#I also think she’d use her lord title as way to get out of guys flirting with her

[purplecherries]

I would have loved Leona to be Zane’s biological child.

I would love to see her freak out because she’s lived in a farm her whole life and now she finds out her father is a war criminal and tyrant.

I would have loved to have her be the next lord of O’khasis and everyone scrambling to try and make sure she’s not a Zane Ro’meave 2.

I would have loved to see Leona try to ask anyone and everyone about Zane only to be brushed off.

I would have loved to see Leona cry about having to live up to impossible expectations all because her father was monster.

I would love for Leona to realize she laughs like her father because of the terrified looks she gets when she does laugh.

I would love for Kiki to talk about when she met Zane and how he was a “real charmer.” And for Zianna to talk about when he was younger.

I would love to see Lilith and Alina watch her have her “Lady transformation” and they don’t recognize her at first. Leona still volunteering to babysit because it reminds her of her old life before she started training for lordship.

I would love to see Leona pretend she doesn’t like Yip because she knows it won’t work and she has a enough weight on her shoulders already.

I would love to see Zianna discourage her from learning about Esmund or Irene even though she’s a devout follower.

I would love for Leona to wonder if her father really did plan for her to exist and be an heir or was she just a side effect and a lucky preservation of the Ro’meave line??

LEONA WOULD JUST BE A PERFECT ADDITION TO THE NEXT GENERATION WITH LEVIN, MALACHI, ALEXIS, KYLE, YIP, LILTH, AND ALINA

[morganaspendragonss]

don't know what i'm supposed to do

kind of short and (bitter)sweet, but i hope you guys like it!

title from the night we met by lord huron

ao3 | 733 words | 3.03 coda, sad carlos, discussion of religion

Carlos doesn’t make it to fresh air.

He barely even makes it past the double doors of the ICU before the cord tying him to TK’s room pulls tight, threatening to suffocate him if he takes one more step. He can’t do this. He doesn’t know how to do this.

Carlos has never been good at letting people go.

He sinks down into the closest chair, gaze staring into nothing, and tries to imagine a world without TK Strand. Maybe it should be easy; it wasn’t so long ago that Carlos hadn’t even known TK existed, and they’ve been successfully avoiding each other for months.

But there’s a difference between Carlos’s world without TK Strand, and the world without TK Strand. He can barely survive the former; the latter, he knows, would wreck him.

His hands twitch in his lap, nervous energy rising up to choke him. He can’t control them as they jerk, first clenching into fists before flattening on his thighs; he grabs the corner of his jacket and tugs on it, then squeezes them together until it hurts, nails biting into his palms. The frenetic movement does nothing to calm him, and Carlos can feel a panic attack building in his chest, but he also can’t stop, lest he explode.

He wants to scream, but he’s still in the hospital so he cries instead, silent, heaving sobs working their way out of him until he’s doubled over in his chair. His chest burns from lack of oxygen and his vision blurs in and out of focus, and still—and still—all he can see is TK on that damn ventilator, TK’s body being manipulated by the doctors, TK’s heart stopping and TK dying, dying, dead.

All he can hear is incessant beeping, and he doesn’t know whether they’re coming from the rooms surrounding him or if they’re just in his head. Maybe both, because they overlap, getting louder and louder, and he’s pressing his hands to his ears but it’s still there, and maybe he does scream now, but he doesn’t know, he—

“—ir? Sir? Can you hear me? Can you look up at me, sir?”

Warm hands take Carlos’s and pull them away from his head. It takes a while; he doesn’t fight, exactly, but his muscles are all locked up, and he can’t even think about relaxing them.

Carlos blinks at the woman crouched in front of him, at her blue scrubs and her sympathetic face, and his chest seizes again.

“No,” he mumbles, shaking his head violently. “No, no, no. He’s not dead, he can’t be dead, please don’t tell me that he’s dead.”

A flicker of a frown crosses the nurse’s face, but it clears quickly, a gentle smile taking its place. “Honey, no. Whoever you’re here for, I’m sure he’s just fine.”

“He’s dying. They just told us.”

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that. But, listen,” she says, patting his knee. “I’ve been a nurse at this hospital for a while now and I still get surprised by the resilience of the human body. Don’t lose hope, sweetheart.”

Carlos doesn’t laugh in her face, but it’s a near thing. Any hope he had left to lose got beaten out of him five minutes ago with just two simple words from the doctor’s mouth.

“It can.”

It can, meaning it won’t. Meaning, more than likely, TK is going to die.

The nurse must note his scepticism, as she squeezes the hand still on his knees and smiles kindly. “Have faith.”

Then she’s called away, and Carlos is left alone. Almost unconsciously, he raises his hand to the chain hanging around his neck, pulling it out of his shirt and staring at the silver cross in his palm. He hasn’t worn anything like this in years, not since he stopped going to church, and he’s not sure why he’s wearing it now. It had been an impulse decision, something pulling him to grab it from his dresser.

The one he’d had since he was a kid had been lost in the fire, and he hadn’t exactly intended on replacing it.

But then his mother had pressed this into his hand, smiling sadly and reaching up to stroke his cheek.

“Ten fe, mijo,” she’d said. “Everything will be okay.”

Carlos looks up, and there, right in front of him—the sign pointing to the chapel.

Faith.

Maybe it’s worth a shot.

[scarlettscribbles]

she used to be mine

- Anthony Bridgerton & TwinSister!Reader

Tags: 4k words - 3rd person POV, sibling fluff, family fluff, Anthony/Siena (not the main focus), Anthony is a soft boi when it comes to you (the softest, in fact), mourning

Warning/s: a bit spicy at the beginning, mild injury, mention of blood, major character death

Summary: A question from Siena about love sends Anthony into the past; making him recall his memories of a sister long loved, but never forgotten. A story told in moments. 

a/n: don’t mind me, just manifesting my angst and bridgerton needs >> titles from waitress the musical

i. it’s not simple to say

“What do you think about love?” 

“Love? What’s this all of a sudden?” Anthony laughed. He captured between his hands Siena’s own and kissed it playfully, making her giggle. “What do I think about it, well. I love kissing you, touching you-” he planted a soft kiss on her collarbone as his hands trailed down her abdomen. “I love--”

“Okay, no stop. That is not what I meant at all!” Siena stilled his wandering hands, laughing. She snuggled closer until they were chest to chest. “Love with your friends, family,...women.” she waggled her brows at the last word.

“Women, hah.” Anthony cast his eyes upward. “The only women I’ve ever loved are my mother and five sisters.”

“You mean four.”

“What?”

“You have four sisters: Daphne, Eloise, Francesca, and Hyacinth if memory serves correctly. Unless your mother’s pregnant, which I believe is unlikely. My lord, did you perhaps miscount?” Siena teased. 

“No, no.” he waved his hand, chuckling. “She…”

ii. i still remember that girl

She was born 9 minutes before him; the eldest Bridgerton. This was a fact she liked lording over him teasingly. She won many arguments by simply stating “I am the eldest Bridgerton and therefore…” 

Sometimes he could still hear her say it in his head. 

“Remind me why I’m accompanying you again?”

“Because I am your older sister and--”

“I should always agree to what you’re saying, blah blah. Oh this is so crowded! Why could you not just send a maid to fetch the book?”

“Well what’s the fun in that? Come on Tony, you’re being too slow! It will be nighttime when we arrive there and the book I wanted will be gone!” she moaned miserably, turning around and tugging on his hand to encourage him to make haste.

“You and your dramatics. Why is this book so important anyway?”

“It simply is. I need it for when I become the Viscountess.” she smiled at him, chin jutting out proudly. “I can’t wait to get Papa’s watch. I will get it right, as Viscountess? He will pass it onto me along with the title.”

“Uh no he won’t. I am the heir in case you have forgotten, sister.”

“But I am the oldest. We might be both 10 but I am 9 minutes older than you.” she argued, waving her pointer finger at him. 

“Yes, yes you’ve said that like a million times now! But you’re a girl, so you can’t. You shall marry some guy, not that there are any worth marrying. Why just the today I saw the son of that family I cannot remember for the life of me, doing something horrendous! I think it would be better for you to stay away from any and all men.” Anthony paused, realizing that he was - or is soon going to be - one of those men. “Except for me and Papa, of course.”

She merely looked at him in amusement. “Pish posh.” his twin huffed, eyes glinting in the sunlight. “I’m not going to exchange my ambitions for some mere man. You shall see Tony, I will have that watch. Now come on!” she dropped his hand and gathered her skirts, ducking and maneuvering between the throng of people. Anthony felt a tinge of panic, seeing his sister slowly becoming engulfed by the crowd. 

“Sister wait!” he started to chase after her. He saw the blue tail-end of her skirt when someone bumped into him. He whirled around to complain to whoever it was; however, he seemed to have miscalculated the strength of his spin and tripped, landing on his bottom. “Ow, hey watch it!” he shouted at the people who accidentally kicked him, not noticing his figure on the ground.

Anthony hissed as he dusted his pants. He examined the palm of his hand and noticed scratches from when he landed too roughly on the floor. There were spots of red slowly making its way down his hand, along with drops of water.

Oh. He was crying. 

“Where are you?” his voice warbled. “Sister…”

Has she left him, truly? Surely not. His twin is many things but never cruel. She was tenacious, smart, and…

“Tony! I let you out of my sight for a second and - goodness!” She ran over and knelt in front of him, glaring at the people who would come too close. They parted for her, giving them a wide berth. “Here, take my handkerchief. We should get home and wash your hands. We don’t want it to be infected. And your clothes are a mess, Mama is going to have a fit. Come now,”

“But your book?” he sniffed.

“Eh, I can get it some other time.” she smiled and patted his cheeks. “Don’t cry now, sister’s got you.”

...kind. She was kind.  

iii. reckless just enough

Anthony was sulking. Not that he’d let anyone know. Papa had gotten angry with him. It wasn’t even a big thing. He simply...borrowed his watch to look at it. Anthony thought maybe he could figure out what made his twin so interested in it. It was a plain thing, nothing special maybe besides the monogram. He didn’t mean to drop it from the stairs. He really didn’t. He heard his name being called for lunch and he jolted.

He got a dressing down from Papa with his siblings present; Benedict and Colin in particular snickering at his plight. It was embarrassing. As soon as Papa dismissed him, he ran for his room, ignoring the calls of his twin. 

Right now he was hidden beneath the curtains and behind his bookshelf. Did Papa really have to scold him at the lunch table? Anthony buried his face between his hands. 

“You didn’t eat.”

Anthony banged his head on the wall when he looked up too fast.

“Are you okay?” his twin asked him, smiling amusedly. She carried with her a plate with bread, cheese, ham and a slice of blueberry pie. 

“Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re smiling.”

“Laughing and smiling are worlds apart, Tony.” she shook her head and sat beside him, nudging him insistently until they were shoulder to shoulder. She slid the plate from her lap to his. “Eat.”

Anthony looked at her blankly. “Are you so distraught that you cannot eat? Do you want me to hand feed you like a child?” She made a motion as if she was going to grab the plate but Anthony shooed her hands away.

“I’m perfectly capable, thank you.” he stuffed a piece of bread in his mouth. “How’d you find me anyway?”

“Please swallow before you talk.” she said. “And, this is your room Tony. I’m simply using common sense.”

“Oh.”

“Yes.”

Anthony picked up the ham and cheese and continued eating. For a moment, they just sat there in comfortable silence.

“It’s unfair.” Anthony said, breaking the silence. 

“What is?”

“Papa.”

“How come?”

“He was way too angry. I didn’t mean to drop his watch! And it wasn’t even broken. If it was, he could’ve repaired it easily.” he pouted.

“You could’ve also just asked him to look at it. You know, in his room. Where you can’t drop it from a height and possibly damage it.” she replied with a bit of sarcasm.

“Fine, yes, I could have.” he conceded. “I just don’t know why he was so angry.”

“It’s important to him.”

“It’s just a watch.” Anthony rebutted, pouting. His twin gave him a look that he knew meant “you look adorable but also stupid.”

“Nah.”

“No?”

“Nope.” she answered. “For one, it’s an heirloom. Heirloom is defined as -”

“I know what it means.” Anthony waved his hand. “Do go on.”

She gave him a faintly annoyed look which merely made him smirk. “I shall, and not because you told me to.” she cleared her throat. “The watch being an heirloom is just its value as a thing. There’s also the sentimental value. The memories and emotions attached to the watch. For Papa, he treasures it because it - probably - reminds him of grandfather and grandmother. Grandfather especially. Because he was the one to give the Papa the rights and responsibility for our family.”

“Is that why?”

“Why what?”

“I wanted to know what makes it so special for you.” Anthony shrugged. “You always talk about it, about getting the watch when we become older. I didn’t see the big deal. Is that why it’s so important to you too?”

“Yes, quite.” she answered. “I want to take care of our family, Tony. I know I can, I just do. I don’t want me to just be a wife. I’m meant for greater things. Also,” she grinned at him. “I want it so I could count down the seconds until I see you again.” 

Anthony fake gagged, pretending to chuck the bread and cheese onto his twins’ lap. His twin scrambled away far from him and yelped. “You are disgusting! Mama! Anthony ruined the new dress that we just got!”

“I did not!”

“You were about to!”

iv. i was never attention’s sweet center

It was just a stupid, off-hand comment from Benedict. Anthony knew his brother meant no harm but still, the comment hurt.

“Maybe she truly should have your title, brother.”

Anthony was no stranger to her loud and obvious wanting to inherit the head of the house. In fact, he supported his twin. If Papa permitted it, he would gladly concede to you. However, it was unspoken between the twins the knowledge that Papa would never agree to such a thing; no matter how much he loved his eldest daughter. 

Anthony was no stranger to her excellence either. While the both of them worked hard to set an example for their younger siblings. He always thought she was great at everything a girl should be and more. Though the ‘more’ part would never reach the ears of their mother or anybody else. Nobody should know that Anthony taught her how to sucker punch anybody that vexed her except maybe Benedict and Colin...also Eloise. That girl was far too curious and also far too attached to Benedict. Anthony thinks in the privacy of his mind that if she were a boy, there would be no quarrel that she’d get the title.

Other people also thought the same. Though they expressed it in a much less pleasant way, in words Anthony does not care for. They speak condescendingly. They speak of her gender with pity in their voices, their admiration twisted. They mention that her excellence should be toned down, that she should focus instead on things better suited to her. They speak of how inadequate Anthony is, how poor that a boy be overshadowed by a girl. They theorize how Anthony must hate her for taking all the spotlight. He hears all this, and she does too, seeing as they’re almost always attached at the hip. If it bothers her, she does not speak of it. 

They speak of lies. Anthony thinks that her abilities suit her as they are and that no matter how bright she shines, it would never be something to be upset over. He basked in her light. They are wrong for thinking that she’s taking a piece of his life away when in truth, she completes it. Best friends, twins, soulmates; he loves her and she loves him. Still, their words leave a mark.

So when Benedict said that albeit in a teasing manner, Anthony just ran away. As he got older, he found it the preferable way to escape his problems. If he could not run to her then he must run away. 

Anthony hugged himself as a strong breeze blew and made the unoccupied swing beside him rock.

“Tony.” And there she was. His twin was holding a book. She sat at the swing beside him. 

There was silence. The only thing he could hear were the wind, the scuffling of his feet, and the soft sound of her flipping the pages.

“Sister,” she did not look up from the book but she hummed, signifying that he was heard. “Why did you come out here? It’s better to read inside, surely.”

“You’re upset. Of course I would come.” she said matter-of-factly.

“Did Ben tattle?”

“Ben? Tattle? His mouth is tighter than a woman’s corset when it comes to secrets.” she laughed lightly. “Surely you know better than that.”

“Yeah, I do.” he smiled. Since they were little, even if they were distances apart, both of them would always know - or at least had an inkling of - what the other was feeling. During their early years they chalked it up to magic but now they both just conceded it as a twin thing. “Actually, I don’t. Know better, I mean. Everybody seems to think so. Am I inadequate, sister? Dumb perhaps? I feel like I cannot do anything right sometimes! Compared to you I - “

His twin laid a hand on his shoulder. “Tony.” her brows were drawn and her lips pursed. “First of all, there is no comparison brother. I am me and you are your wonderful self. We are both excellent, please do not doubt yourself of that no matter what anyone says. And I know they say a lot. I’m just so used to tuning them out that I never considered that you might not do the same. I’m sorry.”

She stood up and drew him into a hug. Anthony’s arms stayed limp at his side. “People will flap their mouths because that’s what they do; say their opinions even though it’s unwelcome. If we tried to stop every single one of them, why I believe it’ll take all our lifetime and more!” she chuckled. “We cannot change them so we must change how much we’ll let their words affect us. Their words don’t matter at all! If I could, then I would shove those words back up their mouth and let them swallow it. Which I don’t know how to do. D’you suppose punching them would work just as well?” Anthony laughed wetly at her quip. It would work but it would also involve somebody calling Mama and Papa for her ‘inappropriate behavior’.

“What I know is this.” she grasped his shoulders and held them so she could stare at him in the eyes. Anthony met her determined gaze head-on. “You’re good enough Tony. Hell, you’re excellent.”

Anthony sobbed and quickly drew her into a fierce hug, his tears surely wetting her dress but he knew she didn't mind. “That is as sure as the sun that rises in the east. As sure as our family’s love, and ours for each other.”

v. bring back the fire in her eyes

It started with a cold. She had stayed up too long outside and now she’s bed-ridden. Anthony crossed his arms at the corner of the room as his younger siblings ran around. In his opinion there was too much ruckus for her to properly rest. However, Mama brought it up earlier and his twin just waved her concern away, stating that some liveliness will do her good. And who was Anthony to go against the wishes of his dear sister? It doesn’t mean that he has to like it though.

“No you’re the troll!” Eloise insisted.

“I was the troll last round!” Colin argued back.

“Now, now,” Benedict placated them both, then he glanced at Anthony in a way that promised mischief. “Why don’t we let Anthony be the troll then? He certainly looks the part with how grouchy he is.”

Daphne giggled. “And how he’s guarding his corner.”

“And how horrendous his face looks!” added Eloise. 

Now he’s had enough. “You all look far too happy for someone who’s going to be troll food soon.”

“Troll wuh - AAH!” Eloise screamed as Anthony lunged at her. She took off with a sprint and soon the other Bridgertons followed as well, laughing boisterously. “Noo, Ben save me!”

“This is survival of the fittest -”

“Survival of the fittest your face!”

“Ehem.” Suddenly all motion stopped. Colin face-planted on the floor, caught by his momentum. All eyes went to the door where Violet Bridgerton stood along with a maid. She had a smile on her face coupled with a vaguely exasperated expression. “I’m glad you’re having fun but please take you playing outside. I need to tend to your sick sister.”

Various moans and complaints filled the room but only with a raise of their Mama’s brow, they filed outside the room, murmuring farewells and well wishes to the sole occupant of the bed. All except one. Anthony remained rooted at the side of his sister’s bed.

“Anthony, please.” Violet gently said. A complaint was on the tip of his tongue when a hand laid on his bicep. He looked at his sister, looking frail among the covers but she merely smiled and shook her head.

“I’ll be fine Tony.” she said. “Go and check that our siblings haven’t set the house ablaze or anything.”

For a moment, both of them just stared at each other. A silent conversation passing between them both. Anthony sighed. “Get well.” he bent over to press a kiss to her forehead. “I’m not sure I alone will be enough to stop them from doing that.”

She laughed. “You will be.”

vi. sometimes life just slips

It was only supposed to be a cold. A cold. 

Someone almost barreled through Anthony as he, Benedict, Colin came through the door. “Whoa!” he exclaimed as the maid said a rushed apology. Everyone in the house seemed to be in a mad dash. He exchanged looks with his brothers, who were as clueless as he.

“Anthony!” came the panicked voice of Eloise. He held her shoulders and looked over her for any harm of some sort that caused her to panic.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. Anthony was surprised to see her looking up at him with teary eyes. Eloise is looking at him like how she used to when she was much littler, pleading to Anthony. Believing with all her might that her older brother will make everything okay. He looked behind her to Daphne who was pursing her lips.

“Oh God, is someone dead?” Colin quipped, then promptly made a punched-out  noise as Benedict elbowed him.

“Sister, she - “

“She’s dead?!” Colin cried.

“No!” Daphne growled, irritated. “She’s just...in pain. Mama and Papa sent for doctors.”

“Goodness, how serious is this cold? - Anthony, wait!”

Anthony didn’t hear Benedict’s call. How could he over the thumping of his racing heartbeat? He ran upstairs like the devil was on his tail, and even then he felt like he was too slow. He paused at her door, psyching himself to open it. If he went in, what would he see? He raised his trembling hands, the complaints of his siblings nothing but a faint echo.

The doors burst open and out came two elderly men and one woman. The siblings crowded around them. Anthony could only hear snippets as he zeroed in on you. Mama was kneeling beside his twin’s bed, holding her daughter’s hand tight to her chest.

“The young miss will be fine -”

“We expect her fever to break -”

“Dear.” Anthony jumped, startled. The woman accompanying the doctors addressed him. “Are you okay?”

“My - my twin sister, will she be alright?”

“Twin, huh. That’s why you’re so distraught. Well all of you are but you in particular,” she shook her head and smiled. “Your sister is strong. She will be fine. You can go in. I’m sure she’ll be glad for your company.”

She need not say it twice. Anthony ran into the room.

“Sister.”

“Tony.”

He felt like he could breathe again.

vii. rewrite an ending or two

“Are you sure you don’t want to get up here? We shared a bed when we were little. And when we grew, sometimes.” she paused, thinking about her statement. “Often.” his twin amended.

Anthony hummed when she stopped running her hands through his hair. “No.”

“The ground is cold, Tony. You might get sick.”

“How could I? You already took all the sick with you.” Anthony grumbled. “I’m fine, sister.”

“If you say so.”

“How about you?” Anthony asked. 

“Hmm?” she smiled. Facing down and in the darkness, Anthony couldn’t have seen it but he felt it. “I believe I will be.”

viii. she is gone, but she used to be mine

 It was a miserable day in spring when the eldest Bridgerton was buried.

ix. most days i don’t recognize me 

“She…” Anthony clenched his jaw.

“Are you ever going to finish that sentence?” Siena asked, smiling until she noticed how tense he was. She reached out to touch his arm, inquiring, “My lord, are you alright?”

Anthony sniffed and quickly stood up, hastily picking up his clothes. “Yes, fine.” he answered, hopping on one foot to put his shoes on. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” Siena asked. Anthony barely spared a glance at her, pausing shortly halfway out the door. He checked his watch, eyes glazing over for a moment.

“I need - I’m needed. At home.” With that, he briskly walked outside and into his carriage. It was today. He must’ve forgotten. How could he have forgotten? But he also ‘forgot’ the other years. The grief consumed him on this particular day. It was always a sore reminder that he was missing his other half. So instead of going to her grave, he went drinking. Instead of spending the day with her in his mind, he spent it with his cock inside somebody. Anthony spent so much time forgetting but now it’s as if her ghost had come to haunt him. Every memory had come rushing back, especially the day she died.

He remembered the night before. The doctors had told them she would be better. She told him she would be better. But he needed to stay close to her. Anthony fell asleep with her hand in his hair. Then he woke up to her eyes open but her breath was gone. He had never screamed so loud in his life.

Anthony remembered their parents barging into the room, Mama taking a step back looking as if she was seconds away from fainting. Then she saw her son on the floor and immediately enveloped him in her arms. He woke up in a bed sometime during the night. He woke up convinced it was all a dream but that promptly shattered when all his siblings (all except one) filed into the room in their sleepwear. Their eyes were swollen and wet. And it stayed that way until her funeral, and even some more after that.

The carriage stopped. Anthony got out and stopped at the gate. He knew Mama held some kind of family gathering during this day. What they did in the gathering, he had no idea. He never stayed long enough to attend. But today was different, somehow. 

He padded softly into the drawing room. A quick glance noted him of all his siblings’ presence. Francesca was playing a familiar tune. Colin was singing in a low tone. Benedict, Eloise, and Daphne were all sitting on one couch, leaning against each other. The youngest ones sat on the floor, trying to follow the lyrics Colin sang. Mama was sewing. The melancholy vibe was replaced with a startled one. Francesca stopped playing and Colin stopped singing. Mama dropped what she was holding and walked towards him, arms open.

Anthony crumbled. “Mama -”

x. for the girl that i knew

“Mama what do you think about love?” It was indeed a bleak day in spring. Everybody had left after the service but Anthony chose to stay, lingering.

“Anthony I -” Violet began.

“Why does it hurt so much?” he whirled around, uncaring as tears and snot fell messily down his tired face. “I feel as if someone carved an unfillable hole inside me. Like every breath I take is not right. Half of me is buried six feet underground, mama. How can I bear it?”

Anthony curled into himself as Mama enveloped him into her arms. “One day at a time, dearest. You have us still.” she whispered. “One day at a time.”

[fin.]

[hunflowers]

Golden

Word Count: 15.3k

Requested? I don’t remember, but you always can here :)

Mood Board

A/N: Lord, have mercy SHE’S FINALLY HERE!!!!! My baby Golden is finally out to the public and can I just say how fucking relieved I am to post it. I love her, I hope you do too <3 little warning: there are mentions of panic attacks in here, and a heart condition (that i did my best to research on) so if you’re uncomfortable, pls don’t read. 

special thanks to my soul baby @stylesloveclub​ for being my biggest support system with this, she’s dedicated to you <3

for anyone reading this, please reblog! it really helps us writers out. okay onward friends!!! lemme know how i did and if you like it *nose boops*

Water. The ocean. Waves. The tide.

Symbolic of life, birth. Can be used to wash away even the most troubling of sins.

O’ahu, Hawaii, home to some of the best surfing destinations in the state, in the country, in the world. Also home to one of the best surfers in the state, in the country, in the world. 

Y/N didn’t coin herself that. Not that she’s complaining about it, but she doesn’t surf for the title. She surfs for the freedom. She feels the most alive when her toes dig into the sand as she runs towards the warm, salt oblivion, her novelty yellow and blue surfboard tucked under her arm.

Her whole life she had been surrounded by water. When she was a baby, she always wanted a bath. When she was a toddler, she always wanted to stay in the kiddie pool. And then she got into surfing, and well, the rest is history so-to-speak. Her parents never got themselves involved in the sport professionally but more as a recreational activity. And it was even how they met, so really there was no stopping surfing from flowing through Y/N’s blood.

Her backyard was the ocean, so growing up, it was really the only thing for her to do. It’s what all the kids were doing, and Y/N was no different. She met her best friends on the beach when they were five years old, practicing the basics of surfing, like getting up on the board and finding their balance with the Earth.

Kalani and AJ, two of the best surfers Y/N will ever meet, and two of the purest souls to ever grace her life. They’re madly in love with one another. Have been for as long as they’ve been friends -- so coming up on sixteen years. Y/N is in awe of their relationship, she really is, but being a third-wheel isn’t exactly something she signed up for. Though, she kind of expected it when growing up.

They tried countless times to set her up with someone, but time and time again their matchmaking skills have failed, and Y/N is tired of them pitying her. No, she may not be in a long term relationship, but she hardly has time for a relationship anyway. Especially with competitions coming up, she needs to keep herself focused on surfing rather than some boy who will probably end up breaking her heart.

Well, that was her intention anyway.

October 27th, the first day of the best months out of the year.

And it started just the same as every other year. Y/N woke up at the crack of dawn and threw on her lucky white bathing suit before throwing an apple down her throat. Her surfboard was perched up against the back patio railing, and she swiftly tucked it under her arm as she made her way down the shore, being greeted by the luminescent sun that was swarming the sea in a shade of tangerine and lemon.

Jogging knee deep into water, Y/N sunk her hand just below the surface, swaying it back and forth, taking a deep breath as she felt the cool texture swarm her body. Exhaling slowly, she threw herself down onto her board, paddling onward into the great unknown. The familiar sound of the crashing waves causing her to flinch for a brief moment before comforting her ears as she watches the restless ocean ahead of her, a smile washing over her face as she could basically see her future ahead of her.

Today marks qualifying day, and obviously if she marks as qualified, she moves forward to the Vans Triple Crown. She’s been training all year, her body practically a prune with how much she’s been in the water. But, a minute can’t go to waste, so up until the very last second where she has to head to the north shore, she’s gonna remain in the water and build her intuition with how the day is going to go.

Last year, Y/N had to cut her time short when she was hospitalized the night before the first competition. So, she was all more determined to win the championship that is rightfully hers. Well, in the women’s division at least. Last year was ripped from her right when it was under her nose and she refuses to have a repeat of it. 

After her hospitalization, everyone was convinced she’d never return to the water. Despite the ocean being her second home, everyone figured she would turn away -- avoid the embarrassment last year brought upon her. But, it only made her stronger and more determined to prove everyone wrong. No matter how frightening it really was.

Her first wave of the day had her coasting along smoothly, starting her out easy as waves progressively got bigger with the tide. When she got out into the water, the sun had just broken past the horizon line, yet by the time she left, the sun was nearly at its peak in the sky. Her skin felt raw, yet her body was running on adrenaline as she scoffed down the lunch her mom had made her before they banded into the family van and headed to Sunset Beach on the north shore.

Y/N’s heart raced in her chest, her leg bouncing subconsciously but furiously as she watched the landscape pass her by through the window. Her typically calming music wasn’t even working as she ran through multiple scenarios in her mind of what could go wrong today and how her day, her week, month, even year could be ruined.

Once outside of the van and on the beach, her parents pulled her close into a tight, warm hug, whispering words of encouragement in her ears, knowing just how important this was for her. Surfing and competitions had always been important to Y/N, but following last year’s downfall, this day was going to make or break whatever is left of her both physically and emotionally.

“Y/N!” she heard her name being called from the distance, the three of them immediately letting go of one another as they exchanged sheepish smiles.

“Y/N!” Was called out again, causing her to turn around and see Kalani running straight for the three of them, waving her arms in a drastic manner to gain her best friend’s attention. “Oh my -- I ran so fast, wow, I need to calm down,” Kalani breathed out, closing Y/N into a firm embrace.

“Save your energy for the waves, babe,” Y/N laughed, wrapping her own arms around Kalani’s frame. The two of them were never inseparable, it was kind of like they were actually glued to the hip together ever since they were children. And a lot of people were surprised they remained best friends through the years, what with both of them always competing in the same surfing competitions battling for the first place spot. And they knew this could be a strain on their relationship, but they decided ever since they were seven years old that they weren’t going to let surfing get between them. No matter what, they were always proud of each other for everything they’ve accomplished and are each other’s number one fans.

