#what do you mean Wind Expected Tonight she is Here the wind has Already Arrived and has been here for Hours—

[prismatic-starstuff]

weather app: wind expected tonight

the weather outside, right now, at this very instant in time: WOOOOOOOSH HABLOOO WSHHHHHHH WOOOOO WOOOOO SHHHHHHHHHHHH

[tarrenterror25]

Title: When the Night is Over Chapter: 2 of ? Pairing: Alfred Pennyworth (The Batman) x F!OC Rating: E Word Count: 5.8K

Summary: After the flood, Dulce looks to do her part to help Gotham heal and hopes to bring change to the city. As a wealthy designer there’s little she can do, but when she becomes privy to the identity of the Batman, she seizes the opportunity to help the caped crusader. With her close to Bruce, Alfred Pennyworth fears she has ulterior motives for the vigilante, but little does he know who she really has eyes for. Dulce learns what it’s like to live a double life and the sacrifices it takes to save a city.

Tags: post-The Batman, post-disaster, MxF, light violence/injury, family trauma, mention of family death

Playlist here

Notes: Much of this chapter takes inspiration from the Nolanverse.

Chapter 2: And So It Goes

“There are many kinds of beauty, and you can find it where you least expect.”                                                      - Jean Paul Gaultier

It’s just another late night for Dulce at the Castillo fashion house. The last employee left hours ago and outside the streets are empty save for the occasional newspaper blowing in the wind, The moon shines on the damp city streets and the stoplights change their color for the occasional lonely vehicle passing through.

Inside the backroom of Castillo, Dulce sits at her work station. She’s seen designers who usually keep their offices upstairs, but she has her table right with the other designers and seamstresses that she oversees. Her table is at the front of the room, but what’s important to Dulce is that she doesn’t place herself above those that she employs, figuratively and literally. Gotham has enough people who walk all over the ones who hold them up and she’s not trying to be like them.

She checks her watch and gasps at the time. How did it get so late already?

Dulce sets down her work and tries to tidy up her station, but settles on leaving it for tomorrow after she fumbles with some rolls of fabric that keep rolling off the table. She grabs her coat and heads out the employee entrance, being sure to lock up before she heads off.

The parking situation isn’t the best in Gotham, but thankfully for Dulce there’s a parking garage not far from where she works.

There’s a brisk wind that sweeps through the streets and has Dulce pulling her coat tight around her. Her heels click on the concrete sidewalk with sure steps. One can never be too careful when traversing the streets of Gotham at night. Whenever Dulce stays late, she never has any problems, but tonight she was particularly late and the night seemed darker than ever at this hour. Working in the Diamond District means that police regularly patrol the area, but tonight Dulce doesn’t see a single patrol car.

Somewhere in the distance, Dulce thinks she can hear the sound of someone struggling with something.

She picks up the pace.

Even in the finest parts of Gotham, no one is safe.

Not bothering to wait on the crosswalk signal, she crosses the street and arrives at the parking garage. Dulce wasn’t just late to leaving work, but she was also late to getting there and that makes her parking situation more on the less than desirable side.

On the bottom floor she finds the elevator and takes it up all the way to the top. When the doors part, she can spot her vehicle on the far side, all alone. She steps out of the elevator and glances over her shoulder as her ears hear something again.

There is definitely the sounds of a struggle somewhere.

Dulce can hear faints grunts.

And a whoosh.

Call her curious, but she gravitates towards the edge of structure, hands braced on the short wall that keeps her from falling from a high place. She scans the ground below. Nothing. She looks up and peers into the night.

Something’s moving out there.

Is it...flying? Possibly?

Dulce squints, trying to make out the black clad figure flailing in the wind. She catches a glimpse of the unmistakeable shape of pointed ears.

“The Batman,” she breathes.

He’s gliding, though not very gracefully. Dulce watches him weave through taller buildings in the distance. He seems to have trouble turning and instead of sharp swoops around the corners, he’s making wide sweeps. Before Dulce can ponder exactly what he’s doing, she sees him clip the edge of a rooftop and he begins to spiral. He rights himself, but she notices that he seems to be getting closer to her.

And closer.

The Batman releases a parachute and tries to steer himself to land, but he’s coming straight for her. Dulce’s stunned in place and she isn’t moving until it’s too late. When she does turn to move out of the way, the hulking vigilante tries to upright himself for the landing, but he only barrels into her, knocking her to the ground.

Dulce hits the concrete and the Batman keeps rolling until he harshly hits a couple of bollards. He groans in pain and lets out a curse.

For a minute, Dulce just lays there face down on the concrete, not worried about the sting from her scraped hands and knees. The Batman, or what she hopes is the Batman, is right behind her, shuffling to stand up. She can hear him struggling with the parachute. The harsh tearing of fabric rips into the night.

Slowly, Dulce pushes herself up, wincing at the small debris embedded into her hands and knees. A midnight clad arm helps her help and murmurs a soft apology.

Dulce brushes herself off, her coat is definitely going to need to go to the dry cleaners, but that’s not what’s important to her right now. She’s still reeling over the fact that Batman is right in front of her. “Thank you,” she says as she squats down to pick up the spilled contents of her purse.

The vigilante is silent save for some strained groans as he moves to collect the parachute and what appears to be a gliding suit attached to it. The city lights illuminate the dark enough that Dulce can see the apparatus is in disrepair, there’s a huge tear through the gliding suit. She slowly stands and watches as he briefly assesses the damage.

After a moment, he just angrily balls up the whole thing, quickly tugging the parachute and crudely rolling it up to make it easier to carry. Dulce doesn’t miss that he winces with each movement and that when he tries to walk off, he limps, a hand coming up to his side. He makes it over to the elevator and pushes the button to call it up.

“Hey,” Dulce says tentatively, “I can...give you a ride somewhere if you want.”

“No,” is all he says in response without turning to face her.

She frowns at that. “You’re in no shape to walk anywhere and judging from that in your hands, I don’t think you’ll be flying anywhere either,” she says.

The elevator doors part, but he doesn’t move.

“I’m fine,” he finally replies.

He takes a step forward to get on the lift, but a wave of pain comes over him making him stumble and brace himself against the doors. Dulce hurries over to him, unsure of whether she should touch him to help him, her hands just hover over his form. “Take it easy,” she says. “Just...Just let me help you. I can’t just leave you like this. Um, you have a vehicle or something?”

Dulce takes the wadded up parachute and gliding suit as Batman climbs into the passenger seat of her vehicle. She places it into the backseat behind him.

Call it curiosity again, but as she hears him shifting to get comfortable and buckling his seatbelt, she examines the apparatus. She quickly takes in where it’s torn, where it’s supposed to connect, and tries to analyze the craftsmanship as quickly as she can without being suspicious.

She moves to shut the backdoor until something catches her eye.

A label. On the suit.

A quick glance over to where Batman is in the passenger seat to make sure he’s not looking and she feigns that she’s just setting her coat in the backseat. “Just gonna set this back here, too,” she says glancing up to the rearview mirror where their eyes briefly meet.

Her heart pounds as his dark eyes hold her gaze and for a moment she thinks he’s onto her, but he just turns away. Dulce pretends to be folding up her coat, but grabs ahold of the label and yanks it off of the gliding suit, using the coat and a fake cough to muffle the high pitched rip.

Shutting the backdoor, she puts the label into the pocket of her skirt and gets in the driver seat.

Batman is silent during the drive save for a few directions. Unsure of how to break the tension, Dulce just dives right into what she wants to ask.

“I couldn’t help, but notice your suit,” she says. “It looks like it’ll need someone to patch it up.”

He’s quiet.

“No offense to whoever made it, but...I think I could do a pretty good job if you’d like.”

He’s quiet again. No, not quiet, Dulce feels like that doesn’t describe the way sound seems to dissipate around him. He’s silent.

“I know you don’t know me,” Dulce goes on as she drives. “But I’m a designer, my name is Dulce and I could...I could help you.”

“Turn here,” he says softly.

“I’m serious. I can darn, mend, or whatever you need to get that repaired.”

“What is it to you?” he asks looking straight ahead.

The question catches her off guard and she stumbles a bit over her words.

“You’re...you’re the- the Batman,” Dulce replies. “Helping you is helping Gotham and I care about this city too much to ignore the opportunity to offer my assistance.”

“I appreciate the offer,” the vigilante says. “But no.”

Dulce arrives at the specified destination, it’s just an empty street. She throws the car in park with a scowl and turns to face him. “I could help you, really!” she insists.

She reaches into the backseat and grabs the wadded up suit and parachute and shows him the tear. “I’m telling you,” she says, “I could fix this up and maybe, I don’t know, maybe even make it better. You...you used this from atop the GCPD didn’t you? I remember reading about it! It’s failed you once before and...I think I can really help improve it.”

“No,” he says unbuckling his seat belt and taking the suit from her. He exits the vehicle and begins walking off.

“Wait! Hold on!” Dulce calls out as she follows him. “You don’t have to do this alone, you know!”

The caped crusader turns a corner into an alley and Dulce hurries after him. “Hey!” she calls out.

When she turns the corner and steps into the mouth of the alley, she’s only met with a pair of lonely dumpsters.

Back in her car, Dulce angrily buckles her seatbelt. She feels defeated and a bit embarrassed. She’s also still trying to process what just happened; the Batman knocking her into the ground and then being in her vehicle was a little surreal and she was sure that no one would believe her even if she wanted to tell them.

Dulce examines her knees now that the adrenaline has worn off and she can feel the harsh sting of the scrapes she’s suffered. They’re minor and just need to be cleaned. She digs in her purse for some kind of handkerchief to wipe off the-

The label.

The scrapes can wait.

The car is thrown into drive and Dulce speeds home. She doesn’t bother hanging up her coat or purse, she just drops them by the door and races to her desk.

Dulce’s home is not at all what one would expect for someone in her position. For starters, it’s a loft and very open save for the bedroom tucked away in the wings. Dulce saw no need for something grand like a mansion or a penthouse like the rest of her peers. She only has herself to care for so she saw no need to take up so much space.

Warm earth tones decorate the space and there’s teal and rose gold accent furniture to brighten the space. There’s a brick wall with large windows that overlook the city and as for the furnishings, well, it’s clear that she’s not expecting many guests over. There’s a modest size television and a loveseat precisely large enough for just two people. Contrary to the sparse furnishings for company, Dulce’s space is lived in; sketches litter her dining table along with some work binders and there’s fashion magazines with tabs in them scattered on the coffee table. A small stack of books occupies the wingback chair next to the loveseat and on an end table sits the remainder of this morning’s coffee.

At her desk are swatch boards with fabrics, more sketches and work related things that she shoves aside. “Damn it,” she curses as some of the things fall to the floor.

She sits at the desk and turns on an overhead lamp and retrieves from her pocket the label she ripped off of Batman’s suit.

It’s just a standard looking cloth label, but whatever was stitched onto it is missing now save for a few letters.

It takes all night and Dulce’s no genius, but she doesn’t have to be to figure out the origins of the label, the origins of the suit.

The stitching on the label had come undone, but with a good set of glasses, a steady hand with the right tools, and a lot of patience, it’s like connect the dots for Dulce and she can make out the rest of the words.

Why does the Batman have something from Wayne Enterprises?

Dulce skips out on work at the fashion house so she can research further. She’s not a tech wizard so she has to do her detective work the hard way. She makes some phone calls, writes a bunch of emails, and does whatever she can to figure this out. It takes a few days and a lot of dead ends before she makes any headway.

Why am I doing this? She ponders at her desk in her home.

Instead of the usual fashion sketches, gown ideas, and scraps of fabric on her desk there’s pages of information she’s printed out about Wayne Enterprises: she has a directory of their departments, contact information for the head of each department, and information on the current board members as well as all of their public business proposals in the last few years. Wayne Enterprises has a few connections to military technology, but none of that sticks out to her. The city funded projects for better equipment for the GCPD, but again, nothing sticks out to her. She’s even called the GCPD and spoken with Commissioner Gordon to ask if he knew about any odd projects or happenings involving gliding suits. He seemed amused and surprised at the question so another dead end.

Why was she doing this?

I have a chance to find out who the Batman is.

But why did she want to know who he was?

The city...I can help him and help the city.

She kept telling herself that while she kept searching for answers. She kept telling herself that it wasn’t her pride driving her to find the truth. And once she found out who he was, what then?

She shakes her head.

She’d figure that out later.

When Dulce does go back to work, she stays even later than usual to see if she can spot the caped crusader, but he never shows. She tries to investigate the area where she dropped him off, but nothing. Just when it seems like she’ll have to give up her search, she makes a breakthrough.

The head of the research and development department at Wayne Enterprises is a man just like any other so Dulce is able to lay on the sweet talk to get him open up. It burns her to do this and to dumb herself down as well, but whatever gets her the answers she needs, she’ll do it.

“I’m certain I just have the wrong number, silly me!” she says sweetly over the phone.

Her voice is sweet, but she’s sitting in her office chair at her desk, boredly scribbling something on a piece of paper. She could vomit right now.

“That’s quite alright,” Roger, the man in question on the other end of the line says. “Who were you trying to reach Ms. Salazar?”

“Oh, well you see, Mr. Wayne is sponsoring my upcoming fashion show and he gave me a number for a uh, well, I’m not quite sure who, his handwriting is practically chicken scratch!”

Roger laughs at that and Dulce makes sure to laugh, too. Not just any laugh, that high pitched kind of laugh that gets men to say anything because they think it’ll go right over your head anyhow.

“Yeah, I’m not sure what you could find in our department for that, miss,” he says with a chuckle. “Unless you want tactical armor!”

Got him.

“Oh, Roger, you’re hilarious, really,” she says feigning that he’s the funniest person she’s ever come across. “Tactical armor! I hope you have something else I can work with besides that. Got any parachutes laying around?”

She says the last part with a flirty tone.

“I might have a few. You like base jumping?”

“Base jumping? Oh! Well, I’ve never been.”

“I could take you sometime, I’ve got a private helicopter we could take to-”

“I didn’t think there was any research to be had in base jumping of all things!” she says trying to get him back on track.

“Oh, of course,” he replies. “Not to get all technical, but it’s perfect for military use. We’ve got a couple of suits here we use to test out all kinds of things. Come by and maybe I give you a private tour of the department?”

The last part he says with too much innuendo for Dulce’s liking. She’s sorely tempted to take him up on his offer, to see for herself, but she decides against it. She’s not ready to indulge this Roger in that sort of thing.

“Wow, that’s such a kind offer, Roger, really,” she replies. “And I would love to keep chatting, but I should get going now.”

“How about dinner sometime? I know this-”

Click.

A shudder comes over Dulce and she composes herself to gather her findings.

She is certain that the gliding suit came from Wayne Enterprises now. The only question that remained is who took it and how did they get it without anyone noticing.

Maybe it was someone working in the department or it could be military personnel. Batman definitely seems like he has military experience. Was Wayne Enterprises hiding something? Some kind of vigilante program they were keeping under wraps?

Instead of sitting in front of the television with her dinner, Dulce takes her plate to her computer. She starts searching videos posted online of Batman and studying them. She stays up into the night watching grainy cellphone videos and CCTV footage of the caped crusader. She scrolls through comments, forums, and blogs reading theory after theory about who the Batman might be.

She glances at the time on her computer screen and curses at seeing how late it is. She really shouldn’t be pouring herself into all of this, but she can’t help it now, she’s in too deep.

A sigh.

She should be working on planning her upcoming show and her spring collection. She only has a few designs hammered out and some need alterations and-

Oh no!

She had been so busy with the mystery of the Batman that she neglected to deliver Bruce’s garments.

The next morning, she pops into work and packs Bruce’s clothes into some garment bags. She delegates some work to her employees as she grabs a work binder and then sets off for Wayne Tower. She’s already called Bruce’s office to make sure he’s prepared for her to stop by and she’ll go ahead and go over some things with him about the fashion show.

Dulce wonders what Bruce would think if she told him about her findings. He probably wouldn’t care. Or would he? If the GCPD found out about it, there is sure to be a thorough investigation of Wayne Enterprises. Bruce might have some interest, but Dulce doesn’t have interest in telling him. She wants to figure out who the vigilante is herself and speak to him face to face.

There’s her pride again.

The elevator ride to the top of Wayne Tower takes longer than Dulce expects. Her arms are starting to grow weary from holding the garment bags, but thankfully the doors part and she steps into a foyer of sorts. Not like she would forget where she is, but in case she did, the large ‘W’ motif on the polished tile beneath her heels is a good reminder.

Dulce’s greeted by an older woman in the foyer, Dory, who lets her in through the double doors of Bruce’s home.

The place is rather dark in terms of lighting and structure; gothic arches and deep wood tones are the highlights of the space. Large windows allow for natural light, but in Gotham, even living in the highest building means you’re still getting gray skies.

“Allow me to take those, miss,” a familiar warm voice says.

Alfred approaches Dulce and politely takes the garment bags from her.

Even out of the formal wear, he still looks so handsome. Dulce has to pretend she doesn’t have chills from the slight contact his hand made with hers just now.

“Bruce will be down momentarily,” Alfred explains. “Follow me and I’ll show you to the parlor where you can wait.”

The butler guides Dulce through the halls decorated with antiques and a few sparse family portraits that seem to stop the closer to the end of the hall they get. Alfred hangs up the garment bags in a closet and continues towards the parlor. Despite the use of the cane, Alfred seems to stride through the halls. It gives Dulce the sense that though Bruce’s name may be on the building, Alfred seems to be the one in charge of things here.

The parlor is a very open room with more dark colored furniture and gothic details. The only light that illuminates the space is from the large windows though in this room, it seems brighter than the foyer. There are two couches across from each other and a coffee table in the middle.

“Would you like me to take your coat?” Alfred asks.

“Oh, yes please,” Dulce says.

The butler tucks his cane under his arm and his fingers hook under the collar of her coat to help her out of it. The hairs on the back of her neck stand up at him being so close to her.

As he hangs her coat up in a closet nearby, Dulce smooths out her skirt and blouse. She starts to adjust her hair and then has to tell herself to stop fussing.

“Bruce tells me that the two of you have more in common than he realized,” Alfred says coming to stand beside her.

“Oh, yes,” Dulce replies as she clears her throat. “I’m also technically an orphan I suppose, but I wasn’t alone, I had some...relatives. But they passed when I was very young.”

She rambles and inwardly rolls her eyes at not being able to keep her composure around Alfred.

“If I may inquire, your name is different than that of your house?” Alfred asks.

It’s a question she’s been asked time and time again. Why is her name different than the one that’s on the building of her business? Alfred senses he’s broached a sensitive topic and apologizes.

“No, it’s alright, really,” Dulce says. “I get that a lot and perhaps that’s why people don’t remember me often.”

“You don’t seem like type one would easily forget,” Alfred replies.

There are those damn butterflies again. God, he’s so smooth.

Dulce explains, “My parents didn’t have the loving relationship that Thomas and Martha had. I was given my mother’s maiden name when I was born.”

“I imagine from the business side of things, your family didn’t take to that?” Alfred asks.

Dulce can tell he’s just making conversation to kill time while she waits for Bruce and damn, he’s really good at it. She feels so calm and relaxed, not her usual tense self with the wall she always has to put up. She laughs a little at his question and he smiles, too.

“You’re right, they didn’t like it at all,” she explains. “When my parents passed, my grandfather looked after me. He and a few aunts and uncles were quite...distraught that his only son had only one child and that the child didn’t even have his last name. My father left me his share of the business and at some point I think they tried to write me out of it while he was...on his deathbed.”

Alfred’s eyes shoot up in surprise and Dulce nervously chuckles at her moment of oversharing.

What the hell is wrong with me?

“Apologies,” she says, a hand coming up to her chest. “That...that is a rather grim thing to say. I’m so sorry.”

He gives a sympathetic smile. “It’s alright,” he assures her. “Bruce has dealt with similar circumstances. It’s easy for people to try and take advantage of someone who has lost something.”

Alfred insists that Dulce have a seat as Dory brings in a tea cart. The butler thanks her and she leaves. Dulce sits on the couch and can’t help, but watch Alfred as he sets his cane aside and begins to set out the contents of the cart on the table.

“I hope you’ll forgive Bruce’s tardiness,” Alfred says as he sets out tea for two on the table. “I have told him time and time again how rude it is to keep a lady waiting.”

“I don’t mind the wait,” Dulce says softer than she realizes.

She did mind. Usually. Dulce hates having her time wasted and people like Bruce are typically her least favorite. But for once she’s thankful that she’s being made to wait. She gets to chat with Alfred and admire him for that much longer.

The butler takes a shiny teapot and pours its contents into the two cups. The warm and comforting scent of lavender wafts up to Dulce. On the tea cart there are also a couple of silver serving bowls that Alfred arranges on the table. One has fresh and fragrant strawberries and the other has teacakes.

Dulce wants nothing more than to have Alfred sit down next to her, have tea, and tell her everything about himself. He’s a mystery she wants to unravel and the thought frightens her.

She doesn’t want to feel this way about him; she doesn’t want to get butterflies in her stomach, feel her heart jump at the sight of him, or lose her breath when his hand brushes hers. But she feels all of those things all at once and it overwhelms her.

Bruce finally enters the parlor and Alfred greets him.

“Thanks, Al,” Bruce says dismissing the butler.

He sits across Dulce and helps himself to a strawberry. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” he says around the fruit.

Bruce looks exhausted, more so than whenever she’s seen him before. It’s eleven in the afternoon so it’s not like she’s dropped in on him at the crack of dawn or anything. She’s tempted to reschedule this visit, but she’s already taken time out of her day and again, Dulce hates having her time wasted.

“It’s alright,” she says with a worried brow. “Is this going to be a productive talk or-”

“Yes,” he says stuffing a cake into his mouth and washing it down with the tea.

“Right,” Dulce says pursing her lips at being interrupted.

Something about Bruce feels...off. It’s not like she’s familiar enough with him to know what his normal behavior is outside of social functions, but she can just sense that he’s withdrawn from her.

Wanting to just get this over with, Dulce retrieves the binder she brought and flips through some pages to go over a general idea of the event. She has photographs, some mood boards, spreadsheets, and all kinds of details covering everything from security to catering.

The show is to be held at Gotham’s Botanical Gardens and will feature some live music as well. “I’d like to get Dinah Lance for the event,” Dulce says.

Dulce’s choosing to make a statement with the show so she’s hired local vendors to work the event. “I’m using this as an opportunity to showcase the talents of the citizens of Gotham,” she explains. “Vendors who were affected by the flood will be offering their services to us. We’ll have photographers, food, drink, entertainment, and whatever else we need.”

“And the cost?”

“We’ll supply them with the cost of materials, any other fees, as well as pay for their time. They’ll pay nothing out of their own pockets.”

Bruce just nods as he eats a few more strawberries and Dulce feels relief wash over her. She’s never worked closely with Bruce Wayne and so she isn’t sure how he is with his money. Thankfully, he seems quite generous and she starts to feel optimistic about future business ventures.

"And funds from the sold pieces will go towards the relief efforts,” Dulce says.

“Why not auction them off?” Bruce quietly suggests.

Dulce blinks a few times, his response catching her off guard. This whole time Bruce has been fairly quiet and has hardly looked at her. She’s trying not to be offended and attributing it to his tiredness, but up until this point she really just felt he didn’t care and was just letting her talk his ear off.

He clears his throat and explains by saying, “Drive up the price a bit? People want what other people want.”

“That’s, wow, I didn’t even think of that,” Dulce replies with a genuine smile. “That’s a great idea!”

As the two talk, Dulce realizes how wrong she’s about Bruce this whole time that she’s never spoken with him; he’s shy and a little awkward, but well-spoken and not at all the lazy playboy the tabloids make him out to be. At the time, she believed the lazy part at least, not so much the latter.

The planning finally comes to an end for the moment, all the fruit, cakes, and tea gone. The two plan to meet again at a later date as they rise from the couch. Dory beckons Bruce to a side office where he has a phone call waiting for him. Bruce hurriedly excuses himself, keeping his head down as Alfred enters and retrieves Dulce’s coat.

“Went well, I hope?” he asks as he hands the coat to Dulce.

“Oh, yes, I guess,” she says as she reaches out to take the coat. “I worry that he thinks some of my ideas are too ambitious. He’s not exactly perfect for bouncing ideas with, but we’ll just have to see.”

Alfred holds the coat out and makes a gesture for her to turn around so he can help her put it on. It catches Dulce off guard as his face is not stern, but it definitely says that there’s no room for questions. For a moment she’s just standing there staring at Alfred.

“Something wrong?” he asks, raising his brow.

Oh, the way he looks with just his scarred brow quirked up; Dulce’s suddenly lost for words. The two of them are nearly eye level; Alfred doesn’t have much of a height difference when she’s in heels, he’s about a few inches taller, but with that look on his face, she swears he’s looking down on her with how small she feels.

“What? Oh, no, I just, um...”

Slowly Dulce turns and guides her arms into the sleeves of her coat. Alfred’s fingers in the collar brush against her neck as he helps secure it on her shoulders.

“Thank you,” Dulce says softly.

Bruce walks back into the room and thanks Dulce again for coming as Alfred steps aside. Dulce can hardly process Bruce’s words as she buttons up her coat, her mind still reeling from the interaction. She feels almost light headed, she needs to get home quick before she embarrasses herself further.

“Thank you for having me,” she says starting for the way out.

“Oh!” She quickly turns and faces Bruce. “One more thing,” she asks. “What do you plan on wearing?”

Bruce just shrugs and his hand comes up to rub his chin thoughtfully, but it’s more like he’s trying to hide behind his hand and not speak. Alfred gives him a look that says he should probably answer Dulce who’s looking at Bruce with a concerned brow.

“Just something I have here,” he says softly. He clears his throat and says it a bit louder when Dulce doesn’t quite hear him, but he speaks quickly like he’s trying to avoid talking.

“Yeah, that won’t do,” Dulce says. “Stop by again and I’ll fit the both of you?”

The last part she asks with a glance to Alfred who just nods his approval.

“That’s fine, but really,” Bruce says. “I’m fine. I’ll just-”

Alfred interjects. “I’ll have the front desk schedule something with you, miss,” he says with a warm smile that begs for forgiveness for his ward.

“No, Alfred, it’s fine,” Bruce argues, his voice louder than it’s been the entire afternoon. He looks to Dulce and says firmly, “I appreciate the offer, but I’m fine.”

Dulce waves her hand dismissively and says, “I won’t press the matter, but really I think you should-”

Silence befalls them like a wind takes out a flame.

The air is thick, heavy with tension. A clock ticking somewhere on the wall is suddenly deafening to the trio.

Dulce’s wide eyes flick over to Bruce who stares at her with a hard expression, jaw clenched and his pupils wide.

It speaks volumes.

She knows she’s heard that line before though it was much softer that time, raspier, and more articulate than Bruce is at the moment. Her eyes flick over his form, mentally comparing his figure to all the videos and photographs she’s been studying. The dots connecting in her head as Bruce gives the faintest tilt of his head that says “don’t”.

Alfred looks between the two of them, confusion evident on his features, and clears his throat. “Let me walk you out, miss,” he says stepping between them. “Bruce has some other matters to tend to and I’m sure you’re also quite busy.”

It all makes sense now, the realization flooding her mind; of course Bruce would have access to the tech at Wayne Enterprise and that’s why he’s been so quiet and so reserved, and that’s why he looks so tired.

It all makes sense.

Dulce follows Alfred out of the parlor, but not before looking over her shoulder at Bruce and saying one last thing.

“Bruce,” she says.

Bruce looks to Dulce, she can see it on his face now, yes, that brooding stillness in his dark eyes. She can see it even without all the black around it and she’s certain, it’s him.

“Don’t stay out too late tonight.”

[badassbuchanan]

Be Mine?

REQUEST: Could you write something where the reader has never had a valentines so bucky goes all out to celebrate valentines day with her? Like she just feels so loved at the end of it? Thank you💖

Warnings: smut; unprotected sex, fluff, hand job, pussy rubbing, romantic 

Word Count: 4884

A/N: I’m sorry, I tried but romance isn’t my strong suit - anyway, happy V day!

I tossed my hand carelessly through my freshly washed hair, trying to make it look somewhat decent as I made my way through the compound. “Meet me by the elevator at six.” That’s what Bucky’s text had said yesterday, and that was the first I’d heard from him since our conversation earlier in the week. 

“If you don’t get a better offer by valentines day, we should just do something together.” Bucky suggested as he absentmindedly scrunched up his nose. We’d been chatting over a pot of tea in the kitchen after listening to all of our friends’ special plans for the upcoming romantic holiday. “Otherwise we’ll be the only two in the compound without a date.”

“I don’t really do valentines dates.” I shrugged matter-of-factly, my heart sinking as I felt a soft blush of pink cover my cheeks. Dates in general had always been a touchy subject with me, but especially valentines day dates. I’d never had one. Ever. In my life. And it was embarrassing for me to admit. 

My comment didn’t get past the clever brain of the Winter Soldier, a soft frown of curiosity appearing on his chiseled face as he lifted his mug to his lips. “What do you mean, you don’t do valentines dates?” He emphasised the word ‘do’, blowing gently on the hot beverage before taking a sip. 

His eyes were fixed on me, patiently awaiting my response as I felt my heartbeat speed up. “I just don’t.” I shrugged innocently under his stare, noticing the little frown lines which appeared on his forehead as he processed my answer. 

“You think Y/N’s ever met a guy good enough to take her out on the most romantic day of the year?” Sam’s voice immediately had Bucky’s eyes rolling, turning his head to the side to watch the chuckling avenger stroll into the room. “You’re dreaming, cyborg. Even I wouldn’t try.” 

“It’s not that!” I jumped to my own defence, not wanting Bucky to think that was the reason I’d turned him down, because it wasn’t. Bucky and I had been great friends ever since he’d arrived from Wakanda, we felt somewhat connected by the commonality of the enjoyable silence and peacefulness of being alone. Something which people like Sam would never understand. “I’ve just never had a date for valentines.”

Bucky was a selfless guy and I knew he’d only offered to spend his valentines day with me out of kindness. He was an extremely handsome super soldier with a charming personality and a heart of gold. He’d be able to get a valentines date with a beautiful girl with a blink of his eye. 

“I guess I’ve never really felt strongly enough about anyone in that way.” I elaborated vaguely, looking between Bucky who was giving Sam a fed up look and Sam, who had grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and was happily leaving the room with a chuckle, knowing he’d done his job of winding Bucky up.

“It doesn't have to be a date.” Bucky pressed his lips together in a small smile, his voice softening as he looked over at me, his steel blue eyes shining bright. “We can just hang out like we usually do.” 

I smiled over at him sweetly, thankful for his understanding nature. “Okay, sounds good.” I let out a soft chuckle as his smile widened at my answer, taking another sip of his drink as his heart skipped a beat. 

I arrived at the meeting point right on time, deciding to wear a pair of distressed denim shorts with a floral top tucked into them after much deliberation. I was nervous. I didn’t know why, I’d hung out with Bucky hundreds of times before. But it was this damn day putting so much pressure on something as simple as two friends hanging out. 

The compound was particularly quiet where the rest of the team had already left for their dates. The silence only made the loud beating of my heart more evident. Bucky still hadn’t shown up. He’d probably found himself a proper date for tonight and forgot to tell me. 

“Hey F.R.I.D.A.Y, has Bucky left the compound recently?” I asked softly, fiddling with my hair as I prepared for a lonely night of movies. 

“No, Miss Y/N. Sergeant Barnes is currently in the south living room.” The AI answered immediately, the response surprisingly me as I raised my eyebrows. The south living room was an extravagantly decorated room of the compound, hardly ever used other than for special occasions and honourable guest visits. 

“Thank you, F.R.I.D.A.Y.” I spoke as I pressed the button for the elevator, my nerves calming a little as I tried to guess Bucky’s reasoning for being in that particular room. I stepped in the elevator, feeling the metal contraption move between floors. So maybe he hadn’t blown off our date - correction, ‘hang out’. Maybe he’d just forgotten where he’d arranged to meet me.

I stepped out of the elevator and wandered down the darkness of the hall, only illuminated by the soft light coming from the living area. I dragged my fingers along the cream coloured wall absentmindedly, the quiet sound of a song playing made me tilt my head questioningly. “Bucky!” I called out as I neared the entrance to where the AI had informed me of Bucky’s whereabouts. 

My breath got caught in my lungs as I turned into the doorway, my body completely still as I widened my eyes in shock.

“Bucky, what’s all this?” I whispered softly, my heartbeat speeding up as I looked in at the busy super soldier standing in front of me. 

“Crap, is it six already?” Bucky mumbled to himself as he rushed to light the candle in his hand, placing it carefully on the coffee table. He looked up at me with an innocent smile as he shoved the lighter into his back pocket.

He was standing near the roaring fireplace, the floor almost fully engulfed in rose petals. He’d strategically placed candles and flowers on the mantlepiece and the coffee table, a rug thrown down of the floor with pillows and a bottle of champagne ready for us to indulge. 

“Y/N, please don’t be mad.” Bucky begged as he saw the stunned look on my face. I tried to process what was going on, why he’d put all this effort in, but instead, I just stood there speechless. “I know you said you didn't want this to be a date but I just-”  “Bucky, it’s beautiful.” I spoke with eyes full of tears, my hands shaking slightly as I stepped further into the room. I’d only ever seen such a romantic gesture in movies, I’d never in a million years expected that one day it would happen to me. 

Bucky watched intensely as I walked towards him, his eyes softening into a smile as he realised I wasn’t upset with him. He sighed out in relief, holding his hand out to tug me close to him as I continued to admire the gorgeous set up he’d put together.

“You said you’d never had a date for valentines day,” He spoke deeply, shaking his leg nervously as his eyes stayed glued on me. His hand kept hold of mine as I looked up at him, attentively listening to his words. “Well neither have I.”

“Are you telling me that Sergeant James Buchnanan Barnes, even back in the roaring forties, never had a valentine?” I gasped in a playful tone, although I truthfully was surprised to hear his confession. Bucky was a catch, I would’ve thought he’d have been spoilt for choice back in his youth.

He rolled his eyes with a chuckle, reciprocating my gaze as his fingers absentmindedly massaged my palm. “Well at least I didn’t say I’d never had a date because I’d never found anyone good enough!” He raised his eyebrows accusingly, his lips falling into a sassy pout. 

“That was Wilson!” I reminded Bucky with a tilt of my head, a small smile playing on my lips as his gorgeous eyes bored into mine. I felt myself get carried away in the moment, tugging him slightly closer as I admired him.

“I made us some chocolate covered strawberries.” He mumbled shyly, a proud smile on his face as his eyes flickered down to my lips absentmindedly. 

“You really thought of everything, didn’t you?” I sighed out contently, walking passed him to sit down on the rug. I crossed my legs and looked up at Bucky who followed my lead, sitting down on the soft material next to me. 

I watched carefully as he leaned over to grab the flute glasses in his metal hand, his other grabbing the bottle which he sat between his thick thighs. Bucky’s arms tensed as he pulled the cork out with a pop, the soft music still playing in the background filled the silence. 

My heart fluttered as I gazed over admiringly, my fingers fiddling nervously with the blanket beneath us. Bucky’s brows furrowed as he focused on pouring the liquid into the glasses without it spilling over the top. 

I smiled maybe a little too widely, catching Bucky’s attention as he looked over at me innocently. “What?” He chuckled with a charming smile, placing the bottle down carefully away from where we sat. 

“Nothing,” I smiled back at him, too lost in the bliss of the moment to stop and think things through. I could feel myself falling for him, fast. The vulnerability of it worried me, but Bucky made feel safe. “You just get these cute little lines here when you frown.” I spoke sweetly, lifting my hand to touch between his brows delicately. 

Bucky smiled as he watched me, entertained by the mesmerised look on my face. “I think you’re the only person in the world that thinks frown lines are cute.” He chuckled softly, leaning over to hand me a glass of champagne. 

“I don't think frown lines in general are cute.” I corrected him, rolling my eyes with a cock of my eyebrow, our fingers brushing slightly as I took the glass from his hand. 

“Oh, so you just think they’re cute on me?” He smirked teasingly, watching my face blush pink as he caught me out. He lifted his glass to his lips, sitting closer to me now from where he’d handed me the glass of champagne. 

“Gosh, you really love making me blush, don’t you Barnes?” I sighed with a shy smile, sipping the fizzy alcohol as I watched Bucky’s smile widen. His eyes travelled up and down my body as I shuffled to sit with my legs sideways, leaning on my hand which moved me closer to him. 

“Hey, can I tell you a secret?” Bucky’s voice dropped to a serious tone as his heart started beating a little harder. I detected a slight hesitation from him as he coughed shyly, his eyes glued on mine. 

“Mmh hmm.” I nodded sweetly, my eyes softening as I tilted my head to the side, my finger circling around the rim of the glass as I anticipated his confession. 

“When I originally suggested we do something for valentines,” He looked down at his lap nervously, a small smile of his lips as he thought carefully about his words. “I wanted to ask you, you know, not just because we were going to be the only two people without a date.” 

Butterflies fluttered in my tummy as I shyly looked down into my lap, trying to hide the smile that had appeared on my face. “What was the real reason?” I asked curiously, my voice softening to match his. 

“Well, because I think you’re the greatest girl in the whole world.” He answered deeply, his eyes flicking up to my face just for a moment as he smiled at how happy I looked. “You’re beautiful, smart, generous, accepting, funny.” 

“Is this just another way of you getting me to blush again?” I cut him off, teasing him accusingly with a raise of my eyebrows. It broke the tension, Bucky scoffing softly as he took another sip of champagne. 

“No, that time was an accident.” His ocean blue eyes caught mine as he responded, both of our hearts beating a little faster than usual at the new depths of our relationship we were exploring. 

“You could’ve asked me, you know.” I spoke as I watched Bucky lean over to grab the chocolate covered strawberries he’d made from the table. He looked back at me as the plate lifted into his hand, waiting for me to clarify. “On a date. I would’ve said yes.”

“You would have?” Bucky’s eyes softened as he sat back down, strategically sitting so close that our arms brushed together. He offered me a strawberry after throwing one into his mouth, placing the plate and our champagne flutes safely on the marble base of the fireplace.

“Of course,” I nodded quickly as I��ate the chocolate covered fruit, catching any of the excess juice with my tongue. “Bucky, you’re the most loving, kind, handsome, brave, loyal guy I’ve ever met.” 

Bucky held his breath as he listened to me speak, the both of us feeling so loved in a world of so much pain. “You’re not scared of me?” His voice cracked slightly as he furrowed his brows into a frown.

I confirmed my answer with a shake of my head, my heart aching a little at the thought of him worrying about people being scared of him. 

“I could never be scared of you.” I admitted softly as an intense moment started to build between us, which neither of us were able to control.

I felt the tension between us boil over, noticing Bucky’s eyes dropp to my lips as I instinctively leaned closer to him. I let my hot breath linger on him for a moment before I pressed our lips together. 

Bucky’s metal hand immediately rose to cup my cheek, keeping me close as he kissed me back, the taste of strawberries on our lips. I felt butterflies in my tummy as his stubble scratched against my skin, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. 

I sighed out in satisfaction of his mouth on me, his kisses sweet and gentle as I pressed my palm flat against his solid chest. I felt his pecs move with the rhythm of his breathing, my cheeks flushing a light shade of pink as I felt myself wanting more from him.

He was touching me with such delicacy, as if he was scared he would break me. I shuffled forward as Bucky breathed into the kiss, his hand snaking around to grab the back of my head. He pulled me against his lips harder as my hand slid up to hold the side of his neck.

I parted my lips encouragingly, mimicking his action by tugging him closer by my hand on his neck. Bucky grunted softly into the kiss which was becoming needier with every second. 

I whimpered into the kiss, our heads tilting as our lips collided. My palm held onto his strong jaw, his stubble scratching my hand as his metal fingers ran down the side of my body.

