#this has been sitting in my drafts for like 3 days cause I wasn’t too big on how it turned out

[alistairs]

✨💕✨💕✨

@halsin

[mionemymind]

Chapter 2: Confessions for You

My Rival Series

Series Summary: The time where Y/n Y/l/n and Wanda Maximoff were academic rivals that fell for each other.

Chapter Summary: Y/n already is losing herself to her studies as competition looms closer and closer.

A/n: Gif credits to @elizabetholsens

Warnings: Rivals to Lovers, Obvious Feelings, Stubborn Reader, Cursing, Alcohol, Puking, Memory Loss? (ish)

Word Count: 5.1k

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |

Last Month - Spring Semester

‘I fucking hate losing to her.’ Y/n’s fists were tightly clenched as she saw Wanda celebrate another perfect score. The glimmer in her eyes almost made Y/n’s vein burst from anger. The competition was in three weeks and the last day of school was in four weeks. 

It's been almost a month since she spoke to Dean Holloway about her scholarship. Since then, Y/n’s mental health has extremely deteriorated. The lack of sleep and the inability to eat was catching up to the bright student. 

She was making more mistakes in math club, simple ones that even the freshman could do with their eyes closed. Her confidence has gotten lower and lower the more she was unable to perfect her craft. 

And as Y/n stared at the ninety nine written on her test, all emotion was devoid from her. She was tired. Something that Wanda had noticed. The brunette had kept up on her usual appearances around Y/n. She taunted Y/n slightly over scores, grinned at every question she got right at math club, and overall proved to everyone why she was number one. 

But that wasn’t to say that the brunette didn’t notice all the changes happening to Y/n. If anything, Wanda was the first to notice all the changes. She noticed the appearance of deeper eyes bags, the short temper Y/n had over small mistakes, and even worse, the lack of focus Y/n had during lectures. 

There were other changes too like the way Y/n no longer engaged at all to Wanda’s banter. Instead, she would walk away, fists clenched, as if Y/n was holding herself back. Or the times that Wanda no longer spotted Y/n with her friends at all. It was like she was distancing herself from everyone she knew. 

While Wanda tried her best to look out for Y/n, all her kindness turned bitter when she thought of that meeting. 

Sitting across from each other, the two were finishing their project, looking over the final draft before submitting it. Wanda was looking over Y/n’s part of the essay when she came across a large paragraph that contained a lot of circular reasoning and hardly any sources. 

Wanda circled it and leaned forward to show Y/n. “Hey, you made a mist-,” Y/n snatched the paper, already rereading the paragraph at lightening speed. Her shoulders were tense as she squinted her eyes to read the paper better. 

“You didn’t explain your side well enough. I see what you’re trying to say but you end up using circular reasoning to back up your point rather the the sources we’ve gathered.” 

Feeling already embarrassed enough from math club, Y/n had enough. She got up, causing the chair to make a horrible screeching noise. Wanda grimaced at the sound as she noticed Y/n packing up. 

“Where are you-”

“Fuck off, Maximoff. I don’t need your input.” Wanda was caught off guard at Y/n’s hostility, but the smart girl had a sharp tongue and there was no way in hell she was going to allow Y/n to talk to her like that. 

“Clearly you do when you’re making basic mistakes like that.” Y/n scoffed as she stuffed her backup. 

“Always quick to call out someone’s mistakes. Would love for the day someone laughs at yours.” Wanda got up, her chair making the same awful sound. 

“Why are you being so rude? We are doing a peer review. What did you expect? That I let you mess up my grade.” Y/n rolled her eyes as she swung her backup over her shoulder. The zipper was barely over the arch, the swing almost causing her backup to open up. Y/n grabbed the remainder of her stuff and held it.

“You’re the last person I would ever call my peer. Do what you have to Maximoff but I’m fucking done here.” Y/n left without another word.

Wanda stood at her spot, offended at the fact that Y/n even snapped at her. What was worse, she genuinely felt hurt by Y/n’s tone. Y/n had never spoken to her like that, not in the three years they’ve known each other. 

So as she grabbed her stuff, her paper being last, Wanda didn’t notice the lack of marks on her paragraphs. All she noticed was the painful feeling in her heart left by Y/n.

“Okay everyone, let's please settle down so we can talk about the format for this upcoming state competition.” Up at the front of the lecture hall stood Y/n and Wanda. Naturally they stood a couple of feet apart as Wanda took the lead of the meeting. 

“This year we have the amazing honor of bringing in three teams to represent Evergreen University. Fortunately for us, Dean Holloway was able to get the approval to send in another team this year.” There were several claps coming from the students as Y/n somberly looked at the floor. 

‘He just wants to increase the odds of me losing.’ Y/n thought. Noticing that Y/n was not paying attention, Wanda shook her head and continued with the announcement. 

“As tradition has it, we will hold a bracket competition for those that would like to compete. Each team will have four slots to fill. Naturally as your co-captains for the club, we will only have 10 slots available for those that want to participate.” 

Wanda walked over to Y/n, giving her a slight pat on the back as she walked past her. “Your co-captain will list off how the competition will go.” 

Y/n cleared her throat, regaining her focus as she addressed the crowd. “In order to better assess senior and new member abilities, we will be holding a kahoot style competition as this will best mirror the real competition.”

Walking away from Wanda, “In order to avoid embarrassment of who did or did not get the answer correctly, we will be using the clickers that the University has provided our club. On the sign up sheet, I will write down your name beside the clicker number. The top ten members will receive a place for the competition. However, the members that place 11th through 13th will constitute as our substitutes in the case of anything happening to our members.” 

Y/n sat over to the desk of clickers, ready to write. “For those that are not wanting to participate but would like to see who has made it to our team, you are more than welcomed to stay as the questions on the screen will provide great practice. You may start lining up now for your clickers.” Wanda ended her speech with a gratuitous smile. 

A long line of students started to form as Y/n wrote each name down. Coincidentally enough, the first two clickers were reserved for Wanda and Y/n. Unbeknownst to Y/n, she wrote Wanda’s name at first and her name being second. Even her subconscious knew the truth. 

So as Wanda got the questions ready, Y/n sat at the table, away from everyone, hoping that her extreme hours spent studying were going to be worth it. Y/n looked at Wanda who sat with some of her friends in the club. There was still that stupid smile on her face. 

‘Eat dirt.’ Was all Y/n thought as the first question popped up on the screen. 

“Wait - you’re unable to pick me up when spring semester ends? Why?” Y/n sighed, still feeling the bitterness from math club as she sat under a tree that observed the Hodgekins Math building. 

“I’m sorry honey - your father and I are going to attend an important meeting for his company in Europe. Unfortunately, we were unable to reschedule it as your father’s clients were only able during that time to discuss the merge factors. I do hope you understand.” 

Y/n’s eyes teared up, feeling lower than ever before as she spotted Wanda finally leaving the building, the brunette’s words still in her mind. 

“How are you expected to lead when you can’t even get in the top ten?” Wanda whispered as she smiled at the students who made the team. “If you can’t even score top five, how can I trust you? Get your head back or I’m going to have to get someone else to fill your spot.” 

“Can you at least send Percy to help me out?” Y/n wiped her tears before they got a chance to fall. The weight of everything was crushing her down and it felt like no one even noticed. 

“Of course. He’ll be there to help you. How is school going by the way? Are you having fun? Your grades still okay?” Y/n leaned back on the tree, making sure no one was nearby. 

“It's been…okay. My state competition is less than a month away and I’ve been trying my best to study a lot for it.” Y/n bit her cheek, the feeling of losing gripped her heart. “But other than that, my grades are still good.” 

Y/n couldn’t see it, but her Mom was smiling on the other end of the phone. “Is that girl - what’s her name - oh yeah, Wanda, still there?” Y/n froze at the mention of the brunette, even worse, Wanda was oddly walking in her direction.

“Mom - I really don’t want to talk about her.” It’s like no matter what, Wanda somehow managed to pop up everywhere in her life. 

“Well, it has been a while since you’ve talked about her. I was starting to think she was no longer around.” Y/n knew when her Mom was acting oblivious and this happened to be one of those moments. 

“Mom-”

“You know if you can’t stand it just come back home. Your father is more than happy to help you get enrolled into-”

“Mom - I’m not going to Langford University. Dad can keep wishing but I will stay at Evergreen University.” The topic of Langford and her father was always a strain. While Y/n’s father was an alright man and honestly a great father, his vision for Y/n’s future never aligned for what his daughter wanted. 

Ever since she got accepted to Evergreen University, their relationship grew complicated. He even stopped calling after Thanksgiving break of her first semester in college. While Y/n did have a better relationship with her mother, it was still complicated nonetheless. 

“Look, I have to go. I’ll talk to you later Mom. Bye - love you.” Y/n hung up before her mother said anything back. The brunette that’s been in her mind stood right in front of her with a blank look on her face. 

“What do you want?” Wanda rolled her eyes at Y/n’s hostility. She hadn’t even said a word and she’s already managed to piss Y/n off. Had it been earlier in the year, Wanda would have enjoyed just how quick she could get under Y/n’s nerves. But now, Wanda couldn’t stand Y/n either. 

Taking a deep breath, Wanda calmed her anger and said, “Have you thought about what I said?” 

Standing up, Y/n wiped any possible dirt from her pants and glared at Wanda. “Don’t even think about replacing me. I’ll be at the competition and I’ll make sure that my group wins it all.” 

“You better be on your A-game at our next practice. If not, I’m pulling you.” Y/n’s jaw clenched at Wanda’s threat. Who was she to call the shots? They were co-captains after all. 

“Don’t worry your pretty head about me, Maximoff. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

‘I need to focus.’ It was a weeknight. As usual, Y/n was using this time to study for math club. Wanda had sent out a new packet for the competitors to use as practice for the real competition. 

For a majority of the questions, she had gotten ninety seven out of the hundred correct. But Y/n was on the brink of losing it all. She knew that any wrong answer would immediately lead to a Maximoff victory and that was the last thing she wanted. 

‘I need to be perfect.’ Erasing her calculations, Y/n redid it but still wasn’t able to match to the correct answer. Tightening the grip on her pencil, Y/n tried to not let this get to the best of her. But the constant sound of Natasha practicing her guitar started to aggravate her. 

In addition small music was already playing in the background, something Natasha was trying to play along with. So when Y/n redid her calculations once more and still got the wrong answer, she could feel her anger start to resurface. Still, she maintained her best composure and erased the wrong answer. \

Retrying for the third time, Y/n was close to reaching the correct answer when her pencil tip broke. ‘Just bad timing. That’s all. Get a new pencil and move on.’ She spoke internally. But the rational thoughts mixing with her anger were not a good combo. 

Was she hallucinating or was Natasha’s music suddenly getting louder? Ignoring it, Y/n grabbed a new pencil when the sound of a new email alerted her attention to her laptop. Going to Outlook, Y/n looked at the new email, its subject already signaling alarms in her head. 

Dean Holloway 

New Scholarship Requirements 

Feeling all sorts of anger and embarrassment, Y/n broke her pencil and slammed her computer shut. Standing up quickly, Y/n looked at Natasha, and without thinking, said, “Can you please cut that shit off?” 

Y/n was already fuming with anger, not caring if she pissed her best friend at all. At first, Natasha looked shocked at Y/n’s outburst, quickly turning the music off. But the realization of Y/n’s tone offended Natasha. 

“What’s up with you?” Natasha placed the guitar up against the wall. Y/n had never yelled at her like this before. 

“I need to study and I can’t when you’re distracting me.” Y/n waved towards the direction of the speakers and the guitar as if it was so obvious. 

“You could have asked nicely rather than being a dick about it.” Natasha did not like Y/n’s tone one bit. While they were best friends, Natasha did not take shit from anyone. 

“You could have been considerate of other people in the room rather than assuming.” Natasha scoffed knowing that this was not the first time she played music in front of Y/n. Heck, she always played music ever since freshman year of high school. Natasha could vividly recall the amount of times she asked Y/n in the beginning days of them dorming. Y/n would always respond with a smile, saying she never minded. So why would things change now? 

“Bullshit - tell me the real reason.” Natasha stood up and crossed her arms, not giving into Y/n’s lie. 

“I’ve had enough. Maybe that’s the reason.” Natasha rolled her eyes. She walked closer to Y/n, quickly lifting her shirt up to expose just how skinny she had gotten. 

“You’ve hardly been eating.” Feeling defensive, Y/n backed up, pushing her shirt back down. “You hardly sleep anymore. Not only that, I’ve barely been able to speak to you without you running away to study. Something is up. So tell me.” 

Y/n glanced down to the floor. Tears pricked her eyes as she thought of a way to get out of this. Guilt consumed her as quickly as her anger did. And now, she doesn't know what to say. 

So when the red head saw her friend silently cry, her shoulders dropped and immediately went in for a hug. “Whatever is eating you up, just please tell me. I’ll make sure to help you through it so you don’t have to go through it alone.” 

‘If I’m not perfect…I’m going to lose you.’ But as Y/n clutched on to Natasha, no words escaped her mouth for the redhead had enough to worry about. 

Day Before Competition - Spring Semester

“I can’t believe you’re actually going to a party.” Y/n looked over the simple outfit she had on, blue jeans, loose white shirt, and converse. This was the first time she was going to a party, vividly recalling the multiple lies she’s used to get out of one in the past. 

“I don’t understand why this one is suddenly mandatory for club members to go to. We literally have a competition tomorrow.” Today was supposed to be spent for late night studying, but according to Wanda’s orders, this was a must for all twelve members. 

“Who cares? I know you’re going to do well.” Natasha says behind Y/n. The red head admired Y/n’s outfit before looking eyes with her through the mirror. “You’ve been studying your ass off. I just know tomorrow is going to be your day.” 

Y/n didn’t want to overthink Natasha's words. Ever since she outlashed that night, she refused to for her anger to get the best of her even though her circumstances weren’t so great. Offering Natasha a wide smile, Y/n said, “I’ll be only drinking one cup tonight but nothing else. I can’t be too drunk.”

“And I’m going to do the opposite, I will be getting drunk especially since finals are this upcoming week.” 

‘I want to leave.’ Hours into the party, the crowd grew more alive. More people were in the center dancing while many small groups formed around the frat house. The backyard was filled with people vaping or smoking. 

Y/n didn’t quite recognize all that attended the party. If she was being honest, people started to come even when they weren’t part of a club. There were a few outliers from chemistry and movie club, but other than that, the crowd was overwhelming. 

Sipping on the last few bits of her drink, Y/n watched Natasha with a small buzzing feeling. The red head was downing her fifth shot. A smirk was wide spread on her face as she wiped the small bits of tequila that were on the corner of her mouth. The crowd around her cheered as the next person got their shot ready.

Natasha walked to where Y/n was standing and stood beside her. Feeling touchy, she decided to lay her head on Y/n’s shoulder and observed the crowd. She knew a lot of the outliers from the many parties she’s been to. Plus, with how outgoing of a personality Natasha had, a lot of people gravitated towards her. 

But no matter how many people Natasha was friends with, Y/n was always her favorite. The two were opposites but that made the friendship even better. The red head always viewed Y/n as the black cat that never wanted to be petted. But the day she was finally allowed was one that Natasha always remembers. 

“Having fun?” Y/n could smell the alcohol from Natasha’s breath but didn’t mind. 

“A little bit. This drink is helping me not stress so much though.” Natasha smiled at Y/n’s confession. The two didn’t really have a long talk about her outburst many nights ago. And while Natasha always had her guesses, she remained at Y/n’s side, never wanting her best friend to feel alone. 

As for Y/n, vowed to keep her anger in check. While she did still feel irritated at times, she focused on not letting her anger consume her as much. Even with the given circumstances, it wasn’t fair to Natasha or any of her friends to get the short end of the stick. It wasn’t their fault for the way things were. 

“Ya know Nat, for this party to have mandatory attendance, I have not seen Wanda or any of the math club members anywhere.” Natasha looked around the crowd that was in the dance room and couldn’t spot the all too familiar brunette at all. 

“That’s weird. Did y’all agree for a meet up spot?” Y/n shook her head no. 

“I haven’t even gotten a text from Wanda. She’s usually on top of these things.” The two watched for a moment, letting the loud music fill the comfortable silence between them. Wanting to get another shot, Natasha almost left when she saw Wanda amongst the crowd. 

“Why does Wanda affect you so much?” Y/n almost hadn’t heard Natasha’s question, but when Y/n followed the direction of her gaze, she knew. 

“She doesn’t affect me.” Although it was a small buzz, the ability to lie knowing she had drunk a little was all the confidence Y/n needed. 

“Well you talk about her,” Natasha pointed out. “Plus, anytime she’s around, you end up bickering for a while. Sometimes you would go on rants talking about what she said to you during class.”

The blush that appeared on Y/n’s cheek was hard to spot in the dark setting. The brown eyed girl clutched on her red solo cup, feeling embarrassed that she was easily called out with compelling evidence. 

Looking back at Wanda, Y/n could feel her heart rate increase as she saw her talking to other people. There was this different aura surrounding her. Maybe it was the drink or maybe it was the fact that she seemed to really enjoy herself. Like academics wasn’t the only thing she excelled in. 

“Is she the reason you’re acting so differently lately?” Natasha lifted her head as she felt Y/n stiffen up. Feeling like she overstepped, the red head was about to spout an apology.

“Yeah,” Y/n continued to look at Wanda. Even though it was rude to blame the situation on her, it was easier to admit it than speak the truth. “It’s just..I hate Wanda Maximoff. I hate her face and the way she hides her freckles. I hate her smile and how perfect she laughs. I hate how smart she is and how she knows everything. I hate her.” Y/n complained. 

But how could she hate the girl that always took number one in everything? How could she hate the girl that captivated her mind 24/7? How could she hate the girl she would willingly be number two for?

And as Natasha looked back at Wanda then Y/n, a realization suddenly hit her. ‘You like her.’ But Natasha didn’t dare to confess this outloud but it was so obvious. ‘What else would eat her up this way?’ Natasha thought. 

On the other side of the party, Wanda could feel eyes on her. Looking around the room, she finally connected to the brown eyes she knew well. Unknowingly, the sight of Natasha being so close aggravated the brunette for some reason.

But all Wanda could focus on was how soft Y/n’s stare was. There was no jealousy or bitterness about them. And that captivated Wanda even more because this was the first time that Y/n had ever looked at Wanda that way. 

Suddenly, all the air shifted in the room, and Wanda couldn’t help but think, “Why does she hate me?” 

Natasha left after her tenth shot as her girlfriend dragged her away. Feeling no reason to stay any longer, Y/n made her way out the frat house when she bumped into Wanda. 

The red head was unable to stand up straight, almost falling if it weren’t for Y/n’s arms. “Hey - hey - are you okay?” 

Here was the gaze again, the same one Wanda felt half an hour ago. It was almost too much to handle the first time, leading Wanda to drink even more. It was stupid, nonetheless, Wanda was drunk and the very reason why was the same one holding her. 

Feeling too much, Wanda leaned away as she puked into the bush. Almost wanting to puke from the sight, Y/n held Wanda’s hair back as she patted her back. “There - there.” 

Y/n looked around and was thankful that no one was here to witness this scene. As much as she hated Wanda, Y/n didn’t want this image to be in people’s heads. 

Standing back up, Wanda teared up, hating the feeling of puking. 

“Hey - it’s gonna be okay.” Not knowing what compelled her to do this, Y/n used the bottom of her shirt to wipe Wanda’s mouth. She didn’t care if puke got on her. The idea of Wanda crying infront of her was worse than puke. 

“Let me take you back home. You can’t walk in these conditions.” Was Y/n thankful that Wanda had bumped into her? No…well at least that’s what she would say out loud. But as Y/n walked Wanda back to her dorm, the awful thought of Wanda unsafely walking by herself at night made her sick. 

Arriving to dorm 321, Y/n swiped the key card, opening the door to a cold room. Carefully leading Wanda to her bed, Y/n lifted the white duvet, allowing Wanda to crawl in. 

When Wanda looked comfortable, Y/n looked around the room, noticing the minifridge at the corner. Opening it up, Y/n grabbed a water bottle and placed it at Wanda’s nightstand. 

Although Y/n could leave, the sight of Wanda sleeping made her freeze. Many thoughts slipped through her mind, some that she would blame the alcohol on. But there was this worrying feeling in her heart as the thought of Wanda puking in her sleep crossed her mind. 

No one would be able to help her in time considering she didn’t have a roommate. Groaning at her predicament, Y/n looked around the room. There was no spare pillow or blanket. It would be a rough night and the competition was soon. Looking at the clock on her wall, the bus would be ready to leave at 8:00 am giving Y/n around six and half hours to sleep. 

Was it worth it to stay at all? Would Wanda be fine? But as Y/n helped Wanda turn on her side to sleep, the brown eyed girl knew her answer. 

“Wanda, I’m going to be on the floor. If you need anything, just let me know.” There was no response from Wanda. Figuring she could leave before Wanda woke up in the morning, Y/n laid down on the ground, feeling cold from the intense air conditioning.

‘I can’t sleep if I’m freezing to death.’ The thought of using the rug below her as a blanket crossed her mind. Before she could say fuck it, Wanda’s voice caught her attention.

“Why do you hate me?” Glancing towards the bed, Y/n couldn’t see Wanda’s face from her view at the floor. Laying back down, Y/n looked at the ceiling, surprised that Wanda was even up.

“What makes you think that?” It was rude to dampen a drunk girl, that much was common sense for Y/n. So rather than outwardly admit anything, she rediverted it back to Wanda. 

“I can’t recall a moment where you were kind to me.” Y/n froze as she thought about that moment back in the library, wondering if Wanda had her flannel in her dresser. “And I don’t think you’ve said a nice thing about me…so you must hate me.” 

Oh how wrong Wanda was. Because the truth of it all, Y/n never hated Wanda. She could never hate the girl that pushed her to do her best everyday. She could never hate the girl that would go above and beyond for people that need help. She could never hate the girl she lived and breathed for. 

“I have said nice things about you,” Y/n whispered. The two never spoke like this before and it terrified Y/n to even admit such things. “You just have to look inbetween the lines. You’re smart - so I guess I hoped you saw through them.” 

Wanda was too drunk to really recall anything. She wanted so badly to ask but was afraid of the truth. “Are you ready for the competition?” 

Looking back up, Wanda had scooted to the edge of the bed, her eyes connecting with Y/n. “I think so. Do you think you’ll win?” 

Pulling the duvet away from her mouth, Wanda looked away as she said, “If I don’t, I’ll just disappoint my father.” 

“You wouldn’t disappoint me.” Wanda looked back at Y/n. Had she not been drunk, the intensity of her words and stare would have made her combust. 

But as the long night finally reached Wanda, she suddenly fell asleep before she could respond back. “Nothing you could ever do would disappoint me, Wanda.”

Competition Day - Spring Semester

Waking up to the sound of her alarm, Wanda panicked at the time. Immediately rushing to brush her teeth and change her clothes, she rushed out of her dorm, almost forgetting the important papers for the competition. 

As she ran on to the bus, sparing ten minutes, she looked around to see that everyone besides two people were left. The migraine in her head was hard to ignore, regardless, Wanda was thankful that she made it on time. 

Soon, the remainder of the team hopped on board, choosing a free row for themselves. Since it was a four hour ride, Wanda didn’t bother lecturing the team this early about the competition. She could do that later. 

Finding a free row near the front, she sat down at the seat closest to the window. Cursing herself for even drinking so much, Wanda glanced over and noticed that Y/n was across from her. She had jeans and white shirt on with a weird stain at the bottom. 

Wanda almost wanted to yell at her for not being in uniform when she noticed that she was asleep. Feeling another headache, Wanda focused on trying to find medicine in her backpack, the events of last night gone from her memory. 

Taking an ibuprofen, Wanda pulled out her notes and studied some problems. And although she didn’t remember, the girl across from her did as she finally got some sleep, having been up all night making sure that Wanda was safe and sound. 

Chapter 3

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[wobblesthecowgirl]

Hii! I literally love your page so much! If you don’t mind, could you write an Arthur x Fem reader fluff?

So I was thinking, Arthur and the reader are close friends and she has feelings for him, like I mean she is HEAD OVER HEELS for him! But she thinks that he likes Mary-Beth or something and somehow he finds out about her feelings towards him and how she thinks he likes Mary-Beth and he confronts her and is like “I don’t like her I like you” and they kiss or something idk I JUST NEED HIM SO BAD RN😭

I Only Want You.

Arthur Morgan x Femreader

I apologise for the long delay! But thank you so much for your patience and request! I hope you enjoy it! And thank you so much for the love! <3

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“Why not write him a letter?”

Y/n was sitting on a log with Abigail under the sun, looking out to the beautiful scenery before them on the edge of the cliff. They were discussing Arthur, a common topic between the two, and Abigail was trying to convince her friend to finally confess.

“A letter?” She tilted her head.

Abigail nodded, “Yes! I mean, you love to write, and you’re too much of a baby to speak to him about your feelings. I think a letter is perfect. You can leave it for him without seeing his face.” 

Y/n thought about it and agreed it wasn’t a bad idea at all. She could sneak into Arthur’s tent with a letter telling him everything she’s always wanted to say, and wait for a response. So, she smiled and hugged her friend tightly, before standing up quickly and making her way to her own tent to begin writing. 

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This was harder than she thought. She assumed being able to sit and think carefully about what she wanted to say would be easy, but it just filled her head with more doubts. Before she could start her fourth draft, she heard a ton of horses outside and quickly hid the crumpled up pieces of paper. Most of the men were robbing a wagon and had just come back; from the cheers and laughs, she could only assume it went well. She got up from her chair and peeked her head out of her tent and almost screamed in surprise. Arthur stood right outside her tent.

“Oh! Mr Morgan, you scared me!” She laughed it off, a hand to her chest as he chuckled with her.

“I apologise, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I just wanted to tell you how the robbin’ went.”

“I assume it went well, given the smile on your face.” Y/n smiled as she looked around to the other men already cracking bottles of beer. The pair went quiet and the woman wanted to burst into a confession then and there. The sun was setting and it casted a orange glow to his face. His hat caused a small shadow over his eyes and his smile was small and earnest. The little wrinkles around his eyes and mouth only made him more attractive, and his moustache had been recently trimmed. 

“Well, I best get back inside now. I’m a very busy lady.” She excused herself. He smiled a little wider and watched her close the tent, almost disappointed with their short exchange. 

After their conversation, Y/n got back to her desk and this time, the words began to spill out onto the page with ease:

Dear Arthur,

Firstly, I must apologise. I am too much of a coward to face you, so I’ve resorted to writing this letter.

The truth is, I have fallen head over heels for you. You may not agree with me, but you are a good and genuine man. You’ve helped me in more ways than you could ever imagine. The day you rescued me from my burning horse from the O’Driscolls, I thought my life was over. But, to my surprise, it was the start of an even better life. I truly can’t thank you enough.

I don’t expect you to reciprocate these feelings, and that is ok. I wouldn’t want to ruin this friendship we have formed.

Yours, Y/n.

She kept re-reading it over and over again while a million what ifs ran through her head. What if he’s put off by the letter? What if he has someone already? What if he laughs at her? 

She shook her head. She had written it now, all she had to do was plant it in his tent and hide, wallow away in bed while her anxiety ate her up. She folded it and wrote his name on it before peeking her head out the tent again and tip-toeing to his tent. When she saw he wasn’t inside, she snuck in and placed the letter on his bedside table. 

Y/n felt satisfied with herself, until she saw a letter on his desk with the name ‘Mary Linton’. Her stomach dropped. Who was this Mary? Was she a lover? A relative? Feeling sick, she rushed out the tent, leaving her letter behind.

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“You alright there, Y/n?” Tilly asked her while she zoned out. It was now night-time, and her mind was eating her up all evening. The women were sat around the fire doing what they do best: gossiping. Of course, Grimshaw or Molly hadn’t joined them, but that was always the case. 

“Hmm? Sorry, yeah I’m good.” She brushed it off, taking a big swing of whiskey. The rest of her friends spared glances at one another. Karen piped up while also taking a swig of her own whiskey, “Yeah, I ain't buying that. You’ve been sulking all evening.” 

Y/n sighed and began biting her nails out of habit, wondering if asking them about Arthur was a smart idea. But she couldn’t keep letting the question eat away at her.

“Do any of you know who Mary Linton is?”

Mary-Beth looked surprised at the question, “Mary? You don’t know?”

Her stomach dropped again. 

“No I don’t.” 

Tilly shook her head, already feeling bad for her friend. Everyone but Arthur knew that Y/n had feelings for the older man, it was a miracle the man himself hadn’t figured it out. Tilly sighed, “She used to be his woman. About ten years ago now, but her daddy didn’t like him so it didn't work out. I keep telling him to let it go.” 

There it was. Her what ifs became reality. She couldn’t hide her disappointment and took another swig of the whiskey. And another. Then another one. 

“Slow down girl! You’ll end badly!” Tilly tried to grab the bottle out her hand but she moved it out of her reach. By now, Y/n vision was hazy and her head felt light. The smell of whiskey was strong on her breath but she felt a little more relaxed at least. 

“It’s obvious Arthur likes you back.” Mary-Beth tried to help her feel better, but all she did in response was roll her eyes.

“Oh please. Don’t get my hopes up.” She pouted as she finished the whiskey off. All the women were getting up and getting ready for bed but she decided to sit by the fire a little longer. Karen patted her back, “Please just take it easy. Get some rest soon.” And with that, she was left alone. She just stared into the fire, her mind restless, when she heard a twig snap. She snapped her head back and saw the root of her problems. He looked confused at her state. 

“Y/n? What are you still doing at this hour?” 

“Nothing.” She frowned, facing away from him, kicking a stone away despite being sat on the log. Arthur sat down next to her, his knee inches away from hers. 

“You smell of whiskey, doll. You been drinking too much to handle?” His voice was laced with concern, which only infuriated her more. Why care for her when he already had a woman he cared for? 

“Why do you care?” She sounded harsher than she meant to. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was her patience running thin. Maybe it was her disappointment. Either way, her response still shocked him. 

“Why wouldn't I?” He asked, and her heart kept sinking lower and lower. They fell silent, and Y/n heard him reach into his pockets and took out the letter. Her eyes widened as she tried to snatch it out his hands but he raised his arm higher. 

“Just leave it Arthur!” She shouted, still trying to grab it as he kept his arm in the air, a firm hand on her shoulder to push her lightly. 

“Why are you behaving like this? I just want to talk about it.” He tried to calm her down as she stopped prying at him. 

“I know about Mary.” She stated which caused his eyes to widen slightly. He glanced at the letter before folding it and putting it back in his pocket. 

“The women gossiping again?” He chuckled a little dry, so she only hummed in response. Their gossips were never wrong though, she thought to herself. 

“That's history, love. She was only writing to me to help her brother,  but I don't like her like I used to.” Arthur grabbed her chin much to her alarm, and gently turned her to face him, before brushing a strand of hair in her face out the way. 

That damn smile. 

“I love you too. I ain't need a silly little letter, you could've told me and I would've swept you up in a heartbeat.” 

It's like time stopped. The alcohol must've gotten to her head. She must've blacked out. Died even, and seen the pearly gates. 

But when he leaned forward, and softly kissed her, she felt more awake than ever. He pulled away before she could even react, and his face was bright red. 

“Was that a bad kiss? It looks like it was.” He coughed awkwardly. 

“No…no not at all. I'm just in shock. I didn't think you actually liked me.” 

He laughed light before leaning closer again, a hand on the back of her head, “I don't like you, sweetheart. I love you.” 

This time she kissed back, harder. Months of pent up tension between the two was finally being released. It was surprising the two didn't go mad.  

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They spent the rest of the night sitting next to the fire, holding hands, and Y/n rested her head on his chest as he held her close. His tumb traced her knuckles as she listened to his heartbeat. She felt protected, safe, warm, and comfortable. She could happily stay like that forever.

Unknown to the pair, the women of the camp were watching from a distance, with giant grins on their faces.

[lovedazai-archived]

1:04 P.M.

ft. jouno + gn!reader, hunting dog!reader

p.s.! this has been in my drafts forever omg…happy hunting dogs debut day to everyone with good taste !! kissing u hugging u etc etc !! ty to my love essie for helping me @haithamuse <3 stealing u from jouno for a sec, muah!

“who do you think you’re fooling?” jouno sighs, chin falling to the palm of his hand as his eyebrows furrow. “i can tell you’re exhausted.”

“i’m fine. i just haven’t had time to rest lately.” he can hear the pout in your voice and the light sound of wood hitting together from across the table; you’re fidgeting with your chopsticks.

“what about right now?” his hand falls to his lap as he straightens his posture, all too aware of the opportunity presenting itself. “it’s not like we have a mission.”

you and jouno were sharing lunch in the briefing room, consisting of only a large conference table and stiff office chairs. it wasn’t the best place to sleep, but he can’t ignore the sound of your muffled yawns anymore. you were so cute, trying to hide it from him, like he couldn’t see through your every movement.

