#I have just. arrived at the moody part

[hobisexually]

x

[starsofang]

CALL OF THE SEA / PART FIFTEEN

pirate poly!141 x f!reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, hallucainations/hearing voices??, inaccurate depictions of medicine, idk how ppl made medicines in 1800s but idc its fiction masterlist a/n: thank u for the love from the hurricane i went thru!! i'm okay and back in business, i love u guys <3 things are gonna get a lil spicyyy

When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.

“Dove,” a voice singsonged, a whisper in the wind that whisked away almost as soon as it appeared.

You halted in your steps, whipping your head around. Standing on the deck, you knew you were alone. You had just been on your way to collect your variety of herbs and powders to teach the Captain of medicine making, yet the sense of dread overtook you the moment you heard your name called out.

Looking out into the vast sea, there was nothing. A heavy mist clouded the air from the storm that was brewing mere lengths away, its arrival unknown. It clouded over the horizon, hiding away what lay beyond in the dull, gray atmosphere.

Yet, Graves had spoken yet again, as if he had sent his voice to travel miles upon miles just to get a rile out of you. It felt like a warning, letting you know he was still present, and very much still attached.

“The one who heals the ill and poor,” Graves echoed tauntingly, a dark chuckle rasping at the end of his words. “The one who has the 141 in knots. That’s you, isn’t it, dove?”

You couldn’t see him, and you weren’t sure whether that was ideal or not. You knew he wasn’t there physically, hell, you weren’t sure it was even really him talking. Your mind could be playing tricks on you.

The words of the prophecy were spoken with such mockery, the ones referring to your very role. The venom in his tone made you queasy. A cold chill dripped down your spine, causing the hairs on your neck to stand.

“Oh, this will be fun,” he cooed. “I’ll be seeing you.”

Stood frozen in place, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the horizon. It was gloomy, and you were beginning to mirror that feeling. You felt toyed with — like a puppet on a shelf, waiting to be used when Graves deemed you useful.

“What are ye doin’ down there, dove?” a voice called. “Looks like ye seen a ghost.”

The faint snickering had you tilting your head up in the direction it came from. Soap sat high up in the crow’s nest, peering down at you mischievously. His broad arms rested on the rim of the nest, leaning lazily.

“I am fine,” you scowled, quickly regaining your composure. Graves crept menacingly in the corners of your mind. “What are you doing up there?”

“She’s a crow’s nest for a reason. I’m watchin’ for the storm, seein’ if I can spot anythin’ out of the ordinary like I’m a bird, birdie” Soap explained with a grin, cocking his head. “What are ye doin’ down there?”

You frowned at him, unamused. “I plan on teaching the Captain how to make medicine,” you replied. “I’m just going to collect my things. It is wealthy to have knowledge in medicines, you know.”

Soap blew out a puff of air, waving his hand dismissively. “If I have any more knowledge up in this noggin’ of mine, it might explode.” He made a point of knocking his knuckles against his head.

“I do not believe there is much in there at all,” you sighed, unable to force a small smile away. Even in times of fear and uncertainty, you couldn’t deny the way Soap put you at ease.

“Ach, yer a bird that bites. What happened to bein’ a sweet bird?” he mumbled in feigned hurt, lips puckered into a pouted frown.

Your smile grew and you shook your head. “Where is Ghost?” you asked. Soap rubbed the back of his neck, fingers twirling into his messy mullet.

“That lad. Locked himself up again, he did. I think the weather’s makin’ him all moody. He helped me out for a bit before goin’ back, so I’m not sure what’s wrong,” he explained sympathetically. There was a hint of hurt at being shut out.

It made you recall the two of them. Embracing. Whispering amongst each other. Ghost, unmasked, leaning into his touch.

You tried your hardest to not let it shift your expression, even if it dug a little hole somewhere in your heart to be reminded of what you didn’t have.

“I see,” you hummed, playing off your tormenting thoughts and shoving them to the side with the rest. “I am… happy that he has someone like you.”

Soap’s eyebrows rose in surprise. He stared at you, confused, before smiling softly. “Ah, c’mon, dove. Ye got us, too.”

Not in the way your heart longed for. But that was a thought that attempted to fiddle with your mind and leave you stranded on an island of foreign feelings far, far away.

You weren’t sure what you desired, anyway.

“Right,” you agreed with a curt nod. “I’ll be going now. Please, do not fall while I’m gone — or do. I have not been able to aid anybody in quite a long time.”

Soap laughed, the sound rumbling you to the core. “Mean li’l bird,” he teased.

With a smile, you continued on to your quarters, shoving any strange ideas behind and focusing on the task at hand. Price was still waiting for you, after all.

Entering your shared space, you nearly cursed the world for putting Gaz in there. While you hadn’t quite avoided him like you wanted to, that was due to the others being around. Now, here alone, was different.

“Hello, Gaz,” you greeted stiffly, giving him a nod. You quickly retreated to your side of the room, which really was Soap’s clutter. You needed to organize it soon or you may lose your mind.

“Dove,” Gaz hummed from where he laid in bed, arms resting behind his head in a lazy position. His eyes followed you like a hawk as you rummaged through the bag taken from your village on your first night with the pirates.

The resources you’d been forced to bring so long ago were now going to be of use, which was something you wished to be excited for—yet, the elephant in the room was a downpour on your mood.

You felt ridiculous. It was not as if you were avoiding him in rejection—it was that it was not rejection that you were avoiding him.

Your heartstrings seemed to tighten and pull whenever he was near, and it made you feel crazy. It felt like you couldn’t catch a break, constantly toying with your own feelings.

What was this feeling of longing you so hopelessly seemed to feel differently with each of them? Was it still the craving for a sense of belonging?

“Is someone hurt?”

You glanced up from your bag, fingers pausing. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before realization took over and you shook your head. “No. I am teaching Price the ways of medicine.”

So much for avoiding him.

“Is that so?” he asked. You weren’t sure why his tone seemed so… off. As if there were a taste of bitterness to it.

You recalled the night you threw your food at him from the stuffiness of your cell below deck when he had done nothing but try and quench your hunger. He truly was not a fan of you, nor you him. While you were scared, he was protective of his kin.

Now, his tone was a grave reminder of how much time had passed, and how different things were.

You gave him another stiff nod, watching as he stood from the bed. Your heart pounded in your chest, banging against your rib cage with every step he took closer.

When he finally stopped, he was mere inches away, standing tall and proud over you. You focused your gaze on his chest, mapping the loosely tied strings that hung from the middle of his billowy shirt. You were overcome with spikes of awkward anxiety and unable to connect eyes with him.

Seeing this, he tilted his head down, cocked to the side in a mocking way. He forced your gaze to meet his from leaning down alone, and you held your breath at the sight of slight annoyance burrowed somewhere in his expression.

“Are you avoidin’ me?” he asked lowly.

You attempted to swallow the lump in your throat. Your hands grew clammy, and you couldn’t take them out of your bag to wipe them on your dress or else he’d know.

“No,” you stammered, frowning. “I am just— Price is waiting for me.”

Was he angry that you did not reciprocate a kiss? It was not your fault—you had never shared one.

“There is no playful banter. Nor even a gaze in the eye,” he commented.

“I am looking at you right now,” you defended weakly.

“What you’re doin’ is actin’ different,” he said slyly, mirroring your frown. “What, you hand me a gift, a beautiful one, and now that I have read the signs wrong, you wish to hide from me?”

“That—” You inhaled sharply. “That is not what is happening.”

“So, I have read them right, then.”

“I do not know what signs you are referring to.”

“Don’t be daft, dove.”

Your fingers tightened around a small jar in your bag, knuckles going white. You wanted to avoid the forced eye contact altogether, but now you could not look away. It was as if you were in a trance.

“It is improper to refer to a woman as daft,” you hissed in defense.

“You’re unlike any woman I’ve ever met,” Gaz mused, his head tilting once again.

This is what he wanted, and you were giving it to him. He wanted the banter, the jests, to see you grow irritated to tug a reaction from you, and unfortunately, it was working.

“You have never been kissed before?” he continued.

Your ears were beginning to ring. Your entire body felt hot to the touch, like a scorching fire burned through your veins and trickled its way up to your brain.

“That is inappropriate, Gaz,” you tried, though your defense was weak. He was right. He was always right, and you hated it. “I must return to Price. I—I cannot have this conversation.”

“You will have to avoid the whole sea if you believe I am the only one,” he stated calmly, growing soft now that his initial annoyance was wearing off. “Do not make me the one to suffer.”

You stared at him, mouth opened to speak but the words lost in translation. You felt like you were betraying yourself by choosing to avoid him out of mere uncertainty. You were only doing a disservice to yourself.

The words he spoke laid heavy on your mind, but you were unable to decipher the true meaning. Perhaps you were avoiding that, too.

The two of you said nothing, sitting in tense silence as you hurried to throw your bag over your shoulder. You didn’t want Price to slam open his door and search for you, believing you accidentally fell into the treacherous waters and sunk below the angry sea.

You shuffled to the door, hand hovering over the handle. You risked a weary glance over your shoulder, seeing Gaz standing and watching you with keen eyes, a glint of something unrecognizable in them.

You had nobody else to feel sorry for but yourself.

“I will not avoid you,” you muttered quietly. “I do not think I have the strength to do so, anyway. Not with you.”

You tugged open the door, excusing yourself.

The chill in the air was refreshing against your warm skin, cooling off the heat that radiated off of you like a furnace. As you returned to Price’s quarters, your mind was scrambled, overloaded with millions of thoughts that plagued you.

The wind rustled and blew, and you could only pray there wasn’t a familiar whisper hiding in its trail. It seemed as if the universe had plenty of tricks up its sleeve today, and it was dealing them all to you one by one.

When you looked up at the crow’s nest as you walked by, Soap remained. He gave you a smile when you passed, and it made the worry in your stomach simmer to a low boil.

“You took quite some time,” Price noted as you stepped inside. “Did you walk the plank along your way?”

You chuckled, shaking your head and shooing the bag off your shoulder. It fell to the desk with a small thud. “I ran into Soap,” you explained.

“I see.” Price smiled in acknowledgment. “Alright, dove. Let’s begin, hm?”

“You are not very good at this.”

You watched as Price attempted to grind a mix of herbs and powder in the bowl you lent him. Teaching him how to make a paste meant for burns proved fruitless, as he seemed to mess up the measurements when you weren’t looking.

“That’s why you’re the expert, dove,” he huffed in annoyance, laser focused on grinding the end of the wooden stick into the roundness of the bowl, mashing down the mixture. “I do not see how this will become a paste.”

“Did you mix in the drops of water like I told you?” you asked.

He glowered at the clear dropper you held up, which seemed just as full as when you first started. He snatched it up, squeezing a couple of drops into the failed paste for good measure, then continued mixing.

“Was I correct?” you teased, peering down into the bowl. You were pleased to see it mixing much more smoothly, almost like thick butter.

“Silence,” he grunted, shooting a weak glare your way. “I pray this medicine proves to be useful.”

“It is for burns to ease the flare up of the skin,” you explained, keeping an eye on the mixture. “I am sure it will come in handy.”

Price hummed, mashing the paste until he seemed satisfied. He shifted the bowl towards you, waiting for approval. The idea of it made you snort—a Captain, seeking approval from his ex-prisoner.

“It is not bad,” you praised, earning him a furrow of his eyebrows. “Much better after the water.”

He gave you a look, unamused, eyeing you as you shoveled the paste into an empty jar. You were happy to add it to the collection, though you wished you had the opportunity for a room for yourself to display them. Soap and Gaz’s room was feeling crowded.

“I am only teasing,” you said with a smile. “It’s almost as good as mine.”

Price snorted, smiling back. “Aye, I’m a Captain, not a medic. That’s your specialty,” he retorted.

“And will this medic ever get a room of her own? Or perhaps a place to work?”

He raised an eyebrow. You mirrored him. “Are the boys not fun to room with?”

Images of Gaz earlier flashed in your mind. You swallowed. “No, they are just fine. But I am a woman, after all. It is not… suitable.”

Price made a noise of acknowledgment, nodding slow. He seemed to be thinking, a hand brushing through his beard and stroking his bottom lip.

“That is… understandable. Forgive me, I have not had a woman on my ship until you. It slipped my mind that you roomin’ with those two may not be entirely appropriate,” he replied thoughtfully.

“You forced me to sleep with you on my first night out of the brig,” you reminded him.

Price paused his stroking, blinking at you. For a moment, you lost him, his mind running astray. You could only stare back patiently.

“Would you prefer to stay here, then?” he asked. “You may find much more peace in here than with them., or if you'd like, you may switch off between quarters.”

You felt your body tense up at the mere thought. You knew no matter who you stayed with, it would be a gamble. Each of them had your heart on lock in an unfamiliar way, and the thought of staying with Price again had your stomach twisting into knots.

Gaz popped up once again, and you wondered if that decision would solidify your act in avoiding him. A pang of guilt hit your chest.

“You would not mind?” you asked wearily.

Price shrugged. “I may prefer it, actually.”

Your expression morphed into confusion, eyebrows pulling together and lips curling into a frown. He’d prefer to spend nights with you, rather than allowing you to cram into a small bed with Soap in the late hours of the night?

You thought the Captain valued his privacy and solitude. Now that he was offering you to stay on his own rather than out of fear of you running off to islands unknown, it felt much more personal.

“You’d prefer it?”

“Yes,” he confirmed.

“Why?”

The Captain paused, narrowing his eyes at you. You were curious at to what he could be thinking about.

The door to his quarters opened, silencing your conversation rather quickly. The wind sounded much louder now without barriers between the inside and outside, and when you whipped your head to look at the doorway, Soap stood, drenched in water.

You were so focused on your time with Price and your craft, you hadn’t noticed the uneasy rockiness of the ship that seemed to grow with every second.

“The storm’s brewin’ real fast, Cap,” Soap breathed, lightly heaving. He must’ve climbed down the nest in a haste. “We need to get her steady. It’s comin’ down faster than we thought.”

The Captain stood quickly, giving him a nod. “Go collect Gaz and Ghost,” he ordered. Soap agreed, tossing the door closed and leaving you alone. “Dove, you’re stayin’ here.”

“I must be of help—”

“Here,” he repeated, tapping his finger on the desk. “That’s an order.”

You wanted to protest, but the look on his face was gloomy. You watched him leave his quarters and enter the battlefield of heavy rain that spilled over on to the deck.

Something in your heart tugged, but this time, not out of longing, or envy—it was worry. Sure, you faced many storms in your village, but never on a ship where one wrong move could send you right below the waves and have you never come back up again.

You felt helpless as you sat, thumbs twiddling mindlessly in your lap as you hoped and pray the ship would become steady enough for them to return to safety.

“Dove.”

The crashing sound of cracking thunder had you jolting in your seat. You did as the Captain ordered and stayed put, but you were becoming restless. The longer you stayed, the more your feeling of cold dread grew.

You knew where it was coming from. It was the very thing living inside your head, and you wondered if Ghost could hear it, too.

You couldn’t sit anymore. You got to your feet, quickly throwing open the door to a monsoon.

The ship swayed with the heavy, angry waves that crashed harshly against the sides of the ship. It made you lose balance, and you grabbed on to the doorway to steady.

Gaz and Soap stood under the rainfall, water soaking into their skin and clothes as they heaved the sails closed, holding the ropes to guaranteed they stayed.

Ghost was lifting heavy baggage that had yet to be stored away, thrown over his shoulder as he hurried to transport them to a dry part of the ship.

The Captain stood at the helm, his hair flat against his forehead and dripping water all the way down to his beard. He was mastering the steering of the ship, barking orders at Soap and Gaz while the two attempted to keep the sails at bay.

“Isn’t this fun, dove?” Graves whispered. You wished you could claw out your own eardrums.

You knew he was near. Before, you couldn’t feel his presence—now, it felt stronger than ever.

You frantically looked around, hoping to spot him somewhere out at sea, but the rain was too heavy. The sky had been darkening, giving off an ominous hue covered by storm clouds. You wouldn’t be able to see him from below.

Your eyes landed on the crow’s nest, the net of rope leading up to it swaying in the crazy wind. Soap had been up there mere hours ago, watching the storm and charting its location.

Without a moment of hesitation, you sprinted in the cold rain, heading towards your destination.

“Dove?” Soap called out in confusion, before recognizing you. “Dove! What are ye doin’?”

You began your ascent, just as Gaz had joined in calling for you. With them unable to leave the ropes of the sails behind, they couldn’t chase after you, stopping you from your foolish moment of cleverness.

“What the hell is she doin’ out?” Price growled, his firm voice quieter in the winds chasing it away.

The rope creaked as you planted your feet in the gaps, climbing your way up to the nest. The higher up you got, the more the breeze increased its abuse, whipping along your face in a serious of angry smacks.

The pirate’s voices grew farther away as you approached the crow’s nest. Their tones were ones of concern, fear, and worry as you scrambled your way on to the rugged, old wood platform, hauling yourself up.

You needed to know if your thoughts were true—if Graves truly was here, or if it was another one of his tricks.

You stood on the crow’s nest, holding yourself steady with a firm grip of the sides. You looked out into the void, scanning for anything, any sign—and there it was.

A ship, not too far off in the distance, swaying with the waves with its front nose pointed in the direction of your ship. A large sail flapped in the wind, and it was so misty you nearly couldn’t see it until a familiar white outline of a skull appeared, waving as if saying hello.

Graves was setting sail right towards the ship, and he had every intention of riding out the storm until he reached you.

[avatar-anna]

I have a requeeestt. Would you write something where ice skater y/n has her period and she has practice and it’s just NOT her day. And she doesn’t feel super comfortable telling Harry but he figures it out and just like pure fluff 🙊💗

Grumpy

part one, part two, bonus, bonus, bonus

Harry's girlfriend was a delight. An absolute ray of sunshine. The sweetest human on the plan—

"Fuck off, Niall. I bet your 'superior athleticism' wouldn't last you one ballet class."

Most of the time. She was a ray of sunshine most of the time.

Harry looked up from his phone and saw Y/n talking to a few of his teammates. They were all snickering and laughing as if what she said was funny, which only made her fists curl at her sides, and while he would've found it rather entertaining for her to take a swing at one of them, he would rather not have his friends and girlfriend be on bad terms.

"You ready to go?" Harry asked, sliding his hand over Y/n's and unfurling her fist.

Her face was set in a scowl as she looked over at the boys she'd been speaking to. For the most part they got along great, Niall specifically. They had a sibling-like relationship and often teased one another, but Niall must've said something about figure skating, and that was one thing that would make you public enemy number one in Y/n's eyes. And if she was already grumpy? Harry met his friend's gaze and tried to send a clear message with his eyes: Cut it out.

Because Y/n could throw a punch, and while she was significantly smaller than his teammates, she had a mean right hook.

Y/n gave Harry a nonverbal grunt that she was ready to leave the rink. But she did lean into the tiny kiss he placed on her cheek, which was something.

"Yeah, Harry, take your girl home. I think she's on her period or something."

"Excuse me?"

"Okay, time to go," Harry said quickly, pulling Y/n away from his teammates and sending one final look at Niall.

As they walked to the car, Y/n handed her keys to Harry unceremoniously and slipped her hand out of his to cross her arms over her chest. He could practically see the steam coming out of her ears, so he let her stew in her bad mood for a little while. She must've had a rough training session, which could mean she messed up a lot or hardly at all, but Y/n was an extremely tough critic, so it was hard to be sure of which one if he wasn't there to watch.

Y/n's arms stayed crossed as they drove back to his apartment. Harry was fine with it, knowing the grumpiness wouldn't last. It normally didn't with Harry, a fact that he was extremely proud of. Except when he rested his hand on her thigh—close to her knee, he wasn't trying to start anything—she shook it off and shifted so her body faced the window.

"What was that for?"

"For being friends with neanderthals," she muttered. "Especially that one."

"'That one' is your friend, bub," Harry said, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice. "And wait—does that make me a neanderthal?"

"He was out of line. And no," she said, still facing the window, the last part almost an afterthought.

"I'll make sure he apologizes," he promised.

Harry leaned over at a stop light to kiss Y/n's temple. She didn't shrug him off or push him away, which was a good sign, though Harry now had a sneaking suspicion of what was going on. He didn't say anything the rest of the drive, happy to let his girlfriend be grumpy for the rest of the drive. As long as it wasn't directed at him, he was fine.

When they arrived, Harry shouldered both of their bags and handed her the keys to his apartment. "Go ahead and get in the shower. I'll meet you in there in a few minutes."

At that, he could practically see Y/n's grumpy facade start to crumble, but she nodded wordlessly and trudged up the stairs. Harry followed suit, setting their bags down and rustling through his small kitchen, trying to remember where he kept the emergency stash of her favorite snacks.

He realized that it was probably Y/n's time of the month. She became particularly moody around then, and it only took a couple minutes for Harry to put the pieces together. Should Niall have said anything? No, but the fact that he was right probably pissed Y/n off even more.

Harry grabbed a few things before heading down the hallway, the sound of water running growing louder as he got closer to the bathroom. He headed to his room first, setting Y/n's snacks and a couple other things down before kicking off his shoes and leaving to join Y/n like he promised.

"Need some help?"

Y/n was just standing beneath the spray coming from the shower head, not washing her hair or her face, the first steps in a detailed routine. She shrugged as he stepped into the shower, his hands smoothing over her shoulders before kissing the top of one gently.

"What's hurting?" he asked, continuing to snake his arms around her to hold her close.

"My boobs, my back, my ego, and I have the worst cramps," she huffed, but Harry detected the slight shift in her voice. Now that they were alone, she was trying not to cry. "He should try playing his precious sport while his uterine lining is shedding."

"I know," Harry said, reaching for the shampoo she used and squirting some in his hand. "Scalp only, right?"

Y/n nodded, some of the tension leaving her body when he started massaging the shampoo into her scalp. He worked slowly, trying to let the day wash off of her, murmuring to her and kissing parts of her body occasionally. When the actual bathing part of the shower was over, Harry turned Y/n around to face him, his kisses becoming more drawn out, sensual. His hands were soft, but firm, trying to knead away the soreness in her breasts and back.

Y/n sighed, eyes fluttering closed as she leaned into his touch. Both of them could feel him growing hard, it was hard not to give the circumstances, but neither of them said anything about it. Harry wasn't really focused on himself at the moment.

"Want me to use the shower head?" he asked.

Y/n shook her head. "I want you."

"Yeah?"

Peeking one eye open, she said, "Don't be so smug about it."

Harry chuckled softly and reached a hand up to hold one side of her face. "Me? Never."

For the first time all afternoon, Y/n grinned, but it quickly turned into a frown. "We can't."

"Baby, we're in the shower."

"Still, I think it's gross." But even as she said it, she moaned when he began to kiss her again.

They had this debate every time Y/n was on her period, but Harry always managed to find some way around it. For her sake, not his. He knew they both wanted to, but Y/n never believed him when he insisted he didn't mind if she was on her period. His solution was usually the detachable showerhead, but she didn't seem to want that this time.

"Here," Harry said, an idea sparking. He sat down, the tiles cold against his skin as he brought Y/n down with him. She didn't follow though, staying standing, her arms crossed over her body. "Would you get down here? I promise I won't even look. See?"

Harry covered his eyes with one hand, then raised them to show that his eyes were closed underneath.

"You promise you won't look?"

"Won't even watch you come, which is arguably my favorite part," Harry said, only half teasing.

He kept his promise to keep his eyes closed, so he couldn't tell if or when Y/n decided, though when he felt her settle over his lap, he had a pretty good idea. She draped herself over him, tucking herself close to him when he was fully settled inside her. Harry couldn't tell if she just wanted to sit like this or if she wanted more, but all he got was a contented sigh in his ear, which didn't really help.

"Okay, you can go now," Y/n said after a few minutes had passed, voice soft and a little slow as if she'd just woken up from a long nap.

Harry couldn't help but laugh a little. "I have to keep my eyes closed and do all the work?"

Y/n only nodded, not moving from where she was tightly hugging him. Harry was amused, but not all that surprised. She despised the term, but Y/n was without a doubt the textbook definition of a pillow princess. She had a pretty tough exterior, but once they were alone, she melted, becoming more needy and letting Harry take control. She liked being praised for taking all of him and behaving for him. His good girl, Harry once called her, and after she lit up from it, he called her that anytime they were intimate. He thrived off of it, Y/n's eagerness to please and the way she let him have his way with her.

Harry maneuvered himself a little, earning a few gasps and whimpers from Y/n. When he finally found a good enough position to hold her while not slipping on the slick tiles, he nudged the side of her cheek with his nose.

"I need at least a kiss first." He was keeping his word, so his eyes were still shut, but when Y/n slotted her lips over his and gripped the wet curls that were pressed to the nape of his neck, he grinned, focusing on the sensation of her kiss. With his eyes closed, Harry felt everything. Every shift of her hips, every clench she made around him, it was almost torturous, but he held off driving into her until he thought she was ready. "Thank you, bub. Be as loud as you want, okay?"

That only made her squeeze him tighter, and Harry took that as his signal to get started. It was slow as he tried to find the right rhythm, listening closely to how Y/n was reacting. Usually he was able to tell by the little faces she made, but he went off her sounds and how hard she squeezed her arms around his neck.

Harry murmured in Y/n's ear the whole time, letting her know how good she felt around him and to touch herself however she wanted. By the end of it, she was all molten limbs and tired, satisfied eyes, kissing all over his face as he smoothed back her hair. Harry gave her a couple minutes to come back down from her high before he helped her stand back up and let her get dressed while he showered properly.

Later that night, Y/n was sleeping in Harry's bed, a heating pad strapped to her back while she stayed tucked into his chest. They'd watched a couple movies and eaten her favorite snacks, and at one point Y/n crawled into his lap to ride his thigh when she claimed she needed another orgasm. Harry was happy to give her one, happy to let her use him how she liked, though he had to help her hips along after a couple minutes.

All the grumpiness from earlier was gone. She had nothing but kind words and sweet nothings and little jokes she mumbled to him as they continued watching a show they started together, which was when she promptly fell asleep. Harry was right behind her, he just had to send a text first.

Y/n's ballet training is at 8am on Wednesday. Be there.

Harry had promised Y/n Niall would apologize, and he couldn't think of a better way than his friend struggling to plié. He didn't need to add or else or any other kind of threat. It was unnecessary. Niall had pissed off Y/n, and he knew Harry would make him pay if he didn't make it right.

After sending the text he set his phone down and settled deeper into the pillows. Y/n shuffled around a little, then murmured, "Little spoon."

Harry understood immediately, turning over so she could wrap her arms around him and rest her cheek on his back. With that, Y/n fell back asleep, and Harry gave one last kiss to her knuckles before following suit.

