#so we’re all in agreement that when she says ‘fully at ease with who she is’ she’s talking about Lena being a lesbian

[azrielhours]

Homesick / Lovesick

Azriel x Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Part 2 of Pawn for Pawn but can be read alone

Synopsis: Az takes reader on a date to see Velaris. She’s his mate but hasn’t figured it out. He knew but wants to let her figure it out and accept him on her own. She feels homesickness. 

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

I woke up early with the remnants of a thought from the night before, a pleasant feeling on the tip of my tongue. I focused on the sweet feeling as I grew more awake. Feyre and I escaped… We’re in the Night Court… I sold my… Oh.

Azriel. 

The memories of the night before came to me at once. A mysterious Shadowsinger revealing a cheekier, sweeter side of himself in the privacy of the library, returning my jewelry to me, promising to take me to see Velaris today. My heart skipped a beat, and the rush of excitement that passed through me woke me fully up. I got up and began getting ready, not knowing what to expect at the hands of such an enigmatic male. I couldn’t deny that there was something about him; besides his obvious good looks, I felt drawn to him in such a natural way. Like whatever lies perpendicular to homesickness.

Upon entering the kitchen, I found Cassian, who grinned warmly at me. “Morning.” I returned the greeting and sat across from him. I couldn’t help but wonder where Azriel was, when I’d bump into him, how he’d act outside the confines of seclusion. “I hope you’re having an easy time adjusting to the Night Court.”

“It’s not bad, actually. I did feel a bit out of place at the beginning, but not so much anymore.” Cassian’s smile shifted to something above my head, and I turned to find Azriel in the doorway. I felt my cheeks flush at the sight of him, a sudden wave of nerves overcoming me. But when I looked at him, all I received was a comforting, kind smile. I smiled back and turned back to my food, finding Cassian watching.  

“What made you feel less out of place?” Cassian asked. I knew Azriel’s attention was on me as he joined us at the table, and I wondered if he knew that it was him that made me feel that way. I deigned to give a quick glance to where he sat adjacent to me and found him looking at his food, but a small smile graced his lips.

“Just… you’ve all been very welcoming,” I said at last, trying to maintain some discretion, though Cassian’s eyes glinted somewhat mischievously, and then his eyes flitted to the jewelry on my hand.

“I’m happy to hear that.”

~  

After we ate, I found myself in the living room. Mor and Feyre had joined us, and I happily watched the group interact. I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment that Azriel hadn’t mentioned anything about the date he asked me on today, not even hinting to me that we had that conversation. I doubted he’d changed his mind already, but maybe I misinterpreted his intention. I don’t have any claim on him, I suppose, just this awareness surrounding him whenever he was near, like a tether inside that– “y/n.”

I looked up, surprised to hear my name. I found everyone’s eyes on me. I hadn’t realized how lost in thought I’d been. “Sorry, what was that?”

Mor smiled at me. “We were asking if you’d like to go to Rita’s with us tonight.” I cursed myself for immediately glancing in Azriel’s direction, wondering how I’d say yes to Mor if he was going to take me to the city. Azriel was watching me, his expression neutral, but I knew he knew where my thoughts went.

“Is… everyone going?” I felt a pang in my chest.

“All of us except Azriel. He said he has other plans.” Oh. There was a pleasant sensation growing in my chest. I glanced over at him again, though maybe that wasn’t the wisest move in a room of trained eyes, but I didn’t care. I found Azriel still watching me, this time with an expectant glimmer in his eyes.

“Let me get back to you on that plan, Mor.” I smiled, feeling much more relieved than I should have. Mor nodded in agreement, and soon afterwards, the group dispersed.

~

I continued to sit where I was, reflecting on the sense of ease I felt around this group, how I felt like I could let my guard down. I felt a weight beside me on the couch and turned to find Azriel. I smiled happily, and he returned a smile. “Hello, Azriel.”

“Hello, y/n.” I turned the ring on my finger around once, a reflex of anxiety I had. Azriel’s eyes followed the movement. “Nice jewelry you got there.”

I laughed. “Thank you. All of it is brand new, believe it or not. Gifts I got just last night.”

He gave a crooked smile. “Is that so.” I nodded, eyes wide in feigned earnestness. He chuckled. “Are you ready for today?”

“Yes. Just tell me what to wear.”

He took in my knee-length sundress. “You want to change?”

“Well, I don’t know if we’re flying, and I don’t know if this is appropriate…” I trailed off.  

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Azriel, I wouldn’t want to flash the city.”

“You want me to tell you to take off your dress? Usually the clothes come off after dinner, not before.” He deadpanned, watching my reaction, and my jaw dropped. I covered my gaping mouth with a hand and let myself laugh, and he joined me. There was that coy humour of his again. “Don’t worry about your dress. I won’t let anything happen.” His smile was more sincere now, and I believed him.

“When do we leave?” I asked.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

I felt my heart skip a beat in excitement, and I clasped my hands together to calm down. “I’m ready.”

He got up off the couch and extended his hand, which I took and allowed him to help me up. To my surprise, he didn’t release my hand after I was on my feet, instead he gently led me to the door, pulling me with him, and I allowed it. Once we were outside, he turned to me. I realized we are indeed flying, and I felt a sudden rush of nerves again, patting down my clammy hands on my dress to smooth it down. “It’s okay, I promise I’ll go slow.”

I snapped my head to look at him and found a small, cheeky smile on his face again. Whether his innuendo was intended to ease my nerves or not, it worked. I rolled my eyes but then smiled and nodded. He opened his arms, but let me approach him in my own time. I took a deep breath and stepped into his open arms. He placed his left arm around my waist, and I felt myself grow nervous for an entirely different reason. He seemed to be aware of this because he kept his gaze focused forward instead of on me. I put my arms around his neck and braced myself as he bent down gently to put his right arm under my knees, making sure to tuck the end of my sundress in between. He lifted me into his arms with alarming ease. I looked at his face with blatant astonishment, and he gave me a reassuring smile and winked. From this close, I could see the details of his face more clearly. His deep, hazel eyes, long dark lashes, his sharp jaw… I snapped out of my trance, embarrassed to have been so shamelessly staring, but when I looked over his shoulder, I gasped; we were already beginning to ascend. He had taken off the ground so gently that I didn’t even feel it. Azriel felt my shock. “It’s okay, I got you.” I could feel the timbre and rumble of his deep voice in his chest. I just nodded, not trusting myself to speak. He continued his incredibly controlled ascension, and I marvelled at the strength it must take to fly in such a careful manner.

“It’s okay, Az. You don’t have to go so slow,” I reassured him.

He tsked. “There you go again rushing things when we haven’t even made it to dinner.” I laughed again, and he smiled, pleased. Once he heard me laugh, he began flying faster, taking us up higher into the sky. I kept my grasp around his neck firm. And I couldn’t deny that it was partially for my enjoyment as well as to feel safe as we flew. Once we reached a height Azriel was satisfied with, he began gliding horizontally, which allowed me to see all of Velaris. I couldn’t help but gasp at the sight.

“Oh, it’s beautiful, Az.” The awe could be heard in my voice.

“Wait till you see it at night,” he said back. We continued our flight, and I absolutely fell in love with the city. I lost track of time, not knowing how long we spent in the sky, but Azriel finally began to descend in a smooth glide downwards, until we landed in the town square. He released me gently, keeping his hold around my waist until I steadied myself, and I kept a hand on his shoulder as I felt a bit dizzy. I apologized for taking so long, but he shook his head, smiling patiently. “Take your time.” I finally let go of his shoulder, but he stood there for a beat longer. I reached for his hand, slipping mine into his tentatively, gauging his reaction. A faint blush coloured his cheeks, but he squeezed my hand more firmly into his, and he began leading the way. Somehow, holding his hand felt more intimate than flying in his arms, but it felt right. He led me down the town square, pointing out the significant buildings, landmarks, and the different quadrants of the city.

He takes me to what he described as the Artists’ Quarter, where there was music playing in the street. Some people were even dancing. He led me to a building that I soon realized was a small museum. When we entered, I found myself surrounded by beautiful antique sculptures, art, and geographical findings. Best of all, there were ancient artifacts. There were coins, Azriel told me, from the ancient civilizations. My eyes widened at their beauty, and I turned to see Azriel smiling at me as I took in the history. “Your jewelry reminded me of these old coins when I got it all back for you from the pawnshop, so I thought you’d appreciate these.” He smiled, putting his hands in his pocket, and I felt awed for an entirely different reason. I looked down to hide how touched I was by the gesture, how considerate he has been and continues to be with me. When I looked up, he was still watching me, and I felt that familiar pang in my chest, that pulling feeling I’ve had in my chest since arriving at this court. Like… nostalgia, or... I’ll have to look into it. Being here, I realized, with Azriel giving me such a thoughtful gift, it only made that feeling grow inside. I absentmindedly touched my chest, Azriel tracking the movement again, and something like bliss flashed briefly across his features. He reached for my wrist, gently pulling my hand off my chest and into his own hand. “Let’s go, there’s one more place I want to take you.”

~

I didn’t realize how long we had been in the museum until we walked out to find the sun setting. Azriel took me to dinner as our last stop. We ate in comfortable silence for a while before he spoke. “So, you’re fairly close to Feyre, yes?” I nodded. “Has she ever told you what it felt like when her… mating bond became known to her?”

I thought about it. “She said it was a snap, but then again, it wasn’t clear to her because of the bargain she had with Rhys.” He looked thoughtfully at me, and I sensed the gears turning in his head. “Why?”

“Nothing.” He smiled once more. “If you had a mate, hypothetically speaking, would you like to be made aware of that?”

“Hmm… I don’t know, maybe not before I got to know them. I’d like to know that the person I end up with is with me because they truly like me, not just because we’re mated. Does that make sense?”

Azriel nodded. “Yes. I’d want to be accepted for who I am as well.” I took him in at that moment. Though I’ve only known him a handful of days, he has shown me nothing but kindness, patience, and attentiveness. Any female would be lucky to be with him.

“Don’t worry Azriel. You seem very easy to love.” My heart rate increased at the admission, not knowing if it was wise to make myself vulnerable like this before him, but also feeling like this vulnerability is being pulled out of me and into him. Like a lifeline. Azriel bows his head a bit. Did I really manage to make the Shadowsinger flustered? I giggled to myself. He looked back at me, eyes shining with something wistful. It reminded me of the feeling inside myself. I shook my head, deciding to change the subject. “Did you tell Cassian about the situation with the pawned jewelry?” I recalled him looking at my rings this morning.

Azriel chuckled. “Nooo.” The sarcasm dripped from his tone, brows raised mockingly, making me laugh.

“What else did you tell him?”

Azriel looks at me with that same look from before, smiling. “Don’t worry about it.”

~

After dinner, we walked a bit more in the city until Azriel turned to me and I knew it was time to fly home. Being in Azriel’s arms gave me such a warm feeling in my chest that had nothing to do with his body heat. I ended up being lulled to sleep, but I could have sworn I felt like a rope was tying me to him, making me feel safe enough to drift off despite being hundreds of feet in the air. In my half-asleep state, I reached for that rope, gave it a tug, and it felt something answer the pull with a sensation of calm at the other end.

Just like our takeoff, I didn’t feel us land. “Y/n,” I heard Azriel say gently. Felt it rumble in his chest. I lifted my head from his shoulder to look at him and found ourselves on the balcony at the House of Wind. I took a deep breath to mentally prepare for untangling myself from his safe, warm embrace, but he didn’t let me go. He began walking through the house, still carrying me until we reached my bedroom.

Maybe it was that warmth in my chest or my sleepy state that blurred the edges of my better judgement, but before Azriel could put me down at my door, I said, “don’t go.” He paused, evidently shocked, and I felt my cheeks burn. “Sorry,” I said sheepishly. I moved one of my legs from his hold to signal for him to release me, which he did gently but kept me within the reach of his embrace. I didn’t step away either, craning my neck to look at his face in the dim light.

“I don’t want to rush you,” he said, but his voice had a rougher edge to it since the last time he spoke.

“C’mon, Az. You said the dress comes off after dinner.” I smiled as his eyes widened and his mouth parted in slight shock, but then he laughed. “I’m just kidding.” He shook his head, but still didn’t step back. Neither did I. We continued to look at each other until the air grew tangible between us with palpable tension. He looked at me with a raw, devouring look. Whatever this was between us, it felt dangerous, but addictive. I didn’t even know what I wanted, because it didn’t feel like lust that was driving this longing. It was still that feeling inside… that homesickness. But that still didn’t make any sense. I needed to clear my head. I finally stepped back from our proximity, and he also stepped back. I felt myself reach to twist my ring between my fingers again. He watched me do it, reached forward and covered my hand with his, raised it to his mouth, and placed a small kiss on it, easing my nerves. I smiled at him, feeling the courage to get up on my toes and reached forward to kiss his cheek. He leaned down to give me access to his cheek. I forced myself to pull away, and he took that as his cue to leave. “Thank you, Azriel.” I didn’t need to try to convey my gratitude, it shone through in my gruffer voice. He smiled deeply, dipped his head, and turned to leave.

I entered my room, exhaling and leaning against the door. That was intense. I wasn’t usually so taken by anyone, wasn’t usually so vulnerable. The events of the day washed over me, and I let myself relish in the sweetness of the feelings with my eyes closed. The flying, the coin artifacts, his kindness, his… his eyes. Cauldron. How safe I felt in his arms, that feeling of being tied to him.

I opened my eyes, gasping lightly.

That was… the sensation I’d been feeling. I reached up to my chest, as if I would indeed find a real rope there. Suddenly aware of the previously subconscious sensation, I – there it was. 

That tether. That sense of homesickness. The ache… Oh my god.

I gave it a pull. I felt it tug. I felt it, felt –

Azriel.  

The mating bond. 

“He’s my mate,” I breathed in utter disbelief. I covered my mouth with both my hands, allowing myself to be wholly, unrestrictedly shocked. He knew, I realized. That’s why he asked me. And what did he say? He asked me if I would want to be made aware of it. And he respected my wishes to be courted first. I felt my heart break with… adoration. Holy hell. 

I took a deep breath. Tugged that bond again, harder this time. I felt it before I heard it… his approach. He didn’t knock on the door. I realized he was waiting to see if I even knew I was pulling him here. That was the final straw for me.

I opened the door and found him standing there. I gazed up at him, knowing I probably looked like a deer with the unabashed shock on my face, but I didn’t care.

“You’re my mate,” I breathed again. I watch his face, he studies me with careful anticipation as he gauges my reaction. His fingers twitch but he doesn’t reach forward. I smile at him, and his shoulders visibly sag in relief, then he smiles back, eyes crinkling.

“My mate,” I repeat.

“Yes,” exhales. How long had he known? I reach for his hand, and he lets me take it. I pull him into my room, and he doesn’t resist this time. We don’t break eye contact. With him suddenly in my space, I realize I didn’t know what I wanted to do next.

“You knew,” I said.

He dips his head once in affirmation. “Yes,” he repeats. Still husky.

“The homesickness…” I trail off.

“Homesickness?” he asks.

I nod. “I’ve felt this ache, like homesickness since I got here, but not for a place…” for him. “Azriel, how does one accept the mating bond?”

He continued to pierce my gaze with his stare before he finally said, “I have to eat food of your making.”

“Hmm… I never got to repay you for my jewelry,” I smiled, easing a bit of that tension.

Azriel smiled back. “I guess you’ll have to make it up to me by making me dinner.” I felt that tether between us glow. “I know you said you’d want to get to know your mate beforehand.”

I kept smiling. “We’ll figure it out. Figure it all out.” Together.

We’d talk about it in the morning. Follow this tether to where it leads us.

For now, I walked to him and wrapped my arms around his torso, burying my face in his chest. Right there, right on the end of my tether.

