#Anne mere inches away from making him open his mouth so she can look at his teeth like a horse

[reachexceedinggrasp]

You're my type of man! Of course, you could stand to have a little more meat on you.

[robertppattinson]

always the gentleman: steve rogers

summary: steve rogers x reader. smut!!!!! steve keeps walking in on reader having some alone time, and goddamn it if he doesn’t wish it was him instead of an ann summers toy she’s holding.

word count: 1,900

warnings/tropes: smut, clueless!steve, tease!steve. bucky has a cameo teehee. enjoy!

-

The first time Steve sees you like this, it’s a complete and utter accident.

This meaning shaky breath, hair clung to face, a wild bucking of the hips. This meaning ass up in the air, right hand between your legs, the sweetest friction. This meaning soft mewls, almost sinful, though he was adamant you could never be anything but angelic, celestial, even. 

It’s his own fault, really. Steve knows he can be oblivious, careless. The thought of walking in on you in such a compromising and vulnerable position, bent over in your bed, in your room, had never even so much as made a peep at him before he entered without a knock. Your bed, your room; how many times did he have to remind himself? He should know better, for heaven’s sake. Getting involved with someone at work was sacrilegious, no matter what sector ‘work’ regarded. Office romances always ended badly - why should the Avengers Compound get off any easier? ‘Involved’ is a loose word for it, now that he reconsiders. He can’t be ‘involved’ with someone he has only touched in his dreams, really, truly touched like he craved with the girl who left stains on every inch of his brain since the day he met her.

It’s a miracle he has enough sense to remain still, like the carved statue he is, and painfully quiet. Steve aches everywhere; his hands, yearning to reach out and touch you; his legs, eager to step forward; his dick, aching with relentless throbs that snake all the way up his spine, prick his ears and bloom a tender blush on his cheeks. 

It’s a miracle you aren’t privy to his heart, thunderous in his chest, surely visibly protruding from his t-shirt. Golden rings still on your long, slender fingers, glistening in the sunlight poking through your open window. Wait - open window? Don’t you know somebody could see you? Not any neighbours this high up in the building, granted, but somebody? Drones aren’t hard to come by these days, he scolds you internally. And he realises in the boyish, clueless way he’s still prone to that he is that somebody watching you. He wants to leave, knows he should, but he cannot, for the life of him, tear himself away from this. From you. So beautiful, he can hardly stand it. How delicious you must taste in his hungry, greedy mouth; how gorgeous you must look above him, below him, whichever way you wanted; how sickeningly sweet you must feel clenching around him. He’s sweating, poor boy, almost as much as you are -  small, wet tell-tales of exertion on the armpits of your crop top as you work yourself closer to coming. Your legs tremble, tanned against the pale eggshell sheets strewn across the bed, bottom lip harshly bitten into. A hiss of pleasure, a high-pitched intake of breath, one last curl of your fingers and you are undone. 

It’s a miracle he finally regains control of his limbs, silently leaping out of view back out into the corridor before you turn your head towards the door, frowning, swearing you had closed it. Only a few metres apart, a goddamn-cockblocking-son-of-a-bitch wall separating you, both figures shudder and sigh blissfully. Fucked out on your bed, sensitive, you carefully draw your fingers into your folds one last time, curiously observing the milky liquid of your come, and bring it up to your mouth, moaning at the pleasant taste. 

Steve is about to leave, actually leave this time, he means it, when he hears it.

“Mmm,” a sensuous moan, almost guttural. He swears his dick has never been this hard, never wanted to pop out of his jeans so much. That is, however, until: “Steve…” 

Shit. Shit. Shit. You couldn’t have seen him, surely? A quick whip of his head to the door reveals he has escaped a lifetime of embarrassment; no sign of you. Still fucked out on your bed. But if you hadn’t heard him, then - oh. And there it was, the biggest, thickest erection of his life, and all he could do was tuck his dick into the waistband of his boxers (Calvin Kleins, after he had heard you swooning over the Mark Wahlberg and Kate Moss campaign from the 90s), and traipse sullenly to his own room. Steve felt like a teenage boy caught looking through his father’s Playboy, indignant, yet secretly proud of having found the Playboy in the first place. 

With a sigh, embarrassed, shameful and utterly, utterly horny, Steve turns back towards your door and closes it for good, polite measure once he hears the shower turn on. Always the gentleman.

-

The second time Steve sees you like this, he tells himself it’s another accident, that he just happened to be on the wrong (right) floor at the wrong (right) time. 

Looking for Bucky is an innocent act. Why his friend, more like life companion, really, would even be on this floor is beyond him, but Steve pulls out his phone and taps on Bucky’s contact. He’s wandering the floor, from one corridor to the next, when he hears a light buzzing to the east of the building. Goddamn Bucky left his goddamn phone lying around again. Goddamn it. 

He draws closer, and though his mind is slow to catch up, rusty with these lustful theatrics, the most primal part of him senses the situation immediately. The buzzing is louder now, more akin to a gentle rumble, and his dick twitches. Here he is again, outside that door. Only now, he doesn’t have to turn the handle to open it; it’s already ajar. 

Is he a narcissist for thinking you left it open for him, just him, so he could see and hear you again? 

One peek. Only one, quick peek and that’s it, Rogers, I mean it. And he does, truly - but he had also meant not to be presented with the sight before him again, meant not to drift his hand towards his own centre, for lack of a better word. It really felt like his centre - his dick, he means; everything revolves around that goddamn thing lately. He’s hard, palming himself and trying not to have his mother’s shrill voice in his head, yelling at him to stop being a pervert and pull himself together. 

But he can’t, and he’s petulant towards this fact. He can’t, not when you have never looked quite so riled up. Eyes rolled to the back of your head, mouth gaped open in a silent scream, thighs trembling. Small hands forcefully wrapped around a pink vibrator - a rabbit, he thinks they call this particular type - that gets slightly twirled around until you find the right spot. You come much quicker than when using just your fingers, practically writhing around as if you’re being electrocuted. This vulnerability is insanely captivating, Steve notes, this openness. Whenever he jerks off, in the shower, in his bed with a condom (a posh wank, you had called the concept once), he does so quietly, stealthily, still coy and afraid of someone hearing him. Suddenly, there’s nothing he wants more than to have the whole Compound hearing his name slipping from your cherry lips, echoing through the glass and metal. Just the mere thought drives him crazy, hand down his jeans to touch himself properly when you come for a second time, harsher, more sustained and by God, there it is again:

“Oh, Steve… fuuuuck.”

The deliciousness of this barely has time to register before he feels the familiar release of his own orgasm. Right in his jeans. Goddamn it all to hell. 

He’s lucky they’re a deep blue, almost black, so he can walk to his room without arousing much suspicion. It’s wildly uncomfortable, and more than a little gross, but he’ll take what he can get. 

“Hey - you rang?” 

Fuck off Bucky, I swear to God.

“Uh, sorry. Butt-dial,” Steve offers, shuffling awkwardly, trying to get past his miscreant of a friend as quickly as possible.

Bucky raises an eyebrow in question, but decides to let it go. Many years together have taught him to keep to his own business unless Steve asked for help himself, or was otherwise unconscious and covered in blood.

“Alright… I’ll be upstairs if you need me. Wanna show Y/N this new album I’ve been listeni-”

Steve storms off. Always the gentleman.

-

The third time Steve sees you like this, eyes cloudy with lust, squeezing your thighs together for some, any, kind of relief, it is by no means an accident. 

Grey joggers cover his bottom half, his chest bare and t-shirt discarded in a crumpled up mess next to him. He doesn’t know what has come over him, this sudden bravery to practically gallivant his penis in your face as you try to concentrate on the TV, gripping the nunchucks much harder than usual. Wants to test you, he supposes, confirm his suspicions. He’s hopeful, and he has every right to be.

You’re not the best driver as it is, never mind that this is Mario Kart, but the willpower it takes to keep your eyes on the screen is inhuman. Every other second, though, your vision flits towards his groin, mentally tracing the outline of his dick. He’s big, of course, even when flaccid. Your mouth waters involuntary at the conjured up image of him at his full hardness, lining himself up just before his head enters you. 

“Stupid fucking-” you grunt, hitting random buttons in vain as your character is knocked off the track and falls into the water. 

Groaning at your new sixth position (you were just second, for crying out loud), you glance at Steve, who is smirking at you already, having just pushed himself into first place and finishing the track. 

“Language!” He laughs, a big, boisterous sound that makes you nervous. You loved making him laugh - your favourite pastime. Aside from making him come in his jeans outside your door, of course. 

“Funny you should say that,” you begin, tongue wetting your bottom lip anxiously. Come on, Y/N, time for you to be brave now.

“Oh?” 

“You weren’t telling me off for swearing yesterday.”

Silly Steve, it takes him a moment to process the comment. You take the opportunity, can see his cogs turning, to stand up in front of him. And you peep at his joggers, too, but who can blame you?

“… Oh.”

You hold out a hand, shaking almost imperceptibly, inviting, tempting him. “You coming, Captain?”

He’s too far gone to even try to resist, and his hand feels so… so homely wrapped around yours. You reach the door of the games room and before you can pull it open to scurry upstairs, Steve releases your hand and pries the door open himself. 

“After you, doll.”

You know he does this just so he can look at your bum as you walk up the stairs, so you roll your eyes to the heavens, and he smirks again, his brain working faster now and picturing you rolling your eyes in a different, imminent way. 

Steve has been raised right, of course, would never dream of letting a girl, especially his girl, walk through a door without opening it for her first. That’s what he tells himself, at least. Totally not so he can check you out. Always the gentleman.

[jamespotterthefirst]

Birthday (Ethan x F!MC)

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 1,200+ Warning: Some adult language Premise: On her birthday, Ethan shows up at her door with a gift.  Author’s Note: Pointless fluff. Part 2 coming soon :) 

______

Of all nights, she did not want to be alone on the night of her birthday. Lilac had spent her medical career resigned to the idea that being a doctor meant postponing celebrations because of impossible shift hours. 

It didn’t make it any less lonely.

The phone's screen was almost blinding in the darkness of her room. Her fingers hovered over his contact name, recklessly wishing she could just call. But then, what would she say if he picked up? 

“Come sleep with me, Ethan.” 

The rejection would be more crushing tonight than ever. 

With a frustrated sigh, she threw her phone aside on the mattress. Willing all thoughts of piercing blue eyes away, she shifted on her bed, her covers a tangled mess on her limbs. 

It wasn't long before a resounding bang startled her upright. Lilac climbed out of bed, determined to investigate, before she remembered it was only her and Elijah in the apartment, the latter sound asleep in his room. Sienna was on the emergency shift, Jackie had an overnight babysitting gig with the neighbors, and she hadn't spoken much to Aurora to know with certainty where she was. 

Before panic could set in, she heard a familiar voice from the hallway outside their door. 

“Fuck.” 

The last thing she expected to see when she opened the door was the very man she had just spent hours thinking about, kneeling down at her feet, looking equal parts exasperated and flustered.

“Ethan?” 

He straightened up at the sight of her, almost jumping, his handsome face flushing with color. It took him a moment to compose his features, schooling them to his usual, inscrutable facade. “Did I wake you?” 

“Not really,” she replied. There was something almost urgent about his expression, despite his feeble attempt to hide it. A thought occurred to her. “What’s wrong? Did something happen at the hospital?”

“No,” he assured her. “Everything is as usual.”

“Then, what —” she started, but her eyes landed on something at her feet. In her shock at seeing Ethan, she hadn't noticed what he had been kneeling over. It had fallen over when she had opened the door. 

It was a book, and by the looks of it, a very expensive one. Lilac bent down to pick it up and for a split second, Ethan looked as though he might protest. Instead, he shut his eyes, the pink flush coloring his cheeks deepening still. 

“‘Anne of Green Gables,’” Lilac read out loud. It was a beautiful edition, one she had never seen before. The gleaming leather of the cover felt soft against her touch as she looked up at him in confusion.

Ethan, on the other hand, looked as though he wanted the floor to swallow him whole.

“It’s your favorite book, isn’t it?” he asked when he finally seemed capable of speech, his tone uncharacteristically doubtful. “You told me about it on the drive to Evelyn’s gallery.”

Lilac stared back at him, stunned. 

The night of their patient’s exhibit, she had raised a brow at the audio book that automatically played when he started his car: Howard Zinn’s A People's History of the United States. After teasing him relentlessly about how predictable that book choice was, he challenged her to suggest something better. Lilac hadn’t hesitated to name her favorite childhood book, the title said so casually that it could easily be forgotten. Except, he hadn’t forgotten.

“You remembered,” she whispered at the same time Ethan hurriedly said, “It’s for you, for your birthday.”

Their eyes met, locking together like magnets. 

“I wasn’t sure if you owned this edition. I found it through a Canadian bookstore online,” he rambled, no doubt as an attempt to fill the elongated pause.  “It wasn’t my intention to wake you. I was only going to leave it by your doorstep and go. Except I dropped it and probably woke your whole building.”

For once, she was rendered entirely speechless. The mental image of Ethan scourging the internet for a rare copy of a book she confessed to loving once made her throat tighten for some inexplicable reason. Soon after, she felt an unwelcome prickling at the back of her eyes. She averted her eyes down to the book, the beautiful golden, embossed title shining back at her. No one had ever done something so thoughtful for her and realizing this made her chest tug longingly. 

It occurred to her that he was probably expecting her to say something.

Before she could, Ethan swept his hand down his face, evidently embarrassed and probably irritated at being so. 

“God, this was a mistake,” he muttered. “I should go.”

“No,” she said quickly, finally finding her voice. Her hand flew out to his arm as he moved to leave. “Stay.”

Those eyes that drove her to insanity studied her, something raw and vulnerable in them. Heart thundering, Lilac was certain the same could be found in hers. 

“Ethan,” she whispered. He closed his eyes in turn, the words a caress. 

In the loaded silence that followed, the yearning from the past weeks became palpable, pulsing between them in the mere inches that separated their bodies. Neither could ignore it nor resist it anymore. 

Paying no mind to any rational thought, Lilac closed the space between them in one quick stride, taking his mouth in hers. A small moan escaped her when he responded at once, pulling her body close to his, hand losing themselves in her hair. His mouth, softer somehow than she had remembered, opened for her, his tongue leaving a searing trail along her lower lip. 

“Ethan,” she gasped when his beautiful lips moved to the column of her neck. 

His response was a groan, lost against her shoulder. It made her body thrum with unrestrained desire. His powerful hands, desperate to hold as much of her as possible, inched under the hem of the over sized t-shirt she wore to bed. 

“Lilac?” Elijah’s voice came from his doorway. 

They sprang apart at once. 

 “Oh, Dr. Ramsey,” he said with surprise, stopping his chair abruptly in the middle of the hallway. “Good evening.”

“Evening, Dr. Greene,” Ethan returned in an even voice. 

“I heard…” Elijah trailed off, a tiny quiver at the corner of his mouth. One look at their flushed, guilty expressions told him everything he needed to know. “Never mind. Just wanted to make sure you were okay, Lilac.”

“Fine,” she muttered, still breathless. 

Her friend’s poor attempt at a serious demeanor cracked slightly and Lilac felt her face flare with heat. With a smile too mirthful for her liking, Elijah announced he was going back to bed, wishing them both a good night. 

“Sorry,” Lilac mumbled to Ethan once he was gone. “It’s probably not good that he saw you.”

To her surprise, Ethan shrugged dismissively. “He already saw me walking out of your bedroom once.” 

She pressed the book to her chest, at loss for what else to say. His eyes, dark from their previous embrace, scrutinized her closely. Finally, she asked, “Do you still want to come in?” 

Ethan gave her a small smile. It evoked a hopeful reaction since this would be the part where he gently turned her down. Instead, blue eyes full of promise, he said, “Tomorrow.” 

“Tomorrow?” 

“We can be at my place. No interruptions.”

____________________________________

Author’s Note: Yeah, you can probably guess what Part 2 will be ;) Hopefully that gets done sooner than later. I’m an obsessive writer!

THANK YOU for reading this pointlessness! 

Thank you @ethandaddyramsey​ and @openheart12​ for the suggestions! You are the best! 

Masterlist

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Tags: @openheart12​ | @ethandaddyramsey​ | @noboundariesplease​ | @silverlitskies​ | @the-soot-sprite | @infinitiestones | @emotionalswift2 | @flyawayboo |  @paulfwesley | @hatescapsicum​| @myusualnerdyself​ | @thatysn​ | @choicesyouplayandmore​ | @chasingrobbie​ | @trappedinfandoms​ |  @togetherwearerapture | @nooruleman​ | @caseyvalentineramsey​ | @axwalker​ | @parkerattano​ | @i-bloody-love-drake-walker​ | 

[perksofbeingaharrie]

In The Night

Another one - man I’m on the roll huh. 

Enjoy this one too. I defo enjoyed writing this one here aha 🌝

SUMMARY 

A weekend getaway with family and friends is all great even when there’s not much talking with one another in between. But the real action goes down when in the night it is just him and her. 

Type: SMUT, little angst (?) and just pure love

Word count: <3000

MASTERLIST  o  REQUEST BOX 

---

The Gerbers had to be the best of hosts she has ever come across.

Harry has dragged her along to many parties, get togethers, holidays hosted by a lot of people from the industry, but events hosted by the Gerbers is the only time she looks forward to them.

And it is not just about the great food, decoration, ambience or selection of place, but the mere fact about how coordinated and understanding the whole family is with one another.

The parents and the kids already know their place, what they have to do and how they must do it and that results in the most smooth and comfortable transition of events throughout the day.

This time around again, as Thanksgiving approaches right around the weekend, the Gerbers were very kind to welcome Harry, Anne and her, along with just two more families for this weekend getaway.

The location was perfect – their house in Canada, with the perfect firewood to warm up their cozy home and traditional food and drinks exquisitely for the guests.

Again, the coordination was beyond thought, as all Y/N could do was follow Mrs. Gerber around the house, watching how perfectly she handled everything.

Mrs. Gerber was equally kind to share everything and anything in Y/N’s company. Over the years of Harry’s and her relationship, Y/N managed to make the best of friends with the most genuine people of the industry, one such being the Gerbers.

The dinner was well lit and placed at their veranda which overlooked the most beautiful mountain ranges. The families were all seated at the long table, with the ladies to one side while the gents on the other.

Y/N was happily tucked with Anne on her side, and while she kept looking out to meet Harry’s eyes from across the table, that was all the contact she could manage all through the entire day since their arrival here.

With such a close knitted friend circle gathered in this place, it was never easy to only stick by one person the entire time, or sit with one group the whole trip. You just knew everybody and could not avoid even one of them.

So as their eyes could only meet discreetly once or twice all till midnight, this obviously could not be enough to make up for the lack of talking the entire day.

When the dinner finally was completed, and the guests extinguished to their rooms after a hearty feast, all Y/N and Harry could be happy about was having one entire guest room to themselves.

They followed Anne to her bedroom, and only after making sure she was tucked in well, they walked over to their room.

There was no doubt a little tipsiness in their walk and words from the drinks as they stumbled into their room, and immediately fell to their bed.

A moment of silence passed as they lay side to side, arms flayed like a snow angel on the white sheets. It was impossible to guess if either of them had already fallen asleep.

It had indeed been a long day.

When Harry finally sighs out loud is when there is a subtle movement in the room, and all while lying in the same position, he says on his second breath –

“We should get changed first.”

To this, Y/N sighs herself, turning to her side without much thought. At once does she come in contact with his body, she curls up into a ball and tucks herself over his open arm, snuggling into his armpit.

His hand comes down automatically too, palm flat against the small of her back like holding a baby to his side.

“You go in first please. I’ll need another minute here.” She says, dragging onto her words in a lazy tone.

Another beat of silence goes by before he, with a groan, sits up on the bed and looks back down at her.

“Just two adult introverts absolutely exhausted after an entire day of socializing.” He says, locking eyes with her.

“An entire day.” Her eyes widen in humour and he snickers into his shoulder.

Falling prey to his urge, he comes down to press his lips on her cheek, and she curls into the mattress more as he begins snogging all over the right side of her face. His nose snuggles into her skin, lips purposely kissing everywhere with a loud smack.

She finally whines out loud when it becomes impossible to breath, and he gets up, chuckling after his accomplishment.

Not done yet, he manages to even slap her behind as he gets up to head to the bathroom. He hears her tsk out loud behind him and that adds up to his satisfaction.

He comes out in good ten minutes, dressed in a soft shirt and joggers, having washed up pretty neat. He passes her on the way to the bed as she stumbles into the bathroom and in ten minutes too she is out, having removed all the makeup and now dressed in a comfy night dress set.

He is on the bed when she looks at him again, his shirt off and his phone in his hand, scrolling through his feed.

“Harry.” She scolds, climbing on the bed on her knees. “Don’t strain your eyes now. You’re tired enough.”

His head immediately snaps out of his device and he looks at her, turning off all the tabs and ready to put his phone away. His eyes scan her get up and he smiles, eyes crinkling in a fond feeling.

“This is cute.” He comments, pulling her shirt’s sleeve.

She smiles back, putting the extra pillows away and with just one pillow to rest her head on and lies her head down on it immediately.

He slides from the headboard too, turning to his side and moving closer so they now face each other as they sleep, bodies just a few inches away.

Her eyes are closed and lips pulled up in a pout, and in a small voice she instructs him – “Please turn off the lights, baby.”

He uses the switch on his side and does so, quickly turning back to her and with the same big eyes, adoring her sleepy face.

“I can still see you so clearly even after turning off the light.” He tells her, his voice now a little quieter and hush in accordance to the setting.

“Hmm?”

“Yeah, the moonlight coming from the windows is really beautiful.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Don’t you wanna look at it too?”

“Hmm.”

“Open your eyes too, and look at me.”

Her humming this time is even quieter that even from such a proximity he does not catch it.

“Open your eyes, please.” His voice is softer than before. “Just this once.”

She stitches her eyebrows together and slowly, with a flutter, opens her eyes. Though the initial look is not very pleasing, when she finally roams her eyes all over his face, it all changes.

The moonlight as it comes through the drawn curtains over the tall French windows beautifully decorates their room, falling in the right places, and his face.

She smiles at his smiling face, bringing her hand to his face and cupping his cheek, running the soft pad of her thumb against it.

“Told ya.” He answers to her expressions in a proud smile, already aware that he roped her in for a good thing.

Her smile widens and she leans forward to plant a peck on his lips.

Though what was intended a peck does not remain one – he leans forward to her as she begins moving back from the kiss, and he captures her lips in his mouth again, drawing her back to him.

What is an exasperated, happy sigh is released from inside her as he moves closer to her body with his lips pressing more into hers; to the extent that when they pull away, his arm is circled around her hip and her is around his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” She chuckles, looking at his satisfied expressions.

“Kissing you?” With this, he plants another smooch on her lips.

“Okay…” She draws her word and that gives him another opportunity to kiss her. “But we can’t go any further than this you know.”

He pouts and with the puckered-up lips, leans in for another kiss.

She is quick to block him, and leans up to his ears to say in a low tone – “We can’t get someone else’s bed sheets dirty.”

His frown intensifies when she brings her face in front of him again, and he breathes solemnly, rubbing his fingers in circles on the small of her back – his patent method to pushing her into anything and everything.  

“I cannot sleep right now though.” His voice is a sad whisper.

“Hmm…” She thinks. “Why don’t I tell you about my day.”

His eyes narrow in an expression of disbelief.

“C’mon.” She chuckles, obviously enjoying his desperation. “We hardly were together the entire day.”

A beat of silence he takes to think (or actually not) and then nods slowly. “Okay.”

“Alright, so, I was with Anne and we were walking around in the lawn outside – so this is about the time when it got a little warm; maybe 2-ish –“ She goes on and on about her day, literally.

Harry listens, smiling at the way she is happy to tell him about all the sunshine and birds of the day. But it isn’t quite very deep into the story when the hand which was placed on her lower back begins to slide into her shorts from behind.

She catches the action, but not his intention.

When his hand entirely slides in and his long fingers get a grip around the full shape of her butt, for him to finally squeeze it with full resolve, does her voice squeak in the middle of talking.

“What are you doing, Harry?” She whisper-screams at him, eyes widening at him as his become narrow when he grins back at her.

“What-?” He chuckles, showing his full teeth. “Don’t worry, just keeping warm.”

She gives him the eye, but he acts to not mind any such warning and asks her to continue with her whereabouts of the day.

She is talking again, trying to piece together where she had begun and left at. But it not very late before her breathing begins to pick up. She is taking longer, deeper breaths in and she knows what’s up.

His abrupt squeezing of her behind picks up a rhythmic pace. It’s very subtle at first, and as soothing as a massage but soon there is a tension which drives into it.

She stops talking entirely. Her body is pushed up in the bed in the same pattern of his hands moving around her behind, and she is pulled back and to him too leisurely to be any subtle about the undertone of it all.

She breathes heavy against his mouth, their lips coming together to touch but also to not.

“I am not done talking.” She manages the words out of her mouth.

His voice has picked up the rough tone, coming right from the back of his throat. “Then talk.” He tells her, pausing his action for a bit. “I’m all ears.”

“Mmhmm.” Her eyes close in all the feels as his hand resumes again, going up and down the way her butt curves.

His fingers wind all the way to her front and then retract. Repeatedly, he takes her to this edge and watches her wither under the influence.

“You stopped talking.” He reminds her, lips pressing against her chin softly.

She moans, titling her face up so he kisses along her neck entirely.

His lips come down till her collar bones in open mouthed kisses, leaving a trail of his tongue’s mark, making her insane.

