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Celebrate every occasion with cotton-blended napkins!
Embellish an elegant flair to your festive celebrations with the Ultimate Cotton-Rich Blend Napkins. It is designed with the luxurious feel of cotton and the durability of polyester. These white table napkins are immaculate for holiday feasts, family gatherings, weddings, or milestone celebrations. Their soft texture and polished appearance create a warm, welcoming ambiance, enhancing the charm of your table settings. Available in various colors, these tablecloth napkins effortlessly complement seasonal themes—the rich tones of autumn, the sparkle of winter festivities, or the fresh hues of spring.
Easy to maintain and resistant to wrinkles, these premium table linen napkins save you time while adding sophistication to every meal. Celebrate in style and impress your guests with the timeless appeal of the colored table napkins.
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~ Purple and Gold ~
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Cinnamon Stick Napkin Rings
Pair together cinnamon sticks and winter berries, for a chic and organic napkin ring alternative.
#Christmas napkin rings#Christmas wedding ideas#Christmas table#cinnamon napkin rings#cute Christmas tables#Christmas table decor#winter wedding
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Luxury You Can Feel, Colors You’ll Love
Fandango Color Table Linen Napkins, with their timeless beauty and lively charm, will bring your table to life.The ideal option for any party or gathering. These napkins are expertly created from high-quality 100% polyester fabric, making them both sturdy and stain-resistant, ensuring they keep their pristine appearance with each usage. Their wrinkle-resistant surface makes them an easy choice for events that require a professional presentation. Designed to be both sophisticated and utilitarian. These napkins are ideal for weddings, banquets, corporate events, and everyday eating. They add an exquisite touch to any table arrangement. Fandango Napkins, available in a variety of vivid and lively colors, give a dramatic visual appeal to any décor, whether you're organizing a themed event or simply want to brighten up your table. The soft texture and luxury feel make them ideal for both informal and formal settings. These napkins, designed with convenience in mind, are machine washable and long-lasting, making them an environmentally friendly and cost-effective alternative for homes, restaurants, and event sites.
#Fandango Color Table Linen Napkins#Herringbone weave Table napkins#Wrinkle-resistant Polyester napkins#Stain-resistant Color table napkins#Table linens wholesale#Machine washable napkins#Color retention Premium table napkins#Care instructions for napkins#Polyester fabric durability#Restaurant table linens#Wedding banquet napkins#Soft feel napkins#hysupplies
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Restaurant Linen Hire and Laundry Services
We, Brent Linen Hire have been serving the London restaurant and catering industry for over 12 years. We have learnt the restaurant linen hire business ins and out with high quality chef uniform hire to hotel linen hire. We ensure that you receive high quality products at the best price with on time delivery. #brentlinenhire #hotellinenhire #linenhirelondon #linenhirenearme…
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Plush Self Care
linktr.ee/PlushGemArt
#table styling#table linens#table manners#tableware#tabletop#welcome to the table#table setting#coffee table#tablecloth#friends at the table#head of the table#napkin holder#napkin rings#napkin#place settings#placemat#table etiquette#unique gifts#wedding gifts#gift box#gift giving#gifts#christmas gift#gift guide#gift ideas#gift#gift for her#holiday gifts#birthday gift
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I NEED MORE CREGAN STARKKKKK
Pelts
You were not one to grow jealous, but the knowledge that Lord Stark's favorite pelt cloak was a gift of affection from his old sweetheart inspired anything but affection from you.
Cregan Stark x Reader | 1k+ | cw: fem!reader, wife!reader, jealousy, pettiness, fluff, a bit of angst ig????, etc.
A/N: hey nonnie im honored you like my cregan stuff. this is my first req since closing them. i feel like perhaps this is the world telling me i need to start writing fluff again............ lol HAHAH
The Lord of Winterfell had just arrived. Normally, I would meet him with a smile and brush the snow from his shoulders before warming his cheeks with the heat from my own palm. But today, neither did I brush the snow from his cloak, nor did I rub his cheeks. How irritating that he did not see to mind or even notice.
I do not fault him for lapping his meal like a starved beast. He rarely has time to have a proper meal when he is working, let alone when his duty calls him all the way up to The Wall for days on end. And yet, as he gobbled up his food, as though he was denied his whole life, my own appetite left me at the sight.
His tongue swiped the corner of his mouth and yet evidence of his meal remained. He chewed eagerly as he reached out for a cup of wine to wash everything down.
I could not help the face I made at the sound of his belch.
Only then did he recognize me. He sets his cup down, "wife," says Cregan, "you are not eating."
I raise my brows and press my lips into a smile, "I am not hungry, my lord."
My lord. Cregan straightens up from his seat and leans back. He clears his throat as his face twists warily, "are you well?"
I do not respond. I rest my hands upon the table. The candlelight between us flickers momentarily.
He gulps and sets his utensils down. He sighs slowly, "have I offended?"
I clench my hands tightly.
Cregan's eyes flicker to them. He wipes his mouth with a napkin and looks up at me. He does not like that my expression remains the same.
"Your pelt... milord," I mutter.
Immediately, the pelt upon his shoulders feel like a tonne. He rolls his shoulders back and immediately undoes it, "forgive me. It is inappropriate to have it on while-"
"Who gifted it to you?"
He freezes midway. He waits for me continue as he slowly places his cloak upon his lap. His eyes widen slightly, in confusion, in alarm. Was it a gift? He does not recall.
His silence is aggravating. I clench my jaw and lean forward, "do you not wish to tell me?"
Cregan opens his mouth.
"She told me herself."
A line forms between his brows, "who?"
"Lady Tallart."
He pinches his lips together. Lady Tallart? It could not be Edmond Tallart's mother who gifted this. It must be his wife... but which house did she belong to before she was wed?
He looks as though he is trying to recall the instance, the exact moment wherein his cloak was given to him. Somehow, the arduous recollection spurs me further into animosity. I growl, "do you truly not remember?"
He shakes his head, "I do not."
I clear my throat and push myself up from my seat.
Cregan stands quickly, so quickly, in fact, that his chair falls behind him with a loud thud, not that he cares. He calls my name out with concern and it makes me snap.
"I would appreciate it if you chose another cloak to wear."
The man walks over to me, forcing me to lift my gaze upon his worried face. I raise a hand at him before he can think to touch my arm. He withholds his touch.
"Cassandra and I had a cloak tailored in your absence. If it pleases you, you should wear it. However, if it is not to your taste, I can-"
"It is my taste," he interrupts. He nods his head, "the pick of my wife is my taste. I will wear it"
The glow of candlelight on Cregan's cheek makes my stomach roll. Bile rises up from my throat as his brows furrow in nothing but further concern.
"I care little for what I wear," he casts his cloak off to the side, "I care more for what concerns you."
My irritation over the matter bursts into embarrassment in an instant. A burning sensation creeps up from behind me, and soon I can no longer look upon my husband. I look back to the candle on the table and rashly gather my food. Before Cregan can speak, I mutter under my breath, "please enjoy your food, husband."
There's little he can do but watch as I rush off. Two wolves battle inside him, one that wishes to chase after, and another that keeps him still where he stands. Just as he is about to obey the former, the servant girl, Cassandra, comes up to him, "milord. Might I speak my piece?"
He watches as his wife disappears and sighs. He turns to Cassandra, "speak it."
She frowns, "milady has spent the three nights you were away making you a cloak herself."
"Has she?" his brows tighten.
Cassandra nods, "but her needlework is not as good as she wished, which is why she bought you this, milord," she hands him a neatly folded cloak.
Cregan takes it from her and sighs deeply. He unfolds the garb and inspects his wife's gift. He hangs the fabric on his arm and releases another breath, "will you show me my wife's needlework?"
Cassandra looks apprehensive, but she obeys her lord.
The next morning, I rouse to an empty bed. A thousand pins prick my heart, but I have no one to blame but myself for the turn of events.
I sit with myself, all lonesome, before deciding to begin my day. But just before I can dress myself, I hear a commotion from outside my window. I gasp when I see that there had been a buck who wandered inside the stronghold, running around in panic.
I wrap myself with a shawl before opening my window, watching how my husband and his men were trying to scare the deer towards the gate. Soon enough, my jaw drops at the sight of the horrid thing resting upon Cregan's shoulders as he maneuvered around the large creature.
Thankfully, it did not take the deer long to find the exit of Winterfell. The men share relieved sighs and laughter amongst themselves, as did I.
"My lord!"
Cregan, who was now calming down one of the spooked horses, does not hear me.
"My lord!" I call louder, gaining the attention of someone else.
Cregan is pat on the back. A man points skyward. He looks over his shoulder, face brightening at the sight of me. "Lady Stark," Cregan smiles, offering me a nod, "did we wake you?"
I shake my head, "what are you wearing?"
He turns to me and adjusts his lopsided cloak. The thing was hardly even worthy to be called one with how one hem barely met the man's calf and how one shoulder was far fuller than the other. He calls out proudly, "the work of my wife's hands!"
My face contorts, "it is horrid! Remove it at once."
Cregan pulls his head back, "I shall do no such thing."
"I bought you-"
"But I enjoy this," he lifts an arm to flaunt the terrible craftsmanship, "it keeps me warm and it suits me well."
"It does not!"
Cregan furrows his brows in challenge, "does it take away from my handsomeness, wife?"
I press my lips into a line.
The men around him chortle or snigger. Even mine own lips cannot help the chuckle that spills out. And though he was far, I could tell Cregan was awfully pleased with himself.
"If you wish to rid me of this, then you must do so yourself," he strokes the horse's snout, "but know you are challenging the Warden of the North as you do."
I roll my eyes and shake my head, "it is the work of my hands, Lord Stark."
"Which is why you must not rid me of it, my Lady Stark."
We stare at each other for a moment. Cregan's lips curl into a lopsided grin that matches his cloak. I sigh and shake my head once more, "we will speak of this later."
He nods, "as you wish, my love."
I clear my throat and close the window, ignoring the way my belly tumbled at the sound of his pet name.
#house of the dragon fanfic#house of the dragon#cregan x reader#cregan stark#cregan stark x reader#cregan fanfic#cregan stark fanfic#cregan stark fluff#hotd fanfic#house of the dragon smut#cregan stark smut#cregan smut#cregan stark angst#cregan angst
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── 𝐖𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you're less than pleased to be marrying the arrogant noble your parents arranged for you. On the day of your wedding, you cross paths with a pirate who seems keen on ruining your big day, and you couldn't be more thrilled.
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: luffy x fem!reader
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8k
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: minor alabasta spoilers, arranged marriage, I kind of went ham on the descriptions and readers backstory in general, violence, mother issues
𝐚/𝐧: *arises from where i fell off the face of the earth and throws down an offering* greetings.
𝐎𝐏 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
“Respectfully…” You took a moment to compose yourself, sipping from your teacup and raising your eyes to settle on your soon-to-be husband. “You are the scum of the earth, Mr. Toleson.”
Mr. Toleson, quite used to this, only rolled his eyes and moved to pour you more tea. “Pray tell me what I have done to receive such contempt, Miss?”
That question could not easily be answered. Did your contempt stem from your lack of choice, or from Mr. Toleson’s less than agreeable disposition? Or perhaps from society’s overall decision that whatever may happen, you should sit still and be merry. Who cares if your marriage is loveless and your life unfulfilled?
You dropped another sugar cube in your tea and stirred it around. Maybe it was everything all at once. And Mr. Toleson’s… superiority in age didn’t help matters either. The rickety man just reached his late fifties, his hair reaching a color not yet gray, but most definitely not the brown of his youth. You’d seen pictures. He was a handsome boy twenty years ago, when you were but a lemon-shaped babe in the womb.
“I had plans,” you answer at last. “Plans that do not include you.”
His eyes twinkled like the idea was preposterous, his mustaches curling with his lips. Mr. Toleson gazed at you like a child, only discomforting you even further about the idea of sharing a marriage bed. “What plans, Miss?”
“It doesn’t matter,” you snapped back. “I’m going to be chained to you all my life. Even after you die, which I assume will be soon given the state of you, I’ll be forced into widowhood. I look awful in black, you know, and pretending to grieve would do nothing for my mental state—oh, where are you going?”
Mr. Toleson had thrown down his napkin, face hot and brows screwed together. He peered down his nose at your poor attempt at hiding a smile. “When you’re my wife,” he said, tone even and dark, gaze even more so. “You’ll do well to learn manners, Miss.”
There was a threat in there somewhere, for certain, and you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of a response. Mr. Toleson huffed out his too-small nose and spun on his heel, barking at a poor attendant to fix the table’s preposterous flower arrangement.
You gave the young boy a sorry look and stood to leave when a sharp voice filtered in from the next room.
