory of the last time you spoke flashes through your mind bringing an unmeasurable amount of rage and heartbreak back over your body. The dam you built to keep out everything that happened was reaching capacity, especially given the recent events with Countess, and you knew that the moment you saw Ben it was going to burst open. You hoped that you'd be able to keep it together long enough to get out of the lab or wherever the hell he was being held, before you lost it. But it was doubtful.

As you walk down the hallway to you apartment, you notice that your front door is open and you stop walking. Apprehension spikes at the back of your mind as you examine the door. The lock is broken and door is cracked just enough for you to hear people talking inside in hushed tones. You creep forward and look through the crack.

You've got to be kidding me. You groan to yourself noticing Butcher and Hughie standing in your living room.

Great. Just what I need. Right when I'm going to leave they show up. Guess that explains the mystery of the broken door downstairs.

You think about walking away, of going back down the elevator and hoping that by the time you come back they would be gone, but you knew you had to face them and you still had to pack. So you push open the front door of your apartment and step into the room.

"You know when I called saying that I had something else to say about Soldier Boy, I assumed you would call, not break into my apartment." You sigh before moving to the right side of the counter that divides the room between the living room and the kitchen and depositing the shopping bags on the stainless steel top.

"Maybe you shouldn’t leave your apartment unlocked poppet. Anyone could walk in." Butcher replies with a grin.

"Hmm. Sure. You guys here for more coffee?"

"Go shopping did you?" Butcher ignores your snark eyeing the bags.

"Yeah I needed a few new outfits for my art show next month." The lie is easy, but you know that the sudden appearance of the two of them probably meant you were caught red handed. Of course now with everything that happened with Countess, you didn't care anymore if Butcher and Hughie knew who you really were. "You doing okay there Hughie?" You raise an eyebrow as you notice how his heartbeat has spiked since you entered the apartment.

"Good." He says, but he looks uneasy.

Well, guess he's afraid of me now.

"Huh. And here I thought you were replacing your jacket." Butcher throws your ruined jacket onto the floor between you.

You look from the jacket to Butcher. You hadn't bought a replacement and hadn't wanted to throw it out. You were still hoping that the scorch marks looked like you had "distressed" it. It didn't and you knew that, but you loved that coat so much.

"See, I think it’s a big coincidence that Countess got right fucked after we came and talked to you." Butcher smiles.

"Probably the same coincidence as Gunpowder dying before you showed up here the first time." You breeze with a tight-lipped smile.

Where was he going with this? Was he here to kill me? You think about what Legend said about Butcher killing supes.

"That looks bad." Butcher gestures to the jacket. "You have a little spat with your good friend?”

"Let's just say she said a few things that upset me." Your eyes skate from Butcher to Hughie sizing them up. "If you're here to kill me, you're welcome to try. Oh sorry, 'arrest me'." You make air quotes around the words. "But we both know you're not government agents, you reek of Compound V and the last time I checked there was that whole, no supes in the government thing."

"Wouldn't it have been easier to get this out of the way the first time?" Hughie asks.

"I didn't want to be involved." You shrug your shoulders.

"Then why you'd buy a plane ticket to Russia?" Butcher takes a step towards you, but you hold your ground.

You weren't afraid of him.

"I hear it's nice this time of year. Not too hot, not too cold. Very pleasant." You snap back at him eyes narrowed, before you look down at the antique watch on your wrist. "Look I'd love to have a heart to heart, but I just don't have time to do this little dance with you. So we can either get to the part where you try to kill me or-" You raise your gaze from the watch to glare back at Butcher, but then your eyes focus on the hallway behind him and your heart stops.

Ben is standing there in the shadows looking at you the same way he always has, with those wonderful piercing green eyes that makes all other memories of them be put to shame. He's dressed in modern clothes, wearing a dark green shirt that hugs his perfect muscular chest and is the same color of his suit, your favorite color and the one you can never look at without thinking of him because damn it, it's also the color of his eyes. He looks the same, but different. His hair is longer and darker than it was the last time you saw him and his cheeks are covered by a trimmed but thick beard. It was unusual given that you'd never seen him with more than just a little bit of stubble and annoying because it makes him look even more ruggedly handsome, but despite the piercing way his eyes follow you, you can see a haunting memory of the last forty years.

You're upset that the one of the first thoughts you'd had beside staring at him open mouthed is that you wished you were wearing something more flattering than one of your pairs of paint splattered overalls over an old band t-shirt. You were going to Russia to get him and yes maybe you were shopping for things that you could move in, but you had picked out a particular revenge outfit that you believed would make Ben regret everything he did to you and also might have been paired with a particularly badass set of boots that made your legs look very long. The outfit that made you feel beautiful and sexy was unlike the one you were wearing at the moment. Also because you hadn't brushed your hair today and had just stuck it up in a messy bun at the back of your head.

You're struck with the urge to run to him and kill him at the same time, but you can't move and you can’t think.

Apart of you believed that you would find him dead in Russia, a sad thought but it meant that you wouldn't have to relive everything all over again. Everything that went to shit the last 24 hours you spent together that you relived with Countess the other day and now you were reliving when you looked at him standing there looking better than he should.

Because damn it, only Ben could be tortured in a lab for the past 40 years and walk away looking like a GQ model. I've never hated anyone more.

"Ben?" Your voice is no more than a hoarse whisper.

Ben pushes past Hughie and Butcher, taking careful steps towards you like he doesn't want to scare you away. "Y/n." The sound of your name on his lips fills you with an inescapable amount of warmth.

Traitor. You think to yourself at your body’s reaction.

He's standing so close to you now that you can smell the same shampoo and aftershave he always used and it brings back memories of the nights he spent in your bed with you laughing and talking like nothing had changed making you feel alive again for the first time in forty years. Before everything went into the blender set to puree.

Ben's eyes trace your body like he can't believe you're standing in front of him making you wish again that you're wearing the outfit you picked out so that you could look as good as he does. And just as he raises his hand towards your face you remember why you hated him, remember that night, remember what Countess said that caused her to lose her head.

Your hand flashes out so quick you don't think Ben notices it until it lands with a resounding slap against his cheek that sends him reeling back from you. Your strengths were similar, almost identical, and if he hadn't been invulnerable it would have ripped his perfect jaw from his face.

"What the fuck was that for?" Ben snaps, green eyes blazing as he looks back at you.

"You've got some nerve coming back here after all these years." You spit, the anger rising in your chest with wings of fury that beat against your ribcage. "Did you really think that you could just say my name again and make me forget everything that happened Benjamin? I am not one of those trashy women that you used to fuck and the fact that you think you can show up here, give me the fucking puppy dog eyes, and think that I’ll swoon, is ridiculous!”

There goes the dam.

Your gaze levels on Hughie and Butcher who look just as stunned. "And you two. Why did you bring him here? I didn’t want any part of this!”

"Why did you pretend to be dead!" Hughie shouts back.

"Did you think that maybe that was me trying to tell you that I didn't want to be involved? Or are you two just that fucking stupid?"

"Why did you buy a plane ticket then?" Butcher asks again, raising an eyebrow.