I sat up a little straighter which leaned me further into Bucky, the palm of his hand supporting me at my waist. I hummed contently between kisses, Bucky’s eyes falling to where my lips were moving to connect to his again.

I gave him a sultry look as I pulled back from his mouth teasingly, lightly tugging on the thin material of the white t-shirt he wore. Bucky immediately took the hint, removing his hands from me as he pulled the top over his head.

He shook his hair back into place as he threw the shirt carelessly next to him. I couldn’t help but stare at his body in amazement, running my fingers up to where his metal arm fused to his flesh.

Bucky’s lips pressed back onto mine, a small whimper escaping my lips as his tongue pushed its way into my mouth. I felt my wetness seap down onto my cotton panties, sliding my thigh to rest on top of his as he let his hand quickly move over my ass to grab the back of my thigh.

Bucky grunted softly as he tugged on my bare leg, the silky flesh under his metal palm had his cock stirring in his pants. I took the hint, shifting myself to sit straddling the super soldier’s lap.

It was as though all of our built up emotion had exploded in a moment, our touches getting riskier as we roamed each other’s bodies. I let Bucky’s bottom lip sit between mine, sucking on it slowly as his tongue ran over my top lip.

“Is this okay?” Bucky whispered against my lips, our chests heaving as I nodded in response. I closed my eyes when I felt Bucky’s lips travelling across my cheek, leaving little pecks in their path. 

I massaged the back of his head, my fingers dug deep in his long hair. I let out a shaky breath as Bucky’s lips reached my jaw, his tongue wetting my skin with his open mouthed kisses. 

I tilted my head to the side, granting him more access as my other hand clung to his strong bicep. His metal hand held the back of my neck, supporting me as my body gave in to the pleasure. His flesh hand tugged the hem of my top out of the shorts before letting his palm slide underneath the material.

Bucky groaned against my neck as his hand came into contact with my lacy bra, his kisses getting sloppier as they reached my collarbone. “Tell me to stop.” He huffed out as he tried to control himself, not wanting me to feel pressured into anything.

I shook my head softly as I turned my head to look at him through half closed eyes, overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure and love I felt. “I don’t want you to stop.” I whispered vulnerably, Bucky’s head lifting to look at me with his gorgeous blue eyes.

He leaned in to press his lips back against mine, a whimper escaping my lips as I rolled my hips down onto his. A groan erupted in his throat, his hand travelling back down my body as he gripped the material of my top in his hand.

I leaned back momentarily, balancing myself with my palms on his bare chest as I helped him lift my shirt off of my body.

Bucky panted as he took in my semi-naked body, his hands rubbing the start of my hips needily as he watched me let my top drop on the floor. I leaned my hands back behind my body, making quick work of undoing my bra to let my boobs bounce freely.

I could feel his hardened bulge pressing against the inside of my thigh, his eyes fixated on my tits as he moved his lips onto my chest. I whimpered softly as his hot mouth left wet kisses on my breasts, his tongue flicking over my hardened nipples. 

Bucky’s hands hugged my body tightly, pulling me as close as he could as he sucked on my tits. I ran my hand through his soft hair, biting my lip as I closed my eyes in ecstasy.

Bucky’s metal palm slid down to my exposed lower back, holding me against him as he flipped us over. My back gently hit the blanket, Bucky’s large frame hovering above me as he moved his lips back up for another kiss.

My hands slid down his toned chest, over the chiseled abs of his stomach until I reached the button of his jeans. I tugged the waistband away from his skin gently, a little huff escaping his lips as I did so.

I broke the kiss to focus on what I was doing, Bucky’s head dropping into my neck as I popped open the button of his jeans. My head flew back, little moans escaping my lips as Bucky nipped at the base of my throat softly. 

My fingers pulled open his zipper, my pussy clenching as I slid my hand into his underwear. My touch was greeted by his hard cock, heavy in my hand. Bucky huffed out softly, his eyes closing as I felt my way down to his balls. 

I gasped softly at how big he felt, his lips kissing a strip up up the front of my throat and chin. His lips reconnected with mine as I circled his swollen tip with my thumb, smearing the leaking pre-cum. 

I lubricated my hand as much as I could with his juices before wrapping my fingers around his shaft. I tugged on his member gently, feeling his whole body tense at the foreign feeling. I hummed into the kiss, my pussy aching with need as I imagined how he’d feel inside me.

Bucky moaned as my hand jerked him off, his hips bucking to meet my touch as he hovered above me. He kissed me with so much force that my head pressed hard against the floor, softened slightly by the blanket. 

I felt his cock twitch in my hand, his hips jolting forward as he tried to control himself. Bucky lifted his flesh hand from the floor and moved it down between our bodies, his fingers tracing down my bare skin. 

His eyes immediately dropped to look between our legs, he licked his lips as his fingers came into contact with my shorts. Bucky’s jaw clenched as I squeezed his cock tighter, keeping my eyes trained on his gorgeous face.

Bucky skilfully flicked open the button on my jeans, his lips dropping to kiss me as he snaked his hand beneath the material of my panties. I gasped as he cupped my mound, my wetness leaking down onto his palm. 

My fingers dropped from around his cock, clinging to his bicep as he rubbed my pussy. My hips bucked up to meet his touch, needier than ever for his attention. I moaned into the kiss, my tongue flicking his as I arched my back off of the floor, feeling Bucky sit back from where I was. 

I looked up at him innocently, all baffled and horny as I watched him hook his fingers into the waistband of my shorts. In one swift motion, but slid my shorts and panties down to my knees. I wiggled my legs, helping him get them off the rest of the way as he sat back on his knees. 

“So beautiful.” Bucky mumbled as he looked down at my naked body, his cock standing proudly against his stomach. I bit my lip shyly a I sat up, my arousal dripping down onto the rug. 

Bucky crawled closer to me, his flesh hand running up my bare thigh as his cock throbbed desperately for attention. I breathed shakily, my arms wrapping around his neck as he pushes the last of his clothing down his thick thighs before kicking them behind him. 

He hovered over my body as I laid back down, now being cradled by the pillows he’d decorated the floor with. I could feel his big member against my thigh, trying to nudge its way into my warmth. I whimpered needily, bending my knees and pressing the heels of my feet against the blanket.

“Just let me know if this gets too mu-“ Bucky cut himself off with a moan, his nose crinkling in pleasure as he felt my hand wrap around his cock again.

I guided him to my entrance, encouragingly rubbing his throbbing tip into my wetness. My hand pulled away when I felt him pushing into me, filling me up with his big cock.

I let out a sensual moan of half pain and half pleasure as Bucky’s lips parted, a shaky breath escaping them as we felt my pussy clench around him.

My thighs clenched too, squeezing around his hips as his thick length slid out from where it was half sheathed inside of me. Bucky was going at a painfully slow rate, sliding his cock a little deeper into me with every thrust.

His lips dropped down onto mine, kissing me gently as he stretched my tight little pussy with his cock. The feeling of his thick length inside me made me dig my fingernails into the muscly flesh of his back.

I whimpered against his lips, my face screwing up in pleasure as he pulls his head back for a moment to admire me before crashing his lips on mine again.

I lifted my legs to wrap around his waist, my hips desperately bucking up to him in need. Bucky used his flesh hand to balance as his metal one ran up my leg, over my waist and up to my boob, squeezing it gently.

I cried out and arched my back into his touch, still in disbelief at how good he felt inside me. His cock filled me up again as he let out a grunt, breathing heavily as his body stilled.

Bucky moaned against my lips as he felt my pussy squeezing his cock, both of us lost in the overwhelming feeling of our bodies connecting. I pecked his lips over and over as he started rocking his hips back and forth slowly, making my tits bounce with every thrust.

His balls slapped against me, the sound filling the room as I let my mouth hang open. Our breaths met in a hot mix as Bucky squeezed his eyes shut in pleasure.

His hips jerked with each thrust, feeling himself rubbing against my walls as my pussy lips hugged his length. Bucky shuffled forward on his knees, deepening the thrusts as he picked up the pace.

I whimpered out softly, the new angle hitting all the right spots as my pussy welcomed his size, his cock soaked in my juices. “Bucky” I breathed shakily as I wrapped my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly against me. Bucky’s head fell perfectly into my neck, his little grunts intensified in my ear now.

A shiver ran through my body as I inhaled his manly scent, overwhelmed by the emotion and euphoric feeling of the moment. I felt my pussy tingle with pleasure, already close to my high as Bucky fucked his cock into me.

I tugged on his hair lightly when I felt his lips on my neck again, both of his hands pressed into the blanket either side of my head as he nudged his hips forward, sending his cock deeper into me. Bucky moaned into my neck, his cock twitching inside of me as he became overwhelmed with the feeling.

Bucky stopped his thrusting with such a suddenness that my eyes opened, a worried look washing over my face. He panted breathlessly, gripping my hips and supporting my back as he picked me up, sitting back on his knees with me on top of him.

I let out a moan the new angle impairing me on his cock as my arms stayed clung tightly around him. Bucky groaned full of pleasure, kissing me slowly as he started thrusting up into me, using his new position to his advantage.

Waves of pleasure mercilessly washed over me, only being intensified by the way Bucky was watching me fuck himself on top of him. He leaned his head back to watch me, his hips lifting to meet my movements as his arms clung to my body.

His eyes were soft and full of lust, his lips dropped into a pout as he watched me whither on top of him, overwhelmed with pleasure. I moaned with as gasp as my orgasm suddenly took over, my body pulsating on him as I rode out my high. 

I leaned forward and kissed him deeply, our tongues playing as he kept me in place despite how my hips were jolting at the throbbing of my clit. Bucky’s face dropped into my neck, his hot breath against my skin as I felt his warm cum spurting inside of me. I sighed out in satisfaction as Bucky grunts, wave after wave of cum filling me up.

He kept me close, our breathless bodies pushed together as we sat there in the afterglow of our orgasms. I’d never cum so hard in my life, the gentleness and love of Bucky’s actions had only topped the experience.

I turned my head and smiled lazily, kissing his swollen lips as my fingers ran through his hair. Bucky reacted by leaving soft pecks on lips over and over, his softening cock still buried inside of me.

“Y/N.” Bucky whispered softly, his breath still warm against my lips as his hooded eyes gazed into mine. “Will you be mine?” 

“Your valentine?” I softly asked, holding him tightly as I thought about the coldness I would feel once his body retreated from mine. 

“No, forever.” Bucky replied hopefully, making my heart stop as a wave of emotion flooded through my body. 

“Forever’s good for me.” I smiled as my eyes filled with tears, nothing but love for the man in front of me as I connected our lips in a gentle kiss. The perfect end to the perfect day.

tag list:

@harrysthiccthighss

@annestine

@bestofbucky

@be-patient-be-good

@nothing0is4here

@velvetcardiganbucky

@sexwithhiddlesbatch

[talesofstyles]

Stitches and Pucks

i swear i tried writing the whole fic from the 3rd and 2nd pov in the beginning but hockey harry is so dang loud he’s like hang on honey this is MY story so let me tell this one ☠️ so here we are. i had loads of fun getting inside his head though, i hope you like it!

massive thank you to my biggest cheerleader @smokeinherperfume 🥺💛 and ken i’m so sorry for making you read an LA Kings fic 😂 @emotionally-imbruised

warning: smut. there’s no actual bow chicka wow wow stuff though but there’s some thigh riding 👀

[17k]

Harry

I swear I’m gonna kill Zayn.

That fucker just slammed my face into the boards, and as I’m trying to push back while flexing my jaw because that’s the right thing to do when you’ve got your face smashed into the boards, he tries to push me back again. Well, not a fucking chance. I give a particularly hard push back to get him off my back and I’m able to free my stick from the boards and put the blade to ice.

Because we’re playing on home ice here at Staples Center and I know its speed and consistency like the back of my hand, it takes nothing but a short tap on the puck and it shoots back between both of our legs. We scrabble, throwing elbows and shoulders and even kicking at it with our skates to expel it out. It’s a hard-fought battle, probably not lasting more than a few seconds, but it’s starting to wind me up because fuck if I’m gonna let them score. We’re up 4-2 against The Sharks, and with only under six minutes left to play in the game, I’d like to keep it that way.

I really don’t see it coming. And as much as we hate each other’s guts, it probably wasn’t even intentional, but it still hurts like a mother when Zayn’s stick pops upward, the end catching me just above my left eyebrow. I don’t feel any pain at first, but red, blurred vision definitely lets me know I’ve got blood streaming down my face. The ref blows the whistle and the play stops as the penalty is called.

The pain hits me next, and I bend over at the waist, my clear eye watching as a stream of blood hits the ice and freezes. In just about a few seconds, I feel a towel covering the cut and I hear the new team doctor say, “alright… let’s get you off the ice.”

Her hand stays steady at my back as I lift up straight, taking the towel in my own hand to hold it in place. The doctor walks alongside me while I skate to the bench, which has an exit door on one end that will lead back to the locker room. A few of my teammates slap me on the shoulder as I walk past. Harvey, who plays the same position as me but on the second-line yells out, “get stitched up so you can come back out and kick his pansy ass.”

I can’t help but chuckle, because that’s exactly what I plan to do.

“Up on the table,” the doctor says briskly and I watch with my one good eye as she quickly starts preparing the necessary supplies. I hop up onto the table, and in just under four minutes, my very own Doctor McSteamy has my injury evaluated, lidocaine injected, and is now closing the cut with stitches.

Good grief, she’s a fucking vision. Has a slammin’ body too, which no doubt would feel fucking fantastic underneath me. She probably doesn’t even realise it, but she’s got her little tongue sticking out the side of her mouth and I bet that’s something she does when she’s trying to concentrate on what she’s doing. I can feel my dick starting to twitch, so I close my eyes and get my mind out of the gutter before I get a hard-on. Fucking embarrassing.

When I’m sure I’ve got my downstairs head situation under control, I open my eyes again. She’s placing what I’m guessing the last suture on the cut and I make sure I put on my most dazzling smile as I look at her because I can be devastatingly charming when I want to be.

“Hey Doc,” I lean a bit closer to her when she’s done and murmur, “you should let me cook you dinner at my place tonight. You know, as a thank you.”

“No, thank you,” she replies without even looking towards me, preferring to busy herself with putting away the supplies that she used to tend to my cut. “I was just doing my job.”

“Alright then, no dinner at my place tonight,” I say with a sly smile. “But how about giving me your number so I can take you out sometime?”

She snorts in reply. “I’m not one of your puck bunnies.”

“No, you’re not,” I smirk at her. My tone is matter-of-fact when I add, “you’re one hot doctor.”

Not sure what I’m expecting, but this is definitely not it. Most women would blush and drop their knickers in an instant when I give them the tiniest bit of my attention, let alone a compliment, and let’s just say that’s why my bed is rarely empty. But it seems like my charms don’t work on this doctor since all I get is a fucking eye-roll.

“Are you always this forward?” She asks, still not looking at me.

“I’m a simple man, Doc,” I tell her with a shrug. “I see something I like, I go and get it.”

“Good for you,” she says dismissively, but I don’t miss the hint of amusement in her tone.

“Does that mean I get your number?”

She lets out a chuckle and finally turns to look at me. “That means I like your way of thinking.”

“So, no number?” I pout like a damn child, and apparently, the sight is hilarious to her. She throws her head back and laughs, and when she looks back to me, I get a wink.

“Sorry sunshine,” she smirks at me and I can’t help but ogle at her lips.

Perfect fucking lips.

“I don’t shit where I eat,” she adds.

Now, this is funny, so this time I’m the one tipping my head back laughing before I bring my gaze back to her. “You know our General Manager, Sloane Knightley?”

“Of course,” she replies, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“She’s with Alex, right-winger,” I tell her with a grin. “Now, Brynne Adams, have you met her yet?”

“The Athletic Trainer?”

“That’s the one, and she’s dating Matt, left-winger.”

“What?” Her jaw drops and it’s the cutest fucking sight. I’ve always thought of myself as a tits-man, but apparently now I’m a jaws-man too.

“Oh I’m not done yet,” I smirk at her. “Sarah Jones, Head of Equipment Manager, do you know her?”

She nods. “I’ve met her twice.”

“She’s with Mitch, right defenseman. Now, you probably haven’t met this one yet, but our goalie, Adam, is the only one married between us first-line players. His wife, Rachel, is the head of our in-house legal team. So look around Doc, everyone’s bloody shitting and eating around here,” I finish with a grin.

“Yeah, that doesn’t change a thing,” she insists. “That won’t be me.”

I give her one last glance as I hop off the table before I walk towards the door, pretty sure my eyes glitter with mischief as I say, “yeah, we’ll see, sunshine.”

—

The Owner’s Box is a local sports bar in El Segundo. Located only a stone’s throw away from the team’s practice facility at Toyota Sports Center, it has become the go-to hangout for a lot of the players ever since the facility opened in 2000. I like this place because it carries 140 types of beer and I like beer, and honestly the food is great as well.

As much as we like to mix and mingle with the fans, which is super fucking cool in my opinion, the manager always ropes off an area on the second floor for the players so we can drink and chill out without fans swamping us. Usually when we arrive, we’ll hang around the first-floor bar area for a bit to give the fans an opportunity to take pictures and ask for autographs before we head upstairs.

It’s always crowded after the game because everyone knows they can find us here, but it always gets extra busy whenever we win. Tonight, there’s an actual line of people waiting to get inside.

I nod at a bouncer and enter, and it takes me a good half an hour to make it to the second floor where I find several of my teammates sitting at some of the tables or standing around talking.

Winding around tables, teammates, and hot women since several puck bunnies have been allowed to go up the second floor and are doing their best to get noticed by the players wearing outfits that fit them like a second skin, I make my way over to Alex and Matt who are already sitting at one of the tables nursing their beers. Those two are my best friends since we’re linemates, but normally I’d go stand over with the single guys and start my selection process for whatever woman who’d warm my bed for the night.

Not tonight though. Never thought this day would come but I’m not here for a hookup tonight.

Alex gives me a knowing grin as I sit down since I told him in the locker room after the game about my exchange with the hot doctor earlier when she tended to my cut and how she turned me down. Well, he and several other of my teammates since there were a few there in the locker room with us and they had ears to listen. I’m pretty sure I could even hear Mitch chuckle, which is honestly one of the world’s seven wonders since the guy barely talks let alone laughs.

“How’s that cut feeling?” Matt asks as I take a seat in front of him.

“Feels like a butterfly kissed me there,” I tell him, which gets a deep belly laugh from both him and Alex. We hockey players would never admit to being hurt in a fight. Ever.

The voices in the second floor immediately go silent and I see all eyes swing towards the stairs, and when I look there I see our General Manager walks in alongside Coach Higgins, followed by some staff of the team. Cheers start ringing as she walks towards our table, no doubt to sit next to her man, and then I hear a low chant, “Sloane! Sloane! Sloane! Sloane!”

Matt and I do the same since not only Sloane is more of a close friend rather than a boss who signs our paycheck once she steps outside of the GM office, but as the only female GM in the league, she managed to turn our team into champions. We won the Stanley Cup last season and no doubt she’s going to push us to victory again this season. Alex has a shit-eating grin plastered across his face as his gaze focuses on his girl, looking so damn proud of her. Man, my best friend is fucking whipped.

Sloane blushes, slides a grin to Alex, and when the sound dissipates and the guys all start sitting back down, she says, “shut up you big jerks, do you want me to cry?”

We all bark in laughter.

I stand up to give her access to the booth so she can sit between Alex and I, and Alex immediately wraps his arm around her shoulders when she’s within his reach to pull her closer to him and proceeds to give her a searing kiss. I whip my head at Matt and we both make a fake gagging noise.

“God, I think I’m going to be sick,” Matt says and Alex flips him off, still giving his woman a hell of a kiss and without even looking at us.

“I know, right? Not used to you being so fucking mushy mate,” I add. “Gives me the willies.”

Sloane laughs as she breaks the kiss. She leans over and playfully punches me in the arm. “You’ll have a good woman one day, Harry.”

“Yeah,” I drawl, then I give a faux shudder to make sure they understand I like being single. “No thanks.”

“You sure?” Matt cocks an eyebrow, but before I can reply, something behind me catches his attention. “Ooh, isn’t that the new doctor?”

I whip around so fast I fucking knock a bottle of ketchup off the table and it goes flying across the floor. Matt is laughing so damn hard he almost falls off from the booth, Alex is leaning over as he laughs, pressing one palm down on the sofa with the other to his ribs as if they hurt from laughing and Sloane is dabbing at her eyes as she laughs hysterically.

But yes, holy shit, that’s the doctor stepping off the stairs and onto the second floor with Brynne and Sarah. Now, I know Brynne will most definitely walk towards our table since Matt is here, but Sarah will most definitely walk towards the bar where Mitch is talking with some other guys.

Come here. Come here. Come here.

Fuck, she goes with Sarah to the bar.

“Oh no,” Alex says low and in warning. “I know that look.”

I don’t bother to give him my attention, keeping my eyes pinned on my girl. But I do ask him, “what look?”

“Your gaze just became predatory,” he says with a laugh.

“God, you have it bad for her,” Sloane teases but I ignore her as I stand up. Brynne gives me a wink when I walk past her and now I have a suspicion that my teammates blabbed to their women about what happened earlier tonight and now they’re trying to set me and the hot doctor up. Otherwise, why would she even be here? Fucking crazy, I know, but they’re all nuts.

“Go get her, tiger!” Matt quips as I walk towards the bar without looking back at their table.

The doctor has ditched the white lab coat that she wore earlier tonight at the arena, and I’m glad she has her back to me since I don’t make a secret of my ogling. My eyes are pinned to her ass in those skinny jeans and fucks sake I need to get a grip.

“Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine,” I say with a smile as I stand next to her, trying to get her attention. That was lame, I know, and I feel like I want to punch myself for not being cool.

She laughs and fuck if that’s not the best sound in the world. It’s warm, rich, and husky, which warms my blood and speaks to my dick for some reason. Not sure if she’s laughing because she genuinely thinks I’m funny or is that just a pity laugh, but honestly I could listen to her laughing all day. Wouldn’t be opposed to hearing her moan one day, preferably with her underneath me, but if her laugh is all I can get at this moment then I’ll take it.

“Can I get you a drink?” I ask her and I mentally prepare myself for her to decline since she turned me down earlier in the arena, so it totally takes me by surprise when she only shrugs and says, “eh, why not.”

I’m sure my smile is ten times wider and she sees it. “What’s your poison?”

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“What if I want the hard stuff?” I raise a single brow. “Sure you want that?”

“What?” She smirks at me and my inner caveman is screaming for me at the sight to just throw her over my shoulder and take her home right this instant. But obviously I won’t do that, since I’m pretty sure that’s called kidnapping and I know I won’t look good in prison stripes. “You don’t think I can take it?”

“Oh honey, I know you can take it,” I laugh as I lift my finger to the bartender. “I’m only wondering how you’ll handle it.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to wait and see.”

—

It’s three hours and many beers later, well for her anyway since I limit myself at two because I’m driving, and we’re stumbling out of the bar, laughing our asses off.

She’s telling me about the funniest thing that happened at the hospital a few months ago. At the beginning they thought they had a domestic situation because the couple came separately; one via ambulance and one via police car. But when they finally got the whole story, it turned out to be an anniversary celebration gone wrong since the wife had a seizure when she was going down on her husband and bit down on him.

“Are you joking?!” I stare at her, mouth gaping in astonishment before I burst out laughing hysterically.

She shakes her head and laughs with me. “I wish.”

“Did you manage to save his manhood?” I ask with a half-grin and half grimace.

“My colleague did,” she replies. “I was busy with the wife, she had rather extensive head trauma.”

“From the seizure?”

“Well, in panic and pain, her husband didn’t think much and just grabbed the closest thing he could find to try to get her to loosen her bite, which sadly was an old rotary style telephone and hit her in the head with it. She was okay in the end, though.”

“That’s one hell of an anniversary to remember for sure,” I chuckle, and the giggle she emits pretty much confirms she’s bladdered. Well, not the kind of drunk where she wouldn’t remember tonight I’m sure, but I bet she’ll wake up with a massive headache.

“I sure hope you’re not driving,” I say as I steady her by the elbow when she wobbles as we step down the stairs.

“Sarah, Brynne and I took an Uber here from the arena earlier,” she mutters as she pulls out her phone from her handbag.

“Let me drive you home,” I quickly say before she gets the chance to order a ride. Not sure why I did that because I certainly have never offered women a ride home without the promise of getting in their knickers, and I can assure you that I won’t be getting anywhere near hers tonight, but maybe I just don’t want this night to end yet.

We’ve been glued at the hip from the moment I bought her first drink, and three hours purely just talking with the same woman? That’s a record in my book. While I’m not ashamed to admit that I also like looking at her, honestly, to me that’s just an added bonus. I think it’s safe to say that I have never met anyone like her before. Granted, with most women usually there wasn’t much talking, but from what I learnt in just the span of three hours is that this doctor of mine is a hell of a lot of fun.

I swear she’s just a pure fucking joy to be around. Conversation with her is like a never-ending merry-go-round and she makes me laugh a lot. She’s bright and witty and she’s one of those people that knows no strangers. She can easily talk about anything from politics to sports even to crude jokes, and add on to that, she’s just so kind and inclusive that several times tonight I actually had to drag her away to one of the back tables so we could have a proper chat without the crowd around us.

“You don’t have to,” she gives me a hesitantly sweet smile.

“But I want to,” I gallantly insist as I turn and offer my arm to her. “Come on, I just want to make sure you get home safe.”

“Well, alright then,” she smirks, her hand easily slides into the crook of my elbow. “I could save a few bucks.”

I roll my eyes and tease her, “didn’t take you to be such a skinflint.”

“Hey!” She playfully slaps my arm with her other hand as she laughs and I’m glad I amuse her.

No, seriously... I like her laugh.

There’s no doubt that she wants me, just as there’s no doubt that I totally want her. We’ve got this really heavy flirting going on all night, and plenty of innuendo, but I won’t be surprised nor disappointed if she doesn’t invite me inside when we get to her home and nothing happens tonight.

We’ll get there, I’m sure.

Until then, I’m completely fine drinking beer, being her personal chauffeur, and getting to know her a little better.

—

We always finish team practice with battle drills. From the end zone face-off spot to either the left or right of the goalie, we pair up and battle for a goal. One on offense, the other on defense, we shoulder, bump, and juke our way across the short distance to the net. It’s a four to five second drill that will make us sweat, and then it’s over. We skate to the end of the line, where we wait to do it again.

“Saw you left with the new doctor last night,” says Matt, my battle partner today, with a shit-eating grin as he taps his stick against my leg. “How was she?”

I ignore his question not only because I don’t have the answer that he’s looking for because nothing really happened after I dropped her in front of her house, but also because this feels different. She is different. Had it been just another one night stand, I wouldn’t think twice before I blab all about the dirty details with my teammates. Great lays, lousy lays, I honestly have no filter and I tell them all.

But this is YN, and fuck if I know why and what this really means. All I know for sure is that I want more than to just tap that. The thing is, my teammates will probably not understand because they can’t really see past the fact that the new doctor is a gorgeous woman who I’ve been lusting after for about a week.

“Dude,” Matt says to get a reaction from me, smacking me a little bit harder with his stick. “How many times did you score her last night?”

“Don’t talk about her like that,” I growl.

“Whoa, dude,” he apologises and I swear his grin gets even wider. “Sorry. I guess you’re serious about her?”

“Serious about what?” Alex pipes up from in front of us. He’s paired with Adam, our goalie. There are four pairs of skaters in front of Matt and me, but there’s an equal number on the other side. We’re alternating.

“None of your fucking business,” I mutter, willing the line we’re in to go faster so I can escape from my nosy teammates and head to the doctor’s office.

Alex and Adam take off, Alex with the puck. They ram their shoulders into each other, legs braced and skates digging hard all the way to the net.

“Did you at least kiss her?” Matt nudges me with a sly grin, still trying. Man, he’s not a quitter.

“No,” I answer shortly, hoping that will satisfy him. “Just dropped her at her house and left after I made sure she got inside safely.”

“No. Fucking. Way,” he quips dramatically. “Who are you and what have you done to my teammate?”

Play continues, the next set of skaters in our line taking off and I ignore Matt but apparently he’s not done poking his nose in my business. “Oh, we’re not done yet buddy. Let’s go out tonight so we can squeeze some more gos out of you. Just you, Alex and I, how does that sound? Brynne said the girls are going to have a girls night out so I know he’ll be game.”

The girls means my teammates’ better halves, and honestly, hanging out with just my bros does sound good. Don’t get me wrong, those girls are cool—yes, my boss, Sloane, included—and they’re fun to hang out with. My teammates sure hit the jackpots with their women. But before Sloane and Brynne came along, the three of us were thick as thieves. There was a time where we went out almost every night and that’s why we’re more like brothers than teammates. Sometimes I miss that since we don’t get the chance to do it as often now that they act like old married couples, so yes, this does sound nice.

However, as tempting as it sounds, I want to hang out with my hot doctor more than my mates. That is if she’ll have me though.

“I can’t,” I say, clearing my throat. I lean in towards him and whisper, “I want to take YN out to dinner tonight.”

“Seriously,” he drawls dramatically. “Who are you and what have you done to my best friend?”

Again, I ignore his comment.

“Alright, I guess that’s a definite no to dinner with me and Alex then, huh?” Matt says in an exaggeratedly glum tone.

“The doctor is way prettier than you,” I reply blandly.

“Fine, go on your date,” he says with a slap on my back. “But I want to book some time with my best friend in the near future if it’s not too much trouble.”

“We’re going on a four day road trip in two weeks,” I mutter as I roll my eyes at him. “I’ll snuggle you then.”

Matt sidles up to me, lays his head on my shoulder, and bats his eyelashes. “Oooh, I can’t wait.”

I shove him off with a chuckle. That bastard.

—

“Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope,” I say after two knocks on her office door. I can hear her chuckle as she tells me to come in.

God, I have turned into such a dork. But I like hearing her laugh and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to hear that sound again and again.

“Hey,” she smiles at me as she looks up from her computer. “What’s wrong?”

“Knee’s a little sore,” I tell her, not feeling the slightest bit of guilt for my lie just so I can have a few moments to talk to her. “Thought you could take a look at it.”

Her brows draw inward with concern and she motions towards a table. “Did something happen?”

“Nah,” I shake my head as I hop onto the table with my legs hanging over the edge and kick off my slides. “Just came off the ice and noticed it.”

“Alright, go ahead and lie back,” she says as she turns to the sink and washes her hands. “I’m going to do some range-of-motion tests.”

I stay silent as she maneuvers my leg, trying not to focus too much on the feel of her soft hands against me or the smell of her perfume. Fuck, she smells good. Fruity and flowery. Like berries and the heart of rose and bitter wormwood, and the scent is fucking delicious.

“Do you feel any pain when I do this?” She asks with one hand on my calf, the other on my thigh as she rotates my knee.

“Not really,” I shake my head. What happens here today will go in my chart and I don’t want to call any attention to my knee.

“How about this?” She asks, rotating the opposite way.

I shake my head again. “Nope.”

The hand on my calf slides down, grasping the bottom of my foot firmly. With the other hand still holding onto my thigh, she pushes hard into my foot. “This cause any pain?”

“Nope,” I say quickly, and then add, “I think it’s nothing more than my muscles getting back in shape. But I figure some ice can’t hurt, right?”

She slowly lowers my leg and gives me a sweet smile. “Well, I don’t think anything’s loose or torn, but if you’re worried about it, I can schedule an appointment with Dr Green.”

She is the team’s orthopaedic surgeon, and hell I’m not about to do that. Talk about an unnecessary red flag. “I think it’s just a lack of conditioning. Got lazy this summer.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” I nod firmly. “I just need some ice and I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Well, alright then,” she says as she turns back to wash her hands again at the sink. “I’ll let Brynne know and have her prepare you an ice bath.”

“Oh hell no,” I quickly shake my head and grimace. “That bloody thing is pure torture and my balls will go into hibernation until next summer. Just an ice pack will do, Doc.”

She laughs again. “Okay, just an ice pack. I’ll be right back.”

She turns and heads through the door to the treatment room and I take a moment to admire her gracefulness as she moves. She looks delectable today in her scrubs, which are the typical light blue you see in the hospitals, and they hang on her tiny frame loosely. I’d actually never seen her in them before since she usually just wears normal clothes underneath her white lab coat in the arena, but I swear this might possibly be the sexiest outfit I’ve ever seen her in. I’m sure that has to do with the fact that I respect her so much as a doctor that it just heightens my attraction to her, and I can’t help but wonder if she’ll play dress-up games with me in the bedroom when the time comes. Because, well… I certainly wouldn’t mind getting a thorough exam from her.

“Here you go,” she says when she comes back. “Scoot back on the table and stretch your leg out. Keep this on for twenty minutes, then you can go.”

She places a towel over my knee, then lays the bag of ice on top.

“Thanks, Doc,” I tell her.

“Just doing my job,” she quips, and then walks back over to the box of supplies she had been unloading.

“Well, you’re very good at it,” I add and I can hear her chuckle. But I got nothing in response, so I add, “speaking about good things… I had a good time last night.”

“Did you?” She quips, still not looking at me but I can hear from her tone that she’s smiling.

“Well, yeah,” I say with a confident nod. “Didn’t you?”

“Eh, it was alright,” she smirks at me over her shoulder as she walks towards her desk.

“I want to do that again,” I tell her nonchalantly before I ask with a lopsided grin that I hope she finds charming, “will you let me take you to dinner tonight?”

“I can’t,” she shakes her head as she turns to look at me.

“Why? Got a hot date already?”

“Nah,” she chuckles. “Sarah invited me to a girls night at her place. I wasn’t gonna go because they seem like a tight-knit group and I don’t want to intrude, but Sloane came by here earlier to ask me again and she’s bribing me with tacos and margaritas, and well… I can’t say no to both.”

“Fair enough,” I laugh. “But have fun then. They’re all really nice, you’ll fit right in.”

“Thanks,” she gives me an easy smile, and I hope it’s subtle enough that she doesn’t realise this, but my breath actually hitch a little while I stare at her lips.

“How about tomorrow night then?”

“Well-” she begins, but she’s cut short when she hears her pager beeping. “Oh shit, I need to go back to the hospital. You think you’re okay there? Go to Brynne if you need something else.”

“Okay, don’t worry,” I tell her with an encouraging smile. “You go and save some lives, Doc.”

—

The arena is packed, the fans are at a fever pitch, and we’re in the midst of a fierce battle with the Anaheim Ducks. We’d taken them on in the first round of the playoffs last season, and while we swept them, they’re still a formidable opponent. Not to mention there’s a long-standing rivalry between the two teams, and add on to that, we’re in the regular season now so every win counts. The pressure is on.

As a center, I’m a shooter, not a fighter. That means I’m relied on to score, not to play defense or get tough with other players. My body is too valuable to mess it up in a slugfest, so I’m rarely enticed into a fight. Sometimes it takes everything in me to keep my cool, but I know I’ve got to trust Mitch and Marcel, our defensemen.

Just like right now. We’re late in the second period tonight, and one of the Ducks players, Jeff Azoff, is being a dick. He cross-checked me in the back, not strong enough to slam me into the boards, but it was enough to alert Mitch who’s skating right behind us.

“Do that again and I’m going to kick your ass,” I hear Mitch tell him. That guy doesn’t really talk, but he wouldn’t think twice before beating the hell out of someone if they mess with our team. He takes his job as a defenseman seriously. When he’s on the ice, nobody dares to touch his guys.

The fucker did it again, still not forceful enough for a penalty to be called, but Mitch was quick to drop his gloves and took on that Azoff guy. He kicked his ass good.

Man, I wouldn’t want to get on his bad side. Mitch is a badass. Unfortunately though, the fucker did land a lucky hit to his temple and his skin split just to the side of his eyebrow. Knowing Mitch, that will be nothing but a ten-minute trip to the treatment room where YN will stitch him up. I’m sure as hell he wouldn’t let her give him anaesthetic so he can get back on the ice as soon as possible. As I watch him skate towards the exit, I make a mental note in my head to buy him a beer tonight as a thank you.

The play resumed, and there are about forty seconds left on the clock before intermission. The Ducks are down 3-0, and they pull their goalie once they gain possession of the puck since they have nothing to lose. Luckily our stamina is stellar, so our legs are still fresh as we defend.

They pass the puck back and forth, looking for the long shot or a quick dump inside for a goal. My back is to Adam, our goalie, as I keep myself facing the action, letting my stick play loose.

The crowd’s screams escalate in tune to the clock ticking closer to zero. With a sharp flick of the wrist, the puck makes it past Alex, our right-winger, to the inside. Players crash the net, Marcel poke checks, and the biscuit shoots out towards me.

It’s a full-on breakaway as I shoot down the ice, one on one against the goalie.

Tap, tap, tap… back and forth… puck to blade of stick.

I close in on the goalie and juke left.

He goes left and I juke right.

He keeps going left, so I keep going right and flip the puck up and over his shoulder into the back of the net. The red light burns bright behind the net and the fans go wild. That was my third goal tonight, and it’s the perfect timing for intermission since there’s no way we can play with all the hats being thrown onto the ice.

It takes merely a second before I’ve got my teammates surrounding me. Alex, Matt, Marcel, Adam and Niall, one of the defensemen from the second line who’s filling in for Mitch. Pats of their gloved hands on my helmet, stick blades gently against my calves.

We skate to the gate that would lead us to our locker room. We all trudge there, taking up spots around the open space as we wait for Coach Higgins to address us. It’s what he does at the end of every period. If we play poorly, we get our asses handed to us. If we play stellar though, like tonight, he’d be effusive in his praise.

But as much as I’d love to hear nice things from the Coach, there’s nobody I want to see more than my very own Doctor McSteamy. And yes, just to put it out here since I’ve been calling the hot doctor by that nickname, I’ve got to admit that I did watch too much Grey’s Anatomy in the summer because there’s not much I could do during the off-season. My sister didn’t let me watch past season 10 though, because she said it’s not worth it.

“Need to get my knee taped,” I tell Alex on my right as I stand up. We have 17 minutes before we start the third period and I figure that should be enough time to see the Doctor and secure a date in the near future. “I’ll be right back.”

“Bullshit,” he grins and there’s a clear amusement in his eyes. “You want to see your girlfriend.”

“Shut up,” I growl.

“What’s this?” Matt asks curiously as he takes a seat next to Alex.

“Our buddy here wants to see his girlfriend,” Alex’s grin doesn’t lessen as he tilts his head at me. “Needs to get his knee taped, he said.”

“Conjugal visit in-between periods? Classy,” Matt says with a salacious grin and I glare at him. When his laughter dies down, he points out, “okay, jokes aside, that’s a shit excuse. If you really need your knee taped, you’d see Brynne and not YN.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got nothing else here,” I grumble like a stroppy child. “Can’t hit my own head just to get a cut, can I?”

“That would be outright dumb,” Alex laughs. “But come on, I’ll go to Brynne and make up something so at least you can tell the doctor that she’s busy.”

The treatment room is just down the hall from the locker, and when I get there, I notice the door is half open. I see her sitting on the little desk with her computer, so I knock lightly on the door to get her attention.

“Hey, you got a minute?” Her head swings up when she hears my voice and it takes everything in me not to just march there and kiss the fuck out of her when she offers me the sweetest smile. Crazy how much effect this woman has on me. “I need my knee taped but Brynne’s busy.”

“Sure, I was just reading the players’ medical chart,” she replies. “You were on fire out there by the way.”

“Thanks, Doc,” I smile at her.

“Skates, socks, shin pads and pants off,” she says as she walks towards the supply cabinet.

“Jock strap too?” I can’t help but smirk.

“No,” she rolls her eyes playfully as she grabs a towel and hands it to me. “Put this over your lap.”

“Do I have to?”

“Well, yeah, unless you want me to get a peek of your dick.”

“You know I wouldn’t be averse to that, Doc,” I say with a waggle of my eyebrows.