“Mr. Toleson! Where are you going—?” Your mother’s shrill tone cut short, a growl of your name soon to follow.
“Shit.” You whirled on the attendant boy with a pointed finger. He froze, eyes wide as several petals fell loose onto the table. “Please,” you hissed, pressing your palms together. “Ypu must help me.”
The boy dropped the flowers back into the vase, splashing a bit of water. With a single nod, he beelined for the window, unlatching it and swinging it open. You rushed over, his hands pushing you outside. “This is the only way out, my lady.”
“I’ll fall—wait!” You were swinging your legs over the sill before you realized what you were doing. Heart pattering in your chest, you cast him a look, but he was already shutting the window and drawing the curtains behind you. “Oh, dear.”
Down below, about twenty feet down and beyond the hedged yard, were the streets of the city, carts pulled by mules and passersby tracking dirt and mud and other materials across the dirt roads. You glanced around the outer wall of Mr. Toleson’s house. A trellis ran down the side just one window away, which you could use to climb down to then jump into the hedges. Stealing a breath, you began to inch along the window sill, setting a delicate foot on the wide declarative trim running from each window to the next. When it didn’t crumble beneath your foot, you went on, barely breathing as you clung flush to the wall.
Reaching the window, precariously making a step up to the next sill, you nearly tipped backward when you caught your mother’s back through the window. Feet slipping, you scurried down the trellis, losing your grip every few seconds and clinging to the wall. Eventually, you touched the earth, dusting off your dress as you faced the garden wall. Ivy ran all along it, but you’d done enough exploring whilst avoiding Mr. Toleson’s advances to know that a gate hid behind the green. It led right into a damp, drippy alleyway. You cringed down at your custom-made shoes, costing a fortune for certain. Sacrifices had to be made, and today, your shoes paid the price.
Your wedding was a day away, and with it the end of your happiness. Not that anyone cared about your happiness those days. Expelling a sigh, you wandered the streets till nightfall, returning to the grand house in the dead of night.
Your mother paced the entry hall when you stepped inside, the tall door booming shut behind you. Her eyes were on you like a hawk, her words sharp knives. “Where have you been?”
“Uptown,” you drawled, tossing your now dirtied shoes across the carpet. “Downtown. Midtown. Where haven’t I been is the real question.”
She looked close to exploding, cheeks inflated and lips pinched together. “You embarrassed me—You embarrassed Mr. Toleson!”
Waving an absent hand, “I couldn’t care less, woman. Now let me be before I drop dead of melancholy.”
A stiff utterance of your name struck the air, the impact on your back fleeting as you swept upstairs. Again and again, she cried your name till it sounded more like a beg than an order, and it halfway made you desire to face her. But facing your mother and having her see you had long been a futile task.
Her voice struck your back until you reached the top of the stairs and darted down the hall, whipping open your bedroom door and slamming it back behind you. Swiftly locking it, you clawed at your chest, skin constricting and choking you out. That woman… your mother could never understand.
Once, you hoped maybe she could. Your oldest servant, a frail woman who’d been serving your mother for a decade, told you that your mother went through the same unfortunate situation as you. She walked an aisle leading to shackles, just as you would at tomorrow’s soon-coming dusk. But time had turned that woman cold, making her hellbent on sentencing you to the same fate.
Eyes scanning the room, you gave a shaken sigh. Tomorrow you would be forced into a similar room, but that one you would share with Mr. Toleson. Your skin crawled. “At least he only wants my money. He cares for nothing else.”
You slipped into bed, unsure of the next good sleep you’d receive.
જ ⁀ ➴
Up with the sun, you dressed quickly and slipped out of the house, careful not to make a sound as you exited onto the street. There was ample time between sunrise and the ceremony, each second passing with a daunting swiftness. Soon, the morning bells rang throughout the city, signaling that noon had fallen.
You stared up at the sky as the chimes fell silent, chest constricting. This walk around the city had done nothing to quell your distress. In anything, it made it worse; people on the street beamed and congratulated you on sight, offering you flowers and well-wishes. You received them all with practiced kindness, even as doom lurked behind you.
“Just a few more hours,” you mumbled, taking refuge in a damp alley. “I can visit the old pond… perhaps the frogs will be out.”
Nodding, you slipped back out with a ducked chin, walking quickly through the crowds until so little as three people were around and the the stone streets faded into soft dirt paths underfoot. Through sparse trees and lonely wood, you made your way to the duckpond on the outskirts of the city. Not a soul around; perfect.
You plopped yourself on the ground and hugged your knees to your chest, oblivious to the dust curling around you. Maybe, if you stayed right there all day, no one would find you. You could sit through the whole ceremony—through the whole year, till weeds crawled up your limbs and rocks were surfaced by the winds. You’d become part of this pond when the rain fills it beyond the banks, dissolving into an urban legend of what happens to heartbroken young women.
You smiled for the first time in many weeks. That fate sounded as lovely as anything.
The reverie broke as voices crept up behind you. Peeking over your shoulder, you spotted two entities: the first being the constable, and the second farther behind him. This group of people was more like a gaggle, or perhaps a rabble, their boisterous tones causing the constable to cast them a glare.
You jumped to your feet before he could face forward again and darted toward to big oak tree you used to climb in your youth, skidding to a halt right behind it. The constable was good friends with your fiance and would surely escort you back home the instant he saw you.
“Are you sure we can fish here?”
“I’m sure no one’s told us we can’t.”
“Sanji!”
One of the voices, presumably the one called Sanji, laughed in reply while their counterpart grumbled under their breath. Part of you felt the need to jump out and warn them against it, because surely the constable would be quick to apprehend them. But then he would also surely apprehend you.
“Sirs,” the gruff voice of the constable barked, right on cue. “Fishing in this pond is strictly prohibited. It’s for viewing only by law.”
The one called Sanji clicked his tongue. “Is there some sort of sign we missed? Because there’s no warning stopping us.”
Oh, dear. “I’m here to stop you. Now please, put away your tack and gear.” There were a few indignant huffs, but no rustling of a confrontation. Good, good…
“Right. Now, have either of you gentlemen spotted a young woman about?” The constable proceeded to give your exact description, spiking a panic within you. The search party had already begun. “No? Drat. Perhaps I’m at the wrong pond… Good day to you…”
You remained behind the tree for five long minutes, listening to the constable’s steps fade away and the conversation between the two men go on. Peeking out, you saw a tall skinny blond and a man with dark skin at the pond’s edge, fishing of all things.
Puffing your cheeks, you stepped out with crossed arms. “He told you it's not allowed!”
Their heads swiveled around, eyes wide and startled. The blond was the first to recover, his hold on the fishing rod slackening as an easy smile slid across his face. “My, my, what kind of nymph are you?”
Your cheeks warmed as his eyes scanned you up and down. “The angry kind.”
The other man quirked a brow, quicker than the other. “Was that guy looking for you?”
Alarms went off in your mind. “Never mind that, just don’t fish in my pond.”
“Whatever you say~”
“Sanji!”
Satisfied, you trudged off, letting their bickering be drowned out gradually. With the knowledge that the whole city now knew to look out for you, probably thinking the aloof noble girl just lost track of time, you took the long way around, slinking through dirty alcoves you once called your kingdom some years ago.
This whole city was your empire, in your mind. You and the other young girls and boys traipsed about without a care, creating your own world only the lot of you could see. You, of course, were high empress of all alleyways.
Growing up like this meant your mighty empire was toppled. All your old friends had new lives now, time ticking by with mundane tasks and masks to keep up. Many of them would attend your wedding, but they might as well be strangers now. Such was the way of your city. You get old and you lose your life.
A subtle burn welled up behind your eyes as you rounded a dark corner and found the old crates you’d formed into a palace, untouched and frozen in time as the curling alleys of the city grew dusty from neglect. You stopped short at the sight, quickly snapping back to reality and darting away, running as fast as you could to get away. Left and right, you were reminded of how expansive these alleys really were, and how easy it was to get lost in them.
Not that you would ever get lost; you’d cling to your memories as long as possible. You knew this place like the back of your hand, so it was a surprise when instead of a dead end, you turned to find a long alley leading out to the market. The scent of the baker’s stall and sweet rolls being sold wafted down to you, providing a momentary calm—before that laugh broke it all down.
Creeping back around the corner, you waited for the laugh to stop, peering around to find that you weren’t alone. Near the mouth of the alley, a boy stood clutching his chest, laughter fading even as he glanced out onto the street. For just three whole seconds, you swore he was something out of a novel.
Pretty face scarred on one side, but it didn’t make him any less to look at. Hair windswept despite the stillness, clothes ratty in some places and newly stitched up in others. Whoever he was, you’d never seen him before, so where exactly did he come from?
“Hey.” You blinked widely, realizing quite too late that you’d been caught. Locked in severe eye contact, you ever so slowly retreated back around the corner, flattening yourself against the wall. Maybe if you didn’t breathe, he’d think he hallucinated and walk away.
“Hey,” that boy said again, closer now. “What’re you doing?”
You didn’t make a sound, flush against the wall as if trying to disappear even when his face appeared in your peripheral. He blinked, waiting for you to do something. “Why’re you being so weird?”
“I, well…” You glanced around, anywhere but his face. “I was taking a walk.” You tensed up, held your breath, and blurted, “I don’t talk to strangers!”
You stared hard at the ground, hoping that he’d think you were crazy and walk away, but then the boy laughed at you. Gasping softly, you raised your head and gazed at him softly, lips parted slightly. Nobody had ever laughed at you before, at least not to your face like this boy, heaving as his chuckles faded.
“You’re talking to me anyway.” He had you there. His eyes glinted despite the sun being obscured by the tall buildings.
“I…”
He thrust out his hand suddenly. “I’m Luffy.” His hand, his face. His hand, his face. Your eyes darted back and forth until you finally settled on his hand. Dirty, that was the first thing you noticed, and then the callouses. You’d only seen hands like that on a sailor.
You blinked back up at his face, locking in on his eyes. Sailors weren’t to be trusted. They took young girls’ hearts, along with something more personal, and set back off to sea. That’s what your mother said, but you had a feeling your mother had never seen someone like Luffy before. You’d never seen anyone like Luffy, so bright he could’ve been the sun itself. You took his hand quickly, shaking it firmly, and introduced yourself.
Luffy chuckled. “Now I’m not a stranger.”
You couldn’t help but crack a grin. “I suppose not. Do you sail?”
“How’d you know?” Luffy tilted his head, leaning back on his heels, and you forgot how to speak. Luffy wasn’t too bad to look at. He was unlike any of the handsome boys you’d seen in court, sure, but that didn’t matter. Perhaps it endeared you more. Luffy, whoever he was, was different from everything you knew.
“You hands, I suppose. They’re like a sailors’.”
His laugh was odd, like a shi-shi-shi sound, prompting a stifled snort out of you as well. “Yep! I’m a pirate!”
Instantly, your whole face dropped, frozen in place. “Oh… that’s… something.”
Pirates were very different from regular sailors. They stole and pillaged and plundered and did many other terrible deeds. Your great-grandfather had been killed by a pirate… but you’d never known him. It’s all hearsay. Besides, Luffy didn’t look like he would ever think of maiming you. He looked like your next good friend, even if just for now.
“Your crew is here, then?” you asked, moving to sit atop a set of crates along the wall. Luffy jumped as he followed, plopping in the dirt in front of you instead.
“Mhmm. They’re… somewhere.” He snickered. “We just left Alabasta, y’know.”
You leaned forward to gawk at him. “So you saw what happened? With Crocodile? It was crazy.”
Again with that strange laugh of his. “Yep. I’m the one who beat his ass into the ground!”
“You—huh?” Tilting your head, his smile infected you, tugging at your lips. “So, you’re the savior of Alabasta? Not that marine?”
You sat in awe as he told you everything, going so far back that you learned exactly how he met Princess Vivi. By the end of an hour, you were on the edge of your seat, knees snug against your chest as Luffy described it all in grand detail.
“Wow… that sounds amazing. Not the part where you nearly drowned in sand, but you know.” Resting your chin on your knees, “You must feel so… free out there.”
Luffy nodded quickly, eyes unfocused for a moment, staring at the unseen. “Yeah. It’s amazing.”
Your smile grew dim and melancholy. The bells of evening rang in the distance. “Thank you for telling me your story, Luffy. You didn’t have to do that.”
He shrugged one shoulder, his expression one you could only call cute. “You wanted to know… what’re you so sad for?”
You hummed, startled. “I’m not sad.”
“Are too,” he said, eyes narrowed. “So what is it?”
For some time, you didn’t say another word. Luffy stood now, hands planted on either side of yours knees as he stared right at you. It wasn’t threatening or seductive, simply curious in a way you’d never witnessed. Like he truly wanted to know. And so, you told him.
