#they LOVE drama but leans more trying to gossip about it than stir it

[a-tale-of-legends]

I need to think about the Alola - Galar quartet more cause they can be hilarious.

All four are powerful in their own right but.... they're also still teenagers that get into dumb arguments. All of which started because Ray innocently ( "innocently") asked a question that eventually sparked a full blown heated argument between Amsonia and Carol. Carol seems to be egging Ames on but it's very clear that they're getting frustrated and more into the argument with each second- they even got a white board. Amsonia is angrily signing/typing text to speech/ verbally yelling her points on her end, agitated and close to kicking knee caps. Poor Naomi is trying her best to make sure her friends don't kill each other. Ray, who has been quiet throughout the entire argument, speaks up once, only to make Carol and Ames flip out and thus, their debate continues. Wild gestures and cursing galor. Ray simply continues to eat his malasada , watching the chaos. Naomi is just glaring at him.

[fushitoru]

chapter 4: the game a bridgerton!au

pairing ⸺ duke!satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary⸺ dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, duke gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?

warnings ⸺ nsfw, enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, SUGGESTIVE, eventual smut, jealousy, misogyny, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly

chapter summary: satoru has some revelations about you. both you and satoru share some quite...happening days at the manor, including an eventful game of pall mall. (4.9k)

a/n WARNING this chapter is suggestive. like always minors dni. not edited at all bc im sick of this chapter lol (like always i fear). see u at the bottom ;)

prev. the manor | next. the fall

general masterlist | series masterlist

Dearest reader, 

It has come to the attention of This Author that Miss Itadori, the undeniable diamond of the season, has made her appearance at Gojo Manor a full week ahead of the rest of the ton. Such early arrival can only provoke speculation: might the tender buds of affection be blossoming in the Kentish countryside? Shall we soon witness Miss Itadori departing with more than just fond memories, perhaps even a ring upon her finger? These are the very questions now fluttering through the minds of young ladies and their ever-watchful mamas, who may find their carefully laid plans to ensnare Lord Gojo dashed before the house party has even begun.

⸻ LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS

Gojo leaned back in his chair, fingers absentmindedly drumming on the armrest as he watched you fumble with the library door. The soft fabric of your nightgown slipped off your shoulder, a glimpse of bare skin catching in the dim light⸺something not lost to Gojo’s eyes as he watched your figure disappear angrily. Your face was flushed, eyes wide and uncertain. Despite the flurry of emotions playing across your features, what struck him most was the way your hands trembled as you fought to maintain composure.

His lips pressed into a thin line as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. You had come here⸺of all places⸺into his sanctuary, and for what? A part of him couldn’t reconcile the image of you sneaking into the library in the dead of night with the proper, composed lady you portrayed during the day. The whole encounter felt surreal, leaving a knot of confusion coiled tightly in his chest.

His gaze lingered on the empty doorway after you vanished, a strange hollowness settling in his chest. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to shake off the feeling, but it clung to him like the shadows of the room. His fingers tightened around the armrest, knuckles whitening as if he could grasp onto something concrete⸺something that made sense. But all he was left with was the lingering echo of your footsteps in the hallway and the ghost of your flushed face in his mind.

He rubbed a hand over his face, exhaling slowly. His mind kept returning to the way your nightgown had slipped from your shoulder as you fumbled with the door. The pale fabric had slid down so effortlessly, exposing the curve of your bare skin. It wasn’t scandalous, not really⸺not enough to warrant the way his thoughts kept circling back to it. And yet, he couldn’t shake the image, the unexpected flash of vulnerability. The sight of it stirred something in him, a quiet confusion that unsettled his usual composure.

What was it that made him notice? Gojo’s brow furrowed as he considered it, his fingers absently drumming on the armrest of his chair. He had witnessed plenty of women in far less modest circumstances (most of them courtesy of his friends, who forced him to go to ridiculous events), and yet, this felt different. There was something about the way you had tried to maintain your dignity, the way you had fought to compose yourself even as your face flushed and your nightgown betrayed you. It was... distracting.

The memory of your fearful expression gnawed at him. He had expected haughty arrogance or calculated charm, not genuine fear. You weren’t like the people who usually surrounded him, playing their part in society's grand performance, all vying for his attention. There was an intelligence in your eyes, a spark that made him feel something unsettlingly close to admiration.

He couldn’t make sense of it. Why did it matter that you were different? Why did he find himself enjoying your company, despite the fact that you seemed entirely uninterested in his? He drummed his fingers against the armrest, contemplating the possibility of pursuing you for the rest of the season⸺though he quickly dismissed the thought. You were uncooperative, difficult. A chase after you would be nothing short of exhausting. 

And yet...

His attention shifted back to the desk, to the scattered papers you had left behind. Gojo reached for them, his fingers brushing lightly against the edge of the parchment as though handling something fragile. The numbers and diagrams were a mess of scribbled notes, and yet, they held a strange familiarity. His brow furrowed as he traced the lines with his eyes, piecing together the fragmented calculations. Then, like a puzzle falling into place, it clicked.

Venus. Of all things, you had been calculating the size of Venus.

Gojo’s hand froze midair, hovering over the papers. He blinked, his breath catching in his throat. He had assumed⸺no, expected⸺you to be reading some frivolous romance, a book about love and passion, something fitting for a young lady sneaking into a library. But instead, you were working on complex celestial calculations.

He had pegged you for a typical young lady of the ton⸺someone more interested in the latest gossip or the affections of suitors than in the stars. It annoyed him, more than he cared to admit, that he had been wrong.

Gojo set the paper down, his hand resting on the edge of the desk as he leaned back in his chair. The flicker of irritation that sparked in his chest was unfamiliar, unsettling even. It wasn’t just that you had surprised him⸺plenty of people had done that before. No, it was the fact that he had misjudged you so completely. He prided himself on being perceptive, on seeing through people’s masks with ease. Yet here you were, slipping past his assumptions with nothing more than a few scribbled notes and a fleeting presence.

His gaze dropped to the floor, and for the first time in a long while, he felt uncertain. Gojo wasn’t used to feeling this way⸺unsettled, annoyed, and a little too curious for his own good. He tapped the papers lightly, lost in thought. What did it mean that you had gotten under his skin like this? That he found himself wanting to unravel the mystery of you, to see what lay beneath the surface of your carefully constructed facade?

A sigh escaped his lips, low and quiet. His hand finally left the papers, and he leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling as if it held answers he couldn’t quite grasp. The world around him was filled with people who either fawned over his charms or remained blissfully unaware of his true nature. But you? You saw right through him. You challenged him, unsettled him, made him question things he had never thought to question before.

With a final glance at the empty doorway, Satoru leaned forward again, ready to dive back into his work. But this time, his thoughts weren’t solely on his family’s ledgers. They were on you⸺and the undeniable pull that had started to form between you.

And inevitably, because Satoru is distracted, he lets the lull of sleep sneak up on him, swathing him in its deep, heavy blanket.

No, Satoru hears himself think. You’re not supposed to be here.

You’re sitting on his bed, somehow made it up to his chambers. A part of Satoru comprehends⸺in all his sleep-deprived glory⸺that he is definitely dreaming, but there’s an overwhelmingly stubborn part of him that dominates his entire consciousness, refusing to accept the fact. 

You’re leaning on your elbow, resting on your side on the foot of his bed. Part of him wants to believe that you are really here, sheer nightgown that seems to get shorter and shorter⸺slipping up your thighs⸺every time his consciousness paints an image of you. The sheer material drapes over your figure, accentuating the gentle curve of your waist and the fullness of your hips, painting a picture that torments him.

“My lord,” you whisper. 

It’s just his title, but your voice carries a sweetness it never holds in reality, dripping with an unfamiliar softness that makes Satoru’s heart lurch. Panic takes root, and he scrambles back, trying to distance himself from the fantasy in front of him. His back slams against the headboard as he fights to resist⸺not just you, but the part of himself that aches to abandon all notions of honor. That part of him that craves to do things to you that are anything but honorable.

Then, he notices your smile. It’s not the polite, practiced smile you show at balls or to suitors vying for your attention. This one is sincere, warm⸺a smile that speaks of affection, the kind you’ve never shown him before.

Like you are in love. 

And you are not helping Satoru in his restraint because you position yourself, crawling like a predator, straddling his lap. Satoru is suddenly breathing too fast, his chest tightening with the weight of desire and disbelief.

Your lips are at his ear. Your lips are so soft. “Touch me,” you say, trailing your lips down feather light across his jaw. 

Right now, you are in love. With him. You are his, and Satoru desperately does not want to fight it. 

He does not want to. 

Your hands start trailing down his torso, and now he registers that he is simply wearing a linen shirt and underwear because you are tracing the edge of his underwear, touching his inner thighs, getting so, so impossibly close to⸺

“No,” he rasps, squeezing his eyes shut. “I am a man of honor.”

But that’s a lie. One that Satoru clings to, because admitting the truth would shatter everything he’s built. His identity, his values⸺they all rest on the lie he’s desperately trying to hold onto.

What he really wants is nothing between you and him.

He wants that flimsy nightgown gone, the one that barely covers your thighs and what lies between them. He wants to keep the candlelight burning so he can see every inch of you, learn every detail of your body. He wants to slip off your chemise and explore the softness of your skin, trace the swell of your breasts, the dip of your hips, and taste the sweetness of your lips.

Satoru can’t focus on anything except the fact you are utterly, scandalously close to him, sitting on his lap and staring at him as if you love him. 

And his treacherous heart wants to abandon duty, honor, the dukedom, the royal family⸺everything⸺and simply take you. To feel the weight of you pressed against him, wrapped around him.

But just as his hands move to cup your face, you start giggling. “No, you are not.”

Satoru blinks, confused.

You laugh again, light and teasing. “You are no man of honor.”

And suddenly, your laughter echoes in his mind, filling the room with its taunting melody. It etches itself into his thoughts, leaving an indelible mark.

“You are a coward.”

You entered the drawing room to break your fast, Choso by your side, and immediately locked eyes with Gojo, who was already seated at the table with his mother. He quickly looked away, focusing on the toast he was slathering with an ungodly amount of jam.

As you moved to sit at the table with Choso, you couldn't help but study him. Gojo appeared more disheveled than usual, perhaps a bit fatigued, though any sign of vulnerability quickly vanished when your mother spoke.

“Lord Gojo, it is a fine morning, is it not?” she inquired with her usual warmth.

Gojo smiled, leaning back in his chair with his characteristic nonchalance. “Indeed, Lady Itadori, especially as I am blessed with such lovely company as yourself and your daughter.” His eyes flickered toward you, an arrogant glint in them before they shifted back to your mother.

You and Choso exchanged exasperated glances. 

Your mother chuckled, clearly charmed. “Oh, my lord, you flatter me. Tell me, what do you favor for breakfast? I am always curious to hear of others' preferences.”

“Clearly, it is toast drowned in enough jam to satisfy an army,” you muttered under your breath, delicately spreading butter onto your own toast.

Gojo’s eyes flashed, and he couldn’t resist a retort. “At least I do not indulge in something as dull as butter.”

You stiffened. “Butter is far superior to such overwhelming sweetness. Jam annihilates the taste of the toast itself, rendering it pointless.”

“And butter,” he shot back, “adds nothing but blandness. It is unremarkable, simple, and tasteless.”

A surge of heat rose to your face, ready to deliver another sharp remark, but before you could respond, Duchess Gojo’s lilting laughter filled the room. “Oh, my dears, what a lively couple you make!” Her tone was teasing, her eyes alight with amusement. “Such spirited conversation at breakfast⸺how delightful!”

Both you and Gojo stiffened, your faces flushing, though whether it was from irritation or something else entirely, you couldn’t say. You hastily turned your attention back to your toast, while Gojo busied himself with his tea.

Duchess Gojo clapped her hands together lightly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Since we are all in such a lively mood this morning, I do believe a game of pall-mall is in order once breakfast is through. The garden is in full bloom, and the weather is perfect for it.”

Your mother smiled graciously. “A wonderful idea, Duchess. It has been some time since we last enjoyed a game.”

“Indeed,” the Duchess agreed. “And I daresay a little friendly competition will do us all good. What do you say, Lord Gojo?” She turned to her son with a knowing look. “I trust you are up for the challenge?”

Gojo leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. “I never shy away from a challenge, Mother. But do be warned, I have no intention of losing.”

“Confidence is a virtue,” you remarked dryly, reaching for your teacup, “but do not let it cloud your judgment. Pall-mall requires more than mere bravado.”

Gojo raised an eyebrow, his smile widening. “Ah, a challenge from you as well. This shall be an interesting morning indeed.”

“Let us hope your skills in the garden match your flair for words, my lord,” you retorted, your tone light (for the sake of preventing your mother a heart attack) but your gaze to Gojo sharp. 

Duchess Gojo’s laughter rang out once more, her eyes gleaming with delight. “Oh, this will be most entertaining! Come now, let us finish our breakfast, and then we shall see who emerges victorious on the field.”

You took a sip of your tea, pointedly ignoring the way Gojo’s gaze lingered on you as you did so. The day had barely begun, and already, you felt the familiar tension of being in his presence. But if there was one thing you knew, it was that you wouldn’t back down from a challenge⸺whether at the breakfast table or in the garden.

Duchess Gojo clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Now, we must let our diamond choose first. After all, she is the only lady participating today.”

You smiled warmly at her, a polite nod of appreciation. Gojo, however, frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly as he glanced between you and the bag of mallets. “Are we not simply setting her up for victory?”

Turning to him with an innocent smile, you crossed your arms. “What’s that, my lord? Are you unable, as a man, to deal with the loss of your chosen mallet? I know some men depend heavily on certain familiars to win.”

Gojo held your gaze for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a dismissive shrug, he looked away. “Choose whatever you want. I will be sure to defeat you regardless.”

Duchess Gojo placed a warm hand on your back, encouraging you forward. “That’s the spirit, my son. Now, Miss Itadori, do choose which one you fancy.”

You approached the bag of mallets, your eyes scanning over the selection. They varied in subtle shapes and sizes, each one seemingly tailored for a different style of play. Your gaze settled on a mallet slightly larger than the others, painted a light blue shade. Its weight and shape seemed particularly advantageous for aim and control—perfect for directing the ball with precision.

As you picked it up, Gojo’s expression darkened, a hint of irritation flickering in his eyes. “Of course, she chooses the best one,” he muttered under his breath.

“Well,” Duchess Gojo crossed her arms. “I suppose it’s only fair that you all let the lady go first.” She turned to you, nodding. “I will go join your mother for tea inside, my dear.” Winking, she adds, “Show these boys how real ladies do it.”

As the duchess took her leave, Choso, always the supportive brother, leaned over to you with a small smile. “Excellent choice, sister. Show them how it’s done.”

You gave him a grateful nod and positioned yourself for your turn. With a graceful swing, you sent the ball rolling smoothly across the lawn. Choso clapped in approval, but when you looked up, Gojo and Yuji were both glowering at you from the sidelines.

Gojo’s lips curled into a smirk, clearly not amused by your success. “Beginner’s luck,” he commented dryly. Yuji could only nod in mindless agreement to Gojo, and you graced him with a glower. Traitor.

Now it was Gojo’s turn. He stepped forward with confident ease, positioning himself with the mallet as though he had been doing this his entire life. With a swift, practiced swing, his ball shot forward and struck a target dead center. Yuji’s eyes sparkled with admiration, practically beaming at Gojo’s skill.

Choso and you exchanged petulant glances, unimpressed by Gojo’s display. But Yuji’s excitement only grew, and he couldn’t resist praising his mentor. “Incredible, my lord! You never miss!”

Choso’s turn came next. With a focused look, he lined up his shot and knocked Gojo’s ball right out of position, sending it tumbling off course into a forested area. Gojo let out a forced laugh, masking his irritation as best as he could, and you clapped and let out a small, petty giggle. “Good shot, brother! I fear Lord Gojo will have to travel much distance to retrieve and get it on course.”

You would come to bite your words.

When it was Yuji’s turn, he aimed with all his might and sent your ball flying out of position. You gasped in outrage, turning to him with narrowed eyes. “Oh, you will pay for this.”. 

Gojo, on the other hand, gave Yuji a hearty pat on the back, beaming with pride. “Well done, Yuji. Well done.”

It was now your turn, and you stomped your way towards the forested area where you and Gojo’s balls had traveled towards. Soon enough, Gojo was following after you.

The path was shaded by trees, and the coolness of the forest was a welcome relief from the heat of the sun. You could help but give each other glares until you finally broke the silence.

 “How dare you bewitch my brother into turning against me?” you accused him, stepping over a stray root.

Gojo rolled his eyes, a playful smirk on his lips. “It appears that Yuji’s blood is indeed not thicker than water,” 

 “Or maybe⸺just maybe⸺your charm isn’t as infallible as you think.”

Keeping pace beside you, Gojo scoffed. “And yet, here you are, still engaged in conversation with me. I must be doing something right.”

You shoot him an angry sideways glance. “I’m only here because my ball is, unfortunately, in the same direction as yours. Nothing more.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Ah, so it’s mere coincidence that fate keeps pulling us together.”

“More like unfortunate circumstance.”

The two of you continued bickering as you searched for your wayward balls. The back-and-forth banter echoed through the forest, neither of you willing to back down.

Finally, you spotted them⸺your ball and Gojo’s⸺resting precariously on top of a narrow stream of water. You both halted, glancing at each other, and then, without a word, you raced forward.

Gojo reached the water’s edge first, but you weren’t far behind. Neither of you hesitated as you waded into the shallow stream, your focus entirely on retrieving your respective balls. The bottoms of your clothes became soaked in the cool water, but neither of you paid it any mind, too busy grappling to reach your goals first.

Just as you managed to scoop up your ball, your dress snagged on something in the water. You stumbled forward, colliding directly into Gojo, who had just retrieved his own. The sudden impact sent both of you toppling into the water.

You landed squarely on top of him, the shock of the fall leaving you momentarily dazed. Gojo blinked up at you, his breath catching as his gaze dropped to your now-dampened bodice, honing in on your bosom. For a moment, his usually sharp and calculating eyes softened, confusion flickering across his face as if he didn’t quite understand the effect you were having on him.

You scrambled to find your words, unsure of what to say. “I didn’t mean to⸺”

Before you could finish, Gojo gently grasped your shoulders and helped you off of him. He stood up first, his expression uncharacteristically serious as he brushed off his wet clothing and offered you a hand. You took it, steadying yourself as you rose to your feet.

Gojo swallowed hard, clearly at a loss for words. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then quickly closed it, shaking his head. “I must go,” he muttered,.

Without another word, he turned and left, leaving you standing there in the stream, confused and flustered as you watched him disappear into the trees.

“I am not impressed.” Nobara impassively stares you down with a glower.

You fluttered your fan, maintaining a delicate air of mock innocence. “Whatever do you mean, my dear friend?”

The two of you sat at a small table on the terrace, its stone surface warm from the midday sun. Before you, the expansive field served as Gojo’s personal training ground, scattered with targets and archery equipment. Gojo and his protégé, Yuji, had clearly been at it for hours, their bare skin glistening with sweat under the relentless sun. They moved with a practiced ease, their focus entirely on the task at hand.

Gojo was currently demonstrating a particular stance to Yuji, his voice carrying faintly over the terrace as he corrected the younger man’s posture and grip. Yuji, ever the diligent student, watched him with an intensity that bordered on awe. You couldn’t help but reflect that his expression now⸺determined and assured⸺contrasted much with his encounter with you at the game. 

Nobara’s eyes narrowed as she regarded the scene. “Why are we here?” she asked flatly, her gaze lingering on the two men.

You turned to her with a smile, fluttering your fan with exaggerated elegance. “Why, to record in my journal, of course. One must capture the beauty of Mother Nature when it presents itself so generously from this terrace.”

Her expression remained unimpressed. “Is it truly Mother Nature that has captivated you, or Lord Gojo’s bare skin?” She glanced down at your unopened journal, its quill resting untouched beside it. “And how much progress have you made in this recording of yours?”

You couldn’t suppress a laugh, caught in your own half-hearted excuse. “Well, even you cannot deny that he presents a rather fine figure, can you? And I will get to my writing in due time. Inspiration must first strike, after all.”

Nobara sighed, folding her arms across her chest. “I cannot fathom how you find pleasure in looking upon a man who has caused you so much distress. Many times, in fact.”

You glanced back toward the field, watching as Gojo effortlessly pulled back his bowstring, the muscles in his back rippling with the movement. His form was impeccable, each action a demonstration of his skill and strength. Yuji, in contrast, struggled to replicate the motion with as much ease and accuracy, though his determination was evident.

"He’s clearly enjoying himself," you commented dryly, turning your attention back to Nobara. "Torturing me, that is. I might as well make due of my harrowing and demeaning stay here and enjoy some aspects of Gojo. I swear, he delights in the fact that I’m stuck here."

Nobara’s eyes narrowed, and she snorted. "Oh, absolutely. Men like him don’t get much amusement in life unless it involves making someone else miserable."

You shook your head, remembering the library encounter all too vividly. Gojo had seemed genuinely surprised to find you there, and yet he had taken to taunting you with his usual smugness. That infernal smirk of his had been etched into your memory.

"I almost wonder," you mused, "if he was actually shocked to find me in the library. Perhaps I caught him off guard for once."

Nobara raised an eyebrow. "What were you doing? Looking for a book on how to survive insufferable dukes?"

You chuckled softly. "No, I was reading about Venus, actually. But Gojo⸺he assumed I was indulging in some silly romance. Imagine his surprise when he realized I was working on calculations instead."

Nobara’s lips twitched upward in amusement, but before she could respond, a loud thud! echoed across the terrace. Both of you looked down just in time to see Gojo's arrow hit the target dead center.

You rolled your eyes. Of course, he would show off. That insufferable man never missed an opportunity to flaunt his skills. Yuji, predictably, looked like he was about to faint from admiration.

Gojo notched another arrow, his back muscles rippling as he drew it back with practiced ease. His abs tightened with the effort, and though you told yourself you were merely observing his technique, your gaze lingered a moment longer than necessary. The tautness of his form was, undeniably, impressive.

“It is a shame,” Nobara remarked, her voice breaking through your thoughts. “He does present a rather fine figure. If only his character matched his appearance.”

You blinked, realizing that your gaze had lingered on him for far too long. “What?”

Nobara glanced at you, her expression half-amused, half-pitying. “I merely observe that if his manners were as well-formed as his physique, he might be a most agreeable companion.”

You opened your fan again, waving it lightly in front of your face. “Perhaps. But we both know that appearances can be deceiving.”

Nobara’s expression turned serious as she looked at you. “You must find yourself a husband who is both well-formed and well-mannered, my dear. Else I shall be forced to gouge out my eyes every time I am called to attend on you.”

You sighed dramatically, closing your fan with a soft snap. “Whatever you say, Nobara.”

Yet, even as you dismissed her words, your gaze drifted back to the field. Gojo was a puzzle, indeed. And whether you liked it or not, he had captured more of your attention than you were willing to admit.

Satoru is sweaty and hot, and therefore he must rush back to take a cold bath. 

The weather is quite warm, he must admit to himself. Teaching Yuji had been nothing sort of pleasurable; the boy’s physical prowess was quite impressive, and he learned things very, very fast. If Yuji were to keep learning and working on his skill, he would easily be up to Gojo’s level or even surpass him. 

As he climbs up the stairs to the terrace, he wipes his brow, which has budded with sweat. When he crosses a table that overlooks the field, he notices a book. His mother and him wouldn’t expose any books like this⸺a fine and intricate design covering the top⸺to the harsh, humid weather, so he picks up the book, frowning.

Frowning, he picked it up, curiosity getting the better of him. The book felt unfamiliar in his hands, and as he opened it, the words within seemed to swim before his eyes. Annoyed, he rubbed the sweat from his forehead and squinted, finally making out the fine, neat handwriting on the page.

I confess, there is something intoxicating about the notion that women might be more than what society has so neatly confined us to be. Is it truly so outlandish to consider that we, too, possess minds capable of great thought and spirits yearning for freedom?

Satoru's eyes widened, and a flicker of intrigue sparked within him. He flipped to the next page, where the writing grew messier, more hurried.

Indeed, God truly blesses the wrong soldiers with features such as his. However, I take pride in being one of His strongest for I possess the fortitude to resist the temptation of ending Gojo’s miserable existence myself.

His eyes widened. If he had been intrigued before, now he was thoroughly captivated. This had to be you. His heart began to beat faster as he quickly turned to another page, where the ink was still fresh, and a pressed leaf lay nestled between the pages.

If I were to base my choice of husband solely on physical appearance, I must confess that Lord Gojo would be a most compelling candidate. However, to consider him without regard to his character would be a grave disservice to myself and to dear Nobara, who would bear the consequences of such a choice daily.

I hold out hope for a suitor with a similar strength of physique, one whose form displays power and grace, much like Gojo. His muscles, so clearly defined, speak of formidable strength and control—his back rippling with every pull of the bowstring, his breath labored as he steadies himself.

Alas, such attributes, though appealing, are not enough…

His fingers hovered over the delicate page, the words sinking in. A part of him wanted to laugh at your sharpness, your refusal to fall prey to his charms, but another part⸺one that kept resurfacing and resurfacing against his will, showing up even in his slumber⸺felt something else entirely.

…What a pity, indeed.

prev. the manor | next. the fall

general masterlist | series masterlist

a/n i feel like the only important plot point in this chapter is that gojo is a boobs guy

sorry if this chapter was a little icky :( i prefered publishing this than having to subject my dear beta reader to having to edit this mess or even me having to think about it further. i will rest so that the next chapter is better <3 (lots of fluffy moments to come in the next one)

gojo when you spawned in his bedroom

will finally treat myself to answering asks after I wake up since i'm done with this dreadfull chapter <333 jesus it's 3am

comment, reblog, and send in an ask to let me know ur thots :3 memes are also appreciated <3

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[cece693]

Touch Starved (Edward Cullen x M! Vamp Reader)

Summary: You were touch starved and didn't mind it. However, not everybody was fine with it. Your mate found it frustrating, especially when this distance caused rumors to swirl.

tags: reader doesn't care about touch, Edward does, rumors, students creating drama, needy Edward

Touch had never been a necessity for you. Even before you were turned, physical closeness felt redundant. You didn’t need to be held or touched to know you were cared for. Love, to you, was a state of being, a quiet understanding, not something proven through gestures or physical contact. The presence of someone you loved—just standing with them in comfortable silence—was enough.