“Talk.” He pesters her again. “I’m gonna have to stop if you don-“

“No.” Her eyes open. She finds his face right in front of her again, cheeks flushed red and warm like hers, and pupils dilated like a beast in the night.

She moves closer to him, grabbing his chin in between the thumb and index finger, and tilts his to the side to angle their kiss deeper.

Graciously, her picks her up to pull her to him from where his hand already is, his fingers pressing down firm against her clit.

She quivers into the kiss, and his fingers gather their pace, drawing circles on the newly found skin.

All hell breaks loose.

Her hand goes up behind him, clutching the back of his hair and she is bringing her tongue in for the kiss, releasing the held back moan finally into his mouth. Her leg lifts up on his thigh under the blanket, spreading her core more and she is grinding to the way his fingers move on her.

He pulls from the kiss, throwing her leg off of his thigh, catching her off guard. They are both breathing heavy, even after Harry pulls his hand out from her pants.

She slowly moves closer to him again, warm, as he brings his hand up between them. He moves his one finger to her mouth, watching as she licks all over and around it, and his own mouth reaches for the index finger pointed in his direction; and they are fighting for this too.

“How are you doing? Down there?” She asks him as his hand comes to cup her face next.

He looks down into the blanket on her questions, lips lifting in a snicker and he shakes his head.

She understands this very confusing gesture of his, and instantly, her hands reach under the covers to inside his joggers.

He swallows her gasp in a kiss that erupts as her hand gets a hold of his very active muscle inside the pants, his body shaking from the touch.

“Are we really doing this?” She asks him once he pulls his lips and hands from her face, and his hand goes down to the front of her shorts.

“Listen,” He breathes, heavy, as his fingers slip inside her thin panties. “I do not know how thin or thick these walls around us are – so let’s play it safe, alright? Let’s just…keep it low.”

She grins, nodding.

They both go into work together.

Her hand wrapped around his dick get on with pace, feeling his entire length at once in an up and down stoke and thumb coming up to flick the tip in a tease. He curls more into her, their foreheads touching and breaths mixing with all the work.

His lubricated fingers are quick to feel her up; his forearm pushing her leg up his hip to spread her out more. He slides his fingers up her core, biceps flexing with the pressure he builds up inside her with his fingers curling and thumb pressing on her nub.

They’re both easily worked up within the few early minutes. After having to hold back their frustration and desire to moan and release the tension, their climax is sooner than they thought.

Together, they feel it coming.

Their eyes meet, fiery and understanding, face red and hot. Harry slides his other arm under her neck and pulls her to him. Her face lands on his shoulder while his goes on hers, and they are breathing out their hot, annoyed breaths on their skins.

He takes the liberty to bite her shoulder too, as with one last pumping of their fingers and hands, they both come undone, an absolute state of bliss and cold air surrounding them at once.

It doesn’t end there.

When they pull their hands back up, they wind it around one another, faces burying in each other’s neck and for a while they hold each other. Their breathless effort to trying to catch their breaths again ends at once, and they relax, feeling pure and together in this at once.

When they face each other again, Harry still has her neck on his arm while the other hand comes to position her face and end the night with one final kiss.

They turn their faces up to the ceiling, watching the exquisite cut work of the top and the next thing they know - they burst out laughing. Why?

“I am laughing because we literally cannot stop. Ever. Can we?” She says.

“I am laughing because…” He pauses to laugh some more. “Because we’ll have to clean now…and what if – what if tomorrow morning at the breakfast table too.”

He says and watches her eyes turn wide in horror while his own palm comes to slap his face.

“Just don’t say that. Please.” She consoles him, reaching over to give his tummy a rub and pepper his skin with kisses.

“Let’s begins a little clean up now?”

“In the shower?” She adds for him.

Their foolish smiles are the same.

“In the shower.”

[oddlybitter]

Another excerpt from upcoming Sporting Life chapter - Nothing Can Possibly Go Wrong

CW: Swearing, Abuse mention, Internalized Homophobia, Injury, Drinking, Child Abuse mention, Drinking mention.

please note that this does talk about trauma that both Akechi and Futaba have, so please keep that in mind as you read! it’s a little heavy. (if there is anything else you want me to tag, please let me know)

If one had to spare the details, Goro spent the next hour getting hammered on shitty vodka that tasted like candy. However, if one had a wealth of time on their hands, then the full story would reveal how he got drunk and a few more catalysts that would eventually add up to make the Worst Hangover Goro Akechi Would Get, Ever. 

It really started as he pushed off the wall, leaving Haru behind in a sea of people that he didn't really like, marching into any other room he could find. Somehow, Makoto's restraining wasn't enough to keep Ann from the party, and she waved at him as she expertly carried out the maneuver for a physically perfect kegstand. Her girlfriend watched on in disgust, admiration, and quite possibly (but inexplicably) attraction. 

"I'm very impressed. Mildly scared, but impressed." He said, watching Ann remove an arm and wave to someone in her gathering audience. 

Makoto took a long gulp of her beer, and nodded dismally. "Tell me about it. I have to deal with this when the party's over." 

The cheers reach a crescendo, and Ann, somehow coherent, did a little cartwheel onto her feet. "Yeah! Beat that, Iida-from-AP-chemistry!" 

Iida-from-AP-chemistry did not, in fact, beat that. 

Traipsing over to Makoto and Goro, Ann flicked her pigtails over her shoulder and scanned the linebacker's face with an eerie stare. "What's eating you?"

"Nothing is," He cleared his throat, encapsulating his next words with air  quotes, "'eating me.'" 

Shrugging, Ann made a noise of half-hearted agreement. "Fair enough, keep your cards close to your chest. Though some card games are played better with two, am I right?" 

Makoto rolled her eyes as Ann's face shifted into a mischievous smirk. "Ann..."

"What, babe? I'm just trying to help things along for our dear Joker." She said, nuzzling her face into the crook of Makoto's neck like a tired cat.  

Tired of her antics, Goro stormed through to the next room, the lights a different color than the others. It felt a little like walking through the layers of Hell. Still, he proceeded through all of them, looking for an empty one, taking a small bottle of alcohol as he went. 

Finding another wall to slump against and brood, Goro watched the glistening pool in the Takamaki's back yard, taking off the bottle cap with his teeth. The look on Haru's face as he left, the sound of the quiet whimper of fear from Futaba as she sat outside his door when he was upset, the way he felt when Akira fucking Kurusu looked at him through his eyelashes, all of them felt like consecutive punches to the gut. Goro's head hit the back of the wall with a dull thud, and through the darkness of the room, he could see the reflection of the water on the ceiling. 

After finishing off the bottle, Goro knew he should probably have given Futaba a message about how much fun he was not having. Futaba's chat icon stared up at him, a tiny cat in a frog hat, and the worst thing he could possibly think of doing was letting her hear his voice. He knew Shido didn't have an issue with alcohol, and he was more or less still coherent enough to pass as only slightly tipsy. It didn't help that on the night of his anniversaries with Wakaba and Goro's mother, Shido broke out the heavy bottles, and they sparkled like dangerous jewels behind the glass cabinet he kept locked. Slurring words and biting tones were all Futaba needed to hear to start shaking, twisting her shirt in her hands, and cowering away from any sharp movements. Goro had too many memories of applying bruise salve to her face, and on quite possibly the worst night of their lives, the dark, hand-shaped bruise that clasped around her neck. 

So instead of calling his sister, Goro spared the pain and texted her. 

"There you are." A voice called out, a tall silhouette standing in the doorway. "Was wondering where the introverts' room was." 

Goro snorted, knocking back another bottle and leaving it by the other one. Checking again, he found that yes, there were two bottles there. How he got his hands on that other one was beyond him, but the fact he was actually inebriated really sunk in then.

Walking into the cold light reflected from the pool, Akira walked over to him, a can of beer in one hand and the other tucked into his pocket. "Can I join you?" 

Waving his hand in indifference, Goro made a noncommittal noise. Sucking in a breath through his teeth, Akira crouched down next to him, poking his cheek.

"Yikes, you look like you could use some fresh air." He slid his shoulder underneath Goro's arm, pulling him to his feet. "There we go, up and at 'em, champ."

"Don't call me champ. It makes you sound old." Goro frowned, believing he could walk just fine without Akira's assistance, leaning away from him and opening the door to Ann's balcony. 

Placing a hand between his shoulder blades, Akira hissed sharply. "Shit, be careful. We don't need any casualties at a Takamaki party."

Rolling Akira's hand off his back, the linebacker gave him a sour look. "I'm perfectly capable of moving without your assistance."

"Looks like you sobered up enough to be smart-mouthed." The dark-haired boy snorted. 

Goro sighed, watching the rippling lines trace the underside of Akira's face, playing across his skin like liquid moonlight. His chest tightened painfully, and he looked away, instead choosing to run a hand through his hair. At one point, he was sure it was tied back, pulled out of his face, but it hung loose, just brushing his shoulders. Akira hummed a noise that Goro couldn't decipher the tone of. 

"Your hair," He stated, "it's long." 

Giving him a slow clap, Goro nodded. "Ever considered a job in, say, the detective business? They could use a sharp brain like yours." 

Akira laughed, somehow taking Goro's scathing insults like water to a duck's plumage. "I meant it in, like, a nice way. Long hair suits you. Makes you look pretty." 

The wry smile immediately fell from Goro's face, and he dug his nails into the palms of his hands. The way his chest was fluttering was simply, irrevocably wrong. There were rules he had to play by, and letting himself get swept up into Akira's charming whirlpool of "nice" was breaking every single one of them. 

"I probably need to cut it, then. Gets in the way, you know." He mused, ruffling the back of his head.

Suddenly realizing that Akira was close enough for Goro to smell the scent of his fruit-flavored beer, his fingers twisting through the longer strands of his hair, a hot flush crept up the back of his neck. Almost as if he was transfixed, Akira's hand stayed at the base of Goro's neck, the heel of his palm barely touching his jaw. Distractedly, Akira's grip tightened, and Goro sucked in a breath, leaning into the touch. 

As if struck by lightning, they sprung away from each other, attempting to regain their composure by leaning against the balcony railing. 

"Sorry," Akira muttered, taking a sip of his beer. 

Goro made a face. "What even is that? Smells like melted candy." 

A short laugh left Akira's lips. "Says the guy who inhaled two bottles of Ann's disgusting lime vodka." 

"Well, that's entirely the point," Goro explained, "it's disgusting, so obviously, I want more." 

Throwing his head back with laughter, the quarterback leaned his head on his hand. "That makes no sense whatsoever."

A beat of silence fell between them, the summer night's breeze running across Goro's skin like water. Guiltily, Akira turned around, leaning his  elbows on the railing, and giving Goro a look that read "sad puppy." 

"So, hate to bring this up again, but you and Haru, huh? You're really broken up?" He asked, training his eyes on the doors. 

Scowling, Goro gave him the iciest look he could muster. "Oh, of course. That's why you're here. Trying to make a good impression on your new conquest's ex? She's not a fucking vase, Kurusu. She doesn't need my  permission to do anything, much less my approval." 

Sighing, Akira ran a hand through his hair, a pained expression on his face.  "No, that's not why I'm here. It's not even why I brought you here. I wanted -" 

Anger flared like a snare drum in Goro's bones, and he snapped his head around to properly look at the dark-haired boy, clenching the railing of the balcony tightly. "That's all you do, isn't it? Want everything, ignore everything you already have, pretend that what you're asking for is trivial."

"That's not -" 

"You will never, ever understand," He finished, "that you already have everything." 

Neither of them spoke for a moment, and the only sound between them was the quiet whirring of the pool's chlorinator and the hollow sound of bass-boosted music. 

Breaking the silence with an equally fragile voice, Akira didn't even look at him. "I wanted to tell you that it was never about Haru. I'm sorry if that got mixed up, but honestly, I could never see her that way. I guess it backfired." 

"You fucking asshole." Goro hissed. "You really dislike me that much that you literally tear me away from -"

Rolling his eyes in exasperation, the quarterback turned on his heel, standing up straight. "If you would just let me finish speaking, you'd hear that I don't hate you! Not in the slightest." 

Helplessly lost, Goro pushed off the railing to stand in front of Akira, glaring furiously at his face. A mere inch separated them, and he could smell the sweet scent of that stupid beer on his breath. "Then what the hell do you think you're doing?" 

"For someone so smart, you're so fucking stupid." Akira breathed. 

Then, sliding his hands into Goro's hair, he cupped his face and leaned in, kissing him. 

[ila9182]

Prompt List #5 : I‘d really love to read something with 5 , 23, 24. I can‘t chose so you decide. Maybe you can even put all of them in one. I‘m just a sucker for hurt, angst & comfort 😍 #shandy

Thank you so much for the ask @lranyc ! I’m sorry it took me so long to write it, but it wasn’t an easy one and I’ve had some trouble to focus on my writing lately. I hope you will like it, I managed to put all of the prompt lines in the story. 

The story is an AU set in the Closer after episode 7x20 “Armed Response”. 

As always, mistakes are all mine.

———————-

5. “Sometimes I wonder if you even like me… it sure feels like you hate me sometimes.” + 23. “You weren’t there… why weren’t you there?” + 24. “I needed you! I needed you!”

A knock on the door interrupted her reading. Sharon sighed and closed the book before placing it on the small table. She stood from the couch unwillingly, wrapping her cardigan tighter around her before walking to the door. She opened it to find Andy leaning in the doorway, a paper bag in his left hand.

“Hey…” Andy offered her one of his renowned grins.

“I’m surprised to find you here.” Sharon replied blankly. She didn’t move from the door and kept staring at him.

“We’ve agreed this morning on a take-out night at your place, remember?” Andy reminded her with a smile, motioning to the bag in his hand.

“I’m not hungry.” Sharon replied in a firm voice as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Andy’s smile disappeared and he sighed, “Okay, I’m sorry for earlier…” He told Sharon in a serious tone, “Can you let me in or do we have to do this on the doorstep?”

Sharon stared at Andy and they stood in silence for a while. Andy knew how stubborn she was, but he was also aware that he had hurt her. Sharon sighed and walked away from the door, letting it open for Andy. He stepped in and closed the door behind him before walking to the kitchen to place the bag on the counter. When he looked up, he saw Sharon standing in front of him with her arms crossed. Andy sighed and cleared his throat, “Listen, Sharon… I’m sorry for earlier…” He paused as he looked for the best way to explain himself, “I was upset… finding out the leak was Gabriel… well Gabriel’s girlfriend, well it was…” He fumbled feeling suddenly uncomfortable.

“You’re sorry for the I don’t want to talk to you right now, I don’t even want to see you or for the you’ve done enough for the day part?” Sharon shot back harshly. She closed her eyes as her mind drifted back to a few hours before. She had bumped into Andy in the orange hallway about an hour after Gabriel had come clean with the team. She could tell Andy was upset by the way he was walking with his head down. She had tried to talk to him with a small smile on her face when he had cut her short with his harsh words. She hadn’t even had the time to reply to him as she had been caught off guard by his aggressive behavior, and she had watched him walk away with a hurt expression on her face.

Oh, she was definitely angry. Andy rubbed the back of his neck as he tried to say, “Sharon, I…”

“God, do you even realize the things you say, Andy?” Sharon asked him bewildered. “Sometimes I wonder if you even like me… it sure feels like you hate me sometimes.” She added in a defeated tone.

Sharon shook her head and turned her back to him. She took a few steps toward the living room when Andy stopped her by grabbing her hand, “Sharon, you know I love you.” He told her with a serious face.

“Oh really?” Sharon scoffed, freeing her hand from his grip. “There are days I seriously doubt it.” She added, letting out a heavy sigh.

“I was upset, I was pissed off…” Andy tried to explain, “I felt betrayed by someone who is a part of my team, a guy who is supposed to have my back. I didn’t see it coming… I would have never expected it…” He paused and glanced at Sharon. He knew what he was going to say would upset her but he couldn’t hold his tongue. He was upset as well. Gabriel wasn’t the only one who had betrayed him. “A little heads-up would have been appreciated.” Andy finally let out.

Sharon couldn’t believe Andy had brought this up again. She wanted to scream or to hit him, or maybe both. “Andy, we won’t go through that conversation again.” She replied firmly. “How many times do I have to tell you that I can’t share these details with you?! I can’t talk with you about my job and you know that, just like you can’t talk about yours with me.” Sharon sighed. She lifted her glasses to pinch the bridge of her nose. She could feel the start of a headache. She adjusted her glasses on her nose again and went on, “Do you have any idea what I am risking…” She corrected herself, “…what we’re both risking with this relationship? I was investigating your team, I was looking for the leak while being in a relationship with someone involved in this investigation.”

They stared at each other in silence as they let her words soak in. Andy scoffed and shook his head before he locked eyes with hers again. “Did you ever doubt me?” He merely asked.

“Are you seriously asking me that, Andy?” Sharon shot back baffled. How could he ask her that? How could he doubt her so much? “Do you think I would have gotten invested in this relationship if I had had any doubt about you?” She asked him in a high-pitched tone.

“Well, who knows?” Andy answered with a shrug, “Maybe it was your goal… you wanted to trick me, so you could get what you needed just like Ann did with Gabriel.”

Andy knew the moment the words had left his mouth that he had gone too far. Sharon closed the gap between them furiously as she raised her hand to slap him. Andy grabbed her wrist and stopped her, her hand hovering an inch away from his face. Andy tightened his hold on her while Sharon muttered between clenched teeth, “How dare you?!”

“So what?” Andy barked, “You can doubt me but I can’t?” He asked her, glaring at her.

“I never doubt you, Andy!” Sharon shot back, freeing herself from his grip.

“But you didn’t trust me enough to let me know what was going on.” Andy went on, not wanting to let go of the topic. “Provenza texted me that you left Electronics with a look that said you were up to something and that you asked to talk with Gabriel. I wanted to know what was going on…” He paused and cleared his voice, trying to contain his anger, “I texted you I would be waiting for you on the roof, and when I got there…” Andy sighed, “You weren’t there… why weren’t you there?” He asked her, frustration etched in his voice.

“Oh you know Andy, I was busy with a meeting with Pope and Taylor first, and then with Chief Johnson.” Sharon informed him irritably, gesturing with her right hand as if it wasn’t a big deal. “I should have told them that my boyfriend Lieutenant Flynn was waiting for me for a secret encounter on the roof, I am sure they would have been thrilled.” She added sarcastically.

“Sharon…” Andy said her name in a frustrated and defeated tone.

“Don’t Sharon me, Andy.” Sharon replied, shaking her head at him. “You know the rules. We both agreed when we started this relationship that we would leave work at work. At home we’re just Sharon and Andy trying to make this relationship work… and I would have expected you to support me, not to vent all your frustrations on me.” She added, her voice slightly shaking. She took a deep breath to recompose herself before going on, “Do you think it was easy for me to investigate your team? Do you have any idea what it feels like to work in a hostile environment where people hate you?” Sharon locked eyes with his before telling him, “You all call me names… Wicked Witch, Darth Raydor, Ice Queen as if I am some heartless monster, but this job is tough for me as well.” Sharon noticed Andy opening his mouth to say something, but she stopped him with a hand gesture, “But you know what is tougher, Andy? Coming back home, spending time with you and feeling that you think I am the enemy… It is feeling your anger toward me, it is having to deal with your bad mood because you think that I’m responsible for all the problems your team is having…”

“Sharon, I don’t…” Andy started.

“You don’t what, Andy?” Sharon asked him with teary eyes. “Didn’t you snap at me the night after I requested to your Chief to talk to each one of you for my investigation? Didn’t you make up an excuse not to stop by at the condo after I announced there was a leak in your team? Didn’t you…”

“Okay, since you want to rehash the past…” Andy interrupted her, “How about my stabbing case?” He shot back, trying to keep his anger under control, “You went behind my back and investigated me when I was the victim… You treated me like a criminal, like a dirty cop when…” He paused as his voice trembled, giving away his emotions. He clenched his fists in an attempt to calm himself as he went on, “I needed you! I needed you, my girlfriend…” Moisture filled his eyes, but  Andy blinked it away quickly before letting it out in a frustrated tone, “Not the fucking FID Captain!”

“I did what I had to do, Andy… I’m not sorry for doing my job.” Sharon replied in a surprisingly calm tone, “I never thought you could be a dirty cop, Andy, but I had to investigate you to clear you. Don’t you understand it?” She asked him in a defeated tone. Maybe he would never understand. “Don’t you think I was terrified when you called me? Don’t you think I was worried sick when I saw you hurt… when you collapsed on me at the crime scene?!” She went on, raising her voice slightly as she felt again the fear that had run through her that day. “We couldn’t risk everything because you needed comfort at work, Andy.” She told him softly. “Don’t you think I wanted to hold you close and tell you how much I loved you and how glad I was you were fine?” She went on in a soft tone as she looked down and remembered how relieved she felt when she saw him in a hospital bed and realized he was fine. “You knew you would have had my support at home and I was there for you that night, Andy…” Sharon reminded him with a faint smile before turning serious again, “Work is off-limits, you know that, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t hate everything about that day… I hated that I couldn’t be by your side at the hospital and most of all, I hated that I had to investigate you… but I am glad it was me, because maybe someone else would have labeled you as a dirty cop and wouldn’t have fought to find out the truth…”

Silence followed her words as Andy regarded her thoughtfully. Sharon looked away after awhile and turned her back to him as she walked to the couch and let herself fall on it unceremoniously. Sharon let out a heavy sigh before she spoke again, “Andy, I don’t want to fight anymore…” The sadness in her tone broke Andy’s heart and he immediately felt a total jerk. He carefully walked to the couch as Sharon added quietly, “I’m very tired, so if you want to leave, just leave… it’s okay.”

“No.” Andy whispered softly as he sat on the couch’s armrest. Sharon looked up to meet his gaze and Andy reached out for her face, stroking her cheek gently. “I don’t want to leave.” He told her in a serious tone. “I…” He paused, trying to find the strength to say it. “I’m… I’m sorry.” He finally let out. Apologizing didn’t come easy to him. “I’m sorry, Sharon…” Andy repeated, “I overreacted… I let my anger get the better of me, but I’ve never been angry with you. Deep down, I’ve always known you wanted to help Chief, I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner what a prick I’ve been with you…”

Sharon nodded but stayed quiet. She looked down as Andy kept stroking her cheek delicately. “I love you…” He whispered to her softly.

Sharon looked up to meet his gaze again and replied, her voice above a whisper, “I know…”

Andy leaned down to kiss her forehead as Sharon wrapped her arms around him. He moved from the armrest and sat on the couch next to her before pulling her to him. Sharon snuggled against him and Andy rested his cheek on the top of her head, his hand rubbing her back reassuringly. “I’m sorry…” Andy whispered once again before he nuzzled into her hair and dropped a few kisses on the top of her head.

They stayed in each other’s arms for awhile, listening to their heartbeat progressively slowing down after their argument. Andy’s hand caressed Sharon’s back comfortingly and he smirked when he felt her stomach growl. He looked down at her and Sharon blushed lightly.

“So, you wanna eat?” Andy asked her with a grin. “I’m hungry as well…”

“You know that I should probably throw whatever you brought in your face.” Sharon replied with a smirk.

“If it makes you feel better…” Andy shrugged with a small smile, his fingers brushing her face delicately.

Sharon arched an eyebrow, trying to keep a straight face but a chuckle escaped her lips and she started to laugh softly. She snuggled against Andy and he chuckled as well. He stroked her hair tenderly before he whispered to her ear, “You know what they say…”

Sharon looked up to him with a questioning gaze. A grin appeared on Andy’s face as he added, “Make up sex is the best sex.”

“I thought you were hungry.” Sharon replied, arching an eyebrow again, a teasing smile forming on her lips.

“Well, the food is already cold. We can still reheat it later…” Andy offered with a cheeky grin. He leaned in and caught her lips with his in a passionate and promising kiss, “Whatcha say, Captain?” He asked her in a husky tone when they pulled away, their lips still brushing.

“What am I supposed to say when you kiss me like that, Lieutenant?” Sharon purred before she closed the gap between them and went in for another kiss.

[autistic-stedebonnet]

A modern version of the ridge pole scene, but I got carried away

Avonlea springs were perfect in Anne’s eyes. Especially the oddly sunny days after a rainstorm, when the ground was damp and wildflowers were abundant. Today was one of those days, and Anne should’ve been tucked in a corner of the forest, her sleeves pulled up to her elbows and her usual jeans swapped for a flouncy skirt or brightly colored shorts.

But instead, she was sitting in the middle of a (thankfully, outdoor) roller rink for Jane Andrew’s 16th birthday party. Anne loved skating, and thought herself quite good at it. But she preferred to do it alone, and not in the company of Josie Pye. Despite being able to spend a whole day outside, Anne was just near the depths of despair over having to be civil towards Josie for a whole 3 hours.

At that moment, the teenagers were gathered at the picnic table, indulging in snacks and an entertaining game of truth or dare. Jane was returning from a failed attempt at skating a lap on one foot, when Josie Pye was dared by Moody to skate a few feet on the rim around the rink.

“Please,” Josie scoffed. “That’s the easiest thing ever.”

And much to Anne’s chagrin, the blonde devil completed the dare with relative ease.

Anne let out a mocking laugh upon Josie’s return. “That was nothing,” she said. “I once knew a girl who could skate the entire rim of a roller rink...” she paused for dramatic effect, “backwards.”

Both Diana and Gilbert stiffened as Josie’s bewildered expression turned into a sly smirk. “Alright then,” she hissed. “Do it.”

Anne’s eyes doubled in size and her freckled skin paled. “What.”

“Do. It,” Josie repeated, with an added air of malice.

