#but also like. for my general peace of mind. felt bad about leaving this train of thought on a downer note
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lost & found
#warrior of light#Ardbert#fanart#speedpaint#i draw sometimes#Final Fantasy XIV#i wasn't gonna do this BUT the chronology demons are very persistent#but also like. for my general peace of mind. felt bad about leaving this train of thought on a downer note#because ultimately to me it's so much more about the love and hope. the sprinkle of angst is just a flavour enhancer yknow#so a little happy ending. as a treat.
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"And there you were..."
Author's note: WITERLLY WHAT THE HECK GUYS!!! You have made my heart so full! Almost 100 notes in under 24 hoursđâ€ïž yall gon make me cry! I am truly and utterly grateful that y'all are liking it so far! I'm a little insecure with my writing, but it's only because i'm so new. I am open to any kind of advice you can give me or constructive criticism that will help make this fic better for you readers. With practice comes improvement!! Also, look i'm evolving with my tumbler knowledge and added dividers, a tag list, and a masterlist that i hope works! Look at me gođđ€§ ANYWHOOOO... are y'all ready for this one?? I fully planned on posting this next week but i'm too freaking excited! Eheheheh writing this had me giggling and kicking my feet! Enjoy my loves<3
Summary: You and Lucien decided to leave Rita's after discovering your mates kissing each other. With no reason to stay, Lucien offers you the comfort of his home and a glass of your favorite wine to help decompress the stress of both your mates. How could you say no?
This is for all my Lucien girliesâ€ïž
Warnings: usage of profanity, sexual tension growing between Lucien and y/n, some fluff bc why not, sharing a bed, potential grammar and spelling issues
Word Count: around 3,350
Chapter 2: "Scream my name..."
As you and Lucien walked out of Ritaâs, neither of you had noticed two pairs of eyes lingering watching you both leave after they heard Rhysâ commotion questioning Mor into oblivion about what the hell was going on. Mor had almost smirked at the fact that all it took was for you and Lucien to leave together to make Az and Elain both glance at yâalls receding figures. If it weren't for Rhysand in her face, she well would have. Even as Rhys is trying to get her to talk, she could not wait to tell you the plan had worked! Even if it was just a glance, it was still something! Small progress is still progress, right? Oh, she wishes she could have Feyre paint their reactions to you two leaving because it was priceless. Maybe Mor would and give it to you for solstice? But for now, she has a very upset cousin to deal with.
You and Lucien stopped at a local market to grab snacks and your favorite wine for your impromptu evening at his apartment. As you walk out of the market towards his place, Lucien canât help but to ask about Azriel.Â
âSo... The shadowsinger is your mate huh?â Lucien asks while tucking his hands in his front pockets glancing to your face as he asked you his question.Â
âYeah... When I first met Az, it was when Rhys had offered me a room to stay in for a night. Rhys and I had quite literally run into each other a moment prior. I was traveling through the night court and was so distracted by the beauty that I ended up running right into Rhysand. I had knocked his freshly bought paint that he was planning to give Feyre all over us. I felt so bad that I kept offering to pay him for the cost of the paint along with his clothes, but he kindly refused. I had no mental shields back then, so he easily saw I was a nomadic traveler that had no place to stay or wash up. He offered me a room in his home for a night and a training over mental shields as payment, and I kindly accepted. I hadn't had a nice place to stay in such a long time. But, little did I know it would not be my peace and that my mate lived in the home I was about to stay at.â you said as you walked in tandem with Lucien down the streets towards his apartment. Â
âAlways so generous that high lord. And, I assume you know who my mate is then?â Â
âThat he is. And yes, I do. If you donât mind me asking, why doesnât she want the bond?âÂ
âThe same reason your mate doesnât see yours... Sheâs too busy being enamored by him to try and pursue or explore things with me.â He finds a rock on the pavement to kick along as you two walk. Lucien kicks it towards you.Â
âAt least she knows youâre her mate.â you shrug, kick the rock back, and Lucien chuckles.Â
âYou have a point, and Azriel would know if you would just tell him.âÂ
âYeah, but would it change anything between us? Probably not. It would most likely end up like you and Elain if I told him...â Lucien stops and goes silent for a moment. âNo offense of course!âÂ
âNone taken. How did we even end up in this mess? You and I both having mates who do not reciprocate any kind of feelings toward us because they like each other is almost ironic.â He laughs at this situation you are both in.Â
âYou know now that you're saying it out loud, it is quite ridiculous.â You giggle. For a moment you had completely forgotten about Azriel and Elain. Lucien once again, being so alluring that you forgotten what you had just seen at Ritaâs. Â
Lucien glances at you and finally takes in your appearance. Your cheeks start to turn rosy at the sight of his eyes trailing over your body. Your dress still leaving little imagination for Lucien. Your body grows hot from the sudden attention.Â
âHeâs absolutely dumb as rocks for not looking at you tonight, because you look ravishing.â and gives you a playful wink.Â
âLucien you're just saying that to make me feel better.âÂ
âY/n I kid you not, I truly mean it. You are one of the most beautiful females I have ever seen!âÂ
âThank you Lucien, that means so much more to me than you will ever know,â as you look into his eyes and smile at him. He stares at you, smiles and dips his head to say you're welcome before continuing.Â
âAlmost there, it is right around this corner.âÂ
âPerfect, because I am freezing and in dire of more alcohol. I am too sober for all this emotional shit,â you say as Lucien laughs at your comment and you both turn the corner.Â
âAnd we're here! Home sweet home!âÂ
You walk into his apartment and your senses are engulfed by the smell of cinnamon sticks, crisp apples, cedarwood, and roasted chestnuts. It felt like home. Everything in his apartment felt so warm and welcoming. You sat down the groceries you had gotten on the center table near the living room couch, and slowly took in his dĂ©cor. You were surprised everything looked so coordinated. His apartment was filled with warm colors like reds, oranges, and yellows. It reminded you of your brief stay in the autumn court. You wondered if thatâs why Lucien decorated it this way. Maybe he had found a sense of belonging in those colors. While you were taking in his apartment, you hadnât noticed him grabbing you a change of clothes to wear along with a warm woolly blanket. Â
âHere, these are for you to change into, and this is for you when you get cold later because I know you,â Lucien handed you the clothes and sat the blanket down on the couch. âThe bathroom is through the hall on your left! Let me know if you need anything.âÂ
âOkay, thank you!âÂ
You started walking to the bathroom, the floor creaking beneath your feet as you opened the door. You stepped inside and quietly shut the door. You could hear Lucien in the kitchen popping the bottle of wine and pouring you both glasses, but what you forgot to realize is how you were going to take this dress off. After Morâs last minute dress change, you had to call Nuala and Cerridwen to help you into it. You had not thought about how you were going to get it off. You slightly began to panic. âItâs okay... you can do this. Itâs just a dress, can't be that hard right?â You tried to maneuver your arms into reaching the back of your dress but to no avail, Mor had to pick the most complicated thing you have ever seen. She was right though, this dress did look hot as fuck on you. You struggled a few times more before huffing and giving up. So, you had to do what you had to do... Â
âLUCIEN, I NEED HELP!â You could practically hear him sprinting down the hall to get to you in the bathroom. Without thinking he pushes the door wide open.Â
âWHAT IS IT? Are you alright?â His face scans you for any kind of injuries but finds none. The only thing he finds is you still in that damn dress that drove him crazy. âWhy are you not in the clothes I gave you?âÂ
âFirst of all, I could have been indecent. Didnât your mother ever teach you to knock! Secondly, you see, as a male you would not understand this predicament, but I cannot get my dress off by myself. I need help unfortunately... I swear this is all Morâs fault!âÂ
Cauldron boil him... âSo, you mean to tell me, you screamed my name to help you with your dress because you cannot do it yourself?âÂ
âYes...â you can hear Lucien sigh.Â
âThere are much better ways to scream my name y/n and you know that but for the sake that you are quite literally stuck in that dress, Iâll help you. Turn around.â Your face turns hot at his comment, and you swat at his arm.Â
âLUCIEN! This is not funny!â he can't help but chuckle at your flustered state.Â
âOkay, okay, you being stuck in a dress is not funny. Got it! Now stop being stubborn and turn around so I can help.âÂ
âNo, wait! You have to close your eyes!âÂ
âY/n, how am I supposed to help you with your dress if I cannot see? Besides you act like I haven't seen you naked.â Again, your face betrays you as your cheeks turn bright red at the thought. You huff.Â
âFine, okay you can keep your eyes open but no funny business Mr. Vanserra. I am watching you!â Lucien chuckles at how flustered he had made you and he is living for it. Â
You slowly turn your back to him and lock eyes with him through the bathroom mirror. Lucien takes the back of his knuckles and traces them delicately down the skin of your spine, almost like if you were made of glass and that you'd break at the slightest touch. His hand radiates so much warmth you must stop yourself from letting out a couple of sighs. The entire time he does this his eyes do not leave from yours through the mirror. His hand finally reaches the back of your dress, and he looks away to start undoing the claps. Thank the mother because his stare was driving you crazy. Each clasp he undoes, he makes sure to take his sweet time on. He doesn't miss the way your skin crawls with goosebumps at the slightest touch of his hands against your back. Gods, you had missed his fiery touch. It had felt like forever since he last touched you.
You slowly felt the dress getting heavier with each clasp undone. You could tell Lucien was near the end when your dress had almost slipped off your chest threatening to expose your naked breasts to him. Luckily, Lucien was too preoccupied to have noticed you trying to regather it back up for coverage. You couldnât help but to selfishly think about turning around to look at him as your dress falls to the floor. Heat slowly began to warm your lower abdomen. You had to clench your thighs together in hope of Lucien not catching your growing scent of arousal. What would Lucien do to you if you did that? Would he pin you against the sink and truly make you scream his name? Gods you wished. Just then you caught a whiff of your scent. Damn your mind and body for betraying you! You were so worried about Lucien this whole time, when you should've been worrying about yourself. However, you decide that this is probably not the time to be thinking about such lewd things after what happened with Az.
As he was on the last clasp, Lucien couldnât help catching your lingering scent in the air. You were going to be the death of him. He kisses the newly exposed skin of your back as his scent starts to slightly change and mix in with yours. Your head fell back as your eyes closed in anticipation. His eyes had wandered back to the mirror to see your eyes shut reeling in his touch as he peppered kisses up and down your spine. He marveled at this moment for a brief second before unclasping the last clasp of your dress. Your eyes met his as the last clasp was undone, and you let your dress pool to the floor as a test of restraint. For you or him, you didnât know which. He held you gaze for a moment, never looking away from your eyes, before ghosting his lips on the nape of your neck.Â
âAll done...â he whispered as he slowly turned around, shut the door, and walked away back to the kitchen. Cruel wicked male.
You let out a breath you didnât know you were holding and tried to recompose yourself. Gods would drinking more wine be safe anymore after what just happened? You sighed and you picked your dress up off the floor and folded it as nicely as you could. You grabbed the clothes Lucien had given you to change into and started putting them on. Immediately you are swallowed by the musk of Lucien's clothes. It is almost overwhelming if it werenât for the fact that you loved the smell of the autumn court male.
You laughed at yourself in the mirror as you looked and saw his t hanging so loose on you, it was practically a dress. But let's be honest, you loved it. You slowly opened the bathroom door and made your way out with your former dress folded nicely in your hands. You sat your dress down on the table and turned towards Lucien with a smile.Â
âSo... how do I look?â and give him a twirl. Lucien looks at you and smiles. Gods, you looked even better in his clothes than in that dress but he wasnât about to give in that easily.Â
âLike a little boy.â Lucien said with a playful gleam in his eyes.Â
âYOU TAKE THAT BACK RIGHT NOW!â as you shake a finger at his face. He laughs.Â
âFine... You look like a very cute little boy!â he says grinning from ear to ear loving the effects his teasing was having on you tonight. You instead stick out your tongue and give him that all too well known finger gesture. He is practically hurled over in laughter, but you just huff and plop yourself on his couch. Â
âBe useful and get this âcute little boyâ more wine! I'm definitely too sober now.â He laughs again and it warms your chest. You cant help but to grin back.
âAre you sure you can drink wine? You look a little young to be drinking such adult drinksâ as he grabs the wine glasses along with the bottle for refills later. Â
âLUCIEN, I WILL STRANGLE YOU IF I HEAR ONE MORE LITTLE BOY JOKE!âÂ
âOkay, okay. Hereâs your wine doll.â He hands you your glass with a smile, âYou actually look even more beautiful now that youâre in my clothes.â As he sends you a wink before sipping some of his wine.Â
âThank you...â you smile as you take a sip from your own glass.Â
âSo, other than your mate being an enigma to you, what else has happened since I saw you last?â you both get comfy on the couch and sip on your wine.Â
You had failed to realize how long you and Lucien were apart. You told him about your travels through all the different courts, and he told you about his part in the war along with how he became a part of the night court. You both sat there and exchanged every story you could possibly think of, trying to catch up on every moment you missed together. Soon the stories turn into giggling. Neither of you could hold it together as one of you would say something slurred and the other could cry out in laughter. It was the wine-speaking now, but neither of you had minded. You both had forgotten what it was like to be in each other's presence. It was nice to rekindle old flames with your friend, but you had to be careful. Recatching old feelings would not be good for you with this whole Azriel situation. You looked out the corner of your eye to see Lucien trying to fight off a yawn. Â
âOh, don't tell me my lil fox boy has grown tired of me?â as you slightly pinch his cheeks. He grins as he sees you also fighting off your own tiredness.Â
âMmmm seems like my yawns are contagious then, because I couldâve sworn I saw you do one just now.â he raises an eyebrow at you.Â
âOkay, maybe I did. All this catching up and wine drinking has made me sleepy.â You decide to grab the blanket Lucien sat on the couch for you earlier this evening. Â
âI donât blame you... Now if you excuse me, I am going to go change into something more comfortable, these clothes are killing me, and then we will call it a night.â he says as he sticks a finger in his collared shirt to loosen the neck and walks off still in the clothes he wore at Ritaâs. You chuckle at his figure walking down the hallway to what you would assume to be his room. You donât know how long he was in there, but you couldnât wait any longer. Your eyes were too heavy, and you were too drunk to stop your movements down the hallway towards where Lucien disappeared. You find the door he dipped into and see it is cracked a smidge. You decide to knock, unlike Lucien earlier. Â
âHey Lu? Can I come in?â No answer. âLucien Iâm really tired and I donât know where you want me to sleep...â you slowly push the door open but put too much weight on it and tumble forward into his room. Unlike your knocking, Lucien heard you tumble and was at your side to catch you in a heartbeat. You let out a laugh. âOh, I'm too drunk for this shit... I'm sorry, I only came here too-â you look up to see him in gray sweat pants, hair loose, and no shirt. Mother blessed this man too much! Oh fuck. Get me out of here. Â
âY/n, you were saying something?â He looks down at you with mischief in his eyes knowing you couldnât keep yours off his bare chest and gray sweatpants. Your eyes blink rapidly, and you shake your head trying to get that image out your mind but its seared its way in.
âOh yes. I was just- um, why did I- OH! Where do you want me to sleep? Iâm like minutes away from passing out on the damn floor!â Lucien laughs.Â
âYou can sleep in here, and I can stay on the couch for tonight. Is that alright?âÂ
âThis is your bed and home Lucien. I can't let you sleep on the couch as I take your bed... it just feels wrong. I'll take the couch and you can keep your bed for tonight.â you say as you turn around to head back into the living room before you feel Lucien's hand around your waist stopping you. Â
âY/n I swear to the mother, do not be stubborn and take the damn bed please. Itâs too late for this, I promise you itâs okay! I insist.âÂ
âI guess old habits never die. Always trying to get me in your bed Lu.â you smirk as you crawl in and wrap up in his silk auburn sheets. You thought his house and clothes smelled nice, but his sheets, his sheets were heavenly. You almost fell asleep then and there because it was so calming. Lucien walks over to you and kisses you on the forehead.Â
âGoodnight doll, I am truly sorry for your mates behavior tonight. Sleep well...â He turns around, turns out the lights, and is about to walk out the door but hesitates as he hears you say--Â
âLucien wait-âÂ
âYes?âÂ
âWeâre both adults here, right?â Â
âWell one of us looks like a little boy, but yes. Why?â Lucien replied. You rolled your eyes at his playful remark from earlier.Â
âAdults can share a bed, and nothing has to happen.âÂ
âY/n are you saying you want me to sleep next to you?âÂ
âYes, I am. I donât want to sleep alone tonight.â you sigh.Â
âAlways so persuasive... scoot over.â You open the sheets and scoot over in the bed to make room for Lucien. You feel the bed dip down as he crawls in. You both lay there for a moment reeling in that you two are sharing a bed again. The only difference is now the lingering heartbreak you both feel from your mates. You turn around to face Lucien and ask-Â
âCan I lay on your chest?â He doesnât verbally respond but wraps his hands around your waist and softly pulls you closer to him. You lay your head on his chest, listening to his heart beat, and look up at his face. You tuck a couple of stray hairs that had fallen in his face and tuck them behind his ears and say, âThank you for tonight, Lucien. Elain is so lucky to have you, she just doesnât know it yet.âÂ
âThank you doll, neither does Azriel. Now let's get some much needed rest. Goodnight,â said Lucien.Â
âGoodnight Lu,â as you rest your hand on his bare chest next to your head and you feel Lucien's arms tighten around you. You can't help but to feel so at peace in his presence, and neither can he, as you both fell asleep holding each other all night. Â
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#lucien vanserra#lucien x reader#mor acotar#feyre acotar#rhys acotar#nesta archeron#cassian#azriel#elain archeron#acotar x reader#acotar#one bed trope
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I'm Already There Pt. 1
Summary: Nick is off to the Naval Academy leaving his new fiancée at home. Carole has a wedding to plan and life plans to figure out.
Pairings: Nick Bradshaw x Carole Bradshaw, Carole Bradshaw x Daughter!reader, Nick Bradshaw x Daughter!reader, Bradley Bradshaw x Sister!reader
Warnings: fluff, inaccurate military talk
Masterlist
I'm Already There
June 21, 1980, came sooner than anyone hoped for. Nick was excited to go but felt bad about leaving his fiancée to plan the wedding alone and just in general. They told everyone about the engagement when they came back from their date on the beach. Everyone was supportive and both Carole's and Nick's mom said they would help plan the wedding.
Carloe went with them to drop Nick off at the Naval Academy, which was a little heartbreaking for every one that went. Carloe immediately started to plan the wedding, already having the details in mind, while going to drop Nick off. Carole's mom, Liza, and Nick's mom, Samantha, already agreed to help.
Once a very tearful goodbye and promising to keep in touch when he could, Nick was heading to basic training. While Carole went back to their hometown. She already missed him.
Everything was running smoothly as it could without Carole's other half not being there. Samantha has been a huge help with details that needed her son's advice. They had the venue, color, cake, dresses, suits, and decorations picked out. Now all they needed was Nick and a date. They wanted to get married as soon as possible.
On August 2, 1980, Nick was out of basic training and was allowed to talk to family members. The first person he called was Carole and they talked the entire time he was allowed. They talked and they finally settled on a date. He would be home for Thanksgiving and they figured the day before Thanksgiving would be perfect and the best time for them to do so.
Thanksgiving was coming up and nothing could stand in the way of their love. They talked whenever Nick was allowed to and Carole went down there every other weekend. They talked nonsense, about the wedding, about the kids that they were going to have. Everything was perfect until it wasn't.
Thanksgiving weekend rolled around and everything came in full force. Nick and Carole were running one way while the parents were running the other trying to get everything set for the day after. Thankfully the wedding was gonna be a small one and not too many people were coming which meant that some good country cooking was happening.
Friday- November 21, 1980 (1 day before the wedding)
When Carole and her father-in-law went to get the cake in the early morning the bakery said that they had lost the order. Carole was furious and so was the father-in-law. Everything was falling apart and fast.
"What do you mean you lost the order?" A frantic Carole asked, stress shooting through the roof.
"I'm sorry ma'am, we didn't mean to. We've been busy trying to fill other orders and somehow yours got misplaced." The bakery owner explained as calmly as she could knowing yelling and getting mad wouldn't help the situation.
"My wedding is tomorrow. Is there anything you can do?" Carole asked, trying to keep the peace. The baker sighed trying to think of a solution.
"I can get the cake ready in an hour. I'll also throw in a discount for the trouble." The baker said.
"Thank you. The discount isn't necessary though." Carole said not wanting to impose.
"Nonsense! It was our mistake. I'm just glad we don't have problems between us." The baker said thankfully she wasn't like normal brides that come in. They both left and returned an hour later with a perfect cake made for their special day.
They arrived back at the venue which was a nice country bed and breakfast with a beautiful backyard. It had a nice little lake behind it and a beautiful view of the sunset. The other family members were hard at work setting up lights and flowers and chairs. Carole just stood back and admired everything, she was so out of it that she didn't even notice Nick come up behind her, wrapped his arms around her, and lie his head on her shoulder. She leaned into him and put her hands on his.
"I can't wait to call you my wife." Nick said followed by a kiss to the back of her head. Carole smiled.
"I can't wait to call you my husband." She replied and turned to kiss him on the lips.
Everything was starting to become perfect again.
Saturday- November 22, 1980 (Wedding day)
This was it. The big day. Nerves were starting to pop up but nobody was getting cold feet, they both wanted this and it was their dream. They weren't allowed to see each other until their first look and honestly, it was killing them both not being in each other's presence.
The wedding was going to be at 6:30 PM, the perfect time to take pictures. An hour before is when they decided to start getting things into motion. Nick went down to the lake with the photographer and waited for his perfect match. Finally it was time for their first look. Carole walks down to him with the help of her mom carrying her dress. She reached her soon to be husband and mother-in-law.
"Nick, you can turn around now." Liza, Carole's mom said with a smile on her face. He turned around and a huge smile came onto his face and hers.
"You are absolutely beautiful." Nick said while taking a step towards her and taking her face in his hands and kissed her. Carole giggled and leaned into his kiss and then broke apart.
"You look handsome." She said quietly only for him to hear. He never stopped smiling. They both were crying by now.
The photographer took pictures of them, groomsmen, bridesmaids, them with groomsmen and bridesmaids along with the mothers and fathers. Everything was flying by quickly and then it was time for the wedding to start.
They both went inside and waited for people to take seats. The music started and Nick along with his groomsmen walked down the aisle first. The music changed and the bridesmaids in their Navy blue dresses walked down. Then finally Carole in her beautiful white dress started down the aisle with her father while everyone stood. She reached the front and Nick shook her father's hand and handed her off to him.
"Everyone please be seated." The minister said and everyone sat down. "Good evening. We gather here today to witness and celebrate an act of deep love. âCarole and Nickâ, in their devotion, respect, and love for each other, wish to unite in the holy bond of marriage, and to dedicate themselves to each other's happiness and wellâbeing as life mates and partners. On behalf of them, I welcome you all." The minister added. "Nick and Carole have decided to trade vows as a sign of their love. May I have the ring?" The best man gave him the ring. "Nick, you may start."Â
"From the moment I met you in our sophomore homeroom, I knew you were the one for me. You were and still are the most beautiful woman I've set my eyes on. Nothing could stand in my way of starting a life with you and the kids that we'll raise together. I'll always love you, even if you did turn me down 2 times before saying yes, in sickness and health for richer and poorer to death do us part." Nick finished.
"Do you Nicholas Bradshaw take Carole to be your lawfully wedded wife?" The minister asked.
"I do." Nick said as he placed the ring on Carole's finger.
"Carole you may say your vows." The minister said and received the ring for Nick.
"Nick from the start you've always been a true gentleman since we were friends and been together. I love your goofy personality. I fell in love with you from the moment I met you and to this day and always will love you. I can't wait to grow old and raise children with you. Nothing could stand in the way of my true love for you. I too vow to always love you in sickness and health for richer and poorer to death do us part." Carole said with tears forming in her eyes, well everyone's eyes.
"Do you Carole take Nick to be your lawfully wedded husband?" The minister asked her.
"I do." She said with a grin on her face and as she slid the ring on his finger.
"By the power vested in me the State of Virgina, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Nick, you may kiss your bride." The minister said and that's exactly what Nick did. He grabbed her gently and kissed her like there was no tomorrow well until they both ran out of air.
They both pulled back and turned to face their loved ones and everyone clapped and hollered. They walked down the aisle hand in hand and when they got to the end the bridesmaids and groomsmen walked down next. They took a few more pictures with their family and headed to the reception.
When they arrived at their reception everyone cheered when they walked through the door. They said their speeches and they started the line to eat. Once everyone had their fill the dancing started. They had their first dance and after that was over everyone was allowed to get up and dance. Overall it was a fun reception and lasted well into the night. Once it was over the newlyweds went to the little cabin on the property and everyone else retired to their rooms.
Sunday- November 23, 1980 (Thanksgiving)
Thanksgiving was the next day and everyone showed up at Carole's house. The food was cooking and would be ready around lunch time. Kids were in the pool while their parents were all sitting around talking and having fun waiting on the food. Nick and Carole got there last not wanting to leave the little cabin at the venue.
They both arrived at the little cozy house and were greeted by everyone. They asked them what their plans were and if they thought about starting a family, in which they answered truthfully. The food was ready to eat shortly after and the turkey was carved, blessings were said and everyone dug in.
Their first holiday as a married couple was perfect! They wouldn't trade it for anything. A few days later they had to say goodbye to Nick as he had to go back to the Naval Academy. Another tearful goodbye had to be made but instead of leaving his fiancée, he was leaving his wife.
Honeymoon- September 20-27, 1983
Nick and Carole had decided to take a honeymoon before he had to go back to the Academy. He had one year left of the Naval Academy. They decided to go to a cute cozy little cottage by the lake near Virginia and Maryland located in Washington. Since Nick excelled in all of his classes they were letting him take 7 days for his honeymoon.
When they got to Washington everything was perfect. It was a beautiful site to see and nobody bothered them, it was a nice secluded area that housed a cabin and a lake right out the backyard and the closest neighbor was 2 miles away.
They didn't do much on the honeymoon; they just enjoyed being together and drinking some wine. They sat around the bonfire in each other's arms and sometimes ended up falling asleep. Nothing could ruin that moment. They talked about anything and nothing.
The last night of their honeymoon was sweet and sensational. They spent it together in bed, well they did every chance they got but this was more personal. The next morning, the last day of their honeymoon, she was late and she was never late. She voiced her concern to Nick and they went to get a pregnancy test. They waited the right amount of time and when the timer went off they looked at it, and both broke out in smiles. Carole was pleased to announce it to her husband.
"I'm pregnant."
#I'm Already There#daughter reader top gun#daughter!reader top gun#top gun fanfiction#bradley bradshaw x sister!reader#carole bradshaw x daughter!reader#nick bradshaw x daughter!reader#top gun imagine#top gun x reader
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hey op! i saw the ask that recommended the okiro video and i decided to give it a go. i believe that tlj's approach on luke felt like something that could happen to him and i agree that the usual takes about it have anti-jedi sentiments. but after watching this 20 min video i'm starting to feel the opposite. okiro was right to say that there was no precedence to luke's actions leading up to tlj. his defence didn't have any anti-jedi sentiments i could identify and he made the case that killing off luke in the end was part of a long line of skywalkers dying instead of doing the work to redeem themselves. a part of me wishes luke didn't die so he could pick up where he left off with rey so he and leia could train her.
Oh, that's good to hear! I will reconsider putting it on to listen to and bless you for taking the hit so I didn't have to first. XD I'm kind of on the fence--I don't mind TLJ criticism, it's my least favorite of the movies as well, but part of me is also like, "Well, I have made peace with the movie as best as I'm ever going to, would I actually be happier if someone convinced me that the storyline I kinda sorta liked okay-ish was actually even worse than I originally felt?" I do agree that I wish Luke had lived, even if I have to remember that this is not the original trio's movies, these are Rey and Finn and Poe and Ben's movies, they are the central stars, even if Luke and Leia and Han loom so much larger as characters in our minds. And, in general, I don't mind that the Skywalkers died--all my faves in Star Wars die, it's part of the entry fee imo--because I don't think blood family is all that important, I'm a fan of the Jedi characters, who leave a legacy without blood family either, you know? But it's great to hear that it's not about anti-Jedi sentiments, and if others want to give it a listen and get some schadenfreude out of TLJ criticism, anon says it's safe to do so on that front! Broken heroes aren't the problem - It's Just bad Writing
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Lance Sweets (Bones) - Extra
True to his word, Sweets had taken a month to really grasp the ordeal he had been through.
 During that time youâd become his regular visitor. You brought some of your favorite candy on the first day as a peace offering.
âI didnât realize you were that into candy.â He spoke.
You just nodded, nibbling on the gummy bears.
âI love Sweets.â
For a moment he paused, because you were still actively eating your treat. You seemed to pay no mind to what youâd just said. He knew it wasnât a flirtation. But the statement did cause a smile to work its way on his face.
The days felt less like a battle when he wasnât flinching at every unexpected noise or eyeing every tinted car that happened to drive in his general vicinity. The second week of his temporary sabbatical, you suggested a training exercise.
âA shooting range?â
âYes. I think even psychologists should know how to shoot. Next week weâre going to do some basic combat training.â
âWhy is my leave starting to feel like a boot camp?â
âBecause it is. Did you think I would just let you sit around here and watch television.â
âThat was the expectation.â
You just wore a blank look and Sweets could only release a sigh of defeat. Itâs clear that you were unmoving about the topic. So he got ready and headed to the closest shooting range. He wasnât really surprised to see the spaces filled with people. This activity was a stress reliever for most.
You helped him get set up, and when he was holding the gun and aiming to shoot, you stepped forward, directly behind him as you made adjustments to his form. He swallowed, more than a little conscious of your hands over his arms, or your front shamelessly pressed to his back.
âDonât be so stiff. Focus on the target and your body. You want your stance to be strong so the kickback wonât throw you off the first time.â
He hadnât exactly shot a whole lot of guns in his life, so you understood.
âThatâs better.â
You seemed pleased with the adjusted position, and Sweets cleared his throat. With his eyes fixed on the target, he shot three rounds. It was impressive. He didnât flinch. While he had missed the center target, heâd gotten it fairly close for someone who had next to no experience. Placing the gun down, he slid his ear protectors off.
âThatâs not too bad, right?â
He seemed proud of himself and you were too. The general idea wasnât specifically for him to make each shot. The real test you presented was just for him to get through the door. When you were taken, your captor had sent off multiple shots to intimidate Sweets. He jolted for each one. As any normal person would. After that heâd also become more weary of loud noises. Yet he walked into the building completely neutral. No signs of distress or fear. You realized that at that point he must have finally begun to accept his situation and try to deal with it in his own way.
âThat was great.â
His smile was wide, and you took his spot, lifting the gun as you fired off the rest of the clip. Each shot landed perfectly.
âStill not as good as me though.â
âCome on, that's cheating!!â
It was amusing.
You did all you could to encourage him in any way possible. Slowly but surely, he was getting back to his usual over analyzing self. Like today when you both were trying to watch a lifetime movie and he kept explaining the behavior of the stalker.
âItâs no wonder he grew so attached. He was abandoned as an infant. He was unable to form proper bonds so the ones he did obtain were in his mind a..â
He kept rambling on and for a moment you just looked at him. Youâve always been fairly friendly with Sweets. At heart you were protective of all your friends. Yet, youâd never truly been in a setting where it was just the both of you. At least not this frequently. There were certain features that you recently became aware of.
Like his lean stature when you both did that practice combat training. The surprising amount of muscle for someone who isnât really as physically active in his chosen profession. Maybe the pinkness of his lips that distract you sometimes. As someone with the quirks you have, there are times you tend to become a bit hyper fixated on certain things. Maybe thatâs why you moved closer.
âSweets your lips are a nice shade of pink.â
Any regular person would be way too embarrassed to state such a fact. His ramblings stopped almost immediately and when he turned to you, there was color that was now littered on his cheeks.
âUmm..thank you..â
âWhy are you turning red? Are you okay?â
You leaned in to inspect his face and the color seemed to increase.
âWe need to call Dr. Brennan, I think there might be something wrong with you.â
You slide your phone out of your pocket, ready to dial her up and Sweets just shook his head, lowering your hand.
âIâm fine.â
âAre you sure?â
âYes.â
He was still relatively red, but he wasnât showing any issues breathing, and he didnât appear to be in pain.
âWhy did your face turn red?â
Sweets couldnât help but chuckle.
âYou gave me an unexpected compliment. Blushing isnât exactly voluntary.â
âBlushing? You mean that actually happens. I thought that was just an expression people used.â
He was still smiling.
âIâm assuming the expression came from the physical reaction we have when weâre bashful.â
âThat does make more sense.â
You were still eyeing him carefully.
âYouâre cute when you blush.â
Sweets laughed, placing a hand over his face. Itâs clear that you understand very little of what youâre doing.
He realized through all those days that the care you showed really did help him through it all. There wasnât much he could truly say to express his gratitude. When the day came for him to return to work, you sent him an encouraging text and offered to stop by and bring him some lunch.
Currently, you were in the Jeffersonian chatting with your colleagues. Everyone was discussing Sweets return. Clearly very much excited and relieved.
âI bet you he missed us.â Booth boasted. Camile laughs.
âMore like you missed him.â She poked.
Of course he would never admit that.
âWhat about you (Y/N), you missed the guy?â Hodgins asks with a playful grin.
âNo.â
Your blank reply caught everyoneâs attention.
âReally, not even a little?â Angela pressed.
âWhy would I miss him when I saw him everyday?â
Now they seem invested.
âSo you visited him everyday on his leave?â Angela asks.
âI did.â
Smiles are exchanged around the room.
âDoes that have some kind of significance?â Brennan inquires.
âOf course not Bones, none at all.â Booth says, wiggling his eyebrows.
âWhy are you making that face?â You question.
âNo reason.â
Heâs still doing that weird thing with his face and you just walk away. Angela and Camile laugh.
