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pandora-writes-one-piece · 1 month ago

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Mine to Protect Part III

@thetrueghostqueen Thank you so much for your wonderful request for the birthday prompts! I truly hope you enjoyed the story! Even though it turned out pretty big 😅

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Mine to Protect

Word Count: 4408

Tags for the whole story: Highlander!Kid; Fem!Reader; Alternate Universe - Scotland 13th century; Gore; Blood; Violence; Death; Mild Angst; Fluff; Nudity; Cursing; Sexual Tension; Explicit Sexual Content; Protective!Kid; Possessive!Kid; Soft!Kid; Feral!Kid; Jealous!Kid; Happy Ending; Sort of Enemies to Lovers; Teasing; Banter; NSFW; MDNI; Mature Audiences;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: Your father and his allied clans are at war, and you're a liability. When you're assigned a guard to protect you - against your will - you do everything in your power to infuriate him. The problem is that he can be more infuriating than you, as you're about to find out.

Notes: Final part everyone. I hope you enjoyed this! It really wasn't supposed to be so big... but then there were so many little moments I wanted to include... Thank you for reading!

Part 3 of 3

You avoid the wedding conversation with your father like the plague, but you chase Kid’s company like a hunter tracking deer through the glens. More than once, he tumbles into your sheets –sometimes you don’t even make it that far. He has you against doors, walls, on the ground, under the shade of trees, anywhere –everywhere!

You now know the shape and contour of all his scars and muscles. The way they ripple as he uses them to handle your body effortlessly, the way they tense when he’s lost at the edge, spilling his release into you, or the way they soften as you search for the warmth of his embrace afterwards.

He’s told you about many of the scars. He’s even told you how his left arm was rendered almost useless during battle. He has opened up to you, and you to him, sharing all your worries over your people, sharing how you’ve lost your brother to brigands when you were young and vowed not to be a helpless noble girl –he assures you, you’re not.

Things happen easily between you and Kid, even though you still disagree on many things and keep fighting like cats and dogs. Most of those fights end the same, with both of you lost in a mess of tangled limbs.

You’ve fallen.

So hard it hurts. And it’s scary as hell in more ways than one. Not only do you not know if Kid feels the same for you, but you also don’t want your heart and emotions to be so tied to a single person. Because, at this moment, it feels like you might die if something happens to Kid.

You can’t hold back that conversation anymore, so it takes a particularly cold night –a bit warmer now that you and Kid have exercised– when you’re lost in his embrace, to peel the words from your lips.

Kid’s arm grips you, his hand securing you tightly by the waist, and you absentmindedly realise that he never holds you differently. It’s always with strength, a fierce claim, or a desperate need to protect. Your fingers trace the scar on his chest, as you usually do, and that always brings a soft smile to his lips as he relaxes his breathing.

After a while, he speaks. “Yer awfully quiet today. Ye must tell me what I did tae get ye tae shut up.” He chuckles. “I might need that information for other nights.”

But you don’t reply. Not with a chuckle, nor with a witty response as he was expecting you to.

“Lass?” He opens his eyes and lifts your chin with his fingers to inspect your face, and you sigh.

“What are we, Kid?” The fear of his answer grips your heart in its clutches holding it ransom.

“What do ye mean?”

Sitting up and crossing your legs on the bed, you lock your gaze with his. “This, us. What are we?” You gesture between your bodies, impatience oozing from your pores.

Kid sits up as well, running a hand through his fiery, slightly damp hair. “Lass… we… we’re us.” He shrugs, and you sigh again. Talking about feelings with Kid is like pulling a sword from solid rock. Clearly, he senses that you’re upset, because he tries again. “I care for ye.”

“I know that.”

“Good. So, that’s it.” He reaches for you, but you swat his hand away.

“Is that all? You care?”

“We have fun, aye, lass?” He smirks at you, trying to lighten the mood, but he’s not even inching closer to where you want him to be.

“Aye. Fun. You care, and we have fun. That’s all there is, right?”

Kid tenses, and the ticking in his jaw alerts you that he’s finally taking this seriously. “There cannae be anythin’ else, can there? Yer a noble lady, I’m a hired sword.”

You nod. In your head, you know that, technically there can’t be anything more, but in your heart, there are infinite possibilities. What you wanted to hear from him is that he more than cares, that he is willing to fight for both of you. You want to hear him say that he’s fallen for you too. You don’t expect him to be romantic, he was right all those nights ago, you don’t need to be sweet-talked. But you want something real.

“Is that what ye wanted to hear? That we’re nae good tae each other? That we cannae work?” He slams a fist on the bed, and you know he’s not angry at you, really, it’s at the situation.

“No, Kid. What I wanted to hear was a bit of fight in you.” You get up, pull your dress over your head, and your feet through your boots. “Because you fight so hard to protect me from outside threats, when the biggest threat to my heart is right here in my room.”

The hurt in his expression is a mirror of your own as you make your way to the door. But it’s not over yet. There’s something else you need to tell him and this was why you asked him what you were. To see if you and he were worth fighting for.

Your hand hovers the doorknob and you don’t look back at him as you deliver the news. “My father has chosen a suitor to marry me. I have no say in the matter. We are to be married within a month.”

As tears fill your eyes, you leave the room without looking back, not knowing what Kid feels about the news or if he’s as devastated as you are.

-*-

You will never know how he felt about the news you delivered, because by morning, he’s gone. Just gone, without a trace, without a goodbye, without a word. Why does your chest ache so much when he took your heart with him?

Your father merely assigns another guard to you, but since you’ll be married within a month –securing a formidable war alliance that comes with soldiers and money– and leaving his house, he simply assigns one of his personal guards to shadow you.

This guard is quiet, slow, and an idiot. You lose him on the first try.

Though you don’t wander too far alone. The streets are growing more dangerous, and this guard isn’t Kid. You don’t trust him to find you anywhere and everywhere, as if you were connected by more than duty.

You refuse to cry.

You know you have many, many tears to shed, but you gave yourself one night to do it. The night he left you, and that was it. No more tears, no more broken heart. And though it all seems easier said than done, you manage slightly.

You set up a food delivery system with some of the citizens on the keep’s grounds, so you can be safer and still help them, and this has kept your mind and hands occupied. But the end of the month approaches, and so does your wedding.

You can’t stop thinking about Kid and how he makes you feel and it’s nearly impossible to think of giving yourself to another man. Be it body or soul. You’re Kid’s. And that’s it.

Days without him seem colder and drag on slower than before. Training doesn't feel the same, and every time you lie in bed you still feel the ghost of his arms wrapped around you. You've found yourself glancing over your shoulder more than once, hoping he's there, just around the corner, with his scowl in place, a witty remark at hand, or a biting word.

But he's not.

And so, you tread on, day by day, night by night, forcing your heart to harden, to stop caring, to just let him go.

Until you feel him. It's that prickling sensation at the nape of your neck, the tingling that bristles your hairs and almost stops your heart. This time, when you glance over your shoulder, he's really there, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to run to him and jump into his arms.

Gods, you've missed him.

He looks… haggard. His hair is duller, matted and dirty, there's dried blood on his skin and clothes –you're too scared to ask him if it's his, so you don’t– and there's darkness in his eyes, so much darkness.

“Kid…” You barely utter, your heart too shattered to let your mouth part with any more words, lest he take them as ransom and use them against you.

“Forgive me, lass. I've been gone longer than I meant, aye?” His voice seems drained. He looks exhausted, and you want nothing more than to scream at him for leaving you without a single word, for making you suffer beyond human understanding. But none of what you feel matters when he looks ready to drop dead from exhaustion at any second. So you drag him into your quarters and draw him a warm bath without uttering another word.

He sits in the tub as you pour warm water over him, loosening the grime and blood so he can scrub it off. You don't speak. You're too afraid that the first words out of your mouth will be angry and accusing, and now’s not the time to fight. For what it's worth, he doesn't speak either. Whether he's respecting your silence or simply too tired, is anyone's guess.

When the water rises enough for a comfortable bath, you wet the cloth and hand it to Kid, but he doesn't make a move to take it. His eyes are droopy, and his head lolls back and forth until he finally leans it against the rim of the tub with a groan and a grunt.

You sigh as your heart clenches, and you kneel beside him, running the wet cloth over his arms first, scrubbing off the caked mud, blood, and whatever else he dragged on him from wherever he was. When you reach his hand, his fingers curl slightly, seeking your touch, trying to hold you and you give everything to stop your tears from falling.

Gods, how you love this man.

He slumbers for a bit as you clean most of the grime off, but when you reach his chest and your hands find the familiar scars, his eyes slowly open, watching you. You're frowning pretending not to notice him observing you, but you grumble something unintelligible when you find three new scars –badly healed– on his torso.

“Where did you go…?” The question slips from your lips against your will in a quiet whisper. You're not even sure if he heard you or if he'll answer.

“Behind enemy lines, tae the north.”

The cloth slips from your hand, and you fumble to secure it again, your mouth open as wide as your eyes. “Beyond the borders? Into enemy territory? Kid! You could’ve died!”

His smirk barely curves his lips, but it's there. “Would've been worth it.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You growl, scrubbing harder and making him wince.

“Ah, I've missed that filthy tongue, lass.” How can your heart warm at such words when you want nothing more than to yell at him for having left you? “I got what I went in for.” He dips his head back into the water, using his hands to try and comb through his matted hair. When he rises out of the water, his exhausted gaze falls on you, waiting for your questions.

“What did you go in for?”

“Information. War information that’ll make the clans turn tae yer da’s side without ye havin’ tae marry.” A chill runs through you as you stare at him. Is he serious? Has he risked his life just to get you out of an arranged marriage? Does that mean… does he love you back? Are you more than just ‘fun’?

You swallow the lump in your throat and try to make your tongue work past the dry, sand-like feeling in your mouth. “You still left me behind, without a word or a goodbye. Without a warning. I was alone!” The sigh that parts your lips is filled with sorrow and resignation. “We'll speak about this after you rest, you're in no condition to argue.”

He chuckles as you force him to lean forward –with a harder shove than you should– so you can clean his back. “Oh, but I've missed arguin’ with ye.” You purse your lips, drawing back an angry snarl that only makes him chuckle again. “Think about it. Would ye’ve let me leave if I told ya my plan?” He shrugs nonchalantly. “I mean, I would've left just the same, but ye would've tried tae stop me. Or worse, ye would've wanted tae go with me. It was better this way.”

“Better for whom? Because I was left thinking you'd abandoned me, right after I poured my heart out to you!”

Kid's face falls again. “Better than tae worry about me. If I died, at least ye could've forgotten me if ye hated me. It would've been a lot harder tae forget me if ye still cared.”

I still care.

You think the words, but you don't say them. Instead, you hand him the cloth. “Finish up, Kid. I'll go grab you some clothes from your old room. It hasn't been touched.”

-*-

When you return he's clean and dry, a towel wrapped around his waist, and you lower your gaze before you get lost in the body you know so well. Handing him the shirt and breeches, you return to your room, waiting for him with a tray of food and ale, so he eats and rests, because he looks like shit.

He follows you wordlessly after getting dressed and eats the food ravenously, which makes you wonder how long it’s been since he last ate. By the time he finishes, he looks ready to fall down again. You lead him to your bed, setting him down in the place he's slept more times than you can count, and securing the blankets around him. As Kid closes his eyes, you sigh, turning to leave, but his arm loops around your waist, and he drags you to bed, your back firmly against his chest, as he pulls you closer and drapes the covers over you too.

“Kid…” You start to protest. He needs rest and you don't trust your heart enough to be this close to him and not break. He still hasn't told you how he truly feels. He said he missed your remarks and arguing with you, but he didn't say he missed you.

“Stay.” His voice sounds hoarse and pained as he pulls you impossibly closer, burying his head in your hair, inhaling your scent in deep breaths.

You relax in his hold. It's not like you want to leave anyway. You've never felt safer than in Kid's arms, you're just not sure if you feel loved.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, lass.” The whisper of his words kisses the back of your neck in warm breaths, and your heart clenches. “I'm shite with words and feelings, ye know that… but… dinnae think for a minute that I left because I dinnae care. I left because I do care.”

He's still not saying it.

“I know you care, Kid.” You sound weary and resigned. Perhaps you're asking too much. It's obvious he cares deeply, or he would've never gone to the lengths he did for you.

“It's more than that.” You can almost hear the strain in his voice as he forces the words out. “I knew I could never fall for ye. I'm a guard, yer a noble lady. How could I… love ye if I'm no’ worthy? Yer da would hang me for ever touchin’ ye…” His chuckle is just a rumble against your back. “If he knew how much I've touched ye, my head would roll.”

You hold back a smirk. All your life you've defied your father and his rules. Kid would never be the exception.

“But I've come tae realise that I cannae live without ye, nor do I want tae.” He sighs and rolls you, motioning for you to turn to him, so you do. Your cheeks are hot and flushed and your heart is hammering violently against your chest. His fiery eyes are droopy and tired, filled with so much exhaustion that is physically noticeable. But he needs to get his words out. His fingers tilt your chin so he can stare right into your eyes. “I've realised that if lovin’ ye is a risk, then I'm ready tae bet everythin’. And that's why I had tae go. Because I love ye.”

A ragged sob breaks through your defences and tears down the dam you've built to hold your tears in since Kid’s return. Tears spill from your eyes in fat droplets as Kid pulls you to his chest, his hand resting on the back of your head, comforting you, cradling you. He doesn't say anything else, but he doesn't need to.

He's said it all.

You spill all the tears you vowed not to cry when he left, all the pent-up emotions that you’d stored safely away in a dark corner of your heart come crashing down with the force of a tidal wave, destroying everything in their path. And Kid holds you through it all. Your lifeline, your anchor, your everything.

He doesn't utter any more words, and he's right, you know he's shit with feelings. But his actions have always spoken much louder than words. He holds you tightly, clearly fending off all the exhaustion in his weary bones just to comfort you. His lips press softly against the crown of your head, again and again, in an endless torrent of kisses, like he can't get enough of you. His hand rubs your back up and down in soothing motions as your heart explodes from all this love. It's overwhelming, overpowering and somehow, still not enough.

Eventually, you pull back from him, tilting your head upwards and watching him through wet lashes. “Gods, Kid. I love you too. So much. So, so much.” The warmth in his gaze overpowers the tiredness as he lowers his face, mouth hovering just above yours. “Yer mine.” His words are a claim and he delivers them softly, like a man who is sure of what he's saying.

“I'm yours.”

With the softest of grunts you've ever heard him release, Kid takes your lips in his. You melt into him, this kiss insurmountably different from all the others you've shared. It's soft, steady, and tender. It's not filled with brimming, raging fire or fueled by desire. It's intimate and filled with promises. It's perfect.

When you both pull back, he cups your cheek and rests his forehead against yours, eyes hooded as exhaustion finally overtakes him. “Stay with me.”

“Aye, Kid.” You don't really know if he asked you to stay the night or to stay forever, but it doesn't really matter when the answer to the question is the same, right?

-*-

As dawn approaches, you leave Kid to rest in your bed as you get changed and ready. Then you gather the papers Kid brought with him, the valuable information about the war front and you grimace. The papers are bloodied and dirty, a testament to what he's been through, but they are readable. In fact, it serves the purpose best like this, so your father can understand what he's endured.

You march into your father's quarters, and his guards have the gall to try to stop you from entering. “Either of you touch me, and you'll meet my wrath.” Your fiery reputation is well known in the keep and after exchanging glances, the guards step aside. With a deep breath, you burst into the war room where your father and his advisors are already gathered, though they seem to be discussing how juicy a piece of boar meat is, instead of actual war business. They startle at the noise of the door banging, and you stride towards your father with pursed lips and purposeful steps, daring anyone to stop you.

Nobody does.

“Here.” You shove the plate of meat aside –almost dropping it on the floor– and slam the papers in front of your father with a loud bang. “You'll be interested in these, Father.” You watch as he cleans his greasy fingers on his cloak and picks up the parchment, curiosity lighting his eyes.

You have to suppress a grin when his eyes widen and his mouth opens in surprise. “This… how? This information can change the war… it can bring us the support we need. This is vital.”

The advisors look at your father, then at you, also filled with curiosity. “Aye, Father. That information can sway the clans to your side and bring you the numbers you need to finish this. All without me having to marry.”

A triumphant smirk curls the corner of your lips as all the men gathered around the table begin talking with one another, discussing outcomes and probabilities, finally forgetting the food and actually delving into war business. Your father passes the bundle of papers to the advisor on his right and pins you with his stare.

“How did you get these?”

“Remember Eustass Kid?” You can’t help the way your voice softens at the mere mention of him.

“Aye, the sword I hired to protect you. The guard at the entrance reported that he returned yesterday. Was it him?” He seems incredulous.

“Aye. He risked his neck for that.”

Your father scratches his chin, the weight of what Kid did hanging heavily on his shoulders. You’re pretty sure he’s already considering how much gold he can be parted with to compensate him. But you’re about to help him solve that problem.

“I will not marry the laird.” You state. You don’t ask, you simply inform your father of your decision because you know he cannot deny you that, not when he doesn’t need a marriage alliance anymore.

“Fine. I barely know how I convinced you the first time. You’re free, lass, to do whatever you want.”

Your heart hammers against your chest, but you don’t let your nerves show. Not now, when you’re so close. “But I want to marry, Father. Just not him.”

A heavy sigh escapes his lips as he returns his gaze to a paper that wandered back into his hand, looking as though he has more important matters to discuss than your marriage. And he does, and this reminds you of all the headaches you’ve brought upon him, all the troubles you’ve stirred up while growing up. You know you were not an easy daughter, but you know your father loves you, in his own way.

“Who, then?”

“Kid.”

He lifts his eyes from the parchment in front of him to stare you down again. “The hired sword? Not a laird?”

You nod. Your throat suddenly feels too tight to squeeze any words through.

“Impossible. You’re noble, and he’s… not. I was willing to grant you a marriage of your choosing, but I thought you wanted someone of your standing.”

You knew this was coming, so you take a deep, calming breath. “What I want, Father, is someone who fights for me, someone who is willing to go behind enemy lines and risk his neck for me. Someone who loves me so much, that he’d burn down the world for me, if only I asked. He has proven his dedication to me –and to you– a hundred times over.”

“He’s just a mercenary” Your father’s voice rises, and the room stills. “You need a leader by your side! Someone who knows the people and how to lead, not just fight!”

You place your hands on your hips to hide the trembling in them. “I know the people well enough for the both of us. I love the people more than anyone in this room.” Your voice starts to rise with each word. “Gods, I’ve done more for the people and the land than any of you combined! For once, just for once, Father, let someone love me! I deserve to be happy, too!”

Your father stays silent for a moment, his throat bobbing up and down as his thick brows furrow in deep thought. His eyes scan the information laid before him again, as if weighing everything he has and what he’s willing to lose.

“Very well. You can marry him, if that’s what you truly want.”

-*-

You barely make it past the hallway outside the war room before you feel a familiar prickling sensation on the back of your neck. Kid’s waiting for you. He looks better, more like himself, but there’s still weariness in his eyes and a sort of darkness in them that can only come from claiming someone else’s life –and gods know he’s done enough of that for a lifetime.

“Lass, I knew ye’d be with yer da.” His gaze softens, however, when you meet. “Did he call the weddin’ off?” The hope in his voice mirrors the one that fills your heart.

“I’m still marrying.”

“The fuck ye are! He lays one finger in yer direction, and he’s dead. I’ll fuckin’ kill him and his entire clan if I have tae! Fuck! I’ll just grab ye and we’ll run. I dinnae care where–”

“Kid!” You take one step towards him, tears threatening to spill from your eyes at the intensity of his feelings. Placing your palms on his heaving chest, you look into his eyes with nothing but love. “You would really burn down the whole world for me, wouldn’t you?”

His hand brushes your cheek gently, a contrast to the beast of a man he is. “Just say the words, lass. I’ll do it.”

“I’m marrying you, you insufferable man. There’s only you.”

He lets out a string of curses in his thick brogue, and you barely understand a word, though you know they’re all directed at you. “Ye wanna kill me. I already knew ye wanted me dead, lass!” Then he weaves his fingers through your hair and pulls you closer, lowering his face until his lips hover over yours. “Damn brat.”

“I love you, Kid.”

“Aye. Me too. Ye’re mine, always.”

“And you’re mine.”

The smile on his lips mirrors your own as they touch again in that soft, gentle dance you’ve come to know as love.

THE END

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bucked-it-up · 1 month ago

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Idk if this will ever be finished because uni and life got overwhelming but I thought why not post this so some people can see it and read it rather than sit in my drafts. Anyways it's a bucktommy au only really the start. Word count - 2417

Buck was fed up with going to physiotherapy; he knew he needed to go for his leg and get back to firefighting, but it was so draining, and every session just reminded him of how far he must go. Having to do the exercises and struggling just added more to the pain and heartbreak of not being able to go back to firefighting, the one thing he felt was important. The 118 tried to help him but they just felt like comforting platitudes. Always saying take your time, you will be back sooner than you know. He just wanted to be back out there, doing the rescues, and helping people, he didn’t want to feel stuck. He kept going, kept pretending he cared about more than the job, that he wasn’t struggling to get up knowing he wasn’t truly closer to getting back to work.

The appointment that day wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t great either, they had been going through some of the standard exercises to get strength back. They were exercises he could’ve done in his sleep before the truck but now his muscles shook, locked into tense positions, making it hard to walk. The physiotherapist, Emma, always would say it's normal and it will improve, and he just wanted to shout at her sometimes. When will it improve? When? Every time he feels the same, no improvement. He needed something to feel like a win.

As he walked out of the appointment room, slightly limping, keeping weight on his left, he bumped into something. He fell back slightly, catching himself with his bad leg, letting out a hiss of pain and stumbling. A hand grabs his arm steadying him.

“Hey,” a soft voice appears, “You good?”

“Yeah, uh,” Buck looks up to see concerned eyes and dark hair. “I wasn’t expecting to bump into someone. Caught myself on my bad leg.”

“It’s my fault I wasn’t looking where I was going.” The hand lets go of its hold on his arm and Buck can feel himself steady, but pain still races up his leg a not-so-subtle reminder that he needs to be more careful. “I’m Tommy, here for my shoulder, you?”

“Evan, my leg if it wasn’t obvious.” Buck wasn’t sure why he said Evan not Buck, but it felt easier, Buck had the expectations of a firefighter, of someone fit and healthy, something who could stumble and put weight on his leg. Evan had no expectations apart from being someone who fucked up.

“I have to go in for my appointment, Evan,” Tommy saying Evan felt nice, Buck wasn’t sure why. “But maybe I will see you next week? If you have an appointment?”

“I do,” Buck chuckled a bit at arranging to meet at another physio appointment but why not, Tommy seems nice. “I guess I will see you then.”

And that was the start of their weekly physio meet-ups.

Every week, when Tommy’s appointments lined up with Buck's, was a light in each dark week. He did feel like he was closer to getting somewhere now with his leg, but it was still a struggle. Talking to Tommy after each appointment helped, he had learnt so much about Tommy. He now knew that Tommy was a firefighter pilot at the Harbor Station and had also been at the 118 before he had transferred which meant that Buck had gotten to learn what it was like before he joined the station. Buck had gotten to laugh at stories such as Maurice and the knives.

(“What do you mean you had to get a chicken with knives attached to its legs?”

“It was a part of a cock fighting ring!”

“Sure…”

“The best part was Bobby giving the chicken to Athena.”

‘Wait! What do you mean he did that! Tell me more!”)

Buck learns about Tommy’s time in the army, and how he joined to escape his dad. He joined as early as he could and ended up being discharged after he was shot in the shoulder. Buck learns how he decided to join firefighting.

(“After being discharged I had no purpose, like I was floating with no anchor. After so long of being in regimented routines where every part of my day was decided for me, I just didn’t know what to do. Then I saw an emergency happen in front of me, nothing serious, someone had fallen and broken their leg and needed an ambulance, I saw how the team worked together, and it reminded me of my time in the army. How there you had a group of people who always had your back. That’s why I signed up, I wanted to help people and have people around me to fall back on.”

“But then you had Gerrard.”

“But I had Gerrard.”)

After Tommy opens up about Gerrard, Buck slowly learns more bits and pieces about Tommy’s life. He learns how Gerrard was almost a perfect reflection of Tommy's father and how it affected him in terms of coming to accept himself. Buck learns about how Tommy felt after starting therapy when he joined the 217, wanting to learn how to be a better person and come to terms with what had happened in the past.

(“It took a lot of work to come to terms with myself and realise that I couldn’t keep letting my dad hang over my head. I needed to accept myself and with comfortable with me. Hen was actually the first person I told I was gay. She was a big reason why I had come to terms with wanting to be proud of who I am and who I love. So, I wanted her to be the first to know.”

“How did she react?”

“Oh, she invited me over for dinner with Karen, it was one of the first times I had been able to talk about being gay and what it meant for me. I don’t talk to Hen as often anymore, but we always tell each other happy pride. I miss her.”)

Tommy in turn learns about Evan’s travels before he became a firefighter, and learns about Maddie who only recently came back in his life. Tommy sits there and listens while Evan talks about growing up in a home where only his sister was a parent to him and how he felt abandoned when Maddie stayed with Doug but also how having Maddie’s jeep set him free from the expectations of his parents.

(“So, a cowboy, you were a cowboy.”

“I don’t know if I would say cowboy…”

“Come one, Evan, I know you want to call yourself a cowboy.”

“Okay, maybe I was a cowboy.”)

Tommy also learns about when Evan was fired, and how he was using sex as a coping mechanism and took the fire truck to have sex with someone. He learns that Evan cares so much about the job, how much he needs to be able to go back to work and how much pain Evan is hiding.

(“The day I got fired was a difficult day, but it was also a good day. I learnt how much firefighting means to me and I got to prove myself to both Athena and Bobby. Since then, my love for the job has grown with each rescue no matter how small or big. I just want to get back to it, Tommy, it almost hurts being away from it and not knowing when I will be back. I just want to get better.”

“You will, Evan. I know you will.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I see you, I see your determination, your strength. You will get back there.”)

Tommy also learns about how Evan got the leg injury and the events leading up to it. He remembers hearing about the bombs being placed around the city, targeting people. He remembers the horror of seeing the news report of a firefighter being trapped under an engine and the bomber refusing to let anyone near him. He remembers watching with bated breath, hoping to see the figure be set free, he almost cried with relief when he saw the truck being lifted. He couldn’t imagine being the person going through it. He felt like he understood Evan even more after hearing about it.

(“It was terrifying, I was stuck, and I was sure I was going to lose my leg. The kid just wouldn’t do anything, I mean I get he was scared and hurt but I just wanted to be out of pain.”

“God, Evan, I can’t imagine.”

“I thought I would be free of the pain when they started to lift the truck, but it just got worse, and now I’m likely to never stop feeling pain in my leg. Sometimes it feels like I’m still under there, with no help coming.”

“Evan, I will always help, please call me, text me anytime and I will get to you as soon as possible. I will make sure that help is always coming.”)

As suddenly as the meetings started, they stopped. Tommy’s shoulder no longer needed to be watched over by the physio and it was just at-home exercises he needed to do. Buck didn’t realise quite how lonely the appointments would be after that even though he knew his end was in sight as well. Though he didn’t see Tommy at the appointments, they did finally remember to share their numbers and since then, Buck didn’t think they had gone more than a day without texting.

(Tommy: Only a couple more PT sessions left, then its recertify training?

Buck: Yep! So happy I can finally start training again soon. The academy won’t know what hit them!

Tommy: Let me know when you start and you can come round and train in my home gym)

Sometimes it was serious texts, long messages about something that was bothering them, often about their injuries that they both knew they would be dealing with for the rest of their lives. Having someone able to understand helped Buck be able to slowly come to terms with the pain in his leg, he was able to look past it more and accept that some things in his life would have to adjust. Other times the messages sent were much less serious.

(Buck: did you know there is only one seal species that only live in freshwater?

Tommy: No, but go on

Buck: Yes!! The Baikal Seal in Russia, its found in the baikal lake which is also the deepest lake in the world!)

Buck learnt more about the day to life of a firefighter pilot, what kind of work they do what kind of calls Tommy takes. He learns that Tommy does a lot of air transport often from the harder hiking routes in LA where inexperienced hikers think they can handle. He also learns about some of the weird calls that he’s done while being with Harbor.

(Tommy: so one time we went out to a call middle of nowhere to transport a medical call and when we get there we find this couple who had obviously come out for a date when some how one of them got tangled up and tripped over the picnic blanket breaking their leg and then the other decides you know what it’s the perfect time to propose right as we are about to put their partner in the helicopter

Buck: did they say yes?!?!?!?!?

Tommy: is that the only thing you took away from that story…

Buck: you can’t leave me hanging what was the answer!!!!!

Tommy: …. They said yes

Buck: !!!!!)

As time went on Tommy did wonder if Evan was pushing himself too far to recertify as soon as he could. Tommy worried that he could cause an injury down the line and did try and get Evan to slow down whenever he came round to train in his gym. He would force longer rests and lighter weights, citing that it would help him when he went hard on his own. Tommy would also try and convince him to slow down whenever Evan told him he was going to the gym or training; it didn’t always go well but at least he tried. Tommy also almost wanted to suggest therapy for Evan because he knew there was more driving these decisions than just Evan wanting to be back on the job. It was almost like Evan felt it was the only thing going for him.

(Tommy: Evan, maybe, you can take a day off from training?

Evan: I need to do this, Tommy, I need to get back to it

Tommy: It will still be there no matter how long you take, im sure other people have told you this)

Evan was having a bad day, he wasn’t replying the same and was constantly dodging Tommy’s suggestions of coming around, and having a movie day, something Evan had always been open to previously. Evan had been having a hard time when coming to training towards recertification, Tommy had been hearing it for the last week or so, Evan just wasn’t where he wanted to be. Tommy knew that Evan would make it back to the 118 and get through the recertification process he just needed to give himself time. A glance to his side where Willow was laying gave Tommy an idea to get Evan to maybe cheer up.

(Tommy: [Cat picture]

Tommy: [Cat picture]

Evan: cat? When did you get a cat?

Evan: also CAT

Tommy: I got her shortly after you last came over, one of the other firefighters in Habor found her but couldn’t keep her. I could so took her in

Tommy: [Cat picture]

Evan: Im coming over to meet her, now, be prepared)

Tommy was beginning to plan his and Evans's celebratory meal for the day after Evans's celebratory BBQ with the 118. Evan had tried to get him to come to the BBQ, but Tommy wasn’t ready to see the 118 in person even if Evan had said they wanted to meet him, well not him, the Tommy that Evan had told them about. Eventually, he will see them again just not right now.

(Evan: are you sure you don’t wanna come to Bobby’s and Athena’s?

Tommy: yes, im looking forward to seeing you the day after. I’m not good at large gatherings anyway

Evan: if you are sure, we could do both

Tommy: im sure, you enjoy yourself, don’t worry about me)

#bucktommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard #911 abc #winnie rambles #winnie s3 au #feel like this is somwhow a mistake so if it gets deleted you saw jothing #nothing

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earanemith · 9 months ago

Text

Promises Made

Chapter 7: It's not natural

Read on A03

word count: 3,140

"Home"

That was Ziva's goal. She did not mean Israel, she did not mean the house she had grown up in. Liat suspected she did not even really mean America. No, home for Ziva had never been a place or a building. Home for Ziva meant people, family. She had not had a true home since her sister had died. Had lost the last shred of it when Ari died. Liat was sad that once better she would lose Ziva to the Americans. For that was what she meant when she said home, the people she worked with, about whom she told story after story to her friend. And if they had proven themselves enough to Ziva for her to call them home, even though it hurt Liat would support her.

"That is a very good goal" Rasha believed that there was more than simply to go home that Ziva meant. And while it was helpful for Rasha to know what Ziva meant by home to be able to support her and push her when needed that information could wait. She suspected that Ziva was not one to easily speak her mind, let alone anything about her feelings. Rasha was sure she would find out, just not yet. "I can work with that"

A ringtone was heard, Liat quickly left the room to pick up. Not thirty seconds later she was back again. "I am called in. I will see you later tonight" was what she told Ziva as a way of explaining before leaving.

Once Liat was gone Ziva, or more accurate Rasha went to work. Explaining every step she was taking every move she made.

Rolling Ziva's ankle, moving her legs up and down. Explaining it was all to prevent as much muscular dystrophy as they could. "It also helps with blood flow. Before you leave here you will be able to do this yourself. Is any of this uncomfortable?"

"No. I feel some pressure but not uncomfortable."

"Can you tell me where you feel the pressure?" She questioned Ziva.

"My stomach"

"That is excellent that means that your core muscles are engaged. Now let's move to your upper body. "

For a time Rasha worked on her arms. Having Ziva lift them to see the movement freedom she had right now. Occasionally stopping to make some noted. Then continuing the exercised. Having Ziva try and push as hard as she could with her arms to try and move Rasha's own. Working with soft balls to move from one hand to another. And more. They ended their session with Rasha moving to sit beside Ziva on the bed.

"Okay. I want to see how your body reacts to being upright again. I will put my arms around your shoulders and lean back. This will put you in a sitting position. It is very important to tell me if this hurts."

"Won't the frame be in the way?" Ziva asked. Having tried not to focus on it while Rasha was working on her legs.

"No, it gives you more movement freedom than you would think. The sitting up can put a lot of pressure on your spine however so we will start slowly"

She then continued with doing what she had told Ziva. It felt weird to be lifted like that. Almost as if she was a baby, not yet able to sit up by itself. She could feel that without Rasha's arms around her she would not be able to sit up by herself. Feeling wobbly. Just registering that when Rasha already put her down.

"How did that feel?"

"Strange. I cannot feel, it does not feel right" Ziva tried as a way of explaining what she felt.

"Normal I can assure you. Most of us are used to balancing with our lower body. Meaning your hips and legs. With not having feeling in your legs and no control of your hips and lower back your body is trying to make sense of it. You will find a new point of gravity but it might take some time. Ready to go again?"

Again and again Rasha sat Ziva up, until finally declaring they were done for the day. While Ziva wanted to keep going Rasha told her not to overdo it, while also commending Ziva's drive.

"I will see you tomorrow at twelve. Up or down?" She asked while holding the buttons that controlled Ziva's bed.

"Up please" Ziva liked being up, she could see the door, watch who entered. She felt more like her old self sitting up, even though it was more laying up instead of sitting.

"Alright but no more than half an hour. Your body is still adjusting"

Soon Miriam came in with another bowl of bone broth. With all her body's energy being spent during therapy Miriam helped her eat. When the bowl was empty Miriam noticed Ziva's eyes dropping. Softly she went to put the bowl back on the tray she had rolled in earlier. When she turned around she noticed Ziva had fallen asleep. She put the bed down, at a slight angle knowing that was what Ziva preferred, dimmed the lights and softly closed the door.

- -

When Liat had come back later that day it was already dark outside. The meeting having taken longer than she would have liked. Entering the room did not even wake Ziva up, that meant that she had a busy day and probably worked with Rasha until she was physically tired out. Glad she was and continued to sleep. That meant that Liat did not have to tell her yet. Tell her something she wished she did not have to tell her.

Her meeting had been les a meeting more a getting of new orders. Officer Hadar had explained every detail of the undercover mission to her. The way he was wording it Liat knew this would not be a short mission taking only a couple of days or even weeks. With this extensive of a cover it meant at least a month or two being away. Not liking it, for it meant having to leave Ziva when she could use her friend the most, but also knowing she could not refuse. Nothing short of quitting could prevent her having to go on the mission. She hoped Ziva would stay asleep, she did not want to tell her friend she had to leave in four days. Thinking how she could best break the news to Ziva was how she fell asleep.

- -

Sounds of agony of pain were what woke Liat the next day. There was Ziva almost writhing in pain, tears down her face fumbling for the button to call the nurses in to the room. Acting quick she picked it up and pressed it. After stroking Ziva's hair trying to calm her down. One look at Ziva was enough for any nurse to know she was in pain.

"Give her some medicine?! Can't you see she is in pain?" Liat said firmly to the nurse that had entered.

"I can't ma'm. She is already on the highest dose. I will get her doctor"

Ziva's outwardly sounds of pain quieted down, but the way she tried to keep moving and the crushing grip she seemed to have on Liat's hand showed she was still in a lot of pain.

Both doctor Raviv and Rasha entered. Tag teaming looking over Ziva. Asking her questions she whispered the answers to. When they were done they quickly spoke Liat not paying attention only to Ziva. As they addressed Ziva Liat did pay attention knowing Ziva might not follow everything right now.

"The pain you are feeling comes from your lower body Ziva" Liana Raviv explained.

"You told us she was paralyzed, does that not mean not having any feeling?"

"Yes, right now Ziva's brain is firing of signals all over that her nerves cant process. Since the nerves can't connect the signals to the right body parts and muscles the body interprets this as something being wrong and thus signals pain back to the brain."

"It is probably caused by the work we did yesterday Ziva. After weeks of no use finally moving your muscles again made your nerves aware that not everywhere was receiving the signals." Rasha added.

"You know what caused it, now can you help her?" Liat asked.

"Sorry Ziva but no. Your brain thinks your body hurts but nothing actually is wrong. There is no medicine to help with this type of nerve pain. Short of sedating you again, which I would rather not, there is nothing we can give you. But it is up to you. What do you want Ziva?"

"No sedation" Ziva gritted through her teeth "I can take it"

"Ziva please you are hurting" Liat tried.

"I can take it" Ziva said again. Closing any argument Liat wanted to make.

"If at any point that changes I put in the order that it is okay to give you the sedatives. It is up to you Ziva." Liana Raviv said before leaving the room.

"I am sorry Ziva. I think it best if I come back tomorrow. The nerve storm should have passed by then. Stay strong" And with that Rasha also left the room

Liat tried to take Ziva's mind of her pain by continuing the story where they left off. Knowing it was not enough with the slight whimpers Ziva gave now and then. She did not ask if Ziva changed her mind about the sedatives, for Ziva would not. Once she put her mind to something, like now with saying she could take it her mind would not be changed. Even if changing would make things easier.

- -

"You are leaving for tonight?" Miriam asked as she saw Liat close Ziva's hospital room. Finally having fallen into the deep sleep her body needed. The nerves finally settling down. "I wanted to ask you. Could you bring something for Ziva when you get back?"

"What things?"

"Mostly clothes, maybe some books or other things to entertain and occupy her mind. I know you have been coming here instead of going to work."

And soon she would be gone completely not that Liat told Miriam that at that point. "What types of clothes? I don't know with the external fixator?"

"I've written it down for you."

"Thank you Miriam, I will get it" it was the least Liat could do before leaving. Ziva would be more comfortable in actual clothes instead of the hospital gown she was wearing. Probably not being aware yet that her complete bottom half was uncovered. A catheter bag not counting.

- -

McGee had noticed that Tony seemed more absent that normally. He still did his job, if you counted hour he was there just as much as Gibbs. Tony still went out with the team for drinks after a case closed. And still he was not completely there, something was missing. On one of those nights that they went out for drinks was when it happened. Outside of the bar after saying goodbye to Palmer and Abby, Tony turned to him.

"It's not natural Tim"

"What is?" Where was Tony going? He had barely spoken a word while drinking.

"Ziva." Ah McGee thought, that made sense. "She would not just disappear like that."

"Maybe she is on a mission? Or maybe she wanted a clean break?" Bad answer, he thought to himself as Tony looked him in the eye. If a look could kill he'd be dead on the ground from the fire spouting out of Tony's eyes.

