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dindadjarin · 1 year

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Declaration - Chapter 4

CAPTAIN REX KNIGHT AU

pairing: knight!captain Rex x princess!reader

summary: After setting off to the relief mission and the attack to your campsite, you finally arrive to Greymoon where you gather all the supplies you need to finally help the village of Liana. There’s one permanent thought in your mind though, your captain, how is he doing? Is he safe? Only time will tell, for now you need to help those in need.

AN: I KNOW THIS HAS TAKEN SOOOO LONG TO UPDATE! I want to thank the few people who like and still read this story, thank you thank you thank you it means so much that you read it. I hope you enjoy this chapter as the princess gets more depth to her character, and like us can’t stop thinking about Rex. (I had so much fun world building as I wrote this so let me know if you liked the chapter!) 💕

Masterlist

Previous Chapter

✧☆★✧☆★

CHAPTER 4

The last trek towards Greymoon is completed in silence, injured soldiers clutching their shoulders and minor wounds, while others stay on high alert. The 99th legion leads the way at the front and flanks your back in case there’s another ambush. Though it is an unlikely event, according to Sergeant Hunter; him and Hardcase scouted the area ahead minutes ago and made sure there were no threats waiting for you. After forty tense minutes in the woods, Greymoon finally comes to view, and everyone lets out a collective breath of relief. You made it, not as a peacefully as you hoped, but you made it nonetheless, and the people of Liana are one step closer to receiving aid.

Greymoon is a picturesque village surrounded by flowers and quaint houses left and right –something one wouldn’t think of when hearing the villages’ name. You can see a big building in the middle of the village; it has a dome-like ceiling in the middle and two towers on each side resembling a chapel. In the distance, alongside the main cobblestone road leading up to the chapel you catch a glimpse of a school, a street market, and an eatery, each with a different paint colour covering their building and front door. There are pines and bushes with orange and red leaves around the main gates, dandelions and green grass growing between the stones of pillars that support the gates. The sun is starting to rise in the distance, making the flowers bloom, as if welcoming all of you to town after your long journey. It makes the village look even more comforting for all of you.

“It's so colourful,” You mention with a smile, the various plants by the gates reminding you of your garden back home.

“It is only called Greymoon because of the way the moon looks in the winter. The fog and cold makes it look grey, not white.” The knight walking next to your horse speaks up suddenly after catching your words. It’s Tech from the 99th legion. “It’s a common question among visitors.”

“Well, that is good to know. Thank you, Sir Tech.” You chuckle; when the knight offers you a nod, you decide to ask him another question. “How long have the four of you been here in Greymoon?”

“1830 days, your Highness.” He tells you, removing his helmet and staring ahead in concentration. “Therefore around 5 years since we volunteered to be protectors.”

“Oh, then it’s like the 412th legion and the 5–” You begin until Tech turns and nods his head in agreement.

“The 501st, yes.” Tech says, meeting your eyes for the first time. He wears glasses and behind them are a pair of brown eyes that gaze away from you after a second in favour of looking ahead. “Led by captain Rex, your protector.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and you sputter out a response, words tumbling over each other. You hear Nathalia giggling next to you. “M-my protec- protector?”

“Why yes.” The knight asserts, “The 501st is the princess’ legion, is it not? For your protection. Thus, the captain is your protector.”

You let out a deep breath discreetly and nod your head calmly. “Certainly. I trust him with my life.”

You’re about to speak up again when another voice does so first. “Your highness, welcome to Greymoon! We are so happy you’re here.”

Right at the gates there’s a short, white-haired man; he’s dressed in beige pants, white collared shirt, and a brown pinstripe vest. He smiles widely as he sees you and the 501st arrive, opening his arms as he says Welcome! to the soldiers surrounding your horse. Sir Hardcase gets off his horse and offers his hand to you so you can dismount yours; he does the same with Nathalia who, along with Lieutenant Echo, joins you by your side as you approach the Major.

“Mister Major.” You say with a smile, and hold out your hand in greeting. The Major shakes it enthusiastically and inclines his head as he says hello. “Thank you for sending the 99th legion to our aid.”

“Please call me Mr. Hugh.” He smiles back, the wrinkles by his eyes becoming more prominent as his mouth pushes his cheeks upwards. “No need to thank me, your Highness, it’s us that should apologize for not scouting the river prior to your arrival.”

You shake your head. “That’s alright, Mr. Hugh. Allow me to introduce Lieutenant Echo, and Miss Nathalia.”

The three of them exchange greetings, and you introduce the rest of the 501st accompanying you before the voices of several children interrupt you. Princess! Princess! Young boys and girls exclaim as they run towards the gates, many of them still in their sleep garments. You kneel closer to the ground, holding out your hand to greet each one of them.

“Good morning.” You smile, chuckling as they scramble to curtesy and incline their head in greeting.

Their words jumble together as they talk over each other, their eyes shining with excitement, and their toothy grins melting your heart. You’re so pretty! Your horse is amazing! What’s his name! Your dress is so beautiful! You have a sword! I didn’t know princesses could have swords. You smile bashfully at their words, heart doubling its size inside your chest as you do. You’re certain you look closer to a mess than beautiful after the fight with the pirates, but their kind words feel much like a warm hug. You try to answer their questions as best as you can before their parents call them back to their side and you rise to your feet.

“Now,” Major Hugh speaks up as soon as the children leave, clapping his hands in front of him. “The knights you sent ahead mentioned you need supplies, your Highness. Am I correct in assuming they are for the people of Liana?”

“You’re correct.” You tell him with a nod. “We have a list of things we’d like to purchase from you. We leave for Liana tomorrow morning.”

“Very well,” Hugh agrees. “Though, I must reject your gold, Princess. Think of our supplies as a donation to our neighbours in need. I’ve already spread the word around Greymoon and everyone is already gathering donations of their own for Liana.”

The smile that comes to your face hurts your cheeks; Khalmians are so generous. “That is very kind of you Mr. Hugh. Thank you.”

“It is very kind, thank you Mr. Major.” Sir Echo nods his head in thanks, then motions towards you with his hand. “If it’s alright with you, might we have an hour to get settled down and tend to our wounded? Her Highness included.”

“Of course!” The Major hurries to say, looking distraught as gazes towards the bloodied bandage on your hand. “I’ll show you to the Inn where you’ll be staying; we can meet again at the dining hall for breakfast and continue our conversation then.”

“Perfect.” You smile at him; just then, your hand starts to ache again as a reminder that you need to rest no matter how short the time.

“We’ll be ready when you need us, your Highness.” Sergeant Hunter speaks up from where he’s settled by one of your carriages. “Wrecker here can help the 501st load the carriages.” He gives his fellow knight a pat on the back.

“That’d be much appreciated. Thank you, Sergeant.” You nod your head before Sir Echo does so as well, offering his own thanks.

Nathalia grabs your uninjured hand and all but drags you behind her as she follows the Major to the Inn and your assigned room. Sir Hardcase and Sir Kix trail behind both of you with your luggage and medical supplies respectively. The Inn is a tall building with 5 floors; its wooden structure is made from oak that’s been stained dark enough to look almost black. Though its interior is as dark as the outside and illuminated only by certain oil lamps hanging from the ceiling, it manages to be welcoming. There are enough windows to provide clarity, and both the hallways and staircases are covered by a long turquoise rug that provides a much-needed pop of colour. Your assigned room ends up being on the 5th floor, a large suite with two beds –one for you and one for Nathalia– an adjacent bathing chamber and a large window with white curtains that match the embroidered bedding. The Major points to the room from the end of the hallway and bids all of you farewell until breakfast in an hour. You thank him before Nathalia urges you into the room to sit down on the bed.

The next ten minutes are a blur. Nathalia helps you out of your chainmail and boots as soon as you sit down, while Sir Kix brings a small bowl with water from the bathing chamber to clean and tend to your newest cut. Pushing your sleeve upwards until it settles on your elbow, you offer your hand to Sir Kix. He is quick to apologize, as he always does, before he takes off the bandage you’d been wearing. He cleans your wound with a wet gauze and a stinging clear liquid that makes you hiss in pain.

“The good thing, is that you don’t need stitches.” He tells you once the pain fades and he begins to cover the wound with a healing ointment and a new bandage. “That would have been more painful.”

You hear Sir Hardcase chuckle as he waits by the closed door. “The good thing is she still has her hand, Kix.”

Nathalia grimaces and shakes her head. “Not a nice picture, Hardcase.”

The knight laughs and moves away from the door as Sir Kix packs up his supplies in a hurry, anxious to help his fellow soldiers who also sustained injuries.

“Thank you, Sir Kix. Thank you too, Sir Hardcase.” You smile gratefully at them. “I’ll see you in an hour in the dining hall.”

“No need to thank us, your Highness. Always happy to help.” Sir Kix shakes his head before inclining it in farewell.

“See you later, Princess. You too, Miss Nathalia.” Sir Hardcase follows the medic after he waves his hand goodbye at the two of you.

“Here, your Highness.” Nathalia says, shoving a bowl full of seasonal fruit in your hands as soon as the door is closed and locked. “Eat something while I sort out this mess.”

She points to your hair with a shake of her head, and it makes a laugh escape you. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

“Oh no, it’s a disaster.” Your friend tells you in all seriousness.

You shrug and pick a delicious looking apricot from the bowl before setting the rest aside. The fruit is juicy and sweet, and you feel better by the third bite. Its sweetness comforting you enough to not feel at the brink of exhaustion anymore. Nathalia works on your hair silently, undoing braids and pushing all your hair up in a ponytail. She then proceeds to braid different strands of hair and wrap them around intricately into a bun. When she’s done, she moves towards the closet and takes out a new dress —a beautiful one in a light blue color with silver, gold and pale pink rhinestones embroidered along the neckline, sleeves, and hem— that is surprisingly free of wrinkles. She must have unpacked it while Sir Kix cleaned your cut.

You open your mouth to ask her how that’s even possible after it being in your luggage for a day, but she smiles proudly and cuts you off. “It’s a secret, your Highness.”

You laugh and shake your head, standing up and walking towards the bathing chamber where Nathalia helps you out of your dress and into a new one. The bathing chamber is vastly different from the main room as its floors and walls are covered in white marble; the white stone has gold and brown veins running along it, matching the porcelain bathtub in the middle of the room. Nathalia ties the back of your dress, cinching it at the waist and securing the ribbon with a final knot at the top, between your shoulder blades. With no chainmail to hide your dress this time, you run your hands over the bodice and feel the small rhinestones that decorate it. It seems silly in your mind, but the dress brings you much needed comfort after the turbulent journey you’ve had so far; it reminds you of who you are, the person you’ve grown to become. Not a princess, no, but a capable woman who's taking the reins of the Kingdom for this one time –hopefully it’s not the last. Turning around and stepping towards the mirror, you look at your reflection and smile when you catch Nathalia’s eyes.

“Thank you, Nat.” You smile softly at her. “You were right, I was a disaster.”

“If I’d known you would hurt yourself again, I would have packed a long-sleeved dress to hide that bandage.” She chuckles, pointing at your hand. “But you’re welcome, your Highness.”

“You should change too, Nat.” You tell her as you step away from the bathing chamber and towards the bedroom. “That way, you can rest for a while. I sense we have a long day ahead of us.”

Nathalia nods and closes the door dividing the room and the bathing chamber for privacy; you make your way towards the bed. You can’t help the sigh that leaves you when you lie down, your head hitting the soft pillow and body settling on the comfortable mattress. Not a moment later you fall asleep, then proceed to wake up what feels like two seconds later to someone knocking on the door.

“What?!” Nathalia sits up with a gasp, having fallen asleep on the other bed beside yours.

You laugh as you sit up to go open the door, “Just a moment please!”

Nathalia, however, rushes to the door before you can, stopping short when she opens it. “Sir Echo, h-hello.” She greets him, flustered?

Why would Nathalia be flustered? You wonder, before shrugging it off as Sir Echo speaks up and you walk towards the door.

“Miss Nathalia, your Highness.” The lieutenant nods at each of you then motions towards the hall. “I was making sure the two of you were ready to meet with the Major again.”

“Oh no, what time is it?” You ask worried, hurrying to slip on your boots again; you have no time to look for your other shoes. Besides, your dress is long enough to cover them well so no one will be able to see them.

“We have ten minutes until the agreed time.” Sir Echo says and when Nathalia sighs with relief he chuckles. “No rush, the dining hall is right here at the Inn.”

You shake your head and look at Nathalia, “You’re ready to go? I can’t believe we fell asleep.”

“Lead the way your highness.” She smiles, following you after she closes and locks the bedroom door.

Three pair of footsteps can be heard faintly on the dark carpet before Nathalia breaks the silence with a question. “Sir Echo, might I ask you something?”

“Of course.” He glances her way as the three of you begin to descend the staircase towards the first floor.

“What do you make of the 99th legion?” Nathalia asks, curiosity in her hushed tone. You don’t miss the glance she sends your way.

“I have heard of them but never met them.” Sir Echo says after mulling over your friend’s words. “I talked to them shortly after arriving and they seem like cunning warriors. Honorable too. Everyone in town feels safe with them here.”

“Just like we feel safe with the 501st, Echo.” You add with a smile as Sir Echo motions for both of you to lead the way to the dining hall.

“I’m very glad, your Highness.” The lieutenant offers you a nod, the three of you turning a corner on the first floor.

“Do you still have the list of supplies we’re going to need?” You ask him over your shoulder.

“I do,” Sir Echo opens a small pouch on his belt and takes out a folded piece of paper that he hands to you. “I’m sure the Major will make sure we find every item on the list.”

You’re about to speak up again when the three of you make it to the main entrance of the dining hall; it’s a big space with walls and floors made from black stained oak like the rest of the Inn. There’s a big round table in the middle, and two long tables with various foods on display to the sides of the room. Boiled eggs, three kinds of bread, an assortment of pastries and many fruits are presented in silver platters to choose from. There are also cheeses and cold cuts of meat next to some grilled vegetables, ale, tea and coffee. You walk through the door with your two friends in tow and feel your face burn when everyone rises from their seats despite your protest.

“Please, it’s fine. No need to stand.” You assure the knights and the Major with a smile, holding both of your hands in front of you.

The Major shakes his head and laughs. “Nonsense! We were expecting you. Please grab some breakfast and join us, there’s plenty for everyone.”

You nod your head in thanks and approach him to shake his hand. “Mr. Hugh thank you for your hospitality and generosity. You’ve offered a very comfortable room, and I’m sure the 501st is more than happy with the food you’ve provided.”

“There are no thanks needed, your Highness.” He dismisses your words with another wave of his hand. “Now please, help yourselves before we begin. I imagine you and your crew need a good meal after the tumultuous trip you’ve had.”

The pace of the day picks up after breakfast, when you’re shown around town while gathering the supplies Liana is in need for. Right outside of the Inn, the road splits into two smaller walkways. They round the chapel and meet towards the back of it, snaking around the village until it reaches the villagers’ cottages and farms. Major Hugh leads the way followed by Nathalia and yourself. Behind you, Sir Echo talks to Sergeant Hunter as him and the rest of his legion accompany you on your journey across the village.

You can’t help your smile as you walk around Greymoon’s streets; their village is a colourful wonder of pastel storefronts and hand-painted murals. Everywhere you go, you get yet further proof of the village’s hospitality and easygoing nature. There are lovely stores, some displaying clothes, others displaying antiques and you can’t help yourself from stopping by each one. Not to get anything for yourself though, you merely peruse their beautiful goods and compliment the owners on their job. Maybe one day, in the future, you’ll come back to the dressmaker’s shop and indulge her into making the dress she tried to convince you to get. You come across a lovely small street market that’s been set up by a bookshop with a yellow front door. There are several stands selling various goods –jewelry, paintings, accessories, and pastries are on display for anyone who passes by to see. You greet the vendors, who are more than happy to show you the goods of their own making.

“Made all of these myself!” A dark-haired woman named Laura tells you proudly; she owns a knitwear stand. “Please, your Highness, take whichever scarf you’d like. Winter’s coming and any of these would look lovely on you.”

Her eyes shine with excitement, and you can see how proud she is of her handiwork. Thus, not wanting to insult her by refusing her kind offer, you nod your head and smile at her. “Alright, Laura. If you insist, I’ll take whichever one you like best.”

She laughs in delight and nods her head enthusiastically. “Of course, Princess. This one would look lovely on you.”

Laura hands you a deep burgundy scarf, it has with pink and gold details resembling a bed of roses. Flowers, perfect. You smile and clutch the scarf to your chest. “I love it and shall wear it all through winter.”

“I’m honoured, your Highness.” She offers you her hand which you shake. “Thank you for stopping by.”

“Thank you, Laura.” You say as you let go of her hand, knowing you need to keep going towards your next stop. “Have a lovely day.”

The next stop turns into another, and another, until sunset comes, and you’ve crossed out all the items on the list. Both carriages you brought from the palace are loaded with the help of the 501st and Sir Wrecker from the 99th legion and put in one of Greymoon’s stables. Sir Echo then stations five of his men to keep guard of the supplies despite the Major and Sergeant Hunter’s reassurances to him that it’s not necessary. Echo became lieutenant under Rex’s tutelage though, so just like your captain, he’s not one to leave anything to chance. The thought brings a wave of emotion straight towards your chest that you push away until later –there is not time to deal with it right now. Crosshair from the 99th legion stays behind as well, his bow and arrows ready should he need them. You hope it won’t come to that though, the first part of your journey was arduous enough, the last thing you need is an ambush or more trouble.

You’re just finishing talking to the knights who are staying at the stables, letting them know you’ll send dinner their way in a moment when someone clears their throat behind you.

“Your Highness.” Sergeant Hunter inclines his head briefly in greeting. “If you’d like more protection in your journey to Liana, my squad would be more than happy to join the 501st.”

“That is very kind of you.” You smile, moved by his offering. However, you know that taking him and his squad away from Greymoon would be a mistake. So you tell him them the same thing you told Rex before the mission. “But they need you here, Sergeant. With the way things are, it is important that the people of Greymoon are well protected.”

The Sergeant nods, looking back at his team that continues to talk animatedly with the knights from the palace. “I guess you’re right.” He says after a pause, his eyes going back to yours. “We’ll be here if you need us though, your Highness. You can count on us.”

“I’m sure I can, Sergeant.” You nod.

You feel someone tap your shoulder and turn to find Nathalia waiting to speak to you. “The Major is expecting us in the meeting hall, your Highness, they’ve served dinner already.”

“Here, I’ll show you to the meeting hall.” The Sergeant speaks up before leading the way, his back towards both of you. “It’s not far.”

The walk towards the meeting hall is relatively short, only a couple of blocks from the stables and next to the chapel in the middle of the village. It is a two-story building made from concrete, with floor-to-ceiling wooden doors that are already open when you arrive. Inside, there are three long wooden tables in the middle of the room with various dishes displayed in silverware; the people of Greymoon talk animatedly across each table, waiting for the moment they can start feasting on the food. Towards the back of the room there’s a big chimney where a large fire has been lit to warm up the room in the cold night. Major Hugh sits in the middle table and stands when he spots you, Nathalia, his own legion, and the 501st arrive. Everyone follows his lead and stands too, smiling and greeting you again as you pass by.

“We’ve prepared a delicious feast for you and your knights, your Highness.” Mr. Hugh tells you, gesturing towards the food that’s been placed on each table. “Help yourselves, please.”

“Thank you, Mr. Hugh.” You smile, full of gratefulness. “Might we have some of it sent to the knights who stayed behind in the stables?”

“Why of course.” He reassures you quickly, motioning towards two men to approach the table. They greet you when they step closer, smiling amiably. “Joseph, Michael, would you mind taking some food to the men guarding the stables? Some ale as well.”

“Certainly Mr. Hugh.” One of the men, Joseph, nods before he leaves with his friend towards the table next to yours; they gather plates, utensils and food with the help of another gentleman before they make their way out of the hall.

“Now, your Highness.” The Major says, settling down on his seat. “It’s been a long day, you should sit and enjoy dinner.”

Nathalia smiles at the Major. “I must say I agree with you Mr. Hugh.”

You hold back an eye-roll –a fond one– towards Nathalia and nod. You know her care, and that of Sir Echo, during this trip has doubled in its intensity most likely as a result of Rex’s emphasis on it. You wonder when he spoke to them both; you’ll have to ask him when you’re able. Who knows when that’ll be. With a shake of your head, you wipe off the frown that wants to settle on your face and sit down, looking at Greymoon’s local food with a newly opened appetite.

There are three kinds of roasted meats in front of you, and various side dishes and finger foods. Some of them you recognize from the palace, being Khalmian staples for every meal, but others are intricate savory pastries. There are small pockets of fried dough, that after cutting them in half you discovered have either cheese or a mixture of spices and vegetables inside. There’s a green leaves salad with edible flowers, walnuts and a dark but sweet dressing. Next there’s a big bowl of rice that’s been mixed with sweet corn and cheese, giving it a soft and almost creamy texture. Lastly, there’s a long silver tray full of miniature desserts of which Nathalia takes about three of each. There are bite-sized chocolate cakes, fruit tarts, pistachio and chocolate madeleines, and apricot ice cream that everyone grabs a helping of despite the chilly weather of the night.

The copious amount of food disappears after an hour with lively conversation and laughter in between bites. Your heart soars at the sight of all the knights enjoying themselves despite their bandages and cuts they brandish on their faces and hands. It’s a merry sight, one you haven’t seen often as it is only the third time you’ve shared a meal with so many of the 501st. The Queen will certainly object, but nevertheless you’ll invite them to dine with you when you’re back at the palace. Rex will be ecstatic when he hears your idea. As the food disappears and conversations are had, the loud chatter of the meeting hall slowly turns into a low hum. The satisfying meal makes way for drowsiness to kick in, and you find yourself pressing your lips together to hold back a yawn.

Thus, knowing your fellow companions must be all the more tired than yourself, you thank the Major and bid him goodnight. After all, everyone has a big day ahead of them in the morning.

“It was a lovely day, and an even lovelier evening, Mr. Hugh.” You smile warmly at him as everyone rises from the tables and begin to walk out of the meeting hall.

“I’m glad it was to your liking, your Highness.” The Major presses a hand to his chest. “It truly means the world to us that you’ve visited us.”

“Then I hope you’re okay with me returning in the future.” You tell him with a hand on his shoulder. “Have a good night.”

“Your Highness.” The Major inclines his head once more before leaving the hall as well.

Sir Echo and Nathalia are back by your side a moment later. “We will reach Liana by early afternoon, tomorrow.” The Lieutenant says.

You nod, pleased that things are going just as planned. “Right on schedule then. You should get some rest Sir Echo; you’ve worked very hard today.”

“You need some sleep too, your Highness.” Nathalia says as she links her arm with yours. She smiles at Sir Echo so briefly you almost miss it, though the red tint to her cheeks remains as evidence that the smile did in fact happen. “Goodnight, Lieutenant. We’ll see you in the morning.”

“Until morning then.” Sir Echo tells you, though you don’t get to say anything in return as Nathalia whisks you off towards the Inn with hurried steps.

✧☆★✧☆★

“You’ve made all the village fall in love with you.” Nathalia says happily, helping you loosen your braids and ponytail after you’re done taking a short bath. Refreshed and comfortable in your sleeping gown, you can feel the exhaustion of the day makes an appearance with a heaviness to your body.

You chuckle softly and shake your head. “That’s not true, Nat. Everyone was just happy to help Liana, and I was getting to know them.”

“And that is my point, your Highness.” Nathalia insists, brushing your hair with a wide-tooth comb and twisting it into a simple braid for you to sleep in. “Not many people get to know the villages in their kingdom, but you did. You cared because you are kind and gentle with everyone and it is that what won their hearts.”

You look away and shrug your shoulder, it seems like such a simple thing to you, and it causes a subdued sort of pain to surface on your chest. The bare minimum shouldn’t be surprising or ground-breaking to this village, but sadly it is and the only thing you can do is begin to break this habit the moment you’re back at the palace. For now, your priority is Liana and finishing the mission. “Of course, I care about them. I hope I can get to visit and know all the villages around us when the war with the pirates is over.”

“And we can’t forget to mention your beauty, your Highness, yet another reason for them to fall in love.” Nathalia smiles as she ties up the braid with a ribbon at the bottom. “I saw Sergeant Hunter’s eyes never leaving you.”

Despite Nathalia mentioning the Sergeant, your mind goes to Rex. It makes a smile appear on your face as you look down at your lap. Flashes of all the instances you’ve caught him looking at you from afar come to mind; he’d been so flustered at the beginning. But now his demeanour is entirely different. Now he looks at you openly when it’s just the two of you, not a bit of bashfulness in sight. “The Sergeant wasn’t looking at me.” You shake your head, sending a look at Nathalia in the mirror. “If he did, then it was only because he doesn’t know my heart’s already spoken for.”

“I’m sure Sir Echo will tell him something along those lines without giving you and captain Rex away.” Nathalia chuckles and steps away from your chair, moving to blow out some of the candles lit around the room. There’s a full moon outside, and its white glow is enough to keep the room illuminated.

You smile as you stand; Nathalia just handed you the perfect opportunity to tease her right back. “Speaking of Lieutenant Echo…”

Nathalia pauses her steps towards the candelabra by the window and glances at you over her shoulder. You wiggle your eyebrows at her and smile teasingly as she turns a deep shade of red. “I saw that smile earlier tonight, and you’re so flustered around him. I don’t know how I’ve never noticed how smitten you’re with him!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about your Highness.” Nathalia looks away with a shrug, then looks back at you out of the corner of her eye. She knows you’re not fooled by her dismissal.

You merely raise an eyebrow, a knowing smile on your face. She teased you so much when you were falling for Rex. Thus, now as her best friend, it is only fair that you do the same.

“Alright, I like Sir Echo.” She confesses, fighting back a smile. “A lot. More than a lot.”

“So, a lot-a lot.” You smile widely at her, sitting on your bed as delight shoves whatever sleepiness you were feeling away for a moment. Your heart feels like it’s bursting as you observe Nat looking so bashful, so happy. “Have you talked to him? Casual conversation? Anything?”

She frowns. “No, I get too nervous.”

You smile, maybe you’ll talk to Sir Echo….

“You should! Sir Echo is very approachable, so you have nothing to be worried about.” You reassure her, hoping she’ll take the leap. Perhaps this is the beginning of her own fairy-tale, the thought alone makes your smile widen.

Nathalia is quick to shake her head, and you frown. “He’s one to follow rules your Highness. I doubt talking to me about his day is part of protocol.”

“Nathalia.” You raise your eyebrow at her again. “There’s no one stricter about protocol than Rex and he kissed me like he couldn’t bear not to, 2 days ago!”

When your friend remains looking unsure, you continue. “Sir Echo isn’t even that strict to begin with. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to talk to you.”

“You really think so?” She whispers, hopefulness slowly beginning to shine in her eyes.

“Of course! You’re a ray of sunshine and a delight to be around Nat.”

Nathalia flushes again then looks away shyly. “I guess you’re right. I will try to tomorrow, while we head to Liana.”

“He’ll appreciate your conversation.” You nod your head before you move towards the center of the bed to lie down. “But right now, we need some rest.”

Nathalia nods and remains deep in thought even as she gets on the other bed beside yours. “Thank you, your Highness.”

“That’s what friends are for, Nat” You tell her, getting comfortable on the bed before blowing out the candles on your bedside table. “Sleep well.”

✧☆★✧☆★

The next day you wake up bright and early to get ready. A deep burgundy dress that you picked out the night before is your attire for the day. It has pale blue and gold details embroidered on the fabric, though most of them get lost under the chainmail blouse that you wear over your dress. Your boots and a pair of black pants hidden underneath your dress complete your look, and soon you’re helping Nathalia and Sir Dogma carry the luggage downstairs and towards the main road where the rest of the 501st awaits. The four carriages stocked full of supplies the night before have been attached to two horses each, with one soldier taking the reins and another flanking the back. As you approach you notice Sir Echo taking inventory of the supplies and counting his men before he lets everyone know you’re ready to leave. Fifteen minutes later, after you’ve said goodbye to the Major, the villagers, and the 99th legion, you put on your helmet and get on your horse.

Greymoon’s gates close as you leave; the colourful village stays behind while your carriages head south, ready to deliver some much-needed aid.

Most of the day is spent on horseback, with only a short break for a meal, for everyone is set on arriving to Liana before sundown to avoid another ambush, if any. This time though, there is no worry or nervous anticipation, not like upon your arrival to Greymoon a day ago. As you did the day before, two riders are sent ahead of you once more to let the Major of Liana know you’re on your way; they were also instructed to scout the area. An unnecessary precaution, but one Sir Echo insisted on despite the terrain you’ll be traversing through. They don’t give you much to worry about this time around, as most of the eastern road towards Liana –the one you’ve selected for the journey– crosses through hills and plains and nothing more. There are no forests or rivers, for attackers to hide in. If an attack were to occur, you’d see it coming in the distance, giving you enough time to react.

Thus, you decide to the enjoy the beautiful journey and take in the breathtaking landscape to your left and right. Midnight trots steadily next to Sir Kix’s horse as you ask him about his medical studies, to give Nathalia the necessary push to converse with the Lieutenant. They talk amiably behind you as Sir Kix recalls anecdotes from his early days as a medic –I wasn’t good under pressure at the beginning, your Highness, he says, it has taken years of practice. You nod and ask him yet another question, and the conversation keeps going for a couple of hours. Then, when the sun slowly begins to advance west, a comforting calmness settles over the group. You’re bordering two mountains that stand next to Green Lake, a majestic body of water –with water so deep-a-blue that it looks a dark green colour. The silence is almost reverent as everyone stares in awe at the nature that surrounds you; the tall mountains, the expansive lake, and the hills full of lavender up ahead. You cross the latter, surrounded by the lilac flowers, until at long last you see the Khalmian sea in the distance and the village you’re on your way to aid, both bathed in orange light.

Liana stands beautifully at the bottom of a hill next to the sea, it’s topography vastly different from the village you just visited. Where Greymoon had its chapel and meeting hall in the middle of their village, Liana –despite being small– has its chapel at the very top of the hill. Its streets and many other buildings expand downhill towards the sea, its streets connected by staircases. In the distance you can see the slender pine trees surrounding the village, as well as bushes and more lavender around its perimeter. Most of the buildings are made of gold-yellow stone and clay, with terracotta roofs and white shutters on their windows. It looks rustic but elegant at the same time, and you’re sure the three colours must stand out beautifully next to the sea when it’s not time for the sun to set. Now, however, in the orange light of the fading afternoon the Khalmian sea looks like it’s turned a shade close to red while Liana looks like it’s burning with the sun –warm, beautiful, and welcoming.

The village greets you with a small celebration as you arrive. There are villagers lining the streets, waving and cheering as you pass, and you take off your helmet to smile at all of them in return. You continue down the main road until you reach the village’s courtyard, where the Major is waiting for you. She’s a woman in her mid-forties with gorgeous brown skin and chestnut coloured hair that’s been pulled up in an intricate updo. The wrinkles around the woman’s eyes deepen as she smiles, and the details of the green dress she wears shines in the orange light of the setting sun. There are tears in her eyes that she dries gently as you get off your horse and approach her.

“Madame Major.” You smile, offering her your hand.

“Thank you, your Highness, for your kind heart.” She pulls you into a hug shortly after shaking your it, her words whispered by your shoulder. The emotion in her voice as she continues to speak makes your throat tighten and your eyes sting with unshed tears. “Thank you for helping us; we are overjoyed and overwhelmed with gratefulness.”

You shake your head and dab at your eyes as you step back and look at her. These lovely people have been through so much; their possessions stolen, many of them injured from attempting to defend what’s theirs. All resulting from the selfishness and cruelty of the pirates who want things the easy way. Those who think these people’s sacrifice and hard work is worth nothing and inconsiderately steal from them. “Don’t thank me, this is the least I could do for all of you. I’m sorry we took this long.”

“The important thing is you’re here your Highness.” She grabs both of your hands in hers and smiles widely, it lights up her face. “Come, the town has been looking forward to your arrival all day.”

The smile you give back is just as big as you nod. “We’ve been excited to arrive and meet all of you.”

“Everyone is impatient to meet you.” She lets one of your hands go as she begins to walk towards the people who line the streets. “And with these supplies we can make a lovely dinner to welcome you.”

You look back a Nathalia who smiles at you and takes the hand you offer as the Major leads you further into the village. The sun sets as you walk around the streets, happily greeting the people of Liana even as your heart feels like it’ll burst from the overwhelming emotion you feel when you see the gratefulness in their eyes. Music begins playing from the meeting hall then, as blue hour strikes and lavender blue haze falls over the joyous town.

At one point a cheerful old lady leads you to the back of the meeting hall, where a large communal kitchen’s been set up and shows you and Nathalia the many goods they’re beginning to prepare for the night. The soldiers from the 501st helping around to place the vegetables and grains you’ve brought from Greymoon inside the pantry. You smile and wave at them as they pass and they smile back, elated with the energy around the town. The soldiers leave after a moment, content with the promise of a delicious meal prepared by the local cooks in the next hour. The same old lady who grabbed your hand earlier gestures for you to join them at a big wooden table.

There are various types of doughs and fillings, as well as breads and vegetables, all ready to be part of the local dishes they wish to show you how to make. So, after washing your hands, you learn how to make local finger food with Nathalia by your side. Most of the dishes are straight forward: rolled dough closed around a feeling and set aside to fry later. The women around the table are more skilled than you though, and you can’t help but laugh at the time it takes you to make a simple snack while they’ve already made close to ten. Still, you relax and listen carefully to their instructions and funny stories from when they started to cook. A sense of warmth and calmness settles over you, and a glance to your right shows you Nathalia is feeling the same way. The two of you smile and continue to work.

Once dinner arrives, the bustling crowd, music and chatter threaten to drown every conversation you begin to have but your smile never falters, you merely raise your voice and lean closer to the person you’re speaking to –the Major in this case. The finger food you helped prepare is passed around as everyone serves some of the dinner into plates and settles on any table to eat. The 501st talk and laugh animatedly with the town and Nathalia engages in easy conversation with Sir Echo next to you.

“The Princess and I made these!” Nathalia’s eyes light up as she spots a platter with the fried dough you struggled with earlier. “Lieutenant you’ve got to try them.”

“Everyone is so cheerful.” You tell the Major as you look around. “And your village is so beautiful, Madame. I’m speechless.”

The Major smiles and takes a sip from her goblet of wine. “They’re people with a strong spirit. Despite everything that happened, they managed to stay uplifted.”

You hum and look around, seeing the sparkle in the eyes of every villager. “That’s beautiful.”

“It’s not an easy thing to do.” The Major continues. “It is so easy to let ourselves be beaten down after something terrible that happens, but sometimes looking at what’s gone right is all it takes to change one’s mood.”

“Well, I certainly need to learn from them.” You chuckle and sip from your own goblet before a little girl approaches your table.

“H–Hi Princess.” She smiles shyly at you, and you instantly smile back.

“Hey baby girl, what’s your name?”

“Anna.” Her cheeks flush as she looks down at her hands. “Would you like to play with us?”

Your heart squeezes, and a quick glance behind her back shows you there are about a dozen children waiting for your answer. “Why, of course I’d love to!”

Anna’s face lights up, her shyness forgotten at your welcoming tone. She quickly grabs your hand. “Let’s go! You can invite your friends if you’d like.”

You laugh softly and rise from the table, calling out to Nathalia and the 501st as you do. “If anyone would like to join us for a game outside, feel free to come!”

Nathalia stands up and follows you, an excited skip to her step, before Hardcase, Echo, Dogma, Mixer, Kix, and Fox follow her lead. Outside, the kids have set up two goal posts and proceed to divide everyone into two teams. The goal? Kick the ball and score a point, the team who scores 5 goals wins. Little Anna ends up in your team and her contagious laugh trails everyone in your team as she follows you while you try to evade your rivals to reach the other goal post. Laughter, screaming and wrestling ensues –though you don’t participate in the latter, instead letting Hardcase and Fox engage in friendly roughhousing every time the other wins– until Sir Echo’s team wins and the kids are called to bed.

Madame Major, amused by the game she just witnessed and reading the exhaustion on both yours and Nathalia’s faces, leads you to the cottage you’ll be staying at. It is a lovely white house with climbing pink hydrangeas on the front. The house itself is two stories tall; it has two bedrooms upstairs and a living room and kitchen on the ground floor. Sir Echo stations three soldiers to protect you and they make themselves comfortable in the living room, lounging on the couch and taking off some of their heavy armour. Your luggage is carried to your room as well as Nathalia’s on the other side of the hallway. There’s an adjacent bathing chamber in each bedroom, with its private door and closet to place your clothes in, as well as a mirror and a small furnace for hot water supply. You thank the knights who carried your luggage upstairs before taking in the room.

It is a rustic chamber with contrasting delicate decorations. There are pale blue curtains framing the floor-to-ceiling window, and floral embroidered blankets and throw pillows on the bed. The bed itself is tall with four posters and a soft mattress, and to its left stands a small balcony overlooking the Khalmian sea illuminated by moonlight. It’s cozy, private, and the prospect of resting after the events of the evening makes you rush to open your luggage and look for your clothes.

You move towards the bathroom after picking out your clothes for the night; the chamber’s colour is the same as the one in the bedroom with golden yellow walls and light blue decorations. A moment later, once you make sure the furnace is working, you fill up the porcelain tub and undress not before taking off the bandage covering your injury. The cold evening air makes your naked body shiver for a few seconds before you step on the tub and sink into the water. A sigh escapes you as your muscles begin to relax and your achy feet thank you for the warm water. Heaven, you think.

Closing your eyes, you lean your head back and begin washing your hair —hissing at the pain in your hand— as you think about the events of the day. There’s deep regret in your heart at not visiting Liana before the attack happened and missing out on all its beautiful and welcoming people. It isn’t something you’re going to miss out on anymore, you decide; you’re more than sure other villages in the kingdom that haven’t been visited by your father in a while either. Though you always look after their best interests you’ve never been to many of them, now you’re determined to travel around Khalmia and listen to the people to provide whatever aid they may need that’s been lost in paperwork or mail. After the war is over, you’ll ask Rex to accompany you so both of you can visit and know more about Khalmia together. You’re certain he’ll be more than happy to and that he will love Liana most of all. Bringing your thoughts back to the village you’re, you feel a smile appear on your face again at the memory of the warm welcome you received. Not to mention the beautiful view of the sea and the delicious food you’d tried. Wouldn’t this village profit from more visitors; you know they had an Inn before the attack and given what you saw today you can only assume the boardwalk was beautiful as well. You haven’t seen the destruction the pirates left behind, but once you do you will ask the Major why Liana hasn’t been a holiday site for the Kingdom.

Wrapping a towel around your hair and drying your body once the soapy water has gone from hot to lukewarm, you get dressed in your night gown, followed by a purple dressing gown you tie around your waist. You brush your teeth in front of the mirror before going back to the bedroom where Nathalia’s already waiting for you in her own nightgown and robe. She looks refreshed and happy.

“You were wonderful with the children, your Highness.” Nat smiles at your reflection once you sit down at the vanity in front of the bed. Your friend helps you dry your hair with your towel before combing through it.

You look down in embarrassment, grabbing some of your nightly pomade and applying it to your face that burns at her words. “They were very amiable don’t you think? There are barely any children in the family, or in the Estates we visit sometimes. It was nice to have that kind of genuine happiness around don’t you think?”

“Yes, it was. Even though we lost to the opposing team –the knights won’t let us forget it.” Nathalia agrees, grabbing her mixture of coconut and argan oil to apply to your hair while you wrap a new bandage around the cut in your hand. “I also think you and Rex will be the best parents when you have children of your own. You are perfect for each other, a good team.”

“We need to get our relationship approved first, Nat.” You smile at her enthusiasm and look away as you go over Natalia’s words.

It’s not something you’ve discussed with Rex, as your relationship doesn’t have any approval yet to make such kinds of plans. But you wonder if your father will share Nathalia’s sentiments towards the two of you. Will he see you as a good team as well, or will he object? You see truth to Nathalia’s words yourself; you and Rex provide each other a perfect kind of balance. He, a man of duty and protocol and strength, and you, an equally strong but more emotional counterpart. He teaches you what you need to face the tough world you live in while you teach him to slow down and enjoy the little things and fleeting moments that will mean so much in the future.

Nathalia’s yawn brings you back to the present and you chuckle at the sleepy look on her face. “It’s been a long day, Nat. Why don’t you go rest? I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Are you sure you don’t need anything else, your Highness?” She asks after wrapping your hair in a cotton cloth for it to dry overnight.