Ben is watching you with anger burning in his eyes. It's difficult for you to look at him. Every time you do you think about your last night together, the morning after when he pushed you away, and finally the night where he ripped out your heart and stomped all over it.

How did I ever think I could look at him again when I got him out of Russia?

"Because even though I hate him. He doesn't deserve that. The Ben I knew would have come to get me, and I wasn't going to leave him to rot in some fucking Russian prison." You snap back. "Now get out of my apartment."

"Sweetheart-" Ben begins to say.

"No. No. No. I don't want to hear it from you. Nothing you can say can make this better. I’m glad you’re free or whatever, but go. Get out." You push past him, but Ben's hand flashes out and grabs your wrist with enough force that you feel the bruising of your skin.

"No." He towers over you.

"Let. Me. Go." Your eyes narrow shifting to bright purple. The entire room begins to tremble, the glass windows shake in their panes and the glass jars full of paint brushes on your studio table begin to clink against one another. But he doesn't remove his hand.

"Not until you listen." Ben's own green eyes have hardened into a emerald.

You latch onto the wrist that is holding you and break his grip, before spinning and throwing him backward across the room away from you. Ben's body flies past Hughie and Butcher who watch with wide eyes as he hits the back of the couch and pinwheels over it with a loud thud as he lands on the cushions. You would have rather thrown him into the brick living room wall, but you restrained yourself.

"I don't want to hear anything you have to say Benjamin. You said enough that night and apparently you were saying lots of things to Countess about me. So get out." Your eyes skate across Butcher and Hughie. "All of you."

Hughie is still watching you with wide eyes, like he can't believe that just happened.

Join the club kid.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Ben shouts, standing from the couch and straightening his clothes. You don't need to be a psychic to know how angry he is. In fact, you're surprised he's not throwing you out the window or at least throwing a punch. Ben didn't tolerate it when anyone put him in his place and it definitely looks like it's taking him an extreme amount of effort not to attack you, given the way his hands are clenched into fists and the way his jaw is tensed so tightly you can see the muscle flexing.

"She told me what you said about me. That you threw me a pity fuck because you felt sorry for me, that you were bored when we had sex because I was so inexperienced."

"It's not true."

"Isn’t it?" You're trying desperately not to cry, but the angry tears have already begun to well up in your eyes. "The last thing you sad to me was that I was pathetic and that you never would love me, never could love me. That you fucked me because you felt bad for me and you wished I would just fuck off. That I was just another warm pussy and that I meant nothing to you. So forgive me for not believing you."

"Oh shit." Butcher mutters under his breath.

"Damn." Hughie echoes.

"I know what I said to you, Y/n. I've spent the past 40 years regretting it-" Ben begins to say, but you interrupt him.

"Oh I'm so sure. The Great Soldier Boy actually has a conscience, let me just alert the media." You spit back. "Oh wait, sorry you wouldn't want that getting out would you Ben? Because that would mean you aren't a man."

"Y/n-" He growls.

"You don't get to come in here and apologize and act like you did nothing wrong. You're not here because you feel sorry, you're here because you want me to dote on you, to follow you around and give a shit like I did for 40 fucking years.”

“Y/n-“

"Stop saying my name like that!" You shout and the glass sugar dish on the counter flies off the counter and smashes into the floor sending shards of glass everywhere.

Hughie flinches.

"Like what?" Ben exclaims.

"Like you care." You cross your arms over your chest staring him down because you don't want to keep crying.

"I do fucking care about you-" Ben snaps running his hand through his dark hair frustrated.

"No you don't. You never did. You’ve made that perfectly clear.”

"Yes I do."

"Please stop talking."

"What else do you want me to say?" Ben shouts back, moving towards you. "I'm trying to fucking apologize-"

"I don't want you to say anything and I don't want to hear your half-assed apology! I want you to leave. You and your creepy friends." You gesture back to where Hughie and Butcher are watching with open mouths, who are unsure if they should leave or watch the show.

"They're not my friends."

"And neither am I! Which means I don’t have to listen to anything you have to say!”

"Y/n please-" His teeth are gritted together.

“I'm not some fangirl Ben. I was your friend, your friend before any of this. Before any of this fucking supe shit. I cared about you. I had been in love with you since I was 8. I had taken care of you since the night we met." More tears squeeze down your cheeks as a lifetime of happy memories before everything went down the drain wash over you. The wonderful times you'd shared together at the park, in your bedroom back in Philadelphia, dancing in the dancehall, at baseball games and Ben walking you home all the while you wobbled down the street drunkenly and sang off key. All the blissful little moments that you thought maybe he felt the same way about you and then followed by the moments you spent together the night of your birthday, when you felt more special and loved than you'd ever had. It makes the knife he stuck in your back even sharper.

"That night we spent together meant everything to me. I thought it was special and I thought you loved me. But you don't. You just fucked me because you were bored and you found the first person who said yes.” Your body turns away, but he grabs you by the shoulders to make you look at him.

"I do love you damnit!" He shouts. "I didn't want to-" Ben's jaw clenches in frustration, looking back at Butcher and Hughie. "Can you two just fuck off?"

"I wish you all would." You say, trying to loosen his grip on your shoulders, but he doesn't let go. You think about throwing him across the room again, because it made you feel a lot better.

"Fine. We'll be outside." Butcher says tugging Hughie away.

"Are you sure?" Hughie asks looking from you to Ben as if he's worried to leave the two of you alone.

"You want to be here? Because they're either going to kill each other or start fucking." Butcher responds.

"We are not going to start-" You begin, but they're already out the front door of your apartment leaving you alone with Ben, who is still holding on to your shoulders.

"Please listen to me." Ben says looking deep into your eyes. "When you said that you loved me it-" He stops looking for the right word as if he can't say the next ones that come out of his mouth. "Oh fuck it, it fucking scared me. Okay? It scared me, Y/n, and damnit I'm not a pussy! I'm not afraid of anything!"

“Oh no you could never be a pussy could you? Soldier Boy could never admit that he had real feelings for someone.” Your voice wobbles, tears trailing down your cheeks as you poke him in the chest to emphasize every word. “And now you’re just saying what I want to hear, because you want to have another quick fuck!” You push your hands against his chest trying to push him off of you, but he won't let go. "You're just saying it because its been forty years since you had sex and you thought, huh might as well find the most pathetic person I know, Y/n won't say no if I pretend to be everything she wanted again."

He doesn't mean it. He doesn't love me.

"I’m not lying to you! And I’m not pretending! I wasn't pretending that night either!” Ben roars so loudly you flinch. “That night I felt things with you that I had never felt with anyone else. It wasn't cheap sex or a quick fuck-" His jaw tightens as if he's embarrassed to admit it. "Damn it.” His teeth are gritted together. “We made love. I understood that when I woke up the next morning and I was happy to be there with you. I knew that I loved you and I wanted to tell you, but I fucked it all up instead. I fucked Countess because I was scared of what loving you meant. But I’m ready now, I’m not scared anymore. I love you!”