“I’m getting married. Today.” You shut your eyes and grimaced. “And I don’t want to, but I have no choice.”
“So… don’t?”
You reeled back. “Did you not hear me? I have to.” Luffy only tilted his head as you scoffed at the sky. “My only choice is to comply with the path set before me. If I stray too far… I can’t stray too far.”
You hardly realized how angry you’d gotten till Luffy’s finger poked at your forehead once, twice, three times. You blinked slowly. “What?”
“I don’t really get it,” he said. “But you seem pretty sure.” He was right in your face, oblivious to the fluster rising in your face. And then he smiled a beaming smile. “Hey, why don’t you—”
“There you are!” A coil formed in the pit of your stomach, eyes slowly drifting to the mouth of the alley. The constable stalked toward you looking as relieved as he was pissed off. “Your mother’s been sending everyone out for you, miss. Have you lost your mind?”
“Sorry, sir,” you mumbled, ignoring how Luffy stared at you all perplexed-like. “I’ll… I was looking for some flowers for the parlor. Didn’t find a patch in bloom. I’ll head back now.”
The constable stepped forth, not yet noticing Luffy. He began to loom over you, and only when Luffy inched closer to your side did the constable’s gaze flicker to him. Disgust was the only word to describe how the constable looked at Luffy. “Let me escort you home, miss. Wouldn’t want you to lose your way again.”
You looked between the two of them nervously. “Of course, sir.” You stood from the crate and moved to follow the constable, hoping beyond hope Luffy would forget the entire ordeal, for his sake. The constable was going to forget all about your new friend, if only Luffy stayed quiet.
“Hey.” You tightened every muscle in your body. “Who’s she marrying anyway?”
The constable jerked to a stop, his deepset brow furrowing.
“Only the most powerful man around,” the constable replied very carefully, very calculated. He sized the boy up. “She’s very lucky to be marrying Mr. Toleson.”
“Let’s go, sir,” you insisted, daring to hook your arm through the constable’s and nearly drag him away. He dug his feet in. “Introduce me to your friend, miss.”
“He’s—he’s not my friend,” you blurted, eyes glued to the ground. “Sir, let us go. I’ve made us late enough. I have to prepare—”
Luffy took a daring step forward. “You shouldn’t have to marry someone if you don’t want to.”
The constable gritted is teeth, hand closing around your arm. “What would you know about what she wants?”
“Let’s go—”
“She doesn’t like this Tole guy,” Luffy persisted. Your eyes pleaded with him, but he wasn’t looking at you, sight set on the tall man beside you. “So she shouldn’t marry him. Tole-y can find someone who actually likes him if he’s so desperate—”
“Shut. Up.” Dangerous. Your tone was dangerous, wide glare moreso. Luffy silently eyed you, looking right through to your soul. “Goodbye. We have to go. Places to be. Come, Constable.”
Halfway turned, the constable kept one eye on your friend, feet slowly following after you—when Luffy reached out, grabbed your shoulder, and tried to tug you to his side. You whipped around to smack him, but your palm swiped at air.
Luffy stood five feet back, his arm stretched beyond comprehension and latched onto your shoulder.
“What the…” Head foggy, you barely registered the click of a gun till it rose in your peripheral. Everything went by far too quickly, and suddenly you stared down the head of the constable’s pistol, gasping like you hadn’t a clue how you’d got there.
“Get out of here, Luffy,” you ordered, not taking your stare off the constable. “I won’t say it again.”
He was gone when you finally chanced a look over your shoulder. The constable swiftly took your arm in a vice and led you onto the street, holstering his gun and muttering, “Street rats have no place here.”
“Sea dog,” you corrected absently, quite out of your own head. “He’s a pirate, so, sea dog.”
As if that would cease his endless muttering.
You were shut inside your house and shuffled away to a sunny parlor, tended to by maids you’d known since birth, their chattering unable to draw you out of your stupor as they powdered your face and tightened a corset round your waist till the room started spinning.
Meanwhile, a pirate boy returned to his friends, not sparing their newly caught fish a second glance as he asked Robin if she’d heard anything about a wedding in the city. The archeologist grinned as if she knew precisely what had transpired in that alley, though she couldn’t possibly have.
At any rate, the notorious Straw Hat pirates now prepared to act on their captain’s whim, not one of them questioning when he said his “new friend” was in trouble.
જ ⁀ ➴
The carriage ride to the chapel was so you bumpy you were half convinced the driver did it on purpose. You sat wobbling from side to side, eyes glazed over, and you let your mind drift away—you became a specter, wandering blindly till you blinked, and you stood in a sunny side-room, waiting to be fetched for the altar.
Your arms like gooseskin, you peered into a spotless mirror despondently. Your hair was done up prettily, face caked in different powders and creams. The sickening scent of rose perfume surrounded on all sides. The dress fit nicely, not too tight, not too loose. Perfect. Not a thing was out of place.
It all set in at once; by the end of the hour you’d be Mrs. Toleman. Your mother would receive all the benefits, all the praise. She’d smile and really mean it. Your husband would be free from bankruptcy, your family’s massive inheritance given to him the moment you say, “I do.” You’d stand on his arm the rest of his life, the perfect ornament, so quiet and dull.
An older woman fussed over the tears dotting your lashes, roughly swatting them away with her handkerchief, chastising you for such childishness.
“If my daughter were in your position,” she said after nearly gauging your eye. “She’d be ecstatic.”
You gazed quite darkly. “Your daughter was in my position,” you whispered, causing her to freeze putting away her handkerchief. “I’m sure you recall her escaping to the circus very clearly.”
A sharp gasp. A drawn hand. Your mother stepped into the room, flustered beyond compare, and the maid resigned to fume quietly. You wished she would slap you. Perhaps the strike would redden your face so much that the whole thing was called off.
“Well,” your mother exasperated, eyes raking down your form. “I hope you’re ready. Look pleasant.”
She weaved an arm through yours as a bouquet of lilies was shoved in your hands. A sneeze crawled up your nose and died as you held your breath, for the next moment you faced two long and full rows of people you’d never met and would never see again.
Despite the petals and music and lovely weather, it felt very much like a funeral march. The empty faces of the guests chilled you to the bone, not one of them sparing even a grin. A few checked their watches. One boy tugged on a young girl’s pigtail, and the girl was swatted for disturbing the peace. A ginger girl fought with a green-haired male in one of the farther pews. Against the far wall a blonde caterer absently smoked a cigarette. Somewhere, a bird sounded like it was dying, crooning a sad song.
This damn city. These damn people. You’d die here, physically, spiritually, and mentally so. White hot panic welled up within you, but it was far too late to even think of darting for the door; you stood before your groom, gazing blankly into his chest.
You felt as if you were dying, a life so short flashing before your eyes as your hands were taken into the clammy grasp of Mr. Toleson. He wore no smile, no warmth upon his face. Only cold indifference. You hoped you looked the same, lest he spy your terror.
The officiator droaned on meaningless words, warbled by your dazed mind. Only when your hands were squeezed harshly did you refocus, blinking widely.
Clearing his throat, the officiator shuffled uncomfortably. “Do you take this man to be your husband?”
Were you at this bit already? Heart thundering, you didn’t dare to look at Mr. Toleson, panicked gaze flickering to the now bated audience. Every eye stared at you, boring into you fiercely, only worsening your condition.
“I…”
Mr. Toleson gripped you tightly, painfully. He gritted out just for you to hear, “You what? We haven’t got all day…”
“I–I…” A gulping breath. A flash of red ribbon and straw. Cutting your eyes across the room, you settled on a boy near the back of the pews, a grin emblazoned on his face. He caught your eye and held it fast. You hardly believed your eyes, yet understood in an instant.
“Miss,” said the officiator.
Luffy tilted his head, as if asking are we doing this? You chanced a flicker of a smile.
You ripped your hands from Mr. Toleson’s sweaty grip, eyes wide and childish smile inching across your face as the room filled with sharp gasps. Gaze flickering up to Mr. Toleson’s aghast expression, you lurched back three, four, five steps till your heel met the edge of the raised platform. As you slipped to the floor a hand settled on the small of your back. The caterer planted his feet beside you, face grim as he gritted down on his cigarette.
“Are you alright?” he muttered. You gave a quick nod.
The point of no return had come, and you’d taken the path once blocked by a landslide, the path you’d dismissed entirely just an hour ago. Your mother gasped your name, a hissed out word, drawing your gaze quickly. She was deathly pale, like she was about to be sick. No sympathy of yours rose to meet her, none at all, and the freedom of two words boomed from your chest.
”I don’t!”
Silence. You heaved in a breath of air, and no one said a word. Like time had stood still. A litheful, frightening laugh ripped through the church and everything sped up all at once.
“Why… you…” Mr. Toleson’s face rivaled the ripest of tomatoes. He hadn’t so much as taken a step when the caterer whirled around and kicked him right in the chest. He blew his hair out of his face and stomped out his cigarette, looking like he’d done this twelve hundred times before. You started to think he wasn’t a caterer at all.
“I’ve seen you before,” you thought aloud. Chaos erupted all around, guests rising from their chairs in a panic, and you just couldn’t put your finger on it. “Oh! You were at the pond!”
Sanji, that was his name. He dodged a punch from one of the quicker, bolder groomsmen, an easy smile on his face. He faced you with his hands shoved in his pockets. “That’s your priority, love?”
You flushed, whether from the tease or endearment, you didn’t know. “Well—”
“You!” your mother’s shrill voice cut the air. You turned just in time to catch her pouncing at you, her hand clawing for your arm. Her nails barely got close to scratching you when a hand branched out of her chest and drove her back by a vice around her neck. Somebody screamed as guests began a mad rush to escape the inevitable fight; everyone had the same guess—pirates.
You’d never been so happy, even with the disembodied hand issue.
Mr. Toleson rose to his feet, nursing his chest, his eyes aflame. He whirled on the groomsmen. “Don’t just stand there!”
Just like that they broke out of their daze. Not just the groomsmen; the constable shook himself out of his shock as several other burly men of the town rallied together.
You inched backward as dozens of eyes settled on you, heart quickening, when out of nowhere that ginger girl from before rushed up with a bow staff and gave several groomsmen severe head trauma. The green haired man drew out three swords. That other man from the pond jumped over a pew, a slingshot in hand. And a tall, graceful woman stared down your petrified mother.
Only those willing to put up a fight were left, leaving only the rougher men of the town and the pirates--Luffy's pirates.
Sanji flung an attacker off his back and sent the guy flying your way, wiping the smile from your face as you yelped and dodged. You scurried off to the side, nearly tripping head over heels in your dress, having to hike up your skirts as you twirled in and out of the swiftly rising rabble.
Luffy’s marksman remained unscathed at his vantage point, lining up a shot and letting it fly. You gasped delightfully when the constable was nailed right in the forehead and hit the floor unconscious. You found a place flush against the wall, and you beamed at the destruction.
Pews turned to splinters under the power of the swordsman. Refreshments scattered across the floor as the ginger was thrown into a table and jumped back up again. Flowers fluttered around as the raven haired woman used some kind of magic to extend her reach. And Luffy—he laughed through it all. People jumped at him with fists and clubs, yet he threw them all off like it was nothing. Perhaps to him it was.
You stifled another smile behind your hands. The people of your town were absolutely demolished by these pirates. These glorious, heroic pirates you would be thanking for the rest of your life—
“You did this.” In an instant your wrists were captured by your ex-fiancee. “Witch. Where’d you get the money to pay them, huh?”
“Let go,” you bit back, jerking away only for his hold to tighten, prepared for your escape this time.
He yanked you closer. “After everything I’ve done for your family—”
You spat in his eyes and kneed his crotch, watching satisfied as he crumbled to the floor. “Family my ass.”
You darted into the chaos without another word. Men lay unconscious every few steps, their bloody and bruised faces staring up at you. You tripped over someone’s leg, growled sharply, and took hold of your skirts. One by one you ripped off the layers of tulle, leaving you in your knee-length bloomers, dress reduced to the lacy bodice and shreds of fabric at your hips. Finally you yanked your heels off, hopping on one foot and then the other.
Right as you were about to drop your left shoe, the man of honor, some guy called Henry, made for you swiftly. Gasping, you gripped the toe of the heel and clubbed him over the head.
Someone grabbed your shoulder a second later. You shrieked and dropped to the ground, slipping out of the grip and rolling to the side. The swordsman appeared suddenly and cut the man down in one move. The body dropped beside you. You blinked, gasped, and let a delayed scream flee your lips. The swordsman reached to grab your wrist and hoisted you to your feet. “You okay?”
“Y-you killed him!” you cried.
“Relax,” he rolled his eyes. “I hit him with the hilt.”
Sure enough, the man only had a gash on his temple and some head trauma most likely. The swordsman looked you up and down briefly. “Watch out for the ero-cook lookin’ like that.”
