#because shes family. she lived with us most of her life. our home is still her home | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hellodropbear · 8 months ago

Text

like she used to

alexia putellas x sister

i have been writing this for ages and it has just sat in my documents folder since january. i don't usually post stuff i write so this will probably get taken down at some point. i've written 13k words so far but this is just the first 4k.

~~~~~~

I hadn't expected to get the call up, not at all really. But Mapi tore her meniscus and apparently the first team found themselves in need of a backup centre back and I was the best option from the B team. It's a compliment, really. Mami is very proud of me and she is excited for me and my sister to play together in a few weeks, even though she is still recovering from her surgery and I will probably not make it off the bench. I am only 15 and 10 months, usually they wait until you are at least 16 and a bit before you can play.

But, I don't really know how to feel. Thankfully Alexia won't be in training with me for now and I try to avoid thinking about what will happen when she eventually gets better and I have to face her again.

Alexia is my older sister by a lot. There's a 14 year age gap between us and I used to completely and utterly idolise her. She and Alba were two superheroes, always by my side when I needed them. I put them on a pedestal like they were the greatest human beings to ever walk the planet. To me back then, they were.

I was only four when my father died. All I remember from that time was the big black invisible sheet that hung outside his study and the dark and scary emotions that swallowed our house whole. Alba and Alexia would argue about who got to cuddle me at night and I was so unaware what was happening that I would happily agree, wiping away their tears when it all got too much.

The death of our father made our family unit stronger. Mami, Ale, Alba and Elena - it was all any of us needed and we supported each other in whatever ways we could.

Mami had to pick up more shifts at her job, so she couldn't pick me up from school. Alexia had just got her license so she would come in a break during training and pick me up in her training gear.

Alexia didn't have time to drop me off at home so I would sit and watch the training with whoever wanted to give me company when they were injured.

Most days, Alba would come and pick me up and take me on the bus all the way home. She would play cartoons on the TV as she sat at the table and did school work. Some days, when she had the time she would sit with me and watch Alexia's training and we'd all go home together. Alba used to say she enjoyed the training. Looking back, I think she just wanted a free ride home and an excuse to not do her homework.

As I grew up, everything just worked. Alexia and Alba were still living at home as a support to Mami and everything was perfect. My sisters were my idols, my Mami was my shining star. She still is. She would do anything for her daughters, as long as it meant we were all happy.

That is why it has been so hard for her over the past two years.

I have not been happy, not really. My football has been thriving, I have represented my country in the under 17 age group and I am a consistent starter in the Barcelona B team. I spent two years in La Masia before they sent me to the B team last year and I have only been improving since. Everything is going well. Mami says I have had a better start to my career than Alexia did.

Maybe that is why Alexia hates me. Maybe Mami is just saying that to make me feel better about it.

Alexia and I, despite the 14 year age gap, were always inseparable - for the first 12 years of my life. She was at every single school event, football game, she picked me up from trainings when she could and would train me herself in the garden. We shared a common passion that Alba was not interested in at all - we both love football, we eat, sleep and breath it. Football is everything. She was the one who gave me that mentality.

"Football is life, Lena, you are lucky you are so good because now you also get to live football and hermanita, it is the most incredible thing."

She had whispered that to me when I was 11. We were sat on the beach, a place we visited frequently throughout my childhood, both of us staring out at the reflection of the moon on the sea. Alba was fast asleep, her head in Alexia's lap as she snored lightly, completely oblivious to our conversation.

It all fell apart over three years ago, although I don't have the first clue as to why.

It was not an explicit event that ruined everything, more my older sister growing up and flying the nest that was so secure and established over years and years of shared success, happiness, failure and grief. She moved out of home long before that, but her split with Jenni upset her, I think, a great deal. I wouldn't know because she didn't really tell me anything - that was strictly Alba's business.

I didn't even know they had broken up until 5 months after it actually happened.

"Mami, why does Jenni never come over any more?"

It was an innocent and normal question, but the look on my mother's face told me everything. Everything about Jenni and everything about my sister.

I think that was the first knock. She hadn't done anything wrong but I had loved Jenni and Jenni had loved me. I would have thought that she would have told me they broke up. Maybe she didn't want to, maybe she just forgot. She does a lot of that these days.

Before she and Jenni broke up, she still came to all of my games. She never missed one game before I transferred to La Masia and would insist on taking me out to ice cream after every one. She would tease me for not scoring like she does, even though I play as a centre back.

"You need some training from Mapi, she is a centre back and has the most lethal free kick, hermanita! She is the best defender I have played with, but don't tell her I said that. I think you will grow up to be better than her."

She was excited that day, I had made a few good saves and I think that was the first time she really saw that I had the potential to be great.

I remember the first game she was late to. I noticed immediately but we both pretended she was on time - she only made it to the last 10 minutes but I put it down as traffic or being caught up at training. She was busy, it takes a lot to be La Reina.

I remember the first game she missed entirely. She wasn't there at the beginning and she wasn't there at the end. I was 13 and I didn't have a phone yet so I couldn't call Mami and ask her to come pick me up because Alexia was too busy. I told myself it was because she was too busy. I didn't want to say she had forgotten because that was too hard for me to handle.

I remember vividly sitting outside the stadium as the sun set. My coach had asked where my sister was, I was a bit stuck with what to say but I managed to convince her I was fine and she could go home.

Alba came and picked me up after work that night. It was dark and she looked sad but when I asked if she was ok, she just shrugged her shoulders and said everything would be fine.

I found out from Mami a few weeks later that Alba was sad because I had never once been forgotten anywhere. Alba saw that as the destruction of our strong family. I suppose she was not wrong.

Alexia never said anything about that game but she was at the next. She didn't take me out for ice cream after, instead patting my head and telling me she would drop me off at Mami's work.

"I have things to do, Elena, I am very busy. Hopefully soon Mami will let you catch the bus on your own. Maybe Alba can take you soon so you know the correct routes."

Her words hurt more than I could admit to myself, I told myself to stop being pathetic. Mami asked why I was crying when I walked into her office. I told her I had played terribly and she comforted me. I think she knew I was lying. I think that is why she had tears in her eyes when she released me from her grip-like hold.

Since that day, Alexia has been to 3 of my games. She went to one more of my old club games but she was sat beside Alba, her eyes glued to her phone the entire match. I was so unfocused that the ball deflected off my face and we conceded. I was taken off with a bleeding nose but when I looked up in the stands, my sister was still staring at her phone. Alba had run down the stairs and was by my side when I entered the little sick bay.

I cried then too. Most people thought it was because of the bleeding nose or the conceded goal. Alba knew that wasn't the real reason.

The penultimate game she watched was the final of the under 15s Catalonia cup. I don't know what she did during the game because Mami told me not to look up. She said she didn't want me to get distracted but I think she meant to say she didn't want me to get hurt.

I think I still idolised Alexia at that point in time. She was still my older sister and she was still the best player in the world. She still had weekly dinners at home, although she wouldn't sit next to me and sneakily take all the food I didn't want off my plate anymore. She stopped staying to watch a movie after dinner even though my favourite part of the week was falling asleep in her lap as her hands combed softly through my hair.

I remember when I was accepted into La Masia, Mami held a nice big dinner. It was right in the middle of covid so it was technically illegal, but we had a lot of my family over. Mami invited a few of the Barcelona girls as well and Mapi and Leila reminded me of what it used to be like before Alexia stopped loving me.

The reminder of the before was more painful than I liked to admit, and the night ended when the tears that had been burning in the back of my eyes finally spilled out as I was talking to Mapi.

She immediately pulled me into her arms and asked what was wrong and I struggled to find a lie that would be believable.

I settled on saying I was upset about everything changing - which I suppose was true.

I remember Alexia looking mortified and breaking eye contact as soon as I looked at her. She told me off that evening when Mami was in the shower and Alba was talking to someone else. She told me I needed to be grateful for everything I have been given and that she paved the way for me.

It was even worse when she said I would never achieve the things she has. She said it was because I didn't have the mentality that she did, that I had it all so easy.

It hurt the most when she told me she was disappointed in the person I was.

"I hope we never share a shirt, Elena, because the day you play in the first Barcelona team is the day that we have run out of players. It will mean that football players are week and female footballers can not be weak. You do not have it in you to be like me, to do what I have done to get to where I am."

The venom in her voice sent a cold shiver down my spine and I felt like I had been stabbed. I didn't cry that time. I waited until I was in my bedroom to sob my heart out.

The last time she ever watched me play was the next day, but she didn't have an option not to. I played terribly, my first game as a La Masia student, my sisters words repeating over and over in my head.

That was really what tipped the relationship I once shared with Alexia on its head. The pedestal I had put her on was destroyed and suddenly she was just another player. I barely saw her as my sister any more. She couldn't love me, you wouldn't be able to hurt someone you love so much.

I have barely seen her since. She still comes to our family dinners on Thursday nights - she still very much loves Alba and our Mami. But I tell Mami that I have training with Barcelona B late on Thursdays. It finishes at 6 and dinner starts at 7, but I just organise to go to my friends' houses for dinner instead.

Sometimes we both have dinner together at home, but it is awkward and I hate it. I think she has probably forgotten about what she said to me in June of 2021, but I don't think I will ever be able to.

She doesn't like me, but it's ok because I have learnt to accept that. But I will never not love my sister because she was once everything to me.

~~~~~~

"Pequena Putellas!" Patri's excited shriek is what welcomes me into the dressing room on my first day. She tackles me into a hug and squeezes me tight. "It has been such a long time, mi favorita!"

The last time I saw Patri was only last year at the champions league final. I had sat with my whole family but I went to the bathroom when everyone else went and spoke to the players. I don't think Patri would have seen me.

I can only smile as she continues.

"I remember you as the little 8 year old who would sit and watch our training sessions after school! I was so confused by you when I first arrived here, you know. I remember the first time Ale let you play a game with us and you were so good!"

"Nobody doubted that you would be on this team one day!" A new voice entered the conversation.

"Marta!" I hugged the brunette closely. She was always one of my favourites.

"I am proud of you, pequena putellas."

Her words are familiar as I have heard them out of my mothers voice time and time again my whole life. But they seem foreign coming from Marta and it is an unwanted reminder of my sister. I don't know why - maybe it is because I have always associated this Barcelona team with her. I don't remember the last time she said she was proud of me.

I don't remember the last time she said anything to me, really.

"Gracias, Marta, I have missed you." I bury my head into her neck and she holds me closer.

"You have not been around as much since you transferred to La Masia. I wanted to come and watch but Ale never extended an invitation and I didn't want to overstep." I shake my heads at her words and she frowns.

"Alexia doesn't have time for my games, she hasn't for a while. It takes a lot to be La Reina."

Marta's frown deepens at my words and the attention of a few spanish players is captured. I should have spoken quieter, I forgot how many people in here speak catalan.

"It is ok, she is very supportive, but she just can't come to my games. She makes it up in other ways." I am lying through my teeth but Marta will never know.

"I am sure, she must be very proud of you, being selected in this team for the first time, it is a big deal, you are very young."

All I can do is nod, my energy is all being put into holding back my own tears. I don't know if Mami told her. I don't know if Alexia even knows that I was selected.

"Get changed now, I am sure Jona will want to talk to you before the session, especially with the game tomorrow."

I nod again as Marta pats me on the back and walk over to the cubby that says my name. It feels a bit surreal, really.

I never really thought I would see my name on a Barcelona cubby, accompanied by my new number that I chose in the meeting a few days ago. It was always a dream, but I never thought it was achievable. Alexia always seemed like a superstar, a superhuman of sorts and I would never reach that kind of level.

But here I am in the team that I always wanted to be in - in no way am I anywhere near my sisters level but I am on my way to being like her. I just wish she cared. I wish she was proud of me like Marta is.

Her cubby sits across from me and I try to tear my eyes from it but it sits and stares right back at me. I feel like an intruder in Alexia's space, this is not for me, she would not want me to be here.

I tie my laces quickly after that and head out onto the pitches to begin training.

I have trained with the first team twice before, but the Barcelona Bs were always slightly seperate and we could keep our distance from the first players. Jonatan is a familiar face and I feel comfortable as he smiles and me and motions for me to follow the others to the gym.

It is weird, being promoted within my own club. I am not so much a new signing, but a replacement - I am not good enough to be in the first team but they had no other options when Mapi injured herself.

I used to worry that people would say I only get opportunities because my last name is Putellas. When my sister told me I was weak all those years ago, that idea sort of cemented in my head, I suppose.

I never told my Mami what her daughter said to me because it would upset her. I told Alba half of it when she found me crying in my room a few days later but made her promise to not tell anyone. She couldn't say anything to Mami, Alexia, anyone at all because it would only make Alexia think I was weaker.

She was furious and tried to tell me it was untrue but it had already been said. I believed Alexia's word more than anyone else. To me, she was a superhuman.

But when I spoke to Jonatan a few days ago he made me feel like I was wanted within this squad. He made it clear that he wants me to integrate completely into the squad in the next few years and that he can see me playing soon even though I am only 15.

I told him I didn't want anything special because of my surname.

He told me that he chose me because of my first name.

"Elena Putellas," he said with a grin, "you may be as good as her, but you are not your sister. This is a professional environment. As long as you perform, which I know you will, nobody will care what your name is."

It was a big boost to my confidence.

Aitana Bonmati caught up to me quickly as I walked to the gym.

"You are big now." I chuckled but did not look over, I didn't need to really. "But not that big. You are only 15, si?"

"Yes, I am 15."

I met Aitana when she first joined the club. She always used to say that she would steal me and take me home with her because she thought I was adorable. It is strange that I am now sort of in the same team as her.

She started playing for the first team when I was 8. I was older then, I played my own football and liked staying with Alexia so I could kick a ball around with her teammates when they were done.

Aitana was one of the few who would stay every time I was there. When Alexia didn't want to wait she would drive me home herself, all the way to the other side of Barcelona. We would always stop for ice cream on the way home.

"I have not seen you in too long, Lena. I have missed you a lot but you have been doing very well in the B team. I am very proud and I take credit for your abilities." She spoke in such a dead pan voice but it was somehow still filled with emotion.

"I have missed you too, ABC." It was a nickname I gave her the first time she drove me home. I had been learning about the alphabet in English class and had the little song stuck in my head when she told me her full name. I used to sing her initials in the tune of the song but it quickly merged to me just saying the three letters.

"I have been to a few of your games, you know?"

I look at her in confusion, I have never seen her there. She just nods.

"Alexia never invited any of us but she was never at the ones I went to so I would sit in the stands with a hat and glasses so people wouldn't recognise me, but I was there. I went to your La Masia games as well. You have become a phenomenal player, Lena."

She has always spoken with such sincerity. I have missed her a lot.

"Maybe you can drop me off at home again tonight? I have missed you."

She chuckles and pulls me into a side hug.

"I was waiting for you to ask, little Lena. Oh you are not so little any more!"

I chuckle as well and let my head fall onto her shoulder as we enter the gym. My eyes scan the room, looking at all of the players on their equipment, nerves quickly settling inside me.

"Don't worry, it's all easy." Aitana seems to read my mind. "Just come with me and I will show you how to do everything. It will become second nature in the next few days."

The gym session went quickly as I was taught all the different exercises. I was familiar with most of them, having done a very similar program in the past with the B team.

We went out onto the field to do some drills and I played well. Jonatan was impressed and so were the first players. My teammates? Maybe, not quite, I don't think. I still haven't been in a team list, so I suppose I'll be their teammate when that eventually happens.

It wasn't until we reached the ice cream shop that Aitana started asking me all the awkward questions. I should have seen it coming.

"Why do you never come to our games anymore, Lena?" I was very grateful for the scoops of gelato in my hands. Eating it delayed my response as I tried to come up with something to say. I shrug as I eat.

I can not say it is because I do not get along with Alexia. It is too hard for me to say now, even after all these years.

"I'm not sure. I suppose I got busy with my own training and school. I have been to a few but I usually go home with Alba pretty quickly after they finish." It is only half a lie but she just shrugs, apparently not believing my words.

"And why is it that I am driving you home from your first ever first team training? I thought Alexia would have wanted to." I anticipated a question like this but that does not mean I wanted her to actually ask it.

"Alexia is busy." I hope that Aitana understands I don't want to talk about it. I haven't spoken about my broken relationship with my sister to anyone. I think she can sense something is wrong though, because she puts her spoon back into her ice cream and grabs my arm so I am staring right at her.

"If you ever want to talk, I am right here, Lena. I know you don't like people knowing what is going on inside that crazy head of yours but it is good to release your feelings."

She definitely knows something is wrong so I appreciate her not pushing.

"I have outlets, I play football, I play the piano, I am ok, aitana, I really am."

She eyed me as if to say she didn't believe me but dropped the topic anyway.

"When did you get so good?"

chapter II

#woso fanfics #woso #woso imagine #alexia putellas #putellas!reader #alexia putellas x reader #barca femeni #fcb femeni #alexia putellas imagine

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jareaul0ver · 7 months ago

Note

Thinking about Nika and reader getting into a big fight bc reader feels like Nika has been neglecting her and the relationship due to basketball and then Nika trying to get her back ….

wc: 2k warnings: angst to fluff, happy ending!!, nika being a bad, neglectful gf at first, basically all stated in the request pairings: nika muhl x fem!reader

Nika had always treated basketball like it was the only thing in her life that mattered. For the most part that was true. Sure, she had her family, but they were back in Croatia and there was only so much she could do with that situation.

Then you came into her life, flipping her world upside down. Sometimes basketball was pushed to the back of her mind when she was with you. She valued the way you could help her wind down after a tough practice, or if they lost a game you knew exactly how to make her forget about it.

But that was all in college. After she got drafted, things started to change. She wasn't getting the same playing time she used to, which greatly affected her mood.

You reassured her after each game that it was just because it was so early in the season, and that you were sure she'd get playing time as everything progressed.

She didn't listen, though. She was out for most hours of the day. At team practices, weight training, and dragging into her own personal time with extra workouts and practice drills.

Her mindset was that if her playing was perfect, she'd get time. But it still didn't help.

At this point, you barely saw her. Even with living in the same apartment, she'd pretty much only be there in the very early morning or very late night, mostly while you were asleep.

Not only was her being in the W affecting her, it was affect you and your relationship with her. She was pulling away from you, whether she realized it or not, and it was hurting you more than she knew.

It was a late night for you. You were working on the final touches of a paper for one of your summer grad school classes, sitting on yours and Nika's shared bed which had felt incredibly empty for the past few months.

She walked through the door, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise when she saw you still awake. "What're you doing up?" She said quietly before going over to grab clothes to change into from the dresser.

"Finishing up the paper I've been working on for class," you mumbled. You had mentioned it to her before, as she had caught you working on it in the late nights and early mornings, but it seemed to have slipped her mind.

"Oh," was all she managed before changing into clothes to sleep in.

You sighed and looked up at her. "I've mentioned it to you before, you've seen me working on it before," you said, frustration laced in your tone.

Her brow furrowed as she looked at you. "You don't need to get pissy with me, I just forgot."

"You've been forgetting a lot of things lately, Nika," you let out a shaky breath, pushing your laptop off of your lap and sliding out of bed. "Christ, you almost forgot our anniversary a few weeks ago."

"Sorry I've been busy, I've had a lot on my mind," she said firmly.

You pinched the bridge of your nose. "Nika, all you've been doing is basketball ten times over. Extra training, practice, whatever you can find. You're never home. You're never with me anymore."

She froze for a second before opening her mouth to speak, but you cut her off with the wave of a hand. "Don't even start," you started to raise your voice. "I- no, our relationship has been on the backburner ever since you got drafted! I get it, babe, it's important to you, and it takes a lot of time and effort but-"

Your voice cracked and tears welled in your eyes. "You've been gone, Nika. For months, I've felt like I've been on my own. Sometimes it just feels like I'm in a one sided relationship, like you don't want me anymore."

Nika's face fell at your words, and she felt a pit forming in her stomach. She stepped towards you, bringing her hands up to cup your face, wiping a tear with the pad of her thumb. "I- I'm sorry, bebo, I don't want you to feel that way, but-"

You scoffed and stepped back. "There's always a but, isn't there," you said flatly. With a shake of your head you turned towards the bedroom door. "I'm sleeping on the couch. Less room for it to feel so empty," you spat with a shaky voice before leaving the room.

The door shut and Nika looked down at the ground, her hands now on her hips as she stood there, letting every word you said sink in.

She realized now that she was losing you, that you were slipping away, and it was all her fault. She had been so absorbed by basketball that she forgot about you.

There had never been a day in her life where she felt worse. Not when she couldn't play because of her visa issues, not when she hurt her ankle for the first time, not even when she had to leave her family back in Croatia to play basketball.

No, this was the worst day of her life. Her coming to the realization that she might wake up tomorrow and you aren't in the apartment. All your things could be gone. You could block her number, her socials, erase her from your life completely, and it would be her fault.

Tears welled in her eyes as she thought of this. The idea of you leaving is her worst fear, and she would do damn near anything to make sure it wouldn't happen.

So the next morning she checked the couch, immensely relieved that you were still sleeping somewhat peacefully out there. Although she wasn't with you, she was glad she still had you.

Before she left for practice with the team, she wrote a small note for you and left it in your underwear drawer, where she was sure you would see it.

Eventually you woke up, immediately checking the bedroom to see if Nika was miraculously here. You knew she wouldn't be, but it still hurt to see an empty bed.

You had an interview with a possible employer in a few hours, so you got ready. You walked into the bedroom with only a towel covering your body, and opened your underwear drawer, and look of confusion first on your face when you saw the note.

You picked it up and read over it, "I'm so sorry baby, I promise I'm going to make it up to you. Don't make any plans for tonight, I'll be home after your interview. - Love you."

A sigh fell from your lips, but your face softened. You hoped and prayed that she would stay true to her word, this being a turning point in your flatlining relationship.

But you held back from fully believing it, part of you expecting a disappointing outcome.

You finished getting ready for the interview and left the apartment, your mind immediately cleared from everything going on with Nika the second you got into your car.

Nika sat on the couch as she anxiously waited for you to get home. She was wearing a black top with a matching black skirt that you had gotten her for her birthday this year. She had a pair of short black heels to match, and her hair and makeup was done.

You walked into the apartment, your back turned towards her at first as you closed the door, but once you turned around your eyes widened a little.

She stood up and took a deep breath, taking a step towards you. "Hey, how was your interview?"

You blinked a few times before responding. "Oh, um, it went well I think," you said softly.

Nika nodded slightly before turning to the direction of the coffee table and picking up a small bouquet of your favorite flowers. She turned back around and took a few more steps towards you, now leaving you guys only a few feet apart.

"Got these for you, as the beginning of an apology gift, I guess," she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she held them out.

You looked at her hesitantly before taking them. "Beginning?"

She nodded and stepped forward, almost closing the gap between the two of you. You reached over and placed them on the table near the entrance of your apartment, fully giving her your attention.

"God, bebo, I'm so sorry. For everything. For treating you the way I have been, not being there, forgetting important things. I can't even put it into words how sorry I am," she said with a long breath. "And I know sorry isn't gonna fix it, but I'm trying to, okay? I am."

You stared at her, your face softening a bit at her words. "It's gonna take a lot more than a bouquet of flowers to fix everything, Nika," you uttered, your voice soft but serious.

"I know. Of course it is, but that's not all I have planned for tonight, okay? I- I got us a reservation at that one Italian place you like that's not too far from here. The nice one." Her voice was tinged with desperation, longing to have you back with her, to belong to her again.

Nika told you it was in an hour, so you nodded and went to the bedroom to get ready. It didn't take you long, as all you had to do was touch up your makeup and change your outfit.

Once you came out of the bedroom, Nika was practically giving you heart eyes. It had been so long since she'd seen you like this, all dolled up in a pretty little dress, ready for date night.

She walked over to you, hesitantly grabbing your hands. You let her, and looked up into her soft brown eyes. "You look gorgeous, bebo," she whispered.

You couldn't help but blush a little, that feeling of before you and Nika drifted coming back to fill your senses. Her touch on your hands practically set you on fire. It had been so long since you two actually touched, not just in passing, or snuggling in the middle of the night.

But a long, snug grip that sent flutters throughout your chest.

"You do too," you said softly to her, squeezing her hands gently. She smiled a little and started pulling you towards the door, ready to leave for dinner.

You were returning home from dinner with her. It was almost perfect. You talked and laughed and everything felt like it should again. When you walked into the apartment, you gently tugged on Nika's hand. "We really should talk about everything more."

She faced you and nodded. "Yeah, of course, let's go talk," she gently dragged you over to the couch and sat down, waiting for you to do the same.

You sat down after her, barely leaving any space between the two of you. All it took was a deep breath from the both of you before you spoke, your voice soft. "Tonight was... amazing. It's everything I've been wanting for the past few months and more, but it doesn't fix everything."

She gazed at you intently, absorbing every word you said. "I know, and I don't expect everything to be fixed."

You nodded, appreciating her listening to you. "And I forgive you, because it's really hard not to," you said with a small laugh. "But it's gonna take a while for things to go back to normal. And it's gonna take effort."

Nika hummed softly her hands finding yours again as you spoke. "I don't want things to go back to how they were, you barely being home, pushing me away because you're so zoned in on basketball. I want you. I want my Nika back."

She thought she could cry at your words, seeing the hurt evident on your face, hearing it subtly in your tone as you spoke. "I'm back, baby. I'm back, and I'm not going anywhere, I promise. And I'm gonna work every day to prove that to you."

You pulled your hands away from hers to bring them up to her face, cupping her cheeks gently against your palms. "I love you," you whispered.

"I love you," she said immediately, "so much."