Thing is, Y/N tends to snag that first place spot a lot of the time, and Kalani always just misses her, earning her the second spot, right beneath her. But, Kalani has grown to accept that Y/N is better at the sport, and that’s nothing for her to be ashamed of. She’s managed to get a few of her own first place wins, and in her eyes, that’s good enough. She can’t live her life being jealous of her best friend because that’s not healthy, and anyway, surfing is much more Y/N’s livelihood than it is her own, so she’s fine with being second best -- despite what others may think.

Tugging her board off the top of the car, Y/N tucked it beneath her arm as she walked hand-in-hand with Kalani to wherever her family had set up camp on the beach. “Where’s AJ?” Y/N wondered, as she looked out into the water and saw no one out in it.

“The boys are starting soon, so he’s with Nav,” Kalani said, finally stopping in front of her parents and younger brother, and AJ’s older brother.

“Y/N!” They greeted, getting up from their chairs to kiss the girl on the cheek before greeting her parents. “It’s so great to see you back here,” Kalani’s mom smiled, pinching Y/N’s cheek before plopping herself back down under the sun.

They all began to catch up with one another since it’s been awhile they’ve all gotten together, all of them falling into old habits as if it hadn’t been months since they were last together. Y/N tried to engage in as much conversation as possible, but her mind tended to wander off as the guys started lining up in the water and making their way out. Her throat dried up and her palms were sweating -- and not from the heat -- as her nerves kicked in. Her memory began to cloud her vision as she stood abruptly and quickly walked away from the group, her heart picking up again.

Her breaths shortened as her mind blurred, and all she wanted was to curl up on her bed and calm her mind. She felt someone’s hand on her back, and immediately she could tell it was her father by the smell of his cologne. Once she was far enough from people, Y/N could feel tears well in her eyes as short images flashed across her eyes, cutting each inhale of breath in half -- which caused her to panic even more as she couldn’t breathe properly.

Last year ruined her, and she absolutely despises that this is considered her normal day-to-day routine now, her body shaking with fear as she feels herself collapsing from the inside, out. “Y/N, honey, can you hear me?” She thinks she hears her father say, but is undetermined with the intense white noise that’s swarming her ear drums.

“Count with me, c’mon, backwards from ten.”

But, all her mind could focus on was her body sinking lower and lower beneath the surface of water.

“Ten… Gotta count, c’mon you can do it, nine.”

“Eight,” she murmured, reaching out to grasp her dad’s shirt tight in her fist, just to make sure that he was really in front of her. She needs to be reminded that last year is her past, and that no matter how forward it is in her mind, it’s not her present anymore and she’s not drowning. “Seven.”

He took her hands and held them to his chest, “Six, keep going.”

“Fi-” she gulps, swallowing the lump in her throat, “..five.”

She makes it all the way down to zero, her body visibly relaxing and mentally as she hesitantly looks around to see no one watching the little event. “Do you want to go home?”

Y/N looks up to her father, shaking her head in response as she sniffles her nose and brushes away the one stray tear that has cascaded down her cheek. “No… I can do this.”

He cocks his head to the side and purses his lips, slowly nodding his head. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he turns them back in the direction, walking with her slowly as she continues to gather herself. “You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, Y/N. Everyone knows you’re an amazing surfer.”

“I think I just need to prove it to myself,” she stated, dragging her feet through the sand like a child so it slowed their arrival time back with the group. She can only imagine that her mom had informed everyone already of what was happening, and the last thing she wants is their sorry eyes and pathetic spouts of pity that she knows she’ll wish they just kept to themselves.

Y/N knows she’s broken. She’s not the same girl everyone knew this time last year, but she doesn’t need to be reminded of it every time she steps into a room. What happened last year was serious and she understands that people are worried; But all she wants is for everyone to forget about it. Including herself. She thinks the thing that’s causing her the most trepidation now -- rather than in the morning or all year long -- is the fact she’s now back in front of a crowd again, eyes trained on her like hawks watching prey, waiting for something awful to happen again.

The only thing missing is the popcorn as they watch this free entertainment.

When they finally came back to everyone, Y/N noticed the guys had started paddling out. Everyone was talking amongst themselves, dismissing her presence as she sat herself down back in the sand, and a breath of relief escaped her lips. The tension was there, but everyone ignored it for her sake, and Y/N couldn’t be more grateful.

“Go, AJ!” Kalani cheered, pumping her fist and shouting a few hoots and hollers afterward. Dom, AJ’s brother, let out a few ear screeching whistles, the kind with the fingers in the mouth, joining in on rooting for his brother. 

Watching the guys out there solidified to Y/N how real this really is, and soon her veins were pumping with excitement again instead of dread as she cheered on her best friend. He was going to qualify, they all were and they knew that, but it's always fun to get excited about the possibility of moving forward and winning the titles and earning the trophies.

All the other faces that surfed alongside AJ were mostly familiar, their names ringing bells as the announcers spoke of them, but there was one that Y/N hadn’t ever heard before. It’s the same cycle of people every year, yet this guy was fresh. And the only reason she’s curious as to who he is, is because he’s good. Like, really good.

Kalani can’t exactly remember if she’s heard of him either, shrugging to Y/N’s wonderment, “I don’t know. Maybe AJ knows.” His pink surfboard and pink wet shirt stuck out as he was a sight for sore eyes, and Y/N grew a little resentment towards him as he pulled out a few advanced maneuvers, gaining everyone’s undivided attention that used to be on AJ.

“Who is that?” Y/N’s mother questioned, looking around to see that no one knew the answer. 

He was a mystery yet he radiated this vibrant energy as the guys finished their rounds, walking off with grace in his step as he laughed at something Nav -- one of the three’s friends -- had said. The girls bid their goodbyes to their families as they headed over to where the guys were before their rounds. AJ immediately came running over to them, hugging Y/N and Kalani simultaneously before giving his girlfriend a quick kiss on the lips. “You did great,” Kalani smiled, keeping her arms wrapped around his center.

“Alright, not in front of me,” Y/N grimaced, looking away from them. Immediately her eyes landed on the new surfer, still talking to Nav, and she was quick to turn back to AJ to ask who he is. “Hey, who’s the new guy?”

Looking over his shoulder, AJ saw who she was talking about before realization dawned on him. “Oh, that’s Harry. He’s from England. A really nice guy, I bet you’d like him,” he winked, causing Y/N to look at him with squinted eyes and pursed lips.

Kalani nudged his side, giving him a weird look. “What? I’m just saying.”

Then, speak of the Devil, Nav and this Harry guy came walking over, joining the three as they stood around waiting for the announcement that the girls could head out. Y/N wasn’t exactly paying attention to her surroundings as she continued to calm herself down for the impending near future. It wasn’t until Harry had stood in front of her, that she was knocked out of her own thoughts.

She looked up at him, making eye contact and briefly getting her breath caught in her throat. When he was far away, it was hard to make out his facial features or what he exactly looked like. But being right in front of him, she was merely astonished at his beauty, but more so his green eyes that reflected the perfect amount of sunlight. His wet, brunette hair rested against his forehead and seemed to be drying a bit curly.

His head tilted slightly, an amused smirk inching up his face as he watched her reaction. Something tells her he’s used to this kind of reaction. “M’Harry.”

His hand came between the two of them, waiting for her to grasp it in a firm grip. Y/N was hesitant at first but finally took his hand and shook it gently while greeting herself before dropping her hand back down to her side. “Y/N.”

This is insanely awkward. Especially because her friends are just watching the exchange silently, as if they weren’t allowed to speak while the two introduced themselves.

Harry has heard of Y/N. It’s hard for anyone involved in the surfing business to not have heard of her. Aside from the jarring news from last year, she’s an excellent surfer and her name is always spreading around like wildfire. She’s part of the reason Harry decided to delve more into the professional surfing world, because he’s been itching to meet her.

Y/N is attractive, anyone with eyes knows that, but Harry wanted to meet her only because of her expansive skills in the water. Standing in front of her, he can’t deny her undying beauty -- and if he weren’t such a gentleman he’d probably be trying to woo her this very instant. But, her looks aren’t what draws him to her, and he decides to not think with his dick for once.

Before he gets the chance to say something else to her, they get notified that the girls should start heading out for their rounds. Y/N and Kalani grab their boards and tuck them under their arms before bidding their goodbyes to the boys and scurrying off to join the rest of the girls.

“Whipped already?” Nav jokes, wrapping his arm around Harry’s shoulders and leading them to the sand where they’ll watch.

Y/N steps her toes into the water, basking in the cool feeling wrapping around her toes and surging up her body. She rolls her neck feeling it crack softly before rolling her shoulders back and taking in her umpteenth deep breath of the day. Her and Kalani looked at each other, nodding with smiles on their faces before they walked deeper in the shallow water until it reached the middle of their thighs before dropping their boards down and paddling out.

At the sight of a small wave heading toward her, Y/N dipped herself beneath the water just to wet her hair. It felt refreshing again to feel the salt coax her skin for the second time that day, as if it never left. When she greeted the air again, she could immediately feel the rays of the sun bouncing off of her skin, illuminating her in a heavenly glow, like the star she is. The spotlight is on her as she aims herself for the peak of the impending wave, nabbing the first ride of the girls’ round.

Back on the beach, her mom’s fingers were crossed, her dad’s breath was caught in his lungs, and Harry’s eyes were fixated on her figure as she jumped up on the belly of her board. Her legs kept her balance against the rough matter below her. Due to the steep wall of the wave, Y/N had to act quick and rational in order to keep control, and started off with an off-the-lip, which kept her parallel with the wave before she moved herself down and carved herself back into the energy zone. 

Because it was a smaller wave, she could only go on for so long before she tipped herself off the board and fell down into the water. Everyone waited with bated breaths and kept their eyes on the area she sunk beneath the blue, before sighing in relief to see her head pop back up. Harry could see the joy wipe over everyone’s faces, replacing the worry that was once there as they hugged one another. He could tell Y/N has such a good support system, and it only urges him more to want to be a part of her life.

Of this life.

❊ ❊

“You guys did so good! We’re so proud,” Y/N’s mom gushed as she pulled her into a warm embrace -- a hug that holds more meaning than just being proud. Her mom was relieved. Grateful. Happy. She’s able to hold her daughter one more time, and that’s all she could ask for. “It’s going to be a good year for all you kids.”

Y/N felt like she was on cloud nine. She was elated, overjoyed, ecstatic, riding such a good high. Her comeback couldn’t have gone any better and she’s just so, so happy. Arriving at the beach she was nervous and anxious and was two seconds away from caving to her fears and running away. Now, as she walks arm-in-arm with her best friend away from the water for the night, she’s laughing a genuine laugh and her veins are currently pumping excitement rather than nerves. 

AJ locked his arm over her shoulders, the three of them linked just like they always are as they head towards Y/N’s family van. But, instead of like other times, this time they have a tag-a-long trailing behind them. It’s sort of like a tradition where after every competition, all of the families join together and head to dinner at their usual restaurant. Nav couldn’t come because he had his own family matters to attend to but Harry was more than willing to accept the offer. He says he came to Hawaii alone and that he had nothing better to do, but his intense stare on Y/N when he accepted the offer says that’s not the only reason he was so quick to join.

It was also part of the tradition that they ride together in the van, 1) because it was the most spacious vehicle where they were able to ride together and 2) because Y/N’s parents are pretty fun to be around. They blasted the best music and made the best jokes, causing not one dull car ride. When they filed in, AJ and Kalani pushed themselves to the back seat, leaving Y/N and Harry to sit in the separate middle row chairs.

“Oh! Harry, I’m sorry, I forgot to ask. Does your family want to join us? They’re more than welcome to,” Y/N’s mom looked over her shoulder in the passenger seat.

He cleared his throat, looking up from his phone and sitting up a bit in his seat, an uncomfortable look on his face. “M’here alone, actually.”

Before anyone could ask any questions, AJ clapped Harry’s shoulder, saying, “We’re your temporary family now, man.” Despite being competitors, it seems the two of them really hit it off and AJ genuinely meant what he said about being Harry’s family. Though, everyone knows the main reason he said it was to diminish the rising tension.

“Thanks, mate,” Harry returned, fist bumping AJ. And during the little exchange, Harry caught eyes with Y/N, catching her eyes wandering around his profile and facial features, causing her to look away quickly and look out the window as if the view was something spectacular. She could hear him snicker quietly, and just when she thinks the coast is clear, she slyly looks back at him just to find out he’s already staring at her.

They really love staring at one another apparently.

When they arrived at the restaurant, Y/N and Harry were pushed to the back of the group -- not really by choice but somehow it ended up that way -- and neither of them really made any moves to break the silence between them. Y/N because she was nervous, and Harry because he wanted her to be the first to speak. And it just so happened that when they were sat at a table, they were left with the last two remaining chairs that also happened to be right next to each other. Y/N couldn’t figure out if they were doing this on purpose or it was by coincidence, but she can tell Harry doesn’t mind.

She’s not one to be nervous around guys, but there’s something about Harry and how he is so blatantly interested in her that makes her wary of talking to him. Kalani sat across the table from her, and when they made eye contact, they had a silent conversation about how Y/N should grow the balls and actually talk to him. Of course Y/N refused, which earned her a kick to the shin in retaliation, which then caused her to let out a yelp of pain and made everyone look at her confused and worried. 

“Sorry, hit my knee on the table,” she brushed it off, glaring at her best friend the moment everyone turned away and continued with their own conversations. 

Being as slick as possible, Kalani directed her eyes to Harry when he wasn’t looking so Y/N could see her, before turning to AJ and talking to him about something completely irrelevant. Again, Y/N and Harry were stuck in this silence. She’s not exactly sure why she can’t just start a conversation, but he’s kind of intimidating and she’s afraid of embarrassing herself, especially in front of her family. 

Pursing her lips and looking down to her lap, Y/N finally turned to give Harry her attention, noticing how he was staring into space, looking completely lost in this foreign setting. “So, uh, where exactly are you from?”

Harry was quick to turn his head to Y/N, waiting and waiting and waiting for the moment she would say something. “A small town in Cheshire. Northwest of London, if that helps.”

“That’s a pretty far trip to take alone,” she nods, licking her bottom lip before gently biting down on it. As much as she thinks of herself as an independent person, she’s also an extreme homebody and could never imagine going anywhere without anyone by her side, whether it be family or friends.

He merely shrugs in response, “M’better off alone.”

Y/N cocked her head to the side while looking at him, letting his words sizzle inside her mind as she tries to overanalyze him in the mere hours she’s known him. She turned her gaze down to her hands that were intertwined in her lap, mulling over her next words to say. She doesn’t know him, but she knows the feeling of being alone. And being alone, no matter how appealing it could sound, never works out in the end. People aren’t meant to live alone. It goes against the natural order of life, and just hearing him say he prefers being alone breaks her heart just the tiniest bit. “No one’s better off alone. Everyone needs someone eventually.”

Little does she know, is that she is his someone. Or, at least that’s what Harry’s hoping. He thinks he’s crazy for being so enthralled by someone so suddenly and so strongly, but Harry’s always been one to trust his gut. His plushie but toned gut was screaming at him that this girl is just meant to be in his life. Maybe meant to be his, but he won’t push his luck. “Guess we’ll have to wait an’ see.”

They both smiled softly at one another, a small blush creeping up Y/N’s cheeks for the umpteenth time that day. “I guess we will.”

❊ ❊

It had been a little over two weeks since qualification day. Her days hadn’t changed much in regards to her schedule; Waking up at the ass crack of dawn and heading straight into the water and staying in practically until the sun was set. But, there was one slight shift in her day, and that was the now familiar face of Harry popping in everyday, either physically or in her mind.

It was safe to say Harry was quickly adapting to the three friends, merging with them seamlessly; As if he had been part of this little group since he was a child. It’s not like any of them minded, especially AJ because he was happy to get another guy around. Their friend Nav wasn’t exactly a permanent part of their little group because he belonged to everyone and no one, but Harry stuck around them like glue and AJ was so grateful. 

Y/N’s grateful because now she isn’t a third-wheel.

Harry and her aren’t exactly buddy-buddy, but it definitely helps having someone else around for movie night so Y/N isn’t stuck watching her best friend’s all cuddled up together and hearing the occasional kiss they would share.

Though, Harry has made it known time and time again that he really wants to be buddy-buddy with her. And Y/N’s not exactly sure why she won’t give him what he wants, but for some reason she loses all comprehensive skills and becomes a blubbering, nervous mess around Harry whenever he brings up his interest in her. So, she’s successfully avoided all buddy-buddy conversations with him by bringing up mundane things instead. Like, why she decided to paint her nails blue, or why she absolutely despises white socks.

She thought she was doing a pretty skillful job too. But, after the first two times she avoided giving a yes or no answer to going on a date with him, Harry purposely would ask her just to hear what other obscure distractions she could come up with. He loved hearing Y/N talk, and without her knowing, he was getting to know her piece by piece, inch by inch, and he was loving it.

Though, a guy’s ego can only take so many rejections before he gives up completely. And just when he was ready to call it quits and accept that she wasn’t interested in him like he was her, the unexpected happened.

Y/N agreed to a date.

Well, kind of.

It was time for the Hawaiian Pro. The official first event of the Vans Triple Crown. It was taking place at Ali’i Beach Park in Hale’iwa, one of the most intense surfing spots filled with waves of  many different faces. Of course, this is when Y/N’s nerves really started to kick in. Qualification day isn’t anywhere near as filled with people as the actual events are, and her nerves have seemed to kick it into high gear. It doesn’t help that the Hawaiian Pro is when her life changed a year ago. She could hear people whispering about her, wondering if she’s going to wipe out again or if this time she’ll stay under the water. Her mind was already frenzied enough, but nothing completes the cycle like a panic attack and the embarrassment of many on-goers witnessing said panic attack.

She almost backed out. How is she meant to be the best when her body is afraid of taking its final breath? The tide was high and the waves showed no mercy. How is she meant to challenge that? How is she meant to control the water beneath her when she can’t even control her own thoughts?

It was getting to be too much for her. This entire time leading up to the Triple Crown she’s denied her fear and her anxiety, telling herself she’ll get over it. She’s been doing good all year, so what makes now any different? But it is very different. The calm atmosphere of her backyard is no match for the rambunctious setting of the Triple Crown. And she’s a fool for thinking differently.

So, she was panicking.

Y/N couldn’t even get up from her seat in her parent’s van because she was so shaky. Her father held her close, easing her back to reality and away from her tortuous mind. Of course, he offered to drive them back home and away from the competition, telling her again that she didn’t have to prove herself to anyone. But, she declined again. Because she needed to prove it to herself. She’s stronger than her mind lets on, and she needs to make sure she knows that.

When she slid off her board and sank her toes back into the warm sand after a very successful first round, landing her in the lead spot, she was finally able to breathe again.

People congratulated her on her comeback, astonished to see her doing better than ever before. Her parents embraced her with love and elation, so beyond happy to see her laughing and smiling and enjoying herself now that she’s progressing forward. Kalani of course is her number one supporter, practically jumping on her and screaming in her ear about how happy she is for her best friend.

Everyone was making their rounds hugging Y/N, and then it was Harry’s turn. They didn’t exactly embrace like the rest of them had, but he threw his arm over her shoulders and pulled her to his side, squeezing her to him softly before looking down at her and saying, “Absolutely wicked, love. Gotta teach me some of y’fancy moves.”

“You sure? They’re really only meant for the pros,” she teased, biting at her bottom lip to conceal her laughter as he scoffed.

“”Ey, no one likes a narcissist,” he shoved her shoulder softly, rolling his eyes as her laughter rang through his ears. “But, whaddya say? M’gonna need a good teacher if I wanna make it to the big leagues.”

Y/N simply shrugs without really thinking much into it, “Sure.” Her mind didn’t exactly process what she had agreed to until later that night, before she dozed off into her temporary slumber. Her eyes shot open and her body sat upright as an over dramatic gasp was inhaled into her lungs. Her mind had been all over the place with the competition that she didn’t realize that she had agreed to being alone with Harry for the first time since they'd met. Immediately she texted and called Kalani, to which she got laughed at in return.

“Kalani, this isn’t a laughing matter!”

A few miles away, Harry was snuggled into his bedsheets, a bright smile stretched across his face as he reveled in the idea that he finally was going to be alone with Y/N since the first time they’d met. His heart was jumping and his stomach was fluttering as he envisioned her pretty face behind his eyelids before he drifted off into his dream with her. 

“It so is! C’mon, Y/N, what have you got to lose? You have the same interests, he’s funny, he’s hot, and he clearly is into you. Enjoy something outside of surfing for once.”

Enjoy something outside of surfing for once.

That’s the thought that stuck in her mind, lingering around as she finally fell asleep, and then when she woke up, and when she was eating breakfast; And doing her chores; And hanging out with Kalani; And eating dinner; And then falling asleep again. Y/N didn’t even realize she had spent so much of her past year focusing on her career and health that she hasn’t done much of anything else.

She’s so grateful to be alive, but she’s hardly given herself the chance to live again.

Before her accident, she was always up for adventure and was always the life of any party. After her accident, she hasn’t even been to a party. She hasn’t been in a relationship in years, she hasn’t gone on a date in a long time, and she can’t even remember the last time she’s had sex or kissed a guy. She’s been so focused on her redemption, that she can’t remember the last time she was genuinely happy.

Going on this date, but also not a date -- but also clearly a date -- with Harry just may provide her with that. And she owes it to herself, to her past self, that her accident isn’t going to shape her life anymore.

Plus, she really enjoys Harry’s company. And even if she doesn’t show it so bluntly like him, she really likes him too.

The next day, Y/N and Kalani had gone out shopping, enjoying a nice girls day out. They had bought a few new varieties of swimsuits (as if they didn’t have enough) and a few other types of clothes, got some lunch, and even found time to watch a movie. And they did all of this right up until the moment Y/N decided it was time to text Harry. 

She wasn’t sure how to go about this, because she’s never really asked anyone on a date before, or followed up with plans (?) about a date. Kalani kept urging her to just rip the bandaid off and to get it over with, saying something along the lines of, “You’re not getting any younger. Plus, I think he’d slip right off his board at the sight of you in that new yellow suit you got.” It was just a simple bikini, but it showcased the majority of her skin that essentially left little to the imagination.

But, the thing is, whenever Y/N gets into the water around people, she can’t help but cover her torso with a wet-shirt, insecure of the imperfections that lined her skin. It’s rare she can bear to look at her skin, so she only assumes no one else would want to either. So, she’s not so sure he’ll fall off his board at the sight of her, but the thought is nice.

Y/N pulled out her phone and hovered over his contact for a good amount of time before Kalani grew impatient and snatched the phone from her friend’s hand. They wrestled around with each other to try and gain custody of the phone, but finally in the end Y/N was able to hold her phone tight in her hands before declaring, “Okay! Okay! I’m texting, I’m going.”

Kalani peaked over Y/N’s shoulder as she watched her type the allusive message to Harry, a proud smile carving over her lips as she watched her break down a barrier she had subconsciously put up. It isn’t by any means important to be in a relationship or to have a boyfriend, but Kalani knows deep down that Y/N was wishing to have that special connection only a relationship could provide -- a connection outside of the realm of friendships.

“There,” Y/N huffed, shoving the screen of her phone in her best friend’s face.

hii, if you’re still up to learn from a true professional, I’m available tonight :)

It wasn’t even ten seconds later that she got a reply.

Shit, I’ll be your best student, babe. I know a perfect spot, I’ll be at yours in an hour.

It was kind of amusing to Y/N that he said he knows a perfect spot, as if she hadn’t been living on this island all her life and practically knows it like that back of her hand. But, that miniscule thought was pushed to the very depths of her mind as panic coursed through her as she realized what she was getting herself into. She’s going on a date, not a date, but also a date with Harry, and a small hour wasn’t enough time to gain her composure. 

Fuck.

❊ ❊

It’s no surprise to Y/N when Harry shows up to her house a minute early. She’s half convinced that he had been waiting outside of her house for the past fifteen minutes until he finally stepped up on to the porch of her house, knocking rapidly on the door. It wasn’t an emergent knock that caused some sort of panic, but it was a frantic knock that screamed ‘let’s get the show on the road.’

When she opened the door, both of their breaths were robbed from their lungs. Y/N essentially looked like she always did but something about her glowed differently to Harry; maybe it was because she’s his for the night. For his eyes only. Just him and her. He was awestruck. 

Harry essentially looked like he always did but something about him radiated differently to Y/N. The same little smirk was nestled in its usual spot, but this one held a different meaning. It looked the same, but maybe it was different because it was just her and him tonight. He’s hers for the night. For her eyes only. Y/N was nervous.

Y/N left her board out on her porch so she wouldn’t have to walk around back when he got here, but she was silently wishing she didn’t so she’d get just a couple more seconds to get herself together. She just kept chanting, “It’s not a date!” in her head, in hopes it would make her feel better.

It didn’t.

Harry saw her board and tucked it under his left arm as he threw his right one over her shoulders guiding her his mode of transportation. It also wasn’t a surprise to Y/N to see Harry rolling up in a light yellow Jeep; the top down and the doors off, typical of any surfer dude, no matter where they originate.

“Her name’s Betty,” he smiled, walking around the back and giving her a quick tap on her rear end before stepping up to straddle Y/N’s board safely and securely.

Sliding through the empty passenger door to take her seat, Y/N was greeted by a familiar smell, a smell she could only associate with Harry. And even if she could never admit it, she loved it a lot. It was mouth-watering and intoxicating, and simply put, it was Harry. Even with the open atmosphere of the car, it was still drenched in this specific smell, and Y/N can’t help but giggle at the image of Harry spritzing whatever cologne into the car before arriving at her house.

A few moments later, Harry slid into the driver side, placing the sunglasses that were sitting on the dash over his eyes, shoving the key into the ignition and starting them on their journey to whatever beach he had envisioned. On the ride there, over the course of a few right turns and lefts and different exits on the highway, Y/N surprisingly had no idea where they were going. Did she think maybe he was gonna murder her? A bit. But, she felt comfortable around Harry. So, she felt it in her gut that she was going to come out alive from this… event.

When they got to the beach, it was about thirty minutes from Y/N’s house, and she had no idea where they were. They had to walk a short path to meet sand and ocean, but once they made it past the clearing, Y/N was in awe of the site ahead of her. People could think that seeing the ocean every day ruins the peaceful and magical aura surrounding it. But, Y/N never gets sick of greeting it. The sun was beginning to set, and the water was glowing with a yellow-pink hue by the horizon that blended into a bright blue by the shore. The cliff sides around them guarded the little alcove, feeding into the tranquil atmosphere.

“How did you find this place?” Y/N wondered as she kicked off her sandals, and shimmied her shorts down her legs before kicking them over her sandals. The yellow bottom of her bikini was visible, and she turned her head just as Harry took a large gulp at the sight of her in front of him; Just for him. Her blue wet-shirt stayed on though.

It piqued Harry’s interest as to why she never took off her shirt. He understood for the competitions, but even when it was just a casual outing, just him and her, or them and their friends, she always kept it on. It wasn’t his place to ask, but he wished she would’ve broken this barrier down just this once. Just for him. “Tha’s a secret for me to know and you to maybe find out.”

Y/N let out a giggle - why? she didn’t know - and turned her attention back to the boy that brought her here, her eyes nearly popping out of her head as she caught Harry taking off his white t-shirt, now only clad in his little pink shorts next to his little pink board. His skin looked extra dewy, and his tattoos seemed to glint under the setting sun. Before she could devour him with her eyes, she picked up her board and took it with her, running down to the water and shouting, “C’mon slow-poke, gotta get in the water before the sun sets!”

It wasn’t a surprise to Y/N that this didn’t keep on track of a teaching lesson. Harry doesn’t need to be taught, he’s amazing on his own. He pulled off his own tricks that Y/N didn’t even know the name of, and she was asking him to let her in on his little secrets. He locked his lips in return, throwing the imaginary key somewhere over his shoulder, “Y’think I’m g’na tell you? I’m far too narcissistic to let you beat me at my own game.”

“Who said I’m gonna beat you?”

“Have you met you?”

There’s a reason Y/N’s name circulates throughout people’s brains, why her name is common in any Hawaiian household, why Harry was itching to meet her. She’s good at what she does. Insanely good that it’s kind of concerning. Not everyone can come back from a life-altering experience, but Y/N took those stereotypes and crushed them beneath the tail of her infamous yellow surfboard. She reveled in the doubts and came back stronger than ever. Of course she would beat him at his own game. She’s the only one who could.

There wasn’t any telling how long they had been riding wave after wave, in the water with no one else but just each other. But, the sun almost halfway past the horizon line was a good giveaway. They were probably nearing the two hour mark, and they knew they couldn’t stay out here all night, but Jesus, how they wished they could. Y/N wasn’t expecting to be so content, thinking this would be some strange, awkward, uncomfortable time they would want to forget about the moment they left each other’s sides.

It’s the opposite.

Just for him. Just for her.

They both laid on their boards, limbs sprawled out and dangling into the water as their bodies shut down in exhaustion. Y/N can’t remember the last time she went so long without taking at least a ten minute break. Her body was most definitely not used to it as she felt her back mold into her little yellow board, accepting the relaxation. When she finally opened her eyes back up, she turned her head to the side, admiring Harry’s profile as his arms were pulled over his head, the skin of his torso being stretched, which also stretched the ink that adorned him.

Y/N got lost in the mirage that is Harry, that she didn’t even realize he had turned his head and caught her ogling. It wasn’t until he cleared his throat that her eyes snapped to his, heat traveling up through her body and rushing to her cheeks. “M’eyes are up here, love.”

“Uh- right. Yeah, I know.”

“Cool. Hey d’y’wanna play twenty questions?” He asked, sitting up to straddle his board and paddling himself around so he was facing her. 

Y/N squinted her eyes, “Are we children?”

“I mean, I guess not. Doesn’t stop my five year old humor though,” he smiled, kicking his foot up to splash her with an inkling of water as his childlike, petty comeback. “You ask first.”

Y/N pushed her hand through the water to spray him in an ounce of sea salt before turning her head back to the sky, contemplating her first question. “Mm… favorite color?” She already knew the answer.

“And you asked me if we’re children? C’mon, darling, know you wanna know more than tha’. Pink. What was your first impression of me?” He wiggled his eyebrows, even though she couldn’t see his face. This has been one of those things that’s been nagging at the back of his mind ever since they first met. Their first encounter wasn’t awkward per-se, but the fleeting moment of introduction wasn’t exactly one worth remembering either. But, Harry was always going to remember it. And depending on Y/N’s answer, he hopes she will too.