He's saying everything you always wanted him to, but you're scared. Scared that he's just saying it, that he thinks it's what you want to hear and this is the only way that he can get you back into his life because he needs someone to follow him around, because he can't be alone.

You stand there for a minute taking in his stance. His head is slightly bowed in shame, shoulders tight, body leaning towards you. But then you catch his eye, you see the sorrow, frustration, and pain in his gaze. Ben was not big on sharing feelings and for him to admit all of these things aloud was shocking enough without the obvious emotions flashing in his eyes. It was so different than the stoic or pissed off attitude he usually had when he was Soldier Boy. The look in his eyes is so earnest and Ben has never been a good liar, not to you anyway. You always knew what he was thinking.

If I forgive him then what does that mean? I forget the past 40 years like they never happened? I forget all the tears when he broke my heart? Forget how broken I was? How broken I still am?

You think of all the times you missed him, all the times you forgot about what he said to you and remembered the good, all the times you wanted him there with you and Rosemary because you knew he would love to be there. All the early memories together, all the missions, everything that lead up to the falling out and Ben’s supposed death. Ben's admission of guilt and his confession of love for you was shocking. Especially because the Ben you knew 40 years ago would have rather dropped dead than say the words "make love."

No. I won't give in. I can't do this, I can't do this all over again. I was better, I was moving on, he doesn't have the right to come here and mess up my life all over again.

"No." You shout, shoving him away with all your strength. Ben stumbles backward, his eyes wide as if he wasn't expecting you to push him away, because of course he wasn't. “You don’t know anything about love. You’re just saying that because you know it’s what I want to hear, what I’ve always wanted you to say to me.”

He still doesn't understand how much he hurt me. And he doesn't deserve my forgiveness.

“I’m not just saying that, it’s true. Please y/n-“

"I don't believe you. And when I said I never wanted to see you ever again I wasn't lying. So get out Ben!" You shout.

"No. I love you and I'm not leaving." Ben says back determined.

You weren't prepared for what those words did to you. You weren't prepared for the floodgate of emotions that exploded the moment those words passed through his lips or the way it felt like you were being tugged in two different directions. Because despite wanting to throw him across the room again, those three little words made you want to run into his arms and hold him close, made you want him to take you to bed and make you forget all the shitty things that happened forty years ago, make it like he never left.

But you couldn't do it. As much as you wanted to forgive him, you couldn't because you didn't trust him anymore, you didn't trust that he could give you what you wanted.

“Too bad! I won’t do this to myself again. All I did was care about you, help you. I stood by you and made excuses for the person you became and I held on to this picture of the boy you used to be. The one I fell in love with. The one that used to climb in my window when things were hard. The one that took me to my first baseball game. The one who danced with me. The one that made me feel like less of a freak because he understood me. And the one that begged me to leave Howard and everything I knew and come with him. That night we were together I saw that boy again. I loved that boy. I would have done anything for him and I did. But he’s not here anymore. And I hate myself for holding on to him as long as I did.”

"But I told you I loved you!" Ben exclaims.

“Just saying that isn’t enough, not after everything that happened!” You shout. "You're forty years too late Benjamin. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m exhausted and I’m going to go to bed. And I don’t want you to be here when I wake up.”

"Y/n please-" You hate how he sounds when he says it, like he's broken, because Ben has never once sounded that way in all the years you'd known him. You hate how he looks. How his dark hair is falling forward into his face and he looks so much like the boy you used to love that it makes you want to scream, because you wanted to believe that he was gone, but all you see when you look up at him is that boy. There is not one shred of Soldier Boy in the way he looks right now and you hate that. You hate that you wanted to forgive him, that all it took was him looking like at you like that. But you still can't do it.

"Just go." Your throat thickening as you say it, fresh tears trailing down your cheeks. "I don't want you here. I never want you to come here ever. I never want to see you again.” You lie pushing past him and walk down the dark hallway, slamming and locking your bedroom door behind you. Your body sinks to the floor as you pull your knees up into your chest, sobs shaking your body and tears pour from your eyes.

How many tears can I spend on one man? How do I still have any left after all these years? How could I have been stupid to think that I was over him? That I could just go to Russia, break him out, and then push him out of my life so easily? None of what just happened was easy.

Your face presses into your knees. You want to call Rosemary, call her and tell her what happened, but your phone is still on the counter and you couldn't go back out there, because you knew he was still there. Standing in your living room looking too perfect after all these years and saying all the things you always wanted him to and you don’t want to go out there and forgive him.

So you stay. Your back pressed against the door, crying into your knees and hoping that this will just all end.

Because it’s got to one day right?

***************************************************

*Soldier Boy POV*

He hadn't meant to reach for you, but all he wanted was to feel the gentle swell of your cheek beneath the palm of his hand, the smoothness of your skin against his rough fingertips, and to memorize the planes of your face with his touch. You were even more beautiful than he remembered. Your curves perfectly accentuated by a pair of cute paint splattered overalls that made him smile, and your hair pulled away from your face in a messy bun but still made you look effortless and striking. When he saw you standing there, it was like taking a punch to the gut. He knew that he missed you, but seeing you there warm and alive made him want to crush you against his chest and never let you go ever again.

He had laid himself bare before you, allowing himself to push through the urge to shove all his emotions back beneath the surface as his father taught him, and spoke, instead, the words he wished that he had said all those years ago.

Ben's shoulders tense when he thinks of what you shouted back at him, how broken you looked. His heart falls into the pit of his stomach when he remembers the tears in your eyes. Ben hated it when you cried. He also hated that the first time he saw you in forty years he made you cry, again.

He didn't know how to fix this. Ben thought that his apology would be enough to make you at least try to forgive him, but it hadn't. You had shoved him away from you, refused to let him touch you or comfort you-

Why is she so damn stubborn? I apologized! I told her that I loved her! Isn’t that what she wanted?

He grits his teeth together thinking about how you threw him across the room like he weighed nothing. If anyone else had done that to him, Ben would have killed them, but he knew that he deserved it. He knew you would be mad, but he thought that you would at least want to hear everything he had to say instead of cursing him out and slamming the door in his face.

When you slammed your door behind you, he had stood outside of it for an hour listening to you cry, heard your soft muffled sobs. At one point he leaned his head against the door and wished you would let him in so he could hold you while you cried, even though the thought made him feel like a pussy. He wanted to comfort you. He wished you had forgiven him, allowed him to take you to bed, allowed him to show you how sorry he was and how much he loved you. He wished that you let him help you forget the last shitty forty years that you spent without him, forget what he said and what he did to you that night.

The harsh words you yelled at him make him flinch, when you told him that you didn't want him there and never wanted him to come back. They were the words that he always feared you would say to him when he climbed in through your window at night or when he showed up at your apartment when you were still on Payback. And hearing you say those words felt worse than anything those Russian fucks did to him. Because Ben didn't know where he belonged if he wasn't with you, he didn't know what to do if you weren't in his life, you were the only thing that mattered.

How could I fuck this up this much?