You hardly cared if you looked indecent. “Where’s Luffy?”
He didn't get to answer—a laugh you quickly grew to recognize had you whipping around, eyes peeled.
His profile shone in the evening light bleeding from the windows. He stood with his head thrown back and eyes tightly shut, a blinding smile on his face. Transfixed, you wondered, not for the last time, if he was more than human.
When his laughter died down Luffy held his fists close to his chest and looked around as if searching for another fight, his gaze finding you. Your heart skipped, but his smile dropped deathly fast. You didn’t have the chance to wonder before his fist zipped a hair's breadth away from your cheek. You hit the ground instantly, head ducked between your knees. You might have remained there forever, wondering just what possessed him, if you were stupid for trusting him, overwhelmed by something akin to heartbreak—when two sandaled feet entered your sight.
“Hey,” he said, giving you deja vu. “What’re you doin’ on the floor?”
Eyes wide, chest heaving, you sprang to your feet and got nose to nose with him. Luffy merely blinked at you. “What’s wrong with you!? First, you help me, then you try to hit me! Why—Don’t touch me!”
He gripped your shoulders and spun you around in one fluid motion. All your sputtering got caught in your throat. Two feet away Mr. Toleson lay flat on his back with the worst bloody nose you’d ever seen.
One. Two…
You couldn’t help it; you laughed. Ugly laughed. Louder and more all-consuming than you ever had before. You tried to choke on it, only making the sound sizzle into harsh snickers.
Luffy felt like he was in a trance, watching you dazedly as he broke into his own fit of laughter.
“Gah!” Your mother bolted for the door, throwing a fretful glance over her shoulder. She paused, wove around a man limping for the exit, and dragged Mr. Toleson to his feet. Coughing, your would-be fiancée set his grim sights on Luffy. Your mother tugged him with her, more forceful now. “Come. She isn’t worth your life.”
Really, it shouldn’t have bothered you. She’d never done anything for you, yet—her words struck you oddly, fiercely. They were gone before you recovered. You glanced around at a loss as Luffy stood a strong pillar in your peripheral. Your eyes darted to meet him as the final pieces of your world crumbled to dust, and you found nothing but cool assurance; you sighed out a breath you’d been holding since you were ten.
“Good riddance,” you choked. Luffy’s lips ticked up in a smile. The figures of his friends came into focus as they gathered around in the wreckage of the church. Emotion tingled in every corner of your body. “Thank you, all of you. I’m… forever in your debt.”
That wasn’t all you wished to express by far. You’d been thinking it the whole while, perhaps even from the first moment you learned he was a pirate. The request teetered precariously on the tip of your tongue when the caterer cut you off.
“No need, madam,” he said with a flourish of his wrist. “Always a pleasure to assist.”
His eyes took you in gratefully, and he was quick to wipe away the small bit of blood leaving his nose. You grinned, almost grimacing, and gave an awkward laugh. “Of course…” Luffy’s shoulder brushed your own, drawing your gaze to him. His bright eyes had you wanting to reach up and brush his messy hair out of his face. Somehow, you refrained. “Just what kind of pirates are you? I didn’t think your lot were in the business of wedding crashing.”
Luffy shrugged his shoulders, barely smiling as he replied, “I like you.”
You choked on nothing. “Well—that’s—indeed.”
The silence of the room, only some harsh breaths breaking it, had you questioning what came next. Your adrenaline crashed all at once as your eyes got heavy and your shoulders sagged all at once. You rubbed at your eyes and suppressed a yawn, shivering as a breeze drifted by.
The ginger girl noticed the change at once, moving to your side despite her own exhaustion. “Let’s get you cleaned up. That can’t be comfortable.”
For some reason, you didn’t jerk away from her touch, so gentle and kind as she took your arm. “Yeah. Uhm, I can go to my servants’ quarters. They won’t say anything…”
The girl scoffed, catching your eye. “No way. You’re going to our ship.” She blanched a second later, backtracking. “If that’s okay with you.”
You watched for any sign of falsehood, and found none at all. You shook your head quickly. “No, that’s fine. Can we go now?”
The girl—Nami, you later learned—giggled and swiftly ushered you out of the wreckage and into the sun. You gave a soft laugh of your own, still very reserved yet filled with the tentativeness of someone realizing that everything would be okay.
And Luffy watched you leave, his lips tugging upwards subconsciously. He stood solidly as each of his friends followed after you, till only Robin remained. She had her arms crossed, head tilted low and eyes scrutinizing. She took in Luffy’s stance, his twitchy fingers, his eyes transfixed on empty space. All usual features on her friend; it was his dopey grin that gave it all away.
“Captain,” Robin spoke. “Everything all right?”
“Yeah,” Luffy nodded. He didn’t even stutter, his reply instant. “Why?”
She nearly chuckled, holding back if only to humor him. She nudged his shoulder with her own to spur him into motion, and the pair walked slowly into the streets.
“What do you know about your new friend?” she asked as they passed under a bakery sign squeaky as it swung with the wind.
He paused. “She’s fancy… and unhappy.” Luffy kicked a pebble and watched it skip all the way to the end of the sloped path. “Very unhappy. She’ll be happier with us.”
Robin’s heart went tender as she looked away, hiding a smirk. “Have you told her that?”
Catching her eye, Luffy smiled. “She knows.”
They caught up enough to spy the others as Usopp and Nami had their arms around your shoulders, bickering absently whilst you snickered quietly between them. Robin nodded, for who was she to argue? Besides, maybe you did. The smile on your face may have betrayed just that.
જ ⁀ ➴
You still heard the boisterous laughter of your new friends even as you swept away from the galley, heart beating a little too fast to be comfortable. They were amazing, sure, but overwhelming at best. All you needed was a moment and you could return unnoticed to the good food and warm company. As soon as you got some air.
You instinctively reached to pick up a skirt as you rose the stairs to the deck, only to grab at air, look down, and grin at the sight of Nami’s brown trousers.
The cool night breeze hit you like a wall the moment you stepped outside, shooting shivers down your spine. The saltiness of the sea clung to your skin and clumped in your hair, filling your nose with every deep breath of air.
The deck felt odd against your bare feet, grating against your skin just enough to make you wary of splinters despite the apparent fine craftsmanship of the wood. You leaned into the ship rail and gazed down upon the rolling waters. A soft and steady kussshhh kussshhh greeted you, a gentle sea spray kissing your cheeks.
So far, the sea was far greater than you’d ever conceived. Freedom rippled in every gust of wind billowing in the sails; the waves sang songs of grandauer; the stars winked secrets you couldn’t hear but felt in the creak of your bones. The music of the world had finally included you in its symphony, and you would never go back.
Never.
You heard him before you saw him, his bumbling, careless steps thumping against the deck. Luffy came up out of the belly of the ship, gazed around once, and settled his sights on you. You met eyes and simply existed; he smiled first; you returned a grin. Luffy approached with all the familiarity he shouldn’t have given you in such a short time.
“You disappeared,” he said too loudly, threatening to break the perfect silence settled around you.
“I did,” you whispered back. After pursing your lips, you turned back to the sea and waited, assuming he would take the hint. It took two seconds longer than you anticipated, but Luffy’s shoulder soon bumped against your own.
When he spoke again, he was softer, “How do you feel?”
You sucked in a lunfull of cold air and laughed it out. “Free. I didn’t think I’d ever feel like that again.”
He nodded, because he wanted to say so many things but at the same time had no clue what to say at all. Luffy had never experienced this before, being at a loss for words; all evening he’d dwelled in this confusion that only grew every time you smiled and he lost his breath. What was so different about you that all his words felt terribly redundant?
“Wow.” He turned his head quickly, blinking at you. You were already looking right at him.
“Huh?”
You shook your head, shy smile dripping in tease. “You’re quiet. I didn’t take you as someone to just dwell like this.”
How many minutes had passed? Luffy wasn’t sure, but you looked content, so he didn’t really care. His eyes danced all over your face, puzzlement laid in his brow. You tilted your head and began to worry about the cloudy look on his face.
“Can I ask you something?” you said. Luffy gave a wordless nod, still looking so lost. You wanted to touch him, the realization setting in suddenly, hand itching to grip his arm. “Why did you help me? You didn’t have to.” Crossing your arms, you turned to watch the curling white foam ripple off the ship. “It certainly made things harder for you. They might tell the Navy, and I can imagine that’s plain hell.”
“They won’t catch us,” he scoffed, catching your eye. “And like I said, I like you.”
Your lips pursed before you let slip a chuckle, face far too warm for your liking. He probably didn’t know what he was saying. “Right. How could I forget. Is that all?”
“You’re… funny.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Real funny. Odd. Makes me feel funny.” He said it with such nonchalance you wondered if he was joking, but the longer you stood and stared at your feet the more aware you were of his presence at your side. Finally, you lifted your head, finding him staring out to sea. He was one to talk about being odd. You hardly understood what was so odd about you; you felt fairly normal if you said so yourself—but that wasn’t exactly the point.
Because Luffy was confused after all, just like he looked to be. The conflicted boy never strayed far from your shoulder, his hand brushing yours every few seconds. You hardly knew him—you didn’t know him—yet you couldn’t deny the overwhelming trust clawing its way into your heart.
So, really, there wasn’t much more debate on whether you should ask.
“Let me stay.” “Join my crew.”
The pair of you whipped your heads around suddenly. Eyes wide, you smiled, bursting into laughter with him, leaning into his side so he was half holding you up, your forehead hitting his chest—you missed hugs, sighing deeply as his warm hands brushed your skin and—
Cold rushed up your spine. You jerked away, an apology on your lips, when Luffy grunted and reeled you back in. You hit his chest with a thump as his arms wrapped around you three times. Eyes wide, body stiff, his deep breathing enveloped you till all you heard was in and out, in and out, that steady yet unsure rhythm.
“I’d like to join your crew,” you said after a while.
He focused on the space ahead of him, hold loosening bit by bit. “I’d like you to stay.”
You pulled away, and this time he let you. “Somehow, I feel I’m making a grave mistake.” He tilted his head all puppy-like, so you reveled in his puzzlement. Spinning out of his arms you faced the sea again. “You’ll most likely get me killed, Captain.”
Luffy blinked rapidly, heart thudding at the sly grin planted on your profile. Captain. He liked that. He always did, but now especially—when it came from you.
“I won’t let that happen,” he said with such casualty. He stepped into your line of sight. “You do want to stay, don’t you?”
As if you had a choice, you mused. Even if you didn’t, it wouldn’t change a thing in your eyes. You smiled softly at him, a spark of wild excitement in your eyes. “More than anything.”
It started small, only a grin until it grew too wide to remain shut, his teeth shining seconds later. His eyes squinted, head thrown back, and you swore his laugh echoed to the very depths of the sea, encircling your whole being.
He fascinated you, filling you with this sense of freedom you’d never known before. Luffy was larger than life, and you stood there to witness his existence. Somehow, even then, you understood the gravity of who he would become.
What an odd pair the two of you made. Him so unrestrained and you so proper—though surely the longer you spent with him the less true that became. Neither of you really cared either way; you found the other wildly fascinating, and in that moment on the deck as he blinded you with his smile, that’s really all that mattered.
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @100520s @kryscent
#one piece x reader#monkey d luffy x reader#luffy x reader#luffy x you#luffy x y/n#monkey d luffy x you#monkey d luffy x y/n#one piece drabble#one piece fanfiction
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Nothing in my head but with Levi after a wedding.
It was your friend's wedding, and you were the maid of honour. You were up since 5 in the morning. Making sure the wedding went on smoothly was challenging, but getting the wedding dinner ready was a nightmare.
The decoration company missed the red carpet, and they had to go back and get it. The catering people came in too early, the food might get cold too soon. The dessert bar person-in-charge was running late. You were pushing and pulling tables around to make sure there was enough space for the bride and groom's first dance. You went through the guest list again and again, crossing out names and qriting names again and again. 2 more people coming for table 3, another person from table 14 can't make it, a baby chair for table 8, vegan meal for table 9, and Mary from table 7 is lactose intolerant.
You paced around putting door gifts on each seat, making sure there was enough glasses for each table, replacing dirty napkins with clean ones. You even worked on the sound system with the DJ.
All this while, Levi was trailing behind you like a little duck. Helping you whenever he could. Table 5 and table 6 were too close together? He pulled them apart. Baby chair for table 8? He got it from the store room, and even wiped it down. Decoration company struggling with the red carpet? He got on his knee and helped with it.
Levi was there at the reception when you had to do your makeup before the dinner started. He ticked the names on the guest list, directed them to their respective tables, and gave out extra door gifts to children. When you stepped out of the powder room, Levi had seated almost everyone.