At this, she turned her head back to Harry, hand covering her eyes as the sun glared at them over the reflective water. It was a sight to behold, seeing Harry glow in the golden hour light. “Intimidating. But, also unique,” she began, moving to sit herself up and paddle her board around so she was now facing him. “You remind me of a singular cloud in an otherwise clear sky. You’re not meant to be there, yet you’re not out of place.”

Harry sat for a moment, staring. Completely in awe. Head over heels. Never would’ve guessed those words to be the ones tumbling from her lips. It was the way she didn’t hesitate in her sentence, as if those words had been formulated a while ago and just now was she able to spew it from her wordbank. Just for him. “Fuck, that was beautiful. Your turn.”

“Do you really think you’re better off alone?”

Harry pursed his lips, looking off into the distance for a brief moment before shrugging, “I do. But, I don’t. If it comes down to going back to my family and friends from home or being alone, I’ll choose being alone.” And he wanted to sprinkle in the little bonus that he doesn’t feel alone when he’s around her, but something tells him that’ll just turn her away. “What’re you so afraid of?”

It’s a brash question Y/N wasn’t expecting to be thrown at her so suddenly. She has a mix of answers, and there’s a specific one flashing in her mind like a bright, neon yellow sign, but she’s not certain how comfortable she is with telling him yet. Though, she notices that whatever question she could throw his way, he’d answer it truthfully, not scared of opening himself up, just for her. She wants to be brave like that, and maybe she can be, but she’s not sure how.

It comes as a surprise to her when she does say, “I’m scared of going through everything that happened last year all over again. Everyone’s afraid of dying, or at least most people are, but experiencing death… there’s really no coming back from that. ”

“Experiencing it?” He looks at her wide-eyed.

“What, you haven’t heard of what happened last year?” She looks at him, eyebrows scrunched. 

“Only know you had some accident. No offense, but I didn’t really bother myself with reading the fine print,” he shrugs, running his pruney fingers through his salted hair. He didn’t know if he wanted to read it, especially not with the sudden news that apparently this very alive, lively girl in front of him… died? He doesn’t think he could stomach reading about that.

Y/N hasn’t met a single person who hasn’t heard about what happened to her. Or at least the details of it. In reality she doubts anyone outside of Hawaii knows of her existence, but in her world it was the biggest news to affect the state in a while -- aside from, like, actual serious matters, her accident was up there on the news.

She evades his second question though, not wanting to cough up the traumatic details of her past; not yet at least. “Well, it’s my turn anyway. Why surfing?”

“I could just look it up, but I get it; you’ll tell me when you’re ready,” he gave her a playful look, pursing his lips while giving her a pointed stare. “It’s different. England isn’t known for surfing. It’s known for rain and football. But, with every possible detail of m’life, I wanted to make sure I was different. My dad wanted me to become a professional footy player, so I said no. M’mum wanted me to go and get a degree and a real job. I didn’t want that. So, I turned to surfing,” he swung his arms around, gesturing to the vast sea and the board below him.

“Plus, it’s given me an excuse to leave home and come here. And y’know, so I could meet you.”

Y/N felt a small blush creep up her skin again, her eyes shooting down to her lap and her feet that were distorted under the water. Harry’s infatuation with the girl isn’t a secret, but anytime he purposely makes it known, it’s like a little secret that she’s unsure if she’s supposed to know or not. “Meet me?”

Harry kicked his foot up again so water would splash at her. “Uh-uh, my turn,” he laughed, shaking his head. He knew she thought she was slick at the way she bit her lip, containing her laughter. If she wants to play by the rules of the nonsensical game, then so will he. “Sunrise or sunset?”

“Sunset. Favorite song?” She wanted to reel back from the serious talk for a moment.

“Too many to choose from. Favorite movie?” He wanted to know every nitty-gritty detail about her.

She pondered for a moment, “Mamma Mia.”

“No shit! Me too!” His mouth dropped in shock, his hand flying up to his chest. 

“Really?”

“No,” he shook his head, immediately blocking the massive splash he sensed coming. 

Y/N rolled her eyes, huffing at him whilst crossing her arms over her torso, “Are you always so insufferable?”

“S’my middle name, babe. You hungry?” He laid himself down on his board on his belly, paddling himself to face the beach, ready to make a head start for the beach. Y/N hummed a response, following in suit and settling her stomach against the belly of the board and pushing herself to land. “Cool, let’s go get something to eat then I’ll take you home.”

Y/N’s legs felt weak, yet appreciative back on the sand. It felt like she was walking on Jell-O as she went to pick up her towel and clothes. Looking down to her shirt, she knew it was out of the question to let him see her take it off. And she could turn her back so he wouldn’t see her front -- whether or not it’s clad in a bikini top -- but even then her heart raced at the thought. She held her t-shirt in her hands and thought it over for a moment before blurting, “Could you turn around please?”

Harry looked up from checking his phone quickly, tilting his head in confusion before looking down to the shirt in her hands. The dots are connected and the bright neon pink sign in his head is telling him to listen to her, and not to question it. So, he doesn’t. Just for her. It’s still unbeknownst to Harry why she never takes her shirt off, but he knows better than to think with his dick, and accepts her wishes, turning his back to her. 

Y/N lets out a small breath of relief, grateful he didn’t question her on it. She’s quick to rip off her shirt and pat dry her wet skin before hastily throwing on her dry one, giving Harry the OK to turn back around. 

“Sorry, I just… I’m not comfortable with anyone seeing my, uh, my scar,” she mumbles, nervously moving her hair from one shoulder over to the other. Harry shrugs in response, picking his board up from the ground and wrapping his arm around her shoulder as they began their walk back to his car.

“You don’ have to explain yourself to me, babe,” he smiled down at her, squeezing her to his side softly.

Y/N looked up at him, and she’s sure that if she could see herself right now, her eyes would be twinkling in delight, with adoration. Just for him. “Thank you.”

They didn’t say anything else for a few minutes, walking the distance to his lonesome Jeep in peace. The silence gave Y/N time to think and to mull over all of the gushy feelings she was feeling inside about the guy beside her. She had no reason not to like him, realizing it was only fear that was pushing her away. But, this night displayed a soft side to Harry that she fell head over heels for. His smooth, easy-going approach to life, mixed in with respect for her, and a hint of witty humor was enough to tell her how she truly feels about him. And she’s scared, not because she’s afraid, but because she’s not.

Y/N can find herself easily opening up to Harry quicker than she has anyone else because she trusts him. She can just tell he’s got nothing to hide, so in-turn she wants to be the same. She doesn’t want to cower away, but revel in happiness. Because she deserves it.

Harry quickly secured the boards back into their previous spots before sliding into the driver side and whisking them away from their little getaway. The wind swept through their hair and chilled their still slightly wet skin, causing goosebumps to trail up Y/N’s arm as chills raked through her body. This time around in the car they both were more laid back, not singing along to the songs playing on the radio but rather just listening and taking in the blissful atmosphere they’ve created.

There’s been one question dancing across her mind though ever since he brought up the little game of twenty questions. It was the first one to pop up in her mind when she was thinking of something juicy to ask. She didn’t want to ask it though, in fear of what his answer would be. But, now she’s not afraid. She’s curious though.

“Is this a date?” She queried, turning the volume of the radio down a bit so he could hear her and vice versa. 

Harry glanced at her through his peripheral, one eyebrow cocking up on his forehead, “Is the sky blue?”

“I mean, right now it’s like orange-blue,” she retorted, looking at the newly sun-ridden sky that blended shades of orange into the usual night blue. 

“Brainiac. There’s your answer. It’s however you want to look at it,” he digressed, reaching over to pat her thigh - in more of a friendly manner rather than sensual.

She appreciated his answer, absolutely adoring the fact that he wasn’t putting pressure on her about anything. It was hard to comprehend just how nice he truly is, and how someone could be so perfect. She couldn’t see a flaw in his looks or his personality or his morals, and all she could wonder was how someone like him could possibly like someone like her. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you, Harry.”

He side glanced at her again, this time raising both of his eyebrows in puzzlement, “I’ll take tha’ as a good thing?”

“It’s good. It’s… it’s a good thing.”

❊ ❊

The two of them had discussed where they wanted to go, neither of them wanting to decide and going back and forth with one another, saying, “No, you decide,” “No you.”

Y/N was never good at decisions, especially mundane ones like where to eat. She always lets Kalani decide because she could eat anything, and it’s her friend that’s the picky one. But, Harry is the same way. Whatever is put in front of him, he could probably eat (except for pickles, he absolutely hates pickles).

They settled for pizza. And it was going to be Harry’s first time trying a slice of Hawaiian.

Y/N hates Hawaiian slices, finding the sweetness of the pineapple and the savor of the ham unsettling atop her pizza. It sends her taste buds into shock and her mind into a meltdown. But, she insisted he try it, because how could someone be in Hawaii and not try its state-named slice?

They sat at their little table in the corner of the restaurant that was alongside a window, giggling to themselves as they played a little game of eye-spy, waiting for their food. For some odd reason, Harry was really good at this game, always picking the hardest of objects to point out, always stumping a frustrated Y/N.

“You’re cheating.”

“How the fuck am I cheating?”

“Dunno, you just are.”

And in retaliation to her accusation, Harry pointed to her shirt, stating she got a little soda on it, causing her to look down to her chest and see nothing but finger as he flicked her nose. “Too easy. Sore loser.”

Y/N huffed, sticking her tongue out at him. The playful banter between them was the best part of their days lately. Before Y/N even realized her feelings for Harry, she always looked forward to what they would bicker about -- in a friendly matter of course. Now, she constitutes that to just wanting to see him because she really enjoys his company, and him. 

It’s been a long time since she’s felt this way about anyone, and she’s sort of glad she gets to feel this way about Harry. He’s an enigma, but a good one. She’s totally transfixed by him and she never wants this euphoria to end. He radiates this bright and bubbly energy that lifts her mood whenever she’s around him, and she’s afraid of losing that. But, she chooses not to dwell on the what-if, instead completely basking in the present and his gooey aura of happiness. 

When the food finally came out, they both were quick to stuff their faces, their stomachs practically turning inside-out from how hungry they were. It came to no surprise to Harry that he was absolutely in love with this Hawaiian slice, already looking forward to ordering two more. 

Y/N looked at him a tad worried. He was scoffing down three slices as if there were no tomorrow, all within a matter of two minutes. She was slightly worried he was going to reach over and take her dinner, because that’s how hungry he seemed to be. But, he should know better than to get between Y/N and her food. Like the one time he tried to take some of her fries, to which she punched him in the shoulder and then took them back.

“Hey, y’gonna eat that?” He points to her not yet touched slice of pizza, earning a glare that could kill in response. “Cool, you are, just making sure. Can’t let precious food go t’waste. It’s my turn for a question right?”

Y/N thinks back for a second to determine if he’s right or not, remembering she did ask a question last. She nodded her head before biting into her little piece of heaven. 

“Was it hard getting back in the water?”

She brought her napkin up to her mouth to wipe away the drop of sauce she felt on her cheek, mulling over her answer. “Kinda. I knew I had to eventually because it’s all I know, it was just a matter of when. My parents were terrified, and I mean I was too but I can’t let that dictate my future. I love surfing and nothing is going to take that away from me.”

Not even something as horrifying as death could take her away from her true love. Not until she’s truly six-feet under, riding silver waves in the silver palace. 

“Do you think you’re going to stay here? In Hawaii?” Y/N wondered, taking a sip of her Coke.

“Got nowhere else to be,” he shrugged, mindlessly tapping his fingers on the table in an arrhythmic pattern. “Home is where the heart is, right? Well, think mine’s here right now.” Across from her. Just for her.

Home is where the heart is.

“Does it count if my heart isn’t mine?”

Last year, Y/N was going about her day like she always did. She was fine, in tip-top shape just like she had been for the past twenty years of her life. The bright sun was out and shining over all of the surfers and onlookers, and it seemed just like every other regular day. She was paddling out into the water, and the perfect, golden first wave was approaching her. She pushed herself up onto her feet, balancing her body, in tune with the wave, executing a nearly perfect opener. Then, she felt her chest tighten and her body suddenly felt weak. Breathing rapidly grew difficult, causing her to instantly panic. She fell off her board, plummeting into the water, trying to gasp for air but choking on the sea that swimmed down her throat. 

Feeling herself sink as her chest was on fire was the last she remembered. The baby blue sky blended into black and that was it. Her life was over. 

Kalani was the one who went in after her, screaming for help as her best friend was blue in the face and not moving. 

Y/N suffered a heart attack. Apparently, she had a condition called hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, that went unnoticed all her life. On this day, her heart had thickened extensively, making it difficult to pump blood to the rest of her body. The strain on her heart caused it to give out, right when she was feeling the high of riding a solid wave. She was pronounced dead for a total of forty-five seconds before EMT could revive her. Supposedly she’s lucky to be alive, because if not treated basically instantly, there’s a slim chance of survival. But, she was able to stick it out until the hospital.

Her heart was in brutal shape, so she was sent to the top of a donor waiting list. Y/N and her family are forever grateful for the team of doctors and nurses that stuck by her side, knowing she wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for them. Or her sheer luck.

Y/N felt a little crazy for feeling so comfortable spilling all of this information so suddenly to Harry, but at the same time she didn’t. And the best part about it is that none of it seems to freak Harry out. Nothing about who she is or how she is scares him. And that’s what makes her feel so comfortable. “My scar, it’s from a heart transplant. I had a heart condition all my life apparently. Then suddenly one day, it couldn’t handle it anymore, so it gave out. A girl named Shauna’s heart is keeping me alive right now.”

Harry didn’t blink for a whole minute.

He opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, trying to come up with something, anything to say to the girl across from him. But, he had nothing. He didn’t know what to say.

His silence was a little concerning to Y/N, making her wish she could just be swallowed whole by the ground below her. Was it too soon to drop the HT bomb? He was bound to find out eventually, and she figured it was best to rip the bandaid off on her own time rather than someone else telling him or him looking it up on Google. 

She’s kicking herself over it. 

Harry cleared his throat, taking a sip of his water before licking his lips and leaning back in his chair. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

Y/N merely shrugged, “Don’t be. Shit happens. Who knows, if it never happened we may not be here now.”

Harry raised his eyebrows, his signature small smirk back on his face in its usual spot. He raised his glass, leaning it forward a bit toward her, stating, “Cheers to that, babe.” She raised her own glass and clinked it against his, a smile on her lips as she sucked up the remaining bit of her soda through her straw. She’s happy he didn’t turn and run away.

Cheers to that, babe.

By the time they both filled their guts to the point of feeling overstuffed, mindlessly chatting and spending time together, it was already past ten o’clock. The time had passed them by like it was nothing, but they weren’t necessarily complaining. The older couple next to them were though. Y/N had to pull Harry out of the restaurant before he bit the woman’s head off for how rude she was. That’s when they knew it was time to skedaddle.

Then they just drove around for another hour before Harry figured it was time to bring her home, much to his dismay. But, when her head lolled against the passenger seat headrest and her eyes would softly shut in exhaustion. He wanted desperately to reach over and tuck the loose strand of hair that fell out of her ponytail, behind her ear. He wanted to reach over and place his hand on her thigh as they drove down the highway, softly squeezing her skin before teasingly inching up towards her hidden gem.

Is it too soon to be in love?

It was like a slap in the face when Harry parked in front of her house. Reality stuck its nose into their little wonderland bubble, and unfortunately, they couldn’t push it back out.

Harry hopped out of his seat, unfastening her board from the trunk and tucking it under his arm as they walked side-by-side to her front door. He gently placed it down where he had initially found it earlier on, tucking his lips into his mouth as he stuck his hands in his pockets.

“I uh… I guess this is it. I had a really ni-”

“I’ve got one more question before you leave me,” he interrupted her little speech, stepping impossibly closer to her, barricading her between him and the banister on her porch. It wasn’t hard to notice the long stares at her shiny lips that glinted in the dull yellow glow of the light by the door. He purposely took extra time to rake over the features of her face before finally meeting her eyes. 

Y/N swallowed nothing but air as she softly bit at her bottom lip, “Yeah?”

She already knew his question.

“Can I kiss you?”

He already knew her answer.

Y/N slyly looked at him, bringing her hands up, a bit hesitant to rest on his shoulders. “I thought this wasn’t a date.”

“Sky’s blue.” Y/N looks up at the sky and notices it’s dark blue hue, twinkling stars layers on top, surrounding the fullest, brightest moon. It was a beautiful sky, perfect to share a first kiss under.

He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers as his hands came up to her hips. Her eyes fluttered shut, waiting for the climactic moment to overcome them, the air of the night chilling up her spine.

But, then she felt fiery, red hot as their lips locked together in a soft kiss. It was as soft as they felt towards one another. This giddy, slow paced, admiring kiss that had their insides melting but their hearts pounding. This kiss is exactly how Y/N images Harry. A pale yellow that’s not harsh on the eyes, that resonates happiness. Harry imagines it as a hot pink, one that takes his breath away and captures his mind.

It wasn’t long before it turned heated, Harry’s tongue sweeping into her mouth, and one of his hands travelling further south to grab hold of the flesh of her behind. Y/N let out a soft moan into his mouth as her hands tangled into his mound of curls, tugging softly on his roots.

Then the disturbing image of either one of her parents opening the front door at any moment flashed across her eyes, causing her to pull back, kissing his bottom lip softly before trailing her thumb over the swollen skin and opening her eyes to look into his gaudy, green ones.

The sounds of their breaths mingled together as tired smiles adorned their faces, little giggles leaving each of their mouths as they basked in what just happened. All Harry could think was, ‘It’s about damn time.’ All Y/N could think was, ‘Why did I ever push him away?’

“My turn,” she spoke after a few moments, standing up straighter and fixing her shirt around her body. “Pick me up tomorrow?”

A wide, shit-eating grin spread out across Harry’s face as he ran his hand through his mangled curls. “Sunrise. If y’not in this exact spot in the morning, m’knocking the door down and dragging you out by y’hair.” He hopped down off the porch, completely skipping the steps as the adrenaline of their first kiss kicked into his system.

“Sunrise,” she agreed.

He hopped back into the driver’s side of his Jeep, throwing his hand up in a goodbye wave as he sped away, already counting down the seconds until he would see his golden ray of bright and bubbly sunshine again. He’s not so sure if he’ll be able to fall asleep.

Y/N didn’t have that same problem. The moment she landed on her bed, her eyes shut faster than the speed of light, her last conscious thought being of Harry. Her smile never leaving her face. 

❊ ❊

Meeting at sunrise had become part of their routine. Not always to surf, but just to be together. Sometimes they surfed at their little alcove, other times they would watch the sun from her backyard, snuggled up in blankets on the beach. Or, they would surf, get breakfast, then fall back asleep in his bed until a more decent hour of morning.

But, their day always began at sunrise. It would be the equivalent to say that it also ended at sunset, but sunset was always too soon to part ways. 

This wasn’t an everyday occurrence, mostly at random. Except for Sundays. Sundays are specifically their day, as per request of Harry. How could he be in love with a girl that coined yellow as her color, that had a smile as bright as the huge burning star, that claimed golden hour was prime sun time, and not deem Sunday as their day? He didn’t put any second thought into it.

Despite their sort of fast paced first date, they’ve been taking things slow, truly getting used to the feel of one another over the course of the next couple of months. It wasn’t until a month later that Harry popped the question, officially making Y/N his forever buddy-buddy. Well, not necessarily forever, but they both know it’s basically forever.

Harry never wants to be alone again.

It wasn’t until the night after they became official that Y/N finally took her shirt off in front of him. She was going through one of her episodes, and Harry was the only one around who could help her. He managed to calm her down and bring her inside her house - that was empty because her parents had gone out for the night - and get her to the bathroom so she could take a shower.

Initially, he was going to let her get in by herself, knowing her boundaries in regards to her body and not seeing it. But, when he saw how worn down she looked, he whispered words of reassurance in her ear, asking her permission to help get her in the shower. He wasn’t thinking with his dick, he just wanted to help the girl that didn’t know how to help herself.

Y/N looked him in the eyes, nibbling softly on her bottom lip before averting her attention to her chest for a few moments. She trusts him, and if they’re bound to work out, she needs him to be comfortable with seeing all aspects of her both mentally and physically. Which includes her scar. 

So, she nods her head in agreement.

She lifted her arms and allowed him to remove her shirt, immediately feeling self-conscious. She couldn’t look him in the eyes as she stepped out of her shorts and underwear, going into the shower to avoid any lingering stares. Harry was quick to follow behind her, shutting the curtain after him. That’s when Y/N turned around and completely broke down, the tears that have been building behind her eyes finally pouring out. Harry wrapped her in his arms, letting her cry her eyes out for however long she needed.

When she stopped, Harry washed her hair, washed her body, washed away her bad thoughts, then washed himself as fast as he could so he could get her into her bed for the night. She snuggled up to his side, enjoying the warmness of his body that contrasted her cool ones. 

That night when her parents came home, they spotted Harry’s Jeep in front of their house. Though when the house was eerily quiet, and found the door to her bedroom slightly ajar, they peeked inside and saw the two of them fast asleep. Parents usually would get angry at the sight of their child in bed with someone of a different gender, but not Y/N’s parents.

Over the last two months, they saw their daughter break back out of her shell, slowly returning to her former self, and all because of Harry. They saw how happy she became whenever he was around, or they’d overheard happy she was when just talking about him to Kalani. How could they ever get angry at the fact that Y/N was happy?

With the blossoming of their relationship taking place at the same time as the Vans Triple Crown, word got around fast and soon enough they were the star couple leading the ranks in their respective divisions. The world -- or really the surfing world, because no one really pays attention to professional surfers, was in awe of them. They were the hype of the news, of the town, of the state. Rightfully so, because they’re awfully cute. 

It came as no surprise to everyone when the two were crowned the champions. The press went wild with this one, stating there was some scam happening behind the scenes, because what were the odds that this new star couple could both win? Or, how could Harry, a newbie, shoot his way up to the top in just one year? Or, how could Y/N dominate with her physical ailments? 

There wasn’t a hoax and there wasn’t any cheating. They both were just that good.

The day of the final competition, they may have worked just a little harder to land the championship title. Harry had picked Y/N up and they traveled to their secret hideaway bright and early in the morning. After being out at a party the night before, the two were in no shape to get in the water already, opting to snooze under the shade of a cliff on the beach for a little while. 

They didn’t sleep for very long before they got wrapped up in one another, indulging in a morning session of intimate love. They slept for maybe an hour before Y/N was ready to get her swim on, but Harry was the biggest sack of lazy mush that morning. He didn’t want to get up for nothing. He was laying down on his surfboard, completely comfortable under the shade. Y/N tried tugging on his arms to get him up, but he wouldn’t budge, a half-sleepy and dazed smile on his lips.

At one point he tugged her back, causing her to land on his lap, legs straddling his hips as her face crashed into his chest. His arms wrapped around her back, securing him to her as he said, “See? Isn’t this so much better than physical activity?”

“C’mon tubby, we got shit to do,” Y/N giggled, but Harry just held onto her tighter and nuzzled his cheek to the top of her head.

He hummed, “S’comfortable here.”

Y/N didn’t know what else to do, so the only maneuver left was bribery. Harry’s no different than any guy in the sense that once sex is brought into the mix, his ears perk up and his dick stiffens. So, Y/N was going to use that to her advantage. “If you get up, you can fuck me all night tonight.”

Harry was quick to sit up, her still in his lap, eyes squinted in suspicion. Y/N bit her lip to refrain from laughing, but she was mentally patting herself on the back. His hands shifted down her back to grab onto the flash of her behind, pulling her center closer to his and building up a bit of friction. “How about right now and tonight?”

“I can’t be exhausted for today, H,” Y/N rolled her eyes, moving to get herself off his lap, but he kept her grounded.

“You don’t ‘ave to get in the water now. You’ve practiced, you’re prepared, you got this. The championship is practically in your hands already,” he disclosed, peppering kisses up the side of her neck, a few across her jawline, and then landing on her lips.

Even if that may be true, she doesn’t want that to stop her from putting effort and time into winning. “Harry…” she started, getting lost in the feel of his lips suckling a lovebite right in the crook of her neck, her most sweet spot. He lifted his hips up slightly, pushing against her heat, eliciting the smallest moan from her mouth.

“Bet y’soaking your suit. Can I see?”

They only have a limited amount of time before they need to get to the Northshore at Ehukai Beach Park for the competition. It was about a forty-five minute drive alone. But, Harry’s lips and fingers were way too persuasive, so Y/N nodded her head.

“Good girl.”

He lifted her up so her back was now against the belly of his pink board, her legs immediately wrapped around his broad shoulders as he placed a chaste kiss to her clothed core. She whined as he hooked his fingers into her bikini bottoms, dragging them tortuously slow down her legs. His eyes immediately attracted themselves to her glistening slit, her wetness practically inviting him in. “So fucking pretty, baby.”

Harry’s hands pushed her legs as far apart as they would go, licking a fat stripe up from her little hole to her sensitive clit. Y/N threw her head back as he focused his attention on her clit, swirling his tongue around the little bud before sucking it into his mouth. She was a whimpering mess, but that earned her a smack on the ass and a first warning from Harry.

“No one’s around. Let me hear you loud and clear,” he gave her a pointed look, keeping their eye contact as he went a little further south, pushing the tip of his tongue into her cunt. Y/N tried closing her legs around his head but Harry just pushed them open further, keeping a firm grip on her thighs that were bound to leave bruises. Bruises just for her. 

Her jaw fell slack, moans tumbling past her pink lips louder and louder. Her nails dug into his shoulders, most likely leaving scratches he’ll find later when they’re stinging in the shower. Just for him.

Y/N was growing restless as he inserted his middle and ring finger inside of her, pushing and pulling them at an intense pace that caused her toes to curl in the sand by his hips. When he managed to push his index finger in alongside the other two, Y/N began to see stars at the stretch of her walls.

“So tight f’me. Imagine it was my cock instead. Would feel so good and full, but you’d be too exhausted for later, hm?” He cooed, letting her adjust to the extra digit inside of her before fucking her harder and faster than before. He kissed up her tummy that was visible from under her shirt before landing his forehead against hers.

His free hand grabbed a hold of her jaw, making her face him which caused her eyes to open up quickly, locking eye contact with one another. “S’a shame. M’so hard, like a fucking rock. But you’ll be too tired.”

Teasingly, Y/N nodded her head in agreement, earning a hard glare from her lover. At this, he stopped the movement of his fingers, slowly pulling them out of her. Y/N’s mouth opened wide, her eyebrows scrunching in confusion as Harry sucked his fingers past his lips, indulging in her sweetness that tasted like a little sliver of heaven. 

“Wh-wha…?”

“Close y’mouth, Y/N. Gonna catch flies,” he smirked, reaching over for her bikini bottoms and sliding them back up her legs until they were nestled against her soaking wet, throbbing pussy. “Said it y’self. Can’t be exhausted for the finale today, gotta be quick on your feet and coasting the gnarliest waves. C’mon slow poke, gotta get some practice in.”

So, Y/N was pissed off to say the least. And because of this, she was extra determined to push herself as far as she could to come out on top today. Harry on the other hand, well he was just mad that he had an insane hard-on that his own girlfriend didn’t want to tend to. He should’ve expected his little stunt wouldn’t go over nicely, but the look on her face when he stopped was absolutely priceless.

When it was announced that Y/N and Harry had won in their divisions everyone was beyond elated at the news, cheers and hugs and kisses spread all around the group. Though when it was their turn to congratulate each other, they looked at each other, small smiles on their faces before they turned to make conversation with someone else. That didn’t stop them from reaching for one another though, slyly interlocking their hands together.

They were whisked away quickly for pictures, holding their trophies high in the air, the biggest smiles on their faces. Y/N’s parents were cheering them on, more specifically her because they were so proud she was able to take her life back. Y/N could cry at the sight of her mother being a blubbering mess, and her dad’s admiration sparkling across his eyes. Though, with the support of her family, Y/N’s mind couldn’t help but wonder about Harry’s family, and how they couldn’t support their son with what he loved. 

With this, Y/N squeezed his hand harder, and despite the cameras around them, she leaned up on her tiptoes and placed a kiss to his lips, the clicks of the cameras and the chatter of the crowd increasing. But, neither of them cared as they looked at one another, full of love.

Because that’s what this was. Love.

It didn’t matter that they had only met a little over three months ago, only dating for two months. They were in love. And that’s all that mattered.

Going out to dinner that night, they hardly left each other’s sides. They were being that obnoxious clingy couple that no one likes being around, but they didn’t care. Because they both knew they were in love. An unspoken love that didn’t have to be announced because the whole world knew, and so did they.

“Cheers to the love birds! And for the love of God, could you stop looking at each other like that,” AJ gagged, causing everyone to laugh before they clinked glasses.

When they left the restaurant, Harry and Y/N hopped into Betty, driving around for a little while before they decided to stay at his for the night. It was when the wind was blowing in her hair again, the moon shining above them and shining through her hair, his hand gently on her thigh, squeezing softly in contrast to that morning, that Harry truly felt it. This love that he has for this girl. Love that’s meant just for her. Her, and only her.

This gushy feeling was put on hold for a little while though the moment they walked through the door of his apartment. Y/N was bent over the arm of his living room couch, her one leg bent and on the armrest beside her while the other was trying its best to keep her steady on the ground. Harry’s fist was wrapped up in her hair, proving to make it more difficult for her to keep her balance. Though she wouldn’t want it any other way. 

“What’s the matter, babe? You said I could fuck you all night.” Harry’s hot breath coated the shell of her ear, “Y’tired?”

She gasped at a particularly hard thrust that felt like it had hit against her cervix, trying to get the word No out in between her moans and whimpers. 

“Hope not. Had me aching all day for your tiny cunt. M’gonna need a few hours to really appreciate it.” She could feel his menacing smirk against her skin as he again thrusted so far deep inside of her, her one leg gave out. If it wasn’t for Harry holding her up, she would’ve fell right over, too weak to even try and get back up.

They went twice on the couch before Harry helped her get to the shower, where they did it again. And then when they finally cleaned themselves, they got into bed, where they did it again, but this one could be classified under love-making. It was slow and sensual and sweet, just like them. Harry paid extra attention to her scar, trailing down the tissue with soft kisses as they softly climaxed together.

It was a little past midnight at this point, and they were both extremely tired. Y/N was on the brink of dozing off into dreamland before Harry interrupted her exhaustion. 

“We never finished our game of twenty questions, did we?” He murmured, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Y/N lazily opened her eyes, shaking her head, “Don’t believe so.”

“Think it’s my turn,” he hummed. “Do you love me?”

There was silence for a brief couple of seconds, making Harry think Y/N had dozed off before answering his question. But, Y/N just needed those seconds to collect her mushed thoughts inside of her mushy brain before giving him a coherent and valid response.