I was home.

~~~~~

@lportes-22 @kat-nee  @juulle987 :) as requested

#azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #az #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #rhys #feyre #cassian #nesta #a court of thorns and roses #azriel imagine #azriel x you #azriel fluff

[apparitionism]

Tabled 4

And on we go, @barbarawar , as I continue to try your patience with this incremental approach to telling a @b-and-w-holiday-gift-exchange story about coffees and consequences. Where we last left our duo: Helena had proposed adjourning to a hotel room so as to avoid continuing to attract attention for disorderly behavior (i.e., launching coffees at each other, followed by raised voices) at O’Hare Airport—that transitory place where Myka had intended to have a final coffee with Helena before telling her goodbye and returning to the Warehouse to face a future she doesn’t really want. Part 1, part 2, and part 3 explained the tables, books, beverages, and lies that led to this point.

Tabled 4

The trek to the hotel is arduous. No conversation. Myka appreciates the tacit agreement she and Helena seem to have made to wait for the space, but she’s bowed by what it’s added: multiple steamer trunks of existential weight, all of them balanced on her head, her shoulders, such that it’s labor for her even to turn her head in Helena’s direction.

Nevertheless they navigate, side by side, destination mutual. That’s weight too.

All Myka is physically carrying is her laptop case; she’d told herself, “I can work on reports on the plane. Or prepare remarks.” Instead she’d sat on the plane. It might as well have crashed; she was already braced for impact. Braced, yet again. For all the impacts.

Helena is similarly unencumbered, but without even a work-pretense: only a slim little bag, its strap a delicate suggestion of metallic braid that adorns her shoulder. She offers the sleekest of presentations, with even her stained sweater somehow managing to speak to her apparent surety that whatever the thoughts of those regarding her might be, they’ll redound to her benefit.

Myka, on the other hand, wants to hold her case to her sullied chest, or better yet fold herself entirely over, to hide this... evidence. She hates giving anyone grounds for a negative inference, and the uncomplimentary list of things any given observer might take the smirch as evidence of is infinite.

She herself has felt that “redound to my benefit” certainty only in the rarest of circumstances. Once or twice, though, it’s happened when Helena was the one regarding her, giving Myka a fully confident sense of I know you like everything you see, and even better, you like it just the way I want it to be liked. Transporting, when it happened.

Helena chooses that moment to turn ever so slightly, meeting Myka’s eyes ever so briefly... as if in appreciative echo of the past.

It prompts Myka to think on a different kind of evidence: what she and Helena provide, as they pace beside each other through the airport. It could oh so easily support the idea that they’re traveling together, which in turn leads to the infinitely better idea that they might be traveling together.

Indulge, she tells herself, and the granting of permission... it shifts the weight.

Who are we, this me, this Helena, traveling together... traveling together. She starts simple: We’re Warehouse agents on a retrieval. But of course that’s too easy. Okay, instead, we’re... dealers in rare books? Better... And we’re heading to an auction... wait, no, we’re heading home (home together), home from an auction, one that yielded a rare first edition of... oh, let’s say The Invisible Man... and the auctioneer unfortunately made a slightly incorrect statement about its original serialization... one that Helena felt she had to counter emphatically... leading to the first fistfight ever seen at that auction house...

Myka can easily picture the self-satisfied snarl-smile Helena would have worn as she decked the ill-informed auctioneer. The ease with which she can conjure such a moment... that, paradoxically, is yet more weight.

Even so, she warms further to the story, folding in their coffee stains: On this first leg of our trip home (home together), there was dramatic, beverage-service-disrupting turbulence... but we got through it with only wardrobe-related disasters... which is to say, we protected the first edition...

The fantasy looms real enough for Myka to put her hand against her case, casting an impossible wish for confirmation that it holds a precious book.

When her wish isn’t granted, she’s nonsensically crestfallen. Her indulgence now seems yet another blunder, as foretold by that other... book. (She can’t get all the way to “precious,” not this minute, an aspersion of omission for which she’s pretty sure she’ll be expected to apologize.)

Remember that future, Myka tells herself. She pronounces those words in her head, and she’s half tempted to say them to Helena, too, despite the fact that she’d have no idea what it’s about. Though she might ask what it’s about... and Myka can’t land on whether she would hate or thrill to offering an explanation. I used an artifact, she might begin. Because of you. She might go on: And I lied about it. Also because of you.

That might get her a snarl-smile of her own. Maybe even a fistfight.

In the end she stays silent; it’s the theme of this hotel-destined journey. She should rather have focused on Helena, with no imaginings; should rather have just looked, no matter how great the weight. What would observers have concluded then?

You just told yourself a story about that.

As they near the hotel desk, Helena says, “Allow me,” and Myka... does. Because, for good or ill, Helena is the driver. If she were not, Myka would be at a gate, sitting and waiting for a flight, her mission nearing completion. Instead, she’s standing a good distance away from Helena in a hotel lobby, calling Steve, saying, “I’m pretty sure I’m missing my plane.”

The response in her ear: “Because...?”

“Do you really have to ask?”

“Really? No.”

“Good. But if anybody else asks—”

“And when you say ‘anybody else.’”

Myka sighs. “I mean protect me.”

“By saying what?”

“I’m stuck in an airport.”

“You believe that,” Steve says, with a little wondering hitch.

“Oh how I do.” She laughs, just a half-huff. “Oh how I’d prefer not to.”

She hears, “Is that Myka? Where is she?” It’s Claudia (not Pete, thank god), in the background.

“Stuck in an airport,” Steve says.

“Weather?” Claudia asks, now close to the phone.

“Storms,” Myka tells her.

“That sucks,” Claudia pronounces. “See you when the climate gods dispensate some dispensation.”

After a pause—presumably waiting till Claudia leaves earshot—Steve says, “You’re getting really good at this.”

“This?”

“Letting language slip. To do the dirty work.”

“Good at this,” Myka echoes, belatedly. She knows it now as cause for despair. She’s painfully aware that the work is dirty, but... she’s developing a facility. That’s what’s wrong. “I’ll try to get worse.”

“After the storms?”

“During,” she says, because speaking in private should—at the very least and very last, it should—entail saying what she really means. Not letting anything slip.

Should. Which doesn’t, dirty or otherwise, mean “will.”

“Take care,” Steve says.

“I don’t know how,” Myka concludes. It’s a weird way to end a phone call, but Steve seems to know it’s right.

Helena has decorously waited to approach, but now her seemingly eager “Shall we?”, key card in hand, is a painful parody of the invitation Myka has dreamed of for years. If it had happened in those earlier years, it could have been an invitation to everything. Now it’s just an invitation to... blunders. And their contribution to an end.

The existential weight lowers again onto Myka—countdown-tragic now—as she waits out the rise of the elevator (its mirrored walls too harsh) and the walk through the corridor (its canned lights too artificial). It freights even the too-sunny chirp of the key card’s success, as Helena inserts it into the door.

As Helena pushes the door’s handle down in further proof of that success, she looks over her shoulder at Myka with something like delight—but is it delight at this circumstance, this promise of new privacy? Or is it another instance of her generalized thrill at an encounter with technology? That she might not yet be so familiar with as to be jaded by this aspect of modernity is... something very like heartwarming. But also painful, because how many Helena-delighted-by-the-new episodes has Myka been deprived of witnessing? How many episodes of anything and everything Helena-related has Myka been deprived of witnessing?

And what is the consequence of letting herself know that as deprivation? And, more, feeling that deprivation as pain?

Helena pushes the door open and strides across the threshold, but Myka hesitates, hoping for... something. Purpose? All that comes to her is a maxim: never go in without knowing how you’ll get out.

Where Helena is concerned, Myka has never known how she’ll get out. Ridiculous to think she could start now.

She goes in.

The quiet: that’s what strikes her first. The closing of the door behind her is a muted snick; after it, there is no noise at all.

Then she apprehends scent: antiseptic overlain with some ruse of spice, as if “clean” couldn’t possibly be enough to justify the undoubtedly absurdly high price of the room. Of course it probably couldn’t; nevertheless Helena had paid it. Myka wants to resent that, but she’s the one who acquiesced to that “allow me.”

The scrimmed light from the window allows her eyes to discern only the barest detail, but they’re drawn immediately to... of course. A table. Metallically, shinily, obviously, a table. It’s small and round, seemingly innocuous (too low to sit at), but Myka skirts it. She sets her laptop case on the less-threatening desk.

Helena lays her own bag on the bed. The bed, which Myka had intended to ignore. Then she turns, eyes still eagerly alight, to face deskside-anchored Myka.

The look sends Myka back to ideas of I can’t do this, or maybe what she means is I can’t feel this, but that isn’t right either, for what she feels isn’t singular; instead it’s I can’t feel these, these battering, battling threads of sensation she can’t untangle. “Why are we here,” she says, groping, suddenly dull, feeling the air numb around her.

“For speaking,” Helena says. Over there. By the bed. “Freely. As you agreed we should.”

But where is the freedom? The table reminds Myka of constraint, and even the room’s privacy—this new, behind-a-locked-door privacy—chains her, making her question every movement, lest it speak as she doesn’t intend. Or does intend but shouldn’t intend. Paralysis. “What do you want to say?” she asks.

Whatever Helena wants to say, she wants to accompany it with a head-toss, followed by a contemptuous exhale. Quite a performance, at the conclusion of which she snorts and juts her hands at Myka. “At the very least, more words about the unbelievability of your putative romantic choices.” Contempt coats it all.

“You don’t know what’s in my heart,” Myka says. She means it as a dismissive judgment—of Helena’s continuing to insist that she knows how Myka feels or doesn’t feel about Pete (although of course, Myka has to concede privately, she does know)—but, more broadly, of Helena’s not bothering herself to know how Myka has felt about anything. Not for a very long time.

“I’m aware,” Helena says, and then, as if she’s heard Myka’s more-broad thoughts, she says, “I’m very aware.” Then she stops—another of those curiosity-piquing pauses—leaving Myka to wonder what’s next. What is: “So tell me,” she says. Soft. Sincere.

“Why?” Myka asks. “What will it change?”

“For one thing, you will have said it. Rather than simply felt it.”

“Said it to you, you mean,” she accuses. Right: something might change for Helena.

“Ah. You’ve spoken of this to others. Perhaps your sister? And have you found that unburdening to be helpful?”

That’s soft and sincere too, but internally, Myka snarls, with no smile, You can keep your therapy questions. I have all the Abigail I can handle on that front. She wouldn’t answer such a question no matter who asked it, and she is neither ready nor willing to explain Steve—Steve and what he’s meant. Instead, she says, “This room has a coffeemaker,” despite not knowing that for sure. But it must. “I’m going to find it and... use it.” A neutral action, that’s what she needs.

“I’ll watch you,” Helena says.

So much for neutral.

But turning her back on Helena... surprisingly, it loosens her. The gaze is on her, and she feels it, but she doesn’t have to meet it. She finds the coffeemaker on the bureau and begins the process: water, cups, coffee packets, filter basket. Of course it isn’t neutral, would never have been, but being occupied, putting something in that space between—standing and looking was never going to get them anywhere, given that it never did in the past—it lightens the atmosphere. It’s a purpose. It’s a purpose against which Myka can, and thus determines to, slide a question of her own.

“So you had this realization that there was ‘someone else’,” Myka says, making the quotation marks as clear as she vocally can, “and you broke up with him?”

“Essentially,” Helena says.

To her... credit?... it’s not an objection to the topic shift. Or to the quotation marks. But it’s also profoundly not informative. “What, seriously”—Myka had nearly made the mistake of saying “honestly”—“is that supposed to mean?” She turns around, away from her coffee task; the machine’s begun to noise, anyway, so it doesn’t need her.

Helena’s aspect doesn’t indicate that the renewed eye contact is meaningful. She says, “That is supposed to mean you have identified the essence of what occurred.”

More details are clearly not forthcoming. Back up. Ask something else. “Why did you go to that place at all? Why go there and make yourself so... small?”

The very idea is tragic—even worse, pathetic. Helena’s slight dip of head, signaling at least partial agreement, offers pathos too. “Safety,” she says. “Mrs. Frederic said I’d be safe there.”

“I could have kept you safe. Why didn’t she say that?” Myka hears herself getting louder now, angry at all the conversations, decisions, interactions that were kept from her, that she had a right to be part of, all these clandestine resolutions to problems that she and Helena deserved to solve together.

“She had other plans for you,” is the reason Helena gives. Pathos there too. It’s awful.

“What about my plans for me?” Myka cries, and it must have been audible all over the hotel, this nearest she’s ever come to a barbaric yawp, and it’s about all of it: Mrs. Frederic and Pete and expectations and everyone thinking they know and no one knowing, not even Helena, who might have been the only one who could have really known but went away, was taken away, and now Myka is going to have to push her away and this is exactly why she turned to the book: to steal back the tatters of her own capacity, one small bit of augury at a time.

“You work for the Warehouse,” Helena says.

It’s a bald truth. It’s why little auguries are all Myka has. But it splits her open, too, for it tells nothing at all about why Helena did what she did, and she shouts a new accusation into the yawning gap: “You don’t!” And another: “Since when do you bend the knee to authority?”

Helena straightens her spine. “Since authority rendered me incorporeal and suggested I would be returned to that state if I didn’t do as I was told.” She lowers her chin, giving that spine one more bit of extension. “I was disinclined to stop living.”

It breaks Myka. No, it re-breaks her. She knows she should say things, including “but you redeemed yourself” and “so what’s different now,” but all she can in fact do is reach out a hand and touch Helena.

Maybe that’s what Helena intended, but even if it is...

Between any two people, it might be nothing: a simple right hand resting upon a left shoulder, followed by a run down that left arm, to the left elbow, then wrist, brushing against a left hand’s fingers, falling away.

But it’s Myka’s right hand. It’s Helena’s left shoulder. Helena’s arm. Helena’s elbow, wrist, fingers.

They’re behind a locked door.

TBC

#bering and wells #Warehouse 13 #fanfic #Tabled #B&W holiday gift exchange #part 4 #barbarawar #I have to confess: #I love the word 'fistfight' #but don't worry #Myka and Helena won't resort to physical violence #other than the coffee-weaponization kind #because even if you remove bodies from the equation #they have no trouble doing violence to each other #or maybe it's that they do have trouble #and removing bodies from the equation makes it worse #which is not to say that adding bodies back in necessarily makes it better

[riyalizations]

I cannot believe we got not one, but TWO new Katie McGrath interviews with some of the gayest shit I’ve read.

#so we’re all in agreement that when she says ‘fully at ease with who she is’ she’s talking about Lena being a lesbian #dear god I can’t #also I don’t think Katie would use the words ‘lose their minds’ that lightly #all this to say I can’t wait to suffer #supercorp #lena luthor #kara danvers #supergirl #katie mcgrath

[helloalycia]

lose you [one] // leigh shaw

summary: after Leigh ignores your existence for a few days, you decide to force her out of her room and spend the afternoon with you, but it ends up leading to something more

warning/s: mentions of grief and implied death

author's note: this was requested and I finally got around to watching Sorry For Your Loss (which is so good by the way! i'm so mad it got cancelled), so here is a little Leigh Shaw imagine! It's a three-parter so stay tuned :)

part two | part three | masterlist | wattpad

"Where is she?"

Jules, her sister, pointed up at the ceiling, referring to upstairs, as she finished chewing on a grape. "What did she do now?"

I refrained from rolling my eyes at the reminder that Leigh had been ignoring my calls and texts for the past few days.

"Nothing," I mumbled before leaving her in the kitchen to eat her fruit.

I'd been friends with Leigh long enough to invite myself into her house and let myself head upstairs. When I reached her room, I knocked on the door and tried to hide my impatience with a sigh.

"Jules, I'm not in the mood," her voice grumbled from the other side.

Ever since losing her husband a year ago, Leigh's personality had become more... erratic, if you will. Understanding her mood changes and temper tantrums was a skill in itself, but I was determined to stick by her if it meant she'd be okay. Like now, for example.

"It's not Jules," I called back. She didn't reply, so I said, "You better have clothes on, I'm coming in."

Without wasting a second, I opened the door and found Leigh laying on her bed, thankfully dressed, and looking up at the ceiling. Her room was slightly messy and the curtains were half open, like she'd been in the same position for the past few days. I wouldn't have put it past her.

When I entered, her eyes glanced my way before she continued to stare a hole into the ceiling. I breathed out, unsure what to say.

"Don't look at me like that," she said quietly.

"I wouldn't have to if you'd replied to any of my texts," I retorted, though my tone was anything but harsh.

"I've been busy," she mumbled.

My eyes raked the room once again. "Yeah, I can see that... it's two in the afternoon."

Suddenly, she sat up and narrowed her eyes at me. "Look, if I wanted a lecture, I'd have let Jules in here. If you've not got anything nice to say, you know where the door is."

Rolling my eyes, I ignored her flippant attitude and went to the set of chest drawers pushed against her wall. I rifled through them, earning complaints from behind me, before pulling out some clothes and throwing them at her.

"We're going out," I told her sternly, crossing my arms.

She removed the clothes from her face and gave me a disapproving look. "No, we're not."

"I'm not leaving unless you come with me, so..."

She could be a bitch when she wanted to be, but she knew I could be, too. Our stubbornness was our weakness, since neither of us could back down in a fight. Nowadays, it usually ended with me giving in because I pitied her, but not today. Today I was adamant on cheering her up.

"Fine," she said through a sigh of defeat. "Just get out already."

I smiled victoriously. "See you downstairs."

After waiting for Leigh to get ready and out of the pyjamas I was sure she'd lived in for three days straight, we got in my car and I began to drive.

"Where are we going?" she asked, glancing over at me with mild annoyance, like she'd rather be anywhere but here.

"Not sure yet," I admitted, ignoring the disbelief on her face.

"Then why did you make me come?!" she asked, her attention fully on me now.

I shrugged. "Thought you could use the break." Shoulders relaxing, I added, "I also thought we could spend some time together since we haven't in a while."

I didn't want to say it was because of the fact that she'd been avoiding me, or at least been making no effort to talk to me. I also didn't want to make her feel bad because of those facts, but she seemed to take it personally anyway, resorting to a good old-fashioned Leigh-specialty eye roll.

"I'm not sorry for grieving," she said knowingly, getting comfortable in her seat and looking out the window.

I gripped the steering wheel harder and tried not to let her words make a difference. She had a bad habit of twisting my words or making things seem worse than they were and I knew it was a coping mechanism of hers. She only tried to cope when things got too much, which only confirmed my reason for taking her out today.

"You don't have to be," was all I said, before focusing back on my driving.

—

Halfway through our drive to nowhere, I pulled the roof of the car down so we could feel the wind in our hair and the sun on our backs, since it was a nice day. I also put the radio on, hoping it would ease the tension on Leigh's end of the car.

Pop songs blared through the speakers, some that I knew and some that I didn't. Of course, the ones that I knew I immediately sang along to. Leigh definitely didn't like that, opting to roll her eyes and pretend I wasn't there. But eventually, I knew she wouldn't be able to resist and she began to hum along, making me smile.

On the road that led to nowhere, I noticed a public footpath leading into the forest and decided to take a pit stop, utilising the car park nearby. When Leigh noticed what I was doing, she straightened up and looked around with confusion.

"What are you doing?" she asked, eyes falling to mine.

I tried not to laugh. "We, my friend, are going on a walk."

"You're kidding."

"I'm really not."

I felt her eyes on me as I parked up and turned the engine off. Unbuckling my seatbelt, I opened my car door and met her judgemental gaze, noticing she wasn’t making a move to leave.

"You coming?" I asked with a raised brow.

"Do I have a choice?"

"Of course," I said, not quite stepping out the car but hanging my feet out. "You can either come with me on a nice walk through the forest, or you can stay here and roast to death in the car because of the heat whilst you wait for me."

"Or I can steal your keys and drive home without you," she offered as a third option, smiling bitterly.

Grin on my lips, I hummed in agreement. "That's also an option, yes."

Letting out a sigh through gritted teeth, she wordlessly got out the car and I smiled with satisfaction, knowing she'd give in. Getting out the car, I stretched my arms before locking the doors and joining Leigh's side. She sulked like a child, but allowed me to lead her to the trail ahead.

It was a lovely day out, warm but with a slight breeze that cooled our skin as we walked. Sunlight peeked through the tall trees, reflecting off the greenery and filling me with a sense of awe as I appreciated mother nature up close and personal.

Glancing over at Leigh, I noticed how she fell into step with me but remained closed off. Hugging herself, she focused on the path ahead and stayed quiet, jaw clenched and lips pursed. Streams of light that shone through the trees shone onto her, spotlighting her and making her hair look golden, blinding but in the best way.

I'd never admit it aloud, but I always loved the way her green eyes sparkled in the light, and even when she turned to glare at me, I felt my heart rate speeding up at how beautiful she looked.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," she said dryly.

Not letting her mood get me down, I pulled out my phone and snapped a photo, making her smack my hand away. I laughed and, for her sake, pretended I didn't see the ghost of a smile on her lips.

"That's one for the books," I teased, putting my phone away.

"It's fine, I have plenty of you," she mumbled.

I smiled to myself but said nothing. We continued to walk through the woods, following the trail and myself remembering every turn we made so we could make it back the right way. There were a few other people out, but we passed them with a quick hello (from myself since Leigh was still sulking) and moved on.

Twenty minutes into our peaceful walk, I noticed a wooden footbridge up ahead, possibly built over a stream. Excited, I stopped and looked to Leigh who noticed I wasn't beside her and turned around to see what was up.

"Why d'you stop?" she asked, pulling her hair up into a ponytail impatiently.

I smiled eagerly. "I'll race you to the bridge."

"Y/N," she breathed out, raising her eyebrows. "We're not kids."

I walked forward slowly, smile fading into a frown. "Fine. Sorry for trying to liven things up."

She rolled her eyes and continued to walk beside me in silence. But my pace picked up, as did hers, and I exchanged glances with her, realising she was walking faster than usual. Before I knew it, we were breaking into a run, trying to reach the bridge before each other.

"Thought you didn't wanna race!" I said between heavy breaths.

"I don't!" she called back, her pace picking up as she managed to get ahead.

I sucked up a breath and pushed on, tailing her as she reached the bridge. When she got there, she began to cheer and point at me obnoxiously.

"Ha! I win!" she said with a grin, as I slowed down and bent over to catch my breath. "Sucks to be you."

Her laughter filled my ears as I straightened up, hands on my hips. She looked so happy, even if it was momentarily, and I watched her with adoration, not even caring that I'd lost. She was stunning when she was smiling and I could only hope she'd do it more as time went on.

"I let you win," I joked, waving my hand dismissively.

"Sure you did," she played along, leaning on the bridge's railing as she watched me with amusement.

"You literally exercise for a living," I told her with a shrug. "S'not fair."

"Whatever," she said with an eye roll, smile still dancing on her lips as she turned around to look over the bridge. A gasp escaped her lips as she said, "Wow."

I joined her side, holding the railing to see what had taken her breath away. Then I saw it. A stream ran beneath us and was framed by some beautiful flowers and tall, transcending trees whose branches curled outwards and were covered in green leaves. The sun's rays filtered down through the leaves and made the water look like it was sparkling, rippling with every rock it pushed past.

"Looks like something out of a children's book," I said with disbelief, smile of amazement on my lips.

Leigh hummed in agreement and I glanced at her, seeing a similar expression on her face. Glad she was in a better mood, I looked back to the picturesque view before us and leaned on the railing, merely appreciating the sight.

"This is nice," Leigh said quietly, after a moment.

I tilted my head to get a look at her. She was already looking my way, leaning on her arms and meeting my gaze.

"Thanks, I put it all together myself," I said playfully, making her nudge me with her elbow as I chuckled.

"I'm serious," she said, before looking ahead again. "It is."

Knowing that was her way of saying thank you without actually saying it, I nodded in agreement. "It is."

We admired the sight for a few more minutes before deciding to head back, taking our time as we followed the route I remembered. Leigh was a little less tense this time, seeming to relax into her surroundings a little more. She even had a smile on her face at times which was all I wanted.

"You hungry?" I asked when we reached the car park.

"I guess I could eat," she said with a shrug.

"Well, according to this sign," I said, pointing to a board beside the start of the footpath, "there's a café a little way down the road. Wanna go?"

She motioned for me to go first. "After you."

Green eyes shone bright with amusement as she looked to me with a suppressed smile. Losing my words, surprisingly startled by her gaze, I cleared my throat and took the lead, making her laugh.

I sometimes wondered if she knew the effect she had on me or if she just liked catching me off guard. Maybe it was both.

—

After having a late lunch, or early dinner depending on how you saw it, Leigh and I got back in my car and I began to drive us back to hers. It was quiet, just like our meal was and just like she'd been for most of the afternoon. I was fine with that, I guess, but I felt like she was holding something in.

Turning off the radio, I earned her attention.

"You should try screaming," I suggested casually.

"Excuse me?"

I felt her eyes boring into me with confusion as I got comfortable in my seat. Looking in the rear view mirror, I noticed there were no cars behind us or in front of us. The road was empty as I drove on the edge of one of the many beautiful cliff-sides in Los Angeles.

"Scream," I repeated to Leigh. "It'll feel good. Watch."

Wasting no time, I began to scream at the top of my lungs, being sure to stay focused on driving at the same time. My voice flew into the air as my car sped down the road, leaving me feeling liberated.

"Geez, a warning would be nice!" Leigh snapped, uncovering her ears when I was done.

I laughed. "I did say to scream." Giving her a sideways glance, I added, "Come on. Try it with me. On the count of three."

"This is stupid," she decided, leaning back into her seat and pushing her hair from her eyes as the wind blew it about.

"No, it's not," I said with certainty. "Three."

"Y/N."

"Two."

"Stop it."

"One."

"Y/N!"

I looked to her with a grin before screaming at the top of my lungs. When I didn't hear her join in, I stopped and pouted.

"You gonna leave me hanging?" I asked, looking between her and the road. "C'mon. Last chance."

"Y/N–"

"Three. Two. One."

This time, to my surprise, she joined in and we screamed together, our voices echoing into the hills around us. It was exciting, thrilling and freeing all at once. Once we were out of breath, we stopped and caught it back.

"Felt good, right?" I asked with a grin.

She began to laugh, quietly, slowly, then loudly and hysterically, making me join in. Though, when my laughter faded, I realised she was still laughing, and then I looked over to her and saw tears streaming down her cheeks. With concern, I reached over to comfort her, but stopped when I realised it was weird to do, even for a friend.

"Leigh, I'm sorry, I–"

"No, no, it's fine, I'm fine," she cut me off, wide smile still on her lips as she wiped away her tears with the sleeve of her jumper. "They're happy tears. Y/N. They're happy tears."

I furrowed my brows with confusion, eyes flickering between the road and Leigh. "Are you– are you sure? Because it's okay if–"

"I'm okay," she promised, resting a hand on my arm. "I am. And the screaming helped. You were right."

I almost made a joke about how I'm always right, but my concern for her, despite the smile she wore, was still present. Teary eyes watched me with reassurance and she squeezed my arm gently before getting comfortable in her seat.

"Okay, if you're sure," I said, still uncertain.

We continued driving when I noticed the sun setting and decided to stop the car off to the side of the road. The hills were the perfect place to watch the sunset since it had a perfect view of the city whilst leaving enough space to see the sky in all its glory.

"Now why are we stopping?" she asked, though her voice didn't carry the same venom it did earlier.

"Isn't it obvious?" I asked rhetorically, getting out the car and motioning to the view before us. "We're gonna watch the sun set!"

I thought she'd put up a fight or complain like she had with everything I'd been recommending today, but to my ease, she simply got out the car and joined me. The two of us leaned against the car door as we watched the sun dipping into the horizon, casting an orange-pink hue across the skyline and the few clouds in the sky. It always reminded me of a watercolour painting, like someone had dipped their paintbrush in water and dragged it across the sky.

"Thank you for today," Leigh said, pulling me from my admiration. "I actually had a really nice time. As in, the part I spent with you and not the part where I moped around in bed."

I gave her a half smile. "Anytime, Leigh."

She winced, shaking her head in disagreement. "No, I mean it, Y/N. For everything, not just this." She paused, and I tried to ignore the way the last of the sun's rays made her skin glow and eyes shine brighter than anything I'd ever seen. "You've been here for me, even a year later when other people would have left."

"That's what friends are for," I reminded her, and her eyes flickered to mine, holding a million questions that I couldn't decipher.

"I'm not the best company," she admitted.

"You're not that bad," I said dismissively.

"I wouldn't want to be around me," she continued.

"Who likes to be left alone with themselves anyway?" I said jokingly, making her sigh discontentedly. Smile fading, I lost my humour for the moment. "You're not as bad as you think. And even if you were, I'd still stick around."

She locked her jaw, looking down to her shoes silently. I crossed my arms and looked back to the sun, it lowering into the horizon further and further as each second passed.

"I didn't mean to force today onto you," I said hesitantly. "I just– you didn't reply to any of my messages and I was worried."

She scratched the back of her head awkwardly. "I haven't really checked my phone."

"I figured." Finger playing with my shirt mindlessly, I said, "I got a promotion at work. That's–" I cleared my throat. "That was why I called you the first time."

She looked up, eyes wide with apology. "Oh my God. Y/N, I'm so sorry! That's amazing! I should have–"

"It's okay," I reassured her with a small smile, dropping my arms to my side. "I just wanted to tell you because, well... I just wanted to tell you."

I wanted to tell her because that's what we did. We told each other everything. She was the first person that came to mind when anything good happened in my life. Of course, with everything going on, it was hard to tell her the good stuff when she was going through so much.

"I'm so proud of you," she said softly, and I looked her way when she grabbed my hand. "You worked really hard for this promotion and I knew you'd get it."

A smile crept onto my lips at her words. "Thank you, Leigh. You know that means a lot."

She nodded, mirroring my expression, before squeezing my hand gently. I wanted to look away after a few seconds, but she was still holding my gaze, eyes piercing mine as if conflicted. I suddenly became hyper-aware of her hand in mine, fingers gently tugging mine subconsciously, and the way her shoulder brushed against mine, the contact so natural I almost didn't realise it was there.

When I finally decided to break our staring contest, deciding I'd never know what was going on in her head, she took me by surprise and pulled me forward before kissing me. Her lips pressed to mine quickly, hand letting go and resting on the back of my neck dominantly.

It happened so quickly, my mind working overtime as it tried to decipher Leigh's soft lips against mine, the shiver that ran down my spine from her hand on my neck, the tenderness of her cheek as it came into contact with my nose. I didn't even get chance to react, to kiss her back like I wanted, as she pulled away in an instant.

Seemingly startled by her own actions, she let go of my neck and took a step back. I already missed the contact, my lips feeling cold as she pulled away. I, myself, was taken aback, still frozen with shock at the fact that she'd just kissed me.

"Th– that was a friendly kiss, obviously," she stuttered out, eyes avoiding mine.

I licked my lips awkwardly. "Yeah, obviously..."

"To say thanks," she added unconvincingly. "Y'know?"

"Mhm."

Neither of us looked up as we stood apart trying to understand what happened. Why did she do that? Did she actually want to? Was she caught up in the moment or was she just seeking comfort? I wasn't sure. But I knew I wished I had reacted quicker than I had.

"We should go home," she mumbled.

I nodded in agreement. "Right. Yeah. Home."

The two of us got back into my car, neither of us saying anything as I drove her back to her place. The radio played quietly in the background, filling the uncomfortable silence that formed between us, and I hated that a good day had ended on a bad note.

Pulling up outside her house, I chewed on the inside of my mouth with discomfort. She cleared her throat and still didn't look my way as she spoke.

"Thanks again for today," she said, before opening the door. "I'll, er, see you whenever."

I nodded, eyes focused on the steering wheel. "See you. I, erm–" I wanted to say something about the kiss, but she clearly didn't and I didn't want to piss her off. So, I said, "Tell Jules and your mum I said hi."

"Will do..."

With that, she got out the car and headed to her front door, leaving me sat there for a moment as I tried to comprehend the situation I was now in.

Why did Leigh have to be so confusing?

#leigh shaw x reader #leigh shaw imagine #leigh shaw x you #leigh shaw #sorry for your loss imagine #sorry for your loss #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen imagine #elizabeth olsen x reader

[enthusiasticharry]

the one where you and harry are keeping a secret from your brother, who happens to hate harry’s guts. 

author’s note : hello everyone! i'm back with another fic, one that i can't believe i wrote so quickly to say the least. this is part of @harrystylescherry​‘s playlist challenge. i chose drive on by miss charlotte clark because it is an amazing song, and i can only hope that i’ve don't it justice.  

word count : 13.9k of a lot of angst, smut and only a tiny bit of fluff. i really don't know what happened to me. 

please talk to me about drive on here. let me know what you think :) 

But if we parted I'd be half-hearted So I'll leave the light on

As you were getting ready that evening, you knew that you were going to have to try your hardest to not show that you were absolutely dreading what was about to happen. The light sounds of Fleetwood Mac filled your room as you finished making sure that you looked okay. It seemed as though the longer that you looked at yourself in the mirror, the more you started to doubt that you actually looked okay. 

You tilted your head to the side as you looked in the mirror, running your eyes up and down your own body as if to check that you’re at least presentable. Your outfit wasn’t too out of the ordinary, just a pair of black, flared trousers and a white knitted jumper because you knew that it is going to be quite chilly and you are going to be outside for a large portion of the evening and you make sure to pair it with some white trainers, ones that match so you start to feel a little more put together. Even though it certainly wasn’t the most out there outfit, it was okay and you had to keep reminding yourself of that. 

Walking down the stairs, you could hear the mumbling of your brother, Isaac, in the kitchen, along with someone else’s voice that you immediately recognise as Daisy, your best friend. You’re not exactly surprised at their discussion, because whenever they’re alone in a room together you know that it doesn’t usually end up with them discussing sunshine and rainbows. The more you think about it, the more you struggle to determine which one out of the two of them is more stubborn, because they both are just as stubborn as each other. 

“Baby sis!” You try not to roll your eyes at your brother’s greeting, “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” 

“We’re coming with you.” You respond, walking forward so that you can greet your friend with a hug. You knew that it was going to be a long shot of him letting you come with him, but if Daisy was too you knew that he wouldn’t be able to say no, and that’s why you go with her every single time. It’s how you’re cheated the system of having an overprotective brother. 

“I thought you were going to Daisy’s for a sleepover?” He questions, and you nod your head. 

“I am.” You smile, “But after.” 

You walk over to grab yourself a bottle of water out of the fridge because you know that if you look at him in the eyes he’ll be staring at you in a way that you could do without. You know that he’s only saying the things that he is because he’s protective of you, but you also have to keep reminding him that it wasn’t the first time that you had gone out and been to a race with him, and it certainly wasn’t going to be the last. 

Chugging down a bit of the water, Daisy extends her arm out to you and you pass the bottle to her, watching as she takes a sip before passing it back to you so that you can put the cap on. Even though you have been to the races before, that certainly didn’t meant that every time you did go you found yourself being more and more nervous for what you’re going to witness. It’s dangerous, and sometimes you feel a though you’re the only one out of all of them to notice that. 

“Every fucking time.” Isaac shakes his head and you smile. 

“Thank you.” You had an obnoxious grin on your face as you say the words, and you know it. 

“Yeah, well. . .” He shakes his head, “Just come on and let’s get in the fucking car.” 

The first time you went to one of the races, you remember not being able to focus on anything other than the fact that anyone could get really injured, or even die, at any second if they’re not careful. Maybe you were just too overly cautious, and you couldn’t ever find yourself focusing on the thrill and excitement of it all because you were too worried that someone was going to get hurt. It was even worse when the person you were worried about was someone you cared about like you did your brother. 

“One of these days you will take me without putting up a fight.” You say, following him towards his car, “I don’t know when it will be but I can feel it.” 

He looks at you as he opens his door, “That’s never going to happen. For one, I hate that you even come to where the races are held, more so that you stand and watch them.” 

You shrug and climb in the car, “Mum and Dad don’t know that you race, and if they’re not able to be there and worry about your safety then I am going to be the one to do so. Can’t have you risking your life and at least not one of us being there.”

He shakes his head and tuts, “I’m not risking my life. It’s just competitive driving.” 

You furrow your eyebrows and you hear Daisy chuckle, “You’re delusional.” 

“Says you.” 

The two of you hear a tut coming from the back seat, “I know the two of you are siblings, and this is just what I have to deal with, but sometimes I really do wonder whether or not you’re children hidden in fully grown bodies.” 

“I’m not the child.” Isaac’s quick to say, “If anything, you’re the child!” 

“Really?” You shake your head, “You must know that you saying that basically proving everything! You’re the child, Isaac.”

“God, I wish I’d never said anything.” Daisy shakes her head and you cross your arms over your chest, pouting slightly but trying not to make it too obvious because you really were trying to be the adult in this situation. 

You and Isaac weren’t the closest of siblings, to say the least. The two of you never did much together and if you did it wasn’t voluntarily, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t care for each other because you certainly did. The two of you would protect each other without any hesitation, in any situation because that was the type of siblings that you were. That didn’t mean that you were friends, though, because you didn’t have to be. You loved each other, and you cared for each other, but you didn’t have to be friends with each other and you were both okay with that. It was was though you both had an unspoken agreement that you’d look out for each other in this way. 

Turning onto the ever so familiar field, you know that it isn’t going to be long before your heart rate is going to feel as though it is beating out of your chest and your palms are going to start to get sweaty. You believed that you brother was good at what he did, he wouldn’t have gotten as far as he had if he didn’t, but even if someone is as good and as talented as he was that didn’t meant that accidents don’t happen. 

There isn’t just that fact that your brother is good at the sport to contend with, but also the fact that some people who do it may not be as good as he is, and they could be reckless, and in drag racing, recklessness gets people in trouble. You knew that, he knew that and everyone who participated and watched knew that. You knew that there were some people there just to watch the race whilst getting drunk with their friends and you didn’t mind that because that was what it was there to do, but you couldn’t stand the people who were there in hopes that something did go wrong, just to see a little bit of action in their boring day to day lives. 

You supposed that a part of your worry for these games were because you weren’t just worried about your brother, you were worried about somebody else also. Isaac stopped the car so that you and Daisy could get out but you hesitated before doing so. You looked at him, and he nodded at you so you nodded your head and again and got out. You stood and watched as he drove away, making his wear to where all of the participants line up their cars before it starts. 

Your eyes follow him, all the way along the man-made little road on the field and to where the other cars were. That’s when you see him, stood in exactly the same place as he was a few weekends before this one and a few weekends before that, leant against his car and his arms crossed as he chewed some gum. 

The insides of your stomach flutter, and not in nervousness but instead in the complete opposite way. He catches your eyes straight away, raising his eyebrows at you as you smile at him. You nod your head, trying hard not to let too big of a blush cover your cheeks and he nods back. That’s as far as your interaction with Harry can go at the moment, because if anyone saw the two of you communicating you knew that all hell would break loose and you certainly didn’t want to be around to see that. 