During the wedding dinner, photoes and videos of the bride and groom were shown on a big screen. Tears and laughter shared in the hall. And one of the bridesmaids caught the bouquet. You were tipsy at the end of the event. Drinking nothing but beer and wine as old friends kept toasting for whatever small reasons. You insisted on staying to help, but the bride and the groom ushered you home as they said "you're drunk, y/n, go home! You've done enough, and we can't thank you enough!"
As you walked, arms linked with Levi, stumbling barefeeted toward the lift. He was holding you steady and carrying your bag of trinkets (you said "just in case someone needs a nail clipper, or a bandage, or an extra pair of socks!") with your shoes dangling on his fingers. He helped you into the lift and pressed "G" at the bottom of the buttons. The doors closed, with only you both alone in the lift.
With your eyes closed, you leaned onto him. "What a busy day. Thanks for putting up with me, Levi." You turned your head, inhaled his scent of a mixture of sweet wine, salty sweat and clean shampoo before placing a kiss on his ear. You meant it for his cheek.
"Sad I didn't catch the bouquet," you pouted.
Levi snaked his arm around your waist and pulled you in. You fell onto him, your arms wrapped around his shoulders. You giggled at the sudden movement. "Levi!" Playfully, you slapped his arm softly. Your eyes locked, and you could see a clear determination in his silvery blue eyes.
"I will marry you, Y/n. I will marry you even without the bouquet."
The lift was quiet. You were breathing in the air he breathed out. You knew he meant it. And when he kissed you, you kissed him back. Fiercely. Passionately. Your palm on his cheek. His hand on the back of your head. You tasted him. You tasted his love. You tasted his promise.
And when the lift reached and the doors opened, you walked out, feeling like you just got married.
#levi ackerman#levi fluff#levi x reader#levi ackerman x reader#levi heichou#levi x y/n#midnight thoughts#levi x you#aot x y/n#levi ackerman x you#captain levi
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The table napkin that defines fine dining!
The Dynasty Murata Jet Napkin sophisticates your dining with elegance and functionality. It is crafted using advanced Murata jet-spinning technology, ensuring a soft, premium-quality fabric that blends durability with luxury. The substantial weight and refined texture make these wedding table napkins an outstanding choice for casual family meals and formal dinners. With high absorbency, it effectively handles spills and stains, maintaining its elegance. It is in the size of 20” x 20” to provide ample coverage and versatility to various table settings. Available in classic color to add a touch of class to your dining experience. The table napkins are machine washable, retaining their shape crispness even after countless washes. Elevate everyday meals, restaurants, catering services, cafes, and home uses with unparalleled soft and stylish table linens and impress your guests.
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Whole Lotta Love | Rooster x Reader
Summary: You and Bradley were just friends, and perhaps that was why you trusted him so much. It wasn't his fault that you were secretly harboring a crush a mile wide. When your noisy neighbor becomes too much and you decide you need to move, Bradley helps you brainstorm a solution. But when you set your plans into action, you're surprised to find that he seems almost jealous.
Warnings: Adult language, angst, fluff, drinking, mentions of masturbation
Length: 8600 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
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"I need to move."
Bradley looked up at your annoyed expression as you dropped your lunch tray a little violently onto the cafeteria table across from him with a clatter. The top piece of bread slid off your sandwich as you sat down with a pout.
"Like to a new apartment?" he asked, reaching over to straighten out your silverware and napkin. "Didn't we just help you move a few months ago, Sparrow?"
For some reason that set you off as your clenched fist bumped the edge of the tray, messing everything up again. "Yes, to a new apartment, Rooster! And yes, I just moved six months ago, but I can't take another day of this shit."
"What's wrong?" Jake asked where he was inhaling his food right next to you like he had a vendetta against it.
You sighed, and the sound was so soft and sweet compared to your frustrated expression, Bradley almost laughed. "The guy who lives above me is an aspiring wedding DJ. Do you have any idea what that means for my sleep schedule?"
"Oh shit," Javy groaned from your other side. "Are you getting Cupid Shuffle all night long?"
"Coyote," you whined, "he makes his own remixes! At four in the morning! When I asked him to stop, he said he was perfecting his artform, but that he'd turn the volume down a smidge. Meanwhile, I moved into my current apartment, because my old neighbors were hosting woodworking retreats in their living room!"
Now Bradley really was laughing. "You need a break? You can come sleep over at my place tonight."
You were finally smiling now as you said, "Thanks Rooster, but I've seen the wrong side of your couch before. I had a long, long night in your living room after the holiday party."
"So don't get drunk first this time," he replied easily, remembering that night vividly. You let him carry you into his house from his Bronco while you whispered the lyrics to Whole Lotta Love by Led Zeppelin really slowly to him. It was funny and somehow a little hot at the same time. He liked it a little too much. "Or you can just sleep in my bed."
Your eyes went a little wide. "With you?"
"Of course not," he replied quickly, hoping he wasn't blushing. "We're just friends. I could take the couch for one night so you can have a break. If you want."
You and he really were just friends. You were friends with all the guys. They all loved you and your humor, and you were a hell of a good WSO. Bradley didn't even fly with a backseater, but he always liked getting paired with you and Omaha. You had an ease about you, and it even translated to the way you took a massive bite out of your sandwich after you said, "Maybe I'll just sneak in and break DJ Insomnia's turntables."
Then you smiled at Bradley while you chewed your food, and Javy and Jake started to make up a song about DJ Insomnia. You laughed when they tried to rhyme 'slumber' with 'nightmare', but you were still looking at Bradley as if he was in on some inside joke with you. Your eyes twinkled when he nudged your leg with his boot underneath the table.
"Hey, I'll be more than happy to help you move again, Sparrow, but I think you ought to at least consider having me over around three in the morning with my keyboard. I'll bring these two idiots with me as well, and we can all sing at the top of our lungs until your neighbor moves out."
You tipped your head back and laughed. "Oh, Rooster. You're the sweetest, but he'd probably actually enjoy that."
Now Bradley was definitely blushing as he looked down at his lunch, and he wasn't really sure why.
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You gathered your things together for the night as soon as you heard your neighbor playing the Electric Slide. If he was already starting at seven o'clock, you needed to get out now. You shoved clean underwear and some random clothing into your backpack before you stopped in the bathroom and grabbed the essentials. Bradley's couch had never sounded better to you in your life, but if he felt like offering up his bed, then even better. Hell, you'd curl up in there with him at this point. What difference did it make? It wasn't like anything physical was ever going to happen.
He was one of the boys, and you loved them all. It wasn't Bradley's fault that his sun kissed skin and wavy hair were kind of your thing. If they were attached to another man, you'd probably have made a move, but he was your friend. Sure, you'd thought about it before, when you were alone in bed and it was very, very late. He was attractive and hilarious, and you were only human. But some things were sacred.
"Yeah, like peace and quiet," you growled as you stomped down your hallway. You grabbed your keys and headed out, zipping along to Bradley's house in record time. You were obsessed with his place which was complete with flower boxes underneath the front windows and a pink front door that he never seemed to get around to repainting even though he mentioned it all the time.
You hauled yourself up to his porch with your half zipped backpack and bad attitude and pounded on his door. You had a spare key somewhere in the bottom of your purse, but you didn't feel like digging for it. When he didn't answer, you pounded again, a little harder this time.
"Yeah?" he asked, his tone gruff as the door flew open. "Sparrow," he muttered, his voice much softer with your call sign attached to it. "Hey."
But you didn't register too much besides the fact that he was standing there in nothing but a pair of snug boxer briefs with damp hair and skin that smelled delicious just inches away from you. "Hi," you said, sounding as mesmerized as you felt. Golden tan. Sparse chest hair. Perfectly groomed mustache. You wanted to lick him. Where on earth did that urge come from? You never thought about dragging your tongue along his chest and neck and all the way up to his lips. Except that you had... very, very late at night.
Fuck.
It wouldn't be worth messing things up. You forced your gaze up to his brown eyes. "I'm here for our sleepover," you said with as much normalcy as you could muster, but the response you got was Bradley's cheeks turning pink as he leaned away from the doorway so you could step inside. Then you came to a stop and looked at him again. He smelled really good. Like maybe he was wearing cologne. "Oh. Were you heading out? Do you have a date?"
His cheeks grew redder. "Um, no. Not at all. Of course not."
His answer sent a little wave of relief through your body. "Good." You winced at your response as you continued to his couch and set your bag down. "I mean, do you want to order a pizza or something?"
He ran his fingers through his hair and nodded. "Yeah. Sure. Just let me get dressed. I'll be right back out."
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You actually came over. With your backpack full of your stuff. Bradley wasn't expecting you to take him up on his offer, and now he was doubly flustered; he actually did plan a last minute date, and he just jerked off in the shower while thinking about you.
"Oh fuck," he groaned as he pulled on a pair of jeans. He didn't start off thinking about you. It just kind of happened. At first, he was thinking about a faceless girl sitting on his lap with her hand in his underwear, and then suddenly she did have a face. Your face. And then she had your voice. And then he pictured the two of you on his actual couch. And it was definitely you giving him a handjob in his shower fantasy, and he came all over the tile wall like it was your face. He was lucky you didn't let yourself in with your spare key in time to hear him moaning your name.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he asked his reflection in the bedroom mirror. He looked wild. Slightly deranged. His pupils were huge, and his cheeks were hot pink. How the hell was he supposed to eat pizza with you while he was thinking about you on his lap?
But the fact that he wanted nothing more than to eat pizza and drink beers with you solidified the fact that he needed to cancel his date with Erin. He was so stupid for doing this. She was a viable option for someone to date. You were not. But he was apparently going to torture himself anyway as he texted her Hey, sorry this is last minute, but I need to reschedule.
He didn't wait for a response as he made his way back to his living room where you had already cracked open a can of beer from the refrigerator and made yourself at home on the couch. You were wearing what you always wore when you didn't have on a flight suit, just yoga pants and a baggy tee shirt. It shouldn't have been cute, but it was.
You smiled up at him as you nudged the unopened can of beer on the coffee table with your blue painted toenail. "I got you one."
He poked your foot with his finger and picked up the beer as he said, "Yeah, it's the least you could do since you helped yourself to my fridge."
When he dropped down onto the couch next to you, his weight on the cushions had you colliding into him. "Sorry," you murmured, your hand coming to rest on his abs as you pushed yourself back into place like it was nothing. Meanwhile, he broke out in a nervous sweat. "What do you want to watch?"
"Doesn't matter," he replied, handing you the remote. Then he grinned and said, "Or we could skip the TV, and I could get my keyboard out and play Cupid Shuffle for you. Maybe try my hand at a remix." You tipped your head back and pretended to cry before you started laughing. "What's the matter? I'm sure I'll sound better than your neighbor. Give it a chance, Sparrow," he teased.
You turned to face him on the couch, still laughing with your beer can resting against his bicep. "First of all, no. Please. No. Absolutely not. Second, has anyone ever told you how adorable it is that you have a keyboard that you actually play?"
"I tell myself that all the time," he replied, trying hard not to smile as you laughed. "I say, 'Bradley, you're adorable. I think it's so cool that you want to relive your piano lessons from middle school. Maybe you should get braces again, too.'"
You were cackling now as you gasped, "Stop it."
He sipped his beer and shook his head. "Of course nobody has ever said my keyboard is adorable. It's the nerdiest thing a guy in his thirties could possibly own, and only like five people in total know about it."
With tears in your eyes, you sucked in a deep breath. "I'm so happy I'm one of those five people."
"Yeah, well, keep it to yourself," he muttered with a smile as he took the remote back and turned on the Padres game. You were still giggling softly as you settled in next to him again. "You want pizza?" he asked.
"I've never said no to pizza," you replied easily, your thigh rubbing gently against his.
"My treat."
"You always say it's your treat. I'll get it this time."
"Nah, you've got to save up your money so you can move out of your apartment, remember?" he asked as he placed the order on his phone.
"How could I forget?" you moaned. "Your house is so nice, I wish I could evict you and move in here."
He set his phone aside and kicked his feet up onto his coffee table. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. "That would be a pretty rude thing to do to the guy who always buys your pizza."
Your side eye was impeccable as you said, "It's not like you'd be destitute. I'd let you live with DJ Insomnia. Now I just need a way to make money fast."
Bradley shook his head as the baseball game went to a commercial. "There's no such thing, Sparrow. Nothing legal anyway, and Uncle Sam pays your salary."
You were tapping your beer can with your finger and biting your lip gently, and Bradley's mind drifted back to his shower fantasy. You hummed softly, and he could practically feel the weight of your body settling onto his lap. That's what he wanted. You and he could finish this discussion with you straddling his thighs and his tongue in your mouth.