“Yeah. I do.”

Harry smiled, probably the biggest he’s ever smiled, leaning down and taking hold of her face and smashing their lips together in a ceremonious kiss.

“Sick. Ditto, Sunshine.”

[tornrose24]

Okay idea for an au of an au. Hear me out.... au where the lords do adopt Rose, but sad. Say the lords do take in Rose, but through miscommunication or whatever, they believe Ethan is a danger to her, or that he has the same intentions as Miranda. Whenever Ethan gets close to one of them, they hand Rose off to the next lord to keep her safe, knowing there might be a battle. The story goes through as usual with Ethan killing them one by one, continuously going from place to place to find his daughter, along the way finding small, child like artifacts like toys and such with a rose sown into them. By the end, all the lords are dead and Ethan as his daughter back. As he walks away with her, Rose sees the ashes of the family that had taken her in, and even in her infant mind, knows its them and starts bawling and trying to reach for pile of ashes. Ethan thinks shes basically traumatized from being kidnapped. It isnt til he find a photo of all four lords with Rose, as a family that he realizes that he may have made a mistake.

That is just... wow,

It’d be like the Malificent movie if it was actually good, had a downer ending, and didn’t pointlessly turn the dad into the villain just to make the main character look sympathetic. Or a Shadow of the Colossus tragedy.

So first off I don’t know how badly Ethan was needed for the ceremony,  but I could easily see Miranda doing some horrific gaslighting on the lords to make them think Ethan was an awful father and husband (especially given what she’s capable of doing and if she did it beforehand by knocking out Ethan for a bit and messing with Mia’s head and safety for a bit by posing as her husband. And I don’t think I need to say what kind of things happened in order to mess with not just the lords’ heads, but poor Mia as well...). And Miranda does not let them kill Ethan as much as they want to-she wants to get rid of her false children before she can get her true child back. What better way than a game of deception and let Ethan do the dirty work?

Alcina’s death would not only further convince the others that Ethan is the bad guy, but him killing her daughters first would only make things especially worse. Like by the time Bela dies, Rose is immediately sent to Donna. Unfortunately Alcina’s hatred for men (made worse by Miranda’s trickery) only further aids in her family’s downfall...

Donna would know what it’s like to have a genuine loving father. So she’d also have a personal grudge against Ethan for ‘being scum undeserving of the title of father’. And a lot of her mind games and what Angie says would reflect that (“Do you do this with Rose too” would take on a much more darker meaning). Her monsters in the basement would become more horrific and reflecting of young victims of crimes best left unsaid. However it only fuels Ethan’s anger moreso and he kills her. Yet Rose is already with Moreau...

Moreau is kind of already screwed given he can’t control his transformations (not only is the environment a safety hazard for an infant, but you can only do so much in a giant monster fish form) and his low IQ doesn’t help him out in this scenario. But he’d get Rose sent to Heisenburg just after meeting Ethan and likely try to kill him than just block off his exit. Yet he too is fated to die for a misunderstanding...

Heisenburg would be the only one to somewhat suspect that Ethan is actually a good guy and that Miranda was screwing with everyone’s heads, but he had no way to convince his ‘siblings’ otherwise. Even his words around Ethan would be more careful in case the worst case scenario is true. Yet the scars of the past still linger and he remembers all too well what it meant to be a child under an abusive/controlling ‘mother’ and his guard is up. However he’s also too focused on overthrowing Miranda and still says that Rose could be used to defeat Miranda, and like in canon Ethan just doesn’t trust him and it later leads to Heisenburg’s death. And without anyone to keep an eye on Rose, Miranda steals her away while the big fight is happening. (So basically Heisenburg sees that Rose could end up like him when Miranda took him, but revenge still comes first)....

The fact that there are no more villagers left to hide Rose doesn’t help and the Lycans are too focused on Chris and his group. Then Miranda does what none of the lords had the guts to do in the first place for her twisted ceremony...

And to further worsen the situation? Chris (who was probably keeping an eye on things) never tells Ethan that the lords never truly harmed his daughter, or even thought to approach the lords about the truth when he got an idea of the situation, yet understandably didn’t believe it was true, so things only got worse. And The Duke? The only other person who’d tell Ethan the truth? He probably wouldn’t have been in the loop and didn’t know of the lords’ rate moment of compassion. So things continue as they do...

I think I’m order for that photo to happen, Rose would of had to have spent a few days with the lords first before shit hit the fan. And it would have been stolen and hidden away until the very end, when it was too late. But yes, she’d have been around them long enough to not feel any fear towards them-perhaps she’d have grown attached to them. And the toys and gifts? Hints of truth and humanity, yet could easily be ignored by a desperate father who only cares about his daughter’s safety and nothing else.

Furthermore, maybe once upon a time the lords were once decent folks before Miranda came into their lives. But by the time of the AU’s current timeline, their own crimes and reputations would horrifically backfire on them in a time where they had a moment of humanity once more... Their only way of living on being through Rose’s memories and through the megamycte.

(Unless that crystal theory is true and they can be revived of course.)

[pterodactylterrace]

Beautiful

Title: Beautiful

Chapter: 1/1

Summary: I'll take just a moment with you, rather than a lifetime without.

Rating: T

Warnings: Drinking, fluff, death, pregnancy. Definitely not my greatest work, but it makes me feel some kinda way, so I thought I’d share anyway. 

When his Ma used to tell him about when she first met his Pop, Syverson always thought it was a dramatic, romanticized version of events. How could you possibly know someone is right for you the second you meet them? You need time to get to know them, to see if you can tolerate living with all the fucked up parts of them before you decide they're the one you'll stick with for the rest of your life.

Now though, his blue eyes catching on a pair of green ones from across the bar, Syverson was beginning to think she may have been onto something. Something about that girl felt... right. A little voice in the back of his mind told him 'yup, she's the one we're gonna marry'.

Being a little old fashioned, he'd asked her for a dance, clumsily moving to some sort of made up rhythm that most definitely wasn't the song that was playing. Her laugh. Oh God her laugh. He swore his heart beat to the sound of her laughter, so pure and carefree. It was a sound he wanted to keep hearing for as long as he could.

He'd spent most of his night with her after that. They shared many rounds and found themselves lost in conversation. Before either one knew it, it was last call. Syverson offered to walk her home, willing to do almost anything to prolong his time with her. After all, he never knew when he would see her again.

They had barely gotten out of the bar when she'd stumbled off to the bushes, violently throwing up the last several rounds of drinks. Syverson dutifully held her long brunette strands from her face, his large hand gently rubbing her back, his callouses catching on the soft material of her dress.

In spite of that, he'd still managed to get her number. He didn't bother waiting the 'required' three days before calling. Games were for boys, and he wasn't about to waste time he could be spending with her. They had their first official date later on that week. Syverson broke out his 'good' shirt and everything, no matter how ridiculous he felt in it. Dress clothes and Syverson just didn't mix, but he couldn't just take a pretty girl like her out wearing one of his usual t-shirts.

She'd been delighted by the flowers he'd bought her on their first date. Surprised when he got more for their second, and downright shocked when he continued the tradition for their third. For some reason, he absolutely refused to show up at her door without flowers for her. The first one had been from a store. She could tell from the cellophane wrapping. The other two, she suspected he picked himself. The image of such a burly man delicately trying to pick flowers was both silly, and endearing.

She'd been reluctant when Syverson mentioned wanting to introduce her to his parents. His meeting with hers had gone off without a hitch, her father commandeering him to the study for most of the night, luring him in with scotch, and promises of framed pictures from when she was growing up. The two men were fast friends, and her mother was delighted with how well mannered he was. She just wasn't sure what she would do if his mother didn't like him. He was definitely a mama's boy, though he'd probably kill any man that dared to say that to his face.

He'd reassured her over and over that she was going to love her. He was almost desperate for the two most important women in his life to like each other. Thankfully, they had hit it off almost as well as Syverson had with her father. He was almost a little jealous (fine, he was definitely a lot jealous) when his mother offered her the spatula to lick when they were making cookies. He was the chief cookie dough spoon licker, and he had a t-shirt form his childhood that proved it. If it meant they liked each other, however, Syverson was willing to relinquish his title. This time.

He was gobsmacked when his mother handed him a pillow and a spare blanket that night, shooing him off toward the couch. It only took one stern, raised eyebrow from his mother to keep him from protesting. He knew she expected him to wait for marriage. She also knew that he hadn't. He was well aware she knew of that fact as well, but that didn't mean had to put up with it under her roof. She had raised him to be a gentleman, after all.

The pair of them found a beautiful home out in the country, a ton of property for kids to play on and for Aika to run freely. There were even a few apple trees in the far back of the property. That's where they got married, under those trees, who's fruit was the same color as her eyes. It took a few years of work to turn it into their dream home, but it was their labor of love. They had ripped the inside down to studs and rebuilt everything just how they wanted it. Syverson put in a fence around the property, a project that took over a year to complete.

It was just a week after they had finally finished the last of their renovations that her water broke, all over the brand new tile floor in the kitchen. It was also two months before her due date. Syverson had done his best to stay calm for her. He was just as terrified as she was, but she needed him to be strong. The most terrifying moment of his life was when she gave her final push and the doctor began wiping off the baby. The silence was like a knife to the heart. A team of people were rushed in and began working on the tiny infant.

"What's going on?" She had whispered, turning tearful eyes up to her husband, her heart dropping more and more with every passing second. Syverson had slid around the bed, peering over the nurses heads at the little girl that had just been brought into the world. They were sucking out her nose and mouth, vigorously rubbing her with a towel, trying to get her to take a breath.

His world started spinning again when he heard her first tiny cries, steadily growing louder and louder as she made her unhappiness known. He was sure to wipe the tears from his eyes before he turned to his wife, carefully taking her hand in his and kissing her knuckles. "She's ok. She's ok."

Walking his daughter down the aisle was the hardest thing he ever had to do. He was a good guy, sure enough. He treated his baby right. That didn't make it any easier to give her away to her new life. That day was only the second time his wife had seen Syverson cry.

He could tell he was getting older, and that the years hadn't been kind. His knees clicked whenever he moved, his back was in constant pain, and he developed tremors in his arms. His wife had aged beautifully, however. The lines around her bright green eyes only underlined their beauty, and grey had been threaded gracefully through her hair. Now, though, was the most difficult time of his life. They had found the cause of the tremors. A tumor, deep in his brain, and an aggressively growing one at that. The risk of operating on someone his age was too high. It was getting closer and closer to his time to go, and he never felt so powerless in his life. All he had ever been able to promise his wife before was that he would be there for her. What could he tell her now? He was leaving her all one. There wasn't going to be anyone at home to take care of her anymore.

Her small, delicate hand found it's way into his palm, still rough even after all the years. She didn't want him to go, but they both knew his time was coming. "Don't cry for me, darling. I had a good life. The Lord blessed me with a little girl and a beautiful wife. I promise, I'll see you again one day."

"Where's Teddy?" The most heart wrenching words that had ever left her mother's mouth. Her mind had started to go in the years following her father's passing, and lately she'd been forgetting more and more. Telling her mother that her father had passed years ago was the hardest thing she'd ever had to do. She watched her mother break all over again. She vowed to never tell her again. Every time after that she had told her mother "he's in the garden".

"Teddy." Her mother's weak voice broke through the monotonous beep of the monitor.

"He's in the garden, Mama."

"Teddy." She repeated, her eyes fixed just beyond her daughter's face.

"I told you I'd see you again, darling. What do you say we go home, beautiful?"

Taglist: @Xxxkatxo @Weallhaveadestiny @lunedelorient @summersong69 @mis-lil-red @lharrietg @amberangel112 @mansaaay

[writings-of-a-british-fangirl]

A Heart Of Change (Zuko X Reader) [Everything Has Changed Part 4]

Title: A Heart Of Change Summary: Azula returns to exact her revenge, but that's not the only thing that returns with her. New events and old feelings come to light. Warnings: Angst ? And canon violence. Requested: By a few lovely followers of mine who wanted a part 4!!

A/N: I glossed over Boiling Rock Part 1 + 2 because I couldn't think of a good way to incorporate the reader in those events so I'll be referring to them instead of completely retelling them.

A/N 2: Sorry for the month long hiatus! Work has been crazy! Anyway, enjoy part 4 x

CATCH UP ON THE OTHER PARTS FIRST-

PART 1: EVERYTHING HAS CHANGED PART 2: CHANGE IS GOOD PART 3: CHANGING SPIRITS PART 4: A HEART OF CHANGE

Zuko~A Heart Of Change

A lot had happened in the past few days- and it was almost enough to distract you from the bigger picture. With Zuko and Aang learning the true source of fire bending, and Sokka to rescuing Suki and his dad (with Zuko's help), you'd almost forgotten what was inevitably coming for you. Your previous actions had consequences. And, where consequences and revenge were involved, Azula wasn't far behind. (If you were being honest, you were surprised she didn't find you earlier.)

     What didn't surprise you, however, was how ready she was. She came prepared: a taunting expression on her face, and a fleet of air ships behind her, she launched her attack on the Western Air Temple. You couldn't fight them all at once, not even with Avatar right now. Fleeing safely was your main priority. If you had any hope of defeating the Fire Lord before that comet, Aang needed to master fire bending- and you needed to make it out of here alive.

    You look over at Zuko and recognise a look in his eyes. Zuko had never backed down from a fight- especially with his sister. And, now you were worried what he would do next.

    "We have to go now, Zuko," you plead, "It's not worth fighting her if it means we don't get out of here alive."

    Zuko glanced at you and then back at his sister. He had to do something: letting his sister get the best of him again didn't sit right with him. He hated feeling helpless. Besides, a distraction was needed to get out of here. Zuko was happy to provide that.

     "You go with the others," Zuko insisted, "I'm going to distract her, she'll be too busy fighting me to attack you guys."

      You weren't sure about this, but decided to help round up the others anyway.

     Haru began to make a tunnel out of the air bending temple, trying to help the others escape. Aang was doing his best to persuade Appa to follow them through the tunnel, but it wasn't working. Appa was scared of being under ground, especially after he got trapped in the mountain in the Earth Kingdom. You could see that it wasn't working. He would have to fly, even if it wasn't the safer option.

     "This isn't working," Aang says, frustrated, "I'll take Appa and fly."

     "It's too dangerous!" Katara insisted.

     "It's even more dangerous staying here like sitting ducks!" you yell back, over the noise of the airships and the crumbling temple.

      "She's right," Toph says.

      "Haru, take the others to safety through the tunnel," Aang said, "We'll fly to safety on Appa."

      Haru nodded and began to earth bend his way, with the others, through the air bending temple- he closed the tunnel behind him so that they couldn't be followed. Aang watched them go, and then turned back to the gang. They all began to climb onto Appa. Sokka looked behind him, when he realised you and Zuko weren't with the others on Appa. His eyes widened as he watched Zuko jump from the cliff towards the airships and towards his sister- also towards the huge fire balls!

     "What are you doing?" Sokka yelled to you.

     "I have to help him! Zuko needs my help! You lot go ahead- we'll catch up!" you reply, looking away from Sokka towards Zuko, "Besides you guys need a distraction!"

     Aang hesitated looking down at you, but you nodded. He nodded back then told Appa 'yip yip' and the bison began to fly through the collapsing rubble. You watched them fly upwards in an effort to avoid the blasts of fire Azula and her soldier were firing their way. You looked to the edge of the cliff and then to the airships, before taking a running start. Using blasts of fire from your hands, you launch yourself further into the air. Zuko's head turned when he heard the sound of your footsteps running along the crumbling ground. His eyes widened.

     He told you to stay behind!

     This wasn't part of his plan!

     What if you got hurt?

     His mind was racing a million miles an hour, but he tried to stay focused on Azula. He knew she'd use you against him; she was always very aware of his soft spot for you. Even as a child, he'd try and shield you from Azula. She quickly caught on, and from then on enjoyed teasing him about his precious Y/N, and then she'd go onto describe what she'd do to you if she ever caught you alone and unawares. From then on, his effort to keep you away from Azula (even as you grew older and more capable) became even more conscious. That hadn't changed. Even now. Even as you were risking your life for him and the gang. He still feared losing you- especially to his sister.

      "What are you doing here?!" Zuko yelled across the air ships.

      "What does it look like?!" you reply back, "I'm helping you dumbass! This is dangerous- I'm not letting you do it on your own!"

      Zuko tries not to freak out too much, but his attention is immediately drawn away by a large ball of fire heading his way. He dodges it narrowly and jumps to the next air ship. He quickly looks back to you- and luckily you're safe. You acknowledge him with a smile and then slide down the side of the air ship with a blade-like-flame, cutting down the side of the ship. The hull of the ship rips with a severe noise, and you can feel the ship start to spiral down. You use the side of the ship to boost yourself onto the next one.

      Between the two of you, you made quick work of the air ships. It was made ever more difficult, though, with the interference of Azula. She was a powerful bender, even at such a young age. And, with the top tier training she'd received in the heart of the fire nation, with the nation's greatest fire benders, it was no surprise that she was putting up quite a fight.

     "I don't think we can last much longer," you shouted over to Zuko, "We need to get out of here!"

     "Where's Aang?" Zuko agreed.

     "Up there," you pointed.

     "We're going to have to j-"

     Before Zuko could finish the word 'jump', you were both forced off the side of the air ship by another powerful ball of fire sent from Azula. In the process she was forced backwards. Luckily, when you were launched off of the ship, Aang was ready with Appa to catch you both. You landed with a thud on Appa's saddle, and looked back.

     "She's not going to make it," Zuko said quietly.

      Azula pulled out her hair pin, and dug it deep into the side of the cliff. Eventually she came to a halt, making eye contact with Zuko as she did.

     "Of course she did."

---

Things between you and Zuko had been different ever since you escape Azula. In fact, you suspected it started before that. Ever since he'd gone to the Boiling Rock with Sokka, something seemed different. Seemed off. You hadn't even had the chance to talk to him alone, yet. For you, it was only making the situation worse.

     You found yourself sitting alone on the beach. You'd eaten dinner with the others, and then excused yourself. Talk at dinner was lively, but you felt yourself shrink away from it. You hadn't seen Azula since you fled the fire nation; seeing her again was resurfacing old memories. Ones of her and you. Ones of you and Zuko. And, being at this house didn't help. Zuko and Azula used to come here all the time as kids. Sometimes Zuko would invite you. You had good memories here. However, now it felt so empty. You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts.

     Maybe that's why Zuko was being so strange; maybe he was going through what you were going through. Surely he wasn't having second thoughts about coming here? Or maybe it was just second thoughts about you?

     You were so wrapped up in your thoughts, you barely heard footsteps approaching you.

     "You didn't stay long at dinner," Zuko commented, sitting down beside you.

     You brought your knees up to your chest and sighed.

     "I didn't mean to leave you out there," you murmur, "I just didn't feel like I had much to say, that's all."

     "And, I thought being the moody one was my job," Zuko teases.

     You have a faint smile on your face.

     "You're not moody, you're angsty," you correct, "There's a difference."

     "There's a difference?"

     "Yeah, you're so much more dramatic than moody," you reply.

     Zuko shakes his head. You smile towards him, and he rolls his eyes playfully in response.

     "I'm just teasing," you promise.

    "I know," Zuko says calmly, and then he hesitates before speaking again, "Are you sure you're okay? We haven't talked just us-"

    "-I'm fine, Zuko. It's not... It's not anything serious. I'm just over reacting. I promise."

    Zuko is silent, and in that moment, you take it as a sign for you to continue. You've held it in for so long that you almost can't help to let all your emotions out.

    "It's just I... I feel like we haven't talked in a while. And seeing Azula today, it just brought up old memories. And, this place... I feel like it should be comforting, but its not. It just reminded me of what I don't have any more," you sigh, "I feel like something happened on the Boiling Rock. Something you're not telling me. Not that you have to tell me anything... I didn't want... I'm not trying... I... I don't know I feel like something has changed. Between us. You know what- just ignore me. Forgot what I said."

      You go to get up from where you're sitting, but Zuko puts his hand on yours and you stop.

      "I didn't mean to hide anything from you," Zuko sighed, "I didn't mean to make you feel like this."

      You looked down towards the waves lapping the sand.

      "I saw Mai. I saw Mai on Boiling Rock," Zuko confessed, "And... She saved me-us. She saved us by going against Azula. I've been feeling... Conflicted about it. I'm worried about her- and what Azula has done to her-"

      "-Oh."

       That's all you could say. Part of you felt heart broken because you had pressed so much- Zuko rarely talked about his feelings like this even to you. Part of you felt selfish for thinking the reason he was so distant was because of you. It was Mai. It had always been Mai and it was always be Mai.

     "I'm sure she's alright, Zuko. Her family's high standing will protect her," you say, placing a hand on his shoulder.

      You squeeze it lightly before standing up and walking back towards the house.

     "Wait," Zuko says, running up behind you.

     "I'm going to bed, Zuko," you murmur trying to walk quicker.

     "Y/N, wait, please, I'm not good with words... I don't-"

     "-Don't worry, Zuko. Mai is special. She's special to you," you smile up at him, "I'm happy you've found that."

     "No, that's not what I meant. Y/N, please. Mai is special, but so are you. She's not my special- you're... Ugh, I'm not good with words... I..." Zuko huffs, frustrated.

      You look up at him, confused, "I'm special?"

       "Yes," he nods, "You've always been special to me. More than anyone else. You always have been. I- When I was banished, you came with me; you've always been by my side. Even when I didn't deserve. Even when I didn't deserve you..."

       "Zuko... I..."

       "You don't have to feel the same, but I just want you to-"

       You lean up and press your hand against his cheek. He stops speaking but his lips part before he gently gulps. You look up at him for permission, and he nods. In this moment, he might just agree to anything you asked of him. But, for now, all you ask of him is a kiss. He gladly accepts. You gently place your lips on his, and he kisses back.

      "How long have you felt like this?" you ask him.

     "A life time."

      You smile: so dramatic you think. But, then again, you always did like a bit of dramatic flare in your life.

[ultimatetornshipper]

Daminette December Day 1

Daminette December Day 1

@daminette-december2019-2020

Hiii, so i guess I’m doing this, so I’m gonna make a few of the prompts part of a series, I’m gonna make between 2 and 3 series, I’ll give each one their own name so everyone can tell the difference because some prompts just won’t work in the medieval au I’m using for the first series, but I’m very excited for this, I mean I might get behind later in the month or post a day late but I’m pretty excited. Anyway I hope you guys enjoy it!!

Princes and Pedestals

Chapter 1 – Inspiration

Next:

Marinette walked down the hall, behind Fu, zoning him out for the most part. She’d heard this speech a million times.

‘You represent the Order. You are our Grand Guardian. Appearances are crucial. Be polite, be pretty, be perfect,’ he always said, or well, that’s what it boiled down to in the end. But his personal favorite line was never left out of any of his lectures.

“But above all inspire them to be good, Marinette, that is your purpose,” he said now. She bit back a tired sigh.

He came to a stop and told her to wait in front of the two large wooden doors.

Inspiration. That’s all she was. A symbol of hope, of perfection. It’s been years since she was allowed to just be human.

The doors open and she plastered on her perfected fake smile. She walked in and curtsied to the Royal family of Gotham.

She stared at the floor for a few seconds and kept her head bowed as she gathered herself. Marinette swallowed her tears as she looked up at them.

Since she was also basically Royalty she was allowed to make eye contact after properly greeting.

She looked at them. King Bruce of Gotham sat in the middle. On his left was the empty chair of his wife, Queen Selina. On his right sat his eldest son, Prince Richard Gray. Next to Richard sat the empty chair of Lord Timothy of Drake, he and the Queen were in Gotham, they’d gone back earlier than the rest due to undisclosed circumstances. Next to Timothy’s chair, sat his betrothed, Lady Stephanie of Brown. Next to Queen Selina's open chair sat Prince Jason Todd. And next to Jason sat Princess Cassandra. Finally next to her sat Prince Damian.

While the others didn’t make eye contact, he caught he gaze immediately and she felt her breath catch in her throat.

She could all but see the Destruction radiating off of him. He was a true holder of the Black Cat. The chaos and destruction in him screamed out to her.

But she just barely registered those facts.

Because unlike his family, who had blue eyes...

His were green.

Another eerily similar but completely different green gaze flitted through her mind-

She pulled her eyes away. If she looked any longer she’d remember more. And if she remembered any more she wasn’t sure she’d make it out the door.

She registered Fu speaking and introducing her, he was explaining things, stating the basics of their case.

The Order wanted an alliance with their kingdom, and by extension, the League of Justice.

She zoned out and focused on her breathing. She pushed against the memories of a certain Black Cat. She pushed all thoughts of him away but the more she pushed the more they assaulted her.

Blonde hair and the brightest smile she’d seen in years. Green eyes that shone like grass in a meadow. Her heart clenched.

It was the lack of destruction in him that lead to his death.

But here was a man, their age, with chaos and destruction to spare.

It wasn’t fair, a part of her whispered desperately.

She swallowed the tears and took a few deep breaths. Marinette refocused her attention on the conversation.

They’d stay at their summer castle with the family and depending on negotiations, return with them to Gotham to finalize their alliance in any way King Bruce saw fit.

She felt a few gazes on her as Fu spoke and the King replied. The guards, and some of the brothers and sisters on their thrones. But she didn’t dare look and take the risk of being caught in Prince Damian’s gaze. She knew she wouldn’t be able to stop the memories and the tears a second time.

They were probably curious about her black gown, it indicated that she was in mourning and that always got people curious. She was pretty young after all.

But she and- the two of them had been betrothed for three years when the Destruction stole him from her.

She only had a few days left before her mourning period was officially over.

Marinette, stop it! 

She took a deep breath, now was not the time for this.

She came to just in time to notice King Bruce turn his gaze to her, “Well it was an honor to meet you, Grand Guardian. I look forward to discussing the specifics of our alliance. Sir Pennyworth will show you to the rooms you’ll be staying in,” he gestured to an older man who stepped forward and offered her his arm.

She thanked the King and took the man's arm, noticing some of his children’s surprise.

She let Sir Pennyworth escort her to her new chambers.

“I think you will come to quite like it here, Your Majesty,” he said to her, when they were out of earshot, “I can imagine that it is quite lonely up on that pedestal of yours,”

She was so surprised at his blunt disregard for etiquette that it took her a moment to register what he said.

Then she recognized the traces of Duusu's miraculous on him. Ah, an old holder. The kwami of emotion always did leave quite a mark on her holders.

After a few more seconds she realized that she didn’t mind his casualty. She didn’t mind that he had pushed her title aside and treated her... like she was normal.

“You have no idea,” she replied so softly that she didn’t think he heard her, until he squeezed her hand.

They came to a stop in front of the room she realized must be hers, he opened the door and let go of her arm, “If you ever need anything just ask for Alfred, Your Majesty,”

She smiled at him, “Please call me Marinette,”

He smiled back and Marinette had a feeling that he was going to be right about her enjoying her time there.

[marvel-and-mischief]

His Saving Grace Part VII

Title: His Saving Grace - Maxwell Lord x F!Reader Words: 3600 Warnings: conversation about feelings, reader talks about her dark thoughts in the past, kissing, detailed description of a panic attack Synopsis: You meet with Diana to discuss Maxwell’s options.

His Saving Grace Masterpost

The Smithsonian looked a lot different in the day, the imposing building loomed over you as you walked up the front steps. You knew it wasn’t the museum that was making you nervous, but the job you had to do and the woman you had to meet. 

Maybe you should have ran the idea by Maxwell first, but a part of you knew he would be hesitant. After what you had seen on the night of the gala, Maxwell had been uncomfortable in Diana’s presence, and Diana was confrontational when she walked over to him. They obviously weren’t friends. 

But it was literally your job to get Maxwell back into the workplace, and if this didn’t work, and you didn’t manage to convince him that it was the ideal solution, then you didn’t know what you were going to do. 

You asked for Diana Prince at the information desk and was told by the man at the desk where she worked, pointing in the general direction of a staircase (you think) before answering a ringing telephone and dismissing you.

Trying to find your way to the Anthropology Department without a helpful staff member, or a map, was confusing and you ended up walking back on yourself more than a few times but you got to Diana’s office eventually. 

You were about to knock when the door flung open, Diana pausing just before bumping into you, a look of confusion on her face as she tried to remember where she’d seen you before.

“Diana isn’t it? I’m Maxwell’s friend, we met at the gala,” you said casually and stuck out your hand towards her, reminding her of your name. She took it after a moment, shaking your hand and politely laughing. If she was wary of you being at her place of work she didn’t let on, instead she ushered you into her office and offered you a cold coffee which you gladly took.

“Look, I don’t know what Maxwell has told you but as long as he stays out of trouble, he will never hear from me again.” 

Diana sat on one end of a velvety soft, maroon loveseat and you took a seat on the other end. 

“Actually, I’m hoping that won’t be true,” you began, cradling your cold coffee on your lap, “you must have some idea that Maxwell is struggling. Black Gold is bust and it will never recover. No one will hire Maxwell Lord, for obvious reasons.”

“I don’t see how I can help him. I sympathise, but Maxwell is reaping the repercussions of what he sowed. You can understand why no one wants to help him,” Diana spoke to you gently, offering you a sympathetic smile. 

You sighed as you looked around her office, a poster of human evolution, an old wind instrument that reminded you of the recorder you were taught to play at school, a long piece of parchment paper with what you could only guess were hieroglyphics or something similar. And on the wall next to where you sat was a diagram of a stone of some sort. 

“Maxwell got his stone from here, right?”

Diana nodded but said no more.

“A Dreamstone?”

“Whatever Maxwell has told you, it needs to stay a secret.”

“Diana, the whole world saw him use it.”

“The world saw a madman,” at your look of offence Diana shook her head, “I’m telling you what everybody saw, not who he actually is. And that is my point.”

You weren’t going to get into an argument with Diana about the Maxwell you knew, not right now anyway, so you bit your tongue.

“But he has ties to this place.”

Diana thought for a moment, starting to understand that you weren’t going to give up easily. She slowly nodded, eyeing you curiously and weighed up how much she should say about what had gone down with Maxwell and the Dreamstone.

“Maxwell only has ties to the Smithsonian because he wanted the stone. He befriended a gemologist, Barbara Minerva, to get to it. He succeeded and then he became the stone. And I presume you know the rest.”

It took you a second to realise that Diana had said “he became the stone” but you filed it to the back of your mind for another time. Or maybe you would never bring it up. If you wanted Maxwell to get passed this part of his life, you would have to stop asking questions eventually. 

“So let me get this straight, because he was the Maxwell Lord he could just walk into this place and take what he wanted?”