The race was going to start any second, and you made your way over to where Daisy was stood, knowing that she would have saved you a spot next to her so that you didn’t have to try and manoeuvre your way through the crowd to get a good spot to watch. You were relieved that you had arrived here not early enough to have to wait hours like you had before, because it was in the time like that where the overpowering feeling of worry was able to slip into you like nothing else and you would try really hard to overpower it but the majority of the time you never felt as though you could. 

What YN worried about the most though, was the fact that whoever could be injured in the race, or something worse, were both people that YN loved. The two of them for different reasons, of course, but it was still love and all of the love you felt for them was important. You watched as they both sat in their cars, driving towards the starting line with such an ease that you wondered whether or not they’d be able to do it in their sleep. You wouldn’t be surprised if they could. You know that Harry has raced in hundreds of races, and you also know that your brother is quickly catching up to that, but that doesn’t make it any easier, for them or for you. 

“Ready racers?” A woman walked in between the cars and held up a flag. Both her brother and Harry respond by a roar of their engine, “3! 2! 1! Go!” 

You look down slightly once you hear their cars start, going along the man-made path and over all of the hills and round all of the bends. You only look down for a second before looking up and watching as they drive away from you. The people around you cheer, and Daisy even cheers from the side of you but all you can make up the courage to do is clap your hands slightly. Every time you stand and watch a race, you always say to yourself that you’ll never do it again because you don’t think that you’re heart will survive it, but then you always come back to watch the next race because you physically can’t keep away. Not when two people you love are doing something that you know could end badly. 

They drive around, the two of them doing anything they can to try and throw the other off track but you know that it probably won’t work, because it works with everyone else but hardly ever with each other. You know that whoever wins will do so because of their speed, because that’s how it always happens when the two are up against each other. You stand there watching them drive for what feels like hours, the cheers only getting louder as the two of them fight for the first place prize. 

As the finishing line draws to a close, they’re playing cat and mouse with each other, and you know whoever is next to cross in front will win. 

It’s Isaac. Isaac won. You’re happy for him, but at the same time you know that Harry isn’t going to be the happiest but you’ll just have to remind him that he won last time and that he has to let other people win at some point. Your brother was cheering when he got out of his car, and you could see his friends bouncing over to him with smiles on their faces and drinks in their hands. You and Daisy make your way over, but you aren’t as excited they seem to see him. 

“Are you two leaving now?” He asks and you and Daisy look at each other before nodding, “Satisfied?” 

“Very.” You nod, “Well done.” 

“Thanks.” He raises his hand up and points at you, “Am I picking you up tomorrow?” 

You shake your head, managing to keep your cool as you did, “Daisy said she’ll drive me back. I don’t know whether you’ll be at work by the time we’re ready.” 

“Sounds good. See you tomorrow.” 

You physically let out a sigh of relief when you walk away and he believed you. You hate lying to him, you really do, but you just don’t see any other option to do what you’re doing without lying, which is horrible buy you really don’t know another wine. 

Daisy slips her arm into yours as you walk away, “Where’s he meeting you?” 

“In the usual place.” You nod, “I couldn’t see him when we were over there so I think he’s already gone.” 

“Okay.” She nods, “I’m catching a ride with Dennis, will you be okay?” 

“I’ll be fine.” You smile. 

“Call me if you need anything?” 

“You know I will.” 

“Good.” She wraps her arms around you before pulling away, “See you soon?” 

“See you soon.” 

The walk to the edge of the field, just behind a row of trees that hide Harry’s car from the watchful eye of others isn’t a long one, and you can feel the butterflies bubbling in the pit of your stomach the closer you walked to it. Just as every time you did this, your stomach was in twists and turns tightly in your stomach until you have to place your hand upon it as though it would calm it but it doesn’t. It doesn’t calm down until you see the back of the man you loves head, a slight cloud of smoke around his head and his leather jacket on his body. A smile immediately broke out over your lips. 

You bound over to him, immediately wrapping your arms around his waist and placing your cheek against the leather of his jacket. You can feel him tense underneath your touch slightly but once you hear and feel him chuckle, his whole body relaxes.

He hums, “Who might that be?” 

He grabs your hands and lightly pulls them away from his body so that he can turn around and place his hands around her back. You grin and place your chin on his chest, laughing softly as he leans down and places multiple kisses around your face, “Harry!” 

“What?” He grinned pulling away from you, shrugging his shoulders, “Do you not like my kisses or something?” 

You chuckle, “I love your kisses, but don’t you think they can wait until we’ll out of public. Away from my brother.” 

He pouts, dropping his head to your shoulder, “I suppose.” 

Harry walks over to the passenger side of the car and opened the door for you. As you walked towards him, you placed a kiss to his cheek and slipped into the car. The nerves were back in your stomach as you watched Harry walk around the car and slip into the driver’s seat. The two of you don’t get to see each other as much as you’d possibly like to, so nights like these were special to you, and you hoped that he was just as excited and nervous as you were. 

The second Harry was sat in his seat, and had started the car, his hand was on your thigh, squeezing the flesh through your trousers at you sat there. You really had missed feeling having him touching you, even though it hadn’t been that long. If it was up to you, Harry would be with you everyday and you would be able to kiss and touch him everyday without any issues, but you knew that just wasn’t the case. 

You and Harry had been together for a little shy of three years now, hiding your relationship from literally everyone apart from a few trusted people on each side of you. It wasn’t that you wanted to hide, but you both knew that you just had to if you were going to be able to have the relationship that you had. When you were younger, Harry and Isaac were best friends. You could always remember sitting in the back of the car after behind picked up from school and being squashed into the door because the middle seat was always taken by Harry. You can’t quite remember why the two of them fell out, but you did remember that it happened when the three of you were around fifteen or sixteen. 

It was a shock to everyone, because the two of them had been friends for the longest of times and Isaac did seem to be in a rut once it had happened. You had tried to talk to him about it a few times but he never said anything, so you turned to the one other person in the situation who might have to been able to help you. Harry. At first, he seemed to be completely shocked when you walked over to him one day after school and jumped into his car. He actually looked quite taken aback, but when you started asking questions about the falling out he just went quiet.

To this day you still don’t know what had happened between the two of them, but you do know that was the day that you relationship with Harry turned from being the generally acquaintances because you’re friends with my brother to something more. Harry was somebody who you had grown up with, and yes you could admit that he was handsome, but you’d never thought of him in a romantic way up until that point. A part of you wished that you had picked up on it early because you may have been able to kiss him sooner than you had but you were happy, and the two of you were now three years going strong. 

The fact that your brother and Harry had fallen out, and when the two of you got together it was really rocky between them, you both decided that the best thing to do was just not to tell him, which led to not telling anyone. You had said that when things improved between the two of them you would tell him, but once the Drag Racing started, there was no way that it would ever improve between the two of them, and you just had to accept that. 

Arriving at Harry’s apartment, it was almost as though your body was working on auto-pilot when Harry opened the door and you walked through. You kicked your shoes off by the door, walked into the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water and made your way into his bedroom. Harry was already stood in the small room, placing his jacket in his wardrobe. You quickly started to undress, swapping your clothes for one of Harry’s shirts and a pair of your pyjama shorts. You walk into the bathroom to take your makeup off and brush your teeth. 

“Have you had any more thought into our anniversary trip?” Harry called from the bedroom. 

“I’ve thought about it.” You say, running your make up wipe over your eyes, “That’s about it.” 

You can hear his sigh even from the other room, and your inside’s twists in not the good way. The anniversary trip had been something that the two of you had spoken about for a long time, and it would be coming in a few months and Harry had been on your back for a long time so that they could get it booked, but you were thinking about a lot of other things rather than booking a holiday. You did hate that you didn’t have anything more to say to him, because you knew that he was disappointed, but there was only so much that you could say. 

“I’ll need to book time off of work soon, YN.” He appears only in his boxers in the doorway, leant against it with his arms crossed, “I need to know the dates.” 

“I know.” You sigh, turning so that your hip was leant against the counter, “I still just need to figure out what I’m going to tell Isaac.” 

Harry sighs and runs his hand over his face, “I know. We can think of what to say to him later, but as soon as possible can you tell me the dates.” 

He walks over and places his hands on your waist and you nod, “I will. I’ll check when I get home.” 

“Good.” He presses a kiss to your cheek. 

You hated hiding things from Harry, you really did, because that man really was your soulmate and the person in this world that you told everything to, so it felt horrible to be hiding something from him. Hiding things from Harry felt like ripping your heart from your chest — you just couldn’t do it— but here you were, doing it without anything happening. 

It had been a long night for the two of them, and you knew that even though Harry had a brave face on, you knew that inside he probably wasn’t too happy that he’d lost. The thing about Harry, and your brother for that matter, was that they are so competitive, especially with each other, that when either one of them loses they try to seem like they don’t care but they do. When you walked back into the room, Harry was already in bed with his arms crossed and his face in a sulk. 

You sighed and walked over to your side of the bed, pulling the duvet back and slipping under. Harry didn’t even turn to look at you, so you wrapped your arm around his waist and placed your head upon his chest so that he couldn’t help but look at her. You knew that the main thing that you needed to do right now was try and get him out of the rut. It could spring on him at any point but it was never anything that was easy to get him out of. You sighed and pressed a kiss to his bare chest. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” You mumbled against his chest. 

“There’s nothing to talk about.” He mumbled and you shook your head, lifting your hand up to push some of his hair out of his face. 

“There obviously is.” You sighed, “You’re in your rut. Talking about it takes you out of it. I know that, you know that, but you’re just too stubborn to realise this.” 

“I’m not too stubborn.” He pouts and you shake your head with a roll of your eyes, raising one of your eyebrows at him, “I just. . . fucking hate loosing to him. Talking about the anniversary, and I know why you haven’t said anything about it yet, baby, just reminded me. I’m sorry.” 

You hesitate for a second before smiling at him, “I know you are, H, don’t worry. It’s my fault. I should’ve told you.” 

“Don’t.” He shakes his head and leans forward, placing his hand upon your cheek, “Don’t apologise. I get that it’s hard for you, I know. I just. . . wish that I could take it all away from you. It’s my fault that you’re having to keep secrets from your brother.” 

You shake your head, “It’s not your fault. I promise that it isn’t your fault. There’s been hundreds of times in the past three years when I could have told him.” 

“It’s not just you. We need to tell him.” 

If you needed anything else to love Harry for (which you really don’t because you love him with you’re entire being) you feel as though this would be one of those things. You couldn’t believe how understanding he was, and even though the two of you did have times where you butted heads on things, it was never over anything big like this. The two of you made sure that if you ever did have a problem that you needed to sort, there would be some arguing and shouting but there is in any couple, but the two of you always made up before it ended up turning ridiculous. 

You turned your head to Harry and placed you lips on his, pushing his shoulders down with your hand so that he’s on your back. You move slightly underneath the duvet that you were both under, manoeuvring yourself so that you were hovering over his body, the two of your lips never separating. You were straddling him, your hands resting on the pillow by Harry’s head. Your hips ground against his boxers involuntarily, and you can feel him smiling against him. Harry moaned into your mouth, and you could feel his bulge growing harder and bigger beneath you. 

Pulling away slightly you lean forward and place your forehead upon his, smiling as you place a small kiss to his nose. The hard and stern face of your boyfriend that you had seen earlier when he was racing had completely disappeared, and it was now replaced by his soft and flush features that he only ever saved for when he was with you, and you loved it. You could still feel his hard-on rubbing against your thigh, and you leant forward and placed your lips back on his. His arms wrapped around your waist and back, slipping them down until he could squeeze and knead the flesh over your pyjama short. 

“You know I fucking love you, right?” He mumbles against your lips and you nod. 

His hips continue to buck up to yours, whilst you grind yours back down to him. You pulled away and leant your head upon his forehead again, “I know you love me. You know I love you?” 

He responded you flipping you over, his body now hovering over you. He gave you a boyish smile and nodded his head, leaning his head back down to place his lips on your neck, pressing small little kisses to the skin. 

“I know you love me.” He mumbles against her lips, “Do you wanna feel me, baby? Have you missed me?” 

You responded with a moan, the sound of his raspy voice goes all the way from your ear, all the way down your spine to the heat between your legs. You wouldn’t be surprised if your panties were completely ruined by now. 

“Of course I’ve missed you.” You mumble against his lips, your cheeks flushing as you admit it to him. For years you two have been this close, but it didn’t stop you from being nervous every single time that you are near each other. It’s always how it had been, and probably how it will always be but you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“Tell me how much you’ve missed me.” He kissed down your neck, and you couldn’t help the smile that crossed you face as he did so, “Don’t hold back, baby.” 

You threw your head back as he moved downwards, threading your fingers through his hair as you did so. You just hoped that it made him feel better than it was. 

Walking home the next morning, your entire body was relaxed and happy in a way that it only ever is after you’d spent time with Harry. If you passed anyone in the street, you smiled at them and there was a slight bounce in your step. There was an excitement that there hadn’t been in you for a long time because you were going to look over your schedule and finally get yourself sorted for your anniversary trip with Harry. Walking through the door that goes into kitchen, you immediately walk over to the fridge to take the orange juice out. 

“Morning little sis.” You jump out of your skin and turn around, leaning your back against the counter and lifting your hand up to your chest as it beats in your chest. Looking at your brother, it seemed as though he had just got back from a run, since he was all sweaty, he had his running shoes on and his headphones around his neck. Immediately your heart started to beat in your chest quicker, and the relaxation that you had felt before had immediately left your body and you feel back on edge as you do a lot of the time recently. 

“Morning.” You grin, turning back around to open a cupboard to grab a glass that you could fill with the orange juice carton that you were still holding, “Been for a run?” 

He nods his head, walking over to the fridge and taking out a bottle of water. When he wasn’t looking directly at you, a sigh escaped your lips. It was quickly over and he was looking at you again, leant against the counter across from you with his arms crossed. 

“Woke up with the want to go for a run.” He explained and you furrowed your eyebrows, looking at him and he chuckles, “I know, totally unlike me but I really did just feel like it.” 

You nod, your fingers tapping on the counter slightly, “Did you. . . did you go on your normal route?” 

Isaac shakes his head, “I met up with D’Angelo. We went to the lake.” 

Just like that, the worry that was in your body had left. The lake was on the other side of the town to where Harry lived, and where Isaac normally ran meaning that he couldn’t have seen you leaving Harry’s house which was good. You were starting to realise that the more you had to make sure that your brother hadn’t seen or didn’t know anything about you and Harry, the harder it was becoming for you to keep track of everything. The lie of staying over at Daisy’s had worked for years now, but the older that you got and the more that situations were changing for the two of you, it was harder to keep it as a lie. 

“Was it busy?” You ask, trying to make conversation that made it seem as though everything was normal and nothing had happened. 

He shakes his head, “Not really.” He hesitates for a second before looking up at you and tilting his head to the side, “I did see Daisy and Dennis though.” 

And just like that, your whole body was back to being on edge and nervous. The only way that you could describe how you felt was a mixture of both shock and immediate nervousness. Isaac continued to drink from the bottle in his hand, with no malice or shock on his features at all. If he did know something, he would’ve had said something by now and you knew that because of how well you knew him and that’s in one of the ways how you were both similar — when you knew something, you couldn’t keep it a secret. 

It was something that you had grown up with, your inability to keep secrets and you were honestly and truthfully so surprised that you and Harry had managed to keep your relationship a secret for so long. This wasn’t the first time that you had thought that Isaac had found out about your relationship, and it wasn’t the first time that you hadn’t been able to figure out how to get out of it but you knew that you would be able to get yourself out of it. You hoped that you would be able to get yourself out it. 

You were started to get quite nervous though, with sweaty palms and a heart beating directly up against your chest. Your mind spiralled and you hoped that you were going to hear something that would stop your chest in the next few minutes. 

“Did you?” You cleared your throat to make it seem as though you were more put together than you were. 

He hums, “Yeah. They explained that you were walking home and that Dennis’ arrival was out of the blue.”

You nod and smile, your heart stopping to beat so quickly the second those words escaped her lips, “Yeah. He appeared and asked her to go on a walk before work later. I said that I’d just walk home so that Daisy could go. I think he’s going to ask her out soon.” 

Isaac scoffs and crossing his arms over his chest, “I hope so. They’ve only been dancing around it for the last few years.”

You nod, “We’ve all said it. I don’t know how many times we’ve told her but anyway, I’m going to get in the shower before getting ready for work.” 

You’re quick to walk out of the kitchen and up the stairs with your head spinning. The entire time that you’re getting ready, showering and doing your hair, standing in front of your mirror and looking at the marks that Harry had left over the entirety of your skin before putting your work uniform on, you’re thinking about what you’re going to do. Today you were going to book some time off work from the café during the week of your anniversary, and even though that Daisy would know why you were doing that, you didn’t have to tell anyone else there. When it came to being at home, and telling your brother why you were going to be leaving for a month whilst Daisy stayed at home was going to be hard to explain to say the least. You were going to have to think very carefully about what you were going to say. 

Walking into the small café you worked at not that long later, you were happy to finally be in the place where anything else that happened in your life went to the back of your mind and you could focus on making drinks and serving customers. You had worked at the café since the day you turned eighteen, and you had worked there ever since. It wasn’t what you wanted to do forever, working in the little café with your best friend and your boss that is just an absolute asshole, but you just haven’t got the funds or was it the right time for you to try and get your dream going. 

Your dream, albeit a big one, was to one day own your own café that sold your own treats that you made and looked the exact way that you wanted it to. You had been planning your own café and telling everyone you knew about it since sitting in your maths classes in middle school when you realised that school really wasn’t for you. You were okay in school, and you got good enough grades, but none to get you to what you wanted to do in life. Over the last three years, many of your conversations with Harry had been about your café and how you would work there whilst he would take over his father’s mechanical shop. 

That was the plan for the future, but first — you had a shift to do and you had a lie to think of. 

“Afternoon.” You mumbled as you walked into the small café, Daisy’s eyes immediately widening as she takes a look at you stood there, “How are you?” 

“I’m sorry.” Daisy blurts out, not being able to stop herself from doing so, “I really didn’t know that he was going to be there, if I did I would have never gone there, you know that.” 

“I know.” You walk over and wrap your arms around her shoulders briefly, “He doesn’t know, it’s fine. I shouldn’t be relying on you so much, Daisy, I know that. I’m trying to figure out what to do.” 

“It’s okay, YN.” She mumbles, placing her hand upon your shoulder with a smile, “I know why you’ve done it, but I’m glad you’re finally coming to your senses. It’s three years too late, but at least you’re here.” 

“At least it’s happening now.” You sigh, widening your eyes as you look at her. 

“You’ll be fine. Everything will be fine.” 

You sigh and nod your head, hoping that she was right. 

You heard Harry’s car before you could see it, pulling up outside of your house in a quick stop so that you could quickly duck out and get it. Isaac was out for the night, doing another race in another town that Harry couldn’t do because he had work, so they had decided to spend the night together. Due to Isaac being out of town, they decided that they might even be able to go for a meal, to a restaurant, like a normal couple would. 

You gave him a small smile and a peck on the lips as you sat in the car. There hadn’t been much discussion between you and Harry that week, not since you had left his that morning. It was odd, because the two of you spoke everyday, even if it was just to check that the other was okay, but the conversation this week had been limited to you asking him to come for a meal and him replying saying that he would. You always knew that this day would come, where the unspoken issue between the two of you had become too much for you to handle. 

You had tried five times over the last week to say something to Isaac, trying to drop it in to normal conversation but you always dived away from it, as though you couldn’t allow yourself to say what you wanted to say to him. You had never been as nervous before in your life, and all you had to do was tell him about a secret that involved the one person that Isaac hated most in life and his twin sister. You just had to try your hardest to remind yourself over and over again that it was the best thing to do, and that you’d be happy if you were able to get the words out, but you just couldn’t. 

The two of you arrived at a restaurant on the outskirts of the town you lived in, one that meant you would be safe if Isaac did return home and one that the two of you also knew would serve good food. The car ride continued without any words spoken between the two of them, and you tried your hardest to not feel the nerves bubbling inside of you, but you also knew that there was a reason why you were going to have this conversation with him, and there was a reason why you needed to feel nervous for it. 

Sitting across from Harry in a booth that sat at the front of the restaurant, you couldn’t even bring yourself to take your eyes off of his face. There hadn’t been a lot of times during your relationship with Harry where you had felt like this, and it was usually always when the two of you were discussing the exact topic that you knew that you were going to be now. Whilst you couldn’t take your eyes off of Harry, it seemed as though he wanted nothing more than to not look at you. 

“Hey.” He didn’t look up from the menu that he had in his hand, “Are you going to even look at me?” 

You watch as he doesn’t even move a muscle, never mind do the thing that you wanted him to do which was look at you, “I’ve looked at you.” 

“Not since we’ve sat down you haven’t.” 

You watch as he sighs and drops the menu down so that it was rested upon the table between you and lifts his eyes up to look at you, “Happy now?” 

A small smile breaks out your face, a sarcastic one at that, but a smile nonetheless, “Very.” 

Harry rolls his eyes and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. You look at him with your eyes widened. Why this was happening all of a sudden, you didn’t know, but you had a slight suspicion that you weren’t going to be able to argue your way out of this one with him like you had done in the past. The first thing that led you to believe that was the fact that you were in a public place, where you had to do your best to make sure that you were going to tell the truth and nothing but the truth. 

As a whole, you were ashamed of your actions over the years, and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to apologise for everything that you had done in the past but you could at least try. Everything had changed now that you had your three year anniversary coming up, and you realised that there was so much more to life than trying to hide a stupid secret from your brother. 

“Harry.” You start, a sigh immediately leaving your lips after, “I’m sorry. I really am.” He nods his head, “I don’t expect you to accept my apology, and I certainly don’t expect you to forgive me for the shit that I’ve put you through these last couple of years, but, I want to let you know that I am trying to fix things. I promise you.” 

He sighs, “I don’t know how you can, YN. I’ve thought about it a lot recently, in the past week, since our conversation last week.” 

“I have too.” You nod, your fingers messing with the hem of your jacket, “I have too. I’ve tried so many times, to tell him, but I just can’t and I don’t know why. He can’t do anything, I’m a grown ass woman and he’s just my brother. He can’t tell me who I can and can’t love, and I do love you Harry more than anything, but there’s a part of me that just can’t tell him.” 

Harry cleared his throat and sighed, “I never told you the reason we argued.” 

You shake your head, “Neither of you did.” 

“Do you want to know?” He asked. 

You shrugged, “I don’t know. . . if it will help, than yes.”

Harry sighed and nodded his head, running his finger over his bottom lip the way that you knew that he did when he was nervous, “We were in Eugene’s basement, having just watched one of his races and he had some shit, and we decided to take it. It was just us, everyone else had gone to do something else or get high somewhere else, and we were just sat.” You were hanging off of every word that he said, “We were taking about, I don’t know, life and all the shit that we usually do when we’re high and we got onto the topic of you.”

Your eyes widen, “Me? Why were you talking about me?” 

“He mentioned you and how you wanted to do things with your life and how he was fed up that all he had to do with his life was race.” Harry chuckled and shook his head, “I couldn’t even help it, I just blurted out that I liked you and that I was going to ask you on a date, thinking that he would be happy for us, but instead, he punched me in the face.” 

Your lips part, “He what?” 

“He punched me.” Harry runs a hand through his hair, “And then he just started screaming at me, saying that scum like me wasn’t good enough for someone like you. The more he said it, the more I believed it and I believed it all the way until you got in my car and asked me to tell you what had happened. I didn’t, and I didn’t for a reason, because if I had told you maybe you would’ve thought the same as him, that I wasn’t good enough for you, so instead I asked you on the date, just like I had planned to.” 

You let his words sink in for a while, the sound of them bouncing around in your head for a while as you look down at the table in front of you. You couldn’t lie and say that you hadn’t thought about what had gone down between them, and what had been said to make them despise each other as much as they did, but you certainly hadn’t expected it to be about you of all things. It started to all make sense now, how when you had asked him, after your first night together at his house, if he was okay that you didn’t tell your brother about the two of you being together, and he agreed. At first you had thought that it was odd, seeing as though this man didn’t know your motive behind why you were saying that, but at the same time, you didn’t know his motive behind why he said yes. 

It all made sense. 

You sigh and nod your head, “Why didn’t you just tell me? I would’ve understood. You know that I would’ve.” 

He shrugs his shoulders, “Why didn’t you tell me about what you had been thinking? And what you had been trying to do?” 

You shrug your shoulders, “I don’t know.” 

“It works both ways, YN.” He shrugs, “And I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you but a part of you has to realise that there was a reason you didn’t tell me and you didn’t tell him. I understand a part of you was trying to keep it calm between us, but there had to be more than that.”

You can feel the tears starting to brim within your eyes, and the more that you thought about it, the more that you knew you were going to struggle to hold them back. You start to blink quickly, lifting your eyes up to look at the ceiling. It worked, and you managed to make sure that no tears slid down your cheeks. 

“A part of me did do it because I knew that it would be easier for you, that you didn’t have to tell him that you were my boyfriend. I knew how hard that would’ve been for you.” You explain, lifting your hand up to scratch your forehead, “So I decided that for a little while, I just wouldn’t tell him. At least not until things had calmed down between the two of you. After a few months of waiting was going to say something to him, just drop it into conversation and then walk out of it with my hands up but then I realised that it wasn’t going to be that easy. The day that I was going to do it, he walked into my bedroom with this big news that he was so excited to tell me.” You take in a breath and sigh, “It was the news that you were starting to drive, and that he was going to beat you that night and I knew that if I had told him, he wouldn’t have just beat you in the race.” 

“I can stand up for myself, YN.” 

“I never said that you couldn’t.” She shook her head, “I just didn’t want you getting hurt because of me.” 

“I wouldn’t be getting hurt because of you. I’d be getting hurt because of something we did.” He explains, “Just like you can’t blame this all on me, and me on you, I’m not going to let you blame this all on yourself either.” 

“Harry.” You sigh and lean back in the chair that you sat in, “We’re going to have to tell him.” 

He shakes his head, “He’s not going to like it.” 

“I know.” You agree with him and hold your hand out, “But we’ve got to tell him.” 

“I know we have.” He grasps your hand in his.

It turned out that you and Harry didn’t have to wait for too long to tell your brother, because when Harry pulled up outside of your house, your brother was already sat there on the steps of the house, waiting for you to arrive home. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing if you were completely honest, and a part of you realised that this was it. You turned to look at Harry slightly, a sigh leaving your lips as you did so. 

“You still want to do this?” He asked, pulling his keys out of the ignition as the car came to a complete stop. 

You sigh and lean over to place your hand upon his, “I don’t think we have a choice, now.” 

“We do.” He turned his head to look at you, squeezing your fingers as he did so, “I could just drive away. Ignore him.” 

You chuckle and shake your head, lifting your connected hands up to place a kiss to the back of his hand, “Come on. He might explode if we keep him waiting any longer.” 

You certainly couldn’t lie and say that your brother looked like he was handling everything well, because he certainly wasn’t. His jaw seemed to be constantly clenched the entire time that you walked towards him, and you definitely saw his hands that were clenched by his sides in fists. You knew that he was going to be annoyed, and you expected that there would certainly be some shouting involved with this, but, she certainly didn’t want this to become physical at any point. In your opinion, it certainly wasn’t worth it. 

“YN.” You stop in front of him once he’s spoken your name, and Harry is just a few steps behind you. Having him there really brings a comfort that you don’t really feel unless you’re with him, so if anything, you were happy that he was there, “What are you doing with him?” 

“I’m—” You start, looking at him for a second before letting out a sigh, “He’s—”

You can’t find the right words to say what you want to say. You knew that it wasn’t going to be easy to explain to your brother, but you at least thought that you’d be able to get past the first words without choking up, but it seemed as though that wasn’t the case. 

“Isaac—” Harry takes a step forward, so that he was directly next to you but before he could say anything else, Isaac holds his hand out to stop him. 

“I wasn’t talking to you.” Harry clamps his lips shut, and you can tell that he’s trying to hold back so many things but at least he isn’t making the situation worse which you knew that he possibly could. Isaac then turns to you, “I was asking you the question. What are you doing with him?” 

Letting out a sigh, you shut your eyes for a second to calm yourself down, “I’m. . . we’re together, Isaac.” 

He lets out a sigh and shakes his head, tutting slightly as he did so, “When Eugene told me, I didn’t believe him. I said that you’d never do that to me because you know that I hate him more than I’ve hated anyone in my life before.” 

At first you listen to the words that he was saying and you nod along, as if you’re understanding what they’re saying, but you quickly shake your head and cross your arms over your chest. 

“I’d never do what to you, Isaac?” You ask, your eyebrows furrowing as you say the words you were speaking, “I’ve fallen in love with someone, Isaac, I don’t think that involves you at all.”

“But you know I can’t stand him!” 

“Still here, you know.” Harry mutters, lifting his hands up and walking away from them slightly. 

You turn over to look at Harry and glare at him slightly before you turn your attention back to Isaac, “Why do you think I didn’t tell you? I knew that you’d react like this.” 

“What? I’d react completely sane, YN?” Isaac scoffs and shakes his head. 

“Sane?” You physically can’t believe what you’re hearing, “Isaac, you don’t have the right to act like this over who is my boyfriend. Yeah, I understand that you don’t like Harry and he isn’t particularly fond of you either, but you don’t have a say in that.” You stop slightly and let out a sigh of relief when you realise that you’ve got him listening, “I would completely understand if you were upset about me not telling you and lying to you, but that is what you can be mad at.” 

He looks at you but then he shakes his head, and you know that everything that you’ve just said has gone and he couldn’t care less about it now. 

“YN.” You know that tone of voice anywhere, and you couldn’t believe that he was still acting like this, “It’s Harry. You don’t know the shit that he said, and you don’t know what it was like to sit and listen to him saying everything he said about you.” 

This time, it’s you who lets the words that he’s just spoken sink in for a while. If what Harry had said to you earlier was true, that all your brother had to be upset about was him saying that he liked you and wanted to ask you out. Now, you’re not exactly sure how the male mind works, but you’re pretty sure that Isaac can distinguish between someone saying that they like someone and something else. You turn to look at Harry and he looks down at the floor, and that’s when you realise very quickly that there was something else to the story that you didn’t know. The mere thought of it made you feel sick. What had actually been said that night?

“Isaac.” You turn back to look at him, “What was said?” 

“YN.” He shakes his head, scratching his forehead slightly, “I don’t want to tell you.” 

“Tell me.” Your words are harsh and you can tell by the way that Harry backs away from you that you’re about to be in for a real treat, “Tell me!” 

“When we were in high school, we had this list.” Isaac starts, and you know that what he is saying is probably really important context but you just want him to get to the point, “And on this list, we’d rank who we thought were the most fuck-able girls in the school.” 

Your entire heart plummets to the pit of your stomach, “That’s disgusting. You should be ashamed of yourselves.” 

“I am, don’t worry.” Isaac nods, “Harry never got involved with it, and we all knew why, because he was the good one who never cared about those things and everyone just accepted that. I certainly did.” 

“Just get on with it, Isaac.” 

“Well, we were in Eugene’s basement and we were high and drunk and everything was just a little blurred if I’m honest, but I asked Harry a question. I said, best friend to best friend, if you were to pick one person to go on the top of the list, and just be his one person and nobody apart from us would ever find out, he turned to me and said: you.” 

You can’t figure out what your angrier at. You can’t decide whether it’s because Harry had actually said those words to your brother, degrading you in such a way that you had never ever expected him to or the fact that he had lied to you about what had actually happened. In honesty, you do think that thing that has upset you the most was that he didn’t tell you the truth. He could have told you what had actually happened earlier on in the day on you wouldn’t have cared, because you knew that he was high and drunk and he probably wouldn’t have meant it but the fact that he lied, made you feel sick to your stomach. It made you question whether or not he had lied to you at other points and you just hadn’t known because you were too naïve to see it. 

You turn to look at Harry and he’s looking directly back at you, not at the ground and not anywhere else but directly at you. 

“Harry.” You can already feel the tears start to form within your eyes, “Tell me it’s not true.” 

Harry shakes his head and looks down at the ground, and you shake your head to try and back the tears. You know that if you open your mouth words will tumble out that you really don’t mean, and you know that you can’t let that happen but you’re in such a state that you know that you’re mind would be clouded with how upset you are. 

“He knows it’s fucking, true, YN.” Isaac says from behind you, “That’s why we fucking fought and punched the living daylights out of each other.” 

You shake your head again, the tears involuntarily spilling down your cheek, “Harry. Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I thought—” He starts but then he shakes his head, “I didn’t—”

Just like you couldn’t find the words to say, it seemed as though Harry couldn’t either. You really didn’t care about what he said, and you wouldn’t care about what he said. There were things that you’d said when you were younger and in high school that you certainly regretted and you would hate if anyone was to bring them up but you wouldn’t lie about it. You had lied in the past and done things in the past that you didn’t agree with, but it wasn’t as though you were doing it for any other reason but to protect the relationships that you had made with people. 

“Harry.” He lifts his head to look at you, “I think you should go.” 

“YN. . .” He takes a step forward towards you but you hold your hand up. 

“Just for tonight.” You nod your head, “We’ll speak tomorrow. We all just need to. . . calm down.” 

“But YN. . .” He takes another step forward but you shake your head. 

“Please, Harry.” You close your eyes, “Just for tonight.” 

He doesn’t seem very happy with what you had said but he nods at you once before walking over to his car and getting in. He slams the door closed behind him, and you flinch when he does so. You watch through the window as he looks at you one last time before starting the engine and driving. 

He drives on, and he doesn’t look back, not even one last time and you watch as his car disappears off the street. Once you know that he’s gone, you start walking towards the end of the drive and down to the pavement. 

“YN—” Isaac starts but you turn to look at him and shake your head. 

“Not now.” You run a hand through your hair, “I’m going to Daisy’s. I’ll be fine.” 

With that, you walk down the street and towards Daisy’s house, the thoughts of what had just happened dancing around in your head. You knew that this was going to happen at some point, and it would all blow up in your face, you just hadn’t know that it would be like this.

The next day you return home with bags underneath your eyes and yawns escaping your lips. You would say that you’re nervous, but after being up all night with worry in your stomach, you’re pretty certain that you’re just a little anxious but the thing that overwhelms your brain more than anything is the want for all of this to be over. You needed to sort things out with your brother, so you could go back to being siblings that annoy each other more than anything, and then you need to sort everything out with Harry. You knew that it was going to be hard, and you knew that your emotions were going to be high but you needed to get it over and done with. You weren’t going to allow your life to be like this for longer than it needed to be, and it didn’t need to be at all. 

When you walked through the front door of your house, you didn’t know what you were expecting to see, but you really didn’t expect what you saw. Isaac was laid across the couch, with empty beer bottles on the table in front of him. You knew why he had done it, and you hated that it was your fault that he had done it but at the same time he was a grown man, just like you were a grown woman, and he knew that this wasn’t the right way to go about things. 

With a sigh, you walked over to the sofa and picked up one of the cushions by Isaac’s feet and threw it air his head. He groaned and moved around and that was when you nudged his legs so that you could sit down. He groaned again but moved them away, and you heard him yawn and felt his body lift up from beside you so that he was upright. 

“How’s the head?” You mumble, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning back in the seat. 

He groans and does the same, “It’s been better.” 

You chuckle and close your eyes, allowing a slight calmness to wash over your body. If there was one thing that you missed about getting older, was not being able to have the stupid conversations with him that made absolutely no sense to anybody but the two of them. But, something that you did know was that even when this was all sorted and everything went back to normal, you wouldn’t be surprised if not everything went back to normal between the two of you. It was something hard to understand, but you just had to accept it because you wouldn’t be surprised if it took years to fix. 

There’s a silence between the two of you for a while, but you quickly realise that isn’t going to help you in your situation so without really thinking you collect yourself and let out a small breath that you didn’t know you had been hiding for a while. 

“I’m sorry.” You say, the words coming out of your mouth stronger than you had expected them to. You thought that they would at least be broken, but they weren’t, “I’m sorry for everything, but most importantly, I’m sorry for lying and keeping it from you.” 

You don’t know what Isaac is going to say, and the fact that you don’t does make you worry slightly but you know that you’d be able to handle whatever he was going to say. You would be able to handle it because you were strong, at this point you needed to be. 

“I accept your apology.” He says, and you turn to look at him with tears in your eyes. He nods at you and smiles, “The more I thought about it, the more I understood why you did it. If the shoe was on the other foot I would’ve done the exact same thing. I wouldn’t have even hesitated to.” 