“i don’t know…what if the captain sees?”

“i’ll keep watch,” he abandons his food to move to the seat next to yours, ignoring the stall in your heartbeat as he rests his hand on your head, urging you to relax against his shoulder. “stop making excuses and just go to sleep already.”

it’s quiet for a few moments as you sit still against him before you let out a little laugh, the sound pretty and soft in his ears.

“you’re being nice today, jouno.”

“i’m always nice,” he huffs, pushing the brim of your hat down, trying to ignore the feeling of you hugging his arm to your chest as you get comfortable. “i just don’t want you to…hold us back by passing out during training.”

it doesn’t take longer than a couple of minutes for your heart to slow down to a relaxed, steady beat, and he knows you’re asleep. just as he expected, you were exhausted.

he sighs, trying to remember the last time someone was so calm around him. the fact it’s you of all people makes something unfamiliar stir inside his chest. he’s so used to reveling in the agony of others, he almost can’t believe how much he’s enjoying this.

he’s always been a little more gentle with you, but he can’t help it. enveloped by the feelings and sounds grating on his senses everyday, you were always the one he sought out for a moment of relief.

he remembers the sarcastic “aww, how sweet,” you’d given him when he explained that you were simply less irritating to be around than everyone else, his way of complimenting you. the memory draws a small smile onto his face.

he wants to indulge in this moment and ingrain it into his mind forever. he doesn’t know when he’ll get the honor of being so close to you again. he wants to be greedy and stretch it out for as long as he possibly can.

except he can’t, because the door opens.

“oh, you’re here, jouno-san,” jouno digs his nails into his palms. of course, it would be tecchou of all people to interrupt this moment. “and…y/n-san, too?”

“don’t.” he grumbles through gritted teeth. he strains his ears, making sure you were still asleep, even if it meant tecchou’s annoying breathing was amplified too.

“don’t what?”

“don’t talk, don’t breatheーjust don’t be here! they’re sleeping. even you standing there is too noisy.”

he can sense the bothersome presence in the doorway trying to decide if he should get what he came for or leave. somehow, tecchou manages to make his mood worse by leaving; he closes the door a little too hard, and jouno frowns as he feels you startle against him.

“everything’s fine,” he says before you can ask. he pushes your head back to his shoulder with as much gentleness as he can conjure. “you can go back to sleep. there’s still a few more minutes before lunch is over.”

“mm,” you nuzzle into the fabric of his uniform. “‘m glad ‘cause you’re really comfy.”

“oh, am i?”

unfortunately, you’re already back asleep before he can milk anymore compliments out of you. comfy. no one has ever called him that before. he doesn’t know why anyone would’ve until now, but it makes his stomach flutter pleasantly nonetheless. if it came from anybody else, he probably would’ve scoffed.

he doesn’t know how long he sits there, simply basking in the feeling of being next to you. listening to the sound of your breathing and the blood in your veins felt so intimate, he didn’t even mind that you were drooling on his sleeve.

he’s so engrossed in you, he loses track of time. certainly the two of you will be late for training now, but he still can’t find it in himself to wake you.

he decides to wait until he hears the approaching footsteps of his co-workers when they inevitably search for the two of you to rouse you from your little nap. for now, he allows himself to savor the moment for a little longer. and maybe a little longer after that, too.

[cheolhub]

FORGIVE ME? ⌇MIN YOONGI ࿐

— PROMPT: in which yoongi needs you to forgive him for neglecting your sexual needs and saying things he didn’t mean. good thing he knows a perfect way to prove he’s sorry.

— PAIRING: yoongi x f!reader

— GENRE: hurt/comfort, established relationship, smut minors dni

— WORD COUNT: 2.87k

— WARNINGS: stress, overthinking, self-doubt, a bit angsty, yoongi being a bit careless w words— oral (f. receiving), pet names, praise, yoongi w long hair (🫣)(lmk if i missed anything)

— A. NOTE: long awaited… fun fact, this has been in my drafts since mid-july LOLOL anyways, hopefully you all enjoy <3

yoongi likes to think that he is a good boyfriend. at the very least, it’s what you deserve. he spoils you, pampers you, and loves you to the moon and back. you are the best thing life has had to offer him. he makes sure you know, too– endless praise, expensive gifts (that you’ve told him to stop buying), and mind-blowing sex. you name it and he’ll provide it. 

but yoongi has been stressed as of late. you can see it in his one-worded responses. you can see it in his constant straight facial expression. you can see it in how he’s been shrugging off your touch. it’s not you, he’d promised, but it’s hard not to think otherwise when he avoids you like the plague. 

you decide to take matters into your hands, his stress causing your unwarranted panic and your lack of attention has you worried beyond belief. 

you crawl to the edge of your shared bed where he stands and you sit on your knees. “yoongi…” you mumble, hands pawing at his belt. “hi… i was just waiting for you to come home,”

and god, you look so fucking pretty to yoongi. your pretty hair, your pouty, plush lips, your gorgeous doe eyes– everything is just so perfect. even still, he can’t seem to find the drive to give you what you need. a good orgasm. especially not today. not on this no-good, very bad day where everything has managed to piss him off. 

and god, you look so fucking pretty to yoongi. your pretty hair, your pouty, plush lips, your gorgeous doe eyes– everything is just so perfect. even still, he can’t seem to find the drive to give you what you need. a good orgasm. especially not today. not on this no-good, very bad day where everything has managed to piss him off. 

“It’s late, Y/N,” he sighs, hand pushing a strand of hair out of your face. “go to bed.” you frown, ignoring his words. you attempt to unbuckle his belt, but his hand catches your wrist. “baby, i don’t–”

you grow frustrated as he protests, “why?!” you huff out. 

he’s losing his patience, the rest of the day catching up with him as he’s kept it cool and collected for the entirety of it. “lose the attitude, Y/N, i’m tired and i don’t have time for this.” 

“this?” you scoff referring to yourself. your heart swells in your chest in the worst possible way, hoping he didn’t truly mean that. “yoongi, you have time for everything else but you don’t have time for ‘this?’ don’t have time for me?”

he sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose, “listen, i don’t want to fight, okay? i just want to sleep,”

“can you just–”

“Y/N! i don’t want to talk to you right now, alright?” he snaps and he can’t even think about the harsh words before they tumble out of his mouth. “stop being a fucking brat for once in your life, and just go to sleep.”

your eyes widen, never hearing such a tone from him. you feel your heart climbing up your throat and you can’t tell what you’re more upset about– the fact that you were brutally rejected or the way he thought you were some spoiled brat. does he really not want you? did he really think you were that much of a brat? is he completely revolted by you that he can’t even talk to you?

your mind was going a million miles per second, new profound insecurities appearing. you slowly retreat, muttering a soft ‘night’ under your breath as you go under the covers and turn off the lamp, leaving a now remorseful yoongi to stand in the dark. 

maybe it wasn’t working, you think to yourself. maybe it was you, perhaps you were too needy for his liking? the endless maybe’s pour into your head. the maybe’s that defended yoongi’s odd behavior and the ones that pit him against you. you then begin to wonder why he was coming home so late every night, why he was in such a bad mood with you, and why he hasn’t touched you in over a week. was he avoiding you? cheating? 

you tend not to overthink these things because yoongi reassure you how much he loves you without you even asking for it, but it’s been so long since you’ve even had a conversation with him. maybe… it is over?

and while the tears roll down your face, yoongi lies on the other side regretfully. the look on your face had his insides twinged. he feels sick knowing that you lay next to him, dejected and heavy-hearted, probably overthinking his behavior towards you. he wants to say something, anything… but he can’t find the coherent words to make sure you know he loves you more than anything.

so, he promises to make it up to you tomorrow.

+

you slept horribly, your mind overrode by last night's encounter with your boyfriend. you had decided to ignore your mind for the day and focus on comforting yourself in hopes that you’d forget about his harsh tone and snippy words and that frustrated face that you hope you’d never see again.

you don’t even realize the time you’ve spent curled up in front of the tv in your living room till you hear the front door open. you turn your head in shock noticing yoongi standing there looking at you. 

you want so desperately to say something, but all you can think about is how he shot you down. so, you simply turn back to the tv, pretending to be focused on that instead. you are hyper-aware of yoongi’s every move, though. 

“hi, baby…” he mumbles, closing and locking the door before he walks to the couch you’re on. “what are you watching?” 

you barely react, muttering ‘a k-drama’ under your breath, and yoongi’s heart breaks realizing you’re still upset from yesterday. 

“you’re home early,” you state, voice devoid of any emotion. 

he nods, “wanted to see you,” 

“well…” you chuckle bitterly. “here i am, your bratty girlfriend. i suppose you still don’t want to talk to me?”

maybe it was immature, but it’s the only thing keeping you from sadly cowering away from him.

“baby…” he pouts. “i didn’t mean that, okay? i’m sorry.” he sits next to you, before continuing. “i know i’ve been neglecting you, i’ve just been so stressed. you know if it weren’t for you i’d live in the studio,”

“is that what you prefer?… to live in the studio?” you ask meekly as if you’re scared of his answer.

he shakes his head incessantly, hands cupping your face, “no, never. i love you so much, too much. i really didn’t mean to snap at you last night, my love.” he whispers.

your heart rate quickens, looking at him with wide, doe eyes. your lips part to say something, but he speaks before you have the chance to.

“i wanna prove how sorry i am…” he trails off. “can i prove it to you, sweet girl?” his tone, now, is sultry and seductive and you can’t help but feel excited.

wordlessly, you nod in acknowledgment, your panties dampening by the second. when he flashes his teeth at you, you can’t help but shudder, enamored by all of his gorgeous features. 

he leans in to kiss you, his soft lips molding with yours for the first time in what feels like years. you take your arms, wrapping them around his neck to pull him closer to you.

he pulls back, “left you all needy for me, didn’t i, baby?” he mutters against your pouty lips. 

“mhm,” you nod again, mindless and in a daze with how his kiss made you feel.

“yeah? m’ sorry, sweetheart, gonna take good care of you, alright?” his hands slide down your face and neck, and chest before residing on your lower stomach. “gonna make sure you know truly how sorry i am,”

“yoongi,” you whine prettily. “please, need you so bad,”

he hums, urgently diving back into your lips, catching you by surprise. you gasp when his hand reaches your clothed core allowing his tongue to easily glide into your mouth. 

the kiss grows desperate, your tongues dance, and your teeth clash with one another. both of you breathing harshly as it feels like you’re about to swallow each other. 

yoongi’s hand vanishes into your lacy panties, dainty, long fingers easily finding your untouched clit. you whine when his index and middle fingers rub soft, feathery touches into the bundle of nerves. 

“fuck,” you moan into his mouth, eyebrows furrowing at the light touch. “m-missed you,” you manage to say against his lips. 

his lips move away from yours, placing wet, open-mouthed kisses on your jaw and down your neck till he finds you sensitive, little pulse point. your eyes screwed shut, moaning out his name as he nips and sucks on the soft skin. his fingers increase in speed and your body naturally arches at the action. 

your hand makes its way to his head, fingers carding through his soft, long hair. you whine softly, grinding into his fingers. “more…” 

he tuts, shaking his head in your neck. “uh-uh, pretty girl, stay still for me,” he whispers, his hot breath fanning against the pretty mark he’s made. he removes his head and hands and watches your face contort at the loss of contact and listens to your whimpers for his fingers. “shhh, baby,” he mumbles, taking the ends of your shirt and pulling it over your head and tossing it to the side. the deed leaves you near naked, all that’s left are your black lace panties.

he hums at the sight of your tits with perched nipples, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. you suddenly feel warm under his gaze closing your eyes and squirming as your cunt gushes again, further ruining the lacy material. 

“my gorgeous girl,” he breathes, hands finding purchase on your hips. your eyes open, following yoongi’s movements to see him kneeling in front of the couch between your legs. he presses a gentle kiss to your abdomen. his pecks trail down further and further till he reaches your covered mound. “missed this pussy more than you know.”

you feel your breath getting caught in your throat feeling his face so close to your soaked pussy. with a slight buck of your hips, you softly let out another whine, “yoongi, please… please do something, a-anything,” you plead, tears of need forming on your lash line. 

he smiles, beautifully much like he missed the way you beg for him, missed the way you got when you ached for his touch. 

he suddenly drags his tongue across your already-drenched underwear, soaking it further with his saliva. you gasp at the feeling, the warm muscle making its way up and down needily. “can taste you through your panties, baby,” he chuckles against you, the vibration making you squeak. 

“please…”

his cat-like eyes peek up at yours full of mischief before his hands trail down and pull your underwear off. he leans back so you have room to take them off, “lift up and get these off for me, sweetheart,” he says and you oblige quickly, slipping them off and throwing them near your shirt.

he inhales sharply when he’s met with your glistening core and your cute hole practically leaking arousal. he notices your squirming and he smiles again, “m’ sorry again, pretty baby, i’ll take care of you, yeah?” he hooks his arms under your knees and gives you a loving kiss on the inside of your thighs. “and make you feel good… can i do that?”

you nod heartily, chest filling with anticipation, “yes… yeah, please,” you sigh out. “make me feel good, need you to make me feel good, yoongi.”

with that, yoongi groans, nodding his head in compassion. scooting closer to you, he blows a cold breath to your swollen clit, basking in the way your entire body shivers at the feeling. his tongue then presses flat against your folds, the taste of your essence fuzzing his brain and causing blood to rush to his half-hard dick. 

you moan at the first contact, your hands slipping back into his now-messy locks. his tongue drags up and down your folds at an agonizing pace. you think he’s teasing till you hear his soft moan, “fuck, sweetheart… forgot how fuckin’ good you taste,” he murmurs against your sloppy core. “m’ gonna take my time with you, make you cum all over my mouth till you can’t take it anymore.”

at his words, you find yourself panting, your stomach filling with butterflies, and your head emptying of any rational thoughts. your eyes meet his again and you can’t help but whine at how pretty he looks in between your legs as he tongues at your cunt. 

“so pretty, baby, you’re so pretty– fuck!” you throw your head back with a tiny cry when his mouth wraps around your clit.

he hums, sending shockwaves through your body. his teeth graze against the sensitive bud before his tongue takes over, flicking over it at a pace that has you losing your goddamn mind. the arms he has hooked under your knees pull you towards him till there’s no gap between his face and your sweet sex.

you grip his hair tighter, letting a dry sob escape your throat. “y-yoongi! s-so good, so fucking good!” you manage to tell him, and yoongi beams. he squeezes the flesh of your thighs, fingertips gently dragging against your skin and you can’t help but feel warmer at the gesture. 

when he pulls off, his face dives deeper. his tongue now prodding at your sticky entrance and his nose bumping at your clit. the slight contact your clit gets from his bulb-like nose makes you arch your back again and push his head further into your cunt. you're almost sure he can’t breathe with the way he lets out a muffled, breathless moan into you, yet you can’t find the heart to stop when it feels fucking amazing.

you ease up a tiny bit before he laps up the everlasting cum that drips from your untouched hole. the lewd sound of his slurps and your wetness meeting his tongue almost make you feel embarrassed, but his pure desire in devouring you whole makes the feeling pass. 

it’s when he shoves his tongue in your hole as deep as he can when you scream. your thighs automatically move to cage his head in, nearly suffocating him in the process. he eats you out ravenously like he hadn’t eaten in days, and fuck, your pussy is the best thing on earth to him. 

“pussy was fuckin’ heaven-sent,” he moans against you again, his mouth moving aggressively once more. 

you, feeling an undeniable knot form in the fiery pit of your stomach, buck your hips into his face again. your cries and screams grow louder, mixing with the obscene sounds of his slurping as your grip on his hair is strong enough to rip from his scalp. he groans, but you pay him no mind, reveling in the sensations it sends through your on-edge body. you grind and grind, an obnoxious mantra of his name and curses belt from your mouth.

“yo-yoongiii! m’ so close, oh– fuck!” you mewl, eyes no longer on his gorgeous face as you’ve screwed them shut. “fuck, fuck, fuck! baby, d-don’t stop, please don’t stop!” your words drip with deprivation making him moan understandingly against you. 

you let out a squeak when it happens. your body convulses as the knot quickly unravels with yoongi still licking at your clenching hole, licking up all the viscid cum that you emit. your back arches as far as it can as you cry for him, and tears of overstimulation leak down your face. 

yoongi can’t help but ache himself at the sight of your gorgeous orgasm. your cute, contorted face with furrowed brows, your mouth ajar as the endless moans escape you, your twitching body making your perfect tits jiggle– it makes yoongi realize he’s taken you for granted. 

you finally come down a few minutes after your mind-blowing orgasm. with tears still looming at your lash line, you look at yoongi who’s untangling himself from your legs and rising to tower over your shaky, naked body. your eyes trail down from his body up to his face covered with a sheen layer of your arousal, ogling him hungrily.

your hand tugs at his shirt pulling him down to kiss you. you instantly shove your tongue into his mouth, offering the chance to taste yourself with a hint of his own taste. 

he parts a few seconds later, “you like the way you taste, pretty girl?” he whispers, hand cupping your warmed cheek. “i love it, you taste fuckin’ gorgeous,” he admits causing a soft and breathy moan to get caught in your throat. he smirks, arrogantly, “forgive me?”

“i forgive you…” you breathe, a cheeky smile on your face. “but you have to fuck me good, first.”

he gives you a toothy grin, ready to dive back into your lips before saying, “take me then, baby.”

© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

[aizawaskittenwhore]

august first—r. braun

summary: you fuck reiner as a birthday gift. that’s pretty much it.

notes/content warnings: rough sex, facefucking, degradation, choking, some angst cause relationships are messy, unprotected p in v sex cause we raw dog over here, armin is a sweetheart and eren needs to go to bed, i think i covered everything but let me know if i missed anythin!

this was meant to be a birthday piece for rei 😔*stares in september * to be completely honest i have zero idea how long this ended up being but it’s been taking up space in my drafts and i kinda freestyled it so enjoy sexies <3

the floor is sticky with liquor, limestone tiles splotched with little islands of red as reiner’s body meets it, it’s surface tacky beneath his flushed skin. his head lolls back against the dial of his dishwasher, seeming to relish in the surrounding moment. the apartment is quiet with the din of murmured voices, gentle rustling of keys , someone slipping on a jacket, a faint “who’s riding with jean?” uttered from one of the many intoxicated partygoers; as for who , he does not know.

all reiner is aware of is the thrum of his heartbeat in his ears, body warm with the coat of whiskey, the glow of his solar return pervading the sallows of his face from the previous year’s torment; as if filling a once-deflated balloon with air yet again.

confetti has woven itself into the carpet, solo cups littering the surrounding dining room, a cake still sits on the table, half-eaten. “happy birthday reiner” it read, for a total of ten minutes. only reiner’s name remains due to your insistence that the birthday boy should get to eat his own name, and in pure self-adoring leo fashion, he co-signed.

and there his name sits, beneath its hard plastic shell as his gifts are sprawled around, some big, some small; though reiner had insisted that presents weren’t necessary by any means, you all came together to at least get him a few things to remember the day by. and what a day it had been. he was grateful. and so, so drunk.

his body suddenly takes a dive to the right—he had failed to realize his passive swaying from side to side and lost his balance—his face finds itself directly in your lap, nose mere inches away from knocking over a rather tall bottle of grey goose lingering not too far from your current position. you’re not much better than he is, face flushed and your smile dazed, as you begin to card your fingers through his hair, seemingly unaffected by his sudden landing.

“hey, we’re gonna head out.” armin says, footsteps lightly sticking with every step he takes further into the kitchen. he grimaces at the noise, but says nothing, in favor of checking on the pair of you. yet before he can utter the words “are you guys alright?” a hefty grip on armin’s wrist from the stockier blond sends armin to his knees, discombobulating the shorter man momentarily before he was met with a fierce hug.

“thank you..for coming.” reiner had been struggling to properly pronounce his syllables since the fourth round of tequila shots with eren, but those four words were the most coherent he’d been all night. the sentiment wasn’t lost on armin, and he returned the embrace, even if his lungs felt the slightest bit compressed the longer they hugged. “n-no problem!” armin pats his back thrice and shifts his gaze to you once reiner pulls away and nestles into your lap yet again. “would you like a ride home? you and sasha live not too far from each other, so it’s on our way.” he offers, so thoughtful as always. you begin to nod your head, thinking of the throbbing sensation that’ll soon swim within your temples, your lack of a change of clothes, along with numerous other things—

“i don’t mind if you stay..” reiner mumbles, a hand swirling patterns into your thigh. “never have, you used to sleep over all the time. i still got your toothbrush, s’ in my bathroom” he’s drunk, there’s no nuance , it sounds so scandalous when he says it like that and yet your heart picks up when he says your toothbrush is still in your space in his bathroom. you contemplate his words, given that it’s two minutes shy of one am (from what you can make out via a blurred glance at the microwave), and it is rather late..

armin surveys the two of you with a knowing glance, choosing to once again say nothing. he’s always been one for reading between the lines, clearly there’s some unspoken tension between you and the birthday boy, a history even. “n-not like that.” you laugh, pulse quickening as you try to divert armin’s attention from reiner’s hand attempting to work its way up your thigh, minuscule movements of his hand feeling like leaps and bounds over your already heated skin. “there was a time where i was going through some shit, so reiner let me hang here for a little while. it’s not nearly as..uh..intimate as it sounds.” your voice is low, your head leaned towards armin.

“i don’t mind sleeping here though. it’s one in the morning, and you’ve already gotta take sasha and eren’s drunk ass home. i’ll be good here.” a smile, and a gentle hand on armin’s shoulder is enough for him to leave you with reiner for the night.

“text me if you need anything, okay?”

mikasa‘s jacket and eren’s vomit crusted dress shirt clink amongst armin’s keys as he makes his way to the door (the shirt is tied in a plastic bag, he’s not a psycho).

‘maybe the mad dog jello shots were a bit much’, you think, saying your goodbyes to everyone as they stumble down the remainder of the driveway, jean corralling each person into their designated cars, and silently regretting his decision to double up with armin tonight to drive. it doesn’t help that he’s shoeless, considering eren yacked all over those too. it’s not funny, but it is, and you laugh as the door clicks behind you.

parties have a very poignant atmosphere.

they fill the space and somehow suck the air out of it once it’s over. but what you feel right now has nothing to do with the party and everything to do with the tension between you and reiner. who seems to have disappeared from his spot on the kitchen floor and made his way to the shower, leaving behind a trail of clothes in his wake. his loft is spacious, open floor plans met with a man’s taste in furniture (which equates to the bare minimum, sadly) and sumptuous windows that stretch from floor to ceiling. it’s one way glass, can’t see in but you can see out, rather convenient considering reiner had a very bad habit of never wanting to wear clothes around the house. case and point, the calvin klein boxers strewn across his floor. ‘jesus, even when he’s drunk he’s a slob.’ you think, grimacing as you reach for them in an attempt to chuck them into the nearby hamper—

“sorry for the mess.” he mutters, stepping out of shower as a plume of steam clings to the nearby mirror. towel hanging from his waist, hair slick with water. the scent of his soap and deodorant envelop you as he walks past, rifling through his dresser in an attempt to find clothes for the both of you. from the quick glance at his figure you’d allowed yourself, you quickly deduce that reiner finally made good on that crossfit membership he’d been blabbing about for the last three months. he was always handsome, always with a body that looked like it was carved from stone but the torso you’re looking at (and shouldn’t be) has gotten a major upgrade. ‘this is a bad idea’ you think to yourself, wondering how you allowed a spur of the moment decision lead you back into a bedroom you swore you’d never step foot in again.

you weren’t lying to armin when you said that the conditions of you staying with reiner weren’t romantic, that part was true; but the last time you were in this house, this room, things weren’t exactly…platonic.

“i found these, pretty sure you forgot em when you were leaving.”

a grey t-shirt and a pair of panties plop onto the bed where you sit, and you cringe upon the realization that you’d even left anything here to begin with. he offers you a pair of his sweatpants to help preserve your dignity, but you decline, knowing there’s no way they’d fit you.

“you remember where the towels are, yeah?”

you nod. third door to the left, past the coffee maker.

“cool. use whatever’s in there, i don’t care. i’ll be in the living room, so if you need somethin’ just yell.”

you give him a thumbs up as you disappear into the bathroom, the humidity mimicking the haziness of your mind as it begins to wander, your hands slippery with soap as you run the cloth over the curve of your hip, the same way he did that night.

“fuckkkk.” the sight before you is delicious, blonde burrowing it’s way between your thighs as reiner tongues your clit; a man starved. lust has taken over the bedroom, coiling around the two of you and winding so tight you feel as though you might burst, but if this is what it feels like to be consumed, you don’t mind one bit. he’s rutting against the bed desperately, your moans sending him into a frenzy; his mouth pools with your essence and he can barely contain himself. he adds his ring and middle finger to the equation, sensing you need more, just the slightest bit extra to bring you to paradise and you keen with pleasure.

“don’t stop..m’ gonna cum..” you’re shaking now, thighs shuddering around his ears and your pulse begins to throb so hard you can feel it in your temples, each wave of dopamine crashing over you, into you; you’ve never gotten head like that before. trust, you’d remember if you had. his tongue wanders in the mess you’ve made between your legs, and his face is no exception. your slick glistens in the cropped cut of his facial hair, and before you can utter a word of embarrassment, his tongue is giving you a taste of what he’d worked so hard to pull from you. the kiss is filthy, lips slotted together with strings of saliva; they break like bubbles when you pull away for air.

“shit!” lost in reverie, you’d failed to notice the increasing temperature of the shower water until it scalds your skin, shocking you back to the present moment. soft linen wraps around your body, soothing the harsh burn, legs still shining with droplets as you towel off, noting that you smell just like reiner does; but you’d rather not ride that train of thought. you make your way to the kitchen for a glass of water, brow raising as you realize his slice of cake is missing.

“the fuck?”

“what’s wrong?” floats from the living room.

“the hell happened to your cake?” you peer around the corner, and find the answer to your question stuffing his face. “nevermind.” you laugh, taking a seat on the couch, a cushion separating the both of you. he gestures with his left hand, offering a fork full; you take it, given that you’re both still not sober and this slice of sponge cake is the closest thing you’ve had to food in the last few hours. buttercream icing coats the roof of your mouth and you moan in sheer joy.

“oh my god.”

“right? shits’ so good” reiner mumbles, already on his last bite. his eyes are closed in bliss and you can’t help but feel jealous, you ache to be the cause of his expression rather than some slice of confectionery. little do you know, when your head turns, his eyes rake up the expanse of your bare thighs, resolve crumbling little by little. you’re beautiful, beyond it. he fights the urge to caress you and settles for a loaded question:

“why’d you say that to armin?”

“say what?” you respond. you’re avoiding his gaze intentionally, you know exactly what he’s asking about, this just isn’t the time.

“that it ‘wasn’t like that’ when i said you could stay the night.” the fork clatters against the cardboard of the cake box, filling the silence for a second, but it does nothing to ease the awkwardness of this interaction. “because it’s the truth? i didn’t start staying here so we could be fuck buddies—“

“—but that’s what happened, right?”

“reiner. don’t start this again.” you warn, tone firm. it’s not that you don’t want to talk about this, it’s been weighing on your heart since the night you left, but what could you say? you were running from the problems in your relationship and escaped into the arms of someone you called a friend, and very quickly that became much more than a friendship. the man your boyfriend couldn’t stand became your shoulder to cry on, and dick to ride. and in the end, everyone got hurt. you included.

“how’s galliard?” his voice seems harmless, but you sense the smugness that lies beneath.

“really? now?”

“it’s just a question.”

a pause.

“i haven’t seen him since..you know. we’ve spoken though. he seems to be doing alright, i think.” you answer. you briefly remember a photo dump he posted coming across your feed, he was in the netherlands with his brother last you heard, but that’s as much as you know. you’ve kept your distance from your ex since the fallout of your breakup, and for good reason. considering the last time you’d spoken, he’d told you that he “hopes it was worth it” and that you were dead to him.

you couldn’t be mad. if the roles were reversed, you’d have probably said the same.

the relationship (despite its relatively short run of five months) was volatile, and galliard has never had a desire to communicate with people in a way that isn’t riddled with hostility and aggression. it was the source of many arguments, and “i’m sorry” voicemails. one night you got sick of it, the pettiness, tit for tat, the pointed indirect insults in front of friends, the building of resentment every day you stayed together; so you left, needing to clear some space in your already heavy heart. a bag hurriedly packed, you’d found yourself at the door of a friend who you knew would have questions, but would never judge.

but friends don’t do the things you have done with one another.

“why did you invite me tonight?” since we’re asking loaded questions.

the text came as a surprise, a simple invitation and an address linked in a text message: ‘hey. my friends are throwing me a birthday party tonight. my house. i was wondering if you wanted to come. it’s cool if not, here’s my address tho in case you forgot it’

“i wanted to see you.”

“bullshit.” you scoff.

“why would i lie? you know how i feel about you.”

a pause.

“prove it.” the reposado speaks for you now, and you’re feeling dangerously curious to see just how far reiner will go. intoxication makes for a great truth serum, you’ve learned. he balks at your challenge, pupils shattering and reforming all at once as he attempts to snap himself out of whatever daydream he’s conjured. it has to be, there’s no way you’re sat so prettily on his couch making “fuck me” eyes, with a sliver of your panties visible beneath that thin fucking shirt. it’s a dream. has to be.

a chuckle. “you’re fuckin with me, right?” reiner’s fidgeting slightly, trying not to draw your attention to his increasing arousal.

“not even a little bit.” you’re so close he can feel your breath ghosting along his lips, a hair away from unleashing the pent up sexual tension between the both of you, but you don’t move any further. “i feel kinda bad..you invited me to your party, and i didn’t even get you a gift.” you pout.

“you can make it up to me.”

he’s finally gotten the courage to make the first move, securing both hands around your waist and tugging you into his lap. your clit pulses almost rhythmically when your lips meet, and the noises he’s making aren’t helping. “take these off.” he groans, plucking the waistband of your panties. you oblige his request, but the cool air still makes you shiver when your back hits the couch, legs spread. his eyes rake up your body, once, twice, before his middle and ring fingers take their place spreading your lips; they trace circles around your clit once they’ve spread enough of your juices around to slicken things up, but he’s just getting started. all the little gasps and cracks in your voice drive him insane, and while reiner loves to tease, he couldn’t wait any longer to taste you. locking himself between your thighs, his arms securing your legs around his head, he makes sure to hold on to your hips when he begins to suck on your clit. there’s no running for you, not when you’ve been dangling this pussy in front of him all evening. his tongue is fluid, slippery when it strokes your sensitive nub from every direction, he’s everywhere and somehow you still want more. “feels so good..don’t stop—” you beg, hips bucking into his face. he loves seeing you so fucked out, so desperate to cum all over his tongue, it only encourages him more as his fingers curl against that spot that makes your vision dip, and you gush all over his lips and jaw. your face burns with arousal and mild embarrassment, but he couldn’t be more pleased.

“can’t believe you let me eat this pussy ..and you made me watch you cum all over my face…such a slut.” he mumbles, his tongue still running laps around your clit. still throbbing, still sensitive. your body shivers and shakes with the continuous sensation, but reiner couldn’t care less. he licks and sucks with reckless abandon for a minute or two longer, before finally detaching himself from you, and giving your body reprieve. you struggle to catch your breath, your attention now drawn to the tented fabric below reiner’s torso. knowing it’s a shitty thing to think of in the current moment, you can’t help but lament at just how much thicker he is than your ex.

then again, reiner braun has never been, especially physically, average.

you splay your hands across his length as he pulls you in, neurons firing when you taste yourself on his tongue. he groans into your mouth, his eyes fluttering when you’re stroking and twisting your hand like that—

a brief disconnection of your lips forces his eyes open, but it’s worth it when he gets to sear the mental image of you spitting into his dick into his eyelids for eternity. your hand strokes the hottest noises out of him, the schlick-schlick of your motions only getting faster when filth begins to pour from his lips.

“mhm. just like that—fuck, i missed my nasty girl.”

you don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on before. and that’s saying a lot, genuinely. your tongue winds around his tip, settling against the underside of his shaft as you descend; the remainder of his dick is in your right hand as you work him over. your efforts matter little though, as reiner has other plans for your tight, tight throat. his hand settles at the base of your neck, winding his fingers at the root of your hair, and grips. rocking you backwards and forwards, he bullies his cock into your throat, and he nearly cums when he watches your eyes well up with tears; at first you panic at the activation of your gag reflex, but your throat slowly relaxes once you realize resistance is futile.