You leaned in slightly, gently pressing your lips to hers, igniting a much needed kiss between the two of you. "I'm not going anywhere ever again, promise," she mumbled against your lips.

wow im back hi sorry for not writing for so long, ive had bad writers block and since its the summer ive been doing a lotta stuff keeping me busy, but hopefully im back for good now <3

#nika muhl #seattle storm #wnba #wlw #nika muhl x reader #lgbtq #jareaul0ver🤍

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leaawrites · 8 months ago

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Time will pass, but our love won't

Logan Huntzberger x fem!reader

Summary: When Logan asks Y/n the one question that could ruin their future together or make it last forever.

A different outcome of Logan asking Rory to marry him.

Warnings: use of Y/n, suggestive content (very little), female reader, family problems (on both ends), mention of marriage

Wordcount: 2k

Masterlist

One day before her Yale graduation. He could’ve chosen the day after, when she had been blackout drunk and was now suffering from the worst hangover known to man kind. It could’ve been while they were half asleep in the middle of the night. But one day before her graduation, when everything seemed to already be too much, she couldn’t say anything but, “I need time.”

Logan was disappointed - no wonder. He knew what he wanted and he was sure that he would get it. He wanted her. Forever and always.

After Rory broke up with him, she was the one by his side. When his father had another one of his bad days and decided to let it out on Logan, she was the one who picked up the phone, knowing what happened and said to him: “Come over.” Before hanging up and setting up the living room for a late night conversation with snacks and alcohol. Whenever he had a stupid idea she would tell him which consequences he could face, though when he decided to do it anyways - so most times - she supported him no matter what. Even when it ended with him in the hospital and her cursing him out for being so stupid, saying that she would never let him leave his apartment again - which was a white lie. She was there for him; always. He wanted that to last until he died.

His father told him it was a bad idea, after he came home drunk once again, slurring his words, slamming his door shut and climbing out the window, fleeing into her arms once again. This night made him think about it more intense then ever before. In her arms he felt save. He was surprised that she still let him in after he disturbed her sleep so many times before, even when she told him it was alright because she wasn’t even asleep in the first place. Always hovering over homework she started too late since she could study better at night, with a coffee sitting next to her and a empty cup already left in the kitchen sink.

Saying that she needed time wasn’t the best answer, it was better than “no” but worse than “yes” even when it was the truth. She needed time, for everything. There had to be a list, covered in little scribbles at the edge of the paper, filled with overthinking and anxiety. Just like now.

Y/n sat on her bed, paper crumbled together, pillow stuffed between her chest and legs as she held on to it tight. tears were welling up in her eyes, which always fled back to the little blue box that held at least a million dollars in it. She hadn’t opened it since he showed it to her. Her chest was cramping together at the memory of it.

They had been on a quiet walk after leaving her parents house, filled with people none of the two knew. They stopped in the middle of the park - or rather he stopped her - and he poured his heart out to her. There had never been a moment before where she felt seen as much as right there, though the ring ruined it. It didn’t specifically ruin the moment, but it did ruin her confidence she built up in the last couple days in order to not seem to nervous when getting her certificate.

It sat there so innocently, watching her. It was almost screaming at her to open it, so she did. Her fingers were shaking as she held it between her fingers, opening it with a hammering heart. As she sat it - closely and with a still mind for the first time - there was something so calming at the thought of having a secure future. With the house and the tree and the papers that she could write for, it seemed simple. and that was what she craved. All her life, the future was always a mystery. She was never certain where she would land in the end, there was no one really securing her in that sense. It had always been all or nothing. And most time, for her at least, it had been nothing. In 8th Grade the B’s seemed to let her know that she had to work even hard for an A. In her home, the books reminded her that nothing would be enough for her to have it all. But Logan offered her everything. He offered her a hand that would take her to that All she craved.

“You look half dead, Y/n,” Rory said, half laughing at her friend and half caring.

Y/n tried to laugh with her, though the only thing leaving her mouth was a yawn, explaining her dark eyes and ever closing eye lids. Though Rory and Logan had somewhat of an relationship, that never stopped them from being close. They never became best friends, and probably never would, but they offered comfort to the other when needed.

“Had a long night,” she said, trying to ignore the raised eyebrows and fleeting glances between Lucy and Olivia.

“A long night together with Lover boy?” Lucy nudged her. As two of Rory’s friends, Lucy and Olivia quickly bonded with her too, they were bitter at the beginning after learning that their friend’s boyfriend went out with another one of their friends after breaking up, though that quickly went away when Rory also moved on, discovering an old spark with Jess. Now, all they did was tease the girl for her boyfriend’s rumored past.

“Not with him,” she defended herself, cutting off the last part of her sentence. There had never been a major conflict between the two that wasn’t solved before midnight, she was unsure how her friends would react when she told them that something happened between the two.

“Oh no, what happened?” Olivia asked, sensing the uncomfortable feeling in her friends voice.

“Nothing major, don’t worry about it,” she waved them off, crossing her arms over her chest. A forced smile covering her tired face.

“Are you sure?” Rory asked, touching her shoulder in comfort. The girl knew better than anyone how Logan can be, so a million possible answer ran through her head right now, though none of them were about what actually happened.

Just as Y/n was about to answer, someone called out for the graduates to make their way over to the event. Y/n was the first one to walk towards the stage, away from the problem. Rory’s eyes followed her, not convinced by her behavior. Lucy and Olivia only shrugged before following their friend who walked faster than ever before - which was almost impossible.

People were buzzing around her, happy families full of smiles as their children finally path their own way or crying because they went away for good now. The sun was hot on her skin under the black robe as she stared at the certificate in her hands. Finally she made it. Finally she was able to flee from her past. It was finally her time. No weekends filled with guilt because everyone else got to go home to their family. No holidays spent alone at a lake house she couldn’t associate with anything but family drama and fights. Now, every weekend, every holiday, was for her to decide how it went.

“They’re not here, are they?” A voice said, making her look up. Logan cast a shadow over her body as she sat against a tree on campus. He looked down at her, holding his hand out to help her up.

“On a business trip,” she said, while pulling herself up. Standing now face to face he saw what everyone else saw for the first time. The broken girl he only got to know behind closed doors. She wasn’t sad about her parent’s absence, it happened before. Now it didn’t face her anymore.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve made them come here for you,” Logan said, hands stuffed in his pockets. An awkward silence settled over the pair that was full of smiles and giggles most times.

“It’s not that important,” she said, smiling at him in an attempt to make it more comfortable. Both knew what caused the tension, now she only had to take the knife and decide what to do with it. “Not as important as something else.”

“I remember when I graduated,” Logan said, trying to make their conversation last a little longer in case it was their last. “I was a little tipsy - that’s a big surprise, huh? - And I did trip, and I reached out and grabbed the robe of Marcia Hadley, who was so not the person to grab.”

“Logan,” Y/n said, making him stop talking. She always had been the one who was rational enough to start a conversation when it was needed, even when it might hurt.

“I love you,” he said, taking her hands in his. “If this is the last time I tell you that, I want you to know that I mean. There is no one I’ve ever loved or cared about as much as I do with you.”

“Logan,” she tried again to stop his rambling, though he wouldn’t shut up.

“I have everything planned out, everything. There is nothing you need to worry about. You want to never work again? It’s alright, I won’t be happy about it, but if you want to, do it. You want to have a Porsche that I can’t even pay? I will work extra.”

“I made a list,” she cut him off. “And I have thought about it a lot, as you can probably see,” she moved her hand towards her face, making both laugh, “and that ‘All or nothing’ motto that you have, I’m unsure about that.”

“Y/n,” Logan sighed, almost pleading for her to stop talking words he didn’t want to hear.

“Let me finish, please,” she said.

“I always do,” he joked, raising his eyebrows.

Y/n ignore his comment, though her checks warmed up a bit. “As I already said, I’ve made a list and I came to a conclusion, because - if I’m being honest - I only had one thing staying on there.” Slowly she lost her hands from his, pulling the little blue box out of her pocket.

“Y/n, don’t do this to me,” he begged, the color leaving his face.

“Ask me again,” she said, putting the box in his direction.

Logan looked up at her in surprised, his eyes filled with a mix of confusion and hope. “What?” he asked, hoping he didn’t misunderstand her.

“Ask me again,” she urged him.

“Y/n L/n, do you wanna marry me?” He asked again, opening the box only to find it empty. He looked at it confused, fear threatening on his face as he feared he lost it.

“I will,” she said, left hand lifting up to meet his face. Logan’s face lit up, the heat of the sun finally filling his veins. As he was about to close the gap between his lover and him, she stopped him, hand placed on his cheek to push him back a bit. “Under one condition.”

“What now?” He sounded almost desperate to finally kiss her.

“We’re not gonna marry in the next year, only figuring our new life out with new jobs and a new home. When we have that all figured out, you can finally make me Mrs. Huntzberger officially,” she told him.

His stance fell for a second before he straightened his back again and nod his head. “Alright. One year and not longer.”

“You’re a desperate man, Huntzberger,” Y/n said, smirking as she came closer to his face.

“Only for you, Mrs Huntzberger,” he said, laughing at her. Closing the distance felt like a vow already. They knew that it wasn’t gonna be a long year, not if they spent it together at least.

#logan huntzberger #logan huntzberger x reader #logan huntzberger x you #logan huntzberger imagine #gilmore girls #gilmore girls fic #gilmore girls x reader #gilmore girls fanfiction #rory gilmore #jess mariano

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cat3ch1sm · 1 year ago

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hii! could i request hcs about illumi's fiancé meeting the zoldycks? something along the lines of her being expected to be the next lady of the house and getting used to the mansion's lifestyle (having butlers, being secluded on a mountain, having the entire family living together)? it would also be nice to see her getting along with the little siblings (killua, kalluto, and alluka)

sorry if i left out any necessary details in this request :(

~✰♡✰♡✰~ hellooo! thanks for ur request :)) haven’t written for hxh in a little while so im happy to write this for you and our favorite bug-eyed assassin :3 if you’re ever unsure about what info to put in a request, just visit the pinned post! ily 💚

fem!reader

𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐢’𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜é 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐳𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐲𝐜𝐤𝐬

illumi isn’t close with his family in the same sense that normal people are close with their families, but nonetheless he feels the need to inform them of major developments in his life. through a letter he tells his family of his engagement, and says that he is going to bring you to his home to see them all.

silva is indifferent, and zeno couldn’t care less, but kikyo is ecstatic that her illumi is finally going to marry someone- and that it isn’t that awful clown hisoka. she’d been seriously concerned for a second there. but she rounds up all the members of her family to be present on the day of your arrival (using excessive force because nobody really wanted to come besides alluka, who was only allowed to meet you because killua threatened to not show up unless alluka was permitted as well).

when you and illumi first arrive after the lengthy trip up the mountain, you are greeted by butlers gotoh and canary, whose presence startles you. you were aware of illumi’s great wealth and status, but it was certainly different from how you’d grown up. just getting inside the actual home is a process- illumi’s strength slightly freaking you out when he pushes open four of the doors to the entrance of the mansion without breaking a sweat and then encountering Mike, the Zoldycks’ monstrous dog. illumi does notice your apprehension, though, and plainly assures you that the dog won’t harm anybody it isn’t supposed to. you’re still visibly nervous, though, so illumi has you come closer to him and hold on to his arm. regardless, you realize it may be tougher to settle in than you thought.

at last, though, illumi brings you to his family. nobody reacts much outwardly to your presence, but you notice a white-haired boy with catlike eyes observing you closely, his expression a mixture of suspicion and confusion. standing beside the boy are two other black haired children- one with short black hair standing somberly with his hands folded in front of him, and the other an eager blue-eyed girl whose gaze sparkles as she looks at you. the white haired boy stands right behind the blue-eyed child. the tall, blonde man with a large frame illumi tells you is Silva, his father, and the slightly shorter man with white hair beside him is illumi’s grandfather, zeno.

without warning, you feel thin arms thrown around you in an embrace, and you almost jump out of your skin. but when you are released, you see the woman that can only be your fiancés mother, the only member of the family illumi had warned told you about prior to the visit. kikyo wears a large dress with an ostentatious petticoat and hat, and most notably a visor over where her eyes would be with one red glowing dot. her appearance is unsettling, and you find it a little difficult to force a smile when she greets you. illumi watches you from the side of his eye, his face unreadable.

just as kikyo is pulling away, something gleaming and silver and large is thrown right at your head, whizzing right by kikyo’s hat and slicing off a single hair from the feather on her hat. you don’t hesitate to lift your hand to your face and catch the sword immediately, the blade slicing your hand- but you don’t flinch as the blood seeps onto the blade and down your arm. you tilt your head to the side to see your assailant is silva, his arm still poised in throwing position. his expression grows less stony once he sees you’ve caught his weapon.

there’s a moment of icy silence, you lowering the weapon to your side, and silva watches you even more intently before uttering a flat “welcome to the family.” with that, he and his father turn and disappear elsewhere inside the mansion. kikyo, though, takes this as her cue to immediately grab you so you two can walk by yourselves throughout the mansion. illumi doesn’t look super pleased to see his mother take you, but he knows better than to try and stop her.

you two are navigating the long, hollow corridors of the zoldyck home. you pass many unsettling family pictures and paintings as well as various weapons like swords and arrows on the walls, and several human sculptures that seem a little too realistic. you’re also sure that you pass at least two torture chambers. it’s an eerie atmosphere, which was what you’d expected, but it doesn’t help your nerves.

kikyo either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care about your apprehension, and instead starts talking about how much she’s wanted a daughter and how thrilled she is to finally have a “daughter” to take in. but then she grows eerily serious. she talks about how you’ll be expected to be the next lady of the house and, since you’re becoming a zoldyck, how you’ll have to follow the same codes they do as a family and exhibit the same values- which makes you antsy. the woman clearly seems a bit unhinged. you’re relieved when the walk ends and you’re returned to your fiancé, who gestures for you to take his arm again. illumi’s mother’s mood changes drastically yet again and she storms off, shrieking to her husband that it’s rude for him to walk off after hardly having said anything.

now you and illumi are left with the four other children- the white-haired boy, the girl with long hair, the boy with short hair and purple-pink eyes, and a homely fat boy behind the three younger ones. he holds a small console in front of his face and doesn’t even seem to acknowledge your presence. illumi introduces them to you.

“y/n, i’d like you to meet my siblings,” illumi states in his usual manner, walking slowly towards them. gesturing to the white-haired boy, he says, “this is my brother, killua. i call him kil.” he looks down at his brother with an eerie smile and black eyes like pits, but killua keeps his stony gaze straight ahead. his hand rests on the shoulder of the girl in front of him.

“this is my youngest brother, kalluto,” illumi continues, placing a large hand on top of the boy’s head. his hands remain folded in front of him, and he gives you a polite nod. looking toward the fat boy behind kalluto, his expression slightly curling into one of disdain, illumi tells you, “and this is the second oldest, milluki.” milluki doesn’t acknowledge you at all, which seems to visibly irritate illumi, but he doesn’t reprimand the boy.

you’re confused when illumi doesn’t introduce the girl, and you glance up at him in confusion. “illumi, what about her?” you look down at the girl in front of killua, who looks surprised for a second, and so does killua behind her. “you forgot to tell me her name. she’s a beautiful little girl.” you manage a small smile, leaning down slightly to stroke the girl’s hair. her blue eyes sparkle with joy, and killua looks up at you as well, looking a little confused but also very relieved. “your mother said she had no daughters.”

illumi’s eyes lower ever so slightly, giving him a dismissive look. “she doesn’t,” he answers flatly, and his tone makes you feel like that’s the end of the discussion. you’re definitely lost- but you suppose it’s something illumi will have to fill you in on later. you glance sideways at illumi, hand still resting in the girl’s hair. she definitely doesn’t seem to mind you, and killua appears to have warmed up to you as well. milluki’s vanished elsewhere and kalluto watches the whole exchange from the corner of his eye.

suddenly you all hear kikyo call for illumi, who immediately stands up upon hearing his name. “you will remain here until i return.” he tells you, his tone no-nonsense, and heels clicking he makes his way down the dark hallway, leaving you alone with the kids.

the second illumi is out of earshot, the girl brightens up. “hi!” she chirps, bouncing on her feet excitedly. “my name is alluka!”

you’re slightly startled, but you smile at the girl anyway and tell her hi, still wondering why illumi seems so detached from this girl in particular.

killua seems to read your mind. “i know what you’re thinking,” he tells you, not unkindly. “listen, my family doesn’t like alluka much- and they refer to her with male pronouns. just go along with it in front of them. it’s safer for you.” he pauses, then looks down. “but thanks for being nice to her.”

you frown and nod, deciding not to ask any more questions about it. kalluto still hasn’t said anything, but somehow you don’t feel like this boy will be anything to worry about.

with alluka and killua having warmed up to you, you get into a conversation, and kalluto eventually offers a few words after awhile- although never acknowledging alluka directly. most of it is basically killua wondering how the hell you managed to get engaged to someone like illumi.

“No way he didn’t force you to go out with him.”

“What the hell do you even see in that guy? He’s batshit crazy- and he’s definitely not a model.”

“How’d he propose? Did he try to kill you and you survived?”

“‘Man, you really gotta be messed up for Illumi to like you.”

“What even made him wanna get married to you? What even made you wanna get married to him?”

“You gotta be kidding me.”

“And you said yes? You’re crazy!”

that’s all i got :3 hope u enjoyed <33

#anime #hxh headcanons #hxh memes #chrollo x reader #hunter x hunter #hisoka x reader #illumi x reader #illumi zolydck x reader smut #reader x illumi zoldyck #reader x illumi #illumi zoldyck x you #illumi zoldyck x reader #illumi zoldyck headcanons #hunter x hunter illumi #illumi hxh #hxh imagines

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daydreamer-in-reverie · 7 months ago

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I think that, as a literary device, Finnick’s story is one of the most effective ones I have ever read.

When you think of victims of sex-related crimes, you so rarely think of a man.

In our modern society, we more often imagine women to be victims of such crimes. Beautiful women who are battered and bruised, their eyes holding that faraway gleam of pain and trauma. Sex-related violence against women is such a common occurrence that it is difficult to find a woman who doesn’t have intimate knowledge about it. Perhaps not every woman has been raped but every woman knows at least one who has. As young girls, we’re told so many things to try and prevent rape. Don’t go out by yourself at night. Be careful of what you wear. Don’t drink alcohol. Fight them off. And yet, if you did everything right and still fail at protecting yourself, just give in. Better raped than dead. Come home to your family and friends hurt and bruised but alive.

And it is this message that Finnick, a man, lives by.

Better taken advantage of, bruised and hurt, than dead. Better you than your parents or your siblings or Mags or Annie. Do whatever it takes to stay alive.

And, the thing is, we didn’t have to hear this story from him. We could have heard it from Cashmere.

In his propo to the Capitol, Finnick reveals that attractive Victors are pimped out by President Snow to the residents of the Capitol. One such Victor is Cashmere.

Knowing this layer of her story makes Cashmere the picture perfect victim. A woman who is repeatedly described as beautiful. She is a typical description of what a rape victim is. Suzanne could have used her character instead of Finnick’s to portray an instance so familiar to so many women and yet, she didn’t.

She chose Finnick. And I think the reason why she did that is because hearing it from Cashmere would have made the story fall flat.

Would we have blinked an eye had it been Cashmere who revealed the horrors of being a Victor? Would we have felt anything other than a vague sense of sympathy? I don’t think so. Like so many women before her, Cashmere’s story is so familiar to us that it no longer leaves that bitter taste in our mouths. We, as a society, have been so deeply desensitized to this plight that we no longer feel the same indignation we used to feel. Instead we are resigned to our fate. Cashemere isn’t the first victim of rape and she won’t be the last.

Yet to hear it from Finnick had us shocked. Finnick? A man? Attractive, to be sure, but he is at the prime of his life and yet he is a victim? Finnick, who can wield a trident so effectively he became the youngest Victor in the 75 years the Hunger Games operated, was raped? Finnick, who has literally killed people with his bare hands, was prostituted? Finnick, who cracked jokes about killing people was whored out by President Snow?

It is absurd! It is a bizarre and strange! It has to be untrue!

And yet it’s not.

Finnick being representative of that particular storyline was effective at reminding us of what it means to be victimized like that. And using Finnick, a man, instead of Cashmere, a woman, reminded us of why we have to be rightfully angry and upset about such things instead of resigned to our fates.

Suzanne Collins is an absolute literary genius.

#74th hunger games #75th hunger games #finnick odair #district 4 #cashmere #hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #katniss everdeen #katniss and peeta #peeta mellark #annie cresta #haymitch abernathy #effie trinket #suzzane collins #media analysis

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theonottsbxtch · 21 days ago

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PREACHER’S DAUGHTER FINAL PART | MV1

an: i bet you guys thought i forgot about this, i didn't. i just didn't want to say goodbye to them just yet because this is officially the end of our favourite couple. i'm defo going to miss them a lot and i hope you enjoyed them as much as i did.

wc: 3.6k

previous part

THE HOUSE WAS QUIETER than it used to be. It wasn’t silent—there was no such thing in a house with three kids, even if they were teenagers now—but the chaos had mellowed into a rhythm.

Theo, now eighteen, had shot up like a weed and was nearly as tall as Max. He spent most of his time tinkering in the garage with his dad, learning the ins and outs of engines and dreaming about rebuilding the motorbike Max had never fully let go of.

Mary-Ann, sixteen and the spitting image of her mother, had inherited her sass and determination. She was perched at the kitchen table, headphones on, doing homework—or pretending to, judging by the way she was doodling flowers in the margins of her notebook.

And Daniel, their youngest, now twelve, was sprawled on the living room floor with a pile of Legos, determined to construct the "coolest car ever" and occasionally asking Max for design advice.

Max leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping his coffee. The years had been kind to him, though there was a little more grey in his beard and a few more lines around his eyes. He wore them well, a testament to a life lived fully.

His gaze drifted to his wife, who was standing at the stove flipping pancakes. She hummed under her breath, her hair tied up in a loose bun, a familiar warmth radiating from her. The sight of her, even after all these years, still made his heart skip a beat.

“Need a hand, angel?” he asked, setting his mug down.

She glanced over her shoulder with a smile. “I’ve got it. You just make sure Daniel doesn’t eat the syrup straight out of the bottle again.”

Max chuckled, ruffling Daniel’s hair as he walked past. “You hear that, buddy? No syrup until the pancakes are on the plate.”

Daniel groaned but nodded, his focus back on his Legos.

Once the pancakes were ready, the family gathered around the table, the smell of maple syrup and butter filling the room. Theo and Mary-Ann bickered over who got the last pancake until their mum intervened, splitting it in half with a raised brow that said don’t push your luck.

Max leaned back in his chair, watching his family with quiet contentment. They weren’t perfect—there were still squabbles, slammed doors, and the occasional teenage attitude—but they were his. They were hers. And they’d built this life together, brick by brick, from nothing.

Later that day, Max and Theo were in the garage, going over the specs of a carburetor Theo had salvaged from the junkyard.

“Think we can make it work?” Theo asked, his voice filled with the kind of excitement only an eighteen year old with a dream to take over his dad’s garage could muster.

Max grinned, clapping him on the shoulder. “We can make anything work if we put in the effort.”

Mary-Ann wandered in, rolling her eyes, hands glued to her phone - something Max realised she was doing more often. “Mum said you two need to stop talking about car parts long enough to eat lunch. Also, Daniel wants to know if he can use the drill.”

But Max chose peace and never mentioned it as he snorted “Absolutely not.”

Mary-Ann smirked. “I told him you’d say that.”

When dinner rolled around, Max watched as her phone lit up and she smiled. All of this had started innocently enough. Mary-Ann had come home from school, cheeks pink and a slight bounce in her step, and casually mentioned during dinner that a boy had asked her out on a date.

She might as well have set off a grenade.

Theo, who had been lazily poking at his mashed potatoes, froze mid-bite. His eyes snapped up to his sister with the kind of intensity usually reserved for critical engine failures. “I’m sorry, what?”

Daniel, sitting next to him, dropped his fork entirely. At twelve, he wasn’t entirely sure what “dating” entailed, but he knew enough to side with his older brother. “Nope. Not happening.”

Even Max, who had been chewing a piece of chicken, paused. He set down his knife and fork, leaned back in his chair, and folded his arms. “Who’s this kid?”

Mary-Ann groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Oh my gosh, this is why I didn’t want to say anything!”

Her mum, sitting at the head of the table, was trying—and failing—not to laugh. She sipped her water to hide her grin, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Let the poor girl live, you three.”

But the boys were relentless.

Theo, the self-appointed enforcer, turned to Mary-Ann with a raised brow. “What’s his name? Is he in your grade? What’s his deal?”

Daniel piped up, his brows furrowed in a stern expression that would have been intimidating if he weren’t still twelve. “Does he know we’ve got a garage full of tools? And Dad has a hammer?”

Max nodded sagely, playing along. “Big hammer.”

Mary-Ann threw up her hands. “You guys are ridiculous! It’s just one date!”

Theo leaned forward, fixing her with a deadpan stare. “And that’s how it starts. First it’s one date, and then he’s calling you all the time, and then—”

“—he’s asking you to marry him!” Daniel chimed in, clearly pleased with his contribution.

Max smirked, glancing at his wife. “We’re just looking out for her, angel. Can’t have some punk kid messing with our Mary-Ann.”

She shook her head, laughing softly. “She’s sixteen, Max. Let her figure it out.”

Mary-Ann crossed her arms, glaring at her family. “You’re all the worst. Mum, do something!”

But her mum just shrugged, biting back another laugh. “Sorry, sweetheart. You’re on your own. This is way too entertaining.”

Mary-Ann groaned, pushing back from the table. “I can’t believe you guys! I’m going to my room.”

As she stomped off, Theo called after her. “You’re not leaving this house until we meet him!”

Daniel added, “And I’m bringing the hammer!”

Max, unable to resist, cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “BIG hammer!”