She gives me a school teacher, disapproving-type look but the slight twitch of amusement in the corner of her mouth is hard to miss. “You’re so bad.”

“You have no idea,” I grin, but she doesn’t see it because she has her back to me. She’s pulling another cabinet open to get adhesive, gauze and tape before knocking it close with her shoulder.

This is ridiculous but I’m actually a bit self-conscious of getting practically half naked in front of the hot doctor. I have absolutely no clue why and this had certainly never happened before.

I shed my gear from the waist down and she keeps her back to me until I get on the therapy table and the towel is covering my lap. She lays out her supplies on the table beside us, her slender fingers using a pair of scissors to open a new package of tape.

I take a moment to admire her as she cuts off uniform lengths of tape and attaches them to the table. She’s not in the scrubs I saw her in last week, but if you think I’d be disappointed, even just slightly, then you’d be wrong because you could put her in a burlap sack and to me she would still absolutely look edible.

Tonight, she’s rocking a mustard-yellow trouser suit with wide legs and a cross-over pleated blouse underneath her white lab coat. The crisscross swath of silk that wraps around her upper body does lovely things to her tits, and I realise I’m quite the pig to be thinking about her this way.

“Left knee?” She asks. “I’ve just finished reading your medical chart when you came in. Arthroscopic medical meniscus repair two years ago.”

“Yeah,” I nod. “Sometimes it feels a little loose. A good taping is all it needs.”

“Any soreness?” She asks as she steps up in between my legs that dangle over the table.

I shake my head and say, “nope.”

“Clicking or popping?”

“Nope.”

“Locking?” She inquires as she lifts her face up to mine.

She’s fucking close enough I can smell her minty breath. I could easily kiss her, but I’d probably get kneed in the nuts, so I just shake my head and say, “nah, just feels a little loose.”

“Okay,” she says, laying a soft pat on my thigh. It’s nothing but a move of reassurance, but fuck if I don’t feel it all the way through my gut.

She grabs her supplies and I can’t keep my eyes off her as she gets to work taping my knee. It takes merely a few minutes, and then she finishes the wrap, holding the end while taping it with the precut pieces. “There you go,” she says, stepping back.

“I’ve got something to confess. My knee was absolutely fine,” I blurt out, the words popping out of my mouth so suddenly, I’ve got no clue where they came from. Clearly my subconscious decided to overtake my sensibility and make itself known. “I came here because I wanted to see you. Thought I’d try to get your phone number and a date one last time before I give up.”

She gives a tinkling laugh. “You’re not a quitter, are you?”

“Well, no,” I reply with a grin. “So, tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up at seven. How does that sound?”

“Listen,” she smiles at me sweetly as she begins, but I don’t like the sound of it. Nothing good ever comes after ‘listen’. “You’re a nice guy-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I cut her as I hold my hands up. “Don’t go with the ‘nice guy’ brush off. Clearly I’m not if you won’t give me the time of day.”

“I just don’t think we’re looking for the same thing-”

“What?” I ask incredulously.

“Look, please don’t take this the wrong way, but you seem more like the bang ‘em and leave ‘em type to me.”

“Is that really how people see me?” I ask her curiously, without an ounce of defense in my voice because there’s no point in denying that. I really don’t care what people think, but I’d like to hear her opinion.

“You’re a player, Harry,” she says with a chuckle. “And there’s nothing wrong with that. You’re young and in your prime. You should totally be sowing all your wild oats. It’s just… I’m at the point in my life where I realise that meaningless sex without something deeper isn’t very fulfilling. I don’t want that anymore.”

I feel a metaphorical light bulb goes off in my head.

I know she doesn’t mean to, but fuck, she hits me right where it hurts. She’s called that exactly right. This is something that I’ve actually realised and known for a while, especially after seeing my best mates being the happiest they’ve ever been after they found their women. There’s not an ounce of regret in what I did though, because just like my girl right here said, there’s nothing wrong with that. There was a time when burning my way through all the hot women in LA and having them take turns warming my bed had its appeal, but not anymore.

Maybe this is why I’ve been feeling unfulfilled lately. I know I’ve got a great career, more money than I could ever need in a lifetime and endless selection of gorgeous women to warm my bed every night. What more could a man possibly ask for, right? But at the end of the day, it’s just me in a monstrosity of a house that I call home.

Maybe deep down I know I don’t want it to be just me anymore.

“I think I’ve actually known that for a while, but the way you point that out, I think it’s drilled home now,” I admit as I face her.

“What do you mean?”

“That casual, meaningless sex without something deeper isn’t very fulfilling,” I say with a smile. “I mean, yes what I did was fun, but then I look at my best mates and see how happy they are with their women. Of course I rib them good because hey, that’s my job as their best mate…”

She laughs.

“...but that doesn’t mean I never look at them and think, fuck, I want that one day. Maybe the idea didn’t really appeal to me because I had never found the right person, who knows. But I swear I don’t want just sex with you. I want more. Do I know what I’m doing? Fuck, no. I haven’t even been on a proper date in years. But I do know that I genuinely want to get to know you better, Doc, that is if you give me the chance.”

She gives me a dopey smile when she asks, “you mean all that?”

“I really do,” I nod solemnly. “Now let me prove it to you. Go on a date with me.”

“Tell you what,” she begins, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “If you go back on the ice and win the game, we can go to The Owner’s Box when you’re done to celebrate just like the other night. And if you behave, I’ll give you my number this time.”

“Want me to behave, huh?” I say teasingly with a waggle of my eyebrows. “Don’t fancy a bad boy?”

“Oh I actually have it bad for bad boys,” she smirks. “My favourite character in Harry Potter is Draco Malfoy.”

“Okay, I’ve got a counter offer,” I say as my laughter dies down. “If I get MVP tonight, which I’m pretty sure I will since you said it yourself that I’m on fire tonight, you give me your number straight away after the game and let me take you out to dinner. I’m thinking seven tomorrow night.”

Another roll of those gorgeous eyes that twinkle slightly at me. “Pushy, aren’t ya?”

“Only when I want something,” I tell her with a grin. “And I want you.”

“So do you want me or do you want to go out with me?” She asks slyly, tilting her head to the side.

“You gonna kick my balls if I say both?”

“I admire honesty,” she murmurs softly in that sexy, husky voice that seems to flow through my body and straight down to my dick.

“Hey boyfriend and girlfriend,” I hear Matt chirps from the doorway and my spine stiffens involuntarily. His shit-eating grin doesn’t lessen a bit even when I give him a glare. “Hate to steal your man, Doc, but the game is starting again soon and we kinda need our favourite asshole right here.”

“You two break a leg,” she chuckles. And then as an afterthought, she adds, “just so we’re clear, I don’t mean that literally.”

—

Manhattan Beach’s high-end strip of boutiques and restaurants are hugged by the beach on one side and some of California’s most expensive real estate on the other. It’s southern end blends seamlessly into smaller Hermosa Beach, which is similarly quiet but has a tight concentration of bars and restaurants near the town’s pier that attract bar-hoppers at night and sun-bleached dropouts during the day.

The Kings players’ houses are scattered evenly across the two towns. Some of us are clustered within a block or two of several teammates; others sprinkled little more than a mile or two away. All but one of the first-line players live in Manhattan Beach though, and we can easily walk or ride a beach cruiser to everyone else’s house.

YN lives in Silver Lake, and the drive to pick her up takes me about forty minutes. I know she must make a pretty good bank being an ER doctor, not to mention that she works at two places, but her house doesn’t scream that. It’s rather tiny, I’m betting not more than seven or eight hundred square feet max, and there’s not much of a porch but on the outer edge is a hanging basket of flowers.

There’s no doorbell so I rap my knuckles on the door. Flecks of peeling paint get knocked loose and fall to the concrete porch.

“Coming,” I hear her yell from inside and I can imagine her plopping in an earring, grabbing her handbag, and wondering if she turned the curling iron off. She sounds frazzled and rushed and I can’t wait to fucking see what she looks like when she opens the door.

And there she is.

She has a black dress on, and it’s not little but it’s spectacular. The neckline of the dress skims just below her collarbone so no skin or cleavage is exposed, but it doesn’t matter because the narrow waist and flared hips, all cocooned in black is sexy as shit. The hem of her dress comes down below her knees and the dress is so well fitted that I know there has to be a slit up the back so she can walk.

“Good grief you’re a sight for sore eyes,” I mutter as I let my eyes roam down and then back up again to find her smirking at me.

She’s got an off-white clutch bag tucked under an arm, and her head is leaning to the side so she can put her last earring in, exactly as I’d imagined.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” she says, still smirking at me. I’d worn my best suit tonight in black with black shirt underneath and no tie. Glad she likes what she sees.

I step back so she can lock her door, and she turns to me as she tosses her keys in her clutch. I hold my arm out to her and ask, “ready?”

She nods and smiles as she curls her fingers in just below my biceps, then I escort her to my car.

I’m taking her to this new restaurant that both Alex and Matt recommended when I asked them last night for the finest restaurant in LA. It had been so long since the last time I took a woman out for a proper date, so I knew I needed to ask my mates and that they would have the answer. They both swore by this place called Apron, but then told me it took at least two weeks to get a reservation. Luckily though Alex had booked a table for him and Sloane tonight, and they gladly gave me the reservation. Sure I had to take a good deal of ribbing from my teammates and their women last night at the bar where we celebrated our win, but I knew it would be worth it.

The drive to the restaurant is short, only about ten minutes. And we lapse into the same easy conversation right away, just like we did the other night at The Owner’s Box. Today was my day off and I did absolutely nothing so I’ve got nothing interesting to tell, but she had plenty of exciting cases at the emergency room today, which included a toddler swallowing a penny.

“Holy shit, how did you get the coin out?” I ask her.

She laughs. “You don’t take it out. You’ve got to let the kid pass it naturally.”

“He can do that?”

“Well,” she begins. “I did take an X-ray first to make sure that it was small and could pass safely.”

“Okay, okay, okay… what’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever had to remove from a patient?” I ask her with childish curiosity.

“Honestly, I think I’ve removed everything on the surface of the earth,” she snickers. “Coke bottle, tapeworms, coins, candles, but the strangest has got to be a stuffed animal. It was a Curious George doll, and… let’s just say that he’s no longer curious.”

“You’re joking right?” I bark in laughter as I park my car. We’ve arrived and I swear that was the shortest ten minutes of my life. “I mean… who does that?!”

“I wish,” she says with a wrinkle of her nose. “You’d be surprised if you know how many weirdos out there.”

I’m still chuckling as I exit my car, then I walk over to the passenger side to get her. I hold my arm out to her, and her hand so very easily slides into the crook of my elbow.

“You don’t think I’m one of them, right?”

She gives me a playful shrug. “Well, I don’t know, you might be a weirdo... I mean, I don’t know you well enough yet.”

I give her a smart-ass smirk. “Let’s remedy that then.”

—

“How’s that one?” I ask her as I finish a mouthful of this chocolate thingy. It was a chocolate ball concoction the waiter had poured more hot chocolate over, which then melted the ball to reveal a raspberry chocolate torte inside. She had a bite, but it was too rich for her. I agree though, it was a lot of damn chocolate.

“You’ve got to try this,” she says, spearing the lemon meringue pie with her fork, top it with a little bit of pine nut ice cream and holding it over the table to me.

It’s a completely intimate move and one that I didn’t expect from her tonight. I mean, she was reluctant to go out with me in the beginning and needed some convincing, so I expected her to be reserved and cautious. But hell I’m not complaining.

I lean in and let her feed me the dessert. The flavours explode on my tongue and I think that’s the best we’ve had tonight.

I don’t normally indulge in dessert, but they all sound good so I told her we should order all the ones we like the sound of. Which was most of them except that cucumber mousse and pickle ice cream because those sound like disasters on a plate.

“Good, huh?” She asks with a smile.

“Really good,” I tell her. “I think I like that one best.”

“Finish it then,” she says as she pushes the plate towards me. “I can’t possibly take another bite. I’m stuffed to the brim.”

“Alright,” I say with a chuckle as I pull the plate closer to me. “So, when are you free again so I can take you out to another date?”

She chuckles. “We’re not even finished with this one.”

I roll my eyes at her, then I ask, “are you having a good time?”

Her smile turns dopey and I know she’s just as smitten with me as I am with her. “This is definitely the best first date I’ve ever been on.”

“If we were finished, considering how things have gone, would you go out with me again?”

“I would.”

“Good,” I say with an emphatic nod. “So, weekend or weekdays? When will it work best for you?”

—

I slow the speed on the treadmill, taking me down from a brisk run to a slow walk so I can cool down. Normally I like to run outside in the morning, but I woke up late this morning and we had a team skate scheduled at ten, so I figured I’d just do my workout afterwards at the arena.

Only a few of us actually have a gym membership outside. Most of us prefer to work out at the arena because not only is the equipment better, but we also have an abundance of teammates to work out with and that’s always nice.

I walk for about five minutes to cool down, then I turn the machine off and wipe my face with a towel. I grab my phone and water bottle and turn for the barbells, as today I’m working my chest and shoulders. Mitch and Marcel are already lifting, both defensemen who tend to focus on brute strength versus speed and stamina, so I’m not surprised they didn’t go for the treadmill. I also see Matt there, and I bet Alex will join us too after he’s done cooling down.

“Have a nice run, princess?” Marcel asks dryly as I set my stuff down near the bench press.

“I’m not the one who has to prove my manhood by how much weight I can lift,” I return with a sly grin.

“Yeah, well, your manhood is in a dry spell,” he says as he loads some weight onto the bar. Pre the hot doctor, both Marcel and I were the only single guys in the first line. He’s just as much as a player—on and off the ice—as I was, but now I gladly pass the title to him.

“Not true,” Matt quips with a grin. “He went on a date last night.”

“No shit,” Marcel turns to me in astonishment. “With who?”

Before I can even answer Alex throws a quick glance at us, flashes a shit-eating grin, and yells from the treadmill, “the new doctor.”

“But I saw you two got pretty cosy at The Owner’s Box last week,” Marcel says, as if he’s still confused as hell.

“Well yeah, she was cool, so I took her out again,” I say firmly.

“Dude, what’s wrong with you?” He blinks at me. Eyes all round and not comprehending. “You never look at the same woman twice.”

“So?” I ask, playing dumb.

“Ooh, I get it,” he says with a smirk. “Pussy that good, huh?”

“Hey,” I cut in with a warning. “I’m not there yet.”

They all suddenly stop whatever they’re doing and turn to me with raised eyebrows. Yes, Mitch included, which I’m actually quite surprised.

“Whoa, hang on,” Marcel says. “You haven’t tapped that yet?”

“You’re serious?” Matt looks at me in disbelief. “Not even last night?”

“Dude, I gave you that reservation last night to give you the opportunity,” Alex says as he walks towards us. “I was genuinely worried about your balls.”

They’re still looking at me confused, but Adam howls with laughter. “Don’t listen to these pigs. Rachel and I took it real slow at the beginning of our relationship too, and I got to tell you, the anticipation was half the fun.”

It’s true. I’m in no rush with YN because I know we’ll get there sooner or later. I can be patient when I want to be, and right now I honestly want to. I want to prove to her that when I said I wanted to get to know her, I meant her as a person and not just carnally.

I could tell that I confused her last night when I dropped her off at her doorstep after our date. I gave her nothing but a soft, brief kiss to her cheek, then told her to get inside, lock up and get some rest. Sure, she was confused for a few seconds, but the smile that I got after she realised that I really did want to take things slow was so much more than worth it.

“So you think this thing with the hot doctor is going to go the distance?” Matt asks me.

“I do,” I say confidently. I’m not dumb enough not to realise that she hasn’t fully let her guard down yet for whatever reason. Maybe she’d been badly hurt in the past, maybe it’s my past that causes her to be a little bit sceptical, I mean... let’s be honest, I was a player through and through. But that doesn’t scare me though, because I know I’m in it for the long haul. So yes, I can say it with confidence that this thing between us is going to go the distance.

“Well, if you fuck it up, I’ve got the first crack at her,” Marcel says with a salacious grin. I don’t think twice before I grab my wet towel and throw it at him. It hits him right in the face, and my teammates howl with laughter.

All this talk about her makes me want to see her again. I’ve secured a second date last night for next Wednesday since that’s when both of us will be free, but that’s still four days away and I can’t wait that long. So I pull up my phone and type out a quick text to her.

Hey, what are you doing today?

I grab my water bottle and take a slug. Before I put my water bottle down, I already got a response. I need to go and get a new bed frame. Really can’t stand this old thing anymore.

I can’t help but chuckle. She did tell me last night about her bedroom set which was apparently really old, but she couldn’t get rid of it since it’d been in the family for a few generations and her grandmother gave it to her when she bought her house.

Want some company? I quickly type.

She’s just as fast in her response. You want to go with me buy a bed frame?

Well, yeah. I’ve finished the team skate this morning and will be done with my workout soon. I’ve got nothing to do after and I want to see you. I reply.

Alright then. She texts me back within a minute. But I’m on-call though so I can be called to the hospital any time.

Doesn’t matter, I still want to see you. I text her back. When can I pick you up?

Give me half an hour.

Perfect.

—

I’ve bought three houses in my twenty-seven years of life; the one I currently live in, one in Toronto when I was still with the Leafs before I got traded to the Kings and one for my mum back in London. And yet not once have I ever gone on a furniture shopping.

Until today.

That was something I never in a million years would have dreamed to do, simply because I hated shopping with a burning passion. Hell, I didn’t even buy things for my own house because I paid the previous owner to leave everything behind. That kind of thing was honestly just something that I would have never taken the time for.

And yet, in shuffling through my memories, I really can’t remember having such a great time before. All I know is that I don’t want the day to end, and I also know that it has everything to do with the company.

I know we’ve only known each other for a few weeks, and technically we’ve only been on one date even though we saw each other quite often at the arena. But there was nothing odd when my hand would find its way to her thigh, or when she’d drape her arm across my shoulders so her fingers could play with my hair as we cruised along from one furniture shop to another. I love that we’re at ease with each other as if we’d known each other forever, not to mention that she’s also one of the easiest women I’ve had the pleasure of talking to in a long time.

Sadly though, it had to end when she was called to the hospital. Luckily, it was just in time after she chose a particular bed frame that she liked. It’s a classic canopy bed in live-edge oakwood with a brushed brass iron base, and I felt like a pig because even as we were still at the shop, I was already thinking about which ties from my collection would work best.

They offered same-day delivery since they had it in the storage, and since she was needed at the hospital, I offered to wait for the delivery at her home for her. She agreed, so she gave me her key after I dropped her at the hospital.

And here I am. Sitting on her bedroom floor trying to build this bloody nightmare because apparently they didn’t offer assembly service. I’ve been at it for an hour and a half now. Okay, no, more like an hour and ten minutes because I spent about twenty minutes fixing the sink in her en suite. I noticed the faucet was leaking, and I needed to step away from that bloody bed for a little anyway.

Now I don’t have another excuse, so I’m back on hammering one of the bazillion nails into the wood. I’m so focused on the task that I didn’t realise YN is home until I hear her chuckling as she walks into her bedroom and say, “you know, that is the kind of pounding that’s supposed to happen after you’re in the bed.”

I can’t help it. I fucking throw my head back and bust out laughing. “Sod off.”

“You don’t have to do it, that looks complicated. I’ll just hire someone to put it together tomorrow,” she says with a sweet smile. “Just get up and go sit on the couch. I just need to go to the bathroom real quick and then I’ll join you.”

“Yeah, that won’t do, Doc,” I say firmly. “I’ll still finish this bloody thing even if it kills me.”

“Stubborn,” she quips affectionately with a roll of her eyes as she heads towards her en suite.

“Smart-ass,” I reply with my eyes pinned to one of the million pieces of her bed frame, also with affection.  

“Harry?” She calls out from her en suite.

“Yeah?” I answer, when I look up, she’s leaning against the doorframe and looking at me confused.

“Am I crazy or did you actually fix my sink?” She asks with an arched eyebrow. “Because I swear the faucet still leaks a little this morning.”

“Yeah, I did,” I say with a wave of my hand. “I needed to walk away from this for a minute and when I went to your en suite, I noticed it leaked. Not a big deal though, took me only about fifteen minutes.”

“Well, good to know that if you ever quit your day job, you have a career in plumbing,” she snickers. “But seriously, you didn’t have to do that, and you certainly don’t have to finish that.”

“It’s what any boyfriend would do, Doc,” I say with a nonchalant shrug.

“You’re not my boyfriend.”

“Yes I am,” I roll my eyes. “I took you on a date last night and I’m taking you out again on Wednesday. I’m not seeing anyone else, so that means we’re dating. And technically that makes me your boyfriend.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she sputters but I can see the amusement twinkling in her eyes. “Besides… I might be seeing someone else.”

“You’re not,” I say with relative certainty.

“How did you change just like that is beyond me,” she murmurs, the appreciation in her voice evident.

I let out a chuckle. “Just get your butt in there and go chill on the couch after. I’m pretty sure I’ll be done in about half an hour, then we can order something for dinner.”

“Yes sir,” she says with a mock salute, which makes me snort.

—

An hour later, her bed is finally built and as I walk into her kitchen I see her putting the plates on the table. It smells phenomenal here, and I’m surprised when I look at the table because how the hell did she manage to cook all that in an hour?

I take advantage of her back facing me by putting my hands at her hips and pressing my chest onto her back. I nuzzle my face into the crook of her neck and it takes everything in me not to kiss her there. The combination of her perfume and the faint smell of antiseptic is sexy to me. So I can’t help but hum and mumble, “smells delicious.”

“The chicken?” She murmurs.

“Among other things,” I reply softly.

She chuckles. “Come on, let’s dig in while it’s still hot.”

I take a seat in front of her before I select a drumstick from a plate of fried, spicy goodness and put it on my plate. There’s something about the fact that YN made it that makes me believe it will be the best chicken I’ve ever had. Today will no doubt go down as one of the best days ever, which I seem to think a lot when I’m around this woman.

As she dishes me some salad, I honestly can’t wait anymore and take a bite of the chicken. Her eyes snap to me when I let out a groan.

“Good?” She asks with a grin.

I can’t help but let out another groan of approval as I take another bite. “Damn, Colonel, you never told me you make a mean fried chicken.”

“I’m not just a pretty face,” she shrugs smugly.

“Or a fine ass,” I tease. “If you want to quit your day job you can totally open up a fast food chain. Your fried chicken puts KFC to shame.”

She laughs as she cuts some cornbread and puts it on my plate. “Now try this, I make a mean cornbread too.”

“Mmm,” I say in pleasure as I take the first bite.

“Okay, you need to stop with the sexy moaning,” she grumbles with a tiny smirk before she turns back to her dinner. “You’re so bad. I think you’re trying to take advantage of me.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” I laugh. “And besides, you’re just as bad.”

“True,” she replies with a sly smile. “I can be bad too.”

“But just how bad are we talking here?” I ask with a smirk.

“Not bad enough to sleep with you tonight,” she says before she takes a sip of water. After she swallows, she adds, “but totally bad enough I might get frisky with you.”

I give her a mock groan and look up to the ceiling. “A tease. I’ve saddled myself with a tease tonight.”

She laughs.

We talk about what she did at the hospital today as we eat, and her job in general, and it never fails to thrill me the things that she can do. She’s a jack of all trades when it comes to medicine, needing to be able to diagnose and stabilise, often in pressure-filled situations where time is of the essence. I can’t even imagine having the responsibility of someone’s life in my hands like that, and yet she seems to be able to leave it all behind. She talks openly and often with humour about her work, but she also admits that sometimes she can’t help but bear the burden of death too when her skills just don’t make a difference.

I admire her so fucking much. Never admired a woman before, but in fairness… I never looked too deeply at them.

I’m seeing YN through unfiltered eyes and I like everything that I’m seeing.

—

Something is squirming in my arms and it wakes me up.

I tighten my arm around it in response to the movement and pull it back slightly against my body.

Wait? What?

Sleep.

Couch.

We fell asleep on her couch while watching a film.

It all comes back in a rush. Our totally awesome conversation over equally awesome food she cooked that I couldn’t stop raving about all night. I had three pieces of chicken by the way. We talked more about our backgrounds, me growing up in Cheshire and her childhood in South Carolina. We had a few beers, and when she asked me if I wanted to stay a bit and watch a film or something, of course I said hell yes.

The fact that she asked made me smile, because it meant that she was having a good time too with me. So we ended up on her couch watching Jaws, and I liked that she didn’t even hesitate when I lay down on her couch, pressed my back against the cushions and patted the area in front of my hips. I’m pretty sure she can see the devilish gleam in my eyes when I said, “come on… let’s cuddle.”

“Wow… Harry Styles, big bad hockey player, shameless flirt, total panty dropper. Didn’t peg you as a cuddler.”

“I’m a big teddy bear, honey,” I said with a grin and open arms.

She fell asleep first, and I know I should’ve left but the slightest movement from me would definitely wake her up. I know she must be tired so I decided against it and closed my eyes instead.

“Morning,” she says in a husky, raspy, ‘I just woke up’ voice and it’s sexy as fuck.

“Morning,” I reply, my own voice is still rough with sleep. I wonder if she thinks that’s sexy too. “You slept good?”

“Mhmm,” she hums softly, but then immediately groans as she glances at the clock above the telly. “Ugh, I have to be in the hospital in about an hour.”

She then tries to extricate herself from my arms, but I pull her back in close and nuzzle her neck as I point out, “you work a lot.”

“Ha, tell me about it,” she says with a dry laugh. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love my job. It’s just I wish I could sleep for three days straight sometimes.”

“Do you even have a day off in the week?” I ask curiously.

“I do,” she answers with a nod. “It was actually my day off yesterday, but I was filling in for a colleague.”

I loosen my hold and let her sit up in front of me. “Go get in the shower, I’ll make us both a quick breakfast.”

“You can cook?”

“Well, if I give you food poisoning you’re heading to the hospital anyway,” I chuckle.

In the kitchen, I grab some eggs and a pack of English muffins from her fridge. A quick breakfast sandwich sounds good, and portable just in case she needs to eat on her way to the hospital. I crack open a couple of eggs, scramble them with a fork and add salt and pepper while my skillet heats up. I put a bit of olive oil in the pan before I toss the English muffins into her toaster to crisp, then set coffee to brew in her Keurig. I’m moving around her kitchen as if I was born here.

By the time I pour the eggs into the pan, she walks out of her bedroom in her scrubs. I smile and nod at the Keurig as I say, “coffee’s ready.”

“And damn, you’re hot in those scrubs,” I add with a grin, giving the eggs a last scramble before pulling them off the heat.

“You’re joking right?” She says, wrinkling her nose as she grabs the milk from the fridge and turns my way, letting the door swing shut on its own.

“I’m serious, Doc,” I say with a smirk. “I wouldn’t mind getting a thorough exam from you. Preferably in your new canopy bed though so I can tie you up after for a payback.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter. It’s eight in the morning,” she laughs and I snort in return.

She then pours some milk in her coffee, pulls the cup to her mouth, and blows across the steaming surface. Her eyes meet mine over the edge of the cup as she takes a tentative sip. “Are we still on for Wednesday?”

“Of course,” I say with a confident smile.

“What have you got planned?”

“Well, you’ll have to wait and see,” I tease her. “Just to warn you though, I may or may not gonna put my hands all over you.”

I don’t tell her that by putting my hands all over her, I mean on the ice to keep her from falling since I plan to take her ice-skating on the team’s practice rink. I don’t want to spoil the surprise, and besides, I’d be lying if I said I never thought of other ways too. The way she’s looking at me right now assures me that she does too, and well, that’s good.

We can compare notes on that later when we get there.

—

Blinking at me with a sleepy smile on her face, YN stands up from my couch. I walk up to her and she pushes me down into her seat, and then crawls onto my lap.

This is nice.

Our date on Wednesday was amazing, and as we walked inside, she turned to me and asked, “so this was your big plan to put your hands on me?”

I just laughed in response, and I did have to put my hands on her quite a lot in the end since she didn’t know how to ice-skate. Fuck if I’m complaining though.

Now we’re snuggled up on the couch at my house with full bellies. Last weekend she cooked me amazing food, so today, I wanted to impress her by cooking a roast dinner and introduced her to Yorkshire pudding. Sure, I was on the phone with my mum the entire time so she could give me directions, but I only almost burnt down my kitchen once so I’d call that a success.

I lean forward, which pushes her slightly to the edge of the couch, then I reach an arm over her and grab a packet of KitKat from the coffee table. I’m glad when I learnt that it is actually her favourite chocolate too, because KitKat is elite and it’s good to know we’re on the same page.

“Want another?” I ask her.

“No,” she groans. “I’m so full.”

I chuckle and awkwardly unwrap the chocolate. Awkward because I have to open it in front of her face since I have my arms around her, and once I got it opened, I hold the naked little chocolate bars in front of her mouth and tease, “want a bite?”

She shakes her head.

I wave it under her nose and I guess the smell of the chocolate changes her mind because then she says, “okay, a little bite.”

I break the bars and feed one of it to her, letting her take a bite and then chucks the rest in my mouth. We chew silently as we watch Marlin looking for Nemo, and I sigh in contentment when she tucks her face into my neck and drapes one arm across my chest.

It takes no more than ten minutes before I notice her breathing has slowed down and she’s fallen asleep. I rest my cheek on the top of her head and continue watching these fishies. I’m a little drowsy from all the food, but I resist the urge to fall under. For now, I just want to savour my existence at this moment because as Dory says to Marlin, “I look at you and I’m home”, I truly realise that’s how she makes me feel.

I’m sitting in my house, but for once, it doesn’t feel empty anymore. I just had a wonderful meal where we talked and joked and flirted, and now I have a gorgeous woman who I’m crazy about curled up on my lap.

There is absolutely no other place I’d rather be right now.

—

“Dude, you’re so fucking whipped,” Alex says as he punches me on the shoulder. I jerk slightly and reluctantly take my gaze off YN to look his way.

“What do you mean?” I ask as I take a swig of my beer and promptly look back at my girl. She’s standing just ten feet away, sipping on her own beer and talking animatedly with Sloane and Brynne. We’re at The Owner’s Box tonight having our first triple date, and I’m having a brilliant time. The only thing better would be if YN would quit chatting with the girls and get her sweet ass over here to sit next to me.

“Fucking hopeless,” Matt mutters and Alex snickers.

I blink and turn to look at them. “What? Why am I hopeless?”

“Because you can’t fucking take your eyes off of your girl for more than two seconds,” Alex jeers at me. Then he leans in towards me and murmurs with a mocking sneer, “pussy.”

“Bollocks that,” I say haughtily. “I can take my eyes off of her longer than that.”

“Good,” Matt says, handing me an empty beer bottle. “Go get us some more beer.”

“Assholes,” I say with good nature and head towards the bar. Stopping beside my girl, I kiss her on the temple. “You girls want anything else to drink?”

Sloane and Brynne shake their heads, smiling coyly at me as they watch my uncharacteristic display of affection. I’m immensely pleased when YN smiles at me and rests her hand on my chest. “I’m good, but thank you.”

“Be right back,” I tell the girls, and then I set out to prove Alex and Matt wrong.

I swivel my gaze back to Matt and Alex, and I give a sheepish grin when Matt mouths the word pussy at me. I flip him off and head towards the bar, intent on not looking back at my girl for at least the next few minutes it takes me to get the beers.

“Excuse me,” I hear and feel a tap on my shoulder. “Harry, can we get an autograph and a picture?”

As I turn around with a warm smile in my place, the word sure is out of my mouth before I even see who’s asking. I’m met by a vision of holy hotness as two women stand there with tight-as-hell t-shirts cut obscenely low and with plenty of silicone boobs pouring out.

Just a mere month ago, I would have whispered a prayer of thanks to the big man upstairs for sending these two my way, knowing well that I’d be banging the hell out of one of them before the night was finished. Instead, my stomach tightens and I glance past them to see YN still deep in conversation with Sloane and Brynne.

I bring my gaze back to the women… a brunette and a blonde, both looking at me with promise in their eyes.

“Do you mind taking your picture with us?” The blonde asks with a bat of her eyelashes.

I give her a quick smile and say, “sure, no problem.”

She steps up to me as she hands her phone to the brunette. I lift my arm to sling it companionably around her shoulders, but she uses that opportunity to press intimately into my side, bringing both arms around my waist and mashing her breasts against my ribs.

“Thanks so much,” the blonde says in a seductive voice. “Can we buy you a drink?”

“No, thanks,” I decline with a smile. “I’ve got some friends waiting for me.”

“An autograph, then?” She asks.

“Sure.”

The blonde digs in her handbag and pulls out a sharpie. She then hands it to me and says, “can you make mine out to Kourtney with a K?”

“You got it,” I say, eager to get this over with because it feels awkward to me to have this woman coming onto me with my girl standing just a few feet away.

“Just sign here,” she says and my jaw drops as she pulls the edge of her t-shirt down her chest, practically exposing her entire right breast to me.

“Uh, you got a piece of paper instead?” I ask her. “I don’t think my girlfriend would like that.”

“You bet your ass she won’t,” I hear my girl quips from behind me and I’m trying my best not to laugh. I like that she immediately snuggles into my side so those women now would have no doubt that I’m totally hers, “wanna go play some pool, baby? Loser buys the drinks.”

“You’re on,” I tell her, Kourtney with a K and her friend are long forgotten. “But just to warn you, I’m really good.”

“Honey, I was practically born on one of these tables with a beer in my hand,” she says smugly, “you’re going down.”

—

“Do you want to come in?” YN asks as she pulls out her keys from her handbag. We’ve just got back from The Owner’s Box and as usual, I walk her to the door.

My tone is low, soft, and barely audible when I say, “Doc, if I come inside tonight, I don’t think I can promise you to keep my hands to myself.”

“I don’t want you to promise me anything,” she replies firmly. “Whatever happens, happens. Now, let’s not dawdle on my porch and get inside. Want some more beers?”

“Whoa, don’t hand me ammunition,” I joke and she laughs. “I’ll take some water though.”

“There’s some water bottles in the fridge,” she says, pointing to the tiny kitchen that sits at the rear of the house, past the living room. “I’ll be right back.”

I get two bottles of water out of the fridge and head back into her living room. I take a seat on the couch and pull out my phone, scrolling mindlessly as I wait for my girl.

When she reappears, she’s wearing a pair of sleep shorts and a white t-shirt. Her hair is pulled into a ponytail and her makeup has been washed off. Her in a t-shirt and tiny shorts is a hundred times sexier than her in literally anything else—yes, including her scrubs—and there’s no stopping my downstairs head from waking up.

“Come here.”

Her eyebrows rise, but I don’t miss the clear interest in her eyes. “Come there?”

I tap my thigh, “right here.”

Her cheeks flush and a little puff of breath blows out of her. With absolutely no hesitation, she crawls onto my lap. Our gazes are locked tight and her eyes darken with intensity. When her chest comes level with mine, and her knees are pressed into the cushion just inches from my crotch, she asks me softly, “you going to finally kiss me?”

“I’m thinking about it,” I tease her as my hands come around her lower back, pressing her onto me.

Fuck, she feels good against me. Just her soft curves and warmth and I’m already starting to get hard before I even lay my mouth on hers.

She looks at me with sizzling eyes as we stare at each other, knowing that once we take this step, our relationship is going to another level.

Leaving one hand on her lower back, I slide the other up and over the shoulder, letting my palm glide up her neck so my fingers can tangle in her hair. She shivers when my thumb strokes her jaw before I cup my hand around the back of her head.

Her hands reach out and circle behind my neck. Then she whispers as she licks her lower lip, “so this is it?”

“This is it,” I tell her, and because I absolutely cannot wait one second longer, I put pressure on the back of her head to lock our mouths together. The first touch of her lips against mine causes pleasure to punch straight through my groin, and the world just absolutely melts away.

There’s nothing else but her.

Lips so fucking soft, tongue tentative and sweet. Her hair silky to the touch and her skin warm as my hand snakes up just under the edge of her t-shirt.

She tilts her head, opens her mouth more and kisses me deeper. I groan and pull her tighter to me. My hand fists tighter into her hair, hampered by the hair tie somewhat but not giving a fuck. Her hips start to rotate slightly, rubbing herself along the top of my thigh. My dick gets achingly hard as she starts to make tiny sounds of need in the back of her throat.

My other hand slips down her back and palms her backside, then I give a tentative squeeze. I think she likes that, because her hips shift forward and she starts to grind her crotch on my leg. I press against her ass, encouraging her to keep moving against me. She does it again and shudders in my arms, so I know it’s hitting her in the right spot.

Pulling on her hair, I break the kiss just enough so I can growl at her, “get yourself off, darling. Right here. On my leg.”

Her eyes fly open and they’re full of fire and sexual need as they stare back at me. Her lips curve up in a wicked smile of acquiescence and I pull her back down to my mouth for a hard kiss.

She rotates her hips in circles, then alternates flexing back and forth. I clench my thigh muscle, wanting to give her as hard a surface as possible to stimulate herself. I slip my hand down the back of her shorts, finding bare skin. I squeeze and push her down on me, helping her to move faster on my leg.

She pants and moans softly as she works herself up. I have to force myself not to push my hand down further between her legs. I’m bound and determined not to go there yet, and besides, this is hot as fuck and completely satisfying to me.

She moves faster and faster, making tiny cries of yearning into my mouth as we kiss. Then she punches her pelvis down hard onto my thigh, going still for a moment before her entire body starts quaking in silent orgasm. I hear nothing but a soft sigh of pleasure escape her lips and slither over my tongue.

Her body goes limp in my arms. She lifts her head, our lips parting, and looks down at me with glazed eyes. I press my lips to her briefly just once more, before I pull my hand out of the back of her shorts and roll her body off me. As I stand up and hover over her for a minute, I see her cheeks flushed rosy and her nipples pebbled hard, even through her t-shirt.

Placing a hand on the couch cushion, I lower myself to her and brush my lips across her forehead. “Get a good night’s sleep.”

“Wait- you’re leaving?” She asks, confusion coating her expression.

“Yes,” is all I say.

“But-”

“I’ll take a cold shower when I get home, no worries,” I assure her with a smile. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“I had a great time tonight, Harry,” she tells me, still looking like a wet noodle on the couch so I don’t think she’ll be getting up anytime soon.

“I did too,” I smile at her over my shoulder as I reach for her door.

It’s in this moment that I’m pretty sure I’m a goner for her.

—

I see the hottest, sexiest, most adorable doctor walking across the darkened parking lot towards me. Well, towards her car. Her head is tucked down and she looks tired. When she finally looks up and locks her eyes on me, the exhaustion melts away and I’m rewarded with a happy, welcoming smile from her.

“You really have to stop stalking me in parking lots,” she quips as she walks closer.

Then closer still until the tips of her shoes touch the tips of mine and she’s offering her mouth to me for a kiss. Obviously, I take it, because who wouldn’t? Her lips are perfect. She tastes like mint gum and smells faintly of antiseptic, and that right there is my favourite combo.

When she pulls back, she tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear and asks, “seriously, what are you doing here?”

“I wanna take you somewhere,” I tell her as I grab her hand and take her towards my car that’s parked the next row over.

“Where?”

“Just get in the car, Doc.”

“You’re being vague,” she says with an arched eyebrow. “Is this where you kidnap me, take my kidney and sell it on eBay?”

“This is where I’ll find a way to occupy that beautiful mouth of yours if you keep asking questions and ruin the surprise,” I tell her and she gives a tinkling laugh.

“Promises, promises,” she singsongs and I just roll my eyes.

It only takes about fifteen minutes from Cedars-Sinai Hospital where she works to the closest beach where I plan to take her for an impromptu picnic date night. We only had to stop by to get some pizza because I already have a cooler with a six-pack of beers loaded in the back of my car. It’s a little too late for sunset, but the purplish black of twilight is lush.

“The beach, huh,” she deadpans. “You brought me out here to seduce me?”