âItâll take her years to figure it all out.â
You didnât pay much mind to that. When you finally made it to Sweetsâs office, he was grinning, staring at the food.
âThanks for lunch.â
You nod, heading to his desk to begin to lay everything out.
Sweets just watched you from his spot.
Obviously a lot had changed over a period of a month. While he knew you were fairly oblivious, he knew to some extent that you understood how attraction worked. So all he had to do was be extremely clear when he finally decided to admit his own.
âI appreciate everything that you did while I was out. You didnât have to keep checking in on me.â
âI know. I was making sure your recovery was going smoothly.â
Sweets chuckles under his breath, running a hand over his tie as you both stand in his office. He expects a straightforward reply.
âOf course.â
Seeing him look so at ease, it was quite literally a gift. When you stopped by to drop him lunch, it was just a check to ensure he was settled back into the office. He looks calm. Itâs assuring. Placing the last box down on his desk, you finally turn to face him.
âThatâŠthat wasnât the only reason I stopped by often.â
Full transparency might be the way to go.
Now that your back isnât hiding your expressions, he sees the way you appear nervous.
âYour safety, it means a lot to me. Possibly slightly more than any of the other members of this team.â
It took a lot to admit that, and you expect him to do some deep analysis on why that is. Yet when you finally will yourself to fully look at him, the care of his gaze provides warmth.
âI have to admit I hoped there was an ulterior motive.â
He moves closer, and you subconsciously freeze up. This situation isnât very common for you.
âAre you uncomfortable?â
Heâs so close.
Around anyone else you would retract, or maybe physically move them. The last thing you feel is discomfort.
âNo..â
He wears a smile.
âThatâs good.â
You swallow, because the slow approach is driving you crazy. You reach for him, grabbing the front of his suit as you pull him in. A startled sound escapes him right before his lips press so desperately against yours. The unplanned actions have caused him to tumble back onto the couch.
Thereâs nothing but a groan in response before you both seem to just fall back into rhythm with the kiss. His hands reach down to grab your thighs as he pulls you further on top of him. Your grip on his clothing has loosened significantly, because you're enjoying the feel of muscle under his suit. You hum in appreciation.
Sweets is more than willing to accommodate your eagerness. Your hands feel like they are mapping everywhere. His own fingers grab a hand full of your ass. The action makes you grind into him. He lets out a deep guttural sound and youâre a bit taken aback when he straightens, taking you with him. Youâre upright for maybe a few seconds, but then your back meets the cushions of the couch.
Heâd switched positions.
Youâre still very much breathless and the adjusted positions do not help.
âDr..Dr. Sweets we shouldâŠâ
He smirks and you swallow at the mischievous glint in his eyes. He pins your hands softly above your head and your eyes widen slightly.
âIt isnât a good idea for us to continue this here.â
You mean to question why. The last thing you want to do is to stop making out. Especially since youâve just recently realized the appeal. His hips press to your own and you jolt at the stiffness in his pants.
âDo you understand?â
You nod, licking your lips.
âTake me back to your house.â
Itâs a demand and he canât help but laugh. Itâs clear that your straightforward personality would forever be his biggest amusement.
âI suppose I can add another day to my leave.â
You support that decision completely.Â
#lancesweets#bones 2005#angela montenegro#jack hodgins#camille saroyan#seeley booth#temperance brennan#fluff#fear#feelings#cute#humor#trust#sweetsxreader#family#love#care
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Dream journal 4/24
Dreamed a star wars AU where Order 66 didn't happen the same way. Anakin didn't fall, and he didn't really have a relationship with Palpatine at all. He was still the chosen one and all that but he wasn't part of the sith plot at all. The Clone Wars happen but when Order 66 takes place there's a mass assassination of the generals in the field who are doing combat operations, but the rest of the Jedi "surrender peacefully". Both Anakin and Obi-wan attacked Grievous and killed him in like, a minute and a half, but then were politely arrested by the clones when they returned to the shuttle.
Yoda and Mace and the surviving counsel members have had their connection to the Force so fogged by the Sith magic that they're not sure WHAT happened with the Jedi who supposedly "betrayed the Republic". All remaining Jedi are escorted back to Coruscant and barred from leaving the planet until the trials of the Seperatist high command are concluded. At which point their intel and testimony will be used to uncover the specifics of the "Jedi Treason". The dream starts several days into this "parole" period where public opinion has turned against the Jedi. The temple has a clone garrison monitoring their comings and goings, but the surviving Jedi are still allowed to move about the planet (and aren't, you know, being gunned down on sight).
That's just the AU. My actual dream is under the cut, but the important bit was how weird a "soft" Order 66 would be. This dream felt like I was watching an episode of the Clone Wars. The POV moved like a camera and not like I was physically there. Everyone was animated in the same style and voiced by the Clone Wars cast. It was also very coherent for a dream. No weird nonsensical transitions or people vanishing. that's one of the reasons it felt worth journaling!
It's almost sundown and we see Obi and Anakin and a third Jedi (a woman that is either Depa or Ahsoka, the dream didn't tell me if Ahsoka left the order in this AU) on a grav train. They are escorting a class of younglings on some kind of field trip outside the temple. Obi-wan is in one car and Depa is with Anakin in the other car. (Their kids ran in opposite directions when they boarded the train).
A new Jedi boards the train at a stop and as the train moves he walks up to obi-wan. The first suspicious thing is that Obi-wan doesn't recognize him. the second suspicious thing is that when he comes close enough to get a good look he turns out to be a Jedi version of Doctor Hemlock from Bad Batch. He has the same slimy, gentle voice.
Jedi Hemlock explains that since the war is over the Jedi have no rank in the GAR. Instead, all Jedi who served with clone troopers have to wear a little pin at all times. So that even if they change in to civilian clothes people will still be sure to treat them accordingly. It is literally the same pin that the ex-Imperials in the amnesty program had to wear on The Mandalorian, but it has a little gold shape around it. He talks about how the Jedi all need to cooperate with these new procedures to maintain the peace and not harm the Treason case against the Order.
In the next train car, Anakin watches him suspiciciously as he gives Depa bilaba her pin. Hemlock greets Anakin by name and provides him with a special pin, one that signifies his great accomplishments (he still defeats Dooku and rescues the Chancelor in the AU.). The pin is the same shape as the others, but it has a dangly gem piece on each side. (because of COURSE Anakin is special)
Hemlock gets off the train at the next stop as do all but a couple of passengers. Anakin and Obi-wan both sense that something is up as the train slows down before it reaches the station, making sure that the sun has fully set on this part of Coruscant by the time they pull into the station. They begin gathering the younglings close and giving them instructions on how to calm their mind and focus so that they can keep up with the group and not get separated. Each of them gives a slightly different piece of advice.
It's a good bit of comedy in the comparison. Anakin's advice is basically a repeat of things Obi-wan said to him in the past. Obi-wan's advice is a list of things to avoid doing (which are all things we've seen Anakin do before). Depa is just sort of "with Anakin" all through the next part but we do see her tell her younglings to trust in the Force and keep their senses open to the world around them but not let the world overwhelm them.
When the train pulls in, the remaining half dozen passengers all push their way to the doors between Anakin and Obi-wan and make for the stairs leading down from the center of the platform. to get off the train in time, Anakin and Depa have to go left and Obi-wan has to go right. Just as the train doors begin to close snipers fire on the Anakin and Depa! The two groups begin running along the skyways in opposite directions.
Due to the noise of the grav train leaving the station, Obi-wan's group didn't hear the blaster bolts (they were already moving away so they didn't see them either). Obi-wan adds another item to the list of rules, telling the younglings to be safe around the force fields and never to walk on them because they could be deactived by an enemy. The younglings voice agreement as they scamper along beside him. One of them, an Iktuchiboy says "Yes Master but what enemy?" right before blaster bolts rain down between them.
Both groups are running and Obi-wan and are yelling into their comlinks about where to go to protect the younglings. They agree to leave the square and head for a commerce zone where there's more cover, but they've gotten so separated that they're on two different levels and about a thousand feet apart!
The Jedi deflect bolts with their lightsabers to protect themselves and the younglings as they try to regroup and exit the wide open set of skyways in this neighborhood. Naturally, Obi-wan has to instruct his kids to ignore his last rule and leap onto the canopy force-field of the nearby stair case to cut across and rejoin the other group.
The dream ends with a wide shot of Anakin running on a long skybridge over traffic with Obi-wan on the holo-gradient force-field serving as the skybridge's roof. The younglings trailing behind each of them and Depa keeping pace in the rear, spinning gracefully to deflect the occasional blaster bolt.
#star wars#the clone wars#dream journal#Anakin Skywalker#Obi-wan kenobi#depa bilaba#youngling field trip!#Star Wars AU
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afterglow
din djarin x female!jedi!reader
part two to daylight
summary: din is eager to surprise you, but your reunion doesnât go quite as planned. though, neither of you are complaining.
a/n: itâs finally here, guys. usually, I donât take this long with two-parters, but this is the first fic Iâve written with full-on smut so Iâm hella nervous about this, also reader has female body parts (I tried to make the last part of the fic gender-neutral, but this part is not). hopefully, this one is likeâŠnot bad? but if it sucks, I apologize in advance. also, this has tbobf spoilers.
warnings: shitty bar patrons, reader and dinâs reunion is very rocky at first, lotta fluff, major smut, +18 content, oral sex (f receiving), itâs hella passionateâeven the consent scene, cause consent is sexy, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)
word count: 6k
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đȘ
âYou owe me thirty credits, Tamet.â
âThirty credits?!â Tamet, the new guy whoâs begun to frequent your cantina over the past couple of days, is furious as he slams down his pitcher.
The amber-colored liquid jostles out of the cup and splashes in a small pool of booze on the counter. You grimace. âYou run a damn expensive cantina, lady. Charginâ me thirty credits for a thing of ale.â
âTwo days worth,â you interject. âYouâve had an open tab for two nights in a row. If anything, Iâm being generousââ
Before you can finish your sentence, youâre covered in alcohol. Tamet holds the pitcher in mid-air as he white-knuckles its handle, even after having thrown the drink at you. Your senses rage at the environment around you. The cantina became painstakingly silent, the only noise being the loud pounding of Tametâs pulse in your ears and the slow drip of beads of alcohol running down the slope of your face.
Heat bristles in your fingertips as you watch an angry red flush creep up his neck. His face is turned down in a scowl, eyes trained on you.
You almost cry. You consider picking up the pitcher and throwing it back at him hard enough to knock him out. Surely, youâd scare him offâsince an object moving on its own would scare anyone, but you feel you lack even the energy for that. Your bones ache with tiredness, and your mind reeks of pent-up stress from the past couple of weeks.
This just happened to be the straw that broke the Banthaâs back.
You ignore him with a dejected sigh, desperately trying to push back the tears that prickle at the corners of your eyes, as you round the corner to get a cloth. You just wanted to clean up the mess, close the cantina and have a shower. You could honestly care less about the credits. You just want him to leave.
You never had the patience for patrons like this. So much so, it was an unwritten rule in your bar that whoever showed up would be civil for the sake of the woman who wouldnât think twice about throwing them out. It went on like that for years. Calm. Enjoyable. Peaceful.
But Tamet was an outsider; a passerby who was making a pit stop and felt the need to establish his dominance over the lonely cantina owner in front of the onlooking crowd.
If only he knew that if you really wanted, you could break every bone in his body with just a crack of your neck.
The thought was tempting.
But then a loud roar of the crowd and a loud crashing sound resounds throughout the room. You abandon the cloth and walk out of the makeshift kitchen (that really only holds the booze and is good for literally nothing else) only to be met with the most ridiculous sight.
Tamet is on his back on the countertop flailing about, incoherently mumbling âsorryâsâ, and âplease, let me goâsâ. Your jaw falls at the sight of him, but itâs when your eyes trail up to the man holding him that your breath is robbed from your lungs.
Mando, your Mando, stands over him, gloved hand pressed deep into Tametâs chest as he holds his head just a few mere inches above his face. The dim lights reflect off of the shadows of his beskar and somehow that makes him look appear even more massive. Heâs menacingâŠscary, even. A sight that youâre convinced if you hadnât seen his signet, you would mistake him for someone else. Because youâve never seen him like this before.
âPleaseâŠâ Tamet chokes out, fear racking his voice. âPlease, Iâll do anything. Please, just let me go.â
âFirst, apologize.â Mando growls lowly.
ââŠWh-what?â
Mandoâs gloved hand moves up his body until it nears the base of Tametâs neck, fingers flexing into the flesh as the Klatooinian gulps.
âI want you to apologize to the lady, give her the credits and go on your way. Never show your face here, again. Do you understand?â
Tamet nods aggressively, eyes widening as Mando raises his hand slowly. He then begins to scramble off the counter, voice croaking with frantic âIâm sorryâsâ. His hands and arms shake vigorously as he throws more than the owed credits on the counter before high-tailing it out of the cantina. He trips up the steps out the door and within seconds heâs gone from your sight.
Your breathing stutters with shock.
The whole cantina is on edge, unsure of whether or not to look at you, the scene itself, or the mysterious Mandalorian (who conveniently, has already chosen that heâs going to look at you). A nervous lump of laughter gets stuck in your throat at how quickly Mandoâs demeanor changes.
Your eyes scan the crowd as they look at each other, waiting for someone else to make the first move. You suppose youâre looking for someone else to do the same.
To which Mando takes that as his signal.
He straightens up. âPlease, go back to your drinks. Enjoy yourselves.â The crowd remains hesitant. You assume itâs Mandoâs dramatic change in tone from angry to soft that keeps them wary.
But then Val, your neighbor who frequents you in light of conversation, speaks up. âYou heard him.â She gestures to the crowd, and like a switch on a control board, everyone returns to their seats and drinks return to their hands. Laughter begins to pick up and you take that as your chance to clean up what had gone from spilled alcohol to shattered glass and scattered credits.
After a couple minutes of regulating your breathing and trying to get your heart to start working again, you go back out to the bar with a wet linen cloth and a broom and dustpan.
You remove the shards of glass to the best of your ability before you begin to wipe aggressively at the dispersed liquid (some had definitely been soaked up by Temutâs clothes). You try to ignore the way your body continues to shake, but itâs hard to do that when a familiar gloved hand lightly skims the back of yours.
The act is meant to be soothing, but it just ends making your heart stutter all over again.
Dank farrik. FuckingâŠstop doing that.
âIâm sorry about the mess. I can clean it up.â You hate the way you almost sigh at the sound of his voice, at the way it acts as an automatic energy surge that rips through you like a Tatooine sand storm. âCyareâŠitâs okay, I can clean it up. Let me help.â If you werenât going to cry before, you sure fucking would now.
Because heâs here. Your Mando, your space cowboyâthe one who you had said goodbye to and were positive youâd never see againâwas here.
Yet, you canât look at him.
You missed him. Maker, you missed him so fucking much. But part of youâthe part that has some common senseâproves to remain annoyed. Angry that he feels he can rearrange your life for a second time only to say goodbye to you again and leave you a broken mess. But mostly, you're angry that'd you let him. Without hesitation.
You donât even notice how hard you start to scrub at the wood until a piece of glass rips through the cloth and cuts the palm of your hand. You gasp at the pain, which draws his attention to youâre bleeding hand.
Mando immediately takes your wrist and pulls it into the light as his visor scans the wound. Thereâs urgency behind his actions, but he remains gentle with the way he holds you.
He says nothing as he rounds the bar. He inspects your hand once again and in a quick motion, pulls out the piece of glass, then puts your hand under the running water. âDo you still have the bacta spray upstairs?â
Your throat is dry. âYeah.â You want to joke. You want to quip that of course you still had that enormously large bottle of bacta he got you. After all, you arenât getting into trouble like he does.
You want to lighten the mood, but you canât. Regardless of how at ease you feel around him, your body has more or less, shut down.
Heâs wrapping your hand in a bandage you hadnât even noticed he retrieved. âKeep this on for now, then tonight put on the bacta. Youâll be good as new tomorrow morning.â He ties the ends of the material neatly before lifting your hand to you; as though he needed confirmation that what he did was okay. That you, ultimately, were okay. Youâre acutely aware of the fact that he cradles your hand in his, even after letting it fall.
That action triggers something in you. Almost like a jumpstart to your senses.
âWhy are you here?â
He pauses and visibly stills when you finally lift your gaze to his. You ache to touch him; to splay your handsâinjured or notâalong the sides of his helmet to make sure you werenât imagining him. âI wanted to check up on you. Make sure you were okay,â he says simply. Like it didnât take much thought and looking after you was second nature. You suppose you canât blame him for that.
You can blame yourself, however, for softening at his words so quickly. Itâs a natural response you seemed to have developed after knowing himâa reaction that reflects how you could never really be mad at him. Even if you wanted; even if you tried.
And then something murmurs in your mind. A slight shift in the air. A whisper of foreign sensations within an energy field that you knew as though it were your own.
Then you see it. WellâŠmore like, you see him.
A tiny green head pokes out from underneath Mandoâs arm. It coos as it shuffles out from in the satchel until you are in direct view of a pair of large brown eyes.
âCyare,â Mando clears his throat and lifts the child up to meet you. âThis isââ
Grogu, he says.
âGroguâŠ?â The baby giggles at you. You feel the beginnings of a smile start to form as you take him from Mandoâs grasp who chuckles along with his child.
âYes. This is Grogu.â He uses his index finger to push down the bulging fabric of his collar from the little guy's mouth.
The babyâs attention is immediately stolen by your friend, as he gazes up at him adoringly.
âGrogu,â Mando tilts his head, and the child gurgles. âGrogu, this is the lady I was telling you about.â
You grin, catching a silver reflection out of the corner of your eye. âYou guys talk about me?â
He moves back a bit from you, and even though you canât see his face you can see the shock settle in. His fists clench at his sides as his shoulders square out. âI, umâŠisâis that okay?â You laugh a little at that.
âHey!â Your head swivels to the source of the noise and you see Val leaning over the counter. âIâm gonna head out for the night, honey. You all good?â
You shoot her a smile and nod. âHave a goodnight, Val.â
Her eyes flit up to Mando for a moment before she smirks to herself. âYou, too.â
You pass off Grogu to his dad before taking a quick look around the cantina. You spot a handful of patrons who are nearly finishing their drinks and ending their conversations. âI might as well close up shop, go have a shower. Smelling like a swamp certainly isnât good for business.â
Mando sits Grogu on the counter as he awkwardly moves on his feet. You expect him to react to your joke, but instead, he looks nervous. Agitated. As though he wants to say something but canât bring himself to do so.
You wish you could say you wanted to be angry with him. Truly, you did. But as you watch him hold out his finger for Grogu to grab onto, you realize itâs pointless. Because your heart swells at just the thought of him. You waited a whole month for him, never knowing if he was alive or dead, or if he even would ever come back to you.
But he did. He came back to you; had come back for you.
You imagined your reunion thousands of times, and each time, no matter the ending or circumstances, you never turned him away.
So why start now?
âDo you need a place to stay?â
His finger remains in Groguâs grasp as the rest of his attention shifts towards you. He hesitates, only for a moment, before speaking. âYou know it was only four months ago when you asked me the same thing, cyareâŠâ
You nod slowly and cross your arms with a shrug. âAnd I mean it,â you reassure him.
Mando just stares at youâhelmet titled down lowly as the visor fixates on your face. Within seconds, his intensity level was somehow dialed up to a hundred and it makes you shift nervously. You feel your breathing grow heavier as the air grows thicker. It makes you gulp and you have to avert your eyes to cut then tension.
âAs I was saying, you guys can stay with me for the night. Iâm sure the little guy could use some rest.â You turn on your heel and head towards the back-room staircase with Mando and Grogu following closely behind.
âą
âThank you for this,â Mando whispers lowly, thinking about Grogu whoâs fast asleep on your couch.
âYouâre always welcome here, Mando.â
After your shower, he had asked if you both could talk, which led to the two of you being forced to congregate really in the only other free room in your small lodgingsâyour bedroom.
The thought made you nervous; made your pulse quicken, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You both sit on the edge of your bed, but since itâs on the smaller side, your shoulders and knees practically touch.
Truly, the only way you could get closer to him is if you were to sit in his lap.
Not that youâd complain.
You snap yourself out of it. You canât think like that; canât take advantage of the situation at hand to fulfill whatever late-night fantasies you may or may not have had. But he is so close. And he smells so good.
Somehow, he smells like the pine trees on Endor. A mix of cool wind, moss, and the musk of the woods. It makes your throat close up and your fingers tremble. The energy in you is eclectic, and if he wasnât paying attention you wouldâve started to pace your apartment.
âWould it be wrong of me to assume that youâre letting me stay just because of Grogu?â
You laugh lightly. âYou wouldnât be entirely wrong, he is adorable.â
He laughs at that. Itâs hearty and low and he has to grip onto his thigh for support. Your eyes trail the curves of his fingers over the smooth beskar on his thick thighs and it takes everything in you not to place your hand on top of his.
You inwardly groan at how stupid you feel. Here you are, drooling over the sight of your friend (albeit, your sexy friend) whoâs simply trying to enjoy your company.
You hope he canât feel your stare.
Itâs when his laughter dies down, that he speaks up suddenly. âIâm sorry.â
Your gaze flicks up to his helmet only to find heâs already looking at you. You almost break out in an immediate sweat. Kriffing hell.
You inhale deeply. âWhat are you sorry for, Mando?â
âFor not contacting youâŠfor justâŠshowing up out of nowhere. You have your own life, cyarâika. Itâs not in my right to keep uprooting what you have going on just cause Iââ he goes quiet. You can practically see him biting his tongue through the beskar. âJust cause I want to see you.â
Your breath hitches and anticipation thrums in your veins. âYou wanted to see me?â Youâre not too sure where the courage to speak up comes from. The question itself is nothing. But because your voice cracks and croaks beneath the weight of future implications, your words mean everything.
You feel as though youâre standing on the lip of a cliff face. Eager, but terrified as you wait for that go-ahead to jump; to take that one too-far step off the edge and just fall. Fast and hard and into an atmosphere that fills your lungs with him. Your bones ache for it. But you wait.
You wait for that push.
Mando angles his body towards you as his hand slowly takes yours and intertwines your fingers. The pit of your stomach plummets. âI always want to see you,â is his response. He runs his thumb on the underside of your wrist. âI think youâre wonderful, cyarâika.â
You jump.
Crawling up on the bed, you kneel beside him. He looks up to you and you take note of how pretty he looks as the light of the moon hits the high points of his helmet. His breathing becomes heavy and slows the longer you look at him, and you take that as your sign to continue. Taking his hand, the one that held yours only moments ago, you place it on the base of your spine. He stills at that. His fingers barely graze the fabric of your shirt as his muscles stiffen and you take the opportunity to swing a leg over on the other side of his body until your straddling him.
Your face is so close to his, that you can hear the sounds of his stunted breathing through his modulator. Inhale. Pause. Huff. Exhale. Stop.
You sit fully down on his lap, and the tiny whimper he lets out at the sudden contact shoots right down to your core. His hands are slow, as they move along your back. Heâs sure to maintain a bit of space, and, if you werenât so eager to jump his bones, youâd have cried at his gentleness.
âCyareâŠâ his voice is low as he tries to speak. You move your hips a little, shifting so that way you can see him better and he sighs ever-so-softly. Thatâs when you become very aware of the feeling of him growing harder against you, and you have to hold yourself back from ripping off his beskar.
âYes?â You whisper back as you smooth your palms up his arms before settling on the wide expanse of his shoulders.
He clears his throat and you can feel the way he holds himself backâthe trepidation in his hips that tells him not to shift, tells him not to grind up against you. âAre youâdo you want this?â
You move your one hand across his collarbone: an area free of beskar. You wonder if he can feel you touch him through all those layers of clothing. His sudden intake of breath tells you that he does in fact feel it. You look at him directly through his visor with a small smile. âYes. Do you?â
He doesnât hesitate. âYes.â
You laugh loudly at his quick response until you feel yourself being flipped over onto the bed. You bounce on the mattress until he steadies you with his hands. He crawls over you, knees and hands caging you in under his massive form and the thought of whatâs to come sends a pang of arousal down in between your thighs.
He stands up and begins to take off his boots. Then his holster, and any other weapons he has hidden. Heâs there for a couple minutes, fingers shaking with anticipation which only makes it harder to unclasp the multiple straps slung across his body. He struggles for a few more seconds until heâs moved onto his cape and everything falls with a soft thud all at once.
He stands before you, the only items of clothing left on him being a thin shirt, his pants, and his helmet. You sit up, gaze focusing on him as you lift your shirt over your head and throw it onto his pile of clothes. He goes to stand in front of you, helmet watching the movements of your breathing that rattle your chest and you roll your eyes. âLike what you see?â
Heâs silent as his gaze darkens, and your heart pounds ferociously against your ribcage. âMeshâla.â
Itâs that one word that flicks a switch within you. With the sounds of heavy panting and frantic thoughts filling the room, you immediately loop your fingers around his belt buckle and yank his hips towards you. You fiddle with it until his belt is open and the zipper of his pants is exposed. You then palm him and he groans. The noise is guttural and makes you whimper because fuck, you just need him to touch you.
Before you can remove him from his pants and touch him in the way he deserves, heâs pushing you onto your back. You go to lean on your elbows but the second you see him kneel in front of you, you feel your muscles go limp. He grabs your calves and gently drags you to the edge of the bed, stopping when your hips nearly fall off the mattress. A pause.
âIâve never done this beforeâŠâ He mumbles though part of you thinks heâs mainly talking to himself.
âItâs okay, Mando. You donâtâyou canât. Your helââ
âYou didnât let me finish.â His hands, the ones that you finally realize are gloveless, slowly run along the smooth skin of your legs, stopping just above the knee, right where you want to feel him most. âAs I was saying, Iâve never done this before, but Iâm a fast learner. I promise to make you feel good, cyare.â
Your heartbeat drops to your cunt. But the confusion of the matter with his helmet remains in your clouded mind.
Was he going to take it off?
His fingers grip the edge of his helmet and in one swift motion, itâs on the floor. âMandoâŠâ you whisper, and itâs the first time you can actually see him when he looks at you.
Holy shit.
Heâs even moreâŠbeautiful. Almost in an unfair way. A way that you wouldnât believe if you hadnât seen it first hand. Soft brown curls fall around the crown of his head as they blend in with the furrow of his brow line. Eyes, deep brown and delicate shine against warm tanned skin as they look at you soâŠlovingly. Itâs the first time youâre actually looking at him and it feels as though your heart is bursting in flames. âYour helmetâŠâ
He just looks at you, before nodding. âItâs alright, cyarâika. I trust you.â And just like that, as though him taking off his helmet was nothing, as though he had already made up his mind a millennia ago, he kisses along the inside of your ankle and trails his lips up the inner part of your leg. His stubble tickles the inside of your knee but then his mouth lands on the soft skin of your inner thigh and you gasp loudly. Far too loudly for such a simple kiss, but Mando seems to enjoy it anyway as he chuckles. He kisses you again, teeth grazing the sensitive skin before he lifts up your legs and pulls off your shorts.
The cold air hits you and you become hyper-aware of the fact that you are completely naked underneath your fully clothed Mandalorian. You go to move away from him, embarrassment over the situation beginning to kick in, but heâs quick to grab your legs and rest them on his shoulders. He kisses you again as he begins to mumble incoherently. A string of âmeshâlaâsâ is murmured into your skin as he follows the same pursuit up your body until his face stops just above your cunt. He breathes on you, and you huff at the feeling.
And then, much like how you jumped, he does, too.
Heâs slow at first, tongue lapping at you gently as he tests the waters, as he navigates going about eating you out. He tries out different techniques, eyes watching you expertly to see what you like the most, what makes you shiver, and what makes you moan in that way that shoots down right to his dick. But then you groan and throw your head back into the mattress as he licks a thick stripe upward. And, as if that wasn't enough, he then chooses to suck on your clit and your thighs tighten around his head. He pauses at your reaction, eyebrows raising with curiosity. He does it again and you cry out. His eyes roll back into his head at the sound as he grips your thighs tighter and gets to work.
âI like the way you sound, meshâla.â He mumbles against youâthe vibrations adding to your building climax. Your legs shake and your hands grip the sheets in an effort to keep your limbs occupied. âLike the way you taste, too.â
Oh, fuck me.
He stops suddenly (though admittedly, heâd love to stay between your thighs for all eternity) and you take a minute for your mind to catch up with reality. Heâs then tossing his shirt into the corner of your room and crawling up your body. He runs his rough hands along your hips and stomach, up to your ribcage, and over your breasts as his nose grazes the valley of your chest.
The feeling of you breathing beneath him gets him going in ways he hadnât even imagined would have an effect on him. So, he spends his time tracing the dips and curves of your body, wanting to make sure he has every inch of you memorized.
Sure, he wasnât super experienced with any of thisânever found the time to get intimate with someone, regardless of how connected he wanted to be to another person. But he'd had fantasies. Had imagined you beforeâtouching his helmetless face as you kiss him deeply. You made him feel good, made him feel loved and cared for. So he had to make sure he made you feel the same way. Make sure you knew just how much he loved you.
He rests his hands on your cheeks and strokes a thumb over the bone there. âMeshâlaâŠâ He mumbles for the thousandth time that night as he stares down at you softly.
Maker, he hopes you know just how much he loves you.
He leans down and watches your beautiful bright eyes as they widen the closer he gets to your face. Initially, he worries that maybe heâs moving too fast, maybe you donât want to know this part of him. But that fear--that nagging voice in the back of his head disappears, and soon heâs leaning down.
Gently, he kisses you.
Youâre both initially shocked by it all. Itâs the first time you feel his mouth on yours; the first time you get to feel each other breathe, the first time noses bump together and eyelashes rest against the others cheek. Youâre resting on your elbows now (with what little strength you have in your arms) as you meet him in the middle. A large hand then cups the side of your face as he deepens the kiss.
You groan at how sinful the taste of yourself on his tongue is, and he silently deals with a shaky heart that finally knows what it feels like to kiss you. It's beautiful. Warm. Natural...as though heâs kissed you like this a hundred times.
Your hands shoot to his head, running your fingers through his hair and gripping at the nape of his neckâpulling him as close to you as humanly possible. He supports you with his free hand splayed over your back as his other tangles itself in your hair. He bites your lip, panting and desperate before kissing down your face. He runs chapped lips over the column of your neck before settling on the junction before your shoulder. He kisses and bites and licks at the raw skin, preening at the sounds he pulls from you.
âIs this okay, cyare?â You pause and force yourself to think about his question through the fog that has inhabited your brain. He kisses you under your ear softly and nuzzles his nose into the crook of your chin. âAre youâŠenjoying this?â
You laugh lightly and turn your head to look at him. âItâs more than okay, Mando.â
He kisses your lips again and then inhales deeply. âItâs Din.â
Your eyes focus on his brown ones as your mouth slightly falls open. âWhat?â
âMy name. Itâs Din. I want you to call me Din.â
The request lights up your skin and takes home in your heart. You smile up at him, relishing in the warm energy that graces your chest. âOkay, DinâŠâ you murmur and look down to see his still painfully hard length pressed against your thigh. You lie back down and bring your hands up to his faceâmapping the ridge of his nose, and the contrast of soft skin and rough stubble. He takes your hand and kisses your palm, and you almost cry at the action. At him.
You almost cry because your Din is beautiful and soft, and loving and gentle, even under all that hard beskar armor. Heâs everything and more, and you promise to yourself you will convince him of how deserving of love he is every day. You will love him just as gently as he loves you.
But right now you need him to fuck your brains out.
âDin,â you guide his face to look at you, although it doesnât take much effort because he canât stop looking at you. Heâs too caught up in the natural sight of youâa sight only his eyes free of his visor can know. âI need you.â
He pauses and swallows at your words. You then bring your knees up around his hips and guide them down to you in such urgency that he canât help but let his head fall with a groan to your chest.
Maker, he needs you, too.
Din places one last chaste kiss to the skin just above your collarbone before sitting up on the back of his legs and grabbing his length. He thinks momentarily about how even with the fact that he knew how to have sex, heâd never been inside someone who could see his faceâcould watch how his jaw falls slack and how his eyes squint as a particular wave of pleasure rolls through his muscles.
But as he looks down at you, and sees that youâre looking at him with the same love and adoration heâs reserved for you, he realizes he wouldnât have it any other way.
He lines himself up at your entrance and you both take a collective deep breath before he pushes into you. You throw your head back with a sigh as he slowly goes deeper. He lets you get used to that full feeling, giving you time at any moment to tell him what you want, what you donât want and how you want it. Heâs receptive to you, and only you. He wants to make sure youâre enjoying this as much as he is; if you want to come with him just as badly as he wants to come with you.
He bottoms out, pauses, then looks to you for the go-ahead. He takes a mental note of the way you look after the first thrust: mouth slightly open with gently closed eyes, and a glowing red flush creeping up your sweaty face.
Kriffing hell, youâre fucking beautiful.
He sits there waiting for your acknowledgment, though his hips scream at him to move, and then youâre nodding.
He starts off slowly, rocking into you at a steady pace that gives as much as it takes with each thrust. Youâre both panting, feelings of desperation clambering their way to the top to strive to be louder than the other.
Your legs cross around his hips as you subconsciously pull him closer to you. âHarder.â You whisper the plea, worried that you were too quite for him to hear you. But Din did in fact hear you. And, with a quick repositioning of his grip around your hips heâs able to do just that.
His hips snap against yours in such a rhythm that robs you of your breathing and your ability to form any coherent thought other than how fucking good heâs making you feel. And in one particular thrust, he finds that spot inside of you that makes your eyes roll and toes curl and youâre gasping at the feeling. Heâs started to grunt now, teeth gritting together as the sounds of your moans pitch higher.
âFuck, Din. MakerâŠfuck, oh myâŠâ You canât form an intelligible sentence as the coil in the pit of your stomach twists tighter and tighter each time his hips meet yours. You look down at where your bodies are connected for a brief moment before heâs grabbing your jaw with his hand and bringing it up his face.
