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tinytennisskirt · 3 months ago

Note

You and Patrick leave the restaurant on your one month anniversary. You’re both standing outside his car, he says he loves you for the first time. You try to distract him with a bunch of kisses and what not but he notices and questions it. Why didn’t you say it back? He’s all like what are you doing? Do you love him back? or Is it just too early to tell? But you’ve already been dating for a month! You didn’t say it back.

Those Three Words

Summary: as above^ When patrick meets the pretty bartender, his bachelor days are over. reader and patrick quickly become friends, good friends. and after a tipsy confession and a perfect kiss, they start dating. it's new, it's weird, but it's so easy to be in love with you. not as easy to tell you, though. (it turns out more than okay, i promise)

warnings: mentions of drinking. kissing. mentions of sex. angst... hurt/comfort silliness. player pat! turned loverboy! such a good moment for him. also i changed one month to two, i hope you don't mind!

It was different with you. Patrick knew that. You were the girl who put the habits of a casual man to rest. You came into his life, or rather he came into yours ordering a Redbull and two shots of Jaeger from the bar you were working and you looked at him a little oddly, with a cute smile questioning why he didn’t just order a Jaeger bomb. He was out with Art, but his attention stayed on you for the rest of the night. He drank way too much, returning to the bar and asking you for drinks just as an excuse to talk to you more. He emptied his wallet.

Art had to drag him out and into a taxi, practically shoving him in while he talked about you like a wasted white girl. He woke up the next morning with a killer headache and surprisingly, most of his memories of you, though they were a little altered by the alcohol. He called Art, asking him about the night only to be filled in that he spent it flirting with you. So he was fucked, he deducted. No chance.

But a few nights later he and Art went back and surprise, you were working again. Patrick usually had it in his head that going out and drinking at bars was for finding women to go home with, but his eyes fell on you and he knew he had to say something. So he walked up the bar, eyeing you in your black t-shirt with a neckline that dipped enough for cleavage paired with your little black skirt. “You again,” you smiled, seeing him approach. Oh fuck, you were as pretty as he remembered. “Glad to see you alive and well.”

He grinned, sitting at the bar, hands folding in front of him. “Thanks.” He smirked a little.

“What can I get you?” You grinned. He ordered two drinks and to Art’s annoyance, struck up a conversation with you. You were funny and you were interesting and probably one of the most gorgeous women he’d ever spoken to. He tried not to overdrink again just to speak to you, but after helping every customer, you’d come back on your own. Patrick didn’t know what exactly it was about you because no matter the fact his eyes fell on your chest every now and then, he was genuinely hearing what you were saying about Depeche Mode. He just leaned toward you as you spoke and listened.

Art came up behind him later that night saying he was heading out and begrudgingly, Patrick went with him. You passed him the bill and he opened it to a napkin with your number. A win. A big win. He looked up and you were helping another customer, too busy to say anything to you about it. But he paid in cash and left a $30 tip on top of it. And he left a happy and tipsy man.

He waited until morning to text you.

'Hey. Patrick from the bar. How r u?’

You got back to him surprisingly quickly, 'Hungryyyy. You?' You were a perfect woman. He was a simple man.

‘About the same.’

You messaged back again, ‘Breakfast???’ followed by ‘You know the cafe off main? I’ll be there in 15’. You were asking him out? Or… to breakfast? Fuck, either way, he’d take it. He messaged back, said he’d be there, and bolted out of bed and into the shower. He let his hair air dry and slipped on jeans and a long-sleeved shirt for the chilliness of the morning and soon he was on the street walking there, trying to be on time. He met you on the corner. You knew it was bad when he met a girl and liked her when she was half-dressed only to look at her fully clothed and could say to himself he liked her more. That was you in your sweater and jeans, hair down, comfy and honestly kind of cute. At the bar you were hot, but here you were cute.

“Good morning,” you smiled at him. What was ‘other women’? What did those words even mean? “You bounce back so well after a night of drinking there’s no way I’d be out of bed at nine in the morning after so many shots.” You smiled. “Hi, Patrick.”

“Good morning,” he replied, hands in his pockets. “And hi,” He smirked a little as you lead him into the cafe wordlessly. You ordered a croissant and iced coffee and lead him to sit down with you. “So, you’re an early riser?”

“Sometimes. If I’m honest I wouldn’t be up this early, but my landlord is doing construction and it’s hectic and loud. I’m lucky if I sleep at all, it’s all hours.” You spoke to him like you’d known him forever. It was cute. You told him all about your apartment situation, how you’re pretty sure your landlord pervs on you and he just sat and listened, happily drinking his Americano.

And it started from there, the slow burn. You hadn’t said anything inherently romantic, but he was content with being your friend if it meant he got to be around you. You’d text a lot, becoming fast friends with similar tastes in music and movies. You were spontaneous and sometimes a little loud, but he really liked that about you. You’d hang out frequently, sometimes multiple days in a row. Sometimes his place and sometimes yours. You liked candy and going to thrift stores and you had a record collection. You’d give him free shots at the bar when you had shifts. He’d show up. Soon you were close to calling him your best friend and it was dawning on Patrick that when women hit on him, he was rejecting them. Supermodel-type women were coming up to him, flirting, and he was shutting them down. He knew he liked you and he knew it was different. It felt like having a crush, something he hadn’t felt since he was back at MRTA, a kid.

You ruffled his hair and his ears would go a little pink. He’d flirt with you just the same and sometimes you’d flirt back in good fun, but oh my god, he was head over heels for you. Only you. One singular woman who he had not slept with. He was devoted and completely in it. It was so out of character for him.

“She’s it,” he said to Art as he paced the living room, energy drink in hand. “She’s got me tangled in her web, there’s no out and for the first time in my life I don’t want one.”

Art watched his best friend, his eyebrows raised, decently pleased. “Should get your head checked.”

“I’m dead serious. I think about her when she’s not around, that’s some sort of sign.” Art did all he could not to laugh at the very normal things Patrick was talking about. “She says things and I remember them. For more than ten minutes.”

“Quick, what’s her name?”

“Okay, shut the fuck up, you’re no help,” Patrick groaned, flopping back into the armchair behind him. His finger spun the rim of the can he held. The expression on his face could only be described as a mixture of defeat and being plain old grumpy. He was grumpy over you. “I think I like her.”

Art grinned at Patrick’s confession, knowing the last time he heard Patrick say he liked anyone was back in ninth grade. “So tell her.”

“I might.” Patrick nodded. As different as things were with you, he would rather tell you than not. He didn’t like the idea that he had genuine feelings, but you were you, so it was fitting. And he had already made plans with you to meet up at a different bar later that night. One with more of a club-like vibe. So he figured it was as good a time as any to tell you- he wasn’t really well-versed in genuine feelings so maybe it wasn’t the best, but he had to tell you somehow.

He picked you up in his car, Art in the back seat. You and Art had been acquainted through Patrick, obviously, and you smiled, greeting them both. Patrick’s eyes fell on the length of your skirt, short. Your thighs were on full display, legs extending into tall boots that matched the colour of your t-shirt. You were hot, it was becoming a problem.

“How the fuck do I say anything when fifteen guys are hitting on her at once?” Patrick said to Art over the music. Art grabbed Patrick’s upper arm, chuckling.

He was a little out of it, buzzed off nicotine. “Kiss her.” He shrugged.

“I’m not kissing her,” Patrick replied. “I have to ask first.”

Art wasn’t so sure about Patrick’s genuine feelings but Patrick, two shots in, was saying he had to ask? Instead of just hitting on a girl and leaning in? Art believed him entirely now. “Fuck. I don’t know.”

“You’re good with girls!”

“So are you!”

“Other girls!” Patrick reasoned. “Ones that will go home with me if I buy them a drink. Not her. How the fuck am I supposed to do this? I just say it? How do you do this with every girl you like? It’s all this? All the time?” He was wigging out a little. It was something new for sure. He wasn’t used to any of this. You’d been friends for six months and you were over on the dancefloor, just a little tipsy, swaying, somewhat ignoring the men who were trying to talk to you, trying to dance with you. He figured there was nothing he could do but accept the fact he was twenty-something with full-on butterflies in his stomach. Art just chuckled and walked away to get Patrick another drink in case things went wrong.

He thought telling you would be easy, but every time he started toward you, he couldn’t follow through. He’d start overthinking his wording. He’d get interrupted by some other girl who he all but told to fuck off. He was stressing badly. And a new feeling crept up watching these guys come up to you in your short skirt and your low-cut t-shirt. It was something he also hadn’t felt in ages and it was just… jealousy. He was jealous, he was sick and completely riddled with it. A couple of guys who came and went grabbed your hips or your waist and his stomach did a genuine flip before the slight anger kicked in. He just stood, bitter, watching, unable to move. Moving meant telling you. Staying still meant you were free to be touched by other guys and this wasn’t easy at all.

You walked over, standing in front of him, a little displeased, “You asked me to come out and you’re standing there, glaring at me.” You sighed, arms folded over your chest. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he nodded, tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek, eyes elsewhere. And he only looked back at you when you started laughing. It was a pretty laugh that he often replayed in his head.

“Oh my god, you’re jealous!” You teased.

He got defensive, “Of what? Of who?”

“I don’t know, of the guys out there? You’re jealous they get to dance with me.”

“Why the fuck would I be jealous of them?” He chuckled, leaning back against the bar. “It’s not like it’s a rarity. You dance with everyone.”

“I think you really secretly want to dance with me,” you nodded, narrowing your eyes at him. You even went so far as to point a finger. Patrick just rolled his eyes. “Oh my god, you’re so jealous, you can’t even deny it anymore. C’mon gorgeous, we are dancing.” Your hand slipped into his as you pulled him into the crowd. For a guy that could pull any woman with just a simple lean toward them, he was more than surprised by the stunt you were pulling in pulling him closer. It was a little shameless, the way you were close to him. Closer than you’d danced with any of the previous guys- you’d been dodging them, no matter how much they got to touch without asking.

You made him a stiff. He’d be into it if it meant nothing, but it didn’t and it couldn’t. But that didn’t stop you. It couldn’t. You grinned at his closeness and frankly, he was a little flustered. Out of his character, so fucking far out of it. But he could get into it when you reached up, wrapping your arms around his neck, dancing much too closely for it to be nothing. It was like slow motion, something out of a movie, the pink and purple lights cascading over your body pressed to his. The bass of the song moving through his body, hands on your waist, kept there without being shoved off by you. Welcomed, really. You were so close he could have kissed you, but something in him told him not to. Not like this. Not here. Art was over at the bar, snapping a few pictures on his phone, laughing to himself as he shoved it into his pocket.

Patrick, completely consumed by the way you were looking at him, felt surprisingly cold when you spun out of his grasp, grinning. He let his hands fall, just a little dumbstruck by what the fuck that just was. It was quite possibly the hottest thing he’d ever experienced. You during the day was so different from you in night-life. You were mesmerizing, easy to watch as you spun back to him. “Feeling better?” You grinned. And you left him, going back to dancing alone. Patrick, god of arrogance and quips, was left speechless.

He walked back over to Art, mouth a little open. “What the fuck.”

“You tell her?”

“No,” Patrick was almost bitter in rebuttal. He sank into the bar stool and ordered another drink.

“I think she knows,” he grinned over at Patrick who downed the drink in one fell gulp.

“You think?” He paused for a moment and exhaled. “Fuck.”

The night died down. You were hungry and Art was pretty done with the place. Patrick carried your boots as you walked barefoot down the sidewalk back to the car, fries from the chip truck in hand. Patrick paid. He didn’t mind. You shared with both boys and Art drove back to Patrick’s apartment. He was going to crash at his, sleep in the living room. So were you, apparently. The three of you took the elevator up. Art said goodnight, jumping over the back of the couch and onto it. It was pretty much enough to ban you both to Patrick’s room.