"She is not she would have told me. She promised me to stay in contact." Promised Tony to stay in contact? Now that was a new one. "Ziva would not break a promise. Not this promise. Not to me. Something is wrong"

Those words made McGee wonder exactly how close his team mates had been. The conviction Tony spoke with seemed to strong for partners. Also McGee knew Tony was right. Ziva might be an international spy and could lie as easily as breath. When Ziva made a promise she kept it. And if Ziva had promised to contact Tony and had not, McGee believed as Tony had. Something was going on.

"If we start to dig into Mossad we will need Abby's help. We'll start tomorrow" He told Tony. Who seemed to somewhat relax at not having to pressure McGee into helping him.

"Thank you." Tomorrow they would start to look. They would find her. There was no other option.

- -

Luckily true to the words of doctor Raviv. By the time the sun was rising again Ziva's brain had gotten the message. Though the doctor did warn Ziva that nerve storms like this sometimes continued to pop up every now and then. It was after eating and her session with Rasha that she saw first a big bag then Liat entered the room.

"Are you moving in?" Ziva joked at her.

"Ha, ha, very funny. No this is for you. Miriam asked me to bring you stuff"

"And you decided to rob a store? We both know I do not have any 'stuff' in Israel anymore"

"Just be grateful you won't be half naked anymore Ziva" knowing Ziva could handle her teasing. Even though her cheeks turned the slightest bit of red. So she had noticed she wasn't wearing anything underneath her gown. "There are clothes in here that Miriam recommended, some books, some.."

"You are leaving, yes?"

Liat stopped in her tracks, frazzled at Ziva's bluntness she had not heard since she got into the hospital. Knowing she could not lie to her Liat admitted the truth. And even though she was not allowed to share any details of her mission she did so with Ziva.

"It is okay. Do not worry" Here was Ziva, having a life altering accident and still making sure that Liat did not feel guilty. "I will be getting a lot of therapy, you would get bored here" letting Liat know she was truly okay with it. Of course she would miss Liat, not wanting to know how she would have gotten through the past week and a half without Liat by her side. Still she understood, when you got orders you followed them, there was not really a choice to not follow them.

"I have been thinking"

"Never a good sign" teased Liat, Ziva threw her a dirty look for that moment it felt like old times. Them being in Ziva's bedroom throwing Ari out when he came to bug them and teaming up against him.

"I am sorry if me sharing my goal with Rasha hurt you."

Right away Liat knew what she meant. Home, was Ziva's goal. Home did not mean with Liat. Home meant away from her to the other side of the world.

"No need. I understand. Somehow I think I was expected it. You spoke about them so much the stories you told, I get it. They are probably wondering what you are doing now"

"Thank you. And yes, that is exactly it. I realized how long it has been since I left, it is strange that none of them have contacted me."

"Do they know?" Confused, Liat did not think the hospital had contacted anyone in America, and Ziva surely had not contacted any of them. Not having access to a laptop or cell phone.

"I doubt Eli let NCIS know. But I promised Tony that I would stay in contact. He will know something is up" At the mention of Tony's name Liat thought back to the nights which Ziva spent muttering Tony's name in her dreams. If she promised him she'd stay in contact the idea he meant a lot more to Ziva than she was willing to admit was not such a strange one. "They mostly likely do not know anything. And I would like to call them, speak to them. Before you go can you get me a cellphone, maybe a laptop before you leave?"

- -

"Abs, we need your help"

"With what?" The goth already bouncy even though it was still morning. McGee and Tony having gone down to her lab in lieu of looking at the evidence and helping Abby as to not let Gibbs suspect anything. At that point both men thought it better if Gibbs did not know anything. He did not need to know his agents would be working overtime but not on the case. If Gibbs did not know they did not have to explain to Vance what they were using NCIS resources for. And if toothpick could be kept in the dark. That was the way Tony liked it best.

"Ziva" Was all Tony answered. Abby's bouncy mood changed to a serious one. She quickly pulled them both into her office close and locking the door. Then Tony continued, telling Abby the same thing he had told McGee yesterday.

"I agree. I have not heard a peep from her since she left! You see McGee!"

Wisely he did not react to that. Knowing that Abby had been itching to get any kind of information about Ziva for weeks now. In the next couple of minutes they made a plan.

Tony would go over all the news reports from Israel, try and even get police reports. To search for any indication something had happened. McGee would go over every possible digital foot print Ziva could have left. Starting from the day she left with her flight, onto tracing her location through her gps and phone records. And lastly Abby, who maybe had the toughest job of the trio. Trying to hack into Mossad's files and Ziva's service record. To see if she could find out if Ziva was part of any ongoing missions.

"We will meet once a week to discuss operation Ninja, or earlier if we find anything" Abby declared once the plan was in place.

Both McGee and Tony were on their way back upstairs when Tony flipped the switch of the elevator.

"You will need to get into my email."

"And why is that Tony?"

"Ziva has a secure email address Mossad probably does not know about. She told me she set it up three years ago to safely contact Ari. That was the address she was suppose to email me from. She only send out one message after that it went dark."

The elevator was switched on again and soon enough the door opened. Just before they stepped out Tony turned once more to McGee.

"McGee. Thank you"

"Anytime" and he meant it. He was just as worried for Ziva as Abby and Tony. Ziva was his friend and the team did not feel complete without her.

Tag list: @benedettabeby, @benditlikepress, @happygirl-0408, @tivafanfic, @loudlooks @hopeless-nostalgiac @mrsmungus @and-he-will @kmpotter4140 @litningmyway @koogamy @oceangirl24 @irish-trish @residentdormouse @pro-bee@munstysmind @lovelyme12m @tonysziva @artemisscabin @tivajunkie@television-overload @tiva2023vibes @tivancis @ncisfanatics@tonylovesziva@tony-love-ziva@tonyandzivamakestiva-blog@missbuckynat@zivaninja@do-it-for-the-fandom@mackidockie@fairy-tales-of-yesterday@sweetsouldhavernas@delicatefalice@indestinatus@trueromantic1

#NCIS #Tiva #Ziva David #Tony DiNozzo #promises made #tim mcgee #zony #liat tuvia #abby scuito #jethro gibbs #team

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todoroki-waifu · 3 years ago

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Can I ask for some fluff with Chifuyu~~Where girlfriend reader is use to being affectionate (she’s a naturally affectionate person) so when saying sweet things to him, hugging, cuddling, hand holding, etc. she’s not shy about it and doesn’t really blush compared to Chifuyu who is the opposite! Like he’s always blushing bad and nervous with her being so sweet or close like that. So what if one time Chifuyu decides to be confident and try and make her blush hard for him instead?!! What does he do and/or say💗?

Note: Thank you soooo much for the request! I’m so sorry that this is so late! Not sure if you saw my previous post, but I was out of town and got sick. Feeling much better now! Please don’t hate me!

Chifuyu x F! Reader

Warning: Some slight suggestive NSFW themes? Cursing (just ass and hell was used a couple times here). Female reader.

Genre: Fluff and comedy

Word Count: 1,193

----------

Note: This was the video I used for reference lolol. Chifuyu was desperate. He wanted to make you feel the way he did. He wanted to see if he could make you nervous or blush.

No.

He needed to know if he could also make your heart flutter the way you did to him.

But maybe going to Baji wasn't really the best idea. Chifuyu was hesitant at first, but he trusted his captain and hoped that he could provide him with some quality advice.

"Slap her ass." "Wha-what?" "You know, give her ass a little smack." Baji said as he tied his hair back to keep cool from the burning sun. The Toman gang and you were hanging out at the park, taking advantage of the clear weather and summer break. "I can't do that! That's disrespectful!" "Not unless she told you she likes and wants you to do it." Baji replies quickly. He'd never suggest touching anyone without permission. "I wouldn't know. I never tried it." You and Chifuyu have been dating for a few months, but your physical touches only consisted of kissing, holding hands, and hugging. He was too nervous to go any further. He really valued your and his relationship! "Okay, okay. I got it." Baji grins as he calls you over. "Wait, what's your idea?" He sees you slowly approaching him. "Tell her her ass looks juicy. It's a trend going around and apparently girls like it." "What?! I can't say that! Isn't that a little too much?" Chifuyu was trying to think of an alternative but it was too late. "Say what?" You smile at your boyfriend, tilting your head as Baji slaps his hand on his friend's back. "Yeah, buddy, you told me to call her over. What did you wanna say?" He encouraged his vice captain. "Oh, need some privacy? My bad. Let me give you some space." "Everything okay?" You asked, seeing how he looked a bit nervous once Baji left. "Ye-yeah. I just wanted to tell you that your b-butt looks. . . j-juicy." God he just wanted to punch himself until he passed out. This was such a bad idea! Why the hell did he even go with Baji's plan!? "Wait, really? You think so?" Chifuyu hears the excitement in your voice, taking a moment to process your reaction. He thought you'd slap him or think of him as a pervert! "Ye-yeah! It looks great!" He quickly responds. "I'm so happy!" You squealed as you did a little dance. "I've been training with Mikey and doing these new exercises to build my endurance. I have noticed that my muscles are a little bit tighter so I'm glad you noticed, too!" You've been learning how to fight so you wouldn't be a liability to the others. Your main goal was to keep up in a fight so you weren't really focused on building your bottom. But hey, you'll take the added bonus. "Really? Well, it's been paying off! You look amazing, babe! I mean, you always do." Chifuyu felt slightly guilty that he didn't notice until you twirled around a bit. He didn't want to be rude if you caught him staring, but he did steal enough glances to realize a difference. In all honesty, he didn't care much for physical looks. What was important to him was the inside and you had one beautiful soul. "Yay! Thank you!" You turned to the side to show more of your backside. "Did you wanna touch it?" Cue Chifuyu's face erupting into different shades of red. ----------- The first attempt was a failure for him. The only positive was that you were happy with your progress, but you didn't blush once! It was your date night today so he thought he'd try out his new approach this time. Without his captain's help. He got the idea from one of his shoujo mangas and prayed that it would be a success. Chifuyu arrived earlier than the designated meeting time, not wanting to be late. "Chifuyu-kun!" He heard you call his name as you rushed over to him. "Sorry, I hope you weren't waiting too long." "Not at all. I just got here as well." "That's good. I was afraid I wasn't gonna make it. There's a lot of people out today." You fixed your hair. "How do I look? It was super crowded at the train station." "Gorgeous as always." He smiles as he gently takes your hand and plants a soft kiss. "Ready to go, princess?" The only nickname he's ever used with you was 'babe' or 'baby' so he thought to switch it up a bit this time. "Princess?" Although his heart was pounding at his attempt to act smooth around you, he kept his gaze on you. Was that a blush? Was your heart finally fluttering? "That's new. I love it!" You giggle as you now wrap your arms around his neck. "Then if I'm your princess, that means you're my prince." He feels you lay a quick kiss on his lips as you stare lovingly at him. "O-of course!" Now he was faltering. "I hope that our story will have a 'happily ever after'." You buried your face in his chest and he's thankful that you couldn't see his flustered reaction. Chifuyu's heart is joyfully dancing in his chest while he couldn't believe that you'd want a happy ending with him, too!

----------- Note: This video was used for reference lolol. The vice captain's next effort was inspired by a video he saw while scrolling through his phone. This had to be it! He's never done this before so he was excited to see your reaction. You were hanging out in his room, trying to pick a movie to watch. While you browsed through the selection, he asked if you could stand up. "I wanna show you something." He tries his best to not stutter. "Sure! What is it?" "Hold your hands together." He interlocks his fingers and you do the same. You mimic his movements, watching him lift all his fingers from one hand. Once your fingers were up, he laced both your hands with his, raising your arms above your head. Chifuyu swifty and gently pins you against the wall while his free hand settles on your hip. "Chi-chifuyu-kun..!" Your __(e/c) eyes widen as a red hue decorated your cheeks. There it was! He did it! Gosh, you looked so cute! "A-ah, sorry! Was that too much?" He instantly releases you, Chifuyu's daring demeanor now replaced with his usual, bashful self. Your boyfriend looks away, trying not to seem like he was relishing in your embarrassment. He kind of was and he'll forever keep that image in his mental file, but he didn't want to make things awkward. Chifuyu then feels a slight tug on his sleeve and he directs his head towards the source. He sees his girlfriend, staring up at him with big and mesmerizing __(e/c) orbs while your cheeks continue to hold their red tint. "Can you..can you do that again?" You ask timidly, pulling him slightly closer to you. Heat suddenly rises to his entire face, his mind too frazzled to produce any coherent sentences. You were definitely going to be the death of him.

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havethetimeofyourstyles · 4 years ago

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in which harry joins a new gym and you’re a trainer there.

a/n: happy new years loves! wishing you all a lovely and happy 2021! first fic of 2021 and im so excited to write more stories this year! to start the new year, here is boxer!harry for you, and this is for my very own timetravelathon fic challenge! if you’d like to join, please let me know, I’d love to have you on board! this story takes place in the 1990, and i know some of the songs mentioned weren’t released specifically in 1990 (just a few years after), but just pretend it was lol because they’re too good to not mention in this story hehe, but happy reading and pls reblog and leave feedback <3

thank you to @sunflowers-styles for beta reading this for me, love you always!

WORD COUNT: 22.6k of (kinda) boxer!harry x trainer!yn filled with angst and smut

WARNINGS: mentions of abandonment and blood

COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALK ABOUT ‘143’ i’d love to know your thoughts!

pls rb to share! <3

16 August 1990

With every move he made, Harry felt a bead of sweat drip down the side of his face, down his back, and trailing down his chest. Small huffs of breath were released from his mouth, trying not to make it known that he was exhausted, but he continued until all of his energy was used up through the very end.

“C’mon,” he muttered to himself, anticipating the certain words to be yelled out.

He’d been going at it for a while now, muscles aching as he felt like he was about to collapse any minute. But he was determined to finish, to feel the satisfaction running through his veins, knowing that this was his best round.

“And time!” His trainer yelled at him, clicking the stop button on his timer.

Harry got in one last punch before putting his arms down, the soreness made his limbs feel like jello as he shook them out. The black leather punching bag was swinging back and forth, the chain that held up the speed bag rattled and slid against the metal bar. Harry loved that sound because it indicated that he was going his hardest to where the chain couldn’t keep up.

“Nice one, kid.” Henson, his trainer said as he fist-bumped Harry’s red glove.

Harry simply nodded in appreciation, too exhausted to speak as he placed his gloves onto his knees, leaning down as beads of sweat dripped down onto the matted floor. Several harsh breaths came out of his mouth as he sniffed in the fresh oxygen that was mixed with the musky scent of the gym.

Benny, Harry’s best friend, exited the ring, wiping the sweat off his forehead with his arm before walking towards Harry, who was still leaning on his knees. Benny tapped Harry’s glove, making him stand up straighter, and Harry patted Benny’s back.

“Good job out there, mate,” Harry told his best friend. Benny was in the ring with one of the other trainers, Mike, doing one of the nonstop routines. Harry liked training with Mike in the ring, but not when it was for cardio and timed rounds; he liked when it was chill, so he knew how hard he had to hit the target, which were the pads. But for the timed rounds they did, Harry was usually by the speed bags and Mike was in the ring.

“You too, man,” Benny breathed out with a smile.

They headed over to the bench to take their gloves off and catch a breather. The pair would do a cardio day every Thursday to get a good, sweaty workout in, and it always left them exhausted, but definitely much stronger.

“Hey, I’m not gonna be able to workout next Thursday,” Benny mentioned. Harry furrowed his brows as he put the end of the strap between his teeth to pull it off from the velcro, taking one glove off.

“What? Why not?” Harry asked confusingly. They never really had to call off a workout, especially Thursdays, unless one of them was sick, but other than that, neither of them missed any workout days.

“I’m taking the wife on a date,” Benny smirked, clearly very excited to spend some time with his wife, but Harry wasn’t amused.

“On a Thursday? Why can’t you do that on Friday?”

Benny rolled his eyes. “Because we both called off Friday, so we’re having a four day weekend to ourselves,” he explained.

Harry huffed, clearly not entertained. “Guess so…”

Benny knew Harry was always like this, ever since they were younger. The two had been so close ever since they met, now that Benny had a wife, Harry always felt like the third wheel and that he rarely saw Benny, however, that wasn’t entirely true Benny exercised with Harry every night during the weekdays, and sometimes they even grabbed a bite to eat afterward when Benny could use that time to be with his wife, Marianne.

Harry had an overwhelming fear of abandonment, it led him to have anxieties about how Benny could just get up and walk out of his life, even though he wouldn’t. Maybe it was why Harry is so attached to him; he’s the closest to Harry and it would completely destroy him if Benny ever decided that he didn’t want to be his friend anymore. That fear only grew based on an unfortunate turn of events that happened in college, four years ago, and it left Harry to pieces. Benny had never seen Harry so broken where he literally had to pick him up and take care of him. He never wanted to see his best friend like that ever again because it absolutely crushed him.

“It’s two days that we’re not going to be seeing each other, chill out. Didn’t know you were that in love with me,” Benny joked, hoping to lighten up Harry’s mood. Luckily, it worked because Harry breathed out a chuckle, throwing his towel at Benny’s face.

The two collected their belongings and walked over to the trainers as they always do at the end of every workout to have a light chat with them. Henson and Mike told them they did a great job and asked to confirm if they were still on for tomorrow, which Benny and Harry both agreed to. Benny also mentioned about not being able to work out next Thursday and Friday, including the reason why he wasn’t able to.

Henson and Mike looked at each other as if they were keeping something from the two. Harry titled his head and looked at Benny as if he was asking if he knew the reason why they were looking at each other weirdly, but Benny just shrugged his shoulders, just as clueless as Harry.

“Are you gonna tell us why you’re acting suspiciously?” Harry asked. The two trainers both sighed defeatedly.

“About that…” Henson started. “Next Friday…we’re closing,” he added.

“Like, closing for the day?” Benny asked innocently, hoping they didn’t mean what he really thought.

“No…for good,” Mike stated. Harry and Benny’s eyes both widened, words coming out of both of their mouths profusely. They were both talking over each other, disagreeing and not accepting the fact that the gym was shutting down.

“You can’t just do that-”

“-No, we refuse to let you close down-”

“Alright, guys! Settle down. You’re starting to act like kids, for god's sake,” Henson interrupted the tantrum that was about to start.

“You guys can’t just do that!” Benny exclaimed.

“Why are you guys even doing that?” Harry asked.

Mike sighed. “We mutually decided that it was best to close down because…we really need the money. My rent has been skyrocketing crazy high because more people have just decided that moving to Los Angeles is fun.” He rolled his eyes, and Harry slightly chuckled because it was true. Hollywood was the place to be and people from out of state had just figured out their new profound dream to move to one of the busiest cities.

“Fight Night will never be forgotten, alright? We’re just ready to let this place go. Plus, the roof is leaking and the wall is tearing apart, and that’s gonna be a pain to fix,” Henson added.

Mike and Henson were brothers and built Fight Night when they were in college. With the help of their father, they decided to build a place to gain strength and power, all while helping others defend themselves. Harry and Benny had been frequenting it ever since college, and it felt like home to them. Aside from the yelling and stuffy scent, it was a place for them to release any type of anger or stress.

Benny introduced Fight Night to Harry when he had physically picked Harry up from the ground on, what possibly was, the worst night of his life. It was something Harry looked forward to after classes, anxiously bouncing his leg up and down, waiting to get to the gym. Fight Night helped rebuild him, and now, he was in disbelief that the gym was closing.

“We’re old as fuck now. We wanna live our lives freely. Time to retire now, don’t you think?” Mike said with a sad chuckle. They were both in their late fifties, so Harry and Benny understood why they wanted to be free of work.

The four of them hugged it out, a very emotional and sentimental hug that was heartwarming but sad. Eyes were slightly watered before Henson pushed them and said, “We’re closing the gym next week, not fucking dying! We have time for this bullshit for an entire week.”

Harry and Benny left the gym with bittersweet hearts, but they kept Fight Night close to them, knowing that they owed a lot to the gym and the two men who built the facility. Mike had recommended some gyms that were close by if they were still interested in boxing, which they definitely were, so they were planning to check them out first before signing up.

“Do you wanna get something to eat?” Harry asked once they were outside of the gym. The air was humid, nothing different from inside the gym since it was summer and the sun was beginning to go down.

“Nah, I’m good. Gonna get home to Marianne. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Benny pat Harry’s back, nodding.

Harry waved. “See you.” He watched Benny walk away before getting into his silver 1990 BMW 5 series, sighing. He always hated going home, and he always tried staying out for as long as he possibly could.

As he drove home, he anxiously tapped his hands on the steering wheel as he couldn’t quite keep them still. It’d been happening for a while, a lot more often than he’d like, but he couldn’t help it.

Walking into the darkness and emptiness of his home, he sighed sadly as he sulked all the way to the restroom to shower. The hot steam relieved his achy and sore muscles, but he was hoping for this shower to also release any occurring and bad thoughts he had in his head.

He couldn’t help but think about the gym closing down. After going there for years, he couldn’t imagine going to a new gym; he’d adapted and adjusted to Fight Night that it would take him forever to find a gym that truly made him feel wanted. He was scared, to say the least.

Harry was never a big fan of change. He liked being comfortable and stable and didn't like to move around a lot. So, the thought of going to a different gym that wasn’t Fight Night, terrified him. It only added to the list of things that had abandoned him.

Once he was out of the shower, white towel secured lowly on his hips, showcasing his beautiful toned torso that was filled and inked with tattoos, his pager beeped. He wondered who it was as he walked over to his nightstand, considering that it was nearing nine in the evening.

He deeply sighed when he saw the pager read ‘345987,’ immediately knowing who it was. The pager code meaning ‘I’m horny’ could only mean it’s coming from Lizette.

Deciding not to answer the page, Harry set his pager down before walking back to the restroom, only for his home phone to ring, causing him to stop in his steps and answer the phone.

“Hello?” Harry answered.

“Hey, baby,” Lizette said seductively. His brows furrowed, holding the towel to his waist as it had loosened up a bit.

“What do you want?”

“You know what I want…” He knew exactly what she wanted. If she hadn’t paged him, he would still know what she wanted from him since all he provided to her was sex. “Isn’t it such a coincidence that I’m outside of your door right now?” Harry didn’t say anything but pinch the bridge of his nose before hanging up.

He walked towards his front door, sighing before opening the door that revealed Lizette on the other side, wearing a low cut top, cleavage clearly showing, and high waisted denim shorts. She leaned on the doorframe, smirking as she looked Harry up and down, noticing that he wasn’t wearing anything but a towel. Harry gulped as she stepped forward, placing her hands on his stomach before completely taking the towel off, and a smug smile plastered on her face.

Harry lets her take over like he always did. The feel of someone else’s body holding his, and lips kissing his own and his skin was something he couldn’t compare to anything else. Harry simply only did this to have some companionship, and Lizette made him feel a lot less lonely even if she was only there to have sex with him. He enjoys it twenty-five percent of the time—the other seventy-five percent was him actually wallowing in wanting someone to love him for him.

After they were done, Harry immediately covered himself with the blanket as Lizette got out of the bed to change back into her clothes. Even though they had sex multiple times and she’s seen him naked, there was something about the vulnerability after the sex that he didn’t want her to see because she didn’t quite deserve that if he was being honest.

“I had fun. Call you next time,” Lizette bid him goodbye before smacking a big kiss to his cheek, leaving a lipstick stain on his skin. She walked herself out, and once Harry heard the slam of the front door closing, he cringed slightly, wiping the lipstick off.

He turned onto his side, deeply exhaling. He didn’t feel anything but numbness—it was always like this. He used sex to cope with how he felt, but it only made it worse. Honestly, he didn’t know what else to do, so it was the only thing he turned to, other than boxing.

Harry fell asleep in his lonely room by himself. His heart was empty and felt like an isolated building that only carried his sadness.

The entire week had gone by in a flash — Fight Night was officially closed down for good.

Harry and Benny helped clean the space out as they reminisced and talked about the memories that were made in that gym. A lot of the stories had to do with girls walking by the gym, glancing through the window to see men working out, and then promptly walking into the gym to try and hit on the guys.

Harry had tried convincing Henson that he could run the gym, but he shot down the idea before Harry could convince him.

“Kid, look. If you want to run your own gym, do it. I want you to own a gym under your name. Not mine or Mike’s. You deserve to have something of your own, and whatever that may be, work for it. Work hard for it. I know you got it in you because you’re a hard worker, determined. You need to see that for yourself.”

A conversation that was supposed to convince Henson to let Harry run the gym turned into a sentimental series of words that Harry really needed to hear. Harry didn’t say anything else and nodded as he took in Henson’s words to his heart. Henson was someone Harry looked up to. He was an old man with wise words, and everything he said was either meaningful or mean, in a way to show tough love. So, his words were something Harry lived by.

The following Monday after Fight Night closed, Benny and Harry were on the search for their new gym. They didn’t plan on quitting the gym after their favorite one had closed down, and Henson and Mike made them swear they wouldn’t stop working out.

Now, the two were walking into a gym that was up the same amount of time Fight Night was. ‘Don’s Box’ was what the gym was called. The building was newly reconstructed, making the place seem more modern and a little less dingy. The space was quite big, able to fit two rings, six punching bags spread throughout, eight-speed bags, and a weight rack. The walls were painted black, but the amount of natural light from the window was plentiful enough to make the gym feel bigger and brighter.

A decent amount of people were at the gym, sectioned off with a few kids from eight to twelve on one side, and the rest of the adults on the other. There was a good mix between women and men, and everyone hyped everyone up with motivating words and claps over the music that was playing through two speakers that were hung in the corner.

“Can I help you?” An older man with gray hair had asked the two. He looked quite intimidating; wearing nylon sweatpants and a black long-sleeved shirt that was rolled up to his elbows, showing his gold watch. The look he had on his face was stern as he crossed his arms, waiting for an answer.

“Uh, yeah. We’re interested in joining your gym,” Benny told the man. The man looked the two up and down and scoffed.

“Sure you guys are ready for that?”

“We’ve been boxing for years, so yeah, we are.” Harry chimed in, a slightly defensive tone added to his words.

The man glared at Harry, stepping towards him. Harry was slightly taller than him, but he knew the man could definitely take him at any given moment, but Harry wasn’t looking to fight the man, honestly. He wanted to act and look tough in front of him, so the guy wouldn’t give him any crap for it later down the road during his workouts.

“Alright, alright. Take it easy, pa.” You interrupted, placing a hand on the man’s shoulders, making him turn his head. You raised your brows at him before tilting your head a bit, telling him to step back. The man backed off, giving Harry a snarly glance before huffing.

“I’m just messing. Gotta know how tough my athletes are to be here,” he spoke in a lighter tone than he was to the man in front of him, putting his arm around you.

“Thought you were gonna ‘stay on the sidelines’ and let me handle it?” You quoted your father’s words back to him, and he chuckled, putting his hands up, surrendering as he knew he couldn’t win against you.

“Alright, alright. I’ll let you handle it.” Don, your father, quickly looked at Harry up and down, and you rolled your eyes, knowing he wouldn’t do anything to potential customers. He walked away and you breathed out a chuckle, scratching your head.

“Sorry about that. You two are interested in joining?” You asked the two men in front of you. They were rather…attractive, you noticed. The one on the left was gorgeous with beautiful brown skin that looked so smooth. He was wearing a pair of red short-shorts and a white muscle tee. You noticed that he was wearing a wedding ring, so you averted your eyes off of him. The man next to him, however, was absolutely stunning. His left arm carried a sleeve-full of tattoos, and you wanted so badly to examine and look at every single one. With chocolate brown curls, his green eyes had a tad bit of a glimmer to them, not too much though, because if you were being honest, they were a bit dull, like he was exhausted and needed to let off some of the stress that he held based on how tense he looked.

You tried not to observe and think about it too much as your ability to read individuals thrived while meeting new people. You shook it off the thought, not wanting to assume things about their lives and seem too creepy in front of new and potential members.

“Yeah, we are. I’m Benny, by the way.” He shook your hand, smiling.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N. I run this place.” You offered the same smile back. Your eyes looked over at his friend, and he gave you a soft smile. “Y/N,” you repeated, taking your hand out for him to shake.

“I’m Harry. Harry Styles,” he introduced fully. A beautiful name for a beautiful man, you thought. He shook your hand as you felt the softness of his skin mixed with a tad bit of roughness from the callouses, probably from heavy-lifting.

Something about Harry introducing his full name had made you a bit weak in the knees. His deep and accented voice had made you a bit flustered as chills ran up your body. You’re acting like a fool, your subconscious told you. You were never one to show your obvious attraction for men, you were more into watching them from the side. But once Harry walked in, it seemed like you didn’t know how to keep your chill.

“Perfect. Nice to meet you both. Signing up shouldn’t be too long—don’t want to keep you two from working out.” You led the two men to one of the offices, knocking on the wooden door to greet Jamie. “Hi. These two are looking to sign up. Do you mind helping them out?”

“Of course! Come on in, guys,” Jamie greeted them, offering them to take a seat along with some water, which they both said yes to.

“I have to get back to my session, but you both are in great hands. Jamie is one of our best,” you told the two. You sent an innocent wink at Jamie, which he sent one back while Harry watched the entire interaction, feeling uneasy.

It was quite obvious how attractive and pretty you were. The moment he first saw you, his breath had immediately hitched in his throat. You had the most gorgeous face he’d ever seen, and when you spoke, your voice was soft and gentle, making Harry a bit more safe in a place he’s new to.

Jamie had gotten their details and credit card information down before asking them if they needed a tour of the place. They both had said no, seeing as things were pretty self-explanatory and they’d been to a boxing gym before.

They headed out of Jamie’s office and to the main floor, walking over to the heavy bags since the section was less crowded to start stretching. Harry rolled his shoulders and neck around, swinging his arms forwards and backward as he looked around the gym.

This was something he had to get used to—being in a new place, surrounded by new people. At Fight Night, he was around the same people for four years, and he was comfortable — he was fine with it. But now, he had to go through the same process all over again. Nerves and anxiety crept up his skin as he tried to jump around lightly, warming up a bit but also trying to shake off the unwanted feelings.

“Hey, you okay?” Benny asked concerningly as he stretched.

Harry’s brows raised, covering up his anxiousness. “Hmm, yeah, I am. Y’know, just a, uh, new place, that’s all,” he brushed him off.

“Okay. Well, whenever you’re ready to go, just tell me,” Benny told him before going into his bag to grab the wrapping tape.

Harry nodded, smiling in appreciation. Benny had always been a great friend to him, and Harry was a great friend to Benny as well. They always took each other’s feelings and concerns into consideration—always making sure the other is okay. They both really appreciated it because some friends weren’t lucky enough to talk about their feelings and be that vulnerable with one another. They trusted each other; they were like brothers.

Harry grabbed his jump rope, deciding to do a little five-minute warm-up to get his heart rate going. He faced the boxing ring to the left of him, noticing that you were in the ring, so he decided to casually watch you box. He then noticed that you had boxing pads on instead of gloves, and the people you were training were the kids that he had seen earlier.

He watched you instruct the excited kids who were prancing around with their boxing gloves on, in every color imagined. You helped them fix their form, their stance, and their punch; telling them that they had to be quick with their hit to bring their glove back to the side of their face quickly, so their opponent doesn’t have a chance to take a hit. The kids demonstrated for you, punching your right hand that was covered with the pad. You praised all of them, of course, correcting a few things, but overall, everyone was a natural fighter.

Harry’s heart rate definitely started to pick up, and he didn’t know if it was how fast he was jumping rope or because of the flutter he felt as he watched you interact with the kids. He truly never felt this kind of feeling where his heart picked up from the simple act of looking at someone.

You had definitely noticed Harry staring at you from your peripheral view, and you had thought it was a simple glance, but he never looked away. So, you took the opportunity to take a quick look at him while the kids were practicing.

Your eyes met him and you sent him a small smile, along with a wave with your boxing pads. Harry’s eyes widened, realizing that you were waving at him, and what happened next had embarrassed him even more. With how fast he was jumping, he suddenly got tangled with the rope, causing him to trip against it. Luckily, he caught his fall, but he was already embarrassed enough.

Harry’s heart completely dropped, cheeks flushed. He couldn’t believe he had made a complete fool of himself, especially at his new gym. He so badly wanted to tell Benny that he was ready to leave, but when he looked over at his friend, he had already started his workout, being so focused and in the zone that Harry didn’t want to be a burden.

When he turned back around to see if you were still looking, he jolted back a bit as you were behind him.

“Are you okay?” You asked concerningly.

“Uh, yeah. I…yeah, I’m okay. Thanks.” He cleared his throat, trying to cover up the fact that his voice almost cracked. He was so stunned by you. The way you made sure he was okay was possibly the nicest thing someone had done for him as you looked at him with your sweet eyes, and your posture was giving him your full attention. His heart pounded through his chest; the simple action and effort that was being put into this was making him overwhelmed.

“Okay. Let me know if you need anything, yeah?” You told him as you looked at him intently. He simply nodded, knowing that he couldn’t process any more words.

You gave him one last smile before quickly going back to your students. He watched you climb into the ring so effortlessly before continuing your training class.

Harry took a deep breath before walking over to one of the speed bags that was in the corner, hoping to hide away from the embarrassment that he felt. Wrapping his hands up, he anxiously scanned the room, noticing that everyone was doing their own thing. There was a possibility that no one else had seen him almost fall on his face, except you, which he really wished that it was the entire gym who saw him instead, not you. He lazily hit the speed bag, trying to warm up and shake off his mortification. Harry continued hitting the bag, eventually getting into a rhythm as his fists alternated between one another, along with the rhythm of the music of Montrell Jordan’s ‘This Is How We Do It.’

Soon enough, all the worry and stress that was in Harry’s head and body was shaken off and completely forgotten about as he focused on his strong punches, making sure to connect his mind to his muscles, so he could feel his muscles working.

And for the time being, life wasn’t all that bad.

A month had passed since being at Don’s Box, and Harry and Benny quite liked it. They had newer equipment and their music was always on point, playing the best of 90s R&B and Hip-Hop. It was their favorite music to listen to, especially while working out. The people there were nice and cool, never getting in each other’s way and letting everyone do their own thing while still having fun, keeping the space safe and comfortable.

Harry found himself walking into the gym at nine at night, an hour and a half before it closed. Usually, he wouldn’t work out this late, but during the day, he had felt so unmotivated and lazy to even get out of bed. He could put the blame on Lizette because she had gone to his house the night prior, doing the same thing they always do, but he knew she wasn’t the one to blame. Something about saying no to her and having her not talk to him had physically pained him. They were in a specific arrangement, he knew that. But having someone leave him again was something he couldn’t go through.

‘What’s Luv?’ by Fat Joe, Ja Rule, and Ashanti was playing when he set his bag down onto the ground against the wall, next to the heavy bag. He started to stretch as he took a look around; not many people were working out at this time, which he liked.

His eyes continued to search the gym, in hopes he would find you still here. Before the slightest bit of disappointment could settle, he saw you walk out of the hallway with Jamie, smiling and laughing at something he had said. He made a face as a hint of jealousy rushed through as he saw you with Jamie. He knew that there was no point in being jealous because he barely even knew you. But for the past month that he’s been at Don’s Box, you always had this look of excitement on your face when you saw and greeted Harry. It made his stomach flutter every time you would flash him your beautiful smile as you would carry the conversation, asking him about his day and if the music was good, which he commends you for putting his favorite songs on.

Looking away, he decided to just focus on the quick workout he could get in before the gym closed, so he retained his attention back to stretching before bending down to grab the tape from his bag to wrap his hands.

“Uh, hi, Harry,” you smiled as you greeted him. He looked up at you. The way the light was positioned behind your head made you look like an actual angel; you were ethereal.

He stood up and smiled softly. “Hi. How are you?” He asked, trying to contain his nerves from just looking at you. You were gorgeous, as you always are every day. You were wearing a pair of black leggings and a light pink t-shirt that was tied into a knot with the word ‘angel’ that was surrounded by wings printed in the middle. Kind of a coincidence, he thought, thinking back to when he called you an angel in his head.

“Good, good. You’re here later than usual—without Benny too,” you pointed out, but immediately cursed at yourself for making such an odd observation and telling it to his face as if you were keeping track of the times he’s gone into the gym.

“Yeah, I was pretty…tired during the day, so the only time I got a burst of energy was right now. And Benny is with his wife and in-laws tonight, so it’s just me tonight,” he explained with a soft chuckle.

“Well, glad you got the chance to make it in,” you said genuinely. He simply nodded, not knowing what else to say but instead he captured himself into you as you stared at him with your captivating eyes that spoke right through him. What was happening to him? He thought. This hadn’t really happened before, and he was good at letting his walls go up and guarding his precious heart.

“Hey, I’m gonna head out,” Jamie said, greeting you goodbye, and taking Harry out of his thoughts. “Hey, man. Have a good workout.” He shook Harry’s hand, and Harry smiled, nodding.

“See you tomorrow,” you told Jamie, smiling a bit as you waved. Jamie left the gym, and it was just you and Harry, along with a few other people who were wrapping up their workout.

“Are you not gonna go with him?” Harry asked, and you raised your brows in confusion.

“Why would I go with him?” You wondered.

“Oh, I just thought you would leave with him, y’know, your boyfriend…” he trailed off, slyly slipping in the word boyfriend in that sentence.

You giggled, shaking your head. “No, no. Jamie isn't my boyfriend. I’ve known him since I was ten, but nothing’s ever happened between us. Besides, he has a boyfriend of his own.” Harry raised his brows in shock as his shoulders visibly relaxed. “No need to worry, Harry. I’m all yours,” you flirted a bit. You normally wouldn’t flirt so easily with someone, especially if they were a member of your gym, but something about Harry had made you release all the stress you had once you saw and talked to him.

Harry blushed, grinning as his dimple popped out on his cheek. Your eyes lightened once you noticed that feature, making you think that he was ten times cuter than he already is.

“You’ve been in the ring, right?” You asked curiously. Harry nodded, and the corner of your lips turned up. “Great! We have about a little less than an hour and a half, so if you’re looking for some intense cardio, I could do it with you—y’know, train you and guide you, and whatnot,” you suggested.

If Harry’s being honest, he wasn’t planning on doing cardio today—just a few routines to get his muscles warm, but the way you’re looking at him and how you spoke to him so softly and effortlessly, he couldn’t say no.

“Yeah, I’m up for it,” he responded. Your eye brightened, resisting the urge to squeal from excitement, telling him that you were going to get the mitts and to meet you in the ring. He chuckled slightly as you walked over to the equipment room to get the mitts. Harry quickly hit the speed bag to warm up until he saw you walk out of the room.

He put on his gray sweater and a green packers beanie, so he could sweat more before he met you in the ring with his gloves pressed between his arm and the side of his body. You put the mitts in between your legs as Harry handed you one of the gloves. Holding onto the end of it, he put his hand inside as you pushed the glove towards him, so it would sit on his hand tightly before strapping it securely for him before proceeding to the next one. The proximity between you two was quite close as you helped him put on the gloves, and you could smell the faint scent of cologne mixed with the slightest bit of sweat, giving him that unique musk; the one that doesn’t smell horrible at all but lured you in.

You quickly snapped out of your thoughts and looked up at Harry. “Good?” He nodded, punching the gloves together to make sure they felt comfortable. “Ready?”

“Let’s do this,” Harry said, skipping in place to warm his body up before getting into his stance. His left leg was a few feet away from his right leg as he bounced around a bit, waiting for you.

You faintly smirked, nodding your head before you put on the mitts. Since Harry was very familiar with the mitt workouts, you figured that you didn’t need to explain what each number represented since mostly all trainers and coaches use the same numbers for the same punch.

“Okay, let’s warm up a bit. Give me one,” you instructed. Harry put his gloves up to protect his face as you held your right mitt up. With his left hand, he punched your mitt, not giving his full strength. “Is that all you got?” You challenged, knowing that he had more power in him.

