#today (well. yesterday) i already forgot my wallet | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mysticpetals · 3 years

Text

Supermarket runs

Pairing: Jake × mc (Syianne)

Genre: fluff, humor

Words: 2.5k

Summary: Three times Jake ran into Syianne and one time he actually made plans.

Anonymous asked: Hello. If you do still requests, can you do 27 and 40, with Jake and MC from Duskwood from fluff? Sorry I forgot to add that.

Prompts: 27. "Are you blushing?" 40. "Why are you so afraid of loving?"

Notes: here it is! A cute meet up fic with Jake's point of view. I hope you like this one because it's going to be the last thing I'll be posting for a while 😬

Jake had reached his new hideout just a few hours ago.

After evading yet another capture from the government and planting false trails in his wake, he had escaped to a small town, renting an apartment for the time being.

Opening the door to his new house for a few days, he put his cat down, opened his cage and let him explore. Glitch immediately disappeared and Jake put his bags down, sighing tiredly.

He needed to make a quick run to the store nearby, getting some food and other essential items since it was clear that they didn't stock it in the room.

Before he could change his mind, Jake picked up his wallet, locking the door and walked to the store he came across on his way over to the apartment.

It was a medium sized store, probably the one of the few in this small town. Jake browsed the shelves picking up the things he needed along the way. He avoided eye contact with everyone, putting his hood up.

When he was done, he quietly put the few cup noodles and microwaveable dinners on the counter and waited for the cashier to scan his items. Just as he went to pick up the first item, the cashier's phone rang and he glanced at the screen, eyes widening in surprise before his face settled into panic.

"Oh shit, oh shit, I completely forgot," he mumbled to himself frantically and giving Jake an apologetic glance, ran towards the back room.

Well then, it wasn't like he was in any hurry either. He didn't want to go back so soon anyway. He rocked back on his heels, adjusting his mask so that it still covered the lower half of his face and looked around in boredom.

From the backroom, he could hear two voices arguing, one male and other female and just when he thought that maybe it was going to take a while, the cashier ran out of the room, hefting a jacket over his shoulders and looked back.

"I owe you one, Syianne! Thank you so much!"

Jake tilted his head on hearing the familiar name, memories of conversations with his Syianne creeping up.

"You really do, Percy! I better have a three day weekend after this!" The girl shouted back and Jake smiled behind his mask. She even sounded like her.

The cashier yelled back something but he was already out the door to hear properly. The girl came out from the back, wearing her uniform jacket and grumbling about having to do two shifts, but Jake had frozen.

"Sorry about that. My coworker forgot about the date with his girlfriend and had to bolt. Between you and me, she's pretty scary so I'd be running too," she said, already ringing up his few items but Jake couldn't reply. He kept staring at her familiar face, which he had accidentally accessed when going through her chats before.

This was his Syianne.

She glanced at him, probably wondering why he didn't say anything before looking back on the screen. He broke out of his stupor when she told him the total and held up a bag with his items.

His fingers brushed against her and it felt like a lifetime, blood rushing to his cheeks and heart pacing.

"Thank you," he said and got a smile in return.

"You're welcome! Sorry about the delay earlier."

He shook his head rapidly, telling her that it was no trouble and he completely understood. That made her smile widen, her eyes crinkling with happiness.

"Come again soon!"

Oh, he'd be coming back very soon, indeed.

The first thing he did after reaching home was to power on his laptop and search for Syianne's location. Glitch hissed angrily at him for disturbing his slumber atop the chair he was now sitting in but Jake's eyes were fixed on the screen.

The results baffled him, as it showed her living in a completely different country from when he had searched her before, when he had just gotten her number. And then, realisation dawned on him that she might be using a VPN.

He banged his head on the table in frustration but also a little impressed that Syianne had thought of doing something like this to protect her identity.

He was supposed to stay away from all of them, to prevent pulling people into his messes but now one of the most important people in his life literally worked a walk away from his hiding place. He couldn't change places so frequently as it hadn't even been a day and he had to give some time to the police to cool off, before he got on the move again.

He sighed, too wound up to make anything but cup noodles, he got up and went into the kitchen. Glitch trailed behind him, sniping at his heels for his own food and Jake emptied the last can of cat food into Glitch's bowl.

With a jolt, he realised that he would have to go to the supermarket tomorrow again and it brought him equal parts of excitement as well as anxiety at the thought of seeing Syianne again.

———

The next evening, he put the cans of cat food on the counter and was disappointed to find that the guy from yesterday – Percy, if he recalled right – was going to scan his items.

Jake shifted the mask on his face and looked around to see if Syianne was somewhere but to no avail. If Percy noticed him looking around, he didn't say anything. When he grabbed the bag from him, the employee room opened and Syianne came out wearing casual clothes, a bag slung over her shoulder.

"See you tomorrow, Percy!"

She came out from behind the counter and her eyes widened in surprise as they fell on him.

"Oh hi! You're the one from yesterday."

Jake cleared his throat and let out a hesitant, "Y-yeah."

Percy snickered, throwing a knowing look at Jake before turning to Syianne.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow, idiot. Bring some coffee with you." He handed Jake his bag as he scrambled to bring out his wallet to pay and gave him a wide smile.

"Syianne here works the morning shifts." He winked and Jake was mortified to hear the amusement in his voice, knowing that he had been caught.

"I'm not bringing you anything until I get my three-day weekend. Anyway, nice to see you again…." She trailed off when she turned to Jake and his mind went into overdrive as he thought about whether he should tell her his real name or not.

"Phil." He blurted out, "My name's Phil."

She tilted her head, no doubt thinking about that bartender from Duskwood who was currently locked up in jail.

"Funny, I know a guy named Phil. Not from around here though." She glanced at the door giving him a final smile.

"Because all the customers come in the evening." Percy complained and Syianne only rolled her eyes at his antics.

"Well, come by in the morning if you want to chat. It's pretty chill that time."

"Deal with it. Anyway, see you tomorrow." She waved one last time and walked out, Jake's eyes following her figure until she disappeared around the corner.

"She's sweet and a little too trustful. I better not hear any complaints about you from her Phil or I won't hesitate to throw a punch or two." Percy threatened and Jake flushed before muttering a hasty excuse and practically running out of the store.

She actually talked to him today and hearing her voice, her words just made it harder for him to stay away. But it was okay if he didn't tell her who he was, right? She won't be in any danger then, right?

These thoughts chased him as he walked back to his temporary home, almost tripping over Glitch when he entered and found a disgruntled cat, waiting for his food.

———

The next morning, Jake worked in his room, occasionally shooing away Glitch who was determined to get his daily dose of affection.

"Just a minute, Glitch." He muttered, typing rapidly, his eyes scanning the screen with an eerie quickness.

A loud, disgruntled meow from his cat breaks the silence again and Jake heaved a frustrated sigh, pushing his laptop away and glaring at the culprit.

"Fine, you little devil! I'll give you breakfast first."

He walked out of the room, Glitch trailing behind him, purring in appreciation and hopped on to a chair while Jake took out the instant pancake mixture that he had recently bought. And that reminded him of the fact that Syianne was here, so close and whether he should tell her or not.

Making the pancakes in a daze, he put a plate in front of Glitch who immediately started gobbling it up. Jake huffed out a laugh and made his own plate, sitting across from his cat. The syrup was towards Glitch and when he leaned forward to take it, he was met by Glitch's paw swatting at his hand.

"What the hell? You ate already! Let me eat too!"

Glitch's paw rested on the syrup bottle and edged it towards the end of the table.

Jake froze.

"Glitch, no. Give me the syrup."

The bottle shifted a bit more.

"No, Glitch. Stop that."

The cat looked at him and stopped and Jake gave a sigh of relief, only to throw back his head in exasperation at the next moment as the bottle was finally pushed off the table.

"You little devil! I'm going to—"

The cat sprang up and ran into the other room, leaving Jake in the kitchen alone.

"Why is it always me?"

———

After cleaning up the kitchen and eating pancakes without any syrup, Jake found himself in the supermarket once again, embarrassed about being there everyday for the last three or so days.

When he put his items on the counter, including a syrup in a plastic bottle this time, he found himself facing Syianne who gave her an amused look.

"Having a good day, Phil?"

It took a moment for Jake to understand that she was talking to him and he flushed when he met her gaze.

"Not really. My cat decided to be an asshole today."

Syianne laughed and if Jake could have heard it everyday, he would. When she scanned his bandaids, she raised an eyebrow, and Jake gave her a sheepish smile, showing her his poorly wrapped hand.

"Oh no, that looks bad," she said but Jake only shook his head.

"It's better than it looks, I promise. I'm just bad at wrapping things up."

She didn't smile but only looked behind him. Seeing no more customers, she gestured for him to come to her side of the counter. Confused, he did as she asked and understanding dawned on him when he saw her opening the packet of gauze he had just bought.

"Oh, no, no. It's okay. I can do it at home." He rushed but she didn't listen, silently asking for him to hold his hand forward. When he realised that Syianne wasn't going to take no for an answer, he sighed and put his hand forward, face heating up and he regretted forgetting to wear a face mask that day.

"Are you blushing?" She asked teasingly and his flush only worsened.

"I-I'm not used to other people caring for me."

She hummed.

"That must be lonely."

She carefully unwrapped his hand, winching at the sight of blood and cleaned it with antiseptic wipes, before wrapping a bandage around the cut. Her hands were gentle but firm, as if she knew what she was doing and had done it a hundred times before. Jake was suddenly hit with a weird nostalgia, a feeling of wanting to know who she was, how many siblings she had, what her goals were.

He didn't realise when she had stopped, staring at him, as he was looking at her and only after several minutes had passed, did Syianne dropped her hands, letting him know that she was done.

The thought struck him like lightning and he quickly grabbed his bags, muttering another thank you and getting a simple smile in return. Before he knew, he was out on the streets and on the way to his house, his thoughts a raging turmoil.

"Thank you very much." He spoke softly, quietly, overwhelmed by such a gesture from her. He was essentially a stranger and she had still helped him, not knowing who he was.

She didn't know who he was.

What was he doing? Going to see her like that, finding excuses to go to the supermarket in hopes of seeing her? What did he want to accomplish?

He released a shaky sigh, running his hands through his hair, when he reached the place. Glitch, knowing that it wasn't the time for his shenanigans, only gave a welcoming meow from his place on the couch.

Maybe it was time he started searching again.

Jake opened his laptop but the ping from his phone made him look for it, heart quickening when he saw her name on it.

Syianne [5:00 pm]

Hey Jake!

How are you doing? I hope you're safe

I patched up a guy today who came in at work. He had a cat too!

Anyway, I don't know why I'm still writing but I hope you're safe and nobody got to you

Why are you so afraid of loving?

Sorry, insensitive question. Ignore that

Waiting for when you come back

...I'm still looking forward to that date

Jake's lips quirked at her messages, warmed by her concern. She had messaged him everyday ever since he went into hiding again. He hadn't replied then, being busy because of his relocation, but now….

In a bold move, very uncharacteristic for him, he messaged her back.

Jake [5:03 pm]

What if I told you that the guy you patched up was me?

Syianne [5:04 pm]

What?

His name was Phil

Jake waited as she typed and erased, all of it going on for two minutes before she stopped. Jake had a sudden, terrible feeling that perhaps he had made a mistake but soon enough, she replied.

Syianne [5:06 pm]

You're cute in real life as well <3

Jake laughed, amused by her flirty response and decided that perhaps he'd stay there for a few more days.

Syianne [5:06 pm]

What about that date at the Chinese restaurant you promised me?

Jake [5:07 pm]

Does tomorrow work for you? ;)

#duskwood #duskwood jake #everbyte duskwood #duskwood game #everbyte #jake × mc #duskwood jake × mc #jake × player #duskwood fanfic #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood mc #duskwood phil

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whore4teamcap · 3 years

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Partners Against Crime

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: After your boyfriend takes a promotion, you’re assigned a new partner. How will you both deal with the separation and potential of someone getting in the way?

Warnings: This fanfiction does revolve around law enforcement but I will not include any controversies.

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: Thank you @stucky-my-ship for requesting this! I’m so excited to turn this into a series. Hope you enjoy <3 Thank you so much to those who read! Feedback and interactions are heavily appreciated. Also! Please reach out if you would like to be tagged in future parts and my other projects.

Part 1

You flickered your eyes open as a blaring noise came from beside you. No matter how many years of experience you had with this job, you swore you would never get used to this schedule. Even when you were starting out as a beat cop everything seemed easier. It was probably just the adrenaline from coming straight out of the academy but then your life changed. You were promoted from beat and finally landed your goal job as a detective. You dreamed of being a detective ever since you were little. You smiled softly at the memory of you sneaking downstairs to watch tv behind your parents backs. Often finding yourself glued to crime shows; they fueled your desires to take down criminals.

You throw your arm toward the side table and shut off the alarm. Then you proceed to roll over and frown at the empty bed space beside you. Your boyfriend, James Barnes, well you called him Bucky, just got promoted to Sergeant. He was officially in charge of the precinct you both worked at. Which was both a blessing and a curse. You were so proud of Bucky, he finally got the promotion he has been working his ass off for and the new job came with a lot of good things for him.

But, you couldn't hide the fact that it was gonna severely weigh on you. You and Buck had been partners since you first got promoted to detective. You both really clicked from that day forward. It was gonna take a lot to get used to not having him by your side. In this line of work you need a person you can trust one thousand percent. At the end of the day this person is in charge of your life and you're in charge of theirs. Bucky was the definition of what a partner meant to you. Which is why it was no shock that three years later you both shared an apartment and ended up falling in love. However you just knew the promotion would put a damper on that as well. You had to keep your affair hidden from the precinct and trusted very few people. When you moved in with Bucky, you weren't even allowed to update your address so every now and then you'd make your way over to your old place to pick up mail. Luckily, you hit it off with your old landlord and he helps with anything and everything you need. Although you were certain he did it to eventually get a legal favor. But you didn't mind. It bought you time with the man you love.

Being that the precinct didn't know about you and Bucky, you couldn't stop yourself from worrying about the future. He was no longer your equal. He was your boss and you were terrified of the thought of someone finding out about your relationship. It could get both of you fired or moved to different precincts. Which was the better of the two, but it would be hard to work without each other. You strongly believed what made you best at your job was having him beside you. Or at least in the same work place. This mindset also made you question if your relationship would ever progress more than it was. Of course you wanted to eventually marry Bucky but how would that work with your jobs? There were so many obstacles the two of you faced and it made you even more stressed for your first day without him.

While groaning, you rub your face. Then you gain the strength to pull yourself from the half empty bed. You make your way to the bathroom and turn on the water. Giving it time to heat up while you go grab a towel and pick out clothes for your day. After showering and getting ready, you stepped out of your shared room. The apartment is small and cozy. New York was an expensive city to live in but you both made it work. When you were looking for apartments, you didn't care where you ended up just as long as we were with each other. Being that the apartment was tiny, you could see straight into the kitchen from the hallway. Your eyes fell straight on a note besides the partially full coffee pot. You smile to yourself and walk over. You lift it off the counter and begin to read,

Good morning Doll

I hope you slept well. I left early this morning to get a head start on everything at the station. I made us coffee. I hope it's still good by the time you wake up.

Yours,

Bucky

P.S. Please grab our usual at the deli before you come in

You let out a brief chuckle at the final sentence written on the piece of paper. You grab a travel mug from the cabinet and place it in front of you. Then you proceed to grab the pot and pour it into the cup. After adding creamer and sugar, you bring the cup to your lips and take a small sip. The coffee was good but on the colder side. Therefore you pop it in the microwave while you quickly grab your belongings. When you hear the beep, you remove it and put the lid on. Carrying everything with you out of the door.

While driving to work, you swing by the deli up the road from your apartment building. You park on the busy New York street and quickly get out of your car and run inside. The bell above the door dings and Frank and Linda look up from behind the counter. You shoot them a large smile and they quickly return. The deli was owned by this sweet older couple since the early 70s. They were so kind to you and really cared for their regulars. So much so, they memorized Bucky and your order. Sometimes even having it ready before you arrive in the mornings.

"Good morning (y/n)! Where's Bucky?" Frank asks, his welcoming smile fading into a light frown. He walks toward the edge of the counter to meet you.

"Good morning! He went in early. First day of the new promotion. I'm still gonna bring him breakfast though," you explained while Linda grabbed a brown paper bag from the far counter and brought it toward you.

"Oh! Please tell him we wish him well, would you? We remember like it was yesterday when you both started coming in here. You've come a very long way and were so proud of you both," Linda said kindly. Her words turn your cheeks a dark shade of pink.

You could remember that day like it was yesterday as well. Bucky brought you here on your first day of the job and you've been coming to Frank's since.

"Why don't we stop and get food before we start our case? I know this amazing deli a few blocks away from the station," Detective Barnes suggests and you nod.

His gaze stays on you while you both get into his car. You slide into the passenger seat then proceed to put your seat belt on. You watch him do the same then start the car.

"So how long have you been a detective?" you ask softly, fiddling with your notebook and pen in your lap.

"Bout' 5 years or so. Rogers, the guy you met back at the precinct, he was my partner. We go way back," He replies while he pulls out of his parking spot. Beginning to make his way up the block.

You watched the busy street and took everything in with new eyes. You lived in New York your whole life but the city was still new to you. Your gaze shifts to your partner and you blushed lightly. His dark hair, calming smile and kind personality seemed to draw you in. But you pushed those thoughts away. This was professional and you knew that. However you found yourself incredibly lucky to be partnered with someone who already gave you such a welcoming homely feeling.

"Whatcha thinking about, (y/l/n)?" he asks. Shifting his attention from the road to you. His eyes connected with yours and suddenly all of your first day jitters went away.

His eye snapped back to the road and he began puling to a stop. Veering off to the right side of the road into an empty parking spot. Once his eyes snapped away, you took a deep breath and looked away as well.

"Just trying to get a good read on my partner. Making sure he's not dirty or part of something that'll get me killed," you say jokingly. You let out a laugh at your own stupid explanation and Barnes' attention quickly turned back to you. The corners of his mouth instantly went up and he shot you a toothy grin.

"Don't worry. If you're with me long enough. I'd let you in on my dirty cop side. No need to fear for your life," He joked back. Holding up his hands as if he were surrendering.

"All about the money in the end, isn't it Barnes?" You asked, continuing this forming inside joke.

"Oh definitely."

You both get out of the vehicle and you notice a big sign above the small deli. The name reading FRANK'S. You both walk inside and you smile as you're greeted by a seemingly older couple. You have been to countless deli's in New York State but this one gave you a great feeling. You didn't have family in the city. So it amazed you how quickly strangers could become such a crucial piece in your life.

She hands the order to you and you begin to pull out your wallet. Frank instantly puts his hand up and smiles, "Please it's on the house today. Also don't forget your coffee! Feel free to grab one for Bucky too."

"Thank you so much," was all you managed to reply with. Their utter kindness always brought so much love to your heart.

You notice you forgot the mugs so you walk out of the shop toward your car. You unlock it and pull on the passenger side door. You put the food in your car. Then lean over and grab your nearly empty travel mug from home and the spare from your car. You bring them inside so you can quickly fill them up before making a b line to work.

When you arrive, you walked into the precinct with your hands full. Doing your best to carefully get to your desk. You notice Bucky making himself at home in his new office and you can't help but feel an overwhelming amount of happiness for your boyfriend. He looks so excited and you were so incredibly proud of him. You set your coffee down then pull out your breakfast sandwich placing it on your desk. You grab the brown bag and Bucky's coffee wasting no time before you walk into his office. The man instantly looks up from his papers with a smile.

"Good morning beautiful. Is that for me?" He asks softly, keeping his voice low enough so no one hears.

"Good morning Sergeant Barnes," you say with a small smirk growing on your lips. You move closer to the desk and set everything down. "Linda and Frank gave us our food for free today. They wanted to congratulate you on the promotion. They're very proud of you."

"That's very kind of them. I needed this. Thanks for picking up the food. Rogers told me to come in early and I'm kinda glad I did because he was able to give me the full run down. Hopefully everything goes smoothly from here on out. Although it was weird coming in alone. I hope that won't become a regular thing. Despite the headache, I love our chaotic mornings," Bucky explains followed by a small chuckle. Your mind instantly recalls how usually your mornings consisted of you both fighting for space to get ready. Except you also both secretly adored the morning due to the fact Bucky loves to wake you up with light kisses.

"I agree. I really hope it's not regular. I already lost my partner, the last thing I want to lose is alone time with my boyfriend," you sigh then force a slight laugh. You didn't mean for it to come off in an upsetting way, but you realized it did when the room fell silent.

"Is my new partner coming in today?" You ask curiously, unable to find anything but awkwardness after your statement. You pay close attention to his face and notice a sour look appear. Maybe he wasn't taking it as well as you thought.

"Yeah. He should be in soon," Bucky replies and you nod. You walk out of his office and make your way to your own desk.

You unwrap your sandwich and use one hand to eat and the other to flip through your files. Taking in all of the new information for the case you are starting. You quickly finish your food then you take a large sip of your coffee. You haven't been given any information on your new partner so you wanted to make sure you knew as much as you could about your mutual assignment. Just in case you were stuck with someone inexperienced.

After about a half hour of being lost in thought while analyzing your papers, Bucky's strong voice fills the room. You look up and catch his gaze. He motions for you to come toward him; you get up from your chair and follow behind him into his office. Inside you see a man sitting in one of the two chairs across from Bucky's. He had on black dress pants, a light blue button up shirt and a black blazer. The outfit complimented his body quite well. Your focus moves up to his face, noticing his piercing blue eyes and his slightly long blonde hair. You hear a fake cough come from Bucky and instantly look at him.

"Detective (y/l/n), this is your new partner. You guys will be working the Reagan case together."

The man stands up from his chair and eyes you up and down. He finally extends his hand to you and you shake it.

"Hi, I'm Detective John Walker."

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pink-imagines · 4 years

Text

snow day

request: Hi hi! Can I get a headcannon of needy Todoroki were Todoroki is in the ~mood~ 😏but his s/o is out shopping. But when they get back he’s all on them and pretty much attacking them w kisses and cuddles.

a/n: let’s just say for this fic’s sake covid never existed!! (stay safe ppl, try to stay at home as much as possible!) also hi! i’m back, i literally have no excuse now but i’ll be posting a bit more soon hopefully. (you can probably tell that i started writing this back in january)

warnings: mentions of something smutty that might go down but no smut and no other warnings!

masterlist

requesting rules

The snow couldn’t seem to stop falling. It had already been snowing for the past few days, but the weather didn’t change. It stayed the same and the snow piled on and on. You quite liked this kind of weather, somehow seeing people wrapped up in their scarfes with beanies dragged far over their ears made you feel warm - despite the cold weather. Today was your day off work, so you had a wonderful lazy morning with a bath and eating breakfast while watching TV. The only thing you could think of that would make this better was if Shoto would be here. He was, unlike you, out doing work. You remember teasing him lightly about it yesterday, that you got to spend the day at home while he had to be working out in the snow. In reality you worried that he’d become sick or catch a cold, even though you knew he stayed safe. Either way, you decided to treat yourself today with some shopping. It had been so long since you could actually go out to shop, so despite the cold you wanted to go outside.