“take it…ah, shit—just like that mama, feels so fuckin good..such a good girl when im fuckin your face” he praises through gritted teeth, pumping himself with your throat a few more times before stopping, and changing your position so that the two of you were in missionary. you’d be lying if you said it didn’t get you soaked whenever he’d handle you so roughly, the way your eyes would glaze over and your body would become completely pliant for him and him only. for him to be such a typically serious and quiet man, reiner was so mean, so cocky when he fucked; even teasing you for the way you whine when he puts the tip in: “what’s the matter? can’t take the real thing? i know it’s—”

he retreats, and slams back in, taking a ruthless pace. “a lot bigger than those little boys you whore around with.” he finishes with a whisper, folding your knees into your tits as he throws your legs over his shoulders. “m’ n-not a whore..” you whine, voice cracking.

“no? you haven’t seen me in three whole months, you come over for a few hours and the first thing you let me do was stretch out this tight little cunt.” he taunts, a thumb circling your clit. “y-yeah..m-missed you..missed this dick—“ you babble, eyes rolling.

“i know baby, i know, let me in, let daddy make you feel good.”

“j-just like that, fuck fuck fuck” you feel like you’re on the verge of collapse, his cock is pummeling it’s way into your stomach, his sweat is glistening in the glow of his lights and it’s taking everything in you not to beg this man to cum in you here and now. “only whores know how to take dick and still be able to beg for more.” he taunts, his little hair trick from before making an encore appearance as he forces you to watch yourself be debauched, a thick white ring forming at the base of his length like a badge of honor. he was fucking into you so fast and so deep it made you dizzy, but you were too far gone. “love when you fuck me like this’, love when you slut me out” you mumble, teetering on the edge of cumming, you’re so close you can taste it—

“fuck, you’re so fuckin’ nasty, such a good girl for me, always lettin’ me get my way.” reiner moans, a hand wrapped around your throat and a good squeeze has your vision exploding, you melt and your body goes limp, senses still firing off as he coats your insides with sticky white seed.

the aftercare is, to be real, half assed. you’re both exhausted, but reiner still makes sure you’re wiped down with a hot towel, and carries you to bed upon your insistence that you’d, quote, “love to enjoy the sleep part of being fucked to sleep”. you doze off quickly, and reiner follows suit shortly after; the both of you failing to hear reiner’s phone emit a soft ding!

eren 2:23am

you owe me that 20 dollars

your apple watch is still synced to my phone from leg day man…not judging tho. get in there soldier 🫡

[cityzenshark]

Terran Mirage with Malto Terrans -- Nightshade

1 - Hashtag | 2 - Twitch | 3 - Jawbreaker | 4 - Nightshade | 5 - Thrash

Disclaimer: This is a fanfic, don't take it seriously with the canon.

[A.N: Uploading this early because it's dusting in my drafts for too long.]

“Do you miss your protoform body?”

It was a strange question to ask, not one Nightshade would ask in front of their siblings; in front of Jawbreaker especially. But the question has been lingering in mind and it eventually spilled when Nightshade was alone with Mirage Diaz in the dugout. They shouldn’t have said it out loud to Bumblebee a few days ago, neither did they want Wheeljack to overhear.

How did Mirage handle his alt mode when he first transformed? Was his alt mode chosen by accident like how Twitch got hers, or did he choose it for the sake of his human sibling like what Thrash did? Did he feel afraid being in a different form all the sudden? Did he miss the time when there were no tires on his back and feet? So many questions they want to ask him… But Nightshade feared that they might make the guest Terran uncomfortable.

Mirage’s answer surprised them: he does miss his protoform body.

“I miss lying down on my back without my tires taking up extra space, and how the seat made it impossible to lie down on my back comfortably,” Mirage explained. “I miss ducking into doors and not get stuck; sit around a group without my feet tires dirtying someone’s clothes. I really miss where my metal body didn’t cause damages just by bumping into them.”

Yet, Mirage loved his alt mode. He felt more confident than ever after gaining it. If only Nightshade could understood the desire.

“I don’t want an alt mode,” Nightshade blurted out.

“Why not?”

“I… I’m not sure…”

Would the Mirage understand how overwhelming Nightshade felt with all the knowledge they had gain in just their fifth day alive? They have no idea why and how they managed to understand the complexities of science in one read yet was slow to understand the emotions coming from themselves and the link with their siblings. The way they all look at him when he found inventing more fun than playing was … upsetting.

Nightshade wasn’t ready to see the Maltos, Twitch and Thrash as family. They tried to talk with their triplets about it, but Hashtag quickly got close with Twitch while JB with Morgan. Thrash was too pushing but, again, Nightshade feared their expression might mean wrongly to their ‘big brother’ so they keep quiet. Perhaps Wheeljack would listen, whenever the veteran scientist was available again.

Stop! They shouldn’t bother the guest with their personal problems.

“Would you like to help me solve this story?” Nightshade quickly grabbed a tablet showing a mystery novel they’ve yet to solve.

“Solve a story?”

Nightshade explained how this style of mystery novel worked and successfully got Mirage intrigued. “Sure!” It was as if Mirage knew that Nightshade didn’t want to talk about it anymore, and the two had fun together. Then it became a routine so Nightshade would take breaks in between inventing.

[pic]

Ever since the incident with Tarantulas, Thrash no longer hid his disdain towards Mirage. Nightshade have heard why Thrash was distrustful towards Decepticons but why was he treating Mirage as if he were this ‘Swindle’?

“Your ‘Con didn’t friend tell you?” Thrash asked after Nightshade pulled him into the woods to talk privately regarding Mirage.

“His name is Tarantulas,” Nightshade replied patiently.

Thrash rolled his optics. Nightshade felt a tick within themselves. “The guy knew an Autobot Mirage. Same name, same look as this Mirage. Did he tell you that?”

An uncomfortable feeling crept up. Nightshade forced calm on himself. Thrash had heard Tarantulas telling Mirage of an Autobot Mirage who had betrayed the Autobots and vanished sometime before the Battle for the Allspark. Nightshade knew of this already but Tarantulas never believed Autobot Mirage was a traitor. In fact, the spider-former admired the missing Autobot and hoped he’s still alive. It seemed Thrash didn’t eavesdrop long enough.

“He’s not a Terran, Nightshade. He’s not one of us. Stop reading the mystery books with him until we know what’s up.”

Nightshade did not like the sound of that.

“Since when is there an ‘us’ and ‘him’? As far as we’re aware, there are only six Terrans in the world and we are all that. Thrash, please don’t split us up just because one of us had similarities with a Cybertronian who share name and looks. There could be a Nightshade of Cybertron out there, or another Thrash, or—"

“But we don’t know that.”

“Exactly!” Nightshade snapped (to their own surprise). “We don’t know everything about ourselves yet, so stop bullying Mirage just because he might be different!”

[pic]

Silence swept between them. Thrash looked at them as if Nightshade had hit him. Betrayal pulsed through their link.

“You don’t trust your own big brother, ‘Shade?”

“Of course I do, but you must stop assuming the worst of somebody all the time.”

Nightshade trusted their big brother. They love him. He was family. Mirage may not be family but he was Nightshade’s first friend. He was just as important to them.

Nightshade didn’t think Thrash would go this far. It was unintentional – self-defense. But their smart mind stubbornly refused accept it.

“Why, Thrash? Why did you do this to my friend?” Nightshade screamed internally as they held Mirage’s greyed, lifeless hand.

[pic]

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.

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[kennarose1108]

Joel Miller x Reader !GUILTY!

*I KINDA HATE THIS STORY BUT I SPENT A LOT OF TIME WRITING IT SO I DECIDED TO POST IT INSTEAD OF KEEPING IT IN MY DRAFTS... ENJOY&lt;3*

This was new to him. New to both of you… But he wasn’t handling it well. He didn’t like the responsibility of you. He pushed everyone away and kept them a arms length away.. But somehow you were able to wiggle yourself deep into his heart. Further than anybody has since the apocalypse started.

But even though it was nice having a partner again he kind of hated it. He hated worrying about you, he hated feeling like you had to rely on him for everything (even though you told him you didn’t need to rely on him), and he hated the thought of something ever happening to you. He didn’t know what he would do if you got infected, killed… Or if you even died of a natural cause. The though just haunted him, and he hated it. So… To get you back at arms length he decided to push you away.

He had been ignoring you the last few days and it was driving you crazy. When you tried speaking to him he just grumble or grunt at you before walking off. You were confused on what you did wrong.

And the shared home you two had felt lonely and quiet because he was working so late and getting up so early. He was avoiding you, and you wanted to know why. So you waited for him. You were exhausted but you waited for him. It took a long time but he finally came home. You were sitting in the Livingroom and you watched him take off his jacket before making eye contact with you. “Joel. Sit.” You ordered. He looked away, “I’m tired.” Wow. He speaks. Granted it was only two words but it was the most he said to you in days. “I don’t care. Sit.” You ordered. He sighed and looked around for a moment, taking off his gloves and putting it in the pockets of his jacket that he just hung up.

He decided to lean against the doorframe and you scoffed. “You… You are a stubborn man.” You say while shaking your head. Normally he would’ve shot a remark back, saying something on the line of ‘is that really a shock’ or ‘you’re just finding this out’… But he kept his mouth shut and he continued to stare at you.

And because of him standing you decided to stand up yourself. You took a few steps towards him, still keeping a distance, and you cross your arms over your chest. “What’s going on?” You ask. “Nothing.” He says with a blank stare. “Bullshit.” You snap. He continued to stare at you blankly. “You’ve been ignoring me for days. It’s like you want nothing to do with me.” You say with a sad shrug. “Is there something going on with you? Did I do something wrong?” You ask. He sighs and looks down, “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I just don’t want anything to do with you?” He asked, still staring at the floor. You stare at him wide eyed, this wasn’t Joel… Why was he acting like this? “Huh?” “Have you even thought that maybe I’m avoiding you is because I don’t want anything to do with you? That maybe I’m not in love with you anymore?” His voice was rising and your heart began to race. “Or maybe I wasn’t in love with you in the first place.” He mumbled, finally looking at you. You paused for a moment before letting out a shaky breath, “Joel.. This… This the part where you apologize.” “No this is the part where you leave.” Your heart dropped. He was kicking you out? “And go where?” You ask. You had no where else to go. “There’s a blizzard outside.” You say while pointing to the window.. “Not my problem.” He answered.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You ask, tears welling in your eyes,

No, no this wasn’t right. He was going too far. He was pushing you away too far.. But it was too late. The damage was already done. He swallowed the lump in his throat and continued to give you his famous blank stare. You scoff as a tear fell from your eye. “Fuck you.” You say in disbelief. You walk over to the front door and threw your coat over your body and quickly put on your boots. You took one last look at him before you left. He was standing in the same spot, he hadn’t moved. You shake your head before storming out of the house, his heart following you close behind.

You walked around the city, not knowing where to go or what to do. But you knew you had to get out of there. You ran over to the stables and saw Tommy coming out with one of his lookout buddies. You hop onto a horse and start to charge for the gates as they closed. “Y/N? Y/N?!” Tommy tried stopping you, he knew you were going to die if you left. But as the gates closed you managed to fit the gap right before they shut. “Shit… Shit!” Tommy yelled.

When you thought you were safe you slowed your horse down and it started to walk. It was freezing, and you started to regret your decision. You turned your head, then again, and again. Where did you come from? Panic rose in your body, you were lost. In a blizzard. You had no idea where you were. The tracks your horse left behind were already filled. The only thing you could do was go in the direction you thought was right and hope for the best.

Your horse walked for awhile, you felt bad because you knew it was freezing. And just as things couldn’t get worse you heard loud screaming… But it wasn’t of a person. Right in front of you saw a runner charge towards you. You turn your horse around and tried going in the other direction, but more and more runners showed up.

You were surrounded..

Joel felt his heart break when you left. He didn’t want to take it that far but he did. He slowly walked over to his couch and sat down, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. He held onto his head and fought off the urge to go after you. He wanted to. Every fiber in his body was screaming at him to get off this couch and go after you. But he didn’t. He thought this was for the best.

He didn’t know how long he was sitting there but the sound of his front door slamming open brought him back to reality. “JOEL?” Tommy called before he saw his brother in the Living-room. “Joel. Fuckin’ Y/N ran out of the gates before they closed.” Tommy says, huffing and puffing the process since it was obvious he ran here. Joel’s heart sank as he stood onto his feet. “What?” “No time to explain. We need to find her before she gets herself killed.” Joel nodded, not wanting to waste anytime. He grabbed his goat and followed his younger brother to the stables.

Both Joel and Tommy got onto their horses and ran through the gates that were slightly open again just for them. "Shit there's no tracks!" Tommy yelled through the sounds of wing whistling through the air. "We'll find her!" Joel called. You wouldn't go far, you never went far.

Him and Tommy rode through the snow but Joel suddenly stopped. "What?" Tommy says. Joel nodded his head towards what he was looking at. Tommy's eyes land on a puddle of cold, fresh blood. It was easily five, ten minutes old as it was only now starting to freeze over. The warmth of the blood probably kept it exposed for this long. Both Tommy and Joel's heart was racing. "We gotta find her.." Joel mumbled, he wasn't even sure Tommy could hear him but he had to say it for himself too. Joel followed the droplets of blood, them getting from smaller to bigger. He was getting close, he just knew it. He followed the blood until Tommy stopped him, "Joel. Look." He says. Joel looked where Tommy was pointing to see a huge chunk of snow that was dark red. There was something under it.

Joel looked up and saw the snow on top of the mountain edge had fallen onto this. He quickly hopped off his horse and ran towards the lump. "JOEL! Shit." Tommy yells while trying to get his brothers attention. Joel ignored him and ran towards the lump in the snow. He fell to his knees and started to tunnel through the snow. Thank god he had his gloves on, otherwise he would've frozen his hands off.

As he tunneled through the bloody snow he was just hoping, praying, you weren't under it. He finally made it to the body underneath, and thank god... It was the horse. He sighed in relief but he saw a hand of a runner twitching under the snow. He backed off and looked over the landscape.

"Jesus... It's mutilated. Is she around?" Tommy asks. Joel looked around, "Y/N?!" He called. He continued calling for you, he screamed out your name hoping for a answer back.

And then he heard it... "Joel?" The sound of your voice echoed through he trees, you weren't able to yell loud. When you heard Joel yelling for you, you were barely clinging onto life. Your hands were numb from the lack of gloves and you could barely feel your feet and legs. You were still moving though, still fighting to live. But you were growing tired and your body was giving out on you. But when you heard Joel yelling for you, you felt a sense of hope.

You turned to the voice, it was coming from where you came from. You started to call for him and dragged your feet through the snow to get to his voice.. But then you collapsed. You then took what felt like your last breaths. Your body was cold and numb and you couldn't move... But you managed to mumble out one last thing..

"Joel.."

When Joel heard you yelling for him back he continued to call for you, before sprinting in the direction of your voice. Tommy groaned and tried calling after Joel, but Joel didn't listen. He yelled for you and you yelled back... Until you didn't. He began to panic more and he continued to run.

He then stopped when he saw your lifeless body face down in the snow. When he started running again he slid on his knees as he fell to the ground next to you. "Y/N?" He says while rolling you over onto your back. Your skin was pale and your lips were a light shade of blue. He pulled you close and held you in his arms. He moved his ear down to your cold lips and he paid close attention. He heard Tommy showing up behind him on his horse, Joel's horse following close behind as Tommy held onto it's lead. Joel shuttered, but not from the cold. "She's not breathing." He says in a voice of panic. He laid you down on his lap and started to take off his gloves. "Get her warm. Get her blood pumping." Tommy ordered. Joel put his gloves onto your freezing hands and he quickly took off his jacket and putting it on over your body. When he felt your skin it didn’t even feel human anymore.. It didn’t feel like you anymore.

He picked you up and carried you bridal style. He got onto his horse with you in his arms. "We need to get her to the infirmary." Joel yells before his horse took off. He held your head close to his chest, hopefully his body heat would help. When they made it back to Jackson he didn't bother getting off his horse, he proceeded to ride on his horse until he stopped in front of the infirmary.

He hopped off his horse, you still in his arms, and he ran inside of the infirmary. He begged for help, yelling at the top of his lungs that you weren't breathing. The nurses and doctors scrambled to help you out. A nurse lugged out a metal table and told him to lay you onto it.

He did what he was told and the nurses scrambled to get blankets and things to warm you up. Joel was so invested on what they were doing that he hadn't even realized Tommy was behind him. "Joel. Let's leave them take care of her alright?" Tommy says while touching his shoulder. Joel nodded and he followed Tommy out onto the porch of the infirmary.

Two hours went by and the word spread around that you weren't okay. Soon Ellie, Dina, Jesse, and Maria showed up. Everyone was pacing around the porch, all besides Joel. He was sitting down, his face buried in his hands.

"What's taking so fuckin' long?" Ellie hisses. "It takes time Ellie. Be patient." Maria says while touching her arm. Joel was getting antsy too even though it didn't look like it. He was honestly thinking the same thing, what was taking them so long?

And just as he was about to snap the door to the infirmary opened. Joel looked up to make sure it was a nurse and when he realized it was one he jolted out of his seat and walked over to her. "Is she alright?" He asked in a panic. "She's stable. Whether we know she's alright or not we still don't know. But she's alive." The nurse says with a nod. It was a relief, but Joel was still slightly confused. "What do you mean 'you don't know'?" He asks. "Time will tell. She could have issues we wont be able to detect until she's awake and can answer our questions. Her hands and feet are twitching which is a good sign." They explained.

"But when you brought her to us she had already been dead for a few minutes. She wasn't breathing and her heart had stopped. That alone could cause severe psychical and psychological trauma. And she also had hypothermia which could possibly give her brain damage." They explained. "You all can see her. Just... One at a time." They explain before stepping inside of the building.

Joel hung his head low, "Y'all go first I'll.. Go last." He walked back over to the seat he was in and sat down. “Joel she doesn’t want to be around us… She wants you-“ “Ellie, please.” Joel says while interrupting her. She frowned and shook her head. “Fine.” She huffed.

As time flew by every person had their turn and now it was his. He took a gulp before going into the infirmary. When he made it to your room his eyes scanned the place until his eyes fell on you. You were in a bed this time. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He walked over to you and looked at you. You looked so so much better. Your skin had some color to it and your lips were still slightly pale but they weren’t blue, which was a good sign. You had heavy blankets over your body and a hot wash cloth over your forehead. Joel could see from the collar of your jacket that you were still wearing his jacket.

He hadn’t even noticed how cold he was until he remembered he gave you his jacket. But he didn’t mind nor was he taking it back anytime soon. He grabbed the chair that was next to your bed, which he was sure everyone sat in beforehand, and sat down. He watched you for a moment, he felt like absolute shit.

He then snuck his hand under your blanket and rested his hand on yours. Your hands were warm.. Different than before. Before your hands felt cold and stiff, and now they were warm and soft like they usually are. Your fingers twitched under his hand and he remembered what the doctor said, ‘Her hands and feet are twitching which is a good sign.’ But it still didn’t feel good. He felt horrible it came to this. Horrible that because of him you ran off and almost died.

Joel moved his hand away and rested his elbow on the armrest of the chair and placed his cheek on his closed fist. He watched you until he felt himself falling into a deep sleep.

A few more hours went by and you started to stir in your sleep. You opened your eyes and cringed away from the light shining above your head. You covered it with your forearm before taking in the smell of your surroundings.. It smelled like… Medicine? You look sit up slightly and notice you’re in the infirmary. Then the memory of what happened flooded back into your mind. You were almost dead… Or did you die? You couldn’t remember. You turned to the window and saw it was still dark out. You then realized you weren’t alone in the room as you heard light snoring behind you. You turn your head to see Joel sleeping in the chair next to your bed.

The last thing you remember was Joel calling for you before you collapsed. He saved your life.

Not wanting to wake him, you slowly moved your legs from under the blanket and you swung them over the edge of your bed. You felt weak and you knew walking wasn’t going to be easy. So you slowly moved your feet onto the ground and you tried your best to stand up. You wobbled around and groaned at the full body pain you were experiencing. Your muscles and joints were so sore.

When you regained some balance you nodded your head. You mumbled some praises to yourself and took a deep breath. You went to go and take a step but your leg could barely touch the ground before your other leg gave out on you.

Your body hit the ground with a loud thud and you coughed as you felt the wind get knocked out of your body. “Ow..” You say with a groan. You then felt a pair of hands gently grab your arms and lift you up off the ground. “Why the hell are you up?” Joel hisses. “I was going to go and tell a nurse I’m breathing.” You say. “You could’ve woken me up.” “Didn’t want to. You needed the sleep.” You say as Joel helps you back onto the bed. “I’ll go get the nurse.” He says, not even looking you in the eye. He walks out of the room and you frown.

You were convinced he was like this because of the things he said earlier. That he doesn’t love you but still feels a responsibility for you. After a minute Joel comes back in with a nurse. “How are you feeling?” She asks. “Achy.” You answered with a shrug.

After the nurse was finished examining you she said to just lay back and rest and she’ll check on you in a few hours. So she left you and Joel alone.. To sit in awkward silence.

But you had a question. One that was bothering you when you first woke up. “Joel.” He nodded his head towards you, indicating he was listening but he still didn’t look at you. “Did you mean it?” You ask. “Mean what?” He asks. “That you don’t love me..?” You ask in a low tone of voice. You sounded pitiful as you were trying to hold back tears the best way you could.

He continued staring at the floor and he furrowed his eyebrows. “That’s what you’re thinking about? You almost died.. And that’s what you’re thinking about.” He scoffed at you. “Actually you did die. Does that not bother you?” He asks while shaking his head. “Yes. But I’m alive now. So it doesn’t matter.” “It does matter-“ He snapped, but he stopped himself. “He continued staring at the floor and he furrowed his eyebrows. “That’s what you’re thinking about? You almost died.. And that’s what you’re thinking about.” He scoffed at you. “Actually you did die. Does that not bother you?” He asks while shaking his head. “Yes. But I’m alive now. So it doesn’t matter.” “It does matter-!“ He snapped, but he stopped himself.

“I’m gonna go…” He goes to walk for the door but you gasp, “Wait! Wait!” You lunge forward in your bed. Joel stops and he finally looks at you. He sees the panic in your face and he starts to cave. “Please… Please don’t go." You begged. Joel hesitated, he glanced at the door before looking back at you. He looked down and nodded before walking back over to the seat he was in and sat down.

Awkward silence filled the air and you stared down at your still gloved hands. You didn't know what to say... But he did. "No." You looked up at him. "No what?" You ask. "No I didn't mean it." You stare at him for a moment before looking back at your hands. "Then why did you say it?" You ask. When he didn't answer you sighed in frustration, "Look I think I deserve the right to know." You say while rolling your eyes. "I wanted to push you away." You scoff, "Why?" "For reasons like this." He says with his voice slightly rising. "I don't understand." You say while furrowing your eyebrows in confusion and frustration.

"I'm not used to someone being this close. And the thought of losing you scares me." He admits. You sit there dumbfounded. A part of you wanted to sympathize with him, but the other part knew you couldn't. "So you treat me like that because you're afraid...?" You mumble.

"No. No you don't get to push me away because you're afraid." He sighed, "Y/N-" "NO!" You shout. "You think I'm not afraid? Every time you go out on lookouts I expect a knock on my door telling me you're dead." You voice began to crack at the sudden rise in emotion in your body. "If it's not runners or clickers I'm worrying about it's the enemies you've made. You have a huge target on your back from all the shit you did when you brought Ellie across the country." You say as tears fell from your eyes. "But I don't give up. Even when I'm afraid. Because if I gave up, if any of us gave up... We'd have nothing. And we'd make no progress." You shake your head and look down at your bed. "And it's okay to be afraid. But you should be able to tell me your fears instead of just giving up." You wipe your tears and sigh in frustration.

Joel was silent. He was processing what you were saying, but of course... You were right. As always. When he didn't answer quick enough you scoffed, "If you wanna leave just go. I'm not stopping you this time." You turn your head to the side to make sure he doesn't see you at all.

Joel sighs before getting up out of his chair. He walked over to your bed and sat down down next to you. He wrapped one of his arms around your shoulders and pulled you close. "No.. I'm not letting you go this time." He says. You rest your head against his chest and he places a kiss on the top of you head.

"I'm sorry."

MASTERLIST

[morri-draws]

Gwaine x Reader - 'The Threads That Bind Us' - Chapter 13

Story Summary:

You, a humble dressmaker from Camelot’s lower town, are commissioned to make a new gown for Queen Guinevere. Impressed by your skills, she offers you the position of Royal Clothier. During your time in the castle, you catch the eye of one of the knights of King Arthur’s inner circle, Sir Gwaine. What starts as a sweet courtship is turned upside down when misfortune strikes and you must deal with the aftermath, as well as an unwelcome visit from Gwaine’s unpleasant sister.

Rating: Mature

Tags: Female Reader/Gwaine, set between seasons 4 and 5, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

Words: 3,795

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9

Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Read on Ao3

The next morning after breakfast, you draft a pattern for your new gown, then start making a mock-up. By sunset, the mock-up is sewn and has been tried on about four times, adjustments being made in between, until at last you are happy with it.

The next day, you cut the pattern pieces from silk and begin sewing the proper gown, working non-stop after breakfast until you are interrupted by a knock at your door. You put down your needle and cross the room, opening the door to find Gwaine looking back at you.

“You’re up and about!” You exclaim.

“And glad of it too. I was beginning to wonder if one could die of boredom,” He replies. “Anyway, want to walk down to the market with me and get some lunch?”

“Isn’t it a little early for lunch?”

Gwaine quirks a brow. “I don’t believe so. This is about the usual time,”

“I’m sorry, I’ve been so focused, I didn’t realise how much time has passed,”

“You’ve been working? I thought you’d finished the king and queen’s attire?”

“I did. I’m working on something for myself,”

“For the feast?”

“Yes,”

Gwaine peers over your shoulder. “May I see?”

“No, you may not,” You give a sly smile as you close the door a little, so it’s just wide enough for your face. “I want it to be a surprise,”

He crosses his arms. “Now you’ve got me curious,”

“Well, you’ll have to be patient,” You smirk. “Wait here. I’ll just grab my shawl and then we can go,”

~

Gwaine asks you to show him where you bought the pies for the indoor picnic, so you lead him to the shop and he purchases one for each of you. You sit on a bench just outside the shop to eat them, before heading back up market street. Gwaine seems to take an interest in the market stalls, his eyes darting over their wares.

“Looking for something in particular?” You ask.

“Hmm?” Gwaine snaps to attention. “Oh, not really. Just taking in all that our glorious city has to offer,” He grins.

You continue up market street at a leisurely pace, allowing yourself time to peruse since Gwaine seems to be doing so.

“It’s so good to see you up and about again,” You say once you reach the end of the traders’ stalls. “Does your wound still cause you any pain?”

“Occasionally, if I move a certain way,” Gwaine replies. “But it’s mostly alright,”

“I’m so thankful Merlin helped,” You sigh, dreading to think what the outcome may have been if he hadn’t.

“Merlin?” Gwaine frowns. “It was Gaius who healed me,”

“He did initially, yes. But whatever he was doing wasn’t working fast enough. Him and Merlin argued about how to treat you, and Merlin had to apply his remedy behind Gaius’ back,”

“Well, I’ll make sure to thank Merlin then,” Gwaine smiles. “Sounds like you were quite the regular visitor to my bedside,”

“Of course I was, I was worried sick! I… thought you might die,”

Gwaine halts and takes your hand in his, giving it a firm squeeze. “It means a lot that you were there with me,” He says seriously, before smiling. “But it’ll take a lot more than bandits to get rid of me,”

Your hand remains in his as you continue up the street.

“Merlin said you tended to me while I was unconscious, helped keep my fever down,” Gwaine says.

You nod.

“Spent a lot of time seeing me shirtless,” He smirks.

Your cheeks flood with warmth.

“Did you like what you saw?” Gwaine asks, eyes twinkling with mischief.

You give him a playful shove. “Being improper, and fishing for compliments,” You shake your head, but can’t hold back a smile. “I shan’t say anything,”

“I shall take that as a yes,”

“You’ll do no such thing!”

You continue walking, biting your bottom lip to hold back your grin, while Gwaine keeps step beside you, looking very amused and pleased with himself.

It’s not until you arrive at your chambers that you realise your hand remained entwined with Gwaine’s the entire way back. He unthreads his fingers and hooks his hand under yours, raising it to his lips. He plants a soft but lengthy kiss at the base of your fingers, his eyes locked onto yours. Your heart thumps as you hold his gaze, a flare of desire tearing through your body. He pulls his lips away and he lowers your hand, but still holds it in his.

“I shall leave you to your secret business now, my lady,”

At last, he pulls his hand away from yours, agonisingly slowly, so his fingers caress your skin from your palm to your fingertips, until the contact is finally broken. Heat pools in your core, the skin on your hand buzzing, as if it can still feel his touch. Gwaine gives you a warm but slightly mischievous smile, as if he knows exactly what kind of reaction he has stirred within you, before he turns and heads down the corridor, disappearing around a corner. You step into your chambers, resting your back against the door as you close it behind you, relishing the pleasant sensation coursing through you. You raise your hand to your face, the feeling of his lips still lingering on your fingers, and press it against your cheek, longing for more of his touch. You recall the long talk between you those days ago, the feeling of his arms around you when you were upset, and wish for him to hold you again, but in a moment of joy rather than sorrow.

You stand with those feelings for a time, unaware how many minutes have passed, until your heartbeat settles and you come to your senses. You must refocus your thoughts. You have a lot of work to do before the feast.

~

You spend the last few hours of daylight sewing before stopping to make dinner. Your thoughts remain on the gown as you eat, visualising it finished and how you will look in it, but your imaginings stop short at one detail: your hair. What are you to do with it? You can’t wear your cap to an event like this. Not only is it inappropriate for the occasion, it will completely ruin the look. But your hair length is also inappropriate for any occasion. You would be gawked at and you’d be an embarrassment.

Once you’ve finished washing up, you go to your bedchamber and sit in front of the mirror, unpinning your cap and removing it. Your hair has grown some since it was cut, but nowhere near enough to be socially acceptable. Your mood darkens as you wonder if you should bother continuing with the gown, and the part of you that still fears Gwaine will find your true appearance repellent rises to the surface.

You stare back at your reflection, hair flat and frizzy from being under the cap all day. You tear your gaze away, fists clenched, and prepare for bed.

~

You continue on the gown the next day, though your mind drifts and progress is slow, since your previous ambition has dwindled. As your length of thread is running short, you finish your current line of stitching and fiddle with the needle between your fingers, trying to decide whether you should rethread it or stop for the day, when there’s a knock at your door. Placing the needle down, you stand and cross the room, opening the door to find Gwen.

“I just thought I’d check in,” She smiles. “I haven’t seen you since receiving my gown,”

“I’m sorry, I’ve been busy. Though I still should have made time for you,” You step aside to allow Gwen to enter.

“It’s quite alright. Have you been spending a lot of time with a certain knight?” She raises a brow mischievously.

“I have,” You admit, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “But I’ve also been working on my own gown for the harvest feast,”

“Oh, may I see?”

You nod and lead Gwen to your work table where the gown is currently laid out, though a bit crumpled.

“That’s coming along nicely,” Gwen carefully smooths out the fabric with her hands, inspecting your work. “I can’t wait to see when it’s finished,”

She looks up at you with a smile, but upon seeing your expression, and your lack of response, her smile falters.

“Are you not happy with it?”

“It’s not that, it’s just,” You sigh. “I don’t know what to do about this,”

You remove your cap, hair falling against your neck and brushing along your collarbones. Gwen approaches, lifting a hand and running a lock of your hair through her fingers.

“It’s grown some,” She says.

“But not nearly enough,”

Gwen’s gaze wanders over your hair thoughtfully. “Have you ever curled your hair before?”

“No,”

“I wonder if we should try it, then it wouldn’t look so flat. I think once it’s got a bit of curl to it, it could look quite pretty,”

“Perhaps,” You shrug. “But I don’t know how to do that. I’ve never been good at styling hair,”

“Well, I am. I did used to be a lady’s maid,” She smiles and glances toward your fabric shelves. “Do you have any linen scraps?”

“I should have something,” You walk over to the shelves and rummage through the collection of fabric, until you find a square scrap of white linen. “Will this do?”

“That will do very nicely,” Gwen holds out her hand and you pass her the linen. “May I borrow your scissors?” She asks.

“Of course,” You retrieve them from your sewing box and give them to her.

Gwen thanks you and she lays out the piece of fabric on a clear section of your work table, before cutting it into strips. Once all the fabric is cut, she stacks the strips into a neat pile.