He should have gone out with Erin. He should have just admitted that he had a date and told you that you could hang out here while he was gone, because now he was getting his hopes up as your leg bumped his again. He knew he was blushing when he looked at you, so he turned back to the TV just in time for the beginning of a Hooters commercial.
"Wow," you mused with a little snicker as you gestured toward the parade of tits with your beer can. "That really got your attention."
Bradley rolled his eyes. "No, it didn't."
"Seriously? That's a lot of boobs, Rooster. You think we should contact the ad agency and tell them they should feature a few more?"
He turned and looked at you, and you started cracking up again. "I think it was actually just the right amount of boobs," he said, trying really hard not to look at your chest.
You forced your face into a neutral expression. "Do you like to go to Hooters?"
Bradley groaned and tried to stand up but you reached for his arm and tugged him closer to you instead. "Why do you think it's fun to pick on me?"
"I'm not really sure, but it's great," you replied. "Didn't all the guys go to Hooters for Jake's birthday?"
"Yeah," he replied with a laugh. "Jake got completely fucking wasted and proposed to our waitress. Then he tried to write his number on a napkin for her, but it looked like hieroglyphics. He even tried to follow her into the kitchen at one point, and Javy had to go get him. At least he left her a two hundred dollar tip for being so annoying."
You gaped at him and set your empty beer can on the coffee table. "Two hundred bucks? Oh my god, do you realize how fast I could buy my own place with guys like Jake around if I worked at Hooters?"
Bradley sat up a little straighter and watched as your eyes lit up while you watched the end of the commercial before the Padres game came on again. "You wouldn't want guys... fussing over you like that, would you?"
You kind of shrugged and said, "I can handle myself."
"That's not what I meant. I just-" He cut himself off. What was he supposed to say? Was he supposed to tell you he was already jealous just thinking about it? He definitely couldn't admit that. So instead he said, "Your boobs are too good for Hooters. You should keep them in your flight suit."
Now you were looking down at your body and running your hands up your belly to your chest, and Bradley was entranced as he watched you squeeze yourself through your tee shirt like it didn't even matter if he was there or not. You must have trusted him implicitly as you looked at him with sad eyes and said, "You're probably right. Guys know best about this kind of thing, and flight suits are a catch-all for making everyone's body look identical. Maybe it's better to just keep blending in."
He felt like a jerk, because that's not what he meant at all. He wanted to tell you that you were beautiful and that you'd probably make enough money in two weeks to buy the house of your dreams in those orange booty shorts and the tiny tops, but he couldn't. He wanted to kiss that little pout from your lips, but he wouldn't. Instead he said, "Let's keep brainstorming?"
"Yeah, thanks," you whispered, letting your lips brush against his cheek, and Bradley jumped about a mile into the air when there was a knock at the front door.
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You and Bradley had given up on the Padres game. Now you were turned so you were facing each other with pizza and paper plates and more cans of beer. "Okay, you hear how quiet your house is? You hear how nobody is annoying the shit out of you right now? No turntables or amplifiers anywhere?"
"Yeah," he said with a laugh. His cheeks had been perpetually pink all night, and it was really distracting. You had to keep reminding yourself that he thought you'd look better in your shapeless flight suit than in a Hooters uniform, and it kind of broke your heart every single time. But that's what you needed.
You forced a smile as you said, "I want this kind of peace in my life. So give me your best brainstorming ideas for how I can make some more money. Go."
"What about cage fighting?" he asked before he took an enormous bite of pizza.
"Cage fighting?" you balked. "Maybe you don't think much of my face, but I happen to like it the way it is!"
His eyes went wide and his jaw dropped open. "I do like your face, Sparrow. I was just joking."
He still looked concerned as you waved him off and asked, "What if I started bartending again? Like I did in college?"
Bradley shrugged. "You'll get just as many guys creeping on you at a bar."
You nibbled on your pizza crust and thought about your options. "What if it's the right kind of bar though? One with bouncers and security guards and everything, and oh my god! I've got it!"
"What?"
You watched him fold another slice of pizza in half and devour it as you said, "The Beauty Bar."
He froze with his mouth full and started shaking his head. "No," he said as soon as he swallowed. "That's like Hooters, but the girls dance. On the bar."
"Exactly," you told him, letting your hand rest on his knee. "Bigger tips and buffer security guards. Just think about it, Rooster. I could play one of the characters and have my own unique outfit. It's mostly just bartending, but the breaks for dancing would be so fun."
He looked a little constipated, and you almost laughed when he asked, "What kind of outfit?"
You tried to remember the girls from the only time you'd been there. "I think there was a cowgirl and a schoolgirl? Or like a dirty librarian?"
Bradley leaned a little closer to you and said, "Maybe you should reconsider the cage fighting. I could get you like a hockey mask to wear?" He ran his fingertip gently down the side of your face. "You know, to keep you safe?"
"I wouldn't last one round," you told him with a grin. "Besides, The Beauty Bar is mostly filled with bachelorette parties and girls having a fun night out. I think I'll call them or stop by tomorrow and see what they say."
Bradley dropped his hand from your face and muttered, "I'll keep brainstorming. You feel like watching a movie?"
"Sure," you told him as you stretched. "You pick since you paid for the pizza."
A few seconds later, your favorite movie was queued up on the TV, and you tried to get him to look at you, but he was actively avoiding doing so as he tried not to smile. You were halfway on his lap with your hands on his cheeks when he finally met your eyes. "Thanks, Bradley. For the pizza and for the movie and the sleepover and everything."
"You're welcome," he whispered softly. You thought about how good it would feel to kiss him, but you ended up laying on a pillow that was propped against his thigh instead. Less than halfway into the movie, you were sound asleep.
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Bradley didn't want to move. You were sound asleep with your cheek pressed to his thigh, and a tiny little spot of drool darkened the fabric of his jeans next to your lips. You had pushed the pillow to the floor, and you had reached for his hand while you dozed.
He'd had a full blown crush on you for a while now. It was useless to try to deny it. But you had him in the friend zone along with Javy and Jake and all the rest of the guys, and he was sure that if he tried to level up, you'd smash him right back down where he belonged.
You were so cute, finally getting the sleep you deserved. Clearly you trusted him, which made him feel important, but he wanted to be important to you in every way.
When he tried to slide off the couch, you snuggled against him harder. When he tried to wake you up, you moaned and snoozed on. He got himself awkwardly into position to pick you up, and he hoisted you into his arms. Your hand rested on his chest, and your lips met his neck as you mumbled, "I'm sleepy."
"I know you are, Honey." The pet name just slipped out, but you didn't complain as he stood there in his living room trying to stave off an erection as you snuggled against him. "I'm taking you to my bed. You'll be more comfortable."
"M'kay."
Then he was treated to your half asleep rendition of Whole Lotta Love where most of the lyrics were wrong and it was pretty much completely off key. But you were singing it right next to his ear, and once again, he liked it more than he should. When he set you down on his bed, you immediately burrowed under the blankets like you slept in his room all the time, and he watched you curl up on your side.
Your eyes were closed as you whispered, "Aren't you getting in?"
He wanted to. He knew the feel of your body well enough to know that he'd love snuggling with you all night. But this friendship meant something to him. "Nah, I'll be out on the couch if you need me."
You didn't respond verbally, but you did nod, and Bradley kissed your temple. Then he grabbed a blanket from his closet and left you alone. His thoughts were a complete mess as he stepped out of his jeans and tossed them on the coffee table. He stretched out on his couch as much as he could, but then he thought about you wearing a Hooters uniform.
"Don't do it," he warned himself, but it was too fucking late. The little orange shorts and the tiny white shirts had been nice on the other girls, sure. But on you'd, they would be lethal for him.
The idea of you dressed as a cowgirl doing a little dance routine on a sticky bartop wasn't much better. Guys would be throwing tip money at you and begging you to make their drinks. They would all want to chat you up and try to touch you. Bradley would go through the roof if one of them did. But if this is what you wanted to do and it was going to help you reach your goal, then he was going to have to be supportive, even if it killed him.
After barely sleeping most of the night, Bradley was finally dozing when you walked out into the living room the next morning. His blanket ended up on the floor at some point, but you came right over to him where he was overflowing from the couch in just his undershirt and boxer briefs.
"You could have slept in your bed, too," you whispered, brushing your fingers through his hair. "You're too big for the couch."
He noted that you were wearing your backpack as he melted into your touch. "Are you leaving? I thought we could grab breakfast."
Now you were smiling. "I'm gonna run. I'm planning to stop at The Beauty Bar later and see if they're hiring any new bartenders. Thanks for everything."
With that, you kissed his forehead, and Bradley's eyes closed as soon as you went prancing out his front door into the sunlight. "I'll keep brainstorming," he groaned.
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Your interview at the bar consisted of making three drinks and picking out a 'uniform' to wear. Some of the clothing was so tiny, it made the Hooters girls look modest by comparison. But they assured you that you'd love working there, so you accepted the position and took your new clothing home.
The first time you put on the black leather skirt that zipped all the way up the front along with the cropped shirt, you took it back off immediately. Could you mix cocktails in the outfit? Sure. Could you dance on the top of the bar for three minutes straight three times per night? Maybe not. But then you remembered that they told you some girls made up to five hundred bucks per shift. And then DJ Insomnia started on a remix of the Macarena right above you.
So you put the outfit back on again and decided that yes, you could do this. And maybe it would help to get a guy's perspective on the way you looked and your dance moves. You wanted to ask Bradley, but you didn't think you could handle the way he'd laugh about this. But there was something about the way he'd been concerned about you when you slept over at his place on Friday night. You almost felt protected. Cared for. God, you were already jealous of the woman he would eventually fall for, because she would be on the receiving end of all of his warm attention. And she'd get to live in that house with him. And he'd actually sleep in his bed with her, unlike the couch when you were there.
You rolled your eyes in the mirror and added some makeup to your face. This was so unlike you, falling for one of your friends. But you were tired of trying to fight it. And you still trusted his opinions. So you called him.
"Sparrow," he crooned when he answered your call.
"Rooster," you replied in your most matter of fact tone. "I was wondering if you could stop by for a few minutes and help me with something?"
"Right now?" he asked immediately.
You bit your lip before swiping some lipstick on while you said, "Whenever you have a chance."
"I'll be there soon."
He didn't let you down. He never did. Twenty minutes later, there were three taps on your apartment door, and then he was letting himself inside with the spare key you gave him months ago.
"Sparrow, it's me," he called out over the remix of Footloose. "Jesus. You weren't kidding. Your neighbor plays music like this all the time?"
"Yes," you shouted from your bedroom. "Constantly."
"I'm going to go up and have a little chat with him."
You were putting the finishing touches on your makeup as you said, "Don't bother. I've tried so many times. All he's done is lower the volume the slightest bit."
Bradley's sarcastic laugh from your living room made you smile. "I'm sure I can get him to do whatever I say."
That was undoubtedly the truth. You also didn't want him to get arrested. When you ran out to see him, you had forgotten what you were wearing as you threw your arms around his neck and hugged him.
Bradley's eyes were wide, and as soon as his hands settled on your bare waist, he pulled them right off again. "Holy shit. What the fuck is this?"
"Oh," you gasped, taking a nervous step away from him. "It's kind of my uniform. For my new bartending gig?" His cheeks were pink, his lips were parted, and he was gaping at you as he dragged his gaze up and down your body. "Is it bad?"
"Holy shit," he repeated. And then he said it one more time before he met your eyes. "Do you think it's bad?"
You winced and groaned. "I wasn't sure. But you're a guy. If you think it's awful, then I certainly don't want to wear it to my second job." He let out a strangled sound, and you started to turn back to your bedroom. "I'll stick to my flight suits."
You felt his fingers lace with yours before you heard his strained voice. "It's not bad, Sparrow. It's really fucking hot." You turned and looked at him, annoyed that you were feeling so vulnerable. He swallowed hard before he added, "You always look good."
He tugged you a little closer to him, and a smile found your lips. "I think I get it. It's hard to be objective when you're friends with someone. You'd probably like the outfit better on someone else."
Somehow his eyes went wider. "I really don't think that's it at all, actually," he whispered. Then DJ Insomnia started playing a remix that actually sounded good for once, and you tugged Bradley toward your couch with your linked fingers.
"Here, watch me dance real quick, and then we can just hang out."
"Okay," he grunted, taking a seat.
"Just pretend I'm someone else," you told him as you ran one hand down your side until your palm settled on your hip. You started to turn in a slow circle as you moved your hips to the music that made its way to your living room.
"I don't really want to do that."
You looked back at Bradley over your shoulder and caught him staring at your butt. "You don't?"
He shook his head slowly as you turned to face him, still dancing. "Hell no," he whispered, watching your face now. He brought his hand up to cover his mouth, and his dark gaze looked almost greedy, but he sat there and watched you dance, barely moving a muscle until you stopped along with the music.