“I-I don’t want to hurt you,” he said honestly with a small pout, standing straight from his boxing stance. Usually, you would take offense to that statement, barking back a comment saying that just because you were a girl it didn’t mean you couldn’t take a hit, but you didn’t go that far into it, knowing Harry didn’t mean it that way whatsoever.

“You’re not gonna hurt me, Harry. I’ve trained so many people—all with different body types and strengths. My hand has felt all different types of power, so hit the mitt like you mean it.” You hit his shoulder, building up his motivation. He nodded, getting back into his stance as did you. “Now, give me one.”

This time, Harry’s glove met your mitt with full potential and force, and you took the hit well—not moving back or being stunned.

“There you go! Keep going,” you told him, and he continued giving you jabs. ‘In Da Club’ by 50 Cent was blaring through the speakers as Harry breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth. Several huffs of breath came out loudly as he punched, moving and dancing around the ring with you as the two of you occasionally shifted and switched positions.

Harry got in a few more punches before you switched it up, telling him, “1-2.” Harry jabbed with his left hand and crossed jabbed with his right hand, putting his full range of motion into his right punch. He did that combination five times as he started to feel sweat dripping down his back and the sides of his forehead.

You were yelling out words of encouragement and motivation, praising him for his punches, to which he responded back with a better and solid punch to your mitts.

“Nice!” You took a step back to move around the ring to take advantage of the space as Harry jumped and skipped around to wherever you directed him to. “Wanna take a break?” You asked. He shook his head no, determined to finish this workout that he couldn’t even think about wanting to take a break because he really didn’t want to. “Okay, 1-4-3,” you told him. With force, he jabbed, hooked with his left hand, and hooked with his right hand.

This feeling that he had felt—being in the ring with you—was something entirely different than when he was in the ring with Henson or Mike. The stress that he physically carried onto his shoulder had washed away into nothingness, leaving him with a drive that didn’t include overthinking and fear. The fear that had left him worried and depressed, that his life would amount to nothing—that fear disappeared inside him once he threw the first punch. It was exhilarating and fun, and he didn’t know he could have this much fun in the ring. But this was the most pleasure he’s ever felt while boxing.

You ordered him to do some different combinations, such as ‘1-2-3-5,’ which was a jab, cross jab, leading hook, and rear uppercut. You also included moments when he had to duck because you were swinging at him. He definitely had gotten into a rhythm, punching and moving faster. You were the trainer, the person that was supposed to instruct him, but you matched his rhythm and energy and moved quicker with him as well.

You were starting to get a sweat in as well, and that was mostly because of the adrenaline rushing through your blood as you moved excitedly around the ring.

After a while, a timer had gone off, telling you that it was time to close up as Harry’s focus was cut off—the sound making him look up hastily. Throughout the time you were working out with Harry, people were slowly starting to make their way out, but the two of you were too focused on working out that you hadn’t even noticed that it was just the two of you left in the gym.

“Oh, guess we’re closing.” You stood up straighter, wiping the sweat on your forehead with your forearm. “Feelin’ good?” You asked Harry with a proud smile.

“Feelin’ great,” he smirked.

“Good, I’m glad. You did great!” You complimented, ripping the velcro strap with your teeth as you took off the mitts. Harry did the same, shaking out his arms as he clenched and unclenched his fists to relieve the ache from making a fist for more than an hour.

“Thank you. You’re a really great trainer, by the way. This was…the first time I had fun in the ring,” he told you honestly, and without knowing, the slightest bit of him had opened up to you.

Your eyes brightened, a glimpse of shimmer reflected on your eyes. “Really? Thank you, that makes me really happy, actually.” You felt like you were going to cry on the spot. No one, except your younger students, had ever told you that they had fun in the ring since most people used boxing as a way to get stronger and improve their punches. But fun? That was the first, and you would definitely keep that with you forever.

You and Harry walked to one end of the ring as Harry held open the top two ropes with his hand as he stepped on the bottom two ropes with his foot, holding it open for you to get out. You blushed, thanking him before you got out of the ring as he followed you out.

Once you two were on the ground, you turned around to face him. You watched as he took off his beanie, shaking his hair out as they bounced; curls were now formed into waves because of the heat and the sweat that had produced in his beanie. He looked…extra good right now. With his cheeks flushed, hair messy, and sweat dripping down his forehead, you couldn’t put into words how incredibly sexy he looked.

You cleared your throat, not wanting to get caught for ogling him. “I, uh, have to check on some things before closing. Take your time! And I’ll see you on Monday?” You raised your brows and curled your lips in as you looked up at him. A sense of flustered-ness settled in you as you waited for his answer.

He breathed out a chuckle as he looked down briefly before looking back into your eyes again. “Yeah, I’ll see you.” You nodded your head, waving at him before you headed over to the office. Harry smiled as he watched you walk into the hallway until he couldn’t see you anymore.

A small blush formed onto his cheeks as he contained himself from smiling too big and too wide. He put all of his stuff back into his bag, grabbing his towel, ridding the sweat off his skin. Grabbing his belongings, he took another glance at the hallway, hoping to get another look at you before he took off, but you were occupied with closing the gym, so he didn’t bother staying any longer.

With a small smile on his face, he walked out of the gym, taking in this new profound feeling that he’d never felt before, hoping this feeling would last.

The next morning, Harry had a sudden urge to go back to the gym. His upper body was quite sore, but he figured he could do some leg exercises to balance the soreness he felt. He normally wouldn’t workout on the weekends since those were his rest days, but despite being sore, he didn’t feel tired. It could also do with the fact that he wanted to see you again, not wanting to wait until Monday to do that again.

When he walked into the gym, ‘Ride Wit Me’ by Nelly was playing and his head slightly bopped to the music, walking over to the corner of the gym to warm up. He scanned the gym, looking for a particular person, but couldn’t find you. There were a decent amount of people, not too crowded or too little, so it should’ve been easy to find you. Thinking that you were probably in your office, he shook off the slight disappointment and got ready to workout.

Throughout his workout, his head wasn’t in it. He kept glancing through the mirror to see if you had shown up, but you hadn’t. His eyes were always looking over at the front door every time someone would walk in, but a small frown settled onto his face when he realized it wasn’t you.

He wrapped up his workout an hour later, thinking that he somewhat still got a good workout in. He walked out of the gym, saying bye to some of the guys that had caught him before he left.

It was nearing noon when his stomach had growled, urging him to consume some food. There was a Mediterranean hole-in-the-wall restaurant right across Don’s Box, and his mouth watered at the thought of it. He walked to his car that was parked on the side of the street to drop his bag off before walking across the street to the restaurant.

He scanned the menu, standing on the side since he didn’t know what he was ordering yet. The sound of the door ringing and a voice that was speaking to him brought him out of his thoughts.

“Are you in line?” Harry turned his head towards the voice, and his heart nearly beating ten times faster when he saw you. He had a shocked expression on his face, not expecting to see you, especially when you were wearing the complete opposite of what he normally sees you in. You were wearing a pair of blue denim overalls with a black t-shirt underneath, along with white Reebok sneakers. You had a bit of makeup on; an orange sparkly eyeshadow look with some mascara that made your eyelashes look full and natural. Your lips were painted in a red-orange lipstick stain, bringing out more of your natural lip color.

The beauty that Harry’s eyes were blessed with made his knees weak, sending shivers to his skin. Your angelic appearance had struck him so hard that he was sure he would see the light of day, hoping to meet you up there since you were a real-life angel.

“Y/N…hi,” he managed to spit out.

“Hi, Harry. Did you just workout?” You asked.

He nodded, feeling a bit nervous. “Uh, yeah, I did.”

“You don’t usually go in on Saturdays…” you noticed, only seeing him during the weekdays. You’re off on Saturdays, but there was one Saturday that you had gone into the gym briefly, and you didn’t see him there.

“Yeah, I felt like going in today,” he said, obviously leaving out the part that he only went to the gym to see you again, but you didn’t need to know that bit. There was a moment of silence between you two until Harry remembered that he was probably holding up the line for you. “Oh, you could go ahead. I’m not ready to order yet.”

You smiled, nodding your head as you stepped forward in the line. “Have you ever been here before?”

“No, I haven’t. Do you have any suggestions?”

You slightly squinted your eyes at him. “Do you trust me?” You asked.

That was a difficult question for him, and somewhat vague. Did you mean overall, at the moment, or for his food order? Either way, he nodded because he knew that it didn’t matter what you meant--he had this sense of security with you that he would trust you with his life, and that said a lot, considering that he’d only known you for a month.

“Yeah, I do trust you,” he stated honestly.

His words brought a grin to your face, looking at him appreciatively. Based on your observations of him, you noticed that he was a bit closed off; he didn’t open himself up, and if he did, it took a lot in him to do just that. So, hearing him tell you that he trusts you made you grateful, and you would never do anything to take advantage of that trust because he didn’t just give it out easily.

“I got you,” you simply said before turning back around towards the cashier. Harry softly smirked as he took a step forward to stand next to you. You looked at him, flashing him a toothy grin before quickly facing forward.

You ordered your favorite dish from the restaurant, which was a beef kabab plate, for the both of you. Harry quickly got his wallet out, offering to pay, but you told him that you got it this time, hoping your words conveyed that you wanted there to be a next time. He shyly thanked you for the lunch, keeping your words in mind because he would definitely be up for a ‘next time.’

Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long for your order to come out, which was fortunate for Harry because he was starving. You suggested eating outside since it was a beautiful day out and Harry agreed, following you out of the restaurant.

You two sat on the metal chairs, digging into your dishes. Harry’s mouth watered as he ate, his stomach being satisfied. There was a comfortable silence that settled between you two, only making small conversation when you asked if he liked the food, which you were glad to hear that he loved.

“So, how long have you been running Don’s Box?” He suddenly asked, wanting to get to know you better.

You raised your brows at his question. “For about two years now. My father, Don, opened the gym when he was twenty-five, that’s when he had me as well. But when he opened the gym, it practically changed his life. He’d boxed all of his life, and he was happy training other people when he started getting more people to come into his gym. When I was about six, he told me that he wanted me to run the gym when I turned twenty-five, only if I wanted to. But of course, I did. I looked up to him all of my life, and the gym made me happy as well,” you explained, smiling at the memory of when you were younger, being excited to turn twenty-five to do the same thing your father did.

A soft smile appeared on Harry’s face as you reminisce on the memory.

“How long have you been boxing?”

“Since I was eight. Don showed me the ropes when I told him I was ready. There used to be a seating area on the side of the ring because when I was younger, I used to sit there and watch him work and train people. So, I was pretty interested and intrigued about fighting to get myself stronger, even at the young age of eight,” you chuckled.

You were a daddy’s girl, always had been since you were born. Don had always set a pretty amazing example of how you should go about living your life. He would always say ‘Live your life with a strong punch. Keep your head up, and don’t let anything get to you because you’re so much more than what other people say. But if you need to cry, you can—there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.’

As your eyes watered from the thought of your father’s words, Harry watched as you got emotional and he couldn’t help but think that you’ve crossed a line in asking too many questions.

“Sorry, I always get emotional-”

“I’m sorry if I’ve overstepped—I should’ve kept the questions to myself-”

“Oh, no! You didn’t overstep whatsoever. I’m glad you asked me those questions, I just get soft and emotional over my dad, so hence, I’m tearing up,” you let out a somewhat pathetic chuckle as you couldn’t believe that you almost cried in front of this gorgeous man. You dabbed the corners of your eyes with your napkin, stopping the tears from falling out.

Harry nodded understandingly, waiting for you to regroup yourself. You kept apologizing, but he kept telling you that you had nothing to be sorry for.

“Really, if you need to cry, you can…” he told you. Your eyes widened; you were just thinking about your dad’s words two minutes ago, and for Harry to say the exact same thing Don had always told you without even knowing that Don had said those words.

Not wanting to cry in front of him, you simply nodded your head, holding the napkin on the outer corner of your eye, so the napkin would catch your tears.

Harry quickly changed the subject, sensing that you needed it, and you really did, so you were grateful for that. He busied himself by telling you what his favorite ice cream flavor was since he was suddenly reminded that there was a shop just down the street. He kept you occupied by talking about all the sweet treats that he used to eat with his mom back home, and how much he missed walking down the streets in the city to eat some ice cream.

“My mum used to make this really great chocolate mousse pie, and we would eat it every weekend. It was extremely sweet, but it was delicious. I really miss it…” he told you. That had been a while ago, but it was like he could still taste the dessert as if he just ate it yesterday.

“Is your mom back home in England?” You asked, figuring that there wasn’t any harm in asking to get to know him since he asked you some questions as well.

“Uh…actually, I don’t know where she is…” he said honestly, and you knitted your brows in confusion. “I mean, honestly. I don’t know where she is. Ever since I went to uni, she’s been all over the place, taking vacations and barely calling. I-I feel like she’s forgotten about me,” he spoke ever so softly as he was fragile.

You listened to him intently, giving him your full attention as he was opening up a part of his life that you knew he doesn’t tell a lot of people. A part of him that he’s kept in for so long and just the passing sense of relief he felt saying those words and speaking up about this subject had made him feel so much better.

“I’m sure she didn’t forget about you.”

“Seemed like it. We inherited my grandfather’s will—left us a generous amount for each of us that’ll take care of us for the rest of our lives. And she took that and ran with it. I mean, I get it—she wants to live her life, and now’s the time to do that because she’s got the money for it, but I feel…abandoned. She got up, said goodbye, and just…left. It just makes me think that I’m not good enough—that I wasn’t good enough to stay.” Harry opened a can of worms that he can’t take back anymore. But the trust that he had in you already made him want to talk about everything with you; to open up about all of his stresses and insecurities.

Boldly, you reached your arm across the table but immediately pulled away because you didn’t want to touch him without asking. But before you could open your mouth and ask, Harry had reached forward, meeting your hand halfway as his palm was facing up as if it was a way of saying ‘you can hold my hand if you want.’ Blushing, you reached forward again and took your hand into his.

The touch was sweet and tender as you two held hands; the want to hold each other tighter was present, wanting to take away Harry’s pain.

“Harry, you will always be good enough. I know we just met a month ago, but I already know that you’re the sweetest, kindest person. Please know that. You are enough, and I’m grateful that you’re here and that I’m sitting across from you, eating lunch,” you declared. Harry sniffled, not knowing what to say as he put his head down, so you continued. “For as long as we’re friends, I’m gonna stay.” You spoke with complete honesty as you caressed the back of his hand with your thumb.

Harry’s head lifted up at your last statement in disbelief as if this was the first time someone had ever said that to him.

“Really?”

You squeezed his hand, making his heart flutter. “Yeah. As long as you want me to,” you reassured, nodding.

Harry gave you a soft and appreciating smile as he took a deep breath. The breath that he held in throughout the entirety of the conversation was finally let out in relief. He shrunk back into his seat, still holding your hand as you continued rubbing it, and he breathed out a chuckle. It was an overwhelming feeling that was riddled with happiness and a sense of security washed over him.

It was like he had been waiting for you; someone new that unexpectedly came into his life was scary because it was change, but it was a good change. A change for the better. He had been vulnerable enough to open himself up, and it all led to the tight bond and trust you two had with one another, sealing your friendship and relationship.

And you both knew this moment was going to change everything.

Time had passed by rather quickly as it was nearing the end of October. The weather was getting chillier as the sun was beginning to disappear behind the clouds earlier. There was something about the fall weather that Harry adored. It may have to do with the fact that the gloomy sky had occurred more often, or how he got to call it a night early. Whatever it may be, he liked it, or he used to.

In recent times, he wanted the sun to stay out until it was time to go to bed. He wanted warm days instead of gloomy. His new changed attitude towards life had to do with you.

You and Harry had been hanging out quite a lot; getting to know one another, getting a bite or drink, and working out together, it definitely gave Harry the chance to let go of his past. He was happier, smiled more, and laughed a lot which he didn’t know he was capable of doing those things again until he met you.

Benny loved it, though. He sure cherished it because seeing his best friend happy again was something he was afraid he wouldn’t see again. But that didn’t stop him from having a little talk with you, trying to protect Harry and set you straight.

When Harry was occupied with hitting the speed bag, Benny walked over to the ring, where you had just finished another class with your younger students.

“Hey, Benny!” You greeted him once you saw him walk towards you.

“Hey, do you mind chatting for a minute?” You raised your brows, nodding your head. Benny usually didn’t talk to you privately nor was it anything serious, but by the look on his face, it seemed pretty serious. “So, you’ve been hanging out with Harry a lot, hmm?”

You smiled softly. “Yeah! Hope you don’t mind that? Know I’m taking your best friend and all…”

“No, I don’t mind. I’m actually glad you are. He seems quite taken by you, and I haven’t seen him like that in a very long time,” Benny said honestly. You seemed to know where this conversation was going now, and now that you thought about it, you expected this from Benny because they were like brothers and Benny would do anything to protect Harry. “What I’m trying to say is…if you’re only hanging out with him to fuck with him, don’t bother. He’s been through enough, and I know he can’t handle anymore of that and I can’t stand to see him like that again.”

“Like what?” You hesitatingly asked.

“Like…just know that he was a mess. He couldn’t get up, eat, drink, shower, or anything. I had to physically help him. I don’t want to see him like that ever again.” Benny shook his head as if he was reliving the horrible nightmare that he went through a few years ago.

“Is this about his mom?”

“He told you that?” He asked, just to make sure, and you nodded. “Kind of. But that’s only half of it. He’ll tell you when he’s ready, but I’ve already said too much. Just…take care of him, okay? He tries to act tough sometimes, but he’s trying his best to not break down. Although, I haven’t seen that kind of look on him since he’s been hanging out with you, so you’re probably doing something right.”

You nodded understandingly. “Thanks for talking to me. I don’t plan on breaking his heart at all, and I’m quite taken with him myself,” you admitted.

“Good. I’m glad you are. He’s a great guy.” Benny smiled, and you agreed.

Benny didn’t talk to you for much longer before he started getting cold from standing around, so he ended the conversation and went back to working out.

Meanwhile, as you and Benny were talking, Don took the chance himself to talk to Harry, seeing as you were occupied.

“Harry.” Don made himself present around him.

Harry immediately stopped his workout, greeting your father. “What’s up, Don?”

“So, I’ve noticed that you’ve been hanging around Y/N a lot.” Don’s stance changed as he crossed his arms, sporting a slight frown. Harry gulped; he always found Don to be quite intimidating, ever since he joined the gym, but Harry didn’t want to seem like he couldn’t have a serious conversation with the father of the woman that he’s slowly falling for--no, he couldn’t act like that. “What’s that all about?” Don added.

“I’m just…we’re friends, so we’re just hanging out. Nothing more,” he told Don honestly. Although he would like there to be more, he didn’t know how you felt about him or if you even felt anything for him at all.

Don nodded. He could tell that Harry was holding back on something he wanted to say, and he had an idea of what that was. So, he let loose of the intimidating and protective act, knowing that wasn’t really him anyway, and his expression softened as he uncrossed his arms. He placed a comforting hand on Harry’s shoulder, taking a deep breath.

“You have this look of wanting to say more and you don’t have to tell me, but I will tell you this…if you want to date her and go out with her, you can. This isn’t approval and a ‘yes’ for you to take her out because I don’t need to do that--she can make her own decisions. All I’m saying is that if you want to, go for it. Life is too fuckin’ short to not do anything, to not say anything.”

Harry’s shoulders relaxed and he smiled in appreciation at Don’s words. “Thanks, Don. I definitely want to take her out, but I just don’t know how she feels about me.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure she feels something for you--she hasn’t told me, but I just know. You’re the first guy in a while that she’s been hanging around with consistently, and that comforts me, in a way. Knowing that she’s living her life and not holding back anymore.” Harry stayed silent, taking his words in. He tried not to overanalyze what Don had said because you’ll tell him and open up to him when you want to, just like how you’re patiently waiting for Harry to open up fully as well. “Just…don’t break her heart, okay? She’s been through enough and I just want her to be happy.”

Harry nodded understandingly, saying a soft ‘okay’ before Don changed the subject and talked about how Harry should train with him one of these days, which Harry immediately said yes to and they planned for the following week to train. Don left him to finish his workout, telling him to have a nice night as you and Harry were going out to dinner.

Benny and Harry finished up their workout, and before they were able to head out the front door, Harry stopped, telling Benny to give him a minute. Harry fast-walked towards you, lugging his bag on his shoulder. You were coming out of your office, which was why Harry couldn’t say goodbye to you after his workout.

“Hey, we’re heading out,” he said, wiping the bit of sweat on the back of his neck with his towel.

“Oh, okay. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, I’ll pick you up,” Harry suggested, pursing his lips into his mouth as he contained his smile. You nodded, eyes sparkling as you looked up at him. “I’ll, uh, page you,” he slightly smirked.

“Okay,” you mindlessly responded as you were getting quite lost in his green eyes that looked at you intently with a gleam that sat so perfectly against his irises, making his eyes glimmer brightly.

He gave you one last smile and a little wave before walking out of the gym with Benny. You were left stunned as you stood there, completely drifted away from reality as you were in a dream about Harry. You felt a small nudge on your shoulder, causing you to snap out of your thoughts and dream as you turned around to see your father laughing.

“Get back to work.” A smug plastered on his face.

A breathy chuckle was released from your mouth as a hint of embarrassment emerged onto your face with wide eyes. You got back to work, focusing your attention on training your next client, but your mind was racing at the thought of Harry.

As he promised, Harry paged you when he was outside of your apartment complex. He wanted to knock on your door like the proper gentleman that he is, but the buzzer machine to let people in wasn’t working, so paging you would have to do for now. He waited for you outside of his newly washed car, making sure it was nice and clean for you as he leaned against the passenger door.

You walked out of your building, and Harry was immediately blown away. You were wearing a black skirt with stockings that hugged your legs, and a white knitted sweater since it was on the chillier side.

Every time he saw you, his heart would beat incredibly fast, pulse pounding through his veins. His stomach was in flits of butterflies, soaring in his heart and stomach, making him extremely nervous. Every time he saw you, everything would stop, like you were the only person in the world and everything was okay.

“Hey, H,” you flashed him your smile, one that he looked forward to every time he saw you.

“H-Hi,” he stuttered, clearing his throat to start over. “Hi. You look really nice.”

You blushed. “Thank you! You look great as well. Love this top.” You reached forward, lightly tugging at his red-orange knitted long-sleeve. He paired it with blue jeans that flared at the bottom with white sneakers. His fingers were covered in beautiful silver rings, making his hands look quite gorgeous.

“Thank you, shall we?”

“Yeah, oh, I got you something.” You reached into your bag to take out the cased CD, and before Harry was about to protest, you handed it to him. “I made you this mixtape. Just some songs that I think you’ll like—I’m sure you know all of them, but they just made me think of you,” you said shyly.

You weren’t normally shy and you would call yourself a pretty strong and confident person, but you had been so nervous to give this to him—even making the tape left you anxious and shaking.

“Wow, this is…very thoughtful of you. Thank you so much.” Harry looked at the CD with the songs written in your handwriting. There were 10 songs, and Harry knew all of them. They were all…romantic songs.

“That’s not weird, right? Y’know, making you a mixtape?” You asked unsurely. The odd feeling had popped into your mind at the last second as you watched Harry observe the CD, not giving a bad nor good reaction to your gift.

“No, not at all! I really appreciate this. No one has ever made a mixtape for me before, so this is really nice and special. Thank you again.” He reached forward, wrapping one arm around your shoulders as both of your arms found their way around his waist. You somewhat weren’t convinced that he liked it, and he could tell just by how you were looking at him--looking for some more reassurance--that it seemed like he didn’t like it. When he pulled away, he looked at you before saying, “Really, it makes me happy that you took the time to make this for me. It’s so sweet and thoughtful of you, and I already love all the songs on here, so I’m one-hundred-percent going to enjoy this.”

You nodded, smiling softly as he opened the door for you and you thanked him, blushing as you got in. It seemed very much like a date and you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of that.

Harry drove to the sandwich shop that waited for you both. It was twenty minutes away on the other side of the town, but Harry had been raving about it so much to you that you told him that you two should go, which Harry was more than happy to take you.

The sound of Boyz II Men filled the speakers of Harry’s car as the two of you sang your hearts out to ‘On Bended Knees,’ putting full emotion and passion into singing. You held up your water bottle, pretending that it was a microphone, and Harry kept shifting his gaze on you, trying to keep his eyes on the road, but also wanting to look at you as you sang. He smiled to himself, absolutely loving how you were so carefree--something that he admired about you.

His heart fluttered, curling his lips into his mouth before he did something that was quite bold of him to do. Reaching over, he grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers together. Your body was frozen, but you continued to sing, covering up the fact that Harry was holding your hand so casually. You were stiff as a board, so you tried loosening up, swaying your body from side to side, slightly averting your eyes towards him as he continued to drive.

The moonlight cast through the car window, giving him a dim glow, accentuating his features; jawline prominent, his lashes shadowed down onto his cheeks, and his eyes were calm; the light reflecting against his glassy green eyes. Your heartbeat a million miles a minute as you looked at him. You had this appreciation and admiration for him--that you were lucky and grateful that you have him and that there was nothing more beautiful than the man sitting beside you.

With your face on fire, you smiled as you carried on, singing with the warmth of Harry’s hand connected with yours.

You were sitting across Harry, munching on your sandwich as you listened to him talk about how he wanted to actually find a job. He’s been sitting around, living quite wealthy as his inheritance sat safely. But he’d been getting bored. Every day was a routine for him and it was a pretty boring routine, he would say. The only places he really went to were the gym and the places that the two of you went together, but that was it. He needed a hobby, something that he could escape to that doesn’t require breaking a sweat from punching bags and mitts.

“You said you like books, so maybe you could see if the bookstore down the street from the gym is hiring. That would be a nice little place to work at,” you suggested.

Harry’s eyes lightened up, apart from thinking that was a great idea and the other part from being surprised that you remembered such a small detail about him when he’d talked about books briefly with you.

“I should definitely do that, thank you. I love that bookstore, it’s-”

“Y/N?” Harry was interrupted by a man who had walked over to your table. Harry looked up, observing the guy as he was looking at you so intently. He quickly looked at you as you were looking up at the man with a shocked expression on your face, wide eyes and mouth slightly opened.

“Uh, hi,” you said, feeling slightly uncomfortable. Your eyes glanced at Harry and he had a worried expression on his face, eyes asking if you were okay. You nodded softly, bringing your attention back to him.

“I-I’ve been calling the gym and paging you, but you haven’t been answering any of them…” the man mentioned slyly. You were quite speechless, not expecting him to be here and not knowing what to say.

“I, uh-”

“Can we talk right now?” He asked. You were flickering your eyes between Harry, someone that you were completely infatuated with, and the man that you were completely irritated with. But if you didn’t talk to him right now, he wouldn’t leave you alone and wouldn’t stop calling you, so you made the mistake of saying a soft ‘okay’ as you got up, looking over at Harry, giving a subtle smile.

Just by the way he was looking at you, you knew you had regretted your decision and you wished that you hadn’t given in so easily.

Once you were outside, you crossed your arms, in a way to seem reserved and closed off, but in reality, you really were. The uncomfortableness you felt was something you haven’t felt in a while as it felt like your stomach was boiling as bile salivated your mouth. Your fists were hidden underneath your arms, clenching, and your lips were curled into your mouth to immediately spew inappropriate sayings and vile remarks.

“What do you want to talk about?” You asked, brows pinched together.

“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for quite a while now, but I just wanted to talk. I hate how we ended things…” he said remorsefully. You tried not to fall for the pouty look he was giving you as if he knew quite well you would fall for it.

“It’s been six months, Max,” you reminded him. You and Max had an ugly breakup, and you had been picking up your own pieces yourself. You two had been together for nearly a year until he started to act differently. Noticing that he was going home late, staying at the bars until the early hours of the morning, and being quite rude and dismissive towards you, it ended in a screaming match where he ended up spitting out rude comments at you--calling you ugly, useless, and boring. It also caused him to confess that he was cheating on you for half the time you were together with him, and you thought that was a lie he made up just to make you angry, but a month after the breakup, you had found out that was true because you had accidentally bumped into the girl he was cheating on you with. At the time, you couldn’t blame him because the girl was absolutely gorgeous and seemed a lot of fun, but now, you know your worth and you absolutely didn’t deserve that whatsoever.

For six months, you hadn’t seen him, but he had been leaving you countless calls to the gym phone. However, Max wouldn’t dare to step foot in the gym ever again because Don had clearly threatened him when he saw Max on the street, pinning him up against the brick wall by his shirt and yelling in his face that if he ever came close to you or the gym ever again, he wouldn’t see the end of the day.

Don would’ve lost his shit if he saw Max in front of you.

“This is pointless. I was fine living my life for the past six months without you. In fact, I haven’t even thought about you until you showed up. Couldn’t you see I was doing just fine? Why can’t you just leave me alone?” Your tone was scornful, not wanting to be in front of him anymore but instead the lovely man inside.

“I just assumed you wanted some sort of closure…”

“If I wanted closure, then I would’ve called you. But I don’t need closure. I was doing okay-”

“With who? That man inside the restaurant?” He interrupted, brows raised. His demeanour suddenly changed just because you had given him the slightest bit of attitude. Max went from soft, wanting forgiveness to the Max that you saw last--completely offensive, rude, and a dickhead.

“Yeah, his name is Harry, by the way. I was doing okay until you showed up!” You rolled your eyes, making your way back inside to Harry, who was waiting for you inside.

Of course, Max wasn’t done until he got the last word, so he yelled out, “You know, whatever you’re doing with him, he’s gonna leave you; just like how I left you.” You slowly turned around, heart aching as his words had definitely done something this time. “You think Harry cares about you Y/N? Think again, he’s gonna leave you and you’re gonna be alone. You’re nothing, Y/N--not without me, at least. You aren’t worth anything, and you had to take over your dad’s gym to feel like you are. Stop fooling yourself.”

Your eyes watered, trying your hardest not to let them slip from your eyes. You had already felt weak tearing up in front of him, so you couldn’t imagine what he would think if you bawled your eyes out. Suddenly, you heard the bell above the restaurant door chime. You didn’t bother turning around, but you somehow knew that it was Harry who was behind you.

“Everything alright here?” Harry asked warily, eyes pointed towards you.

“Yeah, man. See you, Y/N.” With that, he walked away, hopefully for good. Harry knew everything wasn’t alright with how you’re ready to burst into tears. As much as he wanted to follow him, force an answer out of him as to why you were in such distress, he was more worried about you.

Standing in front of you, Harry placed an arm on your shoulder, his other hand held the brown paper bag that had both of your leftovers as he didn’t want to eat without you. Your body was tense, not because of Harry’s touch but because of the words that had taken such an effect on you, and you were doing everything to not break down in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Hey, you okay?” Harry asked softly, bending down slightly to look you in the eyes. Your eyes were pointed down at the ground, thinking that if you looked Harry in the eyes, you were going to break.

“Uh, c-can you take me to the gym, please?” You asked once you fully gained the courage to speak, but your voice was shaky.

Harry immediately nodded. “Yeah, yeah, of course. Let’s go.” He put his arm around your shoulders and you comfortably nuzzled into his side as he guided you to his car.

The drive back was silent—the complete opposite from the drive to the restaurant. Instead of happiness radiating out of your bodies, the space felt gloomy. Harry’s mind had spiraled as he drove, thinking about what that man could have possibly said to you. He was torn between wanting to be angry, but he was more concerned for you because you had never been this silent before.

Once Harry was in front of the gym, you immediately got out before he was able to turn off the car. Using your keys, you unlocked the front door, turning off the alarm system before throwing your purse, not caring where it landed and rushed towards the heavy bags.

This was where you let all your anger out. The place where you screamed at the top of your lungs with no care on who might hear you. This was your safe space, and if someone was going to judge you for utilizing your safe space, then they didn’t belong there.

You screamed, punched, and kicked the heavy bag with full force as your tears had streamed down your face. Your heart was beating painfully with every scream you forced out of your body. Your punches were solid, making the bag swing back and forth, but your knuckles were starting to redden because you didn’t wrap your hands.

Harry quickly followed you, a frown plastered on his face as he watched you let your anger out all on the heavy bag. He let you do your thing, watching from the sidelines before he waited for the right moment to cut in.

“You. Fucking. Stupid. Piece. Of. Shit,” you yelled out with every punch. You sniffled, continuing to punch the bag, eyes glossy from your endless amount of tears.

The friction from the leather and your bare skin was rubbing against each other, cutting and peeling open your skin. Your hands had numbed the pain, so you carried on with your punches until Harry had wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest and away from the heavy bag once he started to see redness and blood scattered onto your knuckles. You screamed, your body protesting, wanting to continue punching, but you knew you didn’t have any more energy.

Turning around in his arms, your face was met with his chest, sobbing into his shirt. Harry’s hands soothed your back, comforting you as his heart ached from the sadness you radiated. Your bloody hands clutched his shirt as you cried, tears staining his shirt. Your whines and whimpers filled the empty gym, echoing back at you.

Everything hurt—your heart, eyes, body, and your hands were now starting to sting. Harry held you tighter, carefully taking a seat onto the ground and bringing you down with him. You sat in between his legs and your head rested on his shoulder.

After a moment, he felt you calm down and your body physically relaxed. Mindlessly, his hand brushed your hair back from your forehead, pressing a kiss to your skin. Harry hadn’t realized he did that until he pulled away and he hoped he hadn’t crossed a line by doing that. But when he kissed your forehead, you pulled him closer, burying your face into his neck.

“Talk to me—tell me what you need, angel,” he said softly, wanting to help and be there for you. The nickname had completely slipped out as he’d been calling you that in his head. He’d never seen you break down at all, so this was very new to him.

You shook your head, nickname going over your head. “Nothing. Just you.”

Harry nodded his head, heart fluttering at your words as he held you tighter. He continued to soothe your hair and back as he heard you sigh deeply at the comfort. Looking down at your hands, he realized they were still bloody and cut up, and he knew that your cuts needed to be treated as soon as possible.

“Can I take care of your hands? I’m still gonna be close, just wanna bandage you up.” You sniffled, nodding your head. Harry slightly smiled, carefully getting up before helping you up. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, first asking you where the first aid kit was, and you two walked to one of the offices to get the kit before going to the restroom. “Wanna sit?” He asked, patting the cold counter. Nodding your head, you placed your hands on the counter, but he quickly stopped you, taking off his jacket for you to sit on.

“Thank you,” you softly said to him gratefully before jumping to sit on the counter.

Harry opened the box that contained multiple and different types of bandages, an instant cold pack, thermometer, antiseptic wipes, and scissors. Harry washed his hands well before grabbing the antiseptic wipe and ripping it open. He situated himself between your legs, gently grabbing your hand to rest on his. He looked up at you, first asking you if it was okay to start, and when you said yes, he slowly and carefully started to wipe the area around the cut.

You watched him as he cleaned your cuts; he was so focused on wiping the blood that stained your skin and was careful not to press too hard because you were starting to bruise already. As you watched him, you felt immensely grateful. It’d been a while since you had a true friend that would help you with anything and take care of you. Your feelings for him had skyrocketed, heart pounding so loud you could feel it in your ears.

“The guy at the restaurant was my ex-boyfriend, Max,” you suddenly said. Harry looked up at you to let you know that he was listening as he continued to clean your hands. “It was a bit of a messy breakup; he called me names, insulted me, and confessed that he was cheating on me. When I saw him at the restaurant, that was the first time since the breakup, and it was like I relived that day again.”

“Did he say anything to you?” Harry asked, holding back his anger because he knew the answer, Harry watched through the window the entire time and noticed your posture and demeanor change, causing Harry to quickly pay and rush outside just in case anything happened.

“Y-Yeah.” Your voice croaked. “Said I didn’t amount to anything—that I wasn’t anything without him-”

“That’s bullshit, Y/N-”

“I’m so mad at myself.” Tears were forming in your eyes again as you looked down at your lap. Redness brimmed your eyelids as you sniffled.

“What? Why?” Harry asked confusingly.

You shook your head at yourself. “For years, I’ve been training—learning how to defend myself for when I need it. I was raised to have a strong mindset, to not take shit from anyone because Don told me not to. But when he came around, I didn't say a word, let alone move a muscle. I hate how he made me weak. I hate how I didn’t stand up for myself.” Your voice was shaky and your tears streamed down your face as you paused for a moment. “He told me that you were gonna leave me just like everyone else in my life did,” you added.

Harry was seething, breathing in through his nose as his face hardened. He masked his anger because his priority was to comfort you, so he tried to let go of his anger for a moment.

“Listen to me.” He placed his hands on the outside of your legs, bending down to look you in the eyes. Your glossy eyes looked at him, a small pout on your face. “You’re the strongest person I know, alright, angel?” This time, you heard the pet name loud and clear, making your heart do backflips. “You didn’t let him walk all over you, no, you’re much more mature than him to ever start something. He wanted to see you angry, and frustrated. He wanted to add fuel to the fire, and you didn’t give him the satisfaction. You aren’t weak at all. You’ve got a strong heart, and I’m sure that punch of yours to his nose would damage it for good.”

You breathed out a chuckle at his last statement, nodding, knowing he was right. Harry smiled, dimples showing proudly as he wiped the tears that were falling from your eyes. Giving him a half-smile, you leaned forward, pressing your face against his collarbones. He stood up straight to wrap his arms around your back. You daringly placed a kiss onto the exposed skin that was peeking out from his shirt. Harry’s face warmed up at the touch that was so soft and delicate, yet felt like it was burning through his skin. You pulled away, looking up at him as you thanked him.

Your eyes darted between his eyes and his lips as your face was just inches away from him. His face was delicate and his beauty shined over the darkness of the world. It was as if he didn’t seem real like you couldn’t believe someone so beautiful and breathtaking was standing right in front of you. You studied every curve, movement, and freckle on his face as they all very well defined him, heightening your admiration with every look of his perfections and imperfections.

Harry blushed under your stare, clearing his throat as he felt nervous. He pulled his face away a tad bit, offering you a small smile. “Of course. Always gonna be here for you. Now, let me just finish cleaning your hands before taking you home.”

You nodded, letting him finish with his task. His hands were gentle as he wrapped the bandage around your hand. Your heart was filled with so much admiration and gratitude that you simply wouldn’t know what to do if Harry weren’t there today. The growing feelings had taken over your heart and mind that you were a bit scared, but nonetheless, you let them take over.

Harry sat at the bar next to Benny, nursing a beer he had ordered ten minutes ago. It had been a while since they hung out together, but that was because Benny was trying to get his wife pregnant, so when Marianne calls, they spent their time baby-making. The other reason was that Harry was spending most of his time with you, which he loved every minute of.

“So, a little bird told me that you’ve been going to the gym on Saturdays now,” Benny mentioned, a hint of tease in his tone.

Harry chuckled. “Really? And who told you that?” He asked, taking a sip of his beer.

“Starts with a D and ends with an N,” Benny laughed, giving you the obvious answer.

“Well, I’ve been going in on Saturdays because Don always schedules our training sessions on Saturdays. Nothing else,” he slightly lied. After his first training day with Don, Harry told Don that he wanted to continue training with him because he gets a good workout with him rather than by himself, hitting the heavy bag or speed bag, so Don always scheduled for Saturdays since those were the easiest days.

But other than the training sessions, he also got to see you on Saturdays, which he really enjoyed because sometimes after his workout, you two would grab a bite to eat or plan to hang out later that day. He liked it, he liked you.

“Hmm, interesting. It doesn’t have to do with a particular trainer who also happens to own the gym?” Benny raised his brows.