When you became a vampire, this aspect of you didn’t just remain—it intensified. Your heightened senses transformed every little detail into something overwhelming. The smell of a distant forest, the vibrations of life beneath the ground, the heartbeat of a creature miles away, all became vivid. But touch? Touch became unnecessary, intrusive even. Feeling every texture, every pore, every slight imperfection was a reminder of how alien you’d become. Instead of comfort, it brought only awareness of your distance from the human experience.

For a long time, it didn’t matter. When you joined the Cullen family, they learned quickly that casual touch wasn’t your thing. You preferred your own space, your hands often resting quietly in your pockets or folded loosely in front of you. They respected that. Alice, of course, was the exception. Her constant, affectionate touches were something you tolerated, knowing it was how she expressed herself. You didn’t need it, but you didn’t mind it, either. It was Alice. That was different.

But Edward was different too.

Edward was tactile, always reaching out to touch you, needing that physical connection to feel reassured. For him, it wasn’t just affection—it was an anchor, a way to feel grounded in your relationship. He needed the brush of your fingers, the warmth of your hand, the brief press of your shoulder against his. It was how he knew you still loved him, still wanted him. You understood that about Edward, and for the most part, you tried to accommodate him. Even if it didn’t come naturally to you, you wanted him to feel secure.

But over time, your calm detachment, your natural tendency to pull away from physical intimacy, began to stir whispers at school. You had always been composed, quiet, and serene—never one to make a fuss or draw attention to yourself. To the students, your cool distance with Edward was misread as disinterest, something they couldn’t help but gossip about.

"He doesn’t even look at Edward anymore."

"They’re never together—he’s always with Alice. Have you noticed that?"

"I don’t think he’s into him anymore. Relationships fall apart, you know?"

And those whispers, those rumors, fed into something larger. It didn’t take long for people to start trying to test the waters to see if maybe there was truth to the rumors. Jessica Stanley was the first.

"Hey," she had said one afternoon, leaning against your locker, flashing you an overly friendly smile. "If you ever need someone new to talk to, I’m always here."

Her words didn’t register much with you; you'd barely glanced at her. You weren’t irritated or amused—just indifferent. Jessica, like the others, was human. Temporary. It was a passing moment, one that would dissolve as quickly as it came. You saw no need to correct her or give her a second thought. You knew the truth, and that was enough.

But Edward, standing across the hallway, heard everything. He heard the thoughts that accompanied Jessica’s smile, her hopes that maybe, just maybe, she could wedge herself between the two of you. He heard the other students, too—the boys who lingered near you, the girls who whispered when you walked past. It weighed on him more than you realized.

He never let it show but you could feel it. Even if you weren’t one for touch, you could sense the quiet tension building in Edward. He wasn’t just hearing the rumors; he was internalizing them, letting them feed into his own insecurities. His need for physical closeness became a silent plea, something you recognized but didn’t fully understand until much later.

That night, Edward finally spoke.

"Doesn’t it bother you?" he asked, his voice calm, but edged with frustration. You were in your shared room, the darkness outside framing him as he stood by the window, his hands fidgeting with the fabric of his shirt.

You looked up from your book, your expression placid, as always. "What do you mean?"

"The students," Edward continued, pacing slowly. "The rumors. They think we’re falling apart, that you don’t care about me anymore."

You tilted your head. "They’re just rumors. Why do they matter?"

Edward’s golden eyes flashed with a frustration you weren’t used to seeing in him. "It’s not about them. It’s about us. They think I’m losing you. That I’m not enough. And then, when I see them trying to—”

"You know that’s not true," you interrupted, your voice soft. "You know how I feel."

"I do," Edward murmured, running a hand through his hair, his movements sharp with tension. "But hearing it—hearing them think about taking you, seeing how you pull away when I reach out—it’s like I’m losing you. Like you don’t need me."

You exhaled slowly, realizing how deeply this had been bothering him. You loved Edward deeply, more than anyone else, and you believed that your bond would be enough. Hell, he could read your thoughts—how they never strayed far from him—and yet, even that wasn’t enough. He needed to feel it, to experience it in a way you had always found unnecessary.

"I don’t need touch to feel close to you," you said gently. "But I understand that you do. And that matters to me."

Edward’s shoulders loosened slightly, but you could see the residual tension in his posture. "It’s just…I need to know that you still want me. That I’m still important to you."

"I’ve never stopped wanting you," you replied, stepping closer, your calm, steady presence meeting Edward’s anxious energy. You slowly reached out, brushing your fingers along his arm, letting the touch linger, even though it wasn’t something you needed. But you knew Edward did. His eyes closed for a brief moment, and you could see him relax under your touch.

"I’ll try," you said softly. "I’ll try for you."

The next day, at school, you made an effort. You didn’t flinch or pull away when Edward’s hand brushed yours in the hallway. At lunch, when your shoulders touched, you didn’t lean away. It wasn’t dramatic, just subtle adjustments. But Edward noticed, and so did the students. Jessica’s glances faded, and the other boys who had started to hover around you backed off.

For you, the need for touch would always be secondary. It wasn’t how you measured your love, and it never would be. But for Edward, it was everything. And for that reason alone, you would keep trying.

[outerbankies]

new light part 4: underneath the moonlight — rafe cameron

new light series masterlist

summary: you and rafe meet the parents (properly) and go to midsummers together, but not everyone is as smitten with your relationship as you two are.

pairing: rafe x kook reader

warnings: drinking, swearing

a/n: say hello to a few characters (tw: ward) i have had yet to feature thus far 🤗 more of y/n being besties with kelce (and topper this time—our fave obx himbo) there’s a lil drama in this part y’all... into the thick of it. thanks for all the feedback 💖not canon rafe

my writing

yeah if you give me just one night, to meet you underneath the moonlight

You’re startled awake by a loud knock on your bedroom door. You’re squished between 6 feet and 3 inches worth of boy and the pink wall your bed is pushed up against. Rafe always insisted on laying on your outer side, closest to the door of your bedroom. Which means you often woke up pressed into the wall, your neck sometimes aching from the awkward angle. Not to mention Wilbur always taking up the space at your feet, Rafe usually nudging him into your space so he could stretch out.

Rafe stirs also, making sleepy noises and stretching his legs where they hang off the end of your bed. He grumbles and smacks his lips together a few times, your hand instinctively coming to rub along his jaw. His eyes flutter open as the sun streams in through your window, illuminating the hint of golden stubble on his chin. You’d only slept over together a few times, since you were both staying with your parents for the summer, so it’s always nice to wake up with your boy in your bed.

Oh fuck. Your boy is in your bed.

Rafe's eyes widen at the same time as yours.

“Oh shit, we fell asleep?” he whispers, head whipping around your room.

“Fuck, you have to hide right now,” you whisper, stumbling through your thoughts sleepily.

Another knock sounds from the door.

You extract yourself from your spot between Rafe and the wall, his hands guiding you by your hips as you tumble over him.

“Just, fuck, just like—get under the covers or something. God, I hope it’s not my dad,” you whisper.

“Me too,” he says, slinking into the gap between your bed and the wall as best he can, covering his face with a pillow.

You check that he’s concealed enough, turning to open the door just the slightest bit. Dylan stands in the crack.

“We have brunch at the Club in an hour, mom wanted me to ask if you invited Rafe,” he peers around you, gaze moving to behind your shoulder. “Or I could just ask him myself. Sup, Rafe?”

“Shut the fuck up, Dyl,” you whisper-shout. “Where are mom and dad? Can he sneak out the back? And don’t lie to me, or I’ll tell them about Hilton Head.”

“God, calm down. Dad’s in the garage and mom’s getting ready. Just have him go now.”

“Thanks,” you say, all but slamming the door in his face. You turn around and press your back against the door, letting out a shaky breath.

The covers rustle, and Rafe springs out of your bed to gather his things while Wilbur watches him. He always starts pouting when he notices that Rafe is putting on his hat or shoes, signs that he’s about to leave.

“We are so dead.”

“You don’t think he’ll say anything, do you? I don’t think I can sit at brunch with your dad in an hour if he knows I slept in your bed last night.”

“Not if he’s smart,” you sigh. “Want me to walk you out?”

“No, I got it. Just keep Willy in here. I’ll text you when I make it out alive. If you don’t hear from me, just assume your father murdered me,” he jokes, leaning down to give you a kiss after he slips his shoes on. “See you back here in an hour?”

“Yes, please be early. And clean shaven.”

“Yes ma’am. And don’t insult me,” he mumbles against your lips.

“Nervous?”

“Not nearly as nervous as I will be if I get caught, sweetheart. Gotta go so I have time to shower—and shave. See you in a bit.”

He gives you one last kiss before he departs, and you move to the window with Wilbur to watch him slink across the backyard, arms crossed and a fond grin on your face. He turns and blows you one last kiss before he disappears around the side of your house.

—

“Y/n, can I speak to you for a second?”

Your dad’s voice comes from his study as you pass by, checking yourself over in the entryway mirror one more time. Rafe should be here any minute.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Come sit,” he says, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of his desk. You feel the hair stand up on the back of your neck. Your dad only invited you to talk in his study if it was something serious. The last time he did was when he told you he was going to take away your Range Rover if you didn’t pull your Bs up to As your freshman year of college. You’ve had a 4.0 ever since.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, everything’s fine. Just wanted to talk about the new boyfriend.”

“What about him?”

“I always knew of him while the two of you were growing up. But I talked to him a bit back during Dylan’s grad week.”

As an unruly teenager and the rightful heir to his father's business, everyone in the Outer Banks knew about Rafe and his antics. Good or bad. You could even recall your mom gossiping to your dad, words passed on from Rose, about some of his more... notable incidences.

“Y-yeah, he's...” you trail off, searching for the right words to describe Rafe these days.

“Seems like a good kid,” your dad supplies.

“What did you guys talk about?”

“Business, mostly. His future and whatnot.”

“Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?”

“No, I just wonder... are you sure about this one? When you were kids, that boy was always causing trouble. And you know your mother and I were always so proud of how you stayed in line.”

“I know,” you sigh. “But Rafe’s not a boy anymore. Just give him a chance.”

“I will,” your dad says, slapping his knees to stand up. “But I'm also gonna give him a hard time.”

“Dad, please.”

“It’s my job. Your mom gets to freak out about Dylan moving out, and I get to handle scaring every man who gets to look at you.”

The doorbell rings.

“Please. I am literally begging.”

Your dad draws a fake halo around his head, and you just roll your eyes.

The morning gets off to an even more embarrassing start as soon as Rafe crosses the threshold into your house. Wilbur jumps into his arms immediately, all ninety pounds of him, and your mom’s eyes widen.

“My goodness, he’s usually so hesitant around strangers!”

Dylan chokes on a laugh, and if you weren’t across the room you’d have elbowed him in the ribs.

“Oh, I’ve walked Wilbur by Tanneyhill before.”

“Yeah, I-I love Willy. Mrs. Y/l/n, it’s so nice to see you again,” Rafe says, effortlessly following your lead after Wilbur scampers out of his hold. He shakes your mom’s hand politely. Your dad sidles up to her then, fixing Rafe with a stare harder than you’d prefer. “Mr. Y/l/n, you as well. Thanks again, to both of you, for inviting me.”

“Good to see you, Rafe,” your dad says, a strong hand clamping onto his shoulder. “Dylan, come say hi.”

Dylan’s grin is devilish, and you're just watching on in pure horror at this point. “How have you been, Rafe? Haven’t seen you in a while.”

—

Rafe’s grinning ear to ear, hand firm on your thigh, all of the windows in his truck rolled down. He even popped the sun roof, letting you blast your playlist all the way down the road.

“Okay—I just... did that go well?”

“You did great, Rafe.”

Despite Dylan's best efforts to embarrass you two, brunch had gone really well. Your dad took a second to let his guard down, unlike your mother who was immediately gushing over him. You could practically see the wheels in her head turning, the wedding colors she'd picked for you. And your dad came around quick enough once Rafe brought up Formula 1.

Your boyfriend looks so relieved, hand even coming to feel the air pass through his fingers as he hangs his arm out the window, hand on your thigh coming back up to steady the wheel. He taps on it excitedly.

“Lowkey, feel like I nailed it, baby.”

“Okay,” you giggle, leaning over to peck his check. You pull him in with a soft hand to the other side of his face. “Let’s not get too big for our britches.”

“Oh, I’m a parent-meeting expert now. Might go into consulting.”

“You’ve perfected the sport?” you joke.

“No, no. That’s—I’ve never actually met parents before,” he admits.

“No way?”

“Way? Have you?” he asks, slight edge seeping into his tone as he pulls up to the stoplight outside of your favorite coffee spot.

“Uh... once. We weren’t even really dating yet, but they came to visit and he like, ambushed me with them at dinner. They were kinda hippies, though.”

“Yeah?” His tone is clipped as he parks his truck.

“Yeah, some guy from my comparative literature class sophomore year,” you sigh. “But, you’re the first to meet my parents.”

“Mm,” he hums, fingers tapping on your knee. That satisfies him. He gathers one of your hands in his. “You coming in?”

“Will you just get me a latte? Kinda wanna call my mom and debrief.”

He laughs, kissing your knuckles. “I’ll give you a minute, sweetheart. Oat milk?”

—

Your original plans to meet the Camerons fell through, a last minute staging emergency arising when you were all supposed to go for dinner. You’d tried not to look down while Rafe attempted in earnest to cheer you up, telling you how pretty you looked while you took out your earrings and let your hair down. He'd kissed the crown of your hair and apologized profusely, promising they would love you when they finally got to meet you.

“M’not upset.”

“Okay.” His hand stroked your back through the thick cotton of one of his old water polo sweatshirts he’d let you borrow for the night.

“I’m just really nervous about meeting them. You might’ve set the bar a little too high with my parents.”

“You just have a great family.”

“I don’t know,” you said when you finally cracked a smile. “Made it pretty far on your first try.”

“Don’t worry. They’re going to love you, sweetheart.”

You let him kiss your cheek, your forehead, your nose and chin.

“Hope so.”

“Know so.”

And Rafe had somehow convinced your father to let you go to Midsummers with his family, promising to join up for pictures and greetings later. Your dad had willingly let him, to your surprise.

The event was a big deal to Figure 8 patriarchs and matriarchs alike, always trying to outdo the other in every way, all while feigning some sense of island camaraderie. But when Rafe had set aside time at brunch to specifically ask your family for their permission to accompany you to the event, they’d been hard pressed to say no. Your family immediately accepted Rafe as your boyfriend, any lingering hesitations about his character drowned out by the equal chances of your personal happiness and the heightening of their social and business profiles.

But he’d still come to your house to pick you up, ready to greet your parents in the foyer once again.

He takes one look at you in that blush pink dress, hair, makeup and jewelry all done up this time around, daisy flower crown in place, and flicks his eyes around his surroundings. Your father and Dylan were nowhere in sight, and your mother was busy fixing her earrings in the hall. He takes to your side immediately, a kiss to the side of your head followed by his lips pressing against your ear. “I’m fucking obsessed with you.”

With the high from those words, you ride in his truck to Midsummers, nerves never dissipating no matter how many reassurances he speaks across the summer air streaming in through the vehicle. “Remember, they’re gonna love you.”

He helps you down from his truck so you can focus on keeping your dress off the ground, assuring you for the fiftieth time that Rose is going to like your headpiece.

“Miss Y/l/n, how lovely to see you again you at last,” Ward sighs, sounding somewhat fond. “Rafe’s been talking my ear off about this, meeting you again even though we’ve already met. Sorry we couldn’t make it work earlier.”

“No worries, Mr. Cameron. Thank you so much for inviting me to tag along with your family at Midsummers. You as well, Mrs. Cameron. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you! And of course,” Rose says, bringing you in for a hug, one you definitely were not expecting.“You’re out in California, aren’t you?”

“Yes, home for the summer.”

“That’s a long way from here,” Ward says. His eyes flicker to Rafe. “Long way from Georgia. Shorter, but still a long way.”

“Dad, c’mon,” Rafe cuts in, and you can feel his hand gripping the back of your dress:

“He’s just stating the obvious, Rafe,” Rose intervenes.

“Yeah, it is far,” you agree. Rafe’s head whips around back to you.

“We’re figuring it out,” he says. To anyone else in the vicinity, he probably sounds confident and self assured. But you know Rafe, and you can look into his eyes and see that he’s not. That if he weren’t in front of his entire family, trying earnestly to impress his father, he’d have said: ‘we’re gonna figure it out, right?’

“I’m sure things will work out the way they’re meant to,” Ward says after a lapse in conversation. “One way or another.”

“Let’s get some photos so we can all enter and the two of you can run off,” Rose says immediately after, giving neither of you the time to say anything else.

You do your best to shake off Ward’s comment as the four of you join up with the Cameron daughters, plus Sarah’s boyfriend, John B. After posing for what felt like hours, the photographer asks you and John B to hop out so they can take some family pictures, the two of you swiping up a couple of Old Fashioneds from the bar. You have to assure Rafe twice that you’ll be okay for ten minutes on your own.

“First time meeting Ward?” Sarah’s boyfriend asks, leaned up against the bar like he owns the place.

“Er—of course not,” you say, like it’s obvious. But of course John B knew nothing about Figure 8 social circles. “Just the first time as Rafe’s girlfriend.”

“Yeah, you look nervous,” he admits, chuckling when your mouth drops open. “It’s not too obvious, I just know because—been in your shoes.”

You should be insulted that the teenager compares his and Sarah’s relationship with yours and Rafe’s, but you know he isn’t being malicious. You see nothing but kindness in his eyes. And it’s nice to have somewhat of a teammate in this situation, the two of you standing by while one of the most powerful families in Kildare poses together in their finest outfits.

Rafe looks hot in his grey suit, especially with the pocket square he’d agonized over for weeks before you gifted him one that was hand sewn from the extra material where your dress had been hemmed. Monogrammed, of course.

You’d decided to go with his initials, since it was going to him after all. But your stomach gets fluttery if you think about the expression on his face when he’d received it, telling you that you should’ve put yours on it instead. “That way everyone will know I’m yours.”

Turning back to John B, you can’t imagine how he must have felt the first time he was invited into all of this. It intimidated even you, and you’re pretty sure John B was friends with the boy who delivered your family’s groceries every week.

“Any tips?”

“You’re way better off than I was, first of all,” he laughs. “But he’s really only scary when it’s one-on-one. He cares too much about this appearance of a perfect family to make digs in front of an audience.”

You nod. “That’s actually really good advice, John B.”

“Don’t sound so surprised, kook.” He clinks his glass against yours, promptly throwing the entire drink back as you watch and laugh. “That’s another tip. Drink whenever you can.”

“I’m familiar with that one.”

It's intimidating entering the event, a little after everyone else has arrived. Rafe told you that was by design—the Camerons could never be earlier than fashionably late. You always assumed you and Rafe were raised with similar pedigrees, but you're barely through the doors of the event before you realize that's not entirely true. Up until the last millisecond, Rose is fussing with Sarah and Wheezie's gowns, the older daughter making eye contact with you and rolling her eyes at her step-mother's antics. And Ward brushes Rafe's shoulders off more times than you can count, straightening his bow tie for him repeatedly. Rafe just places his hand on your back, leaning down to whisper into your ear. “You ready?”

You smile up at him, but your nerves are firmly settled in at this point. What you reply isn’t completely true. “Of course.”

—

You take John B’s advice, of course, and choose Kelce as your designated drinking buddy for the night. He was hard to keep up with, but you threw your inhibitions to the wind after you got meeting the Camerons out of the way. Plus, Rafe had more business to attend to than he’d let on, and you were getting pretty bored. Not too long ago he would’ve been right beside the rest of you, causing trouble and borderline embarrassing all of your parents. It was weird to see him walking around, shaking hands and rubbing elbows. He’d invited you into a few conversations, you trying your hardest not to simply watch him in awe.

You’re engaged in some strange dance battle with Kelce when he stacks his drink into yours, both empties at this point. “Your turn to get a round.”

“Boo,” you sigh, throwing your head back. “What d’you want?”

“Surprise me.”

“Aye aye.”

You’re turning on a shaky high heel, and you have to give yourself a little mental pep talk to straighten up. Of course you can, though.

“What can I get you, miss?” the barkeep asks.

“Vodka press, Tito’s, and a Jack and coke. Double Jack. Actually—single. Thanks,” you murmur, trying to fish a ten out of your clutch.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got the tip for this one,” a voice says next to you. Ward Cameron is sidling up next to you, sliding a fifty across the counter. Your eyes widen at the tip, trying not to be embarrassed as the bartender sets the drinks down in front of you.

“Oh, thank you, Mr. Cameron.”

“Ah, call me Ward.” He flicks his eyes back to the bartender, who quickly pockets the tip and makes himself scarce to give the two of you some privacy. You can’t help but think of John B’s warning: ‘he’s really only scary when it’s one-on-one.’ There’s no point in even trying seek out Rafe, you knowing full well you’re expected to stay rooted to the spot until Ward dismisses you. “Having a good time?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “It’s always fun to come back out here for this.”

“So, California to Georgia,” he whistles. “That’s probably a five hour flight, at least.”

“Yeah, um,” you take a minute to make sure your flower crown is perfectly in place. “It’s actually two.”

“Excuse me?”

“Two flights. From his school to mine. Rafe checked, he said there’s nothing direct,” you clarify.

Ward let’s out an indifferent chuckle. “Of course he did.”

Your eyebrow furrows because you don’t know what to say, turning to look at where your drinks are starting to melt. Kelce would be wondering where you are by now if he wasn’t three sheets to the wind. And where the hell was Rafe?

“Y/n, as far as I can tell, you are a nice girl. I just need to make sure we’re on the same page about one thing.”

Your heartbeat that hadn’t really settled since Ward approached you is picking up again, and you really wish Rafe had been the least bit more concerned about where you were at this moment.

“Um, I-I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

“I'm don’t know how serious you two are, Y/n, but I know my son. He's clearly very invested in pursuing you.”

Your resolve crumbles a little at that, your heart warming, thinking about Ward noticing something like that.

“But Rafe needs to be committed to finishing this degree so he can come home and start learning the ropes next year. And in four years, Sarah will do the same. Then Louisa after her.”

“Wow, that’s so lucky for you—that they all want to go into the family business,” you praise, not really knowing what else to say. It must be the wrong thing, because Ward just quirks an eyebrow.

“In this family, our business will always come first. Before anything and anyone else. Do you see what I’m getting at?”

You swallow, catching on to where this is going for the first time. You still go for playing dumb.

“Ward, I really don't think I understand.”

“But you do, don't you? You know Rafe. He’s a bit emotional, he’s a ‘feeler,’” Ward says sarcastically, putting it in air quotes. All of the niceties you experienced earlier when you first greeted Rafe’s family were long gone. You can only gather that it was all an act for Rafe’s benefit. But you know the only option is to sit there and take it. “He thinks with his heart, never enough with his head. Sarah, for example—when it’s time for her to cut that pogue lose, which it will be soon enough, I know she will. Whether it’s my decision or her’s. I can count on that, because she’s just like me in that respect; she knows we have to make sacrifices. But Rafe—I don’t think I can make that same assumption about him.”

“Ward, with all due respect, Rafe is really focused on the business.”

“You're correct, and I’ve worked hard to get him there. Which is why I can't have him spending his senior year of college, when he should be buckled down, traveling back and forth from California and getting distracted from his future by some girl.”

“Mr. Cameron, I would never—”

“You know that it’s true. I can tell you’re bright. You come from a great family.” It’s a compliment and an insult all at once. He likes you because of your father’s business and your mother’s social status, not because of what you do for Rafe, or what you have to show for yourself. He continues like it was nothing but the highest praise. “But right now, you are across the country from him, and I can bet he’s determined to make that work, no matter what it takes. Which I obviously can’t have,” Ward sighs. “It’s just not the right time. You can understand that, can't you?”

You nod numbly and pick up your drinks, hoping he’ll get the signal to wrap this up soon. You’re at the point where you can’t listen to this anymore, liquid courage re-flooding your veins.

“I’m not asking you to stay away from him, because you’re both adults,” Ward says, stopping you with a hand on your shoulder. “But I’m asking you to think long and hard about what’s best for the both of you. Rafe already knows what’s expected of him. He’s always known.”

You look back towards the crowd under the gazebo, able to make out John B of all people. He sees you talking to Ward, shooting you the most subtle thumbs up he can muster. He has no idea. You don’t take the chance to nod at him, turning back to the bar.

“Say the two of you let it go for the school year,” Ward bulldozes, taking a step closer to you. “And you end up back here too, great. But even then Rafe’s going to be working all the time, the longest hours he ever will in his life. For the next few years, Y/n. You’re so young—are you really going to tie yourself down to a commitment like that? What about your future?”

In a tone you hope comes across as confident, you say, “I really appreciate your concern, Ward.”

Ward's perfectly white teeth are pulling into an even more perfect grin, and the sight makes you sick.

“Great. I'm glad we had this talk.” He pats you on the back, leaving first before you get the chance to.

You just shuffle through the crowd numbly, not even reacting when someone steps on your toe, taking it all in stride as you seek the comfort of your friends once again.

You were foolish to think Ward would warm up to you immediately, or at all. You had been way too confident in yourself, especially after witnessing the wear working for his father had on Rafe. ‘He’s not an easy man to please.’ How could you be so naive, thinking you could coast by on your charm?

You’re a few feet away when you notice that Topper had joined up with Kelce again, as had your boyfriend. He’s joking with them, amused at the way Topper is clearly almost done tolerating Kelce’s drunken antics, but you stand and watch for a bit as he scans the crowd, gaze flickering toward the bar you’d just been at. You realize he’s looking for you when he finally spots you, his face relaxing as the two of you make eye contact.

“There you are.” He pulls you in close, kissing your forehead. You want to cry. “Where’d you run off to? One of those for me?”

He’s gesturing to the drinks you’re holding, reaching for the darker of the two. But Kelce is swooping in, snatching it out of your hold quickly. “Nope,” he pops the ‘p.’ “This one’s all mine. Sorry Cameron. Thanks Y/n/n.”

Rafe just rolls his eyes at the two of you, eyes lingering on your face when he notices your fallen expression. He sets your other drink down on the high top table you’re all standing next to, pulling you in by your hips. “You okay?”

If you had a choice right now, about how to proceed with telling or not telling Rafe about what had just happened, your instincts compel you to bypass the decision process altogether; you paint a careful smile on your face, shaking your head slightly. “Yeah, all good. Just zoned out for a sec.”

He isn’t convinced. “Tired?”