âCyareâŠâ
âIâm gonna come, Din.â You warn. âIâm gonnaâŠâ
âOpen your eyes,â he instructs as he pushes hair out of your face. âWanna watch you come all over me, meshâla.â
You nod, though your brain doesnât exactly know what it agrees to. Your knees shake against his hips and you whimper at how so fucking close you are. Din takes the opportunity to drive a couple more hard, fast-paced thrusts into you before the coil snaps and you scream.
Your knees squeeze his hips and your back arches as your orgasm hits you in tidal waves. Your muscles tighten and contract with each roll of his hips and he almost comes at the sight of you. You really are so beautiful. Heâs close, can feel it every time you convulse. But then your hands make their way into his hair, and with one hard tug, heâs coming inside of you with a curse and a grunt. Warmth pools in your cunt, as he slows downâshallow thrusts that help him come down from his high as he spills inside you.
Dropping his head into the crook of your neck, he kisses your shoulder slowly, panting in the sheets as you kiss the side of his face. âI love you, cyarâika.â His voice is deep and muffled and you almost donât catch those words. You wonder if he even noticed he had said them.
But regardless of whether he meant to say it out loud, you hear his words nonetheless. So with a smile, you whisper back to him. âLove you, Din.â
As both of your heartbeats fall into a calm sync, your mind travels.
For the first time since meeting him, you choose to go deep into the recesses of his mind. You see flashes of vivid images and phrases and memories that all lead to the assurance that this time, heâs not leaving you. He repeats the words over and over in his head and you can hear them as though they were your own. He tells himself, as he drifts off to sleep, that him and Grogu are home now. Your heart swoons at the words. Home.
You, however, canât sleep. The energy that buzzes around and within you keeps you up, so you opt to watch him sleep into the early hours of the morning. He lies beside you, one hand on your hip with your legs hooked together. His face is so impossibly close to yours that you are able to study the small knickâs and scars of life that paint his body. Then a soft yellow light from the sun shining through your bedroom window cascades on his mess of tousled brown hair.
You realize, in the afterglow of it all, that his previous clan of two, has now become a clan of three.
âą
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Call Me By My Name-Pietro Maximoff x Powers!Reader
(GIF credit to @dailymarvelpostsâ)
Tags: @bloodorangemoonlightâ @amirahiddlestonâ
Requested by @husherstanâ : âcould you write a one w pietro maximoff? idk if you know about a trend on tik tok where a gf or bf call them partners by they first name. Reader and Pietro are enemies cuz them both are always trying to be the best of t team, reader calls him by others names and when she (or gn) calls by him real name he was like "why are you calling me like that? whats wrong with you? are you feeling bad today?" (and he likes her so fucking much, a simp)â
Characters: Pietro Maximoff x Reader, Avengers team x Reader
Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name Â
(Character has the power of force fields, that both generate electricity and provide protection for them/others)Â Â
Warnings: Name calling, bullying, arguing, fluff
                   *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
âFor the last time, watch where youâre going Speedy Gonzales!â I snapped as Pietro almost knocked me over again.
His form whizzed around the room once more before stopping in front of me.âMaybe try keeping up next time.â
I was startled by the force he left behind as he ran off again making a show of circling the entire training room multiple times, creating a small wave of air. I groaned loudly as I went back to jogging. He was such a show off, it infuriated me. We werenât here to compete against each other, we were supposed to be a team; but when he waltzed around the place boasting about how fast he was, it was really hard not to step up to the plate.Â
Pietro was running faster than usual, trying to overlap me dozens of times, more than he would have done in a normal session. It got on my last nerve, making me stop, my powers already flowing through my arms. It would be hard to pinpoint him, so I charged up a huge ball of electricity, casting it out harshly. I just managed to catch him, laughing as he yelped out in surprise, being thrown high into the air before landing on the sparring mats. I saw him slowly get up, clearly I had caused some pain. My fun was soon ended as he ran towards me again, having to quickly put up a force field that would protect me. Pietro bounced off it, though I hadnât put any charge in this one, so he only fell on his backside.
âEnough!â Wanda yelled out, though we still kept our guard up around each other.âReally (Y/N)? You can relax now.â
âI donât trust him.â I replied.
She sighed.âCome on, Steve wants to talk about the mission.â
âWhy? We debriefed three days ago.â
âSomething to do with it being on the news.â she shrugged, walking away.
Pietro glanced back at me, looking me up and down before following his sister. However, he didnât look at me with disgust or anything of the sort, it was almost as if he was checking me out. I tutted at myself, why on Earth would he ever look at me like that?
I wasnât happy joining the meeting in my sweaty state.Everyone else was dressed and put together, but at least Pietro looked similar. The team was gathered around a table, looking to Steve who was stood at the front, his arms crossed over his chest. He had the look of disappointment on his face, which meant bad news for the rest of us...or whoever was in trouble. With no seats left, I copied Steveâs stance at the back of the room, rolling my eyes when Pietro stood beside me.
âSorry to call you guys in on such short notice.â Steve started.âBut I feel that we have to discuss something thatâs starting to effect the team.â
He pulled up a screen showing the news. It had images and videos of our last mission. We were raiding an old factory on the edge of the city, finding a terrorist group hiding out there as they worked on their gadgets. News coverage showed the team fighting from a helicopter view, and we were all confused as to why Steve was showing us this.
âFastest man alive,â Pietro repeated what the reporter said,âit has a nice ring to it.â
âI wouldnât put that in your Tinder bio.â I quipped, causing a few chuckles.
Steve looked at me.âAnd this is why weâre here today.â
I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.âWhat?â
âYou and Pietro are always at each otherâs throats. Itâs...well frankly, itâs exhausting listening to you two arguing all the time. And it could seriously put someone in danger whilst on a mission, even you two.â
âHe always starts it-â
Pietro held up a finger.âHold on, you do too-â
âYouâre just proving his point guys.â Natasha spoke over us.
âAs I was saying,â Steve brought the attention back to him,âthe media has also caught onto this. Thereâs multiple images of you two clearly arguing, or even getting in each others way during the mission. At one point, youâre both trying to save the same person, but almost miss that chance because youâre so invested in being better than the other!â
Steve was really mad, and from everyone elseâs faces, they thought the same thing.
âSo until all of this changes, you two are suspended from any missions.â
âWhat?!â we both exclaimed.
âAnd you may not approach any other team member for assistance with training.â
âWhy are we both being punished?â I demanded to know.
âOh, do not play the victim here Mrs Incredible!â Pietro snapped.
âMrs Incredible is super stretchy, itâs the daughter who has the same powers as me, you idiot!â
âSee? Youâre further showing me that I made the right decision. I felt bad at first, but now I know that this is the right direction to go in.â Steve raised his voice.âYouâre both dismissed.â
âWell, what are the rest of you doing?â Pietro dared to ask.
âWe are going to go over all the planning we have done for upcoming missions. Everything has to change because of you two. Now please go.â
I held it together as I left the room, not wanting to appear like a toddler stomping away in a tantrum. It was impossible to get away from Pietro, what with him being âthe fastest man aliveâ, but I was going to try. I didnât need another argument right now, I was upset, needed to be alone. Apparently, I wasnât going to get that.
âLeave me alone.â I warned Pietro as he followed me.
âI canât believe this! Theyâve kicked us off the team because you always have to say something-â
âI donât want to talk about it.â
âAnd to think, theyâre going to risk not having me on the team. I help them with everything, Iâm a crucial part-â
âPietro!â I shouted, spinning on my heel to face him.Â
His eyes widened at that, glancing down to my clenched up fists, little electric sparks running over them, before looking me in my teary eyes.Â
I sighed, relaxing my tense shoulders and hands before leaving. There was no point trying to explain. He wouldnât understand. We would both get mad, probably fight, the team would have to break us up; I had no energy to do that. Slowly turning away, I was surprised by the silence that followed, Pietro didnât even follow me.Â
I checked the time on the lock screen of my phone, seeing that an hour had passed since I fled from Pietro. It also made me realise how dark the room had become, the sun would set in a few minutes. But I didnât bother turning on any lights, instead leaning back again on the chair. I was sat in an empty lobby, it was a small room, facing the floor to ceiling window that showed the landscape that surrounded the headquarters. Besides just sitting here, I should have distracted myself. Perhaps put on a film, relax after training, something to take my mind off of things. Instead, I decided to sit with my thoughts.
âH-hey.â I heard Pietro quietly say from the doorway.Â
Looking over my shoulder, I didnât reply, facing the window again when he began walking towards me. He hesitantly turned on a lamp near us, sitting on the chair beside mine. Pietro also looked out of the window, clasping his hands together for a few seconds before fidgeting. I tried to ignore it, though after an hour of peace and nothingness, it became irritating quickly.
âCan you stop?â I blurted out.âPlease?â
âAre you annoyed by everything I do?â he asked.
âNot...everything. I just...doesnât matter, itâs not like you care anyway.â
âThatâs not true.â
âIâm not falling for this Pietro.â
âWhy are you saying my name?â
âWhat?â
âYou never say my name. Actually, we never say each others names.â
âAnd why does that matter?â
âIt just feels, it feels serious.â
âI mean, weâve basically been kicked off the team, so yeah, itâs serious.â
âWeâve not been kicked off the team (Y/N).â
âWe could be if we donât get our act together.â
âIt wonât go that far-â
âBut it could! I canât believe how calm you are about the whole thing.â I stood, distancing myself from him.âIâve worked too hard for this. Imagine what would happen if word got out that I was disbanded from the Avengers because of a tiny argument, with a team member who is so narcissistic that he canât put others before himself!â
I realised I had began ranting, stopping myself before I said anything else hurtful. But by the look of Pietroâs face, it was already too late.
âI...Iâm sorry (Y/N).â he never broke eye contact.âAnd before you say anything, I mean it.â
âPietro, I-â
âI can see how much this job means to you.â
âItâs my fault too. I always try to outdo you or challenge you.â
âNo, donât be humble.â he got out of his seat, standing in front of me.âItâs almost always my fault that we argue. And I hate myself for it.â
âI donât understand.â
âIâm usually very good with the ladies.â he grinned, though it disappeared when he realised it wasnât time to joke.âBut not around you apparently. Itâs probably because youâre extremely strong and sure of yourself, and I go for a different type, the polar opposite to you.â
âPietro, I...um...â
âI was really impressed by you when we first met. It made me nervous actually.â
âReally?â
âYeah, all I can do is run really fast.â
âBut, youâve been on much more missions than I have. Doesnât that say something?â I hung my head.
âAre you crazy? Youâre not on those missions because they donât need you.â
My head whipped up to see his smile drop.
âI didnât mean it like that! I meant that those missions are for Avengers like me. The ones they can use over and over without worrying about them being too tired for the next one. What Iâm trying to say is, youâre too important.â
âI never thought I would say this, but Pietro, youâre an important part of the team too. I always rose to your challenges because I felt I needed to prove something to the others. I was new, then I was accepted after all my relentless training, but when you and Wanda came along, I instantly became old news. And you didnât even go through the rigorous regimes like I did, so I just assumed you were better than me.â
âIt seems we were both wrong about each other. We were going through a lot of effort to outdo the other when we could have saved that energy for...well, anything else really.â
âYeah. I suppose so.â
Pietro held his hand out.âTruce?â
I smiled up at him as I shook it.âTruce.â
A cheeky smirk appeared as he raised an eyebrow at me.âLetâs not tell the team about this just yet. I feel like there would be a lot of âI told you soâ.â
âItâs like you read my mind.â
âAnd another thing.â
I noticed he was still holding my hand, though they were lowered now, and his grip wasnât as firm.âYes?â
âCan we start calling each other by our actual names?â
âI mean, I assumed we would anyway.â
âOh, good. I just...â
âYou just?â
âI just like the way it sounds when you say my name.â
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Insufferable
A/N: The long-awaited flashback is here! It's short, but it is here! I hope this can really show the turning point in Jungkook's and MC's relationship and I would love to hear everyone's thoughts. As usual, tips are not required but greatly appreciate. Hope you all enjoy and have a wonderful day/night!
Note: This is a part (specifically a flashback) of The Household's Bunny series, so I recommend reading at least the Prologue before this one
Word count: 3.6k
Pairing: Soft Yandere! Jungkook x Chubby! Reader
Summary: Roommates are bound to have arguments, especially when one of them is as temperamental as Jungkook, but you didn't expect the first argument to get so unbelievably personal.
Warnings: abandonment issues, mommy issues, allusions to past abuse, family issues, crying, yelling, vomiting, panic attack, exhaustion, some soft yandere thoughts, some possessiveness, jungkook is mean and the MC gets a little mean too
There was something so constricting about memories of a shitty childhood. There were times when looking in the mirror felt like searching for the child in you so you could give her the hug she desperately needed. There were times when waking up felt like a check to make sure you were no longer in the home you had to grow up in far too quickly. However, the comfort of being in a different home only came so far when you didn't have anyone beside you or even emotionally available enough to talk to.
You stayed in bed for hours before it felt like a good idea to move, almost waiting for the mirage of change to fade before it brought you back to the gym with your mom or your uncle's apartment littered with whiskey bottles and leaky tear ducts.
Sometimes putting your best foot forward each day felt so hard with all-consuming loneliness clinging to your heels.
You had started your day going through your memory box. Hindsight said that was a poor idea. The box was a sure way to get you into a bad mood. You liked to think you breezed past all the stages of grief, but just because you accepted reality didn't make it hurt any less. The box was a strong reminder of that much as it sat with a melancholic aura. The creme color faded and the thorned vines connected to roses only added to the malicious undertones of its existence to your mental health. It was full of childhood photos, your birth certificate, school achievements, and the last known address your mom had.
Ah, your mom. What a way to bring clouds to your sunny day. You donât know why you put yourself through the turmoil of the memory box. Maybe you were hoping it would be easier by now. You were always wrong. Looking through childhood photos and finding no love in the eyes of your mother when she looked at you and watching the love in your uncleâs eyes fade with your motherâs presence. You got to the fated birthday card, thumb rubbing over the defunct address longingly. You held the envelope in your hand, inspecting the birthday card she sent you. Three words in the repetitive note written on the inside caught your eye, and not the ones you so desperately wanted from her.
Feeling a familiar pressure behind your eyes, you tossed the card aside and stood. It was time to eat, go on a walk, do anything other than this. You found your way to the kitchen and came across a silent and solemn Jungkook. His jaw was clenched, but it felt like it always was around you.
Your relationship with Jungkook so far was not very complicated, in the way it was nonexistent. He either didnât care about talking to you or he actively didnât want to, you really couldnât tell. This didnât stop you from trying, though. Like an idiot.
âIâm making food, did you want any?â You asked from your place seated on the couch, and the silence that was his response for deafening, âOkaaaay.â You sang awkwardly, âI just know that you usually donât eat throughout the day and-â
âAnd what do you know?!â He snapped, blinded by his pure and unbridled, but most important unprovoked, rage of you. Your eyes widened and your body jumped. Holy shit, you had never heard him yell like this, âYou donât know anything about me, or in general, so just stop trying so fucking hard!â He was harsh in his tone and it lit your whole nervous system on fire. What the hell did you do to him?
You shook your head, not sure why he was yelling about, but it made your throat feel like it was going to close, âLook, I was just trying to be polite, but you donât need to talk about me like you understand-â
âUnderstand?! Whatâs there to understand?â He challenged, eyes wide like he was expecting you to say something but he continued, âYouâre some spoiled girl living here rent-free because your precious dad doesnât want to take care of you.â
Your heart caught in your throat as it shattered. He was right, your dad didn't want to take care of you, but not in the way he thought. Why was he doing this? Has he genuinely felt this way all along? Was he just holding in his anger until you poked the bear a little too hard? âYou donât need to yell at me.â You stated firmly and it seemed to only make things worse.
âAnd you donât need to fucking be here in the first place!â He spoke, temper long lost and you could hear his voice mix in with Jungyoonâs, all he needed was a bottle of whisky and a set of calloused hands, âYou didnât need to fucking live here-â
âYou donât know anything about me.â You spat out. Now, you were losing your temper. You could take a beating, but for only so long, especially as an adult, "And it's not like you're paying rent either, so what do you know about me or my living arrangements?" You hissed and you watched his eyes flare, making you nearly regret your provocation.
âNo, but I know how you look naked-â
âFuck you.â You spit the word out at him, something you havenât done to another person for a while âDonât weaponize my work or play a game that you absolutely will lose.â You warned, âI know all about you, and I can use that, because youâve been a star since you were 15, and that sucks, that makes you mad, doesnât it?â Your temper effectively lost as you ripped into the rage-filled man before you, âYet you donât know anything about me, and that must piss you the fuck off, huh?â You stood from the couch, tears building in your eyes before you could stop it.
âI know enough, spoiled rich girl.â He seethed and you laughed humorlessly at this worldwide pop star calling you spoiled and rich.
âNot only are you wrong, but youâre also a poor listener.â You shot back, âIâve told you all before Jungyoon isnât my fucking dad, heâs my uncle.â His mouth opened but you cut him off before he could start, âHe canât stand the sight of me so he travels for work.â Your tears are undoubtedly falling, but you canât stop, âAnd youâre talking to me like this because what? You had a scandal or something?â You gave him his chance to talk and boy, he took it.
âMona told me you know your mom.â His voice was like venom, âSo, why the fuck are you here? You have your blood relatives.â He exaggerated the word like it meant anything to you, âWhy are you here, disrupting our lives, acting like an innocent orphan girl around actual fucking orphans-â
âI never said I was or acted like an orphan!â You exclaimed incredulously before scoffing, âThatâs why youâre mad? Because you never knew your mom and I did? Because I know who my blood family is?â You could laugh at how ridiculous that was, âI know them, so what? Where does that get me?â You looked at him expectantly but he didnât talk, âI knew my mom, and guess what? She just didnât fucking want me.â He was silent, but you still couldnât stop, âIâm sure if your mom couldâve got to know you, she wouldâve kept you, because youâre not insufferable to be around, youâre just a fucking asshole.â You wiped at your cheeks furiously, âBut me? I had 15 years to prove myself and it still wasnât enough. I still wasnât enough. Jungyoon never wanted me either, he got stuck with me and had to cope.â Your voice began to break and you had to take a breath, âI was the insufferable one, so-â You stopped, finally as you regained your sense of reality and watched Jungkook who had an unreadable expression and the realization of the word vomit you spilled out to him hit you like a train as you exhaled quickly, rage in your voice quickly replaced with soft melancholy âI am the insufferable one here, so there.â You shrugged, face a wet mess, âHope that brings you peace.â Your stomach was churning as you turned on your heel, unable to hold in your sobs. You couldnât bear the awkwardness of waiting for the elevator so you opted to take the stairs.
You sobbed louder as the door slammed shut behind you, but you didnât want to linger so you bolted down the stairs, the bile in your stomach signaling that you needed to find the nearest trashcan and quickly. You made it to the ground floor and spilled your guts into the small trashcan. Yelling always made you unbelievably ill, whether it was getting yelled at or yelling, the sickness it made you feel overflowed. The yelling only reminded you of-
You vomited again at the mere thought. You cried harder when you finally finished, breathing becoming staggered as you began to panic.
Fuck, theyâre gonna kick you out, and then youâll be alone again. You lost your temper, people donât like other people who lose their temper. Why couldnât you just mind your own fucking business and leave him be? Youâre stupid. Why do you think youâve been alone all your life? Itâs because people donât want to be near you. Youâre-
âInsufferable.â You mumbled, numb, even if for only a moment.
Sure, Jungkook provoked you, but you knew better. You didn't go to therapist after therapist throughout your adolescence for nothing. You felt as if you set yourself back eons after that outburst. He didn't need to know all that about you, ever. He probably didn't even care to know, and you said it anyway, like you were gunning for gold in the trauma Olympics. You didn't want to minimize his struggles, you just wanted him to shut up and stop yelling at you. You let your eyes flutter closed as you cried. How can you complain about being alone when you're like this?
You donât know how long you stayed there, sitting next to a trash can full of your vomit as you wallowed in your self-hatred. The all-consuming loneliness the boisterous house subdued returning with full force. Jungkook was right. You didnât need to be here. You were only disrupting their routine.
You blew out a sigh as you staggered to the elevator, fully set on going up to your room and crying yourself to sleep after you clean up. You brought the trashcan with you, not having the heart to just leave your puke down there. You thanked your lucky stars when Jungkook was no longer on the second floor as you went to the kitchen and rinsed your mouth before going to take out the trash and take out your burnt oven pizza. Finally, you were headed back up to your floor. You watched the numbers tick by with tired eyes. You glared at the empty trashcan, electing to take it with you instead of making the trip back down to put it back. Surely, they wouldnât need it for a few hours.
The elevator dinged as you grabbed the black plastic bin and then you were met with Jungkook. Relief flashed across his face before irritation settled on it, âWhere the fuck were you?!â He asked hurriedly as you trudged past him, too exhausted to fight. You were running on autopilot the whole way up here, and you couldnât bear another spat.
âI was on the first floor.â Your voice was low, trying to communicate you were done arguing as you lifted the bin as proof. You then set it down and went to your bathroom and began brushing your teeth.
He scoffed, âYou were on the first floor for 30 minutes?â He asked as if he caught you in a lie but you nodded as you rinsed your mouth.
You were down there for thirty minutes? No wonder you felt so tired.
âYep.â You popped the last letter before correcting yourself, âWell, I spent like 10 minutes cleaning up that bin, so not exactly.â
âWhy?â He asked as if you were being ridiculous, as if he wasnât the one on your floor demanding answers.
âI vomited.â You spoke simply and before he could ask, âYelling makes me puke.â You were so blase about it he sighed in frustration.
You walked to your room and froze when you saw your memory box strewn about, and it was like a dam broke all over again. You looked at the photos, at the eager little girl looking for love in places she would never find it.
Old habits die hard.
Before you could even stop yourself, you sunk to your knees in garbled sobs and broken cries, âHey, hey, wait.â Jungkookâs shaky voice did nothing to bring you back to reality as you cried. His hands placed themselves on your shoulder, making you flinch violently, much to his horror.
Fuck, he didnât know how to do this. He didnât know why you were crying, but he knew it was his fault, at least in part. Even if at this moment it wasnât, his outburst surely didnât help. Fuck, heâs so dumb. Fuck, he shouldnât have talked to Mona just moments before seeing you.
The envy of even seeing your own motherâs face ate up at him and he took it out on you. Not to mention that he made you vomit from the yelling. He suddenly felt more like an arrogant asshole than he did before as his hands now hovered over your form and he took a moment to look at your room.
Scattered on the floor were childhood photos and ribbons from competitions. Things Mona kept in her own house, having a whole wall filled with every one of their achievements. Even Jin had a photo album of their things. And you, you kept all these for yourself. You were the only one who cared enough to save these things and he wondered how much you threw away to maintain space in the small empty box. Fuck, he didnât know how to do this.
You sighed shakily, âYou can just go.â You cried, âYou donât have to be here.â You donât know what he could possibly gain from watching you cry.
âI know.â His voice was calm, even, âCan I help you up?â He asked and you wanted to look up at him in confusion but you didn't want him to see your tears.
You both had just ripped into each other, and here he was, wanting to help you. Why would he do that? Why would he stay when he doesn't have to? Why would he want to help you up after a fight?
Too tired to even think about questioning him and no longer angry at him, you simply scoffed, âCan you?â You sighed, not having the energy to stroke his ego and stand up without his help.
You never let people bear your dead weight, not wanting the awkwardness if they couldnât carry you, but right now, you just wanted to lay down.
He snorted lightly, happy to hear anything other than a sob for you, âDonât worry about me, you just cry and mind your business.â He spoke lightly, and the comment made you fight a smile. Then, he lifted you with so much ease, you figured he was trying to show off as he placed you on the bed. He looked at you after he sat on the floor before his eyes caught onto the gold foil of a 16th birthday card. You were wiping at your face as he read the card against his better judgment.
I know you must be confused, and I canât help that. I wish I could pretend to be a mom, but I canât. I canât be your mom, and I never should have tried. It would be best if we forgot each other. I just canât keep pretending, and I know you can see it, even if you donât want to.
Iâm so tired.
-Mom
Now, he felt even more like an asshole. He also felt a little bit angry that your mother could just leave you behind without so much as saying sorry. She wrote like she was a teenager and you were her mother. She obviously didn't put much thought into the seemingly last message to her daughter and it made his heartbreak for you, âThat was the last I heard of her.â You snapped him from his thoughts and he looked at your puffy face, âShe had left months earlier, and then I got that, but she moved before I could try to see her one more time.â There was a distant ache in your words as you looked at Jungkook sitting amongst your memories.
âIs she⊠still alive?â He asked, not sure why he felt the need to know.
âNot sure, but it doesnât make much of a difference, I guess.â You blew out a sigh, before looking at your papers and folded posterboards, âI was cleaning out my memory box, and Iâm not sure why I do it when I know it just upsets me.â You could still feel tears leaking from your eyes as Jungkook picked up a photo of you on your 14th birthday, posed between Jungyoon and your mom. You had a bright smile on your face and they looked at the camera with a tight expression, âYou can really see how much they didnât want to be there, but that's the happiest they look in all of the photos.â
He wanted to say you were wrong, but he could see it. He could see the happy little girl trying to make up for the unhappy adults around her. He knew he shouldâve asked Mona why Jungyoon didnât try to call or visit or why she was so eager to take you in if you knew your family. He shouldâve just known better. Yeah, he understood how it felt to be alone growing up, they all did, but by the time they were all 17 they had a home that wanted them. You were going to graduate from college soon and you still felt unwanted.
No thanks to him.
âIâm sorry.â He blurted and you looked at him with wide eyes, âFor being an asshole, Iâm sorry- and for making you cry. I justâŠâ He shrugged, âYouâre right. I was jealous you knew your mom and I already was suspicious of you and I- Iâm dumb, and Iâm sorry.â He looked at you, eyes a bit glossy and you wondered when was the last time someone apologized for making you cry.
âItâs okay.â You smiled weakly, âYou are dumb, but thatâs okay.â You chuckled when he frowned, but eventually, he also broke into a short laugh, âI think⊠weâve felt a lot of the same things in different ways, so I canât blame you.â He wondered how you could be so forgiving, and he was scared of how many times that has gotten you hurt, âI like living here and I like all of you, so I hope I can get you all to like me too, even if just a little.â
âDonât accept less than you deserve.â He spoke firmly before he started picking up your memory box, putting things neatly back in.
âWh-â
He waved his hands nonchalantly, âYou, sleep, Iâll clean this up and order some food.â He didnât look at you as he said this, mostly to hide his blush, "If...If you want, I can give this to Jin. He has a whole place he keeps our stuff like this⊠he's really sentimental." He stumbled, still refusing to look at you.
However, he jumped when he heard you hiccup a cry. Ready to apologize, Jungkook was just about to turn to look at you until he heard you speak, "That⊠That sounds very sweet of you to do." You wiped a sentimental tear away as the blushing boy remained frozen.
"It's Jin's hobby, not mine." He deflected before waving his hand at you, "Sleep, I said." He frantically demanded.
You could see his ears getting red and you smiled, âYes, sir.â You mocked in your work voice and made him freeze for a moment as you erupted into giggles while he whined, âOkay, okay, Iâll sleep.â
Eventually, you surrendered to your exhaustion as he delicately put away your papers and photos. He hummed lightly, smiling as he came across your debate team awards. No wonder he lost the fight before it even started. He turned around after lifting the box and sighed almost dreamily as he watched your sleeping face. You were beautiful, delicate, and puffy from the tears. He had the urge to keep apologizing for being such an asshole, but after looking through your achievements and your photos, he resolved to just keep proving it.
He wouldnât let you get hurt again. Not by him or anyone, especially your mother, even Jungyoon was on thin ice.
His blood boiled at the thought of your mother for a reason he couldnât understand. His hand extended shakily as he pulled the covers up to your shoulder and you hummed contently, making his heart melt a bit at the little smile you had. He wouldnât fuck up with you again, not like this. He would be nice, at least a little, and first and foremost, he would order food you liked.
He froze.
Fuck, what food do you like?
He relaxed. Well, he could just ask the guys.
Fuck, theyâre gonna ask questions.
Fuck, theyâre gonna kill him when they found out he made you cry.
He looked back at your sleeping form, not having the heart to wake you up. He sighed, looks like heâll just have to bite the bullet. He dreaded each moment as he quickly made an untitled group chat with the guys since you were added to their original one. He could only hope Taehyung wouldnât change the group chat name to something stupid.
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#yandere bts#soft yandere bts#bts fanfic#bts series#yandere jungkook#bts angst#bts fluff#poly bts au
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Baki Boyâs and a fearless/overly-outspoken s/o
Hi yâall! This is my very first headcanon and itâs something that just came to mind while insomnia decided sleep wasnât allowed. Some are going to have a S/O who speaks out and acts the way they do due to past feelings of restriction and inability to do so, and some are just personality traits in general so a small TW is in order I suppose. I hope you all like it!Â
Baki:Â
At first, he had no idea how to deal with that. He was used to Kozue who would only ever speak on her feelings when pressed for them, so when he saw his S/O immediately snap back at Yujiro for his comments and general way of being unprompted, he felt a bit of fear for their safety but also a swelling of pride began to grow in his chest.Â
He knew they were free spirited and spoke their mind from the beginning, what was apart of what drew Baki to them in the first place, but in the face of The Ogre?Â
He was shocked to say the least and every alarm in his head was going off to get them out of there before they ended up dead, but Yujiro simply laughed, smirked at his son and gave him a dark warning.
âDonât let them bark harder than you can bite, that might just be what puts them down.â
The longer that they spent together, the more accustomed to their general ease with saying whatever floated through their head at the time, and lack of care for the outcome of what was said/done.Â
This has lead to more than a few occasions where Baki has had to pick them up and sprint away from the situation to keep from having to beat someoneâs face into an unrecognizable pulp the second an advance was made in the direction of his S/O.
He comes to appreciate their honesty and finds it easier to be around them compared to other people due to the low probability of them hiding anything from him, and it being far easier for him to tell when something is wrong.
Will ask their opinions when making big decisions because he knows they have no fear going forward in life and will tell him their exact thought process regardless of whether it fits with what heâs wanting. To them, itâs whatâs best not what is wanted if youâre asking their opinion.
Would support them saying whatever is on their mind/heart, but worries for their safety when he isnât around to watch out for them.
Loves them for them regardless of if they lack the ability to keep their feelings to themselves while Baki himself is rather reserved.
Jack:
To say he was surprised to have this tiny (anything is compared to him-) individual he hadnât seen before snap at him for hogging the bench press during his routine workout at his favored gym would be an understatement.Â
The man was an absolute giant who towered over even the tallest of men and could easily break most in half, yet here this tiny firecracker was getting angry at him. An interesting development indeed.
From then on, he set out to make it his mission to get to know this unique person. For someone to get his eye off of getting stronger and defeating his father is an award all itâs own, but for him to actively chase them was an entirely different thing.Â
Does eventually win them over through a mixture of gentlemanly behavior and healthy sarcasm, while proving heâs a trustworthy person to hold their heart and guard it.
Jack found himself growing protective over them when he witnessed them exchanging heated words followed by blows over a dispute in a bar he miraculously found himself at the same time as them.
He decided that moment he was going to make them his, and he was going to keep them safe forever, especially from Yujiro.Â
Hundred percent would do his best to keep them separate, but Yujiro, being Yujiro, would find a way to make his sonâs life harder and intervene, belittling him in some way around his S/O and that would be the end of it.Â
Jack thought he had seen them go off before? Oh, no, no. Not when it came to someone they care about deeply. They started spewing every insult they could think of at the red-headed Hanma giant, feeling not an ounce of fear in their body- thatâs because all of it entered Jackâs the moment they opened their mouth.
Used every bit of endurance he built up to grab them and run as far as he could in as quick a pace as possible to get them to safety.Â
Knows thereâs no way he can change them, and that he wouldnât want to. Their outspokenness was what made him fall for them after all.Â
Katsumi:
This man has a thing for outspoken S/O who takes charge, he may seem like an alpha male but he would instantly fold the moment his beloved gives him the look. Is not to afraid to admit this and chalks it up to his love and respect for their opinions.Â
Instantly fell for them the moment they entered Shin Shin Kai in a full-blown fit, eyes raging, nostrils slightly flaring and sights set on a member of his class. Obviously they did something wrong, but when he approached to find out exactly what was going on as any teacher would, he was instantly shut down.Â
âIâm not here for you, so if you donât want your head bit off, Iâd stay the fuck out of my wayâ
Needless to say, he was intrigued at this type of response from someone so much smaller than him, in his own fatherâs dojo, and after a few more prodding questions and standing in the way of what they wanted, he got the answers he was wanting as to what was going on.Â
Being the relatively peaceful guy he was, Katsumi managed to calm down the situation while somehow getting a date out of the whole scenario.
 Everyone thought he was crazy for wanting to go out with someone as outspoken and rude like that, but he saw beyond that. He could see there was someone fearless and thoughtful under there, and he wanted to see what else was buried beneath the surface.Â
Man, was it worth it. They didnât fear anything it seemed, always willing to try new activities with Katsumi and his friends, be it new roller-coaster to cliff-jumping on their days off at the ocean, it didnât matter. They were always up for it, the acts seemingly bringing them closer each time.Â
He grew to love and respect them greatly, reminding them daily how much he admires their ability to speak their mind without fear and has no issue setting anyone straight regardless of who it is.
Would never admit it to their face or out loud but he really worries about them when heâs gone, knowing that not everyone can see the kind person they are inside and could easily take their words or actions the wrong way.