With a shake of your head, you reassure her that you’re okay and she smiles before bidding you goodnight. After standing from your seat, you walk over to the small balcony in your room and look across towards the Khalmian sea, allowing the breeze to soothe a wave of anxiety that floods your chest. You wonder how your father is right now, how Rex is too. Have the pirates attacked yet? Did the other kingdoms arrive in time with their aid?

They are okay, you decide. Rex is okay. There’s no reason to believe otherwise, you don’t need to send such negativity his way. No, he’ll be fine, he’s a great warrior, the most cunning one you know. Brave and strong, fearless, and smart. You’ve seen him train for years, first from afar when he wasn’t looking and later front and center in the courtyard when it was useless to hide your affection for him; he’d read it all in your letters. He’s trained his men just as fiercely, even when there was no danger to prepare for.

We need to be ready to defend you and the palace, my lady, no time to lose, He’d said when you asked him why they trained every day; you’d passed him a glass of water and tried very hard not to look at the open collar of his shirt that day. Every knight in the 501st is trained to do their best and think of the best strategy for success, so you have nothing to worry about. Your father, Rex, and your friends fighting in the Turquoise Sea will be more than alright.

A strong breeze makes you shiver, and a wave of homesickness seems to make its way to you from the sea. On the one hand, it’s good that you’ve been too tired and too busy lately to be alone with your thoughts. But on the other hand, you’ve only delayed the inevitable. It isn’t the first time you’ve been away from home, and you’ve never been alone –Nat is always by your side– but for the first time, there is too much uncertainty upon your return. The palace will be mostly empty, the King will be away, your captain too. Most of the anxiety you felt days ago had more to do with being apart from each other than the danger you could potentially face in the journey. You’ve never been apart for so long and now your heart is begging for you to acknowledge your feelings. You miss Rex. You miss him so much that you’d rather stay busy than let yourself think about his absence and be overwhelmed by sadness.

He’s been your constant for years; the one person that even from across the room, can bring you comfort like no other. His eyes know you, understand you, they bring you home. A home that’s him. Which makes thinking about going back to the palace –without Rex– sad and not comforting at all. No, the homesickness you’re feeling is tied more to the one you love than to a specific place, not even the garden would soothe it. There’s really nothing you want more –and it’s foolish to even think about it– than to have Rex wrap his arms around you and hold you while your tired body falls asleep.

Soon. Not the falling asleep next to him, but knowing his presence is near you. The war will be over one way or another, and you trust your captain to come back to you unharmed. You’ll have your strolls around the garden, he’ll join you for tea and any affairs you might have to attend to. You’ll engage in deep conversation, you’ll laugh, you’ll be happy. He’d told you he would come back, and Rex is a man of his word. Thus, with that peace of mind, you close and lock the balcony’s door before moving to lie on the bed; the soft mattress and duvet welcome you as you sigh in relief. Sleep takes you hostage almost immediately, bringing you to a blurry dream of a white gown, a garden and a familiar face smiling at you.

The next day, after everyone has breakfast, the major shows you to the site where all the destruction happened. Most of the damage took place along the boardwalk, which was set on fire that night, and the adjacent houses and buildings. Just like Commander Cody had reported during the King’s meeting, two houses, the barn, and the bank suffered terrible damage. Your mind supplies the memory of the kids you played with the night before, and an overwhelming sense of relief goes through you at once. At least no one was gravely hurt or killed. At least the kids weren’t around.

It tears your heart in half, looking the scorch marks left by the fire, the ashes lying on the floor where the barn used to stand, the empty space where the boardwalk should be. All the pirates’ targets where buildings made from wood, unlike the rest of the village that’s made from cobblestone. How can there be people so vile? So cruel as to plan something that would make this village’s efforts disappear in an instant? You wonder as you brush away your tears, eyebrows meeting in the middle as anger threatens to take over you. Why are there people so evil in this world that harm innocents out of mere spite? Your thoughts are bitter, you can’t deny it, but looking at the destruction first-hand lights up a flame of protectiveness in your heart.

A protectiveness that quickly upsets you, until you spot the people of Liana who are still cleaning up the ashes and debris of the boardwalk. Further up the road there are three locksmiths setting up a workshop in front of the bank to make a new door for the vault. It soothes your incensed emotions until slowly the crease between your eyebrows disappears. The anger you felt fades, and though your heartache stays, you feel more hopeful than a few moments ago. People can be cruel but there are also good, kind-hearted, and generous people. People who like to help. Those who balance out the world. With a deep breath, you bring yourself back to the present moment, and voice the question you asked to yourself the night before.

“If I may ask,” you begin with a glance to the Major who walks alongside you and Nathalia. She smiles and urges you to continue. “Why isn’t Liana a main village visitors go to in Khalmia? Your village is absolutely beautiful, the Khalmian sea is right in front of you. Your people and your gastronomy are wonderful. Yet it’s not a village most people visit.”

The Major sighs and points to the western side of the village. “That’s the road you took to the village yesterday. It is the longest, and it’s not often used. There is another one on the eastern side, and visitors used to like it because you don’t have to camp on the way, and it has direct access to the main road between the kingdoms. However… it hasn’t been safe for a while. There are bandits who like to scout the area and rob anyone who would like to visit; they think the visitors will have wealthy possessions because they’re on holiday.”

At your frown she shrugs her shoulders. “The road has been neglected for a long time because of this, and everyone is afraid to go and fix it.”

You sigh, shake your head; out of the corner of your eye you see Nathalia do the same next to you. It is no wonder Greymoon is frequented more often, they have the 99th legion who protect the roads and the people from instances like this one. The memory of the five knights is all you need to come up with a plan of action.

“When I go back and the captains and commanders are back from the war, I will ask them to create a legion of knights for Liana, just like the one they have in Greymoon.” You tell the Major, pausing your walk to reassure her. “It can include palace knights as well as any men who would like to be a knight for your village. Does that sound like something you’d be interested in?”

The Majors eyes light up as she nods. “That sound like a wonderful idea, your Highness. I’m certain that with more protection, things would be much different here for us. Especially the children.”

“You will have the safety you need; I promise.” You offer your hand for her to shake. “And those bandits will be taken care of.”

It’ll be your first order of business when you get back home, King’s approval or not, the bandits will be the first to be stopped. Afterwards, once Captain Rex is back, you’ll tell him about your idea for a Legion to protect Liana. You’re sure he’ll be more than happy to help you.

The three of you continue walking in silence, greeting the people and the knights who are helping to clean up the debris before you turn to the Major again. “What would you like to see in your village to make it more comfortable for visitors?”

“I think the Inn is what needs the most adjustments.” She tells you, pointing up at the street above to show you the three-story stone building. It’s been painted white with turquoise and yellow details, but the paint is chipping, the windows aren’t in good condition and a part of the roof looks like it’s seen better days.

“It’s expensive to maintain,” The Major explains, “But with more visitors it wouldn’t be. As you can see, it needs repairs and some refurbishments to the bedrooms and bathing chambers.”

You nod and turn, looking back at the boardwalk. “I imagine the boardwalk too, as it needs to be completely redone.”

“Maybe we’ll build it in cobblestone this time, like the rest of the village.” The Major smiles.

“It’ll definitely be fireproof then.” Nathalia pitches in, making both of you laugh.

“I think stone is a good idea,” You nod.

“If you think it’ll attract visitors when the road is patrolled.” The Major replies. “With the gold you’ve brought for the bank, I’m sure we can get it done.”

“It will most definitely attract visitors; I’ll make sure of it!” You tell her with enthusiasm, with the gossiping going around many of the events you attend it is only a matter of time before this village increases its popularity. That and… “I’m also planning on coming back.”

When the Major sees the honestly in your smile, her eyes light up. “Really, your Highness?”

“Of course.” You nod. “Nathalia, you’d love to come back here, right?”

“Absolutely, your Highness.” Nathalia sighs looking around. “I don’t even want to leave.”

You chuckle as you continue along Main Street and see the jolly mood everyone is in. Happiness makes its way to your heart at the thought that with the supplies you’ve brought for them, the Major will be able to undo the harm the pirates did to them. You don’t tell her though, that you’ll send a team to renovate the Inn, the boardwalk, and the barn as soon as possible. But you will. They were caught in a crossfire between the Kingdom and the pirates; they didn’t deserve this. So you’ll fix whatever needs to, and make this right. You also know you must visit the other villages in the Kingdom. It is imperative that you know what issues and safety concerns aren’t being seen –what your father might have neglected. Though your mother criticizes your emotions and how they sometimes drive your decisions, you don’t feel any shame about it. You need love and empathy when looking at certain things, especially if you want to be of any help.

“Might I see your chapel?” You ask before you can think twice, love taking the reins of your decisions for a split second. Nathalia gasps behind you, shooting you a look of barely contained excitement that makes you laugh.

“Why of course,” The Major smiles. “Right this way. Although I must warn you, we must climb many stairs to get there.”

You laugh at Nathalia’s frown and link your arm with hers. “We can manage that with no problem.”

✧☆★✧☆★

“Okay, I’ll admit this view is worth the climb.” Nathalia says, wiping some sweat from her forehead, and trying to catch her breath.

The early afternoon sun is high in the sky, bathing everything in sunlight, and making the clear water of the Khalmian sea shimmer below. From where you stand, right at the doorstep of the chapel, you have an unobstructed view at the city below, red roofed buildings with their black iron balconies and ceramic pots on windowsills. Pine trees so big the very top is right below the balcony you stand on. You run your hand over the stone; flowers and vines have been carved delicately into it, and there are empty spaces between them that allow light to sneak through. It makes the flowers’ pattern paint the cobblestones with light underneath your shoes. You smile then turn towards the chapel, it’s yellow and orange stone exterior shining with the sun and slowly becoming the home of deep green vines that snake their way from the ground up, halfway to the very top of the building. You’re sure that when spring comes, these vines will be covered in flowers; the thought cements your determination to return to Liana after winter comes and goes.

“Oh.”

Your words are followed by another gasp coming from Nathalia behind you, and you nod in agreement. The cobblestone floor outside, transitions into white polished marble with brown and ochre veining that makes your footsteps echo as you walk. The pillars have golden detailing, intricate vines, flowers, and leaves weaving together under light blue painted stone. The golden detailing settles at the top of each column from which the coved ceiling expands upwards. The dome-like structure above has cherubs, gardens, the Khalmian sea, and the sun all depicted in a breathtaking mural; being biased towards gardens, you decide this mural is more beautiful than the one in your father’s wing back at the palace. Everyone is silent as you take in the rest of the room, the white benches, the light blue carpet extending towards the center of the room and the golden detailing of the altar and big windows on the eastern and western walls –perfect for a sunrise and a sunset. You let your mind wander, putting white carnations, blue delphiums and hydrangeas in around the place, lighting up the candelabra by the walls and in the altar, white and light blue lace decorating the sides of the benches and a long veil with embroidered white flowers dragging along the carpet. A shuddering breath leaves you and you shake those thoughts out of your head –there’s no point in thinking about it. Not when you haven’t talked to your father yet.

So you clear your throat and smile at the Major. “It’s beautiful.”

She nods when she turns to you. “We’re very proud of it. It’s been kept this way for one hundred years.”

“Yet another reason for Liana to have more visitors.” You tell her with a nod. “Don’t you think, Nat?”

“Yes, your Highness.” Your friend smiles at you, a knowing look in her eyes that you ignore for the sake of your heart. “I imagine once people visit Liana, they’re sure to want to get married here.”

You smile and shoot her an amused look before shaking your head; like you said before, those thoughts have no room in your mind right now –you shouldn’t have entertained the idea to begin with. The mission isn’t over yet, and that’s where you must settle your focus on. “Shall we return to the boardwalk, Madame Mayor? Your people need all the help they can get.”

“Of course,” She motions with her hand for you and Nathalia to go ahead. “The journey down is much easier.”

The rest of the day is spent looking at some of the reparations being made, then you go to the store where the farmers usually bought their supplies –before they were looted by the pirates– and begin distributing the seeds to re-plant the crops ruined by the pirates and farming supplies they will need to tend to them until the next harvest. About half of the supplies have been distributed when your heart is moved to tears by a particular farmer, Peter, who brings a small basket with a couple of apples to you, tears in his eyes as he gives you his thanks.

“The only ones left in a lonely tree.” He says wiping his eyes. “They stayed there for you, I’m sure, Princess; to thank you for your kindness to us today.”

You shake your head and give the farmer a hug after taking the basket from him. “There are no thanks needed, this is the least I can do for all of you.”

You let him go and hand him knapsack with supplies, like you’ve done to everyone else in the queue. Tears sting your eyes, but you blink them back, putting a smile on your face instead. “I hope the next harvest is even better than the one you’ve lost.”

With a smile of his own and a nod, Peter says goodbye and walks out the door holding the knapsack to his chest. Next to you Nathalia tries to dry her eyes discreetly with the back of her hand before a white handkerchief is handed to her. You don’t overlook the gentle look on Sir Echo’s face when Nathalia thanks him quietly, or the way her eyes shine as she looks up at him. The display next to you warms your heart even as you look away promptly and pretend you’ve not noticed anything. A discreet smile makes its way to your face though; you’ll have to ask Rex if he’s noticed any feelings the Lieutenant might have towards Nat. You certainly haven’t seen Nat blush in front of Sir Echo before these last couple of days.

What happened that’s made their feelings surface? Perhaps you and your captain will play cupid once he’s back, to see if your friends’ feelings are requited or not. Once he’s back, you tell yourself with a shake your head. With a deep breath and one last glance at Nathalia, you bring your focus back to the matter at hand and the distribution of the necessary supplies to the farmers still queuing in front of you. There’s still much to do until your departure in the morning, you have no time to waste.

✧☆★✧☆★

After almost 30 days at sea, the war with the pirates finally has an end in sight and Rex is thankful. It has a been a brutal fight —the still aching wound on his side a painful reminder— but thanks to Khalmia’s strategy and carefully planned attacks, most of the casualties were on the enemies’ side. The help received by the Kingdoms of Mezeron, Amarant and Chelsia became of utmost importance and allowed Khalmia to turn the tide in their favour, bringing the pirates to their knees. Literally, as the pirates on the ships they are currently surrounding kneel and raise their hands in surrender. All of them abandoning the fight and leaving their leader –pirate captain Thorne– defenseless for the arrival of commander Cody, Wolffe and Rex himself to ambush his ship. Fives, Jesse and 10 more soldiers who accompany Rex are quick to climb aboard the enemy ship and arrest what little remaining crew Thorne has left. The crew fights through their arrest but Rex can tell their heart is not in it, they have given up.

Glancing away from them, Rex looks at the Turquoise sea that extends left and right. He also spots the King’s ship anchored close to the shore, where he awaits the pirate captain for his sentence. Rex knows it won’t be a light one, as the life of the princess was endangered by the pirate’s plan. Give him hell, your Majesty, Rex thinks to himself, no one hurts the princess. My princess. Cody and Wolffe raise their blades the moment the pirate steps out of his study, bringing Rex back to the present. Captain Thorne is a short man with a strong build and a balding spot in the middle his head. Like the other pirates, there are two braids on his beard, each of them showing off a tooth that Rex still isn’t if they’re his own. The pirate dresses in all black –except for his red vest and matching utility belt– the clothes made from a leathery material and covered in steel studs. Thorne’s face, which is sunburnt and flaking– remains calm and confident despite the situation he’s in, and for some reason it makes Rex and his two friends bristle with anger.

“On your knees.” Rex orders, his voice almost a growl as his hatred towards the man in front of him comes to the forefront of his mind. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Your choice.”

Thorne chuckles and unsheathes his blade, charging at the three of them without a moment of thought. Rex takes his own two blades out and readies his stance as the two commanders intercept the pirate before him The sound of blades clashing together –metal colliding with metal– floods the deck. Thorne strikes high and low at Wolffe, then turns and blocks Cody’s blade just in time. A moment later he ducks to dodge Wolffe’s blade and kicks Cody’s legs from under him. In an instant, Rex steps in to block his strikes, having the advantage of being trained with two blades, something Thorne doesn’t know what to do with. Rex should have known that the pirate would choose to go the hard way; what pirates lack in morals and virtue they make up on ego. Thorne recovers quick enough to turn and block every strike sent his way –fighting even though he is a lost cause– but Rex, Wolffe and Cody have fought beside each other for so long that their fight ends very shortly after it starts. The pirate’s sword is knocked out of his hand before the wind gets knocked out of him by Cody’s fist and he’s shoved to his knees by Wolffe’s strength.

Rex cuffs Thorne’s hands in front of him, tight enough that they’re uncomfortable, before he rises and looks down at the pirate through the gap in his helmet. “You’re under arrest for pillaging, assault, treason to the Kingdom, attempted kidnapping, looting, and murder. The King will decide your sentence.”

“So, you’re captain Rex, of the 501st legion.” The pirate chuckles and tilts his head to the right, unfazed by all the charges and what they mean for him. For his life. “You’re the one who thwarted my plan of abducting the princess.”

“The princess thwarted your plans herself.” Rex tells him curtly, sheathing one of his swords and tightening the grip on the other one. He remembers your sprained wrist, the cut in your arm, your bruised hand and your body shaking out of fear; his frown deepens. You’d been so hurt and so afraid, and the man in front of Rex is the one responsible for it.

“But you trained her.” Thorne narrows his eyes at him, searching for something, before shrugging and looking away. “It’s a shame though, she would’ve been a real asset.”

Rex feels his blood boil at the word asset. To everyone else I’m the King’s fortune and land in a pretty dress, you said to him one day at the garden. It had upset him beyond words despite your request to ignore other people’s thoughts. To hear this pirate, have the same thoughts you’ve had to grow comfortable with, fans a flame of anger inside Rex’s chest before he can help it. He raises his sword and places the sharp blade under Thorne’s chin.

“You will not talk about her Highness in such a way.” Rex growls, “You’re lucky we’re bringing you to the King alive.” He turns and begins walking ahead without another word, as Cody and Wolffe manhandle the pirate into a standing position and follow.

“Ah yes, the King of Khalmia. He would have done my bidding if I managed to get my hands on his daughter.” The pirate chuckles, then clicks his tongue. His tone is calculated when he speaks again. “The Princess would have done my bidding too if you know what I mean.”

“He’s baiting you, Rex.” Cody notices the way Rex is gripping his sword and warns him. “Don’t react.”

“Shut it.” Wolffe hits Thorne on his side with the hilt of his sword, making the pirate huff out a pained breath.

Still Thorne pays Wolffe no mind as he continues, raising his voice for Rex to hear him loud and clear. “If she’s as beautiful as everyone say she is, I wouldn’t have helped myself. I would have made sure to have my fun.”

Rex shakes his head. He tries not to engage, he really does, but no one talks about you like that. No one. He turns around in an instant, one of his swords ready in his hand to threaten the pirate back into silence. But Thorne, clearly having planned for this, uses Cody’s and Wolffe’s distracted state to steal Wolffe’s sword and charge at Rex. However, he underestimates the captain of the 501st, who had his whole focus set on him from the moment he turned around; he saw him steal the sword just in time. Rex blocks the blow, having more mobility than Thorne who’s handcuffed, and with one calculated move, he disarms and pierces the pirate’s flesh. The wound lies on the left side of his torso, not lethal but painful, nonetheless.

“I trained her on doing this too.” Rex seethes, his hand on Thorne’s shoulder as he looks down at him. “She would have done more than this, I can assure you that. But she’s safe at home so this is in her name.”

“She’s not safe.” The pirate looks up at Rex and a chill goes down his back at the bloody smile sent his way. “She’s dead. She’s been dead for weeks.”

Rex forces himself not to have a reaction and remains silent, but as he takes his sword out of the pirate –who curses loudly in pain– and sheathes it once more, his hands start to shake. No, Thorne is taunting you, the princess is well protected. But he can’t be sure. He’s been so wrapped in the battle, in defeating the enemy as quick as he can to get home to you, that he hasn’t had time to check if any mail had arrived for him. If something happened –it couldn’t have– Echo would be the first to send word to him. The King would have heard the news too, but so far nothing has been said in land or at sea. Still, despite trying to reassure himself this way, Rex feels panic rise inside his chest and the sounds around him turn into white noise.

“Let’s bring him to the King.” Rex tells his fellow soldiers after clearing his throat. “His majesty will give him the punishment he deserves.”

Cody and Wolffe nod their heads and follow Rex’s lead, while his mind reels with worse case scenarios as vast as the sea stretching around him. He must check his mail, it’s the only way he’ll know for sure. If his friends notice his hurry on the way back to their ship, they don’t mention it. Instead, they share a worried glance and pick up their pace as well.

To be continued

✧☆★✧☆★

Taglist: @queenquazar @random-rex-shit @bispecsual @captainabsolo @literallydontlook

#captain rex #captain rex imagine #captain rex x reader #captain rex x female reader #captain rex fluff #captain rex x princess reader #captain rex tcw #captain rex x f!reader #captain rex fic #tcw fic #knight au #knight and princess #tbb fic

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chasing-rabbits · 2 years

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Life’s been kinda rough lately and honestly I’ve not felt like doing much at all. I get mini bursts of motivation but they go so quickly I’m barely able to make any progress on the things I want too. This is gonna be long so I’ll put it under a read more its an update on my Granddad and his decline in health so don’t read on if you don’t want to hear about that.

My Granddad got taken into hospital last week and today I found out that he’s going to be sent home but not because he’s better rather because there’s nothing more they can do. He cannot really keep down any significant amount of food nor water/liquids anymore because he is aspirating into his lungs which causes him to just choke and spit up anything he does try to drink or eat.

We had an ENT come out and tell us this a few weeks back now and advised us to only give him mushy and/or pureed foods or things like soups but tbh they’d been struggling to get him to eat anything well before that. He has these super high calorie shakes he got on prescription from the Dr’s but it got to a point where he didn’t even have the strength to swallow water. This is one reason he was taken to hospital - dehydration but also run some basic tests to see if there was any underlying cause they could treat. He did have an infection so he’s been on antibiotics and the water on his lungs had come back - well I should clarify the water on his lungs never 100 percent went away it never would we were told but it came back in the sense the water on his lungs had increased to a level that now needed treatment again.

There’s basically nothing of him, just skin and bones and he’s in pain as well as developing bed sores since he’s not able to get out of bed and there’s nothing to protect him, no fat you know? So that’s causing him pain but he also has chronic anaemia that they can’t treat due to his heart issues he’ll be anaemic no matter what they give him or his diet. He’s just falling apart ever since his heart attack/failure in 2020 he’s pretty much been on a slow decline with only a few brief moments of what seemed to be improvements in his condition. This is the second time in probably 2-3 weeks now my Granddad has expressed his wishes to die. The first time he refused to eat and said he wanted to just go but then over the weekend changed his mind as he got a burst of energy and was doing better or seemingly so.

But this time they’ve all said it, he’s not getting better and at this point they’ve been talking to my dad about palliative care. Earlier this week my Granddad said he didn’t want to be poked and prodded anymore he just wanted to ’sleep’. He made it clear that he didn’t want to have a long drawn out painful death and the hospital and all the Dr’s seem to be of the same opinion. So I found out today my dad went back and had a long conversation with my mum about it and she explained this is his dad’s wishes and whilst we may not be ready to let go it would be cruel to see him suffer just so we can get a few extra days or weeks with him. So the hospital wanted to start the process of palliative care right now but my dad made them wait til he comes home because we don’t know how long he has left and he never wanted to die in hospital my Granddad made very clear he wanted to die at home.

By palliative care what I mean is at the moment they’re trying to get him to eat although its basically nothing at this point and so when palliative care starts they’ll give him a sedative not completely knock him out just something to make him comfortable due to the pain he is in. So they are going to give him a sedative and morphine for the pain and we’re no longer going to try and force him to eat because at the moment that’s where we are at.

Before he went into hospital we were and btw I don’t mean literally forcing him but rather he would not want to try to eat and my parents and his carer would bring him food and try to encourage him, say please just have a couple spoonfuls and such you know? Cos he was so low weight he had so little energy so would be sleeping a lot so often it would lead to his carer or my dad waking him at meal times to get him to have a few mouthfuls of soup or his shakes but now we’re just going to leave him be and not try to persuade him to eat because one he just wants to be left alone but also if we’re being honest when we do persuade him to eat due to his aspirating into his lungs he is having almost nothing of what he’s given so it’s realistically having no real impact on his health in the sense that the amount he is eating is so negligible it’s pretty much the same as if he consumed nothing in regards to his body and what it needs to function. I’m just still struggling to come to terms with all this like I was aware that he didn’t have long left but being told they are officially starting palliative care makes it real. Before it was just this abstract concept it was a thing that would be happening eventually but it wasn’t quite fully realised yet, you know? But hearing those words said out loud takes it from something abstract that could be weeks or months away into something real that’s only likely days away and I don’t quite know how to process that.

I just lost my Grandma last year to cancer and now I’m losing my Granddad the year after and if I’m being honest my other Granddad out in Spain since losing his wife (my Grandma to cancer) he’s just given up the fight he has a long list of health issues including that he’s on dialysis and has had a major heart attack where theyve said if he has another one he will outright die due to complications of the first one. I’m honestly not confident that I’ll get another year with my Granddad in Spain so I’m sat here thinking oh my god I’ve lost my Grandma now my Granddad and next year I could be burying my other granddad. In 3 years I could lose all of my grandparents and i’m broken im honestly broken and angry. I’m angry that someone could do this whether you believe in a God or not i’m some what spiritual but not to any one singular religion but I do believe in certain things like reincarnation and the potential for a higher power so at times like these I wonder what fucker up there would take all of my grandparents away so quickly after one another and i’ve not lost all of them yet but its looking pretty fucking bleak right about now.

#life update #erin talks #erin rambles #super long post

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nsheetee · 3 years

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Awaken

Pairing: chenle x reader Genre: friends to lovers AU, fluff, mature content Length: 6.4k Summary: When Chenle invites you on a last minute trip to his family’s home in China, you’re excited at the prospect of a small vacation and about spending time with your crush. Surprisingly, Chenle’s extended family is there as well, and a series of events quickly awaken something new in both of you. Warnings/Details: female reader, explicit sex (breeding kink, unprotected sex [please stay safe], creampie) disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. the characters and events are not a reflection of reality or meant to offend in anyway.

“What do you mean you can’t come? We were talking about this literally last night, and not even 12 hours later, you can’t come?!” Chenle practically screams into his phone as he stuffs random pants and shirts into his open suitcase. “Explain yourself, Park.”

“My mom suddenly wants me to come home.” Jisung sounds apologetic and slightly timid, “She said she’s cooking dinner tonight for our family and if I’m not at the table she’ll cut my tongue off. I know she won’t actually do it, but... I don’t want to test it.”

Chenle sighs, sounding bothered by this predicament, but Jisung knows his best friend isn’t going to be that sad about his absence. It’s not like Jisung has never been to Chenle’s house in China, and although he loves the place, he knows this won’t be the last opportunity for him to fly there. When Chenle sighs once more, this time just to be annoying and show how irritated he is, Jisung speaks again.

“Don’t be like that. You love visiting your family, just think of it as an opportunity to spend more time with them.” Jisung hears Chenle fall onto his bed on the other side of the line.

“I do love to visit, but my whole family is either younger than nine or older than thirty-five. I just want someone that’s my age to be with me if I feel lonely.” Jisung pouts at that. Chenle is an outgoing person and loves to be around the people he’s comfortable with, so hearing that he gets lonely without his best friend makes Jisung’s heart hurt a bit. However, an idea suddenly pops into his head.

“Hey, you actually do have another friend our age, and I bet she would love to go to China with you.” At the mention of a ‘she,’ the only ‘she’ both Chenle and Jisung know at the moment who would want to hang out, Chenle sits up straighter on his bed and his heart rate speeds up.

“Oh, ___?” He tries to sound nonchalant, “I’m not sure. She would be meeting my family, won’t she think that’s weird? And what if she feels uncomfortable? It’s not like she can just go home—”

“There are lots of what if’s, Chenle. All I know is that she finished her finals and is on break, and probably deserves a small vacation for her hard work.” Jisung pushes, suddenly excited that he can’t come on the trip if it means Chenle can get closer to you. “Just ask her. I promise it won’t hurt.”

“If she says no, it will hurt my pride. So, that’s a lie.”

“Chenle.” Jisung replies flatly.

“Fine, fine, I’ll ask.” Chenle plays with the hem of his shirt, thinking about how nervous he got over this trip just by adding you into the equation. With some last goodbyes and a promise that Chenle will update Jisung about everything that happens this weekend, the call ends. Chenle fidgets through his phone, procrastinating calling you, but when every single app is checked and there is only the phone icon staring back at him, Chenle sighs and finds your contact, pressing the call button.

After meeting you through Jisung, you and Chenle quickly became close friends. You’re both easy-going, prefer staying up late at night, and okay with being lazy at home, so hanging out together is easy to do. It also doesn’t hurt that you’ll eat literally anything Chenle cooks, boosting his pride tenfold when you praise him endlessly for his cooking. Actually, one night at his house after he made dinner and you shared a bottle of wine on the rooftop of his house while looking at the night sky, wishing the light pollution didn’t erase all the stars, that’s when he figured it out.

You’re important to Chenle. So, so important.

He knows he has feelings for you, and that he cares about you deeply. He is aware of your presence whenever you’re in the same room and gets that longing feeling in his stomach when your attention is taken away from him. There is no doubt that Chenle is in the middle of falling head over heels for you, but he always feels the need to keep a few steps back.

He walks on a tightrope, on one end is friendship and on the other is love, and he’s stuck in the middle. You’ve given him hints of attraction and subtle nuances in your words that could possibly mean you have feelings for him as well, but nothing concrete enough that gives Chenle the confidence to walk further along the tightrope.

Maybe, just maybe, this trip can bring you two closer to the end of this balance beam.

“A trip?” Chenle hears excitement in your voice after he explains what happened with Jisung, and he feels hopeful, “That sounds like fun!”

“Great. I’ll pick you up in three hours.” Chenle feels giddy and nervous at the same time, his leg bouncing up and down to portray all of his feelings.

“Oka— Wait. Three hours?”

“Bye!” Chenle abruptly ends the call before you can ask anything else or change your mind, throwing his phone to the other side of the bed. He takes a few deep breaths and then stands up, continuing to pack his things. This time with more skip in his step that’s fueled by the promise of your presence with him for the whole weekend.

It’s already nearing 6pm when you arrive in Shanghai. You follow Chenle closely as he leads you through the airport, looking really confident about every turn he makes as he weaves through the busy and tired looking people. However, you’re both thrown off your path when a large window on your right catches your eye, the night view of the city of Shanghai making you stop in your tracks and swerve to take a closer look.

Your hands smudge the clean windows as you lean in and stare at the enormous city, the sparkling lights and tall buildings look like you just took a flight to the future, not just a few hours south.

“It’s pretty…” You trail off, not really talking to anyone in particular. Chenle, who followed you to the window and also stares at the view from beside you, smiles at the comment.

“You like it?”

“It’s amazing…” You sound like you’re in a daze, which makes Chenle smile wider.

“I should show you the view from the balcony in my room. It’s ridiculous.” Chenle nods and gives the view one more glance over. His words bring you back to reality, making you shiver.

In Chenle’s bedroom… where so many things other than watching the night sky can happen.

You heat up in embarrassment at the dirty thoughts, yelling at yourself in your head for thinking like that when Chenle probably meant it in the most innocent way.

“We should probably get going..” Chenle seems completely oblivious to your predicament, yawning as he turns around and continues walking through the airport. You follow him, lightly biting the inside of your cheek as your previous thoughts fly through your mind again.

The Shanghai airport is crowded, almost over-crowded. After traveling further through the airport, it gets hard to follow Chenle’s leather bucket hat that bobs through the sea of people and you have to grip onto his backpack so that you don’t lose him. He feels the sudden weight on his bag, turning around to see you struggling.

His hand finds yours, making you release the grip on his zippers and instead intertwine with his fingers, turning to look forward and once again leading you to baggage claim. Your hands start to sweat and you feel embarrassed, but Chenle doesn’t seem to mind as he squeezes your fingers softly and glances back at you to make sure you’re okay. He doesn’t let go of your hand until your luggage arrives, and when he does release your hold, you feel very cold and empty from the lack of Chenle’s touch.

“Mom, I’m home!” Chenle yells into his house, dragging his suitcase behind him and taking off his shoes, “I brought a friend.” You both leave your things at the door and Chenle hands you some slippers, then you follow him through the house in search of his mother. You find her in the kitchen, stove on and several pots and pans cooking food at once.

“Chenle!” She exclaims after seeing her son, and then her eyes fall on you.

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you.” You politely greet her, slightly unsure of what her reaction to you will be.

“You didn’t tell me you’d be bringing your girlfriend here.” She laughs gleefully and leaves the stove to come closer, almost jumping on the tile floors over to you.

“Oh, we’re n-” You begin, but Chenle cuts you off.

“Jisung couldn’t come, so I brought ___ here instead. I hope that’s okay.”

“Oh, it’s perfectly fine,” She smiles, which makes you relax a bit, “You’ve never brought anyone here other than Jisung, I was beginning to think you don’t know anyone other than him.”

It’s your turn to laugh, covering your mouth as you glance at Chenle to see him roll his eyes with a sour look on his face. Before he can retaliate, his mom cuts him off.

“Well, since you’re here, could you set the table? I’m running late on dinner and I need extra hands. Get out eleven plates and those high chairs we keep in the closet.” She quickly makes her way back to the stove after warmly rubbing your arm, moving faster than your eyes can follow as she adjusts spices and stirs.

“Why so many?” Chenle asks.

“Your aunts and uncles are coming over today.” At that information, you turn to face Chenle with an unsure look painted on your face.

“Is it okay that I’m here?” You step closer to him and whisper, “If you’re having a family dinner, I don’t want to intrude.”

“Of course it’s okay. Don’t even worry about it.” Chenle gently grabs your shoulders and turns you around, forcing you to walk out of the kitchen and back into the foyer. You collect your luggage and head upstairs.

Chenle’s house has an impressive three stories with several bedrooms, an office, and a lounge room in the top two floors and the rest of the important rooms on the first floor. You didn’t see much of the backyard, but you caught sight of several trees that surround the house, making the area more private. Considering this place is close to the city, you’re amazed at how all of this belongs to Chenle and his family.

His room is on the third floor, and you take a look inside when he sets down his things on his bed. The balcony he mentioned earlier is covered with long white curtains and his bed is wide, taking up a good chunk of space. On the other side of the room, a TV hangs on the wall and there are several gaming consoles hooked up. Overall, a normal guy’s room.

“You’re next door…” He mumbles and leads you to the room next to his. The layout is a mirrored version of his room, only the balcony is replaced with large windows and the room is more generic looking rather than lived-in like Chenle’s. You set your things down and glance out of the window; you’re met with the canopy of trees that grow in his backyard.

“And your bathroom is right here,” Chenle’s voice brings you back to the room, showing you inside the bathroom, “And if you need anything, my room is right through here.” He opens a door in the bathroom to reveal his room on the other side. You nod and walk over to the bed, plopping down on the soft covers.

“Your house is amazing. I feel like I’m staying at a fancy AirBnB… but I don’t have to pay for it and there’s a family staying here too.” You both laugh at that, but your comment has you questioning your stay here some more.

“You’re sure it’s okay for me to be here? I don’t want to take your time away from family.” You bite your lip and look up at Chenle, looking for his honest answer. You’d hate for Chenle to not spend all the time he can with his family while he’s here, considering he can’t visit often.

“I am 100% sure that you’re okay to stay here. I think everyone will l-love you.” Chenle clears his throat after his stutter, hoping you wouldn’t question his sudden nerves surrounding the topic of love.

“Okay.” You nod and rub your hands over your thighs to rid yourself of anxiety. You only keep asking because you hate to be an intrusion. But if Chenle is sure that your presence here is okay, then you’re going to enjoy this vacation to the best of your abilities.

“You get settled, I’ll go help my mom. I’ll get you when dinner is ready.” Chenle turns around to leave the room, but you stop him.

“Oh, I can help. It’s the least I can do, and it seems like there’s a lot to get ready.”

“But you’re a guest—”

“I don’t mind.” You smile and leave the room first, looking over your shoulder as if to beckon him to try and stop you. Chenle doesn’t, partially because he wants to spend any second he can with you, even if it’s just setting the dinner table. But he also doesn’t stop you because that would mean grabbing onto your hand and pulling you back, and Chenle almost had a heart attack at the airport the first time he did that. Thinking back on it, the action felt natural but it still startled him, and he can’t get the feeling of how your soft hands feel in his own out of his head.

“Hey, wait up! You’ll get lost.” Chenle calls out and quickly follows you out of the room.

Chenle’s family loves you. In fact, Chenle thinks they love you just a little too much.

From his mom cooing at you as you help Chenle properly set the table to his aunts and uncles endlessly talking about your hobbies and school, it seems like you’re the life of the party tonight. However, that’s not what catches Chenle’s eye.

As he’s carrying some drinks to his dad and uncles who decided to sit outside after eating, Chenle passes by the living room to see you and his nieces and nephews playing. You’re reading a book to one of the younger kids while the others are coloring next to you and constantly showing you their art, seeking your approval or ideas on what they should draw next. Chenle’s two older nephews are playing tag around the table, and overall it’s just a whole ruckus. Chenle only has a chance to glance into the room for a second before continuing his trip outside to deliver the drinks.

As he’s coming back in, he’s startled by his older nephews who took their game of tag out into the hallway, almost running into Chenle.

“Woah, woah, woah. You shouldn’t be running in the hallway, get back in the living room.” Chenle ushers the boys back and once all of them are in the living room, he shuts the doors completely to keep anyone from going back out. His eyes land on you, you’re in the same position as you were before, but now you look up at Chenle and give him a warm smile while patting the spot next to you.

Chenle sits with his legs crossed while facing the same direction as you, looking over his niece's artwork and complimenting their scribbling, and then leaning back against the couch to mirror your position.

“I guess it’s more fun to play with the kids than with the adults?” Chenle asks, making your attention move from the TV screen where a kid’s movie is playing to meet Chenle’s eyes.

“Don’t you find it fun to play with kids? I think there’s never a dull moment with these guys.” You laugh and motion around the room as if to make your point.

“So, you like kids?” Chenle asks.

“Yes, a lot.” You nod, watching him look away and nod at your words. “What about you?”

“My nieces and nephews are… a bit too wild for me.” He admits, “But I like kids. I would like to have my own kids in the future.” Chenle speaks without really thinking about his words, just talking to you about anything is nice. When he realizes what he said at the end, his eyes glance over at you to gage your reaction.

“Same here. There’s some special sort of happiness that comes with having kids. I see it all the time on mothers’ faces, and I always wonder what it feels like. I bet you can’t really find that kind of feeling anywhere else in the world.” You muse, and Chenle quickly agrees with your sentiment, involuntarily gulping as the thoughts in his head rampage.

Could you get anymore perfect for him?

You look down at your thigh, for some reason not being able to look at Chenle in the eye. “I think… You’ll be a really good father, Chenle.”

Just from your simple words, Chenle’s heart begins to pound in his ears and warmth spreads through his chest. He watches you shyly look up at him, not being able to do anything but stare at you for fear of his body moving without his control.

“Can you please read again.” His youngest niece breaks the staring contest between you two with her question, pulling your gaze away from him. When your attention is on his niece, he quietly slips out of the room and stumbles up the stairs to his bedroom, shutting and locking the door behind him.

He paces around his bed, his hands running through his hair as he tries to figure out

what just happened. You said you like kids. You said you would like kids in the future. You also said you think Chenle would make a good father. Are you purely giving him compliments or… could you be hinting at something else?

Why does Chenle feel like his heart might explode any second if he keeps thinking about you. On second thought, he looks down, his pants might be the thing that explodes. Chenle sighs, slightly embarrassed that he got hard by just thinking about you.

You looked so cute playing with his nieces and nephews, so kind and genuinely warm hearted to them that it melted Chenle’s heart. He wants to see it again. He wants to see you reading a book to them and changing your voice for every character, listening intently as they tell you story after story, rubbing their backs gently as they color.

Chenle wants to see you like that with his kids.

His own thought scares him a bit, and he sits down on his bed while trying to calm his breathing. He’s even more surprised at the shot of pleasure that runs through him at his own idea. He feels his stomach turn pleasantly at the thought of a little you and him running around, you showing your love to both Chenle and your child.

Warmth grows in Chenle's heart; he wants it so bad.

He can imagine the picture so clearly in his head that it hurts him to think about it, since he knows he’s far from that point in his life. That doesn’t stop him from getting turned on, though. He digs the heel of his palms into his eyes and breathes deeply, trying to think of something —anything— else. Why is it that whenever you’re around, he can’t think of anything, but whenever you’re not around, he can only think of you?

‘It’s useless’ he sighs, scooting up on his bed and moving his bedsheets away.