Patrick dropped your boots by the door and went to his room as you finished your fries and went to go brush your teeth. He went through his clothes, grabbing you some loose t-shirt and shorts he knew wouldn’t be too big on you. He dropped them to you in the bathroom wordlessly and went to go sit on his bed with some water, trying to level out.

You emerged a few minutes later in his clothes, your skirt and t-shirt in a ball in your hand, tossed by your boots. “Thank you,” you smiled, sitting on the bed with him. “So, how are you feeling?” You asked, stealing a sip of his water.

“Decent,” he replied. “Didn’t drink enough, apparently.”

“Apparently not,” you smiled, handing the water back. He finished it and tossed the solo cup he’d used into the trash next to his bed. “So are we going to talk about it, or are we just going to bed?”

Patrick didn’t see that coming. He straightened out, his heart picking up just a little. “Hm?”

“Patrick…” you trailed off, leaning just a little bit forward. “You like me, hm?”

He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t say no, but not confessing felt wrong. “Yeah, I like you. We’re friends.”

“Ooh, ouch,” you smiled. It was probably the most gorgeous smile he’d ever seen. “Friendzoned.”

Patrick smirked a little, “You’re still drunk.”

“Tipsy, baby. Tipsy.” You nodded. His eyes fell on your lips and the way his shirt slipped off your shoulder. “But you know what I mean, Pat. I think, and I have reason to believe you like me. Tell me I’m wrong?”

He chuckled to himself, looking at his hands, the door, you. He tsked, shaking his head. “I can’t.” He admitted. He said it. You had defeated the player in him.

“Thought so.” Your smile was a little bit evil. “So if I kissed you right now, what would you do?”

His smirk grew just a little bit bigger and he moved just a little bit closer to you and you moved just a little bit closer to him. The tension was thick. You watched his eyes meet yours, then your lips, back to your eyes. “Not sure. Just have to find out, I guess.”

“I guess,” you grinned, leaning in the rest of the way, meeting him in the middle. The quiet of his room was quieter and the kiss was slow and passionate. Patrick’s hand on the back of your neck, yours resting on his chest. He kissed you with no intention of anything more or anything less. He even kissed you without tongue- for the first few minutes, after that he figured it was game when you were both lying on your side, just kissing. It was perfect and it was the least hungry kiss he’d possibly ever had.

It was a good fifteen minutes of slow, yet passionate kisses and it tapered off with small kisses, something Patrick had never experienced before. You kissed him a few last times, short and sweet and it was possibly his favourite part of the whole thing. Next to the fact he kissed the pretty bartender he’d had feelings for since the night he met her. You held his face after, he was just a little breathless despite the calm of the kissing.

“Patrick.”

“Yeah?”

“I like you. I’ve liked you for a while.” You smiled.

“I think I caught that,” he grinned like an asshole. You’d never been more into him. You gently tapped his arm. All of this, the talking, the everything, was new. And perfect. “How long is ‘a while’?” You hit him a little harder and he just kept grinning. The words he said were so foreign. “I like you too.” You smiled wide, looking quite proud of yourself. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Make me,” you said. And you went back to kissing.

Patrick had no problem with saying you were his girlfriend. You’d decided that’s who you were when Patrick later found that you’d changed your name in his contacts to it. He told Art everything, talking about how he’d been missing out this entire time on kissing without sex. The feeling was new and exciting and Art clapped him on the back, trying not to laugh too much at the fact Patrick was a little crazy. But the craze died down.

Seeing you, kissing you, came so naturally to him it stopped being something of wonder, though he never really felt different about it. You were his first serious girlfriend in years. He was a pretty good boyfriend too. He was over all the time still, with the addition of being able to call you beautiful whenever he wanted to. He took a lot of pleasure in telling guys at the bar to fuck off when they tried to buy you drinks. He was a little possessive but in the hot way, not the controlling gross way. He liked that you wore short skirts when you went out, guys could look, they could try, but it was him who fucked you in the car before heading back home.

The sex was beyond good. Crazy good. But never the main focus. Patrick took a crazy liking to the fact you kissed his forehead and it was possibly the best feeling in the world when you fell asleep with your head on his chest. He was so serious about you. And he was more than head over heels for you.

It progressed pretty quickly due to the fact both you and Patrick had feelings for each other for a good while before properly dating. Look at Patrick, he was into you from the very day he met you.

“I think I’m going to order chinese,” you said from the kitchen. Patrick swung around the corner as you picked up the phone, looking over the menu. “The regular?” He nodded, enjoying his semi-domestic privileges, seeing you without makeup in his kitchen in his clothes. You hopped up on the counter and dialed the number as Patrick came to stand in front of you, hands resting on your hips. “Hi, I’d like to place an order for del-” Patrick, cheeky, kissed your neck, “- delivery.” You giggled a little nervously. You were so cute up on his counter he couldn’t not. “I’d like the four-piece…” You really tried getting through the order, pausing your order to kiss him quickly twice, trying to get him off you, but it didn’t quite work. “I’m sorry,” you said to the man on the other end of the line. “I want-” You couldn’t escape his kisses to your jaw. “Sorry-” You hung up the phone and Patrick picked you up off the counter and you hit the bed just moments later.

You had turned him into someone he didn’t know he could be. And it didn’t feel like he wasn’t himself. In fucking you, he had words at the tip of his tongue to melt into his string of praise for you, your body, the way you felt and those words were, ‘i love you’.

You were breathing hard, your head resting on his chest. “Couldn’t even let me order? I’m so hungry.” You sighed happily. Patrick was staring at the ceiling wondering how the fuck he loved you. That was a strong word. He’d only dated you for nearly two months. Your hand gently caressed his chest, his stomach, tracing patterns. No way he was in love with you so early on. But in reality, it wasn’t that early. He’d known you for eight months, liked you and only you for all of it, it made sense but the way it snuck up on him was crazy. So crazy he didn’t even tell Art about it. He just internalized it.

When two months rolled around, he scraped together a little more money than he really had on his budget and surprised you by taking you somewhere nice. It wasn’t a big anniversary, but for him, it was an achievement. Even Art was surprised, respectfully, that he’d made it so far.

“So the retrograde is one of the most dangerous times in a year because no matter who you are or what you’re doing, something is bound to change for you and it’s usually something drastic.” You said, eating your food. He was thinking one thing and those three words just echoed around his head. “Patrick?”

“Exes come back, no travel,” he nodded, showing you he was listening. You smiled and he was only thinking about how perfect you were.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked, stealing a fry off of his plate. Of course, at a nice place like this, Patrick still ordered a burger. “You’re all quiet. Not that I mind it.” You giggled just a little. He had the cutest girlfriend, he knew that. He had the cutest girlfriend and he was in love with her. You.

“I’ve never had a two-month anniversary before.” He admit, his elbows on the table. Your eyes widened just a little. He smirked just a bit. “No mocking.”

“Me? I would never,” you said, shooting him a sly grin. You let the slyness dissipate, eyes growing sweet and genuine. “I’m glad it's us.”

“Me too.” He nodded. For the first time in his life, he was sure of something and it was you. You were here with him and it was all still new, but god, it was great. He had a perfect, funny, sexy, gorgeous, and smart girlfriend and he didn’t even have to travel to a parallel universe to master commitment. Patrick being Patrick wouldn’t get too mushy on you, wouldn’t tell you that he found it a little surreal to be across from you in your black velvet dress. Across from a girl who he never really thought he would have or sleep next to. This girl who is literally always there, no matter what or which home he goes back to at the end of the day. You were his best friend. But he wouldn’t say any of that shit. The difference was that he felt it, not that he turned into a sap.

He was feeling a lot. He gladly paid for dinner. “Thank you. It was really really sweet for you to do this.” You said, slipping your hand into his. Your hand was smaller than his was and you were somehow always just a little bit colder than he was. The two of you headed out into the parking lot, where you leaned against his car, still holding his hand, even when he pulled out a cigarette. You were so gorgeous bathed in the neon purple of the restaurant sign. The bustle of busy streets nearby was white noise. He let you have the first drag, he always did. Your fingers stayed intertwined with his and you looked at him in a way he really hadn’t ever been looked at. He couldn’t believe he’d never committed to a girl when he looked at how things were with you. You were perfect, entirely, head to toe and inside and out. He couldn’t believe how much time he’d wasted meaninglessly when looking at one person just felt so right.

You blew the smoke in his face, a running joke about the first time you’d smoked together and he did it to you. You never let it go. Eternal payback, you called it. You giggled as he raised his eyebrows at you, taking the cigarette as you passed it to him. The silence, or near-silence was comfortable. It wasn’t traced with lust, it wasn’t dripping in alcohol, it couldn’t ever mean nothing, It couldn’t ever be nothing, even while being silence. “You’re pretty,” Patrick said unprovoked, inhaling and turning his head to blow the smoke into the breeze. It wasn’t entirely unprovoked. It was you.

“Stop it, I’m blushing.” You grinned back at him. Your thumb grazed back and forth on the back of the hand that you held tight. You pretended to tuck your hair behind your ear in a mock-nervous manner. “Truth is… I have a huge crush on you.”

“No way,” Patrick said, coughing just the slightest bit, smoke leaking out his lips. He smirked with that gorgeous, sly fox kind of grin, his dimple in full view. You pulled him into a kiss by the hand that you held, the taste of smoke on both of your lips, both of you smiling into it. Your hands only unlocked for his hand to slide around your waist and pull you close whilst your hand went to his jaw. Your back pressed to the door of his car. He swore he could never get sick of kissing you. Spontaneously, the way you liked. Sometimes to shut you up or to make you stop laughing so much. He pretended like you annoyed him, and kissed you to keep you quiet. Kissing you in his kitchen, on the couch, in front of the men who wanted you soooo badly. Intimate kissing, kissing with the intention of sex, or just a kiss to your temple or cheek in passing on the way out the door. He felt it almost overwhelmingly. Those three words were on the tip of the tongue that was currently slipping into your mouth.

You pulled him closer, that cigarette still burning in his opposite hand that he held away from you. He was never this kind of guy, he had never felt this way in his life. The kiss slowed just a little to your occasional few short and sweet kisses and he had the space to, so those words tipped off his tongue. “I love you.” He said. He didn’t plan it, but they fell out and into the space between you. He must have seemed like the biggest, most pathetic red flag in the world. But he said what he meant. He loved you. He’d never loved anyone. He’d never said that to anyone in a romantic context. He wasn’t sure of anything about this situation but he was sure he meant it.

Telling you put him into a limbo of vulnerability that he didn’t foresee. Your heart skips a beat. It’s so early on, there’s no way you heard him right. There’s no way he just said what he said, not tonight, not at two months. You weren’t prepared or ready or expecting it at all. Especially from him, who had sweet things to say but they were rare and usually perfectly imperfect. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck? Panic spread into your chest, anxiety to follow. He said ‘I love you’, Patrick Zweig told you he loved you. Here. Now. And without thinking, you kiss him. It’s a stronger kiss, you’re kissing him as the emotions bubble up inside you, threatening to boil over. You’re hoping to drown out his words. Did he mean them? Did he mean them the way you would potentially want?

You kissed him again and again, over and over, tongue and everything, and the air is filled with only that. No words, only that. The cigarette slowly burned out on the ground, and both of your hands cupped his face, his jaw, keeping him close, keeping his mouth steadily on yours. You’re filling your mouth with him, no words, nothing else but kissing him hard. The pauses in between only for breaths, nothing more. You go to kiss him again, but his head moves backward, out of your reach, pulling back from you.

You stepped forward, chasing his lips, trying to kiss him again, but he moved backward. “What are you doing?” He asked, his voice laced with hurt. You’ve never heard him in this tone before. You tried to kiss him again, but he gently stopped your hands from having their leverage. “Hey- stop. What are you doing?” He repeated.