Her mum finally burst out laughing, shaking her head as she looked at her husband and sons. “You three are unbelievable.”

Max grinned, leaning back in his chair. “What can I say? We’re a protective bunch.”

Daniel puffed out his chest. “Yeah, Mum! We’re protecting her honour.”

She rolled her eyes, still smiling. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate it one day. Maybe.”

Max winked at her. “Just doing our duty, angel.”

And that day did roll around.

The atmosphere in the head teacher’s office was tense—at least, it was supposed to be. Theo sat in the chair next to his parents, arms crossed, chin jutting out defiantly like a boxer after a victory. His knuckles were still a little red, and there was a faint smudge of what could only be described as "evidence" on his school blazer.

The head teacher, a middle-aged man with a thin mustache and a receding hairline, sighed heavily as he glanced over the disciplinary report in front of him. “Mr. and Mrs. Verstappen, I’ve called you here because your son, Theo, punched another student today. Quite hard, I might add.”

Mary-Ann, sitting to the side with her own chair, looked both embarrassed and secretly pleased as she avoided her brother's gaze.

Max sat back, trying—really trying—not to crack a smile. He’d been biting the inside of his cheek since they arrived, but the mental image of Theo landing the punch was too much. His lips twitched dangerously, and he coughed to cover the beginnings of a chuckle.

His wife shot him a sharp look. “Max.” Her voice was low, a warning in one word.

Theo, sensing the opportunity for backup, jumped in. “It wasn’t my fault! He called Mary-Ann a...a...” He hesitated, glancing nervously at his mother.

The head teacher cleared his throat uncomfortably. “A ‘church freak,’ I believe, was the term used. Followed by...other comments.”

Max’s lips pressed together tightly, his shoulders shaking as he fought the laugh bubbling up. He turned his head away, trying to disguise it as clearing his throat.

Theo, emboldened by his dad’s silent support, added, “Yeah, so I punched him! Right in the mouth.” He demonstrated with his fist, making a swooping motion like a dramatic action movie. “I didn’t even miss!”

Max lost it. A short laugh burst out before he could stop it, and he quickly turned it into a cough. His wife’s head snapped toward him. “Max Emilian!”

Her tone was scolding, but there was a flicker of amusement she couldn’t quite hide.

Max held up his hands in mock surrender. “What? The kid’s got good aim!”

The head teacher looked horrified. “Mr. Verstappen, this is hardly something to celebrate. Violence is unacceptable under any circumstances—”

“He started it!” Theo interrupted, glaring at the head teacher.

Max leaned forward, his voice mock-serious. “Way to go, buddy.” He reached out and fist-bumped Theo before his wife could stop him.

She groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Max, you’re not helping.”

Mary-Ann finally spoke up, her voice small. “He only did it because he was sticking up for me. It’s...kind of sweet.”

Her mum sighed, turning her attention back to Theo. “Theo, you can’t just go around punching people, no matter what they say.”

Theo blinked at her, his face scrunching up in confusion. “But Dad did. He punched your dad, and no one told him off.”

Max froze, wide-eyed. “Whoa, whoa, let’s not drag me into this.”

But his wife turned to him, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. “Oh no, you’re definitely getting dragged into this. Theo wouldn’t be punching anyone if you hadn’t decked my dad in front of him.”

Max rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “I mean...to be fair, your dad deserved it.”

“And that’s exactly what Theo thinks about this kid!” She gestured at their son, who looked increasingly smug.

The head teacher cleared his throat, trying to regain control of the conversation. “Mr. and Mrs. Verstappen, while I understand the context, the school has a zero-tolerance policy for violence. Theo will need to serve a two-day suspension.”

Max shrugged. “Two days? That’s not bad. Maybe we can—”

His wife slapped his arm lightly. “Stop encouraging him!”

Theo grinned, clearly unrepentant, and looked up at his dad. “Can we go home now?”

Max ruffled his hair. “Sure thing, champ. You earned a break.”

His wife threw her hands in the air, muttering something about boys and her fate of living with three of them. Despite her frustration, though, there was a small smile on her face as they walked out of the office.

As Max and Theo bolted out of the school building, laughter echoing in the hallway as they raced each other to the parking lot, she shook her head with a small, amused smile. Mary-Ann stayed by her side, clutching her school bag as they walked together at a slower pace.

Her daughter’s quietness didn’t go unnoticed. She looked down, noticing how Mary-Ann stared at the floor, her brows furrowed in thought. Gently, she placed a hand on her daughter’s shoulder.

“You okay, baby?” she asked softly.

Mary-Ann shrugged, hesitating for a moment. “I guess. Just...what that kid said about me at school.”

Her heart sank. She crouched down a little to meet Mary-Ann’s eyes, pausing in the hallway. “It’s okay if it upset you, you know. What he said was mean, and he was wrong.”

Mary-Ann chewed her lip, looking conflicted. “He called me a ‘church freak.’ I guess I don’t really know if I am one. Is it...bad?”

She felt her chest tighten at the vulnerability in her daughter’s voice. She took Mary-Ann’s hand and gave it a squeeze, guiding her to sit on a nearby bench where they could talk.

“I know how you feel,” she admitted after a moment. “When I was your age, I got called things like that too. Kids made fun of me for going to church, for praying, for all the little things I believed in. And it hurt.”

Mary-Ann blinked, her curiosity piqued. “Really? You got made fun of too?”

She nodded. “I did. A lot. But you know what? It doesn’t matter what they think. You don’t have to go to church just because I do. If you don’t like it, or if it makes you feel weird, you don’t have to keep going.”

Mary-Ann looked up at her in surprise. “You mean that?”

Her heart twisted as she nodded. Christianity was such a core part of her own life, something that had anchored her during her darkest moments. Letting go of the idea of her children growing up in the church wasn’t easy, but she also knew she couldn’t force it. Faith had to be their choice.

“I do, baby. What’s most important is that you feel comfortable. It’s not about what Dad or I want for you—it’s about what you want for yourself. Okay?”

For a moment, Mary-Ann said nothing, her little face thoughtful. Then she smiled, small but genuine. “I like going to church. I like Sunday school, and singing the songs. And I don’t care if kids at school think it’s weird.”

She felt a wave of relief and pride as she pulled her daughter into a hug. “That’s my girl. You’re so brave, you know that?”

Mary-Ann grinned against her shoulder. “Thanks, Mum.”

The sound of Max and Theo shouting in the distance broke the tender moment, and she shook her head as she helped Mary-Ann up.

“Come on. Let’s see if those two actually waited for us at the car or if they’re already halfway through that oil change.”

Mary-Ann giggled. “Dad’s definitely winning. Theo’s fast, but Dad’s faster.”

“Let’s go find out.” She smiled, holding Mary-Ann’s hand as they walked toward the parking lot.

Later that day, when the sun set and all of them had packed up the dinner table, Max found himself curled up on the sofa with his wife. His arm was draped around her shoulders, her head resting on his chest, their legs tangled as they relished a rare quiet moment. The kids had been unusually calm after dinner, and they’d taken full advantage of the lull.

But the calm didn’t last.

Suddenly, the sound of hurried footsteps broke through the peace, and all three kids came bounding into the room. Theo was leading the charge, with Mary-Ann and little Daniel trailing close behind, their faces lit up with excitement and mischief.

Max groaned, shifting slightly but keeping her close. “There goes the quiet.”

She smiled, sitting up just as Theo hopped onto the armrest of the couch. Mary-Ann plopped herself between her parents, while Daniel crawled up onto Max’s lap, nestling in without hesitation. At his age of 12, he just got away with it.

“What’s up, guys?” his wife asked, amused by their sudden energy.

Theo spoke first, his voice laced with curiosity. “How did you guys meet?”

She exchanged a look with Max, one eyebrow raised. “Where’s this coming from?”

Mary-Ann piped up, clearly eager to share. “We were looking in Dad’s office—”

Max’s eyes narrowed playfully. “Wait, wait. You were snooping in my garage? What were you doing in there?”

Daniel, ever the bold one, looked up at his dad with an innocent expression. “Pictures! We saw pictures!”

Theo nodded, practically bouncing now. “Yeah, pictures of you two when you were younger! You looked so different, Mum. And Dad didn’t have any grey hairs!”

Max snorted. “Gee, thanks, bud. Remind me who gave me these grey hairs.” He shot a mock glare at Theo, who grinned unrepentantly.

Their mother, who was laughing now, shook her head as she ruffled Mary-Ann’s hair. “You guys found the old photos, huh?”

Mary-Ann nodded, her eyes wide with wonder. “Mum, you looked so pretty in your dress, and Dad looked cool with his jacket and helmet.”

Max smirked, leaning back into the couch. “Cool, huh? You hear that, Angel? They think I’m cool.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. “You’re inflating his ego, guys. So, why do you want to know how we met?”

Daniel, still snuggled in Max’s lap, whispered conspiratorially, “Was it like a movie?”

Max chuckled, wrapping an arm around Daniel. “Sort of. It started with a Church and a bit of my chivalry. And maybe a little bad timing.”

She laughed softly, her eyes sparkling with fond memories. “He was as stubborn as he is today, kept offering to carry some boxes for me.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Max teased, brushing a kiss against her temple.

Theo leaned forward, his curiosity insatiable. “So, you just saw Mum and were like, ‘She’s the one’?”

Max pretended to think for a moment. “Pretty much. Your mum was gorgeous. Still is. But it wasn’t just that. She had this thing about her—strong, determined, kind. She made me feel like maybe I could be a better man.”

She rolled her eyes but was clearly touched. “Oh, stop. You’re making me blush.”

Mary-Ann sighed dreamily. “That’s so cute. I want a love story like that one day.”

Max groaned dramatically, covering his face with a hand. “No. Absolutely not. You’re staying single forever.”

Mary-Ann smacked his arm lightly, laughing. “Dad!”

Daniel, trying to stay on topic, asked, “Then what happened? After the parking lot?”

She smiled, pulling her kids’ attention to her. “A lot happened. We fell in love. We got married. And then we had you guys. And that’s the best part of the whole story.”

As the laughter faded and the kids began settling down, she found herself staring at the curious, innocent faces of her children. Their questions had slowed, but the warmth of the moment lingered, leaving her with a quiet space to think.

The memories came rushing back—the hurried whispers in the dark, the rumble of Max’s motorbike as they fled the life she’d desperately wanted to escape. The fear, the uncertainty, and the overwhelming relief when she finally felt free.

They deserve to know, she thought, her gaze drifting to Theo, who was fiddling with the hem of his shirt, and Mary-Ann, who was resting her head against her shoulder. Even Daniel, with his sleepy eyes and little fingers clutching Max’s sleeve.

But how could she tell them? How could she explain the life she’d left behind without tainting their view of the world? Of family?

Her chest tightened at the thought. What if knowing changed how they saw her? Or worse, how they saw Max?

She bit her lip, glancing at him. He was leaning back on the couch, his arm resting along the backrest, his other hand absently ruffling Daniel’s hair. His eyes caught hers, and his brow quirked slightly, a silent question: You okay?

She nodded subtly, offering him a small smile.

No, she decided. Not now. Not yet.

They were still so young, their world so pure. If she told them the truth, it wouldn’t be to satisfy curiosity or ease her own conscience—it would have to be necessary, something they were ready to hear. And she would know when that moment came.

For now, she tucked the thoughts away, sealing them behind the same mental door she’d locked so many years ago.

And that’s how life was for the Verstappens.

Years passed, but the heart of their family never wavered. She and Max, once two young souls bound by circumstance and love, had built a life that was both imperfect and extraordinary.

The children grew, each carving their own paths in the world. Theo, ever protective and headstrong, went on to study engineering, inspired by the hours spent in the garage with his dad. He eventually took over the family’s repair shop, rebranding it with a sleek new sign that read “Verstappen & Son’s Auto.” He still teased Mary-Ann mercilessly but remained her fiercest defender.

Mary-Ann, with her gentle strength and quiet faith, became a teacher. She carried her mother’s warmth into the classroom, where she guided and inspired children from all walks of life. Her love for the church endured, but she carried it as her own, unpressured by anyone. She often joked with her parents that her students were easier to handle than her brothers.

And Daniel—sweet, clever Daniel—emerged as the family dreamer. With a heart as big as his father’s and a mind as sharp as his mother’s, he pursued a career in writing, crafting stories that captured the chaos and beauty of family life. His parents swore they recognised pieces of themselves in his characters, though he always denied it with a smirk.

She and Max grew older, their once fiery love mellowing into something deeper and even more unshakable. The garage was still Max’s domain, though he worked less and spent more time tinkering for fun. She often joined him, still the same girl who’d fallen for him in that tiny trailer all those years ago.

The white picket fence eventually aged, its paint chipping in places, but it stood strong—just like them. Sunday dinners became a cherished tradition, with laughter filling the house as their children and, later, their grandchildren gathered around the same worn dining table.

In the end, their lives weren’t perfect. They had their disagreements, their challenges, their moments of doubt. But they always had each other, and that made all the difference.

And as they sat together on the porch in their twilight years, Max’s hand in hers, the memories of their wild, beautiful journey were enough to fill a lifetime.

Because that’s how life was for the Verstappens—a story of love, resilience, and the kind of family you fight for, cherish, and hold onto forever.

the end.

taglist: @sinofwriting @le-le-lea @vanicogh @iamred-iamyellow @rayaskoalaland @spookyanamurdock @iimplicitt @hellowgoodbye @maximuminfluencerstarlight @lottalove4evelyn @piceous21 @ladscarlett @leclerc13 @linnygirl09 @labelledejourr @cmleitora @fortunapre @felicityforyou @isagrace22 @bookishnerd1132 @formulaal @mastermindbaby @daddyslittlevillain @inmynotes63 @litllefox @hollstopia @alexisquinnlee-bc @carlossainzapologist @oikarma @obxstiles @verstappenf1lecccc @hzstry8 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @anamiad00msday @linnygirl09 @mastermindbaby @iamred-iamyellow

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sweetdispatch · 3 months ago

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Why are you doing this to yourself? - Q. Hughes

pairing: Quinn Hughes x girlfriend!reader

summary: Quinn's girlfriend relapsed to her old habits after his comment

warning: mentions of cheating, mentions of eating disorder, mentions of throwing up, mentions of sex (nothing graphic), swearing, angst, hurt/comfort

words: 2.4k

note: my first ever published fic!! I used a name instead of Y/N because i don't feel comfortable writing without names so sorry for that. Also, english is not my first language so apologies if there's gonna be any mistakes. I'm proud of this piece and I hope you'll enjoy reading🤍

if you are struggling with eating disorder, please talk to somebody, your family, friends or even to me, you are not alone in this!❤️‍🩹

masterlist

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Zara never had been in a healthy relationship. Since high school times, all her boyfriends were abusive towards her. As a teenager, she got into love-hate relationship with food. Always blaming herself and her look for not being good enough to have a partner. When she had been multiple times cheated on, she truly believed that’s because she’s fat and unattractive. The truth was that she was looking normal, like every teenage girl but her low self confidence let her believe that she’s the problem. Zara was skipping meals and when she ate something, she felt guilty and was forcing herself to throw up. When she graduated high school, she came back on right tracks. Yes, she still was struggling and had episodes of skipping meals but it got way better than it was back then.

When Zara met Quinn, she was impressed by how well spoken he is and very respectful towards her. She truly started to believe that she deserves to be loved. He was always giving her compliments and her confidence was growing. She never told him about how shitty exes she had and her problems with eating. She didn’t wanted a pity party from him. She truly believed that she’s a new person thanks to him. After a year of dating, Quinn had been named a new captain of the Vancouver Canucks. Zara was more than happy for him because she knew how hardworking person he is. Although she didn’t expected him to ask her to move into his apartment.

“Honey, I was just thinking that maybe you would like to move in to me? You already spent most of the time here and your work is closer from my place than yours. Plus with me having a new role in club, our schedules might go crazy and I want to spent every free minute with you”. Quinn casually said when they were laying on the couch watching a movie.

“It’s a huge step in our relationship Quinny… but I’m ready for it. I would love to move into your place”. Zara said and kissed his cheek.

Next week, the couple was packing Zara’s things from her place to later put them in Quinn’s apartment. Most of the things were already in his place but they still had to pick up the rest. They life living together was like a honeymoon until Quinn got into fixation about healthy food. He was always cooking for both of them and tried to keep balanced diet. Zara started having flashbacks to her life from high school, when she was trying to keep being super healthy but she said nothing to Quinn. One day, she haven’t ate breakfast because she was running late and later, completely forgot about lunch. On her way back to their apartment, she decided to buy pizza for dinner because she wasn’t in a mood for cooking. Zara ate the whole thing on one sitting finishing projects for work. When Quinn came home after the game, he saw the box. He thought she left him some of the pizza but it was just an empty box.

“Wow, you must been really hungry that you ate whole pizza and haven’t even left ma piece”. He joked, hoverer her face fell down when she realized that she ate an entire pizza this afternoon.

“Yeah, I haven’t got time in the morning to eat breakfast and later forgot to go and grab a lunch.” Zara admitted to him ashamed.

“Honey, we talk about it. You have to eat healthy”. Although Quinn meant eating three meals per day but she interpreted this otherwise.

“I know, I’m sorry”. She went to hug him and started asking him about today’s game just to change the topic.

He haven’t missed the way her face fell when he joked but decided not to mention this. Next days were hard for Zara. She had all time in her head Quinn’s words. Every evening when she was getting ready to take shower, she was looking on her body in mirror’s reflection. She started to see how her thighs got bigger and how her stomach wasn’t perfectly flat. She started to wear baggy clothes to cover her body from the world. She was also pushing Quinn away when he wanted to have sex with her. He saw those changes but he thought that she’s just overworked and tired. He haven’t asked anything but tried to be supportive as much as he could.

When Quinn had to left her for a roadie, Zara completely lost it. No one was there to make sure she’s eating proper meals. She started skipping breakfast. On lunch, she was only eating salads. When she was at home, she haven't cooked dinner. She thought that’s the best for her to started looking more attractive for Quinn.

After a week, Quinn came back home and decided to buy them takeout food from their favorite Italian place. He knew, she probably haven’t ate dinner and was waiting for him to eat together. When Quinn stepped into their place, he met unfamiliar cold. Zara wasn’t there to kiss and hug him like she was always doing when he was back from roadie. He saw her sitting in living room and watching a movie.

“Hi honey. I hope you are hungry because I bought us carbonara from the Italian place you love”. He said and kissed her forehead.

“Actually, I’m not hungry babe but feel free to eat yours. I’ll just eat it tomorrow”. She said.

“Okay. Have you ate dinner already?” He asked concerned.

“Well no, but…”

“Then take your pretty ass to the table because you have to eat”. Quinn said surprised at her words.

“I’m really not hungry Quinn”. She started getting irritated at him.

“I’m not playing with you Zara. You either gonna eat with me or I’m gonna force you to do it”. He said firmly.

Knowing that she’s in a lost position, she gave up and went to sit with him at the dinner table. She ate half of her portion and excused herself to the bathroom. In that moment, she was delighted that the bathroom is far from the living room and Quinn couldn’t hear her. Feeling the guilt of eating pasta, she forced herself to throw up. After she was done, she brushed her teeth and came back.

“I can’t eat anymore Quinny. I’ll pack the pasta and bring it to work with me for lunch". She said, knowing that she’s gonna throw the pasta to the trash the minute she leave the apartment for work tomorrow.

“Yeah, sure. What about bath together and just laying in our bed. I’m so tired”. He proposed.

“Sounds like a plan babe.” She went and kissed him.

Two days later, when Quinn and Zara were making out, he started to pull up her hoodie. She stopped him. Quinn finally decided to confront her. He was done with her not wanting to be intimate with him. He also saw that she wasn’t eating breakfast at home, always excusing herself with running late.

“What’s happening with you lately?” He asked in the nicest way he could.

“I don’t know about what you are talking about”.

“Cut the bullshit. I know you are skipping breakfast. I am not dumb not to see you always acting, like you are late and not eating breakfast when we both know it’s a lie. Also, I don’t know what I did wrong to you, but you always push me away when I try to have sex with you. So tell me, what’s happening”. He started getting mad at her with every minute.

“Quinn, I’m telling you, nothing is happening”. She was too ashamed to admit to him her problems and decided to lie.

“Fucking hell Zara. I know you for almost two years. We live together. I know you like the back of my hand. I know that something is wrong with you. You know that I’m here for you to listen and help”. He tried so hard not to yell at her.

“I’m not gonna stand here and listen to you accusations. Everything is fine!” She screamed the last sentence and left, feeling guilt for not telling him truth.

After the argument, both of them were giving each other cold shoulder. She stopped eating at all, even the salads for lunch. He wanted so hard to find out what’s going on with her but after her reaction, he decided not to push her and wait until she tell him.

Couple days later, he accidently walked into the bathroom when she was taking shower. When he saw her, Quinn thought he’s gonna cry. Her ribs was visible through her skin. She looked so skinny that it started to terrify him. He left and went to their bedroom thinking how he should ask her about it without getting into another argument.

“Hey, can we talk?” He asked unsure of her reaction.

“Sure, What’s up?”

“I saw you in the shower”.

“Oh”. That’s all she could say.

“Look, I know something is happening with you and I don’t want to push you but your body looks unhealthy. Why are you doing this to yourself?” He said not knowing where the conversation will take him. She sat quietly for couple minutes before she spoke to him.

“Can you promise me that you won’t get mad at me when I tell you?” She haven’t been looking at him, she kept her eyes on her hands.

“I promise honey”. He saw that she was playing with her nails and decided to replace it with his hand.

“I have a weird relationship with food. I’ve been struggling with it since high school. Every guy I’ve dated cheated one me and I thought it’s my fault. I started eating super healthy but when I saw it’s not getting me anywhere, I decided to skip meals. When I ate something, I felt guilty about it and forced myself to throw up. After graduation, it got better. Sure, I had episodes of skipping meals when I was triggered but it was getting better”. She said with her tears rolling down her face.

“Oh honey, I’m so sorry to hear that”. He hugged her tightly and started to smoothing her hair. After couple of minutes, he decided to ask.

“What was your trigger this time?”

“I don’t think you want to know”. Zara didn’t wanted to make him feel guilty.

“I want to know”. He said softly.

“Remember when you get back home the other day and saw the empty box of pizza?” He nodded.

“This was my trigger. When you pointed out that I ate the whole pizza and said that I have to eat healthy. I felt that you’ll find me unattractive and will cheat on me like others”. She said completely ignoring his presence. He signed, mad at himself for even saying that.

“Zara, I’m so fucking sorry for making you feel this way. It was never my intention. I was just joking but I see now how hurtful it was for you. Please forgive me”. He said with voice full of guilt.

“It’s okay Quinny, you didn’t know”.

“It’s not okay. God, I made you feel bad and I’ll never forgive myself for that”. After couple seconds, Quinn asked again.

“When I brought the pasta after I got back home from roadie and forced you to eat with me, did you… Did you throw up when you excused yourself to the bathroom?” He asked not sure if he’s ready to hear the answer. When Zara haven’t said anything, he knew how big damage he had done.

He hugged her tightly and kissed her forehead. She was crying into his shoulder when he was whispering apologies into her ear.

The next morning, Quinn made breakfast for both of them. When she saw the plate, he was fast to explain.

“I know you struggle now but I want you to eat something. I’m not gonna be forcing the full meal into you and you don’t have to eat all of it. At least try. Step by step”. She felt the love and respect in his voice and decided to bite a little bit of the toast. Before she left, he gave her paper bag.

“I’ve made you lunch. Again, I’m not forcing you but at least eat the granola bar. I love you.” He kissed her cheek.

“Thank you Quinny. Love you too.” She said and gave him a kiss.

Quinn started reading books about eating disorder and was learning everything to know how to help her and not make her feel even worst. He wanted to be the best boyfriend to her knowing that he’s responsible for her relapse into old habits. When he had time, he was preparing her favorite dishes. He made one cupboard in the kitchen with her favorite snacks. Never pushed her to eat full meals but wanted her to eat something.

When Quinn had to leave her for roadie for the first time since she told him about her relationship with food, he was scared. He didn’t wanted her to skip meals while he’s gone but he also knew that he can’t ask her directly if she ate. He decided to face time her every time he knew she was supposed to eat breakfast, lunch or dinner just to check up on her and see if she’s eating at that time.

Two weeks later, Quinn came back home and could smell a steak. He was surprised because he haven’t saw Zara in the kitchen for the past two months. The minute he entered the room she said.

“I thought you might be hungry. I’ve cooked you steak with fries”. She said and went to hug him.

“What about you honey?”

“I already ate dinner”.

“Zara”. He said knowing that she’s lying.

“I’m joking. I’ve made myself pasta with pesto”.

“Good that you have jokes on you but please, let’s not joke about it”. He said firmly.

“I’m sorry Quinny”. After seeing his reaction, she felt bad for even joking about this.

“Hey! Don’t be puffy, it’s fine. I just want to be sure you’re fed and healthy”.

“Ay, ay captain. Now let’s eat before it gets cold”. She grabbed his hand and went to the table with him. After they ate dinner, he said.

“It was delicious honey. I’m so happy you’re back on right tracks. I’m proud of you and I mean it”.

“I don’t know if I would make it without your support. Thank you for everything. I love you”. She went to kiss him but he deepened the kiss.

“Quinn I have to do the dishes, can it wait?” She asked.

“Oh hell no. I haven’t had my time with you for two months and I want to show you how much I love you and how much I adore your body. I want to make sure my girl knows that she’s gorgeous”

He lifted her up and carried her to the bedroom where they had fun all night long.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes oneshot #nhl #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #vancouver canucks #v' work

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ilguna · 24 days ago

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☼ borrowed time (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; finnick made sure you made it out of your games alive, and now its time to pay back the favor. all good deeds come with a price.

warnings; swearing, weapon use, injuries, blood mention, ehh gore, death, the usual hunger games stuff.

wc; 11.8k

It was a sunny August morning when you were first officially introduced to Victor’s Village, two years ago. The mayor’s secretary had been designated to give you a tour, and to explain how the house would work, now that you were a part of the community.