Anne stood up steadily and narrowed her eyes at Josie. “Fine, I will.”

“Anne! You don’t have to!” Diana cried, leaping up and grasping her friend’s arm. “If you fall, it’s at least 4 feet down, you could really hurt yourself!”

“It’s a pretty wide space to work with, I’ll be fine.”

At that moment, Gilbert eased his way into the intervention. “Yes, but you won’t be able to see where you’re going.”

Anne shot daggers at the boy, his insistence only fueling the fire that was her pride. With a final huff, Anne glided over to the rink and stepped up to the rim tediously. It took her a moment to find her balance, but she hadn’t fallen.

Meanwhile, Diana was in a horrible state, already imagining her best friend in a bloody heap on the concrete. Josie Pye was stiff and pale. She hadn’t expected Anne to actually take the dare, and she was terribly afraid of the reputation she’d gain from being the cause of Anne Shirley breaking her neck.

Anne turned to face the group, keeping eye contact with a worried Gilbert. Halfway across, she stuck out her tongue and grinned. And then she stumbled. There had been a mere pebble that got caught in her wheel, but it was enough to send her barreling over the side and into a bush.

Diana shrieked as if she’d just been shot and skated over to her friend as fast as humanly possible. “Anne!” She cried out in dismay.

Lucky for Anne, she’d avoided a most horrible fate, by landing in a bush, but she still hadn’t moved. Her fiery hair enveloped her sheet white, unconscious face, and her ankle lay at a terribly worrying angle.

“Anne! Are you alright!? Are you dead?!” Afraid to shake the girl, Diana simply swept the hair from her eyes and caressed her freckled face. “Oh Anne, please don’t be dead!”

Unbeknownst to a distraught Diana, Gilbert was shoving past a huddle of children to reach Anne, his face white with shock and his entire body shaking.

Diana moved away, her mind just clear enough to recall Gilbert’s brief medical training. “Gilbert, please say she’s not dead!”

Gilbert pressed his hands to Anne’s neck, and then her wrist, breathing a shaky sigh of relief upon feeling her steady pulse. He felt her scalp for any injury, finding none. “She seems to have gone unconscious from shock,” he relayed. “But I don’t think she’s hit her head.” His eyes darted to Anne’s ankle and he winced. “She does seem to have broken her ankle,” he added. “But if an ambulance is called and we don’t jostle her, she should be fine.” He closed his eyes, blinking away tears he hadn’t realized had begun. Anne was okay. She was okay.

“Oh!” Diana yelled, startling the eerily silent crowd. “Someone needs to call the Cuthberts.” She reached into her skirt pocket, fumbling around for her phone and cursing her sweaty palms.

Once the information was given to a very frantic Marilla, and an ambulance called, the children were picked up by their respective guardians and taken home.

*

Anne regarded it as a downright tragedy that she’d be bedridden for the majority of and most glorious part of spring. She spent countless hours lamenting over all the wildflowers and rainstorms and breathtaking sunsets she’d miss whilst cooped up in her gable room. Despite Diana’s constant visits(and facetimes, and baked goods) she simply couldn’t bring herself to enjoy her time. I mean honestly, there’s only so many days one can spend doing nothing but reading and scrolling through tumblr.

Her horrific boredom however, was not even the biggest of her problems. She couldn’t bear the thought of Gilbert Blythe stealing her hard-earned spot as top of the 10th grade. The utter humiliation would fuel her rage for weeks to come. But she tried not to focus on that possibility, instead pouring all of her energy into assignments her teachers had emailed her and occasionally craning her neck towards the window in hopes of seeing how many flowers had grown recently.

When, 4 weeks later, Anne was able to return to school (on crutches), there was only a month left until summer break, but nonetheless, she was determined to leave that year with the prize of top student. Not that they handed out prizes, but the mere knowing that she’d beat Gilbert was enough for her.

Anne did the closet thing to leaping she was capable of to get out of bed, already having laid out her clothes the night before.

She relished the feeling of simply being able to sit at her mirror and pull her auburn locks into twin braids. She let her gaze fall onto a mass of purple lilacs, almost hiding beneath the plethora of cards and flowers on her desk, and her breath caught. She loved lilacs, more than anything. But she didn’t recall being brought them. What she did know however, is that purple lilacs symbolize ‘first love.’ She shook the ridiculous thought from her mind. Lilacs are a beautiful flower and whoever brought them was just being kind, she reminded herself. The meaning of flowers is not common knowledge.

“Marilla?” Anne sang as she precariously made her way down the steps.

Marillas face went deathly pale upon seeing Anne. “For heavens sake child!” She cried. “What are you doing? I told you to wait for Matthew to come and help you down the stairs!”

Anne scowled as Marilla placed a frantic arm around her back and assisted her down the staircase. “I’m not completely incapable, Marilla.” She muttered.

“Yes, but you have a broken ankle.” Marilla pursed her lips and pulled a chair out for Anne. “I’m still convinced that you should just do work from home for the remainder of the year.”

“And let Gil- everyone else get ahead of me?!”

“I thought you and Gilbert were friends now?”

Anne shrugged and sunk down further into her seat, grumbling a response. “I suppose we’re friendly. But that does not dissuade me from beating him... fair and square of course.”

The two sat in silence, two soon becoming three upon being joined by Matthew.

Anne was the one to finally break the quiet. She had come to absolutely despise the lack of noise after being stuck in her bed for 3 weeks. “Who left the lilacs?” She questioned. “I’m sure they weren’t there yesterday. But I’ve been brought so many flowers, I could’ve missed them.” She looked up at Marilla expectantly.

“Gilbert brought those by yesterday morning.” She replied, as if she hadn’t just delivered the most ground breaking news ever. “You were asleep, so I brought them up to your room.”

At this, Anne almost choked on her toast. “Gil-Gilbert?!” She cried. “Gilbert Blythe brought me purple lilacs?”

Marilla raised her eyebrows. “Yes, I don’t see what’s gotten you so worked up. All of your other friends brought you flowers.”

Anne’s eyes were still wider than the plate clutched in her whitening hands. Her face resembled a sheet of paper and her mouth hung open, as if she expected the words to just fall off of her tongue. “Gilbert,” she finally squeaked. “Gilbert Blythe brought me purple lilacs.”

“For goodness sake child,” Marilla sighed. “Do calm yourself. Hurry and finish your breakfast so Matthew can drive you to school. I won’t have you walking all that way in such a state.”

Anne however, did not finish her breakfast. Nor did she utter a word until she arrived in her English classroom.

“Diana, I think I am going to quite literally die on the spot,” Anne groaned, dropping her head into her arms.

“Why is that?”

“Gilbert Blythe brought me purple lilacs!” Anne spat, her tone making it seem like Diana should know the importance of purple lilacs.

“And...”

“And do you know what purple lilacs symbolize?”

“No.” Diana paused, expecting Anne to explain why she was so devastated over some flowers. Gaining no response, she encouraged the disheartened redhead. “Care to tell me?”

This earned her a terribly theatric sigh. “I couldn’t bear the humiliation. Google it.”

One google search and a whole lot of squealing-on Diana’s part-later, Gilbert Blythe walked into the classroom, seemingly oblivious to Diana’s smirking.

“Morning Gilbert!” Diana chirped. She gave an all too obvious point to a pouting Anne and grinned at Gilbert’s flushed cheeks.

“I-um, morning Diana, Anne.”

If it were even possible, Anne’s head seemed to sink farther into her folded arms, until all that was visible was less than an inch of her scarlet hair.

Diana waited impatiently for Gilbert to take his seat, before turning and whispering to Anne, “Anne, please say you’ll admit your feelings now.”

A muffled “no” escaped Anne’s tiny hideout.

Diana opened her mouth to give well-meaning, but harsh and probably embarrassing advice, but Ms. Stacy spoke first.

“Because of the many up-coming exams, we’re going to take a bit of a break today.” She paused and waited for the cheering to end. “But don’t think that means we won’t be hitting the books tomorrow. I just mean to let you all have a breather.” She clapped her hands together excitedly and pulled a stack of paper and a large jar of flowers from her desk.

Anne, who had lifted her head just enough to see her teacher’s face, went white. She didn’t even dare look over at Gilbert, but Diana’s stifled snickering told her that he was probably just as pale as herself.

“Diana.” Anne hissed once Ms. Stacy had finished a explaining the activity. “I don’t know how, but you did this.”

Diana simply smiled innocently and prompted Anne to read her poem.

“Of course.”

She’d been given a poem that was simply titled “Love”, and below it, written in Ms. Stacy’s neat and concise script: ‘First love’

Diana glanced over at her friend, and was surprised to see that she’d grown even paler. “What’s wrong? What’s your flower meaning? It should be at the bottom of the-“ She cut herself off with a sharp breath. “Oh. Oh! Anne this is so romantic!”

Anne shook her head vigorously. “It is not!” She protested. “And besides, he probably just has a daisy or something stupid like that.”

“So you admit that you considered the possibility that Gilbert might be standing on the other side of the room holding, once again, a purple lilac.”

“I did not consider it, not even once,” Anne huffed. She twirled a delicate daffodil between her thumb and forefinger and hummed lightly. “Now to find someone with a poem about ‘regard and unequalled love.’ Just peachy.”

“Of course you already know what a daffodil means.” Diana rolled her eyes and skipped away, leaving Anne to avoid Gilbert all alone.

Anne shuffled along the edges of the cramped classroom, doing the closest thing she could to turning on her injured heel anytime a certain boy made to approach her. She ignored the pounding in her heart upon seeing him clutching a thin branch sprouting dozens of delicate, lavender-hued blooms. She pushed away the tiny voice in the back of her head that told her that even if he didn’t know yesterday, he certainly knew now, what a stupid purple lilac meant. And most of all, she refused to meet his adoring, slightly pained gaze.

“Anne-“

“Uh-I think Diana needs me.” Anne limped away at an alarmingly fast speed, her heart begging to simply fly from her tightening chest.

“Anne, Diana’s in the bathroom.”

Anne winced and cursed under her breath, before clumsily turning around. “Fine, what is it?”

Gilbert looked almost hurt, but he seemed to shake off the feeling quick enough. “I just wanted to see your poem, I haven’t found one that matches my...” he pointed at the flowers in his hand and Anne nodded curtly.

“Ok.” She all but shoved the scrap of paper into his face, before dipping her head down, her eyes boring into the cheap carpet.

It seemed like several, agony-filled hours before Gilbert cleared his throat hesitantly. Anne’s gaze stayed fixated on her shabby boots, a lump rising in her throat.

“I-uh... here.”

Anne looked up to see him holding out the flowers, his hand just barely clinging onto them.

She stayed frozen, her eyes flashing up and down from the flowers to his eyes that made her stomach flip. His expression was so very hopeful and pained, it seemed that he was reaching for something he knew he’d never find. But there was something else, something else that had been there for years but Anne had been too stubborn to see it.

Just as suddenly as her thoughts had drifted off, they came back to reality. Anne jerked her head to the side momentarily, before adjusting her crutches in a futile attempt to take the flowers from Gilbert’s hands.

Realizing her struggle, Gilbert set the blooms on her desk. “Can i see your, um, your flower?”

Anne was seconds away from unknowingly crushing the yellow petals when he said this. “I, I doubt that-“

“Can I just-“

“Fine, just, take it.” Anne thrust her hand out towards Gilbert, her breath hitching in panic upon seeing the worry flit over his hazel eyes.

“Anne, you, you’ve been digging your nails into your palm,” he breathed.

Anne tore her hand from his tender grasp, hardly even realizing that he was twirling the daffodil between his calloused fingers.

“Just a bad habit,” she muttered, still determined not to meet his gaze.

“Right, well-“

“Anne, Gilbert, please sit down, everyone’s found their flowers already.”

Anne and Gilbert’s heads shot up in unison, their eyes guiltily meeting those of a thoroughly amused Ms.Stacy.

“I do believe we have enough time to recite our poems then,” she declared.

Oh no. Oh this was the worst of it all. This, this was an utter catastrophe. Anne settled into her seat, her pale cheeks burning very uncooperatively. And why, oh why on Earth was Gilbert staring at her as he spoke? Why was his gaze so unbelievably affectionate?

As he spoke, so much more eloquently than he ever had, Anne came to the same realization she had a week ago. The same realization that had caused her to call Diana sobbing and continue to do so for what felt like hours. A realization that was so powerful, so so painfully obvious, that it scared her.

It scared her 13 year old self, who was cold to one of the few people who didn’t judge her harshly, simply because she was desperate for friends.

It scared her 15 year old self, who’d warily accepted a true, real friendship, despite the voice in her head and the fluttering in her stomach.

It terrified her, because she didn’t know what to do with it. For her entire life, she’d convinced herself that she wasn’t worthy of love, especially not that kind. It had been difficult to accept that even Diana loved her, but this was something entirely new. This was like a thrashing, rolling wave, that had been chasing after her for years and had finally toppled downwards and stolen her from what she’d come to know and accept.

So, Anne did what Anne always did when she was scared. She ran. Well, metaphorically, considering her ankle. And no, she didn’t just leave the classroom, she was smart enough not to risk Marilla’s wrath. More, she waited for the moment when Ms. Stacy released her five minutes early and was out the door as fast as possible.

She managed to scrape through the day without a conversation with Gilbert, however arduous and shockingly painful it was.

And of course, right before she could step inside her house and let out a huge sigh of relief, she heard those dreaded footsteps behind her. She really hated that she knew it was him before even turning around.

“Gilbert, I’m not in the mood,” she snapped, her back still facing him. She could hear Gilbert take a shaky breath and for a moment, she almost felt bad.

“I-I know,” he said. “I just didn’t want to... not explain myself.”

“What explaining do you have to do?” Anne was facing him now, hoping he couldn’t see the panic behind her raging eyes.

“I, um, the flowers.”

“Flowers. Right.” She nodded curtly. “It was nice of you, I should’ve thanked you at school. Is that all?”

Gilbert furrowed his eyebrows and gaped at her slightly. “I- no, no it’s not all, Anne what did I do?” The last part was choked and soft, and Anne almost felt bad.

She caved.

“You didn’t do anything, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not, I shouldn’t have been so rude- can we sit?”

He nodded and helped her up the wooden porch steps. They settled onto the cramped bench, knees and elbows brushing inconveniently.

“Are you alright?”

She hated how sincere, how worried he sounded. And she hated that this wasn’t new, that this was always how he spoke to her. Sincere, genuine, caring. Why was this so difficult?

Anne shut her eyes momentarily, gathering her thoughts and her courage, before speaking.

“In books, characters always know,” she paused, swallowing the lump in her throat. “They don’t have to battle the voices in their head or the anxiety in their stomach. They always know what to say, and how, when to say it.”

“Books aren’t real life.”

“I know that, I do, but I wish that it was easier to say this.”

“Easier to say...what?” His tone told her that he already knew, he just wanted to hear it.

She wiped at the tears pricking the corners of her stormy eyes. “Easier to say everything, really. In books, in my imagination as well, everyone knows their heart and is able to bear it with seemingly no trouble.”

“Anne...”

“Please, let me finish.”

He nodded and went quiet.

“They don’t have to... they don’t have to worry that the other person will be...disgusted. But, but I’m not-“ she cut herself off, her words caught in her throat. “I’m not a book character, and this isn’t easy. I’m just... I’m just Anne. I’m not pretty, or well dressed, or interesting. The only thing I have is my smarts and my imagination, and I cling to that. I suppose it’s difficult to accept the possibility of there being more for me. Things I always told myself, and was always told I’d never have.” Her last few words were almost lost to the wind, just barely tumbling out before she collapsed into a heap of sobs.

Gilbert pulled her towards him, letting her bury her head in his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her, grounding her.

When she pulled away, breath evened and face red and splotchy, he took a chance.

He reached out and brushed his hand against her cheek gently, as if afraid it would shatter beneath his touch. “Anne,” he whispered. “You are the most beautiful-“

She scoffed.

“Really,” Gilbert continued. “You are so incredibly stunning, but that’s only one of the many reasons I’m so drawn to you. You’re so smart and creative, and incredibly compassionate. You always stand up for what you believe in and never back down, which is very admirable of you.”

Their faces were mere inches apart now, but there was still a wall between them. No longer the brick wall it was many years ago, or bulletproof glass from a month ago. It was a sheet of stained glass, so broken, so fragmented, that it would shatter with one small nudge.

“Anne, I love you, because you are you, and I would not have you any other way.”

That was the nudge. Anne’s walls fell down and revealed a vulnerability she didn’t even know she had. “You-you love me?”

“Of course, how could I not?”

Her bottom lip quivered slightly. “I- I never dreamed that someone would, could love me in that way.” She gazed up into his hazel eyes, trying desperately to capture every emotion, every meaning behind them.

The wall was gone, for the first time ever, there was nothing stopping them.

As equals, they moved to close the gap between them. There was a split-second of fear, but that melted away like sunlight dripping onto flower petals doused in morning dew. It seemed cheesy to say, but it was as if this was destiny, as if some part of something had been predetermined, and this was meant to be.

Anne had always dreamt of first kisses. She never thought hers would happen with her eyes still stinging from tears, her ankle broken, sitting on the Green Gables porch, and with Gilbert Blythe. But you could ask her many years from now, and she would attest to the fact that she wouldn’t have it any other way.

[royalcordelia]

The Secret of Distance (3/?)

Summary: Anne and Gilbert embark on their journeys, but stay close to each other at heart. Courting across 1000 miles isn’t easy, but they’re more than willing to step up to the task. (A post s3 story)

Notes: Some people wanted to be tagged with the update, so I’m tagging y’all down at the bottom. You guys have all my love! ♥

~~*~~

Sebastian had known from Gilbert’s first mentionings of college that he was going to miss the skinny boy he called brother, but it had always seemed so far away. Now Gilbert’s room had been empty for an entire week. Leaning against the doorframe peering into the room, Bash noticed noticed how Gil’s bed-frame and desk were already beginning to collect dust. Delly sat on his hip, sucking her thumb in comfort, her hair growing out so much like her mother’s that Bash’s heart clenched to touch it.

Bash hated change, as most people do when they have to leave behind the things they love most. But standing in Gilbert’s room, Bash couldn’t help but feel homesick for a time when Mary was alive, Delly was strapped to her back, Gilbert was only a few acres away at school, due to return home in the golden hour. Where had his family gone?  

So many miles lost in his own thoughts, he didn’t hear the front door squeak open.

“Sebastian, you’ve got letters from Gilbert!” Hazel’s voice echoed from downstairs.

Bash jolted, wrapping another arm around Delly as he hurried down the stairs and slid through the hallway toward the kitchen. Hazel was ready to receive the baby, handing him two cream letters once his hands were free with a smirk and a shake of her head. Her eyes stuck on Bash as he greedily read Gilbert’s scratch on the back of the envelope. 

“Bash - open this one first.”

“Well, what it say?” Hazel asked impatiently. 

“Give me a chance to read it and I’ll tell you!” Bash retorted. As his eyes skimmed over the slanted words, he relayed bits and pieces to his mother. “It says he’s settled into his new house, living with some fella Ron. Nervous about school and…”  Bash’s jaw dropped. 

“And?” 

“And he’s courting Anne,” Bash continued, a grin sneaking into his voice. “He stopped to see her before she left.” 

Hazel spun around from the stove, startled enough to let her ladle drip onto the floor. She considered the news, before a steady look of satisfaction graced her features.

“Finally that boy got his head on straight. I thought he’d always drag it around with him on a leash with the way things were going.” 

“You’re telling me,” Bash mumbled, continuing to read. “PS: Please take the other letter to the Cuthberts. I wanted to tell them in person, but with the timing, I wasn’t able to. Would you be my ambassador?” 

 He flipped the second envelope in his fingers and noticed the difference in address.

Matthew and Marilla Cuthbert Attn: Sebastian Lecroix

“I’ve got to run to Green Gables. I’ll be back in time to help set the table for dinner,” Bash told his mother. He was halfway out the door when he froze and turned around. “Actually, do you mind if we have guests over for dinner? I want to celebrate.” 

*

He must have caught a glimpse of her through the thin autumn curtains, because the very second Anne lifted her hand to manse’s knocker, the entryway door swung open. Anne jumped back an inch, expecting to find the friendly, yet solemn face of Rollings, but instead found Cole. He wore a chestnut colored suit, but his sunny hair matched the elated smile on his cheeks, making his spirit recognizable even dressed in his resplendent clothes. Any of the neighbors peeking out their window would’ve seen the young man sweep Anne into his arms and lift her up off of her feet. 

“There’s my queen of Queens!” he said, voice straining through his laughter he held her up. Slipping out of his arms, Anne’s toes found the ground as she straightened this collar.

“I meant to come sooner, but I’ve been in so many meetings with professors and attending so many of the Freshman welcome events that I’ve barely had any time to myself. But I’m not just here to catch up. I’m here on business, as well,” Anne explained. She pulled a drawstring satchel from her purse and held it out before him. “Tell me, are these sufficient funds for a portrait commission?” 

Cole didn’t look inside the bag yet, fixing her with an expression of amusement and confusion. “A portrait of you?” 

“Yes,” Anne stated matter-of-factly, though she failed at hiding her budding excitement. 

“Anne, I have plenty of portraits of you in my portfolio. Why don’t you just take one of those?” 

Her new curls bounced as she shook her head. 

“I mean a real portrait. It’s going to be a gift, and since a photograph is beyond my allowance, I thought I’d offer you all that I could for the next best thing. Besides, a hand drawn portrait by you is better than any photograph I’ve ever seen. I merely stopped by to give my offer and payment, and see what time would be agreeable for you.” 

Cole considered this, vaguely wondering if the smell of violets was coming from the flowerbed or from Anne’s perfume. 

“I don’t like accepting your money. I know how hard you work to earn it,” he said honestly. Anne reached forward, moving his hands to cover the sack of coins, then pushed it toward him. 

“It’s payment for a service you’d be doing me. You’re a professional artist now, Cole. You deserve to be compensated as such, especially by friends,” she insisted. “Besides, I want you to accept the money now so  I can finally tell you what it’s for.” 

Biting his lip, Cole finally nodded. He grabbed her hand and tugged her into the house, sitting her down in the parlor. He was darting up the stairs to grab his supplies when he skidded to a stop. From the hallway, Anne heard Cole’s voice echo, “You’ve got time right now, don’t you?” 

“Yep! I have all afternoon free!” 

He reappeared moments later, large pads of paper in one hand and a leather case in the other. It was only when he began to situate himself directly before her that Anne realized he’d strategically placed her in a beam of bright sunlight. In the corner of her eyes, her hair looked like gilded thread, shining gold and warm. When she turned her gaze back to the artist, she found he had laid out his sketching pencils beside him, as well as the opened his wide assortment of paint pigments within reach. 

“Jo is out for the afternoon, but if you can, you must stay for dinner. If she discovers you were here without seeing her, she’ll never let you hear the end of it,” Cole explained, flipping open to a fresh new piece of paper. Then, with a keen energy of excitement and a pretense of professionalism, he straightened his shoulders. “Now, what did you have in mind for this portrait, Miss Shirley-Cuthbert?” 

Anne opened her mouth to answer, but pressed her lips together with a knowing smile. 

“Well,” she drawled finally, “As I mentioned, I’ll be giving this as a gift. I’d like to send it already framed to my new suitor. He requested something for his bedside table.” 

Cole slammed his pencil on his lap, nearly breaking the tip. The expression of delighted shock on his face nearly had Anne roaring with laughter, but she knew she had not yet delivered the best part. 

“Anne Shirley Cuthbert. You attend college for all of one week and you’ve already got a suitor! Finally, the young gentlemen of Prince Edward Island are realizing what a gem exists amongst their midst!” Cole praised. Then, his face became more masked, but his voice dropped to the floor, low with hesitance. “Does this mean that you...no longer care for Gilbert?” 

For a split second, Anne remembered the last thing she’d told Cole about Gilbert - about how she expected him to marry, and how she’d forever love him across an ocean of distance. She could remember with visceral perfectness the way she’d ached to let him go. Thus, it was with resounding joy that Anne allowed a cheek splitting grin to overcome her face as she spoke. 

“It’s for Gilbert.” 

Cole blinked. “It’s for Gilbert,” he repeated blankly. Then, nearly knocking over his things, he cried, “It’s for Gibert!?” 

This time, Anne did laugh, covering her blush with her hands. 

“Oh, Cole, I could burst just thinking about it! It’s a story right out of a fairy tale book.”  

The feather-haired blonde pointed the sharp edge of his pencil at Anne. 

“I told you so! Years ago!” he bragged. Anne nodded through her laughter, struggling to maintain a poised portrait pose. “Alright, I want to hear everything. Sit just like that. You talk, I’ll draw.”

*

Bash had no idea what the letters. All he knew was that the one in Marilla’s hand was the one he hand delivered from Gilbert, likely making her aware of his intentions, and the other one was from Anne, likely of a similar content. The Cuthberts read their respective letters with such severity that Bash feared for a moment Marilla would crumple up the correspondence and toss it in the oven. He fidgeted in his seat, scolding himself when he thought to himself, Wonder if I’ll read so slow when I get that old. 

Matthew was the first to finish, placing down the letter with tender fingers in front of Marilla. The woman in question hurried over the last lines of hers, then scanned over the entire paper once more, before handing it to Matthew. Bash bit back a groan. Couldn’t they just get to the celebrating? 

His patience broke sooner than he thought it would, and he leaned across the table as if to ask for a secret. 

“What’s it say, Marilla?” 

Marilla peered at Bash over the rim of her glasses and forced her smile from growing too noticeable. Beside her, Matthew blushed as he set down Gilbert’s letter and fisted his hands on the table to give his shaking fingers something to do. Taking a short inhale, Marilla began to read. 