Your lower lip settled between your teeth. “I- I don’t know.” You replied, flustered. Your nose is pink and your eyes are apologetic. Patrick feels his chest tighten. He’s never felt that before in his life, it feels a bit like he can’t breathe. He can’t tell how your mind is racing over what to do, what to say. He can’t read you other than knowing you didn’t say it back.

“You don’t know?” His eyebrows are furrowed and his face is close to yours and your hands are resting flat on his chest. “Y/N.”

“I know.” You replied pressing a hand to your face. It’s too early. This was too early. This was so soon, you couldn’t know if you loved him yet, it was so soon. You’d be lying to say you loved him back and you just couldn’t do that to him or to yourself. His face was full of hurt, his heart was beating against his ribcage. He said it with a conviction, with a sureness that was hard for him to find. He couldn’t muster those words on the phone with his mom but he said them to you. Here. Now. “I’m sorry.”

His face was still close to yours. His big hands removed yours from your face, seeking some sort of answer that wasn’t an apology. How could he have said that and your response is to say, ‘I know, I’m sorry’? What the fuck was that? Did you love him? Could you?

“You didn’t say it back,” he said, keeping his voice clear and steady. He wants to say those three words again, but he won’t now. Part of him, another new, undiscovered piece of him is fucking terrified. “Y’know, that’s fine, it’s-” he pulls away from you entirely.

You step after him again, feeling the guilt knot in your chest, “No, Patrick- I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine, I want to go home, let's go home.” He says. He’s putting up that front of his. He had never felt physical pain from anything emotional in his life. Never. Not once. So the fact your lack of words felt like a winding punch to the chest was pretty fucking distressing. He wasn’t actually sure what the protocol was when a person said an unreciprocated ‘I love you’, he’d never been in this situation before. He just knew that it hurt. And this was probably why he’d never committed to anyone before. To avoid this. This pain in his chest that was so fucking stupid and pointless.

“Patrick,” you pleaded, practically chasing him as he walked around the car to the driver’s side. “Hey, stop-” He doesn’t. “Stop! Please. Patrick. Patrick.”

His voice was just a little harsh. “Yeah?” He opened the car door, turning to you.

You looked up at him, a little desperate to be heard over the hurt you knew he was feeling. The guilt of it was actively eating at you. “It was just so soon. I didn’t see it coming, it’s only been two months.”

“I know.” He replied, expression seeming cold, but surprisingly soft. “I’m sorry.”

“No, Patrick, stop. I can’t lie to you and say I’m there yet, but I want it more than anything. And I just need time.” You explained just a little frantically. “I’m not ready.”

He sighed, looking out over the parking lot. He shook his head and looked back at you. “I’ve never said that to anyone. I’ve never loved anyone. Not like this. I didn’t think I could. Or would. But it’s you, so I’m fucked, aren’t I? Spoke too soon, I guess.”

“No, Patrick, it was perfect. God, I hate that I can’t say it back yet. Key word is ‘yet’, because I absolutely adore you and I care about you so much, there’s nobody on this earth that I want to love more, but it’s so early on. I guess I’m scared. What if you don’t mean it?”

“I love you.”

“What if you stop meaning it?”

“I love you.”

“What if we are rushing into this?”

“I’ve liked you since you first smiled at me, you drove me crazy, Art said I needed my head checked. You with your stupid low-cut shirt and you smiling at me and I was done. No more girls, no more numbers in my phone, just you. You and your astrology bullshit, you and your collection of sweaters, and your perving landlord. You. I’ve never felt like this ever, I’ve never been more sure of anything because nothing has ever scared me this much in my entire life. I mean it, I’ll continue to mean it if you let me, and I know I’m not rushing into anything because however long you think I’ve liked you, it’s so much fucking longer.” He stated. He sounded angry, but he really wasn’t. He had never had that many words, let alone words he fully and wholeheartedly and somehow poetically meant. This was how he knew you were different. You’d killed a bachelor. A good one. One who had been at it for years.

You smiled like you were relieved. It was a sweet smile, like the one that you’d sported when he first ordered a drink from you. “You mean all of that?”

“Don’t make me say it again, please,” he chuckled just a little, crooked smile coming back. “Yes, I mean it. It freaked me out, I feel like I’ve been possessed by the spirit of the guy who sings Careless Whisper, but it’s all me.” Your smile grew wider. He bat you off, shaking his head again. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything,” you smiled. “Patrick… I am going to love you. I am actively falling in love with you, it’s terrifying, but it’s thrilling and I don’t want to stop. I just need a little more time.”

He nodded, looking down at his feet. You stepped closer, cupping his face. One of the many intimacies he’d never known until you. Soft hands on his face. “I didn’t know I had so many emotions I feel like…”

“Don’t joke.” You said. He honestly couldn’t anyway, looking at you. His smile fell to something neutral, eyes looking over your face, your perfect features. Whether you loved him back yet or not, he was lucky to have you.

“Don’t take too long,” He said solemnly, meeting your eyes. But the expression only lasted a few seconds before his arrogant little smirk crept back up. “If you don’t say it back in time I’m going to turn into a girl.”

You laughed, “Oh please.”

“It’s true.” He nodded. “Very serious thing that happens.”

“Patrick.”

“Yeah?”

“You remember when I started giving you free shots? Earlier that night, you were over at mine and you were eating Skittles and you ate all of the ones I don’t like out of the bag. And it kind of hit me that you were…that I liked you. A lot. It’s so much worse than yours. But it was then on. That’s ‘a while’.”

He grinned at your callback, laughing at how stupid that was. He grimaced just a little, smile unchanging. “Skittles?”

“Skittles.” You replied, nodding. He pushed your hair behind your ears and pulled you into another kiss. One that wasn’t trying to drown anything out. Gentle hands in a gentle, perfect, feeling-filled kiss. Patrick truly didn’t know he had so many things to feel. And it was all for you. He’d been getting used to this sort of thing. It might have been the best thing to ever happen to him. He wasn’t changed in any way that truly mattered, but when it came to you, he was completely turned off to the idea of having it any other way. You kissed him back and he felt like he finally had done something right, which was lacking for him in all areas of his life.

“I feel myself turning-” you kissed him again. “-into a girl.”

“We’ll go bra shopping,” you said, kissing him again.

“That would make you-” you kissed him once more. “-bisexual.”

“Then we’re truly a match made in heaven.” You teased. He kissed you hard one more time for good measure before really getting into the car and driving home. He knew you’d come around sometime. Didn’t stop him from feeling the way he did at all.

It was just an odd Tuesday two months later, Patrick had the laundry basket in his hands, holding the door for you as you grabbed your keys and your wallet. He was going to the laundromat, you were going to work. “You’ll come visit me later?” You asked, heading out the door.

“Yeah, around eight.” He nodded, leaning in and kissing you goodbye. “Mmm- Bye.”

“Bye, Patrick. I love you.” You smiled as you walked ahead to press the elevator button for him, hopping down the stairs. You were gone in a flash, leaving him where he was, grinning what was probably the widest he’d ever smiled. He shook his head, laughing quietly to himself as he got in the elevator. He’d see you at eight.

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cowgirlcherrie · 1 year ago

Text

THE PRINCESS DIARIES — *ೃ༄

rockstar! ellie x princess! fem! reader. wc: 11.4k

synopsis: discovering your sense of self after a lofty adjustment to the throne, your guitar-wielding ex-fling shows you that you shouldn’t hate the world.

warnings: 18+. MDNI Sarah is alive in this and is r! best friend, Abby cameo, WOC coded fem! reader, mentions/talks of death, jealousy, smoking (Ellie smokes cigs), bickering, arguing, enemies to lovers, closely inspired by The Princess Diaries movie, mean-ish! Ellie, cursing, rushes to perfection, panic attacks r! has one, anger management classes/ anger issues, Ellie is kinda reckless in this, College-modern! Ellie adjacent, kissing, mentions of hook-ups. best friends sister kinda thing, petnames (princess, dear, baby), kinda slow burn

━━ ♪ Enchanted by taylor swift, I know you by faye webster

a/n: hi my loves this is an almost 200 followers gift, because I love you guys all so much and I'm so glad that you are supporting and enjoying my work, please enjoy because this is a long but sweet one similar to my totally clueless work, inspired by one of the cutest movies everrr - 100% inspired by this art that I’ve seen as welll♡♡

It was time to trade your t-shirt and skirts for dresses, converses to heels. Rags to riches. Royalty knocked on your door like a death sentence, and you were sick of it.

“Did you seriously give my cat a tiara?”

This was not the first thing you wanted to see coming back to your dorm after a dreadful 3-hour class. Your precious golden locked tabby resting on your pink decorative pillow with a toddler tiara on his head — contrasting the scowl on his face as soft meows left his mouth in discomfort. He almost looked like yourself. Bitter and dissatisfied.

This seemed to be an everyday occurrence. Your vivacious roommate, Sarah Miller, loved to tease you about the title you hated the most. Royalty. With Royalty comes nobility and class. The ball gowns, prestige, and perfection almost made you want to throw up at the sight of it. But you couldn’t bail for the sake of Glendale being without a ruler or the public shame, you couldn’t back out – It was far too late.

When the words Princess Hier fell out of your grandmother’s mouth, you felt every wall of comfort fall down. A safety shell forms around your body, fighting the change. The change was supposed to be good, but this felt mentally taxing. Not like it was the end of the world — however, to your peace and serenity it was. Moderately shying away from public acknowledgment would be more conventional to you.

“Isn’t he cute, a little prince…of Glendale” Sarah laughed, rubbing your cat’s face to which he jumped off the bed, hiding underneath the plush mountain that was your mattress. All you could do was groan. Throwing your body dramatically onto your bed, The Jackon U baby tee on your body lifting up slightly to expose your stomach as you inhaled and exhaled deeply.

“Wish I could retire myself from the royal family” you dragged, looking at your phone now to see the arrangements of messages. Specifically, the one from your grandma saying you had princess training and a brunch with her at 5 tomorrow.

“Isn’t that all we ever dreamed about…hell you even have a personal bodyguard,” Sarah emphasized, “How cool is that!” the girl sat on her bed, painting her nails a plush pink color humming the tune of the Ariana Grande song that she recently bought on vinyl.

Sarah was right, whilst it sounded good, the thought of exchanging your personal freedoms for a title disgusted you. How were you to be the people’s princess when you couldn’t even navigate adulthood properly? It was strikingly overwhelming. Your mother, coddling you away from the fate of your future just made it worse.

You groaned again, “Next subject…”

“Will you be here tomorrow? Going to Ellie’s, the band is practicing for the Spring Festival” Sarah inquired while blowing on her nails with ease. Right…Ellie. Your sworn enemy Ellie, Sarah’s sister…Ellie. She was enigmatic to you, certainly, the type you don’t bring home to Mama, just a rebellious firecracker. You could smell the faint aroma of cigarettes and wood just by thinking about her. Her presence was frustrating to you. Surely she felt the same.

You weren’t sure how you have come to dislike Ellie, it seemed set in stone, written off in the stars for the two of you. At the first meeting, you thought everything was perfect. That she would be a friend, not a foe. You found Ellie to be quite pretty, with short hair and tattoos to contrast your girly attitude. She wore a large leather jacket when you first met her. Cigarette hanging lowly from her lips as she smiled at you. Chartreuse orbs twinkled as her hand was out for yours to shake. You were naive, she was an arrogant know-it-all, but not with you.

Wherever there was Sarah, there would certainly be you, the blonde dragging you to every event, every show. You were Sarah’s cheerleader, Ellie’s too. You recalled the night you and Ellie got stuck stargazing on the rooftop of the science building. It seemed downhill from there, an accidental liplock where you made home with her lips on yours. The pillow-like clouds that encompassed your own, despite her rough attitude, she was gentle with you.