You took the train to the mall and walked through the stores. The only thing you were planning on buying was a sweater, considering that you had been frequently stealing more and more of Shoto’s hoodies so you should probably get some of your own. When you saw the little jewlery shop you stopped dead in your tracks. Knowing that your wallet would start screaming if you walked in there you decided to keep it to window shopping. Earrnings, necklaces, bracelets... but most importantly rings. The memory of your mom straight up asking Shoto when he was planning on proposing came to mind. A smile grazed your lips, he had been so flustered that he choked on whatever he was eating. You had been trying to tell your mom off when he put a hand on your thigh and lightly brushed his thumb across your skin there. “No, it’s fine.. we’ll see in the future.”, he had said and had given your mom a soft smile. If it weren’t for the fact that people were around you would’ve started giggling, but you held yourself back and kept glancing over the rings. One in particular caught your eye, a simple silver one with a smaller diamond. You knew you couldn’t wear a lot of jewlery for your line of work so it seemed so perfect. For the sake of the memory that your brain decided to pull out from the dust, you took a picture of it and sent it to Shoto. -So... when’s it happening? :P You snickered to yourself and started walking again but your phone buzzed quicker than you expected. -You’re starting to sound like your mom A laugh escaped your lips at the message. However, it did surprise you that he could be texting you back so quickly since he was at work. -I was just joking.. aren’t you supposed to be working right now? The text bubble that indicated that he was typing appeared immediately. -Not on patrol today and I just finished my paperwork. I’m about to go into a meeting though -Is that a warning or a challenge? -Y/N. Do. Not. Yet another laughed made it’s way up your throat and you put your phone away again. He usually sounded cold over text, but you could always see right through it. Maybe that’s what four years spent together does to you.

The hours passed by as you walked around in the mall. It was actually quite pleasant, as not many people were there considering the fact that it was a weekday. As you were trying on clothing in yet another store you found a sweater that you really liked. It was an oversized black sweater that went down you your mid thigh and the collar was a bit wider, almost creating an off the shoulder look. You smiled at yourself in the mirror. Under the sweater you had the black bralette you had tried on moments before. Both of the items fit you perfectly and together it created a very cute look. Without thinking you sent a picture to Shoto, asking him if you should buy it. Thinking he probably had his phone off during the meeting, you put your phone down and changed back to your clothes. When you had just finished up putting your pants back on you looked at you phone again to see Shoto’s messages... you forgot his messages are connected to his laptop as well. -Y/N I told you I was in a meeting! -I mean you look very pretty, I like the sweater.. but if you’re going to send me pictures while I’m at work please put pants on. This was not a funny situation, is what you tried to tell yourself... but that didn’t stop you from smiling at the thought of his ears going red in the meeting room. -Sorry, I forgot! I’ll make it up to you by making you soba, okay? It took a while for him to answer so you went out of the dressing room and put away the things you weren’t going to buy. -... fine. I’ll be home after this meeting, so maybe around 5. -See you then ;) Were you being cheeky? Yes, but it wasn’t anything that he hadn’t dealt with before.

After making your purchase you looked at your phone and saw that the clock was nearing 4:45 pm, this meaning that it was time for you to go back home. You went over to the trainstation only to see that the train you were taking home was delayed by 20 minutes due to the snow. With a sigh you sat down on the nearest bench and took out your phone. Because of the 20 minutes it would take to arrive at your home station and the 5 minute walk home, you’d be home in about 50 minutes. Knowing Shoto, he’d probably already be home by now as he most likely managed to cut the meeting short - what was the meaning of staying longer when you had already gotten to the point? Even so, you decided to not call him just yet in case he actually still was in the meeting.

Time passed and as soon as the clock struck 5:00 pm you got a call. “Hey, are you okay? I’ve been waiting for a few and you’re still not home...”, Shoto’s voice was slightly distorted over the line due to your bad connection but you were still relieved to hear his voice. “The train got delayed, can you believe it?”, you sighed heavily. “Yes I can actually, it’s been snowing all day.”, he said calmly, “Do you need me to pick you up? I can be there in 10 minutes.” “No it’s fine, the train should be here in 5 and then I’ll be at the station in just 20 minutes.”, you stood up and looked by the track for the train. “Are you sure? The train’s probably gonna be packed.” “It’s fine, I have headphones with me so I won’t even notice.”, you smiled at his tries to come get you, “Besides I can practically see the train by now.” “Okay... then I’ll meet you at the station.”, he answered, as if it was nothing. “No, baby, you don’t have to do that. You’ve been at work all day just rest please?”, you reasoned. “I’ll see you in 20 minutes, sweetheart.”, he hung up on you. You were taken aback by the usage of the nickname, he barely ever called you by petnames. Before you could think to much of it the train arrived and you put in your earbuds and got on quickly to find a good seat.

The train wasn’t as packed as Shoto had thought. Though there was a crying child in your cart. The mother who frantically tried to calm her baby down gave you an apologetic smile. You made sure to look friendly back at her to make sure she understood that you didn’t mind. The poor woman was trying to keep her child from screaming while also balancing groceries and a stroller at the same time. “Do you need any help?”, you asked and took out your earbuds. “Please.”, the woman gave you a relieved look. You took her grocery bags and balanced them against some empty seats. Then you took the stroller from her hands so that she could properly care for her baby. “He’s just a bit hungry...”, she said and took out a bottle to give to the young boy. “... I’ve never understood how parents always know what their children want like that.”, you said mostly to yourself but the woman answered anyways. “I guess it’s an instinct.”, she said with a warm smile, “Thank you for your help. My husband’s working late so he couldn’t take care of the groceries tonight.” “Ah... I understand.”, you nodded. “Are you married?”, she asked and when she saw your shocked face she quickly apologized, “Sorry I didn’t mean to pry, I was just trying to make small talk.” “It’s alright.”, you stifled a laugh, “I’m actually not married... not yet at least, my mom’s been pressuring my boyfriend for a while now so who knows.”, you joked. “Oh, you have a boyfriend. Have you two been together for long?”, her demeanor had changed back to the kind and warm one from before. “A few years, actually.”, you nodded, “He’s a very sweet guy and-... that’s him actually.” Your phone started buzzing and Shoto’s caller-ID flashed up on the screen. His picture that you had chosen was of him holding a puppy husky that you had been thinking of adopting. Sadly, you ended up not doing that since you were both to busy to take care of a dog - let alone a puppy. You excused yourself to the woman next to you and answered. “Hi, babe, is everything okay?”, you asked. “Yeah, I just wanted to say that I’m by the station. Was the train packed?”, he spoke softly, which made it clear for you that he was in fact outside. “Not at all actually, it’s quite roomy. I told you that you didn’t have to wait for me though...”, you sighed. “I wanted to. It’s fine.”, he said and then added in a whisper, “Then I get to see you sooner.” Your face flushed up in all shades of pink as he said that. He was never usually this affectionate, but you couldn’t deny that you absolutely loved it. “You’re cute, Shoto.”, you chuckled. “Don’t laugh at me.”, you heard him huff slightly. “Sorry, sorry.”, you smiled, “I’ll be by the station in a few minutes if I’m lucky, okay? Thank you for waiting for me.” “No problem... see you soon.”, he said and hung up again. When you turned back to the woman sitting beside her you could tell she was holding back her excitement. “That was the sweetest conversation I’ve ever heard. That sounded like it was straight out of a story!”, she realized what she said and quickly apologized again, “Sorry! I didn’t mean to eavesdrop!” “It’s no problem, we all do it sometimes.”, you tried to control the blush that was creeping across your face but it was near impossible. “I bet he’ll propose to you soon.”, she said and looked back at her baby, “I hope he does.” “Thank you.”, you smiled and looked down at the baby, who was staring back up at you. You waved at the child and he let out a gurgling laugh that had your heart melting. Today was certainly a special day.

You and the woman just happened to get off by the same stop so you helped her get her grocery bags out of the cart. When you saw Shoto standing by himself you waved and called his name. He turned to you and smiled softly, almost longlingly. “He’s handsome too... wow, you’re lucky.”, she smiled to you, “Thank you for the help, miss.” ��No problem!”, you smiled back and watch her walk away before turning your attention to the man walking towards you. “I haven’t seen you all day.”, he embraced you with a sigh. Hugs were normal for the two of you, but absolutely not in public. Your body stiffened in shock before settling in his arms and hugging him back. Eventually he let go of you and took a step back. “Who was that woman? Do I know her?”, he asked. “No, I just met her on the train. Let’s get home, it’s freezing out here!”, you said and took his arm in yours.

The two of you walked in silence, as you usually did, but there was one thing that was running around in your mind. “Do you ever think of having children?”, you asked out of the blue, your breath forming white clouds in the cold air. Shoto stopped in his tracks and looked at you. It wasn’t until then you had realized what you had said, maybe not directly but the question was floating around your heads. “Children, huh?”, Shoto took a deep breath. You peered up at him through your eyelashes, afraid that he’d look disgusted or even scared. He didn’t. His mind was somewhere else, you could tell by the far away look in his eyes. Shoto’s face was dusted pink but, just like yours, you couldn’t tell if it was because he was flustered or cold. “I’ve never thought about it, actually.”, he looked at you which made you look away, “Not against the thought of it though. Let’s talk it through some other time.” He said it so casually. As if this was obvious and not a huge step in a relationship. Then he just kept walking. If it wasn’t for your arm that was still wrapped around his, you would’ve forgotten to walk along with him. “Don’t be embarrased about it, please.”, he said suddenly, “It’s good to bring up these things.” “I just thought about it... you know... the woman on the train and everything...”, you muttered. “Sweetheart.”, there was the nickname again, “I told you not to be embarrased about it.” After a few years you’d think he wouldn’t be able to make you weak in the knees anymore. That was wrong. You hummed in response to what he said and leaned your head against his shoulder. There was an urge in you to feel a sudden intimacy between the two of you and that was the first thing that came to mind. “Are you cold?”, he asked. “Not extremely...”, you looked up at the clear sky, “... maybe it’s not the best time for cold soba though.” “It’s always a good time for cold soba.”, he answered, completely serious but you still laughed. You laughed because it sounded like him. You laughed because it would ease the excitement stuck in your stomach from what he had said before. You laughed because at that moment you felt so incredibly wonderful - and who wouldn’t laugh at that?

When you got home you made yourself a cup of tea while Shoto stuck to heating up by the radiator. “Are you sure you still want cold soba? We could always make warm soba.”, you suggested as you poured the hot water into your cup. “I say we make cold soba.”, Shoto shrugged as he kept his hands on the warm radiator. His nose was still red from the cold. “Then we make cold soba.”, you nodded.

After eating and cleaning up you sat down on the couch and turned on the TV. Since you usually sat with a bit of space in between the two of you, you did so. However, this time Shoto scooched closer to you and put your head on his shoulder, only to then wrap his arm around your shoulders. “Is this okay?”, he asked quietly to not disturb the show playing. You could care less about the show, your heart was beating loud enough for you to not even hear it. No words would come out of your mouth so you hummed as an answer to his question. He had been acting very lovingly the entire night, something that he didn’t always do. “Are you okay, Shoto?”, you asked suddenly, “Did something happen at work?” “Why do you ask?” “You just seem... more cuddly?”, you looked up at him, catching him staring but he didn’t look away. “I just missed you then I guess.”, he said, “... and you sent me that picture and that wasn’t very fair.” He looked away and now he couldn’t blame the cold on his reddened face. That’s how you remembered your sweater that you had bought. “Right the sweater!”, you exclaimed, “Can I show you?” “Sure.”, he said and watched you get up, “You seem very excited about this sweater.” “Yes! And you should be too, because now I won’t be stealing yours anymore!”, you took your bag and walked over to the bathroom. “But I like it when you wear my clothes...” “Then...I won’t be stealing your clothes as often anymore!”, you smiled before closing the bathroom door behind you.

You walked out of the bathroom, dressed just like you were in the picture, and walked up to him. He looked over at you, looked you up and down, and then stood up. “What do you think?”, you smiled as he pulled you closer by your waist so that you could wrap your arms around his neck. “I like it more when you wear my clothes... but this is also very nice.”, he leaned down and kissed you quick, “Let’s go have that talk about having children...”, he whispered and started guiding you to the bedroom.

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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years

Text

Little Border Town Pt. II

Summary: Harry starts to find himself more and more drawn to the bookshop owner. She’s maybe not as annoying as he first thought. And maybe Harry isn’t the worst like she thought either. A little notebook, drinks, shoes, and a boat begin to show each other that.

AKA: Harry and Y/N are neighbors that fight all the time, the whole town wants to know when they’ll just fuck.

ello loves, part 2 is finally here pls let me know what you think!! barely proofread sorry... also i think theres gonna be quite a few parts to this because i keep not getting all i want to say said in each part. and im trying to keep the chunks relatively short. — also I made one direction lowkey exist bahaha

Word Count: 9.2k | Warnings: flirty fighting/banter, slowburn

Part 1

The next day Harry found himself walking into the bookshop next door without really thinking about it. He hadn’t seen Y/N again for his early morning run and he had his list for her of the Paul Simon albums he already had. They hadn’t had their windows or shades open last night either so it was the first night he didn’t give her a salute and she didn’t flip him off. The jostle in routine seemed a little weird to him so as he walked through the shop's door and the bell sounded, he thought the smile on his face was because he was well rested and unbothered by anything.

Y/N had slept in this morning. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but the beginning of Fall always put her in a cozy sleepy mood. She wanted to go to a pumpkin patch and watch a fire burn out in a fireplace. She wanted to listen to her halloween playlist and plan out an intricate costume with her friends. All of this was a wistful dream though. She had quickly learned that the little border town didn’t celebrate Halloween how they did in the States or any major cities. It was okay, at the end of the day, even if she was a little bummed about it. This was her new life and she would have to adapt to the new customs.

After she walked downstairs and unlocked the door, she went back over to her front counter. Yesterday, right when Harry had come in, she had found a booklet of Marie’s. It was leafed over to the point that all the pages were crinkled and dirtied from hand debris. Each page was filled with her loopy handwriting, all of it in French. She must have only liked blue pens because even if the type changed over different pages, the color was always blue. Each page was headed with a name, a customer’s name Y/N was starting to realize as she leafed through the pages. She sat back on the wooden stool she had gotten for behind the counter and propped the book in her hand. After the name of the customer there were extensive details on them. Not their purchases specifically, but their preferences, their personality, and just tidbits about any quirks they had or interesting things Marie had decided were of note.

She found many names that were now familiar to her after her few months of living in the little border town. There really weren't that many people to get to know and the tourists were starting to die down now that the school year was getting back in. After a few minutes of pouring over Monsieur Friedfrickson’s page, who lives across the street from her and runs the flower and gardening supplies shop, she flips to an even more familiar name’s page.

“Harry Styles.” The page had the name written out in strong tall letters. Marie had used a blue inky pen for his page, not a ballpoint. “Likes Music. Poetry. Love stories. Romance with a happy ending, but also likes the practical love too.” The interests are laid out plain and she purses her lips at the idea that Harry is interested in romance novels. She wondered what type of poetry he liked since Marie didn’t seem to think that had to be elaborated on. “He’s a special one,” it reads and Y/N scoffs to herself, really Marie? She reads on, “His heart is in the right place, but he’s got a mouth on him. Quick-witted and charming, but kind-hearted and sincere.” She pauses, and flicks the page back and forth, checking that it still reads Harry’s name when she gets back to it. Was she really the only one who found Harry vapid and annoying? Sure she had softened a little towards him since she had arrived, but they were by no means friends. “While seemingly perfect in every way, Harry is actually-” it reads and she mutters to herself, “Ok, now we’re getting somewhere.” “While seemingly perfect in every way, Harry is actually scared of his own shadow.” “This can’t be real!” She once again scoffs at the book and looks up to the ceiling like Marie is going to talk back to her from beyond. “His exterior persona is very strong, both physically and in his personality, but it seems like he’s just waiting for that right person that he can really be vulnerable with and let them into what he’s really thinking. He’s looking for his Angie.” Now she’s just confused. Who the fuck is Angie? She almost doesn’t finish reading the page because honestly it’s just making her mad, but there’s only a few more lines. “Lots of tattoos, why so many tattoos? Thinks he’s funnier than he is. Flamboyant Harry is best.” And beside that last sentence is a star. She tries to hold in her laughter. At least it wasn’t a complete page of praise for Harry.

Thinking back to her knowledge of Harry, she realizes that Marie must have known him for about three years. Maybe more if he had come to visit before moving there officially. She agreed with Marie that Harry had a lot of tattoos and that he thinks he’s funnier than he truly is, but she was yet to see flamboyant Harry. She knew he painted his nails and wore rings, as well as interesting clothes, but she wouldn’t say he was particularly flamboyant for any of that. That comment definitely piqued her interest. When would Marie have seen Harry where he was being flamboyant?

Her eyes scan over the page once more and realize that this book is only for the most current year. Marie re-did the customers' outlines every year. So this was this past year before Marie died. She wondered where the other books might be and if Harry’s outline had changed over time and also if her name was in the one from when she had visited. That would be interesting to read. It’s strange to read a dead person’s private musings. To her knowledge, no one else alive knew the contents of these pages and these pages seemed especially personal since they spoke of people’s lives and who they were at their core. Maybe that’s why she didn’t hear the chime of the door this morning when the first customer arrived.

Her eyes don’t shoot up from the page until two ringed hands enter her eye line on the counter. The tanned skin, with the gold and silver dazzling rings on each finger and the cross tattoo all register in her mind as her eyes go wide. She snaps the book shut when her eyes meet Harry’s almost ivy green eyes - they’re darker in the foggy fall light streaming through the window today. She hadn’t even turned on the lights yet in the store, the natural light being enough for her this morning. The book is clutched in her hands as Harry’s smile widens to a grin of amusement.

“What have you got there?”

There’s no cover on the book so he can’t make anything out about it. He assumes it’s some novel she’s embarrassed of and has chosen to slip the cover off of to keep anonymity of it. This assumption is why his tone is so teasing and why she grimaces at him in response. Her cheeks have also tinted themselves, she’s flustered that the man she had just been conversing about with the book was now in the store.

“None of your business.”

“I guess not.” He replies easily when she responds curtly and places the book out of sight somewhere under the countertop.

“Why are you here again?” She’s avoiding his eye contact now, feeling like she’s been caught doing something she shouldn’t have been even though it was perfectly within her right to read something that now belonged to her.

Harry’s smile falters with her followed curt reply. Annoyance settling in, Harry straightens up and removes his hands from the counter. The familiar feeling doesn’t exactly feel nice, but familiarity is better than discomfort. “You wanted a list of my Paul Simon records? So you could order me one I didn’t already have?”

She looks at him curiously as the conversation comes back to her from yesterday morning and she nods. That conversation was real. “Oh yeah, I said that.” She replies, still not looking at him. “Okay,” she says when he doesn’t move or do anything. Her eyes widen, silently asking him to get on with it.

His hands shove into his pockets, searching around for a list he apparently had made. They come out empty. He pats over his jacket pockets and feels nothing but his phone and wallet, no list. “Fuck,” he mutters beneath his breath. She scratches at her eyebrow and sits back on her stool, seeming like she might be waiting awhile. After a few more minutes and no produced list, she sighs. “Do you just want to go next door and grab it since you obviously forgot it?”

“I didn’t forget it…” His voice is low and he shoots a glare at her, the annoyance that had come back had now doubled.

“You did, but it’s okay if you can’t admit that-”

“It must have fallen out of my pocket!” He insists.

She rolls her eyes and stands up. Walking to the front door, she looks on the ground and then a little ways outside. “I don’t see it, just go back and get it. You probably left it in your boudoir, it’s fine.” Her tone is a little less condescending now and more understanding. She forgets stuff all the time and she really wasn’t trying to be rude when he first came in. He had just startled her is all.

He turns around to face her. Her body is now completely out in the open area of the front of the store. His head tilts and one of his loose curls flops over his forehead while he takes in her appearance. “Why do you do that?”

She wets her lips and steps closer to him, more on her way back to the counter than anything. “Do what?” She’s oblivious to what he’s taken note of.

“When you have a conversation in English you’ll swap in some words that are French. They’re easy words to figure out and you don’t do it a lot, but you’ve done it enough times for me to notice.”

“Oh...I don’t know. I prefer French to English. It’s so much sexier.” She walks closer to him and utters her next sentence as she brushes past his shoulder. His gaze follows her every movement. “Would you prefer a girl to whisper in your ear, “let’s go back to my bedroom” or “let’s go back to my boudoir.”?” Her French accent hangs in the air with the word and compared to the hard American accent she had employed for ‘bedroom’, ‘boudoir’ sounds far more dirty this time than before.

A shiver rolls down Harry’s spine, but he doesn’t let it show. She shrugs her shoulders, “I think the answer is clear.” He clears his throat in response and a smile grows on her face. “Don’t you agree, monsieur?” She leans her head into her hand now that she’s behind the counter and looks up at him sweetly. He knows she’s teasing him now, her smile more of a sultry smirk.

“Piccola diavola,” his Italian rolls off his tongue and she squints at his words. She knows “devil” but the first word troubles her - it just means little. Her Italian really wasn’t strong and it hadn’t improved that much since she’d been in the little border town. But she also wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of asking what he had said. Harry chuckles at her confusion and relaxes now that he feels the playing field has leveled once again.

“So your list… Do you want to go grab it? Or if you can just list it off the top of your head? As enthralling as your conversation skills are, I actually don’t have all day.” She trails off again, her questions lilting from her mouth after regaining some composure.

“I wasn’t the one teasing about taking someone up to their bedroom,” he huffs. Her face colors with crimson. While she had been teasing him, she didn’t want to be called out for it.

“Wasn’t teasing…”

“So it was a serious offer?” He inquires with a lop-sided grin, changing the meaning behind her words in one fellow swoop.

“That’s not what I was saying! Shut up and give me your list.” Now her blush was all over her face and neck, and she was totally and completely flustered by Harry. She glanced down at her hands that were fiddling with a pen and paper, ready to write his words down.

“I can either shut up or tell you my list. But it’s sadly one or the other, love.”