Ben looks back at the clock on the wall in the kitchen which shows he'd been there for three hours waiting for you to come out of your room, but you hadn't. He knew it was because you fell asleep, he could hear your heart beat, your soft breath against the pillows, and the almost silent sounds you made when you slept. They were exactly the same as when he would fall asleep next to you and damn it he didn't realize how much he missed them until this exact moment.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. How do I fucking fix this?

Ben stands from the couch and walks down the hallway for the millionth time to stand outside your door preparing to knock, but he didn't know what to say. He thought that he'd said enough, but judging by your reaction he hadn't.

The thought of saying anything else was difficult for him to swallow. It was hard enough to say what he had to you, but he was realizing he was going to have to delve even deeper to make you even look at him again or want to be around him.

Finally he goes to the front door of your apartment before he looks back down the hallway. He didn't want to leave, didn't want you to wake up and him not be there despite what you said about wanting him to leave. He wanted you to understand that he wasn't going anywhere and that he was never going to leave you ever again no matter how hard you tried to push him away. But he needed to leave now, not for long, just long enough for him to get what he needed.

He had seen the florist shop on the corner when Butcher drove up. As Ben walked down the street in the direction of the florist he remembered the conversation he had with Butcher after you slammed your door in his face. Convincing Butcher to let him remain in the apartment was difficult, but finally when Ben threatened to rip Hughie in half, Butcher relented stating that he would give Ben one night with you before he came back. That was the deal anyway, Ben had lied, because like hell he was going to leave now that he'd found you again.

Ben wasn't planning on leaving and even if you couldn't stand to look at him, Ben would not go. Even if it meant sleeping on that shitty couch every night.

He would never leave you again.

The smell of the flowers wafted out of the small shop when Ben opens the door, his eyes skating across the numerous bouquets, each one more extravagant than the last. Other women would swoon over them, but not you. His eyes fall first on roses, but he turns away. He knew that you didn’t like roses, although many believed them to be classic, Ben knew that you thought over the years that roses had become generic and overused. He of course had sent some to numerous women over the years, but he liked that you were different. He always liked that about you. He rolls his eyes when he remembered when Howard bought you some every week.

Because of course that asshole didn’t know what y/n liked. No one knows her as well as me.

The man behind the counter eyes him when he walks in. "Can I help you find something sir?"

"No." Ben says gruffy looking at the displays again, but then he sighs. "Do you have any lavender?"

"Lavender?"

"Yeah." Ben knew it was the only thing that you would accept, knew that it was your favorite because it reminded you of the house your family rented over the summers up North. Ben hated those summers. He'd break into your bedroom and sleep in your bed while thinking of you and reading the letters you sent him over and over again, the ones that you pressed fresh lavender into and the ones that made him realize just how much he needed you.

Those of course weren’t the only letters you ever sent him. When he went to boarding school he’d wait for you to send him a letter and one of your doodles or a small painting. He kept every one in a cigar box under his bed. It was why he was kicked out of boarding school number nine, a fight he had with another student began because the student had found the box and then proceeded to mock Ben endlessly by passing around the letters you sent him. Ben had never told you what the fight was about.

Ben stops as he realizes how he’s going to get you to listen to him.

“Here you are sir.” The florist reappears at the counter holding a large vase of freshly cut lavender.

“Do you have a phone I can borrow?” Ben asks.

“Sure.”

The object the man hands him is not a phone, well not a phone that Ben’s ever seen before.

“I said a phone-“

“That is a phone?” The man looks confused.

“How do I fucking call someone with this?” Ben sighs shaking the black rectangle in his hand and looking for the buttons.

The man takes the object and swipes his fingers across it before handing it back to him so Ben can see the numbers to dial. “Just push what you want and hit the green button.” The man says, looking at Ben like he's crazy.

“Oh. Thanks.” He mutters, before dialing the number and holding the phone up to his ear.

Legend answers on the first ring.

“Hey it’s me. Do you still have all my old shit from my apartment?”

“Somewhere.”

“I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”

******************************************

N/A: Why not end on a cliffhanger? This chapter is a bit longer, because this week is CRAZY for me and I'm not sure when I'll be able to write the next chapter. But I'm not giving up on these two. They deserve the world.

Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you guys think. If you'd like to be added to my taglist, please let me know :)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303 @deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs @bughill126 @simplyfixated @sleepjam @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts @onlyangel-444 @lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress @my-obsession-spn @lifeonawhim @soldirboy @liuope @brynanna @abramswife @xxannyxx @babyinatrench-coat1 @the-gentle-spirit

#soldier boy x you #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x female reader #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy #soldier boy/ben #the boys #jensen ackles #soldier boy fic #billy butcher #the boys amazon #hughie campbell #the boys fanfic #jackles #the boys season 3 #the boys series #the boys tv #the boys s3

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nescaveckwriter · 1 month

Text

Lighthouse

A/N: 🐞... Okayz my dearest love bugs, 💕 another one done for @jacklesversebingo 🥰 yayaness, I know its been a while though, But I hope y'all are gonna enjoy this one, I must say I'm super proud and, a little terrified as this is 'Supernatural' based 🫣🤭, so let me know what y'all think.🥰 Okayz much love🥰❤️🩷

Warnings: *18+ Only* Horror, Thriller, Mentions of blood, violence, angsty, little fluff, heartbreaking, drama.

Line: Tree, Clock, Rope

Characters: Dean x Fem Reader, Sam, Benny, Cas, Crowley

Words: 6700 😱🫣 I know I'm sorry.

Cover & Pictures: Pinterest, Canva, Google

Side Note: Please check out my Masterlist for more, epic stories🐞💕

The sky has turned into grey, dark clouds threatening too cover the earth with its darkness, the smell of rain is everywhere as it nourishes the earth, as you stand under the pouring rain, listening too him say, goodbye, letting the rain mix with the tears on your cheeks. Not being able too move a muscle, you just stood there unable to make a single sound, unable to ask him why, why after this long, did he want to break up with you, did he want to throw away the life you built. Weren't you enough for him no more,? Is there someone else? Why Now?

The way he said goodbye wasn't with a voice filled with anger, no, his emerald green eyes was sad, his voice almost breaking when he said "I need too let you go sweetheart" and his lips found yours instinctively, it was a soft, kiss, mixed with the taste of him, salt and rain. You didn't want him too leave, you wanted to grab ahold of him, and beg him too stay, but before you could, he got in that Chevy Impala, the engine roared and the tires screeched, as he drove off into the darkness, not a single star in the sky, its almost as if the magic of the moonlight left with him.

Its been a little over three months since he left you standing in the rain, like some dumb country song, but you somehow found a way too move through your everyday life, you were a hunter before you met Dean, and you still are, well in all honesty saving people is the only thing that got you through the days.

It isn't really a job you tell everyone about, oh heck no!, its more a work you keep too yourself, letting your family believe, your just a traveling failure, well you always did kind of feel like you lost your way over the years, but these days your numb. Your best friend Sam doesn't even talk too you anymore, you don't really have a lot of folks who you could call, and say "hey, ya know I'm not really doing well, I need a pick me up or a damn hug" no you always kept too yourself, not trusting anyone, but the day you met Dean and Sam on a hunt it changed.! Sam quickly became your best friend and well Dean soon became the only man you'll ever love, even though he had his issues. And then there was Castiel the angel, he has always felt like a beacon of hope, making you laugh with his "I don't understand that reference" sayings. But the day Dean walked out they all left, leaving you completely alone in this damn scary world. It's not the monsters that scares you, no that you get, but it's the people. Every single person you have met in your life has a hidden agenda, why can't they just be good people.