Sitting against his head board, Chenle grips his sheets in one hand and his other slides down his stomach, tickling him slightly, and over his crotch. Swallowing thickly, he closes his eyes and focuses on his warm hand stimulating his member. He can’t help but let out a soft sigh at his own teasing, but soon has had enough and quickly pushes down his pants and boxers to let his dick spring out. Using some precum that glistens as it runs down the side of his dick, he starts pumping his shaft, eventually getting fully hardened.

His wrist turns every time he reaches the end of a pump and he slides down the headboard as his eyes flutter from the pleasure. Chenle is good at staying quiet thanks to the years of practice in his full house, but he can’t help the whines he emits every so often when his fingers move over his tip.

But soon, Chenle turns frustrated. He’s doing all the things he knows his body likes, but his orgasm is just too far away still. He becomes impatient, starting to shift his hips around and rub his length faster as sweat builds on his forehead, but it only hurts his wrist and makes him itch for his orgasm more.

Every time Chenle thinks of you while getting off, he feels a bit guilty.

He hopes you don’t mind it, but you hold a place in his heart and Chenle is very attracted to you, it’s impossible to think of anyone else when he’s in this position. So, Chenle takes a breather, and when he continues his stroking, he thinks about your tiny hand replacing his instead. His eyes immediately roll to the back of his head and he finds it hard to keep himself sitting up.

Chenle’s head is tilted back, his jaw dropping open bit by bit as he moves on to thinking about your warmth mouth around his cock, the way your face would look as you glance up at him and kiss up his thighs before sliding his member through your lips again.

Chenle has to shove the duvet he has been gripping into his mouth to stop the moan that almost leaves his throat, his eyes screwing shut as he imagines how good your wet pussy would feel around his dick, sliding in and out as you chase your own release. He loses composure when he imagines what your pants and moans would sound like in that situation, what your nails would feel like gripping onto his shoulder for dear life, and what the flesh of your hips and waist would feel like under Chenle’s hands as he drives you harder onto his cock.

Chenle eventually starts thrusting his hips up into his hand, desperately chasing his high to the very highest peak. Chenle has thought about you many times while jerking himself off, but this time around, the thing that makes him tip over the edge is the thought of his cum shooting into you. He lets himself fall into the pleasure, seeing stars at the thought of his seed filling you up. He milks himself as strings of cum land on his thighs and pants, going to the very last stroke until it almost feels painful.

He limply falls over on his bed, breathing heavy and ears slightly ringing from the intensity he brought upon himself. When the feeling goes away he opens his eyes and listens to the sounds of the commotion downstairs, his mom and aunties playing with the kids, and the cars that drive by outside his balcony. When he looks over at the bathroom door, his heart drops all the way to his stomach and his head turns fuzzy from panic.

You’re right there.

Maybe you think he doesn’t see you, half hidden by his bathroom door, but he sees your hand resting on the handle and he hears your heavy breaths all the way from across the room. A part of him wants to dig himself into the covers and never come back out, but he pushes that embarrassment away so he can think clearly. You’re just standing there, no doubt just saw him come, why aren’t you leaving?

“___,” Chenle calls out, his voice lower than you expected and making you flinch behind the door. “Come here.” He says it softly, but in a demanding tone, so you open the door all the way and look at him. A mess of sheets surrounds him and his hair sticks to his forehead from sweat, all of this is illuminated by the dim moonlight coming from the balcony. Taking small steps to him, you don’t know what to do with your hands or where to look, but Chenle makes it easy when he pulls you down on the bed next to him.

“Did you like what you saw?” His question startles you, “Tell me the truth.” He adds on. You nod, a question of your own coming to mind.

“Why did you say my name when you were doing… that?” Chenle’s eyes widen, not aware of your name slipping through his lips. “Tell me the truth.” You say back at him.

Something in Chenle tells him that things won’t be the same way between you two after tonight no matter how he tries to amend this situation, so he thinks he might as well take it as far as you’ll let him.

He leans into you slowly, lips sliding past your cheek and teasing the skin there, stopping to whisper into the shell of your ear. “Because I was thinking of you, why else?” He likes how you shiver, he likes seeing the goosebumps on your shoulder from his words. Scraping up as much courage as he can, he leans all the way in and places a hot kiss below your earlobe. He waits for you to push him away, but you only grab onto the front of his shirt for leverage, so Chenle continues. He presses slow and open-mouthed kisses down your neck, almost too slow, until he reaches your shoulder where he bites down gently, raising a sharp gasp out of you.

You push him away and look at his eyes. Chenle is afraid that you’ll tell him to stop because this surely means he screwed up, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the next words that come out of your mouth.

“Tell me what you were thinking about. I’ll make your dreams into reality.”

Chenle’s jaw drops slowly at that, looking over your face for any signs of a joke. But fire burns in your eyes and the hand that’s holding onto his shirt pulls him in, lips crashing together in your very first kiss.

It’s hot, the room and the kiss and the way your hand falls down to chest and stomach to reach his dick, once again twitching from just the slight sting your nails give him as they travel across his body, not to mention the way your tongue slides into his mouth, exploring every corner. The kiss is wet and messy, but neither of you care right now.

“Was it like this? Hm?” You pull away while tilting your head, somehow looking innocent as you start to pump his dick, the same way he did not too long ago. Chenle shakes his head, pushing on your shoulder to get you to sit on the floor. As you slide onto your knees Chenle grips the back of his shirt and pulls it over his head, wiping his hands on it, and throwing it behind him, not caring about how dirty it will be after.

When he looks down at you between his legs, your little hands moving his pants and boxers all the way down his legs, he thinks he must be dreaming. It has to be fake, you look too good with his spit covering your lips and your hands spread out on his thighs, looking up at him curiously as if to ask for what he wants next. This has to be a dream, but when he feels your soft hair bunching up in his hand and the first touch of your puffy lips on his sensitive tip, he knows this is anything but a dream.

He’s all too excited when his hips push up into your mouth and his hand tightens in your hair. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but he can’t help how good you’re making him feel. His toes curl, his mouth releases little whimpers and pleas filled with your name, probably the most vocal he has been in his entire life.

You don’t mind the roughness from him, you like it actually, the wetness building in your core proof of that. The sight above you, Chenle’s head tilted back and the outline of his abs flexing every time your tongue swirls around his dick is more than enough to get you heated, desperate for some friction between your legs. Just when you think Chenle is going to cum, he pulls you away from him, surprising you.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, suddenly afraid you did something wrong. He groans, his eyes squeezing shut hard enough that the dimples under his eyes come out. He lets you stand up, but grabs the back of your thigh to pull you closer to him.

“I should be good to you, I can’t let you sit on the floor and suck my dick all night, as much as I would like that.” That makes you chuckle a bit. Chenle smiles, moving your shirt up and peppering kisses over your stomach, right above your waistband. You remove your shirt, feeling Chenle’s hands play with the buttons and zipper of your pants.

“What’s next?” You ask after he slowly slides your pants off of your legs and throws them behind you. He looks at you, his eyes conveying how nervous he feels by your question. He’s not sure how you would feel about the next part of his fantasy.

“Can I come in you?” He asks so fast that you almost don’t register his words, but when you do your eyebrows quirk up. When you don’t say anything, Chenle continues, “I know this is kind of wild for our first time together, but I promise I’m clean and—”

“Sure.” Chenle shuts up at that, his eyes wide as he tries to read your face through the lack of good lighting. “I trust you. Do you trust me?” When Chenle nods, you climb onto his lap, your lips meeting again in a softer kiss than before. You grip the strands of his hair in the back of his head as you gently sit down on his thighs. Chenle immediately grabs your hips and pulls you flush against him, chest to chest and hips against hips so that you can feel his dick pressing against your center, raising a strangled gasp out of you.

Chenle takes that moment to slide his tongue in your mouth, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you against him while his other hand moves your hips against his own. His dick rubs against your center, the slickness that has seeped through your underwear making Chenle shake with pleasure. He kisses down your neck and chest to leave hickies on the top of your breasts while continuing to grind up into you, starting to feel obsessed with how you sound every time his dick rubs against your clit.

You’re in the middle of taking off your bra when his hand that was moving your hips moves to your front as he runs two fingers over your covered slit. It surprises you and you let out a moan, forgetting about your bra and covering your mouth to stop yourself from getting any louder. He moves your panties to the side and slides one finger in to test the waters, you clench around him instantly and sigh in relief at how he curls his finger in you.

“Relax,” He mutters and removes your bra all the way for you, his hand once again finding a palace at your waist to steady you on top of him, “I got you. You’re safe with me.” He mumbles against your shoulder between kisses as you get adjusted on top of him. Your nails that were gripping into his shoulders relax a bit, and he adds a second finger to stretch you out some more. Your shaky breath tickles Chenle’s ears when he does so, but eventually you start grinding down on his fingers.

Chenle takes a moment to watch you grind onto his hand, your eyes shut as you’re completely lost in your own pleasure. You even look pretty like this, how is that fair? Chenle can’t help but express his feelings in the form of kisses over any part of your skin he can reach. You’re pretty sure he has kissed everywhere by the time he pulls his fingers away, making you turn your attention on him.

“Are you sure this is okay?” He gives you one last chance to back out, but you nod your head in agreement, your head cloudy from pleasure and your whole body begging for him to fuck you already. He nods too, guiding his dick into your hole and letting you slide down him inch by inch. Every move downward sends his mind blank and his stomach tightening, watching how he disappears into you and twitching from how tight you are. You keep clenching around him and it’s driving him completely insane. He leans back on his hands, breathing deeply to keep himself under control.

When you’re sat all the way down, Chenle takes your hand in his and intertwines your fingers together to place your hand against his cheek. You’re not sure if he even realizes he does this since his eyes are still shut in pleasure, but the gesture makes you smile a bit.

When Chenle thrusts up into you, your smile drops. Fuck, that feels good.

Chenle releases your hand and instead takes a hold of your hips keeping you steady as he thrusts up into you in a steady rhythm, drawing out unstoppable groans and moans from both of you, not caring about who’s hearing you two. His hips slap against yours with every move, sending you closer and closer to your high as you hold onto each other. When he stops for a moment, no doubt tired from all of the work, you continue to roll your hips against his.

“Ah—” He groans at your movements, “Oh my god, ___, don’t stop.” He moans. If you thought Chenle’s singing voice sounded heavenly, then you think the voice he used to moan your name might be out of this world, filled with so much feeling and lust that you don’t think he can even register what he’s saying anymore.

You feel your orgasm approaching all too fast, and when Chenle’s hips start to move again, you think he might be close too. That’s when you lean into his ear, the same way he did to you when he started all of this just a while ago.

“Come in me, Chenle.” You beg him, and his hips move faster, the grip he has on your hips so tight you’re sure there’s going to be bruises. You can’t think about it right now, though, as his cock moves in and out of you mercilessly and your name tumbles out of his lips once again.

Your orgasm breaks open throughout you, spreading like a wildfire through your nerves. You’re sure you can feel Chenle all over you and all around you as you come, pleasure filling you up from your head to your toes. As your muscles flutter around him, Chenle lets go too, white and hot springs of his sperm shoot into you. He continues to fuck it into you, slowing down when he feels both of you almost topple over from fatigue.

He slowly lays down in his bed, careful when he rolls you to the side. Sliding his dick out, he watches his white seed flow out of your pussy and down your thigh, his lips opening in awe and surprise at how much he likes the sight.

“Are you okay?” He asks, suddenly realizing the redness around your hips and waist from his own hands.

“Oh, I’m great. I’m wonderful, actually.” You sigh out, your eyes closed as you are still trying to get over the orgasm Chenle gave you. Your words make him chuckle, a bit of cockiness peaking through.

“Huh, I guess I’m that good, yeah?” Chenle makes sure to send you a closed lip smile, and you peak an eye open to hit him gently against the arm before retracting and falling limp again, both of you not able to control your bubbling laughter.

Chenle always imagined what the other side of the balance beam would look like— how it would feel like. Now, as he looks at your messy hair, your shining skin under the moonlight, and your quiet mumbles about random things as you cuddle under the blanket, he thinks it may feel just like this.

Later, after you and Chenle cleaned up a bit and got situated under the covers with you laying your head on his shoulder and him tracing stars, hearts, and the Chinese characters of his name on your back, Chenle gets a phone call.

“Hey, how are you? How’s it going with ___?” Jisung asks on the other side. Once you hear his voice, you perk up and tilt your head to look at Chenle with a raised eyebrow.

“Everything’s good, really good, actually. How’s your family?” Chenle asks back, stopping his tracing for a second to flick your forehead gently, making you slightly scowl at him.

“Good, my mom didn’t cut my tongue off, as you can probably tell.” Chenle lets some air out of his nose in the form of laughter at Jisung’s joke.

“So, why did you call?” Chenle hums into the phone, burying himself closer to you under the covers.

“Don’t you remember? You said you would update me on anything that happens while you’re over there. Did something happen?” Jisung asks and Chenle can’t contain his smile as he answers.

“Park Jisung, I’m so glad you couldn’t come this weekend.”

“What? What does that mean—”

“I’m hanging up now.” Chenle ends the call, throwing his phone somewhere on the bed and wrapping his arm around you, cuddling closer to you and finally falling asleep.

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heloisedaphnebrightmore · 3 years

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Possibilities [Tom Hiddleston x Reader]

Title: Possibilities Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Female!Reader Word count: 3k Published: 6 July 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Warnings: Mention of food and alcohol Summary: Tom and you have been friends for a long time and because of that same reason you value your friendship more than to ruin it with some silly feelings. But the event you attend together offers you some surprises that might change your relationship forever.

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Events, galas, award ceremonies. You weren't a popular actress nor a famous singer, or social media influencer. You had a simple 9-5 job that would hardly ever get you into these events. But regardless of your status in society, you were known and not because of any talent you possessed that could have made you famous, but because your best friend was none-other than Tom Hiddleston.

You have been friends for years, you adored everything about the man. He was sweet and kind, always polite, but just as playful. It was a friendship you felt lucky to be in, a friendship that you held so close to your heart, it would have broken every little piece of you if it ever ended. Often, you found yourself staring at him with a little smile in the corner of your lips, watching his every move, the way he joked around with his co-stars on set, the way he exercised in the gym for a role, the way he winked at you with a mischievous smile as he caught your eyes on him.

"Do you need my autograph?" he asked with a wide grin as he opened the door of the luxurious car he booked for the event. Once again you have forgotten your eyes on him— his dashing looks, the perfectly fitted suit, the playful twinkle in his eyes. He never stopped teasing you about it.

"Shove off, Tom," you nudged him as he got out of the car and held out a hand for you, waiting for you to accept his help. So, you did. Wrapping your fingers around his hand, you let him help you out of the vehicle as you rearranged your stunning dress and ran your hand down its length to remove any creasing. Cameras were flashing, reporters' loud voices filled the pathway to the entrance, a long red carpet leading your way inside the building towering over you like a modern castle.

"If I didn't know better, I would think your interest in me goes beyond friendship," he chuckled as he held his arm out to you, waiting for yours to be placed over his, his eyes following every little movement of yours. A sudden rush of heat travelled up to your cheeks, your breathing slightly laboured as you tried to calm your heavily beating heart. He was not wrong after all. It's been years since you have been harbouring these feelings, but you hadn't had the heart to confess them. Tom was more important to you than to ruin it over some silly feelings.

Sometimes, when you caught Tom's eyes on you, watching you intently, a soft smile spread across his face, it made you think if maybe, just maybe he was harbouring similar feelings towards you. But the idea was quickly swept away by your doubts, the thought of such an amazing man falling for you seeming impossible. You knew your worth, you didn't write yourself down, but Tom has always been perfect in your eyes, and you couldn't imagine him wanting you even if at times a certain silly part of your brain whispered otherwise.

"I love your healthy self-confidence," you finally gathered your ability to be able to reply, earning a comical huff from him. You have been trying hard, to deny your romantic interest in him, but rumours about the two of you have become a reoccurring news and it didn't help your case to shove your feelings in the back of your mind.

"Ready?" He asked as his gaze turned towards the red carpet. Heaving a heavy sigh, you nodded and murmured a 'yes' as a response.

As soon as the cameras started flashing, hundreds of photos of Tom and you being taken, you conjured a sweet little smile that the tabloids loved. You were always nervous when it came to these events. It was Tom's job to answer some of the questions journalists asked of him, which meant they were to ask about your relationship. It was becoming repetitive, making you feel uncomfortable. The questions themselves didn't bother you but repeating over and over again that the man you have fallen for is merely a friend, felt like a stab in your heart, each time you responded.

"Tom! Tom!" One of the reporters shouted his name and he led you to the side of the red carpet, halting right beside the metal cordons. Questions were flying around, photos had been taken, but you didn't concentrate. Your senses were heightened as Tom pulled you in his side, his arm now wrapped around your waist, gently, but firmly holding onto you. Looking up at him, you studied his face, his ice-blue eyes focusing on the reporter, an excited smile across his face. He seemed so relaxed, so collected, meanwhile even events after events you were still nervous. As though he could feel it, he turned to you with a soft, reassuring smile, giving you a nod, silently asking if you were alright. For others, the movement could have easily been missed, but to you, it was like an earthquake, shaking your heart, making you fall even deeper for him. In a reply, you nodded and offered him a smile as you squeezed his hand that rested on your waist.

"So, Tom, this might be a bit more personal, but everyone has been talking about the two of you," he started, and your eyes immediately darted towards the man. You knew the question, heard it a thousand times already, so you prepared your heart to give the same reply as always. 'We are just friends,' you repeated time after time, hoping they would finally understand and let you be, but they didn't seem to budge. "You have been friends for a long time, and your fans have been talking about how close the two of you have become. Do you think, maybe in the future, there's a possibility for romance to blossom?" He asked with an expectant expression, a sly smile in the corner of his lips.

"As we have said before," you spoke up, ready to reply as you always did, "we—"

"You never know what the future holds for you, there are many possibilities" Tom cut in with a mischievous smile, your eyes growing wide as you looked up at him. Tom chuckled at your expression as he leaned down and kissed the top of your head. "Tell me I'm wrong," he arched a brow questioningly, his words starting your heart off at a faster pace, your cheeks feeling warmer under his intent gaze, those blue eyes you often found yourself lost in.

"Well—, I mean I can't argue with that statement," you replied, feeling slightly awkward. A confused smile started growing wider on your face as Tom led you away. "Why did you do that?" You asked as you finally stepped inside the building, his arm still resting around your waist as you headed towards a large room filled with all sorts of foods and drinks, people dancing in the middle, the dim lightning offering a rather intimate mood. "You just created even more gossip," you scolded him, but seemingly he didn't mind. He led you to a table where his name was printed on a nametag and pulled the chair out for you before he took his seat beside you.

"I didn't say anything," he smiled at you as innocently as he could manage, the corner of his eyes crinkling.

"You did. Exactly because you were so secretive, people will want to read between the lines. They will think there's more to us than friendship," you huffed as you hid your face in your palm and heaved a heavy sigh.

"And is that so bad?" He frowned, earning the same expression from you.

"What?" A silent scoff left your lungs. "What are you trying to say?"

"Is that such a big problem if people think we are together?" He asked, his confident tone stunning you.

"Of course, not. I don't care what rumours are being spread about me, but I don't want them to gossip about you," you reached for his hand on the table and wrapped your fingers around it, giving it a gentle squeeze. His expression stayed emotionless; you couldn't read him entirely, but you knew he seemed off.

"I will go grab us a drink," he said as he stood up, leaving you frowning. You weren't sure what you said that made him upset, and regardless of trying to put on a straight face, you knew he wasn't happy with your response.

You watched as he walked over to a small table filled with the most delicious looking cakes and a couple of bottles of champagne, ready for the guests before they brought out the main course. Tom grabbed a battle of champagne and two glasses, filling up both halfway, before he placed the battle back into an ice bucket.

"What is it?" You asked as he returned and gave you one of the glasses.

"What do you mean?" He asked, taking a seat beside you.

"We've known each other for quite a long time. I can read you like an open book. What's bothering you?" Trying to get him to open up, you shuffled closer to him, your chair scraping the floor, turning heads in your direction. "Oops," you scratched the back of your neck awkwardly, earning a chuckle from Tom.

"Very subtle," he mocked you.

"Don't change the subject Mr. Hiddleston," you raised a questioning brow, a tiny smile hidden in the corner of your lips.

"Nothing is bothering me," he added, but your suspicious gaze didn't falter. "I'm being honest, darling," the sly little fox knew his nickname for you would make you soften up and he used every opportunity to say it when he felt cornered.

"Fine," you squinted. "But we aren't done! I'm not blind, I can see something is on your mind."

"Yes, ma'am, I can't wait for this conversation to come back around," he mocked you once again, making you huff as you gently punched his shoulder.

Throughout the night, said conversation was forgotten, the alcohol consumption rose, the amount of people dancing around the room grew, meanwhile others sat at their tables, trying to digest the previously served delicious meals. You couldn't deny that you had a good laugh with Tom and his co-stars from all sorts of movies he had been in. It felt like a little family, people coming together to just have a joyous time.

The way Tom smiled at his friends, praising each other, before turning to mock one another forced your eyes to rest on his excited features. He looked so alive, so happy and the feeling of the man you loved being in his element meant everything to you. Tom was radiating enthusiasm and you couldn't look away as you watched his ever-growing smile, his nose scrunched up at an unexpected subject, his head falling back as a loud laughter erupted from his lungs. He was always handsome, but when he was happy, it filled you up with a certain warmth that you couldn't explain. Like you always wanted to make him happy just to be able to see that cheerful smile spread across his face.

He turned to you, catching your gaze on him once again. His arm sneaked behind you, pulling you closer and leaning down to your ear. "You are staring at me again," you couldn't see it, but you could feel his smile spreading wider.

"I like to see you happy," you shrugged with a soft smile as you leaned back to be able to meet his gaze. His smile faltered, but his eyes softened.

"Dance with me," he said as he offered his palm to you, and you placed your hand in it.

"I take no responsibility for broken toes," you said with a silent chuckle as you followed him to the dancefloor.

"Don't worry, darling, it's worth the injury," he mirrored your expression as you stopped in the middle of the dance floor. A slow, romantic song started playing in the background, his arms finding their perfect position around your waist as yours sneaked around his neck.

It was a slow and peaceful dance, not requiring much knowledge and talent. You just enjoyed each other's presence, gazes meeting, smiles forming, swaying to the slow rhythm of the music. You didn't speak a word, but the silence wasn't uncomfortable. It never was with Tom. A soft smile, a quick glance, a simple gesture meant more than thousands of words when you were with him.

You laid your head against his chest, listening to his fast heartbeat, taking on a quicker pace just like yours did. "I miss you when you are not with me," he spoke for the first time as he leaned down and kissed the top of your head. You didn't move away; his embrace was too comfortable, and you couldn't care about people watching you.

"I always miss you. You are the one travelling all the time after all," you chuckled lightly, not wanting to ruin the moment.

"I could be only a mile away and I would still miss you," he replied as you pulled back a bit to meet his soft gaze, but there was no smile present across his handsome face. As the song finished, you found yourself standing in front of him, slightly confused about the conversation. "Do you want to go to the balcony? Have some fresh air?" He asked, taking on a more cheerful expression, but you knew him more than to believe it was genuine. In a response you nodded and linked your arm with his.

Following him through the sea of people, you finally arrived at the balcony, looking down to a smaller version of a park, a water fountain standing tall in its centre. You leaned against the rail as you watched the trees battling the silent wind, fallen leaves being blown across the walking path. Tom joined beside you, his eyes following the same direction as you did before they halted on your face. "You are being strange tonight," you spoke up, feeling his gaze resting on you before you turned to him, meeting his eyes.

"I'm just thinking," he added with a half-hearted smile.

"About?" You asked as you reached for his hand resting on the rail and placed yours on top of his. He turned his palm upside down and lifted your hand, hinting a small kiss on your knuckles as he heaved a heavy sigh. "Tom talk to me," you squeezed his fingers reassuringly, his eyes watching you, not leaving your gaze for a moment. "You have been rather quiet around me," you added.

His whole body turned to you, as though he was focusing his complete attention on you. Reaching towards you, he brushed your hair to the side, gently tucking it behind your ear. You leaned into the touch involuntarily, only realising your actions when he caressed your cheek with his thumb, before moving down and running it across your lips. The feeling burnt you, starting your mind off in a very dangerous territory, one that you have been avoiding. 'He is your friend' you tried to remind yourself. But once the tip of his thumb brushed along your lips once again, you couldn't stop yourself. Stepping forward, you placed your hands on his chest, steading yourself and rose on your tiptoes, pressing your lips against his.

Your own bravery surprised you, but Tom didn't seem affected. As soon as your lips met, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer. He didn't hesitate, he wasn't surprised. He just held you, gently running his lips along yours, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. But as much as you wanted to enjoy the moment, realisation hit you. You were kissing your best friend. You gently pushed him away, stumbling back from the force, covering your mouth with your palm. "I'm so sorry," you breathed, panic rising in your chest. "I have no idea what happened, I don't know why I did that, I'm so sorry," your words were rushed, your heartbeat loudly pulsing in your ears.

But Tom's gaze twinkled. A soft, warm smile grew wider across his face as he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you. "I'm not," he said as he pressed his forehead against yours. "I've been wanting to kiss you," he breathed as he closed his eyes momentarily, slightly shaking his head. "I've been wanting to tell you how much I love you; I've been trying to gain the courage to say it out loud," he scoffed. "I'm a fool for dragging it out for so long, but I love you," his voice shook as he said the words, but his arms tightened around you, safely holding you against his chest. It took you a second to understand what he meant, that your feelings weren't unrequited, that he has been harbouring the same feelings you have.

A heavy sigh left your lungs, as though a weight fell off your chest. Your lips curved into a smile as you placed your hands on his cheeks, running the tip of your thumbs across his jawline. He mirrored your expression whilst leaning into your touch, planting a small kiss on your palm. "I love you too," you replied finally," the words rolling off the tip of your tongue easier than you expected. "I love you so much," you giggled, wanting to repeat the words over and over again, until you finally understood that it was real, that you weren't dreaming. "You never know what the future holds for you, huh?" You asked, repeating his words from earlier in the evening, earning a loud chuckle from him. "So, is this one of those many possibilities?" you raised a single brow.

"Could be. I have a couple more ideas," he said, his soft smile turning into a confident grin.

"You are terrible," you gently hit his chest as you grabbed his suit-jacket and pulled him down to you, meeting his lips halfway, smiling into the intimate moment you have been craving for so long.

Notes: If you enjoyed reading this little piece, please don’t forget to leave a like, comment and/or reblog. Your opinion matters and gives us motivation. Thank you ^^

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twinklelilstarkey · 3 years

Text

Where is my girl, bro? - Qb!Rafe Cameron

Words: 2.1k+

Summary: Rafe is, finally, having the game that he anticipated for so long, but he can’t find you in the stands.

Warnings: Cursing? Female!Reader. Rafe being a sad boi for a few minutes.

DO NOT REPOST, REWRITE OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORK!

Inspired by the iconic video “I can’t find my mama, bro” (but, of course, instead of mom, it’s his girlfriend)

One thing you absolutely hate but, for some reason, always happens to you is that whenever you really want or need to be somewhere at a certain time, something *always* happens and you end up being late.

It could be for presentations, tests, and many other important things, and no matter what you do, it just happens. There’s no way to escape it.

Today is your boyfriend’s game. You never miss a game, ne-ver. And he has been telling you about it for way too long. Always saying how excited he is to play it, just so he can finally beat the guys that have been talking shit about his team nonstop for so long.

You did everything to get there in time. You left the college library early, went back to your apartment to take a shower and get ready.

You did everything in time and still had at least twenty minutes to spear. So, with the time remaining, you calmly and slowly got onto your car and drove your way to the stadium with absolutely no worries.

The time from your apartment to the stadium wasn’t all that much. Ten to fifteen minutes, max. Plus, the games are always a few minutes late. You were as relaxed as one can be.

But that’s when everything went to shit.

There was a car accident at one of the streets that connected to the stadium, so the road was closed. It wasn’t a big accident, just a tap that took one off the road slightly. No one was hurt, thankfully. But you had to do a whole different rout, where you were met with nothing but... traffic, of course.

Still, you didn’t stress. You still had time. Rafe didn’t have his phone on him anymore, so you couldn’t text him just to tell him know that you were on your way. But, still, you didn’t panic, yet.

It took you a good 15 minutes to get out of the traffic and get in the parking lot, to find almost no empty spots.

But life’s still great, right?

You were able to park your car all the way in the back and as soon as you turned off the engine, your friends started blowing up your phone to say that the game has started.

You jumped out of the car, locked the doors and started running to the stadium.

Midway through the ginormous parking lot, you remember that you left the lights of the car on. So, running back you went.

To say you were out of breath was an understatement.

You called your friends when you were able to get in the stadium (in as: ‘just walked through the door’) to see where they were seated, and you did that while walking at fast pace to the usual seats, slightly off to the left of the field, already expecting their answer.

And all you got as their answer was “our usual spot was occupied”, which made you stop walking and sigh to the ceiling, “we’re on the right, by the doors”.

And there you went again. Running like a mad woman, again, through empty hallways to the other side of the stands.

The game had been going on for a good few minutes now and Rafe was sitting on the bench, breathing a little heavy has he just left the field and his eyes study the stands.

“Where is my girl, bro?” He asks his teammate beside him.

His friend tries to help him find you, eyes scanning through the sea of college students and families, but soon enough he was called back in the game.

Rafe’s telling himself many times that you are there and he just isn’t seeing you.

You wouldn’t miss a game, right?

You pant as you make your way up to the stands. Your legs are starting to ache from the sudden running and jumping up stairs, and the urge to yell a ‘thank god’ when you spot your friends at the front seats and not all the way in the back is too intense for you to just not let out a whisper yell version of it.

“Finally!” Your friend says loudly over everyone’s loud excited voices.

You sit beside them, feeling exhausted, eyes already on the score board, scared to see that you missed any points, but you’re happy to see that you didn’t miss all that much.

You sip your drink excessively as you quench your thirst and your friend starts to update you on what you missed.

Rafe’s eyes go back to the stands as he makes his way back to the bench and he frowns at the fact that he can’t see you nowhere close to your usual spot. He looks through the sea of dark blue jerseys, trying to at least find his number on anyone and go on from there, but he just... can’t see you.

“Still can’t find her?” His other teammate asks.

“No, like... what the fuck?” He curses more to himself than anyone else, sad tone. “Where the fuck is she?”

He’s not cursing you, he’s cursing himself. Like what if he forgot to tell you that the game was today? He had stopped checking his phone long before the game started... what if something happen? Maybe he should’ve checked his phone earlier.

Oh, god, where are you?

He lets himself fall back on the bench, eyes still on the stands, which almost made him trip over an helmet on the floor, but he didn’t seem to care all that much.

Your eyes stay on the field, watching the game continue as you try to cool down your warm body, nodding at your friend’s words and waving your arms around your face to seek some wind.

(...)

The game continues on, Rafe keeps on trying not to think too much about your absence on your usual seat, forcing himself to think that you have been there the whole game, and imagines you in previous games just to simulate some idea of your presence.

Everything is close to ending, his team is winning, as expected, yet he was still dragging his feet on the grass and letting his eyes stay on the ground as he walked back to the bench.

He feels sad, this almost-win doesn’t even feel like a win. He never celebrated a home game win without you, and it’s weird to even think about it.

“Yo, Cameron!” His friend screams from a few feet away from him.

Rafe lifts his gaze from the ground, up to his friend. He has an outstretched arm, pointing at the opposite side of home team stands, the one’s he has been looking at for way too long.

Rafe’s heart speeds up for a bit as hope runs through his system and he stands up, almost running full speed to his teammate. He stands behind him to try and follow his pointed finger. His blue eyes scan the middle rows first and suddenly... he spots you.

You’re smiling at your friend, wearing his jersey, like always, shaking a cup on your hand and sipping the last drops of your drink at the bottom of the cup.

You are nowhere near where he thought you would be. Yeah, you’re on the front row but way off to the side, close to the doors that he had just walked through on the break.

How the hell didn’t he see you?

A wide smile spreads over his lips and his heart squeezes at the sight. He has never felt this much relief in his life. You’ve been here this whole time.

You’re not going to miss a home game win.

The last seconds of the game run out and the team starts celebrating as soon as the number zero hit the timer.

A heavy weight has been lifted off Rafe’s shoulders and he honestly didn’t even realize it was there until now. His smile is huge as he jumps around with his teammates while they chant whatever nonsense you always had trouble understanding a word of.

His helmet is on his hand, letting his hair flow away freely in the wind as his features twitch upwards in the happiness with the win of the game that has been on his mind for so long.

You smile from your spot on the stands, some people in the stands are just as loud as the team, jumping and dancing around. You can’t blame them, after so many weeks of both colleges fighting against one another on social media, yours can finally rub the win on their faces.

As the team separates to go to their girlfriends, boyfriends and family members, many people walk over to the railing of the stand.

Rafe walks towards you, smile as bright as ever, being highly contagious to you.

“Hi baby!” You squeal in excitement as he gets closer to you.

He answer back with a just as excited tone and cheesy nickname and comes closer to the stands. He climbs them a bit and you lean down to cup his face and give him the usual kiss after a game.

His cheeks are sweaty under your fingertips, but it’s not something you haven’t grown accustomed to.

When being able to pull away from the various pecks, Rafe helps you down the stands, almost against your will, and pulls you into a not so comfortable hug due to all the gear on him.

Yes, you, supposedly, can’t get on the field, but there’s too many people around you for anyone to notice, and other people are also doing it, so it will be impossible for someone to call you out specifically in the middle of such commotion.

“I didn’t see you for most of the game.” Rafe tells you and you look up at him.

“I expected that. I got here late and supposedly our usual spot was taken.” You explain over the loud music.

“You were late?” He asks loudly, forced shock on his tone as he pulls a quite offended look on his face, “For my special game? How could you?”

You giggle at him and he breaks the fake expression so he can smile.

“There was traffic and the parking lot is completely full.” You explain.

“Excuses, excuses.” He says while waving his head from side to side comically, “You. little missy... for-got!”

He pokes your side with each word and you laugh at him again, loving his playful and excited mood.

“Did not do such a thing!” You say, playing along.

Rafe’s smile is wide and bright and god, you wish they could win everyday.

If it meant him stopping to worry so much about everything and just be this happy every day... Ugh, where do you sign? No matter what cost. You will sign that, god damn it.

As you’re about to pull away from your sweaty boyfriend, your friend stops you.

“Wait! Let me take picture!” She says.

You pass her your phone with the best of your ability and she takes it in her hands midair. You walk back to stand beside Rafe and wrap one of your arms around his waist, as his do the same, pulling you closer, completely against him.

Your friend takes as many pictures as she can of you two smiling, just for memories’ sake, but you, many family members and significant others, are interrupted by the usual voice saying a ‘please stay on the stands and do not step on the grass’ blah blah blah.

“Thank you.” You thank your friend as she shows you the pictures from her place up the stands.

Rafe holds your waist close to him and, just like any other guy around him, he helps you up. But... Rafe is Rafe. He can only fight his urges to some extent.

As soon as your hands grab the top railing and you stand safely at the top, his hand lands a loud and hard smack on your ass.

God, you hate this man.

You send him a glare and the bastard sends you a cheeky toothy smile, so forced that even his eyes close with his cheeks. You shake your head in a chuckle and jump to the other side of the stands.

“Don’t take too long on the locker room!” You tell him over the loud music and he nods.

You’ll never forgive him for making you wait 2 hours for him to only say ‘Sorry, I had to enjoy the shower while we still had hot water’.

Never. You will take that with you to your grave.

“Sure thing, ma’am!” He says, playfully saluting you.

You smile down at him and take some steps back.

“Wait!” He says, hand on the air.

You walk back close to the railing and he smiles, climbing up the stands again.

“I deserve one more kiss, no?” He questions, standing right at eye level with you.

You bring his hair back, not letting it fall back on his eyes and cup his cheeks, giving him the kiss he so wanted and wasn’t able to get when you were standing beside him.

Rafe’s free hand holds you close to him by the back of your head, but you pull away quickly as soon as you feel his tongue touch your bottom lip.

“We are not doing all of that here.” You warn him.

He stares back at you.

“I’ll wait in the car.” You say, your lips hovering over his, pressing a last kiss on his lips.

He jumps back down to the grass and stares as you turn to grab your things from your seat.

His last name is written across your back as well as his number. A dark blue jersey matching the one he is wearing right now.

Your friend stands beside you, so that the both of you can leave, and you give him a last look before he has to step away with his team and resume his celebrations while you go to the car.

He steps back from the stands, eyes on you and on his jersey. Rafe loves to see you wear it, it awakens some sort of possessiveness in him, but, god, he is dreading to take it off of you.

Is this good? Because I love the idea of qb!rafe, but I don’t know shit about American football, and wrote this on a free morning. Help.

If you guys enjoyed this, I’ll write a fic with qb!rafe and maybe some more imagines of him just being a jock...? Maybe?

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #outer banks rafe #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron imagines #drew starkey #outer banks #netflix outer banks #rafe outer banks #obx #obx netflix

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gotnofucks · 4 years

Text

(updated 26 October 2021)

MARVEL

+++++

Steve Rogers

One-Shots

Choose : Steve realizes he can’t let you go when you’re stuck in a safe house with him (dark!steve x reader)

Ball's In Your Court : Steve and Y/n have been playing games for years. But now that Rogers is acting like a little bitch, Y/n throws him a curve ball that will either make them or break them.

Pot of Gold : You went broke and bet your pussy.

Special Training : Steve takes special interest in your training (dark!Steve x Reader)

Nectar: Steve's waited a long time to have you again after the birth of your daughter. (soft!dark King Steve x Reader)

Their Poison : A billionaire, a sorcerer and a soldier walk into a bar. Their only poison of choice is you. (Dark!Steve x dark!Tony x dark!Stephen x reader)

The Airport Cliché : You make sure your love story has the necessary cliché to make it legit.

No One's Bitch: If Steve thought you'll bend to his will, he was dead wrong. This kitty has some claws (dark!Steve x Reader)

Bartered: You were his, despite wearing another man's ring on your hand. (Dark!Steve x Reader)

Renewing Vows: Steve reminds you of your promises as his wife. (Dark!Steve x Reader)

Colour Me Red: Your boss is chasing you like the proverbial hound of hell, and one vibrant shade of red is going to be his undoing, and yours.

Midnight Adventures: He thinks you’re trying to escape him, even though he’d made it clear who you belong to. Though the truth is far more innocuous than that. (soft!dark Steve x Reader)

Lover's Quarrel: You have the powers to resurrect if you’ve been murdered, and a jealous Steve Rogers indulges heavily in your abilities. He would not let you steal his best friend, that was for sure. So what, if your rivalry regularly caused fire and harm to public property? You just couldn’t let the other win.

The Journey to Daddy: Five times you call Steve 'daddy', and one time he asks you to.

In Mind and Heart : When your former supersoldier lover shows up at your door a year later, the last thing you expect him to do is ask for another fuck. You let in him because of friendship, and he refused to let you go because of love. This was not how it was supposed to go. (Soft!dark Steve x Reader)

Murder at the Whorehouse : When Sergeant Barnes assigns you a murder case at the brothel, you didn’t know you’d cross paths with Steve Rogers who was a bigger mystery than the case itself. (Ft. Stucky x Reader)

Series

At His Alter: You fall in love with a man already belonging to someone else. (Priest!Steve)

Condemned To Him: It’s hard to love someone you were meant to hate. But Steve doesn’t care, and he will have your love no matter how much you deny it. (soft!dark!Steve x Reader)

Happily Ever After : Steve won't take no for an answer (dark!Steve x Reader)

Happily Ever After-2 : You are welcomed in your new life, as the bride of Steve Rogers (dark!Steve x Reader)

Drabbles/Blurbs/Headcanons

Post Traumatic Fuck Fest (Steve Rogers)

Please Hurt me (Mob!Steve Rogers)

Peeping Tom (Steve Rogers)

+++++

Bucky Barnes

One-Shots

Madness, Thy name is Barnes: You and Bucky put on a show for the team

Night Ritual : You and Bucky have a night time ritual

Lovely Shade of Green : Jealousy is a very good look on your boyfriend

Fallen Together : Bucky and you spend a winter morning in each other's arms

Hide-And-Eat : Nothing stops Bucky when he's hungry for you.