“Well, he was very persuasive. Plus he gave a lot of money to the department as a bribe.”

“So he’s given money to the museum before?” The cogs were starting to turn in your head as you realised it could work in Maxwell’s favor if he’s already shown support for the Smithsonian.

Diana tilted her head as she watched you, trying to work out what you were planning. She was clever enough to realise almost instantly.

“You can’t seriously be suggesting that Maxwell work here?”

“I am! He’s already proven his loyalty to the museum through a donation I assume was considerable. I’m sure it helped the museum a lot.”

Diana hesitantly nodded, knowing the money was much larger than any benefactor had given to the museum in years. She sighed in frustration and stood, walking over to her desk to rifle through a pile of papers. You placed your forgotten coffee on the table and followed. 

“I know he can’t work in any of these departments. But he has a business degree, he’s got the experience. He’s someone the museum would jump at the chance to have work here.”

Diana laughed cynically.

“You said yourself, nobody will hire him, what makes you think we will?”

“I said no one will hire Maxwell Lord. But what about Maxwell Lorenzano?”

Diana looked up from her papers and gave you a quizzical look.

“He wants a fresh start and I think I can persuade him to leave the Lord name behind.” You swallowed the lump in your throat, wondering if you were overstepping. Maxwell had said to you at the diner that he wanted to be more like his old self, maybe this was the way forward? 

It wasn’t unlike you, as a lawyer, to be persuasive to get the results you wanted, the results you thought were best for your clients. But Maxwell wasn’t a client, not in your heart. He was your friend, and hopefully more in the future. Were you being too pushy, putting out the idea of him changing back to his birth name? Even though he’d suggested that very thing to you at the diner? 

You were starting to realise why it was frowned upon to begin relationships with clients, it made everything so complicated, it had you second guessing everything you were saying and doing whilst working for them. Because it wasn’t about getting results for the pay check at the end of the job, it was about getting results for the man you loved. It was about wanting the best for him, wanting him to be pleased with you and everything you were doing for him. 

“Are you okay?” Diana’s voice jolted you out of your spiralling thoughts and had you laughing awkwardly.

“I’m fine,” your smile didn’t quite meet your eyes, but you cleared your throat as you pointed to the papers she was looking through, silently asking her to explain.

“There was a list of job vacancies the boss sent around to everybody on Friday, it was here somewhere… a-ha!” Diana produced the single piece of paper with titles and one-sentence job descriptions on it.

“Is there anything appropriate for Maxwell?” You asked hopefully, going on tip toes to try and peep over the paper. Diana shook her head as she read down the page, coming to a stop right at the bottom.

“Although…”

“What is it?” You asked, a little too forcefully. Too impatient to wait a moment longer you snatched the piece of paper from Diana’s fingers and skimmed through the titles until you saw the very last one.

“Do you think-“

“It’s perfect,” you shot Diana a beaming smile, “will you-“

“I’ll let the boss know I have the perfect guy for the job.”

-

Maxwell nervously shuffled from foot to foot outside your apartment door, holding a bouquet of wildflowers in his hands, similar to the ones you wore on your dress the night of the gala. His polo shirt felt too tight on him all of a sudden, and he wasn’t sure if he should button all four buttons or leave it at two. 

The issue wasn’t that he had never been to your apartment before, or even that he was visiting unannounced, but entering into a new relationship. With you.

He loved you. He realised that at the gala when he watched you charming potential clients, giving away business cards until you had ran out of them, it had filled him with such a sense of pride that you had walked in on his arm. It wasn’t a slow realisation either. It was when he was seeing people notice you, laugh with you, agree with your advice, and then he thought yes, see this brilliant woman who can make your dreams come true? I love her. 

It didn’t scare Maxwell, quite the opposite. He was excited. Because you both worked so well together already. It was all so natural, the way you joked with him over lunch, or grabbed his hand in the middle of conversation. And the kissing.

Maxwell hadn’t kissed anyone the way he’d kissed you in… forever. It was a kiss that lit a burning flame in his heart, warm in every way but persistent and wouldn’t burn out until you reignited it with another. He felt the ghost of your lips on his, even in his dreams and he would wake up with a smile on his face, ready to start the new day in the hopes that he would see you soon. 

He felt young again, in a wide eyed, fresh faced kind of way. Like the world was his for the taking because he had you by his side to keep him grounded but also an encouraging voice in his ear telling him he could do anything if he just believed in himself. 

Maxwell wished he’d met you so much sooner. Before the seed of the Dreamstone had been planted in his mind and he’d gone on his reign of self destruction. He thinks you would have been able to stop him, to persuade him that he had everything he needed already. You could have helped him through the financial difficulties of Black Gold. You would have saved him. 

Maxwell shook his head of that thought and readjusted his collar. He couldn’t change the past. He could only look to the future.

He knocked on the door, realising he probably should have called before coming over. You might be working, or have friends over, or not be in at all-

The door flew open and you appeared, holding a wooden spoon in your hand and wearing an apron tied at the front covered in what looked and smelled like cocoa powder.

“Maxwell? What’re you doing here?” You asked, surprised to see him at your door.

“I should have called ahead, I apologise-“

“Don’t be silly. How many times have I come over to yours without warning? Come in,” you pointed towards the living room with your spoon and closed the door behind you. 

Maxwell let you lead him into the open plan area. It was smaller than Maxwell’s apartment but the layout was almost the same. The furnishings however were trying to be less impressive, more rustic with dark, wooden furniture instead of brightly colored plastic. It was comfortable and had a homely feel to it that Maxwell didn’t realise he liked until now. There were papers strewn across the coffee table, bookshelves actually filled with books unlike his own, dozens of blankets laid across the top of the couch, coffee stains on side tables. It was a perfect mix of your head and your heart. Smart and kind. Hard working but also relaxed. 

You went into the kitchen area, pulling open the oven and the smell of freshly baked chocolate cookies filled the air. Maxwell’s stomach rumbled but luckily you were too busy to hear. It was then that Maxwell remembered the flowers in his hand.

“I brought you flowers,” Maxwell placed them on top of the island, perching on a stool.

“Thank you, that’s very sweet,” you picked them up and went searching for a vase in the cupboards. You found a decanter with a thick neck and decided that would be sufficient, filling it with water from the tap and placing the flowers inside to display on the countertop.

“I wanted to talk to you about some things,” Maxwell cleared his throat and interlocked his hands together on top of the island, “about my future.”

“Yes,” you nodded, taking a seat on a stool opposite Maxwell, “I think I have a plan, the next step, maybe even permanently if you agree to it.”

“Can we talk about us first?”

You froze in your spot, ready with your speech that would sell your plan to him, but you could see he had come over for a reason and decided to let him talk first. 

“I said I wanted to take things slow, and I still do. But I need things to be clear, out in the open so you know where I stand,” as much as Maxwell was nervous he kept eye contact with you, “I love you. I’m falling in love with you. These last couple of months have opened my eyes to how lonely and alone I am. And I’m not using that as an excuse for what I did but if I am going to succeed in being a good father, a good man, then I need you by my side. I think the world of you and everything you’ve done for me and I promise to try and make it up to you in any way I can.”

Your smile grew the more Maxwell talked, hearing everything you’d hoped he would say. You were on the same page, wanted the same things. Maxwell patiently waited for you to respond, even though the butterflies in his stomach were threatening to painfully burst out of him.

“Maxwell Lorenzano, I love you too.” You laughed, tears welling in your eyes, your chest full of happiness that things were looking up for the both of you. 

You wiped at your eyes with the bottom of the apron you were still wearing, then placed both your hands over the top of his.

“You say I’ve helped you but you have no idea how much you’ve helped me too. I was at the bottom of a very dark pit of self hatred before I met you. And although I was getting better, I don’t know what would have happened in my life if you hadn’t called me that day. I’m not sure if I believe in fate or destiny or anything like that but I believe we met each other at the perfect moment so we could help each other through the worst time of our lives. And if we can pull each other out of that then we can do anything together.”

Maxwell’s watery smile grew as he stood from his stool and walked around the island to stand next to you. He leaned down and placed a chaste kiss to the top of your head, before placing another on the tip of your nose that had you giggling. You stood and used the sudden closeness to press a bold kiss to his lips, hands running through his hair as his hands came to naturally place themselves in the dip of your waist.

Maxwell pulled away to place small kisses to the corner of your mouth, tasting the remnants of the chocolate mixture you must have tasted whilst baking your cookies. When he got to your jaw he felt your hands on his shoulders gently pushing him away, an apologetic look in your eyes.

“I still need to talk to you about the plan I’ve put together.”

Maxwell groaned, keeping a hold of your waist as he playfully tickled the soft skin of your neck with his nose.

“Maxwell…” you chuckled, enjoying this playful side of Maxwell.

“You’re ruining the fun,” Maxwell removed his head from your neck and pouted. You tried to take him seriously but he looked like a grumpy child who had been told ‘no more sweets’. You kissed him sweetly on the cheek and motioned towards the couch in the living room. 

His sigh was overly exaggerated as he took a seat on the couch. You had taken off your apron in the kitchen and sat next to Maxwell with a yellow sweater on, sleeves rolled up to the elbows. In amongst the rustic aesthetic of the living room, you looked like actual sunshine to Maxwell. 

“I tried to find you a job that I thought you’d like, that wouldn’t necessarily be easy but would use your previous skills and still challenge you.”

You took a piece of paper from the side table and handed it to Maxwell. It detailed a job description, the kinds of jobs he’d be taking on and with what departments, and the key skills he would be using. Maxwell nodded the whole way through until he spotted where he would be working.

“The Smithsonian?” He asked, unsure and a little take aback that this would be the place you’d choose considering his connections to the place. 

“Yes, it was much easier to find you a job at a place you’d already given a sizeable donation to,” you explained gently, you ran your fingernails along the lines in the palm of your hand, a nervous habit as you tried to gauge Maxwell’s reaction. 

“I don’t know,” Maxwell re-read over the job description, which he was comfortable with, the annual salary that was more than enough to look after himself and Alistair, the job title ‘Financial Manager’ was more than suitable for his qualifications, everything was perfect, except the place of work. He would run into Diana probably, and was Barbara still working there? That would be awkward. That place held bad memories, Maxwell was trying to move away from his past not shoot head first towards it. 

“Look, you would mostly be working in the offices away from other departments, Diana said-“

“You spoke to Diana?” Of course you had, how would this job be practically given to him without so much as an interview without Diana’s help? Maxwell eyed you suspiciously, wondering how much she’d told you about the incident, how much you’d told her about Maxwell’s situation. He trusted you, he loved you, there was no love without trust but he suddenly felt like the walls of your apartment were closing in on him and the piece of paper in his hand was shaking as though an earthquake was ripping through the building.

“Maxwell?” He heard your voice but it was so far away, where had you gone? It was like listening to someone shouting from the other end of a tunnel, had you left him? Maxwell’s eyes were closed tightly shut so he couldn’t see where you’d gone but he felt something soft and warm on either side of his face, and then his face was being pressed into something fluffy, it felt like how your sweater looked, was it you? 

Your voice was getting clearer and his breathing was slowing down though he didn’t remember breathing so fast, why was he struggling to breathe? 

Your hands, he could feel them now, moving over his shoulders, along his back, up and down his upper arms and the fog was slowly lifting from his mind, from his lungs, and there were tears falling from his eyes. And all he could hear were your apologies and his name leaving your lips. Your sweet lips that felt so good against his own, they were touching his ear as you spoke soothing words, he concentrated on that and then everything was clear. 

He cautiously pulled away from you, just enough to see you looking at him full of concern. Maxwell placed his large hand against your cheek and guided you to press your foreheads together as he continued to breathe through the panic attack. 

“I’m so sorry Maxwell,” you whispered but Maxwell shushed you softly, stroking your cheek, your hair, your neck until he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and brought you into a hug.

“You are perfect and have nothing to be sorry for,” he said, holding you close until he believed you were truly there and not a hallucination created out of his panic stricken mind, “it just all suddenly felt very real. I think I’m scared.”

He felt you nod against his chest, your hand was running up and down his side, soothing him, comforting him in any way that you could. You were nearly lying on top of him; Maxwell had leaned you both backwards, his head resting on the corner of the couch as he tried to relax and prevent another panic attack.

“I’m here. You don’t have to do any of this on your own. Or at all, I’ll call Diana and tell her the job isn’t suited to you. We’ll find something else.”

“No,” that made you look up from his chest, searching his eyes for what he meant, “it’s the kind of job I’d be good at. I just have to remember that I’m not alone.”

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, holding each other close, but by the time you tried the cookies they were cold. 

Permanent tag list: @autumnleaves1991-blog @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @galactic-rhi @phoenixhalliwell @thewayofthemandalorian @computeringturtle @lesbianlena @shikin83 

[mrs-dr-reid]

She Used to Be Mine

(A Criminal Minds Fic)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Summary: The reader finally left her scum of the earth boyfriend of a year and a half, and she finds out she’s pregnant with his baby when the team gets done with a case. She lets out her frustrations about the whole situation during an open mic night at a bar, not knowing the rest of the team is there, too, and has to explain what’s been going on with her.

Genre: Oof, this is some painful stuff here, buddy. Maybe a little fluff at the end? I dunno.

Warnings: Minor language, mentions of abuse, mentions of an unhealthy relationship, brief allusions to doing the do, mentions of unwanted pregnancy, slight mentions of normal Criminal Minds stuff

A/N: I’m gonna apologize in advance for this one, guys. I’ve had “She Used to be Mine” from Waitress stuck in my head for like two days, and this came to me in a dream last night, so allow me to write out my brain vomit and slap it on the internet. Enjoy. Just a note, I have never seen or listened to Waitress in its entirety, I just know what this song is about and am writing this solely based on that one song. (Also, Y/S/N means “Your Sister’s Name”. If you don’t have a sister, make one up if you’d like)

Word Count: 3514

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Y/N didn’t know how she let this happen. She kept telling herself that she was going to leave him. That their situation was only going to get worse. That if she didn’t get out of there soon she could potentially die, and she never did. She had gradually been transitioning more and more of her stuff out of the apartment and into the trunk of her car to make leaving easier, and she had packed up all her things of value into a suitcase and kept it stashed in the hall closet ready to go just in case, because the Lord knows he never even gave it a second glance. Then finally after two months of delaying the inevitable, a blow-out argument and a handful of shattered beer bottles finally gave her the push she needed, and she slammed the door of his apartment behind her and never looked back once while dragging her suitcase down the stairs and out the door of his building to her car.

Luckily Y/N’s older sister Y/S/N also lived in D.C., and she was more than happy to let Y/N stay at her place until she found somewhere for herself. Y/N didn’t even know how to tell the rest of the team about the breakup, but she was glad she wouldn’t have to cover up bruises with makeup and lackluster excuses anymore. Y/N decided to let them profile it out for themselves because she didn’t want to waste anymore time, energy, or thoughts on her ex ever again.

The next day at work, the entire team immediately picked up on a change in Y/N’s demeanor, but none of them acknowledged it and let Penelope present their latest case in Madison, Wisconsin without so much as a questioning glance towards her. Well, everyone but Spencer, that is. He had his head cocked like a confused puppy while squinting at Y/N the entire meeting. Emily had to snap her fingers in front of his face at least twice to get him to pay attention again, which made Y/N a little nervous, because she really didn’t want him to confront her, mainly because she knows it’s impossible for her to lie to him.

They got on the jet, and once they were in the air, Y/N suddenly felt really nauseous and made a mad dash for the bathroom, making everyone turn to shoot a confused and worried look in that direction. Once she slammed the door shut and locked it behind her, she threw open the lid of the toilet and had at it. After she had finished, she flushed away the vomit and reasoned that she probably had something past its date for breakfast that morning and brushed it off.

Throughout the whole case, Y/N had random bouts of nausea and had to excuse herself during really important stuff to go and find the bathroom. She even had to run out during a suspect interrogation leaving Emily to talk to the perp, and had to leave while they delivered the profile to avoid losing her lunch and crappy bullpen coffee all over the suspect and the local cops. The whole team was worried for her, but she insisted she was fine and kept working, much to Spencer’s chagrin, but he just let her do what she had to do, because he’d learned to not mess with Y/N when she’s on a roll the hard way.

After they had caught the unsub and saved the would-have-been victim, Y/N found herself fighting back her own tears as she comforted the poor, traumatized girl, which was weird because that had never happened before. Once the team had packed up and got in the SUVs to head to the airfield, they had to stop at a gas station right before they left the town. Y/N grabbed her wallet and said, “I gotta take a bathroom break before we get out of here,” and both JJ and Emily nodded before she got out of the car and went into the store. 

Y/N went straight for the pregnancy tests and grabbed a box of three before heading to the counter and paying, because she had a hunch she needed to prove. She went to the bathroom, and took all three once she locked herself in a stall. She set them on top of the toilet paper dispenser thing and timed two minutes on her watch. Once the two minutes were up, she took a deep breath and grabbed the tests. Y/N almost passed out when she saw that all three read “positive”, but that’s when she realized her period was a couple of weeks late.

After that realization, she smacked her head against the wall of the stall, because she knew exactly how she’d gotten pregnant: Her stupid, lowkey abusive, borderline alcoholic ex had somehow convinced her to go with him to a sports bar to meet his stupid, annoying, borderline alcoholic friends and watch some sports game three weeks ago, they’d both gotten decently drunk, and she woke up the next morning with a killer hangover and without clothes.

Y/N took a picture of the tests on her phone in case someone on the team profiled it out of her and she needed receipts, then threw them in the little stall trash can before getting out of the stall, washing her hands, and going back out to the SUVs. JJ and Emily shot her looks as she climbed into the car because she was gone for a while, but they just assumed it was #1 and #2 and didn’t say anything.

She was silent and stared out the window the entire flight back, which didn’t go unnoticed by Spencer, who left his beloved jet couch to plop down across from her at the single seater table. She stopped looking out the window and saw him doing his signature awkward smile, which made a small smile spread across her face before she said, “Hey, Spence. What’s up?”, so he said, “Are you okay, Y/N/N? You’ve been throwing up all week, and I don’t think that’s all that healthy.”

Y/N sighed and said, “I’m fine, Spence. I probably just haven’t been eating as much as my body would like me to, and the bullpen coffee agitated my stomach. I’m totally fine,” then reached across the table and grabbed his hand before saying, “Thank you for worrying, though. I appreciate you a ton. You know that, right?”, making him smile and say, “Yeah, I know. You’re welcome,” before getting up and going back to his couch, Y/N’s smile growing a little wider as she watched him go.

Once the team was back at Quantico, Y/N plopped down at her desk and started doing her paperwork, but Hotch came out of his office and said, “That was a rough case, everyone. The paperwork can wait until tomorrow, call it a night for now,” so Y/N shrugged and grabbed her bag off the floor and headed to the elevator, holding it open for everyone as the team piled in while expressing their relief at the early night.

Flash forward to the weekend, and Y/N is hanging out with Y/S/N (who is the only person who knows she’s pregnant) at their favorite bar in Logan Circle. It was open mic night, and Y/N decided that the best way to get her emotions out was to do a song. There was a piano, and she’d thankfully memorized how to play “She Used to Be Mine” from Waitress when she went on a musical theater kick. So she calmly sipped on a Shirley Temple and talked with her sister while she waited for her name to be called.

After about four people did what they wanted to do, the lady running the show called out, “Up next, Miss Y/N L/N who will be playing the piano and singing a song for us!”, so Y/N stood up and walked onto the stage before sitting down at the piano and adjusting the mic. She said, “This song is called ‘She Used to Be Mine’ from Waitress,” before playing the interlude and starting to sing:

“It's not simple to say

That most days I don't recognize me

That these shoes and this apron

That place and its patrons

Have taken more than I gave them

It's not easy to know

I'm not anything like I used be, although it's true

I was never attention's sweet center

I still remember that girl”

What Y/N didn’t know is that the team get-together Penelope organized she declined attending to hang out with Y/S/N was taking place at that exact bar, and they were at a booth right near the stage watching her performance. Penelope had instantly grabbed Derek’s arm in worry when Y/N had announced the title of the song, and when questioned about it, she said, “That’s probably the saddest song in the whole musical! In the show, the main character Jenna’s abusive husband takes all the money she’d been saving for the baby she didn’t want to have, and she sings this song because she feels like she’s lost complete control of her life and doesn’t know who she is anymore,” making everyone exchange looks before looking back at the stage to watch Y/N perform:

“She's imperfect, but she tries

She is good, but she lies

She is hard on herself

She is broken and won't ask for help

She is messy, but she's kind

She is lonely most of the time

She is all of this mixed up and baked in a beautiful pie

She is gone, but she used to be mine”

Y/N kept singing, and as she did, she felt just like Jenna did in the musical: critical of herself for allowing a person like her ex to keep her locked in their relationship for way longer than she should have, and scared because she was going to be a mother, and no way was she allowing her scumbag ex to be a part of her son or daughter’s life.

“It's not what I asked for

Sometimes life just slips in through a back door

And carves out a person and makes you believe it's all true

And now I've got you

And you're not what I asked for

If I'm honest, I know I would give it all back

For a chance to start over and rewrite an ending or two”

Spencer could hardly believe what he was hearing. If he had an inkling that she might be pregnant before, this all but confirmed his mind that she was, but she’d have given anything to not be, which broke his heart a little. He took another sip of club soda (designated driver), and kept watching Y/N as she sang her heart out:

“For that girl that I knew

Who’d be reckless, just enough

Who gets hurt, but who learns how to toughen up

When she's bruised and gets used by a man who can't love

And then she'll get stuck

And be scared of the life that's inside her

Growing stronger each day 'til it finally reminds her

To fight just a little, to bring back the fire in her eyes

That's been gone, but used to be mine

Used to be mine”

JJ let out a tiny gasp at the “man who can’t love” line, and she whispered, “I knew she was covering bruises up. Why didn’t she tell us?”, but nobody had an answer for her. As Y/N sang the last part, all of her emotions came crashing down on her, and she barely made it through without bursting into tears:

“She is messy, but she’s kind

She is lonely most of the time

She is all of this mixed up and baked in a beautiful pie

She is gone, but she used to be mine”

Y/N was met with a standing ovation, and when she stood up to take a bow, her blood went cold when she saw the team sitting at their booth with heartbroken looks on their faces. She pretended she didn’t notice, then went to sit down with Y/S/N again, doing her best to avoid making eye contact with any of them, especially Spencer.

Y/S/N noticed the team staring at them, and she said, “Hey, Y/N/N. I think your friends from work want to talk to you,” which made Y/N let out a tiny groan before saying, “Fine,” and getting up to go over to the team’s booth. She put on a fake smile and said, “Hey, guys! I didn’t expect to see you here! How’s your night been?”, but she could tell her attempt at dodging the bullet didn’t work because Penelope was still about three seconds away from crying.

Y/N let out a sigh, then said, “Okay, fine. I can explain everything. I broke up with my awful boyfriend, apparently I’m pregnant with his kid, yes I’m keeping it, and no I am not allowing him to be a part of this baby’s life because he was horrible to me and that wouldn’t change if he had a child,” leaving the entire team speechless.

Emily said, “Why didn’t you tell us? We could have done something to help you!”, so Y/N burst out, “Because I was embarrassed, Em! I was embarrassed that I let it get that far, and I didn’t want anybody to know. The only person I told about any of this is my sister because I’m living with her right now until I can find my own place, because I used to live with my ex,” making a single tear fall down Penelope’s cheek, and Spencer look at her with an emotion in his eyes Y/N had never seen before.

Everyone else shot her looks of both sadness and encouragement, so she nodded before going back over to her sister and saying, “Can we go home now? I think I’m all partied out,” so Y/S/N said, “Yeah, sure! I’ll pay our bill, you can go wait in the car,” making her nod and grab her coat before walking out the door, doing her best to avoid eye contact.

A few hours later, Y/N was hanging out on the couch at the apartment catching up on paperwork after her sister had gone in for a shift at the hospital when her phone started ringing. She picked it up to see that it was Spencer, which confused her because he’s more of a text kind of guy. She answered and said, “Hey, Spence. What’s up?”, so he said, “Hey, Y/N/N. Can I come over?”, which made her say, “Yeah, sure! I’ll text you my sister’s address and apartment number, and I’ll stay close to the door to buzz you in,” before they bid their goodbyes and hung up.

About fifteen minutes later, the buzzer went off, so Y/N got up and pressed the button before saying, “Spencer?”, earning his reply of, “Yeah, it’s me,” so she said, “Come on up. The door’s unlocked,” before letting him into the building. Spencer came in the door, and before Y/N could even say anything, he snatched her into a tight hug and buried his face in her shoulder. Y/N didn’t really know how to react at first, but she accepted the hug and nestled her face into Spencer’s neck.

Spencer said, “I’m so sorry we weren’t there for you,” so Y/N released her grip on him and said, “No, I’m sorry I didn’t let you guys be there for me. I let my pride get in the way, and I definitely paid the price. I promise I won’t hide things from you guys anymore. It helps no one if I’m not honest with you,” which made Spencer smile at her.

Y/N said, “Can I get you anything? Coffee?”, so Spencer said, “Yeah, coffee sounds great,” making Y/N smile before saying, “You take your cream and sugar with a little coffee, right?”, and she heard him let out a slight chuckle as she went into the kitchen. She put on a pot of boiling water, then grabbed out everything she needed to make Spencer a cup of coffee as well as her favorite green tea, because she knew that she’d receive a lecture about drinking coffee while pregnant from her favorite boy genius and she didn’t want to deal.

Y/N got two mugs out of her cupboard, and after she fixed everything up, she brought the mugs into the living room where Spencer was sitting on the couch. They sat and talked about life for a while until Spencer finally said, “So... when did you find out?”, so Y/N said, “When we stopped at that gas station for a pitstop in Madison. I bought three tests, then took them in the bathroom. All three of them were positive, and while it shouldn’t have shocked me, it did,” making Spencer nod in understanding.

He was silent for a little bit, then he said, “Are you sure you’re gonna keep the baby?”, so Y/N took a long sip of tea before saying, “Yes. At the end of the day, this baby is still 50% me, and I want to give them the best life I can when he or she arrives. It may be the byproduct of one of the worst periods of time in my life, but that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna take this little blessing in disguise for granted,” and rubbing her tummy.

Spencer smiled and said, “Henry’s gonna be really excited about having a playmate,” making Y/n say, “I don’t doubt it,” before chuckling slightly. There was a comfortable silence for a moment or two, then Spencer cleared his throat before saying, “This is probably the last thing you want to hear after everything you’ve been through, but... I love you. I think I’ve loved you since May 21, 2009,” making Y/N’s eyes widen before she said, “That’s a week after I joined the team.”

Spencer said, “I know. I know, and I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. If I had, you wouldn’t have ended up with... him, and you wouldn’t be pregnant with his kid, and you wouldn’t have had to suffer at his hand for all that time without any of us realizing it, and...,” but Y/N put her hand over his mouth and said, “Spence, I’m gonna need you to shut up and listen to me for a minute, okay?”, making him nod and say, “Okay,” slightly muffled by her hand.

Y/N removed her hand, then said, “Spencer Reid, if you’ve loved me since May 21, 2009, I have to admit that I’ve loved you since May 22, 2009. The only reason I ever said yes to that... douche nozzle is because I didn’t think there was any chance in hell you’d be into me. Now that I know you have feelings for me, the only thing I’d want to change is instead of my ex being this baby’s father, I’d want it to be the scrawny boy genius I was lucky enough to be desk neighbors with,” making Spencer’s eyes well up with tears.

He scooted closer, and brought a hand up to Y/N’s cheek before whispering, “Can I...? Would it be alright if I kissed you?”, so Y/N whispered back, “Yes,” and Spencer leaned in before gently touching his lips to hers in one of the softest kisses she’d ever been given. Y/N’s hands found their way into Spencer’s hair, and she held him closer while scooting into his lap, making him smile against her lips and wrap his other arm around her waist.

When Y/N pulled her lips away, she rested her forehead against his and said, “When this baby arrives... If I asked you to be their father figure, would you do it?”, so Spencer’s eyes welled up again before he said, “You can ask me right now,” making Y/N smile. She said, “Will you be this child’s father figure?”, and Spencer said, “Absolutely,” before kissing her forehead and pulling her closer to him.

When Y/S/N got home, she stopped in the living room and had to pull out her phone, because Y/N and Spencer were fast asleep on the couch. Y/N was sprawled over Spencer’s chest and her face was nestled in the crook of his neck, and Spencer’s arms were draped loosely over her back to keep her close. Y/S/N took a picture of the adorable scene, then grabbed a blanket from the wicker basket they kept by the couch to drape it over their sleeping forms. As she walked to her room, she whispered, “Sweet dreams, Lovebirds,” a smile on her face as she did.

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Tag List: @agenthotchner​, @hurricanejjareau​, @xgoldentigerlilyx​, @therestisconfettis​, @less-intelligent-spencerreid​, @aryaarathornson​, @thomasgibsonfan01​

Let me know in the comments if you want to be added

[avtrkyoshis]

You Burn First (zuko x f!reader) pt. 3

hey guys this chapter took a lot longer than expected. stay tuned for chapter 4 and 5 because they’re gonna get spicy.

ao3 link & a special spotify playlist

masterlist // chapter 1 // chapter 2 // chapter 4

Y/n stretched her arms over her head, feeling the tension release from her stiff shoulders. She looked around her room as she shifted into a lunge and continued to stretch. Her new quarters in the palace were much bigger than she was used to. It made sense that she was provided with such luxuries, she was the Fire Lord’s personal bodyguard after all.

The days following her official position change had been busy. Not only had the security around the palace gotten stricter since the attack, but Y/n had been briefed on all of her new responsibilities. She’d been given a much more detailed tour of the palace and was shown some of the more hidden spots of the palace grounds. She was also given Zuko’s weekly schedule, as it was expected of her to attend all meetings and events with him. One glance at the packed timetable was enough to make her exhausted.

Strangely, Y/n was also given books on Fire Nation etiquette and history. On her first night as Zuko’s bodyguard, she’d briefly flipped through them and fought back a groan. She knew the Fire Nation was stuck up with their rules, but she’d never imagined it was this intense. Even under Zuko’s more lenient rule there was so much she needed to be aware of. She’d flopped back onto her ridiculously large bed and let herself drown in her homesickness. Y/n missed Kyoshi Island.

Despite her wanting to rebel and refuse these changes, Y/n never spoke up against it. She didn’t want to disrespect Suki or the Kyoshi Warriors. They had all agreed that she was the best person for this job and who was she to disobey. The Kyoshi Warriors are what Y/n prided herself on the most.