“You naughty girl,” I clutch a hand to my chest and make an exaggerated gasp of disbelief. “That’s indecent exposure that is.”

She laughs as she opens the door of the car and hops out. I do the same, then I open the back door to pull out the pizza, blanket and the cooler with beers inside before letting her help by taking the blanket.

Somehow we have the beach to ourselves tonight, and she points out a nice spot for us to sit. I agree, so I let her spread out the blanket. After both of us have our butts firmly planted, side by side, facing the ocean, I take two beers out and hand one to her.

“Ooh, we’re going fancy tonight,” she says when she sees that I brought microbrews instead of cheap beer.

I chuckle as I open the pizza box and grab a slice of the cheesy goodness that will probably clog my artery, then we talk about our day as we eat. I tell her the funny things that happened at practice today, including a joke that Marcel told us in the locker room which most would probably find insulting, but I know my girl is used to locker room talk and would find it hilarious, and she tells me what she did in the hospital. Apparently, they were so busy today that her lunch break lasted less than ten minutes.

“You never cease to amaze me, Doc,” I tell her honestly. “It’s so cool what you do for a living. Impressive as hell.”

“Thanks, Harry,” she says softly. “That means a lot.”

It’s completely dark by the time we finish our pizza, but the view is still lush since the moon is bright, causing the water to look like it’s covered in floating, crushed diamonds.

We’re silent as we sip our beers, and I love that we can sit in comfortable silence as well as talk for hours. It’s crazy to think that it’s only been a few weeks that we’ve known each other yet I just feel such a strong connection with her. I love that we’re so in tune with each other that sometimes we say the same things and steal lines from one another. We have a similar sense of humour and we can even exchange an inside joke with just a glance.

I loosen my hold of her when she pulls away from my side embrace. Her head swivels to me, and I can see the moon glittering in her eyes. “I owe you an apology.”

“What?” I look at her in confusion.

“I misjudged you, Harry,” she says with a tender smile. “When you asked me out, I outright told you that you’re a player without even giving you a chance to explain yourself. I made an assumption, and that was wrong of me. I’m sorry.”

“And your assumption was right,” I tell her honestly with a light chuckle. “There is nothing to apologise for. It was common knowledge, I was a manwhore.”

She snorts. “Shut up, I’m serious.”

“Me too,” I squeeze her hand. “You didn’t misjudge me, Doc, you knew exactly the type of guy I used to be.”

She has a dreamy smile on her face when she says, “kiss me.”

“No, you come here and kiss me,” I say, and I’m pretty sure she can see my eyes sparkling with mischief.

She rolls her eyes and mutters “fine” under her breath as she plants her knees on the sides of my legs, but I don’t miss the light in her eyes which tells me that she likes the idea.

Closing her eyes, she dips her mouth to mine and now I’m wondering if the two years of jail time and a fine for indecent exposure is worth it if I were to take her right here right now.

—

We’re in New York for two away games in a row, tonight against the Rangers which we won 3-1, and tomorrow night against the Devils. I’m chuffed not only because we won and I played great, but I also had a great day today before the game with my girl. We didn’t do much since she wanted me to save my energy for the game tonight, but we did walk around our hotel and ended up napping on the couch in the room that I share with Marcel.

We all ride on the team bus that takes us from the hotel to the arena and back to the hotel after we finish the game. I wanted her to sit next to me, but for both trips, to the arena and back, she gave me a slight shake of her head and sat with the girls along with the rest of the staff in the front.

When I hop off the bus though, I see her waiting for me with a grin on her face. I kiss the fuck out of her, not caring about my teammates who whistle and yell, “get a room.”

“Which floor are you on again?” I ask her as we enter the lift. I want to walk her to her room just to spend a few minutes more with her.

Yeah, laugh all you want. I know I’m fucking whipped.

“Tenth,” she says, pulling her room key out of her handbag and hands it to me so I can scan it then tap the button on number ten.

“Wanna catch an early breakfast with me tomorrow?” I ask her as we approach her room that she shares with the team’s orthopaedic surgeon, Callie.

“Sure. What time?”

“We’re leaving for light skate practice at 9:30, so we should have plenty of time if we meet down there at 8:30.”

“Sounds good,” she nods as we reach her door.

There’s a handwritten note stuck in between the door and the jamb. She puts her key in the card slot, opens the door slightly, and snag the piece of paper. She opens it up and I look over her shoulder at the note as we read it silently together.

YN,

Marcel and Joslynn are hooking up and they’re in his room which means Harry has been kicked out. I’m going to sleep with Macy instead, so you and Harry can have this room. Unless you want Harry to go sleep with Macy?

No? Didn’t think so.

Have fun you two.

Callie

“This is Alex, Matt and Marcel’s doing,” I tell her with absolute certainty as she twists her neck to look at me. “I’ll just get an extra room for tonight.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she chuckles. “You can sleep here. We’ve spent the night together before.”

“Yeah, but that was different. We fell asleep on the couch, it wasn’t intentional,” I point out. “I don’t trust myself sleeping in the same bed with you, Doc. I’m not going to be able to help myself.”

“Well, good,” she says, smiling mischievously. “Cause I’m done wait-”

That’s as far as she gets before I push her through the door, backing her into the room. My mouth hits her only moments before her legs hit the edge of the bed and we both go tumbling onto it.

This is when we realise there’s a huge box of condoms with 144 packs inside it in the middle of the bed. On the top, there’s another note and I recognise Matt’s handwriting on it.

You’re welcome by the way

“I freaking love your teammates,” she says with a laugh.

I guess I owe those fuckers some beers.

[pepper-up-potion]

Starry nights (Remus Lupin x fem!reader)

Summary: Remus has a crush on reader but never directly admits it so reader grows impatient and fesses up before him.

Warnings: the mention of the word penis (not in a sexual way it’s a joke more specifically the penis game where u say the word lowered and lowered in a public place), nothing else, it’s just fluff

Word count: 1783 words

A/n: Once again a fic inspired by my relationship 🙈. I feel like Remus is one of those people that thinks you’re already dating and forgets to make it official (much like my bf) so I wrote a fic about that. Hope you like it :)

(Y/n) is scribbling away trying to finish her astronomy paper about Jupiter’s moons before the end of her free period. She’s gone up to the library where she expects no distractions and absolute silence.

This wish is met until she arrives at her concluding paragraph. Laughs erupt from the front entrance of the library and she suspects that is all the work she is going to get done before class. Three boys sit down in front of her while she finishes her sentence. She finally looks up at Sirius, James and Remus who have just started playing the penis game.

“Penis” James whispers.

“Penis” says Sirius with a normal register. The few students close by turn their heads and look in disapproval. To this the boys start howling with laughter.

Remus fills his lungs and gets ready to scream but she cuts him off.

“Shhhh. You’ll get us kicked out.” She whispers with her eyes narrowed.

Remus looks at her apologetically as he releases the air from his lungs. “Sorry” he mumbles, cheeks red.

“We’re bored y/n come hang out with us.” Says James with a whiny voice.

“Don’t you have work to do?” She whispers sharply. Maybe if Madam Pince sees her whispering she’ll only kick out the boys and let her stay and finish her paper.

“Ughh who caressss” groans Sirius.

“We were thinking of playing a short game of quidditch. Do you wanna come with us?” Remus whispers.

“It sounds fun but I really want to finish this paper before my next class.” His face falls when she declines but he quickly covers it with an acknowledging nod.

“nerd.” Coughs Sirius.

She sticks her tongue out at him making them chuckle.

They quickly realize she isn’t going to budge and before she knows it, they were gone. Grateful for the peace and quiet she focuses back to her paper and writes down another sentence. As she ponders on what to write next she looks up and notices a small bit of folded parchment that had not been there before the boys came to visit.

Looking around to make sure it couldn’t be someone else's, she reaches out and unfolds the paper. Maybe she will recognize one of the boys’ writing and give it back to them.

Meet me at the boathouse at 10:00 tonight. -Mooney

Her stomach fills with butterflies and a deep blush tints her cheeks. It’s been a month now they’ve been going on what feels like dates. It’s always just the two of them, the activity always more romantic than the last. Remus walks her back to her common room every time and there’s the occasional hand hold during these night excursions. Neither of them have addressed how they feel about each other. It’s like a secret they’re both trying to keep from each other. A belief that it’s better left unsaid. Sometimes she wonders what would happen if she told him how she felt.

~

Remus is standing at the edge of the harbor looking out at the still water.

“Should I have brought a bathing suit? Or maybe a life jacket? How good are you with boats?” She jokes with a quizzical brow.

Remus does a fast 180 and smiles wide as soon as he sees her face.

“Do you trust me (y/n)?” He asks, smirking.

I trust you more than anyone. I’ve never felt safer than when I’m with you. It’s what she wants to say. She looks in his soft eyes. It’s like he knows the answer already. She settles with a small nod instead.

He grabs her hand and guides her to one of the small boats. He steps in first, offering his hand to help her next. With the flick of his wand the boat moves forward.

“Where are we going?” She asks, already a few guesses in mind.

“You’ll see.” He smirks.

It’s mid-October and she can already feel the cold wind stinging her cheeks as the boat moves away from the castle and into the darkness. They mostly ride in silence. There’s the occasional question and anecdote about their day but they don’t really feel it’s necessary to fill the silence.

“Were here” he says after a while.

“What do you mean we're here? There’s nothing here but water!” She says in somewhat of a panic.

“No love, look behind you.” The surname makes her stomach knot on itself and she feels her cheeks turn that familiar pink. She still can’t believe how easily he can get her all flustered.

She turns at the same time as the boat docks onto an island.

“This is bowtruckle island.” Remus says as he climbs out of the boat and gives her a hand out. “I come here when I need some time away from the boys. This is the only place they don’t know I go to. I call it my safe haven.”

She laughs but after looking at the small island, she sort of understands what he means. “There’s something sort of serene about this place. I can see why you like it.”

“Exactly.” He looks at her in absolute admiration. He knew she would see it too, it’s like she understands him perfectly, she feels what he feels.

For a moment they both stand awkwardly on the shore before Remus pulls out a pack. He walks towards the large tree that almost takes up the whole surface of the island. He pulls a blanket and two small pillows from the pack and lays them out on the ground. He looks up at (y/n) and points to one of the pillows.

“I thought we could look at the stars together.” He suggests.

She smiles and nods in agreement. She never knew Remus could be such a romantic until they started these “dates”.

Their conversations flow smoothly as they talk about the stars and classes and funny memories, getting more and more familiar with one another. They eventually fall into a comfortable silence. The rhythmic sound of the water swishing onto the shore helps her drift away into her thoughts. She wishes she could stay there forever. She feels at her best when she’s with Remus. She thinks maybe she should tell him that. Maybe she should tell him everything she’s ever thought about him. How badly she wants to kiss him. How much she wishes they could be a couple and walk around the school hand in hand to rub in everyone’s face that they are together. How she’s had a crush on him ever since he smiled and shook her hand when they first met in second year.

Her thoughts are interrupted by a sudden warm feeling around her hand. Remus had intertwined his fingers with hers. She turns her head towards him and they lock eyes. There’s a hopeful glint in his eyes. He turns his body a bit to face her and leans forward. She closes her eyes in anticipation for their first kiss when a strong gust of wind swoops their way. It sends a strong shiver down her spine and immediately kills the moment as she curls into herself and unintentionally moves away from Remus.

“Cold?” He whispers. It’s soft but there’s a light growl indicating he’s bummed. He sits up and grabs another blanket from his bag and unfolds it.

“This should hel-“

“What is this Remus?” It comes off much harsher than she had anticipated but she hardly had time to think before she spat out the words. She thinks maybe it would have been better to say any of the things she had been thinking before he went in for a kiss but she’s quite flustered. She’s fallen for Remus years ago and her feelings grow stronger every time they see each other. She just wants more clarity on what is going on between them and she’s growing impatient about it.

“What?” A panicked look crosses his face. “It’s a blanket...?” He tries.

“No Remus, I mean this.” She sits up and gestures to her surroundings. He furrows his brows in confusion. “Well, you’ve been planning these elaborate and romantic nights where we hold hands and do couple things and I have so much fun every time and I feel like we get along really well and I really like you, like I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else because you’re so kind and caring and thoughtful and funny and you smell good and you have nice hair and you’re the only person I want to take home to meet my parents and then kiss in my room afterwards.” She rambles out in one breath. Remus chuckles with a look of pure delight on his face as (y/n) pants completely out of breath, cheeks tomato red from the blunt confession.

“Do I have to wait until I meet your parents to kiss you?” He asks. She can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

“Please don’t.”

He cups her cheek before leaning forwards and softly placing his lips to hers. It starts slow and tentative but quickly develops into a desperate kiss as they make up for years of lustful temptations. Remus places a hand behind her head and one on her waist and guides her down onto the blanket as she hums softly in encouragement.

“Woooooo!”

“Finally!”

“Yeah Mooney!”

The cheers echo on the lake as Remus and (y/n) jump apart in surprise. They spot another boat on the water with three boys in it. Remus shakes his head as Sirius jumps up in excitement which sways the boat so far that Peter falls in the water. Peter pulls on the boat until it capsizes and soon there are three heads bobbing in the water.

“Merlin, I can’t with those three.” Remus shakes his head but his adoring smile says otherwise. “This is your final chance to back out. I can’t even take you to my quiet place without them interrupting.” He points his thumb towards the three who are now bickering on how to turn the boat over.

She places her finger on her chin pretending to think about it. “Hmmm, I think the benefits out weigh the consequences” She concludes.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” he says as he fills the space between stopping before their lips meet and quickly jerking back. “Just to be clear, I like you too.” He blurts with a panicked face and hands out to stop her from leaning forward.

“I’m happy we got that cleared up.” She smiles wide. “Now get back here.” She whispers as she wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him in for another kiss, the sound of the boys yelling fading out as the kiss deepens.

[lokislastlove]

Best Laid Plans (Fluffy Bucky x Reader) p3

Summary: Bucky is determined to woo you properly, no matter how rusty he is at dating these days.

Warnings: Some smut at the end, oral (fr), Bucky has bad luck, but we love him anyway. 18+ only please.

This is my first attempt at Fluff, it is not my strength, to say the least, so by all means ignore this. @saiyanprincessswanie I wrote this for you, I hope you like it and with any luck maybe it brings a tiny smile to your face when you need it. 💕 Also remember this is fiction, I know Bucky’s arm is fancy as hell and has no flaws.

Chapter 3 -

🌹 The Third Date 🌹

The office is abuzz with rumors of your new romance. For obvious reasons Pepper never shuns coworkers dating, but does caution that she expects everyone to remain professional regardless of the outcome. Bucky is one of the most sought after bachelors in the building so naturally people notice when he fixes his attention on you. For the two days following your fruit-filled frolic in the hills Bucky is constantly around. He brings you coffee, flowers by the dozen every day, saves you a seat during the meetings, cooks you lunch and even brings Kal in to see you.

“Okay, I can’t wait any longer. You willing to give me that second chance, tomorrow?” Bucky bursts into your office an hour before you leave Friday evening.

You gasp as the door slams against the wall and he cringes, “uh, sure. I’m free tomorrow. Should I just go ahead and wear my yoga pants?”

“Ha ha. Very funny. And no. I let Steve pick the date idea this time. Just don’t wear anything that you don’t want getting a little dirty,” he winks.

You let out a sigh, “wouldn’t it be easier to just tell me what we’re doing?”

“That’s no fun, Angel.”

——

The next morning you wake up to a text from Bucky, just like you have every morning since your first date.

Good Morning, Beautiful! Can’t wait to see you today. I’ll pick you up at 11am. 😀

Bucky has managed to make waking up a highlight of your day, something you never thought possible. Plus you got him to start using emojis, which Steve claims he will never forgive you for.

You choose some dark wash jeans and a V-neck t-shirt with a jacket and boots. Stylish but casual, you feel good, excited to find out what adventure Bucky will be dragging you into this time.

Your phone dings as you race out the front door and gulp when you see the bike again. God he looks good with it though, his light brown leather jacket highlights his olive skin and his dimpled smile has you swooning as you reach him. Determined to get a hang of this motorcycle thing you jump on back and cling to Bucky with a bit more confidence today.

Bucky reigns in his speed this time, and you find yourself enjoying the rush of the wind on your face and the warmth of him in your arms. To your shock Bucky leads you to a ceramic shop not far from Avengers tower, specifically for couples pottery class.

“Steve assures me that this is supposed to be fun and romantic,” Bucky says as you find yourself sitting next to him on a dirty stool with a spinning round table in front of you.

“Steve hasn’t been watching old romance movies again, has he?”

Bucky squints at you, “Actually, yeah but he said it had ghosts in it, and I got enough of those.”

You grab his hand and give it a squeeze before taking a deep breath, “Ok, let’s do this!”

It takes about a minute to realize what a terrible idea this is as Bucky curses under his breath and his arm starts making strange whirling noises.

“Oh shit, uh is clay good for your arm?” You ask, nodding at the way the plates of his metal arm seems to twitch and groan as the wet clay slide and congeal between them as they shift.

“Fuck,” Bucky curses as he shakes out his metal arm and you grimace at the worrisome noise it makes before it stops moving all together.

“Do you want to take it off?” you offer.

Bucky looks frustrated with a hint of panic as he sits there contemplating the best move. He still isn’t very comfortable going without his arm in public.

“Or we could just decide not to take Steve’s dating advice anymore and go back to the tower and get cleaned up?” You laugh and bump him with your elbow.

He scoffs out a laugh, “yeah. You know I used to be the one that was good at this stuff, I was the charming one who helped get Steve a date.”

“Oh is that so? Well I think you’re doing better than you think you are,” you smirk.

“Yeah?” He asks hopefully.

“Yeah, now come on Casanova,” you stand and wipe your hands on the towel nearby.

You can’t help but laugh as you follow him out the door, looking at the light gleam off the metal that isn’t covered in clay.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, it’s just… gonna be hard to convince me you’re not a complete mess after this one.”

——

You could tell Bucky’s confidence had taken a major hit, well three major hits to be honest. And while he constantly berated himself for everything that went wrong, you couldn’t help but love him even more with each blunder. And when he doesn’t insist you give him another shot after that disastrous pottery date, you seek out Steve’s advice.

“Do you think I should try to make a move? Ask him on a date maybe? Or is that insulting to … men from your era,” you finish awkwardly.

Steve laughs softly, “I think Bucky could use a sign that you aren’t willing to give up yet. You should give it a shot, as long as it’s what you want and not just out of pity.”

“Of course it’s not out of pity, you really think I’d do that?” you ask, trying not to get too offended.

“No, doll, of course I don’t. But that’s likely what he’s going to think.” He placates and gives you a knowing look before walking out of your office.

You push back your shoulders and pull out your phone to text Bucky.

Hey if you’re free tonight you should come over to my place. Maybe around 8pm? No dress code. 😘

🌹 The Fourth Date 🌹

Bucky arrives at 7:50pm that evening and you push the buzzer to let him in. You leave the door cracked for him and finish the final touches.

“Angel?” He calls as he knocks and you hear the door creak open. “Uh, hello?” His voice falters as he closes the door behind him and takes in the candles neatly arranged along a path of rose petals.

You hear him remove his heavy boots and call your name as he follows the path further into your apartment and closer to where you’re waiting for him. You shift nervously on your feet as you wait with baited breath for him to appear around the corner.

“Angel, what’s going..” His voice gets caught in his throat as he stands in your doorway and sees you waiting for him.

You’re wearing a simple nightgown, a silky robe and stockings. The thin straps and sleek material drape softly over your curves, enticing enough to make him pause but not overly revealing to be considered scandalous. You didn’t want to be too bold and scare him off too fast, or make yourself appear too desperate.

“Hi, Bucky,” you smile as you watch his pupils dilate and his chest strain against his shirt as his breathing gets heavier.

He clears his throat and his cheeks glow pink as his eyes flick up to meet yours, “uh hey, Angel. Am I dreaming?”

You laugh as you take a few steps toward him and he mirrors you, “I just thought that maybe I’d surprise you with a date, this time. If you’re up for it.”

“Well, I will admit that my interest is quite peaked already.” He jokes, his eyes roving down your body once more as he gently takes your hands and holds them out to get a better look at you.

You giggle and rolls your eyes, “Nothing crazy, just a simple movie date, and I have the perfect set up. Follow me.”

You pull him over to your bedroom window and climb out onto the fire escape, he follows closely, his curiosity climbing with each creaky step.

“You sure this is safe?” He asks as the stairs rattle under his weight.

“No,” you say simply as you reach the top, “but it’s worth it.”

Bucky’s eyes widen as he takes in the rooftop space that you’ve meticulously decorated for him. Strings of lights hang on the low rooftop walls. A large air mattress is tucked between the pipes and vents, facing a large projector screen. You made sure to add mountains of fluffy pillows and soft blankets to keep you cozy under the stars.

“This is amazing,” he mutters as he eyes the plate of snacks and bottle of wine waiting on the bed.

“I know, isn’t the view amazing? I’ve always loved it up here, but I didn’t know it had this much potential until now,” you remark as you look out onto the glimmering view of the city skyline.

Bucky’s fingers slip between yours and curl sweetly as he guides you over to the soft bed. He flops down and settles in before opening his arm for you to join him. You grab the remote and the wine and curl up next to him. Drawing up your legs and letting them rest against his muscular thigh.

“I don’t deserve all this,” he utters sadly as he watches you pour the wine.

“Steve said you’d say something stupid like that,” you laugh as he looks stunned for a moment. “So let me just settle this right now.” You take deep breath and let it out with a quiet huff.

“I have been the happiest I’ve ever been since you asked me out on that first date. I look forward to waking up every morning knowing I’ll get to see you and possibly, maybe, do more than just ogle you from afar. Oh don’t look at me like that!” You laugh and smack Bucky’s shoulder when he smirks at you and wiggles his brow.

“I know you think you blew it after our first three dates but all I remember is seeing a passionate man willing to chase down a dog through the mud, even if it meant embarrassing himself. I remember you saving me from a potentially fatal injury, and I remember a man so desperate to impress me that he took advice from Steve Rogers,” you bite your lip as you watch Bucky choke out a laugh at your jab at his best friend.

“You may think all of these moments are flaws, but honestly I wouldn’t want to change a single thing. So let’s just –” Your speech is cut off when Bucky’s hands are suddenly on the side of your face and pull you in for a blazing kiss.

It’s as though you’ve unlocked something in him as he devours you, his tongue trailing across your lip and delving into your mouth when you open for him. You moan as his hands slip down to your neck, his thumbs pressing ever so slightly on your pressure points before he pulls away just enough to kiss and nibble along your jaw. The pleasure and passion is dizzying and you feel your body bend to his will. Your hands grasp at his shirt as he nuzzles and sucks along your neck now, making his way to your clavicle.

The feather pillow braces your head as Bucky lays you down and hovers above you, his body heat warming you as the cool night breeze tickles over each spot he kisses.

“God, Angel, you have no idea how badly I want you right now. How badly I’ve wanted you for so long.” He groans against your chest, dragging his nose over the thin material between your breasts.

“Me too,” you breathe.

You push at the lapel of his jacket, trying to urge him to take it off. He sits up, fixing his eyes on you as he slowly strips off his coat and tosses it away, followed by his shirt immediately after. Your breath hitches as you let your fingers lightly glide down his stomach, feeling every ripple of firm muscle under his heated skin.

“Wow, the girls at work would be so jealous right now,” you kid.

“I’m almost offended that you think this is my best feature,” he scoffs gesturing to his stomach, his eyes glinting mischievously.

“By all means, show me more. I did come up here for a show after all,” you tease, tilting your head and biting your lip as you eye the growing bulge in his pants.

“Oh, I think I know how to keep you entertained,” he smirks and lowers himself over you, his hot breath leaving goosebumps on your skin as he dips lower down your body.

You look down as he pauses over your quivering center and lifts the hem of your dress up to reveal your lace panties. He growls lowly and hooks his finger under them, pulling them quickly to the side. You twitch as he blows lightly over your lips, the cool air hitting the slick arousal already pooling between your thighs. He chuckles as you grip the blankets tightly and he pushes his long thick tongue between your folds, circling your bud at the top. You let out a long moan as his fervor increases, the feeling of his rough tongue dipping into your dripping hole and then back up to flick over your clit is driving you closer and closer to the edge.

After the past two weeks of the most intense sexual tension you’ve ever experienced it doesn’t take much for him to have you squirming under his touch. Your toes curl and a broken scream echoes over the rooftops as you come on his hungry lips.

“You’re so beautiful,” he coos as your eyes flutter open and see him hovering over your face once more.

Your jaw slackens, pupils blown as you take in his debauched state, his tousled hair, lips and beard glistening with your come. You reach up and pull him down to you, tasting yourself on his tongue. You feel his metal arm fumble with his jeans between you as he pulls out his aching cock. Your eyes flick down in curiosity and you can’t help but gasp as you gaze at his veiny, thick length.

“You see how hard you make me?” He moans, fisting the base of his leaking cock.

You bite your lip, feeling an overwhelming desire to let him use you in any way he wants. Your body arching into him and your hips rolling desperately. Your submissive side blooming under his dominant tone.

You whimper and meet his eye, “fuck me, Bucky. Please.”

Your voice is soft and timid, nothing like the typical commanding confidence you have in your daily life, and it sends a thrill through Bucky. He latches onto your thighs and pushes them up toward your chest, exposing your cunt to him and he guides himself inside, moaning freely as your walls stretch to fit him.

“I’m never letting you go. My perfect, Angel.”

[juniorgman187]

Serendipity (Reid Fic) Part 1

A/N: If you’re wondering if this is at all based on Rosie and Marco’s storyline in “What to Expect When You’re Expecting,” then you should know - it totally is.

Summary: An FBI gathering brings Reader and Spencer together after years of distance. This one night changes not only their future, but their perspective on the past.  Category: Angst, Smut, *NSFW content Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: Mentions of traumatic childhood, child neglect, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, menstruation, pregnancy Word Count: 10.2k

I originally thought I would be able to fit everything into 1 part, but after further reconsideration, this will be a two part series. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

Serendipity: (n). Finding something good without looking for it.

A word I would only come to truly understand many months from now on a warm Thursday morning in May at St. Mary’s Hospital. 

But whenever my thoughts drifted back towards the past, I would always remember that this was how it all began - on a chilly Saturday night in the heart of D.C.

Not more than four hours ago, Emilia and I drove down here for an F.B.I function that hired us. Under normal circumstances, we wouldn’t have agreed to be the caterers for an event so far away, but we eventually signed on after learning that there were at least 600 people attending. That meant a considerable amount of customers and an exorbitant amount of money. Saying yes was clearly a no brainer. 

Just to put it into perspective of how big this event would be, Emilia and I got lucky if we could park somewhere with 80 customers. 80. So this event would be colossal for us.

But who would have guessed that in a crowd of 600, I would run into the one and only - Spencer Reid. 

To preface, this wasn’t just any old birthday party, parade, or festival. It was a celebration and a grand one at that. Considering it was a private event at the Washington Monument, we were given special instructions to abide by the black-tie formal dress code that guests had to follow, too. I guess the caterers can’t look like slobs in the United States’ Capitol, now can they?

I definitely spent more time than I should have deciding on what outfit to wear, but my conscientiousness, or rather indecisiveness, did pay off in the end. For I would run into someone worth the trouble of impressing. 

My hair, unlike Emilia’s, was down and curled in big waves, and on one side, some of my hair was tucked behind my ear and designed to stay that way thanks to copious amounts of hairspray and an ungodly total of bobby pins. Emilia lent me a black, floor-length dress that had a plunging v-neck that didn’t fit her anymore, but luckily, fit perfectly on me. Although I would have to remember not to lean over too far tonight, otherwise, the customers might get a show they didn’t pay for. I, however, didn’t look half so good as my business partner. 

Emilia was clad in a navy blue silk dress with puffy sleeves and a high collar; the dress clung to her every curve, including her newly protruding belly bump. She looked regal and pregnant all at the same time, qualities I hadn’t seen coexist in anyone but the Queens and Duchesses in England. 

“Well, don’t you look hot?” Emilia purred, running her fingers through my curls, then letting them fall and sway back into place. 

“Are you kidding? You are quite literally a sexy mama.” I gushed to her, receiving a light chuckle in return. 

“Yeah, well, when you’re five months pregnant, tell me how sexy you feel in a tight dress.” She remarked, turning her back to me while she arranged all the supplies in the kitchenette behind me. But even as she faced away from me, she still managed to recognize the effect her words had. Maybe it was something in my silence, or our sister-telepathy, but Emilia immediately felt the room depress. In an effort to take back the remark that turned the room cold, she sweetly added while hugging me from behind, “You’re gonna be a mom one day, too. I promise.” 

I leaned into her embrace, feeling guilty for ruining the moment while also feeling burdened by the reminder of the terrible reality I had to face every day.

Ever since I could remember, I thought I was destined to be a mother, but that destiny had yet to be fulfilled.

Emilia was born only three years after me, and though that age gap isn’t big enough for me to be mistaken for her mother, I, she, and our younger brother Saul would all agree that in many ways I was their mom. I was the parent our parents never were. I was there for everything - soccer games, dance recitals, winter musicals - never getting the chance to participate in my own, but always attending their’s. 

I had to admit sometimes it was a burden, having to grow up so fast and help raise my siblings while still trying to navigate through my own struggles of adolescence, but I saw it as something I was meant to do. 

See, I wouldn’t have minded all the responsibilities of being a parent so much when it’d be my own kids that I’d be fulfilling them for - when it would be by my choice to fulfill those responsibilities and not by unfortunate birth order. 

However, as the years have gone by, my calling to be a mother has gotten quieter and quieter and quieter until eventually, I don’t think I’ll be able to hear it anymore. 

It’s not that I can’t have kids, but the fear of rushing into having one is what’s stopped me from pursuing that dream. 

As someone who grew up with divorced parents and practically became my siblings only reliable caregiver, I knew what having a baby too soon could do to a family. So rather than repeating history, I chose to wait to have kids. I didn’t want to make the same mistakes my parents did, and so I lived my life. I traveled all across the globe, I met new people, tried new things, I even started this taco truck business with Emilia. 

But still that gaping hole in my chest remained. A hole that nothing could ever fill the way that a child would. 

No amount of living could make up for the emptiness of a life with no family.

I could pretend all I wanted that I was happy living out my twenties, but the truth was I didn’t want to spend the rest of my years working in a food truck, amounting to nothing more than a mediocre cook and middling entrepreneur. That was never my dream - as exciting as it was. 

My real dream was to have a good life. The kind my parents never had thanks to the unplanned arrival of me. The kind my baby sister was already living out. 

“You know what? It’s a really nice night out. I think I might go for a walk. Do you wanna come?” Was this my blatant avoidance of breaching the subject of pregnancy? Yes, but it was also my escape from this food truck that felt like it was getting smaller and smaller and smaller by the second. 

“No, I’m okay. I’ll just get everything ready.” Emilia resigned. 

She knew why I was really leaving - sister-telepathy, I’m telling you - but she didn’t feel the need to acknowledge it. For that, I was thankful. Maybe we were better at communicating with no words at all. 

I carefully stepped off the back of the truck, making sure to hike up my dress high enough so I wouldn’t trip over the mess of fabric when my feet hit the floor. The nippy December air felt like a cool balm on my hot skin. I was burning up in that truck, and maybe it was nerves or something else, but I just had this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. There was no explanation for it, but I realize now that the pit in my stomach was caused by something my intuition could sense but something my mind couldn’t understand. 

Someone important from my past was here tonight.

As I sauntered around the monument, I took in the breathtaking view of the structure’s silhouette against the blazing orange sky that melted into an ocean blue. I regretted not bringing my phone to take a picture of it so I could show Emilia when I got back, but that one regret quickly turned into another when the night sky’s breeze brought a rude awakening. My body shivered at the frigid gust of wind that blew through and I suddenly started to regret not bringing a jacket.

“Are you cold?” A gentle voice asked me from behind. 

I slightly recoiled out of shock of someone being there. When I turned around though, I couldn’t quite make out any distinguishable features. All I knew for sure was that this was certainly a man, and a tall one, too. 

“Um, just a little.” I bashfully admitted, crossing my arms to hug myself and maintain some warmth. I hadn’t even thought about my dress’s plunging v-neck or the fact that I was practically squeezing my breasts together, accentuating them even further, but by the time, I realized, it was too late. He was already looking. But not at my chest. Somewhere far more invasive. 

My eyes. 

“Here, take my jacket.” 

My small protests did nothing to stop him as he inevitably slipped the coat around my shoulders anyway. He’d come so close that I could finally see him and smell him. And let me tell you, if the sight of him wasn’t enough to break an overflowing dam of memories, then his smell certainly sent a flood that would.

“Oh my god,” I quietly gasped, my hand flying to my mouth to cover its un-ladylike gaping. 

“Spencer Reid?”

I squinted my eyes and cocked my head even further to find evidence to support my assumption, and sure enough, I found exactly what I was looking for. 

I was frozen in place as I deeply examined his face. My God! I mean, in many ways, he hadn’t changed a bit since the last time I saw him. Same dazzling hazel eyes. Same uniquely adorable nose. Same over-stimulated pink lips. I wonder if he still bit them as much as he did back then? 

But at the same time, he was so different. Of course, I could still discern the same features I used to study endlessly back then, but his face had transformed into a man’s. He lost the glasses for one thing, but he also had a softer jawline, longer hair, and for lack of a better term, a beefier build.

He was all grown up now, and yet, I could still identify the same boyishly handsome charm that made me fall in love with him more than a decade ago.

“I knew it was you, (y/n).” He chuckled, sounding half proud of himself. My heart fluttered at the sound of my name on his tongue and the action that followed. With his eyes locked on mine, he tucked strands of my hair back behind my ears; it’s as if he were saying, “Let me get a good look at you.” 

“How? It’s almost completely dark outside. You could barely even see me.” Certainly, you can understand why I was skeptical. Sounded too good to be true, if you ask me. 

He shook his head lightly with a smile, seemingly questioning how I couldn’t possibly know the answer to that question. “No one else looks like you. Not even in the dark.” 

His words spoke to a part of my soul specifically reserved for him. They were so genuine that I almost didn’t want to believe them because how could someone speak such lovely things and truly mean them? The world wasn’t that good a place. Certainly not good enough for Spencer Reid. 

In that moment, I flew out of my own body and watched this entire scene unfold from up above. I could see the version of a girl I hadn’t seen in years, not since that last interaction with Spencer. She had these big lovesick eyes as she swooned over a man with just the same lovesick look. 

The excessive upward tilt of my head and the way his neck craning down must’ve made it seem like we were about to kiss, but I knew better than to expect such a thing from Spencer Reid. And if anything, what we were doing right now was much more intimate than kissing. 

“Wow, you ... you really grew up. You look great.” My own voice sounded unfamiliar to me after the words slipped from my mouth without even registering in my brain first. 

“Are you kidding? Look at you! I mean, you are just ...” He paused for a moment to look me up and down, and I nearly shivered at the thought that he was practically undressing me with his eyes. “You’re absolutely beautiful. But you always were.” 

I was almost completely in a daze when I heard a hideous squawk of a bird flying overhead. This wouldn’t make sense, but it nearly felt like a sign. Like the bird knew I wasn’t supposed to be there, reminding me of where I belonged - reality - not in this fantasy with Spencer. 

“Um,” My head spun as I drew back from him. “I should probably get back. I’ll see you later.” I touched his upper arm gently as I passed by him, and it stunned me how warmth just radiated off of his body. 

To my all too quick goodbye, he simply waved and watched me walk past him with a pursed-lip smile. And just before I got too far, I thought I heard him say, “I hope so.” 

Though my feet were carrying me away from Spencer, my thoughts were only drifting closer to the memory of him, and we did have so many memories. 

11 Years Ago ...

I was at the ripe age of 16 when I got my driver’s license. And to anyone else, this would seem like a given milestone, but to me - it was so much more. With the obtainment of my license, I also gained access to a whole new world. Opportunities poured at the seams. I could drive anyone and anywhere I wanted to and though it wasn’t true, it felt like I could do anything, too. But like all things good in my life, it fell apart in the face of responsibilities. 

My newly obtained license was just another way for my parents to exploit me. Now, they didn’t have to drive Emilia and Saul since I could. Looking back, I have to wonder if the only reason they funded my driver’s ed classes were for the exact reason that if I took them, I’d sooner be able to take on yet another helping of duties they were too lazy to fulfill.

There’s one particular moment I can remember from this age and that same moment could also be regarded as the catalyst that would set off a series of events for the next 11 years to come.

It was the end of the school year and summer vacation was right around the corner. I was a sophomore at the time, and the prospect of being a junior the next year excited me. 

To kick off the start of summer, Melody Hanes was throwing a pool party at her house. Everyone knew she was filthy rich because of a dead grandpa or some other, not to mention, she was also in student government so she had just as big of a role in school as her grandpa’s death did in making the Hanes family wealthy. 

Though I never knew her personally, I did have third period chemistry with her for the entire year, and I sat right in front of her for pretty much the entirety of second semester. She must’ve only addressed me a handful of times, but she still invited me to her party anyway. Proximity, I had to admit, did play a part in that though because if I sat just a seat farther away, then I wouldn’t have been. 

I came home that day, thrilled to tell my mother about my invitation. It would’ve been my first party that wasn’t a distant relative’s birthday celebration or a childish sleepover in elementary. It was my first real high school party, and for once, I thought - maybe I’d finally get the quintessential ‘high school experience.’

But of course, I never did. 

As soon as I got home, I parked my car in the driveway, got the mail, and came inside the house to see my mother sitting on the couch watching TV, as per usual. While I was telling her about my invitation, she didn’t bother to lower the volume or even look away from the screen to give me her undivided attention, and when she did look away, it was only to take the mail from my hands. 

“Your sister’s science fair is on that day, and you have to take her because I’ll be working from 1 to 7.” My mother never once looked up from the mail she was sorting through to address me. And her words, while incredibly monotone, were also spoken with such finality, like what she said was the last she ever wanted to speak on the topic. No room for discussion. 

I’m not still losing sleep over it, but at the time, it felt like for once, I could actually just be a teenager and be young and reckless like everyone else, but that it was just taken from me. I never got the chance to be a kid again.

With the exception of Emilia’s science fair.

I knew my father wouldn’t be there, and obviously my mother wouldn’t, so I stayed to watch her presentation and to walk around the rest of the time. She deserved someone in her corner, and that someone was me. Even if no one was in mine. 

As I serpentined through the cafeteria, a bittersweet feeling came upon me. From paper mâché volcanoes to potato batteries, I observed a childlike sense of wonder that I hadn’t felt for years. 

Here, I was surrounded by children who got to be just children. They got to occupy themselves with trivial matters, like how gardens grow or if video games actually do rot your brain. 

Their problems had solutions and their questions had answers, and it almost made me wish that I could revert back to a time where life was that easy, but I couldn’t because it never was … not for me. 

So to sum it up, it was precious and heartbreaking all at the same time. 

While browsing the fair, I stumbled upon a man that didn’t quite seem to fit in, and maybe it was my own unfitting appearance that made me recognize his. He could’ve very well been the brother of one of these children, but something about the way he was dressed and the way he carried himself made me highly doubt that. 

He couldn’t have been a parent either, for he was not too far off from my own age, and if he was a parent of one of these eighth graders, that would have to mean that he had a kid when he was in kindergarten. So for all intents and purposes, he wasn’t someone’s brother or someone’s father. Who he actually was - I didn’t know, but I was determined to find out.

After that first observance, I spotted him a couple more times, but it wasn’t until we were looking at the same project that we actually spoke. 

“Fascinating, isn’t it?”

The sudden sound of his voice alarmed me, but only because it seemingly came out of nowhere. Generally, before someone speaks to you, you notice signals that they’re about to, which helps you prepare for conversation. Whether it’s nervous twitches, a look in your direction, maybe even a small acknowledging smile, you’ll recognize they want to or plan to talk to you, but none of those signs were given to me. Even when I turned my head to give him my attention, he was still fixated on the project in front of us. 