“Not really into Don, to be honest,” Harry joked, bouncing around Benny’s question. They both laughed, slamming their hand on the bar top.

“Really, though. I’m happy for you. You’ve been in such a happier mood, and that’s all I want—is for you to be happy. She’s doing a great job,” Benny said honestly. Seeing his friend happy after everything he’s been through had lifted a certain weight off of his shoulders, and it seemed like he didn’t need to worry about Harry.

Harry simply nodded, smiling as words weren’t necessary. He always felt like Benny was always concerned about him, and although he appreciated him being worried, he didn’t need to anymore because Harry was finally feeling much happier than he was before.

“There you are.” A voice was suddenly heard next to Harry along with a hand on his shoulder. Harry tensed up, and he hadn’t in a while, but he knew that wasn’t your voice nor was it your touch. Harry turned his head to the side to find Lizette sitting on the stool next to him, giving him a smug smile. He didn’t say anything but look at Benny, and saw his eyes narrow, confused as to why Lizette was here. “I’ve been calling your home and paging you. Why haven’t you been answering me?” She pouted.

Harry knew that pout all too well. She used it to trick you into saying yes to her and getting what she wanted, but Harry was stronger than that now; he knew how to hold his ground.

He hadn’t seen Lizette ever since the week before he joined Don’s Box. With all of his time spent with you, he hadn’t really thought about Lizette, if he’s being honest. You had fully taken every inch and space of his mind that it was maximum capacity, but he still found a way to make space from the invading thoughts of you.

“Just been…busy, Lizette, that’s all,” he said, not giving her his full attention as he looked at his bottle.

“Too busy for me?”

“Yeah, something like that.” He didn’t want to outright be rude to her because naturally, Harry was a kind and thoughtful man, so he kept his harsh thoughts to himself.

She inched closer to Harry, close enough to where her mouth was against his ear as she whispered, “Well, since I so happened to run into you, how about we go back to yours?”

Harry took a deep breath. He felt like he was his old self again—making impulsive and not so thought out decisions that end up fucking him and his emotions over in the future. Being with Lizette was something, and it helped make him feel a little less lonely, even though she immediately left right after she got what she wanted.

But Harry hadn’t felt lonely at the moment and in months. He had his best friend next to him, having a drink, and he had you. He wasn’t lonely at all. So, why was he getting off the stool and putting his coat on before closing his tab for the night?

Benny’s eyes widened, looking at Harry as if he was asking what the actual fuck was he doing. Harry simply shrugged, patting his friend on the back before following Lizette out of the bar. The air was cold, but it wasn’t a delightful cold that he wanted to be in. It almost seemed kind of eerie as the gray clouds hovered over them.

Lizette hugged Harry’s arm. “I’m glad you agreed.” She leaned up to kiss his cheek, but he immediately pulled away, taking his arm out of her hold.

“You should go home,” he told her. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out as she was confused. “Get a ride home. I’m not taking you home nor am I going with you. I don’t want to do this anymore, Lizette.”

“But you came with me-”

“That didn’t mean I was saying yes to your offer. I came out here with you to get you off of me and not embarrass me in front of my friend and the entire bar.” Harry’s voice was stern as he crossed his arms. “I know you’ve never really cared about me, so please just do me a favor and leave. I’m happier now-”

“You’re happier? With some other girl, huh?” Harry nodded and Lizette rolled her eyes, expression annoyed as she was beginning to get angry and defensive. “You think she cares? Guess what, Harry, she doesn’t. She’s gonna leave you just like your mom left you, your ex-girlfriend left you. Remember when she fucked your best friend in college? That she left you to be with him? And look at them now, they’re married! They don’t give a single fuck about you! What makes you think that this girl you’re seeing does?”

Lizette had definitely hit a nerve. Harry had gone four years without hearing the story on how his ex left him for one of his friends from uni. The situation was quite sad, and it left Harry in pieces. Not to mention, Lizette was his ex’s best friend and she somehow seduced him into regularly having sex with her, which wasn’t entirely her fault because Harry was lonely and needed to feel something to fill the void of his loneliness.

“Don’t think you’re so easy to love, Harry. It takes a lot of effort to do that, especially with you. You’re gonna continue being scared and closed off, and people are gonna continue to run away-”

“Harry?” Lizette was suddenly interrupted by you. You were walking to the bar because Benny had invited you, thinking that it would’ve been a nice surprise for Harry and to hang out with just the three of you. But you had seen Harry and some woman on the street and his face looked angry. “Uh, hi.”

You turned towards the unknown woman as she looked you up and down before turning towards Harry, raising her brows as she figured out who you were and who Harry had been spending so much time with.

Harry completely blocked you out, his attention was towards the statements Lizette had made. He had been doing so much better, and all of a sudden the relapse hit him ten times harder, like his accomplishment of being okay with himself completely disappeared.

Was he that hard to love? He knew that he pushed people away, that’s for sure, but he didn’t realize that it was difficult to love him. Harry then thought about the people that had left him because they didn’t love him enough to stay. His ex left him for his friend, it seemed like his mum had forgotten about him, and soon enough, Benny was gonna get tired of him and so were you.

“And you are?” You asked, scowling at the woman in front of you. Lizette smirked, seeing as there was an opportunity right in front of her. She didn’t find you

intimidating whatsoever.

“Oh, guess Harry didn’t tell you, but we’ve been sleeping with each other for years. Friends with benefits, if you will,” Lizette answered with some sass and a snarl to her tone as she watched your expression turn into a hurtful one.

Your face had softened as your eyes welled up with tears, but you didn’t dare let them fall. You looked at Harry and it seemed like he was in his head, but you had no clue he was ‘seeing someone.’ It felt like you had been cheated on, even though going out as friends didn’t mean anything to a fuck buddy. All of the moments you spent with him—the laughs, storytelling, training, and tension-filled moments had connected you both to one another. It made you feel special that you were seeing a side of Harry that no one else had, but you were wrong.

“Guess you’re the new girl he’s seeing?”

“What’s it to you?” Your brows knitted.

Lizette shrugged. “Nothing. Just know that Harry’s difficult and loveless. So, just get out while you can.” She reached over to touch your shoulder, but you quickly stepped back before she could. She was talking as if Harry wasn’t right next to you two, and if this was a ‘women looking out for women’ type of situation, you weren’t going to accept it because she outright just insulted Harry.

You were livid as your eyes turned dark, stepping closer to her. “Stay away from him, or I swear to god-”

“Or what? What are you gonna do?” Lizette challenged, stepping closer. She was slightly taller than you since she wore four-inch leather boots.

“Wanna find out? Next time I see you with him or hear you talk shit about him again, then you’ll find out because I can guarantee you’ll never see the light of day.” You held eye contact with her as she looked at you with such fierce emotion.

“Cute. Harry’s got a little bodyguard,” she scoffed, stepping back. “I should go,” Lizette suddenly said, breaking you out of your heartbreaking thoughts. “I’ll call you,” she told Harry, despite what you had just said. It seemed like he wasn’t even listening as his blank stare was trained onto the ground. She walked away, her heels clicking against the cement. The satisfaction she felt right now felt good, knowing her words had definitely affected you both.

When Lizette was far enough, you turned back towards Harry. This time, he was looking at you in a confused state, and it didn’t seem like him.

“I-I didn’t know you were seeing someone-”

“You should go…” he said straightforwardly. You raised your brows as you were taken back.

“I’m sorry?”

“You should leave. For good. Get out of my life while you can. I promise I won’t get mad.” His voice cracked and was shaky. He couldn’t even look you in the eye while he was talking because he knew that would break his heart even more, especially if you were to actually leave for good. The negative thoughts had taken over, and this was what he did—pushing people away and giving them a way out before they realized that Harry wasn’t a lovable or worthy enough person to stay around for.

“What makes you think I’m going anywhere?” You questioned confusingly. You wondered if he even thought about the conversation you two had a few moments ago when you had told him that you were staying for good.

“They all do, anyway. They all leave and they never come back.” His voice was starting to raise slightly, frustration and anger pouring out of his veins as his eyes were starting to tear up. A pout remained on your face as you watched the distress never leave his angelic face. “Just please go.”

“I’m not going anywhere-”

“Why won’t you-”

“Because I care! Why don’t you get that?” You raised your voice, not too loud to startle him, but enough to convey your emotions and frustrations to him.

“Because you’re going to eventually! You’re gonna leave and use me and never love me. I’m used to it, so you could go now!” Harry was starting to cry, light sobs were coming out of his mouth as he was trying to hold them back. You took a step forward, wanting to comfort him as your heart broke at the sight, but he stepped back, not wanting your touch.

Your heart sank when he stepped back away from you because he had never done that before. You two were always comfortable with one another that both of your touches had felt like security. Your tears had streamed down your face, quickly wiping them.

“Harry, I’m not gonna leave…”

“It’s fine. You don’t know what it’s like for someone to leave and never come back. You don’t know what it’s like to feel completely loveless that someone physically had to get out of your life and not want to be in it anymore. You don’t know what it’s like!” He spoke firmly as he cried, tugging his curly locks in frustration.

“I don’t know what it’s like?” You spoke loudly, and Harry looked up at you. “I know exactly what it’s like because my own mother left me when I was eleven-years-old, and I have no idea why!” You vented, sniffling. “You don’t think I know what it’s like to constantly wonder what you’re doing wrong because the people that were supposed to be there for you completely vanished? Because I do! I know that feeling quite well. So, don’t tell me I don’t know shit because it seems like we’re in the same boat.”

Harry was speechless. Sure, you two had been close and had talked about your lives and childhood, but this was something that you two had to dig deep for because it wasn’t something you regularly spoke about nor did you tell new people that you’d just met.

“I-I’m sorry I had no idea…”

“You couldn’t have had any idea, Harry. But just know that that day my mom left me still confuses me. The look on my dad’s face when he told me that mom left still haunts me. The crying I did since I was eleven hurts me because she didn’t love me enough to stay.”

“Y/N…”

“It’s fine, I get it. I know we’ve known each other for only a few months, but I did not expect this from you, especially because of all that we’d talked about. I’d say I’m the newest person in your life but I’m also the closest, besides Benny. So, don’t shut me out.” Your heart was beating through your chest and all of your emotions began to pile up like they were leaves, falling from the branches of the trees.

Harry looked defeated, knowing that you were right. He sniffled, not knowing what else to say because all he felt was a painful feeling in his chest since Lizette had gone up to him at the bar.

When he didn’t say anything, you just nodded, knowing that it was best to give him some space so he could realize that you were here for him and that you weren’t going anywhere.

“Call me when you wanna talk…” you told him before turning around. Harry watched you—he knew that he should go after you, not be scared and let you in, perhaps tell you that he’s practically in love with you, but he doesn’t move, feet glued to the ground.

When you were only a few feet away, you turned back around, knowing that you hadn’t gotten your final words out yet. Harry looked up when he heard footsteps approaching him.

“Fuck whatever people say to you; trying to degrade and bring you down because whatever they say, it’s not true. I will always be there to defend you, Harry. Don’t think I won’t be because I will always be on your side.” You paused for a moment. Your heart was fully opening and was beginning to be vulnerable. Trying not to let it overwhelm you, you continued. “Don’t think you’re not easy to love because you are. You’re extremely easy to love, y’know that? I would know because…I love you. And that’s crazy to say because we’ve only known each other for a short period of time, but I can’t help what I feel. So, there you go.”

Before Harry was able to say anything, you walked away, and he could hear you sniffling and crying. Harry’s mouth was ajar, completely speechless and shocked, but his heart fluttered as he took in your words. You really loved him, he thought. No one had said those words and really meant them or they hadn’t felt real to him when he heard them, so the shock that he felt was new.

You were far enough where Harry couldn’t see you. He hadn’t even moved an inch, and he knew that later on, he was going to be very disappointed in himself for not chasing you down and telling you that he loved you too. But for now, he needed to take it all in and hope that when he did tell you, it wouldn’t be too late.

Taking a deep breath, you walked inside to your apartment, sniffling as you went straight to the bathroom to take a long and hot shower. Before you left your place to go to the bar, you had been contemplating your appearance because you wanted to look good. Nerves were all over your body as you were getting ready, and you sulked at how the events had completely turned tonight around.

When you were out of the shower and changed, ready to get into bed despite the night only being nine in the evening, your pager beeped. Picking it up off the bedside table, the message was sent from Harry, reading ‘143.’ You raised your brows, reading it again and reading it once more. Your heart was pounding, studying the numbers to make sure you read them right. The simple code for ‘I love you’ was printed on your pager and you wanted to scream.

Before you could actually scream, there was a knock on your door. You walked quickly, opening it as Harry was standing behind it, holding his pager out as he smiled softly at you. You had just finished crying in the shower, so your eyes were red and a tad bit swollen, but you were close to crying again because of how overwhelmed you felt.

“Did you mean it?” You asked hesitantly, holding your pager up.

“Of course I do. Did you mean it?” He retaliated back, wondering if you meant your three words as well.

“Of course I mean it, Harry. Why wouldn’t I?” You asked, wiping the tear that had slipped down your face.

“Because I love you. I love you so fuckin’ much that it hurts,” he claimed in one breath, feeling the tension and weight that he held in his shoulders release. “You’re everything to me, and you make my world less frightening. I just see your pretty smile and my day completely turns into a great one. I don’t wanna waste a day not telling you that now, and it feels pretty damn good to say it.”

You slightly nodded until you remembered one of your concerns earlier. “What about Lizette?”

“Lizette was someone I used to sleep with. I haven’t seen her nor slept with her in months—before I even met you, I promise. And I’m sorry for assuming that you didn’t know what it felt like for someone to leave and that you had to tell me under those circumstances. But just know, that I’m not gonna leave, unless you tell me to, that is.” Every bit of him was opening up and he wasn’t hiding away. He was being completely vulnerable and it had scared him a bit, but when his words came out, he felt himself get better.

You looked at him through your glassy eyes, vision blurred for a moment until you adjusted them and clearly saw the gorgeous man in front of you. His eyes were filled with tears as well, and you thought, how could someone still look so pretty while they cried? But that was Harry for you; someone who was genuinely beautiful no matter what. Someone who had a heart of gold and a flashing smile that made your heart swoon and knees weak.

You simply reached your hand out and Harry walked towards you, into your apartment as he came close to your face as your bodies were pressed up against one another. The back of his fingertips gently brushed the side of your face, admiring the beauty that stood before him as he opened his heart up completely, not wanting to go another day without saying those three words back to you.

The corners of your lips turned up and your tears were replaced by happy ones. You had walked away from Harry after you said I love you because he was looking at you like he had seen a ghost, not a friendly one, but more of a scary one. So, hearing those words were just music to your ears.

“You mean that? That you love me?” You wanted to hear it again and again and again.

“Ever word. I love you, angel,” he repeated, adding your nickname. He pressed his forehead against yours, inches away from your lips.

“Never stop calling me that,” you instructed him, smiling. The first time he had said it, you came to the conclusion that you absolutely loved hearing that name come out of his mouth, especially if it was specifically for you.

“Only if you never stop telling me that you love me,” he slightly smirked, dimples poking out. He was so immensely happy that his heart could burst just because of the love that he felt for you.

You giggled. “I love you, baby-”

“I, uh, wait. Do you mind…not calling me that?” He hesitated, and you raised your brows confused. “Someone else called me that, and I just don’t like hearing it. Never have since it came out of her mouth,” he explained shyly.

A sudden realization came to your face as you realized that Lizette probably called him that. “Okay. I won’t call you that, ever…darling.” Harry’s lips began to slowly turn up, already liking that name so much better than the other one. He hugged you; and you smiled, closing and opening your eyes to make sure you weren’t dreaming. Your arms snaked around Harry’s waist as he cradled your delicate face in his hands.

“Never stop calling me that,” he repeated your words as you two smiled and laughed until your jaws started hurting.

His eyes flickered down to your lips and back up to your eyes. You pursed your lips, blushing as you watched his eyes glance back up and down. You rubbed the tip of your nose against his, pulling him closer; hearts beating in sync as butterflies filled your stomach.

He brushed his lips against yours before fully connecting them, feeling every spark and shiver that traveled down his spine. You smiled into the kiss as the softness of his lips moved and molded against yours, feeling completely in bliss. The way his lips slotted perfectly with yours made you saturated and dizzy off of his love and touch. Butterflies were still in your stomach, but they were calm like they had been fluttering around for this moment, his touch, in order to relax.

Pulling back, he smiled down at you, eyes love-struck, before giving you another kiss, and pulling away and kissing you again once more.

“Kissing you is my new favorite thing,” he stated, drunk off kisses. You breathed out a giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck as you breathed in his scent. You felt his breath against your neck, feeling completely happy and content in each other’s arms.

There was no fear in the air; just the two of you with open hearts and arms, welcoming in the new and profound feeling that you both took in, knowing that it’s going to change everything for the better.

You pulled him inside and Harry kicked the door closed with his foot. His arms were holding you tight as you walked back to your bedroom. Opening your mouth slightly, Harry took the chance to meet your tongue with his, swiveling and tasting each other causing a shiver to run down your spine.

You pulled back when Harry laid down on the bed, taking in the gushy feeling you had as you smiled.

“Want you,” you simply stated.

“You have me, angel.”

“I know, but I want you. Need you,” your eyes pleaded for his touch, to feel him inside of you, for him to make you feel good. You desperately craved for his hands on all of you, his mouth kissing every inch of your skin, and his love passionately pouring out of his veins.

Harry nodded, smiling. “Need you too. Need you forever,” he said, connecting your lips again as he hovered over you.

You two kissed for a while, giggling against each other’s lips and having his weight on top of you as your hands roamed his back. You bucked your hips into his, feeling the hard-on that was growing in his pants, which made Harry grind into your center, moaning softly into your mouth.

“Please do something,” you said, and he nodded, getting off of you before taking his jacket and shirt off swiftly. His tattoos were showcased in front of you and all you wanted to do was kiss every single one of them. “You’re beautiful, Harry,” you complimented, and he blushed, a soft ‘thank you’ came out of his mouth. Next was his pants, and before he was able to take his briefs off, you stopped him, telling him that you wanted to do it.

You got off the bed, switching positions with him as you were now standing up as Harry laid down on the bed. You smiled, eyes glancing all around his body. He suddenly felt shy and intimidated under your stare, but he knew he had no reason to be because you were simply admiring him. This time around when it came to physically be vulnerable with someone, he knew he didn’t have to worry anymore when it came to you.

You took off your lilac nightgown, exposing your body to Harry’s eyes. Your nipples had hardened due to the exposure to the cold. His eyes glimmered as he gazed at your stunning and beautiful body. Every curve and inch was something he tried to remember, and he was quite speechless at the sight. He reached out, gently grabbing your hips as he roamed his hands up your body and to your breasts, grabbing both in each of his hands.

He looked up at you and you smiled down at him as he placed his mouth on your left pebbled nipple, sucking and licking it as his hand fondled with the other. You laced your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp as he did so, switching over to your right nipple.

Harry pulled away, looking at you. “You’re an actual angel. You’re so beautiful.”

“Harry…” you blushed.

“You are, angel. So beautiful. Can’t believe I get to see you like this.” He kissed the valley of your breasts and down your stomach before getting up and pushing you down onto the bed with ease. He settled in between your legs, arms hooked under your thighs.

Continuing kissing down your stomach, he reached the hem of your underwear, looking up at you before asking, “Can I take these off? Wanna make you feel good—the same way you always make me feel good.”

“Please. Take them off. Wanna feel your mouth on me,” you pleaded as your arousal heightened. You wrapped your legs around his back, eagerly pulling his head towards your center, making Harry let out a chuckle.

“Easy, angel. Not going anywhere.” Harry kissed your stomach once more before pulling off your beige underwear. You were glistening below him; you made a complete mess in your panties. “Fuck, you’re so wet. This all for me?”

“Mhm. All for you, Harry, please,” you whispered impatiently. Harry’s dirty talk had only increased your need for him as it was quite surprising to see this side of him since he was more on the shy and reserved side outside, but nonetheless, you loved both sides—you loved him.

Harry leaned down, pressing multiple kisses to your inner thighs, nibbling on the skin gently. You bucked your hips as he trailed his kisses towards your pussy that was eagerly waiting to be touched and licked. When he got there, he pressed a kiss to your clit before kitten-licking your sensitive button, making you softly moan.

His tongue licked into the entrance of your pussy, gathering your arousal on the tip of his tongue to lubricate your clit even more.

“Fuck,” you groaned as your hands found his curly locks, tugging at them gently.

“You could do that harder, I don’t mind it,” Harry told you before going back to eating you out. You pulled harder and Harry deeply groaned against you, sending vibrations up your body.

His hands wandered around your body, feeling the softness of your skin against his hands. Your skin had formed goosebumps due to his touch, and Harry smoothed out your skin so you were warm. He sucked on your clit quite harshly, earning a moan of his name from your lips as he grabbed both of your tits in his hands, squeezing them.

You placed your hands on top of his, squeezing them with him, and Harry almost came at the sight of that. There you were, moaning his name out, getting your pussy eaten, and squeezing your tits on top of his hands. A sight he truly was lucky enough to see.

Harry pulled one hand away to rub your clit as he tongued around your wet hole before tongue fucking you. He rubbed your clit at a moderate speed, enough for you to thrust your hips off the bed. Harry pulled his other hand that was still on one of your breasts away to pin your hips down onto the bed.

“Stay still for me, angel,” he instructed, voice deep that made you even wetter. “You taste so good. Could eat you out all day.”

“Harry…” you trailed, whining desperately for your release. “W-Wanna…cum…need to.” Your sentences were broken and Harry thought that was a good sign, knowing that he was doing so well you couldn’t form a proper sentence.

“Tell me what you need. Let me know, so I can get you there.”

“F-Fingers,” you told him, and he immediately brought his fingers to your clit, rubbing it before inserting two fingers inside your pussy. He thrust slowly, curling his fingers up to feel your walls.

He felt you pulsing around him as your legs were wrapped tightly around his back as you screamed his name over and over again.

“C’mon, love. Give me one,” he encouraged, thrusting his fingers a bit faster.

Once he hit the spot over and over again, you saw stars. Your vision had gone white for a few seconds, and you felt dizzy. The pleasure that ran through your body was overwhelming in the best way possible and you choked out a few sobs. It had hit you like a brick that you saw coming, but you were still surprised and shocked by the impact.

Your hands held Harry’s hair tight that he thought for a moment that you might actually rip it off. Harry rubbed your pussy as you came down from your high, licking your orgasm that was seeping through your cunt, taking every drop of it. He looked up to see your head thrown back, chest heaving, and a vein that was bulging against your skin. He kissed your thighs while his other hand trailed across your body.

When you finally were able to catch your breath, Harry kissed up your body, leaving the softest and loving kisses to your skin as you were quite sensitive. You grabbed his face, bringing his lips to yours as you immediately stuck your tongue in his mouth, swirling it with his to taste yourself on him—a mixture of his taste and your orgasm all on his tongue had made you wetter.

Harry was grinding himself against your leg, trying to relieve some pressure.

“Want you,” you told him once he pulled away, looking at him intently.

“You sure?”

“Absolutely. Please? Only if you want to-”

“I definitely want to. Just wanna make sure you were sure,” he breathed out a chuckle.

“Course I want to.” There was a bit of silence between you two as you were simply just admiring him as he hovered over you. “Are you gonna fuck me, Harry?” You broke the silence, and Harry broke out of his trance, shyly giggling before getting off the bed.

He peeled away his briefs, cock standing straight up from the slight painful restraint. He was big—girth and length wise, and you felt your mouth salivating from just looking at him. He got back on the bed, in between your legs as he sat on his knees. Spitting on his hand, he grabbed a hold of his dick, stroking it to relieve the pressure. The view was beautiful in every single way possible, and you didn’t dare to bat an eye because you didn’t want to miss one second of it.

Wanting to take over for him, you reached forward, replacing his hand with yours as you slowly stroked his cock for him. Harry had a smug smile on his face but soon changed into a face of pure pleasure as your hand worked against him. His mouth was open as he let out a soft moan, looking down at your eyes as you were looking up, completely loving his reaction to your touch.

“You’re so pretty, Harry,” you complimented as you continued to touch him. Your other hand reached forward to fondle with his balls, rolling them into your hand as Harry whimpered. “Love seeing you like this. Most gorgeous man I’ve seen in my life.”

“Please, angel, you’re being too nice…” he managed to groan out, hands gripping your thighs.

“But it’s true. Look so pretty when you’re like this, but also when you’re hitting the heavy bags. When we go out to eat and you mindlessly drink your entire drink while waiting for the food. But I think you’ll look extra pretty than you already are if you cum.” Your words of declaration were getting him on the edge as you stroke him. The way your voice slightly changed as you looked up at him with the most innocent eyes made him thrust into your hand, gripping the flesh of your skin as he threw his head back.

“You think so?”

“Mhm. Gonna be so pretty when you cum all over my body, my tits. Can you do that? For me, can you do that? Please?” You were completely begging for it, but even with all the begging, he knew that you had all the control right now.

Your feet rubbed his calves up and down, and it was the simplest touch, but it heightened Harry’s need to let go.

“Wanna cum for you, yeah.” His breaths were heavy and harsh as your touch was focused on his tip, wrapping your delicate hands around the head where he was most sensitive.

Harry’s moans stuttered as a series of profanities slipped from his lips, spilling onto your stomach and breasts. You smiled to yourself as you studied his face when he came undone; his mouth was open, occasionally biting his lip, and eyes shut closed as his head was thrown back—he was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen, and the fact that you got to see him like this was an honor.

When he came down from his high, he slowly opened his eyes, meeting yours, staring right at him. You smirked, body covered in his orgasm, and he thought that was a picture worth taking. You were gorgeous covered in his pleasure that you caused, and you seemed to love it too since you made no effort to wipe it off.

Boldly, he leaned down, dragging his tongue from your stomach to your tit, spending the most time on your breasts as he nibbled and licked your nipples, collecting his orgasm from your skin and held it on the tip of his tongue until he reached your mouth. You willingly opened your mouth as his tongue delved right in, feeding you his cum.

You two passionately kissed, tasting him ever so sensually. You moaned into his mouth, thinking about how the sight of Harry licking his orgasm off of your body was the sexiest thing you’d ever seen. With your hips jerking up, you felt yourself getting wet again and in need to release once more.

You whimpered, pulling away. “Please. Need you so bad.” Harry nodded, agreeing.

“Condom?” He asked, and you immediately reached over to your bedside table, ripping open the condom before rolling it onto his dick that was still hard.

Harry curled in his lips, watching you. You gave him a few extra strokes for good measure, earning a soft moan from his mouth. He took his length in his hand, running the tip up and down your slit, collecting your arousal and lubricating his cock. He gave you one last look and you nodded before he slowly pushed in, indulging in your wetness and softness.

A moan came out of both of your mouths, feeling completely full and warm for one another with the stretch Harry had on you. He planted his elbows on both sides of you, holding himself up over you as he slowly began to thrust.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Feel so good for me.” He placed a kiss on your lips as he whispered. He found a rhythm as he started to move faster, rocking his hips against yours, making you moan.

It was a feeling like no other, and it was the amount of love you two had for one another that made this experience much more special. Love was practically oozing out of both of your veins, filling the room to its maximum capacity as the both of you moaned out in pleasure.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms looped around his back, hugging him closer to you as if he couldn’t get closer. You whined into his ear, the sounds of your pleasure were music to his eyes, sending a shiver down his body, making him jerk. But that jolt had hit your g-spot, and you screamed out in ecstasy.

“Right there. Keep doing that. Keep fucking me,” you managed to say. Harry maintained his pace, going deeper, and fucking you into oblivion as you kept crying and screaming his name out.

Harry’s lips attached to your neck, nibbling and licking your skin, leaving a few decent size love bites that he was sure to admire when they’d fully formed. Your nails had raked down his back, leaving a burning but pleasurable sting down his skin, letting him know that he was doing an amazing job.

“You like that?” He groaned into your ear, leaving chills rising onto your skin.

“Mhm. Just like that. Don’t stop. I-I’m so close.” You threw your head back into the pillows, and Harry took the opportunity to attack your exposed neck with kisses again. Your hands found Harry’s hair, tugging at his curls as he kissed you. That encouraged him to fuck you harder and faster, repeatedly hitting your special spot. “O-Oh…”

“Come on, angel love. Cum for me, please. Wanna see you make a mess around me,” he encouraged you.

With a few more thrusts, you were done. You had fully and completely released around him as your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks. Your vision had gone white for a few seconds, head dizzy, and your breaths were caught in your throat as your hips involuntarily jolted, meeting his thrusts that were fucking you through your high.

Harry started to thrust sloppily, burying his face in your neck as he spilled into the condom. His hot breath was against your skin as he started to slow down, coming down from his orgasm.

The room was silent as the only sounds present were the heavy breaths and the post-orgasmic whimpers coming from your mouth as you two held one another. Your nails gently scratched down his back, contrasting to the desperate and needy scratches that you had given him just a few minutes ago.

Harry lifted his head up, meeting your eyes before connecting his lips against yours, tongue meeting first before your lips moved in sync so passionately and lovingly that you both unspokenly agreed to never taste another pair of lips again.

“I love you so much,” Harry said, resting his chin on your chest.

You smiled down at him, eyes gleaming as you looked at your love, your entire heart, the man that had stolen your breath and heart just by one look.

“And I love you too.”

Waking up to the warmth of the body next to you was your favorite thing in the morning—had been for six months now. The sight next to you was something you wouldn’t get used to as you always found yourself feeling so lucky every single time you woke up next to him.

But a pout formed onto your face when you saw that the space next to you was empty. The crinkled yellow sheets were left, missing a certain person that you had been excited to see this morning since you closed your eyes the night prior.

Turning over to your bedside table, you grabbed your pager, seeing if you had any messages, and one specifically stood out to you, making you sleepily smile at your pager.

“Goodmorning, angel,” Harry greeted as he stood in the doorway of your bedroom. He was wearing a gray sweatsuit, holding a white paper bag in one hand and a smoothie tray, that held two smoothies, in the other hand with a loving smile plastered on his face, making his dimples poke out.

“Mm. Hi, darling.” Your arms reached forward, gesturing him to come to you, and he gladly did, situating himself on your body as you wrapped your arms around him.

You two stayed like that for a moment, basking in the presence and gratitude of one another. It was nice until your stomach started growling, making Harry chuckle.

“C’mon, gotta feed my girl before we head to the gym.” He got off of you, helping you up and out of the bed before helping you make the bed. He walked over to the kitchen before you went to the restroom, and when you walked out, Harry had your breakfast set on a plate.

You two made light conversation, mostly enjoying the silence and tastiness of the food before you got ready to go to the gym.

When you walked into Don’s Box, you were immediately greeted by a few of the members, giving you high fives, as well as saying hi to Harry. The entire gym had found out you two were together when they started to notice Harry coming into the gym almost every day and staying until the gym closed, so a few people had their speculations. Don was certain you two would get together from the very beginning, and he had told you that the only reason he was trying to act intimidating when Harry first walked in was that he sensed that something would happen, and he was right, something did happen.

Benny was ecstatic; jokingly telling Harry that he could now spend time with his wife since you had taken all of Harry’s time now, which Benny earned a push from Harry towards the ropes of the ring. Benny’s wife was also pregnant and wanted Harry to be the godfather, which Harry immediately took on that responsibility and role. But that also meant since you and Harry were planning on staying together for the long run, you were becoming a godmother as well, which you were very excited about.

You climbed up into the ring as Harry followed. You had a day off, and no one needed your attention other than Harry, so you helped him put on his gloves after you wrapped his hands in tape, and you put on your mitts, making sure they were tight before clapping the mitts together—Harry punched his gloves together, making sure they were comfortable.

You raised your brows at him teasingly. “Ready, darling?”

“Ready as always, my angel,” he responded, and you smirked.

“Give me a good one. Give me 1.”

talk to me about your favorite moments, your thoughts and feelings about this pls! thank you for reading <3

#timetravelathon #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #boyfriend!harry #boxer!harry #harry styles solo #harry #harry styles #harry styles story

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y0ung-4ever · 3 years ago

Text

Different

Pairing: Johnny Depp x reader

Description: You are a piano instructor in the city of LA, the day was slow but then he showed up.

Warnings: -

Rating: -

Notes: I think I wrote this well, but I also wish I had more ideas for more romance with this one.

I was cleaning the grand piano that sat in the middle of the spacious, open room. The sunlight came through the window as I swept the dust off the keys that weren’t used as much.

“Hello, I was wondering if you were still doing lessons?”

The deep voice brought me out of my daze. I snapped my head up and looked at the man standing in the doorway. He stood tall with black shoes, navy blue dress pants and a white button up that brought out his tanned skin as he undone two of the buttons around his collar. His hair was a bit longer and he had on glasses.

“Oh! Yes I am! Um, I’m y/n!”

I went closer to him and stuck out my hand. He looked at me and smiled as he shook it.

“I’m Johnny.”

We just stayed like that for a while. His hand grasping mine and mine his. Looking into each other's eyes and the smiles we had still on our faces.

“A-anyway..when would you like to start, Johnny?”

He shook his head and fixed his hair.

“Um, right now would be a better time than ever!”

He walked over to the piano and admired the glossiness of the wood in the sunlight.

“Great! So first of all I have to ask- can you read sheet music?”

He looked up at me and smiled.

“I can! That’s a good thing right?”

I giggled and shook my head.

“That is good, because, Johnny, we can start playing right away! Now if you would take a seat on the bench..”

He complied with my request and he already had a nice posture.

“I can see that your posture is already really good, and that’s important when playing an instrument like the piano. So, now that I have you seated, I want you to play your right hand at middle c.”

He looked up at me confused. I laughed and took his hand.

“Right here. This is the key that everything revolves around. It’s important to know where it is. And that key will be played by your thumb as your other fingers have their own key.”

He pressed his thumb down and repeated it.

“Do you want to play classical music? Or do you have your own piece that you prefer to learn first?”

He thought for a moment and rested his hands on his thighs.

“I want to play classical music, but I want to play ‘The Maiden's Prayer’.”

I smiled and got all excited. ‘The Maiden’s Prayer’ was absolutely one of my favorite pieces.

“Ah, you have good taste! I would be honored to teach you such an elegant piece.”

I dug around in the room to find the sheet music for the song, but all I could find was Beethoven and Mozart sheet music.

“Aish, I told them to put their sheet music back in the right order. I already organized these once..”

I felt a tap on my shoulder and I swung around to be met with big brown eyes.

“H-Hi, Johnny..I’m sorry it will only be a few minutes. My other colleagues must have mixed it in with their sheet music.”

I stepped to the side and ran past him to the other side of the room. I looked on the shelf and I couldn’t find it anywhere. I normally have the music alphabetically organized, but I couldn’t find ‘The Maiden’s Prayer’ under the T’s.

“Hey, y/n- it’s okay! I can choose a different song to play. It’s no big deal.”

I stood away from him but I could sense the disappointment. I looked at him and frowned.

“No, Johnny, I’m going to teach you this song and nothing is going to stop us from succeeding!”

An hour later..

*Dun- Dun- Dun——-DUN*

“Ah- okay okay, so maybe you just aren’t finding a comfortable way to move your hand without your other fingers hitting keys that aren’t right. I mean you have pretty big hands compared to me, but I guess you just don’t have the strength to only use a select few of your fingers at a time..”

I took Johnny’s hand and massaged it to get him to loosen up. I sat on the bench with him as I did so.

“So, y/n! Are you from California?”

“Eh, no. I’m from h/s. But I’ve been here most of my life..so it’s like I’m from here. What about you?”

I switched hands now. He stretched out his right hand from the massage.

“Nope, I’m from Kentucky. Born and raised.”

I giggled and continued loosening his joints.

“How old are you if you don’t mind me asking? And what made you want to work as a piano teacher?”

I smiled and looked into his eyes.

“I’m 25. I started working here when I graduated university. When I was a teenager I was obsessed with playing the piano and I loved teaching my cousins and friends how to play. Of course none of them got very far..but I enjoyed it while it lasted. So I decided, what better job than to be a piano instructor!”

He laughed and looked over at the black and white keys.

“What do you do?”

He turned his head and looked back at me.

“I’m an actor. I’m surprised you haven’t recognized me by now, I am pretty big in the acting industry.”

He fixed his collar and ran a hand through his hair.

I laughed and nodded my head.

“I kinda thought you were familiar, but I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

He looked at me with sympathy.

“Well, that’s very kind of you Ms. Y/n.”

I smiled at him and got up from the bench. I touched Johnny’s shoulders and forced them to face the piano.

“I’m going to show you a few exercises that you can practice while I search for that sheet music. These exercises will help you earn more muscle in your fingers and dexterity in your left hand as well as your right. Do you play any other instruments?”

He sat up straight and looked up and over at me as I asked the question.

“Yes, I actually do. I usually play guitar, though.”

He looked down at the tiny scars on his fingertips, probably from the guitar strings.

“Oh, that’s good! So it will be pretty easy for you to build up dexterity, since you probably have strong muscles in your hands already from playing guitar. But I would rather you do both exercises because your hands still need to learn the keys and the distance between them. Your hands will feel tired and stretched, but that’s what we want!”

He nodded and turned back towards the keys.

I slowly introduced him to two of my favorite exercises that mainly specialized in helping muscle build and dexterity. After he got the hang of both of them I finally started to look around for ‘The Maiden’s Prayer’.

“You are doing great, Johnny! One of the easiest students I’ve had!”

He smiled and continued to practice the keys I told him to press.

I stood up from looking in the lower shelves of the bookcase that stretched from the floor to the ceiling and caught a glance of outside through the window.

“Oh my, it’s that time already?”

Johnny abruptly stopped and looked my way.

“Oh wow, time really does pass when you are having fun!”

I giggled and walked over to Johnny.

“It was so nice to meet you, Johnny. I hope that you will be consistent with your lessons.”

I smiled and winked.

He smiled back and reached his hand out. He brushed back my stray hair and let his hand linger on my cheek for a few seconds.

“The pleasure was all mine, really, Ms. Y/n. Thank you for being so considerate and passionate.”

I felt as if my legs were going to buckle beneath me.

“O-of course! Come back soon, please”

He handed me a card and pushed his glasses up on his nose.

“My number is on there, you know, in case there’s a mishap. Or since it’s you, call me anytime.”

I blushed and held his card with my hands. Treasuring it.

“I’ll see you soon, Ms. Y/n.”

“I hope to see you soon, as well, Johnny.”

He couldn’t help himself and closed the gap between us. He had his arms wrapped around me as I too had my arms wrapped around him. His words would sound muffled and incoherent to most, but to me, they were as clear as the sky was blue.

“Thank you. For being different.”

#johnny depp #johnny depp x reader #johnny depp imagine #depp #johnny

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anika-ann · 4 years ago

Text

Just a Human (S.R.)

Type: mini-series turned one-shot, SHIELD recruit!reader

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 8750

Summary: Being a SHIELD recruit was a dream come true, especially with people like Sergeant Barnes or Captain Rogers offering an input to your class’ training.

It was also hard work for many different reasons. One of them being all those guys around; not all of them were exactly fit to become heroes, simply because they were not good people.

Maybe you shouldn’t have pointed it out so openly though. Then again, what would the world turn into if you kept your mouth shut when feeling like speaking up?

WARNINGS: so-so graphic description of assault almost turned sexual, violence and a bit of blood, boys being boys in a real bad way, language

A/N: Steve Rogers vs assholes, round 2. Also, ‘you’ vs. assholes. And Bucky in the mix.

A/N: This was originally posted as a miniseries on AO3, but now edited, I decided to thrown it in as a long, sort-of three part one-shot. Enjoy and mind the warnings.