Dearest Matthew and Marilla,

The view from my window reminds me ever so much of my own gable room. I find small hints of Avonlea everywhere I go - from the people I share my house with, to the billowing wildflowers in my neighbor’s gardens. Charlottetown people aren’t as rude as I had once surmised, and I expect that I will find a bouquet of kindred spirits as queens. You remain my most beloved kindred spirits, always. 

I’m afraid I’m short on time this afternoon - the Freshettes have an orientation to attend within the hour.  A lengthier letter will follow this one once I have settled into my classes, fully denoting every delicious thing happening here. The purpose of this quick note, then, is to give you a delighted warning at something that I suspect will be arriving at Green Gables within the next few days. 

That is to say, if Gilbert Blythe writes to you both speaking of intentions and courting, please don’t be alarmed. I have given him my own ecstatic, wholehearted consent, but it would be so very like Gilbert to want to honor you both as well. I don’t know for sure, as he and I didn’t have very much time to detangle all of our many misunderstandings last we saw each other, but if on the off chance he chooses not to write, let me be the first to tell you: Gilbert and I are going to start courting. Oh, the last time something felt so beautifully perfect was when I came to live at Green Gables and when Mrs. Barry said Diana and I could be friends after all! Truly, my feet haven’t touched the ground! 

I hope all is well for you both. I miss you abundantly. Charlottetown will never truly be home, not when there’s a Green Gables and a White Way of Delight beckoning me. I give you both

All my love, 

Anne

(PS: Please tell the Lacroix’s I miss them. Bash looked so forlorn the last I saw him.) 

As silence fell back over the room, Bash remembered the last time he’d seen Anne. She’d been peering up with such a hopeful smile and a handful of Avonlea blossoms, but he hadn’t really thought much of it until after peace had settled over his household. By then, Gilbert was gone, and it occurred to him he never got a proper goodbye with Avonlea’s Anne with an E. 

“Well, she was right about him sending a letter,” Matthew concluded in a strange voice.

“I hope that boy gave you a good explanation for all his foolishness these last months,” Bash said finally.

“I do believe he has made a more than adequate case for himself, though you’re welcome to have a look for yourself,” Marilla replied. Bash lifted his brows as if to ask Are you sure? Marilla gave a stiff nod, but smiled, sliding Gilbert’s letter across the table for him to read. 

Dear Mr. and Miss Cuthbert, 

I’m sure that I am the last person you expected a letter from, especially after all the gossip about me that has made its rounds through Avonlea. However, the matter I wish to write to you about is of such importance that it could not wait until my next visit home. It’s times like these I wish I had Anne’s elegant command of language. Instead, all I can do is tell you that I adore your daughter and humbly request your blessing to begin courting her. 

Your immediate feelings must be some variation of confusion because of the public knowledge that I intended to marry a young woman in Charlottetown. The sole reason I had been contemplating this decision was because Miss Rose’s presence in my life would have granted me the opportunity to fulfill an academic dream of mine. It all seemed so providential that I assumed Miss Rose’s presence in my life was supposed to be providential as well.  This assumption was not only incorrect, but it also led to the pain of many people I care about. 

Still, I have been so relieved every day that I read my Book of Revelations when I did. All my confusion has been cleared away, it is so apparent to me that I was a complete fool to pretend I could ever move on from how much I care about Anne. I’ve decided I don’t want my life to be successful because of the people around me. I want those people to be part of my success and the blessings of life - blessings that I intend to earn all on my own merit. 

I tell you all these things so that you don’t assume Anne is my second choice. I hope you understand me when I tell you that Anne has always been and always will be my first, and only, choice. From the day I met her, I admired her intelligence, her passion, and the loveliness of her spirit. My dream isn’t just to be become a successful doctor - what good is that if can’t honor the people I love most? And I truly do love Anne, as well as your family. That is why I ended my courtship with Winifred. It would be unfair to lead on her heart when mine was so undeniably and permanently tied to someone else. 

It’s unlike me to lay my heart on my sleeve, but it’s because I believe this matter is important that I do. I anxiously await your response (In full disclosure, I am fully prepared to travel sixteen hours home to convince you in person if this letter isn’t enough.) 

It’s my genuine hope that you all are faring well. Enjoy the warm harvest weather! 

With Sincerity, 

Gilbert Blythe

When he was done, Bash folded the letter back up and pushed it to the middle of the table. His chest swelled with pride for his brother, who had finally grown into the man he’d been rushing to be all these months. Now, the lad had done it on his own volition and on his own merit. 

“Well, what’s it to be?” Bash asked carefully. Matthew and Marilla exchanged a look that only a pair of siblings would be able to decipher before the older woman took up her own pencil and a sheet of paper. For a moment, Bash worried that she would say, “ Sorry Bash, but he isn’t good enough for our Anne.” But then she sent a smile of genuine satisfaction across the table and he heaved a sigh of relief. 

“If you give me just a moment, I’d like to write to Gilbert to tell him that he’s had our blessing long before Anne burst into our kitchen to say she was in love with him. Would you mail it for us once I’m finished?” 

“I’d be delighted to,” Bash replied warmly. He paused before adding, “Everyone knew except him, didn’t they?” 

“Seems so,” Matthew said bashfully. “She said it so loud, even the horses knew.” 

*

The perk of living with a philosophy major was that the house was almost always quiet. Silence suited the Sunset House - they’d begun to call it that without realizing it - and Gilbert couldn’t help but sometimes feel like he was sitting at his own desk back home. When he listened to the birdsong just outside his window or looked up at the printed skeleton models hanging above his desk, he could almost forget he was a thousand miles away from home. He shared the apartment’s study with Ron, but the man worked so soundlessly that the only sound Gilbert could ever make out was the gears turning in the man’s head.

School, as it turned out, was more tiring and more fulfilling than he could have prepared himself for. Two weeks into his classes, he’d collected an odd array of friends - mostly people Ron knew, which explained their peculiar nature. Yet, none of them were, as Anne would say, kindred spirits. Ron was either growing on him or he was merely becoming more accustomed to his nosy roommate’s antics. 

But when the day was over and Gilbert needed to share the intimacies of his heart with someone who belonged in his life, he’d add another page to his weekly letter to Anne and tell her everything that was on his mind. It paled in comparison to having her in person. 

On days like these when he was exhausted and homesick, he imagined what it would be like to rest his head on Anne’s chest while she held him and stroked his hair. Knowing she’d probably let him only made being away from PEI worse, but the quiet daydreams had a way of keeping him grounded. 

He was gazing out his window, picturing Anne dancing in ambered firelight, when Ron called up the stairs, “Gil? You’ve got mail.”

The legs of his chair screeched against the old wood floors and Gilbert pushed himself away from his desk and raced down the stairs. He found Ron shuffling through the various letters, peering with interest at a paper-wrapped parcel tied to one of the letters. 

“Let’s see. One from Sebastian Lacroix, one from the Cuthberts, and…” Ron wiggled his eyebrows and waved the package. “One from the ever-lovely, ever-red headed Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. My, you are popular!” 

“Give me those,” Gilbert chided, snatching away his mail and pulling it to his chest. For a second, he contemplated running back upstairs and locking his door behind him where Ron wouldn’t be able to follow, but the man would probably just pester him wherever he tried to hide. Shooting Ron a warning look, he sat down on the parlor couch and heaved a deep sigh. Where should he start? 

“The one from her parents is probably the most pressing,” he said aloud.

His fingers hovered over the flap of the envelope, trembling with hesitation. What if they said no? If he had a daughter and some schmuck like him came calling after her, he’d send the poor lad running. 

“Jesus Christ, Gilbert, just open the damn thing,” Ron cried, snapping Gilbert out of his thoughts. Tearing open the flap, Gilbert gently pulled the letter from inside. 

Dear Gilbert, 

Matthew and I have been anticipating this development for quite some time. Rest assured that you have proven yourself to be a most admirable young man. We all must learn the hard lessons of life at some time or another. I imagine you will discover more about the matters of the heart as you grow older - Matthew and I are still learning with Anne in our family - but it’s the best type of learning a person can undergo. Thank you for your transparency and your honesty. Anne has expressed to us that she has already given you her consent, and therefore, you have our blessing to court her. Though it does sadden us a little bit to see our young girl mature into a woman, we could not keep her from the desires of her heart. I hope you know we could not have asked for a better young man for Anne. Both Matthew and I wish you all the best in your studies. You make Avonlea proud.

Sincerely, 

Marilla Cuthbert

Gilbert’s relief must have been tangible because Ron whistled as he blew a cooling breath over his coffee. 

“Did you expect them to send you to the witch’s stake or something?” Ron asked. 

“For everything I’ve put Anne through? Yes. Absolutely,” Gilbert said, stunned. 

Unable to wait any longer, Gilbert took Anne’s parcel in his hands and smiled at the familiarity of her handwriting. There were two letters attached, one with a note on the envelope that said, “I wrote this before I received your letter. Open the present last.”  He was unsure whether that boded well for the contents inside, but decided to take the risk and finally read the letter he’d been waiting for all week. As his eyes skimmed the text, he fell back onto the couch and held the letter above his head. 

“What’s it say?” Ron queried.

“ Shhh !” Gilbert shot, pulling the letter closer to his face. He read and read and read. When he was finished with the first letter, he found he had a lovesick grin plastered across his face and a glimmering light in his eyes. With a voice as gentle as wind, Gilbert breathed, “She says she loves me.”

“I thought you knew that already,” Ron replied. 

“Not for sure. When I asked her if she did, she kissed me. I was fairly convinced then, but to have the words written out is much more certain,” Gilbert explained, already opening the second letter. He could barely bring himself to care that he sounded like an absolute romantic fool in front of his roommate. Anne loved him! 

My dearest Gil, 

It’s finally autumn! She’s officially arrived with her cold air and hints of dusky colors on the leaves. It makes me wonder if all those miles away, you’re seeing any hints of autumn as well. I was so pleased to hear that you’re doing well and settling in to your new home. I can just picture your apartment on North Sunset street! Tell me, is your home made of bricks the same color as the PEI roads? Does your window overlook anything spectacular? In truth, my window has a lovely view over Charlottetown, but I find myself preferring to reread your letter than look out over the city. 

Do you truly love me, Gilbert? Oh, I know you do, but I think I’d like to see you say it over and over and over - that is, if it isn’t too much trouble. It’s just so breathtakingly wonderful to see it written in your handwriting. You have my full permission to be bold and assume that I love you to equal measure. So much so, that I’m tempted to write you of little else. Perhaps one day I shall tell you how I adore you, in every way my imagination can conjure. For now, I will answer your questions. 

You asked me when I began to have feelings for you. In truth, I pondered this myself because once I realized what the feelings were, I couldn’t remember a time when they weren’t there. I trace them farther and farther back, and there I am, looking upon a very dashing young man asking me if there are any dragons in need of slaying. It seemed at times, I wasn’t only jealous and spiteful of your kindness and intelligence, but I seemed to desire it too.  Perhaps that accounts for my lengthy bout of confusion. Once we became friends, every day I grew closer to realizing that my admiration was equal parts attraction. 

As for when I realized that I cared for you. It was after dance practice that I realized I wanted to be the object of your warm gazes and soft touches for the rest of eternity. But it was after that night at the ruins that I realized I loved you. I didn’t want to be the one thing holding you back. Love was what prepared me to let you go, and be grateful that you’d be happy, even if it meant without me. I am a thousand times more grateful that we intend to be happy together, not apart.

As for the letter you wrote me, I am utterly ashamed to admit that I tore it to pieces before reading it. I hadn’t really allowed myself to be angry and hurt until that moment, but as soon as my anger expressed itself, it was gone. I tried to piece together the torn fragments, but came up with a message in which you said you didn’t love me and intended to marry Winifred. I couldn’t bring myself to throw them away though. They’re in an envelope in my bureau at Green Gables. Do you think you could piece them together for me during Christmas break? 

Phew! With all that out in the open, I can tell you that I am doing wonderfully here at Queens! I do occasionally get homesick, especially for you, but I do love my curriculum and the people in my classes. In my free time, when I’m not writing you or my family, I plan to write some short stories for publication. Hopefully, I can earn enough to come visit you soon. Would Ron mind? 

My hand is cramping, so I will conclude here for tonight. Think of me in the golden hours of the morning and afternoon, and I won’t be terribly far away at all. 

Unabashedly yours, 

Anne 

(PS: I tried out that new nickname. How did you like it?) 

(PPS: I’ve included something for you, per your request. Is it vain to say that Cole did a magnificent job?) 

Gilbert did not waste time, pulling parcel from his lap and tearing off the brown paper. Immediately the breath was knocked from his chest as he gazed upon a small painted portrait of Anne, signed at the bottom by Cole Mackenzie. She was depicted with her face angled toward the sun, with a rose blush on her cheeks and cherry color to her lips. Cole had paid amazing detail to her freckles, capturing them in each perfect location. She’d worn her hair and dress exactly as she had the last time he’d seen her, freezing that moment in the timeless artistic existence. Her smile was as he remembered it, so realistic that he could vividly hear her laughter as if she were in the room. 

He must’ve been staring at the portrait for so long that Ron rose from his chair and peered over Gilbert’s shoulder. 

“You weren’t kidding about the red hair,” he commented. Gilbert glanced up, before returning his gaze to the picture. “Not too far off from the color of carrots.”

Gilbert snorted, an affectionate smile turning his face to sunlight. “Don’t let her hear you say that.”

~~*~~

Tag list! (if you want to be added or taken off, let me know). @pterparkcr @be-feminine-be-unique @firehaireddeamer @annabel-lee23 @beinmyheart @forcordelia @ladyofhousewaters @brookie-cookie3 @peculiarly-deactivated @mrs-shirley-cuthbert-blythe @lexfangirls @amoraeternusforyou @pastaismysignificantother @spellsandbells @instantknightartisanwagon @noctislightning @lonelyscreaming @lbhmoon @findurhappy @mynameisbluenotjane

[hs-devote]

11. M A N C H E S T E R

Moodboard // Content // Masterlist

Disclaimer:

All characters and situation in this story are fictitious. Resemblance to any person living or dead is only God knows.

Previous chapter: She bit her lip before her finger pulled his cross necklace – made him pulled towards her. Their lips were an only mere inch apart. Knowing his eyes were fixated on her, Y/N chose to play with his cross pendant. She whimpered when he kissed her again, teasing her soft lips with his tip tongue before barged into her mouth. She was hesitant in the beginning yet she kissed him back, tried to make herself comfortable with Marcel. After all, he was part of Harry. They couldn’t be separated. They couldn’t yet be separated.

11. MANCHESTER Not many people occupied seats in first-class, only them and one small family at the end of the car. The train would leave to Manchester in fifteen minutes, yet it seemed like the other passengers have got inside, packed the standard one.

Harry and Y/N were heading to his hometown to celebrate his birthday tomorrow. She was so excited to come to Manchester since this was her first time to be there. Besides, this short getaway would help refresh her mind from work life. Y/N heard from Anne that she invited a few relatives to have lunch together at The Styles’ home. She was ecstatic because her son finally would spend his birthday with family after years of always celebrating with friends or former lovers.

“It’s still two hours and a half until we get to Manchester, so you can catch your sleep time. I’m sorry I chose the earliest departure.” Harry said after the train began to move, leaving the Euston Station behind. Y/N took a glance to her watch, showing a little after seven.

“No, it’s fine.” She shrugged, “Tell me, what do you expect for your birthday party? Your mum will throw a birthday bash since it’s like the first time you celebrate your birthday in hometown.”

“Did she tell you that?” he snickered, “Let me tell you something; The Styles family is like any other families. They love to tease, so don’t be surprised.” He added, “But, I prefer fewer people... to be honest.”

Y/N frowned a bit, “Why? They didn’t bully you, did them?”

“No! It’s nothing like that. I do love the Styles, but their love towards me and my mum sometimes overwhelmed me. I’m not used to it. Only Clementia and my step-dad made me get used to it.”

Her smile faltered, didn’t expect Harry would say that. She understood, even though Harry had been a part of the Styles family for years, he still had an insecure side of himself. He was a grown man, but deep down in his heart, he was still a little boy.

“How about Clementia? Will she come?” she changed the subject, avoiding the sensitive topics. She didn’t want him to have a meltdown right now.

“She didn’t promise me to come. Her uni schedule is packed, so I understand if she can’t make it.”

“I would the same if I was her.” She nodded, “I can’t wait to arrive.”

Y/N didn’t aware she fell asleep most of the journey, Harry woke her up when the train had arrived in Piccadilly. She rubbed her tired eyes before straightened her posture a bit, looking out at the window. Most of the people had left the train with their suitcases, only them were still in the seats. She sighed lazily, too lazy to move from her spot. She was already too comfortable so it made her a little unwilling to get up. Seeing his lover reluctant to move, Harry affectionally kissed her eyes. Urging her to get up before helped her to stand while he got their luggage.

“Is someone picking us up? Or will you drive?” asked Y/N when they were in arrival hall. Lots of people passed by. Her eyes found a group of tourist were looking at maps, or families who were on holiday, a group of friends, even some couples were clinging to each other.

“My mum asked–”

“Harry!”

Y/N snapped her head to the sound called for her boyfriend. From the distance, she saw Lucas was walking to them. His big grin plastered on his face, with blonde curls bouncing from the way he walked, his sunglasses perched on top of his head kept his hair from blocking eyesight.

“My mum asked Lucas to pick us up.” Harry finished his word, smiling apologetically to her.

“Oh, hi love! How are you?” Lucas asked her once he stopped in front of them. He was Harry’s cousin, working for him for the Manchester office if she didn’t wrong – in case you forgot. It had been ages since she saw him the last time. His hair was longer than she remembered, yet he still had this teasing look on his face that she didn’t forget. His blue eyes reminded her of Niall.

Why almost all of Harry’s friend had this mesmerising blue eyes? First Niall, and now Lucas. The man loves blue-eyed mates, does he? – her inner goddess ogled

She smiled, “Lucas, right? I’m fine.”

“Told you! You got this woman right away.” Lucas winked at Harry, made him rolled his eyes. Y/N just shook her head knowing how blatantly Lucas was.

“Missed you to, mate! How are you? How’s the office?” Harry sarcastically asked his cousin. Lucas just snaggered, “It’s not the right time for talking about work, okay? Let me get your luggage and go to your home.”

Lucas asked Y/N’s permission to take her luggage, ignoring Harry who was carrying his. He rolled his eyes watching how sweet his cousin to his girlfriend. His cousin always looked for attention to women, but this was the first time he had been kind to Harry’s girlfriend. Before, Lucas was a little mean to Harry’s ex-girlfriend since they weren’t nice to him. While Harry grumbled over how his cousin took Y/N’s attention away from him, she was allowing Lucas to help with her luggage.

“I’ll lead the way in the front since I know you guys will all lovey-dovey behind me.”

“That’s Lucas if you want to know him well. He’s twenty-four but acts like four.” Harry mumbled, placing his arms behind her back, guide her to follow his cousin. Y/N glanced over the man in front of her. Lucas was tall as Harry, but he was thinner than her boyfriend making him look taller.

“I heard you, cousin.” Lucas shouted from the front.

“Fuck off, cousin. You're supposed to be our butler, so... don't interfere with your master's business.” Harry rolled his eyes. Once they arrived in a parking lot, Lucas helped them to load their luggage into his car trunk. They didn’t bring much stuff since it was only a two days trip.

“How nice,” Harry mumbled after his cousin opened the door for them. Y/N climbed first on the backseat and he followed soon.

“The trip will take around thirty minutes. If you want to stop by anywhere, let me know.” Lucas announced after he took the driver seat, while his hand adjusting the rear-view mirror. “My car doesn't have a partition, so please behave appropriately.”

“What does that mean?” Y/N asked while fastened her safety belt, looking at both the men.

“I'm fine with holding hands and little kisses here and there, but just a little of weird sound you made – I'll strike in place.”

Y/N face heated after realising what he meant. She immediately averted her eyes through the window while holding her temple. Lucas let out an inaudible laugh as he turned on the engine, stirred the wheel and drove away. The road was surprisingly empty considering it was weekend. They hardly found any traffic that afternoon.

“Nice car, mate.” Harry hummed, his eyes looked straight into the open road in front of him. His hands sneakily took Y/N's hand to him, interlocking their fingers together. Even though she had been busy looking at the road, Y/N couldn’t help her smile. Her fingertips caressed his knuckle still with eyes fixated through the window.

“I know, this Jeep Compass really made me drool over her when I was looking at the brochure.” He shrugged while his hand shifting the gear, making the car drove faster the next moment. “So, is this your first time meeting Anne, Y/N? I mean, Harry's mum?”

“I met her once in Harry's house.” Y/N nodded, “So, no. This is my second time meeting in person.”

“Are you nervous?” Lucas asked once again, his eyes sometimes looked at her through the mirror above. He had been watching their gestures but didn't say anything. He saw how Harry showed his affection even though just a little. The man made sure Y/N's hands still on his grasp, like not wanting to let go one bit as if he made sure that she was under his supervision.

“That's a lie if I say no.”

“Good then.” He smiled, “You won't only meet Anne, but you'll meet our entire family.”

“Thank you for making me anxious, Lucas.” She muttered under her breath, “I appreciate that.”

“Just breath. They will love you. Everything's gonna be okay.” Harry chimed in, smiling sweetly to her. He raised his palms to rub her head, rolled his eyes of the way Lucas was winking at him from the mirror. He didn't know what they were planning, he just hoped it wasn't going too much. The car began to leave the city centre and entered a fairly quiet neighbourhood area. Lots of trees along the road made the environment beautiful. There weren't many houses there, yet every building had stone walls and gate surrounded their homes, protecting from the curious eyes.

Lucas stopped his car in front of the wooden gate, not too high but still made the building inside not visible. After punching some codes, the gate automatically opened. One thing that flashed in Y/N's mind after the car entering the driveaway; this house was very pretty. Besides, the house was also far from the city hustle, an ideal location for a home.

“Welcome to Anne's house.” Lucas smiled, “Welcome home, Harry.”

Y/N took her time to admire the house once she climbed out of the car. The country style house was rich with cream coloured walls, with brown decorated here and there. Trees loomed in the front yard. The approach was via gated entrance giving access to the driveway leading to a parking courtyard and integral garage. There were small stone steps that connected the yard to the main entrance. On the left side, there was a footpath leading to the back.

“C'mon, darling.” Harry said behind her, wrapping his arms around her shoulder. “Let's get inside while our butler helps with the luggage.”

He smirked, a mocking smile plastered on his face to his cousin who was standing behind them, ready to open the trunk. Y/N swatted his hand playfully, shaking his head. Lucas grinned, seeing Y/N looked like want to defend him. Yet he snorted at the realisation; she was also teasing him.

“Don't forget to give him some cash. He did a good job of taking care of our luggage.” She giggled. Harry laughed at her joke before escort her to the inside, leaving the blonde man alone. Once they got into the kitchen, their eyes caught Anne who was standing in front of the oven with hands covered with gloves. She hadn’t noticed the arrival of the two of them, still busy preparing the lunch. When Harry faked his cough, Anne just turned around.

“Hi, mum!”

Anne snapped her neck instantly, looking at her son standing in the corner with his girlfriend in his arms. She hastily took off her gloves, sprinting to her son – pulled him in her embrace. Harry's hand let go of Y/N's to hug his mother. Y/N didn’t deny Anne’s eyes was sparkling in happiness like it was the first time to meet them. And she understood since the mother and son rarely met because of their busy schedule.

“You're home!” she laughed, cupping her son's cheeks. “I'm so happy!”

“Mum, I was here at Christmas.” Harry chuckled, “But it's nice to be back.”

“Two months is long if your son isn’t home, darling.” Anne smiled, hands tidied up his hair. A typical mother would do if it was her first time met her child after being separated for years. Harry sheepishly whined because his girlfriend was standing next to him, watching the encounter. It took Anne a few seconds before noticed another figure in his hand. Still with the warm smile, she hugged Y/N tightly. Y/N, of course, happily returned her hug.

“How's your journey, darling?” she inquired, hands gripping Y/N's arms softly. The way Harry’s mother smile with her pearly white teeth made her feel so eagerly awaited. Her maternal aura made Y/N so comfortable to be around although she didn’t deny that sometimes felt intimidated by her boyfriend’s mother. Yes, Anne was very nice but she could feel the older woman was so protective over her only son.

“It was very pleasurable. I was able to sleep on the train so I wasn’t very tired.” She answered, “I love it here already. And your house is so beautiful.”

The twinkle in Anne's eyes got brighter, she smiled showing her perfect teeth while pinching her nose. “That’s good then. And oh, Harry, why don't you take her around the house? I’ll let you know when lunch is ready.”

“Sure. Let's go, baby.”

Anne's house was massive. The house had four floors with lower ground leisure suite including swimming pool and gym. It had six bedrooms and five bathrooms over the upper two floors while the ground floor, which they were standing on right now, focused on family/living rooms and kitchen with the dining room. The backyard was quite wide if they wanted to house a party, she also had a garden path for her plants and a small pond at the end. Y/N just found out that Anne loved farming and was thinking of turning half their backyard into a small farm. While Harry was showing his girlfriend his childhood house, Lucas helped them to put their luggage on the first floor where their room was located. They were using Harry's old bedroom at the far end.

“Why does your mum living alone in a big house like this? She must feel lonely.” Y/N asked when Harry led them to the backyard again. The couple took a seat in the terrace overlooking the open green field.