“Unlike some of the other districts,” She began. “Four likes to keep their village neat and green.”

She motioned to the grass, which had been so healthy and bright that it almost looked artificial. The flowers in bloom were designated to beds with bricks. There was a cement fountain, and as you grew closer, you could see just how clear the crystal water was.

When you peeked inside, you found coins sitting at the bottom, as if the victors in the village regularly made wishes.

“You don’t have to worry about upkeep, though. We have a groundskeeper for that. If you have any issues or you see plants that are beginning to go, he needs to be notified immediately.” She said, continuing down the path. “The Capitol likes our garden the most, we frequently have photographers come to take pictures for their magazines.“

“Why?” Your mother asked.

“Because we’re one of the nicer districts.” The secretary told her, going up the steps to a house. “We’re here.”

A hand was then placed on your shoulder, as your father went to move around you, to head in first. The secretary held out her hand, shaking her head.

“It’s customary that the victor enters first. It’s her house, after all.”

“It’s our house.” Your father said back.

“No, it’s hers. If she were to die tomorrow, you would be moved out the same day. Come, (Y/n).” She said.

You followed her instructions, despite knowing how your father felt about control and being the head of the house. You went up the staircase, to the front door, where she encouraged you to open it. After living in a small house, barely scraping by with every paycheck your parents earned, you could finally sleep in peace knowing that your home wasn’t going anywhere.

When you opened the door, it was like opening a new chapter to your life, a new beginning. There wouldn’t be a need to look over your shoulder, to worry about how your life would turn out. It was solved. You won the Hunger Games.

The house was nice for the first month, before your family decided that they hated you. They didn’t like the circumstances in which you had been given the home. And they would rather be far away from you, in the house you’d grown up in, where you were no longer welcome.

Now, you live in a place that sits cold, still and quiet. Despite it being a beautiful summer day, there is a weight that sits on this house. It came when the Quarter Quell had been announced in the winter, and it hasn’t left since. As if you’d forget what would be coming for you in a few months.

How could you, though? President Snow read the card live in front of the entirety of Panem without an ounce of hesitation. He told you that victors would be reaped this year. Everyone heard it, and it’s been echoing in their minds since.

Especially you, considering for the past couple of days, you’ve done nothing but weigh the pros and cons of going back inside of the arena. It would not be for the fun and the honor of having a second title. It would not be for the benefit of more money, which had originally pulled your family out of a dark hole they were desperate to leave.

If you were to volunteer today, it would be for the family you found after you won and your family had abandoned you. It would be for the woman who showed you the love you should’ve received from your mother. For the girl you see as an older sister. For the boy who mentored you, and saved you from becoming just another tribute face from Four that didn’t make it.

There has been a lot of talk among the District Four victors about who would have to be the two tributes to go inside. There isn’t a lot of room for conversation regarding the boys, but the girls are a different story. No one can agree on who it should be, it’s a hard decision to make.

And a decision that shouldn’t be made at all.

Which is why you have gotten closer and closer to making up your mind about being the female tribute for the Quarter Quell. If it’s not you, then it’s Mags, and she shouldn’t have to go back inside. She won over sixty years ago, she doesn’t know how vicious the arena can be, and her body won’t be able to handle the excursion.

And from what you heard, Finnick is supposed to be the male tribute. He’s agreed to volunteer, not that anyone has any real opposition. But that means he’ll be taking care of Mags inside of the arena, which can slow him down and get killed.

While you, on the other hand, can help him. You won recently, your body is still in shape, you can keep him alive. The same way he kept you alive when you needed him the most.

You’ll be paying back the favor by doing this, making sure he gets out of the arena alive so he can come home to Four, where he’s loved the most.

It won’t be easy, but it’s what has to be done.

You step out of your house, pulling the door shut quietly behind you. As soon as the sun touches your skin, you begin to sweat. The July heat in District Four is no joke, if you spend too much time outside, you’ll get sunburnt. And there is no affordable remedy for those who are living at the bottom.

As you leave the village, you eye the houses, half of them barren like yours due to the reaping. Everyone else has already left, they made no effort to be quiet. You would’ve gone with the group, if it weren’t for the fact that you wanted more time alone to think, before you were forced to be on camera.

The journey to the Justice Building starts alone, but the closer you get, the more people appear, coming together to walk in a crowd. Except, it doesn’t matter how thick it gets, because no one comes close to you, giving you space. A halo.

Once you get close to the stage, most of the people disappear to go to their designated spot. While you get to continue forward, to the Peacekeepers, who are awaiting your arrival. You can see the other victors have made it, standing in groups on the stage, making you the last one to arrive.

The Peacekeepers don’t need your name, they recognize your face. They move aside when you’re close, allowing you to pass. You head up the steps one at a time, taking deep breaths. The cameras will be on soon, or maybe they already are, hungry to catch the reaction on your faces.

You half-expect the regular row of chairs on the stage when you make it to the top of the staircase, but you’re met with something new, different. Usually, there’s a long row of chairs, and the victors of Four sit in the order of which they won. With you joining two years ago, it makes you the chair on the far right, one after Annie. While Mags is the first chair on the left, since she’s the oldest surviving victor.

Well, this year there are no chairs. There are two pens on opposite sides of the stage, one for the female victors, and one for the male victors. Just like how it usually is for the teenage boys and girls of the district. However, they’re allowed to intermingle for this reaping, considering they’re not the ones going to be chosen.

You wander to where Finnick is, with the few other male victors. He’s got his attention set on Annie, who’s being comforted by a few of the other girls. He breaks away to look at you, eyebrows already raised.

“It took you a while to get here, everything okay?” He asks.

“Yeah, I was just clearing my head.” You tell him, moving your hair out of your face. “Is Annie…?” You trail off, letting him assume what you were going to ask.

His face drops a little. “She’s having a hard time standing in the ropes, it’s bringing her back.”

“Does she know the plan?”

Finnick nods, eyes finding the ground. “Yes, and I think that’s what’s making it worse.” He clears his throat. “Mags is going to volunteer.”

“Wasn’t that always what she was going to do?” You ask, not bothering to correct him. Mags will try to volunteer, and fail, because you will move faster than she does. But that will only work if you’re not the one picked out of the bowl.

“Yes,” Finnick murmurs. “I wish it didn’t have to be her.”

You open your mouth to speak, but a voice calling your name cuts you off, causing you to look over. It’s your Capitol escort, motioning for you to join the rest of the female victors. She taps the empty spot on her left wrist to tell you that it’s almost time for the reaping to start.

“You should go. She’s been pretty anxious this morning.” He tells you.

“I’ll see you later.” You tell him, leaving.

You join the others, who hold the rope up to help you slip underneath it easier. Mags places a hand on your shoulder, forcing you to make eye contact with her so she can check on you. With her, you almost never need to tell her how you feel, she can see it. It’s nice most of the time, but right now, she might see something different, more than just sorrow.

“Your family?” She asks, speech slurred.

“They didn’t come to visit.” You tell her, causing her to frown. You shrug, “I didn’t expect them to, anyway. I wouldn’t have let them in the house.” You give her a smile. “Besides, you’re my family, Mags.”

She touches your cheek with the back of her hand. “My daughter.”

The Capitol escort then appears, “They’re going to start in less than a minute. You’ll be on camera, do not make a scene.”

She then hurries to the boys side to give them the same warning. You wonder if these are her instructions, the mayors or Snows. You can only imagine what will happen to those you love if you were to step out of line and say something they don’t want you to.

Although, at this point, you have nothing to lose with your family. They’re out there, somewhere. You can’t find them in the sea of faces that watch the stage. A part of you knows they’re waiting to see if you’ll get chosen so they can swallow up your home. Since you won’t be there to occupy it and tell them no.

You have a feeling that the other victors of Four might tell them to leave, but they might be too caught up in the Quarter Quell to care. If only you could get the chance to tell them, yourself. They lost the right to be in that house when they decided you were a monster for fighting for your life. What else were you supposed to do, die?

Before your thought can continue, the mayor comes up to the podium, causing the citizens of District Four to hush. They listen as he tells the history of Panem, like he does every year. The speech only takes a couple of minutes. When he’s done, he reads the names of the past District Four victors, ending with you.

The escort, Chesna, replaces the mayor at the podium. She places her hands flat on the podium, a habit she started after Annie won. It was like she finally realized the impact the Games had on the survivors. Or so Finnick says.

“Happy Hunger Games,” She speaks smoothly, not an ounce of excitement in her tone. “May the odds be ever in your favor.” There’s a moment of silence. “We will start with the gentlemen.”

Chesna moves away from the microphone, heading to the glass bowl to her right. It’s not entirely unusual for her to start with the men first, sometimes she likes to change the order. She says that it keeps things exciting in the Capitol, and it keeps her from being replaced.

As much as Snow likes order, he can appreciate unpredictability on occasion. Chesna doesn’t push her limits.

She stops in front of the table, reaching her hand inside for one of the few papers that sit at the bottom. She stirs them, giving everyone a fair chance, before picking one off the side. She carries it to the podium, where she carefully unfolds the paper.

Her shoulders fall, “Finnick Odair.”

In the matter of seconds, his life has changed. And so has your mind, solidifying your decision. No one will volunteer for him, and no one does. He steps out of the pen, taking a few steps forward to stop behind the glass bowl his name was just picked from.

He looks over, meeting your eyes, and giving you a nod.

“Now for the ladies.” Chesna says, voice quieter.

She takes Finnick’s paper with her to the girls bowl. She repeats what she did for the boys, sticking her hand inside, stirring the papers, and then picking one from the middle. She pulls it out, takes it with her to the podium, and then unfolds it.

There’s a pause for a few seconds, you can hear her take a breath through the microphone. Your heart begins to beat in your chest, morbidly curious if your luck is so bad to allow you to get picked twice when given the opportunity.

“Annie Cresta.”

There’s a scream from beside you, coming from Annie. You wince at the pitch and intensity, right in your ear. Mags reaches over to comfort her, probably before she officially volunteers. This is her mistake, because it gives you the perfect window without having to rush to do it.

“I volunteer.” You speak, just loud enough to get Chesna’s attention.

She turns, eyes landing on you. “You volunteer?”

“Yes, I volunteer.” You tell her.

A hand grabs your arm, squeezing tightly. You turn to see that it’s Mags, who seems to have forgotten about Annie. She’s sobbing into her hands, either out of horror or gratitude that the female victors of Four would come to her rescue.

Mags taps her chest, face screwed hard, shaking her head at you. Disappointment. This is not how she wanted the reaping to go. She wanted to be the one to go, to protect the girls she sees as her daughters. This was not part of her plan.

“I’ve got this.” You tell her in a quiet voice. “Trust me.”

Her lips are pressed in a thin line, unhappy. She lets you go, you step over the rope and head to your spot behind the bowl. Chesna turns back to the microphone.

“Our tributes this year are (Y/n) (L/n) and Finnick Odair.” She moves back, away from the podium to allow the mayor to wrap up.

All he does is read the Treaty of Treason before turning in your direction, motioning for you to shake hands, keeping custom. You turn to Finnick, and find the same expression that Mags had, on his face. You hold out your hand, he takes it.

You shake once, sealing your fate.

—

“Let’s take a break.” Katniss suggests, looking between the three of you. “I need to get another look from above.”

Finnick gives her a nod, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He briefly looks at the wetness on his thumb before rubbing it off on his jumpsuit, shaking his head.

It doesn’t take a genius to know what he’s thinking, because you have the exact same thing on your mind; it’s hot.

And this is coming from a pair of people who are no strangers to the heat. There have been countless times where District Four has almost broken its own blistering record. Which shouldn’t be possible. You can feel it the most in the summer, especially if you’re out there working on the water.

While golden tans are common, so are deep sunburns.

The arena is a different type of heat, it doesn’t have the dryness you get back home. It’s the opposite, actually. It’s humid, partially due to the jungle, partially because you’re trapped in a giant terrarium. Between the saltwater lake, the luscious greenery and the white hot sun—you’re being boiled alive.

There’s nothing you can do about it, either. The shade provided by the tall trees and the giant leaves are no relief from the temperature. You’re stuck dealing with wet hair and sticky skin.

It doesn’t help that you can’t find any water.

This is what Katniss will look for while she scales the tallest tree. It’s on all of your minds. You watch her wedge her toes and fingers into gaps in the bark, pulling herself up. Once she reaches the branches, she disappears, moving quicker.

This leaves you, Finnick and Peeta to enjoy each other’s company. The four of you have been running away from the Cornucopia for over an hour, trying to get distance from the Careers. You’re thirty, and you’d do almost anything for a glass of cold water.

”How’re you feeling?” Finnick asks, leaning against a nearby tree. He’s got his trident gripped in his hand loosely, tired of carrying it.

“Better.” Peeta says, rubbing his legs. “The more we walk, the less stiff I feel.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t die.” You tell him, shaking your head.

It took you all by surprise when the sparks flew after he hit the force field with his machete. For a second, you thought he might’ve swiped at a rock, and you were briefly impressed before he got thrown back, knocking you all down.

“I’m lucky you’re our allies.” Peeta agrees, motioning at the gold bracelet on Finnick’s wrist, referencing Haymitch.

He got a bracelet, while you have nothing to show. Finnick has done everything in his power to make it clear to everyone that you’re following his lead. You weren’t meant to volunteer, Mags would never have been so cruel to agree to it beforehand.

Haymitch listened to Finnick, despite the many times you asked him to include you on the rebel plan they were figuring out. He never did. He told you he has enough on his plate with Katniss and Peeta, the last thing he needs is another teenager to protect.

He didn’t necessarily call you Finnick’s problem outright, but he definitely heavily implied it.

You’ll take it for now, but you have a feeling you’ll be more help than they could’ve imagined, later on down the line. You’re an extra pair of fighting hands, while Mags would not have been. And anything she can build in a moment's notice, you can too. It’s not an exclusive skill.

Besides, you don’t think Finnick actually wanted to bring Mags into the arena, he knows what would’ve inevitably happened. There’s less risk with you. You can keep yourself safe, and more importantly, him.

“We wanted to be allies from the beginning, but Katniss has more of a…” You trail off, looking into the trees, trying to find the word, “Cautious palette.” Your eyes land back on Peeta. “With others our age, that’s not really the case. Besides, Finnick can come off strong.”

Finnick scowls at you, mostly because you’re undermining him, but Peeta lets out a sigh and nods. “I think Katniss will come around to that, though.”

“We hope so.”

The rustling of leaves overhead halts the conversation, causing you to look to make sure that it’s Katniss coming down the tree, and not some jungle bird. She’s carefully lowering herself, one arm length at a time. Peeta stands at the base, hands outstretched to catch her, just in case her hand slips.

She makes it though, landing on her feet in the grass. She brushes debris off the front of her jumpsuit before turning to face you. “The force field has us trapped in a circle. A dome, really. I don’t know how high it goes. There’s the Cornucopia, the sea, and then the jungle all around. Very exact. Very symmetrical. And not very large.”

“Did you see any water?” Finnick asks.

“Only the saltwater where we started the Games.” She answers, shaking her head.

“There must be some other source,” Peeta frowns. “Or we’ll all be dead in a matter of days.”

“Well, the foliage is thick. Maybe there are ponds or springs somewhere.” Katniss suggests, but she doesn’t seem all that convinced, herself. “At any rate, there’s no point in trying to find out what’s over the edge of this hill, because the answer is nothing.”

“There has to be drinkable water between the force field and the wheel.” You insist.

Collectively, the four of you agree to head back down the slope a couple hundred yards, still circling to see if you’ll come across water. Katniss leads, determined to come across something. By midafternoon, it’s clear you have to stop, because all you’re doing is exhausting yourselves.

Finnick decides he wants to keep close to the force field, so Katniss takes her time to make a hard line in the spongy dirt to ensure no one gets close enough to accidentally hurt themselves. Peeta goes around nearby trees, digging in the grass to collect nuts, which Katniss initially refuses to let him eat.

It isn’t until you’re allowed a closer look, are you able to tell them that they’re fine and the nuts are edible. You can’t place your finger on what kind they are exactly, all you remember is your time in the Training Center a couple years ago. You took the time to memorize every little detail you could for a forest arena, because that would be your biggest bet to survival.

Since you’re able to identify the nuts, Katniss lets Peeta continue to gather them. He even goes on to roast them by bouncing them off the force field. Once he’s done, he peels off the shells one by one, placing the meats on a large leaf.

Katniss guards, walking around occasionally, wiping the sweat from her face. You sit at the base of a tree, near Finnick, plucking long leaves from jungle plants to weave mats. They’re hard to get started, but once you get a pattern down, it’s pretty much smooth sailing from there. Before you know it, you’re working on your third.

“Finnick, why don’t you stand guard and I’ll hunt around some more for water.” Katniss suggests, shaking her head.

“You want to go off alone?” Peeta asks, lips pressed together.

“It’ll be faster that way.” She reasons. “Don’t worry, I won’t go far.”

“I’ll go, too.” He says, starting to move to get to his feet.

“No, I’m going to do some hunting if I can.” She tells him, raising her eyebrows. “I won’t be long.”

“Stay within shouting distance.” You tell her. “I’m a quick runner.”

Katniss nods, and then heads off into the trees. It’s fairly quiet between the three of you, besides the sound of nuts singeing. You keep a careful eye on Finnick, watching how far he goes, when he hesitates to move away.

You want to tell him that there’s no reason to patrol just yet. The bloodbath is still going on, meaning a majority of the tributes are fighting for their lives. And if you do run across anyone in the jungle, there’s a seventy percent chance they’re an ally, rather than some district that got left out.

More importantly, the Careers aren’t going to be out here roaming quite yet. If you were him, you’d be saving your energy. Especially since the more he paces, the more he sweats out the water he drank this morning. You all have a better chance at sitting it out right now to see if the heat dies down before wasting your energy on meaningless tasks like guarding.

The real challenge will come tonight, when you’ll wish you could be sleeping, but you’re flinching at every little noise instead. True paranoia comes out in the dark. You remember what that was like.

It has to be another hour before the first cannon comes through, causing your fingers to freeze in place so you can listen properly. They come one at a time, making it easy to count, until it finally stops at eight.

Your hands lower to rest in your lap as you turn to look at Finnick, who has his eyes set on you. One-third of the competition has been taken out already, and you won’t be able to know who for a few more hours.

“Sixteen left.” Peeta murmurs.

Neither of you say anything back to him.

After making a few mats out of the grass and leaves, you begin to tie them together to form one large hut. It has three walls, a floor and a roof. You’ve made it just big enough to fit three people in it at a time, assuming that one of you will always be on watch.

When you’re done, Peeta asks if you’ll make him bowls, which you agree to. They’re small and easy to put together. He fills them with handfuls of the nuts he’s been roasting, setting them aside for later.

With nothing else to do, you offer for Finnick to lay down in the hut while you take watch, but all he does is give you a look before turning away. It’s cold of him to do, and it would mean more if you didn’t know that it won’t last long. Once he’s exhausted, he’s going to look to someone else to keep an eye on Katniss and Peeta.

You’ll let him think that he can wait until you’re with Johanna and Blight, two people who are older and more responsible. You know better than that. As soon as the sun goes down, he’ll feel the effects of the day, including the heat, and then he’ll be asking you to take over.

The sound of rustling leaves causes all three of you to turn toward the noise. It’s only Katniss, bow on her shoulder, carrying something at her side. She shakes her head. “No. No water. It’s out there, though. He knew where it was,” She says, holding up a skinned rodent for you to see better. “He’d been drinking recently when I shot him out of a tree, but I couldn’t find his source. I swear, I covered every inch of ground in a thirty-yard radius.”

“Can we eat him?” Peeta asks.

“I don’t know for sure. But his meat doesn’t look that different from a squirrel’s. He ought to be cooked…” She trails off, you press your lips together.

You all very well know the danger of lighting a fire in an arena. It’s like waving the white flag. You’re going to signal to everyone that you’re here. Sure, you could probably get some time with a fire before they show up, but it won’t be worth the effort of putting it together. Besides, it’s so hot in here that sitting next to one will be torture.

Peeta has a different idea, though. He has Katniss cube the meat, and then he skewers it on the tip of a pointed stick. He lets the stick fall into the force field, causing the meat to sizzle. It’s black on the outer layer, but upon pulling the meat apart, it’s well cooked on the inside.

It takes time for Peeta to char each chunk of meat, but by the end, the four of you are hungry. He takes his bowls and joins you in the hut, allowing you to start. You take turns on the meat, since it’s in such scarce quantities. As for the nuts, you take handfuls and pop them into your mouth.

While you eat, Finnick has many questions regarding the animal—which they settle on calling a tree rat. How high it was, how long did she watch it for before killing it, and what it was doing? She tries to make her answers detailed, but she honestly doesn’t remember the tree rat doing anything that stood out. It was just climbing on the trees, snuffing around.

The sun sinks into the horizon, bringing on the night. The conversation between Finnick and Katniss fizzles out as you gather at the mouth of the hut to watch the sky. It brightens when the Capitol seal appears, and in the far distance, you think you can make out the notes of the anthem.

The first face to appear in the sky is the man from District Five, the one that Finnick killed at the Cornucopia. This means the tributes from Districts One through Four have made it out alive. All four Careers, Wiress and Beetee, and obviously, you and Finnick.

The next is the morphling addict from District Six, then Cecelia and Woof from Eight, both from Nine, the woman from Ten, and the woman from Eleven. The Capitol seal reappears in the sky with the ending notes of the anthem, and then the sky goes dark. Only the moon remains.

There’s a moment of silence after. You close your eyes, hands flat on your knees as you take a breath. Cecelia and Woof are a tragedy, especially to you. You know—knew—both of them very well. You met Cecelia while you were mentoring for the first time, and she provided a lot of insight for you. As for Woof, she talked about him a lot, how he was one of the reasons why she did so well in her Games, even at his age. You were happy to meet him this year, even though you knew what would be coming.

If Mags had come instead, she easily could’ve died like Woof. Finnick would have done everything in his power to make sure it didn’t happen, but it would’ve been a possibility regardless. Nature will run its course, no matter what you do to step in the way of it.

You open your eyes.

A silent silver parachute appears in the air, landing at the feet of Peeta. No one immediately moves to grab it.

“Whose is it, do you think?” Katniss asks after a few seconds.

“No telling.” Finnick says. “Why don’t we let Peeta claim it, since he died today?”

Peeta lets out an amused breath. He unties the cord, flattening out the circle of silk. In the center sits a small metal object, unfamiliar to you. Your face twists, you look at Finnick to see his reaction, and find it just as quizzical.

“What is it?” Katniss asks, picking it up off the cloth.

She turns it over in her fingers, examining it, feeling every inch of it before passing it to Finnick, who does the same. He passes it to Peeta, who finally hands it to you. It’s a metal tube, tapered at one end. On the other end is a lip, a tunnel, that curves downward.

Peeta blows air through it to see if it makes noise, it doesn’t. Finnick sticks his pinky in it, testing it out as a weapon, ridiculous.

“Can you fish with it?” Katniss asks, looking at you.

You shake your head. “It’s not anything I’ve seen before.”

Katniss rolls it back and forth on her palm, thinking to herself. She stares off into the trees, making various expressions. She wipes the sweat from her face, holding it out in the moonlight. No matter how many angles she looks at it from, it makes no sense.

She lets out an irritated sigh, jamming one end of it into the dirt. “I give up. Maybe if we hook up with Beetee or Wiress they can figure it out.”

Katniss stretches, laying down in the hut, staring at the metal object in the dirt. Peeta massages her back. You slide out, wanting to stand up. Finnick watches as you take a few steps away, knife in your hand. You cross your arms, looking down at him with your eyebrows raised.

He shakes his head at you.

Less than a minute later, Katniss gasps. “A spile!” She says, sitting upright.

“What?” Finnick asks.

Katniss grabs the object, brushing the dirt off. She holds it up to the light again, running her finger over the lip. “It’s a spile. Sort of like a faucet. You put it in a tree and sap comes out.” She lowers the object and looks at the trees around her. “Well, the right sort of tree.”

“Sap?” You ask.

“To make syrup,” Peeta clarifies. “But there must be something else inside these trees.”

They get up at once, eyes wild and eyeing the trees, which must have water in them. Finnick plucks the spile from Katniss’s hands and goes to hammer it into the green bark of a large tree with a rock, when she stops him. “Wait. You might damage it. We need to drill a hole first.”

You reach into your waistband, grabbing out one of the smaller knives you don’t mind parting with. Peeta takes it, and gets to driving it into the tree. He takes turns with Finnick opening up the hole. Once it can hold the spile, Katniss carefully wiggles it in, and then takes a step back.

The four of you stare, waiting for something to happen. It takes almost a full minute for a single drop of water to come rolling out of the tube, dripping off the lip. Katniss goes to readjust it, changing angles, which allows a thin stream of water to begin to come out.

A sigh of relief leaves your lips at the sight of water. You each take turns drinking from the spile, desperate to combat the amount of sweat that has been leaving your body these past few hours. When you finally step away from your turn, coughing, you head to the hut.

There’s a bowl with a few nuts still sitting inside, so you shake out the meat onto the flooring, and then head back to the spile. It’ll be easier to drink out of a bowl, you’ll be able to take in more after it’s been filled. The others back off long enough for you to get it halfway full, which is when thirst takes over again, and you begin to take several gulps.