She flattened her body out to begin her push-ups and continue her work out. There was no point in dwelling on how she’d gotten here, she needed to focus on her job. If Y/n remembered correctly, she was meant to attend some meetings with Zuko today. She wasn’t meant to meet up with him for at least another hour, which gave her plenty of time to complete her morning routine.

A knock on her door startled Y/n out of her push-ups. She swore as she lost count of her reps and reached for a towel to wipe the sweat off of her face.

“Come in,” she called.

The door swung open to reveal Zuko, already dressed in his Fire Lord robes. He wore his hair mostly down today, save for the small bun atop his head that held his crown in place. Y/n had noticed that despite wearing it up most days, he preferred to wear his hair this way. She thought it looked better down anyway.

His nose was buried in a stack of papers as he walked towards her, brow furrowed in concentration. Y/n swung her towel over one shoulder and placed her hands on her hips.

“Something in those papers frustrating you?” she asked.

Zuko sighed, “It’s nothing very important, just some reports on how the current harvest is going. I try to devote my attention to every report that comes my way, but I can’t say I find wheat crops that interesting.”

Y/n couldn’t help the grin that slipped through her normally stoic features. She’d noticed that Zuko was a very attentive Fire Lord. He dedicated much of his time to his nation, addressing even the most minor complaint from an average citizen. Y/n respected that about him.

Her musing was interrupted by Zuko looking up from his stack of papers for the first time since entering her room. His eyes widened as he took in Y/n, dressed in her typical exercise clothes of shorts and an athletic top. She knew she was fit, but she was suddenly hyper-aware of her body as Zuko blatantly stared at her abs. All of the Kyoshi Warriors followed similar exercise routines that prepared them for the style of fighting they preferred. Y/n was used to seeing the other Kyoshi Warriors in similar states to the one she was currently in and being seen by them in the same way. However, the stare Zuko was giving her made her ears burn.  

“Um. Did you need something from me Fire Lord?” Y/n said.

Her sudden breaking of the silence shocked Zuko back to reality. He jumped, amber eyes darting to her face as a blush began to colour his cheeks. He cleared his throat and seemed very interested in the floor all of a sudden.

“Y-yes actually. I wanted to warn you about some of the meetings we’re meant to attend today.”

“Warn me?”

“Unfortunately, yes. We’re meeting with some high ranking officials in the Fire Nation today. I’m sure you’ve seen it in the books you were given, but the Fire Nation takes etiquette very seriously. Everything down to the order in which you introduce yourself will be important.” Zuko told her.

Y/n clenched her jaw. She had expected to be subjected to the judgement of Fire Nation officials eventually, but she didn’t expect it to be so soon. She exhaled harshly through her nose, suddenly feeling nervous.

Zuko seemed to sense her anxiety.

“Don’t stress over it too much. It’s not too many people and I’ll brief you on what to say while we walk over,” he said. He paused and his expression softened a bit. “Just trust me. You may be my bodyguard but I won’t let any of these stuffy old men push you around.”

He smirked suddenly, the kindness in his eyes shifting to playfulness.

“Besides, anything you do wrong will reflect poorly on me. I can’t have anyone spreading rumours about the Fire Lord’s disrespectful bodyguard.”

Y/n scoffed and rolled her eyes at him. If she’d done that in front of anyone else, she knew they would’ve been in shock. Blatantly disrespecting the Fire Lord must be pretty high up on the list of things she wasn’t supposed to do as his bodyguard. Despite that, Zuko seemed to let her snarky comments slide.

“I’ll meet you in front of your room in an hour. Give me time to become… less sweaty,” Y/n told him.

This seemed to remind Zuko of her current state and a blush dusted his cheeks again.

“Of course,” he muttered. He shuffled back towards her door and slipped out.

Y/n shook her head.

--

An hour later, they were walking together towards the throne room for the meeting. Zuko seemed to refuse to refer to it as a war room, so she figured it was best to follow suit. He was listing off the proper order that she should greet the officials they were meeting, how deep she should bow for each, their titles, and so many other details. Y/n was thankful for her experience in memorizing fighting forms and names. Otherwise, she would be completely lost.

“And don’t maintain eye contact for too long. They might think that’s rude. But don’t be too brief, that could come off as rude as well. You definitely need to make eye contact with each of them though, I can’t have them thinking I’m playing favourites,” Zuko told her.

“Is there anything I can do that won’t offend them?”

“Most likely not.”

“Fantastic.”

“It won’t be that bad,” he said, “Try to just follow my lead.”

Y/n swallowed a groan. They had reached the throne room too fast for her liking. Zuko turned to her, looking like he was about to give her a final pep talk. Instead, his face turned sombre.

“Trust me. I won’t let anything bad happen. I’ve had my experience with disrespecting arrogant old men and it’s not something I would wish on anyone.”

Y/n furrowed her brow. She wasn’t sure what he was referring to, she hadn’t been told of anything happening with Zuko’s recent meetings. Unconsciously, she looked at Zuko’s scar. A heavy feeling in her stomach told her that it was related to what he was saying.

Eyes shifting towards the door, he continued, “Anyway, let’s head in. I’m sure you want to get this over with as much as I do.”

Without waiting for her response, Zuko pushed the doors open and headed inside. Y/n followed close behind him.

The throne room was as she remembered it being the last time she was in there. There were the new additions of a long table leading to the Fire Lord’s throne, as well as three older men sitting at it. They were dressed in deep red robes, indicating their high status within the Fire Nation. Y/n knew they weren’t military officials like she had initially expected, but simply members of the Fire Nation nobility that resided within the capitol. She could tell by the way they held themselves that they were aware of their importance. From what Zuko had told her, these particular men had been a nuisance for him. They had been resistant towards Zuko’s efforts to change the way the Fire Nation viewed themselves and the rest of the world.

Zuko sat down at the head of the table. Y/n was not sure whether to simply stand by him until Zuko indicated for her to sit beside him.

From the looks on the Fire Nation nobles, they were not pleased. Probably by her presence. Y/n awkwardly shifted in her chair, not even sure what to do while the men began to converse.

“We need more military presence in our colonies,” one of the men started. “The Earth Kingdom citizens need to be reminded of where they live. Since the end of the war they’ve started to forget who’s in charge.”

Y/n’s face flushed with anger. All she could hear coming out of his was pure nonsense. How could these old men know what was right for the Earth Kingdom? After all, they were directly responsible for all the conflict and war, she thought to herself.

Y/n nails dug deeper into the palm of her hand. It took everything in her to refrain from going up to them and punching them. She almost did. Until she felt a hand lightly graze her arm under the table. She looked up only to see it was Zuko touching her. He gave her a sympathetic look. As if to say he understood.

Y/n’s feelings for the Fire Lord were always quite complicated. On the one hand, his father and people were directly responsible for so many heinous crimes. Yet he was almost different. He cared.

Zuko cleared his throat, silencing the room. Immediately everyone, including Y/n, could not help but stare directly.

“No. That is the exact opposite of what we must do. For so long our military presence has harmed so many. We stand for so much more now. The colonies represent a new future for both Nations, we exist in balance with the Earth Kingdom citizens. The Fire Nation is no longer in charge of the colonies and we have no right to threaten the people living there. ”

Y/n couldn’t help but smile to herself. The old men looked shocked at Zuko’s answer. Zuko stared them down, eyes daring them to challenge him. The one who had initially spoken bowed his head towards Zuko.

“Fire Lord, I strongly suggest you reconsider. Although the war is over, the world needs to remember the power the Fire Nation holds.”

Her proximity to Zuko allowed for Y/n to feel how the air around him quickly heated at the noble’s response. She knew how it was common for fire benders to accidentally trigger their bending when experiencing intense emotion. The noble’s seemingly polite answer had been loaded with a complete disregard of Zuko’s vision for the future, a fact which had clearly angered him.

“I will be doing no such thing. You have shown a complete ignorance towards my vision for the future of the Fire Nation and the harm that we caused during the war. The Earth Kingdom citizens are good people deserving of respect, treating them as such will not taint their view of the Fire Nation. The only presence we should have in the other nations is one of peace.”

With Zuko’s statement they left.

--

“I appreciate what you did in there. But you didn’t have to hold me back. I can handle myself,” she stammered.

“I know you can,” he looked at her with those eyes, “I just don’t know if they can.”

The two of them stood alone together. The heat from Zuko’s anger during the meeting lingered on her skin. They stayed there, looking at each other, until their conversation was interrupted by the best sort of interruption.

Ty Lee ran up to Y/n and engulfed her in a hug. For a second she could not breathe, but the best sort of hugs are the ones that squeeze the life out of you. The two girls had met in boiling rock where they quickly became friends. But if Ty Lee liked her, that had to say something about her character.

It took a moment for Y/n to notice the person that had been with Ty Lee. Azula stared at them intently. Y/n didn’t understand why. They were just standing together after all.

“Looks like my ugly brother finally found someone special.”

Ty Lee playfully nudged Azula’s arm and said, “Azula you know Y/n is just his bodyguard.”

“The same way you’re just my bodyguard too,” she smirked at Ty Lee.

Y/n felt like she had intruded on something she shouldn’t have. By the look on Zuko’s face, he felt the same. But Zuko always looked uncomfortable, it was part of his charm.

“Have you packed for Ember Island Y/n?” Ty Lee said, trying to shift the conversation in a different direction.

“Ember Island?”

“Didn’t Zuko tell you? Suki thought it was best we all go for a bit until the whole assassin situation calms down. Well, really it was supposed to just be Zuko. But we could all use a little vacation,” Ty Lee said.

First Y/n had to become the Fire Lord’s personal bodyguard and now she was going on vacation with him and his friends? Things could not get any crazier. What she didn’t understand was why Zuko didn’t bring it up? It just made no sense for him to keep it from her. Her confusion must’ve shown on her face, as Azula’s smirk got more mischievous.

“Looks like there’s some trouble in paradise. You guys really need to work on your communication skills as a couple.”

“Azula!” Ty Lee nudged her harder.

“Make sure you pack plenty of sunscreen for Zuzu. He tends to burn easily,” Azula said.

“Azula!”

“What! Oh. Wow look at the time Ty Lee. We really should be going.”

masterlist // chapter 1 // chapter 2 // chapter 4

tag list

@duh-dobrik @inthebisonsmouth @thaliawhitex @brbtryagainlater @paenitetmi 

@firelordtea @awkwardnesshabitat

[vulcan-highblood]

(Blue) Spirited Away

Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender Pairing(s): Gen Chapter: 3/? Words: 4k Summary:  Prince Zuko wasn’t able to escape the Northern Water Tribe after the disastrous conclusion to the Siege of the North. However, Aang is more than happy to invite his old pal, the Blue Spirit, to join him and his friends on the first leg of their journey to the Earth Kingdom.

(An AU where Aang never learned the true identity of the Blue Spirit, Zuko is desperate, and Spirits enjoy interfering in the lives of mortals)

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

Read it on AO3

Chapter 3: Lost and Looking

Aang couldn’t believe it. The warriors really hadn’t been joking when they’d said that the Blue Mask Guy could disappear like a polar bear dog! He’d been right there, and Aang had turned around for a second, and he was gone! Just like when Blue Mask Guy had rescued him from that Fire Nation fortress, he remembered. The guy had been wobbling really bad after getting hit in the head (mask?) by an arrow, but he’d managed to stagger to his feet and Aang had dragged both of them to safety. He’d set the guy down on the ground, put his back to the guy for a second just to look in his robes to see if he still had frozen frogs (he did), and when he’d turned back around the guy was gone.  

Part of Aang had started to wonder if he’d ever been there to begin with. And now he was at the North Pole! But why? “Hey!!” he shouted, “Mask guy?” He didn’t even know his name!  “Masky?” Aang shouted, using the wind to carry his voice a little farther. “Blue Mask Guy?” Why was the guy’s mask so familiar, though? He recognized the guy, now, of course, the two swords and the way he moved so fast and quiet was hard to mistake. But the mask itself was familiar too… if only he had paid better attention during the spirit tales at the temples…

But no, he realized with a frown, that wasn’t where he’d seen that mask before. Where… oh! He remembered then, where he’d seen it. He’d gone to see a play with Bumi, they thought they’d bought tickets for a theatre troupe performing Clash of the Earth Masters, but when they’d arrived, it had turned out that they’d been given the time for Love Amongst the Dragons instead. Despite the goofy sounding title, Bumi and Aang had been pleased to discover there was a lot of intrigue, excitement, amazing stunts, battles, and really cool dragon costumes! The antagonist of the play, The Dark Water Spirit, had worn a blue and white mask almost identical to the one worn by the blue mask guy. In the play, the blue-masked spirit had been an antagonist, a trickster who had fooled the Dragon Emperor into binding himself to a mortal form.  A spirit who fooled dragons rather than facing them head on… it made sense, then, that this guy had chosen a guise like that to break into a Fire Nation stronghold, since the Fire Nation was the home of the dragons. But why was he in the North Pole? There were no dragons here, were there? There certainly shouldn’t be, Aang couldn’t imagine that the cold dry weather would be very good for their scales. Kuzon’s dragon sure hadn’t liked the cold air up high, preferring to fly closer to the surface than Appa. 

Of course, he’d figured out quickly that most people couldn’t fly as high as he and Appa could when he’d first taken Bumi for a ride. He hadn’t understood at the time why Monk Gyatso had cautioned him about flying too high, but then Bumi got sick. That was when he’d learned that airbenders naturally drew the air to their lungs when they went too high, but other benders - especially earthbenders - didn’t have that ability, and going too high could make them really sick. Of course, he’d apologized to Bumi after the incident, and Bumi had felt better soon, but it was a lesson he remembered, and meant that he’d kept a close eye on Sokka and Katara whenever they had to fly too high, and he tried to keep that time limited. Now that he thought about it, maybe that was why Kuzon’s dragon hadn’t gone as high, since Dragons were the original firebenders, much in the way that Air Bison were the original airbenders. But the sun was high up in the air, and it seemed to do just fine. 

Waving the thought aside, Aang refocused. So the guy was wearing the mask of a water spirit antagonist to the Dragon Emperor. That probably meant something, right? Maybe he was fighting the Fire Lord, too! He had sure been helpful once before. It still didn’t answer why he had come to the North Pole, but then, they hadn’t been expecting the Ocean to fight back. Maybe he’d come to help fight the Fire Nation here, too? 

Filling his lungs with air, Aang yelled once more, “WHERE DID YOU GO?” making a face at his own volume as he did so. It didn’t seem to make a difference, the whole area was silent and still now. Shoulders slumping into a sigh, Aang started to trudge off in a random direction. He still wasn’t exactly sure which way was back to Sokka and Katara, and he should probably climb another building to try and figure that out, but he didn’t really feel like it when he’d just failed twice. He’d hoped to bring the blue mask guy back to Chief Arnook, but instead he’d just brought up more questions. Why had he broken into the place where they were holding all the firebenders, but not take anyone? He didn’t understand what was happening. Maybe he should go back and ask Katara and Sokka if they had any ideas!

He winced at that. He hadn’t exactly told them that he’d been kidnapped while they’d been sick. It hadn’t really seemed important, and then they kept having more adventures after that, and it had slipped his mind. Now he was beginning to regret that, since he had the feeling that Sokka, at least, wouldn’t be happy about being left in the dark on the subject. Still, he didn’t really have a choice. He hadn’t been able to keep Mask Guy around, but maybe Sokka could figure out a way to convince him to stay.

Nodding to himself, Aang scrambled back atop the most sturdy-looking building and swept his eyes across the landscape, this time looking for familiar territory. He thought he recognized an area ahead and to the right, so he decided to head that direction.

~~*~~

How long did it take to tell someone you were leaving? Sokka wondered absently, frowning as his stomach rumbled slightly. He wasn’t hungry. Well okay, yes, he was hungry, he was always hungry, but he didn’t want to be hungry. He was tired, and sad, and now also worried about Aang. Where was he? It was, like, a five minute walk to the reception hall where Chief Arnook was probably coordinating the rebuilding efforts. How in La's name had it taken Aang so long that the sun was starting to sink below the horizon again? Admittedly, they were only a few months on from the North’s Winter Solstice, so the days were pretty short, but Sokka was fairly certain that Aang was supposed to be back by now. 

“All right, that’s it,” he declared, standing and stretching his back out. “You coming, Katara?”

“Coming where?” Katara asked, glancing up from where she’d been going over their supplies and creating tight bundles to pack up their food and other sundries. 

“To find Aang,” Sokka replied. “He’s been gone for hours, and we both know it doesn’t take that long to talk to someone.”

Katara’s eyes widened suddenly as she leapt to her feet. “Zuko!” she spat. “We never saw what happened to him after he left-”

Sokka felt the blood drain from his face at her words. He hadn’t even considered that, he’d sort of assumed that any firebenders left in the city were either in pretty strict confinement or dead. But this was the jerkbender they were talking about. If anyone would find a way to skulk out of this and kidnap Aang while he was at it, it would be Zuko. “Oh man,” he said nervously. “Yeah, we definitely need to go find him.”

Katara nodded firmly, her packing forgotten in light of this new information. “Come on,” she commanded, somehow managing to forget that this whole manhunt had been Sokka’s idea, and who had put her in charge? 

Sighing, knowing by now when to pick his battles (and it certainly wasn’t when Aang was involved), Sokka followed her from the hut and down the street. He hadn’t really had a plan beyond ‘go find Aang,’ though, and it seemed that Katara hadn’t had a plan either, as she slowed to a stop in the middle of the road to glance at him. “Which way?” she asked, frowning as she spun to and fro, examining each side street like it might be hiding the airbender behind any corner.

Sokka considered the question. “Maybe we should just head for the ceremonial hall?” he suggested. “That’s where Aang said he was going, so if we’re going to find a clue, that’s a good place to start -”

“Hey guys! Where are you going? Did you finish packing?”

“WUH!” Sokka did not yelp, he simply… expressed his surprise. Loudly. 

“Aang!” Katara exclaimed, whirling around to face their absentee airbending Avatar. “Where were you? We were just going to look for you!”

“Oh, right,” Aang at least had the decency to look somewhat sheepish at the accusation. “Well, I went to tell the Chief we were leaving, but when I got there, they were talking about this guy in a mask who broke into the firebender prison with his swords, which sounded cool, and they were looking for him, so I offered to help-”

There seemed to be no end to this sentence in sight, so Sokka sighed inwardly and steeled himself for the rest of the run-on, since there seemed no point in trying to interrupt Aang until he’d finished his explanation.

“Because I’m pretty good at finding things, but I didn’t want to bother you guys or Appa, so I just walked around the city for the while, and got a little lost, I think, but that was okay because I found him! He was wearing a blue and white spirit mask and he had two swords and I recognized him!”

Hold on, that was weird. “You recognized the guy with swords and a mask?” Sokka demanded incredulously, not sure how one pulled off something like that. It was a mask, how could you recognize someone whose face was covered?

Aang paused then to take a breath, and suddenly his posture shifted, his shoulders hunching slightly. “Oh yeah, I uh, I never told you guys about what happened when I went to get those frozen frogs,” he said.

Frozen frogs? It took Sokka a moment to realize what Aang was talking about. “The frozen frogs that you put in our mouths?” he demanded incredulously. “Like the frog that gave me this wart?” he added, sticking his tongue out and pointing.

“I keep telling you, Sokka, there’s no wart!” Katara groused, giving him an exasperated look. “We even had Healer Yugoda look at it and she said the same thing!”

“My tongue feels different! I know it’s the frozen frog that did it!” Sokka insisted, though since his tongue was still sticking out, it didn’t look as though Katara or Aang were really able to parse his words. With a sigh, he released the sides of his mouth and pulled his tongue back in. He got no sympathy from these people, none. Why did he even bother?

“So what happened when you got the frozen frogs?” Katara asked Aang.

“Weeeell, I… kinda got captured by the Fire Nation?” Aang said weakly.

“You WHAT?!” Katara shrieked. Sokka was very glad he wasn’t the one facing down that particular yell, his sister had a pair of lungs and she was not shy about using them. “Was it Zuko?” she demanded.

“No, no!” Aang frowned a little, then. “Worse, actually,” he said after a minute. “Even when Zuko manages to capture me, he usually just ties me up with rope and says he’s taking me home. Zhao is worse. He put me in chains and said that they would keep me alive, but just barely,” he shuddered a little, obviously still feeling anxious about what had been said to him.

Sokka tried to imagine keeping Aang tied down and barely alive, and had to suppress a shudder himself. He hated the Fire Nation, especially Zhao. Sokka felt the anger he’d been fighting back surge through him again at the name. Zhao, who had killed the moon spirit -as good as killed Yue. While Sokka found himself suddenly caught up in his anger, though, Katara was focused on the details.

“Wait, so Zhao kidnapped you? And you didn’t tell us?” Her hands were on her hips and she was giving Aang one of her patented looks.

“I was getting frozen frogs!” Aang protested, “Besides, I escaped!”

“How?” Katara demanded. “You just said you were in chains!”

“Yeah, but the guy in the blue mask showed up and cut the chains with his swords! It was awesome,” Aang mused. “I really thought he was going to cut me in half, at first. He’s really scary looking in the mask.”

“Okay, hold on, you lost me,” Sokka cut in. “Who is this guy in the mask?”

“I don’t know,” Aang said, “But he saved me from Zhao, and he fought firebenders with nothing but two swords and a bunch of cool moves.”

Sokka spared a moment to mentally mourn the fact that apparently this guy’s non-bender status was enough to warrant the designation “cool moves,” while Sokka was still relegated to something of an afterthought. Unfair, that’s what this was. Sokka had cool moves, too!

“But then when we were escaping, his mask got hit with an arrow so I had to drag him away,” Aang continued, “And when I looked up, he was suddenly gone! Poof! Like a spirit!”

Like a spirit. Tui and La, Sokka was so tired of these stupid Spirit Tales coming to life around him. First magic water, then the Avatar, getting kidnapped by angry bear spirits in a forest, the girl he liked turning into the moon, and now some masked guy vanishing into thin air? He was so over it. “Okay, so he walked off while you were distracted,” Sokka interrupted. “Not like it’s that hard.” He pointedly ignored the disgruntled look Katara shot in his direction.  “What does this have to do with…” he frowned. “Wait. Are you telling me the same guy who busted you out of Zhao's Fire Nation Prison is here? Now?!”

“Yes!” Aang insisted. “I met him in the abandoned area where the catapult damage hasn’t been repaired yet -  I think he was sleeping, actually,” Aang mused, breaking off mid-sentence as he considered the idea before shaking his head and returning to the topic. “And he was still wearing the mask and had the swords, but he was wearing furs that were more pale, instead of all-black like he did when he broke me out.”

So the guy knew how to disguise himself for different terrain. Sokka found himself feeling impressed despite his instinct to dislike the guy. Maybe he was cool, after all. Not as cool as Sokka, of course, but he’d leave his options open, he guessed. “So what did he do?” Sokka demanded.

“What did he say?” Katara added. 

“Nothing!” Aang said. “I mean, he looked pretty tired, and once he saw it was me he put his swords away. But when I asked him what he was doing, he didn’t answer. Actually, I don’t think he can talk? But he like, waved his hands at me some, and when I looked around to figure out how to get back to you guys, he disappeared again! Like a spirit!” He leaned forward conspiratorially, “Actually, I think he’s wearing a water spirit’s mask,” he stage-whispered. “I recognized it from a play called Love Amongst the Dragons.”

Setting aside the fact that Aang apparently had terrible taste in theater, Sokka considered this statement. “What water spirit?” he finally asked.

“Uh, the Dark Water Spirit, I think?” Aang said. 

“Huh. I don’t know that one,” Sokka commented. Not that he knew much about any lesser spirits, he was doing good to know of Tui and La. Or Yue and La, now, he guessed. 

“Maybe we could ask Master Pakku!” Katara suggested.

“He’s probably busy…” Sokka began to protest, but Katara was having none of it.

“This is important!” She insisted. “If he’s wearing a water spirit mask, maybe he’s from the water tribes, and that’s why he’s here!”

Aang’s face seemed to say that he was about as convinced as Sokka, which was to say not at all, but he also wasn’t about to argue with Katara.

Sighing, Sokka decided he wasn’t in the mood to argue either. “Fine, fine,” he grumbled under his breath, “Let’s go talk to Master Pakku.”

~~*~~

The old man was getting ridiculous, Pakku reflected wearily. Honestly, it had been barely a day, and already The Grand Lotus was getting antsy, threatening to go out and find his nephew himself. His nephew! The Fire Lord’s Firstborn Son. The Avatar’s pursuer. And, if the stories of the Avatar’s group could be trusted, a singularly unpleasant individual. Why Iroh would be so set on bringing back that horrible child was quite beyond Pakku, it was good riddance as far as he was concerned.

But the old man was getting more anxious as the day dragged on, and Pakku hadn’t managed to find the boy among any of the Fire Nation prisoners… Nor, he’d noted with an equal measure of satisfaction and disappointment, had they found Admiral Zhao, the moon-killer. From what he’d heard, the boy was not an especially competent bender. He wouldn’t be at all surprised to learn the boy had failed to subdue Zhao, and had been lost in the night’s chaos. But the old man refused to believe it, insisting that his nephew was out there, somewhere, and outright refusing to leave until the nephew was found!

Didn’t he know what a risk Pakku was taking even housing one firebender? True, Iroh had clearly acted on their behalf last night, and even more importantly, in favor of the spirits and the balance of the world itself. Normally this would be enough to at least give him the benefit of the doubt, if he weren’t also the Dragon of the West, and that wasn’t exactly something he wanted to advertise. The longer they put off his departure, the more likely they were to be discovered. Pakku couldn’t risk that. 

“Grand Lotus, I urge you to look at this from my perspective,” Pakku said, practically tossing a plate of sea-prunes onto the table as he sat, accepting a steaming cup of kelp tea and sipping it while glaring over the rim of the teacup at Iroh.

“And I urge you to look at it from mine,” Iroh replied, voice calm but resolute. “I cannot in good conscience leave until I am certain of Prince Zuko’s safety.”

“I’ve already given you my word,” Pakku insisted, his sour expression having nothing to do with the sea prune he popped into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully, washing the pickled snack down with another sip of perfectly balanced kelp tea, trying not to feel insulted by the fact that Iroh was somehow better at brewing his own culture’s tea than he was himself. “I will ensure that Zuko is seen safely to the Earth Kingdom, just as I am ensuring you passage.” Although I personally disagree that he has earned this special treatment, considering his reasons for coming here are significantly different from your own, he thought irritably. “I’ve already sent word to our contact in Omashu to be watching for him, precisely for a situation such as this,” he added. 

Iroh simply sipped his own kelp tea, his eyes watching Pakku without so much as a hit of malice, as he simply said, “I am afraid that is not acceptable to me. I must know.”

Pakku set his teacup down in order to pinch the bridge of his nose in what was likely a fruitless attempt to ward off an oncoming headache. “Grand Lotus-”

“Please, Master Pakku,” Iroh interrupted, his voice catching, “I must know. I can’t bear not knowing.”

Pakku had never married, never had children of his own, yet he’d felt his heart tug at the mere sight of Kanna’s necklace worn by Katara, had felt his heart and mind settle at hearing that she still lived. He could not in good conscience deny Iroh the same chance to find his answer, even if that answer turned out to be one different than the one he expected - no, needed - to hear.

Inclining his head slowly, Pakku sighed. “One more day, Iroh. Then we need to start considering… other possibilities.”

“I understand,” Iroh said, his shoulders set in a stubborn way that reminded Pakku unsettlingly of Katara when she had decided the world should be a certain way, and nothing could convince her otherwise. “I am sure  you will find him soon.”

For Iroh’s sake, Pakku hoped that was the case.

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, kevaaronday!

For @kevaaronday. I tried to use all the tropes you liked, though I played a bit with the coffee shop!AU request. It ended up being pretty long, but I hope it pleases. Enjoy and Merry Christmas!

Read On AO3

*****

Food, Drinks, and Pings

Stiles just wanted to clear things up—he did not work for Hale Corp, and he certainly did not work for said company’s inhouse café, The Family Bean. He was a writer, who just so happened to have been roped into the gig because he was best friends with the soulmate-fiancée of the best friend of one of the sons of the company’s owners.

See, one of Stiles’ best friends from high school was Erica Reyes, blonde, vivacious, and both crazy and powerful enough to castrate someone with her fingernails. She might look like she just stepped off the catwalk, with her hourglass figure, fluffy hair, and red lips, but she had a knack for business that led to a scholarship at a reputable business school. Stiles, on the other hand, took to writing like a duck to water, thanks to his overactive imagination and ability to turn a phrase. He could write anything and so he did—news pieces, articles, blogs, reviews, as well as a modestly famous soulmate series published under a pseudonym.

Erica’s soon-to-be husband and soulmate was Vernon Boyd III, a tall, dark, and delicious drink of chocolate, who was so fit he could bench press a baby elephant without breaking a sweat. He was the perfect picture of seriousness and silence, that Stiles used to wonder how he functioned as Hale Corp’s Director of Operations. After getting to know him better, he realized just how smart and charismatic Boyd really was.

Boyd’s best friend from childhood was Derek Hale, one of the sons from the famous and powerful Hale Family, owners and leaders of the mass media company, Hale Corp.

Stiles knew of the Hale Family, and who didn’t? You’d be hard-pressed to find someone who didn’t know the famous family of business tycoons and titans, a family so rich they could buy a person’s soul even. Nor would someone fail to hear about one of the most powerful love stories that rocked the world.

Talia Hale was the eldest child of the main branch of the Hale family and was poised to take over the world. Desmond Fitzgerald, in contrast, was the only child of elderly parents, and they lived at a shabby, squat house with no electricity, scraping by each and every day. 

Talia’s father, the late and great Everett Hale, had visited the local community college as part of their charity program. Talia had tagged along, nineteen and already learning the ropes, and had tripped over the custodian who had been on his hands and knees straightening the welcome carpet.

Take a guess who the janitor was.

An accidental brush of skin, the burning of a Mark, and that was it.

Talia and Desmond turned out to be soulmates, and their Marks, her howling wolf and his crescent moon, had become one of the most romantic symbols of their time.

Now, where did Stiles and The Family Bean came in, you ask?

Aside from writing, Stiles knew his way around a kitchen. His mother had passed away when he was seven, and he had grown up with a Sheriff father who only knew the basics. Stiles had to learn how to cook a meal or risk them subsisting on fried everything and endless takeout orders.

So yes, Stiles knew how a kitchen worked. The thing was, Erica didn’t, and had spent high school eating Stiles’ meals and hanging around his kitchen. Nothing soothed her viciousness and temper like one of his desserts.