You nod your head and close your eyes, a few tears falling from them but you’re quick to lift your hand and wipe them away. He reaches over and grabs your hand, and you squeeze his as you do so. 

“I shouldn’t have lied to you though.” You shake your head, “We don’t lie to each other.” 

“Oh.” Isaac shakes his head and you furrow your eyebrows at him, “We don’t lie to each other but we certainly keep secrets. The amount I’ve kept from you. . . you’d probably kill me.” 

Your lips part in shock, “Are you going to tell me them?” 

“No.” He shakes his head, a chuckle leaving his lips, “I maybe will later, but right now, you’ve got somewhere to be.” 

“Have I?” He taps his hand on your leg and stands up, and all you can do is furrow your eyebrows in response. 

“You have.” You watch as he grabs his jacket and places it on his body, “And I’m going to take you there.” 

You know straight away that Isaac is talking about going to see Harry, and just the fact that he was going to take you made you want to burst out into even more tears that you had been before. You didn’t though, because you were able to keep your calm and just smile and nod along with him, but it was certainly hard for you to do. It felt as though you were getting acceptance from Isaac and although you knew that you didn’t really need it, it sure felt good to have. You offered him a quick smile and got into his car, driving you to Harry’s and leaving you there with a squeeze of his hand. 

Even though you weren’t that nervous when it came to talking to Isaac, speaking to Harry was a completely different thing. Whereas you and Isaac had a sibling bond that could never be broken, you and Harry had a bond, one that was love to the highest degree, but it was still a love that could be broken. You just hoped that this wasn’t it and you hadn’t met the point of no return just yet. 

You palms were sweaty as you knocked on his door, and your heart felt as though it was going to beat out of your chest but you knew that this was the right thing to do. You could hear shuffling behind the door, and then it swung open, and you wanted to sigh in relief just at the sight of him stood there. He looked like he hadn’t slept, but you hadn’t either so it was something that you both had in common, and he had his joggers hung low on his hips in a way that you always found so endearing whenever he did it. 

“Hi.” You say, the corners of your lips tilting upwards slightly, “Can I come in?” 

He opens his mouth as if to say something but then he just ends up nodding his head and opening the door wider so your body can slip through. It looks exactly the same as the last time you had been there, and it felt comfortable and like your home. It certainly was your home away from home, and living with Harry would be something that you wouldn’t mind doing in the future if time permitted you too. You had to remind yourself to take a few steps back and look at the situation ahead of you, and how you had a lot of things that you needed to talk about before anything else in the future could happen. 

Walking into the apartment, you hear Harry shut the door behind you. You knew that he wasn’t too far behind you, so you turned around.

“I didn’t think you’d be here so soon.” He muttered, shrugging his shoulders, “I thought you’d need a few days.” 

“I said I would talk to you tomorrow.” You smile and nod your head, “I’m wasn’t about to go back on that.” 

You swear you can see the slight lift of the corner of his lips, and it’s the first sign to you that everything might actually end up being okay. 

“I know you think we have things to talk about but I actually just have one thing to say.” He says, taking a step forward towards you. You watch as he hesitantly reaches out and grabs your hand, and you smile at just the feeling of his skin on yours again, “I’m sorry, That’s all I can say. I’m sorry that I said those things all those years ago, and I’m more sorry that I didn’t tell you about it when I had the chance. It was stupid of me, and I can understand if you want to. . . if you want to.” He physically stops and you can tell that he’s struggling with something, “If you want to break up with me.” 

You gasp at his words, taking a step forward and placing your hands on his cheeks, “Harry. . . no. Don’t think that. I’m not going to break up with you over that.” 

You can hear him physically sigh and you couldn’t even understand why he dared to think the way that he was, “I didn’t know. I didn’t know how you’d think.” 

“Harry.” You lean forward so that your forehead is on his, “I’m upset that you lied, but I did too. If anything, we’re just as bad as each other. That’s probably why we’re so perfect for each other, right?” 

“Right.” He chuckled, nodding his head, “We’re perfect for each other. I love you so much, I’m so sorry.” 

“I’m sorry too.” You close your eyes as you let the words sink in, “If there’s one way I know how we’re never going to go through anything like this again, is if we promise to never keep anything from each other again.” 

“We won’t.” He mumbles, “I won’t.” 

“Good. I won’t either.” Your hands grip onto his arms as they wrap around your neck, “I need you, Harry Styles. I do.” 

“I need you too.” 

With that you open your eyes so that you can look directly in his, a small smile breaking over your lips at the fact the two of you knew that he needed you just as much as you needed him. It certainly made this entire situation feel as though it happened for a reason, that it happened so that you could be stronger than you already were. You never doubted that he loved you, and that you loved him, but there was the doubt that everything would have caught up with you, and that was something that you knew would be your fault. All of this was your fault, for not being honest in the first place, but that didn’t mean that you couldn’t find it in yourself to be honest now and get you and Harry through this. 

Without even the slightest hint of hesitation you lean forward and place your lips on his, and he didn’t wait to kiss back, his tongue moving against his bottom lip before pushing it through your parted lips. Your tongue met his in your mouth, and you pulled each other closer, grasping at each other with the want and need that never stopped when you were around him. The spark that you always felt when you were with him ran all the way down from the skin of your lips to the tip of your toes, fluttering all over your body. You had told him that you needed him, which was the truth, but you were soon starting to realise that there was more to the need you had for Harry than what met the eye. It was something that went past all of the words in the dictionary to actions that you needed to name, and that’s why you pulled away and rested your head on his forehead. 

“Harry.” You mumble, “Take me to the bedroom.” 

He pulls away and furrows his eyebrows, not expecting those words to slip from your mouth, “Are you sure? We don’t have to.” 

“I’m sure.” You mumble against his lips, “Never been more certain of anything in my entire life.” 

He presses kisses against your neck and shoulders as he places you down on the bed, his body hovering over yours. When he starts to put a little more pressure on your skin with his teeth, you can’t help the light moans that start to escape your lips. He starts to toy with the hem of your shirt, and you respond to him by lifting your legs and wrapping them around his waist. Your hips move in circular motions to his, and it’s his turn to moan into you. 

You pull away and sit up, pulling your shirt over your head and revealing your bra to him. It wasn’t the nicest bra you owned, but it got to the point in your relationship when you didn’t need to wear fancy lingerie all of the time to feel good enough for him, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t every now and then to feel sexy. Every now and then, though, just like you felt now, you realise that you don’t need to wear anything to feel sexy because just the way that Harry looked at you made you feel like that. The was his eyes raked up and down your body, across every inch of skin that he could see. That made you feel sexy. The way he looked at you made you feel sexy. 

“Missed this.” He leans over and places a kiss to the skin of your shoulder, “Missed you. You’re so fucking beautiful, YN, you have no idea.” 

You lean forward and capture your lips again on his, slipping your arm around his shoulder so that you could run your nails down his back, scratching lightly as you did so. He took it upon himself to slip his hands between the two of you and unbutton your trousers, pulling them as well as your panties down your legs. You remove your arms from around his neck so that you can unclip your bra and pull it down from your torso and throw it down on the floor with the rest of your clothes. This was how you loved it to be with Harry. You just loved it when the two of you were together, alone. You guessed a part of it was because that was all you ever knew of it. 

Harry was the most loving and beautiful person you’d met in your life, and you would have loved to be able to show him off to the world as the one you loved but it just wasn’t that easy, but now you had the slight suspicion that you might be able to, and a part of you was excited about that. 

Your hands extend back out to him, pulling his body back down so that he was hovering above you again. He places a single kiss to your lips before moving his way down your body, placing kisses to your chest before moving down to the top of your breast and then down towards your nipples. He moves from each of them, one to the other, giving each of them the attention that he always does. You smile and thread your fingers through his hair, running through the curls that sat on top of his head. You used it to pull his head back up and place his lips on yours again. He responds by immediately kissing you back, and he wraps his arms around you so that he could flip you over, so that you’re resting above him now. 

You pulled back and rested your forehead against his, “You want me on top?” He nodded and you smiled, watching as he slipped his hands into each side of his joggers before pulling them down his legs, as well as his boxers, revealing his cock. You manoeuvre your body so that you’re further down the bed and so that your head is at the same level as him, and you lean forward, pressing a singular kiss to the tip. The sound that emits from his throat causes you to not hesitate in leaning forward and wrapping your lips around the top of him, starting to bob your head at a slow pace that you know is seemingly working because you can see his stomach moving up and down at a quick pace. Groans tumble from his lips, and you know that he’ll be getting close but before he can do anything else his hands press against your cheeks and lift you back up so that he can kiss you again. 

“Don’t you wanna. . . ?” You ask, your eyebrows furrowing as you look at him. 

“No.” He shakes his head, placing his lips on yours, “I don’t want anything but to be inside of you right now.” 

You watched as he moved backwards slightly, so that you were close enough to the wall that you could rest of your hand against the wall as you manoeuvre yourself over him. His cock slips between your folds, and words can’t describe how wet you are for him, dripping all over him. You place your lips on his again and start to move yourself up and down his cock. The groan that escapes his lips is unlike any you’ve heard before, and you can’t help the smile that dances across your lips. 

“You’re drenched for me.” He groans against your lips, “Fuck, I wanna be inside of you.” 

“Be my guest.” You grin, and you watch as he leans down to grab his cock in his fist and you lift up so that you can line yourself up with him. You grasp his shoulder as you slowly sink down on him, the familiar feeling of having him fill you up overwhelming you. You had been together for three years and no matter how many times you had sex, it still manages to overwhelm you more than words can explain. You whimper when he’s fully inside of you, hesitating for a few minutes before you press your lips to his in another short kiss. 

“So fucking tight.” He mumbles, “Best fucking feeling in the world.” 

You tilt your head back slightly with a smile crossing your lips, “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” 

He chuckles but that’s quickly shut off when you start to move, bouncing up and down on his cock. Your nails scrape down his back as you move, and you can’t help the moans of profanities that leave your lips as you move. You knew you were squeezing yourself around him, it was always something that you did that caused him to clench his jaw, just has he was doing now. You quickly found a rhythm, swirling your hips and grinding them in a way that had both of you moaning out each others names. 

You tilted your head back when he hit a spot deep inside of you that sent a wave of pleasure rushing over your body. He didn’t even hesitate to lean forward and capture your nipple in his mouth, flicking his tongue over the bud slightly before moving to the other. He wrapped his arms around your body and slipped them down your back, all the way until he grabbed the flesh of your ass and squeezed. His movements were harsh, but they sent a wave of pleasure through your entire body. 

“YN.” You hum, leaning forward and resting your head on his shoulder, not stopping the movements on his hips, “You’re never going to leave me, are you?” 

You move so that you’re sat up straight and look at him, “Why would you think that? I’m not going to leave you, Harry, never.” 

“Good.” He leans forward and placing his lips back on yours. Your movements don’t slow down, if anything, they speed up and a string of moans escape your lips. His hands are all over your body, and his lips are too, and the the feeling starts to rush over you. You manage to keep your hips moving at the pace for a while before you slow down, and Harry notices this and quickly flips you both over. You lay on your back with your head on the pillow, and Harry doesn’t even hesitate when he slips back into you. His movements aren’t fast, but they’re certainly deep. 

“So fucking deep, Harry. Feels so fucking good.” Your words only seem to egg Harry on, especially the way your nails scratch down his back, “I’m so close.”

Harry was hitting just as deeply inside of you as he had been when you were riding him, and the feeling tips you closer and closer to the edge. Your hands drop down to your sides to grasp the duvet cover, and you turn your head so that you can muffle the obnoxiously loud moans that you couldn’t help leaving your lips. 

“I know you are baby.” One of his hands slips through yours, “Don’t hide them moans though, let me hear them, baby, you know what it does to me.” 

You move your head back so that he can hear your moans, and he smiles as he continues to fuck you. It doesn’t take long before he’s tipping you over the edge and your orgasm hits you. It’s one of the most powerful you’ve ever had, and you have every reason to believe that it’s because of how high emotions are between the two of you at the moment. It’s intense and you can feel it everywhere, all over your entire body and more so in the pit of your stomach. Harry didn’t stop his movements, not until he hit his high as well and spilled into you. You didn’t care about anything else in that moment though, because you felt closer to Harry now than you even had been, and you never wanted it to change again. 

Once he pulls out of you, a whimper immediately leaving your lips due to the emptiness you now feel. He quickly cleans you up, and then drops into the bed beside you, and you don’t even hesitate when you wrap your arm around his waist and rest your head upon his chest. When your eyes close, you let out a sigh of relief. 

“Harry.” He hums, and you can feel the vibration of his chest beneath your ear, “I’m sorry I told you to drive away.” 

“Don’t be.” He mumbles, his fingertips dancing along the skin of your arm, “We’ve all done thing that we aren’t proud of, but we have a new start. One where we don’t have to keep this a secret.” 

You nod and smile, still not opening your eyes, “I love you.” 

“Love you too, baby.” 

#playlistficchallenge #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles au #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles

[sxnnimoon]

Little One pt.3

Here is part 3 my pretty's! Hope you enjoy! And as always my requests are open. Happy reading!

Paring- OT7 x Reader (poly)

Summary- Through your husbands line of work they take a week or more off to spend some time with their wife.

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

You couldn’t tell if it was real or not, the sensation you were feeling was almost euphoric. Looking under the covers you saw the culprit. Jungkook was between your legs devouring you. You let out a moan to let him know you were fully aware of what he was doing.

He looked up at you.

“Good morning baby.” He smiled before continuing.

He knew you were close just by the tone in your moans.

“Cum baby, let go.” He whispered.

You cried out before releasing into his mouth.

He cleaned you up smiling at what he just did.

You pulled him up to cuddle you.

“Thank you Kookie.” You smiled, closing your eyes.

“Don’t go back to sleep,” he said, tickling you. “Breakfast will get cold then.”

Your head popped up at the thought of food. You got up, still naked from last night's activities. You went ahead and threw your robe on not bothering to put on clothes.

“Let’s go.” He said throwing you over his shoulder running to the dining room.

You were a giggling mess.

He finally put you down, your babies were already there waiting for you, they had dropped their suits for lounge wear. You liked seeing them like this.

“Took you long enough.” Yoongi said.

“We asked you to wake her,” Namjoon said.

“I did.” Kook protested.

“With his mouth.” You smirked digging into your breakfast.

They all groaned, wishing they had thought to do that.

Jungkook had the biggest grin on his face.

“No whining,” you said. “We have too much to do today before we leave.”

They nodded in agreement.

Once you all finished eating, they each took the liberty of cleaning up for you.

You were currently in your closet trying to pick out the best outfits for Italy. You knew not to over do it as they were no doubt going to spoil you.

You were looking at all your fancier dresses as you knew they would want nothing more than to party while on this vacation. You brought you short but high cut silver dress that drove Yoongi crazy but also your black dress with the all mesh skirt that had slits down either side. After choosing your shoes you made the final touches for lingerie and zipped up your suitcase.

You walked over to Namjoons room as he never knew what to pack, so being the good wife you were, you decided to get it out of the way for him.

After making sure everything was packed, you changed and decided to get in a few laps in the pool.

Walking out you noticed Taehyung had the same idea as you.

“Fancy seeing you here.” You smiled at him.

Hi my little dove.” He smiled up at you. “Hop in.”

“I think I like the view from over here.” You smirked sitting at the edge of the pool.

He instantly swam over to you. He stopped a few feet in front of you. You could sense the mischief in his eyes.

“Don’t you dare.” You warned him slowly going to get up.

But it was too late. He splashed you.

“KIM TAEHYUNG!” You shouted.

His eyes went wide, he knew he fucked up. He ducked under the water trying to swim away but you jumped in after him, catching him instantly.

“I’m sorry baby.” He said arms up in defense.

“Sure you are.” You said before dunking him underwater.

He quickly recovered. Shaking out his hair in your face.

You glare at him before swimming to the shallow end.

“Oh come on baby.” He pouted at you. “Don’t be like that.”

He pulled you closer to him. Wrapping your legs around him.

“I’m not falling for it.” You said trying to squirm out of his grasp.

“You know you wanna.” He said kissing your jaw and neck.

You knew he was right, you practically were putty in his hands. You just had to give in.

“Be quick about it,” you began. “Lunch won’t cook itself.”

“I’ll be quick.” He smirked, moving your bottoms to the side.

He slid in with ease. You moaned at the sensation. He was definitely thicker than the others. He set a quick and fast pace that would get you both off. It didn’t take long for that to happen. He was out of breath.

“Will you two get out of the pool?” Jin said a bit sternly. “We have things to do. That can all wait.”

Jin helped you out of the pool.

“I’m sure you want me twice as bad right now.” You said running a finger down his pants.

He shivered under your touch.

“Don’t tempt me, little one.” He gave you a hard look.

You just smirked running off after Tae.

Night was setting in and you had to be on a plane in 5 hours. You hand the luggage placed in front of the door doing a final count.

“I have 6,” you yelled. “Who's missing?”

“We’re coming!” Shouted Kookie and Jimin.

“Of course it would be you two.” Yoongi said.

“Play nice.” You glared at him.

He rolled his eyes.

“Only for you.” He cooed in your ear.

“You’ve gone soft.” Hobi said.

“Only for her.” Yoongi smiled.

“Okay, does everyone have what they need.” You smiled at them.

They all responded with yes. You couldn’t wait to spend time with them in Rome. You all piled into the limo and headed for your jet. Once the flight took off Kookie was already passed out. You smiled at him, caressing his cheek, making him smile in his sleep.

You moved your attention back to your book. It was a gift from Joonie, ever since you got it you could not put it down. You yawned.

“Get some sleep kitten.” Yoongi said, placing his hand on your thigh.

You nodded, soon falling asleep to him running circles on your thigh. You had woken up just in time for landing.

“Morning jagiya.” Jimin smiled. “We’ll be landing soon.”

Once off the plane it was about 1:30 in the afternoon. Everyone was tired over the 13+ hour flight. You just wanted to get to the villa and crash.

Pulling up to the place you were in awe. It was right by the water with a private beach. It was just you guys. The scenery looked out of a movie. You really picked a good place for this long week.

“The place is beautiful princess.” Taehyung came up behind you.

Walking in the place was huge. It had large windows, A giant kitchen. It was heaven. You took notice of the cats that walked around the back of the villa throughout the garden.

One in particular caught your eyes. She was black with a white spot in the shape of a heart on her forehead. She was gorgeous. Overlooking the garden it had a gazebo and waterfall towards the center. It was covered in roses. Moving on to the bedrooms there were 8 in total. The boys would each get their own room as you would yourself. Even though some of them would no doubt be sleeping in your room. You all were finally settling in but you were far from wanting to just sleep. You wanted to go out and explore, though you knew they wouldn’t let you out of their sight.

“I wanna do something.” you pouted, plopping down on the couch next to Namjoon.

“We’ll do things tomorrow baby.” Hoseok said.

“But I wanna go swimming.” you whined.

“Don’t start.” Jin warned.

“Fine.” you said getting up.

They assumed you gave in but you had other plans in mind. You slowly began undressing as you walked to the back door leading to the private beach.

“I’m going down by the water.” you called out not bothering to look at them.

“Oka- Y/N!” Jin yelled.

The yell caught all of their attention. You took that as your que to run for the water. The sun was already setting and thankfully you chose a place where no one would disturb you all. You were almost to the water, looking back you saw all seven of them running after you. As soon as the water hit your feet you dove right in, they all stopped right at the edge.

“Y/n get over here, Now!” Yoongi yelled.

“Cut the shit lets go.” Hobi said after him.

“Come in and get me.” you smirked, putting your head back and swimming a bit farther.

“You’re being a brat right now and I’m not having it.” Taehyung said.

“Come in daddy, the water feels nice.” you rubbed your hands on your breasts pushing them up a bit.

“That's it.” Yoongi said before throwing his shoes off and running in after you.

A hint of regret sank in as Yoongi was not one to get into water. You really were in for it now.

“Are we gonna do this the easy way or hard way?” he said with a growl.

You looked him in the eyes almost pleading and to say sorry.

“Don’t be shy now kitten, you’re in for it now.” he chuckled, lifting you over his shoulders giving your ass a hard slap.

Walking past the others they just chuckled at the look on your face. You looked to them for help, but nothing.

The trip up to your room seemed like it took forever, the hallway seemed to look longer than usual. As soon as you were in your room he set you on the bed still showing some kindness but that would soon be over with.

“I’m going to grab something and I expect you to be laid down and spread out for me.” he said power within his words.

To say you weren’t turned on was an understatement. You were dripping. The dom in Yoongi was what you lived for. Just thinking about what he was going to do to you made you moan.

He re-entered the room with silk ropes in his hand. You knew them all too well. He had brought them from home.

“Wrists kitten.” he said.

You held them up.

“So obedient.” he cooed, tying the ropes tight but not too tight.

“I’m sorry baby.” you pouted as he kissed down your body.

“Apologies won’t save you now, little one.” he said, kissing your thighs.

He ran a finger down your folds causing you to buck forward.

“None of that.” he said looking up at you.

He began teasing you, his mouth was of an expert. He knew you were about to come just by how whiny you were getting. He stopped as soon as you were about to let go.

You let out a groan. Only to be flipped over.

“What did I tell you?” he said climbing on you, pulling you up by your hair causing you to moan. “You come when I tell you.” he let go of your hair.

You had arched your back waiting for him to do something.

“Yoongi?” you began. “Are you still the-” you yelled out at the feeling of him entering you.

“You really need to start behaving kitty.” he groaned, slapping your ass.

“But II-I like riling you up.” you moaned out best you could.

“Yeah?” he asked, picking up the pace.

You cried out.

“Be. A good. Girl.” he said between thrusts. “And you might be able to come.”

He kept pounding into you, you were sure the whole villa could hear you.

“I’m close baby.” you whined out.

“Hold on kitten, I'm always there.” he breathed out.

You were a moaning mess.

“Cum kitty.” he said running circles on your clit.

You screamed out reaching your high, soon after he followed with his.

He crawled up to you, untying your wrists.

“You really gotta listen baby.” he caressed your face.

“I just wanted to have some fun.” you pouted.

“I know,” he said. “Take a nap and I'll get you when dinner is ready.”

You nodded while closing your eyes. He smiled and kissed your head.

#imagines #imagine #bts mafia au #bts mafia fic #mafia bts #bts mafia imagine #bts imagines #bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #min yoongi

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Honest and Truly

Summary: Spencer has his prom 10 years late, but none of that matters when it's with the girl of his dreams.

Word Count: 4.8 k

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female (She/Her)-- Fluff

CW: Minimal vulgar language (PG-13)

Author's Note: This just might be my most favorite thing I've written in a very long time :) Also listen to the song I linked, it makes the title and the ending make more sense! thank you to @spookydrreid and @writhingintheroses for helping me a particular scene!!

Add yourself to my taglist! It makes it much easier for me :)

Honest and Truly

“A prom?” Spencer asks, realizing that the conversation had entered uncharted territory, a territory in which he had not a single clue how to navigate. Spencer, being a preteen in high school, never attended prom.

“Yes, Reid. A prom,” Penelope says, staring at him over the many monitors and stuffed cats that littered her desk, “It’s going to be so much fun!” she says, excitedly.

“That sounds like, uh, I’ll have plans that night,” Spencer tells Penelope, spinning around in the swivel chair as he eats his turkey and cheese sandwich. He usually enjoys their lunches together, but when Penelope gets an idea in her head, there’s no stopping her.

@s“Now I don’t believe that for a second, Reid. The only time that you have plans is when you’re with Y/N. And Y/N is going to be at this prom,” Garcia says, her pink glasses sliding down her nose. She winks at Reid, almost like she enjoys watching him squirm.

“How do you know that she’s going? Did she say she’s going?” Spencer asks, unable to conceal his eagerness that Y/N could be attending. Spencer might hate dancing and those fancy shoes that are too tight on his toes, but all that can be talked away if Y/N is there.

“Yes, she’s going because you’re asking her. That and I’m making everyone go,” Penelope says matter of factly.

Spencer opens his mouth, attempting to talk away Penelope’s suggestion. But Spencer Reid is a smart man and he knows better than trying to argue his way out with Penelope. Especially when it comes to Y/N. He might have an excellent poker face, but Spencer can’t hide his love for Y/N.

“I’m not going to ask her. You know she’ll think it’s because-” Spencer says, prepping for a long winded rant before the door of Penelope’s office swings open.

Y/N, with two coffees in hand, floats into the room like she’s walking on air. Or maybe it’s Spencer’s mind that’s floating when Y/N walks in. He can never tell. Whenever he’s near her, it’s like everything is sweeter, lighter and airier. Wordlessly, she passes the coffee to Spencer. Feeling her fingertips graze his reminds him of how pathetic he must be. He nods, telling her thanks, knowing that he’s unable to fully articulate just how grateful he is for the littlest things.

“Who are you not going to ask and to where, Spence?” Y/N says, leaning against the filing cabinets and sipping her coffee. Penelope, never one to be quiet, silently watches as Spencer and Y/N converse. Spencer looks up at her, feeling that light and airy feeling again. He brushes his hair that falls against his forehead nervously thinking of an answer.

“I- uh, I was thinking of asking my mother to come stay with me for a couple of weeks. You know, she hasn’t seen DC in a couple of years. And I do have some personal days banked,” Spencer says, telling Y/N a small white lie.

“She’s in Vegas, right?” Y/N asks, interested in what Spencer is saying, which is something that he’s still not used to. Spencer nods, smiling awkwardly.

“Yeah, she says that she likes the heat,” Spencer says, hating how formal and cold the conversation sounds. It’s normally flowing with easy and familiarity, but something is wedged between them. Penelope, long forgotten by the pair, types rapidly on her keyboard.

“You know, Spence. If you’re up for it maybe we can have lunch or meet at Elmwood Park. I’d love to meet the woman that made my favorite person,” she says, staring directly into Spencer’s eyes. Her stare is so intense that it’s like she’s looking into his soul. He thinks that if she looks deep enough she’ll see her own reflection because his soul belongs to her.

“I-I uh,” Spencer says, immediately thinking that he should actually invite his mother out for a visit, “I think that’s a good idea. She likes the sites and all,” he tells her nervously, trying to ease his beating heart.

He’s her favorite person.

Out of all the people in this city, this world. He’s her favorite person. Spencer, a lover of math, is tempted to figure out the odds of being his favorite person’s favorite person. He knows it’s slim. He knows it’s rare. It’s something magical and Spencer is terrified he’s going to ruin it. He’s terrified he’s going to fuck something up that’s not even his.

“It’s a date,” Y/N says, turning to Penelope, who’s still long forgotten, “Oh, Penny, you need to yell at Morgan for me. He ate my leftovers,” she tells Penelope, who feigns horror, “And now I don’t have lunch”

“How dare he!” Penelope says, her exaggerated response inciting chuckles, “he can get away with murder because he’s pretty,” she says, shaking her head.

He knows that she’s pretending to be disappointed, but he still doesn’t like to see it. Spencer unwraps the other half of his turkey and cheese sandwich and hands it to Y/N. She looks surprised, as if Spencer just handed her a million bucks.

“Spence, you don’t have to,” Y/N says, softly, handing back the half of the sandwich, “It’s your sandwich, I don’t want you to feel-”

“Eat it, Y/N,” Spencer says firmly, looking straight at Y/N, “You need to eat something. We both live off coffee as it is,” he says, hoping that Y/N will take the sandwich.

He’s looking straight at her and she’s looking straight at him. Spencer wonders if he looks deep enough he’ll reach her soul. He dares to think that if he can find her soul, he’ll stare at his face. He’s her favorite person after all, that’s got to count for something.

“Thanks, Spence,” Y/N says, smiling softly, “You make the best sandwiches,” she tells him, taking a bite of the sandwich as Garcia’s eyes flit from Spencer to Y/N. Back and forth, she watches the pair engage in the world’s best miscommunication.

“Y/N, did you hear? I’m throwing a prom!” Garcia says excitedly, hoping that Y/N’s reaction will be more enthusiastic than Spencer’s.

“A prom?” Y/N asks, unconvincingly, “God, I hated my prom. I got punched spilled all over my dress and my date tried to sneak alcohol into the banquet hall. It was a shitshow,” Y/N says, remembering the less than happy memories from high school.

“I didn’t go to prom. You know, between being a 12 year old and a dork,” Spencer says, self deprecatingly, “It’s not the ideal scenario, but I am familiar with the cultural significance of proms in American high school,” Spencer says, speaking to no one in particular, yet looking at Y/N directly.

“Maybe we’ll both get the prom night we deserve, Spence,” Y/N offers, tossing out her wax paper wrapper. She walks past him and it’s like the air is sweeter. He believes in science, but loves magic. Y/N is magic.

“Maybe,” Spencer says, refusing to make eye contact with Penelope, “you know, sorry to uh, cut this short. I have some paperwork to finish. Hotch’s been on me all day about it. So, uh, see you later,” he says, walking out of Penelope's office like a bat out of hell.

He tries to ignore the knowing stares from Penelope and Y/N’s confusion as he ducks out and walks into the bullpen. Spencer doesn’t have paperwork. He finished all his paperwork by 11:12 am. But what Spencer does have is a flight from Vegas to Quantico to book.

And prom shopping.

___

As it turns out, Spencer doesn’t know much about teenage American culture. Sure he’s seen 90s movies that Y/N forced him to watch. But it was quite difficult to pay attention when all he could feel was Y/N’s fingers brushing up against his in their shared bucket of popcorn or her head laying against his shoulder when she got tired.

He doesn’t know much of anything when it comes to romance. But he knows that he loves Y/N— and hopefully that’s enough. He still hasn’t asked her if she’d go with him. Honestly, he’s not too sure why he even has to ask her in the first place. She’s going to be there already, but Garcia and Morgan convinced him that it’s part of the so-called “Prom Experience”

“Spence,” Y/N says, she’s perched on the tall bar stool and rests her elbows on her kitchen island, “did you find a suit yet? I was thinking that we can go to that vintage store on Rock Ave. They have a surprisingly good size selection, and I think that this whole vintage thing fits your aesthetic really well,”

“My aesthetic?” Spencer questions, again lost at sea.

“You know, you’re like nerdy chic. Equal parts dorky and equal parts handsome,” she tells him. He feels his cheeks burn at her words.

Handsome

“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or not,” Spencer says, eyeing Y/N over the rim of his hot coffee.

“It is,” Y/N says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like him being handsome is just as obvious as him being dorky, “And get your wallet. We’re going to the vintage store,”

Spencer has a hate-love relationship with weekends. He loves spending time with Y/N where it was so easy to pretend that she loves him as he loves her. He hates the weekends for the same reason he loves them. Spencer knows that it’s all fake. It’s a façade of the truth.

“Spence! You’d look great in this,” Y/N suggests, holding up a gray sports coat, “I think it will match your eyes perfectly,”

“If you think so, Y/N,” Spencer says, nodding his head in agreement. She continues eyeing him as if she’s imagining what he’d look like in the jacket. He has to admit, it’s a very nice jacket.

“Come on, Spence. There’s a mirror over in the corner. Try it on for me,” she requests and not even a second later Spencer finds himself being dragged by the hand to try on the suit jacket.

Y/N holds the jacket open for him as he slips it on through his arms. He’s surprised to realize that it fits perfectly. He looks into the mirror, staring at his face and Y/N, who tugs and smooths the jacket. Spencer can’t look too much longer because if he does the lines between reality and fantasy will be difficult to distinguish. As much as he wants to stare into the mirror all day long, pretending that this is real, he much rather it actually be real. But wishing and dreaming only ends up with battle wounds and broken hearts.

“You look very handsome, Spencer. Very handsome,” Y/N says, staring into the mirror too now. But she’s not looking at the jacket, she’s looking at him. The beat of silence lasts longer than what’s comfortable, “Um, I think, I saw some pants that would look good on you, with this jacket, I mean,” she says, stumbling over her words. She’s not looking in the mirror any more, her gaze is noticeably away from Spencer and the mirror.

“Okay, uh, whatever you think, Y/N,” Spencer says, “I’m not even sure why I agreed to this thing. I don’t dance,” he says, regretting his choice to go to Penelope’s prom, but feeling guilty for maybe disappointing Y/N all in one breath.

“Did you ask her yet?” Y/N asks, holding up a pair of similarly gray colored pants. She must notice his confusion, “You know Austin, the woman you heroically saved. Does any of it ring a bell, Spence?” Y/N teases. Spencer feels his cheeks burn and his heart tighten, that happens a lot around Y/N.

“Oh Austin, uh no. She wasn’t interested in me, after all,” Spencer says, shifting his weight and staring at his converse, “I mean, I should have seen it coming. It’s transference, that’s like Psych 101,” he says, feeling strange. It was odd when Austin broke up with him, even if you can consider it breaking up. He felt a strange sense of relief when it happened, like a weight was lifted off his shoulders.

Y/N clicks her tongue in annoyance as she walks over to Spencer. Tugging slightly on the sleeves of the jacket she says, “well she’s not as smart as I thought she was. You have to be a complete fool to let someone like you go,” she says quietly. She’s standing too close, looking too beautiful, and seeming too perfect for Spencer to not be completely enamoured.

Then it breaks, like shattered glass. The rosey glasses are lifted, leaving only cheeks that sting with nervousness and hearts the yearn for something a little more tangible.

“Stop staring at me and go try it on,” Y/N says, handing him the pair of pants, “Oh and I’m going to look for a vest and a tie to match. This store is unbelievable,” she tells him, pushing him into the makeshift dressing room.

Spencer puts on the pants, which fit, despite being maybe an inch or two loose in the waist. He looks into the tall mirror, which is noticeably empty without Y/N standing with him. A floating hand, belonging to Y/N appears. She holds a burgundy tie and a dark brown vest, both of which are very Spencer. He smiles slightly, strangely happy that Y/N has picked something out that’s perfect for him.

“Tell me when you’re decent,” she says, her voice muffled by the curtain that separates them. He sticks his head out of the curtain, his eyes immediately finding Y/N’s.

“Ohh, Spence, you look amazing. Very handsome,” she says, her hands clasped around the tie, tugging just like she did with his suit jacket before, “What do you think?” she asks, looking at him curiously.

“It’s nice,” Spencer offers, approaching this like he does everything: cautiously, “I do like the texture,” he says, running his hands up and down the sleeves of the jacket.

“You look more than nice, Spence. I know I’ve said it like 30 times, but you look very handsome,” she says. Spencer hopes that she means it. He needs something to be real. Sometimes besides what he feels, because what he feels is the realest thing in the world.

“It’s nice to hear,” Spencer says, “you know from someone who’s not my mother,” he jokes, shrugging off the jacket and grabbing the hanger from Y/N.

“You deserve to hear it,” Y/N says so softly Spencer wonders if she’s saying it all. That beat of silence, followed by the awkwardness is back.

“So, uh, I saw a dress that I’m going to try on,” Y/N tells him, her gaze shifting everywhere but Spencer’s eyes.

“I’ll go pay for this,” Spencer says, walking back into the dressing room and the mirror that lies to his face.

___

Back in Y/N’s car, Spencer shifts in the passenger seat trying to find a way to sit comfortably while holding his suit jacket, pants and vest. Y/N hangs up her dress, that’s wrapped in a gown bag. She wouldn’t let Spencer see the dress, despite her practically picking out his entire outfit.

“So what’s next,” Spencer asks, as Y/N gets into the car. She smiles over at him sheepishly, leading Spencer to think she’s got another trick up her sleeve.

“I’ve got a confession, Spence. And please don’t hate me for it,” Y/N says, her voice coming out a little nervous as she eyes Spencer.

“I don’t think I could ever hate you, even if I tried. And I’m certain I’ll never have to,” he says softly, resting his hand over hers on the console. He rubs the back of her hand gently, thinking about just how easy things are with her. If he could only be a little braver, maybe then the mirror wouldn’t be so empty.

“Okay. I knew that things didn’t work out with you and Austin. I overheard you telling Derek,” Y/N confesses, “And I know that it makes me a horrible friend or whatever, but I’m sorry that I eavesdropped,”

“Oh, uh how much did you hear?” Spencer asks, suddenly quite nervous. He can feel his heart drop, waiting for the moment when Y/N laughs at the thought of her loving him. He knows that it’s not fair to her, but then again all is fair is love and war.

“Enough to know that you’re still hung up or or someone else. I left once my conscience got the better of me. Once a Girl Scout, always a Girl Scout,” she says, making the three finger salute that’s common in scouting, “I just wanted to hear it from you, you know you’re my favorite person and all,” she says, a frown forming.

“I think, uh,” Spencer says, “That I was just a little embarrassed. You know how Derek and Penelope and Emily and JJ can get. It’s basically just you and Hotch who aren’t jumping down my throat about being, you know, alone,” he says, chuckling awkwardly.

“They just want to help you, Spence. In their own ways, but I’m always on Team Spencer. You never got to worry about that,” Y/N offers, squeezing his hand.

He considers what she says, not responding verbally, but nodding his head. He hasn’t ever had someone on his “team”, so it’s strange. But a good kind of strange.

“Spence, you okay? I wanted to give you something. To be truthful, I’ve been thinking about how I was going to do this for awhile,”

“Ask me what?” he questions, wondering what she has in store. He watches as Y/N rummages in his bag, clearly looking for something. He’s thoroughly confused when she pulls out a TI-84.

“What on earth?” Spencer says, as she places the calculator in his hands. Her sly grin, beaming up at him only further proves his point: his heart just beats faster around her.

“Just shut and press the on button. You’d think that a genius would know how to work a calculator,” she comments, rolling her eyes playfully.

“You know, I never used these. I can just do it in my head faster,” Spencer says, winking at Y/N when she pushes him teasingly.

“God, Spencer just turn it on!” she demands, very apparently getting more and more impatient.

He turns the calculator on and is brought to a green screen that has a picture of a graph. Spencer raises his eyebrow, as if to ask Y/N for the next direction.

“Press the graph button,” she says, getting quieter as Spencer looks at her.

He presses the button that she said to, waiting for whatever is supposed to happen. Spencer watches as the screen draws four black lines running parallel to each other. A curved line is drawn on the first two black lines, forming the letters “P” and “R”. The screen continues to draw, making an oval that looks like an “O” and the last two parallel lines are joined together with a “v” shape, forming the letter “M”. He takes a second glance, reading the 4 letter word slowly.

P-R-O-M

“Well?” she asks, waiting for his answer.

He’s speechless. Spencer blinks. It’s like his brain has stopped working. It’s a prom, a stupid prom that’s 10 years too late. But it’s the girl of dreams that’s asking him. And that’s the stuff those rom-coms he couldn’t pay attention to are made of.

“I mean, of course. Of course, Y/N,” Spencer says, dropping the calculator into the cup holder and leaning in to hug Y/N.

His heart stops again. Falling into that tricky habit of either speeding up or stopping when she’s around. He thinks he’s ready to implode when she pecks his cheek. Her lips don’t linger, hardly touching his skin for it to be considered a kiss.

“I don’t think I’d want to go with anyone else,” she says, mumbling into his skin. She seals his fate with her lips against his skin. Never again will Spencer imagine what it’s like to have her lips against his skin. Even though it’s a fraction of the time he’d want, it’s tattooed in his mind.

“I’m not much of a dancer, by the way,” Spencer says, reluctantly letting go and sitting back into the passenger’s seat, “so don’t expect too much,” he jokes.

“Oh you better watch it, Doctor Reid. I’m getting you on the dance floor, even if you hate it,” Y/N says, smiling as she backs out of the parking spot and turns into the street.

Spencer looks out the window, thinking to himself that there’s probably nothing he can hate if he’s doing it with Y/N.

--

Spencer didn’t go to prom in high school. He didn’t do a lot of the traditional things that most former high schoolers reminisce about at his age. He didn’t go to football games or have a best friend to make lifelong memories with.