“Wet your hair tonight,” She says. “But don’t soak it. It needs to be just damp. I’ll come back after dinner and show you what to do. This can be a trial run. If you like the results, we can repeat the process the night before the harvest feast. If not, we can try something else,”

~

Gwen arrives at your chambers about an hour after you finish your dinner, and you carry a chair to your bedchamber, Gwen refusing one for herself since she says it’ll be easier to do the process while standing. You place the chair in front of the mirror and sit, while Gwen arranges the fabric strips and comb on the vanity. She takes a section of hair in one hand, and with the other, places one of the strips, which is much longer than the hair, beside it, then wraps the lock of hair round the strip in a spiral. Once the entire length of the hair has been coiled around, Gwen holds it in place with one hand, while with the other, she wraps the remaining length of fabric around the hair, working from the bottom up this time, until the hair is completely covered, then ties the two ends of the strips together, securing the hair inside. She repeats this process until all your hair is secured.

“While you sleep tonight, your hair shall dry and set into the curls,” Gwen says, looking at you through the mirror, a hand on your shoulder. “Take them out tomorrow and see. It might look silly at first, as they will require a fair bit of brushing, but I think you will like the result,”

You reach up and rest your hand over Gwen’s. “Thank you for this,”

“You are welcome,” She smiles. “I shall leave you to enjoy the rest of your night. I might stop by tomorrow to see how our little experiment has gone,”

~

After breakfast the next morning, you return to the mirror and remove the rags from your hair, revealing tight ringlets. You are alarmed at first, but remember what Gwen said about brushing, so you pick up your hairbrush from beside the basin and begin working on your hair. At first, the curls seem to just bounce back to exactly how they were once the brush has run through them, but after a time, you notice them begin to soften.

After about fifteen minutes of continuous brushing, the hair has taken on some kind of style. You put down the brush and turn your head side to side, inspecting yourself in the mirror. You still look odd compared to other women about the castle, but… perhaps you could be seen like this?

You rush from your bedchamber and grab your unfinished gown, returning to hold it in front of you before the mirror. With a little squinting and imagination, you envision the final look and think it may just work. You leave your bedchamber again, gown draped over one arm, with a renewed vigour for sewing, when there’s a knock at your door. Placing the gown down, you move to answer it, before remembering your hair and stopping in your tracks.

“Who is it?” You call out.

“It’s Gwen,” A voice says from the other side of the door.

You continue to the door and open it, Gwen gasping when she sees you.

“(Y/N), that looks lovely!”

You grin and show her inside, closing the door behind her.

“I just came by to see how it went, but I can see right away that it’s gone very well!” She beams.

“You think so?”

“I do!”

“So, you think I could go to the feast like this?”

“(Y/N), you can go to the feast however you like. I know you are afraid of being different, but different doesn’t mean bad. I don’t believe anyone there will think poorly of you. If anything, they will be intrigued by your unique beauty,”

You chuckle. “I’m not so sure about that,”

A thought occurs to you and in an instant, your newfound excitement dissipates. There could be someone there who thinks very poorly of you.

“Will Gwaine’s sister be at the feast?” You ask.

Gwen frowns. “The nobility are invited, so I suppose she will be,”

“I can’t possibly go if she is going to be there,” You shake your head and begin to pace.

“I’m sure you will still have a good time,”

“I don’t think I could have a good time with her there. I wouldn’t be able to ignore her, I’d be waiting for her to say something unkind, or do something. Who knows, she might purposely spill her wine on my gown or something,”

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). I wish I could tell her she can’t attend, but I’m afraid I cannot,” Gwen purses her lips thoughtfully. “Perhaps I could engage her in conversation for the whole evening, so she won’t have the chance to do or say anything to you,”

You cease your pacing. “But then your night would be unpleasant,”

Gwen shrugs. “I have gotten rather good at talking to people I don’t like since becoming queen,”

“I don’t know,” You sigh. “That is a kind offer Gwen, thank you, but I think I should work this out myself,”

“Alright, but please don’t let the prospect of Erika being there quell your excitement. Your hair is going to look beautiful, and I can already tell that your gown is going to be stunning. Not to mention, you’ll be going with Sir Gwaine. He’s known for being lots of fun, not to mention the fact that he adores you. Everything will work out,” Gwen smiles and gives your arm a reassuring squeeze. “But if you are still feeling apprehensive, please talk to Gwaine about it. Don’t keep your feelings to yourself, alright?”

“Alright,” You nod. “I will speak with him today,”

“Good,” Gwen smiles. “I shall leave you to it,”

~

After working on your gown for another two hours or so, you leave your chambers to see Gwaine.

You reach his door, raising your hand to knock, but falter. You shouldn’t bother him with this. It’s your issue, so you should work it out for yourself. Besides, what do you expect him to do? You lower your hand and turn around, taking a few steps back the way you came, when you hear a door unlatch and someone call your name. You turn around to see Gwaine standing at his chamber door.

“Is everything alright?” He asks.

“Yes, I’m fine,” You force a smile.

Upon hearing approaching footsteps, you turn to see Sir Elyan striding down the corridor. He nods in your direction and smiles.

“Good day, (Y/N),” He says, before disappearing into presumably his own chambers.

Gwaine steps out into the corridor, dressed very casually in his grey tunic and trousers, with only socks covering his feet, and closes the gap between you.

“If there’s something on your mind, I’m happy to hear it,” He offers.

The sound of approaching chatter has you turn around again to see Sirs Leon and Percival appear at the end of the corridor. They incline their heads in your direction as they advance, as Sir Elyan did.

“Good morning, (Y/N),” Leon says kindly.

His hair is damp, some of his curls sticking to his sweaty forehead. They must have just come back from training.

“I hope you’re well?” Percival says from beside Leon, with a grin, his gaze flicking between you and Gwaine beside you.

“I am well, thank you,” You reply.

Gwaine grimaces and watches his comrades until they enter their respective chambers, before addressing you again.

“Would you like to come inside?” He takes a step back toward his chamber door. “Then we might have some privacy,” His eyes flick to the entrances to the other knights’ rooms.

You nod and follow him inside, where he invites you to sit at the table. You take a seat and he closes the door before sitting down across from you.

“I shouldn’t bother you with it,” You say quietly.

“(Y/N),” Gwaine smiles sadly. “You never have, and never could, bother me. What’s the matter?”

You sigh. “I just realised today that… well, it hadn’t occurred to me that Erika would be at the harvest feast,”

“Ah,” Gwaine crosses his arms. “I spoke with her today,”

“You did? What about?”

“Just… everything you and I spoke of. I suppose I wanted to confront her, but also try to understand why she did what she did,”

“I see,”

“I needn’t speak of it,” Gwaine shakes his head.

“No… I would like to know what she had to say for herself,”

“Alright,” Gwaine straightens in his chair. “It turns out she’s been bitter all these years about me leaving home when I did. She felt I left her to fend for herself, while I had an easy escape. She’s been cruel to you because you make me happy and she thinks I don’t deserve to be happy. She came to Camelot to try to find a place for herself here. Supposedly none of the men back home are good enough for her,”

“When I overheard her in the courtiers’ wing, her companion mentioned something about Erika’s ‘quest’, and Erika replied, saying something about someone falling in love with her,”

Gwaine nods. “She’s been speaking to the other knights, clearly trying to gain their favour. Leon, Percival and Elyan have all had her approach them. They’ve all managed to shrug her off, though she was quite persistent for a time,”

“So, she was hoping to secure one of the knights and what, get married and live in Camelot? What about your mother?”

“If Erika was to settle here, I would see about finding a place for my mother as well. That is if she’d even want to live here,”

“Why wouldn’t she? Isn’t she in, please excuse the term, a reduced position?”

“Not so much anymore,”

You raise your brows in question.

“Since I became a knight,” Gwaine continues. “I’ve been sending her a portion of my wages in an attempt to better her and Erika’s circumstances,”

“And still Erika treats you so poorly?”

Gwaine shrugs. You reach a hand across the table and he places one of his own around it.

“Sending part of my wages was the least I could do after I ran away. There was no money being sent to them then,”

“You mustn’t punish yourself for your past mistakes, especially since you are doing what you can now,”

“You are kind to say so,” He gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “Anyway, back to the matter at hand: Erika being at the feast,”

“Do you think she’ll behave, now that you’ve spoken to her?”

Gwaine sighs, running a hand over his chin. “I don’t know. She never actually said she was sorry,”

“Oh,” Your heart sinks.

“I’ll work something out,” He strokes the back of your hand with his thumb. “I won’t let anyone spoil our night,”

~

Gwaine waits beside the courtyard steps, greeting his fellow knights as they approach, chests heaving and brows sweaty from their afternoon training.

“Enjoy your respite while you can, Gwaine,” Percival grins, giving Gwaine a playful slap on the shoulder as he passes.

About a quarter of an hour goes by, and the man he’s been waiting for comes into view, a bundle of swords and shields slung over his back.

“Merlin!” Gwaine calls out as he crosses the courtyard to meet his friend. “Let me help you with that,”

“You shouldn’t, it could aggravate your injury,” Merlin says in a strained voice.

“I think I can manage carrying a few swords,” Gwaine says, already taking some from Merlin’s bundle.

Merlin nods in thanks and keeps walking.

“Everything alright?” He asks as they climb the courtyard steps.

“Yes and no,” Gwaine replies. “(Y/N) is going to the feast with me,”

“I heard,” Merlin grins. “I’m glad you two were able to sort things out,”

Gwaine smiles. “Me too. There is a problem though. My sister is going to be there and it’s making (Y/N) anxious. Honestly, it’s making me anxious too,”

“You’re worried she’ll try to ruin yours and (Y/N)’s night?” Merlin asks, stepping inside the castle and turning down a passage.

“I am,”

“What are you going to do?”

“I wondered if you, being the physician’s apprentice, might know of something that could… prevent Erika from attending,”

Merlin stops in his tracks. “What, like poison?” He says in an alarmed whisper.

“No! Who do you think I am, Merlin?” Gwaine shakes his head, wide-eyed. “I mean something that might make her a bit… unwell, or unsightly, so she won’t want to be seen in public,”

Merlin purses his lips thoughtfully. “Leave it to me,”

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

in which harry’s your soulmate and you don’t quite know that yet.

a/n: hello angels! i bring you soulmate!harry for my loveliest friend @sweetcreatureinthedark​ ‘s fic party! i chose the prompt “i’ve been in love with you, i’ll be in love with you.” i’ll be honest, this was tough to write, and somewhat was testing my writing abilities lol, but we made it through and I love it! so i hope you all do too! be kind and pls leave feedback and rb! :’)

thank you to @sunflowers-styles for beta reading and putting up with the mess lol love you always <3

WORD COUNT: 15.4k of friends to lovers, soulmates, physicaltherapist!harry x professor!yn

WARNINGS: slight angst, mentions of heart condition and flatlining

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

pls rb to share! <3

There was a saying that your Nonna had always said to you ever since you were a little girl, one that she made sure was ingrained into your mind for the rest of your life. 

‘Someone is destined to your mind, soul, and heart.’

Your mother, Kath, had told you that she had repeated those words ever since you were barely a year old. Nonna had said them so much that they could’ve practically been your first words. She would say that statement along with: ‘There is someone out there who already loves you, they’re just waiting for the right moment. That right moment will be up to the universe.’ 

The concept of soulmates has been around for thousands of years, and Nonna was such a sucker for it. Having met hers when she was sixteen years old, she made sure she taught her family the power of having a soulmate. She told Kath that if she wasn’t around for you, then Kath was supposed to teach you. Luckily, she’s still around though because that woman is one of the best you’ll ever know. 

When you were old enough to go to school, the teachers taught you about soulmates as well. When you turn thirteen, you’re able to find who your soulmate is because the power inside of you ignites, guiding you through the world to find your person. The universe was…weird like that; teaching children that they were going to find love at such a young age. You were taught that you were born to be loved by someone, and since you didn’t know any better, you listened. Nonna then started to explain the meaning and importance of soulmates. You were fascinated by it as she would explain it so enthusiastically to you while you listened with wide and curious eyes, making sure you didn’t miss a single word of what she said. 

As a shy ten-year-old, you couldn’t wait till you were older so you could find your soulmate, thinking it would be a fun adventure to see who you would click with. Nonna always said that ‘when you know, you know.’ 

Once you hit seventeen, however, you slowly believed less and less in the idea of a soulmate, and maybe that was because you were trying to force the feeling of trying to click with every person you met, but you lived through your adolescent years listening to your friends rave about how their soulmate was so perfect when yours hadn’t even shown up. They were all smiles while you were all frowns, a disappointed look was planted on your face when you would come to realize you were probably going to be alone and that the universe had forgotten about you. 

At eighteen, living in a world of soulmates, you believed you didn’t have one. 

That’s how you lived your life. 

When you went to college, the idea of being bound to another person was pushed to the back of your mind and you started to live your life more freely. You didn’t have the constant pressure in your head, telling you to find your one true love because you believed there wasn’t a ‘one true love.’ Your Nonna was a bit sad to see you live thinking that no one was out there to love you, but you realized that you didn’t want to sit and wait around for the perfect person, you wanted to venture out. 

Throughout college, you lived…a lot. You met new people, hooked up a bit, and didn’t have the recurring thought in your head about your particular soulmate.

That was until you met Eric. 

You met him your last year of college; and he was a year older than you. You met him on campus while he was meeting up with one of his old professors whose classroom you just happened to be in as he walked in, and you had immediately taken a liking to him. Besides the fact that you were sexually attracted to him, you didn’t think you would see him again until you met him again at a coffee shop that was not too far from campus. Eric invited you to take a seat with him, to which you said yes, and the rest was history. You and Eric were together for three years. In that time you were able to find a stable job, and you lived life together before he proposed to you. You thought life couldn’t get better than this--you had the greatest fiance and a job you didn’t hate, which was teaching Anatomy at a community college. 

Eric had made you believe in love. Soulmates, however? Not quite. Although at times it felt like he was your soulmate, that was just you trying to force something again. He was your soulmate without all of the characteristics a soulmate would have. 

Nonna had always told you that your eyes would sparkle while looking at them, so intently to where you couldn’t stop staring at them, thinking you two were the only ones in the room even with so many people around. That you would feel the spark igniting between you and your soulmate, causing your body to feel warm as the physical pull would bring you together. That your heart would beat ten times faster when you knew who that person was, and that the erratic beating wouldn't seem to stop because your soulmate’s heart was also beating at the same pace. 

When it came to Eric, you were able to look away and you were aware of your surroundings. When you were close to him, you didn’t feel that magnetic pull. When you looked at him, your heart seemed to calm down to where you didn’t feel like it was pounding through your chest. When you looked at him…you didn’t think he was your soulmate anymore. It’s crazy to even think that you thought he was before when you didn’t believe in the concept, but there was no attraction or pull towards him, and the timing could have been better. Actually, it could be so much better. 

“I’m sorry. I can’t do this,” you muttered into the mic as several gasps were heard from the family and friends that had gathered for the moment. 

You were dressed in a white, lace dress with a veil clipped onto the top of your head. It was your wedding day, and you were telling the supposed love of your life that you couldn’t marry him anymore because the thoughts about soulmates had barged inside of your mind during Eric’s vows, making you think thoughts that you wished you wouldn’t, but you couldn’t help it. Eric wasn’t your soulmate, and you damn well knew that you weren’t his either.

“W-What are you doing?” Eric whispered as he looked at you with wide eyes that told you not to embarrass him right here, right now. 

“I’m so sorry, Eric. I can’t marry you,” you said more clearly, not really telling him but also telling the crowd. 

The officiant of your wedding was your friend, Vic, and she looked at you with a shocked expression as she was just as speechless as everyone else. You knew they didn’t have to say or ask anything for you to know what they really wanted to say; they wanted to ask you what you were doing and what caused the sudden decision to not marry someone you’ve been with for four years. 

You could ask yourself the same question. Better yet, you would like to ask the universe why, especially on your wedding day, why they decided to suddenly pop inside your head, reminding you all of the bullshit people feel when they find their soulmate. 

Eric looked at you with worry, eyes slightly watering as if it was his worst nightmare come true. But you couldn’t carry on with this while neglecting the feeling that was inside your heart and mind. You couldn’t marry him as those thoughts were screaming at you, telling you that you made the wrong decision. Those said thoughts were telling you that your true soulmate was out there somewhere, physically and emotionally hurting because their soulmate decided to marry someone else. Your marriage would be ruined entirely if you went through with it. 

“I-I’m sorry…” is what you said to him with a pout on your face as he shook his head. You started heading down the aisle, ignoring the disappointed, sad, and angry looks your guests, especially his family, were giving you as you walked away from the altar that held the man you had given four years of your life to.

Once you reached the middle of the aisle, you started to jog. Picking up your dress so you wouldn't trip over it, you started to run as you couldn’t take the way the people were looking at you. 

Without glancing back, you headed over to the black Mercedes that waited for the newlyweds on the curb. Your driver, Jackson, had turned around in his seat, smiling but when he didn’t see the groom, his smile disappeared, also noticing that you had a disappointed look on your face as well. You found a clean napkin on the side of the door, asking him if he had a pen. 

“How long are you willing to drive?” You asked.

“I’ll take you to wherever you need me to,” he replied. You smiled gratefully, writing down the address that made you feel at home before handing him the napkin. 

He immediately started the car before typing in the address into his phone, driving away from the venue that had relied and counted on you being a wife today. 

And you didn’t regret your actions for one second. 

Soft, cold winds rushed through you as your skin pebbled from the sudden draft while standing against the white wooden railing of the balcony in the main bedroom. The calm waves immediately put you at ease from the anxiety that you were feeling hours prior, as harsh thoughts pushed their way through your head, telling yourself that you were a disappointment—that you disappointed everyone at the venue. 

The shakiness of your hands was replaced by the grasp of the railing as you looked out to the distant sunset. The day wasn’t all that sunny, since the sun was setting behind the clouds. There weren’t that many people out on the beach either, but you were glad because you needed to feel like you were the only person on this Earth. 

Coming to the beach house was the first thing that came to your mind when you decided to walk out. You knew that Eric wouldn’t find you here because he didn’t know about it, plus you just wanted to be alone without the constant questions that came from your ex-fiancé and your family. 

You felt bad, of course you did, and you didn’t know how to begin explaining to Eric that he was just someone that you couldn’t marry because the previously pushed thoughts had come back to your mind right as you stood at the altar. But right now, you were wallowing in fears that overtook your mind, thinking that everyone was going to absolutely hate you, which you think they did anyway once you walked out. 

Setting the wine glass down onto the railing, you looked down at the few pedestrians who walked by on the beach, getting in a last-minute venture before it got too dark. You smiled, thinking about the soulmate crap the universe had made you think about your entire life because any of these people could be the person you would love for your entire life, and you wouldn’t even know. 

You groaned to yourself, leaning your body away from the railing and putting your forehead on your forearms. You stayed there for a moment, thinking about how exhausted you were, especially since wine makes you tired, including the long day of getting ready all for nothing. 

When you stood back up, you had accidentally knocked your glass over the railing, the glass barely making a sound once it landed on the sand. 

“Fuck…” you looked over the railing to see where your glass landed before you headed down the stairs. Once you made it near the bottom, you hadn’t seen the last two steps because they were covered by sand, so you completely fell on your face into the sand, making you gasp loudly from the sudden fall.

Laughing hysterically at your fall as you felt the embarrassment on your cheeks, you rolled over onto your back as you closed your eyes and laughed until you cried. You covered your face as you began to sob, feeling truly sorry for yourself. You never meant for this to happen. You were supposed to be happy, and you were sure you ruined someone else’s happiness. 

After a few moments, you got up and brushed the sand off your clothes and face, and shook your hair so the excess sand could fall out. You sniffled, walking over to where your wine glass landed before your phone rang in your pocket. It was your mom calling, and you knew you couldn’t ignore it. You were planning to ignore everyone’s calls and texts before you went back to your hometown in just a few days, but it was your mother--you couldn’t hit decline, especially right now. 

“Hello?” You answered. 

“Hi, my lovely. You okay?” Kath was surprisingly calm because you thought she would’ve been freaking out. 

“Hi, Mom. Yeah, I’m good.” You walked back to the stairs and decided to sit on the bottom of the steps as you watched the calming ocean in front of you. 

“Can I ask where you are?” She asked hesitantly. 

“I’m at Papa’s house and I’m safe. No need to worry,” you reassured, smiling softly, even though she couldn’t see you. 

“Okay, good. I figured you were there. I understand you need space, but call me if you need anything, got it?” Kath was always a worrier, like every mom, but she seemed to worry about you a lot more than usual. 

“Got it. Love you, Mom.” 

“Love you too, my lovely. Oh, and,” she caught you before you were able to hang up. “I get why you did what you did, and I’m not mad. You’ll find them soon, okay?” Your eyes watered a bit, and you nodded, even though she couldn’t see you. You heard Kath blow a kiss through the phone before she hung up. You always loved how your mom was always able to understand you without you having to say anything at all. She was great like that, and you loved her dearly for it. 

Pressing decline to what felt like the hundredth call from your in-laws and friends in the last two weeks made you roll your eyes and want to turn your phone off completely. 

You knew that you had to call and text these people back eventually, but right now, you didn’t want to explain. You already had the anxiety from your actions weighing you down already, and these people would most likely scream over the phone as they demanded an explanation as to why you did what you did, and you really didn’t need that at the moment. 

All you wanted to do was go back to the beach house and sit on the balcony as you watched the ocean; all far away from your problems. 

You were unofficially a single woman, and you could look at all the men and women you wanted now that you were single. The nagging voice in your head was constantly bothering you, leaving you no room to think about what you might say to Eric when you meet up with him. He had stopped calling you a week ago, and since you weren’t entirely cruel, you shot him a text, saying that you were fine and that you’ll talk to him when you were ready because quite frankly, you needed to wrap your head around your thoughts. He was a sweetheart in that way, giving you space when you were the one to walk out on him and needed to explain things. You truly didn’t deserve him. 

Unlocking the door to Nonna’s house with your spare key, you found her sitting on the couch watching TV. “Hey, Nonna,” you greeted, and she perked her head towards the door. 

She softly smiled, getting up from the couch before she walked over to you. She didn’t greet you like she always did, which made you a little nervous because you thought she might be mad at you, but when her arms wrapped around your body, pulling you into a hug, you relaxed. 

“Hi, Chip.” Her nickname for you came out with a smile against your shoulder. She had started calling you ‘Chip’ ever since you were a toddler. You had always wanted a bag of chips to munch on, and the nickname seemed to stick because you were still the same. 

Nonna pulled back, guiding you to sit with her on the couch. “How are you, love? I haven’t seen you in weeks,” she asked as she pouted, giving you a look of concern. 

You smiled to ease her worry. “I’m doing okay. How are you?” You grabbed her hand from her lap to hold it, the gesture making her smile a bit. 

“Okay as well. Worried about you. Haven’t seen you since the wedding…” 

You huffed out. “Yeah, Nonna, I just wanted to say I’m sorry-” 

“Chip, what do you need to be sorry for? It wasn’t like it was my wedding. I understand why you did that,” she reassured you. 

“You do?” You looked at her with a soft look. If there was anyone that you wanted approval or reassurance from, it was your Nonna. 

“Of course, I do. Look, I know I told you about soulmates ever since you were younger, and throughout the years, it pained me to see you think that you didn’t have one. So, I didn’t push the idea onto you anymore. I wanted you to live your life, and when you met Eric, I thought he was nice, but I just knew he wasn’t the one,” she explained, making your brows raise. 

“You knew?” Nonna nodded. “H-How?” 

“Because you would’ve told me right away when you met him. You would’ve told me that you felt everything that I had told you for years, and suddenly when you met Eric, you didn’t talk about those things. I knew on the outside, you made it seem like you weren’t into the idea of soulmates, and that may be the case, but I know deep down that you still care about it. You want someone to cherish you and love you as we all do. You were excited up until you were seventeen because your friends had found theirs already, and all of a sudden you didn’t care. I know you’re still looking, but just wait a little, yeah?” Nonna always had a way with her wisdom, and she had that kind of intuition that made you feel a little less worried. The words that came out of your mouth weren’t much of a shock to you because Nonna was smart like that. You hadn’t realized all of the things she had picked up throughout your relationship with Eric, but you were grateful that she caught those things because it made it easier to talk to her. 

“You know way too much, stop,” you joked, making her laugh. You laid your head on her shoulder, embracing the moment with her as you thought about how grateful you are for her. She was truly the closest person to you, and you didn’t know what you would do without her. Suddenly, the doorbell rang as she got up from the couch. “Expecting someone?” 

“Must be my personal delivery boy,” she raised her brows teasingly, and you furrowed your brows in confusion. She had always mentioned someone dropping by to drop some things off from her next-door neighbor, and yet, you hadn’t met this neighbor of hers. Nonna opened the door and the person behind it wasn’t someone you were expecting. “Oh, thank you, dear!” She grabbed the set of glass bowls. “Would you like to come in?” 

The man behind the door said, “I wouldn’t want to impose-”

“No, please! Come and meet my granddaughter.” Nonna opened the door wider, so her guest could look into her house, and that was when he saw you, standing in the entryway with your mouth slightly open. “Harry, this is my lovely granddaughter--the one I’ve been telling you about.”

“Hi, I’m Harry,” he said breathlessly. His gaze was trained right on you, and Nonna looked between you two as the both of you looked at one another with shock. 

“Hi, uh, Y/N,” you shook his hand as you were quite speechless. He was quite attractive and looked young. He had short, curly brown hair that was pushed back with a red patterned bandana. He wore a black Nike jacket, shorts, and running shoes. 

There was a moment of silence between you two as the both of you looked at each other. His expression was soft as his eyes seemed to burn into you, making you captivated by his stare. It felt like time had stopped for a moment as you two looked into each other’s eyes, trying to map out what the intent stare really meant. Could it be? Before you allowed yourself to feel the imaginative spark, you broke out of your trance, placing your head down as you thought for a moment. He cleared his throat to relieve the silence as he scratched the back of his neck, looking anywhere other than you. 

“I’m just going to put these away,” Nonna broke the silence as she smirked to herself while leaving the room and to the kitchen before you let out a breath. 

Harry smiled amusingly, chuckling a tad bit. His dimples popped out when he did so and you thought he was the cutest thing to ever walk the Earth. You walked closer to him so you were in the spot Nonna was prior as Harry was still standing on the doorstep. 

“Hi,” you simply greeted. 

Harry’s smile widened. “Hello.” 

“So, uh, how do you know Nonna again?” You asked curiously, tilting your head as you placed your hand on the doorknob on the other side, leaning against the door. 

“My mum lives next door actually. She and Tallie are quite close friends, so I would see your Nonna every time I would visit Mum, and Mum would have me bring things over sometimes—whatever the two talked about,” he explained, and you nodded understandingly, thinking that it was truly a small world. 

“How long has your mom lived there?” You wondered. 

“About a year and a half now,” he answered. Your brows furrowed as you were genuinely confused about why you haven’t met Harry before because you would always visit Nonna. He looked at you oddly as well, wondering the same thing. 

He’s known Tallie ever since Anne moved next door, and also found it strange that he’s never met you before. Tallie had mentioned her daughter, which was your mother, and has met Kath before--many times. She also mentioned you briefly, but he’s never seen any pictures of you, so he wouldn’t have recognized you if he met you. 

“That’s strange, isn’t it?” You suddenly asked, and Harry nodded his head. Before he could say anything more, Nonna walked into the room. 

“You kids doing okay?” She asked, and you smiled at her, nodding your head. “Do you two want to make some bread?” She suggested enthusiastically. You and Harry both chuckled, looking at one another briefly before you both said yes. Nonna clapped her hands, urging you two to follow her into the kitchen. “The dough has been resting for an hour already, so if you two could do me a favor and knead it for me, that would be great.” 

After the three of you washed your hands, Nonna instructed you on how she would like her bread to be shaped like breadsticks. You and Harry complied as she was making the butter. 

“So, Y/N, what do you do for a living?” He sparked up a conversation as he kneaded the dough; you were doing the same. 

“I teach at the college about an hour away. Anatomy and Physiology professor,” you said humbly, and his brows raised. 

“You sure know a lot about the body then…” he suddenly pointed out, eyes widening immediately as he stopped kneading. “That was really weird, I’m sorry.” You laughed loudly as he cringed at himself. “I was just trying to state the obvious since you studied anatomy, and it went smoother in my head.” His cheeks turned into a pink tint color as he scratched his neck--something that you already noticed he did when he felt nervous or awkward--feeling the embarrassment rush through him. 

You chuckled, looking up from the dough. “No worries. You’re…cute.” Harry didn’t say anything but shyly smile. 

“What about you?” 

“Besides living in general,” he started, and you laughed. “I’m a physical therapist. I work at the hospital downtown.” 

“Ah, interesting. So, you would know a lot about the body too then, huh?” You teased, placing his words in your mouth. 

Harry genuinely laughed loudly, filling the kitchen with his sounds. “Perhaps I do. That was a good one,” he said once he calmed down from his laughter. You beamed at him before you studied him a bit, trying not to get caught. 

You were so caught up in how focused he looked while kneading the dough, and the way his lips curled in as he rolled it between his hands. His hands were naked from the rings that you had seen prior before he took them off for this task, but the way his hands were built and what they could do had you limitlessly daydreaming for what seemed like forever. They looked strong, but they were pretty. The orange nail polish contrasted between the bulging veins in his hands, leaving a very fine line between it all. 

If you looked any longer, you would be drooling at the thought of this man’s hands, but luckily, Nonna tapped you and by the look on her face, she had caught you eyeing her delivery boy. “Yes, Nonna?” 

“Might wanna speed up the process, yeah?” She suggested, with her voice in a teasing manner. All you did was nod as you huffed out a chuckle before proceeding. 

After a bit more conversation with Harry, the dough was finally going into the oven, leaving an excited Nonna while Harry was placing the tray onto the rack. 

“Tallie, I would hate to not try the bread after it’s done, but I should probably get back to my Mum…” 

“Oh, go ahead, dear! I’m sorry to keep you for so long. I’ll be sure to bring some by when it’s done.” She reached up to hug him. “Be sure to tell Anne I said thank you for lending me the bowls, and thanks to you for delivering it.” 

“Always a pleasure. I’ll see you soon. Uh, Y/N,” he called out as you gave him your attention. “Walk me out?” You smiled, nodding your head. Harry said one last goodbye to Nonna before you followed him out of the house. 

“It was nice meeting you,” you told him, walking onto the sidewalk. You two were walking slowly since Anne’s house was right next door, and it seemed like you two wanted more time with one another even though it wasn’t said out loud. It was like you two already knew. 

“You as well,” he said honestly. You were standing right in front of you in Anne’s driveway, not quite wanting to leave just yet. 

Your heart started racing uncontrollably fast as you looked up at him. His green eyes still shined bright in the gloomy sky that looked like it was about to downpour any second, but they had caught your eye immediately, and you were completely lost in them. You weren’t able to look away and think how alluring his trance was. Your mind had stopped itself from long jumping into the conclusion that was begging you to finish the story, so you pulled your stare away instantly. 

“Uh, well. I’ll see you soon probably?” You asked, backing away from him. Harry slightly frowned but made sure not to make it obvious. 

“Yeah, you will,” he nodded, stepping back as he offered a friendly smile. 

“Bye, Harry,” you waved at him before you turned around and walked away. 

Harry walked into Anne’s home and straight to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. He took a deep breath as he tried to calm down, heart beating outstandingly out of his chest that he felt like he couldn’t breathe anymore. When Harry walked into Tallie’s home, his heart was beating ten times faster ever since he saw you. He simply couldn’t stop staring at you, and the only way he stopped was when you had broken the stare. He definitely felt the spark there, and he wondered if you did too. He sure hoped so because he had never felt that strong of a feeling inside of him with anyone else. 

Anne walked into the kitchen once she heard the commotion from upstairs, and saw her son leaning against the counter, head down and eyes closed, and that’s when she began to worry. 

“Harry? Love, are you okay?” She ran to his side, placing her hand on his arm. Harry continued to take deep breaths, increasing Anne’s concern. “Answer me, please. You’re scaring me.” The sound of her voice was breaking Harry’s heart as he never wanted his mother to be concerned or scared, but naturally, as a mom, it was her job to be. 

“Mum, it’s her. It’s really her,” he breathed out a laugh as his voice was strained from the lack of breath he had. 

“What?” 

“Her name’s Y/N. She’s Tallie’s granddaughter. My soulmate.” His eyes watered that was quickly followed by slight tears that streamed down his face, feeling so overwhelmed by the joy that overtook him. 

“She’s here, huh?” Anne had tears in her eyes as she felt extremely happy for her son. All the heartbreaks and search for his soulmate had ended once he met you, knowing that it was going to change his life forever. Harry nodded, brushing the tears away from his face. 

All the signs were there; the gleaming stare, the spark that shocked him, the magnetic pull between you two, his heart rate rising, and he felt like you were the only person in the world when he looked at you. That’s when he knew. 

You were his soulmate. 

The rain had poured down quite heavily as Harry ran inside the apartment complex with his small umbrella that had barely kept him dry. 

Shaking the excess water on his umbrella and wiping his shoes onto the floor mat, he rushed towards the open elevator before it closed because it always took a while to land in the lobby. 