So whenever Erica was close to breaking someone’s jaw and risking a lawsuit, she’d invite Stiles over and he would come and work his magic at The Family Bean. It wasn’t like it was such a hardship. The place had a gorgeous kitchen, a full pantry, and a really comfy setup with cozy booths and colorful tables and chairs. 

It wasn’t only Erica who benefited. Stiles often found inspiration at the tail end of a whisk or in between beating a dough into submission while listening to Erica’s gossip. He had come to depend on her brand of sass whenever he was suffering from writer’s block, or dealing with annoying clients, or avoiding his editor, Danny Mahealani. 

It got to the point that Erica had HR make him a permanent guest entry pass—written down for Stiles S, Food Guy—and everyone knew him by name, the security, the delivery boys, the café’s actual employees, and some of Hale Corp’s employees.

That was what he meant by his original statement: He did not work for Hale Corp or The Family Bean. He was just Erica’s food guy and personal chef. Just another title to add to personal punching bag, platonic soulmate, best friend, and partner-in-crime, among others.

Boyd was surprisingly calm about the guy constantly hanging around his soulmate. Then again, no one would choose Stiles’ skinny ass for Boyd’s lusciousness, so Stiles could understand that he wasn’t much of a threat. Erica said that Boyd knew they were a package deal, and it helped that Boyd had been won over by Stiles’ banana bread. Either way, Boyd was cool and didn’t punch Stiles in the face for his and Erica’s weird platonic love affair.

So, in the end, that was Stiles’ life—work, his Dad, Erica, and his other friends.

Then the Hales happened.

It all started on a fine Monday morning with Kira Yukimura. She was pretty and petite, and the goddess who was actually the one in charge of The Family Bean’s kitchen. She wore floral dresses with studded combat boots, and held katana wielding lessons on Saturdays and a kids’ kitchen workshop on Sundays. Stiles adored her.

So when he walked in that day—after spending the entirety of the weekend not writing, because his protagonists, Peter and Wade, were being idiots—only to hear Kira’s cries for help, he was more than happy to tag in.

“I’m not crying.” She glared at him from where she was assembling sandwich orders, her gaze as sharp as her swords.

“But you still need help,” Stiles said. He put his laptop bag in one of the employee lockers, rolled up the sleeves of his red sweater, and put on an apron. “Erica wants to do lunch, but I decided to come in early.”

Kira nodded towards the window. “All right, because I got a purple ticket for you.”

Stiles jumped up. “Ooh, cool! I’ve never handled a purple ticket before!”

Kira gave him a relieved smile. “Well, today’s your lucky day. One of my employees called in sick, another is late, and I’ve got five packed tickets from different departments, three of them being rush orders, not to mention today’s purple ticket is a little too vague. I’m both swamped and stumped.”

“I’ve got your back, K.” Stiles gave her a salute and bounced over to the ticket tacked up on the holder.

Purple tickets were orders sent straight from the Wolf’s Den. It was the codename for the top floors occupied by the Hale Family and their closest associates. Boyd and Erica’s office were there, too. Stiles had only ever seen it through photos. There was a lot of security posted there, as if guarding the gates of heaven.

Anyway, purple tickets meant VVVVIP orders, note the number of ‘very’s. Kira usually handled those, but she obviously needed help now.

“Now, what do the Lords and Ladies want?” Stiles murmured to himself.

The Family Bean:

MH: hot chocolate

CC: pancakes

SHB: waffles

VHB: dirty chai

LH: anything 

“You know who’s who?” Kira called out.

“Yep, I got it,” Stiles replied. He learned about this from Erica.

MH was Matthew Hale, the firstborn son and heir to the kingdom. CC was his seven-year-old daughter, who everyone called by her nickname. SHB was five-year-old Spencer, and VHB was his mother Valerie Hale-Barone, the firstborn daughter, second eldest, and the lawyer of the family. LH was Laura Hale, the third eldest and the maverick of the family. She was the only one not directly working for Hale Corp, and was more involved their side projects.

“Purple tickets are usually like that,” Kira said, looking at him with amusement. Stiles realized he had been frowning in confusion. “Despite being insanely rich people, they’re surprisingly not very picky about what they eat. Laura, in particular, will eat anything. It’s just difficult to give them variety or find a balance between upscale and too simple.”

“And now you want me to take a crack at it?” Stiles asked.

“Sure. It’ll be in my name anyway, and I don’t mind if you go wild,” Kira said encouragingly. It made Stiles grin. Most would be horrified at handing over their precious menu to someone who wasn’t a baker, much less someone who wasn’t a legitimate employee. But Kira had always been a rebel.

Under Kira’s guidance, Stiles filled up a purple delivery bag for the Hales. The dirty chai latte was pretty straightforward, though he didn’t know how Kira usually made it, so he went with his own style. He also made a raspberry hot chocolate, strawberry cheesecake pancakes, mixed berry waffles, and, for the anything portion of the ticket, a berry breakfast parfait made of yoghurt and fruits and graham crackers.

“Tastes awesome and looks pretty as a picture too,” Kira said, nibbling on her own waffle as she sat atop the counter, swinging her legs to and fro. Stiles could see a hint of her soulmate Mark under her dress just on the outside of her thigh. “I still believe you should have been a baker rather than a writer.”

Stiles grinned as he hung up his apron. “I’m both, but one pays the bills and the other’s a hobby. It’s surprising how most people would think one’s the other.”

“Kira?” a voice called out.

Kira perked up and immediately slid off the counter. She straightened her skirt and stepped out the door of the kitchen. 

“Good morning, Derek,” she greeted.

Stiles peeked out unashamedly through the service window.

Tall, dark, and incredibly handsome, DH or Derek Hale was the middle child of the family. He was the Chief Financial Officer, and was said to be shyer and quieter compared to his more unruly and flashy siblings. It made sense why he was childhood friends with Boyd. The two seemed to share a calm, quiet demeanor.

Stiles had always thought that Derek was quite handsome in an already attractive family, and every once in a while, he would get front row seats—or the view through the service window—to the man in the three-piece suit with the godly shoulder to waist to ass ratio. It was quite inspiring.

“I heard Val and the others had a purple ticket sent down,” Derek was saying to Kira. “I’m on my way up and I thought I’d bring it along and save you a trip.”

“Oh, thanks, Derek. I’ll get it from the back,” Kira replied. “How about you? Do you want anything?”

Derek thought about it. “Just a drink. Anything you want to make me.”

“So long as it’s sweet?” Kira teased, which made the man chuckle.

It was like a bulb lit up in Stiles’ head. 

He met Kira at the door when she walked back in, and it said so much about how awesome she was because she immediately said, “Yes, Stiles, you can make whatever you want. I mean, you’ve already tried your hard at the purple ticket. Might as well go all the way.”

“Thanks, K. You’re a goddess.” Stiles bounced off to the machines. He had always liked a challenge.

In the end, Stiles added his specially made ‘very merry berry frappe’ into the bag. He made sure to put it in a cup cozy to hide the purple color. He wasn’t sure if Derek would mind, but it just wouldn’t do for one of the bosses to be seen with a colorful drink. He let Kira whisk the bag away and they watched Derek exit The Family Bean.

“I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave,” Stiles murmured, eyeing the man’s backside.

“I’ll drink to that.” Kira giggled, clinking her extra glass of frappe against his. “And you’re teaching me the recipe by the way.”

“Not on your life.”

It took eight days before Stiles could once again visit The Family Bean. He had had a burst of inspiration following his last visit and had locked himself up in his apartment. His Dad John and his editor Danny were used to these binges, so they had taken turns visiting him to make sure he was alive and eating actual food rather than inhaling takeout, junk food, and soda. 

He had sent off the first few chapters to Danny yesterday and had then slept for about eighteen hours, before Erica had barged in to make sure he hadn’t died. She had been pissed at him last week, annoyed that she hadn’t sampled Stiles’ berry-filled menu, but she’d gotten over it and had even brought groceries before dragging Stiles to The Family Bean for some fresh air and free lunch.

And if that wasn’t enough to perk Stiles up, she and Kira proceeded to tell him how well-received his menu was.

“The kids absolutely loved it, and Laura practically licked her parfait cup clean,” Kira said as they sat around the table for lunch. She had prepared honey sesame chicken, egg rolls, and sweet potato salad. She definitely had Stiles beat when it came to savory meals.

“Valerie was surprised that her dirty chai tasted great. She wasn’t biting people’s heads off more than usual,” Erica shared. She was running her fingers idly over her soulmate Mark, the three claw marks that spanned across her forearm.

Stiles felt pleased at the compliment, but he couldn’t help sending Kira an apologetic look. He didn’t want to usurp her clients and her kitchen. 

Kira just laughed. “It’s fine. I know it’s due to your magic fingers and secret recipes. Just teach me how you do Valerie’s dirty chai and we’re good.”

“Sure thing, but it’s nothing special” Stiles said. “I did bring dessert, as thanks for letting me play around last time.”

Kira bounced on her seat. “Tomato pie?” 

“With extra bacon and jalapeños, just how you like it.” Stiles grinned and showed her the pie, making Kira squeal.

“You gals eat up. I’ll mix us up some lattes, if you want anything,” he offered.

Stiles went to the kitchen to fix up Erica’s usual iced cinnamon honey latte and Kira’s vanilla almond. He was in the middle of finishing them up when he heard voices out at the main area. He recognized Boyd’s low voice and decided to make him a cup of blond roast with soy milk. He paused when he heard unfamiliar voices and took a peek out the service window. He instantly recognized the small group that had joined Kira and Erica.

There was Boyd, who immediately sat down beside Erica and kissed her cheek. His soulmate Mark was obvious, a rose on the back of his left hand. Stiles liked their marks, very beauty and the beast.

Having come in with Boyd was Derek, who looked just as handsome as he always did in a fetching dark blue suit. With him were his younger siblings, twins Cora and Cameron Hale, the artists of the family, who made music and art, played a bevy of instruments, and also drew and painted. Stiles was only two years older than the twins, but they had more talent in their pinkies than Stiles had in his whole body.

The twins’ Marks were one of the most popular, not just because the two were celebrities, but also because they were incredibly visible. Even from a distance, Stiles could see the compass between Cora’s collarbones and the lighthouse that popped up over Cameron’s collar at the left side of his neck. 

Suddenly feeling shy, Stiles stayed in the kitchen and watched and listened.

“Nice spread, Kira. Is that for us?” Cameron asked.

“No, you Hales have your own food upstairs,” Kira said. “I heard Wild Flour Italian sent lunch over.”

Cora rolled her eyes. “Jennifer Blake owns that joint. She’s been trying to get us to come over. No doubt she’ll just use it as some sort of advertisement. I’d rather take a bite of this.” She pointed at their table.

“That pie looks good,” Cameron said. “Can I have a bite?”

Stiles saw the gleam in Erica’s eye.

“Go on,” she said. “They’re good.”

Stiles watched as Erica and Kira offered the Hales a slice each. For some reason, he felt anxious to hear about how his food will be received. It had been nice to hear the rave reviews from Kira and Erica, but it was different seeing their reactions in person.

Cora let out yum-yum noises, which buoyed Stiles’ spirit. 

“Okay, that’s pretty tasty. I love the caramelized bacon.”

“Wait, is this tomato in pie? Like a tomato pie?” Cameron asked, inspecting his plate. He took a large bite.

Kira bounced on her seat in excitement. “Yes, isn’t it good?” 

“Who made this?” Derek asked. He didn’t look displeased, but he didn’t look happy either. He had a really good poker face. It might be good for business, but it was hard for Stiles to interpret. Stiles noted that he kept on eating the pie though.

“My Food Guy,” Erica said with a smug grin.

“Her Food Guy’s the one who made the berry-eautiful purple ticket that received quite the sensational reviews,” Kira added. She glanced at the service window and Stiles knew she saw him hiding there.

“The one who made my drink, too?” Derek asked.

Kira nodded. “The same one.” 

“Spence went gaga for those waffles,” Cameron said. “And Mattie couldn’t believe someone got CC to eat fruit.”

A loud ring cut through their conversation and everyone started pulling out phones to check. It was Derek’s.

“Mom’s calling. Time to go,” he said, standing up.

In reply, Cameron started shoving the rest of the pie in his mouth and also popped in a couple of egg rolls.

“Where’s the Food Guy, though?” Cora asked, head turning to the kitchen. Stiles ducked down behind the counter. “If he makes stuff like this, I wanna meet him.” 

“You can order a purple ticket if you want, but he’s not here all the time,” Erica said, and Stiles glared at her in his mind.

“He works part-time?” Derek asked.

“Not quite,” Kira said. “He’s—”

They were interrupted once more by a ringing phone, and this time Boyd spoke.

“Talia wants you all upstairs. Now.”

Stiles peeked out again. Cameron attempted to bring the entire pie tin, but settled for polishing his slice off. He then joined Cora in writing up a purple ticket order. After a moment, Derek put an order in too. The Hales left in a hurry and Stiles leaned right out of the service window just as Kira came bouncing towards it.

“There’s the man of the hour,” Boyd said, with a smirk.

Kira giggled. “Order up, Food Guy. You got a purple ticket.”

“I’m so proud.” Erica mockingly wiped a tear away. “Stiles, my Food Guy, charming the Hales off through the power of food.”

“Oh, fuck you all.” Stiles glared, ducking back into the kitchen.

At the last minute, he reached out and grabbed the purple ticket from Kira, ignoring the others’ laughter.

Over the next three weeks, Stiles prepared four more purple tickets. According to Kira, his drinks and desserts had become quite attractive to the Hales, both because of the taste and the mystery.

“At this point, they don’t even want me handling the tickets. They always ask if The Food Guy is around before they send their orders down,” Kira said. This time, she was the one helping Stiles prepare and pack. 

The Wolf’s Den was going to be holding meetings nonstop, so Stiles had to prepare a variety of drinks and snacks. It would have been easy if they had simple requests, but the Hales were a mix of eclectic and frustrating.

“I’m glad you’re cool about this, but the Hales are bound to find out that the one making all their desserts isn’t even an employee,” Stiles said, as he added an extra shot of syrup in Laura’s honey and milk iced coffee. Just like her usual orders, she had asked for ‘any drink that’s sweet’ which was such a large ballpark that Stiles wanted to clock someone over the head, maybe her.

“I’m more surprised that you keep making these for free,” Kira said.

Stiles shrugged. “It’s a challenge, and I like challenges.”

“Really, just for the challenge?” Kira asked. “Stiles, Valerie fell in love with your version of her dirty chai. I did it the exact same way you did, but she insists that it tastes different. Same with Cameron’s favorite spiced coconut coffee. Same with all the desserts you made for the kids…”

Her face turned serious. “Don’t you think there’s more to this? Don’t you think it’s a ping—”

“It’s just for fun, Kira. It’s nothing,” Stiles said, heart rabbiting in his chest. He pushed it down firmly. “Plus, it’s surprisingly inspiring for my stories. Right now, I’m writing a new story for my spy series and I’m trying to solve this thing going on between James and Quentin.”

Kira’s face fell but she smiled, if a bit awkwardly. “Ah, well. Whatever you say, Food Guy. I’m just happy I get free labor out of it.”

“So you’re the Food Guy?”

The two of them jumped up in surprise and they turned around to see that someone had come in through the kitchen doors.

“Nathan, hello!” Kira greeted. “We didn’t hear you come in.”

Nathaniel Hale was the youngest of the brood at nineteen, and with his dark hair and piercing blue eyes, he was quite the heartthrob in an already beautiful family. If that wasn’t enough, he was an athlete and a rising star in soccer.

Stiles didn’t really care at the moment, too busy wondering if the kid had heard what Kira had been saying.

Nathan leaned against the counter. “Everyone was arguing over who was going to pick up the ticket this time. I walked out while Laura was arm wrestling with Cam.”

Kira laughed while Stiles looked away, suddenly awkward.

“Uh, that’s cool and all, but I’m not remotely interesting enough to warrant an arm wrestle.”

Nathan shrugged. “Your stuff tastes amazing.” He smiled at Kira. “No offense, Kira. You’re still queen. But you… you’re interesting.” He gave Stiles a look. “You know, I’ve been ordering the same caramel vanilla iced coffee from The Family Bean for years now. You made it once and now everything else tastes different.”

Stiles couldn’t help flinching. Oh yeah. Nathan had definitely heard Kira.

But Nathan turned to Kira, breaking the stare. “Anyway, is the ticket ready? Can I take it up?”

Kira smiled and handed over the bag. “You just want to lord your victory over the others.”

“Of course. That’s what having siblings is all about.” Nathan scoffed, but grinned. “Anyway, thanks.” 

Kira smiled. “Enjoy your meal.”

Stiles watched Nathan leave and rubbed his left shoulder. He had a weird feeling about all this.

A single touch was all it took to find someone’s soulmate. However, people couldn’t just go around touching one another. Some did, but there were laws against touching people without their consent. So Nature, in all its wisdom, gave people the capability to locate their soulmates by following a trail.

The best trail was through family members. Take for example one other famous Hale love story, that of Valerie. Her husband, the Italian magnate Piero Barone, was from a family of vintners. During Talia and Desmond’s trip to Italy, they met Piero at a wine tasting event and immediately felt what Mark experts called a ‘ping,’ a connection between them that hinted at the identity of Piero’s soulmate. Piero followed the Hales to America, met the family—all of which gave off similar pings—was finally allowed a Touch Test with Valerie, and the rest was history.

There were other kinds of trails, like what happened between Boyd and Erica. They both attended the same university, though Boyd had graduated several years earlier. However, even without knowing Boyd, Erica inadvertently joined the same groups and organizations that he had, and even lived at the same apartment that he had rented when he had been a student. Then after Erica graduated, she decided to take a year off to travel. Months later, when Boyd went on sabbatical, he ended up following almost the exact same itinerary. They finally met by chance during an alumni event and got to talking, which revealed all of the things they had in common. Before the event was even halfway through, they had done a Touch Test and found their match.

Stiles’ favorite trail story was of his parents’. John and Claudia met when they were children. Having no siblings, they didn’t have the benefit of a family trail, and being young meant there weren’t a lot of experiences that could link them. However, they had always known there was something special about one another. They grew up together, grew apart, and met later on in life. They still didn’t have the same life experiences—she was a librarian, he was a deputy—but the moment they saw one another again, they just knew.

Sometimes people just knew.

“Well, well, well. I didn’t know we were serving twink in the menu.”

Ordinarily, that comment would have had Stiles lashing out with his sharp tongue, but upon looking up, he hesitated. First of all, the other person was clearly drunk and it was only, Stiles checked his watch, three-forty-seven in the afternoon. Second, the other person was none other than the infamous Peter Hale, Talia’s younger brother.

The eternal bachelor, he was called, well known for his many dalliances and relationships. He was also the Hale with the most well-known Mark, not because it was at a visible spot, but mostly because he tended to flaunt the large image of a bird in flight that was across his chest via his tendency of wearing unbuttoned shirts.

In Stiles’ opinion, Peter reminded him of one of his book characters—the rich and powerful Anthony, who, underneath all the bravado, was desperately looking for his soulmate, only to find it in the fair-haired, gentle-hearted Steven, who wouldn’t take his crap. He wondered who Peter’s soulmate was.

“Oh, for god’s sake. Uncle, come back here!”

Stiles looked up to see Derek jogging over to them, looking both pissed and worried at the man leaning against The Family Bean’s pristine counter.

Peter ignored him. “Oh, lay off, Derek. I want a drink, and this twink is going to make me one.”

Derek turned to Stiles. “Peter, do not call—” He paused, dark eyes widening.

Stiles felt his heart jerk in his chest and his left shoulder burn. He felt like he had been hit in the head, so did Derek going by his gaping.

Peter suddenly tilted sideways, interrupting their stare down. Neither Stiles nor Derek were able to catch the man before he ended up sprawled across the counter. The sight of him had Stiles dredging up some semblance of control. He sighed.

“You are very rude, and also very drunk, but because I feel sorry for you, Mr. Hale, I’ll make you a free drink.”

Derek let out a gurgle and then a cough, obviously holding back laughter. Peter propped himself up on wobbly elbows. 

“You feel sorry for me? Don’t you know who I am, kid?”

Stiles was both annoyed by Peter and buoyed by Derek’s reaction. It was probably what sharpened his tongue.

“You’re Talia Hale’s younger brother, but between the supposed—ahh, what was it—Big Bad Wolf of Media and this so-called twink, I’m not the one nursing a hangover at this time of the afternoon.”

Stiles shook his head and walked off, ignoring Peter’s angry, garbled words and the sudden chuckle from Derek. The latter made Stiles’ shoulder ache.

Stiles ignored that and prepared a quick takeout bag. He could hear Peter and Derek arguing out on the main area. It was the work of minutes to prepare a quick smoothie and throw in some crackers and fruits. He walked back out and handed the bag to Derek, but then quickly tucked his hands to himself. The other man’s piercing stare was making him sweat.

Peter grabbed his drink and took a gulp of the smoothie, before asking, “What’s your name, kid?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. Not even a thank you. How rude. 

“Not a kid, and there’s no need to know my name since you’re just going to forget it.”

Peter smirked lasciviously. “Oh, that mouth on you.”

“I’m also not into geriatrics,” Stiles was quick to bite back.

Peter’s jaw dropped. “Geria—”

Derek suddenly burst into laughter and the sound of it seemed to fill Stiles’ heart and mind, making his face flush and his body warm. Derek smiled at him and Stiles felt warmth bloom in his chest.

Stiles cleared his throat, trying to will the blush away. He rubbed his shoulder. “Well, anyway, I’m happy to help. I’ll tell Kira you guys dropped by. See you around.” He glanced at Peter. “Not you. Drop dead.” He stepped back.

“Wait!” Derek lurched forward, startling Stiles and also Peter, who, true to Stiles’ words, slid off the counter to the floor. They ignored him.

Derek leaned forward over the counter. “I’m sorry if I’m forward, but are you—”

Stiles shook his head vigorously. “I’m sorry. I have to go.” 

He ducked back into the kitchen, ignoring Derek’s calls and Peter’s drunken warbling. He leaned against the door and slid down until he could curl up into a ball. He placed a hand over his burning shoulder.

Sometimes people just knew.

Stiles was tempted to stay away from The Family Bean after that. He really wanted to. But it was hard to stay away.

Even harder to stay away from a ping.

Stiles wasn’t stupid enough to let that slip away.

Still, it was hard to face up to it and admit that he had a soulmate.

So for the next two weeks, Stiles stayed away from the front of house, always hiding in the safety of the kitchen. He kept on making purple tickets whenever they came, but he avoided coming out for any reason, especially after Derek started coming by nearly every day. Sometimes he even brought his work over just so that he could stay as long as possible.

It confused Kira and Erica, but they assumed Derek just liked the food. The other Hales also started coming by and many times, Stiles could hear them asking Derek why he was hanging around The Family Bean instead of working in his office. Always, Derek kept mum.

Because as it turned out, Derek hadn’t told anyone about the ping.

In fact, Stiles had a feeling that the only person in the Hale family who knew was Nathan. Maybe because he had already been suspicious of it. Out of all the Hales, he was the only one who didn’t ask Derek about why he kept hanging around the café.

The other one who knew was Boyd.

Derek had been called to a meeting one day, so Stiles had felt it safe to come out and work at one of the booths. He had already fallen so far behind on his writing commitments. After a few minutes, Boyd had dropped by and had joined him. Stiles knew he was typing gibberish on his laptop, but he kept on as an excuse not to look at Boyd, who was looking at him intently.

Finally, he spoke, “Looking back, I guess it wasn’t just your banana bread that won me over.”

Stiles jerked, sending a series of characters across the screen.

Boyd kept on. “I always had a good feeling about you from Erica’s stories, but when we met, that was definitely a ping.”

Stiles bit his lip. “Does Erica know?”

Boyd shook his head. “I love her, but Erica would have thrown a party if she knew.”

Stiles sighed, both in relief and in trepidation for the moment Erica find out.

Boyd studied him. “Derek’s a good guy, you know.”

“I know I got that impression from all the stories you and Erica had of him,” Stiles said. “I always thought it was surprising considering he could afford not to be a nice guy.”

Boyd studied him, making Stiles shift in his seat. “Is that the reason you won’t meet with him? Or do a Touch Test? Because he’s a Hale?”

Stiles almost protested, but he deflated. “…I don’t know.”

Boyd hummed under his breath. “Well, you’ve always played your cards close to the chest when it comes to soulmates, but I know you’ll figure it out.” He stood up. “But you better make it soon. Erica and the rest of the Hales are bound to figure it out.”

Stiles groaned and sank down on his seat. 

“Noted.”

The day after that, a still-conflicted Stiles was once again at The Family Bean. Kira had gone up to the Wolf’s Den to deliver the latest purple ticket, so he had to stay and man the counter. 

The door let out a little tinkle, and Stiles froze the moment he saw the woman entering the café.

He’d know Talia Hale anywhere.

Stiles almost panicked, but then he remembered that she didn’t know who he was. He took a deep breath.

“Um, good afternoon, Mrs. Hale. What can I get you?”

The woman smiled, quite warm and friendly despite her fierce reputation. “Just some tea, please. And are there any new desserts?”

It had been a moment of weakness, but Stiles had actually brought over some peanut butter stuffed cookies and added it to the purple ticket in the hopes that a certain Hale would like them. He still had a few cookies left, but he wasn’t sure if he should offer them to her.

“I smell cookies,” Talia said pointedly. “I’ll have some of those.”

Stiles gulped. “Ah, we have some peanut butter stuffed cookies. Let me get those for you.”

He swallowed his nerves and served the woman, who took a sip of tea and a bite of the cookie right there on the counter.

She smiled, studying the cookies. “Very tasty.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Stiles smiled politely. He turned away to leave and maybe gather his strength in the privacy of the kitchen.

“When we started hearing about The Food Guy, I admit I was quite intrigued. It’s very rare for someone to grab the attention of my entire family.”

Stiles paused and turned to her.

He should have known.

Stiles nodded stiffly. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

Talia smiled, sharp and knowing. “And you, Food Guy.”

“Any reason for the visit?” Stiles asked, shifting on his feet.

“I wanted to meet you,” Talia said, taking another bite of her cookie. 

Stiles frowned. “That’s all?”

“Were you expecting anything else?”

“Uh, well, I…”

Talia shrugged and sipped his tea. “I don’t blame you for any misgivings you might have should you prove to be soulmates with my son. I’m well aware of the reputation of my family. My late father, Everett, embodied the might of the Hale name better than anyone. You should have seen him back in the days.”

Stiles held up his hands. He couldn’t help the feeling that he had to explain.

“It’s not that there’s a problem with Derek or your family. Being a Hale isn’t the problem… not entirely…” he hesitated, but then plunged on, urged by the ping he could feel inside him and the desire to make someone understand. “My mom passed away when I was seven. She was soulmates with my father. He was—I was—we were never the same after.”

A heavy silence fell, and Stiles was both nervous and intrigued. Talia’s face changed. Something in her eyes darkened and she pursed her lips.

“Forgive my sudden melancholy, but I was just reminded of something.” She sipped her tea. “I was reminded of my youth. My father, Peter, and I had never been the same after mother walked away.”

“Walked away?” Stiles was taken aback. It was rare to hear any mention of Talia’s mother, but everyone had chalked it up to grief at her passing. “But you all said she died—”

Talia interrupted him delicately. “People think of Marks as the be all and end all where the only answer is yes. But even soulmates are a choice…”

“Desmond grew up without a penny to his name, so he rejected me as he could only see himself as an embarrassment to the Hale family. My opinionated father had, unfortunately, been a contributing factor to that line of thinking. I grew up with a rather jaded view of Marks and pings, and I had seen his rejection as a challenge and not a privilege. Desmond and I, our story had been tempestuous, quite unlike the romanticizing people had done.”

She finished the last of her tea. “If I may be allowed to request one thing, all I ask is that you make a choice so that Derek can do the same. No one in this family will certainly blame you for it.”

Talia pushed her empty cup and plate towards Stiles, and smiled. “Have a good day, Food Guy.”

Stiles watched Talia walk away.

He had some thinking to do.

Stiles took a deep breath and tried not to crush the boxes in his hands. He was nervous and his left shoulder was throbbing.

“Ready?” Kira asked him. She was carrying the other delivery boxes.

“As I’ll ever be,” Stiles replied.

Kira smiled, both encouraging and proud, and nodded to the guard on duty. The man held open the double doors for them, and Stiles was instantly met with a wall of sound.

“Purple ticket delivery,” Kira called out, leading Stiles inside.

The office was spacious, as it should be if it was going to accommodate all of the Hales, and all of them were there. There was a long table at one end where Talia, Matthew, and Boyd were talking and laughing. Desmond was on one couch, talking to Piero and Erica. Laura and Cora were seated on armchairs and were arguing loudly about something. Peter was egging them on. CC and Spencer, were seated in front of a television at a kids’ play area set up in the corner. Cameron was with them, all of them singing along to whatever cartoon was playing. Derek, Valerie, and Nathan were huddled around a table, looking at blueprints.

“Oh, yes! The food’s here!” Cameron cheered, which sent the children shouting as well.

Kira navigated the area like a champ, while Stiles slowly shuffled after. “You guys ordered a lot. I had to ask for help. This is Stiles.”

Stiles didn’t miss the way Derek’s head suddenly jolted in his direction, nor Talia’s proud smile, nor Erica’s sudden screech of “Stiles!” which had everyone else turning their way. Stiles winced. He was going to get his ass kicked later for not telling Erica about this.

“Well, well…” Peter grinned. “Hello there, twink.”

Stiles shuddered. “Still not into creepy old geezers.”

“Oh, wait, wait! Is he the guy who called you a geriatric?” Laura asked, before shrieking in laughter.

“And the one who said Peter should drop dead,” Cora added, cackling. 

Laughter rang around over Peter’s protests, and it made Stiles’ heart stutter. He felt warm all over, like the pings going off in his head were doubly delighted at the Hales. He glanced at Derek, who was smiling warmly.

Stiles winced when he caught Erica’s gaze though. She looked between him and Derek and her eyes widened. But Boyd was suddenly there, hand over her mouth and whispering to her.

Stiles helped Kira take out all of the food and the ravenous Hales were quickly upon them.

“Food Guy’s stuff tastes awesome,” Nathan said, licking his cupcake’s icing. He waggled knowing eyebrows at Stiles, who bit back a grin. Cheeky kid.

“Please pass our compliments to the chef, Kira,” Desmond said, reaching for his drink.

Kira giggled. “You can thank him yourself.” She waved at Stiles with a flourish.

Stiles felt a little like a deer in headlights when all their gazes alighted on him.

“You’re Food Guy?” and other iterations of the exclamation rang around the room.

Stiles flushed. “I’m glad to hear you all like what I’ve been making.”