Gluttony is a Sin : You and Bucky put a little something extra in your food and Sam learns Gluttony is a sin for a reason

Promised to Him : You return back to your town after years, hoping to start anew. But faces of the past reappear, set to fulfill promises you had made years ago. (dark!Biker!Bucky x Reader)

To the beat of sin : In the heat of music, you do something that makes Bucky mad. He reminds you of who you belong you, but you have a lesson for him too. (rockstar!Bucky x rockstar!reader)

The Second Coming: You were about to marry the love of your life. You were ready to be happy and determined to be a good wife. But then he returned. Your past came into your life to remind you that he would never let you go, and there is little you could do to stop him. (Royal AU) (dark!Bucky x Reader, ft. Peter Parker)

A Sack of Skin: You had thought burying him would have rid you of him. But he came back to haunt you in the worst way possible. (Dark! Ghost!Bucky x Reader, Possessed!Steve x Reader)

Drabbles/Blurbs/Headcanons

A love there is no cure for (WS Bucky)

+++++

Steve x Reader x Bucky

One-Shots

Going Against Nature : Steve and Bucky would change the laws of nature if that’s what would take to make you theirs. or: Steve and Bucky don’t like it when you smell like Peter Parker. (dark!alpha!Steve x reader, dark!alpha!Bucky x reader) A/B/O

Meet the Parents : You're daddies little girl and Peter wants to take you out (featuring Peter Parker)

Murder at the Whorehouse : When Sergeant Barnes assigns you a murder case at the brothel, you didn’t know you’d cross paths with Steve Rogers who was a bigger mystery than the case itself.

Series

•Master of His Own Fate: As far as Bucky knew, fate would not decide who you belong to. Very twisted dark soulmate AU. (dark!Bucky x Reader, dark!Steve x Reader)

Master of His Own Fate-2

•Their Surrogate : When Steve and Bucky ask you to be the surrogate mother for their child, you couldn’t say no. (dark!Steve x Reader, dark!Bucky x Reader)

Their Surrogate - 2 Their Surrogate-3 (completed)

Drabbles/Blurbs/Headcanons

Bound and Blindfolded (Stucky x Reader)

+++++

Stephen Strange

Congruence : Stephen and Loki want you. You are confused. Wong is an angsty person. (featuring Loki)

Their Poison : A billionaire, a sorcerer and a soldier walk into a bar. Their only poison of choice is you. (Dark!Steve x dark!Tony x dark!Stephen x reader)

+++++

Loki

Congruence : Stephen and Loki want you. You are confused. Wong is an angsty person. (featuring Stephen Strange)

+++++

Tony Stark

Series

•My Little Girl: Prince Tony hunts you on the royal hunting trip (dark!Tony Stark x reader)

My Little Girl - 2: Prince Tony has taken you, but keeping you proves more difficult that he imagined. (dark!Tony Stark x reader, slight dark!Steve x reader)

My Little Girl-3

One-Shots

Their Poison : A billionaire, a sorcerer and a soldier walk into a bar. Their only poison of choice is you. (Dark!Steve x dark!Tony x dark!Stephen x reader)

+++++

Peter Parker

Protected : How were you to know who's a monster, who's a savior when they all hide behind a mask (dark!Peter x reader)

Meet the Parents : You're daddies little girl and Peter wants to take you out (featuring Stucky)

+++++

SamBucky

Parts of Whole: Steve would see his OTP's ship sail, even from across the grave (ft. Steve Rogers)

Sam Wilson

To Sin in Love: You're forced to choose between the man who owns your heart and the one who owns your soul. (Ft. Lucifer)

RANSOM DRYSDALE

One-Shots

One Day : Ransom meets sub!reader but she won’t kneel for him

Thirty One Days : Ransom and you are on a month-long challenge. Who will win and what are the stakes?

The Unreformed Rake: Ransom Drysdale is a notorious rake, but he seems to have taken a shine to you. When he plans to make you his, nothing would stand in his way. No is not a word he understands. (Soft!dark Ransom x Reader)

The Fated Mate: Ransom always knew he’d be your alpha. Despite you not presenting yet, he just knew you were meant to be his. No matter how much you ran, you always found him waiting for you at the end of the line. They said it was fated, and sometimes fate was a bitch. (A/B/O)

Sleeping Beauty: He waits for sleep to claim you, so that he can do the same later (dark!Ransom Drysdale x Reader) Kinktober Day 1

Drabbles/Blurbs/Headcanons

Breeding Kink + Housewife Kink w/Ransom

ANDY BARBER

One-Shots

Golden Cage : You asked Andy to take your case and he asked for you to give yourself to him as payment. (soft!dark!Andy Barber x Reader)

Trespassing : You trespass on forbidden land, catching the eye of the creature that dwells within. (dark!demon!Andy Barber x Reader)

No Judgements: An Omega in heat is never fit to make a fair judgement, especially not when her delicious meat of an Alpha is concerned. (A/B/O)

His Responsibility : When you're pregnant and scared, Andy decides he will take the responsibility, whether you want it or not. (dark!Andy x reader)

A Man's World: To advance in a man’s world, you must allow one to own you. He promises you success, as long as you give yourself to him. (soft!dark!Andy Barber x Reader)

LEE BODECKER

One-Shots

Sweet Tooth : Sheriff, you and his sweet tooth

The Claiming of the Sheriff: You wanted him, he wanted you. But he was too honourable and you were too greedy. So you made the choice for both of you. (dadsbestfriend!Lee x soft!dark Reader)

Series

•Sell My Soul : You cut a deal with the Sheriff to save your brother (dark!Lee Bodecker x Reader)

Sell My Soul -2 : Your husbands finds a secret you’ve been keeping and he is not happy. (dark!Lee Bodecker x Reader)

Sell My Soul - 3 : Last part to the series (soft!dark!Lee Bodecker x Reader)

Drabbles Masterlist

SHERLOCK HOLMES

One-Shots

What's Your Escape : Sherlock could never resist a mystery, especially not one as deliciously wrapped as you (dark!Sherlock Holmes x reader)

Death by Pleasure : Death by Pleasure isn't a thing. Is it? (Dark!Sherlock Holmes x Reader)

Drabbles/Blurbs/Headcanons

A worthy throne (Sherlock Holmes)

CHRIS EVANS

One-Shots

Loving Dodger : Your journey of overcoming your fear of dogs to loving Dodger.

Muse Music : Chris plays for you

Chemical Romance: Chris won't have you running away from him. You're his. He owns your heart, and now he'll own all of you.

AUGUST WALKER

One-Shots

Compromise: Your surrender to him would ensure the safety of the world (dark!August Walker x Reader)

Prometheus: You disappoint August and must make up for it

Drabbles/Blurbs/Headcanons

Pluto is not a Planet (Hades! August Walker)

LUCIFER

To Sin in Love: You're forced to choose between the man who owns your heart and the one who owns your soul. (Ft. Sam Wilson)

JAKE JENSEN

At the Dinner Table: Request: How about Jake Jensen meeting the reader's parents for the first time and since he's an adorkable idiot, chaos ensues?

Drabbles/Headcanons/Blurbs (Miscellaneous/Multi-characters and fandoms)

When you feel ugly and the boys won't have it (BB, SR, LB, TS, RD, LL, SH)

When Reader is tall and slim and not curvy (SR, BB, RD, LB, AB)

Dick Fingers (very weird ask)

Detention (Severus Snape hc)

Remedial Potions (dark! Severus Snape)

Does your mother know (Hook)

When Reader has anorexia and body image issues (BB, LB, LL)

BODY POSITIVITY CHALLENGE

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the-wild-wolves-around-you · 3 years

Text

hear those bells ring deep in the soul (a katsuki bakugo/reader fic)

Summary: Pro Hero Dynamight was Japan’s Number Two Hero. He'd worked hard to achieve his position, his fame. And now it was all going down the damn drain, along with his hearing.

~*~*

Bakugo is suffering from hearing loss as a side effect of his quirk, and he struggles with how to face this new challenge. Enter Reader with a healing quirk.

Pairings: Katsuki Bakugo/Reader; Katsuki Bakugo/You

Rating: M(ature)

Warnings: Blood & violence.

A/N: No spoilers or anything. This is just a self-indulgent AU fic with aged up characters. Everyone’s in their mid-20s. Fic title is from a song called “Achilles Come Down.”

Ao3 Link: Here

*****A/N Part 2: This post has now been updated to include the links to Ch 2

Ch 2 Tumblr Link: Here

Pro Hero Dynamight was Japan’s Number Two Hero. Actually, he’d argue he was tied for first place with the current Symbol of Peace, Shitty Deku. Their victory statistics were basically the fucking same, the only difference was the freckled idiot was made of smiles and sunshine and stupid fucking sugar or something. The whole world ate out of his scarred, fucked up hand, and Darling Deku ate up all the media’s attention in return.

In contrast, Bakugo wasn’t a “people person,” as Deku loved to put it, but… he also wasn’t the same fifteen-year-old brat who got muzzled on live national television. Pro Hero Dynamight was known for his crass, blunt language, his vicious streak of justice when it came to villains, but people also looked up to him. Extras cheered for him in the streets as he exploded past mid-battle. Children ran up to him on patrol and asked him to sign their books, their photos, their Dynamight merch. On one memorable occasion, that he may or may not have saved on his computer, a national news channel ran a live clip from a disaster site, a villain attack turned rescue mission after a building collapsed. The soundbite was only thirty seconds, a close up of a pale, dusty woman with a shallow cut on her brow. The splash of crimson and her bloodshot blue eyes were the only spots of color on her, everything else washed out in white plaster and cement dust, tear tracks carving grooves down her cheeks.

But the smile on her face could have lit up goddamn Tokyo.

“Dynamight saved us,” the woman had said to the news reporter, her voice full of awe and tears. “I-I got stuck under some debris, but I heard the moment Dynamight arrived, and I just knew we were safe. The battle was over a minute later, and then he just… pulled me out of the wreckage. He pulled us all out. He’s… the greatest hero I’ve ever seen.”

That was a nice stroke to his ego. And the dazed woman had been right. He had pulled everyone out of that building, and not a single person died that day, which only confirmed what he already knew:

Katsuki Bakugo was the best of the best. Deku might have been the better show pony, but Dynamight was an undefeated hero, fierce, fearless, ferocious.

Except right now… he was fucking scared out of his mind.

This couldn’t be happening.

“What?” he snarled at the extra in the white coat standing before him.

The man flinched and visibly recoiled, shuffling back a step and partially ducking behind his tablet device. When he spoke again, he’d raised his voice an entire fucking octave.

“I-I’m sorry, sir,” the doctor stammered, but then he seemed to regain his composure and lowered his voice a little. “I… I wish I had better news for you, Dynamight, but…”

He trailed off and swallowed, the jut of his Adam’s apple bobbing beneath the thin skin of his throat.

“But what?” Bakugo spat, something like magma roiling in his veins, pops of heat crackling against his palms like splatters of hot oil from a stove.

“B-But this… can’t come as a complete shock to you,” the doctor said as he glanced back at his tablet. “Other physicians before myself must have warned you of the risks.”

The risks. Bakugo bared his teeth in a silent snarl. What did this fucking extra, with his soft hands and softer body, know about risks? The heat in his palms grew until he could see their red-hot glow out of the corner of his eye.

“Well, who and how much do I gotta pay to fix it?” Bakugo demanded as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

“That depends,” the doctor hedged and adjusted the square black glasses perched on his stupid face. “There are a variety of aid types—”

“I don’t want fuckin’ support gear or aids,” Bakugo sneered. “I want mine fixed.”

Now, the doctor’s face grew pitying. “I’m afraid that’s just not possible, given a number of factors, most importantly your current occupation.”

“My current occupation?” the hero seethed, teeth bared again like a wounded dog, a cornered wolf, snapping at the world. “Are you fucking KIDDING—”

A hint of fear sparked in the doctor’s eyes, but he suddenly raised a hand, palm out in the universal symbol for stop. “Dynamight, sir, I know this is distressing, but there are other sick patients in these walls, so please refrain from using your quirk.”

“I’m not usin’ shit,” Bakugo snapped, but then the doctor’s eyes flicked downward, and Bakugo followed them to his hands, wreathed in sparks and flares of flames, lit up like a fucking Christmas tree.

The breath stuttered in Bakugo’s lungs.

He hadn’t even felt himself call upon his quirk.

Even worse… he hadn’t heard it when he did.

He dropped his hands quickly, shoving them back in his pockets. Bile rose in his throat, but he washed it down with blood as he bit through his tongue.

“There has to be… something,” he gritted out, curling his hands into fists in their confines. “A healer—”

“Healers are rarer than you think,” the doctor sighed and shook his head. “And what’s more, they’re usually specific and limited. Their abilities are tied to blood types or restricted to relatives or even limbs. One nurse here can only heal femur bones.”

“Bullshit they’re rare, I’ve met at least two goddamn healers just this month,” Bakugo spat. “These paramedics—”

“And how strong where they?” the doctor cut him off again, raising an eyebrow. “You said paramedics, so I’m going to assume their talents mostly lie in the superficial and basic: triage, stopping the bleeding, knitting skin back together, etc.”

“What’s your fucking point?” He was this close to punching the asshole right in the glasses.

“My point is the inner workings of your ear are much more delicate than a broken rib or lacerated arm,” the doctor said in a really condescending tone that Bakugo did not appreciate. “But let’s say you do find a healer specific enough and skilled enough to restore the hearing you have already lost without damaging anything else in the process. What then? I don’t imagine Japan’s Number Two Hero retiring less than ten years after his debut and hanging up his quirk.”

Bakugo scowled, heart kick-starting in his chest, his gut tying itself in a knot.

No. No, that wasn’t possible. Katsuki Bakugo was a hero, the best of the best. It was all he’d ever wanted, and he would be damned if it was taken from him.

The doctor must have seen as much on the blond’s face because he sighed and adjusted his glasses again. “Exactly. Which means you’re just going to keep destroying your ears again and again, and even if say Recovery Girl was still alive, the repetitive healing sessions would destroy your own body’s healing factor, and after a while, you would still lose you’re hearing.”

“Tch.” Bakugo looked away and gritted his teeth so hard they ached.

The doctor sighed. “You’re already at moderate hearing loss, Dynamight, so while we do still have some options, they are limited. Honestly… I’m surprised you didn’t come in sooner.”

He should have. He fucking should have. He’d been noticing little things for years, but he just brushed it off, yelled at Deku to speak the fuck up and stop mumbling, told himself his phone must be a piece of shit and that’s why he didn’t hear a call or message. The low persistent ringing he’d been experiencing since UA was harder to write off, but after a while, it was also easier to ignore.

Then, on his last mission, Bakugo was shoving some weak ass villain at a couple of cops. The battle had lasted less than five minutes, and he was still itching for a fight, his quirk burning just beneath the surface of his skin, like embers waiting to explode back into flame. In the next moment, a hand had suddenly clamped down on his shoulder from behind, and he’d reacted out of reflex, flipping his attacker over his shoulder and nearly blasting them in the gut for good measure.

“Whoa! Fuck, dude, it’s me!” Kirishima had yelped, his skin rippling and hardening in an instant. Wide, red eyes gaped up at him, and Japan’s Number Three Hero even looked a little worried. “Didn’t you hear me? I called your name like five times.”

Bakugo had dropped Red Riot like he was on fire. No. No, Dynamight hadn’t heard his patrol partner. In fact, all he could hear in the moment was the muted wailing of sirens, the low murmur of shouting extras, and the blood roaring in his head.

Now, two days later he was standing in front of a doctor who was telling him there was nothing more they could do.

But that was fucking unacceptable. He couldn’t lose his hearing. What kind of shitty hero would he be if he couldn’t hear where the villains were in battle or where stupid extras in need of saving were in rescue situations?

He wouldn’t be a hero at all, just a fucking liability.

Bakugo tried to imagine having to retire, to hang up his hero costume, to leave Shitty Hair in charge of their joint agency. What would he do? He’d wanted, and planned, to be a hero since he was five years old. He had no other skills, not really. It wasn’t like he could work a damn desk job. Well, UA might throw him a bone, offer him a pity faculty position.

The thought left a sour taste in his mouth.

“What… are my options?” he asked haltingly as he snapped his eyes up and locked gazes with the doctor. “You said I still had some.”

The man in the white coat blinked in surprise, but then he straightened up and tapped at his tablet. “Currently, you have a few options, but you’d receive the best outcome if we did them all together. First, we can get you fitted for some hearing aids for you to wear while you are off duty. They would significantly increase your hearing capacity in your normal day-to-day life.”

Bakugo felt his face pull into a scowl. “Off duty? I need them while I’m on duty!”

“If you wear them while using your quirk, you’ll ruin the rest of your hearing in one blow,” the doctor said with a straight face. “Hearing aids amplify sounds. Amplifying your explosions is the last thing we want.”

“Well, what the fuck am I supposed to do then?” the hero snapped, heat flaring through his body with a supernova.

“Since I assume you’re going to continue your hero work, I would recommend contacting a support gear company.” The doctor made a note on his tablet. “We’ll email you the contact information for several companies the hospital has connections with, and once you chose one, we can send them your file. There are numerous noise-cancelling devices out there, but given your situation, you will probably need to collaborate with them for something custom. The goal is to having something to protect your ears-- a helmet, headphones, anything really—while you are using your quirk. Between such a device and the hearing aids, I hope we can preserve what’s left of your hearing and maybe give you a little bit back. But I will warn you… you’re hearing will never be as it was. You should know that now.”

You’re hearing will never be as it was.

The words cycloned through Bakugo’s head, round and round and round, destroying every other thought in their path. He felt detached from himself, the doctor’s voice fizzling out into a muffled drone. His vision seemed to narrow and darken, like he was viewing the world at the end of a very long and dark tunnel. One minute, he was standing there in that examine room, and then he blinked and was on the street, people rushing past him like a river unbothered by the boulder in its current.

He glanced down at his hand, at the paperwork for his follow up appointment and his fitting for the hearing aids. Heat squirmed under his skin, in his veins, like something living, something that wanted to get out.

Bakugo bared his teeth, crumpled the paper in his fist, and let the heat rush through his body, down through his arm, and into his hand. He didn’t hear the crackle, but he saw the flares of light, trapped between his palm and the paperwork like fireflies.

Then he opened his hand, and he watched the wind catch the ash and carry if off down the street, out of sight.

He needed a fucking drink.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Several hours later, Bakugo stumbled out of his usual dive bar, the taste of whisky still burning a hole through the back of his throat. The night was colder than he anticipated, colder than it should be for the beginning of autumn, and he grumbled and cursed as he hunched against the wind. He squinted at his phone, debating on whether to call a car, but in the end it was too much trouble. He was less than a half an hour’s walk from his apartment, and it was late, so he wouldn’t have to worry about extras coming up to him for photos or goddamn autographs.

Besides, the whisky hadn’t helped to quench the heat writhing through his veins, in fact the alcohol only made it worse. Bakugo felt restless, all pins and needles and ants, so maybe the brisk walk would burn off some of that energy.

Decided, Bakugo turned in the direction of home and began the long, stumbling journey through the midnight streets.

Time passed as sluggishly as his feet, which he made sure to stare down at so he didn’t trip over them. Like he anticipated, he passed no one on the sidewalks, and few cars rumbled past him. It wasn’t surprising, this neighborhood was mostly shops that closed by sundown and a few residences. The dive bar he’d left was a holdover from past decades when this side of town was rougher, but Bakugo suspected the old man who owned the joint would live on for at least another decade, if only to spite the development companies that kept trying to buy him out. The ornery bastard was half the reason Bakugo loved that bar, the other half being their decent whisky and usually empty stools.

“Shit,” he mumbled as he suddenly slipped, tittering on the edge of the curb.

He shook his head and managed to regain his balance, but when he took another step, he wobbled again.

“Come on, you drunk idiot,” he hissed at himself as he stumbled once more.

Except… he’d been standing still that time.

“Hah?” Bakugo squinted down at his feet.

The pebbles around his shoes rattled and jumped. He didn’t think he was that drunk, but he slapped his cheek with a bit of heat to his palm. The snap of warmth and pain woke him up a little, but when he glanced back down at the ground, everything was still moving.

“What the fu—”

Then the road undulated under his feet like a living thing, and the shockwave hit him a moment later.

Bakugo barked a curse as he was bucked several feet into the air, twin explosions blooming from his palms so he could right himself and land on his feet. He snapped his head up as he skidded to a stop, and the breath stilled in his lungs.

Up ahead, a man stood in the middle of the intersection, staring down the road to Bakugo’s left. Black rubble and goo floated around him like asteroids trapped in a planet’s orbit, and even from a distance, Bakugo could see the crazed smile on the man’s pale, black-streaked face.

A moment later, several heroes lunged out from around the corner and barreled straight for the villain, only to be blasted backwards as the villain flung out his hands and commanded the black debris and goo to slam into the idiots.

The villain threw back his head and seemed to laugh maniacally. Bakugo couldn’t hear it, but that didn’t matter. Lava was starting to boil in his veins, burning off the last of the whisky, and Dynamight felt an equally crazed smile stretch across his mouth.

This idiot had chosen the wrong road to fuck up tonight.

Heat condensed in his palms like collapsing stars, and then he was exploding forward, the taste of ozone and nitroglycerin on his tongue.

Within moments, Bakugo was able to determine the villain’s quirk revolved around asphalt. The bastard was able to pull large chunks of it out of the road and then liquify parts of them until they were scalding and sticky.

The other heroes—whoever they were, Bakugo didn’t even care to check—struggled to evade the villain’s attacks, but evasion wasn’t Dynamight’s style. He came at the bastard head on, exploding every rock and tar puddle in his way.

Of course, asphalt was flammable, so flames were flaring up all around the street now, but Bakugo wasn’t stupid enough to get burned. If the other heroes were, that was on them.

Dynamight was here to get the job done.

“Come here, ya sonvabitch,” Bakugo snarled as he blasted apart a chunk of asphalt aimed for his head.

The villain shrieked out something high-pitched that Bakugo didn’t catch, and then the fucker was swinging out his arm, a blob of black tar following the arc.

Bakugo let out a controlled burst toward his feet and backflipped through the air, crunching down on the roof of a parked car. He could see some of the other heroes waving at him from the corner of his eye, but he couldn’t hear what they were saying over the wailing of the car alarm below him.

The villain’s sneer was a white slash on his black, goo-streaked face, and Bakugo bared his teeth back in an expression halfway between a feral grin and a beast’s snarl. He could feel the heat crackling along his palms as he contemplated his next move, but then the villain shouted something, and all the asphalt floating in the air rocketed back towards him like the fucker was a magnet.

As Bakugo watched, the debris and goo coalesced into a singular shape, liquifying and hardening in turns until a giant black arm the size of a semi was hovering over the road. The fingers wiggled in a jaunty little wave as the villain shouted something again that was lost to the car’s still wailing alarm, and then the giant hand curled into a fist and dropped down on Bakugo like the hammer of some god.

He exploded out of the way and up into the air right before the fist smashed into the car he’d been standing on, and the siren cut out with a muffled crunch.

Bakugo had barely landed before the arm was shooting out again, but this time it wasn’t aimed for him.

A stupid fucking extra had stumbled out of one of the buildings and stood gaping like a goddamn moron on the sidewalk. Several of the on-scene heroes rushed forward, but the hand swatted them aside like annoying flies. The idiot civilian was still just standing there, though, and Bakugo found himself airborne before he could even process the thought.

“Run!” he roared as he reached the extra and shoved him out of the way, but an instant later, he felt stony fingers wrap around his torso and squeeze.

Bakugo wheezed out a curse as the giant hand lifted him into the sky, the pressure around his ribs increasing with every second. The asphalt was hot in some places, too, scalding the skin of his left arm where it was pinned against his hip. He wrenched his right arm around and tried to aim at the wrist of the asphalt appendage, but the angle was off, and the few chunks he was able to blast were quickly replaced by more rubble and boiling tar.

“Fuck!” Bakugo screamed as the fist clenched down around him. His ribs strained, his lungs unable to expand, pain licking at him like the flames flickering in his peripherals.

Distantly, he heard the villain’s laughter below him, and as the arm swayed to the side, Bakugo realized he was right above the bastard. His vision swam, his ribs screaming, his arm burning, but Bakugo gritted his teeth as he aimed his right palm down. He concentrated every ounce of his quirk into his hand until it glowed white-hot, and the asphalt around him began to liquefy again.

The villain’s eyes widened as he realized what the hero was doing, and the fucker wildly swung out his arm in a last-ditch effort. The giant asphalt limb responded in kind, but Bakugo unleashed his quirk right before the arm flung him through the air.

A massive explosion rocked the street an instant later, and the subsequent shockwave slammed into his back and propelled him through a window.

He felt the impact and pain as he struck the glass, and then…

Nothing.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Ouch, fuck!” you cursed as your pricked yourself for the millionth time.

A red drop of blood beaded up on the pad of your index finger, and you scowled before you sucked the smarting appendage into your mouth. It was more of a reflex than anything, since by the time you pulled your finger out, the pinprick of a wound was already healed. Healing such a small injury would usually barely even register to you, but the clock above your desk was inching closer and closer to midnight, and you’d been up since 6am. You also skipped dinner so you could finish altering the dress you were currently working on, which didn’t help your energy levels, but you were just a few stitches away from completing your task, so you hunched back over and powered through the next five minutes.

When you were finally done, you sat back in your chair with a sigh and threw down your needle and thread. The sewing table before you swam and doubled as your vision struggled to focus on something, and you rubbed at your tired, burning eyes. You always tried to work reasonable hours, have a healthy work-life balance, but somehow you always found yourself slaving away into the dark hours of the night. You tried to tell yourself it wasn’t your fault. You’d lived here less than a year, so you didn’t know many people beyond your few neighbors and the old ladies who frequented your alterations shop.

You were also trying very hard to keep your grandparents’ business afloat.

Your grandfather had been a tailor, your grandmother a seamstress. They’d opened a shop together over fifty years ago, and if your parents hadn’t moved to America before you were born, you were sure you father would have taken over the family business. In the end, though, after your grandparents passed, you were the one to take up the needle and pull up your roots. You’d always loved making your own clothes, and you’d always felt… disconnected in America. Nothing had ever felt… right, no matter how many jobs you hopped around to. The US had been the only home you’d ever known, but when you and your parents spoke Japanese together, it had made something ache deep in the center of you, something you couldn’t name or place.

So, when your father said he was taking a trip to the homeland to sell his parents’ shop, you’d gone with him and somehow convinced him to sign everything over to you. Which was more than just a little insane. Your prior work history had been in food service and clothing retail, and your degree was in linguistics for fuck’s sake. You had no idea how to run a business, let alone in another country. Thankfully, you spoke Japanese fluently, so that had been one less hurtle to overcome, but everything else had been a dramatic learning curve. Getting to know the new city, figuring out the currency, hell even navigating the vastly different social norms of Japanese culture was daunting, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t have numerous fumbles along the way.

It, everything, had definitely taken some getting used to.

Now, a year later, things were just starting to really look up. You had used most of the money your grandparents left you to renovate the shop, get new equipment, and fix the upstairs apartment you lived in. About two dozen loyal customers helped to pay your bills and keep you afloat, and one-to-two new customers walked into your shop each month just on word of mouth. You weren’t rich by any means, but you weren’t struggling like you did in America. You felt… happy here, if a little tired. Fulfilled.

That might also have had something to do with your little… side business.

You bit your lip as your eyes shot to your window guiltily, like someone was watching you. You weren’t doing anything wrong—right now, anyways—but for the last six months, it’s been hard to shake off your paranoia.

And your guilt. Which was ridiculous. You weren’t hurting anyone. In fact, you were doing the exact opposite.

But it was still against the law. Here in Japan, at least.

That was another thing that took some getting used to. The Japanese government had strict laws on quirk usage, unlike in America where everything was about individualistic rights. In Japan, only heroes were given almost free reign, but even they had some restrictions on when and how they could use their powers.

For the rest of the Japanese populace, using quirks in day-to-day life, without official permission, was frowned upon at best and illegal at worst.

Because of your specific quirk, you leaned more toward the illegal side of things.

Healing quirks were rare. That’s what you’d been told all your life. Your mother’s quirk was the ability to lower fevers by somehow using her own body to regulate the temperature. Nothing super special or powerful, but she’d gone on to become a pediatric nurse, so she had used her quirk to its fullest and made a long, happy career for herself.

When you were young and your quirk manifested, you thought you would follow in your mother’s footsteps.

But as a teenager, you’d come to some hard realizations about yourself.

One, you weren’t strong enough to be a hero. You’d tried to get into a hero course in the States, several in fact. One course rejected you solely on your application, and then you failed two entrance exams. It had been a devastating blow to your youthful dreams and self-esteem, but your mother encouraged you, said being a hero wasn’t the only way to use your quirk for good.

So, you turned your focus to medicine… and quickly discovered that wasn’t right for you, either. Your mother hated when you said this but… you just weren’t smart enough. You had tried, really did, but everything was such a struggle, like Sisyphus slogging uphill through the mud. It just didn’t click for you like it did for your mom. You also hated to admit it, but you were a little squeamish. You were fine with small stuff, cuts and bruises, broken fingers, but once you had to dissect a large pig in an anatomy class, and the smell and weight of the pig’s slippery organs in your hands made your lunch rise up into the back of your throat. You somehow managed to make it through the class, but directly after you ran to the bathroom and emptied your own guts into the toilet.

With your dreams of being a hero and doctor dashed, you’d been a little aimless in college, taking random courses to fill your time and see if anything spoke to you. Then, during an 8am linguistics lecture you signed up for on a whim, something ignited inside you. Languages spoke to you like science and medicine never did. So, you’d changed your major to linguistics, minored in Japanese to feel closer to your parents, and took ever other language credit you could get your hands on. In between classes, you’d taken up sewing again while you listened to your audio assignments. It was just something to keep your hands busy at first, a skill your father taught you as a child until you abandoned it, but then your roommates complimented your work and started asking you to hem their jeans or take in their skirts. They offered to pay you, but you always declined, saying it was no trouble, you liked the work, and you liked being able to help.

At some point, you realized that was all you had ever wanted to do. Help people. And if you couldn’t save them as a hero, you would find some other way to make yourself useful.

So, you studied languages in the hopes of being able to help others communicate. You altered your friends’ clothes and made them small things like a monogrammed scarf or mittens. And, occasionally, you healed your roommates’ hangovers or food poisoning, stopped the bleeding when they cut their fingers making dinner, pushing through their pain to make them whole again. It wasn’t a lot, nothing really, but it was something, and it made you feel purposeful.

When you moved to Japan, you mourned the loss of being able to use your quirk on others, but you shoved the thought aside and focused on your work and the shop and figuring out how to settle down in your first home on your own.

Then, six months after you took over the shop, Mrs. Kojima, a little old lady in her seventies, had brought in her grandchildren’s uniforms to be patched and altered. She’d known your grandparents for many years, so she was always kind and had a story to share with you about your father in his youth or the gorgeous dresses your grandmother used to make. You always looked forward to Mrs. Kojima’s visits, and she always had a way of making you feel younger than you were, but not in a bad way. She just made you feel… nostalgic and safe, like you were listening to your late grandma talk over the phone.

This was probably why, when Mrs. Kojima slipped and fell in front of your counter, you reacted without thinking. The old lady barely had time to hit the floor and cry out before you were hovering over her, a green aura illuminating your hands. Her pain hit you a moment later, like a heated slap to the face, a bone-deep ache in your leg, but you gritted your teeth and pushed through the discomfort. Then you moved your fingers over to the hip Mrs. Kojima was clutching, and a moment later you felt the drain as your energy siphoned into the elderly woman’s body. Thankfully, it had only been a fracture, not a full break, so you barely even felt the difference in your strength, but as Mrs. Kojima gaped up at you, realization struck you like a freight train.

You had used your quirk, without a license, without permission, hell without the consent of Mrs. Kojima. Healing quirks were illegal for a reason, so many things could go wrong, and you weren’t properly trained. Your breathing hitched as panic seized your heart, squeezing like a vise, and your entire world had just begun to crash down around your ears when Mrs. Kojima sat up and threw her arms around you.

“Thank you,” she’d sniffled into your hair in Japanese. “Thank you so much.”

After the initial shock wore off, you had helped Mrs. Kojima into a chair, and she’d continued to thank you over and over again, saying how money was tight and she would have hated to be a burden to her children with hospital bills and a long recovery. She talked about how a lot of her elderly friends were in similar positions, dealing with perpetual aches and pains but having no way to pay for treatment or seek relief.

The sadness in her face had twisted something in your chest, an ache you were all too familiar with. It was the one you felt after you failed the hero course entrance exams. The ache you felt when you realized you could never be a doctor. The ache of being helpless in the face of suffering.

Your mouth had opened without your permission, and you told Mrs. Kojima that you would help her, and her friends, whenever they needed it. The elderly Japanese woman tried to wave you off, saying she didn’t want to get you in any trouble, but you had just smiled and said, “I’m fine with making a little good trouble.”

You didn’t know where your courage had come from, but you let it carry you past your fears and doubts.

So, for the last six months, Mrs. Kojima had brought all of her friends, and sometimes their children and grandchildren, to you when they were in need of healing. They always brought dresses or pants or blouses for you to fix as a cover, and you did do alterations work for them, but you also eased flaring arthritis, cataracts, fevers, and scrapped knees in the backroom. You refused to take payment for these secret services, it just felt wrong, but the little old ladies somehow always snuck large “tips” into your register when you weren’t looking.

Mrs. Kojima and every one of her friends and family members swore to their ancestors to keep your secret, and you trusted them, but you still couldn’t help proverbially looking over your shoulder, holding your breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop and for the police to barge in and take you away.

It hadn’t happened yet, but the worry of it kept you up most nights, which was maybe another reason why you threw yourself into your work until you were so tired you just passed out.

You sighed again as you stretched and felt your back pop, releasing some of the tension in your spine. Glancing at the clock, you saw it was just past midnight, and you winced. You had to be up at five tomorrow—today, now—because Mr. Akane wanted to come in early before you opened the shop. His bad knee was giving him trouble again, an old injury he’d obtained as a boy. You were unable to fully reconstruct the joint—that took more strength and stamina than you currently possessed—but you were able to soothe his pain for weeks at a time, which he was immensely grateful for. He always brought you fresh fish when he came by, “gifts” he’d emphasized when you reminded him you didn’t take payment, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t appreciate the gesture. You weren’t exactly hurting for money, but you also didn’t normally splurge on fish caught just that morning, and you told yourself you deserved the small treat. Besides, the protein helped boost your energy and stamina levels, which meant you could heal more people, so really Mr. Akane was merely investing in his future treatments.

Your stomach grumbled at the thought of food, and you dragged yourself out of your chair before picking your way across your messy apartment to the kitchen. The apartment wasn’t very large, one large space for kitchen, dining, and living room, with one small bedroom and one bathroom down a hallway to the right when you walked in the front door. But it had been your grandparent’s home for many years before they bought a larger house after having your father, and it sat right above the shop, so you never had to worry about running late for work.

Bolts of fabric, some client pieces, and a few of your own personal sewing projects were strewn over every available surface of the main room, but you had the cleared path through the chaos memorized, so you were tossing leftovers in the microwave barely thirty seconds later. The warmed-up curry and rice—another “gift” from Mrs. Kojima—tasted as good as it had the last several days, and you hummed as the spiced meat slid down your throat and settled in your belly. After the first bite, your hunger seemed to hit you in full force, and you scarfed down every last bite in a matter of minutes. When you were done, the minor headache that had been pulsing behind your eyes abated, and you yawned as you rinsed off the dishes.

You set the damp plate on the edge of the counter as you reached for a towel, but then a sudden tremor, followed by a loud boom, seemed to shake the building, and the plate tittered on the counter’s edge for a moment before it crashed to the floor.

“Fuck!” you gasped as you jumped back and away from the ceramic shards, but another tremor-boom combo had you stumbling, and you scrambled to grab the back of the couch so you didn’t fall on your ass.

Your wide eyes took in the broken plate scattered at your feet before they jumped to the window on the opposite side of the room. The night sky was dark beyond, cut only by the dim street light just beyond the window’s view. You held your breath as your heart hammered in your ears, the hair on the back of your neck prickling, sweat slicking your palms.

What the fuck was that? Your first thought was earthquake—you hadn’t experienced one yet, but you knew they were common in Japan—but then you remembered the booms.

Maybe… maybe an electrical box blew? But no, the lights were still working. A car crash?

Then another boom vibrated you down to your very bones, and you fell to one knee as the breath hitched in your lungs.

That sounded… closer.

With your heart in your throat, you half scrambled, half crawled the last few feet to your window, and you peeked your head over the sill just as a flash off white-hot light lit up the night sky.

“Shit!” You squinted your eyes against the glare as you leaned back from the window, but then you saw a shadow streak through the air before it crashed into a car just at the edge of your peripherals.

You had the distant thought that Mr. Takeyoshi’s vehicle was very obviously totaled before you realized the thing that had crashed into the car was a person.

Your jaw gaped open as a hero pulled himself from the wreckage and shook his head groggily. The shadows—only broken by more flares of light as more explosions and fire seemed to erupt along the street—made it difficult to tell how injured the hero was. You didn’t recognize their yellow and teal costume, but you saw patches of blood along the hero’s bulky frame, and bile burned at the back of your teeth.

Holy shit. This wasn’t an accident. It was a villain attack.

Just as you had the thought, another explosion rattled your windows, making your ears ring, and you snapped your head to the side to see a man standing in the middle of the road about half a block down.

The man—villain, you realized quickly—swung his arms around like a conductor of an orchestra, but his instruments seemed to be the black rocks and liquid swirling around him. The debris glistened like an oil slick in the light of the flames, and as you watched, the villain shouted something and slashed his arm through the air.

Then a figure suddenly exploded onto the scene, lunging out from the shadows in a flare of white-hot light. It moved too fast for you to track, but the villain swung his arm again, and rocks and viscous black goo shot toward the figure still in mid-air.

A futile scream of warning caught in your throat, but then the figure seemed to explode and backflip through the air, landing on his feet but crushing the roof of a car beneath his boots. The wailing of the car’s alarm split the air, and you clenched your teeth until they ached.

The flames illuminated this new man’s face, a snarl of white teeth against the flames and smoke, but only the barest hint of recognition flared through you before everything exploded into chaos again. Another shout from the villain had all the rocks and black slime streaking back towards him, and you watched in horror as a stony black arm fifty feet long formed above the ruined street.

You knew you should be running, trying to find cover, calling the police, but you were glued there, on your knees before the window, you fingers digging grooves into the sill.

The next fifteen seconds seemed to simultaneously happen in slow motion and at hyper speed.

The giant rocky hand wiggled its fingers before it curled into a fist and slammed down on the wailing car and the man atop it.

The man—hero, you distantly thought, although your chaotic thoughts still couldn’t place him—launched up into the air with another explosion that rattled your windows, the car alarm cutting off as the vehicle was crushed an instant later.

The blond skidded into a landing half a dozen yards away, but then you suddenly saw Mr. Takeyoshi standing on the street, a ghostly apparition framed by smoke and flames.

You blinked, and the giant hand shot toward Mr. Takeyoshi, batting away several more heroes who tried to intervene.

Then the explosive hero was just there, pushing Mr. Takeyoshi out of the way, right before the hand wrapped around him.

You could hear the hero’s anguished scream through your window as he was crushed in the fist’s grip, and the sound hit you right in the solar plexus, knocking the breath out of you, bruising your insides, the pain settling into the familiar ache of being helpless in the face of suffering.

You watched uselessly as the hero was lifted up into the sky, struggling, setting off explosions left and right. Then the massive arm seemed to pause in the middle of the road, right above the villain, and your eyes locked onto the hero, his pale hair and skin stark against the black, rocky hand that held him trapped.

In the next instant, a white light, like a star going supernova, bloomed to life around the hero, illuminating the white slash of his snarling teeth before it became too bright for you to take. You slammed your eyes shut against the burning light, and the hair on the back of your neck stood on end, like the moment before lightning struck, as you dropped to the floor below your window.

Then the world exploded, the building shaking to its foundations, right before the window burst into a million shards of glass.

#bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo katuski x reader #bakugo katsuki/reader #bakugo/reader #bakugo katsuki/you #bakugo katsuki x you #my hero academia #mha spoilers #boku no hero academia #bnha #anime #fanfic #my writings #katsuki bakugo

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kaminocasey · 2 years

Text

Come Back to Me Part 9

Summary: You figure out why Crosshair shot Obi-Wan Ben Kenobi.

Pairing: Crosshair x f Jedi!Reader

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 1.5K

A/N: Sorry it's been almost three weeks since an update! One more part to go!

You can find it on AO3 Here!

Previous ︱Next

“Maker, this again?” Echo shouts, tackling Crosshair to the ground.

You’re absolutely horrified. You can’t help but watch in horror and tears, confused and angry. How could he do this? Did he lie somehow about the chip? Was Tech wrong just this once?