One of the few who actually trains his S/O in martial arts, even just the basics, to keep themselves safe when he isnât around.Â
Doyle:Â
Oh boy.Â
This idiot would be voted most likely to attempt to kill his S/O for opening their mouth about how he doesnât seem as tough as everyone is making him out to be.Â
Has the hardest time out of all of the men to adapt to having a S/O who speaks whatever comes in their mind and letting him know exactly what they think of his actions, good or bad. This is not something he is used to and not being able to just leave or kill the person saying it was something that was completely new to him.Â
Would be the definition of opposites attract. Doyle is known for being more reserved, keeps things to himself and generally reminds others of a cat with his observant and quiet behavior. In comes his lover who is open about her thoughts and feelings regardless of who asks, will shout and loudly express themselves when upset or frustrated, and is basically a dog personified.Â
Doyle catches himself watching their surroundings more cautiously when they go out due to not knowing exactly what is going to slip out of his lovers mouth, and being fully prepared to cut the tongue out of anyone who dared breath in their direction wrong.
Eventually he learns what will set off his S/O quicker and what is the best ways to calm them down when they are feeling like they need to be heard about a certain scenario.Â
Heâs a very observant man, and when spending nearly everyday with a person he cares for, he will swiftly find ways to make things easier for them without their noticing. He canât have them thinking he cares too much.Â
Around the other inmates or Yujiro Hanma is the only time Doyle feels any inclination of fear, prompting a fight, flight, or freeze response to which he typically chooses the middle option with his S/O in toe.Â
He would rather be viewed as a coward for fleeing with what is his than lose it because they donât have the ability to keep their damn mouth shut for someone looking at either of them wrong.Â
Would enjoy having a S/O who expresses what theyâre feeling, but would hope for one who had some sentiment of common sense so he didnât have to constantly worry.Â
Retsu:Â
Probably handles them the best out of all of the boys to be honest.Â
Is used to hotheaded and outspoken people himself already (*cough* Katsumi *cough*), while also having been one in his past, Retsu is the most suited to dealing with their outbursts and reckless actions due to a lack of fear.Â
Likely met his S/O while in Japan for the Maximum Tournament and overheard them going off in the distance about something that was a passion of theirs that they felt had been disrespected.Â
Retsu could relate given his overprotective nature in regards to his Chinese Kenpo, so when he saw them chest to chest, red-faced and still going at it while showing no signs of backing down, he knew he had to step in and defuse the situation before their beautiful/handsome face was ruined over an argument.
Has no problem with letting them rant and rave about things their passionate about or that bothered them throughout the day/week that they managed to hold in for Retsuâs sake.
Expresses his feeling the easiest out of the men except for possibly a tie with Baki, so makes it known that he worries for their safety and wants them to try their best to keep it together while theyâre apart, being rewarded with whatever treat they would like followed by cuddles and a venting session.Â
Comes up with different means for them to let out their frustrations with the world without having to blow up on everyone/everything that upsets them; i.e. gives them swearing coloring books to create art out of every swear word/insult they could think of.
Doesnât want his S/O to keep things inside or to change, he just simply wants them to learn there is a time and a place for going off about things youâre passionate about, but when faced with the strongest being in the world? That is not the time, and even someone like Retsu, who believed that nothing could beat Chinese Kenpo, could recognize that. Â
If things ever got heated out in public and his S/O began to argue with another person, donât think for a second that Retsu wouldnât break a manâs jaw for talking to his love with any kind of bass in their voice.
Loves and accepts his S/O for who they are, but is likely to help try and gently mother hen them into channeling that into a healthier outcome.Â
#baki headcanons#baki the grappler#katsumi orochi#retsu kaioh#baki hanma#jack hanma#doyle#headcanon#im sorry if this is bad#i tried#4 am posts
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Hopes and Dreams III
.I am not entirely sure about this chapter, if Iâm completely honest, so Iâll probably rewrite it at a later time. If you want to get added to the taglist just let me know! Thanks for your continuos support with this fic, it honestly gives me so much life right now! *** Chapter 3
âThere seem to still be a few things you havenât seen.â Lady Dimitrescu stated after you reached the sitting room.
âItâs not everyday that you see girls turn into a swarm of bugs. Iâve seen a lot, but I never said I have seen everything.â
âWhich brings me to the question that I want answered. What are you? My first guess would be that you are a vampire, like me and my daughters, but I have a feeling that that isnât true. Sit down please, so that I can take a look at your wound.â Her tone brooked no argument, so you did as you were told and rolled up the leg of your pants. You winced when you saw the true extend of the damage. Even with enhanced healing it would take a few hours to properly heal.
âMy biological father was a scientist, who researched a lot of occult and supernatural topics. He was also a massive asshole who thought it okay to experiment on his own baby daughter, so thereâs that. I donât know how, but someone he got his hands on the DNA of some creature no one really has a name for, but I have a guess. The only thing he really knew, was that they are like Vampires, but much more powerful.
He injected me with the DNA when I was four, but nothing happened, so I was deemed a failure. He did all kinds of tests on me, to see if the DNA would activate, but it didnât. At least not until he tried to kill me. I was no stranger to torture after he failed, but that night I knew he came to finish it. I was 10, and I was scared and angry, so much so, that something in me broke. There wasnât much left of him after I was finished.Â
Iâll spare you most of the details of what happened after, since it is not relevant for what you want to know, and I hate the feeling of being exposed when I donât know if I can trust the person in front of me. I ran away and my benefactor found me and took me in. I donât know how, but somehow, he knew what I had become, and he took it upon himself to make sure that I got the best training I could get. I can somewhat use my enhanced abilities, but I am not completely awakened. Iâll get to that part shortly.Â
After 6 years I was deemed ready to repay the favor and got sent on a hunt for rare artifacts, as I mentioned earlier. I was free to research my condition whenever the opportunity arose, and I did. I traveled the whole world, met all kinds of creatures and people, yet no one could help me with my predicament. That was until 8 months ago, when I found the first real clue. But that clue came with a price and I have been cursed.Â
I still donât have a name for the creature that I have become, but I found an old text that explained a lot to me. My kind wonât fully awaken until they bond themselves to another being, that has roughly the same power that we have. Thatâs where the curse made things more complicated: If I try to bond with anyone that isnât my destined mate, I will die. Slowly and painfully.Â
And if that isnât enough, the curse took the ability to sense my mate away from me, at least in the traditional sense. Usually, we will know our mate by smell alone, for their blood will sing to us like nothing else ever could. We would feel a strong pull towards them, and they to us, for our blood will be just as exquisite to them, as theirs is to us. The curse took that ability away from me, and now I am destined to walk the earth, waiting for my mate to find me.Â
Another side effect is what I call âboiling bloodâ. When I feel threatened enough it will activate and temporarily awaken me. I canât control it though, and that is the problem. It only happened once so far, and that was when someone I care a great deal for, got hurt. But I have it under control for the most part. I just donât like it when people I care about get hurt, I lost myself even before the curse happened. And I do understand if you deem me to dangerous and kick me out of the castle. You wouldnât be the first one.â You ended lamely and sighed. It always took a lot out of you when you talked about the past.Â
âYou mentioned that you have a theory about what exactly you are?â Alcina asked and gently patted your dressed wound. You suppressed the gentle shiver that wanted to roll down your body and said, âI think I am a Vampire, but one of the first generation.â
***
âAnd what makes you think that?â Alcina asked carefully. You pondered that for a moment, her eyes never leaving you. She could see that it took a toll on you to tell her all that, and she could understand that. Admitting what had happened couldnât be easy, especially when there was the possibility that you would be thrown out or worse. Alcina didnât plan on doing either of those things though, and she would tell you soon enough. An idea was forming in her head.
âI read a lot about vampires and had my fair share of encounters, none of them as nice as the one with you, so I figured it must be something like that. Whenever a Vampire turns someone, a miniscule part of their DNA gets implanted in the one theyâve turned. That is why your Maker will always be stronger than you. But since I got way more DNA with fathersâ experiments, it could mean that I am the first person who got turned into a Vampire of the first generation. And if not first, then second, which would still be infinitely more powerful than a Vampire of third or fourth generation. Although I canât be sure, since I destroyed everything that could give me a clue, when I killed my father.â You said silently, looking at the floor. Alcina couldnât help but feel pity for you. A bad hand was dealt to you, and you just tried to live your life. She also admired how strong and confident you were, even after all that had happened.
âI have an offer for you.â Alcina said and put two fingers under your chin to make you look at her, ignoring your blush.
âStay here. You have nowhere else to go, right? You fascinate me and I want to know more about your abilities if you are willing to show me. And I could use a hand to help me in the castleâs upkeep. But make no mistake, my dear. As soon as you show me that you become a threat, I will dispose of you. What do you say?â Alcina asked, but she knew your answer already. She could see it in the softening of your eyes and the spark of hope that flickered in your eyes. You gently nodded and gave her the most brilliant smile she had ever seen. Both of you briefly wondered where that feeling of trust came from, you more than Alcina, but for the moment it was enough.
***
A weird sense of coming home fell over you, when you looked into her eyes, that had gentled with your consent. She could probably kill you with a snap of her fingers, but somehow you got the feeling that she wouldnât. Most people feared you when you told them what you were, not all of them humans either. But she gave you the feeling of safety, no matter what your nature was, and you wondered. Could she be the one that was fated to be with you? Or was that just wishful thinking, because she showed you kindness where everybody else would only show you fear and hatred? You were immensely attracted to her, thatâs for sure, but could she be the one?Â
âI want to see the full extend of your abilities as fast as possible if you donât mind. If it is alright with you, I would arrange a little sparring session between you and my daughters.â Lady Dimitrescu said and took a seat on the chaise lounge in front of you.Â
âI wouldnât mind. It has been far too long since someone has offered me a challenge, so I will gladly accept, my Lady. My wound should be fully healed by tomorrow, so we can start first thing if youâd like,â you offered, eager to show her what you were capable of. Maybe she will keep you around for longer if you show her that you would be a valuable asset to her castle.
âI would like that very much, my dear. But now is time for you to eat and rest, as it is rather late. The day has been rather long and eventful, not just for you.â
âOf course, my Lady,â you smile and as if on cue, the door to the sitting room opened and one of the daughters entered the room with two plates. You hadnât even realized how hungry you were until the smell of the food hit your nostrils. The two of you ate in companionable silence, and soon enough it was time to leave her presence for the night.Â
The guest room she showed you was like nothing you have ever slept in before. You were used to all sorts of places to sleep, but never have you seen a bed so big and comfortable looking.
âGood Night, my dear. I hope you sleep well,â Lady Dimitrescu said and left you to your own devices before you could answer her. You dressed down to your tank top and shorts and fell into a peaceful slumber as soon as your head hit the pillow.
***
When you next opened your eyes, you were surrounded by the familiar darkness of your dreamscape, yet something felt different. You could sense a presence at the edge pf your consciousness and soon enough, a gentle voice spoke to you âSo you finally found her.â
âHuh?â you asked into the darkness, chills running down your spine. The voice giggled and a shadow crept into the edge of your vision, which soon turned into a girl, that oddly enough, had somewhat of a resemblance to you.
âWho are you?â
âYouâll have to find that our for yourself. But what matters is, that you have finally found her. My Alcina,â the girl said and looked close to tears, although she was still smiling.
âDonât get me wrong, but I donât think that Lady Dimitrescu belongs to anyone.â You said, defensive of the Lady. That made the girl laugh again, and you couldnât get over the fact that she looked so much like yourself.
âYou are right. But she was mine, as I was hers, a long time ago. Listen, the castleâs magic is strong, but not strong enough to give me enough time to explain everything. Just trust me, okay? Stay by her side, no matter what. Protect her. But most important: Take care of yourself. She lost us too many times already, but maybe you are the one that will break this hellish circle.âÂ
âI-I donât understand!â you said desperately, trying to reach for the girl, but she was already fading.
âWe will speak to each other again when the time is right. Until then, remember my words. Please protect her. Do what we couldnât do and survive.â Were her parting words before you awoke, drenched in cold sweat. What the fuck was that?
But no matter how hard you tried to grasp at your dream and its implications, you felt your consciousness fading and fell back into a deep slumber.
***** Taglist: @imdreamingblo @x-x-trixxster-k-m-w-x-x
#lady dimitrescu x reader#alcina dimitrescu x reader#lady dimitrescu#alcina dimitrescu#bela dimitrescu#daniela dimitrescu#cassandra dimitrescu
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19 Years Later... (Darth Vader x reader miniseries chapter 1)
19 years have passed since Y/nâs husband Anakinâs death, and she has become the leading General of the newly founded Rebellion alongside her past Jedi friend Obi-Wan Kenobi, now known as Ben Kenobi. When her children Luke and Leia Skywalker gets kidnapped by Darth Vader, the man who killed her husband; her and Obi-Wan Kenobi must come rescue her. But when she finds out whoâs behind Darth Vaderâs mask, the truth is something she never thought she had to prepare herself for.
ââââââ
Index:
1. prologue
2. chapter 1
3. chapter 2 [Coming soon]
wc: 2.3k
warnings: cursing
ââââââ
Being the leader of the new Rebellion against the evil Galactic Empire had its perks. One of the things that was not a perk, however, was hiding oneâs actual name from their people, and past.
None of Y/nâs rebels knew of her past as a former Jedi Knight that fought in the Clone Wars. Though she fought like a cunning warrior, the thought had never once crossed their minds, seeing as all the Jedi were dead.
She had raised her children Luke and Leia with Obi-Wanâs guidance to be trained as Jedi, seeing as both of them were very Force-Sensitive.
Watching Luke wield his fatherâs lightsaber brought such bittersweet feelings to both old Jedi Knights. Anakin was such a big part of both of their lives, that it was almost painful to see this without him there.
Anakin would be beyond proud of his son and daughter, for sure.
Y/n recalled the first time he and Leia held their lightsabers. They were both 9, the same age their Father was when he was brought him by Qui-Gon Jyn from Tattooine.
Luke had rushed up to Obiâs old trunk excitedly, admiring the strange silver object with big eyes as Leia crowded behind him, âWhatâs that, Uncle Obi?â
âThis is your fatherâs lightsaber, my dear. He wouldâve wanted you to have it,â Obi replied, a sad smile on his face as he held onto the hilt, activating its stellar blue glow.
âThis is the weapon of a Jedi Knight. Not as clumsy or random as a blasterââ Obi handed it to Luke and his eyes widened, waving it around gently so he didnât break it. ââan elegant weapon for a more civilized age.â
âIs it mine?â Lukeâs eyes beamed in excitement. Obi-Wan nodded, sitting down as he picked up Leia, putting her on his knee.
âFor over a thousand generations, the Jedi were the guardians of peace and justice. The old republic. Before the Empire...â he trailed off, turning his head towards the window.
Y/n rushed into the room, hearing the lightsaber and fearing there was an intruder, âObi-Wan! Whatâs going on, Iâmââ she ignited her brilliant (l/c) saber, holding it in a protective stance before she realized it was just Luke. She sighed heavily and disengaged her saber, attaching it back to her belt loop, âObi, you didnât tell me you were doing this now...â she crossed her arms.
âMom! Obi-Wan told me this was Dadâs! Look!â he started swinging it gently, making sure it didnât hit anyone since he knew how deadly they could be. She began to smile sadly as she remembered a young Anakin as a padawan, rushing in to show her his lightsaber he constructed the day he finally got one.
She smiled sadly, tears welling up in her eyes. âYou look so much like your father, Luke,â she said sadly. Obi looked back at Luke, and for a split moment, he was reminded of the small slave his old master brought back with him. He smiled to himself remembering how he helped Anakin with his padawan braid.
âPrincess, come here. Iâll let you hold my lightsaber, okay?â she handed Leia her saber gently, and she took gingerly from her hand. Leia took it and igniting it, the bladeâs glow reflecting in her excited little eyes.
âMom? How did dad die? You never answered me,â Luke asked. Y/n felt herself freeze in place, a large lump in her throat forming. âLuke, I...â
âIâll tell them, Y/n,â Obi-Wan replied solemnly. âYour father was killed by a young Jedi named Darth Vader. He was a close friend of mine before he fell. He helped the Emperor hunt down and destroy the Jedi Knights. He betrayed and murdered your father.â The room fell silent, until Luke asked another question, âSo you and Uncle Obi are the last remaining Jedi?â
Obi-Wan shook his head no, âThere are others, but sparse. To name a few, Master Yoda and Ahsoka Tano, your fatherâs Padawan learner. The last remaining Jedi are being hunted down by Vader, which is why we hide.â
Leia spoke up softly, âIs that why we donât use our actual last name, mommy?â
âYes, sweetheart. As long as Vaderâs reign continues, we must hide our names. Darth Vader does not know about the two of you, so you are safe. For us, on the other hand...â she trailed off, and the kids understood.
âMom... Mom,â Leia spoke loudly. Y/n blinked in confusion and turned back around, looking at her daughter, âYeah, my love?â
âAre you okay mom?â Leia asked, frowning. âWe need to look at the Death Star plans.â
âRight,â she sighed heavily, turning to face from the window out looking Yavin 4. âIâm fine, princess. I just... was remembering Anakin, thatâs all.â Leia sighed and laid her hand on her motherâs back, rubbing it gently, âDad would be proud of everything youâve done, mom.â She began to tear up as she pulled Leia into a tight hug, âI hope so. Itâs been about 20 years and it still doesnât feel right,â silent tears fell down her cheeks into her daughterâs bunned hair.
âIâm proud of you, Leia. If you were to be trained within the Order now, youâd be the same age your father was when he became a Jedi Knight, and when he married me...â she sniffled, wiping her tears. Leia smiled softly, holding her momâs hand, âDo you think heâd be proud of me, too?â
âI know he would,â she rubbed her fingertips against hers, âHe would pull you into the tightest hug, spin you a little and say softly, âThatâs my baby girl,ââ she replied, her voice cracking slightly. Leia began to tear up as she hugged her back, âI wish I knew him...â she said softly. âI wish so too, babe, so bad...â Y/n sighed. But I wonât let his memory be in vain. Letâs go look at these plans and destroy that Death Star, yeah?â
Leia and Y/n walked to the main board room, seeing how the map was already up on display. âGeneral Jonas, weâve been examining the Death Star plans. Theyâre on screen now,â one of her commanding officers recited. âGood, thank you, officer. Have we discovered a weak point yet? Or at least some form of entry point?â
âNo, maâam. We havenât studied long enough. There are many ways in, but all most likely heavily guarded. We will have to find a way to go under the radar without getting detected, somehow,â he replied. She nodded, walking closer to examine it. She closed her eyes and felt out through the Force for some answer. No surprise to her, she could barely feel anything at all but an empty void. Ever since Anakin had died, she had felt more distanced from the Force than ever. Maybe she and Anakin possessed a rare Dyad, or maybe she had simply lost touch with the Force; but no matter what she did, she was nowhere near as powerful in the Force as she used to be.
âAlert me if you find anything, Officer, I would love to have this Death Star in shambles by the end of the month,â Y/n left to walk out and to ask Obi-Wan on the matter. âYes, maâam,â he responded, turning back to his computer to get back to work.
Elsewhere, Leia was pacing in Lukeâs room, grumbling to herself, âI know Obi-Wan has taught us to not let our emotions guide us, but I canât when it comes to him. He killed our father, he should be dead!â Leia huffed in anger, collapsing down onto her twinâs bed.
Luke grunted in response, his mouth full of food still, âItâs not like you can take him on yourself. Youâd die!â he said, or at least, sounded like he said. âI will not let the lives of those lost who got us the plans in the first placeâs memories die. We wouldnât be this close to planning an attack without their sacrifices. Moreover, Mom has had these plans for two days now, and she hasnât done a single thing about it!â Leia responded quickly. Luke shrugged, âLeia. Be real. Itâs not like we can steal a ship and fly to the Death Star, find itâs a weak point, and get back in time for dinner.â
Leia sat up, looking at Luke as if he had just committed mass murder. â...What?â Luke asked warily. Leia grinned, âThatâs it! Weâll do just that, Luke! Weâll take one of momâs ships, fly around the death star undetected and find weak entry points, and get back like we were never even gone!â
âLeia, you can not be serious right now!â Luke gasped, setting his food down, âWe canât do this, we could get in so much trouble! Or spotted!â
âDo you want to sit idly while our mother and uncle do nothing, whereas our Fatherâs murderer is out on the lose on that moon!â Leia snapped at him. He narrowed his eyes, âThatâs no moon, Leia. Also, no, I donât! But do we have a choice? No. Weâre staying here.â
âNo, weâre leaving. Whether I go alone is up to you entirely, but at this point, I just want the man who killed my father dead,â Leia said, glaring at him. Luke huffed, âYou think I donât want him dead, too? But we are children, we literally canât do anything!â
âWe are 19 years old and I donât know about you, but I donât want to sit at home here and wait for Vader to kill more innocent people,â Leia frowned, crossing her arms. âI really need you with me, Luke. But I get it if you donât go.â she stood up, grabbing her stuff to leave when Luke grumbled âWait!â under his breath. âIâll... go. Just to protect you. But this is a bad idea, and I donât want to get caught,â he raised a brow to her. Leia grinned and hugged Luke tightly, âThank you, thank you! You wonât regret this! But bring your lightsaber maybe, just in case?â
ââââââ
âWhat do you mean, YOU LET THEM GO?â Y/n snapped to C3-PO, enraged. Threepio raised his hands in defense, âI couldnât stop them, mistress! I tried my best, I swear!â
âYou let my children go confront Vader ALONE? Youâre so lucky I donât shut you down for that!â she growled, shoving past him with Obi-Wan following close behind her. âOh, dear. Iâm doomed,â Threepio whined.
âWe have to go after them, we... I canât... I canât lose my kids,â Y/n said nervously, starting to pace once Obi got close. âY/n, calm down sweetheart. I need you to breathe and think,â Obi said, holding onto her shoulders gently. âIf we go, we have an equal chance of being caught since theyâll already be on high alert.â
She sighed heavily, shaking her head, âI hate you for being so levelheaded and smart, Obi,â she frowned. âThatâs my specialty,â he winked. âNow, we need to stop and make sure that we can pull this rescue off without risking our lives, too.â
Meanwhile, at the Death Star, Vader was summoned by his leading captain because of an alert of an enemy ship flying nearby. âBring them in, search them. They may know General Jonas.â âYes, My Lord.â
Vader turned to leave the bridge towards the docking bay, to meet his guests personally. As he walked, his mind was filled with visions and memories from his dream the night before. Of her.
He sighed heavily, picking up speed as he neared the docking bay. Passing a group of stormtroopers, he pushed past them to be in front, crossing his arms. The door opened, and two stormtroopers walked out holding a young girl and boy, yelling at them to let go of them.
As soon as Vader looked at the two, he felt something... strange. A certain presence in the Force he had never felt before. What is this? Why do they feel familiar?
Vader dropped his arms, walking forward and raising his hand to stop the troopers, âWho are you? And why were you near my Death Star?â
His unmerciful, robotic voice rumbled through their chests, terrifying them. In all their years, they had never seen something so cold and unforgiving. âDonât be petrified, answer me if you want to live,â Vader challenged, staring right at the boy.
âYou killed our father,â Leiaâs voice was cold, sad, and broken. She knew this was a bad idea, but it was too late now. âI wanted revenge.â
âYouâll have to forgive me, my princess, but Iâve killed many men. Your father was just another tick on my list, whoever he may be.â
âYou son of aâ!â Luke yelled, rushing to jump at him when the stormtroopers all turned their weapons on him, making him stop. Vader growled, âInsolent children. I donât think you know who I am, truly. Iâd crush you in a heartbeat, but seeing as you could have something of use to me... take them away, both of them,â Vader commanded. The two shouted in disagreement, and Vader simply stood and watched them struggle.
âYou bitch! Youâll pay for what you did to our dad!â Luke yelled as he was taken away. Vader rolled his eyes from under the mask and walked back to his quarters. He knelt on the floor, taking his mask off as he called out to his Emperor through the force.
âWhat do you want, Lord Vader?â Palpatine growled, looking down at Vaderâs hologram. âI felt something through the Force a few moments ago. My new hostages... they seem to be strong with it.â
âReally? Are you sure, my apprentice?â
âYes, Master. More sure than anything.â
âWell, you know what you must do. Kill them. They could be Jedi if they tried opposing you,â Palpatine smirked. âTheyâre only children, which means theyâre newer Jedi. Someone had to have trained them.â
âChildren never stopped you before, donât let it stop you now. Do it.â
â...Yes, my Master.â Vader ended the holomessage, sighing.
âWho are you two...?â he asked himself, reaching out through the Force and feeling they were still there.
Strange.
ââââââ
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butterfly effect: one
His mouth is slightly ajar, surely shocked to be seeing the girl of his past so far from where he had left her. I myself try to compute what I am seeing, but my brain is running so fast from the adrenaline, the gravity of what is occurring hardly registers.
Itâs Harry, and heâs here and the two of you need to get out of there right now.
Word Count: 6k+
Includes: mob!h, mentions of blood, scary dudes late at night, and the set up for my favourite story Iâve ever written!
A/N: guys I am so excited about this story! I swear writing this is the only thing holding me together (so donât let it flop lmao). It is 2AM pray for me.
My inbox is open for anyone who wants to chat about this series! I love to gab, and constructive criticism is very much appreciated. I want this to be as good as possible!!
butterfly effect masterlist // my masterlist
now
It is not until it is already too late that I realise I should have just ordered an uber.
Alex was very insistent that I order one home from my late shift at the pub. He had even offered to split the cost, knowing without needing to ask this was the cause of my hesitation. It wasnât that I couldnât afford it. Strictly speaking, I could. I was just keenly aware of the amount of material I could buy with the amount a late night uber in London would cost me. I would never take him up on his offer. He needed the money just as much as I did.
âItâs okay, Iâm good for it,â I gave him a little smile. He was sitting in front of his mirror in his room, midway through getting ready for work. I had simply come to say goodbye before I left for my shift when he had grabbed me by the hand and demanded I ordered an uber home.
âBabe, you have to promise me.â
âI promise!â I stared exaggeratedly into his eyes as I spoke, emphasising my honesty.
In that moment, I made peace with the money I would be losing from my fabric budget. I calculated this budget, of course, by subtracting living expenses from my weekly income. My best friend wanted to make sure I got home safe, wanted the peace of mind while he was working that I would be fine. Who was I to say no to that?
âMake sure you text me when you get into the uber and once you make it up to the apartment.â My chest flooded with warmth at the love and care in his voice. It was moments like these I really sat back and thanked my lucky stars that Alex was in my life.
So, of course I was just going to bite the bullet and order the uber. Of course.
Except, well.
I couldnât help but think how quickly I got from our place to work. We had picked the apartment just one short month ago, heavily considering the advantage of its walking distance to my work. The Kingâs Arms was just one block up and down the road. It was barely a fifteen-minute walk. Shorter than that if I took the shortcut down the alleyway back to our block, saving me from walking further down the road and looping back around. It would probably take me longer to get home via uber, once you account for the time spent waiting for it to arrive.
A ten-minute walk home wouldnât kill me, surely.
The contemplation was pushed from my mind for the duration of my busy Saturday night shift. It was my least favourite shift of the week, as I spent each week chasing after middle aged men getting rowdy in the excitement of watching whatever sport was on TV. The Kingâs Arm was small, but it was a local favourite known for its homey pub meals, reasonably priced pints and good atmosphere. Much to my contempt they didnât keep a large staff pool, preferring a smaller, well-trained, reliable bunch. Which was great in theory until it left me to run around like my hair is on fire on a night as busy as tonight.
I was capable of serving everyone well and in a timely manner, but it wasnât exactly a stroll in the park. More like a seven-hour long sprint, with a half hour break in the middle.
As the final game for the night ended, the crowd slowly but surely thinned until just a couple of small groups remained.
âHey y/n, are you okay to lock up by yourself if I head home in five?â my manager, Rachel asked me half an hour before close. âI have some time I need to take back,â she added in explanation.
âOf course, you go get out of here.â I knew she wasnât lying when she said she had some time to take back, putting in all sorts of extra hours to keep the place in tip top shape. I liked Nicola, and I had certainly been working there long enough to handle a couple of customers and lock up by myself. Even if I didnât like Rachel and thought she was slacking off, I couldnât exactly argue. She was both my boss and the ownerâs daughter, probably not far off becoming the owner herself.
âAre you sure?â She asked, eyeing the few men still seated, probably triple checking she didnât think they were any kind of threat.
âYes,â I laughed, ânow scram, before I change my mind.â
âAlright if you insist,â she said, already making her way towards her bag.
âRing me if you need anything! Good night!â She called over her shoulder as she exited through the kitchen door. The cook had gone home ten minutes earlier, the pub serving only drinks the hour before close at midnight.
âNight!â I called back.
I made quick work of what little cleaning there was left to do, and gently reminded the remaining patrons we closed in half an hour. To my surprise they were agreeable and friendly, one of them instantly assuring me, âDonât worry love weâll be out of your hair soon, wonât make you stay back late.â
Usually the kind of people that were in the pub this late had no care for closing time, believing that pertained simply to whenever they decided they wanted to leave.
True to his word, everyone was out with ten minutes to spare and I was able to clean their dishes and tables with the remaining time they had granted me. I locked the door to The Kingâs Arms at 12 oâclock on the dot and riding the high of such an easy close, took not a moment in deciding I was in fact going to walk home.
To Alex: Just ordered an uber!
I felt guilty lying, but I would rather lie than have Alex worrying over nothing. I would be home in a flash, keys secured firmly in between my knuckles the whole way. I felt far safer on the move than waiting out the front of work for an uber anyway.
I kept a fast pace, left only to debate whether I took my shortcut or stuck to the street. I checked over my shoulder, and seeing absolutely no one around, made a quick right turn into the alleyway between two buildings.
I grabbed my phone from my back pocket as I heard the ding of a text notification. I glance down at my screen, reading as I walk.
From Alex: Amazing! I should be home in a couple hours, text me when you get home safe. Love you x
I donât register the hushed growling tones as I continue making my way down the alley, still looking down at my phone as I type a simple âlove youâ in reply. It isnât uncommon to hear the conversations of tenants on the lower levels of these apartment buildings as you walk down the street. Walls are thin and many windows generally left open. It is easy to consign this particular conversation among the other non-threatening city sounds until I eventually look back up from my phone.
I am immediately faced with a most unfavourable scene, under the single light that illuminates this alley, are the two men who I now recognise to be the source of the argument I had barely registered. The first man is tall, dressed in all black, thick muscles protruding through his t-shirt. He towered over the second man who contrasted him starkly in his bright red adidas tracksuit. The tall manâs presence would be dominating the space, even if he didnât have his dark forearm pressed firmly against the smaller manâs throat.
I clamp a hand over my mouth, stopping myself from yelping stupidly and drawing attention to myself. They havenât noticed my presence. A witness to whatever it was that was occurring here.
âSee all Iâm hearing is excuses, bruv,â the tall manâs accent is distinctly that of someone from South London. His tone is aggressive, but even. He knows he has the upper hand and it is clearly not his first rodeo threatening people. This is exactly the kind of person I couldâve avoided encountering by simply ordering an uber.
I snap out of my shocked daze and start to turn to make a swift and stealthy departure. Iâm no fool. I know there is a definitive gang presence around here. I also know, if you leave them alone, they too shall (hopefully)leave you. All hopes of making such an exit are of course foiled as soon as my foot connects with an empty beer bottle on my first step.
The two menâs heads snap towards me instantly. I expect the shorter man to ask for help, to say something, but his mouth remains clamped shut. Gang business. He is in a bigger mess than someone like me can ever save him from. The taller manâs eyes narrow. After the briefest moments of standing there frozen, caught, I spin on my heel and run as fast as my feet can carry me.
I run back to the route I should have taken, cursing myself all the way for being naĂŻve enough to believe that nothing bad could happen to me on something as simple as a walk home from work. That women who were raped, kidnapped and murdered from off the street were somehow removed from me. That was something only on the news in my world. Not something that was possibly about to occur.
My heart hammers in my chest as I make the split-second decision, I am safer running all the way home than running as far as I can from the scene of the crime. Iâm going to run all the way up the stairs to my fifth-floor apartment, and I am going to lock the door behind me. I turn the corner back up to my block, not slowing down for a second.
I am so quick in fact, that as I come flying around the next corner towards my apartment, I nearly barrel straight into someone. He was clearly walking with some pace too, because he narrowly prevents us crashing into each other head on, but he is a second too slow in his reaction time because I trip straight over his feet. I hardly even see him, even as I am falling straight over him. All I see is brown hair and a dark suit before Iâm staring straight at the pavement flying towards my face. I barely manage to throw my forearms out to break my fall as I hit the pavement at speed.
âJesus,â the man mutters, but the only thing I can hear is my heavy breathing and my own blood pounding in my ears.
Iâm on the ground now, I register for a second before my flight response kicks back in.
I donât even feel the sting of the scrapes with the adrenaline coursing through me, already attempting to scramble up and get as far away as possible from this stranger. âIâm so sorry!â I manage to call as I pick myself and my keys up, gearing up to get moving once more.
âHoney?â
No. It absolutely could not possibly be. There was only one person on this planet who had ever called me by that name.
I stop dead in my tracks. That voice. Itâs deeper than I remember but undoubtedly familiar. Familiar seems too simple a word. That voice had echoed around the halls of my brain for years. Even now, six years later, it was not gone but buried, waiting for a simple trigger to spark my memory and bring that beautiful sound back to the forefront my mind. Some days I swear I remembered it like I had just heard it moments ago.
Except now, I really had heard him.
Slowly, I turned to face him.
His mouth is slightly ajar, surely shocked to be seeing the girl of his past so far from where he had left her. I myself try to compute what I am seeing, but my brain is running so fast from the adrenaline, the gravity of what is occurring hardly registers.
Itâs Harry, and heâs here and the two of you need to get out of there right now.
Before he can verbalise any of the questions on the tip of his tongue, I grab his hand in my own, and yank him forward as I continue running home.
Realistically, I know that we now outnumber whoever it was that may be coming after me and I know even six years since Iâve last seen him, I am always safe with Harry. He proved that in many ways, and more than once, while I knew him. I was not, however, willing to risk the tall man pulling a knife on Harry. I didnât even want to put him in a situation where it was a battle of fists. Though I did know from experience he could more than hold his own.
âWhatâs going on?â he yells as we run down the street, rapidly approaching the exit of the alleyway I had fled.