“Maybe a little. Kinda drunk. Are we leaving soon?” you ask, melting into him. It’s a lot easier to handle his tone of voice when you don’t have to look him directly in the eye.

“I vote yes,” Topper says, gesturing towards Kelce, who is somehow sucking down his new drink at an alarming pace while continuing to dance to the oldies tunes they play at these things. “Like, right now. Rafe, you’re hanging back right?”

You look back up at your boyfriend in confusion. “You’re not coming with us?”

He bite his lip in contemplation, looking around the party. The twinkly lights reflect off of his pupils, making him look starry-eyed as he surveys the crowd. A sea of opportunities to prove himself to his father. Rafe looks resolved when he turns back to you.

“Well... I was gonna stay, wrap up some stuff,” he explains. His eyes flicker across your face, still not pleased with your expression. “But that’s okay, I’m good to go now.”

“No, Rafe,” you say immediately. You take a deep breath, rolling back your shoulders and painting on a smile that comes easily with years of experience at parties like this. “Stay, I’ll go ahead. How long will you be?”

“An hour, tops. Will you take her?” Rafe looks hesitant, still taking your green light anyway, already slowly extracting himself from your hold, Topper rolling his eyes but nodding and beginning to corral Kelce toward the exit.

“I can’t believe you’re making me babysit two of them.”

“Don’t let her drink too much.”

“Hey,” you protest, pushing him in his chest half heartedly. The push barely does anything, only proving your impaired motor skills further. Or that you're dating a tree. “What are you, a cop?”

“I’m your boyfriend, actually.”

“Really? When did that happen?” you decide to play along, picking up your drink again.

“‘Bout a month ago, Y/l/n,” he says softly. He can see right through you, can tell you're putting on a show for all of your friends but you're still not okay. You have to break eye contact.

“Hmm, for some reason I thought you were just this guy from middle school.”

“At least this time nobody spilled on your dress,” he teases half-heartedly, and the memory only hurts you more. “Not sure I’d wanna sacrifice this one.”

“Can you—you guys are the worst. Focus. We need to go now, before Kelce gets his entire family blacklisted from the club. You coming or not, Y/n/n?” Topper begs.

You’re nodding, leaning up to give Rafe one last kiss before you leave. He holds you close to him with a firm hand on your back, voice dropping to a whisper right next to your ear. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

The lump in your throat is growing, but you push through, lowering yourself back down to your feet as soon as you can. “Yeah, don’t worry about it. Focus on the rest of your night.”

Rafe still looks unsure, his hand resting on the nape of your neck as he kisses your forehead. “Y/n—”

“We’ll talk about it later, okay?” you finally admit. Rafe nods curtly, can tell you’re not going to let him leave with you right now. But he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know that if you pull him away from his responsibilities right after that talk you had with Ward, it’s going to spell disaster for the two of you.

“Just some business stuff, alright?” he assures you. “I’ll see you soon. Forty-five minutes.”

“Promise?” you murmur, fiddling with his pocket square. He smiles down at you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Promise. You look so pretty. Half an hour. Now go.”

Topper’s guiding you towards the parking lot with a polite hand on your back, but you have to watch Rafe as you leave. You watch him approach his dad, who gives him a smile and a pat on the back. Rafe preens under his gaze.

But Ward must have been watching you two from afar because his gaze is flickering back to you, and he fixes you with a hard stare. He raises his eyebrows, bringing his drink to his lips. Taking a leisurely sip, hint of a smirk on his face. You can practically hear his thoughts: ‘Rafe chose to stay here with me, with the business, and sent you off with his friends.’ It’s everything in you to not let the tears that have been building on your waterline spill over. But your friend isn’t easily fooled.

“Y’alright, Y/n?” Topper says from beside you, trusting Kelce enough to walk on his own as you all near the parking lot. He moves to follow your gaze but you stop him, quickening your pace towards his gray Jeep. “Did something happen?”

“Ward Cameron happened.”

———

tags: @moniamaybank @downbytheouterbanks @littlementalpolaroids

[vennilavee]

to build a home - ch 4

memory misplaced

TBAH masterlist

Pairing: levi x reader (attack on titan)

Summary: a modern au where you and levi both work for the Survey Corps, a non-profit organization with a mission to help the youth of the Underground District.

chapter summary: reader goes through a bad break up. takes place about 4 years before the present story

Warnings: cursing, alcohol, drama, reader sleeps around lol

Word Count: 3838

Levi walks past your empty office, a morsel of curiosity wiggling its way into his mind. You’ve been gone for three days and it was an abrupt absence. You hardly ever take days off without letting everyone know.  He wonders if you’re sick or something. But you were fine on Monday… So what is it?

At least Erwin of all people has to know, as your direct boss. But Levi stays out of it, shifting his eyes to the interns who are furiously typing away on their laptops at their cubicles. He takes a sip of his hot tea and heads into his own office, putting thoughts of you to the back of his mind.

Levi doesn’t see you until the following week and when you finally do return, you come back as if you hadn’t been mysteriously gone for four days. He says nothing when he passes you in the hallway going to his office, only offering you a small nod of acknowledgement.

Your lips might be impeccably painted, blazer pristine and lashes curled, but Levi sees nothing but pain sitting in the planes of your pretty face. 

You don’t offer a smile back as you normally would. You don’t have it in you to break the lines of your lips to do so.

Concentration doesn’t come easy to you that day. You’re uncomfortable, out of your element. Maybe you should’ve stayed home. But you’ve been home for the better part of a week. You’re lucky that Erwin is your friend and that he allowed you this much time to wallow.

You’re uncomfortable in your own skin. You subconsciously itch your wrist with sharp nails. 

You’re single. It sounds foreign to you, considering you’d been in a relationship with your now ex-girlfriend for a little over a year. You stare at your fingers, at the absence of any of the jewelry she had gifted to you over the last few months.

You thought it was the real deal. And then it wasn’t. Something inside of you lurches when you glance at the photo of both of you near your monitor. With shaky hands and shaky breaths, you manage to peel the photo out of the frame. You don’t want to look at it but you don’t have the heart to throw it away. You tuck it into your backpack, hoping it gets crumpled without your intervention.

And she had broken up with you. The worst part was you hadn’t even seen it coming. Not even a month ago, you were talking about moving in together. 

You sigh, trying to avoid the inevitable spiral of despair. You can’t tiptoe down that dangerous path, not when you have a mountain of work to catch up on.

***

You keep to yourself mostly over the next few weeks at work. Levi comes to wonder when you’ll barge into his office without permission, as you usually do. He doesn’t see you with Hange in her office, scolding her about her habits or giggling over gossip. 

Your door is closed, and Levi can’t think of the last time he’s ever seen your office with it’s door closed. Levi was tempted to knock on your door but he can’t even tell if you’re inside. He hears the faint noise of typing. And then he hears a frustrated sniffle.

Levi steps away, not wanting to hear something that he shouldn’t. He hears you curse under your breath before he swiftly walks back to his office, pretending he was never there.

Leaning back in your office chair, you sigh heavily as iciness seems to fill your bloodstream slowly but surely. Has the ceiling always looked like that? So awfully bland and commonplace? Dull and dismal? Like you? Is that why she left?

Is that why she left?

You nearly scoff at yourself. Look at you, dictating your own self-worth over the actions and reactions of the person you love. Or loved. Love? Present tense? Can those intense feelings dissipate so quickly? What bothers you even more is that you didn’t even see it coming.

How could you not see it coming? How could you be so delusional to think that everything was fine, when apparently, it wasn’t?

How could she allow you the false sense of security? How could you allow yourself the false sense of security?

But maybe you had missed the signs. Were there any signs?

Maybe people just fall out of love. At least, that’s what she had said to you. That it didn’t feel the same. It’s not you, it’s me. 

Who were you to argue with that? You’ll refuse to beg, refuse to beg for an explanation, refuse to beg for her love. Even if she had plunged her anchor of a hand into your stupid, foolish heart and squeezed until you couldn’t breathe… You would never beg.

You swallow the ache in your lungs and bury it in the pit of your stomach, make yourself a cup of coffee and get to work.

A month. Then two. Then four. And suddenly, it’s six months later.

You’re walking into work on this bright, beautiful Monday morning. Birds are chirping, the sun is high in the sky and there’s even a light breeze in the air.

You’re coming off of a weekend long bender, complete with a throbbing headache and the taste of cotton in your mouth. Your reflexes are delayed and the sun burns red in your retinas despite your sunglasses. You hope Levi doesn’t catch the wrinkles on your collar and on your shirt. You don’t think you can handle his sharp tongue and scathing look. Not today.

You had barely gotten ready to leave for work on time this morning. It had taken far too long to kick your guest out of bed.

Your guest from the night before. You barely remember her name, you only remember the scent of her sweet, vanilla perfume. You recall it being almost too sweet. 

The thought makes you gag. 

Yeah. You’re dealing with the break up really well.

You set your backpack down in your office and head to the break room to make yourself some coffee. Of course, Levi is already there with his teacup. 

“Sunglasses inside? You look like an asshole,” Levi greets you, raising his teacup in acknowledgement.

“Thanks. You’re a dick,” You mutter, putting your coffee beans into the coffee machine and taking the creamer from the fridge.

“You look like shit.”

“You done yet?” You shoot him a scathing glare. Not that he’d be able to tell.

It would be almost comical, if you didn’t show up like this more and more over the last few months. He knows Hange and Erwin are worried, not wanting to set you off by confronting you about your behavior. Hell, he’s worried, too. That you’re hurting in a way you don’t even realize. That you need to heal in a way that might feel foreign and uncomfortable to you.

A hand brushes over your shoulder as he exits the breakroom, a wordless but welcome comfort. Your shoulders relax at his fleeting touch and you stir your coffee absently.

It had been a pure coincidence. It had been a stroke of fate, a laughable atrocity. That’s the only explanation, for why your ex-girlfriend is staring you in the face with another woman from across the club.

Mike, Hange, Levi and Erwin had asked if you’d like to join them at a club on Friday to end the week. At first, you had declined. And then changed your mind because you realized that you missed your friends terribly. You can’t recall the last time you had seen their faces for more than a few minutes outside of work.

You had even invited them to your apartment to have drinks beforehand- 

Your speakers are charged, the apartment freshly cleaned, and alcohol recently stocked in anticipation for company coming over. 

You wonder what Levi will think of your cleaning.

One by one they arrive, first Levi and Erwin, ever so punctual. Then Mike, with Nanaba. And last, but not least, Hange. About thirty minutes after all of them. You’re all already one drink into the evening and you eagerly give Hange a mix of her favorite cocktail.

You see Levi peering around your apartment in mild curiosity, and you can’t help but tease him.

“What? You impressed that someone can clean better than you?”

“No,” Levi rolls his eyes, but you see the twitch in his lips.

“It’s alright, Levi. You can admit it.”

“I’d rather choke on my own tongue, thanks.”

“Now that’s a sight I’d pay to see.”

You wink at him and walk away for a minute, when Hange calls your name to take a shot with her. It’s tequila, and it burns in the best way. Only Hange can get you to agree to tequila. As you walk away, Levi watches the curve of your hips, the glistening tan of your skin, the way your heels and your jeans make your legs look endless. 

He’s not immune to you. You’re pretty, but more than that, you’re funny and brilliant and caring. He thinks your ex-girlfriend is an idiot for letting you go, if anyone was to ask for his opinion. As your friend, of course.

Levi takes a hearty gulp of his drink, vaguely realizing how strong you had made it. Apparently, you were heavy handed with your pour.

Suddenly, his neck feels hot when he watches you lick your hand with salt and throw your head back to take your shot of tequila. The junction of your neck is accentuated by the necklace you’re wearing- it’s tight and inviting around your neck. And then the slight wince on your face, before thrusting a lime slice into your mouth.

He rolls his eyes at the thoughts floating through his mind before turning his gaze away and observing your apartment. It’s warm, littered with pieces and parts of you. A few frames hang on the walls, a painting above your couch. A mahogany bookcase to the right, next to your corner of plants. Your bookcase has clearly worn out books in it, some dog eared and some not. But you also have some trinkets on the shelves- a snowglobe, a small royal blue box with a golden ribbon on it and a little pink succulent in a painted clay pot.

There’s a light coating of dust on some of the shelves, but he’ll keep that to himself for a bit.

It seems like forever ago that you were in the comfort of your own apartment with your friends. You’re frozen in place, and it seems like she is, too. The woman on her arm glances at you, then at her, and then back at you before shaking her head and walking away.

You hardly notice. Because you only see your ex-girlfriend, in this crowded sea of people. And you feel almost nothing. Except for hurt, sadness, and the anger that follows. You have a million words to say to her and twice as many questions, except your tongue feels like lead in your mouth. 

The bass thumps through your veins as a coldness washes over you.

Was there anything even left to say?

No. You decide there isn’t. You’ve already come to terms with the fact that closure isn’t always what you need it to be.

Before she can get a word in edgewise, you turn your back on her and head back to your friends at your table. Levi notices that your lips are pulled into a grim line and that your shoulders are tense. But you say nothing, instead only offering to buy another round of shots for everyone. And then another. And just another.

Soon enough, your arms are wrapped around Hange’s waist as you both sip on matching drinks. A lazy, drunken grin is plastered on your face and you’re nearly swaying on your feet as you and Hange both sing along to the song playing through the club speakers.

Levi can feel a headache brewing. He usually hates places like this for the most part. But it’s not so bad, he thinks. Maybe because despite the crowd, the noise, the dirtiness of bodies close to each other… He still feels like he’s in his own bubble with Hange, Mike, Erwin, Nanaba and you. 

As quickly as your smile had floated across your face, dripping in drunkenness, it sours. Levi follows your line of vision and sees a woman who looks familiar. He can’t quite place it, and it takes him a few seconds to realize that it’s your ex-girlfriend. She’s currently walking towards you with a determined look in her eyes.

Conversely, your dark eyes have turned icy and you’ve recollected yourself quickly. Levi doesn’t know anything about your previous relationship. All he knows is that it was an unexpected break-up.

“Can we talk?” An unfamiliar voice asks and your eyes narrow. 

Levi thinks that he would hate to be on the receiving end of that stare.

“No. I have nothing to say,” You say coldly. You flinch when she tries to reach out to you. Levi doesn’t miss the way your hand tightens around your drink.

Should you grant her the dignity of the closure she needs? Are you mature enough to do that? You want to hurt her the same way she hurt you, and you’re not above admitting that. 

Despite the alcohol coursing through your system, you’ve never felt so clear headed before.

“Seriously? That’s a surprise,” She scoffs and Levi can see steam coming out of your ears.

“Are you kidding me,” You laugh mirthlessly, “You given’ me attitude? You are giving me attitude?”

“I’m just asking if you wanted to talk-”

“I wanted to talk six fucking months ago!” You hiss and step away from the table to face her. And so that your friends don’t need to hear you airing out your dirty laundry. 

Your eyes are wild, rage and hurt and poison flooding into them through an already broken dam. 

“Fine,” You shrug, once you find a relatively quiet place away from people, “Let’s talk. What could you possibly want to say to me?”

Your heart aches, in that familiar way that makes you want to twist your limbs together and never leave the safety of the four walls of your home. And yet, you are here. About to have a very belated conversation with your ex-girlfriend. You want to say a million things to her, you want to spit steel into her heart, the same way she did with you. You want to show her the poison that has curled in your blood and left a bitter taste in your mouth that leaves you choking most nights.

She can have a taste of your angry mouth when all she’s known from you is your softened, sweet lips.

She opens her mouth first, but you beat her to the punch-

“I cannot fucking believe that after six months of you not taking my calls or answering my texts or anything- the only fuckin’ reason that we’re discussing anything is because of a happy coincidence,” You seethe, pointing an accusing finger at her.

“You just- you just fucking left! And verbatim, you said ‘it’s not you, it’s me’! So it was just me, when we were talking about moving in together? It was just me when I told you I loved you? When I told you that we could work through anything, it was just me?!

“I can’t believe you, and I can’t- I can’t explain to you what it’s like. To be completely blindsided by someone who you thought was your other half. Only for them to say that the last year and a half just isn’t what they wanted. And for you to already have determined that this wasn’t worth salvaging- god, you are so- fucking- full of it!”

Your voice is loud, attracting several onlookers but you don’t notice. You feel like you’re in a pit of hell and that you’re about to be swallowed by flames. Tears of frustration, anger and hurt are dotting your eyes and you hate it. You hate that you’ve become this way, afraid to show vulnerability to anyone who might care about you.

“I deserved better! You know that right? You didn’t deserve me.”

She looks stunned into speechlessness and you want to turn away and turn your back on her. But you stay planted on the spot, subconsciously waiting for some semblance of regret or remorse.

You catch a flicker of it but it passes, and you wonder how you could have loved a person this much and still have known nothing about them.

“I’m sorry I ended things the way I did. I didn’t want to hurt you,” She begins and you don’t interrupt, “And I know it was selfish of me, the way I didn’t communicate with you what I wanted and needed. And led you on. I should’ve gone about it differently. And for that, I’m sorry.”

The roaring fire in your belly is slowly fading and suddenly, you’re exhausted. Your shoulders slump and you offer her a small smile.

“Did you love me? When we were together?” You ask quietly, and somehow she hears you through the chaos of the club. 

You know she did. You just need to hear it from her.

“Yes, of course I did,” She murmurs, “I still care about you. I want the best for you, I really mean that. And the best for you isn’t me.”

“Likewise,” You reply and find it in yourself to wrap your arms around her for one last hug.

You expel the final death of the relationship into the air with a cathartic breath. Despite the buildup of hurt, anger, betrayal and loss from the last few months, you feel nothing but relief. You are free from the invisible cage of closure, and you finally feel your wings spreading once more.

How can it be that just a five minute interaction can put your mind at ease so quickly? You had expected lingering resentment, or lingering something… And yet, all you feel is relief. That you were able to say what you had to say. 

It still boggles your mind that even though it’s been six months since the relationship ended, all you needed to fully move on was a five minute confrontation. Maybe you were mostly there anyway, though. 

Maybe time does heal all wounds.

Either way, all you know is that you’re suddenly very emotionally exhausted and you’re certain it shows on your face.

Hange looks like she wants to ask you what that was all about but she keeps her mouth shut, offering you the remainder of your drink. You give her a wan smile and finish the rest of it before rubbing your temples.

“You know what. I think I’m going to head out,” You finally say, fastening your clutch tightly under your arm, “Gettin’ tired.”

You appreciate their looks of concern but honestly, you just want to wash your face, put on comfortable clothes, bury yourself under your covers and maybe cry a little.

“I’ll leave with you,” Levi says after a few seconds, “I hate this place anyways.”

Yes. He tells himself that that’s why he’s quick to leave. A small grin graces your face before you give hugs to everyone in the group and slink away to the coat check. Levi follows you out of the club to wait for a cab and you both stand in silence.

“I can get a cab home by myself,” You finally say, turning to face him.

“Okay,” Levi shrugs, “I don’t know where you live anyways.”

“Stohess district,” You reply, but your voice is far away as you turn to glance around the street, “Hey, do you want to grab food? It’s on me.”

Your dark eyes are wide, pleading and slick with loneliness. You don’t want to be left alone with your thoughts just yet. You can barely handle yourself on a good day, let alone right now.

“Sure,” Levi says. He’s not particularly hungry but he’ll entertain you anyways.

“There’s a great ramen place around here…” You say, brushing shoulders with him to lead the way.

You feel as if you’re moving on auto-pilot. Maybe you should’ve just gone home. But you don’t want to be home. You don’t want to be alone, not tonight. You’ll prolong the inevitable for just a little longer. You can’t handle being alone right now. Not yet. 

Levi sits on the opposite side of you in the booth. There are several people at the restaurant but it’s relatively quiet, besides the bustle of the late night. You both sit in silence, but it’s not uncomfortable. At this angle, Levi can see signs and lines of fatigue on your face. But you still smile at him in that brilliant and disarming way, as if you hadn’t had a confrontation that had been in the works for months.

“Good, right?” You mumble, after another slurp of your ramen.

“Yeah. Tastes fresh,” Levi replies.

“It is.”

Another beat of silence.

“Thanks. For leaving the club with me. And coming with me to get food. Sorry I’m so- that I’m like this,” You murmur, looking into your ramen and continuing to eat. As if you hadn’t just apologized for your very existence.

It incenses Levi and he can’t bite his tongue.

“Who made you like that?” Levi asks casually.

“Who made me like what?” You ask with a raised eyebrow, setting your chopsticks in the bowl.

“Made you feel like you had to apologize for being yourself.”

Your eyes are wide and lips parted in surprise, “I d-don’t-”

“You don’t need to apologize for wanting company after what I’m sure was an incredibly taxing encounter with your ex-girlfriend,” Levi says bluntly, meeting your startled eyes.

You avert your gaze immediately, unable to hold his penetrating stare.

“O-Okay, Levi,” You breathe.

And you continue to eat your ramen.

“You’re not very good at pretending,” Levi observes dryly, “So don’t. Especially around your friends.”

The statement brings tears to your eyes and a dry lump to your throat. This man, who you’ve barely been a real friend to in the last few months, can read you like a book. Lately, the few times you’re reminded that you have people in your life who love you wholly and unabashedly, it brings waves of emotions you haven’t felt in a while to the forefront of your heart.

“If you’re going to cry, don’t get it in your ramen,” Levi says, voice uncharacteristically soft.

It pulls a watery noise, halfway in between a laugh and a sob, out of you. You both eat in silence, with some occasional quips thrown in between, until Levi pulls his card out to give to the waiter before you can. He moves with the speed and grace of an angel.

He’s an angel with steely eyes, dark hair and a tender heart. You’re certain of it.

tags: @simpingmaize​

[dweetwise]

have a semi-rushed riconti one shot because i couldn’t not write them for valentine’s day 💕

ship: ace x felix warnings: none word count: 4180

The problem with secret admirers

Holidays usually weren't something the survivors had the luxury of celebrating.

The occasional seasonal decorations in trials along with some ridiculous, thematical outfits seemed more like a sign of their Eldritch captor's morbid sense of humor than evidence of the passing of time. But sadly, lacking calendars and all, it was the most accurate estimate they had.

So when the Entity plopped down some fireworks and talismans on the generators to proclaim the Chinese new year, it barely affected any of them.

Yui and Feng seemed more on edge than usual, the decorations crude imitations of the festivities they were used to back home. Adam had told the group about the year of the ox and the Chinese zodiac, the teacher donning a new hoodie he’d received for the occasion.

For Ace, the holiday meant nothing more than looting as many firecrackers as he could manage, along with making questionable “horny” jokes to the few killers that had received ox-themed outfits.

But in the midst of the survivors' celebration or lack thereof, they'd completely forgotten about another well-known February celebration.

When Ace returns from a successful trial and goes to stash yet another firecracker into his generous collection of items, he immediately notices something that doesn't belong.

Inside the trunk, on top of the organized chaos that is his pile of items and add-ons, lies a note.

Curiously unfolding the piece of paper, Ace makes out somewhat messy handwriting on a worn piece of paper.

'Your smile lights up the room'.

“Oh, ha ha, very funny,” Ace says, turning to face the small group of survivors by the campfire.

“Huh? What's up?” Steve perks up, others following suit and turning to watch the spectacle.

“Someone left me a little prank note,” Ace says, rolling his eyes and flicking the slip of paper over his shoulder.

“What?” Claudette says with a frown, immediately reaching for the discarded note.

“What does it say?” Cheryl asks curiously, coming up beside the botanist.

“'Your smile lights up the room,'” Claudette reads.

“Aww, that's adorable!” Kate exclaims. “A Valentine's day card!”

“The joke being that we're continually outdoors,” Ace explains. “Meaning my smile does jack shit.”

“Are you sure? Maybe they meant figuratively,” Claudette gently prods.

“Yes Claudy, I'm sure I'm not getting mystery love notes,” Ace snorts at the incredulous suggestion, before turning back to the others. “Come on, whose idea was it? Fess up!” he demands, looking over the group

When nobody makes a move to come clean, others also looking around in confusion, Ace eventually focuses his stare on Nea, Meg and Feng, the trio of troublemakers sitting together by the fire.

“The hell you looking at me for?” Nea cusses.

“That’s lame as fuck,” Meg agrees.

“I'm tempted to make one now just so you’ll see—” Feng starts.

“That's a great idea! We should all make Valentine's day cards for each other!” Kate suggest, missing the gamer's point entirely.

“Look, there's a drawing too!” Cheryl suddenly exclaims, pointing at the back of the mystery note still in Claudette’s hands.

Ace sighs and leans over to look, fully expecting a doodled caricature of himself or even a crude phallic sketch.

Instead, he finds a pretty good drawing of some sort of flower. It’s not perfect, but it looks like someone clearly put a lot of work into it.

“It's a clover,” Claudette informs, glancing up at Ace with a smile. “No doubt for luck, even if it doesn't have the iconic four leaves.”

“Uh. Maybe,” Ace says, a little taken aback at the information. Someone really went through a lot of effort just for a small prank.

“So? Who's it from?” Steve asks impatiently.

“It still doesn’t say, Steve,” Cheryl sighs in irritation.

“I mean, Jeff and Jane are the artists,” Quentin points out.

“Uh-huh, sure, Jeff would draw a flower card for Ace and not his botanist girlfriend,” Meg snorts, making Claudette duck her head bashfully.

“And Jane—" Steve starts, excitedly turning to the former talk show host.

“No,” Jane interrupts the teen. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, but hell no.”

“No offense taken, sweetheart,” Ace grins good-naturedly, the cheesy flirt making the woman grimace.

“What about Bill?” Nea suggests out of the blue.

“What the hell are you on, kid?” Bill snorts, and even Ace has to bite back a laugh over the thought of the gruff veteran writing love letters.

“Just trying to think of someone in his age range!” Nea protests.

“Well, did anyone see anything?” Quentin asks. “We can’t all have been in a trial when the note was placed.”

“I’ve been in like three trials today,” Feng complains.

“I don’t think any of us really keep track of people at the fire,” Kate says. “Anyone could have walked by and put it there.”

“Aww, so we’re not gonna know who it was?” Steve frowns.

“Maybe that’s for the best,” Jane says.

As the commotion seems to die down, Claudette hands back the note back to Ace.

“You should keep it. It seems you have a secret admirer, after all,” Claudette says, smiling.

“Guess it can’t hurt,” Ace says, reluctantly pocketing the card. He’s still not sure it's genuine, but is intrigued by the sudden turn of events nonetheless.

Surprisingly, it seems the kids aren’t quite ready to give up on finding out the culprit. Some time later, Ace sees Cheryl, Steve and Quentin huddle together by one of the tree stumps, Cheryl looking to be taking notes on a map.