Wrecker swiftly kicks the gun away from Crosshair as he struggles underneath Echo, glaring up at you. Hunter pulls Omega behind him, ready for whatever Crosshair tries next. Surely, he wouldn’t try to hurt Omega.

“Get Crosshair out of here!” Hunter tells Wrecker and Echo.

“I knew we should have left him behind.” Echo mumbles to Tech.

They yank Crosshair up and he makes eye contact with you. The Crosshair you know and love is gone, the warmth drained completely out of his eyes. Your heartbreak has to be put on hold as you and Tech tend to Obi-Wan.

“Well, I can honestly say I didn’t see any of this happening.” Obi-Wan jokes, clutching his shoulder. “It’s good to see you, though.”

“You too… I’m so sorry, Obi-Wan.” You wipe away your tears, embarrassed.

He squeezes your hand with reassurance and a smile. “I go by Ben, now.”

“Ben?” You chuckle.

Tech comes to take over to fix Obi-Wan… Ben… up for you.

“I always liked the name Ben.” He smiles that same old smile. “So, who is this?”

“I’m Omega.” She grins widely at him.

And just like you, as if he suddenly senses the force in her, his eyes go wide at the realization. He looks at you and you nod, understanding him.

Please don’t turn her away.

“I feel like there’s a big story here.” He chuckles.

“She’s a clone.” You tell him.

He looks at her again. “A female clone? How is that even possible?”

“The Kaminoans kept a lot of secrets.” You shrug.

Tech begins to give Obi-Wan the same explanation he gave you when they first arrived at your home just days ago. Omega chimes in here and there with the exciting and emotional bits due to Tech just giving the informational parts. They made quite the little duo. It was cute to watch. When Omega starts talking about Crosshair, your heart clenches and you have to excuse yourself.

You knew that Crosshair wasn’t himself. The Empire had to be responsible. You couldn’t even think about the possibility of them not being behind this. If they weren’t… that means that Crosshair has been playing you the entire time… waiting for you to lead him to Obi-Wan… He couldn’t do that to you, could he? He wouldn’t… right?

“He wants to talk to you.” Echo comes back to tell you.

“I don’t know if I can, Echo…” You sigh, wiping your tears.

“He seems to be of sound mind right now, if that’s of any consolation.” He tells you.

“Sound mind?” You ask, angrily.

Echo shrugs. “He’ll only talk to you.”

You sigh then pop your head into Ben’s door. “I’ll be right back.”

Ben nods with a warm smile, enjoying Omega’s storytelling. You walk back to the Marauder with Echo, dread filling you to the brim.

When you step on the Marauder, you make eye contact with Crosshair and he looks absolutely broken. You fight the urge to reach out and comfort him. Wrecker has him tied up to the seat again.

“You have to believe me, that wasn’t my fault.” He pleads.

You can feel the tears in your eyes. “How could I ever trust you again?”

“You can’t.” He looks down for a moment then back up at you. “But I need you to listen to me, okay? Please…”

You look at Echo and Wrecker. They look just as lost and confused as you. Echo looks slightly more irritated. With a sigh, you look back at your lover.

“Okay… I’m listening.” You cross your arms.

“They knocked me out… I have no recollection of the events after getting taken away from you on the bridge to you busting me out of that cell.” He tells you with pleading eyes.

So there was a possibility of them putting some sort of chip back into him.

“I need you to strip.” You tell him.

“Kinda hard to do while tied up.” He replies, snarkily.

You roll your eyes and look at Wrecker to undo him. Echo protests immediately, stopping Wrecker.

“Absolutely not.” Echo glares at Crosshair. “He just wants us to untie him so he can do some more damage.” “Echo, I need to check to see where they put this inhibitor chip. It’s not in his head.” You tell him.

“Fine.” Echo nods for Wrecker to proceed but stands a distance away with his blaster trained on Crosshair.

Wrecker unties Crosshair, cautiously.

“Thank you.” Crosshair tells you.

You shrug. “I just hope you’re telling the truth…”

“I am.” He replies as he peels his shirt off.

It’s difficult to not run your fingers over his tattoos, over his chest and his arms… You missed him. You start to look for any indication that Crosshair may have another inhibitor chip. Maker, you can’t wait for this nightmare to be over.

“I have slight pain in the back of my neck.” Crosshair tells you, softly.

He turns around and there at the base of his skull is a red mark and a bump. You look back at Echo who comms Tech to come back to the ship.

“We need to get to Rex immediately.” You tell Echo, tossing Crosshair his shirt and then softly kissing him. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”

He holds onto you just a little bit longer then whispers in your ear so the others can’t hear him. “You still want to marry me?”

“Of course I do.” You cup his face, looking up into those golden brown eyes you loved so much.

“Wrecker, you need to tie him back up.” Echo tells him.

Wrecker looks at you, clearly upset. You knew that Crosshair and Wrecker were once close. You couldn’t help but feel bad for him, knowing he just wanted his brother back. You were determined to help him.

“I’ve got to go talk to Obi-Wan… I mean Ben… I’ll be back.” You tell Echo as Wrecker starts tying Crosshair back up.

It broke your heart to see him like this. No control over his mind all over again…

When you walk back into Ben’s home, you sense tension from Hunter. You look at Ben and he’s still talking to Omega.

“What’s wrong?” You ask him, quietly.

“He won’t teach Omega…” He replies.

“What?” You ask, confused, looking over at Ben. “You won’t teach her?”

“I can’t.” He tells you, apologetically.

“Why not?” You ask, a tad angrily.

You had traveled all this way… Gone through all this stuff just for him to turn Omega away?

“I am here for another reason.” Ben tells you. “A very important one.”

“What could possibly be so important?” You ask him.

“I am sorry, but I cannot tell you.” He tells you, walking over to the kettle on the stove.

He looks down at it, keeping his hand on the handle, not moving. You can sense much conflict in him.

“We’ll be on the ship.” Hunter tells you.

You nod and walk over to him. “Master… Everyone is gone… There are no Jedi left…”

“Yes.” He says, simply.

Yes? Yes, what? You’re starting to get angry with him. How could he just be so calm after all that has happened?

“I know you’re angry.” Ben sighs.

“You’re right.” You nod.

You were angry… but you were also sad, confused, hurt and heartbroken. You want to shake Ben. Tell him to wake up. All of your friends were dead.

He doesn’t say anything else so you start to walk to the door to leave. If he wouldn’t teach Omega… then maybe you’d have to. If she wanted.

“Do you know why I looked up to you so much when I was younger?” You ask him.

He looks at you without saying anything.

“You always did the right thing.” You sigh.

“Anakin…” Ben sighs as if it hurts to say the name out loud. “Anakin had twins with Padme. One of the children is here on Tatooine under my watch. That is why I cannot teach Omega. I have to look out for this child.”

What he tells you definitely catches you off guard. You had always suspected Anakin and Padme were secretly together. You sensed great love inside of him. You’re speechless and completely unsure of what to say to Ben. Things were so much simpler before the Clone Wars…

“I can sense your love for that clone. The one that shot me.” He tells you. “Be careful.”

Don’t turn out like Anakin is what he means.

“Anakin Skywalker wanted power. I want to be left alone.” You tell him before walking out the door.

You would never be like Anakin Skywalker. You would make sure of it. You were going to help Crosshair. Even if it was the last thing you did.

TAGS: @espuma-y-arrecife @ilikemymendarkandfictional @livi-s @ben-is-a-hoe @photowizard17 @fandumbug @rexandechosandwich @studioramekin @zoeykallus @brynhildrmimi @madameminor @rain-on-kamino @wolveria @misogirl88

#Crosshair x you #crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair #tbb #the bad batch #tbb crosshair x you #tbb crosshair x reader #bad batch #sw tbb

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maria-akira · 3 years

Text

good girls don't get used: michael langdon x fem! reader

—♡—

READ PART 2 HERE

summary: michael langdon, your ex, falls into a bet wherein he has to (fake) date you. if he falls in love again, he loses and doesn't get the prize.

warnings: private school au, fuckboy!michael, slight mention of sexual topics + i didnt proofread this mwahaha

this fic is inspired by the song 'good girls (don't get used)' by beach bunny.

i don't know if other private schools have bells, because mine doesn't :(

italicized bold words are direct lyrics from the song. but in this chapter, there are none since this is like an intro :)

—♡—

"Dude, shut the fuck up."

"Are you kidding? She really said that?"

"You really think that's gonna happen?"

"Who's class do you have first?"

Voices of different students flooded the white and grey hallways of the school. Different friend groups and teachers can be seen roaming the halls, getting stuff from their respective lockers as they waited for the bell to ring.

"Y/N! Do you mind if I borrow your calculator? I forgot mine at home and Math is my next class." She said while panting.

"Sure, here it is. If you lose it, I'd probably drop kick your ass." Y/N let out a small laugh and grabbed the calculator from her locker, giving it to her friend.

"Gosh, Y/N. I'll never lose it! I'll give it back during recess. Thanks again!" She flashed Y/N a smile and waved bye, before returning to her locker.

Y/N looked at herself in the mirror she had on her locker, fixing the tie that always seemed to be out of place whenever she checked. Her hair was neat, complete with a white headband that complimented the color of her school's uniform.

A few seconds later, the bell rang and everybody started rushing. Different couples were seen kissing before they parted ways for the mean time.

Cringe. Y/N thought. She shrugged it off and held her books tightly to her chest, walking to her next class.

Walking straight into the classroom, she noticed a group of guys dart their eyes to her direction as she entered. They gave her weird smirks. In return, she stared back at them while she made her way to her seat and never broke eye contact. Eventually, she noticed a familiar face among the group.

Michael, her ex.

How the fuck is he in my English class? She thought, along with a whole hundred thoughts roaming around her head. Michael stared back at her, giving her a wink.

Y/N's face gave a hint of disgust, "The fuck do you want, Langdon?" She stood up from her seat and walked over to Michael, pushing his other friends. She heard his friends coo and tease Michael for his act towards her.

Michael put up his hands in defense, "Chill, is it bad to wink at a pretty girl like you?" He said with a smug look, while he grazed his hand over her arm.

"Shut the fuck up, Langdon. Don't you ever touch me." Y/N slapped his hand away, his friends taken aback from her actions. As she walked back to her seat, the teacher entered as well.

Y/N put her face in her hands. By now, a million thoughts were in her head. It's been 2 years since Michael and her broke up, and since then, she made a promise to herself that she would never fall in love with men like him. She was so tired of all the tears and sleepless nights that Michael gave her.

She let out a sigh and lifted her head from her hands. The soft light from the windows filled her eyes after the darkness formed by her hands, causing her to rub her eyes to adjust from the light.

The rest of the hour went smoothly for Y/N, after English class was recess, her most favorite time of the day— aside from going home, of course.

She glanced at her watch, 10:28 AM.

2 more minutes, and English will be over. She thought.

She averted her gaze back on the white board full of scribbles about some writing lesson she clearly did not listen to. She looked over to her classmates and friends, Well they aren't listening either. She laughed at the thought.

As soon at the bell rang, everyone started packing up their notebooks, textbooks, and whatever they had on their table. Every student was seen rushing out of every classroom in hopes of being the first ones in line for the cafeteria.

On the way there, Y/N bumped into her friend group. "Hey Y/N! We heard about happened in English class. Michael is really in your class?" A friend of hers mentioned, "Yea, and apparently that son of a bitch winked at me, such a disgusting ass motherfucker. he should keep his fuck boy ass to himself." Y/N spat out, earning a chorus of 'oh's' from her friends.

When they arrived at the cafeteria, the line was painfully long, all of them groaned in frustration and they had no choice but to wait for the line to move. But once it did, it was faster than usual. After Y/N and her friends received their food, they left the cafeteria to eat at their usual place.

The school rooftop.

A few students know that staying in the school rooftop is permitted, which was why Y/N and her friends loved eating there.

When they arrived at the rooftop, they saw the usual people that they always encounter while staying there. The view was beautiful, there was no doubt about it. The small garden in the rooftop gave a beautiful and elegant touch.

Though there were a few chairs and tables, Y/N and her friends always preferred to eat on the floor. So, they laid the linen cloth on the ground and sat on it. Y/N was wearing the skirt uniform, thus she removed her tux and placed it on her legs to prevent her skirt from lifting.

They shared a few giggles while they ate their meals, laughing about some life experiences, or whatever they wanted to talk about.

Y/N loved this. She loved how she and her friends would have little moments like these, it was like an escape from reality.

The rest of the day went smoothly for Y/N. She didn't fall asleep in any of her classes, which in this case was a very big accomplishment for her.

As soon as she arrived home, her little brother, Aaron, rushed towards her. "Y/N!! I missed you!" He chimed, Y/N kneeled down onto his level and gave him the tightest hug. "I missed you too, Aaron!" Her mom came into the room and smiled. Y/N stood up and gave her mom a hug as well.

"How was school?" Her mom asked, Y/N placed her tux on the coat hanger by the door. "It was fine, Mom. Where's Dad?" Y/N walked over to the fridge and poured herself a glass of milk, "He'll be home soon, he still has a meeting right now." She took a sip of her milk, "Oh, okay. I'll be upstairs doing school work." The glass of milk that was once full, now empty.

She took her things upstairs and plopped herself on the bed. Out of nowhere she felt a vibrating noise from her bag, she rummaged through her bag to find her phone and once she did, a message was see on her lockscreen.

Unknown Sender has sent you a message.

She unlocked her phone and went to her messages.

Unknown Sender: hey ;)

Her eyebrows furrowed. What the fuck?

(Y/N): hi? whos this?

read 2:29 pm

Unknown Sender: oh shit you deleted my number? damn.

"Huh? I don't recall deleting anyone's number..." She went to her recently deleted contacts and it showed nothing.

(Y/N): im sorry, i haven't deleted anyone's number recently, maybe you have the wrong number?

read 2:32 pm

Unknown Sender: im pretty sure you know me, Y/N.

They know my name. And her heart started pounding.

(Y/N): and im pretty sure i dont, so just reveal yourself before i report this number

read 2:35pm

Unknown Sender: ayo chill 😬 its me michael.

"Michael fucking Langdon? You've got to be fucking me right now." She felt rage fill her, slamming her keyboard.

(Y/N): langdon what the fuck do you want? i made it very clear that i dont want you talking to me.

read 2:40 pm

Before Michael could reply, she changed his contact name to 'Motherfucker'

You have changed Unknown Sender's contact name as 'Motherfucker'

Motherfucker: damn you still mad at me after 2 years? gosh (Y/N). whats with the nickname?

(Y/N): of course im still mad, asshole. ill never forget what you fucking did.

read 2:43 pm

Motherfucker: i thought you forgave me 🥺

(Y/N): FORGIVE YOU???? god langdon you're so fucking stupid, i will never forgive you. you didnt even say sorry in the first place!

Pissed off, Y/N blocked his number. "That fucking asshole." She mumbled to herself.

—

"Hey! Y/N!" A familar voice called out from the crowd. Y/N removed one earbud and turned around to find the voice that called her.

Once she saw the shiny blonde locks from that stood out in the crowd, she immediately ran in the opposite direction in hopes of avoiding him.

It was Michael, again.

"Y/N wait!" Michael called out again, chasing her

For some reason, Michael was able to catch her. He pulled Y/N into an empty science laboratory and they were both panting.

"What the fuck do you want this time, Langdon?" Y/N was catching her breath, fanning herself with her hand.

"Okay. First off, sorry for the sudden message. I know I pissed you off and that wasn't my intention at a—"

"What was your intention then?" She cut him off.

Michael panicked.

"Uh, you know? I just wanna talk to you again. Clear the bad air between us.."

Y/N let out a laugh, "Clear the bad air?? Oh gooood Langdon, you are really so stupid! You know what? You just made it worse." She pushed him off and walked out of the room,

"Whatever it is your planning, Langdon, I'm telling to stop it. I don't wanna talk to you or even go near you."

Michael was dumbfounded. She changed so much. He thought to himself.

2 years ago, Y/N was the sweetest, most innocent girl he knew. Playing with her feelings was Michael's biggest regret, and he's starting to feel it again.

Michael was about to leave the room until he felt a buzzing from his pocket, He pulls out his phone to see who was calling him.

Duncan, one of his bestfriends.

Michael answered the call, "Hello?"

"What's the update on your little girl?"

"She still doesn't trust me."

"That's sad man."

"I know. She changed alot. "

"What do you mean by 'changed'?" Duncan emphasized,

"I can't point it out, Dunc."

"Whatever you do, don't chicken out. I promise this bet is worth it."

"Fine, I trust you."

Call Ended.

Michael ran his fingers through his hair in frustration and left the room before the bell rang.

—

It was the last subject of the day. Most students were falling asleep or on their phones.

Y/N was scribbling weird things on the back of her notebook, when suddenly the bell rang. She packed up her stuff and stood up from her seat. Before she could leave the room, she saw a familiar face again.

Michael stood by the doorway of her classroom, the strap of his bag over one shoulder while he looked for Y/N among the other students.

Y/N ignored Michael and walked past him, but he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her towards him.

"Langdon! What the fuck do you want?!" She screamed, all of the students averting their attention to her.

Michael put a finger on his lips, shushing her. "Let's go somewhere private, yea?"

"But—"

Before she could object, Michael dragged her outside towards the parking lot.

"Okay this is actually something serious—"

"CUT THE SHIT LANGDON! IM TIRED OF YOU."

"Woah‐woah! Easy now. I actually need your help, with school..."

Michael rubbed her shoulders, looking straight into her eyes. For once, Y/N believed him. His eyes were speaking the truth.

"Okay, fine. Shoot."

"I can't believe I'm saying this.."

"Don't waste my time, Langdon."

"Fine! I'm failing."

Y/N's mouth hung open. Michael was one of the top students in their batch and this was obviously a huge surprise for her.

"Oh, really? What am I gonna do about that?" She crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side.

"Can you please help me? Like, tutor me?" At this point, Michael was desperate.

"Um, no thanks. Just fuck some other girl's pussy for your grades." Y/N pushed him away, but Michael stopped her again.

"I'm serious, Y/N. I really need your help."

"Why me?"

Now that made Michael nervous.

"Because you happen to be the top of our batch right now?"

"Fine! Under one condition."

Michael was curious, "What?"

"If I do this tutor shit, we're doing it at my place. I can't tutor you in your messy ass room." Y/N said. She always remembered how messy Michael's room was when they were together. He would only clean when he was scolded by Y/N.

"That's fine by me."

"Okay then. 5pm, sharp."

She walked away, but Michael pulled her again.

"Let me go! What do you want now?" Y/N said, clearly annoyed.

"Unblock my number, silly." Michael chuckled,

"No."

"How are you supposed to know if I already arrived?"

"Theres a doorbell, dimwit. I'll be downstairs waiting for you."

"Bu—"

"Bye, Michael. I'll see you later." Y/N flashed him a small smile and continued to walk away.

Once he saw Y/N reach the bus stop, he started walking to his car, until someone tapped him on his shoulder.

"Hey Michael, whats the update? I saw you talking to her." It was Duncan. His brown hair was lightly gelled back and the first two buttons of his white dress shirt were undone.

"I'm still trying to win her back, I lied to her that I was failing so she could tutor me. That way, it'll be easier."

Duncan smirked, "That's my boy! When will this tutor thing start?"

"Later, 5pm."

"Hmm, that's good. Remember, if you fall in love again, bet's over."

"I won't."

—♡—

tags mwah: @kitwalker02 @sojournmichael @angelicmichael @deademobitch @iheartfrogs101 @tatestripedsweater @mrs-march-ahs

i hope you guys enjoyed this. i wrote this while doing schoolwork </3

#michael langdon imagines #michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #ahs x reader #american horror story #ahs #ahs 8 #ahs 9 #ahs smut #cody fern imagines #cody fern x reader #duncan shepherd #duncan shepherd x reader #michael langdon smut #duncan shepherd smut #american horror story 9 #xavier plympton imagines #ahs apocalypse #ahs imagines

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like-rain-or-confetti · 3 years

Text

Request: Near Death (Volturi Leaders x Reader)

WARNING: Major Injuries! Near Death Situations!

Disclaimer: I am not a doctor or in the medical profession. I did some google searches for the themes mentioned. Such injuries usually take weeks to months of healing not to mention rehabilitation. I’ve had to condense this process down significantly.

Alice's eyes shifted rapidly, panic etched across her face. Jasper held her hands, sitting beside her. It was his attempt to comfort her but she didn't seem to recognise he was even there, too caught up in the vision as well as the panic. She wouldn't even explain what was happening before her. Alice begged for someone to contact the Volturi. However Carlisle was at work and no one else knew if he'd have a direct line to them.

Regardless, Alice continued to plead to inform the Volturi. Inform them of what, it was yet to be known. She wouldn't say. "What is it Alice?" Jasper asked again, trying to get her attention as Emmett typed away on the laptop. "We're going the long way." He said hurriedly as Rosalie grabbed the phone. She looked over Emmett's shoulder as she dialled. She didn't even spare whoever it was on the other end of the phone a greeting. "This is Rosalie Cullen and you need to pass the phone to the Volturi immediately! No, not just a guard! Aro! Anyone! Just do it!" Rosalie turned her attention to Alice. "Alice, you need to tell us what's happening now!"

Everything was peaceful in the Volturi castle. Yet the receptionist seemed to start pandemonium in a matter of seconds. She hurried to the first guard she could find who had been Jane. She stared the human down as the receptionist hurriedly relayed that Rosalie Cullen was on the phone and had to talk to the leaders. All in fluent hurried Italian with fear of the situation as well as fear of Jane. Jane silently took the phone, telling the human to go back to her post which she did. "Rosalie?" Jane said into the phone. "Jane!?" "Yes?" "Jane, this is an emergency. You need to go to Aro immediately!" "What is this about?" "Don't ask questions, just do it!" Rosalie snapped. All the while Jane could hear a panicked Alice Cullen in the background rambling. Jane huffed but complied.

Jane moved briskly into the throne room, moving into the middle, phone in hand with a stern expression upon her face. "Masters, pardon the intrusion but Rosalie Cullen is on the phone. She deems it is an emergency. I believe I may have heard (Y/N)'s name." The three suddenly had all their attention on Jane. "Jane!? Jane are they there!?" Jane put the phone onto speaker. "We're all here and can hear you." "Alice had a vision about (Y/N). Some thing is happening!"

Rosalie's attention moved back to Alice. "Alice! They're on the phone! You need to tell us what is happening!" "I chased it!" Alice cried out. "I chased the vision. I saw (Y/N) in a car and i think it was about to crash!" There was silence on both ends, only Alice saying a word. "I'm trying to see further!" Alice continued to talk, no one else able to say a word. "I saw them lying there in a hospital bed, please let me be wrong! Please!" Suddenly Alice screamed and the three leaders rushed towards Jane who still had the phone. "Alice, what is happening!?" Aro demanded. "They...it crashed. They...they're not moving!"

Charlie Swan kept his hand on his radio, listening in for any updates. More police had been called in when it was discovered the driver who collided into the taxi vehicle was very drunk. He had been speeding whilst intoxicated and both vehicles were absolutely destroyed. The taxi driver had so many injuries that he couldn't be properly identified. It was clear the man was dead. He had to have died instantly. His passenger on the other hand wasn't so easy to determine. Although Charlie recognised them immediately. You were a family friend of Carlisle's.

The paramedics on scene determined it was necessary to remove you from the vehicle. So with help from officers, they did. You were laid on the cold ground. From what Charlie could hear, you were barely clinging on and completely unresponsive. You had to be taken to hospital immediately. That was when Charlie could get a better look at you. You were in very bad shape and covered in blood from your head. Never would he know, as his thoughts went to the Cullen family, Alice had already seen the image of your unconscious body and unable to hold back, she screamed.

Before the three Volturi leaders decided they'd immediately go to America, another phone call was received this time from Carlisle. Half an hour after Alice's phone call. "Are they alright?" Aro asked. Carlisle was silent in the other end of the phone before finally answering. "We nearly lost them on the way to the hospital. They're condition is very unstable right now. However we're doing everything we can to stabilize them. We'll be working on them all night. I'd ask that you wait for my next call before you leave." "You ask that we stay here whilst our mate is over there and injured!?" Caius seethed. "I need your trust. I will do everything I can. As soon as I have more answers, I'll give them to you and we can go from there." "Carlisle..." Marcus finally spoke up. "Are they going to make it through the night?" There was silence again. "I will do everything in my power to make sure that the next time we speak, (Y/N) is stable and we can arrange for you to come. I'm sorry, I can't give you anything more than that." Marcus clenched his eyes shut turning away. Aro and Caius knew what he was thinking immediately. He couldn't go through this again, losing another mate. Caius wanted to demand that you be changed but he knew that wasn't possible in your condition and where you were. There was too much attention surrounding you.

Hours passed and the silence from Carlisle was slowly killing the three leaders. Caius was the first to break the silence. "We should never have left them there." His voice was quiet- which was very unlike him. "It's what they wanted." Aro replied softly. "We wanted them here." Caius shot back. "We don't even know how this happened." "We will." Aro responded. "We need to have hope that (Y/N) pull through." "If they don't?" Caius asked. "That's not an option." Aro replied.

For twelve hours, a different kind of silence lay over the Volturi castle- a heavier one. The three perked up as the phone rang again. Caius and Marcus stood up sharply. Marcus had his hands covering his nose and mouth, pure anxiety hitting the man at this point. Aro was the one who answered the phone. "Hello, Aro. We were operating all night. I have good news and bad news. I will start with the good. (Y/N) is alive and significantly more stable." Marcus exhaled, falling back into his chair, Caius putting a hand on Marcus' arm to steady him. Caius' hand stayed on Marcus' arm as he glared into the phone as though trying to pry out more information. "They are?" Aro responded. "Yes. Although I'd ask you all be sitting down for the bad news. It's quite hard hitting and extensive." Caius grumbled but also sat back down. "Go on, friend." Aro said. "(Y/N)'s injuries are mostly in their head and torso. Their legs are badly bruised but not broken. They have minor cuts in their hands and arms from the glass shattering. We believe they moved their arms to cover their face. Their spine is bruised but not broken. Upon the investigation with the police, (Y/N) was jolted multiple times upon impact. Their face is bruised but I couldn't feel any fractures or breaks. Unfortunately we discovered more serious injuries upon further inspection which forced us to operate. (Y/N) has broken ribs which punctured her organs and caused internal bleeding. We have since stopped the bleeding and corrected the breaks within their ribs which will be healing in weeks. However, I must inform you that (Y/N) has not been responsive or conscious during their observation period. We have discovered that (Y/N) has minimal brain activity." "What does that mean?" Aro asked quietly. "It means that (Y/N) is in a coma." "Carlisle, I don't know what that means." Aro said flatly but his jaw had begun to clench. "It means that (Y/N) is alive but cannot be woken up. They show no sign of awareness and is unresponsive to their environment. Sometimes the extensive injuries cause the brain to shut down to minimal activity so that the healing process can take place. They are currently in a vegetative state and at this time, all we can hope is that they will at one point wake up on their own." "Can we go to them?" Marcus asked. "I have to keep in what we are and I think it's best if you make that decision, wary that the smell of their blood will be stronger." Carlisle answered. "It will take us a few days." Caius continued, the other two leaders no longer able to speak. "Surely that would be enough for that to settle." "Of course. All I ask is that you prepare yourself to see them. It will be a shock and I will need to prepare you before hand regardless."

When those days passed and the three leaders had arrived. They discovered there had been no change in your condition. Carlisle had somehow been able to get you transported to his home given the relationship he had with you. Therefore he would be able to care for you, just as he had in the hospital. However, as unconventional as it was, the hospital insisted they remained updated with your condition.

The three leaders and Carlisle stood outside your room, Carlisle put his hand on the handle. Before they'd enter your room, Carlisle warned the three again. "You'll see them attached to a lot of machinery. Keep in mind it's a very good sign that (Y/N) is breathing on their own, however they do have apparatus to help them breathe better. Although I am more concerned that their visible injuries will be shocking for you." "Thank you for preparing us, friend." Aro said passively and Carlisle opened the door. The three were around your bed in moments. All exhaling with horror and heartbreak.

You looked more fragile than you had ever. Purple, black and blue bruises across your body from what they could see. However the cuts in your hands seemed to be the first thing to really heal. "Why not change them now?" Caius said flatly trying to hide his emotions but the way he physically sank into himself, as well as the broken look in his eyes, he was broken by the very sight of you. Carlisle shook his head. "They can't be changed. Not until they wake up." "Why?" Caius asked sternly. "Because right now there is a chance that they won't wake up. Changing them won't fix this. We need to give them time." "So we sit and do nothing and hope they wake up!?" Caius snapped. "You're role is just as important and it's vital that you do it. Be there with them, talk to them, comfort them because I can't do that. You're their mate." Carlisle responded before turning to Aro. "All we can hope is that they wake up and then we'll take it from there." Marcus lightly touched your hand. "Do they knew we're here?" "Comas aren't so clear. We don't know if they can hear us." Carlisle responded. "Regardless it's important you interact with them because it may prompt their brain to respond to stimuli. Even if you don't get a response. It'll help." "Thank you, Carlisle." Aro said with a blank stare. Carlisle nodded. "I'm so sorry that I couldn't fix this." Carlisle said with sympathy and some guilt. Aro nodded. "You did everything you could." "I had really hoped for a better outcome. That they'd be awake for you arriving." Aro smiled slightly. "We all had that hope, nevertheless, our mate is alive because of you. For that, we are grateful." "Carlisle?" Caius spoke up, his fingers coaxing your hand gently into his. "How did this happen?" "The accident?" Carlisle asked. Caius nodded. "A drunk driver, speeding and collided into the car (Y/N) was in. The one driving in (Y/N)'s vehicle died instantly." Caius mouth twisted in hatred. "A human...nearly killed our (Y/N) because they were intoxicated?" Carlisle slowly nodded. "Don't tell us who it was." Marcus said gravely, his eyes stuck onto you. "If you do, we won't hesitate to kill him." "Laws, be damned." Caius agreed. "One more thing..." Marcus spoke up, finally tearing his eyes from you and towards Carlisle. "Are they in pain? Right now and before. Has (Y/N) suffered?" Carlisle shook his head. "They haven't been conscious and now that we know they're in a coma. I can safely say that haven't felt a thing. Due to the minimal brain activity and unresponsiveness, they won't feel any pain. None of their senses are working." Carlisle continued. "Remember what I said, the most random of interactions at any time can be picked up and that's the first sign of waking up."

Aro was the first to really approach you. He ran his fingers across your cheek. He couldn't see anything from the accident onwards. He didn't dare lose hope that you were still in there though. "Hello, beautiful. We're here now." He said softly, kissing your forehead. Caius silently looked at his brother. Watching as he doted over you with ease. He couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy, wishing he could move past his emotions and do the same. However the most he had been able to accomplish was lightly touching their hand, coaxing it into his own. It wasn't the same, your hand was described as the rest of your body. Unresponsive. His touch went unnoticed and he had never longed for even a twitch in your body. Some movement that told him you were there. However his silent pleads went ignored and you didn't move. Aro smiled at his brothers, seemingly knowing what they were feeling and why they hesitated. "You need to think of it like they are here because for all we know, they are. They've been waiting for us."

Sometimes all three stayed with you, other times they took turns individually, each growing to find comfort that you were still alive and it's easier to think you were still in there. When it was Caius' turn. You'd have been shocked as he had closed himself off from everyone, barely speaking a word whether in company or left alone with you. Caius seemed to struggle the most with your condition. He struggled to see past it. Struggled with knowing you weren't conscious and you didn't know he was there. He found it more difficult to talk to someone who wouldn't give even the smallest sign they had heard him.

The first thing he did was approach your bedside, hovering over you to kiss your forehead. Caius whispered something to you, in that moment, unable to care whether you could hear it or not. The relief had finally sank in that you had survived the accident. "Thank you for not dying." He pulled up a chair beside you. "I never thought I'd see you like this." Caius softly admitted. "Forgive me. I find it difficult to talk to you. I know it could help. I look at you and the pain in my chest only grows bigger. So much that I'm unable to talk. I want to be optimistic like everyone else. Talk to you because you will eventually wake up. I want that more than anything. Instead I can only stare as my heart breaks over and over again because someone hurt my (Y/N) and I wasn't here to protect you." Caius paused, his eyes running over you. "Marcus says that you look peaceful. Like your sleeping. I think to myself about how deluded that sounds. Even looking at you now. This isn't you sleeping. All I see is your body laying there. Day in and day out." Caius sighed. "So I must ask of you, please sweetheart." Caius leaned closer. "Please, fight to wake up. Let us see those beautiful eyes again. What I wouldn't do to see that wonderful smile again." Caius trailed off, the small reminiscing smile falling from his friend. "I know it's a lot to ask. Please understand that I have to. If you can hear me, please fight to wake up and come back to us."

Aro was the most capable of them all to speak to you. He did so with ease and without hesitation. "Hello cara mia." He smiled as he kissed your forehead. "All of that bruising is healing nicely. Some of the smaller ones are gone. Isn't that wonderful?" Aro gently held your hand. "The guard have been asking about you, perhaps we'll let them see you soon. Once some of more these cuts and bruises heal. You'll get a break from Caius, Marcus and I too." Aro hummed in amusement. "As tempted as we were to bring the full guard. Perhaps that wouldn't have benefited anyone. “The twins are here with us and we're expecting Felix and Demetri within the next couple of days. We'll all be here when you're ready to wake up." Aro leaned closer. "I know you will, my love. You will wake up. Do it even to spite Caius for being a pessimist." Aro smiled slightly. You had always enjoyed challenging Caius and in all honesty it was enjoyable to watch. "We will help you. Even after you wake up, you'll have us at your side. We'll get through this together."

Marcus gently cradled you hand between is own, lightly kissing the back of your hand. He stared at you, for the longest of time. He noticed the soft fall and rise of your chest but other than that, so still. Finally Marcus broke the silence. "I've been trying to think of what I could say to you. Aro is better than Caius and I at this. As you know." Marcus continued after a moment of thought. "Although Aro has his faults. We never told you it was Caius who was determined you'd stay with us. He took one look at you and that was it. You had his heart and he whether we agreed or not. You would be with us." Marcus wore a small smile. "He convinced me to put a little trust in you. He was right. You have given me so much joy and love in the time we've been together that, you asking to stay was a sacrifice I was willing to make. We were all willing to make. So I'd like to ask you to make a sacrifice for us, my beautiful (Y/N). I want you to wake up. I want you to claw your way back to us if you have to. Although I'm aware that given your condition you might not want to. That might be too much for you to face alone in your mind but I need you to know you're not alone. We're waiting for you, sweetheart." Marcus leaned towards your ear. "Make sure you come back to me, okay?"

One day the Volturi came back from their hunt to an absolute miracle. Carlisle was waiting for them when they arrived with a smile. "We have progress." The three could barely stop themselves from bombarding into your room. "They're out of the vegetative state." Carlisle explained. "Right now, as we speak, they are sitting up." Caius and Marcus inhaled sharply as Aro smiled. "I need to you to know that (Y/N) isn't awake. They can't see or hear us yet but their eyes will be open and they're beginning to register touch. Whilst they didn't respond to holding my hand, they did move away slightly because I'm colder and will move if in any discomfort. They won't talk yet either but regardless this is a very good sign."

The four entered the room to find you sitting up. You were hunching over slightly, your eyes drifting ever so slowly at times. As Carlisle had said, you weren't focused at all and didn't seem to notice that they were there. Your eyes and hands were a major give away. Your hands were limp whilst your eyes seemed a little glazed over. Carlisle moved to your side, taking the cup of water at your bedside before putting it to your lips. To the leaders surprise, you leaned into the cup and actually drank it's contents. Aro moved closer whilst Caius' and Marcus were so taken aback they were rendered speechless. "Did they sit up on their own?" Aro asked. "No, they're still healing. I was checking on them and I couldn't help but notice that their eyes were opening. Once their eyes were completely open. We gently helped them sit up. They've been sitting like this for forty-five minutes." Carlisle finished with a smile. "It's working?" Aro asked. "Interacting with them? Yes." Carlisle smiled. "However I do think I'll get them to lie back down now. Everyday, we'll get them to sit up for a short time." That being said, Carlisle lay you back down gently. Your eyes remained open, continuing to focus on nothing.

A day passed and whilst the leaders were spending time with you together, they noticed a small change. You were lying down, eyes open. Caius was mumbling into your ear, his head hovering inches over yours. His eyes narrowed on you when he noticed that your eyes drifted towards him but this time your eyes stayed drifting to the side he was on. You blinked, your eyes shifting back slightly up and down motions. "(Y/N)? Can you hear me?" Caius asked softly, getting Aro and Marcus' attention. Aro immediately got Carlisle who looked you over. He insisted that Caius continued speaking to you and didn't move as he did so. Carlisle and Caius both kept their gaze on your eyes, that still hadn't moved on from Caius' vicinity. "Judging by the eye movement, I appears to be (Y/N) is trying to focus on something which is a very good sign." Caius smiled down at you lovingly. "I'm here, sweetheart." His voice barely above a whisper.

The next sign came at random. The next day Marcus had your hand in his with a very light grip, his fingers barely curling around your hand. Whilst your hand occasionally twitched you didn't seem to really notice his hand, only the cold temperature. That was until your hand shifted again. This time you curled a finger slightly around his own. The movement had Marcus watching you intently but you made no other sign. You had the leaders on the edge of their seats every given moment. Yet you seemed to take your time, taking the moments they least expected to startle them. Although regardless, they would be patient. They'd wait forever if they had to.

It wasn't too long after that day that you shocked the leaders again. Caius and Aro had laid on either side of you. Marcus was beside your legs. Your head was tilted towards Caius as he ran a cold fingers up and down your hand as the three spoke to you. Once again your eyes shifted to Caius, who was significantly closer to your head than anyone else. Your eyes passed Caius as they had hundreds of times, trailing back and forth. Then they stopped, directly on Caius' face. Caius ran his thumb across your cheekbone before noticing your eyes hadn't moved. "(Y/N)?" He said gently, getting both leaders attention. All three stared at you for a moment before you took a deep breath, blinked and moved your head. However your eyes were different now. Their was cognition behind them. The leaders had seen you move before so they had to be sure. "(Y/N)?" Marcus said and your head turned to him. You had heard them. The three gasped, you were awake. "Hello, sweetheart." Aro smiled widely. "oh grazie ... grazie, tesoro." Caius sighed in relief, mumbling Italian under his breath. Marcus couldn't tear his eyes from you.

As Aro stood up to get Carlisle, Marcus took his place. He didn't even dare to blink. Your eyes followed him as he moved beside you. "Can you hear us?" You made a slightly nodding motion before reaching out slowly, cupping his cheek. Your brow began to furrow and the two grew increasingly worried.

In that moment, Carlisle entered the room along with Aro. "Well, well, look who's awake." Carlisle smiled warmly. "Hello, (Y/N)." Carlisle moved beside Marcus. "Can you hear me?" You tried your best to nod again, against the aches of protest in your back. "Good. I imagine you're very confused right now and you should know it's perfectly fine to feel that way. You may not remember but you were in a car accident and fell into a coma. You've been unconscious for many days now. You're injuries were severe but you are healing and I'll run some tests on you to see how you're doing. There's absolutely nothing to worry about. You may feel some slightly discomfort or pain, you're on very heavy pain killers. The best you can do it relax and rest." You looked down at your bruised body. Carlisle was right. There were aches and pains all over but a numbness too. The mixture made you aware that whilst you felt some pain, you weren't feeling even half of it. Carlisle continued but his voice was so low that only the leaders could hear him. "They'll likely feel irritability and confusion. Comfort them and try to be patient. It'll take some time for them to come to terms."

When Carlisle left, you were still looking down at your body, brow furrowing and tears welled up in your eyes. Marcus moved a hand to your face, getting your attention, your eyes met his before you swallowed hard, lip quivering slightly. Your sobs were silent but heavy at first, wracking your body. As your sobs continued they grew louder, the closest thing to your voice they had heard in days. "Oh tesoro." Aro said softly as Caius shifted further down the bed. Your sobs now jutting your shoulder into his chest but he didn't mind. Slowly and gently, he put his arm across your waist, the best he could do to hug your frail body. His head against yours with his eyes shut. Marcus took your other hand, pressing a kiss to it before leaning into it. They let you cry and you cried until you fell asleep.

When you woke up. Marcus and Aro were gone, leaving Caius and another two visitors. Felix and Demetri smiled at you. "You scared the hell out of us." Felix said to you. "My heart was nearly jumpstarted after centuries only to have a heart attack." It was rough but a hum of amusement escaped you. Felix was always able to make you laugh and now more than ever, Caius appreciated it. Caius smiled down at you, lightly tracing patterns against your hairline.