Sitting at the diner in the small town, were you were investigating strange disappearances, ordering a black coffee, the display with the different pies catching your eye. Your mind wanders off to Dean's birthday... You prepared all his favorite foods, burgers, bacon, fries, the greaser the better, and then you started with the making of his favorite pies. But somewhere along the way you forgot about the pie's in the oven, letting them burn to a crisp, after you rushed in, trying to save what's left of the charred goods, seeing it was disaster, you wouldn't be able to save it, you burst into tears, cussing yourself for messing up what's supposed to be the perfect day, you felt his strong arms pulling you towards his chest, staining his shirt with the wetness of your cheeks. He's breathe hot as he kissed you, in a loving, comforting way, reassuring you everything will be okay, it's just pie's not the end off the world.

He always did know how too comfort you, how too chase the darkness away, he was your lighthouse, so to say, showing you the way, back too the light. And now, now there's no more light too go home. No more home, just nothing.

Taking a sip of the now cold bitter coffee, that kind of taste like, old shoes, not that you'll know how that would taste like, but betting its something like this. Placing the cup down, sliding the dollar's underneath the half full cup on the diner table, you get up, throwing your ball cap on, hair hanging loose on your shoulders, taking your leather jacket and phone, you start too head out of the small town diner. Walking towards your Harley Davidson, you've always liked the way, that bunch of metal, felt roaring as you sat on that leather seat, the wind rushing through your hair, the way those gas fumes, flowed through your veins, not even to talk about the adrenaline that went with it, oh damn, you felt about your Harley like Dean felt about his impala. Seeing a giant creep checking out your bike, leaning on it, irritation in your voice "excuse, what are you doing?"

His voice rough and unpleasant "why do you care, little missy"

Walking closer, your eyes darker than usual "that's my bike"

The bald man, with his long beard, hiding his tatted neck, started to laugh "No way such a small little thing can handle that sort of horse power"

"I'm only going to ask you nicely one more time, get off my damn bike!"

Crossing his arms in front of him, "Or what? You gonna call the little cops"

"No! I'm going to make you get off my bike"

"I'd like to see you try missy"

She really wasn't in the mood for this. So she tried to shove him off, but he was on the larger side and didn't really move a single damn inch. It just made him irritated "hey come here missy" he said as he grabbed a hold of your arm, you smiled, that made him look at you all confused, but he soon realized, he should not have messed with you, as you took his fingers, and started bending them backwards, bringing the big guy down to your size. With your free hand, you punched the sucker in the face. Got up on your bike, and drove down the road too the nearest bar you could find, for information and while you where there you might as well get something to drink.

The Black Chevy Impala roared as it parked in front of the diner, Dean and Sam got out, a big guy, with a black eye, just got off the ground as they started making their way towards the door, Dean looked at the guy a smirk on his face "What happened to you buddy?"

The man mumbled "crazy biker chick"

Dean just laughed, as he figured this chick was probably part of his gang, as the beaten up guy had a biker jacket with their logo on. He still smiled but he felt stabbing pains in his heart. His sweetheart was a 'biker chick' a swell, she could handle that roaring horsepower better than most men, and man!, was she tough, so fierce and fiery, so passionate and yet so gentle, vulnerable at times, so fragile, she cared more than most, people, and beautiful, so freaking beautiful, her smile could light up a room, he fell hard for her the first time he saw her, and it just grew from there he loved her , he still loved her, but he just had too walk away, for her own safety, everyone close too him get hurt or dies. And especially with everything going on, he couldn't risk it, if someone found out, that she wasn't just another hunter, no she was the love of his life, he'd never forgive himself if something would happen too her. Sam calling his name for the fourth time pulled him out of his deep thoughts, "Hey man, you with me?"

"Yeah, yeah, just thinking I need a drink not coffee"

Sam gave him a sympathetic smile, knowing his brother probably thought of her again, he just nods and says "okay sure let's go"

The only information she got was that, some of the missing folks were last seen close too a pig farm , on the outskirts of this town.

And now, now she just sat here swallowing the vodka, it was easier than too think that Dean aren't coming back, hating how she felt , how alone and miserable, how heartbroken, she really thought that she was stronger than this, but no, she's weak and pathetic, sobbing about a man, a damn man who left her in the pouring rain. What the hell was wrong with her, she never was the kind, to be good little wife material, who would cook for her husband and bake brownies for her children's school, but the sad truth was she wanted too be all that with Dean, she would've gave up hunting, too be his wife and the mother of his children. But clearly he didn't feel the same. Thumbing away a stray tear, she gestures to the bartender , for another. The music was loud and the alcohol made her slightly lightheaded, she knew she needed some air, sliding off the barstool, walking towards the exit, fumbling in her pockets for a packet of cigarettes, she only smokes when she drinks. Some guy, lit her cigarette, she just nods, thanking him with a smile as she stood in the crisp evening air, the air mixed with nicotine hit her lungs, letting a little cough escapes her lips. As she blows out the smoke, she heard that damn Chevy pull in, she couldn't miss it , Dean had a certain way if driving and it was him for sure. She just stood there, frozen in the darkness. "What the hell is he doing here" whispering underneath her breath. Hoping that he doesn't see her, knowing that she will burst out in tears the moment she tried to speak too him.

He wales past a couple of bikes, that's when he saw it, her bike, hard too miss it, on the rear bumper the lyrics of her favorite Bon Jovi song. He elbows his brother "Sam, she's here"

Sam looked at him shocked, "What? Are you sure"

Running his hand over his face "Of course I'm damn sure" clearing his throat "I can't see her, man, I just can't, I've missed her so much, it was hard enough too walk away from her that night, I won't be able to do it again"

Sam places his hand on his big brother shoulder "Don't you think, this whole protection thing your trying is dumb"

Dean's jaw clenched, "No, Everybody around me dies, and there's nothing I can do about it, I have to let her go"

Sam just shook his head, his known his brother felt like this for a while now, but it's gotten worse, his unsure why, but he will try and get through too him, Dean's only been happy, whenever he was with her. "Okay let's go"

Dean and Sam made their way towards the car, they're about to get in when they heard a spine chilling scream , Dean recognized her voice. He searches in the darkness, when he catches a glimpse of four men, throwing her in a black van. He didn't even realized it but he started running towards the van, as the last of them jumped in, he saw a glimpse of her, the last thing he heard, was her screaming his name and a gun shot, which brought him to a stop as he fell to the ground, chanting her name over and over, until his eyes fell closed.

Sam fired his gun towards the van, but couldn't get decent shots from that angle. He fell to his knees next to his brother, glancing at the bullet wound in his chest, the blood gushing out, he applied pressure on the wound, he could feel the life draining from his brother as he begged Castiel to come. Sam's eyes damp with tears, his heart pounding in his throat, a silent scream escaping his lip "Cas, please man, I need you Dean need's you"

You could hear the flutter of wings, when the celestial being landed, his face struck with concern "What happened?"