“Hold the doors, please!” He called out, quickly running his fastest while trying not to slip. A hand was seen between the doors as the doors reopened. Harry got into the elevator, taking a deep breath. 

“Harry?” He looked back at the other person who was in the elevator, and you were softly smiling at him as you took off your hood. You were wearing a burnt orange raincoat that he thought looked absolutely adorable on you, a university sweater underneath, black pants, along with black leather boots. Your eyes lit up at the presence of him, making him smile widely, feeling the attraction from you once again. 

“H-Hi,” he stumbled over his words, to which he mentally slapped himself. He cleared his throat, “How are you?” I miss you, he wanted to say. It had been about two weeks since he last saw you at Tallie’s house, and considering you were his soulmate, that seemed like a very long time. There was no doubt that Harry had been on your mind since you met him. There was something about the way he looked at you that made you overthink every possible thing he could mean to you. It was crazy to think that he wouldn’t leave your brain considering you had just met him. You concluded that Harry was just an attractive man, the first man you’ve ever looked at that way since Eric. 

“Good!” You said too overly excited, making Harry chuckle at your chirpy voice. You fake coughed, making your voice a tad bit lower. “Good, yeah. What about you?” 

“Doing great!” The elevator doors open, and Harry stepped aside, letting you in first before he followed. “Do you live here?” 

“Yeah, I do. This is me,” you stopped walking and stood in front of apartment 425 as you fiddled with your keys, nervously. You’ve been living here ever since you graduated college, and you didn’t fully move in with Eric because you planned to move in with him after you two got married, so luckily, you didn’t get rid of this place. “Do you also live here or are you visiting someone?” 

“I live here too. I’m actually on the floor above yours, like directly above.” Harry realized that he didn’t even press the button to his floor in the elevator. 

“525?” You asked as your brows furrowed. Harry nodded, giving you a small smile. “No way! Guess we’re neighbors…in a way?” You chuckled, and Harry grinned. 

“Guess we are,” he slightly giggled. 

“Uh, did you want to come in?” You asked. Harry’s eyes widened a bit, surprised by your offer, and you saw how shocked he was. “It’s okay if you don’t want to. It’s raining and thought it’d be nice to have some company.” 

“I’d love to. Thank you,” he responded, nodding his head. You smiled as you proceeded to unlock the door, stepping inside as Harry followed behind you. 

The layout of your apartment was the same as his since he was on the same side and right above you, but there was something about your apartment that felt like…home to him. He thought it had to do with the fact that it’s your space and you were in it because no one’s home felt like this besides yours. You had a few small potted plants along the windowsill along with a large one in the corner. Right next to the plant was a small wooden table with your red record player on top of it. A mustard yellow velvet couch was pushed against the wall facing the TV that rested on a white shelf bookcase that held many books and vinyl records in the cubbies along with random knick-knacks on the surface. A wooden round coffee table was placed in the middle with a vanilla candle on top of a few fashion magazines. Underneath the table was a white rug that looked warm to dig his feet in on a cold day. Three concert posters that were framed were hung on the wall, and he knew you were his soulmate because the three bands that you had on your wall were his absolute favorite; Fleetwood Mac, Queen, and The Beatles. 

His heart fluttered as he looked around, feeling like this was a part of you that he finally knew now. This part of you felt like home to him as he was immediately washed over with the feeling of comfort right when he stepped into your apartment. He felt so welcomed that it was going to be difficult for him to leave your space. 

“Make yourself at home.” Definitely home, he thought. “Would you like some hot chocolate?” You asked, taking out a saucepan from the cupboards. 

“I would love some,” he smiled, sitting on the couch where he could see you pour the milk into the pot. After a few moments, he saw you rush back into the living area. 

“Sorry, let me put some music on.” You kneeled on the hardwood floors to look at your collection before you turned your head back to him. “Any requests?” 

“Any Christmas song would be lovely and very fitting,” he requested. It was the beginning of December, and Harry was in the holiday mood. Plus, you were preparing hot chocolate, so it is more than appropriate. 

You smiled, nodding your head as you ran your fingers along your selection before pulling one out. Harry noticed the cover art as you pulled the record out.  Ultimate Christmas by Frank Sinatra played on the record player, filling the room with melodious tunes. You walked back to the kitchen before flashing him a smile. He sat on the couch and soaked in the music as he heard humming from the kitchen, and he grinned. Harry felt a warm feeling in his chest as he saw you stir in the hot cocoa into the hot milk as you hummed White Christmas. This moment right here and right now was something he wanted to experience every single day--where you would make hot cocoa as he would watch you with sparkling eyes, thinking how Frank Sinatra’s voice fitted so well with the holiday vibe. 

You came back with two red mugs with a bright smile on your face. “Do you mind placing the coasters on the table?” Your eyes pointed at the coasters underneath the candle. Harry nodded and placed two glass coasters onto the table, and he took a good look at both of them. One of the coasters stated ‘Be Kind’ in pink, and the other printed ‘Love Wins’ in multiple colors. He smiled, knowing the smallest things in your apartment was making him fall for you even more. 

“Hope you like it. I also should’ve asked what you liked with your hot chocolate but I just assumed you liked the same thing as me,” you chuckled nervously. You didn’t know why you were so nervous, but you think it had to do with the fact that another man was in your apartment that wasn’t Eric. 

Harry looked down at his hot chocolate. There were several marshmallows in the hot drink and a scoop of whipped cream with chocolate shavings to complete the drink. He smiled to himself as he took a sip, covering up his flustered demeanor. 

“It’s exactly what I wanted. I drink mine the same way,” he replied, and you smirked. 

“Glad I know a man with great taste,” you teasingly winked at him, and Harry nearly melted in his seat, and it for sure wasn’t from the hot cocoa because he wanted to reply with ‘More like your soulmate.’ He wanted to know what you were thinking in that beautiful head of yours. 

He wanted to know if you felt the same things he does. Did your heart beat uncontrollably fast every time he looked at you? Did you get sucked into a different dimension every time you looked at him? Did you have the urge to move closer to him, closing the gap between you two? Because Harry felt all those things with the simple act of you sitting next to him, and he really wanted to know if you felt the same way. 

You crossed your arms as the chilly weather rushed through you. “To be honest, I’m quite shocked that we live in the same building. I wasn’t planning on going back to Nonna’s until the end of the month, so I didn’t expect to see you.” 

“So, you were thinking about me?” He raised his brows teasingly.

“And if I was?” You decided to tease back but came out more like flirting. 

Harry paused for a moment, drinking his hot drink as he looked up at you through his lashes. “Then…I would say I was thinking about you too.” You nodded slightly, quickly grabbing your drink as you took a sip from it, hiding away your blush behind the mug. “What’s it like being a teacher? Can’t imagine standing in front of everyone and practically perform, I guess.” 

You breathed out a laugh, thinking the opposite. He had the look of a rockstar, and his name sounded badass. 

“It’s great. I try being their friend rather than a teacher because I feel like if they’re comfortable with me, they’ll retain and understand the material better. I learned that if you’re comfortable with someone, you’ll listen to them, so that’s what I did. And most of them are doing exceptionally well. Some of my colleagues are always surprised with how many students I get during office hours because I encourage using office hours and my email, so I’m quite busy,” you explained humbly. Harry admired your hard work and dedication, and he already knew you were a great professor just by what you told him. 

“So, what made you want to become an anatomy professor?” Harry changed the subject, feeling a bit flustered himself. 

“I was undecided with my major in college until I had to take a few science classes. One of them was anatomy, and I just fell in love with it. I really enjoyed learning it, and just fell in love with the subject,” you explained. 

“The professor part?” 

“My anatomy professor was the best. She made teaching look so fun and enjoyable. Plus, I’ve heard one too many stories about students having teachers who weren’t compassionate or sympathetic, and I didn’t like that at all. So, I wanted to be one of those teachers who made sure students learned and have a professor who was understanding,” you said humbly. 

“That’s very sweet of you. Unfortunately, I’ve had those professors who were pretty tough and not so compassionate.” You pouted. You always hated hearing or reading tweets when students would type out an email and express what they were currently going through to their professor, only for their professor to lack compassion and support to students who were trying to do their best. 

That’s why you wanted to become an educator. You wanted to make learning fun for your students and have them enjoy going to class rather than dreading it and being nervous to walk in. 

“What about you? What made you want to become a physical therapist?” You asked. 

Harry set his mug down onto the coaster. “The same as you. Something about bones and the muscles fascinated me and how they worked. I grew up loving sports, so that helped a bit, but wanting to help people recover properly was a main goal as well.” 

“You’re kind like that; someone who wants to help out others,” you complimented, and Harry blushed. 

“Thank you. It also has to do with the fact that one of my friends in secondary school, Max. He got injured pretty badly. He played football, or soccer, and he tore his ACL, which you probably know already, but it takes about six to twelve months to recover from that—physically and mentally. He loved the sport like no other, and couldn’t wait to get into it. His doctor cleared him when he was four months into therapy. Four. Doctor said he was looking good, so he cleared him earlier than usual.” Harry shook his head in disbelief as he told the story and you sat next to him, listening as your mouth was slightly open. “Like most of us, we listen to doctors more than we listen to our bodies. So, Max started to play again, and as expected, he hurt himself again…” he trailed off. 

You placed your hand on his knee, comforting him. You could tell that Max meant a lot to him, and by the way he was acting at the moment, he cared enough to dedicate his life towards wanting to be better to people who rely on him. 

“And he couldn’t play again. That was when I realized that I wanted to study the body. It was a long journey to get my doctorate, but I eventually got it at twenty-seven, and I’ve been working as a therapist for about a year and a half now; the same amount of time I’ve been here,” he said humbly. 

“That’s great, Harry. You must be so proud of yourself,” you offered him a smile. 

“I am, yeah. You must be too. Guess we both have a knack for changing some perspective, huh?” He softly smiled. 

“Yeah, we do.” 

Throughout the rest of the night, both of you got to know one another. You found out that you had a lot in common with him, such as your interests in the body (given both of your careers), movies and TV shows, books, and food; told each other childhood stories, and talked about your families. It was nice to talk to someone who didn’t judge you, especially with what happened a month ago. 

It was nearing midnight as the time seemed to go by quicker than usual. After two more glasses of hot cocoa, Harry let out a yawn as he checked the time on his phone. 

“I should probably get going--let you rest up,” he said politely, grabbing his mug. 

You nodded, agreeing as you didn’t realize how late it was. “Okay. Oh, you could just leave it there; I’ll clean up.” Harry was too tired to debate, so he put the mug down before you walked him to the door. “I had a great time. Thank you for inviting me in and giving me hot chocolate.” 

“Of course. I had a lovely time as well. Maybe…we should do it again sometime?” You suggested. Harry’s eyes gleamed as he slightly smirked; a tint of pink formed on his cheeks. 

“I would love that.” You said a soft ‘okay’ as you smiled. He looked at you for a moment, noticing your eyes sparkling in the dim light of your apartment as you stared up at him in such fondness, making his heart melt in every way possible. Harry cleared his throat as he was so caught up in your stare that almost hypnotized him. “Well, you know where I live, so come visit if you want or maybe I’ll see you on another elevator ride,” he playfully joked, earning a giggle from you. 

“Sleep well, Harry,” you told him as he walked out the door, away from the space that felt most comforting to him. 

“Sweet dreams, Y/N.” He flashed you another smile, and your knees nearly melted at the sight of his gorgeousness. Your grip on the door handle tightened, holding you up from falling to the ground. 

You waited for him to turn the corner to head to the elevator before you closed your door. Placing your back flat against the door, you covered your face as a rush of giddiness hit you as your face began to warm up. That was the most fun you had in a while, even if it was just as simple as a long conversation. 

You thought about Harry as you cleaned up and got ready for bed. Thinking about how sweet and kind he was. You never had met anymore who was so polite and nice while looking like that. There was no denying that you found Harry attractive--anyone with eyes could see that, but there was something about his inner aura and personality that you found extremely alluring and intriguing. You wanted to uncover and unravel all of his traits. That was when you knew you were collectively fucked. 

As you went to bed, you dreamt of his green eyes and beautiful smile; drifting off to sleep, unaware that your heart was completing the gaps of Harry’s heartbeat. 

Two weeks had passed since your first hangout with Harry, and you two had been hanging out ever since. Throughout those two weeks, you’d seen him at Nonna’s three times. The first time was unexpected, when you pulled into her driveway, you saw Harry helping her walk. Nonna had a sprained ankle from missing a step when she was walking down the stairs, and luckily, Harry was a physical therapist. Seeing the sight made your heart warm. The other two times were planned and you two decided to drive to her home together. It was very domestic of you two, and the level of comfort was something you never experienced with someone you just met. Nonna was happy to see you two getting along so well, she obviously knew something you were yet to figure out. 

It was nice hanging out with him, you thought. He was a great and funny friend that could make you laugh for hours. But he was also someone you trusted that you could talk to about anything. It was  bizarre to think considering you’d only known him for a short amount of time. Harry was just so open-minded, exciting, and new. Plus, you didn’t have many friends that lived close to you, so Harry living upstairs was just a walk in the park. 

You were getting ready to have brunch with Harry and Anne. It was your first time meeting her, and you were a bit nervous if you were being honest. As Harry’s friend, you wanted Anne to like you, and you really hoped Nonna had talked you up a bit. 

A knock was heard on your front door, and you took a deep breath before answering. Harry was standing behind it, wearing a plain white t-shirt, pink corduroy pants, and a black coat. Something that took you by surprise was that he was wearing brown tortoise framed glasses that fit him so well and nearly made you melt. 

“Harry, you look very…nice.” Your breath hitched in your throat causing you to choke up a breath as he was completely breathless. 

The corner of his lips turned up. “Thank you, so do you.” You smiled. Shall we go?” You nodded and followed him out, locking your door. 

The restaurant Anne picked was not too far from your apartment complex—about 20 minutes. The entire drive to the restaurant, you and Harry sang your heart out to ABBA, pointing at each other as you both screamed out ‘You can dance, you can jive!’ 

“Y/N, it’s so nice to finally meet you,” Anne greeted you with a hug, and your nerves slightly dropped as she welcomed you with a hug. “Harry’s told me so much about you!” 

Harry gave Anne a knowing look as a way to tell his mum ‘don’t tell her everything,’ and Anne gave him the same look saying ‘I won’t.’ 

“I can’t wait to get to know you. Our table is ready,” Anne said as she pulled away from you. You nodded your head in agreement as you all followed the hostess to your table. 

Talking to Anne was something so refreshing. She was so sweet and kind, and you immediately knew where Harry got his best traits from. She also knew how to crack a few jokes here and there, making you almost spit your mimosa out or choke on your food. 

Harry watched you two interact and his eyes watched with so much fondness. His mum and soulmate getting along was something he was so grateful for because he wouldn’t know what he would do if you two hated each other. The interaction was so natural between you two that he thought you were going to be the best of friends. 

“So, I hope this is not a personal question, but have you found your soulmate, sweetheart!” Anne suddenly asked, and Harry choked on his water, making him cough reluctantly as he struggled to breathe. Anne rose from her chair as you gently slapped his back a few times to help him out. Once he was okay from his cough attack, he wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Darling, are you okay?” She gave him a concerning look. 

Harry nodded, his face slightly red from the lack of air. “Yeah, yeah. I’m good, yeah.” 

“You sure?” You asked. Your hand hadn’t left his back, and you could immediately feel the tingly feeling that spread throughout your arm like his touch shocked you throughout. Harry nodded again, reassuring you and Anne. You turned back to Anne, realizing that she had an unanswered question. “Uh, back to your question—no I haven’t found my soulmate.” 

“Really?” Her tone coming out surprising. 

You nodded. “Yeah. I thought I did, turns out he wasn’t the one.” Harry was eyeing you nervously as he sat beside you. He gulped, wanting to know everything. 

“I’m sure you’ll find them soon, sweetheart,” Anne reassured, and you gave her an appreciating smile. “Your Nonna seems quite keen on soulmates,” she pointed out. 

You nodded. “Yeah, she is. She started talking about soulmates since I was young. She found hers when she was sixteen. Her and Papa’s love was so special. Unfortunately, he passed away about five years ago you explained, and Anne frowned slightly. 

“I’m sorry to hear that, love.” 

“It’s okay! Feel like he’s always somewhat around. He owned a beach house that he passed down to me, and I go there every month, but I never change the furniture or take anything down, so it very much feels like he’s still with me,” you smiled as you told them. 

“That’s lovely, sweetheart. I’m sure he is, and I’m sure he’s proud of you.” You softly smiled at Anne’s words, appreciative of them. You felt Harry’s hand on yours that was resting on the table, and you warmed up at his touch. Turning your head towards him, you flashed him a smile and he sent you a subtle and innocent wink, making your stomach turn into knots. Luckily, you were sitting because you would have surely fallen if you were standing. 

“Where’s your beach house located, by the way?” Harry asked. 

“Monterey.” You answered and you noticed Harry’s eyes widen, glancing towards Anne. “What?” 

“I actually have a house there.” Now, that was new news. 

“Really?” He nodded. 

“Yeah, it’s in Pebble Beach. Where’s yours?” 

“New Monterey.” Pebble Beach was about a fifteen-minute drive from where your beach house was at, on opposite ends of the coast. 

Something was interesting about the fact that Harry was on the other side of your beach house. You’d been to Pebble Beach many times, sometimes walking the hour walk there to get away. If you hadn’t met Harry at Nonna’s, would you have met him at the beach house? 

You shook off the thought, realizing that Anne had changed the subject, so you listened. 

Brunch went by, and you were parting ways with Anne. You promised you would visit her when you visited Nonna, to which she beamed and hugged you tightly. Harry and Anne hugged, and they said ‘I love you’ to each other. Your heart warmed at the mother and son duo, thinking they had the best dynamic. 

You and Harry drove back to the apartment complex in comfortable silence, all the way up to his apartment. You two would take turns sharing your apartments because they both made a great hang out spot. His place was your favorite, though. The first time you stepped in it, you felt an immediate calmness to the disarray of what your reality felt like. It was like you never wanted to leave his apartment, simply wanting to cuddle into his couch with a soft blanket over you. You could possibly stay there forever, you thought. 

Harry made you both a cup of hot chocolate as it was starting to become thing for you both. It was nice; having a thing with you. It made him feel involved and important in your life. 

“Do you want to have an honesty hour?” You asked once he set your mug onto the coaster before he took a seat right beside you. 

He raised his brows. “Were you not being honest with me before?” He teased, and you nudged his shoulder. 

“I’m serious,” you giggled, and it was music to his ears. 

“I am too, but yes we could always have an honest hour. Tell me something.” He curled his lips in, and you couldn’t help but look at his mouth before you quickly glanced back up to his eyes. 

“What do you wanna know?” 

“Whatever you want to tell me. I’d be happy to listen,” he reassured. You decided you wanted to tell him what happened a month ago with the whole Eric situation. It was something you could open up to him about since he wasn’t at the wedding, so you knew he wouldn’t judge you.

You smiled softly. “It’s funny how we live in a world full of soulmates, huh?” You started. Harry’s breath hitched into his throat. He started to feel anxious right as you mentioned soulmates that led him to be speechless; he nodded instead. “Well, my Nonna has been telling me everything about soulmates ever since I was born. She constantly went on and on about it--always asking me if I’ve found mine ever since I turned thirteen. I was excited, y’know? She hyped it up so much that I couldn’t wait until I was older to find my soulmate.” Harry gulped, not saying anything. He felt a ‘but’ coming in, so he waited until you were finished. “I went through my teenage years with my friends talking about their soulmates that had found them when they were fifteen or sixteen. I was the only one alone. I don’t know why, but the universe must hate me.” 

“The universe does not hate you,” he disagreed, shaking his head at the hateful words as he slightly frowned. 

“No, it does. When I went to college, I stopped believing in the soulmate shit. I dated whoever I wanted without that pressure. But there was this one person that almost made me believe in soulmates…” you trailed off, and Harry took a deep breath. Maybe she does feel all those things for me? He thought. “His name’s Eric. I met him my last year of college…and we’re engaged--or were engaged.” Harry’s eyes widened as they slightly watered. His heart pounded through his chest as if he couldn’t breathe anymore. 

“Y-You were engaged?” He stuttered, holding back his tears. 

“Yeah. I said the universe hated me because I ran out and left him at the altar. When he was saying his vows, I thought of everything Nonna had told me. The heartbeat, the stare, the pull, everything. I didn’t feel that with him, and it was shit timing as well, but I’m pretty sure he didn’t feel the same way for me too,” you explained before taking another sip. 

“So, do you believe in it now?” He slipped in the question. 

“I mean…possibly. I know there’s someone out there for me--maybe. But I really pushed back the idea of my soulmate ever since I felt left out when I was a teenager, so I’m not entirely sure what the exact feeling you feel when you see your soulmate because I just pushed it out of my head and forgot about it.” Harry nodded understandingly. 

It made much more sense to him, and you answered all of his questions. He knew that you weren’t feeling all of those things with him. It definitely hurt him, but he’d hoped that those feelings would come around soon because he’d sat right in front of you, waiting for the right moment to tell you that he was yours. 

“Have you seen him since?” He carried on the conversation, wanting to know all the details and information that he could get. 

“Since the wedding?” Harry nodded, and you shook his head. “No, I haven’t. It’s been about a month since I saw him last. I’ve just been texting him to see if he’s doing okay because I don’t know where his head’s at, but he told me that he would call me when he’s ready to talk, which I have to respect and understand.” 

“A month?” 

Your brows raised slightly. “Hmm, yeah, a month.” Harry's heart began to beat faster, and he clasped his hands together to prevent them from shaking. “I feel bad, y’know? I feel like I’m now painted as this horrible person, but I know I am-” 

“Hey, no, you’re not,” Harry disagreed, shaking his head. “You’re pretty amazing.” Your eyes lightened up a bit. “I’ve only known you for a couple of weeks, and you’re possibly the sweetest person I’ve met. You’re funny, smart, and really fuckin’ kind. You made a decision that was going to affect your entire life. That doesn’t mean you’re a horrible person.” You didn’t say anything but nodded your head slightly with a small smile at his words. He didn’t need to hear anything from you to know that you were appreciative of his words. 

“I wanna know everything about you, H.” You changed the subject, not wanting to talk more about your failed relationship. 

His body turned warm at the sudden nickname. “Everything?” He raised his brows as he took a sip of his drink. He was a bit wary about your sudden want, but he knew that he could trust you. 

You nodded. “Tell me all your secrets,” you whispered. Your words came out seductive, which you didn’t mean to, but by the way he was looking at you, it seemed like your words had some effect on him. 

He curled his lips into his mouth as you pierced your eyes into his as his heart began to beat harder. He smirked a little, chuckling to himself at his reaction. 

“You're in for it, love. Have a lot to cover.” 

A blush formed onto your cheeks. “The floor’s yours.” He took a deep breath before he proceeding to tell you something very important to him. and he hoped he wouldn’t overwhelm you with this information. 

“When I moved here, a year and a half ago, I was diagnosed with Bradycardia Arrhythmia—my heart would beat slowly as you know. They put a pacemaker in after my second collapse. It was so sudden, and I have no idea where it came from, maybe smoking for an entire year when I was in uni, I’m not sure. But I moved here in August, so around that time, I collapsed. Mum rushed me to the hospital and they did a bunch of tests and diagnosed me, and now I have a pacemaker,” he explained calmly. 

The feeling in your chest was something you’ve never felt before. The heart tightened as he spoke every word, causing the pain to increase as your heart sank. Your eyes watered, not wanting them to fall because he didn’t need your pity. 

“Harry, a-are you okay now?” You asked, voice small. 

“Yeah, I think so. Uh, on Saturday at around eleven in the morning, two weeks before we met, I collapsed again. This time, I really couldn’t breathe. It genuinely felt like it was my last day on Earth. My lungs were closing in and my heart was slowing down. My mum was with me at my beach house, and I was lucky that she was there because she immediately called 911 and got me to the hospital.” You looked at him with fear in your eyes as you listened to the gut wrenching story. “I was gone for fifteen minutes, Y/N. Fifteen. It was some sort of miracle…” 

Then it suddenly hit you. 

It all made sense. 

Your heart suddenly opened up fully and the traces of doubt were left behind. Your mind started to piece together the reasons why you haven’t met your soulmate, and it was all right in front of you. The stories and journeys Harry had gone through had all added up. 

The beating organ in your chest had pounded so hard that you felt the beat through your ears, making it impossibly hard to hear, but your heart was fluttering uncontrollably that you couldn’t help but smile and blush. You could see it now—his stare. His eyes captivated yours as he looked so deeply into your eyes that you could stay lost in them forever and never worry about a thing. The magnetic pull and attraction towards him felt like you couldn’t hold back; that you wanted to continue being close to him as you inched closer to him. 

Your mind was coming up with different theories on why your soulmate was taking so long, but they all concluded to him. To Harry. 

It all made sense. 

The reason why it took so long for your soulmate to show was because Harry hadn’t moved here until a year and a half ago. He was still back in England getting his doctorate, and the separation between you two made it impossible to meet. Somehow your mind made up the conclusion that the only reason why you two met after Harry living here, in the same building, for a year and a half was because you were still with Eric; your time was spent on someone who wasn’t your soulmate. 

“Harry…” you whispered. 

His brows raised. “I’m okay now! Really, I am. I don’t think I’ll have any more collapses…” he said knowingly. His tone was like he knew something you didn’t, like he knew you were his soulmate. 

“Harry…” you repeated. 

“Yeah?” You reached forward to wrap your arms around his shoulders. Your actions took him by surprise, but he immediately hugged you back, hurrying his face into your shoulder. 

You had instantly felt the warmth that he provided, not wanting to pull back. You took deep breaths, and you could physically feel Harry’s heart beating in sync with yours as you two sat in front of each other. 

“Why didn’t…you tell me?” You breathed out, eyes glossy as you pulled away from the hug. 

Harry noticed your change of emotion and he looked at you with a concerned face. He gently placed his hands on the sides of your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb as your tears spilled out. 

“Tell you what?” He asked, still clueless. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were my soulmate?” You questioned. 

Harry’s breath was caught in his throat. He didn’t know if you were angry or disappointed with him, but you didn’t show any sign of anger, so he slightly relaxed. Your face was filled with confusion, and he wanted to take that away quickly. 

“You know?” 

“Yeah, I know,” you nodded, tears threatening to spill out. 

“I, uh,” he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I felt it immediately when I first met you, and I didn’t think you did yet. I should’ve told you…” he grabbed both of your hands and brought them up to his lips, kissing the back of your hand sweetly. 

Harry’s eyes watered. He didn’t know if you were happy that he was your soulmate because you haven’t said anything, so he anxiously kept kissing your hand. 

You inched forward, placing your forehead against his as both of your hands were in between you two. Your lips met with his hand before you pulled away. 

“I felt it. I felt it all when you told me your story and about your condition. It was like your heart opened up for me and my heart finally had the realization that you were right in front of me—this whole time.” You sniffled. Harry’s tears streamed down his face as the overwhelming feeling was present in his chest, making his heart pound through his chest. Your hearts were in sync with one another, so you placed your hand flat on his chest, feeling the beating organ that was giving you so much life. 

“I can’t believe this is happening…” he said in disbelief. 

“Harry…I should tell you that, uh, the first time you collapsed—when you were diagnosed with your condition, that was when Eric proposed to me. Your second collapse, a month ago, that was my wedding day. The time you collapsed was when I was at the altar. There were just so many thoughts running around in my head that I physically and mentally couldn’t be in front of my ex because I just knew he wanted the one for me,” you explained. 

Harry’s mind immediately clicked. “Then when you left the altar was when I was brought back to life…” he pieced together like a puzzle. His missing puzzle piece was you. Your eyes softened, smiling at him because at least you did some good in the last month. “You saved me.” 

“I can’t help but think that I was the one that caused all of this,” you poured, and he shook his head. 

“No, no. You didn’t. If you’re going to blame yourself for that, then I’m going to blame myself for getting together with other people back in England, causing you to not believe that you have a soulmate,” he challenged. You shook your head in disagreement. “Then we have nothing to blame ourselves for, okay? We’re here now.” 

You placed your forehead against his as you whispered,” Yeah, we are.” You close your eyes for a moment, trying to take in the events. You couldn’t believe that after knowing Harry for more than two weeks, he was your soulmate this entire time. 

Pulling away a bit, you looked at him as your eyes glimmered. The tips of your noses touched in the most delicate way as you looked at each other. The room was filled with so much clarity, light, and…love. You smiled softly as the corners of Harry’s lips turned up into a grin, dimples poking out. 

“Can I kiss you?” He finally asked, eyes looking down at your lips and back to your eyes. 

You nodded, your heart beating ten times faster. He moved your hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear before gently placing his hands on your cheeks as he moved forward to capture his lips with yours. His touch and lips ignited you as the sparks ran through your body, making you pull him closer. His lips were something you’d never felt before. They were soft, gentle, and loving as he moved in sync with you, meeting your tongue with his in such a passionate and deep way. 

You felt completely overwhelmed with happiness as you smiled into the kiss, tears rushing down your face as you knew the wait was finally over. He was here. 

Harry moved you on your back as he hovered over you, lips never disconnecting as it was something he wanted to do forever. You ran your fingers through his hair, slightly grabbing onto his curls as you earned a moan against your mouth from him. Involuntarily bucking your hips against him, you felt him grow between your legs in his flared pants as he grinded against your leg. 

He pulled away from the kiss only to kiss your jaw and neck, nibbling and sucking your skin, leaving a decent hickey on your skin. Your hands raked his clothed back, and Harry felt the way your nails dragged against his shirt, making his excitement increase because he couldn’t wait to actually feel it against his skin, only if you’d let him. 

“C-Can I, uh,” he stumbled with his words. 

“Harry, do you think we could wait?” You asked, indicating sex. His eyes widened, immediately getting off of you. 

“Oh, yeah! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“No, don’t be sorry. I just want to wait to do that with you,” you caressed his cheek. 

“Okay, that’s fair.” He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips to see if he wasn’t dreaming. 

The rest of the night was like this—you laid in his arms, stealing kisses from one another. He held you tightly, afraid that you would leave once he loosened his grip, but you were right where you needed to be. 

A week went by, and you were happier than ever. You were in complete bliss with Harry, and you never wanted that feeling to stop. It seemed like Nonna was happier than you because she’d been waiting for this moment for so long. She wanted to see you happy, even Harry, you being happy together just made her heart warm. 

You were just getting back home from doing some shopping when your phone rang. Assuming that it was your soulmate, you smiled as you searched for your phone through your purse. But what you didn’t expect was to see the contact that you have been waiting a month for. 

“Eric? Hi,” you said surprisingly. 

“Hey. Uh,” he chuckled. “This is a bit weird, isn’t it? I just wanted to call to see if you were free to talk.” 

Your eyes widened. “Yeah! I just got home. Do you want to swing by right now if you’re available?” 

“Yeah, that’d be great. The same apartment, right?” 

“The same one. I’ll see you soon,” you confirmed before you bid each other goodbye. 

You waited for Eric for about thirty minutes, distracting yourself by cleaning and tidying up your place as you constantly overthought what you were going to say to him. This was going to be the first real conversation you were going to have with him in a month, not to mention the first time you’re seeing him after you ran away and left him at the altar. 

There was a hard knock on your door, startling you. You took a deep breath before you answered it, revealing your ex-fiancé. 

“Hey, Y/N,” he smiled, giving you a hug. He seemed happier and in a better mood than you’d expected. 

“Hi, how are you?” You invited him into your home. It still looked the same the last time he came over, which had been quite a while. 

“I’m doing good, you?”

“Good as well. Coffee?” You offered. 

“Please.” 

You made him a cup of coffee, remembering the way he liked it because of the amount of times you’d made it for him in the morning. Setting it on the coaster, you sat on the other end of the couch, facing him. There was a bit of silence between you two—both not knowing where to start the conversation, but you figured you needed to get everything out of your system, so you went first. 

“Eric, I’m really sorry for how I left things. I shouldn’t have done it the way I did, and I should’ve talked to you first before we even proceeded to the wedding, but all of a sudden, it clicked. When you were reading your vows, I was just thinking of all the things Nonna said to me, and I realized…you weren’t the one. You weren’t my soulmate,” you explained. Your shoulders relaxed, finally feeling like this was the first step before you got to live your life with Harry. 

“Hey,” he reached over to grab your hand. Now, you could say that you really don’t feel the same love as before. His touch wasn’t the same as Harry’s. Eric didn't give you the spark that crawled up your skin, only Harry did. “It’s totally okay. I mean that. I understand why you did that, and I’m glad you did because I knew you weren’t the one for me either, and it took me a while to realize that until…” he trailed. 

“Until?” You encouraged him to continue, but it clicked so quickly for you. “You met someone?” He smiled, nodded his head. “Holy shit! What?!” You exclaimed surprisingly. You were the furthest from mad, and you were actually really happy for him. 