The visits were lovely distractions from the pain in your body, but you couldn't help but be more aware of it every passing day. The cycle of all it. You wake up, get more pain medication that led you to be as high as a kite and then the small moments of clarity clicked in when you realised, you weren't okay. You were bloodied and bruised, scarred from surgeries and your brain slow and fogged from being in a coma. You tried to be happy and swallow the pain and fear for your mates if not for yourself but the more coherent you became and the more you healed, the less medication you needed. Finally left with the simple knowledge that you weren't okay. You were so lost in thought that you didn't even notice your mates trying to get your attention. You looked over to the three, worry etched upon their faces. After a moment, you reached your arm out to Aro. He took your hand with ease, before he looked back to you. "Cara mia, we know. You can feel this way. We're here to help you no matter how you feel each day." Caius and Marcus looked to Aro for an explanation. "(Y/N) isn't feeling too well today. It's a bit much, they're a little overwhelmed but have been trying to put in a brave face." You knew Aro would give them more detail out of your ear shot and whilst grateful, even that made you want to cry. Caius immediately turned to you, his hand immediately reaching out for your arm. "Look at me." He said firmly but quietly. "We love you, no matter what. Having you here with us, alive is the greatest gift you could have ever given us. Don't you dare, hold back any emotion you are feeling for us or for anyone."

A few days later, Carlisle began his daily routine, checking in on you and your injuries. "Hello, (Y/N)." Carlisle smiled at you and you did your best to smile back. "How are you feeling today?" You held a hand out, palm down. "Somewhere in between? That's better than before." Carlisle smiled. "I'm going to ask you some simple questions, I know you can't talk yet, but don't worry you shouldn't have to with these. That will come soon." Carlisle assured you. "Remember, slow and gentle movements. I'll pick them up better than you think." You smiled slightly at the tease. "How old are you?" He asked. Without having to think about it, you held up the appropriate fingers. "Very good!" He praised with a smile. "Didn't even hesitate. How many movies did you watch last night?" You promptly held up two fingers. "Very nice. How many mates do you have?" You didn't seem to notice how intently the leaders stare was but it was more than likely you were used to that by now. You held up three fingers. "Alright and where are they?" Carlisle asked. You pointed to the three leaders. "Great. This is a very good sign. Your response times are very good." Your injuries had cleared much more, the bruising on your body no where near as bad as before. The swelling in your face barely noticeable as well as any cuts you had. You ribs where the biggest problem if anything. However you still hadn't said a word. That was Carlisle's next goal now that he knew your memory was in tact.

"Alright, you may not like me today." Carlisle warned you with a smile and you looked at him with confusion and dread, wondering what sort of test he'd out you through now. "This one will be a little more complicated but today, you're going to try and talk." Your eyes widened a fraction, dread completely over taking your confusion. "We'll start with names, specifically, the names of your mates." You scrunched up your face. They didn't have the easiest of names as it was. "I assure you, once you get used to talking, you won't have to think twice about it. We'll start easy. Try to say Aro's name." You took a breath, thinking hard before being unable to hold back a smile. Never had talking seemed to complicated? Like you had to think about using your mouth and creating the sounds you wanted. "Take your time and be patient with yourself. Let your brain wake up." The expression on your face said a thousand words. First, curse Carlisle. Secondly, this is embarrassing. Thirdly, if you mess up Aro's name you'll never forgive yourself. Lastly, you are so sorry if you mess up his name. Aro couldn't help the small chuckle escaping him, the other two smiling in amusement. "A...Aro." With so much concentration, you had shut your eyes, testing it out. Your voice was a little scratchy from not using it in a while but it was still clear. "There you go, one down. Can you try to say Caius?" "C..." You paused trying to think it through. "Cai...Caius." You finally forced out and Aro giggled with glee, Caius reaching out for your hand. "Alright, this is the more difficult one. It'll require a little more brain power. Marcus." You remembered the motion to make a 'M' sound. That being the difficult part of the name. It took a few more pauses but you slowly managed it out. "Well done." Carlisle smiled. "So since you didn't need promoting on how to say these things, I'm confident you could start talking just fine. Just remember to be patient with yourself."

Soon after showing the extend of your talking and cognitive abilities, Carlisle told you that it wouldn't be long before you got to go home. The leaders were delighted, more than eager to bring you to Italy and finally put this nightmare behind them. "How did you do it? How did you cope when I was out?" You asked, finally finding the courage to do so after all this time. Aro and Marcus looked at each other and to your surprise Caius responded. "We pretended you could hear us, that you were with us. I found it the most difficult." "I don't think I could have done this without you." You admitted quietly. "You could have." Marcus replied. "It is us who couldn't have survived without your strength." "We wouldn't have it any other way." Caius added softly. "When you're better, we're bring you with us back to Italy." Aro smiled at you. "We almost had to live without you. Now we can't stand the thought of you being so far from us." Caius explained.

#twilight #request #volturi #the volturi #reader #aro volturi #caius volturi #marcus volturi #one shot #oneshot

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boldlyvoid · 3 years

Text

Of Quartz I Will

Amethyst You So Much✨ Part 2: Of Quartz I Will

Summary: after 2 years of dating, Spencer decides it's finally time to get Y/N something to match her Amethyst bracelet.

Warnings: fluff, gun violence, shooting tw, Reid's season 5 knee injury, hurt/comfort, emotional smut, body massage, hand jobs, riding, penetrative sex.

word count: 6K

Spencer notices her as she walks in, through the briefing room window, she’s wearing his purple shirt. He wanted to wear that for work today but couldn’t find it anywhere, now he knows why.

“Excuse me,” he says to his group of teammates as they contribute reading case files.

“Hey,” Spencer grabs her attention from the railing beside the briefing room. “I’ve been looking for that shirt everywhere.”

“It’s mine now,” she smiles, setting her things down at her desk for the night. “I’ll buy you a new purple dress shirt.”

“Buy yourself one, I like that one,” he whines.

“Finders keepers, doctor Reid. Either stop leaving your shit on my bedroom floor or move in already.”

Everyone hears it. All eyes are on them as they bicker in the middle of the bullpen, including the team of profilers just beyond the window.

“Okay,” he agrees. “We’ll talk about this later.”

She climbs the stairs quickly, giving him a good morning hug even though it was 9pm. “I love you, that’s why I’m wearing your shirt.”

He smiles against her shoulder as he holds her, “I love you, more so in my shirt.”

When he sits back down at his chair at the round table, everyone is waiting with a raised brow. They want details, they want his opinion, they want to hear him stutter and see him blush like he used to. But he doesn’t.

“Yes, I will be moving in with her. We have people to save,” Spencer reminded them. Avoiding eye contact and flipping through the files.

Derek tugs on his amethyst bracelet, he hasn’t taken it off since he got it, almost 2 years ago. “Are you ever going to get her any other jewellery?”

“When she goes home I’ll show you,” he whispers, still avoiding eye contact as they all gasp. “Keep it cool or I will kill you.”

He keeps an eye on her at her desk, smiling when she looks up to see him. She blows him a kiss and waves softly a few times, but other than that, they don’t talk for the rest of the day.

—

The next time She sees him, he’s in her bed sound asleep as she’s coming home from work. She sits on the edge of the bed and brushes his hair away from his face to wake him up gently, he blinks into the morning sunlight to see her.

“Good morning,” he smiles.

She’s in his pink shirt today. She liked to keep something of his close on bad cases that take him out of town. In this case, out of the country. He was in Canada for a few days, the case was horrific and she had to deal with all the office work in Penelope’s absence.

“Amethyst,” she whispers, it was part of their secret code.

Spencer, being a cunning linguist, he loved anagrams.

They had Amethyst for I miss you, Quartz for of course, and Olive for I love you. It was easier to keep the PDA to a minimum at work, not wanting to sit in a seminar like Derek and Penny about sexual misconduct and hostile work environments.

“Olive,” Spencer replies, pulling her down into the bed so she can cuddle in.

“We can’t stay, there’s another case. JJ told me to bring you in on my way home,” she explains softly. “They need you to go to ER Doctor Barton’s house, in McLean, he got a note saying someone was going to kill his son. So far they’ve also connected him to a few surrogate kills of Hispanic men, they need the speed reader to go through all his recent surgeries.”

He sighs, holding her tightly and snuggling in against her back, “no.”

She laughs, “Spencer, you can read really fast and the faster you read the faster you can come home to me.”

“Fine,” she has perfect logic, he always tells her that. “Are you driving me to the guy's house?”

“Yep, so we can stop for coffee and talk in the car, I really did miss you a lot,” she struggles out of his grasp to turn and face him, opting to hold his face in her hands as she looks at him. He’s exhausted, just like her.

“I missed you too, I’m sorry I was gone so long,” his voice is barely a whisper, “We should take a day off together soon.”

“Yeah,” she smiles wider, completely in love with him. “I’d really like that, maybe we can look at apartments?”

“Apartments?” He repeats the word with a grin, raising his eyebrow softly. “I thought you liked it here?”

“It’s too small, I want to get a cat, if you’re bringing your closet here we’re going to need a bigger one,” she ranted. “And actually, I was thinking if you’re on the same page as me and this is a long-term thing for you too, what if we just got a bigger place and got a mortgage and start a little life outside the FBI, together?”

He’s so in love with her, “get my bag?” Is all he can say.

“What?” She’s so confused, shaking her head softly as she comprehends it.

“On the floor there, grab my bag, please there’s something for you in there,” he points behind her, trapped under her and the blanker so it’s not like he could get it himself.

She gets up, placing the bag on the bed for him as she watches him dig through it for a little box. “Arminius helped me pick this out.”

He had become best friends with the owner of the rock shop, she wasn’t surprised to hear that he had gotten something else from there for him. It made her giggle with excitement, bouncing softly as Spencer sat up and moved his bag out of the way.

But then he got out of bed, he’s in a pair of purple boxers and his hair is a mess and he’s so nervous and she has no idea why until he gets down on one knee.

“I was waiting to do this.”

“Holy shit.”

He nods with a shaky laugh, “yeah, I’m in it long term if you are?”

“How the fuck am I supposed to drive you to work now?” She laughs, unable to stop smiling as the two of them stare hopelessly at each other. She hasn’t even looked at the ring yet, too occupied with the wonderfully happy look on his face.

“Quartz,” is all she can say, flabbergasted as she keeps laughing with a shocked smile.

He takes it from the box and she watches as he slides the most beautiful purple Amethyst ring over her ring finger and then her hands are back on his cheeks. Pulling him into a kiss, she can’t seem to hold him close enough as she breathes in. Holding her breath as she keeps him there.

He pulls away with a laugh, “when are we supposed to be there?”

“Now.”

“Damn,” they’re all giggles.

And it doesn’t stop, she takes off Spencer’s shirt and he puts it on instead, matching it with a vest and a tie while she makes him a coffee and can’t stop smiling as she glances at the ring.

It really only made sense for their engagement to happen in the same place she fell in love with him.

Sure, she liked him a lot when he was getting her rocks and she really wanted to get to know him more after his last note, but it was the bracelet that made her fall in love. He went out of his way to make her smile on what felt like the worst day of her life, and she knew she wanted forever with him from then on out. Now she was going to get it, she was going to be Agent Y/N Reid, and her ring was absolutely perfect.

He catches her taking photos of it in the sunshine when he comes out of the bedroom. She still can’t stop smiling, it’s just so perfect and she’s just so in love with him.

They get muffins from the bakery under her apartment before getting in her car, “where is it?” Spencer asks, playing the role of GPS whenever they drove together.

“120 Kensington Road, McLean Virginia,” she members it clearly.

“Take a right,” Spencer smiles, and she’s off.

She drives with one hand, looking at her ring almost more than the road as Spencer held her other one. She pulled up to the Doctor’s house and he didn’t want to leave. Sighing, he looked at her with puppy dog eyes.

“I will see you when you get home, I’m going to call out after this case is done and you get mandatory 24 hours off for back-to-back cases,” she said, knowing protocol almost better than him. “Go to work.”

“Fine,” he frowns again, getting out of the car and walking around to her door. She rolls the window down and tilts her chin up, leaning out for the kiss he’s waiting to give her.

“Let me know when you’re done, I can come and pick you back up,” she whispers against his lips between kisses.

One last smooch and he pulls away, backing up so he isn’t tempted to stay any longer, “olive.”

“Olive,” she replies with a smile, waving slightly before he disappears behind the door.

She releases a long sigh, melting into the chair as she lets the butterflies swarm around a bit in her stomach, it felt wonderful.

She went home, napped from 10 till 2 and then sat in bed to stare at her beautiful ring for a little while. She couldn’t believe he proposed just like that. All she asked was if he wanted to get a mortgage on a house and she guesses he heard "spend the rest of your life with me."

Sometimes, when Spencer was on a case in Virginia and too busy to keep her updated, she would turn on the police radio and listen to what was going on around in the area. It was good to keep her mind preoccupied and to remind herself that he was safe.

At least that’s what it used to do.

“Shots fired at 120 Kensington Road, McLean Virginia, 10-999, 11-41, all units in the area are requested.”

“10-999, officer down, 11-41, send ambulances,” she whispers to herself, remembering all the dispatch lingo from the office.

She doesn’t have time to panic, she unlocks her safe and grabs her gun, loading it and then she’s out the door, in her car and pulling up behind the sheriff's car as she’s running out.

She tosses her badge up to show the cops as she tries to run onto the scene, “I’m an FBI agent on his team, let me through!”

She slides her knees along the grass, surely ruining her jeans as she dives for him. She places a hand on his bloody knee and looks everywhere else, “are you okay? Are you good? Holy shit, Spence?”

Her breathing is so heavy, she clutches her chest with her left hand and tries to calm down as he looks up at her and they breathe in and out a few times without breaking eye contact. He’s completely fine, there’s just a bullet in his knee, he assures her.

“I’m fine,” he laughs lightly, wincing at the pain as he leans forward to kiss her gently.

She’s there only 2 minutes before Derek, JJ and Rossi are pulling up on the scene. Everyone huddled around them on the grass as the EMTs bandaged his knee up before taking him to the ambulance.

“You need to call Emily,” Spencer speaks over everyone, “something happened to Hotch, I’m fine here with Y/N, just go see him.”

He was always going to be fine with her, that was for sure. She never left his side, except when they took him in for surgery and forced her back into the waiting room. But as soon as he was okay again, his hand was in hers.

—

He was given a month off after his knee surgery, but he still ended up in the office most nights. Becoming more of a night owl than usual as he accompanied his fiancé to her desk and sat beside her as she did her work. It was really nice to spend time with her and not have to do anything.

Of course, he filled his time by going over other case files, things they weren’t able to get to as a team and things that didn’t fit the criteria of the BAU. He made phone calls and sent emails, helping small-town cops make simple connections and doing more good that way.

He sat at her desk, his leg resting over her lap as she made a few phone calls. Handing the background of the cases, filing off invoices and approvals. Dispatching units and requesting files and overrides from other departments. She was amazing.

She hangs up the phone, finally, after 45 minutes of rolling her eyes and sighing as she was transferred from office to office all around America. She places her hand on his leg and absentmindedly runs her hand along his shin, staring off at the desk, silently.

“Are you okay?”

She nods, “do you think you’re healed enough to start looking at places?”

He nods back, “actually, I already found one. Hold on,” he slides his leg off her lap and stands with his crutches, hobbling over to his desk where he looks through his files for a new folder.

When he comes back to her, he places the folder in her hands, “forever homes,” is listed on the tag and he sees her heart melt in her eyes. She opens the folder as he sits down, there are about 15 pages of house and apartment listings printed off.

“When did you do all this?” She whispered, shocked and not wanting to cry at work.

“Before I got shot, I was on the phone with Penelope and I asked her to help me find some, she printed off like 50 and I selected the good ones, but there’s more if you don’t like an-“

“Babe,” she cut the rant short, “I’m sure I’ll love any of them, as long as they come with you.”

He pulls a specific sheet from the pile, “this one is my favourite.”

She can see why, it’s a large, green exterior, Victorian home. There’s a turret and a porch, large windows with a bench seat in the kitchen. A garage, 4 bedrooms, a finished basement, a study and a pretty nice backyard.

“It’s a bit of a fixer-upper, but Derek said he’s willing to help teach me how to fix some stuff,” Spencer pressed his lips together awkwardly. He really wanted this on.

“Let’s get a Realtor and set up a walk-through,” she agreed, “and we should bring Derek because he’ll know more than most inspectors anyway. I don’t want to get a place with a cracked foundation or a faulty water heater.”

He smiled again, “remember last week when I had that extra appointment?”

She tilted her head, “no, there is no way you’ve already been there to check it out without me.”

“And I put an offer in, but I was waiting for your approval,” he adds, nervous for her to hate it.

“With what money? I thought we were doing this together?” He’s not sure why she’s upset, normally she loves his surprises.

“When I sold my moms house, I invested the money and it’s been gaining interest for years now,” his voice is soft, “I got through college with scholarships and if I was ever down on money I just had to go to one casino and I always leave with two grand, minimum, I promise, I’m really in this for the long run. I know what I'm doing.”

She smiles, picking up the listing and calling the agency. “Hi this is Y/N Y/L/N calling, my fiancé, Doctor Spencer Reid, recently put an offer in on the listing for 247 Chestnut Drive, I’d love to come and see it soon and take some measurements and things. If you could call me back…”

Spencer is so in love with her it hurts. He wants to scream right then and there, like a kettle on a hot stove for too long, he’s bursting at the seams. She hangs up the phone with the best smile he’s ever seen, “I’m going home early, cause I’m sick, care to join me?”

She stands then, putting her hand out for him so he could stand with her help. “Quartz,” he replies, taking her hand and stands, she gathers their things and she clocks out. No one really cared about all her sick days, she did her job well and they wanted the good doctor to be taken care of.

When he finally gets to show her the inside of the house, she is so in love with it. The hardwood is all original, same with the railings, shelves, banisters and countertops. They're all rustic and beautiful, she can’t help but run her finger over everything as she looks around with an open mouth. X

The kitchen cabinets are green, there is a beautiful colourful wallpaper as a backsplash… and it’s completely empty. It was a remodel, some house flippers did it up and didn’t want to stay. It was made more modern, updated appliances and every safety protocol met. It was perfect.

She turned to him with a smile after only 5 minutes of looking, “this is it.”

“Good,” the women showing them around said, “because your offer was approved, with your say so I can get everything started with escrow.”

“Holy shit!” Y/N cheered, jumping a bit and showing off while Spencer just leaned on his crutch. She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around him, kissing his cheek a few times.

“You can start that paperwork,” Spencer smiled, holding her back with his face in the crook of her neck.

—

The hardest part of moving is transporting all of Spencer’s books from one home to another. It's at least 30 boxes of books and Derek will be faxing his chiropractor bill to Spencer within the week.

His office here was huge, floor-to-ceiling oak shelves and green walls, full of all his books and belongings now. It was his own space in the house he shared with his future wife.

It felt crazy to him.

She used to just be the cute girl in the office, he can remember the exact moment he laid eyes on her. She was walking around aimlessly with some files in her hands when he turned around at his desk. She looked lost, overwhelmed and like she was about to have a breakdown.

She looked at him with the same fear he felt on his first day, he took the file from her and knew exactly where it was meant to go. She followed behind him, quiet as a mouse as he placed it in a folder by the wall under a sign that said "Anderson."

He turned with a press-lipped smile and a nod and then they went their separate ways. Silent conversations became their thing, the only time he really heard her voice was when she called him in in the middle of the night or when he heard her on the phone.

Other than that; she smiled when they passed each other, she’d tap her watch when he needed to be doing something Hotch asked for and was preoccupied with something else, she even knew exactly what he was looking for by just observing his chaos. Always able to pull a sheet of paper from the bottom of the stack with ease, and always silently, until that one day she said sorry to him after slamming the phone.

Now he knows that she talks in her sleep, she likes to go over her plans out loud in the shower every morning, and she sings all day long. Be it little tunes, hums, random tongue clicks or whistling, she’s always making noise. His favourite, however, was when sometimes she’d remember something she was trying to remember during a conversation they had, 4 days prior, and she’d scream it out like he knows what she’s thinking every second of every day.

He was in love with her voice, he never wanted to stop hearing it.

He was in love with her face, he never wanted to stop seeing it.

He was in love with her body, he never wanted to stop touching it.

He was in love with her mind, he never wanted to stop exploring it.

All those thoughts rushing to his brain and rushing a new form of butterflies for him. Like anxiety, but happier. Like he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with her. It was anticipation rather than fear.

She really was it for him, and as he unboxed his life into the house they were about to share for the upcoming future, it all became very real. This was how the rest of his forever was going to look with her. All their memories from here on out were going to take place in this house, in these rooms.

When he picked this house, it was just a fun idea, and now he looks at the hardwood floors and thinks about how wet baby feet are going to sound during bath time. He wonders how many times the creaky steps are going to let him know she’s coming up to bed, he wonders what screaming matches and fights and love-making will happen beyond the bedroom door across from his study.

He wonders if she’s going to love him as long as he wants to love her.

He opens his study door then, “Hey, babe?”

“Yeah?” She calls up from the bottom of the stairs.

“Can you come up here?”

She marches up the stairs, still not used to the creaky staircase or the length of stairs she had to climb, soon enough, she’s on the second floor and walking into his study, “what’s up?”

He doesn’t know how to ask, he doesn’t even really know what he wants actually. He just missed her, and she was only just downstairs.

“Can I have a hug?”

It comes out more pathetic than he predicted, cringing at the embarrassment as he shrunk into the couch.

“Quartz,” her voice is soft as she approaches him.

Sitting on the brown leather couch that was once in his apartment, she wraps her arms around him and he holds her back softly.

Resting his head on her shoulder, he just wants to hold her for a while. Eventually, they end up laying down with her on his chest, still holding each other as silent as they were in the beginning.

“I love you,” Spencer whispers against her hair.

She snuggles in more, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder softly, “I love you, too, are you okay?”

He nods softly, “I was just thinking about everything and I wanted to hold you.”

She swoons, “do you remember the first night we cuddled like this?”

He nods again, brushing his chin against her head each time, “it all feels like history repeating like it’s supposed to be this way for us.”

“I like to think so,” she agreed. “I actually think you’re my twin flame.”

He hums, thinking about it, “I’m not sure I know what that means.”

“So soulmates are kind of like mirror souls, they are exactly everything that the other needs and they fill the missing parts for each other." She explains softly and he can already tell where her rant is going.

"I don’t think that’s us because we are too similar; sometimes we butt heads and don’t see eye-to-eye, and you drive me crazy a lot of the time because we have the same anxiety and daddy issues, but it’s also because you do things I think about doing and then I can’t do them because they're done already and they’re my calm down things so then I have nothing to calm down with, like yesterday-“

“Babe,” he whispers, “I know, we finish each other’s sandwiches, that’s what your niece said when she saw us together.”

It makes her smile and he can feel her cheekbone against his chest, “twin flames are what happens when one soul is ripped in half and sent to two bodies. They’re capable of surviving separately, as long as they have the right kindling, but they burn brighter together.”

“People sometimes think fire is living because it consumes and uses energy, requires oxygen, and moves through the environment,” Spencer says softly, “have you ever seen something catch fire on both ends?”

“Yeah, a few times, why?”

“It’s never about burning the item entirely, both fires are only concerned with connecting to each other for mass destruction. They always burn in the strangest patterns, but they always connect first before devouring the victim.”

She sits up to look at him, “are you saying I devoured you?”

“That would be de-flowered,” he teases, “but no, I’m saying it makes sense. We really have been burning through everything to find each other.”

“I cannot believe you just said I de-flowered you before the most beautiful thing you’ve ever said,” she laughs, “and it was a mutual de-flowering, might I remind you.”

“I will never forget,” he coos, leaning forward and pressing his lips against hers.

She pushes him back against the couch, it’s been forever since they’ve really done anything. With moving, Spencer’s recovery, her working nights and sleeping all day. It hasn’t been rewarding in a long time, it’s just been enjoyable.

“No,” he whispers as she starts to trail kisses down his neck. “I’m not having sex on the couch the first time we do it in the house.”

She laughs against his neck, pushing herself off the couch and extending a hand to him, “did the doctor even say you can yet?”

“I can’t do all the work, but I can give a second opinion?” He couldn’t stop the grin on his face as she hauled him to his feet.

“Let me heal you,” she whispers, and he knows exactly what she means.

She lays him down on their bed, on top of the covers with no clothes on as she gathers her things. She closes the blinds, turns on her amber lamp, and lights her candles. But his favourite thing that she adds is the sound therapy… helping the water in his body vibrate at the right frequency to calm him completely. She’s going all out for this one.

Much like the first time.

She’s naked too, both of them completely unfazed by each other’s naked form by now. She sits between his legs with all her chakra stones in her hands and she sets them down on his stomach before arranging them in order where they’re supposed to help on his body.

The Amethyst is just above his head for his crown chakra, touching his scalp gently. He closes his eyes as she places a Lapis Lazuli on his third eye, in the centre of his forehead. An Aquamarine on his throat. Rose Quartz on his heart, Tiger’s Eye on his solar plexus, Pyrite on his belly button and finally, Fire Agate at his core.

He always felt so totally relaxed like this, even the first time she ever laid him down like this. He was so calm, he knew he was in good hands and seeing her bless the room made him feel even better.

“Only good may enter here,” the words she repeats every full moon when she opens the windows and blessed the whole house. Keeping them safe, happy, healthy and loved.

She kissed the scar on his knee, causing him to open his one eye to see her. She was laying between his legs now, head resting on his hip as she lightly ran her fingers over his knee, ticking the skin where he finally had feeling again. It took forever for the numbness to go away, even longer for the pain. But she was so patient with him the whole time, taking the best care of him.

She doesn’t mind that he’s hard, she’s very close to his dick as it rests on his stomach beside the crystal.

She kisses his hip, inching each kiss over until she’s pressing one right to the shaft of his dick and he takes a deep breath. Knowing she’ll stop if he forgets how to do the breathing exercises she showed him. He wasn’t allowed to tense his body, this was about pleasure and there was no rush.

For either of them.

He’s done this for her a few times over the years too, just as slow and sensual as she was being. It was calming, rewarding, they bonded with each other and really felt like one being this way.

He heard a cap open, but he was so used to it by now that it filled him with contentment rather than excitement. He remembers the first time she said she wanted to do this, getting some skin-safe, homemade, vegan massage lube and almost turning inside out with how awkward she was asking to do this for their first time.

She sat on her knees between his legs with a small bounce as she got excited about her favourite part. She sat with the bottle resting between her thighs, warming up while she ran some of it over her hands. She massaged his thighs first, getting all the knots and making sure there was no “Charlie's on any horses”, the first time she said that he almost cried laughing and ruined the mood for a little.

She took the rocks off him then, sitting more on his hips as she drizzled the warm oil on his chest. He let his hands rest on her knees, wanting to feel her skin while she felt his. Her hands felt like magic, running over his chest, arms and shoulders like this was her job. She knew every crook, every cranny, every pressure point and soft tissue on him. His body was just as much her’s now.

It's when she presses her body flat against his that he knows the mood is changing. Her breasts are flat against his chest, her hands are behind his head as she looks down at him, her groin pressed right against him as he aches for contact, grinding up into her slowly as she stares into his eyes.

“Better?” She whispered with a small smile, already feeling how much calmer he was, she just wanted confirmation.

“Much,” he’s just as quiet in his reply. “If I don’t bend that knee, it’ll be fine.”

“I don’t mind doing all the work, baby,” she kisses him quickly, “I know you like it more like this anyway.”

She slithers down his body then, his body slick with oil as she easily glides down and creating the most wonderful amount of friction with him. He groans, tossing his head back against the Amethyst on his scalp.

She sits on his good thigh, avoiding pressure with his bad knee like he was an old man now. She makes contact with the only part she didn’t message, adding more of the massage lube to her hand before lazily jerking him off. He keeps a hand on her thigh, groping and managing her right back as she kept a perfect rhythm.

She occasionally grinds against his thigh, mostly when he moans and groans. Extremely turned on by him having a good time, proud of herself for relaxing him, always complaining that he was too tense, she really knew how to release the pressure.

Just as she gets into it, the calming sounds of rain and high-pitched frequencies come to an end… Rhiannon starts playing and he literally watches her come alive; changing her rhythm to match the beat as she starts to grind against him more, she only added his song to the queue, somehow an hour had passed and her music was resuming.

And when Spencer said she was eclectic, he meant she could go from listening to a rare Canadian band called the Tragically Hip, to Kanye West, Taylor Swift, Evanescence and back to Fleetwood Mac. He had no idea where the mood was about to go.

He moved his hand up her thigh as he tried to power through the pleasure, her hand was so amazing he was bubbling away under his skin. He manages to get his middle finger between his leg and her, massaging her clit as she bucked her hips down on him.

Mutual pleasure in any sense was enough for them, seeing the other being perfectly content after everything they went through; it was euphoric. She leans up then and kisses him desperately, unable to stop stroking him as she sucked his tongue into her mouth.

She smiles against his mouth as the song changes again, it’s the song from the ending of Dirty Dancing, he knows how much she loves that movie. Her kisses get softer, she’s so gentle as she strokes him just a few more times before throwing a leg over his hips and lowering herself onto him in one go. Bottoming out faster than before, both of them making the same moan as they curled forward for each other, mouths clashing as they held onto each other.

Grinding together, Spencer kept a hand on her to help her ride as she was preoccupied with her hands in his hair and kissing his neck as they moved in tandem. It was so good, he was incredibly close but he wanted to hold off as long as possible to feel her finish first.

His ultimate pleasure was knowing she was pleasured, he massaged her clit once more between their bodies and she shuttered, “right there,” her words are small as she kisses under his ear, tugging his hair softly as he moans so she can lick at his neck as she moves her hips up and down, gloriously.

He can’t keep his eyes open, everything is too much and he’s so relaxed; it’s like his body is floating on a cloud as she rides him like they’re actually in heaven. He was really having the time of his life and it made him smile at the end of the whimper he released as she tightened around him suddenly and on purpose.

She moves faster, and so does his wrist as he helps her over the edge first. She’s panting in his ear as she rides him with purpose. She cums with a gasp and then he’s gone, her whole body stuttering as she let out the most relaxed and uncontrollable moan he’s ever heard from her.

His grip on her ass tightens as he holds her hips down, he cums with a gasp and it’s so powerful he passes out.

—

He’s so cute when he sleeps.

She’s got him all cleaned up, everything put away and where it’s supposed to be in their new room. She just lays beside him as she watches him nap, blissed out and relaxed, she doesn’t even care that it’s such a typical guy thing to fall asleep right after.

That was kind of her mission.

He’s been so stressed, he wasn’t going to tell her because he didn’t want his stress to become her stress like it so often did. Feeding off each other like a fire, he really knew how to give a phrase to a feeling. But he was stressed because he was in pain from his knee and no matter how much he lied and said he was fine, she knew he wanted to relieve the pain but he was afraid of even taking a Tylenol.

This is the most relaxed he’s been in months.

She ordered a pizza while he was asleep, it arrived before he woke up too. She sets the pizza box, 2 bottles of pop and a roll of napkins at the end of the bed, gently, before getting back into her spot.

She brushed his hair from his face and kissed the tip of his nose gently, seeing him scrunch his face and swallow before blinking awake. She smiled at him, “Hi, sleepyhead.”

“Hello, beautiful.”

“I ordered pizza,” she whispers.

“Olive,” he replies.

“Well yeah,” it makes her giggle but she has to say it, “I got our regular green olives, mushrooms and extra cheese.”

He laughs too, extra happy after both the sex and his nap. “I love you,” he says the full thing this time.

She presses another kiss to his lips before hauling him into a sitting position, “I love you, too.”

It’s the best night of her life so far.

the house

Taglist: @dreatine for inspiring a part 2 <3

@shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor @blanchardsbk

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

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fill-me-with-your-memes-daddy · 3 years

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Watching the Rise of the Titans movie and I'll be documenting all of my thoughts/reactions here. [Spoiler Warning]

So instead of reblogging every new update, I'm just going to have this post up on my phone as I watch and type my reactions in a bullet list format.

Nari's human disguise is so cute. As someone who does have a cottagecore aesthetic, I want to cosplay her so bad

Are Skrael and/or Belroc non-binary coded? Regardless, I'm also obsessed and I want to fuck Skrael and be Belroc.

STEVE CARING ABOUT JIM BEING HURT YESSSS!!! My god his redemption has probably been one of the greatest there is because he doesn't just suddenly go from being a bully to a completely good person. You can see the gradual shift in learning better throughout the shows which is awesome.

IN NEW YOOOOOOORRRRRRRK!!!!!! CONCRETE JUNGLE WHERE DREAMS ARE MADE OFFFFFFFFFFFFF!!!!!

The mugshot montage reminded me of season 1 of trollhunters when toby and Jim were arrested at the museum.

STRICKLER PUT A RING ON IT??? HE'S THE ONLY DILF IVE EVER ACTUALLY AGREED WAS HOT WYM I CAN'T HAVE HIM??? well I'm still really happy about his arc over the series probably one of my favorite character growths.

Eli my guy got his growth spurt!!! As an 18 year old who is still 5'0", I'm happy but envious for him

So I went into this movie without watching any trailers or promo, but I doubt anything could have prepared me for the existence of mpreg. In fact, I wasn't going to document my reactions until I saw that.

NAMURA!!!!!!!!! MY BELOVED!!!!!! I CAN STILL THIRST FOR YOU WITHOUT GUILT

The coach teacher just called the kids zoomers so I have to dock one point from my final rating just because of that. Unforgivable

Those husky animation models suck lmao

Oh fuck the titans got power ranger zords!!

God why did they include the mpreg??? This movie would have been perfect without it.... After that plot point being revisited only one time I'm already beyond done with it

Like it's bringing me back to the v*ltron days where they're was a suspiciously high amount of klance omegaverse and mpreg fics and art created and it physically hurts because Steve and Keith's voice actor is the same person meaning this is especially cursed to me since I was unfortunately in the v*ltron fandom and remember all of that

But like on another note, how old are these characters again??? I haven't checked any wikis because of spoilers but is Steve an adult??? I know aja might be technically a lot older than 18 because alien but is whatever age she is equivalent to an adult as far as emotionally and physically in Akaridion development??? IS THIS A TEEN (M)PREGNANCY IN A KIDS SHOW????

Like bruh I saw a singular post on here before going into the movie that was like "rott spoilers without context" and there was a pregnant belly but I was absolutely not expecting the actual context of it. I'll find the post after I finish and edit this post to tag the creator right here: @makoden

This entire post is just gonna be me ranting about mpreg huh

Anyway I love the whole roundtable allusion to the legends of king arthur (not the toa version but the one he's based off)

THERE'S 3 TO 5 BABIES????? I need to take a break bruh this is just too much

Alright I've taken a 30 minute break got some food and did some things i love (decompressed by tactile stimming with some owl plushies and watched some videos on my favorite owl, Garu. He lives in Japan with his owner and is a domesticated eagle owl who basically just acts like a sky cat. If anyone else needs some eye bleach, here is their YouTube channel)

Blinky and ARRRGHHH!!! saying their "if one of us doesn't make it" talk my god one of them is going to die I can see it and I will be utterly crushed. Jim can't lose another father figure and Toby can't lose his wingman again I will riot if this happens

On a similar but unrelated to the movie note, can we just talk about how toa started with Jim having 0 dads and (if strickler and blinky live to the end) will end with 2 dads? Like I just really feel happy for him that he has two dads who actually figured out how to put the past behind them to not have any infighting between them so that both of them are healthy father figures. Jim has already been through literal hell and back losing his actual humanity in the process so if he loses one of them, I'm going to be really pissed because at this point, this is just Jim torture porn. Y'all know how as SpongeBob SquarePants went on, the show just became Squidward torture porn? It's starting to feel that way for toa and I really hope they cut the shit by the ending

Jlaire is such a good ship but like I feel like it's too perfect they never disagree with each other

YESSSSSSS Someone finally doesn't treat toby like a fat waste of space who messes stuff up!!! I think out of all the characters that would have been most deserving of a rewrite, it's Toby. Sometimes I just feel he's only comic relief and any heartfelt moments he's had in the series was also born of stupidity (ie his flour baby project being unharmed was seen by him as divine intervention from his parents but was actually just Eli and Steve behind the scenes).

Ohhhhh yesssssss Archie's father!!! I was hoping I'd see him again because we got so little of him last

Ooooooooooh Asian trollmarket!!!!!

Oh never mind slavery trollmarket

Bruh titanic camelot

I feel like we're not seeing enough of the villains because I completely forgot about the power ranger zord things

NAMORA NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MY LAST CRUSHHHH

STRICKLER NO NOT YOU TOO PLEASE

WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THE ONLY TWO CHARACTERS I SIMP FOR ON THIS SHOW DIED WITHIN FIVE MINUTES OF EACH OTHER

THAT WHOLE ASS RANT I WROTE IS COMING TRUE FUCK THIS MOVIE THIS SERIES IS JUST JIM TORTURE PORN

WAIT JIM'S SPERM DONOR INFO?

Oh thank God I don't want to know anything about that person

For the record, I call that man Jim's sperm donor because he has no business being called a father to him. All he did was donate some swimmers to the creation of him and give him abandonment issues

Oh another blind troll elder???? This fucker is just if vendel was a bad guy

Bruh I was grieving

PACIFIC RIM WITH GUN ROBOT VEX AND THE BELROCZORD? I've never seen that movie but I know the reference

Bruh Blinky doesn't read horoscopes? Does he realize conspiracy theories are just the manly version of horoscopes?

NO DON'T KILL VEX STOP KO-ING FOUND FAMILY MEMBERS

Oh thank God he's okay

NO NOT ARCHIE AND CHARLEMAGNE OH MY GOD

oh never mind they're just gonna coup de tat I believe in them :))

But I want to see him again

But I'm glad to see vex

Yay they're in arcadia!

But yeah I wondered why the trolls and Merlin didn't keep the whole "daylight doesn't hurt trolls" feature from the eternal night but now Guillermo del Toro I see you were playing the long con in that just to kill my girl Namora :(((

Oooooh I love the animation of the Narizord over Chihuahua!! It looks very good and realistic (if only they could have put some of that into those huskies from before smh)

Bruh the character designs of the arcane order are so good I want to be them

Nari making sure the Skraelzord doesn't crush the bus

DAMN DOUBLE HOMICIDE

Bruh I'm just glad we finally have an answer on why arcadia had everything going on as opposed to literally anywhere else!! I always found that as a weird coincidence for plot convince.

BRUH WERE BACK TO THE MPREG IM SO JEALOUS I FORGOT ABOUT THAT EVEN THOUGH IT WAS BECAUSE I WAS GRIEVING THE LOSS OF MY LOVELIES.

Oh that's real convenient that the ninth configuration meant all of them. Way to not decide which character gets more attention. Though it probably was a smart way to not have any infighting in the fandom between each character's stan group.

Bruh I just realized where is Barbera did they just ditch her on the Camelot ship???

And where are the other trolls that migrated at the end of trollhunters s3? They said something about new jersey but obviously Jim and the other main characters got on Camelot instead.... This feels like a plot hole

And we never learned the process of how changelings are made and bonded to humans and stuff. We just know it's super painful but I'm curious ffs!!!!

THE DONT THINK BECOME HERO SPEECH ALL SAID TOGETHER!!!

BRUH THEY REALLY HAD TO SHOW HIM GIVING BIRTH??????? WAS THAT AN ABSOLUTE MUST??????

Plus the main audience for this series is little children (the rating for the movie is literally TV-Y7) so even though my adult ass is not in the target audience, I STILL DONT UNDERSTAND WHY WOULD MPREG AND ANAL BIRTH WOULD BE AN IMPORTANT THING TO 7 YEAR OLDS???? THIS IS A LITERAL FETISH HIDDEN IN KIDS CONTENT ITS ELSAGATE ALL OVER AGAIN Y'ALL 😭😭😭😭😭

Though it's probably hypocritical of me to think fetishes don't belong in kids tv when I've openly admitted to thirsting for strickler and namora

HUZZAH

NEW AMULET WAZ GOOD????

STAB THAT BITCH JIM

WAIT NO I SAID STAB NOT GET STABBED

Alright good job just missed the directions at first but you fixed it

SEVEN KIDS?????????

T O B Y ????????????

W A I T NO

N O

IS HE ACTUALLY

OH MY GOD THERE'S HOPE

NO THERE ISN'T

F U C K THIS SHIT THEY REALLY JUST HAD HIM TO BE BULLIED THEN KILLED

Y'ALL IM ACTUALLY CRYING THIS NEVER HAPPENS

I NEVER ACTUALLY GET SO EMOTIONAL OVER MEDIA THAT I CRY IT ONLY HAPPENED ONCE AT THE END OF VOLTRON BUT AHHHHHHHH

W A I T

HE'S GONNA BE BROUGHT BACK?????