She groans and takes her free hand to run it over her face. “Just tell me what you already have, Harry. Please.”

“Okay, okay,” he chuckles and spreads out his hands in front of them both. He crosses back to the counter and leans on it once more. They are in close proximity once again, only the counter between them now and she can feel his hot breath fan over her softly. Smells of wintergreen gum, her favorite.

She glances up at him and their eyes hook together for a moment before she tears hers away to look back at the paper. He rattles off a good amount of Paul Simon’s albums and she nods approvingly as she scribbles the names down. She would have to look through his discography to find the ones Harry didn’t have and she probably could’ve made Harry do that and then give her that list, but she didn’t. It was too late now to do that as well, so she’d just have to live with her decision.

When he finishes, she glances at him once again. His eyes are very large. A detail that isn’t really important about him is seared in her mind. They’re big and they’re staring right at her. His pupils are almost as big as his irises, it was interesting. Her eyes shift under his gaze after a beat and she straightens up again. While they went over his list, she had indulged in the close proximity, the mingling of warm breath and brushed hands as she scribbled and he pondered. She nods a farewell, “I’ll let you know when I order next, but I won’t say what album you’ll get. It will be a surprise.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else from you,” his smile snaps back to his face and he scratches absentmindedly at his side. He hesitates before exiting the store. “I have a question.”

“Don’t need my permission.”

He emits a half-laugh, half-scoff from his parted lips. “Wasn’t asking for it...How come you never go out?”

She stares at him curiously, her head tilting to the right. “How would you know I don’t get out?” She challenges him.

“There’s only one pub in this little town and I’m your next door neighbor. I know.” He’s insistent on being right.

She scoffs, but only in an attempt to cover up her embarrassment. Her skin had finally cooled from all the excitement that had happened earlier and she wasn’t in the mood to grow red once again. Today was the first day she had ever felt flustered by Harry. It was annoying, it made her feel out of control. She liked to go out well enough, maybe more than the average person. But she’d only been in the little border town for a few months and going out hadn’t been on the top of her list of things to do. Sure, it would be nice to go get a drink out in the town, but she didn’t really have anyone to go with. Meeting people wasn’t hard in the town, but there weren't many people who were her age and she hadn’t particularly clicked with anyone where she would want to go out on the town with them. It was embarrassing to face the fact that she wasn’t flourishing as much as she had hoped. She was happy, but being confronted with the truth that she hadn’t gone out yet dampened her belief in her success in the little border town.

“I - It’s not at the top of my list of priorities,” she stutters, her chin raising a little in indignance.

One of his shoulders shrugs and Harry makes a little face as if he was indifferent to her answer, even though she knew much better than that. Harry always wanted to get a reaction out of her, maybe that was all he gained from their interactions - entertainment. She didn’t know, but she didn’t feel like giving him the satisfaction and left it at that. His eyes meet hers again, his stare far more intense now. “Ciao, diavola.” He simpers, repeating the little nickname. It was far more sultry of a nickname than ‘Shrimp’ but she wasn’t going to complain. She rolls her eyes in response, the only correct one at that.

That night, she found herself feeling pulled to journey down to the pub. It was on the Italian side and like she had acknowledged to Harry, she hadn’t been. She wouldn’t admit to anyone, especially not Harry, that his question had been what had pushed her towards the establishment when night fell. Yet, here she was. Her pants were dark red silk that matched the black tank top with red embellishments that she wore over her chest - the only part of her it really covered. Her boots were a matching black with gold metal bits, they were knock-off horsebit Gucci shoes, the closest she could get to the real thing with her modest budget. She was having to be more frugal lately, after buying her car here in September, she had really seen how little money she truly had.

The heels of her boots clicked against the cobblestones as she stalked up to the front of the bar. There was happy chatter seeping out the open door, the warm but dimmed light also flooding out along with the sounds of people within. Taking a deep breath and fiddling with the waistband of her pants for a second, she made her way into the bar. Stepping off the deep end and making the plunge. She knew there was nothing to be afraid of, but after months of not going there, she felt a little sense of apprehension now.

The warmth was the most surprising bit of the bar that she felt when she stepped past the threshold. Some Italian song was buzzing below the words of the patrons and she smiled at the automatic welcome she felt upon entering.

At the tables, there was a mix of younger and older patrons. At the bar, there wasn’t much of anyone. The young bartender leans across the bar to talk to another man, who had dark brown wavy hair and a dark linen shirt on. He’s seated at the bar and his back is to her so she can’t make out anymore than that. She doesn’t notice the myriad of tattoos gracing the patron’s arm that rests casually on the bar as he laughs at something the bartender had said, just for him.

She smiles, thinking it’s a cute little flirtation between the two and hates that she has to go over to break it up. Her movement gets the bartender’s attention easily and has the patron glancing her way as well. The smile she had once had falters off of her face and her eyes go wide at the realization of who she has settled herself beside. She had left a seat open between her and the man, but now she wished she had chosen a spot across the bar and simply flagged down the bartender. Better yet, she wished she had stayed home. As her smile falls away, Harry’s only grows wider. He’s grinning down at her as he moves his whole body to face her.

“Ciao!” The bartender starters, not noticing her discomfort at seeing Harry. He begins to ask what she would like in Italian, but her eyes widen even further. He’s speaking far too fast for her and she blushed in embarrassment. In her fluster, she forgets to even try French and she just stares dumbfoundedly at the handsome man behind the bar, who’s now looking at her with great curiosity. Harry has watched the entire thing and chuckles behind his glass. She has no attention span left to allow her to even try and guess what he’s drinking.

He interjects for her, actually saving her any more embarrassment, surprisingly. “She doesn’t speak Italian. She’s from the French side and new in town, so she hasn’t been able to refine her Italian.” The bartender gives a smile and nod of understanding in her way and she wishes she knew what Harry had just said. Whatever it is makes the bartender switch to French for her and her jaw goes from being dropped back into a normal position.

“What can I get for you, mademoiselle?” He transitions smoothly and she smiles, his French accent sounding practically perfect. She’s recomposed herself, but Harry is still watching her intently, like a reality television show that he can’t wait for the trainwreck finale to occur on.

After she orders, the bartender gives her a wink and then walks off to get what he needs to begin preparing her drink. Harry slides over, eliminating the courteous one seat between them. Her eyes watch the movement and she refrains from the letting out the sigh festering in her chest. She really had hoped he would not be here tonight, at least that’s what she believed. She truly felt embarrassed that the night after Harry had accused her of never going out, he had seen her out. But it also was nice not to be sitting in the bar alone. It seemed that Harry had been sitting alone at the bar before she had come in, but she also wasn’t Harry and didn’t know how much enjoyment she would have gotten out of being alone.

“I see my words had some effect on you.” He says out of the corner of his mouth after running his tongue over the bottom of his lip. Her scoff once again dies in her throat because she knows he’s right and he knows it too. There is no being proud right now. He essentially caught her red handed.

“Thought I’d come out and see what all the fuss was about. I see you’re alone tonight, but I assume that’s how most nights go.”

“You should know by now that is simply not true.”

“Just because you leave with someone doesn’t mean you come with someone.”

“I guess…” He trails off.

She picks up when he doesn’t seem to have any more of a response. “How do you even meet people here? Isn’t it all locals?”

“Not always. Not all of the people here are locals tonight,” He scans the crowd. “She’s visiting...So is she...that whole group actually. Look French. So we’ve got a group from Nice tonight…” He looks a bit more. “Eh, that looks like it tonight, but still. It’s plenty.” He finishes with a smirk and she grimaces, understanding the meaning behind his words.

The bartender returns with her White Russian, which Harry had cocked his head at, but had kept his opinion to himself for once. Expecting Roman to return to their conversation, Harry turns his attention back to him, but he is only greeted with the side of his head because Roman is still staring at Y/N. He coos something to her in French, that Harry can’t pick up and his nostrils flare when she emits a giggle following their exchange. The two people he was last talking to were now ignoring him to talk to each other. How rude.

After another moment without their attention, he huffs loudly. Roman seems too entranced in Y/N to notice, but her eyes slide over to him. “Yes?” She inquires, albeit disdainfully.

Harry isn’t sure what to say to her now that he’s gained her attention. He was on his second drink and her stare has made his mind go blank. All he had wanted was for her to stop flirting with Roman so that she’d pay attention to him. But he hadn’t thought of his next step yet. He takes a sip of his beer to grant him a little more time and she rolls her eyes at his action. His mind rattles through possible things to say, but every single one is coming up as not good enough.

“I used to be in a band.”

Her head tilts and she swivels more to Harry. His comment is unexpected and rather intriguing. She had expected something annoying or rude. Truly she had just expected him to say “Nothing” once he had swallowed his drink so he could distract her from enjoying her night.

“You were in a band?” She asks incredulously, her voice pitching slightly higher than normal. While Harry was many things, including handsome, she just didn’t think he had the right persona to be in a band. He dressed like a grandfather most days and he tended to a little shoe shop, he didn’t come off as a guy who would enjoy traveling around performing. The constant praise would be on brand though, she conceded.

Harry nods and bites back his smile, knowing he had struck the perfect chord. “I was...it only took off in the UK but we were pretty popular.” He boasts.

“So what do you play?”

Harry’s eyes widen, expecting more of a question about the name of the band or something. “Well, it was, like, a boy band…” He says.

She was taking a sip of her drink and she contained her little laugh behind her glass. Another hum as she swallows the liquid that burns her throat a bit. “Oh. Interesting. So no instruments.”

“Well I can play a bit of guitar and piano!” He adds quickly, seeing her eyes shift away from him, like she thinks the conversation is over. “I was thinking of trying a solo thing, but then plans changed...”

“And now you’re here?”

He echoes her, affirming the question. “Now I’m here and I’m not leaving.”

“You don’t miss it then?”

“Didn’t say that. I miss it at times, but this is where my life took me and I’m happy to be here. Maybe happier than I ever was in the band.” His eyes stare at the liquid in his glass and he swirls it lightly, determined to study the way it moves as he ponders something quite personal to him. He never really talked about his past with anyone here. Saying he was in a band and retrospecting that time are two very different things to share with someone. She’s just watching him now, not trying to make a quip or bug him. His demeanor shows that’s not something he’s very interested in hearing right now.

She experimentally puts a finger on his knee when it seems that he’ll never raise his gaze from his glass. His eyes move down to the tiny pressure he feels and sees her painted nail poking in to him. His tongue darts across his lower lip as he raises his head to meet her eyes. He notices the sparkle in them, she finds amusement in the childish gesture and so does he.

“I do miss the stage though,” he admits, smiling more now. “Performing. It was like nothing else.” Instead of a sad state of mind, his look is far more wistful now and she actually feels the smile growing on her face.

“You’ll have to sing for me sometime, then.” She says resolutely after taking the last bit of her drink and then pushing the glass across the bar. Roman had wandered off, much to Harry’s pleasure, but now they both needed another round so she was looking for him.

Harry slides over a chair so that they’re sat side by side. He had originally done it to reach across her for a napkin, but then hadn’t retreated to his original seat after he was successful. They talk as they drink, but most of it seems to be flirtatious teasing even if neither of them recognize that fully. Harry just wanted her attention earlier and now he found that he wanted to keep talking to her all night. It was a Friday and usually he would be looking for someone to take home. The group of women at a table that he had observed were visitors would be a perfect place to start his quest, but that wasn’t on his mind. He liked watching the different shades of blush Y/N’s face kept turning as she drank more and how silly she was getting with each passing drink.

She was enjoying her time out, she had only gotten wine drunk in the confines of her little home since she’d been in the little border town. And that endeavour was all by herself. It was much more fun when you had someone to talk to, so joking around with Harry was a nice surprise. She no longer felt embarrassed about showing up after he had teased her for never going out earlier today. Now she felt empowered, like she could come to the bar whenever she pleased. He was nicer than she had realized. His hand was quick to encircle her back respectfully when she laughed a little too hard at a joke and began to tip off her stool. His smile was genuine and his eyes didn’t flit over her body more than once. His jokes were funnier than she had first thought or maybe that was just the alcohol clouding her mind, that one she wasn’t sure about. But, truthfully, Harry was exceeding expectations tonight and being a stand up human being for once, in her eyes.

A couple at the end of the bar, locals, watched on as the shoemaker and the bookkeeper threw back their heads in boisterous laughter and placed their hands on each other chastely. The older women smiled to themselves as Y/N smacked Harry’s bicep after an especially cheeky joke he told her. They were going to have a field day with this interaction once they told their friends tomorrow morning.

After drink three, she definitely felt drunk. Not completely out of it and can’t walk drunk, but I haven’t drank anything stronger than wine in months so three cocktails are kind of hitting me drunk. And because of that buzz that’s enclosed her mind and body, it makes perfect sense to her that Harry’s hand is resting casually on her knee as they talk. It also makes perfect sense to her to cross her legs, causing two things to happen. Harry’s hand shifts up further on her thigh and her boot is now dangling right next to Harry’s shin. The fabric of his cream linen trousers look especially soft and so the next logical move in her mind is to rub her foot against the fabric. She hooks around her foot easily and the patent leather of her shoe slips softly against the pant leg that flows over Harry’s calf.

He hums lowly at the feeling, but makes no other notion to acknowledge what she is doing. After the hum he gets back to the story he’s telling her about his boat. She had been extremely interested in the boat initially, but not she was transfixed on the feeling of the fabric slipping past her boot. When he shifts his leg, absentmindedly or not, she almost squeaks because this movement has Harry’s foot brushing around her ankle. The footsy was occurring without any acknowledgement of it besides small sounds the two had made in their chests. No knowing looks, just the presence of each other’s bodies against one another.

He had switched to a Manhattan after his second beer for some reason that she didn’t ask, but he was enjoying it nonetheless. When she slipped her foot against his calf, it had sent a spark of electricity from the point of contact up to his alcohol muddled head. It felt nice so he went with it.

Around midnight the two of them were practically in each other’s laps, nursing their fourth round. Brains a million miles away while their glassy eyes stared at each other. Harry’s arm nestled around her waist while hers played with the stir stick in his glass. Their heads inches away, closer than they’d ever been before.

Somehow they decided they should walk home about then. Maybe Harry had checked his phone and decided he was done. Maybe she had glanced at the clock above the bar and realized she needed to go to bed. Either way, they slammed down the last bits of their drinks and stumbled into the street. With only each other to hold them up, they had some trouble gaining their balance. They could walk just fine if they wanted to be serious, but Harry kept trying to step literally on her toes and she kept throwing all her weight into his side. Both of their actions would cause them to stumble one way or another along the empty streets. Their blurred minds thankfully didn’t get them lost, but the travel time back to their places was far greater than the travel time to the bar initially.

Finally arriving at the border of Italy and France, their shops and homes, she stared up at Harry under the glow of the streetlamp across the street. His hair looked more dark brown than his usual caramel chestnut in the light. His linen outfit billowed across his pectorals that were exposed. A tan golden color that he seemed to maintain from his frequent runs and trips on his boat. His jaw had a bit more stubble on it now, his morning shave no longer sleek on his skin. His mustache was still the most prominent bit of facial hair he had and she wondered what he might look like without it. She also thought if she’d ever kissed a man with a mustache, her mind was pretty sure she hadn’t.

As she stared, she moved from his side and took a step closer to her door. His hand reached out and grabbed her wrist, stopping her and bringing her attention to his eyes. He dropped her hand and stepped closer to her. They had been laughing about some weird encounter she had in Nice the other week. But now their laughter had faded out, the conversation all but forgotten.

“Hi.” She says meekly.

“Hi,” Harry laughs.

“I had fun tonight,” she muses and takes a step forward. She began swinging her arms back and forth, rocking on her feet. She felt antsy now that it was so quiet. The silence made her realize it was really just her and Harry together right now. Which wasn’t unusual, they had been alone together plenty of times. Maybe it was the time of night, but it felt far more intimate to her this time which made her squirm a little. Why was she nervous with Harry right now?

Harry nods and laughs again at her actions. “Yeah, you’re not so bad.”

Neither of them realized the proximity of their bodies until her hand swung a little higher and hit Harry’s hip bone. “Oh! Sorry!” She moves to take a step back, but Harry grabs her hand once again and tugs her even closer. Bringing them chest to chest under the lamp light. Her eyes flicker between where their bodies touch and Harry’s face. He’s looking down at her sweetly, gently. She feels safe with the way he’s looking at her. The warmth radiating from him was a nice contrast to the dark cold of night. The open expanse of skin that lived between the two sides of his mostly unbuttoned shirt seemed to have the most heat coming off of it. He had a jade cross that hung between the two muscles and she almost reached out to play with it. If it hadn’t been so dark and she hadn’t been so inebriated she would have realized the color matched his eyes almost exactly.

He’s not quite sure what he’s doing, but for some reason it feels like he might kiss her. The mood that was set by their surroundings made it sound right. Romantic even. Her lips look precious too, plump and puckered, flushed from alcohol and the brisk night air. They look a little glossy too from the last time she had wet them. He wanted to feel them for himself. His head ducks to move his lips to touch hers.

Upon registering his movement, she moves her hand from his grasp and places it on his chest, causing him to take a small step back.

“I think...I think this should be goodnight, Harry.” She breathes out. She’s trying to clear her mind enough to have conviction in her decision.

After a little intake of air, less than a gasp, Harry agrees, running a hand through his hair, “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Her hand slips from his warm chest, immediately curling in on itself to maintain the warmth his body had just provided. She watches her tendons in her hand ripple before looking back at Harry with heavy eyes. He doesn’t seem to want to make eye contact with her, but she’s determined to leave on a good note.

“Thank you, Harry.” He looks up from beneath his lashes at his name, like a shy toddler. “You gave me the push to face a fear of mine.” With her final words she crosses the little distance between them once again and places a chaste kiss to his cheek. Immediately, his cheek flushes and she can feel the heat beneath her lips, as well as the light prickle of his stubble. Harry swallows, causing his Adam's apple to bob quickly, at the contact. His senses get overloaded with the sweet kiss and the smell of her perfume. It all swims through his consciousness.

She smiles as she pulls away and then turns to let herself into her place without another word. Once unlocked, she gives one last glance to Harry who’s also busying himself with opening his door. She doesn’t see that his free hand is caressing over his cheek where her lips had just been.

The next day, she woke up and groaned feeling the stiffness in her body. Especially her head. Oh god, her head. It was like she was back in college, but worse because she wasn’t as young. At least she didn’t have to roll out of bed for an 8 am lecture. For that, she was thankful. Still, the pounding needed to stop or subside at least. Grumbling, she threw her legs off the side of her bed, the fuzzy socks she had slipped on in her drunken stupor settled on the hardwood. She dragged her body to her window and raised the shade. Her window was fogged from the difference in temperature outside and in her room. Kneeling down, she began to pull open the window, in need of the cool fresh air on her clammy skin. Three drinks, or was it four? She couldn’t remember, either way, it was too many.

Her eyes glanced around the view of the window. It wasn’t much since it was so close to the building right next door. Peaking up, she could see the already clouded sky. To the left she could see the street and to the right was more buildings. The scene most easily accessible was the window right across from her. The shade was mostly closed, a little bit of the floor could be seen where Harry hadn’t lowered it completely. It was just the same hardwood as what she sat on staring back at her. She sat there, breathing in the crisp morning air. After a night of drinking, she usually woke up rather early, today was no different.

It dawned on her, far too slowly, that a pair of feet had entered the plain hardwood scene she had been staring at outside her window. A tiny stage now filled with two matching characters. The pair of feet were tanned and large. Little tattoos seemed to be sprinkled both on the toes and the ankles of the feet. She couldn’t read them even if she tried. But upon realizing what these feet might be doing, she had been discouraged from staring any longer. Still, her brain was foggy and her body was not nearly quick enough to hide her from view as the owner of the feet did something to open his shade as well. Then, once again, like deja vu, she was staring at her naked neighbor. Thankfully, this time, he had briefs adorning his hips to keep covering the part of him that would keep her up for weeks trying to forget again. The briefs were, just that. Brief. Low on the hips and barely touching his thighs, it seemed they really only existed to keep that one appendage covered. Still, she had to tear her eyes away from the lower half of his body and let the embarrassment wash over her when she met his eyes.

The knowing smirk of his has him nibbling at the inside of his cheek. She had been checking him out. It was a nice confidence boost after last night. The awkwardness of her stopping him from kissing her had him spiraling in his mind when he went to bed. He didn’t know why he had even tried to kiss her in the first place, probably just because he was drunk. Yeah, he was drunk and feeling needy on a friday night. That’s what it was and she had been there.

He’d have to thank her today for putting a stop to that colossal mistake. They were barely just friends, he hated to think what would happen if he’d done something so reckless as to kiss her out of the blue. Still, he couldn’t shake the thought in the back of his mind that he had gotten the vibe from somewhere. Why else would his drunken mind tell him to kiss her under the glow of the lamp light. He thought back to the bar and what they had talked about. He wouldn’t categorize it as overly flirty. He thought back to their physical interactions at the bar, okay, maybe his hand on her thigh and her playing with his drink was a little flirtatious. But that could be boiled down to him being close to hear her in the bar and her idle fingers wanting something to do while she was drunk. The footsy, though. He wasn’t sure if he could explain that one away. Instead, he would choose to ignore it. If he didn’t think about it, did it actually happen? Was it something he had to worry about? Not in his mind.

Returning his focus to the girl in the window across from him, his smirk was now fully fleshed out on his face. She was still sitting on her knees as Harry looked down at her and if they were in the same room this might have seemed like a rather compromising position. Her cheeks were still red, noticing the difference in height, she clambered to her feet.

“G’morning,” Harry’s voice is groggy and deep. Scratchy almost from the alcohol he had drank last night. It rings through her ears lowly and seems to have her blushing even more. It’s a different feeling than how his voice used to make her feel.

“Hey,” She clears her throat before responding, not wanting her morning voice to crack in front of Harry. Usually she would talk to herself a bit or sing along to her music before going downstairs, not wanting her first customers to hear her as if she just woke up. For some reason, she makes a little wave along with her greeting, feeling especially awkward at this moment. Harry chuckles and repeats her motion. His large hands mimicking the same daunting motion makes her laugh and releases some of the nervous energy she had been holding in her body.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he openly flirts, placing one hand on his naked torso and the other against the frame of the window, leaning towards her. His movement flexes just about every muscle in his body and she keeps her eyes trained on his face, determined not to be caught gawking once more.

A roll of her eyes and she’s back to staring straight into his green ones that he’s still blinking awake. “It’s almost like we’re neighbors.”

He scrunches his nose at her deadpan. “You’re no fun,” he mutters.

She sighs, “I’m fucking hungover after last night…” and runs a hand through her tousled hair.