"Well? What do you think?" you asked, holding your hands out to your sides.
He cleared his throat. "I think it's a good thing you don't have a boyfriend, because he'd already be jealous as fuck."
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You looked exhausted every single day now. Bradley started to bring you extra coffee from his own kitchen to try to combat your near constant yawning and fatigue each morning. You weren't just battling through sleepless nights at your apartment with DJ Insomnia, you were also working all day as a WSO and frequently working late into the night at the bar.
"I'm a little worried about you," he murmured one morning as you sipped the coffee he made. "You're working too hard, Sparrow." He didn't want to put voice to the way he felt about your bartending shifts. He made it a point not to stop by and see you there even though you'd asked him to. But he desperately wished you would quit. Every time he thought about you in your little costume with your red, pouty lips, he got more jealous inside. He could just imagine dozens, maybe hundreds of pairs of eyes on you, and he didn't like the way he wanted to be the only one treated to that sight.
"I'm fine," you replied softly. "I've already made thousands in tip money, and it's only been two weeks." You tried to smile up at him, but it didn't quite meet your eyes. "I mean, it's not the best scenario, because sometimes the patrons get a little rowdy. But it's not the worst thing. I'll just keep it up for a few months or until I get deployed."
Bradley grunted. "Explain to me exactly how rowdy they get."
Now you were sipping your coffee and staring at the patches on his flight suit instead of looking at his face. "Well, nobody is supposed to touch us. But sometimes guys do try it. Especially when we're dancing. The bouncers are great and all, but they can only get over there so quickly."
Bradley leaned down until you were looking him in the eye. He knew he was no better than some random asshole at the bar. He was probably worse since he thought about you dancing for him every time he took a shower. But he couldn't stand how apprehensive you looked when you talked about that place. You never looked like that when you were alone with him.
"I think you should quit," he told you blandly.
"It's not that bad," you replied. "Maybe I'm not doing a good job of explaining it. Come visit one night, and I'll buy you a drink."
"Sparrow, literally the last thing I want to do is witness every drunk asshole at the bar trying to look up your skirt."
You scoffed. "I wear little booty shorts underneath it!"
He closed his eyes and grunted, "I could have lived without that visual." It would just add to his shower time fodder.
"Oh! You should come on Friday night," you said, patting him on the chest. "I'll invite all the guys! There are drink specials. Hey, Javy!"
You wandered away, and soon Bradley's fate was sealed. Javy, Jake, Mickey, Reuben and Bob were all planning on going to The Beauty Bar for happy hour, and he was expected to be there, too. It wasn't like it was your fault he was falling for you, so he was just going to have to go and be supportive. He'd make sure all the guys left you massive tips, too.
You were still exhausted on Friday morning, and Bradley didn't like the way you were yawning as you loaded into your jet. You were quieter now at work than you usually were, and he was tempted to tell you to start sleeping at his place to try to cut out some of your stress. Having you close by sounded good to him as well.
Maybe he'd hang out at your bar all night and take you home with him. He could carry you to his bed before retiring to the couch and pretending he was also in his bed. Maybe you would even serenade him with the song. You'd get a good night's sleep and then this never ending friendship loop would start all over again.
If he could think of a way to break the loop and turn it into a straight line that led to a relationship with you, he'd take it. That was probably the type of brainstorming he should be working on at this point since you were already working at the bar now. He was still trying to think of a way to tell you how he really felt without destroying the friendship as he drove his Bronco across the city to the extremely popular Beauty Bar.
"You're kidding," he muttered. There was a line to get inside, and he told you he'd be here by eight o'clock when the dancing started.
"Holy shit," Jake said as he and Javy headed up the sidewalk and got in line with him. "I guess there's no shortage of guys who want to look at Sparrow."
Javy nodded in agreement. "I mean, I don't really want to look at Sparrow, but I'll gladly take all the other girls."
That was literally the exact opposite of Bradley's thinking. He couldn't give a shit who else was working, his eyes would find you and stay there all night. Whether you were serving drinks, chatting with patrons or dancing, he'd be focused on nothing but you.
The guys all got their driver's licenses out, and the bouncer muttered, "Don't want any trouble from the three of you," as he checked them.
Shit, what the hell kind of place was this if you got warned at the door on your way in? But when he walked inside and saw how crowded it was along with the two random girls doing a line dance along the bar, he could kind of understand. It was mostly packed with guys, and Reuben, Mickey and Bob were waving them over. Bradley moved slowly through the crowd, and then he found you in your cute little outfit handing someone a beer, and his heart stopped.
Your smile looked like it was pasted on, but once you saw Bradley, your whole face lit up. You waved to him as you bounced up and down behind the bar, clearly excited that he was here. He started throwing his elbows and shoulders around to get to you, passing all of the other guys in the process.
"Rooster!" you called out over the music when he got closer. The two girls danced across the bar between you and him, but his focus didn't waver at all as he matched your smile. "Do you want a drink?"
He shrugged and said, "I kind of just wanted to see you."
"Oh," you replied, looking pleased enough that Bradley decided to push the boundary just a little bit.
"I don't really like it here, actually. If at any time you feel like quitting your job, I'll take you right to my place and let you sleep in peace and quiet again."
You poured a beer and handed it to him. "You don't like the girls?" you asked, glancing at the boots as they went by again.
"Not those ones."
You looked him dead in the eye and asked, "Which ones then?"
His fingers flexed on his pint of beer as someone tried to jostle him out of the way to get closer, but he didn't look away from you as he said, "Come on, Sparrow." His voice was a little rough, and now you looked confused. He would do it. He'd ruin everything just so you knew. But he didn't want you to feel bad for him.
Then someone called your first name, and you and he both turned to see an older woman holding up both hands. "I'm on in ten," you told him, reaching out to touch his fingers where they rested on the bar. "Let me take a few more drink orders before I have to dance."
"Right," he said. It was better that you didn't know. You were trying to make some money here, and he was already messing it up by talking to you for too long. "I'll catch you later."
He wandered off in the direction of the rest of the guys. "Yo, that blonde is so hot, and she made my drink perfectly," Mickey was saying as he drank something that looked fruity and sweet.
"I'm an equal opportunity aviator tonight," Jake drawled. "I see a girl in a little outfit, she gets my phone number."
"You're delusional is what you are," Bradley told him as he sipped his beer. "All of you better leave Sparrow a massive tip. Seriously. I'm not kidding."
He listened to the guys chat as he turned back toward the bar to check on you. It was almost time for you to dance, and his stomach was churning with anticipation and anxiety. He'd been dying to see you move like that again, but he could do without the memory of everyone else knowing how you looked when you shook your hips.
Then you broke away from some guy who looked like a real tool who was reaching for you across the bar. You backed up and bumped into the mini fridge behind you and winced, and Bradley took a few steps in your direction. He memorized what that guy was wearing and what he looked like, just in case.
But now it was time for you to dance, so at least you were able to step away from him. One of the cowgirls was helping you up onto the bar, and the crowd started cheering. The opening notes to Whole Lotta Love started playing, and Bradley's arms prickled with goosebumps as you ran your hand down to your waist and shook your hips from side to side. You were moving just like you had in your living room, but all he could think about were the times you sang this song to him. He wanted all of it to be just for him. He wanted to touch you the way you were touching yourself. He wanted to taste the sweat that glistened on your neck.
His jealousy flared, burning bright inside of him as he watched everyone crowd the bar as you strutted along with a smile on your face. And once again your smile brightened when you found him, and then you mouthed the lyrics, 'Way down inside, honey you need it. I'm gonna give you my love. I'm gonna give you my love.' You mouthed the words to him.
Bradley grunted. His body felt like it was pulled taut like a rubber band, about to snap. You stopped at the end of the bar and did a little twirl as the crowd sang along to the song, but you kept your eyes on him. Your lips perfectly formed every word, and he'd never forget this feeling for the rest of his life.
Then you turned away from him, and he instantly missed the way you were subtly giving him your attention. He moved forward a little bit through the crowd, wanting to get closer to you. When you spun around again, he saw you looking for him, and your smile wavered.
"Sparrow!" he called out, and when you found him again, you laughed. And he laughed, too. But this must have been the breaking point in the evening, because Bradley got hit in the shoulder as a fight broke out to his right. Everyone got shoved forward, and a random glass of beer hit the bar. You tried to jump out of the way as your feet got soaked, and then your boss started yelling at you to keep dancing. Now when you looked at Bradley, you were no longer smiling.
He called your first name this time as you tried to step over the wet part of the bar and continue to the other end. Bradley saw him before you did. That asshole guy was back, and he smiled as he looked up your skirt. Bradley fleetingly remembered you told him you wore shorts under your skirt, and he really hoped you had them on tonight. But that wasn't the end of it, because now he was reaching out for your foot.
"What the fuck?" Bradley shouted, handing his glass to a stranger as he tried to get to you. With that asshole's hand firmly wrapped around your ankle, you started to waver. You were nine feet up in the air, surrounded by glass bottles, and he knew he was closer to you than any of the bouncers.
"Stop it!" you shouted above the music as you tried to pull yourself free, but that guy was unrelenting. You took one more awkward step before your body turned sideways. You were about to fall off the bar. Bradley fought his way forward as you tried to correct yourself, but it was too late, now it looked like you were going to land on your wrist on the bar, and probably break a bone.
Bradley lunged just in time, and thankfully you saw him. You trusted him, and right now he could see that fact in your eyes. You let yourself fall forward into the crowd. Into his open arms.
"Oh my god, Bradley!" you gasped as your arms wound around his neck and legs wrapped around his waist, clinging to him. You were shaking.
"I've got you," he promised as the song played on. He wanted to throw that guy up against the wall, but he was too content holding you to him as you buried your face against his neck. Letting go of you wasn't really an option. He wrapped one big hand around your thigh while the other squeezed your waist. "I have you, Sparrow."
Jake and Javy were there now, and Bradley nodded to the guy who grabbed you. He'd let them take care of it, because now your lips were brushing his ear. "That was terrifying," you whispered, and someone finally changed the song while another dancer climbed onto the bar.
Bradley made the decision to carry you outside into the cool night, walking slowly down the block where it was quieter as you caught your breath. "Are you okay now?" he asked softly.
You nodded against him, and when he adjusted you in his arms, you quickly whispered, "Please don't put me down yet."
"I won't," he promised before pressing his lips to your collarbone. You whimpered, and he couldn't help it. He said, "I don't ever want to put you down. And for the record, I don't want you to dance here anymore either. I never wanted you to."
You lifted your head away from him, and Bradley practically melted as your fingers tugged through the hair at the back of his head. Your lips were pouty, and your eyes were trusting as you asked, "You never wanted me to?"
"Absolutely not."
"Why not?"
He knew he had to say it and risk ruining everything, because pretending like this friendship with you was enough was actually hurting him now. He looked at your pretty face as he said, "Because I'm in love with you. And I'm selfish and jealous, and I don't want a bunch of other guys watching you dance around in this little outfit. Dancing around to my song."
"Bradley." You leaned closer, and you didn't stop until your lips were on his. This was better than he thought it could be, already so comfortable around you. Already addicted to your voice and the way you felt in his arms. Your fingers tightened in his hair as you kissed him, parting his lips with yours until you were tasting him. When you pulled away with a little moan, you whispered his name again while you ran your thumb along his mustache.
"Why did you dance to that song?" he demanded gently.
You pressed another kiss to his mouth before you said, "It made it less scary to get up on the bar when I was listening to a song that reminds me of you."
"Why?" he demanded again.
Then you very easily and simply said, "Because I'm in love with you, too."
"Honey," he sighed against your lips, smiling this time as you slowly unwrapped your legs and slid down the front of his body. Once you were standing on your own, Bradley let his hands fall to your hips, and you wiggled yourself snug against his body.
You felt just like his shower fantasies and all of his other fantasies, if he was being honest with himself. He thought about you all the time. You nibbled on his lips and dragged your fingers through his hair until he was frankly afraid he was going to get hard in his jeans right here on the sidewalk. He pried his lips from yours, making you pout, and he chuckled as he said, "Sparrow, you're killing me."
Your pout grew more pronounced as you said, "I want you to call me Honey again."
His smile must look ridiculous now as he said, "Honey."
"That's better," you said as your lips curled into a grin. "Let's get out of here."
"Do you think you should go back inside first?" he asked, hoping you'd just ditch the whole thing with him, but you nodded in response.
"Yeah, good idea. I'll go quit in person," you said, taking his hand in yours.
He stood his ground in response, and you weren't able to move him, but one tug on your hand and you were headed right back to his arms. "Excellent. As soon as you do that, we can talk about how we aren't friends anymore."
"We're not?" you asked, and as soon as that pout started returning, Bradley leaned down and kissed you.
