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cressidagrey · 7 months ago

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The Ties that Bind - Chapter 5

Summary:

Shadowsingers were made, not born. Made out of trauma and loneliness and desperation.

So when Cilla and Azriel meet and their shadows entwine, they both meet the only other person that could understand these particular childhood scars.

The last thing Azriel had ever expected from his mate, however, was for her to have a surprising connection to his brother.

Warnings:

Mentions of Child abuse and neglect, Cassian feels horrible, Azriel gets a broken nose and for once, Rhys is actually not that horrible?!

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

For as long as Cassian could think, his brother had the unfortunate habit of not actually talking about his problems. Cassian liked to complain. Azriel never did, regardless of what went on in his life.

He stayed silent, seemingly thinking that even the slightest annoyance was something that he deserved for some god-forsaken reason.

So it shouldn’t actually surprise him that Azriel decided to go completely silent. He should be well used to it by now.

And still, Cassian worried.

“Anything new from Az?” he badgered Rhys during dinner, who just sighed.

“No.”

Mor was already rolling her eyes because he already had annoyed her during this week. He had not gotten a proper answer out of Mor either, because Mor had absolutely no clue where Azriel was or what he was doing. Amren had threatened to behead him if he asked her again if she knew anything and had then decided that not showing up for dinner was probably in her best interests, so Rhys was his next, long-suffering victim.

(Nesta had threatened to geld him, and he was kinda taking her threat seriously, so he had already exhausted that avenue of enquiry as well…and Feyre knew nothing as well.)

“And he really didn’t tell you what it was about?” Cassian wheedled, and Rhys just fixed him with a glance.

“I don’t know any more than what you do,” Rhys gave back. “You know how he gets sometimes. It’s better to give him time, we learned that the hard way,” Rhys said reasonably.

It was true.

They had learned that the hard way. It was much better to give Azriel the time until he came to them on their own until they were in the mood to badger him until blood was drawn.

The problem was just, that Cassian didn’t want to be reasonable.

“Normally we know that something is going on. It’s out of character for him to just…demand time off so suddenly,” he shot back.

“Then I imagine he has a rather good reason for it,” Rhys sniped, rolling his eyes.

“He’ll come to us when he’s ready,” Mor said with a shrug.

That’s what Cassian worried about. That Az was going to come to them when he was ready and not when he actually needed help, which promised to be far earlier.

“It’s not about Rosehall, is it?” Cassian asked suddenly. Was this about Azriel’s mother?

“Cassian, I really don’t know any more than you do,” Rhys said with a sigh.

Fine.

And then, just like somebody had summoned him, Azriel stalked through the door of the Dining Room.

Looking none the worse for wear, which was good…but also looked like he was getting ready for a war, shadows ominously swirling around his shoulders.

Before Cassian could even open his mouth, Azriel fixed him with harsh hazel eyes. “We need to have a talk, Cassian. Outside now.”

It was said so coldly, so evenly that Cassian froze.

“Why outside?” Feyre piped up curiously.

“Chances are, either Cassian will try to kill me or I’ll kill him. I don’t want to get blood on your rugs, so outside,” Azriel answered, not a spark of humour in these words.

“What have I done?” Cassian tried for levity but failed horribly, even as he stood.

Something had happened. And it must have been horribly, otherwise he couldn’t Otherwise he couldn’t…he couldn’t explain what had happened to Azriel.

“I hope to the cauldron nothing,” Azriel answered, his voice quiet, before turning on his heel, and going outside.

Cassian and Rhys exchanged a look of foreboding, though they weren’t the only ones.

Feyre and Mor were jostling for the best viewing position, while Nesta watched the whole thing with crossed arms, clearly thinking that Cassian must have been an idiot or worse…though he really had no idea, what Azriel could be so upset about.

Rhys demanded that they both handed over all the knives they wore, and to his surprise, Azriel not only handed over Truthteller but every other single knife he kept stashed on his body to Rhys without a word…well, that wasn’t particularly calming either.

”Hit me with it. What the fuck is going on?” Cassian asked with a sigh.

“I need to ask you a question. And I need you to answer me truthfully,” Azriel told him, his arms held tightly at his side, wings flaring.

“Yolanda Negrescu.”

It was a name.

“Who?” Cassian asked, coming up…completely empty.

“You don’t remember her?” Azriel asked him, staring at him like he was very much doubting Cassian’s ability to breathe at that moment.

“Should I?” He asked with a grimace.

“You slept with her, Cassian,” Azriel said, his face unmoving like marble.

Oh. He wrecked his brain. What did it say about him that he still kept up completely empty? He had no clue whatsoever who that had been. What Yolanda Negrescu may have looked like…

“Around 20 years ago,” Azriel offered up. So it had been during the Sealing of Velaris. Right. That narrowed it down. If one wanted to call his near-nightly trip to Rita’s or another pleasure hall that…

“You really don’t remember?” Rhys asked from the sidelines and Cassian growled.

“I have slept with a few dozen people in over 500 years. I highly doubt you still remember every single one of your conquests, Rhysie,” he groused. “So I slept with her, 20 years ago. What does it matter?” Cassian asked Azriel with a sigh.

“She’s dead,” Azriel said evenly.

“That’s…sad,” Cassian responded with a sigh. “But I don’t really know what you want from me here, Az?” Why did this result in Azriel coming here and demanding to speak to him? Why had this Yolanda even come up in Azriel’s work? What had happened to Yolanda Negrescu?

Azriel closed his eyes for just a moment, before they opened again, his resolve clearly hardening.

“She died in childbirth. 19 years ago,” Azriel said carefully. “Her daughter‘s Illyrian wings shredded her from the inside out.”

For just one moment it felt like he couldn’t properly breathe anymore.

If he had slept with her 20 years ago…and 19 years ago she had died in childbirth…and the child had Illyrian wings…By the cauldron.

No, this couldn’t be.

This was impossible.

“What?” Nesta spat out.

“Are you sure?” Rhys asked, his voice careful. Azriel just inclined his head.

This shouldn’t be happening. Cassian had always taken a contraceptive draught, he had never even thought about the possibility…he had never even…What?

How could…

A child? A daughter?

He hadn’t known about her. He had never…

She had grown up a bastard, just like him, hadn’t she?

The one thing he has always promised himself he wouldn’t do, father a bastard, and he had managed to do just that.

Not for 500 years, but clearly then his luck or his care had run out and he had saddled the poor girl with…he had killed her and hadn’t even been aware that he had done it.

And she had died giving birth to his daughter.

“I…I have a daughter?” he asked, his voice shaking, staring at Azriel who was still watching him.

“You didn’t know,” Azriel said flatly.

Cassian just stared at him. “What? No, of course, I didn’t know!” he snapped.

If he had known, everybody would have known. He would have never tried to keep his daughter a secret from his family! She would have been his, damnit!

Not thrown away like garbage, like he had been, but treasured and protected.

How could Azriel even think that he ever…

“How did you find her?” he asked Azriel weakly. “Where did you…”

How had Azriel come across her? The first time that evening, something like emotions flittered over Azriel’s face, just that Cassian couldn’t place them.

“I met my mate.”

He blinked, twice.

That was the last thing Cassian had expected after the news of that evening.

But it was good news, wasn’t it?

“You met your mate, Az?” Rhys asked, clearly surprised and Azriel nodded. “But that’s fantastic news! Where did you…“

And then the pieces seemed to come together for Rhys and Cassian at the same time.

Cassian’s wings flared. Pure protectiveness turned into rage enveloping him.

“Azriel. Tell me that your mate is not my daughter,” he spat out. A gasp of surprise, either Nesta or Feyre or Mor…but he didn’t care.

Azriel, his brother, met his gaze square on. It was all the answer he needed

“I am going to fucking kill you,” Cassian growled, as he attacked.

It had been a good call from Rhys to insist on them handing over their knives because like this it only ended in a wrestling match, that probably ruined half of Feyre’s landscaping.

Though he did break Azriel’s nose.

It did not really make him feel better. Especially because he just knew that Azriel had let him get that hit in.

“Don’t even think about laying a hand on her,” he growled, still throttling Azriel.

“Too late for that,” Azriel growled right back, every inch the freshly mated male.

It just fired on that protective fury. “She’s my daughter!” Cassian bellowed. “She’s still half a child!” Azriel had no fucking right to lay one fucking finger on her! She should still be…

“She’s an adult. Otherwise, the mating bond wouldn’t have snapped. Feyre was not much older than her,” Rhys gave back with a sigh. “Cassian.

“And that makes it right?!” Cassian snapped. “Azriel can’t have known her longer than a few hours!”

“Cassian,” Rhys cut him off once again. “She’s his mate. None of us told you to keep away from Nesta.”

“Fuck you,” he seethed. “She’s too young! She probably didn’t even have a clue what she was doing!” Azriel flinched, not saying a single thing and Cassian fixed him with a glare.

“You aren’t even trying to defend yourself,” Cassian realised. “You think the exact same.”

Azriel wiped the blood off his face as Cassian let off him. “She’s fucking traumatised, Cassian,” Azriel said sharply. “I didn’t even think about how bad it was until after.”

He nearly went back to throttling Azriel if Rhys didn’t intercept.

“Is she alright?!” Cassian demanded sharply.

“Physically? Mostly,” Azriel answered, shaking out his wings as he gained his feed. “I fished her out of a mountain lake after she tried to fly. She had a fever but that has disappeared.”

“She can’t fly?” Rhys asked, shocked.

Azriel shook his head, a muscle in his jaw feathering.

“Her grandmother raised her after her mother’s death. She spent her childhood locked in her grandmother’s attic. Her wings were bound to her back so tightly that there is scarring.”

All the tension, all the anger at his brother bled out of Cassian like somebody had hit his carotid artery. An attic.

His daughter had spent her childhood locked in an attic with her wings bound.

She had never had the childhood everybody should have…something like the childhood Nyx got to have these days…of wonder and happiness…Instead, she had been locked into a small dark space, with her wings, the pride and joy of every Illyrian bound to her back so tightly that it had scarred her.

Somehow that seemed just as bad clipping her wings.

“And mentally?” Rhys asked the question he was thinking.

“It could be worse,” Azriel admitted. “She‘s quiet. Halfway Feral. But sweet,” he assured him at Cassian’s startled look.

“Obviously Cassian‘s daughter,” Mor managed to bring out, a joke that fell flat.

“It gets pretty obvious once you realise it. She smells like you,” Azriel said quietly. “Just she has a tint of vanilla to her scent you don’t have.

“And otherwise….?” Cassian asked, shakily.

“She can’t read or write,” Azriel said quietly. “She expects everybody to be out to hurt her. Which isn’t far from the truth, because she got an employer that ignored the minimum wage and a landlord that offered to let her pay for her apartment on her knees.” He spat out the last few words and Cassian wanted to vomit.

She was…she was his little girl.

And she had been…she had been treated so abhorrently.

“What’s her name?” he asked Azriel. “What…”

“Her shadows named her Cilla,” Azriel answered quietly.

Cilla.

But only when Rhys pulled in a sharp breath did the rest of Azriel’s statement register.

“She’s a shadowsinger - just like you,” he realised weakly. Azriel just inclined his head.

Of course. Of course, Azriel hadn’t thought twice about accepting that Mating Bond. Not when Cilla was the one female in all of Prythian that could probably understand his brother. Not when she was the only one who also had this strange ability…

“You know what that means,” Azriel said quietly.

He did.

He swallowed, nausea building in his stomach when he reflected exactly on what it meant.

“What does it mean?” Nesta demanded, and he swivelled around, staring at his mate, who crossed the space between them…that reached out for his hand and squeezed it. “What does that mean for her?”

“It means that she spent so much time alone in the darkness that the darkness decided to talk back to her,” Azriel said, his voice painfully even. “Shadowsingers are made, not born. Most don’t survive their adolescence, driven mad by the sound of the shadows. Others… others find comfort in it.”

Cassian had never asked, but he knew which of these two possibility were the case of his brother. “Cilla only had her shadows for company for half her life. For that she is…surprisingly sane,” Azriel admitted freely.

“You said her shadows named her Cilla. What is her real name?” Nesta asked.

“I couldn’t find a birth certificate,” Azriel admitted quietly. “I only found her mother’s name through house-owning records…Her shadows gave me her former address, I checked who owned the house…I found her grandmother and her mother.”

“What did her grandmother call her?” Cassian asked, but Azriel just shook his head.

“You don’t want me to repeat that,” he told Cassian near painfully soft.

“Who does she look like?” he demanded next, trying to come up…trying to come up with what her mother, what Yolanda had looked like and came up empty, once again.

“Your hair but curlier. The shape of her eyes is you. Nose and mouth must be her mother's but her forehead is all you as well,” Azriel answered. It didn’t help. It didn’t…make it possible for Cassian to imagine…what his daughter, what Cilla must look like.

“And where is she?”

“My house,” Azriel answered quietly. “I…told her that I would get answers for her. She doesn’t know that I know you, but I…I asked her if she wanted to meet her father,” he said carefully and Cassian swallowed. “She wanted to know if her father knew that he signed her mother’s death warrant when he slept with her. And if he knew that she spent the better part of two decades living in that attic.”

“I didn’t,” he pledged. “I didn’t know,” he repeated desperately. Azriel just inclined his head.

“I know,” he answered with a sigh. “I didn’t think you knew…but I needed to make sure.”

Azriel’s eyes were asking for understanding and Cassian understood it.

Azriel was still in the throes of these early days of a freshly mated Male. Overly protective, overly territorial…it was a wonder that he hadn’t outright slaughtered Cassian for a perceived slight against his mate.

“What…What happens now?” Cassian asked shakily. What…

“What do you want to happen now?” Nesta asked him calmly. “She’s your daughter.”

She was. But Nesta was his mate, and Azriel was his brother and…

“She’s your daughter. The only opinion that matters is what the two of you want,” Nesta said carefully, looking at him, with these beautiful grey eyes and he could see the stark honesty in them.

She reached up to cup his cheek.

“She’s your daughter, Cassian,” she repeated, her voice soft. “We’ll deal with it…together.”

“I want to meet her.”

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #my writing #the ties that bind #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction

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rafesbliss · 2 months ago

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ੈ✩‧₊˚ rafe x vacationgirl reader hcs !

warnings light making out, cussing, pretty much fluff !

summary rafe and ward go to the bahamas in seak to hiding the gold from the pogues. rafe is still doing everything to prove to his dad that he’s capable of helping out and actually doing good for once. but while he’s caught up in running and chasing, he runs into you. after that, something in rafe’s brain falters, he needs this girl.

: ̗̀➛ rafe, who accidentally shoves past you when he was already in a bad mood, but when he heard your soft yelp as you fell down, he whipped his head around

: ̗̀➛ “that was my fault, i’m sorry are you okay?” he said in his sweet voice, the one people didn’t hear often. he extended his hand out to help you up.

: ̗̀➛ you could visibly see his eyes soften when you spoke, he was shocked by how pretty your voice was

: ̗̀➛ “yeah, m’okay” your voice was almost like a song, and rafe was addicted to it now. he noticed the strap of your dress had slid off your shoulder and he fixed it for you of course

: ̗̀➛ would NOT stop thinking about you the next day

: ̗̀➛ as he laid in his bed that night he scrolled on his phone, but your pretty face was still in the back of his head

: ̗̀➛ after the whole pogue heist happened and he was sitting in the police station, the gold was just taken from them again, and even better, he shot his sister

: ̗̀➛ in those moments he just replayed your face in his head and it calmed him down

: ̗̀➛ he was walking out of the police station, a clear view of the beach because everything in that island seemed to be on the beach

: ̗̀➛ he spotted you, your tan skin all the way down to the curves of your ass in that white bikini

: ̗̀➛ at first he didn’t believe it, he actually saw you after all these days of hoping to run into you again

: ̗̀➛ he was hesitant to walk all the way down to the beach, toes deep in sand as he awkwardly spoke up

: ̗̀➛ “hey, uh, my names rafe and i thought that you were very beautiful, i was the guy that ran into yesterday”

: ̗̀➛ you turned around, your green eyes meeting his

: ̗̀➛ you looked almost exotic, rafe couldn’t quite figure out where you were from not. not here, not the united states, maybe it was rude to ask so early

: ̗̀➛ “oh, yes, i remember you,” you spoke with a soft smile, he could hear a soft accent in your voice

: ̗̀➛ after that small interaction, the rest of the days rafe spent on the island was with you, he got to really know you even over a small amount of time

: ̗̀➛ it was even more fascinating to get to know where you were from, when he found out that you were born in brazil, he wanted to know everything

: ̗̀➛ “what does ‘fuck’ mean?” your soft voice rang out, rafe smiled as he heard you struggling say it

: ̗̀➛ he turned to look at you, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you saw the smile on his face

: ̗̀➛ “it’s a curse word baby,” he said softly, his laugh ringing through the air as you two sat together on your hotel balcony

: ̗̀➛ he absolutely loved the look when your face turned slight pink from embarrassment

: ̗̀➛ when it was time for him to head home, he wouldn’t admit it to anyone but you but he absolutely wanted to stay forever

: ̗̀➛ he of course gave you his number because he didn’t want this to be the last time you two see each other

#rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #obx season 4 #obx fic #rafe x reader

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ofmdrecaps · 5 months ago

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10/04/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Happy Belated Birthday to Nat Torres!; Rhys Darby; Vico Ortiz; Kristian Nairn; Samba Schutte; Anapela Polataivao ; Ruibo Qian; Dominic Burgess; Minnie Driver; OFMD Awards; Voting Opportunities; Articles; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Today's Taika

== Belated Birthday for Nat Torres! ==

One of our beloved writers, Nat Torres, had their birthday on the 3rd, and I THOUGHT I put it in the last recap and I did not, so my apologies dear! Hope it was fantastic and you had a lovely time!

Source: Nat Torres Instagram Stories

== Rhys Darby ==

New Cryptid Factor episode!! The X Issue! This features the hosts of Expedition X! Check it out on Spotify now-- video version will hopefully be added to Patreon sometime this upcoming week!

Lots of Darby Family sightings the last couple days!

Source: Rosie's IG and Rhys' Facebook

== Samba Schutte ==

Samba has been naturalized as a United States Citizen! Congrats sir! He asked if he's going to be America's Sweetheart now-- absolutely!

Source: Samba's Instagram

== Vico Ortiz ==

New Momentus Event coming Oct 19, 10 AM PT / 1 PM ET! This time with Vico!

In addition! There's a new Jim inspired hoodie available! This time Oodles of Revenge!

Source: ShopStands

== Kristian Nairn ==

Kristian was out DJing at the Ministry of London on the 4th!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Kristian Nairn (@kristiannairn)

instagram

Source: Kristian's Instagram

== Anapela Polataivao ==

More shots of Auntie at the Tina premiere at the Hawai'i International Film Festival!

Source: Tina The Film Instagram

== Ruibo Qian ==

Our Pirate Queen has been keeping an eye out for some amazing fanart of Zheng! She shared fellow crewmates kaybroozayzay and deanbird_ao3 from instagram on her stories! Oh and she picked up Kristian's book!

Source: Ruibo Qian's Instagram Stories

== Minnie Driver ==

Minnie was out at Glamour UK at the Woman of the Year Awards!

Source: Minnie Driver's Instagram

== Dominic Burgess ==

Our beloved Jeffrey Fettering was out at the Hans Zimmer concert!

Source: Dominic's Twitter

He has also once again blessed us with more cat videos! The amount of cat content Dominic is posting is keeping me breathing I swear.

Source: Dominic's Twitter

== OFMD Awards! ==

OFMD received the Transformational Love Award from Greater Good Magazine! Thank you @adoptourcrew for sharing! Check out the article here!