Her hands held your waist as if you were fragile. She kept pushing, kept kissing until her cheeks were flushed red and breathing seemed obsolete. She kissed like she would never see you again, as if you were dissipating in her hands. With Sarah to your rescue, Ellie had to ruin the moment by saying, “Don’t tell anyone”

So you didn’t. It was your little secret. Pushing your newfound feelings aside and instead found yourself wandering eyes to Lacrosse player #5, Abby Anderson. The first time you brought it up, you were certain that Ellie Williams officially despised you.

“There’s this girl…I really wanna get with her by the end of the semester” You told Sarah, the two of you sitting in the band basement’s brown couch. The two of you gossiped after her band practice. You swore that there were only the two of you in the room, not caring to whisper or lower your tone.

“Oh my…what’s her name?” Sarah whispered as she leaned into your figure, prying for more.

“Abby, on the lacrosse team.” You confessed making Sarah’s jaw drop in shock.

“No way, everyone fucking wants Abby! She’s hot though, and you’re hot too…If the two of you were alone in a room I think you truly could hook up with her!” Sarah chimed in, nodding her head in pleasure. You could only giggle. “No way”

“Yes!..way!”

“No—”

“I don’t see it” Ellie spoke up making her presence known in the room. Walking to where her guitar stood on the stand to unplug it from the amplifier. Your body jumped at her sudden entry, the pitter-patter of your heart, beating like a knocker on the door. You weren’t sure if it was her presence that made you nervous or if it was the fact that she was saying no, to you seeing someone else.

Was it anxiety? Fear? Or sadness? Possibly all 3.

“Huh,” you mumbled, smile dropping as you eyed her figure who wasn’t paying attention to you. Vision getting cloudier by the second.

“Just saying…you’re gullible, overly trusting and fuckin’ virginal…she’ll wreck you – probably hit n’ quit [Ellie!]” The sound of glass shattering replayed in your head. Your lips were separated, but a sound refused to escape your lips. Waterline full of crystal clear tears as the room, and the girl in front of you grew shiny. The words that Ellie said sticking with you. It was cold and low of her, Ellie even knew she might have gone too far, masking her feelings with the coldness that felt like a warm hug to her. Ellie knew better, finally looking at you, her heart tearing at the sight of disbelief on your face. Watery eyes, she was fucked up. But Ellie wanted you to let it go. She wanted to let you go.

It wasn’t for her, hell it was for you. If Ellie wasn’t so emotionally constipated she would have changed her mind and been honest with you. The way your glossed lips felt on hers that night, she could get used to you being hers, that’s all she could ever dream about since it happened. Since you shook her hand the day the two of you first met. She wanted you to be hers.

Ellie Williams was a first-class asshole.

Now you never ended up dating Abby, hell you wish you did. Choosing to drop your little crush and focus on yourself instead. Especially after finding out your royal status, love seemed immature, and off the table – almost overrated. Others, however, thought the future was bright for Ellie and yourself. Sarah was convinced the two of you would end up dating in the future, often rambling about how the both of you would hate each other so much, that you end up infatuated with each other. All bullshit.

Lies.

“Just hearing her name makes me barf!”

“You’re so dramatic!” Sarah yelled, shaking her head at your response “M’not going”

“It’s from 2-4 and I know you aren’t doing anything, just come! You get to hear the song I’ve been working on for the past week and a half…please” Sarah began, her voice was convincing. Hell, she was always a little too convincing, you couldn’t find it in yourself to ever tell the sweet girl no. You were getting ready to shake your head, giving the girl a guilty look as she pleaded some more, this time she fluttered her eyes at you, hopping off of her bed to come onto yours shaking her hand on your shoulder. “Sorry…Sarah”

“Pleaseee…I’ll make sure Ellie doesn’t bother you!”

Your eyes snapped open. “Out of sight, out of mind — I’ll come” you hissed as Sarah only jumped in excitement, throwing her body down to hug your figure. Making you let out a huff in surprise, followed by a laugh at the sudden weight. It was times like this that you enjoyed with your best friend. The moments where she said yes, and you said no but she’ll change your mind and in the end, remorse wasn’t something you felt.

But then you thought back to people who weren’t Sarah, the rest of the band…Ellie, your little princess secret wasn’t out yet hell you haven’t even given it the green light. People talk like trees in the wind. It was only a matter of time before the tabloids got sold a story and your face was plastered on every newspaper.

JNU PRIDE? Princess of Glendale goes to Jackson U

Princess of Glendale likes to kiss girls!

Princess of Glendale…party monster?

Your brain combusted at the thought of seeing you headlining the news with some obnoxious title. You dreaded it — looming over you like a giant storm cloud. You shoved Sarah off of you, staring at the girl with your pinky out, “Can you promise me something?” You started, eyes full of seriousness and a fury like no other, you were no longer laughing.

“You cannot tell anyone [Ellie?] not even Ellie, about my princess duties…not yet, I’ll do it on my own.”

Sarah now was mirroring your serious expression, kissing her pinky softly before wrapping it around your own with great force and weight.

“You’re secret safe with me…Princess”

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

Somewhere along the way you were sure anyone could see the steam blowing out of your ears in anger. Sarah, while convincing, was not convincing enough. You should have opted out. Sitting on the rundown sofa in the band’s garage, You were certain Ellie was going to snap your head off. Part of you wondered why you still didn’t like the girl, was it her cockiness, overly large ego, or the way her hair shined like a fresh berry in the sun, or the constellation-like freckles on her—

“What are you doing her– is that my sweater?” the redhead rolled her eyes while tuning her guitar. Ellie’s eyes looked you up and down, slowly tracing her eyes from the pearl white knee-high socks, and black mini skirt before landing on the blue graphic crewneck you wore. Her once soft gaze now hardened, as if she suddenly had the realization of where the two of you stood.

“This is not yours…it’s Sarah’s” You snap, crossing your arms across your chest. Ellie was next to you on the couch, The familiar scent of cigarettes and wood drowning your nostrils, it was intoxicating. Like fumes of a fire.

“...and where do you think Sarah got it from?” Ellie responded with a condescending tone in voice. She was pushing your buttons today, maybe slightly harder than she actually does.

“I Don’t remember you being such a —”

“Such a what–”

You paused. Ellie looked away from her guitar to now glaring at you. Ellie’s hand was up to her ear, queuing that she was listening, eyebrows raising slightly. Your lips sealed tightly, as you sunk your body into the couch, trying to camouflage yourself from her vision. The room suddenly felt small. Air thick almost choking you.

“Thought so” Ellie spat, dismissing you with her hand while she continued to tune her guitar. Bitch, you muttered under your breath, now looking around to see if Sarah suddenly decided to make her re-entry. “Heard that”

The room was silent once more. The strumming of Ellie’s fingers hitting the G or the B chords filled the room, assisted by your small coughs. You could feel her body heat radiating to you, despite being so close yet so far on the couch – a noticeably large gap between the two of you.

Ellie now rested her guitar flat on her lap, digging through her pockets and taking out a black light, along with a pack of Marlboro reds. Placing the toxin between her lips – cupping her free hand to block the wind from the flame. Ellie shook her head to herself as she exhaled the smoke.

“How are you?” she questioned out of the blue, tucking the lighter back in her pocket.

This was weird. Highly, extremely weird. The two of you bickered so much that you forgot what a normal conversation with her felt like. “How was your day?” was enough to break the ice, it surely was better than a “go home” or some outrageous insult she could think of. She was making small talk. Cheap chat.

“Fine…yeah I’m alright” you mumbled bringing a finger up to your mouth, chewing away at the flesh surrounding your nail. The pregnant silence filled the air again, Ellie’s bracelet jingled as she brought the cigarette to and from her mouth. Her left leg now bouncing up and down. “How…about you?”

Your eyes darted to the cigarette, watching as it burned quickly, the ashes building up, while Ellie would wait for the ash to build before cutting it away in the tray.

“Fuckin’ fine too…” Ellie’s raspy voice wavered, almost as if she wasn’t trying to convince you more so herself. Her sudden movements were screaming that there was something that she wanted to say. The pace of her leg bouncing sped up while she also flipped the lid of her cigarette box opened and closed, almost feening for another stick in her mouth – perhaps the whole box.

“You don’t…look fine” You challenge, tilting your head at the girl next to you.

“Thanks, captain, fuckin’ obvious…not that you would care though” Ellie combatted, blowing the cigarette smoke away from your face. This time her hand was tangled in her hair, threading her fingers through her hair before pushing them back out and to the nape of her neck.

You shrugged “M-Maybe I do…”

“Oh sure, you do” Ellie laughed sarcastically, putting out the end of her cigarette, followed by a cough.

“You fuckin pry to everyone around you…or just me?” Ellie was getting mean. She didn’t mean to, the delivery of everything she would say getting more aggressive, and that was frustrating her even more. The girl swore she was working on being a better communicator – requested by Sarah who had to check Ellie for everything she said.

“Yeah, I totally pry to fucking bitchy assholes!” You yelled at Ellie. The tone of the room was shifting, the hostility growing back with swiftness.

“You and your prissy little attitude…”Ellie began, shaking her head as she turned her body this time to look at you, shrugging off the guitar from her lab, instead placing it next to the couch “You think Abby would have put up with how much of a brat you act?... Sorry Princess don’t think so” Ellie finished, clenching her jaw as she let out a heavy sigh.

“So this is what it’s about? Abby?” Your voice was harsh, as your body was also facing Ellie, this time the gap between the two of you was closing.

“Who— what the fuck? Who said this was [you did!] the fuck? I didn’t, [you literally said that!] I mentioned Abby [which was months ago!]...shut up! and you got selfish [and you’re not?] Yeah actually!” the two of you were going back and forth this time. Talking over each other as your voices got louder and louder. Abruptly ending as Ellie reached out to grab your shoulders to get you to stop speaking.

“Get off!” You shouted. Tugging at Ellie’s hands – they only seemed to get tighter.

“Listen, I think…in some other shitty universe we truly could have gotten along with each other…you wouldn’t hate me and I wouldn’t hate you.” Ellie slipped, vulnerability spilling out of her mouth like water, that was the last straw.

Your eyebrows furrowed, “Why do YOU hate me?” Ellie was silent at your question, but it gave you everything you need to know. You kissed your teeth, laughing to yourself as you shook your head in disappointment.

“Well I’m glad it isn’t this one” you responded. Your voice was like a smack to the face. Ellie’s hands fell limp at your shoulders, loosening their weight now giving you room to peel them off as you stood up from the couch. After a quick smooth-out to your skirt, and grabbing the black purse that was next to you, all Ellie could do was watch as your figure walked further and further away.

As you opened the door, Sarah was now making her grand return, occupied by her cell phone but pulling you aside. From all Ellie could see, was your urgency to leave, Her fingers found their way to her lips rubbing them as she cursed under her breath. Sarah shifted her head to lock eyes with Ellie, Narrowing them. Making Ellie quickly turned into her seat sinking in the chair, bringing her hands up to shield her head. Ellie’s head was rushing – like a file cabinet with disorganized folders. Your absence was sealed with the slam of the door behind you, making Ellie exhale.

Sarah cleared her throat, anger deep in her voice, “Ellie what did you do?”

Ellie exploded, “FUCK!”

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

“Straighten your spine, chin up, relax the shoulders”

This time, you were at your Grandmother’s Mansion It was almost impossible to relax when all you could think about was Ellie’s words to you prior. Her words played in your brain like a broken VCR, your body tensing at the thought of it. The hunch you had of the rebellious girl hating you plagued your thoughts, did she really mean that? Whilst you might have disliked the girl for her abrupt change in attitude you certainly didn’t hate Ellie. Your heart tore at the fact that she visibly felt the opposite.

“Princess, where is your head?...” your grandmother shouted with concern, you still couldn’t focus on your princess training lessons. Shrugging the book off of your head, used to control your posture, now choosing to place it in your lap as you sat next to your grandmother by the outdoor water fountain.

“Dear, should we cut to tea time [No! Let’s keep going]…?”