I gradually reduce our pace until we are speed-walking past the alleyway. Tempted as I am to see if they are still there, I keep my eyes trained forward, praying they arenât there watching us as we pass by.
As soon as we have cleared it, Iâm straight back to my running pace, forcing Harry to accelerate speed once more.
âIâll explain inside,â I call over my shoulder in answer to his earlier question.
Now that I felt a degree safer with Harryâs presence, I had the capacity to feel thankful I had opted for a boiler suit and converse for tonight to accommodate for the Saturday night rush. This run would have been hell if I had worn a skirt and a heeled boot instead.
âInside where?â Heâs laughing as he speaks and as the fear loosens its grip on me, the dĂ©jĂ vu begins to battle for dominance. That laugh had brightened my every day for long enough to leave a mark on my soul. Fleeting as it was, that single sound reignited the shine it had once left.
His question was answered when we came to a screeching halt in front of my apartment. It took me two tries to input my security code correctly, my brain and hands both moving quickly, but not quite matching up. Eventually, the door clicked, and I was able to swing it open, tugging Harry in after me.
I didnât stop dragging him along behind me until we had taken all five flights of stairs up to my apartment two at a time.
ây/nâŠâ he attempted to grab my attention when we first entered the building, but I was not to be deterred until we had reached the absolute safety of my apartment. I shushed him, not wanting to receive a noise complaint from my new neighbours. I supposed having such a thought was a good sign, my consciousness beginning to register it was not in any imminent danger.
I huffed and puffed as we landed at the doorstep of apartment 5B, the place I loved to call home. Harry, I noticed, was barely short of breath. He had always been a runner when we were in high school. I wondered if he kept up the habit even now.
My hands shook as I located the correct key on my chain, body still shaking from the excitement of the events of the past five minutes. I struggled to align the key with the lock with my left hand, unthinking of the fact my right was still firmly in Harryâs hold.
âLet me,â he murmured, already moving his right hand to take the key. I said nothing, simply surrendering it over to him.
His hands were steady as anything as he turned the key, granting us entrance into my home. I released a breath I didnât realise I had been holding. I finally stopped just past the door, my back to Harry as he shut it behind him. I took a few deep breaths, trying so desperately to ground myself.
Was any of this even real? The sketchy characters I could believe in a heartbeat, Harry Stylesâ presence, however, was harder to grasp.
But there his hand was, in my own, even if I couldnât see him.
Harry stood back and let me take this moment to myself, keenly aware of how much I needed it. He knew I needed to take pause and re-centre myself otherwise I would only shut down. He was also aware of my injured state though, even if I wasnât.
ây/n, youâre bleeding.â
âOh,â my head snapped back to look at my arm. In the rush to get home, the blood from the scrapes on my arm had run down my arm and dripped into our connected hands. I quickly released my grasp on him. âJesus, Iâm sorry.â
âA little bit of blood never hurt anyone,â he quickly dismissed. âUnless youâre the one thatâs bleeding, in which case you better get cleaned up as soon as possible.
âLuckily you have me here to play nurse. Just lead the way to the nearest bathroom,â he gave me a little cheeky grin, clearly trying to lift your spirits. The subtle playfulness is not as natural as it once was, but it is certainly reminiscent of our old dynamic. The surrealism of this whole thing goes straight to my head, clouding my ability to form full, coherent thoughts.
Somehow, I manage to come out with, âI think you mean our only bathroom,â in response.
He grunts a laugh, but he hasnât missed the use of the word our.
I walk like a zombie, leading him through the hallway past the living room and the kitchen to the bathroom. I hold my forearms up in an attempt to redirect the flow of the blood and prevent it from dripping from my fingertips onto the floor. As I slowly came out of survival mode, my awareness of the stinging of my forearms became increasingly prominent. I was sure my hip and knees were going to be bruised pretty badly too. I really hadnât managed to slow down at all before all my momentum came crashing into the cement.
âDo you have a first aid kit?â He asks upon our arrival to the bathroom.
âUnder the sink.â
My eyes trail over the mess Alex and I had left in our rush to get ready.
I tend to procrastinate getting ready for as long as possible, busying myself with just about anything else. Generally, it will be tidying up the mess Iâve made during the day, only for me to create a whole new one in my hurry to get ready for my shift on time. Alex on the other hand, always leaves plenty of time to perfect his look before leaving for the night. Despite having the time to do so, he never cleans as he goes. Leaving his many products and deliberated outfits spread far and wide. Luckily most of his mess was confined to his bedroom, the only trace of him in the bathroom skincare and hair products (though there wasnât a limited amount of those, either).
âIâm sorry for the mess,â I speak quietly watching Harry get his bearings, standing helplessly as I bled, hands still raised.
âNonsense,â he doesnât look at me as he speaks, jumping into action.
Harry turns the faucet on in the sink before opening the cupboard door and grabbing the first aid kid out. It was actually sort of a miracle Alex and I had one. It had been on a list of âThings You Need for a New Apartmentâ I had googled, scared we were missing important things. At the time, I had deliberated longer than necessary over whether to get one. I couldnât remember the last time I had required anything more than a band aid for any given ailment. The deciding factor had been the memory of Alex getting into a couple of scrapes while out over the years. It had never been anything major, the worst injury he ever sustained being a bruised jaw, but it was better to be safe than sorry, I decided.
Turns out, that decision was for the best.
He gently touches his fingertips to my right arm, which had copped the brunt of it. With the softest touch, he delicately guided my arm under the stream of water. As I stepped forward to lean over the sink and wash away the dirt of the footpath, he stepped backwards, giving me my space.
I winced at the initial contact of the water as it ran red. I risked a glance at my reflection. Sweaty brow, the light lazy work makeup I had applied half off my face. I quickly diverted my gaze back to my injured arm. This was not exactly how I pictured our reunion. I had hardly ever even pictured it, I was so sure that I would never see Harry again.
I wondered if this silence was as heavy as I thought it was. Everything about him felt so familiar, yet so different. Up until this moment it felt like being in the presence of a friend, but now I realised, he was closer to a stranger.
I knew the person he once was, a sweet but fucked up kid who had been forced to become a man too early. Someone who had his walls a mile high around almost everyone. Almost. The boy who painted his nails on lunch breaks and was friends with everyone but somehow also no one. Until he was friends with me. Then he was the boy who always sat to my left from the first bell of the school day to the last. Back then, I knew him from the inside out, just as he knew me.
He was my greatest joy of those years. Then he was my greatest heartbreak. Now, he was just some guy I used to know who I had plucked straight up off the street, looking very out of place in what was clearly a designer suit in my tiny apartment.
He looked through the first aid kit as I ensured the entirety of the scrape was rinsed. It extended most of the way from my elbow to my wrist, but more pressingly in my mind, it now stung like a bitch. Once the water rain clear as it ran off my arm, I moved onto the much smaller and shallower scrape on my left elbow, working quickly to get it clean.
Most of the bleeding had stopped, only a few spots on my right arm still dotting with blood. I leaned over the sink to prevent the water from dripping onto the floor.
I cleared my throat, nervous to break the silence.
âCan you please grab me that towel?â I nodded my head towards the black hand towel hung behind Harry.
His eyes snapped upwards from the first aid kit he had been busying himself with. I was sure he had been surveying it more thoroughly than strictly necessary, trying to detract from the awkward energy which had crept up on us. We made brief eye contact through the mirror. My breath caught in my throat. The moment was over as soon as it began as he turned wordlessly to grab the towel.
He holds it in his hand, hesitating before handing it over, âDid you want me toâŠ?â he trails off, growing awkward in his offer. He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. She barely knows you, back off, he tells himself.
âNo thatâs okay,â I speak gently, and he quickly passes the towel to me. I get to work patting my arms down delicately.
âThank you though,â I add, hating the unsure look on his face. I meet his eye, giving him a smile I hope is reassuring.
âOkay, letâs get you sitting down so I can fix you up,â he returns your smile with a slight upturn of the right side of his mouth.
I relocate to the little dining table Alex and I had bought at Ikea just a week prior. Harry isnât far behind, washing his hands before joining me to tend to my wounds. He lays out everything he is going to need from the first aid kit before holding his hand out. Like an idiot, I stare at his hand without moving for a beat too long before jerkily offering my right arm up.
He laughs silently as he turns my arm over, analysing it carefully.
âSo, do you often go for runs at midnight?â He asks as he unscrews the lid on the Vaseline.
âYeah all the time. I just donât normally take people from the street with me.â
âIs that all I am? A person on the street?â He tries to keep his tone light, but I can tell he was hurt by my choice of words.
I expect to feel guilty, but a burst of anger I thought I had long gotten over flares in my chest. It isnât as red hot and overwhelming as it had been years before â Iâd definitely had my fair share of time to cool off â but Iâm still surprised by the sting of it.
He was the one that made himself a stranger to me, and now heâs upset when Iâm stating the fact that he made a reality.
Despite myself, I tried not to come across too harshly in my response. I was never one for confrontation.
âI mean, I havenât heard from you in six years.â
He is very careful not to lift his eyes from my injuries as he carefully applies the petroleum jelly. I stare down at him, desperate to catch his eye.
Thereâs a pause as I wait for him to offer some kind of explanation. Some perfectly good reason why my best friend and first love left town without telling me why, or where he was going, and then never contacted me again.
When he doesnât fill the silence, I sigh as quietly as I can manage. You donât really know him, I remind myself. I practically kidnapped him, I canât just go asking him to rehash history. It was so clear that he was what he had wanted me to be. History.
âI just mean, I donât really know you anymore. Iâm sorry I grabbed you like that, I just,â I hissed at the sting of his first aid, âI was walking home from work and I saw these really sketchy looking guys.â
âSketchy looking?â He finally looked up at me, raising an eyebrow questioningly.
âWell I guess they didnât really look sketchy in their appearance particularly, it was more the fact that one of them was practically choking the other. They were arguing over something. I think it was something to do with some of the gangs around here,â I attempted a nonchalant tone, not wanting to worry him. The less phased I seemed, the better. I had caused him enough trouble. The only thing that was probably stopping him from running for the hills and never looking back (again) was guilt.
I go on to explain how Iâd kicked that stupid beer bottle and taken off running, âwhich is when I ran into you. Iâm really sorry about that, by the way. Iâm so glad I didnât take you down with me I think I wouldâve died of a mix of guilt and embarrassment right then and there.â
âIt wasnât your fault, Ho-âhe cut himself before his mouth could form that name he had so affectionately given you. âIâm the one who feels guilty, if not for my big, slow feet you wouldnât have bit the dust.â I laugh at his turn of phrase.
His face suddenly grows serious. âYour head is okay, right?â
Instinctively, my left hand shoots up to the back of my head, ghosting over the slight bump hidden under my hair. The scar tissue was ever so minimally raised, only perceptible to a knowing touch. I retract my hand bashfully, slightly embarrassed by my knee jerk reaction.
âItâs fine,â I match his serious tone, before lightening it up, âas you can see, I managed to break most of my fall,â I gesture to my right arm he has paused work on.
He holds my gaze for a moment longer, discerning whether he thinks I am downplaying anything. He picks up the dressing, moving onto the next phase of his treatment plan.
âAnd they donât feel broken? You can move your wrists okay without too much pain?â
My heart swells at his concern. I stamp out the small joy as soon as it flared up. Itâs guilt thatâs fuelling him. Nothing else.
I shake my head no. He looks up once more, having missed the gesture in his concentration. âSorry! No. All bumps and bruises. Iâm fine honestly, I probably majorly overexaggerated the whole thing and freaked out for nothing. Iâm really sorry about all this, its so late at night.â
âDonât apologise,â he says firmly. âItâs not your fault and you did exactly the right thing by making a break foâ it. You never know what couldâve happened. Yaâ know. Out late. By yourself. In the dark.â
My face burned red with shame, but also defiance. I knew what I did was stupid and extremely risky, but I also didnât think I needed a lecture about it in this moment. The fear still coursing through me and my scraped-up arms were surely lesson enough.
âI could say the same thing to you,â I countered.
We both knew my argument didnât hold up very well. He was a man out alone at night. There was obviously a risk there, but it wasnât the same.
We also both knew, I wasnât really trying to start a debate. Just signalling to him I didnât want to get into it and wanted to move on.
âI was walking to the tube from a mateâs place,â he explained simply, letting me off the hook.
He had begun to tape the dressing down to my skin, securing it safely. He worked expertly. Even if I didnât already know, I would have said this was one of many times he had done some at home first aid.
âIn a designer suit?â I questioned. There were two things I was asking, but also not saying. Was this the kind of âmateâ you wine and dine before going home with them? And what happened to that poor kid from Holmes Chapel I once knew?
âI came straight from work.â
Jesus he wasnât giving me a lot to work with in the way of details.
âOh,â I say lamely, not wanting to pry. As much as I could tell myself (and him) that I didnât really know him anymore and he was basically a stranger, it still hurt to be treated like one. We used to be so open with one another. The one thing I ever kept from him was how I truly felt about him.
âI work in finance,â he offers up after a beat of silence. âIt uh- Iâm pretty lucky to have the job I do,â he alludes to his financial standing, obviously wanting to acknowledge the contrast comparative to how I knew him. A boy not even of eighteen, fending for himself while trying to complete his high school education.
My face practically split in two with the size of the smile on my face at his words. âIâm so happy for you, Harry,â I say, hoping he can see how genuinely I mean it.
âThank you.â
âAre you happy, H?â The question slips out before I can stop it. Internally, I kick myself. Externally, I try to keep my face neutral, yet interested. Thatâs a perfectly normal question to ask. Totally.
âUm,â he switches to my left elbow, making quicker work of the smaller wound. âI think so. In my experience you never realise how happy you are until you arenât. But still, I think I am.â
âGood,â I say firmly. âIâm glad.â
âWhat about you?â He turns the questioning back on you. âWhatâs your story?â
âOh, you know. The sad story of the girl chasing a dream,â I nodded my head towards the sewing machine stationed at the other end of the table.
âDonât say that!â His tone jests, but he is serious as he speaks. âI think it would be far sadder if I discovered that your talent was going to waste. Iâm really glad to hear that actually,â he half says the last sentence to himself, concentrating on fixing his dressing properly on the more difficult angle of my elbow.
âThere you go,â he gleams as he admires his handy work. âGood as new.â
âThank you so much, Harry. Iâm so sorry for all this-â
âNot your fault,â he quickly dismisses.
âEven so, Iâm sorry for all the trouble. Iâll pay for an uber home for you or something,â I try to come up with something to offer him that can even begin to repay him for his help.
âAre you going to be okay by yourself?â His brow creases in concern.
âOh, Alex should be-â I smack a hand over my mouth, realising I never texted him to let him know I had gotten home okay.
âOh fuck,â I remove my hand from my mouth. I gingerly fish my phone out of my back pocket, muscles beginning to protest, the impact of that fall settling in.
Four missed calls and a flurry of text messages. My phone had automatically turned onto âDo Not Disturbâ mode as scheduled at 12:30. I hadnât been notified of any of it and he had definitely assumed the worst.
âIs everything okay?â
âI forgot to text him and let him know I made it home okay,â I donât look up as I speak, opening our text chat.
From Alex: Iâm coming home
Received ten minutes ago.
âYour boyfriend?â He questioned, keeping his face impassive. That had my head shooting up.
âUh-â I began, but cut myself off as the unmistakeable sound of heeled feet running up the stairs to our apartment ran out loud and clear.
Shit.
Before I could even think what to say next, Alexâs key was in the lock. The door swung open, smacking the wall with the force of it.
Both Harry and Alexâs brows hit their bloody hairline I swear. Or more accurately, Lexieâs.
There my best friend and roommate stood, in full drag, light catching the sequins of the pink mini-dress I had sewn myself. If I werenât standing there with the guiltiest expression of my life, I would be thinking about how stunning she looked.
Harry looked between the two of you, as Lexie did the same. Both trying to catch their brains up to what they were seeing. I myself was at a loss for words. I probably should have started with, âLex, I am so sorry,â but Harry broke the silence first.
âWow, you look amazing,â he breathed, transfixed by the look Lexie had created. Drag was an art form, and she was quite the artist. He was not the first to become enchanted upon first look, and he certainly would not be the last.
Lexie narrowed her eyes at Harry, jaw falling slightly open at the audacity of the acknowledgement in this moment. She had little patience for besotted strangers in moments like this. Her narrowed eyes moved to mine, face filling with rage.
âLex-â I begin, but am cut off for what seems to be the millionth time tonight with the simple raise of her hand. The close of my mouth is instant. I was not about to make this any worse.
âBitch, if you do not have a very good explanation for this,â she breathes deeply, trying to gain her composure, âI am going to fucking kill you.â
                  ********
As soon as he is out of your apartment and onto the street, his phone is in his hand. Fingers not able to press to type the message fast enough for his liking.
From Harry: We need to talk. I saw her.
As soon as the message was delivered, he was returning the calls he had silenced in y/nâs presence. The moment she had turned her back and left him to wash his hands, he had turned his phone to airplane mode.
âJesus Christ bruv, I thought you were dead,â Michael joked as soon as he picked up.
The two of them had parted ways for what shouldâve been five or ten minutes. Harry hadnât seen it happen, just heard the clatter of the beer bottle as it skated along the ground and the screeching halt in the argument. He had been waiting patiently for Michael to finish working in the shadowy doorway to the side. He hadnât seen a thing, and he was sure from his concealed position, whoever had seen Mike hadnât seen him. So, he obligingly offered to take a walk, ensure she hadnât gone calling the police.
He had just been bored. Ready to go home and have a drink with Michael so he could have a bitch and a moan about work. It always left him feeling better when he returned on Monday. He was killing time, that was all. He hadnât expected to stumble over the girl who had changed everything.
Harry didnât take time to explain his extended absence, moving straight along to what he had called for. Just like Mike, he preferred to skip the pleasantries.
âI need you to subtly divert as much traffic from this block as possible,â he didnât ask. He never asked. It was always an instruction with him. In this business, asking nicely didnât exactly lend itself to going far.
âWhatâs this about?â Harry gritted his teeth. He did not enjoy having his authority questioned. The only reason Michael would get away with it was because of their pre-existing friendship. Even then. Harry was not exactly in a forgiving mood. Made all the worse when Mike added, âThis isnât about that girl from the alley is it?â
Michael had his answer when Harry said only, âGet it done or Iâll have your fookinâ head.â
chat with me about butterfly effect!
#mob!h#harry styles imagine#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles#harry styles angst#harry styles series#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles one shot#harry styles fluff#harry styles smut#harry x reader#harry x you#butterfly effect#harry styles writing#harry styles story#one direction imagine#harry styles au#mob!harry#mob!harry styles#mob harry styles#mob h
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Loving You Is Easier Than I Had Expected - Matthew Tkachuk | Rock Band AU
Summary: Being one of the most popular rock bandâs personal assistant was never easy: between rushing through traffic, running around, and listening to music, Chordback was part of Deborah Millerâs day-to-day life. As if her schedule wasnât already busy enough, the bandâs drummer - Matthew Tkachuk - stumbles into her life like a tornado, unexpectedly turning her world upside down.Â
A/N: Oh. My. God. This fic has truly become my baby. No Joke. Iâve worked on this for almost a month and Iâm so proud of what it came out to be. Hope you enjoy it!
Word Count: 18,4k (damn)
Warnings: swearing (lots of it), anxiety, fighting, cockiness (also lots of it), drinking and partying, physical fights, wounds, blood, perverts, bad relationships with families, angst, mostly fluff
Chordback needed her. More than anything.
The thought made its way into Deborahâs head as she watched the band sluggishly walk around their shared penthouse, bags under their eyes as they scrambled for their luggage and important belongings. They moved without a care in the world, as if their schedule wasnât packed with things to do, and she didnât need to be a genius to realize that they had partied too hard the previous night.
âMove out of the way,â Noah muttered Johnnyâs way, pushing past him with his suitcase in hand. âDeb, whenâs the flight?â
âThe flight isnât the problem,â she stated, holding back a sigh as Elias came out of the bathroom with toothpaste still painting the side of his lips. âThereâs a reason why you decided to fly privately,â
âThen why are we rushing?â Johnny said matter-of-factly, shaking his head sassily while he closed his own bass case.
âBecause you have places to be after the flight,â the only woman in the house finally let her sigh out, pushing past the men to clean the white remnants off of Eliasâ face, ignoring the smug smirk on his face. âWhereâs Matthew, now?â
âChucky!â
The room fell silent for a moment as she prayed - for anyone up there - that Matthew hadnât fallen back asleep just when they needed to leave. His frame pushed past the threshold of his bedroom soon after his name was called, his signature drumsticks in hand as a relieved sigh left Deborahâs parted lips when their eyes met.
His phone was pressed to his ear, eyes far too awake for the early morning hour that made her wonder if he had gone to sleep the night before or just stayed up until sunset rolled around. His eyebrows were furrowed, the look she saw just so often painting wrinkles on his forehead as he stayed in silence.
âTaryn, I donât have time for this right now. Iâll call you later,â the words were rushed, his voice dark and sporting a tip of annoyance before he pressed the red button on the screen. The phone was discarded in the back pocket of his jeans a second later, his eyes finding Deborahâs and making her realize she had been staring, pushing her back into action.
âAre we ready?â She asked, loud enough for everyone to hear. All she got as responses were a few grumbles, followed by the familiar sounds of the luggage the band carried around way too often moving through the penthouse.
The ride to the airport was spent in silence, a few moans and groans leaving the guysâ lips whenever something would be too loud or, in general, too exaggerated. Going through security was just as boring, with Deborah being able to share just a few hushed words with Jean - the bandâs manager - before Elias or Noah would shut the two of them down.
âI told them not to drink too much,â Jean muttered under her breath, taking a look at the way Johnnyâs eyes had closed. âGod, is this what being a mother feels like?â
The older woman looked exasperated as she frantically walked around the boarding area, restraining herself from giving the tired men another lecture about partying like animals and how it affects their public image.
With her arms folded over her chest, Debby watched over the guys slightly older than her. She was still wondering why Matthew was carrying himself better than the rest of his friends, but it was the look on his face that truly left her curious.
His gaze was fixated on his phone, fingers tapping quickly as the wrinkles on his forehead stayed in their place. She was staring. Again. Frustrated with her own self, Deborah turned around to face the floor-to-ceiling windows of the airport, the early sun illuminating the world before your eyes.
She felt peaceful, mind clearing from the stress of the morning right before the flight attendants led her and the band towards the private jet. The luxury of its insides were nothing new to the personal assistant, and it was the same for the inappropriate glances the captain had been sending her way ever since she had started the job.
Noah dropped on one of the leather seats, eyes closing as he shut the world out, Johnny following his actions. Elias and Matthew settled in the seats opposite them, giving Deborah a clear view of the drummerâs features even from your position in the far back.
âWe should get there on time,â Jean sighed, gracefully settling down next to the young woman just as the captain started to walk away. His eyes met Deborahâs one last time, a chill running up her spine when he sent her an unwanted wink, as he always used to.
To say she felt uncomfortable was an understatement.
With her heart beating loudly against her chest, she let her fingers play with the bottom of her shirt, eyes trained in front of herself. That man needs to take a hint, was all Deborah could think, so focused on blocking out the rest of the world she didnât even notice Matthewâs eyes on her.
He had been glancing her way curiously ever since heâd noticed her body stiffen, right when she had walked inside the plane and greeted the conductor. Her demeanor had changed, and he wanted to know why.
He stayed in his seat, though. He watched from the distance, let his eyes trail over her features until she relaxed and hoped she wouldnât notice. Because thatâs what heâs always done: admire her from far away.
-----
âListen, why canât you just shut the fuck up and get in there?â Noah hissed, the heated conversation between him and Elias taking place inside the control room of the studio in New York. âYouâve argued about this track ever since I put it down- thank you, sweetheart,â
He grabbed the coffee Deborah handed him with a thankful smile, the flirty nickname not even impressing her anymore as she silently sat down on the closest couch.
âDude, this track doesnât represent us!â Elias said, pushing his sheet music around angrily before citing the words of the song. âOh, why canât I have you, sweet love of mine? Are you joking, Noah?! These lyrics are pop bullshit. New album is not gonna work if we write shit like this,â
The lead blew out a heavy sigh, fists turning into balls at his sides as his eyes closed. âActually, you know what? I need to get some air,â was all Elias mumbled, pushing past his best friend with nothing but anger painting his features. Deborah was about to run after him to make sure everything was okay, but Noahâs hand dismissed her attempt.
âLet him go, he needs to cool off,â
The singer didnât seem too pleased with his friendâs shenanigans, turning to face the empty booth in front of his eyes as another sigh turned his body stiff. Fights had occurred before: Deborah wasnât new to arguments about where the group was going to eat, or even fights because of girls; but things had started to become too tense, too complicated between the four men.
âChucky, your turn,â Noah mumbled, snapping the only woman in the room out of her trance to see Matthew walk past her, drumsticks in hand.
He was silent as he sat down in front of the drum set, pushing the pair of headphones over his nest of curls. His tattooed arms were in full display as he gave Noah a thumbs up, a cocky smile painting his lips. Matthew was the living description of a rock star, and Debby couldnât keep her eyes off of him.
The drummerâs eyes closed as the music started playing in his ears, his drumsticks making a quick turn between his fingers before he began doing what he loved the most. Watching him play had Deborah mesmerized: the way he attentively looked in front of himself to catch Noahâs reactions, or just the movements of his hands as he gave his everything into the performance, even if his only audience were her and Noah.
Deborah was lost in his gaze, his light, stormy eyes making her heart skip a beat. The sounds coming from him came to a halt before she knew it, a satisfied smirk coating his lips as he waited for Noahâs judgment.
It was silent for a few seconds, heavy breathing coming from the singer as he revived the moment and the melody in his head. âJesus, Matt,â he breathed into the speaker, trying to muffle the shock in his features by batting his eyelids. âYou got it perfect on the first time, damn,â
Matthewâs smirk grew bigger, taking its usual cocky mark as he stood up and finally noticed the assistant. When he strutted back inside the control room to grab his belongings, he snickered at her mesmerized gaze.
âClose your mouth before you catch flies, honey,â was all he said, cocking his brow as his smug smile still sat on his lips. The remark had Deborahâs face turn into a scowl, his cocky words engraving themselves in her mind as he walked away.
She bit her lip as she turned back around to face Noah, trying to push Matthew and his cockiness out of her head, with no success. The lead, on the other hand, looked in distress: he was hunched over the console, clearly in his own head as silence engulfed the two of them in a stressful hug.
âTell me you know how to play the guitar,â he mumbled, rubbing his tired eyes as he turned around to face Deborah. âOr at least how to book a place for us in a bar, tonight,â
âI can do the latter,â she sighed, knowing that Noahâs plans to finish the song would need to involve a night out, alcohol, and girls willing to drool all over Eliasâ charm.
âAnd please, come out with us, Deb,â he continued. âJean doesnât want things to go too wild, so we might need you to keep us on track,â
She held back a sigh. Her plans for a relaxing night at the hotel had been crushed. Again. Though a night by herself looked way better than a packed club, Deborahâs job was calling, and she couldnât refuse.
âAlright, Iâll be there,â she said, taking her phone out of her bag to start the search for the nightâs location. âIâll text you the details,â
âDrinks are on us,â
-
Debbyâs ears felt like they were going to bleed soon, and the headache was making her head throb so hard she was hoping not to faint in the middle of the most popular club in New York.
The VIP area was everything she had expected it to be: leather couches that probably cost more than her apartment back in Calgary, enough drinks to make an army drunk, and the entire female population of the city. What could she say? It was Chordback worthy.
Eliasâ cheeks were tinted a dark shade of red, eyes gleaming even in the darkness of the club as he held two blondes close to his body. The smirk Deborah knew so well was painting his lips - the one he reserved for flirting purposes only - as she watched him charm another set of girls in his hotel bed.
He was the second oldest in the band, but it hadnât taken the assistant years to realize his maturity level wasnât what every girl on the internet expected it to be. Clad in his tight, pitch-black skinny jeans and shirt - not exactly what people would expect a rock star to dress like -, he knew how to attract girls.
Noah had tried to convince him to record his guitar solo the moment their drinks were placed in front of them, but he had ended up with no success when the guitarist had left the table mid-conversation to go dance. The leadâs patience was running low, and Debby was sure his night wasnât going to turn out as good as he had thought it would.
If that wasnât enough, she felt stared at. Everywhere she went, a pair of eyes was following her. Debby would turn around to find scowls coloring the groupiesâ faces, their orbs giving her disgusted once-overs whenever sheâd go as far as to grasp Noahâs arm to avoid falling over, or even lean close enough to ask where Matthew had gone. She had never liked being the center of attention, hence why she had decided to work behind the scenes.
By the time midnight hit, though, she had had enough. The day had been tiring, the club was anything but enjoyable, and the glaring had gone from bearable to annoyingly uncomfortable. Almost stomping her way towards the couch, Debbyâs arms folded over her own chest as she stood before Matthew Tkachukâs relaxed body.
âOkay, Iâm done with this bullshit,â she yelled loudly enough to be heard over the thumping bass of the music. âDo I have something on my face?â
Matthewâs smirk paired with his arched eyebrows did its job at making the younger girl feel embarrassed. In some ways, it sent her back to the days in high school, where the popular girls only needed one of their disgusted glances to make her shut herr mouth and feel embarrassed.
Deborah ignored his expression, waiting for a response as a girl sat next to him - so close she was almost straddling his lap. âNo? Why would you think that?â
âBecause everyone is staring at me as if I have shit smeared all over my face,â
The words snatched a chuckle out of his system, tongue wetting his lips as he gave Debbyâs body a once-over. âThey think youâre a new one. One of them,â
Her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to unravel his riddle, but nothing seemed to make sense in her mind. âWhat is that supposed to mean?â
âThey think youâre a new groupie, that youâre stealing their place,â
âIâm not a fucking groupie,â she said, confusion clear in her features as she watched him sling his arm over the girl at his side. âIâve been your PA for two years now!â
All Matthew did was shrug, smirking as he watched the look of annoyance spread over the personal assistantâs face. She was done. She wanted to leave the busy club behind with all the nasty glares and go back to the hotel to sleep.
Skimming past sweaty bodies, she reached Noahâs side after a few minutes. She had expected him to be having fun, but his features were still sporting a bothered scowl. âNoah!â
His attention snapped towards her in a second, his eyes boring into Deborahâs as he waited for her to speak up. âIâm heading to the hotel, I canât stand this club anymore,â
A small nod was all she got in response, her eyes falling among the crowd to see Johnny making out with a smaller brunette, his hair sticking all over the place. Glancing towards the side of the room, she found Elias sitting on the couch, enjoying the sloppy kisses being spread all over his neck by the two blondes from earlier. Matthew, on the other hand, was still sitting on the couch - this time without his companion - his light orbs focused on Noah and their assistant.
âCan you please keep an eye on the rest of the guys?â She asked Noah, looking up at him as she waited for his response. He gave you a curt nod. âAnd donât stay out too late,â
She left the club soon after, strutting out of the packed room with relief. Debby still felt eyes on herself, but not the ones of the rabid fans that had hated her since the moment she had stepped inside the room. Matthewâs eyes.
They watched her walk away, ignoring the pair of manicured hands touching his arm to catch his attention. He had been the reason why everyone was looking at her, and it wasnât hard to tell. Yet, she was oblivious.
They had thought Deborah was a groupie because of the way he looked at her, because what his eyes held whenever heâd let himself glance her way wasnât just curiosity. It was fondness, hunger, a cocktail of emotions that he had been trying to avoid for his own sake.
But, that time, he had lost at his own game.
-
âWhat the hell were you thinking?!â
Jeanâs voice was sharp, so shrill it sent bolts of pain through Deborahâs temples. She had watched the scene unfold in front of your eyes, starting with the unexpected awakening in the middle of the night, ending with all the band members getting lectured by their agent.
The woman in her forties looked like she was about to tug her dark hair off of her scalp, an angry look on her face as she looked at the men sitting in front of her. âJean, calm down. It was just a fight,â
âDonât tell me to calm down, boy!â Jean pointed her finger sharply at his face, nostrils flaring. âJust a fight, Elias?! Itâs all over the internet!â
Guilt washed over Debby as she took in Noahâs beat-up face, including his cut lip and purplish left eye; Matthew, next to him, wasnât doing any better. She was supposed to be there, to keep an eye on the guys.
Jean had woken her up in a rush an hour after coming back to the hotel, mumbling under her breath as she dragged Deborah to her personal room. Chordback was already sitting on the edge of her bed, their eyes cast on the floor as the assistant noticed their bruises and cuts.
âI hate to say this, Elias, but youâve been causing problems for the past month,â Jean sighed, rubbing her forehead with the palm of her hand as her tired eyes focused on the landscape out of the hotelâs window. âFirst the schedule, then Noahâs song, now whatever happened at the club,â
She let another sigh slip past her lips before her voice took a gentler tone. âJohn, what happened?â
There was a beat before the bass player spoke, and Deborah took a moment to examine his face. He was by far the one that hadnât been affected by the fight, at all. âI- uh⊠I donât know,â
The assistant had to refrain from holding back a sigh herself, her tense body language catching Eliasâ eye. âWhy are we the only ones getting lectured? Deborah was supposed to stay with us,â
âThis is not about Debby,â Jean stated harshly, sending him a glare. âShe wasnât getting paid to follow you at the club, and she had every right to leave when she felt like it. John, keep going,â
âI said I donât know anything,â
âMatthew?â
The curly-haired man sighed, his head lifting upwards just then to let his eyes meet the wall briefly. âI was talking with a girl, people started yelling, and I heard Elias talking shit about Noahâs songâ
Deborahâs stomach filled with an unknown feeling when he mentioned a girl, sending her head in a spiral to ask herself what the hell was she experiencing. That wasnât supposed to happen.