Source: Adopt Our Crew Tumblr

== Voting Opportunities ==

Hey all! New opportunity for voting for out show in the UK! You can vote here and it does require an email! Be sure to vote through all the categories!

Source: Adopt Our Crew Tumblr

== Articles ==

Source: Adopt Our Crew Tumblr

== Love Notes ==

Tonight's love note is brought to you by our Pirate Queen!

Source: Ruibo Qian's Instagram Stories

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

Tonight's gifs are brought you by the gif masters @neonpigeons and @neverswungonswingingstars! I'm in a Freemanji mood, and I blame a certain someone, you know who you are :P

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sadhours · 2 years ago

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Harringrove x reader. ur left sharing a small tent sleeping. boyfriend billy on the right steve the left. your feeling some sexual tension w billy despite you both agreeing not to do anything with ur friends. but he wakes up noticing u staring at his pretty face. He can’t help it-moving even closer to u and kisses you. Eating you up. It’s so sloppy. So intimate and cosy. It’s so loud that Steve wakes up. Once he sees you and billy kissing he moves closer behind you and 😳 double p-

1st billy- then when Steve’s about to insert himself you feel slightly nervous- and you whisper Billy’s name. He brings your head onto his neck praising you to take steve. Once steves inside you and ur comfortable-that’s it. They’re using you for their release. Hard and fast. You hold onto Billy’s muscular form almost crying with how good it feels.

some Harringrove moments- maybe they feel their cocks rubbing against each other at one point ?

Sorry for such the detail I’m not too sure abt it- I’ll let you cook this up or change it - inspired from ur amazing Harringrove smut. I’ve never ever requested Harringrove x reader and some may say I have had my big amount of ideas 🤠

🤤🤤🤤

absolutely, being sandwiched between the two of them is my fckn dream

It’s almost like a cruel joke— the way Steve ended up in the same tent as you and Billy. You’re sure it’s been done on purpose because you’d off-handedly mentioned to Billy that Steve looked good in his Scoops Ahoy! uniform the other day. You and Billy were getting some ice cream after your shifts at the pool ended, Steve and him had become quick friends recently. You weren’t exactly sure how it had happened but they were hanging out suddenly and Steve gave you guys discounts whenever you stopped by to get ice cream. Anyways, you’d both witnessed Steve getting shot down by a group of girls and Billy had laughed, suggesting that it was the dumb uniform to which you shrugged and said he looked cute in it. Immediately afterwards, you looked at him with wide eyes, expecting Billy to be angry but he actually seemed amused— intrigued even.

When Billy invited Steve along to the little camping trip with your guys’ group you were shocked at first but figured, they’re friends now so it wasn’t weird. Until it was time for bed and Steve followed you and Billy into your tiny, two-man tent. But it was totally fine, it wouldn’t be weird because you and Billy discussed not having sex during the trip for the sake of your friends. You were loud, everyone would know and you didn’t want to subject them to that.

Billy’s keeping up his end of the deal, eyes closed and steady breathing. The moonlight peeking into the tent shines beautifully on his face and you’re most definitely staring. He’s so pretty it makes your stomach do flips, you could stare him all day and in fact, when you have the time, you do. You watch his eyes barely move behind his lids, you’re a little impressed by how quickly he can fall asleep. As your eyes rake over the curve of his nose you can’t help but reach your fingertips up to brush against it. Billy’s face squishes up in reaction, his eyes blinking open to meet yours and a lazy smirk spreads across his lips. He turns on his side, facing you completely and copies your earlier movement, brushing his fingertips from the bridge of your nose to its tip. You giggle softly and something shifts in the mood, Billy grabs onto your jaw and leans down to press his lips to yours. The kiss is hungry, Billy grunts softly into it before biting your lower lip and tugging on it. You gasp softly and he takes the opportunity to lick eagerly into your mouth, hand moving from your jaw to your breast and squeezing it through your thin tank top. It’s so sloppy and you try to focus on Billy and not Steve’s back pressed against your own but you panic a little bit, knowing he’s bound to wake up to your and Billy’s sounds.

Your boyfriend doesn’t seem to care, shoving his hand down the front of your pajama pants and underwear, cupping your pussy in his hand as he sucks on your tongue. There’s no possible way you can stop the little moans erupting from you, especially when Billy slides his fingers between your folds. Your whole body feels on fire and you can’t deny you’re turned on by the fact that Steve’s so close while Billy fingers you. However, you feel Steve turn over and you freeze, pressing your palm to Billy’s chest to push him back an inch.

“Shh,” your boyfriend smiles at you, “It’s okay, right Harrington?”

You feel Steve’s hand snake over your hip and you feel his breath against your ear, “I don’t mind at all.”

Suddenly, you’re sure they’ve planned this and while you think you should be upset, you’re not. You’re incredibly aroused by it, actually. Billy must feel as much as his fingers slip inside your aching hole with ease and he smirks at you.

“Is this okay?” Steve asks you softly, his hand moving up to cup your breast, “If I join?”

You knit your eyebrows together, wanting to say yes immediately but looking to Billy for reassurance.

“It’s up to you, darlin’,” Billy purrs, lowering his lips against yours.

You gasp as Steve squeezes your tit and Billy curls his fingers inside, “Yes, I want it!”

You feel Steve’s lips curl against your neck just as Billy lets out a soft chuckle before he’s licking back into your mouth. It’s already pretty overstimulating but your body tingles all over when you feel Steve licking and kissing your neck. You moan but it’s stifled by Billy’s tongue while he pumps his fingers in and out of you. Billy pulls away, saliva connecting between your lips and he makes a guttural noise as he looks over to where Steve’s sucking bruises into your skin.

He sits up, his fingers still inside you and it’s a team effort between the boys as they awkwardly pull your pajamas and underwear down. Steve grabs a hold of your thigh and pulls your leg over his waist, spreading your legs wide as your boyfriend fingers you relentlessly. Steve’s long fingers find your clit and he rubs circles against it, breathing heavy in your ear.

“Oh, fuck,” you whine, eyebrows raising as your chest heaves with your own labored breathing.

Billy bites his lip, watching as his fingers disappear inside your dripping pussy.

“You’re so wet,” Billy comments, voice low, “Thinking about Steve in his uniform?”

Your face flushes, eyes widening at Billy while Steve scoffs beside you, “Got a thing for sailors?”

Billy chuckles, “She’s got a thing for pretty boys. Don’t ya, sweetheart?”

You can’t even answer, you’re not sure any words would come out so instead you nod, hips writhing against the pair of hands on you. The sounds that do come out of you are euphorically induced, uncontrollable. You’ve always been loud, Billy had to keep his hand over your mouth most times. Out here in the forest, he doesn’t seem to care and you’re too blissed out to even think about it. Everything feels too wonderful. Steve’s kissing your jaw and cheek and Billy reaches his free hand up and turns your face to Steve, groaning when Steve licks into your mouth. It’s different kissing Steve but it’s not bad, he’s not as eager as Billy, he’s slower.

Billy sighs softly and you can’t help but open your eyes and look over at him. He’s got his left hand wrapped around his cock, stroking lazily as he watches you kiss Steve while still thrusting his fingers inside you, but his pace has slowed. It’s fucking hot, seeing Billy so worked up at the sight of you kissing his friend. Steve grinds his hips up and you can feel his erection against the back of your thighs. You feel like you’ve won the fucking lottery or something. Two of the hottest men you’ve ever seen, right here at the same time. You don’t feel so guilty about your crush on Steve anymore.

“Fuck,” Billy exhales, squeezing at the base of his cock. “So hot.”

Steve leans back from the kiss and easily maneuvers you on top of him, your back against his chest. When Billy pulls his fingers out, you stubbornly whine at the loss but Steve’s holding your legs open as Billy positions himself between them. He slaps the head of his cock against your pussy and you moan out, leaning your head back against Steve’s shoulder. Your boyfriend doesn’t tease anymore, prodding his tip against your entrance.

“Pull her legs up, Harrington,” he instructs and Steve obeys, hands smoothing over the backs of your thighs and he holds them up for Billy.

Billy sinks in, groaning lowly as he bottoms out. You cry out, eyes squeezing shut at the sensation of Billy stretching you out.

“Jesus,” Steve comments, “She’s loud.”

“Yeah,” Billy grunts, “Have to fucking gag her half the time.”

The way they’re talking about you and not to you is surprisingly hot, you kind of like feeling like an object to them. You’re totally happy to let them use you however they please.

“Your dick is thick as hell, though,” Steve muses, “Poor thing probably can’t help herself.”

Billy laughs lowly, rolling his hips which pulls another sound from you and Billy tsks, “Feels good, doll? Am I stretching that tight pussy out?”

“Uh-huh,” you whine and you can feel Steve groan, the sound from his chest vibrates against your back.

“Just you wait,” he says beneath you and your eyes widen up at Billy.

He smirks, licking his tongue against his bottom lip and nods, “Oh, yeah, we’re gonna stretch you out nice and good, baby.”

“Billy…” you whine out, reaching up to grab onto his shoulders while he thrusts his cock deeper.

“You ready?” Billy asks and you look up at him with uncertainty. He pouts, stroking your cheek with his thumb, “I think she needs to be warmed up a little more, Harrington.”

“I can help,” Steve props his knee up so he can keep your thigh held up for Billy while he moves his hand around to rub at your clit again.

“Ah, perfect,” Billy drawls, “She’ll be ready after she cums.”

He pistons his hips quicker as Steve works against your clit, it’s all so intoxicating and you already feel like your floating up to the clouds. You keep your eyes open, watching your boyfriends face intently as he fucks you open. Billy looks almost drunk, glassy eyes with his lips parted and his eyebrows knit together. He’s so beautiful it makes you feel dizzy. The head of his cock pounding against your g-spot helps, along with Steve’s firm fingers playing at your clit. The pressure building up in your stomach is working quicker than ever before, you’re not even sure how that’s possible. Billy’s gotten to know your body well, he can make you cum pretty quickly when he wants to but this is entirely new. You can’t even bring your orgasm along this fast by yourself.

“Fuck, oh fuck,” you blubber, “i’m… oh my fucking god!”

The pair of them double down, Billy thrusts even harder and Steve rubs your clit faster. You see white as your orgasm crashes into you, causing your body to seize and then thrash between the men. You’re screaming, you’re sure of it, your throat feels raw when you come to, panting against Billy’s mouth, you can’t even remember when he put his lips against yours. You blink repeatedly as he pulls away, this almost devious look in his eyes.

“Goddamn,” Steve grunts.

Billy pulls out of you and lays down on his back, grabbing you and pulling you on top of him. He kisses you deeply, smoothing his hands over your ass before he slips his cock back inside of you. You whine, feeling like you might actually cry. He wraps his arms around your middle and keeps kissing you through the whimpers you make. Then you feel Steve’s cock poking against you and your eyes widen again, looking to Billy with panic. He rubs his big hands against the small of your back.

“Billy…” you whisper, voice shaky.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he coos, “You can take him too.”

You bite your lip, nodding to your boyfriend as you wait for the stretch of your life. You’re nervous but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t fantasize about this. “Okay,” you breathe, smiling at Billy.

Steve slides in alongside Billy and they both make low, throaty groans and you’re preening at the sounds. It helps the burn, knowing they’re enjoying the feel of their cocks rubbing against each others. You think about the possibilities of this becomes a regular thing with them. You’d really like to kiss the both of them at the same time. You press your forehead against Billy’s shoulder, trying to get adjusted to the feeling of two thick cocks stretching you out.

“Such a good little cock slut,” Billy purrs and Steve’s hips jerk at his words, urging himself deeper inside you which pulls a cry from your chest.

“Fuck, sorry,” Steve apologizes, hands grabbing onto your hips while Billy’s wrap against the back of your neck.

“No… felt good,” you whimper, grabbing onto Billy’s bulging biceps.

They both seem to take that as the go ahead, rolling their hips and your mind goes fuzzy. Their fingers are bruising where each of them holds you, thrusting in sync brutally. The noises they make flood your ears and you might’ve died and gone to heaven. It’s excruciating, how stuffed and satisfying it feels.

“Fuuuuuck,” you moan out, turning your face to catch Billy’s lips in a dazed kiss. Steve’s hand smooths up your back and grabs a fistful of your hair while he thrusts up inside you. He pushes your face down against Billy’s, forcing the kiss deeper.

Billy’s hands move down to your ass and he pulls your cheeks apart, holding you open while the two of them drill into you. It feels almost unreal, but you chase the fact that this is reality, you’ve really got Steve and Billy’s cocks stretching you out.

“Such a good girl,” Billy purrs.

“Mm, doing so well,” Steve supplies just as Billy smacks your ass.

The praise sends you over the moon, your eyes flutter closed. This is beyond your expectations. This is wonderful. This is earth shattering. This is fucking everything and you’re absolutely drunk on it. They’re fucking you raw, so hard and fast and you’re feeling used in the best way possible. You’re hoping and praying this turns into a regular thing.

“Wish you could see her face, Stevie,” Billy growls, “She looks so fucked out.”

Steve kisses against your cheek before pulling your hair to turn your face so he can see it, “Still with us, sweetheart?”

“Unh…” if they thought you were capable of the English language at this point, they’re sorely mistaken. You’re an absolute puddle. Words barely have any meaning, all you know is you’ve never experienced ecstasy like this and you’re fucking loving every second.

They each give a pleased little laugh, both breathless as they try to feign control, like they’re not both so close on the edge. You feel special, so so so deeply special and on top of the fucking world. The sheer stretch of the two of them shoved inside you made your eyes cross, had your whole body shaking, was so irrevocably pleasurable that you weren’t sure you could recover. They’d fuck you dumb, that much was guaranteed. You realize tears are streaming down your face only when Billy’s wiping them away and kissing you softly.

“You’re taking us so well, baby,” he encourages, “you’re doing so good, you’re such a good girl for me.”

“Billy….” You whine out, grateful you remember any words, particularly your boyfriends name. “Billy, billy….” You chant it because it grounds you, keeps you tied to reality.

Their thrusts match in desperation, both making incredibly pretty sounds that make your ears hot. It’s matched by their strong, big hands moving over your body. There’s a pair grabbing onto your tits, they must be Steve’s judging by the angle which means Billy’s are the pair gripping and pulling at your ass. You’re elated, floating practically as they fuck into you relentlessly. It’s brutal, rough in the way you need. Steve pulls you up by your hair, your back flush against his chest and he kisses you deeply. Billy digs his fingers in your hips, eyes scanning up and down your body and then to where you and Steve are sloppily making out. Steve moves his hand down and presses his fingers to your clit.

“Fuck,” you choke out, all the sensations they’re serving you is becoming almost too much. You can’t tell if you want to push them away or pull them closer.

“Baby,” Billy coos, smoothing his hand up over your side, “Sweetheart, you gonna cum for us?”

“Uh-huh…” you whine, “M’so close… feels so good.”

Steve kisses against your ear before whispering, “Come on, babygirl. Give us what we want.”

You’re sent over the edge, your second orgasm ripping through you with a cry and everything goes fuzzy for a few seconds. Then Steve’s pushing you back down, pistons his hips faster while Billy’s rock up to meet his thrusts. Billy captures your lips in a kiss, there’s hands running all over along your body but you can’t tell who’s who. Then Steve makes a strangled groan and you feel his cum filling you up, at least you’re assuming it’s his by the noise he makes. Billy hums against your lips, moving his hips harder into you and then he’s making a similar sound to Steve and you feel more cum filling you up and you whimper, holding onto Billy’s muscular chest for dear life. The feeling of their cum mixing together inside you is unmatched and you make a small whine as they each pull out of you. Steve collapses beside you and you remain clinging to Billy. You fall asleep like that, Billy rubbing soothing circles against your back and whispering softly how good you did and how beautiful you are.

When you wake up, you feel sticky and honestly, dirty. A shower would be greatly appreciated but as you open your eyes you’re reminded that you’ll be in the forest for one more night so a dip in lake is gonna have to do instead. You hear Steve mumbling something incoherent sleepily and feel Billy’s breath against your face and then you realize you’re sandwiched between the two of them, they’re both holding you tightly. It’s a wonderful thing to wake up to. You feel so warm inside.

Billy kisses your cheek and then nudges his nose against yours, “Good morning, darling.”

You hum, “Morning.”

Steve mumbles something again from behind you and tightens his grip on you.

“Can we do that again?” you whisper to Billy, blushing.

He smirks down at you, “What do you think we’re doing tonight, doll?”

#harringrove x you #harringrove x reader #billy x steve x you #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove smut #billy x steve x reader #billy request #Steve request

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watchmegetobsessed · 2 years ago

Text

BULLETPROOF

A/N: *screams in excitement* its here!!! its finally here!!! im so happy i finally got to finish a longer fic without hitting rockbottom with it. this one was very easy to write, i think i was heavily inspired by the night agent series on netflix lol now im very excited for yall to read it!!

WORD COUNT: 12.5k

WARNING: gun use, getting shot, blood, stalking, bullying

SUMMARY: Being Eroda's first daughter is not all sunshine and rainbows. It's tough out there when people are so fast to judge you and turn their back on you. But there is one person who's been there for you all along. Your bodyguard, Harry.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

The wine is nice. The salad is tragic, probably the worst you’ve ever had. You wonder how dessert will turn out to be, could be good or poisonous at this point.

The company?

Well, at least he is not staring at your breasts.

Going out with Jaiden sounded a lot more fun when he asked you out in the library, but now that you’ve been listening to him speak for the past thirty-two minutes, you’re counting it, he appears to be just another douche who wants to brag about you at the next frat party. He probably thinks he is doing well and he might get lucky once you leave the restaurant, but there are two reasons why that won’t happen.

One, you spotted some tomato sauce on his left hand before he left to the restroom and when he came back it was still there, he did not wash his hands and then touched the garlic bread. You’ve pushed the basket out of your view discreetly after that. It’s already a very strong point, but the second one is the real deal.

There is absolutely no way the three agents, one by the door, one by the window and one at two tables from you would be okay with assisting to your hookup. Well, it’s not that they would have a choice, if you think of it. But think about it: even if he weren’t a pig, this is how it would go.

Arriving to Jaiden’s building you would be told to wait outside with Morrison, while Jackson and Styles go up and check out Jaiden’s place. Then they would come down to get you. If the mood weren’t dead by this point, you’d have to go up and start the action with one agent down in front of the building, one by the front door and then the worst, you just know Styles would stand by the bedroom door like a statue, listening closely to everything happening inside.

Then when it would be over you’d have to leave with the three men around you and return to your place. Madness. Pure comedy.

“What do you think?”

Jaiden’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts about the ridiculous daydream of tonight and you realize you have no idea what he’s been talking about in the last seven minutes.

“Um, sorry?” you clear your throat, reaching for the wine.

“I was asking you about how…”

You look over his shoulder and spot Styles through the glass door, zoning out of the conversation in record time.

He is wearing civil clothes, all three of the agents are, that was the deal when you’re out somewhere, with friends or on a date which happen once in a leap year, to be honest. He’s wearing a black t-shirt with a black bomber jacket over, simple, dark jeans and trainers. You wonder if this is actually his style, if this is how he dresses when he is not on duty, when he is running errands or meeting up with his friends for drinks. You only see him when he is responsible for protecting you at all cost, he’s been head of your security team for the past two years and it’s been a rollercoaster of a ride.

He was a real pain in the ass at the beginning, he would jump at every possible noise, he dragged you out of class once because someone’s pen clicked louder than the usual. Fuck, you lost count of the times you screamed at him, asking what was his problem, if he lost his mind and every time he just stood there, like a fucking rock and then just nodded at the end and carried on with his nonsense.