Once drunk, the bowl is refilled, and the water is used to clean the sweat off your faces. The water’s warm, a disappointment, but when a breeze blows through, it cools your skin. When your thirst is quenched, you return to the hut, sitting inside with your knees pulled to your chest.

Everyone is clearly exhausted from the workout of hiking through the jungle all day. Katniss pulls the spile from the tree and ties it to her belt using a thin vine. She then comes to join you in the hut, with Peeta and Finnick following close behind.

“I can take first watch.” Finnick says, fiddling with the trident in his hands. “Let you get some rest.”

Katniss nods, no arguments coming from her. She and Peeta curl up together on the left side of the hut, leaving the entire right side to you. You and Finnick have a staring contest for a long while, and right when you go to tell him to wake you when he’s tired, he turns away and leaves.

“I’ll take next watch.” Katniss says without rolling over.

“I’ll wake you when I’m tired.” Finnick tells her.

You grit your teeth and hold your tongue. Katniss is younger than you and less responsible, but he doesn’t have an issue with her taking watch? You swear he’s completely backward.

Either way, you take the opportunity to sleep. It doesn’t take very long, with the sound of Finnick shuffling through the grass, and the insects in the background. The background noise lulls you to sleep in the matter of seconds.

And you’re woken just as easily a few hours later by the sound of a bell echoing through the arena. You jerk into an upright position, knife in hand, squinting into the darkness. Finnick is a few feet away from you, paused and listening.

When it stops, he turns to face you and Katniss, the only other two awake. Peeta has slept through the bells entirely. “I counted twelve.” Finnick says.

Katniss nods, agreeing. “Mean anything, do you think?”

“No idea.” You murmur.

You wait in silence for an announcement that never comes. You’re just beginning to relax, when a sparkling bolt of lightning strikes a tree across the arena. Thunder cracks, you jump at the intensity, wincing.

“Go to sleep, Finnick. It’s my turn to watch, anyway.” Katniss says.

Finnick makes a face, even gives you a look, but he comes to join you and Peeta inside of the hut. Katniss gets up, loads her bow, and wanders over to a large rock to lean against.

You watch for a few curious minutes as the lightning continuously strikes the same tree, never moving from that one spot. A voice in the back of your mind tells you to remember this, and then suddenly it becomes insignificant enough for you to go back to bed.

A part of you doesn’t allow you to fully sleep. You drift in and out of consciousness, as every little change in noise brings you off the brink. You can hear when the lightning comes to an end, which can’t be more than an hour later, only for rain to start after. This keeps you awake for several minutes, wondering why the rain hadn’t begun sooner.

A cannon goes off, a sigh of frustration leaves you. You turn on your side, clamping your arms over your ears to block any further noises from reaching you. It works for maybe thirty minutes, before your eyes pop open at the realization that the rain has come to a sudden end. All at once.

You sit up, unhappy and groggy. Katniss spares you a glance, but she’s more focused on the trees. It’s not normal for rain to stop altogether, it’ll slowly fade out to a drizzle first. This means that the rain was artificial, started by the Gamemakers. And with how quick the lightning stopped, you’ll even bet that they did that, too…

Suspicious, you open your mouth to speak to Katniss, but the words die in your throat when you watch fog begin to slide in your direction, coming from where it was raining just moments ago. It’s thick and white, and its pace isn’t slowing, it’s steadily coming for you.

Your hand grabs Finnick’s thigh, squeezing tightly as you begin to shake him awake, hard. Katniss doesn’t really move from where she sits on the rocks, watching as the fog comes closer. A sugary smell invades your sinuses, Katniss blinks as if she’s been slapped.

You watch in horror as the fog begins to wrap around Katniss’s legs, she jumps to her feet, “Run!” She screams, which is all the confirmation you need. “Run!”

The fog is engineered.

Finnick snaps awake, on his feet in a single second, trident in hand as if he’s going to defend your camp against an intruder. You fly across the hut to pull Peeta to his feet, but it’s not easy. He’s heavy and half-asleep. It isn’t until Finnick steps in to help, do you need the Twelve tribute up.

You grab Finnick’s wrist, yanking him out of the hut and diagonally downward to the beach, away from every direction the fog comes at you. Katniss and Peeta are right behind you.

“What is it? What is it?” Peeta asks.

“Some kind of fog. Poisonous gas. Hurry, Peeta!” Katniss urges.

You cover a good amount of ground, occasionally looking back to check on Katniss and Peeta to make sure they’re coming, but they’ve lost momentum. Peeta has to follow directly behind Katniss to watch her feet, but even then, his prosthetic leg is getting stuck in the snarls of roots.

“We’re going to have a problem on our hands.” You tell Finnick, releasing the grip you have on him.

“What?” Finnick asks, pace slowing to see what you mean.

You both turn in time to watch as Peeta takes a hand fall, almost smacking his face on a root. Katniss tries to help him to his feet, but completely freezes as she stares at him. For a second, you’re sure he’s dead, until a spasm runs up her arm, uncontrollably twitching.

“Shit.” Finnick spits, turning to run back to help.

Katniss jerks backward, causing Peeta to stumble again. By the time Finnick gets there to help, the both of them are a mess. Katniss’s arms are out of commission, and every step Peeta takes is chunky and out of character. Katniss has to wedge her shoulder beneath Peeta’s arm to help even slightly.

They make it down another ten yards before Finnick tells Katniss to run, while he carries Peeta. You don’t move from where your feet are planted in the dirt until Finnick is keeping a decent pace in front of the fog.

Together, you travel as far as your legs will allow you. No matter how careful you try to be, the fog manages to swipe at you in several places. Your arms, your legs, up the side of your neck, on the heels of your feet. No matter what you do, you don’t stop moving, pushing past the burning pain in your thighs and calves.

Katniss trips over a root, hits the ground hand, and rolls down a hill. It’s not even thirty seconds later when the same happens to Finnick. Peeta goes flying, Finnick’s entire front half slams into the dirt, and he’s too exhausted to pick himself up. You try to slow your pace to avoid joining them, but your foot tangles in Finnick’s boot.

The impact doesn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. All your thoughts scramble as you roll several times before coming to a sudden stop. You’re stuck gasping for air, staring into the foliage above, not an ounce of energy left to pick yourself up to keep running.

Katniss mutters out something incoherent, and then clears her throat. “It’s stopped.”

A wave of bliss runs over your body, you close your eyes. You’re not going to die, at least not tonight.

—

The arena’s a clock, and you had a feeling it was something along those lines. After what happened early this morning, you knew the Gamemakers were up to something, there had to be another twist. It couldn’t just be the fact that victors were reaped to be this year's tributes, they had to do something to the arena, too.

You tried telling Finnick about your theory after the monkey mutt incident, but he didn’t want to listen, of course. It wasn’t until you came across Johanna, Wiress and Beetee, did it begin to really click. Especially since Wiress was stuck on loop, repeating, “Tick tock”.

Katniss listened to what Johanna had to say about the rain last night, which had turned out to be blood. Which had her thinking about what you had to say about Gamemaker interference. And with Wiress losing her mind, she pieced it together, herself.

“(Y/n)’s right.” Katniss suddenly said. “The arena’s a clock. And Wiress knows it, too.”

The validation from them was nice, but the look on Finnick’s face was priceless. You couldn’t help the smile you gave him. It was a way to say, “See, I can be smart and helpful”. But you think that irritated him more than anything.

Peeta carefully lays Beetee in the little bit of shade the Cornucopia provides. Beetee calls out to Wiress, causing her to come over and crouch beside him. He passes a coil of wire to her—which he had risked his life to get out of the Cornucopia during the bloodbath—and asks, “Clean it, will you?”

Wiress nods, and then heads to the edge of the center island to dunk the coil in the water. She starts to quietly sing to herself, some song about a mouse running up a clock. You’ve never heard it before.

“Oh, not the song again.” Johanna says, heavily rolling her eyes. She’s had enough of them. “That went on for hours before she started tick-tocking.”

Suddenly, Wiress gets to her feet, ominously pointing to a part of the jungle. “Two.”

You follow her finger, and find that the fog has just begun to creep onto the beach. “Yes, look, Wiress is right.” Katniss says. “It’s two o’clock and the fog has started.”

“Like clockwork,” Peeta says. “You were very smart to figure that out, Wiress.”

Wiress smiles, as if she already knows that, and goes right back to singing to herself and dunking the coil.

“Oh, she’s more than smart,” Beetee tells you. “She’s intuitive. She can sense things before anyone else. Like a canary in one of your coal mines.”

“What’s that?” Finnick asks Katniss, causing several heads to turn in her direction.

“It’s a bird that we take down into the mines to warn us if there’s bad air.” She says.

“What’s it do, die?” Johanna asks morbidly.

“It stops signing first. That’s when you should get out. But if the air’s too bad, it dies, yes. And so do you.” She says, walking away to look through the weapons in the Cornucopia.

Johanna is right behind her, poking around, overturning boxes. She’s searching for something in particular, and it doesn’t take a genius to know that it’s an axe. She comes up with a pair of them, and launches one at the sun-softened gold of the Cornucopia. It sticks.

Peeta squats on the ground in the sun, using the tip of a machete’s blade to draw a large circle, a smaller circle at the center, twelve spokes, the waterline. He moves quickly, as if he’s been waiting to do this all day.

“Look at how the Cornucopia’s positioned.” Peeta tells Katniss.

She wanders over, standing over his shoulder to look at his map. “The tail points toward twelve o’clock.” She says.

“Right, so this is the top of our clock,” he says, writing the numbers one through twelve around the circle. “Twelve to one is the lightning zone.” He goes on to write lightning in the wedge it belongs, moving clockwise to add blood, fog and monkeys in the next three sections.

“And ten to eleven is the wave.” Katniss says, he adds it.

Johanna and Finnick join the three of you, curious of what you’re up to. You glance at them out of habit, but have to do a double-take when you realize just how many blades they have strapped to their bodies. Tridents, axes, knives. You think Finnick even has an extra sheath of arrows for Katniss on his back.

It makes you feel unprepared, even though you took your time to select your spread of knives yesterday, during the bloodbath. While Katniss and Finnick were searching the water and fending off the Careers, you meticulously went through every set until you found the one that would be perfect for you. A match made in heaven.

“Did you notice anything unusual in the others?” Katniss asks Johanna and Beetee. They shake their heads, only mentioning the blood. “I guess they could hold anything.”

“I’m going to mark the ones where we know the Gamemakers’ weapon follows us out past the jungle, so we’ll stay clear of those.” Peeta says, drawing a diagonal line on the fog and wave beaches. He then sits back. “Well, it’s a lot more than we knew this morning, anyway.

Everyone nods in agreement, you look out to the jungle, curious on what else could be out there. You’ve just barely scratched the surface…

Your heart seizes in your chest at the sight of a dripping Gloss, sliding his knife across Wiress’s throat. In two jerky movements, you’ve thrown a knife at him, at the same time that Katniss has shot an arrow. While your knife slams into the center of his forehead, her arrow pierces his heart.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Cashmere running up the side of the island, but before you can even think of grabbing another knife, Johanna has buried an axe in Cashmere’s chest.

You turn, attention focused on Finnick and repaying the favor, when you see Brutus. All you can do is tackle Finnick and Peeta, bringing them both down to the sand, narrowly missing the spear that ricochets off the Cornucopia.

As you get up to follow them, Finnick pulls you back down, keeping you from moving from your spot. You watch helplessly as Katniss runs after the Careers by herself. In quick succession, three cannons sound, one after the other, confirming the three obvious deaths.

Right as Finnick’s grip loosens, and he begins to pull himself upright, the ground beneath you jerks, and you’re thrown on top of Finnick. The island the Cornucopia sits on top of begins to spin, gaining speed with every passing second, turning the jungle into one big blended blur.

You begin to slide through the sand, toward the water, due to the sheer amount of force. You try to save yourself by digging your fingers and shoes into the sand, desperate to hang on to anything, but it barely works. You almost make it to the edge of the island, feeling the mist of the saltwater on your face, when you come to a hard stop.

You pull yourself to your knees, rubbing the sand out of the corners of your eyes, squinting. Katniss comes stumbling around the side of the Cornucopia, using it to hold herself up. From what you can tell, Peeta, Finnick and Johanna have managed to hang on.

None of you move from where you are, trying to catch your breaths and come back to reality. The dizziness begins to subside after a minute, enough to the point where you feel comfortable to be on your feet. The others are quick to follow.

“Where’s Volts?” Johanna asks.

Her question causes you to take a lap around the island, searching the saltwater for the man. You find him about twenty yards out, paddling hard to come back to the group. You shed your knives onto the strip of sand, diving into the water to save him without a second thought.

It doesn’t take long to reach him, and he’s still calm enough to allow you to tow him back to land. There was one time when you were in grade school—one of the younger kids was still learning how to swim. He swam out too far and he was struggling to swim back to shore.

There’s an unspoken rule in District Four when it comes to people drowning, especially children. Even if they don’t belong to you, you go out there and save them. Their guardians could be a foot away, but if your eyes catch them first, then you need to be the one to fish them out.

Anyway, you were clearly the first to find the boy, so you went out there to get him, thinking that it was going to be easy. Obviously, the citizens of Four know a variety of swimming techniques, and you expected this kid to at least know a few. So, when you got to him, you let him grab you, thinking nothing of it.

And you almost drowned because of it.

It turns out that when people are struggling to keep their heads above water, their self-preservation kicks in. The fight or flight response. In this case, he used you as a human ladder to climb himself higher above water, pushing you down in the process. It took another two adults to come and save you after that.

Needless to say, you’re overly cautious when it comes to pulling people out of water, now. You have to be. And with a grown man like Beetee, who weighs more than you, he could push you under and keep you there. It’s a dangerous game to play.

Once you get him back to land, Peeta and Finnick work to help pull him back on the sand strip. You pull yourself up, and ring out what little clothes you have on. After the fog, the suits you were sent into the arena with completely disintegrated. You collect your knives from the sand, and follow the others back to the mouth of the Cornucopia.

Katniss is soggy now, too. She holds the coil of water in one of her hands, and the bow in the other. She probably had to pull it off of Wiress’s body. In one fluid motion, she sets it on Beetee’s lap, while he cleans his glasses. When he’s done, he unravels a small bit of the wire to inspect it.

Katniss moves to be with Peeta.

“Let’s get off this stinking island.” Johanna says, adjusting the axe in her hand.

The others grab their respected weapons, and you watch as Peeta, Johanna and Finnick head off to three different spokes. Neither you, Katniss or Beetee move from where you stand.

“Twelve o’clock, right?” Peeta says. “The tail points at twelve.”

“Before they spun us.” Finnick says. “I was judging by the sun.”

“The sun only tells you it’s going on four, Finnick.” Katniss informs him.

“I think Katniss’s point is, knowing the time doesn’t mean you necessarily know where four is on the clock. You might have a general idea of the direction. Unless you consider that they may have shifted the outer ring of jungle as well.” Beetee pitches in.

Katniss pauses for a moment, “Yes, so any one of these paths could lead to twelve o’clock.”

They circle the Cornucopia, inspecting the jungle, looking for a difference in each wedge, but they can’t find any. Katniss mentions something about how the lightning tree was huge and impossible to miss last night, yet now it seems like there’s a tree like that in every slice. Johanna thinks to follow Enobaria’s and Brutus’s footsteps, but they were blown away by the wind when the Cornucopia was spinning.

“I should have never mentioned the clock.” Katniss shakes her head. “Now they’ve taken that advantage away as well.”

“Only temporarily.” Beetee says. “At ten, we’ll see the wave again and be back on track.”

“Yes, they can’t redesign the whole arena.” Peeta rubs her shoulder.

“It doesn’t matter.” Johanna sighs impatiently. “You had to tell us or we never would have moved our camp in the first place, brainless.” She pops out a hip, crossing her arms. “Come on, I need water. Anyone have a good gut feeling?”

A path is chosen at random, with Johanna leading, and you and Finnick taking up the rear. You look back at the Cornucopia, eyeing it to make sure that what’s left of the Careers isn’t following your group. It’s clear.

“I bet you’re glad that I’m here.” You tell Finnick, who’s walking in front of you. “If it weren’t for me, you’d be injured by now.”

Finnick comes to a dead stop in front of you, turning around to glare. The others don’t notice, continuing down the sand strip. He waits to make sure there’s a distance between you two and them before he lowers his voice, eyebrows turned downward.

“No, (Y/n), I’m not happy you’re here.” He snaps. “Why would I be? I’ve been babysitting you the entire time to make sure you don’t run off and do anything stupid.”

“Who was awake when the fog came rolling in?” You shoot back, face twisted. “And who was the one that tackled you and Peeta to keep you from getting hurt by Enobaria and Brutus?”

“I don’t need you.” He suddenly says, squinting. “In the case that you wouldn’t have been here, Johanna would’ve had my back just the same. I don’t need another teenager to watch over, and that’s exactly what you are.”

“You don’t need to watch over me.” You tell Finnick, “I can take care of myself, and I’ve done just fine this entire time.”

“Wonder why.” He says, his tone sarcastic.

He turns around, going back to following your group.

“You’re going to eat your words, Finnick.” You tell him.

—

You watch as Beetee calls Finnick over to assist him with the lightning tree, continuing with the rebel plan. He crouches down next to the coil of wire, unrolling yards upon yards of it, putting it off to the side, but never detaching it from the rest. While he does this, he has Finnick secure the loose end tightly around a broken branch that he lays on the ground when he’s done.

They then stand on either side of the tree, passing the spool back and forth as they unravel the coil. They spend a good five minutes just aimlessly wrapping it around the trunk before Beetee begins to create a pattern out of where his wire hits. Like it has to be in a certain spot in order for it to work properly.

By the time the wave begins, they’re beginning to finish. Beetee waits for the rumbling of the water in the distance to stop, and then he reveals the rest of the plan that he’s been keeping to himself.

Since you, Katniss and Johanna move quickly through the jungle on your own, he wants the three of you to take the coil down to the center water, unwinding the wire as you go down. He’s very specific when he tells you to lay it across the beach at the twelve spoke, and to swim the coil out as deep as you can, making sure that it sinks when you let go.

After that, you have to run for the jungle.

“If you leave, right now, you should make it to safety.” Beetee finishes, adjusting the glasses on his face.

“I want to go with them as a guard.” Peeta says immediately.

“You’re too slow. Besides, I’ll need you on this end. Katniss will guard.” Beetee tells him. “There’s no time to debate this. I’m sorry. If the girls are to get out of there alive, they need to move now.” He hands the coil over to Johanna.

“Remember what happened during the fog?” You ask Peeta, raising your eyebrows.

A small frown comes over his lips, Katniss closes the distance between them. “It’s okay.” She murmurs. “We’ll just drop the coil and come straight back up.”

“Not into the lightning zone.” Beetee reminds her. “Head for the tree in the one-to-two o’clock sector. If you find you’re running out of time, move over one more. Don’t even think about going back on the beach, though, until I can assess the damage.”

Katniss gently cups Peeta’s cheeks with her hands. “Don’t worry. I’ll see you at midnight.” She kisses him, and then turns to face you and Johanna. “Ready?”

“Why not?” Johanna shrugs. “You two guard, I’ll unwind. We can trade off later.”

They begin to head down the slope, you hesitate, looking in Finnick’s direction, only to find that his back is turned to you, disinterested. He’s probably just happy that he doesn’t have to worry about you for the next hour. If you had to guess, he had a conversation with Johanna early this morning about keeping an eye on you. And you know she won’t hesitate to ‘put you in your place’ if she sees fit.

It’s an unfair advantage.

You follow behind Katniss and Johanna, knife in hand, keeping an eye on the trees around you. A lot of things need to happen tonight in order for you to reach the goal, which is being rescued out of here. Haymitch has been sending you signals, as he promised, through the forms of district bread. He’s confirmed the day and time several times already, so there’s not a question in your mind when it’s happening.

Tonight, at midnight.

Haymitch has specific instructions to keep Katniss and Peeta unaware of what’s going on, because Katniss has a tendency to overthink and fuck up. And Peeta performs best when he doesn’t know that people are moving around him. In the start, it was yours and Finnick’s job to ensure that they made it out of the bloodbath alive.

Beetee and Wiress were necessary in the long run for the plan to leave the arena. It’s a shame that Wiress didn’t make it, but in the state she was in, she wouldn’t have been much help anymore. Besides managing to confirm what you said about the arena possibly being a clock.

As for Johanna and Blight, they were tasked with finding your group and joining it. They happened to come across the Three tributes in the bloodbath, rescued them, and got stuck with them. Of course, you all came together eventually, but you think if Johanna had joined any sooner, that the alliance would’ve fallen apart.

After all, Johanna had slapped Katniss not even five minutes into their conversation, yesterday.

Anyway, you think Beetee’s trying to cause a blackout with the lightning tree. It’s no secret that the arenas are domes and it’s all a facade. Supposedly, the lightning from the sky will hit the tree, which is connected to the wire that brings it to the water. It’ll fry everything in the center, but at the same time, it should destroy the dome.

All cameras will shut off, the rebel hovercraft will come in, take all of you in, and then take you to… wherever it was that Haymitch and Plutarch had in mind.

In the meantime, while this is happening, the trackers in your arms need to be taken out. More importantly, Katniss and Peeta’s trackers. They will be the first people the Capitol will try and capture, with the rest of you following behind in varying degrees of importance, based on your role.

In theory, this is straightforward and easy. In action, if even one unpredicted event happens, it could screw the entire plan.

“Better hurry.” Johanna says. “I want to put a lot of distance between me and that water before the lightning hits. Just in case Volts miscalculated something.”

“I’ll take the coil for a while.” Katniss says, glancing over her shoulder. “You can take it next, (Y/n).”

“Sounds good to me.” You nod.

“Here.” Johanna says, passing the coil over to Katniss.

Neither of them have let go from the coil, when you watch as the wire vibrates. And then suddenly, it springs back at you. You’re barely able to jerk out of the way before the end comes snaking up to your feet, the wire wrapped in tangled loops and curls around their wrists.

There’s a moment of silence between the three of you, which is when your heart starts to pound in your chest. Someone farther up has just cut the wire on purpose, and it’ll be a matter of minutes before they’re here.

Johanna’s eyes dart to yours, and she mouths, “Now.”

For a moment, you’re not exactly sure what you’re supposed to do, until Katniss lets go of the wire, leaving only Johanna to hold it. Just as Katniss begins to load her bow to protect herself, Johanna swings the coil back and slams it into the side of Katniss’s head.

Oh.

Johanna drags a half-conscious Katniss down the slope and underneath a ledge of dirt, where the grass and ferns hide her well in the dark. She sits on Katniss’s chest, knees pressed to her shoulders. There’s not even a moment of hesitation when she slices through Katniss’s forearm, right where they insert the tracker.

The sound of greenery rustling is what breaks you away, eyes narrowing on some dark figures coming down the jungle. You get into a crouch, carefully backing down to be next to Johanna, who’s crushing the tracker against a root. When she’s done, she wipes her bloody hands on Katniss’s face.

“Stay down!” Johanna hisses, getting off of her.

“They’re coming.” You tell her, pointing at the tributes that are getting closer, it has to be the Careers. “Let’s run this way and try to lead them back up.”

“I’ll go first.” Johanna says, just before taking off.

She makes a lot of noise, you think you can even hear Enobaria and Brutus shouting after you two. You try to keep close, but some of her movements are unpredictable, trying to lose your opponents in the darkness of the trees. However, they must have planned for a chase, because you watch Enobaria split off, heading back to the lightning tree.

“She’s going back to the tree!” You shout to Johanna.

“Split off!” She yells back at you. “I got him!”

At the next opportunity, you round a tree and begin to haul ass back to where the other half of the group should be. It sounds like Brutus continues to follow Johanna, so you don’t bother with waiting to make sure she’s okay. She’s got her axe, and she’s one of the fiercest tributes there are.

You’re nearing the tree when the sound of clicking begins—the insects from the eleven sector have come to life. You have less than an hour to gather everyone and get out of the arena alive.

You can see the back of Enobaria’s ponytail swishing, as she breaks through the treeline and goes hurdling to the only person in the clearing. It’s Beetee, the figure is too short to be Finnick.

“Hey!” You shout, trying to defer her attention, but she’s already swung her sword at Beetee, and she’s got him good.

He falls to the dirt, groaning, gripping a spot on his side. When Enobaria turns to face you, the blood at the tip of her weapon shines in the moonlight. She bares her pointy teeth in a sick smile.

“You want a taste?” She asks, coming toward you.

“Bring it.” You tell her.

You let her swing at you, and you deflect her with the blade of your knife, which holds up well under the momentum. You shove back at her, causing her to stumble, giving you enough time to lead her away from Beetee, and back out into the trees.

You don’t go far when a blast of electric air comes through the jungle in a wave. The hairs on the back of your neck stand, goosebumps covering your arms. The last time this happened, Peeta drove himself into the force field, and it almost killed him.

Did Beetee…?

A cannon blasts.

You stop and lunge back at Enobaria, knife aimed for her throat, but she blocks you off, throwing you to the ground. You tumble, and get back to your feet in time to jerk away from her blade, which slams into the dirt.

“Katniss! (Y/n)!” Finnick shouts. “Johanna!”

“Finnick!” You call back, Enobaria glowers.

“(Y/n)!”

“Quick!” You shout back at him, jumping to tackle Enobaria.

She doesn’t move in time, allowing your shoulder to slam into her stomach. You hit the dirt, almost flying over the top of her, but you manage to catch yourself on a root, grounding you. With the knife in your hand, you go to bring it down to stab her anywhere.

She almost grabs your wrist, but her hands are too slippery, either from blood or from sweat. The knife slams into her side, and you manage to pull it out and stab her again before there’s more shouting, making you look up.

“Katniss!” A different voice calls, it’s farther away. “Katniss!”