“I don’t think I could do this” you exhaled, fiddling your fingers on top of the book. You didn’t wanna cut yourself short, but all you could do was hermit and hide yourself away. All for some petty argument.

“Do what, dear?”

“This Princess…stuff – all respect! But I just don’t think it’s for me” you concluded, your words left a bitter taste in your mouth, putting your head down while you refused to look at your grandmother. You knew her face would be frowning, the wrinkles on her face exaggerating her apparent disappointment, displaying every bit of her age. Your hands started to grip your skirt, twisting and turning the fabric before finding a strand of thread, pulling the lining through as white web-like thread pooled in your hands.

“Okay…What’s wrong? Boy or Girl drama?” Your grandmother asked as if she was onto your behavior – She was reading you like a book. Her frail and boney hands reached over to grab at yours to stop you from pulling the threads of your skirt. You rubbed your gloss lips together, feeling the sticky substance provide you with mild comfort.

“Do you think I’m hateable…Grandma?” You blurted out, voice small, barely coming out as a whisper, snaking your hand tightly to your grandma’s that was on top of yours. The older woman gave your hand a squeeze “Oh dear, that’s nonsense – you are wonderful! Slightly rough around the edges, but you are an amazing daughter, I’m sure you’ll make an excellent princess…an even better lover”

Your Grandmother gave you just the affirmation you needed, negative thoughts whisking away one by one. The elder abruptly stood up, fixing her tiara and pantsuit holding one arm out in front of you.

“Let’s walk, we have a lot to chat about” Her English accent was thick but she sounded elegant and proper. Great care and delicacy came with her voice. You followed her footsteps locking your arm with hers. The two of you walk through the courtyard, moving at a slow pace but perfect enough for the older woman to give you a lecture.

“The royal ball is this Saturday, followed by your induction ceremony on Sunday, I would like to know your decision” She discussed to which you let out a groan. The truth was you hadn’t made a decision yet, drowning yourself in academic work and the Ellie drama, it surely was the last of things you wanted to be focused on.

“I–”

“I know what you’re thinking, your father was the same way too.” Your lips folded into each other at the mention of your father. You didn’t quite know the man, hell after his death your mother never mentioned him. Living with your mother in the refurbished firehouse, haunted by the pictures of him that felt like a pure imagination – Nothing other than a dream. No letter, no heirloom, nothing. But this certainly was something, right?

“You know Y/n you are just like him, even down to the looks – a spitting image of that man” Your grandma started, making you tilt your head at the analogy, “But what makes you different is your honesty, your father never knew what he wanted, except for the fact that he was adamant on trading royalty for a mundane type of love”

“He abandoned the throne?” You mumbled, looking away from your grandmother and facing the greenery in the garden. Tough conversations come at the time that you felt were improper. This was really not the conversation you were in the mood to have. Did she think you’d do the same?

The elder bit her tongue, “In simple terms, yes” A heavy sigh escaped your lips – not failing to go unnoticed by the older woman alongside you. “But I have a proposal for you…” Your grandmother began, this made your ears perk up, stopping her walk so you could hear her loud and clear. Perhaps if it wasn’t for the obnoxiously pollinated shrubs triggering your allergies, you could have heard her better.

“I think it would be great for you to find a date for the ball” Your eyes went wide almost like two tennis balls. There was no way that you would find one. Sarah had a date with some guy Saturday, and your other friend Dina had mumbled something about band practice. It just seemed near impossible. In full honesty, you’d rather be alone.

“Grandma, if I’m being honest…I don’t have anyone” You confess shyly, rubbing your hands at your temples and feeling the faint pulse come along. Certainly, Tylenol or a bandaid couldn’t fix the issue you were having.

“Your presence is still expected…I hope you think about it well, Princess”

If you thought you were dead, you certainly would have so wished now. The faint noise of whispered arguing filled your ears – muffled but with bass, while your head was tucked into a pillow. It almost sounded like bees gossiping in a hive. Noisy and irritant. All the noise seemed to stop when you let out a groan, twisting your body to face the white wall. Despite being in your sleepy state, the presence of warm bodies didn’t fail to interrupt the intimate moment you were having with your sheets. Your eyes fluttered open, blurry vision adjusting with a rub to the delicate skin around your eyes – body sitting up with vastness. Turning towards Sarah’s bed, your body jolted at the sight in front of you. Sarah sitting on her bed, staring at you with concern – Ellie to her left, looking at you with fear and sadness. Ellie was giving a pity look, and she never gave one of those. Something was wrong.

“What’s wrong with you both? Why do you look like that?” You snapped, the silence was overbearing. Uncomfortable almost. Snatching the bonnet off of your head, which dropped the silky blown-out silk press you had gotten done yesterday. Reaching over to your desk to grab the pink hair brush to smooth out your hair. It is still silent – still, from Sarah and Ellie’s end as they watched every movement you made, in fear almost. This was starting to frustrate you.

“Okay, seriously what’s up?” You grimaced, hopping off of your dorm bed to look at the alarm clock on your desk, seeing 9:45am flash repeatedly. The two were acting weird. Sarah gave Ellie a guilty glance, her lips parted as her blue orbs made their way back to you.

“Have you seen the news?” Sarah blurted out making Ellie tilt her head in irritation, “God Sarah shut up!” Ellie yelled, trying to silence the blonde next to her. Ellie gave you a nervous look, twirling the bracelet on her tattooed wrist. Clenching her jaw, Ellie now shielded her body away from you.

You squint your eyes at Sarah, “What news?” You question, “By the way, where the fuck is my phone? It’s literally nowhere to be found.”

Ellie dug her hand into her pocket pulling out your sleek phone covered in a pink protectant case – Why did Ellie have your phone? You speed walked over to the green-eyed girl, reaching to grab the device only making Ellie pull it higher from your reach.

“Ellie seriously” You whined, Your body almost falling on top of Ellie’s as she tried to hide your phone away from your hands. The two of you almost dancing, You would reach with one hand, and Ellie would dodge it by moving in the opposite direction of your hand. Ellie threw your phone onto your bed, the device landing with a loud thud as her hands caught your waist before you could run off. Squirming underneath her touch, you couldn’t stay still until she dug her nails into your waist making you scream.

“Ow! Fuck you! E–”

“Tell her Sarah” Ellie was giving Sarah a pissed look as she held you tightly at the waist. Your eyes darted from Sarah to Ellie, back to Sarah once more, “Now!”

“--Someone leaked your secret – Everyone knows that you’re a P-Princess!” Sarah yelled out, pushing her phone in front of your face. Making you halt all movement in your body. The words that flew out of her mouth made you dizzy, a queasy feeling washing over your body as the urge to double over and chuck out yesterday’s dinner lingered. Your body tensed in Ellie’s hands as your back fell against her chest – Ellie holding you upright, rubbing circles at your waist. This was foreign. Ellie showing sympathy to you, it felt weird to have her hands on your body again after the roof-top incident. But you didn’t give yourself time to process it for long, “W-What?”

This time you snatched her phone from her hands, looking at the articles in front of you. They were creepy photos, stalker-like almost. As if you had been watched for weeks. Photos of you on campus with Sarah, yearbook photos from high school, even you leaving your grandmother’s mansion. The titles were just as obnoxious.

“ROYAL LIVES ON! FIRST SPOTTING OF GLENDALE’S NEW SOON-TO-BE PRINCESS!”

“BFF’S FOREVER? INSIDE SCOOP OF THE PRINCESS’S LIFE AT JNU”

“Nononono” You rambled, scrolling through each article that only seemed to be never-ending. Your face was attached to these articles. HD pictures at that. You were exposed to the world. Assed out. Everyone knew what you couldn’t even understand yourself.

Your worst nightmare was coming true, and there was nothing you could do to stop it, especially with the Spring Festival happening today. It was the perfect recipe for disaster. Recalling Ellie’s hands at your waist, you shrugged the girl off in irritation as Ellie eyed your figure that was now pacing.

“This is bad! Like I’m screwed…Fuck Sarah, I’m so screwed” You ranted to your best friend, sadness turning to anger like a flip of a switch. “Hell, this article is wrong! I didn’t even say yes yet! It wasn’t my decision” You were on the verge of tears.

“I didn’t choose the throne!” you cried out again, this time sitting on your bed holding your head in your hands. Your cat, Mittens, ran to Sarah’s lap, resting his head on Sarah’s leg while letting out slow purrs.

“Sarah, Is she okay?” Ellie whispered, this time sincerity ran through her voice, as she looked at her sister this time, almost begging for directions on what to do. It wasn’t like Ellie to show that she cared, hell most would have thought she would have gained some satisfaction sentiment at the sight of seeing your world collapse, but it felt the opposite. Ellie felt guilty, sick to her stomach at the sight of your panic. Seeing your body rake in sobs, hands gripping at your sheets, tears like a never-ending river, “I don’t think so…I’ve never seen her act like this”

Sarah panicked, bringing her hand up to her mouth at the sight of your panic attack. She was sure if you weren’t stopped the dorm would have been absolutely demolished by the time you reached your cool down. It was true, crying was something you have never done in front of Sarah, hell not even your own mother. Your cool exterior was deteriorating, feeling your body suddenly lose control of itself, head spinning – nothing made sense anymore.

Sarah croaked, “Ellie…” making Ellie jump up from her position at the edge of Sarah’s bed rushing over to your figure. Ellie didn’t care if you were upset with her anymore, nor did the redhead care if you hated her. She didn’t want this for you. She wasn’t entirely an asshole.

Ellie did not care if you were going to fight her – potentially smack her for still being in your space, in this moment Ellie wanted to do something right, at least ease the fear that grew in your fiery heart. Ellie sat on your bed, applying her calloused fingers onto your shaky ones, giving a firm grip to your hand – detaching slightly as her hand trailed up your spine, moving your hair out from your face. Tingles exploded through your body at her sudden presence.

“Can you look at me…please?” Ellie’s voice was gentle. Different from her raspy aggressive tone that she consistently gave you. Your head was still facing towards your lap, but Ellie’s voice was enough to drive you out of the dreamy haze you were in, each inhale you took could be heard loudly through the room. A hand shot up to your heart.

“I can’t breathe…fuck– I can- I can’t” you whimpered making. Ellie squeeze her eye shut, cursing under her breath as she tapped herself back into the situation.

“Sarah, can you give us a sec?” Ellie was almost begging her sister, Her hands rubbing circles in your back, while she looked across at Sarah’s nervous state. Sarah nodded, getting off of the bed to slide her slippers on her feet. Gently putting her key lanyard around her neck – Sarah headed for the door, closing it softly behind her.

Ellie took the click of the door locks the opportunity to slide her hoodie off, leaving Ellie in a white tee. Recalling what she was learning in her anger management classes, something about controlling breaths and taking a step back to breathe – deciding now would be a good time to use the breathing exercises she learned.

Ellie dipped her body weight towards yours, her cool bare skin touching yours that was slightly warm, Your hand was entangled around your heart, practically scratching the fabric that was your lace tank top. Ellie pulled your body into a full hug, which at first you resisted, but the thumping of your heart slowed with applied pressure. “Okay breathe in and out…slowly” Ellie instructed.

You followed her exact words. Head buried into her chest as you continued the breathing exercises, following the tone of her voice. “Good job, Angel, you’re doing such a great job, one more time for me” Ellie led the breathing exercises, as she inhaled implying for you to follow suit, which you did. Closing with a prolonged exhale.

Ellie pried your body away from hers. Not caring that your body was sticky from the pool of thick sweat that ran down your forehead. Ellie stopped to eye your face, which was in a calmer state than before but she could still see the jittering from your body.

“We are gonna try something, I know you’re not a fan of me…but I really need you to trust me, I’ll never let you down, nothing’s gonna hurt you while I’m here” Ellie muttered, she was pleading you. Her voice was wobbly as she did so. God, Ellie would never say it out loud, but she was concerned, and worried for you. The freckled face girl just wanted you to be at ease. “I want you to list 5 things you can see in this room”

You pointed at your cat on the floor “Uh…Mittens”

That’s one.