He didn’t have any of that, until now.

But it’s prom night, 10 years late. His hands are sweaty and his mouth feels dry. Spencer wasn’t this nervous for even his first day at the BAU all those years ago. He tries to fix the burgundy tie that Y/N picked out at the vintage store. It looks crooked and twisted. Nothing like when Y/N tied perfectly in the store for him. He supposes that he can wait till she comes to pick him up.

The mirror, again, is noticeably empty without Y/N standing beside him. He can get lost in there, thinking about her standing with him. He does, because it feels like seconds later when he hears a rapid knocking on his apartment door.

Standing on the other side of the door is Y/N. She wears a sage green dress that looks like it’s made of softest silk. He smiles at her, not sure if he can trust his words. Spencer doesn’t think he’ll be able to do much thinking when all he can focus on is the tiny straps that rest on her shoulders or how the sage green compliments her skin tone.

“You look, god. You’re beautiful,” Spencer says, partly under his breath partly aloud to Y/N, “so beautiful,” he says again, focusing on her eyes.

“And you’re looking very dashing in that suit, Spence,” she says, pushing her way in, “do you need help with your tie?” she asks, looking at the tie he holds in his hand.

“Yes, please,” he says sheepishly. He holds out the burgundy colored tie, but takes his hand back as an idea crosses his mind, “oh wait here, I’ll be right back,” Spencer says, walking quickly to his bedroom.

“Alright,” Y/N says sceptically, “Don’t ditch me, Reid!” she calls out from the living room.

Spencer returns, hiding the new tie behind his back. He places an olive green tie with dusty blue and pink flowers in her hands. He notices her smile grow, realizing that he’s picking a new tie for a reason.

“I might not know much about prom, but I think that we’re supposed to match. You know, since we’re going together,” he offers, “but I need help putting it on,” he says.

“We’re going to match!” Y/N says excitedly. As she unbuttons the first button on Spencer’s cream colored shirt he holds his breath. He can’t breathe when she’s this close. Her fingers are quick and nimble as they feed the tie around his neck and elegantly create a knot. If Spencer wasn’t already in love, he knows that watching her eyes twinkle and her tongue poke out as she concentrates would make him declare it then and there.

“So handsome,” she says, using that quiet voice that makes it seem like she’s talking to herself rather than him, “I can’t wait to dance with you,” she tells him tugging the tie.

“I’m not going to be good, Y/N. I’m going to be a fool,” Spencer says, lamenting already about what an idiot he’s going to look like in front of Y/N.

“That’s nonsense, Spence,” Y/N says, waving him away with a toss of her hand, “You’re going to be the best dancer there,” she tells him rubbing her hand up and down his arm, like she did at the store.

“Would you believe it, if I told you I never danced with anyone?” Spencer says, being the most honest and true he’s ever been.

“We can change that,” Y/N says, stepping towards Spencer and linking her hand in his. She squeezes, restarting and stopping his heart all in one go, “oh wait we need music,” she says, feeling around for where her phone usually is.

“I got it,” Spencer says, stepping away from Y/N. He walks over to the small record player in the corner of his living room. He doesn’t play it too often, the records he has were once his mother’s and they’re too painful to play most days. But Spencer’s sure that he can make every exception to all his rules for Y/N. Maybe he’ll get some happy memories out of it.

“Going old school I see,” Y/N says, teasingly as Spencer walks over grabbing both his hands in hers, “everything about you is very charming, Doctor Reid,” she says, softly swaying to the jazzy tunes of Sarah Vaughan.

“I’m not too sure about that,” Spencer says, following Y/N’s lead as she floats around his living room, carrying him everywhere she goes. She rests her head against his chest and Spencer swears that she’s going to get a concussion from how hard his heart beats.

They’re alone, no audience to witness the moment that Spencer wonders if he can dare to call intimate. It’s intimate to him because every moment with Y/N is intimate. Maybe if someone had told Spencer that dancing like this could bring pure paradise all the way from your fingertips to your eyelashes, maybe he would have done it sooner.

“You’re quite the romantic, Spencer,” Y/N says as the song comes to a close. The record player stops, but they don’t stop swaying, “And you told me you couldn’t dance,” she scoffs lightly, with her head still resting against his chest.

“Is that okay with you?” He asks, “me being romantic,”

“I don’t think that I’d want it any other way, Spencer,” Y/N says, removing her head from his chest and her hand from his. She cups his face, touching him lightly. Y/N holds him like he aches to be held. It’s gentle and tender, yet leaves him desiring more.

“Honest?” Spencer asks, daring to be brave.

“Truly,” she responds.

Spencer shifted slightly, so he can also hold her face in his hands. Y/N drops her hands though, wrapping them around Spencer’s waist to pull them closer together. Spencer’s phantom fingers are like that dance around that dance around Y/N’s skin.

It’s Y/N that initiates the kiss. She moves in slowly and tenuously, looking just as nervous as Spencer is. He’s shaky slightly, the anticipation getting to his head when all he can see is Y/N’s eyes looking into his and all he can think about is how soft her skin is. It’s all he’s ever wanted to think about. Her lips are soft and pillowy.

But it’s more than that.

Kissing her is everything to Spencer. It’s the breathy sighs she lets out as he moves his hands and rests them securely behind her neck. It’s the peachy scent of her perfume that’s so sweet and strong it should be overwhelming when all it is, is intoxicating. Kissing her is dizzying and terrifying, but wonderful and sweet. He can’t tell where his lips start and where her’s end, but it doesn’t matter.

He doesn’t open his eyes because he knows he’s facing the mirror. But unlike before, he doesn’t need a mirror to know what he’s looking at. He can look into his soul for that.

“Very romantic,” Y/N says, smiling through the quick kisses she plants on his jawline, “I always thought you’d be a romantic,” he tells him.

Spencer brushes his thumb over Y/N’s bottom lip. It’s puffy and bitten from his kisses, but he thinks that it would be a shame to not bite and kiss it some more. He smiles so hard he knows that he’ll wake up in the morning and his mouth will hurt. But that’s the least of his worries if Y/N’s there to kiss it better.

“Honest?” Spencer says, calling back to the song, that’s now their song.

“Truly,”

---

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[hockeywhy]

caught in the middle (1); m. barzal

SYNOPSIS: For the sake of your friend’s wedding with Tito, you and Mat agree to maintain the facade of still being the happy couple everyone sees you as. But the act comes with its consequences, one more taxing than the other. WARNINGS: language. WORD COUNT: 11.2k A/N: I am so excited for this because it contains some of the tropes I enjoy seeing in fics, and I was dying to also put out some new content as opposed to only reposting my old writing. I wish I wrote this when I was still decent at doing the thing, but I hope that this is still an enjoyable read that makes you look forward to the next part! Title is based off Alexander 23′s Caught in the Middle which is such a good song and I really recommend. Sections in italics represent flashbacks. 

PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

“We’re getting married!” 

You gasped, bringing both hands to cover the lower half of your face as your jaw dropped at the announcement. It shouldn’t be so surprising – you would’ve bet even your most prized possession that this was bound to happen at some point eventually – but knowing this was actually now a sure thing sent a thrill through you. It didn’t take long for the shock to wear off and in place of it, your expression mirrored that of your best friend’s: the wide grin, the bright eyes and of course, the giggles of sheer excitement as soon as the news sunk in. Elise was glowing and next to her, Tito embodied the idea of what the world’s proudest man would look like. 

“Oh my god!” you gasped, and Elise burst into laughter, not hesitating to jump out of her seat at the same time you did so that the two of you could embrace. Among your squeals and giggles, you could faintly make out the sound of hands being clapped, then caught sight of Mat and Tito hugging. Over Elise’s shoulder and over Tito’s, you and Mat exchanged smiles and you couldn’t help the chuckle that left your mouth as soon as he winked at you. “Congratulations!” you said as soon as you broke apart, though the two of you still held hands. Immediately, your gaze fell down to her hand where a ring now rested, and you couldn’t help but wonder how you hadn’t taken notice of it earlier. “Just—when? How? Where? Who else knows?” 

“We don’t have a date or venue set yet, but we wanted you and Mat to be the first to know,” Elise informed you as soon as you took your seats again.

“We have a favour to ask from both of you,” Tito supplied. As soon as he said it, you felt Mat’s hand wrap around your own and the two of you exchanged a brief look during which he squeezed your hand gently, before diverting your attentions back to the soon-to-be newlyweds. 

Newlyweds. The immensity of the word sent a discrete shiver down your spine. 

“I can’t imagine asking this of anyone else: I want you to be my best man,” Tito directed at Mat.

“You shouldn’t even think of asking this of anyone else,” Mat responded immediately, and the two shook hands on it. You couldn’t help but think that if they weren’t as comfortable as they were now, they’d probably hug again, do their typical pats on the back or fist bump as they usually did, but Elise’s head now rested on Tito’s shoulder and Mat’s hand was so warm, so firm atop your own. 

“Be my maid of honour, please?” Elise asked. “I can’t think of anyone more suitable than you and Mat as best man and maid of honour. We’ll return the favour of course,” she added playfully. 

“I’ll hold you to that,” you warned without hesitating because after all, you had no reason to – and you knew Mat would agree with you. 

Although the two of you hadn’t touched on the subject yet, there was an unvoiced knowledge shared between you that eventually, this would also be you. Eventually, Mat would ask you and your heart would grow and your soul would warm, and you would say yes. Yes, yes, yes. 

As you all settled down to hear a replay of how Tito popped the question and Elise accepted the ring, Mat’s thumb began caressing the back of your hand. Though the gesture wasn’t a novelty, you couldn’t help but take notice of the way your heart fluttered each time he seemed to linger more on your ring finger. It wasn’t difficult to imagine a ring wrapped around it but neither of you were in a rush: you simply waited for the right time to take your relationship to a point in which it would become a forever thing, fully confident it wasn’t a question of ‘if’ but rather, ‘when’.

*

This was anything but the right time. 

You frown as you cast a glance down at the phone resting on your lap, eyes narrowing a little at the name which brought the display to life for the second time in the space of less than a minute. You click the side button twice, silencing the vibrations of it and from your side, your colleague leans in to whisper to you. 

“You can take it if it’s urgent. I’ll fill you in afterwards.”

“Thanks,” you whisper back. “I think it can wait until the meeting wraps up though.” 

Luke gives you a well, if you’re sure look as he leaned back in his chair and you flash him a grateful smile. 

Still, it is difficult for you to settle comfortably in your seat again and much to your chagrin, you find yourself crossing and uncrossing your legs as if the call had sent some sort of signal to your entire body kickstarting jitteriness you can honestly do without. Not long after you find some comfort and energy to draw yourself back to the present, your phone buzzes again – only once this time, indicating a message. 

I’m waiting for you in the lobby.

Fuck, you curse inwardly, locking the phone in frustration. As quietly as you can, you gather your notebook and work tablet then lean in towards Luke who met you halfway. “Have to run but let me know if I miss anything important.”

“At the current rate, I wouldn’t count much on it but will do anyway,” he states as quietly as he can and the two of you exchange sly, conspiratorial smiles before you excuse yourself quickly and very quietly while making a swift exit. 

Internally, a string of curses follow without a break in between, and you have to physically bite down on your lip out of sheer fear one might unconsciously slip out. If anyone would be in your shoes, though, they wouldn’t blame you for it. You are the type of person to stick closely to any plans and agreements made, so the fact that he just chose to turn up so unexpectedly doesn’t sit right with you. Not anymore, that is. Besides, you had both agreed to do this after your workday ended as opposed to midday and definitely not in this place. Now, you have to brace yourself for coping with a foul mood on top of whatever else the rest of the day would throw at you. 

“You’ve got a visitor,” Rachel announces quietly in a sing-song voice from behind the reception desk as you approach. She doesn’t bother masking the giddiness in her tone and you struggle to work up as genuine of a smile as you can when she nods her head towards the waiting area.

“Thanks, Rach.”

“Bet he must be so happy your redeployment to the Baltimore offices was cut short so quickly,” she coos. 

“Sure is. We’re still on for tonight?” you ask quickly in an attempt to drive attention away from the subject before she can try to lead into it too far for your own comfort at the moment. 

Rachel’s smile falters a little, her expression somewhat quizzical. “Don’t you want to postpone so you could spend some time with him? You only just got back yesterday, after all.” 

You swallow uncomfortably before shrugging. “We’ve got plenty of time to do that. So tonight, okay? I’ll catch you later.” 

“Your call. See you then, Y/N!”

You only had just a split second to brace yourself for what is ahead of you, so you draw in a breath then slowly exhale it as discreetly as you can while cutting your way across the lobby. Since agreeing to this meeting, you prepared yourself as best as you could, imagining every single scenario and devising the appropriate plan for it: from the way you presented yourself to what you said, you had a mental plan for everything including a few backups just in case. The only thing you hadn’t factored in, apparently, was how little was under your control and you hated that. Each step you take made you feel less and less prepared for what is ahead, and the thought rattles you. If you were swift enough on your feet, you could just about make a quick turn and dip into the hallway leading to the visitor restrooms. All you need is just a few more seconds. A little alone time for you to run over your lines in your head. 

Except—

Mat looks up at the same time you take a step sideways, ready to bolt towards temporary safety. His eyebrows rise a little as if surprised by the sight of you, but you refuse to appear outwardly deflated by the turn of events. Instead, you square your shoulders, tip your head back a little and arch an eyebrow. You can do this. You note he is dressed casually, and his hair is pushed back underneath a black cap. 

Unless there was a change in schedule, Thursdays were scrimmage days. 

Your jaw clenches ever so slightly as you recall that with so much ease. Then again, you basically built up a collection of information that was practically helpful or useful to exactly no one over the course of the past few years. It’ll probably take just as much or maybe more to replace that with something different, so you try cutting yourself some slack whenever you are willing to.

“I thought we agreed on five thirty,” you state coolly, pitching your voice at just the right tone to also express surprise.

Mat pushes up from the armchair, returning whatever magazine he’d picked up back on the nearby glass table. “Sorry, I tried calling earlier this morning to ask if we can reschedule but it went straight to voicemail.” 

Oh. You mentally curse yourself for not charging your phone as soon as you made it home from the airport the previous night or bothering to check the voicemail message you’d been notified of once it did begin charging earlier this morning at your desk.

“They rescheduled the viewing of the new arena for this evening, and I was in the area, so I thought I’ll drop by just in case,” Mat continues, throwing a cursory glance around the place though to you, it seemed more like a way of having a break from the eye contact. You don’t complain; you welcome that. 

You open your mouth, ready to berate his poor timing but even you could admit you carry some fault here too. Only a little. You bite down lightly on the tip of your tongue, before nodding towards the seats though you didn’t wait for Mat; you sit, deciding he could make up his own mind if he wanted to follow or not. 

“How was Baltimore?” he asks after a few moments of awkward silence while settling in the same armchair he previously occupied. 

“Mat,” you say, hoping it comes across as more of a warning than a plea. You can’t deal with small talk and a part of you thinks that’d make the entire deal even more difficult to go through with. He presses his lips together into a thin line and you take that as your sign to continue. “Elise told me she’d like us to be at the venue a day in advance of the rehearsal dinner if we can. I’ve already arranged my leave for that, so it’s not a problem for me. I’m planning on making my way there sometime tomorrow afternoon.” 

“We can go together then. I can pick you up after work.” 

“There’s no need—”

“Y/N.” The sharpness of his tone catches you off guard and you can swear Mat was equally surprised by that, though only for the briefest of moments. He slides forward a little in the seat almost as if he is more than ready to leave but Mat has  never been one to back down so easily and you doubt any of that changed during the course of the past three months or so. “You were the one who insisted we go through with this and I’m trying. I really am, but you’re not giving me anything to work with. So please. Let’s just put everything to the side, do what we need to do and then it’s done.” 

Done. Like it is a task, like it is something you needed to cross off a to-do list, scrunch it up then trash it.  

The finality of the word is so heavy that it feels as if it had managed to knock out all the air in your lungs. You and Mat were running headfirst towards a fork in the road, and deep down you knew that was truly it. If until now the two of you have been dancing around each other, playing pretend as if you were kids living in a world of fantasy, you know that eventually, you have to let light shine on the truth: whatever lay ahead, you and Mat could no longer walk the same paths. It is just a matter of admitting it not only to yourselves, but also to the people you were lying to. 

Lying for, you prefer. 

Defeated, you slump in your own seat a little, legs crossing and fingers tapping lightly against the back of your notebook. “Be at my place by two. I’ll have everything that I need ready the night before so we won’t need to wait around.” A pause, and then, “how’s Tito?” 

Mat lifts a shoulder in a casual shrug. “Excited. Nervous. It’s the only thing he talks about in the locker, outside of it, on ice and off ice. How’s Elise?” 

“Same deal with her. I never knew there were so many shades of blue before, but I’ve been proven wrong before.”

A pause follows that could easily be attributed to the group of people rushing into the building and allowing noise from the street outside to filter in while the doors were kept open, but you can tell there is more to it than that if you are to go by the shift in Mat’s expression. His expression changes and you find you can’t quite read into it or guess what could be going on through his head. You try not to focus much on the little voice inside your mind that was bothered by it but find it takes a considerable amount of effort to do so. Force of habit, you conclude. 

“You don’t say,” Mat finally responds. There is a hint of accusation in his tone. Or regret. Maybe both.

Your lips press together firmly, a light frown forming on your face but chose to let that slide. Not only is the lobby of your workplace the least suitable place to have an argument about the two of you, but you find that even those short moments of seeing Mat face to face months after you called it quits appears to take a toll on you. You feel tired, worn out and willing to be the first one to back down for once. 

It is cruel irony that a big red neon EXIT sign is visible from the corner of your eye.

You release a quiet, long sigh then stand up from the seat. “Well, I guess we’re done here? I do have another meeting to prepare for, so…” You trail off, already backing away a few steps.

Mat opens his mouth as if ready to say something else but promptly presses his lips together, deciding against it. He gives a swift nod of his head then stands up. It’s then you notice the two Styrofoam cups in front of him and the neon EXIT sign imprinted in your mind starts flashing temptingly at you. Mat is a step ahead. He holds out one of the cups towards you and you are ready to tell him off for it, but he cut in.

“Thought I wouldn’t drop by empty handed.” When you don’t make a move to accept it, his eyes briefly peek behind you. “Rachel’s all eyes this way, by the way,” he informs you and a brief glance over your shoulder confirms Mat hasn’t been lying.

As soon as you turn to look towards the reception desk, Rachel grins, waves quickly at you then turns back to her computer screen. Begrudgingly, you accept the cup of coffee and force a tight smile. 

“See you soon,” you say by way of greeting and didn’t wait to hear a response from Mat. 

It isn’t until you scan your pass to cross the security barriers and make a turn out of sight that you take a sip from the drink and almost immediately wish you didn’t. It’s your order to a T. The two of you even brought a coffee machine that would let you replicate it on days when you didn’t feel like leaving the comforts of your apartment, especially days when Mat didn’t need to get up early for practices or scrimmages or evening games. It stayed with Mat when you left and the memory left a bitter taste in your mouth, despite the gentle sweetness of the beverage. 

Without thinking twice, you throw the cup in the nearest trash can. 

*

As soon as your order is set on the table, you ignore the basket of fries and reach straight for your glass to take a long sip from the straw, letting out a content sigh as soon as you felt satiated enough.

“Long day,” you state in response to Rachel’s raised eyebrows but she seems to accept that by raising her own glass. You clink yours against hers, take a smaller sip then set it back down on the table. “What time do you think you’ll make it over to the hotel?” 

“Well, I was thinking of trying to get there by midday on the day of the rehearsal dinner but it’s starting to look more like late afternoon. I’m…” She trails off, and you can just about pick up on her hesitation and the way her gaze shifts over to the side momentarily as if avoiding something or considering whether to continue that. You move in your seat, peeling your back away from the plush backrest to lean in a little closer.

“You’re…” you trail off, voice peaking just a little into a question in an attempt to prompt her to continue.

Rachel takes a deep breath in, shoulders visibly drooping and when she looked back at you, she did so with a look that could only reflect…shame? Embarrassment? 

“Luke and I are sort of thinking of coming along together.” At the sight of your widened eyes, she quickly adds, “just as friends! We’re still working out through a few things and we’re taking it slow. As in, much, much slower than the first time around.”

“No way! That’s… Rach, that’s so good. I’m happy for you both, seriously.” 

You find that you truly believed that, though it wasn’t a surprise to you. You had introduced Rachel to Luke while she visited you in Baltimore and at the time, he worked with you there also. Initially, you didn’t think much of it - you simply invited her to come along to a few after work drinks and the two kicked it off easily that night. Very easily apparently, because as the night started coming to an end, Rachel prompted you to go ahead without her. Ready to say you weren’t going to leave her own her own, you shortly found out exactly why: you watched with plenty of amusement and fascination as she and Luke climbed into a taxi together and whizzed off to his place, undoubtedly. That was pretty much their start and continuation. Her visits to Baltimore were more frequent and though you were seeing her often enough, it definitely wasn’t as much as Luke saw of her. And you were fine with that. They fit almost perfectly and it only took a few more meetings for them to label themselves as a couple. 

Things began crumbling as soon as Luke had moved to the New York office just a few weeks before your own return. While he seemed fine with the idea of Rachel working in the same place, that wasn’t also her take on things.

“It’s weird,” she told you through the phone. “It just… It’s so weird. I’d be seeing him at my place or his and in the office? No thanks. That’s way too much for me, you know?” 

It made sense, of course, and though you rooted for them, you didn’t want to push her into something she wasn’t comfortable with. Yet, there was a tremble to her voice, a sort of uncertainty that made you think otherwise. It wasn’t that Rachel didn’t have any feelings for him - maybe she was simply shocked to see him walk through those glass doors one morning to pick up his brand new ID and claim what would soon become his permanent desk across from yours. 

“Thanks,” she tells you, pulling you back into the present. “But like I said, slow and easy does it. We’ve been talking more and that makes a huge difference.” 

“For sure. If communication isn’t the backbone of a relationship, I don’t know what is,” you agree and wasn’t that ironic? You’re hardly in the position of giving any relationship advice at all or saying what is good for one and what isn’t. Not anymore. Not when your own had fallen apart. 

Rachel grins. “You’d know. You and Mat have been together for… how long now?” 

You should’ve seen it coming a mile away. You swallow uncomfortably, take another sip of your drink and take a few fries just to buy yourself a little more time. “Maybe four years? Don’t really keep track of that anymore,” you said as casually as you could muster, lifting your shoulders in a shrug. 

“I think I’d stop doing that eventually too at the rate you two are going. Honestly, I would’ve bet anything you would’ve been the first to tie the knot. Actually, thinking about it,” she says, clicking her fingers in recollection, “Elise said the same thing to me the other day when we caught up on the phone. She went—“

You don’t really register her words. There is a low ringing in your ears and an uncomfortable draft sweeps in the locale as the entrance door somewhere behind you is being kept open, no doubt a large group making their way in; it sends shivers down your body, but really, you are pretty sure you can’t only attribute them to a brief gust of wind. After all, your sweater is keeping you sufficiently cosy and warm. In front of you, Rachel continues praising your relationship with Mat, talking about how anyone took a look at you both and would say, whatever they have going, I want it too and you are trying so, so hard to block out as much as you can of it. You can stop her, of course; distract her with whatever random topic and you know she’d go with it but your jaw is locked in place, teeth clenched uncomfortably. You blame that and the way your nails dig into the palms of your hands on the sting behind your eyes and the sudden heaviness weighting down on your chest. 

It isn’t so much the pain of your relationship ending that was rendering you in a state of daze, but the shame of what you and Mat agreed to do: pretend the two of you were still the happy couple Elise, Tito and everyone else thought of you as just to not spoil whatever luck they thought you’d be passing on to them by being their main witnesses. And then, once the event passes and they would return to New York from the honeymoon you and Mat would soon gift to them on their wedding day, you’d tell them the truth. Or part of it anyway. Definitely no mentions that the two of you were childish enough to play pretend; just a simple, clean break timed just perfectly with your request to be permanently redeployed elsewhere. Preferably, as far from New York City as possible so that you no longer have to walk the streets you once both did or yearn to once again visit that perfect pie place the two of you once dubbed your own.

“We’re not together anymore.”

The words stumble out of your mouth in a desperate now or never manner. Despite the anxiousness that came with the act, you find relief in it also. It feels freeing to be able to admit the truth to someone that isn’t only yourself though perhaps you should’ve thought of this more carefully: the idea of now needing to come fully clean to Rachel is somewhat daunting, mostly because of what she might say in response to the front you and Mat are trying to uphold. But for the first time in what feels like too long, you no longer feel like a fraud; like a person lying to everyone around them.

“Wait.” Rachel frowns, and it was obvious she doesn’t quite know what to do with that information or how to best process it. Her head tilts a little, palm idly rubbing against the side of her neck so you take the initiative to come across as unbothered by this as possible by leaning into the seat, legs crossing as you fiddled with the drink’s straw. “What? I’m confused. Didn’t Mat just drop by earlier? You two seemed okay. He was…fine when he came in. We didn’t talk much, sure, but he was all smiley and just…normal.” 

You laugh quietly and shortly. “It’s been a while now. Maybe two or three weeks before I left for Baltimore, I think. It’d be pretty worrying if he was still hung up about it. After all, we both agreed on it. And this,” you add, a little more disheartened and embarrassed. “This…thing we’re doing. We promised Tito and Elise we’ll be there for them on their big day and we will. But they had this… I guess, idea of us being an ideal couple. Whatever that is,” you continue more quietly and with a roll of your eyes. “He wanted to tell Tito, but I didn’t want to spoil Elise’s day, you know? So he agreed. Took some convincing because it feels so… Gosh, it sounds so stupid, doesn’t it? Pretending we’re still together just to spread some fake cheer around.” 

“Oh, honey…” Rachel whispers and you read the sympathy in her voice. Not that she makes it particularly difficult to take note of. “But… I thought everything was okay. Actually, way more than okay. Perfect, even. What…uh—“ She trailed off awkwardly, but you could easily fill in that gap.

What happened?

You bring the beverage to your mouth, this time drinking from the glass directly as opposed to using the straw. The mixer stings your throat this time around but the small ice cube you take into your mouth numbs it away pretty quickly. Slowly, you chew it to small pieces and speak only when you finish it.

“I thought long and hard about this the first few weeks after we called it quits,” you admit. “We always talked about what bothered us or if there was something on our mind, but at one point we just… We stopped wanting to compromise. When I was put forward for Baltimore, it was going to be a permanent thing. Mat was happy, sure, but I could tell he wasn’t being entirely honest with me, you know? When I called him out on it, he asked me well what about us? And I said we’d be fine. Baltimore isn’t a different continent. It’s not even a different timezone. He could come over when he had free time and if he didn’t, I’d always spend weekends in New York anyway. It’s Baltimore, Rach. Not fucking San Francisco or whatever. Eventually, he told me exactly what was on his mind: he couldn’t do long distance. Not even for a short period of time while I figured out if Baltimore is really what I wanted. Isn’t it a bit hypocritical, though?” You question, but it’s clear Rachel feels a bit awkward about giving her take on it right now, so you make it easier for her by responding to your own question. “I felt lonely too when he was on the road. I was worried he’d find someone different, someone much better while away. He never gave me a reason to doubt him, but a small part of me still thought what if. This happened right before he was on the road again, actually. We didn’t call, barely even texted those weeks and then when he returned, we decided it’d be best to break up. Didn’t take us a long discussion to get to that conclusion because at that point, it just… I don’t know. It felt like we didn’t have much to say to each other.”

Rachel presses her lips together, the frown still on her face and hesitantly, she asks, “who said it first?”

“I did,” you respond without hesitating. “He wanted a break while we work it all out but come on, Rach, a break? Look me in the eyes and tell me people really believe in breaks and they come back to each other as if nothing happened.” 

“I mean…” she trails off, pointing at herself by way of explanation. “Look at me and Luke, I guess.”

You shake your head. “Nope. Not the same thing, trust me. This was for the best, Rach. It’s much neater to call it quits. That way, neither of us will feel obliged to hold back if life puts something different ahead of us.” You pause for a moment, teeth biting into your lower lip. “They said they’ll always have me back there if I decide on it, so who knows. Once I wrap up the project their called me back for, I might just take them up on it. Not quite a promotion, but it’ll be a good sidestep and maybe a change of scenery is what I need.”

“And do you think it’s good? What the two of you are doing right now?” Rachel questions, not at all deterred by your weak attempt at trying to divert conversation to a more work related topic. “And I don’t mean it just for Elise and Tito’s wedding, but for you and Mat generally speaking. I mean… the two of you have been together for a pretty long time. Doesn’t it… Isn’t it odd?” 

“It’s not normal, that’s for sure,” you confirm. “But it’d be weirder for everyone if we were to tell them we’re no longer together given we’ve been asked to do what we need to do. Rach, promise me this stays between us, okay? Promise. I know how it sounds, I know how it’ll look but trust me on this, okay?” 

She fixes you with a sceptical stare, a look that holds yet more questions than certainty but eventually, she nods her head and relief washes over you at the gesture. “I’m sorry it happened, Y/N,” she offers, voice warm and sympathetic as she places a hand on the table palm up. “And I’m sorry you went through it alone.”

You smile softly and reach for it, returning the squeeze she gives you. There is comfort in the gesture, comfort in her words and you find yourself rooting for it, so grateful to have received it. “The worst part is over, but thank you, Rachel. “It means a lot.”

“Feel like carpooling with Luke and I?”

“I’m good,” you assure as you both relax back into your seats. “Elise wants us there the day before the rehearsal. I guess just to have some familiar faces around that aren’t just wedding planners, so Mat and I agreed to go together tomorrow. Promise I won’t lose my shit if our song plays on the radio,” you add jokingly and find yourself laughing along with Rachel. 

“What song’s that?” 

Too many, you think, although one in particular stands out to you. “Brett Young’s In Case You Didn’t Know.”

*

A tray containing an assortment of dishes is set on the table and shortly after, an ice cold pitch of sangria accompanies that. Eager to cool down, you reach for one of the empty glasses to pour yourself a drink but Mat’s quicker. He takes them both, filling your glass first before his own. You laugh to yourself and Mat grins at that, briefly looking towards you as he fills his glass. You’re about to take a sip, eager to both quench your thirst and cool down but Mat takes the initiative of initiating a toast by raising his glass a little, elbow resting on the table. 

“What’re we toasting for tonight?” You ask, imitating his pose by leaning forward a little. “To our first holiday together? To how perfect the weather’s been so far? To how I mastered paddle boarding way before you did?” 

Mat laughs, lowering his head as he did so but when he looked back up at you, he clinked his glass against yours and held it there. “To all of that. To one of the many, many holidays we’ll have together. To this moment right here, to us, to you.” He pauses and the strobe lights of the bar switch from dark blue to hot pink, and the way Mat stares at you in this moment makes your heart race inexplicably. “To how much I love you.” 

He takes your breath away. Draws it right out of your lungs and you feel heady. It’s the first summer with Mat, the first  I love you from him and it suddenly feels as if this bar is too small for the both of you. You love him, and he loves you too and the only thing you could imagine doing is jumping in his arms but there’s a table between you and sangria topped wine glasses in your hands, and he’s wearing a pristine white shirt that looks incredible against his tanned skinned and there’s a lot of people around (the majority significantly older than both your age and Mat’s combined) so you simply grin and carefully lean forward more, pressing a kiss to his mouth. 

“I love you,” you murmur against his lips and even if your voice is low compared to the loud, cheesy country music blasting through hidden stereos, you know Mat catches on to that. 

“I love you,” he says right back and before you pull away, he bumps his nose against yours gently, making you giggle.

You both take a sip of your drinks and you smack your lips together, content with the turn of the night. 

You and Mat had been dating for a few months, but this was the first time the two of you will spend back to back nights and days together without needing to rush somewhere. Of course, a part of you was anxious about it - while it was easy to spend a few hours together now and then, maybe even the odd night together, it was entirely different being together pretty much all the time. There were habits and quirks you each had that might get in the way, but your worries were soon put to rest. You and Mat had wonderful chemistry together, easily able to spend your time together but also still enjoy each other’s company while doing separate activities. You didn’t want to rush into things and you made no move to do so, but it was ever so easy to imagine what living with Mat would be like. And sure, you were well aware of the fact that it wouldn’t always be sunshine and rainbows; the two of you would eventually transition out of this honeymoon-type period of your relationship, but something told you life would Mat would never bore you. It’d never make you wish for anything different. 

“Give me a second,” Mat says and before you could ask him what he meant, he’s out of his seat and you follow him across the bar, a little confused. 

He makes his way past the bar, past the pool tables and stops in front of what is undoubtedly a jukebox. Curious, you arch an eyebrow and watch as he fiddles with finding the right amount of change before inserting the coins in the slot. It takes him a while before he finds whatever song it is he wants and it takes enough time for him to make it back to your table before the jukebox and sound system registers the request. You don’t recognise the first few notes at all, much less the accompanying guitar strings but you don’t have time to search your memory for a title. 

Mat stops by your side, holding a hand out to you. “Dance with me.” It’s more statement than question and under any circumstances, you may have felt a little awkward about doing this, but it’s the heat of the moment and your giddiness that pushes you to your feet, hand in Mat’s. 

The two of you are beaten to an emptier area in the establishment by two other much older couples that were closer to it anyway, and you find that gives you a bit more of a boost also. Mat pulls you to him, wrapping one arm around your waist while holding on to your free hand while you hold on to his shoulder with the other. Your fingers lightly clench and unclench the soft material of his shirt, lowering your head a little and you smile against the back of your hand. It’s so painfully cheesy and there’s nowhere near enough other people dancing along to the song but you love it much more than you thought you ever would. 

“Know what I’d invest all my money into?” He asks you suddenly.

You pull back a little, still swaying along with the song. “Cryptocurrency seems like a safe bet right now.” 

Mat laughs, that big hearty laugh of his that makes your smile wider and when it passes, he presses a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Well, I’m glad one of us has a good head on their shoulders, but no.” He shakes his head, then laughs again, shorter and quieter as if recalling your response. “A time machine. I want to stop time right here and right now so that we can be as we are for a little while longer.”

“Cheesy,” you joke, despite the warmth coursing across your entire body and the jelly-like feeling forming in your knees. “But perfectly understandable.”

“Eventually, we wouldn’t need it, but it’d be nice to have one for tonight.”

“Eventually? How so?” You question, then narrow your eyes a little, the gesture playful. “You plan on getting bored of me and breaking up?” 

“What!” He exclaims and pulls you in just that much closer. He lets go of your hand only so he could bring his to your chin, tipping your head back a little. “Never,” kiss, “say that,” kiss, “again.” The final kiss you share with him is a little longer and you take the liberty of bringing your hand to his chest, palm pressing against it to feel the thump of his heart against his ribcage momentarily. Then, slowly, you graze the tips of your nails along his exposed collarbone and peck his lips once more before pulling away. It’s then that the song’s name and artist comes to your mind, almost as an afterthought. From hidden speakers, Brett Young declares I couldn’t live life without you and Mat gives you a pointed stare. “Damn, he said it before I could.” 

“It’s the thought that counts,” you assure him. “Either way, I think I prefer hearing it from you, Barzal.” 

“I’m pretty sure I couldn’t live without you,” he recites and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. He sways you both in a more exaggerated manner that makes you cling to him more out of habit than necessity. You’ve known you’d trust Mat with anything, but each day, he seems to do something that makes that thought solidify more and more in your mind. The comfort and safety that brings wraps around you like a warm blanket.

Be it the hot weather, the somewhat stifling interior of the bar, the sips of sangria on an empty stomach, the euphoria of the moment or all things combined, you nod quickly. And from somewhere in the depths of your mind, the very bottom of your heart, you respond with, “I can get used to this day after day. So don’t let me go, baby.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he whispers, tone full of care and love and warmth. He gives you his promise without hesitation and you know it’s bound to stick.

*

Your phone buzzes once. 

I’m downstairs. Need help with your bags?

You push up from the comfort of your couch and make one last round of your apartment to make sure you had everything you definitely needed from where it was placed. 

I’m good. Will be down in a minute, you text back but don’t pocket your phone right away. Instead, you stare at the screen for a little while longer, half tempted to scroll through the thread of messages. They’d provide a stark timeline of when things started going wrong and you would probably be able to see exactly how things changed between the two of you from the moment you suggested a mere break wouldn’t do it. But doing that would be like breaking a streak you had going for sufficient time to earn a pat on your back. The journey of getting to a point where you were sufficiently okay with being in Mat’s presence without any other company was a long one and the last thing you needed was to recall how it once was. 

You and Mat started out as friends after Elise introduced the two of you just a short while before he started his professional career with the Islanders. She talked about how the two of them met in school and how great of a guy he was; real down to earth, funny and incredibly ambitious - traits she also assigned to you, and therefore thought the two of you would get along great. She wasn’t wrong about it. You knew a little about hockey, going to games every now and then mostly whenever Elise dragged you along but you found that Mat made the game more enjoyable. He explained it to you in a manner that didn’t make you feel belittled or as if it should be something you already knew of, and didn’t mind explaining some things more than once. On the other hand, you introduced him to your own hobbies and the little world you created for yourself in a city as big and busy as New York. You showed him the more lowkey but homely establishments, including your favourite pizza place that - unbeknown to you at the time - would become yours and his, and even took him to a few student bars where you regularly beat him at pool while he showed off at darts. Occasionally, it felt weird to watch him unwind in such…normal places and ways while on other days, he shone on ice and was easily one of the best rookies emerging from one of the country’s most well known sports leagues. Yet despite that, you found that athlete Mat wasn’t all that different from Mat the person.

He never put a front and his genuine manner was refreshing to you, particularly during a time when you were still a college student and a good portion of the guys around were textbook frat boys. Being around Mat was comfortable and safe. You didn’t feel the need to speak a certain way or be a different person, and retrospectively, the way you felt towards him developed almost organically. You felt yourself gravitating towards him and were pleasantly surprised by the moments when he’d seek you out first. A day off here and a day off there until eventually, you found yourself spending much of your free time with him and vice-versa. 