“Peeta!” It has to be Katniss responding, judging by the way she’s screaming. How did she get so close to the tree? “Peeta! I’m here! Peeta!” She shouts. “I’m here! I’m here! Peeta!”

You watch as Finnick comes barreling through the trees, right past where you are with Enobaria. She’s still struggling beneath you, fingers reaching for her sword. You bring back the end of your knife, slamming the butt of it against her forehead with as much force as you can muster, knocking her out, and hopefully giving her a concussion.

You trip over her body, falling into the leaves. Finnick stops several feet ahead, turning back to see who it is.

“Go!” You motion for him to keep running. “Get Katniss, I’m fine!”

He hesitates, but ultimately ends up listening to you, going for the lightning tree. You manage to follow loosely, taking your time, assuming that it's another ten minutes before the lightning is to begin.

Just as you cross the treeline again, the hair on your arms fly up, stick straight, warning you of what's to come. You can see Katniss’s arrow is aimed in Finnick’s direction, but he’s cluelessly walking into it.

You open your mouth to shout a warning, but the words die in your throat. Suddenly, she changes her mind, turning robotically to the force field behind her, pulling an arrow back. It isn’t until she releases it, do you see the shimmering gold wire attached to the arrow.

The lightning strikes the tree, a flash of white flies up the wire and straight back into the dome, causing it to burst into a blue light. The shock wave just a few minutes ago has nothing on this one.

You’re thrown through the air, crash to the ground, breath sucked from your lungs. As you try to get a hold of your breathing, you go to reach for your knife, just a few inches away, but you’re stuck. You can’t move.

All you can do is watch as the dome shuts off, blacking out the arena for just a few seconds, and then it explodes. In the blink of an eye, the forest lights on fire, the heat of the flame licking at your sensitive skin.

Just as the sky begins to fall, a hovercraft materializes, a claw dropped. It has to be the rebels, coming to save you. You watch as one tribute is saved, it vaguely looks like Beetee. A second one is scooped up, bronze hair shining in the blaze, that has to be Finnick. On the third time, you think it’s Katniss, she’s the only girl that was in the area.

You watch as the claw disappears inside of the hovercraft, and you wait for it to be sent back down again, but the longer the seconds drag on, the more you begin to worry. They’re going to come back down again, right? They’re going to get everyone out of the arena, that’s the plan—

Until the hovercraft blends back into the sky and disappears, leaving you behind.

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damiansgoodgirll · 5 months ago

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IM SAT FOR DONT BREAK MY HEART PART 5 🖤💖

part one, part two, part three, part four

damian priest x reader (platonic), rhea ripley x reader (platonic), the judgment day x reader (platonic), drew mcintyre x reader

‼️angst, crying, nightmares, flashbacks, panic attack, rhea gets violent, family issues, domestic violence, verbal violence, fear of abandonment, fear of loneliness, reader being self conscious, a little longer than usual, SORRY IT’S ANGST DON’T READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE‼️

likes, comments and reblogs are always welcomed!

don’t break my heart - part 5

“stop that nonsense y/n” your mom laughed in the background while you were talking about your future with your father “you’re gonna be a doctor or a lawyer, maybe a teacher too, you’re gonna have a good education and find a job, you’re gonna find a good husband and you’re gonna give him the future he deserves for providing for you”

“what about the future i deserve? what about my plans? my dreams?” you screamed for the millionth time that day.

“the world isn’t made of dreams y/n. the world is made of fact and it pains me that you can’t get that into your silly brain” she laughed off “being a wrestler means not having a stable place to say, means travelling around the world and being always broke and your father and i can’t support you till you’re dead” she said, sitting in front of you at the kitchen table where you and your father were talking before.

“i don’t want you to support me forever! i’m not asking you to do that! i’m just asking you to be supportive of my dreams and-…”

“i said stop that fucking nonsense! you’re not going to be a wrestler! i don’t know who put that idea into your head but it’s never going to happen!” she screamed, slamming her hands on the table, making you flinch.

“dad please…” you didn’t want to sound weak, but your father took your side most of the times. except, not this one.

“your mom is right y/n, you need to open your eyes about the world we live in. it’s not made of rainbows and dreams. the faster you learn this, the sooner you’ll apply for college and get a degree and then a job, the happier everyone will be” he tried to be more gentle with you but still, he was siding with your mom and you couldn’t accept that.

“so what do you want me to do? settle for a life that i don’t want?” you asked, tears in your eyes.

“you wanna be a wrestler? then start training because those chocolate bars you hide in your room aren’t doing you any favour” she laughed making you look up at yourself in the mirror in front of the table “oh don’t be so focused on that y/n, you look good but you will look even more fabulous once you’ve got your first belt” she laughed, poking at you, making fun of you.

“mom!” you almost screamed “why are you being so mean?”

“i’m not being mean y/n. i’m just telling you the truth! imagine going out to the country club and telling our friends that our daughter is a wrestler” she joked with your dad, making him laugh “it’s gonna be so embarrassing”

“so this is what is about?” you couldn’t believe your ears “you’re embarrassed! you think i’m gonna make you look good because if i become a wrestler you couldn’t brag about how your daughter it’s better than your friends daughters! because everyone of them have their destiny written and they can’t say no! it’s because you couldn’t handle me choosing what makes me feel good because you didn’t have a choice!” you raised your voice, making both of your parents angry “you didn’t have a choice mom! but that doesn’t mean i can’t have mine!”

“y/n don’t fucking raise your voice at your mother!” your father screamed. you didn’t like when he screamed. he always turned to be violent at some point.

“i made my choice! i wanted to stay at home and being a housewife because that was what was better for this family! for us!” she spat back.

“no, you chose to be a housewife because you got knocked up” but before you could even say anything else, a loud slap echoed through the room. your father’s hand still too close on your face while your mother stood back.

“that’s enough! i told you millions of times that you don’t have to scream at me, or at your mother. now, you either apologise to us or you’re gonna be in big troubles” your father said but you were tired of being controlled by your parents. you were tired of being their toy. so you simply left and hid into your bedroom.

both of your parents follow you up on the stairs, trying to open your door “get this door open or i’m gonna break it y/n!” your dad screamed.

“i’m tired!” you screamed from the other side of the room “i’m so tired of you not listening to me! i’m so tired of you choosing for me! it’s my life and i wanna make my choices, i wanna make my mistakes and learn from them! you are my parents and you should be supporting me not pushing me down! this is my life and i wanna live it the way i want it! being a wrestler is all i want and you can’t keep this from me!” you were crying at this point, your voice cracking everytime you spoke.

your dad broke the door down, entering your room with your mom and start searching for something. when he found a backpack, he gave it to you “fill this with some clothes”

“what?” you asked in disbelief.

“don’t make me repeat things twice. fill this with your clothes, brushes, books, anything you might need, and do it quickly!” he screamed again making you jump “you wanna be a wrestler and yet you’re scared of people arguing” he laughed.

you did as he told you, not even caring what you were packing. once he was satisfied enough with how full your backpack was, he dragged you down the stairs and into the living room, your mom following behind “you wanna be a wrestler?” he asked, waiting for your response.

“more than anything in this world…”

he dragged you to the front door, opening and letting some of the rain wash the entry carpet “then go! go live your dream and don’t come back” he was pushing you out and you were trying your best to resist him but he was bigger and stronger so it took you no time to push you out and leave you in the pouring rain “you wanna be a wrestler? go! but don’t expect us to welcome you back once you miserably fail…”

“what? mom…mom, you can’t kick me out! this is my home…i…what am i supposed to…where am i supposed to go? mom please” you were crying, begging but they wouldn’t have mercy on you.

“i’m sorry y/n but you made your choice, we are letting you go as you wanted…” she wasn’t even upset about the whole situation.

“mom…dad, you can’t kick me out, please…it’s dark and cold and…and it’s raining and i don’t know where to go…”

“no wrestler, no failure will live under this roof” your father said, before closing the door right in front of your face.

you were left there, under the rain, with only a small backpack and big dreams in your hands.

your screams could be heard in the every room of the hotel but you couldn’t help them, not when you were dreaming, not when your dreams turned into flashback of the past, making you live a real nightmare all over again.

damian’s room was opposite to yours and rhea’s was just as next so it took them one second to run out of their rooms when they heard you screaming.

rhea opened your hotel room with a kick while damian turned on the lights. it was clear to them that you were still asleep and they didn’t want to scare you awake.

“what do we do?” rhea whispered to damian, who was clearly as worried as the woman.

“i don’t know…we should wake her up, gently…” he said. his heart broke when he saw your eyes closed as much as you could, like you were crying.

damian slowly walked towards your bed, his hand resting on your shoulder, gently moving it as he was whispering your name to wake you up “y/n…please hermosa, wake up” he whispered sitting next to you.

rhea sat on the edge of the bed. in case she needed to held you back. you had nightmares in your past and it wasn’t new to them but you never had nightmares this strong.

“y/n…” damian whispered again.

you felt him touching your shoulder, in your mind he was someone who wanted to hurt you so you woke up with a loud scream, trying to shove damian’s hand away.

“hey hey…it’s me y/n, it’s damian…” he talked softly, his voice low.

“please…please don’t hurt me, i promise i’ll be good, i’ll go to college but please don’t hit me again…” your held up your hands, shielding your face. you were visibly crying, still confused as you didn’t recognise that you were in a hotel room and not your house, that you were with damian and rhea and not your parents.

“hey mariposa…no one is going to hurt you…” damian soft voice spoke to you, bringing you back to reality. you slowly slowed your hands down, opening your eyes and meeting damian and rhea.

they both had a scared look on their faces. they didn’t know what to do.

“it’s me…it’s damian…” he wanted to wipe some of your tears away but when his hand tried to touch you, you flinched away, making him stop his movements.

“hey love…” rhea spoke to you, tears in her eyes “no one is going to hurt you, i promise you, no one’s here…”

“it felt real…” your broken voice spoke “like it was happening again…”

“can i touch you?” damian gently asked you and you nodded. he slowly opened his arms to let you rest on his chest, helping you calm down “deep breaths…deep breaths y/n…”

you tried to calm down as he instructed you to do, and after a few minutes your breathing became natural. tears were flowing down your face, you couldn’t stop them.

“i’m sorry if i woke you up” you apologised, feeling guilty.

“it’s okay love…” rhea softly smiled at you. they both were genuinely concerned.

“what happened y/n?” damian asked gently , not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

“i’ve had this flashback…of when, you know, they kicked me out…and this time it felt so real, like they were here again…like everything it was happening all over again just because she reminded me…” you still cried in damian’s arms.

“who reminded you? who’s she?” rhea asked, looking up at damian.

“liv…i saw her last night, in the reception hall and she said how much of a burden i’ve always been to the judgment day…she said that finn told her everything about my past, about me still being in therapy, about how finn was tired of me complaining and crying…she said awful things that made my flashbacks click in i guess…why would finn told her everything about my past? was i really a burden to him? to you?” you asked, looking up at damian with sad eyes.

“no, no, absolutely no. i told you y/n that you would never be a burden for us…i care about you so much and everything you went through is awful…but i promise you that we will always be here for you…” he delicately wiped your tears away and kissed your forehead.

rhea was fuming.

she couldn’t believe that finn would say something so delicate and private to liv. finn knew everything you went through and he was always there to support you and help you. finn was the one who insisted on you going to therapy and he was the one who would accompany you to the sessions every week. he would wait in the car for hours, but he would wait just to make sure you were okay. he never once left you going alone.

so rhea couldn’t understand why finn used everything about your past against you when he was the first person to come to the rescue when you were in a bad place with your mind.

“rhea?” damian called her when he saw her looking at the door.

“liv is dead. and finn’s too…” she said before moving out your room.

she started looking for the pair’s room. looking for liv first, she started banging on her door, not caring if it was three in the morning.

finn, who was on the next room, woke up when he heard the noise coming from outside “what is going on? what is this noise?”

rhea turned to face him, walking toward him.

“rhea what’s going on?” he asked but before he could continue, she punched him right in the face.

“you’re a fucking bastard!” she screamed, punching him again.

liv came out of the room, trying to separate rhea from liv.

“get your fucking hands off of me! you’re not better that him” she pushed liv away.

“rhea what’s going on?” finn asked, a little concerned from the whole situation.

“why would you tell her? y/n didn’t deserve that…finn, she cared about you, she cares about you, she admires you…why would you do that to her?” rhea kept screaming.

“rhea what?” finn then remembered telling liv about y/n’s past. he didn’t want to, he never meant to tell her but he was upset when you joined damian and rhea instead of joining him. so, that night, he told everything to liv, full of rage and anger, he never imagined liv would use this against you “rhea what happened?” he asked, a worried look on his face.

“she’s not feeling good, thanks to you…” rhea looked at both liv and finn “liv, you’re mad at me, you’re mad at the world, i get it, but don’t use someone’s past against them…you have no idea what she’s going through…” rhea said tired “you’re a woman, be more than this…”

in the meantime, you were sure your screamed woke everyone in the hotel. but rhea was making it worse, you could hear her from your room.

“damian…should we do something?” you asked, your head still resting on his shoulder..

“no, rhea will take care of this…i’ll stay here with you, close your eyes mariposa…you should rest a little” he whispered softly.

you nodded, too tired of answering. you were exhausted and waking up in the middle of the night after a big evening of working took a toll on you.

damian felt for you.

you didn’t deserve all of this. he knew that finn was mad with rhea and him so he couldn’t understand why would finn put you into this.

“is y/n okay?” finn asked to rhea, visibly worried.

“no she’s not, thanks to you…” she couldn’t even watch him in the eyes.

“rhea i - let me talk to her…” finn almost begged while liv watched from the side, realising that she might have overstepped and gone too far.

“absolutely not! you are no longer welcomed around her, not after you just put her through…she woke up crying, begging for us to stop hurt her…i don’t know what you told liv, but y/n is hurting right now and it’s all on you!” rhea said before leaving.

finn stood there, too stunned to speak.

dom heard everything from the other side of the door. he knew that if he got out he would cause more damage cause he also said some things about you to liv. and right now, he was feeling like shit.

finn was battling with himself. hating himself for hurting you.

“let’s go inside finn…” liv whispered but he shoved her away, wanting to escape from that moment.

rhea came back to damian and softly smiled when she saw you sleeping against his chest “should we stay here?” rhea asked, watching your figure as it was peacefully sleeping.

“i don’t think i can move rhea, she fell asleep on me” damian chuckled “you can go back to sleep rhea, i’ll stay here in case something happens” rhea nodded and left the room. she knew you were in good hands.

“what are you doing here?” you shockingly asked when you opened the door of your new florida home.

“it’s nice to see you too” your mom joked “won’t you let us in?”

“no…no i won’t, now get lost” you said trying to close the door but your father stopped you.

“that’s not nice y/n…we taught you better than this” he said and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“really? you fucking abandoned me!”

“we know” your mother said “and we came here to apologise”

“no, i don’t believe you” you scoffed “ there has to be another reason if you came here today. is it because of money? you need money? what do you need from me?”

“we…” your mother couldn’t lie “we have been watching you since you joined wwe” she said smiling, suddenly feeling like a proud mother “and we are so proud of what you accomplished”

“what do you want from me?” you asked again, getting irritated.

“listen we had some problems and we had to sell my car…” your mom said, quite ashamed of that “and we told everyone that we were actually fixing it but money are quite low and…”

“and? and you expect me to give you money because of? it’s gonna make you look bad at the country club or are you that broke that you are not even allowed at the club anymore?” you asked, already knowing the answer the moment neither of your parents answered you “like i thought…” you chuckled “listen to me you either go away or i’ll call the cops”

“are you threatening us, young girl?” your father asked looking angry as always, but this time you were a little less scared.

“no, this is a warning. i don’t wanna see you ever again or next time i’m filing for a restraining order…” you said closing the door right in front of their face just like they did with you.

you woke up again that night, the thoughts of your parents never leaving you.

damian sensed that you were awake but it was only 6 am, he knew you could sleep a couple of more hours so immediately he went on alert.

he looked down at you trying to see if you were crying, but he saw you were looking at the ceiling probably thinking of something or someone “hey…you okay?” he asked softly.

“uhm…yes…” you didn’t know what to answer.

“talk to me…” he whispered.

“they are still here somehow, i still feel their presence and i hate it…i hate them, and…and everything they put me through…but i feel them everywhere i go, everywhere i look, i can hear my mom saying how disappointed she is or my dad saying that if i don’t do well or if i fail i’m gonna be in big trouble…and i can’t do this anymore, i felt like i was doing good with therapy…i felt like i was starting to live again and then…then this shit with the team happens and i feel like i’m getting kicked out all over again…losing finn and dom hurts, i cared so much about them…” you didn’t want to cry again but you couldn’t stop a few tears that fell from your eyes.

“hey…just wanted to remind you that it’s okay to feel sadness, it's a natural part of life but please remember, you are not alone in this, i’m here for you, rhea too…you’re not alone in this journey, you are stronger than you think, and better days are just around the corner…i know this will pass, healing takes time, and i will always admire you for reaching out for help…and you are so brave and strong, i promise you we are with you all the way through this…we are so proud of you ” he told you, making you reach for that comfort you lost many years ago. it was the comforting voice of an adult, of someone who cared for you. it was the comforting words, the words that you begged your parents to say but never said.

and that comfort you found it again in damian’s embrace.

“go back to sleep y/n…you can sleep a couple of more hours and i promise you that i’ll be here once you wake up” he smiled, making a promise he wasn’t going to break.

the voices about a fight between the members of the judgment day flew quickly through the hotel walls. everyone woke up with the news of rhea attacking finn and liv but no one knew why. somehow they knew you were involved but they didn’t know why.

drew got worried when he didn’t see you in the gym. it was like an habituè, every hotel you were in, you were always hitting gym in the morning so he couldn’t understand why you weren’t there.

“shayna” he called when he saw the dark haired woman entering the gym “do you know where is y/n? or damian? or anyone from the judgment day ?”

“oh…you didn’t know?” she asked.

“know what?” he asked, a little worried.

“there was a fight between rhea and finn tonight, i think about y/n not feeling good or something, i really don’t know but punk said there was a lot of noise, especially from rhea screaming” she informed drew before starting her training.

drew was left there, speechless.

you were hurt?

he flew out of the gym and went towards your bedroom.

damian and rhea were both there, you were already awake but too tired to do anything. crying took a big toll on you. your eyes were heavy and red, your head was pounding heavily and you were tired.

you all heard a knock on your door and damian went in protective mode, fearing it would be finn as rhea went to open the door. she was met with a worry drew.

“drew” she whispered.

“is she okay? i’ve heard she wasn’t feeling good…” he asked, looking at the man who was shielding you.

“she is…but it’s not the right moment” rhea wasn’t stupid. she knew there was something between you two and even if she didn’t like it a little bit, she couldn’t help but be grateful that someone like drew was worrying about you.

“rhea who’s at the door?” you stood up, walking alongside with damian “oh…hi drew” you tiredly smiled at him.

“hey…” he smiled, observing your face. you were tired and it was clear to anyone that you had a rough night “can i please talk to you?” he asked and you nodded, smiling at him.

“guys…it’s fine i promise, i’ll let you know if it isn’t” you said, trying to let them go.

rhea nodded and damian smiled at you “we are one door away” you thanked them as they left.

you sat on your bed and drew followed you, his eyes never leaving your face. he was trying to see if there was something, anything that could tell him what was going on but he couldn’t find any sign.

“is everything okay? how’s your back?” you asked him. his heart melted, loving how caring you were even when it was clear that you were the one in pain.

“i’m okay…my back is okay, thank you” he smiled at you “what about you? you don’t look fine y/n” he said but you couldn’t find any words to explain what was going on.

after what happened with finn you didn’t know if you could trust him with something so delicate as your past. you knew he wasn’t finn but you’ve always valued the irish man like family, like someone who you could count on but after last night you didn’t know who to trust.

“talk to me…please” his eyes almost begging. he saw the redness around them, he knew you cried but he didn’t know why.

“it’s a long story and i’m sure you have more interesting things to do…” you smiled at him.

“i have all the time in the world for you, i wanna make sure you are okay, and clearly you’re hurting right now…” his clear eyes never leaving yours.

so you told him everything.

you told him about your family. how your dad was abusive and violent. how your mom used to make fun of you. how they never supported you. how they kicked you out when you were only a teen. how they threatened you and came back once you got famous. how you had to file a restraining order against them because they wouldn’t leave you alone. how, thanks to them, you’ve been doing therapy sessions for years. how you thought you found a new family in the judgment day. how broken you were when the team split up because to you was like living all that happened with your family all over again. how you trusted finn with your secrets and how he went and told everything to liv. how liv used it against you last night causing you the worst breakdown you’ve had in a long time.

drew was speechless. he couldn’t understand how your own family could turn their backs on you. you were their daughter and they were supposed to protect you. so he couldn’t really understand how some parents were capable of damaging their kid so much.

“and that’s it” you said, avoiding his eyes “pretty fucked up, isn’t it?” you tried to laugh but it was more of a sarcastic laugh.

“i’m so fucking sorry you had to go through all of this…there are no words to express how sorry i am, i can’t imagine what you had to deal with and i can’t imagine how painful it must have been and i swear finn is a dead man” drew said making you laugh, a genuine laugh.

“i think rhea took care of him already” you smiled.

“yeah, i heard” he laughed “but i want you to know that i’ll be here for you, what i said last night, i meant it…y/n i like you, i like all of you” he slowly reached your cheek with his hand, making sure he wasn’t overstepping “i like you when you go out in the ring and kick asses, i like you when you are just you, the normal you, i like you when you’re sad or happy, i like when you shy away from a compliment…i like you and i wanna be here for you, if you’ll let me”

and again, you weren’t good with words so you replicated the actions from last night. you moved closer to his body, your hands both around his neck while you moved closer to him. your lips meeting his in a delicate and gentle kiss, almost like saying “thank you”.

he smiled into the kiss, his hand resting on your cheek “thank you for trusting me with this y/n” he whispered before meeting your lips again.

there was an awkward silence for a few seconds. where you just tried to avoid drew’s eyes while his eyes couldn’t leave your face. he understood that you were a delicate person, who’s been through hell and more. and he promised to himself to never hurt you like your family did in the past. he wanted to see you smile every day, he wanted to be the reason for you to be happy, he wanted to be there for you so he made a promise to himself, he wouldn’t let anyone hurt you again.

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

PART 6

part 6 will be out after monday night raw cause i need ideas, let me know in the comments if you have any idea you would like me to add!

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mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 1 month ago

Text

I Gave You My Heart❤️💔

One Shot (Complete) ||| Main Masterlist Dieter Bravo x f!Reader x Lucien de Leon

🎄Summary: You and Dieter attend his parents annual Christmas party where you unexpectedly run into your ex, Lucien de Leon. As events (and drama) unfold, you're soon wondering if you are making the right choice about your future.

🎁Word Count: 9.1 K

🚨Warnings: Angst, smut shenanigans, alcohol consumption, brief mentions of past drug abuse, shitty relationships, family drama, mentions of unplanned pregnancy. Dieter & Lucien come with their own warnings.

Shout out to my love, @morallyinept, for her wonderful character dialog database. It was nice to have that as a reference for this fic. 💜

I glanced at my watch. We were supposed to be leaving in twenty minutes, but Dieter hadn’t made it home yet due to being stuck in LA traffic. From the string of expletives included in his text messages with his ETA updates, I could tell he was beyond frustrated that filming had gone over schedule.

He burst through the door of our Sherman Oaks home in a flurry, kicking his shoes off and undressing as he made his way upstairs toward the bathroom to shower. He was still covered in grime and fake blood from whatever gruesome scene he had been filming that morning.

I followed behind him, picking up his clothes and biting back laughter as I watched his bare ass quickly disappear down the hallway into our bedroom. It wasn’t an unusual sight, but he typically didn’t move at a speed that would cause his ass cheeks to bounce the way they were. He was already in the shower when I entered, vigorously rubbing at his face and hair under the spray as he cursed about the water not warming up fast enough and making jokes that his dick was now shriveled up to the size of an almond because it was so cold.

I shook my head and laughed as I threw his clothes into the hamper, “Dee, would you relax? I told your mom we might be a few minutes late. She was cool with it.”

He huffed loudly, “I know, I’m sorry. I’m just a little nervous. I haven’t been to one of her Christmas parties in years. There’s gonna be a lot of family there that I’ve been avoiding.”

As I did some last-minute hair and makeup touch ups, Dieter stepped out of the shower. I glanced over at him, doing a double take as I noticed there was still a tinge of red in his hair near his temple. I pointed toward it, “You still have fake blood in your hair.”

He huffed out a quiet “fuck” as he threw his towel at me and stepped back into the shower, dumping more shampoo into his hand to scrub at the spot while he muttered expletives under his breath.

By the time he stepped out again, I was pulling on my dress for the party. It was solid black and very fitted with a boat neckline and exceptionally low back. I could feel his eyes on me as I adjusted the straps to sit properly. His hands gripped my hips from behind and squeezed at the meaty flesh, “Well, the almond dick issue is solved. You look so fucking sexy in this. Think we have time for a quickie?”

I scoffed jokingly, “No. We don’t, actually. Save it for later, lover boy.”

He whined, “OK. Fine. I wanna fuck you in my old bedroom anyway. That bed has never seen any action. It’s time.”

I rolled my eyes at him, “You’re so ridiculous.”

He gave me a quick peck on the cheek then grinned, “I know, but that’s why you love me.”

He wasn’t wrong, I loved his playful and carefree side. He made me smile more than anyone else ever had. We acted like a couple of big kids most days, always having fun and not taking each other for granted. We had both finally reached a point where we were happy, healthy, and ready for life-long companionship.