You winced before continuing to try to find objects to focus on.

“My Hairbrush”

That’s two.

“Your bracelet”

That’s three.

“The mole on your cheek…underneath your eye”

That’s four.

“Come on baby, you’re doing so good for me…one more” Ellie praised, running her hand along your cheek.

“Your, eyes they–they’re a nice washy paled green”

Finally, five.

“Good job! Should we keep going?” Ellie was gentle – careful as if you were a piece of glass, but as much as you wanted to bicker with Ellie in front of you, you couldn’t find it in yourself to do so. But how close her body was to you and her ability to set your mind at ease was impressive.

You shook your head no, feeling a lot calmer than you have prior. Feeling the faint mixture of cotton and satin from the comforter on your bed, the hand that was around your chest loosened up, and the air was becoming clearer. You were getting grounded, the blurry haze that was your vision vanishing.

“Can I say one more thing” Ellie spoke up amidst the silence, “...I still don’t like you” you grumbled in between breaths, pulling your hair out of your face and behind your ears. Your tender laugh rang Ellie’s ears, making her do the same – Ellie rolled her eyes at your statement. Despite traveling through a panic attack you were the same old girl whose dislike didn’t seem to budge.

“Yeah, yeah…no you don’t”

“‘cause you hat—”

“Not anymore…maybe a dislike?…I don’t know I just, I-I think I owe that much to you” Ellie snapped. The tone of the room shifted back to seriousness. Ellie was getting vulnerable, throwing in the white towel, this was the moment she was certainly sure she didn’t wanna drag her dislike towards you anymore. The more she thought about it, she really didn’t hate you at all. Ellie was unraveling the tuff knot she made of dislike that she had balled up for you, pealing each layer back like a tangerine. It was all a facade, as her therapist called it. Just a way for her to mask her emotions and put a wall up for anyone who came a little too close to stimulating emotions other than sadness or anger. It was her fear holding her back. Your name was certainly dropped in her anger management classes hearing the same words that would leave Sarah’s mouth.

You don’t truly hate her, you love her but you’re too emotionally immature to deal with it.

You paused on the bed. Looking at Ellie in full this time, noticing that the girl next to you had discarded the hoodie she was wearing prior, and the conflicted scowl that rested on her face. That similar bitter look that you loved to give, yourself. Ellie was deep in thought, finding comfort in the silence that the two of you were sharing.

You smacked your lips,

“You know I have a ridiculous Royal Ball to go to – and no date?...my grandma was like bring somebody for comfort, and I…I realized I didn’t really have anyone, I mean of course I have Sarah and Dina but I’d go to my first ball with other royal people of the world and I’ll be entirely alone…God, I don’t know why I’m telling you this” you confess, almost laughing at the way the words were spilling out of your mouth.

Ellie was attentive, listening to every word you said.

“You know you have me right…I know I didn’t do a good job of making it known before…sorry- this is really hard for me…” Ellie started, puffing out her cheeks to exhale large sums of air – letting the bubble formed by her cheeks deflate. Ellie rubbed her hands on her thighs, up – and down before giving her legs a final squeeze,

“You look like you really need a friend right now, and I…I want to help you, of course your still fuckin’ annoying but let me help you…I don’t expect you to say yes, but…” Ellie cut herself short pausing to control her own breathing while you took this opportunity to speak.

“Ellie, I never thought in my entire 4 years of college that I would be asking you this, but what are the odds that you could be my fake date to the Ball?... It’s all pretend, you just have to act like you like me and we can go our separate ways” You reason, crossing your fingers as you dug them into the sheet to be hidden from Ellie’s field of vision. Ellie however caught the crossing of your fingers, darting her dilating pupils to her tattoo, rubbing a hand at the inked sinking into her skin.

“Can I wear a suit?” Ellie pondered, which brought a smile to your face. Ellie made you smile. “Wait…are you smiling at me?”

“No…I’m smiling at Mittens” you coughed, “behind you…”

“I’m just fucking with you…yeah I am”

“Well…stop fucking doing that you’re creeping me out!” Ellie whined, shrugging her body away from yours. Ellie didn’t wanna admit it but your smile was comforting. It made her want to give one back. Feeling her cheekbones stretch at the possibility of her chapped lips curling into a smile. It was foreign but for once Ellie didn’t feel entirely terrible for wanting to do it.

“Yes, Ellie you can wear a suit, even if you showed up in sweats I wouldn’t care…uh thank you for this!” you beamed with a twinkle in your eye.

“Don’t mention it” Ellie sealed. Giving you a light nudge on the shoulder. There was more silence to fill the air. But the air wasn’t thick anymore, and it didn’t feel like you had to walk on eggshells around anyone – the cloudy sky that was a room when you and Ellie coexisted faded away into a bright sun with a rainbow. You were pulled out of your thoughts at the sound of knocking on the door. This made your heart thump in fear watching the way the slender beige wood bounced with each pound.

“Guys! Uh… hate to ruin the moment but Spring Fest starts in 30 minutes and the band needs to warm up!” Sarah shouted from the other side of the door, making Ellie curse under her breath. Getting up from your bed as she ran to Sarah’s dresser to get her car keys.

“See you Sun–”

“Saturday, Ellie…”

“Right, right see you Saturday, your highness” Ellie was panting, out of breath as she did a shitty bow before bolting to the door and meeting Sarah that was on the other side. As the door clicked closed you could hear the faint sound of Sarah and Ellie bickering – their voices fading away as they got further and further away from the door. Letting out a heavy sigh of relief. Ellie’s signature scent lingered as the room suddenly felt cold at the absence of bodies.

Your body fell back bouncing against the mattress as Mittens crawled on top of a dark piece of fabric making you squint at the sudden dark material contrasting your pink sheets. It was Ellie’s sweater – shooing Mittens off of the sweater, you held the material in your hands, stroking the embroidery on the front. Pulling up the sweater to your nose where the scent of her cologne lingered, assisted with the faint tinge of dated tobacco.

Holding the fabric close to your chest, giving it a squeeze in your hands, as if you were giving it a hug. The smell helps to ease the come down from your panic attack, feelings of fear, and anxiety decaying. Ellie was helping you, in a lot of ways – and she didn’t even realize it.

You hated how her scent was enough to ground you and connect you back to reality from your overwhelming thoughts. It felt like a big game of chess, Ellie knocking over your king piece and swapping it out for one of hers.

She was starting to conquer your thoughts, but no longer in a negative connotation, your thoughts of her were evolving into adulation.

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

Saturday.

The mansion was busy this evening, servants and security moving fast while the decoration team had run through the two-story home being careful not to knock over the statues or fine-dining utensils. Meanwhile, you were sitting in your newly acclaimed bedroom, amidst the chaos. The room was previously your father's, remodeled for your benefit and appointing to the throne.

Your delicate hands slid the thick short dress onto your body. It was pink and white, synching at the waist – corset style, with the ruffles and layers of white fabric peeking beneath. There was a slight sparkle to the material on your body – feeling it cling tightly as specks of glitter got onto your gleaming moisturized skin. The assistant that was hired to assist in getting you ready for the ball pulled at the strings of your corset, applying pressure to tighten them.

With each pull back, your thoughts trailed off to Ellie – her suit, and what she would possibly wear tonight. You were undoubtedly nervous, having Royal officials meet you for the second time, which you hoped would go better than the first – but this time with the news out of everything about you. There was no more hiding who you truly were anymore. They would likely gossip about your GPA over a glass of prosecco.

“Princess…Is everything alright?” the assistant questioned as she snapped her fingers in front of your face making you jolt at the release of pressure.

“yeah…I’m alright – sorry…just thinking” you reply sheepishly, turning around to give her a gentle smile.

“Don’t apologize for thinking, it’s your first big day out of two! Plus you have prepared for this moment, and you have made great progress…Your grandmother is proud of you even though she doesn’t tell you, and I’m sure your father would be too”

You smiled at the mention of your Grandmother and her proudness, feeling complete at the abrupt praise. Recalling your father who you felt like you hardly knew but wish you did, building anything you know about him from pictures and stories.

“But I do…have something for you, which I feel is the right time for you to receive.” Your head whipped around almost giving you whiplash as the woman bent down to her folder picking out a white envelope that was sealed with pink wax.

“This is from your father, it was set to be given to you on your coronation day, but I think you deserve it now…I’ll give you some privacy” holding the flimsy white envelope in your hand, eyeing the molded wax, as your fingers traced across the handwriting that belonged to your father. Hearing the door close, you quickly walked to your vanity, sitting down with your back straight up as you gently slide your finger between the thin paper, prying it open to pull out a letter.

My little dove,

By the time you are reading this, I may be long gone, or you haven’t met me. Whether your mother chooses to tell you or not, I would like you to know that I love you and am so proud of the progress you have made that you feel goes unnoticed. If the cat is out of the bag, this would then mean that I am talking to y/n l/n metropolis vagn, Princess of Glendale, granddaughter of Elenor Metropolis Vagn, Queen of Glendale. It is a lot to take in, and I have left you with a big responsibility. Your decision will always be yours even if you feel that it is not.

Weeks prior, leading up to my death I had an intense conversation with your grandmother about the future of the throne. Where it sounds like a curse, I pleaded and I wished that I wanted you to take my rightful place at the throne with my absence. To take my crown, to take my seat at the dinner table, I was giving you everything. I wanted you to have every last thing I owned that I couldn’t be there to give you myself. Royalty is a big thing, and at my age, when I was 17 when I met your mother, I knew that I would have not been in the best of care to run it for long. God when your mother said she was pregnant with you, I knew that she would make a sweet, headstrong but hot-headed child like the both of us. I put trust in you, just seeing the twinkle of your little doe eyes the first day out of the womb, I knew I was looking at the future Princess of Glendale.

I think that it would be wise of me to tell you the story of my first coronation day as Prince. I was late to every meeting, I totally failed at prince practice and balancing a book on my head to learn perfect posture, waved with the wrong hand – I couldn’t even tell my big spoon from my little spoon, or which fork I used first to eat. It was improper and your grandmother was honestly sick of it. I was late…extremely late to my coronation. I took your mother on a date to the gardens that day, We shared our first kiss and it was magical, more magical than the palace walls that I lived in now, it was a deep connection I will never forget.

I took your mother to the ball, She wore pink to contrast my dark suit, but that didn’t matter. I think we complimented each other well, A pink rose corsage right above my handkerchief pocket oddly complimented too. I wore trainers to my first coronation – it was quite strange. My mother was actually sick of me. I naturally made conversation with the elders, and rulers of other places. But as soon as the crown was placed on my head, I left going with your mother to a drive-in movie while we ate messy cheeseburgers in our formal attire. It was such a sore soft moment, but at that moment I felt like I could have the best of both worlds, which I did – and I want you to know that you could have it too, I made sure of it.

Now that this is in your possession, I want this to serve as a reminder that you are equally important. More important than some rubbish title that I rather you choose yourself 100 times over nobility. You choose where you would be the most comfortable. You are to be sweet and divine – but don’t let anyone dim your light or take your future and enjoyment away from you.

I hope this serves as a reminder of my love for you, and an appreciation for your progress, can you believe you have made it this far?

With love and acknowledgment,

Your father, Prince of Glendale, removed from the throne to stretch to his offspring.

P.S it’s okay to fall in love, live a little darling!

Tears prickled your eyes, salted water falling down your face as you took a tissue off of the vanity being careful to dab the water to not ruin your makeup. A laugh escaped your lips, you weren’t crying of sadness you were happy. Genuinely happy. In other ways, it felt as if your father had been giving you a hug and guiding you right along the way during your moments of doubt. You needed that. His encouragement gave you the extra boost to get you through the next two days, while you were not only battling public recognition but fully devoting yourself to the throne.