Falling in love with Mat was easy. Being without Mat was difficult. But, thankfully, not impossible apparently. 

Convinced you packed everything you needed, made your way out with a duffle bag on your shoulder and a suitcase at your heels. 

True to his word, Mat was parked in front of your place and as soon as you pushed open the building’s door, he looked up from his phone and made his way over to you. The last thing you needed was to make the journey any more awkward or difficult for the both of you, so you didn’t argue when he took the bags from you to stow them away in the trunk. 

“Are you going across the country?” You ask, peeking into the trunk while he plays Tetris with the bags. 

“What?” He questions, evidently distracted by the task at hand but straightens up when you delicately place a hand on his arm, pushing him to the side a little. 

“You’d think you’re going across the country for like, two or three weeks rather than a couple of days,” you repeat. “Maybe put that smaller bag sideways? That might let the bigger suitcase fit.” 

He follows your guidance and sure enough, that does the trick: the suitcases fit perfectly in the trunk and you grin to yourself, triumphant. 

Mat steps back, closing the trunk and brushes his hands together. “Thanks,” he says and you nod, heading towards your seat in the front. He follows you inside just as you click in your seatbelt. “I don’t think it’ll take us more than two or three hours to get there if traffic’s as good as it was when I checked it a little while earlier. Got everything?” 

“Everything important that is. Everything else, I’ll just worry about and pull my hair out when we get there,” you tell him and you can’t help feeling proud for being able to keep conversation light and as normal as you can. 

After all, you’ve known life before Mat and you’re rediscovering it after him too. 

Mat laughs ever so quiet, and from the corner of your eye, you catch him brushing his hand across his mouth though he’s a few seconds too slow in trying to mask his smile. 

“I think I’ll need to fill up soon, but let me know if there’s anywhere else you want to stop along the way,” he tells you while pulling out of the parking spot. 

You nod even if he probably might not see it and take the liberty to scroll through radio stations. Mat doesn’t seem to be against it, so you continue switching to them until, a little frustrating that nothing seems to work for you, you connect your phone to the car and play one of your playlists. A mix of upbeat pop and an assortment of viral tracks fill in the silence for a while, and the act of singing along in your head takes your mind away from how it almost feels as if you’re sitting on needles. It takes a conscious effort on your behalf to remind yourself to loosen your shoulders and stop fiddling too much with your hands, and you’re glad Mat seems to be plenty preoccupied with driving. Once upon a time, he would’ve immediately picked up on even the most mild of your discomforts and tried to do anything he could to alleviate them. You don’t know how much, if at all, Mat changed during the time you spent apart but you want to think that you no longer wear your heart on your sleeve as much and your emotions are much more guarded, especially in his presence. 

Apparently, though, there’s only so much he can take with silence filled in by music because once he’s off busier streets, he leans in his seat more comfortably and you can tell he very briefly turns his head towards you. “Think they’ll like their wedding gift?” 

You direct your gaze away from the flashing scenery outside to Mat. “Absolutely. Who wouldn’t like it? Trust me when I say Bali’s been a place Elise always wanted to visit and I can’t think of a better time than now,” you assure him.

“If they don’t, it’s on you,” he says and it takes you a beat longer to realise he’s just joking so you huff out a laugh, relaxing back in the seat. 

“If they don’t, they can give one of the tickets to me and I’ll happily go there.” You cast a glare out at the scenery ahead, eyes narrowing upwards towards the overcast sky. “I don’t think summer will ever come at this rate. I’m starting to hate it here.”

“Doubt Baltimore was any better,” Mat points out.

“Hardly,” you sigh. “Maybe I’ll ask them to send me to Miami instead. That’d be much better.” 

Mat clears his throat quickly, shifting a little. “So, are you planning on going back to Baltimore or... Why are you back?” You catch sight of the frown forming on his face, and he quickly shakes his head as if trying to rid the hint of accusation from his voice. “That sounded wrong, sorry. But just genuinely curious. I thought a permanent move was on the table?”

“It was. Still is, but they needed me back here to wrap up a project. It was a pretty bad move on their behalf to send me there before we had that wrapped up nice and neat, bow and all, but I guess…” You trail off, shrugging a shoulder. “Guess we’ll see what’s next after that. They do want me back there, though. It just depends how long it takes for things here to fall into place.” 

“Fair enough.” Another pause, another moment for him to press his lips together in silent deliberation. He did that often, and you wonder if that remains a habit still. “Was it a promotion? I forgot, sorry.” 

“All good,” you assure, brushing off the apology. “Not a promotion per se, but a sidestep with just a slightly bigger paycheck. The office there is a bit smaller than the New York one so maybe there’s a higher chance of getting promoted sooner, but I don’t want to jump the gun on that yet. How did things work out for you guys this season?” 

The Islanders had a good season, making the playoffs but fell just short of making the semi-finals, you knew that. After all, you hadn’t removed the Islanders game and news alerts from your phone and you put that on your laziness. You wouldn’t shy away from admitting to him you still followed the team’s progression, but you preferred not to. 

“Could’ve been better but there’s lots to learn from it,” Mat tells you and there’s a trace of excitement and determination in his voice. “Next season will be even better, I guarantee.” 

It’s a staple Mat response, one he always gave if he felt a game didn’t end in their favour or he didn’t do as much as he thought he should have. Sometimes, it took him some time to accept it. Usually, it came to him after pushing himself in training, after going that extra step in the gym, after re-watching highlights or coach videos and always - always, you’d assure him that it takes a team to move forward, not a single person. Always, he’d kiss you and tell you he loves you and always, you’d spend those moments wrapped up in each other’s arms, more often than not with Mat’s head resting against your chest and your leg slung around his hip. 

“Plenty of time to lift that cup, Barzal,” you assure him. “Sure, the sooner the better but there’s always a right time for everything.”

“I hope so,” he agrees pensively, and lingers on that thought. 

You let him to it, directing your attention back to the view outside and only now and then picking up your phone either to switch songs or browse through a few applications. A part of you feels almost obliged to try and push for conversation but you avoid doing so. The last thing you need is to make it painfully awkward for the two of you and you figure Mat could always do that himself if he feels like it. So, you let your mind wander to better things - to the upcoming rehearsal and the wedding itself, to how good Elise will look and how Tito will be so proud to watch her walk the aisle towards him. You imagine their reaction to the gift you and Mat contributed towards and smiled to yourself, knowing it was a perfect pick for them both. 

You don’t think about telling Elise you and Mat had lied to them. You don’t think about passing this hurdle - the final one before you two will become strangers to one another. You don’t think about how the next time you might both see each other again, you’ll both have such different lives that for a brief moment, the surprise of it will knock the air out of your lungs before you remember: that’s him without me, and this is me without him. And you won’t be the first or the last people to break up, but a part of you is certain what the two of you had was unique and could’ve been grand. So much grander.

You become more alert to your surroundings when he starts slowing the car and you notice you’re pulling up into a gas station. As much as space allows you, you stretch out a little and Mat stops right by one of the pumps.

“Want something for the road?” You ask him, unplugging your phone and taking your card from your bag. 

“Hold on, I’ll come with you,” Mat tells you and it doesn’t take long for the refill to happen before you both walk into the station’s store, beelining for the snack aisles even if you have only two hours or so until you reach your destination. 

“Oh gosh, those are going to be a nightmare to clean up if you spill any in the car,” you groan quietly as he browses through the variety of Nerds flavours. 

“But they’re so good though,” he shoots back and flashes a smile that is nothing short of sly when he picks up two boxes instead of one. 

“Yeah, until the flavour runs out literally two seconds after you put them in your mouth. I mean, enjoy that but I’m different,” you boast and pick up a bag of sour candy. 

“You just like obliterating your taste buds.” 

He’s not wrong. Sour candy and spicy foods are your guilty pleasures, and have been for the longest time. You don’t try to look into how easily he recalls that because, you tell yourself, there’s nothing to look into. It’s a mere fact that anyone who knows you would easily recite. 

“You’re wrong and you know it, but admitting that is difficult so it’s fine, Barzal. No hard feelings,” you throw back, snickering as you head over to the fridges for a bottle of cold water. Instinctively, you grab another for him and instinctively, he takes your candy and the water to pay for them but you still tag along with him in the queue. 

“No shot. I like some spice but to the point where I literally can’t taste anything else? Hey, remember that one time when you made something… Can’t remember what it was but it was so…” He purses his lips and you laugh because yes, yes you remember it so clearly. 

“So good you ended up crying over it?” You offer. 

“More like, I wasn’t crying but it was so fucking spicy, Y/N, holy.” 

“You survived though, didn’t you?”

“I only did because there isn’t a thing you do I don’t like,” he says and then, seems to catch himself but a second too late. “Didn’t like,” he corrects quietly but the damage is done. 

You swallow uncomfortably, directing your gaze away from him but don’t hesitate to nod towards the outside. “I’ll head over to the car. I’ll text Elise to tell her we’re close.” 

“Y/N—“ 

But you’re already taking steps towards the exit and out of ear shot, making a beeline for the car. Your heart thumps rapidly and uncomfortable in your chest and find that pressing a palm to your left side doesn’t make it any better. You know it’s an innocent mistake and there are some habits that die hard, but the way he phrased it triggered your fight or flight instinct instantaneously and despite yourself, you leaned towards the latter. You enter the car and take the time to compose yourself as much as you could. The last thing you need is to have a conversation with Mat about this because you didn’t want to have it - it shouldn’t happen for the sake of avoiding making the situation even more uncomfortable. It was an innocent slip up, no doubt, and you should’ve braced yourself to speak of Mat in present tense as opposed to past tense in the presence of others but it comes to you harder than imagined. 

It’s odd how you both once knew so much about each other, everything even, and now the two of you are reduced to dancing around all that and making conscious efforts to keep your conversations as short and banal as possible. 

You try and busy yourself with formulating a message to Ellie, one that’s long enough to try and make you seem as busy as possible by the time Mat returns to the car, but every line you wrote, every mini paragraph going into dull details about the trip and where you guys currently are seemed like an overthrow. So, you delete that also and simply text her an OTW just as Mat sets the sweets on the centre console and the bottles in the cup holders. 

He doesn’t start the engine immediately and your mood quickly switches to frustration. Sure, you hadn’t handled it in the best way possible but trying to have a conversation about it wouldn’t make it any better. Or at least, it’s just something you didn’t want to have to think about for the remainder of the journey. 

But he does just that, because that is what Mat always did: he talked with you.

“I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable,” he begins, “I didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did. It’s force of habit more than anything else.”

“It’s whatever, Mat, so just move past it. I did, simple as that,” you tell him neutrally. 

There’s something in that response he must have not liked because you pick up on his small huff and shortly after, the car starts and you’re both on the road again. This time, with silence between you and an atmosphere so heavy it makes you wish you weren’t speeding down an Interstate just so you could open the window and let some of the air in.

-

The hotel the wedding will be held at lies in front of you, sprawling and secluded and perfect for an event like this. Tito is already at the entrance and when he spots Mat’s car, he waves quickly while Mat quickly flashes the headlights before pulling into an available parking spot.

“There they are!” Tito says by way of greeting and you walk right into his outstretched arms, hugging him. “Can’t believe so much time passed since we last saw each other. What is it, two months? Three?” 

“Three,” you confirm once you pull away so that Mat could hug him also. “It’s good to see you too. Where’s Elise?” 

“She wanted to check on some small details and said she’ll meet up with you guys in a bit. So here I am, the welcoming committee,” Tito explained and when he and Mat stepped apart, he reached out to give you another short hug which you accepted. “So how was Baltimore? Don’t suppose you liked it all that much if you’re back so soon. This guy was happy about it,” Tito adds, nodding his head towards Mat who was already busy emptying the trunk. 

You press your lips together, displaying a small smile. “Baltimore wasn’t too bad but they missed me here, apparently. Can’t complete a damn thing without my two cents so here I am for now.”

Tito frowns, but the expression is very brief. “For now? We’ll need to talk more about that later so Barzy doesn’t mope around as much as he did back then.”

You throw a quick glance towards Mat but he’s looking away towards whatever interesting spot on the ground he found, pointedly ignoring you. “I’ll have a word with him about it later,” you tell Tito lightly and together, the three of you make your way inside, towards the reception. 

“I think Elise is in the room at the end of the corridor if you want to say hi,” Tito informs you and you jump at the opportunity. 

You follow the corridor, making a right turn and continuing along the dimly lit hallway leading to what the signs informed you to be Conference Room 1. The door is slightly ajar and you begin picking up on the buzz of activity coming from within and soon enough, you’re face to face with a spacey room boasting an array of flowers and various arrangements tastefully decorating tables and drooping down from the ceiling. No doubt, the effect will be lovely during the night when colourful neon lights can be turned on. You spot Elise easily: she’s in the midst of the room with what is undoubtedly the scrapbook of ideas she’d been carefully putting together since Tito asked her to marry him. Outwardly, she’s all smiles and laughter but you can imagine the amount of effort and planning putting all of this together and working with planners takes. 

When she spots you, she squeals in excitement, sets her book down and dashes across the room to engulf you in a hug, making you stumble a few steps back. 

You burst into laughter and wrap your arms around her, squeezing her with just enough force to try and communicate how much you missed her but not so that it was uncomfortable. 

“I missed you! You’re here!” She exclaims, stepping back to look at you in disbelief then hugging you again. “Oh my gosh, I’m so happy you’re here! Where’s Mat? Is he here too?”

“Of course he is,” you assure her with a laugh. “I missed you too.” You throw a curious glance towards the room over her shoulder, nodding your head towards it. “How’s it going? Need me to take over for a bit?” 

“Maybe later. Definitely later. Come on.” She wraps an arm around yours and leads the way out of the room, undoubtedly back to the reception area where you left Mat and Tito. “Please tell me Baltimore is off the table. FaceTime is fine, sure, but it’s not great, you know? I need the real deal next to me. Besides, I’m not sure if you heard, but Mat wasn’t Mat without you.”

“So I heard, but forget about us!” You said in a desperate attempt to try and steer attention away from the subject. “Tell me about how everything’s going. Are you still nervous about it? Because trust me, Elise - you have absolutely nothing to be nervous of. What I’ve heard of so far and what I’ve seen will make it the absolute best day, surely.”

“Of course I’m nervous,” she tells you and to demonstrate, she holds her free hand in front of you and sure enough, there’s just a slight tremble to it. “Please lend me some of those nerves of steel of yours, Y/N, I’d do anything to have even a small percentage of them right now.”

“Pft, as if. Those are all show, trust me.” 

“I’ll take even that. Oh, Mat!” She greets as soon as the two of you reach the reception area and Elise spots Mat.

Much like you and Tito, they hug and when she steps back, she immediately stands next to Tito who doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. They exchange a quick kiss and you smile at the happiness and bliss they’re clearly surrounded by. 

It’s the slight pressure on your lower back that makes you jolt a little on the spot and it’s then you realise Mat had gently placed his hand there to encourage you a little closer. It takes effort on your behalf to follow his guidance but you move towards him, though you wish you could physically wince at how undoubtedly stiff the two of you must look. Or hopefully, not greatly so because neither Tito nor Elise comment on it or shoot you any funny looks as the four of you engage in brief conversation, mainly surrounding the trip here and any other guests they expect to receive today. 

You don’t hang around much, though. Elise’s phone begins buzzing incessantly and she’s whisked away by the message received, but not before she fixes you with a pointed stare and demands the two of you have drinks later in the evening. Tito follows her also, even if he informs you and Mat that he feels as if he’s running around in the right places only because of Elise and the wedding planners, but you encourage him on by joking he could maybe turn a few candles on the tables this way or that for some extra oomph. 

“I can’t imagine how she does it,” you admit to Mat once the elevator doors slide shut soundlessly and the car begins moving upwards to your floor.

“Pretty sure it’s not that big of a deal to her, given what all this is leading to,” Mat tells you and you detect a hint of detachment in his voice. 

You don’t welcome it, of course you don’t, but you choose to not point that out to him. The last thing you want is an argument to break out the relatively okay mood the two of you have managed to hold, recent events that could be erased from memory aside. Instead, you simply stand back quietly, eyes glued on the red digital numbers aside until they come to a halt on the ninth floor where the elevator stops and you’re both left in a silent, dimly lit hallway. 

Mat has the key to the apartment Elise told you the two of you would be in and just before tapping in, he hands you your own copy of it. Up until this very moment, you hadn’t thought very much of the overnight arrangements. You were pretty sure you meant to ask Elise a bit more about them at some point but both your attention and hers were pulled in different directions and here you were, stepping into your place for the next couple of nights, Mat trailing a little behind you. 

You stop, arms folding across your chest and you feel Mat stop somewhere close behind you, looking into one room.

“I didn’t think this through,” you state neutrally. 

Ahead of you lay only one bed. 

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fic #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #nhl fic #* #the synopsis sucks but i'm bad at short summaries lol #i had this idea since i first joined hockeyblr and i'm happy to have finally found the motivation to write it #anyway i have a vague idea for some scenes #and there will probably be three MAYBE four parts to it

[missymurphy1985]

Out of the Blue

*This was a request*

Warnings - smut / unplanned pregnancy / talk of abortion

I've used a fictional family for Cillian for this, names have been changed.

"That's it then," Cillian sighed, reading the letter from his solicitor, his friend Adam sitting opposite him in the kitchen of Cillian's new apartment in North Dublin. The Decree Nisi, his divorce from Kate now final. He felt a tinge of sadness, he couldn't help it, they'd spent most of their lives together and shared two teenage boys, but he couldn't forgive her cheating on him while he was away filming, the trust had left him completely.

"To a fresh start, Cill." Adam raised his bottle of beer to Cillian's pint of Guinness as they toasted, Ada ln trying to lighten the darkness in his best friend's eyes. "You're better off without her - now you can move on."

"Yeah no thanks, I'm done with women for a LONG time Ad, they're all the fucking same!" Cillian smiled, almost a laugh. "All I'm interested in now is the boys, they've been through one hell of a rollercoaster this last year."

"When are they coming to stay?"

"Tomorrow afternoon, I've got them all weekend."

"Then tonight Mr Murphy I am taking you OUT! Come on, we can go check out that new bar in the city, there's a band on!" Cillian groaned, that was not his plan for this evening. All he wanted was his pyjamas, a good book and an early night. This wasn't lost on Adam. "I'm not taking no for an answer here, come on! It's been months since you went out, let's do this!"

"Adam please... Not tonight yeah? Maybe next week, or.."

"Enough! No! You're not moping any more, I'm taking to out and that's the end of it." Cillian rolled his eyes. Fuck it, arguing with Adam was pointless, he'd known this since high school.

Within an hour they were ready, both of them in jeans and Timberland boots, Cillian in a blue striped t shirt and Adam in a green one. Hair fixed, they headed out to the waiting taxi outside.

"The first sign of someone trying to take my picture, I'm out of there Adam..." Cillian dreaded the thought of being papped out on the town following his divorce. The papers just wanted a scoop on who he'd be sleeping with now he was freshly single and available. Adam nodded in agreement a deal, as the taxi pulled outside the bar.

******************************

Y/n woke up, her head pounding. Opening her eyes she looked around at her surroundings, not recognising a single thing.

"The fuck have you done this time y/n..." You groaned, rolling your eyes and sitting up gingerly, trying to stop the contents of your stomach from evacuating violently over the unfamiliar bedsheets. Glancing at the alarm clock, you groaned again. 8am... Why the hell was it so damn early.. and where the fuck was she?? She heard a door downstairs open and close, and froze. She wasn't alone. Footsteps up the stairs, she quickly hid back under the covers pretending to be asleep as she heard the bedroom door open and the pressure on the side of the bed as someone sat down next to her sleeping body.

"Hey.. you awake?" An Irish voice filled the silence, as the smell of fresh coffee found its way under the duvet you were hiding under. Clenching your eyes tightly together, you slowly pulled the duvet back and opened them, seeing the man you clearly spent the previous evening with. Your eyes found his.. my god they were so blue.. he was handsome.. bit older than you, maybe? You couldn't tell for sure. You definitely recognised him from somewhere other than last night though, maybe he went to uni with you?

"Um... Morning.. I uh -" you sat up, taking the coffee from his hand, thanking him.

"Did we -"

"Did we.."

You both spoke at the same time. Clearly neither of you remembering the night before. You smiled, he smiled, before you both burst out laughing.

"Fucking hell, how wasted were we? We can't even remember if we had sex or not? I've NEVER been that drunk.. listen I'm sorry, this isn't exactly a great morning after huh?" He took a sip of his coffee, blushing slightly.

"Hey this is not something I do regularly okay.." he shook his head agreeing, neither did he.

"Cillian." He offered you his hand to shake, still smirking. "Listen if you can't remember if we had sex, you definitely can't remember my name..." Your turn to blush now.

"Y/n. And no. I definitely don't remember. But if it makes you feel any better, I'm still fully clothed? I don't think we had sex then redressed, do you?" You laughed, showing him you were still wearing the top and jeans you had on last night.

The pair of you laughed in relief.. eyes meeting again as the tension finally left the room.

"I can drive you home whenever you're ready y/n. If you need to get back?" Cillian offered.

"Erm.. oh yeah.. that'd be great, thank you.. listen, would it be cheeky to ask for a shower, or..."

"Hey, no not at all! Just through there," he pointed to his en suite. "I'll fetch you a towel, take your time."

You smiled. Those beautiful blue eyes were captivating you completely, you couldn't drag your own eyes away. He couldn't take his own from yours either, that tension was back, but it was a different kind of tension this time. Neither of you could remember how you got here, but neither of you minded that it had happened.

"You.. I'll go have that shower, yeah?" You moved to stand but stumbled slightly, landing closer to Cillian. He didn't move. Your face was now a mere few inches from his. Those eyes, once again never leaving yours. Your core burned, glancing down you saw the obvious excitement in his trousers, causing you to groan quietly.

He leaned in slowly, lips brushing yours carefully. You couldn't stop yourself kissing him back, within seconds the kiss becoming heated, tongues colliding. He leaned you back down onto the bed, moving his body to cover your own. You couldn't stop yourself, it was as if you were moving in autopilot, everything inside your core was on fire, demanding more of this incredible man immediately.

He stopped kissing you and hovered over your face, rubbing his nose against yours.

"Are you sure about this y/n?" You nodded, and kissed him again hungrily, parting your legs as he fell between them, grinding his own hips against yours. You could feel his hard-on, and you bucked your hips against his.

"Please... Don't stop now... I need this.. even if I never see you again after this Cill, just let me.."

"Baby I don't do one night stands... I'm taking you for breakfast as soon as we're done. Deal?" You smiled, no that was probably a grin. Breakfast sounded damn good right now, but not as good as he'd feel buried inside you.

"Deal. Now fuck me.. please?"

"Your wish is my command." Clothes removed, he grabbed a condom from his jeans pocket (Adam bought them the night before, he remembered that part at least, him slipping a couple into his jeans pocket as Cillian protested he wasn't going to sleep with anyone that night anyway...) Slipping it on, he pushed himself inside you, filling you completely.

"Fuck... Cillian that's fucking it..." You raised your hips with each thrust, he buried his face into your neck, biting the skin and sucking it slightly. You could hear him moaning into your collarbone.

"Shit you feel good... So fucking tight y/n..."

"Harder... Cillian, harder..." Your nails scratched down his back - if he was marking you, you were absolutely marking him in return. His thrusts now came hard and fast, as your walls clenched around him, your body finding that sweet release you needed, you hands pulling his hair hard. He came immediately after you, with a low moan into your hair as he pulled it in return, both of you panting trying to catch your breath.

"Shit me... I wasn't expecting that.." Cillian eased himself out, catching the condom before throwing it on the floor by the bed. Collapsing next to you, he turned to face you.

"I'm sorry... I don't even know you and I'm fucking you.. this isn't me y/n, I mean it, I don't do this, I've NEVER done this before."

"Hey, you've never had a one time thing? Seriously?"

"I was married for 20years until last night y/n!" He laughed, causing you to smile too. Suddenly your smile dropped a little.

"How old are you? If you don't mind me asking.."

"42. You?"

"If I tell you, don't freak out yeah?"

"Y/n I know you're younger okay, just tell me. It's okay."

"24." His eyes widened, was that in horror? Shock? Disgust? You couldn't tell but it didn't look good...

"24?? Shit me... The press are gonna have a field day with this..." You sat up, suddenly extremely self conscious. Age was never an issue for you, you actually preferred an older man, but it clearly bothered him.

"The press?" You asked, confused. "Why on earth would they be bothered?"

Cillian looked at you. You looked back at him completely deadpan. Shit, you were serious.

"Google me. Cillian Murphy." You reached into your jeans pocket for your phone and typed his name.

"Oh shit..."

**********************************

"Y/n, you still with me?" Cillians voice floated through the screen, knocking you from your daydream. Filming over in England for Peaky Blinders, Skype calls were your norm now.

"What? Shit sorry, baby, I was in a world of my own then! What did you say?"

"I asked if that delivery had arrived from Amazon, those books I ordered? You ok?"

"What books? Oh, those.. erm yeah I think so, something arrived for you earlier anyway, I left it on the kitchen side for you for when you get home next week. At least I think I did..."

"What's going on with you? Are you okay? You haven't been yourself for a few days now, forgetting things? You left your keys at work the other day, your phone in your friend's car.. what's going on?" Truth be told, you had no idea. Since your chest infection four months ago, you'd lost the ability to adult. You and Cillian had moved into a new home on the outskirts of Dublin 4 months ago, that morning after being the start of a blossoming romance, that led to you moving in together within the space of 6 months. Everyone had something to say, especially his ex wife who was still telling everyone who'd listen that you were obviously sleeping together while Cillian was still married, obviously he traded her in for a younger model, obviously blah, blah, blah... Never mind the fact that SHE cheated on HIM, no mention of that... Luckily your friends and family saw past all of it, and welcomed the new relationship - seeing how good you two fitted together, it wasn't hard to see why. You were the gin to his tonic, exactly what you both needed without you knowing you needed it. But these last few months, you'd felt completely spaced out - not even you could deny it.

"That chest infection really knocked the wind out my sales Cill, I haven't been right since! My mind's gone to absolute mush! Maybe I'm just run down, I've got the rest of the week off now so I'll get some rest, I promise."

"Maybe book a doctor's appointment y/n, you should be over this by now, you took all your antibiotics, yeah?"

"Yep, every one, right on time. Babe I'm so tired! I can't explain it!"

"Hit the sack babe, get an early one. I'll call you tomorrow. Don't forget to make that appointment okay?" You agreed, eyes growing heavy. You told each other I love you before closing the call and heading straight to bed.

You left the doctor's appointment the following day with tears in your eyes. This couldn't be happening... You took out your phone to call Serena, your best friend.

Approaching her front door, she opened it and immediately held you as sobs racked your body. Taking you inside away from any prying paparazzi, she put the kettle on.

"He's gonna kill me Serena... This isn't supposed to happen! We agreed - this wasn't part of our plan!! What am I going to do? How could I have been so stupid?"

"This isn't your fault y/n.. and he is not going to kill you, okay?" Nausea overcame you and you ran to her downstairs toilet, your breakfast evacuating violently into the toilet bowl. Serena made you a glass of water. Your phone vibrated, Cillian's name appearing on the screen. You ignored it. Again. Three times he'd called, three times you ignored it.

"You have to tell him sooner or later, y/n..." Serena was at the door, glass of water in hand.

"How? How exactly do I tell the man who is adamant he wants no more children that I'm fucking pregnant Serena? And I'm already 13 weeks gone? How did I not know?" Sobs overcame you again, your phone vibrating a fourth time. This time, a voicemail was left. Shakily, you listened to it.

"Y/n what the fuck? Call me. Call me right now." He didn't sound happy - from just a few missed calls, that was a bit extreme! Once you'd calmed down, Serena left you alone in her kitchen while you called him back via WhatsApp, hands still shaking.

"Baby, what's going on?? Paul's just shown me a photo on Twitter of you leaving the doctors with tears in you eyes, what the hell is happening?" You cursed yourself.. fucking photographers everywhere!

"Babe, are you alone? And sitting down? Put your phone on video call." He did as you asked and you saw his panic-stricken face fill the screen as you settled your phone on the counter. He saw your pale, tear-stained face and turned a shade of white.

"Y/n what is it?"

"I went to the doctor's -"

"I know that, y/n..."

"Look, this is easier if you don't interrupt me, yeah?" He nodded an apology and sat back, arms folded. "So that chest infection.. I had to take antibiotics. And it would appear that antibiotics... Well.. they render the pill completely useless and -" his eyes widened as he listened to you.

"The fuck are you saying y/n?"

"I'm pregnant, Cillian. 13 weeks." You closed your eyes, waiting for him to scream at you. Shout at you. Curse you. But he said nothing. Silence. Complete radio silence. You opened your eyes, tears threatening to fall any second. "Well fucking say something Cill!"

"I... I don't... Fuck y/n... This is a joke, right? You're joking? It's April 1st and you're having me on, yeah?"

"No, Cillian, it's July 15th and I am not FUCKING JOKING!!" The tears fell freely now, how much of an arsehole could he be. You saw him stand up and walk across the room out of view and your tears fell harder. Serena re-entered the room hearing your sobs but you waved her back. Composing yourself..

"Cillian... Cillian are you still there? Cillian?!" He came back into view and sat back down, eyes wet. He was crying.

"I'm sorry.. baby I'm sorry I didn't mean.." choking his words, so many emotions running through his mind. Another wave of nausea saw you suddenly dash out of view to throw up in the toilet again. All he saw was you run.

"Y/n?? Baby?? Where you going??" Serena came into view.

"Cill she's fine - it's morning sickness. She's okay don't worry." Cillian breathed a sigh of relief seeing your best friend there, at least you weren't alone.

"Listen, go take care of her yeah, tell her to call me when she's feeling okay.. and tell her I love her. We'll be okay. Everything will be okay, I promise." Serena smiled, nodding her head, ending the call, making her way back to you, still wretching into the bowl.

*************************************

"How are you feeling?" Cillians voice helped to ease the pain. Your morning sickness had subsided, at least for the last couple of days. Your bump appeared out of nowhere once you'd found out you were pregnant, but with the sudden change in your body came changes you really didn't appreciate - your pelvis was agony. Since you hit the 7 month mark, it felt like it was on fire daily.

"Like dogshit. Like my hips want to cripple me. This is hell Cillian, I miss you so much!" You started to cry again, Cillian feeling completely helpless. He'd already missed so much of this precious time filming, neither of you able to come home or visit due to Covid restrictions and y/n having a high risk pregnancy. Severe morning sickness, coupled now with severe pelvic girdle pain, doctors had signed you off on sick until your maternity leave kicked in in 6 weeks time. You couldn't walk now without crutches, relying on friends and family to bring you groceries. You were beginning to resent your own baby, which made you feel even worse.

"I'm on the first flight home tomorrow morning, we wrapped filming up a month early so I could come home sooner. I wanted to surprise you, but I'm shit at surprises!" He chuckled, causing you to giggle too. You perked up, still lay on the sofa like a bloated whale but at least you were smiling now.

"Really? You'll be home tomorrow?"

"Flight lands at 7am. I'll be home by 7:45. And I'm not going anywhere, y/n, I've cleared my schedule. Nothing coming up, no press, no interviews, I'm completely yours and the baby's for the foreseeable future. I promise." Tears fell again, but this time, happy ones. He'd be home in less than 12 hours. One more sleep, and he'd be home.

*************************************

"Come on y/n... You can do this!" You gripped Cillians hand hard as another contraction rippled painfully across your abdomen. Why the fuck did you refuse the epidural? What the hell were you thinking??

"I can't... I can't do it... Cillian I've been doing this for hours I can't..... Aaaaahhhhhh!" You screamed as your body took over and you bore down. The midwife ordering you to push.

"You can, you can baby, come on... She's nearly here! So close now, just a little longer..." He breathed with you, patting your head with a cold flannel to cool you down. Another contraction, another push...

Suddenly the room erupted with a baby's loud cry, swiftly followed by your own. Cillians eyes watered as your daughter was lifted in the air, still attached by the umbilical cord. Cillian cut it, taking your daughter into his arms. It was already decided he would hold your baby first, after all, you'd been carrying her for 9 months! You choked, seeing him holding your baby for the first time, as he carried her over to you to hold to your chest.

"She's here... She's beautiful.. look at her eyes Cillian!" Ocean blue, just like his.

"She has your nose y/n... My god she's perfect..." He kissed your head gently, openly sobbing now and not caring in the slightest. He thanked you. He thanked you for bringing his daughter safely into the world, for going through hell during the worst pregnancy you could've imagined..

"All worth it... Every second.. but I'm never doing this again Cillian.. I mean it, never again." You glared at him then at the scissors on the table, then down at his groin.

"Fuck off, y/n, I'm not having anyone snipping anything down there..."

"Looks like a life of celibacy then Murphy, that's the only logical conclusion."

"I'll book an appointment next week." You smirked. Very rarely did you not get your own way, and now he had two girls against him, he knew he'd never get his OWN way ever again.

And he wouldn't have it any other way.

Taglist:

@queenshelby @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @margoo0

#cillian x smut #cillian x fem!reader #fanfic #cillian x pregnant reader #cillian x childbirth

[iwantutobehapppier]

We Will Wake Up

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader Summary: Steve and Bucky seemed to be everywhere you looked, certainly this familiarity between the three of you would only bode well when you seek refuge at their place during the Shutdown.  Warnings: 18+ Only, Dark Steve Rogers, somnophilia, dubcon bordering on noncon. Please if any of this bothers you read no further. There will be more fics for Festival of Smut with little to no dark themes.  Word Count:  2,536 A/N: Happy 2nd night of Chanukah! I give you some dark/creep Steve. I have been tinkering with this one for a long time now. @sapphirescrolls​ really helped fuel this along with Tyler by the Toadies.

You know Steve’s there. He’s always there now. He knows you know. He parades around as if his presence is pure coincidence. It is equal parts laughable and concerning.

Looking out the corner of your eye you catch the tall bulky frame of his best friend Bucky beside him as they wait for their coffee. Bucky a man of little flourish in coffee grabs his cup and sits right across from you at the table outside of the little coffee shop. Outside seating more comfortable for you given the current pandemic. But your two shadows didn’t have any worry about the pandemic with the Super Soldier Serum.

Steve and Bucky were great people. Working with them when it came to PR had its challenges but overall a joy.  Not only that but you were pleased to become friends with them. That was months ago. Now they were showing up everywhere you went outside of the regular

Compound encounters. However, you had noticed Steve was sans his pal more often than not in recent encounters.

“You should stay in the compound with us,” Bucky offers a solution to your current dilemma. You frown at his suggestion. Steve’s waiting for his drink inside of the coffee shop they both happened to show up to this morning.

A coffee shop you had never gone to before in an attempt to test your theory about being possibly followed. The results, worrisome

“I mean,” Bucky leans over his cup keeping eye contact. “You’ve said it yourself, they’re starting the shutdown soon and you’re not sure how long you can spend being completely alone.” You look away at his intense gaze only to catch Steve’s eye as he sits next to you at the four top.

“What are you two talking about?” An easy smile falls over Steve’s face before he takes a sip of his coffee.

“Just that she should stay with us,” Steve nearly spits out his drink, and Buck chuckles at his expense. “You know, staying with us would be much more entertaining than being alone.” Bucky leans over the table looks at Steve directly when he stops.

Steve nods his head, taking the lead.

“You know the Compound ground fairly well,” Steve continues. “It’ll be fully stocked to last the shutdown and then some.”

Nibbling on your bottom lip in equal worry and contemplation you worked out in your head, ways to refuse the offer without coming off as a heinous bitch. 

“Wouldn’t you guys be coming and going during missions?” You scrunched your face up. “I think that would put me at risk of contagion.”

“That’s the greatest part about it,” Bucky leans back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head. “We’ll be there too. Unless the worst happens, and then we’ll get testing to make sure we’re not carriers before we come back home,” he pauses looking at Steve then you, “to you.”

Steve clears his throat shifting in his seat you tilt your head to the side watching him. “Are you okay Steve?”

“Mm?” he looks directly at you for longer than fleeting seconds. “Yes,” he pauses. “I really think you should consider the offer.” His hand rests on your knee, the heat emitting off him almost too much for the end of March in New York City. 

“We have a spare room in our apartment there,” He watches you nibble on your lip once again, he shifts to Bucky who just nods his head towards you. “We’ll get it set up just the way you want and I swear we won’t leave dishes in the sink.”

Bucky chuckles, “I agreed to no such thing,” Steve cuts his eyes at his pal. “Fine,” Bucky huffs folding his arms over his chest pouting.

You can’t help but laugh at the two of them, much like a married couple. Maybe having their banter around would be helpful to ease the worrisome a pandemic causes? Perhaps the following was because the two had so few friends outside the compound as is and they’ve often said how welcoming you make them feel. Without letting yourself fret any more over the decision you made your choice.

“Okay,” you nodded your head, Steve’s hand on you clasping around your knee. “When can I move in?”

The smile that illuminates Steve’s face bright enough to light up the sky of NYC you were sure of it. However, the grip on your knee makes something in your hindbrain whisper “Be careful.”

You had been doing so well, it was a month in and the situation was proving rewarding for all parties. You had a nice state of the art abode, they had a personal chef in you and you all had each other for company. 

Working from home was not an issue at all, they left you alone when you were working. You only saw them when you’d pause for lunch, where they always seemed to in the kitchen waiting for you. After work would normally be some type of movie to watch for them to catch up, sharing music or the rare occasion Steve drawing you as you read. 

It was nice and oddly domestic bliss but it seemed to change one drunken night when you kissed Steve. It wasn’t meant to be anything, you were drunk feeling good and he was making you feel good. With his compliments and attention before you knew it your lips were on his. He didn’t respond which left you feeling completely foolish. 

Not that you wanted anything to happen between you and Steve, you didn’t, right? He was handsome, and god knows he was packing with what your eyes have beheld when he comes back from his work on in his grey sweats. So maybe you did? Or was it the cabin fever?

However, after that, it’s a fat chance anything would happen as he avoided you the next day. Bucky told you it was just his nerves that “He’s never had a hot dame like you into him.”

Luck was on your side two nights later when Steve ventured out of his room for a movie night. A romance on no less, and Bucky suspiciously dipping out early claiming he was exhausted. That left you and Steve miles apart on the couch until Steve slid down to your side, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. He pulled you close and when you tried to pull back for some space for civility you couldn’t budge him. 

When the romantic duo of the film finally kiss you can’t help but look at Steve from the corner of your eye. Steve is staring at you, a light blush on his cheeks. He leans forward, and before you know what’s happening his lips are on yours. You’re quite shocked given the drunken kiss you gave him.