“Did you ask the ones who just got back?” Cheryl asks.

“Yup! Steve says. “Jeff was mostly confused, and David laughed his ass off. Laurie said she hadn't seen anything weird before she got taken to the trial. And Tapp just looked like he'd lost all hope for humanity,” Steve summarizes.

“Sounds about right,” Quentin huffs.

“Okay, so we've ruled out us three, Laurie, Jeff, Claudette, Jane, Bill, Tapp and David,” Cheryl recaps.

“And Nance has Jonathan, and Felix has his girlfriend,” Steve reminds.

“We should definitely rule out Nea too, since she’s way younger than him,” Quentin says. “Meg and Feng too, I guess."

“You're right, they always bully Ace too,” Steve casually remarks.

Ace rolls his eyes behind his shades and keeps shuffling his cards, not understanding why the group is so hell bent on talking about him like he’s not even there.

“Oh, and Yui,” Cheryl says.

“Good point,” Quentin says.

“Huh? Why?” Steve asks, confused.

“She, uh…” Cheryl falters. “Girl talk. I know it's not her.”

“Okay!” Steve beams.

And that pretty much sums up Ace's expectations for their little operation to succeed. If Steve somehow still hasn't figured out that the Japanese woman is solely interested in other women, Ace doesn’t have much trust in his detective work.

“Kate?” Cheryl suggests.

“She’s making Valentine’s cards for all of us as we speak,” Quentin snorts. “I don’t think she’d play favorites.”

“What about Dwight?” Steve suggests.

“Well… it’s definitely awkward and weird enough to fit his MO,” Cheryl considers.

“I thought he was into Jake?” Quentin says.

And that’s about the time Ace tunes out and goes to bug Tapp to play cards with him, hoping the detective will be happy to pretend like this entire thing never happened.

Ace doesn’t know how long it is before he’s finally taken to a trial, but it feels like an eternity. The atmosphere around camp is awkward as people trickle in and out from trials and someone always feels the need to point out he was on the receiving end of an anonymous person’s affection. The reactions, unsurprisingly, range from awkward confusion to straight up laughter.

So when the fog finally surrounds Ace, he actually welcomes it. The familiar sight of the Autohaven gas station is enough to take his mind off the teasing back at camp, at least momentarily.

But another problem presents itself right as he rounds a corner of scrap and finds Élodie on a generator—

“Hey, come here often?” Ace jokes, crouching down next to the machine to get to work.

—And the woman immediately gets up to leave.

“It wasn’t me, so don’t get any ideas,” Élodie scowls in his direction.

“Huh? I didn’t—” Ace tries to explain, but she’s already taking off in a sprint, and Ace thinks he hears her mutter “creep”.

Ace sighs and barely resists the urge to bash his face against the generator in frustration. This day just keeps getting better.

To Ace’s utter delight—that is to say, absolute annoyance—his mystery admirer becomes the biggest source of entertainment for the survivors. He doesn’t mind playing along for the first few jabs at his expense, thinking the others will surely get bored after just a few hours.

They don’t.

Most of the group still seem determined to figure out the person behind the note, others are content to gossip and joke about the possibilities, and some go as far as to blame Ace for intentionally stirring up drama. His not-so-subtle suggestions to let it go are shrugged off, and after a few days, Ace resigns himself to his fate and figures the sooner he lets the whole thing sort itself out, the better.

It doesn’t mean he’s happy about it.

To add insult to injury, even the killers seem to have a sudden hard-on for him, focusing Ace with single-minded determination every chance they get.

It's only a few days later, when the Pig kneels down Ace's prone form to place a trap on his head, that he realizes why.

“There you go, lover boy,” the woman's voice sounds mocking despite being muffled by her mask.

“Wah?” Ace asks, the device attached to his jaw making it hard to speak.

“I heard someone has a little admirer,” the Pig says. “I figured it warrants some special treatment.”

The word is accentuated by throwing Ace up on a hook, and the gambler's following scream is as much from pain as it is from frustration.

When Ace gets back to the campfire after having his head popped by the killer’s trap, he sits down on a log furthest from the group, hoping to get a breather—

“Hey, look who it is!” Ash immediately interrupts his moment of solitude, sitting down uninvited next to Ace. “How you doing, champ?” Ash grins, elbowing him in the side.

“What do you want?” Ace asks, feeling much more irritable than usual because of the constant teasing.

“I mean…” Ash says, before looking around and lowering his voice. “Have you figured out who it is?”

Ace rolls his eyes and resists the urge to slap the man with his own prosthetic hand.

“Come on, you can tell me!” Ash grins in a very suspicious way.

“If I find out, you’ll be the first to know. Trust me,” Ace whispers, lying out of his ass.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Ash laughs, way louder than necessary. “I’m happy for you; at least someone around here will be getting laid!”

Half of the camp erupts into snickers and the other half turns to glare at Ace, notifying him that their conversation was definitely loud enough to overhear.

“Not in front of the children!” Jane sneers, like Ace enjoys having his sex life publicly broadcasted.

“Oh, would you look at that!” Ace quips with fake cheer as fog starts creeping up his legs, thankful for the Entity’s timing even though he barely got back to the campfire. “Time for another trial!”

When the fog clears from around him, Ace is in the killer shack in Red Forest with Cheryl and Felix right beside him.

“I'm gonna go find Zarina,” Cheryl whispers to Ace, informing him of who their last teammate is.

“Sure,” Ace says, knowing it’s good to split up, as Felix has already started repairs on the generator in the shack—

“I need to privately ask her about the note!” Cheryl beams and is sprinting away before Ace can reply.

Which is just as well, because he might have said a few choice words to the kid through his annoyance. Thankfully, he's left with Felix, one of the few people who have treated Ace normally throughout this entire thing.

“Fuck this,” Ace curses, joining the handsome German on the generator. Felix glances up but doesn't ask, and Ace appreciates being given the space to rant. “This is the worst thing that's ever happened!”

“The note?" Felix asks.

“What else? It seems it's all anyone ever talks about!” Ace rages, throwing one of his hands up in frustration and nearly causing the machine to explode. “I swear, this is worse than middle school,” Ace huffs. “I have girls gossiping, kids pestering and killers bullying me. And for what? A shitty piece of paper!”

Damn, it feels good to get this out. Ace doubts Felix cares, but it's nice to get to vent to someone he knows won't make the situation worse.

“Whoever left the note must be an idiot,” Felix comments bluntly, and it gives Ace pause.

Sure, Ace is frustrated, but he's still a little sentimental over the note and cute gesture behind it. Regardless, he shouldn’t be surprised that the no-nonsense architect would find the notion ridiculous.

“I'm just so done with it,” Ace sighs. “At this point, I'd take any explanation. Even an 'oops, wrong trunk, it was never meant for you'. Sure, I like being in the spotlight, but this is getting unbearable.”

Felix doesn't say anything, only keeps working away; probably embarrassed being forced to discuss Ace's (lack of) love life.

“I—” Felix starts after an awkward silence.

“Shit, I'm sorry,” Ace interrupts with a chuckle, not wanting the German to be any more uncomfortable than he already clearly is. “Didn't mean to talk about ear off about this stuff. Let's get this gen done, huh?”

Felix immediately seems relieved, and Ace jumps at the chance to change topics.

“You ever been to China?” Ace asks, nodding at the firework decoration on top of their generator.

As they chat about one of Felix's business trips to Shanghai, Ace is simultaneously glad for a distraction from his Valentine's fiasco and melancholy about their shallow friendship.

Maybe he'd take this whole thing more seriously if there was any possibility it would actually lead to something with the one person he's even remotely interested in. If Ace was in his prime, he'd probably have made a move on Felix months ago, girlfriend and heterosexuality be damned. Young and reckless Ace wouldn't have cared, happily flirting his ass off.

Meanwhile, old and slightly less reckless Ace has to settle for shitty jokes and sneaking glances at Felix.

When the Ghostface finally makes an appearance during their second generator and proceeds to chase and tunnel Ace to death despite the others' best efforts to save him, Ace isn’t even surprised anymore.

“I'm starting to wonder if the note is even legit,” Quentin says one day.

“How come?” Kate asks, cocking her head.

“Don't you think Ace's secret admirer would have come clean by now?" Quentin prods.

“Maybe it was just the Entity messing with us?” Laurie suggests.

“If it was a prank from someone, I’m kinda proud of them for pulling it off,” Nea says. “Especially for this long!”

“I think it’s mean,” Claudette says. “They’ve allowed this to go on for way too long. Just look at poor Ace!”

Everyone turns to collectively look at Ace, who is just trying to play some goddamn solitaire in peace while the rest, again, seem content to talk about him like he’s not even there.

“He looks the same as always,” Meg snorts.

“He’s been tunneled to death the last then trials in a row,” Laurie scolds.

“I’m fine,” Ace insists.

“I think his secret fan is just shy!” Kate continues and sparks another debate, oblivious to Ace’s annoyance.

When Ace gets back from yet another unsuccessful trial and sees a group of gossiping people and a grinning Nea, he groans in exasperation.

Before anyone can bring up Ace’s least favorite subject, Felix butts in.

“Ace,” Felix addresses, coming up beside the group. “Do you have time to teach me that perk you used the other trial? With the longer aura-reading?”

“You want… one of my perks?” Ace asks, surprised.

Felix has always seemed more altruistic than others, and it’s no secret Ace's perks were only used by… Well, Ace.

“Um, yes. If it’s not a bother,” Felix says, discreetly glancing at the group of gossip-hungry survivors waiting to attack Ace’s misery.

And it dawns on Ace that Felix is giving him a distraction to slip away.

“Oh, of course!” Ace grins. “Right this way!”

As soon as they’re out of earshot from the campfire, Ace starts prattling away.

“Thanks for covering for me!” Ace beams. “I thought they’d have gotten bored by now—"

“It was me,” Felix interrupts grimly, making Ace pipe down and turn to look at him.

“Uh… come again?” Ace asks, confused.

“I did it. I wrote the note,” Felix confesses, looking at Ace in determination.

“What? Why?” Ace asks, incredulous. When Felix's bravado falters, he keeps going. “Look, you don't have to cover for whoever it was,” Ace sighs. “I don’t blame you for wanting this entire thing to be over—"

“I'm serious,” Felix says. “I've been lying for way too long. I should have come clean before, but I was too much of a coward.”

Alright, what the actual fuck? Why would Felix, of all people, have sent Ace a love note?

While he’s gaping stupidly, Felix continues:

“Claudette was right, it’s my fault for letting this go on for so long. I’m sorry.”

“But… your girlfriend—” Ace starts, struggling to wrap his head around the whole thing.

“Will hopefully move on once she realizes I'm not coming back,” Felix says. “I've started to accept that I'm not getting out of here.”

“Well, that sounds cheerful,” Ace comments.

“Sheiße, I didn't mean it like that,” Felix winces. “I just… thought I'd do things differently this time. Since I never had the courage to, in my old life.”

“So… where do I come into the picture?” Ace asks, skeptical.

“I…” Felix says, wringing his hands in a nervous gesture. “Wanted to see how you would react to the note. It was stupid.”

“Huh? How come?”

“I caused you nothing but harm,” Felix sighs. “First you thought I was mocking you, then the others kept bothering you, and even the killers were giving you a hard time. I'm sorry, I should never have done it.”

“No, I mean—” Ace flounders for an explanation. Sure, he'd been annoyed, but none of the things that happened were Felix’s fault. “Why give something like that to me?”

“Isn't it obvious?” Felix says, scratching at his neck while averting his eyes. “I admit I haven't celebrated Valentine's day much, but I assumed…” he trails off.

What? Felix was seriously trying to test the waters of… getting together with Ace?

It slowly starts to make sense. Felix’s strange behavior. The messy handwriting on the note, probably from Felix’s nerves. The surprising artistic talent of the sketch, after a lifetime of architectural drawings.

“Well, this is unexpected,” Ace says with a smirk, not able to keep the cockiness from seeping into his voice at the knowledge that Felix, somehow, seems to be interested in him.

“Sorry—”

“I said unexpected, not unwelcome,” Ace interrupts.

And then gets to watch the realization slowly dawn on Felix, the perpetual worried frown on the other’s face smoothing out as his eyes widen in hope.

“You don't mind?” Felix asks.

“Let's just say I'm surprised you haven't caught me looking,” Ace grins. “I never expected someone as handsome as you to return the attention,” he can't resist flirting.

“Ähm, well, I…” Felix flusters from the compliment, looking at the ground. “Am not very good at this.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Ace says.

Then, he reaches into his breast pocket, pulling out the infamous note he’s kept on him this entire time. Felix’s gaze follows his movement as Ace carefully unfolds the paper, crumpled and smudged from having been with him trial after trial.

“I thought you threw it away,” Felix says quietly, eyes wide in awe.

“You don’t just throw away a good luck charm,” Ace chastises playfully, pointedly brushing his thumb over the clover drawing. “Especially not one that’s the nicest thing anyone’s done for me in a long time.”

Ace bites his tongue to stop prevent more mushy sentiments from slipping out. Felix is still staring way too intently and not saying a word, so Ace clears his throat self-consciously tucks the note safely back into his pocket.

“I can’t believe you kept it,” Felix finally says, an adorable smile on his lips as he meets Ace’s eyes.

“Well, seeing as we’ve now established that we’re both sentimental saps…” Ace starts with a smirk, stepping closer to Felix to test the waters. “I have a question.”

“Oh, umh… Yes?” Felix says, straightening his back but still seeming nervous.

It's adorable, and Ace wants to kick himself for not noticing anything sooner. Still, there's no time like the present.

“Be my valentine?” Ace asks with a grin.

Felix's posture instantly relaxes, and the smile is back on his face.

“I'd love to,” Felix says.

Ace’s grin widens until he feels like it’ll be permanently etched onto his face. This is a much better outcome than he ever expected when he found an unassuming note with his items.

“So, ehm…” Felix starts after they’ve been staring at each other for a beat too long, snapping Ace out of it. “Do you… should we…?” Felix falters, nervously brushing a stray lock from his face.

“Wanna find a place to sit down and chat?” Ace suggests, not feeling any need to rush things now that he knows where they stand with each other. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a break from the others.”

“Me too,” Felix says, seeming relieved. “I admit I’m not looking forward to what the others will say about this.”

“Fuck em!” Ace says. “They’ve had their fun, I’m not gonna let them put you through the same shit as they did me. We don’t even have to tell them.”

“No, I want to,” Felix insists. “If I have to hear one more rude joke about you from Feng…” Felix’s mouth pinches into a thin line.

“Aww, babe,” Ace teases, the pet name slipping out before he can stop it. “You don’t have to defend my honor.”

“I do, and I will,” Felix says with surprising determination.

“Well, in that case, I won’t stop you,” Ace grins.

“Good,” Felix says with a smug little smirk.

And the sudden assertiveness makes heat creep up Ace’s neck, quickly starting to regret his suggestion to take things slow.

“I, uh, I think I saw a pretty cozy clearing not far from here,” Ace says, eager to get the chance to get to know more about his companion.

“Lead the way,” Felix agrees.

They end up sitting next to each other under the stars and talking for what has to be hours, but goes by in the blink of an eye. No longer having to filter himself and keep their conversation casual is a much-needed break from the past few days, and the smile never once leaves Ace’s face.

Talking to Felix makes the feelings Ace has tried so hard to ignore come back full force, reminding him of why the man caught his eye in the first place. Sure, Felix is still more attractive than anyone has the right to be, but he’s also insanely smart and surprisingly witty past the initial anxious exterior. The way he smiles and gives his undivided attention even when Ace talks about silly, insignificant things not only makes Ace forget all about his recent frustrations, but also takes his mind away from the strange world surrounding them.

And when Felix eventually scoots even closer and looks at Ace with nothing but fondness in his eyes, Ace has no trouble throwing his initial hesitance out of the window and going in for a kiss.

It’s not earth-shattering or particularly intense, it’s just really, really nice and makes Ace’s heart do stupid leaps in his chest. It’s been so long since he even kissed anyone, and getting to smooch the person he’s been secretly pining over for months and have said person eagerly return the kiss?

“Why the hell haven’t we done this sooner?” Ace voices his thought when he pulls away from the gentle kiss, making Felix huff a quiet laugh into their shared breathing space.

“I should have just signed the note,” Felix says.

“Good thing you can make it up to me now, Valentine,” Ace grins.

Felix chuckles warmly and a callused hand comes up to gently cup Ace’s cheek before tilting his head up into another kiss.

And even though Ace isn’t normally one for holiday celebrations, he’s looking forward to spending many more with Felix by his side.

[miss-smutty]

Fifty Shades of Billy Part 4

A/N- So this turned out to be the longest part yet. Some drama to come in the next part and maybe abit of angst and obviously some good ol' smut 😋

Strictly 18+ only

Summary- You confront Billy about the way he's been acting. Will it end in your favour?

Pairing- Billy Hargrove X You

Word count- 3.5K

Warnings- Swearing, smut

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Posted: 16th August 2019

As you sit back in your chair, you can still see Billy out of the corner of your eye. Billy's face screwed up with displeasure, the muscles in his face twitching with anger. Ok, maybe you went too far. Seeing Billy look like that was terrifying, it was like someone had flipped a switch and the red glow of anger had fallen upon him.

This could turn out bad. Very bad, You thought in regret. 

You were adding fuel to a fire that already burnt deep within Billy, but to be fair he has ignored you all day. That justifies it, right? 

Billy couldn't stand watching you with your hands all over Steve, it stirred something inside him. He could feel the anger bubbling while somewhere in the distance he could vaguely hear the annoying tone of Sally's voice. 

"Can you shut the fuck up for just one minute Sally?" He hissed, glaring angrily at her. She must have seen something in Billy that she didn't like because she got up from her chair and stormed off, muttering under her breath, leaving Billy sat alone with his thoughts.

There's a difference between wanting her and not wanting anyone else to want her. That's the only reason I'm feeling like this, I mean it's got to be the only reason - or so Billy told himself.

You watched as Sally hastily walked away from Billy, wondering what made her leave so quickly. Your heart rate began to quicken as Billy roughly pushed his chair back from the table. This is not good. You tried to get Max's attention, you were panicking now, Billy was on his way over to your table and the way he was scowling at Steve was concerning. I've massively fucked up here, what the hell is he going to do to Steve?

Steve's eyes widen as he notices your nervous expression, his eyebrow cocks questioningly but before you can say anything Steve jerks forwards from his chair. He gets up hastily from your lap where he'd fallen, both of you blushing from the intamacy.

"What the fuck Hargrove?" Steve says angrily, pushing Billy hard in the chest. Billy hardly flinched but gritted his teeth and squared up to Steve so there noses were almost touching. 

"Watch where you're going Harrington" Billy spat through gritted teeth. Billy's aggression was frightening but you have to admit it was pretty damn hot watching two boys almost fight over you. You were definitely in a trance watching Billy's muscles flex with tension, surprised there wasn't drool protruding from your mouth as you finally snapped out of it.

Standing on your chair so you could match their heights, you pushed them apart, your tiny frame not enough to take their weight.

"Max! Help me out will you?" You screamed, worried that someone was going to swing and end up clocking you in the face. 

Max rolled her eyes before standing up and grabbing hold of Billy's arm.

"My bets were on Steve anyway" she says snidely while you pull Steve away. 

Billy let out a belly laugh, I mean he actually held on to his stomach while he bent over laughing. The rest of you just stared at Billy's outburst, confused at what he found so funny in a situation like this.

"I'll see you on the court Harrington" he says after finally regaining his composure.

You could feel eyes burning into you, the whole lunch hall had turned to watch Billy and Steve arguing. They were probably hoping for a fight and when they knew they weren't getting what they wanted, they turned back to continue their gossiping. 

Steve tried his best to appear cool and unshaken, even though Billy's attack was totally unprovoked and out of the blue. Well to Steve it was, you couldn't help feeling guilty for being the instigator. If they couldn't read it all over my face then they definitely didn't need to know either. Steve smoothed his hair back from his face and patted down his trousers, taking him back to his usual well kept appearance. 

"What just happened? What's his problem Max?" Steve asked while still trying to look cool and leaning on the chair with one hand while the other was bent on his hip.

"Hmm well I think you talking to Y/N probably had something to do with it but who knows" she shrugged at Steve while raising her eyebrows at you. She knows. Of course she knows. You look down at your feet, unsure of what to say to either of them. 

"Oh. I didn't know you had a thing with Hargrove? Why would you go for a loser like that?" He turned to you actually waiting for an answer.

"I don't have a thing with him and maybe there's more to him than you actually know" you say defensively while walking away, ok more like stropping. You couldn't stand the tension anymore and had to get out of there as fast as you could. Weaving your way around the tables and chairs, your eyes becoming blurry with tears making you trip over a chair leg and fall on to the floor. Some people were staring and some were laughing, the walls were closing in on you. You ran from the lunch hall, stopping in the corridor to catch your breath, hugging your body tightly. 

                                      ***************

The benches were almost full with people talking amongst themselves, you could feel the excitement in the air. You stood by the gym door searching for somewhere to sit when you see a hand waving from the crowd. Realising it was Max and she'd saved you a front row seat, you rush over to her. 

"Thanks for saving me a seat, did you have to fight bitches to get front row?" You laugh.

"Perks of being family" she shrugs and joins in with your laughing. 

Everybody starts cheering as the boys make their way out of the changing rooms and onto the court. You notice Billy straight away, along with all the other girls in the room, his curls bouncing as he runs onto the court. He winks at you as he runs past and you can feel eyes digging into your back, mentally cursing you for being Billy's object of attraction. Max gently elbowed you in the ribs so you'd notice Billy winking at you, like you hadn't already noticed, you couldn't take your eyes off his tanned and ridiculously toned thighs. You imagined yourself grinding on his lap, his lusciously toned legs holding your weight as he gripped onto your ass. You were blushing now and Billy was watching you amusingly, mentally undressing him and imagining yourself and him in all sorts of positions. You were noticeably turned on in a crowd full of people, you knew it, Billy knew it and probably anyone else who was paying attention.

Billy was enjoying watching you squirm, he bent over in front of you to mess with his shoes. His tight, clenched ass cheeks right in front of you, you could hear the swoons from girls behind you. You rolled your eyes at how predictable Billy was. Knowing everyone was watching him, he was putting on a show, or was the show just for you? 

When all the team were finally on the court, the whistle was blown to start the game and of course Billy was on the no shirts team with Steve on the rival team. Watching the boys move across the court, ok not watching the boys but watching the way Billy's thighs flexed as he ran all over the court. Mesmerized. Seriously surprised you weren't drooling by now. You finally looked up from Billy's legs and saw him and Steve fighting for the ball, barging into each other and winding their legs around each other. Ridiculously proud of yourself for still not drooling over Billy's testosterone fuelled need to get one over on Steve, his alpha male need to be the winner. 

"I heard you used to run this school, is that true? King Steve they used to call you huh? Then you turned bitch" Billy hissed into Steves ear, still bumping chests for the ball. 

"Hey maybe you should just shut up and play the game" Steve replied, clearly flustered. 

Billy puts his foot Infront of Steve so he tripped over and onto the floor, leaving the ball for Billy. He runs towards the hoop with the ball, you can't help but feel excited from the adrenaline running through you as Billy jumps up, passes the ball under his delicious thigh and shoots a hoop. The crowd go wild with cheers as Billy cockily struts around the court, Steve still on the floor looking extremely annoyed. 

As the whistle is blown again to signal the end of the game, a group of girls from behind make their way down to the court and make a beeline straight for Billy. He laps it up, loving the attention and completely forgotten about you again as he drapes his arm around another girl. You can feel the anger building inside you again like what the hell was this guy playing at, all these games he's playing are driving me insane you thought. 

The boys all head to the changing rooms to get showered and the gym gradually empties. 

"You coming Y/N?" Max asked while standing up.

"I think I'll hang back a bit, meet you at the mall later?" Looking sheepishly at your feet. 

"Erm ok. Catch you later" she says furrowing her brow in confusion. 

A couple of girls hang by the door of the gym, looking over at you and turning back to each other to whisper. You raise your eyebrows and stare straight back at them until they get the picture and move away.

You continue watching the guys steadily leave the changing room but still no sign of Billy. You were wanting to confront him and ask him out right what was going on, hoping you weren't going to look desperate waiting for him outside the changing rooms. 

Steve was next out and he spotted you straight away but instead of coming over, like he usually would, he waved his hand away at you and walked away. Ok so I've really pissed Steve off, how did I get into this mess? You thought as you realised you'd counted eleven of the guys who'd left the changing room, meaning Billy was the last one out.

Now you were nervous, your words were a jumble in your head, you had no idea what you were going to say to him. You'd ran the conversation over and over in your head while you were sat waiting but you'd completely forgotten now it was time. Am I sweating? Oh god this is a bad idea. You took in some deep breaths to calm your nerves but couldn't stand sitting and waiting any longer. Right. You've got this girl, go get him. 

Your legs buckled as you stood from the benches, your legs and ass were numb from sitting on the uncomfortable wooden blocks for way too long. Your heart was beating too fast and your hands were trembling as you approached the double doors of the boys changing rooms. 

You opened the door just a crack and moved your head into the gap.

"Billy?" You shouted, hoping he would come out to you so you didn't have to go into the sweaty room. No such luck. There was no answer. 

You slowly entered the changing room into a small corridor, there was a room on the left and a room straight ahead. You took the left, there was a square of lockers and right in the middle were some benches. You walked towards the benches, slowly, worried someone would catch you in the boys changing room. Billy was there with his back to you, in only a towel, hung low on his waist. You stopped to admire the muscles in his back as he leant one hand on the lockers and closed his locker with the other. The echo of the locker door closing, bounced off the walls and startled you. 

You cleared your throat to get his attention and when he turned around, your eyes were immediately drawn to the line of hair that ran from his navel to where the towel hung low on his groin. Dangerously loose. 

"Is that drool?" He teased.

"What no, where?" You panic desperately patting at your mouth.

He walks over to with an amused smile on his face and runs his thumb over your bottom lip.

"Relax, I'm just fucking with you" as he leans down over you, making you feel like his prey.

"So what's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" 

"I... I" deep breath, I need sassy me to handle this. "Ive been in worse places than this Billy" you squeeze past him so your not backed into the corner anymore. Your bodies pressed together tightly as you manoeuvre around him and sit down on the bench Infront of him, his groin now eye level. 

"So you just thought you'd sneak into the changing rooms for some hanky panky?" He says cockily, lifting his eyebrow.