“Yeah, it really is,” I politely agreed. I awkwardly looked around the room as if I’d find an answer as to what to say next because I did want to keep talking to him, but the longer I stayed silent, the more I fear he’d begin to think I didn’t want to. With nothing else to ask but the question that had been bothering me since I first laid eyes on him, I simply went for it. 

“So, who are you here for?”

For the first time, he turned his head to the side to look right at me. With a quizzical expression, he responded. “Oh, no one. I’m just a judge here.” 

It was my turn to possess a quizzical expression. His statement wouldn’t have been weird, except for the part where any judge I’d seen or talked to were all well into their forties or fifties. 

“Aren’t you kinda young to be a judge? You’re, like, what? Seventeen, eighteen?

“Nineteen actually. But I regularly come to judge the Summer Science Fairs here since I went to this middle school eleven years ago.” 

Again, I would’ve taken his word for it, but the math didn’t make sense. “You were in middle school at eight years old?” 

“Mhm. I ended up graduating high school at twelve.” He said it so nonchalantly, but for how big of a feat it was, I thought it would’ve deserved a more prideful tone, yet he still maintained such a cavalier one. Did he not think himself to be impressive? 

“Jeez, you must be really smart.” 

He shoved his hands in his pockets, which made me notice that he wasn’t carrying a clipboard like the other judges, which was probably another reason why I didn’t take him for one. How would he be able to remember the projects that he was considering for awards? He’d have to have some magical memory for that.

Before answering, he began to walk away, but nonetheless he continued addressing me, so I followed him where he went. 

“Mmm not necessarily. My IQ isn’t high enough to suggest I’m a provable genius yet, but I do have an eidetic memory and I can currently read 16,000 words per minute, which definitely helps. I hope to be able to read 20,000 words per minute in the future.” 

Despite answering my question, he only left me with many more. 

“What is your IQ right now?”

“131.”

My eyes widened. Even I, with my limited knowledge on intelligence quotients knew that was high, especially for someone as young as he was. 

“So what IQ score do you have to have in order to be considered a genius?”

I couldn’t help but notice how he barely took anytime to think before answering me. It’s like his brain just knew everything, right then and there. 

“A score of over 140 is considered a genius or near genius.”

“Wow, so you’re almost a genius then?”

“Almost, but not quite. If I receive diverse stimulation at a consistent rate for the next few years, I predict that I’ll have an IQ of 180 or higher by the time I’m in my early twenties.”

You would think he would leave me speechless, but I still went on to ask him about what an eidetic memory was, and he explained to me that he could remember things exceedingly well, but that it was not the same thing as a photographic memory. He made that distinction very clear to me. 

Our conversation droned on for the rest of the fair as we continued to circle the cafeteria. I can’t count how many times we lapped around the same projects, but we never seemed to run out of things to talk about. Once those first few seconds after meeting him, when I didn’t know what to say, passed, I never again felt a sense of not knowing. We could talk for hours and hours, and it wouldn’t matter. I would never get bored. 

How could I? When I was with him, it felt like the rest of the world just faded away. Our discourse flowed so easily, no pressure, no awkward silence. It was just me and him, and if you ask me, that’s quite the opposite of boring. 

That was the first and final time I ever truly felt like a kid. Just like the ones in the science fair. Not a care in the world except for my morbid curiosity of the marvel that was him.

Alas, all good things must come to an end, and I inevitably found myself being ripped out of my trance when I felt an aggressive tug on my sweater.

“We can go now.” Emilia interrupted. 

I hadn’t even noticed that a majority of the poster boards were taken down and that an even larger majority of the people were long gone, too. I got so lost in the conversation that I didn’t realize we were one of the last people still there. 

Emilia’s eagerness to leave was apparent as she pulled me away from my interesting conversationalist. 

“I had a nice time talking to you!” I called out to him, walking backwards to lengthen the period of time I could keep looking at him. 

“Likewise.”

I turned around fully just before I finally realized something. “Hey!” I yelled across the distance. “I never got your name!” 

He bashfully smiled and looked down at his feet briefly. “It’s Spencer! Spencer Reid!” 

I stood there for a moment, silently processing his name. 

“What’s yours?” He yelled back. 

I chuckled mischievously. “I guess you’ll have to find out next time.” My ambiguity puzzled him and intrigued him all at the same time. 

“Next time?” 

With the intentions of leaving him without a true answer, I simply turned on my heels and started walking away. 

“Bye, Spencer!”

Even if he didn’t have an eidetic memory, I knew after that first day, he could never forget me. 

- Present Time -

By the time I made it back to the truck, people were already lining up to order. 

“Get over here!” Emilia squealed excitedly from the window, her hand rapidly waving me over as if it’d suddenly increase my speed. I ran back as fast as I could in a dress and heels and climbed into the truck, mirroring my sister’s zeal. 

When I stepped in, Emilia took one glance at me and furrowed her brows. “Where’d you get the jacket?” 

Had she not mentioned it, I would not have remembered the foreign fabric that wrapped around my shoulders. 

“Oh, shoot!” I palmed my forehead after the realization dawned on me. I should’ve noticed sooner that I still had it on, but honestly, it didn’t feel unusual or out of place. It was comfortable and familiar, like it was meant to be there that entire time.

“I’m so sorry to do this to you, but do you think you can handle this alone for just a second? I have to return this to a friend.” I asked while slipping off the coat to ready myself to leave, even in the event that Emilia said she wouldn’t let me go. Luckily though, she understood it was urgent. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine. Just hurry back.” 

I extended my head to look out just past the side of the truck to look for Spencer while still being concealed within the vehicle. Now that there were more people here, I wasn’t exactly sure I should be caught mingling with the attendees, so instead, I decided to search for him from the truck, rather than wandering around the party, giving the impression to the people that hired us that I wasn’t doing my job and was just here to socialize. 

Luckily, there was something about my attachment to Spencer that was supernatural. I had this metaphysical ability to spot him even in a crowded place. I could find him anywhere. But whether that was a blessing or a curse was to be determined because right as my paranormal power kicked in, I found him. And there he was - standing next to another girl, a proximity much too close and a smile much too big to be anything less than flirtatious.

I paused to recall the image I had of myself earlier, when I floated up and out of my own body. I looked just like her - an oversized grin combined with lovesick eyes. 

But that’s not the worst part. 

The worst part was he was returning just the same look of attraction to her. 

“Um, actually,” I re-entered the truck completely, tossing the jacket aside haphazardly. “I’ll just return it later.” 

“You sure? You can go. I’ve got things covered right now.” She said between multitasking at a rate that even I, a very-much-not-pregnant-woman, could manage. 

All I could mutter back without giving away the sharp ache in my heart was, “Yeah, I’m sure.” 

_ _ _

After hours and hours of non-stop working, the night, at last, was coming to a close. The large crowd had sized down considerably, until I could no longer hear the sound of a thousand voices meshing. All the decorations were already coming down by the time Emilia and I finished packing up the truck. Without the hectic energy to cause adrenaline to course through my veins, it should’ve been peaceful, yet my heart was not at peace. 

I couldn’t shake the gut-wrenching feeling of seeing Spencer with that girl, but that wasn’t really why I was upset. It was more about the fact that I’d actually believed for a second that I had any chance with him. I should’ve known he wasn’t single, and the fact that I let myself swoon over him again angered me all the more. If I ever had a chance with Spencer, the time to act on it was long gone.

Now, I had to live with that. 

“You sure you wanna stay here alone? I’ll come with you if you want me to.” 

Emilia’s question was referring to my proposal to stay in D.C for the night while she drove home. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, but I realized I couldn’t handle being in another suffocating car ride with Emilia. It had nothing to do with her - just that I needed alone time to process everything by myself. If I knew my sister as well as I thought I did, I knew she would’ve sensed something was wrong and tried to coax me into talking about it, which I was not in the mood to do. Plus, traveling for so long made me nauseous just thinking about it. Although, I didn’t have a plan, I knew that I just wanted to hail a cab and find a hotel somewhere here for the night. 

“Yeah, I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me. Call me when you get home.” I tapped on the back of the truck twice to let her know she was good to drive away, and I felt the car lurch forward per my request. When the truck finally did move, out from behind it appeared the tall figure of none other than Spencer. 

I was surprised, but only for a second, when that surprise turned into pain once more. Playing it cool so my afflictions wouldn’t be suspected, I nonchalantly stated, “Here’s your jacket, by the way. Sorry, I forgot to give it back to you earlier.”

I extended my arm far enough so that we’d still have a great distance between us when he went to grab it, but sure enough, my actions were all for naught when he not only refused to remove his hands from his pockets to take it but also walked two steps closer to me than he needed to be. I looked like an idiot just standing there with my arm so outstretched, only for him to not grab it and to let it simply press against his stomach as a complete avoidance of getting it back. 

“You were supposed to keep it. That’s why I didn’t ask for it back.” He curtly replied, finishing his statements with a cheeky grin. However, I wasn’t in the mood to return it. I simply stood there and shook the jacket in my hand to emphasize its presence. 

“Take it. Please.” My voice was full of contradictions. I tried to be assertive with my command, and yet my plead only softened the order and showed a defeat I wasn’t even aware of until I heard how sad it sounded. “I don’t want it, Spencer.” 

He no doubt saw the shift in my demeanor but still wouldn’t pacify me by taking the jacket. “What’s wrong? What did I do?” His voice got quieter, as if speaking any louder would shatter me in this fragile state of being. 

“Nothing, I’m just tired and I want to go home.” This wasn’t a complete lie. I was exhausted from working for hours and hours on my feet with no breaks in between, but it wasn’t exactly the full truth either. He could tell. 

“Just tell me what’s wrong.” He persisted. “Please.”

The only way I could describe what I happened next was like the vision of a boiling pot. Gradually, I was heating up until I finally got so overheated that I just boiled over and exploded. 

“What don’t you get, Spencer? I don’t want your jacket!” Fury consumed my tone. “And I don’t think your girlfriend would want that either.” 

“Girlfriend? What girlfriend? What are you talking about? I don’t have a girlfriend!” His words were flying out of his mouth at 100 mph as he desperately trying to mend what couldn’t be fixed. 

“Don’t play dumb. I saw you with that blonde girl. How close you two were standing, the way you were looking at each other.” Just having to recount the interaction made the horrid memory come back vividly into the forefront of my thoughts, and it broke my heart all over again. I shut my eyes painfully as though it would turn off the image of them together, but this only allowed for Spencer to wrap his warm hands around my upper arms and pull me closer to him without my knowing. I flinched unconsciously at the sudden feeling of his touch, to which he instantly let go. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” His hands shook with remorse for letting them touch my body in a way that elicited that reaction. They hovered in the space between us, not knowing where to go that would suddenly make things okay. “But she’s no one, okay? She’s just a coworker.” 

I wanted to believe him. I quite possibly did believe him, but there was still a sharp pain in my chest. Call it intuition. 

“No, she’s not,” I shook my head. “She’s not ‘no one’... you love her.” 

Spencer came closer but still didn’t let himself touch me again out of fear that I might draw back even further. 

“Listen to me - whatever feelings I used to have for her are long gone. She’s married, (y/n). She has a kid. And none of that even matters because the way that I used to love her is nothing compared to the way that I-” 

“Don’t.” I held my hand up in protest. “Don’t say you love me.” 

His eyebrows knit together with dismay. “Why? Why not? It’s true. I love you. I always have.” 

With one big sigh, I finally resigned to my emotions. “Then why didn’t you ever do something about it?” 

Judging by the deflation of his shoulders and the far off look he got in his eyes, he knew exactly the moment I was talking about. 

Two days after Emilia’s science fair, I drove to the library to pick up books I needed for my summer homework. I was already on my way out when I just happened to glance to my side, noticing a lone figure sitting at the bus stop. I didn’t think anything of it, but when I looked back, I partially recognized him. I shaded my eyes from the sun and squinted harder to confirm my suspicions. 

“Spencer?” I wondered out loud.

The figure’s head turned around, narrowed their eyes, and waved. He stood up from his seat and made his way over to me with a precious little jog-walk. Although we had only met once before, we still embraced each other like lifelong friends. 

“Do I finally get to know your name now?” He jokingly inquired after pulling away. 

It completely slipped my mind that I’d denied him the knowledge of my name, but for my own satisfaction, I wouldn’t let him get off that easily. 

“Do you have any guesses of it could be?” 

He pouted childishly. “Are you kidding? In a population of 350 million people, there would be about 4.4 million names. But if every country on Earth had the same nominative diversity we in the US have, that would suggest about 750 million unique names exist.”

I must admit it was fun watching him melt into a flustered mess of facts, but I was growing just as impatient as him. “Come on, just guess. You might be right.”

He rolled his eyes but indulged me willingly anyway. “Okay ... um ... Catherine.” 

“Nope.”

“Nicole.”

“Nope.”

“Gertrude.” 

“Seriously?” I raised my eyebrows. He shrugged. “Nope.”

“Olive.” 

“Pretty,” I smiled, making his face light up, too. “But no.” His smile fell. 

“This is nearly impossible.” He sighed. 

“Nothing’s impossible.” My delivery wasn’t as cheesy as the line itself, so it touched us both in a way that made that silly phrase feel like it’d never been said before. With a visible passion reignited in him, he continued. 

“Francis.”

“Okay, maybe this is impossible.” 

My blunt joke brought us closer together, our heads almost knocking into one another’s as we clutched our stomachs and leaned forward to support our all-consuming laughter. When we finally calmed down, I finally confessed. 

“Okay, okay - it’s (y/n).” 

He stood there completely silent. There was no expression of his face that indicated he planned on speaking, so I elaborated. “It’s not as good as the name Spencer, I know I know -”

“I’ve never known anyone with that name before.” His hushed voice cut into mine so innocently. 

My cheeks heated from the slight compliment. “Well, now you do. And don’t you forget it.” I teased. With nothing further to say, I brushed past him to start walking away, when unconsciously, I spun my keys around my index finger and heard the familiar jingle of the metal, reminding me of something. 

“Hey, Spencer?” I turned on my heels. “Can I give you a ride home?”

And so began our routine for the entire summer. I would bring my summer homework to the library, and Spencer would help me understand it, or even complete it, and then I’d give him a ride home. We’d go to the park and read, or we’d go to the movies, or we’d hang out at a diner. And each time, I’d drop him off. 

The more time we spent together, the more I learned about him and his life. He told me about his mom, his dad - everything. I did just the same. I told him about my mom, my dad, my siblings - everything. 

Perhaps we enjoyed spending so much time together because it was a sweet escape from our houses that weren’t homes. But every time we did hang out, we just got closer and closer, and by the end of the summer, I knew my feelings perfectly clear. 

I love Spencer. 

If missing that pool party at Melody Hanes was what it took to find the absolute love of my life, then what a small price to pay it was. I wouldn’t have traded a million pool parties for that one chance encounter with Spencer at the science fair. 

One day, we were pulling into his driveway after having a picnic at the country club, and I’d just let him out of the car, when unconsciously, I said, “Bye, Spence! Love you!” 

He caught the words faster than I did. He looked like a deer in headlights, and it took me at least two seconds more to figure out why. That entire day I’d been thinking about saying it, but by the end, I decided it’d be better not to, and yet, it just came out anyway.

“You love me?” 

There were two ways I could’ve answered. The first was to deny it and say that I only meant that I loved him like a friend. The second was to be brave and validate my unintentional confession. 

In the heat of the moment, I chose the latter. 

“Yes.” I nodded, smiling from my own courage. You only live once right?

In a cruel twist of fate, Spencer never tried to speak, and instead, ran to his front door. 

“Spencer!” I yelled. “What are you-” 

He gave me one last look over his shoulder before he opened the door and closed it right behind him. That was the last I ever saw him. 

I learned, that day, that you do only live once. 

But you can die over and over again.

From that point on, he’s lived in my mind as the one that never was. 

Regret and shame manifested on Spencer’s face. “I never wanted to hurt you.” He dejectedly began. “But I was young and-and dumb and just ... so scared. God, I was so scared.” He finally looked up, if for no other reason than to gauge my reaction. “I liked you so much, but I, I just couldn’t open myself up to the possibility of being hurt by another person I loved.”

Much like my own life, Spencer’s was riddled with traumatic experiences. Except rather than being expected to take care of younger siblings, he had to take care of his mom. And having to be a parent to your own parent? That’s something I would never wish upon anyone else. 

“I ... I get it.” It was a sweet surrender, my words. After years of pent-up aggression borne from humiliation, rejection, and deep sadness, I could finally understand. “But as selfish as it sounds, I wish your past hurt hadn’t gotten in the way of our potential happiness.” 

He took each of my hands in his, encasing them with palms of warmth. “Then don’t let the same thing happen right now. Don’t let the stupid, broken teenager I was cloud your judgement of the man I am now. Let me prove to you that I’ve changed.” 

I stood there silently, an eerie parallel to how Spencer reacted to my confession eleven years ago. 

“When I saw you, it felt like a second chance. A second chance to do what I was too afraid to do back then. And I couldn’t let myself make the same mistake twice.” His eyes were piercing through my soul. Every word plucked at my heartstrings, until I could no longer keep up with the symphony they were playing. 

There was the slightest hesitation behind it, but I did inch forward. And in no time at all, Spencer saw the movement and made his own. 

His hands released mine and shot straight for my cheeks to cup them gently, while kissing me firmly. He wasn’t the same shy boy he was, and this kiss was only proof of that. The way his lips were moving so fervently made me weak at the knees. He was so desperate and needy, like even with our lips touching, he still wasn’t close enough to me. Unleashed upon me was years of yearning wrapped in prominent lust. 

“I love you.” He blurted clumsily on my lips. I didn’t return the sentiment, but that wasn’t why he said it. He wanted to say it so I’d know, not so that I’d say it back. 

“You should know,” I muttered between kisses. “I’m not leaving D.C. until tomorrow morning.” 

The biggest smirk creeped onto his face. Bastard. 

Once we’d exhausted all the things we could possibly do in public, we ran to the nearest cab we could find and exhausted all the things we could do in that, too.

It was already past midnight when we arrived at Spencer’s apartment, and though we should’ve been quiet so as not to disturb the neighbors, we were still breaking out into a fit of giggles like a bunch of teenagers sneaking around as we ran up the stairs. We hadn’t even made it past the doormat, before he seized my hips in his hands and spun me back towards him. Forcefully, he pressed me against the door while simultaneously unlocking it. That shut me up real good, lemme tell you. 

As soon as we crossed the threshold, he gave me a reprieve when he held me closer so as to stop pinning me against the door. In an effort to do the impossible, we stumbled through his apartment in a frenzy trying to undress each other while maintaining our bodily contact. With one giant tug of the zipper on my back, my dress fell to the ground. To his atonement, he left me in just a thong. Whereas he was much too overdressed in my opinion. 

No sooner did I gracelessly unbutton his shirt than we ran into a plant against the wall. Our smiles practically ruined the kiss at the sound of the crash, but it remained nonetheless. I knew I was in for something, when Spencer paused to wait for me to unbuckle his belt. That was the first time we ever really stopped in place, but just as I anticipated, I was in for it. 

When I finally freed his waist of the garment, he just as quickly placed his hand on the back of my thigh, and in one swift motion, hoisted me into the air high enough to allow my legs to wrap around his waist. My arms were loose around his neck and the feeling of his warm hands touching my bare skin sent a chill down my spine. 

Due to Spencer’s essential hand placement on my body, I had to be the one to fumble with his bedroom’s doorknob until it finally gave way. Once more, we staggered through his room before he let our lips break apart to lightly toss me onto the bed. I giggled at the squeak of the bed, driving him visibly crazy. 

He hastily unzipped his own dress pants, while I propped myself up on my elbows. When he met me on the bed, he hovered over me to the point of having to lay back down again just to see him clearly. He felt too far away so I drew him nearer by lacing my hand through his soft curls. I twirled one around my finger, which must’ve been too merciful for him to handle. 

He placed his hand on the back of mine and slid it down to his cheek. He held my hand there for a moment, leaning into the skin of my palm prior to placing a chaste kiss on it. 

He didn’t need to say it again for me to know what he was thinking. 

I love you.

The anticipation was killing me and in the most impatient manner, I pulled him down to my level, mimicking his similar habit of face-grabbing during a kiss. I knew his hands would’ve flown to my face the way they did just minutes ago, but one was too preoccupied keeping himself up and the other was busy toying with the band of my thong. I shivered at the sensation of him slipping one finger under the material and letting it glide over my tender skin right above my heat. 

“Spencer,” I mumbled in a kiss to bring his attention back to me. Although I was certainly interested to know the hidden talents of Spencer Reid and his fingers, I was restless. I’d been waiting years for this moment, and unlike most people, I didn’t want to wait another second. “I need you now.” 

He pulled his head back so he could get a full view of my face to examine my sincerity. He wanted to know if I was sure, and my eyes told him such. He nodded in acknowledgement with such speed that I was sure he was craving this as much as I was. 

Rather than looking at where our bodies were about to meet, I had to close my eyes so I could fully feel everything without any other sense taking that away from me. In a painfully slow manner, he lined himself up at my entrance. At first, he only lightly pushed in, and it was this slacken movement that made me cry out and grip his shoulders for stability.

He pushed further in until he was fully sheathed inside of me. There was a slight moment of regret for not letting him engage in foreplay before, but that quickly went away when the pain turned to pleasure. He gained more confidence in himself with each stroke, and I could feel it. The more powerfully he thrust, the more I felt myself tightening around him. The over simulation was a stark contrast from the stimulation I denied and so the sensation I was feeling was only heightened by the absence of it before. For that very reason, I knew I was already close. And maybe he knew it, too and just as sweet revenge, he decided to send me over the edge by pulling my leg over his shoulder to thrust into me a new angle. As I’m sure he predicted, I threw my head back as tears began to prick the corners of my eyes. He rode the ever exquisite border between pain and pleasure, and my tears were a manifestation of that. Not even a minute passed, before I tried to moan but pathetically failed, not even being able finish the pitiful wail without the both of us finishing together.

Our heavy panting synchronized and reverberated back to us while he slowed down his pace and pulled out. 

Perhaps in the heat of the moment, we lost all logic and reason, considering that even up till now, neither of us had realized that he didn’t use a condom. 

But what would eventually happen in the future as a result of this action, or inaction, would surely make us remember.

Spencer lowered himself down to kiss me breathlessly; strands of his hair clung to his forehead as sweat glimmered on both of us. Not until we were ready did we make our way to the bathroom so he could help clean me up. Once we returned, I gathered my clothes, but he made sure to grab my panties before I could even notice.

“Have you seen -“ I cut myself off when I saw what was dangling in his hands.

“Looking for this?” He teased.

All my energy had been spent on him that I couldn’t be bothered to fight for them back. 

“Keep ‘em.” I smirked, my hand reaching down to pick up his jacket off the floor and hold it up. “Consider it a fair trade.”

No arguments from him. 

Needless to say, I did end up finding a place to stay the night. Where and with whom you might ask? 

Well, you can probably figure that one out for yourself. 

_ _ _

I wish I could tell you I got a good night’s rest, and I could - it just wouldn’t be the truth. 

Spencer and I spent the rest of the night just talking. We filled each other in on nearly ever second of the past 11 years, and once again, I found myself reverting back to the teenager I was at the science fair. The entire world revolved around us as we spoke to each other effortlessly, like no time had passed. Even in the periods of silence, I felt comfortable. 

Spencer and I were lying on our sides facing one another when I felt compelled to profess that “I can’t talk this way with anyone. It’s just you.” 

He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear with a small smile on his lips. He didn’t need to say that he felt the same way because I already knew. His hand never left my face but instead made its descent down my jawline and stopped at my chin. He raised his thumb to reach my lower lip, letting the pad of his finger graze over the soft skin of my lip. 

It felt like he was tracing every detail of my body, running his eyes over every inch at least twice so as to fully commit everything to his memory. 

At last, the tension broke when he positioned his hand comfortably at the back of my neck, bowing his head forward to kiss me. This one was quite different than our first, for it was gentler and warmer. We weren’t forcing ourselves to make up for lost time. In fact, this kiss was saying, “We’ve got plenty of time.” 

Plenty of time indeed. Which we were happy to spend making love again. 

And I will be the first to admit that if our first round of unprotected sex didn’t solidify our future predicament, this time certainly did. 

Six Weeks Later ...

“Hello?” Clearly frustrated, Emilia waved her hand in front of my face to harness me back to earth. I hadn’t realized I zoned out until she scoffed at me. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

“No, sorry. Could you repeat it one more time?” 

She set down the papers in front of her and sighed unhappily. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been so distant lately.” 

It hurt to hear, even though it was the truth. I wasn’t intentionally being despondent, but it’s hard to be present when there’s so much occupying your mind, and there was one thing in particular that was keeping me up late at night recently. 

My period has always been irregular. For as long as I’ve had it, I’ve always missed a few weeks, then it would become consistent, then it would be sporadic again. In fact, there was one year where I only had four periods total. So it didn’t strike me as odd when I realized three days ago that my last period was about seven weeks ago. 

What did strike me as odd was the other symptoms I was experiencing. Menstruation cycles are known to closely mimic the symptoms of pregnancy, but with the knowledge that my period wasn’t coming, it was disconcerting to me that I was suffering the discomforts without the actual period itself. 

To me, there was only one clear explanation for this anomaly. 

I was pregnant. 

Earlier in the day, I bought a pregnancy test and was late to work because of it. If Emilia hadn’t been suspicious of my behavior before, showing up late only made her suspicion greater. 

I didn’t know when I’d take it, probably at home after work, but the anticipation was eating away at me. I would pace around the truck until Emilia finally told me to stop because the vehicle wouldn’t stop swaying with my every movement. I was biting my nails and chewing on each little piece that grew back just to bite it back down to the nub. My hands couldn’t stop shaking, my breathing wouldn’t slow down. I was a hysterical mess. 

I didn’t tell Spencer any of my concerns, of course, but being as perceptive as he is, he noticed my strange mannerisms despite my best efforts to hide them. 

“Your breathing just got faster. Are you feeling okay?” He paused the movie we were watching to check in on me one time. It should be known that the scene that caused my heavier breathing was a scene of a woman finding out she was pregnant and being absolutely devastated. I quickly brushed it off as just being too warm, to which he turned on his air conditioning. Luckily for me, he didn’t make the connection. 

And it’s not that I didn’t want to tell Spencer - I really did - but why should I make a fuss about something if there ended up being nothing to worry about? That would just be extra stress, and the last thing a new, blossoming relationship needs is additional strain. 

So without Spencer, I had to opt for the next best thing - my sister.

I’d reached my wits end, and I couldn’t keep up the act any longer. I was walking on eggshells with practically everyone I knew, and I’d sooner go crazy if I didn’t tell someone what I was really feeling. So in response to her question, I finally told the truth. 

“I think I might be pregnant.” 

You can imagine the shock on my sister’s face. Emilia’s jaw became one with the floor as her eyes widened so big I thought they would pop out of her head. 

“You’re pregnant?” Already her eyes were welling up with tears of joy. 

“I don’t know yet.” I put my arms around her to keep her calm and stable while the emotions began overpowering her. I wanted it to serve as a reminder to not get her hopes up, otherwise she’d get mine up, too. 

“Well, have you taken a test?” 

I reached for my purse behind her and rummaged through it until I finally retrieved the box. Holding it up, I reluctantly suggested, “I thought maybe you could be there for me when I did?” 

She squealed with joyful elation, practically shattering the window pane with the high pitch of her voice. On top of that, she was jumping up and down with elegant grace that I had to wonder how her pregnant body could even manage to do such a thing. 

“Of course, I will! Come, come, let’s go.” 

We hopped off the truck and to the nearest restroom, which admittedly wasn’t the nicest of places, nor was the place I ever imagined as a child that I’d be finding out I was pregnant in, but it had to do for now. 

When I first came out of the stall, I set the test face down on the sink, so that we wouldn’t see it until it was ready. Emilia set a timer for 10 minutes, but in the meantime, all we could do was wait. Neither of us could stay still; Emilia bounced up and down, rubbing her belly while facilitating some sort of breathing exercise. Meanwhile, I kept tapping my foot impatiently. 

Ding! Ding! Ding!

Emilia’s alarm scared the shit out of me, and we both were startled by the blaring sound. It was so jarring, but even that wouldn’t compare to the fear I felt when I realized it was finally time. 

“Do you wanna look or should I?” She asked. 

“You look.” I said at first. But when she lunged forward to take it, I did, too. “No wait, I should.” Then another moment of hesitation. “No, you do it. I can’t.” 

I held my hands over my mouth while I watched her carefully lift the test off the sink, maneuvering it in such a way that only she would see the results. I watched her expression closely for any sign of a reaction, but she was stoic as can be. I couldn’t tell if she was disappointed, happy - nothing. Complete and total poker face. 

“Come on, Emilia! What does it say?” I blurted anxiously.

“Well, first, what do you want it to say?” 

That was a question I hadn’t considered. I was so busy worrying about what I didn’t know, to pause and think about what I wanted to find out. On the one hand, I’d be ecstatic if the test confirmed that I was pregnant. I’d jump for joy because that was what I always wanted, right? But on the other hand, if it said I wasn’t pregnant, then I’d be sort of sad because I got so close to that lifelong dream. But after that, I’d probably just be relieved to have dodged a bullet.

“I don’t know,” I confessed. “I don’t know-”

“Don’t think. Just tell me. What do you want it to say?” 

Without missing a beat, I replied, “Positive.” My sister and I alike were stunned by my answer. “Yeah,” I nodded slowly. “Positive. I want it to say positive.” I repeated, to cement my earnest desire. 

Emilia’s facade melted away as she began to shake her head. “I’m sorry, (y/n). There’s only one line.” 

We both knew what that meant, even if she didn’t explicitly say it. I sighed dejectedly, which was a surprise to even myself. I didn’t expect to be this disappointed, and yet I was. The knot it my stomach worked itself free, and where that pit used to be was just emptiness. My heart sunk and steadied itself, and my breathing resumed its normal pace. 

“Well,” I bit my lip. “I guess that’s that.” 

Emilia instantly drew nearer to pull me in for a hug, one I was not ready to accept but welcomed anyway. “I’m sorry, (y/n). But I mean, sometimes tests just come out with false negatives.” With her face still buried in the crook of my neck in our hug, she mumbled, “Not this one, though. This one’s positive.” 

Immediately, I retreated from our hug and pulled her in front of my view. The sneaky girl had a huge grin that took up 99% of her face. 

“You’re pregnant!” She screamed at the top of her lungs, shaking my body violently. We embraced each other in another hug while simultaneously jumping up and down. “I just wanted to trick you so you would know how you really feel. Now you know!” 

And I did know. I did know that I wanted this baby and that I was glad it even existed. 

Not long after our mini-celebration did I start to come down from the high of my euphoria. A certain realization dawned on me like a cloud of gray hanging above my head to rain on my parade. 

What about Spencer?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

PART 2 HERE!

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[sirthisisa-wendys]

The Sacrifice Part 4: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: close brushes with death are rarely escaped without a few scars.

wc: 1.9k

tw: none - fluff (jesus WHEN are we getting to the NSFW stuff?! Come ON, PLOT)

masterlist

“Now… pour the tea.”

Your hands drift from the saucer to the teapot, and you slowly pour the steaming liquid into the waiting cup. You wonder why Clymenestra has you doing this instead of writing today, but you don’t ask any questions as she makes you repeat the action over and over again. “Strong wrists make for better handwriting,” she announces on your fifth cup of tea. “And you, my dear, need stronger wrists.”

You curse at her mentally on your way back from the room they call the “library”: (l-i-b-r-a-r-y), and when you reach your room, you lay in your bed, wrists exhausted from the exercise. In the time you’d spent learning how to read and write, you’d read four stories with Geto: Mija, the Little Mermaid; The Empress' Nightingale; The Princess and The Pea; and your personal favorite, The Snow Queen.

What really drives your interest, though, are the intricate illustrations and sketches of the characters within the book. It’s almost as if they come to life when you look at them in this way and sometimes, you took the book from Geto just to examine the details and intricacies of each colored page. But he’d sweetly call you back to reality and help you read the next sentence and the next, until the story was over. You’d learned how to sound out words by their letters, like “under”, “jumping”, and “fire”. Some words were easier than others, but you feel like you’re getting the hang of it, albeit, slowly.

So when Geto comes to you a few hours after dinner, you feel brave enough to hold your hands out for the book.

“Can we read the story about the girl who lost her slipper tonight?”

“You mean Settareh? The Persian Cinderella?”

“Yes,” you whisper eagerly, flipping until you see the beautiful woman illustrated in a purple frock. You run your hands over the large letters and then smile to yourself, eyeing the page greedily. You’re so focused on this, in fact, that you barely register Geto sliding in behind you and placing his large arm on the pillows. When he points to the first words, you’re already murmuring them along with him: “Once upon a time…” Then you begin your practice, sounding out the words slowly and methodically, praying you wouldn’t miss any. But if you did, Geto would help you, sounding it out, then letting you try it.

Tonight, you’re stuck on the word “illuminate”.

“I… lum… eh-lum...in… Geto, a little help?” When you turn to face the Dragon God, you’re thoroughly surprised to see his eyes completely closed. His breath comes out in soft hissing sounds, and his hands rest on your thighs as his chest rises and falls evenly. You consider waking him for a moment, but instead, close the book and set it on your nightstand, pulling the covers up around the both of you. Unsure if you should lean into his chest or not (for comfort, you tell yourself), you instead choose to curl up on your side away from him and close your eyes.

And for the first night in many nights, you fall asleep quickly.

_____________________________________________________________

The sunlight that graces your face in the morning awakens you from a deep sleep, and for once, you feel well-rested. It’s only when you try to stretch that you notice the body still laying beside you, arms resting around your frame. When you look to see who it is, you’re shocked that it’s still the Dragon God, now with his face nuzzled into your neck. He groans, fingers twitching, but doesn’t wake, which you’re concerned about at first, but then a thought comes to you.

You start at the top of his head, where his inky, dark locks stem from, and then follow the bridge of his nose past his eyebrows and to his eyes, which are closed. Long lashes rest against his upper and lower lash line, and you can imagine the black irises beneath the lids where green veins run underneath the thin layer of skin. You trace the tip of his nose with your eyes, then down to his lips, where they meet in a thin, pinkish line. When they turn up into a small smile, you look back up into his eyes, which are open now.

You inhale sharply, then almost begin to stammer out a reply, but the Dragon God presses his fingers to your lips to stop you. His eyes blink slowly, then he removes his fingers one at a time before leaning his head down and ghosting his lips over yours. You’re in enough shock to stay still, but another part of you wants him - silently dares him - to finish what he started. You don’t know what you’re doing, but instinct takes over abruptly and you press your lips to him, hoping against all hope that he would take the lead in some respect.

“Y/n…” he whispers against your mouth before pressing his lips against yours again. When your hands come up to cradle his neck and his hands dip below the sheets to pull you closer, something inside of you lights up like a long-forgotten flame, burning you alive and quickly at that. Your mouth moves against his slowly, pressing but not forcing, seeking but not finding. But it doesn’t matter.

Who knew your first kiss would be with a god?

Your first kiss.

You break the seal between your lips immediately and sit up, and Geto hums curiously.

“What’s wrong?” he whispers, sitting up slowly and letting his hands touch your shoulders.

“I--” you break off, confused. What is this feeling in my chest? When you turn to look at his face, it seems he’s utterly lost, but the doors are thrown open by Cly before you can clarify your feelings.

“Your Holiness: His Omnipresence, Toji Fushiguro, is here.” Not a beat passes before Geto tosses off the covers and shoots to his feet.

“Clymenestra, hide her.” Geto leaves without another word, and you hear the words,

“Well, I’ll be damned!” from an unfamiliar voice before you’re hustled into the bathroom by Ariadne and Serena, with Helen not too far behind.

“His Holiness was not expecting His Omnipresence to arrive, was he?” Ariadne hisses while running bathwater in a massive tub.

“No,” Serena answers, stripping you out of your nightgown.

“Wait, who is this?” you wonder, looking around at the women frantically.

“Toji is the God of Death, and the God of Wind’s father,” Helen answers.

Don’t go blabbing your mouth to your stupid father, either.

“Who told?” Helen asks no one in particular, but you recall seeing the pink-haired youth the other day and groan inwardly. You’re already making a mess of things, and you aren’t even immortal yet. Voices are getting louder from the hallway, and the women around you begin to scramble.

“In, in!” Ariadne encourages you, and you step into the lukewarm bath, watching them strip to their undergarments and dunk their robes into the water with you. It appears as if they are pretending to wash their clothes - thus making a protective half-circle concealing you from sight - when the doors to the bathroom fly open, and you hear:

“Oh, shit. Sorry, ladies. Have you seen a little human female around here?” The women squeal, making a scene by clutching at themselves and bending over the tub (and you), and Geto yells,

“Toji, give the ladies some privacy!” The doors slam shut, and the three women return to normal, pulling their clothes out of the water and wringing them out. No one speaks until Ariadne whispers,

“This is why Geto turns us into immortals,” and then places her hands on her forehead, rubbing some phantom headache away. “Toji is always looking for something so he can kill it.”

_____________________________________________________________

With the fiasco behind you, you rest in the bed and attempt to close your eyes. But every time you close them, you hear Toji’s voice and your eyes fly open again, your heart beats faster, and you can feel thick fingers running over your skin. You fly out of your bed and into the corridor, where lamps light your way past the dining room and into the library, where you sit among the various volumes that you don’t even pretend to want to read. But there’s something about these books that makes you feel safe as if their words could protect you from a heinous creature such as Toji Fushiguro.

“Looking for something to read?” you hear from above you, and you look up, following the sound to a ladder poised at the end of the bookshelves. Geto stands atop it, sliding a book back into the highest shelf before sliding back down it. Watching him swiftly descend makes your heart leap a little, and you wonder why you’re just now noticing all of the ways he looks like he was sculpted by a master craftsman. His hair is tied up in a half-bun, and he’s dressed in a simple black and white shuhe and duanda, almost identical to Megumi’s.

“I can’t stop thinking about Toji,” you admit, and he frowns, coming closer to you and swiping two fingers from the right side of your chin to the left, then cupping your cheek in his hand.

“You have nothing to fear, y/n. Toji won’t harm you as long as you remain here in my realm.” You want to be reassured by the words - you really do. But it seems as if even Geto might have to bend to Toji’s will at some point. And you didn’t know if you’d personally be caught in the crossfire. “Please, don’t think about his intrusion.”

“Ariadne told me that Toji is the reason why you make them immortal.”

“She’s telling you the truth,” he affirms, nodding. “He almost didn’t leave today. I had to convince him he was mistaken multiple times.” Geto shakes his head, his hand drifting from your cheek to your thigh. “But when you learn how to read, it will all be rectified.”

“What if he finds me before then?” you breathe, and he takes your shaking hands, pressing tender kisses to your fingers rapidly.

“I won’t let him harm you. I will give you my word as my bond.” You feel a weight lift from your shoulders and sigh deeply. “Now, you should get some rest.” When he pulls you up from your seat and drags you along with him, you wonder where he’s taking you until you see a large wooden door decorated with images of dragons.

Geto pushes it open and reveals a bedroom massive enough to cover the entire city square. He points to his bed in the dim lighting and you crawl into the oversized behemoth, snuggling under a blanket that looks like someone's hand wove the animals, clouds, and nature-scapes into the fabric.

“You can sleep here whenever you desire.”

“But where will you sleep?” you ask, sitting up a little.

“I have a massive side of the bed to myself. Don’t worry, I’m sharing it, not bequeathing it.” When you’re satisfied, he pulls the covers around you, tucking you in properly, then presses a kiss to your forehead. “Sleep well, y/n.”

He sits at a desk as you burrow deeper into the covers, and as you fall asleep, you know you’ll spend every single night in the presence of the Dragon God from now on.