Looking at yourself through the mirror, rolling your head, noting that it was time to fix your hair, which was currently in a half-up half-down look – placing the crystalized small tiara on your head. Sticking the note that Grandma left on the crown saying ‘just a warmup crown ;)’ on the cleaned glass. Your ringtone runs the air, answering swiftly to hear a raspy voice filling the air.

“Princess…I am outside the gate and there is some guy yelling at me that I have the wrong house” You groaned knowing she was definitely talking about Philip who was the same person who gave you a hard time the first time you visited the mansion. “First of all, don’t call me that…second I’ll be there hold tight”

“Hey! I’m—” you cut Ellie off by hanging up the phone with a swift click to the red button. You were nervous to see Ellie, the thought of what she could possibly be wearing stormed your thoughts, imagining a nicely fitting suit on her body, her hair free of any elastic.

You slid on your pink kitten heals – it was time to put on your acting face.

Right hand on the door knob, pausing to have a moment with yourself. You imagined that you were on a boat, the boat on sea rocking in the cold cerulean sea splashing its salty wakes against the curvature of the boat. Before a large tide comes in, waves crash — drowning out your boat. Slamming the door open, you pushed yourself forward dragging your body down the steps and being careful to not fall in your heels.

Right foot…step…left foot…step until you reached the door.

Waving with your right hand, proper, as your way of saying hello to the decoration team. 1 hour until guest arrival and you were feeling rancid. The morning tea in your veins pumps free adrenaline into you – giving you a slight pep in your step.

Running in your heels, which was also, unprincess-like, you reached the gate yelling at Philip through the intercom to let Ellie in. Hearing the locks loosening up as the drawback on the door revealed Ellie, in all her glory. She actually showed up…for you. Ellie was wearing a black suit, her white button down peaking under that was slightly open at her chest. Chuck Taylor classics on her feet which made you laugh. Thinking back to your dad's letter about him wearing trainers to his coronation day. You found it funny – ironic almost but expected that Ellie wouldn’t own dress shoes. Your brain headed back to the words your dad has gracefully written.

She wore pink to contrast my dark suit, but that didn’t matter. I think we complimented eachother well

This time, it was your pink dress to contrast her dark suit, and to you, this didn’t matter either. You too thought you complimented each other. Ellie walked with confidence towards you, as she bowed – one hand folded at her stomach the other behind her back as she bend her body down at you, “Your Highness”

Ellie was waiting for your approval. “God, Ellie…you’re such a kiss ass!” you snickered in amusement finding her figure bowed down before you. “You may stand now.”

“You do that again, I’ll make sure Philip drags you out of here” You finish making Ellie roll her eyes. Her gaze softened at the sight of you, eyes trailing from the tiara on your head down to your dress.

“You’ve looked worse” Ellie shrugged not wanting to fully give you the satisfaction of getting a compliment out of her. Ellie thought you looked stunning, a faint shade of red dusting over her cheeks, as she took in your outfit.

“Geez didn’t know you showered!” You hissed at the girl with a scoff, almost ruining the moment making Ellie throw a hand up in disbelief at your words. “There she is” Ellie sang as if she were expecting this to come out of your mouth any minute.

You looked at the girl fully this time, her Converse were dirty — of course not that you cared, and her hair was loose from any free restraints. Now noticing the absence of the corsage pinned near her handkerchief pocket, you stumbled across the cigarette that was tucked neatly behind her ear. Mouth tip facing forward.

“No, absolutely not” Ellie was confused by your sudden protesting, trying to swat your hand away as you reached for the cigarette, chucking it into the water fountain next to the two of you.

“Hey! That—”

“There will be no smoking on the mansion grounds! You hear me! Ellie, I’m so serious and I’m asking you just this once for a solid 5 hours not to” you pleaded. Normally you wouldn’t care but for an event like this with catty old rich people, you wanted to bypass the extra gossip. Ellie let in a dramatic inhale, looking around at the greenery of the yard the two of you were in.

“Yeah...yeah sure I could do that” Ellie cleared her throat, and her hand was tucked in her pocket — the other at the nape of her neck flicking her hair, she rocked back and forth on her toes.

“Thank you…” your voice was now at a whisper, Ellie’s eyes were beautiful next to the greenery of the garden, and you were almost enamored by how put together she looked. You didn’t expect her to pull through as well as she did, but you were glad she would at least be there to save you from driving yourself crazy in the mansion.

You rubbed your glossed lips together, trying to find the right words to say at the moment. “If we are gonna do this, we have to do it the right way or else we totally jeopardize everything — poof! Princess had to hire a fake date, we don’t want that”

Ellie nodded in agreement. You stepped in closer, reaching into Ellie’s handkerchief pocket as you started to explain the rules, reaching for your own dress to detach the corsage that you pinned there on your way out. Taking the delicate rose and threading it slightly above the pocket on her suit.

The two of your bodies were so close that Ellie could smell your floral and vanilla scent which contrasted with her salted musky wood, making her hitch her throat. The view of your eyes made her slightly antsy at the feeling of your body closer to hers. Instinctively Ellie didn’t know what to do with her hands, panicking as she rested them against the boning of the corset on your waist.

“You can kiss me, though I don’t advise it, hold my hand, walk straight, say excuse me before you end the conversation, no cursing…Stay close to me — it’s very easy to get lost and we don’t want that, no snarky comments, no smoking but you know that, smile” You were speaking fast, Ellie barely catching any of it as she was too busy investing her vision at your hands that were working magic around her suit, slightly doing two buttons for safety.

“Anything else, Princess”

“Did you even catch any of that?” You question, the faint click of the corsage filling the space between the two of you. Ellie gave you a dopey smile, “Honestly, your tiara was crooked the whole time”

It was Ellie’s turn to fix you up, slightly centering the tiara on your head with great delicacy, trailing her hands down your face and to your shoulders with an eyebrow raise. You groaned, ignoring the girl, dragging her hand to follow closely behind you. Ellie found part of it to be like a fairy tale dream. The shit that only happens in movies. From the overly large mansion to the obnoxious shrubbery and freshly kept grass it was hard to believe that your grandmother even lived nearby.

“Don’t speak unless spoken to, and stop slouching you look like a hunchback” You whispered, this time grabbing Ellie’s hand in yours as the two of you walked side by side. Ellie felt a tingle shoot up at her arm at your sudden hand grab, shaking her head slightly to respond to your comment. “Never thought the day would come where you are not only checking my posture…but holding my hand as well, am I going mad?”

You stopped walking to give her an exasperated look, “really? It’s business” The two of you kept walking, making your way to the dining area — almost reaching the corridor when your grandma stops in front of the two of you. She was giving you a stern look before looking over to Ellie. Flicking her eyes back and forth between the two of you. A faint smile as she looked between the two of you.

“You’re just like your father dear” The elder spoke up, putting her ringed finger up to her mouth in awe. “I know”

Elenor cleared her throat. “So who is your friend” Her field of vision shot to Ellie’s hand that was tightly gripped into yours. The two of your shoulders touching — almost scared shitless.

“Uh, Grandma, this is my girlfriend, Ellie Williams, Ellie this is my Grandma, Elenor the Queen of Glendale” You spoke up gesturing the two to each other, Nudging Ellie with your arm queuing for her to speak.

“H-h..It’s a pleasure to meet you” Ellie coughed, “Ma’am” Ellie replicated the bow that she had shown you early, this time getting up quicker. Your hand suddenly felt clammy. Realizing that the moisture was not from your hand but from Ellie’s, who had been drowning in anxiousness next to you. So you squeezed it, giving the girl a soft look of reassurance.

“Oh please, you don’t have to bow Ellie! It’s so wonderful to meet you — aren’t you adorable” Your grandma reached over to squeeze Ellie’s cheeks making them a lot redder than they were before.

You winced at the interaction “Grandma…please” you used your free hand to swat hers away, continuing to look around the room to find an escape out. “We actually are going to go to the garden for a bit, have Philip come to fetch us when the guest arrives”

Giving the woman a faint smile, you drag Ellie away, the redhead trailing behind you like a lost puppy. “Nice meeting you!” Ellie shouted making you shake your head at her outburst.

“And another rule…no yelling” You snapped, walking up to one of the servant trays to steal two glasses of champagne, handing Ellie a glass. The two of you exited through the backyard of the mansion, walking alongside the cobblestone into the garden. It was filled with different kinds of flowers: roses, chrysanthemums, orchids, and hydrangeas. It was a vibrant sight. Enough to make your eyes hurt as the sun was setting.

Sitting next to the fountain, Ellie doing the same but across from you, you closed your eyes amidst the silence, letting the faint sound of the birds chirping guide you – picking up conversation again.

“Welcome to my world” you sang sarcastically, Ellie didn’t bother to heckle you – rather she took this time to see how many differences the two of you had. Ellie was a troublemaker since she was very young…known for picking fights and consistently butting heads with people. The day Joel brought home an anger management class pamphlet Ellie wanted to scream. It’s not that she didn’t think she had issues but she just couldn’t manage her anger properly – mad at the world consistently and it won’t leave her mind like an exposed wound. So Ellie tried one and tried another – realizing she actually needed to communicate what she was feeling if she wanted to be better.

Then Ellie thought of you, certainly too good for her, a pretty girl academically smart and soothing in her eyes. That night at the rooftop didn’t make sense to Ellie, it didn’t make sense to her that a girl like you, could like a girl like her.

“Got a cigarette?”

Ellie snickered “Oh now you want one, I got none for you, I don’t give cigarettes to princesses” Ellie dug into her chest pocket digging inside the fabric to bring out the familiar black lighter and her handy pack of Marlboro reds. Taking out a piece, but your request prior to the ball event made her stop to look at you for approval. “You can have one…go on, smoke it! This is more stressful than I thought”

Ellie shrugged at your response, setting a flame to the burning tobacco, exhaling with ease. You went steady with the champagne, taking a few sips – then larger gulps almost matching the way Ellie was swallowing the cigarette whole.

“Why do you do it?” you questioned. Rotating the liquids in the glass. “Do what?”

“Smoke” your voice was barely a whisper. Ellie blew out the smoke away from your face – as always before tapping some of the ash away, bringing a hand up to scratch her cheek to really think about what she wanted to tell you. Ellie was going to throw in the white towel again.

“Helps me, uh fixate on something other than the emotion I feel, became like a stabilizer – oral fixation typa shit”

Ellie was honest with you, which you could tell from the tone of her voice, it was serious and she was being transparent. “Oh…”

You were preparing to bring the champagne glass up to your lips again when Ellie stopped you, snatching the glass from your hand, tossing the leftover liquid onto the floor, “No more for you…Don’t want our Princess drunk now do we”

You rolled your eyes, “It was keeping my body warm” Ellie gave you a side-eye as she began to unbutton her suit jacket, cursing under her breath as she slid the black jacket off of her arms, raising an eyebrow before throwing it at your face “Ow!”

“You’re welcome” This time you didn’t respond, putting the jacket on while putting your arms through the sleeves. Cold arms feel warmer by the feeling of the fabric around you like a blanket. Similar to yesterday morning when Ellie had left her sweater at your dorm.

“Can we…um” You rubbed your hands together, before locking them together “Can we talk about the night at the rooftop?” Ellie felt her heart sink, putting the cigarette up to her mouth one last time – tapping out the stick to stand up and move closer to where you sat on the brick exterior of the fountain.

“I think I owe that to you..”

You hummed, allowing Ellie to move in close to you, her knee was knocking against your own, as you looked at the girl with such love and admiration despite knowing the hefty conversation that was on the way. Ellie put a hand out to reach for your own, resting her hand in your lap. Webbed through your fingers.