"Ha you wish. I came here so you can tell me what the fuck you think you're playing at" you say, raising your eyebrows.

"Well I was just going to jump in the shower but if you have other plans I..." 

"You kiss me and then completely ignore me and when you see me talking to Steve you come over and start a fight?" You get up from the bench, being so close to his crotch was definitely not helping you. 

"You can do so much better than Steve" he replies, his cockiness slipping just a tad.

"What, like you?" You spat, slightly more venomously than you planned. You saw the hurt flash across Billy's face, like you'd just slapped him in the mouth. His cockiness making you forget all about his insecurities for just a second. 

You reached up to cup Billy's face and he flinched at your touch, breaking your heart for hurting him. You saw the small boy in Billy again but it wasn't caused by Niel this time. It was your fault. 

"I'm sorry Billy, I didn't mean that. Honestly, do you think I'd be here now if I didn't want you?" You pulled Billy down into an embrace, sitting back on to the bench so you could reach him, his head resting on your shoulder as you stroked back his hair. Billy stands back up, facing the locker, hiding from you so you couldn't see him while he regained his composure. 

When he turns back around, cocky Billy was back, which I suppose was better than sad Billy. 

"It's kind of not fair, I'm at a disadvantage stood here half naked" that hungry look in his eyes again as he licked his lips. You'd come to realise that Billy used sex as a coping mechanism and you were happy to oblige. 

"Oh, how can I make you feel more comfortable?" You smiled coyly, looking at Billy through your eyelashes. You'd completely forgotten you were mad at him, that hungry look in Billy's eyes filling you with desire. 

"Well, let's start off on even playing fields first" he teased, pushing you up against the lockers and leaning down to nibble your ear. The feel of Billy's teeth tickling your ear made you giggle and squirm underneath him. As he lifted your top over your head, the feel of the cold lockers against your bare skin made you squeel.

"Shh Baby, someone will hear" Billy whispers into your ear. Hearing him calling you baby made you want him even more. Pulling him close by the front of his towel, grazing his dick with your fingers, you leant in for a kiss. Starting out gentle and gradually becoming more rough, your tongues desperately searching for each other, teeth gripping on tightly to lips. 

Billy admires your full breasts, using his hands to grope and pinch them making your knees weak

"You know we're still not equal?" He said lifting one eyebrow and kneeling on the ground. He grabs the hem of your shorts and slowly peels them down, just like he was opening a present, a look of excitement planted on his face. Thank god I wore my good underwear you smiled to yourself. 

He licked his lips as he saw your red, lace, french panties and looked up to you with a devilish grin.

Pushing you back onto the bench and kneeling in front of you, he rolled your panties down to your ankles. Lifting your leg up to his shoulder height he slowly pulled your panties off your foot and then spread your legs wide. 

"Mmm I've wanted to do this since the first time I saw you in the parking lot" he smirked making you blush.

Billy holds your thighs up, making you lay back onto the benches, so he can fully eat you out. He uses the tip of his tongue to tickle your clit, making you wriggle, the bench underneath you digging into your back.

Billy makes his tongue fat and licks all the way up your wet slit, circling your clit every now and then with the tip. You lean on your elbows so you can watch him eating your pussy, the excitement in his eyes as he tongue fucks you. 

"You taste so fucking good" he says into your crotch, the vibrations of his breath making you weak. He inserts two fingers into your opening while he continued teasing your clit with his tongue. Pushing harder on it until your grasping for his hair, pressing him down harder.

"Oh my fucking god Billy, I'm gonna come" you shriek, he pushes another finger deep inside you until he hits your spot, massaging it until he feels the warmth of your come all over his fingers. "Fuck!" 

Billy pulls away from you, looking overly pleased with himself as he pulls you up from the bench. Your knees buckle a little when you stand but Billy holds on to you. 

You stroll off towards the showers, naked, leaving Billy stood there mouth wide in shock. You look back over your shoulder coyly.

 "You coming or what?" You tease.

He looks like a dog with a bone as he practically runs after you, dropping his towel as he goes. Your faced with his massive cock for the first time leaving you with your mouth wide open in shock at the size and girth.

"Want me to fill that hole?" He asks leaning against the shower cubicle looking cocky and proud of his dick, knowing you weren't disappointed.

You nod shyly and kneel down on the shower cubicle floor. You take his dick in your hand, running the length of it and teasing the tip. Squeezing his shaft as you pump his cock and teasing everytime you reach the tip. Billy was watching you with admiration at the experienced way you handled his cock. You reach forward to run your tongue up his length and around the tip. You take the tip into your mouth and suck until it literally pops out, your lips smacking together. Billy throws his head back, groaning deeply. You could feel his cock twitching in your mouth. You took as much in as you could, sucking hard until your cheeks hurt and you could feel his cock growing until it was rock hard. Billy, still watching you contently, sucking in breath everytime you went down on his dick. One fist on the bottom of his cock, steadying it so you could move your mouth around his cock, circling it as you sucked and pumped with your other hand. Moving back so you could see how hard you'd made him, a drip of precum on the tip. You look into Billy's eyes as you lick his precum with the tip of your tongue, tasting the sweetness in your mouth. His mouth and eyes were wide open with pleasure. 

"Fuck me Y/N. You've definitely done this before" he groaned, thrusting his dick further into your mouth until you gagged. 

"I hope you know you're going to have to do this all the time now" he laughed as he pulled your hair into a ponytail, holding on as you fucked his dick with your mouth. 

Billy lifts you up so your legs wrap around him, he pushes you back against the shower wall and turns on the water. Thrusting his rock hard cock into you making you gasp as he his fat cock fills up your tight pussy. You watched the water from the shower drip down Billy's face, turning you on even more while he bit his lip and pounded into you. You dug your nails into his back as he bounced you up and down on his cock. 

Billy stopped and listened a minute making you whine.

"Billy don't stop" you said breathlessly.

"Shh I think I just heard someone" he said while slowly and gently thrusting into you. You heard it then, a locker door closing. Shit. You could just see over the top of the cubicle, the unmistakable brunette, fluffy hair.

"Shit, it's Steve" you tell Billy.

"Thats ok then" he says smiling, he puts his hand over your mouth as he carries on fucking you. Enjoying watching you desperately trying to hold in your moans while he thrusts deep inside you. You would think he actually wanted you to be caught the way he was relentlessly pounding into you. You couldn't take it anymore, you were almost there, your muscles clenching as your orgasm built. Billy was licking and biting his bottom lip, looking intensely in your eyes when...

"Hello? Is there someone there" Steve shouted, making his way over to the showers.

TAGLIST- @savagesuccubus @the-marvelatic @camiconfessions @stra-vage @spookybiiiitch @geeksareunique @apocalypticriot @justabeautiful-letdown @cynthianokamaria @aar-journey

[hiirunakaarchive]

– to act in haste (2)

↳ in an alternate universe where mc landed the fellowship, but not in the way she wanted. (pt 1), (pt 3), (pt 4)

◇ pairing: ethan ramsey x mc (haruna sakurai)

◇ genre: angst, like totally angst. through and through. not a single sentence of redeeming fluff here im so sorry

◇ song rec: comme au premier jour – andré gagnon

◇ word count: 3.2k+ 

◇ tags: @aworldoffandoms​, @perriewinklenerdie​ (thank u so much for waiting)

◇ author’s note: hi all! it’s been a minute! the release of OH2 finally inspired me to continue the piece that i posted last april so after a week of writing and rewriting im finally satisfied enough to post the second part! (this series is literally my baby please dont let it flop). i decided that this story will be split into three parts so i strongly suggest reading pt1 linked above if you want to make any sense of this second part LOL. pls keep in mind that i wrote part one before OH1 finished so it’s not totally faithful to the original story and has my own little spin of drama and flair so like always, feedback is always appreciated!! ill shut up now, ENJOY!

prologue

Dr. Sakurai was his epitome of a dream. Temporary, fleeting bliss that left just as soon as it came.

The two months following their confrontation were painfully, excruciatingly silent. She avoided him like the plague and the circumstances failed to change during the nine weeks he spent in the Amazon. He departed with the intent of banishing her and whatever feelings that still lingered from his heart and mind, yet one look at her was all it took for his resolve to crack.

He still loved her.

arrival

The first night marking Dr. Ramsey’s arrival back in Boston, the view of the bustling city from his airplane window evoked a flurry of fond memories. He had missed the city more than he cared to admit, yet, he had come to hate it just the same.

As the plane landed and rolled against the tarmac, Ethan stared vacantly at the distant lights of the city and let his thoughts wander.

Has she been taking care of herself?

Is she still angry with me?

Does she look any different from when I last saw her?

He let out a huff of frustration and accepted the bitter truth. Two months of cowardice and deliberately running from the thought of her did nothing to ease the sting of reality amidst his return to America.

Leaning back against the headrest, he muttered. “I need a drink.”

The next two hours passed in a blur. The doctor disembarked the aircraft in a hurry and retrieved his luggage from the carousel just as quick. Amongst that and hopping into the first cab he could hail, Ethan was unsure whether his haste was just in desperation to get home and rest or to quench his thirst for the god damn drink that airplane liquor couldn’t satisfy. 

He stumbled into his apartment and let Jenner out of the carrier, the pet becoming nothing but an obscure whiz of fur as he zipped out of the cage to celebrate the comfort and familiarity of their home.

The kitchen was still pristine, though not without a bit of dust. Looming over the marble counters and to the dining table across the room, Ethan found himself reminiscing over the last meal he had here.  

“The fellowship. Why did I win?”

“Did you think it would make me happy?”

“Is that it, Ethan? Do you pity me?”

“Christ.” He cursed to himself, ripping open the cupboards.

A single bottle of red wine greeted him, still three quarters full and untouched since the last disastrous dinner he had with Dr. Sakurai. It seemed to splash delightfully against its bottle as the man rolled his eyes and filled the glass to the brim. Inhaling the aroma and swirling the liquid with a delicate motion of his wrist, he took a sip.

This tastes like shit.

Ethan poured the wine down the sink along with the remaining contents of the bottle, bidding goodbye to the last physical remnant of that tear-ridden night two months ago.

He still needed a damn drink though.

- 

The first step he took into Donahue’s was a hopeful one, and he cursed to himself in disappointment for knowing exactly what, or more specifically, who he was hoping to see.

He quickly scanned the booths and bar, failing in the search for that recognizable head of vibrant red and black. The only vibrance he was getting was from the familiar disco ball that loomed overhead, which made him squint in distaste. Taking a seat at the bar, a voice he could only recognize as Reggie’s called to him from behind the counter, his back to him.

“Welcome, I’ll be right with you.” He said, not bothering to turn around.

“I thought I told you to get rid of that god awful toy on the ceiling.”

Reggie’s head snapped up.

“Two months of disappearing off the face of the earth did nothing to fix that attitude of yours, Ramsey.” He smiled at his regular warmly before grabbing a bottle of scotch and pouring a glass.

Reggie slid it to him across the table.

“On me. Welcome back.”

Taking it gratefully, Ethan rose it to the bartender in a toast for his generosity.

“Thank you, Reg.” He said, stepping off the stool and making his way towards his favourite spot on the patio.

Midway through the exit, the doctor’s annoyance was already stirred by the booming voices and clinking of glass from an unknown group. They were counting down, and to what, exactly? He could not, for the life of him, be bothered.

And then he heard it.

“Midnight!”

Her voice.

“To kicking ass and running Edenbrook-“

Oh God, no.

“— as second-year residents!”

Ethan stopped fully in his tracks, and the eyes that solely wandered the deck in search of a free table landed on a picnic bench where five very familiar faces smiled and laughed.

Dr. Trinh, Dr. Greene, Dr. Lahela—

He exhaled in relief as he spotted Dr. Varma.

So they’ve gone back to being friends.

And smack in the middle, Dr. Sakurai.

Haruna Sakurai.

Fairy lights that illuminated the patio in protest to the evening were strung between poles and trees erected around the terrace. Yet amongst it all, Dr. Ramsey still found her to be shining the brightest. She still had that proper and dignified air about her, and the man was relieved to see that she had begun to smile again, albeit not as merrily as she used too. He could tell that in the several months they haven’t spoken to each other that she was no longer the same wide-eyed, inquisitive doctor she once was.

I solved the case!

I figured out a way to help some people who really deserve it. It’s a good feeling.

What it means to be a doctor? It means fighting the inevitable.

During Dr. Sakurai’s first year at Edenbrook, she had admitted to Dr. Ramsey that she regarded him as her reckoning. Perhaps that was what pushed her to try harder. 

“Yeah, you were definitely an asshole, but it was less you that I was scared of, and more ‘This asshole is my greatest inspiration and I can’t disappoint him’.” She rambled on their stroll back to the hospital from Derry Roasters.

He chuckled fondly as he continued to look straight ahead, the corners of his mouth curving up in a ghost of a smile.

“You could never disappoint me.”

She had learned and grown, and Dr. Ramsey was there to witness every budding moment of it. It was then that he realized that she was the one to be reckoned with.

A few tables from Edenbrook’s newest residents, he spotted the bar where he could enjoy his drink alone and in peace. He looked away from the joyous bunch and started towards the empty stools, but not without inevitably passing by the group first. Dr. Greene spotted him, his eyes lighting up in recognition and Ethan sighed in abandonment of any hope of getting to the other side of the beer garden unbothered.

“Speaking of the diagnostics team...” Elijah whispered audibly.

As the others in the group indulged in their gossip about Ethan’s heroic medical mission across the continent, Sakurai tensed visibly. He stopped in front of their table and for the first time in a very long time, she willed herself to look up and make her eyes meet his.

“Rookie...” Ethan greeted her coolly as he broke the silence.

Haruna’s jaw clenched and he questioned his audacity at still daring to call her by her nickname. Perhaps they were both thinking the same thing. How could they address each other– no, even look at each other, knowing that they were going to work together again? Above it all, how could Dr. Sakurai come to the hospital everyday; constantly, ceaselessly interacting with the living reminder that her position on the diagnostics team wasn’t even rightfully hers? 

They left things on a horrifically bitter and awkward note, and Haruna’s eyes darted between her friends across the table, begging to be bailed out.

Dr. Trinh shifted uncomfortably, Dr. Lahela took a flippant sip of his beer as he eyed Haruna protectively, and Dr. Varma glared at the attending with eyes ablaze. Dr. Greene seemed to be the only one unbothered by Ethan’s presence.

Haruna breathed in once before plastering on a fake smile.

“It’s good to have you back, Dr. Ramsey.” 

The fake sentiment wrenched at his chest, the gaze that once beamed at him with stars and everything bright now replaced with something hollow and resentful. He was careless enough to let the turmoil show on his face momentarily before collecting himself.

“Yeah... good to be back,” Was all he could muster.

Sensing the tension between himself and the five young doctors, Ethan nodded his head once before continuing to the main bar.

“Doctors. Enjoy your night.”

Sakurai’s eyes lingered on him as he walked away, and the holes he felt being burned into his back vanished once he took his very distant seat at the bar. Her friends continued on with their idle chitchat, and Ethan found himself listening intuitively. No amount of distance he placed between himself and that rambunctious group could keep him from overhearing bits and pieces of their conversation.

They cackled and toasted some more, and the strangers around them, be it alone or with company, indulged in their own private celebrations as well. Yet despite the boisterous nature of his surroundings, all he could hear was her.

“I’m a colossal pain in the ass! I don’t want to be responsible for another me!”

And he couldn’t help but laugh.

present

Since that fateful evening two weeks ago, Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Sakurai assumed their normal routine, save for the scowl she tried to hide every time she saw him. Despite the circumstances, he kept a close eye on her as she eased into her place on the diagnostics team, having succeeded in charming Baz with her amiable personality, and June as they made small talk in regards to their common cultural heritage. Sakurai remained quiet and unassuming during her first few days, but she had proven herself to be a quick learner.

“Female, thirty seven, Caucasian.” Ethan began as everyone took their seats.

He uncapped a black marker, scribbling across the board and throwing out answers before the other three had a chance to ask. This was their regular pace, which by now, Dr. Sakurai had grown accustomed to. She certainly looked less bewildered than she did her first day there. 

“Reason for admission was pain and numbness in the extremities. Former doctors thought it was...a stroke.” Ethan grimaced and Dr. Mirani snorted.

“What turned up in her bloodwork?” Dr. Hirata asked as she shook her head ruefully. “Did she have a urinalysis done?”

The three experienced doctors proceeded with their swift exchange of ideas, their discussion riddled with numerous ifs, buts, and whys. Dr. Sakurai listened intently and remained silent with her eyes glued to her notebook, almost so silent that Ethan almost questioned if she was even wholly present. 

“Negative for multiple sclerosis, but just before she was discharged presented with irritable bowel syndrome.” He continued.

“Could it be fibromyalgia then?” Dr. Sakurai finally suggested, looking up from paper ridden with chicken scratch notes scrawled in red pen.

Baz and June raised their eyebrows in delighted surprise. “Seconded,” and Ethan regarded his protege collectedly.

“I thought so as well. Excellent work, Dr. Sakurai.” To which she merely nodded in response.

Later that day, Ethan found himself strolling down the halls of Edenbrook in Dr. Baz Mirani’s company. He chatted endlessly, recalling the meeting from earlier that morning and shifted the topic of conversation to Dr. Sakurai. Ethan was never one to entertain idle gossip, but when it came to her, he couldn’t bring himself to not listen.

“Did you know that her red hair was a mistake?” Baz cackled.

“She told me that she accidentally booked her hair appointment two hours after her board and came in sleep deprived. Knocked out as she soon as she sat in that chair and woke up with Flaming Cheetos for a head!” The doctor brought a hand up to his chest to ease himself as he laughed. 

Ethan stayed silent as his colleague relayed her story. Of course he knew. He knew that she hated her red hair with every fibre of her being, but still complimented the stylist’s work and tipped her generously. He knew that as soon as she got home, she locked herself in her room and cried while trying to convince herself that her new look was symbolic of her “badass-ness.” He knew that she spent the next year using aloe vera in a desperate attempt to grow it out before applying for residency. How could he forget?

“You know, I wasn’t sure what to think of her at first, knowing the whole deal about how she got into the team and all.” Baz conceded and the guilt resurfaced, threatening to swallow Ethan whole.

“Baz, if you’re going to-”

“But she’s really good. Shows a lot of promise. I understand why you did what you did, but I’d be lying if I said I completely agreed with your poor execution.” He finished, shrugging indifferently.

“Ahem.” 

A woman’s voice behind them cleared her throat and Baz’s eyes widened in horror as he shot Ethan a quick glance, both men knowing just who exactly had requested their attention. They turned around, and Mirani greeted her with an almost suspicious grade of enthusiasm.

"Dr. Sakurai! You see, this- what I was saying to Eth- no, Dr. Ramsey is that-”

She smiled at him, unbothered.

“You forgot your pager again,” She teased, handing it to him gently before heading the other direction with not another word.

Ethan’s gaze followed her retreating form, pain stricken. He was almost jealous of Baz, even just for a moment. When was the last time Haruna had caught him in a moment of blundering and regarded him lovingly nonetheless? He failed to recall the last time that she flashed him the smile that no one else could bring to her face but him. The kind where the corners of her eyes crinkled and she had to bury her face in her hands because she was too embarrassed to show that face out in the open. It was one of the many things that made him fall in love with her, and continue to love her all the same.

He missed her. More than he could have ever imagined possible.

Dr. Mirani exhaled in relief as she left. “Well! That could have gone a lot worse than I- Dr. Ramsey?”

And, before he realized where his feet had begun to take him, he went after her. He couldn’t let things continue like this. He couldn’t stand it.

“Wait, Rookie-” 

The large strides that Ethan took to catch up to Dr. Sakurai in the empty hall were not many. Her steps were small but filled with purpose, and her heels that clacked mercilessly against the slate floor stopped abruptly. She turned to face him, and the second Haruna’s eyes met his, he was only reminded of the newfound hatred ulcerating at her very core. 

She raised an eyebrow. “Not a rookie anymore, Doctor.”

The lack of emotion in Dr. Sakurai’s voice as she addressed the man stung. He should be used to this. He should have foreseen this. But one year of knowing and loving her could never have prepared Ethan for her villainously petty demeanor finally directed at him. Two weeks since she said his name in a voice dripping with venom, and she hasn’t dared to utter it since.

Always, “Yes, Doctor,” or, “Noted, Doctor.” It was driving him insane.

“Dr. Ramsey.” He attempted, his tone dribbling with an impatience he didn’t realize had been brewing.

“Doctor.” She challenged.

He looked at her, a muscle in his jaw twitching in annoyance. She looked at him, arms crossed and adamant on winning whatever contest it was that they had engaged in. And they stayed like that, for several seconds until a group of interns passing by and regarding them with curiosity forced them to look away. Dr. Sakurai closed her eyes and exhaled once, gathering herself before maneuvering her way around the older doctor.

“Excuse me.” 

He watched her as she side-stepped him, about to continue her journey to her destination if he didn’t gently take her by the wrist and pull her into the medicine supply room. The very same one they hid in when they still kept Naveen a secret.

“W-What are you– Don’t fucking touch me.” Dr. Sakurai hissed once they had entered, jerking her hand from his grip.

“Are you going to be like this every time you see me?” Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose and looked up to the ceiling.  

“If we’re being honest? Yeah, yeah I am.”

“I meant it when I said I was sorry.”

“And I meant it when I said sorry wasn’t good enough.” 

“Look at yourself, Sakurai.” Ethan scoffed.

“Petty like a child. Did you think your official status as a resident would suffice in masking this juvenile drivel or should I just throw you back in with this year’s batch of interns?”

Haruna stared at him blankly, and just for a moment he felt his chest tighten. Her resentful gaze made him miss the way they once were, and he ached for her to look at him the way she used to, but Ethan’s lamenting was cut short as Sakurai’s mouth twitched. A failed attempt to contain herself before she burst into bitter laughter.

“You can do that, can’t you?” She asked disdainfully.

“Give one of them my position while you’re at it. The same way you gave it to me.”

He took a step toward her and she stayed put, refusing to be intimidated by the man that stood just over six inches taller. Then they were achingly close, the distance between them so small that her shoes were flush against his own. So small that Haruna couldn’t help but inhale the scent of musk and Italian cypress from his cologne. Ethan looked down at her angrily and the younger woman looked back up at him with a fire just as intense.

“You might hate the means of how you got here, Dr. Sakurai, but the deed is done. There’s nothing you can do to change it so I strongly suggest getting over your vendetta against me and doing what you’re supposed to do.”

“Yeah? And what might that be?” 

“Your damn job, for one!”

She finally stepped back, struck, and looked at him as if she was seeking clarification.

“My job? My job?!” She asked angrily, her voice raised in a crescendo.

Her jaw hung open as she stared at the floor in disbelief, scoffing as she processed Ethan’s last statement. The second seemed to last far too long before Haruna finally met his gaze. Her lip quivered as she shot him a look of pure, utter disgust.

“I took you for many things, but a hypocrite was never one of them.” She spat and Ethan felt his glare soften in realization.

You came here to fix things, and now look at what you’ve done.

“Rookie-” He began, his tone considerably weaker.

“Don’t. You don’t get to call me that. Not anymore. I’ll see you on the floor, Dr. Ramsey.” 

She left, and any hidden meanings to whatever relationship they had departed with her. He was no longer an Ethan Ramsey to her, and she was no longer a Haruna Sakurai to him.

She was just a resident. He was just her boss. And this unpalatable truth broke him.