It took some time and lots of communication to find balance. You realized he would never listen to you when you’re screaming from the top of your lungs and you had to accept that he is just doing his job. So you sat down with him and your father, the president of Eroda to talk about boundaries.

Things have been better since then and the two of you actually work well together. Most of the times.

He was next to you at every major event, ups and downs, he drove you home after you confronted your last serious boyfriend about how he cheated on you with three different girls, you sobbed like a baby and couldn’t even open the lock on your front door. He took the keys gently from your hand and did it for you. When you woke up in the morning the fridge was stocked with your favorites. You never asked, but you know he did it.

He has attended concerts and parties with you, shadowing you even when you had to get tampons in the middle of the night. You bet he knows what brand and size you use too at this point. As much as he’d gotten on your nerves millions of times… you like the guy. He is straight forward, always speaks his mind if asked, he sees things in a very rational way. He’s ambitious and hard-working and most of all, trustworthy.

He might actually be your best friend.

How tragic, you consider your head of security to be your best friend! This must be the end here…

“You’re really not listening, are you?” Jaiden laughs, but it’s dry, he looks pissed when you look back at him.

“Sorry, it’s been… a long week. And honestly, I kind of lost interest when you started talking about football, since I know nothing about it.”

“Wow, okay, so what were you expecting? Brainstorming about possible ways to stop the climate change?” he scoffs and you actually think about just standing up and leaving.

“No, but on a date you usually talk about things you both like. I guess we have nothing in common, then. So why don’t we—“

“You really know how to make people feel stupid.”

“Excuse me?” Your eyebrows shoot up, this is getting interesting.

“Just because daddy runs the country, doesn’t mean you’re above us all. Don’t have to be such a snob.”

“Oh, it wasn’t even me being a snob,” you retort with a forced smile as you grab your bag from the table and from the corner of your eyes you already see the agents moving. “It’s been a lovely evening, but I think we’re better as… I would say friends, but it wouldn’t be true. Bye, Jaiden.”

You stand and plan to march past him to meet Morrison and Jackson to head out, but Jaiden is not done, it seems. He jumps to his feet and his hand grabs your upper arm, pulling you back. He barely just opens his mouth when Hell breaks loose.

Morrison is first to get his hands on him, yanking him away from you while Jackson tears his hand off you, then it gets twisted behind him and Styles arrives, smacking your date up against the wall.

The whole restaurant is staring at you and you just want the ground to open beneath you.

You stop at your front door out of instinct, already knowing they have to sweep through the place before you could enter. Styles stands beside you and waits for Morrison and Jackson to return. When it’s confirmed you walk in, a blank look on your face.

“Have a nice night, guys. Thank you for tonight,” you tell them in a robotic voice. Morrison and Jackson says good night and you hear the door closing, but you know you’re not alone.

Styles stands by the door and you can feel him watching your every move as you put your heels away and take your earrings out.

“Are you gonna give me a lecture about choosing guys more wisely?” you ask, finally facing him. He’s standing with his hands clasped together at the front, his usual pose, but it’s a bit odd without his usual suit.

“No,” he answers shortly and you wait for him to say whatever is on his mind. “Just wanted to ask if you’re alright.”

“My arm is fine, you don’t ha—“

“I wasn’t asking about your arm.”

You stare back at him in silence, everything just dawns on you all at once and your chest feels like burning.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you breathe out, but then a tear rolls down your face.

You see the change in him instantly. His eyes soften as he walks over to you, his gaze frantically searching your face, probably trying to figure out what to do. They don’t tell agents how to deal with young, crying women who feel like they are going to die alone.

“I’m fine, really,” you say again and he pulls out a tissue from his pocket, handing it over to you.

“He was a douche. Don’t take it too seriously.”

“How many disastrous dates have I been on in the past year?” you ask with a shaking voice. He doesn’t answer, just clenches his jaw. “You know damn well that it was my eleventh. You were there at all of them. I can’t help but start to think that something must be wrong with me and not with them.”

“Nothing is wrong with you. They were… weird guys. They were the problem, not you.”

“So then it’s just my taste that��s trash, right?” you let out a bitter laugh, hoping that making fun of yourself would help, but it doesn’t. It never does.

“Finding the right person is hard. You have to give it time.”

“I’m impatient, if you haven’t noticed.”

“I have. The first day I met you.”

There it is.

That teeny tiny smile that barely just curls up the corners of his mouth but it drives you insane. Because it’s so rare, it’s so intimate and every time you see it the urge to kiss it gets harder and harder.

Yes, it’s such a cliché, but you do have a crush on your bodyguard. You fought it, you really did, but one day you had to realize there’s nothing you can do about it. Now you’re just trying to live with it but moments like this make it really hard not to overstep certain boundaries. For one, you really shouldn’t have feelings for someone whose job is to protect your life at all cost. Your father would have a heart attack if he found out you’re hooking up with an agent. And two… he might be nice to you, a real friend, but you feel like there’s no way he would ever feel the same way about you. Hell, sometimes, on your worse days you even question his friendship. What if it’s all just the job for him? To take care of your fragile little soul?

You’re awfully lonely.

“Get some rest, you have an 8 am class in the morning.”

He steps back and the smile is gone just like that.

“Yes sir!” you salute him, to which you just get a bored look before he takes one last look around and walks out to check in with the night shift agents outside your door.

You’d rather spend this Saturday evening locked up in your bedroom, watching Criminal Minds and eating popcorn, but tonight is one of those occasions where you have to make an official appearance as the president’s daughter.

You’ve definitely woken up on the wrong side of the bed, nothing went as you planned so far and you even had a fight with Styles because he ended your morning run earlier when a group of obnoxious fratboys appeared on the football field next to the running track and they accidentally threw a ball in your way.

You have not talked to him since, haven’t even seen him, but you know for a fact he will be coming with you tonight. He is there at every official event, never missing one.

There’s a soft knock on the front door just when you’ve finished getting dressed. You shuffle over to the door and opening you find yourself facing Styles in his usual suit, a change from the workout clothes he wore in the morning.

Fuck, you want to act grumpy still, but he looks especially good with slightly more tamed than usually and he is freshly shaven.

“Ready to go?” he asks.

“Not yet. Come and help me, please,” you say as you turn around, but you notice he is not following you. “Come on, I won’t bite your head off.”

With a tiny frown he finally moves and follows you into your bedroom where you grab the diamond necklace you want to wear tonight.

“Can you put it on, please?”

He takes the necklace, holding it so gently, you have never seen him handle something with so much care.

Maybe only you.

You turn around and hold your hair up as he reaches around your neck and you bit back a moan when his fingers brush against your collarbone. He fidgets with the clasp for a few moments before taking a step back once it’s done.

“Do you think I can make an early Irish exit tonight?” you ask, stepping into your heels and he offers you a hand that you gladly take to help the process. Once you’re done you head out, Styles following you right behind.

“Don’t think the president would appreciate it.”

“Oh, I know him well, I think I can have a pass from him.”

It’s another event where you feel absolutely useless, you’re just there so your father could show off.

“…And this is my daughter, Y/N. She is studying law!... She is top of her class, yes… Isn’t she a lovely young woman?...”

The smile on your face starts to hurt when you decide to take a break from all the guests that you know nothing about but they all seem to be very familiar with you.

“I’m gonna go out for a bit,” you tell Styles who’s been your shadow all night, three other agents watching your every step as well from different points of the room.

“Let me che—“

“I think there’s no danger out on the balcony, everyone has been thoroughly checked here, I’ll be fine for five minutes.”

You have a staring match for a minute where he weighs in on your words before finally nodding.

“Five minutes,” he says, opening the door for you.

“Start the fucking clock,” you mumble under your breath.

As you stand by the railing, staring out into the night you feel more deflated than ever. Like you’ve lost every ounce of energy and the urge to just scream is quite tempting. This is not the life you dreamed of, but it is what your father always wanted and you sometimes feel like a terrible daughter for being so displeased. You do have privileges others would never get to experience, but you’ve never felt lonelier and more out of place. The way here showed you how shallow your friendships have been, now only have about three people you consider your friend and one is your bodyguard, one is studying in Switzerland and the third is… Wait, there’s no third. That’s it, you have two friends.

You hear Styles stepping closer and you already know what he is about to say.

“I know my time is up, but if you dare to remind me, I’m pushing you off this balcony.”

Turning around you face him, ready to fight him for some more time, but you’re surprised to see him with that tiny smile on his face.

“You’re really moody today,” he states, but it’s not one of those smartass comments he usually makes, he is teasing you.

“Surprising?”

“A little bit. Are you… Are you still upset about your date?” His face turns serious.

“I was never upset about the date specifically. I was upset because… Whatever, it doesn’t matter.”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“Stop being so fucking polite,” you groan.

“I can’t be rude to you, I would lose my job.”

“You’ve been rude to me on several occasions! Especially at the beginning!” you accuse him.

“I was never rude. I was honest.”

“Jesus, you are so annoying,” you roll your eyes that earns a smirk from him.

“That’s not my job, but I tend to be that often.”

“I might be moody, but you’re awfully cheeky tonight. What’s gotten into you?”

You head back inside, Styles following you.

“Don’t know, guess I’m just in a good mood.”

“Alright, then I’ll need a drink to put up with this new side of yours.”

And that’s what you did, but you didn’t stop at one drink. You didn’t plan to, but you successfully got so drunk Styles had to rescue you out of the venue before your father saw you. After all, you did make an Irish exit.

In the car you can tell Harry is not in the same good mood, he looks rather pissed as he drives you back home, constantly checking the mirrors to see if Morrison and Jackson are behind you.

“Aw, did I make your job harder?” you pout, but then start laughing as you look at his hard stare. His profile looks annoyingly beautiful and you just want to draw the slope of his nose with your finger.

“No, but it would have been nice if I didn’t have to bring you out through the back door on my shoulder, because you kept running away.”

You start laughing as he recites what happened just about fifteen minutes ago when he was trying to chase you down to get you into the car and away from anyone that could ruin your father’s political career if they saw his daughter running around drunk.

“Don’t be so pissed, your eyebrows will glue together one day, you pull the together way too much,” you snort out a laugh as you slide lower in your seat.

It’s an hour long drive and of course, you fall asleep soon. When you open your eyes next, you see that you’re already in the garage of your building.

“Come on, you need to get to bed.” Styles opens the car door, but you’re still half drunk and half asleep, so you just mumble something and close your eyes back. “Y/N, you can’t spend the night in the car.”

“Says who?” you breathe out.

For a few seconds nothing happens and you start drifting back to sleep when you feel an arm behind your back and one under your knees. You faintly realize that you’re being carried up to your apartment and when you force yourself to open your eyes, you realize that it’s Styles.

“Mm, is this also in your job description?” you groggily tease him, barely able to keep your eyes open. “Mr. Styles. Harry. Can I… call you that?”

“Call me whatever you want,” he answers and then waits in front of the apartment while it’s checked out. With the last bits of your energy you study his face that’s now dangerously up close. He is carrying you like you weigh nothing, his strong hold keeping you safe.

“Oh, don’t tell me stuff like that,” you chuckle, your eyes closing as you push down a yawn. You hear the agents coming out of your apartment, saying it’s clear before Harry starts walking again and a few moments later you’re laid down on your bed.

“You have to change, Y/N,” he tells you, pulling your heels off your sore feet. Groaning, you sit up and he helps you up to a standing position before turning around to walk out, but you stop him, pulling him back by his hand.

“I can’t get this off alone,” you say, nodding down at your dress. You catch the hesitation in his eyes as he weighs in the situation and steps back at last.

You turn around and move your hair so he can access the zipper. He doesn’t move instantly and you’re almost about to turn around when you finally feel his touch on your back. He places one hand to your shoulder blade, holding the dress in place while he pulls the zipper down with the other.

Slowly.

So slowly, it’s almost like foreplay.

Especially since you have no bra underneath, so the lower he gets the more skin he is able to see. The silky dress loosens around your body and you know he is looking at your bare back. With one hand you keep the dress to your chest, but the other one lets go of your hair as you turn back around to face him.

The alcohol is working eagerly in your system and you’re feeling blunt and risky as you hold your chin high with a half smirk.

“Where did your cheekiness go, Harry?”

“I’m gonna go now.” He gulps hard as he backs away towards the door, but you follow him.

“Am I that scary? That you’re running away?”

“Y/N, stop.” He looks into your eyes as he finally stops and his green irises appear dangerously dark as he stares back at you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you shrug innocently as you keep walking towards him until you’re just inches away from his chest. “Have you never thought of me like that?”

He doesn’t answer, but you don’t see disgust on his face and it’s enough for you to keep pushing.

“Because I have. Several times. On nights when I knew you were outside and then other times when I didn’t know where you were but I was hoping you were thinking of me.”

He is still completely silent, though his eyes are throwing fireworks your way when one of the straps of your dress slips down your shoulder.

“I want you and I want you to want me too, Harry,” you whisper as you move even closer, your hand that’s holding your dress pushing to his chest while the other moves up to the base of his neck. His skin is burning and you’re desperate to feel it underneath his crispy dress shirt too.

But before you could close the gap, he pulls back and it’s like a slap across your face.

“Go to bed, Y/N. You need to sleep.”

“But think about it, you could brag about fucking the president’s daughter, wouldn’t you want that? You’d be the man, Harry.”

Your words are like venom as you look at him, your chest heaving, your heart hammering under your hand.

“Stop talking before you say something you might regret,” he warns you.

“So you’re not man enough to fuck me? How should I trust you with my life then if you can’t even make me come?” you call after him when he is already out of the bedroom.

He freezes and the words sink in as you stare at the back of his head. You expect him to turn around and lecture you, to tell you how cheap you sounded, but instead he just walks out of the apartment and leaves you to your spiraling, drunk thoughts.

You realize you never actually knew panic and terror until you wake up the next morning, realizing what you did last night. That you have to face Harry after you almost begged him to fuck you and then said he is not man enough to be your guard because he didn’t have sex with you.

You have an afternoon yoga class on Sunday that you very much consider canceling on just so you don’t have to face Harry, but you can’t hide in your apartment forever, you’d have to meet him again sooner or later. So when it’s time for you to leave and you hear the knock on your door you open it with shaking hands, relief washing over you instantly when you find DeLuca standing in front of you, no trace of Harry.

That means you have some more time to figure out how to deal with the situation you got yourself into. Yoga actually helps you find some peace of mind, but only until you leave and catch on Jackson’s radio before getting into the car, Harry’s voice asking for a report.

He is working and he’ll be at your apartment, meaning that you have to go through the most awkward situation ever in about fifteen minutes.

It all happens as if you were in a movie. Arriving at the garage Jackson opens the door for you, DeLuca rounds the car and right at that moment the doors to the elevator swing open and Harry walks out with two other agents. Your mouth goes dry and you’re getting ready to fake your death, but things take a turn then.

“DeLuca, take her to the second floor, it’s been cleared. Jackson, Morrow, come with us.” Harry instructs the agents and you realize something is wrong.

“What? What’s happening?”

There’s an apartment on the second floor for the agents, like their own little headquarter and it’s usually the safe place they take you to whenever something looks suspicious. Harry looks at you, worry etched onto his face as he places a hand to your back and leads you over to DeLuca.

“There’s been a security alert while you were away, we need to check the whole building.”

“Alert? What kind?”

“Someone tried to get into your place,” is all he says before he passes you over to DeLuca and disappears with the other agents.

The time you spend on the second floor feels like forever, but it’s actually only twelve minutes. They sweep through the whole building and check the system, trying to find out what happened, but the cameras only caught a man in a black hoodie who stopped at your door, fidgeted with the lock for a while but couldn’t get in so he left. When it’s safe for you to return to your own place you’re walked back by two agents, but the tension is still thick.

You hear Harry doubling the agents for the rest of the day and night and he checks your apartment one last time himself again when his phone rings and you know it’s your dad calling from the tone he answers the call.

“Yes, sir. Passing the phone over,” Harry says after the briefing of the situation and then holds the phone out to you.

“Dad?”

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, I wasn’t here.”

“Alright. We’ll have some extra agents around you for a while. I know you don’t like the guardedam, but we have to do it until we find out who it was.”

“Okay.”

You talk a little more and then you give the phone back to Harry, because your dad wants to have a few words with him. He listens carefully for a while and then walks out of the apartment, leaving you wondering what else there could be, but your dad could be a little too overprotective, so you’re sure he is just fussing about the situation.

You’ve just finished making yourself a cup of tea when Harry returns. He would never admit it, but you can tell this incident is stressing him out.

“Everything alright with my dad? He didn’t tell you off or anything, right?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “But you won’t like what I’m going to say. You need to have an agent in here with you until we get to the bottom of this situation.”

“Will it be you?” The question rolls off your tongue before you could even think about it.

“If you want me, yes.”

“I feel the safest with you.”

It’s the truth. Even though the things you told him, screamed at him, don’t agree, he is still the one you trust the most around here to have in your apartment with you.

“Okay,” he nods. “I have to talk to the team, so–”

“Wait!” you stop him from leaving, knowing well you need to have this conversation. Swallowing hard you leave the tea on the kitchen counter and round the island to get closer to him, but still keep some distance. “I want to… I want to apologize for last night. My behavior was… Unforgivable.”

“No need to apologize.”

“Don’t bullshit me,” you give him a hard look. “I had too much to drink, I didn’t… I wasn’t thinking. So… I’m sorry.”

He stares back at you for seconds that feel like forever before he finally nods and you know it’s not just a meaningless reaction to get you out of his hair.

“Okay.”

“We’re… we’re good?”

“Yes. But I really need to go now.”

“Alright,” you clear your throat as you watch him walk towards the door, but he turns back one last time. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay.”

And with that, he is off to do his job.

You spend the rest of Sunday studying and you get so focused on your textbooks and notes that you totally forget about Harry’s return and you don’t even notice it. So when you wander out of your bedroom after your brain has been fried from everything you studied, you almost scream when you see Harry standing in the living room by the window.

“Holy shit!” you snap a hand to your chest to calm your racing heart.

“What happened?” He moves fast like a cat, instantly checking the room for possible dangers.

“Nothing happened, I just… forgot you’d be here,” you admit with a soft chuckle as you head out to the kitchen. “It’s kind of creepy how you’re just standing there.”

“I can see the street from here as well,” he answers, as if it was such an obvious thing to say.

As you move around the kitchen, heating some leftovers up you catch him looking at you, or to be more precise, your legs that are almost completely bare thanks to the cotton shorts you’re wearing.

Last night was a disaster, but now that the shame has settled in you, something else has been lingering in the back of your mind. The sense of hesitation you experienced when you were trying to seduce him embarrassing yourself has been on your mind. How he didn’t move away instantly, how it looked like he was fighting himself, so it gives you the idea that a tiny part of him does look at you the same way you look at him.

The way he is looking you up is another boost to the theory.

“Any news about the intruder?” you casually ask, ignoring his stare that quickly slips away from you when you speak up.

“Not yet. But we’re working on it.”

“Do you think… it’s something serious? Like someone is after me?” Leaning onto the kitchen island you play with the spoon in your hand as you look at him, waiting for his response.

“I wouldn’t go into guessing. I’m more of a–”

“Of a fan of factual planning, I know,” you finish his sentence with a smile. You’ve heard it from him several times, word by word.

Grabbing the bowl you round the island and stop a few feet away from him.

“I really do trust you, Harry. With my life.”

You feel like you had to let him know again after last night. The way you questioned his ability to protect you was not fair, he gave you no reason to believe he is not the best person for the job. There’s a reason why he is head of the team.