(gif source dailymcugifs, divider by firefly-graphics)

A Handful of Spite

“Can you believe the fucking nerve on him?!” Henry hissed, punching the bag harder and catching your attention. The statement was followed by his companion nodding grimly.

You tried to ignore the walking testosterone jerks; you never liked either Henry or Jim. The reason was simple – they were, as you loved to remind people, an advertisement on toxic masculinity. Bullies on top of that. The kind of people you wanted to avoid at all costs.

You weren’t that lucky to have that chance though.

So instead, you scoffed under your breath and continued your sit-ups series. You had more important things to do than wonder about what they were talking about this time.

It was your regular training session with the other SHIELD recruits led by Sergeant Barnes – which--- oh my. When joining the academy, you had no clue that the director’s ‘you’ll be learning from the best’ meant that of all things; trained by the more-than-once-believed-late James Buchanan Barnes. Everyone here knew his story – or at least some of it. The brainwashing. The murders. His heroics to make up for them as much as he could. His everlasting friendship and a nickname that was tied to it. Bucky; the very best friend of the oh-so-praised Captain America.

Oh, speaking of which, he joined the sessions too. You were being trained by not one, but two supersoldiers slash war heroes. You couldn’t believe this was your life sometimes, but you were not one to dwell on it. You just accepted it as a fact. An abso-fucking-lutely incredible fact.

“He’s just a fucker, man. Forget about Barnes, you have Cassie in your pocket. Just ‘cause he’s all sticky sweet on her doesn’t mean she’ll suck his-“

You made a disgusting face, pushing harder to tune out the conversation. You wanted to gag and at the same time, your blood was boiling.

Could there be a jerk who was objectifying women more than Jim? A guy who was using his lower brain more frequently than him? Doubtful. You really wanted to throw up at rubbish that was leaving his mouth.

Not to mention that he was throwing dirt on Sergeant Barnes who absolutely didn’t deserve it.

“-he’s like that to all of them. The chicks. And they fucking dig him, it’s disgusting. He makes the poor brainwashed kicked puppy face, reminding the sob story of his and they’re all dropping to their knees I swear…” Jim continued, practically spitting the venomous words.

You squeezed your eyes shut, half furious and half guilty; the sergeant did have a heart-breaking backstory and many girls were making eyes on him, their hearts softened by the tragedy and his bravery, yes. And you couldn’t say it wasn’t moving you as well, filling you with compassion – but compassion only. Obviously, Sergeant Barnes was objectively a very attractive man too, but what they were saying… ugh.

He didn’t deserve these insults; he was not trying anything on anyone, he wasn’t offering his ‘sob story’, actually being rather secretive about it for obvious and no doubt painful reasons. He couldn’t really couldn’t be blamed for the girls fawning over him a bit more because of it, could he? What was he supposed to do? Stop breathing? Stop doing what he chose to be his job?

It wasn’t his problem – and thank god for that – that these two assholes had egos the size of Texas and couldn’t handle a little competition.

Seriously. Walking testosterone-filled jerks. You seriously considered moving from the station you had been given, eyeing Captain Rogers, checking if he would notice.

“Well, he’s not. Getting. Any. From. My. Chick. Asshole!”

The bag swung wildly under Henry’s blows despite Jim holding it. You laid off, taking your fifteen second break.

“I bet he’s fucking them all on side. Always so… so soft on them. I bet he’s leaving all the hard shit for bed,” Jim snorted, somewhere between angry at him competition and amused at his own crude joke.

You were gonna puke. You were sure of it.

“And he’s too hard on us. Showing off for them. I would fucking want to see him holding up against us without that metal arm-“

You had enough. You sat up sharply, panting, your face flushed, unsure whether it was from the exercise or the exchange you were listening to.

“Are you serious?!” you hissed their way, earning their shocked glances.

And then, Jim’s face twisted in annoyance and disgust.

“Oh geez, you’re one of them, aren’t you?” he snarked, rolling his eyes. “The fangirls.”

More heat burned in your cheeks. You weren’t kidding anyone; both the sergeant and the captain had showed up in your not so innocent dreams, but you were only human, alright. There was only so much time you could spend with two very fine men like them in one room, a bit sweaty and rough (or just slightly gentler with the ladies) until your brain reacted. Mostly to the captain. Not the point.

But actually crossing the line? Being a part of the thing they were describing if it ever existed? Waiting in the line until one of them picked you for the evening with a promise to do it again after they… Jesus what, tried all the others? No, thank you. You had some dignity left.

Also, you simply couldn’t imagine them doing such thing. Raised in a different era, tried by war and pain and lost, yet remaining the great men they were? Just nope.

“No! Jesus, are you even listening to yourself?” you hissed, minding your volume. You hoped that the low hum of voice in the room, of others working out, giving each other pointers and the noise of the machines would offer you a cover from the rest of your companion.

“What, you wanna tell me they’re not going easy on you? On any chick, really?”

“Yeah, well, maybe because they don’t actually want to break our bones during training. Supersoldiers. Superstrength. Does that ring a bell?” you pointed out, reaching for your water bottle, hoping either of your trainers would forgive you when seeing you only took a sec to have a sip.

Henry scoffed, leaning onto the bag. “Sounds like someone has a crush…”

You couldn’t help the motion of your hands, inconspicuously throwing them in the air in frustration.

Why were you even speaking to them? You should have kept your mouth shut!

“Oh go to hell, Ulrich! You’re just jealous and scared that your girl whom you treat like a piece of shit will run off,” you murmured, wiping your forehead off sweat.

“Yeah, because they’re sure pulling their punches with guys too,” Jim complained again, rolling his eyes as Henry now watched you, eyes narrowed in anger – oh you hit a nail on the head, alright.

You couldn’t but mirror Jim’s action, deciding to stick to Devil’s advocate, because…. yeah, because it wasn’t fair to either Rogers or Barnes. They were good people and didn’t deserve this.

“So they’re not beating the shit out of us like they do with you, get over it.”

“They’re humiliating us! Showing off their big muscles, trying to impress all the chicks-“

You chuckled incredulously as they actually admitted the real reason behind their bitching so openly; as if you hadn’t known the whole time. Ego. Ohhh, the ego was bruised. Call 911, CPR is gonna be needed! God, how did they even live with ego this big? Compensating for something?

“They’re doing their job. Training. Yes, they go a bit harder on you, because your physiology can take it. Did it ever occur to you that they have bigger problems than entering a pissing contest with you just so they could steal the girls? Jeez… just… maybe try to be less of assholes and the girls will be into you too… ”

You missed the hard look Henry gave you, laying down again, this time on your belly to work on your back.

You wheezed when a knee suddenly dug into your back, violently and painfully knocking the air out of your lungs. Before you could react, one of your arms was twisted behind your back, Henry’s voice raspy right into your ear, low and dangerous.

“Listen, you little bitch, you don’t get to talk to me like that. Understand? Huh?”

He was so proving your point, but you didn’t have the time You tried to breathe in properly, and free your arm while pushing up on the free one, your muscles burning with the effort. Shit, he was heavy. You wheezed again instead of the answer.

“Can’t hear you, sweetie. What was that?”

Peripherally, you could see heavy boots approaching rapidly, making a quick guess of who that could be. You gritted your teeth, tears of humiliation pricking your eyes. You were not about to give Henry the satisfaction of proving his point of your trainers being sweet on all the girls even if this so wasn’t that.

“Screw. You,” you let out with the last oxygen left, grabbing his left calf and sharply tugging to the very same side. A half-second later when his weight of you eased just a fraction, you threw your body to the left as well, adding a jerk of your legs.

Both of you rolled over, him ending up under you and you quickly spun away, gasping, desperately fighting for air. As it burned your windpipe, it was as painful as welcomed. Little spots danced inf ornt of your eyes, but you quickly blinked them away – luckily for you, Henry didn’t dare to attack you again.

You shook your head before pushing to sit up, only to meet with Captain Rogers’s strict gaze.

“What the hell is going on in here?” he demanded, sharp blue eyes flickering between the three of you.

Maybe you were hallucinating, but he seemed to be murdering Henry with his eyes. Uh-uh. You would have been glad he was, hadn’t Henry been talking about favouritism only few moments ago. You pushed up simultaneously with him and you both stood straight, facing the captain.

“Apologies, sir,” you stated mechanically, his gaze immediately shifting to you. Your heart stopped. Oh wow, you would swear the blue of his irises was on fire. You gulped. “We had a slight disagreement with Mr. Ulrich. I’m aware I shouldn’t have been talking to him in the first place. I’ll take whatever punishment is given to me.”

“Yeah, I bet you’d liked taking a punishment from him, wouldn’t you…” Jim muttered under his breath, making your gut twist in disgust.

Was he ever not thinking about sex? You prayed the captain didn’t hear him and you had to stop yourself from shooting Jim a murderous glare.

“I don’t think that’s necessary. Consider it a warning. Mr. Ulrich? You have something to add before you take a few laps?”

You could literally hear Henry’s blood boiling. You opened your mouth to ask for the same punishment, not wanting to have his point proved. You never got the chance to speak.

“No, sir. I only don’t understand why I’m the only one being punished,” Henry questioned innocently and you gritted your teeth.

Maybe because you attacked me, you dickhead?

Captain glared at him for a moment before his gaze shifted to Jim. “You’re not. Mr. Larkin is following your example.”

You pressed your lips together, this time to stop a smile threatening to spread on your lips. God, who knew America’s Golden Boy could get that sassy? You cleared your throat.

“If I might speak, sir, I deserve to run the laps as well,” you noted carefully, earning a curious expression from your superior. You could tell he wavered, a strange spark appearing in his eyes.

You desperately wanted him to let you run too even if you breathing was still a bit difficult; because otherwise Henry would be proved right. Yeah, nope.

“Very well, then. Ten laps around the gym, recruits. Then you move to the station free at the moment. Go. Don’t let it happen again.”

The three of you nodded dutifully and picked up a pace. For some reason, you could feel the captain’s eyes on you while he walked back to assisting his friend with hand-to-hand training. You glimpsed the sergeant leaning to him, probably asking what was that about, but the blond just shook his head.

Towards the eighth lap, you were being overpassed by Henry and Jim, who ran together; faster than you, whether you liked it or not.

“This isn’t over, bitch,” his hateful hiss reached your ears and you picked up speed stubbornly, not showing them that they might intimidate you even for a second.

They wished.

Even when leaving the room after the session was finished, you would swear there was a pair of blue eyes burning a hole to the back of your head. You hoped that you’d soon be free of the captain’s attention.

You sure didn’t want him to watch too closely. You didn’t need him behind your back to see mistakes you sometimes made just like anybody else. Also, it would be harder to admire and ogle him; you did that occasionally, okay. You were just a human, after all.

A Handful of Mistakes

Shauna, your roommate and bestie from science division of SHIELD, was very patient listening to your lament about guys being dicks; she was awesome like that.

So you vigorously vented your frustration with male population, rolled your eyes when mimicking the silent threat of ‘this not being over’, had a very unhealthy piece of cake at the cafeteria that afternoon and moved on.

You should have known better.

Henry’s words came haunting you few days later; which was too bad, because you had already forgotten about them, until the very moment they had punched you to the face.

…or rather to your shoulder and it wasn’t even a punch, more like one of those bumps people did, especially when they were being jerks, shoving you too hard for you to believe it was an accident.

“Sorry, didn’t see you there,” you threw over your shoulder sarcastically, continuing your way to the women’s locker room.

In hindsight, that was probably mistake number one; ignoring Henry and not starting a fight right there, not to mention being mouthy.

To be fair, you had no interest in further interaction; you were exhausted from the training, you were sticky and sweaty and all you craved was a shower. You would have just gone to have one at your dorm, but Shauna was having a hot date and you didn’t want to step on her toes. So you had taken your toiletries with you, using the showers near the gym.

Using the gym shower; mistake number two. It meant all of the students being gone by the time you emerged in fresh homey clothes, hair dripping water, because you hated hair-dryers and avoided them unless they were completely necessary.

You had spent much longer in the shower than needed, allowing your muscles to completely relax under the spray of water. That was mistake number three.

The fourth mistake was your pride. When you saw Henry, Jim, George (at least you thought, you weren’t sure, not having many classes with him) and Frank in the corridor, clearly waiting for you, since they bounced off the wall they had been resting against when you appeared, you should have probably been smarter and scream for help right away.

But no, you were being Miss Future Agent and you weren’t intimidated by four equivalents of high school jocks. Yep, this one was definitely the biggest mistake of yours.

“Fellas,” you beckoned to them, passing them gracefully, your bag over your shoulder along with the wet towel.

You barely made a few steps before a hand gripped your arm, harshly tugging you back. Your heart jumped into your throat, but you tried your best not to let it show. You turned to Henry, looking at his face, head tilted back just slightly due to his height.

“Is there a problem, Ulrich?” you asked calmly, earning a lift of his eyebrows at your tone.

“You know there is. I told you it was not over.”

You tried to ignore your pulse skyrocketing and the panic rising in your gut. You were not that stupid – you understood the implications. You knew that with four guys slowly circling you, you would have to fight bites and nails if it came to it and probably still lose. Sometimes it was just better to walk away and swallow your pride; a concept Henry and Jim clearly didn’t understand.

You jerked from Ulrich’s grip, still hoping you could walk away and call it day.

“It is over for me. Now if you’ll excuse me…“

Yes, you were being naïve thinking it would work.

The bag was torn away from your shoulder, your fingers automatically letting go to stay attached to your hand. You gritted your teeth, blood slowly reaching the boiling point.

Also, maybe you were more than just a bit afraid. Not that you would ever admit it to them.

Henry’s hand reached for your chin and your snatched it away in disgust before he could even make contact with your skin. Amusement dances in his eyes along with a flash of anger.

“Oh, kitty has claws?”

You felt another hand on your backside, sending a shudder up your spine, so you grabbed it, shoving it away as well.

Jim. Why weren’t you surprised? Pigs. What the fuck was their problem?

“I’ll let you know when I meet any. Now get out of my way,” you spat, your gut twisting as a sly grin spread on Henry’s face and he made a step right into your route.

“Or what? You’ll scratch, kitty? Or you’ll scream? Like a little girl?” he mocked you in high-pitched voice, his face lowering to yours so you were only inches apart.

“Bet you’d like that,” you murmured, narrowing your eyes when his breath with an unmistakable hint of alcohol fanned over your face. “No, I’ll offer you a breath-mint, because honestly you should do something about your breath.”

Yep, that was the mistake no.5 and definitely an enormous one.

You heard one of the guys chuckle, but you never got to enjoy the thrill of victory.

Out of blue, there was something around your neck, the weight of the towel shifting (add that to the mistake list) and your body flew backwards, colliding with a male one. George was it?

Your hands went to instinctively grab after the towel crushing your throat, but suddenly they were wrested down and pinned to your sides by strong arms. Jim had caught one, Henry another. Fucking cowards.

With your breath coming out short with both lack of oxygen and rising fear, your pulse thundering in your ears, you tried to jerk from their grip, but they wouldn’t budge, having an undeniable advantage.

Oh fuck, fuck, you were so fucked.

“Sassy little mouth, aren’t we?” Henry hummed, wry expression on his ugly face. “So dirty, feels like we should wash it with something. Who wants to go first, fellas?”

Loud alarm bells rang in your head, icy shiver running down your spine, stomach turning over.

Oh no, you don’t.

Your knee snapped up on instinct to gain the momentum, followed by a swift low kick to Jim’s knee.

He yelped and let go of your arm, allowing you to send an elbow straight to George’s face; and finally, your airways were free as the assault as the towel trap loosened.

You coughed, fighting for oxygen and mindlessly threw the item away to have at least one arm free.

“Bitch!” one of the men yelled; you weren’t sure which one, but you didn’t waste time thinking too much. Survival instinct took over.

Tears prickled in the corners of your eyes and you barely silenced the scream when Henry took advantage of your hesitation, twisting your arm behind your back. Fuck he really had a thing for that, didn’t he?

You tried to kick him, but someone else’s leg somehow managed to swept their leg under yours and you fell on your knees. Sharp tug on your hair caused you to cry out and obediently tilt your head back. Few tears escaped you, but you pushed up in attempt to get up again.

A kick coming from behind threw your body forwards and you nearly fell on your face when Henry finally let go of you. You tasted blood as you bit your cheek, but you managed to at least land on your shoulder instead of face-planting.

It still hurt like a bitch, but at least you still had all your teeth… or you thought so, not having time to check. Catching a movement from the corner of your eye, you managed to roll over before a kick to your side could hit you with full force. Frank’s foot only brushed you, but you were sure you’d have a bruise as a souvenir anyway.

A punch landed next to your face when you dodged it in the last moment, someone grabbing your legs and holding them together. Between your efforts to free them, you didn’t have time to chase away the body suddenly holding your arms as well.

“Fuck--- she’s a handful.”

A ragged battle cry erupted from your throat as you tried to jerk your body from their grip on pure instinct, every self-defence move you had ever learned flying of the window.

“More fun to break her, don’t you think?” Henry purred, his hand sneaking around your waist under the hem of your t-shirt.

Your head spun like crazy at the skin-to-skin contact and nausea hitting you hard. You wanted to puke and scream and punch and you couldn’t make yourself to do either, tears rolling down your cheeks as your body convulsed in a desperate attempt to break free.

There was ringing in your ears, disorienting you, but aware of the hand suddenly covering your mouth you tried to bite it on instinct holding you down.

“Oh-ho, biting!“ you heard, strangely muffled as if you were under water.

“I like them feisty-“

“Playing hard to get!”

“Shit, SHIT-“

The pressure on your legs eased all of sudden and you immediately kicked with all you had, catching the rising figure in the calf, knocking them off balance.

“Fuck!”

You would swear the floor vibrated, but in must have only been your mind playing tricks on you. George disappeared from your field of blurry vision; you only saw a fist sending him flying sideways.

Yep, your mind was fucking making up things, because there was no way he could have been thrown away like this by a single punch. You weren’t complaining; the relief the illusion provided was almost blissful.

Henry’s body weight vanished as well in nearly supersonic speed as if he wanted to escape the illusion. So you did the first thing that came to your mind; with your hands free, you grabbed his ankle, stopping him from running away. Which, thinking about it, was stupid, because only a moment before, you would have given anything to get him the fuck away from you.

He kicked back blindly, but his sole never met with your body – he was dragged away and… and lifted to the air as if he weighted nothing.

Blinking your tears away, your fuzzy mind cleared.

Only to reveal a very muscled and very much pissed off blond slamming Henry against a wall and then letting his suddenly unconscious body slide down.

You gasped, your eyes catching a glimpse of the fourth figure – Frank – several feet away, running for his life.

“Buck?!” came a shout and before you could question it, a metal arm emerged from behind the corner, stopping Frank dead as he rushed straight into it.

“Yep?!” the dark-haired supersoldier yelled back, sounding almost amused.

What the hell was happening? What the hell just happened?!

You blood sizzled in your veins, loud and rapid thump-thump-thump banging in your ears, face damp with several shed tears, body aching and your mind fucking racing.

You heard a whimper on your left, automatically turning to the sound. It left Jim’s lips, his form crumbled on the floor, struggling to stand up.

The captain’s knee seemed to come out of nowhere, digging into Jim’s back and pinning him down again before you even registered a movement.

“Is it fucking over now?”

“Steve, let him be. Not worth it,” Barnes’ voice tried to reason, sounding rather growly, but not nearly as loud as before. He approached your group in rapid pace and Rogers scoffed and let go.

You gulped at sergeant’s angry grimace, crazily convinced he was angry with you for all the mistakes you made that lead to this; but his expression softened when his gaze fell on you.

“Hey there,” he greeted you almost casually, holding out a hand to help you up. “Can you stand?”

You blinked several times at the suddenly dispassionate tone, even if you still sensed something bubbling under it. You shook off the thought and accepted the offered hand – the flesh one. The detail didn’t escape you, your bran in overdrive. Of course he hadn’t offered you the metal arm. He didn’t want to scare you. He was thoughtful like that-

-or not. The strength he dragged you up with was way too much for you, more so when combined with the speed and your state. You stumbled over your feet, a wave of dizziness messing with your balance.

You awaited the upcoming reunion with the floor, unable to stop the fall, but it never happened. Before you could as much as reel, gentle hands supported you in a firm grip, pleasantly warm against your bare arms.

“Whoa, take it easy,” Rogers’ voice warned you, soothing. For some reason, it felt more like ‘I got you,’ instead of ‘take it easy.’

You took a deep breath, Barnes’ hand letting go of yours as he semi-voluntarily handed you over to his friend.

“You’re bleeding from your mouth.”

Thanks for the reminder, I noticed.

You swallowed the snarky remark, well-aware of the sergeant’s care. You fought against the urge to spit the blood out.

“Is fine…” you muttered, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “Bit my cheek. I’m pretty sure I—“ you quickly ran your tongue over your teeth just to confirm your theory, “-still have all of my teeth.”

Sergeant Barnes gave you a tiny smile, the worried crinkle that had found its way between his brows disappearing.

“Whatever you say.”

His gaze flickered to something behind your head, probably in order of exchanging a wordless conversation with your still present crutch. Not that you were complaining. The weight of what had happened was slowly settling on your shoulders and you were grateful for any support – and who were you kidding, Captain America made for a pretty reliable support.

“Why don’t we leave you in pu- Cap’s capable hands while I-“ Barnes’ jaw clenched, pale eyes scanning the four bodies on the floor, calculating. “-take out the trash?”

You nearly choked at the choice of his words, wincing. Captain Rogers’ hands squeezed your shoulders reassuringly and you nodded, not sure what else to do.

You didn’t want to look at Henry. Or Jim. Or their loyal companions.

So when the captain carefully spun you on your heels, you didn’t protest and your feet started moving on autopilot in the direction he had set.

“You okay to walk without support?” he asked softly, a stark contrast to the voice you remembered from earlier or from the training sessions.

You knew that if you said yes, he would let go of you. Honestly, his touch felt damn nice, firm and yet somewhat gentle, a pleasant contrast to harsh fingers of the men who had the nerve to attack you – you had to swallow bile rising to your mouth at the awfully fresh memory. Fuck, it had been so close, just a minute later and--- you shook your head mentally and tried your best to erase this memory from existence.

You decided not to abuse the kindness the captain was offering. After several indulging steps, you quietly confirmed he could release you. You found out that sensing his large frame by your side as if he was your bodyguard was nearly as comforting. Nearly.

You didn’t have the strength admonish yourself for basking the light of his protective persona. Future agent of not, you still had the right to want to feel secure at times.

After all, you were only human.

A Handful of Truths

You didn’t realize you were shaking until a blanket was tossed over your shoulders.

You were sitting on a short couch in what looked like a cosy office, hair still damp, body finally registering the ache caused by previous events, just like your brain was slowly taking in what had happened.

Captain Rogers, whose courtesy was to escort you from the hellhole you had been attacked in, had clearly took it as a personal mission to take care of your injuries; it hadn’t dawned to you until you were seated and your mind helpfully supplied you with ‘This isn’t the infirmary’.

He pulled a swivel chair to sit face to face with you, a box of medical supplies left open on the coffee table at your side. You didn’t realize he had moved the chair or dug the box from god-knew-where until the items were simply there.

“How do you feel?” he inquired, attentive eyes scanning your hunched form. You instinctively curled onto yourself, snuggling further into the blanket. You knew you should come up with an answer, but your brain started to hurt with the effort to do so. “I guess that’s fair. Can you tell me what hurts the most?”

You quickly glanced at his openly kind face, his baby blues still watching for any reaction that would clue him. Your throat went dry at the compassion of display and you had to swallow before speaking – and think. What hurt the most…?

You didn’t know what possessed you to tell him what you did, but it came out before you could stop yourself.

“My pride,” you croaked, causing his eyebrows jump just like the corner of his lips.

“That’s probably fair too. Then again, I’d rather know about something I can fix.”

You felt your body relax a little at his informal tone – you might even say a jovial one, but you could still sense too much worry behind it to call it that. You attempted a tiny smile at least to show him that you were more or less fine – you weren’t – and brilliantly failed.

“Landed on my shoulder. Probably gonna have a bruise on my side from when… when they kicked me. Ribs and arms might be a bit tender for few days, ‘cause they were heavy as they--- they’re heavy,” you voice wavered as you saw the muscles on the captain’s forearms clench and his hands curled up in fists. You sheepishly looked up to his face. “I got lucky.”

His eyebrows rose again in a ‘figures’ manner as he leaned back to the chair.

“Nothing else apart from that, your cheek and your pride?”

“I’m a little cold, but you took care of that,” you admitted, taking a deep breath in as you tugged on the blanket pointedly.

Despite what you were saying, you didn’t feel okay, the tremble never quite leaving your body. It wasn’t hard to figure out why. You stared at your knight in shining armour, gathering courage to do what was needed. You tried your best to meet his gaze, feeling so small and embarrassingly weak in front of him.

“Could have been much worse if you haven’t showed up. Thank you.”

He pressed his lips together, shaking his head. He leaned in, his elbows on his knees.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t faster... I should have kept closer eye on Ulrich,” he muttered under his breath, making you wonder if you only imagined it. “Your pride shouldn’t be hurt. You held yourself against them just fine.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the honestly his voice held – and you were honestly grateful for the slight shift of attention. Oh. Had he forgotten how things had been when he had arrived?

You weren’t sure whether you should remind him. You definitely didn’t want to remind yourself, but before you could solve your little dilemma, he clarified.

“You haven’t started training the combat against multiple opponents yet. Let alone four opponents, all of them having both height and weight advantage. You couldn’t exactly go all Black Widow on them if no one showed you how.”

He accented his words with a reassuring smile and you almost believed him. The shivers finally eased, most likely thanks to the warm treatment you were being given in all senses of the word. The inner cold gradually melted and you were left in nothing but pleasant warmth.

Mentally, you patted your pride gently on its head; you couldn’t quite disagree with him. No matter how helpless you had felt earlier and how ashamed for it you were, the truth was you were still learning. You weren’t a finished agent yet.

You breathed in and out, avoiding the gaze that was still on you. It felt like a freaking brand with how intense it was. You couldn’t say you hated it necessarily, you only wished you at least didn’t look so pathetic. No make-up, probably red with a smudge on blood somewhere, perhaps with some bruising already forming, hair wet and messy. You absently ran your fingers through it in attempt to fix it a bit as if it could help.

What had you been talking about? Right… those assholes being cowards and coming at your four against one.

“I… I just fucking hate bullies,” you grumbled darkly, your hand immediately covering your mouth when you realized what you had said. Oh. Language. Still your superior you’re talking to, no matter how nice. “Sorry. Please, pretend you didn’t hear the f-word. I just hate bullies, period.”

“I might have sworn earlier too, so let’s call it even,” the captain offered, one corner of his lips raised. Oh. He had, hadn’t he? ‘Is it fucking over now?’ What did that even mean? “And so I heard.”

“What?” you yelped, your mind racing again in search for the meaning behind his words.

“I mean… I heard you. When you were defending Bucky, in the gym. I’m pretty sure your exact words were about a ‘pissing contest’.”

“Oh god,” you breathed out, your face no doubt set aflame. He had heard you; that was why he had said he should have kept a closer eye on Henry. Oh. Ohhhh.

Also, did he just say ‘pissing’?

“You weren’t wrong by the way. But… neither were them.”

You blinked in surprise. What? “About?”

You knew he didn’t mean the sleeping around with recruits, your gut was screaming that at you, because they wouldn’t, but still, you rather asked for clarification. If he didn’t mean that part, which one then?

“Ladies do fall over for Bucky,” he hummed with a lopsided smile, a playful twinkle in his eyes. It did something to your belly, a strange familiar shift that was very inappropriate, but hell, people needed to cut you some slack. He was impossible not to ogle and you didn’t have the energy to control your reaction after today’s events. “And I don’t really pull my punches when I’m training those two in particular.”

“Why?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself and think better of it.

His gaze bored into yours, burning with intensity and with a glint of something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“I don’t like bullies either.”

Did he lean in even more or were you so focused on his face it only seemed closer?

You weren’t able to look away. His blue eyes simply locked you in, not allowing you to escape. The strangest thing was that it wasn’t scary. It should be, he was— he was a freaking captain, your superior, a superior to a lot of people, which you were constantly forgetting ever since he had saved you from falling on your ass in the hallway and you had to remember that.

Before you could though, your racing mind packed up and let your body, your mouth to be precise, act without supervision.

“Not trying to impress the ladies then, huh?”

His tiny sheepish smile cut off the uprising panic in your chest when you realized how bold of you was to say that. He lowered his gaze, giving a subtle shrug. “Guess I wouldn’t want one falling for guy’s muscles and a show-off of dominance.”

“What for then? Honesty? Sincerity? Kind eyes? Strong moral compass?” you heard yourself prying, internally horrified how far you had come when saying that. Your face was drained of colour when it clicked. You were literally naming things you liked about him, absolutely shamelessly putting them in the open. Oh shit. Fix it, fix it, fix it! “…the sass?”

His eyes went wide and he burst out laughing so loud it startled you for a second, especially as he threw his head back with the outburst. Then you reluctantly joined him, covering your face with your hands in embarrassment.

“The sass!” he howled, unable to hold back another fit of laughter and when you peeked at him through between your fingers, you saw his palm resting against his chest as if it could help him stop laughing.

Just like that, blood rushed back into your cheeks.

“Oh god, I made it worse!” you cried out, wishing for the earth to swallow you, frantically looking around for the fastest escape route. “Oh my god, I have to switch schools now… excuse me-“

You hastily got up from your seat, but a quick hand snatched yours, pulling you back.

You stumbled, landing ungracefully right back in your place, this time without the blanket. Captain Rogers was watching you with the corners of his lips high, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Sorry for grabbing you like that. But no, please. Stay.”

Your throat closed off when you heard his soft plea, only traces of humour in it. Yeah, you bet he hadn’t met anyone with such big mouth for a while, so he thought it was better to keep the comic around.

“Captain Rogers, I-I- what I said, it was completely out of line-“ you stuttered, only to be interrupted.

“Were you making it up?” he questioned.

You gulped, your mind screaming at you to say yes to save you the humiliation. And yet, with the cerulean irises staring into your eyes, your mouth did the exact opposite.

“No.”

Dammit.

“Then why would you go?” he questioned softly. His hand still didn’t leave yours, only easing the grip into a kinder one. You felt like a brand was being burned into your skin. A pleasant one, so you didn’t retreat. Oh, you’d never. But what on Earth was he getting at? “We need someone honest like you. People who stand up for others, even if only to defend their honour. That is the kind of people who should be in this line of work. The good ones.”

You opened your mouth, no sound coming out as his speech shook you to your core, tickling your stomach pleasantly along with your pride. His words seemed to be coming from heart, genuine, which was not helping your blood pressure and suddenly wobbling limbs.

“Even when they have potty mouth and put their foot in it? ‘Cause I seem to excel in that.”

“Especially then,” he chuckled and you could tell there was no pinch of a lie in it.

Something was in the air, crackling deliciously, and you liked it. You wouldn’t be able to describe it properly, the feeling simply too unique, but it was tickling your fancy so weren’t about to complain.

“O-okay. Thank you, Captain,” you whispered, revelling in the sight of the gentle curve of his lips.

“You started with the compliments, Agent.”

And just like that, you wanted to run for your life again, drowning in embarrassment.

What were you even still doing here? Complimenting him? Enjoying his touch? Flirting with him?

Were you nuts?!

Him, a captain— no, the captain. And you, an agent--- hell, you were not even an agent yet!

The captain whose eyes flickered to not-an-agent’s lips for the shortest of moments, widening a fraction before returning to her eyes.

Oh, now you were definitely going nuts. You were hallucinating. You must have hit your head too. He wasn’t into you and you being into him was very stupid.

You should go.

…any moment now.

…just get off your ass for god’s sake-

“Can I ask you something?”

You blinked yourself back to reality, shushing the voice in your head, curious smile appearing on your lips involuntarily. The softness of his voice felt better than the blanket before and you wanted to cocoon yourself in it, postponing the leaving plans to never.

“Sure,” you replied, the smile remaining on your face despite your better judgement.

He lowered his eyes to your joined hands, his thumb running over the back of your hand in a feather-light touch. You heart positively stopped at the moment, your breath hitching. Holy shit, what was he doing?

“This, does it… do you hate it?” he whispered the question, not meeting your eyes as if he was too shy, which was… ridiculous. He had no reason to be shy.

It still felt like a shot through your heart – a nice one, though, it that was possible. The words combined with the way they were spoken, it stirred something in your belly, warming it up and you couldn’t deny it anymore.

You really wanted this man; whatever this was, it was getting beyond a silly crush. Also, for some reason, it seemed as if he was trying to tell you he was interested too, which you thought was pretty freaking crazy.

“Stay honest, please,” he pleaded when you didn’t answer right away.

Did you hate it? The chastest display of affection if you dared to call it that? Your mind raced, trying to figure out why on earth he would ask that. Because the only reason you had come up with so far was completely impossible.

“No,” you said simply, earning a brief glance up before he looked down again. His Adam’s apple bobbed.

“Good. That’s good… and would you… I’m aware this is out of line and I—I want you to answer truthfully without fearing the consequences-…“

It was your turn to swallow loudly, because what? What did he want to ask that he considered it out of line? He was your superior – you could think of thousand ways of how you could get out of line, but him? And why should you fear the consequences?! Did he want you to help him to hide a body?

That’s not it and you know it. You know what he wants to ask, you rational side admonished you.

Oh please, shut up. Since when you switched sides?

“O-okay. What— what is it-- Steve?” you stuttered out, freezing when his name left your lips and his head snapped up, his hand giving yours a squeeze. Oh boy.

“Would you possibly say you like it?” he blurted out and your brain went to overdrive at the hope behind his expression.

Huh. He really just asked that. Oh shit. Oh wow. Your jaw fell into your lap – only figuratively, you hoped –, your ears buzzing, your blood bursting in excitement.

Oh yeah, you understood why he mentioned the consequences. Either you could say no and you’d fear he might treat you differently or you could say yes and you’d ‘fear’ he might treat you differently.

The fire in your insides burned hotter at the idea of the latter.

His hand slowly left yours, giving you a simple choice you still couldn’t believe you were given.

Holy shit. What do you even say to something like that? Coming from someone like him? Your brain froze as you only managed to stare.

Did his— did the corners of his lips turn down? Was that sadness pooling in the sea of blue of his eyes?

Oh no, you don’t.

“Y-yes,” you admitted sheepishly, closing your eyes at the heaviness of your confession.

You could feel the weight on your shoulders as silence fell, only interrupted by your soft breathing that sounded ominously loud.

Your fingers twitched when his warm palm covered them again, your lips parting in surprise. You kept your eyes closed, indulging the strange moment. His free hand caressed your other as well, the gentlest of touches, tender, contrasting with rough callouses on his fingers.

“I like it too.”

At that, you gathered enough courage to look at him, only to see him inspecting your face closely, observing your reactions. It shocked you that it wasn’t uncomfortable as you would expect; must have been the kindness and wonder in his gaze. You forced your lips to curl up in a tiniest smile. Steve smiled back with same hesitance, his face lighting up.

He looked like a boy next door (making it to a modelling agency), shining eyes and happy grin forming on his lips. He was more gorgeous than ever.

Still keeping your hands, he raised his right one, his knuckles brushing your unharmed cheek. The gesture was so tender it brought tears into your eyes, causing him quickly retreat.

“Sorry-“

You shook your head with a self-deprecating chuckle, squeezing his fingers before he could let go of you completely.

“It’s not you—I mean… it is you,” you babbled nonsensically, taking a breath to gather your thoughts. “It’s just— that was really sweet. No, that’s not-“ Not the right word. “It was beautiful. I swear I never felt so…” loved “-cared for in my life.”

He frowned, a shadow of pain running over his face. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I know that today was… unpleasant.”

Seeing his reluctance and discomfort, you went for the first thing that came up to your mind. You straightened up and pressed a light kiss on his cheek, withdrawing much slowly because once you were in his orbit, it was hard to leave.

His breath hitched, his eyes glued to you intently, flickering to your lips again.

“You didn’t upset me, Steve. That’s the last thing you could do with that,” you assured him, face still inches from his. His name rolled off your tongue easily this time, even though it still left your heart fluttering.

“And if I asked you to have dinner with me?”

Your stomach twisted in a pleasant knot at that suggestion, your lizard brain already thinking about having a dessert for a second; and you weren’t thinking cake or ice-cream.

Yeah, barely. This was a guy ready to treat you right, you were sure of it. He certainly wasn’t about to kiss you now, not afar what happened today, he might go for it after the dinner and that was only if you got lucky enough. You swallowed the disappointment at the idea, quickly shaking it off.

Make up your goddamn mind, woman. You should be glad that men who weren’t thinking with their lower brain still existed and one of those was clearly interested in you, which… yeah, what the hell, that might take a while getting used to. Add the fact that he was being incredibly considerate of how you might feel after being assaulted and you had a winner of your heart. You realized you were actually happy he wouldn’t try anything even nearly ‘funny’.

You were fine with hand-holding and brushes of his fingers on your face, which honestly, the tenderness behind that gesture made you toes curl. You didn’t care much if that made you a freaking sap.

“Still not upset,” you gave an answer at last, deciding he probably liked when you were a bit cheeky.

He offered a closed lipped smile in response, confirming your theory.

“Does that count like a yes?”

You shrugged, the corners of your lips twitching. You had no idea when the change had happened, but all you wanted now was to giggle. And maybe snuggle, but you weren’t about to say that out loud.

“You tell me.”

He licked his lips and shook his head as he retreated. Before you could protest – or have a heart attack, because the motion of his tongue attracted your gaze like a magnet, setting your core on fire –, he sat beside you, leaving enough space in case you didn’t like it.

You liked it, subtly moving an inch closer to his side. Damn, he radiated warmth. Maybe just a bit closer…?

“Cheeky dame, aren’t you?” Steve more stated than asked, reaching for the blanket pooled around you to cover you again.

You didn’t realize you had goosebumps before his hands gently tugged you in, careful not to touch you where you could consider it inappropriate.

Yeah, forget about any funny business any time soon.

You huffed. “Clearly. It did get me into trouble before.”

His eyes darkened a bit, his face noticeably falling.

No, nope, bad move, miss not-an-agent.

“I should walk you back to your dorm,” he remarked, already rising to his feet.

You first reaction was to say no, because you weren’t ready to say goodbye yet. Your second was to say no also, because Shauna probably still had her hot date.

Instead, your hand shot up to catch his, effectively stopping him. He froze before returning to his seat, tiny question mark in a place of his face right next to his soft smile.

You cleared your throat, deciding to give him the latter reason.

“Uhm… my roommate has a date. If I go there, I’ll probably find a sock on the doorknob,” you admitted, biting your lip when he raised an eyebrow and relaxed to the cushions.

“People still do that?”

You chuckled, the fact that not only he was a captain, but also Captain America, which meant he was about hundred years old, hitting you like a train.

“Yeah, people still do that,” you assured him, amused.

He pouted, which you found unfairly adorable and… kissable. Nope, later.

“Sure, make fun of the old man…” he uttered, but a spark of laughter lighted up in his irises, so you assessed he wasn’t too offended. He was most likely used to the teasing.

As an idea of interpreting his words differently popped in your mind, you grinned.

“Is that a permission to make fun of Sergeant Barnes?” you pried playfully, sending Steve into another surprised fit of laughter, not unlike when you had complimented his sass. Your heart swelled at the joyful picture of him and the prospect of seeing more of it in future.