Her foot rests itself over her other, causing her hip to just out slightly. The movement of her body that accentuated her curves and her words have Harry blushing now. The red flowers at the center of his chest and begins to spread up his neck and cheeks. He’s once again presented with the almost kiss last night.

“Big night out for you,” he laughs, “I’ll admit I don’t usually drink that much, bit of a lightweight myself.”

She only hums in response, her fingers beginning to twiddle with the hem of her t-shirt. It reminds her of what she is precisely dressed in. The big t-shirt and tiny pajama shorts that Harry can’t even see are the only things on her body besides the socks on her feet. She glances down at her legs and takes in the expanse of fleshy skin that is showing just below the shirt. Harry’s eyes follow hers and admires the skin there, wondering what it would feel like underneath his big hands.

“I should probably start getting ready for the day,” She says finally, shaking herself from the random thoughts flitting around her mind about bare thighs and the man across from her. “Are you open today?”

Harry emits a noise from the back of his throat at her question. He draws his arm back from the window and stands up straight. His head tilts as he thinks about her question, his mind still muddled this morning.

“Er..no, actually. I was planning on going out on the boat today, switching my closed day to today instead of tomorrow. Why?”

“I’m in need of shoe repair,” she smiles, her eyes catching the glimmer of the sun starting to peak out. Harry swears it’s her eyes genuinely sparkling on their own accord. “But if you’re out today, it can wait.” She begins to walk away from the window to go to another room in her apartment.

“No!” Harry steps forward, but is restricted by the screen, which keeps him from falling out of his window. She swivels around, looking at him curiously. “I can - you can just come over. I’ll fix it up for you before I head out.”

“Really?” She’s truly surprised that Harry would do such a nice thing for her. She knew they were getting along better, but for him to open shop just for her repair seemed overly nice.

“I mean,” and Harry’s once again blushing under her gaze and he’s hoping she can’t see it. “What are neighbors for?”

“I guess,” she’s still unsure. He seems like he’s nervous, his body tenses and one of his hands twisted in his curls. Harry’s so weird. “Thanks.”

She jogs the short distance from her front door to Harry’s once she’s ready. The pair of deep teal almost navy loafers she needed new soles in - she was pretty sure - in hand. A red pinstripe blouse half buttoned falling over her figure perfectly, hugging the right spots and flowing over the others. She’s in white jeans today that are flared slightly but also cropped. As it gets closer to Halloween she keeps having to remind herself not to dress festive and it’s a struggle everyday.

When she reaches the door, it doesn’t open. The cream door doesn’t budge as she tempts the handle with her free hand. She looks between the handle and the inside of the shop. Her eyes search for Harry’s figure. She had been inside his shop only a handful of times, never for a repair before. Maybe less than a handful, once to check it out and once again when she thought she needed a new pair of shoes and then decided against it. Oh, and that one time she went over to yell at him about something. Maybe the planters, maybe the shade, she couldn’t remember anymore.

Now that she thought about it, she had been in the bookshop once more. Two and a half years ago when she had visited the little border town for the first time. It was a little fuzzy for a memory, but she was sure she had at least peaked into the shoe shop after her lengthy visit with Marie the second day there. It looked just as it did now, maybe it used to be a little more vibrant, but she couldn’t be sure. She remembered an older man in the shop greeting her in Italian and her offering her sad ‘Ciao’. Back then she was even worse at Italian. He had looked at her with kind eyes and a sweet smile. It was a similar lopsided grin that she had now grown accustomed to on another man’s face. After beckoning her over to him the old man had turned away from her and shouted into the back of the store in quick Italian. It blew over her head completely. There must have been someone in the back of the shop who he had talked to. She was sure of it, because after she had perused the cute boots and shoes he kept, she saw a swish of hair coming around the counter. It was just as she was turning around to exit the shop, after she had bid farewell to the man she now connected as Joe. Whoever it was had long hair and was tall, slinking out into the main shop floor. The mysterious stranger was whoever Joe had shouted to in the back.

Y/N wasn’t the quickest when it came to timelines and how people could change over time. She didn’t connect the year she had visited with the year of someone else's arrival or the same chestnut waves cascading around someone’s face, just now much shorter. It made perfect sense who would be in the back of the store, but for some reason the idea of time and hair length were standing in this girl’s way. Oh well, maybe Harry would spell it out to her someday.

Harry finally rounds the counter that separated the back room to the front. The shoe shop was set up a little different from the bookstore. Her counter was right when you came in while Harry’s was about halfway through the shop. He shakes his head and laughs at her expression. The sound brings her out of her memory as well as a grimace on her face.

“Sorry, I was a million years away.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s ‘a million miles away’, love.” Harry continues chuckling while correcting the girl in front of him.

She holds up her pair of shoes, ignoring his teasing. “Fix my shoes, shoe man.”

His smile drops and he walks back from the door. His feet taking back steps as he beckons her into the interior of the shop. When they reach the corner, he takes the shoes from her hands and places them between their bodies. The teal loafers stare up at them. Harry inspects them, a serious expression falling over his features. His brows scrunch together slightly, the wrinkles in his forehead growing more prominent as he examines the shoes. Large hands reach out and begin to finger over the patent leather on the top and the leather soles. After a few minutes of silent deliberation, he places down one of the shoes and then holds the other up as if to showcase it.

“These,” he juts out the shoe in his hand, “need new soles. What did you do to ‘em?”

“I wear them a lot.” She insists while Harry looks on quizzically.

“I’ve never seen you wear these.”

Her brow quirks at his comment. “I wore them a lot before I got here,” she corrects. “They’ve been feeling wonky every time I try to wear them, must be because they need new soles.”

Harry nods, now satisfied with her answer. He hums, regarding the teal shoe in his hand once again. “Alright.”

She looks at him confused once again. “Alright what? Can you fix them?” What does he mean by ‘Alright’? “I’ve honestly missed wearing them these past few months.”

Harry bites his tongue, a quip ready to be voiced. He’d gotten so used to fighting with her, he was confused how it had slipped away all so easily. His fear of them not talking if they stopped fighting didn’t seem to come to fruition so he could rest easy on that front. But now he was going to have to retrain his brain not to be rude after every comment Y/N made.

“Yeah, of course.” He sighs, placing the shoe next to its mate and then turning his face to her. She had been chewing on her bottom lip, actually worried for her shoes. They really were her favorites. She’d had them forever and it would be heartbreaking if they had to be thrown out. If she couldn’t wear them though she was almost sure she’d just let them collect dust in her closet rather than dispose of them if it really came down to it.

“But it’s like a good amount of my day to replace soles…”

Her face falls, but she tries to hide it. She knew Harry was doing a favor by taking a look right now. If he could fix them it didn’t matter when he did it. What he says next though truly throws her off. No normal enemy-ship turned somewhat friendship overnight would engage in what Harry was about to propose. If any such relationship other than her and Harry actually existed.

“Do you want to come out on my boat today?” His brow arches, his lips in a soft smile, he’s being genuine.

“Why would I do that?” Her brows raise along with her voice, taken off guard by his suggestion.

“More fun waiting for me to fix your shoes on a boat than in your shop.” He says simply before taking the shoes and placing them in a little cubby hole behind the counter for safe keeping. “Trust me, you’ll love it.” Her expression doesn’t change. “Just say yes,” He pleads now.

She sighs, “Fine.” All of the reasons not to go out on Harry’s boat are at the forefront of her mind, but she still finds herself saying yes easily. His pleading really wasn’t necessary to get her to agree. The bookstore could live with being closed today, it wasn’t going to hurt anyone.

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #eventually both of those will bop up #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #feedback pls ❤️#me putting this uo at 12:30 am oops

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binniedeactivated · 4 years

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𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐟!𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐧. || 🌪💦 (1.4)

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➦ 𝐖/𝐂 | 3k

➦ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 | 𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐚𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭'𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.

➦ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 + 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭

POC = person of color

adriana did it often. whenever she had some time for herself in the midst of her hectic school days she would make it her duty to get to the bathroom just so she can fix her makeup. she didn’t wear makeup because she thought it made her beautiful but it covered up the scars her ex made on her skin. she refused for anyone else to see them or even get a slight glimpse of them. she wanted to leave all that in the past. she didn’t want to have to explain her bruises to anyone.

often times he would try to come back. trying to love her the ‘right’ way this time, or trying to swoon her into thinking that he was finally going to be the man she always wanted. only to be the man she always hated yet again. she didn’t want to be in this situation. she was twenty six she wanted a life, she wanted love and she wanted a family. she loved the kids she taught like they were her own of course but she couldn’t wait for the day she would finally be called mommy.

she was starting to like yeonjun. not just for the sex--although that was pretty good too. but she saw him every morning and every afternoon dropping off and picking up his children, hugging them, kissing them, holding them near him at all times. even if he forgot something he would drop it off in the middle of his day or even if the slightest inconvenience happened to them he would drop everything at the drop of a dime. he had even been invested in their school work, their grades and progress, more than adriana has ever seen any dad concerned about their child. she found that she wasn’t just attracted to the sex, but she was attracted to love he had for his kids.

“ms. A! ms.A!”. myla called frantically from her chair while sipping on her juice box. it happened to be lunch time and the children were sitting at their tables happily chatting away while making messes of their faces. adriana touches her back softly,

“yes myla?”.

she points to the bright pink sticky note inside her lunch box. “what does that say?”.

adriana crouches down to her level to get a better look. she clutches the sticky note and reads it loud enough for myla to hear.

“enjoy your lunch myla. have a great day! daddy loves you ♡ “

adriana smiles a bit, “your dad left you a note today. do you want to maybe keep it and put it in your pocket?”.

myla nods excitedly, opening in her pocket for adriana to just shove it in there. she folds it neatly though and places it that way instead. she stands to her feet shortly after.

“ten more minutes left of lunch time guys, make sure you’re eating”. she announces prior to returning to her desk to finish organizing worksheets.

“your dad packs you lunch?”. andrew, one of the children at the table had asked. myla nods while happily biting into an apple slice.

“that’s so weird. packing lunch is for mommies. My mommy packs my lunch”.

“me too!”.

“ou me three!”.

“‘me four!”.

the other children decided to chime in. their small voices were drowned out by the indistinct chatter around the room. myla slouched her shoulders in shame. she hadn’t thought it was weird for her dad to pack her lunch all this time.

“well my daddy likes to pack my lunch”. she decided to say, although not knowing if she was trying convince them or herself.

“your daddy is weird”. Paige says, chewing into her peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

“he’s not weird don’t talk about my daddy”.

“yes he is. packing lunch is for mommies”. Andrew adds again, licking the oreo icing off the cookie.

myla clenches her small fists growing a little angry at the obnoxious boy. “shut up. daddies can do it too”.

“no they can’t! unless your daddy is a girl. is your daddy a girl?”. he teases, leaving the rest of her lunch table flooding in laughter. myla felt ashamed at each and every kid who laughed at her and made fun of her father. she could feel her cheeks heat and salty tears well in her eyes. she clutched her juice box angrily and threw it at andrew’s face.

“Ow!!”.

“don’t talk about him ever!”.

he rubs his face and sticks out his tongue. “that’s why he’s still a girl!”

“myla! andrew? what is going on?”. adriana rises from her chair behind her desk, only for myla to run straight out of the classroom in full fledge tears.

“you know, you’re really pretty”. daniel complimented his girlfriend Luna. and that she was. she had this pretty black hair that spiraled down her back with bangs along her forehead. she wore these vibrant pastel colored dresses everyday. most importantly though she was sweet to Daniel. and that was something he came to love.

she smiles behind her book at him. It was reading time. yet the duo decided to use the time to whisper to one another instead of reading those boring books that their teacher handed them. “thank you. I showed my mom a picture of you yesterday. she said you’re a cute boy”. daniel chuckles a little. “well tell her I said thank you. It’s been a while since someone has called me that. other than you”.

she strings a piece of hair behind her ear in wonder. “really? my mom always calls me cute. doesn’t yours?”. daniel bites the inside of his cheek in thought. he couldn’t remember the last time his mother even saw him long enough to compliment him. but he wasn’t going to admit that to Luna. he moves his head in uncertainty. “sometimes I guess,”. He lied. “not as much as yours probably though”.

she lays a hand on his shoulder. “well you’re a cute boy daniel”. and that kind of made his heart warm. when Luna reminded daniel of his mother’s shortcomings it was all he could really think about throughout the day. there were a lot of things that he could say his mother hadn’t done for him. for example, most of his friends often bring leftover dinner that their mom cooked to eat at school the next day. or they would talk about the complications of their mom doing their laundry, being too overprotective, nursing them to health when they were sick.

Leah hadn’t done these things since daniel was younger. he only held a faint memory of her making this extravagant dinner one day for his dad’s birthday one year, but that was about it. it never necessarily bothered him because his dad was always there. his dad did his laundry, his dad cooked dinner, his dad was overprotective and his dad took care of him when he sick.

and this was the way it always have been in daniel’s mind. Luna kisses him on the cheek at dismissal before grabbing her jacket and running to her mother’s side. daniel drums his fingers on the table while glimpsing at the both of them. the way she hugged Luna and kissed her forehead, helping her get her jacket on. he could tell she did everything in love, too. daniel wondered if that was why luna was so sweet and kind. he wondered if maybe that’s why he liked her so much.

she had the aura of a mom.

yeonjun approaches the classroom door and myla immediately ran to his legs with a sour expression, to which he he picked her up and allows her head to fall into the crook of his neck. “whats the matter my?”. he whispers, signing his name on the sign out sheet. Adriana advances her way over to them both.

“hey yeonjun. a situation happened with myla and another student today, he was teasing her and she threw her juice box at him. I let myla off with a warning since I don’t tolerate throwing things in my classroom, however since the student was teasing her about personal issues he’s receiving a greater punishment”.

yeonjun nods. “make sure you call me about these types of things alright?”.

adriana’s heart sank. he looked kind of angry but she couldn’t really tell. “will do”. she breathed. damn it. calling him was the one thing she forgot to do.

daniel was glad to leave his classroom when his father arrived. he was already at the door in fact. yeonjun ruffles his hair and pulls him close. After he signed him out though, it was unusual having two silent kids walking with him to the car.

he adjusts the rearview mirror. “myla? what happened at school today?”. she shook her head with a pout at her lips. he knew he was probably going to have to try again when she felt better. it still didn’t stop him from feeling bad though. he nudged daniel next, who was currently staring out the window in the passenger seat.

“what happened with you today?”.

he too gave him a stand-offish response and shrugs his shoulders. he wished he hadn’t let his thoughts get the best of him. he wished it didn’t bother him as much as it did. if only him or myla knew how much their silence and emotions really broke their father’s heart. he’d much rather have them arguing. he decided to reroute himself, choosing to go to one of their favorite destinations.

arriving at pizza planet was one of the best things yeonjun could’ve done. upon arrival myla and daniel could already feel today’s weight lift off their shoulders a little especially with the loud music and obnoxious arcade games blaring at them when they stepped in.

“order whatever you want”. yeonjun says, approaching the food counter with both of them on either side of him. myla clutches his hand, “really? anything?”. yeonjun nods. “yeah anything”. and once the answer was confirmed it took no time for the duo to put in their freakishly odd orders. myla mainly ordered a bunch of desserts that yeonjun knew she didn’t need and Daniel ordered a shitload of pizza. Combined with yeonjun’s order it totaled to quite a dime, but yeonjun didn’t mind at all.

“daddy can we play the games please please please?”.

“yeah can we play the games?”.

“yeah hold on”, yeonjun pauses before pooling out two five dollar bills from his wallet for the both of them. to which they took the money and immediately ran off excitedly to the token exchange machine. Yeonjun laughs in their trail, “wow! no thank you?”.

“thank you daddy!”. they said in unison, rushing to stuff the coins in their pockets.

yeonjun sat at the booth seat and awaited the food although it took a while. the waitress placed everything down neatly around the table.

“so? do you have a girlfriend?”. she asks completely catching yeonjun off guard. she couldn’t look more than seventeen years old.

“married. plus I think you’re a little too young sweetheart”.

she tilts her head a little and smiles with her eyes still focused on getting the drinks on the table. “I’m legal though”.

“no thank you sweetheart”.

in a way it kind of scared him. she was legal sure, but a young adult willing to date a married man with children? it made yeonjun question her morals. especially when she gifted him a small wink before telling him to enjoy his meal.

yeonjun shakes his head in disbelief before calling his kids over to the table. there wasn’t a better feeling to him than seeing them happily munching on their food with attitudes that starkly contrasted the ones they had in the car. he took and napkin and curled it around his finger before wiping the smudged off of myla’s cheeks.

“dad! I finally beat myla in Mario kart”.

“no you didn’t daniel! you’re a cheater”.

“no I won. you just don’t want to admit you lost”.

“I didn’t!”.

“yes you did”.

“don’t worry myla. I’ll teach you how to beat him next time”. yeonjun adds.

“really? do you know how to play?”.

“pft. I’ve been playing Mario kart before you both were even born”.

“that would be cheating! you can’t help her dad that’s not fair”.

myla rolls her eyes choosing to change the subject. “what was I like daddy? when I was born?”.

“very quiet. and sleepy”.

“I didn’t smile or anything?”.

“well when you were a newborn you were kind of mean. you didn’t want anyone to hold you except me”.

myla laughs. “really?”.

“yeah. you were so mean to your mom oh my gosh. you didn’t want to drink milk from the bottle even if she was holding it”.

“was I ever nice?”.

“hm. you were nice when you were just a few months old but only a little bit. you were really calm and relaxed though. you just wanted to play and sleep”.

“what about me?”. daniel asks next.

“oh god, daniel. you were a crybaby”.

myla laughs pointing her finger in his face. “Ha!”.

daniel ignores her though and continues. “what did I cry about?”.

“everything. when you were happy, when you were sad, when you were mad, when you had to sit, when we tried to get you to play, while you were eating. you just cried all the time. we were starting to think you just hated us”.

daniel laughs to himself a bit. “was I good looking?”.

“of course. you and myla were really chubby so it made you even more adorable. you guys always got lots of compliments”.

“more than logan?”.

“No one gets more compliments than logan. not even me”.

daniel decided to playfully tease. “whatever dad we know Logan is your favorite”,

yeonjun laughs. “no he’s not don’t say that. I have no favorites”.

myla sneaks her arms around him. “I’m your favorite right daddy?”.

“why would you be the favorite? you’re annoying”. daniel teases again.

“guys. I have no favorites. you all are my favorites. alright?”.

the both of them scoff wanting him to admit who his favorite was. but they decided they wouldn’t pressure him today since the arcade games were still waiting on them.

***

and being home was like it was every night. yeonjun took care of the household and made sure things were getting done at a reasonable time. but there was always one chore that yeonjun never failed to nag his children about.

“daniel clean your room. what’s that pile of clothes on the floor?”. he points with logan wide awake and clinging to his chest. he stuffs a hand in his mouth and gurgles.

with the gaming headset on daniel didn’t realize how loud his voice actually was. but he was playing over-watch and he failed to lose this mission.

“one more minute dad”.

“do it now. I’m starting laundry soon and I need to know what’s dirty”.

the boy huffs and assures his teammates his return. although his father was being a nag he didn’t hesitate to think the same thoughts he had gotten in school. he was afraid to talk to yeonjun about them. he didn’t want to stress him out more than usual. above all else daniel noticed his mother’s absence during moments such as this and that made him even more grateful for his father.

“thank you. I’m coming back to check”.

daniel wondered if it would be odd to tell him that he loved him at that moment. so he just kept his mouth shut.

you’re annoying but I love you dad, he wanted to say.

thank you for loving me the way that mom doesn’t, he wanted to say.

“myla put your toys in your toy chest. is your laundry basket full?”.

she replies with her eyes still focused on playing with her dolls in her dollhouse. “okay. yes I think”.

yeonjun lugs the basket with him to the door. but myla had a question in mind.

“daddy?”.

“yes?”.

“is packing lunch for mommies?”.

“hm? what do you mean?”.

“the boy at school today said that his mommy packs his lunch. and all the other kids said that their mommies pack their lunch too. what’s wrong if you pack mine?”.

yeonjun’s heart sank. this was the one thing he didn’t want for them.

“there’s nothing wrong me packing it myla. don’t let those kids tell you any different”.

“how come mommy doesn’t do it?”.

“she’s just— she’s just busy. but daddies pack lunch all the time”.

“they do?”.

“yeah. don’t feel bad alright? I do it because I love you and I want to make sure you eat well even while you’re in school. It’s just another form of me showing you how much I love you”.

myla rushes over to hug his legs. it relieved her that he said that. she was starting to think she was just an outcast.

“I love you too”. she whispers.

yeonjun smiles a little and kisses her on her forehead. “I love you more. now go play so I can make sure your brother cleaned his room”.

doing loads of laundry were that bad considering yeonjun always made sure he stayed on top of it all. his kids never had too much dirty clothes so it never took long. “are you ready to do laundry with me logan?”. yeonjun coos to the small baby before opening the washing machine. he turns it on, allowing the water to flood the bottom but something black caught his eye. It happened to be floating in the water.

he reaches his hand down and pulls it out trying to figure out what it was. but once he brought it up for his eyes to see in the light he wasn’t too pleased. it was an opened condom wrapper.

and yeonjun knew it wasn’t his.

#yeonjun #yeonjun smut #choi yeonjun #yeonjun fanfic #choi yeonjun smut #single father au #smut au

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anightflower · 4 years

Text

Come and Find Me

Chapter One: I’m Stuck

I won’t lie when writing the cute parts of the story I listened to “I’m Stuck” by Noah Cyrus.

Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: None

Read Prologue here Masterlist

You stumbled into your favorite coffee shop. You were a mess this morning and it’s all because your alarm decided to fuck you over and not wake you up on time. Luckily your body didn’t completely betray you, naturally waking up an hour later than you had planned, but still giving you a half hour to get to your meeting.

You had screamed when you saw the time, this meeting could be your next big break, and getting there late was not how you wanted to start a new design deal. At a mere 23 years old you were still making your way up into the world. After graduating college a semester early you had worked your ass off and started your own independent interior design business. You focused on designing office spaces for big businesses using workplace psychology to create an environment that brought up productivity and reduced the stress of workers.

Your business was slowly gaining traction, but the company you were meeting today could really put your name out there.

You had planned to wake up early, put yourself together and center yourself over a cup of coffee, however, life can never be that simple. So here you were, quick light makeup and your hair in a simple bun rather than the elaborate “I am a professional” look you planned. The one thing you did have going for you was your outfit, a white blouse that complimented your figure and tan capri pants, with a strappy heeled sandal. You had made sure it was spotless and ironed before your big day today, so at least you had that going for you.