[jmeddows2]

Purple Thunder (Roger Taylor Series) Part 7

(present/old) Roger Taylor Series Notes:   Pretty much only dialogue. Sorry that this one is shite. A little a bomb at end. It’s really, really short. Only because the next chapter is going to be filled with much spicy drama sorry for mistakes, english is not my first language Warnings: mentions of cheating, cursing

Oh love. Love is all around. In the streets, in pictures, on Instagram. Of you course you couldn’t keep yourself from stalking her Instagram profile. Reviewing every single post that included Roger just in the slightest,  being very careful, trying to leave no evidence behind, which could be resulting in accidently liking a post. Every picture of husband and wife together, smiling and happy made you feel smaller. Guilty, but also jealous. It was still her who could call Roger her own. Refreshing her feed – a new post. A picture of Sarina and Roger all snuggled up. The caption? Her stating how much she missed him while she was gone, confessing her undying love for him with a quote. It made you feel sick. The thought that you just had to accept it how it was. The longer you stared at the picture, analyzing all the scenarios that could have happened between them and probably still do, made the situation even worse. Just when you thought the situation couldn’t get any worse, the phone rang. Josh. “Hi baby, how’s it going? I miss you so much” he called from the other side of the world. “Hi Josh” “Is everything alright? You sound not too well” You couldn’t tell him the truth over the phone, could you? “Yeah… just miss you that’s all” …not entirely a lie. “I don’t really know if I can believe you” he said, clearly distracted by the sounds in the background. A clear indication that he was on their tour bus. “I get it if you don’t want to talk about it on the phone. But you can tell me in two days in person” “in two days?” shit “Yeah? Did you forget? You’re flying out to NYC for the last two weeks of tour!” “oh right. Of course, I know that” this time, it was a lie. How the fuck could you forget that? “So excited to hear what you’ve been doing while I was gone! Care to send me some demos of your new music? Or no!! I want to be with you when I first hear it. I can’t wait to be with you again, baby. Been so lonely without you” You didn’t say anything. You didn’t know what to say, or how to say anything without breaking down, confessing. It was so unfair to him. After everything you’ve been through together.  But you know what they say. All is fair in love and war. Even if it hurts sometimes. [inserts “Too much Love will Kill you] “I got to go” Josh broke the silence which felt like it lasted minutes when in reality it was just seconds. “We’re on our next stop now, I’ll keep texting you though and please call me once you landed safely. I love you, (Y/N)” “Bye Josh” 1 unread message from: *From: Ruf – Darkness* “ look outside your window x” Without hesitation, you went to the big window in your living room, looking out for Rufus. He was leaning with his back against the car,  that used to be Roger’s in the 80’s, which he also drove when you went to Roger’s house in Surrey. His blond hair was in a bun. When he spotted you, he waved, his phone by his ear. Yours rang. “Come on down, we’re going to have lunch together” he called through the phone with a smile on his lips. “Alright, give a few minutes” Throwing on the nearest clothes you could find, you rushed down to Rufus. “Hi lovie” he hugged you and opened the door to the passenger seat. “Hi, it’s been a while” you got in. So far, so good. “Cheeky Nando’s ok for you?” he laughed, starting the car and diving directly into the London traffic. “More than ok. How’ve you been? How’s Jess?” Silence in Rufus’ presence never used to be awkward, but this time you dreaded any kind of those moments.  “Same as always. My dad told me” What the actual f-. “I’m sorry, Rufus. I never meant to do that. I don’t know what’s gotten over me I- “ Rufus scrunched his nose and a weird grimace was plastered on his face. “Uhm? You’re sorry for making a sick album that’s going to push my band right down further down the charts? Well, I accept your apology. But only because it’s you” he placed his hand on his heart to make the moment as dramatic as he could. This was the first time you felt like having a heart attack and dying on the spot. Your heart was beating so loud, you could feel the blood thumping in your fingertips and your cheeks were burning. He didn’t know.  “Anyway, I already know what I want to have for lunch” he smiled to himself, putting his tongue between his teeth. You couldn’t deny the resemblance between Roger and him. And it made the situation even harder for you, keeping this big secret from him. “I’ll have a beer and the peri peri chicken, please. (Y/N)? What are you having? This one is on me” “Just a water, please” you smiled to the waitress as she scribbled down the order. “nothing to eat?” Rufus asked. “I’m not that hungry” Rufus gave you a look, he knew that this was asign that something was wrong. You never turned food from Nando’s down. EVER. “You can order something and take it home with you for later” his blue eyes were soft, almost encouraging you.  He always looked after you, even when you were piss drunk on tour. Even if Rufus was drunk himself, he wasstill  the one that made sure you made it back safe to your room. Almost like a brother. And now you were fucking his dad. FUCK “Ok. Uh’ll have the... Caesar salad” “Chicken on top?” the waitress asked. “No thanks” she went off to serve the next costumers. “so tell me what’s on your mind. Has anything happened?” Rufus took a sip from his beer, making a little beard of foam appear above his mouth. “I don’t know. It’s... really complicated.” “We’ve been through so much weird shit together, I’m sure you can’t surprise or shock me anymore” hah if he only knew. You reached forward to play with the cutlery that was already placed on the table. “We’re friends. I can keep a secret.” His look was so sincere, you wanted to pour all your heart out and tell him every little thing. Maybe he would understand. Maybe he would laugh. But there was also a possibiity he would freak out and want nothing to do with you anymore. “So…?” he asked, breaking the silence. “I’ve been cheating on Josh” you said, carefully choosing your words.  “ohhh with who?” he leaned forward like a little girl, that’s about to find out the latest school gossip. The waitress brought the food, saving you from answering that question. Rufus was quick to dig into his chicken, while you didn’t even touch your salad. “You didn’t answer my question. I’m curious. Who is the guy? Do I know him?” he asked with his mouth full of chicken. You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Maybe dropping some hints would get him to figure it out by himself? Or he could be able to give you some advice? “ He’s much older than me.” “A sugar daddy?” “NO” it came out like a mixture of a squeal and scream. “alright, alright” he made a gesture for you to calm down. “ That’s the problem, Rufus. I really have feelings for him, but... he’s also married. But I can’t stop thinking about him. It’s the little gestures, you know. Every little thing he does…” you got lost in the sentence thinking about the night you spent with Roger. “ohhh I see... someone’s in looooove” he teased. “Really? That’s all you have to say?” “hey” he put his fork down. “ Sometimes you can’t change who you love. Of course, it’s bad that you both are cheating on your partners. You need get that sorted out. And so, does he if you want to continue this. It’s only fair to his wife and Josh. Or you need stop this affair, or whatever game you’re playing.” “ not a game! Definitely feelings, at least on my side. Coming clear sounds easier than it is.” You sighed, stirring the food on your plate, when a text made your phone vibrate. *From: Rog* “I miss you so much my love. Want to see you tonight.” You smiled at your phone. “is that him now?” you nodded, typing a quick reply: “miss you too, come over whenever you’re free 😊”  “ I’ve never been in your shoes before, but you know you can call me any time, right? I’ll try to help you out as much as I can. And I promise I won’t say a thing to Josh” “thank you, R- “ “BUT” he put his fork in the air. “I’m telling you again, you have to get this  triangle sorted out. He seems to make you quite happy, huh?” Rufus said, catching you read Roger’s text over again. “If you only knew, Ruf” you sighed. “Are you done?” the waitress asked, ready to collect the dishes. You both nodded. The drive home remained silent, except for some humming from Rufus. “Thank you, for lunch, you’re the best” you gave him quick hug. “No worries” he got into his car again, you watched him as he rolled his window down. “Also, thanks for listening and helping out, I really needed that” Rufus put his hand where the window would go up, his head peeked out of the window. “ I always try to help where I can” he smirked. “oh and by the way. I kn ow everything and  I told my dad the exact same thing” he winked, before leaving you behind in the parking lot. Dumbfounded. 

[enbyleighlines]

Prompts you say? *rubs hands with glee* XuanLi and "date night" (pre or post marraige/jin ling)?

Yeeeeeeeeeee a XuanLi prompt!!! I was so psyched to receive this, anonymous! I hope you enjoy this~

—

It’s February 19th, a Friday, and the night before Jin Zixuan’s twenty-fourth birthday. Tomorrow, they’ll have a more formal celebration. But on that particular evening, Jin Zixuan and his wife Jiang Yanli decide to take advantage of the opportunity to have a date night.

It’s the first date night they’ve had since Jin Ling’s birth, just a little under three months ago. Jin Zixuan is just a touch nervous. Though he and Jiang Yanli have been happily married for a while now, and were dating even before that, he feels an old insecurity rising from the depths of his subconscious.

In short, Jin Zixuan wants to prove himself worthy of his amazing wife.

They drop A-Ling off at Wei Wuxian and Wen Ning’s apartment. The two men are already well accustomed to babysitting two-year-old Wen Yuan, so choosing them as A-Ling’s caretakers for the night was a no-brainer. Still, it will be A-Ling’s first night without either of his parents. Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli take turns detailing all of A-Ling’s little quirks and habits, and his schedule for feeding. Even Jiang Yanli, who Jin Zixuan relies on to be the paradigm of calm and rational thought, seems to be just barely holding herself together.

It’s clear that they’re both just procrastinating, and soon Jiang Yanli’s big-mouthed Da-Didi is trying to usher them towards the door with an on-loop feedback of, “Yes, uh-huh, I understand, yes, okay, sure...”

Just as Jin Zixuan starts explaining how to change A-Ling’s diaper, Wei Wuxian seems to lose any lingering patience.

“Yes, thank you, I know how to change a diaper,” Wei Wuxian cuts Jin Zixuan off, laughing to ease the rude interruption, “A-Yuan here is still in pull-ups. So stop worrying, and go have fun.”

The toddler in question is at Wei Wuxian’s leg, eyes fixated on the fussing baby in his arms.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Jiang Yanli says. She takes a deep breath and visibly centers herself. “I didn’t mean to patronize you, A-Xian,” she adds, cupping his cheek, “I’m just...”

“This is your first night away from him, I know,” Wei Wuxian finishes, “But I’m going to take good care of him. I promise.”

At last, Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli have no excuses left to linger. They each give their son a couple more kisses each. He’s asleep, and doesn’t even stir at the touch of lips to his forehead.

Still, Jin Zixuan hesitates at the threshold.

Wei Wuxian takes A-Ling’s chubby little fist in his hand and makes him wave. “Bye bye,” Wei Wuxian says in a ridiculously high pitched voice, “Bye Boba, bye Mama.”

Jin Zixuan tries to snort, but he ends up smiling.

—

Even though it’s Jin Zixuan’s birthday celebration, he insists on going to Jiang Yanli’s favorite restaurant. After all, she’s the professional chef, even if she’s currently on maternity leave.

Her favorite restaurant is named after the lake it’s located beside. The outside tables sit on a large dock, right out on the water. They serve seafood, in the traditional Sichuan cuisine style. Most of their dishes have a fiery red broth, which Jin Zixuan still thinks is an affront to nature. How can a liquid burn like fire in the mouth? But Jiang Yanli loves her spice, so he keeps mum.

Unfortunately, since it’s winter, outside seating is not yet available. Luckily, Jin Zixuan had made reservations for one of the booth tables near the window. That way, they are still able to see the lake.

As per tradition, they order the hotpot to share, and admire the calm ripples of the water as they wait.

“It’s a good thing you made a reservation,” Jiang Yanli says after a moment of comfortable silence, “This place is super busy tonight.”

She’s not exaggerating. The waitresses aren’t running around like headless chickens, but they have that frenzied look on their faces that suggests that they are just seconds away from doing so. Jin Zixuan watches as yet another couple arrives, pushing their way through the crowd of people gathering by the front door.

“So much for this place being a hidden gem,” Jin Zixuan replies.

“It’s good that they’re finally getting the recognition they deserve, though.” That’s just like Jiang Yanli, always looking for the silver lining.

Jin Zixuan finds himself smiling. “You’re right,” he says, “Good for them.”

Jiang Yanli beams in return. But there’s a slight crack in it, that Jin Zixuan only recognizes because he’s grown to know her so intimately over the years.

He reaches out to take her hands in his. “Do you miss A-Ling already?”

The smile falls, and Jiang Yanli laughs, kind of bashfully. “Ah, am I being that obvious?” She asks.

Jin Zixuan shrugs. “No. I miss him, too.”

All the tension drains from Jiang Yanli’s shoulders, and her smile returns, smaller than before, but still sincere. “It’s silly, isn’t it? It’s only been, what, twenty minutes? I’ve taken longer baths than that before.”

“I don’t think it’s silly,” Jin Zixuan argues, “Or... are you calling me silly?” He raises an eyebrow, in what Jiang Yanli affectionately calls his ‘Dreamworks face.’

As he intended, Jiang Yanli bursts into delightful giggles. She covers her mouth with her wrist as she laughs, muffling the sound with her sleeve. When her gigglefest subsides, she says, “But you ARE silly, A-Xuan. But not for missing your son. Just in general.”

“Just in general?” Jin Zixuan snorts. “Well, that’s fine, then.”

The waitress brings their drinks. They’ve decided to share a bottle of champagne, of Jin Zixuan’s favorite’s brand. Jin Zixuan pours for both of them. He not so subtly shows off his pristine drink pouring etiquette, which his father’s rich friends once taught him.

Jiang Yanli awards him with soft applause, even though she’s seen his flaunt this skill many times before.

Jin Zixuan chuckles, kind of embarrassed but mostly flattered. It was the exact reaction he had been hoping for. “You’re adorable,” he tells her fondly.

They clink their glasses. “To turning twenty-four,” Jiang Yanli says, “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

“To returning to work,” Jin Zixuan returns.

They both take a sip. Jin Zixuan savors his with closed eyes and an after-swallow sigh. While it fizzles pleasantly down his throat, he turns his attention back to his wife. “How do you feel, going back to work on Monday?”

Jiang Yanli laughs forcibly, and turns her face. “It’ll be nice to go back,” she says vaguely.

“You can take more time off,” Jin Zixuan suggests, “if you don’t feel ready.” He pauses, and then adds, “But I think you should go back. It will take some time to adjust, but it’ll be good for you.“

Jiang Yanli watches him, looking torn.

“I’ll support you either way, obviously,” Jin Zixuan rushes to assure her, “I’ll always support whatever decision you make, A-Li. But I know how much you enjoy your work. You obviously miss it. You’ve been cooking more food than our fridge can hold.”

Jiang Yanli nods, and bites her lip. “You’re right,” she says, “But still... I’m not sure I’m ready to be away from A-Ling for a whole day.”

“I understand. That’s how I felt, too, when I had to go back to class.” Jin Zixuan leans forward and rubs his thumb over Jiang Yanli’s wrist, underneath her sleeve, right against her pulse. “I may not have looked like it, but secretly I was a mess.”

“Oh no, it wasn’t a secret,” Jiang Yanli teases, “You’re many great things, but you’re not subtle, darling.”

Jin Zixuan laughs. “Well, I tried to hide it,” he amends, “Anyway, I was a mess, but do you know what I learned? That stupid adage that mothers tell their children about ripping off bandaids is true. The quicker you pull it off, the less painful it is. And you’re strong, A-Li. I think you’ll be surprised with how quickly you adjust.”

“I don’t feel strong,” Jiang Yanli says with a sigh, “I feel fragile.” She moves her hand to curl their fingers together.

Jin Zixuan squeezes her fingers. “You’re not,” he promises, “You’re the strongest person I know. But if you think you need another week, or two, I doubt your boss will hold it against you.” That last part is a joke, since Jiang Yanli’s boss is Jiang Fengmian, her father.

Jiang Yanli giggles again. “No, I don’t think he will,” she agrees. Then her mood shifts again, and her jaw sets in steely determination. “But you’re right,” she says, “I miss work.”

Her tone implies that she’s made up her mind. Jin Zixuan encourages her by swiping his thumb across her palm.

“I’ll go back on Monday,” Jiang Yanli declares aloud.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Jin Zixuan says, and pulls her hand to his lips for a kiss. “I can’t wait to hear about all of the hot gossip you’ve missed.”

When Jiang Yanli laughs this time, it shakes her body.

Jiang Yanli works with a lot of chatty women, most of them suburban soccer moms. Along with Yu Ziyuan, they like to spend their shifts swapping updates on whatever drama is going on in their neighborhoods. Jiang Yanli has made it a habit to share the juiciest tidbits with Jin Zixuan when she gets home. Usually she does this while they share wine, as a tribute to their gossipy mothers, who used to do the same thing when they were children. It started out as a joke, after Jiang Yanli found out about Jin Zixuan’s secret love of reality TV shows, but over time, it’s evolved into activity both of them enjoy.

“True,” Jiang Yanli says once she’s gotten ahold of herself, “I’ve been dying to know if Zhang Li ever got her grandmother’s armoire back from her ex.”

“If she hasn’t, let her know I’ll go to her ex’s place to pick it up,” Jin Zixuan informs her, “It’s ridiculous, letting him keep it that long. What if he tries to sell it? From what you’ve told me, her ex sounds like the kind of shameless man who would do something like that.”

Jiang Yanli nods sagely. “I’ll let her know. She’ll probably decline, but she’ll appreciate the offer nonetheless.”

“Yeah, Zhang Li is quite proud, isn’t she?” Jin Zixuan sighs. He’s met her — and Jiang Yanli’s other co-workers — a few times through parties and work events. They’re quite a bit of fun, for suburban soccer moms.

“Almost as prideful as you,” Jiang Yanli agrees with a playful smile.

Jin Zixuan gives a fake affronted noise. “I’ve gotten better,” he protests, half joking and half sincere.

“You have,” Jiang Yanli agrees easily. She strokes his cheek, letting the tips of her fingers trace the outline of his jaw. “But you also have a lot to be proud of. So I don’t blame you for it.”

Jin Zixuan can’t help himself; he feels himself puff up like a presenting peacock. He loves the way she looks at him like that, like he’s the center of her universe.

If Jiang Cheng and/or Wei Wuxian were here, they’d surely tease him for posturing. They still like to call him “peacock”, though it’s said with far less venom in their voice than before Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli got together. But Jin Zixuan doesn’t much care. His wife is right: he DOES have a lot to be proud of.

Jin Zixuan has an amazing wife, for starters. He has a vibrant baby boy, who is already developing a strong personality. He’s at the top of all of his classes at law school, since he’s actually putting some effort into his education for once in his life. He even has a plan for after graduation. His Da-didi, A-Yao, and him are going to inherit the Jin Brothers & Associates law firm from their father and uncle. Except, instead of catering to businesses, they’ll transform it into one that helps people. They want to use their law degrees to protect women. It’ll be their way of giving back, after all the women their father has hurt over the years.

So, yeah. Jin Zixuan IS allowed to be proud.

“You should proud, too,” Jin Zixuan tells his wife, his A-Li, “I meant it when I said you were the strongest person I know. If I have anything to be proud of, it’s because I’ve had you with me, supporting me.”

“Aww, sweetheart.” Jiang Yanli blushes deeply, and looks to her lap. She still gets timid whenever he tries to flirt with her, like she reverts back into the schoolgirl who had a mad crush on him through all of elementary, middle, and high school.

But he’s not trying to flirt with her or flatter her right now. So Jin Zixuan insists, “It’s true. I love you. I love you so much.”

That makes Jiang Yanli look back up. She’s much more familiar with this side of him, the side that speaks seriously, even when discussing mundane topics.

She melts, as if his gaze is warming her like sunshine. “I love you, too,” she says.

[mycandylavynder]

Valentine’s Day: Prologue

“This is insanity.” I scream at Chani as we enter the grand foyer of an old Victorian Gothic estate. The sight is overwhelming. Between the pounding music, the intricately crafted double staircase and dazzling glass chandelier, the astonishing size of the estate, the twisted Valentine’s Day art and decor, and the sheer amount of people, I have no clue where to look. My senses can’t rest. People are littered everywhere, their bodies wiggling just beyond the sight-line of the stairs in the flash of strobing red lights.  

Chani and I push forward, as there is really no where else to go. The staircases are roped off and a suited buff guy is posted at each side checking names off a list before allowing anyone to pass. I am quickly understanding why the cover fee is $30 bucks. My eardrums are throbbing from the thump of the base blasting out of the speakers. I look over at Chani who stopped moving to admire a portrait of a red haired woman in a white dress with bloodied heart eyes. I gently grab her arm and lean in toward her ear. “What kind of party is this?”

Chani raises her pinkish-white brows and replies, “I have no clue, but the architecture in this house is stunning. And I am really loving the theme of the art so far.”

“Me too, actually. I thought the cupid piercing a burning guy in the heart outside was a great metaphor for my love life.”

Chani smiles and says, “I heard there was a gallery room open on the main floor, shall we try to find it?”

“Yes, please! I think I want to hold off on losing my hearing for a little while longer.”

The two of us enter the chaos, pushing our way through the crowd until we reach the far right of the massive living-room-turned-club. Chani opens the french door and I squeeze through it behind her. We are in a hallway with golden floral wallpaper and exquisitely crafted wooden borders trimming the ceiling and floor. More bizarre Valentine art is dressing the space and, to our relief, there are signs posted directing us where to go. With our heels clicking against the marble, we follow the arrow pointing toward the gallery still awestruck at the size of the residence.

We pass through a large archway of red, pink, and white balloons into a large gallery room filled with more unique and over-the-top art. We stop to scan the room. The atmosphere is leagues calmer than the makeshift club and less crowded. There is a lot more breathing room and I’ll be able to talk to Chani without screaming in her ears. A cash bar is set up in front of a ceiling-to-floor window at the far end of the room and a bartender in a black bow-tie is stirring up a drink. Beside the bar is a long white table where two waiters are attending to the array of appetizing hors d’oeuvres and decorative sweets. I scan the faces of party-goers and am very pleased when my eyes fall on a head of blue hair. “Oh, look, there’s Alexy and Morgan.” I say to Chani as I gently pull her along.

They seem to be discussing an oil painting of two men resting by a tree in a field when we approach them. “Hey Candy and Chani. I’m glad you’re both here! Maybe you can settle this for us. What color do you think that is, a greenish-brown or a bluish-brown?”

Chani and I lean in a little closer. Chani answers almost immediately, “Bluish. Those are definitely blue undertones.”

“Yeah, I’m going to agree with Chani. They definitely mixed blue in to get that color.”

Morgan flashes a victorious smirk as Alexy pouts. “I was so sure that was green,” he whines.

“No, big deal. You were right about the last painting.” Morgan soothes as he tenderly rubs his shoulder.

“So what are you two up to? I’m loving the dresses.” Alexy asks.

“Thank you,” I say giving a small curtsy.

Chani and I do look adorable tonight, but especially Chani. She is wearing a black halter top dress with black off the shoulder ruffle sleeves and a mesh crescent moon shaped peep hole on her chest. The dress is above-the-knee in length. And she is sporting black knee-highs with white stars and black boots.

As for me, I found the prefect little red number from Leigh’s shop. My cocktail dress cinches in at my waist and flares loosely at the bottom. The red slip underneath is a basic spaghetti strap and a floral lacy design flows as the top layer. The lace rests over my chest and covers to my elbow, teasing at my skin underneath. The lace falls below my waist line as well, flowing modestly past the hemline of the slip. I am wearing sheer flesh color stockings and red heels with a bow on the side of the ankle straps. I also brought a black heart shaped purse on a gold chain that match my black heart shaped earrings perfectly. 

“And we just got here so we aren’t up to much. Have you been here long?” I add in reply to Alexy’s question.

“Maybe a half hour or so. We’re still waiting on Hyun to come. But this place is insane, isn’t it? I heard the girl who threw this party belongs to some billionaire family.”  Says Alexy.

��That’s a given. This place is too HUGE to not belong to a billionaire. Not to mention the money it must cost to maintain the architecture must be ridiculous.” Chani chimes.

“Yeah, I wonder who threw the party anyway. It didn’t say on the flyers they put up at school.” I say.

“I’m not sure. I just heard people talk about a ‘her’ and how ‘her’ parties are absolutely the best and that its been forever since she threw one.” Alexy replies.

I shrug. “Well either way, I’m glad you all are here. It’s nice not being alone on Valentine’s Day.”

“You can say that again.” I hear a familiar voice chime as she appears beside Chani.

“Priya!” We all cry happily.

“Hey guys. How’s it going?” She asks before sipping a drink. She looks stunning in white frill waisted palazzo pants with a belt tied in a loose bow and a red v-neck crop top with flaring sleeves. She is wearing red pointed slides with a modest heel. Her hair is pulled back into a high ponytail and she is glowing with energy.

“Good. We were all just speculating about who the mystery hostess is.” Alexy says.

“I think Amber might know her. Amber was the one who told me about this party,” answers Priya.

“Oh, really? What did she say?” I ask.

“Just that her friend owns a huge mansion just outside of town and she’s throwing a party and I should come.”

“Did you come with Amber then?”

“No, I just told her I’d meet up with her when I got here. I just finished texting her when I saw you guys.” Priya says taking another sip.

It seems like the entire campus is going to be here, maybe even the whole town. I mean if Amber is here, Nath might be here too. Or maybe she will come with Castiel since they went to the Gala together. Either way, I’m not too sure if I am ready to see either of them after all that drama they caused at the Gala. Alexy said Hyun was going to be here. As for Rayan, I doubt he’ll be here. After the rumors from the beach party, I am sure he wants to avoid another round of gossiping students and probing questions from the Director.

After thinking about that...I wonder how tonight will play out and who will turn up?

(Love Interests coming soon)

Castiel

Hyun

Nathaniel

Priya

Rayan

[imagination-is-key-in-my-world]

Everything Has Changed (1/3)

Summary : You are Jace's little sister. You recently moved to the institute following your perfect record in Idris. Izzy is ecstatic to have you back, but Alec gives you the cold shoulder.

Warning : Possible inappropriate language

Pairing : Alec Lightwood x Reader

Word Count : 2,431

“You don't have to baby me Jace!” You say slapping his hand away for the fourth time since he picked you up from Idris. “I can carry my own bags. I do not need my big brother to do everything for me.” Jace sighed as he considered taking it from you anyway. He only stopped himself when he caught you rolling your eyes at him. “Y/N, I am just trying to be nice.” Jace stepped in front of you cutting you off. Rolling your eyes a second time, “Come on! I haven't seen my little sister in ages and I just wanna look out for my little girl.”

His hand raised to your head as he ruffled up your once neat parting. Setting your whole look off balanced, and basically giving you the appearance of a girl who had been dragged through a thorn bush backwards. But even though Jace was doing everything that he could to annoy you, you knew that he came from a good place. You hate to admit it but you missed him too. Not only him but you also missed your best friend Isabelle. Izzy would come and visit you whenever she had to go to Idris to see her family. Giving you the low down on everything that had gone on from missions to just general gossip. You almost laughed when Izzy had told you that Jace was deadly jealous of Simon who so happened to be a vampire. All of this because of a girl called Clary. Jace had shown you a picture of her and you had to admit that you could see why he was smitten, she was absolutely gorgeous with a capital G. You actually felt sorry for Jace because you knew what it was like to have a crush on someone that you knew you could not have. “Well hello there stranger!” Within seconds of walking through the doors you found yourself crashing to the floor sending one of your bags that you were carrying to fall right onto Jace's foot. Izzy apologized as she stood up, helping you to your feet as she was at it. You smoothed down your already messy hair do and stared at her confused. “Do I know you?” Izzy's smile instantly faded. A look of pure horror crashed onto her face as she considered the thought of her best friend not remembering who she was. That was when you burst out laughing, causing the corners of Izzy's mouth to lift into a weak smile. “You are not allowed to do that. You had me worried!” She slapped your arm and slowly her smile increased to a full belly laugh. “I'm sorry Izzy you are just too easy. Come here!” Both of you hugged each other tight after being apart for so long. You scanned the rest of the room, spotting people that you could faintly remember as well as those that you considered family. There were some that you just couldn't put their face to a name, obviously new. But there was one person that you could see through the crowd, walking in the opposite direction, and fading into the distance. You could remember that dark wild hair anywhere. Alec. __

A week has passed and you had developed new relationships with the other Shadowhunters. Clary was an alright chick. Although you did find it hard to like her because of her behaviour with Jace. Jace had told you that things were odd between them. They were close but awkwardly close. She was still with Simon who is now a close friend of yours. Both of you spent a whole night talking about Star Wars and Lord of the Rings. Comparing theories and reciting scenes together. Simon was just the nerdy friend that you were lacking while you were away in Idris. Jace was always thankful that he was able to pry Clary away from Simon while he was distracted by you. He even joked about you and Simon becoming the new power couple because of how similar you both were. Every time he would say this you would smack him in the back of the head and tell him to get his mind out of the gutter. Just because he wanted to drive a wedge between the two, allowing him to swoop in and comfort Clary, doesn't mean he can exploit his sister.