“I did, yeah. She’s great, honestly. Her name is Mandy and I met her the night of our wedding,” he chuckled. “I went to a bar and met her there. And then I felt it. It’s the most exciting and exhilarating feeling in the world,” he excitedly said. 

“Isn’t it?” You raised your brows, and Eric furrowed his brows until he got what you meant. 

“Hold on…you…wait…you met yours didn’t you?” He speculated, and you laughed. 

“Yeah, I did. Two weeks after our wedding. Actually met him at Nonna’s. Turns out, they’ve known each other for a year and a half. Can you believe that?” 

“Actually, I can. Nonna Tallie knows everything. I’m pretty sure she knew that I wasn’t your soulmate too,” he said, laughing. You laughed along, deciding not to tell him that she actually did know. 

The rest of the night went on like this. You two caught up, and shared stories and memories that made you laugh when you looked back while pouring yourselves glasses on glasses of wine. You realized that you and Eric were much better as friends, and you’re glad that it didn’t end in a horrendous way because you really cherished and appreciated him. 

The night was getting late, and you two were giggling your tipsy hearts out as your eyes were trying theirs best to stay open. You realized you couldn’t fight over your exhausted and drunk self, so you decided to call it a night. 

“Uh, you could take the couch since it’s late and you can’t drive,” you offered. 

“Really? Thank you,” he smiled. You grabbed him an extra blanket and pillow, and bid him goodnight because you went to the restroom to do your skincare because you never forget to do your night routine no matter how drunk you are. 

You crashed onto your bed, closing your eyes as you let sleep and your dreams take over you, dreaming about the loveliest man just above you and how you couldn’t wait to see him again. 

When you wanted to see Harry again, you didn’t expect it to be the way you did. 

After a long eight hours of dreaming of him, you heard a loud knock on the door, causing you to jolt awake. Still groggy as you were sitting up in bed, you heard footsteps walking towards the door, and you had nearly forgotten Eric was still in your apartment and that he was going to answer the door. 

What you didn’t expect was to hear the familiar raspy and deep voice that said ‘Who the fuck are you?’ making you quickly get out of bed and heading towards the door. Eric was shirtless, clearly still sleepy, and Harry was standing on your doorstep with a bag of food in his hands. 

The picture looked bad and wrong. With you and Eric just getting out of separate beds, respectfully, and Eric not wearing a shirt, it really wasn’t what it looked like. 

“Harry-”

“A-Are you cheating on me?” Harry asked, not knowing if those were the right words. Sure, you were his soulmate, but he hadn’t made things official yet. 

“Hey, man-”

“I’m clearly not talking to you,” he interrupted Eric, giving him a stern look. 

You gently pulled his face down so he could look at you. “Listen to me, please?” He didn’t say anything, so you continued. “This is Eric, my ex. He came here to talk last night and we had a few glasses of wine and I let him crash on the couch, that’s all.” 

Harry nodded, but his face clearly said that he wasn’t convinced. You looked at him with a sad expression, feeling useless on what you could do to get him to believe you. 

“You know…” he started. His face looked disappointed, and you wished he flashed you his smile. “I found it odd that you didn’t know I was your soulmate when I first met you, and it hurt me, to be honest. It broke my heart. I waited patiently for you for my entire life, and I waited even more when I met you and you didn’t know that it was me. I get that if you’re still in love with him, I get it. You were together for years, almost forever. But this…” he gestured towards you two. “It looks bad and it hurts me more than ever.” 

With that, he walked away. Rushing towards the staircase, you ran after him, calling for him, but he ignored you. His long strides beat yours as he took two steps at a time, and you barely kept up with him, so you just let him be for now. You sat on the cemented stairs, placing your face in your hands as you cried. Your sobs echoed throughout the empty staircase, and your heart felt like it was ripping in half—Harry’s heart breaking just added to your pain as well. 

And just when you had gotten your soulmate, you felt like you lost him. 

A week had passed since you last saw Harry, and it was one of the longest, frustrating, and painful weeks you ever had to live through. 

The face Harry had given you was something you never wanted to see. The displeasurable look made your heart drop every time you thought about it, closing your eyes, it was the only thing you could see. 

He wasn’t talking to you, no matter how many times you knocked on his door and said sorry to him through the door that most likely came out muffled from the other side. Throughout the week, you tried your hardest not to get angry for being ignored as you refrained from telling him how unreasonable he was being. But you looked at things from his perspective, and you understood why he felt that certain anxiety of seeing Eric in your apartment…shirtless, might you add. 

It took you a while to figure out how that Harry was your soulmate, and you couldn’t imagine the doubt and discouraging feeling he had when you didn’t figure it out right away. You couldn’t imagine what he felt like when he first met you and felt everything indescribable. 

For what seemed like the millionth time this week, you walked into Nonna’s house, immediately feeling the warmth and comfort you felt every single time. But it wasn’t the kind of warmth you longed for from a certain someone. 

“Hey, Nonna,” you greeted once you entered, finding her on the couch, looking through her photo albums. 

“Hi, Chip. Come in and sit with me,” she patted the space next to her, and you gladly walked over, taking a seat, looking at the pictures of her and your grandfather when they were younger. 

“My soulmate. Miss you so much,” she said to the picture of the two of them smiling at the camera, touching Papa’s face. 

Nonna flipped through the album, telling you stories about every single picture. You loved hearing memories about your grandparents as they brought so much joy to you. Nonna’s stories were the last bit of hope you had in soulmates, and you made sure to never let it go. 

You saw Nonna take out a picture out of the slip, pointing at it as she told you another story. “This was me and your Papa when we went to the beach. We were with some friends, and he told me he was going to marry me. This wasn’t where he proposed, but this was when I heard it for the first time. I was surprised, but so in love.” She smiled at the photo of her and her soulmate. Nonna handed you the picture so you could get a better look. 

In the picture, they were both sitting in the sand and she was smiling at the camera while Papa was holding her waist, looking at her with so much love. They were such a beautiful couple and quite the lookers. 

As you studied the photograph, you noticed a couple in the back who equally looked in love as Nonna and Papa were. But to what shocked you was that the couple in the back looked just like you and Harry. You softly gasped, bringing the picture closer to your eyes, making sure you weren’t just imagining things, but sure enough, the couple looked exactly like the two of you. 

“Nonna, look at this. This couple right here,” you pointed at the picture. 

She squinted before she gasped herself. “Well, that looks quite like you and my delivery boy.” 

“W-Why is that exactly us?” You stuttered, a bit spooked out.

Nonna grabbed your hand, holding it tightly. “Soulmates are destined for your future. What they didn’t tell you, or what I didn’t tell you was that, before you’re born or even conceived, the universe already plans for your soulmate because they’re quick like that. They have this stronghold that they can’t help but put together two people who are made for each other, even if they’re not even on this earth yet. In your case, the universe put you and Harry together in your past lives, way before you both were born. You and Harry were made for each other. Don’t let him go, ever.” 

Without even realizing, you felt tears fall from your eyes as she explained. Your heart felt like it was exploding with so much love. 

You needed him. You needed the air he provided. The light in your darkest days. The love that fulfilled your heart. 

You handed Nonna the picture back, but she waved you off. “Keep it. Go get him, yeah?” 

Kissing her cheek in gratefulness, you sniffled as you headed to your home. 

You found yourself exactly where you needed to be, knocking on the dark green door with the number 525 in gold. 

“Harry, please open the door,” you called out from outside. A frown settled upon your face as you continued to knock. The thought of Harry being on the other side of the door and ignoring you, made your heart ache. 

“Can't do that when I’m out here.” You turned your head to see Harry fiddling with his keys with a bag of groceries in his other hand. 

You smiled softly, rushing towards him before wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pressing yourself against him. “Missed you so much.” Your heart warmed when you felt his arm wrap around your waist, and you smiled into his shoulder. “Can we talk? Please?” You asked once you pulled away, looking at him with pleading eyes. And who was he to say no to that?

“Let’s go inside.” He walked past you, opening the door to let you in. You missed the homey feeling, and one week was too long without stepping foot into his place. He offered you a drink, but you declined, and he joined you on his sofa. 

There was an unfamiliar silence where you didn’t know if you should speak or let the silence take over you until the tension finally breaks. Harry wasn’t speaking either as he was waiting for you to speak since you were the one who almost knocked down his door with your fist with the constant knocking. 

“I’m sorry, Harry. This week has been brutal and I never want to go without you ever again. I looked at things from your perspective, and yeah, I would be frustrated and disappointed and hurt at me too. I couldn’t imagine what you were going through when you finally found me and I didn’t even know you were right in front of me. And I just want to say I’m sorry. Eric and I are over, and I don’t love him anymore. He’s already found his soulmate, and I have you…at least I think I still have you…” you said all in one breath, and your mind had gone into a spiral because you really didn’t know if you screwed things up. 

Harry breathed out a chuckle, smiling to himself as he looked down at his lap. You knew you hadn’t convinced him enough just by the way he’s silent, probably debating with himself in his head if he should believe you. So, you took out the picture Nonna had shown you from your purse, hesitantly giving it to him. 

He grabbed the picture and looked at him before he asked, “Who’s this?” 

“That’s my Nonna and Papa. Think they were, like, twenty here. But that’s besides the point…look at the couple in the back.” Harry squinted, observing the couple behind Nonna and Papa. The couple were facing the ocean; the woman was sitting in front of the man as his arms were warmed around her body. They were looking at one another, smiling brightly when the world was right in front of them. But their worlds were right in their arms. 

You noticed Harry’s eyes widen, looking at the couple again just as you did to make sure he’s not just hallucinating. He turned back to you, speechless, and you nodded. 

“That’s us in our past life. Nonna told me that the universe puts couples together even if they’re not born yet. Our souls were born to the stars and the moon. We were destined to be together decades ago, and we are now,” you hesitantly grabbed his hand, and you’re grateful that he didn’t pull away. His touch was on fire that the spark ignited into something so relieving. You looked at him so intently, and you couldn’t pull away. No matter how disappointed he was in you, there was still that sparkle when he looked at you. “Harry, I’m sorry if I made you think that I wasn’t in love with you. There is nothing more in the world than you, and you’re all I want. We’re made for each other, baby. I’ve been in love with you, I’ll be in love with you. Forever.” 

Silent tears streamed down Harry’s face as he curled his lips in. His heart was beating at a normal pace, only because it was now filled with the love and warmth that he’s asked for, and it all came from you. You filled that hole in his heart that’s been waiting to be sealed, and now you vowed to take care of it, and love and cherish it. 

Harry shifted closer to you and you smiled through your tears. He delicately touched your cheek like you were fragile glass, and you soaked in his touch that made your cheeks warm. You turned your head to kiss his palm as he cradled your face. He brought his face closer to yours and kissed the tip of your nose before resting his forehead against yours. You smiled to yourself; you thought the gesture was sweet and you missed his touch and lips so much that it had made your heart physically ache. 

“I’m gonna make you happy, baby, I promise.” 

He nodded as his heart forgave you. “And I’ll do the same. Forever.” Butterflies erupted in your stomach as he spoke so softly, and his voice was deeper and raspier. “I was overreacting the last time--I’m sorry. I just closed myself off and-”

“Hey, it’s okay. Your feelings are valid. Let’s talk about it next time, okay?” You softly suggested, and he offered you a small smile of acceptance. 

“I’m gonna love you forever,” he said.

“You better,” you teased, smirking slightly as he chuckled. 

The tip of your noses touches as you closed your eyes before Harry leaned in and connected your lips together. The lips that were molding with yours had taken you back years, and it was like you had been kissing his lips for the entirety of your life, along with your beating heart that was beating for him all along. 

pls let me know your thoughts and feelings on this! thank you for reading <3

[deceitfuldevil]

Cosmic Glitch

Baron Helmut Zemo X Reader

Summary: You always believed your soulmate was somewhere out there and that one day you'd see color, but the day you met him you refused to accept it. (soulmate AU! where you can't see color until you first look into your soulmates eyes)

Warnings: use of y/n, swearing I think?, poorly written, clearly from my drafts, headcannon turned imagine, fluff <3

Word Count: 2.2K

You had always been close with Sam ever since you served in the Air Force together, you were always up for any mission or task he needed help with.

After everyone was blipped back you had lost your job, so when Sam called you up asking you to tag along on a mission and promised compensation you couldn't turn him down.

You met Sam and Bucky in the garage and when the infamous Helmut Zemo walked in you locked eyes with him, and a fit a color exploded before you.

Zemo had stopped mid sentence

“I really don’t think I’m—“

Your heart sank deep into your chest

“Oh no” you said barely above a whisper.

“I uh, I’m not useful to this operation” he finished, stumbling over his words. Which you'd learn later on was very uncharacteristic of him.

You just stared at him as he nodded at you, a quiet hello.

Your luck was just impeccable wasn’t it? Zemo? Helmet fucking Zemo? It had to be him? The man that tore apart the avengers and bombed the UN for Christ sake! He was a fucking criminal!

The plane ride to Madripoor was above all else, awkward.

You barely spoke, not even making eye contact with anyone unless directly spoken to.

“You alright Y/n?” Sam asked, placing his hand on your shoulder.

You only nodded a small yes, feeling your soulmates prying eyes burning holes into the sight of Sam’s hand on your shoulder.

“Y/n, such a pretty name. I love the way it rolls off the tongue. Y/n.” Zemo said, toying with the sound of your name on his lips. Flustering you, but angering Bucky.

“Cool it Zemo, she’s just a kid.” He warned. Causing Zemo to wave Bucky off with his hand as he took a sip of his warm champagne.

But Bucky was right, you were just a kid. Your soulmate, the Baron for Christ sake, had to be at least 20 some years older than you.

Why did fate set you up with a man that was an adult before you were even born? Didn’t he have a wife before the battle of Sokovia? Maybe this was some kind of cosmic glitch.

I mean, it had to be... right?

Of course you wouldn’t be able to shake the Baron so easily, especially not when you needed a secret cover to pose as in Madripoor

There was only one role for you to play being so new on the “superhero” scene that you were unknown and considering you didn’t look like a single high profile criminal out there.

The Barons fiancé. His schatzi.

Obviously, you couldn’t just show up to a bar in low town in your suit either, so Zemo being ostentatious man that he is came prepared in the worst way possible.

You closed the door to first class and zipped open the black dress bag that Zemo handed you, telling you it would fit well with the part you were due to play.

A very short velvety plum dress sat in front of your color bound eyes. Ridiculously tall heels to match.

It was never something you’d wear out, you’d never have the confidence to wear such a short and expensive dress out to a bar of all places. But the material felt so good and with the new blessing of colored sight almost made you satisfied with outfit presented.

But you walked out fully dressed and maintained your attitude.

“Who am I supposed to be? A high-end hooker?” You quipped, trying to pull the hem of the dress down as far as it would go.

“You, schatzi, will be playing the part of my fiancé.” Zemo said simply. Fixing the cufflink on his left arm.

You stood there awestruck at what he had just said to you. It was hard enough for you to try and ignore that he was your soulmate but now you had to play the part?

“Oh, and you’ll be needing this” he said, digging into his pocket and flicking a ring at you. You caught it, examining it and gasping softly. You had never seen a diamond so big.

You slipped it on your finger, it fit perfectly. Which, made you smile to yourself in a way you knew you shouldn’t have.

He’s a criminal, he’s a psychopath. He’s a criminal, he’s a psychopath. You continually repeated to yourself the whole ride to low town, allowing yourself to think for even a second that just because he was your soulmate meant that he was a good person was not in the books. You simply couldn’t do it.

But as you arrived in the deeper part of Madripoor Zemo informed everyone that they must play their role to a T, because their lives depended on it.

As the car stopped Zemo walked around the side and opened the door for you, grabbing your hand and leading you out. Pressing a gentle kiss to your hand as you stood upright.

You eyes trailed up to his as a blush became evident on your face, when you locked eyes, boom, another shockwave of color screamed into your eyes. You saw the detailing in his fur collar, the bright neon signage all around, the gold detailing in Bucky’s vibraium arm, all of it.

You wanted to see color forever, you hated knowing that if you went without seeing Zemo for too long, the color would fade out.

In ordeal at the bar came and went, the business with Selby is where things got interesting and simultaneously made you nervous.

For some reason it’s almost as if Zemo could sense this because he squeezed your hand tightly and you both sat down on the couch across from Selby.

After everyone else had either been introduced or acknowledged, all that was left was you.

“And who’s this pretty little thing you’ve got yourself here Zemo?” Selby asked, clearing prodding knowing he’d been married before.

“This...” he trailed off, grabbing your left hand to show off the ring “is my beautiful fiancé” he finished

“Oh, got yourself a little trophy wife after the other one kicked the can huh?" She added, staring down the large rock sitting on your finger.

“That’s very sweet of you to think, but this one here is my soulmate. The first woman to ever make me see in color.” Zemo said, his words so sweet honey might as well as been dripping off his tongue. His gaze turned to you, boom, another bright flash of color that made a shiver run down your spine.

“Oh how sweet, but I don’t believe it.” Selby said with a grin, Sam and Bucky tensed up slightly. Siding with Selby because they too didn’t believe Zemo when he referred to you as his soulmate.

“Test me.” You challenged, stupidly if I may add.

“Excuse me?” Selby asked, quirking an eyebrow up at you

“If you don’t believe we’re soulmates, test me. I can name any color you’d like.” You continued, a part of you always looking for a challenge, the other part also wanting to test yourself see if maybe this whole color thing was faulty or one-ended.

“Fine, we’ll start easy. What’s the color of that slutty dress you’ve got on?” She asked, angry that you challenged her

“Easy, the same color as my soulmates turtle neck. A deep purple, plum if you will.” You said carefully caressing the material of Zemo’s shirt

“You could’ve been told that before you arrived, what about my lipstick?” She pressed as she pursed her lips out

“A cheap magenta” you deadpanned, done with her games. She scoffed at you.

“And this couch?” She asked grinning, patting the cushion beside her.

“Trick question. It’s a old a dirty worn out pattern, it has no specific color” you said with a fake smile, Zemo’s hand snaking around your waist as he pulled you a little closer.

The room fell silent just long enough for things to feel awkward before Selby started laughing uncontrollably.

“Well Baron, the universe certainly has picked you a handful! Now what business did you want to do with me again?” And just like that, it was over and you were suddenly running from bounty hunters on the streets.

When Sharon rescued the four of you the ride up to her place in high town was painfully silent. Zemo kept a firm hand on your thigh. Bucky stared off into space ashamed of how easily he fell back into form, and Sam sat on his thoughts wondering if you and Zemo were really soulmates.

No one really spoke to each other, just different conversations with Sharon. After what went down at the Bar and then with Selby... a mood was set, things had changed.

When Zemo stood up and announced he wanted to go join the party and made his way towards the exit you told Bucky you’d keep on eye on him. Sam wanted to protest but at that point you both were already out the door.

You sat from afar watching Zemo on the floor of the club horribly attempting to dance along with the rest of the party-goers. When you laughed a little to yourself he looked up at you, boom, that beautiful shock of color again. It never got old.

But you quickly averted your eyes and disappeared from his gaze as you went to the bar for a drink. When the bartender slid your drink over suddenly Zemo was at your side announcing he’d pay for it.

Zemo started to snake his hand around your waist once more but this time you smacked his hand away

“We’re not playing house anymore, Baron.” You told him, using his formal title.

“But you see what I see, do you not?” He asked, tentatively reaching for your hand.

“See what?” You asked, avoiding his burning gaze. You knew damn well what he was taking about but refused to admit to even yourself. He was a horrible man, a criminal, a rich psychopath! It ached your heart that someone with such a shitty past was who you were meant to be with for the rest of your life.

“The beautiful colors. I see your bright eyes, your sleek hair, those sweet pink lips. Now color is all around me too, I can see the colors of the club. I see the blue radiating off that light, the red in this drink you ordered, the green that lady’s hair! You love opened my eyes, Y/n. With you, I can see.” Zemo pressed on, smiling as he looked in awe at all the colors around him. He placed his hand gently over yours. You flinched but didn’t move away from his touch

“But this has to be wrong. I can’t be the person for you. You had a wife and kids right? Didn’t they bring any color into your life?” You asked, feeling a warm heat rise to your cheeks from the small contact you two were now sharing

“I loved my wife and son sure, but they were always grey to me. Remember that I’m a Baron, when you’re royalty your marriage options aren’t as wide as the universe has set for you.” He pointed out, taking your hand and slowly rubbing your knuckles.

“Still surely this has to be some kind of universal glitch! I mean you’re what? 20 some years older than me? What about all the horrible shit you’ve done? You’re a criminal! I was made to be a hero! We don’t mix, let alone fall in love!” You babbled on

“Listen, y/n. I am not proud of my past, I was a grief stricken man who had just lost his wife and child along with his entire country. I was only doing what I believed to be right at the moment, is that not what you try to do as well?” He asked, trying to find similarities between the two of you. Some common ground.

“Zemo I—“ you started, turning to face him and looking into his hazel brown eyes again and feeling that boom of color that would never get old, but did make you lose your train of thought.

“Zemo I’m scared” you finished off, your planned statement turning into a confession. You didn’t take your eyes off his this time as he stared back down at you. Bring his free hand to your cheek he smiled softly.

“I’m scared too, schatzi. But the feeling you give me makes me feel like everything is going to be alright. Stay with me, ride this out and see where it goes. I promise I’ll make it worth your while. Designer clothes, expensive jewelry, sport cars, you name it and I’ll buy it for you. I’ll fly you any place you’ve ever wanted to go, show you every sight you’ll ever need to see.” He tools breathe, a single tear slipping down his face.

“Please, let’s give this a shot.” He ended. Nine years with losing your wife, child, country, and being imprisoned for a few years really changed a man; and made him that much more desperate for someone like you, his soulmate, to stay.

And stay you did. The first year was rocky wrapping things up with the super soldiers on the loose and clearing Zemo’s name in the eyes of the Power Broker and the UN. Based on his efforts to take down the last of the super soldiers and good words from Sam and Bucky his sentence was reduced to one year under house arrest, which made for a great way to get to know each other better.

The years after that were far beyond smooth sailing, they were dare you even say perfect. You traveled the world with Zemo, lived the most lavish life, saw the most amazing things.

All in color.

[fallingforunrealisticromance]

Just so I could call you mine part 2 - Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

It's finally here! I'm sorry for the wait, I've only really been able to write at night - my day's have been kinda busy at the moment. But it's finished. It's quite long so sorry about that. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as you enjoyed part 1:)

Also (following a theme here) this is loosely based off of the song 'Enough for you' by Oliva Rodrigo

* = time skip

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 3503

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It had been a month since the argument. Well, I say argument, but I think downfall of the one thing that made me want to get up in the morning would be more accurate. After I’d broken down on Emily’s shoulder that night, she took me back to her place. The whole time I was there, part of me kept wishing for the phone to ring and for it to be him. It didn’t feel real. For the first few days I clung to the shred of hope that he might pull me aside at work to apologise, tell me he was wrong and wanted me back. But seeing as this is my life, that opportunity never came. We hadn’t spoken since that night. Even on cases, he would find ways to avoid talking to me. I can’t say I blame him, he’s a shitty man. And when shitty men do shitty things, they tend to run from it.

I walked into the bullpen laughing with Garcia. All the girls had really looked after me and I couldn’t be more grateful.

“Hey there pretty ladies” Morgan said, sauntering over to us.

“Why hello there handsome. Here to make us yours?” Garcia replied playfully.

“Only if you’ll have me.” Morgan bantered. Garcia just laughed before heading to her cave.

“So how are you gorgeous?” He said throwing his arm round my shoulder.

“I’m doing good. In desperate need for coffee. Don’t get me wrong I love Garcia but after only 3 hours of sleep, her bubbliness this early on has taken it out of me” I explained as we headed to the coffee machine. Derek dropped his arm and stood next to me, allowing me to make my drink.

“Only three hours huh? You having trouble sleeping?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“No, I just choose to run on as little energy as possible.” I retorted sarcastically, prompting an eye roll from him.

“You know what I meant.”

“Yeah I do, it’s just” I sighed looking down at my coffee.

“Hey.” Derek nudged my arm slightly. “What’s on your mind?” I chewed at the inside of my cheek nervously before answering.

“I guess I’m still adjusting to sleeping by myself.” I admitted. Derek nodded, wearing a sympathetic look on his face. “It’s so stupid, I should be over this by now. I mean I am over him but it’s just certain things like…ugh I don’t know. It’s just stressful.” I ranted.

“It’s normal baby. You went from, what was it nine months?”

“Eleven.” I corrected.

“Right so you went from 11 months of having someone next to you all the time, to suddenly nothing. It’s bound to take some getting used to.” He reasoned. I knew he was right. But something about the way Hotch had essentially picked up where he left off with Haley made me feel so stupid for still being hung up over him.

“Come on, let’s go see if boy genius can tell us something fun.” Derek joked as we walked back to our desks.

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

The day was almost over, and we’d had no cases, which allowed us to sort through old case files and tidy things up. As boring as that may sound, it was actually a nice break from the horrors we see on a daily basis.

“Right.” Emily said, stretching back in her chair. “I think I’m gonna head out.”

“And leave me here with the men?” I replied, pretend fear laced in my voice.

“I’m so sorry honey. You can do it I believe in you” Emily joked. The boys just swapped an annoyed look. “Sergio awaits me, so I’ll see you all tomorrow.” She said collecting her things.

“Bye Em.” I called after her. But just as she was about to leave JJ rushed into the bullpen.

“Emily stops where you are.” Emily groaned and turned around.

“Jayje I swear to god if you tell us we have a case, as much as I love you, I will be hurling my bag at your head.” Emily said. JJ just laughed at her.

“No, it’s nothing bad guys, but Rossi has invited us to dinner.” She said smiling. The way she looked at us made it seem like she was looking for some type of reaction.

“Okay? Something special about today?” Derek asked.

“Yeah that’s nice of him and all JJ but I’m really tired. Sitting in a crowed Chinese restaurant really wasn’t really what I planned to do tonight” Emily replied. JJ sighed.

“Fine. I mean if none of you want to come back to Rossi’s mansion for a bite to eat then I get that. Have a nice night with your cat Em.” JJ turned to walk away but at the sound of us all scrambling out of our seats, she turned back and laughed.

“Screw Sergio I wanna explore this guy’s house.” Emily said walking over to JJ.

“God you lot are so nosy” She joked as we all walked down to the parking lot.

“What do you expect? The guys a mystery so if there’s an opportunity to snoop of course we’d take it.” I chuckled.

“I just wanna see if he has a first drafts of his books lying around. I can almost imagine how much he left out.” Reid piped up.

“Of course, that’s what you wanna see pretty boy” Derek said patting Reid on the shoulder. We all hoped into our separate cars to go home and change before re convening at Rossi’s.

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

The night was going great. It was so nice to be able to just take a night off – eat, drink, chat – without the stress of a case looming over our heads. Not to mention Rossi’s house was incredibly impressive. I mean if I could somehow make this man my sugar daddy and inherit this place, I’d be on it in an instant. Aaron was here, which didn’t surprise me. But what did is how relaxed he was. I’d seen it all the time when we were together but somehow seeing it tonight felt strange. Almost as if he’d dismissed the whole situation.

“Okay I wasn’t that bad guys.” Emily protested, snapping me from my thoughts.

“You told Spencer you were going to kill him if he didn’t stop being so loud.” Hotch said.

“That’s understandable on a hangover.” Emily reason.

“Em, I was just turning the pages of my book.” Spencer replied laughing. Emily spluttered over her words, but nothing came out causing the rest of us to join spencer. Suddenly the doorbell rang out. We all looked around confused.

“We’re not expecting anyone else are we?” Garcia asked.

“Um” Aaron cleared his throat.

“I think I might know who that is.” My heart sunk as he got up and walked to the door. Everyone swapped a look, trying to catch my eye but I just starred ahead of me. He wouldn’t have actually invited her. Right?

“Hey honey.” Her voice travelled through the halls causing my heart to not only sink even further, but completely shatter in the process. At least at work I could block out the fact he was with her but now he was just rubbing salt in the wound. Emily finally caught my gaze and shot me a supportive look. I just nodded, offering a tight-lipped smile. Eventually the pair of them came back.

“Hey guys, you know Haley.” Hotch said, looking slightly uncomfortable. Everyone greeted her politely enough, but it didn’t take a profiler to feel the shift in the atmosphere.

“Let me get you a chair.” Rossi said, going to stand up. “No, it’s fine, I’ll just sit here” She stated before promptly positioning herself in Aaron’s lap. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I couldn’t watch this. The seven of us sat in a cripplingly awkward silence for a few moments before JJ finally spoke up.

“So, um Haley, how’s jack doing?” She asked politely. “Oh, he’s doing great. Very happy to have his daddy around a lot more now.” Haley responded in a smug tone. As she spoke, she glanced over at me. Clearly noticing my appearance, she threaded her fingers through Aaron’s hair. I averted my gaze, opting to study the details of Rossi’s floor. I heard Hotch clear his throat, almost as if he wanted her to stop. “

I’m glad he’s happy.” JJ replied.

“So am I. Before it was just so hard what with his job and, well – other arrangements – Aaron barely had time for his own son you know. But luckily that’s all been dealt with now.” Haley leant forward and I heard her placing a kiss on his cheek. I couldn’t take this anymore; she was clearly taunting me and as I much as I hated giving into her games – this was so much worse.

“Excuse me.” I said, standing up and heading towards the garden. It took everything inside of me not to break down right then and there. But the minute I reached the garden I lost it. The tears streamed down my face as I tried to quiet my sobs. My heart ached. It felt like everything was crashing down around me. My chest felt hollow. I thought I was over this, over him. I could feel my knees growing weak under me so opted to sit by the edge of the pool, in the hopes to grab some sense of normality. It was a nice night out. It was summer so still warm, but there was enough of a breeze to keep it bearable. I’m sure if looked up I would’ve been able to see the stars, but I was transfixed on the water. Suddenly I heard the back door open. I didn’t turn around, not wanting to face whoever it was.

“I’ve always wanted a pool.” Emily’s voice came from beside me. She sat down, placing her legs in the water next to mine. “I’d love to have this house too.” She stated taking in her surroundings. “What do you say, wanna take Rossi down together and claim all this for ourselves?” She asked nudging my arm. I let out a stiff chuckle but didn’t say anything. Emily took a deep breath before she spoke.

“I’m sorry you had to sit through that” Her voice was sincere. “I don’t know if Hotch invited her, or she just rocked up, but it was out of order either way.” I nodded not trusting my voice right now. “You should know, the rest of us were just as angry. Derek left a few moments after you. He went into the kitchen, but he didn’t come back. I had to send Spencer after to him just to check he wasn’t tearing the place up.” She said light-heartedly. That gave me some comfort, to know I wasn’t being overly sensitive. She let her words hang in the air for a moment and we enjoyed the stillness of the night.

“I just thought.” I began, my voice rough from crying. “That maybe it wasn’t real. Maybe they weren’t actually back together you know?” I turned my gaze towards Emily. She understood. That was one of my favourite things about her. No matter what the situation, whether she’d experienced it herself or not, she was always so deeply empathetic that it helped.

“Listen, nothing I say right now is going to make this any easier. Sure, I could sit here and tell you what a douche bag he’s being” I smiled at her words. “But I know that wouldn’t change anything for you. So, I’ve just come to let you know that we’re all here for you. Take as much time as you need, and when you feel comfortable, come back and join us inside.” She said squeezing my hand.

“Thank you Em. For everything.” She just smiled before standing up and heading inside. By this point I’d stopped crying. You know that moment of calm you experience right after you’ve stopped crying, just before the headache or tiredness kicks in, that is probably my favourite feeling. Which sounds somewhat depressing, but everything just feels so at ease in that moment. Unfortunately, I could not bask in it for long as I heard the back door slide open once again. Thinking it was Emily I called out to her.

“Please don’t tell me I’m going to come in there and see you forcing Rossi to sign us into his will.” I joked, turning around. But instead of being greeted with my friends’ heart-warming chuckle, I saw the man who’d caused this little escape to the garden. It was Aaron.

“Hotch.” I said surprised, scrambling to stand up.

“Hi.” He replied. He looked nervous, relentlessly fidgeting with his hands. It wasn’t normal.

“Why are you here?” I didn’t bother trying to make small talk. What would be the point?

“Um, well I…I just wanted to…” His voice trailed off as he looked to the ground. “Can we sit down?” He asked after a moment. I nodded and made my way over to the beautiful table Rossi had. Aaron sat down but didn’t say anything, just starred ahead of him.

“Are you going to talk or what?” I said bluntly. He looked surprised at my tone but cleared his throat before answering me.

“I just wanted to check on you.” His voice was low, almost as if he didn’t want me to hear what he was saying.

“Check on me?” I replied clearly irritated.