Sam glanced at the man in the trench coat, holding his brother in arms, "please, just help him Cas"

The angel approached his best friend, there was nothing quite as bad, as seeing him, in pain, placing his hand on Dean's shoulder and Sam's, the three men found themselves in a motel, Dean was still unconscious but breathing, Sam glanced at the angel, mouthing a "thank you"

Traces of the tears still evident on her cheeks as she recalled Dean getting shot, he was there, running towards her, he stilled cared. The four men watched her like a hawk, she cradled her legs in the corner, as if she's a animal trying too hide herself from the prey.

The van came to a stop, she knew something had to be done, so she took the knife she hid in her boots, covered it in her hand, she knew taking all four men was asking to much, so she'll have to isolate them. Take them one by one. The men double, maybe triple her size, but she aren't going down this way, without a fight.

As the two men , opened the door, she saw what looked like a barn, there where cages, with other people inside, seeing she's not the only one that needed saving, she slid the knife back in her boot. She needed more information than this, so she went with it. The man held her by her hair, threw her into a cage which had two other girls probably about round about 16 and 18, and much older man, in his late 60's maybe. Hitting the the floor, scraping her palms.

The older man helped her up, "you okay?"

"Yeah thanks never been better" the sarcasm rolled over her pressed lips.

A big guy, came standing against the cage, with a stupid smug on his round face. "When Ricky there told me about this little woman, who punched him, just for leaning against her bike, I knew I had too throw you in the ring"

She got to a standing position, striding closer, too this gigantic man, "What are you? A human trafficker , organ? What"

He laughed "None of the above, just a business man," he started walking away.

"What is he talking about?" Her eyes intensified "Does anyone know why we are here?"

She heard a man's voice coming from another cage, he was beaten pretty bad, "We are here too fight against each other, like the movie Condemned, apparently it happens in really life" he let out a defeated laugh. The whole barn filled with chatter, people gasping for air, as the initial shock took over. Those who haven't seen the movie, quickly got enlighten by those who have, the rich of the rich, places bets on the person, who they think will survive and it gets streamed on the dark web for everyone to watch.

There's a clock with a timer and the one who have killed all the other 'players' in that amount of time, gets to live another round. Some just cried, the others just quietly, sat in the corners of their cages, holding on too their knees, as if that's going to help, everywhere in that barn there's cages filled with silence and then those with chatter.

Then in the cage she's in, the two young teenage girls just hold on too each other, clinging for dear Life. The grey old guy, just kept mumbling too himself, "I can't kill these people" over and over.

Probably not the most polite thing in this situation but damn, it worked on her nerves, she's trying think of a solution, a plan something to save these people. But she was all out of ideas, to be honest, except maybe one, her back was against the cage, she silently started to talk to Cas, asking him to come and find her, but nothing, he didn't hear or he didn't want too, either way it was up too her.

Glancing down at the ground, then her leather boots she remembered the knife, she could use that too unlock the cage door, then start freeing the others, she took the last bit of hope in her hand, starting to put the blade in, turning and wiggling it, until she heard the click sound, she was overjoyed, she slowly opened the screeching steel door, every noise sounded as loud as thunder.

She could see the different keys, close to the barn entrance, almost walking on the balls of her feet, so that she didn't make a single sound, reaching for the keys, her fingertips barely touching it, she jumped into the air, grabbing ahold if it, she started making her way towards the first cage. Searching for the key that fits, the barn doors flung open, she recognized the guy, Ricky from earlier, and some other dude, who made her skin crawl , "Hey how'd you get out?" Ricky shouted.

"What you can see me?" She joked, something she always did, when she was very nervous.

The other guy ran to her, but she kicked him before he even could touch her, she still had the knife in hand, this big fella didn't say, much, he charged towards her, when that silver blade touched his arm, it made him squirm, "Oh that's just freaking lovely, what are you, a vamp? A wolfie?" She sneered

The moment he showed his, teeth she knew it was a werewolf, the other folks in the cages screamed, as they never saw such a creature.

"So this games rigged? Normal human being and creatures from the night, joining the game"

Surprised the wolf looked at her , a growl "your a hunter?"

Mischievous smile on her lips "why would you say that?" The wolf growled once again, as he charged towards your position, clawing your back, as he flung you against a cage, everything is swimming before her eyes, all you could make out was that she was flung against the beaten up man, he had the bluest eyes, which kind of reminded her about Castiel's eyes.

The wolf like creature came closer, looking for your blood, that's when the man stood up, black coat drenched in blood, unsure if it was his own, or some of the creature's his killed, the last time, his blue orbs, illuminated, bloodshot veins stretched like a roadmap in his eyes , his fangs came out revealing that his a vampire.

Laying there, you where left at the mercy of these two, but you were surprised when the vamp, took ahold of the wolf, smashing his head against the bars, he had this deep old time southern voice "leave her alone"

The man, glared at her and the vamp, picking her up, letting her sway like a sack of potatoes in the air. Ricky quickly came to open the cage, throwing her in by the vampire, "You can have her".

Knowing the open wounds made the situation worse, as it was like a magnet for the vamp, she tried too get up, too defend herself but, in that moment she was too weak.

The vamp, came closer towards her, his features returned to those of a man, his voice kind "I'm not going to hurt you, I'm Benny"

Shocked "Benny, like in Benny Lafitte? Dean's friend?"

He smiled, "I thought I recognized you, saw you once on his lock screen, asked him about this new women in his life, he told me you are the love of his life"

Smirking, "Yeah that's awhile ago I guess"

Confusion written all over his face, but before he could ask, the barn filled with gas, hearing Benny say "its to knock us out so they can take us to the next location" before you could find out more, the knock out gas started taking its toll.

His eyes flutter open, Sam and Cas both sharing the same concerned facial expressions, his voice croaky "what did something happen? Is.." struggling to form the words "is she gone?"

Sam spoke quickly, trying to reassure his big brother "No! We don't know, Cas can't pick up her location"

Cas spoke "Wherever she's at, must be warded off with sigils"

Dean groaned when he sat up, "we have to save her, I can't loose her"

The three of them turned their heads when they heard the familiar phrase from Crowley "Hello Boys"

Dean immediately got up, pointing a finger at him, "Do you have something to do with her disappearance, tell me now!"

Crowley gave him a sympathetic look, that lasted about an second "Squirrel I had nothing to do with her, but I know where you can find her"

Dean could not control the anger that intensified in his chest, he smashed Crowley against the nearest wall, his arm pressing against his throat his forest green eyes pierced the black ones, his voice low, and stern "Crowley if your messing with me, I will kill you, I swear I'll kill"

With the flick of Crowley's fingers Dean flew across the room, he shouts, this whole situation clearly upsetting him as well. "She saved my damn life, why would I want something to happen to her, she cared enough to save me, ME!!!" Crowley shouted.