âAnd I just couldnât take it,â Matthew stopped, his fingers ghosting over the cuts on his knuckles. âMan, thatâs a heartfelt song and you went around to talk shit about it to strangers,â
Elias kept his mouth shut, jaw clenching as his friend continued talking. âNoah and Johnny also came in, but just in time to separate us,â
âThen what happened to your face, Noah?â Jean asked, concern evident in her voice.
âI- uh⊠I was seeing red,â Matthew mumbled, silence filling the room soon after the words left his mouth. Deborah was left to look at a desperate Jean - clearly close to having a mental breakdown - and hope things would get better by the time morning would roll in.
Her mind, though, couldnât focus on anything but Matthew. He looked beaten up, both physically and mentally; he looked like he was holding so much on his shoulders, so much pressure she wanted to relieve him of.
âMatthew, John,â Jean sighed, looking behind his shoulders at the two men briefly. âYou can go get some sleep. You too, Debby,â
She had never shuffled out of a room that quickly in her entire life, the tension being so overwhelming she needed a breath of fresh air. Johnny and Matthew were silent as they stepped out of the room, a physical and emotional distance separating them as they parted ways.
The moment was awkward, Matthew turning around just in time to see his friend shut the door of his room behind himself, a sigh leaving his lips. His eyes met Deborahâs for a quick second, a wave of shame flowing through them.
In some way, she felt like part of that shame was directed at herself too: his snarky, cocky words were still impressed in her mind, but she could see his regret. She wished her heartbeat hadnât started picking up, but looking in his eyes, she couldnât help it.
He was asking for forgiveness, and who was she to not give it to him? He was the only person she couldnât stop thinking about day and night, anyway, for some reason.
âCome with me,â Deborah whispered, her voice shallower than she had thought it would be as her hand caught his. He didnât ask questions when she opened her roomâs door, he didnât speak a word as she led him towards the en-suite bathroom, and he didnât run away when she made him sit on the edge of the bathtub.
More silence settled between the two of them as Debby grabbed the first-aid kit the hotel supplied, wetting a cotton ball with disinfectant before letting her hand grab Matthewâs again.
There was a soft hiss when she first let the material touch his bloody skin, his jaw clenching as he closed his eyes. âI feel like a monster,â
His words made the womanâs heart clench, her stomach turning into jelly. âYouâre not a monster, Matthew,â
âI hit my best friend because I couldnât hold myself back,â he breathed out, voice unexpectedly shaky as he kept his gaze on the tile floor. âIâm a monster,â
Deborah sighed, letting her fingers grasp his chin so he could lift his head up. Their eyes met as she prepared another cotton ball, ready to clean the cut on his bottom lip as they let silence fill the room.
Cradling his head in her hands, Debby took a few minutes to wipe some dried blood off his skin. Matthew was tired, she could tell from the way his eyes were struggling to stay open, but regret was keeping him up, keeping his brain active.
She let herself gaze at him for a small moment before patting his shoulder. âGet some sleep, Matt,â she whispered. âReally,â
He nodded gingerly, following her towards her door. âThank you, Deb,â
âDonât worry about it,â
He took a moment to admire her, letting one of his hands gently push a strand of stray hair out of her face. Her body heated up, heart rate quickening as she watched him leave silently, a small smile on his lips.
In a trance, Deborah went back to bed, sleep not on her agenda anymore. Her mind kept repeating the moment she had had with Matthew, every single second of it, and it felt new, unexpected.
Matthew Tkachuk was making her feel things she had never felt before, and everything was so unknown to her.
That night, Deborah struggled to fall back asleep.
-----
âYouâre gonna catch a cold,â
The evening air was making Deborahâs hair flow around herself, her eyes focusing on the sunset before turning around to meet Matthewâs. A small smile formed on her lips, her arms folding over her chest. âNah, my body wonât betray me like that,â
The chuckle that left his lips was enough to push the butterflies in her stomach back to life. His body reached Debbyâs side as he focused too on the setting sun disappearing behind the New York skyscrapers.
âTruly the best time of the day,â she mumbled under her breath. âSunsets are just so beautiful,â
Matthew sent a quick glance her way. âBut the night,â was all he said, voice holding a tone of fondness as he looked in front of himself. âThe night is just so beautiful,â
âThe night is lonely,â the assistant pointed.
âThe night is peaceful,â he corrected her, the smile on his lips so tender it made her melt. âEveryone goes to sleep at night, and it gives you time to think,â
There was a beat of silence as she took in his words, heart racing as she unconsciously scooted closer to him. The question was risky. It rushed through Deborahâs lips, and her eyes almost closed in fear of rejection. âWhat do you think about? At night, I mean,â
âI think about good memories,â his answer was quick, no sign of discomfort on his face. âAbout my childhood, or people I miss,â
He glanced her way with a smile on his lips, the air from the top of the building making his curls move slightly. âAnd what do you think about? At night, I mean,â
âLife, I guess,â
There was a nod from his side, his eyes turning back to focus on the landscape as another round of silence filled the distance between the two of them. Deborahâs mind started to think about his words, pushing her away from reality as she tried to keep herself at bait. You werenât his type, and what about Taryn?
The identity of Taryn was still unknown to the girl, but something was telling her she was eventually going to find out. She was so into her own world that she barely registered the soft material of Matthewâs leather jacket slipping onto her shoulders, his eyes glancing her way.
His body leaned against the railing of the terrace, slipping unbelievably closer to hers as the two of them admired each other. âGod, Deborah,â he whispered, letting one of his hands graze over her cheekbone. Her heart was beating out of her chest so loudly she feared he could hear it, his palm slowly cupping her cheek as he let his eyes admire her. âI wish I could have met you earlier,â
His lips were extremely close to Debbyâs, so close she barely even paid attention to what he had said. As the words registered, she opened her mouth to ask for an explanation, but the ringing of his phone interrupted the moment.
His eyelids shut in annoyance as he slipped the device out of his back pocket, answering as soon as he could. âIâll be down in a sec,â
He was off the railing before he even ended the call, leaving Deborah on her own on the terrace of the building that hosted Chordbackâs recording label. He turned around just when she called his name, voice strained by the sudden end of just what had been about to happen.
âYour jacket, Matt,â she pointed, starting to shrug it off just so she could hand it back to him. His hand rose in the air, putting her movements to a halt.
âKeep it,â he said, smiling gingerly before opening the door to head back inside the warmth of the building. âIt looks better on you anyway,â
-----
âI wanna do it again,â Johnny said from the booth, looking at Noah as he strummed lightly his bass. âI fucked up the last part,â
From her spot on the smallest - and most uncomfortable - couch she had ever seen, Deborah watched Noah nod his head, pressing a few buttons on the console. The bass playerâs head started bobbing when the music started filling his headphones, eyes almost closing as he started playing his melody.
Her tired eyes fell down on her phone, the brightness of its screen almost making her curse out. It was well past midnight, and Deborahâs day had been more than busy: the boys had to record a podcast episode with a famous producer, and she hadnât even had a moment to settle down at the studio before a call from Jean pushed her up on her feet and around New York.
Her head was pounding, but she wasnât allowed to leave the studio until the band decided to finish their session and go back to the hotel, so she sat in silence next to Matthew. He was silent too, glancing in front of himself as the faint sound of Johnnyâs bass sent him in a trance.
As Debbyâs eyes struggled to stay open, she stretched her back, holding back a moan when she felt just how tense her muscles were. Her movements snapped Matt out of his daydreaming, his orbs finding hers in the dimly lit studio as she settled back into her initial place.
âYou okay?â He asked, voice uncharacteristically soft as he kept his gaze trained on the assistant.
âJust tired,â was all she said, pushing out a sigh as she folded her arms over her chest. Who turned on the AC, for fuckâs sake?
âJohnny prefers working in the cold,â Matthew murmured, almost reading her thoughts. âYou want me to turn off the AC?â
Deborah shook her head, trying to hide a veil of shock at his unexpected words, kindness spilling out of them like a fountain. âNo, no. Itâs fine, donât worry,â
Though she had been trying as hard as she could to keep herself awake, her body found itself scooting closer to Matthewâs, his warmth making her eyelids finally close. Debbyâs head dropped to his shoulder, finally letting her relax for the first time of the day. A content sigh left her lips.
Matthewâs heart was beating out of his chest, emotions he had felt just once making him shiver. One of his arms wrapped itself around the girlâs waist, holding her close and hoping the moment would never end.
She was so close, so soft in his hold he never wanted to let go.
So he closed his eyes, putting his world to a stop just so he could hold her for a little more, just so he could imagine what it would feel like to be hers.
He was woken up after what felt like hours, Noahâs smirk being the first thing he saw after the midnight nap. Deborahâs head was on his chest, eyes closed and a relaxed smile painting her lips as she peacefully slept.
âAnd then Iâm the obvious one,â Noah joked, referring to all the chirps he had gotten for always looking smitten, when he liked someone. âShould I be waiting for a love song from you?â
âShut the fuck up, man,â Matthew hissed, a smile forming on his lips even after the chirps. âWhat time is it?â
âOne a.m.â
âDamn,â Matthew sighed, rubbing his eyes before looking down at Debby again. âIâll wake her up. Just wait outside for us,â
âDonât fuck on the couch,â Noah joked, making Matthew roll his eyes. The lead shut the door behind him and Johnny, leaving Deborah and the man able to make her heart skip a beat on their own.
Matt took a moment to admire her peaceful state, one of his calloused hands cupping her cheek before pushing a strand of hair out of her face. The movements had Deborah stirring, her eyes slowly opening just to see - and feel - Matthew close to her.
With her cheeks burning, she pushed herself off of him, an awkward chuckle leaving her parted lips. âIâm, uh- Iâm sorry,â Debby stuttered, running a hand through her hair. âHow long was I out for?â
âAn hour, maybe?â
She looked down at her phone to check the time, nodding her head when she saw the digits at the top of the screen. âEveryone is done?â
âTheyâre waiting outside,â he said, voice tender as he watched her rise to her feet. With a nod, Deborah grabbed her purse and let her eyes meet with his. She didnât know what to say, so the two of them were left in silence before she muttered something and left the room in a rush, heart beating quickly against her rib cage.
By the time Debby reached the rest of the group outside - Elias still missing in action -, she was faced with grins. Nobody talked, though, and by the time she shut the hotel door behind herself, she was a nervous mess.
What the fuck had just happened?
-----
The last morning in New York was sunny. Deborahâs sunglasses barely could do their job as she sat between the band on the outside of the overpriced cafĂ© they loved. The slight breeze was bringing the first few hints of summer in the busy air of the city, and the woman enjoyed her last moment in the Big Apple by taking a sip of the warm drink sitting in front of her.
It was the first time Chordback actually sat down together after the fight between Noah and Elias, and it felt refreshing. Johnny and Matthew - who was sitting beside her - were talking, just like the old times, and Elias was taking a moment to admire the city. Noah, on the other hand, wasnât paying much attention to his background: his eyes were focused on his phone, a smile that Debby could only refer to as smitten painting his lips.
âSo, what are the plans for the day, hun?â Elias caught the assistantâs attention, the pet name making her chuckle.
âHun? Oh my God,â she giggled, pushing the conversation behind herself before opening her mouth again. âWe gotta catch the flight back to Calgary and then youâre free,â
A whistle came from Johnny, happy chuckles filling their surroundings. âA day off? Wow,â
âNo partying, though,â Deborah warned, pointing a finger Eliasâ way, who shrugged innocently. The moment was short-lived, being interrupted by a younger fan asking for a picture. The guys all put on a smile, rising to their feet and getting in position. Noah took more time than necessary to put down his phone, but eventually joined his friends and greeted the girl, who looked like she was about to faint.
By the time the photo was taken, the girl was running off to her family holding back happy tears. The band members sat back in their places to finish their breakfast, silence thickening at the table.
Deborahâs eyes met Matthewâs, remembering what had happened during the bandâs last studio session, her cheeks heating up. There hadnât been any moments where the two of them could discuss not only the cuddling, but also the time when she had helped him clean his wounds up after the fight at the club, and Debby was feeling torn.
She didnât know why, but in some way she didnât want to discuss the events. She thought it was ridiculous that she couldnât figure out what she was feeling, what Matthew was doing to her. Debby couldnât figure out her own feelings, and figuring his out was more difficult than she had expected.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the devil himself, pushing her back to reality with his voice. âHanifin, what the hell are you doing with that phone?â Matt teased, his signature smirk painting his lips.
âI, uh-â the lead stuttered, finally putting his device on top of the table as he looked up at the assistant and his friends. âI was just sending a text,â
âJust one?â Johnny chirped, chuckling when Noahâs cheeks turned a dark shade of red. âI think heâs hiding something from us, guys,â
âI sent the demo of âAs Long As Iâm With Youâ to the person itâs written about,â
There was a beat of silence as Elias, Matthew, and Johnny all took in their leadâs words. ââAs Long As Iâm With Youâ as in the song we fought over?â Elias asked, voice filled with surprise as he waited for a response. Noah just nodded, biting back a smile as his eyes met with Matthewâs.
âChucky knew,â he mumbled. âThatâs why he punched you in the face when you talked shit about it,â
âOh! Thatâs what he meant with âheartfeltâ,â Elias laughed, shaking his head before breathing out a guilty sigh. âIâm sorry, man. Should have just kept my mouth shut,â
âI told you, itâs fine,â Noah said, his eyes glancing down towards his phone when the screen lit up, the guys finally finishing their breakfast.
âWhatâs her name, man?â
âAleena,â just the mention of her name made the lead smile. âSheâs back in Calgary,â
âAnd you didnât tell us?!â Matt exclaimed, dramatically holding a hand to his chest. âThis one hurts, man,â
âDid she like it?â Elias asked.
âThe demo? She loved it,â Noah chuckled, cheeks turning uncharacteristically red. He gulped down his coffee, eyes glancing Deborahâs way as he stood up. âReady to go?â
And by the time they reached the airport, the band was back as if the fights, bickering, and internal annoyance hadnât happened. She had always been surprised at how strong their bond actually was that she found herself hurting when the thoughts of them possibly separating even crossed her mind.
The wait at the gate was not as long as the one from weeks prior, the private plane already waiting for everyone by the time they had gone through security. Deborah had to repress a groan when she realized the pilot was going to greet her, just like every time.
His dark eyes were on her before she could even walk inside the aircraft, the edges of his mouth turning upwards into a creepy smirk as he shook Johnnyâs hand. It felt like a routine: Debby would greet the two kind flight assistants, share a knowing look with them before sticking her hand out to shake the pilotâs. The wink he sent her way wasnât new, and neither was his hand squeezing her waist before he walked back to his seat.
Her eyes portrayed the usual emptiness they always did after entering the plane, and Matthew was quick to notice. That time, though, he knew why she turned the world off as soon as theyâd board. He had been guessing Deborah was afraid of heights, or that flying made her sick, but he would have never guessed it was because of the pilot.
He elbowed Noah without even thinking, his eyes still glancing the assistantâs way as his best friend hissed. âWhat the fuck, Chucky?!â
âWe need to talk,â
Noah sent Matthew a confused glare, eyebrows scrunched together as he followed the drummerâs gaze. He looked at Deborah, then back at his bandmate with a look of confusion still coloring his face. âWell, talk, then,â
âLater,â Matthew mumbled. âWeâll talk when we land, this needs to stay private,â
Noah nodded his head, trying to ignore his friendâs weird manners before pushing his earbuds back in. Matthew, on the other hand, stared at the girl a few seats away. Anger made his skin boil as he thought about the man that had harassed her. If the fucker hadnât been driving the plane she was on, he would have already been dead.
The newfound protectiveness sent a thrill of shock through his spine, but he ignored it. Deborah didnât deserve it, and the man was going to regret every single glance he had sent her way. You donât mess with a Tkachuk, Matthew thought. The man was going to pay.
-----
The city of Calgary held something Deborah couldnât quite place. In her eyes, it looked like home.
Home, though, was back in Arizona - the complete opposite of what Calgary is. With the hot sun burning your shoulders almost the entire year and the endless summers, Arizona was the place Debby went back to just for her family. She had always preferred the cold, after all.
Thanksgiving was around the corner, the Canadian air was starting to thicken with the winter cold, and home was calling. And she was single, again. It wasnât because of her parents - they truly knew she was one to put work before anything else -, but rather the rest of her family.
Deborah had grown up knowing that her fatherâs side of the family was ruthless when it came to getting back home alone, and it had been bothering her ever since she had first moved out. The snarky remarks coming from her aunt and her husband had always been following Deborah around the walls of her childhood home and, no matter how hard she tried to push them away, she just couldnât.
And, God. She hated it so much.
In some way, it made the woman want to spend the holiday on her own, away from the prying eyes of her relatives and away from the stress they caused. But she loved her family too much, and leaving them behind wasnât an option.
When Deborah walked inside the bandâs penthouse, she was met with unexpected silence. The entry hall was tidy, the guysâ respective coats hanging one next to the other; the kitchen was clean, plates and cups stored in their designated cupboard; the living room, on the other hand, wasnât empty.
Matthew was sitting on one of the two couches, a notepad in his hands as he looked out of the window. His eyes were glancing at the gray clouds painting the sky, covering the first few rays of sunlight of the morning.
âGood morning,â
Her voice seemed to shake him out of his trance, body snapping around to meet her eyes as she slowly pushed her coat down her shoulders. ââMorning, D,â
âWhere are the guys?â
âStill sleeping,â Matthew mumbled, watching Debbyâs every move as she let her purse sit on one of the kitchen stools. She made her way towards the couch, sitting down next to him as she tried to ignore the tension rising between the two of them, just like it always did.
The trip to New York had seemed to make a big difference in what their friendship - if you could even call it that - was, even if anything barely happened. Seeing him play, falling asleep on his shoulder, taking care of him after the fight - in some way, it all made a difference, and Debby was sure Matthew could tell, too.
That night she had fallen asleep in the car and he carried her to her hotel room? The tea he had brought her that one morning when she was feeling sick? And the talk. The sunset talk.
He didnât seem to notice the way her heart beat for him and him only, he was so oblivious it made Deborah frustrated.
âHow are you doing?â He asked, the soft thud of his notepad hitting the floor making the assistant bat her eyelashes and bringing her back to reality.
âIâm okay,â she admitted, running a hand through her hair as her eyes focused on him. âJust thinking about Thanksgiving,â
He chuckled. âYou going back home?â
âI mean, I probably should head back to Arizona,â she sighed, shaking her head before opening her mouth again. âIâm just not ready to have the âoh, why canât a pretty girl like you find a good man to marry?â talk again,â
âOh, God,â the man in front of her chuckled. âBeen there,â
âWhat about you? Are you going home?â
There was a beat before his voice darkened, eyes glazing with something Deborah couldnât quite place as his hand toyed with the hem of his shirt. âNo,â
He let his answer linger in the air, the penthouse turning silent again as he stared ahead of himself. From Debbyâs spot next to him, it seemed like he was in his thoughts, his lips pushed in a straight line as he let the emptiness of the house hit the two of them.
Another beat. âMy family and I are not too close,â
âOh,â she murmured, eyebrows furrowing as she let her eyes focus on something else other than his face. He looked saddened, in some kind of way, but mainly pissed. âSo, uh- spending it with anyone special?â
âOh no,â his tense jaw slowly turned back to normal as he repressed a chuckle. âIâm single,â
Then who the hell was Taryn?
He seemed to catch on to Deborahâs confused gaze, an eyebrow cocking as he looked at her. âWhat?â
âNothing,â her cheeks heated up, embarrassment making her heartbeat quicken as shee looked at her fingers. The look on his face spurred the woman on, her voice becoming shallow as she spoke. âI just- I heard you talking to a girl named Taryn, so I just kind of assumed-â
His laughter interrupted her, waking up the mass of butterflies in her stomach just when his head lulled back against the couchâs headrest. âOh my God,â he laughed, holding his stomach before looking back at her. âTaryn is my sister,â
âOh,â
Deborah erupted in a fit of laughter too, shaking her head before letting it lean against his shoulder. âIâm so sorry, I donât even know why I thought that,â
âDonât worry,â he chuckled. âSome groupies went as far as to call her to tell her to leave me alone,â
The confession made her eyebrows scrunch. Girls did that to him?
Silence settled back between the two of them as Debbyâs eyes focused on the city starting to wake up outside the window. The thought that crossed her mind felt wrong from the moment she even tried to phrase it. But thereâs nothing worse than spending Thanksgiving on your own, was all her heart could say.
She glanced quickly at Matthew, who was scribbling something on his notepad. The light redness painting his cheeks had her heart clenching with longing, her hands tingling, begging to run through his messy curls. He was truly breathtaking, Deborah couldnât get enough of him.
âCome to Arizona with me,â the words were rushed, unexpected. They had her surprised when they left her own mouth, and Matthewâs shock was evident as he turned his head around to glance her way.
âI-â
âSpending Thanksgiving on your own fucking sucks,â Debby pointed out. âAnd I wonât let you experience that on my watch,â
He laughed, shaking his head before letting their eyes meet. âI donât want to intrude,â
âYou would never intrude,â the woman said, voice gentle as she restrained herself from cradling his cheek. âAnd my mom has been begging to meet you guys ever since I started working for you,â
That confession made a laugh ripple out of his lips, the sound making her body feel alive. âSo? Yes or no?â
There was a moment where he let his gaze meet Debbyâs, his fondness hugging her warmly as she momentarily forgot how to speak.
âOnly if the tickets are on me,â
She frowned jokingly, biting her lip to hide a smile before speaking. âWeâre set,â
-----
âOh my God, I missed you so much,â Deborahâs mother wept as she left her arms around her daughterâs frame, the crispy wind of Thanksgiving Eve making the afternoon air unexpectedly chilly. âI told you, you should come home more often,â
Debby chuckled at her comment, pushing herself away from her mother to introduce Matthew - her boss and her date. She was fucked. âMom, this is Matthew. Heâs the drummer of the band I work for,â
âItâs so nice to meet you, Mrs. Miller. Thank you for having me,â
From the smile on her motherâs lips, Deborah knew she was sold. The older woman had never been one for tattoos, but Debby had caught her admiring Matthewâs full sleeves from the moment he had crossed her vision; he had helped his date carry her luggage, and she was sure her mom had also noticed that, hence why she was smiling at him as if he had just proposed to her only daughter.
âCome in already, guys. Grandma has just arrived, too,â she mumbled, waving a hand in the air as a signal for the two to get inside.
âGrandma?â
The sight of her sitting on the couch, eyes focused on knitting made Deborah almost tear up. Grandma was home. Her voice shook the elder out of her trance, her body slowly rising to its feet to embrace Deborah in a longing hug. âOh, Peaches,â the nickname still held all the memories from her childhood, and her arms circling the assistant made her feel at peace. âI missed you,â
âI missed you, too, grandma,â Debby sniffled, pulling away to introduce Matt to her, too. Her grandmotherâs eyes were curious as they scanned him, probably blocking out her granddaughterâs introduction to focus on him instead.
âWhere are you from, son?â Her phrase - especially the name she gave Matthew, who was almost twice her height - had the youngest woman in the household repressing a giggle. Matthew, on the other hand, grew quite nervous.
âI was uh- born in Arizona, but grew up in St. Louis,â
The grandmother gave a curt nod, sitting back down on the couch and motioning for Debby to sit down next to her. Her mother joined the room with quick steps, her hand finding Matthewâs shoulder to push his eyes off of the woman that stole his breath away every passing day.
âDeb, I figured Matthew could stay in the basement? Would it be okay?â
The man in question nodded, a smile forming on his lips as he thanked Debbyâs mother. He was led towards the stairs before she knew it, a reassuring smile being sent her way before she was left on her own with her grandma.
âHe seems nice,â the older woman mumbled, eyes still focused on the hat she was making. âYou said he plays the drums?â
âYes, heâs great,â
There was a beat of silence before she looked up at her granddaughter, eyebrows wiggling jokingly. âYou together?â
Deborahâs cheeks heated up, her head shaking quickly soon after as her eyes focused on her lap. There wasnât a response from her grandmother, who silently went back to her previous tasks and letting her think.
What the hell were the two of them even doing?! Matthew was practically her boss, if something went wrong, sheâd probably get fired, for Godâs sake. Deborahâs life was literally walking on a thread: one wrong decision and she would be done.
No more working for Chordback, no more traveling with the band. No more Matt.
And she couldnât let that happen. Her heart was beating for the drummer, and there was nothing she could do about it.
Whatever was going to happen during the holidays, she was hoping it wasnât going to end everything between her and Matt before it even started. She wasnât going to let that happen.
She felt like her happy ending might have been closer than she had thought.
-
The morning after Matthew and Deborahâs arrival was busier than the latter had expected. The loud noises coming from the kitchen woke her up from her deep, peaceful slumber, and by the time she made it downstairs, the house was in full swing.
Her mother and grandma were zooming around the family home, rushing around with pots and pans, not a care in the world when it came to waking up the rest of the household. Her father, on the other hand, was sitting at the kitchen island, a comical look of exasperation painting wrinkles on his face.
The stairs leading towards the basement werenât empty either: a quite shocked - and still sleepy - Matt stood right on the last step, watching the net of nerves Deborahâs family had created unfold in front of his eyes.
âWell, good-fucking-morning,â the woman giggled, turning around just in time to catch him chuckle, his body clad in an old band tee and a pair of plaid pants she had never seen him wear. His arm lifted itself up in the air, hand signaling her to come closer before he could wrap the limb around her body, his relaxing scent filling her nostrils.
âGood morning,â he hummed, voice still hoarse after the multiple hours of sleep. âLooks pretty chaotic in here,â
âAnd you havenât seen Christmas,â Debby giggled, the sound of his laughter making her heart skip a beat. âDadâs having breakfast, Iâm sure he wonât mind if we join,â
The curls on top of Matthewâs head bobbed along with his nod as he followed her towards the main source of sound - and chaos - in the household. Deborah translated her fatherâs grumble into what she could only guess was a âgood morningâ, and took it upon herself to make coffee for her and Matt.
Debby longingly watched him talk to her father as she waited for the warm beverage to get ready, realizing that with each day passing, she was falling for him even more. It was a shock to her, if she had to be honest. She was falling deeply in love with someone she hadnât even shared a kiss with, but God, she was more than smitten.
The beeping of the coffee machine shocked her out of your lovesick trance, Deborahâs eyelashes batting a few times before she grabbed their mugs and headed towards the island.
âYeah, the Oilers are definitely having a good season,â Matthew agreed to whatever her father had said. âLeafs have been doing pretty well too,â
âYouâre right, son,â
âWhat are you talking about?â Debby asked, a smile on her lips as she sat next to Matthew.
âHockey,â her father said, tipping his head back to finish his dark coffee. âMatthew told me his brother plays for the Senators,â
The girlâs eyes widened, searching for Matthewâs face. âReally?â
âYeah,â he chuckled, eyes not moving from his coffee until he changed the conversation, leaving her utterly in the dark about his family situation. Deborah thought it was funny that just a few minutes prior, she was thinking she was falling in love with the man sitting beside her, when in reality she knew just a few things about his life. âSo, uh- should I wear anything specific today?â
âJust something slightly elegant, mom doesnât care too much,â she said, smiling when he nodded his head.
âShould I wear a tie?â
âOh, God,â
âHey, I brought one with me just in case!â He said, a hint of joking in his tone as he sipped on his coffee. âTies are cool,â
âIâve never seen you wear one in your life, Matt,â Deborah giggled. âAnd Iâve been working with you for two years,â
âMaybe I wear them in my free time, how could you know that?â
She laughed, shaking her head as the world came to a halt around them. It was just her and Matthew, joking in the kitchen at half-past-eight in the morning, voices still hoarse as they sipped on their coffee. Debbyâs brain could only think that, maybe, she could get used to it.
By the time dinner rolled around, she felt nervous. She watched herself twirl one last time in front of her mirror, the flowered dress she was wearing moving with her as she breathed out a sigh.
Another Thanksgiving. Debby was secretly hoping it would be better than all the other holidays, and something in her was telling her it was going to be the best Thanksgiving of her life. Because Matthew came along.
Closing her childhood bedroom door behind herself, Deborah heard the familiar voices of her relatives coming from the first floor, her auntâs shrill tone standing taller than the rest.
âAnd whoâs the new addition to the family?â
Debbyâs eyes widened, a muttered curse leaving her lips as she sprinted down the stairs, all the attention being lifted onto her when she almost fell face first in the middle of the living room.
âDebs! Happy Thanksgiving!â
The greetings were all quickly sent her way, followed by hugs and small talk as she greeted the new guests. Deborahâs aunt, though, didnât take long before going back to Matthew, a mischievous look on her face as she gave him a once-over.
âBack to you, darling. New addition to the family? We havenât met yet,â
âIâm Matthew,â Debbyâs - well... - date said, a charming smile that would be able to make millions of girls swoon painting his lips. Your auntâs hand moved in the air, spurring his presentation on in an embarrassing way. âIâm uh- Iâm Deborahâs boyfriend,â
The silence that filled the room only highlighted the assistantâs shock even more. Matthew Tkachuk literally had told her entire family he was her boyfriend. What the actual fuck.
âOh my God! And you werenât gonna tell me, Debs?!â
Her aunt pulled her in a bone crushing hug, hopefully not noticing the panic evident on her features. âFinally! I thought you were going to stay single forever!â
Deborah pushed out a fake giggle, looking up at Matthew with confusion in her eyes. What she got in return was a wink, the smile on her fake-boyfriendâs lips spurring her to keep the act going.
âDinner is served, everyone!â
Debby had to refrain herself from pushing out a sigh of relief, her hand lacing with Matthewâs as she tapped her motherâs shoulder. âI gotta talk to Matt, we will be back in a second, I swear,â
Without waiting for a response, Deborah pushed past the people surrounding them before reaching the closest bathroom, locking the door behind the two of them. âMatthew, what the hell are we doing?â
The chuckle that left his lips made her eyebrows furrow, arms wrapping over her chest. âThis is no joke! Now my entire family thinks weâre together!â
âLetâs just act like we are, then,â he pointed, shoulders shrugging as he let his fingertips play with the edge of her dress. âYou look beautiful, by the way,â
Ignoring the way her cheeks heated up and her heart started racing, Debby pushed him down to sit on the edge of the bathtub. âGod, why did you do that?â
âYou said you didnât wanna face the usual nosy questions, I helped with that,â Matthew smirked, his hands inching higher until they ended up holding her waist. âAll we need to do is act as if weâre in love, and thatâs not hard,â
Normally, Deborah wouldnât have paid much attention to his last remark, seeing how easy it had been for Noah to fake a relationship for PR once, but his tone held something. She couldnât quite place it, but it made it sound like the words had a deeper meaning. On the other hand, he was right: acting like she was in love with him would be easier than expected, because she looked at him as if he hung the stars in the sky, and she couldnât deny it.
Deborah smiled at the genius in front of her, though, taking one last look at his glacial eyes before letting their hands slip together.
âI knew you were trouble, Matthew Tkachuk,â but God, she loved him for it.
-
Dinner went better than expected, and for the first time in years, Thanksgiving brought a smile to Deborahâs lips. Was it because Matthew was by her side? She didnât know. What she did know, though, was how good his arms around her felt, how addicting his lips on her cheek and temple were.
By the time her relatives left her house, Deborah was still buzzing. She had drunk a glass of wine, but she wasnât buzzed on alcohol. She was buzzed on Matthewâs attention.
The two of them stood by her parents as they waved her auntâs white car goodbye, his strong arm wrapped around her waist as he smiled oh so tenderly.
âDad and I are heading to sleep,â Deborahâs mother mumbled. âWe can take care of the dishes tomorrow morning,â
âAlright,â was all the daughter said. âIâll be upstairs in a few,â
Matthew wished her mother goodnight, tugging Debby along inside the household as soon as the older woman reached the top of the stairs. His eyes filled with their familiar glimmer Debby knew too well, a smile forming on her lips as he twirled her in his arms. âWe should get into acting,â
âTotally,â she giggled, her arms wrapping themselves around his neck as their eyes stayed in contact. âWe slayed it,â
âI knew we would,â he admitted, head so close to hers his breath fanned over her nose. âLoving you is easier than I had expected, Deborah,â
The words were unexpected, but they engraved themselves in the womanâs mind as soon as her brain recepted them. The butterflies in her stomach were making every single muscle in her body tingle, and when one of Matthewâs hands cupped her cheek, Deborah feared her legs would give up on her.
His scent invaded her senses the second he came closer, his lips ghosting over hers as the newfound moment became sweet, tender. âCan I kiss you?â
The sudden ring of his phone snatched them out of their trance, Deborahâs lungs inhaling sharply after what felt like hours. The two of them separated, her cheeks feeling warmer than normal as she watched him look at the screen with what she could only call annoyance.
The device was vibrating in his hand, but he looked like he was contemplating on whether picking up the call or not. The screen read âDadâ, and the grimace on his face was what made Debbyâs heart clench.
âYou should take it,â the words left her mouth before she could even stop them.
âI probably should,â was all he mumbled, sending her a quick look before letting his eyes focus back on the device. Just as he swiped right, Debby pushed herself to the tip of her toes, pressing a swift, lingering kiss on his cheek.
âGoodnight, Matthew,â
As she made her way up the stairs and towards her room, Deborah let her cold fingertips graze the spot where his hand had rested, right on her cheek. She felt like a teenager in love again, a frustrated one, though.
Though they had almost had their first kiss together twice, something had always been in the way. First Noah, then Matthewâs father. Why was everyone keeping her from kissing him?
She wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around him again and let their lips meet, but the universe had been thinking otherwise for what felt like ages. As Debby sat on her bed - still too happy to give up on all the newfound emotions -, she wondered what his lips would taste like, what it would feel like to be his.
After another moment of thinking, she forgot about everyone and everything and rushed down the stairs. The first floor was empty, but the lights in the basement were still casting shade over the stairs, inviting her to step closer.
As she rushed down that smaller flight of stairs too, Debby wondered if it was the right time to do it. To finally live her life a little. She swung the door open, Matthewâs light eyes rushing up from his dark phone screen to her face, a look of shock evident in them.