HOLD UP THEY'RE JUST GONNA BRING ALL THOSE DEAD PEOPLE BACK??????

WAIT IS HE

BLINKY CALLED HIM A SON

HOLD ON IS THIS GOING TO BE A CLIFFHANGER???????????

BRUH THEY REALLY JUST CAN'T END THE SERIES WITHOUT CLIFFHANGERS like there's always an open ending

TROLLHUNTER TOBY????? You know what forget the whole rants I had on how toby was written they just redeemed it all

And that's all! I'd rate it a 6.5/10 because it's definitely the weakest of all the sequels but still had amazing animation and some good plot points. It's just really hard to look over the bad stuff enough to rate it any higher.

#tales of arcadia #rise of the titans #trollhunters #rott #rise of the titans spoilers #rott spoilers #toa #3 below #athena's own original post!#jim lake jr #claire nuñez #toby domzalski

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dreamcatcherrs · 3 years

Text

toxic - sapnap x reader

+ this is an entry for the writing competition hosted by @salinesoot! go and show them some love<3

++ DISCLAIMER; in no way do I claim that sapnap is addicted to any form of drugs. this is all just fiction! with that I hope you enjoy this longer story :)

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: drug addict/ex-lovers au! addict!sapnap x addict!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: months after your break-up, nick reaches out to you to put a peaceful ending to the disastrous fall of your relationship. the meet-up is rough; you're not willing to comply with anything he’s saying, and he just can't seem to get over the state he sees you in once he arrives.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 5.952

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: !ADDICTION! drugs, alcohol, smoking, break-ups, swearing, manipulation (?), abandonment.

I want to put a very big emphasis on addiction, as I don't want to trigger anyone! if you feel in any way uncomfortable with the things listed above, please don't continue reading :) thank you.

playlist:

save your tears - the weeknd

so high - doja cat

apocalypse - cigarettes after sex

high - sivik

habits - tove lo

champagne problems - taylor swift

the silence in the room was violent - it lay like a thick fog between you; hard to breathe in, hard to see through. not to mention the rays of sunshine hitting your back through the windows behind you, glowing into his clear eyes and burning you up inside. but not in a nice way - not in the same way that the first intake of the tip of a cigarette would once set to a flame; not in the same way the almost glowing row of white would once going up your nose and through your system. no, this kind of burn felt claustrophobic, not freeing or euphoric at all. it felt awful - but not as awful as his sorry eyes staring over your body like you were the entrance to a pity party.

a quiet flicker sprung from the lighter in your hand, a small flame glowing under the shade of your frame. your brows furrowed slightly as you lifted the lighter to the death stick sat between your lips, silently lighting it and immediately sucking the sweet smoke right into your tired body like it was oxygen to you. removing the cigarette from your lips and letting it hang from your index and middle finger, you blew out the smoke in one big puff, eyes meeting his.

“so... what do you want?” you snarled at your ex-lover, leaning back on your seat on the counter to lean your weight on your right hand - the one without the cigarette -, watching as he inhaled through his mouth slightly, only to quickly close it again once catching some of the smoke in his mouth. he waited till the cloud was gone to speak up;

“can you... not do that in here?” was the first thing he could say to you. one year after leaving you, and that’s the first thing he has to say? it made you scoff, but you chose to put out the cigarette in the ash tray beside you anyways. funny how times can change so quickly.

he cleared his throat before adding; “I don't smoke anymore - I’ve been clean for nine months now.”

the way he said it with such pride, such happiness - it angered you. was it because you were the one sitting in the dust and ashes of addiction, and not him? well, you both knew it wasn't. or at least he would if he had a sense of memory, which you guessed he had.

all you could do was raise your eyebrows at his words, arms crossing over your chest after bouncing off the kitchen counter. “I asked you a question nick - not for an update of your wonderful life,” you spat, squinting your eyes at him. his eyes somehow softened, and you just hated to see it. because you knew it made your heart beat just a little bit faster. you knew it brung back memories that you both despised and at the same time absolutely loved to have.

he moved away from the fridge he had been leaning his back against, scratching the back of his neck as he looked at the ground instead of your eyes.

“I came to apologise.”

“for what?”

“for… everything.”

it was at the biggest college party of the year for newcomers that he met you.

he was high. he’d spotted you in the crowd, looking like a lost puppy. was that what made him come to you? no, but he couldn’t deny the fact that your innocent complex caught his attention. throughout the night, his eyes would gaze away from the conversation he had with his friends and over to you, and after a nice two rows of heroin through his nostrils, bubbling his blood and dilating his pupils, was when he noticed the guy approaching you. grabbing you, twirling your hair around his finger when you were clearly uncomfortable with it. and as if he hadn't already had about 3 already, he chugged a whole can of beer all in one go, before pushing himself out of the chair he was sat in. clay and george mumbled something in drunk behind him that his ears blocked out anyway as he moved towards the douche in front of you, combing a had through his hair.

he made it to you just as the guy grabbed your thigh with his rough, dirty fingers that god knows where had been, and with complete fury and the world spinning around him, nick grabbed the guy by his shoulder, turning him around to be met with his fist. when the realisation hit you, you visibly gasped (not that he could hear it over the loud music or the ringing in his ears), watching in shock as the guy stumbled back into the cupboard behind him, hand reaching up to grab his eye. the people around you seemed to notice as well, some stepping back a little in shock, some taking photos, some laughing and wooing for more. when nick noticed that the guy was about to get up again, and to his knowledge about to throw some punches back at him, he quickly grabbed you by the waist, pulling you to his side.

“get your filthy hands off my s/o,” he snarled, drunkenly and not very intimidating, but still made for a good effort. he didn't notice the way you'd tried to hide your disgust when smelling his alcoholic breath and his scent of weed - everything was hard to pay close detail to when in a drunken state like his.

to nick’s surprise, the guy, who by the was was way bigger than him and could probably easily take him down in one hit, backs away with a bleeding nose, and everyone else returns to partying as normal.

he turns to you, and you’re blushing. either that or you’ve just taken 10 shots in a row, but that was clearly not the case. your lips moved, but he would have to have the most powerful ears to be able to hear you over the loud music pumping through his body. so instead he leans down, lips hovering by your ear.

“what?” he slurred, loud enough for you to hear, and as if your cheeks weren’t already burning, his close proximity to you sure didn’t help. from behind, a couple of giggling girls shoved into him to get over to the counter filled with alcohol, causing him to push you further against the cupboard. his hand landed on your hip in reflex, preventing him from literally falling into you.

quickly you uttered out into his ear, louder this time; “I- I said thank you,” and closed your eyes tightly in embarrassment, because why did you have to stutter? and why did this drunk mess of a guy have to be so goddamn attractive?

he took a step back, letting his hands fall with him. he looked back at his friends - clay glancing over at him, laughing confusedly, while george was busy downing a shot with karl. he ignored clay’s signal to come back to the table, and instead leaned over to your ear again.

“you wanna get out of here?”

your eyes widened. why did this complete stranger want to leave one of the biggest parties with you? it would be stupid to say yes, yet something in you strived to know what the night could turn out like if you did. it’s not like you had much fun anyway, and what the hell, your life isn’t one filled with surprises, so what was one night filled with them gonna change?

“so... you’re a first year’er?” nick inhaled deeply, the smoke from the blunt of weed between his lips going straight to his head. you nervously scratched your elbow, kicking a harmless rock that was in the way of your path as you nodded. the smell from the stick of weed in his hand went through your nostrils, tickling your nose in a not-so-pleasant way. you chose to ignore this though, not wanting to seem fussy.

“yeah. but parties are not really my forte, in case you hadn’t noticed,” you laughed quietly, folding your arms over your chest when a cold breeze fanned your body. he turned to look at you with slightly squinted eyes, taking in your sober self.

“well, have you ever tried weed? cause I’ll tell you; everything can be a party with this shit.” he laughed at himself, sucking in smoke once again from the blunt, before turning to see you shake your head. he suddenly passed it in your direction. you stared down at it, a trail of smoke rising from the tip of it, before looking at him again. “wanna try?”

he didn't look too bothered wether you said yes or no - just high and drunk out of his mind, which actually made him look kinda peaceful and… cute? what the fuck. you shrugged your shoulders, grabbing the stick of weed from between his fingers. it was the start of college - everyone does this, right?

“do I just… inhale?” you asked, clearly a rookie and non-professional weed-smoker. he chuckled, stopping in his tracks, making you stop as well, as he fished out something from the pocket of his jacket; a lighter.

“yeah, you just gotta light it again cause of the wind. just treat it like a cig.” you raised your eyebrow at him, watching as he stepped closer to you with the lighter, waiting for you to put the blunt between your lips, and when you didn't was when he noticed your confusion and raised eyebrow. he looked shocked. “you've never smoked a cigarette before?” you shook your head, swinging your arms along with their place inside the pockets of your jacket, a lopsided smile forming on your face. his eyes widened further. “drugs? alcohol? nothing?” you gave an innocent smile, flashing your teeth at him as you shook your head. he raised his eyebrows. “damn. well, it’s no shocker to me that you don't like parties then. you've never tried real partying.”

he softly took the blunt from your hand, gesturing for you to open your mouth, before tucking it between your parted lips. he moved closer to you, close enough so he could focus on protecting the flame from the wind using his hand, and holding the lighter up to the tip of the weed stick. “this’ll be fun,” he mumbled to himself, igniting the lighter. “now you just inhale and then eventually blow out the smoke. it might burn to start with, but fuck does it feel good afterwards.”

you did as he said, squinting your eyes as you inhaled the smoke, feeling your throat burn with every passing second you of inhaling, and before you had the chance to blow it into a cloud casually, you coughed out all of the smoke, choking on the pure taste and burn of weed. he chuckled lightly, patting your back gently as he watched you gasp for fresh air.

“alright alright, not too bad.” he took the blunt once you handed it over to him again, easily inhaling the smoke like it was nothing to him, before blowing it out into the fresh september air in different sizes of ‘o’s. you watched in amazement as he did so, wondering how long you’d have to smoke for, for a person to be able to do that. your guess was quite a while.

he handed it over to you again, encouraging you to take it. you did. “here, keep it.” he sent you a dopey smile, watching as you took it. you placed it in your mouth just as the wind passed through you again, making your body shiver very obviously. you were stupid to not bring a jacket. in your defense, you thought that you wouldn’t have stayed long at that party anyway; not that you’d be here, walking through an empty playground with a stranger. well, not a stranger anymore - nick was his name, as you’d come to learn.

he noticed your freezing self as you inhaled again, the smoke making you cough again even when you tried your hardest not to. busy getting your oxygen under control, you didn’t notice him taking off his leather jacket before it hung heavy on your shoulders, immediately giving warming you up from the body warmth it had consumed from him.

you moved the stick out of your mouth, looking at him with a raised eyebrow, trying to play his gesture off cool. “what are you doing? you’ll freeze.”

he scoffed playfully, inhaling the fresh smell of the cool air. “I’m drunk out of my mind right now. you think I even think about what temperature it is right now?” you giggled at that. it was crazy how your cheeks were able to grow so warm despite the cold breeze flushing over you constantly, hands tugging the jacket tighter to yourself.

“thank you,” you quietly said, a small smile spreading across your face. your head started feeling empty - a good kind of empty, causing you to smile even more without even noticing. the sudden release of dopamine in your brain was causing you to feel lighter - that’s what it was, you thought.

without realising, your eyes had been closed and you’d stopped walking anymore, just taking in the feeling and the nice, fresh air hitting your skin in small waves. you felt a hand on your back, and then heard a quiet laugh from beside you. you turned in the direction, opening your eyes and smiled up at the handsome creature of a male in front of you. he smiled along with you, looking into your clouded eyes with his reddened ones, placing his hands on your neck softly.

he started laughing. and you started laughing. you placed your hands on top of his, leaning in closer to get a better look at his eyes. they looked like a cave filled with shiny crystals if you looked close enough. and you’d still be looking into them when he kissed you if he hadn’t closed them.

it was mainly a very toothy kiss, your white pearls clanging together as your smiles stayed on your faces throughout the kiss. when he pushed his tongue in between them though, they slightly faltered, and your hands flew up to hold his face in your hands as he started kissing you harder and with additional sloppiness.

you pulled away to catch your breath, and before he had the chance to lean in for a second kiss, you placed the marijuana between your lips, spending him a playful smile as you sucked in the burning smoke.

were you high or were you just crazy about this guy that you barely even knew? at that very moment you felt that the answer was both.

your brows furrowed. he actually looked… sorry? you weren't sure if you were willing to hear what he had to say - after all he’d put you through. but… something made you listen. something made you wanna give him the chance to speak up. maybe it was the soft spot you had for him in you heart, that you so badly wanted to deny yourself was there.

“look… I know I’m the reason you've ended up like this. I’m the reason you can't even let go of that pack of cigarettes in your hand. and I can't stop thinking about that every single day. I- I ruined you, y/n. and I realise- well, I’ve realised this a long time ago - I just left you here to rot. all alone. I fucked you up, and left you to deal with it all alone. and I’m really fucking sorry about that. I treated you so badly and got you into things you probably wouldn't have gotten into if you'd never met me...” he trailed off, a solemn look in his eyes, almost glowing as they stared compassionately into yours.

you broke away from them, a soft frown on your face as they trailed off to the wine shelf stacked with bottles of alcohol behind him. he was right. you knew he was. but it didn’t explain why he came here. to seek your sympathy? for you to accept his apology? to give him that form of closure? you weren’t really sure if he deserved that.

he saw the look on your face, and figured he’d continue; “I don’t expect you to accept my apology or... stop being mad at me. I just wanted to come here to finish things the right way instead of the way we left it. well, the way I left it.” all of a sudden he stopped in his tracks, eyes focused on your arm. his eyes widened once noticing the bruise on the inside of your elbow, clearly from some type of syringe or needle. he would know what that looked like.

he took swift steps towards you, grabbing your arm in shock. you were worse than he had thought. you looked down in shame when his eyes tried meeting yours.

“y/n,” he said seriously, very carefully rubbing his thumb across the mark. “you need help. like, serious help. you can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

with that, you tore your arm away from him, staring into his eyes with your eyebrows furrowed and teary-eyed. “why do you care? since when did you ever care, nick? I don’t understand why you’re here - you don’t really want to help me.” you stepped away from him, heading over to the pile of ashes from the previously smoked cigarettes to get another one, but were stopped by his hand grabbing your arm.

he hugged you.

you sobbed into his shoulder,

and hugged him back.

you swallowed a big gulp of air, craning your neck as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. a pleasurable smile appeared on your face, the sweet feeling of cocaine rushing through your system being the cause of it. you lay down on the flat rooftop of the college gym, inhaling the smoke from the already ignited cigarette between your two fingers. you blew the smoke out into the air in small rings, like nick had showed you, happily succeeding in it. needless to say, you'd done it for what felt like a million times before.

nick grabbed your hand from his place on the roof beside you. you turned your head to look at him, squeezing his hand in the process. he moved closer to you, lifting your hand to his lips before placing a wet kiss onto the back of it. he gestured for you to place the cigarette between his lips, and you did so, holding it in place as he inhaled the smoke like you had. when you moved the cigarette away from him though, he pushed you closer to him by the back of your neck, placing this lips on yours in time for him to blow the smoke from his mouth into yours, catching you by surprise.

you waited till he’d moved away again to blow the smoke out, turning your head as you did so so that he wouldn’t get it in his face. he laughed at the way your eyes had widened, leaning over you to place a kiss on your flush cheek.

“did you like that?” he asked with a raspy voice, followed by a giggle and still holding your hand in his as he clung it to his chest. you looked up at him with a pouty smile, watching as his eyes crinkled at your soundless response.

“you know… we’re probably not allowed up here,” you muttered, tracing figures onto his palm

“yeah, we’re not allowed many things. including all of this cocaine, but I don't plan on stopping,” he replied nonchalantly, clawing up some of the white, illuminating powder onto his finger, sniffing it up his nose with one large inhale, before exhaling deeply in satisfaction. you watched as he did so, and it made your chest turn. something about this felt wrong all of a sudden. you felt bad, ashamed to even be sat on a roof at 2 am, doing drugs and smoking weed, when you really came here to study and make friends.

your thoughts did not just swim away once he started leaving small little pecks onto your neck, hair tickling your jawline with bubbly giggles flying past his lips. you gently pushed him off, letting go of his hand and standing up from the rooftop. your sudden distress did not go unnoticed by nick, though, and he stood up with you, stumbling, but standing, watching as you threw the remains of the cigarette onto the ground, and looked off onto your campus with a clenched jaw and stern look on your face.

nick was confused, and a little uncertain with what he should do. you'd never acted like something was wrong before, so he didn’t exactly know what to do in this type of situation. all he could do was walk over to you, standing by your side as he looked off into the same direction as you. his eyes glanced over to you every now and then, chewing on what to say exactly. he tried saying something, but stopped himself before he had the chance to even let out a squeak.

“is.. what- argh. did I do something wrong?” he finally spoke, frustrated with his own form of speech. you turned your head to him, your small smile causing relief to rush through his body. when you responded with a ‘no’, he felt a little better, but that still didn’t stop him from seeing right through that smile and into your worried self. “well, what's wrong then?”

what's wrong? you almost wanted to ask yourself that question. why would you want to ruin such a nice moment with him just because of some doubt? maybe it was because you thought that all good things wouldn't last, and that whatever this was between you was too good to be true. or maybe it was the fact that you could feel your lungs set on fire just thinking of every bad thing you’d consumed into your previously healthy body, head feeling empty, but at the same time heavy enough to keep all of the bad things inside of it to weigh down on you. maybe it was because you'd never felt so unlike yourself before as you do now, and you weren't so sure if that was a good thing anymore.

when you told him this (well, the parts about the drugs, not your feelings), he sighed heavily, placing a hand on your shoulder to fully turn you to face him. “y/n,” he started, moving his hand up to your cheek and brushing his thumb over your cheekbone, sending you a lopsided grin. “you're overthinking too much.” you raised your eyebrows slightly, looking at him with a mix of confusion and hope in your eyes. he continued; “we’re just having fun. there’s noting wrong with that! isn’t that what college is all about?”

he did his best to assure you that nothing was wrong, and it seemed to be working. you eased up - he could feel it -, yet you still had that worried expression stuck on your face, and he knew he had to do something to change that. he kissed you softly, cold nose touching yours in the process. you couldn’t help but to kiss him back, placing your hands on the sides of his neck as you closed your eyes tightly, wanting nothing more than to get lost in his lips.

when he pulled away, the tip of his index finger lightly bopped your nose, causing the very least of a smile to form on your face. that made him smile. “don’t worry, baby,” he assured you, kissing your forehead before fishing the metallic circle-shaped box out of his pocket, offering you some of the addicting white powder by handing it to you. “we’re in this together.”

his phone buzzed on the coffee table, the waves of vibrations feeling as if they filled up the entire room. someone was calling him, and you only just managed to see that the caller ID was someone named “rose” before he dismissed the call. as far as you could remember, he’d never even met someone by that name.

he put his phone in his pocket, doing up the zipper before staring across the table and over to you again. his brushing off didn’t help your curiosity from spilling out. “aren’t you gonna get that?” you questioned, wiping the wetness on your cheeks away fully from your previous outburst of tears. you could still see the tear stains on his shirt.

he shook his head. “I have more important matters right now.” your heart warmed at his words and you hated to feel that. of course you’d been on his social media since your break-up - you knew very well that the girl calling was his new girlfriend. and as much as you hated yourself for feeling it, you couldn’t help the jealousy from flaming up inside of you. you decided to hold back from saying more about it, though, knowing that it would just be your hurt and anger talking.

he stared at you for a while with droopy puppy eyes, and it made you hate this moment even more, moving around in your seat to distract yourself from the situation. but then his hand was on yours, squeezing gently like he’d done so many times before. you tried not looking into his eyes, cause you knew it’d make you weaker, but it was so damn hard when all you could feel was his eyes burning into your skin, the pity from him seeping right into you. it made you feel awful.

“I want to help you, y/n. get you out of this shithole I put you in in the first place,” he explained lowly, rubbing his thumb across the back of your hand. tingles trickled up your arm and down your spine, a knot forming in your stomach. you looked down at the table, away from him. “I still care for you, you know?” he gave your hand a squeeze, wanting you to look at him again.

you didn’t.

he sighed.

letting go of your hand, he stood up from the chair. your eyes followed him as he walked over to your side of the table, pulling out the chair that was right beside you and taking a seat on it. he looked at you for a while, taking in the way you looked.

your eyes were bloodshot, red streaks coming out from the beautiful crystal in the middle of your eye. those deep and dark bags under your eyes weren’t there before, the cause of them being so very obvious. you were thinner, frail, weak. you looked as if you would break if he as much as lay a finger on you - like you’d turn to dust if he tried reaching out to you. if he tried to save you. it was soul-crushing to see you in this state. he couldn’t believe he’d done this to you.

you noticed his staring. he didn’t care. you needed to know this had gone too far, even if he was the cause of it.

he pulled his phone out of his pocket, pulling up a list of names and numbers on his phone from his contacts. he gave you his phone.

“these are the places I went to when I tried getting clean. it’d be no problem getting you in there. you just have to try. have to want the help. that’s all I ask from you.” you scrolled through the contacts slowly, like it’d make a difference to the foreign names on the screen.

“nick, I-,” you sighed and shook your head. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“of course you can,” he assured you, grabbing your hand once again. you turned your head to him, heart pumping louder in your chest as you stared at him. you missed him, you realised. “you won’t be alone.”

it all happened so fast.

you pulled him to you by his hand, yours coming up to grab his cheek softly to simultaneously pull his face to yours, closing your pained eyes tightly and-

“what are you doing?”

your voice boomed through the dark room. you stood with crossed arms and a tired look on your face, having just woken up by the rustling coming from the living room, only to find your boyfriend packing his stuff with tear-stained cheeks. worry shot through your tired body as you watched him halt, staring back at you with a startled expression on his face.

“y/n? wh-why are you awake?” he quickly shoved a shirt of his into the duffel bag in his hands, running a hand through his hair as he looked at you with baggy eyes.

your eyebrows furrowed. you knew what this looked like, and you realised exactly what was happening. he was leaving you. he’d been distant for the past few weeks, but you never thought it was because of you. you thought that, maybe, it was just a phase. because, he would never really leave you. would he?

you took a step towards him. “nick are you… leaving me?” you could feel the tears well up in your eyes when you heard yourself say it out loud. you felt like you’d just been hit by a truck, lungs failing and body crashing down. you didn’t understand. you didn’t understand at all.

he didnt answer, just looked down in shame? sorrow? you didn’t care. how could he leave you? how could he? you wanted to pinch yourself to wake up from this horrible dream- no. from this nightmare. but this wasn’t just a nightmare - it was reality. this was really happening.

“I-I don't understand, nick. don't you l-love me?” you sobbed, feeling your wet tears trickle down your face. here they came. the tears you hadn’t cried for so long now.

he softened up at the sight of you crying, wanting so badly to hug you, comfort you, but knowing that he couldn’t let himself. he had to leave somehow. leave this town, this drug-filled life. he had to escape it, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to with you.

“I can't stay here, y/n. I have to go,” he muttered lowly, grabbing his headphones from the coffee table and stuffing them into the bag as well. he started packing again.

“wh-why? I thought things were good between us?”

“they're not, y/n!” he yelled suddenly, causing you to step back slightly. he turned to you, a wild look on his face as his arms flailed around in the air. “I’m sick of only being able to feel good because I’m drugged up or drunk. I’m getting clean.”

he packed the last couple of things into the bag, scanning the room quickly to make sure he got most of it with him, before taking haste steps over to grab his jacket from the coat hanger. you followed after him with just as fast steps, heart beating out of your chest. was this the last time you were gonna see him? no. you refused to believe that.

“b-but you can't just leave me!” you pulled at his arm, tugging him over in your direction as he struggled to slide his leather jacket on. he looked at you for a moment, chest heaving slightly from the bad feeling he had inside of him.

“if you're not gonna let me leave, then you have to.”

you looked at him with pure shock and anger- the audacity. he sighed, calming himself down before continuing; “if you still love me you’d leave.”

you shook your head, angrily shoving a finger at his chest. “you got me into this mess in the first place! you’re the reason I’ve ended up like this! and you want me to leave?” you scoffed at his words, yelling out yours in rage as tears of frustration kept falling from your eyes.

he sighed, brows furrowed and a sad expression stuck on his face as he looked at the ground. “I’m sorry, y/n. I can't do this anymore.” he turned to grab the doorknob, and your eyes widened with the movement.

“you can't do this to me nick!,” you clawed at his arm, dragging him backwards, away from the door. but he was stronger than your weak body and easily pushed you away from him to get access to the door. you hit his back with your fists, crying out in anger as you did so.

“you bastard! you can't just leave me here!” he stayed quiet as he rushed out of the door, not even looking back as he made it out of the door, escaping your grasp on him. you sobbed even louder, walking out of the door to follow his body with your eyes as you collapsed to the ground. “I hate you! I fucking hate you, you hear me?”

nick silently cried as his back hit the elevator wall, the doors closing in front of him as he made his way downwards to the entrance of the apartment complex. what had he just done? he placed a hand over his mouth, wide eyes staring into thin air in shock. nick’s only ever done what he was raised to think was right. it’s not his fault, right?

it’s not.

for a moment, you kissed.

did he not pull away because his feelings for you were still there somewhere in the depts of him? or because he was so shocked that he was unable to think straight enough to pull away? honestly, he couldn’t tell.

but alas, he pushed you off. and all he could do was look at you, baffled, confused and feeling more lost than ever. “y/n…” he trailed off, watching as you stared back at him with wide eyes and red lips from the kiss, almost looking as if you were just as shocked as him.

“I’m… I’m happy now. without the drugs, without the alcohol, without the cigarettes. I’m with someone else now, y/n,” he mumbled quietly, hands still pressed against your shoulders as he stared at your plump lips in a flustered state. he sighed. “we can't be together, y/n. not like this.” he didn’t specify “like what”, but his eyes staring up and down your form clearly showed what he meant. you knew that already, but it still hurt you. it still hurt you that he’d moved on and you hadn't - that he was away from all of the things you now lived off of. it hurt you that he was able to find happiness without you.

he lifted your head up by your chin, and you hadn't even noticed that you were looking at the ground, and got to eye-level with you. his eyes were soft (when weren't they?) and this time, he looked like he was pleading, begging for you to hear him instead of denying him. “I want you to be happy, too. that’s why I’m trying to help you. if only you’d let me?”

your eyes dropped to the ground again, brows furrowing in thought. should you? should you let him into your heart again? into your shitty life? what if he just ended up leaving you again like he’d done before? breaking your heart into a million pieces this time instead of just two? you looked up at him again, biting down on your bottom as you made your final choice.

__________________________________

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drarrily-we-row-along · 3 years

Text

Day 4: Jealousy

Draco had a jealous streak a mile wide. He always had, for as long as he could remember. His jealous streak had given him plenty of things; jealousy was an excellent motivator.

But his jealousy had never felt quite like this.

In the past, he'd been jealous of tangible things: attention, possessions, grades, etc. Lately, though, Draco had found himself becoming jealous over increasingly inexplicable things. Most (all) of those things having to do with Potter. He was jealous of the normal things, too, like people who casually touched him, or the way Weasley could make him laugh, or the attention he bestowed on Granger when she was talking about her latest campaign. In all honesty, there was nothing new about those things.

But one day, while they were in training together, Draco found himself jealous of the rain.

(More below the cut)

Jealous of the rain as he watched Potter tip his head back and spread his arms to accept it. Jealous of the way the rain was allowed to touch his skin, of the way Potter opened himself up to it and allowed himself to relax under its ministrations.

On the day they received their auror uniforms he found himself jealous of the clothes that the other man put on his body. Jealous of the way the trousers hugged his strong thighs, jealous of the way his robes stretched across his broad shoulders. Jealous of the closeness that Draco had never been afforded.

He found himself quite preoccupied one afternoon as they sat filling out paperwork, jealous of the pen that Potter kept sticking in his mouth. He was jealous of the absentminded caress of lips and tongue, of the sharp nip of his teeth.

At night he found himself jealous of not only the people whom Potter could, theoretically, be spending the night with but also of the thought of his pillows and sheets. Jealous of the way that Potter must allow himself to be completely vulnerable to them; glasses removed, face lax as he slept. Something in Draco surged with a fierce longing at imagining seeing Potter with all of his walls torn down.

He found himself jealous of the work they did. Jealous of the way it consumed Potter's attention, of the way that Potter poured everything he had, everything he was, into solving the crimes set before them.

Draco was jealous of the wind. Jealous of the way it tousled Potter's already messy hair, tugging the curls back from his face.

He'd even been jealous of Potter's own hand earlier that day. Jealous of the way Potter had folded his hands, fingers slotting between each other, as they sat across from their perpetrator. He'd ached to feel the incongruity of the tender skin between his fingers and the callouses on his fingertips and palms.

Most of all, though, Draco was jealous of the way that Potter seemed to be happy. Not because he didn't want Potter to be happy; he did want him to be happy, he deserved to be happy. But because Potter seemed to be happy without Draco and Draco wasn't sure that he would ever be happy without knowing the way that Potter tasted, knowing the way he smelled, knowing the way his muscles felt as they shifted under his palms. He didn't know if he could ever be happy without knowing what Potter looked like when his guard was down, or knowing how his voice sounded when he was completely relaxed.

"You're staring again," Weasley said, snapping Draco's attention back from where he'd been watching Potter as he fetched a round for the team of aurors who'd just wrapped up a very challenging case.

"I'm not," he protested. It was a lie and they both knew it.

Weasley narrowed his eyes at him, "You could just ask him out, you know."

"Why would I do that?"

He rolled his eyes, "So the rest of us can stop watching you pine after one another. It's distracting."

His heart clenched painfully, the way it always did when someone (usually Weasley, damn him) suggested that perhaps this wasn't as one sided as it felt like it was. Shaking his head, he replied, "He's not interested."

"How would you know?" Weasley asked. "I've been his best mate for almost our entire lives. I think I'd know better than you."

"Well, then maybe he should use a bit of the famous Gryffindor courage and ask me," he said with a haughty sniff as he took a sip of his firewhiskey.

Weasley rolled his eyes and was about to reply when Potter came over, levitating a dozen drinks in his wake.

After setting down the drinks on the table with an impressive display of control, Potter plopped down in the seat between Draco and Weasley. Draco watch jealously as Potter leaned against Weasley, pressing their shoulders together for a long moment as though he was drawing strength from the other man.

The table was loud and rowdy, nearly full of Gryffindors, and Draco wondered (not for the first time) how he'd managed to find himself almost constantly surrounded by their brash, obnoxious selves.

Potter was quiet next to him, as Draco had noticed he often was, listening to the others, laughing and sharing in their joy; quietly supporting and encouraging them to be their most authentic selves.

It always made Draco want to tell them all to shut up. To just be quiet for a minute and let Potter talk, let him be himself, because if he was being honest he wanted to know everything about Potter. He wanted to know what made him tick, what brought him joy, what made him weep, what made him laugh. He wanted to know why he chose to be an auror when he could have done anything. He wanted to know his favorite song, his favorite book, his favorite meal. He wanted to know everything.

When the desire to grasp Potter by the hand and make him tell him everything became too strong, Draco stood up (rather abruptly) and made his way out of the bar, muttering "cigarette" to the table as an excuse.

Outside, he leaned against the wall and lit up his cigarette, exhaling shakily as it caught. The warm summer breeze did him good, helped to settle his racing mind. He took a long, slow drag and held the smoke in his lungs for a moment, relishing the way it burned a bit and the way his slow inhale helped him to calm further.

Fuck Potter, fuck this, he thought sullenly. This was all getting out of hand, it was too much, even for him.

"Terrible habit."

Draco's head snapped around to see Potter leaning his shoulder against the wall a few feet from Draco, watching him intently. "You should get louder shoes," Draco commented, blowing a stream of smoke from his lips, "or a bell," he added, picturing the kind you tie around a cat's neck.

Potter laughed, free and unfettered, and Draco basked in it like sunlight. "Can I join you?" Potter asked.

Draco forced himself to take another drag of his cigarette before answering, it wouldn't do to sound too eager. "I suppose," he finally said.

"Can I bum a cigarette off you?" Potter asked next.

His eyebrows rose, "You smoke?"

The other man smiled, the soft, secret one that exposed his dimples. "Occasionally. When the company is right."

Draco handed him a cigarette but he couldn't even fully appreciate the comment when the company is right because Potter leaned in close to light his off of the tip of Draco's. He hardly dared to move, he tried not to inhale deeply enough to be noticed, but he could smell the other man. He could smell his cologne; earthy and woody, he could smell Potter's shampoo; faintly like apples, and the hint of something underneath that he couldn't quite place but made his mouth water just the same.

After a moment, Potter drew back and Draco watched as he inhaled the smoke and held it in his lungs for a moment. He had so many questions, so many things he was dying to know, instead he said, "You're always quiet."

"Sorry?" Potter asked, turning his head to look at Draco as he rested his back against the wall.

"Your friends-"

"They're your friends, too," Potter interrupted.

And oh, he was trying to be kind, trying to tell Draco that they counted him as one of them, his heart fluttered uselessly. "Fine, our friends," he conceded, "They're always so loud. And you listen to them, you know everything about them. You've kept every detail stored away in that funny little brain of yours."

"I wouldn't say every detail," Potter protested before putting his cigarette between his lips once more. It shouldn't be attractive, Draco thought to himself.

"But you're always quiet," Draco pushed. "You listen to everyone, know things about everyone, but you never talk about yourself."

Potter looked away, staring up at a lamp post for a long moment. He took another drag of his cigarette and Draco thought for a moment that he wasn't going to answer. "Who really wants to listen to me?" he murmured on an exhale.

I do! Draco wanted to scream. Instead he huffed, "Everyone does."

Potter's lips tipped up in what was supposed to be an approximation of a grin but there was no joy in it, "No they don't. They'd want to listen if I wanted to tell them about a date I'd gone on, or if I had a family to talk about, or if I'd just gotten a new crup, or if I'd done something good or brave, if I'd updated my kitchen, or taken up painting." He brought his cigarette to his mouth once more and didn't look back at Draco.

Draco waited. He was good at this, good at waiting for people to talk. Silence didn't bother him. It made him a very good interrogator.

After a moment, Potter continued, "No one wants to hear about how I can't always sleep at night. No one wants to hear about the memories, and the flashbacks, and the nightmares. No one wants to listen to me talk about all of the ways that everything that happened in the war feels meaningless when we're just dealing with the same bullshit day in and day out at the ministry. No one wants to hear me talk about how when I look at Teddy all I can think about is how he looks just like Tonks and has a mischievous streak as wide as Remus'. Everyone's moved on," he said. "Everyone has gotten on with their lives and no one wants to hear about how I am just..." he trailed off searching for a word, "trapped. In my grief, in all of the ways that I failed. No one wants to know that it feels like I'll never be able to atone for all of the hurt, for all of the death and suffering-" he broke off, his voice choked, and Draco watched as a tear tracked silently down his cheek.

"I do," Draco whispered because he had to. Because Harry had been brave and vulnerable, and Draco owed him this much. "I do," he repeated.

Harry looked over at him, and his forest green eyes laid Draco bare. "Why?"

He lifted one shoulder, "because," he paused and swallowed, "because you're not alone in feeling so many of those things," he started. "Because you deserve to feel heard, to feel seen, to feel known. Because what you have to say matters."

"To who?"

And Draco recognized this question for what it was. He understood that Harry was not really asking who but why. He was asking if what he had to say mattered because he was "the Savior" or "the Chosen One" or did what he had to say matter because he was Harry, just Harry.

"To me," Draco said finally, knowing it was tipping his hand. "What you have to say matters to me. I want to know you, Potter. Harry."

Harry was quiet for a long moment, looking at Draco, searching him and Draco very much hoped he would find whatever he was looking for.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Harry said, "I want to know you, too, Draco."

Draco couldn't have stopped the grin that spread across his face if he'd tried, and he did try, so he settled for looking down at the ground to hide it.

"I like your smile," Harry said softly.

"Oh?" Draco replied.

Harry nodded, "I like a lot of things about you," he said, soft like a confession.

"I like a lot of things about you, too," Draco admitted.

"Would you maybe want to go and get some coffee?" Harry asked. "Or go somewhere quieter than here so we could talk?"

"I would like that very much," Draco replied. "There's a little muggle coffee shop a few blocks from my flat that stays open until 3:00am?" he offered.

Harry dropped the stub of his cigarette on the pavement and ground it out with his boot, "Lead the way," he said, gesturing to the sidewalk.

Draco nodded once, his stomach tumbling and bubbling like a cauldron set too hot, and he set off toward his flat.

He'd only taken a few steps when he felt Harry's fingers slide through his.

"Alright?" Harry asked softly.

Draco squeezed his fingers, "Better than," he replied, giving Harry a little smile. Grinning because he supposed, with Harry's hand in his, he had one less irrational thing to feel jealous of.

Day 3: Agility | Day 5:Possessiveness

#100 drarry drabbles in 100 days #my writing #drarry #drarry drabbles #day 4 #thanks for the word prompt anon!#send me a one word prompt and i'll add it to the list for these drarry ficlets #pining #aurors #jealousy #this one's a little long #sorry #it got away from me #<3 #drarry ficlets

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idkthisisjustforfanfic · 3 years

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that makes four.

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PART 4

Tristan had slapped his menu shut before you could even sit down. He’d been begging you to try a new place in Encino with him, you figured it was a good excuse to get Zoey out of the house and to let Maeve and CeCe duke it out in Shelli and Irv’s backyard instead of yours.

It was all work talk at first, he offered an update on a meeting you missed to drop off Maeve at a friend’s and Zoey sucked down a glass of wine promising to pump and dump before the night ended.

But now your plates were in front of you and you twirled spaghetti around your fork when she asked: “How’s your pool boy?” You stared up at her, unimpressed.

“He’s not my pool boy, and he’s fine.”

Tristan raised his eyebrows across the table. “Would you let Harry Styles be your pool boy?”

“Can we not talk about him like this, please?”

“Oh come on,” Tristan pulled a face. “If you’re not going to sleep with him at least let us fantasize.”

You must have twitched, a quick glance in Zoey’s direction or a quiver of your lip. Zoey leaned in and her voice was serious. “What was that?”

“What? Nothing.”

“What do you mean what was that?” Tristan asked.

“She made a weird face when you said that.”

“No I didn’t,” you defended. “I just don’t like talking about him in public, especially like this.”

“Bullshit,” Zoey laughed, leaned back in her chair. “What are you not telling us? Did you see him shirtless again?”

You let out a breath, wiped at your mouth and wondered if telling them would be the biggest mistake of your life. You couldn’t even get the words out before Zoey leaned in.

“You had sex with him?!” her eyes nearly bugged out of her head, Tristan’s fork clanked against his plate when his jaw dropped open.

You’d made it a whole week, almost. You pushed the thoughts down and brushed them under the metaphorical work rug. The body wash prototypes were in, you were booking models to do a photoshoot, video shoot, everything was getting lined up for the rollout in another few weeks. You didn’t have time to tell them about something silly and stupid and maybe a part of you didn’t want to fill them in because you were afraid they’d burst your bubble. It’ll never work out, what happens when his house is ready, he has a tour to go on.

“Be quiet,” you looked around and worried if anyone had overheard Tristan’s not-so-subtle name drop. “It’s not a big deal, okay? It’s not like it’s gonna be a regular thing.”

Tristan pulled his head back, offended by your words. “You had sex with him and you’re not going to make that a regular thing? Have you seen him?”

“Yes,” you made a face at Tristan. “I have seen him.”

“You are going to hit and quit Harry Styles?” Zoey leaned in and said his name much more quietly now.

“Well,” you dropped their gaze for a second, reluctant to be honest with them in fear of their reaction. “It’s happened once, and then we kissed once but CeCe came down, but she didn’t see anything. I’m just too old to be hooking up with a twenty-four year old.”

“Wait, okay, slow down. When did this happen?” Zoey asked.

“After my birthday dinner,” you shrugged. “We came home, had wine, the girls were out.”

“And when did you make out with him aside from that night?”

“The next night. And we didn’t make out, it was barely even open-mouthed.”

“Ew,” Tristan grimaced.

Zoey snapped to get your attention. “So twenty-four hours after you had sex, you kissed him?”

You made a face at her, unsure where she was going with it. You hadn’t been clocking or documenting your sexual encounters. “I don’t know, probably.”