Sam hurried to help Dean up, recalling the saving Crowley is talking about, he was stuck in a devils trap, bounded with chains around his hands and neck, as some other hunter took out all his anger on Crowley, stabbing him over and over, when she came in, tried talking the man down, but he didn't see any reason as he thought Crowley was to blame for the death of his family, but he wasn't, he had nothing to do with it. As she was talking to this guy, she slowly started to scratch the round red chalked circle on the floor with the heel of her boots, so that Crowley can break free, the line was finally broken, by clicking his fingers the chains shook loose and fell into a thousand pieces, the other hunter saw what she did, ran towards her, pushed the blade right through her upper torso. That's when Dean and Sam ran into, her for the first time, they where hunting the hunter who they thought was possessed but turns out he had such an amount of rage inside him, that whom ever got in his way, he'd kill.

Dean's harsh voice pulled Sam out of his thoughts, "Where is she Crowley"

"Well not only her , but other people as well, even Werewolves and vampires, you named it they have it, I know the location, but we have to go now," he clears his throat, "there's only one snag, neither can I nor Cass get in their, the damn sigils on the barns wall, wont let us through"

Dean's already halfway across the room, towards the door, "what are we waiting for"

In a matter of seconds the four of them stood In front of the barn on the pig farm, Sam is busy discussing a plan of action but Dean, already pushed the barn doors open, "what the hell Dean" the loudness in Sam's voice makes Dean face him, but he just shakes him off, not answering, too determined to safe her, he walks in, gun in hand, ready for anything, everywhere you look, all the cage doors stands open, not a single trace of anyone, something glistening on the floor catches his eye, its a rose gold chain with a heart shaped locket, he didn't need to turn it around, to see the engraved 'love you always D.W' to know its hers, he opens it anyways, glaring at the picture, both off them laughing, the way they looked at each other, you could feel the electricity, the love they shared, he folds it closed in his fisted hand, his eyes damp with emotion. He runs outside, punches Crowley straight in the face. Cas takes ahold of Dean's arm's demanding him to stop. The defeated look on his face is too much too bare for the three men looking at Dean, disappointed and unsure where to look next they start looking around the farm for clues, for something that can give him a glimpse of hope.

The strong sunrays, burning her eyes, as she opens them, the pain from last night's fight, let's her realize what's happening, she tries too move, but can't, searching for the reason, she sees the rope wrapped around her arms, and waist, too a tree, she tries too wiggle, to get out off the tight grip, that's when she hears a ticking of a clock tick-tock, tick-tock, it sounded incredibly loud, looking up to where the sounds came from, seeing giant speakers blaring the sound of a clock. A rough unpleasant voice spoke, game rules: "Everything goes, you can use any weapon you can find, to kill your opponent, and also remember the last one standing gets too live" he lets out a snotty laugh. "Oh yes, and contestants, we made the first kill very easy, if you can find contestant five, she's tied up and ready to kill, oh and give us a show" he laughs harder, then all of the sudden its dead silence, figuring she's contestant no: five, she'd better think of something to get out if this situation. Her words barely a whisper, "I don't even know why I try, but Cas are you there, Crowley, can someone hear me? Please I need someone"

The rustling of the leaves, let's her know there's someone, maybe it's Cas or Crowley, maybe its someone's who wants to take her as their first kill.

The large man with his black coat walks towards her.

He's voice hushed, "let me get you outta here"

"Oh darn, I'm so thankful its you Benny"

As he unties her, they hear rustling in the bushes, he hands her a knife, and they stand ready for action, back against back, three people came closer, it's the three she shared the cage with, she and Benny suggested they walk behind them, so that the two of them can protect them.

The further they walk the more danger they seem too run into, Benny takes the most werewolves, windigos and Leviathan's , as for you, you take most of the other human beings, who wants to attack the two teenage girls and old man.

You are bruised, beaten and torn up, unsure if your body is covered in your own blood or those of the enemies, you keep on going, grateful, that you had these people to protect, because if you had to be honest, if it weren't for them, you wouldn't fight so hard to survive, every now and then you get flashbacks of how Dean got shot, knowing it was fatal, you don't want to allow yourself to think that he could be really gone, there's this glimmer of hope that he might still be alive, maybe Sam helped him, maybe Cas or Crowley.

Resting against a tree to catch your breath, you see the blood gushing down your arm, one of the men came at you with a damn axe, and in the fight he threw the axe towards you, pinning you against a tree, it must've been the adrenaline but you wiggled that axe, out of you arm, screaming while throwing it back at him, which ended up between his eyes. You fell too your knees, the emotion welling up behind your eyes, you get caught off guard when someone or something picks you up in the air. A little weak, and confused all you can see is that your draped over the large man, with multiple tattoos shoulder, it didn't take long, too lose consciousness.

Dean could not believe what he just heard, both Cas and Crowley told him, that they heard you call out too them, they knew where you were, you where caught in Purgatory, damn Purgatory. What the hell is going on. It felt like someone took his very last breath. His been too Purgatory, It's no joke for sure, it changed him, the only person who made him whole was her, his sweetheart and now, now she's going through all of that.

Crowley spoke with his people, which revealed, that the one and only Dick Roman sits behind it all, with a connection in the real world, who takes normal people, of all ages just to make money, and feed his obsession of killing people.

His quiet, as he drives too the place where the portal opens to Purgatory, thinking about all the things there, so many monsters, dangers around every corner. He just hopes, his going to make it in time, she just has too be okay, has to be alive, squinting his eyes as he recalls what he had too do, too survive.

"Sweetheart you awake?" Rolling over too the right side of the bed, emerald green eyes looking back at you, "Baby?"

"Why do you look so surprised sweetheart"

"Uhmmm I'm not really sure, it feels so right yet so wrong" she smiled

Without a single word, Dean cups your face, places his lips on yours, its sweet, it's sensual, yet filled with passion. Breaking the kiss, you look at him, studying his face, the speck of hazel around the black pupil, the way, his freckles runs across his nose, almost like the milky way, the corners of his mouth, that is slightly curled in a smile, his plumps lips, that's slightly swollen from the kiss, the little stubble on his chin and cheeks, the way his jawline just kind of frames his picture perfect face, the way his deep smoky voice fills the air, and your body with a exhilarating energy, "Why are you looking at me like that?" He asked.

Your voice barely audible and brittle, "I just love you, I love you more than life itself"

His voice calm, but certain "Marry Me"

Your jaw dropped, "What?"

He started to kiss your lips softly, his breathe hot as he said "Yes babe, I want you to be my wife?"

Searching his eyes your lips crept upwards into a smile, your voice sounded more brittle than you intended "Yes, yes Dean Winchester, I'll marry you"

The joy dancing in his green eyes, made you happy, even though a few stray tears rolled over your cheeks.

Feeling like your walking on cloud nine, then all of the sudden, you get this sharp pain in you ribs, unwillingly your eyes flutter open, gasping for air "what the hell?"