“Oh darling, you look a bit out of it, are you alright?” Your favorite barista and dear friend Ava, asked, her green eyes filled with concern.

“Av, you would not believe the hell of the morning I’ve had.” You groaned. “I woke up late today and I have that huge meeting I told you about and all of the things I had planned to keep me grounded and ready flew out the window.”

Ava let out a tsk sound and patted your hand. “Oh babe, in that case, coffee’s on me. Take a deep breath. You’ve been planning for this meeting for weeks and with that amount of work and dedication, you’re definitely going to knock’em dead.”

“Ave, you are the light of my life.” You said, already feeling lighter than you did when you first entered.

“Oh babe, I know.” She winked, brushing a stray purple bang out of her eye. “I want an update on everything afterwards, you’ve got my number! James will have your coffee ready for you at the other end. Good luck!”

“Thank you! I promise I will!” You grinned and made your way to the other end of the counter, where your coffee was waiting.

Knowing your order by heart, James had already started your latte the moment you walked in, you thanked whatever God listening that it was ready so fast. James gave you a shy smile and handed you the coffee. “Here you go.”

“Thanks James.” You gave him a kind smile and turned to leave. Glancing down at your watch, you realized you had ten minutes to get to your meeting, but luckily it was just up the block so you would get there right on time.

But like you said nothing is ever easy. You weren’t exactly paying attention as you walked out of the store, you were double checking your bag to make sure you had everything, so naturally you slammed into someone, causing coffee to get all over your blouse.

You let out a yelp, while a large hand came out to steady you. “I am so sorry! Are you alright?” A male voice asked.

“Well, aside from the fact that I have a meeting that could change my life in 5 minutes and now I look like a disheveled mess with coffee on her blouse, I’m fine.” You grumbled finally looking at the face of your accidental attacker. Your heart stopped for a moment.

He was stunning. Shoulder length curly brown hair, caramel eyes, and a TALL, fit body.

He was clearly flustered as your eyes met. His face had a gentle dusting of pink across it and his eyes could barely meet yours. “I really am sorry, I wasn’t paying attention- uh- here!” He began to shrug off his cardigan. “This should be able to cover up most of the stains.” He thrust the sweater towards you.

Now it was your turn to be flustered. “Oh no, really, I can figure something out-”

“You said this meeting is supposed to change your life right?” He interrupted before you could stutter out anymore excuses. You nodded. “While I don’t want to be the person that ruins your life. Just wear it to your meeting and uh, how about we meet back here tomorrow morning and you can just give it back to me then?” He blushed a deeper crimson, as a big smile grew across your face.

“I would love that, thank you so much.” You put on his cardigan and buttoned it up. He was right, almost all of the stains were covered. “How do I look? Professional?” You asked him.

“Beautiful- I mean yes, professional, you look great!” He smiled, pushing a shoulder length curl behind his ear.

You blushed, but quickly forced yourself to regain your composure. “So I’ll meet you here at 7 tomorrow-” You paused looking at him for his name.

“Dr. Reid, well, Spencer, call me Spencer.”

“Spencer.” You smiled. “I will see you tomorrow then.”

That was the first time you met Spencer Reid.

________________________________________________________________

The next morning, Spencer arrived 30 minutes early to the coffee shop to get a table, he felt fidgety and nervous. He hadn’t even caught your name yesterday before you left and he felt like an idiot. Of course he bumps into the most beautiful girl he has ever seen, spilt coffee all over her, AND forgot to ask her her name. Part of him was worried you wouldn’t even show up, it’s not exactly the best first meeting.

30 minutes later when you walked in, he thanked a God he didn’t even believe in. You looked less bewildered than you did yesterday, but no less beautiful.

You had chosen to go for a business casual look, your hair curled and flowing past your shoulders, a deep red blouse, black denim jeans, and black heeled boots. You had Spencer’s cardigan draped over your arm, you had made sure to wash it before giving back to him.

You searched around the patrons until your eyes met Spencer’s, your whole face lit up as you made your way over to him.

You had no idea that somebody else was watching you as you made your way over to him. You were too distracted by Spencer to feel the angry gaze that burned into your back.

“Hi.” You said shyly as you sat down.

“Hey.” Spencer said smiling at you.

“Were you waiting long?” You asked, a concerned look crossing your face.

“Oh no, not at all, I just came a few minutes early to get us a good seat.” Spencer lied, not wanting you to know how early he actually came.

“Well you choose right, this is the best seat in the house. It’s right by the counter where you pick up coffee, but it’s the perfect window seat to people watch.” You explained.

“Yeah, did you know coffee is actually a fruit?” Spencer asked you. “They’re actually the pit of a berry and grow on a bush.

You let out a giggle, “No, I had no idea that was even a thing. At least I can use that as an excuse when I get chastised for drinking too much. Where did you learn that?”

Spencer blushed. “I tend to pick up random knowledge here and there. Which reminds me, I never got your name yesterday before you ran off.”

“Well Dr. Spencer Reid, my name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” You grinned offering him a hand. “No fancy title, but I am doing my best for simply being a Miss.”

Spencer would usually avoid handshakes due to all the germs, however he wanted nothing more than to shake your hand, which was warm and soft.

“(Y/N).” He tested your name out on his tongue. You smiled.

“Have you gotten a coffee yet?” You asked him, getting up to head to order.

“I had one a bit earlier, but I could use another one.” Spencer answered, getting up to follow you.

As you approached the counter you tried to ignore the smug look Ava gave you, praying she wouldn’t say anything. She gave Spencer a not so subtle up and down look, checking him out and obviously finding him attractive. You gave Ava a stern look that told her not to say a word.

She just gave you a wink. Spencer had picked up on all of this, his profiler skills not missing a thing. A small smile crept across his face and he swallowed back a laugh.

You gestured for Spencer to go first, “I’m buying, to thank you for letting me borrow your sweater yesterday.”

Spencer looked at you in bewilderment. “No way! If anything I’m buying for destroying your coffee and spilling it all over your blouse before your ‘life changing’ meeting!”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Spencer, just order the damn coffee. I promise you it won’t break my bank. Especially after I got the design yesterday.” You grinned.

Ava let out a squeal. “You did not! Oh my god, I knew you could do it girl! All of your hard work paid off!”

Spencer’s face lit up. “Congratulations! I’m glad our collision didn’t ruin anything.”

You let out a laugh. “If anything I think your cardigan brought me good luck, I even got a couple compliments on it. I may just have to keep it.” You teased

Spencer’s heart warmed at the idea of you wearing his clothes. “Well if it brought you that much luck, maybe I’ll just let you keep it.”

A voice behind the two of you cleared their throat. “Are you guys going to order? Some of us have places to be.”

You glanced behind you at the woman, a small line had apparently grown behind you and Spencer. “Sorry about that. Ava I’ll just do my usual. Do not let Spencer pay.”

Ava raised her hands defensively. “I’m just here to make coffee love.”

“I’ll just do a large coffee with extra cream and a lot of sugar.” Spencer said.

You went to grab your wallet from your purse, but Spencer cut you off, cash already in hand.

“Spencer.” You whined and Spencer just shrugged.

As you made your way to the counter, you found it a bit strange that James had just left your coffees there. Usually he would at least wait a moment to say hi before taking off to make more orders, but you shrugged it off, they did have a line right now so he probably had to focus on getting the coffees out to customers.

Though the two of you only got to spend about an hour together, the two of you had immediately hit it off, completely unaware of the eyes that had been burning through you as they watched throughout what you and Spencer would later consider your first date.

_______________________________________________________________

From there it was a whirlwind of dates snuck between cases and your design jobs. After a little over a month Spencer had asked to officially call you his girlfriend and you had obviously accepted.

It was ridiculously cliche how quickly the both of you had fallen for each other, but you had just seemed to click right away. You loved Spencer’s logical mind that went on and on with random facts, he loved your creativity and energy. Your minds worked well together, helping each other out when the other got stuck.

As your relationship progressed, you found yourself spending more and more time at each other's apartments.

“Ava, he's just a dream. I’ve never felt like this with anyone ever.” You explained joyfully.

You had sat in your regular window seat, while Ava remained on the other side of the service counter. It was a bit slow in the shop today, so she had come over to get all the details on “your smokeshow boyfriend.” Since she was the manager of the shop and beloved by her boss, she could get away with it.

“Oh hon, if he has a brother, let me know.” She purred, sneaking a glance over her shoulder to check on James who was holding down the fort for her. The boy stood by the register, poor thing looking a bit bored.

James was a year younger than you and apparently starting grad school, but his shyness made him seem so much younger that you felt this slight protectiveness over him even if you only knew him from around the shop and stories from Ava.

His eyes met yours and you gave him a sympathetic smile. He blushed deeply and turned away, scampering to busy himself.

You looked back at Ava, giving a little nod towards James, “What about James? He seems sweet and he’s cute.” You waggled your eyebrows at her.

Ava snickered. “(Y/N/N), he is sweet, but way too shy, he can barely look me in the eye. I need someone who’s more of a dom if you know what I mean.” She smirked.

You pouted at her. “Poor James.”

Ava shrugged, “He’ll find his someone. Anyway you’re switching the topic, back to your dreamboat. You said he was an FBI agent? That’s heroic and sexy.”

You rolled your eyes at her. “Yes, he’s part of the Behavior Analysis Unit. They create profiles to help solve different criminal cases. It’s actually amazing. Spencer is giving a lecture about it at a college this Friday if you want to come with me.”

“I’ll come, but only if I get to officially meet your sexy doctor superhero boyfriend.” Ava smirked.

“Well obviously.” You smiled.

________________________________________________________________

The boy’s breathing was heavy as he struggled to control his anger. He watched the Doctor’s tall form strutting across the stage, his long brown hair swinging back and forth as he broke down profiling and the criminal cases he and his BAU team had solved.

From where he sat in the lecture hall he could watch the doctor while also keeping an eye on you. You were sitting near the front, your friend by your side. It was hard to miss her with her deep purple hair, that’s how he always found you. Though to him, you outshined everyone in the room. Even the ridiculous doctor.

He growled to himself as he observed your look of awe. He knew you two had made your relationship official. He knew almost every detail. Like how last weekend, the Doctor had come home early from a case and had surprised you with your favorite flowers: pink dahlias. You had spent the whole rest of the weekend together; you had brought him to your favorite Thai place, then went to both of your favorite bookstores. He knew everything.

He knew where you lived, your schedule, the design projects you were working on. He watched and he listened. He followed you home some days. Other days, he would simply wait outside your apartment building. He knew what window to watch if he wanted to catch a glimpse of you.

The worst days are when the Doctor would be with you. He would watch as you two joked around and kissed, it made him sick.

He didn’t like the Doctor. He hated hearing him ramble on to you. Fact after fact, never shutting up. But he understood him as he had researched him, found his accomplishments; he was a prodigal, graduating high school at the age of 12 and earned three PhDs. He worked for the FBI, catching criminals and profiling them. The Doctor constantly had something to prove, how could you be with a man so weak?

The Doctor was someone who could hardly befriend anyone besides his books, so how had the Doctor gotten you, when he had always been there? The Doctor did not deserve you, the Doctor could not give you what he could. Yet here you were, giving this man a ridiculous moon-eyed look that he did not deserve.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He got up and left.

He made his way down the hall towards an all-too familiar office, one that he practically lived in.

He was greeted by his usual cheery eyed professor, Professor Irving.

Never one to miss anything, Professor Irving raised an eyebrow. “You’re back early, how was the lecture?” Professor Irving asked. “Isn’t that Dr. Reid something else?”

“He’s alright. Someone worth looking into for sure. I left early to get ahead of these reports you wanted me to help grade, I do have a life outside of classes.”

Professor Irving smirked at him. “Son, I have known you too long, the only three places you go are classes, your job, and your apartment. I was hoping this lecture would show you how much the world has to offer, I mean look at Dr. Reid! He was one of the youngest to ever join the BAU-”

“ENOUGH about Dr. Reid!” He growled, interrupting his professor.

Professor Irving just stared at his student, shell-shocked.

The boy shook his head and rubbed his face. “I’m sorry professor, that was uncalled for, I have just been stressed lately.” The boy began picking up the papers he had to grade. He wanted to get through some of these as quick as possible, that way he could spend his weekend with you.

Professor Irving solemnly nodded. “I understand. I know you’ve been stressed lately, is that girl of yours acting up still?”

The boy sighed as he shrugged on his bag full of student’s reports. “Something like that. Listen, I know you said Dr. Reid is going to continue to come back and give lectures every few weeks or so. I will go to those ones and actually stay for them. Who knows? Maybe it will help me with my thesis paper. I just- I just can’t focus tonight, but I will do better. I promise.”

Professor Irving nodded. “Of course, let me know if there is anything I can do to help.”

The boy nodded then left the room.

________________________________________________________________

TAGLIST:

@andiebeaword @haylaansmi @parkastoria @possessedjoker @amronsparty @generaltheoristexpert @sierraraeck @coniumalces @tamedbyafox @anotherr-fine-mess @adoregin @rainsong01 @canyonnmoonn @mggshoe @boxofsparklingmuses @richardpapensmuse @deanlenaz @rainsong01 @goldentournesol @annesauriol @itsametaphorbriansblog @secretpickleprofessordean @shameleswhorehourstm @stepsofthefbi @iifloweringnightsii

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer x y/n #series #anightflower writes #anightflowerwrites

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myheelsdontmatchmysweatpants · 4 years

Text

This is my first collab fic and I could not be more excited! I'm so thankful that I can be part of the group!

The AU for this month was Sex Work. The Masterlist for this collab can be found here. Please take some time to check out everyone's contributions! There are other fics and amazing art!

That being said here is my fic, big BIG shout out to @doinmybesthere for being an amazing beta reader and sweet angel bb. ily Emme!

Please please please read the warnings. They are there for a reason!

Warnings: consensual noncon, mentions of being burnt, stabbing and blood; no prep penetration, disrespectful use of the word "whore", blackmail, psychological abuse?, Mineta (nuff said) he gets what's comin to him

You’re in the doctor’s office getting a regular checkup when you overhear the nurses in the station next to you talking.

“Look! They posted the new hero rankings today.”

“I forgot those were today, too bad they can’t have the conference during the pandemic. I miss seeing Deku all cute and blushing.”

“FUCK” In your brief moment of panic you forgot where you were. You cringe and look at the nurses, trying your best not to look like you were gonna be sick. “Sorry ladies, didn’t mean to yell.” No point in offering an explanation. You wouldn’t be able to tell them anything anyway.

As you very impatiently wait for your blood results to come back you check the tacky red cell phone you have to keep with you at all times. You had put it on silent since you were in the doctor’s office and you were glad you did. Taking a quick look at your screen had your stomach dropping into your ass.

M.M: Gonna move my appointment up to today.

M.M: You better get ready. I’m not happy.

M.M: I’m sure you saw the postings. Number 36.

M.M: I made sure to pay for any accidents in advance.

M.M: I’ll see you tonight.

Why does he have to be so fucking horrible? Accidents my ass.

The messages make your skin crawl, you should have figured the hero rankings would piss him off but honestly you never paid enough attention. With a heavy sigh you opened up your web browser and pull up the list.

“Number 36...number 36…. Number 36…” When you finally reached the hero you were looking for, you let out a sigh.

Hero Ranking Number 36: The Rainy Season Hero Froppy

Well at least you had her outfit already, for some reason she was one your client asked for a lot. Not that you wanted to ask him why, not with the way his black eyes looked whenever he saw you dressed up like her.

I don’t know if I should feel glad that he isn’t actually taking this out on her. Or upset that I’ve had to deal with this for months.

“L/N, Y/N?” The doctor walks up holding their clipboard and closing the privacy screen. Your file almost too much for the metal clip at the top. “Your test results came back negative and your burns seem to have healed very well. I would tell you that any strenuous activity should be avoided but we both know you can’t do that.”

Their poor attempt at humor had your stomach rolling. “Haha anyways Doc, I think I’m gonna need another medkit to take home today. I can schedule my next appointment online, right?”

You can’t handle the thinly veiled pity in their eyes and look down, reaching over to your side to grab your purse. You hear them moving around and a dark blue plastic box is put on your lap.

“If I remember correctly this is your favorite color, right? You are able schedule an appointment online but if you would like I can schedule it for you. How about in two days? Afternoon work for you?”

You look up after clutching the kit to your chest, you know they are just trying to be nice. All of the nurses are especially nice to you and as endearing as it might be to some people, to you it just feels dirty.

“Afternoon is perfect, thanks Doc.” You get up and walk towards the privacy screen. Before leaving you stop for a moment “Blue ismy favorite color.”

As you make your way back to your living quarters you scroll through the internet looking at every picture of the Pro-Hero Froppy you can find. Your quirk can project a person’s desires onto your body by reading them in their eyes. It’s easier when the person has a clear view of what or who they want. However, your client’s desires are such a jumbled mess that it’s easier if you know what it is beforehand.

Hopefully, I can act like her enough that I don’t have to look at his desires this time. I can’t stand how disgusting they make me feel.

You pass by a few familiar faces on your way back to your rooms but don’t pay them any mind. They in turn leave you alone, most of them knowing that when you have that look on your face you were in a mood.When you first were offered a position at the brothel you thought it would be easy money. You had been stripping for several years, known for how you looked different to everyone who saw your dancing. The beautiful, enchanting, flexible Erised. You had built up your quirks ability to be able to project almost a full clubs worth of desires. Sure, it caused extreme fatigue and chronic migraines but the money you raked in was well worth it.

A few months ago

After an especially successful night a patron walks up to you after you leave the stage.

“I have a job opportunity for you, courtesy of my employer.” He hands you a card you read “Heroes Consulting Agency” in bold silver letters.

“I’m a stripper hun, not sure I can do the type of consulting you’re looking for.” You go to hand it back, but they put their hand up.

“I’m afraid I must insist, why don’t we treat you to lunch and you can listen to our proposal?”

You put your hand back down and study them. They are dressed in a white button up with a vest, definitely out of place in a strip club. You would look in their eyes, but they didn’t really have any, their whole body seemed to be made of dark smoke. You don’t work in the nicest of places so someone with their kind of full body quirk isn’t unusual.

“Alright, I give. I’m not really one to pass up free food.” The rational side of your brain is telling you that you have more than enough money to buy your own food but the stingy part telling you to take it while you can is a little louder.

“Excellent choice Miss Erised. Someone will meet you at the address on that card tomorrow at around 5pm? Should give you enough time to recover from the side effects of your quirk.” They give a slight bow and walk off towards the exit, a large something getting up from a seat and following closely behind.

Sam, one of the waitresses walks up to you with a tray filled with drinks. Her normally short stature elevated with high heeled leather boots. “Did you know that person Y/N?”

Oh man, I do not have the energy for this.

You turn to her and survey the tray before grabbing something that looked like a fruity cocktail. “No, but they offered me a job. Gonna go have lunch with them tomorrow.” Sipping from the glass you tuck the card into your bra, making sure to not show it to the girl.

“That’s weird, don’t they know you’re a stripper? What is someone dressed that nicely want to hire you for? Also did that person look familiar to you or is that just me?” Any normal person wouldn’t be able to keep up with her unending questions, but you had known her for years. The tray in her hands tips dangerously to the left but she balances it out without a second thought.

Guess she does have to be quick on her toes to be a waitress at a strip club.

“They were here for my dance so yes they do know, either way I’m getting free food so…”

She huffs, aware of your attitude for anything “free”.

You finish the drink and place the empty glass back taking a couple bills from your bag and tucking them into her apron.

“Thanks for the drink Sam, but I gotta leave before my headache hits.” You walk off before she can say anything further. You really wanna be nice to her but her endless energy really gets on your nerves sometimes.

By the time you make it to your modest apartment, you can feel the pain starting behind your eyes. You drop your stuff by the door without turning on any lights and walk to the box safe hidden in the kitchen. After you make sure all the money is secure you grab a glass of water and head to the bedroom. The bottle of pain killers already set out on your nightstand. You should really take a shower but for now, you strip down, take a few pills, drink the whole glass of water, and lay down. It takes a while for the pills to kick in but once they do you finally fall asleep.

When you finally wake up the next morning your headache is gone, and you have to piss like no one’s business. You grumble as you stretch your tight sore muscles and get up to go to the bathroom. After taking care of business, you get into some light clothes and walk into the kitchen to make some food. Thankfully, you had some leftover rice and spam in the fridge, so you pop that in the microwave. You put the kettle on for some green tea and down another glass of water as it heats up.

Remembering the offer from yesterday and the promise of free food you pad over to your pile of things by the door and grab their card. It’s sleek looking with a plain black background and silver lettering. The address isn’t something you recognize right away so you look it up on your phone.

“What the fuck?” Why is this place in a business park?

You scroll down and check the street view; the building is a high rise surrounded by a mostly empty parking lot. The entrance of the building is blurred, probably to keep the privacy of anyone entering or exiting.

“Well, I guess it’s a nice gig. Better dress the part.” Or maybe you’re gonna get murdered.

“Wow, I really have to stop watching all those true crime shows.” You put the card in your wallet and head back to the kitchen. The microwave beeps and the kettle whistles shortly after. When you’re done eating you put the dishes in the sink to soak and head to the bathroom to finally take a shower.

By the time you have finished showering the whole bathroom is filled with steam and your body has a pink flush to it. You open the door to air it out and finish cleaning up for the day. Your outfit consists of your nicest jeans with ankle boots, a long sleeve blouse and a dark cardigan. You grab one of your smaller over the shoulder purses and leave your apartment.

One of the things you allowed yourself to really splurge on was a car. Public transportation was not as reliable as it could be and with your hours not the safest either.

By the time you make it to the building the sun is starting to set, giving the sky beautiful pink to blue coloring. As you park and get out of your car a young woman walks up to you.

“Welcome Miss Erised! Please follow me and I will escort you through the building.” The woman’s blonde hair is in two messy buns, her face childlike. Her voice was high pitched enough to grate on your nerves a bit, but you ignored it.

As you follow the person through the lobby you take a glance around. Looks like a high-end hotel lobby. There is a front desk area with a marble counter top, women that are dressed in matching button ups with their hair up in buns or ponytails. Random potted plants and small trees dot the area, and a nice chandelier hangs in the middle of the ceiling. No one besides the women at the front desk are in the area.

“Doesn’t seem to be busy right now.” You didn’t even really mean for her to hear you, but she did, and you sounded like an asshole.

They turn their head slightly with a knowing smirk. “It would seem that way wouldn’t it?”

Conversation halts while you stand in the elevator which you were thankful for. They had chosen a floor close to the middle of the building, which gave you just enough time to rethink your life choices.

By the time you got to your floor you are tired of the silence. Normally you hate small talk, but you figured you would give it a shot. “Do you like your job?”