[lyjen]

North West Corner | Part 2

Summary: After the reveal of (y/n)’s pregnancy, she gets put on light duties. A few shifts after the factory fire, Evan gets shot on duty. Can (Y/n) herself and her body handle the amount of stress it gives her?

Request

Taglist: @oliviah-25 @shauna-carsley

<< previous chapter | 9-1-1 Masterlist

__________________

A smile was spread across Evan’s face, even his eyes were smiling, he had this kind of sparkle in his eyes that made him look like a little boy in a toy shop. His eyes were locked onto his girlfriend, who was just arriving on scene in the ambulance.

Since the factory fire and the incident happened on the scene, Bobby had made the choice to put (Y/n) on light duties. Not only because she had a heart attack that day, but also because she was pregnant. And with light duties they meant: (Y/n) would switch places with Chimney.

Chimney usually would be Hen’s partner, helping her with victims and treating them. But now that she couldn’t risk doing heavy lifting, and running into burning buildings, they had no other choice but to switch.

She would be further away from the action, the work she loved the most and she may only know the basics, but she would learn during the process. But at least she could still work and make herself helpful on scene.

“If it isn’t my favorite temporary paramedic” (Y/n) could hear the oh so familiar voice say as it came closer with every word. She smiled and shut the passenger door with a bang. She turned around and walked towards the back of the ambulance, as her eyes slowly wandered from the ground to Evan walking towards her.

“Really? You just had to put that word in front of it, did you?” she laughed as she felt his arm slowly being placed onto her shoulder.

“What? I meant it in the way that you’re coming back to truck, eventually.” He said. But when he didn’t receive an answer he tried to talk it right, again. “I mean after you give birth to our mini (Y/n) of course.” he continued, and pressed a small, but warm kiss onto the side of her head.

(Y/n) opened the backdoors of the ambulance and she broke free from Evan’s arm around her shoulder, and stepped inside of the ambulance. “How are you so sure that we’re getting a daughter anyways? Maybe it’s a mini Buck” (Y/n) said as she got a pair of blue gloves out of a box.

“I googled for signs you’re having a girl. And a lot of those things they said are things you have or had.” Evan says as he quickly slipped out his phone and started scrolling and showing (Y/n) the website. In the meanwhile (Y/n) was busy putting everything she needed on the gurney.

“Like here, you suffered morning sickness during the first twelve weeks. You had that. And oh here, you’re craving more sweets..” he was rattled. He was so enthusiastic, he couldn’t hear her. “Buck..” she said in a warning tone. “And another one is, You’re more moody.” But suddenly he stopped, he saw the way (Y/n) looked at him and shook her head.

“I’m sorry.. It’s just.. I just know we’re getting a girl! I can feel it.” Evan says with a smile on his face, it looked like he just won the lottery. He felt a little guilty for calling her moody, but those were just the facts. But that wasn’t the reason she called his name with that tone.

“You know what I can feel? You, being up on that aerial in a minute.” Bobby’s voice spoke, the lottery winning expression on his face disappeared within less than one second as he could hear his captain's voice in his ears.

Evan closed his eyes for a second as he let his lips form a thin line.

Busted.

”What are you chit chatting for? There’s a building on fire and a man stuck on his balcony. Let’s go!” Bobby said as he clapped his hands together.

He collected all his confidence and turned around. “On it cap!” Buck said as he started to jog towards the truck. But stopped as soon as he took two steps, and turned on his heels again. He ran back towards the rig and he stepped in the ambulance. “I forgot something” he said and pressed a kiss onto her cheek as she placed another medic bag on the gurney.

His lips disconnected from her cheek as he now, carefully stepped out of the back of the ambulance and ran towards the truck. The aerial was already being sent up towards the right balcony where the man was waving.

“What did he need?” Hen said as soon as she appeared in the opening of the ambulance. “Oh you know, he keeps telling me we’re having a girl” she said as she shrugged her shoulders. It was something she was used to now. From the moment she told him she was pregnant, he told her he was sure she was having a girl.

“He’s holding on to that huh?” Hen laughed. (Y/n) nodded, as they rolled out the gurney. Hen pushed the button to make the legs of the gurney extend and to touch the ground. “You have no idea” (Y/n) spoke and hopped out of the ambulance.

Hen started to wheel the gurney towards the triage as (Y/n) quickly closed the back doors, and jogged to catch up with Hen.

“I’m here and ready to go!” Evan said as soon as his legs stopped moving and he grabbed his helmet out of the compartment. “Are you sure? I can go up too.” Eddie said.

“Nah you went last time, and I’m pretty sure Cap will kill me if I’m not on that ladder in a few seconds.” Evan said with a laugh. Eddie nodded at his answer, and made a gesture with his arm to tell him that it’s all his.

Evan placed his helmet onto his head and patted it. He made his way up the roof of the truck and he started to climb up the aerial. After a few steps he gestured towards Eddie, who was at the panel to move the aerial if he needed to, to move the aerial a little more up. “A little higher Eddie” he spoke through the radio as he made the gesture. “Copy that, raising the aerial” Eddie copied through his radio.

He held onto the two railings to the side as Eddie moved the aerial a little higher. He made a fist, as soon as it was the same height as the balcony of the man. “That’s good Eddie, going to the victim now” Evan spoke into his radio and let go of the speak button.

“LAFD, hold on sir. I’m coming to you.” he said as loud as he could, to make himself audible for the man on the balcony. He holds his hand out, with a flat hand, trying to gesture to the man to tell him to keep calm.

The man on the balcony couldn’t get out by the rescue squad since the hallway of his level was completely on fire. There was no getting through, so they sent the aerial up, including Evan.

He was a few steps from helping the man on the balcony as he heard a loud bang echoing through the skies.

(Y/n) gets pushed down by her shoulder as soon as she hears the bang through the air. “Firefighter down! I repeat, firefighter down!” her brother’s voice roared through the radio. Her stomach turned as she heard Eddie’s voice ringing through her ears. His voice was full with agony, terrified.

“Buck..” she mumbled as she locked eyes on the aerial and saw him lying flat onto the ladder. Without thinking, she stood up straight and wanted to make her way towards the truck. But after not even three steps, an arm stopped her in her tracks. “Are you insane! You’re staying here!” Bobby said as he held an arm in front of her body. Telling her not to go any further.

“With all due respect, the father of my baby is up there. Injured. You can’t just expect me to stand here and do nothing.” (Y/n) hissed back at Bobby.

Evan’s vision was blurry, a force sent him forward, causing him to slip and slide a few steps down. But his hand was right now holding one of the steps. A torturing pain was burning in Evan’s chest, but the adrenaline made the pain bearable.

He was lying flat onto the aerial, holding on as his feet were blindly searching for steps to give his chest some rest. As soon as his feet found one of the steps of the ladder, he looked up to the balcony, which was now further away than he was a few seconds ago.

His eyes locked with the man’s eyes who was standing on the balcony. But not even two seconds later, Evan saw a bullet flying through the man’s head. Causing him to fall.

A man was shot through his head, right in front of his eyes.

His ears were ringing, he could hear his own heart beating like it was trying to break free from his chest and his breathing was zooming through his ears. Everything around him sounded dull. As if he was wearing headphones without any music.

He could hear muffled screams, people telling others what to do, just pure panic.

Evan wanted to move from the aerial. But he couldn’t move. The only thing he could do was lie flat onto the aerial ladder and watch at the now empty space where the man was just a few seconds ago. He was zoned out, gawking. He needed his mind and body to catch up with whatever was going on.

“Come on.. Come on..” (Y/n) murmured as she watched her brother climbing the ladder, trying to assist Buck down. When she sees Eddie reaching the top of the ladder truck, pushes past Bobby, whose arm was down again, not blocking her way anymore.

She quickly runs towards a gurney which was not being used, and runs towards the side of the truck where other firefighters were helping Eddie to escort Buck down to the ground.

He carefully gets put onto the gurney, as she quickly grabs his hand and squeezes it. His eyes were closed. She was praying, please don't make her do chest compressions on him. “Buck, can you hear me?” she sounded as Hen carried a medic bag and got out the scissors, to cut open the fabric that was covering his chest. “Buck!” her voice was trembling, filled with adrenaline and fear.

But then his eyes started to flutter open. “Are…are you hurt?” he stumbled in a whisper. He was fighting to keep his eyes open. “What? No.. No.. I’m fine” she answered, he got hurt and this is the first thing he’d ask her? (Y/n) brought his hand closer to her and pressed her lips on the top of his hand. Telling him she was there, with him.

She could see Evan’s eyes rolling. “I know you’re tired. But I need you to hold on. Stay with me!” She said as she placed his hand next to his body onto the gurney. “No exit wound, the bullet is still in there.” She concluded as she pushed him up a little. Hen reached out and passed (Y/n) gauze, to keep pressure on the wound.

Hen put the medic bag onto the gurney between Evan’s legs. (Y/n) stepped onto a metal beam from the gurney, to be steady enough to keep pressure on the GSW. They rushed the gurney towards the ambulance as (Y/n) kept the pressure firmly on the wound.

The gauze she was holding onto the wound was becoming soaking wet with his blood. With one hand she kept the pressure on as she found a new package of gauze. With her mouth she ripped off the top of the package and got out the new piece. She was sure she let the package fly somewhere on scene. But that didn’t matter right now.

She felt Evan’s hand touching her arm, slightly. His grip went looser, and looser. Until his hand wasn’t holding her arm any more and started to fall down onto the gurney again. “Buck?” She called out his name. She noticed his eyes rolling to the back of his head. “He’s losing too much blood! We’re losing him!” She said, or actually kind of screamed.

(Y/n) pressed her fingers against his neck, as she tried to find a pulse. She felt a lump in her throat. Her heart was beating so fast, it was like she ran a marathon and it was getting harder for her to breathe. “I can’t feel a pulse!” She yelled. “Hen, I need you to keep pressure on the wound” she ordered.

Just as those words fell off her lips, they stopped at the back of the ambulance. (Y/n) didn’t even think for a slight second, she just threw her leg onto the gurney as she sat on top of him. She intertwined her left and right hand over one another, and started chest compressions.

She knew she shouldn’t be treating Evan. She was too close to the firefighter, but so were the rest of the team…And sure they could argue with her, but they already knew she was going to tell them the exact same thing. You’re family too.

The gurney got wheeled into the ambulance as (Y/n) was pressing the palm of her hand against her boyfriend's chest, trying to get his heartbeat back. “Come on, don't leave me like this!” she cried as she pushed with every bit of energy she had left in her arms.

It looked like an addiction, giving him chest compressions. She wanted him to come back so badly, she didn’t see what was happening to herself. She was losing herself.

“You’re not leaving, you hear me?” she sobbed as she felt the tears falling off her cheeks, down onto his revealed chest. ”You’re meeting your baby girl which you’re so convinced we’re having.” she continued. With every push she felt the energy being sucked out of her arms. But she needed to keep on going. She wasn’t stopping until he was back.

“She needs her father!” She cried out.

After dozens, maybe hundreds of chest compressions, the longest five minutes of her life came to an end. The ambulance pulled to a stop, as (Y/n) kept on going. She didn’t even feel them wheeling the gurney out of the ambulance. She was too focussed, too desperate to get him back.

“(Y/n)” Eddie said as he touched her arm, which she yanked away. “Diaz” Bobby said with a warning tone. But it was like no one was getting through. Like she had turned off her hearing. Like she was in her own world.

“Eddie take the otherside” Bobby ordered (Y/n)'s brother. He didn’t have a choice. Bobby’s hands and Eddie’s curled around her upper arm as they pulled (y/n) from the gurney. It was the only way..

“No!” she screamed on the top of her lungs, like she was being murdered. “I need to save him!” She sobbed. She didn’t even have the energy to stand on her own two legs, she had put all her energy into chest compressions. It was like she turned into some kind of monster.

All she wanted was to save him, like he saved her, countless times. And now it was time for her to save him.

(Y/n)’s body bungled in between Bobby and Eddie. When her knees touched the ground of the hospital ER, she fully broke down. She felt like she failed him. Why wouldn’t his heartbeat come back?

-

With her arms curled around her knees, she was sitting in the waiting room, on one of those shitty hospital chairs. She may be sitting there physically, but if you looked at her, it was almost like you were looking at a ghost. She was broken. She had lost her spark. Which is not really that weird after seeing your boyfriend being shot, and you tried for minutes to get him back to the world of the living.

(Y/n) was looking outside, seeing countless ambulances stopping and dropping off patients while the rain ticked against the glass window. Her stomach was hurting, probably because she didn’t eat for hours now. It would go away eventually, she figured. And her lower back was killing her, probably because of the way she was sitting for an hour straight. But it was the only position that was kinda comfortable.

“Here” her captain’s voice filled her ears. Her eyes followed his voice and found Bobby who was holding a cup of water. Since she was pregnant she couldn’t drink more than one cup of coffee, or rather no coffee at all.

She turned her head away from Bobby and continued to look outside of the window. “I’m not thirsty” she said coldly. She could hear Bobby let out a small sigh, as he took place in the chair next to her and placed the cup of water on the small table in front of them.

“You went all out there, didn’t you?” Bobby said as he gave her a few seconds of silence. She slightly shook her head, leaving a silence. “And yet…” she started, biting her upper lip to try and suppress her cry. ”I still have the feeling I failed.” she continued as her eyes began to water again.

“I couldn’t get him back Bobby, I tried. Maybe if I-” (Y/n) couldn’t finish her sentence or Bobby interrupted her. “Don’t do that. Don’t think about the things you could’ve done differently or didn’t do.” he said, as he looked to the side, trying to catch her eye. “What I do know is: that you kept him alive until we wheeled him in here.” he continued as he saw her press the palm of her hand onto her forehead.

“But that’s-” she stumbled, as she realized the words Bobby just said. “Wait. Did you just say.. Is he..” Bobby stayed silent as he slightly nodded his head. “Alive” he finished her sentence for her. “He’s getting prepped for the OR” he continued.

She pressed her eyes closed as she let out a relieved sigh. A tear escaped through the corner of her eye as she just tried to catch her breath. (Y/n) felt a warm touch on her knee. A small huffled breath broke free from her mouth as she tried to keep it together.

Bobby let her cry, for a few minutes, giving her the time she needed to let this news land. Until his voice broke the silence. “Listen.. why don’t you go home, and try to get some sleep. So you’ll be here when he wakes up from surgery” He suggests. She wanted to tell him no. She wanted to tell Bobby that she wasn’t able to sleep anyway. But her body was exhausted, and staying here would only give her more pain. Her body was telling her to take a break, there was this annoying pain creeping in on her lower back and her stomach was starting to scream even more.

“I don’t even have a car Bobby” she tried to use as an excuse. She didn’t care if she was in pain, she needed Evan to be fine. And the only way to know as one of the first persons if he was okay, was by staying here. In the hospital waiting room. “The ambulance is out of service, I can ask Eddie to bring you home.” her captain suggests. He looked her in the eye for a response, which was a small nod. “That would be nice.” she whispered. Bobby’s lips pressed into a thin line as he tried to send her some kind of smile. “Okay, I’ll be back in a minute.” he continued as he received her answer.

Secretly she hoped that the ambulance wouldn’t be here anymore, or that somehow they runned out of gas. But she knew that would be a long shot. (Y/n) let her eyes follow the raindrop on the window, trying to kill time. As she could hear the ribs of Evan snap in the back of her mind, bringing her thoughts back to the part where she was doing CPR.

“I can’t feel a pulse!”

“Come on! Come on! Don’t leave me like this!”

“You’re not leaving!”

“She needs her father!”

Her body flinched at the sudden touch on her shoulder, she yanked her head to her side to see who was touching her shoulder. “Sorry, I didn’t want to startle you” her brother’s voice said. She quickly wiped her tears away with the sleeve of her shirt. “It’s okay” she said, which sounded more like a whisper. “You ready?” he asked her, as he held out a hand in front of her. She looked at his hand as if she didn’t know what to do with it for a second, but nodded. “Yes” her voice spoke softly. She loosened her arms around her knees, which were still against her chest.

She accepted Eddie’s hand, and stood up from her chair. Her brother grabbed her turnout coat from the chair she was sitting on, and led her towards the exit of the ER.

She hated it. It felt like a walk of shame, even though she knew it wasn’t. Every single person in the room was watching her. It made her feel so little.

(Y/n) stopped in her tracks towards the exit, as she spotted Bobby with his cup of coffee in his hand. “Please, promise me you will call me. I don’t care if it’s in the middle of the night or while I'm on the damn toilet. You call me, okay?” she told her captain. He placed his hand on her upper arm and gave it a slight squeeze. “I promise.” he said, “Take care of yourself okay?” he continued. She tried to send him a smile, but it’s hard to smile if you can’t find anything positive in the moment. She turned away from her captain and followed her brother outside to the ambulance.

______

The car ride was silent.

She didn’t feel like talking. She was just staring deadly out of the passenger's side window most of the ride. (Y/n) could feel Eddie’s gaze, burning into the side of her head. Constantly checking in on her.

“He’s going to be fine (y/n). I mean it’s Buck.. He pulls these kinds of stunts all the time.” Eddie’s soothing voice filled her ears. She turned her head towards her brother while she leaned her head back against the headrest of the seat. “I know.. But this time it just feels.. different” she stumbles.

“You’re scared to lose him, I get it.” Eddie said.

“You know, I always make up those kinds of scenarios.” She started as her fingers were beginning to pick the dead skin off her fingers.

“What could happen on a call... I always imagined he could die because he’s surrounded by a fire and can’t get out, or he runs out of air in his oxygen tank or hell he falls through a roof while venting a building. Thousands of scenarios in my head, but none of them involved him getting shot on scene.” her voice continued as she looked down at her fingers.

Eddie doesn’t have the words to answer that. So he decides that it’s best for him to stay silent, and give her the time to express herself as he drives to her apartment.

“So yes, I am scared of losing him. I’ve always been scared to lose him. But this time it feels different because I’m pregnant. And he would not only be leaving me. But also…” she reaches out to her lower part of her belly. “this tiny human” she sighs as she lightly touches her stomach.

A silence took over the room. Eddie was already relieved that his sister was actually talking. Something she didn’t do for hours in that waiting room. He noticed her looking outside most of the time. But he figured it would be best for her there and then to have some alone time.

Her hands wandered back to her lap. “God, he wants to be a dad so badly..” she sniffed as a small smile appeared on her face. “This morning before this.. everything. He told me he knew for sure that we were having a girl.” She continued. She could see his perfect smile and the enthusiasm taking over.

She stopped talking as she noticed how she was starting to rattle. She looked in front of her, as she evaluated what happened in this moment. “I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I’m telling you all of this..” she sighs as she shakes her head.

“No, don't be (y/n). Look, a lot has happened today and you just needed to vent. And that’s okay.” Eddie says as he turns the steering wheel, as he drives into her street. “You’re my sister, and I want you to feel safe, to feel like you can tell me everything.” He continued as he quickly looked at her and his head went back to the road.

A moment of silence fell, but Eddie decided to break the short silence, to try and make the conversation a little lighter. “To be honest, Buck already has a lot of practice with parenting since he adores Chris. So you don’t have anything to worry about.” He says as he glanced a smile at her.

A small smile and grin fell off her lips, as the ambulance pulled to a stop. “Your destination ma’am” he smiled as he put the handbrake on.

“Thanks Eds” she stumbled as she looked out of her window to the door of the apartment building. Her hand was placed on the door handle, ready to pull it.

But then she let go of the handle and quickly turned her body around.

Her arms locked themselves around Eddie's neck, pulling her brother close to her body. He was surprised by the sudden hug by his sister but he didn’t pull back.

She squeezed her eyes closed as she felt Eddie’s arms lock around her back and his hand calmly stroke over the back of her head. This is what she needed after this entire day. A hug.

After she stepped into the dark, empty apartment she let out a sigh.

Everything in here was just another reminder of Evan. She could go anywhere and somehow everything leads back to him.

She shook off her thoughts that wandered back to her significant other, and she flicked on the light switch next to the front door.

Just before she got out of the car, Eddie reminded her to drink and eat something. She told him she was going to be okay, but her thoughts were anywhere but food.

Her boyfriend was in the hospital fighting for his life, and she was back in their apartment trying to get some sleep she knew she wouldn’t and couldn’t get.

(Y/n) walked towards the fridge, but suddenly stopped as the annoying pain began to feel like a sudden stab in the stomach. “What the hell?” She mumbled, as she pressed the palm of her hand onto the core where the pain came from. With her body slightly hanging forward, she remained in the position for a few seconds. Waiting for the pain to stop.

She let out a shallow breath, slowly, emptying her lungs completely. Just as she wanted to continue her steps, she abruptly stopped again as she tried to hum away the pain she felt.

What was happening to her?

(Y/n) groaned at the pain she felt over and over again. It felt like the kind of pain she felt during her period, only ten times worse. As if some kind of war between her intestines was taking place in her abdomen.

With every few minutes, the pain was becoming worse and worse. She decided maybe it was for the best if she lied down on bed. Sometimes it would ease the pain if she was on her period, and since this pain felt the closest to that, she figured maybe that would help.

Every body movement she made, she felt like she was going to break. Not emotionally, but her body. It felt so tense and heavy, and she didn’t want to make it worse. So it took her longer than normally to make it up to the loft where the bed was placed.

She threw her phone on the bed as she laid down onto her side, curling her knees and legs as close to her stomach to try and get rid of the stabbing pain inside. Her arms were locked around her knees and legs, and with every shot of pain she pulled her arms tighter and tighter to try and relieve the pain.

She closed her eyes, trying to keep herself calm as the pain went on and on.

(Y/n)’s eyes shot open as an unbearable shocking pain went through her body. She was in pain, she was scared, she didn’t know what was happening to her, she was scared of the unknown. Tears were creating themselves in her eyes as the stabbing pain was becoming only worse and worse.

She huffed away a lot of the pains, trying to stay calm. But she couldn’t stay calm. She was all alone, while she waited for the torture to come to an end. Which felt like it never would.

Her eyes fell onto the phone on the other side of the bed. She really didn’t want to call her colleagues. They had enough on their mind. Even though they told her to call if something was wrong or she needed someone to talk to.

A sob left her mouth as her hand reached out for her phone, as soon as she got a hold of her phone, her finger hovered over the contacts. Who was she calling? She needed medical advice.

Eddie. Her brother. He was a medic too. He didn’t know as much as Hen or Chimney, but It’ll do.

Her hand tapped onto the contact of her brother, as she laid the phone next to her head. But just as the phone was ringing Eddie, another shock hit her body. She tightened the muscles in her abdomen to get rid of the pain as she turned her head towards her shoulder, trying to suppress the pain.

“(Y/n)? What’s wrong?” Eddie’s calm voice sounded through the speaker of the phone as he picked up the phone. She couldn’t talk, the pain was too much to handle.

Another shallow breath left her lips as she tried to breath away the pain, which resolved in a soft cry out of the pain. “Eddie” she sobbed softly through the phone, hoping he could hear her voice. “Something is wrong” she continued as another cry escaped her lips.

“I’m coming your way okay? Just, hang on.” Eddie says, you could just hear the fear in his voice. “Hurry” she cried out. And with that, the call gets cut off.

Eddie always had a spare key of (Y/n) and Buck’s apartment on him in case of an emergency. He never had to use it, until today.

“(Y/n)?” Eddie’s concerned voice filled the apartment. (Y/n) could hear his quick footsteps tapping over the floor downstairs. She wanted to call out, but didn’t have the energy for it. The only thing she could do is breathe the pain away, and find the most comfortable position (if that was possible).

Multiple times her name fell off Eddie’s lips. The footsteps went up the stairs, as his eyes locked on his sister. Lying in bed, as little as possible. “(Y/n)! Que pasó?” he asks, as he got on his knees next to the other side of the bed, trying to make eye contact with his sister.

The way she squeezed her eyes and the tears streaming down her face told him enough.

“Can you describe the pain you’re experiencing? ” he asks, as he places his hand onto her arm, trying to hush and give her some kind of comfort.

“It’s like someone is stabbing my intestines with a knife and just keeps twisting and pushing it” she groaned at the pain. It took her a while to get through that sentence. “Okay, and is this pain constantly?” He asks her calmly as he takes some time to think.

She shook her head before he could finish his sentence. “Waves” she stumbled as another shock of pain hit her stomach.

“I… I just… I-” she stumbled. “Feel like.. I’m going to die” she tried to finish her sentence while she pushed her arms tighter against her stomach, trying to get rid of the pain.

Eddie’s eyes grew slightly wider as he puzzled the pieces together and realized which way this was going. “(Y/n).. how long have you been experiencing these pains?” He calmly asks, trying to keep himself together. “Since this after-” she stopped mid sentence as she squeezed her eyes closed. “noon” she let out a breath.

“At dios mío… (Y/n).. why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” Eddie sighed. “I didn’t think anything of it” she said as she pressed her arms tighter around her stomach again. Another heavy breath left her lips, as she tried catching her breath. “I figured it was just because of the situation.” she continued.

Eddie collected all his courage. ”(Y/n).. I think you know what’s happening to you.” He says as he just looked at her. Their eyes connected, as she waited for his answer with a spark of hope in her eyes. “You’re having a miscarriage, (Y/n)”

The words she didn’t want to hear, were actually spoken.

She thought about it, but she didn’t want to believe it. Secretly, deep down, she hoped Eddie would tell her there was something else wrong, that her appendix was about to burst or that somehow she had extremely bad food poisoning.

“You see, the pain you’re describing and feeling are contractions.” He explained.

Her eyes grew wide as the diagnosis fell off his lips. Her eyes wandered from her brother, to the empty space next to him. Everything around her was sounding dull as if every sound was filtered out. “No..” she mumbled, as a tear escaped from the corner of her eye. “I’m so sorry (Y/n)” Eddie’s voice echoed in the back of her mind, as he placed his hand onto her upper arm.

Eddie reached out and touched her upper arm with his hand, her gaze slowly wandered back to his. He couldn’t handle seeing her like this. “C’me here” he murmured, trying to keep himself strong. He got on the bed and pulled her in an embrace, locking his arms around her.

Quiet sobs were being released from (Y/n)’s mouth against his shoulder. There she was, rolled together as a ball, being comforted by her brother because she’s about to lose her baby.

This was Evan’s reason to make it back home. Their little family. Which he was so excited about. And she’s about to lose it. Their child. Their son. Their daughter.

______

(Y/n) peeked around the doorframe of the hospital room she was in. She had given birth to the miscarriage, but just to be sure there was nothing else going on Eddie had brought her to the ER.