We had come into each other's lives at just the right time - him having hit his one-year sober anniversary and me finishing out therapy to deal with all of my childhood trauma. We met in the self-help section of a Barnes and Noble of all places. Both of us were looking for the same book with only one copy being found by him. After several minutes of looking for another one and coming up short, he offered to let me have it, but only if I gave him my phone number. I was hesitant at first, but it ended up being the best decision I had ever made. A year later we were still going strong and planning our future together.

I could feel my nerves bubbling up as we got into the car. I hadn’t officially met his family, but I had talked to his mom several times when she would call. That didn’t make me feel any better though.

I dug around in my purse, pulling out my phone to see if my best friend, Delia, had texted me back yet and found a notification from her.

Delia: Sorry, I’m just not feeling up to coming tonight. You two have fun. I’m sure they will all love you.

I sighed and shoved it back in my purse. Dieter glanced at me from the driver seat, grabbing my hand to lace his fingers with mine once it was free.

“Something wrong?” he asked with furrowed brows.

I shrugged, “I…don’t know, honestly. Delia’s been kind of weird lately. I feel like she’s avoiding me. I was really hoping she would come tonight. Having someone else there that I know would have been nice.”

His hand tightened in mine, “She’s probably just busy…she does have that new job.”

I sighed again, “Yeah…true. Maybe you’re right.”

He pulled my hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on my fingers, “Just relax, love. You’re letting the nerves get to you. I can tell. My mom is gonna love you…she already does.”

I laughed nervously, “She hasn’t even met me…”

He smiled, “Doesn’t matter. She knows you make me happy and keep me outta trouble. That’s all she’s worried about.”

We were quiet the rest of the way, but that didn’t stop Dieter from giving me reassuring hand squeezes and kisses. With him now focused on me, it seemed like his nerves had dissipated some, which was a good thing, at least.

As we parked outside his sprawling childhood home in the Hollywood Hills, I couldn’t ignore the bad feeling taking root in my gut and I didn’t know why. I finally shook it off as he reached into the backseat to fetch the Christmas bouquet he had purchased for his mom. From the looks of it, we were some of the first guests to arrive as Dieter had planned. He wanted to spend some time with his parents before things got too hectic. I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad idea.

We were greeted with smiling faces and hugs. Mr. and Mrs. Bravo were nothing but kind to me and mostly gushing about how well Dieter was doing and happy he was finally getting his life together. Dieter sat next to me with a shy smile and flushed cheeks as his mom doted on him. He would never admit it, but I knew it meant a lot to him that his parents finally saw him as something other than a failure.

As guests began to filter in, Dieter took the opportunity to take advantage of his parents' distraction, citing that he was going to show me around. The minute he checked over his shoulder with a smirk as he pulled me upstairs by one hand, I knew what he was up to.

We were both giggling like a couple of teenagers as he gave one last glimpse over his shoulder before pulling me into a room at the end of the hallway and locking the door behind us. It was like a time capsule. His parents had obviously not touched it since he moved out. The wall space was covered with 80’s movie and band posters. There was floor to ceiling shelves on one side of the room filled with books and old VHS tapes. It was very Dieter.

I could feel his eyes on me as I inspected the room. I suddenly turned to meet his gaze with a mischievous smile, “So, where do you keep the dirty magazines and porn videos?”

He snorted out a laugh, “Well…that all went with me when I moved out…buuut, I used to keep them buried at the back of the closet…in one of the many boxes labeled as comics.”

I chuckled, “That sounds about like what I expected.”

He suddenly pulled me into his arms and smiled against my lips, “We probably need to be fast, so mom doesn't get suspicious.”

His lips trailed down my neck as he backed me up against the dresser. I laughed before responding with a conspiratorial tone, “We can’t have that now, can we? She might ground you from your video games.”

He groaned against my shoulder before spinning me to face the dresser, meeting my gaze in the mirror as his fingertips ghosted down the exposed skin of my back. I could already feel the arousal drenching my underwear as his thirsty eyes drank me up. His hands moved to the straps of my dress, slipping them over my shoulders, allowing the dress to slide down my body and pool on the floor at my feet.

He licked his bottom lip as one hand reached around to gently knead at my breast, then pinched the nipple between his fingers. I moaned quietly at the sensation, leaning back against him as I grasped his hand and raised it to my mouth, sucking on his middle and index finger before placing them at my center. He wasted no time pulling my underwear aside to rub at the small bundle of nerves, eliciting a much louder moan from me. He chuckled against my ear, “Imma need you to be quiet, love. These walls are thin. Never know when somebody might walk by.”

His fingers dipped lower, first one, then two disappearing inside of me to expertly massage at that blissful spot that he knew so well. I gripped his arm with one hand, while the other tangled in his messy curls.

He hummed against my ear in that deep baritone voice of his, “So wet already, you’re always ready for me, aren’t ya honey?”

I nodded; my head dropped back against his shoulder as my eyes pinched shut.

“Oh no, love. Keep your eyes on me.”

My eyes met his reflection, he tucked his bottom lip between his teeth as he fought a smirk. He always looked so fucking sexy when he did that. I could feel his bulge pressing against my ass as he continued to work me over, grinding into me as his hot breath came faster against my ear. He had me coming undone in his arms within minutes, never taking his eyes off mine as he worked me through my release.

He held me around the middle for support, lips grazing and nibbling at my neck until I regained my senses. I chuckled, turning my head toward him to capture his lips in a heated kiss. He pulled away slightly, just far enough that he could suck his fingers into his own mouth to taste me. All while never breaking our eye contact. I needed him immediately.

I turned in his arms, nimble fingers moving to the buttons on the front of his black dress shirt to unfasten them. He smiled down at me as I worked to remove his clothes, allowing me to take charge now. Once he was undressed, I pushed him back toward the tiny twin bed.

“Lay down so I can fuck you like you want me to, lover boy.”

His brown eyes rounded as he took in my words, turning giddy and scrambling onto the bed - his cock erect and bouncing as he went. I had to bite back a laugh at his excitement. His enthusiasm for sex never seemed to wane.

After he got situated, he patted at the tops of his thighs with a lopsided grin that caused his cheeks to dimple. “Alright, mount up and ride me, baby.”

I couldn’t help chuckling as I peeled off my underwear then moved to straddle his hips. After notching him at my entrance, I quickly sank down all the way, causing his jaw to fall open from the feeling. His fingers dug into my hips, holding me in place.

“Fuck, baby. You’re about to revert me back to my sixteen-year-old self and make me come after six seconds by doing shit like that.”

I leaned down, giggling against his scruffy chin before placing a kiss on the bare heart shaped patch in his beard. He let out a steady controlled breath before loosening his grip and nodding for me to continue. I sat up, placing my hands on his chest for leverage and began to move. We were met with a high-pitched squeaking sound. I paused, rolling my lips together in an attempt to hold in my laughter.

Dieter huffed, “It’s not that loud…keep going.”

I nodded and began to move again. Every time I sank down onto him - squeak, squeak, squeak. It only seemed to get louder each time.

My right hand flew to my mouth to hold in the giggles. I couldn’t help it.

Dieter’s eyes slid closed in defeat as he huffed out, “I guess there’s a reason this bed hasn’t seen any fucking action.”

I finally lost it, leaning down to bury my face in his chest as I burst into laughter. My movement caused the bed to squeak again which set us both off. It continued the incessant noise as our bodies shook from the hysterics, which only served to make things worse.

Dieter finally collected himself enough to wrap his arms around me and move to a sitting position, then twisted to hang his legs off the side of the bed. All while it continued to squeak with every movement.

“Fuck this. I’m a big boy now. Watch me make this work.”

He stood, wrapping my legs around his waist as he did so while I tried to stifle my giggles. He moved back toward the dresser, perching me on the edge of it as he repositioned himself at my entrance and sank in. The sudden sensation of him filling me caused our chuckles to turn to a deep groan. He stood there for a moment, allowing me to adjust to the new angle.

He smiled against my lips, “See…I got this.”

I gave him a teasing look and nodded, “Then get to it Bravo. Show me how it’s done.”

His hips began to move, slowly at first so I could feel every inch of him sliding against me. It was already creating a delicious sensation that would soon turn me into a quivering mess in his arms. He began to snap his hips a little faster which resulted in a thumping noise from the mirror smacking against the wall. The faster he went, the louder it got, which caused me to lose it all over again.

He stopped moving as his forehead tilted forward to lean against my shoulder, “Oh for fuck’s sake.”

When my eyes finally met his, he was fighting a smile. “I just wanna have sneaky sex in my old bedroom, is that too much to ask?”

I snickered as I pushed at his chest for him to back away, “Ok, it’s my turn. Watch and learn.”

I hopped down off the dresser and turned my back to him, leaning forward to place my hands on the top of the dresser to brace myself as I arched my ass toward him. I turned to look at him over my shoulder with a teasing smirk, “Mount up, lover boy.”

He chuckled as he came up behind me, one hand grasping my hip as the other gripped the base of his cock to slide back in. I gasped at the feel of him as he leaned flush against me, lips brushing my ear as he spoke. “You think you’re such a clever girl, don’t ya.”

I nodded as his hips snapped against my ass, now panting as I muttered out some teasing words. “I know I am.”

His hands snaked around to my front, one pulling me flush against him as the other rubbed tight circles on my clit. “I guess that means you deserve to come again. Come on, love. Give me another one.”

That was enough to send me over the edge again, causing him to grunt against my ear as my walls constricted around him. After a few more thrusts, his groans turned to soft whimpers as he spilled inside of me. His arms tightened around me as he buried his face into the top of my shoulder. We stayed like that for a couple of minutes, attempting to catch our breath and come back to reality.

I felt his lips against my skin, placing gentle kisses before he raised his head to look at me with a blissed-out expression. “You’re so fucking perfect. I love you. Have I told you that today?”

I smiled up at him, “You have, but you can tell me that as many times as you want.”

He captured my lips in a brief kiss before pulling out with a groan. “Lemme see if I can find something to clean you up with.”

I stopped him, “No, leave it. I wanna keep you close tonight.”

His brows arched as he smirked at me, “Such a dirty girl. I fucking love it.”

I gave him a quick peck on the lips, “I know you do. Now get dressed. We’ve probably been gone too long as it is.”

He nodded as he turned to search out his clothes, tossing me my underwear before picking up his pants. We spent a few minutes getting decent. After touching up my makeup and sorting out Dieter’s messy sex hair, we finally made our way downstairs.

Dieter had his hands on either side of my waist as he walked closely behind me, leaning in next to my ear to whisper about how he was going to take this dress off of me again later. Neither of us paid much attention as we rounded the corner to the living room, causing us to nearly crash into a broad figure. I felt Dieter stiffen behind me as I began to murmur my apologies until my eyes met the chocolate ones peering down at me. With a smirk that was still sexy as ever, Lucien de Leon spoke in that deep raspy voice that I knew so well, “Sorry sweetheart, didn’t see you coming.” He did not seem the least bit surprised to see me.

I felt like I was going to be sick as I wondered what the hell he was doing here. I felt Dieter’s grip tighten as he pulled me closer to him, “Lucien, I thought mom said you weren’t gonna make it?” His voice sounded off, almost like it was a warning more than a question.

Lucien shrugged as he glanced at me, “I…changed my mind.”

Dieter sighed, now peering down at me, “I guess I should introduce you…this is my brother, Lucien.”

Brother? What. The. Fuck. I was struggling to breathe as I gave Lucien a nervous smile, reaching my hand toward him to shake and giving him my name like it was the first time we had ever laid eyes on each other. He hesitated, still with that smirk before finally reaching out to take my hand in his to play along.

“So, you’re the one that’s turned my brother into a good boy, ehh?” he finally said in a teasing tone.

I gave him a tight smile, “No. Your brother did that himself. He worked for it.”

Dieter was beside me now, eyes shifting between Lucien and I with raised brows.

Lucien gave me an amused look before his eyes shifted to his brother, “Well, good for him. I’ll be shocked if it sticks.”

Dieter scoffed, “Fuck off. You don’t know me…I’ve changed.”

Lucien rolled his eyes in response before changing the subject. A smug look suddenly forming on his face, “I got a call back on that new Scorsese film. It’s supposed to be a big deal.”

Dieter gave him a very unimpressed stare, “Listen, I’m sorry. I’m trying to care, but it’s hard. Besides, they offered me the lead and I turned it down. I have a prior commitment. I already have my Oscar, so whatever.”

I stifled a laugh as they exchanged a cold glare. Lucien seemed to break first, “Well, I’ll let you two get back to the party. I think mom was looking for you.”

He walked away without another word, ending the childish pissing match between them for the time being.

Dieter huffed, “Fucking asshole. Come on.”

After taking my hand, he pulled me through the tightly packed crowd in search of his mom. I could feel his calming warmth radiating through my skin, but mentally I was somewhere else. Ten years in the past to be specific, where I first met Lucien.

Lucien and I had been cast as the two leads in a play at one of the local theaters. Our relationship was all consuming, passionate, and toxic. We were right for each other in so many ways, but too broken to make it work. In all the ways that he was sweet, sexy, and charming he was equally as stubborn, selfish, and sometimes cruel. Not that I had been any better. Both of us were guilty of saying things we didn’t mean to purposefully hurt the other. We really did bring out the worst parts of each other. Though I still maintain most of our problems stemmed from his constant drinking. It was only ever bad when he was drinking. It turned him into another person that I eventually learned to hate and resent.

We tried being together several times over the years. It never failed. We would randomly run into each other in some public place, immediately fall back into bed and swear to do better, but it never worked. The same issues always inevitably reared their ugly head. I willingly gave him everything, and he broke me again and again.

Knowing our history and how easily we always found ourselves back together was igniting a fear in me. We were like magnets. It was damn near impossible for us to stay apart from each other. I ruined many good relationships for him, but I couldn’t do that now. I couldn’t do that to Dieter.

Dieter was amazing. He was all the things that Lucien was never able to be. He was all of the best parts of Lucien plus more. Dieter gave me his love and affection so willingly. With Lucien, I had to fight for scraps. Each little morsel kept my hope alive just enough to make me believe that he loved me as much as I loved him. Those little morsels were what kept me going for years, but in the end it wasn’t enough.

As Lucien’s star began to rise in the film industry, we finally hit a wall. He was pictured kissing some model at a Hollywood party, which made it into the tabloids, and inevitably into my hands. It was my last straw. I hadn’t seen him in person since the night I confronted him about it and ended things. He eventually became fairly well known in the film industry. It didn’t take long for him to establish his reputation as a womanizer and Hollywood fuckboy. As far as I knew, he still had that reputation, even if he was now considered to be a D-list actor.

It was a massive effort to keep myself in the present as Dieter and I mingled with his family and friends. It didn’t help that I kept catching Lucien’s gaze from where he wandered on the outskirts of the crowd. I knew exactly where he was at all times because I could feel his eyes burning into me. It was making me anxious. I knew him and I knew he wasn’t going to make this easy on me. We had played this game too many times.

I needed a break, so I excused myself to go to the bathroom. Upon finding a line for the downstairs bathroom, I made my way upstairs since no partygoers were permitted up there. Once I was finally alone, I let out a sigh of relief. Now focusing on my breathing to try and get my heart rate back to normal. Being away from Lucien was doing me wonders, allowing me to ground myself and fully come back to the present. I had to remind myself that I wasn’t the same person anymore. I could resist him now.

After finishing up, I opened the door to exit but was suddenly crowded backwards into the small room. My nose was assaulted with the familiar smell of Lucien's musky cologne as he turned to close and lock the door behind him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I hissed.

“I need to talk to you,” he answered with pleading eyes.

I shook my head, trying to push past him. “I have nothing to say, and I can’t be here with you.”

He held out his arm, grabbing me around the middle to stop my progress. “Baby, please. I just wanna talk, I swear.”

I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest as I moved to the opposite side of the room, “Don’t call me that.”

“Why are you with my brother?” he asked. Not even acknowledging my demand.

I let out a sardonic laugh, “I didn’t know he was your brother.”

His brows furrowed, “How the fuck did you not know we’re brothers?”

I scoffed, “You told me your brother's name was David.”

His brows raised, “It is…legally. Didn’t he tell you that?”

I rubbed a hand down my face, “You don’t even have the same last name! How the fuck was I supposed to know?”

He looked amused now, “You didn’t think it odd that we look so similar?”

I let out a controlled breath, “No, I didn’t actually. I have a type, OK. I know this. I just figured you guys looked alike in the way that Elijah Wood and Daniel Radcliffe look alike…or Javier Bardem and Jeffrey Dean Morgan…or Emilio Estevez and Charlie Sheen.”

He chuckled, “You do know that Emilio Estevez and Charlie Sheen are brothers, right?”

I sighed, “No, I didn’t. Maybe you fuckers should keep the same last name to cut back on the confusion.”

He was smiling at me now, “You’re still feisty I see. God, I’ve missed that.”

I held up my hand to silence him, “Don’t say shit like that.”

“Come on honey, you know you miss me.” That ridiculous smirk was back on his lips as I glared at him.

“So, I take it you haven’t told my brother about me after that little stunt you pulled downstairs.”

I rolled my eyes, “No. Not by name anyway. All he knows is that I had a problematic ex that fucked me up.”

He sucked air through his teeth, “That’s harsh. You know you can’t blame all that on me.”

I stared at him for a beat, “No. You’re right. You just added to it and took it over the top.”

He came closer, causing me to back up against the sink as he looked me over from head to toe.

“You look beautiful tonight. I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off you…”

I refused to look his way as he leaned in closer, “I noticed. You need to stop it before someone notices.”

His curved nose grazed the shell of my ear. I had to force my thighs not to clench together from the contact.

“I miss you ya know? I’ve been trying to get in touch with you…but you’ve been hard to track down. Now I know why.”

I jerked away from him, “What do you want, Lucien? Your little game isn’t gonna work this time. I’m not falling for it. I love Dieter.”

His eyes widened, “Love? Well, that’s a development. I don’t remember you saying that about any of the others.”

I rolled my eyes, “Yes. I love him…I’m happy. We’re…getting married.”

He scoffed, “You realize he’s been married twice already…right? This isn’t new for him.”

That hit a nerve, and he knew it.

“That may be true, but he wasn’t sober then. He is now. He’s got his life figured out…unlike you.”

He feigned offense, “Hey, I went to rehab too you know. I’m trying here. Which is why I wanted to talk to you. I need to tell you I’m sorry.”

His energy shifted. I couldn’t tell if this was another one of his games or not. I was taken off guard as he turned away from me, seeming almost pensive as he continued.

“I know…I’m a large part of the reason that we never worked. I was emotionally unavailable, and I let what little fame I managed to gain go to my head. I broke a lot of my promises…you deserved better.”

I let out a steady breath, attempting to control my emotions. I had waited years to hear those words, eventually accepting that I never would. Yet, here we were.

“Well, I appreciate the apology. Thank you for that.”

He gnawed at his lip for a beat before turning to meet my gaze, “Do you think…maybe we could try again?”

Anger flooded through me. He was giving me whiplash from all the different emotions he was pulling out of me in such a short time period. I shook my head, biting back a disdainful laugh. “You have got to be fucking kidding me right now.”

It was his turn to shake his head, “No. I’m not. I’m still in love with you. It was always you. I was just too stupid to see it.”

I felt near bursting into tears, and I wasn’t sure if it was from anger, pain, or something else. “I’m not doing this with you again.”

His brows pinched together, “You really think he can make you happy? He’s nothing but the knock off version of me. You’re attracted to him because he reminds you of me. Admit it.”

I scoffed, “You two may look similar, but Dieter is nothing like you. He and I have connected in ways we never will. If you wanna compare…he’s the name brand version that I should have started with. You were a bad decision, a waste of my time and money, and I can’t even get a fucking refund.”

He pursed his lips, allowing time for the words to sink in. That hit a nerve as intended.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m sure my fiancé is wondering where I am. I can’t have him finding us in here together.”

I brushed past him to unlock and open the door. He didn’t stop me this time. I felt strangely liberated as I made my way downstairs, never having been able to deny Lucien in that way before. I wasn’t weak anymore. I was the one in control.

It didn’t take long for me to find Dieter. His tea kettle laugh could be heard over everyone else. All I had to do was follow the sound. As I approached, he wrapped his arm around me and placed a quick kiss on the top of my head before he went back to his conversation. I loved seeing him like this. His happiness from reuniting with his family after so many years of being ostracized over his bad behavior and drug habits helped ground me.

Dieter was attentive as we continued to mingle, making sure to include me in his conversations while keeping physical contact at all times. From the way he kept glancing at me, I knew he could sense the lingering tension from my interaction with his brother. He probably just assumed it was nerves from meeting his family and hopefully didn’t suspect anything, but I knew I would have to tell him the truth. And soon.

Though I made a point to keep my attention on Dieter, I could still sense Lucien’s presence. It seemed like the harder I tried to ignore him, the more taunting he became. He worked his way through the crowd, becoming louder and more boisterous as the evening went on. With each pass around the room, I found him getting closer and closer. Eventually, I found him chatting in the groups near us, positioning himself where he was in my direct line of sight or close enough behind me that he could brush against me in some way. His proximity was affecting me in ways I didn't want to admit. There was something sort of thrilling about our secret and his audacious behavior that was arousing. However, the moment I looked at Dieter, it all disappeared. He was my life now. He held my heart carefully. Lucien never did anything but smash it into a million pieces.

I briefly stepped away from Dieter to grab us a bottle of water from the kitchen. As I stood with the refrigerator door open, I was surprised to feel strong hands grip my hips, then slide around my waist to pull me closer. Plump lips trailed down the curve of my neck, causing me to suck in a breath. I knew instantly who it was from the way he touched me and the feel of his mouth. My body betrayed me, reacting on instinct as it melted into his embrace. My mind finally caught up, causing me to abruptly turn and push him away.

“What the fuck is you’re problem, Lucien?”

His cocky grin was back, “I’m just reminding you what you’re missing, baby. I can tell; you're questioning yourself. You’re not sure what you want. I’m here to make sure you know your options.”

I scoffed, “You’re so fucking delusional. Leave me alone.”

I grabbed a bottle of water, then slammed the door closed as I moved away from him. Once back with Dieter, I felt distracted. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way Lucien’s lips felt on my body or the way his stupid gold chains used to gently graze against my skin as he moved above me. The thoughts caused that familiar ache to form at the apex of my thighs. I hadn’t seen or sensed Lucien since leaving him in the kitchen, yet he was still having this effect on me.

I suddenly felt hot and claustrophobic at the realization. I didn’t understand what it meant. Dieter noticed, leaning in to ask if I was feeling ok as his hand rubbed soothing circles on my lower back. I nodded, “Yeah, I think I just need some air.”

He moved to come with me, but I stopped him. “No, you stay and talk to your uncle. I’ll be fine. I’ll be right back.”

I soon found myself on the back patio, inhaling deeply to catch my breath as the chilly night air instantly cooled my burning skin. It was a relief and allowed me to calm the storm that was brewing inside of my mind. The reaction I was having to Lucien was purely physical. It meant nothing. I didn’t love him anymore. This would feel differently if that wasn’t the case.

Suddenly, I felt that magnetic pull. My attention was drawn to the shadows, seeing the glow of a cigarette before Lucien stepped into the light. He came closer and offered it to me.

I shook my head, “I don’t smoke anymore.”

He shrugged, “Suit yourself.”

There was an awkward silence that stretched between us as he puffed away until the cigarette was done. His mood now seemed a little more somber than it had in the kitchen.

He finally spoke, “You know…I was just watching you two together…from out here. You’re different with him…and him with you. I can tell you really care about each other…and you lean on each other for support. That’s good. I’m happy you’ve both found that.”

I was taken aback by his words, but I couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or not.

“Maybe one day I’ll find that too. I think it would do me some good.”

I gave him a soft smile, “It always helps to have a support system.”

He pursed his lips in thought, “Do you remember how we used to go to the video store and rent like five movies and stay up all night to watch them in bed?”

I nodded and smiled at the memories. It was some of our happier times together.

“You used to get so mad at me for eating chips in the bed because of the crumbs, but then I would always find stray peanut m&m’s a week later.”

I laughed, “Chip crumbs are way worse to clean than peanut m&m’s though.”

He nodded and chuckled, “Yeah, maybe.”

His brows furrowed, “I don’t think I’ve eaten or watched a movie in bed since you left. That was our thing. I can’t do it without you.”

I sighed, “Lucien, don’t do this. Please.”

He held his hands up in surrender, “Just wait. I-I-I real- I-I really have to do this…I need to get these unresolved feelings out. I fucked up. A lot. I know this. I was selfish and mentally checked out before the good parts, the house…the kids, the Christmas cards. I’m sorry for that. I just felt so much pressure about it all. I needed to accomplish too much to get us there and I didn’t think I could do it.”

He moved in closer, cupping my cheek as he gave me that baby cow eye look that always bent me to his whim. I couldn’t move or breathe.

“I do still love you. I meant that. I would do anything to have you back.”

He leaned in further and paused, giving me a chance to rebuff him again, but I couldn’t. I was still frozen by him, his words, his voice, his touch…I could feel that small ember that burned for him slowly igniting into a flame as I got lost in his soulful eyes. I felt confused. I couldn’t distinguish if it was my heart or cunt talking, telling me to at least see where things go.

When I didn’t immediately pull away, he closed the distance between us, capturing my mouth with his. His kiss was commanding, confident, and sensual. It stirred something inside me that I admit I never felt with anyone else, not even Dieter. It was feral and uninhibited in almost an unhealthy way. He broke the kiss, both of us panting as our gazes met. My resolve was quickly crumbling, and he knew it.

That cocky smirk returned to his lips as he took my hand and pulled me toward the side of the house that was hidden in the shadows. It was like my brain had switched into autopilot, entering the submissive state that he loved so much.

After caging me in against the side of the house, his lips crashed into mine as he dipped lower to grind his hips against me. I could feel his hard length pressing against my center, and God I wanted it. I wanted him.