"Hell no," he whispered against your lips. "You're gonna be my girlfriend. And I'll be your boyfriend. And I'm going to take you back to my house. And this time when I carry you to bed, I'm going to stay there with you all night. If that's cool."
"It's so cool," you promised him, and this time when you tugged on his hand, he followed you back up the sidewalk. "It's almost as cool as a man in his thirties who has a keyboard."
----------------------------
You were honestly impressed by the way the other guys weren't phased at all. Maybe it was obvious that you and Bradley belonged together, but none of them found it surprising that you were suddenly a couple. It really wasn't sudden at all in your mind though. There was a slow build of trust and appreciation over time that turned physical as soon as Bradley admitted he was in love with you. And four months later, none of it had let up. In fact, you couldn't get enough, and neither could he.
"That's it?" he asked, pointing to the single box left in your trunk.
"That's it," you told him as you picked it up. And then he picked you up and carried you toward his house while you laughed. You passed the planter boxes full of flowers and went through the pink door.
"Then it's official. You live here now. Welcome home, Honey."
"Oh please," you replied as he set you down. "I've been unofficially living here for months."
"All thanks to DJ Insomnia," he whispered, leaning down and placing an absolutely filthy kiss on your lips.
You moaned. "I owe him so much."
Bradley shrugged and said, "I think we would have eventually arrived at the same conclusion regardless."
"What conclusion would that be?"
"That you're in love with me."
You wanted to deny it, but you couldn't. "Help me unpack the rest of my clothes and shoes so we can explore another one of your shower fantasies."
Bradley moaned and said, "Absolutely. I'll meet you in the bedroom. I just need to get something first."
That's how you ended up putting your clothes on hangers while Bradley resurfaced a few minutes later with his keyboard. Instead of helping you in any way, he sat on the bed and started playing Whole Lotta Love.
"I asked you to help me," you told him with a laugh as you tossed a pair of your shorts at him while he played. "You're worse than DJ Insomnia."
"Just for that, you get a remix too."
---------------------------
I'm not exactly sure how "Sneak Peek: Bradley's Version" ended up happening, but I hope you enjoyed it. I might like it even better than the Jake fic! Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
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𝒂𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆 - 𝒑𝒕. 2
five hargreeves x reader
word count: 1.7k
part one. part two. part three.
summary: after you discovered a deli full of alternate versions of your cheating husband, you realize they would never hurt you the way he did. once he finds you getting comfortable with another version of him, you'll have to work together to figure out how to save the world.
authors note: thank you so much for all the notes on part one! i appreciate it so much since i thought no one would ever see it. here's the highly requested part two, enjoy!
You could tell it was him right away. Your Five had burst into the deli like he was crashing a wedding. When you walked in, every Five had a look of awe displayed across his face, but now that look was replaced with anger and disappointment.
You could tell Five had shrunk a bit under the gaze of his counterparts yet he firmly walked over to the booth where you were sitting with the new Five that you had been talking to. He had a shameful look in his eye yet held a stoic visage. Glancing down at your gentle hands still firmly held in the palms of the other Five, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked between the two of you.
“What- what is this?” He scoffed in an annoyed manner, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing yet somehow he knew exactly what was happening.
The Five across from you gently released your hands as his eye twitched and he stood up and faced your Five. Even though they were both exactly the same height, you could tell they were challenging each other by standing up a little straighter, your Five standing slightly on his toes.
New Five had an angry clench in his jaw yet held a slight smirk. He addressed your Five in a low tone, “You must be a fluke if you think you can just apologize and win her back because there’s not a single Five in this room that would hurt her the way you did.”
You looked up at the two of them from your seat in the booth. You hadn’t mentioned how your Five had hurt you, what he’d done to lose you. How could this Five have known? Still however, you appreciated his defense. You had always thought it’d be pathetic to see two guys fight over you, but to see two versions of the same man, one who has hurt and wronged you and the other who holds an unconditional and undying love for you, it ignited a spark in you that you thought you’d never feel again in your existence.
Existence.
Once the new Five finished his sentence you could see the offense on your Five’s face as he prepared a rebuttal but you shut that down quickly.
“Enough,” you held a hand out as if to break the aggressive tension between them, “this is irrelevant. We need to discuss a plan.”
Your Five took this as an opportunity to occupy the seat next to you in the booth but new Five beat him to it by pulling him back by the arm and sliding in next to you, as well as placing a hand on your thigh.
Your Five was taken aback by the action yet quickly regained his composure as he settled into the seat across from the two of you.
Waiter Five stopped by once again to drop off another mug of coffee for your Five as well as to top of your mug and Five’s. You thanked him and took a sip as he waltzed away with a wink. You watched as your Five took a sip from his mug which he immediately spit back out. The deli of Fives erupted in laughter as both you and your Five looked around confused.
The Five sitting next to you whispered an explanation in your ear, stating that Waiter Five had poured a couple of salt packets into his coffee rather than sugar. You grinned and hid your laugh in the shoulder of the Five next to you, him still facing you, your foreheads nearly touching. Your Five watched with a heartache as he dabbed his mouth with a napkin and set it back down on the table.
The laughter had mostly died down, excluding a very sloshed and disheveled looking Five who continued to chuckle and hiccup while leaning against a door.
You were still leaning slightly onto the Five next to you as he spoke, “So I take it you figured out the subway system by now”
“Alternate versions of the same moment in time?” Five asked.
“Correct,” the other Five responded, “We’re all you from alternate timelines. Most of us here have given up on trying to fix the broken timeline.”
Your Five listened with a befuddled look on his face and before he could question the words of the Five before him, you piped up an explanation, “It’s us who shattered the original timeline.”
“Thank you, dear,” said the Five next to you as he brought an arm around your shoulder. You couldn’t tell if he was being this affectionate because he really missed his y/n or because he could see how badly it was ticking your Five off but either way you wanted to play along, leaning into his affection.
He broke your gentle eye contact to once again address the Five glaring at you both.
“The timeline was shattered the moment we came into existence, leaving us with an infinite number of alternate timelines in an infinite loop of trying to save the world,” he said in a tired voice.
You took a moment to really look at him, he looked so exhausted.
So did your timeline’s Five.
So did Drunk Five, Waiter Five, and Brisket Five.
Sure they looked content in the deli, as it was their place to escape, but the tired looks in their eyes really showed how hard they had tried and how worn out it made them.
You didn’t realize it but you were staring so deeply into the eyes of your timeline’s Five. With such a soft look he thought would never come his way again. You felt sorry for him. You really did but there is nothing that could excuse everything he did. Nothing could excuse the betrayal and heartbreak he caused you. That was his fault and he would have to deal with every ounce of guilt and shame that accompanied him in his downfall.
His eyes met yours, the green shining with sorrow as he attempted to convey all his feelings through his irises. You both knew your relationship would never be the same, even if you survived the Cleanse. There was just too much that couldn’t be undone.
You broke the connection first, turning away to look at the tiled floor of the deli instead.
Your Five continued to look at you.
Your eyes. Your hair.
He never could’ve loved Lila like he loved you, how could he have thrown you away so easily?
His love for you was what kept his fire burning all these years. His love for you ignited his passion for saving the world, just so you could live safely.
Just so you could live without surviving on cockroaches or the roof of a crumbling library.
Just so you could live without having to kill in fear of being killed.
Just so you could live a happy and comfortable life, even if it no longer meant a life with him.
You clenched your jaw in thought before turning to the Five next to you, “What can we do? I mean, there has to be a way out of this.”
He looked at you with an answer he was sure you wouldn’t like, “The only way this cycle will end is if you cease to exist. You have to let the marigold combine with the durango in the Cleanse.”
You raised a brow, “Just the marigold?”
Five looked at you confused, “Yes, the marigold infected our mothers the moment the timeline was shattered.”
“So it’s not actually us that’s the problem?” You waved your finger in a circle, gesturing to yourself, Five, and his absent siblings.
“Technically not,” Five confirmed.
You leaned back into the seat as Five returned his arm to his side. You bit your lip as you tried to remember anything that might help you come up with a plan, then it hit you.
Viktor.
You remember how he told everyone that when he lived on the farm back in Dallas, he saved Harlan, the little boy who drowned in the lake, by giving him some of his marigold.
You also remembered that he was able to take away the marigold in the barn, and whatever was left back at Hotel Obsidian.
You lifted your head, your eyes bright as the idea swirled in your mind.
You brought your hands onto the table, finding that you explain best with random hand motions, “What about Viktor, he could absorb our marigolds and transfer out his own into the Cleanse. That way the marigold and durango meet but we won’t have to die, we just won’t have our powers again.”
Both Fives were silent for a moment as they contemplated your plan. The Five next to you was the first to react by holding your face in his palms and planting a kiss between your brows. “Darling,” he admired, “You’re an absolute genius.”
Your timeline’s Five frowned in disagreement and jealousy, “What about Ben? If we combine our marigold with the Cleanse then he’ll die in there.”
“That Ben was an asshole anyway,” you shrugged, honestly not caring since he was the reason you were in this dilemma in the first place.
He hummed in agreement, not able to argue with you on that. He stood up and so did the other Five so he could let you out of the booth.
Your Five didn’t want to hang around for goodbyes, you had come up with a plan and that was that. He grabbed your arm and tugged you towards the door. The other Five quickly grabbed your other arm to hold you in place.
“Once this is all over, don’t go back to him. There are plenty of Fives here who will treat you so much better,” he winked at you as cheers of agreement ensued across the deli.
A blush came across your face as you looked around at the hopeful smiles of every Five in the room.
Maybe you didn’t have to stop loving Five.
You just had to let go of one.
You slightly nodded and winked back at Five as he let go of your arm, letting your Five tug you back towards the subway with an upset stomp. Looking back with a little wave, you walked out as Drunk Five yelled, “Auf wiedersehen!”
☕︎
part three.
authors note: hopefully you guys enjoy! originally i didn't plan on making a part two but i'm glad you guys liked it so much. my inbox is open for any requests and please let me know your thoughts in the comments!
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(hopefully i did this right??)
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[17:26] 'and so she was like 'if you're going to talk shit about someone, at least wait until they're in the elevator, you stupid b-''
mingyu hurriedly pressed a finger to his lips to shush you and tugged you by the sleeve, silently begging you to sit back down. your eyes widened and a group of college students sitting nearby gave you the stank eye as you sheepishly sat back down in your seat.
'sorry, i think i got a little too...'
'i think so too, bubbles. i love spilling tea with you, but maybe lower your voice, yeah? i don't wanna get kicked out and blacklisted from our favorite coffee shop.' mingyu smiled at your shy giggle.
'oops'
'anyway, continue your story, my love'
as you began to excitedly recall the story of how your coworker's girlfriend cut off two toxic people from her life, mingyu intently watched you move your hands animatedly, acting out little gestures from the conversation, and the small changes in your facial expressions.
'it was crazy. in the end, the two assholes had to pay the extra fees for the damage to their hotel room and cassie got away scott free, maybe except for the fistful of hair she's never getting back. i've been praying for her hair follicles every night. the end'
mingyu nodded. 'wow, that's crazy. and what does dylan think of this entire situation?'
you shoved another slice of the blueberry muffin into your mouth and spoke through the crumbs. 'he hates both of those assholes. never liked them from the start. he told me it took them 26 pep talks to convince cassie to confront those poo poo heads. he's glad she finally took the initiative'
your fiance reached over and brushed away a stray crumb in the corner of your mouth. 'and what do you think, sunshine?'
'i like cassie, so good for her! they were actually horrible to her. like they both wore white to her sister's wedding! are they insane? if i was there, i totally would've accidentally 'tripped' and 'spilled' red wine all over their dresses. what a bunch of assholes'
he chuckled. 'and then i would've been your getaway driver, right?'
you smiled at him. 'duh, obviously. you're my ride or die, pookie wookie cookie bear'
mingyu choked on the drink he was drinking and reached for a napkin. 'pookie wookie cookie bear?'
'whatttt it's cute! you're my pookie wookie cookie bear' you giggled and rested your head atop both your hands and gazed at your fiance lovingly. he stared at you back with a slight tilt to his head, his eyes silently asking what was wrong.
'i like talking with you, gyu, you know that?'
mingyu coughed. 'well, i'd hope so, because we're getting married in less than 3 months'
'you match my energy so well. i think we were made for each other' you smiled at him and mingyu's lips started to smile before he slammed his hands down on the table with an urgent look in his eyes.
'oh my god did i tell you about my landlord having a mistress'
'NO. TELL ME RIGHT NOW. OMFG.'
a/n: ib: my bsf and her bf. the three of us went out for lunch today and we were spilling tea and seeing them going back and forth abt diff information they had about the same incident was so cute to see
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