Due to his laughter, you didn’t hear he knock on the door if there was any n the first place. The door simply swung open, revealing the other supersoldier. Speak of the Devil…

Seeing his friend, Steve burst out laughing once more. Sergeant Barnes closed the door with a puzzled look.

You just shrugged in response, opening your mouth without a sound coming out and he took in the scene in front of him again, a smirk appearing on his lips. Under that gaze, you felt your face heat up. You could only imagine how that looked like, Steve cosily close to you, laughing, your hand right next to his thigh as his outburst had sent it sliding from his hand.

The smirk on the supersoldier’s face only deepened when he noticed how flustered he had made you.

“Punk?” he questioned and Steve wheezed once more, raising a palm in the sergeant’s direction, turning to you first.

He offered you a hand to shake. Confused, you accepted as his eyes twinkling in mischief bored into yours.

“Deal,” he mouthed, sending your lips twitching, and only then he shifted his attention to his friend. “Buck?”

The supersoldier had his eyes narrowed, watching you suspiciously.

“I’m gonna regret sending you with her instead of doing it the other way around, aren’t I?” he stated, not actually asking as his gaze flickered between the two of you.

His expression pushed you over the edge and the giggle building up in your chest for the last few minutes finally broke free. You simply couldn’t contain it anymore despite having two superiors in the room. Steve gave you a warm smile as the sound left your lips, clearly not bothered by it.

You hoped you’d be forgiven by Sergeant Barnes as well. After all, you were just human.

“Yeah, Buck, I think you are.”

S.R. masterlist

Sorry for the cavities at the end. Or should I say ‘you’re welcome’? Whatever works for you :))

Thank you for reading!

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gwynrielsupremacist · 3 years ago

Text

A COURT OF LIGHT AND SHADOWS

Chapter 1: Voices

Read at AO3.

Gwyn's afternoon couldn't get any worse.

First of all, the morning's training had been horrendous.

Three weeks after the Blood Rite, Cassian and Azriel had thought it was time to start practicing again, since according to them, they had made a lot of mistakes that could very well have cost them their lives.

She was still alive, just like Nesta and Emerie, so at least one thing they had done well, survive.

After 3 weeks of not doing any sports, it was noticeable when you came back with all the energy, especially on a day where the sun was literally burning.

She noticed as she did push-ups that morning how her arms were trembling dangerously, the sweat running down the curve of her breasts, soaking the shirt she had worn.

Gwyn had promised herself that she would go out into the outside world.

That year she had made a lot of progress, she supposed she should be ready to enter society again, but no.

After the events in the Blood Rite, what she wanted was to lock herself in the darkest corner of the library, with a good book, and stay there to live.

Obviously, she couldn't do that. But she would have liked it.

With all the sore muscles, having failed almost all the obstacles the two Illyrians put them, showing a regrettable endurance in each and every one of the exercises, she had to go down to the library to have a pleasant chat with Merrill, who did not understand why her performance hadn't been 100% in recent weeks.

"I don't know, Merrill. Maybe because they pulled me out of bed against my will, left me in the middle of a forest full of Illyrians, while I had to fight to stay safe, as well as having to kill people? Maybe because I had never left the library after Sangravah, and I suddenly found myself in the same situation? " She reasoned, trying to control her pulse, having remembered the events in the Blood Rite.

She detested Merrill.

More than anyone else, she hated her. She often thought that life would be so much easier if people like Merrill just didn't exist.

After leaving her a ton of work to do, the female disappeared, leaving Gwyn with about seven books resting in her arms, already numb from the morning exercises.

She ran to the nearest table, relieved when she put the books down, with a thud.

She rubbed her dazed hands, wincing at the pile of books that awaited her to spend hours and hours together.

She had to research one of Merrill's new obsessions, the ancient and forgotten Prythian gods.

"I didn't even know they existed", she opined, opening a random book to a random page, flipping through the contents.

She got dizzy from so much information she did not understand, closing the pages with force, grabbing a cart that was nearby, leaving the volumes in it and going to her room, to calmly read those pages and pages of useless information, and then do a chapter-by-chapter summary for Merrill.

"Great, it's a good way to spend your free time if you love reading junk." She groaned as she carefully lowered the cart down the stairs.

"It is not junk. It is information that may be useful at some point", answered her subconscious.

At least she thought it was her subconscious.

She didn't remember when she had started to hear that voice, just one day it had appeared, and now it was considered the voice of reason.

Everything that voice said, it was true.

"I know, but I don't know how knowing which are the main and forgotten gods of Prythian is going to solve my problems." She attacked, greeting one priestess that came close to her, passing by her side.

The voice fell silent, apparently it had nothing more to add.

At least Gwyn could answer the voice in her mind. It would have been a strange thing to see a person argue with herself.

Upon reaching the room, which was a simple square with a bed, a wooden desk with a wooden chair that had more splinters than wood itself, and a modest closet, also made of wood.

Yeah, in summer the termites would destroy all the furniture if she wasn't careful.

Closing the door with the latch, one of the little luxuries she had on it, she put the books down with a thump, brushing her hands on the skirts of the gown, which was already heavily encrusted with dust.

She thought of taking off that long dress, which after so many washes the initial blue had ended up in an almost invisible gray, but she did not feel like going to the common baths of the priestesses, because every time she went there, they peppered her with questions about the Blood Rite.

And the last thing she wanted to do was talk about it.

So she collapsed on the bed, pulling back the covers and hugging the pillow with one arm, as she got into a fetal position.

"You have to go out, you can't hide in the bedroom all afternoon." It protested, to which she responded very kindly with a growl as she turned, trying to make it understand that she was going to do whatever she wanted.

"Alright then. If you get caught between the sheets and can't get out, don't come running to ask me for help." it threatened.

Gwyn didn't know how she was going to ask for help to a voice. It was disembodied, how the hell was she going to beg for help if she didn't even know what that murmur was?

She rolled over on the bed, rubbing her eyes and exhaling, disappointed.

She hated not being able to get out of that damn room.

She hated her insecurity and her irrational fear.

"It is not irrational, Gwyn." It assured her.

"Leave me alone." She begged, getting it to shut up.

She lay on her stomach, breathing deeply.

She looked at the time on the only clock in the room, located above the closet.

19.36.

It appears that she had a lot of time to do absolutely nothing.

Maybe she was going to pick up a book that Nesta and Emerie were reading.

Honestly, she was dying to sink her teeth into one that had caught her attention. According to her description, a maiden sent by the gods fell in love with her bodyguard...

Determined, she bolted upright, unlocking the latch, happily heading for the book.

There would be time to examine the books Merrill had passed her.

Anyway, she had a lot of time, reading something that interested her was not going to do anything bad to everyone.

With a broad grin, she made it to the fiction book section. She opened one of the books, tucking her nose between the pages, an exhale escaping from her lips when she smelled the wonderful book scent.

Her gaze sparking, she searched for the novel she was looking for.

"Didn't you forget something?" It asked.

She stopped short in the middle of the shelves, alarming a passing priestess.

Bowing her head in apology, she went back to searching, her eyes narrowing as she searched the thousands of spins with her eyes, finding none that bore the name of the book she was looking for.

"I don't have any errands to deliver to Merrill." She snapped, frowning when she finally found it.

It was at the top of the shelf.

She made a long face, standing on her tiptoes, stretching her arm as far as she could as she stuck her tongue out, focused.

"I don't mean Merrill, Gwyneth."

"Mysterious voice, what are you talking about?" The priestess demanded in a tired voice. She did not arrive. Why did they make the shelves so high? It was not possible that someone could reach them.

Although, don't get it wrong, Gwyn adored the voice. It was equal to the voice that we all have within us guiding us.

The problem was that the voice that she had was a little… annoying.

She looked at the shelves next to the floor, no books in sight.

Maybe if she got on them…?

She put one foot on it, skipping little hops as she judged whether the bookcase was going to fall or not.

Realizing that it was unlikely, she lifted her other foot, raising her heels as much as she could while she stretched out her arm, feeling her muscles go numb.

A little more ... just a little more ...

"You remember that your friend Nesta has a mate, right? And that you promised them that you would go to her ceremony?" As soon as she finished the sentence, Gwyn stopped.

Shit.

Seriously, had she forgotten that?

"There is still time… There are five days until the ceremony." The voice tried to calm her down, but nothing was going to do it now.

She jumped down from the shelf, as she began to walk from one place to another, in circles.

She had to go.

She couldn't do that to Nesta.

"I don't even have a dress. What am I going to wear?" Alarmed, she slightly stretched the strands of her coppery hair, thinking of a way to solve all the problems that had suddenly befallen her.

I have to leave the library to go to the mating ceremony.

The female began to hyperventilate, forgetting the book that she had held less than 3 centimeters from her hands.

That was far more important.

"I can't tell Nesta that I forgot about her mating ceremony. I can't do that to her." Gwyn protested, running her hands over her face, rubbing her temples angrily, forcing herself to search for solutions and solutions and solutions.

But neither of them was going to work.

She had to get out of there, no priestess was going to leave her a suitable dress for the mating ceremony.

But she couldn't go alone. She did not dare to go down to the city alone.

Emerie couldn't help her. It had started the illyrian high-selling season and the illyrian needed the money. She only went to training, then she quickly returned to her store, not staying a minute longer than necessary.

Cassian and Nesta were completely out of the question.

Azriel...

"Ask him." The voice advised.

She needed to name that voice. She could not continue calling it "the voice", that was beginning to be uncomfortable.

"Maybe he can help you get the dress." It continued.

Would it be male or female? Or rather, what the hell was it?

"Are you listening to me?"

She definitely had no idea what it was.

"What are you?" Gwyn questioned, curious as she left the fiction section behind, walking aimlessly through the library.

She loved to wander aimlessly through the thousands of bookshelves, silent priestesses, the whisper of books her only company.

Besides that voice, of course.

"Have you heard anything I've said to you in the last two minutes?" Her voice roared.

"I've heard nonsense, so no, I haven't heard anything." She claimed. "But anyway, you haven't answered my question. What are you?"

"I am everything and I am nothing at the same time."

Now was it was being funny with her?

She rolled her eyes, annoyed "That is not an answer."

"It's an answer if you know how to interpret it." It answered.

She rolled her eyes again.

"Well, at least tell me what I can call you, it's uncomfortable to think of you as 'The voice'" She asked.

The voice fell silent, which she thought meant the end of the conversation.

She decided to head over to her room, assuming she should start Merrill's work, until 'the Voice' answered her.

"Elián"

Gwyn stood in the middle of the bedroom hall

"That is your name?" She asked.

"My real name would burn your lips if you were able to pronounce it" It replied. "But yes, Elián is my name, and I am 'him', I have noticed how you struggled because you did not know if I was a man or a woman. The definition of gender is much more complicated than that, but it will be enough".

"G-Good." She answered.

Elián was quiet at last, leaving her with her own thoughts, as she opened the door, her own scent of jasmine feeling welcoming.

And the proposal he had made, although obviously she had ignored it, she was not wrong to consider.

Perhaps the Shadowsinger would help her out, aiding her finding a decent dress for her.

She closed the crank behind her, sitting on the small bed, wondering if it would be smart to ask him, risking him saying no, or not asking him and risking not having a dress for the ceremony.

Sighing, she figured she should go to the bathrooms to get the sensation of dust - and the dust itself - off her body, so she grabbed change clothes and headed there, deciding at that moment that tomorrow she would ask the Spymaster if he could accompany her to buy a dress.

Inside her, she could feel Elián nodding his head, giving his approval.

TAG LIST (tell me if you want to be tagged or deleted) @bookish-isha @imsointobooks @shisingh @feyretale @niaacotar @flora-shadowshine @tealnymph24 @trashforazriel @hlizr50 @meher-sumedha @heyovivi @positivewitch @greywarens-magician @sageofthegalaxy @valkygwyn @verifiefangirl @verifiefangirl-mainblog @snickerdoodlechittybangbang @genya-berdara @katekatpattywack @frulyall @mercurianbisous @rainbowcheetah512

#omg here's the first chapter #i hope you like it <3 #gwynriel #my fic #acolas #acosf #acotar #nessian #elucien #gwynriel fanfiction #azriel #gwyn berdara #gwyn #gwyneth berdara

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liums · 4 years ago

Note

Xiao X Mc/reader who is afraid of thunders/lightings. also fluff

Hello~ here's a small note: I wrote Xiao as a mix of his eng voice lines and Chinese voice lines, since they make him sound completely different.

Aka his eng makes him sound like he is edgy, aggressive and tsundere as hell, but his original voice lines and voice acting, The chinese, make him sound like a lonely, calm person.

here we go then:

-You and Xiao had quite the weird relationship, for all that matters you didn't think he thought of you as a friend, but you weren’t strangers either. sometimes, more often than not, when you went to the upper balcony he wouldn’t vanish in thin air.

- That had to mean something right? RIGHT?

- those were the thoughts passing through your mind as you stood in the upper balcony at night, looking at no particular point of liyue.

-you let out a heavy sigh and as you turned around to return to your room- you found yourself in front of Xiao.

- You took the scare of your life. though this happens almost every time he would just appear near you when you thought to be alone.

-HOW COME SOMEONE COULD BE SO SILENT !?

- Xiao just made his way over to the balcony and stood there looking over at liyue. Now that you calmed down a bit and started looking at the Yaksha, you noticed his hair was a bit messier than usual if that is even possible, and that there was some blood in his clothes.

-You wanted to ask what happened, but it was probably a bit too obvious, so you just returned to your place at the balcony, this time, with Xiao beside you.

- “You were returning to your room” Xiao said after a while of silence.

- “ Well, I decided to stay a while longer, I haven’t seen you in almost a week, and I'm sure if I go to sleep now I won’t see you again for a couple days” you stated with a hand making vague gestures in the air. You heard a small “humph” from him and both of you went silent again.

-Moments like these were becoming more and more frequent recently, and even when neither the two of you would say something, you thought it was quite enjoyable….out of curiosity you took a glance at him, and holy archon, the man was beautiful. ahhh..those fierce eyes looked so calming to you…and you could swear there was a very small hint of a smile on his face, though it was most definitely your imagination working up, you wouldn’t mind staying like that for a couple hours….

-And of course

-As if to ruin the moment.

-It began raining ….

-It was just a bit of rain and it didn’t bother you, and Xiao clearly didn’t care about it. So you just began playing with the drops who fell in the balcony support. And then you heard it. A ferocious thunder in the distance. You gave a little jump and froze on the spot.

-You probably just heard it wrong right? hah, why now? you weren’t eve- “I have seen many mortals who fear lightning… Incomprehensible, fear of something so com-” Xiao had not the time to finish his phrase before he felt something, or rather, someone, grabbing his sleeve and letting go not one second after.

- He was a bit startled since you had never dared to do this sort of thing. However when he looked at you to say something about it, your face was more white than the almond tofu he had this morning, and the words he wanted to say instantly died on his throat.

“Xia-”*thunder* you wanted to apologize, but you were yet again interrupted by that ominous sound and froze on spot, Your knuckles already white from the force you were exercising on the balcony support.” I …I think I’ll go back inside now haha…” you faked a small laugh and hurried inside without paying further attention to Xiao.

-Xiao just stood there looking in the direction you left to with his usual stoic face, but I assure you he was just ????????????????????? as possible on the inside.

………

-It has been a while since you wrapped yourself in blankets and covered your ears to minimize the sound of the thunders, your eyes were shut and you sometimes mumbled some words to yourself. And so, when Xiao approached your door and knocked you didn’t hear him.

-Well Xiao didn't know why he hadn’t left yet, but he also wasn’t going to come into your room without your permission, so he just stood there. He was going to knock again when he heard you give a shriek.

And at that moment one hundred thoughts crossed Xiao’s mind, and 99 of them included you being in danger, So in a split second Xiao’s spear was in his hand and your door was no more.” Y/N!?” Xiao called while rapidly scanning the room with his eyes.

You did hear a loud bang, but with your hands covering your ears, every sound sounded muffed, so you thought it to be another thunder. With your eyes still closed all you could do was pull your legs even closer to your chest. Now seeing you physically unharmed was like a pain killer to Xiao, his racing mind finally calmed down and he let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t sense any sort of demon in the room so that was obviously not the case. The only thing left was finding out what was happening to you, yes he thought you were a bit weird, but this was not like you. And honestly speaking Xiao preferred to fight some demon, not because he didn’t want to interact with you, but rather because he was aware of how bad he was when dealing with human emotions.

With his spear no longer in sight he approached your bed, “y/n” he called in a plain voice, however, since you showed no signs of opening your eyes anytime soon, he reached your shoulder and lightly touched it “y/n.”- As soon as you felt someone touching you your first reaction was to reach for your sword that was beside the bed, Xiao had expected this much to happen, but he didn’t move a single muscle, and of course as soon as you saw it was Xiao, you just dropped the sword without a second thought and quickly began apologizing” Xiao I-I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to- I didn't hear you coming in….” you turned your face to the other side since you could feel your eyes wet and didn’t want Xiao to see you like this.

Xiao on the other side noticed you were avoiding his eyes right away because somehow you had developed the annoying tendency to always look in his eyes whenever you were speaking with him, well, he says annoying, but if you’d stop doing it out of the blue, he would feel weird and a bit bothered since he had grown comfortable with you doing it.

Xiao narrowed his eyes a bit, he wanted to know what could have possibly caused this sort of behavior from you and moved so he could see your face. You had stopped covering your ears ever since Xiao had touched your shoulder, so when he yet again attempted to call your name and a thunder soared in the background, you gave another shriek and froze for a split second, seeing this, Xiao got more worried again. Could it perhaps be that you were afraid of him???? But you had never feared him once, despite his attempts to shoo you away at first. So why would you fear him now??? Yes, his clothes had “a bit” more blood than usual but that would hardly make you fear him, right???

“Aha… I’m sorry Xiao, I left so abruptly” you began explaining, interrupting his train of thoughts. You were still with your legs close to your chest, but now you were playing with your own hands, still not looking directly at Xiao. “As you can see I'm fine, so there is no need for you to be here, I don’t want to be-”

“I’m not leaving until this situation is explained. Now talk.” Xiao had crossed his arms again. Aha…he really doesn’t know how to sugarcoat his words even when he’s worried, does he? But in your eyes, this was a very cute trait he had.

“It’s really a trivial matter, I don’t want to bother you” you had a small forced smile while looking at your own hands.

Xiao crossed his arms “I thought I told you to speak my name whenever you were in trouble” Well, that was not entirely the truth, he told you to speak his name whenever death came to you, or monsters, or knives at your throat, so obviously fear of thunders was not on the list, but of course you wouldn’t say this out loud. ”I’m not leaving until you explain. Talk” His voice sounded a bit aggressive and intimidating, but there was more than a hint of worry in it, so you gave up. You looked at him with a bit of reluctancy and sat more properly in your bed. Then you gestured to a chair that was by your bedside. Xiao sat and waited for you to start explaining.

You took some time to start speaking, and Xiao could only prepare himself for what you were going to say, as the vigilant Yaksha, the conqueror of demons there would hardly be a problem he wouldn't be able to solve for you. And when you finally opened your mouth, he couldn’t help but focus his eyes on you. “I….” You began ”I’m afraid of thunders….” once again you shifted your gaze to somewhere else. Xiao had lived thousands of years, dealt with countless problems and witnessed millions of troubled mortals begging for adepti help but this was something he had never expected.

He didn't know what to say, obviously thunders were insignificant to him, much less something to be afraid of. But you were afraid of them, what possibly could he say?????? Xiao was now in an internal conflict, of course on the outside he still had that poker face of his, eyes a bit widened with surprise while still glaring at you. If it were in another situation you would have probably thought something along the lines of “how can a thousand years adepti have such a cute and Innocent face….” but this was not the time nor the place.

“I bet you didn't expect that…” you smiled sadly as you hugged your legs. Xiao wanted to help, he really did, but how??? He had never dealt with this. He had started to think maybe you would be better without him there and should have left you alone, you had dealt with this situation a lot of times and you probably knew how to deal with it.

He really was about to get up when another thunder soared, a fierce one at that, and you unconsciously grabbed his sleeve. “Don’t leave…!”The words left your mouth before you could stop them. The ferocious Yaksha froze, you were looking at him, your eyes wetter than before and an expression of fear and despair on your face. This was happening way too many times recently, an adeptus like him shouldn’t be so easily surprised, and by a human no less. The thought of leaving left his mind immediately, and if he had slightly left the chair, Xiao sited again right away. He really couldn’t leave now.

Once you realized you had grabbed his sleeve again you slowly released it hoping he didn't realize you had grabbed onto it in the first place, was this becoming a habit????? it already happened twice!. On the other hand, Xiao obviously noticed, and that was one of the reasons a weird and warm sensation began growing in his chest.

“..Xiao I-”

As you were about to speak when Xiao cut you “Go sleep, I’ll be here”, he said with his eyes closed and a solemn expression. Well, Xiao had no experience dealing with this kind of situation nor he knew what to do, but if you said for him not to leave, he wouldn’t.

You were about to say he didn’t need to, and that he probably had other things to do, but three consecutive thunders were heard as if to say “shut up and thank him!!” So you just noded and covered yourself with blankets.

Now that Xiao was aware of the source of your unwellbeing, every time there was a thunder he would shoot a deadly look at the window with the corner of his eyes as if he could actually make them stop. After one final glance at your figure, he turned his head to the window, just calmly gazing at the rain, still, there was this protective aura you could feel from him.

Even looking at the window, Xiao could feel you flinch every time he heard a thunder, however after a while, you stopped, maybe you fell asleep. Even if that was the case he still stood there for a good half an hour. He probably wouldn’t admit it, but he was enjoying the ambiance.

When he looked at you as if to check everything was alright, it finally hit him “What am I still doing here?”. Without further thought, he stood up and was about to leave your bedside when he felt something slightly tugging onto him. When he looked over…. yes, you guessed it. You were peacefully grabbing the end of his sleeve.

You see, earlier when Xiao was looking at the window and you were trying to ignore the thunders and sleep, you sometimes stole a look at him, and in one of those times, you noticed part of his sleeve was on your bed, and reaaaally close to your hand at that. You looked at it for some seconds, and lightly touched it, then quickly looked at xiao, and since he didn't seem to notice, you slightly shifted your body closer to him and rested your hand on his sleeve. When you moved your head closer to your hand and his sleeve, you felt his scent filling you. You had never noticed since you never had got close enough to feel it, but he smelled like sandalwood and rain. After this, you stopped hearing the thunders and slowly fell asleep.

With anyone else, Xiao would have just pushed his sleeve and keep on his way, but it was y/n, a sleeping and fragile y/n. Xiao never thought of you as fragile, but recently he was always wary of his own strength when he was near you. And somehow, this situation had ignited that weird feeling on his chest again.

Xiao crouched down a bit and gently tried to pull his sleeve, he didn't want to risk waking you up, so as gently as a Yaksha could he grabbed your hand to move it to the side, and for some reason, even if adepti don’t feel hotness or cold, he was sure his face felt hotter than it should, how many years had it been since the last time he willingly had physical contact with someone? Back to the matter at hand, while Xiao was trying to put your hand away so he could remove his sleeve, somehow you had managed to grab his wrist instead, and when Xiao had finally freed his sleeve, it was now his arm that your hand was tugging into. He tried to move it out of there but you just pulled his wrist against you.

Now Xiao really needed to pull his arm out, he didn’t want to touch any part of your body without your consent. However when he slightly tried to move his arm out, you tugged him closer, fortunately, you pulled upwards, in the direction of your face. And even tho he let out a sigh of relief his face got more red than before once he felt your soft breath on the back of his fingers, his piercing eyes were wide as a scared cat, If you were to pull him an inch closer your lips would touch his fingers, so Xiao didn’t dare to move again.

————————

As the morning light began touching your eyelids, you slowly began waking up, shifting your body to the other side of the bed so the light wouldn’t hit your eyes, and stretching your body in a lazy way, after that you yawned and finally opened your eyes, still adjusting to the light you rubbed them a few times and slowly sat on your bed,” Good morning Xiao*Yawn*…!!!*cough cough* XIAO!?” only then did you notice there was a figure standing by your bedside, staring at you.”I- wh-what are you doing here??”

Xiao himself had only scaped from you some minutes ago, when you began waking up. He had just finished rubbing his still warm arm when you noticed him ”You are awake” he said in his usual tone. You slowly began getting up but before your foot touched the ground you began recalling what happened last night. “Oh dear Archon, how could have I said such things?? To Xiao nonetheless? ‘Don’t leave’??how come I said that!? Did Xiao really spend his night here??” You thought while trying to compose your messy clothes, failing a couple times before getting it right.

Amidst your thoughts, you head Xiao’s steps, and quickly turned to him in a weird way “ Ah-!Xiao, you shouldn’t have- hm? Xiao? what’s wrong with your face?” You slightly turned your head a bit to the side to see better a slight red shade in his face “Did he get bruised while fighting?” you thought.

However Xiao’s eyes narrowed a bit and he quickly turned to the door, his steps heavy, “Humph, we’re wasting time. Let’s go” and kept on walking his way. You were a bit surprised but quickly began walking fast to catch up with him, and even tho he wouldn’t turn his head to you no matter what, you could notice the tips of his ears a bit red. But you didn’t pry further on the matter.

The End

bonus

While both of you were walking down the stairs, Verr saw you two coming out of the same room, and when you looked at her you could only see her with a hand covering her mouth and her widen eyes silently following you two.

———————

Lol this was supposed to be HC kind of thing, but it became a whole 3k words oneshot XD

Anyway, I hope you liked it since this is my first time writing about Xiao, or anything in the “X Reader” category so I'm sorry if I did anything wrong.

I will try to keep my requests open, so feel free to go there

here uwu Requests

#genshin impact #xiao x reader #xiao #genshin impact x reader #genshin xiao #genshin x reader #xiao x lumine #xiao x aether #genshin xiao x reader #fanfic #oneshot #genshin impact headcanons #genshin headcanons #genshin impact xiao #xiao x traveler

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muertawrites · 4 years ago

Text

The Dark of the Moon (Zuko x Reader)

Summary: Late night insomnia turns into a conversation about love, and Zuko makes an interesting discovery about his feelings for you.

Word Count: 2,100

Author’s Note: You can thank Avatar being on Netflix and rekindling my childhood obsession for this one. I wrote this mostly as a dialogue / pacing exercise, but it’s also a bit therapeutic since I can actually relate to Zuko more than I realized or could have ever foreseen watching this show as a ten year old. Enjoy a little emotional romantic fantasy on behalf of a preteen crush and all the toxic friends I’ve ever had. ✌

~ Muerta

Zuko usually slept with you. It started one late night during a mutual bout of insomnia, in which you ran into him as you both wandered the halls of the Western Air Temple. You hardly knew him, but he sat with you and talked about everything that night - anything that wasn’t related to the war or either of your pasts that had been torn apart by it. He surprised you with his dry, even-toned sense of humor, as well as with his intelligence in not only combat but literature and philosophy as well; being a healer and a fortune teller by trade, you found a lot to talk about with him.

As the nights awake became more common, you and Zuko spent more of them together; sometimes you’d wait until you happened upon him in the halls, others one of you would designate a place to meet. Eventually, one of you would go directly to the other’s room and you’d sit, sharing whatever light or heavy thoughts happened to plague your minds. You learned a lot about him in those nights, and grew to feel proud of how far he’d come in such a short time - you often helped others, those much older than yourselves, over months to scale the internal struggles he had, and he’d managed to do so on his own. The more you gave to him, the more he gave back, and it soon became commonplace to fall asleep to the sound of his breathing as he lay in his sleeping bag on the other end of your room.

And that’s exactly what woke you up - the strange, still energy of your bedroom that indicated his resting place was empty. You rolled over, unable to spy his silhouette under the moonlit windowsill, and you rose, your feet carrying you to where you were certain he would be.

It was a gorgeous night, with a gentle breeze ruffling the crisp air. You found Zuko in the courtyard, gazing out over the fog veiled landscape under the swell of the full moon. Without a word, you sat beside him, watching the clouds roll by like ships on a silent ocean. His chest churned in turmoil, so intensely you could feel it in your own.

“Apparently, I can’t sleep without you anymore,” you said. “How selfish of you to have problems that keep you up at night.”

Zuko huffed out a soft chuckle, though the weight in his chest didn’t lift. He leaned back onto his palms, craning his neck backward and allowing the wind to tousle his ash-black hair.

“You didn’t need to come out here,” he told you gently. “It’s not your job to help me fix myself.”

“It never has been,” you replied. “I’ve never fixed anyone. All I ever do is listen and recite a few proverbs; everyone comes to their own conclusions in the end.”

“That’s not true,” Zuko retorted. “I’ve seen you heal. You can do things not even Katara can do, just with whatever happens to be growing nearby. It’s incredible.”

You smiled, your heart fluttering in your chest.

“Physical healing and emotional healing are two super different things,” you told him. “Emotional wounds can only really be healed by the people who have them. I mean, unless you want me to crack open your chest and poke around at your heart for a little while.”

Zuko chuckled again, the tenseness of his muscles easing up just slightly. He opened his palm and spawned a softly glowing flame, both of you watching it flicker in the cool night air.

“I wish I’d been born a water bender,” he mused. “Something that would do good for others. All fire does is destroy.”

You were silent for a moment, watching the thoughts swirl, tormented, behind his eyes. You thought of all the times you’d seen him smile, how his happiness made his handsome features all the more radiant and caused your stomach to bubble with joy. The memory shot a spike through your chest.

“... You know, we only ever see one part of the moon,” you commented, breaking the quiet. “Everything behind that - the dark side - we don’t really consider, even though it’s always there and is as much a part of the moon as the side that’s in front of us.”

Zuko smirked at you, distinguishing the flame in his hand.

“Reciting a proverb at me?” he teased.

You grinned.

“This one’s more like a metaphor,” you admitted cheekily. “That tea I make, the one that tastes awful but makes pain completely disappear?”

Zuko nodded.

“I need fire to make it,” you continued. “I have to roast the ingredients over an open flame before boiling them. Without fire, I couldn’t do most of my healing; it would be too painful without the tea to help.”

Zuko said nothing, but you could sense your words sinking into the cracks in his troubled thinking.

“Fire is heat and light,” you added. “It’s just as important to life as water or earth or air. Every element is capable of destruction or creation - there isn’t a single one that’s inherently good or bad. The person that controls them is the only one who determines that.”

There was another long pause, in which you busied yourself noting the different wild plants growing between the stones that paved the courtyard. You listed the different medicines you could make with each, the process calming you.

“I’ve done some pretty shitty things to people I care about in order to embrace my goodness,” Zuko finally spat. The bitterness in his tone stung you. You turned to him, and for a split second you caught a familiar, rageful glimmer in his eye; the sight made your own temper flare.

“Zuko, don’t do that to yourself,” you said. “It wasn’t just your father who hurt you and you know that.”

“I know,” he snapped, cutting off the end of your words. “I still care about her, though. I don’t even know if she really ever cared about me, but I still… I still miss her.”

Your ribs seemed to cave in, crushing your heart and lungs. He’d told you about Mai many times, and all you ever saw was that the darkness in her drew out the darkness in him; it even hung over you, clouding out the comfort you felt with Zuko and replacing it with unease and doubt. You feared there was no place in his heart for you - not while Mai still remained in it, no matter how badly her memory made him bleed.

“It’s hard,” you choked out. “I still miss some of the people who hurt me, too.”

That was all you could manage to say. You pulled your knees to your chest, half-burying your face in the fabric of your night dress as you forced the tears welling in the corners of your eyes not to flow.

This is what you get, you scolded yourself. This is what you get for feeling things for people you know could never feel the same about you.

A sensation of warmth curling around your shoulders made you jolt. Instinctively, you inched away, glancing in Zuko’s direction as he retracted the arm that had draped around you. You expected him to look away, but he didn’t - his pale amber eyes instead locked with yours.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “You hold your head so high… I forget sometimes that you’re trying to heal, too.”

His words caused your tears to spill, though you didn’t cry; your face remained stony, and no sobs shook you. Your tears fell as easily as water from a cliff’s edge, impeded by nothing but the will of gravity.

“... The cards you lent me,” Zuko said after a pause, almost blurting the words. “I’ve been reading them, to help me let go of everything I left behind. I don’t think I’m doing it right.”

A few weeks ago, you’d given him a deck of cards you used for fortune telling. Each card depicted a different object, element, or scene, and were laid out in combinations that gave insight into a person’s spiritual path. You liked them more than other forms of fortune telling, as it encouraged its readers to make their own assumptions and drive their own fates instead of having it simply told to them. You gave your deck to Zuko so he could reflect on something finite, instead of getting consumed by his own thoughts. It was exactly what you used them for, and you knew they would help.

“Why?” you asked softly.

“I drew a card that didn’t make sense,” he told you. “I laid down the Tides, then the Crossed Blades, and then… I pulled the Badger Mole. The other two I understand - one is for movement and change, the other is for strength in allies, but I… can’t figure out what the Badger Mole is supposed to mean.”

“Badger moles are strong, powerful,” you explained, speaking dispassionately from memory, “but they’re gentle. The card represents the duality of both. They mate for life, too, so it also represents love and companionship.”

As you spoke, you felt a meteor crash between you and Zuko. His face fell, dumbfounded, as he looked at you, his eyes darting minutely back and forth as you watched the pieces mend together in his head.

“What do you feel?” you whispered, part of you terrified of his answer.

“... I feel like I’m fighting the tide,” Zuko replied, his tone awestruck. “It’s pushing me to shore, but I keep trying to swim back out to sea.”

The corners of your lips curled upwards slightly, your cheeks still sticky with tears.

“It’s really scary, huh?” you said. “Loving another person.”

“Yeah... especially when you’ve never known what it feels like before,” Zuko added softly.

You reached out, tentatively resting your palm against his cheek. His hand rose to close over yours, the sensation trembling you to your core.

“How many times have you pulled the Badger Mole?” you asked.

“Every time,” Zuko breathed. “I’m so stupid for not realizing. You make me feel wild and calm all at once. I get this crushing feeling in my chest when I see you or even think of you, and I thought it was just fear or sadness. But… you don’t make me want to lash out like I used to, with my father and Azula and Mai… just the thought of you makes me want to be the best person I can be. Even though I know you already accept me for not being that person.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, somewhat defeatedly, your knees falling away from your chest and crossing in front of you. Your body was heavy, but your head felt light.

“I love you, Zuko,” you murmured. “But I’m afraid.”

Zuko wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. His forehead fell to rest against yours, his eyes closing as he steadied his erratic breathing.

“If you’re scared, I’ll protect you,” he said quietly. “That’s what I think lovers are supposed to do.”

The word made every organ in your body jump to your throat. Lovers. Your limbs felt weak, but your heart felt strong with Zuko holding you.

Without thinking, you took his face in your hands and kissed him. It wasn’t hard and passionate like you expected, but firm, gentle, his lips pressing to yours like two palms grasped in an assuring embrace. He lay one of his large, able hands on the back of your neck, his thumb tenderly stroking your skin.

When you finally broke apart, Zuko gazed at you with a soft, forlorn expression. His fingers reached to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I’m sorry I talk about her so much,” he said. “It must kill you.”

You shook your head, a soft smile forming on your lips, still red from where Zuko had kissed them.

“Don’t worry about it,” you told him. “I know some people from my past you’d happily drive a knife into.”

Zuko chuckled, the light, airy smile you saw when he was truly happy spreading to each of his cheeks. The spike that drove itself through your heart when you thought of it earlier was gone, replaced by the sweet warmth of a low flame on a cold night. With him, you were safe.

“Let’s get some sleep,” Zuko suggested, taking your arm to help you stand.

His hand slipped easily into yours, your fingers twining together. He leaned forward and kissed you again, his lips only grazing yours, causing your skin to buzz with the sensation.

“... Do you think we’ll have to talk to Aang about this?” you asked as you walked back to your room.

Zuko raised an eyebrow at you, confused.

“He is your great-grandfather,” you elaborated with jest. “I should probably do the chivalrous thing and ask for his blessing or something.”

Zuko laughed, nudging you with his shoulder so that you stumbled over your feet. You shoved him back, to which he took you by the waist and wrapped you tightly in his arms, kissing your cheek.

“He probably won’t care,” he replied. “But my uncle will love you.”

#muerta's works #zuko #zuko x reader #zuko x you #prince zuko #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko x you #zuko fanfic #prince zuko fanfic #atla fanfic #avatar fanfiction #self insert fanfiction #lmao when you don't know how to end a fic

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lawslessons · 4 years ago

Text

Stamina Training (Zoro x Reader)

S in the NSFW alphabet! Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: slight NSFW, teasing

Synopsis: Zoro gets a little more than he bargained for when he trains with his crew member. Well, he trained and they watched… they really watched.

“What’s the longest you’ve exercised?” They asked Zoro as they took another sip of their coffee and watched the swordsman exercise with a small smile on their face. The swordsman didn’t look over at them, he was too focused on the set of weights he was doing. He let out a small grunt of exertion when he thrusted his arms down with the heavy weight in his hands. His face and chest were gleaning with sweat, he looked sinful in that moment, like a statue of a demon come to life. His skin was like smooth marble and the scars especially stood out on his smooth physique. The way he wiped the sweat off of his brow and the way he sighed sounded like a wanton prayer. They heard it all, they had to even confess that the sight of him alone was sinful. Their mind began to wander as their eyes glanced down the swordsman’s body and watched as his muscles tensed and rippled with every movement he made.

“The longest? Why do you want to know?” Zoro asked as he put the weights down and moved to go to the pull up bar and use one of his hands to pull his body up while he silently counted to himself. They stared even more, they watched as Zoro’s abdominal muscles flexed and rippled with tension when he pulled himself up and how they relaxed when he let himself finally go down. They watched as Zoro’s eye scrunched with concentration and how the vein on his arm jutted out as he effortlessly lifted himself up.

“I just want to know, do I really need a reason?” They asked, a small pout formed on their lips which Zoro did not miss. The swordsman scoffed and paused his exercise as he tried to think about it. Zoro watched as their small pout turned into a smirk and how they were slowly drinking the coffee Sanji made for them. Just knowing that the chef made that for them elicited a sense of rage inside him.

“Fifty hours straight was one of my longer sessions, I wanted to get stronger,” Zoro explained, but they already knew that. After all, that was all Zoro wanted to do, all he seemed to want to do was get stronger and stronger. But that also enticed something inside of them, a small smirk came onto their face and they moved closer to where Zoro was working out and chuckled. Zoro watched as they carefully approached him and how they looked him over, they weren’t even trying to hide the fact that they wanted Zoro and he found that very amusing.

“What about your stamina?” They asked as they watched him resume his work out, the swordsman looked over at them in confusion as he pulled himself up on the bar. He softly smiled at them and had to think about it, he wasn’t stupid, he knew what was happening.

“Good? I don’t know what you mean.” But oh, he did know, “If that’s all you came here to talk about, leave. I’m busy.” Zoro said with a small grunt as he exerted himself to go up further on the bar. They could see Zoro’s muscles shaking as he held himself up, the amount of raw strength the swordsman had fascinated them. The tension he held in his jaw as he clenched his teeth to hold back his sounds also caught their eye.

“Ouch, you know what I mean,” they said as they stepped a little closer. The swordsman rose a brow and watched their movements carefully, the way their hips moved, the look on their face… what were they plotting now? His eye was caught on the way they started to play with the mug in their hands, did they understand how angry it made him to see that damned mug?

“I don’t.”

“Think about it, Zoro. What other stamina could I be talking about?” They asked. The swordsman paused and thought about it. And when he finally realized what they were asking, he gasped and nearly fell off of the bar with red cheeks. Reality slapped him across the face and the poor swordsman didn’t know how to process that for a minute. While he had a basic idea of what they were talking about, the fact that they basically admitted it to him shocked him and made his heart race uncomfortably in his chest.