Since she was a lower priority, she had been sitting there for minutes which felt like a lifetime. It felt like there wasn't an end to this day. Her eyes were heavy, she wanted to sleep so badly, but after everything that happened in these past hours she just couldn’t.

She was a mess, and looked like a walking corpse, as if she came right out of a scene of the walking dead. But with a hospital gown on.

(Y/n) figured it would take a few more minutes or hours for the obstetrician to come back. So since she was in the hospital, she could maybe make the best of it and make a visit to her boyfriend.

Her eyes scanned the hallway if the obstetrician came back or not.

Clear.

She stepped out of the room and grabbed with her right hand tightly the rail on the side of the wall. Her legs were feeling like they could cave in literally any moment, but she needed to find Buck. She didn’t care if she even had to crawl her way back to him. She was going to find him.

After taking multiple random choices of routes, and following signs, she found Eddie in front of a window. Looking like some kind of lost boy, staring into the window.

(Y/n)’s feet trembled as she took place next to Eddie, following his gaze. But as soon as Eddie sensed someone standing next to him, he looked to his side. “What are you doing here? I thought you had an appointment with your obstetrician?” He said confused.

“She had a higher priority call. It could take her minutes, maybe hours to come back.” she said as she just looked at Buck through the window.

He was just lying there, completely still, connected to a thousand different wires and machines.

Eddie’s eyes wandered back to Buck’s body on the hospital bed. The two siblings just stood there, staring in silence for a moment.

“Has he woken up yet?” She broke the silence. Eddie sighed “Uh.. no not yet. They’re waiting for him to wake up from the anesthesia, which could be any moment now." He answered her question.

Another silence hit the conversation.

“I’m sorry” Eddie says. (Y/n) send him a confused look, “For what?” She reacted, she could sense Eddie was having a hard time with his next sentence. “I should’ve gone up that ladder” he said.

She was lost, what is Eddie talking about? “What?” The four letter word fell off her lips before her head caught up with her mouth. “I was ready to go up that ladder. But Buck.. he insisted.” He stumbled, as he pressed his lips into a thin line, trying to suppress the tears that were fighting their way out of his eyes.

“Eddie..” she sighed. “No. It should’ve been me. That way, this all wouldn’t have happened to you.” he said as he pressed the palms of both his hands down onto the railing (y/n)’s hands were resting on.

“No Eddie.” She started as he placed her left hand onto his right shoulder. ”What I did and felt for Buck when he got shot, it wouldn’t be any different if it was you on that ladder. I would’ve done exactly the same.” she continued. “And if it makes you feel better, I started spotting last week. So all of this would’ve happened anyway. It wouldn’t make a difference if it was you or Buck. So stop blaming yourself.” she ended and squeezed his shoulder.

Eddie quickly wiped away his tears as his eyes wandered back to his sisters. She gave him a small but reassuring smile, telling him it was okay. It felt so easy, talking to her brother about her loss. But she feared that if she walked into that room and talked to Evan, she would shatter into a thousand pieces.

“You gonna be okay?” She asked him quietly. Eddie looked through the window again, and back to (Y/n). He gave her a small nod. (Y/n) let her hand slide off his shoulder as she made her way towards the entrance of the room.

She felt a lump in their throat as she stood in the doorway of the room Buck was in. This was the first time she saw him again, after she got pulled off the gurney she was performing CPR on him. She could just hear her own scream echoing in the back of her mind.

Carefully she let her legs walk her towards the bed as she swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump in her throat.

She took place in the chair which was standing next to the hospital bed. With her bum she sat on the edge of the chair, so she could reach out to his hand.

With her trembling hand she placed her hand on his, carefully touching his IV. She sighed at the sight in front of her. She let her eyes scan his entire body. “Buck?” She whispered quietly, “I need you.” she said, as her voice broke with the last word.

The tear ducts were open once again. Not even a word could get out of her mouth as she sobbed. She placed her left elbow onto the mattress, as she held her hand in front of her eyes. She wanted to hide, to disappear.

She shed so many tears that her head was starting to create a headache behind her eyes. “Just wake up for me..” she mumbled through her sobs.

A soft groan sounded through the room. (Y/n)’s gaze went back to Evan’s face. His eyes were having trouble adjusting to the light, but rolled his head to his left, to get a better look.

“Hi” he whispered as he opened his eyes wider and wider. A smile appeared on her face, through the tears. “Hi” she gasped.

“Do you remember what happened?” She asks him. As she placed both her hands on his. He swallowed loudly, “Got shot.. ” he stumbled as he weakly brought his free hand to his shoulder and touched the packed wound. He hissed at the pain that went through his body as wanted to place his hand on the wound. “Don’t touch it” she warned him as she grabbed his other hand too and placed it where it was.

Another groan fell off his lips. “Are you hurt?” He asks as he weakly points at the hospital gown she was wearing. She followed his finger. “No.. I’m fine” she sighed. “Doesn’t… explain.. hospital gown” he stumbled.

It was like suddenly she didn’t know how to speak anymore. “I’ve got a.. appointment. With the obstetrician.” she said with pain and effort. “I don’t remember.. we had that planned” he whispered. “No, we didn't have it planned.” she sighed as she looked down to the hospital floor.

“So why.. are you seeing the obstetrician?”

“Because I..-” she barely couldn’t get the words out of her mouth. It made her sick. It made her want to scream. To cry.

She was struggling and Evan could see it. He may have just woken up, and gotten shot, but he didn’t forget how to read his girlfriend.

There was no easy way of saying it. She bit her lower lip, as she gathered all her courage. Her hands were starting to sweat and tremble. A sigh left her mouth.

“I’ve… lost the baby Buck.” and just like that, tears were streaming down her face. “I’m sorry” she cries.

“Oh baby…” he sighed. He wanted to reel her in his arms, to kiss her. But he couldn’t. He didn’t have the energy for it, not yet.

A feeling of guilt creeped in Evan. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you” he whispered, as he motioned at her to come closer. She stood up from the chair she was still seated in.

Evan moved to the side, as he made room on the hospital bed. He patted on the side of the bed, as (Y/n) got on the bed, lying on her side, curled up as a ball again. She placed her head on his chest, as Evan pulled a strand of hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear.

He pressed his lips on the top of her head. And murmured, “It’s going to be okay.”

[nana-au]

𝐈 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄...

 𝜗𝜚 Satoru Gojo Prince AU ♡ part three

 𝜗𝜚 Summary: satoru doesn't understand why you aren't the one to wake him every morning. he becomes moody in your absence, haunted by a fear that isn't fully realized. satoru spends his days confused as he wanders the grounds in search of you. he has no idea what to expect when he finally gets you alone. story summary based off of this drabble

𝜗𝜚 Warnings: forbidden love, unspoken feelings, heavy angst, intense emotions, suggestive topics (mention of flashing & teen masturbation), meal skipping, satoru has a panic attack

 𝜗𝜚 wc: 3,486

𝜗𝜚 an: part three!! come get yall's food lol

┊p1┊p2┊p3┊𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠... p4┊

“Who do you want to marry when you grow up, Satoru?” you’re smiling at him when you ask, looking up from the dandelion that rested in your small grip; wispy white seeds blowing away with the wind. Satoru watches the fuzz carry on into the open field from where the two of you were sitting, his own wispy white strands tickling his neck from the random gust of wind causing a shudder to ripple through his small form. 

“Satoru, are you listening to me?” you giggle, covering your mouth as a blush creeps up his chubby face. 

“Of course I was,” he insists, cheeks getting brighter as you continue to giggle at him; you were used to Satoru getting distracted by the littlest of things. You pick up another dandelion, scooching closer to his face before giving it a hearty blow and Satoru frantically waves his hands in front of his face - trying desperately to vanish the fluff in front of him. “I was listening,” he states, exasperated. “You just didn’t give me time to think,” he pouts and your giggle fit kicks in again. “Stop it!” he begs, crossing his arms in a huff. 

“I’m sorry, Satoru,” you tell him, reeling in your humor and straightening out your face. “You don’t have a favorite Princess already in mind?” you ask, daydreaming about his romanticized future. You were always there while his parents talked about all the possibilities Satoru had to look forward to. Even in their young age many of the Princesses were ‘radiant beauties’ who would make ‘perfect wives for a lucky Prince’. You all but sighed imagining the lavish wedding full of blooming flowers and a flawlessly flowy veil. 

“No,” he scoffs at that idea, “Only girls care about that mushy stuff,” his fists dig into the dirt to distract himself from the blush that he couldn’t seem to shake off his cheeks. 

“Not even a little bit?” you ask him, hiding your knowing smile by biting your nails. 

“Only sometimes,” he concedes and you perk up a little; still cautious about riling him up again.

“What do you think about?” you subconsciously lean in closer, worried his words would get carried away with the wind. 

“That it won’t be fun….” he pauses, pulling strands of grass out from the ground while he readies himself, “Without you there.”

“Of course I’ll be there silly,” you’re quick to remind him. You wouldn’t miss his wedding for anything. Hell, practically the whole world would be watching and you’d be no different; cheering for the Prince as he found his Princess; securing their place as soon to be King and Queen of the kingdom. 

“Not in the way that I’d want,” he sighs, opening his fist and letting the pile of grass fall back down onto the ground. Your eyebrows furrow, unsure what to make of his statement. You notice how crestfallen he looks though, and you move onto the next thing to busy his thoughts with. It’s easy, it always has been easy to distract the Prince; but every so often you see his lips purse and eyebrows knit as if he’s remembering an unpleasant thought. 

𝜗𝜚

Satoru wakes up early the day after the ball; alerted to the strange man in his room opening his curtains at the first sign of dawn. “Who are you?” he asks, voice full of unease while he watches said man cross his room back to the door he arrived through. 

“Peter, your highness,” the man bows to him, “Breakfast is awaiting you in your private dining room,” he scurries off, leaving Satoru even more confused. Anxiety quickly starts to eat at the features on his face as he sits up, deep in thought. Where could you possibly be? He couldn’t remember you requesting time off…. perhaps you had fallen ill? His thoughts did a number on his heart, feeling his pulse quicken and his chest vibrate from the heavy thumps the organ was producing. He shakes his head, slowing his thoughts and thus his heart, focusing on getting dressed to make it to breakfast. He all but runs throughout the palace, bare feet pattering against the marble floors while he makes his way down the winding halls until he arrives at his destination; hastily pushing open the doors of his dining room. He sees Peter again, standing against the wall like all servants were trained to do before pulling out a chair for the Prince. Satoru’s vision blurs. You had never not let him know your schedule. If you weren’t going to be there for his day you always told him. Always. Usually weeks in advance too. His palms perspired and he rubbed them on the fabrics of his pants. “Please, eat well, Princ-” Peter talks and Satoru immediately cuts him off.

“Where is she? Is she okay?” Satoru tries to steady his tone but his voice shakes and Peter clears his throat before excusing himself, leaving his questions unanswered. He should know better than to get all worked up over something he has no information on yet, but he ignores his meal anyways and heads back to his room, his appetite suffering from the anxiety gnawing on his insides. 

𝜗𝜚

Peter had a hard time getting Satoru ready for the day, the stubborn Prince making it purposefully more difficult the longer he went without the information he seeked. The poor servant does his best - sticking out Satoru’s backhanded comments and incessant teeth sucking as he grew more and more frustrated with the man. He still goes to his classes for the day, not without waving his hand at Peter as he follows him around like a fruit fly to an orange; desperately trying to get the man off his back, 

“Fetch me my tea and biscuits early,” he snaps, frustrated even before putting brush to canvas as his art teacher squirms - not used to such a volatile attitude from the Prince aimed towards a servant. Peter jumps from his tone, rushing to please the fuming royal. When Peter comes back with the wrong biscuits Satoru is quick to insult him, calling him a ‘bumbling idiot who needs to put his head on straight so he can go and find you to smooth over his mistakes’. Peter perspires heavily, bowing repeatedly and apologizing before seeing himself off, desperately trying to think of which biscuits the Prince was referring to as the correct ones.  

During his dance lessons Satoru starts to grow dizzy - seeing Peter’s face every time he spun around in his direction did little to settle his stomach. He held no ill will towards the man - but the longer he went without seeing you the harder it was to quell his anger. The fact Peter seemed clueless to your whereabouts was doing him no help either. “I need a glass of water,” Satoru stops his teacher, removing his hand from her waist and making his way to the door. Peter calls after him when his body makes it past the threshold but Satoru doesn’t look back and Peter gives up the chase before it even starts. Exhausted from a day of following the grumpy Prince around. 

𝜗𝜚

Satoru doesn’t know what to expect when he enters the kitchens, but your sunken shoulders and red eyes was definitely not one of them. “Thank God,” he says, alerting the busy kitchen staff to his arrival. He strides across the room, making his way towards you with a look of relief on his face; knowing that you were still in the palace settled his nerves just a little. Your face looked anything but relieved - your figure tenses upon seeing the Prince and your throat tightens watching him make his way towards you. You’re frozen, unable to move when you feel a harsh pinch at your side. You turn to see your mother, eyes communicating clearly with yours; you needed to make yourself scarce. Your heart skips a beat and you hardly notice you’re holding your breath. Once the Prince was almost directly in front of you, you jumped to action, setting down your paring knife and hastily leaving through the back door of the kitchen.

Satoru doesn’t have any time to call out your name, his mouth opens in an attempt but the swinging door of the kitchen is already stilled by the time he processed what happened. His head tilts, not believing it. Your mother interrupts his thoughts with a polite bow, “Prince Gojo, how may we be of help?” Her smile is gentle but her eyes are wild while they search the Prince’s features - trying to read what his next actions might be. He studies her own features just as much as she does his - taking in her full cheeks and narrow eyes. You resemble your father more, but you have your mother’s nose and his heart constricts again at the realization you had walked away from him.

“Just a glass of water, ma’am, thank you,” he all but whispers.  

𝜗𝜚

“Stop talking about my wedding!” child Satoru stomps his foot at you. The two of you were in the middle of an intense game of checkers when you were feeling a bit giddy about the conversation that occurred during breakfast. 

The Queen had droned on and on about the beautiful Princess of a neighboring nation to the two of you. You ignored the food under your nose as the Queen described the unknown girl; curly blonde hair with beautiful bright blue eyes, with a passion for the piano. You sighed in awe, already fantasizing about the lucky Princess - pondering if she liked chasing frogs like Satoru and you did, or if she preferred the comfort of the indoors. Your elbows hit the table while you imagined the other little girl in your head and the Queen was quick to snap at you. “Manner’s child!” your girlish smile fell as your hands hit your lap, apologizing for disrespecting her.

As you were about to king yourself, you stopped, mentioning the Princess before the moment you stacked your piece onto the other, irritating the ever competitive Satoru. “Just king yourself already!” he groaned, wanting nothing to do with the conversation you were striking up. Surely you had to be doing it just to rub in your impending victory. 

“She would look so good in your family’s color,” you sighed, continuing the game while you fantasized yet again about the Prince’s perfect future. A girl with blue eyes and fair skin like Satoru surely would look amazing in the Gojo’s signature blue. 

“I don’t care!” he shouts, visibly irritated by the conversation’s topic. You shake your head, assuming he was just being a boy about it; refusing to entertain the idea of a wife and a whirlwind romance. You didn’t know and you wouldn’t ever know but Satoru didn’t like the idea of a picture perfect wedding and a throne to call his own because he just wanted to play with you forever. It was childish, sure, but he was a child when he first realized where his thoughts were on the matter. He hated the idea that you would eventually become like a picture on the wall, always there in the background but never to be seen or heard from. It wouldn’t be until he was a little older that he realized being married doesn’t sound all that bad if you really enjoy their company. If he could be himself and they could make him laugh. ‘That wouldn’t be too bad’, he told himself.

As you both grew together, his body went through awkward phases - causing strange urges he couldn’t seem to satiate for the longest time - always missing something he couldn’t quite place until the day he accidentally saw the supple skin hidden under your skirt. Things really started to heat up from there and he spent far too many days ‘sick’ in his bed with his fists under the covers. Of course you would be there afterwards with a cool towel to wipe the sticky sweat from his face after checking up on him. It was then he realized there must be more to a wife than simple friendship.

𝜗𝜚

Satoru’s days pass without much purpose, He essentially ignores Peter upon realizing the man was utterly useless, choosing to dictate his own day much to everyone’s dismay. He skips scheduled lessons, lets his food go cold during meal times, walks aimlessly around the gardens, and most of all checks in the kitchen for your face. He doesn’t see you any of the countless times he checks and he scoffs louder every time he peeks his head in just to see your figure missing among the sea of silver pots and pans.

Satoru ‘excuses’ himself from his untouched dinner on the last day of the week, heading to the stables and saddling up his own horse before taking off down the field and into the forest he took you through just two weeks before. Riding his horse had been the only solace for him while his thoughts seemed to eat him from the insides. The uneven earth beneath the two of them managing to ease the rising tide of his emotions for the time being. He spent a while out in the forests bordering the Gojo’s land, finding the winding path capable of maintaining his attention and giving him no time to ponder the reality he was facing back at the palace. He doesn’t want to head back but his bones start to ache and his mouth begins to parch so he makes his way to the stables, hopping off his stallion as he got closer to its open doors.

It’s there that he stops abruptly, seeing you for the second time that week. Satoru couldn’t recall a time he went that long without seeing your face. You hadn’t noticed him yet - too busy dragging a bale of hay twice your size into one of the many stalls the stable held. You were out of breath, covered in dust and sweat, your hair falling out of its ribbon that you used to keep it back and your face red from the constant strain of overworking your muscles. He decided to take a different approach from when he saw you in the kitchens, abandoning his horse to sneak up behind you, grabbing a strand of your ribbon and pulling it away, causing your hair to cascade down. You shoot up, turning around and seeing the Prince directly in front of you. The two of you were so close that your noses almost touched and you stood, frozen in fear yet again. Your heart beat rapidly; joining the chaotic rhythm Satoru sported the moment he finally saw you after all these days apart. “Let me help you,” he murmured, messily collecting your hair into a bundle at the back of your head, concentrating hard as he tied the ribbon tight into place. “There,” he purred, petting your head as he tried to smooth out any bumps and you felt your resolve just about shatter from the tender touches of his slender fingers against your skull. 

“Prince Gojo,” you almost dry heave when you finally speak, “That was inappropriate,” you speak so softly, not believing in the words that come out of your mouth. His eye twitches at your words, taken aback from the title you used with him. The two of you were alone and yet you saw it fit to call him that? The title he begged to be removed from your vocabulary even against his parent’s demands. The one you never used in an empty room such as this. 

“Why haven’t you been waking me each morning?” he asks, dumbfounded even by his own words. He wanted to ask what was with the disgusting title. He wanted to ask why you practically ran when he saw you in the kitchens. He wanted to ask why his best friend all but vanished from his life only to be inhabiting the halls he walked for hours, searching for you. You don’t meet his frantic eyes when you mumble something about taking on new responsibilities and he doesn’t mean to but he shouts, “Why would you do that?!” He isn’t sure he can swallow down the crashing waves of acid threatening to spill from his pretty pink lips due to the way you were staring down at your shoes instead of into his pleading eyes. Betrayal is hot on his mind and accusations sit heavy on his tongue when you don’t respond but he collects what little control he has left; unwilling to accept you could be so indifferent to him. “What could possibly cause you to act like this?!” his voice is shaky and his eyes turn glossy waiting for your response. 

You want nothing more than to cling to his body, to feel the protection of a man with choices in his life but you can’t cling to him and none of his choices are his to make. His whole life had been paved for him the moment his head crowned and the Gojo’s welcomed their baby boy into the world. You reflect on the Queen’s warnings and focus on the truth of the matter. Satoru had no say in his life; bound by rules and customs created long before his tentative eyes could take in the size of his fortress. One day he would be required to marry - against his wishes if it came down to it because as the only heir he had no choice. You weren’t just saving your parents from a life on the streets or yourself from being forever shunned as the girl who dared tried to dirty the Prince - you were saving Satoru from the heartache of watching that happen to you. The words you were about to say needed to be said. No matter how loud your pulse was in your ears threatening to make you go deaf. “I grew uncomfortable with our closeness,” his eyes almost bulge out of their sockets, immediately scoffing but you continue on, “It’s inappropriate and wrong and it is dirtying your image.”

He is completely aware of how loud he becomes this time, “I don’t care about my image!” His legs feel like jello from how terrified your words make him. You almost lose all your logic upon seeing his tall body collapse in on itself, his shoulders slumping and knees buckling as his world turns upside down. He looks like a frightened child and you want nothing more than to embrace him and tell him you didn’t mean any of it. But you have to. For you. For your family. For Satoru. You have to mean your next words. 

“I care, Satoru. I care that people think you might like me-”

“And what if I do?” His face is unusually red when he says this. You realized later after he walked away that this was his way of finally speaking the unspeakable out loud. The thing the both of you knew yet neither of you mentioned. The tension that turned the air thick and made it hard to breathe without him. He had revealed his heart that beat solely for you. 

“I don’t feel the same,” his world collapses at your words but he doesn’t show it. His face finally steels and his jaw sets. He says nothing. He gives you nothing. Choosing to walk away and get back on his horse rather than get on his knees and beg you to admit that you don’t mean the words you say. 

𝜗𝜚

His ride through the forest follows the same path; his horse jumping over the same thick roots in the ground and weaving through the tall trees that hid the estate from wandering eyes. Instead of the usual peaceful breeze of every ride he’s had before, the wind seems to knock the air from his lungs instead of filling them; causing him to cough and splutter as he desperately tries to fill his failing organs. His body racks with sobs and his tears hit the white mane of his favored horse. He doesn’t bother to wipe the snot from his nose when he can hardly keep himself steady; refusing to stop in fear he may lay down onto the earth and never arise again. 

Against his better judgment, Satoru’s body is found lying on the dank forest floor at around half past midnight. The servants sent out to find the Prince are in awe at the pitiful scene in front of them: laid flat on his back, staring up at the starry sky between tree branches, face swollen from hours of crying, and body shivering from the unforgiving temperatures of the night. They scoop him up without a fight and carry him back. He doesn’t bother to explain himself to the servants.

No one comes to visit him once he’s finally tucked into bed. 

┊p1┊p2┊p3┊𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠... p4┊

taglist: @bubera974 𐙚 @dahliawarner 𐙚 @phoenixisdabest 𐙚 @designerpvssy 𐙚 @leaderwon 𐙚 @elilovesall 𐙚 @alicebleu 𐙚 @sleepykittycx 𐙚 @abcdbleh 𐙚 @waka-babe 𐙚 @fanficsforkicks 𐙚 @boothillglazer 𐙚

(ty for all the support! comment to be added/removed)

[dorabellingham]

Dinner plans

warning: none

characters: jude x mom!reader

summary: when your baby is too fussy to let you go to dinner

may contain spelling and translation errors!

Madrid, Spain — October 10, 2024.

The sun was already setting on the Madrid skyline, coloring the sky with shades of orange and pink. You were in front of the bedroom mirror, adjusting the long navy blue silk dress you had chosen for the special night. The thin straps highlighted your delicate shoulders, and the fabric flowed softly to the floor, making you feel elegant, even though a part of you was worried at home.

—You look beautiful, sweetheart.

Jude said as he entered the room, stopping for a moment to appreciate you. He was neatly dressed, wearing an impeccable white suit that highlighted his athletic build. His hair was casually styled, and the woody scent filled the air around you.

You smiled slightly, but there was a glint of concern in your eyes.

—Thank you, Jude... but I don’t know if we should really go. Benji is so moody today.

Your husband came closer, placing his hands on your shoulders, the warm and familiar touch trying to convey comfort.

—Hey, everything will be fine. Martina is already on the way, and he'll be fine with her. We need this time just for the two of us, don't you think?

You nodded, but your gaze went straight to the next room, where your baby was mumbling softly in his crib, his little arms stretched up high, as if searching for his parents. He was going through a difficult phase, too clingy to let go of you, and every time he left he seemed more defiant.

—I know, I know... it's just that he's been more attached lately, I don't know what's going on. —You sighed, releasing the air that seemed trapped in your chest. —Maybe it's just a phase.

Jude smiled understandingly and continued to run his hands over your shoulders, giving you a good feeling.

—It certainly is. And he'll get used to it soon. Besides, we're not far away, we'll just have dinner and be back before he notices.

You turned to him, touching the knot of his tie gently, as if that small action could distract from your worries.

—He knows when we’re not here. You’ve seen how he’s gotten more agitated since we started getting ready, Babe.

At that moment, Benjamin’s soft crying increased in intensity, turning into a continuous whine, as if he knew his parents were about to leave. You moved away from Jude, hurrying towards the baby’s room.

When you arrived, you found him lying in the crib, his little face red and his little hands clutching the blanket.

—Oh, my little boy.

You whispered, taking your little baby in your arms. Immediately, he calmed down a little, but sobs still escaped between heavy sighs.

Bellingham appeared right behind, watching both.

—He just wants to be held, babe. You’re his comfort.

Jude's voice was soft, but with a touch of contained frustration, because he knew how much these moments affected his wife. You rocked Benji gently, feeling his small body fit against his.

—I know, but it feels wrong to leave him like this.

—Do you think if we don't go he'll sleep better?

Jude asked, trying to find a solution. He understood your concern, but he also wanted to provide a special moment. You looked at him with an uncertain expression and Benji groaned, grabbing yiur dress as if holding on with all his strength. Jude sighed, feeling his son's resistance, but also understanding that they needed this time together.

—Maybe we can postpone the reservation for a little longer, until he calms down?

—Do you think they'll let us? It's a super busy restaurant, Jude...

You asked, already mentally preparing yourself to give up on the idea of ​​dinner.

—I'll call them, explain the situation. It'll work out.

The taller one answered, already taking his cell phone out of his pocket and moving away a little to make the call.

While he was solving the problem, you continued to calm Benjamin, who was now calmer in your arms, his little brown eyes slowly closing. You rocked him from side to side, the gentle rhythm making the baby snuggle even closer against his mother's chest. A small, affectionate smile appeared on your lips as she watched him.

—You know you can let mommy and daddy go out, right? Just for one night?

You whispered, kissing your son's forehead.

Jude came back a few minutes later with an expression of relief.

—I managed to postpone it in an hour. That way we can spend a little more time with him and leave when he's asleep.

You smiled, relieved, and blew a kiss in the air followed by a wink at him.

—You're the best, darling!

He shrugged, sending a kiss and a weak wink back.

—I’m good at negotiations, it’s part of my job.

You laughed softly, still rocking Benji. Jude came closer again, putting his arm around you and looking at his sleeping son.

—Now, let’s enjoy this little time with him, and then we have our night. Fair enough, right?