Simon and you were talking in the training room after spending some time sparring. When Clary and you got closer, she asked you whether you would mind helping to train Simon, knowing that you were one of the best in the institute. But also aware that not many of the other Shadowhunters were willing enough to work with a Vampire. “So what is it with you and Jace?” you asked as you through him a bottle of water from the table. With his fast reflexes he was able to retrieve the bottle before it made an impact onto his head. “Nice.” “What do you mean Y/N?” His head tilted to the side the way that a dog would. You had to admit, it always made you smile when he did that and he knew. “Jace is Jace and I am just me.” You snorted a little at his response making him hold his hands up and change his answer, “fine, you got me. Very wise you are. No wonder we get along.” He scratched at the back of his head while searching for the right thing to say. “Well Clary and Jace have always been close and had that tension...” “Tension?” Your eyebrows furrowed. “Yeah sexual tension.” He stood up and approached you. You were leaning against the table that was at the far side of the room, watching him as he talked and advanced towards you. “So basically they want each other. But not as partners or friends, but more.” Using his fingers to air quote the word 'want.' Your hand lifted to the top of his arm as you looked deep into your friends hurt eyes. “Simon, if you know all of this. Why do you stay with Clary?” He moved away, turning his back to you as he brought a hand to his head. “It's not that simple Y/N.” He paused, “I love her. I have loved her since I was old enough to know what love is. Maybe even before that. So you see, I cant let Jace get in the way. If I want this to work, then I have to make it work.” Before you could stop yourself you pulled him into a hug. You weren't quite his height so your head was flat against his chest. After a few seconds, his chin rested on the top of your head, wrapping his own arms around you. You weren't the type of person who would show weakness like this. Where you would show that you cared as much as you did, especially when your line of work is as dangerous as it was. There were only a select few that you would allow yourself to be yourself around. To truly care about. It was hard for you to let new people in, but Simon would be an exception. You just couldn't stand seeing him this hurt. Especially because you knew far too well how it felt. Your hug as well as your thoughts were interrupted by a loud cough. Pulling away startled, you looked to your right and noticed Alec with his arms crossed staring at you disapprovingly. You had not seen Alec since the day you had got back. Even then all you saw was him look over his shoulder as he walked away, locking eyes with you for what felt like an eternity, but in actual fact it was a split second. “If you're done 'hugging.' Some of us need to train.” With that he moved over to start the simulator, bow at the ready. This was your queue to leave. __

Another week had passed since the training room drama. The person who said that time heals all wounds, was the most brain dead person on the planet. You couldn't help but feel like shit the past week. Thinking about how Alec and you had been so close for years. But the minute you were back he saw you as nothing more than the Downworlders that he used to despise. You had no one that you could talk to about this. Jace was his best friend, nothing good would come from telling your brother that his best friend was ignoring his sister. You knew Jace all too well. Hearing something like this would make him want to confront Alec, regardless of who overheard or got hurt in the meantime. Izzy was Izzy, she was all for the romance. But something told you that her innuendo and sexual nature would not stretch to her own brother. She was great to talk to about relationships, but probably not this particular one. You couldn't even consider telling Simon any of this. Not now that he has his own shit to deal with. Why wasn't life fucking simple.

You were sat in the large communal kitchen, stirring your spoon around in your already soggy cereal. You were never fond of cereal once it had gone past that 'too' wet point, slipping into the mushy. Your mind on other things, causing your cereal to become gross and putting you off eating it. For it to only become something for you to play with. “You know mum hated it when you did that!” Jace walked in, obviously meaning Maryse your adopted mother since your real parents perished. Having Maryse as your mother made things a hell of a lot harder for you. “What's on your mind little one? You only play with your food when your mind is somewhere else.” “It's nothing Jace.” You pick up your bowl, only to have it snatched back. “Jace!” “What?” He said with a mouthful of soggy cereal, “no point in letting good food go to waste.” You scoffed and walked out of the room, leaving Jace behind with the rest of your breakfast. Looking at the rota, you knew that in ten minutes it would be your slot in the training room. Running back to your room so that you could change from your pjs into your training gear. __

Half an hour later you were in the middle of training. Hair plastered to your sweaty face, unattractive and an inconvenience. There were not many people who could use a bow apart from you and Alec. When you were younger, you and Alec would practice together in the simulator. Having each others back. If it wasn't for him being closer to Jace, it is possible that you and him would have become parabati. Alec always laughed when you would miss the target. But not in a mean way to make you feel like shit. But in a way that would push you to try better, to work harder for his approval. While you were shooting the targets after your extensive sparring battle with the fight simulator. Your mind went back to the memories of you two..

** Alec was shooting at the archery targets that you had both set up in the training room. Each arrow flew and hit the target dead in the centre perfectly. He would laugh every time that he managed to land a perfect arrow on the target. While you fumbled trying to get the arrow to reach the board. “Another point for me! Any one would think you're distracted.” Your head fell to the floor to look at your toes. “Don't be stupid Alec! You're just not playing fair.” “How am I not playing fair?” He snapped turning around to look you dead in the eye. You were 14 at the time, Alec was 16. “Because you put me under too much pressure to be like you. I am not you.” You walked over to grab an arrow from the table. Lined up the target with your eye but hesitated. While you were trying to focus on the target, your were interrupted as you felt hands ever so gently placed on your waist holding you steady. “Y/N focus. You shake when you are trying to focus. Focus on not shaking more than hitting the target. Breath and let go.” His head was right next to your ear whispering to you. You could feel his warm breath on your neck. It was hard to focus when you knees felt that wobbly. You let out a sharp breath and the arrow flew landing right next to Alec's in the board.  You could feel him smile without having to look at him. “The student has become the master.” You spun around with a big grin on your face. His hands fell from your waist and held onto your hands. “I knew you could do it. But I cant stand behind you every time we are in battle mind.” You laughed and fell into his chest. “Thank you Alec. You make me a better me. I hope I always have you around to keep me safe.” “We will always stick together. You and me, that's the truth. Forever and always.” “Forever and always!” You repeated as you nuzzled into his chest. **

“Are you gonna shoot, or what?” It was Alec who shook you out of your daydream about Alec. You released the arrow and sure enough you missed the target. You hadn't missed that bad since you were younger. “I am gonna go with or what” Alec snickered and walked out of the room. “What is your problem Alec?” You yell. Your eyes were glued to the doorway where he was just stood. All of a sudden he reappeared, arms crossed in his usual stance. “I have no idea what you are on about. But clearly you have forgotten everything that I taught you.” “Shut it Alec.” You turned back to the target quickly and shot an arrow landing right in the centre of the board. “I know what I am doing.” He turned and tried to walk away for a second time, but you weren't done. “You have been avoiding me since I got back. Why?” “Just drop it. Things have changed,” he paused, “people have changed. So just drop it.” By the time he finished what he was saying he was back through the door. Leaving you alone, again.

Part 2

[hollygopossumlovesj2]

Come Back Down, Part 21

Title: Come Back Down, Part 21

Warning/Rating: NC-17; For graphic smut, hand job (male receiving), cussing, description of mental illness.

Word Count: 4,879

Summary: Recovery is not easy for Jensen. It involves sitting still and ‘resting’ which pretty much adds up to anxiety and feelings of failure. Depression weighs heavily on him as he contemplates the past month.

A/N: Thank you, @tas898, for reading through this and reassuring me that it wasn’t complete crap! Also for pushing me to post the damn thing. I super appreciate your support, Twinsie!

Hollygopossum’s Master List ~ If you’d like to read more of my work, click this link 

Come Back Down Master List ~ Just incase you’d like to catch up, click this link here!

Cbd21

I’d been home for about 2 weeks now and had barely even left this room. Despite being drugged up to the gills for most of it, I was starting to lose patience with everyone. Mom had, of course, been insufferable and over attentive which was both annoying and guilt inducing. I knew there were preparations for her favorite holiday to be done but she was too busy checking on me every thirty minutes. Which, was an improvement because up until a couple of days ago, it had been every five.

It was a crazy concept to me, when I thought about it, but Christmas was only less than a week away. The two weeks I’d spent in hospital had seemed to drag on and on, but it turned out that hospital time goes a lot slower than real time.

The time I spent hospitalized was anxiety inducing, especially with my parents and their superpower of smothering the fuck out of me. My family had come to an agreement of a different schedule when I finally lost it enough to need more iv Ativan.

They were only allowed to come in one person at a time. My parents traded of the morning and afternoon shift. Josh, Mackenzie and Jared had each come to visit and take a ‘shift’ that I found unnecessary since I had a very attentive nurse. She came quickly when I had to break down and push the button but she hadn’t tried to make small talk. She was there to get down to business.

Then there was Y/N. She mainly took the night shift, after my parents and I had put our foot down that she needed a shower and at least 5 hours of sleep that she wouldn’t get if she stayed glued to my side 24/7. Selfishly I wanted her to stay with me and scare off my parents with her haunted eyes. But, she truthfully hadn’t recovered from me scaring the ever loving fuck out of her and she needed sleep and food.

So now, even though I was feeling pouty and ready to hunchback my healing ass out of this room and to the nearest bar, I stifled it. Earlier in the week, I’d half heartedly tried to convince her to go home to Wyoming. I told her she didn’t have to stay to take care of me when she had so many things to do at home. The argument was pointless, like arguing with an especially grumpy mule. I tried to let the guilt bog me down. I tried to convince myself that I was not just uselessly just putting her life on hold, and many of the cast and crew were ‘home on break’ until we had a full cast to work with.

So much guilt. Forever with the guilt.  

Unfortunately for me, she was also extremely perceptive. She always had been, and she knew with just one look that I wasn’t handling the bed surfing part of my recovery well. If I were honest with myself, I would admit that the appendectomy had scared the fuck out of me too. But, it seemed wrong to voice that when everyone else had been terrified too. I was damn relieved that she hadn’t listened when I told her that she should go home.

She knew from experience how much of a pain in the ass I could be when I wasn’t feeling well. And, like I’d said before, we’d been there for each other through a large variety of situations. Like, the time I’d gotten mono from making out with Anna McDowell the summer before senior year.

Y/N had been the only person home because she was visiting over her break. Dad was off filming a part in some sitcom that filmed in Vancouver. After I had assured Mom that Y/N and I could behave and would be fine alone, she had reluctantly gone with him.

My throat had been brutally sore and I’d felt weighed down like I could sleep for days at a time. I’ll just say that mono had made the bad cold I’d had back in Cheyenne look like the sniffles. She made sure I drank plenty of fluids and took my medication. She would even bring me popsicles if I didn’t bitch too much. I know I definitely tested Y/N’s patience that first week of summer. It was one of the many times that solidified the position she held in my life as my favorite person.

Now, things were a little different. We weren’t just two teenagers trying to get by anymore. She never gave me any inclination that she ever planned to run like hell. I’d tried to get used to the very real possibility that dealing with all of this was just too much for me to ask. How could such a friend stay in my life for so long? Especially when they were picking up pictures of her and putting them in the gossip magazines?

My life was already spilling over into hers and I hadn’t made anything official. I’d gotten comfortable with what we had, but now I had to consider the possibility that she wouldn’t want the kind of life that was constantly being observed underneath a microscope. Not that I could completely begrudge Danneel for going off the deep end, but I knew I was going to get some backlash for that. That meant that Y/N might get backlash, too. Some of my fans had tagged her as the ‘other woman’ years ago before I’d wizened up.

My sad effort to keep these worries and some others under wraps and my problem alone had failed. She’d tried to cheer me up by offering me my favorite foods or letting me watch whatever I wanted, but the truth was that I was going fucking stir crazy. I didn’t want to sit still so that my abdominal internal sutures could heal properly like the outside sutures were headed to a lot quicker than I had thought. To be honest, it was getting a little itchy which just added to my discontent.

To be fair, I recognized that it was my own damn fault that I’d landed in this situation. If I hadn’t been such a hard headed dipshit, I’d be back on set by now.

On top of that, I couldn’t help but think about Danneel and the fake pregnancy. I still hadn’t been able to give her what she wanted. It still stung more than I was prepared for, even though we weren’t together anymore. Our divorce had caused her to suffer a psychological break, or so her brother had informed me in a very angry, violent conversation over the phone right after I’d been released to go home.

I’d spoken to Danneel’s mother yesterday and she’d informed me that Danneel was receiving treatment closer to her home town in Louisiana in a much nicer, if a little bit professional tone. The doctors there thought the break was due to the imbalance of hormones in her system caused by the fertility treatments she had been having. Oh, and stress. For some reason, Danneel’s mother took pity on me. She mentioned that even though stress didn’t help the situation, it had played a very small part in comparison to the fertility treatments and her unsuccessful attempts at conceiving a baby.

I still couldn’t quite let myself off of the hook, even having been pardoned by her mother. As soon as I was healed enough to drive, I planned on making time to visit with Mrs. Graul and maybe even Danneel if she was ready to have visitors. I knew all too well that the divorce was solid this time, but I still couldn’t shake the feeling of being responsible for pushing Danneel closer to the deep end. She might have meant to harm me, but I would’ve never wished her any real pain.

Y/N was still furious with Danneel who had confessed to running her off the road and into the ravine. A dark, unpopulated ravine that she’d been at the bottom of for nearly a week. Add on top of that the vandalism of her barn, and Y/N had every reason to press every charge possible, but she’d dropped them when she found out that Danneel wasn’t mentally well. She’d told me right before bed the night before that she didn’t want to make a bad situation worse. Plus, it was kind of hard to point fingers at someone who’d had such a hard time adjusting that they had a meltdown.

Once the media got a hold of the story, some negative Tweets and articles had already been released. Some of the Supernatural fandom were not very happy with me. They blamed me for Danneel’s mental break, and I couldn’t say I blamed them. The suits at the CW said not to worry, that the negative press would settle soon. They’d even tacked on that my drama had actually benefited the show being renewed. Bad attention, is still attention. Ugh! I felt used, but at least the crew would still have a job the longer they stayed on tv.

I sighed, feeling the tension building back up in my chest. It had only been momentarily alleviated by Y/N’s earlier animated conversation about how beautiful our hometown was. As she’d leaned into my shoulder, and nowhere else because I was a fucking china doll, she’d reminisced in a way that didn’t completely depress her. It was new, this lighter side of her talking about childhood hang outs and memories of us as high schoolers.

No matter how many times she returned to Dallas, and even though my parents had moved to a new house a few years before, the first couple of days always hit her like a sledgehammer. Especially if she tries to talk about her family. Now though, she seemed relaxed and happy to be here. She’d come back upstairs a couple of times ready to discuss a conversation that she’d had with my parents. There were little tidbits of information that she’d never known about her mom until my Mom had shared with her.

Maybe I’d be able to summon the inner strength to ask her what had changed.

She had disappeared about an hour ago and the book I was trying to read wasn’t holding my attention for longer than 5 minute increments.

Ever since I’d arrived home I’d been battling the nervous, possibly manic energy that was buzzing beneath my skin the longer I was forced to sit still. There were so many things that needed to be done for the show and I’d had to fight with both my Mom and Y/N so that I could leave to do voice work next week. They’d eventually given in when I told them that it was going to be done locally and for short amounts at a time. Even being able to do voice work in the very near future didn’t really quell it.

The crew had made changes as soon as they knew my recovery would be extended. They had left me out of several scenes and used my stunt guy to fill in where they couldn’t. I hated the strain this put on my friends.

Singer had tried to comfort me with the fact that it was only a couple of episodes and then they would break for Christmas. I wasn’t comforted. I hated anything that would possibly take away from the shows full potential and the family that was there.

You’d think the nervous energy would be completely cancelled out by the depressive episode of gargantuan proportions. It was obvious with my unwillingness to get out of bed or eat or to bathe myself with anything more complicated than a baby wipe down. I could actually feel myself sinking deeper and deeper, even with taking my antidepressant regularly. I could recognize it but I couldn’t do anything about it without feeling overwhelmed and defeated.

I had been at the end of my rope a few nights ago and finally caved. I told Y/N a shortened version of what was going on with me, omitting my worries about her because I didn’t want to give her more things to worry about. She had listened patiently but she hadn’t tried to soothe me with putting her hands on my face or giving me a look of pity.

She chose a scientific explanation that put me at ease faster than a generic, ‘I’m sorry, baby.’ She’d simply explained that sometimes anesthesia and the sedatives would mix up the normal balance of brain chemicals. That I should just try to take it easy until they balanced themselves out, but I didn’t know just how much more I could take.

Bored by the book I was trying to read and filled to the brim with hopelessness, I fell asleep. Sleeping was my only escape. It was the only way I could stop the voices in my head telling me how much I’d fucked up. That I was letting everyone that I’d ever cared about down.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^

I wasn’t sure how long I’d been asleep the next time I woke up, but it was a pleasant wake up. Y/N face was leaning down so that she was eye level, a private smile on her face and a little blush on her cheeks. It looked like maybe she had been able to be outside for a little while and gotten some sun on her face.

“Hey.” She whispered like speaking too loud would disturb the room. As I slowly became more conscious, I noted that she’d opened the blinds to let some sun it. It glowed brightly against the beige carpet in the room, reflecting an ethereal glow on her face.

“Hey.” I croaked, lifting a hand to push the hair hanging in her face behind her ear. She leaned down a little further to kiss my nose and then my lips, bringing a small smile out.

“I’ve run a bath for you.”

And… the moment was gone. “A bath?” A bath required energy. A bath meant I’d need help getting in and out. A bath sounded terrible.

“Yeah.” She sat down on the edge of the bed, probably seeing my face fall. “I’ll do all the work. All you have to do is stay awake.”

“I don’t want you to do all the work.” I grumped, groaning quite dramatically as I sat up. “I don’t want you to have to do anything.”

“Would you rather your Mom helped?” Dirty. She played dirty. She deduced the answer by the appalled twist to my expression. “Maybe we could have a little fun.”

I lifted an eye brow in question, wondering if Y/N had lost her mind while I’d been sleeping. It was a tiny bit enticing but absolutely not while my parents were still in the house. That would just be weird. Plus, I wasn’t exactly in shape to be doing acrobatics in the garden tub.

“Your parents are gone shopping for some last minute Christmas things. They’ll probably be gone…” She checked the phone she’d been carrying in her right hand. “For the next two hours.”

And, there went most of my excuses.

I didn’t cave one bit, my face a study in extreme grumpiness, as she walked close beside me while I hobbled into the upstairs bathroom. Even as I saw the bath tub full of bubbles and surrounded by a couple of candles that had to be left over from Mackenzie, I remained against this whole thing. It was one thing for me to help her shower all last summer. It was completely another for her to do the same.

I loved her and I wanted to be her safety and her security. I couldn’t very well do that while she was washing my ass for me.

To Y/N’s credit, she never lost the smile on her face or the genuine care she put into getting me into the tub. Which, if I were in the mood to be honest, it wasn’t as complicated as I’d thought it would be. It didn’t even hurt as much as I thought it would, but I still would’ve preferred some damn baby wipes or a sink bath to this. I could already be napping again by now. I was already a little breathless from the ten feet I’d just crossed to get to the bathroom.

A thought occurred to me as I got lost watching her take her clothes off, neatly folding them up on the counter next to what I assumed were my clean clothes. (Because I hadn’t even thought about grabbing any) But, maybe she was pushing this bath because she was tired of sleeping next to someone that (maybe, possibly) didn’t smell too fresh. The reasons didn’t even really matter that much. I was in the tub now. Might as well be fucking clean.

“Sit up a little.” She helped by pushing my shoulders forward and then slipped in behind me, her legs spread wide to frame mine. “Okay, now lean back.” I carefully leaned back and despite my issue with being the little spoon, I had to admit that it felt good. I closed my eyes and breathed deep, the water gently lapping around us and her arms encircled around my chest so I wouldn’t slide down.

This was nice and quiet, the firm hold around my chest chased a bit of the crazy anxious feeling away. Y/N knew exactly what I was doing and the possibility of her not knowing hadn’t crossed my mind besides being a grumpy asshole.

I didn’t even have to move when she began soaping my hair with shampoo, using a cup to wet my hair and then rinse it. I begrudgingly had to admit, if only to myself, that having my hair washed felt fucking fantastic. I relaxed further, humming as I let my full weight lean against her, as she massaged my scalp with firm fingers.

Her chuckle vibrated against my back, making a relaxed smile slowly spread on my lips. “You and your hair.”

I cocked an eyebrow even though she couldn’t see it, “What do you mean, ‘you and your hair?’” My voice grumbled an octave or two deeper because I was on the cusp of falling asleep.

“All anyone has to do to wipe that grumpy look on your face is put their fingers in your hair. I’m not sure you can have your hair cut in public with the noises that you make. You might get arrested for being indecent.”

“What?” I tensed up a little, only because what she was describing wasn’t very manly at all. I couldn’t help the character traits that I held to so rigidly. “I do fine in public thank you very much.” I had evolved since I’d grown up in Texas and made sure to never extend anything but support, especially to those that chose to challenge the world’s expectations and dared to be exactly who they were. I admired their strength, but I was still stuck living by my Dad’s southern expectations and it was a lot easier to be understanding of someone else than it was to be understanding of myself.

“Shhh…” Her fingers slid down to dig deeply into my intensely tight neck muscles after she’d rinsed my hair thoroughly. I instantly forgot what I was ruffled about. “I didn’t mean to get your hackles up, Ackles. You’re still a big tough guy if that’s what you want to be.”

She got a grunt in response, mostly because I didn’t want to get into another discussion about how I hold myself to too many rigid self-expectations. Oh yes, she had made her point several times, but I just couldn’t stop. The anxiety that I’d been trying to fight since childhood always managed to make me fixate on my flaws. All through Days of Our Lives and Dark Angel, I would spend hours rehearsing and trying to have my line delivery perfect. When I would lay down at night, all the times I’d failed would keep me from sleeping well, including the time I’d failed to get a big part in the kindergarten play. I took a big breath and let it go, relaxing back into her warm, soft body.

I let myself drift in and out of consciousness, letting her hands wash away all the eck that had built up while I was laid up. Y/N had clipped her nails short so that she could massage my skin as she washed everywhere thoroughly, pushing the painful toxins and leaving me basically a pile of jelly. Damn it felt good. She cleared her throat, a tell that she had something important to say, and I braced myself for what would come next.

“You can’t do this to me again, okay?” She began to whisper, her warm breath and lips tickling the back of my neck and setting off goosebumps as she swiped the wash cloth over my healing incision. I hummed in answer, trying to maintain this relaxed state for as long as possible, but let her know I was listening. “You get a free pass for this one, but anything after this, there will be consequences.” I grunted, unable to conjure up enough energy to form words. “I won’t be able to handle it again, Jay. I never wanted to be close to anyone after my parents. But then, there you were. I will never be able to survive a day without you alive on this Earth somewhere, and that terrifies me.”

The sound of her sniffling brought me back to Earth, her words processing clearly. I laid my head back, held up by her shoulder as I searched blindly for her lips. My eyes were still closed as I instinctively found them. I was afraid if I opened my eyes that she would see the fear in mine as well. Not because of her threat of retribution and consequences, but the horrifying thought that if something happened to me she wouldn’t survive.

They were salty from tears when she pressed her lips against mine. I turned the kiss into something needy, something that expressed the vulnerable thing inside me with her name on it, without words. I wanted to pull her into my lap and hold her close but the internal sutures kept me from moving very much at all.

“M’not goin’ anywhere.” I pressed the words into her willing lips, my tongue easing in to glide over her teeth and then battle for dominance with her tongue.

“Okay,” she whispered on an inhale, her fingers teasing my happy trail below the surface. I was already responding to her kisses, my dick already filling with blood and half hard. I couldn’t help the grunt that was muffled by our lips when her fingers lightly grazed me. My eyes squeezed closed even tighter against the emotion that was stirring turmoil in my chest. The bath and the tease of something more made sense now. She wanted to put her hands on me to feel me alive and well. How could I ever have thought I’d be strong enough to begrudge her that.

From then on her touches were done with more intent, her fingers teasing my shaft only to go lower and gently roll my balls and hold them in her palm. I was gonna be a quick trigger and I couldn’t even bring myself to feel self-conscious about it. I hadn’t even put my own hand on me since a few days before my surgery. I hadn’t even thought of this since I’d been home, too distracted by the pain.

But, fuck if it didn’t feel good now. I was already panting hard, my head feeling dizzy from my short breaths and limited oxygen intake. I tried to turn around so that I could touch and taste more of her, but she stopped me with her hands pressing firmly against my pecks to keep me still. “Stay like this. This is just for you.”

I didn’t like being the only one on the receiving end. I got a lot of my pleasure from watching her feel good. I loved how responsive she was. I loved the noises that she made and how she would finally just let go and feel it. However, I had to admit that what she was doing, the being in control? Fuck, that was hot, too.

I finally had to stop trying to kiss her, leaning my head back and tucking my nose into the crook in her neck just so that I could breathe her scent into my lungs. I felt her other hand leave my side a moment and the sound of a thick liquid being squeezed from a bottle. It didn’t really register until her hand was slicking up my cock with a lubricant. It was oil based so that it didn’t wash off right away, removing the friction that water made uncomfortable. The warm, wet sensation was overwhelming and I couldn’t help the groan as I pushed my face further into her skin.

This time she didn’t tease, sensing my urgency in the twitch of my hips, her hand firm as she began pumping with purpose. I was already desperate, my breath started to get caught in my throat and hitch in my chest.

“Relax, let me do all the work.” She whispered like a dirty, dirty porn star and put pressure on my hip to try to keep me still. The action resulting in a moan from deep in my throat, a thrill of pleasure crawling up my spine. Fuck it was hot that she was bossing me around a little.

She would bring me right to the edge, my toes curling in the water, before she’d ease off. I could hardly stay still or hold in the vulnerable moans that echoed in the acoustics of the bathroom. I couldn’t help but to thrust into her hand as much as she would allow, planting my feet and trying to get the most out of every single one. To keep from sliding down, my hands were leaving finger print bruises as I gripped her thighs for dear life. Fuck!

“Oh, fuck. Oh, god-. …gonna… Sweetheart, I’m gonna-. Oh, fuck!” When she finally let me come it felt like months’ worth of come was dragged out of me in long, hard pulses. My balls clamped down so hard that they were actually sore when I could bring myself to give a fuck. To be honest, I didn’t know what I said, my mind blown and focused on just one thing, babbling the words that just rolled out of my mouth without a filter. There may have been curse words or multiple praises for unknown deities and moans that might’ve sounded like I was dying. All I really knew was that my throat was a little dry when I could finally focus on the room.

The orgasm had turned my entire body into jelly, my legs and arms were like limp noodles. I hissed through my teeth, my dick still very sensitive, when she washed the lubricant off with a warm, soapy wash cloth. God, as much as I’d complained and tried to convince Y/N that this wasn’t a good idea, I had to admit to myself that I had been wrong.

Even though I had been a grumpy ass, she had still been able to take care of me so completely that mixed in with the orgasmic haze was a hell of a lot of gratitude.

Getting me out of the bath tub and dried off would probably be a funny story later, but I was too relaxed to care. I could feel the dopey smile on my face as Y/N laughed at me while I leaned almost my entire weight into her side. “Whoo…” We listed to the left and to the right a little because my brain was mostly out of the building.