“I once asked her to move in with me in London but she refused. This house has too memorable to leave.” He answered, “I also think that way. This is where I grew up and became a better person. We couldn't leave the memories with my step-dad. Besides, Clementia would be upset if we leave this house.”

“My aunts and cousins like to come to keep my mum's company. Sometimes they stay a few days because according to them, this is one of their holiday options. They love the environment and greenery.” He added. “Also, my mum has a maid to help her with the house. So, she's not really alone.”

“Must be nice to live in this house,” she murmured, “feels so homey and far from the downtown.”

Harry just silent while sometimes stole a glance at his girlfriend who was staring far ahead. She enjoyed the view although it was just an empty backyard – that would later be full because of his birthday tomorrow. He shook his head while chuckling as if remembering they would celebrate his birthday like when he was little. Well, honestly little Harry never had a birthday party. But, when he became a Styles, Igor threw one for his fourteenth birthday.

“Am I bothering you, guys? The lunch is ready.”

Anne appeared behind them, still wearing her apron. Y/N was the first one who turned her body, walking to her.

“No, no. You're not.” She smiled, “Can I help you something? I feel bad if I can’t help you anything.”

“Don't worry darling. Everything is done. Let's eat. Lucas already took his spot in the dining table.” Anne took Y/N's hand, bring the girl inside. Harry walked behind, followed them to the dining room. From their behind, Harry could see the way his mother and girlfriend getting along. Laughing at something he didn’t understand. He broke a smile, this was a good sign his mother agreed of the woman he brought home. In his previous relationship, Harry only introduced his mother and girlfriend at each other, nothing more. Didn’t take this far step, bringing her home and introduced the woman who stole his heart to his extended family.

He rolled his eyes when found Lucas had eaten before the host – with joking manner of course. Not surprising to see his cousin was comfortable to lurking around his mother’s house like his own house since Harry frequently asked him to visit Anne to check on her.

“Such an impolite to start eating before your master.” Harry scoffed jokingly when his cousin was chewing his food.

“That's because you're not feeding me, my lord.” Lucas shot back, shrugging his shoulders before aimed a spoonful to his mouth. Anne shook her head watching her son and nephew attacking each other, she ignored them and sat on her seat right away.

“My job is not feeding a slave.”

“Harry.” Anne widened her eyes, shaking her head to his son. She did know it was just banter but that was a little rude.

“But this slave, my lord, defended by your dear mother.”

“In the meantime, remind me to make a potion so your poison in her could disappear.”

“Harry.” This time Y/N was the one who rebuked him. Her head tilted sideways with eyebrows arched at her boyfriend.

“It's a shame you need your lady to defend you, my lord.” Lucas laughed. Y/N could feel Harry got tense instantly, and she knew what would happen if she didn't try to clear the situation. Yes, what Lucas said was just a joke, but he didn't know the thing.

“That doesn't mean you can keep mock him, Lucas. Grow up already.” She said softly, her palm under the table rubbed Harry's thigh. She didn't need to be told Harry was glancing at her from the side, yet she was relieved when Harry had his hand over hers. A small gesture like this that always touched Harry’s heart, very simple but the effect was overwhelming for him. He smiled faintly while his fingertips stroking her knuckles.

“I'm sorry, Anne.” Y/N smiled apologetically at Anne, “I didn't mean to caused chaos.”

“It's all right, sweetheart. If you didn't stop them, they would go for another hour.” Anne waved her hand, “Don't be sorry. Sometimes these boys need someone to snap their words.”

“That knocked my sense that Harry will be twenty-six tomorrow yet he's still a boy.”

“He's still your baby boy, Anne. No matter what.” Y/N told her, yet her eyes were on her lover. Harry just grinned, his finger caressing her thumb. They didn't know that both Anne and Lucas been watching them. Harry mouthed a thank you to her with his dimples clearly visible from the way he smiled broadly. His bunny teeth made him look even cuter. Anne didn't know what her son thanked her for, but whatever it was, she was happy to see Harry could smile so brightly. She had never seen Harry smile so wide like that even when he was with his former lovers. In this current relationship, he was bright and radiant. More than the last time Anne saw him.

They continued eating in silence. Y/N helped Anne to do the dishes while the boys cleaned up the dining table afterwards.

“See, the boys are fine with each other now.” Anne voiced, “They are always like that since their childhood. At the end of the day, they will make up again. Lucas is a good person. He was the first family to approach Harry when we were introduced to the extent of Styles family.”

She stopped wiping the plate all of a sudden, as if aware of something. Slowly, she turned her head at Y/N who was standing next to her. “Excuse me, but.. did you know that me and Harry– ”

“I knew the story, Anne. Harry told me everything.” Y/N interjected, “It was fortunate that you and Harry finally found the safe place. You and him deserve better and I guess God really bless you both.”

“And I guess God really loves Harry.” Anne uttered a soft murmur, “Because, he blesses him with someone like you.”

“If I'm being honest, Harry is on the happiest stage in his life right now. And I can see, why.” She added, “And I thank you for that. You made my Harry happier than before.”

Y/N chuckled, her thumb wiping her now glossy eyes. “Why do I want to cry now?”

“Ooh, sweetheart.” Anne took her petite body in a big hug, “I'm the one who should be crying now. And I trust him to you, Y/N. Promise me to always keep him happy.”

Anne smiled when she felt Y/N nodded in her shoulder, “Always, Anne.” . . . .

The families began to arrive when the sun started to fall from its peak. Lucas mother, Karen, was the last person to come with her daughter when it was dark. Harry didn't know why his mother invited almost all their families to had a sleepover for his birthday. Well, technically it was just Lucas with his mother and sister, his grandparents, and his pregnant cousin with her husband and their three-year-old daughter.

Y/N got along really well with all of them, especially with Lisa – his preggo cousin and Lucy, her baby girl. During the dinner, Lucy always hots on her tail wherever she walked. Harry was a little jealous because his girlfriend was stolen by his niece, but he couldn't do much.

“Lucy, baby. Leave aunty Y/N alone. Do you see uncle Hawwy is sad?” Lisa cooed from her seat, her hand holding her seven months baby bump. Everyone chuckled in response, but Lucy didn't budge. She still playing with Y/N's hands while sitting in her lap.

“Hey, Lu. You didn't miss me, did you?” Harry tried to talk to her. Lucy shook her head, made him sigh in relent.

“Fine then. You're not allowed to kiss me.” He rolled his eyes, folding his arms together. He cracked a small smile when he felt Lucy crawled to him. Her tiny chubby leg pressing his thigh while the other one still on Y/N's lap.

“Kissy!” Lucy shouted, stretching her hands for Harry to pick her up. Everyone laughed as Harry grasped her armpit, took her from Y/N. Lucy grumbled happily while her tiny palms scratched his jaw, then laughing hysterically when Harry snuggled her soft neck.

“Everyone loves Harry.” Lucas spoke, the rest of the family nodded their head in agreement. Lucy pouted her lips, waiting for Harry to kiss her.

“Because I'm irresistible, Lucas.” Harry said smugly before landed a smooch on Lucy's tiny lips. The little girl snuggled into him, yet her eyes peeked on Y/N who was sat next to him. Y/N playfully waved her hands to her, made Lucy babbled as she buried her face in Harry’s neck in shy.

“Yeah, I can't wait for my son to get too attached to you, Harry.” Thomas, Lucy's father, responded to him. “But I'll keep my eyes on him once he's born. I won't let you make my children love you more than me.” He added with a mocking smile.

“Everyone, girls and boys, can't resist my charm, Thomas. Don't forget that.” Harry shrugged, his large palm rubbing Lucy's back with her head resting on his shoulder.

“No, daddy. Uncle Hawwy is love!” Lucy yelled quietly. Everyone awwed in response, while Thomas just shaking his head. Harry stuck out his tongue in mockery, “See?”

“I can't wait to see Harry someday with his own children.” His granny snickered, “He absolutely will spoil his children too much. I don't doubt that.”

“I can see that.” His grandfather nodded, “He's very good with kids.”

Harry felt the weight on his torso increased, he beamed at how Lucy fell asleep on his stomach. Carefully, he carried the child and took her to her parents' room. Thomas and Lisa thanked him for that. When Harry returned to the family room, he saw his girlfriend was chatting with Mandy, Lucas' younger sister. Only him, Y/N, Mandy, and Lucas left since the elderly already went to the bed. It was a little after ten, no wonder why the youngster still gathered.

“Harry, is Clementia coming tomorrow? ” Mandy asked him once he took the empty seat next to Y/N.

“Unfortunately, no. This is her project week so she can't leave her school.” Harry shook his head, “But I think she will Facetime me tomorrow.”

“Harry, do you fancy a late workout? I haven't been to the gym for a long time.” Lucas offered after sipping his water. Harry seemed to think before accepting his offer, “Sure. I'll be down in ten minutes.”

Harry stood up from his seat, went to his bedroom upstairs to change his clothes. Yet Lucas still on his place, not move any muscles.

“You needn't change clothes?” Mandy was eyeing her brother up and down whilst asked him a question, “Your PJ will be drenched on sweat.”

“I can wear whatever I want, darling.”

“Why aren't you changing clothes, Lucas?” Harry's voice was heard after five minutes disappeared when he jogged down the stairs. He wore a white tank with black training shorts. His curls were pinned by a pink hair clip.

“Yes, yes I will change, father.” Lucas mocked him, headed to his bedroom to change. Mandy rolled her eyes before took the tv remote and switching the channel she liked, her hands were busy digging into her chips bag.

Took the vacant seat next to his girlfriend, Harry swirled her strands. “If you want to join, you're more than welcome, darling. I'll be in the gym.”

“Maybe I’ll come if I’m bored.”

“Okay then.” Harry just nodded, patting her head before joined Lucas who was waiting for him at the end of the stairs.

“Why do they like to workout at this time? It's like multiple times I've seen them practice at midnight.” Mandy mumbled to herself, but Y/N heard what she just said. Although the television was on, her voice was quite audible since there were only two of them there.

“Oh. They love to do the late workout?” Y/N frowned, it was the first time she saw Harry work out late. She and Harry always had a morning gym session, but he never had a late session like this.

“I think it's because they have a companion to do that.” Mandy told her, “Has Harry ever do the late workout when he was with you?”

“No, we always do in the morning.” She bit her lip, “Maybe he never ask me because he thinks I don't like working out at night.”

The sixteen-year-old girl just nodded her head, “Have you met Clementia?”

“Yes, I met her when she was visiting Harry a few months ago. Been a long time. Too bad she couldn't come.”

“Yeah, too bad she's in Italy for school. But good for her, if I was her, I would be over the moon for studying abroad.” She sighed, “Unfortunately, Lucas won't allow me if I have the chance. Plus, my parents also don't want me to go to uni to far from home.”

“Why is that?”

“Because..” She stopped, “I don't know, but maybe I can persuade them someday. Lucky for Cece, she has the most supportive brother ever.”

“If you can get the scholarship too, it will be plus point for study abroad.”

“Yeah, that's why I have to try extra hard.” Mandy agreed, “Well, I want to go to bed. Good night, Y/N.”

“Night, Mandy.”

Mandy threw her small wave before she went upstairs to her room. Y/N didn't what to do, she hadn't been sleepy due to the nap she took after lunch. Yet, being alone here made her uncomfortable. Called her clingy but she didn’t want to go bed without Harry.

Maybe went to see Harry in the gym wouldn't bad. – Her inner goddess patted her chin.

Rose her body up, Y/N let her legs took her to the gym in the lower ground. Through the big glass door, she saw Lucas on the treadmill while Harry was sweating under the Lat pull-down machines. His thin tanktop drenched, showing his inked tattoo beneath. His veins popped due to how strong he pulled, his bulging muscles looked so tense yet relaxed. Both of the men didn't aware of her arrival.

She gulped when his shoulder, biceps, and back muscles were forming every time he tugged the grip down. His rigid jaw looked sharper when he clenched his teeth. Y/N admitted that she was slightly aroused when sweat dripping on him. She had to go before her wetness down there getting worse. The best choice for her right now was to go to bed immediately, even though without Harry.

After cleaned up herself and changing her clothes, Y/N unzipped her bag and pulled out a small black box – putting it inside the nightstand. She planned to give her present to Harry when he woke up tomorrow morning. Laying down onto the bed, she pulled the comforter and shut her eyes closed. She tried to fall asleep with a smile formed on her face, couldn't wait for Harry's birthday tomorrow.

But, Y/N seemed too excited that made her couldn't sleep. She just tossed around the bed, tried to find a good position to sleep. She didn't realise she kept tossing around for an hour. She was exhausted and wanted to sleep, but her eyes wouldn't allow it yet. She heard the door being opened thirty minutes later. Someone entered her and Harry's bedroom and closed the door after.

“Hey, why haven't you fallen asleep yet?” Harry inquired after Y/N pushed the comforter and leaned against the headboard.

“I couldn't sleep.” She shrugged, “I'm exhausted but my eyes won't comply with my body.”

“Maybe because you're already used to sleep cuddling with me.”

“You're such narcissistic.” She rolled her eyes playfully, “Clean your body and go to sleep with me.”

“Now, who said I was narcissistic earlier?” he joked before vanished into the bathroom. Y/N shook her head as she lay down to the bed before jolted right away, her brain suddenly remembered something. Her hand grabbed her phone on the nightstand beside the bed, unlocking the device. The screen light blinded her eyes for a moment, contrary to the dimmed lights on the room. It showed 00.15 am on February 1st. Her boyfriend was officially getting older today.

Grinning, she propped herself up with her elbow, opened the drawer to get the present and hit it under the pillow.

Harry exited the bathroom thirty minutes later. His upper body was half dry with the towel wrapped around his hips to the knees. Y/N bit her lips when Harry dropped the thick fabric until it pooled down to his feet caused his bare bum was facing her. Her eyes raked his body up and down. Sometimes she forgot his backside body was almost naked from the tattoos except for his left arms. His shoulders which had looked tense before, were relaxed now. His back was so soft, but when he was stretching, the muscles formed in its mighty. The waist, the tiny waist... she couldn't believe him when he told her he wore size 26 in jeans. His waist was tiny yet his body was broad. And the last, his bum looked normal. Yet, if he wore tight pants, his bum was very full and rounded.

Stop drooling over him you horny girl! her inner goddess scoffed.

Y/N blinked her eyes at the same time Harry wore his boxer. He threw the towel in the basket before joining her in bed.

“Happy birthday, H.” Y/N gave him a small smile, her hands fumbling together in her lap.

“Oh, it's February already?” he rose his eyebrow before checking his phone. He cackled as his phone screen showing his birth date, “I'm getting a year older now.”

“Come here, birthday boy.” Said her, with both arms wide open. He happily brought his body to her, swayed their bodies back and forth. Harry felt Y/N showering his neck with kisses while muttering some birthday wishes. Her hand rubbed his back while the other one stroking his hair.

“I wish that you'll always be happy.” She hummed on his shoulder, feeling Harry's arms cradled her weight; carried her to his lap.

“I'll be happy if you're happy too, darling.” He reacted in a cheesy way. Y/N couldn't help but laugh, her eyes were slightly teary but she wiped them off. She was a little emotional because he sure looked happy, yet in her heart there was a little sense of sadness, because every day he was always staked out by the shadow of anger that could change him in the blink of an eyes.

“Okay, I got you a present.” She sniffled as she let go of his arms. Her hand took something that had been prepared under her pillow.

“I know you like to keep some accessories and pieces of jewellery.” She rambled, placing the small box on his hand. “I hope you like it.”

“What is it?” he smiled, shaking the box next to his ear. But she just shook her head; asked him to open it. Harry carefully lifted the lid, his eyes slightly widened with eyebrows furrowed together. Meanwhile, his girlfriend in front of him squeezed her hands together, she couldn't take his expression. She just wished Harry liked her present.

“This is so beautiful.” He mumbled, take it out from the cushion carefully. In his hand, rested a black crucifix necklace. The material was stainless steel yet it was light.

“You have a few rings but you only have one cross necklace, so I thought it would be a friend of your cross one.” She shrugged, “It helps you remember that you're not alone, H.”

“Thank you so much. This is very thoughtful. I love it.” He declared, “Want to help me with this?”

Y/N picked the necklace and asked him to turn around. He did as she said, lowered his head a little. Harry had his eyes set on the crucifix pendant which was now hanging right on his chest, joining the silver cross one.

“Perfect” She stated after she made sure the hook was perfectly attached. Harry whirled and cupped her face with his right palm while his left slipped behind her neck, molded their lips together. Their kiss was soft, yet ravishing. He gently laid her down until her back hit the bed. Their collided lips getting more aggressive and passionate when he crawled over her. Her body was locked by his, she was small compared to him but sometimes her strength was strong enough to flip his body and sat on top of him.

She moaned when he kneaded her breast before he took off her camisole. Harry smirked as his eyes stared at her tense nipples hungrily. He wasted no time to latch on her, sucking her bud as he twirled his tongue on it.

“Oh!” Y/N cried over the sensation, her fingers tugged his roots, ruffled them messily. Her panted breath made her chest and of course her breast rose up and down. Harry hastily pressed her stomach down with his palms.

“Are we really going to have sex with Jesus watching us?” she laughed, tugging his necklace.

“Let's just pretend our sex would be blessed.” He whispered, “I mean.. I have a cross on me before and we always succeded our sex activities.”

“Now we're talking about God and sex.” Y/N shook her head jokingly.

“Because that's the definition of sin.” Harry added before kissed her again. Y/N wrapped her legs around his tiny waist while her hand buried in his thick hair. She sighed in pleasure while Harry sucked her neck, adorned her skin with his lovebite.

Up all night they spent with sex, worshipping each other's bodies. They didn't care if their moans or scream being heard all over the house. Their bedroom was very at the end, secluded from other rooms. In his mind, Harry praised himself in choosing a room here. Aside from this room was indeed his old bedroom, this was the most spacious after his mother's bedroom. This room also had a big window and he liked the view outside.

“Harry..”

Every moan Y/N let out that night made his lust getting higher and higher. And he’d always knew they could go for a few rounds later.

. .

Please excuse some errors. Chat me here!

[onedayiwillflyfree]

When the Sun Begins to Fall Chapter 8: Royal Gardner

Chapter 8: Royal Gardner

(Chapter nine is the second half of this chapter!)

“I can’t believe you still have this!” Cole exclaimed as he held up a sketch that he had penned years ago. Gilbert smiled smally to himself, he had always loved the portrait of Anne. Her long fire braids gently over her shoulders and not a freckle was out of place. He had even managed to capture the sparkle in her eyes that always accompanied her smile. If he had that much talent as a teenager, it was no wonder his sculptures and paintings were taking the world by storm.

“Of course I kept it,” Anne smiled weakly. Despite Roys promise not to wake her, the moment she heard her friends step through the threshold of her room, her eyes shot open and her spirits lifted immediately. “You made me look beautiful when I was so homely.” Liar Gilbert thought. Anne had never looked homely a day in her life, not even now when she had been so terribly ill and hadn’t bathed in days. Diana held another forkful of eggs to Anne’s lips, who grimaced and pushed it away. She looked up pleadingly to Gilbert. “No more please.” 

Diana looked to Gilbert for approval. He gave a curt nod as he stepped forward to retrieve the plate when Roy stepped in front of him. 

“Allow me, Di,” he said as he grabbed the plate. Gilbert had known this man for all of five minutes but whenever he heard the sound of Roy’s accented voice, he instantly felt nauseous. And what was his problem with nicknames? 

“Thank you Roy, that’s very kind of you.” Diana’s voice was sweet, genuinely thankful. This too infuriated Gilbert, because ever since her arrival, Diana had spoken to him with such malice despite everything he had been doing for Anne. Roy walked over to Anne’s armoire and placed the plate upon it, shooting him a wink only he could see. Gilbert clenched his jaw, grinding the back of his teeth together to fight off a scowl.

Cole cocked his head to the side, still entranced with his old sketch, before he pushed it away from him as if the sight of it disgusted him. “Yeah...that’s not going to do.” He reached into his bag, producing a sketchbook covered with black dust. It wasn’t until he pulled out his drawing utensil that Gilbert realized it must be charcoal. “Anne, can you sit up a tad more for me?”

Her eyes rolled to the side, peering at him through half closed lids. “Really?” 

Cole nodded, flipping to a bare page. “Yes! The muses are speaking to me and they're telling me I need to update this sketch. Diana, help her please.”Anne groaned as Diana giggled and pulled her friend forward, arranging a bundle of pillows behind her so she could sit up without much effort. “Perfect! Royal, can you open the curtain just a smidge more? There is a shadow.”

As Roy slid the curtain open, Anne covered her face. “Honestly Cole, I look…” she coughed, causing hair to fly into her eyes. “I look positively frightful.”

Gilbert wanted to step forward, brush her hair from her eyes and tell her that it was impossible for her to look anything other than stunning. That she was sunshine personified. He almost took a step, not caring any longer who would hear. But Roy was quicker crossing the room, sitting down at the end of her bed and brushed a curl of fire behind her ear. Anne’s eyes rose to his, appearing shocked by his touch.

“My dearest, you and I both know you’re lovelier than autumn leaves, than the first blooms of spring, and the freshly fallen snow.” His hand gingerly lingered on his fiancée’s cheek, which were slowly shifting from a pale peonie to a deep scarlet. Anne’s eyes shot to Gilbert, who refused to meet her gaze for fear his heart would shatter. He still felt the burn from her gaze when he cleared his throat to remind the couple of the no touching rule.

Roy pulled his hand away slowly, eyes not leaving Anne. “Sorry, can’t help myself sometimes. My bride is just simply irresistible,” Roy glanced over his shoulder with a smirk. “Wouldn’t you agree, Gil?” Diana’s mouth sat agape as she looked in between the two men as Anne bit her lip, gaze not leaving Gilbert. Cole, who had become completely focused on his sketch, seemed oblivious to the tensions that were slowly building.

Gilbert smiled tightly, a piece of his scabbed cheek resting between his molars. Roy licked his lips, holding Gilbert’s glare for a moment when he let out a soft chuckle as he rose from the bed. “With your own bride to be, of course.” He took confident strides towards the aspiring doctor in the corner. “From what I’ve been informed, she is rival to that love goddess... what was her name again, dear?”

Anne looked down at her hands, her embarrassment becoming more and more apparent. “Aphrodite.”

Roy snapped his fingers as he closed the space between them further. “That’s it. Aphrodite. Tell me Gil,” He stood mere inches from Gilbert and smirked once more. “Is she truly rival to Aphrodite?” 

Gilbert peered over Roy’s shoulder, eyes scanning for Anne. Her own eyes were still glued to her intertwined hands, out of embarrassment or exhaustion he didn’t know. He swallowed and spoke slowly. “Winnie is...”

Cole stopped scratching the charcoal against the page. “Anne, you can lay back now, but still try to keep your face towards me.” Anne looked relieved as she slid down deeper into her pillows, looking as if she could drift off at any moment.

Gilbert decided that she wasn’t paying the men any mind, he turned his attention back to Roy, who was grinning smugly.  “Winnie is rather lovely.”

As the words left his mouth, he turned his gaze to Anne, curious to see if she was going to react at all. To see she was feeling any of the same jealousy he felt when Roy had taken her face in his hands. Despite her eyes fluttering shut, she still found his eyes and he could see it. The storm that was so often paired with her anger was brewing within her.

Their stares were broken when Roy shifted just enough to block them from seeing one another, an aura of protectiveness radiating off of him as he balled his fists. Gilbert wanted to chuckle, was Roy actually jealous? Was he trying to start a fight with him? Roy had a good few inches on him, sure, but from what Gilbert could tell, that was about all he had going for him. His hands looked soft, like a man who was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. He was lanky, well kept, and in all honesty, appeared to be far too posh to have ever actually punched someone before. Gilbert’s anger was making its return, something that was becoming more and more frequent over the last few days.

“Roy!” Diana broke the silence. Roy glanced over his shoulder as Diana pressed her hand against Anne’s forehead. “Could you bring me that pitcher? I imagine Anne would like to wash her face, it has been a few days..”

Roy swiped a finger across his lip and clapped Gilbert’s shoulder with a smile. “Well, cannot wait to meet that girl of yours!” With that, he turned and reached for the water pitcher and basin resting on top of Anne’s armoire. He picked up the pitcher, looking into it sadly.  “Looks like we need some more. I’ll...”

“I’ll get it.” Gilbert stepped forward, ripping the jug from Roy before exiting from the room. He needed to get out of the room, he didn’t want to lose his temper. Not in front of Anne, especially with her feeling so sick. Once he crossed the threshold, he heard a loud smack followed by an annoyed grunt.

“What was that for Diana?” he heard Cole ask cluelessly. Gilbert rolled his eyes and took a deep breath before making his way down the hall. 

His mind wandered to what had just happened a few moments prior. Was Roy truly trying to pick a fight? What was that guy's problem with him?And why did he feel the need to protect Anne against Gilbert of all people? Gilbert hadn’t done anything to him, he had only just met him less than an hour ago. And as far as he knew, he had never done anything to hurt Anne, not intentionally anyway. If anything, Gilbert should hate him, for Roy held the one thing he had always desired. No, no, Gilbert, that is on you. You gave up that fight. He gave up the right to Anne’s affection the moment he slid a ring onto Winifred’s finger.

“Just be happy for them,” he whispered to himself as he descended down the stairs. 

In the kitchen, he spotted Mrs Lynde sitting by the fire, still continuing on the same lavender scarf she was working on yesterday morning. He was unsure why she was still working on it, the scarf was surely longer than his entire body at this point, but he had no intention of asking her why she wasn’t stopping. Especially not after he saw Marilla on her knees with a bucket of water and a scrub brush, cleaning every inch she could reach and grumbling with each stroke. 