Looking around you, seeing your in some kind of room, chains around your wrists, hanging from what looks like the ceiling, clothing blood-soaked. Hair sticking to your face, sweat mixed with blood. Your feet barely touching the floor, it feels as if your arms is getting pulled out of their sockets if you move to much, your throat dry, realizing you must've been passed out, it wasn't really a dream, more like a memory, Dean did ask you too marry him, and then outta nowhere, two days later, you where left standing in the rain, the tears streaming down your face, unsure if it's about the way Dean left things, or the situation your currently thrown in.

Sighing, whispering to no one really "I'm tired, I'm so tired, I can't anymore and I don't want to anymore" head hanging down, looking at the floor, closing your eyes, wishing all this could be over, you heard heavy footsteps, laughter filling the dark air.

His voice smooth "All this turned out better than I could've imagined"

Confused you glare at him "okay, fine you win, get it over with"

Walking closer towards you, big smug on his face, "see, I can't deal with you yet, I know who you are" getting angrier now "I'll finally get my revenge, Dean will watch you die, he wanted to send me here, now I will take something precious from him"

Shocked to hear that he thinks Dean is still alive , she plays along maybe, it's her way out, Scoffing "Well sorry to hear you think he'd be coming to look for me, because we aren't together no more"

He laughs, "oh no, he is already here, searching for you, my men left him a little bread trail, as to where you are"

Furious now, you shake, trying to get loose, shouting "You leave Dean alone, kill me , but let him go please"

Clapping his hands together, "Ah, young love" he laughs harder "I am going to kill you, but Dean needs to watch, then I'll kill Sam, Cas and even Crowley, all while Dean has to watch"

Eyes wide, barely audible "They're all here"

His smug smile never leaving his face "oh yes, all of them, clearly they care, its so pathetic, you humans, you know that?"

Squinting her eyes, trying too fight the tears threatening to spill over, you care about all of them, more than you care to admit. He just simply walks out of sight. The silence is deafening, the only thing she can hear is her heart racing, Dean's alive, he came looking for her. Somewhere between the excitement of hearing Dean's alive and the spine chilling silence, she lost consciousness.

They hardly had too beat the crap out of some of the men, on their road to this half torn down, factory like building, all of them agreed, it felt like a trap, but Dean didn't give a damn, he needed to find her, save her and bring her home, he has been cursing himself internally, the whole damn way, if only he didn't freak out, but the moment he realized he wanted to marry her, be her husband, wishing he never said that, went on that hunt, saw how that ghost threw her against the wall, the pain she must've felt, he couldn't bear the thought of her getting hurt or worst getting killed, just because that's what he did, so saying goodbye, felt like the best thing to do, hoping she'll give up hunting, but he should've known better. He should have stayed by her side, he should have discussed his fears, the way he felt, but instead he went and broke her heart.

The four of them split up, there's to many halls, and doors too search, mostly the halls are filled with darkness, its filthy and disgusting, dried splattered blood on the walls, scattered human bones on the cement floors. There's scratching sounds coming from one of the rooms, the gun in Dean's hand is loaded, opening the door, unsure of what he's going to find, he's skin crawling as a bunch of rats, runs past him, some over his feet, slapping against his legs, whispering underneath his breath, "damn filth". He's heart, beating out of his chest, the more he walks in the darkness the more he can feel the darkness entering his mind, his heart, every grain of his very being.

He stopped in his tracks, the moment he saw her, hanging by chain's, her whole body is slumped over, hair covering her face, he can't make out if she's still breathing, for what felt like an eternity, he froze, almost too afraid to take a closer look. Striding closer till he's right in front of her, he gently takes her face in his hands, concern painted on his face, a burning pain in his chest, her beautiful face is bruised, and bloodied, her breathing faint, but still there, his voice hushed "Sweetheart, can you hear me"

Watching her open her eyes, was a beautiful site, she looked tired, a smile across her busted lips, "Dean,"

"Yes sweetheart I'm here, I'm sorry, I love you" he declared.

Sobbing now, "I... I thought I lost you forever"

"Baby, you'll always have me, always you hear me" he pleaded

Before she could answer a couple of men appeared out of the shadows. There were maybe six or seven, Dean got up, in a fighting stance ready to beat the crap out of them, he started punching and kicking his way, through the men, it wasn't until the last one hit the ground that he'd stop, blood splatters across his face, glancing over at her, he hears the familiar voice of Dick Roman "crashing the party are we?"

"Yeah well I didn't receive an invite so thought I'll invite myself" Dean smirked. He drew his gun, knowing it won't really help, but it's more a habit, "What do you want?" He questioned

Crude laughter fills the air, "I want you to pay Dean" he snapped his fingers, more men came running towards Dean, he tried his best, but he was one against, all of them, they over powered him, one clocked him against the head, in his unconscious state, they were tying him to a chair with chains, facing you.

It didn't take long before they were beating you, biting your lower lip, not wanting to give them the pleasure of seeing you in so much pain, you could taste the blood on the tip on your lip.

Dick Roman came walking towards you, dagger in hand, hoping he couldn't see the pain, and fear in your eyes, your eyes pierced his, he didn't say a single word, he pushed that dagger, through the skin and bone, wedging it between your ribs. Your scream filling the dark room.

Dean's eyes flung open, he's jaw clenched, he's voice angered and defeated "NO BABE" he shouted.

"Ah poor Dean Winchester" he laughed

Dean's green eyes, now almost black, "I'm going to kill, I promise you that"

Laughter filled the air, once again, it didn't last long though, surprised he glanced at them, Sam, Cas, Crowley and Benny, all four off them stood their bloodied and beaten, but ready to fight. All four of them started fighting and killing their way towards Dean and you, Crowley was the first one to stand next too Dean, his British voice almost inaudible "This belongs to you" he's face lit up with a sly smile.

Dean looked at him all confused, "I thought you threw this in the sea somewhere"

Crowley just shrugs his shoulders. The moment he placed that blade in Dean's hands he could feel the mark, turning a fiery red, the power pulsing through his veins, it didn't take long for the effects to take control of him, breaking loose out of the chain's, he faces Dick Roman, a smirk on his lips, he's features darkens. Taking that blade right too his chest, he kept going over and over, not stopping for a second, driving the blade further and deeper into his now lifeless body.

Sam tried to make him stop, even Cas, Benny and Crowley, but it didn't work.

Your voice brittle, revealing the pain, "Dean stop, please Baby"

Immediately stopping, he threw the blade down, running towards you, his eyes pleading, his voice soft "Sweetheart I'm so sorry" cupping your face, kissing your lips, holding you close to him, as Cas and Sam unlocks the chains, your body went limb, all you could feel is his hands holding you upright. Staring into his emerald green eyes, mouthing "I love you" the last thing you catches a glimpse off, was the light in his eyes as he replied "I love you too, Sweetheart, come back to me, come home please"

It's been almost three years since that dreadful day, smiling now, if it weren't for Dean begging Cas to save you, you wouldn't be here baking your husband his birthday pie, getting ready for the barbeque, with your good friends Sam, Cas, Benny and yes even dear old Crowley.

Did you and the Winchester Brothers stop hunting, no, of course not, but the two of you have each other and that's all you'll ever need, whenever your lost, knowing Dean's your lighthouse showing you the way home, with those beautiful green eyes.

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