“This is straight out of a trashy romance book written for middle aged women,” Tristan leaned back in his seat and took a pull from his glass of rosé. “I mean that in, like, a nice way.”

“Okay,” Zoey leaned forward. “So, nothing has happened since a week ago, then?”

“No,” you shook your head quickly. “Just those times. And I don’t think anything should happen again.”

They both groaned at the same time, Zoey’s shoulders sunk and she rolled her eyes. “You deserve to have sex with a hot guy.”

“I never said I didn’t.”

“Even if he’s younger than you.”

“I don’t want to traumatize my children.”

“Well you don’t have to have sex in front of them,” Tristan made a goofy face and you waved him off.

Zoey snorted out a laugh but you ignored their immaturity.

“I mean that having Harry here is already probably confusing for them, right? Their dad leaves, their grandpa dies, now we have some stranger in our house and he’s playing with them in the backyard and--”

“Being more of a dad to them than Luke ever was?”

Zoey’s words brought a sigh out from between your lips. “Exactly.”

“Having a positive male role model is good for them,” Tristan said.

“Sure,” you nodded. “But what about when Harry moves out? He’ll just be another man that will leave them. They’ll be super fucked up.”

Tristan reached forward and took your hand in his. “Hey--it’s more about the fact that they have you and they have other people who love them. Who cares if their idea of a family isn’t the stereotypic, heterosexual norm?”

“I know,” you relented. “I just don’t want them to be poorly adjusted.”

“Okay, that sounds like something an obnoxious prep school guidance counselor would say to you,” Zoey eyed you with skepticism.

You shrugged your shoulders. “It was Maeve’s teacher.”

“Okay, fuck that teacher!” Tristan nodded. “Your kids are adjusting, and that’s because of how good of a mom you are to them. And mommy deserves a pool boy.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, even if his words were worthy of an eye-roll. Zoey tried not to let wine drip from her nose after a snort escaped between sips.

“Not my pool boy!” You giggled.

“Which is good,” Tristan nodded, his tone completely serious. “That would be so cliché even Nora Roberts wouldn’t write it.”

Slumber parties always made you anxious. They were one of those things that made you question how on earth people trusted you to watch a group of children when sometimes, you still felt like one yourself.

Maeve’s 11th birthday party was no exception. Five other girls danced around your living room and CeCe sat at the counter while you iced cupcakes. Her little face was scrunched into a pout so intensely that it almost made you giggle.

“You alright?” You asked her, dish towel over your shoulder when she let out another sigh.

“Just wish I could play with them,” she held her palms towards the sky in exasperation, reaching for a container of sprinkles when you let out a laugh.

“You get to go for ice cream with Uncle Jeff, remember? You’re gonna go to the beach, too, I think.”

You’d been trying to bribe her all week: a new tutu, a new doll, anything she wanted just to make her give up and accept the fact that her older sister didn’t want her at her slumber party.

And you couldn’t blame either of them. Of course Maeve didn’t want her younger (and very loud, dramatic, and demanding) younger sister trailing behind all night. But, on the other hand, of course CeCe felt left out when she saw all of the older girls arrive with their sleeping bags and birthday gifts.

She sighed again, your conversation interrupted by a ringing from your cell phone on the counter beside her.

“Uncle Jeff?”

She was right, you reached for the phone and held it up with your shoulder, hoping the laughter from the living room wouldn’t travel it’s way into the speaker.

“Hi--are you here?”

“Y/N, I am so sorry to do this--”

“Oh god, Jeff, no!”

“I just got called into the office because one of my artists apparently just posted some stupid shit on the internet--isn’t there someone else who can hang out with CeCe? Where’s Tristan?”

“I don’t know where he is, but I doubt he’d be thrilled to play dress up or skip through a park.”

“Zoey?”

You could hear traffic through his line, his karma for backing out at the last minute was having to sit on the 405. “She has a ten-week-old infant, Jeffrey.”

“Well where’s Harry? Can’t he pitch in?”

You let out a groan, CeCe had taken to pouring sprinkles into her hand and lapping them up with her tongue.

Harry was upstairs, hiding away from the girl gang currently singing karaoke and sipping on juice boxes. He had the day off and had dipped out in the afternoon to meet a friend for lunch. You tried to mind your own business--he could come and go as he pleased and just because you had slept with him once didn’t give you the right to suddenly start asking questions about his plans.

But the universe pitied you, apparently, because right when you told Jeff you’d figure it out and hung up on him aggressively, Harry pranced down the stairs and headed for the fridge.

“How’s it going down here?” He reached for a juice box, crisp apple, and fumbled with the straw when he turned to face you.

“Everyone is alive and nothing is broken,” you scanned the counter, another batch of cupcakes still in the oven with 10 minutes to go.

With the straw now between his lips, he raised his eyebrows. “Bar’s that low, huh?”

“Well, your friend Jeffrey just bailed on watching CeCe and going for ice cream.”

She was blissfully unaware of the change of plans, still licking sprinkles out of her palm, but now swiveled around on the stool to watch the girls jump around in the other room.

“I can take her,” he shrugged nonchalantly, ran a hand through his hair when you stared at him for a second.

If traffic was Jeff’s karma, Harry must have been yours.

“Are you serious? You wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all,” he smiled. “CeCe? What do you say we do ice cream and pizza?”

She turned around at the sound of her name, her eyes lit up. “Pepperoni?” She asked.

“Of course,” Harry replied to her like it was a crazy question.

“Is Uncle Jeff coming?”

“He’s not,” You informed her, arms crossed over your chest. “You’re alright to go with Harry?”

You didn’t mean to make it awkward, but mom mode kicked in and you realized CeCe had never spent time alone with Harry except maybe in the backyard.

“Yeah!” She hopped down from the stool and grinned up at him. “Can I get a milkshake?”

Harry looked over to you and when you nodded, he held out his hand. “As many as you want.”

“That’s not what I said,” you called after him, watching as he led her over to the back door. He plucked his keys off the hook on the wall and smiled at you over his shoulder. “Please don’t be out late, text me when you get where you’re going!”

CeCe shouted a bye mommy!!!! before they disappeared into the driveway. A sudden raise in your pulse had you questioning what type of mother lets their 6-year-old get in the car with a pop star who’s probably hounded by paparazzi and maybe even doing cocaine on the weekends.

You picked up your phone and it rang four times before Zoey answered. “I need you to talk me off the ledge.”

“What ledge?”

The timer beeped and you gloved up to retrieve the rest of the cupcakes. “I’m apparently a psychopath because I just let Harry take CeCe for pizza and ice cream.”

You could tell she held back a laugh. “Why does that make you a psychopath?”

“Because he’s a stranger! What if he never comes back with her? What if he gets chased by paparazzi and CeCe is the next Princess Diana?!” The thought shuttered through your bones, a shiver down your spine when Zoey cleared her throat.

“Okay, so, as a mom, I totally get that. But I also think you’re freaking out too much.”

The cupcake tin rattled onto the granite. “How?!”

“He’s not a stranger, he’s been living with you guys for like, over a month now.”

You thought about it for a second. Two weeks turned into a few more, four weeks slipped by easily. What felt like it was going to be a blip on the radar now felt like a totally normal thing: dinners with him as the fourth seat and texts to him in the middle of the day asking if there was anything he was in the mood for.

“I just can’t believe I trust him enough to do that, I guess.”

“Y/N, he’s a good guy,” she laughed. “He likes your kids and he definitely likes you.”

“We’re not going there,” you said. “I have a house full of ten-year-olds and cupcakes to frost.”

“Okay, well, you’re not a psychopath. And there’s nothing wrong with having feelings for him.”

“Zoey! You are starting to sound like the psychopath!”

“I’m alright with that,” laughter through the phone when you told her you had to go. Love you, see you later, pinch Benny’s cheeks for me.

You were swept up in the excitement of the night. Your own pizza was delivered before 8pm, a movie turned on by 9pm. They decorated cupcakes at the dining room table and proceeded to eat more than they could fit in their tummies.

Maeve was in heaven, opened presents when you snapped pictures on your phone. Harry had texted to let you know they’d stop at Shelli and Irv’s before heading home. If CeCe came home in the middle of presents, she’d probably break down right there.

So when you heard the alarm signal a new entry, you hoped CeCe was too tired to argue with you about sleeping in her own room and not in Maeve’s with the rest of them. Your legs were folded beneath you on the couch, noise in the kitchen when Harry rounded the corner with CeCe asleep on his shoulder.

You stood up, eyebrows high when he smirked in your direction. “She’s out cold,” he laughed. “Fell right asleep on the way home.”

“It’s like a ten minute drive from their house,” you said, opening your arms to take her. “Sorry, here.”

“I can bring her up...just lead the way,” he motioned with his head for you to go first up the stairs. He followed you down the hall and to CeCe’s room, pink walls and a plush carpet underneath her twin-sized bed that still seemed too big for her.

He put her down when you flipped on a nightlight, watched when you tugged the duvet over her and kissed her on the forehead. You sighed when you stood up straight beside him, voice quiet. “I’m not waking her up to brush her teeth cause she’ll freak out and want to be included in the party. Am I a bad mom?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, smirked down at you quickly before looking back to her. “You’re a great mom.”

You elbowed him in the ribs playfully. “You have to say that.”

“I do?”

“I’m your landlord,” you laughed, leading him back into the hallway.

“I thought you were my friend?”

A sigh, the darkness a cover for your confusion and your fluttering heart beat. “Yeah, that too.”

He was quiet for a second, if it weren’t for the bedroom of kids down the hall you’d pull him into you despite better judgment. He stared down at you with a dimpled smile, but you took a step back.

“Thanks for taking her, and hanging out with her. You really didn’t have to.”

“I had fun,” he reassured you. “We got a pizza and ate in a park near Westwood Hills, then got ice cream, visited with Shelli and Irv,” he listed it off like it brought him as much joy as it did her.

“Hey, not to be weird or anything, but--how’s your house coming?”

He sensed the shift in the air too, but he didn’t know that it came from a place of fear. A question you had to ask: this was temporary, this wasn’t real, this was just a convenient set up and you couldn’t lose sight of that.

“Oh, yeah--I’m going over on Sunday to see it. Apparently there are still issues with the plumbing that have to be updated. They said it might be a few more weeks.”

“Okay, I just didn’t know.”

“Yeah, is that okay? I can try to find somewhere to stay if you need me out?”

“No,” you said it quickly. “I don’t need you to leave.”

“Okay,” he said, his eyes still on yours. He reached forward to brush a piece of hair behind your ear. “I like staying here with you guys.”

“...I like it too.”

“Mom?” Maeve’s head poked out of her bedroom. “Hayley spilled soda on the carpet!”

He stepped back from you quickly, like his reflexes were getting better each time. You laughed at his sudden movement, “coming!”

He smiled down at you and let out an exaggerated sigh once Maeve’s door was slammed shut and the music was back on, a magnetic pull between your chests that maybe he felt too. “Hayley, Hayley, Hayley.”

But again, a rush of uncertainty and self-doubt made you grateful for the interruption, your stomach weaving itself in knots when you stared at your ceiling fan and hoped that sleep would come.

Work picked up in the next week, Tristan was in your office most days with spreadsheets and graphs and to-do lists that made you feel like you needed a margarita at 2pm. On Wednesday Harry made dinner and CeCe had a meltdown when you forced her to take a bath.

Friday night entailed dinner at Shelli and Irv’s, the girls and Harry and Jeff too. You stood in the kitchen with a glass of wine in hand, Shelli watched as their chef sautéed something through steam. When Jeff pulled Harry away to show him a new guitar Irv had been gifted, you ignored the smile on Shelli’s face.

“How are things going?”

“Fine,” you said, casually and calm and cool. “How are you?”

“Y/N,” she smiled. “Does Jeffrey know?”

“Know what?”

“About you and Harry?”

“No,” you told her quickly. “There’s nothing to know, alright? We were drunk, it was not a big deal.”

“Alright,” she held up a hand, effectively resigning when she sipped her Pinot Grigio, a disappointed sigh before she asked: “How are the girls holding up?”

You sighed, unsure if she’d really drop it. You told her about Maeve’s birthday party and caught her up on the body wash debut. Deadlines were quickly approaching, the launch party was being scheduled and production was full steam ahead.

You almost thought you’d make it through the rest of the night without any drama--no more mention of Harry or the happenings between you. But eventually he and Jeff found their way back to the kitchen and you hoped that no one noticed how close Harry stood to you.

Jeff was in the middle of filling you and Shelli in on Harry’s album plans: they were wrapping up production and soon they’d announce the release date, his excitement cut off by a shout from the backyard.

“Mommy!” CeCe’s voice was shrill and desperate as it rang through the house. She let out a loud sob and when you looked up, you saw her clutching her elbow with a new grass stain on her shirt. She was fine, it was one of those moments where she thought the world was ending but everyone else knew getting knocked over by her sister wouldn’t kill her.

“She’s fine,” Maeve rolled her eyes, a quick look down to CeCe who’s eyes were already filled with tears.

“No I’m not!” she screamed back at her sister.

You looked to Shelli with an exasperated look, set your glass of wine down on the counter. Before you could make any movement, though, Harry’s hand hovered on the small of your back. “I’ll go, enjoy the wine. She’s fine.”

He was right, there was no question that CeCe would survive her scraped elbow and bruised ego. He moved towards the backyard and you were frozen in place when Jeff’s forehead wrinkled.

“What was that?” he asked, eyebrows strung together like tea lights once Harry was out of earshot.

“I don’t know--what do you mean?”

You looked over at Harry, now on the ground in front of CeCe who’s wails were much quieter. She wiped at her wet eyes, a little laugh escaped her lips when Harry brushed the grass off of her elbow and cracked a joke.

“Well, he seems pretty good with them,” Jeff leaned against the counter, the sliding door providing a perfect view as CeCe stood up and raced back towards Maeve.

“Yeah, I mean, he is.”

“He also touched your back in a funny way.”

Shelli raised her eyebrows and sipped at her wine again.

“And now my mom is making a weird face,” Jeff’s eyes narrowed when he looked at you. “Are you--is there, like, something going--”

“No,” you said quickly, a finger pointed at Shelli and another pointed at Jeff. “Do not say anything in front of the girls.”

Shelli stifled a laugh but managed to look incredibly innocent at the same time.

“Oh my god!” Jeff said this with a noise of shock, eyes wide when he looked between you and Shelli, then back out to the yard where Harry laughed with Irv. “Oh my god, and you knew?”

Shelli shrugged her shoulders, a don’t blame me look crossed her face when you took a swig of wine to calm the pounding of your heart.

Jeff had always been protective and caring and like a brother. Not in a weird way, not in the you can’t date my friends way. Just in the sense that he wanted to know who you were hooking up with and he’d been encouraging you relentlessly to stop picking assholes ever since you filed for divorce.

But this was different, this was a friend of his and a client of his. It was someone that his entire family knew and this was probably the worst choice of rebound.

“Please relax,” you said this with a look of warning in his direction. “I will explain to you what your lunatic mother is smirking about but you have about fifteen seconds to wipe the look of shock off your face before he comes back in here.”

“She’s fine,” Harry waved a hand once he was back in the kitchen. “And what look of shock are we wiping off of our faces?” The dimple was there again, the corner of his mouth pulled up and he scanned all three of you for any sort of information.

“Just that you are so good with the girls,” Jeff covered for you, a confident nod when he hoped Harry would believe him.

“That’s surprising to you?” Harry pulled his head back, an obvious look of mock offense. “I’m great with children. They love me.”

Maeve came in from the fading light, out of breath from running around with whatever ball they’d gotten their hands on. “Who loves you?”

“Kids,” Jeff replied for him.

“Oh,” Maeve said. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” You looked down at her, unsure if she was agreeing or just voicing that she understood.

She shrugged, plucked a chicken skewer from a dish in front of Shelli. “I mean, I like having him around.”

Harry was practically tickled pink. “Thank you, Maeve.” He turned to rub this in Jeff’s face. “See?”

“He cooks well, plays outside with us, definitely funnier than mom,” Maeve kept listing things off, pulling laughter from the rest of the crew.

“Maeve!” You whined. “I’m funny!”

“You’re like, sometimes funny.”

“Sometimes funny is better than never funny,” Harry nodded in your direction, an attempt to soften the blow.

CeCe had wandered in behind her sister, she picked at the scrape on her elbow until you called her attention. “CeCe--do you think mommy’s funny?”

“Mmmm,” the thought on it for a second, put her finger to her chin and scrunched up her nose. “Sort of.”

Jeff let out a big laugh at that, Harry tried to stifle one and you dismissed the jabs. “Okay, well, it’s not like anyone here is a comedian.”

“Harry’s funny,” CeCe said with a smile. “He reads books in silly voices.”

Jeff’s eyebrows shot up at that again, amused and surprised by the fact that Harry was in on the bedtime routine. But it was infrequent, sometimes CeCe would beg for more time outside or another thirty minutes of TV.

If the tears got aggressive or the tantrum became too much, she perked up pretty quickly if Harry offered to read with her. It was way more exciting than reading with you, Maeve had explained.

After showering Harry with compliments, the girls were excited to sit on Shelli and Irv’s patio. Pink lemonade and a delicious dinner, though neither of them would even so much as take a bit of your salad.

They ran around some more while you sipped wine, Jeff and Harry had been talked into a two versus two soccer match and Irv laughed his head off when Maeve actually scored on Jeff. Darkness came and CeCe crawled into your lap, eyelids getting heavy until you buckled her into the backseat.

You’d taken one car, CeCe’s booster seat was too clunky to move over to Harry’s so you drove and felt slightly embarrassed about the crayons and coloring books scattered on the floor of the backseat.

“Mom, can I have another sleepover this weekend?”

“With who?”

“All of the girls from last weekend.”

“Honey, no, that was a big party for your birthday.”

“I’m aware,” she shot back quickly. “But we all had so much fun and we wouldn’t be as loud as we were last time.”

“I said no, Maeve. You can do something with your friends if you want but we’re not doing another sleepover right now.”

You’d been hesitant about it in the first place. A group of ten and eleven-year-olds? With Harry in the house? It felt like a recipe for disaster and aside from a few excited stares when they were first dropped off, you all escaped relatively unscathed.

You worried at first about the whispers from other moms--she’s letting a twenty-four year-old live with her children?--but you soon realized that they were almost more excited about sneaking a glimpse of Harry than their daughters were.

“You’re so annoying,” she quipped from the back. “You never let me do anything fun.”

Harry’s lips twitched up in a tiny smirk, a sideways glance in your direction. You’d already told him how awkward it felt to discipline them with him right there, a glass of wine in the kitchen one night and he teased you about your frustrated mom voice.

“Maeve--don’t be rude. You just had a birthday party and now you want another, basically.”

“No, I want to have the same girls over. It’s not my birthday so it’s not a birthday party.”

A left turn into the driveway. “But you want me to order pizza and make cupcakes and you want to drink a bunch of soda again?”

“Yes.”

You pulled into the garage and cut the engine, turning to look at her. “Maeve, sweetie, I love you. But no.”

She let out a huff and shoved the door open, she typed in the entry code and slammed the door to the house before the rest of you could even climb out.

“The drama,” CeCe shook her head, tired steps towards the house.

“The drama is right,” you told her with a laugh. “Go wash up and I’ll come up in a few, okay?”

She scampered up the steps, you dropped your keys on the counter inside and then turned to look at him. “Do you have a second?”

He nodded, leaned on the counter. “What’s up?”

You didn't know if it was a good idea, but you'd spent enough morning drives to school lecturing about how honest is the best policy, so you figured you'd give it a shot.

“Uh, well--Jeff may or may not be suspicious about you and...me.”

Using the phrase made you nervous, like he’d laugh and think it was stupid. You and me.

“Oh,” he said, eyebrows arched. “Did you--why did that come up?”

“Well you went to handle my crying child, which is--you know--”

He laughed a little, “too boyfriendy of me?”

Your heartbeat picked up in pace, your face felt hot and it suddenly felt like he was watching you too closely.

“No--I don’t know--you touched my back and he just asked what was happening.”

He deflated at that, hung his head low for a second and then looked up. “Oh, I--uh--I’m really sorry, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“No!” You felt bad, that wasn’t the message you were trying to convey. If anything, you wanted to give him the out and the okay that he didn’t have to do this. He didn’t have to step into your family like some hero for you or your daughters. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, I just--I don’t know where you are at, I guess.”

“And now Jeff is asking questions,” he laughed, a nod like he knew where you were going with it.

There was no label necessary. It wasn’t that type of thing, you knew that. “That’s what you walked in on after CeCe got hurt.”

Another nod, like the puzzle pieces were fitting into place. “Right. Got it. Was he--how did he seem? Did you tell him that we--”

“He put it together,” you cut him off, again careful of the words used around the girls even though they were upstairs and--by the sound of it--bickering in the bathroom. “But he was fine with it. I just think we need to be careful, you know. The girls...and this is temporary, and--”

“Absolutely.”

“So, you know, just--”

“Yeah.”

An awkward silence. “I should go tuck them in.” You turned on your feet and headed for the stairs before he could reply, desperate to get out of the situation out of fear of having to find more words to string together in a messy jumble of emotions.

Another slammed door from Maeve when you reached the top of the stairs. You knocked twice. “Can I come in, please?”

“No!”

“Maeve,” you leaned against the doorframe. Harry came up and offered an awkward smile. “Please let me talk to you.”

“I’m not talking to you!” She shouted.

Harry came over and knocked. “Maeve? It’s Harry--can I come in?”

Silence for a second, her footsteps were audible on the wood floor. The door opened a crack, she peered out with narrowed eyes. “Fine--but not her.”

You looked over at Harry, unsure of his game plan but also fed up with the theatrics and the overreaction. He shrugged his shoulders half-apologetically, a smirk in your direction before he slipped into the room.

Did you stay and listen? Was it weird? What would he even say to her?

You decided against it, headed for your own bedroom and tugged on pajamas after you flicked on CeCe’s night light and kissed her goodnight. At least only one of them was being dramatic today.

Five minutes passed, then ten. You tried not to look at the clock and focused instead on a book Zoey had told you was a must read.

Eventually there was a knock on your door, Harry pushed it open and smiled. “Do you want some intel?”

“Duh,” you said. “Come in.”

He walked forward and sat on your bed, a sigh when he brought his eyes to yours again. “Well, she said you’re annoying again.”

“Of course.”

“She’s just grumpy. Said Hayley wanted to have a sleepover this weekend because it would be better at her house.”

“Ah,” you nodded. “Some 5th grade rivalry.”

“Classic, really.”

You laughed. “Was she okay talking to you?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, eyebrows low on his forehead. “Opened right up.”

“Well, we do know she likes you more.”

He rolled his eyes. “She just likes that I’m not you.”

“Feels like that’s the same thing.”

Quiet for a moment when he angled towards you, scanned your face with his eyes.

“I guess I’ll go say goodnight.”

“Oh, I tucked her in.”

Your mouth tugged into a smirk. “You what?”

“She said she didn’t want you to come in.”

“So you tucked her in?”

He let out a laugh, explained the process like it should have been obvious. “Yeah--pulled up the blanket. Patted her on the head. She said she brushed her teeth.”

You leaned back against the headboard, the same buzzing feeling in your chest took flight when he asked: “why is it so shocking to everyone that I’m good with them?”

It slipped out before you could think of the possible consequences. “Because you’re young.”

“I’m not that young.”

“And Luke was just--not like that. He was pretty disinterested after CeCe was born.” You hoped this was enough of a redirection.

“You’re really caught up on my age, aren’t you?”

“No.”

He raised his eyebrows and offered a look that said: bullshit. When he didn’t speak, you cracked a joke.

“Or...you are not hung up enough on how old I am.”

“Why should I care how old you are?”

“Cause you’ve had sex with me and you’re living in my house.”

“Both of those things I am aware of. And feel really good about both of them.”

You let out a laugh at his nonchalance, folded your arms over your chest when he stood up. “You’re something else.”

“I’m not,” you disagreed.

“I think you are,” he nodded, leaned closer to you and offered a challenging glare. His hair was messy, he’d been running around in the backyard with them at Shelli and Irv’s, a few glasses of wine in him seemed to loosen him right up to the point that he was ready to slide tackle your six-year-old.

He watched you for a second, almost like he was waiting for you to stop him. You didn’t, though, you wanted him to kiss you just as much as it looked like he wanted to close to the distance between your chests.

Instead of telling him you shouldn’t, instead of telling him that the girls were down the hall and this was risky, you pulled him on top of you, tugged him by the t-shirt until he flopped down on your bed with a laugh against your lips.

He lifted himself up after a clumsy moment, looked down at you and smirked.

“What?” You asked playfully.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever been so turned on by someone in my whole life.”

His words circled around you, pulled your body up to melt into his when his hand cupped your face. He laced his fingers through the hair along your neck, the warmth from his body made your pulse rise with each second.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this when they’re home?”

If the dimples on his cheeks weren’t enough, if the way his tattoos littered his skin wasn’t enough, if the look in his eyes right now on top of you was not enough to create a full-on mom fantasy in your head, the way he talked about your daughters was.

“Yeah,” you tugged him back against your mouth, felt the way your hips tilted against his without any thought. His hands moved to your wrists, holding them in place when he trailed his lips down your jaw, down your neck, pressing kisses in a line along your collarbone.

His hands were warm when they grazed your hips, connecting with skin beneath the fabric of your shirt. You grasped for the hem of his and tugged it over his head in a quick motion, eager to reconnect and feel his skin against yours.

He tasted like wine and smelled like summer, yanked your panties down to your ankles and used his fingers to pull quiet gasps from you like no one had ever before. He held onto your headboard and thrusted into you after you begged: please, please fuck me.

S’probably my favorite thing to do, he said.

The lights were long off and when your heart beats settled and you wiped sweat from your forehead, he laced his fingers between yours.

“Does Jeff want to kill me?”

“No,” you giggled, turned on your side to get a better look at him. The moon through the window illuminated his nose, his eyebrows, the specks of light green in his eyes as they devoured you. “But I’m sure you’ll get a talking to.”

“Should I not talk to him about it?”

You knew what he was asking, you knew he really meant what am I supposed to tell him? What does this mean?

You didn’t have an answer. You didn’t know what he should say or how you should address any of this, because at the end of the day you were a mom and a business owner and he was eight years your junior. He had an album to finish and tour and you knew how that worked.

You watched your dad’s busy lifestyle pull his marriage apart at the seams. Late nights, dinner parties, too much coke in the 80s before you were born and all of those signs pointed in one direction: this would never last.

It couldn’t last, nothing about the equation made sense. Harry + you = fling, rebound, a hook up or friends with benefits type situation that would eventually fade into a memory when he went on tour or when he got the call: your house is finished!

You didn’t have to answer him, though, the pattering of feet in the hallway as a little voice shouted mommy! had you shoving Harry out of bed and onto the floor with a thud before CeCe could push the double doors open.

“Mommy! I had a bad dream!”

“Hi, honey, oh, it’s okay,” you were upright in bed and welcoming her into your arms when Harry grimaced in the dark.

He mouthed a few swear words as you held CeCe, squishing her face into your shoulder to keep her eyes from landing on Harry. You gestured at him wildly with your free hand, ordering him to duck down and remain unseen.

“It was just a dream,” you told her, “you’re okay. Do you want me to walk you back to bed?”

“No,” she cried out quickly. “Can I sleep here?”

You hesitated, then nodded and looked at Harry in the dark. “Of course, yes, you can fall asleep here and then I’ll bring you back to your room.”

“Okay,” she said, the steadiness of her voice returning when she crawled out of your lap and to the spot where Harry had just been. She tugged at the comforters, pushed the pillow in different directions before she let her head rest atop it.

She let out a sigh, her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks and soon enough Harry poked his head up to look at you with wide eyes as you rubbed CeCe’s back.

You held up a finger to your mouth, gave him a threatening glare when he bit back a laugh. You rolled your eyes--it wasn’t funny. She almost walked in on the two of you and while she’d already endured some traumatic things this year, seeing her mom hooking up with the pop star from down the hall would be sure to take the cake.

When Harry caught your gaze again, you smirked, he giggled, clamped a hand over his mouth and watched you for a second.

“Be quiet!”

“You’re the one talking,” he laughed.

“Well she’s asleep now, but we can’t bring her back yet or she’ll wake up.”

“How long do we have to sit like this?”

“A while,” you told him with certainty. “This is called parenting.”

But he did, he sat on the floor on the side of the bed, watched you watch her and eventually, he picked her up from the mattress and followed you down the hall to her room. She softened into him, head on his shoulder and arms around his neck. The sight of it made you want to replay the earlier scene in your head over and over.

She didn’t stir, a few heavy sighs when you pulled the comforter back up to her shoulders, and once the door was shut behind you both, you smirked up at him.

“I think you should go back to your room.”

“Really? After all of that?”

“After almost getting caught by my six-year-old? Yes.”

He laughed and rolled his eyes playfully, crossed his arms over his chest. “Fine, but maybe we can do that again at some point and have it end differently.”

You nodded. “I think that sounds doable.”

He leaned forward, kissed you quickly, and then turned to head for his own room. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Harry.”

Harry came home from his house tour with good and bad news. The plumbing was fixed, which sped up their timeline, and yet the painters and interior decorator had gotten behind because of it, pushing the timeline out a few weeks.

You weren’t sure which part was good and which part was bad, because by now you were having trouble imagining what your house would feel like without him in it.

You got the news when he strolled in, athletic shorts and a baseball hat on his head when Jeff clapped him on the back. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Harry eyed him suspiciously, reached into the fridge for a juice box. “I live here…”

“Oh, I know you live here.”

“Hello, hi,” you waved at Jeff. “Please do not be weird.”

“That’s all he knows how to be,” Harry offered you a fake-apologetic look.

“That’s all he knows how to be,” Jeff mocked him. “Actually, I know how to be cool and not weird about the fact that my childhood best friend and my adult best friend-slash-artist are now, you know, involved.”

Your stomach did a somersault at his wording, a quick look in Harry’s direction, sure that he would deny the accusation or play it all down.

You found it hard to believe that Harry would be in support of labeling this as anything. Why on earth would a guy like him want to be tied to you with any sort of label or phrasing or word?

“Moving on,” Harry said with a nod. “Are we down to meet up with Tom and Sam tomorrow?”

“Yeah, and we have to do that phone call on Tuesday to go over tour dates.”

Maeve ran in then, a smile on her face when she looked up at Harry. “I have something to tell you.”

“Yeah?”

“I learned a new chord on the guitar. By myself.”

“You did?” He acted way more excited about it than he likely was.

Jeff smiled and then told Maeve: “If you learn enough chords maybe you can be his guitarist.”

“Really?!” She beamed.

“No,” you shook your head.

“Of course you would say that.”

“Maeve--you’re a kid, you can’t go on tour.”

“She’s right,” Harry said with a sweet smile, “You’re a bit too young for life on the road.”

“I’m eleven now, though!”

“I know! And very mature for eleven,” he complimented. “I’ll tell you what. You can for sure come visit and come back stage and maybe even bring a friend if your mother lets you.”

She looked to you quickly, excitement in her eyes when they all waited for your response. “Yeah--we can go at some point...see a show or something.”

“Hayley is going to die, oh my god!” She squealed with delight and then moved to sit at a stool beside Jeff.

He had half a sandwich on a plate, one he picked up on his way over for a boring Sunday afternoon of lounging by the pool. Maeve reached for a chip from the bag in front of him.

“By the way, mom, she invited me over Wednesday after school to work on a project, so can you bring me?”

“I have to bring CeCe to dance, sweetie.”

“Well I need you to bring me to the store to get supplies for this stupid poster-board thing we have to make! And Hayley’s mom said she had a question about Luna--something about a moisturizer or something.”

“I can take CeCe to dance,” Harry shrugged, almost like an onlooker in the room. “S’not a big a deal.”

“Are you sure?”

Jeff and Maeve crunched on chips between you, watching the exchange.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll just need to put her booster seat in my car.”

“And bring her a snack for after--she’s always cranky and hungry.”

He laughed, “I can manage that.”

“What would we do without you, Harry?” Maeve asked, a smile on her face.

Jeff put his chin in his hands, teasing. “Yeah, what would we do without you?”

“No one would get anywhere, people would seriously be missing out on my chicken tacos, and this house would be a lot less fun to live in.”

Maeve nodded in agreement, another chip stolen from Jeff. “True, true, and true.”

A few nights later it dawned on you that Maeve and Harry were as close as ever, spending evenings in your dad’s old office while Maeve tried to wrap her arms around a guitar long enough to strum a few chords.

CeCe didn’t seem to feel too left out, she was more than happy to be an audience for Maeve when she’d come running into the living room: Harry taught me a G chord!

On Tuesday night after school it was CeCe’s idea to go for pizza, she chirped about it in the backseat the entire way home, and after learning that the body wash production was behind schedule, you weren’t in the mood to cook.

You took Harry’s car--showed him how to strap the booster seat in and make sure it wouldn’t budge. He wore a hat and sunglasses which both girls found hilarious, but to you it was almost disheartening. What did it mean for him to be seen out with your family?

He sat beside CeCe and cut her pizza into tiny bites so it would cool off, Maeve sipped Mountain Dew from a straw and filled you in on the latest with Hayley. This week was going well, though Hayley said something annoying in the cafeteria.

It felt normal, not weird for him to be sitting across from you, his feet against yours beneath the table and a smirk in your direction every once in a while.

Both Tristan and Zoey had been dying to hear more details. It slipped out one day in the office that okay...maybe it wasn’t just a one time thing, and now the group chat you had with them was blowing up every day.

They were excited for you, rooting for your comeback and rebound and eager for you to just admit that there was something there. But you weren’t able to do that, especially not when everything in your heart wanted to.

By the time you’d all finished eating, he dipped out the back to pull the car around front. You pointed at Maeve and told her to watch CeCe while you went up to the counter to pay for the pizza.

The woman behind the register smiled when you approached. Long acrylic nails, wrinkles at the corner of her eyes made it obvious that she could have been your mother.

“We had one large plain and one small with pepperoni,” you told her.

“Oh, you’re all set, sweetie, your boyfriend paid on his way out.”

Your head pulled back in surprise. “Oh--he’s--we’re not,”

She let out a laugh at your hesitance. “He was just as taken back when I told him he had a beautiful family--said they're not his, though."

You forced a laugh, if only to match the humor in her voice when you turned on your heels to head back to your booth. The thoughts started spinning when Maeve and CeCe climbed into the back of Harry’s car.

He smiled at you when you slid in, patted you on the thigh before he turned around to make sure both girls were settled--Maeve clicked CeCe’s buckle into place and then he put the car into gear.

Sleeping with Harry was mostly meaningless, right? He was attractive and living in your house and clearly you both got something out of it. Convenient, easy, fun. Most of your brain had you convinced that there’d never be any more to it. There was no way that Harry would be interested in sticking around: two kids, a business to run. You didn’t exactly come with no strings attached.

And he corrected the woman too--not my kids, not my family, not my wife, not my anything. Had she settled on the next step down when she called him your boyfriend, or had he offered the label to avoid an awkward encounter?

It felt immature, your heart beating with urgency as you thought about it the whole way home, beads of sweat along your hairline and not from the warm weather. He sensed it, eyed you from behind his sunglasses when he parked in the driveway. Maeve and CeCe raced to the backyard, leaving the two of you alone.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah, all good,” you offered a small smile, the same response you gave to one of the girls if they caught you on a bad day.

He followed you inside, kept his eyes trained on you when you dropped your purse on the counter. “What?”

“You seem off.”

“I’m fine,” you lied again. What were you supposed to say? The woman behind the register at the pizza place is making me question the relationship we have and what it means?

You weren’t 17. You were 32. He was 24. All of these numbers swirled in your head when he took a few steps closer to you, eyes out the window quickly to make sure neither of the girls were watching you through the sliding doors.

He pushed a piece of hair behind your ear, lips turned down when he looked over your face. “You can talk to me, you know.”

“I know,” you caught his wrist and held on for a second, like if you let go he’d disappear and take everything between the two of you with him. You closed your eyes, knew better but still said: “the woman behind the counter called you my boyfriend.”

He let out a laugh, unaware that your words were actually a confession. “She called you my wife, said the girls were cute. I told her I couldn’t take credit.”

“Yeah,” you forced another smile.

“Is that--are you, did that bother you?”

“No,” you shook your head. “I just didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“I’m not,” he said, eyes still on you like he wasn’t quite sure where your head was at. He pressed a confusing kiss to your forehead but then said something about calling his sister. You checked work emails and night faded into morning like it always did, no matter how uncertain life was, you always had that.

The next afternoon you brought Maeve to Hayley’s, dropped her off with glue sticks and markers and a plethora of project supplies. A yoga class after that, had her home and with dinner on the stove by 6pm.

Eventually, CeCe burst through the door with a smile on her face. Her pink tutu was around her waist, her legs clad in light pink tights and her hair in a messy ponytail on top of her head. “I had the greatest time at ballet!”

You turned around in the kitchen, eager to hear about her day. “You did?”

“I did,” she nodded confidently. Harry came in the front door behind her, sunglasses on his face and CeCe’s unicorn backpack in hand. Maeve was sat at the counter with a pencil, growing angrier with fractions by the minute.

“Why’s that?”

“We danced to a fun song, and we played a fun game, and everyone loved Harry!”

Your eyebrows rose at that, eyes caught his when he lifted the sunglasses. “They did?”

“Moms, not the six-year-olds.”

This caught Maeve’s attention--she sounded almost disgusted. “Moms?”

“I guess ballet pick-up is typically a mom thing?”

You shrugged. “I mean--I don’t see a lot of dads there, so yeah.”

CeCe shimmied out of her tutu and then climbed up to a stool beside Maeve. Harry walked to hang her backpack on a hook by the backdoor, you questioned if it was even worth asking.

“Were they, like, hitting on you?”

“I mean, not really.”

“Not really?”

He walked over to the island and leaned on it, the dimple in his left cheek let you know he liked the hint of jealousy in your voice. “Maybe a little.”

Dinner simmered on the stove, evening sun brought a glow to the kitchen that made his eyes even more green than usual. When you didn’t reply he broke your gaze, let out a sigh and said: “I’m going to shower before dinner, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” you nodded quickly, embarrassed by the silliness of your question. Of course the moms were hitting on him, of course they were intrigued by his presence and of course they couldn’t help but say hi or even ask for a photo. It shouldn’t have surprised you in the slightest.

He was up the stairs and out of sight quickly, CeCe picked up an extra pencil of Maeve’s and started doodling on her agenda book. You pushed sautéed veggies around in a frying pan and pretended that all of this was normal.

“Hey mom?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you like Harry?”

You turned around quickly, Maeve’s eyes were inquisitive but not judgmental.

“Do I like Harry? Of course--he’s nice.”

“No, I mean do you like like Harry?”

CeCe didn’t seem too interested in your answer, she hummed to herself and kicked her feet back and forth. Maeve, though, waited patiently while you tried to piece together words that wouldn’t make the roof blow off of your house.

“Harry and I are friends, sweetie.”

“You’re not answering my question.”

You let out a forced laugh. “What is making you ask this?”

“You seemed jealous about the other moms.”

“I wasn’t jealous,” you defended. Were you really about to get into it with your eleven-year-old? Would you really defend yourself and make this the hill on which you'd die?

She watched you for a second, looked back down at the worksheet in front of her. “You seemed jealous.”

You were thankful for the fact that she wasn’t making any eye contact now. You let out a sigh and decided that not responding was your best option. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, had it been that obvious? Was she old enough to pick up on the undertones of your relationship?

You turned back to the stove, watched the vegetables sizzle in the pan as your mind started to cave in on itself. All of this was getting out of control, right? First the woman yesterday and the dizziness that overtook you when she said the word boyfriend. Now Maeve sitting at the counter with a curiosity in her that you couldn’t really blame her for.

The doorbell rang, CeCe’s head popped up in excitement. “Who is that?!”

“I don’t know,” you said. She hopped off her stool and took off the door as you followed behind her. You hadn’t planned on a visit from Jeff, maybe Tristan needed last minute approval on a product.

But when CeCe yanked the door open with both hands and an excited smile on her face, you didn’t expect to see Luke, hands in his pockets and eyebrows raised high.

“Daddy!”

“Hi sweetie,” he knelt down on one knee, wrapped his arms around her when Maeve made a noise of excitement before rushing over. She crashed into him, pushing her way into their hug.

“What are you doing here?” she asked excitedly.

“I wanted to visit, I was in the neighborhood,” he said with a shrug, eyes glancing up to you.

It was bullshit, he’d always been good at talking his way out of things or coming up with an explanation, smile sweet and words even sweeter. He backed away from them when they let go, stood back up and smiled at you, a quick nod in greeting.

“How’ve you been?”

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