You nodded, feeling Jude’s warmth and love beside you. The baby finally fell asleep completely, his body relaxed in his mother’s arms. You sat together on the couch in the living room, Jude with an arm around you, both of you watching Ben breathe softly, his face angelic and peaceful.

—Sometimes I wonder if we’ll ever be able to have time for just the two of us again.

You confessed in a whisper.

Jude squeezed your arm lightly.

—We’ll find that balance. Benjamin is our priority, but we also need to take care of ourselves. This night is just a reminder that we are still us, Y/n. And that all of this is only getting more special.

You looked at him, feeling the weight of his words and the truth in them.

—Yeah... you’re right.

You were silent for a few minutes, enjoying the momentary peace before finally getting up to get ready again. When Benji was safe and sound asleep, with the babysitter already at the ready, you left the house, knowing that, despite the challenges, this night was for you —a little piece of time just for them, amidst the rush of being parents.

[grimesproperty]

“ FRIENDS “

part two.

jj maybank x reader

—

Later that night you arrive at the boneyard, the sounds of music and laughter filling the air. You see the rest of the pogues gathered around a bonfire, talking and laughing.

Kiara and Sarah chat amongst themselves, while John B and Pope are throwing beers at empty cans for some Odd reason. JJ stands a bit farther away, his arms crossed, his expression more subdued than usual. He notices you arrive, but looks away quickly, avoiding your gaze.

"Hey sorry you guys, I was with my boyfriend and his friends." You said as you greeted the group with a smile and a beer bottle in your hands.

John B glances at you, his smirk returning. He takes a sip of his beer before replying, "Ah, the elusive boyfriend appears with his Kook entourage."

"You could say that. He was with Topper and the others. I just put on a smile for them," you said to him. John B rolled his eyes, clearly disapproving of the idea of you spending time with your boyfriend and his friends.

"Yeah, I bet it was really fun," he says, sarcasm dripping from his words. "Oh yeah, totally," you reply. Pope, who has been quietly listening until now, chimes in, "You know you don't have to pretend to enjoy it, right?"

"I never claimed to enjoy it, Pope," you said as you looked at the fire, taking a sip of your beer. Pope nodded a sympathetic expression on his face.

"Then why do it? You're beter off hanging with us than with a bunch of kooks, " He says to you.

"Because—" but no words come out of your mouth. You can't just tell them the truth, that your secret feelings for JJ have grown stronger with every passing minute. You're using your terrible boyfriend as a distraction from your true emotions.

"It's nothing, I'm going to get another drink," you said as you stood up, smiled at them, and walked off.

John B and Pope exchange a quick glance as they watch you walk away, both silently wondering what's going on in your mind. Meanwhile, JJ observes you from a distance, his expression still unreadable.

John B turns to look at Jj, annoyance evident in his eyes. "Why are you always so moody when it comes to her and her boyfriend?" he asks JJ.

jj lets out a huff of annoyance, before taking a swig of his beer. "I'm not in the mood to see her playing friends with a bunch of kooks, that's all. And she's been acting different since she started seeing that guy."

John B rolls his eyes, clearly fed up with JJ's attitude. "You're acting like a pouting child. So what if she's dating someone? You're not her keeper."

JJ's irritation flares up at John B's words, but before he can respond, Pope jumps in, trying to mediate. "Come on, guys, this isn't the time for fighting. Let's just enjoy the night."

John B nods, reluctantly agreeing with Pope. "Yeah, you're right..." he looks at JJ and gives him a stern look. "JJ, just chill out, yeah?"

JJ grumbles under his breath but nods grudgingly. "Fine, I'll chill out, happy now?"

Pope gives jj a weary look, hoping he will intend to keep his word. They all know arguing with jj when he's in a mood is like banging your head against a brick wall.

Sarah looks at jj suspiciously, "If there's something you're not telling us...." She leads off. JJ gives Sarah a sidelong glance, his expression guarded. "I don't know what you're talking about, Sarah, there's nothing to tell."

Sarah, not easily persuaded, moves closer to jj, her eyes narrowing. "You know you can talk to us, right? Were your friends."

JJ lets out a sigh, his walls slowly crumbling. "I know that." He glances off to the side, avoiding everyone's eyes on him. "it's just... complicated, alright?"

Eventually, as you return with a drink in hand, the conversation abruptly stops, jj quickly turns his gaze away from yours, avoiding eye contact. John B and Sarah exchange a knowing look, their suspicion growing.

You sat next at the only spot open next to jj. The others exchange discreet glances as you sit down beside jj.

There’s a palpable tension in the air as if every small action is being heavily scrutinized. Jj is unusually quiet, his arms still by his side and gaze fixed on the fire.

The silence continues, the only sound being the crackling of the bonfire and the distant sounds of laughter and music from the other people.

Your attention shifts towards the water where your boyfriend and his friends are, loudly laughing and stumbling around, clearly drunk.

The sight makes you feel a pang of irritation and annoyance. While the others are occupied with their own conversations, jj notices your the direction of your gaze.

JJ leans forward, his arms resting on his knees, but he lets out a scoff under his breath.

Clearly not impressed by the sight of your boyfriend and his friends. "seems like those kooks are getting wasted tonight."

John B taking a sip of his drink chimes in, "Yeah, those guys are something else. Acting like they own the Goddamn island."

As your boyfriend and his friends stumble towards where you are all sitting, it becomes increasingly obvious that they're visibly inebriated.

Some of them have their shirts off, and they're clearly trying to show off for the girls present.

The others watching roll their eyes anticipating what's about to come next. You look up at your boyfriend and speak up, "Hey, too much to drink?"

Your boyfriend, a bit more intoxicated than the others, slurs his words as he grins a you, "Nah, just enough." he looks around at his friends, who are also pretty drunk. "We're just having some fun, baby."

Kelce, belches loudly, eliciting snickers from the others. "Yeah, we know how to enjoy ourselves, unlike some people." he casts a pointed glance at the pogues.

JJ's jaw clenches, his irritation growing. "Yeah, you guys sure know how to make asses of yourselves."

Your boyfriend, still unsteady on his feet, scowls at JJ's comment, taking offense. "Hey, what's your problem man? You got a problem with us having a good time?"

JJ meets your boyfriend's gaze, a challenge in his eyes. "No, I just don't like arrogant assholes who think they own every goddamn thing on this island."

You turn to jj, "Jayj," you said in a warning tone to cut it out. JJ turns his gaze away from your boyfriend and looks at you, his expression immediately softening. "Yeah?"

"Don't start anything, he's drunk." You say to him standing beside him, jj's irritation towards your boyfriend is still clear in his eyes, but he takes a deep breath and nodes. "Fine. I'll keep my mouth shut."

You nod at him as a silent thank you, "He doesn't know what he is saying that's all," you say to him. John B rolls his eyes at your boyfriend's drunken state. "yeah we can tell, someone probably needs to get him before he embarrasses himself even more."

"And before he ends up doing something stupid," Pope adds in. Your boyfriend, still slurred, puffs out his chest at the comments. "Hey, I can handle myself. I don't need anyone to babysit me."

JJ snorts derisively. "Oh yeah, you're doing a great job handling yourself right now," he says to your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend now stumbles forward, "Watch it, man. Don't talk to me like that."

Earning jj to step forward as well, his eyes narrowing. "Or what? You gonna do something about it?" jj says to him. Your boyfriend takes a wobbly step closer, anger etched in his features. "You wanna find out? I'll beat your ass, Maybank."

You tried to intervene, as well as Pope and John B, sensing the tension escalating into something more. "Come on, guys, just chill out for a minute." John B says to the two.

"there's no need for this to turn into a fight!" You say to them, jj while also trying to diffuse the situation, remains tense and prepared to defend himself if necessary.

"yeah, listen to them. You wouldn't fare too well in a fight, you're too drunk to even stand straight." JJ says, earning a shove from your boyfriend.

JJ stumbles back, the unexpected shove catching him off guard. Immediately, John B and Pope jump up, trying to get between them.

"Whoa, hey, now let's all calm down!" Pope says, meanwhile, the other kooks continue to egg your boyfriend on. Your boyfriend with his drunk bravado, sneers at JJ. "what, you're just gonna take that? I thought you were all talk Maybank."

JJ's face harden, a mix of anger and restraint, He clenched his fist wanting more than to knock your boyfriend flat on his ass, but he's holding back for your sake.

"Trust me, I'm more than all talk." He says. John B and pope contunite to try and de-esculate the situation, but the other kooks are clearly enjoying the potential fight, taunting and jeering from the sidelines.

That's when your boyfriend tries to punch him, jj despite being a bit off guard manages to sidestep your boyfriend's sloppy punch, causing him to stumble forward. "Is that the best you've got?" Jj says with a laugh.

"Come on, man, hit him!" Kelce shouts at your boyfriend. Your boyfriend, humiliated straightens up and charges towards jj once more. JJ ends up punching him in the face.

Your boyfriend stumbles back, clutching his jaw where jj's punch landed solidly. The kooks go silent for a moment, surprised by the swiftness of jj's punch.

"Jayj! What the hell!" you shouted at him. As your boyfriend falls back, holding his aching jaw, JJ stands his ground, chest heaving with adrenaline and anger.

"You asked for that," jj says to him. Your boyfriend throws a punch at JJ. He quickly reflexes, sidesteps the incoming punch, and retailites with a jab to your boyfriend's stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

You let out a loud gasp, the other pogues with shock written all over their faces. People stop what they are doing as their attention lands on jj and your boyfriend.

JJ stands firmly, panting slightly from the tussle, his eyes locked on your boyfriend who is kneeling over, gasping for breath. The kooks watch the unexpected spectacle unfold.

The kooks embarrassed and angry that their friend was beaten, turn their attention towards the rest of the pogues. Their previous arrogance is replaced by a dangerous sort of anger.

A few of them start to step forward, the liquid courage fueling their belligerence.

Your boyfriend regains his balance and heads for jj again. But you stop him, stepping in between him and JJ.

Everyones eyes widen in surprise, espicially jj's. Your boyfriend freezes. You stare at him dead in the eyes.

“back up, now." Your assertive tone caused the kooks to pause. Their intended aggression faltered for a moment.

Your boyfriend, though still seething with anger, also looks surprised. He staggers a little, torn between continuing his charge. "You need to leave now." You said to him.

Your boyfriend stands there for a moment, his eyes locking with yours. He looks like he wants to say something but instead turns to follow the other kooks, throwing a last glare at jj before walking away.

The tension slowly subsides as the kooks retreat. their bravado replaced by a sense of defeat. The pogues let out a collective sigh of relief, and John B and Pope give you a look of thanks.

You turned around and shoved jj — pissed off by what just happened — what he caused. "What the fuck was that?!" You yelled at him.

jj stumbles backward, a mix of confusion and hurt flashing across his face.

"What the hell?! What do you mean what was that? He started it!" JJ shouted back at you. "He was drunk!" you fired back,

he looked at you incredulously, his irratiion still bubbling beneath he surface. "So that's an excuse for him to try and deck me? You're defending him?"

"No jay i-" You were about to finish your sentence until jj cuts you off, his voice rising, "I don't get it. He was coming at me. I was just defending myself, and now you're getting mad at me?" he runs a frustrated hand through his hair, struggling to understand your anger.

"I'm sick of your shit jj!" You said to him, his eyes narrow at your words, hurt and anger now mixing together, "What the hell is that supposed to mean? I was trying to defend myself. What did you want me to do, just let him beat me up?"

"No, because I wasn't going to let him touch you!" You shouted at him. JJ scoffs — disbelief evident in his voice. "And what were you gonna do? Get in the middle of it, and get yourself hurt?"

"for you! YES!" You yelled out while you stared at him intensely, the words you said making a flicker of surprise in his eyes. "Why would you do that? you could've gotten hurt, and for what?" He says to you.

"Because I fucking love you jayj!"

part three here

[miniwheat77]

Brat. (dbf!Captain Price x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, oral sex (f receiving), using worms as bait, age gap, (sorry if I missed any)

Your body feels warm, the hot sun beating down on you as you swam with one of your friends in her swimming pool. You had one as well but her parents weren't as strict as yours so you spent most of your time there.

You had just turned 18 but since you still lived with them for the time being you had no other choice but to follow their rules. You still had a curfew, had to tell them when and where you were going and what time you would be home. They still had to approve of it of course. Although they rarely ever told you no anymore since you were 18.

Your dad sat at an old wooden bar in and old dive bar him and his best friend, John Price liked to hang out in. They've been neighbors for years and years and it's essentially how their friendship started. They spent every holiday, game day, barbecue, and family get together with each other since then. They got along well, never fought. John was invited to everything and since he didn't have a family of his own it wasn't too hard for him to show. He wasn't married, had no kids, and lived too far away from his parents and siblings to plan the flights. He also didn't know when he'd be deployed but since he took on a job on the base and was only backup for missions, he was always home. Usually worked a 9-5 on the base. It was out of the ordinary for him and apart of him felt useless but it paid the bills. He was still there if they needed him anyways.

You dad was tipping the whiskey back like it was water which only meant one thing. Something was stressing him out.

John smiles after drinking some of his own bourbon. "Something going on mate?" He asks your dad. "Ah yeah. Y/N has been driving me crazy lately." He groans. "Me and her mom." He laughs. John tilts his head in confusion. "What's been going on?" He asks. "If you don't mind me asking of course."

"To be honest? I don't know. She's just been a real grouch lately. Has an attitude, doesn't listen, complains all the time. We've given her much more freedom since she turned 18 so I'm not sure where it's coming from." He shrugs. John nods his head. He's still listening. "I mean.. we convinced her to go to the doctor to get a few scans and blood work done, thinking maybe it was hormone imbalance or a mood disorder but those all came back fine and seemed to piss her off even more to be honest." He shrugs. "She got something going on in her personal life? Maybe she's fighting with a friend or boyfriend?" John asks. Your dad shakes his head. "She hates guys her age. Hates pretty much everyone she isn't close with anyways. She always said she won't date until she's older after her first boyfriend but I mean. She was like 12 so it was stupid anyways. She's only got a couple close friends and that's where she is right now. I don't know what it is." He tips back another shot of whiskey.

"Must just be moody. Maybe you guys should come out to the lake with me this weekend. I’m taking the boat out.” He shrugs. “Yeah that sounds good.” Your dad smiles. “Maybe getting out of the house will help her out.” He shrugs.

“I don’t know, I just know she’s in my damn nerves.” He laughs. Once they finish up their drinks, they part ways. Driving down the same roads to get home since they were neighbors. They’d usually carpool together but they’d met after work. When your dad arrives home, you’re home already. Watching a show on the couch. He closes the door behind him as he steps inside, smiling when he sees you. “Hey. John invited us out to go fishin this weekend. I said we’d go.” He smiles. “Do I have to?” You mumble. “Yes.” A grumble leaves your lips. “I’m not sure what the attitude is but it better quit young lady.” You roll your eyes, going upstairs to your room. Throwing yourself back on your bed with a groan.

—

John smiles at your dad, he’s sitting up at the front of the boat. You’re laying on your stomach, bikini leaving little to the eyes, you’ve got a pair of sunglasses on and you haven’t spoken much the entire trip. “John, you mind letting me off at the doc? I’m gonna go get another case of beer.” He nods his head, starting up the boat and making his way to shore. He lets your dad off, letting him know he’s going to go back out with you and to let him know when to come get him. When he’s back out on the lake and the anchor is down, he flips his hat around. Scooping up some water with his hand and flicking it all over you. He draws a gasp from your lips and you turn around, “John what the hell!” You gasp. Wiping the water down. “Cmon kid. You’re driving your poor ol’ man nuts. What’s with the attitude?” He crosses his arms, lazy smile playing at his lips. “I don’t have an attitude. Why does everyone keep saying that?” You roll your eyes. “Oh come on. The eye rolling, talking back, ignoring people when they talk to you. Being a real brat little lady.” He teases. You grumble, laying back down. “Nope. Cmon. You’re gonna try fishing. You’ll have fun.” He picks up a fishing pole. “We’re using worms. I mean.. you can use power bait but the stocked fished are smaller than natural spawn fish. It’s up to you.” He shrugs, holding out the styrofoam container that has the worms in it. You sigh, taking it from him. “You want me to show you how to put a worm on?” He asks. “Yeah sure.” You mumble. “Alright, here. You basically just thread it through the top.” You watch him hook the worm and thread it on, watching as it squirms. You take the pole from him, casting it out into the water and waiting.

Pretty soon, there’s a boat full of younger guys creeping up near you. They cat call you, yelling out obscenities at you. You ignore them, rolling your eyes. John is a little amused because he knows what your dad has said about guys your age and how you hate dating. They leave just as quickly as they come. “Can we just home? This is boring.” You roll your eyes. “No, not until we catch some fish.” He laughs.

This is where he starts to see it.

When you think he’s not paying attention, you’re adjusting yourself. Sliding awkwardly on the seat, rubbing up against your fishing pole for any sort of friction. Acting more and more bratty as the time ticks on. It’s amusing to John really, to see just how frustrated you are. “Where is my dad? He’s been gone a long time.” John shrugs. He pulls out his phone. He notices a text from your dad, seeing that he’s received a text from him a few minutes before.

You mind giving Y/N a lift home? Her mom texted me and said she took a bad fall at work and is in the ER.

Yeah no problem at all, see you later mate.

“He said your mum fell at work so he’s going to go see if she’s okay. It’s just me and you kid.” John sits down. “So we can go home now?” You ask. “No.” He laughs. You mutter something under your breath. He laughs. Your fishing pole bobbing startles you and John perks up. "You got a fish!" You set the hook, yanking the fishing pole and starting to reel it in. The fish puts up a pretty good fight and when you reel it closer to the boat, John scoops it up with the fishing net for you. Helping you get it off the hook. "Look at that darling." He smiles as you pick it up. "Good girl, see? This is fun." He smiles. His statement takes you off guard, cheeks heating up. "Uh.. Yeah. Whatever." You shut down quickly. He thinks it's odd at first. Once you've thrown the fish back into the water, he sits down across from you at the front of the boat.

He looks around, making sure no one else is around. “Look. I know what’s going on.” He smiles. “Yeah? And what’s that?” You look at him. “Well.. I’m putting two and two together here. The attitude, the never wanting to go out.” He smirks. You look up at him. “I mean.. you’ve been grinding up against your fishing pole since I gave it to you. Rubbing your thighs together when that boat full of guys came by.” Your lips part slightly, cheeks going red. "And when I called you a good girl." He chuckles, seeing how you start to squirm from his watchful eyes on you. “Do you not know how to make yourself cum sweetheart?” He laughs. "T-that's inappropriate John." You look away from his gaze, thankful your sunglasses help conceal your embarrassment. He laughs. "Oh come on, what your dad doesn't know won't hurt him, besides. You've been on his nerves lately and if I help you out, maybe he won't be so stressed out. So talk to me." He smiles. You stay quiet and he moves across the boat, sitting right next to you, throwing an arm over your shoulders. "You can talk to me darling. I can help you." Your heart rate picks up, it's racing in your chest. "I.. I don't know what you want me to say." You breathe. You're one step away from panting at his close proximity. The only thing you can think about are his hands on you. "Have you ever had sex before?" He asks. You shake your head. "Have you.. done anything at all?" You shake your head again. "I've tried to it myself but it makes it worse." You look down at your hands nervously playing with them.

He smiles. Right now, John is thankful there is a room below on his boat. "I can show you." He rests his hand on your thigh, feeling you stiffen up under his touch. "O-okay." You breathe. "Come on." He grasps your hand. There aren't many boats left on the water, it's getting late in the day and everyone is going home thankfully, you might get a little loud. He pulls you down the small set of stairs into the cabin of the boat. It's really small. He makes sure to wash his hands before he touches you, having you do the same.

There's a small bed and a table and chairs and that's it. "Lay on your back." You swallow hard, getting up onto the bed. His deep voice has your clit throbbing at the attention it knows it's about to get. You're sure you've soaked through your panties. He leans onto the bed, helping you remove your bathing suit. When your bottom half is exposed to him, he wants to drool. "God you're beautiful." He groans. He glides his hands down your exposed thighs, causing chills to rise on your skin. You're panting now, small gasps leaving your lips. "Relax." He chuckles. "I'm going to help you, try to calm down sweetheart. You're too eager." He runs his fingertips over your skin, his touch is searing, it burns your skin as his fingers move across you. You want his hands on you. You want them inside of you. He takes a deep breath of his own, trying to ignore the way his cock throbs against his cargo shorts. "Start slow. Little circles on your clit." He reaches forward. "Like this." He breathes. He uses his thumb, rubbing circles over you. Your lips part slightly, a whimper leaving your lips. It’s different when he’s touching you. You can feel your lower stomach swirling, something is building already. “You try.” He draws his hand away. Resting your hand over your mound, rubbing circles over your clit just as he said. The sensation is gone just as fast as it came, causing you to whimper out at the loss, your touch feels like nothing. You draw your hand away. “This isn’t going to work John, it doesn’t work.” You blush.

You try to sit up but he pushes you back. “Have you ever cum before?” He asks. You shake your head. “Oh darling.. no wonder you’re so bratty.” He smiles. “All of that sexual tension and no way to release it. Poor thing.” He’s teasing you, but at the same time actually feels really bad. He knows it’s harder for you to cum. “Stop it John.” You try to push him off, tears gathering in your eyes from frustration. “I’m just teasing darling, let me help you.” He moves himself up further, grasping your thighs and pulling you down on the bed further, you let your head rest back on the pillow, looking up at the ceiling. The boat rocks back and fourth over the water. You’re nervous. You don’t know what he’s going to do to you. He moves himself between your legs, and you don’t understand what's going on until you feel something warm and wet against your entrance. You lift your head up, jumping at the sensation. “Oh f-fuck!” You gasp. He glances up at you. He’s still got his hat on, but he’s flipped it backward by now. Giving himself room to devour you. He moans into your opening, you taste sweet. You’re breathing hard, clutching at the sheets as he flicks his tongue over your clit. He starts slow, letting your sensitive nub get used to the sensation of his tongue, not wanting to overwhelm you. You clutch at the sheets, melting further and further into him as he laps at your entrance with his tongue. It's clear that he's had a fair share of experience. You feel something building in your stomach and you know you're about to cum.

You're getting louder and louder, crying out his name and he's never imagined himself in such a position.

This is just to help her dad, so that he isn't so stressed out.

That's all.

John rocks his hips into the bed, cock hard and throbbing against his shorts. Begging for some kind of friction. He imagines your pretty lips around his cock, maybe your pretty eyes looking up at him as you take him further down your throat. He groans into you earning another moan from your lips. When you're wet enough from his spit and your arousal, he slides a couple of his fingers into you. Feeling you tense up around him, all of the air leaving your lungs, you've never had anything inside before and he can't help but smile into you.

He sucks against your clit, swirling his tongue around it, you're squirming, struggling to stay still beneath him, even his grip on you doesn't keep you completely still. He sucks your clit into his mouth one more time, lapping his tongue over you, his fingers curling into the sweet spot inside of you and you lose it, lips parting as moans leave your lips. A mewl leave your lips and you squirm out of his grasp as he desperately laps up your arousal from your orgasm. You push him away, closing your legs. You're looking at him with a look of pure shock, panting, a little sweaty. The look you're giving him it's unsettling how fucked out you look. He wipes his lips of you, looking up at you. "Do you feel better?" He laughs. You nod your head. "Good. Try to relax." He smiles. "Still got about an hour of light left, let's make it worth while and try to catch some fish yeah?" He smiles, standing up. When he's out of your line of sight, he sucks the taste of you off of his fingers. Groaning at himself.

What has he just gotten himself into?

[hawkinsbnbg]

Cat hybrid Steve who was returned to the shelter multiple times because he was too high-maintained.

Since he was a rare breed that would get sick easily when upset, most owners deemed him a burden and returned him after just a few days because they didn’t want to get fined for hybrid neglect by PETH—People for the Ethical Treatment of Hybrids.

Their reason was that they couldn’t afford his expensive diet in the long run or play with him all the time.

What they wouldn’t admit was that Steve didn’t need all those pricey food, toys, or clothes. He just simply asked for their affection, which they were always so stingy with.

On the other hand, they kept demanding things from him, rewarding him when he managed to please them and dropping him at the drop of a hat when he failed or refused to satisfy them.

Gradually, he grew bitter about it. He became moody and withdrawn. Every time there were new customers visiting, he would hide in his room and wouldn’t come out until they left.

Thankfully, Joyce and Hopper didn’t seem to be upset with him for it. They just let him be and treated him like any other hybrids at their shelter.

Meanwhile, their kids—Will, Jonathan, and El—kept hanging out with him and treating him like their equal.

Perhaps, that was a major part of why he agreed to meet Eddie Munson at their insistence.

For all he knew, the man was insanely wealthy and famous for being a rockstar. Could provide him with a comfortable life and attention that he had been craving for.

Steve was suspicious but he still gave Eddie a chance, trusting El’s judgment when she said the man was a genuinely good person.

Then, the first thing Eddie had said to him was, “Pretty one, may I take care of you?”

And Steve was sold.

It wasn’t wise to risk his battered heart again when he had ended up abandoned countless times.

But strangely enough, Eddie’s dimpled smiles and kindness made him want to try, to hope, to be brave once more.

So he had stayed, let Eddie get closer to him as days went by. He tried to be cautious, but Eddie was charming and funny and affectionate.

The man lavished him with gifts, cuddles, and kisses all the time. Giving him things he wanted and was afraid to ask for. Allowing him to sleep on the same bed and never pushing him to do anything he didn’t like.

Spoiling him without limitation, to the point that Steve started blushing and feeling warm in his tummy every time the man touched him.

He didn’t think it would be a problem until he was gathered into Eddie’s lap one day and mewled when the man stroked his back.

“Someone’s feeling happy today, hm?” Eddie smiled softly at him, making his heart flutter and his breath hitch.

Steve nodded shyly, his ears flat on his head in embarrassment while the end of his tail curled itself around Eddie’d wrist like usual.

Maybe that was it.

He was just getting too excited with Eddie being home and nothing else.

But then, he outright moaned and arched his back when Eddie’s hand began moving again.

“Sorry,” Steve bit his lip and intended to stand up, not wanting Eddie to think he was weird.

Except the hand on his waist just tightened further and prevented him from leaving.

“I know it’s not your fault, kitten,” Eddie combed through his hair soothingly. “If you want, I can find a partner for you.”

Steve frowned in confusion before meeting Eddie’s eyes, dark and unreadable for the first time since they met each other.

“… Partner?”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Eddie reassured him with a smile that seemed too forced to be genuine. “You can use the right wing of the house during your heat and I’ll only be a floor away. Your partner will also be hand-picked by me and your doctor so there won’t be any scum– sorry, any troubles that can slip through the crack and cause you harm.”