“If I’m being honest…After it happened and my resentment started, I thought about you every night since, I…I think I truly was incapable of being honest with myself and kinda ripping the bandaid off to know that I could be liked. I enjoyed the kiss, do I regret it? Hell fucking no” Ellie began, taking the moment to laugh, “My arguing was a by-product of my flight or fight response absolutely going bonkers at the possibility that Abby could have you or you would reject m–”

“Why would I reject you?”

Ellie blinked rapidly “Sorry…What?”

“I like you! Are you joking, ever since you shook my hand I knew that you were different. But then once the kiss was over, you basically didn’t want anything to do with me, I thought, I made you up in my head” You stroked Ellie’s hand in your lap for comfort, this time Ellie letting go to squeeze your thigh. “The way I imagined you to act was just a result of what I made you to be in my head” You ramble making Ellie nod her head almost ashamed at the way she treated you months prior after the situation dissolved.

“God I was such an asshole” Ellie winced looking away from you, applying faint pressure to your thigh

“If you were one then so was I…”

“Did you mean to say ‘I like you’ in the present tense?” Ellie blurted out, eyeing your facial expressions to see if she caught what you were saying right – or if it was a mistake on your part.

“I did say that didn’t I…” You mumbled, bringing a hand up to your mouth as if you were scrambling to organize your thoughts to prevent yourself from saying anything embarrassing or exposing yourself even further. Ellie’s gaze softened,

“It’s okay if you did” Ellie whispered, lifting a hand to rub at your cheek. The two of you look at each other longingly. You didn’t say anything further – feeling your body lean into Ellie’s until her lips were directly onto yours, closing all gaps between the two of you. Her peppermint moisturized lips locked with your own, feeling Ellie’s hands shoot up to your face for extra support. The kiss was long, the two of you not being to detach from each other, the kiss was a hungry one. Ellie’s tongue grazed yours as the kiss got deeper…and deeper. A splash of the water from the fountain made the two of you abruptly pull away, shaky breathes as the two of you stared at each other for a prolonged period of time, there was no more hatred left in Ellie’s eyes and you knew she didn’t feel the instant regret like she felt the night of the roof-top.

“You gonna tell me to not tell anyone” you whisper to Ellie, giving a slight nudge at what happened the last time the two of you shared a kiss

“I’ve learned my lesson…I’m not hiding you” Ellie spoke softly, bringing a hand up to stroke your cheek. The soft moment between the two of you is ruined by the clear of the throat, to reveal Philip in all black standing in front of the two of you. The two of you jumped away from each other as you looked at the ground embarrassed.

“Now that the two of you have stopped macking, the Queen has requested your return there are some people she would like you to meet” Philip states bluntly, turning on his heel to walk away from the two of you. Ellie and yourself give each other a glance before letting out a fit of laughs at the awkwardness of the situation. Ellie stands up, putting a hand out for you to grab allowing her hand to help you stand up.

With Your hand around Ellie’s everything suddenly felt like it was moving into place, no more need to stress or panic – it felt natural. As the two of you walked through the garden you thought about your dad's letter in admiration, you wanted the best of both worlds and you sure as hell got it.

“Hey, Ellie?” you whispered as Ellie only hummed in response.

“Wanna leave early after this and grab some food?”

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the-kr8tor · 4 months ago

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Idk why I hadn't thought of this before but uh, this my 2nd request:3

Bitter Orange for Hobie with💧who thinks he escaped alive with R (from wherever it's up to you but i can suggest like after getting some supplys or being stuck somewhere for a while because it was infested with zombies) and got back to their base safely but little did he know, they didn't tell him that they got bit ;3

I'd like to add to the request I just made (Bitter Orange Hobie w 💧) and uh, this can be optional ig? but can they be best friends who've been pinning over each other but now Hobie never got a chance to confess his feelings n stuff and maybe they do it in those last moments?

Thank you for requesting this heart wrenching fic lmaoo hope u like it!! ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader

Word count: 1k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, Zombie apocalypse AU, Zombie AU, CW blood, CW injury, TW death. Angst.

Katy's one year celebration 🎉

Hobie comes back to you after three days, he's drenched in sweat and grime. But it's all worth it for the two bags full of supplies that you two need. They're at least a month worth of survival, a month without needing to go out and put yourselves in danger. He could've brought you with him if not for your raging fever and cough, he had to go alone. A part of him was glad that he went alone, he was stuck in a warehouse for an entire day while waiting for the hoard to pass by. You would've hated waiting in the dark and damp place especially with your sickness.

You said you were fine to be left behind, that it was just a simple cold that you can fight with the leftover meds. But when he opens the unlocked door that he specifically told you to barricade, the rotting smell of flesh and decay greets him instead of your smile. It tells him that shouldn't have left. It tells him that his greatest fear has come true.

The bags he painstakingly heaved from the city to the cabin in the woods where you two had been surviving in for months now drops like a death knell on the dilapidated floors. It was home for you and Hobie, he still remembers the day you found it. His heart hammered in his chest when he turned around only to find you gone. And then your scream turned him into the fastest man alive, only to find you jumping for joy in front of the old hunter’s cabin.

He knows exactly why he was so afraid that day, even though it was just a second of you not by his side— he has never been without you. Through the years, way before the world ended, you've been by his side. Always latching on to him, always smiling at him. Or was it the other way around? Was it him latching onto you like paint on a wall? Or was it him who always smiled at you? Nevertheless, he loves you, he loves you even when the world ended. He loves you enough to drag himself across town to come get you while the world around him was burning and crumbling.

But he shouldn't have left, he shouldn't have stayed a day more to find you that bottle of shampoo you have always been on the lookout for. It was a surprise, a happy one this time, none of the walking dead jumping at you from a corner. He would do anything to see you smile again, just like when you found the cabin. You've been trying hard to stay positive for him, but he knows, and you knew that it was all to reassure him. He takes care of you and you take care of him, he wouldn't like it any other way.

Grief already clings to him like a vine snaking along a tree. It grips him tighter with every step he takes. Hobie's hand shakes as he reaches towards your shared bedroom door. He hoped that the smell would be gone by then, but it only persisted as he got closer and closer to the last place he saw you.

He should've told you he loves you.

Your milky white eyes are the first things he sees. He grips the door for balance, chest heaving, heart plummeting to his stomach.

You growl at him, skin no longer bearing life, skin shrunken around your nail beds, claws reaching towards him in a rush.

Hobie freezes and awaits your teeth tearing into his flesh, he'd join you, would that be so bad?

Yet, death doesn't come for him. Chains rattle behind you as you growl and desperately try to tear him apart. Hobie, now realizing what you've done to yourself, cries at the sight of your ankles bound on the bed. Your deathbed. You died alone and sick, you died without him by your side, you died crying for him. But it still crossed in your hazy mind to tie yourself down so when he comes home he doesn't face the same fate you had.

His sobs echo among your inhuman groans, tears streaming down his cheeks as you relentlessly try to grab him even in your bound state. Hobie refuses to look at you any longer, refusing to remember you like this. His eyes flick down at your feet. There's medicine scattered along the floor and bedside table. And there's still water left in your glass. A bloody bandage is still tightly wrapped around your thigh. A testament that you fought to stay human until he gets home, that you tried to cure yourself even though you knew it would be futile.

“Why didn't you tell me?” He asks in a broken voice, a voice he doesn't recognize as his own. “I could've stayed for you.” He knows that you didn't stop him because you didn't want him to see you slowly ebb away into a husk. That your death will break him apart right in front of you while he refuses to let you go. That his sorrowful face would be the last thing you ever saw. “I could've been here for you.”

You spared the both of you pain and suffering.

Hobie doesn't know what to do now, you're dead and gone. And there's no one left.

“I should've—” he inhales, slipping down from the wall to the floor. “I love you. I hope you knew that.”

You continue to slash at the air, chains rattling, bed frame pulling you away from him. Hobie sees a resemblance of you behind your foggy eyes, he can't help but think if you're still in there, that you're still fighting inside. He thinks you knew he loved you, he thinks that you might've felt the same after all those years with him. But that's all from his mind, all he wants now is to hear your voice again.

He just stays there on the floor, grief sinking him further down, eating him alive with every guttural growl you yell.

He shouldn't have left.

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pup-pee · 7 months ago

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NOMS NSOMSNOMS NOMS STARES @ U BC MROE?!?!? MORE?! GUY MAGICAL GIRL ALONG SIDE KYLE ALONG SIDE ALL THE REST IM SO WEEEEEEEEEEE MUNCH MCUNH MCUNH MUIHCBN

@pup-pee I know you have notifications on now but like hands you Magical girl Kyle!!!! He's done!! :D!!!

(Transparent version under the cut because I like using that feature!!)

#KKKKKYLEEEE KYLEE MAGICAL GIRL KYLE YYYIIIPEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA EATS HIM CHOMPS ACTALLYY #I LVOE THE TEXTUREEEEEEEE SMMMMM & UR SHADING/HIGHLIGHTS SMMMMMMMAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #ALSO I DO HAVE NOTIFS BUT THEY ONLY TELL ME WHEN U REBLOG THIGNS?????????? SO LIEK TY 4 TELLING ME U WERE ON TUMBLR IN DISC :DDDDDDDD #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA THE CUTIEEEEEE I LOVE MEOWMEOW #MAGICAL GIRL KYLE JUST MAKES ME SO HAPPY ITS SO GOOD & THE DRESS IS SO AMAZING I JSUT LVOE IT SMMMMMMMMM #LOOK HOW DETAILED IT ISSSS I LVOE STARING @ ALL THE DETAILSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#ALSO LIEK THE THE FUCK IDK DESIGN NAMES BUT THE SWOOPY BITS R SOOO SATISFYING 2 LOOK @ LIKE EATS THOSE #ALSO THE COLALR THE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ITS SO GOOD EVERYTHING WORKS 2GETHER SO WALELLLLLLL AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #LIKE I LOVE HOW GETS 2 KEEP SM OF THE ORGINAL DESIGN AS WELL LIKE HIS PENGUIN SUIT ITS SO GOOD ITS SO CUTEEEEEEEEEE #I LVOE THIS GUY IM GONNA THROW UP #ALSO HIS FLUFFY FLUFFY HAIR W/THE BOW JSUT MWAH JUST I LOVE IT!!!!#kyle rayner #MADI ART!!!!! WEEEEEEE #ALSO NO MATTER WHAT U MAKE W/HIM I WILL BUY IT ALLCHARMS OR STICKERS ISTG I SWEAR 2 U #U PUTTING FORMAL TAGS B4 OTHER TAGS IS SO SMART BTW #PUTTING THIS ON MY HOMESCREEN WIDEGET THINGS ISDKDSHJAKJHGFUAIKWGFKA AAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#ALSO IDK IF THE KYLE COMMUNITY IS DEAD BC NGL I DONT GO ON IT 2 MUHC BUT KJSAHFKJASHKFSAJ #ALSO I HOPE U PUT UR LAPTOP AWAY IM JSUT EATING THIS AWAY IM AJKHFKUJWLAKIULLYHGLLLUIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #HE WILL BONK & POKE @ PPL W/HIS SILLY STUPID PENCIEL HIS GIANT PENCIEL #& WHEN EVER1 MAKES FUN OF HIM HE WIL MAKE FUN OF THEM BC @ LEAST HE HAS A GF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AHA POINTS #THEN HE GOES & CRIES 2 HER BC IDK SAKJHKJGGUIF W IM SO GLAD ALEX IS ALIVE OK LISTNEEEEEEEEEEE #ANWYAYS I LOVE SMMMMMMMM I LOVE THE STARS SMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!! EATS THIS I LVOEHOW U DREW THE ARM/LEG THINGS LIEK YESSSSSS #ALSO THE POINTY FEET R SO CUTE TEEHHEEEE #AAAAAA JUST JUST EATS THIS!!!!!!!!!!! TY 4 KEEPING ME FED ON KYLE CONTENTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#:3

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kittenofdoomage · 1 year ago

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