The woman turns to you and smiles, here canines peeking out a bit while shrugging her shoulders. “It keeps me busy, plus I get to make so many friends.” The gleam in her eyes flashes menacingly for a quick second, you decide to pretend you didn’t see it.

As you get to the end of the hall, she opens a door and gestures you inside, closing it behind you. There is a nice desk to the left of the door, other than that the room is sparce. The person sitting in the chair has quite an eclectic look about him. Grey hair parted to the side, shrew eyes behind circular wire rimmed glasses, a gold chain peeks out from the slightly open white button up with a purple blazer. He reeks of cigarette smoke the evidence of his habit tossed into the half-filled ash tray on the desk.

“So nice of you to join me Miss Y/N. Why don’t you have a seat, we can talk about your new position.” He gestures to the only other chair a smirk on his face that shows of his missing tooth.

“I haven’t accepted the job yet Giran, and I thought I told you I don’t want to work for you.” You aren’t used to seeing him in this type of place. But you do know him so there is no need to put on a show. You lean back in the chair and cross your arms.

“How rude of me, you won’t be working for me, but I have been given authority to hire for this company.”

You don’t bat an eye; most large companies use outside help for hiring. “What is this position you would like offer me?”

“This company provides heroes with a way to alleviate their… desires in a safe and discrete way.”

“So, you hire prostitutes for heroes to have sex without worrying about anyone telling the press about it.”

“That is correct.”

“I don’t know if your just stupid or if you forgot but I’m a stripper not a hooker.” You sit up in your chair fully ready to leave the room.

“They would provide you with a fully furnished apartment, medical coverage with 24/7 access to their fully trained medical staff. Any cash given to you by your clients you can keep, however they would take a percentage out of the money they initially pay for your services.”

“Let’s say I’m a little interested, how much is the initial pay for my services?” You want to deny the offer, nothing wrong with having sex for money but it isn’t really your thing.

Giran doesn’t answer right away, instead putting out what is left of his cigarette only to pull another one out of his blazer and lighting it up. “The starting hourly rate is $2,500 an hour, they would take 30 percent from that.”

Holy shit, that’s as much as I make in a day and I would be making it an hour? You keep your face neutral but something in your eyes must have tipped him off.

“You would start tomorrow; most clients keep a contract with their favorite employee and we actually have someone lined up for you already. He has extremely specific tastes and you are the perfect person to fill in.”

“I’ll have to talk to the club owner; would it be possible to start later?” You don’t want to seem to eager, especially not in front of him.

“I don’t see that as a problem, they can give you one week but that’s it.”

You stay silent, making it look like you’re thinking about it. After a moment you lean forward in your chair and stick your hand out. “Sounds like a deal to me.”

Giran grabs you hand and gives it a firm shake. “If you ever need help or have any questions call the number on the card. Now I believe you were offered dinner, let me take you to one of my favorite places.”

You let his hand go and rise from the chair. As Giran comes around the desk and walks towards the door, he stops for a moment and turns to you. “Welcome to the team.”

Dinner was actually genuinely nice; the food was good, and you were able to have a comfortable conversation with Giran. Of course, he didn’t tell you anything about himself, but you had no problems with that, you didn’t wanna share anything to personal about yourself either. He dropped you back off at your car after dinner and shook your hand again before driving off.

By the time you got home you had decided what you were gonna tell the club owner and mentally packed your apartment. Not wanting to take all of your things you moved most of it to a secure storage facility. Having had it for a few years already in order to store the overabundance of clothes you owned.

After the week was up you had quit your job and packed all of your belongings. You realize you don’t know where you are supposed to go so you pull out the card and call the number.

“Hello, how can I assist you?”

“Giran never told me where I would be moving my stuff to. Could you give me the address?” You pick at your nails while waiting for him to answer.

“Of course, Miss Erised. Will you be needing any assistance for your move?”

He sounds so polite; I wonder if he is always like this.

“No, I’ll be fine on my own thank you.”

He gives you the address and let you know that you can call if you need any additional information.

“Good luck Miss Erised.”

When you get back to your apartment you immediately go into the shower and wash up, using the tea tree oil that Froppy had said she uses in an interview.

I don’t understand how people can like this stuff, but he gets easier to handle if I smell like those women.

When you are done you towel dry your hair and make sure to lotion your whole body. When your hair is dry enough you straighten it and leave it down. He likes it better when its down.

You go to your closet and rifle through until finding the very skimpy version of Froppys hero costume. All it really has in common with the original is the tan harness and the green with black and yellow stripes. Otherwise, it is a one-piece bikini without a crotch. You grab your black leather over the knee boots and get dressed. After checking the time, you give yourself a moment to mentally prepare.

I hate this, I hate him. Disgusting filthy little bug. A false hero, a plague. I can’t wait to leave this place.

Standing in the middle of your room you close your eyes and take deep breaths, allowing your consciousness to drift. You have found that the best way to endure these sessions is to detach yourself from the situation. Only focusing on the absolute necessary and maintaining the effects of your quirk. Giving yourself another minute to get into character you walk to the door joining your apartment to the “service room”.

Thankfully, he hasn’t shown up yet, you shut the door hearing the lock click into place, the door seamlessly vanishing into the wall. Sitting on the edge of the bed you face the door that Mineta will walk through and wait.

No matter how many times we do this I never lose the feeling of wanting to vomit while bathing in bleach.

When he walks in you see that he is wearing his hero costume, as atrocious as it is. He never really deviated from the original design. You immediately start your performance.

“Mineta? What am I doing here? kero” You clasp your hands together in front of your chest and look around frightfully.

“Hello Tsu, what a pleasant surprise to see you here.” He walks up, taking off his gloves and throwing them to the side.

“I don’t understand, do you know where- “Your sentence is cut off, pain in your cheek sharp and hot.

“I don’t believe I gave you permission to talk Miss thirty sixth hero.” He stands there with his hand still up as you cup your cheek and look up at him, the tears in your eyes real. He pulls his hand back again as if to slap you and you flinch.

“Good girl, now finish taking off my outfit for me.” Mineta walks back a few steps and holds his arms out. Your fingers are clumsy as you take it of piece by piece.

Mineta abruptly grabs a fist full of your hair and yanks your head back. You grab his hand with both of yours trying to ease his grip.

“Do you think if you do it slow enough, I’ll get bored and go away?” He pulls harder. “Huh? You really think you’re gonna get out of this don’t you.” He tosses you towards the bed and you scramble to get back on your feet.

The tears in your eyes have started to spill over and you start babbling. “Please let me go Mineta, I don’t know what I did but please pleasejust forgive me kero. I won’t tell anyone about this just please don’t hurt me kero.”

He doesn’t answer you, just finishes taking off his outfit before he is walking towards you again, a vicious gleam in his beady eyes.

You back up until the back of your legs hits the bed. You open your mouth to speak but before you can utter a single word, he slaps you again.

“I told you not to speak unless I told you to once already. Now I’m gonna have to punish you, aren’t I?” He shoves you onto the bed and follows, using his knees to push your legs open he sits up and gives himself a few pumps.” No need to prep you, I want this to hurt.”

You are sobbing at this point, your hands covering your face when you feel him push into you. A scream rips out of your throat and you reach forward to push him away.

“You know Tsu, these meetups have been the best. I’m thinking next time I will find the REAL you and have even more fun.” He closes his eyes a leans his head back, fully immersed in only getting himself off.

To engrossed in his own world, he doesn’t realize that you have gone still. Your tears have stopped, and you have pulled your hands back from him.

DISGUSTING

“Find the real me?”

VILE

You break character, bringing your full consciousness back. You voice is just a whisper at first, so he doesn’t hear you, doesn’t stop thrusting.

FALSE HERO

“Find the REAL me?!” You are screaming at him now.

He finally stops, hearing you the second time. For a second you see fear in his eyes before they fill with rage.

MONSTER

“Hey! You better start doing the job I paid you for, I don’t come here for you to question me.” He lifts his hand up, as if to slap you again. Before his hand comes down you grab it, squeezing until he yelps in pain.

This job is over, he isn’t worth keeping around anymore.

“You think I give a shit about a little piss ant like you?!” As you sit up, he yanks his arm away and pulls out of you. Stumbling back, he starts shaking a finger in your direction.

“You can’t talk to me like that! You’re just a whore!”

You dart forward before he can put more distance between you and grab him by the neck. As you pick him up you snarl and let your quirk fade away.

“I may be a whore but I not a monster like you. You are just a fake hero, a plague on this world and I will get rid of every single one of you.” You throw him onto the ground still holding on to his neck and squeeze.

“In other news, Minoru Mineta also known as the pro hero Grape Juice has gone missing after several videos of him have gone viral. He was last seen leaving a brothel that has requested to remain nameless. The videos contain triggering scenes of the pro hero having relations with a prostitute while she is dressed in various hero suits the resemble his old female classmates. He even refers to them by name. The videos contain triggering images, and it is recommended to not seek them out. The original videos have since been taken down but are reuploaded onto the internet on several other sites. The prostitute shown in the videos has also gone missing. Any information on the whereabouts- “

The T.V. turns off, the voice of the news anchor no longer filling the dimly lit bar. The people present remain silent for a moment before a man with burns all over his body starts to laugh.

“You could have really fucked that up Doll. Good thing we got enough evidence.” You sneer at him, making sure you change your appearance to match your own desire. He flinches when he sees his own face.

“I wish you had cut him! There wasn’t enough blood to keep his appearance up for awfully long!” The young woman with two messy blond buns in her hair twirls a knife around.

“I’m terribly sorry Toga, but I didn’t have anything sharp with me.” You pick at your nails and look over at Kurogiri, who is busy pouring a glass of whiskey for Dabi. “Do I get a break after this one or do you and boss man have another gig for me?”

#lillith masterlist #lillith writes #lilliths writing

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travellingarmy · 3 years

Text

║Zhongli║In Return

Requested from Wattpad.

Gender-neutral.

Word count: 1.2k

---

Zhongli is indeed wealthy in terms of knowledge, having noticeably a much greater understanding than any scholar of any field. But when it came to mora? Count him out. He was not the best at managing his mora and still isn't now, so that is why you were there to step in every time he is in dire need of money.

"Mr. Zhongli, you can't go around Liyue saying that you will buy everything that the store has when you know that you don't carry a wallet," you say depressingly, handing a pouch full of mora to the person behind the counter. This fact, however, did not phase the man himself, staring blankly at you, a hand on his mouth as he observes.

You took the bag of the things that Zhongli wanted to buy and walked out of the store, dragging him along. "Here." You turned around to face the male and outstretched your arm with the bag. "Do you.. Have anywhere else that you want to check out?" you ask, not wanting to leave him without mora to pay for anything. You were lucky-- wait, no, he should feel lucky that you were around and to peek curiously inside the store he was at so that you could pay for his things. "Hm, I do have one more place to go," he says.

You nodded. "Alright, we'll go to that place, but promise me that you won't go shopping for today," you say, to which he agrees. You were busy today so you couldn't go shopping with him, but you can't just leave him alone. Sometimes, you wonder how such a composed man that basically has all the knowledge of Teyvat, not even have a single mora on him.

After ensuring that Zhongli was safe to be alone, you bid farewell and did your own things to be completed.

"Make sure you come to work on time!" Hu Tao warns with a smile, bidding you bye. She may be an irritating person to deal with that loves to pull pranks, but as the master of the Wangshen Funeral Parlour, she could take some matters such as time seriously. You nod your head and returned a wave to your boss before going off to shop for dinner.

The night life of the city was much more crowded than that of day-- probably because the darken sky can hide many secret encounters-- be it for civil citizens or crooks lurking in alleyways to trade wanted items for their benefit. You couldn't care less of what they do-- you just wanted to buy food and go home.

A familiar whiff of food made its way to your nostrils and made your stomach growl, deciding that it wanted to eat that specific food. You jerk your head to find the place that sells it, which you found in mere seconds upon your hunger and trotted over immediately. "Woah! They are selling these again!" you exclaim happily, eyes reflecting stars as you slightly drool.

Wiping the drool off with the back of your hand, you reached for your pouch money, but when you opened it, it was completely empty! "Eh!? I swore I had mora in here. I'm sure I didn't even spend--" Your words were cut short, remembering that you had used up your paycheck yesterday to help Zhongli. You sulked, knowing that you'll have to go hungry till your next paycheck.

"Maybe I can ask Hu Tao for extra money?" you ask yourself, feeling sad tears welling up in your eyes. About to come to the conclusion and go home, a voice spoke up from behind. "(Y/N), what are you doing here so late at night?"

Turning to look over your shoulders and craning your head up a bit, you were met with amber eyes that seemed to glow brighter than the lights in the city.

"Mr. Zhongli, what are you doing here?" you ask, full of surprise that a man such as himself would be caught loitering around food vendors such as the one you were at. "I.. Went for a nightly stroll, is all," he answers. "May I ask about you as well?"

"Uh, well.. I was going to buy dinner, but I used up all my mora, so I'm going to go home.." you answered honestly, though a bit embarrassed saying it out loud, especially to the man you like. "Oh, is that so? Well, if that is the case, I will pay for you," he says and looks towards the person who ran the food stall. "Excuse me, I'd like to buy a dozen of these." He points at the food you were just drooling about not too long ago. The person nods smilingly and took out a bag to place the right amount of demand inside.

"M- Mr. Zhongli, aren't you forgetting your wallet?" you ask, swear dropping frivolously. You coming there and not having mora was embarrassing enough and will be more embarrassing with Zhongli, knowing that he most likely forgot his wallet at home. He eyes you, a small smile tugging his charming face as he places a hand on your head before taking out what seems to be his wallet. "Here you are, boss," he says, handing a pouch full of money, not even asking for the price or counting the money. "U, uh, sir, this is quite a lot." And indeed it was. "It is fine. You may keep the extra," he states. The vendor thanked Zhongli and even put in a couple extra of the food ordered with no added charge.

Once far from the stall, Zhongli hands you the bag. "U, uhm, I'm surprised that you brought your wallet.. But I'll pay you back, I promise!" you say determinedly. Zhongli smiles and shook his head. "There is no need to. As I had said, I need not such materialistic thing," Zhongli states. He loves to repeat those words and it was kind of funny that even when saying it so many times, you didn't think of it.

"Then is there anything I can do to make it even?" you ask. "You have already paid for my things more times than I could ever hope to repay you," he says softly. But even when he says that, it didn't sit right with you. You have been helping him because you liked him and wanting nothing more than to care for him, but he is probably doing it to repay your kindness.

Noticing your expression and guessing your thoughts, Zhongli added, "You can, however, pay it by joining me for dinner." Upon hearing it, your eyes lit up as you stare at the man with a surprised face. "I confess, I have found a liking to you, (Y/N). I a unsure of any other method to court you other than to take you out," Zhongli says, full of confidence that it even reflects his eyes.

"I.. I would love that!" You smiled. Who knew that a man like him would be found courting for an average local such as yourself. "I am pleased to hear that." Zhongli returns your smile with a smile of his own and walked you to a restaurant that he had been planning take you to for a long while.

---

#Zhongli #zhongli x reader #genshin zhongli #zhongli imagines #x reader #genshin childe #gender neutral #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact oneshots #lumine #scaramouche #diluc ragnvindr

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charincharge · 4 years

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Cruel Summer, Epilogue

cruel summer masterlist

AN: I swore to you I would have this posted before I moved, and I DID (I leave in 11 hours for my cross country drive). Sorry this took forever, I pretty much wrote... a 10k word sequel.

It seems that fate enjoys playing cosmic jokes on Rowan Whitethorn when it comes to the first day of summer.

He and Aelin were supposed to take off for Terrasen yesterday, in order to make it to opening day at the park. Then, after closing, he was going to take Aelin down to the water, beneath the docks, where they’d kissed for the first time. It was going to be perfect. Just the two of them, reunited by the water, watching the sun dip below the horizon, ready for a new summer of memories – this time to be made together. But today was a piece of shit, and everything had gone to shambles. With the app formally launching this week, Rowan’s office was in crunch mode. He tried to escape, but was held back with last minute bugs to fix. He sent Aelin off, telling her he’d meet her there as soon as he was freed from work. But before he knew it, yesterday turned into noon today. And somehow noon turned into five. And then to six. At seven, Rowan finally put his foot down and insisted he would answer any questions from the road. He’d be working remotely all summer anyway. He’d dictate code for them over the phone, if they needed. And they had. His front dash rings with an incoming call from Aelin as he speeds along the interstate, praying to the gods he doesn’t get pulled over. Although with the way his day is going, he wouldn’t be surprised. He sighs loudly in greeting.

“That bad, huh?” Aelin’s sleepy voice comes through the speakers. It’s already midnight, and he’s sure she’s about to fall asleep any second.

“I’ve had about six calls with Darrow,” Rowan sighs. He doesn’t really mind – he loves his job, and loves being part of this team. But, his boss’s perfectionist tendencies have him working long after the clock stops. “I’m so tired,” he complains. “Oh no,” Aelin coddles him. “How far away are you?” Rowan glances at his navigation. “Three hours out. If I don’t hit any more snags.” Aelin chuckles softly. “Yeah, you didn’t forget anything else important, did you?” Rowan groans, thinking of his absolute incompetence as a human. Maybe if he’d been less flustered about rushing out of work and heading to Terrasen, he wouldn’t have made this insane mistake. Nearly an hour on the road, Rowan realized he’d forgotten the most important item he needed this summer. Unconsciously, Rowan pats at his pants and finds the lump in his pocket easily. He swallows thickly. His entire plan would have been ruined without that tiny box. Unable to tell her what he really went back for, he lied and told Aelin he’d forgotten his wallet. She seemed to believe him, but he was now running two hours behind. He picks up his pace even more. “I miss you,” he sighs, and he can hear the crinkling of Aelin’s starchy sheets beneath her head as she rolls to her side. “You’ll have me soon enough,” she laughs. “I wish I could have you right now,” he whines, and he can hear the small hitch in Aelin’s breath before she replies. “Oh yeah? And what would you do to me?” Her voice is low and breathy, and he can’t help but groan her name in frustration. He’s been working his ass off prepping for this app launch. And with Aelin taking classes and studying for boards on top of teaching, they’ve both been far too tired to do anything but curl up in bed and sleep. Two exhausted ships passing in the night. Two exhausted, and clearly horny, ships. Rowan swears as arousal courses through his strained muscles. “Should I pull over?” he asks.

If Aelin wants help getting off through the phone, he’s not not participating. Rowan looks ahead to see when the next exit is. He’ll need to find somewhere dark and secluded fast. But Aelin hesitates, and he can practically see her flushed cheeks and wild eyes as she chews on her bottom lip as she debates her answer. “No,” she finally replies, resigned. “Just. Drive fast.” Rowan taps the accelerator a little harder, pushing his new car another few miles above the speed limit. “On it.” “Rowan?” She breathes softly into the receiver. “I don’t care how late it is, wake me up when you get here.” “Yes ma’am,” he laughs. “Love you,” she mumbles sleepily. Rowan blessedly doesn’t get pulled over, and somehow he makes up an entire hour, pulling up the long driveway to Ashryver Estate just after 2am. He turns the headlights off quickly, hoping he didn’t wake anyone. The house looks as imposing as always, its wide balconies and oversized windows glowing under the outdoor lights. But Rowan can’t help but think how different his life is from a single year ago. For one, he and Aelin will be sleeping in her room together, with the complete awareness and approval of her parents. Rowan assumed it would be weird for them to be in the house, so they rented a place of their own, but Rhoe and Evalin insisted they spend at least their first night with them. At least. He supposes when he’s been living with their daughter since last Yulemas and asked for her father’s approval of their marriage a few days later, it can’t be that weird. But still, Rowan’s excited to have their own place. Albeit. A much smaller. Less expensive place.

A large yawn rips its way from Rowan’s mouth, and he decides to leave his bag in the bag seat. He’ll get it in the morning. For now, he just wants to take off his work clothes and get into bed with Aelin.

But of course, nothing about today is easy. Rowan lifts the front mat, expecting the key beneath, but it’s missing. He checks his phone to see if Aelin told him they moved it elsewhere. But no. It’s supposed to be there for him. He reaches under a potted plant just to make sure. But still. No key. He jiggles the doorknob, hoping against all hopes that in this small beach town maybe they left the door unlocked for him. But it remains unmovable. Shit. The gods truly are against him. Rowan flicks his cellphone light on, searching the small path that leads to the backyard. Thorns from the overgrown rose bushes scrape his arms, and he hisses as one catches his skin. Fuck this day. Once he makes it safely to the back patio, he attempts the sliding door, but of course, it is locked, too. Rowan glances at the rose trellis, leading up to the second floor balcony he knows so well. It’s been a while since he climbed it, but he thinks he can. He grasps at the holds above his head and pulls himself up, one foothold at a time. As he launches himself over the railing and onto the balcony, he prays to every god he knows that Aelin has left her window unlocked. It doesn’t budge.

Crouched uncomfortably, Rowan lifts his tender knuckles and knocks against the glass of the large window. He watches as Fleetfoot lifts her head, wondering where the knocking is coming from. She spots Rowan and thumps her tail against Aelin’s fluffy comforter, but doesn’t bark or come to greet him. She’s not exactly the best guard dog.

Rowan knocks again, this time a little louder, and he watches as Aelin sleepily rouses from her slumber. He knocks a third time, and Aelin looks around, confused, obviously thinking that he’d woken her from inside the room. He waves from his crouch as she finally locates him on the other side of the glass.

She pads barefoot across the room and unlatches the window, which finally swings open easily.

“Feeling nostalgic?” she asks, her eyes squinting with unreleased laughter.

“Ha ha.” Aelin is the only one laughing as she helps Rowan through the window, but he can’t help but smile at the way her arms circle his waist and pull him towards the bed at the center of the room. “Where’d the front door key go?”

“Oh no, I forgot to put it back? I must have been more tired than I thought…”

He nods, and her arms squeeze his waist tighter, apologizing with her touch. A shiver runs up Rowan’s spine as her warm hands push the hem of his shirt up his back.

“If you’re too tired,” Rowan begins, but his words are muffled by Aelin tugging his shirt up and over his head. “This can wait until tomorrow…” Her fingers splay across his bare chest, and her lips brush against his shoulder, her eyes dark with want as she insists.

“We’ll sleep in tomorrow,” she insists, tilting her chin up towards his.

Rowan lowers his head to hers, and she hums happily as his mouth caresses hers. He doesn’t have to be asked twice. He lets Aelin lead the way, crawling onto the bed on top of her. Aelin’s hands immediately go for his belt buckle, and he helps her, kicking off his pants one leg at a time as he pushes her nightgown over her head.