Steve felt light-headed at the mention of heat. He couldn't believe it would arrive after having been absent for so long.

Why now? Why did it choose to show up now when things were going so well for him? And what did Eddie mean by hand-picking a partner for him?

The mere thought of letting someone who wasn’t Eddie touch him that way was enough to make Steve’s hackles rise.

Then again, he wasn’t human and he knew Eddie wouldn't want him like that despite how affectionate the man was to him.

“What's wrong, baby?” Eddie cradled the side of his face gently when he let out a whine.

“I–” Steve squeezed his eyes shut, feeling his lips start wobbling at the thought of Eddie rejecting him.

It was his fault for forgetting his place and catching feelings for the one man who was out of his reach.

Of course, there was no law against hybrid and human relationships, but they were still frowned upon and their offspring would be listed as hybrids for the rest of their life once they were born.

A disadvantage that most humans would want to avoid. Usually, they used hybrids for their own needs—sex, entertainment, companionship. And rarely would they consider treating their hybrids as the object of their love and bailing their children out of their doomed fate with money.

A lot of money.

Perhaps, Eddie would grant Steve’s wish since the man could afford it. But his hope had been quashed the moment Eddie talked about finding a partner for him.

If that wasn’t a sign for Steve to give up, then he didn’t know what it was.

“It’s nothing,” he smiled and pushed down the urge to cry, he could do that later once Eddie left for work. “Sorry for worrying you, Master. It’s probably an effect of my heat.”

“You sure you don’t have anything to tell me?” Eddie looked into his eyes, searching for something he didn’t know.

Steve took in a deep breath and nodded with as much strength as he could muster up even when it hurt.

“I’m sure.”

Eddie didn’t say anything, the man just grabbed his chin and captured him in a fervent kiss, causing him to gush more slick between his legs.

It wasn’t until he ruined his shorts with how soaked he was did Eddie release him.

“You’re mine, kitten,” Eddie nipped the tip of his ear while cupping him through the damp cotton. “No one’s allowed to touch you like this but me.”

“Only yours, Master,” Steve babbled and undulated his hip to seek more friction from Eddie’s big hand, mewling when Eddie caught his tail and tugged it teasingly. “Only yours.”

“Good boy,” Eddie chuckled before kissing him again and again and again.

In the end, Steve was kept in bed for a whole week even though his heat only lasted three days.

Turned out, Eddie had been the trigger of his heat according to Claudia, much to his embarrassment and Eddie’s amusement.

It wasn’t a surprise when nine months later, Steve gave birth to their twins—Maxine Munson and Joey Munson.

And of course, Eddie had paid a hefty price for their children to not get registered as hybrids.

Not only that, they also ran a lifelong campaign to advocate for hybrids’ rights and betterment, helping them escape from their fate.

It wasn’t always sunshine and rainbow, but with his husband and children by his side, Steve had grown into his own self and achieved as many of his goals as he could until the last day of his life.

And he knew one day, many people like him and Eddie would follow in their footsteps so they could live a life full of love without regrets.

And so he hoped.

[krirebr]

More Than This 3

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader

Word Count: ~5.8k

Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.

Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, multiple references to vomit (but nothing graphic, I don't think), attempted sex that makes everyone sad - dubcon on both sides, explicit language, the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Alright friends, here we go! Now we're really in it.

A gigantic thank you, as always, to @paperweight91 for reading so much of this and talking it all through with me, especially the last section, which I've been anxious about since I originally conceived of it ages ago. You're the best, Chelsea!

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. And if you need to come scream at me, that's ok too!

As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

You heard Ransom get up in the early hours of the morning and stumble into the bathroom to retch. You were glad he didn’t choke on his vomit, you guessed. You were still on the couch with the TV turned down low. You wondered if he’d come out and see what you were doing, but he just stumbled back to the bed when he was done. 

You didn’t hear him again for several more hours. In that time, you mostly watched TV, dozed a little, fucked around on your phone. Time passed slowly, but it still passed. Soon, the sun was coming up. You were moving across the country today. Your new life was starting whether you wanted it or not.

A few hours later you heard the beginnings of movement in the bedroom. You called down to room service and ordered two carafes of coffee, along with a few different breakfast options, ranging from light to extremely greasy. You didn’t know what his hangovers were like, what they required. But you knew that an especially moody Ransom wouldn’t do you any good. So, a peace offering of a sort. 

The food arrived before he’d shown his face. As you looked at the cart, you thought that while you were trying to start things as well as you could for your own good, it didn’t erase everything he’d done the day before, how he’d treated you. So you made no effort to be quiet as you laid out the food and got the coffee ready. You may have banged the metal covers together as noisily as you could. 

“What the fuck?” Ransom grumbled as he came stumbling out of the bedroom in just his boxer briefs. “Why is there noise?”

“Coffee,” you said, handing him the mug you’d filled. “I didn’t know how you take it.”

He took a sip and just grunted at you and then turned around and went back into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

You busied yourself by getting your own coffee and munching on some toast. You still had no appetite but figured you should probably eat something. 

A few minutes later, he came back out with a now empty mug. He stopped and stared at you. “Am I still drunk or are you still wearing your wedding dress?”

You tried not to let your embarrassment show. “I couldn’t get it off by myself, so…” you trailed off and shrugged. 

He looked at you for another moment then nodded once. “Give me a minute,” he said, as he poured himself another cup. He drank it quickly, then briefly held his head in his hands. When he looked back up, he took a deep breath, then mumbled “OK.” He came up behind you and lightly touched your dress. “Is there a trick to it?” he asked as he ran a finger down the seam. 

“It’s a long line of hook-and-eyes, you know?”

He hummed and then started at the top. As he worked, he grumbled to himself, which made you feel a little better about not being able to get it off. You’d never stop being surprised by how gentle his hands were. It seemed to be in complete opposition to every other part of him. When he was about halfway down, his knuckles lightly grazed the bare skin of your back and a shudder ran through your whole body. “Sorry,” he said, softly. You just shook your head and didn’t say anything.

When he was done, he quickly took a step back. You held your dress to you, trying to preserve your modesty, even though you knew how silly that was. You just weren’t ready for him to see you, although you doubted that that mattered. “Thank you,” you whispered.

He nodded again, then “You mind if I take the first shower?”

You shook your head and he disappeared into the ensuite. 

About an hour and a half later, you sat with him in the back of a town car, on your way to the private airfield where one of his family’s planes awaited you. Neither of you said anything. Ransom was staring at something on his phone, while you put all your energy into trying not to have a panic attack. You had no idea what was waiting for you in Boston. You weren’t ready for this. You couldn’t do it.

As the car pulled up to the hangar, you were beyond relieved to see Steve already waiting there, Lola’s travel crate at his feet. The moment the car was parked and turned off, you lept out, not waiting for anyone to open the door for you. You bent down in front of Lola’s crate first and carefully stuck your fingers through the door. “Hi, baby, I missed you.” She kissed your fingers and then whined to be let out. “Not yet, honey,” you said softly. “You have to wait til we’re on the plane.”

You stood up and faced Steve, who was looking you over carefully. “How are you doing?” he asked seriously.

You shrugged and sighed. “Freaking out a little, I guess, but it’ll be fine.”

“And if it isn’t, you’ll call me,” he said, voice firm. “I don’t care where you are or what time it is, you call me. Ok?” You nodded. He opened his mouth to say more, but then the call of your name came from over your shoulder.

You turned to see Ransom standing between you and the jet. Your heart dropped. No, not yet. You needed more time. You needed to be able to actually say goodbye. You couldn’t– “I’ll be on the plane,” he said, voice still scratchy and tired, sunglasses firmly on, despite the overcast day. “Take your time.” He turned around and began walking up the stairs. 

You just stared after him for a moment, surprised. When you turned back to Steve, his lips were curled in disgust. But then the expression quickly changed to something much sadder. “I should have done more,” he said, “gotten you out of here, sent you away or something. I can’t–”

“Steve.” you interrupted. “Please stop. It’s no use now.” You couldn’t listen to any more of this. It had always been inevitable; it’d always been what you were for. Imagining anything else was useless. 

Neither of you said anything for a moment, then he looked around and asked, “Are Dad and Lydia on their way?” 

You tried to keep any hurt out of your expression when you said, “No, something important came up for Joseph and you know Mom has a hard time going anywhere by herself.” You ignored the cracks you heard in your own voice.

Steve’s brow furrowed in confusion and upset. “I would have picked her up,” he said. “Hell, I’ll go get her right now.” 

“I know,” you said sadly. “I told her that, but you know how she is.” You dropped your eyes, not able to look at the anger you knew you’d see on Steve’s face. You were angry too, you were, but mostly now you were just sad. And after thinking about it all night, you honestly weren’t sure how much anger she deserved. She’d been broken for a long time. It’d happened before you’d even known her, probably. It’d been unfair, maybe, to expect her to be strong for you now when she’d never been able to be that before.

Steve said your name and you looked up at him. “You don’t deserve this,” he said firmly. “I know I’ve said it before, but I really need you to understand it. None of this is what you deserve.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you just nodded and muttered, “OK.” 

He sighed and shook his head, then pulled you into his arms. “I’m going to miss you so fucking much,” he said into your hair. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without having you just a few minutes away to annoy whenever I want.”

You huffed a laugh into his shoulder. “I’m going to miss you too,” you said. “So much. Even when you’re being so annoying.” The tears were starting now, you weren’t able to hold them back. You pulled back and briefly got a good enough look at Steve’s face to see that his eyes were wet, too, before he knelt in front of Lola’s crate.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said quietly. “I’m going to miss you too. You take good care of your mom for me.” 

You couldn’t help the little sob that came out of you at that. Fuck. Steve had been stuck to your side since you were six years old. Through absolutely everything. He’d been the one person you could count on for as long as you could remember. And now you were being dragged away from him. 

He stood up and pulled you into another hug. “You’re so strong,” he whispered right in your ear. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

When he pulled back, you knew it was time to go, but you didn’t know how to pull yourself away. This all felt so final.

“Let me know when you land,” he said. “And when you get to the house. And just–” he sighed. “Everything. I want to know everything, ok?”

You nodded and tried to brush the tears from your eyes. “Yeah, ok,” you said, knowing you’d send him the exact amount of information that would keep him from worrying too much. You picked up the dog crate. You locked eyes with him one last time. “I love you.”

His voice was thick when he responded, “I love you too. I’m going to sit right here until you’ve taken off, ok? I’ll be right here.”

“You’re a good brother,” you said, as you slowly took your first step backward, toward the jet. 

“Yes. I am,” he said with a smile that was half cocky and half absolutely heartbreaking. 

With one last deep breath and an “OK,” that was mostly to yourself, you forced yourself to turn around and make your way to the stairs up to the jet. Once you were halfway up, you looked over your shoulder. Steve was leaning against his car. He gave you an encouraging smile and a small wave. You nodded and took the last few steps to board the plane.

A flight attendant was standing right there to greet you. “Welcome aboard, Mrs. Drysdale,” she said and you couldn’t help the way your mouth dropped open in shock. Mrs. Drysdale. That’s who you were now. You tried to pull yourself together and let her show you into the main cabin. It was mostly open, with a few plush seats and tables scattered around. Ransom was already in one, fully reclined with a sleep mask pulled over his eyes. He made no indication that he was awake, so you asked the attendant for a mask for yourself and a glass of water. As she went to fulfill your request, you opened Lola’s little cage and picked her up when she came out. She was nervous, shaking with her little tail tucked between her legs. “It’ll be ok,” you said softly, the tears threatening to stream down again. You took a deep breath and settled the both of you into a seat as far from Ransom as you could get in the small private jet. You gave Lola gentle pets until she sat down on your lap. “We’ll just take a nap,” you said, “and it’ll be over before we know it.”

“What the fuck is that?”

You woke with a start and pulled off your sleep mask. “Huh?” You sat up to see Ransom and Lola locked in a staredown. 

“What is that?”

“I told you that I had a dog,” you said, confused. 

“That!” Ransom yelled, pointing at Lola, “is not a dog. That’s a long-haired rat!”

“Hey!” you yelled back, just as Lola started retching. “Oh, baby, no!” You knelt down next to her just as she puked right at Ransom’s feet.

“What the shit?!” he cried out, jumping back. 

“She’s stressed, ok? It’s not like I can explain to her what a plane is or where we’re going!” You grabbed what was left of your water and the napkin the flight attendant had brought with the glass and tried to clean it up. “Shit,” you mumbled to yourself.

“What are you doing?” He stood over you with his hands on his hips.

“I’m cleaning it up so you don’t freak out, ok? It’ll be fine, just give me a minute.”

“Get up.”

“What?”

“You don’t need to do that. The crew probably has a steam cleaner or something. My dad uses this plane. I’m sure they’ve seen worse.” He walked to the front of the cabin and knocked on the divider. When the attendant came, Ransom quietly told her, “The dog got sick. I assume you have something to clean it up.” 

She nodded and quickly came out with a portable steam cleaner and made quick work of Lola’s mess. 

“Thank you,” you told her.

“No problem at all, Mrs. Drysdale,” she smiled and went back to the galley.

“Well, that’s a real mindfuck,” Ransom said as he flopped back into his seat. He glared down at Lola, “She gonna do that again?”

“I don’t know,” you said, gently picking her up and holding her close to try to comfort her.

He pulled his sleep mask down over his eyes. “Great, love being a rat-dog owner.”

“She isn’t your dog,” you said curtly. 

“Whatever. This hangover is still pounding against my skull. Wake me when we land.” 

When you landed in Boston, Ransom led you to where his vintage beamer was parked and you both squeezed into it. The slightly hysterical thought struck you that it wouldn’t be suitable at all once there was a baby to cart around. You pushed that thought away. No use getting ahead of yourself.

Ransom’s house was on the edge of the city, surrounded by more trees than you expected. From the outside, it was mostly glass. Very modern. It felt cold.

He parked the car and grabbed the few bags you both had with you. The rest of your things would be delivered the next day. He showed you inside without much pomp or circumstance, just walked in ahead of you, and left the door open.

The majority of the first floor seemed to be one large, open-plan room. It was sparsely decorated and the pieces that were there seemed to be lifted wholesale from the pages of an upscale furniture catalog. There was nothing of Ransom in this house. Not that you really knew him well enough to say, but you didn’t think there was any information to be gleaned from his living space either. It all felt very empty. It was not what you had expected.

You set Lola down on the hardwood floor and she immediately ran off to explore. You crossed your fingers that she wouldn’t get into anything, not able to forget Ransom’s threat that he’d make you get rid of her if she messed anything up. You glanced over at Ransom to gauge if he was upset that you’d let her roam on her own, but he wasn’t paying any attention, leafing through a pile of mail left on the kitchen island. 

He must have felt you watching him, because without looking up he said, “Bedroom’s upstairs. I’ll bring our things up later.”

You nodded even though he wasn’t looking at you. You grabbed your bag, not wanting to wait for him, and made your way up the staircase in the middle of the living room. Judging by how he’d treated you so far, you figured he planned to tuck you away in some guest room, out of his way except for when he needed you. It wasn’t unheard of in marriages like this, and you would honestly be grateful to have your own space. But as you looked through the rooms upstairs, you found a home gym, a study, and 2 storage rooms. There’d also been a bathroom and a few closets. The only room left had to be his, but you couldn’t imagine he’d want to share that with you. You very gingerly walked in and set your bag at the foot of the bed. You didn’t spend any more time there, afraid that you might be wrong.

When you went back downstairs, he was now rummaging through his fridge. “I put my bag in the bedroom upstairs,” you said to his back. 

He just grunted his assent, then came out with two glass containers in his hands. He plated them both and put one in the microwave. “I have a housekeeper that comes three times a week and usually prepares meals for the whole week. You can give her any food preferences you have.”

You nodded. “I enjoy cooking,” you said, your mother's advice to ‘keep him happy’ floating in your mind. “I can make dinner too, sometimes.”

He nodded and shrugged as he took the plate out of the microwave and placed it in front of you on the island. You took a seat on one of the stools. “If you want,” he said, “but I don’t expect it.” He put his own plate in the microwave.

“Do you have any other staff?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Not for the house, not right now.”

You understood the implication that the staff would grow as your family did. A nanny, a driver, a gardener maybe, if you moved to a house that required one.

It was the lack of a driver that made you nervous. You’d never gone without one at home. You also hadn’t seen a large garage on the property, so you guessed there weren’t any extra cars around. You felt stuck in this house already, shut in like he didn’t want you to leave.

When his food was heated, he sat beside you and you ate together in silence. The food was fine, you were sure, but you couldn’t taste it. Your mind was ahead of you, wondering what the rest of the night held. 

When you were done, Ransom loaded your dishes into the dishwasher and then said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m beat, so I’m just going straight to bed. Feel free to stay up if you want. I’m a heavy sleeper so you won’t wake me when you come in.”

“Oh,” you said, trying to hide your surprise. So he did intend for you to share his room. But apparently, just for sleeping. You were relieved. You were. The little voice in your head that wouldn’t stop whispering that he didn’t want you didn’t count. “I’m still three hours behind, so I might stay up a little longer.” Doing what, you had no idea. You didn’t have any of your things and you weren’t sure what was off-limits here yet. And you were exhausted, still hadn’t recovered from not sleeping the night before. But you just couldn’t deal with the awkwardness of going to bed at the same time as him.

“OK,” he said and then just stood there, looking surprisingly lost. After a couple of endless minutes, he just said, “Goodnight,” and finally went upstairs.

You grabbed your phone out of your handbag, unsurprised to see multiple messages from Steve, checking in on you. You sent him one back, assuring him that the flight had been fine, the drive to the house was fine, you were fine. You collected Lola from where she was curled up on a rug, quickly fed her and let her out, and then brought her and her crate upstairs. After a few minutes of internal debate, you decided to set her up in the gym, fairly certain that even in her crate, Ransom wouldn’t want her in his bedroom. It took a lot of coaxing to get her in. She was so used to sharing your bed. She whined when you closed the little grate and your heart broke. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered. “You’ll get used to it. It’ll be ok.”

You quietly went into the bedroom and Ransom was, indeed, already asleep, spread out on his stomach again, but luckily this time only taking up one side of the bed. He’d left the lamp on the opposite side on for you. You took your sleep clothes out of your bag and brought your toiletries into the ensuite, unpacking only what you’d need for the night. His things were all piled around one of the side-by-side sinks, but the other was clear for you. You went through your nightly routine quickly and then went back into the bedroom and very carefully climbed into bed. He didn’t stir. You turned off the lamp and settled at the edge of the bed. Your exhaustion took you quickly.

When you woke in the morning, Ransom was gone.

Your things were delivered a few hours after you woke. You started by trying to organize the boxes into the least obtrusive pile possible. You hoped that if they were tucked into a corner, he wouldn’t be too annoyed while you took your time going through them. You started with a few of the smaller boxes, unpacking the items into places you hoped they could go.

You took Lola for a walk around the neighborhood. It was sparsely populated, the houses spaced far apart. You didn’t run into any neighbors.

One of the walk-in closets in the bedroom had been cleared out for you, so you spent the afternoon unpacking all your clothes. By the time you were done, it was time for dinner. There was still no sign of Ransom.

You fed Lola and helped yourself to one of the meals in the fridge. You ate alone and after you cleaned up, you dug a book out of one of your boxes and settled on one of the not-very-comfortable couches with Lola to read. You didn’t know if she was allowed on the furniture – you were sure she wasn’t, actually – but Ransom wasn’t here to see it, so you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. 

As you were finishing the second chapter in your book, he walked through the front door. With how the house was set up, he had a clear view of you and Lola from the door. “Hi,” was all he said.

“Hi,” was all you could say back.

He just stood there for a moment and then took off his coat and shoes. “How was your day?” he asked, stiffly, as he came into the living room. 

“Fine,” you said. Then you realized he was actually attempting conversation and added, “My things came, so I got started unpacking.”

He nodded, “That’s good. Did you eat?”

“I did,” you said, hoping that was the right answer. “Can I get you some food?”

“No, I’m fine. I ate at the office.” Well, that answered where he’d been all day – his family’s publishing house.

He cleared his throat. “I’m going to go upstairs to unwind. Will you be heading up soon?” 

Oh. Right. It’d finally come. “Yeah,” you said, your mouth suddenly dry. “I’ll just get Lola settled and then join you.”

He looked down at your dog in your lap like he was noticing her for the first time. But he didn’t say anything, just nodded and walked upstairs.

You let Lola out the back door for just a couple minutes, then took her upstairs. It was even harder to get her into her crate this time, even after you buried treats in her blankets. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you cooed, once you finally had her locked in. “I promise it won’t always be this hard and scary. It’ll be ok.”

Ransom was waiting for you in his room, sitting in an armchair by the window. “We should talk,” he said quietly.

“Ok.” You perched on the edge of the bed and did your best to look him in the eye, even as your heart was racing. 

He took a deep breath and leaned forward. “We don’t–” he started, then another breath. “There’s nothing that we have to do tonight. I mean, we can certainly get the first time out of the way, if that’s what you want to do. But it doesn’t have to be now. We have time.”

You wanted to be relieved, but it just felt like delaying the inevitable. “We don’t, actually,” you said shaking your head. “We don’t have that much time. Especially if it takes a while. If there’s going to be an issue getting pregnant, on either side, I think the sooner we know the better. I don’t want to be blindsided by it when we only have a month left.”

“Ok,” he nodded. “That makes sense. Yeah, we can get it over with.”

You were proud of yourself for the way you didn’t wince at his phrasing, but it was a near thing. But was it really fair to be upset or hurt by that when it was how you were feeling too? You wanted to stop delaying it. You were ready to just know how it was going to be, what he would want. So yeah, maybe ‘get it over with’ wasn’t such a bad way to put it. 

He stood up and sighed, looking like he was bracing himself. “I do need to know, have you done this before?”

You swallowed. The question wasn’t unexpected but you weren’t sure how to answer it and didn’t know which answer he was looking for. You decided to be honest and hoped it would be ok. “Yes, I’ve had sex,” you said, quietly.

He let out a long exhale in relief. “Ok,” he said, “ok, that’s good.” 

You stood up, unsure of what to do. You just wanted to be on the other side of it. You suddenly thought of what you’d just told Lola. It wouldn’t always be this hard and scary. You would get used to it. You just had to get through this first time. And then you’d know how he was. Resolved now, you started taking off your shirt.

“Wait,” he said, breathed really. “Just wait.”

Your shirt was already halfway off, stuck on your arms above your head, so you shucked it the rest of the way and threw it on the floor, but didn’t do anything else.

He came over and stood so he was in your space. He brought his hand up to cup your face, his thumb on your cheekbone. And very slowly, he ducked his head to bring his lips to yours. There was something about it. The intimacy. Even with what you knew you were about to do with him. You just– A kiss was too much. You turned away. You couldn’t do it.

Instead, your hands went to unbutton your pants. You undid it slowly then bent over with your back to him to push them down your legs, sticking your ass out as much as you could. That was better than a kiss, right? You could make him want you.

You kicked your pants off and stood back up, looking over your shoulder to see him watching you. But his face was unreadable. You weren’t ready for him to touch you, so you said, “I can get myself ready for you,” hoping it came off coy, but you were afraid he’d be able to hear how your voice shook. For the briefest moment, you almost thought you saw something travel across his face. Disappointment, maybe. But it was gone too fast for you to be able to tell, and you were trying so hard to look away, anyway.

You got on the bed, lying on your back, sliding your panties off as seductively as you could. You closed your eyes tight and slowly moved one hand down your abdomen while the other started to play with your breast, cupping it, tweaking your nipple. As your other hand slipped between your thighs, you brought up your go-to fantasy. Nothing fancy or outlandish. Just a man standing over you, touching you, telling you how much he loved you, how much he loved your body. How he was going to ruin you, completely take you apart. You tried to focus on that as your fingers slowly made their way between your folds, as they made their way to your clit. But this room kept pulling you back to reality. You could hear Ransom taking his clothes off. You tried to ignore it. You were starting to get wet, slowly but surely, so you carefully pushed one finger inside yourself, trying so hard to focus on the man, his voice. You heard a bottle of lube flick open. No, no, you weren’t here, as you added another finger. You could hear Ransom’s hand on his cock now as your thumb continued to rub your clit. You opened your eyes despite yourself. Ransom was kneeling on the edge of the bed, stroking himself to hardness. It was the first time you’d seen him fully naked. He really was so beautiful. You sort of hated him for it. 

You closed your eyes again. You could do this. You scissored your fingers slowly, opening yourself up, a little whine escaping your lips, when suddenly, you felt a hand wrap around your ankle. You wanted to scream in frustration. It was no use. Your hands dropped down to your sides. You were ready enough. It wouldn’t hurt, it was fine. You blinked your eyes open again to find Ransom staring at your face, searching for something. You couldn’t begin to guess what. “I’m ready,” you said. 

“Are you sure?” he asked, voice soft, but gritty.

“Yeah, I’m good. How do you want me?”

He seemed almost startled by your question. “Uh, however you’re most comfortable.”

You nodded and flipped over onto your stomach, pulling your knees up toward your elbows and putting your ass in the air. This would be easiest if you didn’t have to look at him. If you could imagine someone else. Someone who loved you. Someone who wanted to be here. 

You heard the bottle of lube again and then felt him settle between your legs. One hand was on your ass and you presumed he was using the other to line himself up. You pushed your face into the pillow underneath you. You tried to bring the fantasy back as he slowly eased inside of you. He was big, but not so big it hurt. You breathed through it as he worked his way in with short, slow thrusts. He was being so gentle with you. You weren’t sure if you liked it. The hand on your ass moved to your hip, while the other snaked around to your stomach, softly stroking you there, then moved down over your pelvis, and then finally between your thighs to search for your clit. He found it quickly. But no matter how hard you closed your eyes, his fingers made it impossible for you to pretend that it was anyone else with you, anyone else touching you. Without thinking, you pushed his hand away and replaced it with your own. 

He was making little grunts and gasps behind you that you tried to ignore. You rubbed furious circles over your clit and tried to focus only on the fullness you felt. But then, that fullness started to lessen. The grunts behind you turned into a “Shit.” and then a “Fuck!” and suddenly, that fullness completely disappeared. You let out a little cry as he quickly pulled out of you. You turned around to catch a glimpse of his softening cock before he disappeared into the bathroom, the door slamming behind him. 