“Thank you,” is all he says. He is back to his distant self that only focuses on work. You know in times like this it’s better to play by the rules and retreat.

“I’m gonna head to bed soon. Good night, Harry.”

“Good night, Y/N.”

Everything falls back to a somewhat normal routine. Following the incident your team almost doubles, but nothing actually happens and the building’s security system gets an update so three weeks later you’re back to your usual with only slight changes.

Like how there’s an agent in your living room during the night.

There was a discussion about positioning someone inside your apartment and they explained to you why it’s better to have someone with you during the night. You understood and agreed to do it under one condition: you have to approve of the agents that can take the position. There are three of them and of course, Harry is in that team.

He’s been taking up the inside position as much as he can. He never asked you, but maybe he figured you know him the best and feel the most comfortable with him inside.

Most of the time he hangs out in the living room. He doesn’t stand by the window all the time, you’ve caught him sitting in the armchair, walking around, stretching his limbs. To make it less miserable for him you spend a lot of time in front of the TV, mostly to hopefully entertain him at least a bit now that he’s stuck with you more than ever. For days, he didn’t even look at the screen, but lately you’ve caught him following the show several times, so you’re religiously keeping this habit up.

The awkwardness has faded, but it definitely taught you a lesson. You better not get drunk when Harry is around and that’s like… all the time.

Everything seems to be back to it’s extraordinary normal that you’ve been used to for the past few years.

Today is a special day, however. You’ve been part of a case study competition, your criminal law professor suggested you enter and you’ve worked insanely hard on your case for the past three months that earned you first place. They are holding a little award ceremony today and it will finally be your moment. You will be in the spotlight because of something you worked hard for and not because your father is the leader of the country.

He promised to be there and watch you accept your well-deserved award and you’re excited to make him proud.

You started the day early and channeled your excitement into a long morning run before spending the noon at a salon to get your hair and nails done for the occasion. You might be the president’s daughter, but you’re a woman after all and you love a good pampering before an event.

Now you’re sitting in you closet, trying to figure out what to wear, all the outfits you’ve tried on but decided against are lying on the floor around you in piles. You start to think you should have gone shopping, but then you find the perfect dress, a simple, but elegant black dress with a deeper back cut. You pair them with a pair of designer heels and some statement earrings to bring some light into this quite dark set and you’re all done.

When you walk out of the bedroom Harry is standing by the window in his usual black suit white shirt attire. His eyes snap over to you and this time he can’t hide how he checks you out from head to toe. You can feel the heat crawling up your neck to your cheeks and ears.

“What do you think?” you ask, giving him a twirl.

“You look… very professional,” he answers. It’s not what you expected, but you know he meant it in the best possible way.

“Has my dad’s plane landed?”

“I haven’t gotten any news from his team yet, but I’m sure he’ll be there on time. Shall we leave?”

“Yeah,” you nod, feeling out of breath. An unsettling feeling sinks into your gut, but you brush it off as Harry helps you put on your coat and you leave the apartment in the ring of agents.

Because of your attendance, the event’s security has been obviously raised and a group of agents have been at the venue long before your arrival, checking every corner so when you’re finally there you can walk in without having to wait in the car.

The competition had several different fields so there will be more students awarded today, the room is full of winners, their proud professors and parents as well. You take your assigned seat and nervously look around, searching for any sign of your father, but there’s none, so you’re left with just waiting.

It’s killing you, so you text him but you get no response. He should have landed by now to make it in time, his silence is raising concern in you now.

“Harry? Can you please reach my father’s security team?” you ask and nodding he takes a few steps back as he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

Something is off, you can feel it in your guts and you fucking hate it. It takes forever for Harry to turn back to you, right when everyone starts clapping, because the dean has entered the stage to start the ceremony, but you’re only looking at Harry.

“What did they say?”

“Y/N, he is… He is not coming.”

“What?” It feels like a punch in your stomach and you wish Harry would say it’s just a joke, that he is about to walk in any moment, but the look on his face tells you it’s the truth.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you whisper as you turn back to face the stage, your throat closing up while you fight your tears.

It was the first thing you asked from him in so long. You’ve been there for him every step of the way and today you just needed your father to be here and be proud of you, but he ditched you. There’s been an ongoing joke on the internet that it will always be the country before you for your dad and you even laughed about it before, but now it’s your cruel reality.

You watch the winners get called on the stage one by one and the willingness to do the same dies in you with every passing moment.

“Y/N?” Harry taps your shoulder and you snap out of your thoughts only to realize your name has been called.

“Fuck,” you mumble as you stand from your seat, three agents moving with you, taking their places as you walk up to the stage and shake hands with the dean. Every first place winner has said a few words, so now it’s your turn at the microphone, but it’s like you’ve forgotten how to talk. Looking around you see the sea of faces, everyone is waiting for you to finally say something. Your eyes land on Harry and he gives you a tiny nod and somehow you find your voice.

You manage to say a few sentences about the importance of your study and thank the school for the opportunity before you walk off the stage. You’re expected to return to your seat, but instead, you’re heading to the restroom.

The dam breaks and tears start rolling down your face. You completely ignore the protocol, that an agent has to check the room before you enter and a hand pulls you back before you could rush into the ladies room.

“Y/N, I need to–”

“I don’t want to have the fucking toilet checked, I want to have some fucking privacy!” you snap at him, tears rolling down your face and you’re very close to start sobbing like a child. Harry looks back at you with shock on his face, this time he can’t even mask it, probably because he has never seen you like this.

“Okay, but–”

You don’t wait for him to finish, just push your way inside and don’t stop until you reach a sink that you can lean onto, the sobs finally erupting from your chest.

Betrayal, disappointment and helplessness wash over you, pulling you right into a possible emotional breakdown, though you’re still fighting it as you open the tap and splash some cold water into your face.

You didn’t realize Harry followed you inside, so when you feel a hand on your back you almost get a heart attack.

“Hey, it’s just me, it’s okay,” Harry holds his palms up when you jump back, gasping for air because of the panic and crying at the same time.

“I s-said I-I wanted p-privacy!” you sob shaking your head.

“I can’t just let you walk in here alone when you can barely breathe!”

“I don’t want to do this! I don’t fucking want to do this!” you cry, leaning your back against the cold, tiled wall as you let yourself fall apart for the first time in forever. You’ve been trying to be calm and collected as much as possible, but so much has piled up on you that your father not showing up was the last straw, the cherry on top.

“Y/N, calm down, take a deep breath, okay?” Harry tries to calm you down, but you just keep shaking your head and sobbing.

“He didn’t come! It was the only thing… I asked from him!”

“I’m sure he has a reason to–”

“I don’t fucking care! He doesn’t care about me! No one fucking does! I’m just… I have no one left! No one!”

“Don’t say that, Y/N. There are people who care about you.”

“Who? Who cares about me!” you scream at him, finally looking into his eyes and his gaze pierces into yours as he answers.

“Me. I care about you.”

“It’s your fucking job to protect me, it’s not the same!”

Your chest is heaving and you must look like a complete mess, but at this moment nothing really matters. Harry looks back at you like you just seriously hurt his feelings, like what you said was just as disappointing as your father not showing up. Long moments pass by without him saying anything and you start to think he’ll just walk out like he did that night you got drunk, but then he steps closer, definitely crossing the line of comfortable distance.

“If you think you’re just a job to me, you couldn’t be more wrong.”

“Don’t lie to me,” you beg in a whisper.

“Don’t call me a fucking liar,” he snaps back and it’s the first time you hear him swear. His pupils have swallowed his irises and his breathing is almost as wild as yours as he stares at you, practically burning a hole into your face.

“You left me that night. Without a word. I told you I wanted you and you walked out. That does give me a certain message.”

“You were drunk out of your mind, telling me to fuck you. I would have never forgiven myself if I touched you. I had no reason to believe you wouldn’t regret it in the morning and ask to never see me again. That would have been the end of my career and the end of… me.”

Though your cheeks are still soaked from your tears, his words have stopped your crying and now you can’t even tell what you’re feeling. You have no idea what to do or say, how to react and you can’t believe how this situation is turning out to be.

“I still want you the same,” you whisper, your mouth deciding on what to say because your brain is in complete shock.

Harry exhales sharply through his nose, his eyes fall closed and you can tell he is fighting himself, so you want to push him over the edge. Reaching up you cup his cheek in your hand, he doesn’t move at first, but then he leans into your touch and that’s when you push yourself away from the wall to get closer to him, but he pulls away.

There’s a second of devastation, but when he reaches to his earpiece you realize someone is talking to him.

“Copy. We’re in the restroom, give me the fastest route out.” He talks into his wrist before his eyes snap up to you.

“What happened?” you breathe out, feeling like your heart cannot take another shock at this moment, but you’ll have to deal with it anyway. He listens to the answer they give him through his com before talking to you.

“We need to get out. The guy who was at your apartment was spotted in the building.”

“What? Is he armed?” Harry takes your hand in his firm hold and gently, but confidently pulls you towards the door.

“We don’t know, he ran away, DeLuca and Jackson are after him, but we need to get you out of here.”

Your pulse is higher than ever, you feel dizzy and your brain is definitely shutting down, too much has happened in just minutes, you’re on survival mode. Harry must have noticed your state, because before he could open the door he turns to you, taking your face in his hands.

“It’s gonna be alright. I’m right here.”

“Okay,” you nod, blindly believing anything he says.

He then opens the door, steps out first to check what’s happening and returns to get you and you’re on your way to flee the building.

Circled by agents you follow Harry through hallways you’ve never been to until you somehow get to a back entrance. Your car is already there, waiting for you and you get in the back, lying down onto the seat, remembering that’s what Harry asked from you the last time you had to be rescued out of somewhere. You catch his face before he shuts the car door and he gives you a small nod.

You don’t experience much of what goes down at the venue, they take you to a safe spot and you wait there with three agents while the rest of your team is either in the venue or at your apartment, making sure there’s no one there.

Almost an hour goes by when Harry returns and you look at him, feeling on the edge to finally know something.

“We lost him. Your apartment is cleared, let’s get you home.”

You can tell he is beating himself up for letting the guy slip away and you already know he will put his walls back up.

He does one more check in the apartment himself before letting you inside.

“We are doubling the security for tonight and then we’ll talk about the changes tomorrow,” he lets you know, following you inside.

“Okay. Are you gonna stay in here?”

“Most likely,” he nods.

“Are you blaming yourself for tonight?”

He doesn’t answer, but his eyes talk for him.

“You couldn’t have spotted the guy anyway, you would have been with me either way.” You walk closer to him, but keep some distance, sensing his distress.

“I wasn’t focusing fully,” he hisses through his teeth.

“Nothing happened, you–”

“Y/N,” he stops you from talking. “I’m responsible for your safety. Today I put that responsibility behind my feelings and that cannot happen again.”

“Is this your way of saying… you don’t want me the way I want you?” Now you’re moving closer, you need to reduce the distance between the two of you, it’s like something is pulling you towards him, a force that you’re not strong enough to fight.

He stares at you for long seconds, taking a deep breath before he speaks up slowly in a calm manner.

“What I want does not matter when your safety is at risk. Let me… Let me do my job, let me do what I have to do to keep you safe. Please.”

It’s like he’s begging you, pleading for you to understand and… let go of him. And as much as you want it all to be different, you can’t go against his will and intentionally hurt him, there’s nothing you can do other than live with the pain. Like you always do.

“Okay,” you whisper and try your best to swallow back your tears, you’ve cried enough today.

Harry exhales, like he’s relieved you’re not putting up a fight and to your surprise he cradles the back of your head and pulls you closer so he can place a kiss to your forehead.

“I have to take care of a few things, Morrison will be in here until then, but I’ll be back soon, okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod weakly. His hand falls from the back of your head and you watch him turn around and walk out of the apartment.

You’re on autopilot. Have been for weeks.

Following the award ceremony things turned upside down once again. On one hand everyone has been on edge, because they couldn’t track the guy down, so your security has been doubled since then. Agents follow you everywhere, making it impossible to have a normal human interaction, not that you had plenty of friends to hang out with before. But still.

Your dad called that night and gave you some grand story about why he couldn’t make it to the ceremony, you told him it was fine, because you had no energy to lash out on him and you haven’t had a decent conversation with him since then. You can’t say it bothers you, it’s like there was a switch inside you that now allows you to give zero fucks about what your father does. You’ve canceled two events you were supposed to attend by his side, using the mystery intruder as an excuse, saying that you don’t feel safe out in public. You could tell he was annoyed, but didn’t question it.

And then there is the Harry situation. Or the lack of it, if you’d like. It’s been hurting like hell, but there’s nothing you can do other than keep your promise of letting go of him. It’s just really hard when you spend so much time with him and have him in your apartment almost every night.

You don’t watch TV anymore. You can’t bear being in the same room with him with no one else around. It’s hard enough to know he is on the other side of your bedroom door. You go back to coexisting, you silently follow his orders and not give him a headache when you know he already has a lot on his plate, he does his job in peace and everyone is happy.

Or not, but it doesn’t matter.

The school semester is nearing its end and you’re already planning to ask to stay here for the summer. You know your dad will flip, but you’ll at least try to make a deal with him to attend events in the summer if it means you don’t have to move back home that doesn’t even feel home anymore.

With your finals coming up you spend most of your time in the library. Surrounded by heavy books, hundreds of pages of notes, you’re working your ass off, because this is the only thing that could make you forget about your misery for a while.

It’s a Friday afternoon, almost evening and you’re still very much working on a paper in the almost entirely empty library. It’s a great time, because most students avoid the building on Fridays, more interested in parties than books, so it’s a lot more peaceful. It’s your way of distraction from the fact that you have to make an appearance tomorrow for your dad and you can’t bail out of it this time.

There are three agents near you and two more at the entrance, but Harry is not working now. He will probably take another night shift, not that you keep track of when he works…

You’re too focused to notice the group of people that come in, but when you spot a figure approaching you and the agents around you move instantly, you finally lift your head up from the book in front of you. You’re surprised to see Jaiden coming in your way, stopped by the agents.

“Jaiden?”

“Um, I just want to talk to her,” he says to the agents and you nod your head to let him through.

“What are you doing here?”

“Just wanted to give you something, thought you might be interested,” he shrugs as he passes you over a paper and with that he is already on his way, leaving you puzzled.

It’s a QR code so you grab your phone and read it and a website starts loading on your screen. When it finally loads, you feel all the blood rushing out of your head.

It’s a site basically dedicated to you, where people can send in anonymous comments and stories about you for everyone to read them. There are quite a few, a big chunk of them obviously from guys you’ve gone on dates with, dragging you through mud, a lot of them stating things that never even happened.

You just scroll and keep reading them in total disbelief and then you hear laughter. You look up and see Jaiden with a group of fratboys, having a blast seeing you go through the site before they hoard out of the library.

Your head is spinning and you feel like throwing up as you pack up your stuff as quickly as possible. It’s a struggle not to start sobbing on your way home, neither of the agents ask what’s wrong, because they are not your friend, they are there to keep you safe, but not from assholes, apparently. When you arrive to your apartment you see Harry already waiting by the door, but you avoid looking him in the eyes as you rush inside, wanting to lock yourself up in your room preferably forever.

The tears start rolling down your cheeks when you hear someone coming after you and you know it’s Harry.

“Y/N, is everything alright?”

“I’m fine,” you tell him, keeping your back facing him so he can’t see your face.

“Then look at me, please.”

You don’t move, just stand there, silently crying and there’s no way of fooling him, he knows you better than anyone and your shoulders are shaking as well. Slowly, you turn around for him to see your face.

“What happened?” he asks, stepping closer, but he still keeps some distance between the two of you.

“Nothing, I said I’m fine.”

“You’re obviously not fine, Y/N, don’t… don’t bullshit me, okay? Tell me what happened!”

He won’t give up, he won’t leave you alone until you say something so you pull your phone out of your pocket, open the website and hand it over to you. You watch him scroll for a minute before he looks up at you.

“We’re taking this down and we’ll find whoever did this,” he firmly says and before you could react he is already giving orders through his com. “They are on it. we’ll find them, don’t worry.” “Okay,” you breathe out and you turn around to lock yourself up in your bedroom, but he stops you.

“Y/N, wait!”

You look back at him, not even trying to mask how tired, defeated and hopeless you’re feeling. You must look like just a shadow of the person you used to be and the sight of you is probably just as depressing as you feel because it breaks the professional boundary that’s been between you and Harry.

He moves across the room and pulls you into his arms and you just start crying and sobbing uncontrollably while he holds you tight, gently rocking you from side to side to soothe you.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he murmurs into your hair and you just bury your face deeper into his neck, probably totally ruining his shirt, but neither of you cares about that right now.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” you sob, melting into his embrace, because it feels like the only safe place for you.

“I know. I wish I could help you. Tell me what I can do for you.”

“Just please don’t leave me, not tonight, please!” you beg and fully expect him to pull the wall back up, but instead he just holds you even tighter.

“I would never leave you, Y/N.”

The amount of times you had to fake laugh tonight is ridiculously over the roof. It’s another evening where you’re just a tool, something your father can brag about but you hold no influence or whatsoever.

You’re sipping on some champagne, but you’re careful with the alcohol consumption this time. Though you’re not sure how another situation like that last time would turn out now. Especially after that night after the website fiasco.

After soaking his shirt with your tears the two of you sat on the couch, you remained in Harry’s embrace and he talked you through it, until you momentarily forgot about what happened and somehow you ended up falling asleep. When you woke up you had a blanket over you and Harry was standing in his usual spot by the window, like a hound, watching out for danger. When he realized you woke up he walked you into your bedroom, tucked you in and sat beside you until you wófell back asleep.

The website was down by the morning and the school was informed about it as well, taking matters into their hands to punish those who created it. You didn’t want to know the names, you just wanted to forget about the whole thing.

That night changed things between you and Harry. You didn’t feel that wall between the two of you though there was still some distance, but it felt like you could overstep it easily. It’s like you’ve been dancing on a fence, still not sure which side you want to land on. You’re not planning to pressure him to choose, having him this close is already more than you had before so you’re happy to prolong it for as long as possible.

You have no idea where the conversation is heading around you, you’ve zoned out of it long minutes ago. It’s not that you don’t understand what politicians, influential people tend to talk about at events like this. It’s more about how you recognize some of them know nothing about the field they work at and still hold the power.

And you lost interest too.

Holding your champagne flute your eyes wander over the room until they settle on Harry. He is by the window, what a shocker, examining the sea of guests around you, watching out like a hawk until his gaze meets yours and his expression softens.

“Bored,” you mouth to him and you catch the smirk he tries hard to cover up.

“You got this,” he mouths back to which you frown, making him laugh.

His laugh.

You’ve been gifted with it more in the past few days than in the time you’ve known him and it’s definitely one of your favorite things in the entire world.

“Break?” you mouth once again and he just nods, moving instantly.

Five minutes later you’re out on the balcony with him, two guards standing by the door inside.

“This should be considered torture,” you sigh.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” he teases you.

“I’m not, I hate it here. Look around.” You stand beside him, staring inside at the sea of guests. “What am I doing here?”

“Supporting your dad.”

“I think he is fine without me,” you shrug, nodding towards him, he is standing in a circle of men, all of them pretending to be having a marvelous time, but you know for a fact at least two of those men would backstab him the first given chance. It’s all so pretentious and you’re tired of trying to be part of it for him.

“What would you like to do?” Harry asks.

“What do you mean?”

“If you could do anything, any job, anywhere, what would it be?”

You’ve never really thought of that before. A life that’s entirely what you want it to be is so far out of your reach that you never let yourself daydream about it. So now you take some time to think it through before sharing it with Harry.