His lips began to trail downward, nipping and licking down the curve of my neck.

I sighed, attempting to gain my resolve as I managed to say, “Lucien, we can’t do this. It’s wrong.”

My actions did not match my words as my fingertips knotted in his hair and held him tighter to me. I could feel him smiling against my skin, continuing to place small kisses between his words as he responded.

“It’s not really happening. We’re just finishing unfinished business in a parallel universe.”

I chuckled, “You’re so fucking ridiculous.”

His lips were hovering near mine, smiling as he replied, “I know…that’s why you love me.”

His words made me think of Dieter. That was always his response too. Lucien’s hand reached for the left strap of my dress, beginning to lower it off my shoulder before I stopped it and forced him to meet my gaze.

“What about your brother? Your mom? If we do this, it’s gonna hurt them. I don’t think there’s any coming back from that.”

He shrugged, “I don’t care. They don’t matter to me. I need you in my life. Please.”

“You think I can hurt them like that?” I asked. His spell over me was quickly fading.

“You’ll have me, baby. It’ll be ok.”

As my eyes drifted over his stupidly beautiful face it was now obvious to me, he hadn’t changed. Not really. He might or might not be sober, but he was still a selfish asshole who only ever thought of himself. He still had a way to go before he actually had his shit together and learned to be a better person.

He obviously couldn’t read the shift in my mood as he leaned in to suck on my neck.

I moved my lips closer to his ear, “You know I just had sex with your brother less than three hours ago in his old bedroom upstairs.”

He pulled away with a confused look. “What? You wanna fuck me in my old room too?”

He was missing the point. This isn’t me. I don’t do this anymore.

“I can still feel his cum dripping out of me. Does that not bother you?”

His brows furrowed as he turned away and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Fucking hell, do you have to be so crass about it? That’s not exactly what I wanna be thinking about right now.”

I scoffed, “Crass? That’s ironic coming from you…and yes. If that’s what I need to do to get my point across, then so be it. I’m not that person anymore, Lucien. I’m putting an end to this now. I will not do this to Dieter…I love him too much. I’m not ruining my life for you ever again.”

His jaw clenched, “Who says you would be ruining your life? I’m ready to settle down and have a family, a house… all the things I promised.”

I had to bite back a laugh, “Then why don’t you do that with one of the five women you already have kids with.”

His brows arched, “Excuse me? I only have two kids.”

He paused and grimaced, “There may be a third one, but I’m not sure what’s happening with that, yet...”

My mouth dropped open with that news, “Oh and when were you gonna tell me about that? You’re seriously out here professing your love to me when you’ve knocked up someone else? You’re a real piece of work. You’re obviously still a hot fucking mess. I can’t believe you seriously think you can offer me more than Dieter.”

He laughed as he crowded my space again, “Is that what it’s about? Money?”

I pushed him away, “Fuck you. You know that’s not what I mean. He loves me and he makes sure I know it. I don’t have to beg him for affection or an emotional connection. He gives it willingly.”

He rolled his eyes, “Right, he must not give you everything you need if you’re melting in my hands so easily.”

We were already sliding back into old habits by slinging insults at each other. This is why we didn’t work.

“Did you miss the part where I said we just had sex? He’s much more attentive than you ever were. I’ve never had to fake it with him.”

I could tell that was his final straw. There was no questioning Lucien de Leon’s skill in the bedroom. In his mind, he was a sex god. He wasn’t wrong. He was fucking amazing in bed, but he didn’t need to know I thought that.

His jaw clenched as his face flushed with anger. He looked like he was considering his next words before he spoke. Obviously deciding he was going for maximum damage.

“I got Delia pregnant.”

I felt like a bomb had just detonated in my face, swallowing the world around us and leaving nothing but ringing in my ears. Once I regained my senses, all I could manage to get out was a strangled, “What?”

He had his cocky asshole smile on now, suddenly playing it casual.

“Yeah, I saw her out at a bar several months ago. I wanted to ask her about you… and we just started talking…had one too many drinks…then went back to her place and spent all night fucking. We’ve seen each other on and off a few times since then. So, yeah. I knocked up your best friend.”

I hated him. I hated him for the way he had treated me and for whatever way he was about to treat her even though she should have known better.

I scoffed, “You’re unbelievable.”

I pushed past him to go back inside. I could hear him apologizing as he followed behind me, realizing he finally took it too far. I was telling him to ‘fuck off’ just as Dieter stepped outside. Lucien and I stopped short at the edge of the patio when we realized Dieter was there, eyes shifting between the two of us as he worked out what he was seeing.

I sighed, my eyes closing in defeat and shame realizing there was no way to get out of it, but I didn’t want him finding out like this.

Dieter approached; lips set into a tight line as he continued to look between us. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Lucien looked at me with wide eyes. For once in his life, he was keeping his damn mouth shut. I inhaled deeply; my mouth opened but no words came out. I didn’t know where to start.

Dieter’s brows furrowed, “You slept with my brother…didn’t you?”

The look on my face must have told him all he needed to know as he pursed his lips and nodded in understanding. “I mean…it’s not the first time this has happened with him and someone I was dating. So, I shouldn’t be shocked.”

I stepped closer to him, “Dieter, it was years ago. Before I knew you…I didn’t know he was your brother or else I would’ve told you. I mean…I kind of told you, but I didn’t say his name. He’s the one that fucked me up so badly.”

I could see anger flash in his eyes as he shot daggers toward Lucien, realizing all the terrible things he had done to me. “I always knew you were an asshole, but damn. You need some serious help.”

Lucien had the audacity to look offended by that before Dieter’s attention turned back to me. “And you…how the hell did you not know he was my brother? Everybody knows that.”

I scoffed, “You told me your brother's name was Richard. And you fuckers don’t even have the same last name…You know what, I’m not having this conversation again…”

Dieter shrugged, “His name is Richard…legally. He didn’t tell you that?”

I huffed, rubbing at my temple, “Fucking hell, you two. Maybe you’re more alike than I realized.”

I couldn’t help the giggle that suddenly escaped as I peered up at Lucien, “Your name is actually Dick? That’s fitting…should have stuck with it.”

Lucien rolled his eyes, “Fuck off with that.”

Dieter snorted out laughter as he pulled me into his side, “I love you. Your so fucking perfect.”

I sighed in relief as our gazes met, “You’re not angry with me?”

He shook his head, “How can I be? It was years ago. Besides, I know how he is…always been more charming than me. All the ladies fall for him at some point. At least you’ve already gotten it out of your system.”

Lucien suddenly looked disgusted as he muttered, “I can’t fucking believe this…”

My eyes narrowed at him, “Lucien, you really need to get it together…reevaluate your life. And it sounds to me that you have someone else you need to work things out with. Do right by her, please.”

His brows pinched together as his eyes met mine. An understanding seemed to pass between us. We were done. For good. I gave him a tight smile as I nudged Dieter toward the door to go inside. Lucien didn’t move to follow, but I could feel his eyes on us until I closed the door behind us.

A short time later, Dieter’s mom announced the news of our engagement to everyone. She didn’t hesitate to pull us in for tight hugs as she congratulated us with a wide toothy smile. I could see Lucien in my periphery, jaw tense with a slight frown on his lips and a bottle of something in hand. Then, in the blink of an eye, he was gone. Even with all the bravado and posturing, I could tell he was hurt. I didn’t doubt that he had feelings for me, but they were never enough to make him change his ways.

After Lucien left, things felt more relaxed. Dieter and I enjoyed the rest of the evening together, smiling happily as we told his parents goodbye to head home. We soon found ourselves snuggled up on the sectional next to the fireplace as we admired our first Christmas tree. Our conversation eventually turned to Lucien and our history. I helped fill in the gaps and answer any questions Dieter had, making sure he knew I was committed to him and him alone.

“I know he’s your brother, and it may make things harder between you two, but I can never fully forgive him for how he treated me…but I do wish him well. I hope that he can get his life together and find peace.”

Dieter sighed, “He's such an almighty fuck up. And I love him…but he makes it hard. I miss who he used to be. We used to be so close…until the Hollywood lifestyle started getting to us. Everything became a competition and we both sort of spiraled out of control in so many ways. Maybe one day…I’ll get my brother back. I can’t forgive him for everything, but I can try.”

I squeezed him a little tighter, “Maybe you should offer an olive branch? Maybe he would let you help him get sober?”

Dieter pursed his lips in thought, “Yeah…maybe…”

Lucien’s POV

As I sat and watched the love of my life and brother announce their engagement to the family, a lot of thoughts and feelings were swirling around in my head. After seeing them together, I couldn’t deny they were both happy. She had chosen the better man. I accepted it at that moment, deciding it was time to move on.

Not wanting to stick around and further wallow in my pain, I found myself outside Delia’s small studio apartment with a fresh bottle of bourbon in hand. I had been in denial about her for weeks. After our time together I was beginning to feel…something for her. She wasn’t the one that I wanted in my future, but that didn’t mean she was a bad choice. If she decided to keep the baby, she was going to be part of my future anyway.

We spent some time discussing things and I assured her I would be supportive if she decided to keep the baby. Personally, I wanted her to. I had a sudden urge to try and make things work with her. As I laid next to her sleeping form on the bed, staring at the small christmas tree illuminated in the corner and nursing a glass of bourbon, my phone vibrated on the nightstand. I was surprised to see that it was my brother calling. I sighed, my thumb hovering over ‘ignore’ before I finally decided to answer.

I quickly stood, moving to the bathroom to avoid waking Delia, then answered.

“Well, well. Hello brother. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

I could hear Dieter suck in a breath on the other end of the line, “I uhh…just wanted to check in and make sure you’re good.”

His words and tone stirred something inside of me. This was the old Dieter talking. The one I cared about before things went to hell between us. It caused a rush of emotions that I had to fight back, inhaling deeply to collect myself before I answered,

“Yeah, I’m good…your girl really knows how to bring a man to his knees, but I’ll live. I can see that she’s happy and that’s all that matters. I’m moving on.”

Dieter chuckled, “That she can do…but that doesn’t mean she…that we…don’t care about your wellbeing. I want you to know that. If you ever decide…to try…to wanna get sober, I wanna help you. I want us to move past all the shit we did to each other and try to be brothers again.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I was shocked, but I didn’t hate the idea. Deep down, I did miss my brother. I tried to cover my emotions with a snicker, “Well, isn’t this a Christmas fucking miracle. I guess this means the Bravo brothers are back…Maybe I’ll change my name again.”

Dieter laughed, “Let’s not get too crazy now…one step at a time.”

My brows furrowed as tears formed in the corners of my eyes, “Do you think you could uhh…send me the information for that rehab place you went to?”

I could hear the smile in his voice, “Yeah…I’ll send it right over. If you decide you wanna go…I can…take you…if you want?”

I nodded even though he couldn’t see me, fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall. I had to clear the lump in my throat before I could respond, “Uh, yeah…I think I’d like that.”

“Amazing…well…just tell me when you’re ready and I’m there, brother.”

He sounded like he was fighting his emotions just as much as I was.

“I will…It was…good to talk to you.”

“You too. Merry Christmas, Lucien.”

A small smile formed on my lips, “Merry Christmas, Dieter.”

After hanging up with Dieter, I didn’t think twice before seeking out the bourbon I had arrived with and pouring it down the drain. I could feel it. This was a turning point for me. A new path that I had to choose to take because I wanted to, not because it was expected. If Dieter could do it, then so could I. It was time I moved on with my life and found happiness too.

As I snuggled up next to Delia, I could faintly envision our future together. If she was willing to try, then so was I. Maybe she was meant to be my happy ending…with the house, the kids, and the fucking Christmas cards.

A/N: Hello my lovelies! Thanks for stopping by!

I've gotta say...the speed at which I busted this out (less than 48 hours) has to be a record. And here I was worried it wouldn't be done by Christmas. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. Happy holidays!🤣

👉If you're a Dieter lover (like myself) and you're new to my work, I have lots more for you to enjoy HERE. Including my mystical Christmas fic from last year. I've also got a little Frankie thrown on the masterlist too. Happy reading!💜

Tagging those who interacted with the teaser post:

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Credits: MDNI & Support banner by @cafekitsune Christmas Lights by @strangergraphics

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #lucien flores #lucien de leon #dieter bravo #christmas drama #angst #choices #this ain't no hallmark movie #christmas fucking miracle #i gave you my heart #dieter bravo fic rec #dieter bravo one shot fic rec #lucien flores fic rec #lucien flores one shot fic rec #BlueChristmasWritingChallenge2024

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queenshelby · 8 months ago

Text

AMERICAN GIRL (PART TWO)

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Grace's Stepdaughter!Reader

Warning: Grace is a bully, infidelity, taboo, slow-burn

The following morning, when you woke up, it felt like a dream, hazy and blurred around the edges. But as the memories of the past few days came rushing back, accompanied by the now familiar feeling of unease, you remembered it was no dream.

You were living a new life now and you were determined to make the best of it. It could be exciting, even thrilling.

The next few days passed by without any major incident, although the tension in the air was palpable especially since you and Emma never really left the house. These were Grace's orders and within the confinement of this mansion, you tried to find solace in the quiet moments: the few minutes you stole for yourself in the library, that early morning walk in the garden, without Grace's or anyone else's presence.

It helped you maintain your calm, just as it did in prison, but there was no denying that this house carried a certain unease everywhere you went, instilled in its foundations and passed on from person to person, until it had become an unspoken presence.

Tommy had been away for most days, busying himself with work and illegal dealings while Grace either stayed at home or indulged in some shopping trips to either Birmingham or London.

Over the days that had passed, when Tommy was around, mostly in the evenings or the early mornings, you heard him arguing with Grace. They argued a lot and you wondered why he was still with her after all those years.

You have heard some gossip from the maids in the house, the ones that were nosy and talking a lot, about how Grace had betrayed Tommy and, yet, he had fallen for her charm and her wit. She was his first true love after France and you wondered whether, perhaps, he held on to that or whether this had become strictly business now that Grace had connections to both, the US and Ireland.

One of the arguments in particular surrounded the fact that you and Emma were here, which was something that made you uneasy.

You overheard them talking about you and Emma in Tommy's office late one night, and you couldn't help but listen in - not because you wanted to snoop, but because their hushed conversation piqued your curiosity.

"I don't fucking understand, Grace. Why would you bring them here?" Tommy's voice was low and controlled, but there was no mistaking the frustration in his tone.

"They're my stepdaughters, Thomas. It's not as if I had a choice in the matter. The Americans made a demand and I adhered, for your sake and for the sake of your business interests with them," Grace replied, her voice equally measured.

"For my sake, eh?" Tommy 's voice was dripping with sarcasm now, his eyebrows furrowing together as he leaned forward against the desk. "You adhered for my sake? I'm not so fucking sure, Grace. But then again, I am never so fucking sure with you," he spat and Grace let out a derisive snort.

"Alright, Thomas. I brought them here because I felt guilty for what happened. Emma was abused by another family member, which is why Y/N interfered. None of this would have happened if I had been a better person," Grace lied, feigning innocence which is when you clenched your fists, but held your tongue, knowing that getting involved in their argument would do nothing but add fuel to the fire.

Tommy's gaze was fixed on Grace, his expression unreadable. "And you felt so guilty that you put them in the staffing quarters, Grace? Why is that?" he said, his tone ominous. "I suppose your guilt has limits, eh? Because clearly, you do not want to spend time with either of them and, yet, they are here, in my fucking house," Tommy's voice was low and dangerous, his eyes never leaving Grace's face.

Grace pursed her lips, her eyes flashing angrily. "You know as well as I do, Thomas, that having them in our living quarters complicates things. They will be a distraction and-"

"You are afraid of Y/N, aren't you?" Tommy interrupted her , his voice laced with amusement that sent a chill down her spine.

"Alright Tommy, perhaps I am afraid of her," Grace then admitted , her words barely escaping her lips, catching even herself by surprise.

She recovered quickly, continuing, "But with the connection they have to the American family, our business interests could be compromised. Surely you understand the implications-"

Tommy held up a hand, silencing Grace midsentence. "I understand the implications too well, Grace. But now I want to know why you are afraid of a 19-year-old woman ." Tommy's blue eyes bore into Grace's, his voice steady and unwavering. He had always been intuitive and perceptive and it was no different this time.

Grace took a deep breath, silently cursing herself for revealing her fear. "I am afraid of her because her father killed himself after the things I did to him. I cheated him for years and he never forgave me for that," Grace murmured, her voice barely audible. "I broke his heart in every imaginable way and he, in turn, destroyed himself because of me."

Thomas regarded Grace for a moment, absorbing what she just revealed to him. "And I am the man you cheated on him with?" he ought to confirm , the seriousness of his tone causing Grace's heart to quicken.

"Yes, Thomas." Her voice was a mere whisper, but she could sense his focus intensifying, the air in the room growing thicker by the second.

"Fucking Hell Grace," Thomas muttered slowly, dragging a hand through his jet-black hair. "So, you thought it would be good idea to bring them into the man's house who you know they would likely blame for their father's death? Are you fucking serious?" Thomas' voice was laced with a mixture of confusion and anger. "You really thought bringing them here would be a good idea? Bringing them to the place where they could see you with the man you had an affair with, the man who you had betrayed their father’s trust with?" Thomas' words came out in a harsh whisper as he shook his head in disappointment.

Grace swallowed hard, her throat suddenly feeling dry as she tried her best to justify her actions.

"Y/N killed a man, with a single gunshot to the head, and you bring her to my house, eh?" he then asked, raising an eyebrow at Grace and causing her to flinch at the harshness of his words.

Grace averted her gaze, carefully selecting her next words. "I brought them to the safest place I knew, and I secured two more years of trade with New York," she reasoned, though her words held more desperation than conviction.

Tommy took a deep breath, gritting his teeth as he tried to swallow his anger which is when you swallowed your pride and tore yourself away from the door, your bare feet silently padding the length of the hallway as you made your way back to your guest room. There was no use in listening to their quarrel anymore; the truth was out of the bag now, and it hung between them like a noose, waiting for an opportunity to tighten around their throats.

But as much as you tried to focus on the silence of the mansion, the words you had just heard continued to play at the forefront of your mind, an inescapable echo that threatened to consume you entirely.

You knew who Tommy was and it served Grace right to be afraid of you , because you would never forgive her for the things she had done to your father. Not entirely. And yet, despite that knowledge, you also couldn't help but feel some small fragment of gratitude for the roof over your head and food on your table.

You sighed, pushing yourself off the bed and opening the windows to let in a cool breeze. The sound of trees rustling in the wind and the distant chatter of birds momentarily soothed your racing thoughts and, when you looked out of the window, you noticed Tommy retreating from the house , his shoulders tense and his gait heavy with what appeared to be an inner turmoil.

A ripple of guilt washed over you, knowing you may have contributed to his stress, and yet, you couldn't shake the sense of betrayal that lingered following what you had heard in the hallway.

Instinctively, you slipped on a silk robe, its emerald green color mirroring the depths of your eyes, as you left your room to join him outside. The mansion was quiet except for the distant echo of your footsteps as you traversed the corridor.

Tommy was out on the patio when you found him and his gaze was fixed on the darkness of the woods nearby.

A glass of whiskey dangled loosely from his hand, the amber liquid sloshing gently with each movement. You could see his jaw clenched tightly, and the rigid line of his shoulders told you this was uncomfortable somehow.

As you approached, Tommy glanced up and offered you a small, weary smile.

"Can't sleep?" he asked, the huskiness in his voice betraying his own restless night.

You shook your head slightly, shuddering against the cool spring breeze that drifted across the open patio. "I must admit, the house is somewhat... unsettling at night."

Tommy's eyes narrowed thoughtfully for a moment, as though weighing his words. "I imagine it would be," he conceded as you tentatively reached for the whiskey glass in his hand.

Tommy didn't hesitate to release it to you, his fingers brushing against yours with an unexpected warmth, sending a jolt through your body once again.

The whiskey burned pleasantly as you swallowed it down, letting the warmth spread through your chest and help to calm your racing thoughts. "I guess it's just going to take some time getting used to," you replied with a soft smile as you handed the glass back to him.

Tommy looked at you thoughtfully for a moment, his gaze unwavering, and you could feel yourself sinking into the depth of those blue eyes.

"I suppose it will," he finally responded, his voice barely above a whisper.

For a fleeting moment, silence hung in the air between you, pregnant with an expectation that neither of you dared to acknowledge. He took another sip from his glass, his eyes never leaving yours as the silence continued to stretched on, forming a strange intimacy that you had not anticipated. It was almost as if only the two of you existed in that moment, and everything else faded away into oblivion.

Despite the tension, Tommy felt the need to fill the void that had settled between you.

"I suppose we all have our ghosts to face in this house," he finally admitted, a whimsical smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You followed his gaze as it travelled towards the dense trees standing tall in the distance. The darkness seemed inviting, and the quiet seemed soothing, contrasting sharply with the unrest that churned within the walls of the mansion.

"My father once told me that we all have our stories to tell and so do the houses we live in. If these walls could talk, what do you suppose they would have to say?" you said, your voice barely above a whisper, the words floating effortlessly into the cool night air.

A faint smile graced your lips as a myriad of memories from your childhood invaded your thoughts.

"They would tell many tales indeed," Tommy agreed, swirling the contents of his glass before taking another sip of the fiery amber liquid. "This house belonged to a respectable man once, but he was also a lonely man, with no one to inherit his fortune," he began, casting a brief look over his shoulder to where the mansion stood, towering behind you both like an impenetrable fortress. "He took in strays, gave them a roof over their head and food on their table - but he never took in a woman whom he loved," Tommy told you and you watched him as he recalled the story, transported to another time and another place by the weight of his words. "I suppose love is a myth after all. There is desire and lust, sure, but love? I don't think it exists," Tommy said as if he was talking to himself, his gaze lost in the fire that flickered dangerously low in the outdoor hearth. "So if you ask me, this house once belonged to a smart man," he finished off as the night had grown colder around you, and the flickering light danced across your skin, casting shadows along your collarbones and the delicate slope of your shoulders.

"Maybe you are right. Maybe it doesn't exist and yet I wonder what kind of tales this man would tell if he were to speak now? He may have found love with someone who never reciprocated it. It's possible" you murmured thoughtfully, wrapping your arms around yourself as a chill ran down your spine.

The air seemed to grow heavy in the wake of your words, and neither of you dared to speak for a few moments. An invisible thread stretched between you, a curious connection that seemed to defy all reason, but you couldn't ignore the way it made your heart race.

Thomas' gaze lingered on you for a heartbeat longer than was necessary before breaking eye contact and taking another sip of whiskey.

"Perhaps," he eventually said candidly as the air grew colder around you when a sudden breeze picked up, rustling the leaves and sending a shiver down your spine. "But love requires vulnerability and trust and a man who can afford a house like this, is neither vulnerable nor trusting," Thomas went on to explain, his words heavy with a hidden melancholy that made your heart clench. For the first time since you met him, you could sense a profound pain lingering underneath his usual charismatic and confident façade.

"Is this why you do not love Grace? Because you don't trust her?" you asked, your voice gentle and curious. The words hung in the air for a moment, a question that seemed to hover between the two of you, as though waiting for the perfect moment to be answered.

Thomas' gaze shifted towards the glass in his hand before flicking back up to meet yours. "Love is a concept I struggle to understand, and it's not something I openly welcome in my life, whether trust someone or not," he told you, avoiding answering your question before observing the way you shivered from the cold. "Come," he said, standing straight with his drink in hand and moving back towards the mansion. "Let's get you inside. You don't want to catch a cold now, do you?"

You followed him to the French doors, as you entered the grand mansion, taking one last glance at the patio with its dying fire. The stillness of the evening only heightened your senses and left you feeling strangely aware of his presence beside you.

Something about being near him stirred unspeakable emotions inside of you, feelings you couldn't justify nor understand. The strange allure of his tortured soul called out to a deep, primal part of you, begging to be explored. But you knew better than to indulge in such reckless desires.

"Tommy?" you asked, breaking the silence that had fallen between you as you walked towards the grand staircase which you knew was where you were going to part ways. "Do you think I could work for one of your businesses, just to make some money for a tutor, for my sister? She is still young and needs to be schooled," you asked, the words slipping from your lips before you could think them through.

Tommy paused, his gaze locked with yours as a battle of emotions seemed to wage behind the depths of his eyes.

"I will arrange a tutor for her tomorrow. There is no need for you to work simply so that your sister can be educated," Tommy replied sharply, breaking eye contact first as he continued to climb the grand staircase.

You lingered in the dimly lit foyer, your gaze following the broad line of his shoulders as he made his way up the stairs. There was a subtle firmness in his tone that you couldn't quite place - but it was strangely arousing all the same.

"Thank you, Tommy. I truly appreciate it," you said softly, maintaining your composure even as your thoughts tumbled recklessly. "But I would still like to work, please. It is very boring here," you pressed on, hoping to persuade him. "I could help in one of your pubs, or -"

Tommy stopped mid-step and turned to look down at you, his eyes softening ever so slightly. "We will find you something more suitable than bar work, eh? The pubs in Birmingham are not like the establishments that you are used to from New York," Tommy said with a hint of reproach in his voice.

You watched this play of emotions across his face, your thoughts momentarily thrown off kilter by the sight of his dimpled smile. That alone sparked an inexplicable warmth deep within your chest, a feeling that you quickly fought to suppress. You had no business feeling such joy in the presence of Thomas Shelby.

You knew that. You understood that. But you couldn't help yourself around him. There was an inexplicable pull, an attraction that went beyond his devilishly handsome features or his powerful presence. You found yourself entranced by his pain, his tortured spirit that was slowly unraveling before your very eyes. It was as if he wore a veil and every time he spoke, a piece of it would fade away, revealing a snapshot of his true self.

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