You lay on your back for just a moment, your mind trying to catch up, figure out what on earth had just happened. That voice that had been there this whole time, since that first meeting a month ago, came back with smug satisfaction. He doesn’t want you, it said, over and over. Your thighs were sticky, probably mostly from the lube. You didn’t think your wetness or his precome had been enough to make a mess out of you. You got up, desperate to not be naked anymore.  You grabbed a sleep shirt out of the closet you were using and slipped it on. You hugged yourself, standing in the middle of the room with no idea what to do. 

In the silence, with nothing else to focus on, you were suddenly aware of Lola crying across the hall. Fuck. Everything just kept getting worse.

Ransom came out of the bathroom and went straight to the bed. He stopped at the foot, seemingly surprised that you weren’t still in it. He looked up and found you on the other side of the room. 

“Is everything ok?” you asked quietly.

“It’s fine,” he said, voice sharp. You flinched and he sighed, then visibly tried to calm himself down. “It’s fine,” he said again, much softer this time. He held out a washcloth to you. “In case you need to clean yourself up.”

You took a few steps toward him so that you could grab it. “Thank you,” you said, as you quickly wiped between your legs, then went to finish cleaning up in the bathroom. 

When you came back out, he was back in bed, on his back, just staring at the ceiling. “What’s that noise?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s fine,” you hurried to answer. “It’s Lola, but she’s ok. She just isn’t used to sleeping alone. She’ll get used to it, eventually.” Your heart broke as you spoke, but you knew it couldn’t be avoided. 

“Where does she usually sleep?” he asked.

It took you a minute to answer, you were so surprised by the question. “Uh, with me,” you said.

“Then go get her,” he said, without looking at you. He hadn’t looked at you since you’d come out of the bathroom.

“Really?” you whispered.

“Yeah, if it stops her crying.”

You didn’t wait to be told again. You hurried across the hall and opened her crate, scooping her up into your arms. “I’m so sorry,” you cooed. “I’m so, so sorry. It’s going to be ok now.”

When you got back to the room, Ransom had turned off his light and turned over onto his side, facing the wall. You placed Lola on the bed and crawled in after her. As you turned off your own lamp, you whispered, “Thank you,” not sure if he was awake to hear it.

Tag list is open

@stargazingfangirl18 @drabblewithfrannybarnes @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @citronbun @rebeccapineapple @alexakeyloveloki @dancer3205 @i-can-do-this-all-dayy @thecrandle @lokislady82 @thedazzlingburglar @23skidoosteven @she-wolf09231982 @arbesa-mind @samfreakingwinchester @blackhawkfanatic @emerald-writes @identity2212 @have-another-doughnut @patzammit

[the-virgoperspective]

Part 2

The Moon in composite is one half of the most important luminaries and one of the most vital sources of energy in a relationship. It complements the Sun and represents the medium through which the Sun’s energy expresses itself. The composite Moon indicates how well the relationship acts as a medium of emotional expression for the two. The house position of the composite Moon shows the area in which you feel, or ought to feel, that you have the most in common.

I will be using the writings of Robert Hand from his novel “Planets in Composite: Analyzing Human Relations” to describe the meaning and significance of the Moon in each composite house. Please always keep in mind that this is only one vital step to reading an entire composite chart and should not be seriously considered without viewing everything as a whole. This is just one piece. Enjoy!

7H Composite Moon

Composite Moon in the seventh house is a good indication that in this relationship shared feelings will be very important. The seventh is the house of intimate one-to-one encounters, both positive ones such as partnerships and marriage, and negative ones such as open enemies. However you encounter each other, it will be with feeling.

In general, the seventh-house Moon favors any intimate relationship, especially marriage or other love relationship in which sharing emotions is important. You will have a strong feeling that you belong together as a unit, and your emotional attitudes toward the outside world will be similar. The symbolism of this position is that you feel as if you were one person.

Somewhat like the first-house composite Moon, which is the polar counterpart of the seventh-house Moon, there is the danger that in times of emotional stress you will not be able to keep your relationship in perspective. You are likely to become too involved in your personal feelings and not be able to see what is really going on between you. Try to stay somewhat detached from difficult situations so that you can deal with them objectively and not get completely carried away. If you can do that, this should be a very good emotional relationship for both of you.

8H Composite Moon

Composite Moon in the eighth house indicates that your relationship is very introspective. You will spend much time examining what you are as a couple and trying to arrive at a complete psychological understanding of it. Obviously, this is a good attribute in any relationship, if it is not carried too far. Just make sure that you do not become lost in the emotional intricacies of your relationship.

This is a position of transformation, which means that your relationship will undergo extensive changes, partly because of what you will learn about yourselves, partly because of the pressure of your emotions. Sometimes you both will feel that the relationship serves much the same purpose as seeing a psychiatrist or counselor; that is, it gives you new understandings about yourselves.

In addition, this placement of the Moon in the composite chart makes you very concerned with values. If you do not start out with a common set of values, it will be very important that you develop one. Your shared values may be purely on a psychological level, or they might exist more on the material plane as a great concern for possessions and property.

The greatest strength of this Moon placement is the contribution it can make to your self-understanding. It’s greatest difficulty is the tendency to emphasize the heavy, moody aspects of your relationship and to dwell excessively on serious matters. Try not to fall into a “slough of despond” or become too introspective. Explore the new and constantly changing features of your life together, and welcome such changes instead of fearing them.

9H Composite Moon

With composite Moon in the ninth house, there is a strong feeling between you that you share basic attitudes about the world and philosophies of life. Consequently you like to discuss your ideas and opinions with each other. You feel that being together greatly expands your awareness. Even if your backgrounds are quite different, communication between you will not be difficult. You will see differences of that sort simply as an enjoyable challenge to your understanding of each other. It is possible that you may travel long distances together, or that you met in a place foreign to both of you, or that you are from different countries.

At its best, this is a good position for learning and growth within a relationship. You will continually reach each other, and even if the relationship does not last, you both will feel that you have benefited from it.

While this position is good for any type of relationship, it is strongest in situations that emphasize communication and exchange of ideas. It is especially good for people working together on some project, writing together, or negotiating in any way.

In a personal relationship, this placement by itself works more to produce friendship than love, but even in a love relationship there will be a strong intellectual affinity between you.

10H Composite Moon

Composite Moon in the tenth house indicates that you will share a concern for getting ahead in life. You both want to get somewhere, and you feel that together you can do it better than you could separately. Fortunately, the Moon in this house is traditionally associated with making a favorable impact on the public, so your public image is likely to be too. Because of that fact, the potentials of this position can be exploited better by a professional relationship than by a personal one, although it is quite good in either case.

However, in a personal relationship, one factor must be kept in mind. The tenth house is an external house; that is, it deals with matters that are normally part of the external world. Having an important element of the chart in the tenth house indicates that you tend to see things too much in terms of externals. The Moon, representing the feelings and emotions, is particularly damaged by this tendency, because the feeling aspect of a relationship should be an internal concern. It should be between the two of you rather than outside.

There is a danger that you will look to factors in the outside world-your life situation, your jobs, property, or whatever-to explain problems that arise between you. You may look out when you should look in. Or you may concentrate on externals and superficial matters to the exclusion of internal matters. This is not an inevitable result of this placement, but it is a danger that must be recognized and dealt with.

In general, the tenth house is a good position for the composite Moon because it is an angular house, which gives the Moon strength and importance. It also gives the relationship a dynamic, active quality that can prevent stagnation.

11H Composite Moon

Composite Moon in the eleventh house indicates an underlying emotional sympathy between you that is good for both love and friendship. You have a strong feeling of shared goals and objectives in life, which will contribute to your ability to get along with each other. You will spontaneously think of yourselves as a unit rather than as two separate individuals, which obviously is a plus for any relationship.

Since the eleventh house is the house of friends, this position is a good indication that the two of you will have friends outside of the relationship. You will be fine if company and enjoy sharing good times with others. Not only will you have friends in the literal sense, but many factors in your lives together will support your relationship in a friendly way without any special effort on your part.

In general this is one of the better positions for a personal relationship and should enable you to share both love and friendship.

12H Composite Moon

Composite Moon in the twelfth house is a demanding position in that it requires the two of you to do a great deal of work that most couples are unwilling to do. Any relationship is helped by such work, but with this position it is absolutely necessary that you do it.

If left alone, the two of you would be very likely to keep your feelings hidden not only from each other but also from yourselves. When you do this, the feelings become the source of actions and behavior that neither of you understand but that are very detrimental to your relationship. At the same time, you will tend to shy away from other people or at least to keep your feelings hidden from others, perhaps because you fear that if they get too close they will discover your secrets.

With this house position of the Moon, the greatest danger is emotional dishonesty at the very least and sometimes open and outright dishonesty. Very often this happens because you don’t really know what is going on inside your relationship. There may be repressed fears that you do not know how to face or that you can’t face directly.

The need here is for both of you to plunge into the relationship, find out the truth of what is going in, and face it squarely and honestly. Do not shrink from what you find, because the consequences of not being honest with yourself and each other are far worse than anything you may be hiding.

If you don’t seek out the truth, your relationship will make you lesser people than you really are and will give you the feeling that you have been defeated in life by forces you don’t understand. And when the repressed feelings finally do emerge, they will explode destructively and perhaps violently. If, however, these feelings gradually emerge from an honest search for understanding, the wisdom you gain will make you much wiser than people who haven’t had to face such a challenge.

Find part 1 here!

𓆑 divider by @cafekitsune 𓆑 𓆑 image divider by @roseschoices 𓆑

[queenshelby]

Daughter Dearest (Part 11)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (47) x Step! Daughter (21)

Warning: Infidelity, Smut, Dysfunctional Family

Tag List will be updated soon! Please comment and engage!

The following few days passed like a blur. Cillian was in London, working and attending some meetings for another movie while you finally got rid of your ankle monitor, gaining some freedom.

You applied for a few jobs in the hope to save enough money to move out again, even before you were scheduled to relocate to New York to attend your photography course, while your mother was busy shopping for Award Season dresses with your sister who was keen to be a third wheel at the Golden Globes and Oscars that year.

"Why do you even want to go to these award shows with them? I mean, don't you feel weird about it?" you questioned your twin-sister Cliona one evening, as the two of you sat together in the kitchen, eating leftover pizza and chatting, while your mother was putting Sadie to bed. 

"Because it is fantastic for networking," she replied, chewing on a slice of pizza. "You never know who might be there and, besides, these events are great opportunities to show off," she added smugly, throwing a smug smile at you.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes and ignore her comment, allowing her to talk some more. Cliona had always been more interested in your stepfather's status than you had and, although you sometimes wished that you didn't care about her attitude towards his fame, it bothered you a lot lately.

In recent days, you had become particularly moody and being in a house with her and your mother, often alone, didn't help your nerves, despite the fact that you did love them.

On top of that, you had tried to push Cillian out of your head, telling yourself that what had happened between you two was a mistake and nothing more, but try as you might, you couldn't forget it.

You couldn't forget the way he had touched you, made love to you, or even just looked at you. You had never felt so desired in your life and although it scared you, it also excited you beyond belief.

It was a push-pull experience that made you yearn for his presence while, at the same time, you wanted things to go back to the way there were before, when you didn't have these feelings of guilt and shame constantly lingering over you when your mother and twin-sister were around.

"So you aren't coming to any of the awards then?" Cliona repeated her previous question with a pout, which mad you realise that, this entire time, when you were thinking about Cillian, she had been talking to you.

"W-what?" you said, snapping out of your daze. "Um, no, I won't be attending any of the awards shows with you guys. It's not for me and I have too much on my plate at the moment," you lied, even though you had no job and not much to do, other than wait for your course to start.

Cliona shrugged. "Suit yourself," she said, as if implying that you were missing out on a great opportunity, before finishing off her slice of pizza and standing up from her chair.

"Well, I'm heading to bed. See you tomorrow," she added, before walking out of the kitchen and leaving you alone in your thoughts.

You sighed and leaned back in your chair, staring out the window just as your phone  beeped, signaling a new text message. 

"You've got the job!" was the message written in big bold letters on the screen from the nice bartender at a local establishment to which a friend had introduced you to the day before. 

Excitement bubbled inside of you, and your troubles seemed to vanish at the sight of the single message. You were absolutely broke , so this opportunity couldn't have come at a better time. You would be able to start working within the next few days, which provided a sense of financial security and a diversion from the drama you had created with Cillian.

Cillian, himself, arrived back home later that week just as you were about to head out for your first shift at the bar.

You were dressed casually in a pair of dark jeans, a fitted grey shirt and your hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail.

"Hey," you greeted Cillian as he walked through the door, looking exhausted but happy to see you, his eyes lighting up as they met yours.

"Hey," he replied, retaining his distance which, in your opinion, made this encounter somewhat awkward.

Luckily for you though, you were an expert in the art of small talk and, even though you hadn't mastered it, your tone sounded light and casual.

"How was your flight?" you asked, as he placed his luggage down and unzipped his jacket.

"Long," Cillian replied with a weary sigh before his eyes met yours again.

The connection was undeniable, burning with a passion that refused to quell. But he had his integrity, and perhaps that was something he would never compromise. Not even for you.

"Where are you off to?"  Cillian inquired, his gaze falling on your outfit while you were fidgeting with the house keys.

"Oh, I've got a job now ," you informed him cheerfully, attempting to keep your tone light while trying to overcome the fluttering feelings in your chest.

"Where at?" Cillian asked, raising an eyebrow, and you wanted to smile at his enthusiasm, but you held back, taking a deep breath instead.

"Just a bar, in town. It's called O'Rielly's and is really nothing special," you lied, trying to downplay the significance of this job, but Cillian could see right through it.

"That's great though," he said with a warm smile, making your heart flutter uncontrollably. "Well done," he told you, knowing how you wanted to pay your own way. 

"Thanks. I really needed this. I was starting to feel like a burden around here," you muttered, not meaning to make the conversation heavy.

Cillian narrowed his gaze upon hearing that, sensing there was something more to your statement.

"You're not a burden, Y/N, and you never have been," he asserted, closing the distance between you, his hands resting on your upper arms reassuringly.

"Oh, I am sure my mother would disagree with you right now," you chuckled, not wanting to tell him about the many fights you had with her in recent days, all because you felt like a leech living in her house. "But listen, I really have to go. My shift starts at six," you said, zipping your jacket closed and slinging your bag over your shoulder.

"Do you want me to drive you?" Cillian offered, breaking through your thoughts.

For a brief moment, you imagined what it would be like to spend a few more minutes alone with him in the car. But you quickly shook off that dangerous thought.

"Thanks, but I can take the bus," you said, smiling weakly. "Despite, you just got off a six-hour flight,"  you added.

Cillian opened his mouth to protest, but you cut him off. "No, really. I've got this," you insisted, already moving towards the door.

Cillian sighed, looking like he wanted to say more, but he seemed to think better of it. "Alright, but call me when you get off work. I will pick you up. You shouldn't take the bus that late," he said, his voice firm.

You paused and looked back at him. "You worry too much,"  you said, but there was a small smile on your faces as you said it since you found his concern heartwarming.

"Only because I care," he replied with a warm smile before he allowed you to leave.

When you arrived at the bar for your shift, you found it bustling with people, eager to escape their daily routine. You took a deep breath to steady your nerves and walked behind the bar, where the manager was waiting for you.

"Ah, Y/N! It's good to see you. Here, put this on," she said, handing you a shirt. "I'll show you the ropes."

The first few hours flew by quickly, with you learning the ins and outs of the bar, how to make drinks, take orders, and keep the customers happy.

The pace was fast but exciting, and you found yourself enjoying the buzz around you, serving drinks, laughing with the patrons and relishing in the anonymity and the freedom that came with working at a separate place of employment.

When things started to slow down, you checked the time on your phone and saw it was already after midnight. There was no way Cillian would still be up, you thought to yourself, as you dried your hands on your apron and walked towards the front of the bar but, just as you were about to bring up the bus schedule again, your phone buzzed with a new message.

"I'm still picking you up," it read, causing your heart to skip a beat.

You smiled to yourself, thankful for his concern and hit 'Reply,' typing out a quick thanks and an estimated time for the end of your shift. You knew that there was still some cleaning up to do, which would take about thirty minutes or more.

You put your phone back into your apron’s pocket and got to work, finishing up as quickly as possible and the friendly bar manager, Jeremy, offered you a drink on the house after you finished lifting up all the chairs.

"You did extremely well today," he praised, touching your shoulder. "And thanks for taking the shift last minute, you really saved me," he smiled, noting that you weren't actually meant to start until the week after. 

"I am glad I could help," you responded before noticing him flirting a little with you.

"I enjoyed working with you tonight Y/N. I am serious," Jeremy added with a wink, making you blush slightly and laugh off his compliment. "And you can have as many shifts as you want," he went on to say, which caught you off-guard, since most places usually put new hires on a light schedule.

"Oh, really?" you asked, trying to hide your surprise. "I mean, that sounds good," you added hastily, before taking another sip of your drink.

"Absolutely. I would love to have you on the team, you are a star already," Jeremy complimented you again, causing your face to flush with heat.

You chuckled nervously and glanced down at your phone, checking the time, and saw a message from Cillian: "I will be there in a minute," it read, making you plan your exit. 

"I, uhm, I gotta go now if that's okay?" you  said shyly, biting your lip as you met Jeremy's gaze. His eyes lingered on your lips for a moment longer than necessary before he looked away, just as Cillian reluctantly pushed open the door to the bar, looking straight at the two of you.

"We are closed," Jeremy announced, trying to sound imposing, but you interrupted him.

"It's okay. He is just...uhm...picking me up," you stammered, shuffling your feet nervously as you broke eye contact with Jeremy. "He won't let me take the bus and now this is all really awkward," you then blurted out, causing Cillian to raise an eyebrow.

"I am Cillian. Y/N's..." Cillian paused before saying the word. "Stepfather," he clarified hesitantly, offering a polite smile and his hand to Jeremy for a handshake. There was a slight tension in the air as Jeremy hesitantly shook Cillian's hand, eyeing him carefully, before finally giving you a nod. 

"Oh, right. Of course," Jeremy said, seeming to understand that there was nothing more to this interaction, which made you feel more at ease. 

"I'll just...uhm...go and get my things from the back then," you muttered nervously before quickly scurrying towards the back room to collect your belongings.

You could feel both Cillian's and Jeremy's eyes on you as you gathered your coat and bag, your heart hammering away in your chest.

You had never been very good at hiding your emotions, and it seemed that both men had picked up on you feeling somewhat out of place right now. 

"Okay, I'm ready," you eventually said, brushing a lock of hair out of your face as you walked back out to the front of the bar and, after Jeremy thanked you for your hard work, you followed Cillian out of the door, your heart still racing.

"You know you really didn't have to stay up for me," you said as Cillian opened the car door for you.

"I know. But I wanted to make sure you got home safely. Besides, I was still up anyway," he replied, his tone serious.

As you sat next to him in his car, you couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious about Jeremy and how he had been looking at you throughout the night and, it was also something that Cillian had picked upon. 

"Everything okay?" Cillian asked, seeming to sense your discomfort.

"Yeah, everything's fine," you lied, forcing a smile.

"I can see the bar manager has already taken a liking in you," Cillian said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

"Yeah, I think, maybe, he has," you confirmed, looking out of the window of the car as Cillian expertly drove through the quiet streets of the city.

"Then again, he works in a bar. I am sure he has taken a liking to many women who have worked there," Cillian replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

You remained silent for a moment, trying to decipher his intent, but you chose not to press further at that moment.

"Are you jealous?"  you blurted out, immediately regretting the words as soon as they left your lips. It was the last thing you wanted to imply, given the circumstances.

Cillian glanced at you and raised an eyebrow, causing you to quickly backtrack.

"I mean, not that you have any reason to be, of course. I am just your stepdaughter after all," you added hastily, your cheeks flushed as you watched Cillian's expression soften.

"No, I'm not jealous," he replied softly. "I am just concerned about you, that's all. I don't want to see you getting hurt."

"Sure, we will leave at that," you nodded, understanding his concern, and looked away, embarrassed that you had even brought it up.

The rest of the car ride was quiet, with neither of you speaking. But, despite the silence, the tension between you two was palpable. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, and your heartbeat quickened as you tried to ignore the thoughts and images that swirled in your mind.

The memories of the connection you shared, the intimacy you both had experienced, and the desire that still lingered, seemed to be clouding your judgement, and you couldn't help but long for that closeness again.

The car pulled up outside the house, and Cillian turned off the engine, allowing the silence to envelop you. He shifted in his seat as he glanced at you, his gaze piercing through the darkness. You could sense that he was trying to read your thoughts, but you couldn't find the words to explain what was going on in your head.

Your mind was a whirlwind of emotions, conflicting desires, and unspoken truths that clashed together, creating turbulence you were struggling to navigate.

"We should go inside and get some rest. It's late," you  said softly, your eyes meeting Cillian's. There was a lingering tension between you both, as if his gaze could combust the emotions resparking within you.

"Yeah," Cillian  replied after a moment, his voice almost a whisper. He let out a long breath before he opened his car door, stepping out on the pavement.

Only after he had fully closed the car door did you realize that you had been holding your breath. It was then that you released it in a sigh, feeling strangely disappointed that the night had ended like this, with awkwardness and silence and no connection between you both, except the remembered one.

You quickly exited his car, feeling embarrassed at how much your feelings for him had control over you at times, now that he was ignoring them too.

"Goodnight, Y/N," Cillian muttered, almost under his breath after you both stepped inside, as if he was too afraid to say it any louder.

You turned to him, your eyes wide with surprised and confusion, before you replied with a hoarse "Goodnight" and walking up the stairs, leaving Cillian to stand alone in the hallway. 

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22

[woso-dreamzzz]

Difficult

Ingrid Engen x Mapi Leon x Child!Reader

Summary: You're acting difficult with your Mamí after the World Cup

Mamí is looking at you.

You look back at her.

Her eye twitches.

You don't move.

"Shoes on," She says firmly.

You throw your shoes clear across the room.

She looks at you.

You look back.

"y/n," She says," Go and pick up your shoes. We're going now."

"Nej!"

"We don't have time for this! Go and get your shoes right now or so help me-"

"Why?"

If there's one thing Mapi hates more than you saying no, it's you asking why.

Stepping into the role of Mamí was something she had expected when she started dating Ingrid. You were little more than a baby when you arrived in Barcelona with your Mumma and you couldn't really remember much of your life without Mapi.

For the most part, you were a little angel and you flipped between your languages with ease but sometimes you get into moods when you don't want to speak Spanish or Catalan and you will pointedly refuse to interact when somebody speaks to you in them.

"y/n," Mapi says again, ready to do something that she hasn't quite thought of yet but Ingrid interrupts, walking over with your shoes in her hands.

She speaks to you in Norwegian, talking quicker than Mapi can translate but you sag in defeat and allow your Mumma to put your shoes on your feet. You wander over to Bagheera, giving her lots of kisses before Mumma helps you put on your special training backpack and you wait by the door.

Mapi frowns as she watches you. "Why won't she listen to me?"

"She's been with me all through the world cup. She's probably just adjusting back into the normal routine. She's been with my national team for a while. Just give her a bit of time to get used to all the Spanish."

Mapi gives you nothing but time. You still remain moody throughout the week until you're absolutely grating on her last nerve.

The day starts like normal. You're cheerful and happy when Ingrid gets you up that morning and eat your toast and eggs with little fuss.

But when Mapi tries to brush your hair, you shriek and whine every time the brush goes through. You snap your teeth at her when she tries to wipe your face - which is suitably horrifying because she and Ingrid were so sure that you had finally outgrown your biting phase.

You make a growling sound at her as well which she isn't sure where you've learnt that from.

Her eyes narrow. "No," She says, her finger coming out to rebuke you," We don't bite."

"I didn't bite," You reply oh so smartly and Mapi doesn't really have a response to that and you take the chance to hurry to Ingrid's side, conning her into picking you up.

Ingrid drives to practice which leaves Mapi to suffer through you repeatedly kicking her chair and denying it.

"y/n," Ingrid finally says," Enough now. Mamí doesn't need her seat kicked."

You stop but glare at the back of her seat.

You snap at her again when she tries to get you out of your car seat.

"y/n!"

Mapi almost swears at you. She doesn't but she's getting seriously concerned that your biting phase is back with a vengeance.

"Nej!" You spit back," Want Mumma! Not want you!"

Mapi's heart breaks in an instant. You've said a lot of things to her before, in the heart of the moment, but never something like this.

"Mumma! Mumma!"

Ingrid sighs deeply as she gets you out of your car seat.

Usually, you walk in between your parents but today (like so many days recently) you refuse to. You stick to Mumma's side and throw dirty looks at your Mamí whenever she tries to catch your eye.

By the time you all get to training, you've brightened significantly but remain frosty to Mapi, clinging to Frido's side before scampering off to see Caro.

●～●～●～●～

Your attitude towards Mapi takes a turn for the worse when she's not with Ingrid.

Currently, you're sitting on your blanket on the pitch, watching everyone train. You've got your usual set up of food and drink and stuffed teddy bear so you're not used to being bothered.

When Mapi does so, you get angry very quickly.

At first, you don't talk to her. At her verbal prodding, you glare and, when she tries to touch you, you strike.

Your baby teeth sink into the flesh of her hand, right between her thumb and first finger.

Mamí swears when you release her, turning away to try to wave the pain out of her hand. "y/n!" She snaps and you make a screeching noise in response.

By this point, the other girls have stopped to watch the confrontation and your Mumma comes running over to you.

"y/n!" She says firmly," We don't bite!"

"I bite!" You yell back. You kick your legs into the ground and snap your jaw again when Mamí reaches out to you a second time.

She recognises it for the bluff that it is though and she picks you up. You try to ragdoll and go limp to get out of her grip but it doesn't work. She walks you further away from the other girls and forces you to sit cross-legged, looking away from the pitch.

"You're going into a timeout," Mumma says, having followed you," Until you can calm down."

"Nej!" You spit back, trying to escape but Mamí puts you back every time.

You hiss and spit at her. "Hate you, Mamí!" You scream in her face," Hate you, Mamí!"

She looks positively heartbroken at your words and Mumma whispers something in her ear. Mamí looks back at you for a moment before she nods sadly and wanders back inside.

Mumma fixes you a hard look. "We don't spit or bite or scream, y/n. And we don't lie and tell Mamí that we hate her either," She says and you ignore her.

Ingrid crouches next to you, a hand on your shoulder that you relax into. "What's going on with you, elskling? What's happened? Come on, tell Mumma?"

"Mamí," You say through gritted teeth.

"Mamí?" Ingrid asks," What happened with Mamí?"

"Was bad!"

"Mamí was bad? How was Mamí bad? Does Mamí know?"

"Mamí knows," You insist," Mamí was mean and made me feel icky so I'm doing the same!"