“Oh, wow! How wonderful!” Piero piped up. “I haven’t felt a ping in such a long time. How nostalgic, don’t you think, dear?” He turned to Valerie.

“That’s a ping?” Matthew asked, confused, before his face cleared and he rubbed his chest. “Oh, hell, this is a ping.”

“Is that the tingly feeling here, Uncle Mattie?” Spencer asked, pointing at his tummy.

Erica finally managed to get out from under Boyd. “Stiles, did you ping with Derek? Is that why you’ve both been hanging around The Family Bean? You’ve both been pining over each other!”

Stiles groaned, while gasps and shouts suddenly rang around the room.

Kira sighed. “Way to ruin it, Erica.”

“You mean I was pinged through a tomato pie?” Cameron was asking, wide-eyed. 

Cora started laughing. “Oh my god! Uncle Peter flirted with Derek’s soulmate!”

“That’s Uncle Derek’s soulmate?” CC asked.

“Yes, he is.” Nathan looked like he was immensely enjoying all this, and Stiles was starting to realize that he was a little shit.

Derek stepped towards Stiles. His face was a little red, but he was smiling and Stiles thought he was the handsomest man he had ever seen.

“My family’s a mess. Please ignore them,” Derek said, ignoring the protests from his siblings.

Stiles chuckled. “At least they keep things interesting. It’s just me, my Dad, and her.” He jerked a thumb at Erica.

“Oh, fu—dge you!” Erica said, glancing at the kids. She turned to Boyd. “And I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”

Boyd rolled his eyes. “I was giving him space to process things.”

Stiles ignored them and turned to Derek. He only had one chance to do this.

“Ah, sorry, it took a while. I was figuring stuff out, but I thought we should get to know one another first.”

“Of course,” Derek said immediately. He reached out a hand. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you, Stiles.”

Stiles glanced at Talia, who was whispering to her husband. She winked at Stiles.

“Soulmates are a choice.”

Stiles smiled at Derek. He could feel his Mark tingling in anticipation.

“Me too, Derek.”

He reached out and took his hand.

[wendimydarling]

The Soldier’s Wife (Chapter Three)

Title: The Soldier’s Wife

Summary: Syverson and his wife navigate the ups and downs, the highs and lows, and the blessings and pitfalls of marriage.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC

Word Count: 1572

Warnings: Finally sex! I mean... there’s sex, guys. Watch out. 😬

Chapters: Flashback | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven

Song Inspiration: “Autumn Finds Winter” - Yiruma

A/N: Well, looky here, you luck ducks: Chapter Three! Fully inspired, this chapter wrote itself quick. If you’re interested, you can find an image of the car here. Look it up the song inspiration and listen while you read, you won’t be sorry. Thanks be to the beautiful queen @littlefreya​ who beta’d for me. Enjoy!

As always, I am a comment WHORE; please let me know what you liked, disliked, etc.! I can only grow as an author with your input! Tag list is open, please let me know if you’re interested!

Tags: @littlefreya​ @sciapod​ @thiccgeralt​ @fucking-hell-cavill​ @brexrif​ @peakygroupie​ @viking-raider​ @constip8merm8​ @daniig95​ @elinalfrida​ @hell1129-blog​ @oddsnendsfanfics​ @agniavateira​ @dearlybelovedluke​ @sofiebstar​ @wanderinglunarnights​ @magdelen69​ @vania-marie​

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

CHAPTER THREE

Mabel walked down main street at a leisurely pace, her boot spurs clinking against the wooden sidewalk. On her arm she carried a picnic basket that Syverson had given her for her birthday a couple of years ago. She’d had no contact from him since this morning, but she knew where he was. He was where he always was after events like that.

The bell above the front door to Mel’s Autoshop chimed as Mabel ducked under it. The smell of oil, grease and rubber greeted her, along with the owner’s friendly and knowing smile.

“Howdy, Mel. How’s the wife?”

“Oh, crotchety as ever. Sy’s out back.”

“Thanks. Mind if he takes a lunch?” Mabel held up the basket as she asked. Mel smiled at her, showing his missing teeth.

“Only if ya share a piece of that pie I know’s in there,” he bartered, but Mabel was one step ahead of him. She pulled some tupperware out of the basket, two pieces of pie sealed tightly inside, and handed it to the old man with a kiss. 

“Did ya think I’d forgot about ya?” she teased. Mel smiled at her, ever grateful that Syverson had Mabel in his life. Mel had always been attached to that boy; had given him safe shelter on more than one occasion when the boy’s father had come home drunker than a fish swimming in whiskey.

“Go on then, git,” he admonished her in mock gruffness, tucking into the pie without so much as a fork. Mabel smiled, heading through the back door into the car yard.

She didn’t have to search for him, Mabel could hear angry grunts and the sound of metal striking metal. She followed it, and it led her to Syverson, who was shirtless, sweating, and violently attacking the hood of a beat up station wagon with a crowbar. She set the basket down and stood there awhile, watching as he took out all his frustrations on the innocent vehicle. It was always best to let him have his say, even if his say was hitting the largest inanimate object he could find. It was never her, and that was all Mabel cared about.

Syverson looked up and stopped mid-swing when he saw Mabel. The crowbar clattered to the ground as his chest heaved, staring at her with a look that only she could read. A look that told her he was afraid. Afraid of hurting her. Mabel grabbed the nearest rag she could find, confidently striding over to him. He needed to see that she didn’t fear him. Syvesron flinched and took a step back as she came near but Mabel pressed forward, wiping the sweat from his brow. 

“I ain’t afraid of ya, Sy.”

He took the rag from her, wiping his torso as he shook his head.

“Lord knows why. I nearly ripped yer ma’s head off this mornin’.”

“Well, then, she woulda had it comin’ to her fer wakin’ ya like that. I’m so sorry.”

Syverson yanked his shirt off the rail where it hung nearby and threw it on. Mabel watched him, marveling at his physique.

“Damn it all, Syverson, I think ya get bigger every time ya get back.” she said as she squeezed his bicep, hoping to lighten the mood a little. It worked partially, she received a small smirk. Striding over to pick up the basket, she held it out to him.

“I brought lunch.”

At this, Syverson actually smiled, taking the basket from her and linking her arm in his.

“In that case, our table awaits, milady.”

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

Their table was a turquoise 1957 Chevy Bel Air Convertible. It didn’t run anymore, but Syverson and Mel had fixed it up nice on the outside and rolled it underneath a giant Live Oak tree overlooking the lake on Mel’s property. Trees surrounded the lake, their roots digging into the  boundary of the water and their bows reaching far over the cresting waves in a daring attempt to defy gravity. An old rope swing hung from one of them, cutting into the flesh of the branch from all its use. A worn out canoe sat on the bank, just waiting for a brave soul to take her out on the water. Whenever Mabel would bring Syverson lunch, they would come out here to eat it. 

Today was no different. They ate their lunch quietly, Sy’s arm draped over the backseat with Mabel tucked securely underneath him. She looked up at him as she fed him the last bite of apple pie, chuckling as the fork missed and stabbed him in the lip.

“Goddamn, woman, wha’d ya do that fer?” Sy grumbled, pressing his thumb to his lip to see if he was bleeding. Mabel just laughed, leaning over to lick the remaining pie from his face. Syverson grunted in surprise but quickly recovered, pulling Mabel to straddle his lap as he tangled his fingers in her hair. She kissed him eagerly, feeling the urge to defy her mother in every possible way she could. 

Mabel could feel one of Syverson’s hands inching underneath the skirt of her dress, the other pulling one of the straps down so that he could kiss her bare skin. His touch ignited a desire deep within her, an ache that only he could fill. Her fingertips danced along the hem of his shirt, softly brushing the skin she found underneath. Ever the impatient one, Syverson tugged his shirt over his head to reveal his broad form to her once more, and Mabel did the same with her dress. 

Syverson attacked her lips again, his hands touching every piece of skin he could find. Mabel was struck with a sense of boldness and sat up, pulling away from his mouth. Syverson watched in awe as she calmy reached behind her, unhooking her bra and letting it fall into her lap. He gazed tenderly at her naked flesh, tracing a single finger over her breasts as he did. They’d never been this far. 

Mabel surveyed Syverson’s face as he in turn observed her body. She’d never shown a man this part of her before, and though she was nervous, it also felt right; it was Syverson. He protected her. He cherished her. He loved her. And she wasn’t afraid of him. She wanted him, and only him, to have this from her. This piece of her soul that she’d been unwilling to share with anyone else, she gave to him willingly, gladly. 

Soft, wet, exploratory kisses grazed her nipples, making Mabel moan. She clutched Syverson’s head to her bosom and leaned back, letting him have all the access he wanted. He heartily, hungrily took over, tasting her, touching her, feeling her move against him.

Syverson had been waiting years for this moment. He’d fallen in love with Mabel at the ripe old age of nine, and there’d been no one else in his eyes, not ever. He knew back then that she was the one, and he’d spent the next nine years waiting for her to know it too, basking in her presence, treating her like a queen, stealing kisses from her when he could. It wasn’t until he’d left for war that Mabel finally realized the truth, and that separation had brought them together in a way that nothing else had. 

Still, she had remained guarded. After Danny’s death, Syverson didn’t blame her. Hidden away from prying eyes, a few of their kisses had turned into heated make-out sessions, but Mabel had always stopped them, similarly to last night. Syverson didn’t know what had changed this time, but he wasn’t complaining. He’d reached the point where the shower didn’t help anymore. And Mabel felt too good, tasted too good. 

Mabel was grinding against Syverson with reckless abandon, savoring every delicious wave of pleasure that shot through her body. Syverson slipped a hand beneath her underwear and when his fingers entered her, Mabel’s eyes shot wide open, the new sensation sending shocked cries pouring from her lips. 

“Sy…”

“No, baby, use my name.”

“What?” Mabel breathed, looking at him in confusion as he worked her center. Syverson grasped the back of her neck, locking eyes with her.

“When I make love to ya, I want ya to use my name.”

Mabel understood. She tested it out, relishing the way it felt when it left her tongue.

“Hunter…”

Syverson groaned at the sound of his name on her lips. He was right. Using the hand beneath them as leverage, Syverson wrapped his other arm around her and flipped their bodies into a new position, laying Mabel gently on the seat. She cried out again as his fingers penetrated deeply, hitting a place inside her she never knew existed. 

“Hunter!”

Quick work was made of the rest of their clothes as they joined one another in nakedness. Mabel gulped at the sight of Syverson. If his fingers had been able to make her feel that amazing, she couldn’t imagine the agonizing fireworks she was about to feel once that length was inside her. Syverson crouched over her, gazing into her eyes with desire and admiration.

“Ya sure?” he whispered, brushing her hair from her face. Mabel nodded.

“I want ya.”

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

From the car yard, Mel could see the old Bel Air rocking back and forth, and he shook his head knowingly.

“‘Bout time,” he chuckled to himself, heading back inside to give the kids privacy. 

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

[imagine-loki]

Caught in his web, Chapter 47

TITLE: Caught in his web CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 47 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki is a crime lord, a very dangerous man in the city. He is owed money, but the man is unable to pay Loki back, so Loki takes his daughter as payment instead.  RATING: M

Loki rushed through to the front door, he was about to chuck on his jacket to go and look for Chloe when suddenly the door opened and in she walked, with Bear and Ben.

‘Thank god. I was starting to worry something had happened to you.’ Loki said, relieved.

‘Huh? I bumped into Ben at the shop and he gave us a lift, we stopped at the park on the way back to give Bear a good run so he would be tired out during dinner.’ She motioned to the tired pup in her arms, who was starting to get too heavy to carry.

Loki cupped the back of her head and kissed her forehead. ‘Let me get him settled then. You start dinner, if you’re sure you’re still wanting to cook? We can easily get takeaway.’

‘Not at all.’ Chloe passed Bear to him then grabbed her shopping bags and rushed to the kitchen to get started on dinner.

‘Sorry if you thought I’d stolen your girl.’ Ben teased and patted Loki on the shoulder.

‘I didn’t even know you were with her. It is unusual for you to be late.’ Loki chuckled. ‘Besides, you’re ugly. She would never leave me for you.’ He grinned.

‘Oi!’

Loki got Bear settled now he was tired out, making sure he had enough water and there was nothing lying around that he could chew. Though he was turning out to be a pretty good pup, mainly chewed his own toys. Enjoyed stealing socks, but apart from that was rather well-behaved for his age.

He then went and poured them all some drinks in the kitchen and loitered around while Chloe cooked.

‘What business do we need to discuss tonight?’ Ben asked, taking a sip of his drink.

Loki opened his mouth to reply but before he could, Chloe butted in. ‘No business talk tonight!’

Loki grinned and tilted his head towards her. ‘Of course, darling.’

Ben scoffed. ‘You are so pussy whipped.’

Loki slapped his ear in retaliation, but he heard Chloe sniggering and glared over at her, catching her eye he raised an eyebrow at her, making her giggle as she turned her back on them.

Chloe knew David reasonably well since he was Loki’s closest friend and associate. So she was relaxed with him around. Ben, she had only met a few times. But he seemed nice enough, so she didn’t take long at all to relax this evening. Especially with the wine she was drinking, it helped a lot.

The guys loved the pasta, as expected. Chloe felt rather smug with how clean all their plates were. She was going to have to try another dish sometime though, she thought.

It was good getting to know Ben. He had some funny stories about Loki, too. Since he’d known him for a few years. And he was in love with Bear, as was everyone, he was mingling around under the table, hoping to get food.

‘Chloe.’ Loki said in warning, noticing that she was sneaking Bear a tiny bit of chicken she’d left especially for him.

‘What?’ She asked innocently, quickly dropping the chicken for him.

‘You’ll teach him bad manners.’ He folded his arms over his chest and leaned back.

Chloe shrugged and scratched Bear’s ears. ‘He’s a smart puppy, deserves a little treat now and then.’

‘It’s like dealing with two kids.’ Loki face-palmed, the other two men laughed.

Chloe stuck her tongue out playfully at Loki, making him narrow his eyes at her. But he smirked.

‘How is your fashion course at college going?’ David asked when they retired to the living room for a comfy seat, to have a few more drinks.

‘It’s going really well. Next month I’m doing a placement with a fashion magazine for two weeks, the college organised it. Learn about what they look for in latest trends, photo shoots and stuff. I can’t wait.’ Her face lit up excitedly.

‘Wow, that sounds fantastic! Are you hoping to set up your own fashion line one day?’ He asked.

‘Yep, that’s the ultimate dream. Or work for a really talented designer, if I can’t do my own.’

‘If you work hard, I am sure you can achieve anything.’ Ben smiled. ‘I actually have a few contacts within the fashion business. I’ll see if I can pull a few strings for you.’

‘Really? That would be great, thank you.’

Loki gave her side a squeeze, he was sat right next to her with his arm around her. He was pleased that she was excited about her future. And it was warming that his colleagues were keen to help her out. They knew how much she meant to him now.

Chloe was a little bit tipsy when they decided to call it a night. Ben and David left, getting quick last cuddles from Bear before leaving of course.

Loki made good on his promise of granting Chloe with orgasms when they got to bed. But he also had something else in store that she wasn’t entirely sure about…

After going down on her for near half an hour, bringing her to multiple mind-blowing orgasms that almost had her screaming the whole house down, he flipped her over and started giving attention to her asshole.

She heard the familiar click of the lube lid opening, then she felt his finger prodding about there. She buried her face into the pillow, still taking a moment at first to adjust to the intrusion there.

‘Keep your ass up.’ Loki said, tapping her bum.

She whined and tried to raise it up high enough for him as one finger plunged into her. Then he added a second once he had her a bit more prepared.

‘I’ve been preparing this lovely ass of yours for a while now.’ He hummed, wiggling his fingers about inside her, making her gasp. ‘I think it’s time to finally fuck you in this lovely tight hole. Don’t you think, doll?’

Her head flew up and she tried to move away, Loki held onto her hip firmly and dug his fingers in. ‘Chloe.’ He warned. ‘Behave and stay still. Or I will tie you to the bed.’

Chloe whined, knowing he would do exactly that. But it didn’t stop her from panicking, it was one thing taking his fingers or a butt plug, even though he had been giving her bigger and bigger ones… But it was going to be something completely different having his cock shoved up her ass!

Once he was happy with the fact she was calm again, he let go of her hip and used that hand to work her up more, stimulating her clit and thrusting two fingers in to curl against her g spot. She was still nice and soaking wet from when he’d gone down on her.

‘Be gentle. Please.’ She whimpered, gripping the pillow.

‘Of course, doll. I’ll always look after you.’ He purred, squeezing her bum softly.

He quickly lubed up his hard cock, he was already raring to go. Very excited to plunder into that virgin ass of hers.

But when he pressed the tip against her and started pushing in, even with all the lube and preparing she’d had before it still wasn’t enough for the sheer size of his invasion.

‘No! Stop! Too big!’ She cried and dropped her hips down so his tip fell out of her.

‘Chloe.’ He snarled and grabbed her hips tightly, hauling her back up. He started pressing back into her, but she tried to scramble forwards away from him.

‘Enough!’ He leaned over her more and wrapped an arm around her middle to hold her still and his other hand went around her neck, squeezing in warning.

‘Loki… Please don’t… It’s too big.’ She whimpered as he slowly forced inch by glorious inch further into her. Forcefully spreading her wide open.

He pressed his lips to her ear, hand still firmly around her neck as he kept pushing in. But he did slide his hand from her middle down between her thighs to stroke her clit, making her whimper and accept him a tiny bit easier as she became distracted with the pleasure and also his words.

‘You will take me. I own you, doll. Never forget that. That means every orifice of yours is mine. And I will plunder whatever one I wish to.’ He growled sinisterly.

Whilst Chloe liked the feeling as he stroked her clit, she really didn’t like the way his cock felt inside her ass. It was far too big, stretching her like mad. Even with all the lube he’d used, it still didn’t feel like it was going in easily.

She buried her face into the pillow, sobbing softly in confusion at the pleasure and pain as he started fucking her ass. It was also a stark reminder that even though Loki claimed to love her, and she loved him, he would still make her do things she didn’t want to do.

He was the one with complete control over her. And her body certainly didn’t belong to her.

[thebibliomancer]

Song of the Dark Crystal liveblog pt 5

Song of the Dark Crystal by J.M. Lee because it’s dinner time!

Last time in book: Kylan and Naia have joined forces with Rian to overthrow the Skeksis. Rian’s plan is to go to the All-Maudra with his claims and a vial of Mira goo. To kill time before dinner with Rian’s family, Kylan reads a bunch of rocks and Naia has a nap.

Chapter 5

Dinner is awkward for everyone. Then the plot comes knocking. Rian, Kylan, and Naia make a game plan.

Oops, this is a slightly bigger chapter that ruined my one week streak! But its also a really good chapter that I quite enjoyed!

Mythra leads Kylan and Naia into the kitchen and introduces them to mom Shoni and little brother Timtri.

Like most Stonewood Gelfling, she had long dark hair, and her soft wings were brown and red, with two large black eyespots accented by other dappleso f orange, gold, and tan.

Shoni pretty.

She stops preparing dinner to greet the guests.

Shoni set down her chopping knife and rounded the table to cup Naia’s face and then Kylan’s. Her hands smelled of spices and carrots. It was a warm gesture that Kylan had seen many mothers do, although he couldn’t remember much about his own mother, and certainly Maudra Mera would never have done something so kind to him.

OH MY GOD

Shoni pls adopt this boy right now!

That’s the relationship I ship, Shoni adopts Kylan.

Because, geez, the more Kylan and Mera’s relationship is expounded on, the sadder I feel.

“Hello, my sweets. I’m glad to finally meet you. Please, sit down. Ignore Rian if he’s cold to you. Rian! Fetch our guests something to drink, would you?”

“I can do it, Mother,” Mythra suggested, but Shoni waved her away.

“I want him to do it. It will be good for him.”

Wow. Savage. Rian is having a bad time in these opening chapters.

So, dinner is served on a stone table that seems to be growing out of the ground, leading Kylan to wonder whether the hut or table came first. Dinner is nuts, spiced peach-berries, and diced root.

I wonder if Stone-in-the-Wood doesn’t eat a lot of meat or whether this family doesn’t. Probably meat is a special occasion food.

Shoni asks about how far they’ve traveled which starts a conversation about Landstriders which makes Kylan feel like crap because he’s bad at all the Spriton things.

[Kylan] didn’t want to tell them about his brief foray into riding, the majority of which involved falling off, spooking the beasts, or a combination of the two. Galloping across the plains was one of the many Spriton traditions Kylan had seen much and done little of. There was that, and spear mastering, and bola throwing...

Geez. Kylan needs a hug. And some self-confidence. And another feel good day full of reading.

Actually, its an awkward dinner for other reasons too. Naia mentions that she’s thankful Kylan was good enough at riding to guide them away from the castle and Rian, grim boy that he is, mentions its good because if they didn’t have a Landstrider they would have been caught by the Skeksis.

“Rian!” Shoni scolded. “Now’s not the time. Can’t we enjoy one meal as a family without mentioning... that?”

“I don’t know, Mother. Can we even call ourselves a family when Father -.”

“Enough.”

o_o

Wow. I guess Skeksis are the politics of Thra and discussion of them will just ruin dinner. That and Ordon is hunting down Rian for the Skeksis. Imagine thats contributing.

Rian just bringing it up like that smacked me in the face though.

Shoni flicked her wings once, shrugging off the little argument

Wiiiiiiiing body language! I loves it!

Shoni switches the conversation to safe small talk and asks what the Drenchen do for fun, leading Naia to an enthusiastic explanation of various fun swamp activities.

Here’s one I like.

“When I was younger and argued with my sisters, my mother used to throw gems into the deeper parts of the swamp and make us find them before they sank into the mud. If we couldn’t find a gem, we had to do chores under Great Smerth, cleaning mites from the roots and such.”

That’s good swamp parenting.

Everyone is getting into the conversation about swamp activities. Kylan thinks that Naia sounds like she’s bragging, but in an endearing way. Even Rian seems to be listening to the conversation.

He jumps in to mention that Gurjin told him about the bola tourneys held and starts discussing comparative bolas with Naia. How the Drenchen bola uses shorter rope so it has more force and less chance to tangle.

And Naia gets into the topic of bolas and tries to bring Kylan in to talk about Spriton bolas.

Kylan shrank a little into his shoulders. He appreciated her attempt to include him, but the truth was, he didn’t know how shorter or longer rope changed a bola, or whether smaller or larger stones would be better in the field or forest. He didn’t know, and a part of him didn’t even care. He shrugged.

“I guess,” he said.

His contribution was so small and green, it almost killed the tiny flame of conversation entirely. Naia was ready with kindling words.

I really like that metaphor. But also, wow, this is like every awkward family dinner smooshed into one.

“Kylan is a song teller, and a dream etcher. A very good one! And even so, he can still throw a bola. He struck skekMal the Hunter square in the face.”

Again, Naia was only trying to help, but to Kylan, it sounded less like an endorsement and more as if she were trying to excuse him. As if being a song teller explained his athletic ineptitude, and his single victory in combat redeemed him.

=(

I don’t know how many ways I can say wow what an awkward dinner. Poor Kylan.

Rian grunts approvingly of Kylan bonking the Hunter and adds that he’d love to do that himself one day.

Then the dinner gets EVEN MORE AWKWARD as Maudra Fara shows up. (Fugitive Rian of course hides while she’s visiting.)

An older Gelfing stood outside, dressed in indigos and greens, her dark burgundy-and-gold wings folded along the length of her back like a cloak. From the beads and ornaments woven into her dark hair, Kylan realized who she must be.

Maudra Fara is also pretty.

But she’s here on business. And for Kylan, specifically. She saw a Spriton on the rise and figured hey, a Spriton. Then she received a note about a Kylan.

She tells him “Before you wonder -- it is bad news.” Just ripping the band-aid off. That’s the Fara I know!

To my maudra sisters:

Take note. Lords skekLach and skekMal arrived early this morning. They sought one of mine, a runaway named Kylan. They say he is a traitor. When they did not find him, they took three others as collateral. If you know of Kylan’s whereabouts, send him to me, and I will take responsibility for him.

In Thra’s song,

Dream Stitcher Mera

aw crap Kylan is a fugitive now too.

(I wonder what skekMal’s title is when he’s not being a serial killer. He can’t go by Hunter because that’s his secret identity.)

Naia gets rightly offended at the Skeksis, pointing out that they’re not even hiding their cruelty and accuses them of taking hostages for snacks.

Maudra Fara tells Naia not to talk like that but out of fear instead of loyalty. When Naia keeps talking, Fara just. Pretends she’s not.

Fara is median cool. She’s clearly not willing to risk her village by sticking her neck out and probably wouldn’t back up Rian if he went to her, just as he feared. But instead of capturing Kylan, she gives him this headsup and a head start.

“If Shoni has welcomed you to her home, I won’t betray her hospitality tonight. But the Skeksi are looking for you, and my duty is to my clan. By the time the suns rise, you must be gone from here. Go to your maudra or do not. Go anywhere but here. I’ve got enough on my hands with Rian missing in the woods we share with the Skeksis. I can’t risk the safety of my people any more. Please understand.”

=(

Kylan understands logically but still feels like a kick in the gut to so suddenly be kicked out. And its not explicitly stated but since he is half Stonewood, Kylan has basically been alienated from both of his homes. If he goes to Sami Thicket, Mera will turn him over to the Skeksis. And Fara has made it clear that she won’t risk her people for him.

Even if he hadn’t chosen to continue the quest earlier, he’d be stuck with it.

This is just a huge bummer of a dinner!

Kylan throws the note into the fire but since the paper was enchanted to resist the heat of dream-etching, it takes some time to burn.

H-hey! A neat trivia about dream-etching!

Naia gets mad on Kylan’s behalf who is too kicked in the guy and worried. But Rian comes out of hiding with a more different take. Or at least acceptance.

“She would have sent me away, too, if she’d known I was here. I can’t fault her for it. It’s her duty to do what’s best for the entire clan, not just one or two, or even three of us... The Skeksis will eventually come here, and they will do what it takes to scare the others into giving us up. The only thing that may save us is if no one knows our whereabouts and if we reach the All-Maudra as soon as possible. We should do as Maudra Fara says and leave. Tonight.”

Kylan is too focused on who the Skeksis took from Sami Thicket and whether attempting to rescue them would be a waste of time. And when he comes out of his musing he’s arrived at a different conclusion than Rian.

Not that they don’t need to leave but that heading to the All-Maudra isn’t a good enough plan. Because the Skeksis won’t stop preying on Gelfling or coming after Kylan and Rian and other Gelfling are going to get caught in the crossfire.

Kylan thinks that they should let all Gelfling know the truth so that they can take precautions to protect themselves. But he also gloomily thinks that maybe people will be unwilling to listen to the truth, like Maudra Fara.

Naia sides with Kylan.

“We will tell the All-Maudra,” Naia announced. “But Kylan’s right. The rest of the Gelfling need to know, too. If we focus all of our efforts on reaching the All-Maudra and waiting for her decision, many of our people could be taken by the Skeksis in the meantime. We have to find a way to spread the message faster, and sooner. Like dreamfasting.”

But even with Naia’s Super Cool Dreamfasting it would take too long. They’d have to touch hands with EVERY GELFLING.

Its just not practical and its not like there’s some kind of fire skype! The Gelfling are still in the courier stage of communications technology, drat it!

Shoni pops in and mentions that they could take the path to the High Hill making Rian groan that Aughra will be no help.

Blowing away Kylan that Mother Aughra, huge figure in Gelfling culture, is just casually an option here.

Aughra who is probably as old as the suns, called maudra Thra, lived through the only two conjunctions, and knew the world before Gelfling existed.

That Aughra. Is casually an option. And just casually lives nearby!

“Her home is near our wood, though few make the trek to see her. Even those who arrive often do not find the answers they are looking for... Some find nothing at all. But I think, given how empty our table is, even a crumb would look like hope.”

A rebellion resistance is built on hope!

I’m intrigued that she appears to not be napping forever in this version which makes one wonder why she hasn’t gotten involved because even at her movie grumpiest, she wasn’t callous. She saved Fizzgig the Fizzgig to no benefit to herself.

So what’s her deal in this continuity? And is she as grumpy?

“She’s nothing but a mad witch spouting nonsense and riddles,” Rian grumbled.

“You’ve met her?” Naia asked, as surprised as Kylan but more practical about how the news could serve them. “So you know the way! We can ask her if she knows how we can send out warning.”

“She won’t help!” Rian snapped, his voice escalating suddenly. When Kylan and the others fell quiet, he tried to settle down. Still, his fingers twitched and his thick brows drew tight. “She’s existed since the beginning of time, and the years have eroded her mind. She’s not interested in us. In the Gelfling. She won’t help and I’m not about to waste my time on her.”

That sounds like there’s history there that I’d love to know.

And sounds like if she’s not as grumpy as in the movies she’s at least as difficult.

Did Rian go to her for help after fleeing the castle to no gain? Or did he have a different reason for visiting?

Aughra wasn’t senile in the movie so I don’t think she’d be senile here so what’s her deeeeeal?

Anyway, Rian argues that showing the All-Maudra the vial of Mira goo is the best plan. And Naia argues against putting all their hope on one plan. So Rian says cool I’ll go alone like I wanted to. And Naia says hey buddy this is a team effort.

And Kylan finally points out that they should split up because they’re both basically saying that but arguing about it.

They should split their efforts and making it harder for the Skeksis to catch them.

“We need to work together, apart.”

Oh, I love that turn of phrase.

Kylan shrugged, in case they didn’t like the idea. They were both leaders, and he was a follower, but they weren’t looking at the big picture. To his surprise, though, the suggestion brought a calm to the room. Naia nodded at Kylan, a flash of respect in her eyes.

This is funny for a kind of meta reason. Rian and Naia are both protagonist but Kylan was a supporting character last book but protagonist of this one and he needs to speak up and protag.

Also, Rian and Naia are a bit in the way of being stubborn.

Rian agrees, insofar as he doesn’t think it will matter because his own plan is going to 100% succeed and it gets them out of his (blue-streaked) hair. He even offers to take them partway to High Hill.

Kylan then decides that they should go immediately.

Though he wasn’t eager to forsake the warmth of the stone hut for the cold wilderness of the wood, he felt it was the right thing to do. He had wanted to rest, but it seemed rest was a luxury for which they would find less and less opportunity. Knowing that Maudra Fara thought they were endangering all the Gelfling of Stone-in-the-Wood -- and that they were under orders to leave -- robbed the warm hut of much of its comfort.

=(

That’s a bummer ending to an awkward dinner party.