“Yeah I mean you just took off back there, so I wanted to make sure you were okay” He said literally looking anywhere but me. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. He’d spent a whole month doing the most to avoid talking to me and now, not only he dangles his happiness in my face , but he also has the audacity to ask if I’m okay?

“Yeah I wonder why that is?” I shot back. Hotch went to reply but I cut him off. “No no let’s think about it. What could have possibly made me leave? Was it the fact that Derek telling a story? Nope that doesn’t seem to be it.” I said sarcastically. “Oh, maybe Spencer was rambling about something random? No doesn’t sound right? Gosh I just – I don’t know what it could have been. You got any ideas” I continued. Hotch starred at me, annoyed by my games but not enough to reply. “Wait I remember, it was the fact that my ex-boyfriend just wanted to shove the fact that he’s moved on and obviously didn’t give a fuck about me or our relationship further down my throat!” I concluded, standing up to leave.

“That is not fair.” He called after me. I stopped in my tracks, the anger growing inside of me.

“What? What about that is unfair to you?” I replied folding my arms over my chest.

“For you to say I didn’t care about our relationship” he said, his voice laced with annoyance. I scoffed at his words.

“Really? I think it’s perfectly fair considering how you’ve acted. It’s clear that you have no respect for me or what we were.”

“Just because I spend more time with Haley now doesn’t mean that I’ve just disregarded our entire relationship.” He sounded exasperated.

“Spend more time with her? Hotch she was practically fucking you on the chair in there.” I yelled. I’d tried so hard not to lose it but his lack of understanding right now was getting too much for me. “I loved you so much. I gave everything I had into that relationship, and you’ve thrown it all back in my face over one twisted story that your wife decided to spin.” I ran my fingers through my hair trying to calm down. The last thing I needed was for the rest of the team to hear this. Although I didn’t care if Haley did. That bitch. “I don’t know what I did wrong to make you choose her. Maybe I just wasn’t as interesting as her, but you could not have cared less about someone who loved you more. She dragged you down, manipulated you into believing it was your fault that she fucked those other guys. Or when she made you feel bad for choosing to stay in a job that literally makes the world as safer place for people like her or Jack. All I ever wanted was to support you and be there for you to lean on. I wanted to be that one person you could turn to when you felt like the world was crumbling down and you would feel okay. I just wanted to be enough for you. Because that’s what you were for me.” I ranted. Unfortunately, this time I’d been unable to hold back my tears, but I was hoping the darkness of the garden would hide that. Aaron looked crushed, almost guilty. Part of me hurt to seem him like that but another part reminded me he deserved it. I’d say he broke my heart, but he broke much more than that.

“You were that to me too.” He mumbled. His voice was so quiet I wasn’t sure I’d heard him. Clearly noticing my lack of response, he continued. “You meant so much to me and I can’t tell you how painful it’s been without you.”

“Doesn’t really seem like that” I scoffed. He sighed before walking over to me.

“Listen the thing with Haley-“

“If you’re about to tell me why you’re back together with her, please don’t. I can’t handle that right now.” I begged.

“No listen. We aren’t together.” His words took me by surprise.

“What?”

“The night everything kicked off, I’m not going to lie – I did believe her. I mean when she told me that you’d told JJ everything about the divorce, yeah I was mad. It took me so long to open up to you about that, you know the insecurities and the fact I thought Jack was going to resent me or not want me in his life. I trusted you and you just threw it out the window.” I starred at him in shock, unable to speak. Hotch being who he was picked up on my reaction. “What is it?” He asked.

“I can’t believe that’s what she told you.” I said utterly blown away by the fact that Haley was able to lie about something so huge with such ease.

“What do you mean? Are you trying to tell me that’s not what happened?” He sounded apprehensive.

“It couldn’t be further from the truth. She called me to ask where you were and when you’d be home. She must have thought I was lying because then she called JJ. JJ told her she knew she’d rung me and then she hung up.” I explained. Hotch looked just as confused. “I would never tell anyone those things Aaron. No matter how much you hurt me.” He didn’t reply. He looked so torn. “I tried to explain that to you on the night, but you weren’t listening.” I spoke. That caught his attention.

“I know I just felt so betrayed I guess it blinded me.” He replied. “The only reason I’ve stayed as close with her as I have recently is because she was going to keep me away from Jack. I know she had no solid grounds to hold that to and we could have taken it to court if it had gotten that bad, but fathers hardly ever win full custody. I didn’t want to risk it.” He explained. I nodded.

“I understand.” I got it. Jack was his world. And losing him might have just broken him. “

I can’t begin to explain how sorry I am that I let her get between us. I should’ve known, I-I should’ve trusted you.” He rambled. He begun pacing back and forth.

“Hey.” I reached out a grabbed his arm. “Yes you should have trusted me, I’m not going to act like what happened didn’t hurt. But you’re not a mind reader Aaron. You believed the first story you heard. I get it.” I reasoned. Tentatively, he reached out and took my hands in his, rubbing gentle circles with his thumbs.

“I missed you. Everyday.” He whispered.

“I did too. I loved you.” I replied softly. His gaze caught mine.

“Loved?” He asked his eyes wracked with worry.

“Part of me still does. I can’t just shut those feelings down. But what you did broke me. And I don’t want to risk that happening again.” I confessed. He nodded.

“I guess I’ll just have to prove myself to you. Because trust me, you’re all I want. And I’ll wait however long you need me to.” He replied. I smiled up at him and wrapped my arms around his neck as his arms travelled to my waist. Maybe we would get back together or eventually just drift apart, but right now I had my best friend back. And that’s all I cared about.

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Tag list: @jhiddles03 @rexit-mo @gothicwidowsworld @donttellanyoneireadfanfiction @llilithsdaughter @azenpal @captainrogers-19 @ijustwannaread2k19 @spngirl05 @stiles-argent24 @joyofbebbanburg @romanogersendgame

[solomonish]

way to go mc, you’ve allowed yourself to be poisoned (nowdateables)

CW for: descriptions of food and eating, brief descriptions of choking-like symptoms. (mainly in the intro, though the individual stories mention coughing, (light) blood and fainting). there will be talk of food and keeping an eye on what is being eaten in the individual character stories as well.

find the brothers here!

When you start coughing:

You’re at a sort of banquet when it happens, which is as embarrassing for you as it is horrifying for him

At first, the brother nearest you just assumes you’re choking, but just as your coughing gets loud enough to attract attention you’re already falling to the ground, covering your mouth.

Diavolo immediately moves towards you but he’s ushered away because nobody realizes it was a fumble on the new chef’s part and can’t take the risk of it being some kind of botched assassination attempt, and some of his staff have to drag him away as he watches helplessly over his shoulder

He sends Barbatos to check on you and sees him kneeling beside Simeon, who is already focusing on you, when he leaves the room.

Taking care of you afterwards:

What he couldn’t do when you were facing the brunt of the poison, he makes up for in taking care of you afterwards.

You wake up in a soft bed, much bigger than any you’ve ever been in before. He’s not touching you, but he is watching you as he lies on his side next to you, propping his head up on one hand. His eyes seem to glow in the dark room, and you think for a moment “huh, funny how this should be something that scares me to death.”

Diavolo is normally a pretty boisterous guy, but when he sees you’re awake and smiles at you, you see the softer, more serious side of him.

Diavolo tries to insist that you either go to the human realm for care or allow him to bring someone, but you point out that the whole program he’s got going on is a little abnormal and it would probably take too long for them to adjust.

He settles for someone you know, like Satan, Simeon or Solomon. He treats them with such firmness, though, you see their eyes flicker to you like “?? is this the same person?”

Diavolo is with you every spare moment he can get: in between meetings, cancelling any non-essential tasks, taking paperwork into the room and sitting with you while he does it

Lucifer probably has a sleepless week ahead of him, picking up his slack :(

Is very gentle with you and lets you take as much time as you need off from school

Afterwards, does thorough checks on his cooking staff and starts drafting mandates to add human-safe options in any restaurant or other eatery you choose

even asks for your input on any human dishes you think should be recreated. the food industry may hate you but hey, now you get to eat the Devildom version of your favorite food wherever you go!

When you start coughing:

Barbatos would never accidentally poison you. He is too practiced in his diligence. He would also never allow you to accidentally poison yourself - the watchful eye he keeps on the prince is not reserved for him.

If you were to somehow be poisoned, accidentally or due to the ill will of somebody else, he wouldn’t be in the same room.

That’s not to say he isn’t immediately alerted and, if he’s close by, he’s making his way to you immediately.

Barbatos has a relatively calm and even pleasant demeanor, but the solemn frown he has on his face when he enters the room silences any chaos your fainting might have caused.

Taking care of you afterwards:

When Barbatos needs to give stellar care, he just defaults to the royal treatment. lucky you, right?

He doesn’t have the most time to stop by and check on you - and the brothers probably whisked you away to the House of Lamentation before he could offer you a place closer to him. (they have the Devildom’s most capable medical staff on hand, yes?)

He definitely does visit you - sometimes Diavolo arrives under the guise of having to talk to Lucifer and lets Barbatos go to you, others he just shows up.

Definitely scrutinizes every little thing the brothers are doing for you and then decides to do things himself.

Soon enough he has traded out your pillows and blankets for much softer ones from the palace, and he makes sure you’re equipped with any potions or even human painkillers you may need while your body recovers.

If you ask him why he’s getting so into it, he just says “What can I say? I only know how to give the best treatment. I’ve had plenty of practice with My Lord.”

When he bends down to press a kiss to your forehead, give him a smirk and ask “oh? is this part of the special treatment Diavolo gets too?”

He’ll just give you a wry smile. You’re lucky he’s still got to treat you gently. “Save such jest for Lucifer, my dear.”

When you start coughing:

He probably did it himself

Everybody already knows his reputation with preparing food, and after you live for however many years and plant names change, you forget some of the names of what is and isn’t poisonous to a regular human.

When you start coughing, he isn’t even concerned - it’s more of an “ah shit, here we go again” reaction because he’s used to this

It isn’t until you fall on the floor that he gets...suspicious.

“Come on MC, don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic?” He asks, not even bothering to hide his disappointment

It isn’t until you don’t answer and he can hear you practically wheezing that he realizes what he’s done

He kneels down to the ground beside you and rubs your back in an attempt to show that he realizes what is going on and looks at the counter, where some of the ingredients he used are still sitting

He stares at a devildom plant that looks suspiciously like mint for a few moments before it clicks that it’s well liked in the devildom for the intense burning sensation it gives

Taking care of you afterwards:

Solomon is as adept at poison remedies as he is at accidentally poisoning people. (he wasn’t always immortal, after all. he’s had to live with his dangerous curiosity way before he figured that out.)

He’d keep you in Purgatory Hall for the first day, seeing the sorry state you were in.

Would offer you his bed to rest while he sits cross legged on the ground next to you, back against the bed with a spell book. Sometimes he’ll crack open an easy one and talk you through some of the simpler spells, and others he reads it for himself while you rest.

Isn’t big on the proactive care but all you need to do is say his name and he’s ready to get anything you need <3

Only tells the brothers that you’re staying the night because he doesn’t want them to kick the door down. Only tells them why because Asmo started making assumptions in the group chat

Everybody afterwards will tell you that honestly, what else did you expect to happen? It’s Solomon’s cooking, MC. Really.

Solomon figures you’re fine figuring out what foods are safe on your own, but since it was someone you supposedly trusted that poisoned you, he finds himself eyeing any food given to you by a friend. However, since HE was the one who actually poisoned you, this most often ends in intense stare-offs that you have to break up

When you start coughing:

Angels don’t have to be as careful as humans - after all, their lives and bodies aren’t nearly as fragile as yours is.

He doesn’t notice that there’s something in the dish you can’t eat, but he does notice the moment you realize something is wrong.

Watching a human realize that they’ve just put their life in danger is a horrible thing, and the look in your eyes sent his blood pressure skyrocketing before your coughing even got super bad.

He can see your lips swelling and that’s when he looks at the salad on your plate.

He doesn’t dare leave your side, and instead opts to send an emergency message to EVERYONE.

Surprisingly, the “MC. POUSOND. NOW. 💀” gets the message across fairly efficiently.

Taking care of you afterwards:

Being under the care of an angel is a heavenly experience indeed.

Simeon is allowed to stay with you while you recover, offering you multiple soothing drinks and chapsticks to help alleviate your pain.

He keeps your room clean and cool so your environment is as peaceful as can be!

Any gifts the brothers offer, he gives to you personally.

He jokingly offers to spoon-feed you, and if you take him up on the offer you’re both blushing by the end of it.

Once you’re better, he’ll find you at lunch and cheerfully remind you to look what’s on your plate. if you brush him off, he’ll just smile and say something like “don’t you remember what happened last time?” but his smile says something dangerous

When you start coughing:

HE. FREAKS. OUT.

Most likely to think this was a direct attack on you and he’s ready to throw hands. Simeon has to place a hand on his shoulder to get him to calm down.

His voice gets higher the more he fights to get close to you, and Simeon starts gently leading him away while sending concerned glances over his shoulder

Taking care of you afterwards:

The first time he brings you sweets and the demons feel the need to check it over and refuse to give it to you he almost cries

He’s not the one who hurt you, and he worked hard on those!!

Simeon tells him that your stomach might be upset still and that makes him feel a little better, because at least he didn’t directly offend you like that.

Will get “angry” (read: pouty) if you don’t let him PERSONALLY inspect what you’re eating for anything poisonous

Can be found at the kitchen table in Purgatory Hall, hunched and asleep as he drools over cookbooks with human-safe recipes 

[atlabeth]

fever - sokka x reader

this has been sitting in my drafts half finished for 3 weeks so i thot it was prime time i actually finished it

this is kinda based off the song w dua lipa and angele so you can listen to that if you want

summary: sokka's convinced there's a mystery illness keeping you from focusing, but somehow he's completely oblivious that the only 'sick' you are is lovesick, and he's the reason you can't focus.

a/n: i have never written a sickfic. but this is like. a fake sick fic. its an idiots in love fic. i mean this is coming from mr "is he taller than me? is he better looking?" himself so. it makes sense. as usual, this is not proofread bc im a lazy mf

also im sorry for being vague with the calc but i was NOT about to do math during summer who do you think i am? ??

wc: 1.7k

warning(s): mentions of being sick and 🤢calculus 🤮 but otherwise tooth rotting fluff

-

How could the smartest man you knew be so, so incredibly stupid?

You thought that you were being obvious, so obviously that you were sure he knew. It was embarrassing how obvious you were.

You had met Sokka in your calculus class at the start of the new semester after you ended up sitting next to each other, and it wasn’t a stretch to say that you were immediately smitten. With eyes like the ocean and a face that had to have been crafted by the gods, you were almost too distracted to respond when he asked you for a pencil. But when he winked at you after giving his thanks, it only solidified what you had already suspected: you had known this man for all of five minutes, and you already had a crush on him.

Little did you know, it was going to turn into the most infuriating crush you had ever experienced.

You and Sokka became fast friends even though calculus was the only class you had together. Unfortunately, it was also something that you completely sucked at. Bad news, it was required for your major. Good news, Sokka was some sort of genius and offered to tutor you — Wednesdays in the library turned into a weekly occasion, and served as an opening for your calculus skills, your feelings for Sokka, and your exasperation to all grow stronger.

You normally weren’t someone to beat around the bush. If you started to like someone, you told them and dealt with whatever happened after, but something about Sokka just kept you from spilling your feelings outright. You knew that if he didn’t feel the same way, your relationship likely wouldn’t change, but there was still that tiny voice that said it’s better to stay like this in case things do go wrong — and this was the first time you listened to that voice. You simply valued your friendship too much.

But that didn’t mean you were going to be completely quiet about it — you hoped that if you did enough, he would be able to realize you liked him and do the whole process for you. A bit of a dim hope, but crushes make people do stupid things.

Things like bringing an extra coffee to every session, laughing at all his jokes (even the bad ones), sitting a little closer to him than usual, not dropping out of this wretched class so you could spend time together (it might’ve been required, but you still counted it). He didn’t make a point to object to anything, so you knew you weren’t making him uncomfortable — but you had concluded after nearly a whole semester of working and studying together that he was the most oblivious person in all of Ba Sing Se. He could teach you all kinds of formulas, but had no idea that you liked him. Grand.

Today was arguably the most important session out of any of them, seeing as your next class was the final, so it was only fitting that Sokka unknowingly made himself more interesting than any material you could’ve been working with. His arms were going to be the death of both you and your calc grade. You swore that the heat rushing to your cheeks was actually emanating off of you.

“Hey, Y/N!” Sokka grinned as he saw you and raised a hand in greeting, a sentiment you would’ve returned had it not been for the coffee cups in your hands. You settled for mirroring his grin and settled down in the seat across from him. You slid his coffee cup over, set your own down, then shrugged your bag off all before taking a seat.

“You ready to study ‘till your eyes bleed?” he asked, prompting a nervous laugh from you.

“You jest, but my eyes might actually start bleeding depending on how long we go,” you sighed. “There’s a reason I got an extra shot of espresso today.”

“Come on — by now you should know that you have nothing to worry about! I am the best teacher there is, and you got me all to yourself.”

Your eyes widened momentarily and you coughed, purposefully averting your gaze to give yourself some time to recover. Okay, he was going to make it really hard to focus today. “Let’s just get into it.”

He nodded and flipped open his notebook, beginning to talk as he rifled through his bag for a few extra things. “Okay, we’re just gonna start with going over the basics, then we’ll work our way up. There’s a couple practice problems on that page, so you can go ahead and answer those as a warmup.

You slid the notebook over in front of you and after approximately five seconds of looking at the first problem, found yourself studying Sokka rather than the material. Who could blame you? In the battle of cute tutor boy versus calculus, he was going to win every time.

He turned around and you immediately averted your eyes once again, trying to appear extremely involved, but you found that your mind was empty on anything to do with math. “Hey, uh— how do you do this first one? I’m totally blanking here.”

“We use limits in everything — this is actually something you’re really good at!” He studied you intensely and frowned. “Are you okay? Like, you’re not sick or anything, are you? You seem kinda out of it.”

You choked out a laugh and shook your head. “No, no — I’m fine. I guess I’m just a little tired.” As if to demonstrate your lie, you took a sip from your coffee and cringed internally. Love had turned you into an idiot.

He seemed to buy it as he nodded and picked up the pencil, scribbling a couple of notes as he explained the first problem to you. “Does that make sense?” You nodded and he handed the pencil back to you. “Okay — the other ones follow the same kind of process. It should be easy enough.”

You managed to get a little further in the second problem, but your lovestruck mind would not stop focusing back on Sokka every time you tried to do, well, anything. Curse him and his perfect arms, and eyes, and hairstyle, and everything.

You shook your head and set the pencil down once more, letting loose a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” Yes, you did. “I just can’t focus at all.” Because of you. You picked up your cup once more and took a sip, hoping it would do something to get you back into the math state of mind.

Sokka frowned once more as he put the back of his hand against your forehead. “God, you’re hot.” You nearly choked on your coffee as your eyes practically bulged out of their sockets — he had to know what he was doing by now — how could he not? “Like, you’re completely burning up. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, I swear— I just…” you set your cup down on the table and heaved a sigh that was a touch more exasperated than necessary. “Are you telling me you seriously haven’t noticed? Like, not a single thing this whole year?”

“I’ve noticed a lot of things this year,” he chuckled. “It’s kind of our whole job, so you’re gonna have to be a lot more specific.”

You finally couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Sokka, I’m not— I’m not sick! Haven’t you noticed that I’m only ever flustered, or running into things, or forgetting info, or— or just a complete idiot when I’m around you? I like you, like, a lot, and I have for an embarrassingly long time! The reason I can’t focus is because I am hopelessly attracted to you in every single way.”

His brows creased for a moment and you clamped your mouth shut, worried that you had just ruined everything. It was only after a pause that felt like a century that he finally responded, the hint of a smirk on his lips.

“Well, why didn’t you just say something?”

You stared at him, eyes wide and lips slightly parted in pure surprise before the annoyance set in. You set your jaw as your brows furrowed and you hit him lightly on the side of his arm with the back of your palm. “You can’t be serious! You— you’ve gotta be messing with me by now. I really can’t believe that you can be that smart but this oblivious!”

He finally let the grin play across his lips in full force and he shrugged nonchalantly. “I mean, I don’t know how you don’t expect me to mess with you when you scrunch up your face all cute like that every time you get mad. Besides, I started liking you after that fifth class; I offered to help you out so I could spend more time with you! I didn’t realize you felt the same way. I kinda just enjoyed the free coffee and getting to look at you all the time.”

“I can’t believe you!” you cried as you hit his other arm. “You’re telling me that I had to deal with this- this mental turmoil about whether you liked me back, while you were just enjoying the free eye candy and coffee the whole time?”

“You have nothing to worry about! I enjoyed the company far more than the coffee,” he joked, a certain twinkle in his eye. “But, you are probably out a couple twenties after all of that. So, what do you say about this Saturday, the cafe by the shoe store? My treat.”

“Damn right it’s your treat,” you shot back, though you couldn’t stop the smile forming on your face. “You owe me a lot — you have to make up for those coffees and all the emotional distress you caused.”

“Oh, I think I’ll have plenty of time to make up for lost time. After all, we do have a lot of coffee dates to get through.” And when he winked at you just like that first day, you remembered just how impossible it was to be angry at Sokka. “But first, we kinda have to get through this study date. The final’s still happening tomorrow.”

You responded with a raised brow. “This is a study date?”

Sokka shrugged and grinned. “They’ve all been study dates. You just didn’t know it.”

-

idiots in love idiots in love idiots In LOVe

perm tag list: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77

atla: @marianne1806

[luckhound]

— heavy burdens.

pairing.  kaeya/gender neutral reader

genre.  angst

description.  on an important anniversary, kaeya gets drunk off his ass, bonds with a fellow captain, and realizes some burdens can’t ever be set back down.

warnings.  spoilers for kaeya and diluc’s character stories. mentions of alcohol and a character (kaeya) being under the influence.

note.  four months later and i’ve finally finished this fic after writing it on and off for that whole time mskfjdks a big thank you to sierra, miya, and grace for reading over the previous drafts of this and giving me their honest thoughts, love you ladies <3

He hadn’t expected to get shitfaced when he had first stepped foot in the tavern. Honest.

His plan for the evening was as follows: Go to Angel’s Share, chat with patrons, share some laughs, learn some secrets, and see where the night goes. Only the information he gleaned would tell how it ended; with him stumbling back to his quarters for a night’s rest, or ruminating on how to dismantle schemes that enemies of Mondstadt were concocting in the shadows.

So, the usual. Nothing too noteworthy.

Then he happened to overhear a conversation on the way there.

The two civilians spoke in low, somber tones about how it has been exactly one year since Master Crepus’s death and his son Diluc’s subsequent departure from Mondstadt. How terrible, they mused as they shook their heads, that the new winery master hasn’t been heard from since. He must still be in mourning over his father.

Kaeya nearly stopped in the middle of the crowded street. Was today really the one-year anniversary of Master Crepus’s death? How had it managed to slip his mind? He’s been busy lately with a promising lead, true, but to think that he would forget...

Which, long story cut ruthlessly short, leads him to where he is now. Tuning out his tumultuous thoughts with the help of alcohol and secrets.

Upon entering the tavern to raucous cheers, he had flitted from table to table like the social butterfly he's purported to be. The usual suspects greeted him with varying levels of warmth, inviting him to sit and keep them company. Stable hands and bandits alike shared a drink with him, words spilling from their lips like the fine wine they supped on.

After some time, though, he grew tired of their monotonous days and banal gripes. So he retreated to the bar counter. As he nursed a Death After Noon, he kept an ear out, listening carefully even as he chatted with Charles between customers.

Unfortunately, he hasn’t heard anything juicy yet. So and so is complaining about his wife, while someone else is haranguing her boss, and another is celebrating their birthday. Dull and uninteresting.

Can you blame him for getting so deep in his cups? There’s nothing else to do on such a slow night.

“So this is where you decided to hide out. Colour me surprised.”

Kaeya notes the shadow falling over the counter moments before a familiar drawl reaches his ears. He tilts his head up, blinking furiously when his vision blurs. The drinks he's downed thus far—how many has it been? He lost count after five, how unlike him—have certainly reached his bloodstream.

You stand beside his stool, your lips thinned into an unimpressed line. Despite how inebriated he is, the relevant information he has on you flashes through his mind. A Knight of Favonius. Captain of the Intelligence Team. Once a company grade officer, then sergeant, lieutenant, before ascending to captain upon the retirement of your superior.

As admired as he is by most of Mondstadt, you’re among the minority who are far from his biggest fans. For good reason, he supposes. During your first meeting, he had congratulated you on your promotion, before going on to flippantly insult your old captain. You’ve hated him ever since.

Which is why he’s puzzled by you approaching him first—outside of headquarters, at that. Such a phenomenon is rare, like catching a crystalfly in your hands.

“Captain! Fancy seeing you here,” he greets, adopting a jovial tone. Then your words register in his addled mind. “‘Hide out’, you said? Whatever would I do that for?”

You prop a hand on your hip. “You didn’t make an appearance at the meeting today. Needless to say, the Dandelion Knight isn’t too impressed with you at the moment.” You appraise him, looking underwhelmed by what you see. Ouch. “Strange. You don’t seem terribly ill to me.”

Ah. That. Kaeya had wanted to investigate some curious rumours he’d heard around the city, so he made up a flimsy excuse to dodge the captain’s meeting held this morning. Grand Master Varka likely hadn’t batted an eye over it, but not Jean. She’ll have concerns.

He hums noncommittally. The thought of annoying his oldest ally never fails to bring a smirk to his lips, but he isn’t quite in the mood right now. “Is that so. You must be here to sternly tell me to clean up my act then.”

You scoff. “Surely you don’t need a second babysitter. No, I’m off-duty, so I’m here for the same reason everyone else is: to drink.”

“Hear, hear.” He lifts his tankard as if to toast to you, but the sudden momentum causes him to sway dangerously in his seat.

“Careful!” Eyes widening in alarm, you reach out to steady him. “Geez, Alberich. How many drinks have you had?”

The palm of your hand is warm where it sits on his shoulder; he can tell that even with his furs in the way. He almost leans into the touch but catches himself at the last second. How mortifying. He can just picture your horrified reaction to him drunkenly nuzzling up against you.

Almost falling off his seat in a crowded tavern, instinctively seeking out your slightest touch... He needs to get a hold of himself. Or find a way to halt the conversation here, so he can resume drinking by his lonesome.

“Not nearly enough,” he answers airily, leaning an elbow on the bar counter. You drop your hand to your side; he makes a point to not stare at it as you do. “Where’s your entourage? I’m surprised they aren't following dutifully behind you.”

“They’re my subordinates, not my entourage.” You shift awkwardly. “And they aren’t here. It may surprise you, but they have lives outside of the Intelligence Team. They can enjoy one evening without their captain breathing down their necks.”

He eyes you in amusement. “In that case, you should join me. I would welcome the company.” He finishes off his tankard, then motions to Charles for another drink. The bartender doesn’t even ask which one as he takes the pewter mug. He knows him well by now, after all.

Kaeya expects you to turn him down and find a seat elsewhere. Usually, such an invitation is enough to send you running for the hills. You lean a hip against the counter instead, as if settling in. “If I am not mistaken, you’re needed at headquarters tomorrow. I strongly advise you to call it a night, Captain.”

“Aww, are you worried about me, Captain?” He manages a grin at the scowl his reply elicits. “Don’t be. It won’t be the first time I stumble into work hungover. Certainly won’t be the last either.”

“How reassuring,” you say dryly.

“I aim to please.”

He perks up when Charles returns with a full tankard. The delectable taste of Death After Noon still sits on his tongue, warm and heady. He very much wants to experience it again. When he lifts the mug to his mouth, however, he misses the rim. He steadies the tankard before it empties itself onto his lap, but some of the wine drips down his chin, ruining his vest.

Thank goodness he isn’t drinking red wine. Every adult in Mondstadt knows red wine stains are notoriously difficult to clean. Still, what a waste of a perfectly good sip.

“Oh, for Barbatos’s sake.” That’s all the warning he gets before his drink is rudely snatched from his hand. He protests but can only watch helplessly as you bring it to your lips.

Then you proceed to down it.

His brows raise higher and higher the longer your throat bobs. He's never seen you drink with such gusto before. Shouldn’t you be gasping for breath by now? But no, you empty the tankard in a single go, then slam it on the counter (Charles makes a face, but wisely says nothing) and meet his gaze without flinching.

Wow, is all that his intoxicated mind can conjure up at the feat.

“There, all done. Now let’s go. I am walking you back.” Your voice is firm, brooking no argument. How captain-like of you. “Wouldn’t want Mondstadt’s illustrious Cavalry Captain to be found passed out in an alleyway tomorrow.”

On any other day, he’d be mildly irked by your stubbornness. But he did just spill his drink down his front like a newborn babe. No wonder you brought up his rank. In your eyes, his conduct must not befit that of a high-ranking knight. He doesn’t care what assumptions people form about him, never has, but tonight has been a bust anyway. Maybe it's best to call it quits.

Sighing theatrically, he rises to his feet. “All right, I know when I have been beaten. But don’t change your plans on my account. I can head to the barracks by myself just fine.”

“I’m sure you can,” you say, “but letting you walk alone this late in your state would grate at my conscience. So would you stop talking for once, and let me take you home?”

You get what you want. Your words render him silent.

Home, you called the barracks. He supposes you consider that place your home. But is it his, truly?

He thinks of Khaenri’ah, nothing but a distant, bloody memory. He thinks of his father, and how in their final moments together, the man had stared through him like he wasn’t there. He thinks of the Dawn Winery, where he had spent several years causing mayhem. He thinks of Master Crepus, never dad, and a brother who doesn’t exist anymore.

No, the barracks aren’t his home. Maybe he’s never had one to begin with.

When he comes to, Kaeya registers you leading him in the direction of the tavern door, your hand on his shoulder blade. This quickly catches the attention of the patrons. They call out their goodbyes, some raising their tankards and others chuckling good-naturedly.

“Look at that! Our Cavalry Cap’n had too much to drink, eh?”

“What, are you tapping out already, Captain Kaeya?”

“Has to be escorted out by a fellow knight, no less!”

You wave over your shoulder. “Just doing my patriotic duty, that's all.”

Kaeya gives his audience an exaggerated wink (as well as he can with his one uncovered eye) followed by a lazy hand salute. His grin remains fixed in place until the door swings shut. The wooden barrier barely muffles the sounds of conversation and merriment coming from within.

Had it been that loud while he was inside? He hadn’t noticed.

He isn’t able to dwell on it for long, because you nudge him in the direction of headquarters. “Come on. We have a bit of a walk ahead of us. Let’s get to it.”

“Oh, very well. But only because you asked so nicely.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

“I know. I was being sarcastic.”

You nudge him harder, and he snickers under his breath as he walks.

This time of night, the cobblestone streets seem devoid of life. With the exception of Patton, who’s practically asleep standing up, the two of you don’t run into anyone. It's a stark change from how the city usually is, bright and bustling with crowds.

It suits him just fine, though. The crisp night air is sobering him up somewhat, the fog that had settled over his mind thinning. All too soon, he recalls everything he was trying to suppress.

Master Crepus. Diluc. His callousness and cruelty in forgetting them both.

In hindsight, he should have taken his mug back from you instead of just gaping like a fool. Sobriety is such a drag.

“You’re quiet,” you comment. You’re staring at him intently, your expression eerily similar to Timaeus’s when he is observing an alchemical reaction. It’s as if he is a specimen that you are keen on studying under a microscope.

He wants to scowl, to snap at you. “My apologies,” he says instead, as innocent as can be. “Were you waiting for me to strike up a conversation? Hold on a moment, let me think of a good topic...”

“That is not what I meant and you know it. It’s just, usually it’s impossible to get you to stop talking. The times I have seen you...indisposed”—buzzed as a bee, you undoubtedly mean—“that doesn’t change. You talk more, if anything.”

Curiously, your voice softens, an odd cadence colouring it. One he has not heard from you before, not directed at him at least. “I guess I’m just wondering if something is weighing on your mind. Is that what prompted you to drink so much tonight?”

By now, the two of you have walked down the stairway to the Knights of Favonius’s bulletin board. Of course, Hertha isn’t there this late to assign requests and bounties. The pieces of parchment pinned to the board flutter in the breeze. He stares at the sketch of a Ruin Guard, willing his sluggish mind to craft a suitable answer.

After a beat, his eye slides over to you. An impish grin curls at the corners of his mouth. “My, I had no idea that you watched my every move so closely. I’m flattered by the attention.”

Predictably, you sputter. “What even—that is not—you know what, if you want to dodge the question so badly, fine. We can just walk the rest of the way in silence.”

“As you wish, Captain.”