Clothes scatter across Aelin’s bedroom floor as the pair climb under the covers. Fleetfoot dodges his flying briefs with a loud huff and slinks under the bed, causing both Aelin and Rowan to laugh. But they aren’t distracted by the dog’s antics for very long. Within seconds, the pair is wrapped up in each other, finally after so long, relishing in the feel of being skin to skin. Rowan’s hands skim up her thighs, and he kisses every inch of her neck and shoulders he can reach. He has every intention of taking his time and worshipping her body, something they haven’t had the privilege of doing in weeks, but Aelin has other thoughts in mind.

She guides his hand between her legs, showing him how much she wants him, moisture dripping onto his fingers before he’s barely even touched her.

“Please, Rowan,” she moans, and Rowan chuckles into her cheek, whispering into her ear with a quiet. “Bossy.”

“You like it,” she says, smirking softly.

He does. He loves when she takes charge. But he doesn’t let it happen for very long. Before she can finish her sentence, Rowan lines himself up with her and slides into her with a deep thrust.

Aelin gasps and wraps her legs around him, digging her heels into his ass as he sits back on his heels and grasps her hips. He’s overwhelmed, as he always is when he first enters Aelin. Warmth spreads through his body as he adjusts their position and pace, lifting her hips off the mattress to meet him as he kneels in front of her. He loves her this way, splayed out for him, her hair a tangled, golden mess haloed around her head. She breathes heavily with each torturously slow movement of his hips. She bites down on her lip, but releases a too loud, breathy moan regardless.

Rowan shushes her through his chuckles, loving that even after a year, this hasn’t remotely gotten old.

“C’mere.” She reaches out for him, and Rowan is helpless before her commands. He lowers her hips and leans down to kiss her. Fingers tug at his hair, keeping him pressed against her face. Even when their kiss breaks, they’re content to just breathe into each other’s mouths as he moves inside her slowly and deliberately, savoring each moment.

Rowan increases his pace, feeling them both on the brink, Aelin’s nails digging into his back, his lips at her neck – when the doorbell rings.

They both freeze. Rowan stills his hips, and Aelin’s gaze swings to the door.

“Was that our house?” she asks, eyes wide. The doorbell is followed by several knocks.

“Uh, I think so,” Rowan says, glancing at the clock, which now reads 3 am. Who the hell could that be? Fleetfoot pokes her nose out from under the bed and slinks towards the door to sniff under it.

“Do you think if we stay quiet they’ll go away?” Aelin whimpers, grasping his neck tighter. “I’m so close,” she half cries-half laughs. Rowan joins her.

“Me too,” he says, letting his head drop onto her shoulder.

“Just finish quickly,” she says, tilting her hips toward his, and Rowan chuckles into her skin.

Rowan refuses to move as he hears two pairs of footsteps coming down from the third floor. Aelin’s parents.

They listen as the front door opens, but are unable to pick out any words. The door closes just as fast, and he can feel Aelin relax and push her hips against his as her parents make their way back upstairs. He finally gives in and starts moving again, much to both their relief.

The relief is short-lived, though.

“Um, Aelin?” Evalin calls from the other side of the door, accompanied with a quick knock, and Rowan has the good sense to roll off to the other side of the bed, grumbling the entire way, upset to be cockblocked as Aelin tosses on her nightgown. Whatever was happening is officially over now. Rowan briefly wonders if it’s a cursed day as Aelin swings her door open.

“Is everything okay?” she asks her mom breathlessly, and Rowan tucks himself further under the blanket, willing his still prominent erection to subside quickly.

Suddenly, two cops emerge, and Aelin crosses her arms over her chest, backing up into the darkness of her room. Rowan would like to throw a robe over her, too, by the way the two cops are looking at her, but he can’t exactly go anywhere right now.

“Sorry to disturb you, ma’am,” the shorter of the two begins. “But we were notified by your neighbor of a breaking and entering? We wanted your permission to sweep your room for any intruders.”

Rowan groans loudly and lets his head fall back against the pillow as Aelin snorts.

“I’m so sorry to waste your time, officers,” Aelin says politely. “But, uh, there’s been a huge misunderstanding.”

Her eyes flick to Rowan’s, who is still under the covers, but based on the state of the pair of them, there’s little question as to what they’ve been up to.

“Let me guess?” the other cop snickers. “Intruder?”

Rowan waves, and Rhoe and Evalin smile as they wave back.

“Rowan, when did you get in?” Rhoe asks, failing to hide his smile behind his hand.

But Rowan’s fairly certain this day could not get any worse. He’s still erect beneath the covers, and completely naked, and his nearly naked girlfriend is being interrogated by the cops and her parents. He wants to die.

“I forgot to leave the key out for my boyfriend,” Aelin explains. “So, he climbed up the trellis into my room.”

The cops apologize for the late-night intrusion, and Rhoe finally laughs fully. “As you were…”

They close the door with a soft click, and Rowan groans, falling back onto the pillow as Rhoe and Evalin head back upstairs, taking Fleetfoot with them.

“Intruder,” Aelin laughs as she closes her bedroom door. “The Cortlands would never have called the cops.”

Rowan perks up at that. “Oh yeah, who’d they sell to?”

“I don’t kno-oww!” Aelin hisses in pain and clutches at her foot. “Ow, what the hell did I just step on?” she cries again, stumbling her way over to the light switch. “Was that your belt buckle? Shit, that hurt.”

Rowan squints as the bright bulb illuminates the room, and his heart stops as he sees what Aelin holds in her hand. Aelin stares with wonder at the tiny box that he’s managed to keep from her since he purchased it last December. Six months living together, and she never suspected once. In his haste to disrobe earlier, it must have fallen out of his pocket. He forgot it was even in there. He’s a fucking idiot.

Aelin’s jaw drops as she looks from the box up to Rowan, her blue gold eyes swimming with awe and confusion.

“Rowan?”

Her voice sounds so small and timid and so un-Aelin like, and Rowan’s stomach drops. Does she not want this?

“I swear to the gods, it was going to be perfect,” Rowan says, scrubbing at his face with his hand. He watches as Aelin’s eyes grow impossibly wider. He closes his eyes and imagines the scene he’d wanted so badly. ”I had it all planned out for today. But, then today happened.” He He sighs loudly.” Six months of waiting… to find your ring on the fucking floor.”

He hates the spike of insecurity and flagellation that fills his brain, ready to convince him he’s useless. He’s gotten better about his negative self-talk over the last year, but sometimes old habits are hard to break.

“Six months?” she asks, fiddling with the box in her fingers.

“Yulemas shopping,” Rowan chuckles to himself, but there’s no humor to be found there.

“Rowan.” She repeats his name, nothing more than a whisper from the other side of the room.

“I used to feel like the lesser party in this relationship. And I swear, I don’t feel like that anymore. But, the way this has happened, I’m feeling pretty useless. That, or this proposal is cursed.”

“Can I see it?” she whispers, and Rowan suddenly feels even more nervous, if that were even possible.

He nods, feeling the strain in his throat as it bobs uncomfortably, his throat suddenly dry.

She cracks the box open, and Aelin breathes in sharply as she picks up the emerald, flanked by two smaller diamonds, and laid into a platinum band. It had cost two full months of his paycheck, but he’d seen it and immediately known it was meant to sit on Aelin’s finger for the rest of her life.

She approaches the bed slowly, and his body warms as her awed expression turns into a brilliant smile. He loves when she looks at him like that. Like he’s special. She straddles his lap, bringing one knee to either side of his waist and wraps one arm around his neck, the other cradling the box in her hand still.

Her lips press against this over and over again as she whispers between kisses, “Yes, yes, yes, yes.”

Rowan’s heart pumping wildly as he pulls back to look at her.

“Yeah?” he asks, and she replies quickly.

“Oh yeah.” She grins and kisses him again. “And if you want to do your plan tomorrow, I am all yours,” she says, and Rowan’s heart feels like it’s going to explode of joy.

He slides the ring onto her finger. It looks just as perfect there as he’d imagined, and he can’t resist perssing the newly jeweled hand against his thrumming heartbeat.

“I’ll give it back in the morning,” she says, a small tear trickling down her cheek.

She can’t stop smiling, and neither can Rowan, both of them mumbling “I love you,” over and over as Aelin climbs into his lap to finish what they started earlier in the evening.

~*~

Rowan wakes before Aelin, which is highly unusual, but she did say she was tired. He glances at the glittering gems on her finger and kisses it softly. He can’t believe this beautiful creature is actually going to marry him.

“Mmm,” she smiles back in her sleep, and he can’t resist pressing his lips against hers.

As he distracts her with sleepy kisses, he slides the ring off her finger, and she pouts immediately. “I’ll give it back soon, I promise,” he says softly, and her smile returns. The ring finds its way back into the small velvet box without any problems, and Rowan pulls on clothes from the floor and pockets it immediately. “Coffee?” he whispers into her ear, and Aelin nods, eyes still closed.

Rowan heads downstairs and grabs his bag from his car, and decides to shower before bringing Aelin coffee. After working all day, then sitting in a car for nine hours, and then engaging in sexual activity for most of the night, he could really use a shower. Plus, maybe he can tempt Aelin into joining him, he thinks.

Upstairs, though, Aelin is already in the bathroom and looking worse for wear. Dark circles rim her undereye, and her cheeks looks pale and sweaty. She flushes the toilet and walks slowly to the sink to rinse out her mouth.

Rowan drops his bag from his shoulder and rushes to her. “Aelin? Are you okay?”

She shakes her head and shrugs. “I think you might be right about the cursed proposal. I’m so sorry,” she apologizes, splashing water onto her ashen face. “A few of my students had this stomach thing, and I thought I escaped it, but…”

She stops and breathe slowly through her nose and out through her mouth. Her eyes flick to Rowan’s in the mirror, looking disappointed and upset.

“Hey, hey,” he reassures her, pushing back her damp hair from her clammy forehead. “You never have to apologize for getting sick.”

Aelin had also caught the flu from one of her students in January, a terrible cold in March, and strep throat that turned into an ear infection in April. Rowan was extremely grateful she’d already gotten the chicken pox otherwise their May would have been really upsetting. It turns out Aelin’s immune system kind of sucks.

“Good thing is it’s only a twenty-four-hour bug, so we can just push until tomorrow?” she says hopefully.

Rowan kisses the top of her head. “Get back in bed. We’ll worry about that when you’re feeling better.”

Aelin grumbles all the way back to bed, but she must be feeling extremely sick if she followed his directions so quickly. Aelin is one of those suffer in silence such people, who likes to think that if she doesn’t acknowledge not feeling well then she won’t be sick. As if she ignores her problems they’ll cease to exist. Rowan has to admit, when he discovered that he was fairly relieved. He’d thought it only applied to him. Oh how wrong he was. If the fact that she climbs into bed without any hesitation is any indication, she currently feels like shit.

“Who gets sick during the summer?” she complains to herself, but when Rowan comes out of the shower, she’s already fast asleep again.

He wanders downstairs to grab coffee for himself and is only slightly surprised to see the whole family there.

“Uncle Rowan!” Gavin cheers, throwing himself around Rowan’s thighs.

“Hey, bud, you’re getting really tall,” Rowan laughs. “And strong,” he continues, realizing he’s unable to walk with the little boy grasping his legs.

“Where’s Auntie Ae?” Gavin asks, his blue eyes wide with wonder and curiosity. Rowan recognizes that look. It’s the look of a man obsessed with Aelin Ashryver. He doesn’t particularly blame the child.

“She’s still sleeping,” Rowan answers the little boy, who immediately looks disappointed.

“Someone wore her out?” Lysandra jests, welcoming Rowan with a warm hug and a nudge to his ribs.

“Very funny.” Rowan says, though his tone lacks any humor.

Aedion snorts. “Come on, it’s a little funny. And a great story. Locked out, and then interrupted by the cops while banging?”

Rhoe chokes on his coffee. “I don’t think I used the word banging.”

“No, you used the words ‘being intimate’ which is somehow much grosser,” Aedion laughs again, taking a long sip of his coffee.

Rowan’s cheeks are burning, he can feel the flames go all the way up to his ears. This is why he’s grateful he and Aelin have their own rental they can check into tomorrow.

He ignores the conversation at the table and instead lets them know Aelin isn’t feeling well.

“So she’s not coming to the park today?” Gavin pouts.

“I don’t think so, but maybe tomorrow?”

Appeased, Gavin rushes off to play with Fleetfoot..

Rowan wishes the family a good time at the park and heads back upstairs, wanting to check in on his sick girlfriend. Wait, no. Not girlfriend. Fiancée. He grins at that.

Upstairs, he climbs into bed next to Aelin’s slumbering form. She immediately curls into his thigh, and his mouth twitches upward when she sighs his name in her sleep. His fingers run through her hair, and he basks in a moment of silent happiness. In sickness and in health, right? While Aelin sleeps, Rowan opens his laptop to see about a hundred emails waiting for him. He answers them dutifully as he sips his coffee. His work only halts when Aelin launches herself out of bed and stumbles to the bathroom, still half asleep. He itches to help her, but he’s learned from previous experience that Aelin does not like to be coddled when she’s sick. Instead, he opens her windows to let some fresh air in. The room fills quickly with the crisp scent of salty sea air traveling on a breeze. The shower turns on in the bathroom, and Rowan returns to his never-ending emails while he waits for her to emerge. A cloud of steam billows around her skin as she opens the door. Her skin has regained some color, a pink flush to her cheeks and her eyes look brighter. “Napping helped?” “How long was I out for?” she asks, her voice hoarse as she curls back up next to him. He glances at his watch. “Only a few hours. How are you feeling?” “Like crap,” she laughs. “You should go downstairs. You do not want to catch this.” “I don’t know,” Rowan says, stroking her cheek. “I wouldn’t mind staying in bed for a few days.” Aelin shivers and nuzzles further into his side. “You’ll mind it when you’re hunched over the toilet.” She sniffs the air and a greyish pallor takes over her complexion. “If nothing else, can you take your coffee cup downstairs. The smell of anything food-related is...” “Not good?” he asks, and as Aelin goes to shake her head, she rushes into the bathroom again and slams the door shut. As loathe as he is to leave her, Aelin is right. He can’t afford to get sick right now. So, Rowan takes his laptop out to the patio with Fleetfoot keep him company as he finishes his work. When Aelin finally makes her way downstairs at the end of the day, she looks significantly better. The whole family sits at the dinner table, and their heads swivel to the disheveled blonde, still wearing her pajamas. “You look like you’re feeling better.” Aelin nods in affirmation and Rowan breathes a sigh of relief that it seems the worst has passed. “Can I make you toast, Fireheart?” Evalin asks her daughter, who wrinkles her nose at the large dinner spread on the table. “No, I need something cold for my throat.” She pats at her neck. “Do we have any ice cream?” Rhoe laughs. “Yeah, she’s feeling better.” “Freezer,” Evalin directs her, and Aelin makes herself a bowl of mint ice cream quickly before taking a seat on Rowan’s knee. Rowan looks at Aelin’s empty ring finger as she eats. He can’t wait for tomorrow. Can’t wait to make it official. ~*~ “Twenty-four-hour bug, my ass,” Aelin frowns as she exits the bathroom the next morning. She’d been so convinced it’d passed when her ice cream stayed down last night. Apparently not. “This is the worst.”

Rowan pats the fluffy comforter next to him, and Aelin crawls on top, cuddling into his side like a cat. It’s been a long time since she felt this sick before. And she had the flu earlier this year. Stupid music students and their germy fingers!

“Rowan,” she whispers, wondering if she should admit what she’s about to admit. “I’m starting to believe in the curse.”

Rowan snorts too loudly, taking her comment as a joke, but she’s not so sure. Three days in a row his plans have gone to shit, and Aelin is starting to feel antsy to have that stunning ring on her finger again. She missed its weight as soon as he pulled it off yesterday, and she’s ready for it to be returned to its rightful owner. Her.

As if he senses her agitation, Rowan drags his fingers through her hair, scratching her scalp and playing with the strands like he knows she likes. Her eyes flutter close, and within a few minutes, she’s asleep again. Aelin wakes again in the late afternoon feeling groggy but with an even stomach. She takes a quick shower and brushes her teeth and heads downstairs, where Rowan is lounging out on the back patio. His computer glasses are perched on his nose as his fingers type a mile a minute, probably fixing some bug that Darrow couldn’t reprogram. His brows are furrowed, and he bites his lip – his concentrating face.

He finally looks up as she approaches the doorway, and she watches as his wrinkled forehead smooths out, his serious face replaced by one of delight. It makes her heart beat faster.

“You must be feeling a lot better than this morning if you’re looking at me like that,” Rowan says, closing his computer and standing to greet her. His arms welcome her with a warm embrace, and she inhales deeply as he wraps his arms around her, tugging her close.

“Is everyone at the park?” she asks, lifting an eyebrow suggestively, and she can’t help but smile as Rowan’s eyes darken.

“What happened to being concerned about me getting sick?” he asks as his fingers trail patterns against the thin fabric of her tank top.

“Who said we had to fuck face-to-face?” Aelin says, tugging his shirt with her hands. “Just bend me over the kitchen island.”

“Aelin,” he groans, pressing his face into the top of her head. She can feel his chest vibrate with laughter against hers, letting her know that her idea is being rejected. But if the other things moving against her are any indication, he’s not completely disinterested.

“As tempting as that sounds,” he begins, and by the look on his face, she knows he’s been thoroughly tempted, “I was kind of hoping not to be interrupted the next time we do it. If you’re really feeling better, though, maybe we should move into our own place tonight?”

Aelin grins excitedly. As much as she loves Ashryver Estate, she’s thrilled she and Rowan will have their own place this summer. Where they can be as loud as they want. And desecrate every single surface.

It takes them barely thirty minutes to pack, and Aelin calls her parents to let them know they won’t be there when they return. Aelin assures her parents she feels better, that the bug has run its course, and apologizes for sneaking out while they’re gone.

She and Rowan pull up to the small brown house nearly simultaneously. It’s not on the beach, about a fifteen-minute drive from Aelin’s parents, and about a ten-minute walk to Lysandra and Aedion’s, on a small residential street dotted with lush green trees and bright verdant lawns. They drop their bags in the foyer and immediately wander around the place, taking in the cozy, beach town vibes.

The backyard is perfect, and Rowan opens the screened in porch door for Fleetfoot to run around the wide gated lawn. At the center is a long, narrow pool, which glistens a bright turquoise. Aelin can’t wait to spend her summer lounging in it.

As they make their way back into the house, they finally make their way to the kitchen. Its immaculate marble counters are dotted with decorative bowls of lemons, and Aelin notices Rowan nearly drooling at the Viking double ovens. But what has her attention is right in the middle of the room.

Rowan follows her gaze and his green eyes darken, a shade of forest that she knows means trouble for her. The pair practically race to the kitchen island, and they make good on Aelin’s earlier suggestion, well into the evening.

~*~

Aelin wakes in the middle of the night, gasping for air, feeling overheated in her own skin. She must have had a nightmare, but she can’t remember what about. She looks down at a dreaming Rowan for comfort, his eyelashes twitching against his tanned cheeks, and feels her heart swell in her chest. She loves this man so much. She can’t believe she’s going to be his wife. Years ago, when Chaol had thrown around the word “marriage,” she’d flinched. Literally. Flinched. Now, she aches to let everyone know that this man is going to be her husband.

She leans down and kisses his bare shoulder. “Rowan,” she whispers against his skin, and he stirs slightly. “Rowan, wake up.”

He startles awake, bolting upright faster than he has any right to do, and looks her over seriously. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she says, and he exhales quickly.

“Why am I waking up then?” he asks, looking at the clock. It’s barely past 4 am.

“I know you wanted to do your perfect proposal, but…” Rowan’s face pales in the moonlight, and Aelin reaches out to reassure him quickly. “I don’t need a perfect proposal. I knew when we left here last summer that you were it for me. You’re kind and funny, and you understand my terrible humor without making me feel stupid about it.” Rowan smiles at that one, making her stomach flutter. “You’re ambitious and proud, but you have never asked me to change what I want or to make myself bigger or smaller. You just love … me.” He swallows and nods. He does. She knows he does. Which is why, she barrels on, confessing what she’s been ruminating over the last two days in bed.

“I want to marry you so much,” she breathes, her voice cracking with the weight of her emotion. “And even though I don’t know what your plans were, I know this wasn’t even close to what you imagined. But,” she pauses and bites at the skin on her lip as Rowan leans closer. “I can’t imagine us doing anything traditionally, can you?” He shakes his head and rubs his thumb against her bottom lip, unhooking it from her tooth. She smiles at the gesture. “I loved my accidental proposal,” she says more boldly, “And I want to tell everyone I know immediately. I want to have a celebratory dinner with all our friends, and I…” Her voice cracks again as a rogue tear falls from her eye. “…want my ring back.”

“Right now?” Rowan asks, unshed tears in his eyes, and Aelin nods readily. As Rowan crosses the room to the dresser and pulls the small velvet box from his sock, Aelin’s heart starts pounding again. This is really happening.

He shakes his head slightly as he opens the box and pulls out the ring. It gleams under the soft glow of the moon, casting emerald shadows across their white duvet.

“You know, that was a hell of a proposal, Ms. Ashryver.” He smirks, and she cocks her eyebrow in return.

“So what’s your answer, Mr. Whitethorn?”

He pretends to look pensive for a second, before sliding the ring back onto her finger. It fits perfectly. “Yes, I think I’d like to marry you,” he says, leaning close to her lips. “And what about you? You’ll marry me, too?”

“I already said yes,” she whispers. The tension hums between them, both their hearts pounding with the electric current of their promises. “Yes,” she answers again, and Rowan pulls her beneath the blankets with him.

~*~

“You know your initials are going to spell AAW, now, which I find absolutely adorable,” Lysandra says as she takes Aelin’s splayed hand in her grasp. Her eyes narrow in on the new piece of jewelry, examining it like a hawk.

“It’s stunning, Ae,” she concludes, and Aelin can’t help but peer over Lysandra’s shoulder to grin at the man of the hour, taking beers out of their fridge.

“I know,” Aelin says, her cheeks starting to hurt from smiling so much at her family and friends’ enthusiasm over their “very expected” nuptials, as Manon put it.

The doorbell rings, and Aelin attempts to extract herself from the small circle of women who have huddled around her hand to “oo” and “ah,” at her ring, but Rowan is faster. He welcomes her parents into their abode with a wide smile. Evalin and Rhoe drop off giant catering tins filled with food, prepared by Emrys, on the kitchen island.

Rowan throws Aelin a knowing smirk, and her cheeks pink remembering the thorough way they debased that particular part of the house last night.

Lysandra chuckles softly and whispers in her ear, “I hope you Cloroxed that.”