"Elskling," Ingrid says," Just because Mamí made you feel icky, doesn't mean you should make her feel icky back."

You grunt and turn to look at the boards in front of you. "Don't want to talk anymore, Mumma. Bye-bye."

●～●～●～●～

Mapi's falling into a spiral by the end of the day. She feels like an absolute failure, unsure how to salvage whatever she has left of her relationship with you.

As she's debating just breaking down into tears in the hallway, she notices that the meeting room door is opened a crack.

She spies you sitting on the floor with your blocks. Alexia is sitting with you, cross-legged.

She passes you whatever block you want and pretends to be a big scary monster so you can have something to knock down your towers.

You look content and happy with Alexia and it makes Mapi want to cry all over again, unsure of what could have sparked you to reject her since your return home.

She almost turns away and leaves, phone out to text Ingrid to come and collect you when she hears Alexia speak.

"You got pretty mean to your Mamí today," Alexia says as she plays with your blocks.

You shrug. "Deserved it."

"Oh?" Alexia glances at Mapi, who she's now realised is peaking through the crack in the door. "How come?"

"Didn't come," You reply, turning a block over in your hand.

"She didn't come?"

"When Mumma was at the world cup and we had days off. Mamí didn't come to see us." You sigh a big sigh that's too big for a little girl like you. "Wanted to see her. Missed her but she didn't come."

"Oh," Alexia says," Did you tell her that you missed her and you wanted her to come see you and your Mumma?"

You give your Tia a weird look. "Why? Mamí has magic powers, she tells me so. Mamí says she always knows what I'm thinking because I'm her bebita." You nod firmly. "So Mamí knew that I missed her and wanted her and she still didn't come. Mamí doesn't love me. Mumma says that people who don't love you sometimes make you feel bad on purpose and Mamí did that because she knew I wanted her and she didn't come."

"Oh."

Alexia shoots Mapi a look, who quickly looks away. She had told you that she could read your mind before but that had been a while ago and to scare you into behaving when you went out to the fancy restaurant that she took you and Ingrid to so she could finally talk about you all getting a house together.

Alexia's eyes tell her that it's time to sort this out so Mapi pushes the door open.

"I'm sorry, bebita," She says as she steps inside.

You jolt in shock at her being there but you don't start screaming so she takes this as an invitation to continue. She doesn't want to completely shatter your idea of her having magical powers so she twists the truth only a little.

"Mamí's very sorry she didn't visit you and Mumma," She says first, crouching down so she can look at you instead of down on you," My...My mind-reading powers turned off while you were gone and I didn't turn them back on until you were back, bebita. I'm sorry I didn't realise that you wanted to see me in person."

You look at her with a frown before you nod. "Sorry for biting you, Mamí," You say," And for being mean and for screaming and not speaking my Spanish."

"I accept your apology, bebita," Mapi says," Thank you for apologising. Can I have a hug now? I've missed my y/n hugs?"

You surge up from the floor to hug Mamí tightly. She rocks you back and forth for a moment before pulling away and placing her hands on your cheeks. "And I love you very much and I'll always love you, okay? No matter what."

"I love you too, Mamí. I'm sorry I said that I didn't."

"It's okay, it's okay."

She pulls you in for another hug and keeps you there as she and Tia Alexia talk for a little while before you're carted off to the car.

Mumma is leaning against it, swinging her keys around her finger. She looks up in surprise when she sees you completely relaxed in Mamí's arms.

"How are my girls this afternoon?" Mumma says.

"Me and Mamí are going to play with Bagheera!" You reply brightly," And Mamí says she'll read me my bedtime story!"

You continue to blather on as you're strapped into your car seat.

"All made up then? All happy?" Ingrid teases and Mapi rolls her eyes.

"As long as her biting thing remains a phase," Mapi replies," Then we're golden."

[aurorawhisperz]

Golden retriever!Ethan and Black Cat!reader. Like they go to the mall and Ethan pays her whatever she wants or the reader is on her period and Ethan just takes care of her 🤭 I <3 your fics so much

thank youu AHHHH i love golden retriever x black cat

secret moments (e.l.)

contains: swearing, fluff, mentions of blood, pet names, periods.

ethan landry x fem!reader

a/n: this was kind of short because i rushed 🥲 also based off dress by taylor swift 😋

•

When Ethan wakes up, the other side of the bed is cold, and he reaches out for you. He groggily rubs his eyes and props himself up on one shoulder.

“Why are you all the way over there?” He asks, voice raspy and tired, he moves over for more space, “Climb in with me?” Ethan stares at you sitting on a beanbag. “Come on, I still have all day for hugs, Eth.” You shake your head.

“Please?” He gives you those stupid puppy eyes that got you head over heels for him in the first place. “Tell me what the problem is, I can help you, (NAME).” And everything stopped.

SAY MY NAME AND EVERYTHING JUST STOPS

“It’s embarrassing.” You cover your embarrassed face with your hands, still blushing from the humiliation and now his presence.

“Just tell me, it’s not like I’ll leave you.” He tilts his head and pouts.

..Don’t move, don’t freeze. That’s what you think.

“I’m on my period.” You narrow your eyes at him. His eyebrows raise and his lips part, “Oh!” Ethan then chuckles, but you blink in response. “It’s not that hard to say, babe. Do you need anything?” He pushes himself off the mattress then rubs his hands.

“Whatever you crave, more pillows, water..” He thinks of something to add, “Heat things, pads or tamperings?”

You giggle at his mistake, then correct him. “Tampons.”

Ethan then chuckles and it bears all his teeth, and he asks, “Do you need anything? I’m serious, I can buy some. New shorts?” He searches your face for an answer.

“It’s embarrassing if you’re buying it.” Ethan then walks up to you, kneeling in front of you and takes your hand in his. “Not embarrassing.” He says, then he presses a light kiss to one of your knuckles. “Just tell me what you want, princess.” The light in his eyes makes you blush confusedly—lips parted.

Ethan then leans forward to kiss you and his hypnotizing scent has you kissing him back, he then pulls you closer to him now that you’re chest-to-chest. He moves his bare hand to your waist—and just as you are about to pull away, he gently grabs your cheek and pulls you back—His fingers rub circles on your waist.

YOU KISS MY FACE AND WE’RE BOTH DRUNK

Once he’s sure you’re breathless, he pulls away. It was a kiss that made you want another. You do get a second one—a light one on your forehead. Eyes glued to yours.

You let out a weary sigh, then hand out cash. “Here, buy me some chocolates and a heating pad, that’s all.” Ethan rolls his eyes at it, and your eyebrows furrow at his expression. “Babe, it’s fine, I’ll pay.”

He then laces your fingers with his. He scrunches his nose then says, “I’ll go buy you some of that girl stuff too.” Ethan raises a finger then grabs a gray hoodie, putting it on.

•

Ethan arrives with not one, but two plastic bags—a smile on his face, and dead eyes on yours.

He puts the bags down on the table and grabs a chocolate bar from it, throwing it to you—and you catch it. “Thanks, Eth.” You smile at him, “Anything for you. I wanna see that smile for the rest of my life.” says Ethan.

EVEN IN MY WORST TIMES, YOU COULD SEE THE BEST OF ME.

You raise an eyebrow, “I don’t want you being moody all the time, alright?” He crashes on the bed, then his arms surround you. “Well, being moody is kind of normal during these days.” You shot back.

“When I feel moody, I’m okay once I realize you’re here.” He presses a kiss to the tinted-red tip of your nose.

You take a piece off the bar and feed one to Ethan—He smiles at you. “You look pretty today.” He teases, “I thought you said I was pretty everyday?” You raise an eyebrow. “Nuh-uh, I said you get prettier and prettier everyday.”

“That’s still the same thing.” You chuckle.

Ethan pulls you in for a kiss, his fingers gripping your hips. “Watch the position, I don’t wanna soak through.” You mumble in between kisses, then you run your finger through his dark curls.

NOW I WAKE UP BY YOUR SIDE

“Does that mean we can still make out?” He pulls away and his eyes are once again on you.

You shot him your trademark eye roll, “Duh.” You pull him in for another kiss.

“Next time you need something,” You say against his lips “I’m paying.”, Ethan quickly pulls away and his eyebrows pinch together, “I object to that idea.” He props himself up on his elbow, then tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “We can split it only on dates.”

Your lips curl into a smirk and there were practically hearts in his eyes. “Deal. Now come back here and—” He kisses you with a hint of longing before you get to finish.

Ethan was definitely the one for you, and you were the one for him. (And that’s final.)

[anyarose011]

December Never Felt So Wrong {Angus Tully x Reader}

Summary: You didn't want to go anymore; not after what just happened in your room with Angus. Still, you had to. In the end...well, happy birthday, Jesus; sorry your party was so lame.

Part 6 of ?? (Masterlist)

Warnings: Swearing, in depth discussions of grief, mention of character death.

The song is for you theatre kids; yes, there is a Christmas album of the cast of Hadestown. While I love the original, the one with Reeve Carney and Eva Noblezada hits different. I think this was my favorite one to write so far; especially with the interactions with Mary and Elise. Also, lol, possible interpretation of reader's character having a thing for Elise? Again, it's all up to you, but just wanted to say that. Also, part 3 of not being able to escape being an awkward/moody teenager because it's a fanfiction. Anywho, hope you guys cry, but it'll be worth it :)

Word Count: 6.1k

You dared not look at Angus the whole drive to Miss Crane’s house. Even when getting into the car, you avoided his gaze like Lot did Sodom and Gomorrah. There was no way, after he was more than likely going to kiss you (or you him), could you even acknowledge his existence.

But why did you stop yourself from kissing him?

No matter, as your father drove all of you to Miss Crane’s house, you managed to block out that question which clawed at your mind. The door was unlocked when you four arrived at seven, and you filtered in. The house was still heavily decorated in Christmas paraphernalia like you had seen it days ago when you were with Elise. Yet, with how many people were gathered on just the first floor alone, it almost felt as if you were entering a stranger’s house.

Well…not exactly.

Truth be told, this was neither you nor your father’s first Christmas party with Miss Crane. You went with your mother to only one before she passed, and even though Miss Crane would still hold out invitations for you and your father…neither of you ever went. Elise and her aunt would understand of course, especially in the first years after your mother passed; Christmas is always a complicated time after the death of a loved one.

“You made it!” Miss Crane’s voice of gratitude and her gently clutching your arm broke your thoughts. “Welcome. Oh, I’m so glad you’re here!”

She had looked at Mary once you nodded with a smile, and Mary mirrored her. “We’re happy to be here. Where should I put these?”

Miss Crane lifted the cover of the brownies Mary was holding at and gasped before taking the tray. “Those I’ll be putting on my bedside table.”

Mary laughed. “Oh, you’re a wicked woman!”

“You have no idea.”

“Certainly a lot of people here!”

Leave it to your father for that to be the first thing he says. Still, Miss Crane took it in stride.

“Yeah, yeah, some family, friends from town. Only you guys from work.”

She spent her time pointing out all of her family members (some you remembered, most you had no idea who they were), and you were honestly blanking out. Up until you saw a familiar face.

“Elise!” You cheered as if she was your guardian angel. You hadn’t even noticed Angus wandered off to stare at a snow globe until you saw him visibly flinch upon your exclamation.

Your friend laughed as you embraced her. “Nice to see you too.”

“It’s been forever!”

“It’s been two days.”

The adults around you merely chuckled, and once again, it was Miss Crane who spoke up. “This is Angus Tully, he’s one of our students at Barton. Angus, this is my niece, Elise.”

Neither of you had pulled away from each other during this whole introduction and were merely still wrapped in each other’s arms as if it were normal. Still, it did not escape you how, once Elise and Angus’ eyes met, it was as if you weren’t there.

“Niece Elise.” He nodded, smiling. “Nice.”

And it seemed like he felt the same. So, there you were, between them in a strange physical and emotional sense. Of course, you were selfish, so you couldn’t revel in the discomfort for long.

“You must forgive him.” You said to Elise but loud enough for everyone to hear. “He’s so simple minded, he finds rhymes to be most intriguing.”

She giggled, shaking her head, and Angus rolled his eyes. “Can you go one night without being mean to me?”

“Fitzwilliam,” you smiled, pulling away from Elise. “you’re asking me not to breathe.”

Your father intervened. “Alright you two; no need to fight when we’ve barely gotten through the door.”

Miss Crane tapped his shoulder, looking back at Elise. “This is Mr. Hunham. He’s one of our finest teachers. History, right?”

“Ancient Civilizations.” He said.

It seemed like her words fell on deaf ears to you, Elise, and Angus. The way they were looking at each other…how Elise would glance at everyone only for her eyes to land back on Angus, and how it was the same for him too…

Neither of them ever looked at you though; only at each other.

Miss Crane called your name, and then Elise’s. “Why don’t you take Angus to the basement and introduce him to our family tradition? Do you remember?” She asked you.

You were honestly so discombobulated, you could only huff. “Good lord, it’s been years.”

“Oh hush, you remember.” Elise teased. “Come on.”

She led you and Angus down to the basement, and you both followed. It was almost frightening how much whiplash you’d gotten just from taking one step down the stairs and was immediately met with Holly Jolly Christmas and the smell of glue. Several kids, as young as five and as old as eleven, sat down at the tables you sat at only once, creating what they deemed to be works of art.

“This is what you wanted to show me?” Angus chuckled.

It was normal for someone to laugh at it. Hell, you knew he was laughing with it, but this was the most he had been on your nerves all week (for many reasons you were too bothersome to list).

“I grew up playing down here during my aunt’s parties.” Elsie smiled, tilting her head to you. “She was only here once, but I still think the pieces we’ve made should be hung in the National Gallery, don’t you agree?” She said your name.

You put on a smile. “For sure.”

“I think it’s kind of cool.” She said. “There’s a purity to it. I mean, every child is an artist. The problem is remaining an artist when we grow up. Picasso said that.”

She could study Art History, perfect her French, move to Paris and work as a tour guide in the Louvre. That was a dream she told you she had ever since you were children; but yet there she was, throwing it all away to flirt with a boy she had just met.

One who wasn’t even attractive at that (not the first lie you told yourself that night).

“Picasso’s cool.” Angus immediately said. “I saw Guérnica once. You know, the big mural, with the horse?”

He attempted to pose like the painting you wish you could see, and it was so dreadful you didn’t know which one was worse; that or him and Elise’s incessant talking about the stupid painting at the stupid Museum of Modern Art in stupid New York City. So, to spare yourself, you immediately ducked into a small table of little girls; something you thought you would do only if you were held at knife point.

Still…they were actually sweet, surprisingly. You all would ramble about meaningless things, which perhaps made it all the more meaningful when you would laugh at the stories they told you; whether it was something tame that happened in kindergarten, or what a third grade girl said to you.

“Boys are stupid.”

You nodded. “That they are. Although, I’ve found that a few of them are nice.”

“I said they’re stupid, not mean.”

“Well, they can be. But again,” you reiterated. “they can be sweet.”

“Not like my daddy.” A six-year-old girl spoke up, drawing on her paper plate with a purple crayon shorter than your temper around some men. “Mama says she ‘put him in the doghouse’. Which is weird, we don’t even have a dog, why would we make a house for him?”

You fought every part of yourself to not laugh. So, you merely smiled politely. “That does seem rather unusual.”

“You talk funny.” One of the older girls said.

“So do you.” Was your reply.

“Do not!”

“Do too.”

“Do not!”

You were about to continue the ridiculous chain until you heard Elise laugh. Your head immediately snapped to see how she and Angus were hunched over some paper with their hands completely covered in paint. It was like the aftermath of a car crash; you couldn’t look away no matter how much you knew deep down it would only hurt you to keep watching.

She had that look in her eyes you rarely ever had with boys, and although you were practically on the other side of the room from them, you could cut the tension with a knife if you had one; and proceed to stab yourself like Juliet.

Then, like you knew she would, Elise kissed him.

That’s what made you tear your gaze away, and you took your father’s advice from long ago: once you felt sick, you ran away.

Your chest was constricting by the time you got up the stairs, and you wanted to say it was because of going up them so quickly, but it wasn’t. Hell, it wasn’t fully because of seeing them kiss, it was a little, but there was something else; what, you had no idea.

This was all your own fault anyway; you told her from the start you didn’t like him (you didn’t, what’s made you change?) and that she’d probably like him (they’d be good for each other too; she’s sweet, he’s not, they’d balance each other out).

Taking a deep breath to calm your racing heart, you decided that whatever was weighing on your shoulders, you weren’t going to let it ruin the rest of your night; Angus and Elise be damned. You decided to people watch to soothe our worries and create imaginary stories for each and every person that passed your way; a game you and your mother played whenever you went out.

There was an older man with his wife, both perhaps in their early nineties. They met in Boston by chance, he had grown up there, she was from Wyoming perhaps and wanted to experience a city to the east that wasn’t New York.

A woman just a little older than you sat by herself with a drink in her hand. She told herself and everyone else she’s content with just sitting against the wall, watching the room be full of life, and she genuinely meant it.

Your father…oh! He was talking with Miss Crane, and it seemed to be going well.

So, to give him privacy, you decided to further wander around the house. All seemed well as Christmas carols played throughout the halls, until you reached the kitchen.

There, hunched over in the corner with her shoes off, was Mary Lamb, trembling. You felt your soul leave your body, and your eyes met Danny (you hadn’t even known he was there until you saw him move towards you).

“I…” He began. “Do you want to try to talk to her?”

All you could do was nod, approaching her. “Mary?”

She shook her head, not saying a word. You stood beside her and saw as tears cascaded down her cheeks. Your breath shuttered with hers; you already knew. Even without her having to tell you, you already knew.

“Do…do you want me to get my dad?” You asked meekly.

Mary didn’t say anything. You just looked at Danny and nodded. Turning on your heel, your chest wasn’t constricting, but you felt like there was something rotten within your stomach. Something so rotten only a parasite would find it delicious and decide to eat every part of you.

Which is of course when you would quite literally bump into Angus Tully coming back up from the basement.

“Hey,” he greeted with the biggest smile on his face. “thought you got lost, where-?” Just as he saw your fallen face, his did as well. “Are you okay?”

You swallowed thickly, feeling tears spring into your eyes. “Where’s my dad?”

“What happened?” He softened his voice and it only made you want to tear him apart.

Shaking your head, you asked again. “Where is he? I…”

He said your name, repeating his question. “What happened?”

Taking a deep breath, you only said. “Mary…”

Angus nodded, not needing anything else. “I’ll go find him.”

You turned back to the kitchen, waiting with bated breath and arms crossed. Your father and Angus came in soon after, seeing Mary the exact same way you saw her over the kitchen counter.

“Mary?” Your father asked gently. “Mary, are you all right?”

“Just leave me alone.” She grumbled.

Danny placed a hand on her back. “Want me to take you home?”

“Back off!” She hissed, turning around. “Back off.”

Your father shut the door as she cried, and you felt shame that you couldn’t even pick your gaze up from the floor while it all happened.

“He’s gone.” She sobbed, and that was all it took for everyone to decide to go home.

Your throat was clogged with emotion the whole time, and you felt bad for asking to say goodbye to Elise as Mary clung to your father and Angus.

“Just make it quick.” Your dad said, and you didn’t even take time to nod, sprinting back to the basement.

It was as if nothing changed, and she smiled up at you once you came down the stairs.

“So?” Her face was all aglow as if you had something good to tell her.

“I…” you swallowed. “We have to go.”

“What?”

“Mary uh, her son…well…” Why couldn’t you just say it?!

Elise nodded. “Oh…I’m sorry.”

“No, no,” you shook your head. “I’m just sorry we have to go; I was having fun.”

She tilted her head to the side, her gentle smile being a dead giveaway, she knew you were lying. But, to not bring that up, you tried another tactic.

“So…Angus.”

Elise shook her head, laughing. “He’s nice and smart too; I can see why you’re friends with him.”

You cringed. “I wouldn’t really say that.”

She said your name, a little more serious. “I know something’s bothering you. I don’t know if it’s with Mary or Angus, but please just tell me.”

It was a lot of things; not being able to go to Copenhagen, Teddy Kountze and Jason Smith being sorry excuses for men, the damn letters, Angus Tully telling your father about the damn letters, Angus Tully in general, the stupid Christmas party and…and…

“I’m…I’m glad you like him.”

No, it wasn’t that but that’s all your mouth could form.

She nodded. “I do, but now after meeting him in person,” she shrugged. “just a friend. Not even really, I barely know him. I don’t know why you’d think he’d be my type.”

“You kissed him.”

“Yeah?”

“What do you mean ‘yeah’?!” You cried. “Don’t lie to me and say you didn’t even have the tiniest crush on him.”

“Like how you’re lying to me right now?”

That was uncalled for (in your mind at the time, in actuality, yeah it was called for). “What?”

“I asked you what’s bothering you, but you’re not telling me.” She looked annoyed now, and that was worse than if she was fuming. “Look, unless you like killed someone, it can’t be that bad.”

Swallowing thickly, you took a few moments to try your best to recover yourself. Saying hesitantly. “I…I think I’m being stupid.”

“That’s impossible.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Why are you stupid?”

“I don’t want you to leave me for some dumb boy.”

She stared at you, and you were surprised how quickly she responded despite the astonished look on her face. “First of all, not going to happen-.”

“-You say that now.”

“Let me finish, please. Second of all, you’re not stupid because of that; not for anything, mind you.”

Taking a deep breath, you shook your head and leaned against the wall of the basement, Judy Garland singing Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas in your ears. “I don’t know why I’m making a big deal about it.”

“It’s normal.” She leaned with you. “Half of my friend group back home ditched me to spend more time with their boyfriends. What’s funny is that some of them have a new one every month.”

“It shouldn’t be normal.”

“It shouldn’t,” She shook her head. “and for the record, I meant it’s normal to freak out about it. I want you to know thought that I won’t do that, and you better not either.”

“Never.” You chuckled. “Besides, a boy has to like me first for that to happen.”

Elise grinned as if she was the Chesire Cat from Alice in Wonderland

“What?” You gave her a look.

“I think you should talk to him.”

You already knew who he was, but your heart still stopped. “I…I…him?! Which him?”

 “Just talk to him.”

You stood absolutely still…What the flying fuck were you supposed to do with that information?! Before you could utter another word, Elise hugged you tightly. “Merry Christmas,” she said your name so sweetly before pulling away but still holding you at arm’s length. “if you need anything, just come over; I’ll be here until after News Years.”

All you could do was nod, wishing her a ‘Merry Christmas’ and then having her walk with you up the stairs and out the door. Everyone was waiting for you in the car, and you somberly entered the other side in the back.

“Are you okay, baby?” Mary, to your surprise, was the one to ask.

“Uh huh.” Was your immediate response, nodding.

The rest of the car ride back to Barton was silent, and it began to snow.

It was the second time (two too many) you lied to Mary that winter break; you weren’t fine. You laid awake deep into the night despite the fact you couldn’t hear your father snoring anymore. You not being able to sleep only caused you more stress, which caused you not to sleep.

After tossing and turning for perhaps almost an hour, one thought made you sit up in bed.

You forgot to lay out Christmas cookies and milk.

You also forgot to make the Christmas cookies.

So, not having anything else better to do, you slipped on your shoes, stole your father’s flashlight, and snuck down into the kitchen.

You only needed the flashlight in the darkened halls, because to your surprise, the kitchen was completely illuminated. If that wasn’t enough, you saw Mary sitting at the main counter, smoking a cigarette. You stopped in the doorway, almost hiding behind the corner like you were a little girl again when you first met her.

She glanced at you, not that surprised. “What’re you doing up?”

You pursed your lips. “I wanna make Christmas cookies.”

It was stupid. Even if Santa existed, he wouldn’t bother with a stupid school, so why keep putting out cookies and milk only for you or your father to always be the one eating them and making a joke out of it Christmas morning?

Because why not?

“Okay if I help?” She asked.

A hint of a smile spread upon your lips. “If you don’t mind.”

You and Mary could tie your own aprons, but whenever you cooked together, you liked tying each other’s. You didn’t argue as she told you what ingredients to grab, and soon, after mixing together the wet and dry ingredients, then rolling the dough out, you were placing down several upon several different cookie cutters.

It all seemed well, working with only limited amount of talking but still smiling, and then, the thought that loomed in the back of your mind came forward.

“You alright?” You looked up at her and nodded without saying anything. She sighed, saying your name. “I know you’re not; and I know you weren’t after talking to miss Elise. Now, what is it?”

“Tell her.” your thoughts urged over and over again.

“I…” You sucked in a breath. “Can I ask you something? And you can tell me to fuck off if it’s-.”

“-Hey,” she interrupted. “baby Jesus is being born in half an hour, don’t use that kind of language; but yes, what is it?”

You surprised yourself by laughing briefly, then asking. “What was he like? Like…before I met him?”

Mary looked up, and for a moment you thought she was going to break down again, but she shook her head, returning back to cutting the cookies and placing them on the baking sheet. “Not much different from when you were nine and he was ten.”

“He always teased me for being two years older than me until he realized my birthday was before his,” you smiled. “then he wasn’t so old for a while.”

She nodded. “I think that was the only thing he was competitive at.”

“What was the first thing he wanted to be when he grew up?”

“Fireman.” She answered without having to think.

You grinned. “And what’d you think of that?”

“I knew he’d grow out of it.”

“And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“What was little Mary like?”

She huffed, a jesting smile on her face and that was enough for you. “Young, in love, could be freer than a bird one moment, and then quiet with her nose in her Bible the next.”

“How’d you meet Curtis’ dad?”

“School,” she peeled the last residue cookie dough off the cookies. “we were in choir together.”

“Wait a minute,” You giggled, picking up one of the sheets of cookies. “you never said you were in choir!”

She took the other one, and you both walked to the preheated oven, and she opened it. “I thought that was obvious when I took you and Curtis to church?”

“We were too busy plugging our little ears.”

“Hey!” She scolded after sliding in her sheet.

“Because of Old Lady Washington!”

“I understand if her singing was like a dying cat, but she was a good woman, God rest her soul. So, you say a prayer for her right now, you nasty, rotten creature.”

Sighing heavily, you take one hand off the tray you were holding to make the sign of the cross, and mouth a prayer.

“That’s better.” Mary nodded. “You want me to put the cookies in for you?”

“I’m a big girl.” You stated proudly, but as you bent down to slide the baking sheet into the oven, you hesitated, feeling the heat already burn your fingers.

You gave it to Mary yet felt no shame doing so.

“You wanna frost them?” She asked, and you both sat down at the table, waiting for them to bake.

“No.” You shook your head. “Too tired.”

“Thank you.” Mary said. “It’s…it’s good to talk about Curtis. I think I miss you both being little the most; don’t tell your dad I said that.”