It takes only a moment for your lips to soften on his. The pleased sigh he emits warming your body up almost more than the kiss. With tentative movement, his tongue trails only your bottom lip, and your open your mouth on reflex. Then the flood gates are open, he’s pulling you into his lap, arms holding you secure as you both make up for the last quarter of the film.

As the credits roll you finally part, lips chapped and swollen. You feel your cheeks warm as you look away. Well, this certainly wasn’t your plan. Steve clears his throat and you look back at him.

“I had wanted to do that for a while,” You give a shy smile in response.

“I think,” you pull yourself off his lap. “It was worth the wait and just enough.” Needing to keep your distance before you let this go farther than it should. Sleeping with someone who was kindly housing you rent-free was not the smartest move in your opinion. 

Steve nods in agreement though his brow furrow with agitation. He was fairly certain his night would go somewhere else and the uncomfortable tightness of his pants had to be dealt with.

“I suppose you’re right,” he shifts on the couch and you pretend not to see the bulge in his pants that you had without a doubt felt just a moment underneath you. “I say we call it a night.” Steve veining confidence to take control of the night.

Nodding in agreement. “Good night Steve,” as you go to turn he stands up and grabs your wrist pulling you into him capturing your lips one last time. 

Letting you go when you pull apart he smiles. “Just had to have one more,” tucking your hair behind your ear you can’t help but smile, “Sweet dreams.”  He releases your hand as you turn once more to retreat to your room.

His eyes glower at your disappearing figure, eyes tracing the flare of your hips and lush back side. He wasn’t sure he could wait for another night to continue this path you two were on. One he desperately wanted. 

You were awake and abruptly so.

You felt, full? Oddly so? An ache and stretch in your lower abdomen the first sensations as you wake up. Then it’s the way you feel your pelvis flex against something. Eyes opening the room is still dark, your eyelids feel heavier than usual when awoken in the night. Are you sitting upright? What’s the warmth radiating at your back?

Warm muscular arms wrap around your body from behind, you yelp in fear. Your bareback is forced against a fuzzy chest. Wait, are you naked? Thick thighs flex below you and that ache in your lower abdomen is clearly all the way to your pelvis becomes clear. Your gasping for breath as panic sets in, your voice cracks in your attempts to call out for help. Who is this?

“Ssshh,” lips press against the shell of your ear. You’re cocooned in warmth and you’ve never been more afraid in your life. This sensation should be comforting but-

“Knew you’d feel so tight around me,” You’re bounced up by the thighs beneath, and the moan that pulls from your lips is involuntary. The thick cock lodged so deep inside you feel too good. It shouldn’t feel this good. The bulbous cock head brushing against that special spot with each re-entry. 

“Ste-Steve?” you get out between your shock and pleasure. He holds you down, still as can be, you can feel the steady thump of his heart against your back. Lips the press against your ear slowly trails down your neck resting at the nape. His breath pushes hot air across your bare chest with a forceful exhale.

“It’s me,” His words a whisper on your skin. “I’ve got you, sweetheart.” You try to find his words comforting, recalling how gentle he is with you, how attentive and soft the first kiss was earlier this night. How had it escalated so quickly?

Your nails dig into his forearms, his large hands holding your waist lifting you up and down as if you were light as a feather. It was disorienting. He drops you down and as your mouth opens his large sweaty palm mutes your scream.

“Normally,” Steve grunts pushing up into you. “I’d want to hear your beautiful voice,” He lifts you once more, his hands so warm and tight against your skin. His super strength made you feel like a sack of potato at the most. Slowly lowering you down his pulsing shaft you can feel the way he pulls at your walls, the sponge feel of the tip of his cock hitting your cervix.

“But I don’t want Buck to hear.” He grunts pushing his hips up and down, his thighs moving you without your aid. “These noises are mine.” He growls. His hand slips from your mouth to between your slick folds to rub softly against your little nub.

When you inhale to moan Steve shushes you, resulting in you bitting your lip trying to muffle your moans. “That’s my good girl,” his words warm against your skin as he sets a steady pressure on your nub in a circular motion.

Your walls fluttering around him he muffles his groan. “Fuck, baby girl,” his fingers digging into your hip. Steve’s hands move to lift you up, almost completely off his cock the wide tip sitting at the opening. For a brief moment, you think it’s over whatever this violation of your body is.

Then you’re falling, the push of his thick and long shaft into you makes your head jerk back. His chin resting on your forehead. Steve’s bulging arms wrap around you resting under your breast. “You feel me here?” a hand slips down to push on your lower abdomen. A soft moan pulling from your lips at the feeling. 

Looking down you gasp seeing the slight bulge, no wonder it felt like he was splitting you in two. Watching the hand slip down further, two fingers slide down to capture your clit, giving a gentle squeeze. Your body shakes, biting your lip to hold in a moan tilting your head back once more. 

Your hands grip his large forearm trying to pull his hand back. The sensory overload too much from being woken up in such a jarring manner. Trying to get hold of whether you wanted this or not was becoming difficult with each touch. 

Steve tut’s in your ear, his hand pulling back to slap your pussy. Your whimper following the slapping noise. “Don’t hide how much you’ve been wanting this.” He bends his head, lips resting on your forehead. Then touch intimate and far more gentle than what he is doing with your body. 

“I know you’ve been waiting so patiently for me to fill your pussy,” His crass words scrap against your forehead. You go to shake your head but pause when he rotates his hips. 

“It’s okay,” his tone saccharine, “We’ve got plenty of time to make it up before Bucky wakes up.”

#steve rogers x reader #dark steve rgoers #dark!steverogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #dubcon #smut #Captain America #Steve rogers x you #dark steve rogers x you

[nevertheless-moving]

Suicidal Misunderstanding XX

Part I - - - - - - - - - - Part XVII - - - - Part XVIII - - - - Part XIX

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

“I want you to understand that what we’re going to ask of you is entirely beyond the scope of duty and therefore completely voluntary. You are more than free to refuse participation, at any point, with absolutely no consequences.”

Deep within the Healing Halls best-kept medical secret, Eights quelled beneath the full might of the GAR’s highest and most lauded Generals. Yeah I’m sure whatever they ask I’m going to want to say no. Honestly, what kind of soldiers have they been working with?

“What can I do to help, sir? Sirs?”

“I know this might be shocking, but we have reason to believe the GAR is...compromised.”

“Sir?”

Eights thought furiously. This wasn’t about the healers who were hiding them, or the Jedi his battalion never received, or the decommissioning he had escaped. This was bigger.

The General Windu spoke calmly, “We suspect that you may have been trained or conditioned at some point without your knowledge to unquestioningly follow orders, orders that would usually be beyond what you would typically obey. With your permission, we’d like to try and activate that order in a restrained environment in order to gain more information, with the hope of finding a way to help the troops resist.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I don’t understand. You’re just going to give me an order and ask me...not to obey it?”

General Koon nodded (General Koon! General Koon and General Windu were talking to him at the same time!). “In a manner of speaking, yes. But it’s possible that the order will do more than that. The only way we believe this could possibly work” Koon glanced to the man at his side. “And we...do believe this threat is real, is if you suffer from some form of brainwashing. Activating it might cause irreparable brain damage. Activating it might damage or kill the parts of you that make you you. Even if it doesn’t- the ideal scenario is we find something- an intentionally designed tumor perhaps- and surgically remove it. And brain surgery also has its own risks.”

Eights swallowed around a lump in his throat. 

“And this is something that could be going on with...my entire batch?”

General Kenobi winced. “The entire GAR I’m afraid. Every clone.”

The General of the 212th! Commander Cody’s General was here! Talking to him! Telling him existentially terrifying ultra classified intel!

The trooper stared up from bed in disbelief. If anyone besides three of most respected generals in the entire GAR (not including Buir Ti) was telling him this he would accuse them of bantha crap fear-mongering, if not outright treason. Instead he was just...outraged.

“What would the order make me...us...do?”

Windu took a deep breath. “Attack us. Try and kill the Jedi.”

“I would never.” Eights straightened up even further. “We would never betray the Jedi- it’s- never. We were made for the Jedi and even if we weren’t- you’re the only ones who treat us with an ounce of respect.”

“No one is questioning your loyalty,” the kind Mon Cal healer (whose name he had never asked for fear of getting her in trouble if this ward was ever discovered) said, obviously trying to sooth him. She spoke with heart-breaking earnestness. “The fact that you would never choose to obey such a command just makes the possibility of something forcing you to do so that much more horrifying.”

“How would something like that even get in our heads? The longnecks designed us to serve the Jedi, why... I’m sorry Generals. I didn’t mean to get out of line.”

“No need to apologize. You have every right to be angry about this intrusion, as well as any number of things,” General Kenobi reassured him, smiling sadly. “We don’t know to what extent the Kaminoans are involved with this plot. Not precisely.”

Eights nodded, clenching his one remaining fist. “I’ll do it. Whatever you need from me. I can’t let my brothers have something this big looming over them without any intel.” I’m not exactly front-lines material anymore anyway.

“Are you sure?” Mace Windu’s eyes seemed to stare into his soul. Eights stared right back.

“I am. When do we start?”

It didn’t take long to shave the soldier and connect a number of glowing vital readers to his skull. He was ushered into a chambered observation room with what appeared to be a sfaraday cage hastily built around it. 

“Alright, whenever you’re ready.” Bant (Master Eerin apparently, but she told him to call her Bant) said.

“I’m ready, sir.”

“Let’s start off small, see if we can learn anything without fully activating the order.”

General Kenobi took in a deep breath. He looked calm, but Jedi always did. The General took in another breath. Kriff, two deep breaths. That’s Jedi for freaking out, isn’t it? Right?

Fuck.

“Does Order 66 mean anything to you?” General Kenobi braced himself, staring intently at the trooper in his seat. 

Eights wracked his brain furiously. Sixty-Six...that was...

“It’s...a little familiar? Sorry sir, I feel like I’ve heard it somewhere but...I can’t recall.”

“That’s perfectly alright trooper, not to worry.”

A Twilek healer he didn’t recognize spoke into a micomphone from the other side of a transparisteel window. “His frontal lobe might be lighting up a little, but it’s nothing abnormal, and not enough to triangulate for anything intrusive.”

After several variations on the same question as well as a number of scans of different ‘levels,’ the questioning escalated to orders, as well an extremely uncomfortable mock fight that he would probably tell his grandchildren about, provided he survived today, and also was allowed to have grandchildren.

Still, Eights couldn’t quite recall ever learning an Order 66 and was starting to relax, thinking the whole thing was some sort of horrible separatist lie.

They left him alone for an uncertain amount of time before returning with-

“Quickdraw?!” Eights jumped up at the sight of his commanding officer arriving via hoverchair, nervously saluting with his left hand.”I didn’t know you were here!”

“Just got out of bacta. My spine’s not quite what it used to be after the blast,” the lieutenant responded wryly. “At ease, Eights.”

“Our apologies again for waking you prematurely,” General Koon said softly.

Quickdraw waved the General off. “I’m honored you did. For something as serious this- well I’d hardly forgive myself if I just slept through it.”

Quickdraw locked eyes with Eights. “I’m supposed to try giving you ‘the order’ now- General Kenobi suspects that as your superior officer, I might be authorized to trigger whatever the hell the longnecks put in our heads.”

Eights swallowed hard. “The longnecks, sir?”

“Who else?” Quickdraw asked in a tone drier than Jakku. He spun in the chair to face General Koon. “How are we doing this?”

After a brief discussion, the troopers ended up on opposite sides of a sound-proof transparisteel divider, an comm channel open between them. Eights plugged his ears and gave the order first. And giving Quickdraw an order was almost but not quite as weird as giving an order that would apparently make him try and kill Jedi.

Nothing happened and they swapped, this time with Quickdraw using a waxy covering to block his hearing.

His lieutenant stared at him straight through the clear divider and ordered him to execute Order 66. This time he finally remembered his training, and realized he was woefully outgunned. Oh well, he was a good soldier.

Eights stood up. The only visible change in his expression was a widening of his pupils. There was no malicious intent palpable in the force- he didn’t even look angry- just determined.

He lunged at the Jedi next to him, only to hit an invisible wall. He threw himself at the barrier desperately while the traitor backed out of the room and escaped. The wall finally dropped, but it was too late, he was locked in.

Sighing, he picked up the chair with his one good arm, slamming it repeatedly at the door frame. Good soldiers follow orders.

On the other side of the observation window, Quickdraw stumbled back horrified, reaching for his ears before hesitating. General Koon softly tapped his shoulder and indicated they should leave. 

“I’ve got a location.” Master Che said quietly as the lieutenant was ushered into an antechamber and the activated trooper continued to beat at the door. “It’s a small but clear patch lit up like the festival of lights- I don’t know why it didn’t turn up in scans but...I’m as confident as I can be. Worst case- it’s a small enough area that removing the grey matter shouldn’t...well it won’t kill him. It’s enough to go on for microscapel surgery.” General Koon nodded, then tilted forward, weight falling heavily in his palms on the counter before him.

Vokara rested a hand gently on his back “...I was hoping it wasn’t true as well.”

Master Koon flinched away. “I am sorry and glad to say you do not understand my feelings on the matter. I think...my apologies but I need some time to meditate.”

“Of course.”

Koon rushed out. After a moment Master Windu stepped in, radiating similar distress as Master Koon. Master Kenobi followed, looking grim but also happy. 

‘Oh I’m glad Koon isn’t around him right now,’ Healer Che thought wryly.

Perhaps sensing the mood, Obi-Wan sobered. 

“I’m sorry it’s just- I didn’t actually see the order get activated. Of course I believed it wasn’t a choice- and I’m obviously not glad that anyone’s will could be taken so easily-”

“You don’t have to explain anymore,” Mace offered quietly. “I can understand why seeing this would be something of a relief, all things considered.”

The Head Healer nodded in agreement before taking charge. “Kenobi, go in with Eerin and help her sedate him. I’ll prepare for surgery.”

“Wait- shouldn’t we try other permutations first? It’s possible that once activated, a clone might be able to order a superior officer-”

“And it’s also possible that if a lieutenant is activated, the entire army will turn,” Mace snapped. Obi-Wan bent his head, chastised. 

“Right. Yes. I’ll go- find Bant.”

An extremely long hour later, Master Che returned from surgery. Masters Mundi, Koth, and Yoda had left to and fulfill the other thousand and one duties of a council member not unravelling a Sith conspiracy at the heart of the Republic, while Master Aerdo had been dispatched to talk with Quickdraw as well as some of the other troopers in the hidden Medical bay. 

“It’s a chip,” Vokara said grimly. “Native biological material, but clearly a chip. Like you would find in a droid. Far more complex than any slave chip I’ve ever seen, and no explosive component. It would only turn up on a level five brain scan. I didn’t even think to run it before- it’s overly invasive and typically useless.”

The reduced meeting crumpled at the sight of the infinitesimally small object of control, carefully encased in a stasis slide and placed delicately on the conference table.

Proof of Obi-Wan’s future, a future that the group thought they already believed.

“We should get Master Nu,” Adi Gallia said quickly, “We’ll want our top researchers analyzing it as soon as possible.”

Koon nodded sharply. “Agreed.”

The Tholothian Master stood, “I’ll go at once- we should probably keep any mention of this off comms.”

As Master Gallia swept out of the room, Plo Koon wrenched his gaze from the stasis slide to face the healer. “Master Che, what is Eight’s status?”

“Unconscious and restrained, but he should wake up soon enough. It...might not be a bad idea to have another Jedi nearby when he does.”

Koon and Che left the room, taking the chip with them and conferring quietly.

Obi-Wan leaned forward, elbows on the table and face in his hands.

Master Windu exchanged a glance with Anakin. 

Finally Obi-Wan spoke, tentatively addressing Bant, “Could it be possible for someone...besides a clone to be chipped? If Palpatine had access to them as a child...”

Bant drew back, gaze flickering to Anakin. “I- we would have to study it more-”

Anakin interrupted, shifting in his seat. ”Master- what did I do?”

“It- it wasn’t you. It wasn’t you anymore that the person who fired on me was Cody.”

Bant exchanged a glance with Mace, before clearing her throat with a soft gurgle. “Perhaps we should leave the two of you alone to talk this through.”

The Mon Cala Healer stood and exited rapidly. Windu exchanged a glance with Skywalker before he left. “Talk through everything, understood?” Anakin nodded.

The door shut, leaving Master and Padawan alone. “I feel like I’m missing more than two and a half days,” Obi-Wan muttered wryly. “I don’t remember you three having a non-verbal communication system consisting of eye-contact alone before.”

Anakin chuckled once then immediately grew somber, picking at a loose thread in the sleeve of his robe. A thousand thoughts were swirling in his head, and he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“I- did I hurt you? Is that- is that why you stabbed me, you thought you were defending-”

“I did what?!” Obi-Wan paled, jumping up from his seat.

Anakin winced. “It’s nothing, that’s actually not important. I’m healed anyway so forget I mentioned it-”

Obi-Wan moaned, stumbling backwards over the fallen chair. “Of force- when you were trying to save me- I had a blade. I cut you down-” He tripped backwards, collapsing to the ground.

“Master!” Anakin lurched forwards, but the older Jedi scrambled back.

“I forgot my spray bottle in there,” Bant whispered outside the door. “Do you think it’s too late to go back for it?”

Mace peered subtly through the small window in the door. “Yes. They’re already on the ground. I think they’re both crying.”

“It’s been less than a minute!”

“Yes.”

“...We should go.”

“Yes.”

Unaware of their muffled audience, the two continued their conversation.

“Don’t- don’t touch me!” Obi-Wan gasped, back hitting a wall. “I don’t- I don’t deserve-”

The young knight reared back, falling from a crouch to his knees, “Is this...about the Tuskens again?

Obi-Wan blinked in confusion. “The Tuskens? What about Tuskens?”

“You don’t...remember?” The air grew cold and Anakin forced himself to continue, “What- what we talked about in the cave?”

“What we- I-” Obi-Wan thought furiously. “...Anakin. What did...what were you apologizing for in the cave? What- what did you think we were talking about?”

“Oh gods.” Anakin paled now, shuffling back.

“What are they doing now?” Bant asked the taller Master.

“They’re taking turns chasing each other back and forth on their hands and knees. They both look like they’re seconds away from passing out or throwing up.”

“I...is this a human thing?”

“No. What? Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know! Do you think this is how they usually talk to each other?”

“I think perhaps they don’t talk to each other, and that’s why they’re like this.”

“Right, right... I really want to hear what they’re saying.”

“Hm. I don’t.”

“Why are you also standing outside the door then?”

“I want to be ready to intervene if they start trying to kill each other.”

“FORCE”

“Quiet!”

“Sorry. Sorry. You think they fought then? In the...other timeline?”

“...It would explain Obi-Wan’s shatterpoint remnants better than anything else.”

“Not to mention the spice.”

“I thought we were politely ignoring the spice.”

“...and then I brought her back to the homestead for burial.” Anakin bowed his head, tears streaming against his will. “I thought...Master I know I can’t fix this but I’m sorry- I already stepped down from my position as General so I wouldn’t be in a position to kill anyone else- I need you to forgive me.”

“Oh Anakin.”

“What? What happened?” Bant asked urgently. 

The Master of the Order appeared unruffled in the force and human visible light, but the tips of his ears were heating up in infrared. She stood on her toes to see in.

“Oh- they’re hugging? Seriously? That’s what you’re embarrassed to see?”

“They’re clinging to each other like younglings. It’s undignified for a Jedi Master and Knight”

“Alright that’s it- we’re going. I really don’t think Anakin’s going to jump from crying and hugs to murder.”

Unaware of their newfound privacy, the two inside withdrew from their embrace, still sniffling slightly. 

“Thank you, Master,” Anakin said in a shaky tone. “I swear I won’t let you down, I’m going to do better.”

“I know, my padawan, I know. I’m going to be there to help you this time, I’m not going to leave you alone with- well I’m not going to leave you alone.”

Anakin smiled wetly at Obi-Wan’s careful avoidance of Chancellor Palpatine’s supposed Sith alter ego, refocusing on Obi-Wan and making intense eye contact.

“What did you think we were talking about?”

Obi-Wan looked down. “It doesn’t matter,” he whispered. “It- it never happened.”

“Ori’vod, please. You- you mentioned younglings. I did something else unforgivable didn’t I?”

Obi-Wan smiled but didn’t look up. “And i forgave you anyway. Even when I thought your apology was just a fantasy. But it wasn’t, it was real, and- and the people actually are unmurdered so...it’s not worth talking about it.”

Anakin bit the inside of his cheek, gut roiling. “You...really think I might have a chip in me?”

Obi-Wan’s eyes snapped up. “I...don’t know. I didn’t even know that Cody had a chip in him.”

“You just...were suddenly betrayed by everyone.” 

“Not...everyone. Most who refused to fall in line were executed, of course, but there were a few senators who stood with the Jedi, secretly.” 

A new wave of cold terror passed over Anakin. “What happened with the other senators?”

“Like I said to the council earlier, from what I heard they cheered Palpatine on. Thunderous applause.”

“That’s not what I mean- Padme, Was Padme alright?”

Obi-Wan buried his face in his hands, shuddering.

“Anakin- I don’t know what to tell you,” he said in muffled voice. “I don’t want to deceive you but- things were dark. If I tell you everything now, I’m afraid of what you’ll do.”

Anakin winced. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I’m not...evil. I just...I messed up, and I want to make things better.”

Obi-Wan sighed, and pulled Anakin so they were seated next to each other in a mirror of the false peace a few days earlier. Anakin leaned into his Master’s side, feeling the cold retreat. “You’re not evil Anakin, but what you did to the Tusken village wasn’t exactly a small thing. I- look- Ad’ika-”

Obi-Wan hesitantly placed an arm around Anakin’s shoulder and the cold retreated a bit more.

“If the council accepts my plan, we’re going to have time together over the next few weeks, to talk more about...everything. We’re going to end the war- save everyone. I know the cave wasn’t what either of us thought it was, but it still meant the galaxy to me. I love you, no matter what...and that conversation, what you said. Well, it gave me the strength to go on, to do what I needed to.” Obi-Wan froze. “Not my, um, self-inflected injuries- that’s- obviously that wasn’t your fault-”

“You thought you were hallucinating. I know.” Anakin smiled, feeling honestly amused at the absurdity situation for the first time. “I’m going to mock you for that for the rest of our lives, you know that, right?”

“I look forward to it.” Obi-Wan smiled.

A vise that had been clenched around Anakin’s heart since he broke down the door to their apartment finally relaxed. “You really weren’t trying to kill yourself,” he sighed happily.

“I was attempting to stay alive. Honestly concerned about dehydration. I wanted to stay in the daydream, but I knew I couldn’t. And part of that was because you gave me the strength to keep going. Sorry I did such a bad job honoring that but, well. You know. Thank you, Anakin. For saving me twice over.” Obi-Wan’s voice was utterly earnest, though it was a touch more embarrassed than he was used to after the single day of utter unrestraint. 

Anakin’s eyes welled up. “I’ve been- I hated that you would just leave like that, give up-”

“Never Anakin,” Obi-Wan vowed. “I will never give up on you, or this galaxy.”

He twisted so he could throw both arms around his padawan.

“I swear by everything I am I will keep going. It’s... in my nature but gods is it easier with you besides me.”

“Even though i’m a child murderer twice over and once removed?” Anakin joked weakly, clinging desperately to Obi-Wan’s presence.

Obi-Wan shuddered. “Too soon, Anakin. Too soon.”

Part XXI

#star wars #my au #star wars au no 27 #suicidal misunderstanding au #star wars au #starwars

[broadwayandnetflix]

Overprotective, Much? - Bill Hader x Reader

Theme: Fluff + Angst

Warnings: Sexual Terms, Language 

Summary: You and Bill have been secretly dating for two years now, only to complicate things one night when you partake in a very risque sketch unbeknownst to him?

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: Ahhh Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays! This was a request sent in by @berkmansbabe​ I really hope you enjoy it! And it somehow fits what you were asking for! Have a good rest of your year everyone, hopefully 2021 is better? 

It was nearly four in the morning the last time that you checked, and you were almost half asleep over your laptop. Squinting one eye open, you gazed around the room to find a selection of your coworkers staring at you with little smirks.

"You're drooling, Y/N," one voice calls out; it had to be Mulaney's.

"Okay, you didn't have to tell her that!" another one chimes out, Jost?

Furiously you wipe the drool that was currently dangling from your chin and give the two the meanest glare that you could possibly muster.

At four in the morning, Tuesday's were the worst. Okay, well, technically, it's Wednesday now.

Mulaney only smirked before sliding a post-it note your way. You grimace, reading the details of the message scrawled out in what appeared to be Jost's messy script.

P. G. A. D, weekend update, orgasms onstage.

You practically gape at the note in awe; you were a writer, weren't you the one who was supposed to write this shit? Not perform it.

"Um, I'm not complaining, but isn't this more up Kristen's alley?" you protest, trying not to sound whiny.

"She's on vacation this week, and honestly we think you'd be perfect for it." Jost says matter of factly, giving you a small smile.

"Fine," you sigh before flopping back onto the table to get some more sleep. Earning another chuckle from the boys.

-

It ate at you all week, but I mean, you had the potential. If anyone would understand your feelings, it'd be Hader. His anxiety always got the best of him, and it hurt you to still see the man so stressed and uncomfortable.

Often, you'd be the one to find him after a sketch, rubbing soothing circles into his back. While he stares off rigidly into the curtain, he was fantastic at his job; it just didn't sit well with his anxiety. Although you knew it followed him home, into the late hours of the night, disappointment settling in.

It wasn't public, but the two of you had managed to make things work for the past two years. You had met Bill back when he had first arrived at 30 Rock, as you had gotten hired the same year Mulaney did.

Seth, who was practically your best friend at this point, could tell within an instant that you harbored a small crush for Hader. Often picking at you with little side comments that'd make you stammer and feel your body heat up in embarrassment.

For some time, you didn't even realize that Bill had reciprocated your feelings until he asked you on a date. The two of you curled up back at his place while he showed you some of his favorite movies, it was nice, and the rest was history.

The only problem was, it was safer not letting the rest of the group know about this advancement. God knows what they would do to Bill onstage with sketches...you didn't wanna know.

Alongside the fact that the two of you had quite a bit of an age gap, it wasn't that big, but you knew that Bill often internalized the seven-year gap between the two of you. You were only twenty when you had started at 30 Rock while Bill was twenty-seven. You loved him nonetheless, but you could tell it made him stress a little.

So you both kept it a secret, although you were pretty sure that Meyers and Mulaney knew at this point. While Jost continued to remain oblivious towards your little endeavor.

For this sketch in particular, maybe it was best to keep this one secret as well. Rarely did you ever perform on the show, and you wanted Bill to be proud.

-

Seth, who had been motivating you all week, motioned you into his office early Thursday morning.

"Okay, just spoke to Lorne about this, we're gonna fit you into one more sketch due to Kristen's absence." you nod apprehensively.  

"It's the easiest thing ever, all you have to do is sit there with Franco, and Hader, and read the cue cards about environmental issues. Keenan will cut you off, and you should be good." Seth explains before giving you a quick thumbs-up, causing you to smile slightly.

"God I am so nervous, is that normal?" you admit as Seth sits back into his seat.

"Oh my god yeah, it is not always easy going up onstage like that, but trust me you have the talent and potential. Lorne hired you for a reason, I'm sure if you brought this up to Bill he could give you a few tips on how to release stress." Seth replied as he gave you a warm smile.

You nodded, thanked him for the advice, and began heading back towards the writer's room to help the rest cut the left-over sketches that you all had mulled over during that week. Only to run straight into someone, their hands instantly going out to hold your shoulders steady. 

"Oh I'm so sorry I didn't even see where I was going!" you yelp, only to look up and see Bill trying to hold in a laugh. Only causing you to laugh slightly as well at the situation the two of you were in. 

"You okay?" he asks sweetly after taking in your somewhat frazzled state; without a second thought, you shook your head and went into his arms.

"I'm just stressed," you murmured into his chest as he quickly reciprocated the hug and wrapped his arms tightly around your waist. 

"About what?" he replied softly, his hold growing just a little bit stronger, that is until the two of you heard nearby footsteps and quickly broke away. 

A random production assistant walks past while you and Bill clear your throats awkwardly. 

"Uhm, I am actually going on a sketch this week, you're gonna be in the same one actually. It's with Keenan, I just barely ever go on, since I am a writer, you know?" you exhale softly, only to look back up to Bill. Who is nodding furiously in agreement.

"Oh my god, I mean, you know me," he stops to chuckle, "Y/N, I am a literal mess, I mean don't act like I am totally oblivious to you and John changing the cue cards before Stefon sketches." Bill exclaims as you find yourself beginning to smile.

"I mean, it's really cute seeing you break babe," he fake gasps. "I mean you just make it look so easy sometimes even when I know you're stressing out." Bill sighs slightly before meeting your gaze.

"It's not easy, it never is. It's just you learn how to cope over time, if you want I'll meet you at the end of the sketch. Does that sound okay? Just like you always do for me, which I can never thank you enough for." he says, grinning as you slowly nod in agreement. 

Giving you a quick peck on the forehead, he explains he has to go back to his costume fittings and that he'll see you later in the night. 

He always knew how to help. 

-

You watched anxiously while Seth said the cue that would lead you on stage. Letting yourself take a deep breath, you allowed yourself to block out the situation's overwhelmingness.

 Also, was it always this hot up here? 

With the cue cards coming into focus, you delved into the script, finding yourself ease into it over time. It was comforting to hear the audience laugh at your delivery, often seeing Seth trying to hold back a grin. 

Especially upon the time, you began to describe what made your character Tamara Parks go into orgasms from her specific condition, of Persistent Genital Arousal Disorder. 

"With the help of my physician I was able to find treatment, and today I can say that I am fully-" you let out a moan, trying not to break as you look down. Only to continue on the moaning and the appearance of discomfort as the script goes on. Seth progressively tries not to laugh as well.  

It almost was shocking that you were pretending to be aroused on live national television. Still, clearly, you were doing something right given the reactions that had been intended. 

You began to find yourself grateful for the ability to look down and away from the audience to compose yourself against the fake orgasms you were portraying. Seth's hand leaning to rest upon your shoulder, setting your character's orgasms off even more until the sketch was nearing its finish. The crowd applauded as Seth called you offstage. 

-

You had let out a breath that you didn't even know that you had been holding the minute you had left the stage. Clearly, you had done the job just as Meyers and Mulaney had anticipated, the crowd going wild, it felt nice, but you also felt like you needed a nap. Many of your coworkers had come up to congratulate you, but all you wanted was just to see Bill.

 Except, Bill and Fred were going up to another sketch for Weekend Update, you had asked a production assistant for some water as you took a seat in a nearby corner. It wasn't long before you had spotted Mulaney from out of the corner of your eye, within seconds; his eyes met yours, and he rather awkwardly stumbled over.

You had to stifle your laughter at how ridiculous he appeared in that moment, his rather tall figure colliding with the floor as he slid down beside you. 

"You did fantastic out there! See, I knew you could do it!" he whispered enthusiastically while nudging you playfully in the side.

The two of you commented on the show's progress and or which sketch that you had written was your favorite. Until your stage manager had motioned for you to go on for your second sketch of the night. John gave you a reassuring smile before giving you a little push off into the side wing you were supposed to enter on. 

-

The sketch was going well, that is until you felt an intense stare out of your peripheral vision coming from Bill, who was sitting beside you. Instead, it felt more dominant and tense than comfortable and safe as his thigh began to press up against yours. You gulped slightly before Keenan made his way over to you, feeling Bill's thigh against yours, almost making you lose control. 

The skit's premise was that Keenan's character would never let the guests speak, which was probably a good thing as soon as the cameras went off of you; you had to stifle a moan of your own, a real one. 

You were flustered beyond belief, and you couldn't tell why for the life of you that Bill was screwing with you on live television, but he was, and it was working. Of course, you appreciated the man's dominance but now was clearly not the time, except all you could feel was the heat pooling at the pit of your stomach. 

While you were slightly annoyed with him, something about that leather jacket he was wearing was really turning you on. Or the way he did all of this was genuine ease like he wasn't putting you in complete arousal right now was so intimidatingly hot. 

The crowd's cheering almost caught you off-guard as you realized the sketch was over, and Bill and Franco were getting up to leave the stage. You almost had to steady yourself as your legs felt wobbly and out of place, but you managed to maneuver yourself off the stage with as much grace as you could possibly muster. 

It didn't take long for you to feel Bill's hand slip under yours and tug you along to a back room, his taller figure looming over yours with a side of him that you had never seen before. His lips practically hovering over yours as you inhaled deeply and ultimately tried to compose yourself only to stammer your words a little bit.

"Um, heh, what did you do that for?" you murmured quietly so that only he could hear you.

"You really think I would let you get away so quickly with that sketch, I simply had to remind you that you're mine babe, mine." he growled as he leaned down close to your height, whispering the words in your ear. 

Your breath hitching at the contact, goosebumps spreading directly across your skin, and your heart skipping a beat. Except, you were in public, for crying out loud; why couldn't he have waited to save this for the bedroom later tonight?

"I-um, Bill did you forget that this is sorta a live show?" you retort back, stepping away from his slight hold. It finally hits you all at once, "Wait, Bill, are you jealous of my sketch with Seth?" you quickly ask, his eyes widening before quickly denying it.

"What? No of course not since when do I get jealous Y/N?" he says defensively, only to see you start to form a small grin.

"Oh my god you totally are!" you practically yelp, his eyes staring daggers at you.

"Hader, quick change happening for Daveheart in four minutes!" Bobby calls as he walks past the two of you unbeknownst to the little debacle going on. 

Bill's eyes darting between yours and the dressing room, you sigh and motion for him to go-on for how you would somehow resolve this later. After the door closes behind him, you allow yourself to slide down against the wall once again, trying to compose yourself after everything that had just happened.

-

It doesn't take long for him to find you, this time in a Scottish get-up, you were assuming, and still painfully as ever, you still couldn't help but think that he looked hot, even with his long brown wig. 

He sits down beside you, looking at you with a hesitant look in his eyes. 

"Okay, so maybe I am jealous okay?" he admits quietly, completely catching you off guard. "It's just sometimes I wish we didn't have to have this weird age gap, or have to worry about judgement from others or the press. I guess, just seeing you like that today, it just really made me jealous. Proud of course, I mean babe you killed it out there, I didn't even notice that you were anxious. It's just hearing you moan like that, god that was so hot, the things you do to me." he says, no longer making eye contact as he goes into his little tangent. 

God, you loved him. 

You sigh before wrapping your hands around his, before slowly pushing forward to envelop him in a kiss. He hesitates for a split second before going in at once, his hands reaching up to cup your face deepening the kiss.

It was like a breath of fresh air whenever the two of you had kissed, whether in the late nights after shows and you can see the sunrise. Or in walks home from work, fingers entwined, and quick glances before sneaking a quick kiss, or even just whenever Bill can spare one. 

The two of you pull away, only to catch your breath for a second. Bill's wig now tousled, and his eyes staring at you with admiration that you couldn't help but melt under. 

"You know Bill, I wouldn't change a thing about us. I love you just the way that you are." you say softly, sneaking in a little kiss before pulling away to finish your statement, a small pout grazing his lips. 

"Just maybe not during a live sketch, please?" you giggle softly, his eyes never leaving yours. 

"Hey, Y/N, I just wanted to say that you killed it out there-woah, what's going on here?" Seth calls out, startling the two of you; you moving to jump away before Bill quickly stops you.

"We're dating!" you blurt out randomly, "we have been for the past two years, and its time that we probably tell others about it."

 You clamp your mouth shut, ignoring Bill's jaw-dropping, and focusing on Seth entirely.

"Oh my god I knew it! Mulaney get your ass over here, we've been right this entire time! Hader and Y/L/N have been boning for two years." Seth yells over to John, who was busy cleaning up the cue cards as the show was coming to an end for the night. 

You practically groan, digging your head into Hader's chest in pure embarrassment as Mulaney comes bounding over to cheerfully laugh at your combined misery.

"And to think that Jost said that we were lying about the two of them, guys come on we're gonna go tell Colin!" Seth exclaims, beckoning for the two of you to follow to the writer's room down the hall. 

"Might as well join them," Bill whines as he pulls you off the ground and drags you along after them. 

#@broadwayandnetflix #bill hader imagine #bill hader x reader #bill hader x you #bill hader #fluff #angst #snl #saturday night live #john mulaney #seth meyers #2020 #request

[certified-dumbass02]

Alright yall, this is my first crack at an xreader or second person ficlet. I never actually felt the desire to read any until I saw Black Widow and fell in love at first sight with Yelena (self-explanatory). I don’t think I ever would have tried this but I was inspired by the lovely @peachbear88 and the song Clouds by Borns.

Let me know what y’all think

~*~

Clouds

Clouds

“Lena! Let’s go watch clouds!” You shout excitedly, bouncing up and down on your toes as you poke at the lump under the covers. A soft groan emanates as a blonde head pops out from her cocoon, blankets clinging to the top of her wild bed head like a nun’s habit.

Bleary green eyes squint at you as her face pinches up in an adorable yawn, and for an instant, you almost feel bad for waking her early on a weekend when she usually sleeps in. Almost.

You know Yelena, when she’s fully alert, has an active imagination that relishes its chances to run wild. Her mind works a mile a minute, and her watchful eyes catch everything with the excitement of a child and the experience of a worldly woman. It’s one of the many things you love about her. This activity is right up her alley, even if she doesn’t know it yet.

“Clouds? Is that a show?” Her accent is thicker and her voice rougher from sleep, so you grin at her and pat her head fondly as you sit on the bed next to her. She grunts, mumbles something about not being a cat, but leans into your hand as you smooth her hair down anyways.

“Not a show. It’s where you lay in the grass, look at the clouds, and try to see if you can interpret any shapes out of them.”

She frowns slightly. “Isn’t it supposed to rain today?”

“No! It’s the perfect day to go to the park. So sunny.”

A delicate blond brow quirks up, and you find yourself wondering how someone with sleep crust still in her eyes can look so devastatingly beautiful. “If it’s sunny, there won’t be clouds to watch, no?”

Yelena’s long eyelashes flutter against the back of your hand as you wipe the crust away adoringly. “Partly cloudy. But still sunny, so no rain.”

She smiles at you, soft in the light streaming through the window, and nods. “Alright, let’s go watch the clouds.”

~*~

The blanket beneath you is soft beneath your back, the sun warm on your face, and the smell of fresh cut grass fills the air as you lie in the park with Yelena, watching clouds.

As predicted, she’s taken to it like a duck to water.

“That one! That one right there!” She points excitedly, hand jutting up in the air in front of you. “It’s clearly a grenade launcher!”

You open your mouth to protest, but no sound comes at as you squint further at the cloud, because hey that actually does kind of look like that grenade launcher Yelena brought home that one time and giddily mounted on the-

“And that one is most definitely a ladybug,” she points at a different one, closer to her side.

Your face breaks into a smile. Yelena’s imagination is stretched so far to accommodate all she is and all she’s learned in her life; the way her mind works has you looking fondly at her in wonder and awe.

You recover yourself and your bearings before she notices you staring. “That one is a swan.”

She cocks her head slightly at you and frowns. “It can’t be a swan. Look at that spot of cloud up near its head - it doesn’t belong.”

“Ahh but my dear,” you tut, bopping her nose lightly as she giggles. “That spot is a trumpet for our dear bird.”

She grins in delight as she understands. “Like the Trumpet and the Swan!”

You nod at her with an answering smile and hum you agreement. Yelena had found that book on one of your bookstore adventures and had, perhaps surprisingly, adored it. Her copy is still proudly on the nightstand beside the bed at home.

After the swan cloud, the two of you continue gazing, with the suggestions becoming progressively more ridiculous as the afternoon wears on.

A juggling clown. An exact imitation of the country of Vietnam. An elephant on a unicycle. A World War 2 tank. A sickle and hammer, as you eye her with a smirk and she shoves you playfully with an exaggerated roll of her eyes.

Maybe, it is that shove that knocks your sense out of you.