“That? Why do you want to know about that? What are you thinking about?” Zoro asked as he tried to get back to working out, but his mind was beginning to wander and his heart was beginning to thump hard against his chest. The sweat on his body wasn’t from just working out anymore, there was more behind it and just looking at them made his hands clammy.

“Thinking about you,” They innocently shrugged with a teasing smile, the look on Zoro’s face was priceless. The sweating, panting swordsman was at a loss for words in that moment. Zoro’s jaw relaxed and tensed as he tried to think of something to say to get them to stop teasing him like this.

“Shut up,” Zoro snapped as he dropped off the bar and sized the person in front of him up. He glared down at them and watched as their smirk seemed to only widen at Zoro’s reaction. That smirk made him nervous, he didn’t like how they seemed to have so much control over him.

“Make me,” They challenged. Zoro’s eye darkened and he grabbed them by the neck and pushed them against the wall while glaring down at them. The mug in their hand fell to the ground and shattered, perfect. He smirked when he saw them tense at the sight of the broken mug on the ground.

“I don’t think I want you to shut up then,” Zoro said as he lifted their leg up and hooked it around his waist so he could press closer to them while he continued to glare. “I want you to scream so loud that the entire ocean knows who’s doing you,” Zoro said as he roughly dug his nails into their thigh and smirked when he heard them hiss at the small sting of his nails. He watched as they started to breathe harder and knew that he was finally able to get control over them.

“What about your stamina?” They breathily asked as they looked up at him with hooded eyes, Zoro took that look in and smirked before he pulled back and left them against the wall. They watched him walk away in disbelief while also trying to process what all just happened.

“I don’t think you deserve to know that,” Zoro said as he went back to the bar and pulled himself up and watched as they sat down against the wall and tried to catch their breath with a shocked look on their face.

“Tease,” they pouted while the swordsman continued with his workout. He chuckled and glanced over at them and smirked.

“Don’t push it, if I wanted to I could keep you here all week,” Zoro said which made them raise a brow.

“What if that was what I wanted?” They asked.

“Maybe one day, I need to train right now,” Zoro said before he looked over at them again. They were standing up and began to walk over to him with that same sway in their hips, that seemed to catch his attention.

“Why don’t you train something else?” They suggested which made the swordsman a little flustered, but he did a good job in hiding it. He rolled his eyes and finally got off of the bar and looked down at them.

“You’re talking too much today, if you’re gonna talk I’m gonna need you to put your mouth to good use,” Zoro stated as he eyed them up and down.

“Bet you won’t even last a minute,” they teased as they went onto their knees for him, Zoro glared down at them and forced them to look up at him by yanking their head back by their hair.

“Didn’t I tell you to get to work or to beat it?” Zoro frowned as he pushed his hips closer to their mouth. Just as he was about to get what he wanted, there was a knock on the door.

“Oi, it’s time for dinner” Usopp said from behind the door. Zoro frowned at that and let go of their hair and listened to the footsteps go away from the training room.

“We’ll continue this later,” Zoro grumbled as he grabbed his shirt and slipped it back on with a small frown on his face.

“You seem to have a lot of stamina, but no patience,” they teased. Zoro glared at them and tossed his sweaty towel over at them.

“Shut up.”

320 notes · View notes

hysteriium · 4 years ago

Text

𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑩𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑩𝒍𝒖𝒆;

(𝐆𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞)

(𝐀/𝐧 ): This is the first I’ve posted in ages!!! I can’t recall how long it’s been, life has truly been hectic but I’m getting back on the saddle!!! We’re starting with my boi! I hope you enjoy it as much as I had fun writing this! I’ve been experimenting with the way he talks so it’s not as overt as I’ve previously written! I feel like the intonations may break the flow a bit so I’ve tried to make it more cohesive! Lmk what you guys think! Also shout out to my amazing partner @lilliryth they’re the light of my life and helped me edit this!! They’re such an amazing person and I would not be where I am today without them.

( 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ): Wedding. That is all. It’s not what you think.

( 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ): DK! Joker x Reader.

( 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ): 7,600+ k words!

( 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ): Angst (very little), swearing, violence.

The first time you’d asked, he simply stared in disbelief.

“Come again?” The bright red hues of confusion painted his husky voice.

The question had been wreaking havoc in your thoughts for the past month, unsure of how to slip out from ambiguity onto the sureness of the tongue. Such a bold yet silly little request was sure to be large and repugnant to the man hovering above you. While the darkness of his eyes was accentuated by his stygian greasepaint, hints of cocoa peeked through, prompting shy flutters of anxiety in your abdomen.

You can do this.

Your tongue slid across the arid cracks of your lips, wetting them. You cleared your throat, “I need a date to a wed–”

That was all you could get out before he blinked a few times and strode off.

The second time, albeit similar in difficulty, thankfully didn’t result in him running.

You tiptoed into his makeshift office with an air of mischief, his room sombre except for the lamp that spotlighted his desk. Hunched over blueprints which you suspected were his next big scheme, his eyes never drifted from the intricacies on the paper.

“Boo!” You shouted, catching his hips with an unbreakable hold when you closed the distance. While his body tensed, he couldn’t control the breath of amusement that left his nose.

“I can see you really tried there.”

You knew he followed your stare when his long fingers worked to roll the sheet. They were fast – so fast the pinched ends stuck out in layered rings that almost resembled winding mountainous trails. He couldn’t have curious eyes ogling his extra top secret will-have-to-kill-you-if-you-found-out criminal plans, now could he?

“What?” you started, while your hands fell and your footsteps whispered away from him. You felt the creases of your mouth wobble, ready to smile at any moment, and so you bit the inside of your tongue. “Don’t you trust me?”

“No,” he smirked, petting your head.

Curse his height.

“Now, uh, what is it, doll?”

You let your smile leap free, “I need to ask a super dooper big fav–”

“I’m not going.”

“But whyyyyyy? My parents are harassing me! They think their daughter’s going to grow old and grey and be alone forever.”

“Gee, I can’t imagine why.”

You shot him a look, one that only fuelled his amusement.

“J, I can’t just not show up.”

You watched his figure rise slightly as he drew and released a breath.

“I don’t like wed–” his tongue stuck out like he’d tasted something bad before he cleared his throat “–dings, they’re full of false hope, drunks and...” he shuddered, “romance. You see, they’ll end up killing each other in a few years. I can picture it now: dearly beloved wife kills cheating husband. Oh how could this have ever happened?”

He scoffed.

“You’re so dramatic. I promise it would only be for a few hours.”

“And pumpkin, how exactly are you gonna sneak me into a… place like that when I look like this,” he said, hands motioning to his face – mostly his scars.

It broke your heart. You could've sworn you heard it splinter, the downturn of your brows impossible to hold back. If only words were enough to convey complex feelings, to convey the pile of bricks nestled in your chest, to convey the desperate crave to comfort and rebut, the need to protect – even from himself. You had yet to find a way, and so you were stuck behind the thick lock and chain of language with no key in sight; restricted and bound to tools you never thought were enough, but could only hope were enough.

“Hey,” you whispered, reaching up to cup his face. In his eyes you saw the emotions flicker, almost as tangible as they were transparent – anger, fear, shock. Stood still and stiff, you nodded softly, giving him a smile of equal warmth. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

He squinted before hesitantly giving in, shifting so his cheek rested against your palm. He had to lower himself a little more to do so.

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with how you look. They’re beautiful, and I’ll keep saying so until there’s no breath left in my lungs.”

You held him ever so gently while he flitted his eyes shut. Your heart galloped then, its swell too big for your body and for a moment, brief as the breeze, the chaos he prided himself in was absent; for a moment there was peace.

“If you weren’t The Joker, I’d say go as is. Though, I have a plan!”

“Oh, do you now?” He said, shaking his head and returning to work. It was clear he was rapidly reaching his patience threshold.

Damn it.

“They have food!” You trailed off unsurely, as if it was a question – pinning your last hope on appealing to his raccoon inclinations.

It didn’t work.

The third, well…

You had just about given up and accepted the fact that it wasn’t his scene, that him meeting your parents would never be an option – a reality you had started to think of as a good thing the more you thought about it.

And so, the third day had been your acceptance. Self-care. Instead of chasing after an ideal, your hands were clutching a book, almost too hard, as the part you had been anticipating since very early had reached its finale. With your legs curled underneath you and practically asleep, your eyes flicked furiously from word to word–

That is until a looming figure shadowed the page completely, concealing all light from the lamp next to you.

Annoyance creased your features as you looked up at the clownish culprit. Your eyes met and a staring contest ensued, the intensity of his eyes beckoning a response until he, uncharacteristically, broke first.

“Will this make you, uh, happy?”

All traces of irritation were washed away by bewilderment, “sorry?”

“My being with you.”

“You mean to the wedding?” You asked, wide-eyed. If you hadn’t been as shocked as you were, you would have snorted at his continuous inability to say the word ‘wedding’.

He shifted on his feet, eyes darting away for a second before he licked his lips. “Yeah.”

“Is this a joke?”

“I’m not that cruel.”

You paused to hum obnoxiously, your finger tapping your chin to challenge the notion.

“Never mind,” he waved his hand in the air and was about to walk off before you grabbed his hand and sprung off your seat. You felt him try to wiggle out of your grasp with a grunt, but it was too late. “Thank you!” You shouted.

You missed the way his surprise melted into a genuine curl of his lips, twitching; the muscles unused. Instead, you were too busy stuffed in his vest, with your arms swathed around him. You both stayed there for a while basking in the warmth of each other, as his hands, which you guessed were hanging awkwardly in the air and unsure of what to do, encircled your waist.

Third time’s the charm.

Shaking fingers twirled sapphire silk, gliding over your cinched waist before finally moving up to the delicate exposed flesh of your neck. You glanced over the spaghetti straps that curved comfortably over your shoulder, and the simple silver circle necklace that laid between them, its chilled presence clashing with the heat of your skin.

Knock knock knock!

“Just a minute!” You said, jumping at the sudden rude intrusion.

“Not even funeral parlors take this long,” you heard J say from the other side, the distinctive departure of footsteps following promptly. They seemed faster than usual.

You puffed air at his complaint after calming your racing heart. Then you scrambled to finish up the final touches of makeup, at last winding the nude colored ribbons of your heels around your calves. Your head felt light, and your shoes only worsened the sudden gelatinous state your legs took on. Never before had you dressed up in such a way, not for years and much less in front of someone you dearly cherished. The line between fashionable and laughable was blurred and never truly had been exercised. Waving away the fuel your anxious thoughts provided, you decided to try and move. Your heels wobbled trying to avoid the flowing material pooled by your ankles, and you’d just managed to slip one foot out through the thigh-high slit. No matter how much you sighed, the pressure remained, weighing like an anvil. And so, with nothing much to lose, you made your way to the door; the dampness of your fingers leaving its foggy signature upon the knob.

This was it.

You breathed in one last time before opening the door.

“Okay, I’m re–”

You exhaled sharply, feeling the earlier intake of air leave you – taking with it the remaining wind in your lungs. You couldn’t control the twinkle of your eyes, nor the flip of your stomach as you gazed upon him.

His form was angled against the wall and his arms were crossed – that was, until he dragged his eyes over to you. His limbs then dropped to their sides and he quickly, almost stumbling over his shoes, righted his position. The bob of his Adam's apple was clear while both of you stood meters from each other with widened eyes. You knew he had the ability to pull off a suit, but the royal blue he donned was stunning. The stark colour complemented his blond locks, while his foulard tie with its blends of pinks, purples, and its navy base matched his socks.

It seemed you were both in the same boat, consumed by swells of giddiness and the need to fidget. The fingers that were dressed in dark brown leather gloves drummed against his thigh, while one of his cedar suede shoes tapped furiously against the floor.

“What.” He finally stated, rather than questioning.

You dropped the necklace your fingers had started circling.

“Nothing! You just look… really nice,” you uttered earnestly, unable to contain the sweet smile that broke through awe.

“Yeah, yeah. Uh… you too,” he said, the last part coming out less steady.

He avoided eye contact when you trotted over to him, fiddling with his cufflinks, though his tending to them immediately vanished when you began to accentuate the swish of your hips.

All fidgeting stopped.

You were sure he was expecting something else, rather than the delicate cupping of his cheek once you reached him, soft lips meeting with roughened skin as you kissed his scars. You took your time with each one, whispering affection, before claiming his mouth. He growled against you, and you could feel him tighten his hold.

The tip of his tongue traced the stain of lipstick, a wordless demand for entry which left you weak. Almost parting your lips to allow the gentle slide of his tongue, he suddenly reared back with a smirk.

“Peach,” he cooed.

You were going to have to reapply later.

With a small smile you extended your arm to the couch, and knowing time was beginning to pass, he complied. As he advanced, you peeked at the orange lining in his blazer. The hue was similar to his purple coat, though slightly lighter. You smiled to yourself, the small detail so characteristically him.

“Alright. Let’s get this over with,” he sighed, bracing himself.

Already a step ahead, you had brought out the makeup needed just prior to getting dressed. Sitting on one of the nearby surfaces, you picked up a small translucent bag with little red hearts on it – a fact he’d snickered to himself at when he first saw it – and walked over to him.

“As you wish, grumpy,” you simpered, “now hold still!”

True to his new title, you heard him mutter something unintelligible under his breath. The tap-tap-tap of his foot against the floor was most of the noise for a good while, and although distracting, the fidgeting of his hands was less noisy. You knew more than anyone he needed to squirm around, some movement at the very least, and so you endured. You deduced that he’d not been this close to someone in so very long, let alone allow them to do his makeup. That task, intimate and personal within itself, was not something others could be trusted with.

“Time to hide these little guys,” you murmured, focused as the beauty blender sat between your fingers and dabbed on concealer. “Not that they need hiding. I’ll miss them.”

“Really?” He chimed in, eyes shut while you did your work.

“Yeah, they’re a part of you and I’d never want you to hide or be ashamed of who you are.”

“Hmm,” he trailed off.

Occasionally his mouth quirked, his tongue darting out to lick his scars; an involuntary movement. You were patient, and even if he wasn’t overt about his guilt of messing up your progress, you reassured him lightly with a kiss on the head, sometimes playing with the dirty blond waves that lacked any sign of green.

The day before he’d washed out the colour in preparation for the big day, groaning until he caught sight of himself in the mirror; contemplative. Ethereal and almost delicate he seemed. How precious it was to witness such cracks in the fortress, where the basking rays of sun illuminated what once was �� and still is, only shrouded by shrubbery and thorns, so overgrown and disordered that they had forgotten to take care of even themselves. Forgotten how.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he groaned as you finished blending the concealer on both cheeks. Grabbing the foundation you had colour matched, you dabbed a bit on your hand before applying that too.

“Honestly, me neither,” you replied, feeling no need to sugarcoat the shock from your tone. You knew he appreciated the truth. “But I’m glad you are! You’re doing so well!”

He squirmed a little at the compliment but settled seconds later. Soon after finishing the blending, you reared back and observed your labour. Although it wasn’t perfect, and if you looked hard enough you could still see the intricate crevices in his skin, it passed.

“All done!”

As soon as you spoke, J pushed off his palms. He was halfway off the chair when you stopped him.

“Wait! I have to walk you through something.”

At this, his eyebrows quirked up. You knew you had his attention.

“Conditions!” You announced.

“Ah. Now there are conditions.”

“Yes! I don’t want you to throw a tantrum and blow up the whole reception.”

“My my, aren’t you a little fire stopper.”

“Promise me.”

He flicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. With one hand on his chest and the other raised just next to his head, he bowed a little. “I swear.”

You wrinkled your nose, “I swear there will be no funny business, and I’ll be on my best behaviour – oh and no crossing your toes either!”

“You know me so well,” he sighed, admitting defeat, “Fine. I swear there’ll be no funny business and I’ll be on…” he cleared his throat and brought a closed fist to his mouth, “my best behaviour.” Then he shone his impishly wide grin, one that only intensified the pit of doubt in your stomach.

It would have to do, though.

“Okay,” you whispered.

He stood up now, towering over you.

“Okay,” he mimicked, dropping his hands at the base of your hips.

The last few days had been full of surprises, his agreement to attend trumping all. However, his overt display of affection was a close second. Never before had he been so forthcoming and so comfortable with physical contact.

As his hands laid there, unmoving and making their home in your curves, you inched closer to him; a specific craving only his warmth could ease. Though, those very same hands around you tightened when you tried to step forward, holding you in place. Curiously, you looked up at him, brows furrowed.

“What are you–”

It seemed he couldn’t help himself. The evil laughter he’d been trying to restrain bubbled from his throat and bounced off the walls. The eagerness to ask what he was doing quickly died – hard – when you could no longer feel the ground beneath your feet. It instead morphed into protests and occasional bouts of laughter as your arms dangled along his back, your pelvis against his shoulder. One gloved hand rested crudely just below the curve of your ass, occasionally squeezing your upper thigh and holding you in place, while his other arm hung unobstructed.

“We–” he clicked his tongue, “–wouldn’t want to be late now, would we?” He finished, purring.

The location was a couple hours outside of Gotham on the coastline in an area you’d practically never heard of. If it wasn’t for J’s gift for navigation, and his frustration when you kept leading him down wrong turns, you would have been hours late instead of just missing the ceremony. The last straw had been assuring him the early exit was your turn off despite his gut instinct, despite the countless times he asked ‘are you sure?’ and despite his sneaking glances – something he stopped doing when he almost crashed into the car next to you, too focused on craning his neck. All of this combined had resulted in the brutal demise of your map reading days.

Stopping where he could after taking the wrong exit he held out a gloved hand, a wordless demand for the navigator. Before long, you were back on the freeway, thankfully heading the right way. The directory rested in his lap as he balanced the seemingly breezy tasks of reading and driving.

Clearly safety was his middle name.

Once the two of you arrived at the venue, the first thing you both noticed was the heat. Warm and uncomfortable, the seabreeze made this bearable. The next notable feature was the rambunctious clamour of the crowd; music, laughter and shouting.

After worming your way out of the van, comically wedged between two much smaller cars, you headed towards the reception, stopping short from the asphalt-sand border. J stared at it as if it had foiled his genius villainous plots, as if it was the cause of all his misfortunes, as if it was responsible for the brutal murder of his first pet. Then, he made a face – a mixture between a scowl and disgust.

He sniffed, “it smells like...” he paused to grimace, “high society.”

The ghastly look was then directed ahead to each moving – breathing – organism he could see. There was no doubt in your mind the crowd had already made it on his hit list.

“For once I miss the stink of Gotham.”

“Well at least it’s at the beach!” You exclaimed, not recalling the last time you’d been. Trying to think that far back made your brain hurt, the tingle of overworked cogs and Brain Fog a lethal combination that coerced your forfeit in seconds. At the very least you were happy to be making new memories, hopefully some you’d be able to remember in the future; memories you prayed were not, later too, guarded by the merciless Brain Fog and his ravenous desire to generate headaches.

“I hate the beach,” J delivered flatly, hatred distilled rolling off his person in waves.

“Oh, you hate everything!” You pouted, brushing off his pessimism.

“It’s hard not to.”

“Well…” You stopped to think, wracking your brain to prove him wrong, “what about me?”

That had to get him.

“You especially,” he grinned, eyes twinkling with a mischief that spoke nothing other than ‘you walked right into that one, sweetheart.’

You were unable to help the sigh that sailed past your hued lips, “well, come on sunshine. You can’t stare daggers at them all day.”

“I can try,” he spat sourly.

You rolled your eyes and dragged him along but immediately dropped the act when you quickly realised it hauled unwanted eyes, like metal to magnets. Yet, J followed even though you were certain he saw the cursed asphalt-sand barrier as the very gates of hell themselves. In fact, he seemed a little bit too eager to start his anathematised exploration of the 9 circles as when you looked back, expecting to see his long limbs hanging in defeated protest, you were met with, well, nothing.

One moment he was there, the next he was gone seemingly stalking off into the unknown, hiding among the sea of people. It wasn’t like he was easy to lose either, his height and his aura of absolute discomfort is what set him apart from the rest. He protruded like a broken bone – so why couldn’t you find him?

“Damn it, J!” You harshly whispered to yourself, unknowingly stamping your foot until the insidious specks of sand tumbled their way into your shoe, under your feet and between your toes. Easily conquering your layer of protection, their coarse presence made you want to grind your teeth.

Maybe this was a mistake.

Before you could go off and search for the lost irritating puppy, you heard shouts. At first they seemed like ordinary yells, distinctive deviations from the crowd which happened to catch your attention at the right moment. Though, the more time passed and you wandered around like a newborn giraffe looking for its mother, you realised this was not the case. Most telling was the way those vague cries morphed into the familiar syllables of your name. And then finally in view, the supposed sweet comfort of childhood embodied neared; their worn features staring into your own, different from all those years ago.

You fought the urge to run.

“Hey honey!” Your dad beamed.

Two pairs of smothering arms made their way toward you, enveloping. With your fingers clutching separate materials, each as scratchy and glacial as each other, your head started to spin and you felt yourself holding your breath.

“Hey mum, hey dad, it’s nice to see you two again,” you said, feeling the slow ache from clenching your jaw starting to set in. You quickly swapped this expression for a small smile when they released you.

“How’ve you been?” Your dad inquired, the shimmer in his eyes a sight you couldn’t help but double take at. You noticed there was no glass in his hand.

“Don’t bombard her dear,” your mum rolled her eyes, “where’s this date you were telling me about?”

She lingered on the word with an emotion you couldn’t quite discern while her adjudicating eyes swept over your outfit. Her eyebrows then lifted, scrunching her nose with it. “Not bad.”

Her scanning forced you to shrink into yourself, the automatic motion of your palms relentless in their pursuit of wrinkles, a fact you did not pick up on until your mother cleared her throat at your unprompted staring contest.

“My question dear, it’s rude to ignore your mother,” her thin brows creased and the folds just above them rested along her forehead in a similar fashion.

You scrambled for an acceptable answer, the question just as ambiguous to yourself.

“He’s… um… getting us drinks! I was actually just about to go check up on–”

“Well if a man can’t even fetch you a drink he’s hardly useful,” she scoffed, turning to her husband to whisper, “can’t imagine what this prince charming looks like.”

Anger, lava-like and boiling, rose up in your throat. The pressure seemed unbearable as you tried to keep your mouth closed – tried not to defend the one you loved with your entire being. How dare she judge someone she had yet to even meet? She had yet to see the beauty that radiated in and out.

It had only been minutes and you’d already been zapped of your energy for the day.

“I think I should go check on him now.” “Yes, of course. Come back to me when you have something to show,” your mother smiled. You watched her lips stretch, her wine lipstick as pigmented as the red coating your vision.

Her hand clutched the necklace around her chest. Her fingers traced the glistening diamond which hung overtly, screaming it’s pricelessness to all passersby as she went to go have another sip of her champagne. At the corner of your eye you noticed movement, a pair of worn hands clutching suit pants. Hard. You turned automatically and when you met his eyes your dad shot you a strained smile. It almost looked like an apology.

Your stomach turned.

You tried your best to conceal the stomping as you promptly departed, promising yourself to at least wait until you were out of their view and blending in with the crowd. Once you merged with the patches, you quickly discovered that navigating your way out of it was going to be just as hard as trying to find J. Left and right amalgamated, looking the same no matter how many times you tried to compare differences and so did everyone’s outfits. You could have sworn you’d seen the same red dress three times, though you also could have sworn you went all different directions to the last; the truth was you were no more knowing than a sailor stranded at sea lacking a compass, the same indistinguishable shapelessness stretching out for miles and miles with no end in sight.

Then, a miracle – a clearing of people which shrieked hope and a long portable table with flowing white lace harbouring all kinds of food. Amongst the good news, a blotch of royal blue caught your eye and a flash of blond. Focusing your view on the table and its few inhabitants, one of which was the blue wearing stranger, you quickly realised your missing date was fixed and firm in place at the snack area. No sooner than this revelation processed you dashed over, the anger returning once the relief had run its fleeting course. As you stormed your way over to him he failed to look up, too preoccupied with the food he was collecting. Lacking in subtlety, you grabbed his arm.

“Jesus there you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!”

J, who had been waiting to stuff his face with what you identified as another cupcake, mouth ringed with strawberry frosting, crumbs and sprinkles, dropped it in surprise and turned to you with widened eyes. They shrunk as soon as they showed an inkling of surprise and instead shifted to speckled guilt.

“Cupcake,” he managed to mumble with a full mouth.

Your fiery frustration was immediately put out by how cute he was, and you felt a surge of guilt yourself. It wasn’t fair to be taking out your personal frustrations on him.

After closing your eyes and taking a breath, you reset.

“They think I’m lying about you.”

He swallowed.

“You wanna leave? I, uh, know I want to,” he said much louder than the whisper you wish he’d used.

Such a comment warranted an elbow jab into his waist as you smiled ear to ear and sickly sweet at the passing guest who had clearly heard J. The middle aged woman with short brunette hair, white pom-pom earrings and beady eyes shot you two a blazing look before rutting her nose into the air. The reek of pretension wafted off her. Now you could see what J was saying earlier.

Pee-yew.

Everyone here sucked.

“I’m gonna kill her later,” he murmured, squinting after her.

“J, you promised to be good!”

Even if she was a grandiloquent old bitch who deserved it.

His ominous response was to pour himself some punch, the clown-in-disguise bringing the plastic up to his lips. As the cup masked most of his face, the only thing visible was his deadly gaze which bounced from congregation to congregation.

“How much longer.” Again, it wasn’t phrased as a question, more a statement.

“The bride and groom haven’t even danced yet.”

He scrunched his nose, though dropped the subject. At least verbally.

“You’re so crabby. You do know that you’re drawing even more attention to yourself this way?”

“Hmmph.”

It was silent for a few minutes before, without warning, he grabbed your hand. The hesitant and jagged strokes of his thumb followed and even though they belonged to a novice, the delicacy was still there.

The message was clear:

I’m new to this.

Your lips upturned, the gentle quirk hidden by transient hair flowing along the salty breeze. His touch was warm and paradoxically amiable; his presence a shelter cutting the chilly current that had picked up around noon. Stained lips, of which you had forgotten about until the sticky residue imprinted boldly on his glove, aimed to ease his buzzing mind. Expecting a grumble for the lipstick mark, what you got in return was the soft gaze of dark brown eyes – a sign of taming raging waters. He didn’t seem to mind, in fact the window into his soul for once could be identified as just that – a window; crystal, without the dirtied stains of camouflage and trepidation.

Something had changed.

Before you could get another word in, it was announced the bride and groom were going to have their first dance. The crowd gathered around the newly wedded couple as the music suddenly switched. The speakers were loud as they played a waltz, the couple’s limbs intertwined and swaying to its dramatic pace. They twirled and swayed with the grace of swans tiptoeing and beguiling the creeping ocean on the golden sands. Even though you knew virtually nothing about them, and were convinced that in fact this whole invite was your mother’s scheme to pry, the sight was a beautiful one to behold. The epitome of love – reciprocal trust and utter surrender; it had you wondering where you’d gone wrong previously, and if such a thing was as formulaic as it seemed to be, or if they were freefalling into the abyss as much as everyone else was; blindfolded, but nonetheless with each other. Welded in each other’s hearts.

How long had you projected your yearning at the couple and vicariously lived through their magical moment? You couldn’t say, though it was only the sudden grip on your shoulder that had managed to break your fixed admiration. It was firm, but nowhere near the realm of rough, and it even contained a fraction of gentleness, an action that wordlessly said ‘are you okay?’

At the sudden presence, you looked over your shoulder to find J, his guarded eyes holding a knowledge which only deepened the crawling feeling of embarrassment. Blood rushed to your cheeks. As you rounded your gaze back to the couple, you quickly saw the crowd was beginning to join them, all dancing at their own pace as the music continued its intimate lull. J’s hand slid down your arm while you watched and returned to hold your hand. Content and about to lean into him, your sudden love struck daze pounced away when he started to walk, dragging you along with him.

“Hey– what are you doing?”

No response.

“Let me go!” You said, your tone coming out a lot angrier than you’d expected. You guessed this alerted him because even though you were mere meters away from the rest of the crowd he stopped to explain.

“I saw the way you were looking at them. You know, cupcake, you’re not hard to read,” he drawled.

You pursed your lips, looking away for a moment.

“So what? What are you doing?”

“What does it – ah – look like?”

He’d seemingly taken your lack of response as a positive and continued forward. He grinned once he had you in position and placed his palm on the small of your back, his thumb rubbing gentle circles. He then maneuvered his other hand to grab yours and stretched it forward. From his first few steps you knew immediately it was the Viennese Waltz. The fast tempoed dance was one you weren't all too familiar with, but you’d learned its slower English counterpart.

“I didn’t know you could dance,” you gasped, trying your best to conceal your astonishment. You didn’t want to seem rude, though he just didn’t seem like the person interested in such a thing. Nor have the time. You were certainly finding yourself more curious about the origin of such a talent, and all the other potential abilities that were sneakily tucked away.

“Well aren’t I just full of surprises.”

He dipped you slightly in time with the halt of the orchestra. He held you there for a moment before the tune resumed its boisterous charm, climbing steadily to its crescendo.

“Here’s to another,” he said, his smile widening. If you didn’t know him so well you would have believed the expression to be completely innocent and honeyed. Standing there intertwined with his limbs you knew that devilish gleam was anything but.

And, seconds later, this suspicion proved right.

Suddenly he lifted you, twirling you around in such a way that made you feel like you were the bride. You’d only seen such a thing in Disney movies and cheesy rom coms – to be cherished, to be loved and cared for in such a delicate way was a fantasy; a taste of nostalgia and a serenade to the hopeless romantic within.

“J, put me down! Put me down!” You felt yourself swallow when his hands tightly gripped your hips. For a moment the irritation you’d experienced all day from a full face of makeup and wandering had all been worth it.

His laughs slipped out, too; a direct contrast from his often irked facade, a musically heart-warming phenomenon which no instrument could emulate. The whole time you kept your eyes on each other and never once did they deter, focused on drinking in the beauty of each other. The cheers from the crowd you’d gathered fell upon both your deaf ears, transfixed by each other’s magic in your own closed off bubbles.

As you continued to dance, the act itself felt like flying. The crowd separated when you neared – that is, until everything stopped. Sharp and prompt.

Neither of you had much regard for the abrupt bump when it happened, there were people everywhere and mistakes occurred. It was no big deal. At least that’s what you told yourself until such a collision was followed by a violent shriek and a splash.

Loud gasps replaced the background noise of applause.

In a few frightening seconds your brain made the connection – linking who you’d just seen in the same area minutes before, inches from the ocean.

“Oops,” you squeaked, too scared to turn around. However, despite your better judgement you did just that.

The groom stood in shock, evidently unable to come to terms with the sight he was seeing. One moment his new wife was safe within his arms, dancing as if it was only two of them in the universe, the next she was below him, swimming with seaweed. Then, his form began to tremble, a telltale sign that what was to come was nowhere near the realms of good.

He turned around with searing red eyes, a wrinkled nose and bared teeth. The eyes of the bull met the petrified, and his stubby, squared and well-manicured finger pointed directly at you.

“You fucking bitch!” He roared.

You jumped, feeling yourself cling to J. His arm wrapped around you reassuringly and although you trusted him with your life, being confronted by a raging groom was still nonetheless intimidating. The groom who apparently cared more about telling you off than helping his wife, who was still floundering in the crashing waves, began his march over to you.

“Do you know who I am?” He continued, and you wondered if he was still aware there was a crowd around. J almost instantly stood in front of you and had to hunch further to scowl at your aggressor.

“What was that?” J grabbed the man in front of him and slipped the blade hidden in his sleeve between the groom’s lips, angling it against the crease of his mouth.

“Hmm? Why not try your luck, princess. Say it again.”

The groom froze, the flicker of fear evident even on your end, though he kept up his brutish facade.

“You’re both going to be 6 feet under when my dad’s through with you.”

“Aww… run along to daddy so he can fix all your problems,” you could hear the pout in your boyfriend’s voice, comfortable and in your eyes even elated, to spit out the toxins he’d been gathering from just being here all day.

“So you do know who I am–” “The second most spoiled kid of Gotham’s underbelly.”

“And yet, you’re still holding the knife.”

“Of course the first would be your brother though, hmm?” J continued, completely ignoring the man's statement.

The groom gritted his teeth.

“I bet it stings to not be the favourite. To not even have him here on your big day.”

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” The groom spat, bullseyeing J’s shoe. You saw red pooling at the corner of the man’s mouth, the mere act of expectorating on your boyfriend’s shoe more urgent than self-preservation.

Yeesh.

“Now that’s not very hygienic,” J growled, wrinkling his nose. His grip on the knife tightened and in one quick motion, the groom was screaming.

While you couldn’t see the infliction from where you were positioned, the blood dripping onto the sand was clear as crystal. The screams of those around you were piercing, their horror and disgust forcing you to cling tighter to your boyfriend.

“J, please! That’s enough, it’s okay!” You pulled on his blazer. Feeling the hundreds of widened eyes staring holes into your being was no longer a concern. What mattered most was him. Getting out of here.

With a quick glance to his right, J met you, then looked back at the groom.

He smacked his lips.

“Seems you are lucky,” he purred, the shimmer in his eye reflecting nothing of the warmth he concealed so carefully – nothing of the warmth of when your eyes met. Instead, it was serrated and reflected jeopardy. He possessed the force of a hurricane. A gravity; the way in which he commanded the direction of things and uprooted the fortitude of the righteous, the sure, a mothernatured finesse.

He looked back at you again before shifting his hold on the man, fisting his wrinkled and bloodied shirt, then barked, “why don’t you go join your blushing bride?”

With the element of surprise, J raised his knee and shot it between the man’s legs, the man falling down almost as fast as the foreign presence made an impact. You could have sworn someone at the corner of your eye jolted, most likely fearing the worst while others let out shrieks. Fear of the unknown, the seduction of one’s imagination and its ability to fill in blanks was the most manipulatable aspect of consciousness. Rather than bleeding out and rocking lifeless against the cradling waves like so many had thought, the groom sat there, soaking in the shame of defeat and crimson. He hollered while his new wife crawled to his side.

“Tell your precious father I said ‘hi.’”

All eyes now turned to you both as you speedily departed, J dragging you along once more. The colony of sand in your shoe that had begun its formation hours ago was well in its breeding season now, the leathery insole most likely buried along with the newly wed’s marriage. Before you fully exited the cooperative crowd, forever to forget the merging faces of horror, two familiar ones caught your eye.

Hah!

“Some date, huh?” You smiled, staring at your mother straight on. The way her face twisted up in a myriad of emotions – surprise, disgust, embarrassment – was something you’d never forget. You were sure you destroyed her little snobbish social circle by the mere association. Pride swelled in your chest, a childish victory that didn’t seem so childish when you later reflected on your relationship with her.

When the two of you escaped back to the van successfully, there was a moment of contemplation.

“I – heh – think that went well!” J laughed to himself, rounding his body to face you, “you think your parents like me?”

“I think I should be asking the same to myself,” you said.

“Cheer up buttercup, at least your parents know you’re not dying alone anymore.”

“To be honest, after that shitshow they’d probably prefer it,” a sigh left your lips and you began to bite them, unconscious of the small action until the taste of metal blew up your taste buds.

“Eh. Who needs parents, anyway?”

You began to fiddle with your hands, suddenly finding them incredibly interesting. From the lack of interruptions you concluded he knew you were miles away, trapped in the wilderness of your own thoughts.

“So I’m guessing you only came because you found out whose wedding it was.”

It took a lot to break the silence, and the air suddenly shifted to a heaviness. You weren’t sure you were the only one tensing.

J clicked his tongue but didn’t answer.

“It’s okay… I think I’ve had my fill of weddings for a while, anyway. And parents. And honestly, maybe people,” you answered for him, despite the swirl of hurt brewing in your gut.

He breathed out his amusement. The lack of transience had you swallowing, frantic to keep the growing weight on your chest from expanding – from consuming your entire being with emptiness. You didn’t know how long you had until the stampede made its mark, the thunderous thuds of terror already echoing in the distance.

Those were only thoughts you could entertain alone, sunken in the decaying paradise of your bed.

Silence prevailed again.

Dazed and lost of direction, you remained fixated on the lines of your palms.

“The husband had a temper. You know, I thought they were so lovely at first.”

“That’s what they want you to believe. Their little golden castles sparkle in the sun and it’s only until the rain pours that you can see them for what they really are. Wet cardboard. Looks can be deceiving.”

“They certainly can be,” you looked up at him, smiling softly.

Even with the friction, you slowly reached up to cup his face. This time on his end, there was no fear or hesitation. Instead, just an unspoken mutual trust between two wandering souls. You looked down at his lips while your thumbs stroked the hidden lines of his scars. The gentle caresses wore down the makeup until finally they were visible again.

The marks of a survivor – beautiful and bold.

“Wait,” he said, the word simple and yet so labyrinthine. He reared back and looked at his hands while your own moved to rest on your knees. Curled into fists, his slowly unclamped like a blooming flower. What they revealed had your heart thumping, dancing its rhythm in your throat. You felt your eyes widen and the sadness immediately leave you, as if all its colour had been drained from you. You felt like a 1930’s cartoon, so shaken to the core that all you could see was greyscale.

“It wasn’t the only reason,” he whispered, the commanding presence absent.

He cleared his throat and finally looked up at you, “in fact, these were my only reason.”

“You son of a bitch,” you bit your tongue in awe at the binding pieces of metal in his hands. They twinkled in the holiday rays, beckoning, unuttering whispers of fabrication. Was the weight of those dual bands as heavy as his heart? As heavy as the solemn expression as he processed your jabbing words?

“I-I know it’s not much but–” he stuttered, and was promptly interjected.

“Oh! No, no, no! I didn’t mean–”

You both smiled. Yours wide and brazen, his small and seraphic.

“My J. Always starting fights, always getting what he wants,” you took the ring from his finger and darted to your left hand, slipping it on its rightful throne, “how can I resist?”

You kissed him mellowed and full of saccharine and he sighed, his reciprocation just as tender despite the usual dash of coarseness.

“Mine,” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. He fluttered his eyes shut and his breathing began to steady.

“Mine,” you whispered.

In all that was and all that ever could be, never would you have believed such a moment possible. Magical and idiosyncratic, you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Nothing big and extravagant in front of many eyes. Just the two of you, inside what you now considered the best moment of your life. What many described as a lock and chain, a prison for the rest of one’s life, you would describe as the only thing you had ever wanted. As much as before, everything felt complete.

Supernal.

You don’t know how long you stayed like that, breathing in unison, basking in each other. All you knew was that it was all too soon when you hit the road again, starting the long journey back to Gotham. After a lot of the same scenery – trees, cars, rocks, more cars and occasional bodies of water – your eyes had become leaden. Resting became impossible to oppose and before long your eyes gave into its stinging demand.

Somewhere within the haze of half-consciousness, a mysterious material was draped over you. It was silken on the inside, your arms softly grazing it occasionally, and linen on the outside, your chin brushing over it when passing uneven roads. Subtle ripples of cologne drifted from the fabric as you finally fell prey to sleep’s siren song.

“Sleep well, sweetpea,” lulled a sweet voice.

350 notes · View notes

mooncademia · 4 years ago

Text

Caught in Love

PAIRING ~ Aizawa x reader

GENRE ~ fluff

SUMMARY ~ After getting a job offer at U.A, your love life w/ Aizawa has officially transferred to school. And you loved it.

But wait...something is different about Class 1-A homeroom teacher! And it has definitely caught a few suspicious eyes.. who may or may not have an idea up their sleeves to satisfy their burning curiosity.