“Alright, chuckles, hang on for me for just a minute longer.” She kind of sounded like I was probably killing her back, but my center of gravity depended on her.

When we finally made it safely to the bedroom and into bed, she took great care as she tucked me in. She pulled the comforter up to beneath my chin and dipped to kiss my lips one more time.

It was pure luck that I was able to work my hand and to grab onto her shirt before she could get up to leave. She returned the big, dumb smile I could feel on my face. “Stay.”

The amused smile on her kiss swollen lips turned soft as she answered me with a kiss to my forehead. “Okay.” I watched blearily as she ditched her blue jeans and bra, climbing and snuggling up close next to me in just a t shirt and her blue lace panties. She laid up against me, but put her arm over my chest to avoid my incision, tucking her face beside mine, sharing my pillow. “Love you.”

I pressed my lips into her forehead, staying there as I fell into a few deep, quality hours of sleep. “Love you, too.”

Tagging (Forever’s): @perpetualabsurdity, @maileann, @daydreamingintheimpala, @gecko9596, @gemini75eeyore, @jotink78, @dancingalone21, @winchesterprincessbride, @sandlee44, @exploratiionist, @arryn-nyx, @littledarlinhavefaithinme, @tiffanycaruso, @boredoutofmymindstuff, @feelmyroarrrr, @raeganr99, @ruprecht0420, @anokhi07, @letsgetyourdeanon, @sis-tafics, @callmesatansprincess, @atc74, @ryansgirl5509, @notnaturalanahi, @keepcalmandcarryondean, @sea040561, @just-another-busy-fangirl, @uniquewerewolfsuit, @ria132love, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @pretty-fortune, @butiaintgonnaloveem, @justanotherdeangrl, @weasleywinchester,@easelweasel, @akshi8278, @tas898, @mandymoiselle1970, @pansexualmeteorite,

Tagging (CBD Only): @melissaj616, @katrena7, @deansdirtyduchess, @anticipate1003, @jalove-wecallhimdean, @shamelesslydean, @xristina-gkika

[felicia-cat-hardy]

How The May 2021 Full Moon Will Affect Each Zodiac Sign

If April showers bring May flowers, then the May 2021 full moon (also known fittingly as this year’s Flower Moon) is sure to inspire all sorts of blossoming changes in our lives. Rising on the morning of May 26, this lunation is both a supermoon and the first eclipse of the year — meaning it has the power to affect major turning points, revelations, and shifts in our paths. The chaotic eclipse energy is buzzing with unpredictability, so you’ll want to get in the know about exactly how the May 2021 full moon eclipse will affect your zodiac sign.

This lunar eclipse takes place in the fiery and free-spirited zodiac sign of Sagittarius, which sparks our desire for adventure, travel, and spiritual expansion. It asks us to step back and assess our lives from a wider angle instead of getting so lost in the details that we lose sight of the big picture. Eclipses can be turbulent astrological periods, throwing sudden twists and turns into our lives — so having a broader perspective can help us integrate whatever the universe sends our way. Thankfully, as the mutable fire sign of the bunch, Sagittarius’ energy will encourage an optimistic approach and help us to embrace this fresh sense of direction.

This supermoon is also forming a tough T-square aspect with expansive planet Jupiter, which gives us a “go big or go home” attitude and makes us want to push the limits. However, given the unsteadiness brought on by the eclipse cycle, we’re better off leaning toward moderation instead of excess — no matter how tempted we are to go over the top with our emotions, decisions, or reactions to things.

Here’s how the May 2021 full supermoon will affect you, based on your zodiac sign, so you know what to expect when the year’s first eclipse finally hits.

If Your Zodiac Sign Is Aries (March 21 - April 19)

Look out for sudden endings or revelations when it comes to anything related to a higher-minded journey, Aries — whether that’s related to school, travel, or even a spiritual quest. You may find yourself connecting with a new mentor or perhaps breaking away from a field of interest you thought you wanted to pursue. The changes may feel destabilizing, but trust that you know what’s best for you.

If Your Zodiac Sign Is Taurus (April 20 - May 20)

As an earth sign, you’re naturally focused on tangible matters, Taurus — but this eclipse is asking you to pay equally close attention to your energetic belongings. Are there promises you’ve made but haven’t kept, or debts you’ve been putting off paying? These imbalances within our relationship may be invisible, but they’re still as heavy as steel, so free yourself of the burden.

If Your Zodiac Sign Is Gemini (May 21 - June 20)

Partnerships in your life are changing right now, Gemini, so be ready show up authentically and have some open-minded conversations with the people close to you. Relationships often require us to step outside of our comfort zones, even if we feel like staying in one place — so be willing to go with the flow and challenge yourself in order to maintain your closest connections.

If Your Zodiac Sign Is Cancer (June 21 - July 22)

You’ve been in a spiritual haze lately, Cancer, putting more focus on your subconscious fantasies than your daily tasks. But this eclipse is shaking up your productivity levels and restructuring your priority list, so be ready to get real with your responsibilities. Taking care of yourself means striking a balance between your dreams and your reality, so save some time and energy for both.

If Your Zodiac Sign Is Leo (July 23 - Aug. 22)

This eclipse is hitting the most romantic sector of your chart, Leo, so don’t be surprised if a hot date suddenly pops up on your radar or if you hit a turning point within a steamy fling. A friend could turn into a lover now, or a lover could turn into a partner — but either way, the influx of exciting energy in your love life will leave you flooded with inspiration that’ll shine through into other areas of your life, too.

If Your Zodiac Sign Is Virgo (Aug. 23 - Sept. 22)

Your home life is calling for your attention now, Virgo, so it’ll be important to take a step back from work so you can address these private matters with your full attention. Whether it’s roommate drama, a change in your living situation, or a family feud, these close-to-home issues could make you feel unsteady and emotional. Be gentle with yourself and trust what’s in your heart.

If Your Zodiac Sign Is Libra (Sept. 23 - Oct. 22)

The fiery and outgoing energy of this full moon is inspiring you to connect with friends, family, and colleagues now, Libra — but all this socializing isn’t without some unexpected eclipse drama. Be cautious of taking gossip to an extreme or overbooking yourself with social plans, as tensions will be high and tempers will be hot for everyone, so things schedules and conversations might not flow as easily as usual.

If Your Zodiac Sign Is Scorpio (Oct. 23 - Nov. 21)

Step away from the whirlpool of emotions happening in your heart, Scorpio, and distract yourself with the comforts of measurable money matters during this eclipse. It’s likely to bring some sudden changes within your financial life — you might get a raise, run into an unforeseen expense, or decide to drop a side gig so you can have some extra free time. However it manifests, use these changes to your advantage. There’s a silver lining to every cloud.

If Your Zodiac Sign Is Sagittarius (Nov. 22 - Dec. 21)

Happy full moon in your sign, Sag! With this year’s eclipses taking place on your relationship axis, this is a time to deeply examine your desires without any attachment. Relationship dynamics are changing, but you’re changing, too — so be willing to look clearly at your own reflection while also understanding that what you see is destined to transform into something new over time.

If Your Zodiac Sign Is Capricorn (Dec. 22 - Jan. 19)

This full moon is a spiritual one for you, Capricorn. And despite the reputation that eclipses hold for bringing chaos and change, this lunation is likely to hit you in a more subtle and quiet way, so you’ll have to pay attention in order to align with its vibrations. Your subconscious desires are shifting, so get in touch with your mystical side — it’s a great time for a witchy new moon ritual or crystal meditation session.

If Your Zodiac Sign Is Aquarius (Jan. 20 - Feb. 18)

Look out for drama among your social squad now, Aquarius, because this feisty eclipse is hitting the friendship sector of your chart and stirring the gossip pot. Sudden changes in the group dynamic could shake up the status quo within your crew, but don’t get sucked into the game. It’s up to you to rise above the squabbles and try to see the big picture so you can help restore some harmony and diffuse the drama.

If Your Zodiac Sign Is Pisces (Feb. 19 - March 20)

Things are shaking up and breaking up in your career right now, Pisces, so bring your A-game and be ready to roll with the changes. Whether it’s a job change, some sudden news at work, or some unexpected but welcome recognition for all of your professional efforts, there are big things happening. Stand tall and be confident in your talents and skills — this eclipse is aligning you with a new and better path.

Get Relationship Advice Here

[sweetcontradiction]

Why So Blue, Baby?

CHAPTER 1

Anderson smiled as he placed his sleeping newborn into the material around his body, his smile growing when she exhaled a small breath of pleasure as his lips met her cheek. He always loved the new baby smell, it was something he couldn’t get enough of. As he secured the tiny pale pink hat on her head, he gave her one last longing look before going to find his other girls.

He glanced through the kitchen window and saw his eldest on the back porch, her baby doll in her arms as she fed her milk in the rocking chair - trying to mimic the way she had seen her mom do it over the past couple weeks. Making up three glasses of lemonade, he sauntered outside and placed Charlotte’s on the glass table residing by the chair. She immediately perked up.

“Lemonade?”

“Only because you were so good for nana” he smiled, watching the way her smile reached her eyes in pride. In her three short years of life, she had very rarely been separated from her parents and so Miranda’s five-day-stay in hospital had been a great challenge for her.

He tried to hand the second glass to his snoozing wife, who was sat in the other rocking chair, her sunglasses placed on her eyes as she tried to soak up some sun and some sleep. He frowned when she didn’t even attempt to grasp the glass. Instead, he just placed it back on the table, not wanting to disturb her when she’d finally managed to find sleep. She’d spent the past two weeks tossing and turning every night, trying her best to act discrete so that she wouldn’t wake him. But he noticed. Despite her insisting on doing almost every feed - since she was awake anyway - he couldn’t help but worry about her sinking energy levels, especially so soon after giving birth.

Taking a seat on the top step, Anderson smiled as his little girl came and sat next to him - lemonade in one hand and her baby in the other.

“Is baby Luna sleeping too?”

“She fell asleep five minutes ago, so you need to be a good girl and stay quiet for us, okay?”

“Got it daddy!”, Charlotte whispered back, stroking the light material covering her baby sister’s back.  “She sleeps a lot…”

“And so did you…” Anderson chuckled, pinching her button nose lightly. “That’s what babies do.”

“Is that why mommy sleeps during the day now too?”

Anderson grimaced, his daughter was clearly more observant than he gave her credit for. He’d been hoping she wouldn’t be too affected by her mother’s need to juggle two children now.

“Yeah, baby. Because she feeds Luna when she’s awake at night, she needs more sleep during the day.” he explained. “But I can play with you.”

“That’s okay daddy, I’ve got my baby too!”

He chuckled, giving her forehead a sloppy kiss as he left his three-year-old to continue feeding her ‘baby’ before peering over his shoulder to take another look at his wife. He could see she was still asleep, or at least trying but he noticed the sun was beginning to turn her bare shoulders a deep red. Wandering back into the house with Luna in tow, he retrieved the sun lotion before returning to the back porch. He squeezed a generous dollop on to the palm of his hand and began rubbing it into Miranda’s shoulders - praying it wouldn’t disturb her sleep.

Just as he was finishing her left shoulder, she began to stir. He prayed she woke up feeling refreshed. As much as he didn’t mind doing most of the chores himself, he missed their teamwork when coping with a newborn.

“Hey” he smiled, leaning down to give her cheek a kiss.

After taking a few moments to take in her surroundings, Miranda returned the smile but her eyes were fixed on her sleeping daughter, bundled up on her dad’s chest.

“I wanna take her.”

“Ran, she’s slee—“

“Give me my baby” she whispered harshly.

He wasn’t quite sure if she was just cranky from her sleep being disturbed or if she was genuinely being overprotective. Either way, he took their sleeping daughter from his chest and placed her delicate body down into her mother’s arms, rejoicing as Miranda coo’d over her - her cracked nails brushing over Luna’s chubby cheeks. He watched them for a minute, making sure Miranda was comfortable before going to sit beside Charlotte to see if she had any gossip for him.

____________________________

He found Miranda in their bedroom, her hair still in the messy bun atop her head from four days previous and her pajamas identical to the ones she had on two days ago. Luna was at her breast, desperately suckling away. He noticed she barely even blinked when he walked into the room. He turned the main light off, leaving only the lamp on as he stripped to just his boxers and peeled his side of the bedding back, crawling in beside his girls.

“Charlotte’s finally asleep. It took three stories but she’s out for the count now. I think the excitement of a being a big sister is getting to her.” he laughed, looking over at his wife. Her face remained expressionless except for the hint of a small smile, but it seemed forced. She just kept her eyes on the child feeding from her and stroked her back up and down.

“Babe…”

She looked over at him, seeing his worry filled eyes.

“I can do the feeds tonight and give her formula… so you can sleep.”

“I don’t need sleep”, she replied bluntly. “and my milk is better for her.”

“Your health is just as important, y’know…”

He tucked a falling blonde curl behind her ear as her eyes fell back onto their baby. The room returned to an awkward silence until Luna finally finished her bedtime snack and looked up at her mother with satisfied eyes.

“Want me to burp her?”

“I can do it!”

Anderson frowned as Miranda didn’t even bother to pull her pajama shirt back up as she put Luna over her shoulder and proceeded to ensure she was free of wind.

“Honey…” he treaded carefully. “I’m worried about you.”

She had been just fine after Luna’s birth, considering all the drama. He was surprised how well she had coped. He hadn’t even noticed a difference to Charlotte’s birth - she seemed just as elated. But since returning home, she had grown increasingly more reserved. She took a great interest in everything to do with her children but she seemed distant. He thought he knew why but it wasn’t a topic he wanted to bring up. It had been awkward enough prior to her birth.

“I don’t know how many times I need to tell you - I am fine. I’m tired but who wouldn’t be?”

“You sure that’s all it is?”

“Please just leave it, okay? I promise.”

He let out a sigh, watching as she placed Luna down into the bassinet beside their bed. He looked on as she took the time to place a soft kiss on their newborn’s forehead before pulling the lemon laced blanket up to her torso.

Climbing into bed next to him, he stretched his arms out, in the hope she’d curl up beside him like she always did - and it worked. As Miranda cuddled into his awaiting arms, Anderson wrapped her frail body in his, drawing abstract images on her back in an attempt to soothe her. He could feel how tense she was and her reluctance to put her arms around his middle like she usually did worried him.

Of course, he thought he was overreacting - his wife had just experienced a traumatic delivery and a whirlwind of a week drugged up in hospital. But he couldn’t help but wonder if the repercussions of Luna’s pre-birth drama were getting to her.

[scrutineerethel]

3200.8.Maius

Recorded Transcript 

[[Scene: A large, clean, and well-equipped kitchen located in the basement of the Eridanii Embassy on Imperial Prime. Though it is relatively early in the morning, there is already plenty of activity here. A few well-dressed servers mix among a dozen chefs, all of whom wear aprons with the House Eridanus symbol embroidered over their heart.]]

An older-looking woman enters the kitchen. She wears a modest white dress with a high-necked, black coat over it - formal enough for daily business attire but lacking any sort of ornamentation that would be appropriate for such a gala.  Her grey hair is tied back in a tight bun. She carries a half-full teacup in one hand and a datapad in the other. 

After saying a few quick words to one of the chefs, she takes a seat at a small wooden table near the back of the kitchen where she will be out of the way of the workers.The woman taps a few notes into her datapad, then presses a button and speaks towards it. 

"Luzia. Review my appointments for today. As I recall, we had scheduled several meetings on Imperial Prime since I was required to be here for the gala. Presuming this lock-down of the embassy is going to persist, you will need to contact all my appointments for today and attempt to reschedule for later in the week. Do not reschedule tomorrow's appointments yet. One hopes this inconvenience will not take any longer than a day to resolve but ..." 

She seems to want to say something else here, but shakes her head and regroups instead. 

"... But, I will let you know tomorrow morning if those appointments will also need to be moved. For now, I am in the kitchen to try to get my usual work done. The suites are entirely too loud for this purpose. If anyone needs me, they should send me a message."

Another woman enters the kitchens, blearily rubbing her eyes. She's wrapped in a loose, fuzzy robe, her hair is in a messy bun perched precariously on her head, and she doesn't particularly seem to care that she's supposed to be at a "gala". She opens one eye and sees an older lady sitting at a wooden table near the back. 

"At least someone in here has some sense," she mutters to herself. She swipes a platter with a tea-kettle and two cups from a setting marked "Purple Seas" and makes her way over to the table.She sets the platter down in front of the other woman, probably disturbing any paper or tablets if present. She looks over to the woman, "Honestly, you'd think Lyra was as terribly off as Pyxis, the way they're stalling on paying a ransom. They can pay a ransom, right? Anyway, I'm Echo Brosson Perrin - House Pyxis. Tea?" She pours tea into both cups, regardless.

Ethelind blinks up at the younger woman, quickly pulling her datapad away from the platter.

"Pyxis, did you say?" Ethelind looks over Perrin appraisingly, then nods as if to say 'That tracks.' 

"Ethelind Riverty - House Eridanus." She pulls the full teacup closer to her, pushing aside her now empty one. "And I am inclined to agree with you about the ransom. Just pay the damn thing so the rest of us don't need to be held hostage here! Poisoning and kidnapping are simply assumed risks one takes when agreeing to attend an event like this. Surely Lyra should have budgeted for the possibility of a ransom?"

"Ethelind of Eridanus! A welcomed crossing, indeed." Perrin sips her tea.  "Your House sure knows how to throw a party.

"You know, I bet Lyra loves the drama. Maybe they're drawing it out on purpose. But I could do without a lockdown, honestly. How come you aren't up there with the other Eridanus hosts?" She peers at Ethelind over the teacup.

Ethelind crooks an eyebrow, then takes a sip of tea before she replies. "In truth, I had not planned to attend at all. While I appreciate the need for the festivities and opportunities for diplomacy the gala provides, it's difficult not to think of it as a colossal waste of time and money - which it is. I only decided to come to Imperial Prime when it became obvious that I wouldn't be able to accomplish anything at my offices on Tiber while the rest of my House is here in a drunken stupor." 

She chuckles a little at this, as if it might be a joke - though it doesn't really sound like one ... 

"Tell me, Perrin of House Pyxis - what do you know about the Lyran who's been kidnapped? Are they anyone of consequence? I confess, I was too busy yesterday to have paid it any attention until I saw the notification about the lock-down."

Perrin chuckles at the thought of House Eridanus in a drunken stupor - she totally missed the tone. "Well, from what I gather he's relatively well-known? Horuset Montgomery something-or-other? Unfortunately I'm a little out of the loop on gossip myself. One of the Pyxis Orators speaks fondly of him, though."

"Interesting."  Ethel stirs her tea, then calls out to one of the nearby servers.  "Tobias - would you bring over a bowl of sugar and a bit of milk?" 

There is a quick shuffle to see to Ethel's request, and the server hurries over with the milk and sugar bowls, which he places on the tray. He quickly retrieves Ethel's empty teacup before hurrying away once more. Ethel uses a small pair of tongs to drop two sugar cubes into her teacup, followed by a splash of milk. She begins stirring her tea again as she speaks. 

"I've had the opportunity to speak to a few of your Orators before, though I have yet to run into them in person. They seem like a friendly bunch. Quite .... honest." Ethel settles on the word after pausing for a moment.  "But you said that you are an 'Echo' if I am not mistaken? What precisely does that title mean in your House?"

"Oh hey, Tobias come back, I'm starving." Perrin points to the hotplate for the Purple Seas. "Just grab me that plate there that's ready to go, I'm sure the recipient up there will understand." She winks what she thinks is her most charming wink. Tobias hesitates for a second and then retrieves the plate in question, rushing back over to the cooks who roll their eyes a bit but start prepping a new plate for the restaurant. 

"The Orators are good folk. Probably as honest as they are because they can't wait to not be stuck talking to a bunch of stuffy diplomats - no offense." Perrin stabs a sausage and waves it around a bit as she talks. 

"So, Echoes - we basically carry information system to system. Sounds redundant, right? The way comms work anyway? Well my ship houses internal Pyxis messages that need to cross the sector in  a way that -" She looks around. "- Velan routes can't, if you catch my drift." She pops the sausage in her mouth.

Ethel laughs a little. "Yes, one of your Orators recently told me I was lucky he'd answered a communication from an Eridanii at all. It is not difficult to imagine that we bring bad news to House Pyxis far more often than good news." 

She looks over at Tobias again, who tries for a moment to evade her glance but finally gives in as she crooks a finger at him. He crosses the busy kitchen a third time, garnering some irritated grunts from the chefs as he does so. 

"Toast and jam for me, Tobias. The black currant if any was brought over from Tiber - which it certainly should have been."  Tobias nods and speeds off to fulfill the new request. 

"So if your Pyxis Echoes are taking 'alternative' routes to deliver these messages, does that imply that the messages reach their destinations faster than they would using regular means?"

Perrin's eyes light up and she shoves her plate to the side. "Okay, so -" She holds her palm flat, facing up and activates a small hologram of the sector map above it. 

"Here's Imperial Prime. Here's say, I dunno - Halvei, in the Oenon System." The two sectors light up. "If you want to go the traditional way, using Imperial Velan charts, you'd drill through spikespace in these sectors." Sectors light up on the map in a connected line from Imperial Prime to Halvei. 

"Buuuut - and this is the cool part - what if you drill here and end up here?" She points at the two planets and Imperial Prime and Halvei's sectors light up with no connecting lines.

Ethel stares down at the hologram, takes a long sip of tea, and then stares at it again. 

"From your enthusiasm, I have to imagine the answer is that you somehow arrive safely at your intended destination. Though I honestly cannot understand why it wouldn't be more likely that you lose yourself and your message in a black hole. Though, perhaps, that is part of the ... charm?" Ethel hangs uncertainly on the word, clearly a little out of her depth when it comes to sussing out Pyxis motivations.

Perrin laughs, "Exactly! It's like folding a piece of fabric and connecting those two points to make a new pattern - skip all this extra time and space in between. And besides, falling into a black hole wouldn't even be the worst outcome - imagine what you'd see once the event horizon spits you back out." She stares wistfully into the distance for a moment and the hologram disappears. 

She sighs, "Honestly, we know what most of the sector thinks of us but, someday we'll have hard evidence and not just theory. I refuse to believe there's nothing else in the sector."

Tobias drops off Ethel's toast and jam and then hurries off before either noble can make another request of him. 

"It is certainly enlightening to see your exuberance for your craft. It's true that I - and I suppose most of the sector - do not understand the risks that you and your House take. But when you describe it as such, it sounds like a brave and worthy endeavor ... if maybe a bit foolhardy as well." 

Ethel gives Perrin a small smile. She's obviously trying so. hard. 

"But the idea of there being more in Acheron Rho ... what do you mean by that? What would you hope to find, exactly?"

"Well!" Perrin leans back and hooks an elbow over the back of her chair. "House Vela says we've mapped the whole sector, right? But who has access to those their archives now - only them. They sure have a lot of power in controlling the flow of people. House Vela adjusts the maps. Who's to say they didn't do that already and there's a sector with a forgotten planet in it? Because they didn't like what we - and I say we as in, Pyxis was once part of Vela - found there?"

Perrin leans forward again and holds her hands up. "Vela has the power to just say, 'Hm, nope - this planet doesn't exist anymore,' and cut them out of the map completely! Imagine what that could do to a population or a House - cutting them off from the Imperium like that." She shakes her head and tuts. "We're trying to make sure that doesn't happen, and if it did we want to find out about it."

"So you are speaking in hypotheticals, then? It is not that Pyxis knows Vela has done this, but that Pyxis knows Vela has the power to do so?" 

Ethel picks a bit at her toast, frowning slightly. 

"And if it had been done in the past, surely Vela would not have made such a move without the express support or instruction of the High Church, no? Particularly if it was done to separate - or erase - the population of a former House?" 

Ethel looks up at Perrin pointedly.

Perrin squints a little at Ethelind. "Any Pyxis that actually were around long enough to access records as to whether it happened before are probably long dead - occupational hazard with us, of course. As for which institutions would have been behind it well, the High Church -" Perrin's mouth twists a little around the words "- and the Imperial House itself - especially since there was a Velan Emperox." 

She waves a hand, dismissively. "I mean we can't really prove anything until we find something so until then, it's just the usual Pyxis behaviour as far as everyone's concerned. Until we stop chucking ships and people at a problem and start producing evidence, no one will look twice." 

She cocks an eyebrow at Ethelind as if to say, "Right?"

Ethelind casts a quick glance around the kitchen before turning back to Perrin. She nods in response. 'Right.' 

"Yes, well. Pyxis does have some interesting theories, I'll give you that. But - back to the topic at hand. I'm curious - what chance is there that an Echo might be willing to carry some communications other than internal Pyxis messages?" 

Ethel picks up the teapot and fills first Perrin's cup and then her own. "It seems to me that would be a very valuable service to provide. Faster than usual delivery at the expense of being a little less ... reliable. But, perhaps, a bit more secure as well, since anyone who intercepted the Echo would assume that any communications they carried were simply Pyxis messages to one another."

Perrin purses her lips. "I mean, officially... Yes. Everything's encrypted too. I don't even know what the messages are, half the time. Unofficially..." She picks up her cup and smiles at Ethelind, "I wouldn't be opposed, but the ratio of willingness increases with payment."

"I think you'll find that a willing Echo would be well compensated for such an arrangement." Ethelind returns the smile. "However, I would have to insist that payment be rendered per delivery, rather than on a contractual basis, simply because it is impossible to know how long the terms of the contract would be - based upon the general Pyxis life expectancy, of course."

Perrin nods. "I suppose that's a fair stipulation for something like this. Even we have no idea most of the time." She chuckles. I look forward to working with you in the future, then."

"And I with you."  Ethel nods.  "I'll have my secretary send over my suggested terms, my contact information, and an initial payment - consider it an advance for your helpfulness this morning." 

Ethel sets her teacup on the tray, along with her now-empty dish. She pushes her chair back from the table. "I suppose I should check in on the rest of my House. When I left our suite this morning, at least two of them and perhaps a third were discussing the possibility of proposals. Goodness knows how many of them will be married by the time I get back. It was good to meet you, Pyxis Perrin. Should you find yourself looking for conversation away from the noise of the rest of the gala, I would be happy to share another pot of tea at a later time."

Perrin raises her eyebrows at the mention of 'proposals'. "Well, good luck with that. It was good to meet you as well, I think I may have had the wrong idea about your House. You certainly didn't seem incredibly boring to me." She smiles. "Until the next star." 

[[The scene fades on Perrin reopening her sector map hologram as Ethelind exits.]]

Transcript of a scene with @seekerpyxisbrossonperrin.