“What’s happening? They aren’t bothering her too much are they? No, that’s silly, they’re her friends. Does she need more food? Drink? Tea. I should make tea.” She threw the brush into the bucket as she stood, droplets landing on Rachel and her masterpiece. 

“Heavens sake, Marilla!” Rachel scolded, wiping the moisture from her face. Marilla ignored her, grabbing the kettle to fill from the spout and let out a small sob. Rachel sighed, looking sadly at her friend as she threw her masterpiece into her yarn bag and swiftly made her way to her friend and rested a gentle hand upon Marilla’s shoulder. “Marilla, you need to rest. I’ll make the tea.” Marilla opened her mouth to argue but was waved off as Rachel filled the kettle and placed it on the stove. “She is with her friends, they will fetch you if need be. Besides, Gilbert is up there. And we all know how that boy is when Anne is involved.”

He shifted awkwardly on the final step, it was strange to hear someone talk about him as if he wasn’t present. It also caused him to realize his presence could raise tensions and cause unneeded worry. He eyed the back door. Perhaps I can sneak out without alerting either of them, get water from the outside spicket. Yeah, that could work...

“Hey Doc! What’s taking you so long?” Roy shouted from the top of the steps, compromising his location. Both women spun, Marilla’s face falling. 

“What’s wrong? Does she need me?” Marilla sputtered out, looking seconds away from bolting up the stairs. 

Gilbert shook his head frantically. “No, no she’s...”

“No need to worry Miss Cuthbert.” Roy bounced down the steps. Gilbert resisted the urge to scowl as Roy bumped his shoulder hard when he joined him on the platform.“Anne just wanted to wash up a bit is all, so Gil here was coming to fill up the pitcher for her. Weren’t you, Gil?”

Call me Gil one more time… Gilbert smiled tightly, fighting every urge within him to not push Roy off the steps.

Marilla locked eyes with Gilbert. “So, she is alright?” 

“Yes,” Roy and Gilbert responded in unison before they each shot a disgusted glare towards the other. 

Roy cleared his throat, snatching the pitcher from Gilbert’s grasp and drifted towards the older women. What is with this prick? “When I left them to come see what the hold up was on the water,” Another glare over his shoulder. “The three of them were laughing over something Diana had said. I assure you Miss Cuthbert, Anne is well.” Roy gave a reassuring smile. 

Marilla nodded, finding some comfort in the young man's words. Her eyes drifted to Roy’s hands. “Give that to me, I’ll fill it for you so you can be on your way.” 

“Thank you Miss Cuthbert, you’re too kind.” The pitcher exchanged hands, Marilla stepping to the sink to fill it. Gilbert was surprised at how genuine the man’s voice was and that he had managed to calm Marilla so quickly. Roy flashed another bright smile as the pitcher made his way back to him. “Thank you.” Marilla gave a curt nod before he continued. “Also, I would like to apologize for our intrusion, I know Anne needs her rest.”

She smiled softly. “Think nothing of it Roy. Anne needs her rest, yes, but knowing her, she also needs you all here. We all know if she were alone with only me for company, she would be incredibly bored.” Marilla chuckled before glancing over to Gilbert. “It is so wonderful to hear these halls filled with laughter once more.” Gilbert smiled, fond memories flashing through his mind.

Roy looked between the pair. “Well, when Anne is feeling better, I would love to hear some of those stories. And later on, it will be wonderful to be apart of new memories.” He said the words in response to Marilla but his focus had fallen on Gilbert, their eyes locking and anger brewing.

Marilla smiled nervously, as if she could sense the rising tensions. “Yes. Of course.” 

The kettle whistled from the stove and Rachel clapped her hands together. “Finally!” She went grabbed the kettle, oblivious to all the going ons in the room as she poured the water into a teapot. Roy and Gilbert continued their stares, tensions building higher and higher with each passing moment. “Boys, would you like some tea?”

“No thank you, Mrs Lynde,” Roy said smoothly, not breaking his gaze. “Gil and I should be getting back up to my girl anyway.” Marilla continued looking between the pair as Gilbert balled his hands.

“Come along, Marilla,” Mrs Lynde said, corralling her friend from the room. “We have many things to catch up on.” Marilla opened her mouth to speak but Rachel continued on, giddy to share the latest gossip. “You will not believe what I heard about the eldest Andrews girl! She’s trying to buy a farm up in Nova Scotia!” And with that, Roy and Gilbert were left alone, one smirking while the other was holding his fists so tightly that crescent cuts were beginning to form from his fingernails. 

Seconds had ticked by when Roy cracked a smirk. “You alright, Gil?” 

“I’m fine.” Gilbert mumbled. Roy’s lips dropped into a frown as he rested the pitcher on the table, stepping towards the platform. 

“It’s alright Gil, you can tell me. We’re friends aren’t we?” Roy clapped his hands against Gilbert’s shoulders. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Gilbert yanked his shoulders away, for fear if lingered a moment longer he would lose control. “Don’t touch me...” 

Roy held his hands up defensively, chuckling. “Woah Doc. What’s the problem?”

“What’s your problem, friend?” Gilbert spat back at him. Roy smirked and let out a dry chuckle as he cocked his head to the side. 

“My problem? Hmm, let me think.” He tapped his chin as if he was deep in thought and began pacing in front of the stairs. “Well I have problems with quite a few things actually. The color fuchsia, chalk dust, messy hair and clothes, someone hurting people I deeply care for,” he peered over as he ceased pacing. “Oh, and poor little farm boys who are trying to pretend to be something they are not.” Gilbert felt his face flush out of rage and embarrassment as Roy stepped forward again, their noses almost touching. “Which, I’m pretty sure you share at least three of those things, don’t you Gil?” Gilbert bit down on the scab in his cheek, causing his mouth to fill with metallic tasting liquid. Don’t stoop to his level. Focus on Anne. 

He swallowed, pushing past Roy to make his way to the pitcher. “We should get back upstairs.” Gilbert mumbled. 

“You’re right. We should.” Roy stepped up the platform, ready to ascend the stairs before he quickly turned back. “Oh, one more question, Gil. Do you know where Anne’s soap is? She so enjoys when I wash her.”

Gilbert stiffened. “What did you say?”

Roy shrugged. “I know it's taboo to see each other before the wedding but...we simply couldn’t resist.” Gilbert felt his stomach fall to the floor, he felt as if he could vomit. He must have paled because Roy smiled wickedly. “Man to man? She has the softest breasts...” 

Rage blinded Gilbert as he threw himself across the kitchen, taking Roys shirt within his hands and shoving him against the wall with such force he was sure he would push him through it. 

Roy cackled. “So you do have feelings!” 

Gilbert’s voice came out close to a growl. “Don’t talk about her like she is your goddamn play thing.” 

“Oh? And why not?” Roy grinned maliciously, it was almost as if he was having fun. “She’s my bride to be. That makes her my toy to play with.” 

The next moments passed in a blur. Roy being thrown from the steps and crashing into the kitchen table. Gilbert throwing a rage fueled punch into his opponent's cheek. Mrs Lyndes screams of horror as Marilla cried for Cole. Roy laughed as he caught Gilbert’s second punch and shoved him into the wall. Gilbert’s head bounced against the wall, dazing him for only a moment as he saw Roy beeline for the door.

He caught his footing, sprinting after the man who was trying to escape. Marilla screamed for him to stop but he couldn’t hear her. After days of feeling rage and keeping it contained, it had finally boiled out of the pot.

Roy was waiting just outside the door by the wall, holding a foot out  as he ran through the door. Gilbert tripped, flying across the porch before crashing into Anne’s dormant daylilies. He rolled onto his back, gasping for the wind that was just knocked out of him. Roy jumped off the porch, smirking down at his fallen foe. “Well, that was easier than I thought.” He cocked an eyebrow, as if he was genuinely confused. “Still have no idea what she sees in you.”

“You don’t... deserve...her.” Gilbert panted out between each laboured breath. 

Roy let out a hearty chuckle. “That’s real rich coming from you.” Gilbert ignored him and tried to reach for the standing man ankle. Roy pressed down hard with the heel of his shoe, applying just enough pressure to pin his hand to the ground. “Do you realize how many times you have broken her heart? How many times I heard her cry over you?” He pressed down harder with each question as he bared his teeth. Gilbert groaned, he felt like his hand was going to be crushed at any moment. “And now I come here and find out you’re nothing special. Nothing more than a…” He felt his knuckle shift, if Roy stepped down much harder, his hand would break. “Pathetic...little...”

“Royal!” Cole shouted as he threw open the screened door. Roy’s attention shot to Cole, lifting his foot just enough that Gilbert could pull his hand free. Gilbert rolled over, grabbing his opponents ankle and yanking him to the ground. 

“Gilbert, stop!” Diana screamed, but he couldn’t bear her. All he could hear was ringing in his ears, hatred consuming his soul. Cole lunged forward just as Gilbert was about climb on top of the downed man and wrapped  his arms around him. Roy scrambled to his feet and sprinted away. 

Gilbert struggled in Cole’s grasp before he reared his head back, making contact with some part of Cole’s face. “Shit!” Cole yelled, releasing Gilbert. He didn’t hesitate for a moment before he dug his feet into the dirt and took off after the man he had quickly come to hate.

They were halfway across the yard when he finally began to close the distance between them. Gilbert’s lungs stung and is head throbbing but the pain was good, it made him push himself. It added to the rage. 

Gilbert was a few paces away when Roy made the mistake of looking back, causing him to stumble. Got you. He smiled devilishly as his fingers curled around his opponents collar and pulled him back sharply. Roy crashed to the ground, winded just as Gilbert had been a few moments prior. 

Diana and Cole screamed for him to stop. He wanted to listen, he knew he should listen. But every ounce of anger that he had suppressed, not only from this weekend, but the last two years since he proposed to the wrong woman, was finally out. Gilbert threw himself on top of the man who earned the affection of the woman he truly loved, the man who he thought he should be. Roy struggled beneath him but it was no use, Gilbert’s full weight rested on top of him and his arms were pinned. He raised his fist when Cole grabbed his arm. “Stop! This isn’t you!” he cried. Gilbert threw his elbow back, making contact with his friend's stomach. Cole stumbles back and Gilbert brought his fist down, making contact with Roy’s cheek. 

“Jerry! Jerry!” Diana screamed towards the barn as a second punch came down, this one grazing connecting with his opponents lip. Where’s that smug grin now? He thought. His knuckles stung, he was sure that skin had broken on them but that didn’t stop him from pulling his fists back for another punch. 

He aimed for Roy's nose, hoping to shift it just enough that he would have to breathe through his mouth for the rest of his life but was stopped when strong arms wrapped around him. Suddenly he was being pulled up and dragged away from his opponent. 

“Get off of me!” he growled, thrashing wildly, hoping to break free. He wasn’t done yet. He wanted to hit him harder, he wanted him to ensure he would never disrespect Anne again. 

“Calm down!” Jerry shouted. Gilbert thrashed, doing everything in his power to break free but it was no use. Jerry had become the caretaker of the farm since Matthew’s passing, which meant not only did he have almost a foot on Gilbert, but he had the muscles to match. If Gilbert had continued working at the farm, perhaps he could stand a chance but his months in Paris had made him weaker. He stopped thrashing, his fury simmering down. Jerry still held onto him in fear he would soon lash out again.

Cole dropped down next to Roy, who had somehow moved himself into a sitting position. He lifted a tender hand to Roy’s cheek, almost appearing like he was going to stroke it, when he quickly shifted it down to his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“Peachy.” He mumbled, spitting out a glob of blood. Gilbert smirked in satisfaction.

Diana breathed a sigh of relief before she shot daggers to Gilbert, stomping furiously towards him. It was only then  Jerry let go of him. He knew all too well of the wrath of the young Barry woman. She lifted a sharp hand and smacked him. “What the hell is wrong with you Gilbert?!”

Gilbert’s blood boiled again as his hand went to nurse his cheek. “What’s wrong with me?” He laughed dryly and pointed to Roy. “You should be asking what is wrong with him! He has been an absolute prick for no goddamn reason!”

“Oh, I have my reasons.” Roy said dryly as Cole helped him to his feet. “And all of them involve you being a selfish bastard.” Gilbert’s fists formed once again, begging to meet his face once again when Diana forced herself in between the two men.

“That is enough!” She boomed, looking between the two sides. “Both of you are being selfish bastards! Have you both forgotten why we are here? Anne!” They looked away from each other and to the ground, both feeling very ashamed. Diana’s voice shook as she spoke. “She is sick, so very sick. And she needs us.” Her eyes began welling tears and her knees were wobbling so intensely Gilbert thought she might fall over. “All of us are important to her…”

“Some more than others.” Roy said smugly and Gilbert couldn’t stop himself. He marched forward, ready to tackle Roy back to the ground when Diana screamed.

“They aren’t in love!”

Gilbert stumbled as he skidded to a stop, his heart racing. Did she just say what he think she said? He turned slowly towards her.“What did you just say?” 

Roy raised a hand to his chest dramatically. “Diana, how dare you insinuate…”

“Enough Roy,” Cole placed a tentative hand back on his friend’s shoulder. “You just picked a fight with him and lost, don’t you think this charade has gone too far?”

Roy gritted his teeth, looking ready to argue with everyone. Cole shook his head gently and Roy scowled. “Dammit…”

The group stood silently, all exchanging glances that ranged from anger, sadness, and utter confusion. No one spoke. No one moved. It was as if time had stopped. A hawk screech overhead, indicating that time was still moving forward, that what Gilbert heard was in fact reality and not a strange dream. 

“Well...this is awkward.” Jerry laughed dryly, hoping to ease some of the tension but it only earned him a glare from everyone. He nervously ran his fingers through his hair. “Sorry.”

Gilbert finally began to process the words Diana had said fully. They weren’t… in love? He looked to Diana, hoping she would clarify on what was said but her eyes looked remorsefully at her two friends. Cole looked nervous as he held tightly to Roy’s shoulder, as if it were the only thing keeping him upright. 

“I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have... it wasn’t my place...” Diana whispered.

“It’s alright Diana.” Roy’s demeanor had changed completely. Instead the air of arrogance in his voice, it was soft, kind almost as he spoke. He looked up at Cole. “As usual, Cole is right. I went too far.” Roy brought a tender hand up to meet Coles, both smiling gently at one another. 

Gilbert rubbed his temples, his head was really starting to hurt now. “Will someone please explain to me what is going on?” Three pairs of eyes found there way to his, a mix of embarrassment, anxiety, and what he could only guess was fear, filled each one. He turned to Diana, hoping that she would explain her words to him. “Diana, what do you mean Roy and Anne aren’t in love?”

She hesitated, ashamedly looking down at the ground. “It isn’t my place…” 

“Gilbert, allow me to explain.” Cole stepped forward, positioning his body defensively in front of Roy. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “What Diana said, it’s true. Roy isn’t in love with Anne.” 

“Ah merde!” Jerry mumbled. 

Gilbert shook his head and pressed his fingernails into his palm. His anger was trying to make a reappearance. “If he isn’t in love with her...why would he propose?” He wanted to get his hands around the smug bastards neck but one glance at Roy, all forms of confidence had been erased. Instead his gaze was to the floor, almost cowering behind the blonde man. The mere sight of it almost made Gilbert laugh. “What? No fancy words now? No explanation on why you would want to marry someone you don’t love?”

“Oh, you’re one to talk,” Roy mumbled. Gilbert pulled his fist back, ready to throw himself over Cole when Diana pushed him back. 

“It was Anne’s idea!” She screamed. 

Gilbert’s stomach dropped with his fist. Anne knew? “Wh-what? Why... would she do that?”

“She was doing it for us.” Cole’s voice cracked as he spoke, tears filling his eyes as he reached back and grabbed Roy’s hand within his own. Both of them were shaking. “To help protect us.” Gilbert was completely lost now. Why would two men over six foot need Anne to protect them?

”Mon dieu,” Jerry whispered from directly behind Gilbert. “You… two are...”

Cole and Roy both held their breath, waiting for Gilbert to finally place the final piece of the puzzle together. His eyes trailed down to their enlaced hands, realization dawned on him. His jaw dropped as he tried to form words. “Wait, you two are...?”

Diana quickly stepped forward to place herself in between the men. “Gilbert, you may not like Roy, but Cole is your friend. Don’t do anything rash.”

“Anne… you two...” Gilbert worked the words the best he could. His head was spinning, he wasn’t sure if he could walk straight let alone do anything stupid. “In love... but Roy is engaged to Anne... Anne knew…” Suddenly, a happier thought formed and he looked up. “Roy doesn’t love Anne?”

Diana opened her mouth but Roy stepped forward. He looked confident now, almost returning to the cockiness that Gilbert had come to know him for. “I think it would be best if I explained. But we should start making our way back.” He cast a glance towards the house, where Marilla could be seen standing on the porch. “I’m sure Miss Cuthbert will want an explanation of our… activities.”

[satinechristian]

dimyaweek: strangers on a crazy adventure

modern au 

dedicated to @intoafterglow and her love of derek’’s baseball caps

“We don’t need to bring in a tutor to help Alexei with his Russian,” Anastasia complained to her father when Dmitry Sudayev first showed up. Well, not when he first showed up, as that would mean she complained about him in front of him and that was the sort of rude that was unforgivable to her parents and Nana. But the moment she had left the foyer from opening the door to see a teen boy standing there, wearing well worn clothing and a backwards baseball cap (of all things!) looking both beautiful and stupid, and marched into her father’s study. “Any one of us can do it.”

At this, Nicholas Romanov looked up at his youngest daughter, in a mixture of amusement and annoyance. His tone was set when he spoke, however, “And yet, none of you have.”

So it was true that her father had been asking them, mostly Maria and Anastasia as they were both still in high school and Olga and Tatiana were away at college and would have never allowed Alexei’s studies to drop to the level where an outsider would need to come in. Her oldest sisters were annoyingly perfect in that way. 

“I can do it,” she insisted, mentally trying to rearrange her school and social calendar schedule. “What are even his qualifications?”

“He speaks Russian, he reads Cyrillic and he’s shown up to help Alyosha,” her father responded. “That already puts him ahead of my daughters.” Her father looked back at the work she had interrupted. “Nastyona, go be young and have fun. Enjoy the free time this allows you.” 

She had left, but she wasn’t happy about it. Neither was her oldest sister, Olga, who had called her that night to ask her why she couldn’t have been bothered to help her little brother with his studies. 

The second time Dmitry showed up, he wore an outfit similar to the one he had worn before except even more worn out, and the same stupid hat attached to his head. He didn’t even take it off when he walked into the dining room where her brother was set up to do his studies. 

“Privyet, Dmitry!” Her younger brother greeted his tutor happily. 

Her brother was always starved for male attention, complaining he was cursed with nothing but sisters and sisters. He had been close with Olga’s high school boyfriend, but they had broken up during her sister’s senior year and now she was away at Yale in college and so they never saw her current boyfriend. Little Alexei had taken the break up harder than Olga had, being all of 9 at the time it had happened. Tatiana did not date boys, and therefore never brought any home. And Maria never dated a boy for long enough to bring him home to meet the entire family. (She was still required to have them meet their parents, if they had no previous acquaintance with him or his family. As a result, she tended to date mostly within their Russian-American circle so she didn’t have to introduce them to her parents.) And Anastasia...well, she was entirely too picky according to her sisters and classmates. 

“Privyet, Alexei,” Dmitry returned. And she resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the way he rolled his r’s when he did so. What a show off. 

“Have you met my favorite sister?” Alexei asked, in English. 

Dmitry’s gaze flickered over to her, dismissively and then replied to Alexei, “Not officially.”

“I call her Anya,” Alexei explained. It was true, he had not been able to pronounce Anastasia when he was younger and had always gotten stuck on the first two syllables. Ann-ya had softened to Anya eventually. “But everyone else calls her Anastasia.” 

Dmitry looked back over at her, assessing her. “Anya,” he tried out instead of her actual name. 

“Do you have trouble with your syllables too?” She asked, then put her hand to her mouth because it was a sort of thing to say that would get her in trouble with her parents and grandmother. 

Instead of being offended, however, Dmitry merely laughed in response. She wondered if he truly was as simple as he appeared. Dimples popped out near his jawline when he laughed and she snapped her gaze away and towards her brother. Who was glaring at her. She supposed she was not currently the favorite sister anymore. 

He pointed towards the next room with the staircase and with a rather good impression of their father for a twelve year old said, “Go to your room.”

She bristled at the tone coming from someone four years younger than her and snapped back, “Say it in Russian!”

Her brother gave a panicked look towards Dmitry who shrugged. Then Dmitry said the only smart thing she had ever heard him say when he told her brother, “I don’t think it counts if I say it for you, bud.”

Anastasia left, but she very purposefully did not go to her room. Later that night, however, her father came to her room and told her she absolutely must apologize to her brother and his tutor. 

Apologizing to Alexei was easy enough, as he was one to forgive easily and he had most likely been over her fit of temper the moment she stormed out of the room. Apologizing to Dmitry would be more difficult and probably more necessary. 

So, the next time he showed up and she opened the door for him and his stupid baseball cap, she swallowed her pride and said, “I’m sorry.”

He arched an eyebrow in response, “In Russian?”

Well, Anastasia supposed she deserved that.  She let out an annoyed breath and said, “Mne ochen’ zhal’.”

Dmitry and dimples smiled back at her, “Proyekhali, Anya.”

Anastasia decided to pick her battles. As per the advice all the older members of her family gave to her. 

She decided to make polite small talk, that may or may not also double as an interrogation. “Do you tutor many people?”

“Your brother is the first one,” he said. He was chewing gum. Of course he was. 

“School credit?”

“Community service, actually,” he told her and she found herself back at her father’s study. 

“Papa, he’s a criminal,” she told him. “He’s tutoring Alexei for community service credit.” 

“I’m well aware, Malenkaya,” her father said patiently. 

She narrowed her eyes at him because it was unlike anyone in her family to simply let anyone in and deal with their children. “What does Mama think?”

Her father let out an impatient sigh now, “Your mother is very disappointed that you and Maria couldn’t be bothered to help your brother with his studies but also believes in Christian forgiveness.” He frowned. “And also, Anastasia, with all this time you spend harassing your brother and his tutor I don’t know how you didn’t have time to help him.”

Properly shamed, she left her father’s study and avoided her brother and his tutor for his next few sessions. 

Unfortunately, walking back from her friend Katya’s house, she found him unavoidable as he fell into step beside her. 

She was surprised, as she had just assumed he had driven to their house every session but now that she thought about it she couldn’t remember seeing him coming to or from her house before. 

“Do you walk here every time?”

He glanced over, startled as though he hadn’t expected her to speak to him. She supposed she deserved that. “I walk from the bus stop.” He gestured to his clothing. “I do not live in this neighborhood.”

She just nodded in response. “Was your license suspended?”

Dmitry laughed in response, and she didn’t know why she couldn’t help but be rude around him. “Do you want to know why I’m serving community service?”

“Yes,” she answered, a little too quickly. 

He shrugged. “I got caught stealing food.”

“Oh,” she said. Something made her think it probably wasn’t just as a prank or whatever stupid reasons boys at her school stole from people with. “Where are your parents?”

“My father died a few years ago,” he responded looking straight ahead as they walked. “My mom died a few years after I was born.”

Well, now she felt every inch the spoiled brat she had probably shown herself to be. 

“Who is raising you?” She asked softly. 

“If the state asks,” he leaned over like imparting a secret to her. “My foster father is, but I’m pretty sure I’m raising us both.”

One more question, because Anastasia was nothing but curious. “Why do you always where that stupid hat?”

“You think my hat is stupid?” He teased and pulled off the cap and shook out his hair. Beautiful, thick and rather luxurious brown hair. It seemed unfair. She was hoping he had been hiding a deformity or a bald spot. 

“Ah,” she said, glancing over at him. “I can see why you kept the hat on, you are obviously hideous.”

Dmitry reached over and set the cap (forwards) on her head, pulling the lid down low over her forehead and eyes. 

“So I’m told,” he said in a way that told her he was definitely (truthfully) told the opposite. 

She tugged that hat up slightly so she could see. “Are you trying to tell me I look hideous?”

“Yes, Anya,” he said, glancing over at her. “You are the most hideous creature I’ve ever seen.”

She had no idea why that made her blush. 

The next time she opened the door to let him in for Alexei’s tutoring, he was not wearing his hat. Even though she had handed it back to him once they had reached the door last time. She wanted to have topped back on his head, like he had down to her but she didn’t know how to reach that high without physically climbing up him and she felt that would be awkward. 

She did, however, greet him in Russian (he was very hideous indeed today) and he grinned and replied in kind and they kept it up as he got out the books for Alexei. Alexei came down at some point, taking his seat. He looked between the two of them, groaning when he heard Russian being spoken. 

After a few moments of working on his Cyrillic worksheet as Dmitry and Anya continued to speak, Alexei put down his pen to glare at them. 

Or, rather, her, “You don’t need a Russian tutor.”

“I know,” she told her brother in English. “But if you keep studying you won’t be so annoyed by this.”

Her brother gave her a sickly sweet smile, “Oh, I think I’ll always find you annoying, Anya.”

Dmitry whispered to her, also in English, “Are you sure you’re his favorite sister?”

She leaned back to respond in a whisper, “Yes, you should see the rest of them.”

Alexei threw a pen at her and she shrieked as it almost hit her. Her grandmother came into the room to tell her that she wasn’t behaving like a proper young lady and to go sit with her until she could settle down. 

Dmitry winked at her as she got pulled away to the other room. 