Although his words were said to fluster you into changing the subject, as you had correctly deduced, Kaeya means them. You have noticed him far more than he realized. As Captain of the Intelligence Team, it’s your job to be observant and keep tabs on others. He knows that. Still, it’s disconcerting to learn that you’ve had a close eye on him in particular.

He operates from the shadows for a reason; he can’t have you jeopardizing that by shining a light on him. Five months into your new position, and already you have proven yourself to be dangerous.

As you wished for, silence reigns as the two of you turn into an alley and approach two flights of stairs, leading to the center of the city. Kaeya resists pressing a hand against the nearest wall for balance. He had walked down a stairway unaided just moments ago, despite how unsteady he felt. Surely ascending some steps would prove to be easier.

Rather than focus on his feet, he looks up ahead. From his position, he can just barely glimpse the blades of a windmill, ever-turning against the dark backdrop of the night sky. He keeps his gaze there as he climbs, his boots scraping against stone.

He clears the first flight of stairs with little issue. See? Nothing to it.

Halfway up the second, Kaeya stumbles.

His surroundings tilt, blurring as he fumbles for balance. It’s a futile effort. Thanks to how inebriated he is, his limbs are too heavy and uncoordinated. The stone below rushes up to meet him.

Before his face can greet it, however, you catch him.

Your side moulds against his, a hand clasping his hip while the other carefully grasps at his spiked pauldron. His gloved hand covers yours reflexively as his racing heartbeat settles. He feels you stiffen at the touch, but you don't pull away. Neither does he.

For a moment, not a word is spoken between you both. The alley is filled only with the soft sound of breathing.

Then you click your tongue. “So much for heading back by yourself. You can barely keep your feet under you.” Your voice lilts with humour.

He knows this song and dance. It has been ingrained in him after all these months. You snark at him, he snarks back. Rinse and repeat. Although this is the first time he has heard levity in your tone; the first time it has been aimed at him, that is. He almost hadn’t thought you capable of it.

He straightens with a chuckle. “First at the tavern, and now in an alley. I just keep falling for you tonight, don’t I?”

You blink owlishly. It takes a moment for the words to sink in. Then a flustered expression crosses your features, before you compose yourself. “You are unbelievable.”

He grins. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You roll your eyes, even as the corners of your lips twitch. “You would.”

Kaeya expects you to move away, so the two of you can resume walking, but you don’t. “Not that I mind having your hands on me, but...will you be letting go any time soon?”

“That depends.” A challenging glint appears in your eye. “Can you handle walking on your own? Or do you need me to cradle you the rest of the way to headquarters, like some damsel?”

He guffaws, taken off-guard by the retort. A reply escapes his loosened tongue before he can think better of it, “Archons, that sounded just like him.”

“Like who?”

“My brother.”

In the past, despite being underage, he was sometimes able to charm bartenders at Angel’s Share—new hires unaware of how to deal with him as of yet—into serving him drinks. Diluc would find him eventually, a disapproving twist to his mouth, and put a stop to it.

Back then, Kaeya was a lightweight and had to be supported back to headquarters. Diluc would scowl and roll his eyes the entire way, but there was still a softness in his gaze. His hands were strong, but careful; Kaeya knew that his brother would not let him fall. He could even be persuaded to join in when Kaeya began to sing, their off-key voices disturbing the silence of the night.

Come morning, while Kaeya nursed the inevitable headache and Jean nagged him about violating the Knights of Favonius Handbook, Diluc would snort. “Serves you right,” he’d say, then hand him a draught for curing hangovers.

Now Kaeya must weather the pain alone.

You tilt your head to the side, your gaze fixed on his. “I had no idea that you have a brother,” you say softly.

Had, he nearly corrects. But he has told you too much already.

This is why he is so careful when drinking in the company of others. Alcohol is a double-edged sword; as delectable as it is, it also loosens inhibitions. It’s what he relies on when charming information out of allies and adversaries alike, none of them the wiser of what they have given up.

How the tables have turned.

“Well, now you do.” A trace of bitterness enters his tone.

You eye him, quiet, before pulling back. You motion forward with your chin. “Let’s keep moving. We’ll never make it to headquarters at this pace.”

Relieved by the subject change, he listens. He makes a conscious effort to place one foot in front of the other, gaze trained on the remaining steps below. You stay at his side, closer than you were before. He can feel your hand hovering at the small of his back, ready to catch him should he trip once more, but he ignores it.

It won’t happen again. He’ll make sure of it.

The alley opens up to a view of the market district. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have long to enjoy the reprieve. The two of you turn right, away from the railing overlooking the main square, to climb two more flights of stairs. A left, and more stairways await.

By the time the Knights of Favonius Headquarters looms above you, Kaeya’s legs ache from the walk. He is very much looking forward to retiring to his quarters.

The knights stationed outside stiffen at the sight of you and Kaeya, standing at attention. They perform a salute in perfect unison. Do they rehearse that before every shift? Surely they must.

The guard on the left, with the glasses and unfortunate haircut, chirps, “Good evening, Captains! I hope you are doing well.” He appears wide awake despite the late hour.

At least the one on the right looks appropriately haggard. “Welcome back,” he grunts.

While Kaeya brushes past them with a nod of acknowledgement, eager to head inside, you stop. “Good evening, Athos, Porthos. Your shift ends soon, I hope? It can’t be terribly interesting, standing watch outside headquarters so late.”

“It’s no trouble at all, Captain!” Athos, as you had referred to him, says. “Guard duty may not be glamorous, but it is still important.”

“Much as I agree with the lad, I can’t bring myself to be so damn cheerful about it,” Porthos sighs, his words tinged with self-deprecation. “Must be ‘cause of these old bones.”

“That’s not true, Sir Porthos. Your bones aren’t that old!” the younger knight argues, prompting the older to shake his head with a chuckle.

“Athos isn’t wrong,” you add. “You are far more sprightly than most knights I know.”

“If that’s true, then Mondstadt is in trouble.”

Smiling and shaking your head, you finally pass by them, climbing the short steps to return to Kaeya's side. He lifts a brow as he pulls on one of the large oak doors, holding it open for you.

It’s almost comical how quickly your smile disappears. Your eyes narrow as you enter inside. “What’s that look for?”

“Nothing,” he says breezily, following after you. The door falls closed behind you both with a loud, echoing thud. “Just that I didn’t know you were so chummy with the guards.”

It is blindingly bright inside the Knights of Favonius Headquarters, as if it isn’t nearing midnight. The sconces on the walls are lit up, as is the chandelier hanging in the center of the main hall. The two of you make your way towards the—joy of all joys—staircase. The barracks for knights are located on the second floor, and on the floor above that, separate quarters for the captains.

“I am off-duty right now. It’s not unprofessional for me to speak informally with them.”

His eye widens. “Why, I never said it was unprofessional, Captain.”

You grind your teeth so hard he can practically hear the enamel wearing away. “You implied it.” No, he didn’t. Your distaste for him has you imagining mockery where there is none. As if Kaeya has any room to judge someone for acting unprofessional.

“I did? That’s news to me.” Privately, he marvels at how easily he can agitate you. Him, no one else—he has observed you long enough to know your prickliness is reserved for him alone. Maybe that’s why he annoys you further instead of clearing up the many miscommunications that tend to occur. Not that you’ll believe him, even if he’s being completely honest.

You huff. “How the Dandelion Knight manages to put up with you, I’ll never know,” you mutter.

“How rude, Captain! Jean doesn’t put up with me, she considers me indispensable.”

You cut a look at him. “Yes, I’m sure she thought the same when you failed to show up to today’s meeting.”

“Must you bring that up again? I shudder just thinking of the lecture she’ll have ready for me in the morning. Perhaps my mysterious ailment should plague me for a little while longer...”

“Prolonging the inevitable will do you no favours.” You pause briefly, then add, “Ah, I almost forgot to mention. After the meeting, I ran into Inspector Eroch. He was waiting outside and asked after you. He seemed irked when I informed him that you were absent today.”

If Kaeya was not so skilled at masking his reactions, he would’ve perked up at that. He might have even stopped in his tracks or whipped his head around to look at you. But he knows better than to give himself away so obviously. He leisurely climbs the steps, his features revealing only vague interest. “Oh? Somehow I doubt he was upset out of concern for my wellbeing.”

You glance over. “I wouldn’t know. He did not say anything when I asked why he wanted to see you, or if I could pass on a message. He just brushed me off and left.”

“Don’t be hurt by his shameful conduct, Captain. I for one enjoy your company immensely.”

You ignore his thoughtful statement. “I thought that he might have had a prior engagement with you, which you missed due to being terribly ill.”

He shrugs. “If we did, I don’t recall it.”

That earns him another look, longer than the one before. He doesn’t flinch away from it, his expression remaining serene. Privately, he wonders what you know. Are you merely intrigued by what Inspector Eroch might want with him? Or are you more aware than you’re letting on?

After all, Eroch is the one Kaeya has been secretly investigating for the past year.

Looks like the inspector has caught on. About time. No doubt he wants to figure out just how much Kaeya knows—which is not much, unfortunately. He knows that Eroch has more than just Mondstadt’s best interests in mind; a Fatui spy like him would have just the opposite. But he is unsure what the man is up to, or who he even is.

He does, however, have an inkling. Several, even.

Inspector Eroch had been insistent on covering up the details of Master Crepus’s death. For the good of Mondstadt, he claimed, not wanting the citizenry to lose faith in the Knights of Favonius. Grand Master Varka had ultimately sided with him. It resulted in Diluc resigning his position and leaving the city a year ago.

Kaeya had kept an eye on the inspector after that. He knew there was more to the situation than just preserving Mondstadt’s trust in the Knights, and it had everything to do with the dangerous and evil power Master Crepus had harnessed. It was only a matter of figuring out what. And once he has all of the information...

Well, he knows what Diluc would do, once upon a time. Blazing with righteous fury, he’d take his findings to Grand Master Varka, insisting on Eroch’s arrest and expulsion from the Knights of Favonius. He would see it as retribution for how poorly his father’s death had been handled.

But Kaeya suffers from no delusions. Maybe he looked into Eroch because of Master Crepus. Maybe he wanted some kind of revenge for what happened. Maybe he yearned to atone for his past inaction. None of that means he has any heroic intentions.

If it serves his interests better, he won’t expose the inspector immediately. He will hoard his knowledge instead, keeping his cards close to his chest until it’s the right time to play them.

That is how he has always operated. Master Crepus's death and Diluc's departure have not changed that. For a brief, nonsensical moment, he wishes they had. Then common sense returns to him. A foolhardy sense of justice is of no use to him. He’ll leave that to Diluc.

While he extricates himself from his wayward thoughts, you turn away to clear the last few steps. “If it is important, surely he will try to approach you again,” you say.

“I look forward to it with bated breath.”

You scoff, rightfully skeptical, but don’t respond. Clearly, you are content to leave it at that.

He wonders at how easily you let the subject drop. Had you suspected something, you would have pushed to learn more, wouldn’t you? Now is as opportune a time as any; it’s late, he’s tired and drunk, and the both of you are alone. Does that make you oblivious, or an idiot, or crafty?

Having made it to the third floor, the two of you make your way down the hallway. His quarters are before your own, three doors on the left. He stops in front of his door, reaching into one of many hidden coat pockets to produce his key.

He glances at you. You have yet to leave for own your room. “You don’t have to hover at my side, you know,” he says with a touch of amusement. “I may be tipsy, but I am no longer in any danger of being harassed by ruffians or passing out in the streets. Unless you're secretly harbouring nefarious intentions towards me, Captain.”

“You’ll just have to wait and find out,” is your unruffled response.

Chuckling under his breath, he unlocks his door and lets it swing open wide. It’s dark inside, faint moonlight shining through the small window above his desk. Coupled with the sconces out in the hallway, however, there is enough light for him to stumble to his bedside without stubbing a single toe. He doesn’t bother to close the door on you; he has nothing to hide.

Kaeya knows what his quarters must look like to a stranger. They’re a mess, as if someone had searched them in a haste and not bothered to clean up afterward. The walls are bare, save for a map of Mondstadt that he’d hung up ages ago. Tomes of all sizes and loose leaves of parchment litter his oak desk, pushed up against a wall. A quill lies abandoned atop a half-finished note with ink drying on its nib. His closet door is cracked open, a discarded boot dissuading anyone from forcing it shut.

Yes, his quarters are a mess. But he knows exactly where everything is. Should someone actually attempt to search his things, he would know immediately. Not that they would find anything particularly damning. He isn’t foolish enough to leave important documents or sensitive information lying about—nothing he is unwilling to part with, anyway.

“Horrifying, but unsurprising,” he hears you mutter to yourself.

Kaeya doesn’t even consider slipping out of his ruined clothes or engaging you in further conversation. Now that he has made it back to his quarters, all he can think about is the sweet embrace of sleep. He sinks into his unmade bed, draping an arm over his face.

You continue to linger in the doorway. “You should change before you fall asleep.”

“Mhm.”

“You'll regret not doing so in the morning.”

“Uh-huh.” He still doesn’t move.

“Alberich. You stink of booze.”

“You sure know how to compliment a guy, Captain. I’m impressed.”

You sigh, long and loud. He waits to hear the door close behind you, only for you to walk up to his bedside. Your steps are slow, hesitant yet purposeful. He stiffens, immediately on-guard, but fights his instincts in order to remain still. What are you planning?

He feels you grip his boot. Metal jingles as you undo the buckle. Then you pry it off.

He lifts his arm to peer up at you. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” You set his boot on the ground, then move on to the other one. “If you won’t change, you should at least take off your shoes. You’ll dirty your sheets otherwise.”

Oh, you make it so easy for him to twist everything you say into an innuendo. For once he resists the urge. “You forgot something,” he says instead. He wiggles his sock-clad foot at you. Just to see if you will do it.

You grimace, swatting his leg away. “Absolutely not. I don’t want to be anywhere near those.”

So you say. But you’re taking his boots off for him out of your own volition. There is no need for you to do any of this. It’s not your duty to stop him from drinking himself into a stupor, or walk him back to headquarters unharmed, or all but tuck him into bed. Yet here you are.

What is it that you want? There have been plenty of opportunities for you to try and take advantage of his drunken state, but you have sidestepped every one. Frustration brews in his sternum.

“Do you do this for everyone who you hate?” he finds himself asking, tone purposely lighthearted.

You pause in your ministrations to stare at him. “What? I don't hate you.” At his disbelieving look, you insist, “I don’t. You have always been a pain to deal with, sure, but I never once felt that way.”

He smiles, unconvinced. “Not even when I insulted your dear old captain?”

“Insulted my... That was months ago, when we first met.” Despite your bewilderment, you take a moment to contemplate his question. “I was upset with you, yes. But now that I’ve had this position for some time...maybe your assessment wasn’t off. When I was lieutenant, I didn’t always see eye-to-eye with my captain. They were too set in their ways and scorned most criticism. I respected them, and still do, but I shouldn’t be ignorant of their faults.”

Your gaze meets his once more. “In a way, what you said that day led me to realize that. You weren’t badmouthing my captain; you didn’t have a vendetta or want to get a rise out of me. At least, I don’t think you did. You must have legitimate issues with their leadership, as a captain yourself.”

He watches you shrewdly. Your tone was even, your expression clear. He cannot detect any deception from you. Of course, that means little. Still, perhaps you’re telling the truth. Perhaps you don’t hate him after all.

A headache, newly formed, pounds at his temple. If he were more sober, he would be better equipped to handle such a revelation. He’ll have to come to a proper conclusion later.

You fiddle with the buckle on his remaining boot. “And what about you?”

“Hmm? What about me?”

“You have ample reason to look down on me. Most of the knights know that you aren’t just Cavalry Captain and Quartermaster. Your role is more important than that. Surely you would make a better...” you trail off, your jaw working silently.

Kaeya knows how that sentence ends. Surely you would make a better Captain of the Intelligence Team than me. It doesn’t come as a surprise.

Up until now, he thought he knew you well. You made it no secret you loathed him. You have never said so explicitly, but he has a talent for reading people. It’s a classic case of envy. He has seen it many times before. You compare yourself to him and find yourself wanting. It colours the way you interact with him; your words brusque, your gaze narrowed.

Not only did he insult your captain, but you consider him more capable than you. Your hatred makes sense. It’s predictable.

Or so he believed, until tonight.

“You know what, never mind. Forget I asked.” Uh-oh. Seems he took too long to respond. You busy yourself with unbuckling his boot, avoiding his eye.

If he were to be honest, there are many ways he could answer you. He thinks you are a better captain than your superior could ever hope to have been. He thinks you are a leader capable of inspiring undying loyalty in your officers. He thinks you have a deep, unflinching love for Mondstadt and its people. He thinks you constantly push yourself to greater heights, to the point it lights a fire in him as well.

He admits to none of those things, in the end.

“Give yourself some credit, Captain,” he murmurs. You glance over in surprise. He meets your gaze. For perhaps the first time in a while, he hopes his words sound sincere—not because he doesn’t mean them, but because he does. “I know the officers under your supervision think you’re a good leader. They wouldn’t want anyone else to take your place.” Certainly not someone like me.

Instead of reassuring you, however, his answer seems to do the opposite. You look frustrated. “That isn’t what I...” you trail off. You search his features, silent, before your brow furrows. “I can’t tell if you mean what you just said. Sometimes I’m not sure I ever can.”

He takes care not to allow his features to visibly harden. Of course you would doubt him, the one time he tries to be honest with you. What else did he expect? Maybe you don't hate him, maybe you never have, but that means little. You won’t ever fully trust him. To be fair, the feeling is mutual.

His mouth tastes unbearably bitter. It must be the wine.

“At this point, I’m willing to say just about anything if it’ll mean I can get some shut-eye.” He feels no satisfaction upon seeing your shoulders stiffen. He still manages to grin. “Well, Captain? Any other requests?”

“No,” you say. Then you tug off his boot with a brisk motion.

He stifles a yelp. “Hey, now! No need to be so rough.”

“My sincere apologies.” You set the boot down next to his other one, your lips thinned. “I should go. Wouldn’t want you to lose more sleep than you already have. You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow, after all.”

Talk about vindictive. Despite his irritation, he has to fight a smile. Knowing you, you’ll see it and take it the wrong way, as you usually do.

Having finished removing his boots, you turn and walk for the door without another word.

He’s struck with the odd urge to stop you. To reach out, take your hand in his, and tug you back. Not because he wants something from you, or needs to tell you something. He wishes you would stay a little longer, that’s all. Wants the silence to be filled by your voice instead of his thoughts.

Now he knows he’s had too much to drink. He’s contemplating such ridiculous things.

Before his addled mind can catch up and he can say something, apologize perhaps, you shut the door behind you. Your footsteps travel down the hallway, slightly hurried. The door to your quarters creaks open then closed.

He’s too late. It’s for the best.

Kaeya lies back and stares up at the ceiling. His vision swims, as if he’s adrift at sea. Closing his eye only makes it worse.

His mind pores over the events of the day. Investigating Eroch, remembering Master Crepus and Diluc, visiting the tavern, running into you. He feels restless, pulled in several directions at once.

With a harsh exhale, he rises to his feet and locks his door. Then he begins his nightly ritual.

His pauldron is first to go. It hits the floor with a dull noise. Then he peels off his gloves and tosses them on the desk. The burns on his hands have long since healed, but he still deals with numbness now and then. Not many know they even exist; he doesn’t want anyone taking advantage of a potential weakness. His eyepatch follows closely after.

He removes the Cryo Vision from his belt last. He stares at it, its blue glow washing over his scarred palm and turning his skin a sickly brown hue. If it’s been a year since Master Crepus’s death, it has been about a year since he was gifted a Vision as well. The sight of it has been a hard reminder ever since. Of how he’d won a difficult battle. Of how he’d finally revealed the truth. Of how he can never speak it again.

He tucks the Vision under his pillow, then collapses back into bed. An odd sensation fills him, as it does every time he completes this ritual. It’s like he has taken off every scrap of armour he has and foolishly exposed himself to danger, despite being alone in the stillness of his quarters.

Ignoring the uncomfortable feeling, he closes his eyes and waits for sleep to take him under.

It never does.

[tricksters-captain]

Helmut Zemo imagines - Hostage Part 1

AN: I came up with this idea for a series in the shower and I hope you guys are as intrigued by it as I am. Also I’m aware it’s posted later than I said but I’m a perfectionist and couldn’t post it until I was happy with it!! To make up for it, I have some Laszlo Kreizler smut coming up soon for you Alienist fans. 

Summary: You were chosen as one of Karli’s elite. You became a super soldier to help your cause, make the world a better place but taking the serum came with a price. After being cornered one day, you’re taken by the famous Helmut Zemo to give him answers or face the consequences. 

In This Chapter: Introductions. You are sent on a mission for Karli, only for it to turn bad. 

Pairing(s): Zemo x Fem!Reader, Karli Morganthau x Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 2,703

Warnings: Spoilers for TFATWS, violence, strong language 

You stared back at the burning building as the truck pulled away. 

Despite the rumbling of the thick tires on the tarmac beneath you, you could hear the screaming. 

“Hey.” DeeDee placed a hand on your shoulder and tugged you round. “Don’t look.” 

You could see in her eyes that she was just as shocked as you were but was trying to hide it.

The task had been to remove as many supplies as possible from the GRC depot to take back to the camps in Riga. There had been no mention of bombing the place. 

Lennox’s eyes met yours in the rear-view mirror. You were all thinking the same thing. 

Why would Karli go through with something that hadn’t even been discussed?

“Turn here. It’s faster.” DeeDee leant forward pointing towards a more narrow alley as fire engine sirens echoed up ahead. 

Lennox did as suggested and the others followed close behind. 

It wasn’t a long drive from Vilnius to Riga but you all stopped when daylight broke to take some time to eat something. 

You sat down beside Diego, your eyes flickering to Karli every few minutes as she dished out supplies for you all. 

She noticed. 

“(Y/n).” Karli remained standing as she handed out the last can to Dovich. 

You took the hint and rose to your feet. 

You followed her to the side of the abandoned structure as the others tried to tune the radio. 

“What’s the problem?” Karli asked you, a hard expression across her features.

“What’s the problem?” You couldn’t help but scoff at the question. “Karli, you blew up a building with people still tied up inside.” 

“I did what I had to do. It’s the only language these people understand. You saw just how much food, water and medicine they were sitting on. If we had a fraction of that just a few months ago Mama Donya might still be alive.” You could see the tears Karli was trying to suppress as she spoke of Mama Donya.

“You still should’ve consulted us before you went ahead with it. We’re better than an eye for an eye and you know that.” You cautiously took her hand into yours to try and comfort her. “We’re trying to make a difference here.”

“And that is how we do it.” She dropped your hand as she defended her actions. You shook your head but didn’t retaliate. You knew there was no use in arguing with her in that moment. 

“There’s something I need you to do after Mama Donya’s funeral today.” Karli was quick to change the topic. “A mission for you and DeeDee.” 

“What is it?” You asked, folding your arms across your chest. 

“I need you to go to these coordinates immediately after the funeral. One of our allies will be expecting you both. He has information and something I need. It’ll be a parcel, small enough to conceal so you can make your way back to us without any suspicion.” Karli texted over the coordinates and the information on the contact. 

“How can you be sure it’s safe?” You asked as you studied his profile. 

“I wouldn’t send you if it wasn’t.” Karli paused before she wrapped her hand around the back of your neck and brought your forehead to hers. “We have to stick together now more than ever.” 

You closed your eyes and exhaled a shaky breath. 

“One world.” You muttered. 

“One people.”Karli pulled away just as Dovich called over to you both. 

They had managed to get the radio to work. 

You sat down and opened a can of fruit slices to try and quench your hunger. 

“The depot that was bombed was funded and run by the GRC, the Global Repatriation Council. One of the workers killed was the father of two and had only been on the job for one week. After condemning this latest action by the radical group known as the Flag Smashers, the GRC formally began drafting legislation known as The Patch Act, which would seek to restore traditional border regulations and fast-track the return to normalcy. The act of violence has also brought attention and followers to the Flag Smasher cause. No one can deny the world-wide reach of this group is growing, as is the danger.”

You shared a look with Gigi and Dovich as you listened to the broadcast. Your stomach churned at the mention of the father. You swallowed hard as you placed your food down. 

Karli parted from the group again, feeling the pressure of the eyes on her, but you chose not to follow. 

You had known Karli for 3 years. You met in Riga and became close quickly. You both had lost everything and then you had each other. When she took off to Madripoor, you followed. She always knew how to get people to see things her way, she had a spark inside of her that drew in those who wanted to fight for something; she was powerful for 19. She only grew more powerful with the serums. 

You had backed her and supported her from the start but something was twisting. Something was going sour. You had never killed innocents before but in Karli’s eyes; was anyone on the side of the GRC innocent?

“Finish up. We need to get to the border in time to meet our contact.” Karli strode past the group and didn’t stop until she climbed into one of the cars. 

You cleaned up after yourselves, leaving no trace that you were there, before you got back on the road. 

You were back in Riga soon enough, your contact at the border let you through without any issues and you made it to the checkpoint with all the supplies safely. 

Fortunately, you still had time to spare before Donya’s funeral. 

You remained hidden, on the low, whilst Karli went with Nico to pick up the leftover serums. 

You had previously spoken about creating more super soldiers. You had been against it. There were more than enough of you for the moment and the process of turning into one was beyond any pain you’d ever felt. You didn’t think more people needed to go through that. However, the vote passed and more were to be created. 

“You ready?” Karli asked you as she returned. You nodded. 

You headed to the secret location of Mama Donya’s funeral and fell into the crowd as the body came into sight. Mama Donya had been important to Karli and therefore important to you. She had been a kind woman. Kind to you. But Karli had a bond with her that you didn’t. This was Karli’s time to heal, to grieve, to help those who also relied on Donya. 

You watched Karli step up to say a few words. 

“I don’t remember my mother or my father. Same goes for siblings, grandparents, cousins. What I do remember is being alone. Worse than being hungry or cold or scared. I was alone. Until Mama Donya. Like a lot of you here, Mama Donya saved me. She clothed me, fed me, loved me.” You followed Karli’s eye line when she gasped softly. 

It was Sam Wilson. Avenger. 

You felt your blood go cold. Usually where there was one avenger, there were sure to be more. 

“She taught me that we have to do for each other because they won’t. And we know who they are. They imposed struggle and hardship on us, then labeled us as criminals for pushing back. But the struggle is what brings us all together. People who have nothin’ in common. For we are, after all, simply one world and one people. So live accordingly.”

As you stepped forward and placed your bouquet of flowers down beside Donya, Karli clasped hold on your wrist. 

“Go now.” She whispered under her breath. 

“What about you?” You asked. 

“I’ll be fine. Get to the contact.” Karli tried to assure you but you weren’t certain on leaving her. Dovich guided you away to stop you from arguing with Karli about it. He told you that he was going to stay behind to help Karli and that you had a more important job to do right now. 

You had to give in and leave. 

As you made your exit, you grabbed DeeDee and the keys to the motorbike outside. 

“We gotta make a detour. Make sure we aren’t being followed.” You announced as you climbed onto the motorbike. 

“Karli said our guy would wait for us so it’s better to be safe than sorry. We can’t mess this up.” DeeDee agreed with you as she placed herself behind you. 

You took off down the street and did your best to lose any tails. 

You ended up ditching the bike and moving underground once you were sure you were alone. 

You were either really lucky or they had only brought enough backup to deal with Karli. 

“We should be close.” You checked your phone to read the GPS before placing on your mask. 

DeeDee held the flashlight up as you worked your way through the empty tunnel. 

“You’d think Karli could organise a rendezvous point somewhere a little less musty.” DeeDee grimaced as a trio of rats scattered past you both. 

“This is the safest way. We may have gained a lot of supporters above ground but we have a lot of enemies too.” You tried to defend Karli’s choice but even you had to admit that the sewers were a low point for you all. 

“You think she got away okay?” DeeDee asked, the concern obvious in her voice despite her blank expression. 

“I think Karli’s smart and she wouldn’t stick around if she knew she couldn’t win.” You may have been anxious for her but you rarely had doubts with Karli. Even without the serum she always managed to slip through the cracks. 

As you continued to make your way through the tunnels, you spotted a silhouette up ahead. 

You narrowed your eyes as DeeDee shone her light on him. 

Fortautely, it was your contact.

“Greetings.” The man smiled widely at you both. He wore a bright head torch that stopped you from looking him in the eye and a large forest green coat. 

“We’re here to collect the parcel and information for Karli.” DeeDee informed him, shading her eyes from his light as she tried to lift her gaze. 

“Yes. Yes. I know.” The short man pulled out a small object wrapped in brown paper from under his coat. “Karli said you would be coming.” 

As the man spoke, you heard something splash in the water behind you. 

“What was that?” You asked, looking back to see if you could spot anything. 

“It was probably just one of the rats.” DeeDee tried to assure you but the hairs on the back of your neck began to stand up. 

You had a bad feeling about it. 

“I’m going to check it out.” You whispered to her. “Better safe than sorry.” You repeated what she had said earlier. 

“Be careful.” DeeDee handed you her flashlight before letting you go. 

You crept back round the corner from whence you had came. You remained close to the wall to avoid any oncoming intruders head on. Peering down into the water, you saw that it had been in fact just a rat that was now paddling through the sewage. 

“It's okay.” You relaxed, shouting ahead so they could hear you. “It was just a ra–––” You were cut short by a gloved hand covering your mouth. 

You sent your elbow backwards instinctively which threw your attacker into the wall. 

You spun around to see a figure dressed in a lavish coat with a purple mask covering his face. You furrowed your eyebrows at his appearance. You didn’t recognise him as an Avenger. 

He came towards you, sending a fist to the side of your head. You managed to block his attack, kicking him in the chest. 

You thought he’d be no match for you with your enhanced powers but he managed to put up a good fight. 

He wrestled with you against the wall as he gained the advantage. You resorted in head butting him to get him off you. 

You sent your leg up into his side but he wrapped his arm around your calf and yanked you forward. You lost your balance as he grip moved, hooking under your knee. He squeezed your thigh against him as he pulled out a rather large syringe. 

“DEE! RUN!” You managed to howl before the needle sunk into your thigh. 

You tried to fight again as he dropped your leg but your vision became patchy and your balance began to sway. 

Not to your knowledge, he had injected as much tranquilliser into you as one would a tiger. Your enhanced abilities wouldn’t help you with that, you were soon out cold. 

--

The stars shone above you as you and Karli laid back on the bonnet of the car. 

“I genuinely believe that you could be the one to change things, Karl.” You said as you munched down on the chocolate bar she had gifted you. 

“What are you on about?” Karli furrowed her eyebrows through her smile as she turned her head to face you. 

“I mean look what you did for my birthday, just using your powers of persuasion.” You smirked.

“Persuasion isn’t enough to change things.” Karli disagreed. 

“You’re right but right now, people need someone to look up to. Half the world is gone and hope isn’t something that's easy to come by anymore.” You stated. 

“And you think that person could be me?” Karli scoffed at the idea. 

“I think you could do anything you wanted if you put your mind to it.” You broke off a piece of chocolate and handed it to her. 

“I think you’re spending too much time around Mama Donya.” Karli took the chocolate and popped it in her mouth. 

“We’ll see who’s right one day.” You mused with a small smile. Karli rolled her eyes before trying to steal another piece. “Hey! It’s my birthday present!” 

--

When your eyes finally opened, you realised you were no longer in the sewers. 

You were standing but your hands were up above your head, chained to the wall behind you and a large metal strip was around your neck also. You desperately tried to search your surroundings through your mask but the restraints stopped you from moving much. 

The room was dark, no windows, a few dim lights dotted around caused the room to seem almost a brown colour and there was little furniture. 

You would’ve been a fool if you didn’t noticed the gun on a small table off to the side as well as the medical equipment glistening on a tall metal cart. 

Your head throbbed and your mouth held the metallic taste of blood. You tugged at your wrist restraints to test their strength and to your luck they were holding. 

“You’re awake.” You heard a thick accented voice when you stopped rattling your chains. “Good.” 

The possessor of the voice, your kidnapper, stepped into light and you clocked who it was immediately. 

It was Baron Helmut Zemo. 

Zemo could not see your face as he had left the mask on you but he could tell from your eyes that you knew who he was. 

“I bet you are wondering why you are here. Tied up in this basement.” Zemo started. “Let’s start with introductions, shall we?” 

You remained silent.

“My name is Helmut Zemo––”

“––I know who you are.” You retorted. 

“Then you know what I am capable of.” Zemo glared at you for the interruption. His hands finding his pockets as his eyes settled on your own. 

“I know you’re going to kill me.” You knew of what happened with the Avengers. You knew of Siberia and the destroyed soldiers. You knew of his hate. 

“I’m not going to kill you.” Zemo wagged his finger at you. “Not yet at least. No. We have a few things I’d like to discuss first.”

“Like what?” You scowled at the man. 

“Like the whereabouts of Karli Morgenthau.” 

(PART 2 HERE)

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