“I would probably have a riding school,” is what you tell him at last. He looks at you surprised.

“Like… horses?”

“Yeah,” you smile softly, keeping your eyes ahead, staring at the people inside. “I used to ride a lot when I was smaller and I loved it a lot.”

“But you never do it anymore, why?”

“I wasn’t exceptional in it, never won any competitions so my dad thought I shouldn’t keep doing it. He talked me into quitting and I started learning French instead.”

“You speak French?” he asks in shock.

“No,” you chuckle, finally looking at him. “I was mad at him for making me quit horse riding so I never put any effort into my French classes, I can barely introduce myself.”

“Wow, such a rebel,” he chuckles quietly.

“What about you?”

“I don’t speak French.”

“I know that,” you roll your eyes. “I meant, what would you want to do if you could do anything?”

He curls his lips into his mouth as he thinks about it, his eyebrows furrowed.

“I think I would be living on a farm.”

“A farm?”

“Yeah. You know, growing stuff and keeping animals. I love the thought of growing everything I need.”

“That sounds lovely,” you smile at him. “I hope you get to do that one day.”

“I do too,” he nods and the two of you just stand there, watching the mingling and dancing guests.

It’s a moment you want to last longer, you feel close to him, like you’ve finally jumped off that fence and you’re running away. Together.

So at last you decide to give him a little push.

“I wish we could be dancing there too.”

Your voice is quiet, barely audible through the noises coming from inside and when he doesn’t say anything for a while you start to think he didn’t even hear it, or that he is ignoring your words because he doesn’t want to deal with them.

But then his hand gently takes yours, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I would… love that.”

Your chest feels like bursting and you wish you could just jump into his arms, but you know you can’t. So instead, you just stand there, enjoying this tiny, hidden moment that’s burning into your memories forever.

It was hard to focus on your conversations before, but now, after you’ve shared that special moment with Harry it’s kind of impossible.

You’re making your rounds around, chit-chatting and smiling as pleasantly as possible, but in your mind you’re still out on the balcony, holding hands with Harry.

Talking about him, you haven’t seen him in a little while. You look around, searching for him once again, probably for the millionth time in the past ten minutes, but you see no sign of him.

“Morrison, where’s Styles?” you ask the agent beside you.

“Your father asked to see him, Miss,” he informs you.

“What? Why?”

“I don’t know, Miss, I’m sorry.”

You try not to think much of it, but when you finally spot him in the crowd your stomach drops, because his expression is anxious and angry at the same time, though he is trying hard to mask it. But you know him too well.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, instantly ignoring the conversation you’ve been in before.

“Can’t talk right now, but we better leave.”

You don’t question him, just follow, though the way he is acting now is freaking you out. He is right next to you as you make your way out of the room, getting farther and farther from the rest of the guests.

“What happened?” you finally ask when you’re walking down the hallway that leads to the entrance.

“I don’t want to turn you against your father,” he answers, but now you’re just even more keen on knowing what’s going on.

“Harry, tell me!” you demand, stopping abruptly.

Not too willingly, but he comes to a halt as well, turning to face you as he leans closer.

“Your father kept it a secret that they got a letter yesterday in which someone threatened to hurt you today. He kept it from us, because he knew you wouldn’t come tonight if you found out.”

“What?” All the blood rushes out of your face as his words process.

“He strengthened security for your sake and thought it would be alright, but I don’t want to risk it, we need to get you somewhere safe until we get to the bottom of this whole thing.”

“Okay,” you nod, a shiver running down your spine at just the thought of that letter your father hid from you.

You’re nearing the exit when your father’s voice beams through the hallway, just when you’re already seeing your car outside.

“Y/N! Where are you going?!”

He is rushing towards you with his own security team circling him and you can’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

“I’m leaving!”

“And you didn’t think of at least saying goodbye?”

“I’m not doing anything for you anymore. Not when you’ve intentionally put me in risk just so you could use me at another event!”

The look he gives Harry says it all. He is pissed that Harry told you about the threat, that someone went against his will.

“It’s not that serious, Honey. We have everything under control.”

“Is that so? Then who sent the letter?”

“We don’t know it yet, but—”

“What if it’s the same guy that’s been stalking me? What if it really is something serious?” You’re finally lashing out on him, something you probably should have done a lot earlier, but you didn’t have the balls. You’re done being the obedient, supportive daughter to a father that’s not returning it at all.

“We doubled security and I have people working on it! No need to–”

“Don’t tell me what I need and don’t need to do! I don’t feel safe anywhere anymore! You knew I would panic if I found out about it but you chose to hide it so you could use me tonight to show people how great of a family we are when in reality, you give no fucks about me!”

“Y/N, that is not true. I didn’t want to stress you out, that’s why I didn’t tell you.”

Lie. That is such a big fucking lie.

“I’m done. I’m done with you. Call me when you’re ready to be my father.”

Turning around you’re on your way out to the car, you hear your dad calling after you, but Harry stops him and it’s the first time you hear him talk so harshly to your father.

And then all hell breaks loose. But it’s not because of Harry’s way of talking to the president.

You’re approaching the car confidently, eager to get away from your dad and the madness that surrounds him, Harry is following you right behind and as you keep your gaze on the car suddenly you realize.

It’s not yours.

Everything happens so fast, but at the same time it’s like it’s in slow motion.

A guy jumps out of the car and points a gun right at you. The agents around you launch forward, but he is several feet away, so they don’t reach him before he pulls the trigger and shoots at you. In that moment you believe you’re about to die. Gasping in surprise you completely freeze, but then get pushed to the side with so much force you smash against the wall, pain jolting through your left arm instantly as the shot of the gun rings in your ear.

You fall to the floor the same time the agents tackle the shooter. From the corner of your eyes you see how your ad is being dragged away from the scene before he could get hurt as well, even though he is shouting your name, it’s protocol to rescue him and take him to a safe place right away.

As you look to your right you see another person on the floor and your heart skips a beat when you realize that it’s Harry, and a pool of blood is underneath you, growing rapidly each second.

He took the shot that was meant for you.

The rest is a blur. You start screaming and try to reach him while two agents pull you up from the floor to take you away from the scene as well, your arm hurts like hell, but you just keep screaming for Harry.

At last you catch his face, you see him gasping for air, pure panic and fear all over his face, he looks at you one last time and you see a tear rolling down his face before you’re dragged away.

The constant beeping. It just keeps going and going and it’s driving him crazy.

Crazy enough to finally open his eyes.

Harry is more than confused about his surroundings, the hospital room looks sterile, but nice, very nice if you ask him, so he knows he is at some kind of private facility. It takes a couple of moments for the pain to set in but when it does, it comes with all the memories as well.

He was shot in his chest when he pushed you out of the way, he remembers the pain he felt then which was a lot worse and more intense than the dull, pressure like feeling in his chest right now. He remembers lying on the floor and looking at you as two agents pulled you away and he knows he said his goodbye in that moment, because he was convinced he would die.

He didn’t.

Now he is lying in a hospital bed, the machines hooked onto him keep beeping and tracking his vitals and when he turns his head slightly to the left the beeping intensifies because he sees you sleeping in an armchair next to his bed.

You look awfully uncomfortable, but still breathtakingly beautiful, your left arm is in a cast and you’re cradling it to your chest. As if you could sense his wandering gaze, you start moving around and you blink your eyes open at last, seeing that Harry is finally awake.

“Hey,” he breathes out, barely finding the energy to speak, but you burst into tears right away as you fall forward, one hand coming to the side of his head, the other one holding his hand on the mattress.

“You’re awake, oh my God, I really thought I lost you!” You sob and try to take in the sight of him conscious and talking, something you didn’t think you’d ever see again when you saw him lying on the floor three days ago.

“I’m okay, I’m right here,” he exhales as his other hand comes to take your hand by his face. “How are you? Are you okay?”

“Harry, you were literally shot and you’re asking if I’m okay?” you laugh through your tears, finally cracking a smile from him as well.

“That doesn’t mean I’m not worried about you.”

“I’m fine, just broke my hand, but it’s okay. How are you feeling? Does it hurt?”

“Kind of. But it’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad? The bullet missed your heart by one millimeter. Doctors said it’s a miracle you survived.”

“Well, at least I know I’m not bulletproof,” he tries to joke and it makes you laugh and that was his only intention.

You’ve stopped crying, but you wouldn’t move from beside him. You’ve been in this room since they brought him out of surgery and refused to leave since then. He reaches over and wipes your tears off your cheeks before cradling your face in his palm. You gladly lean into his touch and then turn your head to kiss into his hand without hesitation.

You fill him in on what happened. Tell him about how he was rushed to hospital and the guy was caught and it was confirmed he sent the letter and he was the one stalking you at your apartment and award ceremony as well. You were afraid it was someone you knew, but apparently he was just some psycho who wanted to hurt your dad by hurting you.

It was a wakeup call to your father. One that he desperately needed after the stunts he has pulled lately, so you had a long talk outside of Harry’s room when he found out you were here with him. He apologized for everything and promised to be better. You told him his words mean nothing, you need to see the change in his actions.

He has visited every day since then and you discussed the future as well. A future that will bring lots of change.

“You saved my life,” you quietly say, still kind of in shock about what happened.

“I would do it again,” he replies.

“You won’t be able to work again because of it,” you tell him. The bullet grazed his lung as well and the doctors said he might never be able to reach the same physical limits like before.

“It doesn’t matter,” he shakes his head. “I didn’t lose you and that’s what matters.”

His words sink in and you have to fight your tears again as you rest you lean closer, until your faces are just inches away.

“I don’t want to feel again the way I did when I thought you died. I don’t want to keep my distance, I… I love you and I want to be with you.”

Harry exhales heavily, his eyes fall closed and when they open again you get lost in them.

“I love you too. And I want to be with you too, always have.”

You let out a laugh that’s mixed with relief, happiness, pain and so much anticipation before you push closer and finally press your lips to his.

Years of built up tension and passion is set free as you kiss him and he returns it just as eagerly. It’s not at all how you imagined your first kiss, not with a cast on your arm or Harry lying in a hospital bed after being shot, but none of it matters in this moment, only him. There’s no more playing around, pushing each other away, this is end game and you both know it.

“So…” you mumble against his lips, “Will you move to a farm with me?”

“Moving? Aren’t we rushing a little ahead?” he chuckles, brushing some loose strands of hair out of your face before pecking your lips shortly.

“No. I don’t want to waste any more time. Let’s do what we always wanted to do.”

“What about your life? Your dad?”

“I already told him I’m stepping back from my first daughter duties. He is okay with it.”

“Really?”

“I mean, he doesn’t have much saying in what I do after almost getting me killed,” you joke, though you both know how serious the matter was.

“And you’re sure you want to move on… with me?”

You smile at him softly, it’s so typical he is questioning your decision even after everything that happened. He surely needs some time to adjust to this new version of you and him where there’s no wall between the two of you, just love.

Leaning down you kiss his lips softly.

“There’s no one else I would do it with, Harry.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles au #bodyguard!harry

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ilovelovewithallmyheart · 1 year ago

Text

Back When We Were Younger

TW: Mentions of drowning, throwing up and fight scenes

“𝘿𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙮 𝙝𝙞𝙢.”

𝙃𝙞𝙨 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙨𝙚𝙩. 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙙. 𝙃𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙤𝙛𝙛 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙛𝙤𝙡𝙙, 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙞𝙢𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙫𝙪𝙡𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚.

“𝘽𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚.”

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Fate is a strange thing. The stronger it tries to force two people apart, the more those two people are bound to be together. Even as misunderstandings last and the years pile on, Gojo and Y/n are bound to meet once again. And once they do, something beautiful blossoms in their neglected garden.

Hey guys! It's the author here. I'm imploring you guys to give this a read. It's actually really, really beautiful. I cried a bit while writing the end. There's so much angst, and it all gets tied up in a little ribbon in the end. So please read it all!

If you guys have any requests for one-shots, please request!

Word count: 6k

Time to read: 30 minutes

Okay i swear I'm terrible at writing one shots but it's so so so worth it!

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“Don’t marry him.”

His face was set. Hard. He took off his blindfold, making himself look more sincere and vulnerable.

“Be with me.”

*12 years ago*

“What’s your type, Geto?” Shoko suddenly asked.

The entire second-year class was sprawled out on the floor, tired and flattened out by Yaga’s training program.

The entire class seemed to cease breathing due to how sudden the question was.

Geto chuckled warmly. “Where did that come from?”

“C’mon Geto answer the question!” Gojo swatted Geto from his position on the floor.

“Gojo, you answer too.” Y/n giggled.

“Huuuh!”

Shoko smiled knowingly at Y/n. As Y/n’s best friend, she knew about Y/n’s decade-long crush on Gojo.

A fruitless crush that was terribly one-sided.

Even after all these years Gojo was still childishly clueless.

“Hmmm.” Geto’s deep voice seemed to rumble. “I would say…someone that is intelligent. A girl that is witty.”

“BOH-RING.” Gojo cupped his hands to his mouth like a megaphone.

“I prefer a tall busty woman with a big ass.” From Y/n’s spot on the floor, she saw Gojo wink and lick his lips at Geto.

This was the most Y/n ever found out up to that point about Gojo’s type.

And, to Y/n’s absolute dismay, she was definitely NOT tall, busty, and nor of big ass.

A beat paused, broken by Shoko making an understanding sound. “Yeaaah? I never took you for that kind of guy.”

Another pause, in which Shoko tried to catch Y/n’s eye. Y/n smiled at Shoko jokingly, but Shoko knew Y/n well enough to know that she was crushed.

“What? Every guy wants that kind of girl!” Gojo put his arms up in defense, further adding to Y/n’s bad mood.

Great. Now he basically just said that I’ll die unloved.

Y/n stole a glace at Gojo. He looked deep in thought, his cerulean blue eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“Powerful.”

“Hmm?” Y/n queried.

Gojo turned his head to look a Y/n.

His feet were pointed to the right of the room, while Y/n was facing left. Nonetheless, their heads were still right next to eachother, only inches apart. “I’ll only date women who are stronger or on par with me in power.” He grinned, and Y/n couldn’t help smiling too. The limited space between them caused a roaring in Y/n’s ears and she quickly turned her head away before Gojo could see her bright red blush forming.

The words suddenly sunk in.

“Bruh.” Y/n died inside.

“Dude-“

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA” Shoko busted out laughing.

“At this point, you’re better off dating yourself.” Geto wheezed, and Gojo good-naturedly laughed as well.

Y/n was the only one not laughing. As the weakest sorceress in the class, this was not a laughing matter.

Y/n wanted to leap out of the classroom window and drown herself in the river in the moonlight.

“Girls’ turn.” Gojo pressed, after everyone settled down.

Shoko sighed. “I’m not that romantic.”

“Oh come on Shoko!” Y/n whined. Shoko sighed again. “Someone that…is rich.”

“Eyyyyy that’s my girl.” Gojo sat up, and leaned on his arms. Shoko immediately shot up too, glaring at Gojo with intense hate. “Never call me that again.”

Gojo and Shoko always bickered, and that set them off once again. Over the loud yelling and back-to-back quips, Geto sat up too and moved closer to Y/n. They were the grounded duo, the people that were the most sane. “What about you, Y/n?”

Y/n sat up slowly. The thing is, her type was the complete opposite of Gojo’s character.

“Someone that can settle down with me and start a family.” She smiled at Geto, appreciating him. Y/n was often forgotten in the class, not having any characteristics that were cool. She blended in with the crowd. But Geto would always seem to find her, even when she was surrounded by a thousand other people.

Somewhere in the back of Y/n’s mind, she still believed that Gojo could settle down with her.

Geto looked up in thought. “That first year seems like a good match. The blondie. What was his name…Kento Nanami!”

Y/n immediately looked over at Shoko. From day one she was preaching that she should go out with Nanami. Shoko winked.

Y/n turned back to Geto. “You think?” She laughed and blushed a little.

Gojo saw Shoko’s wink and stopped arguing. Then he turned to Y/n and saw her blush. A few seconds passed when he could feel a deep falling sensation in his chest, then it was gone.

For the next few weeks Y/n felt disturbed. Gojo’s type deeply ruined her peace. She needed closure, something that she could tick off on his list to make her feel better. She could try to do squats, but that was about it. Her cursed technique was a lost cause.

Changing the shape of air.

What a lame excuse for a technique.

It was a Saturday night and Gojo was off in Tokyo doing God knows what. Geto locked himself in his room, probably reading a poetry book and Shoko was out with friends.

Y/n was in the training room. She had nowhere else to be. To pass the time Y/n played around with her technique a little bit. She condensed the air tightly and pushed the mannequins around, the air block being invisible. That was the thing with her technique. No glory to it at all. It was all invisible, and her cursed energy was invisible too.

“I’ll only date women who are stronger or on par with me in power.”

How can I become stronger? How can I stop being so weak?

“You need to push yourself, Y/n. Force yourself to do things out of the realm of possibility.” Yaga always said.

“I need to push.” Y/n concentrated on her words.

PUSH.

She literally condensed the air even tighter than she used to. The air was so tight it was super solid. “I wonder…” She thought aloud. She sharpened the end of the block. Made it thinner.

Then, she sent it clean through the mannequin’s neck. It fell to the floor with a thud.

“Holy crap.”

She tried it again. And again. Slice, slice, slice. All the mannequins were now headless by a range of different air weapons. Knives, swords, katanas, multiple weapons at once too.

For the first time in Y/n’s life, she felt powerful.

It was all so easy. She could slice the necks clean off the curses without any effort, and they never even knew she was there. They didn’t even know what killed them.

Y/n felt the power surge through her. She knew, deep down, that she was powerful. More powerful than Shoko. More powerful than Geto.

That final push was all that she needed to unlock the chamber that held her full potential.

And it terrified her.

A person so used to having nothing was now granted everything.

Y/n didn’t think of herself as a masochist, but she hid her power. Pretended to be the same. She didn’t want things to change.

She also knew deep down that if she revealed her power, Gojo would finally see her.

And that was the real masochistic part of Y/n.

She didn’t want to be seen that way by Gojo. A person only with power. She wanted him to fall for her, not with the power she held.

In the Kyoto sister exchange event, she purposefully got out early and pouted about it in the end. She purposefully stuffed up her one-on-one fights. She purposefully didn’t say a word when Gojo proudly announced that he mastered his domain expansion, knowing that she mastered her's months ago.

She felt wrong about skipping out on hard missions, like when Gojo and Geto had to escort Tengen’s Star Plasma Vessel.

(SEASON 2 SPOILERS AHEAD)

She felt terrible when the mission failed. A lingering thought in her mind reminded her that if she was on that mission, the Vessel wouldn’t have died.

She felt horrible when Gojo lay on the floor, about to die.

She hated herself for allowing Yaga to usher her and Shoko into a safe room when she should’ve been out there fighting.

And she always blamed herself for Geto turning over to the dark side.

*2 months later*

Y/n sat on the veranda late at night eating ice cream mochi. She couldn’t sleep. The guilt wasn’t as bone-shattering as it was, but it still throbbed from time to time. And this was one of those nights.

Gojo was still strong. He still put on a brave face for her and Shoko.

And Shoko and Y/n never spoke out about those nights when Gojo went missing and returned with his clothes all ruffled and hickeys on his neck. That was his coping mechanism.

“Isn’t it strange, Shoko?” Y/n said vacantly to Shoko one night.

“What is?” Shoko watched with narrowed eyes as Gojo sauntered back to his dorm, clearly drunk and dishevelled.

“Isn’t it ironic how one person’s coping mechanism is the one thing causing another person to not be able to cope at all?” Y/n thought about that sentence from time to time. And she thought about that sentence while she ate her mochi.