He sprung to his feet and caught her right before she could fall in his arms. She took a second to wrap her arms around his neck, letting their lips meet in the sweetest kiss sheâd ever experienced.
His lips felt softer than clouds, so gentle against hers she thought she could faint; his arms - tight around her waist - were keeping Deborah close to his body, their warmth familiar. Everything about the moment was perfect, from the way their bodies fit together, to the way she started to struggle for breath.
They parted ways just when they couldnât take it anymore, their foreheads meeting tenderly as they caught their breaths. âWow,â the breathed exclamation made Debby giggle, Matthewâs plush lips painting with a smile as he admired her. âThat was-â
âThat was fucking awesome,â she finished his line, giggling at how childish she sounded. With a shake of her head, she let herself untangle from him, her body missing his warmth. âI uh- I probably should go to sleep,â
Deborahâs gaze was stuck on her feet, rising to meet his eyes just when his thumb and pointer finger lifted up her chin. There was a second before he leaned down to give the woman one last sweet kiss, his lips tenderly moving against hers before parting again.
âGood night, Debby,â
-
Deborah wrapped her cardigan tighter around herself as she leaned on the railing of the balcony overlooking her garden, watching the sunset longingly. The silence surrounding her was peaceful, and she felt relaxed, happy to be free for one last day.
âYouâre gonna catch a cold, again,â
Debby turned around to face Matthew with a smile on her lips, jokingly rolling her eyes as he wrapped an arm around her. âIâm pretty sure colds donât work like that,â
He chuckled, turning around to face the setting sun too. A feeling of dĂ©jĂ vu sent shivers down the womanâs spine, even if she knew that it wasnât just a sensation: her and Matthew had experienced the sunset together before, it wasnât just a feeling.
âThank you for letting me come along,â he mumbled, a hand soothingly playing with her hair as he looked at the sky. âYour family is great,â
His words held a small hint of sadness, so subtle yet present enough to let Debby catch onto it. A part of her wanted to know what caused this sadness every time someoneâs family was mentioned, the other wanted to let him take his time, talk about it whenever he was ready.
She had never been too patient in her entire life: as a kid, sheâd stay awake during Christmas Eveâs night just to wake up as soon as the sun rose to open presents; as a teenager, she felt frustrated whenever sheâd have to wait months to see her favorite artists in concerts. It was something she had always hated, but was never able to control.
For Matthew, though, Deborah was willing to wait.
âYou know, I havenât really had a Thanksgiving like this ever since I was sixteen,â he admitted, voice taking a gravelly tone as he avoided her eyes. âEver since uh- the band grew famous, I guess,â
Debby watched his features take a bitter tone as he kept his gaze focused on the orange landscape. âYou donât have to talk about it, if you donât feel like it, Matt,â
âSomeone needs to know,â he sighed, shrugging gingerly before glancing her way. âThe guys know Iâm not close with my family, but they donât know why. I trust you, and I want you to know,â
Panic set Deborahâs body on fire as she realized she was the first person to know about his family situation. He trusted her.
âMy dad played hockey professionally for almost twenty years, it was in my blood to follow after his footsteps,â he started, interrupting her inner panicked conversation. âI was on skates before I could even walk, had a stick in my hand before I learned how to write, skated behind a puck before I even made friends. He thought it was in my blood.
âBut, fuck, when I first saw a drum set at the age of five and heard my first rock song a few days later, I couldnât care less about hockey and what my dad wanted. I started playing at a friendâs house: his sister owned a drum kit and let me use it twice a week, and music made me happy in a way hockey couldnât,â Matthew admitted. âI played behind everyoneâs backs just so they wouldnât get disappointed in me. Iâd go to hockey practice and work my ass off to make my father happy, then Iâd get on my bike and ride to my friendâs neighborhood to play the drums.
âI took music during High School, and my teacher saw me play. He wanted me to join the schoolâs band, but I needed my parentsâ signatures for that, and I didnât want them to know. Eventually, he accidentally told them I should have pursued my dreams and that night was a fucking mess,â he sighed. âMy mom, she- she didnât mind, she was proud of me. She was happy I was doing what I really wanted to do, even if it was behind their backs. My dad, on the other hand, was pissed that his firstborn son wasnât following his fatherâs footsteps. He had never been one for music,â
Debby let one of her hands slip into his, squeezing his palm gently to send him a non-verbal message of comfort. He was safe to speak, with her. âYou know, I was his pride and joy growing up. He saw me playing ever since I was a child, and when he lost all hope in me when he learned about me playing the drums, it hurt. He loves my brother and sister because they do what he did, my brother even plays professionally like his old man. I was the disappointment of the family, in his eyes.
âI barely even remember how Chordback got together, but we got famous quickly, and I moved out as soon as possible. I wanted to enjoy my life without being under his disappointed glares, you know?â He sighed, shaking his head slightly. âNow I barely go home, and my mom hates it,â
There was a moment of silence as Deborah took in his story, shock filling her body as she breathed out shakily. âMatthew, Iâm so sorry-â
âDonât be,â he chuckled, shrugging as he let his eyes meet hers. âMine isnât a sob story,â
âSo, he called?â She asked, remembering Matthewâs father had called a few nights prior.
âHe wished me a happy Thanksgiving. Mumbled the usual bullshit about the fact that they miss me, that I should go home to at least see my mother,â he sighed. âSame stuff Taryn said over the phone a few months ago,â
Debby bit her lip, watching his tense body as he ran a hand through his hair. She didnât know what to say. She had never expected him to have a story like that: he always looked fine, not a worry in his eyes as he went along with the flow. Yet, so much was hidden behind the barrier that kept the world away from his fragile heart.
Debby did the only thing that seemed to make sense in her mind, which was wrap him in a hug. He didnât reciprocate the embrace for a second, but when his arms wrapped around her waist and his head dropped to the crook of her neck, she knew he needed it.
He needed someone to stabilize him for a second, to silently tell him everything was going to be alright, even if he felt like life was not okay.
She held him until he let go of her, because she remembered her grandmaâs words: you never know how much someone needs a hug, so donât let go until they do.
And by the time the two of them went back to watch the sunset, the future looked clearer.
-----
Life went back in full swing the moment Debby set foot in Calgary, Matthew by her side. Her phone rang with a call from Jean when the two of them went to pick up their bags at the airport, and the overwhelming nerves that came with working in the music industry made their way back in her system.
Days went by before she knew it, her head living in a limbo where all that mattered was her job. And Matthew.
Thanksgiving night couldnât leave Debbyâs head, and she didnât want it to. She found herself thinking about it at night, alone in her cold bed as she begged for some rest, but her mind always thought otherwise.
Seeing Matt at work wasnât easy either: her hands tingled, wanting to touch him; her lips begged to be kissed again, and she couldnât just take it anymore. Staying away from him was what she was bound to do with her job, but all she wanted was to be his.
But it almost seemed like he didnât reciprocate the feeling. There was distance, a lack of communication that was needed between the two of them. How could she figure out what the two of them were, if he didnât talk to her? That was what Debby kept asking herself.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a familiar hand on her shoulder, Noahâs eyes the first thing Deborah saw after daydreaming. âWeâre boarding,â
âAlright,â she nodded her head, inhaling sharply before rolling her suitcase behind herself. The band was headed to New York again, and her and Jean were coming along for the ride, as per usual.
Growing up, traveling was something Debby had always wished to do, especially when she had reached her teen years. Taking the opportunity to become Chordbackâs PA meant that she would have been traveling non-stop, and she had been ecstatic when she landed the job.
Looking back at it, Deborahâs happiness was still there, and saying she loved her job was an understatement. Did she wish for a break every once in a while - even from traveling? Yes, but the music industry never went to sleep.
Debby followed the band towards the plane, her eyes focusing on the sunny sky until the back of a familiar hand ghosted over hers. She looked up to see Matthewâs side profile, a trail of warmth filling her chest when his skin brushed hers, the sleeves of their coats hiding the motions from everyone else surrounding them.
Shivers rushed down her spine as the cold wind pushed her hair out of her face and, eventually, Matthew left her side, her high hopes of seeing any kind of emotion from him slowly lowering. Debby walked up the few small stairs that led inside the jet, shock stopping her right on the last step.
The woman that was greeting the team was smiling widely, her brunette hair pulled into a tight bun as she sported the sharpest uniform Debby had ever seen. She looked beautiful, confidence spilling out of her body as she shook the personal assistantâs hand.
âIâll be your new pilot,â
A smile broke out on Deborahâs face, so wide she was scared it might get stuck there. âItâs a pleasure to meet you,â
By the time she reached her spot next to Jean, she felt quite confused, though. Why had the pilot been fired? Debby was sure nobody had caught onto the way he had been acting with her and how uncomfortable he had her feeling, so why was he gone?
Jean seemed to read her mind. âMatthew fired the old pilot right before Thanksgiving,â she whispered as she touched up her signature red lipstick. âHe said the guy was a perv to the flight assistants,â
Deborah nodded her head along, eyes meeting with Matthewâs. She knew he had been listening to her conversation with Jean all along by the smug look on his face. âYeah Jean, I also beat him up. Just thought you should know,â
The lipstick in her hand almost fell to the floor, a smudge of red painting the corner of her mouth as her eyes widened. âYou what?!â
âI gave him his last paycheck to make him keep his mouth shut, donât worry,â
âMatthew, thatâs even worse!â She screeched, hands shaking as she searched through her purse to find her phone. âOh my God-â
âThe guy deserved it, Jean,â Matthew continued, voice becoming serious. âHe was harassing the assistants and- and Deborah,â
The attention inside the plane shifted towards the woman in question, her heart beating out of her chest as an infinite amount of questions rushed through her mind. How did he notice? Had it been that obvious?
âDebby, is it true?â Jean said in a whisper, shock evident in her voice as her eyes stayed on the assistantâs features.
âI-I mean,â she stuttered, shrugging slightly. âIt wasnât anything too big, but it sure was creepy,â
âYou could have told me sooner,â the manager said, her warm hand resting on Deborahâs forearm in a reassuring manner. âI would have tried to fire him as soon as possible,â
Debby gave her another shrug before shutting up, not wanting to discuss the matter any further. She felt embarrassed enough to let a man do that to her and not react, but when Matthew - the man she had more than a crush on - found out about the entire situation? She had never been more embarrassed.
She popped her earbuds in and watched the land fly past her from her window, hoping that everyone would forget about the matter by the time they landed. It wasnât the case, though.
It was almost night by the time the band arrived in New York, to say Debby was more than tired to reciprocate the kind smiles coming from the hotel clerks was an understatement. Her room card was handed to her after just a few minutes, and the thought of crashing on a bed almost had her yawning.
Matthew walked past her, sending a small smile her way before the doors of his elevator closed. She had been successful at blocking any thought regarding the flight, but the questions still kept her curious, even in her tired state.
Deborah headed towards her room, catching one last glimpse of the drummer disappearing behind her neighboring door. She blew out a sigh, getting inside her room and letting her suitcase fall to the floor, ready to slip into comfortable clothing and get in bed.
With the covers up to her chin, though, her eyes just couldnât close. Debby found herself staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city still awake at the ungodly hour, just like her.
As pathetic as it sounded, she wanted nothing more than to know how Matthew had found out, or even why he had taken it upon himself to fire the pilot. Why had he been so selfless?
The questions kept her awake, and all she wanted was just to sleep. She knew, though, that her body wouldnât rest until her mind shut down, too.
She pushed the covers away, slipping a pair of slippers on and leaving the room sluggishly, eyes tired. As Deborah stopped in front of Matthewâs door, she felt suddenly awake. Nerves started to make her anxious, and she had to push herself to knock before she could rush back to her room with her tail between her legs.
There was a second before the door opened, Matthew looking quite tired too as he ran a hand through his messy hair. âDeb?â
âHow did you find out?â
From the look on his face, Debby knew she didnât need to elaborate her words, to explain what she really wanted to know.
âCome in,â was all he mumbled, opening the door wider for her. She followed his instruction, entering the room that looked the exact copy of hers before sitting down on the corner of his bed.
There was a moment of silence as he stood in front of her, tattooed arms folding over his chest as he bit his bottom lip. For a second, Deborahâs body lit up on fire, craving to feel his lips pressing against hers. She came back to reality and cooled down when she remembered why she was in his room. She needed answers.
âI uh- I noticed you always disassociated when we boarded the plane,â Matthew started, the look on his face turning serious when his eyes met with hers. âAnd at first I thought you were just scared of heights or something, but it didnât make any sense,
âThen the other week I boarded the plane behind you and that motherfucker started hitting on you,â his voice became darker, a hint of protectiveness in his tone Debby had never found before making her hands tremble. âAnd it was clear you werenât reciprocating,â
âYou didnât need to do that for me, you know?â
âI wanted to,â he admitted. âI couldnât stand seeing you like that. I have a sister, and I wouldnât be able to be at peace with myself if I knew something like that was happening to her and didnât do anything to keep her safe, and same applies to you,â
Deborah tried not to acknowledge the warmth inside her chest as her eyes fell to her lap, a sigh leaving her lips. âIt wasnât worth it, Matthew. If people find out you hurt him, there will be chaos,â
âEverything I do for you is worth it, Debby,â he whispered, pushing her chin upwards so their eyes could meet, his orbs laced with fondness. âEven if it means Iâll have to punch a perv and ruin my career. Why canât you understand that?â
The woman shook her head, repressing a small smile before sighing again.
âI need you to be safe, Deborah,â he whispered, voice as tender as a cloud as he spoke to her. âI wouldnât forgive myself if something happened to you without me even noticing,â
The words had tears well up in her eyes, but she fought the urge to let them streak down her face. Nobody had ever cared that much about her, and she felt full of something she couldnât quite place. Love? Fondness?
âPromise me youâll stay safe,â he asked, voice shallow as he cupped her cheek.
âI promise,â
His body inched closer to hers, the only thing separating the two of them being a thin layer of air. His lips fell on Deborahâs after a second, sweetly carefree as she got lost in his scent, his presence.
He was kissing her. She felt more than confused from all the times she felt like he had been avoiding her, but he was kissing her, and she ignored any red flag she could have possibly thought about.
Debby wished to never let go, but her body reminded her that she was more than tired by making her legs give out on her, her embarrassed laugh ending the kiss. âIâm uh- Iâm exhausted from today, I should probably go to sleep,â
Matthew nodded, a silent smile painting his slightly swollen lips as he pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. âIâll see you tomorrow?â
âOf course you will,â
-----
Tomorrow was quite eventful, though. Deborah woke up late, the sound of her alarm not being loud enough to wake her from her deep slumber; she stumbled around her room to get dressed up, sending a quick text to the band to tell them she was going to be late to breakfast, receiving a string of messages explaining they were going to wait for her.
When she left her room, Debby was still half asleep. She registered the voices of the guys, and she registered Matthewâs soft smile, but she went on autopilot when she followed the boys towards the breakfast spot.
Her rough, real awakening happened in front of the cafĂ©, where an unfamiliar girl was waiting for them - or, at least, Noah. She was tall, hair a beautiful shade of blond as a breathtaking smile painted her lips, directed to Noah and Noah only. It looked like she only had eyes for him, and from the way the lead didnât shy away from her attention, Debby realized who she really was. Aleena.
There was a brief moment where they hugged, sharing a laugh as Noah bent down to press a kiss on her cheek before turning around to face Deborah and the rest of the band. As the assistant looked around in pure shock, she noticed that Johnny, Matthew and Elias all shared her same expression.
âGuys, this is Aleena,â Noah said, holding back laughter at the looks on their faces. âSheâll be joining us for breakfast, I hope this isnât a problem,â
âUh, no! Not at all!â Debby exclaimed, pushing herself out of her trance to shake the girlâs hand. âIâm Deborah, the bandâs personal assistant,â
âItâs nice to meet you,â Aleena said, a gentle smile on her lips. The few minutes that followed the encounter were spent with introductions, a thin layer of shock still coating the air as everyone got inside the cafĂ© to place their orders.
âDamn,â Matthew whispered from behind Debby, chuckling as they queued behind other people. âI wasnât expecting him to introduce her this soon,â
âMe neither,â the assistant admitted, looking at him with a smile. âSheâs nice, though,â
He nodded, agreeing with her as she moved forward, repeating her order in her head. âYou think theyâre going public?â Deborah asked, checking her phone for the time before looking back up, waiting for an answer.
âI think Jean is in the dark about this as much as we were,â Matt mumbled, letting his hands rest on her shoulders subconsciously, her heart skipping a beat at his touch. âSo I think he has to tell her first,â
Debby nodded her head, a smile forming on her lips when she came face-to-face with the barista. She placed her order calmly, reaching for her wallet when the moment to pay arrived.
âIâve got it,â
Matthew placed his order and paid for the both of them, not even giving the assistant enough time to fight and pay for her own stuff. âWell, thank you, then,â she said, jokingly rolling her eyes as they grabbed their drink and headed for their table, the drummer sitting next to her after a few seconds.
He had talked to her, paid for her drink, touched her shoulder. At that point, Debby was asking herself where they really were standing. There were moments when she felt like a stranger to him, when he barely even sent a smile her way; other times - mostly behind closed doors -, it felt like she was his, but just when it was needed, not always.
The empty table became quite crowded after everyone sat down with their breakfast. âSo, new album and tour this year, boys,â Elias smirked, taking a sip of his coffee. âMissed that shit,â
âAlbum drops in a month, so youâve still got some time to put some final touches,â Deborah pointed out. âThen tour is in a couple of months,â
A few nods came from around the table, her eyes settling on Aleena as she silently sipped on what Deborah could only guess was a latte. âAre you coming along, Aleena?â
The new addition seemed to be shocked by Debbyâs question, almost choking on her drink as she opened her mouth to speak. âI uh- we havenât really talked about it, yet,â she said, looking up at Noah with so much admiration it made the assistantâs heart clench.
Debby nodded, smiling her way before sipping her drink, a hint of jealousy of what the couple had sending shivers down her spine. Breakfast went faster than she had expected as she found herself talking to Noahâs girlfriend with the group and enjoying her company, and by the time they left the place, Deborah was sad to leave Aleena behind.
The band needed to get to the studio to discuss the upcoming release and tour, though, and the group and Aleena had to part ways.
âI think we should celebrate,â Elias pointed out, leaning on his chair with his arm behind his head. âHave a few drinks, go to a club,â
âWe havenât even released the news, Elias,â Jean sighed, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
âWhy not, though? We could just have a party before everything gets released, just us,â
Jean spit out a laugh at the âjust usâ, making the guitarist scowl jokingly. âBack to the album. Itâs done, then?â
âAlmost,â Noah corrected. âWe could pull an all-nighter tonight and just finish it,â
Matthew nodded, followed by Johnny and Elias. Everything seemed to be on board, and Deborah felt happy. The band was back to normal: the fights had come to a halt, they were about to release their newest - and best, by far - album, and they were going on tour again.
One thing was holding back her happiness, though, and it was confusion.
What the hell was happening with Matthew?
The walk from the cafĂ© to the studio had been enough to send her in a spiral of thoughts, finally realizing that what was going on between the two of them wasnât quite right. For some reason, she wanted nothing more but to know where she stood in his life, if she mattered or if she was just another groupie.
Bitterness filled her mouth as she found him staring, embarrassment making her feel numb. It had taken her so long to realize that he was playing a game, and she felt stupid.
Debby lifted herself up from her chair, grabbing her purse. âIâll head out to take a breather,â
And when he didnât even spare her a glance, she knew she needed to figure out what was really happening between the two of them.
Deborah wasnât another fucking groupie, that she was sure of.
-
âAlright, weâre almost done, guys,â Noah mumbled, eyes cast on the laptop sitting in front of him as Johnny stood behind him, arms folded over his chest.
âFinal touches?â Elias popped from the bathroom, still drying his hands with a paper towel.
âYeah,â Matt murmured. The drummer was sitting on the couch right in front of Deborahâs, a look she couldnât quite read painting his features.
The all-nighter the guys had pulled had been going on for hours, and she was quite tired. The moon was peeking over a thick set of curtains, wishing to get her attention by painting a white streak inside the studio. Her head was pounding, but she wanted to assist to the start of Chordbackâs new era. Sleep wasnât on her schedule, at least until the band finally was done.
The late hour was taking a toll on everyone, but even through their almost bloodshot eyes, Debby could tell the guys were more awake than they had ever been. The air felt exciting, and she felt like she had nothing to lose.
âAnd weâre done,â
Noahâs words had the entire room in silence, even the rustling of the wind outside came to a halt when he spoke. Debbyâs heart raced, a smile forming on her lips as she looked up at the lead, nothing but respect in her eyes.
âHoly fucking shit-â Elias whisper-yelled, running a hand through his messy hair before breaking the silence with a shocked laugh. âHoly shit-â
âWeâre done!â Johnny exclaimed, his voice louder than his bandmateâs.
âFuck yes,â Matthew smirked, throwing a fist in the air in celebration before pulling Noah in a hug. âWe did it, man,â
Deborah congratulated the boys, hugging each one of them like a proud little sister before she got to Matthew, her heart clenching. Where the hell did she stand? âGood job, Matt,â she smiled awkwardly, leaning in to give him a quick side hug.
âDeb-â
âShould we pop a bottle open?â Elias asked, his frame hunched over the minibar. When he rose back to his full height, he was holding a bottle of champagne, his familiar smirk keeping the left corner of his mouth up.
âHell yes!â Noah chuckled, looking around to find some flutes only to find himself helpless: there werenât glasses to celebrate with. Debby didnât need him to even send a glance her way, her hands already gathering her stuff.
âDebby, can we-â
âIâll go get someone for you,â she said to the lead, slinging her purse over her shoulder. âI was heading out anyway,â
âAlready? Darling, this is the best part and youâre leaving,â Elias said, voice holding the flirty tone that she knew he couldnât even control.
âIâm sure we can celebrate when the dates will be released,â Deborah winked his way, opening the door and stopping right before she could walk inside the fancy hallway. She turned around, facing all of them before pointing a finger their way. âDonât do anything stupid,â
âYes, maâam,â was the only answer she could hear as she stepped out of the room, reaching the closest desk where Maria - the kind receptionist she grew to be friends with - was smiling, not a trace of tiredness in her dark eyes.
âMaria, can you please send some flutes to Chordbackâs studio?â She asked, slipping her coat on just as some footsteps started to sound behind her. âThey just finished their album,â
âOf course. Heading out?â
âYes,â she sighed, stopping in her tracks just when she heard a familiar voice calling her name.
âDeborah, wait,â
Matthew was rushing down the hallway, hair stuck in an unusual nest as he sported a confused look. Another sigh left Debbyâs lips, her eyelids closing as she turned around to face him. âWhat, Matthew?â
âWhatâs up with you? Did I do something wrong?â
âWhat do you mean whatâs up with me?â
âYouâve been acting weird, today,â he pointed out. âYou were okay this morning, and then you gave me the cold shoulder the entire day. Really, what the hell have I done?â
âWhat the fuck are we doing, Matt?â
His eyebrows furrowed as he received a question, instead of an answer. His mouth opened but closed again, only to leave the woman with silence. She took it upon herself to keep the conversation going. âBecause our points of view are clearly not the same,â
âWhat are you talking about, sweetheart?â
The pet name made Deborah flinch, her heart doing a forbidden cartwheel as she cursed herself for even feeling that way during an argument. âIâm talking about the fact that we kissed on Thanksgiving, you protected me from that fucking asshole of a pilot, asked me to promise to be safe, and I still donât know whether you want this to happen or not!â The words came out louder than she had expected, but she didnât care. She was exasperated and she needed to know. âAnd, for Godâs sake, donât call me sweetheart,â
Deborah was faced with another moment of silence, Matthewâs face taking an expression she couldnât quite read. She had never heard silence that loud, and his lack of words was enough to answer every single question of hers.
âI donât have time for your silence, Iâm heading out,â Debby spat out, clutching her bag closer before muttering her next words. âIâll see you tomorrow,â
When she had first thought about confronting Matthew, she thought it wasnât going to affect her. But by the time she left the tall skyscraper, remembering the conversation the two of them had had on its top at sunset, she couldnât tell if the wetness on her face was formed by the rain or the tears.
She felt empty, even if the argument was for the best. She had done nothing to deserve to get played by a man like Matthew - rich, with nothing to lose - and she knew her worth. But God, did it hurt.
Deborahâs hopes had been over the roof from the start, but he had just led her on, like men like him do with groupies. He needed to figure out what he felt and where he wanted things to go, because she already knew where she stood about that.
Noah and Aleena were happy, so happy. They looked like they were fitted perfectly for each other. Naively, she had thought she and Matthew could have been the same.
But clearly, a happy ending in her love life still wasnât planned.
-----
âOkay, so Rolling Stones interview on the fifth?â She asked Jean, eyes stuck on her laptop as she scrolled through Chordbackâs schedule. âThe day after the album release? Wow,â
âYeah, they were begging us to be the first ones to get an interview,â Jean sighed, sipping on her coffee before looking down at her own papers. âThen we have a few more interviews,â
âAnd all the radio interviews during-â
âFlowers for Deborah?â
The words had the assistant frowning in confusion, her eyes turning up to see a delivery man standing on the doorway of the meeting room. He held a large bouquet of flowers, the composition looking lovely even from the distance.
Debby rose from her chair with uncertainty clear in her features, grabbing the bouquet from his larger hands. âYou sure itâs for Deborah? I havenât received flowers ever since graduation,â
The man chuckled, the smile not quite reaching his eyes as he checked his watch, probably in a rush. â100% sure. Have a nice day, maâam,â
He was out of eyesight before she could even thank him - or ask him to check again -, her eyes focusing on the gift in her hands as the room filled with silence. Who the hell could have sent her flowers? A small whistle brought the woman back to reality, making her turn around to face Jean. âSecret admirer?â
Was it her ex? âI didnât even know I had one,â
Deborahâs fingers caressed the delicate petals until something sharp came in contact with her skin. The small piece of paper was looking up at her as if it was begging to be read, her heart hammering as she let her fingertips graze over it.
I know this isnât much, but it is the start. - M
âOh my God,â she muttered under your breath, sighing loudly. Matthew?
And he didnât lie in the note: with each and every passing day, gifts were waiting for Debby at her hotel door, at the recording label, even in her bathroom. She had received multiple bouquets of flowers, a cute tote bag she had seen on a specific Etsy store and mumbled about for weeks, skincare products she still was missing, and what the hell?
Every single present was paired with a message written in Matthewâs chicken scratch, his words meaningful even through paper, and what the fuck was happening?!
Jean would strangle out a laugh every time sheâd see a new gift waiting for Deborah, muttering about the fact that not even her ex-husband was as passionate about forgiveness after cheating as Matthew was. Though she looked completely fine on the outside, Debby didnât know how to feel.
In some ways, she felt childish for even arguing with him: he was a busy man, he didnât have time for relationships. At the same time, though, she felt like she deserved more than to be played like a game, like she was nothing more than a stranger to him.
Certainly, getting spoiled by the man she almost yelled at really didnât help with making Deborah feel like what she did was right, especially since it looked like he was trying his everything to get one last chance.
âAre you ever going to forgive this poor secret admirer?â Jean asked, eyes not even leaving her paper as Debby sat in front of her, miserably looking at the pins she had just received. The pastel-colored items she had liked on Instagram just a few days prior felt cold in the assistantâs hands, and it wasnât the first time sheâd started questioning her life choices. âHe looks like heâs desperately trying to win you back,â
âAnd he is,â Deborah sighed, burying her face in her hands before looking up at the ceiling. âI feel like it was stupid of me to start a fight, you know?â
âWhy donât you just talk to him, then?â In some ways, the assistant was thankful Jean didnât know Matthew was the main character of the conversation.
âBecause Iâm scared heâll hate me,â
The woman laughed loudly, making Deborah turn as small as an ant right in front of her. âOpen your eyes, will you, girl? The man is whipped. A man who doesnât know a womanâs worth wouldnât chase or wait for her,â
Her words engraved themselves in Debbyâs mind, their truth so candid she couldnât even question it. She remembered what her grandma had told her after her first big heartbreak: thereâs plenty of fish in the sea, but Deborah knew her granâs advice wouldnât apply with Matthewâs situation.
âI just- I donât know what to do,â
âHas he been good to you? Has he treated you well?â Jean asked, her eyes boring into Debbyâs when she nodded her head. âThen donât think and do whatever your heart tells you to do,â
The assistant watched her for a swift second, lifting herself up from her chair and grabbing her purse. âIâm heading off,â
âUse protection!â Jean yelled behind her, a laugh leaving her lips before she mumbled under her breath. âGod, when did I start being so poetic?â
With her heart hammering against her rib cage, Debby rushed through the busy streets of New York, meeting Matthew being the only thought on her mind. To her luck, the hotel the band was staying in was not too far away from their studio, and by the time she opened her room door to get rid of her coat, she wasnât too exhausted.
She was confused, though. Sitting right under her feet was a piece of paper, the writing so familiar. She grabbed it from the floor, skimming through the words before realization struck her like lightning.
It was a song.
Matthew had written her a song.
Tears welled up in Deborahâs eyes as she read, hands shaking as she bit her lip. She couldnât let him go.
It was a love song, the words so gentle and heart-clenching. Admiration, love, and passion were spilling out of them in waves Deborah wasnât ready to let go of yet, so she read it another time. And then another, and another, and another.
She walked out of the room with tears streaming down her face - not caring if other guests saw her in the meantime - still holding the notebook page in her hand. As she faced his door, something inside her seemed to turn on: nervousness.
What if he wasnât at the hotel? What if her silence had made him give up?
All her questions got an answer when Matthew opened the door, a tired look on his face. His hair was a mess, and he didnât look like his normal self, like Matthew.
âDeborah?â
âYou wrote me a song?â
The drummer sighed, opening the door wider to let the woman in. âI uh- I started writing it a few months ago, when everything started, you know-â
His room was dark, but Debby could make out his half-packed suitcase, his clothes sitting messily all over the floor. The thought made its way in her head, but it seemed so out of character for Matthew that she couldnât even believe it was real. The whole conversation about the song dropped. âYou- are you leaving?â
âI have no reason to stay here,â he sighed, running a hand through his tousled hair before slightly cleaning up. âAlbum is done, and we have a few weeks before our first interview. Also, I kind of grasped the two of us are actually done, so I really didnât have a purpose here,â
His lonely words had Deborahâs heart clenching, her smaller hand clutching his as she turned around to face him. âI love you,â she breathed out shakily, the three-worded sentence she had been thinking about for months finally slipping out of her parted lips. âI love you so much, and I fucked up,â
Matthew looked shocked as he took in her words, eyes slowly widening. âDeb-â
âI know itâs too soon, you donât have to say it back, but I felt like you should have known,â she said, breathing out a sigh of relief as a weight she didnât know she was holding was pushed off her shoulders. âYouâre a busy man, relationships probably arenât what you want at the moment, and it wasnât my place to get pissed off,â
âI love you, Deborah,â he admitted. âI wasnât kidding when I said that loving you was easier than I had expected,â
Another set of tears had her eyes burning, her hand intertwining with his as she looked up at him. âIâve never been good with words, or emotions, and thatâs why there was miscommunication between us,â
âFuck-â Deborah closed her eyes, guilt rushing through her. âIâm fucking awful, this is all my fault,â
âHey, it was bound to happen, at some point. To be honest, I probably should have made it clear that I loved you a long time ago, I donât know what was holding me back,â Matthew said, gently cradling her face. âBut weâre here now, and weâre fine,â
âIâm sorry,â she whispered, emotions spilling from her words as she watched him through her teary gaze. âIâm so sorry,â
âI donât want you to be,â he murmured back, letting his thumbs brush a few tears away. There was a beat as his warm breath fanned over her features, her eyes focusing on his stormy ones as silence settled between them. She was in his arms, the two of them were okay. âDebby?â
âHm?â
âI want the world to know how much you mean to me,â he whispered in her ear, his voice sending shivers down her spine. âI want to make you mine,â
âSay the words, Matt,â Deborah murmured, arms wrapping around his neck as her lips ghosted his. âSay the words and Iâll be yours,â
There was a beat, a long one, before Matthew let his lips brush hers in a gentle - but desperate - kiss. The drummerâs hands were everywhere as the two of them kissed, not a worry in the world as her back hit the soft comforter of the roomâs bed.
âBe mine, Deborah,â Matthew breathed out when his lips left hers, his orbs maintaining eye contact. âIâll find a way to give you my world,â
She bit her lip, smiling as she watched the man in front of her - the man she loved - offer her his love with just the power of his words.
âYou already do, Matt,â Debby whispered, bringing him closer to press another kiss to his slightly-swollen lips. âIâm yours,â
-----
âWhy the fuck am I nervous? Iâm not even going on stage,â Deborah mumbled, words coming out rushed as she stood outside the green room with Aleena, her friendâs laughter filling her ears.
âTheyâve been doing this for years, hun. Theyâre probably not even nervous themselves,â Noahâs girlfriend said, voice gentle as her arm wrapped around Debbyâs. âAnd we both know theyâre going to kill it,â
âThatâs true,â the personal assistant nodded her head, taking a sip of her water just as the door of the room opened, Chordback coming out looking as mesmerizing as ever. They were a mess of tattoos and pearly white smiles, ready to take on the first stage of the tour and make the crowd go wild.
Noah, in his old-school-love fashion, wrapped Aleena in his arms, owning a little squeal as he lifted her off the floor. âPut me down, idiot!â
Elias and Johnny, too busy talking to each other about their improvised solos, didnât even glance Deborahâs way, heading towards the stage by following the staff. Matthew, on the other hand, took a moment to let his eyes focus on his girl.
âYou look beautiful,â he said, voice low as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Debbyâs sundress clung to her body the way she knew he loved, and the smile on his face was enough to make the butterflies in her stomach start their never-ending dance.
âYou donât look too bad yourself,â she giggled, taking his hand and leading him towards the side of the stage, where everyone was standing. The other band that was opening the concert was still going strong, the crowd enjoying the background music as they waited for Chordback to start their tour with a bang.