Alexei was still pouting when Anastasia joined him and Maria in the living room later on as they watched television. He merely grunted in a greeting to her.

“What’s his problem?” Maria asked her.

“I can answer myself,” Alexei said grumpily. “And my problem is that Anya has discovered Dmitry is hot and now won’t leave us alone.”

“Ah,” Maria said, unfazed by a Romanov sibling outburst. Then she looked over at Anastasia, who had forgotten to protest her brother’s claim. “I always knew you’d end up with a juvenile delinquent.”

Anastasia crossed her arms over her chest and looked away. Now Maria could deal with two grumpy siblings for the rest of the night. 

“Hey,” Dmitry greeted her as their paths crossed once again outside her house. He, on his way to tutor her brother, and she, on her way to meet some friends at the movies because she had been declared too much of a distraction to her brother during his lessons. ‘I’m not the one she’s distracting,’ Alexei had muttered under his breath. “You’re leaving?”

“Yes,” Anya said. He was standing at the bottom of the porch steps, and she stayed three steps up and enjoyed the fact she was eye level with him for once. “I’ve been banished from my own home by a twelve year old boy.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, and even though it wasn’t his fault, he sounded far more sincere than she had back when she originally had to apologize to him. “Can I make it up to you?”

“It’s not your fault,” but also she realized being eye level really meant it was easy for her gaze to flick down to his lips. 

Lips that smiled. “What if I made it up to you outside of your dining room?”

Anastasia gasped, “You mean like the living room? Or even on this here porch?”

“I was going to get wild and suggest the backyard,” he replied. 

“Oh, a bad boy,” she teased. Then she leaned forward and kissed him, because she could. 

“I feel like you’re far more trouble than I could ever be,” Dmitry told her. “Meet me here after tutoring?”

She nodded, and let him pull her in for another kiss. 

That was quickly interrupted by the sound of the door opening and her little brother saying, “Now that you guys have gotten that out of the way, can I please learn some Russian.” 

Anastasia giggled as her and Dmitry pulled away from each other, “At least you’ve gotten him passionate about the language.”

Before he fully pulled away, he did lean in to whisper, “U tebya krasivye glaza.”

“U tyebya acheravatyel'naya ulypka,” she returned, with a smile. 

Alexei groaned and stepped forward and pulled Dmitry towards the door, while shooing his sister away with the other. 

See, her brother was finally understanding Russian enough to be properly annoyed by what they were saying.

[cocastyle]

The Lady Loves Me

Pairing- Tony Stark x reader

Word Count- 2,597

Warning- none

A/N- I’ve had this idea for a while and finally decided to sit down and write it. I really hope you all like it! The song used is The Lady Loves Me by Elvis Presley and Ann-Margaret.

“There he goes again,” Natasha muttered in amusement, her eyes on the host of the evening who was currently making his way over to where her best friend Y/N L/N was standing by the bar.

Tony Stark was going in for another one of his attempts to woo Y/N off her feet much like he did every evening that he hosted an event like the one tonight. She was the only reason he ever had parties at the Avengers Tower, each party just being another opportunity to convince the stubborn girl to go on a date with him.

Y/N hadn’t said yes yet, but that only made the man more intrigued, especially since he knew she had feelings for him. It was quite obvious really, but she was so set on denying it that she declined numerous invitations from Tony to be his date. Despite this, everyone still knew the two were head over heels for each other, Y/N was just too stubborn to admit it and Tony was too egotistic for his own good.

Steve and Bucky turned their heads to see what the red head was talking about and chuckled softly once they saw Tony approach the young girl, his hand gently resting on the small of her back as Y/N turned to look at him with a smile and a look that said she had been waiting for him to finally come talk to her.

“You think he would realize by now that her answer isn’t going to change,” Bucky said. “I don’t know, Buck. One of these days she’s going to break and say yes,” Steve told him.

Bucky glanced at his best friend and took a sip of his drink. “You think?” he asked.

“Please, Barnes. If L/N could just stop being so damn stubborn, the two would be married by now. I mean look at them,” Natasha said making all three turn to look at the couple who were currently leaning close to each other as they bantered back and forth. “I can smell the love and longing from over here,” the red head muttered with a shake of her head.

The three chuckled at that before looking back over at Tony and Y/N, each of them wondering what the two could be talking about.

“Come on, L/N. It’s just one date,” Tony said, his eyes shining down at the girl as he smiled ever so slightly. “What, you afraid you might catch feelings?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, a smile playing on her lips as she did so. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?” She asked. “Sorry, Tony. Just like the other hundred times you’ve asked me, it’s still a no.”

She expected the man’s grin to drop and for him to walk away only to return with two drinks that they would talk over for the rest of the evening like usual, but Tony didn’t move. In fact, his grin didn’t even disappear, it only grew in size as his eyes flickered over her face and the look he gave her was enough to make her cheeks heat up slightly.

“You know, I don’t think it’s that you’re afraid you might catch feelings for me if we go on a date,” Tony said. “I never-“ Y/N began to interrupt, but the man merely leaned forward, resting his arm against the bar counter as he looked at her with a smug expression on his face. “You’re afraid because you do have feelings for me,” Tony told her.

Y/N blinked in surprise, her mouth opening and closing for a second before she managed to get out, “What?”

This only made Tony smirk more and he leaned forward another inch before saying, “You like me, Y/N, don’t you? No, better yet, you love me. I know it.”

Y/N watched the man in silence for a moment before shaking her head. “You wish,” she retorted. Tony merely smirked at her, the look on his face saying that he knew what he said was true and that nothing she said or do could change his mind.

Frustrated and a little flustered by the look Tony was giving her, Y/N shook her head and began to walk away. She began to make her way across the room and over to where she could see Natasha talking with Steve and Bucky, but she had barely even made it half way before she heard the strumming of a guitar from behind her.

Y/N turned her head back in confusion and stopped in her tracks, a look of amusement and shock on her face once she saw that Tony had borrowed the guitar from the musicians and was standing at the front of the stage, his eyes on her as he began to strum and play a tune.

“She loves me, she loves me not

She loves me, she loves me not

She loves me, she loves me, she loves me

The lady loves me and it shows

In spite of the way she turns up her nose

I'm her ideal, her hearts desire

Under that ice she's burning like fire.”

Tony gently hopped off the stage and began to move across the room. Y/N gave him a look of amusement and raised an eyebrow at him, her arms crossing in front of her chest as he came to a stop in front of her.

“She'd like to cuddle up to me

She's playing hard to get

The lady loves me, but she doesn't know it yet.”

Everyone was watching at this point and Y/N knew what Tony was trying to do. The small mischievous glint in his eyes gave him away and Y/N narrowed her eyes at him as she smirked. Challenge accepted.

Y/N dramatically rolled her eyes at the man making him chuckle in amusement while she looked to the crowd and began to sing.

“The gentleman has savoir-faire

As much as an elephant or a bear

I'd like to take him for a spin

Back to the zoo to visit his kin

He's got about as much appeal as a soggy cigarette.”

Her eyes flickered over to Tony and she took a step towards him before putting a hand on his chest. Tony smiled down at her, continuing to play the guitar as he did and becoming totally entranced with the very being of the girl in front of him. Y/N gave him a smug grin.

“The lady loathes him but he doesn't know it yet.”

Before Tony knew what was happening, Y/N had shoved him away with the hand that was on his chest and had started to walk away. Tony blinked in surprise and was quick to step in front of the girl.

“The lady's got a crush on me.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and walked around him.

“The gentleman's crazy obviously.”

Tony took a few quick strides until he was by her side. He began to walk in an angle, forcing the girl to walk sideways as well until he had trapped her up against a wall. Tony smirked and took a step forward so that their faces were only inches apart.

“The lady's dying to be kissed.”

Tony leaned forward, but right when his lips were about to touch hers, Y/N turned her head and had slipped out of his grasp. Tony stumbled a bit in surprise and turned around to see Y/N smirking from behind him.

“The gentleman needs a psychiatrist

I'd rather kiss a rattlesnake.”

Y/N took her hand and made a fake gun with her fingers before putting it to her head.

“Or play Russian roulette.”

Y/N then pretended as if the gun had gone off before she turned and began to walk away and towards the bar. Tony smiled after her, the love and adoration in his eyes so evident that every person in the room could tell he was in love with the girl. Tony let out a small sigh of content and looked to the crowd and acted as if he were telling them some big secret.

“The lady loves me, but she doesn't know it yet.”

Tony walked across the room and over to the bar where Y/N was leaning against the counter. She didn’t bother looking at him, but Tony knew that she knew he was there by the way she tensed up ever so slightly and the small pink dusting her cheeks. Tony smiled and leaned in.

“She's falling fast she's on the skids.”

Y/N looked to the bartender and held up two fingers. The man rushed off to get her drinks while Y/N willed herself not to look at the billionaire beside her. Instead, she merely rested her chin against her hand and kept her eye forward.

“Both of his heads are flipping their lids.”

Tony smirked.

“Tonight she'll hold me in her arms.”

The bartender came back and set two shots down in front of Y/N. The woman grabbed the drinks and held them up and shook them slightly as she sang, making sure not to spill them as she did.

“I'd rather be holding hydrogen bombs.”

Y/N downed one of the shots before looking back at the audience that had circled around them. She held the empty glass in the air and gave them all an exasperated look.

“Will someone tell this Romeo

I'm not his Juliet?”

Y/N then downed the other shot and set both glasses down. Tony looked to the crowd and winked at them.

“The lady loves me, but she doesn't know it yet.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and turned her body so that her back was to Tony. The man leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear and making her shiver as he sang.

“She wants me.”

Y/N faked a scowl and looked at the man.

“Like poison ivy.”

Tony just shrugged and leaned back, a smug look of his face that basically screamed that he knew what she was hiding.

“Needs me.”

Y/N shook her head and turned back around.

“Like a hole in the head.”

With her turned around, Tony quickly walked over to the other side of her before she could realize it. He was standing right in front of her now and the smile on his face was enough to make her heart beat a little faster and her cheeks to heat up.

“Everyone can see she's got it bad.”

Y/N sighed dramatically and looked to the crowd as she held her hands up in defeat.

“He’s mad!”

Her gaze fell back on Tony and sat down on the seat by her side.

“The gentleman is an egotist.”

Tony merely smirked and shrugged in response.

“I'm simply aware I'm hard to resist.”

Y/N was trying to hide her smile, but the corners of her lips twitched up slightly as she looked at the man.

“He's one man I could learn to hate.”

Tony smiled and winked at the girl making her blush.

“How's about having dinner at eight?”

Y/N shook her head slightly, but couldn’t stop the smile that was now dawning her face. She couldn’t believe this man. Tony really was something else. She looked to the ground as she stood up and quickly composed herself before looking back up at Tony with a straight face.

“I'd rather dine with Frankenstein

In a moonlight tete-a-tete.”

Tony shrugged, that smug look on his face returning.

“The lady loves me, but she doesn't know it yet.”

The two stood there for a moment in silence as Tony continued to play the tune on his guitar. With their eyes locked, Y/N couldn’t hold back the smile anymore and Tony smiled at the sight of that beautiful grin of hers on her face.

“Oh yes she loves me.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow in amusement and began to walk towards the man, making him back up as she did.

“Dig that shrinking violet.”

Tony’s eyes flickered over her before locking with her eyes.

“Oh she really loves me.”

Y/N shook her head slightly as she smiled at the man.

“Here's one gal you'll never get.”

“She lo- lo- loves me.”

Y/N smirked at the boy and gave him a questioning look.

“Would you like to make a bet?”

Tony just smiled at her in response, too caught up in admiring her that he didn’t realize he was about to bump into a waiter who was carrying a big tray of drinks.

“I said the lady loves me.”

Y/N took one more step forward causing the man to step back and run into the waiter. The tray full of drinks all slipped out of his grasp and splashed down on Tony who stopped his playing as a look of shock appeared on his face. Y/N smirked and reached over to the bar counter before picking up a napkin. She leaned forward and wiped away at Tony’s eyes so that the man could open them and look at her.

“The gentleman's all wet.”

Y/N then shoved the napkin in his chest causing Tony to reach up and grab ahold of it before watching her walk away from him. Even though he was drenched and Y/N had rejected him once again, Tony still found himself smiling after her as he watched her with eyes filled with adoration.

Tony Stark was more in love with Y/N L/N than he was before if that was even possible.

“You still think she won’t break one day?” Steve asked as he looked to Bucky. Bucky watched as Y/N walked out of the room before looking over at Tony who had a lovesick grin on his face. “Yeah, she’s gonna break,” Bucky agreed before taking a long sip of his drink making both Steve and Natasha chuckle in amusement.

Out in the hallway, Y/N continued to walk around the corner until she knew she was far from anyone’s line of sight. She then went and stood against a wall and put her hand against her beating heart as the smile on her face grew tenfold and the blush spread from her cheeks down to her neck.

It took Y/N a minute to control her breathing and calm herself before she managed to look around the corner and back into the room she had just walked out of. Just like every time she walked into a room, her eyes immediately found Tony.

He was returning the guitar to the musicians and was smiling as he said, “Thank you.” “You’re welcome. That’s one girl you’ve got,” one of the men of the band told him. Tony smiled, a look of pride and adoration on his face as he responded without a beat of hesitation, “My girl sure is something, isn’t she?”

Y/N smiled softly at those words, her stomach erupting with butterflies at the fact that Tony had called her ‘his girl.’

As if sensing her eyes on him, Tony met her gaze. She didn’t think the sparkle in his eyes could get any brighter, but as soon as he caught sight of her, she was proven wrong. He smiled at the girl and sent a small wink her direction before being pulled back into a conversation with the musicians, not noticing that his wink was enough to make her a blushing mess once again.

Y/N smiled and looked at the ground bashfully before looking back up at Tony before whispering to herself.

“The lady loves him, he just doesn’t know it yet.”

And when Tony came up later that evening, asking Y/N on a date for what had to be the hundredth time, he got a different answer than he was used to.

Yes.

[arthurmorganthings]

VOODOO

Pairing: Dutch x Anna (My OC, a WOC)

Warnings: Mentions of racial discrimination

Rating: M

Summary: A story of Dutch’s encounter with a black woman.

The truth is obsolete.

Days of the Wild West were numbered, and soon enough civilization would’ve claim victor in an outlaw’s struggle to survive. That, or working at trashy saloons in the city of Saint Denis.

Anna was merely a person that sat down and observed her surroundings. Mother was a prositute and runaway slave from the south that sought out redemption in the West. From there, she worked the saloons until her body grew numb to susceptibility of ever finding love—love was an idyllic notion meant for people that was deserving.

The poor woman never once told herself that love was not a rich man’s right, but one with four chambers—love was accessible to all. She never learned to read, or write for that matter, and found that she was pregnant by an infamous outlaw that appreciated her company. She knew the kind of man he was, white trash was one of many pet names she grew fond of calling him, but opted for his real name nonetheless.

His nickname for her was Cleopatra of the Nile. Before talk of Marriage came about, Anna’s mother grew ill and passed away from cholera just as Anna turned four. It hardened her father short after, but kept with raising Anna the best he knew how.

He settled in a small home near Bay you Nwa, of Lemoyne. For the brief moment living there Anna recalled the humid air and horrible stench that arised from the marsh. There, he taught her to read, and write in cursive. As she grew older, her father taught her to handle a gun.

In his defense, he told her soon enough she would need to learn how to defend against ruthless people she was bound to encounter. Anna simply smiled all smug, she says,

“Just don’t go all soft on me old man.”

He chuckled before nudging her side, aiming his silver revolver with beautiful carvings and a clean finish. His body in perfect form of the empty moonshine bottles.

He fired. Perfectly hitting both bottles at the end.

Just like his death that followed when she turned eighteen.

It happened so suddenly but it was bound to happen, he was a man with a price on his head. It was only a matter of time until word of him got out. And It did, oh so savagely.

His body laying out in front of her as notorious bounty hunters laughed mockingly at her, calling her a “darkie” and “mulatto” alongside other racial derogatory terms. It sickened her, but knew there was so much she could’ve done.

Currently working as a barkeep, Anna plans to save enough to move to New York. Hopefully by next year.

Anna was so caught in her own head that she didn’t realize a group of men came in ordering food, and drinks. One man with a particular sense of style snapped his fingers in front of her eyes aggressively, causing her eyes to focus on his face. His appearance was neat, and his style was smart as he began to speak.

“Excuse me madam, but we’d like a table for five please.” He comments as you stare pointedly. His entourage resembled that of a notorious gang. Knowing your boss he wouldn’t even serve men of his visage, and kept a revolver underneath the counter.

Anna’s smile was tight lipped, “this way, sir.”

Upon the walk up the wooden garnish, Anne felt his eyes burn down her spine as she kept her composure. He wore a leather holster with a gold embellish, much like her father’s years ago.

“So what, is a fine woman like you doing in a dump like this?” He spoke as the others awkwardly followed suit. It took Anna seating them to realize he’d been talking to her, though opting to take their orders and provide refreshments.

“Can I start you fellers out with something to drink?” She inquired, moving a pen from the coils of her curls, and a piece of paper from the pocket of her apron.

“We’ll all take a whiskey ma’dam.” A gruff feller with blonde hair says as she jot down the order. Her boots pivoted down the steps, excusing herself as she moved past wealthy beings from various countries. The saloon was now in full effect, men with enough riches that money can buy, flaunt their latest coattails, the working girls were too on the prowl in hopes to making money on a busy Friday night.

Anne mended the tables, bar, and kitchen. Articulate with orders, bills, and tips given to graciously by the men that were honorable enough to do so.

Oddly enough, no time at all had he left her mind. His presence exudes power in a pleasurable way Anne would soon find herself thinking about deeply.

As the demand for waiters came to a standstill, Anne went back to barkeeping. Her skillful hands, pouring drinks to glasses before serving them to empty souls none the wiser.

She was going through the motions of life. Not a goddamn plan as to what was next.

Sure she’d planned to go to New York, but what of it? Would she marry off to some rich man? How life had been treating her, it would be an amazing fantasy and a vigorous start at life.

At the tender age of twenty-four.

Though the idea of running away from her problems West, she’d need money. A lot of money.

Upon pondering her place, a shot glass filled with overbearing whiskey slide its underneath her chin. Her eyes locked onto the same man she’d served all night—now here he was, inches away from her with only a counter to separate them.

He began, quirking an eyebrow, “Penny for your thoughts?” His whole voice was enough to open conversation. He was a charming man with what could be mistakened for manipulation. His fingers grabbing onto his drink, gold rings gracing each limb.

“I ain’t got a penny to spare, not no more,” Anne spoke quietly, taking his shot she’d assume was for her to the head. Wincing at the pungent taste of whiskey on her tongue.

“Of course. The mind is an expensive thing to simply expose. Even to a stranger.”

“Or to anyone.” You mumble, the stranger lighting a cigarette while listening intently.

“You look like a good kid. You in school?”

“No. And I ain’t a kid, I’m a lady, mister.” Anna growled while cleaning some of the glasses.

He chuckles once more before inquiring, “My apologies, young lady. I don’t believe I’ve acquainted myself with you yet.”

Her hands never leaving the rag used to varnish, her eyes however, met his but only briefly. She was afraid what she’d find in them. A beat of silence followed before she replied.

“Anna. That’s all you need to know.”

Another beat of silence ensued as chatter amongst other people grew lively as the night progressed. His mouth twitched as a coin made its way to Anna.

“Dutch.” His mouth followed.

In attempts to being funny, Anna replies, “The drink or-“

“Oh, don’t you start.” He chuckles dryly as her cheekbones creased in glee.

“I’m only pokin’ fun darlin.” Her smile enough to carry Dutch to Lemonye and back. Anna placed her drink across to him gingerly as she clasped her fingers together.

“So. Dutch, a unique name.”

He scoffed, taking from the almond bowl, “Bullshit. The amount of Europeans you’ve accustomed yourself to seeing and you mean to tell me my name’s unique?”

“A lot of the Europeans think I spit in their food. No white man wants to be served by a darkie.” The conversation taking a social shift as Dutch frowned upon realization.

“You should, spit in their food.”

Your face lit up in happiness at the statement, but suddenly turning to a stoic look.

“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

He winked at her, warmly. They chat so much until Anna’s shift at the bar was over as she saunters from behind the bar.

Dutch offering her his arm respectibly, “m’lady?”

She smiles in tandem to his gesture before taking his arm with her as they exit the mahogany wooden double-doors.

“You know, people are going to raise hell. Seein’ a white man with a colored girl.”

“Let them raise hell sweetheart.” His hand dropping to her side as he drew her closer so his lips found her ear, “They could spawn the devil for all I care. It shouldn’t be a crime to enjoy the company of a beautiful girl.”

Anna’s heart swelled with happiness as she looked him in the eyes. Once fearful for what she’d find, her thoughts became clear as day as to what she’d see—lust.

Of course, how could she be so naive? A stranger sits with her the whole shift she works, creating wholesome conversations, in exchange for nothing in return? What a silly concept to uphold.

He suddenly became off-putting, but not by much. She did fancy his company after all.

Dutch walked with pride, as if he were some head honcho ready to show his Lady Luck to the world; He felt like a lucky man.

Anne gave his biceps a soft squeeze upon arrival to a tiny cabin near the slums outside of Saint Denis. The wood grew old and the roof occasionally allowed water to leak through.

It was her home nonetheless, a home no one could take away other than pesky loan sharks.

“Well, princess Anna. I believe this is your stop.”

Her smile widened as she felt his soft palms against her hands, they were surprisingly soft and well cared for.

Princess

Brought a warm sensation between her thighs. She’d imagine the same lips he used to charm his women would be used to make a mess of things between the sheets.

“I shall leave you to it th-“

“Would you like to come inside for some coffee Dutch?” Her question soon followed a subtle lip bite.

Enabling him

Like some predator being given the green light to devour his prey. There was a glint of mischief in his eyes, feigning ignorance, “If you’re offering, how could I say no, Miss Anna?”

“Please. Anna is just fine.” Anne says, side-stepping, giving Dutch ample room to enter.

The night was still young, and reckless.

As were they.

—

SMUT IN THE SECOND PART I PROMISE :) I KNOW THIS IS A LOT I LOVE MY OC ANNA SO MUCH, TRULY A HEART OF GOLD.

[wintersxsoul]

Matching Scars (5)

Summary:  “How could someone like you, love someone like me? It makes no fucking sense.“

Pairings: Loki x Reader // Steve Rogers x OFC

Warnings: Nightmares, descriptions of physical abuse, swearing, angst, eventual smut, depression, intrussive thoughts, self-harming, etc.

A/N: This is the first series I wrote at the beggining of summer. I posted it on ao3. SELF-HARMING and SELF-HATRED THOUGHTS trigger warning. Fuck you can really notice I was in a bad place when I wrote this fic ugh. 

Series masterlist

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

You looked at him with anger, lowering your hands and closing them in fists.

“What the hell do you want, twat?” You spat, turning around to pick up your stuff and leave. It was not the best time to have a fight with an asshole.

“I'm impressed that an insignificant being is capable of hitting like that.” He laughed while approaching to you.

“You want me to hit your spoiled brat face and see how capable I am?” The look on his face shifted, and for a second you could see... admiration ? What the hell. His features hardened when your fist hit his jaw in a quick movement, Loki unable to predict your punch.

In a matter of seconds, you were on the ground and Loki pinning you down, with a dagger in your neck. He lowered his head so his lips were mere inches away from your ear.

“Don't think for a second that because of who you are, I won't kill you. I will not hesitate.” He raised his head so your eyes met, you could see a glimpse of defiance.

“Even though you have the opportunity of doing so, I'm still breathing. So if that was a  threat, you failed on scaring me.” You hit his groin with your knee and as he fell on his side, holding his parts and growling in pain, you stood up, took your stuff and left. Before you closed the door, you heard him shout something, but you were anxious enough not to hear it.

You took the elevator, and since your room was in the last floor, you had time enough to overthink. Why did Loki hate you so much? You understood your hatred towards him, it was more than justified, but his? Stop thinking about that. When you spoke with Frigga about him, you really wanted to meet that man. What have you done wrong to him? Why did no one like you? You were nothing more than a liability. You did everything wrong. You could feel the tears rolling down your cheeks. That’s all you are good at, crying. You whiny bitch. NO. Stop. Thinking. That. Stop it. You started rubbing the palm of your hand, digging your nails hard. Not even your parents loved you, they prefered abandoning you. There it was, the thought you were trying to avoid so much. Ding . You were a few steps away from your room, you could do it. If they see you, they are going to make fun of you, crying again. They are going to laugh. A memory made you calm down your thoughts. “ You are not all the bad things you believe you are. You are the opposite. You are worth it. You deserve happiness, Y/N .” Frigga’s voice echoed through your head, repeating the same words on and on. You reached your doorknob, but before you could open it, you heard footsteps approaching you, and everything went black.

You woke up in your bed, with a terrible headache. You looked at your hands, bruised and bloody, and sighed. Not again, Y/N. Not again. Someone cleared their throat and you snapped your head towards the noise. Your eyes widened at the person who was sitting across the room. Loki was reading your book, and you could see the sorrow all across his features. He didn’t know you were aware of his presence, until you sat up and spoke.

“W-What are you doing here?” You asked, a little bit scared. He closed the book, set it aside and shook his head, like he was answering a question he could only hear.

“I came here to kick your ass, and saw you collapsing to the ground. So I just- I thought leaving you on the floor was not good for me.” He stuttered. Loki the God of Lies, Mischief, Chaos and the God of asses, just stuttered.

“Well, thank you, but you may leave now, unless you’re waiting to finish what you came here to do.” You huffed in response to your headache. He grinned and stood up from his seat.