Gojo was at that point in his relationship where he never even came back at night at all. He never spoke of her, never brought her out to meet Y/n and Shoko. She wasn’t ever mentioned. There was never a name. Y/n just referred to her in her head as ‘the other woman’.

On that mochi feast night Lana Del Rey’s ‘The Other Woman’ played on Y/n’s spotify shuffle the exact moment Gojo swayed through the Jujutsu Tech Gates. (recommended that you play it while you read)

“I wonder what she’s like.” Y/n said softly to herself. A burning sensation filled her chest, the same one that always came when she thought about the other woman.

He walked drunkenly over to his dorm while the music played.

♩The other woman has time to manicure her nails♩

♩The other woman is perfect where her rival fails♩

♩And she’s never seen with pin curls in her hair anywhere♩

In order to get to his dorm, he needed to pass Y/n’s dorm. He staggered towards her and she clenched her fists.

♩The other woman enchants her clothes with French perfume♩

♩The other woman keeps fresh cut flowers in each room♩

As Gojo turned right to his dorm building he swayed and fell.

Y/n immediately sprang up to help him.

She lifted his limp body off the floor and cradled his head. She observed his outfit. A button-up that was buttoned up wrong, jeans that were zipped but not buttoned, a red angry hickey on his neck and red lipstick marks all over his mouth and chest.

He looked at her through heavy lids, his beautiful, beautiful blue eyes roaring with the ocean’s waves.

♩And there are never toys that’s scattered everywhere♩

“Gojo, come on, stand up.” Y/n attempted to heave Gojo upwards, but he groaned in protest. Seeing Gojo in that kind of state with another woman’s lipstick all over him made her want to pick him up and throw him into the river, and then drown herself alongside him.

♩And when her old man comes to call♩

♩He finds her waiting like a lonesome queen♩

Y/n gave up on trying to move him and just sat with his head in her lap. She stared into his eyes and he dimly stared back. She sighed. “Did she kick you out? You usually stay at your girlfriend’s house all night.”

A glint returned to his eyes. He grimly smiled. “She’s not my girlfriend.” He replied in a thick voice. The first thing he said all night. “And it’s none of your business.” A harsher cut to his words sent a fresh wave of despair to wash over Y/n.

♩’Cause to be by her side♩

“You forgot to turn your Infinity on” Y/n realised with a start. She glared at Gojo. “That was stupid and reckless of you.” The first time she touched him. And it was because he wanted to get touched by the other woman.

“No,” He murmured lowly.

“I never have my infinity on when I’m with you.”

♩It’s such a change from old routine♩

Y/n’s mouth parted in shock and her arms lifted hesitantly. Strength seemed to return to Gojo’s limbs and he stood up and looked at Y/n before turning to his dorm.

Y/n was still on the ground as she watched Gojo walk to his dorm, his back to her.

♩The other woman will always cry herself to sleep♩

♩The other woman will never have his love to keep♩

♩And as the years go by, the other woman will spend her life alone♩

The next week came and Y/n felt even worse about Geto, and now about Gojo. She was confused about what he meant by his infinity, and even more so when Gojo acted like nothing happened. She was staring at the moon as it slowly began its ascent into the sky.

‘The Other Woman’ was playing again, and was just about to end.

It felt like a knife was stabbed into her heart and twisted left and right at what she saw next.

Gojo.

Leaving the high school with another buttoned-up shirt, this time with a wrapped-up gift.

♩Alone♩

*10 years later*

Y/n left the Jujutsu world as soon as she graduated. She left as a grade 4 sorcerer, meaning she wasn’t of any use to the higher-ups anyway. She got a job as a pharmacist and had been living peacefully and happily ever since. She still contacted Shoko occasionally, but she cut all contact with Gojo.

She never attempted to contact him, and he never attempted to contact her.

It was better that way, Y/n believed. He was a ghost of her sorceress past, a dark and twisted part of her life that she decided to leave behind. Y/n never bothered to think about her feelings about him. In the past 10 years, her feelings for Gojo didn’t fade, truthfully. They were beaten down and thrown to the side, ignored for a decade.

In truth, she had seen someone lately. A gorgeous tall man called Asahi who was the CEO of a technology company. She didn’t think anything of it.

It wasn’t that big of a deal.

He’s just a billionaire, that’s it.

It was just one date.

But one date turned into two dates.

Two dates turned into three.

Three dates turned into four.

Four dates turned into a casual stay at the Peninsula Tokyo (one of the most expensive luxury hotels).

It came to a point where the relationship was becoming serious, and it scared Y/n. At the point they were headed…it was a clear road to marriage. She couldn’t even count the number of dates they had gone on anymore. And she had no idea why she wasn’t excited.

The next date was to an expensive restaurant in Tokyo, the day before Christmas.

Y/n got ready beforehand. She put on a red dress, and black heels and styled her hair in curls.

(Jujutsu Kaisen Zero Movie Spoilers Ahead!!)

She did a quick once over in the mirror and was overall happy with what she looked like. She got two notifications on her phone.

Asahi:

Can’t wait to have dinner with you. Are you a fan of soft-shell crabs?

Y/n smiled and replied:

That sounds great, but that’s not on the menu?

She checked her other message. Little did she know that that message would change her life forever.

Shoko:

Right now. Shinjuku. Urgent.

Y/n’s heart dropped to her stomach. This could only mean one thing. Jujutsu chaos. And if Shoko asked for help from a Grade 4 sorceress, it was urgent. Y/n didn’t even change out of her dress. She found a Fox mask to cover her face and urgently sent a text to Asahi cancelling the date.

Public transport wouldn’t get her there in time. She had a hunch. So, with her red dress billowing behind her and expensive heels click-clacking she jumped from roof to roof, her curled hair streaming behind her in the moonlight.

Meanwhile, Asahi got her text and sadly clutched the small black box containing a diamond ring inside.

The skyline of Shinjuku was horrid. Dozens of low-level curses flew in, blocking out the sky. Gruesome and oozing, Y/n watched in terror, her feet rooted to the spot. She shakily stepped to the ledge of the roof and watched as Jujutsu Sorcerors and students alike fought with all their might. The night breeze made her shiver in her dress.

Then, taking a deep breath, she created hundreds of blades in the air, more than she had ever done before.

“Oh?” A student said, from down below. “Kaeru, is it just me, or did the air just get really thin here?”

Y/n took a deep breath.

Then she pushed the blades forward, stabbing and decapitating hundreds of curses all at once.

Students dodged in terror as the bodies plunged from the sky, while Sorcerors stared in amazement.

“Who did that?”

“Was it Gojo?”

“I can’t detect any cursed energy,” Nanami mumbled. He easily dodged the severed head of a curse. He inspected the head but found no trace of cursed residue.

He scanned the skyline, and his eyes widened. A woman, in a red dress with a mask on.

(I just made this bit up, so the spoilers are over for the movie!)

A fresh wave of monsters appeared. This time, they were even more powerful than the rest. “Special grade.” Y/n’s eyes widened in horror. Giant, deformed curses stumbled in, grabbing sorcerers and ripping them apart. The blood of a young student splayed out onto the streets.

Y/n remembered Geto, and how she failed him. She remembered being young and weak. Then she remembered her power.

She jumped off the roof and summoned a large blade to slice through the giant’s head in a second. She then landed on the giant’s head as it hit the ground. More giants stumbled in. “EVERYONE GET BACK!” Y/n roared. Registered Sorcerers ushered the students and themselves back in awe. Nanami took off his goggles, his jaw slack.

Four special-grade giants thundered in, their roars cut short by their bodies being sliced to shreds spontaneously by a range of hand movements made by Y/n. The slices fell to the floor with a large thud and Y/n was covered in Curse Blood. The crowd of sorcerors were silent. Y/n panted heavily, then turned to the crowd. “Does anyone know where the really deadly curses are?”

“Who are you?” A student asked. Y/n shook her head. Nanami cleared his throat. “With Gojo.” She turned towards him. Her eye twitched behind the mask. “And where might he be?”

“The roof of the Shinjuku Center Building.”

Y/n nodded. “Thank you." Then she was off.

She thundered down the streets.

“With Gojo.”

She mentally prepared herself to meet him again. That night with the mochi was the last time they actually spoke one-on-one. 10 years ago.

He won’t know it’s me, right?

A boom erupted above Y/n, and debris rained down from above. She looked up and saw a cockroach curse with a dozen eyes attack Gojo relentlessly. She saw him dodge and attack. She’d observed Gojo training enough times in the past to know that he’d tired out. His attacks were less sharp and the dodges required more energy.

She created air platforms ascending to the roof and began climbing up. Gojo was too focused on the battle to notice her. Y/n paused for a moment. Gojo looked different.

He was taller, but more muscular and less lanky. His face was sharper and less soft-looking. But his eyes, they were always and forever the same eyes that she fell in love with when she was seven.

The cockroach lunged at Gojo and he didn’t react fast enough. Springing into action, Y/n jumped in front of him just in time to push the cockroach back with an air barrier. In a spur-of-the-moment decision, she decided to show off. She stuck a dozen sharp hooks into the cockroach and it bellowed out a scream. Then she extended out her arms in a sharp movement and the hooks dislodged, ripping out the flesh of the cockroach’s head into hundreds of pieces. It fell to the floor in a splat.

Silence.

She was panting, hard. She turned backwards to see Gojo with his eyes wide open. They darted over to the cockroach’s corpse, then fixed on Y/n. He looked like he just saw a ghost. Y/n felt her hands itching to rip the mask off her face. She clenched her fists and jumped off the building.

Gojo stepped over to the ledge of the building and watched her disappear into Shinjuku’s streets.

Y/n.

On Christmas day (the next day) Asahi proposed to Y/n at their rescheduled dinner.

She said yes.

On New Year’s day, Y/n was working the overnight shift at her pharmacy. Technically, it was already the New Year. Y/n looked at her watch: 2:24 am.

She sighed. No one ever came to the pharmacy at this hour. Idly, she examined the diamond ring Asahi gave her. It sparkled in all of its 18 carats. She couldn’t even fathom how much that would’ve cost.

In truth, she was happy that she was getting married to Asahi. She just wasn’t…thrilled. As a little girl, she pictured her wedding a billion times; the excitement, the giddiness and pictured that she would wake up next to the love of her life for the rest of her days. It didn’t feel at all like how she pictured it. It felt normal. To be fair, maybe the reason was because she always pictured Gojo next to her on that wedding aisle.

The bell on the pharmacy door rang suddenly. She immediately put her ring in her pocket. She didn’t want to lose it or have it slide off her finger.

“Welcome to-“ Her voice faltered at the end.

“Happy New Year Y/n.” Gojo was dressed in a warm coat, his hands tucked into his pockets. He had sunglasses on, even though it was the dead of night.

Y/n couldn’t believe that Gojo was there, at her small pharmacy.

“Happy New Year Gojo.” She smiled and put on her best clueless voice. “Man, I haven’t seen you in 10 years!” She let out a slightly hysterical laugh.

“I bought this on the way here.” He placed a stuffed toy cockroach on the counter. Y/n stared at the cockroach, gobsmacked.

Is he trying to be funny?

“Oh haha!!” Another hysterical laugh. “That’s random.” She smiled and grabbed the cockroach, fiddling with it, refusing to look at Gojo. She could feel his eyes boring into her.

He yanked the cockroach out from her arms.

“Thank you.” Gojo’s voice was sincere. Y/n finally looked up.

“Thank you for saving me, Y/n.” He placed the cockroach back on the counter. “Haha from what?” She realised regretfully that her voice sounded extremely strained and fake. Gojo smiled wide easily. “How did you get so strong? It was SUPER cool what you did back there.” He hoisted himself up on the counter, and faced Y/n.

He’s going to be here a while.

Y/n smiled.

“I was always like that.” Gojo’s smile was immediately wiped from his face. “I just…didn’t reveal it.” “Ohhh, really?” He looked deep in thought. “You know, you could be as strong as me!” He dangled his legs childishly. Y/n scoffed and swatted Gojo’s legs. “No way.”

“Yes way.” he grabbed Y/n’s shoulders. “Why were you in a dress though?”

Y/n hesitated but decided to go for it.

“I was supposed to go on a date with my fiance.” She smiled painfully. Gojo’s arms went limp and fell from her shoulders. Y/n swallowed a lump in her throat. “Would you like to see the ring?” Gojo regained his happy face with difficulty. He nodded.

She took out the heavily diamond-clad ring from her pocket and handed it to Gojo. He stared at it in his hand. “Wow haha Cubic Zirconia! He couldn’t get diamonds?” He smiled like a puppy at Y/n. “No, it’s 18-carat diamonds.” His mouth twitched. “Haha, he must be rich then!” He didn’t look like he was laughing.

“Yeah, he’s a part of the Asahi family.” She took the ring back and put it in her pocket. A vein was popping in his forehead. “Yes, but I’m a part of the Gojo Clan.”

Y/n smiled blankly at Gojo. “yes…I know.” She deadpanned.

He got off the counter abruptly. “See you later!” He smiled sweetly again.

Y/n nodded cautiously, unsure of when ‘later’ was.

On the way home, Gojo punched a bronze statue to the floor.

Three days passed with no Gojo.

Y/n didn’t have work that day and decided to stay and chill at her apartment. The cockroach plushie from Gojo was placed on the couch.

The doorbell rang, and Y/n got up to answer it. “pizza pizza pizza!” she muttered happily. She opened the door, and there stood Gojo. He had to tilt his head down to fit in the doorframe. She frowned. “You’re not pizza.”

“No I’m not.” He still smiled. “Come on, I’ve planned a fun day ahead!” He grabbed Y/n and sped out of the building. “Where are we going?” Y/n stumbled after him. He looked back and grinned. “Our old high school!”

“Wow, I’ve missed this place” Y/n looked around the old high school. It looked exactly like how it used to 11 years ago. Nostalgia hit her like a train. The river that she felt tempted to drown herself in at least twice a day, and the famous dorms. She stared at the spot where Gojo collapsed and fell, then carried on.

“I teach here.” Gojo stuck his tongue out playfully. “Oh wow…”

Gojo guided her to their old classroom. She flashed back to that moment 11 years ago when their class was on the floor, talking about their types. Back when everything was rosy. “Why did you bring me here?” Y/n asked. “Because,” Gojo sat on the teacher’s desk, “we are going to catch up.”

“Where were you for 10 years?” He took off his blindfold.

They ended up talking for the entire day.

Everything felt like how it was when they were teenagers. Laughing easily, remembering funny moments. They ended up on the floor just like that day.

A bug landed on Gojo’s chest and Y/n quickly swatted it away. “Oh.” She observed. “What?” Gojo hummed. “Your infinity,” she frowned. “It isn’t on.” He turned to face her. “I told you. When I’m with you it’s never on.”

She smiled. “I remember that.” Y/n was glad Gojo could remember it too. After he acted like nothing happened, Y/n thought that was just her imagination. The butterflies that she knew all too well fluttered in her stomach.

Shoko walked through the halls and spotted the two of them, sprawled out over the door. She grinned. “Oh, Shoko! You’re here?” Gojo patted a spot on the floor next to him. Shoko gave Gojo a knowing look. She knew that Gojo was aware she was on campus. He just wanted alone time with Y/n.

“Isn’t this just like old times?” Y/n commented after Shoko lay on the floor with them. No one mentioned the absence of Geto.

“God, back then I was insufferable.” Shoko laughed. “I can’t believe you’re engaged to a billionaire Y/n.” Y/n texted Shoko the day before about it.

Gojo laughed. “I know.” Shoko glared at Gojo.

“Back then, I was really short.” Y/n stared up at the ceiling. “You were. I used to pat your head all the time.” Shoko chuckled tenderly. Gojo stayed silent.

“Back then, I was head over heels for Y/n.” Gojo said softly.

“Honestly, I still am a little bit.”

Shoko sucked in a breath. Y/n’s stomach DROPPED. She shot upwards and ran out of the class.

Shoko sat up too and slapped Gojo. “I can’t believe you said that to an engaged woman!” Gojo sat up too. “What? I said back then!” He put his arms up in joking surrender, but a deep frown settled on his face.

“And then you said you still like her!”

Shoko glared at Gojo. “Back then, Y/n was head over heels for you too! She’s been in love with you since you were seven!” Gojo’s arms dropped.

“So…all those nights in front of the dorms,” he looked at her, “when I went into the city and she was watching…” his voice was soft and his face was ghostly.

She nodded grimly.

“did Y/n still like me…?”

Shoko nodded.

“until when?” Gojo held his breath.

“she never stopped.” Shoko looked at him.

“Even now?”

Shoko glared at him. “Yes.”

*Last night*

Shoko and Y/n stayed up late talking about Y/n’s engagement.

“I can’t believe you got over Gojo. I thought you never would.” Shoko said over the phone. The line crinkled.

“I never did.” Y/n sighed. “I just ignored it because I knew I could never get over him.”

Shoko was speechless. “So do you still like him?”

“Yes. But nothing will ever happen and I’m getting married” Y/n sounded like she was on the brink of despair.

“Do you love Asahi?” Shoko asked. “Yes.” Y/n replied.

A pause.

“Do you love him more than Gojo?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever love someone like I love Gojo.”

*Present Day*

“I don’t think I’ll ever love someone like I love Gojo.”

Y/n was furiously running down the steps of Jujutsu Tech.

The clouds gathered together to let down a torrential downpour from the heavens.

I knew this was a mistake. I knew and I came here anyway.

Gojo loves me.

He loved me in the past.

Then why did he-

“Y/n!” Gojo ran after her. He easily caught up to her and grabbed her shoulder.

“No, no, no.” Y/n could feel tears in her eyes. “Don’t you dare touch me. Don’t you dare-“ Her lip trembled.

“Don’t you dare tell me you love me after making me watch you go to that girl in Tokyo!” Her voice was thick and her eyes filled with tears.

She quickly went down some more stairs but Gojo caught up.

“You never told me that-“ He tried, his arms trying to grab her.

She slapped his arm away. “That doesn’t matter!” She practically growled.

“Geto was gone, okay? I was broken, and I-“ Gojo began, following Y/n down the stairs.

“So were we all!” Y/n cried. She tried not to slip in the rain. “I thought Geto leaving was my fault!”

She paused on the stairs, looking angrily at Gojo. He stared at her, shocked.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Gojo asked, pain written all over his face.

“Because you were out getting gifts, and presents for your girlfriend-“

“She was never my girlfriend-“

“And coming back drunk and messy-“

“That gift was meant for you!”

Y/n stopped. She looked at Gojo with furrowed brows.

“I was going to ask her if it was a good gift for you. If you’d like it. We never emotionally connected, okay? Hell, I - I don’t even remember her name!”

Y/n went dead silent.

*11 years ago**

Gojo remembered that night perfectly.

It was a memory he revisited often.

He was blindingly drunk, and when he stepped through the school gates he saw Y/n, sitting listening to music.

When he fell and his head was in Y/n’s lap, he honestly thought he died.

She was so beautiful. Her hair, her eyes, it was all in the moonlight. He could basically see the kindness and compassion in her eyes. She looked like an angel. Gojo wouldn’t mind dying if she was the angel greeting him to the afterlife.

“Did she kick you out? You usually stay at your girlfriend’s house all night.” He smiled at the ridiculousness of the thought.

Why would I date anyone when there’s Y/n?

“She’s not my girlfriend.” He didn’t want her to concern herself with the woman he went to. Y/n was too good for that. “And it’s none of your business.”

Y/n hands were on his chest, and they felt so warm. Gojo knew he could stay there happily forever. She rebuked him for turning his infinity off the entire night, but it was never on when he was with her. Just if she wanted to touch him.