_____________________________________________________________

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[january31st]

Ablaze: Chapter 3

Cruella (2021) x reader

A/N: here is where i get to my philosophical rambles, beware of the swollen brain

Warnings: a dumb chemistry metaphor because. drunk people at a party

|| Masterlist || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Wattpad Link ||

~3400 words

Once the show itself was over, came the party with all the high society people, which you now had to attend in place of Lilly as well, and you mostly stuck with Artie and tried unsuccessfully to lay low.

The issue there was that they actually seemed to have enjoyed your walk a lot, so they came to you and asked if “could there be a chance that I’ve seen you modeling before?”. When you accidentally got yourself into this you had no idea that people would be congratulating you for it? Given that most of them didn’t even know you were the makeup artist before Artie told them, it felt odd that they would be congratulating you for literally just existing with a pretty dress on. And of course they would go on long winded conversations that always ended on how rich and important they were, and as always, you did nothing to stop them because you didn’t want to be rude.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to endure it for too long, the party naturally ended and everyone went to their lovely mansions, except of course for you and the crew, for whom the night was still young (and no mansions to go back to also). Most of the backstage people had already left the House of DeVil for the other location owned by Cruella, somewhere that worked mostly as a place for storage, but also where the crew held the afterparties for the shows as well. It was out on the other side of town, fairly close to your place, and even closer to Artie’s, but either way you had to hop on a taxi because it was just too far away to walk.

When you got there almost everyone was already drunk to some degree and enjoying themselves, so the only rational thing for the two of you to do was adhere to the fun.

“Because you did so well, you have to enjoy yourself tonight!” he said, handing you a drink. “You always act like the mom when we’re out, but tonight I’ll take care of you, you need to have fun babe. You only live once!”

You rolled your eyes at him “Someone has to be responsible, you know.”

“And I appreciate your care so so much sweetheart, but not tonight. Drink up!”

The show had been a success from what critics had said on the site, the brilliance of the pieces really came through and everyone was expecting the papers on the next morning to be filled with Cruella’s geniusness. And of course, a happy boss means happy employees, which in turn makes for a great afterparty.

She arrived a bit later and was welcomed with a roar of applause from everyone and drinks and congratulations from all over. The way everyone was happy for her (and the couple of drinks you had) made you forget how she had acted with you before, so when you caught a glimpse of her unaccompanied you went to strike up a conversation.

“That was incredible, I never got to tell you how brilliant those pieces were. It was very easy to work like that, I must admit, there was no way I could’ve looked at them and not feel inspired.”

She offered you a smirk and said “And I must admit your job wasn’t half bad.” she then looked you up and down and added “Also, my dress made you look extra pretty darling”

You laughed and tried to ignore how hot your face felt “Oh is that so?”

The look she gave you made your stomach flutter. Either the look or really just the alcohol, and you really wished it was the second one.

You turned to look the other way when you heard Artie calling your name across the crowd.

“Y/N come here! It’s our song, let’s go!”

You offered her one last smile and went up to him.

During the course of the night you and Artie sang along and harmonised like two little choir girls, and at one point, in your light headed state you even grabbed Cruella by the hand to come and sing along as well. Eventually everyone was singing along to all sorts of music and nonsense, the atmosphere resembling that of a long car trip with friends. Then when your throat felt sore things moved along to telling jokes and funny stories.

For whatever reason Artie was sitting on your lap, as the two of you shared a pleasant conversation with Cruella and some of the models, talking about the show, the preparations and how her first year of success had unfolded. Much to your bliss, her silence was long gone and you finally got to meet the Cruella that Artie had talked so much about.

At one point or another during the conversation, people left to go dance or just spend some time with other groups of people, until it was just the three of you.

Still on your lap, Artie had his arms around you and patted your head as if you were a dog. “Well don’t let her adorableness fool you!” he mumbled as you swatted his hands away. “One time she kicked this… acquaintance of mine completely unconscious! And I mean, he was a Hercules type guy, he was sooo toned, like all over”

“Oh?” said Cruella with a lift of the eyebrows.

“To be fair he didn’t see me coming, and it took him a while to figure that I was the one who whacked him. And if you didn’t love trouble so much I wouldn’t have to keep hitting random people! You’re lucky I would do anything for you.” You said, then proceeding to be the sentimental drunk, hand over your heart “Literally Artie, I would claw my chest open and rip my heart out with my bare hands for you.”

Artie sighed and said “I wouldn’t mind if you had let him rip me open.” you laughed and hit him playfully.

“And you don’t want me to be concerned about your wellbeing! Your type being brutes with all muscle and no brains is going to get you in a real pickle some day.”

“Ah! Bashing my taste like that! Your record isn’t too good either Y/N.” he said, acting offended.

“My record? As if it’s my fault that they never take my love seriously.” you defended yourself while trying to ignore the interested look Cruella had.

“Oh, speaking of, how’s red?” he asked.

“Hm, yes, the ginger” you said, scratching your neck “Well, she’s engaged apparently.”

“No!” he exclaimed.

“Yes! To some royal navy guy” you stared ahead regretfully. “Way to make a conversation real depressing!”

You patted Artie on the back as a sign for him to get up.

“I’ll go get some water, I feel like we could all use some.” you said rubbing your leg, realising how long you had been sitting like that.

“Oh don’t bother babe, I’m up already, I’ll get it” he offered.

Now it was the two of you alone again, she toyed with her cup for a moment before asking “Aren’t you going to do anything to get her back?”

Her question took you by surprise, and after thinking for a moment you answered “Um.. No,I don’t think so. I loved her very much, and that is true, but I believe that when someone needs to go, you should let them. She wasn’t the first and won’t be the last, and it does hurt. Quite a lot honestly. But I find that letting go and accepting the way things are is much better than gripping at something. It ruins things every time, when something wasn’t meant to work and you insist that it should.”

“But if things were good then weren’t they worth the fight?” she asked, thankfully listening to your philosophical ramble instead of making fun of you.

“Of course, sometimes it is, some things you really have to fight for. But also letting go doesn’t mean you appreciated them any less. Then it’s almost like you can keep the good in a jar to hold forever, it was never ruined by what could come after. The fairytale lives on.”

“And what if there was more afterwards? You are willing to let the chance for something greater go? Just like that? It doesn’t bother you, the what ifs?”

“No, I guess they don’t. At one point when you’ve lost so much you accept that that’s life and that things have to end eventually.”

“Even Artie?”

“Oh hell no, I’m never letting him go. He’s different, he’s always been there you know? We’ve known each other forever, he’s the saving point of the game.”

“Huh. You are quite curious darling, I must admit. At first there you made me think you were just not ambitious, but that can’t be the case, you work for me afterall. You intrigue me. I couldn’t figure out what it was.There’s some… dare I say, charm? To you, and it’s what makes you get your way with people. Is it this unattachment of yours that makes you be like that?”

“Oh I wouldn’t say unattachment. I do latch on every time, I guess you could say I live in the moment, I really appreciate the good things I have, I really really live them, take in as much as I can while I can. It’s just knowing when they’ve given me all they could. It’s like growing out of your favourite pair of shoes.”

“I see, very interesting.” she said, and after that followed the first comfortable silence the two of you would share, until Artie finally found his way back.

“Brought snacks as well!” he said, putting the water down on the table behind the two of you and then lifting the plate in his hand “Glad to see the two of you haven’t ripped each other's heads out yet”

“And why would we do that?” Cruella asked.

“See, I had a really bad impression of you. Because you never said much during our other encounters I just thought you hated me to death” you answered, then took a big gulp of water, the freshness making you feel sober instantly.

Her smirk was even stronger than usual, you noticed, she must have been drunker than you were. “Really darling? I could never hate someone as gorgeous as you”

Standing up where she couldn’t see it, Artie gave you a funny face, then pointed to a group of the few people who hadn’t left yet, and snuck away. Before you could stop him she continued “I was stunned really, that’s all. And you are very talented. Not as much as me of course.”

“Thank you- I never expected...” you said as she slid closer, hand reaching for the plate between the two of you.

“Do you think I’m such a bad person?” She took a bite of the food, with an amused smile playing at her lips. “Also” she reached to straighten the collar of your shirt “I think we look perfect together, don’t you, darling?”

You opened your mouth, unsure of what to say to that, heat rising in your chest from where her hand was still placed. Your uneasiness seemed to please her, and she added “Our styles I mean. My pieces, your makeup. My art, your art.”

You exhaled a laugh and said “Yeah, definitely”. She hummed in answer and sat back again. Whatever song had been playing before came to an end, and you realised how your ears were ringing. Now was the moment you regretted taking that one last drink (because the last drink is always the culprit, not the countless others before it) and it was also when you started to brace yourself for the hangover that would come the morning after.

She took a sip of her water and you mirrored her action, admiring the way she looked as she scanned the place, relaxed, enjoying herself. Your free hand grazed the spot near your neck where her hand had been just moments ago, but you quickly grabbed some food before she could notice.

It was apparent that the night was coming to an end, no one had put another song on yet, and the handful of people who had stuck around were making their way out as well. You decided to stand up and stretch a bit as Artie came back.

“Well, I do have to open the shop tomorrow morning, we better get home” he said.

“Aye, I do miss my bed already” you answered with a sleepy smile.

“Are you coming?” Artie asked as he turned to Cruella.

“You two go on, sleep tight.” She answered.

“Sure thing, don’t stay up too late” he said.

“Goodnight!” you called from the door.

You had no idea how late it was, but it was very cold. The combination of that and the lingering drunkenness made you feel completely numb, and it was a bit too hard to walk. You linked your arm with Artie’s to get some human warmth, but even that didn’t help much.

The two of you slowly walked the couple of blocks it took to get to the Second Time Around, Artie’s flat was on the same building, the one at the very top of it.

“I don’t think you should be walking home now Y/N, you can crash at my place.” he said as he fumbled for the keys.

“Honestly I don’t want to walk all those steps up there” you said, aware of the way your words dragged. “Y’know that sofa out in the back? Awfully comfy if I recall”

“Sure thing sweetheart, tomorrow I don’t wanna hear about your back hurting.” he said as he led you into the shop, locking up behind you.

“You won’t, promise.” You answered as you stumbled your way to the room in the back of the shop. There were wire racks where more clothes were hanging, awaiting their second life, a couple boxes of things yet to unpack, and a little bit of a living area with a sofa, an armchair and a big table with a sewing machine. Thankfully there was also a small bathroom even further back.

By the time you had left for the afterparty you had already changed into your more comfortable clothes you wore to work that day, so right now you flopped onto the sofa, head spinning for a few moments before you fell asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The yellow shadows danced along to the beat that pounded in the room as you entered it. Everyone had their candle in hand, and as you went forward through the crowd you could feel the heat rise and fall as you passed each flame, somehow it’s rhythm aligned with the song. The angry screeches from the guitar entangled themselves with the crash of cymbals and thump of the bass drum, making the perfect match for the scratchy voice that accompanied them.

Though the room seemed dark at first, now amidst the candles you felt like a moth happily melting in a bonfire, your head buzzing as a warning, but the familiar voice was calling to you with her song.

Amidst the flames her skin seemed to glow, even the polished leather faded into darkness in comparison. Her lips were the ambers fuelling the heat with their words and her eyes sparkled in zinc. Half her hair pure as heaven itself, and the other one hiding all the secrets to your soul.

You stood close enough to realise that the temperature had nothing to do with the fire around you, it was her. Every note and every word getting clogged into your brain to never ever leave again, only to stay and fuse themselves with the tissue there.

“I knew it all along!” she sang as you stared at her. “I knew this would be trouble”

And then her face was gone. Now you saw gowns and shoes and coats and trousers again, the chaotic colours filling your vision and sinking into your stomach just as fast as you felt they would come back out. Your head thumped to the same beat as the song in your dream, maybe Artie had the radio on?

In a second of silence that felt like forever you realised the radio wasn’t on, but somehow you could still hear her from a distance.

“I knew this would be trouble because someone like that can’t co-exist with fucking Cruella De Vil, it’s too much for the people! The new star in the making, the chameleon, a thousand and more talents! Will she cease to surprise? What can we expect next?! She’s perfect Artie, how would anyone care about anything other than that?”

“Okay, let’s maybe calm down a bit?” interjected Artie. You stood up slowly, the sting on your back not going unnoticed.

“Calm down??? Darling I don't think I need to remind you of the things we had to do to upstage the Baroness? And now your little friend comes in and breathes and all we worked for goes to ashes! Artie I have no idea what your plan is with that snake but you know I will turn your life into a living hell if I find out that you had anything to do with this." You stood at the register, looking from one to the other, neither of them noticing your presence.

“What the hell is going on?” you asked.

“You!” Her hair was a mess, makeup from last night still dark around her eyes, accentuating the piercing look she shot you. “You treacherous little thing! Your stupid façade fooled even me!” She tossed a newspaper onto the counter, and in it you saw yourself during last night’s show.

“With your kind words, with that ‘oh let me take care of you, please drink this’ bullshit. I’ll give it to you, you might have gotten away with it if I hadn’t caught you. I mean, what did you do to the girl? Poison her?”

“Seriously, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“Don't play with me” she pointed a finger at you “You want to tear me down but I will simply not allow it. You can’t upstage me!”

You stared at her in disbelief as she went on and on. The title on the newspaper’s first page read ‘Young musician perplexes the fashion world on the runaway’ and below that ‘Multi-faceted and always surprising, is there anything Y/N can’t do? Keep on reading to hear from her most devoted listeners from the bars with the best sound in town!”

“This-” you tried to work around your headache for words “This was never supposed to happen”

“Oh, wasn’t it? Tell me about it! How you two have been plotting against me all-”

“Girl, no- I” Artie seemed to also be having trouble knowing how to react, hands out in front of him. The fact that she turned in on Artie like this made you mad.

“We haven’t been plotting anything, not everyone is a calculating, power-hungry maniac like you! You’ve gotten so obsessed with having the spotlight that you can’t even see someone from the corner of your eye without thinking they’re a threat to your existence! Your obsession with success is going to be your downfall, trust me.”

“Oh is that so? Is that a threat, am I supposed to be scared?”

“No it’s not a fucking threat, I’m just saying you need to chill the fuck out, and then maybe you could handle things a bit better than this. The fact that you’re so afraid of failing is going to be the very thing that will make your failure feel abysmal when it does come.”

“Darling, Cruella never-”

“But this” You waved the paper around “This one paper saying that I’m some pretty looking guitar girl isn’t a fucking failure to you! The fact that they talk about other people doesn’t mean you have become irrelevant or that what you do is less admired.”

“What the hell would you know about it? What the hell do you know about being relevant? You have no idea what it takes to be powerful in the first place! You just got lucky that you snuck in on me but I won’t allow the likes of you to get ahead of me. You’re nothing! Not even your shitty who-in-the-fuck record label thinks you’re worth the first meeting”

At that your defensive mode was out of mind, how the fuck would she know about this?

|| Masterlist || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Wattpad Link ||

if you want to be added to a taglist for this series, feel free to reach out in whatever way you prefer :)

[ikeromantic]

Old Friends, New Adventures

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfic - this scene occurs post-Romantic epilogue. Approx. 2200 words of fluff and stuff.

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: My Home is Your Home

Mitsuhide was expecting to see Sarutobi. Afterall, he had invited the ninja and arranged the trip to align with the . . . worm hole. Instead, it was Ranmaru waiting for them downstairs. His wide smile and bright gaze made the warlord suspicious. He watched through narrowed eyes as his fiance bounded down the stairs and threw her arms around Ranmaru in greeting.

“It’s good to see you! Is everything ok?” She let go to look him in the face.

Ranmaru laughed. “I was about to say the same thing!” He took her hands. “I just had to come say hi when I realized this was where -” his gaze shifted to Mitsuhide. “Akechi ran off with you to.”

“We didn’t run off!” She pulled her hands out of his grip, clearly remembering Mitsuhide’s advice. “Anyway, I thought you were staying in Azuchi. Did you come all the way here to visit me?”

“Yes, why are you here,” Mitsuhide added.

Ranmaru took them both in with his wide, guileless eyes. “Oh! I suppose you left before Nobunaga announced it! I am taking a message to Kyoto for him.” He leaned forward and whispered theatrically. “It’s top secret.”

Mitsuhide did not believe the page. There were countless messengers for most letters and for important correspondence, there was no way Nobunaga would entrust that to Ranmaru. He needed to see this letter. With his crescent moon smile in place, the kitsune replied. “In that case, I must offer you my hospitality tonight. I’ll have a guest room set up for you.”

He expected Ranmaru to argue, and had already prepared several potential counter-arguments. None of them were needed. The page bowed. “Thanks, Mitsuhide! That’s really nice of you!”

His reaction almost made the warlord second guess himself. Was this what Ranmaru wanted all along? And if so, why? But he couldn’t ask. He just smiled and nodded to his castle staff. They would know what room to put the page in. It had thick walls and no windows. A secure door that could slide into place from the outside, turning the room into a cell. Mitsuhide would have answers from the page one way or another.

“Would you like to join us, Ranmaru? We’re going to visit the town and then have dinner here at the castle.” The chatelaine glanced at Mitsuhide to make sure this was alright.

“No, no. I’ll just head up to my room for a nap. I ran all the way here and I’m pretty tired.” The page wrinkled his nose. “I know you two want some alone time, anyway. But maybe we can have dinner together before I leave. That would be nice.”

Mitsuhide’s smile widened. Miyake could keep tabs on Ranmaru and maybe that would reveal all he needed to know. They said their goodbyes and left the page in good hands.

Outside the castle, the wind picked up. On the horizon, grey storm clouds billowed and boiled. There was a charge in the afternoon air that set teeth on edge. Even grown men looked askance at the shadows under trees and the darkness between close-packed buildings. It felt like the town was waiting for something.

The chatelaine noticed the brewing storm and frowned. “Do you think we’ll get rained on?”

Mitsuhide shook his head. “If a storm blows through while we are out, we can stop in a shop until it passes. This isn’t the season for heavy rains.” Still, he felt the strange currents in the cool breeze. His hand settled on his sword hilt and for just a moment, he thought of bringing the tanegashima. But this was not a battlefield and he was confident he could handle whatever came.

Many of the town’s residents still remembered the battle at Enryaku-ji, and they regarded their new lord with a wary respect. It was obvious in the way their gaze skittered to the side. How they answered every question with care. His little mouse noticed.

Her smiles were gentle and her compliments many. Mitsuhide could not help but be impressed at the way she set people at ease in her presence. She would make an excellent partner, he thought. One that could balance his strength and weakness. He didn’t notice the proud smile that turned his lips up or the warmth in his eyes as he watched her.

It was early evening when the sullen sky began to loose fat, wet rain drops. They fell in a slow but steady patter, creating little streams down the sides of buildings. The street sellers packed up their wares and people ducked into homes and shops to wait out the storm. Mitsuhide and his little one tucked themselves under the eaves of a closed shop.

“Do you want to stop by the inn for some warm sake before we go home?” Mitsuhide had to lean close to be heard over the rain on the rooftop.

She smiled and nodded. “Just one for me though. I can’t drink like you do.”

Mitsuhide grinned, wondering what she would say if she knew he didn’t drink as much as he seemed to. A man needed to have some secrets though. He grasped her hand and together they ran out under the rain, across the street and down two doors to the building with bright lanterns and music.

The inn here was always busy. It was a waystation for merchants between Kyoto and Azuchi. A natural place to stop and rest. Today was no exception. With the storm outside, the inn’s benches were packed from one side to the other. Mostly with merchants and their guards. A few townspeople, and some of the evening ladies who walked between tables looking for the most advantageous company.

One of the servers recognized Mitsuhide as they walked in, and hurried over. In moments, they were seated in a private room, hidden from the common area by deftly painted screens. Another server arrived with a tray of warm sake and onigiri.

“For you, my lord.” Both servers bowed low. It seemed they remembered his comment last time about preferring easy to eat foods.

“My betrothed would like -” Mitsuhide began, but she shook her head.

“No, this is fine. I’m not that hungry right now.”

Mitsuhide raised an eyebrow but nodded agreeably. “Thank you. You may go.”

Both men ducked out quickly, as if afraid the kitsune warlord might change his mind.

“They really seem afraid of you,” the chatelaine frowned after them. “I wish they knew how good and kind you really are.”

“Don’t go ruining my reputation, little mouse. I worked hard on it.” Mitsuhide laughed, but he was only half joking. “Let them see you as the kind and gentle Akechi, and continue to believe I am the monster.”

“But-”

Mitsuhide shook his head. “It is what must be. For now, at least.”

She looked as if she wanted to argue but after a moment, she smiled. “Alright. I know it is necessary, but I will look forward to the day I can introduce the Mitsuhide I know to all of them.”

He felt his cheeks heat at her sweet words and the look of adoration she wore. It never ceased to amaze him how precious she could be. To hide his unwieldy emotions, he turned his head to look at the screens. “Are you going to pour the sake or keep chattering away, little mouse?”

“Ooh that got to you,” she giggled. “I can see red in your cheeks!”

“You had best pour me a drink before I decide to return the favor,” he murmured. His tone had turned more husky than brusque. He hated the way she made him reveal his heart to her. It was impossible to hide from her.

“Alright, alright.”

Mitsuhide felt her move, heard the delicate clink of porcelain. He tried to focus on details to calm the fast beat of his heart and the warmth in his face. It wasn’t working very well. All he could think of was getting his love back to their room in the castle and peeling every stitch of fabric from her. With his teeth.

“You know, Nobunaga asked me once to serve him sake from my lips . . .”

Wide-eyed, Mitsuhide’s head snapped around to look at her. She was holding his sake cup in her hands. While he watched, she put it to her mouth and tipped it just enough to leave a trace of wine on her lips.

It was too much. First the sweetness and now this bold flirtation. Mitsuhide pulled her to him and kissed her. The rice wine blended with the taste of her, a heady alcohol to the drunkenness of his love.

She was vibrant and alive against him, her body warm, her hands caressing his back. Her lips moved against his, savoring the kiss. A breathy moan lost itself between them.

Mitsuhide might have done more, had they not been interrupted. Again. An embarrassed cough from a silhouette behind the painted screen. He broke their kiss reluctantly and turned his head to face the door. “Yes?”

Miyake poked his head in, cheeks stained red, eyes bright with held laughter. “Ehm. Sorry to interrupt your . . drink.”

“I assume this is an emergency?” The warlord’s tone was not amused.

“Maybe?” Miyake shrugged. “The page disappeared from his room. He is not in the castle and no one has seen him in the town. I have some men out looking for him. In fact, I’m on my way to join them. But I wanted to bring you this - in case it’s important.” He held out an envelope.

Mitushide took it. His expression remained one of calm annoyance, but inside he was a tumult of emotion. Worry for his little one, concern for the Oda forces, and even for Ranmaru. It was hard to play the traitor, harder still to be one. The envelope was sealed and on the front, it was addressed to the chatelaine.

She looked at it curiously. “Why do you suppose Ranmaru ran off? You think he’s in such a big hurry? And why did he leave me a letter? He could have just said goodbye in person.”

“I hope the letter will enlighten us.” Mitsuhide broke the seal and unfolded the paper. It held just three words.

I am sorry.

“What do you suppose that means?” The chatelaine looked anxious and confused.

Her naivete was endearing, but there were times Mitsuhide wished she was more suspicious.

Miyake snorted. “Pretty sure he’s not apologizing for missing dinner.” He turned around at the sound of a disturbance in the common room. Benches being pushed across the floor, shouts of alarm, and the stomp of running feet.

A ball of ice solidified in Mitsuhide’s belly. He hadn’t thought the ninja would act so soon - nor so precipitously. And now . . . he stood up. “Let’s see what is going on.”

The three of them pushed past the milling crowd and out into the rainy street. Across Lake Awaumi, red flames reflected against the steel grey sky. A fire big enough that even from this distance, they could smell the char of wood.

“Is that Azuchi,” his little mouse asked in a small voice.

“You can bet your best slippers, my lady.” Miyake’s face was set in a hard smile. One that promised violence to come.

“It appears, my little one, that our vacation has been cut short. We must return to Azuchi tonight.” Mitsuhide hugged her, taking comfort as much as giving it. The peace he’d hoped for was short lived, and now there was work to be done.

Above them, the storm rumbled and the rain began to fall in earnest. In moments, the fires across the lake were no more than a red glimmer barely seen through the wall of falling water. There was no sound but the rushing rain and the thunder.

Mitsuhide, Miyake, and the chatelaine fled back toward Sakamoto Castle to gather what they needed to return to Azuchi.

A figure collided with them in the street. Miyake stumbled and almost fell. Mitsuhide pushed his beloved behind him and set a hand on his sword.

“I - I’m sorry. I can’t see anything without my glasses. Please accept my deepest apologies!” The man had to shout to be heard, but even with his voice raised, Mitsuhide recognized the speaker.

“Sarutobi Sasuke.” It was an inopportune arrival, but then, neither of them could have planned for the events of this evening.

“Sasuke!” The chatelaine pushed past her fiancee to throw her arms around her old friend.

Mitsuhide pushed wet hair back from his face, squinting into the darkness. It looked like the ninja was alone, as agreed.

“Uh, my lady? Could we do this someplace dry?” Miyake’s strained voice cut through the storm sounds.

Sasuke nodded, wiping at his face. “Yes, that would be preferable. We don’t have much time though. I miscalculated the -”

A rush of wind silenced whatever else he’d been about to say. It came with a flash of lightning so bright, it blinded. And a roll of thunder that shook him to his bones. As suddenly as the wind came, it died. It left behind only empty silence and the sense of a vast space.

For a heartbeat, Mitsuhide panicked. This was a strange place, one without a sky or ground. Without familiar sounds or smells. He was alone. His little one, gone.

And then her hand found his.

He traced the small bones with his thumb, fingers entwined with hers. Though he wasn’t sure what was happening, he feared he understood.

Next: Adrift

[binniesthighs]

call me babydoll | reader x chan

a/n: ahhhhh wow WOW cuties LOL i was not expecting this fic idea to keep me up in my sleep and occupy all my waking thoughts BUT thank you so so  much for you words of support!! hehe well....here we goooo i hope that ya’ll are ready teehee--also tags will be added as they come! You can read part one here

Two 

Pairing: self insert, female reader x bang chan 

Genre: action, mystery and suspense, fluff, smut, angst 

Tags: (of this part) bodyguard au, secret agent au, royal au, moderndayprince!chan, secretagent!reader, secretagent!jeongin, secretagent!jisung, skz side characters, adventure and mystery, action and peril, plot driven, running out of time, slow-ish burn, growing feelings, sexual tension, explicit language, jeongin in this fic is my bb and i will protect him, sexy and smart jeongin tho still hehe 

CWs: mentions of death, people dying/killing, mentions of blood and wounds, mentions of getting drunk, hungover, and vomiting, a bombing. 

Word count: 5.2k 

Parts

ONE | TWO | THREE

The road was long and winding, pitch black, desolate, quiet and foreign. In the backseat of the car, Chan had slumped his head over on Jeongin’s shoulder and bobbed with the motions of the road. His nose would twitch in his sleep, and he would make little grunts of nonsense words. He had worked himself up after the banquet, and actually hadn’t stopped his “love confessions” until you told him to shut up or you would shut him up. 

Your partner’s glasses were illuminated from the screen of his laptop which he tapped quietly away at. You too felt drowsy, but sleep would be for later once you had properly arrived at the safe house, or safe hotel, or safe hole in the ground...whatever it was. 

“You hear anything from Carroll?” You slung your arm over the seat and lowered your voice. 

“Nothing yet.” His eyes flicked around the screen. “It’s almost like it’s too quiet. I’ve already told her that we have the prince and that he’s safe, but..nothing.” 

“You don’t think...they got targeted too?” 

Chan snored lightly on his bodyguard’s shoulder, and he didn’t dare to move an inch. 

“I sure as hell hope not. But...that would explain why things have been so quiet. If this was a larger scale attack...I don’t know what this could mean then.” 

From the darkness of the outside world in the car windows, you passed a forest of pines and oher types of stoic trees making up the mountainside. 

“Well, I think that we should be optimistic for the time being.” 

Jeongin nodded. He looked to be a mess: blood had splattered at his white shirt collar and in specks on his neck. His cracked lenses however, didn’t keep him from his work. He had pulled his tie loosely around his neck, and had also provided his jacket as a pseudo-blanket of sorts for the prince. The prince, had offered his own jacket to you seeing as you only had your dress, but you had been managing just fine. You accepted it, but only because it could soothe his chivalrous ego. He had a hard night already, so you saw it best. 

“Two, where are you taking us?” You called to the mysterious driver. 

Ever since meeting him at the hotel, he had been nearly silent the whole ride. 

The man cleared his throat, “As far away from here as I can. I don’t know of any safe houses so...I’m just trying to remove us.” 

“I can find one for us if Carroll doesn’t get back to me....which she should...” 

Jeongin was not one for speaking of his mother as anything other than his boss. Since he had been assigned to be your partner a few months ago, he had never referred to her as his mother, nor did he ever seem to harbor any emotion for the stern woman. Both of them had been a bit allusive to you, but that was simply how it was in this line of work. You didn’t know things about the people around you, and you didn’t need to ask. You had wondered if he had worried about her, or thought about her when you were on missions. The young man had trained rigorously, and had passed each exam from the academy with flying colors. After considering it for a while, you figured what immense pressure he must've been under: son of the woman in charge, a master at infiltration, espionage, manipulation, cybersecurity, and a million more things; he had to prove himself and more. 

You couldn’t have asked for a better partner, but you almost did wish that you had known more. 

Two fiddled with the radio, settling on a station that played some kind of country-western type music. 

“What’s your specialty Two? How’d you end up a part of this shitshow?” 

The driver laughed, then hummed along with the music for a moment. “This has been my gig for few years, but I’ve never been a part of this unit before. Carroll always saw it best for my services to be used in other places.” 

“You have a specialty?” Jeongin asked while still typing furiously. 

Two scratched the back of his head. “I do a little bit of everything. But...let’s just say that I’m good at making friends. That’s why Carroll likes me.” 

“--You know her personally?” Your partner quipped, but the edge to his voice didn’t sound like judgement, but rather caution. 

“We’ve had a few meetings.” 

“Hm.” 

You kicked off your heals to massage your aching toes. If only they had attacked at a time when you had the proper footwear. 

“You said we could also call you J?” You sprawled over the back seat in an attempt to make yourself more comfortable. Still, the plastic seatbelt buckles poked into your back. 

“Yes. You can call me J.” 

And that was that. No “What’s J stand for”, or “where are you from”, “where’s your home base,” “how did you rank at the academy?” You added questions to the list of things that weren’t allowed as well. 

Jeongin tore off his glasses with an exasperated sigh to rub at his tired eyes. Chan made a happy little noise, presumably because he had found a cozier spot on Jeongin’s shoulder. He had now gotten the chance to sleep off his drunken stupor that may or may not had contributed to his sudden confession, and the reason behind the two pitstops you had taken for him to retch on the side of the road. 

If he was a prince, he might’ve also been one mess of a prince. In all of his grace and confidence, the pleasures that he partook in would often get the best of him at times too. 

You gave up on trying to get some sleep, but rather sat up to watch that paradoxically handsome and misshapen prince. Just like this: sleeping, vulnerable, with some kind of lopsided smirk on his face, he was much less than the regal figure that you had painted him to be in your mind. For maintaining appearances the whole day long, you hadn’t ever really gotten the chance to see him like this before. His façade faded, and you surmised that maybe he really was different from the way that he let on. 

“I’m so fucking tired.” Jeongin yawned. 

“Get some sleep then. I’ll stay up to watch things.” 

“That’s just it. I can’t sleep even if I tried.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Can you pass me some hand sanitizer or something? There’s...blood on my hands.” 

Your partner’s voice cracked slightly. It was then when you realized that this had been the first time that he had fired at real people. 

“I’ve got a water bottle? Is that enough?” 

“Yeah. It’s fine.” 

He splashed the liquids around while wiping his hands away, then flicked the remnants of water away. 

“Something about this doesn’t sit right with me.” 

“How do you mean?” 

Chan’s coat draped over your shoulders, and you pulled it in closer around your arms. The night had been cool, and the AC blasting in the car didn’t make it much better. 

Jeongin licked his lips. “Nothing was supposed to happen tonight. We made sure of it. No one was suspicious, we ran background checks, we checked the whole area...” 

“Hey,” You attempted to turn your tone softer, “We couldn’t have seen it coming. They just rolled up out of nowhere, there was no way that we could’ve stopped it--” 

“--Innocent people died tonight. If they were out for the prince, or maybe they weren’t, why so much collateral damage?” 

“Obviously they don’t care.” 

“Bastards.” Jeongin took the last bits of water to slug. “We’re gonna fucking find out why they did all of this.” 

Two shifted in his seat, “Any word? Hate to mention it, but I’m getting kinda tired. It’s past three already.”  

“Fox?” 

He clicked around, then shook his head. “Still nothing.” 

Chan snorted a bit in his sleep: an action which woke him up. 

“Wha-what? Where are we? Are the there yet? What time is it? Fuck...my head feels like it’s splitting...” 

“We’re finding somewhere, your Highness. We’ll be there soon.” Your partner motioned for you to hand him another water to give to the disorientated prince. 

Chan nodded while he rubbed his temples. “Shit. Please tell me that I just made this all up. That it’s some kind of fucked up nightmare...” 

You threw Chan’s coat back to him. “Unfortunately, no. We’re trying to figure out everything that we can.” 

“Who the hell were those guys?” Water dripped down his neck in a way that you pretended not to notice. “They were wearing crests. I couldn’t tell, but weren’t they red?” 

“Very observant, your Highness. F?” 

The younger man bit his lip, “I’ve already tried finding where the crest is from, but I can’t find anything that resembles it within our database. I was able to see one up close. It looked like a heart or something like that, and a diamond. I’m guessing that it could’ve been maybe a spade? Like the kind that you see on playing cards? Still, since we’ve never seen it before, we can only assume that they must be a new group.” 

Chan nodded, but anyone could tell that the information had flown right over his head. He licked at his wet lips, then sighed. 

“Bee, You okay? Fox? I suppose that I should ask you both.” 

“I’m...fine.” His sudden concern came as a surprise, and your partner looked just as shocked. 

“I-I’m fine too. No holes in me or anything.” Jeongin suppressed a laugh. “But you’re not, your Highness. How much did you have to drink?” 

“Oh...enough. I guess that I lost track at some point. Those kind of things are boring anyway.” 

“Fox? You’ve got that locale?” Two clicked the turn signal. 

“Oh! Yeah, I’ve got one. Sorry, It’s about an hour from here.” 

“Locale?” Chan cocked his head. 

“A safe house. Or something like that. We need to lie low while we wait for instructions.” 

“No one has said anything...? Not even...my father?” 

Jeongin shook his head gravely. “No.” 

The young prince fell silent, and you watched as worry fell over his clouded eyes that were lined with bags. Normally his expression was anything but strained, but in this moment, you saw doubt sweep over him like the darkness on the road ahead. You leaned the farthest you could from your seat to grab at his hand behind you. 

“You’re safe with us. Nothing is going to happen to you.” 

His hand was warm, maybe a little clammy, but it was soft, like that of a prince, naturally. Still, it was strong and veined. Chan’s thumb rubbed soft little circles into your own skin, muttering, “Thank you.” For once, his eyes which would normally devour you like some kind of rare dish held you earnestly. I trust you, they said. 

“Two. Let’s switch.” Jeongin slammed his laptop closed. “I’ve got it from here.” 

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

The safe house was quiet. As most of them where. It was even a bit stereotypical: a little cottage in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by woods on nearly all sides. It had a little overgrown garden, and a shed that looked like it held either all kinds of gardening equipment, or the real thing that sheds were meant for in your business: ammo. It had a white painted porch with cracking paint, as well as porch swing with rusting chains. In the early morning the windows were are black, but still faintly reflected the massive array of sparking stars above your heads. The only thing less antique about the home was the touch keypad on the front door. It beeped with a little tune, then flashed the insignia of the agency: a ticking clock. 

“Two, can you find a generator or something? Get the electricity up and going?” 

“Can do,” He said, then disappeared. 

Two was mostly a quiet man, a feature that gave you both reasons to trust him and to be suspicious. Besides him being a bit smaller in stature with thin legs and characteristically round cheeks, there was something different about him that you couldn’t place; something unexpected. You wished once again that questions weren’t on the list of things that weren’t allowed. 

“There should be clothes around here somewhere.” Jeongin padded his way through the dark rooms. “You shower first your Highness.” 

Chan tripped over his feet as he spread out his arms to find his way. You giggled lightly at the action. A man really was stripped down of any and all sense of composure when his life had been threatened and he had to have his bodyguards pat his back while he had gotten sick after one too many royal drinks. 

The lights flashed on, flickering at first with the sound of the lightbulbs waking up after a long sleep. The interior design of the place was exactly as you had expected: it was a family home with a fireplace and several chairs and couches covered in dust. Bookshelves were full with the strangest assortment of reading material and board games there held a thin layer of grey dust too. The kitchen was small and cozy: it had all the necessities. A stained glass chandelier hung over the wooden table for eight, and was decorated with glass hummingbirds and pink flowers. In odd corners of the house, children’s toys had been sitting untouched. A family must’ve been living there, and you wondered what must’ve become of them. 

Two returned with spiderwebs caught on his dress coat. “Water should be hot in about thirty minutes or so I think.” 

Your partner crossed the room, raking a hand through his snowy white hair. “I’m gonna try and make the calls again. See if I get anything. If not, we’ll have to...begin Operation Cheshire.” 

It was the phrase that you had hoped neither you nor your partner would have to say. 

Chan slumped down in one of the upholstered chairs, throwing dust into the air as he did. Compared to the rest of the room, him and his designer clothes seemed comically out of place. “Wha-what’s that?” 

Two pinched between his eyes, and your chest shook with an unsure inhale. 

“It means that we assume the worst. HQ got taken over and we’re all at risk. Information about us could be accessible to anyone. Essentially, we go into sleeper mode until we can reconvene with other agents...if there are any more. We dissapear. Next, we work on getting you back home, no matter what it takes.” 

“HQ?” What are you talking about?” Chan toyed with his diamond set cufflinks. “HQ? Like whoever manages the bodyguards??” 

“Your Highness...” You and your partner exchanged knowing glances. “We’re more than bodyguards.” 

“What?!” 

“We’re operatives. Agents. We work for an intelligence agency that specializes in a bunch of different things...protecting royalty if needed.” 

“What the fuck?! Why didn’t anyone tell me? Chan slapped his leg. “Fuck! No one tells me anything!!! I get that I’m a fucking prince but I’m not fucking useless!” 

The memory of the confidential file reemerged in your memory: the promise that you had made to His Majesty The King after he had requested a “special hire” to watch over his son. The file itself had contained a several thousand words or so that you hadn’t bothered to read, but rather skimmed till you got to the signature part. Carroll had simply nodded before you put your pen to the paper. 

“It was for your saf--” 

“--My father did this, didn’t he? Didn’t he? Some kind of sick way to keep tabs on me? See what I’m doing?? God! The man never trusts me. If the thinks that I’m that much of a disappointment...this is just--” 

“Your Highness, it’s been a long day, you’ve been through a lot, just take a shower and get some rest. Alright? We’ll talk more about this in the morning.” Two stepped forward with his hands folded in front of him. His interjection was unlike his previously quiet presence. 

The prince sighed, tapping his tragically expensive shoe on the hardwood. 

“Fine. We’ll talk about it in the morning.” 

Chan’s eyes grew dark with an authoritative air that you had seen before. His façade had slipped over him like a cloak. He rose, buttoning his jacket, then tweaking his sliver brooches decorating his neck. 

“Fox. Bee. Two. Thank you. Good evening.” 