“As good as that sounds, I won't take advantage of your state.” You rolled your eyes. You tried to hide your hands as his eyes looked at them, but you failed. He frowned and opened the mouth to say something, but apparently he decided not to.

“By the way, that book of yours is beautiful. My mother had the same one, we used to read it together.” You looked at him, not knowing what to say. It was Frigga’s book. She gave it to you. Her book. Why?

“Loki…” You hesitated. “It was your mother who gave me that book before she-” You shook your head, incapable of saying those words” she gave it to me as a birthday gift.” A single tear rolled down your cheek. Loki turned around and left, without saying a word.

Frigga’s burial was beautiful, it was the typical Asgardian one, and as her boat was burning, her soul rose to the night sky, next to the stars. That exact day you had another breakdown, but Anne never left your side, so you could bear it easily. You remember hugging Thor, trying to comfort the both of you. You saw Loki alone, his face unreadable, and made a move towards him. No one deserved being alone in this situation, not even him. When you were next to him, you touched his upper arm and gave it a squeeze, as a way of showing him your respects.

“She loved you so much, you know. She always spoke about her younger son with a deep fondness and with pride.” The words came out of you without you acknowledging. You looked at him so your eyes could meet with his, and you saw him shedding a tear. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. The heartless monster you thought Loki was, it was gone for a second, and instead of him you could see a scared hurt boy.

“I don’t need your pity nor your company, so leave me alone, stupid mortal.” There he was again. His façade back in place.

“My name is Y/N. And you know what? I don’t know what I’ve ever done wrong to you, but I’m tired of your bullshit. I-” Stop . You wiped a tear that escaped from your eyes and kept speaking. “I wish the Loki that Frigga told me about were here instead of this pathetic excuse of a person. You don’t even know me and still you treat me like trash.” You managed to tell him in a calmed tone. You could tell that to yourself, you didn’t need anyone else telling you. His face was stern, but his eyes were softening.

“If you are done throwing your temper tantrum, I would rather be alone.” He turned and left.

Tag list is OPEN.

@trashpandabarnes @sideeffectsofyou @madamefresa @lilypalmer1987 @gravedollie666 @sarahivi  @gummiwormsandonedirection​

[i-w-p-chan]

Time to Put on Your Uniform (And Accidentally Snag a Boyfriend), Part 1

Summary: Akira gets a ‘girlfriend’ and the Thieves try to Deal.

Note: Sometimes the shuake server has interesting conversations like one that involved crossdressing. And this happened.

Warnings: Very Self-Indulgent, SUPPOSED To Be A Trash Fic But I Dunno Now, Crossdressing, Excessive Description Of Clothes, Longer Than It Deserves, Akira Comes Off As An Asshole At A Couple Of Points Without Context, Brief Appearance By DayumThoseLegs.

Disclaimer: Don’t own P5.

.

“Um, excuse me.” A soft voice called out, and Ryuji and Akira turned to see who stood behind them, only to be shocked at the sight of a Shujin student a year ahead of them. She had brown hair that tumbled down to her shoulders and reddish brown eyes set in a gentle looking face, she wore the standard Shujin uniform but with the sweater instead of the blazer, and dark thigh highs.

And man, she was tall. Well, she was taller than both Ryuji and Akira, helped along with an extra inch from her shoes.

Akira merely cocked his head to the side, and Ryuji took a step forward to confront the girl, easily stepping in between her and Akira; the whole school (outside Ryuji, Ann, and Mishima) had it out for Akira, so what would a third year student want with them? And what would it cause her to approach them out of school after classes ended for the day and the students had already dispersed to go wherever the hell they went to after school?

“What do you want?” Ryuji frowned at her and she responded with a saccharine sweet smile.

“Oh, I wanted to ask Kurusu-kun something.”

“And what is it?”

“It doesn’t have anything to do with you, Sakamoto, so you can step aside. I’m here to talk to Kurusu-kun in regards to his probation.” The girl blatantly side-stepped Ryuji to step closer to Akira and bow her head, “My name is Kobayashi Mitsuki and I’ve heard of your probation. It makes me curious, and I have a feeling there is more to it than meets the eye. If you’d indulge me and exchange contact information so that we can discuss this matter further.” She took out her phone and stared expectantly at Akira until Akira caved in under the weight of her stare and gave her his number.

She smiled at him and bade him farewell before she walked away, gait imposing and basically carving her way through the crowd.

“What the hell was that about?” Ryuji scowled at the girl’s back, and Morgana popped his head through an opening in Akira’s bag.

“Whatever it is that she wants, we should have her off our backs; it wouldn’t do to have her sniffing around and finding some incriminating evidence against us.”

“Hey.” Ryuji lowered his voice, “Do you think miss Prez sent her?”

Akira hummed in consideration, “Kobayashi is certainly as obvious in trying to sniff information about us as Niijima is, but I don’t think so.”

“So, you think Kobayashi has her own agenda?” Morgana questioned.

“That’s for sure.”

“Well.” Ryuji grinned widely with too much teeth, “If she asks you for a meet-up you know I’ll be there to keep an eye out, right?”

“And Lady Ann and Yusuke,” Morgana interjected, “We need to tell them as well so that they could keep an eye out for Kobayashi.”

Akira nodded, “And we’ll discuss this matter further later, when we’re somewhere more private.”

.

“A date?” Ann frowned down at Ryuji, who was crouched behind a corner and observing both Kobayashi and Akira, who were sitting at an outside table at a café.

“Akira didn’t say that it was a date though,” Ryuji whispered, narrowing his eyes at Kobayashi, who was practically beaming at Akira.

“Did you get a chance to see what the messages Kobayashi sent to our leader entailed, Morgana?” Yusuke inquired.

Morgana shook his head, “No, I didn’t. Unfortunately, I didn’t pay the messages a lot of attention at the time because he’d been messaging Mishima before he told me about the meet-ups. So I assume she messaged him right after and I didn’t notice. Akira didn’t seem to react.”

“Well, it’s not like Akira outwardly reacts to a lot of things in the first place.” Ryuji shrugged.

“I know!” Morgana whined, “But one would think something like a shady meeting would… Wait never mind, it wouldn’t.” Morgana sighed.

“It’s okay, Morgana.” Ann ran a comforting hand down Morgana’s back, “It’s not like you knew you had to keep constant watch on Akira. Besides, he’s our friend, and the reason we’re doing this is because we’re worried about him and wary of Kobayashi, not because we want to keep Akira under surveillance.”

Yusuke nodded, “That’s not a misunderstanding we want to happen between us and Akira. So we’ll merely keep observing from a distance just in case Akira needs back-up.”

Morgana’s shoulders sagged, “Thanks Lady Ann, Yusuke.”

“But if they’re not going on a date, why is Kobayashi dressed like it?” Ryuji wondered.

As one, the other three turned their attention to the duo sitting a few meters away and focused on Kobayashi; as Ryuji said, she was dressed like she was going on a date- make-up on point, hair curled, bracelets adorning her hands, with a cute, pink dress dotted with hearts at the shoulders, white tights, and pink high-heels decorated with ribbons.

“She’s certainly all dolled up for this,” Ann murmured.

“Time to implement our plan to listen in,” Yusuke said, and Ryuji gave him a thumbs up before getting his phone out and muting it, and then Ann took out her own phone and called Ryuji’s while Yusuke brought out a belt from his bag. Ryuji answered the call, and he and Yusuke busied themselves with securing the phone to Morgana’s body using the belt.

“Ready?” Ryuji whispered, and Morgana’s eyes glinted mischievously back at him, causing him to grin widely.

“I was born ready.”

Ann muffled a snicker behind her hand, “Phantom Thieves, go~”

With that, Morgana sneakily made his way to the pair and hid in the shade of a bush conveniently situated behind Akira’s seat.

At their hiding spot, the rest of the Thieves huddled around Ann’s phone and attentively listened to what they could hear filtering through the speaker, volume cranked up high enough so that they could hear but not too loud to attract more attention that they did.

“Once more, I’m glad you could come and meet me.” Kobayashi’s voice came through the speaker, and the Thieves bumped their fists in the air before they continued listening while peeking from their hiding spot to catch the visual cues of the conversation.

Akira shrugged, “You sounded like you were going to insist anyway.”

Kobayashi smiled demurely and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she readjusted her posture to something more elegant and refined. “You’re embarrassing me, Kurusu-kun. Now, as for what I wanted to talk to you about-“

“You’re tall,” Akira interrupted her, and the Thieves shared a quick look; that was certainly more high-key than they expected from Akira, “You shouldn’t be wearing such high heels. One inch heels are already pushing it, flats are your best choice.”

Silence.

Ann’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets, and she gaped, “He said what?” She hissed. Even Ryuji looked alarmed.

“That’s…” Yusuke was stunned, “That’s… I don’t think I…”

Kobayashi looked two seconds away from flipping the table in Akira’s face, “Excuse yo-!”

Akira interrupted her again, “You want to blend in, your choice in attire says so. But you’re tall, and adding to that height with high heels only attracts attention, and attention means someone with a good eye could pinpoint more details about your appearance. That’s not what you want, right? That’s why you approached me the way you did the other day. And there is a reason why you haven’t approached me before even though I’ve been attending Shujin for more than two months already.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard him say this much in one go before.” Ann breathed out in shock.

Kobayashi’s eyes had been widening with very word Akira had said, and she put a hand to her mouth and then ducked her head. The Thieves observed in worry, wondering how she was going to react.

The Thieves were once again surprised when Kobayashi threw her head back and chuckled heartily, even Akira seemed stunned momentarily.

Kobayashi looked back at Akira with a smirk on her face, “You surprise me yet again, Kurusu-kun. Who would have thought you’d see through me so easily? But ah… this type of advice. You’ve done this before, haven’t you? Frequently enough to know what to look out for?”

Akira merely shrugged in response.

Kobayashi coughed into her hand, genuine amusement still seeming to radiate off of her, “That means you won’t be opposed to future meetings?”

“What you wanted to talk to me about was-“

“Your probation.” Kobayashi leaned forward with her chin propped on the back of her hand, “I couldn’t resist looking, and found some interesting tidbits.”

“I don’t think there are any details to be of use.”

“Oh, but that in and of itself is quite telling. And that is what I want to talk to you about.”

.

The Thieves quietly retreated from their hiding spot along with Morgana who had rejoined them when Kobayashi continued to discuss Akira’s probation with him and the duo’s conversation headed into more professional and serious territories, and headed for a different corner to discuss the situation.

“What do you think?” Ann started, and Morgana frowned.

“There is something about that Kobayashi, more than we first expected. She’s truly interested in discussing Akira’s probation with him.”

“She knows quite a lot,” Yusuke mused, “I assume the details we heard her say aren’t ones just anyone could find without access to the files or hearing about the story from one of the involved parties.”

“So you think she’s involved with the police like that Akechi?” Ryuji scratched his head, “Come to think of it, she actually looks like him, doesn’t she?”

Ann’s eyes widened, “You’re right. The hair, eyes, and general appearance do resemble Akechi’s.”

“You think she’s his sister?” Morgana asked.

“Hmm.” Yusuke cocked his head to the side, “How much information do you think is available online and is there a way to confirm this hypothesis?”

“But man, the sister of someone that famous?” Ryuji looked thoughtful, “She’d want to hide, wouldn’t she? Maybe that’s why she’s dressed up like this?”

“You think Akira knew?” Ann cocked her hip to the side, propping a fist on it, “The conversation would make more sense then, wouldn’t it?”

“You think she heard about Akira from Akechi?” Morgana cocked his head to the side, “Akechi did seem like he was interested in Akira; he approached him at the train station more than once already to make small talk of all things.”

“Wouldn’t someone like him be too busy to make such a detour? And for small talk no less?” Yusuke interjected.

“Maybe Kobayashi is just looking out for her brother?” Ann suggested.

“Why would they have different surnames though?”

“Divorced parents?” Ryuji awkwardly shrugged, “Or maybe to stay under the radar?”

“You have a point.” Morgana’s tail swished behind him as he appeared to be deep in thought.

“Well then.” Yusuke straightened from his spot leaning against the wall, “All we have left is to wait for Akira to be done and then tell him.”

“Alright.” The rest chorused.

.

When Akira finally parted ways with Kobayashi, the rest of the Thieves were understandably waiting for him, not that he seemed surprised with their presence.

“So, how did it go?” Ann was the first to reach him, grasping his arm in a very tight hold.

“I’d say it went well,” Akira responded, looking worriedly down at where Ann was clutching him, “There could have been more embarrassment and potential blackmail threats involved but thankfully… Kobayashi was more understanding than I expected.”

“And that means?” Morgana prompted.

“We’re going to meet up again to continue the discussion,” Akira said and Morgana sighed.

“You know, I’m not even surprised at this point.”

Ryuji snickered and Yusuke chuckled.

“That’s great and all.” Ann smiled sweetly at him, “But we need to have a long, serious talk about tall girls in high heels. I raised you better than that.” She practically hissed, her eyes narrowing at him as they metaphorically spat out lava.

Akira raised a hand defensively, “I know!” He looked like he wanted to bolt but still held his grounds, “Tall girls in high heels are goddesses, tall girls get to wear high heels if they want to! I just-“

“Hmm?” Ann’s hold tightened, “Go on.”

“Really needed to tell Kobayashi about wearing heels and visibility...”

“That’s what you said about being noticed?” Ann’s hold eased up only slightly.

“Yes!” Akira nodded frantically, “Kobayashi really wanted to lay low; noticeable height would be counter-productive!”

Ann let him go, “Alright. I’ll let this one go.”

Akira sighed in relief.

“But don’t think I will a second time.”

Akira stiffened.

.

Next

[sebspocketsquare]

Little Do You Know: 5

Pairing: TJ Hammond x fem!Reader

Story Summary: Soulmate AU. On your 21st birthday, you begin to hear the innermost thoughts of your soulmate. What will happen when your soulmate just so happens to be a drug addict struggling to recover? Did I mention that he may or may not be incredibly gay?

Warnings: bi!TJ, language, angst, feels, fluff, TJ being REALLY dreamy, Elaine being a bully, I think that’s it.

A/N: Here’s part 5 for you guys. I hope you enjoy it, and of course, there will be another part after this, it’ll be my Christmas present to you. 💖

“What?” You blink repeatedly, trying to process what TJ had just said. “My mom wants to have you over for Thanksgiving dinner.” He repeats, a lazy smile on his lips. You take in a deep breath, chewing the inside of your cheek. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” You ask, and his face falls. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t it be?” You shrug, standing up from where you’re sitting on his couch. “I don’t really feel like being murdered by your mother, Teej… Especially on a holiday.” You tell him, earning a loud laugh. “My mom won’t hurt you, babe.. She just wants to officially meet you.” You rake your hand through your hair, forcing a small smile. “Do you promise not to leave me alone with her?” He chuckles again, standing and taking your hands in his, resting his forehead against yours. ‘She’s going to love you. As I do.’ His voice rings in your mind and you push out a shaky breath, your cheeks turning a light shade of pink. ‘I love you, too.’

TJ informs you that dinner will take place that evening, and that he’s also got a surprise for you. “C’mere.” He beckons you to follow him into his bedroom, and you cooperate, trailing behind him slowly. When you reach his bedroom, he heads into his closet, shuffling around for a moment before he comes back out, a beautiful dark red dress on a hanger in one hand and a pair of matching shoes in the other. Your mouth falls open slightly, eyes widening. “Teej.. You.. You didn’t have to do that..” You whisper as he comes closer, looking down at the dress before holding it out to you. “I know.. but I wanted to.” He says softly, watching carefully as you take the soft fabric from his hands. You run your fingers over it, sighing softly at the feeling. Velvet. “Why.. Why, Teej..? This was probably more than I make in a week.” He shrugs nonchalantly, a smirk on his lips. “I like spoiling you.” Your heart flutters when he reaches out to run his fingertips down your neck slowly.

“Get changed. I’ll wait in the living room.” He tells you before you can argue with him, knowing that you will, given the chance. He winks at you as he exits the room, pulling the door shut behind him. You let out a long, shaky breath once you’re finally alone. ‘Just put the fucking dress on. Pull yourself together.’ You hear his laughter from the other room and your cheeks flush in embarrassment. ‘I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to you being inside my head at all times.’ You let out an audible chuckle at yourself as you strip down, taking a quick look at yourself in TJ’s vanity mirror before grabbing the dress and slipping it on. You’re almost sure it won’t fit, but you’re surprised to find that it fits like a glove, hugging your body in all the right places. When you look at your reflection again, you’re in awe. “Holy hell..” You turn in circles, studying your frame from all angles before the reality sets in that you look fucking good. You don’t even realize how long you’ve been studying yourself when a light knock comes from the bedroom door. “You about ready, babe? Mom’s called twice already..” His voice is muffled, but you can still hear irritation in his tone. “Y-Yeah, I’ll be out in just a minute!” You called out, fluffing up your hair before slipping on your shoes and straightening out your dress. “You can do this..” You spoke softly, before taking a deep breath and walking out of his bedroom, nervous to see his reaction.

He turns to look at you and the butterflies in your stomach multiply by three. His eyes slowly rake up and down your body, his lips twitching in the corner when his eyes land on yours. “You look beautiful..” he breathes, making his way towards you, not even bothering to hide the fact that he can’t keep his eyes off of you. When he finally comes to a stop mere inches from you, he brings his hand up to trace over the exposed skin on your arm, his smile growing when you shiver under his touch. “Absolutely stunning.” He murmurs, dropping his head to press a soft kiss to your temple and lingering there for a moment. “Baby.. you’re shaking.” He whispers, both of his hands resting on your back as he pulls you against his chest. He’s so warm and inviting, you can’t help but melt against him. “Nervous..” you mumble into his chest, earning a chuckle from him. “I know.. it’s going to be okay, I promise. They’ll be on their best behavior… and if not..” he pauses, licking his lips with a shrug. “We can leave. I swear.” You look up from your hiding spot with a small pout. “And you’ll keep your father away from me..?” He lets out a loud laugh at this before he nods reassuringly. “He won’t lay a hand on you, you have my word.”

Arriving at the Hammond residence does nothing to calm your anxiety. It’s much bigger than you’re expecting, and there’s what seems like an army of fancy, expensive cars parked in the long, elaborate driveway. TJ senses your ever-growing nerves and rests his hand on your thigh, rubbing soothing circles into the fabric of your dress. “Deep breaths, baby.. they’re going to love you.”

TJ doesn’t bother knocking when you reach the front door, just walks right in, tugging you behind him. “TJ? Is that you?” You hear a woman call the moment the door closes behind you. “Yeah, mom.” He yells in reply, before looking over to you, his eyebrow cocked. ‘Don’t let her intimidate you.’ You lick your lips and nod slightly, forcing a small smile. “It’s about time!” You hear her shuffling across the floor and try to mentally prepare yourself to meet her. ‘You can do this. It’ll be easy. Just smile. Be charming.’ TJ snickers beside you and it takes everything in you not to smack him for it. When his mom rounds the corner into the foyer, your heart jumps into your throat.

You can see why people find her intimidating, now. Her eyes narrow as soon as they see the spot where your hand is connected to TJ’s and you reflexively release him. “You were supposed to be here over an hour ago.” She says through gritted teeth, her eyes finally meeting his. They stare at each other for a few moments in silence before she pulls him in for a tight hug. He tentatively wraps his arms around her, too, and a genuine smile lights up her face. “Thank you for coming.” She whispers, emotion evident in her voice. You suddenly feel as if you’re intruding on an intimate moment and avert your gaze, the stitching in your shoes suddenly becoming incredibly interesting. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, mom..” You hear him whisper in return and your heart swells.

It suddenly dawns on his mother that you’re standing there, too, and she pulls back, clearing her throat and returning to her statuesque self. “You must be Y/N.. TJ’s soulmate.” She states, holding her hand out for you to take. You do so, nodding slowly. “It’s a pleasure, Ms. Barrish.” You manage to squeak, her grip on your hand a bit tighter than you were comfortable with. “Please, call me Elaine. The pleasure’s all mine.” She flashes you a smile and releases your hand, turning to her son. “Dinners ready. We were waiting for you. Come.” She grabs his forearm and leads him through the house, leaving you to trail behind. TJ looks over his shoulder at you, mouthing ‘sorry’ with a shrug. You nod, ‘She’s just happy to see you. It’s okay.’ You weren’t sure if that’s really how you felt about the situation.

Dinner seems to go off without a hitch. Aside from being introduced to everyone, nobody really speaks to you directly. The majority of the conversation is being steered by TJ’s father, Bud, who seems to be doing his best to irritate Elaine. It’s working. “Dad, why don’t you help me clear the table, hm?” Dougie eventually asks, cutting off a snarky comment from his mother. If looks could kill, Dougie would have daggers in his head. “Well, why not.” Bud replies, standing up with an accomplished smile on his face. “I am a gentleman after all.” He throws you a wink and you immediately look down at the table, trying to hide your embarrassment. TJ stands up almost immediately, taking yours and his plates in hand. “I’ll help you.” He offers, though you can tell it’s through gritted teeth.

Soon, Anne and TJ’s grandmother also dismiss themselves from the table, leaving you alone with Elaine. You try your best not to stare. “Tell me, Y/N.. how did you meet my son?” She asks, staring down at you from the head of the table. “Well, um.. it’s a funny story actually.. I went to one of your fundraisers with a friend and.. there he was.” You tell her, an awkward chuckle coming out. You look up to find that her expression hasn’t changed - but she doesn’t look amused. “And you love him?” She asks, cocking an eyebrow. “We.. we’re soulmates..” you reply, eyes wide. “That doesn’t answer my question.” She points out, taking a small sip of her drink. “Do you love him?” She asks once more, putting more emphasis on each word. “I do.” Your answer is firm. “You know he can’t love you back, don’t you?” Her eyes are locked on yours and you feel your heart sink into your stomach.

“But, we-“ She cuts you off before you can even finish. “I know you love him. I know a lie when I hear one, and you, my dear, are telling the truth, but..” She pauses to take another sip of her wine. “You are too soft for him. You won’t be able to give him the stability he needs. He’ll realize that soon enough.. but you’re a nice girl, I’ll give you that.” You’re left speechless by her words, blinking repeatedly to keep tears from escaping your eyes. “I-I love him. He’s my soulmate, and I am his. I was made for him. So I’m sure that I was given the capability to be whatever it is that he needs.” She shakes her head, a soft smile on her lips. “You’re willing to fight for him, too.. that’s good. I like that about you..” She pauses, meeting your eyes once more. “But it won’t be enough. Thomas won’t love you.” “But he does!” You tell her, feeling more tears well up in your eyes at her words. “Does he? Has he ever told you that?” She asks, tilting her head the slightest bit. “Out loud?” You’re silent for a minute, trying to recall all of your interactions with TJ for the past few months. Had he ever said he loves you to your face? You couldn’t think of a single time. “That’s what I thought.” Elaine’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts. “Do yourself a favor, honey, and get out before you get much more attached to him.”

You open your mouth to reply, to tell her that you aren’t going anywhere, when Anne comes back into the room. Her eyes immediately dart to your face, which you’re sure is red with embarrassment. “Is everything alright?” She asks, looking back and forth between you and Elaine. “Everything’s fine, dear.” Elaine tells her with a sweet smile, but you can no longer hold your tongue. You stand slowly, forcing your best smile as you look at Elaine. “I love him. I don’t care what you think, I love him. And I’d like to think that he feels the same way about me.” A few tears have managed to sneak down your cheeks and you wipe them away quickly. “I don’t know what kind of person tries to get rid of their child’s soulmate, but I won’t play your game.” By this point, Dougie and Bud have returned to the room, hearing your voice raised. “TJ and I are meant for each other. You know that. It may not be easy all the time, but I’m damn sure it’ll be worth it.” The smile you’re wearing is genuine at this point, and you let out a small laugh. “And if you don’t like it, Elaine, then by all means, you can kiss my a—“ Your sentence is cut off by a hand over your mouth. Turning slightly, you see TJ standing there, a large grin on his lips. ‘As much as I’d love to see the outcome of this, maybe we should go.’ His voice sounds in your mind as he nuzzles your cheek before pressing a kiss there. His hand drops from your mouth, giving you room to nod in reply. “Let’s go.” He whispers to you, taking your hand in his own. “Mother.” He speaks, voice void of any emotion. “Thank you for a wonderful dinner.” Sarcasm seeps into his tone, but Elaine seems too stunned to care. She just keeps staring at you. She doesn’t even try to stop you as you leave.

When you’re in the car and on your way back to normal life, TJ looks over at you with a grin. “I can’t believe you almost told my mother to kiss your ass.” You cross your arms over your chest with a huff. “Well.. She started it.” He lets out a loud laugh at your defense, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “You’re too cute for your own good.” He muses, taking a slow right turn to get onto the highway. “Where are we going?” You ask him, brow furrowing when you realize you’re not going towards your apartment. “Well, I just.. I thought maybe you’d want to hang out with me for awhile.. we could watch Christmas movies, eat popcorn.. maybe cuddle a little?” He presses his elbow into your side gently, coaxing a giggle from your lips. “Alright, alright.. But I can’t stay all night.” You try to give him your best stern face, but he doesn’t buy it. “If you say so, babe.”

tags; (Sorry if i missed anyone! And let me know if you’d like to be tagged in the Christmas chapter!!) @plumfondler @mindingmyownbusiness @fuckythebuckybarnes @sebbyyystan @supersoldierslover @coveredamity @blackcaptainrogers @thewinterbro @bluedahlia87 @dianelogan @breenieweenie @buckyshattergirl