He kept holding onto that chance. He kept waiting for that day to come, so it was never on.

The next week, he bought a necklace for Y/n, followed by a handwritten note.

I hope she likes it.

Gojo never gave it to her. For some reason, Y/n distanced herself from him.

And he never heard from her for the next 10 years. He wanted to text and call. He knew where she was, what she was studying, where she worked. He always checked up on her, making sure she was safe.

But Y/n looked happy with her new life. Gojo didn’t want to take that away from her.

When Y/n flew back into his life, he thought it was a sign. His feelings for her were back, now stronger than ever. And he was determined to make sure she never left him again.

**Present Day**

Y/n spluttered. Her jaw was clenched. She searched Gojo’s face, then replied. “I’m leaving now, okay? I’m getting married, and I can’t be doing this. My fiance wouldn’t like it.” She turned and left.

“Screw what your husband wants! What do you want?” He stepped forward, but Y/n conjured up a wall. She paused. “it doesn’t matter what I want. It hurts too much to be with you.”

She left him there, in the rain.

*8 months later*

It was Y/n’s wedding day.

She spent those 8 months plunging her entire soul into wedding planning to drown out her misery.

The wedding was nothing short of glamorous. Asahi made sure of that. The venue was huge too - Asahi had a lot of friends. He told Y/n to invite everyone she knew as well, even if they weren’t super close. She hesitated to send Gojo an invitation but decided to send one anyway. 10 years of knowing him and loving him couldn’t be undone in a single day, no matter how painful that day was.

Asahi and Y/n decided to have their ceremony in the Asahi company’s skyscraper at night. There were professional hair stylists and makeup artists prepping her for the ceremony. After they were done, Y/n slipped on her wedding dress.

She was absolutely adamant that she had a classic wedding dress. None of the ruffles and lace and 7-foot-long veil nonsense. A beautiful white silk dress with a wide neckline and a cinched waist. Perfect for Y/n, and it made her look stunning.

She still couldn’t fathom that she was getting married. That this was the beginning of forever. She couldn’t believe that she was getting married, and not to Gojo.

Suddenly the chandeliers were too bright. The roses in the room too fragrant. The skyscraper too cramped.

She quietly slipped away to the rooftop as the guests started arriving.

On the rooftop, the bustling sounds of the city soothed her. The night breeze gently caressed her red face. She could finally breathe again.

She hoped she wasn’t making a terrible mistake.

Her sorceress instincts were telling her there was someone on that rooftop with her. And she knew exactly who it was.

“creeping on me on my wedding day Gojo?” Y/n joked. He stepped out from the shadows. He smiled. He was wearing a tuxedo, and he looked good. More better than good. It caused a twist of an unexplainable emotion in Y/n’s heart.

Y/n smiled, causing a stab of pain in Gojo’s heart. “Thank you for coming to my wedding Gojo. I’m sorry about what happened the last time we met up.” Gojo’s strong facade slipped. He was trying to be strong for Y/n. He didn’t want to ruin her day. But just the thought of Y/n, his girl, being gone forever…

“You look really beautiful, Y/n”

Just stick to the plan, Gojo.

He swallowed a lump in his throat and brought out a wrapped gift box from behind his back.

Y/n stopped breathing.

“is this-?” She softly picked up the box.

“From all those years ago.” Gojo confirmed.

The gift box that Gojo was supposed to give Y/n 11 years ago. The wrapping was old and crinkled, taped messily together.

“You kept it all this time?” Y/n’s eyes were glassy. He tried to act casually. “It means a lot to me. I couldn’t just get rid of it.” He nodded his head over to the box.

“Come on. Open it.” He grinned. Y/n nodded slowly, tore open the wrapping and opened the box. Inside the box was a smaller box with a note. “Read the note after you open it.” Gojo nudged.

Y/n opened the box, and inside was a beautiful golden necklace with an eye-shaped pendant. Inside the eye was a gleaming sapphire stone, the exact same colour as Gojo’s eyes. “It’s beautiful.” Y/n stared at the necklace in awe. “Read the note.” Gojo took a step closer to Y/n.

The note was clearly old. It was crinkly and was written on lined paper. The handwriting was messy and boyish, giving Y/n a stab of nostalgia.

An eye necklace, because I’ll only ever have eyes for you, Y/n.

Y/n wanted to throw up and cry. This note pierced her heart and sent what felt like a dozen weights to fall on her shoulders.

Why would Gojo give me this gift knowing that I still love him?

“Why did you give me this Gojo?” Y/n asked with tears in her eyes. “You know I’ve loved you for so long. You know I still love you. So why, on my wedding day?” Y/n was borderline begging, asking for a reason to not believe the note. To not surrender her heart to Gojo.

Stick to the plan, Gojo.

He clenched his fists.

Screw the plan.

“I love you Y/n. I’ve loved you since, god, probably longer than you. And I know everything is messed up now because I didn’t have the guts to tell you, but I’ve never stopped loving you. Not in those ten years we didn’t speak, and I know that I’ll never stop loving you. I knew immediately that it was you in that red dress because I never stopped believing in your cursed energy. I never stopped believing in you Y/n. And I never stopped believing in us. That’s why I always had my infinity off around you. And that’s why I’ve kept this necklace this long.”

Y/n was heaving with sobs.

“So please, Y/n.” He looked so vulnerable. “Don’t marry him.” He took off his blindfold, his beautiful cerulean eyes searing into Y/n’s soul. A decade of staring into those eyes flashed in Y/n’s mind. A decade of loving him.

He looked so, so vulnerable. He looked just like the Gojo Y/n fell in love with all those years ago. Boyish and soft.

“Be with me.”

Y/n hugged Gojo so tightly as if the world depended on it. She held him so tight as if the sky was crashing down on her and he was her only safety net.

He buried his head in Y/n’s hair.

“Yes.” She sobbed. “I’ll follow you wherever you go.”

Gojo’s body seemed to collapse. His chest suddenly started shaking.

He let go of Y/n and cupped her face in his hands. The amount of love he felt for her felt bigger than the whole world. He didn’t know that a human could love that much. His heart swelled so big.

“Gojo…what should we do? I’m supposed to get married tonight. I can’t just leave.” Worry crossed Y/n’s face, and Gojo wanted to wipe that worry right off her face. He wanted to wipe off and eliminate all the pain he had caused her.

“Yeah, we can.” Gojo grinned. “What do you mean by-“

Gojo suddenly had Y/n in his arms bridal style. “Where are you taking me?” Y/n felt breathless. “To the start of forever.”

He then jumped off the skyscraper with Y/n in his arms.

142 notes · View notes

igotanidea · 1 year ago

Text

Sous chef : Sam Winchester x reader cook AU (part 1)

sous chef fr): works directly under the head chef

Request: Sammy has his own restaurant, he is a Chef, he works in the administration almost always and usually cooks once a week at the place, he falls in love with the reader. Age gap but everything legal, he cooks for her, she falls in love with his food! and the excellent sex with him (played with it a bit, hope you'll like it anon :)

***

Before we start this story we have to make one thing clear.

Y/N was not a silly teenage rom-com heroine.

Did she watch them? Yes. Did she read them? Yes, absolutely.

But only for the funsies.

It was not like the “To all the boys I’ve ever loved” plotline.

Not like she was only living the fantasy inside her head, too scared to act on her own feelings.

It was not – god forbid – like the After plotline and Y/N was not the good girl focused only on her school stuff not wanting to have anything to do with the bad boys and boys at all.

No way in hell.

She had her own amount of love drama and with the slightly wild character she was more than ready for a new chapter in her life.

College.

Parties, boys, skipping classes and making out in the toilets, sneaking under the professors’ nose.

And now, ladies and gentlemen, let’s talk reality.

She was a nice girl. A kind spirit. A dreamer.

With a vision, sharp tongue and good priorities.

Not a pushover but also not the most popular. Not the sharpest crayon in the box, but street smart. If you asked Y/N Y/L/N how she classified herself she would probably answer in the middle. She could get lost inside her own head trying way too hard to figure things out instead of just letting it unravel and go with a flow. Dead set on putting some sort of label on herself to find out where she belongs. Which was still bound to happen.

She has just moved to the new city to college and what was better way to get acquainted with the surroundings and fellow students than –

- having a little trip? (I’m pretty sure you thought party, huh?)

In her defence – she tried partying, but seeing her college friends drunk dancing and throwing up because they actually wanted to let loose and have a big opening of the year was a bit too much. Therefore, she grabbed her girls, completely ignored their whining about ruining the mood and baptized as Y/N, the destroyer, dragged them out into the city.

That’s how they found this little nice restaurant in the suburbs. Nothing too fancy nor too expensive for a students’ budget but good enough for a group of young adult women who just started living (almost) on their own.

It was nice to have a ladies’ night. At least until the door to the restaurant opened and a representative of the opposite sex entered causing all the females to raise their gazes. A little rascal definitely noticed the sudden commotion in the henhouse cause he shot them a teasing gaze and winked in a flirtatious manner before heading towards the counter smiling widely at the other man standing there.

“Is he gay?” Y/N asked, barely holding back a chuckle, while observing the whole scene

“Who?”

“That guy who just entered!”

“What?” her friends laughed collectively “Dean Winchester being gay? Damn Y/N. He had more girls in his bed in last two months than any of us will have in our whole life!”

“Are you a lesbian then, f/n?”

“What?”

“You said he had more girls than any of us-“

“oh shut it! Slip of the tongue, you know what I mean!”

“so not gay?”

“definitely.”

“who’s the other one then?” Y/N took a sip of her drink pointing out behind her back.

“He?”

“yes he! Do you see any other good looking guys around?”

“That’s Sam.” f/n replied and went quiet teasing Y/N on absolute purpose.

“Care to elaborate or are you too busy foaming at the mouth while checking out that Dean guy?”

“Can you blame me? Damn, have you seen his-?”

“f/n!”

“face! Have you seen his face?” Y/N rolled her eyes in frustration. “they are brothers. Obviously. Sam’s a chef and Dean ... well, I am not sure what he does for a living but I’m all up for the bad boy style and attitude.”

“dare I ask?”

“you better not. I see that little blush on your face so enjoy your little teenage rom-com moment.” f/n laughed sipping her drink though the straw purposefully making it loud to get the man’s attention and be the eyecatcher on Y/N’s behalf.

“stop it!” Y/N shushed suddenly feeling eyes on her back, almost burning the hole and – ironically – do making her blush.

“and what if I don’t?”

“you’re crazy!”

“and you’re too shy for your own good. Come one, live a little. Have a hot, steamy romance. Free yourself! Burn the bra!”

“What?”

“It’s a figure of speech!”

“I know what it means!” Y/N laughed and shook her head at her friend’s stupidity. However, instead of leaving or making a scene she just raised her own glass in a celebratory gesture “cheers!”

And now – tell me, in your honest opinion, don’t you think that few young woman in an almost empty restaurant at the very late hour, laughing and acting the way young carefree girls should, would get some looks, even if covert?

***

Once the academic year got off the ground the time seemed to pass in an accelerated speed. Before anyone noticed the beginning of October turned into November and then everyone started slowly thinking about actual work and getting some work as a source of income.

Y/N was no exception to this rule. Between mingling, being a socially engaged person, going out with friends, studying, preparing for exams, finding little time for her hobbies and currently fighting for an internship, her life was simply crazy.

So she wandered around the city alone to get at least a bit of peace of mind. Not having any specific destination in mind, just letting her feet lead her to whatever place she might find herself in. Just being and floating in space, allowing her imagination and creativity run free, unrestrained by a rigid schedule.

The old bookshop looking like it was taken straight from the Harry Potter universe might have been a spot where she’s been spending most of her time, to such extend that the owner learned her name. moreover, she even started helping him in running the business which was quite good practice given the fact she was studying business and economics. And for one more reason too.

***

“I’m here, sorry for being late! Bus was delayed due to the weather and –“ she walked through the door shaking of the snow not realising that there was a client present and Bobby was nowhere to be found. That meant she was supposed to serve the man standing by the counter, whose face she could not see at the moment. “Morning sir. What can I help you with?” swiftly she hung her damp coat and hat on the hanger and approached him. “Sam?” the name escaped her before she bit her tongue.

“Hi. Do I know you?” the man frowned in confusion, but it was not a confused expression of someone offended by being called by his given name, rather a sympathetic question of someone trying hard to refresh his memory.

“No.” she shook her head with a smile of embarrassment “no you don’t, not really. But my friend got eyes for your brother, you should warn him about a feisty female sharpening her claws.”

“I am pretty sure Dean can handle- wait, you’re that girl from the restaurant.”

“Good memory. Surprisingly good, actually.” She reached her hand towards him “I’m Y/N Y/L/N. It’s only fair to tell you my name since I already know yours.”

“Nice to meet youY/N. You work here?”

“More like volunteer. Full time student, part time bookseller. Doesn’t seem like a match made in heaven, does it?”

“Well, I bet you wouldn’t expect to see a chef searching for a book, will you?”

“I’m not judgmental.” She shrugged taking a look at the pile of volumes in his hands “but choosing modern sci-fi crime and mythology books is a bit surprising. For a guy in general.”

“It’s just side interest. And actually I was hoping Bobby would find something that would be more complex than a manifestation of the author's exuberant and non-realistic imagination”

“Wow, now that’s the wording.”

“for a chef?” Sam smirked.

“For a person. Anyone else would just say the book was fucked up.”

“Thought you weren’t judgmental?”

“I wasn’t.” Y/N shrugged and grinned at him “till you said that you’re pretty much looking for fantasy book with no fantasy in it.”

“Then why do I get the feeling you know perfectly where to find one?”

“Challenge accepted Mr. Winchester.”

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester fic #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester smut #supernatural x reader #supernatural x you

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phanfictioncatalogue · 18 days ago

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High School AU (No Bullying!) (2) Masterlist

part one

A Matter of Chemistry (ao3) - gremlinhours

Summary: Dan and Phil review for chemistry together. Perhaps there's chemistry between them?

Abstinence (ao3) - apoetacriminal

Summary: “Okay, so I love you. I love you very very much....” As soon as he said it Dan opened his eyes wide. He knew. “and I think we’re great together, but lately I feel like our relationship,” his voice broke, “It’s like, lately our relationship has been stuck. you know?” Dan nodded slowly. His eyes were watering. “And I feel like when we’re alone we act more like friends than boyfriends, and we never go out and...I,” Phil looked down.

“Just say it,” Dan whispered,

“I-I think we should break up,”

all i want for christmas (is you) (ao3) - pasteldanhowells

Summary: Dan has had the biggest crush on Phil for a long time now, but has been too scared to say anything to him. Will he finally get the chance when his group of friends participate in Secret Santa?

Blinded with Love (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: In order to be Phil's friend there were two essential rules

1) They must have a good dose of sarcasm

And more importantly 2) they most completely and absolutely cannot treat him differently for being blind

Dan and His Butterflies (ao3) - Raspberrysaxophone

Summary: Very basic: Dan is terribly in love with Phil (the sporty jog). So much so, that Dan joins the school's sports team to be closer to him. As Dan awkwardly stumbles around, Phil starts to take notice of him. A party takes place and who knows what a drunk Dan might do...

electrify my heart (ao3) - fairyy

Summary: Phil is one of those people that talks to everyone. He's actually friendly, and just a generally enthusiastic person. The complete opposite of Dan, who is not one of those people.

a high school au.

Heather (ao3) - danrifics

Summary: Why would you ever kiss me?

I'm not even half, as pretty

You gave her your sweater

It's just polyester, but you like her better

Wish I were Heather

Hurt me once (ao3) - Augusti_Lila

Summary: Dan had decided to confess Phil his love. But sometimes what we plan it's not what we end up having.

Ice-cream Cake (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan wanders upstairs during his 17th birthday party to try and find a few moments of silence after rounds of shots and posing with his birthday cake. Instead he finds his best friend asleep in the tub.

I'm just curious (ao3) - antiadvil

Summary: Fiona and Danielle run into each other at a party. Dani brought her boyfriend. Fi doesn’t like her boyfriend. Dani doesn’t like her boyfriend that much either.

Keep My Head Above Water (ao3) - yiffandquiff

Summary: Dan is the captain of his high school swim team and the sport means more than anything to him. He hopes to be recruited into college so he can continue to swim, however, his plan changes when he fails English. Being tutored by Phil, Dan soon sees that even though he still wants more than anything to continue to swim, he may also want something else too.

kiss you until your lips turn blue (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan's confused about who he is, but what he knows is that he finds the quiet boy in his friendship group very pretty.

Let's see where this goes (ao3) - RyRyCaptain

Summary: Dan and Phil go to the same high school, with Phil a year older than Dan. Phil’s aesthetic is more 80’s/retro, whereas Dan’s is a grunge e-girl aesthetic with makeup. Ever since Dan’s freshman year, Phil admired him for embracing individuality and slowly started to fall for him. However, they never talked except for Phil being nervous and clumsy around Dan. Little did he know that Phil had feelings for him but didn’t show it.

One of a kind (ao3) - Gay_internet_mafia

Summary: Dan falls for the new kid but he doesnt understand why the boy keeps having these mood swings, or why he won't let Dan meet his brother.

Opposites Attract (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Though he could never admit it, Dan has always slightly admired Phil... And maybe been slightly intimidated by him, too. But that changes when Phil comes over, originally for the purpose of completing an art assignment.

Photography Club (ao3) - maytheday

Summary: The only reason Dan joined the photography club was so he could talk to Phil.

Pretty When You Cry (ao3) - RedConverse

Summary: Phil’s the artistic kid with questionable fashion sense and when the most popular boy in school asks him for help in art he doesn’t know how to say no.

Dan has a massive crush on the artistic loser and he’s desperate to spend more time with him.

Roses are Red (ao3) - antiadvil

Summary: Dan wants to buy his best friend Phil an anonymous rose, and also maybe confess his feelings. The problem? Phil is the one selling the anonymous roses.

Luckily, PJ has a plan.

Shy Kiss (ao3) - yikesola

Summary: Dan hates being at school so fucking much, he can’t believe he’s voluntarily hanging around after the final bell like this. But he knows it’ll be worth it for the surprise on Phil’s face.

A ficlet about birthdays and balloons.

something to play for (ao3) - spaceandvinyls

Summary: a basketball!au where phil is the school's star player and dan is his best friend, watching from the sidelines. everything changes when the team makes it to state championships for the first time in ten years and dan and phil realize they want something more than friendship.

something wrong in the village (ao3) - itsmyusualphannie (itsmyusualweeb)

Summary: Fiona Lester has a secret. Dan Howell thinks they hate each other.

Dan meets an online friend and comes to realize something important about himself while juggling changing relationships with his parents, friends, and Fiona.

spring formal (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: phil wants to ask dan to the dance.

tell me that i'm alright (ao3) - manchestereye (orphan_account)

Summary: a partner for a project isn't something dan howell really looks forward to, but he's pleasantly surprised by him.

Thank You for the Venom (ao3) - yonpote

Summary: Dan is a quiet emo boy. Phil is the new skater kid in school. Can I make it any more obvious?

The Boy With The Animal Facts (ao3) - tol_but_smol

Summary: High School AU where Dan has a major crush on Phil, the boy in his art class that is super sweet and gives him daily animal facts

The Fault in Our Education System (ao3) - ticklishpickle

Summary: In which Dan pines over the two things he can’t have; contentment with his grades and Phil Lester, before he realises they might not be as unattainable as they seem.

Something you need to read if you can't stop defining yourself by grades (like me).

Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Phil Lester is a bubbly, popular boy. Dan Howell is an angsty, emo teenager. They fuck in the nurse's office. Enjoy.

you and i (a preview) (ao3) - lestered (clonetrobed)

Summary: Phil just wants to know where they stand.

#phanfictioncatalogue #phanfiction #phanfic #phan #masterlists #au #highschool #highschool masterlist #school

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eddieredmayneargentinablog · 5 months ago

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New: "Eddie Redmayne in COSMO interview: "I was never a dreamer".

Cosmopolitan Deutschland, October 8th , 2024, November Issue.

📸 Photo by Dana Scruggs/The NewYorkTimes/Redux/laif

[Translated with Google Translate]

Cosmo is very close to the man. Every month we meet a cool guy for an interview. This time: the British actor who has recently started defending himself with his mobile phone.

Eddie Redmayne is sitting in a plain office on the outskirts of Budapest, a little sun is shining through the window. One floor down is the film studio where he has just finished filming. Known for his versatile roles, such as as a trans woman in "The Danish Girl" or as physicist Stephen Hawking in "The Theory of Everything" (which won him an Oscar!), something new is coming up again. The nighttime car ride scene for his series "The Day of the Jackal" (available to stream from November) is in the can at the time of our meeting, and he has to go back to the set soon. In between, the Brit has time for a decaffeinated coffee and a chat. Considering that we are meeting him in the middle of the working day, he is surprisingly relaxed and in a chatty mood. And there is no need to worry about the large plaster on his right hand: it is part of the costume, just like his dark wool sweater and gold wedding ring...

Interview: Patrick Heidmann in the current November issue of Cosmopolitan (11/24).

Eddie Redmayne in the COSMO interview:

In your new series "The Day of the Jackal" you play a contract killer who is hunted all over Europe. We don't know you like that yet...

I wanted to do something different because I felt like I had spent my entire career up to that point in tweed suits and other historical costumes. It was time for me to arrive in the 20th century. Also, the first film version of "The Jackal" from 1973 is my father's absolute favorite film, we used to watch it together.

What are the strangest things you have learned from your new life as an action hero?

Apparently you should always have a cell phone in your hand that you can use as a weapon if necessary, and a few coins in your pocket that you can throw in someone's face to distract them. A neon yellow safety vest is apparently the best camouflage because people hardly notice you despite the bright color. And what's particularly funny is that all action heroes carry tampons with them. Because if you do get shot, you can use them to stop the bleeding...

Hopefully nothing you need in your everyday life.

But I could tail someone now! I also learned how to use shop windows, car mirrors or reflections on cell phone screens to follow and shake off others. I even had to practice it properly. In the middle of the hustle and bustle of Covent Garden in London, my coach sent me a photo of a person I had to find and tail. Until he then sent me a second photo of someone who was on my tail and who I had to get rid of.

Maybe a good skill to get rid of the paparazzi. Your kids often visit you on set. Do they understand how famous their dad is and what his job is?

Partly. But sometimes it is very confusing for them. They visited me once in Budapest when I was dressed as an old man chain-smoking. The children recognized my voice, but didn't understand that I was actually in the costume and under the make-up prosthetics. I should have thought about how disturbing that must be for them. In the end they just watched the make-up artist remove everything and reveal me underneath. That helped to calm them down.

Speaking of changes, you were already keen to experiment with your look as a teenager, right?

For my very first series, when I was 14, I really wanted to dye my hair peroxide blonde because that's what all my friends were doing at the time. But I'm colorblind - and I sprayed so much of the stuff into my hair that it turned orange. I still remember that in this half-hour TV show, my hair changed color every few minutes because every day of filming I tried in vain to save something from my hair.

Would you have imagined back then that you would have such a career today?

Not necessarily because I never had any ambition for that particular goal, I was never a dreamer. I want to do every job I take on as well as I possibly can - I always work incredibly hard to achieve that. It's all the nicer that it's paid off.

...

#eddie redmayne #eddieredmayne #redmayne #cosmopolitan #the day of the jackal #interview magazine

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dr-futbol-blog · 5 months ago

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Condemned, Pt. 7

The leader was correct in suspecting that the best way to motivate McKay to do something is to threaten the people close to him. Left alone in the jumper with the savant inmate, he is trying to run diagnostics to see what is even possible to do with the jumper at this point. The local man seems interested both in him and in the technology he has never seen before, unable to resist fiddling with the systems while trying to get to know what kind of a man McKay is:

Eldon: The technology on this ship is far more advanced than the Olesians'. McKay: How ironic, then, to have been shot down by the cast of Braveheart. Eldon: Well, I'm surprised we were able to shoot you down.

Note that Eldon too makes the observation that they should not have been able to take down the jumper. Their level of technology should not have been sufficient for the task. It supports the notion that they may have been aided by Sheppard's subconscious mind, Sheppard overreacting to the perception that McKay was in danger through the neural link he had with the jumper.

McKay mentions the cast of Braveheart, unable and perhaps even not wanting to disguise the disdain he feels for the locals. The film featured Scottish freedom fighters from the late 13th century, and the gist of what McKay is saying that it is ironic that technologically inferior and barely civilized natives managed to take them down. It is interesting that he is again disparaging something Scottish (as he recently had by calling Zelenka Dr. Fumbles McStupid) which again invites the question of what his childhood had been like and why it seems as though he feels the need to belittle his own ancestry (or at least a part of it), given also that his best friend is Scottish. McKay was an adult when Braveheart came out, so the reference to the film itself has no bearing on his childhood. But the fact that he feels the need to denigrate his ancestry by using it to belittle others does at the very least communicate some level of self-hatred, of internalized disdain.

Now, in the film the Scottish resistance fighters are pitted against the English, and where the former have been depicted as more savage as opposed to the more civilized Englishmen, especially in English sources, the reference does not really work here, as the Scottish troops represented the spirit of the common man striving for freedom against oppression. In popular retellings of the historical events, the English are seen as the oppressor and the men of William Wallace as virtuous, as having the moral high ground. However, Wallace commanded an army and was a strategist waging warfare, not a tribal chieftain leading a band of scruffy misfits. McKay's analogy, while again meaning absolutely nothing to the local man, seems off. The situation is much more reminiscent of the Ewoks getting one up on the Rebels, having no idea that they are there actually to fight the Empire on their behalf and pose no danger to the primitive but well-meaning natives. Of course, the Ewoks were cute and cuddly which the prisoners are not, but they do seem fairly simple, curious and fumbling to understand the technology of the newcomers.

McKay elaborates on what he meant, and the low-tech versus high-tech argument certainly applies to the Ewoks as both against the Rebel Alliance and opposing the Empire:

McKay: It's the old low-tech versus high-tech argument, I suppose. Eldon: We've been working on those weapons for years-- McKay: Yes, well, well done, good for them, huh? Now, are you gonna continue talking, or... Thank you. Eldon: ... McKay: Oh, give me that! See, where did that come from?

Once again we see the man who never says thank you say thank you. McKay is actually well aware that he is taking his bad mood out on this man that seems perfectly harmless, and he is starting to feel sorry for him. A small and timid man, he is not unlike Zelenka. And McKay is actually interested in how they had managed to do what they did. Especially if it means they might have something around that could help him fix the jumper. So he continues engaging the man who seems to be developing something like a crush or a type of hero-worship on him:

McKay: Those cannons. Your design? Eldon: No, no, no... well, I chose the material and helped calculate trajectories... the ignition mechanisms... and the fuses, of course... but most of my efforts went into fashioning the explosive shots.

It is clear that Eldon is very intelligent, especially for his environment. McKay is starting to feel begrudging respect for him for having managed to do all that with basically Stone Age technology. At first glance, Eldon seems like the opposite of McKay, timid and self-depreciating, like his self-esteem has been intentionally destroyed just to keep him loyal, to keep him in line. While we do not learn a lot about him, Eldon does not seem like a bad guy. Appearances can be deceptive, however. While he may seem confident, McKay does not have good self-esteem and many of his characteristics, his abrasiveness and being a know-it-all, stem from having had to fight for his spot in every social environment he has been.

Eldon is modest, seeming to want to share credit where there is none to share, but he does seem self-aware, knowing what his skills are and what they are not. He is not being particularly helpful when it comes to fixing the jumper but he does seem to want to share information with McKay that may come in handy, that might be useful down the line. And while McKay is seldom interested in other people, this man does seem curious. He wants to know more. Especially if by learning more about this man he might learn more about their offensive capabilities, to get an idea of just what they are up against.

McKay: Ah, explosives. Is that how you killed a man? Eldon: No, I didn't kill him. I'm innocent. I don't belong here. McKay: Hmm, really? I wonder if there's ever been a convicted felon who didn't claim he was innocent? Eldon: I don't care if you don't believe me. I just want off this island.

We never learn if Eldon is telling the truth, and it doesn't matter. The choice he makes in the current circumstance is much more important than what he may or may not have done in the past. Having this conversation with McKay makes him decide to help them, and the fact that he had managed to establish this rapport with McKay is not a small part in why Sheppard later decides to allow him to accompany them to Atlantis. Sheppard has a lot of gratitude for anyone that looks after McKay when he is unable. Also, the way McKay is able to focus on the technical side of what he is doing and still have a relatively deep discussion about morality with someone standing next to him as he works is definitely a skill McKay has perfected with Sheppard at his side. McKay, however, has a lot more on his mind than the personal history of this stranger:

McKay: Oh no. Eldon: What is it? McKay: I assume there's no DHD beside the stargate? Uh, the ancestral ring. Is there some kind of a dialling device that turns it on? Eldon: No. Nothing. McKay: Ah, of course. Why give the prisoners such an obvious means of escape?

To McKay's credit, he seems to have a lot less respect for the civilized Olesians than he has for the cast of Braveheart, given that the latter never chose to become chow for the wraith.

Eldon: What's wrong? McKay: Look... the main power distribution conduit's been damaged. It effectively cuts all the power to the primary systems: drive pods, cockpit controls, DHD. Eldon: Can you fix it? McKay: Easily, if I had a replacement. Without one, you and your friends aren't going anywhere. Eldon: Neither are you. If you don't fix the ship, Torrell is going to make sure you're the first the wraith find at the next culling.

We finally learn the name of the leader of the prisoners, Torrell. Torrell is devising a plan to use the walkie-talkies to eavesdrop on our heroes, again displaying his cunning. Now, as McKay figures out what the main problem with the jumper is, it is notable that he actually explains the problem to Eldon as though the man was his new apprentice. This, actually taking time to verbalize the problem in a way that someone who is intelligent but does not have his engineering experience could understand is definitely Sheppard's influence. Had he not learned to explain things to Sheppard, he very likely would have told Eldon to leave the moment it seemed he would be able to contribute nothing useful, if only to be able to concentrate better.

The fact that McKay actually is able to concentrate when someone is talking his ear off and fiddling with pieces of electronics that they probably shouldn't be touching is testament to how much time Sheppard has spent watching him work--which, to be sure, seems to have been one of his favourite occupations at least since the end of Home (S01E09). The question "What's wrong?," probably spoken to him by Sheppard countless of times, may in itself be something that triggered McKay to do as he always does with Sheppard.

Regardless, McKay seems to reach an impasse with the jumper and the next we see him, he is once again bound and being brought back into the shack where the others appear to be on the edges of their proverbial seats, waiting to see what happens next. They are not moving, quietly observing the scene unfolding before them.

Torrell: Choose. McKay: Choose what? Torrell: Which one of them dies first. Do it. McKay: I can't do that. Torrell: Well then I'll choose for you. Either way, one of them dies unless you change your mind about fixing that ship.

McKay had his own life threatened first by Torrell and then by Eldon telling him that Torrell would make sure that he was the one the wraith would get to first unless he does as he was ordered, and both times McKay attempted not to show any kind of reaction. Torrell, however, had correctly intuited that the lives of his friends would be more precious to him than his own. Now, the order in which McKay would choose, if push really came to shove, would likely first be Ronon, whom he has known the least amount of time, followed by Teyla and then he would choose to give up his own life rather than give up Sheppard's. This much is clear, there is nothing esoteric about McKay's priorities.

However, his experiences with Acastus Kolya has taught him that giving a bad man any leverage is not a good idea and if McKay did make a choice, who ever he did choose, it is entirely possible Torrell was going to do something contrary just to spite him, from a false belief that they were playing a game of wits of some kind. If he got any inkling that Sheppard means something to him, that is the lever he would use. He might not kill Sheppard right away but there are so many screws he could tighten to get McKay to do what he likes, if only he discovered the screw to turn in particular.

And so, McKay refuses to make a choice at all. And Sheppard was never going to let him do it, either. We can see how Sheppard looks down and worries his lip in his self-soothing way as he hears Torrell's command, trying to think fast on what he should do here. He had been glad to see McKay alive and in one piece but the situation was clearly starting to go south and fast. It was clear to him that this was a form of psychological torture and he knew that McKay was not equipped to handle something like this. Having to watch McKay's anguish over being forced to make an actual Sophie's Choice pained him. The reason why he cast his eyes down was because he did not want McKay to be able to read his thoughts just by looking at him. Sheppard was not going to let them kill either Teyla and Ronon, and if push came to shove, he would draw the fire to himself somehow. He also knew that McKay would not be able to live with himself if his actions had lead to the death of any one of them. And yet he didn't want to die. He very much didn't want to die. For one, it would be impossible for him to protect McKay and to make sure he gets out of here alive if he were dead. He had also not given up hope that they might be able to fix things between them, and he was not ready to give up on that.

McKay: I'm sorry, but there are some things beyond my capability. Torrell: I don't believe you. McKay: I know it is hard to believe, but... Torrell: No, I mean I think you're lying. McKay: I'm not! It's broken! Do you understand broken?

McKay's voice breaks here and given what we find out later, he actually is a very good liar. However, because Torrell needs McKay to be lying, he attempts to profile him psychologically a little more.

Torrell: I know your type. You whine and you complain and you see to it that your every task is viewed as some impossible achievement so that when you do succeed, your gargantuan efforts are viewed as all the more heroic. McKay: That may be true in some cases, but this is not one of them. You are asking me to do the impossible. Torrell: Your friends' lives are in your hands. I'll give you some time to choose.

Sheppard narrows his eyes as he listens to this, and because we heard Sheppard say something similar to Weir in The Storm (S01E10) ("You know McKay will come up with something. He's just setting himself up to be a hero"), some people interpret his look here as communicating displeasure that this man would have McKay's ticket like that while silently agreeing with him. He's not. Regardless of what he said, Sheppard never thought that about McKay.

With regards to Sheppard's exchange with Weir, I wrote:

Sheppard continues to have perfect trust in McKay. Again note that he's masking it in flippancy; when ever he talks about McKay to other people (and he seems to do that a lot; when you have a crush on someone you naturally want to mention them by name all the time because you are thinking about them all the time, but you try to be smooth about it like it's no big deal), he's downplaying it, he gives off the impression that he both cares for and regards McKay as less than he actually does. He tells Weir: "You know McKay will come up with something. He's just setting himself up to be a hero." [...] Sheppard does actually view McKay as a Big Damn Hero, and while here, talking with Elizabeth, he's making it sound like he's ribbing on McKay and his big ego, he does actually honestly believe those two things: that McKay will save them, and that he is a hero.

Thinking that Sheppard agrees with the man about McKay is to misread his character. He narrows his eyes because he hates this man, and being reminded of what he had said previously himself, having his own words thrown back at his face, he hates himself a little bit too. Sheppard has gotten to know McKay intimately since. Even though he admired McKay and trusted his abilities back when he said this to Weir, a lot of water has passed under the bridge since that day. He knows McKay better than he has ever know anyone. He had let McKay get closer to him than he had ever allowed anyone to get. Sheppard knows about his childhood, he knows about his fears and dreams, he knows the good parts of his character and he knows the bad all the way to the downright nasty, and nothing he had learned had ever made him love him less.

Sheppard knows how insecure McKay is. He knows how much pressure McKay is under, and how much more pressure he puts on himself than even other people, most of whom expect him to deliver miracles as from a conveyor belt. We saw Sheppard spend the latter part of the first season trying to ease McKay's burden so that he wouldn't have to feel like it was all on him, like it was his responsibility alone to save everyone. What Torrell says here is not what Sheppard thinks about McKay at all, but it is something McKay may think about himself. He does frequently downplay the odds of something working because when he isn't sure, telling people it's not going to work and it then working is infinitely better than making promises he can't keep, of writing checks he might not be able to cash. It is a way of trying to relieve the immense pressure he is under, most of all from himself. So McKay knows that he does do that, sometimes. But at this point, Sheppard seems to have much better insight as to why he does it. And he wants to protect McKay from this too, from being psychologically dissected by someone that doesn't know him at all.

Torrell seems to give McKay a moment to decide but he is actually working on his plan to use the walkie-talkies to eavesdrop on his captives while they are alone. Whether he was ever actually going to kill one of them or was doing this just for show is unclear but whether the threat was real or not, its effects were devastating all the same.

While it does not seem as though Eldon is in on Torrell's plan, he is doing what he can to help these strangers with the hopes that he might be able to secure his own freedom by betting on them. It seems as though Eldon had seen something in McKay that he wanted to believe in:

Eldon: Listen to him, McKay. He's killed eleven people. Eight before he was sent here, and three since he's been on the island. McKay: Eleven, huh? You've got some catching up to do, don't you? He's only killed one. Sheppard: Who, him? Eldon: I told you I'm here because of a mistake.

Now, while McKay is clearly taking his frustration and anger out on Eldon, the fact that he actually remembers a personal detail about this man and felt that it was important enough to share tells Sheppard that McKay had been getting along with this man. Had it not been for McKay's assessment of his character, Sheppard would probably not paid this man any attention, but now he is curious. Ronon, on the other hand, seeming to be sure that McKay is going to pick him first when Torrell returns and that his days may be numbered, takes some of his bitterness out on this man:

Dex: I'm sure everyone here on this island says that. Eldon: Well, as a matter of fact, some of us are innocent. Only a few like Torrell are actual murderers. Teyla: You mean they put all their criminals here, regardless of the crimes they commit? Eldon: Once only the worst of the worst was sent here, but the punishment proved to be such a successful deterrent that crime rates in Olesia plummeted, which meant fewer and fewer prisoners. Teyla: Less food for the wraith. Eldon: Exactly. Sheppard: So they lowered the bar.

Sheppard is absolutely disgusted by the Olesians. Maybe he could understand putting murderers on death row but condemning innocent people to die to keep the wraith "satiated" so that the Olesians could continue living in luxury really rubs him the wrong way. He is also not comfortable thinking too closely on how they may have lowered the bar. He looks at McKay as Eldon explains how the system became corrupted. Because Teyla looks at Sheppard after speaking, some might interpret Sheppard as exchanging a look with Teyla, but that is not what happens. Sheppard and McKay have been exchanging glances over Teyla's head ever since Home (S01E09), and that also happens here, confirmed by McKay returning Sheppard's gaze after Teyla has spoken. They look at each other, once more communicating something between them that others are not invited to understand, and they seem to be on the same page as to how horrifying they find this.

Beyond that, it is clear as day to Sheppard that this man had taken a liking to McKay because it takes one to know one. It is obvious to him that they had done some bonding when McKay had been away. He hoped that he was wrong about what he started to suspect the crime of some of these men on the island might have been but he certainly was glad that it seemed like someone had been looking after McKay when he could not. The fact that he was warning them now also told him about the man's good intentions. And this man would be much easier to manipulate from the literal bind they were in than their leader, besides.

Continued in Pt. 8

#sga #stargate atlantis #sga meta #john sheppard #sheppard is bi #rodney mckay #rodney is gay #ep. condemned #ep. the storm #ep. home

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