Maybe it’s the way the sun glances off her golden hair and lights up her blazing green eyes. Maybe it’s the fact that her smile fills your chest with air at the same time it knocks it out of you. Or maybe, it’s because it’s been on the tip of your tongue for months now and you just don’t see the point in shutting your mouth any longer - was there ever really a point?

Whatever the reason, it comes bubbling out of you, and you open your mouth anxious and eager and praying you don’t stutter or trip over your words because you want it to be right. Yelena deserves right.

“Hmm,” you hum, looking at her from the side of your eye. “I think that one looks like my future.”

She frowns slightly, brow furrowing in confusion as she turns her head to squint at you. “What?”

You grin, feeling more confident now, because of course this is exactly what you want to be doing, who you want to be doing it with. “That one looks like my future.”

“The dark, shapeless blob is your future? Doesn’t seem very promising.” She tuts in that blunt, sarcastic way of hers.

You’re turned fully on you side now, facing her as she turns to face you, and her smart mouth has you burst out in raucous laughter, like it always does.

“You’re not even looking at the clouds! How can you say one looks like your future? What does a future even look like?!” She splutters in indignation as you start sucking in breaths in between cackles. Yelena tries to glare sternly at you, to no avail. She is a deadly, dangerous woman, but she couldn’t intimidate you if she wanted to - and she would never, ever want to.

Deciding to abandon her half-hearted glower, she proceeds to sulk cutely.

It’s this pout finally calms you, and you smile. It’s maybe the softest smile you’ve ever done, and this is definitely the softest you’ve ever been, but somehow it feels like you’ve done this before. It doesn’t feel scary, or overwhelming even if this is new to you, because it feels like you’ve loved Yelena your whole life.

“You’re right. I wasn’t looking at the clouds,” you say, letting it hang suspended in the air for a moment so you can fully relish the second it clicks for her. You see exactly when it does; her green eyes widen and her cheeks bloom a pretty, dusty pink as your smile grows impossibly larger and softer. “You. You look like my future, Yelena Belova.”

For an instant, it seems like she truly believes you - she flushes deeper than you’ve ever seen. The next instant it changes, like she wants to believe you, but a battle rages in her eyes between the faithful and the skeptical. The instant after that, she shakes her head almost imperceptibly, mouth pursing and she scoffs, laughing you off.

You see it for what it is. Her sound is dismissive, not out of apathy, but out of fear. Her eyes roll, but snap back to you, practically begging you to be sincere - to mean it, because for some ungodly reason no one else has. Cagey as she is, she will never ask for it aloud.

Yelena very carefully gives you an out; it’s as much to protect her as it is to protect you. You could join her, laugh it off as a corny joke and avoid this, probably forever, or you could stay and embrace it.

As if you could ever do anything but stay.

You reach out a hand, setting it down in the grass half the distance to her stiff, rigid body. Almost automatically, Yelena reaches out with her own, and as you twine your fingers together, you see the tension melt from her form.

“I mean it, Lena. Anytime I try to think about my future, all I see is your face over and over. It’s like I was sleepwalking before I met you, but then you woke me up,” you whisper gently, because these kinds of soul-bearing words are made for quiet, intimate murmurs, not loud, boisterous declarations. “A life without you would be no life at all.”

The blonde beauty you’ve found yourself enamored with inhales sharply, like you’ve hit her in the gut. The green eyes you associate with warmth, with laughter, with home, flicker with hope, but still, she seems conflicted.

Hoping to finally put her mind at ease, you squeeze her hand and smile again. “I love you, Yelena. I don’t want anything, or anyone, but you. I want to go wherever you go, then come home together to a closet full of pocketed vests and flannel and a whole pack of dogs. Nothing else could compare.”

Immediately, it’s like a damn breaks. She swiftly launches herself at you, burying her face in your neck and nuzzling the pulse there. If you feel wetness on your skin as she mumbles out an “I love you too,” you don’t mention it. Instead, you grip her tighter, warmth from her body and her words seeping into your bones like molasses.

You two lie there for sometime, love admissions pouring from you both like free-flowing wine. Eventually, she settles her head over your heart as you rest your chin on blonde hair.

“So what do you say, Lena? Will you be my future for forever?” You ask, running the pads of your fingers lightly over her knuckles.

She grabs your hand, kisses your palm simply. “Yes.”

You can feel the ghost of her smiling lips still on your palm, so you bring your twined hands up to your own grin and buss her wrist and the knuckles you’d mapped out earlier. “Even if it means being dragged out to watch clouds with me?”

Yelena turns then, humming in faux consideration. “The activity could grow on me in time. Not unlike you,” she pauses for a moment and then smirks devilishly. “Or a rash.”

You bark out a laugh. “Wow, comparing me to a rash? We’re off to a great start.”

You watch as green eyes roll, knowing and happily expecting to see as much for the rest of your life. “Well, you proposed by comparing me to a fat rain cloud,” she shrugs. “I think we’re even.”

“It’s not a rain cloud! It’s a perfectly normal cloud - and hey! I wasn’t even looking at that cloud, remember?”

“It absolutely is a rain cloud. You implied I was large, amorphous, and filled with liquid, liable to ruin outdoor sporting events and the days of small children by pissing all over them.”

“I so did not! And it isn’t going to rain!”

“Yes it is.”

~*~

It rained.

Smiling into your kisses with Yelena’s warm hands on your neck, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

#yelena belova #yelena x reader #yelena belova x reader #yelena x you #yelena my beloved #black widow #i tried i guess #i think I have a thing for chaotic blonde Russian assassins

[storyoffracturedstars]

Return (IDV Ganji Gupta)

It was quiet, almost too quiet. You couldn't help but feel fear bubble in your stomach, your mind doing its best to dismiss all your anxious thoughts. You couldn't allow yourself to lose your calm since your ability wouldn't work if you did.

You were a Miko, a Japanese shrine maiden who went into the mansion to find out what had happened to your sister. You had heard that she had gone missing from your brother-in-law so you did your best to help him search for her. In your quest to look for her, you found a letter on your front door one day which told you that they know where she was in exchange for your participation. Due to the desperation you felt, you immediately went to the location that they had sent you.

And now, here you were, doing your best to figure out these cipher machines. At first, you weren't sure how to fix these but with the help of some survivors, you had somehow grown familiar with these machines.

Your eyes wandered around cautiously, slightly alert of your surroundings. You let out a small sigh of relief when you heard the familiar popping of your cipher, it's light opening to signify that you were done. "That should be fine." You walked around the corner of the map, doing your best to stay hidden from the hunter.

You took your three talismans from their hiding spot, eyes looking around as you ran. Your eyes widened when you heard the familiar beating of your heart, stopping in your tracks to look for a hiding spot. You then spotted a nearby locker, opting to silently creep towards it. You held your breath once you were inside, eyes peeking through the holes of the locker to see if the hunter has passed by you. What you didn't expect was a familiar man to pass by your locker, hands clutching his stomach as he ran away from the hunter that followed him.

Once you were sure that they passed by, you walked out, your feet taking you to a safer spot. Once you were sure that you were safe, you let out a deep breath, your eyes closing as you concentrated.

You summoned one of your talismans, allowing you to see everything around you. You allowed your energy to direct it towards the survivor of your choice, which in this case is Ganji. Beads of sweat rolled down your forehead as you concentrated. It didn't take long for you to spot him, your talisman sticking to his back. You let out a wince as you felt his injury transfer into yours, your eyes soon opening due to the sudden pain.

You stood up and limped towards the nearest cipher machine, biting your lips to ease away the pain you felt. There was only one cipher left and you needed to decode. 'Come on...'

"You really need to be healed, you know?" Your heart jumped as you turn your head towards the source of the voice. You let out a small sigh of relief when you saw that it was only Emily. Her hands were crossed as she looked at you disapprovingly, causing a chuckle of embarrassment to escape your lips. "I'm sorry."

The silence between the two of you was welcome, allowing Emily to work peacefully. "Thank you."

"Don't be, it's my job." She waved you off as she headed towards the cipher machine, "Will you check Ganji? I'm pretty sure he's injured right now, seeing as it's the Ripper we're against."

You let out a nod as you sat on the ground, eyes closing to fully concentrate on finding him. You saw how they slowly neared your area, heart beating in fear as they did. With a hasty sticking of talisman, you opened your eyes to warn the survivor beside you. "The hunter is near, hide!"

"But the cipher...!"

"No time!" You heard Emily mutter a curse under her breath as she let go of the cipher, the two of you running away from that area. You were a few feet away when you felt the familiar pain of being hit. You wheezed as you dropped to your knees, eyes shut as you placed your hand on your back.

"(Y/n), come on. I'll heal you when we're somewhere safer." You nodded before shakily standing up, following Emily in her tracks. When the two of you were deemed safe, you dropped to the ground, Emily immediately working her way towards you. "I swear that Batter if he hurts you once more, I'll bat him myself," Emily whispered, causing you to laugh.

"At least I know I have you, Emily."

She stopped healing you when you heard the familiar siren, signaling all of you that the doors could be opened. You felt the pain ease away as you stood up, your feet taking you to the nearest exit gate. When the two of you reached the exit gate, you saw that Tracy was already there.

"Is your robot at the other door?" You asked as she nodded, doing her best to open the gate as fast as she can.

"Ganji?"

"I haven't seen him yet." You cursed before sitting down, closing your eyes once more to use your last talisman. You directed your talisman to look for him but you felt your hope dwindle when you couldn't see him. 'Come on...!'

You were about to give up when you saw the trail of blood, your talisman soon following its track. Your eyes widened when you saw how near the hunter was to him, your talisman immediately sticking on his back just a split second before he could be hit.

Your eyes opened when you felt the familiar pain, hands on the ground as you coughed out blood. "(Y/n)!" Tracy yelled out as the gate behind her opened. They were about to heal you when you saw the familiar red beside the door, a signal that the hunter was going to teleport to your area. You looked at the two females, hands signaling them to leave "RUN!"

With slight hesitance, the two of them ran towards the exit, the feeling of guilt swallowing them as they left you. Your relief was short-lived as you heard the thumping of your heart. You saw how a shadow enveloped your figure, your head slowly turning behind you to see the Ripper.

He let out a wide grin as he grabbed your feet, dragging you all the way to a chair. "Let go of me!" You struggled against his grip, kicking the hand that held your ankles. "(Y/n)!" You heard your name being called and you swore you could feel your heart stop when you saw Ganji.

You grit your teeth as you stared at him, your usual quiet voice rising in volume, "Ganji leave!" You could see the slight hesitation in his eyes before his eyes steeled, "Leave me!" You yelled out as you struggled against the hunter's grip, perceiving it to be futile against their grip. You saw how he chased after the two of you, eyes full of determination. Determination to save you.

"I said leave me! I won't forgive you if you save me!" He stopped in his tracks and you could feel the hunter drop you, your eyes widening at the sudden impact. You directed your eyes towards him, eyes begging for him to leave as you grit your teeth together. "Please Ganji... Don't rescue me..."

You hated how painful those eyes stared at you as he left. You hated the slight hesitance he held before he did. You bit your lip as you looked down, doing your best to stand up but it was worthless. You felt him drag you once more, not finding it in yourself to struggle as you closed your eyes. You felt him tie you in the chair, the chair lighting up as you prepared yourself to be propelled into the air. You let out one last breath before smiling at the Ripper, "I'll be sure to beat you next time."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You hummed quietly as you wrote the figures onto the piece of paper, silently hoping that you'd recover soon. You wanted nothing more than to go back to the matches but with your current condition, you knew that it would be long before you could. You let out a sigh, eyes looking outside the window.

"What are those?" A sudden voice broke you out of your serenity. You glanced at him from the corner of your eyes before placing your brush back in its container. You turned your body to face him, a soft smile present on your lips. You carefully showed them the piece of paper that you have been working on ever since you were situated here in the medbay, "These are called talismans, they help me support the others during the matches."

"Are those the things that healed me when we were..." You nodded, your fingers delicately tracing the writings on the talismans. "It's not that they healed you, It's just that they transfer your injuries."

"To who?" You merely let out a smile as you continued writing, not finding it in yourself to answer his question. You heard him sigh at your silence, feeling his stare bore into your form. There was silence between the two of you, the awkward kind where you knew he wanted to ask you something. You waited patiently for him to ask you whatever it is despite knowing what it was. It wasn't long before he did, his voice barely audible, "Why did you do it?"

"What do you mean?" You looked at him, head tilted innocently to gesture him to be specific. He let out a sigh once more before muttering under his breath. "Why did you waste your talismans on me?"

You let out a chuckle, your hands reaching the side of his face, a soft expression present on your face. "You looked like you were in pain, I wanted to lift some of it off." He removed his face from your hold, a subtle blush gracing his cheeks as he looked away.

"You're an idiot." He grumbled as you smiled, nodding your head in agreement.

"I know."

You saw how he stood up, eyes staring into yours. "You better come back soon. I want to return the favor." Before you could say a word, he turned around and walked out of the room. Your heart warmed at his words, your smile never once leaving your lips as you chuckled. "That idiot."

#ganji gupta #idv ganji #ganji #batter #idv x reader #idv #idv imagines #idv batter #idv ganji gupta #ganji x reader #batter x reader #identity v #identity v x reader #identity v ganji #identity v batter #x reader #idv fanfic #idv fanfiction

[ketchupqueenboiiii]

Black Cat and Desert Flower

'Kaldur, what are we doing in Paris? We finished the mission, we should be heading back home.' Said Robin, via mind-link.

'Patience, my friends, I arranged for us to have a day in the city. A vacation, if you will.' Aqualad said to the team.

'Kaldur, I don't know if you noticed but it's night.' Kid Flash was also getting impatient.

'Why are we standing under a bridge with a bunch of locks on it?' Superboy asked. He hated not knowing things.

After busting a minor league drug ring in Versailles they expected to relax in the Bioship until the arrived back in the US, not stand under a bridge.

'Can you at least tell what we need 'patience' for-' Kid Flash whined until he was interrupted by a voice.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my city?" The voice was like steel. In a way it sounded like Batman's. Not in sound, but in its tone of command. It sounded young and feminine.

'Brace your selves.' Said Robin, hands inching towards his tool belt.

'There are 6 of them. Should we attack?' Superboy adds.

'No. These are friends.' Aqualad sounded completely at ease. It would have calmed them if he wasn't always calm and collected.

Before they could refute he walked into the moonlight. They heard the voice take in a sharp breathe. So they recognized them, maybe it will prevent a fight.

"I am no less than a black cat." What? The team had no idea how this conversation took such a turn. What was she saying?

"And I am no more than a desert flower." What was their leader saying? It must have meant something because the voice squealed and a figure clad in red and black polka dots came barreling at him.

'Stand down.' He sound completely unbothered. How could he be so whelmed?

'But she's-' One tried to reason.

'Stand down, she is a friend.' He sounded, breathless? Something was going on, maybe M'gann should do a scan of his mind when they get back.

The force of the girl's impact knocked them both over. They were both smiling, eyes never straying from each others. They got a clear view to analyze the girl. She look developed and fit, but still pretty small. She shouldn't have been able to knock down a door, let alone a military trained Atlantean. Was this a secret Kryptonian?

"You're, you're here," she sounded out of breath, though clearly out of amazement rather than the run. "Oh kwami, it's been to long. Is Roy here too?" How did she know Roy? Did she know all of their civilian I.D.s?

"Sadly no, Speedy is not here. But my team and I are." He said as they stood up. They could see exactly what she was wearing. A red and black skin tight body suit with a open black leather jacket and a hood. The bodysuit was red down to her navel and black the rest of the way. Each of her palms had a black circle with a unknown ideogram in red on them. Her shoes were black army boots with red laces. So she has a theme.

She moved her gaze behind Aqualad to look at the team. They took note of her mask. Her hood covered her forehead and her eyebrows, and she wore a mask connected to her body suit that cover everything nose and down.  Leaving only her eyes exposed.

"Aqualad, who is she?" Artemis asked, hands already itching towards her arrows.

"Team, this is Ladybug. Ladybug, this is the team." He introduced, stepping away to allow them to assess each other.

"It's an honor to meet you all, Aqualad has spoken fondly of all of you. Welcome to Paris." She greeted professionally.

No one returned her greeting. They looked to Aqualad for more context.

He then gestured to Ladybug to speak. "You're probably confused as to who I am. I'm Ladybug, one of the heroes of Paris. We surfaced to reclaim a misused ancient magic artifact."

"Who is we?" Robin asked.

"Well, I realized that one city to one hero wasn't an equal ratio. So I formed a team to take some of the responsibility. Bunnix, Carapace, would you like to introduce yourselves?" A woman with an umbrella jumped from the top of the bridge and a man walked out from the shadow behind Ladybug. Both taller than her. Based on their themes, the man was Carapace and the woman was Bunnix.

"Sure thing, Boss." They said in unison and with exaggerated bows and salutes.

"Good Kwami, don't call me that." She said, pinching her nose.

"Our deepest apologies, Master. We beg your forgiveness." They spoke in unison again and with straight faces, too.

"God damn it, I'm not even fully trained-" She was interrupted by poorly muffled laughter behind her.

"Singe, you've been doing this for 3 years, and you still manage to reveal your presence in almost every situation-" Robin felt like he should interrupt before this escalates.

"Is that an umbrella?" He genuinely wanted to know.

"Are you judging? 'Cause, you shouldn't judge since you spent a year or so running around Gotham in green panties and a pole." Robin blushed in embarrassment. The team looked ready to fight these so called heroes.

"Ryu!" Ladybug reprimanded, looking affronted. Wait, Bunnix didn't say it? Then, who did?

"I'm so sorry about her. They're all really defensive about the umbrella." Okay?

"Who spoke then?" Kid Flash asked, still looking all little miffed about the comment.

"You know, Aqualad, there's enough of us for a spar." She said smirking, and ignoring Kid's question.

"If we're sparring, I want a few minutes with who ever said that stuff about Robin." He said glaring in no particular direction.

"Actually, I was thinking we do a group spar. Aqualad's team versus mine."  She suggested.

No one seemed to be against it.

"Okay then, prepare yourselves-" Aqualad started.

"Wait! I have to call of Pegasus." She brought her hand up to her ear and looked toward a building.

"Woah-woah-woah, hold up, you have a sniper?!" Kid Flash exclaimed, speedily looking around to see them.

"You have to be prepared for anything." She responded after finishing her comm-call.

"Yeah, but still, you have a sniper-"

A turquois portal appeared and a white-haired man in a brown leather bodysuit stepped out of it. His hair was held back in vertical braids gathered in a ponytail. He also wore pitch black sunglasses, even though it was the middle of the night.

"Hello." He greeted the teams before walking to stand next to Bunnix and Singe.

"Let's get ready to spar." Aqualad announced, walking not-to-subtlety towards Ladybug. The teams both walked of to strategize.

"You sure your ready to fight me again? It's been a couple months since our last spar." She quipped with pop of her hip and challenging smirk.

"If my memory is correct, you were the one with the losing streak." He smiled back with his patented sass.

"We'll see about that." They shared eye contact and a firm hand shake.

With a quick turn of a heel, "Formation!"

Bonus #1

For more context: Mari and Kaldur were not always this touchy feely. Mari spent a year or so out of Paris to train for Guardian purposes. She would have cataclysm herself before leaving Paris alone. But Tikki and Plagg convinced her that she was unstable with all of the guardian power and she would have to learn to control it. Outside of Paris. So they decided to give out the miraculous and have the new team pass around Tikki and she would take Plagg out of Paris (too many billboards and Plagg wasn't good at emotions).

So she was backpacking America, trying to find someone to help her. Unfortunately someone found her. Namely Aquaman and his partner.  Interrogating her just left them both offended.

But she did learn that she was now fluent in ancient languages, like the guardian language and Atlantean.

("What are you doing here?"

"That's not your problem."

"You sunk Atlantis! Of course it's our concern!"

"You Atlantean's think you're entitled to everything. That's why Plagg sunk your city."

"{In Atlantean} My King, should we take her to Poseidonis-"

"{in Atlantean} Excuse me, but I'm not going anywhere other than out of this cell."

"{In English} How do you-"

They call in the JL for backup and try to interrogate her, until Diana vetoes and pardons her. She offers to take her to Themyscira and train but Arthur vetoes that so now she's going to train with Roy and Kaldur. [Because they are the oldest and I believe that they worked together most pre-canon YJs1.]

{Whispers and Glares}"Atlantean bitch."

{Whispers and Glares} "Guardian scum.")

5 months and numerous fights later, Roy was tired friendTM of their shit and sat them down to make them talk. They spoke of both versions of the Sinking of Atlantis and came to the agreement that Plagg was sorry for taking things too far and that modern Atlanteans could not be blamed for the mistakes of one of their selfish past monarchs. [king whoever tried to use Plagg's miraculous to conquer and terrorize neighboring kingdoms, so in retaliation Plagg cataclysmed the entire country/city]

After getting over that they both realized, 'Hey, he/she's actually pretty cool."

Everyone kept in touch after she went back to Paris and bitched to each other about teammates and leadership and how it's, quote-unquote, 'unfair that it's legal for Mari to drink but not Roy'

I'm not good with timelines so I'm going to say that, Kaldur still has hopes for him and Tula, Mari's not entertaining anything more than friendship (no distractions), and Roy is too focused on teenaged rebellion.

#maribat #kaldinette #kaldur'ahm x marinette #reposted on ao3 and wattpad

[justmypartner]

Still Breathing: Chapter 4

Summary: AU | When a case goes sideways, Hailey wakes up in the hospital with a revelation that leaves her evaluating her life. While she recovers at Med, she meets Jay, an aloof, yet intriguing patient that catches her by surprise. The two get to know one another as they take on the task of rediscovering what it’s like to truly live, and eventually learn their lives intersect in more ways than one.

Writer’s Note: Hello all! I hope you are enjoying this story so far! I don't have much to say other than I so appreciate the kind comments I've gotten thus far! I really enjoy the feedback and discord after posting a chapter, so keep it coming - I love to hear your thoughts. Enjoy!!

Read on AO3 or below

A glow of sunlight filtering in through her curtains pulled Hailey out of a deep sleep the next morning. As her eyes fluttered open, part of her was waiting for the other shoe to drop. For it to be just another dream that would morph into a nightmare and leave her waking with tacky, sweat-covered skin and an irregular pulse. It took her a moment, but she eventually realized it wasn’t another dream. She was awake, and she had just slept fully through the night, unobstructed by her haunting memories. A naive thought credited it to Jay’s text from the night before, but the cynic in her figured it was just her many nights of restlessness finally catching up with her. Whatever it was, she was glad for that one night of freedom. It wasn’t enough to convince her the nightmares were gone completely, but she was willing to take what she could get. 

When she checked the clock on her bedside table, it read 15 minutes before her alarm was due to go off. She climbed out of bed then, figuring she could use the extra time with how much longer getting ready took with one arm still out of commission. Showering was a hassle, doing her hair was nearly impossible, and getting dressed required a specific strategy she hadn’t quite perfected yet. By the time she had gathered the last of her things to stuff into her duffle, it was time to go.  

The final thing she did was pull her sidearm from the safe in her bedroom and secure it in the side of the bag. She found it strange to wear her star without her weapon. It left a misplaced feeling in the back of her mind like she was forgetting something, but it was a feeling she knew she’d have to get used to over the next few weeks. 

As unexciting as desk duty sounded, she was glad in a way that she’d be able to ease back into things. She wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but after everything that happened, the thought of going into the field was unsettling. Physically she was feeling 100%, with exception of her arm still being in a sling, but mentally she wasn’t prepared for the field again. She was more than ready to be back at work. She hated being out, leaving the team short-handed after only two weeks of joining them to solve just that, so she was eager to get back to them. She was just glad that the shooting’s effects on her body provided a reason to disguise the mental ones that left her hesitant to get back on the streets. 

When she finally made it to work, she took a deep breath before climbing the steps into the district. She wasn’t sure what to expect. She warned the team against any sort of welcome back. At her old district, it was a tradition to greet cops who were injured on the job with a grand welcoming, but she always hated the idea of it. The attention was bad enough, but she always thought it was strange to celebrate someone almost dying for simply doing their job. Immediately as she reached the top of the steps, her shoulders relaxed to see the lobby empty. Not even the ever so illustrious desk sergeant was at her post, so she took the opportunity to sneak upstairs. 

She was surprised to be greeted with a vacant bullpen. She wasn’t sure who she was expecting, but she imagined at least someone would have beaten her there. As she moved through the space towards the locker room, a low wince behind the desks stopped her in her tracks. She then heard what sounded like someone falling over, followed by a murmur of suppressed laughter. 

“Okay, what the hell is going on?” she finally questioned, both amused and muddled by the unsourced noises. 

“This is officially the last time I include Ruz in a surprise,” Kim said, shaking her head with an enlivened grin as she and the other two Intelligence members climbed out from behind the desks.

“You stepped on my foot, what’d you expect me to do?” Adam bridled, causing Hailey and the others to let out stifled snickers. 

God, did she miss those idiots.

“Sorry, Upton. This was supposed to be a fun little welcome back, but I guess it’s a bit anticlimactic now so uh, here,” Kevin said, extending the cup of coffee in his hand out to her. “Welcome back,” he smiled, his contagious smile enough to get her grinning from ear to ear. 

“Thanks, guys,” she said quietly. “You didn’t have to do anything, but I appreciate it, and I’m just glad to be back.”

“We’re glad you’re back,” Kim said, the two guys nodding in agreement. Hailey smiled, dipping her head sheepishly before cutting the sudden silence with a sigh.

“Well, I still need to hit the locker room, but I fully expect a rundown of what I’ve missed while I was gone when I come back,” she told them before turning on her heels and heading down the hall. 

As she was putting the last of her things into her locker, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She sat on the bench behind her as she retrieved the phone, tapping the screen to read the message that had just come in. Her face instantly lit up when she saw who it was from.

Happy first day back! Kick ass!

Her fingers tapped out a response quickly. 

Kinda hard to do that from a desk, but I’m sure I’ll find a way lol

She settled on it before pocketing the phone and making her way back into the bullpen. The team caught her up on what she’d missed, and she told them about how uneventful her recovery was, leaving out the part where she met a new friend. They dished out all of their details, work-related and non-work-related until Voight eventually showed. He took only a brief moment to check up on Hailey and welcome her back before they dove into the day’s case.

Hailey spent the rest of the day combing through pod footage, making phone calls, and digging up any other information she could to relay back to the team. It wasn’t the most glamorous part of the job, but it kept her busy and it helped her to find her groove again. 

By the end of the day, they were unofficially able to close up the case. They still had batches of paperwork to fill out, but other than that it was pretty cut and dry, so Voight sent them home.

As they exited the district, her three fellow officers expressed how happy they were to have her back for the last time that day. It gave her the warmest feeling as she realized she got to work with some of the best people she’d ever met, but it also made her happy to have been so clearly missed by them. Walking out with them she took in every smile and every laugh. It was such a trivial moment, but it was the kind of memory her new outlook on life made her want to cherish.

When she pulled up outside of her place, a car she’d never seen along her street before caught her eye. It was a baby blue, vintage, convertible of some sort. She wasn’t much of a car person, but it was just one of those cars no person could refuse to appreciate. After one last glance at it, she hopped out of her own car and made her way up to her front door. She froze when she saw a friendly figure perched on her small stoop. A confused smile crept across her face as Jay stood, shoving his hands in his pockets as he sauntered towards her. 

“Hi?” She greeted, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Hey, how was your day? Did you kick ass?” he asked casually, now standing only but a few feet in front of her. 

“Good, and I guess as best as I could behind a desk… what are you doing here?” she asked, her eyes darting around in confusion. 

“In honor of your first day back, we are going to cross something off my list,” he told her. His words coming out slowly, and she noted the way they came out as a statement rather than a question. 

“It better not be the one where you jump in the Chicago River,” she challenged, pointing a finger out with her words. He let out a chuckle, his mouth twisting into a sinister smile. 

“No…” she muttered, a sudden bout of fear rising in her. 

“I’m kidding, come on,” he instructed, brushing past her as he nonchalantly headed out toward the street. 

It was only when he stopped at the driver’s side of the car that she realized the connection.

“Wait, that’s yours?” she questioned, a look of disbelief on her face. 

“Don’t look so surprised,” he replied, the rise in his voice’s pitch revealing to her that he was bluffing. All it took was one raised brow, and he immediately caved. 

“Okay fine, it’s a loaner. I’ve got a lot of friends in high places,” he shrugged, steadying a hand against the top of the door as he jumped over it and into the driver’s seat. 

Since they’d met, she’d tried to keep her thoughts about him purely platonic. For the most part, she’d been fairly successful, but there was something about the way he jumped into that seat so smoothly that was so damn hot. That, the green beanie he wore that brought out the forest color of his eyes, and the way he looked so confident in that car had her questioning her feelings for a moment. She stood on the sidewalk looking over at him, slightly lost in a lingering gaze as butterflies danced about in her stomach. It was only when he cleared his throat that she was snapped out of it. 

“So, you coming or what?”

“Coming where?”

“It’s item number seven on my list, rent a convertible and drive down Lake Shore late at night,” he smirked, one arm propped against the headrest of the passenger seat and the other draped over the steering wheel. 

“Okay, that actually does sound pretty fun. Let me put my bag up,” she told him, lightly jogging to her front door before haphazardly tossing the bag into the dark space and locking up again. As she approached the car, he leaned over and pushed the door open for her, and she slipped into the passenger seat. 

“Ready?” he asked, and she confirmed the question with a nod. 

When he started the car, the roar of the engine was loud enough to send a judder through her bones. When he sped off down the street, she found herself instinctively clutching at the sides of the car for stability. She was filled with equal parts fear and exhilaration as they raced up and down half-empty streets. 

By the time they reached Lake Shore, the sun had already set, but twilight brought out a deep blue tinge that stood out against the city lights. It was like she was seeing the city for the first time. Like she was falling in love with it all over again. That view, with the roar of the engine, wind blowing through her hair, and the 70s roadtrip music he’d put on playing through the old stereo made her feel like she was in a movie. He drove the road until they reached just about the outskirts of the city. He pulled the car off somewhere near Montrose beach and got out, quickly running over to her side to open her door. 

“And they say chivalry’s dead,” she teased, masking the way the simple act had her stomach doing flips. He rolled his eyes at her, a slightly embarrassed smile on his face as she stepped out and he pushed the door shut behind her. 

“So what are we doing here?” she questioned as he led them closer to the shore of the lake. 

“I don’t know. We ran out of road, the lake’s pretty in the moonlight, and after a boring day of desk duty, I feel like it’s not a half-bad way to end the night,” he said simply, sitting down on the ledge by the lake. 

As she sat down with him, she quickly realized how much colder it was by the water. The brisk wind brushing against her skin through the open top of the car was one thing, but the coolness of the lakefront breeze was almost intolerable. She suddenly wished she’d thought to grab her jacket from her duffle before they left. As she settled down beside him, she clutched her arms tightly against her chest as shivers jumped through her body. Before she knew it, as if he had read her mind, he shimmied off his jacket and held it out to her. She thanked him, a tone of gratitude and hesitation in her voice as she pulled it on over her shoulders. When she did, she noticed him glancing over at her badge still displayed on her hip. His eyes lingered there before he realized she’d caught him looking and he quickly diverted his eyes, holding back whatever question the object had generated. 

“What?” she asked in an attempt to pull it out of him. 

“Hm? Nothing,” he shrugged off. She knew it wasn’t nothing, but she decided against pressing him for whatever it was. She knew the job was a touchy subject, and she figured it was best to leave it alone.

“So I’ve been meaning to tell you, and I may sound crazy for this, but part of me feels like your text last night actually worked,” she informed him, fidgeting with a loose pebble she found on the ground beside her. 

“What text?” his face contorted as he seemed to comb through his memory from the night before. “Oh wait… no nightmares?”

She shook her head.

“First night without them after more than three straight. Maybe you’ve got some sort of magic touch,” she half-joked, her tight-lipped grin growing across her face.

“I don’t know if I can take credit for that, but that’s good. You deserve that peace,” his voice was soft and low, and she didn’t miss the way his cheek dimpled slightly when he flashed her a small smile.

“So what’d you get into today?” she asked him, tucking one of her legs in and twisting so that she could face him.

“Um let’s see, I had a doctor’s appointment this morning, went to the grocery store, had a therapy session this afternoon, you know, all very exciting things,” he said, counting out each activity on his fingers.

“You go to therapy?” she asked, instantly regretful of the almost judgmental tone she carried as the words left her mouth. She just couldn’t help but be surprised that someone like him, a cop, a veteran, a man would be so open about it. She realized the thought only played into the toxic mentalities surrounding mental health and masculinity that she despised so much, but part of her also wondered if it was her own reluctance to start therapy that made her so staggered by the idea. 

“Yeah, for a few years now. Based on your reaction, I’m going to assume you don’t?”

“I’ve done the mandatory sessions with the department shrink after shootings before, but never anything consistent. How’d you get started?” she wasn’t even sure if it was an appropriate question to ask, but she was so intent on knowing more that she didn’t take time to second guess it. Though, she was relieved when his face read an expression of musing rather than one of annoyance. 

“There’s a bad take we often absorb as cops — as people really, but even more so as cops. We get injured on the job, we do whatever we need to do to heal, and we jump through whatever hoops we gotta jump through just to get back out there. The problem is there’s such a focus on our physical healing that we neglect what needs to be addressed mentally. I went through my whole life doing that. You get to a point where after so many times of telling people you’re fine, you start to convince yourself that you are,” he inhaled deeply, staring out at the lake briefly before he brought his eyes back to her and continued.

“Thing is, you do that for too long and you start to lose sight of what’s real. I was so against getting help, so against the idea that there was anything wrong with me that I began to just accept the fact that I was suffering. Then one day, that sense of reality I’d lost came back and bit me… hard. After that, I started going to therapy, very reluctantly at first, but eventually, I realized it was saving me. Helping me get to a place where I was healing instead of dealing, and I haven’t turned back from it since,” he finished, tightening his lips together as he peered into her eyes with a look of confidence. Like he knew everything he’d said was exactly what she needed to hear. 

“Damn,” she whispered, blankly staring out at the lake as she processed his words. She blinked rapidly to recede the tears that had emerged. She’d spent her entire life, best put in his words, dealing rather than healing. She was no stranger to trauma, in fact, she was far from it, but she was a stranger to properly addressing it. She wasn’t against therapy, she just figured she didn’t need it. That she was doing fine on her own, but that one conversation with him was making her think otherwise. 

“Well, maybe I should add therapy to my still breathing list,” she quipped, her best attempt at lightening the mood. 

“Not a bad thing to add,” he smirked, his face softening as he propped an arm behind him to lean back against. 

“Well, my first thing was kinda lame, so I figure it can only go up from here,” she joked, a mischievous grin spouting across her face. He scoffed, clutching at his chest as he feigned hurt by her words.

They talked for maybe longer than they should’ve, falling into an easy rhythm back and forth as they talked about anything and everything that came to mind. Hailey was the type of person who could talk to any and everyone if she had to, but there was something about talking to him that felt like a routine. Like one that she’d memorized by heart and never wanted to go without. After a while, she realized the time, realized she still hadn’t eaten, and that she had work early the next morning.

“God I didn’t realize how late it was, we should probably head back,” she told him, pushing herself up to stand. He nodded, standing with her as he fumbled in his pocket for the keys.

“Now… I know this was for my list but do you wanna drive back?” he asked, rising to stand with her. He dangled the keys in front of her. Her face brightened immediately, and he couldn’t hold in the puff of laughter that came with it.

“I thought you were never going to ask,” she joked, pulling his jacket tight across her body with her free hand before snatching the keys and making her way over to the driver’s side. As he climbed into the passenger seat, she crossed her good arm around the steering wheel to turn the key, and the engine started with a roar. She revved it a few times, looking over at Jay whose fearful expression had laughter escaping her lips.

“Am I going to regret this?” he asked, but instead of answering she just swiveled the steering wheel to pull off the shoulder, gunning the engine down the presently empty street. 

Before long they were back at her place, and she shifted the gear into park before turning off the engine. Driving with one arm was harder than she thought it would be, mainly for the fact that the ignition and gear shift were on the right side and her right arm was still in a sling. Yet, it didn’t stop her from having the time of her life driving such a car. She climbed out after she handed him back the keys, making her way around to lean against the back bumper.

“That was incredible,” she told him, digging in her pocket for her own keys.

“Anyone ever tell you that you drive like a maniac?” he jabbed, causing her to lightly kick at his leg.

“So what else is on that list of yours?” she inquired, noting the way he shadowed over her.

“Hm, I don’t know. I kind of liked surprising you tonight. If I tell you, it may take the fun away when we get around to the next one,” he admitted, a childlike softness in his voice that made it hard for her to be mad at his obscurity. She cut her eyes at him, and she noticed the way his brow furrowed back innocently.

“Are you always this aloof?” 

“Only with you.”

She rolled her eyes at him dramatically, shaking her head at his goading. 

“Well, thanks for tonight,” she said, pulling the jacket from her shoulders and offering it back to him. 

“Next time we’ll do something from your list,” he told her as she pushed herself from the car and made her way up to her front door. 

“Sounds like a plan,” she twirled around to tell him, her lips curling up at the thought of another night like that one. 

“And Hailey,” he called out, just as she reached the top of the steps. 

“Sleep well. No bad dreams,” he uttered, a small smile creeping across his face as his hands found way to his pockets.

It was the last time that night an action of his had caused an unexpected flutter in her stomach. She was embarrassed and somewhat fearful of the way those simple words had her feeling so dippy. Maybe it was the sentiment behind them, the way he’d said it, or the stupid smile on his face when he said it, but she wondered if the feeling that he’d erupted was more than just a fleeting one. She quickly pushed that thought down, dipping her head before hesitantly meeting his eyes once more. 

“Goodnight, Jay,” she told him before making her way inside, shutting the door and locking it behind her as if it would somehow protect her from what had just happened. 

She had to blame it on her exhaustion and the slight adrenaline rush she got from the night’s events. She’d also never had a friend like him. Someone who always had the perfect thing to say, whose company felt so natural and necessary, who seemed to relate so much to everything she was feeling. It was admiration more than anything, she told herself. He was just her friend, and he’d stay that way. Yet, as much as she tried to convince herself that all of those times that night that suggested differently were just flukes, she ended the night with a looming thought that wondered otherwise.

#upstead #jay x hailey #hailey x jay #jay halstead #hailey upton #chicago pd #upstead fic #justmypartner fics #collection of Em’s fics