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

Chan knew that it was you at the door when you would knock two times, then pause, and knock twice more. In your hands, you held a cup of warm milk. For a prince, even he couldn’t reject the beverage to help him fall asleep at night. You had seen him order it at hotels on more than one occasion. Jeongin had found a nearby store to get food for the morning. The two of you had suddenly found yourselves as now both his bodyguards and his servants. While you waited, you hoped to God that Carroll would compensate you for the extra work. 

The door creaked open, revealing your prince modestly dressed in plaid flannel, hair dripping slightly in wet strands. You had never seen him as simple as this before: no princely persona or cold exterior to upkeep. He looked...normal. 

“What is it Bee?” 

“I thought you might like some...well, this.” You provided him with the cup. “I know that it’s nearly morning, but you should still try to sleep in. We’ll take care of things. 

He took the ceramic mug from your hands, fingers barely brushing against yours for mere moments. 

“Thank you.” He hushed with a thankful smile. “Would you like to come in? We could...just kind of...sit for a minute.” 

Behind him, sun peaked at the horizon, a splitting of red piercing the navy deep of the night. The colors muddled, blurred, a bit like the color of blood fading into the deep fabric of one’s formal wear. It was desolate, but still beautiful. 

“To be honest,” His eyes fell, “I don’t want to be alone right now.” 

You had saved the biggest room for him. It smelled of mothballs and other old things like sheets that had rested in a dark room for much too long. Still, there was a kind of familiarity to it all and the way that the matted rugs and brass vintage lamps lit the room with a soft yellow light. The full sized bed creaked once you had sat down. In his golden halo, Chan’s brown strands appeared to be softer, and not as prim and staged. 

“I’m sorry for snapping earlier. I realized that there are things that are out of my control. You know more than I do, and I accept that. I trust you...a-and Fox.” 

You rubbed your hands into the jeans you had found in the cupboard. They had dirt and grass stains from work in the garden you presumed. 

“It’s okay. I understand that you would be scared. It’s okay to be. I...get scared sometimes too. I know that it might look like it, but I fear...for my life too. So does Jeong--Fox.” 

Chan’s voice cracked. “Is someone out to kill me?” 

You sighed, sensing his hesitation. “I don’t know. But we will know soon.” 

The prince stared down at the white bubbles in his milk, then swirled around the liquid to watch the way that that it moved. 

“I don’t think I’d like to die. Would be pretty unfortunate, don’t you think? I feel like I’ve got so many other things to do. A kingdom to manage, people to govern, much more bottles of Scotch to drink, parties to attend...” 

His eyes met yours, and you could see the very fragility of the life that he spoke of right in them. He was right in that dumb speech of his. He really was just a person. 

“...I like to think that I’ll get married someday to someone that I love. I actually would really like to do that.” He chuckled. “Lame, right? Someone like me who always bounces around. Wouldn’t take me for one?” 

“Mm. No. I think that from what I’ve observed of you, and I’m trained to observe, I think that bouncing around...means you’re looking for the right thing. And, I guess that it’s fun too.” 

Chan chuckled, “You’re good at observing.” 

You paused, remembering Lee Minho from earlier. 

“Were you looking when you were talking to that man at the banquet? He was very handsome.” 

The prince placed the cup down. “He was. I don’t know. He just seemed kind of interesting. The kind of mystery that only a stranger has. I would’ve liked to have talked to him more now that I think about it. Maybe it would’ve been worth my time.” Chan twisted his back to crack it. “I don’t know if you saw but he had some really nice fucking thighs.” 

“Ahhh. Nice thighs. Didn’t know that you cared for that.” 

The two of you laughed together a bit like old friends. It felt nice. 

“...Bee. I should also probably apologize for how I acted back before we got in the car. I was...drunk, scared. I said some things--” 

“--That you were in love with me?” 

“Yeah...that. I realized that...I’ve been...unfair to you. You don’t deserve the ridicule. You’ve only ever been helpful to me and--” 

“--Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.” You shrugged. You had met hundreds of guys like him before, at least you thought. 

Chan sighed as if he was gathering himself. “Bee. I did mean what I said.” 

“What? Ch-your Highness, you don’t mean that.” 

He laughed, “It’s alright. You can call me Chan. And...yes. I did. You’ve got a kind of mystery to you too. Frankly, I can’t stop thinking about it.” 

“This...this is inappropriate.” You shifted, the rising off the bed. Your cheeks warmed, but you couldn’t know why. Maybe he was just too damn charming. But, he was like that with everyone. 

He rose too, hastily following you on your way to the door. “Bee, wait.” 

“Chan, you can’t do this. It makes things...complicated.” 

He advanced, slowly, closing the space between you. “It’s only complicated if you feel the same.” 

“I-I don’t.” 

The prince’s hand carefully rose to cup your face, a gesture so gentle that you shied from the feeling. Even this close still he smelled of white roses. 

“Have you ever heard of conflict of interest?” Your breath hitched. 

Chan grinned, “There you go making this complicated again.” 

A wandering hand of yours acting on its own reached to tug hold of his shirt. 

The prince leaned in closer, nearly close enough to breech the gap between his plush lips and yours. 

“What if I don’t mind making things...” He whispered the word, grazing his mouth over yours, “...complicated?” 

“Ch--” 

He pressed his weight fully into you, a smashing of lips met with incessant heat and your back shoved into the door. His tongue easily twisted around yours, and his soft gasps filled up your mouth. It had taken you a couple seconds to realize what had happened, and to decide what to do with yourself. His mouth was blazing, it was as if he was weaving a spell, or perhaps you had made it up for yourself. He kissed you with vitality; like he had never tasted anything like you before and was starving for you. You realized, perhaps you had wondered what it would’ve felt like. One hand squeezed tighter to his shirt, and you kissed back, meeting his heat. 

Jeongin’s voice called down the hall, “Bee? Bee, are you there?” The sound of your bedroom door shut. 

You pushed Chan off you with flat hands on his chest and an amazed smile on his face. 

“This...this doesn’t mean anything.” You gasped, reaching for the knob after a moments pause. 

Chan snickered, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“Goodnight your Highness.” 

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

For a man so young Jeongin liked his coffee black, and drank it like an old man too with his nose buried in a newspaper while it fogged up his glasses--or what was left of them. 

“I finally got correspondence from Carroll this morning. She said that HQ experienced some kind of blackout and all the systems went offline. It wasn’t safe for her to contact us on a regular line. They got everything back up and running and everything seems fine, or so they think.” 

Your partner had already made himself comfortable in a pair of sweatpants and a cotton tee with slippers. You never would’ve guessed that he was a trained assassin on the side. 

Two returned huffing in the door from his morning run. He was one of those people. 

“Any word?” He rubbed his face off with a dishtowel. 

“Disgusting.” You sneered at the crude action. 

“Well, we’ve got thousands of miles between us and the kingdom and what seems like a hell of a lot of guys on our tail, but, after I sent Carroll the info about the red crest, she wants us to do some digging. 

“With the prince in tow?” You lowered your voice lest the sleeping royal heard you. “I don’t think so.” 

“It sounds like she’s convinced that the person behind all of this could be someone who attended the charity ball. And, I don’t really disagree. They must be good at keeping secrets if they evaded us.” 

“Hm. You’re right. A high profile event like that, even though its for a good cause it’s always a competition with those snobs. I just don’t know who could order something so cruel...all those people in the same place...” 

“Since it’s a new group, they must still be underground. So, to see who lives underground, you’ve got to go there yourself to find out. Or, in our case, find someone who knows the rabbit hole.” 

Two grabbed a chair, ruffling his deep brown soaked hair. “What does that mean?” 

Jeongin flipped his laptop around. “This is the man that we need to go see. Codename White Rabbit. Or as he calls himself--” 

“--Bun.” You cut in. “Yeah, I know him.” 

Both of the men chimed, “You do?” 

“Yeah, he’s undercover ops for the agency. He’s sort of a jack of all trades. He owns some kind of front out in Egypt. It’s called The Tea Party. Bar up front, but in the back he provides all kinds of information--for both sides. His cut is that for any information he gives to the agency he gets cash compensation. If anyone would know about anything underground, it would be him. As I’m sure Carroll told you, he’s a stickler for meeting in person. He’s one of us. I think.” 

“You think?” 

“He also does...other deviant things. I heard that these days he’s had a couple dealings in some...substances. Black market stuff. Carroll also provides safety for his business in return for his information.” 

“That...sounds illegal. Immoral even.” Jeongin’s eyes widened upon hearing the news about his mother. 

“You’ve got to pay to play you know.” 

“So Egypt then?” Two wiped off the back of his neck with the dishtowel, stretching out one of his toned arms. “I’ve always wanted to go there.” 

“Oh--one more thing.” Jeongin took a rather long sip from his cup. “The King’s counsel reached out to me too this morning. They asked me if the Prince was safe and where we were. I have them loose details of both. They seemed somewhat relieved.” 

Chan sauntered down the steps with a massive yawn, stretching up his arms and shirt to reveal an inkling of his abs. You also pretended not to notice it. 

“Gooood morning everyone. Fox. Two.” He dished out a wink. “Bee.” 

“Morning your Highness.” Jeongin nodded, and crossed his legs. “Feeling well?” 

“Ahhh much better.” He poured himself a cup of coffee in the kitchen, staring out the little window over the sink, then took an indulgent sip. “It’s peaceful here. I kind of like that.” 

“Your Highness, we’ve received word--” 

Chan rose his hand to shush your partner, then languidly took another sip. “I’m still enjoying my drink F.” 

A light buzzing resonated somewhere in the house, a bit like the sound of a dryer, and the home started vibrating. Your water glass on the table rippled. 

“Two, did you notice if there was anything strange about the house?” 

The buzzing grew nearer. 

Two looked puzzled, “No, why?” 

The vibrating grew more violent, and your glass shuddered off the wooden table, shattering on the ground upon impact. 

Chan squinted out the window, “Is that a--” 

“CHAN GET DOWN!” You shrieked. 

Within milliseconds the whistling of a bomb screeched through the air, then crashed into the rickety ceiling, splintering wood everywhere and demolishing the furniture. 

You had seconds to act while the matte black bomb hissed with a steam releasing from some seam and ticked. You sprinted to grab Chan’s arm as hard as you possibly good, all in a blur, pummeling your bodies against one of the shattered windows, and hurling yourself out to the morning dew. You had no time to see if Jeongin or Two had made their exit, but looked out, towing the prince so hard you must’ve done some damage to his shoulder. You stumbled to your feet, tripping, and grunting until the bomb diffused, and exploded the cottage altogether. You covered Chan’s head and most of his body with your own as a shield and the shards of wood, metal, and brick came flying. 

“Ar-are you okay?” You patted the prince down in his shock, who stared blankly with empty eyes. 

The prince’s flannel had been torn to shreds with glass, and blood oozed onto the fabric on his arms. 

“Yeah...yeah...I’m...fine.” 

“BEE! Y/N!” Jeongin screamed over the flames to find you. 

“OVER HERE!” You bellowed back, and your partner came running with Two behind him with terrible cuts on his face. 

“They knew. They FUCKING knew.” He panted after reaching you. 

“We have to get out of here.” Two gasped, and blood ran down his face, nearly into his eye. “If they know where we are now, they’ll come to check to see if the damage is done. We have to move.”  

The sky filled with an angry smoke, and the once peaceful forest filled with the colors of orange and red. 

“The car?” 

“Broken windows from the blast but I should be able to get it going. There’s spare parts in the shed. And ammo. A fuck ton of it.” 

“We’ll need it.” 

You pulled the prince to his feet as he blinked wildly at you and your team. 

“Fuck.” Was all the could manage. 

In your complete surprise, Chan’s bloodied and cracked hands pulled your face into his, kissing you with lips that tasted of the salt of blood. 

“I fucking love you Bee. I’ve decided.” 

Jeongin’s jaw dropped in the corner of your eye, so you promptly slapped the prince upside the face. 

“You’re in shock. We need to get out of here.” 

A wrinkled smile danced on the royal’s face, and you might’ve thought that it was a bit charming. 

“Admit it. You love me too Bee.” 

~🌹~ 

Bunch of (Ro)ses! 

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @eunaeiekim @julesinthesoop

[teddy06writes]

Greek Myth Series: Eros and Psyche Part One

Eret x afab! reader

trigger warnings: yelling, mentions of pregnancy

premise: so the story of Eros and Psyche is kinda complicated, and no that many people know it, if you want to find out about it in a different context you can here or if you want to go into this blind, go ahead.

list of Greek Gods/characters for this work

Eros- Eret

Aphrodite- Puffy

Zephyrus- Philza

Zeus- Dream

Pan- Tubbo

{I tried to keep this gender neutral, but in the myth Psyche does end up pregnant, and its kind of a big plot point, I'm sorry.}

{also I forgot how long this story is, so I'm going to split it in two, on one hand so that I don't leave yall without content, and two because it'll be easier for me that way}

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There was a city state, long ago, near the sea, that was known for its beautiful royal family. The eldest daughters of the king had been considered the most beautiful in all of the land, until the youngest child, (y/n), came of age.

It is said that their beauty surpassed that of everyone in the kingdom, and where ever they went the people flocked, eager to earn their favor.

(y/n) knew of their beauty, but they did not look upon themself in vain, but they did know that this beauty caused jealousy among many, especially their sisters.

What they did not expect of this, was when the people of their kingdom began to worship them, as if they were the goddess of beauty, Puffy herself.

Now this was never something that (y/n) wanted, all they had wanted was to live a normal life, but now they had to stay shut up in their chambers, trying to ignore the cries from outside.

They were admired by all, yet wanted by none.

And as Puffy grew jealous, and planned with Eret to exact her revenge, (y/n)'s father sought help from the good oracle of Delphi, what was he to do if everyone in the land loved their looks, but no one wanted their hand in marriage.

As the months passed, and their chambers seemed to become even more like a prison and their sisters married other monarchs, (y/n) began to loath their beauty, wishing there was some way to be rid of it.

Having returned from his journey to Delphi, the king entered their chambers, "My child," Said he, "I have sought an answer, and answer, the oracle has given."

"And what answer is that?" (y/n) asked.

"In three days time we will hold your wedding," He took a shaky breath, "You are to be wedded to a dreadful monster, and in three days time, we will take you to the rock spire, at the edge of our kingdom, and leave you to him."

A gasp rippled through (y/n)'s throat, and they fell to their knees, "Father please don't leave me to die!"

He shook his head, "It is already done."

The three days passed in quick succession, and soon, (y/n) found themselves being led through the kingdom, dressed in a blackened wedding gown.

As their parents wept, they held their head high, having resigned to their fate.

Upon reaching the top of the spire, their family tearfully departed, leaving (y/n), wind whipping through their hair, dreadfully alone. Slowly, they inched closer to the edge, staring down to the rocky shore from which the pillar had grown.

A partially strong gust of wind caught them in the back, unexpected, and as they toppled over the side a scream ripped through their throat.

It took them a moment to realize that they had not made impact with the ground, that rather, they were floating, flying, being carried across the lands.

"Fear not," A disembodied voice assured them, "I am Philza, the west wind. No harm shall come to you."

(y/n) remained terrified until they were at last gently set upon the soft grass of a meadow.

"Go now, explore your new home." Philza urged.

Slowly, (y/n) moved forward, gaping as a huge villa came into view at the other end of the valley. As they drew further up the path, more disembodied voices greeted them.

"What is this place?" They asked softly, looking around in amazement.

"Why do you wonder so much of this finery? It is your own, do go inside, and rest and bath, and then there shall be a great feast." A soft, breezy voice returned.

Hesitantly, they did, enjoying a fresh bath, and much food and entertainment, but slowly, as night began to fall, the gayety died away, and they were urged to get ready for bed.

Having changed into night clothes, and climbed into bed, the lights were dimed by unseen servants, and they were told, "Rest now dear, your husband shall arrive soon."

"My husband?" They asked, confused, but there came no answer.

They laid awake, anxiously, until footsteps sounded on the floor.

"Who are you?" They demanded.

There was a soft chuckle, "Worry not, sweet (y/n), I am not here to hurt you. A husband should never have such intentions with his betrothed."

"Who are you?" They asked again, shuffling away as a weight settled on the other side of the bed.

"Your wife," she repeated, "I must admit, I didn't think of the consequence you might have faced upon hearing that dreadful fake of a prophecy. My dear, I am sorry, but could find no other way to take you away from the prying eyes of some."

Slowly, he retold the story, of how he had fallen in love with them, for the way that they had carried their burden, and when she had heard the plans of many, that they had to get them away.

"Alas, my sweet, you may not know my name, nor may you ever be permitted to see me, for it might tear us apart. For that, I am sorry."

There was a note of sadness in his voice, enough to tug at something in (y/n)s chest.

~~

He had away-ed at dawn, long before (y/n) awoke, leaving them to their thoughts of what had happened that night.

The following days seemed to follow the same pattern, until soon a week had passed, and then the weeks began to blend into months.

Back in the kingdom, in which (y/n) had lived, word had reached their sisters of what had happened, and each day they began to gather at the spire, calling for them, wishing they hadn't disappeared.

But, their husband warned them, that even though (y/n) could hear there voices, they must never call back, and the sisters may never be allowed into the valley.

For some time, (y/n) worked to comply, but hearing the despair in their sisters voice wore them down slowly, to the point where even when they were remind of how cruel the women could be, they did not care, and only wanted to see them again.

It got to a point, where one day, after their husband had left, they slowly crept from the villa, and dashing across the valley, called to Philza, begging him to take their sisters to the valley.

"Are you sure, (y/n)?" He asked.

"Yes, please, I'd do anything to see them again!" They begged.

Reluctantly, Philza's winds carried the sisters to the valley, where (y/n) embraced them, "My sisters! Don't weep! I'm safe!"

They hugged them back just as tightly, before letting go and looking around at the valley, and the villa.

"You live here?" The eldest asked.

"Yes, it is my husbands villa." They replied with a smile, "Come, I'll give you the tour, and then we may walk the gardens."

As the siblings moved from room to room, and (y/n) gave their tour, the sisters became increasingly jealous.

They had been married to old men, hardly holding onto their titles as king, why should their little sibling get all of this?

Soon, they were seated in the garden, nibbling on the food the servants had prepared.

"You certainly live in luxury (y/n)." The middle sister remarked.

They nodded, "Yes, I suppose I do."

"How does your husband afford all this? What does he do?" The elder asked.

"Well..." They trailed off, thinking, "I'm not sure."

"You mean you don't know?"

Slowly, (y/n) explained what had happened, and their husbands conditions of never being seen.

"Oh (y/n), honey," she pulled a sympathetic face, "He's clearly hiding something from you, and such a shame, you being pregnant with his child."

They glanced down at their stomach, they weren't showing that much, were they?

"It might turn out to be a monster, for all you know. You've never even seen him."

"No! He's not a monster!" They insited.

The sisters continued to build up the idea of their husband lying, or disguising himself, both in a subtle agreement to ruin everything (y/n) had.

"he's not!"

Frowning, one sister leaned forward and patted her hand, "Maybe, but you don't know. Just to be sure, when he has gone to sleep tonight, light a lantern, and look at him, just to be sure."

"I think you should go." (y/n)s voice was hard, and soon Philza was returning them to the kingdom from which they had came.

Night returned, and along with it, their husband.

She had fallen quickly to sleep, though (y/n) lay awake, their sisters voices filling their mind.

What if they were married to a monster?

Slowly, shakily, they rose, and finding a lamp, carefully lit it, before turning to their wife's side of the bed.

In the flickering lantern light, (y/n) beheld their husband for the first time, dark brown hair falling in curls about their head, and large feathered flings pooling at her back.

They gasped in amazement, turning to find a set of quiver and arrows at the foot of the bed, suddenly it made sense. The bow, the inhuman beauty- they had wed the god of desire, Eret.

Some how, all at once, they fell in love, toppling over the metaphorical cliff they had stood near for sometime, as the lamp suddenly felt to heavy for their hands.

Shaking, they moved to set it down, but not before a drop of oil spilled, landing on the gods shoulder.

In a cry of pain, she awoke, and looked up at (y/n) with wide eyes.

Without another word, they stood, gathered their things and began to leave, as they had come flying through the open windows.

"No! Please don't leave! I love you!" (y/n) cried, seizing his arm.

"You fool!" He roared, dragging them along with her, "I risked everything! I went I against mine own mother! She told me to punish you! and yet I fell in love! I created all this! All of this just to get you away from her prying eyes!

"Now the magic is fading you poor poor fool! She will find you now! You won't have much time! You- you listened to your sisters didn't you! They wanted this! I told you to not listen to them! You lie! Regard me as some beast to peak on in the night!" At last they shook (y/n) off, and they went tumbling to the ground.

"No love can exist with out trust."

With that they flew away, leaving (y/n)s cries for her to stay. And Leaving (y/n) alone, so terribly alone.

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Tag list: (send a request to be added, it will only be for this series)

@dreamslittlebitch

[jilyss]

Sure, yeah, I can accompany you to that black tie event for your work tonight. Wait. Why are we on a red carpet? Are you famous?

thanks for the prompt!! i tried to keep it under 2k but that clearly did not happen lol 

read on ao3

James Potter to Lily Evans at 3:14 p.m.: hey can u call when u get a sec

Lily Evans to James Potter at 3:18 p.m.: sry i was with a pt, what’s up

James Potter to Lily Evans at 3:19 p.m.: i have a favor to ask

It was 3 p.m. on a Friday and Lily Evans was just barely sitting down to eat lunch. She’d sat down in the empty breakroom, kicked up her legs onto a nearby chair, and just barely bit into her sandwich when she had seen James’ text. She replied a few minutes later, too hungry to type anything coherent.

When he called a minute later, her mouth was full of food. She swallowed quickly and pressed the accept button. “Hello?”

“Hey Evans,” he said, and Lily smiled at the sound of his voice. It had been a few months since she’d talked to him. She wished they lived closer, but she had just finished her residency in Manchester and he played football for Arsenal in London, and they were both so busy they didn’t have the chance to get together often. But they were the kind of friends who were able to pick up exactly where they’d left off every time they caught up, and Lily had missed him.

“I saw your game against Southampton last week.” Lily popped a crisp in her mouth. “Nice goal.”

She could practically hear his smirk through the phone. “Watched me, did you?”

“Remember that guy I told you about? The one I was talking to?” James hummed in agreement. “We went out for a drink and the game was on. I try to catch most of your games, but my schedule is a little - .”

“- Crazy, I know,” James laughed. “Are you still with him?”

Lily shifted the phone to her other ear. “No, we kind of just stopped talking.” She didn’t want to tell him that the real reason she had stopped talking to him was that before he found out that Lily knew him, he’d spent several minutes badmouthing James. Once he was finished, Lily gave him a quick rundown of the various ways he was an asshole, and then promptly left. She wasn’t a big fan of him anyway, and that had kind of sealed the deal. 

“Well, good - I mean, so sorry about the bloke, Evans - but I have a problem.”

Lily waited for him to continue, and he didn’t make her wait long. “There’s this event for work. Sirius is out of town, and I would ask my mum, but she went to the last one and just isn’t up for another late night yet, so if you aren’t busy, and I mean, only if you want to -”

Lily interrupted, laughing. “What do you need, James?”

“There’s this black-tie event I have to go to. It’s not a big deal, and we wouldn’t have to do anything. Would you want to go with me?”

Her eyebrows raised and she was a little surprised. “When is it?”

“Two weeks. It’s a Saturday.”

Lily pulled her phone from her ear and tapped on her calendar icon. She had that Saturday, Sunday, and Monday off. She considered her options, but there was really only one. Of course, she wanted to see him because it had been months, and she was never one to say no. She would just need to go shopping sometime before then. “Ok, sure.”

“Really? Brilliant, thanks, Evans.”

They chatted for a few more minutes until Lily’s lunch break was over, and she had to rush off to her next appointment. She sent a quick text to Marlene asking for her help with dress shopping, packed up her lunch and left the breakroom. 

James Potter to Lily Evans: hey, mum got wind of you coming down to london and would luv to see u

Lily Evans to James Potter: EUPHEMIA

Lily Evans to James Potter: of course!!!

Lily Evans to James Potter: i could come down a few hours early

James Potter to Lily Evans: actually do u wanna stay the night? we prob won’t be done until late and it’s a long trip back

Lily didn’t hesitate. 

Lily Evans to James Potter: yeah! I love ur mum and it’s been way too long

James Potter to Lily Evans: sweet, ill see you in a few days x

  Lily closed the door to her apartment, locking the door behind her. She made her way down the stairs and out to her car, carefully hanging her dress on a hook in the back seat. She’d originally planned on just taking the train down, but it would be faster to drive, and she didn’t want to worry about keeping her dress wrinkle-free on the train. 

When she arrived at the Potter’s house (though it was more like a mansion) a few hours later, a wave of nostalgia hit her. Lily and James had become friends at uni, and their friend group often went to the nearby Potter’s house for a home-cooked dinner. Lily had especially become close with Euphemia, James’ mother, and used to go over even when James wasn’t there. 

She pulled into the large driveway and parked the car before grabbing her bag from the backseat. Before she could even get to the door, Euphemia swung the door open and pulled her into a tight hug. “Lily, dear, it’s been too long!” 

Lily dropped her bag and hugged her back, excited to be back. “I’ve missed you, Euphemia!” Over Euphemia’s shoulder, she saw James running down the stairs towards them. Lily swallowed hard as she saw him. He was somehow even taller than the last time she had seen him, and football had definitely been good to him. Normally, he lived in a flat closer to his training facility but had returned to his mum’s house for the night.

As James approached, Euphemia let go of her and James immediately grabbed her into a hug. “Alright, Evans?”

Lily grinned into his shoulder, feeling his arms wrapping all the way around her. She squeezed him extra tight once before pulling away, then put one arm over Euphemia’s shoulders. “I’m doing good!” She glanced over her shoulder at her car. “I’m not sure when we have to leave, but I left my dress in the car, should I…”

“I’ll grab it.” James stuck out his hand and Lily handed him the keys. He was out the door in a second, and Euphemia steered Lily into the kitchen. 

��Congratulations on finishing your residency, Lily! Or really I should say congratulations, Dr. Evans.” Euphemia winked at her. Lily blushed and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She still wasn’t used to the title, and even though she knew she had fully earned it, it still felt a little unreal.

“Thank you, I’m just glad to be done.” Lily took a seat at the counter, leaning her arms on the counter. Euphemia plopped a pastry in front of Lily, who took a bite without hesitating. She was an excellent cook who was always making something, and on the drive down, Lily had secretly hoped that today would be no different. “This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted. It’s blackberry filling, right?”

Euphemia nodded. “Now that you’ve finished your residency, are you planning to stay in Manchester?”

James walked in and tossed Lily her keys. Lily shrugged, casting her eyes quickly towards James. “I’m not sure. I love Manchester, but I’ve missed London more than I thought.” She took another bite of the pastry, chewing quickly. “I have a job now up there, but I’m not too attached yet.”

“Remus is planning on moving back here,” James cut in. “He just finished his masters, and has a job lined up here already.”

“I wish I got to see him before I left.” Lily glanced down at the counter. “I know I haven’t been able to visit a ton, but hopefully I can now.”

Euphemia patted her hand, eyes twinkling. “We know you were busy with your program, but you could make it up to us by moving back here.”

“Mum! Don’t guilt-trip her.”

Lily laughed and finished off her pastry. “I’d do anything to be closer to your baking, Euphemia.”

“I’ll make your favorite custard tarts every day, Lily.”

“Done.”

James snuck a blackberry pastry behind his mother’s back, holding a finger over lips to Lily. She grinned at him before turning back to Euphemia. “You know, the only reason I agreed to go with James is because I wanted to see you.”

Euphemia clutched her hands over her heart. “I always knew you were my favorite, Lily.”

Lily sent a wide smirk at James, whose mouth was so full of pastry he couldn’t retort back. Euphemia glanced at a clock. “James, what time did you say you were going to be leaving?”

James checked his phone. “The car is coming at six. We’ve got about an hour.”

Lily raised her eyebrows and moved to the sink to wash her sticky fingers. “I need to do my hair.”

“You know who else needs to do their hair?” 

“Mum, for the last time, my hair is fine.” James dodged his mother’s attempt to smooth out the tangles on his head. 

Euphemia turned to Lily, hands on her hips. “Don’t you think he needs a haircut?”

Lily pursed her lips at them, staring at James. “Actually, I think he looks good with that mess. Hides the rest of his face.”

James tried to flip her off just as his mother turned around, saying “Nevermind Lily, you aren’t my favorite”, and was rewarded with a swat from an oven mitt.

She grinned at him and headed back to pick up her bag by the front door. “Can I use your bathroom?”

Euphemia pushed James towards Lily, smiling and muttering something about James’ hair. He grabbed her bag from her and walked up the stairs. “Mum put you in the guest room next to mine. There’s a bathroom in there you can use.”

Once they’d arrived, Lily expected him to disappear into his room until she was ready. Instead, he sat on the carpet next to the bathroom, looking up at her. They started talking, Lily curling her hair as they talked. It was nice catching up with him, and Lily had a hard time concentrating on getting her hair right when she could watch James through the mirror. 

It was a quarter to six when she glanced at her watch and realized he was still wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. “This is a black-tie event, right?”

“Shit, yeah, I’ll be right back.” He jumped up and closed the door behind him. 

Lily put the finishing touches on her makeup - which was relatively simple because any makeup skills she used to have basically had disappeared in the past few years. James had brought up her dress bag, and she unzipped the bag and pulled it out. Luckily, it was still wrinkle-free, and in a few seconds, she had wiggled into it, zipped it up, and slipped on her shoes. 

Somehow, James had made it downstairs before her and was talking quietly with his mum in the kitchen. Lily walked in, heels clicking quietly, and they turned to look at her. 

She heard Euphemia’s quiet gasp and James’s soft ‘woah’. Blushing again, she did a little turn. She was wearing a silver floor-length dress paired with black heels. It was relatively simple, with small straps and a waist that hugged her hips and then dropped straight to the floor. Marlene’s eyes had practically bugged out her head when Lily had tried it on, and judging by the way James was looking at her right now, it was a good choice.

James hugged his mum and made his way to her, holding out his arm. “You don’t clean up too bad, Evans.”

Lily took his arm gratefully. “Oh, this old thing?”

Behind them, Euphemia was insisting on a picture, and Lily put her head on James’ shoulder, smiling for the picture. But Euphemia took a second to get her phone ready, and James tilted his head to whisper in her ear. “You look amazing, Evans.” 

Euphemia, finally ready, held up her camera and Lily didn’t get a chance to respond. She hoped he didn’t notice the goosebumps that had popped up on her arm when he had said that. She snapped the picture, and then, arm in arm, they made their way out the door. 

Lily had been expecting an uber, but instead, it was a small limo with a chauffeur. She gave James an odd look, who just opened her door for her and helped her in. Lily waved goodbye at Euphemia, and the driver took off. 

“So what is this event for, James? I don’t think you ever told me.”

James tugged at his tie. “Uh, just an awards ceremony.”

“An awards ceremony?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Are you getting an award?” The driver slowed to a stop, and Lily could see a long line of cars in front of them.

“Uh, no.”

“Are you just being humble?”

James tugged at his tie again. “No, I’m definitely not getting an award.”

Lily frowned as the driver inched forward again. She could hear some yelling in the distance, and she glanced out front again. “You’re one of the best on the team. Didn’t you say this was some team event?”

“Uh, no, I never said it was a team event.”

Lily glanced out front again and saw a team of photographers running towards the noise. Her heart rate started to pick up. “James.” 

He looked at her, half smiling and half nervous. “Hm?”

The car inched forward again and now Lily could see a red carpet going up a flight of stairs. She looked outside the window and realized exactly where they were in London. As she connected the dots in her head, her eyebrows raised.

She rounded on James. “What’s this event called?”

He had a bit of a smug look on his face as he answered. “The Brit awards.”

“The Brits? As in, famous award show with lots of famous people, the Brits?” Lily hissed. She smacked him on the shoulder with her purse. “Are you’re just telling me this now?”

He winced slightly. “Yes?”

Lily groaned and sat back in her seat. They were only a few cars away from the red carpet, and she could see the crowds of people all around. “You aren’t a musician.”

“No, but they usually invite a few athletes. David and Victoria Beckham are usually here.” He shrugged. “They invited me this year.”

Lily smacked his shoulder again. “I cannot believe you didn’t tell me this. You said it was no big deal.”

“Well, I’m not getting an award or anything, so it’s really not a big deal -” Lily shot him a look and he stopped talking. 

He ran a hand through his hair, tousling his brown locks. “Look, Evans, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I kind of thought you would just figure it out?”

Lily tried to stop herself from smiling, but it was just so James that she had to laugh. He had an ego the size of England, but at the same time, was somehow humble enough to think that getting invited to a giant award show was no big deal. But she didn’t have time to process this new information before their car was at the center of the red carpet, and a man in a suit came to open their door. 

“You alright?” 

Lily took a deep breath and nodded. James slid out first, then held out a hand for Lily as she climbed out of the car. She stood carefully, adjusting her skirt and then, with shaking hands, reached up to fix James’ tie. He grabbed one of her hands and squeezed it. “We can go back if you want. I really should have told you, sorry Evans.”

“I’m a doctor, James. I have no clue how to handle this.”

He squeezed her hand once more. “They’re going to love you. Just follow me, yeah?”

Lily returned his squeeze and turned to look at the flashing lights of the cameras and swarms of people. This was way different from what she had been expecting, but she definitely wasn’t going to leave now. She took another deep breath and turned back to him with a smile. “Do you think Lewis Capaldi is here?”

He grinned, ran a hand through his hair one more time, and led her up the red carpet. 

An assistant led them through the carpet, although James was so charming and charismatic that they didn’t need the help. They smiled for pictures, a few serious ones with James’ hand on her hip, and a few with his arm more casually over her shoulder and her head leaning on his arm. James had a few interviews, which mostly focused on what he was excited to see inside. A few reporters asked who she was, and James introduced her each time as “my friend from uni, Lily Evans.”

They even asked her a few questions, curious about this mysterious girl James Potter had with him. Lily blushed each time, but his steady presence next to her helped her remain calm and collected, but by the time they were inside, she felt even more out of her comfort zone. 

Their assistant led them to their table and then waved goodbye. Their table was so far empty, and since James wasn’t up for any awards, they were towards the back, which let them spy on the stream of celebrities, musicians, and assistants.

Lily was still shaky, and that only increased they watched Stormzy, surrounded by assistants and friends, take a seat at the very front. Normally, Lily wasn’t afraid of new situations, and usually, she thrived in them, but she just hadn’t been prepared for this. James noticed that she was still a little nervous, and as she took a sip of her drink, he put a hand on her bouncing leg. “You alright?”

His hand, warm against the fabric of her dress, only made her more nervous. She smiled at him and internally resolved to enjoy the experience. How often would she get to be in a place like this?

An older couple joined their table a few minutes later. The husband was the manager of James’ team, and James introduced Lily. A few minutes later, they were joined by more people, and Lily and James got pulled into two different conversations, but James’ hand never left her thigh.  

A four-course meal was served as the performances started, and everyone clapped after Mabel performed “Don’t Call Me Up”. There was a crowd by the stage for the cameras, but Lily noticed that not many people seated at the tables were standing up for the performances. James and Lily were seated on the side of their table, and after glancing around, she realized they wouldn’t block anyone’s view. 

When Lizzo took the stage, Lily jumped to her feet, grabbing James’ wrist. “Stand up!” 

He didn’t hear her at first, and she bent at the waist to speak into his ear. “Stand up!” He popped up next to her, putting one arm around her shoulders again, while she wrapped her arm around his waist. They danced like no one was watching, swaying back and forth together, although they certainly got a few odd looks. Lily was laughing at his singing (he knew every word of all of Lizzo’s songs), finding that she had a hard time focusing on the music when he was so tall and warm next to her. They sat down again a few minutes later, but James’s hand stayed in his pockets.

The award show eventually ended, and Lily and James stood outside, waiting for their chauffeur. But there was a long line, and after a few minutes, Lily looked up at James. “Want to get a little ways away and call an uber?”

He immediately nodded and followed her, one hand in his hair. They made their way out of the building, James occasionally getting stopped by someone he knew or when he got recognized. By the time they were out into the night air, it was nearly one am. 

“I’ll call the uber,” James said. He shrugged out of his suit jacket and swung onto Lily’s bare shoulders, and she smiled gratefully. A few taps later, he tucked it into his pocket and pointed down the street. “I said we’d meet them down there. There’s too much traffic back there for them to get through.”

They were quiet for a few minutes as they walked side by side. There were still quite a few people out, but for the most part, they were left alone. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what we were going to.” James kicked out at a loose rock on the sidewalk. “I guess I didn’t think about it.”

Lily pulled his suit jacket a little tighter around her and shrugged. “I had a lot of fun. A little nerve-wracking at first, but I’m definitely not mad you invited me. I just didn’t know you were so famous.”

He frowned. “I’m not famous.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Huh. Then how, exactly, did you get an invitation to the Brit Awards?”

He shot her a smirk. “My thick thighs.”

“James Potter, your mum was right, you need a haircut to humble you.”

A car pulled up next to them and James checked the license plate quickly before opening her door again. “So you agree, I have thick thighs.”

Lily waited for him to climb in before she continued. “You have thick thighs but I’m not sure why that would help you get an invite.”

He shrugged nonchalantly, turning to face her in the backseat. “Raw sex appeal.”

Lily’s eyebrows raised even higher. “Raw sex appeal.”

“Mmhm. Raw sex appeal.” James put his hand over the back of her headrest, causing his shirt to pull tight against his torso. Lily had to pull her eyes from the outline of his muscles, and when she met James’ eyes again, it was clear he had noticed. 

“Well, that can’t be it. You don’t have a single drop of that.”

“That’s not what my mum tells me.”

“Your mum tells you that you have ‘pure sex appeal’?”

“Evans - “ James tried, but Lily had won their little battle of words, and there was nothing he could do. “Alright fine, it was not my sex appeal.”

“Glad we finally agree on that.” 

 Euphemia was in bed when they got home, and Lily and James crept upstairs to change. Lily changed into shorts and a sweatshirt, tossed her hair into a bun, and decided taking off her makeup was a later problem. James beat her downstairs again and was standing in front of the open refrigerator. 

Lily snagged another blackberry pastry, groaning as the sweet taste filled her mouth. James turned around with half of a sandwich in his hand. He walked into the pantry and grabbed some glasses and red wine before moving to sit next to her at the counter. Lily shifted to face him as he pointed to his legs. 

“I wore shorts just so you could see my thick thighs. And raw sex appeal.” Lily glanced down to see a pair of very muscular thighs hidden behind grey shorts. She swallowed hard and bit into her pastry. 

“If you say so.”

There was quiet padding behind them, and Euphemia walked in, wrapped in a bathrobe and hair in curlers. “Oh! I’m so sorry, did we wake you?”

She shook her head, squinting in the kitchen light. “I wanted to ask you how it went.”

Lily didn’t hesitate to throw James under the bus. “Your son told me this award ceremony was no big deal.”

“No!” Euphemia gasped. “You didn’t tell her it was the Brits?”

James shrunk slightly under his mother’s glare. “I may have forgotten to mention it.”

“And he told me he has raw sex appeal.”

“Is that so?” Euphemia turned to James, hands on her hips, but the laughter in her eyes made it clear that she was enjoying embarrassing him. James just shot his mother a winning smile, and Euphemia turned to Lily. “Did he treat you right?”

“Oh yes, a perfect gentleman.” But just as she said this, James' hand crept back onto her bare thigh, his thumb rubbing light circles under the table. Lily’s stomach flip-flopped.

Euphemia winked at them and pointed to the kitchen. “Help yourself to anything in the kitchen, dearie. James, stay out of the ice cream, I’m saving it for tomorrow.”

James kissed her on the cheek as she left, then grabbed the wine and glasses. “You want to go outside?”