First day working at U.A, you realized that you didn’t have to wake up at your usual morning alarm at 5:30 a.m.

Ah yes, the pro hero days of waking up super early, going to the agency, giving Aizawa (who continued to sleep beside you) a peck on his cheek before you left were now over.

And instead, you were introduced to a new routine.

A fresh one.

However, things weren’t going to change that fast, after all, you’ve been pro-hero for years! And your sleep cycle has stuck to your 5:30 a.m alarm and Aizawa, your husband, did not appreciate that.

“We are going to work, together!” You squealed as you flung open the blankets that covered you and Aizawa. You hopped out of bed and shook his shoulder, making Aizawa mumble a groan.

You kissed his cheek passionately and ruffled his messy raven-black hair a little bit.

“Come on,” you said. “Wake up, I’m going to make some coffee.”

Aizawa turned to the side to peek at the clock on the bed side table. He let out another groan when he saw the three digits.

“Y/N, it’s literally 5:34 a.m. You just need to be at U.A at 8 and we don’t live that far.”

“Yeah, well,” you said with an exciting smile. “You can never be too prepared!”

You scurried out of the room and turned on your coffee machine in the kitchen. Aizawa turned around and saw his bedroom now empty. His wrinkled long black sleeve was bunched up to his waist and he frowned as he got up this early for the first time in months. You knew your husband was a rationally-driven man, sometimes a lone cat who prefers privacy and waking up a lot later. But what you didn’t know was that when Principal Nezu asked him if his wife could teach at U.A after All Might retired, he was thrilled.

So despite it being before 6 a.m, his excitement was bubbling over that it made him finally leave the bed.

But of course, he had to play it cool. With rational excuses, right?!

“Well, I guess I do have to review the school schedule with you,” he mumbled as he palmed the back of his neck and walked out of the bedroom.

When you saw your husband slumping down on the dining chair with his half-lidded eyes, your heart immediately flipped and you poured a nice cup of hot coffee for him.

You knew him well enough that he didn’t wake up this early in the morning for no reason. You set the cup on the table and leaned down to give him a peck on the corner of his lips as a gesture of gratitude.

But at the very last second of pulling away, Aizawa got the best of you and wrapped your waist with his strong arms, causing you to sit down on his lap—santa lap style.

He hugged you warmly and you slung your arms around his neck. Aizawa snuggled his head between your neck and shoulder and sighed blissfully with his eyes closed. You laughed with your head tilted slightly back.

Yeah, he definitely was not a morning person.

After much time of Aizawa discussing you about the school system for the millionth time during breakfast and almost having a mental breakdown of whether or not you could actually teach (we all have those moments, right?), you were on your way to U.A.

And it really took your breath away.

The school was located on the top hill in Musutafu with the whole neighborhood revolving around it. Glass windows seemed to reach the sky and when you realized how freakin’ big the campus actually was, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the building, not even a second.

But that wasn’t the best thing of all.

Because the best thing was having to walk to work with your favorite (and sometimes most annoying, but you love him nonetheless) person beside you. It was like having your best friend as a partner for your science project in high school. Ease poured over you as you found it quite pleasant to have a strong arm to lean delightedly upon, a familiar face that peers down at you with a gentle smile, and a reassuring voice to tell you that things will be okay.

It was still an hour before class but you and Aizawa were—of course—there early.

The two of you were walking down the halls. Sooner or later you’ll have to let go of your arm that was crossed with Aizawa’s before entering the teacher’s office because one thing that you both agreed upon was to keep the relationship low-key. No one knew that Aizawa’s wife was going to be the new teacher at U.A except for some of the faculty and of course…Hizashi Yamada, aka: the loudest person in the world in Shouta’s opinion.

“Y/N!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Present Mic shouted when he saw you step into the teacher’s office. His blonde hair that was religiously shifted upward was too iconic to not be noticed from far away. You giggled at the sight as he threw his arm around his best friend, Aizawa, poking him teasingly on the shoulder. You were great friends with Hizashi and in fact, he was the one who introduced you to Aizawa in the first place.

“Oi, Eraserhead, you’re so lucky your wife goes to work with you,” Hizashi teasingly snickered with his arm still slung around Shouta’s neck. Aizawa tried to shrug him off but it only made him tighten his grip. “So they managed to get Y/N to teach here but they haven’t even implemented my great idea?!”

“Please no, Mic.” Aizawa groaned, trying again to pull away from Hizashi’s grip.

You sat down your bag. “What’s your ‘idea?’ ”

Hizashi let go of Aizawa’s neck and casually slung his arm around yours, making you giggle in surprise.

“Well of course it’s my HERO FM radio! Every Friday from 1:00-5:00 p.m!” He announced proudly (or more like promoting) making you laugh even more as Aizawa facepalmed himself. “I told the staff that they should let me add one more day, you know, because of my great increasing popularity! But they said one day a week is already “enough,” he said letting go of you to make air quotes with a disgusted expression on his face.

“Get to work Mic,” Aizawa called as he headed towards his desk to gather up some assignments for his morning class.

Hizashi winked at you before he trotted off, throwing you a thumbs-up sign. “Get ready for some ‘strict Aizawa-sensei.’ One day during U.A fest, I wanted to hear Class 1-A perform but Aizawa kept on saying that I should be on patrol duty—“

“Which you should’ve. It was your shift.” Aizawa interrupted bluntly.

“But I just wanted an INSEY WINCEY listen!!” Hizashi stomped on his feet childishly which made Aizawa roll his eyes and let out a sigh.

You went to your husband and stood on your tippy-toes to land a small peck on his cheek. Aizawa blushed at your move because of the fact that you two were in a semi-public place, but he didn’t complain at all.

“Oh, don’t worry.” You seductively caressed his shoulder and gave him a charming smile as you leaned in deadly closer to his face with your hips arched a bit. “I can’t wait to see… what Aizawa-sensei is like.”

Your tone was silky smooth and you rolled out the last word so slowly that it made Aizawa’s mouth part open just a bit. He stared at you dumbfoundedly. Your eyes flickered down to his lips and he swallowed a gulp. He felt like Cupid just shot his heart and he was totally falling for you once again because the fact that you called him ‘sensei’ totally did not make his stomach or heart heat up.

Yeah…he really was goddamn lucky to have you work at U.A alongside him.

———

“Overall, ‘Plus Ultra’ doesn’t always necessarily means you need to exceed your limits physically. But it also means mentally. It’s how your brain exercises to solve complex situations. What are your strategies like? Are you saving those who need saving in quick time while doing minimal damage to your surroundings? I hope next week’s practice can allow you to exercise these brain muscles of yours that I reviewed today because listening to your thoughts and being mentally stable/prepared is more important than how powerful your quirk is. Listen to that hero gut instinct of yours, because at the end, especially in dearest times… it’s going to help you immensely.” You finished with an encouraging smile that made the class almost want to clap at your amazing class. You were glad to see their engaging faces and raising their hands when they had a question.

Class 1-A was truly remarkable. Though, the only student that left you curiously wondering about was the small boy with purple balls on his head because he seemed to be staring at you so intensely that you swore his eyes were bugging out of their sockets.

Aizawa bowed at you when you finished and you gave him a smirk.

The class began to exchange small chats as you bowed back to Aizawa.

“Wow, I think this teacher is really good! She’s so pretty and smart!” Ashido excitedly whispered to Tsuyu behind her with her eyes widened.

“That’s pro-hero for you,” Kaminari added with his index finger and thumb pointed high up. “Plus, she even made Aizawa-sensei stand there awake the whole entire time listening.”

Some of the classmates nodded eagerly in return, truly astounded that their homeroom teacher did not retreat to his traditional yellow sleeping bag that he usually does.

“Thank you L/N-sensei,” Aizawa said, popping the class back to the board ahead. You bowed at him in return, but before you headed out, you saw Aizawa gave you the tiniest nod and wait…was that a smile creeping on his lips?!

You exhaled silently in relief. You have been so nervous and worried about teaching at U.A. When Principal Nezu offered you the position, you were shocked to even know that he had you on his mind. You previously thought that Aizawa proposed the option but that guess was quickly diminished when he told you that he had nothing to do with it.

You were just a pro-hero doing your job and when the amazing opportunity arose, you immediately accepted it, knowing that you deeply wanted to help students find their way to hero-life.

And Aizawa knew you had been nervous about U.A since accepting the offer. You have stayed up countless nights just reviewing paperwork, going over the school schedule many times, and even looking through practice exams from the past, thinking about what further lessons you can teach to these students.

You folded your lips and returned a small nod, eyes twinkling as you slid the door to head out.

The class truly captured the small moment you and Aizawa had, but then all shrugged away when they heard their homeroom teacher begin handing out today’s assignments.

As you trotted away from the class back to the main office, you smiled at yourself as you hugged your folders tighter to your chest.

Hm… I could definitely get used to this.

———

Days seemed to go by faster than you had expected.

Wake up (sometimes not that early anymore thanks to Aizawa hugging you down even after your 5:30 alarm rings), enjoy breakfast, head to U.A, teach, and then go back home with Aizawa (when everyone else is —of course— away).

You’ve had your ups and downs at U.A. Some days, work seemed to flow by very smoothly while other days, work was more than just grading papers or checking assignments. There were a few days where work overloaded and you and Aizawa will be staying up past midnight checking over paperwork. But it was times like these where you truly felt utmost grateful to have a mentor there to help you. And it was even better that your mentor was your favorite person in the world.

It has been ten days since your first day at U.A.

Which means: ten days Aizawa not sleeping a wink during your long lectures about hero work that he already confidently knows. And to some of the classmates who knew their homeroom teacher well enough that his yellow sleeping bag was his best friend, it was a bit…odd.

“Don’t you think it's weird that Aizawa-sensei stays awake only during L/N-sensei’s lectures?” Uraraka asked Kaminari on their way to the Lunch Rush.

“What do you mean?” Kaminari shrugged and chuckled. “It should be weird that a teacher sleeps during class in the first place, right?” He grabbed his food tray excitingly, his eyes focused closely on it, clearly not noticing Uraraka’s suspicious tone nor mischievous eyes.

Tsuyu popped in between with the two and let out a sigh. “Boys……You have to read in between the lines. Uraraka’s right.” She snapped her finger perkily. “Aizawa-sensei is not just awake but he’s seemed very engaged to L/N-sensei.”

Kaminari stared at Tsuyu and Uraraka obliviously as he sat down with the rest of the classmates. “Huh?”

Uraraka rolled her eyes. “You know! From the way he nods his head when she talks or oh! That smile?! I have never seen his lips tilt upwards besides haunting us on how difficult practice exams are going to be.” She tiredly sighed, thinking about her teacher’s wicked smirk every time a huge exam was coming. It was like he found pleasure in challenging the students to surpass their limits.

But Tsuyu and Uraraka knew that Aizawa’s expression when you were in the room wasn’t that wicked grin that he had when announcing an upcoming exam or event. Instead, it was a mixture of awe and sincerity. And it definitely made the two girls exchange some giggles and fun guesses.

“What’s up?” Jirou said, sitting down beside Tsuyu with her cafeteria tray, noticing her friends laughing loudly.

Uraraka leaned forward on the table to peer over at Jirou. “It's about Aizawa-sensei and the new teacher!” Her voice was loud enough that it caught the other classmates’ ears, making her furiously blush afterward from her spontaneous excitement.

But of course, of all the pairs of ears in Class 1-A, there was always the one come rushing in when it’s about his favorite subject: women.

“L/N-SENSEI?!” Mineta’s ears visibly perked up from Uraraka’s gush, clearly engrossed with the topic of the new teacher. “She’s SO gorgeous and oh lord, her—“

“Quit it, Mineta.” Kirishima slapped the back of Mineta’s head beside him before he could finish his lewd statement. He hooked his arm around Kaminari with a giant smirk plastered on his face.

“Why don’t we find out, huh?” Kirishima proposed as Kaminari tried to wiggle his way free from his grasp.

“Hey man, watch your grip!”

Uraraka waved her hand to dismiss Kaminari's racket and stared back up at Kirishima. “About what?” She asked curiously, taking another bite of her rice.

“Girls…” Kaminari mocked sarcastically with a sigh, mirroring Tsuyu’s earlier comment that she made on him. The two girls rolled their eyes and punched his shoulder.

Kirishima leaned into the group closer with slyness flickering in his eyes. He grinned and bopped his head at Jirou. “We can find out if there’s anything special between Aizawa-sensei and L/N-sensei…using Jirou’s quirk!”

Jirou scoffed and leaned back with her arms crossed before Kirishima could continue. “Uh, you’re using me to get info about our homeroom teacher’s private life? That doesn’t sound very friend-like to me if I say so myself.”

“Come on Jirou,” Kaminari whined. “It’ll be fun!”

Jirou raised her brows and sneered. “Since when did you get interested in this?”

Tsuyu shook her head and waved her hands, dismissing the rising chaos. “No, you’re right,” She said, trying not to show her disappointing face. “It’s not fair to just use Jirou to grab juicy news about our teachers, you know…even if it can be so great to the point that it makes us cheerful and excited despite upcoming exams.”

Uraraka bobbled her head up and down, religiously agreeing to everything Tsuyu had to say with a pout on her lips and closed eyes. “Or it can even help us lift our spirits.”

Tsuyu nodded. “Even if it is just a tiny bit, it can-“

“Alright, guys! I get it! Fine!” Jirou said over Tsuyu, earning grins from the boys and giggles from the girls. Jirou sighed and pinched her nose bridge. She looked up at her friends and darted a death glare at Kirishima and Kaminari. “I’m only doing this for the girls.”

It was half-true. Jirou didn’t want to agree to this for the boys. But another reason was because of school lately. With heavy workload that the whole class was dealing with, plus the hero-work after school and training, school has been…well, quite draining. And similar to the time where the whole class decided to hold a competition for “best dorm room” last year to raise everyone’s spirits from the whole villain chaos, she thought maybe this can raise spirits up again too. Even if it’s just miscellaneous curiosity or excitement. She knew and sensed that her friends needed something exciting happening, besides school work.

So the plan that Kirishima introduced was to head over to the teacher’s lounge at this moment during lunch break. Since it was merely the beginning of lunch and there was still a good 45 minutes left, it was the perfect time for teachers to be on their desks with students the last thing on their minds. Jirou can place her earphone jacks in the wall to hear the voices inside to retrieve any news from the two teachers.

“And if we got nothing, that’s totally okay as well.” Kirishima shrugged. “We can always try next time!”

“NEXT TIME?!” Jirou exclaimed uneasily, twirling her earphone jacks. “Let’s just see what happens now, and focus on next time later.”

“All right then!” Uraraka clapped her hands excitingly and bumped her shoulder against Tsuyu’s with a beam. “Mission: FIONA starts now!“

“Fiona?” Kaminari raised his brow, getting out of his seat with the rest of his friends.

Uraraka pointed her finger up in the air pridefully. “Find-Info-ON-Aizawa. I couldn’t think of an acronym for ‘ON’ so just leave it together and you’ll get—wooah!”

Jirou and Tsuyu locked elbows with her and dragged her away before she could finished, followed by Kirishima and Kaminari trotting behind their footsteps.

“If you keep explaining it’s going to be Mission: GIT!” Jirou sneered, giving Uraraka’s elbows a good tug.

“GIT?”

Tsuyu smirked as the five of them head towards the teacher’s office. “GETTING INTO TROUBLE!”

———

Lunch breaks were times where you and Aizawa could finally heave a sigh of relief and chat with each other freely. You were happy to work at U.A with Aizawa because now since work schedules were parallel, you could efficiently have the time to hang out with him. When you were pro-hero at your original agency, you’ll often come back home with no trace of Aizawa since he was still in school working on students’ assignments till late evening.

But now, you had all the time in the world to chat with him. Okay maybe not all the time, just an hour and a half, but it was definitely enough for you.

Aizawa was sitting next to you on your desk, nodding along to your talks about your recent lectures with other classes as he gave some advice on teaching.

You let out a wistful sigh and rested your head on Aizawa’s shoulder. You closed your eyes and let out a hum. “Thanks for helping me through all this. I can’t believe teacher work is this much.”

Aizawa let out a puff of air and smirked. He peered down at you from the corner of his eye. “So are you gonna apologize for all the times you were scolding me for not coming back home early?”

You shot your head back up with your eyes widened and a jaw exasperated dropped. You knew that Aizawa was joking from on his tone but you pressed your hand on your chest and squinted your eyes at him, giving him a death glare. “Excuse me? Uhm, sir, I don’t think that’s fair. And besides! All the hours you were gone, I really really missed you and-“

Aizawa leaned forward, a hand snaking to the back of your neck, taking you by surprise as he crashed his lips against yours. You were completely shell-shocked that your eyes stayed open the entire time. Sure, you have kissed Aizawa a thousand times before, but he rarely made the first move. And oh did your heart fluttered!

Aizawa pulled away with a smile dancing on his lips. “And I really missed you too.”

Before you could open your mouth to respond, you heard a loud gasp from outside, making you unconsciously turn your head towards the sound.

A muffled voice transmitted through the walls. “KEEP IT DOWN, KAMINARI!”

A female’s voice? Or was it a boy?

More muffling voices continued and you couldn’t really understand it, but one thing you knew for sure was that there was someone outside.

You twirled your head back to Aizawa. His face hardened and got up from the chair, walking towards the door.

“SH- ! HE- COMING!” A familiar voice echoed through the walls that you could only capture words of.

Aizawa finally opened the door and looked to his right.

Caught red-handed.

All five students were crunched down to the ground. With Jirou’s earplugs on the wall with Uraraka and Tsuyu beside her, plus Kaminar and Kirishima hovering right above her not missing any detail she was saying, Aizawa knew exactly what was up.

“Shouta? What’s wrong?” You asked, making your way to the door when you saw his cold expression.

You sucked in a breath when you saw the scene to your right.

“RUN!” Jirou shouted but it was too late. Aizawa immediately caught the five of them with his trusty gray scarf so fast that you swore you didn’t even notice it. His scarf rolled all five up into a bundle individually so that their arms were glued to their sides.

All of the students heated up from shame.

“Soooooo……..” Kaminari mumbled weakly, trying to make the matter less intensive. “Are you two dating..or..something?” His voice squeaked higher and higher as Aizawa’s brows got deeper and deeper.

You knew you had every right to be mad that these students who were invading you and Aizawa’s privacy, and you should! But to your surprised, your offended emotions were quickly replaced with a comical one as you saw all the students’ ducking their heads in shame, darting their eyes away from Aizawa’s hardened glare.

Ah well…they would’ve found out sooner or later.

You let out a chuckle. Aizawa turned his head at you with his eyes widened, not knowing that you would be taking this matter so lightly. But you returned him with a kind of smile that immediately released the tension of his grip and the eyebrows on his face.

The students perked their heads up in confusion from your reaction, and you flashed them a smile as you snaked your hand behind Aizawa’s back.

“Dating? Hmmm…,” you said, a lopsided smirk dancing across your lips.

“I think it’s a little bit more than that.”

And with those words, Uraraka and Tsuyu couldn’t help but squeal in delight despite still being bonded. Kaminari swore he never felt this wholesome since getting accepted into U.A, and Kirishima—on the other hand—twirled his head away from you and mumbled with his eyebrows furrowed in great passion: “…He’s so manly!”

And Aizawa? Well, he definitely looked at you in surprise for being so open, but no less than a second, he felt a warm breeze rushing through his body.

Your laugh after seeing the students’ reaction was the most beautiful sound he has ever heard.

It always has been.

And hearing that made him feel like hey…

Perhaps people knowing wouldn’t hurt! And maybe it’s because he just loved you that much, or maybe it’s that fact that he realized, that no matter if his class or the freakin’ public knows or not….

Nothing…absolutely nothing, is going to disrupt the beautiful relationship the two of you have.

#aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta #aizawa shouta x you #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa #bnha aizawa #bnha x reader #bnha #mha x reader #mha #shouta aizawa #shouta aizawa x reader

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roger-that-cap · 4 years ago

Text

meet me in the gardens

summary: y’all know the drill

warnings: reader is sort of bitter/cynical because of circumstances, unedited, two girls bonding as they should

word count: 4.5k

this is part four! all other parts are available on my masterlist!

The first time you met with Natasha in your gardens, you felt like you were committing some sort of heinous crime. You constantly checked over your shoulder to make sure that no one was watching you, to make sure that no one was going to see that you were heading to meet someone, and especially that no one knew who you were meeting.

You were quiet as you rounded the area and saw no one waiting for you, your hopes of meeting with Natasha sparking out with more vigor than they had been sparked with, and before you could make yourself turn around, you sighed and then inhaled, trying to keep your nerves at a minimum. She wasn’t late. She couldn’t be late if she was doing you a favor. Before you could get too far in your thoughts, you heard the soft sound of a footstep coming, a stomp so loud that it almost felt intentional. You turned around and saw Natasha approaching, and for the first time, you saw the woman out of her armor.

It was like you were seeing something illegal, at first. You almost shied away, almost averted your eyes, but then you realized that you just… couldn’t. She was too pretty. She wasn’t delicate kind of pretty, and nor did she try to be or not to be, but she was just gorgeous. The moonlight, once again, was her ally as it worked to make her features pop, and illuminate her already bright eyes. Her lips were curved upwards in a hesitant smile, almost as if she didn’t expect for you to be there, let alone before her. And then it dropped, like she expected you to lose nerve and leave her there. The small sliver of vulnerability in her eyes made you take a small step forward and offer her your own awkward smile.

So, you spoke. “Thank you,” was all you were able to get out, but for the moment, that was enough. You expected her to playfully milk it, to ask you, “for what?”, and have you play some humbling game that was both passive and aggressive and teasing. But all she did was smile softly, as softly as the light was hitting the dew on the grass, and tell you that you didn’t have to thank her.

“Have you tried refuting it?” She asked, her voice a little less soft in the night.

“I told you, it’s useless.” You stood up straighter and walked past her slowly, implying that you wanted to walk with her through your garden. “The High Priest’s word is practically law.”

“The King is fond of you,” Natasha said, and you gave her a look. “If you ask him to challenge it, he will.”

“He may, but I doubt he would think differently than any of the others. They think I should be married. They don’t think that a woman should be in charge of all of the things that I am in charge of.” You kicked a rock. “They think we’re useless.”

“I know.”

“That’s why I looked at you like that, you know,” you blurted, and she narrowed her eyes at you as she tried to understand what you were talking about. “When we first met, do you remember how I stared at you?”

“I thought you were going to turn me away.”

“No, not at all. And I apologize for my rudeness,” you added, and she gave you that curt knight’s nod, the nod that told the receiver of it that everything was fine. That whatever happened could be considered buried. “But I looked at you like that because… I’ve never seen a woman be a knight before. I’ve never seen a woman with rough hands, nor have I ever seen her natural desire of battle be fulfilled. I’ve seen common women get dirty and scoop fertilizer and gain muscles, but never for themselves. Always for the good of the family, the good of the farm. I had muscles on the farm when I was young because I had to, not by choice. But you… you look the way you do and behave the way you do by choice. You chose to be a knight, to be a protector, and to have calloused hands. Unfortunately, I never grew up having choices, but after my husband died, for a while I finally did. But now they’ve left me again, and it’s even worse now that I’ve become a lovesick romantic for the idea of free will.”

You were more than embarrassed by your speech. You had hardly taken breaths throughout it, but miraculously, your words flowed together and you didn’t sound half as nervous as you felt on the inside after finally revealing a pathetic part of yourself. You waited less than patiently for her response as seconds ticked by with just the sounds of feet hitting and leaving the dirt, and the occasional drag of one foot against the ground.

“So, you’re jealous?”

You almost laughed. “Of course that’s what you got from that.”

“And you were a commoner?”

You frowned. You were sure that she had heard it from someone else if not by you. And if not by the sword of someone else’s mouth, you assumed that she could spot another commoner from miles away, beneath all the layers of skirt and manners that you forced yourself to keep. “Of course I was, you can’t tell?”

“Sometimes you use language that isn’t very… noble, but I wouldn’t have guessed that you were a commoner before.” You hummed and nodded to yourself. Your etiquette teachers always told you that your language and the accent that you so desperately tried to hide would be your downfall. That, and the way you used to stare at hot food in the beginning like you had never seen a slab of meat in your life. “You seem like you’ve adapted nicely.”

“I had no choice but to,” you said softly. “I was isolated. If I failed as a wife, there was no one that was going to be able to dig me out of the grave.”

“How did you meet Lord Mirellis?” You made a displeased sound, one that caught her attention. “You don’t have to answer.”

“You owe me a backstory,” was all you said before clearing your throat and continuing to walk, staring at the flowers that you tended to while you spoke. “He saw me while I was working on the farm. I was feeding the pigs, I’ll never forget. He didn't really say much the first time he saw me, just watched and loomed over me like a shadow. I didn’t think much of it at the time besides to give him a curtsy because he was a high lord and I was close to nothing, and then I kept doing my work. I was young, I smelled like mud, and I was feeding pigs from my hand. I never thought twice about the way he looked at me, with his narrowed eyes. I assumed he was looking at me in disgust, like most nobles do to commoners. I didn’t think twice.”

“I went back into my house, a little brick thing, and there he was. I remember curtsying a second time, and my hands shook because the air between him and my father was so thick. I remember feeling something in my bones, feeling that things were about to go terribly wrong. So there I was, standing on the hay doormat with mud up to my knees and straw in my hair, smelling like pigs. And then he asked my father- no- told my father that he wanted to take me to his home and wed me, and that he would have it no other way. My heart stopped there. He told him no, and for a moment, I believed that he would keep refusing, until the lord started giving offers. My heart stopped again, and it died when my father gave me one long look, and then looked at the man in front of him, who was much more powerful, much stronger physically, and able to ruin our family with one stroke of a pen. And then, without even talking to my mother, he told him yes.”

“Oh…” Natasha said, and you nodded your head and sighed, almost like you were recounting another’s boring tale and not your own.

“It felt like before I could even blink, he took me home, here, and married me. It was quick and expensive and I remember wearing a beautiful dress on that day, probably the prettiest dress I had ever seen at that point. It was everything I wanted as a child, because luxury was my first choice, even though it had gone unanswered and unfulfilled. And then I learned that luxury and the prettiest dresses that came with it didn’t mean anything if I didn’t have the choice to go with it. It was hard for me to learn, but I learned. But I didn’t learn to settle with my husband. I warmed his bed because I had to, I held his hand in front of others because I had to, I mingled with his family because I had to and because he kept me from mine. But I was never his, like it said in the vows. And he was never mine.”

“Did you want that?” When there were a few beats of seemingly impenetrable silence, Natasha spoke again. “Did you want a relationship like that?”

You scoffed, but it wasn't mocking, It was a sad sound, a sound that you wished you could have taken back the second it left you. “Not with him,” you scoffed again. “With someone else. As a girl, I always wanted to be married to someone who loved me, and someone I loved just as much. It was my dream, maybe even more than luxury was. I wanted love. Not true love, because everyone knows that doesn’t exist, but I wanted to fall asleep and wake with someone I could actually stand, someone that made me smile. He singlehandedly killed that dream. I don’t think it can ever be revived, but I also didn’t think that it could die a second time in the form of Brock Rumlow.”

“So you don’t like not having a choice, and a part of you is still holding onto the idea that you could find love?”

“I suppose that I said all that to say what you’ve said in a few words.” You admitted softly, looking at your hands that used to have calluses. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Natasha insisted, shaking her head slowly. “I asked for you to tell me. I was honored to get the whole story.”

You scoffed again, covering your arms with your hands as a gentle breeze blew. “You’re… you’re gentle with me.”

“Am I?”

She was. It was something that you thought about, and also tried not to think about. You often caught yourself watching her wield her sword and exercise and walk into the woods only to return hours later, and claim that she was on some soul searching hunt. The look in her eyes was always hungry, always challenging, always looking for something deeper. But there, in the night with you, she looked just as gentle and delicate as the flowers you were both surrounded by.

“You’re so fierce during the day, I see it. And I can see it brewing under your eyes, and I can hear it under your words. You’re not typically like this, are you?”

She waited a minute before she responded. “Why do you ask?”

“Because you’re not like this usually. It’s in your nature to be … harsh. This isn’t you.”

“It is,” she corrected. “But it’s not the way that most people deserve to see me.”

Your heart constricted. “And I deserve to see you this way?”

“I think you deserve a lot of things.” She answered vaguely, and you stopped your walking to take a look at her and her face of indifference. “I think you deserve more kindness than you receive. I think you never got it to begin with.”

“And you’re trying to make up for lost time?”

“I’m trying to let you know that the world isn’t out to crush your spirit,” she said, sounding slightly exasperated. “You’re so burnt out that you hardly even know it, you know? You’re so tired with the world and the people in it and the wicked ways of both that you don’t even realize that you only have two more inches of rope. You don’t realize that you’re burning both ends of your candle, and it’s horribly tragic. You could be so much happier, if you would just let yourself.”

Your mouth could have been shown shut at that moment. Your eyes were bugging out of your head, and you doubted that they were dry. Her words were nearing desperate, tone past begging. Did she truly care that much? It was so odd. Even odder, was she right?

“Both ends of a candle, huh?” You asked, the visual coming to rest in your mind and you nodded, trying your best to keep it together. “And if I was? What would you have me do?”

“I would have you go and sit alone by yourself, and find what truly makes you happy. The twins would be glad to help you. You don’t have to burn during the daytime when you’ve got a perfectly good sun working. Two of them.” You let out a small chuckle.

She was right. As brutish as she seemed, Natasha was proving herself to be correct over and over again. But your head was starting to pound, and you were close to tears again. You couldn’t let yourself cry in front of her.

Not yet.

“I think I’ll retire,” you said softly, voice flowing as gently as the breeze as you watched her nod her head. “Is there… is there anything you want to talk about?”

“I’ll save my backstory for the next time.”

“Next time,” you repeated, somehow, the words sounded foreign on your tongue. “Okay. I’ll be counting on it by the day,” you said, your voice a little too heavy to be a lighthearted tease, but she indulged you anyway.

“I’m sure you’ll hardly even make it to four.”

§§

Natasha was right, you hadn’t made it to four. Next time came in the form of two nights later, after you had cried your eyes out in your room for two days straight all by yourself, not even allowing Wanda in to come and dress you. Your eyes were puffy and your palms had little crescents indented in them from your nails digging in out of nerves and to distract you from the ache in your chest. The moon had barely finished rising in the sky when you trudged out of your room, gave four knocks on Natasha’s door and hoped that she would take the hint, and then took off towards the gardens.

While you waited, you couldn’t help but to watch the flowers sway in the breeze. The weather was constantly warm yet breezy in your region of the kingdom, and it had always been one of your favorite parts of living in Riverstone. The moonlight changed their colors, made them look somewhat eerie in the night as you waited by yourself for a knight that may or may not show.

“I assumed this was what four knocks were for,” Natasha’s voice mused from behind you, and you didn’t even jump. “I assume you don’t just want to-”

“Can you tell me about yourself?” You interrupted, glancing at her and giving her a dejected look that you didn’t even realize you were wearing. “Please?”

“Um, yeah,” Natasha muttered, and then she cleared her throat. Her blue eyes connected to yours while she started to tell her story. “I grew up in the slums, you know that. Near the castle, in the capitol.” You had assumed that much. “I grew up watching knights, and I realized that was what I wanted to be when I was young. And unfortunately for me, I never stop going after the things that I want.”

“That’s a gift,” you said, and she shook her head.

“It depends on the things that I want. More times than not, it’s a curse.” Her eyes trailed over to a rose that was working on blooming, and then back to you. “Two other kids I grew up with felt the same way, Steve and James, but he always went by “Bucky”. They’re older than me, but it felt like I was always looking out for them. And I wouldn’t have had it any other way. They’re knights now, they passed their quests.”

“That’s wonderful,” you said, and she nodded her head.

“They live together now, out in the country about a hundred leagues west of here.”

Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head. “They- they live together?”

Just like that, Natasha’s almost carefree recollection of ehr memories was sliced through with an iron tone and a steely glare as she watched your expression, protecting her lifelong friends that weren’t even there to hear anything you could say. “Something wrong with that?”

“They- they could be killed for that,” you whispered, eyes fixated on her despite how mean she looked in the moment.

“That’s why they live in the country,” she muttered, turning her head away from you, and you could have sworn that she clenched her jaw in what looked like disappointment. “I didn’t think that you were the type to judge that.”

You weren’t. You were actually judged, especially after some people in the beginning of your stay at Riverstone started to believe that you were having an affair with Wanda. You weren’t, and Wanda was simply your best friend, but that didn’t stop you from realizing how harsh the world was. Sexuality was never your concern, seeing as you never had choices to act on whichever way your heart swayed anyway.

But you couldn't deny that you were getting nervous for the way your fickle little heart acted around Natasha.

“I’m not, I promise,” you said, and she gave you a long look. “I just… I just know that people have been hurt because of… the way that they love. It’s not right, but it happens.”

“And you?” Natasha asked, and you furrowed your brows. “Who do you love?” You knew that she wasn’t talking about a specific person. She was talking about sexuality.

Men. I love men. That was what you should have said, something along those lines and something concrete. It should have been something that would have convinced her and yourself that you were in the clear, that you loved the way society wanted you to. But instead, like Natasha always managed to, you opened your mouth and told the truth. “I don't know.”

You looked away before you could see the pure shock flood her face, and then the mask of understanding that collapsed it.

“It doesn’t matter who you love,” she said quietly, almost as if anything louder than a whisper would frighten you back into being reserved. “Only how you do it.”

“I’m not sure that priests feel the same way,” you muttered, and she snorted a bit. The sound coming from a woman both shocked you and made you grin.

“Those same priests abuse children. It’s safe to say that I have no cares for anything they have to say about me and my lifestyle.” You sucked in a breath at that and looked towards her, eyes wide as you waited for her to say something else so terribly true but all you looked over to find was a knowing smile on her face as she looked right back at you, painstakingly gorgeous. Your breathing stopped for a moment.

“And you?” You dared to ask, but your boldness was erased by the way that your voice trembled. She gave you a look that attempted to convince you that she knew nothing of what you were talking about, but the glint in her eyes gave her away. “Your… preference.”

“I hope my lack of answer keeps you up all night,” she said, and she turned her back to you abruptly, starting to walk away. You sputtered until you could find words.

“Wait, what?” You reached out to grab her, warm hand wrapping around the cold skin of her arm, and she turned her head to look at you, face so close that you got nervous. Your eyes drifted downwards, and then back just as quickly. Your heart raced in your chest when you thought about her leaving you behind by yourself in the garden, and then it ached again when you really understood what your panic was about. You didn’t want to be without her, being alone didn’t bother you any other time. “What made you want to be a knight?” You asked out of nowhere, and you saw her face scrunch up. “If it’s not too much to ask to know.”

“I… it’s not much. I didn’t see anything heroic or watch anyone be saved. There was no knight that saved me either, no knight that I looked up to. In fact, I was the one out of the three of us who wanted to be a knight first,” she said, and you leaned forward, almost like it would make her point come faster. “I read a story… you know the one about Sir Yuriel and Lady Selene?”

You blinked. Of course you did. Everyone knew that story. It was a common one that was read to children right before bed, about a time where the crime for falling in love with someone who wasn’t your intended was punishable by death. “The one where they run away from the people trying to kill him together?”

“Yes,” Natasha said, and you furrowed your brows. It was hardly a positive story. It was a story drilled into young minds about the dangers of not doing what they were told to do, and what could happen if they chose to carve their own paths.

“The knight dies at the end,” you pointed out.

“He dies protecting her,” she corrected, but you just shook your head at her.

“Regardless, he died. Why would you want to die?”

“I don’t want to die,” she said, and you waited for the other part of her answer. “I want to do what he did, but better. As bad as I might still seem to you, I’m still a girl. And I want to love someone so much that I would give everything for them, and I want them to love me back enough for them to give up all the riches that Selene did. Just like you.”

You ignored the pang in your chest at her accuracy, and the knowing look in her deep eyes. “Oh, so you’re a liberator? You save women from unfortunate circumstances?”

“More like I just hate seeing things that are blatantly wrong, and I like to fix them.”

“Then you’re in the wrong profession. You should have tried for a king’s associate.”

“The people who are the true menaces listen to swords, not dried ink.” She patted her hip, right where the hilt of her sword would have been if she was in her armor. “I’m right where I need to be.”

“In the middle of the garden of a widower, who cries herself to sleep every night after learning that she’s to be wed again?” You asked, and somehow, despite the severity of your words, there was a teasing lilt to your tone.

“I think we’re both right where we need to be.”

“Oh, wouldn’t that be something? If the stars lined up kindly for a change.” You couldn’t hold back your scoff. “I’d get on my knees and pray for the first time in years.”

Natasha stared at you for a long moment, her eyes calculating something that was completely lost to you as you crossed your arms and looked right back at her, a quiet and tension free challenge hanging in the air between you. “Have you ever even watched the stars to see if they aligned?”

“I don’t have the time or the spirit for that,” you said, a small laugh edging out the hardness in your voice.

“Interesting.”

§§

You had a day full of Pietro, an evening just sitting and talking mindlessly with Wanda, and then you got a sharp round of knocks on your door, and though you had never gotten them before, you knew exactly what they meant.

Natasha was waiting for you, and the sight of her had you nearly choking. She was in a flowy white gown, the material so thin that it could have been a night gown. Her hair that was typically up during the day was down, and the Riverstone breeze was as evident as ever as she stared back at you, either waiting for an action or a few words to come from you. However, the second you opened your mouth, she shook her head.

“Not a word. We’re stargazing tonight.”

The part of you that was beaten into being mature was immediately turned off by the idea. Stargazing was something that you hadn’t done since childhood, and being a child never got you anywhere you needed to be. But the other part of you, the one that had been buried in dust just like your hands from that time had been covered in mud, wanted to do it. It both excited you and terrified you, because not even Wanda could make that part of you surface, not like how it was then.

You knew, without a doubt, that it had everything to do with Natasha Romanoff.

You pretended to debate,but on the inside, you were already giving the stars love-eyes. “Let’s do it, then.”

It lasted for hours. Mostly, the two of you were silent, but that hardly meant that the two of you weren’t bonding. Every so often, she would turn her head to look over at you, and you would ignore the electrifying feeling of her blue eyes on the side of the face, vision fluttering all around your face. And then, you would look at her the same way, studying her like your former etiquette teachers would stare at your sewing and your posture. You found that with her being so close, you couldn’t deprive your eyes of watching her.

But when you weren’t looking at her for your own benefit or looking at her watching you, you were watching the stars. You laid under the arch of the gardens with her, a few petals blocking the way of a few distant stars. It felt… right. It felt natural, with the silence and all, and above anything, it just felt peaceful. You forgot everything that was troubling you within minutes of just lying there next to her. Feeling the warmth of her skin and the security of her being near was worth more than a thousand words, and you found that in that moment, sitting in silence with her and looking at the stars that had screwed you over so terribly was one of the best decisions that you had ever made.

*****

hi guys! hope you liked this installment!! it’s about to be really fluffy and then we’ll get into what i like the most: drama wjjdjjdjdjx

question!!: i have about 13k worth of hades!natasha x persephone!reader in the vault. would you rather me start posting it now or wait for this series to be finished? we’re getting there with this one, ish.

tags! : @teenwonder @procrastinatingsapphictrash @fayhar @8plasma @slut-for-nat @dontmindmejustreading @swords-are-cool @200605chaeng @thescottishavenger @antidaytime @jenny-song @madamevirgo @natasha-danvers @blackxwidowsxwife

#marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #my fics #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #marvel au #lgbtq #lgbt marvel #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanov x reader #natasha fluff

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