Aelin’s pink cheeks darken, heating wildly at Lysandra’s knowing smile. She must look shocked, because Lys simply shakes her head and shrugs. “How do you think we got two kids? Please. Aedion and I used to screw on every surface in—”

“Okay!” Aelin holds up her hand. “I don’t need to know.” She gags, feeling slightly queasy at the image of her brother and his wife going at it. “But yes, we invested in Clorox wipes this summer.”

“Smart girl,” she says, squeezing Aelin’s shoulder lightly.

Aelin rolls her eyes and heads to the island to help her fiancé unpack the food and welcome her parents. They greet her with hugs and kisses, and Evalin can’t stop smiling. Neither can Aelin, though. She’s getting married. To Rowan. She’s never felt this kind of happiness.

When Aelin goes to lift the foil from the food, Rowan pushes her away. “Go, sit. I’ll make you a taco.”

The food smells heavenly. Emrys has outdone himself, Aelin thinks to herself as she takes in the spread of multiple taco fillings and accoutrements. And in a separate Tupperware, just for her, is her favorite potato salad, labeled with her name and the word, “Congratulations!” underneath. She thinks she might cry.

“Grilled adobo chicken with corn salsa, guac, and cheese?” she asks, and Rowan nods.

“Chips?” he asks, and she shakes her head, instead pointing to her special Tupperware. He winks at her and shoos her away, back to entertain everyone as he calls out, “Food’s ready!” A line forms across the island, and Rowan oversees food distribution as Aelin wanders back out to heir friends. She knows what he’s doing. By staying by the food, Rowan doesn’t have to socialize or make small talk. Things he loathes. She doesn’t call him out, letting him retreat to his comfort place of the kitchen as she makes her way out to the screened in porch where most everyone is sitting.

“So, when do we get proposal details?” Elide asks, sipping at her beer. Lorcan frowns, commenting that proposals are private, and Aelin briefly wonders if those two are next in line to walk down the aisle.

She smiles as slides onto the chaise next to an outstretched Dorian, who’s already working on his third beer, and tells a very vague and abridged version of their proposal.

Manon laughs every step of the way, relishing in the ridiculousness of their premature proposal. “And the ring traveled across the room from his pocket, hm? How aggressively was he kicking them off?”

“Manon, my family is here,” Aelin hisses.

“Your family knows what you two were up to in your bedroom all last summer,” Aedion laughs loudly, “And apparently this summer,” he continues, pulling Lysandra into his lap, as the room bursts into laughter at Aelin’s expense.

“I hate you all,” Aelin groans as Rowan walks into the porch, both their plates in hand.

“I hope not,” he says as he hands off the plate to Aelin. “Otherwise, the rest of our lives are going to be pretty awkward…”

“You know I love you,” Aelin says, batting her eyelashes. “You bring me food.”

Rowan rolls his eyes and takes a large bite of his taco. Aelin does the same and nearly moans in satisfaction. It’s so spicy and so good. She really hopes it stays down. The only food she’s had in the last two days has been ice cream and toast.

As she devours her plate, she listens to Elide and Lorcan’s summer plans, nodding and hmming in all the right places. She saved her potato salad for last, because you should always save the best for last, and excitedly plops a piece into her mouth. She chews twice before she spits it back out onto the plate. The whole room silences.

“Sorry,” Aelin apologizes, covering the chewed potato with a napkin. “I think the mayo was off.”

Rowan takes a bite of it himself and cocks his head to the side. “It tastes fine to me. Are you sure you’re not still sick?” he asks, leaning over to feel her forehead. It flushes under his touch, but not because she’s sick. She’s been fine for over twenty-four-hours.

“I’m fine,” Aelin whines. “But that mayo was not.”

Manon opens her mouth and closes it. And then opens it again. “Maybe you’re pregnant.”

“No…” Rowan and Aelin reply quickly at the same time, before glancing at each other, and then back at the room filled with their friends and family. Their expressions range from amused to suspicious to horrified to confused, and suddenly Aelin thinks she’s going to be ill all over again.

“That’s not possible,” Aelin comments confidently. There’s no way. She went back on the pill as soon as she went home last summer. Although now that she’s thinking about it, she’s not a hundred percent sure she actually bled during her last placebo pill week. But she must have, right?

“Aelin?” Rowan asks, his voice unreasonably high. He leans forward and places his hand on her knee, and she looks down at it, placing her hand atop it, before looking back at him.

“I think we should go to the pharmacy.”

“Oh, I’m coming too!” Elide announces, downing the rest of her beer.

Aelin rushes out of the house without saying goodbye to anyone. She assumes Rowan makes some excuse for their departure, but she doesn’t have time to delay. She needs to know and needs to know now. How the hell could this have happened? There must be some other explanation. Her knuckles are white on the steering wheel as Rowan hops into the passenger seat, and Elide slides into the back.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly, and Aelin nods tersely.

“Uh huh,” she replies, but she’s not entirely sure how she feels.

Inside the pharmacy, Aelin pulls three different brands of pregnancy tests. Rowan stands awkwardly beside her, arms crossed, perusing the back of each.

“I don’t know,” he says calmly, but his wild green eyes betray his panic. “Is there a best brand?”

Aelin doesn’t know. She decides to get all three.

As they wait in the check-out line, Elide giggles loudly.

“Aw man,” she places a hand each on Rowan and Aelin. “Remember the last time I ran into you here? You were buying condoms.” Her eyes flick to the pregnancy tests. “Why’d you stop using them?”

“Elide!” Aelin hisses, and Elide grimaces at her tone. Rowan pays quickly and swipes the bag of the counter and returns to the car. She looks at Rowan, his eyes simmering with worry as he looks her over. “The mayo was off… wasn’t it?” she asks again, and Rowan reaches for her hand, taking it in his larger one and shakes his head.

Aelin speeds home, ignoring everyone as she makes her way into the guest bathroom and pees on every single stick. She’s taking no chances. She sets a three-minute timer on her phone, and slinks against the bathroom door, falling until her butt hits the cold tile of the floor. This was absolutely not the engagement celebration she had anticipated.

Through the door, she can hear Rowan lean against the other side. He must be sitting, too. His head thumps against the wood and she breathes in deeply, eyes screwed closed.

“I love you,” he murmurs against the door, sliding his fingertips through the crack beneath it. Aelin brushes her own against his, and she releases some of the panic she’s been holding in her shoulders at his calming touch.

She stays like that, until her alarm goes off. And she can feel that tension creeping back into her body, which is suddenly frozen with fear.

“I can’t look,” she says.

“You have to look,” Rowan insists through the door.

“I don’t want to,” she groans. “And I don’t have to.” She pauses. “You can.”

She can hear his sharp exhale. “Do you want me to?”

“Please,” she says quietly, and she can hear him stand. The doorknob turns and he pushes the door open. Aelin shifts slightly so he can get through, and he walks straight to the counter top where the tests are laid out, getting her pee all over one of the fancy hand towels.

Aelin closes her eyes tightly, thinking that if she closes her eyes, she won’t have to see the result. But of course. She forgot about her ears. Rowan’s breath stays steady as he turns and crouches in front of her.

“You’re pregnant,” he whispers. Aelin’s heart thuds. She knew she was. As soon as Manon said the word, she knew.

“It was those stupid antibiotics when I had strep,” Aelin grumbles, putting her face into her hands. “I knew there was a chance, and I didn’t say anything. Why didn’t I say anything?” This was so not the plan. Her feelings are all over the place. “Rowan, what are we going to do?”

She opens her eyes, shocked to see how close Rowan is to her. He cradles her face in his hands, his thumbs stroking her cheeks gently as he probes into her with a loving gaze. It takes her aback for a second. The way he looks at her. Gods, she loves him so much. She blinks and is surprised when a tear rolls down her cheek. He wipes it away and kisses it. The small gesture is enough to solidify how Aelin feels.

“I know this isn’t the right time for us. It’s so soon, and you’re in the middle of your schooling, and I’m going to be looking for a new app to work on soon, so… if you don’t a baby right now…” He swallows, his voice pained as he continues forward, and Aelin can’t gasp soon enough. “I’ll support you no matter what—”

“No!” Aelin shakes her head.

“No?” Rowan asks, quirking his head to the side, and Aelin finally lets her tears spill over her cheeks.

“No.” She shakes her head, giving him a watery smile. “This is our baby. I want this.”

“Yeah?” he asks, and she nods again, blinking rapidly. She can’t blink the tears away fast enough, so Rowan kisses them away, pressing his lips against her eyes and her cheeks until her crying abates.

The pair kissing in the bathroom don’t even notice when their party departs, too busy being wrapped up in one another.

~*~

Rowan is woken up in the middle of the night, again, by his fiancée. He loves her more than anything, but he’d really enjoy a full night of sleep one of these nights. Preferably without her yelling at him.

“Rowan!” she growls, rousing him from his pleasant dreams, and hoisting him up. Her face is red with anger, her eyes glittering in the moonlight, looking ready to attack.

“Hmm?”

“I can’t believe you knocked me up! Now we have to have a shotgun wedding!” she yells, louder than she has any right to in the middle of the night.

“Can it really be considered a shotgun wedding if I proposed to you before I knew you were pregnant?” Rowan asks, trying to pull her back down, and immediately regrets it, based on Aelin’s increased anger.

She frowns. “I don’t want to be fat at my wedding.”

Rowan laughs sweetly and pulls Aelin into his arms. “You won’t be fat. You’ll be pregnant.”

Aelin pushes herself out of his grasp and glares. Ok. Wrong thing to say, clearly. “I refuse to be fat at my wedding,” she growls, flopping back onto her pillow. “But if we wait until after we have the baby for me to get my body back… that could be two years from now.” She rolls over and faces him. “I don’t want to wait two years.”

Rowan scoots down until he’s facing her, his legs tangled with her bare ones beneath the covers. “First of all, you’re beautiful, no matter what.” Aelin scoffs, clearly not believing his truth. “But, we don’t have to wait.” He can’t help but kiss her surprised face. “Let’s get married this summer. Here. It’s where I’d want to do it anyway.”

He can see a hundred thoughts racing through Aelin’s blue eyes as she contemplates his proposal.

“Plan a wedding in two months? My mom is going to die.”

“If it’s too much…”

“It’s not too much,” Aelin replies, snuggling closer to him. He runs his hand up the back of her tank top, feeling her skin warm the pads of his fingers. She presses closer to him, her curves against his chest, and he dips his head down to kiss her.

“It’ll still be a shotgun wedding,” Rowan says through kisses. “The people who don’t already know will surely figure it out when the baby comes six months later.”

“As long as I look good in photos, I don’t care.”

“Good to know motherhood won’t affect your vanity,” Rowan chuckles, and Aelin gasps.

“Rowan, we’re getting married, and we’re going to have a baby.”

Rowan shakes his head. “I know. What have we done?”

~*~

If Rowan thought last summer was a whirlwind, it’s nothing compared to a summer with a pregnant, last minute wedding-planning Aelin. As soon as they told her parents the plan, Aelin was off to the races. They’ve decided to forgo everything traditional, much to Evalin’s distress. The only thing Aelin has insisted upon is Rowan not seeing her wedding dress beforehand, which he has no problem with.

In fact, he’s been fairly uninvolved in the wedding plans, leaving the decisions to Aelin. He found out very quickly that she had strong opinions about flowers and colors and food. The only thing he’s insisted upon participating in is the guest list – which includes only twenty of their closest friends and family. He knows that number isn’t even a tenth of the amount of people who attended Aedion and Lysandra’s wedding. Aelin is expected to have a high society wedding, but she and Rowan are defying expectations left and right with their lives. But somehow, it doesn’t seem to matter. They stopped asking for approval from anyone the second they got together, and everyone seems to be okay with that.

Rowan smirks as Aelin sighs loudly from the back seat of his car. Her arms are crossed against her chest, pushing up her breasts to make an even larger than usual swell of cleavage. Despite her insecurities, pregnancy looks incredible on Aelin, and Rowan can’t help if his eyes flick to her chest more often these days.

“Stop checking out my rack, Rowan,” Aelin frowns, and he laughs boisterously, tipping his head back in amusement at his grumpy fiancée. “It’s not funny. Look at the road.”

Rowan stares harder. “We’re at a stoplight.”

Aelin’s lips curl into the most adorable pout, and her blue eyes widen.

“You know, you could have driven up here with me,” Rowan says of the empty passenger seat next to him, and Aelin shakes her head.

“No, changing levels is the one thing that makes me queasy,” she explains.

“Which is why you should have driven up here,” Rowan says. “My mom is going to insist that the pregnant girl sit in the front.”

“Adults sit in the front,” Aelin snaps, and Rowan smiles.

“I hate to break it to you, but you are an adult.”

Aelin frowns again. “You know what I mean.”

They drive in silence for a few more seconds until the tension becomes so thick that Rowan has to ask. “Are you nervous about meeting my mom?”

It’s all the prompting Aelin needs to explode. “Yes!” she shouts, throwing her arms up in defeat. “Of course I’m nervous! I’ve stolen her son away from her. You didn’t even go back for Yulemas,” she prattles nervously. Rowan watches as she emphasizes with her hands, a sure sign of Aelin’s stress. It’s completely unfounded, though.

“Aelin, you don’t understand,” Rowan throws her what he hopes is a reassuring smile over his shoulder. “You made Dora’s dreams come true by dating me, much less marrying me and incubating our child. She loves you.”

Aelin barks out a laugh. “Incubating?”

Rowan shrugs. “What would you call it?”

“Incubating works,” she replies with a snort, and Rowan can tell he’s had some luck in calming her nerves.

By the time they arrive at the airport, Dora is already waiting on the curb with her bag in her hand. She’s come to spend the whole wedding week, spending time with Rowan and meeting her in-laws before they make it official. Rowan’s been playing it cool, but he is incredibly excited to see his mom.

He hops out of the car and welcomes her with a big hug as soon as he can. Aelin nervously exits the car and waves hello. He watches as Dora’s eyes go wide as she extricates herself from Rowan and throws her arms around Aelin.

“You are even more stunning in person,” Dora says, causing a soft blush to appear on Aelin’s cheeks. “How are you feeling? Sick at all? How are the cravings? How are your studies? Are you teaching at all this summer?”

“Uhhh…”

It’s so rare that Aelin is flustered, that is gives Rowan some sort of sick pleasure that it’s Dora Whitethorn, who makes her nervous. Rowan can’t help but smile as he watches his two favorite women meet each other. As he expected, Dora goes straight for the back seat when it’s time to return to the car, and it’s a fight Aelin loses quickly.

“Told you so,” Rowan says, winking at a disgruntled Aelin, as she buckles herself in.

“Has your son always been so self-righteous?” Aelin asks the white-haired woman making herself comfortable in the back of Rowan’s roomy SUV.

Dora’s green eyes twinkle as she hums. “No, but he’s always been a pain in my ass.”

“Mom!” Rowan can hear her snickering behind him, and Aelin’s eyes widen in joy. There’s nothing she loves more than teasing him. He forgot that these two share that interest.

“It’s true, baby,” Dora laughs. “You’re constantly making things much harder than they should be. Aelin should know what she’s getting herself into.”

Rowan frowns as Aelin laughs harder. “If I get left at the altar I’m blaming you.”

Aelin snorts loudly and puts her hand on her stomach. “As if I’d raise this chicken on my own. No offense, Dora, but I seems really hard. I don’t know how you did it. And so well.”

“Sometimes you get a good egg,” Dora says with a small smile just for Aelin. “Now, tell me all the gossip about everyone who’s going to be at this wedding. I just flew ten hours and am ready to be entertained.”

~*~

“Stop fidgeting,” Manon hisses, swatting Rowan’s hands away from his carefully brushed hair.

“I can’t,” Rowan admits, tugging nervously at a lock of his hair. He’d meant to get a haircut before the big day, but clearly that hadn’t happened, and now his hair is just a smidge too long, falling into his eyes ever so slightly.

Manon glares, her heavily lined eyes throwing him a look that could kill. And he knows she means it. Rowan stands still, taking a deep breath and attempting to center himself as Manon rolls up the sleeves of his light blue blazer.

“How are you this nervous?” Manon asks, quirking her red-painted lips into an amused half-smile. “Dorian is officiating.”

“Don’t remind me,” Rowan groans. How he said yes to that idea, he’ll never know. Aelin must have been in the midst of performing some incredible sexual act for him to agree to that detail. But it seemed too important to her say no. Plus, it’s not like there was anyone else he’d rather do it. He was just… nervous. About what Dorian might potentially say in front of their guests. After all. He’d been there since the very beginning.

“He loves you both,” Manon says with a sigh. “And I do too. Although if you ever use it against me I’ll deny forever.”

“You love Aelin?” Rowan asks, and he watches as his best friend rolls her eyes and hip checks Rowan. She adjusts the thin straps of her navy jumpsuit, smoothing out the silky fabric to assure her minor assault hasn’t messed up her wedding look.

“I just told you I’d deny it.” She places her hands on her hips, examining Rowan up and down, before adjusting the small white pocket square in his blazer. “There. Perfect.” She says with a pat to his chest. “Ready?” she asks, and Rowan nods.

Rowan leads Manon through the gates of Ashryver Playland and lets his worries ease away. He’s not sure why he was ever nervous. He’s about to marry the most amazing woman in the world.

Beside the pier, in the location where Rowan had intended to ask Aelin to marry him, is a small walkway leading out to a platform on the beach. Ten chairs flank either side, filled with smiling, familiar faces. Dorian waits at the center of the platform, beneath a stunning arch of twisting greenery dotted with pale flowers.

As the sun starts to descend, a dark golden haze casts itself over the sand. He watches as it turns to orange and then pink beneath his shadow. And then he knows it’s time.

Rowan smiles as Gavin leads Fleefoot down the aisle, spreading pale flower petals across the platform with his other hand and then takes a seat next to his family, who congratulates him with high fives and cheers. Fleetfoot happily thumps her tail as Rowan gives her a smile, too.

But his attention is diverted immediately as everyone stands to welcome Aelin. His heart thumps wildly in his chest, hammering against his ribs as he spots her face. Aelin lifts her chin up toward the colorful tie-dye sky and takes a deep breath. As she takes her first step onto the platform, she smiles the most beautiful smile Rowan’s ever seen. He’s sure his face mirrors hers, and he can’t help but laugh as she scrunches up her nose slightly and sticks her tongue out at him. Gods, she’s perfect.

His eyes never leave her grinning face. When he takes her hands in his, when she stands here facing him, all the way until they say, “I do.” He’s not sure what he was ever worried about, because he barely even hears Dorian’s officiating, too busy being swept up in the turquoise-gold of Aelin’s eyes.

When Dorian announces, “You may kiss the bride,” Rowan doesn’t think twice before wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. If she’s surprised by the exuberance of his kiss, Aelin doesn’t show it. She matches his fervor with equal force, soft lips parting to let their tongues explore each other’s mouths a little too thoroughly for public consumption.

“Now everyone knows how Aelin got pregnant,” Dorian snorts quietly behind him, and Aelin smiles and laughs into Rowan’s mouth.

Seeing his opportunity, Dorian interrupts them before they can go in for another kiss. “I now pronounce you husband and wife!”

Rowan lifts Aelin, scooping her from under her knees, and cradles her against his chest as he bounds off the platform.

“Where are you going?” Dorian yells as Aelin squeals loudly. But Rowan doesn’t care.

He finds the pole he was looking for immediately. Below the pier. Where he first kissed Aelin. He wants to kiss her there as his wife for the first time.

“Rowan!” she gasps as he presses her against the wooden beam, his mouth finding hers quickly. He can feel her soft fingers in his hair, tugging him against her, reciprocating his kiss, making his pulse race just like that very first time.

He pulls away panting, and rests his forehead against hers.

“I love you so much,” she whispers. “But if you ruin my dress before we get a picture together, I’ll murder you.”

Rowan laughs and lets her down, and they both kick off their shoes and sink their toes into the sand. He finally lets his eyes trail down her body, taking in her flowing white dress and grins.

“I’m going to be honest, I just looked at the dress for the first time.”

She smacks his shoulder, and he recoils, grabbing her hand and bringing it to his lips. “You’re perfect.”

She tilts her head to the side, letting her loose waves fall over her shoulder. “You’re a sap.”

“A sap you love,” he retorts quickly.

“Gods help us,” Aelin laughs, reaching up to kiss him again. But Rowan has other thoughts in mind. He trails his lips down her neck to her chest, loving the way the neckline of her dress emphasizes it.

“Oy!” Dorian cackles, “Let’s keep it PG. There’s people who want to eat dinner soon.”

Rowan flicks him off. “We’ll meet you there.”

But Aelin grabs his hand and pulls him to follow Dorian.

Their small reception is only a ten minute walk away in the Ashryvers’ back patio. Aelin made the playlist herself, and they covered the pool with a temporary dance floor. Emrys made the dinner – no mayo in anything and sparkling cider to last well into the night.

Rowan walks hand in hand with his bride across the sand, walking the familiar stretch from Playland to the Ashryver Estate. Only this time, everything is different. Nothing is a secret. And they both belong in a world of their own creation – one they’re going to start getting ready to bring a life into.

~*~

“What are you thinking?” Aelin says from her perch on his lap, well into the evening. She runs her fingers through his hair, now disheveled from hours of dancing and too many sips of champagne.

“I’m thinking that I can’t wait until next summer,” Rowan says, cracking a smile at Aelin. She rubs her thumb against his cheek and presses her lips to his.

“The last two summers weren’t crazy enough for you?” she asks. “You want to know what it’s going to be like with an infant in the mix?”

Rowan pales. “Oh my god, Aelin, we’re going to have a baby.”

“Did you forget?” she says, holding back a laugh.

He shakes his head. “No. I just…” He pauses. “What are we going to do with a baby at Playland?”

Aelin laughs, leaning her tired head against his shoulder. “Well, we’ll obviously take them on the Firecoaster, first and foremost. Then the High Flyer. Oh, and the Bumper Cars.”

Rowan can feel his lips turning down into a frown as he imagines his child on the dangerous rides.

“Rowan, I’m kidding,” she assures him, and he squeezes her side, causing her to let out a sharp cackle. “We’ll figure it out,” she finally says quietly. “We always do.”

She tightens her hand around his, and the pair sit together, wrapped up in each other, long after their party has ended and their friends have gone home, telling each other stories of summers to come and memories yet to be made.

~*~

I have loved writing this fic so much, and I don’t truly want to say goodbye. Which is why if you ever want a futuretake with these two, I will be more than happy to take prompts. ALSO, in case you hadn’t seen, I started a new Rowaelin fic called I Don’t Want To Wait (linked the masterlist).

Per usual, if you’d like to be added to my TOG taglist, please message me HERE.

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