The last few notes of a song she had heard many times before owned claps and screams from the public, a few whistles also shaking the arena. Debby stood next to Aleena as she smiled, the feeling of hearing the public again making the assistantâs legs almost give up on her.
She had started her job when the band was already almost at the end of their second tour, and it had been a chaotic way to start her first job in the music industry. She hadnât been able to get to know the band members, and she hadnât been able to enjoy even a bit of traveling.
That time, though, it was different. She was there as Chordbackâs personal assistant, but also as Matthewâs girlfriend. The experience itself was going to be new, unexpected.
âGood luck,â she told Matt just as the opening band started to leave the stage. Debby leaned up on the tip of her toes, pressing a kiss to his lips.
âI donât need that,â he smirked, winking down at her before kissing her again, this time passionately. âI already have my lucky charm with me,â
Deborah shook her head, pushing out a giggle as he backed off, tugging the drumsticks from his back pocket. âCheesy, Matthew,â
âWhat do you expect from me?â
As the stage grew dark, the band entered the stage, filling their designed spots just as a few yells and cheers filled the air. The first sound came from Matthewâs drumsticks, and the place lit up as the opening song started, the song that had brought the newest album to the top of the charts: Aleenaâs song.
Matthew smiled Deborahâs way gingerly as he started to play, her heart skipping a beat. As she watched him play, she couldnât exactly tell why all the fondness inside her body seemed to come out just then. It felt strange.
Though after a few moments of wondering, she realized what it really was. Proudness. Deborah was proud of the little kid that snuck out of the house to practice the drums in a house five blocks away, she was proud of the teenager that followed his dreams even when his father was disappointed in him. She was proud of Matthew and the man he had become.
She was proud of him, and she loved him, more than she loved herself.
Matthew was her home, her safe place. He was a part of the life she was hoping to bring along in the future, and he was the person she wanted to wake up next to every morning.
Back at her childhood home during Thanksgiving, he had said that loving her was easier than he had expected.
He hadnât realized, though, that loving him was the easiest part of Deborahâs life. A part that she was willing to carry with her for the rest of her life.
Taglist:Â @thirstyybitchâ @bellaguarneriâ @boqvistsbabeâ @trashforbarzalâ @tonguetiedstanâ @keithseabrook27â @heatherawoowooâ @tysonsjostyâ â
#matthew tkachuk#matthew tkachuk x reader#matthew tkachuk imagine#nhl x reader#calgary flames#hockey imagine
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george weasley x fem!reader
warnings: smut, oral (male receiving), swearing, spelling/grammar mistakes.
do not read if you are not comfortable.
summary: When the twins and the reader move into their new apartment in Diagon Alley, you finally confess to George about the feelings youâve accumulated through the years, which eventually leads to more.
a/n: This was request from anonymous for a george weasley x reader, first time smut, thank you for requesting, I had a lot of fun writing this!
word count: 4k
enjoy <3
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âGive her hell from us Peeves!â Three voices cry before soaring away into the clear blue sky.
Everyone knows of the Golden Trio, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. The students who disobeyed every rule, every year to save the wizarding world.
In the Hogwarts walls there was another group of students, while not as heroic, were just as well known. George Weasley, Fred Weasley and Y/n L/n were the notorious pranksters of the school. You couldnât walk ten feet without someone being a victim of their work. For years, the school was their playground, pranks ranging from covering students in feathers, slipping belch-powder in professorsâ tea and making products of their own that would take the world by storm in the years to come.
Every student at Hogwarts knew their group by name, swiveling heads in alertness when one of your voices was about, or running the opposite way when a familiar laugh rang out. There was never one without the others, so when your grand scheme of fireworks and sparks flew through the air, no one was surprised to see three brooms zipping about, accompanied by laughter and the screams of the pink toad who had terrorized the school of magic. Your names would go down in history among the students and as you zipped away through the clouds, a giant âWâ in your wake. The joyous feeling of freedom breaks free and you join the twins in the life youâd been dreaming about since you met the two in your first year, and away from the hell youâd endured.
With the help of Harryâs generous donation, the three of you set up shop in Diagon Alley, making the most bizarre and far-out designs the three of you could think of. Working long and hard to perfect each and every one of your products for your grand opening in a couple months.
The three of you spent most of your time in the apartment above the shop, concocting your brews and relishing in the new-found freedom you had taken for yourselves. The three of you worked, laughed, high-fived and dusted each other off after bad days, you grew even closer to the twins and with the new atmosphere and life, and feelings youâd accumulated through the years came about that had your stomach erupt in butterflies around your best friend.
If you were to ask anyone in Hogwarts about the mischief trio, first youâd see their head swivel and panic cross their eyes, next theyâd tell you. While you were all close and the twins were practically connected at the hip, George Weasley and Y/n L/n had an unspoken âthingâ between them, and it was quite obvious to everyone, but them, and although clichĂ© it was one of the castleâs favourite subjects for drama.
While oblivious to the gossip, George had fancied you since the moment he met you in first year. Watching your eyes light up at him and his twinsâ antics and then showing them some tricks of your own. He mustâve been blushing beet-red because at that moment he fell. He fell for your sarcastic remarks, your love for books and muggle movies, he fell for the way your nose scrunched when you were concentrating and the way your eyes lit up whenever it snowed. George could go on for hours about all the things he loved about you, but actually telling you was a whole other story. You were such a positive, bubbly person, he could hardly tell the difference between a romantic or platonic action. Did you mean to brush his hand like that? Was that little smirk for a reason? Did you know what you did to him when you bit your lip like that? Or when you walked with a little more swing in your hips.
George wanted nothing more than to wrap you into his arms and hold you close against him, murmuring every moment he fell in love with you into your ear, listening to your heartbeat and pressing kisses across your temple, but at the same time he wanted to make you squirm beneath him, make you scream his name and take away your ability to walk, leave his mark across your skin and taste you. He just wished he had a hint to how you really felt about him.
âOi, George! Get down here, we need some help with this stand!â Fredâs familiar shout shakes the daydreaming red-head out of his daze, cutting his thought of you short.
âAlright ya twat, no need to yell!â George huffs, speeding down the stairs to the shop area and walking towards you and Fred.
âHow can I be of assistance, my dear brother.â George smirks as he approaches. âWell this stand wonât fit in between the other displays, we just need help pushing it in.â You shrug, jabbing your thumb towards the empty display stand.
George claps his hands together and the three of you get to work. You did your best to pry one of the displays to the side while the twins push the stand into place. Everything was going well, you made great progress and the display case was starting to slide in. It wasnât until the twins gave a final heave, that you lost focus, your eyes dropping to a certain twinâs toned bicep, peeking out from his skin tight shirt, and you failed to remove your finger from the crevice.
âBloody Hell!â You cry as your fingers are crushed in the closed space. Quickly yanking your digits out of the gap, you hold them close to your chest, you double over in pain. âFuck, that hurt.â You groan, examining your fingers to be lightly scratched and bruised.Â
George can only just register your pained yelp before heâs fussing all over you just like his mother would. âOh my goodness, are you alright love? I left my wand in my room, come on, Iâll fix you right up.â George gently takes your arm and hurries up the stairs leaving a confused Fred behind.Â
âHey itâs alright Georgie, itâs just a small cut!â You try to reason with the persistent ginger, but George doesnât let go. âNonsense darling, your finger is bleeding, Iâll heal it in no time.â He continues, sitting you on his bed as he picks up with wand from his bedside drawer and takes a seat next to you.
You extend your hands to George and without a beat he murmurs the healing spell. âEpiskey.â
Your cuts begin to close and the bruises fade away, leaving no pain and no sign of injury. âThanks George, youâre the best!â You giggle wrapping your arms around the tall Weasley and inching closer to him.
It had become something of a tradition for the two of you to heal each other if one of you were to get hurt back in school. Whether youâd scraped a knee or had come to the other bearing Umbridgeâs scar, youâd done your best to help one another, learning new healing spells for this specific reason.Â
A smile spreads across your cheek as you think back to the days youâd run to George with a burn or a cut, only coming to peace once heâd had a go at it, or at least wrapped it in a bandage.
âDo yo remember, back in Hogwarts, when weâd come to each other just to heal our little wounds.â You pull back from the hug and take Georgeâs hand in yours.Â
âOf course darling, how could I forget.â George grins, reminiscing of the days not so long ago.Â
Back in your days with the pink toad, George would be the first person youâd run to after detention, small sobs racking through you as you showed George the first of many scratches in the back of your hand.Â
âI must not laugh in classâÂ
George had helped you reduce it to a pink scar, but the pain remained with you for long after as the memories of that horrid quill raked your brain.
George was always your comfort, heâd stuck by your side and was there for you when you needed it the most. Long nights of star-gazing, studying, planning and laughing had also helped you come to terms with the love bubbling inside you for George Weasley.
âThank you for everything, back in school I mean.â You sigh, leaning onto Georgeâs broad shoulder, a light smile gracing your face.
âThereâs no need to thank me love, if anything I should be thanking you for saving me from detentions.â George smirks, wrapping an arm around you. You begin to laugh a bit as you think back to when youâd trick filch into leaving his post before pulling the red-head through the long halls.Â
âFeels like so long ago.â You murmur and look up towards George, finding him already gazing back at you. âLast time you did it was only a year ago love.â The younger twin smiles, leaning closer.
Your eyebrows knit together and your face heats up at the sudden closeness and a question that has plagued your mind for years spills from your lips.Â
âNot to be nosy, but why do you always call me darling or love, Georgie?âÂ
This was it, Georgeâs thoughts began to race. This was the moment he could finally confess to you, finally know how you felt about him.Â
His lips turn up into a huge smile, as he pulls you closer to him and looks down for a moment, gathering courage.Â
âY/n, Iâve fancied you since the moment I saw you on the train. You immediately caught my attention, but once I really got to know you, I knew that I was done for. Youâre so funny, beautiful and absolutely perfect, but youâve never really showed me you fancied me and-â George pauses for a moment, trying to pick his words right. âWell, I just want to know how you feel.â He simply states, looking deep into your mesmerizing e/c eyes.Â
Your smile widens as George finishes his confession, and tackling the red-head onto the bed you hug him tight against you.Â
âI fancy you too idiot! Why else do you think Iâd only go to you for my scars and bruises, why Iâd save you from detention all those times, Iâve fallen in love with you!â A melodic laugh rings from your lips as George wraps his arms around you with a hearty chuckle, pressing kissing on your head just like heâd dreamed of doing.Â
Rolling the two of you over, George now on top, the blushing ginger admires your laughing form beneath him. You were positively angelic and he couldnât help himself from what came next.
George leans down and captures your lips in his, snaking his arm up to hold your hand against the mattress while the other cups your face. The kiss is chaste at first as George familiarizes himself with your lips, truth be told he hadnât had his first kiss yet, only daydreamed of doing it with you. Now, with your lips finally against his, he wanted it to be perfect.
Running his tongue against your bottom lip, George wordlessly asks for permission to deepen the kiss, nipping lightly on your soft pink lips. Parting your lips you allow George to run his tongue around your mouth, as your teeth clash and your tongues swirl around each other.Â
George eventually pulls away to catch his breath, never letting go of your hand and stroking your cheek with his thumb. âYou donât know how long Iâve wanted to do that love.â the prankster smiles, pressing a small kiss to your nose.Â
âOh I can imagine, especially with that pressure on my thigh.â Your eyebrow raises in a teasing tone as George goes a brilliant shade of scarlet, his freckles seemingly disappearing under the dark hue.Â
âI- uh, Iâm sorry. Itâs just-â George begins to ramble, trying his best to explain himself to no avail.Â
A small smirk plays on your lips as you capture Georgeâs lips into a loving kiss again.Â
âItâs alright Georgie, I want this too.â You sigh onto the gryffindorâs lips, circling your hips around underneath him.
George lets out a low moan at your action, squeezing your hand and looking back into your eyes, pupils dilated and dark with lust. âIâve never done this before.â You admit, running a finger up and down Georgeâs side, glancing down at his lip caught in between his teeth.Â
âI havenât either, but Iâve imagined doing this with you before.â George shrugs, removing his hand from your cheek and placing it on the waistband of your shorts. âThat makes two of us.â You tease, running your free hand up the beaterâs toned chest.Â
George doesnât hesitate to crash his lips onto yours again, rolling his hips against you. Your mouth parts enough for him to slip his tongue past your lips again and explore every inch of your opening as his hand pulls the waistband of your shorts down your thighs before promptly flicking them to the floor. George uses his long digits to tease your clit through your panties as he kisses down your jaw and collarbone nipping and sucking, leaving a path of pink marks down your upper chest. âSo wet for me already love?â He smirks as his fingers find the soaked patch on your heat, eyes darkening as he pushes harder against your clit.
âYes George, f-fuck, right there.â You plead softly as George continues to ravage your clit, hitting the sensitive bud perfectly and sending waves of pleasure through your being. The gryffindor obliges, rubbing your heat faster and harder as your eyes shut and your head falls back against the soft pillows, allowing George access to your neck, sucking dark hickeys onto your skin as you writhe beneath him from the stimulation from his fingers and lips were granting.Â
Slowly inching your fingers up, you pull the beaterâs shirt up to his chest, motioning him to take it off as your fingers move lower to the waistband of his trousers. George removes his fingers from your panties to teasingly pull off his shirt, sitting up a bit to show off his toned abdomen, taking his sweet time to throw the shirt aside and fix up his short hair, sending a wink down at you.Â
Your hands seem to gain a consciousness of their own, slowly tracing down each muscle, drawing dangerously low before George leans down to push your shirt up your chest. Raising your arms, your shirt joins Georgeâs on the floor. âYouâre absolutely stunning love.â George praises as he reaches behind your body to unclasp your black bra, quickly throwing it away and pressing kisses across your breasts.Â
You begin to run your hands up the toned red-heads chest when he takes hold of your hands and pins them above your head against the soft cushion, his grip soft, but firm, unabling you to move despite how hard you squirmed.Â
âDonât bother darling, now stay still like a good girl.â George smirks, lust evident in his low rasp as he kisses down your naked chest, swirling his tongue around your nipples and massaging them with his calloused hand. Your attempts to escape Georgeâs grasp are forgotten as his teeth begin to nibble on your sensitive buds. Head falling back between your arms, you arch your back against George, silently begging for more. George grins into your skins and pulls back to admire your pleading form, reaching down to undo his belt with a small fumble, eventually pulling his trousers and briefs down completely. Your eyes fly open at the feeling of Georgeâs hard cock brushing up against your inner thigh as Georgeâs dark, brown eyes display a playfulness as he teases his tip against your clothed core.Â
You begin to struggle against Georgeâs grip again, wanting to take his throbbing length into your mouth and make him beg beneath you. Unfortunately, George has different plans and his clutch stays firm.Â
âAh ah ah, just let me make you feel good y/n, save that for another time.â George purrs, hooking his fingers into your panties and pulling them down your legs. Your arms grow limp as George uses his hand to spread your thighs apart and place himself between your thighs. Right in front of where you needed him most. âPlease donât tease me anymore George, I-I need you.â You beg shakily, desperately rolling your hips to gain any friction, your timid demeanor being overthrown by overstimulation and need.Â
âPatience darling, youâll get me I promise.â George smirks, closing the space between you to press another heated kiss to your lips and continuing to coat himself in your slick, sliding himself up and down. Bringing his free hand to your clit again, George pushes his thumb to your sensitive bundle of nerves, swirling it around with a light pressure, swallowing your loud moans into the kiss. Once you were squirming beneath him again, back arched and hips thrusting up for more, he finally begins to push himself into your soaked core.
A feeling of ecstasy and satisfaction runs through your veins, bringing a whole new feeling of pleasure and clouding all your senses as George pushes deeper into you, awakening an intoxicating new feeling you could get addicted too.
George pauses for a moment, pulling away from the kiss for a moment to check in on how you were. Your eyes are shut, your mouth agape in a small âoâ and with the loss of his lips, desperate moans spill past your lips, mixing beautifully with Georgeâs name.Â
The toned red-head begins to thrust in and out, incoherent groans falling from his lips as your core clenches around him and your hips buck up to greet him. Picking up the pace. You cry out Georgeâs name over and over again as he continues to snap his hips in and out of you, your body growing limp and your eyes rolling into the back of your head with each thrust. George continues to pound deep into you using all his strength to go deeper and harder, reintroducing his fingers to stroke your clit as he desperately swirls and thrusts his hips.Â
âFuck, you make me feel so good darling.â George growls against your ear, peppering kisses to your jaw and burying his face into your neck to try and stifle his loud moans.Â
With George whispering sinful praises into your ear you can feel a knot tighten in your lower stomach, and your hips begin to buck again and again, begging for release. âOh fuck George, d-donât stop, Iâm gonna cum.â You mewl breathily.
George, fueled by your moans pushes himself even more, thrusting and swirling his hips until he feels your core clench deliciously against him and your shaky moan cry out.
As your coil snaps, spots flood your vision and your body tenses as shockwaves of euphoria shake your body and your hands beg to grip onto something, cries of pleasure mix with the sound of Georgeâs skin hitting yours as the beater continues to snap his hips into your throbbing core, his cock twitching and pulsing deep inside you as you ride out your orgasm and his release builds up.Â
George throws your leg over his shoulder in a desperate action for release, using the new angle to push deeper into you and feeling your core contracts to grip his cock, driving him absolutely insane.Â
âOh my Godric, George you make me feel so fucking good, please let me help you.â You look up to your constricted hands and back into Georgeâs dark orbs, pleading with him to release you.Â
George gives a couple more lazy thrusts before he releases your hands and pulls himself out of you. Despite your legs being unsteady, you lay Georgeâs head down on the other end of the bed and begin to kiss down his sweat stained body, slowly making your way down his long body.
Licking a stripe from the base to the tip of his cock, you slowly take Georgeâs length into your mouth, swirling the pulsing tip around your tongue and hollowing your cheeks before going deeper. Georgeâs eyes shut once again as you take him, burying his fingers into your hair and helping you to guide your lips down. Taking what you canât fit into your hands you start to bob your head up and down, using your lips and hands together as you lick and suck at the sensitive skin. George begins to spew profanities and buck his hips into your mouth, pulling your hair up and down a little more forcefully as you begin to gag lightly. George continues to buck and moan, your name being sobbed from Georgeâs lips as he feels his orgasm taking over him and hot cum floods your mouth. You try your best to swallow every drop, only a couple beads sliding down your chin as you lift your head from Georgeâs length.Â
âGod you look so gorgeous with my cum dripping down your face.â George smirks pulling you onto his bare chest and kissing down your cheek. Your only response is a blush as George continues to stare down at you as if you were his last meal, drinking in all of your post-sex features. Messy hair, flushed cheeks, heavy breathing and swollen lips. Sighing, he pushes those thoughts away as he pulls you up to see him face to face.Â
âThat was amazing love, thank you.â George grins, pulling you against his chest and playing with your soft hair.
âOf course Georgie, but Merlin my legs are sore.â You groan into Georgeâs chest as his chest vibrates with a chuckle.Â
âIâm afraid Episkey wonât cut it for that darling.â The red-head prankster teases, reaching down to caress your legs lightly. âThatâs too bad, have you got any other remedies?â You joke, wrapping your arms around Georgeâs torso, a smile growing on your lips.Â
âJust lay here with me darling, Relax.â George sighs, pulling back to gaze into your eyes again with a growing smile. âSounds good.â You respond, a small yawn falling from your lips.
âI-I love you y/n, Iâve fallen in love with you so many times over the years and the fact I still havenât asked you this question yet is killing me, would you be my girl? Please?â George pouts, giving you his best puppy eyes as you giggle and cuddle closer to his chest.Â
âIâd love nothing more, my love.â You sigh happily as Georgeâs eyes light up and he peppers your face with butterfly kisses.
âNext time the two of you shag, at least put a silencing charm over the room!â A disgusted shout, causes the two of your to flinch. âSorry, Fred!â You laugh at the older twinâs plea and turn back to your love. âGuess we were a bit loud, werenât we?â You tease.
âMe? Oh no darling, that was all you.â George smirks. âAnd whoâs fault was that?â You reason, pressing a gentle kiss to Georgeâs lips once again.Â
âAll mine, I can say that with honor.â The red-head smiles victoriously and pulls you against him again with a chuckle.
âGodric, I can still hear you!â Fredâs annoyed scream rings through the room again.
The two of you only laugh at Fredâs interjection, too busy staring into each otherâs eyes to care. The two of you had come so far, from pulling pranks in the Hogwarts halls, running to each other for a spell you could easily perform when you were hurt, to moving into the same apartment to follow your dreams and making love to each other after your confessions of love. Youâd only dreamed of being able to hold the boy whoâd stolen your heart with each Episkey and prank, and here you are lying in his arms with love bites scattered across your chest and legs too tired to move, slowly drifting to sleep as all your dreams came true.
#george weasley fluff#george weasley imagine#george weasley smut#george weasley x reader#george weasley#weasley twins#smut#harry potter imagine#harry potter#fred weasley#weasleys wizard wheezes#cedricsbrowncurls#george weasley x you#george weasley x y/n#x reader#harry potter fandom#weasley family#fred and goerge weasley#nsfw.anya
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S/O Has A Self Harm Relapse - Deku
Original ask here.
A/N: Sorry this took so long! My dms are always open, and Iâm always here to talk to if anyone needs it! I also hope this is relatable, because I know SH can be very personal and everyone has their own reasons. Remember that your progress is valid even when slip ups happen, and that you are loved, always, no matter what.Â
TW: Self harm relapse, general negative thoughts and emotions, implied cutting, I didnât go into detail but itâs still descriptive so PLEASE MIND THE WARNINGS.
Izuku Midoriya/Deku:
âI just donât know what to do, you know? Things are really tough right now, and I feel like youâre the only one taking the time to understand where Iâm coming from. I donât know who else to turn to...â The hurt in your friendâs voice was evident, causing your eyes to crinkle in worry as you gave them a small concerned smile.
âEverythingâs going to be okay. I know it doesnât feel like that right now, but it will be eventually. You just have to trust me.â Your voice held such a confident tone to it, a promise of better times to come in the near future. You sounded like you were sure of it, as if you knew without a shadow of a doubt that things would be okay- and maybe you did. You truly believed it, genuinely felt that your friend would be okay and that things would work out after all.
âYou really think so?â
âI know so,â you responded with conviction.
Just this morning, one of your best friends had texted to ask if you could meet up with them later on in the day to talk about something important. Of course, you being the helpful and loyal friend you were, you immediately agreed and set up a time to see them. It had turned out that they were going through some sort of crisis, something that on the surface didnât seem to be troubling them, but as they went on about their issue, you saw the way it weighed on their shoulders, saw the way it made them doubt themselves.
You knew how it felt to feel like the world was caving in, like there was no hope left for you. Maybe that was the reason you were always so quick to help others; you couldnât stand the thought of the people you cared for feeling the same way. No matter what they needed and no matter when they needed it, you were there. One of your friends got into a fight with their parents? You were there. One of them was having troubles with their partner? You were there. If someone else just needed to vent about their shitty day, you were there; you always were. You could never turn them away even if you felt overwhelmed at your own expense. And it was frustrating, too, because no matter how many times you came to their rescue, no one seemed to want to be there for you. Well...almost no one.
There was one person, the light of your life, Izuku Midoriya. He checked in with you often, would remind you to take breaks for yourself (even if you often ignored his requests to do so, much to his dismay), and kept you going when you felt you couldnât go on any longer. And you were going through so much; between school, work, and home life, you felt completely overwhelmed. Lately, it seemed like your grip on things just seemed to be...slipping. It was getting harder to focus between the sheer amount of anxiety you felt over everything, harder to breathe easy and relax. You supposed it didnât help that Izuku had been away for a few days for some intense type of training, either.Â
Maybe that was the cherry on top, or maybe it was just inevitable, but somehow you found yourself feeling lower than dirt as you sent your friend off with a tight hug, their form fading in the distance as you watched them leave with a deep frown. You understood they had things going on, and of course you didnât expect them to notice you felt a little off, but you wished that maybe they had just asked if you were alright, too. Even a passing, âI hope youâre doing okay,â would have been nice; something, at least, to let you know the feelings were reciprocated on their end as well. Something to let you know they cared. But they werenât, and they didnât, and you sighed heavily as you let your facade shatter around you.
You felt selfish for wishing your friend would care when they were clearly preoccupied with other things. But in the same sense, you couldnât remember the last time someone asked if you were okay. Things were getting bad again, all of your friends and family needed you and were demanding your attention constantly, and now your boyfriend was away for a few days as well. Between the stacking missed calls and texts you needed to respond to and the sheer amount otherâs problems added to yours, it felt like too much. Even the noise of the car radio on the drive home was irritating and overwhelming, and no matter what station you picked, the music and occasional static noise bothered you until you finally had to turn it off completely. But driving in silence proved to be a problem as well, and now you were stuck with the intrusive thoughts in your mind and your heartbeat rushing in your ears.Â
The silence of your empty home was deafening. Izuku, who would usually be lounging on the couch with his favorite All Might blanket watching a movie by now if he was home, was nowhere to be found. The lights on the dishwasher blinked at you from the darkness of the kitchen signaling an empty rack. There were no dishes to clean, no clothes to wash or dry, and the TV screen remained darkened and still; there was nothing to distract your mind from the chaos inside of it. And although you were surrounded by quiet, it was by no means peaceful. You felt on edge, overwhelmed, and alone. It was all too much too fast, and you knew of only one solution to quiet the thoughts in your head, even if it was only a temporary fix.
Right now, in this moment, you just needed everything to stop. You needed a distraction, a different source of pain to redirect your focus. Still, you hated yourself with every step you took until you came to stand in front of the bathroom sink, the familiar cabinet doors leering at you more maliciously than usual.Â
You knew what lied behind those doors in the far left corner on the bottom shelf.
***
It was two more days before Izuku returned home, the telltale sign of jingling keys ringing through the air as he opened the front door and slipped inside. He tossed his keys to the table and kicked off his shoes. You heard him lock the door behind himself, footsteps heavy on the carpeted floor as he dropped his bags in the living room and took a moment to relax and settle in. In a way, you were grateful he didn't immediately come to see you; you were curled up in bed, anxious and ashamed about what you had been doing while he was gone. He wouldnât look at you the same way again after this, you were sure of it.
You listened as Izuku trekked to the bathroom across the hall, and if you payed enough attention with your half lidded eyes, you could make out his darkened blurry form passing by the open bedroom door. He shut the bathroom door behind him before he turned on the lights (he was always courteous of you and your need to sleep in the dark), his electric toothbrush vibrating to life. You stayed put in bed and listened to the sound of it while pretending to be asleep. But as soon as it hard started it was just as abruptly stopping, and for reasons you couldnât place, anxiety bubbled up in your chest as you listened to Izuku go eerily silent for at least a good minute. The light from under the bathroom door shifted as he finally moved, his clothing creating a soft rustling noise while he put his toothbrush back on the counter with a quiet clack.
Sensing that the bathroom door was about to open once more, you turned away from the entryway and faced the wall. You didnât want him to know you were awake; all you wanted was for him to crawl into bed with you and wrap his arms around you like nothing at all had ever happened, like it was any other normal evening. But as luck would have it, that wasnât what happened.
Izuku switched the lights off and exited the bathroom, making the short trip to the bed with ease before he stood still at the foot of it for a moment. There was a soft whisper of something, your name maybe? You were too nervous to tell.
âY/N...?â
Something in his tone caused your heart to race with worry. He was testing you, seeing if you were awake...but for what? He usually knew better than to wake you when he came home any time past midnight, even if it was after a few days of intensive training. If he was trying to get your attention now, then it must be something important. Still, you remained âasleepâ, a sinking feeling in your gut and a terrifying thought at the back of your brain. There was no way he knew...right?Â
When you gave no indication that you heard him, he carefully crawled onto the bed and lie down behind you, arms encasing you protectively and lovingly while he buried his nose into your neck. âY/N,â he said again, his voice raising a bit. You involuntarily tensed at the sound, and you shriveled in horror as Izuku propped himself up on one elbow behind you while he used his other arm to shake you gently. There was no way you were getting out of this now; he knew you were awake by your movements. if you werenât apprehensive before, then you surely were now.
âIzu?â you murmured in your best sleepy voice you could muster.
âHi, love.â There was something in his normally heartwarming smile, something more complicated than usual behind the forest green of his irises as he looked you over. âIâm home.â The crack in his voice took you by surprise, and you saw tears beginning to form on his long lashes.
âIzu, whatâs wrong?â You immediately reached out to him, your insecurities and worries all but forgotten about in the moment. âDid something happen while you were away?â
âYeah, I guess you could say that...âÂ
He welcomed your touch, grasping your smaller hand in one of his much larger ones as you cupped his cheek. He gave you a small smile before leaning into your hand, and no other words were spoken as the two of you sat together in silence for a moment, Izuku trying to calm his ragged breathing while you stared up at him in concern. Finally, he seemed to find his resolve as he sighed heavily and sniffed, eyes fluttering open just to focus solely on you. Izuku shifted so that he was lying back down, one arm draped over your side as you faced him, both of your bodies comfortably resting against one another while you held his gaze.
âHey, babe?â
âYeah?â
âIâm going to ask you a question, and I want you to answer as honestly as you can, okay?â
Immediately your heart thundered to life in your chest. You tried to reassure yourself that you were just overthinking things, that there was no logical way he could know about what youâd done while he was away. Was there...?
âOkay.â You hoped your voice didnât seem as shaky as you felt.Â
âAre you bottling things up again?â He was so gentle. The tone in which he asked you had been soft, his eyes glossy, his touch tender as he ran a careful hand over your shoulder and down your back to rub small circles against it.
âWhat do you mean?âÂ
Maybe if you acted ignorant, he wouldnât try to press you any further. But then, this was Izuku, wasnât it? Who weâre you trying to kid?
âYou didnât seem like yourself when I called you last night. And your friend said you seemed a little off the other day during your visit. Iâm just worried about you. Is there anything you want to talk about?â
Sure, there were lots of things you wanted to say, but you didnât have the courage to say any of them out loud. So instead of confiding in Izuku, you chose to pull away emotionally. Luckily for you, however, this did not manage to go unnoticed by your boyfriend.
âNo...Iâm fine. Promise.â
âOh, honey...â The amount of care and concern he held for you in his words made you feel vulnerable. Izuku pulled you into the tightest hug youâd ever felt in your life, his strong arms wrapping around you in a comforting way while he continued. âYou donât have to pretend that everything is okay. I know itâs not.â
Shameful tears dripped sorely from your cheeks as his words started to sink in. After so long of keeping all your feelings to yourself, they finally spilled over and flowed out of you in the form of teardrops that soaked the pillow underneath you. Your walls crumbled and caved, and you clung to Izuku for dear life as you let everything out in the safety of his hold.Â
âIâm sorry!â you whispered harshly against his chest. âIâm sorry, Iâm sorry-!â For what, you werenât sure- you just felt the need to apologize. Maybe for relapsing, maybe for crying- or maybe for both.
Izuku hushed you and let you soak his dirtied shirt for as long as you needed. When your sniffles had become less frequent and your hiccups much quieter, he brought his hands to your face, cupping it gently and looking you in the eyes. âY/N. I love you, and nothing you do or say could change that. Alright?â You nodded in understanding. âI know youâre not okay. I donât think you realized, but when I went into the bathroom, you...â He struggled to finish his sentence, tears welling up in his eyes again. âYou left it out.â
Shit.
Fuzzy memories from earlier played back in your mind as you realized youâd forgotten to put something away that Izuku wasnât supposed to see. Youâd been too busy cleaning the bathroom to remember that you left it sitting on the ledge of the medicine cabinet, right next to the bandages and antiseptic. No wonder heâd stopped brushing his teeth so fast; he must have seen it and put two and two together fairly quickly after that. So then...he knew after all.
âIâm sorry!â
You wanted to say so much more than that. You wanted to tell him you were afraid- afraid that he would leave you, that he would hate you, that he would judge you even though you knew he was the most loving and caring person you could ever ask for. You wanted to tell him you regretted it, that you hated yourself for it, that you wished you could take it back. Of all the things to leave your mouth, those words seemed stuck on repeat. But luckily for you, Izuku always seemed to know how to read you and your words.Â
Izuku let go of your face before wrapping you in his arms once more, your head tucked under his chin. âLove, itâs okay. Everythingâs alright. Iâm not angry, though I am upset that youâre hurting.â
âIt was stupid, and Iâm sorry, and I wish I never-â
Izuku cut you off. âOh, Y/N, no. Itâs not stupid. Youâre in pain, itâs your way of trying to cope. Itâs not healthy, and itâs not good, but itâs how youâre trying to survive. And thatâs not stupid, Y/N, itâs human. And to be human is to make mistakes.â He gave you a moment to process before carrying on. âSlip ups happen. It doesnât mean youâre a bad person, or that your progress is all gone, or even that youâre weak. Itâs a normal thing. Recovery isnât linear.â
âWhat does that mean?â you asked between sobs.
âIt means itâs not a straight line, baby. You canât just quit something cold turkey like that and expect things to go so smooth. Itâs great if it does, but...the reality of it is that everyone is different, and while youâve made a lot of progress already, there will always be ups and downs. And just because you had a relapse doesnât mean that everything youâve done before this doesnât matter anymore. It just means things arenât so good right now. But we can make them better, together. Okay?â
âOkay...â you mumbled.
âI love you. Iâm proud of you for getting this far. We can make it through this, and Iâll be here every step of the way. Iâll do my part and start checking in with you more often, okay?â
You pressed your face into the dry spot of his shirt and clutched at it with both hands. Izuku was your rock, and he wasnât going anywhere. He was willing to go through this with you and help support you, and that meant the world to you in a place where you felt alone and not worth the time of day.
âI-Izuku?â you hiccuped.
âIâm here,â came his calm reply.
âDonât leave me, please...â
âOh, Y/N, I would never. Iâm not going anywhere, I promise. Iâm here.âÂ
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