Chuckling, a memory came to mind; one you thought you would take to your grave but…perhaps it was a good time to share it.

“You know…” you trailed off, a hint of sudden uneasy but joy lacing your insides. “Shit, I’ve never told anyone this before. But…he and I were each other’s first kiss.”

“Oh, I’ve known that.” Mary answered nonchalantly. “It was the first thing he told me when he got home that night.”

“Are you kidding me?!” You laughed.

“Hey,” She said playfully. “keep it down; the men need their beauty sleep.”

Shaking your head, you couldn’t help your giggling. “I mean, fuck, it meant nothing; we weren’t even teenagers, we just watched it in movies, saw my mom and dad do it like once, so of course we were curious. No, no, you wanna know the best part?” Sudden laughter filled your lungs, and you could barely make a coherent sentence. “I-I had a crush on him from thirteen to fifteen, and he had a crush on me when he was ten until he was, God I don’t actually remember. He enlists months ago, not even a full year, and before he goes that’s when he tells me had liked when we were kids. It-It meant nothing, he just wanted to let me know and-!”

Mary’s hand on yours never grounded you faster. Your whole world stopped, and when you looked at her, seeing her eyes that were both concerned, but not at all shocked, your heart did as well. You dropped your head in shame.

“I’m sorry.”

“Never be.” She squeezed your hand.

“I…” you suddenly lost your voice for a second. “I think I…I think I miss him.”

What a stupid way to say it. Of course you did, you had been ever since your father woke you up in the early morning to let you know. Still…what you knew the whole night, what the most bothersome thing that had been festering within you was:

“He’s really gone.”

“Me too.” She said softly, pulling you into a hug.

You couldn’t cry. You wanted to, God, you wanted to. You teared up this time around, but somehow, despite realizing everything all at once…no cathartic outburst, no weeping and screaming without a care in the world…

Just you and Mary Lamb, holding each other for only God knows how long.

“Oh,” Mary’s voice took you out of the peacefulness, and turned to see what she was looking at. “another one.”

 There, in a white shirt and plaid pajama pants, was Angus Tully; hiding behind the corner just as you did.

“I’m surprised you managed to make your way through the school without bumping into anything.” Mary stole the comment you would’ve made if you weren’t frozen already.

Angus leaned against the wall, crossing his arms and smiling. “I’m surprised neither of you heard it. What’re you doing up so late?”

He was looking at you when he asked, and you wanted to take the butter knife off the counter and gouge out his eyes to get him to stop.

Instead, all you said was. “Christmas cookies.”

“Nice.” He nodded, and the kitchen was left in a silence colder than the air outside.

Mary looked in between the both of you, before pursing her lips and untying her apron. “Well, I’m off to bed.”

“But-.” You began.

“-Angus, you’ll help take the cookies out of the oven, won’t you?” She asked him. “Little Jane Bennett’s always been scared of getting burnt.”

“Mary.” You warned, both about exposing your irrational fear, and also leaving you alone.

He nodded, grinning from ear to ear, and you wanted to throw him out an open window. “For sure.”

“Alright,” she sighed in relief, then walking past him to her room. “Merry Christmas you two, and don’t stay up too late.”

“No promises.” Angus joked, turning his head. When he looked back at you, you stood a little taller as if trying to compete with his height. He stuck his hands in his pockets. “Hey, I actually wanted to tell you-

“-Would you like some hot chocolate?” You sputtered out.

He blinked, taking in your question. “Yeah…yeah that sounds great. I don’t know where they keep the packets-.”

“-No, I’ll make you what my mom made me.”

…Was this your way of telling him you liked him? It could be worse; you could’ve said: ‘You’re so pretty, I want to throw a rock at you.’

Still, he smiled. “Alright then, what do we need?”

Technically, high quality chocolate, but you were at Barton; which would spend its funds on fancy buildings and overpriced textbooks, but not chocolate, which was complete bullshit.

So, the two of you stood over the stove, milk in a saucepan, a small tub of vanilla, salt, half a bag of M&Ms (courtesy of Angus Tully’s payment for waking you up the week before), whipped cream, and a full jar of milk chocolate chips.

“Why are we putting salt into hot chocolate?” He asked as you stirred the milk.

“It enhances the taste, besides, it’s just a pinch. Okay, pour in the chocolate.”

“All of it?”

“No, just…you know, my mom eyeballed it, so just don’t do all of it.”

He nodded, and you moved aside as he poured in half of the jar. You stirred it in as it quickly melted, then poured what you guessed to be a tablespoon of vanilla in. Your stirring was hypnotizing, so of course you zoned out, and didn’t even realize it until Angus brushed your bare arm.

You jumped, gaze immediately snapping to him. “What?”

He gave you a look; not one of annoyance like you expected. Well, there was a hint of that, but you quickly found out it was to mask concern. “I asked you what you thought of the party before Mary.”

“Oh…” you blinked. “Yeah, it was nice.”

Angus nodded. “You ran off at one point, what happened?”

“Bathroom; girl stuff.” You hoped that was enough to throw him off your trail, which it was.

He visibly tensed. “Oh…”

“Yeah.” you dropped your gaze back to the hot chocolate.

The only sound was the whisk hitting the saucepan as you stirred, then pulled it out to let it sit.

“So uh, is that why you’ve been acting weird this whole day?”

You slammed the whisk on the counter. “How fucking dare you!”

He flinched. “What?!”

“Is pissing blood the only good reason why I’d be like this?”

“Well, if I was, I’d be a bit impatient too.”

“You-,” you laughed, exasperated. “you’re a piece of shit.”

He clenched his jaw. “So then why are you upset?”

Avoiding his gaze, you mustered up the only other truth you could tell him. “I can’t find one of my books.”

Angus scoffed. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously!” You gritted your teeth. “My dad read it to me all the time as a kid, and I couldn’t find it when packing last week, so I’ve just been-.”

“-Bullshit, it can’t be that good of a book.”

 “Fuck you, it’s The Little Prince!”

“Look,” He hardened his tone. “I’m not buying it. And if it’s not you being a girl that apparently makes you hate me so much today, or really any day of the week, than what is it?”

The egg timer went off with a loud ringing. You quickly shut it off, having to stop yourself from slamming it back on the counter. You took the oven mitts and opened the oven, reaching in for one of the baking sheets.

After placing down that one, you turned to get the other only to see that Angus, with a washcloth in his hand, held the other. He placed the sheet down by yours.

Throwing the oven mitts off, you sighed heavily, rubbing your temples. Once you found an ounce of calmness, you said. “I know you told my dad.”

You didn’t even say what he told him, he already knew. His face fell, and it was the first time you wished it didn’t. You wished he denied it, got angry at you, hell, blame you for it somehow like so many other boys could have.

But he didn’t…he was ashamed.

Angus tucked his hands into his pockets, avoiding your gaze. “I…I was worried about you.”

Your heart stammered. “Why?”

“It…” he was confused. “What do you mean ‘why’? Some guy who your family isn’t friends with anymore was telling you to take pictures of yourself-.”

“-That’s none of your business.”

“It was for a while; not now, but that’s why I told your dad.”

You swallowed thickly, the emotion of the party, missing Curtis, and now threatening to fully break you. You shook your head. “I’m not angry at you; I’m…sorry I treated you weirdly, but…I don’t know.”

He took a deep breath. “I get it.”

You were both left in silence once again. You took a spoon out of one of the drawers, preparing yourself to taste test it. Then, to fill the empty air, you asked the only thing on your mind.

“So…Elise.”

He looked at you, then down at the counter. “What about her?”

“She’s sweet.”

“Yeah…yeah, she’s nice.”

“So,” you dragged out the ‘O’, almost having fun with teasing him about a girl as if you didn’t know how he felt about you. “do you like her?”

He furrowed his brow. “What, like, like like her?”

Giggling, you said. “Well yeah, you immature asshole.”

“I’m not immature.” He fired back, trying to hide his smile.

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

“And for the record, no, I don’t like her like that.”

You nodded. “Not even when she kissed you?”

His lips thinned into a line, and you never saw a man look more uncomfortable from your own doing (besides when you alluded to him not being able to pleasure a woman only yesterday when he dislocated his arm). “Yeah, even when she kissed me.”

You smiled even though you felt strange. You took the spoon and dipped it into the hot chocolate. “Was that your first?”

“Yep.”

“I don’t know what’s the matter with you.” You teased, bringing the spoon up to your lips. “You closed your eyes, and when you opened them, you realized a pretty girl kissed you.”

“What if I wished it was you?”

You brought the spoon away from your lips instantly; both from how hot it was, and from what he had just admitted.

Immediately, he realized what he said, and stumbled over his words. “I-I uh, shit I didn’t-.”

“-Hot.” You interrupted, your mouth burning. “Yeah, yeah, it’s hot.”

“Oh.” He jumped back. “Uh, do you need water or-?”

“-No, no, I’m fine.” An idea (a horrid and dreadful one) came to mind when you turned off the stove and took the sauce pan off the burner. “Um…do you want to taste it?”

Angus nodded, wanting to do anything but acknowledge what just happened. “Yeah, yeah sure.”

He turned to grab a spare spoon off the counter behind him, but you took his face into your hands and brought your lips to his.

There was a delay in his reaction, but soon, his arms wrapped around you, and he pulled you in impossibly closer. Even if it technically wasn’t either of your first kiss, you acted as if it was; well…perhaps it actually was, at least a real one. It was sloppy, there wasn’t a rhythm (you didn’t even know you needed one to properly kiss apparently), and you were torn between keeping your hands on his face or trailing them through his hair.

Which is why you pulled away as soon as you felt it started. Angus, still with his eyes closed, leaned back into you at the loss, but soon snapped out of it once you backed away, catching your breath.

“Are…” he was catching his too. “are you okay?”

“What?” You asked, almost out of it. “Yeah just, needed to breathe.”

“Yeah-yeah, me too.”

It should’ve been uncomfortable; the most uncomfortable you’ve felt the whole night…but then, after you both could breathe normally, and looked at each other, you started laughing.

“How-how was it?” He asked in between snickers.

Your face hurt from smiling. “My lips are burning.”

“Really?”

“I mean, from the hot chocolate but-.”

“-You’re mean.” He shoved you playfully.

You scoffed. “And you’re just a baby. So, how’d it taste?”

His teasing halted. “…What?”

“The hot chocolate.” You asked innocently. “Did it taste good?”

Still being thrown through a loop, he took a longer time to respond before quite literally shaking himself out of it. “Uh, yeah-yeah. I uh-don’t add anything, it’s good.”

“Nice. Hand me some mugs, top shelf to the right.”

He followed without complaint, and you served up the hot chocolate, then drowning both of them in whipped cream before crushing up the M&Ms and sprinkling them on top.

The cookies were cooled by then, so you shared them as well while drinking your hot chocolate. Just as you spoke with the little girls at your table, you spoke about things that, to anyone else, would be meaningless; stories from childhood, school, books, the list went on. Still, for the first time in many days…it felt like there was no tension of any kind between you.

When all was said and done, you cleaned your dishes, then set out cookies and milk.

“For Santa?” He asked.

“Who else?” You questioned.

And this was when you knew Angus Tully was a good person. Despite the opening for overbearing teasing, and how you wouldn’t have minded it at all, he didn’t do anything of the sort. He simply smiled.

The two of you walked hand in hand back to the infirmary, taking extra care to be quiet. When you were in the doorway of your room, you turned to Angus.

“Merry Christmas.” You grinned, feeling your heart do somersaults the way he looked at you.

“Merry Christmas.” He said back, smiling as he cupped your face and kissed your cheek so tenderly.

Your face could’ve lit up the room once he pulled away you were smiling so much. You both uttered another ‘goodnight’ to each other and made your way to your beds.

You didn’t sleep much that night, but instead of it being from grief, it was from excitement. Excitement of finally letting something good happen to you.

[magics-neptunes-things]

Fire and Ice 2

Hi guys!

Here is the part 2 of Fire and Ice, I try to pick a suggestion an anon made yesterday so I hope it will be fun to read :)

And it’s actually much longer than I imagined at first.

Keep telling me what you think about my writing, I love to read you.

Enjoy!

PART 1 ______________________________________________________________

The next time you saw Leah was two days after your kiss. She was kind of moody, all the team was supposed to take the team picture and the weather wasn't really nice.

Even if you didn’t stop thinking about this kiss, you didn’t try to talk to her. Or at least you didn't do anything else than creep every picture on her Instagram or the firsts videos of her TikTok. And the more you find yourself watching these videos, the more you fall in love with Leah. The way you felt during this kiss is always present and you just have to think about it to feel them again. It never happened to you before and you don't know what to do about it.

Arriving the last ones with Alessia, with whom you make the trips to the stadium, you don't have the courage to go and greet everyone. You just smile and wave, but your gaze lingers for a few more seconds on Leah. With her umbrella, she seems to complain to a Lia who have an amused look on her side.

After this day you didn't really have the opportunity to see her. However, what you don't know is that she sometimes observes you from the physio center where she continues to follow her exercises to return to the field with you. Despite the tinted windows, she sometimes has the impression that you feel her gaze on her given the way you turn in her direction.

**************

The next time you really have the opportunity to see her, it's for the next team evening. This time it was organized by Lia and you gladly accept when she ask you to come over. You managed to sit on the sofa with direct look to the kitchen where Leah is, in the middle of a discussion with two or three other teammates, allowing you to look at her without it being too obvious. This will not stop you from getting caught by Leah herself watching her, several times. But each time you just smile at her before looking away, without even taking the time to check that she gives it back to you.

Pizza were eaten and the first film finished when Beth and Katie approach you with a big smile, sitting each on either side of you. You were talking with Frida about Norway, you missed your country a little bit, but your conversation was quickly stopped. From the corner of your eye, you notice that Leah sits down more straight on the other sofa, a look of frustration on her face.

"So!" Katie begin as you raise an eyebrow at here "We made you a Tinder account."

"You what?"

To be honest, you really thought they’d forgotten about you meeting someone. The subject hadn't been discussed since and you didn't even think to tell Frida about it, the kisses you exchanged with Leah making you forget what else had happened during this evening.

"What’s all this about?" Frida asked with a deep frown, taking her role of big sister a little too much at heart.

"Well, Y/N is single, young, cute and really hot. She need to find someone to take care of her and give her the love she deserved" Beth answers, like it was the most logical thing ever.

You whispers something about the love of god on your mother language, hiding your face behind your hand.

"Told you it was stupid of you" Leah mumble from her couch.

You look at her between your fingers, but you are quickly interrupted by Beth who removes your hand from your face to show you her phone screen.

"Look!" she says happily while you take it in your hand.

Tinder was open on your profile and you look at what they might have written or said about you.

"Where did you find this picture?" you asked, as it was one you take from your last summer holiday.

"Google, i think. Dunno" Katie shrugs.

"I'm single and ready to mingle. Really?"

Beth and Katie both laughs as you roll your eyes, giving Beth's phone back. You’re trying to take this lightly, even if you must admit that it makes you a little uncomfortable. If the information that a profile in your name is on a application like this comes to your parents, you’re not sure you can handle their questions. Frida, on the other hand, seems rather suspicious and a glance at Leah informs you that she's still looking at the scene with a gloomy face.

"And it's not finish! We already managed to arrange two dates for you. We didn't know which kind of girl you like, so we take a brunette and a blonde. You just have to cancel the one you don't like."

You remain completely amazed this time, simply not knowing what to answer. It was Leah who did it for you, getting up from the couch, too angry to stay on the couch.

"This is some bullshit, making up a date from Tinder? What are you looking to? Get her murdered to get her place on the team?"

"She's right" Frida add, frowning. "I don't want to find her in the news, other than for her athletic talents."

"You both are overreacting. She will be safe" Katie shrugs.

"Blond or brunette?" Beth asks you, ignoring the others.

Your gaze flies away for a split second towards Leah, before you respond in a whisper that you prefer blondes.

**************

A few days later, you find yourself at the date that you haven't planned at all, clearly not totally comfortable with the girl that your teammates have selected for you. She realized very fast that the way you talk isn't the same that it was on the application, so you confessed the truth. It didn’t seem to bother her, but rather to amuse her. After your meal at the restaurant, she offered to continue the evening in a bar a little further down the street and you agreed. You can’t deny people things.

You’re having a hard time concentrating on what she’s telling you, stupidly excited about something else. One little thing, too. But Leah did a post last night on your last game and in her photo drop she posted one of you accompanied by a goat emoji and a crown. And it gives you far too much pleasure for it to be innocent. But again, Emma, who seems to be particularly the kind to forgive people, doesn’t seem to pay much attention to it.

Speaking of attention, you haven't shown much either since you didn't realize that the woman who has been haunting your thoughts for almost three weeks is actually a few meters from you.

Leah managed to snatch the name of the restaurant you were supposed to meet Emma from Beth and simply decided to take you as a fillature. Officially to watch over you and make sure nothing happens to you. Unofficially because she’s mad as hell just thinking about the stupid idea of her two friends. Like you need a Tinder date to meet someone.

As she watches you talking to that damn blonde, she tries to determine the real reasons why she came here. Because the truth is, she hasn’t stopped thinking about your kiss either. And it annoys her like crazy, but after trying to ignore you for almost two weeks, these idiots of Beth and Katie decided to throw you in the arms of the first person coming.

And even though she’s consumed with jealousy to see you so comfortable with Emma, unlike what you’ve never been with her, Leah can’t help but feel satisfied seeing you get lost in your thoughts sometimes as Emma talks. Emma can certainly not realize it since she doesn't know you, but Leah has been watching you for two weeks and can now determine the different expressions of your face.

She followed you to the bar discreetly, there also satisfied to see the physical distance that you put between you two while you were walking. She saw the way Emma tried to grab your arm to walk and the skillful way you went away, while remaining polite. It reassured her a little, too, proving that despite your shyness you can say no.

The bar you chose doesn’t have a very good reputation (something you don't know) and Leah is happy to have followed you, just in case. The crowd being denser than in the restaurant, she sometimes loses sight of you from her table while you are installed in the bar with Emma. She isn't disturbed on her side, her icy look sufficient to keep away any human being having a little common sense.

**************

The discussion with Emma is rather light, but not transcendent either. She seems rather kind and it makes you a little sad not to be able to give her the attention she probably deserves. But you can’t help but think about Leah and it makes you half crazy. While you and Emma were walking down the street, you were wondering, for example, where would Leah have preferred to take you after the restaurant instead of listening to Emma talk about her work.

"I'm going to the bathroom" you say right after you order your second drink.

On your way to the toilet, you take the opportunity to take a look at your phone and send a message to Frida and Alessia to inform them that you are still alive. And you end up on Leah’s Instagram page, pouting when you see she doesn’t post anything. When you return, you inform Emma that after you finish your drink you will go home. You’re getting tired and the heat at the bar doesn’t help you feel better.

She takes it with a smile, not even asking if you will be able to see each other again next time. It makes you hope a little that she realized that you didn’t necessarily have sparks between both of you. Perhaps she could become a friend, but certainly not a love interest.

"Are you all right?" Emma asks you frowning a few minutes later.

With your eyes closed, you shake your head negatively, using all your strength of mind not to fall off your stool. Your head turns atrociously and you have the impression that the food you ingested a few hours earlier is just waiting to come out.

"Bathroom" is the only word you managed to say.

You try to get up, but it’s only Emma’s hand catching your arm that keeps you from falling. It's no longer your head that turns, but the whole room while the sounds of conversations or atmosphere of the bar reach you as if you had your head under the water.

"Come with me, I'll help you ok?" Emma tells you nicely by helping you to the bathroom.

As you reach the door, a voice intervenes and you must focus to understand what it says.

"Let her go. Now."

"Who are you?"

The unknown voice doesn't respond, but you feel much more toned and assertive arms seize your waist, rather delicately though. A fresh, pleasant hand lands on your forehead and only then that you recognize the smell of Leah’s perfume. The white fear that gripped her voice prevented you from recognizing her.

Hardly opening your eyes, blinded by the light of the toilet, you only see two babyblue eyes before sinking definitively.

**************

When you regain consciousness, despite your closed eyes, it only takes you a few seconds to remember what just happened. Opening your eyes abruptly, you suddenly sit in the bed in which you are. You’ve read too many stories that end badly because of drugs ingested without consent.

"Wow, slow down cowboy"

Leah get up from the chair next to you, lightly pushing your elbow to make you lie down again.

"Leah? What are you doing here? Wha- What happened to me?"

"It's ok sweatheart. You're safe. Breath, ok?"

Leah doesn't answer your question but the pet name she gave you make you forget this point. The softness of the tone she just used and her hand that delicately releases your hair from your face causes you like electric mini-currents throughout all your body. Is it normal to react like that to such a banal gesture?

But the black hole in your memory continues to torment you, you need to know.

"Do you know what happened to me?" you ask quietly, raising your eyes on her.

Leah bites her lips and you imagine already the worst, but she doesn't let the suspense remain too long.

"They think someone put something in your glass. Your girlfriend swore it wasn’t her, so they’ll look for who it might be. Even if you decide not to press charges the bar did so then they will look anyway. But no one touch you, I promise."

"She's not my girlfriend" you mumble, sinking yourself in the pillow.

"Whatever" Leah grumble, pulling the chair next to your bed to be near you.

"What are you doing here Leah?" you ask again, looking at her.

"Do you want me to leave?"

Of course not. You’ve never been alone with her in a room so long and you’re secretly thrilled that she’s here to take care of you. You’re worried about her leaving.

"No"

A few seconds of silence passed after your answer, to which Leah replied only with a nod, before returning to speak.

"I followed you"

You did not expect this answer and your head turns so sharply in her direction that Leah doesn't have time to hide her slight red cheeks.

"Why?"

"I'm your captain. I’m supposed to look after you."

You nod, a little disappointed with this answer. Your eyes continue to scan Leah’s face, who always seems to refuse to look at you. After a few seconds of hesitation, you gently place your hand on hers. You notice with relief that she doesn't remove it, despite her look on your hands.

"It's weird"

"What?" you ask, frowning.

Her eyes plunge into yours and you find yourself breathless in front of so much intensity.

"The way you make me feel"

You feel your heart miss a beat, before it start beating way too fast. You swallow your saliva but suddenly find yourself unable to say a word.

"Don't tell me you didn't feel anything when we kissed Y/N. I can't stop to think about it. I can't stop looking at you even if I don't want to because that's fucking scare me. I never fell this way before, even though I didn’t kiss almost two hundred people like Beth implied the other night. I mean, of course I noticed you because like Katie said, it’s hard not to. But we never really talked, and now I’m just thinking about you all the time. It doesn’t fucking make sense."

You're stunned, one more time. But Leah has been honest with you and you owe her the truth, too.

"You impressed me. That’s why I never really came to talk to you. I was afraid you might think I was stupid or immature."

"You used the past. Does that mean you don’t think I’m impressive anymore?" Leah asks you with a smirk.

Despite everything you can't help but smile slightly.

"No. I feel it even stronger, because you’re not the only one who has those kisses in mind all the time. I didn’t know you felt the same way."

Your heart keeps beating fast and you are relieved not to have a heart rate displayed on a machine, nothing would have been more embarrassing than that.

Leah’s gaze scans your face and you take the opportunity to do the same, admiring her features more openly than ever.

"Would it be inappropriate to kiss you now?"

Smiling softly, you respond negatively with a nod. You didn’t think your heart could pick up its pace again when you realized that Leah is approaching your face. Very slowly, allowing you to largely anticipate what will happen.

A breath escapes from your mouth when her lips ghost yours.

"Stay still" she whispers.

And you need all your strength of concentration to lie down and not break the last millimeters between your lips. But eventually it happens, Leah’s lips gently settling on yours. With the tip of your thumb, you caress her cheek for the few seconds that the kiss lasts.

It may have been a simple kiss and not a session of long making out, but the fireworks are back. You find yourself immersed in the blue of Leah’s eyes when you open yours again, shining with the same light you saw when you were at her home.

"I want more" you whispers and she smiles.

Delicately, you draw her with you on your bed and she willingly lets herself be guided.

You’re the one who initiates the next kiss, now that you know you have the right to do it. The sensations you find on her lips make you feel like you can breathe completely again. You spend a few moments rediscovering her lips, before sliding the tip of your tongue on her lower lip. You take advantage of Leah’s moan to slide your tongue into her mouth, starting a playful battle to determine which of the two will win.

When you separate from her to catch your breath, you feel her chasing your lips for a new kiss that you cannot refuse her. The truth is you don’t want this moment to end. But this eventually happens when a nurse enters the room right after knocking. Leah detaches herself from you to cast a bad look at the professional who blushes like a tomato.

"Oh… I’m sorry. I didn’t know…" she stammers and you have to bite your lips not to burst out laughing.

"What do you need?" asked Leah coldly.

"I just came to check that everything was fine"

"I’m fine, thank you" you answer with a smile, not to traumatize this poor nurse.

She nods and waits a few more seconds without moving, requiring a steady look from Leah with both eyebrows raised so that she gets out of the room, apologizing again.

"Stop impressing people" you smile, gently smacking her shoulder.

Leah turns her attention to you with a smirk and lays a softer kiss on your lips this time. Laughing softly at the visible disappointment on your face, she wraps a strand of your hair around her finger.

"As much as I would literally spend the rest of my day kissing you, I would like to make things clear right now"

"Ok?" you answer, feeling the anxiety slowly coming back.

You push yourself to the side of the bed to let Leah settle next to you, which she does by lying on the side her head supported by her hand.

"I know I’m not easy, I’m unpredictable, and sometimes I have trouble myself figuring out why I’m reacting like this. I am unbearable when it comes to food. I am jealous but I hate being so sometimes I pout for like two days without succeeding in explaining why. I’m really not the perfect girlfriend, every time I wanted to surprise someone it went wrong."

You don’t say anything, listening to Leah talking about herself, maybe not in the best way, wondering where she wants to go by telling you all this.

"But I think I’m a caring person, who knows how to take care of those she loves and remember things. I love cuddling in the morning, singing like crazy while burning my breakfast and taking baths. And I think I’ll love all these things even more if you share them with me. It’s been a long time since I’ve been in a relationship, but I want to try with you. I promise you to never hurt you. Let me get this right and let me take you on a date as soon as you get out of here."

"I would love that, Leah"

"Yes?"

"Yes" you answer, your smile illuminating your face.

She smiles back and you lean for another kiss. Leah doesn’t let you, however, putting an index on your lips at the last moment.

"One last thing"

"What?" you ask, hiding your frustration.

"I never want to hear about this damn Emma again."

You laugh while rolling your eyes. Despite her, Leah smiles softly and finally decides to interrupt your laughter by kissing you.