Lily grinned and moved to grab some blankets from the living room. James was bent over the firepit on the back patio, and in a few seconds, had managed to start a warm fire. She handed him a blanket, scooting her chair close to his and wrapping herself up. He handed her a glass of wine then settled back into his chair. 

“Coming out here was always my favorite thing to do at your house,” Lily said. “It just… it just felt like one big family.”

James fanned his fingers out over the flame. “How long has it been since we were all together? Like three years?”

“Four,” Lily said quietly. “We haven’t all been together since graduation.”

“We’ve come a long way since then.”

“Yeah.” Lily shifted in her seat. Then she asked a question that had been weighing on her mind since he had called her. “Why did you call me?”

She expected him to give her a joking response, but to her surprise, he took a minute to think. “I missed you. It’s been a while.”

“No girlfriend? No pretty famous person who is sliding into your dms?” Her voice was teasing, but it was a genuine question. James had it all - fame, money, talent, looks - why did he ask her to go with him on the red carpet?

He laughed lightly and shook his head. “C’mon Evans, you know that’s not me.”

He was right - Lily couldn’t see him ever actually caring about his fame. It just wasn't him. Sure, he had an ego, but he’d matured so much since freshman year of uni, and Lily had been more than impressed with him on the red carpet. “You handled it so well today. Everyone loves you. ” 

“Everyone loves you, Evans. You had less than thirty seconds notice that you were going on a red carpet and you adjusted in what - ten seconds?”

Lily stayed quiet, taking a sip from her glass. “We’ve grown up a lot since uni, haven’t we?” He didn’t reply, just staring into the fire. Lily continued. “I don’t know if I could have done it tonight if it wasn’t you with me. You just made it easy.”

He shrugged. “I used to go to a lot of events with my mum and dad.”

Lily wanted to reach out and shake him and tell him that no, it was just James that was so charismatic and caring and charming. He didn’t seem to know the effect he had on people - had on her - that made them open up and happy -

And then all of a sudden, Lily realized just exactly what her feelings were. The reason she had a hard time taking her eyes off him or kept having to fight the urge to just hold his hand, and why she suddenly did not want to go back home.

Her eyes flicked at him, tracing the lines of his face and watching the light dance on his hair. James seemed to sense that she was watching him and glanced up at her. She just smiled softly and pulled her blanket tighter, heart pounding.

James downed the last of his drink and stood up, brushing off his pants. “I think I’m going to head to bed.”

Lily was a little surprised at his sudden decision, but felt a yawn coming on and stood up with him. James extinguished the fire, Lily grabbed the wine bottle, and they headed inside. They were mostly quiet, but just before Lily entered her room, she pulled him into a tight hug. “Thanks for tonight. I’m glad you invited me.”

James wrapped his arms around her and Lily could feel her heart rate increase again. He didn’t pull away, but she was worried that he could hear her pounding heart and didn’t linger. She waved goodbye to him, then went into her room. 

The blanket was still hanging on her shoulders, and she buried her nose in it, leaning against the door. She closed her eyes, breathing in deeply. Tonight had not been anything like she had expected, and she was incredibly grateful she had said yes. But there was a problem. She hadn’t anticipated her newfound feelings for James and had no idea how or when they had started. All she knew was that she was going to kick herself for months if she didn’t tell him how she felt. 

But the problem with that was she had no idea if even liked her. But thinking back on the night, Lily hoped the hints he seemed to be dropping really were hints and not just things close friends do. Like the way he had held her hand on the red carpet, the way he kept putting his hand on her thigh, or the way he had looked at her when she’d first come downstairs. 

Lily tilted her head back to rest on the door, gave herself a mental pep talk, threw open the door to her room, and marched across to James’ bedroom. She knocked quietly on the door, and he opened it a few seconds later. 

“What’s up?” he whispered. Lily took a tiny step forward and he stepped back to let her inside. She stood only a few inches away from him, the blanket still wrapped around her. 

“Why did you call me?” her voice was so quiet that she barely even heard it. “You never answered my question.”

“Evans…”

Lily’s mouth twitched upwards. She took a small step forward. “I think you can call me Lily now, James.”

He opened his mouth and then clamped it shut. He seemed to be fighting himself internally, and Lily couldn’t handle it more. She closed the gap between them, standing on her tiptoes and pressing a rough kiss to his mouth. He didn’t respond, and Lily pulled away, feeling her stomach drop. She looked up at him, trying to gauge if she had just made a terrible mistake. 

She was just about to step back, ready to apologize, but his dark eyes flashed and his hands reached out to grip her face and pulled her back. The blanket slid to the ground as Lily wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him down to her, and the warmth of the blanket was lost. One of his hands moved to grip her hip, the other on the small of her back, pulling her against his chest. His warmth replaced the chill as Lily moved one hand to play with his hair. He groaned against her lips as she tugged on it, tilting his head back so that she could press needy kisses along his jawline.

He stepped to the side, pulling her with him towards the bed. The back of her knees hit the edge of the bed, and she immediately sat, grabbing onto the collar of his sweatshirt and pulling him down with her. The rough movement made their noses knock together, and Lily just laughed as James pulled away a little ruefully to rub it. Lily took advantage of the space between them to pull his shirt over his head, and as soon as it was tossed to the side, James dropped back to her, warm fingers trailing up her sides.

 “You think your mum heard us?” Lily was lying under the covers with her head resting on James’ arm, one hand tracing the lines of his stomach. 

“Way to ruin the mood, Evans. I love talking about my mum right after sex.” Lily laughed as he buried his face in a pillow. She reached out to play with a strand of his hair. James pulled his face out of the pillow to look at her. “You weren’t exactly quiet, were you?”

Lily blushed violently as he shifted to kiss her neck again. James had excellent stamina, what could she say? He seemed to know exactly what spots got to her, and it quite possibly had been the best bloody shag of her life.

Not that she would tell him that - she didn’t want his ego getting any bigger. Instead, she shifted onto her elbow, letting the sheet slide down to her waist. She smirked as his eyes slipped downwards and he swallowed hard, letting his hands wander freely. Pulling her hair out of her face, she bent down to pull him in a needy kiss, and that was all the prompting he needed to roll on top of her again. 

 After getting back so late and an active night, they slept in late. Lily woke up first, with James sprawled out on the bed next to her. She watched him for a minute in the soft morning light, then got dressed enough to quietly pad across the hall and back into her room. She showered quickly, scrubbing off last night’s makeup, then dressed in shorts and an oversized shirt. 

The kitchen was empty, but Euphemia had left a note on the counter about waffles in the fridge, and Lily didn’t hesitate to pull a few out. She had just put a few in the microwave when James shuffled in, wrapping his arms around her from the back and burying his head in her neck. He inhaled deeply, and his warm exhale gave Lily goosebumps. “You smell good,” he murmured, shifting some of her wet hair off her neck, giving him unrestricted access. Lily’s head tilted back to rest on his shoulder as his lips trailed up and down, humming softly. 

Lily would have taken him right there and then if Euphemia hadn’t walked in that exact second. She tried to put some distance between her and James, a little embarrassed that she’d caught them like that, but James kept his arms tight around her, laughing. 

“Morning mum,” he said brightly. “What are you up to?”

“Just out for a bit of gardening.” She waved her dirty hands and raised an eyebrow quizically at them. “Jamie dear, do you have something to tell me?”

James rested his chin on Lily’s shoulder and whispered something in her ear. She nodded, tipping her head to the side to see him, a smile breaking out on her face. He smiled too, his thumb rubbing slow circles on her stomach. He looked over at his mother, who was now washing her hands, and said “Mum, I want you to meet Lily Evans, my girlfriend.”

Euphemia gasped and spun on her heel to look at them. “Well, it’s about time!” She reached out and pulled Lily from James’ arms. “Oh! My hands are all wet.” She released Lily from the hug and jumped up and down. “I always hoped you two would get together!”

James grabbed Lily from behind again, pulling her close. Lily shot her an odd look. “You did?”

Euphemia winked at both of them and James groaned. “She loves you too bloody much.”

Lily patted his hands, which had slipped just under the hem of her shirt, consolingly. The microwave finally beeped and she pulled away to grab the plates. Euphemia disappeared back into the garden a few minutes later, and Lily joined James back at the counter. They dove into the food, both starving. 

James slid his hand on her thigh, and she put her hand over his, not wanting to be apart just yet. When they’d finished, he turned to her, one elbow leaning on the counter. “So, Evans, want to stay the night again?”

She pretended to think about it. “I’m sure Euphemia would enjoy my company.”

James pushed his plate away and stood up. Lily turned around to face him, and he stepped forward until Lily’s back hit the counter. He kissed the corners of her mouth, then moving back down to her neck. “No other reason?”

Lily was having a hard time concentrating. “I can’t miss out on the blackberry pastries.”

“Any other reasons?”James sucked slightly at the sweet spot he had discovered last night and Lily’s fingers dug into his shoulder. His free hand fingered the waistband of her shorts, and Lily couldn’t take it anymore. She kissed him, one hand fisting in the hair that she just couldn’t seem to get enough off. Still on the barstool, Lily wrapped her legs around him and he lifted her, kissing her all the while. 

“I can think of one more reason,” she managed to get out as he carried her up the stairs.

James threw open the door to his bedroom, tugging his shirt over his head. “Oh?”

Lily mirrored him, tossing her sweatshirt to the side. “Raw sex appeal.”

James’ eyebrows raised. “Oh yeah? Tell me more?”

Lily didn’t answer, instead just pulling him to the bed and laughing at the devilish look in his eyes. 

[cheri-translates]

[CN] S2 Gavin and MC in Chapter 11 (Part Two)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers from Season 2 🍒

Part one: here

On this cold and damp night, the roads of Loveland City are desolate.

Only one lane of bars in the city centre continues to have a hubbub of voices, and young people sway and shuttle back and forth the street.

Standing at the entrance of a luxury private club, I take a deep breath. According to the information I have, there’s an eye-witness to one of the assassinations here.

Based on the leads, the other party is highly likely to appear at this luxury private club, and could perhaps be an important witness to clear my name as a suspect.

I’ve discussed a few contracts here in the capacity of Nox. As such, the staff nod at me politely, and bring me into the room.

Taking a deep breath, I knock on the door politely.

The moment I open the door, the conversations within the room quieten down in succession.

Eyes sweeping the surroundings, I’m slightly startled. The ceiling light sways and illuminates everything clearly.

This place is even larger than I imagined. The interior decor is extremely luxurious, and even comes off overly spacious.

People of various styles are gathered in different places of the room, which is brimming with an atmosphere of pleasure and merriment. There’s self-absorbed singing, the scent of alcohol and smoke suffusing wantonly in the air. 

Someone sees me entering. Lifting his head, he whistles at me. The man sitting beside him sways his beer lazily.

??: Be careful, that’s Nox from Black Swan. Not everyone dares to toy with her.

While speaking, his eyes flit towards the deepest part of the room, and he arches his brows bemusedly.

??: Officer Gavin, does this count as the police catching an unlucky criminal?

Before I can react to what he means, the other person laughs aloud, holding up the microphone and carrying on the conversation.

??: In that case, Officer Gavin will be wiping us all out tonight~

With this, wanton chortles ring out in the room.

Despite what was said, everyone continues lazing around in their original positions. There is absolutely no fear in their eyes - there’s even a hint of arrogance hidden in them.

Following their gazes, I stare at the end of the room - Gavin’s here too.

Gavin’s wearing a simple black jacket, and is casually leaning against a sofa.

He holds a bottle of wine indifferently, crossing a leg over the other in the shadows, neon lights making his sharp features clear.

Those around him maintain a certain distance, as though showing him a degree of trust, yet unconsciously staying away.

As though not expecting that I’d appear here, he lifts his head to look at me, his gaze bringing with it an icy alienation and lack of familiarity. 

I put on a shocked expression, giving him a nod. Then, I take a deep breath quietly.

Most of the people here are difficult to read, and I can’t give the game away.

Composing myself, I sit on a sofa not far from Gavin.

Seeing me seated, he turns his wrist slightly. The beer bottle shakes, akin to a greeting.

??: Officer Gavin has a wide circle. He even knows someone from Black Swan.

Gavin doesn’t even look at him, bringing the beer to his lips indolently.

Gavin: Do I need to give you a report on who I know?

The man isn’t annoyed at all, and laughs along with others.

??: You should have told us that someone from Black Swan was coming. We bros could have made some preparations.

Gavin: Prepare what? To give her a salute? Anyway, I’m unfamiliar with Nox from Black Swan. The reason for her appearance here has nothing to do with me.

Gavin sways the bottle of beer in his hand, his guarded expression sweeping across my face, faint mockery laced in his tone.

Gavin: I’m not interested in what you’re doing here. You can get out now.

Hearing Gavin’s words, I feign experience as I pick up the bottle of beer in front of me, taking a shallow sip.

MC: I’m looking for someone, and won’t take much of everyone’s time.

I stare directly at the blonde man at a corner of the room.

MC: Old Pi, right? I have some things to ask you.

The man whose name was called doesn’t show any acknowledgement. Gavin snorts.

I turn towards the sound. Gavin isn’t looking at me. His gaze is fixed to the front, light from the screen illuminating the coldness in his eyes.

Gavin: Looking for someone isn’t a problem. But it’s my gathering today. Miss Nox isn’t showing due respect by dampening one’s spirits the moment she enters.

MC: Since it’s Officer Gavin’s gathering, it’s naturally not good to cause too much trouble. Old Pi just needs to answer my questions, and I'd leave immediately.

Gavin: I've never met someone who bosses people around like you.

MC: You have now.

Gavin doesn’t respond, but simply laughs softly. However, the room has quietened down at this point, and everyone seems to be watching the scene before them with rapt attention.

One man sees that things are taking a bad turn, and smiles as he mediates the situation.

Man: Why don’t the two of you have a private chat? After all, the aura of two tycoons is too powerful, and we normal people can’t really handle it.

The others immediately make sounds of agreement.

I nod, shooting Gavin a smile.

MC: Sure, I’m very wiling to speak to Officer Gavin in private.

Gavin looks at me thoughtfully. After a long time, he finally stands up.

Gavin: Everyone, continue.

I follow behind Gavin, leaving the room and entering another. When passing by the window, I take special notice of the building opposite the club--

Within the dark blue glass building, I know that a pair of eyes hidden in the darkness are observing us silently.

Staff: The two of you can talk over here. No one will bother you.

I grin as I watch the staff leave. Once he closes the door, I slump onto the sofa like a deflated rubber ball.

MC: Gavin, how was my performance just now?

I lift my head to look at Gavin. That aura of “strangers beware” has already been kept away. Hearing my question, he smiles.

Gavin: You did very well.

MC: Gavin, how did you confirm that Old Pi was the eye-witness for the third assassination incident?

Gavin: I have my ways. This person is enough to clear you from suspicion.

MC: Did you put in a lot of effort for this?

Gavin: It’s a trivial matter, don’t worry. Now that you’ve cast off suspicion, what follows will be the main task.

On the day I gave my report to STF, Gavin asked for assistance. We decided on a series of connected plans, and today’s performance is just one of them.

As for the others... as I recall them, Gavin stands up.

Gavin: It’s almost time to head back.

I nod, preparing to follow him. However, Gavin suddenly turns his head.

Gavin: Don’t drink anymore.

-

Gavin and I head back to the original room. The moment he steps out of the door, he reverts to his earlier state.

Gavin: Since you’re looking for him, ask him yourself. Whether he’s willing to depends on him.

After saying this, he glances at Old Pi, then sits down indolently, not looking at him again.

Old Pi walks to a bar counter in a quieter area, waving his hand and signalling that I should go over.

Old Pi: Since Officer Gavin has shown you respect, how could I not know what to do?

I walk over to him and sit down, and he starts chattering away endlessly.

Old Pi: I heard that Nox from Black Swan is pretty incredible. I didn’t think she’d be so incredible that even Officer Gavin would be persuaded. Go on, what can I do for you?

MC: Someone said that you witnessed the third Evol assassination incident. I want to ask you about the situation back then.

Old Pi says that he can’t really remember what happened, so MC uses her Evol to read his memories

During the third assassination incident, he was hiding in a corner and witnessed what happened. MC guesses that he didn’t want any trouble, which is why he didn’t bring it up

MC offers him money to be a witness. While Old Pi initially worries about his safety, MC reassures him that Black Swan can protect him. Old Pi writes his desired sum in her hand, and she agrees

Before MC leaves:

I stand up, looking at Gavin who is not far off.

MC: Many thanks to Officer Gavin.

Gavin: A piece of advice for you. Don’t investigate unnecessary matters.

MC: That will depend on the boundaries of “unnecessary”.

Without waiting for his response, I leave the club without even turning my head.

After MC leaves, there’s a small discussion in the club where it’s hinted that Gavin has been looking for an old criminal police officer, whether dead or alive

-

I spend the next few days organising the evidence and actively curating the testimony Old Pi has given to me.

On the day I receive Gavin’s phone call, I'm still combing through the testimony, hoping for it to be absolutely foolproof.

Gavin has arranged to meet me at an unfinished building. Setting down the things on hand, I arrive punctually.

Everything’s proceeding according to our plan.

The unfinished building is empty, and a piercingly cold breeze scatters recklessly. I shiver, and spot Gavin on the roof.

I move closer towards him playfully.

MC: Even if Captain Gavin wanted to protect a spy, he didn’t have to invite her to such a place to talk, right?

But Gavin turns around, staring at me coldly.

Gavin: What did you see in that person’s memories?

His expression is hidden in the afterglow of the setting sun. Together, the abrupt alienation and the cold wind bring me a stinging pain.

MC: Gavin, did something happen?

He doesn’t respond. His gaze seems to tell me that before I give him a reply, he won’t give me any.

MC: ...I saw what happened during an assassination. Old Pi’s an eye-witness of the third assassination incident. I have sufficient proof to show that I wasn’t there at the time. In other words, I have more concrete evidence to prove that I'm not involved in the Evol assassinations.

Gavin frowns, and it seems he hasn’t heard the answer he wanted to hear.

Gavin: That’s all?

MC: Is there anything else?

Gavin doesn’t respond to my question, and grows contemplative.

I can’t help but take a step closer to him. However, he once again puts distance between us without batting an eyelid.

MC: Gavin. Are you hiding another investigation from me, or is there something concealed behind the Evol assassinations? I could help you if you need it.

Gavin: It’s the complete opposite. 

Gavin: The reason why I called you here is to make it clear. Since you’ve cleared your name as a suspect, stay away from this matter. From today onwards, the assassination incidents have nothing to do you with you. Next time, you don’t need to do anything else.

His expression is resolute, as though he wants to push me far away.

MC: No matter what it is, I can help. I don't want you to get involved in danger alone.

Gavin: There’s nothing you can help with.

MC: Why... do you not trust me?

My mouth is agape, and I’m not sure what to say. All I can feel is my eyes stinging from the wind.

When he sees me like this, he sighs. But what he says is still incredibly saddening.

Gavin: I really want to trust you. But I can’t. I promise that everything will be resolved. Sometimes, it’s safest not to know anything.

It’s as though my heart has been wound tight, making it a little difficult for me to breathe.

MC: Are you going to shoulder everything on your own again? I can help you! Why don’t you believe that I can help you!

Gavin turns and walks to the side of the roof, staring into the distance at the dusk of Loveland City.

I follow him, walking to his side, and looking afar off. The dusk of Loveland City is bustling and harmonious. The dirty undercurrents simply surge in places that can’t be seen.

MC: At your side, I won’t face any danger, right?

Gavin turns his head, giving me a prolonged gaze, and is silent for a very long time.

He takes a step backwards quietly, and I turn around to face him incomprehensibly. 

Gavin’s expression is cool. The light casts a distorted shadow on his face.

He reaches out, giving me a light push.

I stop breathing. It’s as though the world has suddenly turned upside down, and the sound of wind at my ear grows even louder.

Gavin: I’m the greatest danger.

The passing wind brings Gavin’s voice to my ear. The loneliness in his voice brings a wave of anguish to my heart.

He stuffs his hand into his pocket in a suppressed and restrained manner, akin to the final gust of cold wind in spring. 

The blood-like dusk is behind Gavin, and it looks as though its drowning him.

I reach out to him. Everything in my view overlaps with the hand which he has hidden in his pocket.

If I were to be just a little closer, I could hold his hand.

Just a little.

Gavin: This is just a warning. Stop investigating.

I struggle to look at Gavin for the last time. But before I have the time to see anything, weightlessness takes over.

All that’s left in the world is the sound of wind.

Many images of Gavin’s face flash across my mind--

When he’s smiling. When he’s calm. When he’s quiet. When he’s tired. When he’s asleep.

One after another, Gavin’s face appears before my eyes, vivid and real.

He’s a normal person too. He experiences pain, gets tired, feels sad, and feels anger.

There’s clearly an easier path right in front of him. There’s light, fresh flowers, and applause.

But he chose a different path. He chose to act cautiously at every step, chose to carefully guard against every dash from the darkness.

He chose to carry the death of the director, the death of Yang Ping, and all the innocent and silent deaths of those in the assassination incident, and perhaps many more people’s silences, by himself.

As compared to light, darkness is always one step ahead. It hibernates, waiting for light to arrive.

He’s determined to find the truth for this group of people. Even if this path is deep and lonely, he’ll continue walking without wavering.

The weightlessness of the descent encases my entire body, and the coldness of the wind stings my skin.

I struggle to keep my eyes open, but can only see the ginkgo pendant fluttering in the wind on the wrist of my outstretched hand.

I suddenly recall that autumn day from a very, very long time ago, when I first saw ginkgo leaves dancing, the entire sky of yellow flying freely in the clear air.

But today, the blood-coloured dusk has entrapped that youth.

He’s all alone, walking towards his conviction, proud and forthright.

I don’t want, neither will I allow, such a Gavin to be alone, fighting this war alone.

The scenery speeds past, and I can’t see the surroundings clearly.

Clenching my fists tightly, I continue looking in Gavin’s direction stubbornly.

But at the last second of my fall, a layer of wind gradually spreads around me, quietly catching me.

This gust of wind gathers at my back, bringing me to the ground gently.

I’m lying in the wind, falling slowly to the ground.

Yes. This is just a warning.

I lift my head towards the roof of the building, and can vaguely see a figure there.

That figure seems to be looking at me too, woeful yet resolute, for a very, very long time.

I close my eyes, standing up quietly.

I walk to a small alley at the side, pretending to be fatigued as I lean against the wall and recall everything that just happened, afraid that I had left something out.

The city lights are unable to reach the depths of this alley. Lifting my head, I seem to see the stars which are covered by the neon lights.

I hope that my performance today was sufficiently realistic, and can allow the plan Gavin had talked to me about that day in STF to proceed.

After all, this is most important, second phase of our plan.

-

Here, there’s a flashback to the meeting Gavin and MC had in STF, where he explains that he’s been investing a “New Year’s Eve Change Incident” that occurred four years ago

That incident involved a majority of Evolvers who staged a riot, and had to be suppressed

Gavin suspects that there’s more to the “New Year’s Eve Change Incident”, because it’s incredibly difficult to find the people related to the incident

During the hospital hostage situation, there was finally a substantial development, but the person is still deciding if Gavin is worth trusting

That person is an old criminal police officer who participated in the “New Year’s Eve Change Incident”, and many people are hunting him down - either to find out the truth, or to silence him

He guesses that this incident is actually a scandal involving STF and those who are on an even higher level

Gavin has been investigating privately, but acknowledges that it’s only a matter of time before someone notices

And here’s a big reveal that I hope I can explain clearly enough: Gavin has already met the old police officer. It happened in the scene from Part One when the random guy in the alley spoke to him. And the reason why the officer even decided to meet Gavin was probably because of what he saw during the hospital hostage situation (he was the guy who offered the crying girl a tissue)

What Gavin plans to do is to investigate this matter more openly to pique the attention of the people behind the incident, and get them to think that he’s still looking for the old police officer

And Gavin needs MC to be the blind spot

Gavin plans to step down from his duties for three months. All the attention will be focused on him, and MC will be able to act without worry

Gavin’s task for MC is to cooperate with him. When the people behind the incident no longer has their eyes on MC, she has to leave a USB flash drive at the location that he tells her to, because he won’t meet the old police officer again to ensure his safety

Understanding his logic, I can’t help but applaud.

MC: That’s incredible. It’s just like a scene from a detective novel! Everyone thought that the time of death was in the morning, but the murder actually took place in the afternoon. So the murderer had a perfect alibi.

Gavin: Even though we’re the detectives, this analogy isn’t bad.

I stretch out my hand solemnly. Gavin pauses for a moment. With a turn of his wrist, he grips the USB drive back into his hand.

Gavin: Have you given it proper thought? After this, it means you’ll be roped into this matter with me.

MC: It’s a little late for Captain Gavin to say this now.

I put on a relaxed smile, wanting to reach out to take the USB drive in his hand.

When I touch his palm, I realise that Gavin, whose hands have always been steady, are actually trembling slightly.

When my hand draws closer, he holds it gently.

Gavin: But I’ll worry about you.

MC: But if I let you face everything on your own, I’d be even more worried. No matter how dangerous or difficult it is, I’ll face it all with you.

Gavin simply looks at me fixedly. I understand what he’s thinking, and return his stare seriously.

MC: As compared to keeping me out of the matter, knowing my movements at all times makes you feel more at ease, right?

Gavin: You’re right. After all, Nox from Black Swan knows how to keep herself busy.

He finally releases a sigh, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He releases my hand, and turns his gaze elsewhere.

Gavin: [sighs] Also, with you around, the performance for the other party will have the most persuasive effect.

MC: Why? Is it because our positions will be opposite when investigating this matter?

MC: ...or is it because it’s most unlikely for the STF to work with Black Swan?

Gavin: Neither. It’s because the other party definitely knows me inside out.

He looks at me again, his gaze shining.

MC: ...huh?

A little confused, I stare at him. Under my gaze, the tips of Gavin’s ears redden slightly, and his eyes avert to the side subconsciously.

Seeing such a Gavin, I’m even more confused. I can’t help but stand up from the office chair, walking to him and meeting his gaze.

He looks at me, the red hue spreading from the tips of his ears to the corners of his eyes.

Gavin: Cough. Under these circumstances, the person I’d want to involve least in this matter...

Gavin: Without a doubt, that person would definitely be you.

When he finishes speaking, he gives me a gentle pull, leaning his forehead against the roof of my head.

The tips of our fingers are incredibly close. Gavin’s hands are at his side. He simply stands in front of me, but doesn’t let me see his face at this present moment.

Gavin: After this, we won’t meet for a very long time. So, give me a little more courage.

-

[ back to the present ]

Gavin’s worried expression seems to linger in front of my eyes. I understand that this decision is incredibly difficult for him.

I can’t let him and his trust down. No matter what, I have to cooperate with Gavin and complete this sham performance.

Returning to my senses, I adjust my breathing in the alley, settling my heart rate, and once again step into the unfinished building.

Gavin has already left.

From the perspective of the person keeping watch on Gavin, Gavin’s private meeting with me today was to protect me in the form of a warning.

Because the other party has a sufficient understanding of Gavin, he would guess that Gavin’s cold attitude was meant to frighten me and push me away.

But he wouldn’t have guessed that this was all a performance that Gavin and I had arranged in advance.

They’ve underestimated the mutual trust between Gavin and I.

After the curtains have fallen on this performance, the other party will have a mistaken judgement--

That I’ve been removed from Gavin’s plan, and that he’s continuing the investigations on his own.

This way, I can convey information to Gavin in secret.

But today, I decide to add a solo to this performance.

After running back to the unfinished building, only the evening breeze flutters on the empty platform.

I pretend to be searching for Gavin, glancing at the residential building opposite.

I release a dejected sigh, so that the hidden person watching me in the darkness can see how upset I am.

...I just hope that my acting isn’t too exaggerated.

At the end, my shoulders are slumped as I leave the roof.

-

My phone rings in the empty building. I answer the call, and Zehn’s anixious voice drifts from the receiver.

Zehn: Boss, the eye-witness we saw at the club two days ago has been taken away by Gavin.

MC: Got it. Find a way to get him back. I want know what exactly Gavin’s up to.

Zehn: Understood.

I end the call, letting out a sigh.

Since I don’t know if my phone calls are being eavesdropped, I didn’t tell anyone about this matter.

Over the next duration, I’ll have to play the part of someone trying her best to chase after Gavin’s footsteps.

As a bait in this act, I’ll lead the other party to a completely different path from the goal.

I also have to continue playing the role of a suspect involved in the assassination incident, and a boss managing the various tasks of a media company--

There are many other things waiting for me to get done.

I have to find an opportune time to send Gavin’s USB drive.

At the same time, I have to continue investigating the information left behind by the deceased director - to see if Evol can lead to pathological changes in Evolvers. In other words, whether there’s a relationship between Evol and pathological changes.

And whether the mess of information is merely a gap or critical details related to the Hunter Game.

There are many things to do, but my heart is surprisingly very calm, and filled with motivation.

Gavin is walking down his path, and I naturally want to become the person who can stand beside him.

My footsteps become more determined, and my heart continually silently thinks about, and hopes--

That Gavin may be safe.

-

Gavin’s Post: While doing a thorough cleanup at home, I found a CD I used to hear frequently in middle school. 

MC: Did you also like this singer last time?

Gavin: Not really. I just heard it being broadcasted in school often.

-

Gavin’s Post: While doing a thorough cleanup at home, I found a CD I used to hear frequently in middle school. 

MC: Is today’s playlist a nostalgic style?

Gavin: Mm, I recalled some things from the past.

-

Gavin’s Post: While doing a thorough cleanup at home, I found a CD I used to hear frequently in middle school. 

MC: Keep it properly as a memento!

Gavin: Things that are truly worth remembering will never be forgotten, and won’t require these things.

Cheri’s Thoughts: There are so many issues with this chapter that I don’t know where to begin... T^T 

Papergames wrote S2 Gavin to be so mentally fragile that his conviction was wavered just because of two bullets (which he, the Special Operations Team, or the STF could have stopped...). 

Back in S1, his conviction wavered because he was indirectly contributing to the deaths of Evolvers, his Evol was going berserk, he could no longer protect the girl he loved, and even injured her accidentally.

I expected that one reason for his conviction to waver in S2 would be because his feelings for MC conflicted with his sense of justice. But clearly, this isn’t the case (unless Papergames is setting us up for another twist) because Gavin is more than willing to work with MC.

Also, what happened to never putting her in danger LOL 

S1 Gavin would never rope MC into a dangerous mission possibly involving the “other side” that has no qualms about resorting to violence to achieve their ends???

I’m happy that Gavin trusts her, but it just progressed too quickly that I don’t know how to feel about it...

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[xlostinobsessionsx]

Good Girls are Bad Girls that haven't been Caught | Luke Patterson

Pairing: alive! 1995! Luke Patterson x fem! Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 4,038

A/N: A big thank you goes to @bass-ic-deaky for proof-reading and making this fic much more vibrant! 💖

This fic is based on "Good Girls" by 5 Seconds of Summer.

Masterlist

Luke and (Y/N) knew each other since they were kids. They had been neighbors since childhood, so it wasn’t uncommon for them to be playing with each other in their adjoining backyards most days. But time went by and slowly they got older. On his 8th birthday, Luke had gotten a guitar and quickly realised his dream of becoming a rock star. After meeting Alex Mercer and Reggie Peters in middle school, the dream slowly became reality. Sunset Curve was born. (Y/N), on the other hand, took on violin instead. 

As time passed, they slowly began to grow apart. One would describe Luke’s style of music and dress as more rock n’ roll grunge. (Y/N), however, looked the total opposite, elegant, poised, which could also be heard through her playing throughout the neighborhood. (Y/N) listened to classical music and took ballet lessons while Luke continued his guitar lessons and went to ice hockey practice. It seemed like after all this time, the two had nothing in common anymore.

Now they were in high school and they barely knew the other existed anymore. The only times Luke saw (Y/N), even though they were still neighbours, was when they ran into each other in the hall or if they just so happened to leave for school at the same time, which these days was very rare. (Y/N) was quite the early riser, and was often already off on her way while Luke was still lying in bed half asleep. Though they had two classes together, they hardly spoke to each other. It was as if their friendship before this had meant nothing.

Sometimes Luke missed the old days. Back then, (Y/N) didn’t seem too different from him. He could still remember them sitting in his treehouse, sharing gummy bears and listening to an old Led Zeppelin album. Now all she ever seemed interested in was studying. But even despite their different paths, they talked to each other from time to time. Their parents, on the other hand, were still very close. Occasionally they met at one of their homes, cooked together, talked about their jobs and even more so about their kids. Luke had learned from his parents that (Y/N) planned to go to Harvard once they graduated. Of course, when they told him that, he couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. He knew his parents wished he had the same or at least similar plans for his life. But Sunset Curve was finally starting to take off. After they played their first gig at a small bar in L. A., more and more bars and clubs were willing to let them perform. Luke had loved rehearsals before, now they were even more fun, especially knowing that they’d get to perform their new songs in front of more people than just Bobby’s parents. Bobby became a part of the band when he moved to L. A. four years after they had formed. With Bobby’s arrival the band not only found a rhythm guitarist, but also a place to rehearse. Before that, they had to rehearse in Reggie’s basement, between boxes and useless junk. Then of course his parents constantly fighting upstairs didn’t make for the best working environment.

Whenever Luke fought with his parents and just needed space to clear his head, there was no better place for him than a small shed in Bobby’s backyard which they had affectionately dubbed their studio. The words from his parents still rang in his ears as he pulled out his bike, guitar case slung over his back. 

“Why can’t you be more like (Y/N)?! She has good grades and a bright future at Harvard!” His mother had wailed.

“Being a rockstar is not a realistic goal, it won’t bring you any money or stability.” His father tried to convince him.

Every time it was always the same. Luke jumped onto his bike and made his way through the backyard towards the gate, when he stopped in his tracks. In the corner of his eyes he could make out a dark figure, running through the yard next to his. At the end of the driveway, he could make out the lights of a car, shining through the trees and the figure running towards it. When the figure finally came into the light, Luke could finally see who it was. She turned around, taking one last look at the house behind her before she opened the car door and got in before promptly speeding off into the darkness. Who did (Y/N) just leave with?

--

Luke was tired the next morning. Despite spending the night in the studio, far away from the trouble with his parents, the young guitarist hadn’t slept a wink. His mind was racing with thoughts of (Y/N) and the mysterious person she had left with. During their lunch break at school, he told his band members of the encounter. “Wait, you mean to tell us that (Y/N), the definition of the perfect daughter, snuck out?” Bobby asked in disbelief. 

Luke nodded. “Yep, got into a car with someone. Can’t say for certain who it was.” The eyes of the four guys wandered to said girl, who was sitting with her friends at a table not far away from their own. 

“I’ll dip into the school gossip and see what I can find out. I’ll deliver the goods.” Alex smirked. And deliver he did at their band practice later that day. “So you know Tori, the girl who sits next to me in chem class and never shuts up? She told me that she heard from one of her friends, who was told by one of his friends that (Y/N) was spotted with Brandon Jones in the back of the library.” 

“Brandon Jones?” Luke asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Alex nodded “Yeah, the captain of the football team who always drives a really expensive car.”

“How do they even know each other? Isn’t he usually on the brink of suspension?” Reggie asked curiously to which Alex shrugged. 

“Well, well, well, seems like your little (Y/N) likes bad boys, Luke.” Bobby laughed, while throwing an arm around Luke’s shoulders. 

Luke quickly shrugged it off with a grimace. “She’s not my (Y/N).” He snapped. “It just surprises me that she sneaks out to meet him. That doesn’t sound like her.” 

“Yeah, ‘cause you know her so well after barely talking to her for years and only making eyes at her from afar.” Bobby countered. 

“I’m not making eyes at her!” The guitarist defended himself much too quickly to be believable. Back in the day when he still was friends with (Y/N), he may have had the tiniest of crushes on her. Luke had to admit that (Y/N) was indeed very beautiful, but he most certainly wasn’t making eyes at her as Bobby had suggested. 

--

A few days passed. Luke sped through the house looking for his jacket so he could get going to band practice, which he was already running late for. “Mom, Dad. I’m going to Bobby’s” He shouted through the house, hoping his parents had heard him. Finally finding his jacket under his bed, he shrugged it on as he made his way through the kitchen. 

He was about to open the back door, when his mom appeared behind him. “Don’t you have a french test to study for? (Y/N)’s father told me about it.” Emily looked expectantly at her son, arms crossed over her chest. 

Luke rolled his eyes and turned around. “Yeah, that’s why I’m going to Bobby’s. We’re gonna study together.” He lied convincingly. 

Emily nodded slowly, a bit skeptical. “(Y/N) studies every night alone and gets good grades. Maybe if you would just concentrate more, you could study alone, too.” Emily suggested. Luke laughed silently. (Y/N) studying every night? That was rich, if only her parents really knew their daughter. 

Luke mentally shook his head out. “Sure, but Bobby is better in french than I am. So he can help me. Work smarter not harder, isn’t that what they say?” He shrugged. 

Emily looked at him thoughtfully. “You could study with (Y/N). She’s nearly fluent in French now.” 

Luke nodded, a slight laugh escaping his lips as he opened the door. “I’ll think about it, alright? Now I really have to go!” He quickly said and made his way outside, slamming the door behind him. He couldn’t be late, after all Sunset Curve was playing another gig tonight. Luke took his bike from its spot against the fence and made his way towards the gate to the front yard when he suddenly saw a figure out of the corner of his eye again. Her hair was flowing in the wind as she quickly made her way through the darkened yard only this time instead of just watching, Luke went after her. Before (Y/N) could reach the car that was waiting for her behind the trees, Luke touched her shoulder. Startled, she let out a yelp of surprise as she spun around. “(Y/N)?” 

“L-Luke...hey.” She laughed nervously. 

“What are you doing out here?” He asked her confused, he was half expecting her to be up in her room studying like the perfect little princess she was. 

(Y/N) clasped at his wrist and pulled him behind the trees, out of the sight of her house. “Don’t you dare tell my parents about this!” She hissed at the guitarist through gritted teeth. 

Luke laughed. “What? That their little princess is sneaking out?”

“I’m not a princess!” She angrily countered. 

Luke shook his head “Nah, you’re right, you’re clearly the living definition of a goody-two-shoes. Such a good girl, eager to please.” 

(Y/N) rolled her eyes “You clearly forget everything you thought about good girls.” 

Luke furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?” 

Suddenly a voice interrupted both of them “(Y/N) you’re coming?” Brandon Jones, cool as ever with a cigarette poised elegantly between his lips, sat in the car beside them, looking with raised eyebrows at the girl in front of Luke. 

(Y/N)’s gaze wandered between the two boys “I gotta go.” She murmured as she opened the car door. But before getting inside she paused and turned to Luke again. “Good girls are bad girls that haven’t been caught.” She winked as she got into the car immediately rolling down the window. “Now be a good boy and just turn around and forget about this encounter, alright?”. With that, she sped off leaving the guitarist standing there dumbfounded. Luke shook his head in disbelief, what had just happened?

When he arrived at Bobby’s, (Y/N) words were still running laps through Luke’s head. He was quick to tell the rhythm guitarist about the encounter. “‘Good girls are bad girls that haven’t been caught’.” Bobby murmured. 

Luke nodded. “That’s what she said. Sounds pretty rad don’t you think?” He looked at the other guitarist who nodded in agreement. “Yeah...” Suddenly it was extremely and rather awkwardly quiet. “Do you think that they-” Luke started.

“Are seeing each other?” Bobby finished his friend’s question, the lead guitarist nodding in confirmation. “Would it matter?” 

Luke shrugged. “I mean, I just don’t want her to see her being pressured into something she doesn’t want to.” 

Bobby laughed quietly. “OR you just don’t want her doing anything with Brandon.” 

“Okay, I am definitely not jealous!” Luke countered, shaking his head.

“I never said you were, but now that you mention it…”

“Oh shut up...besides I’ve barely spoken to her in years!”

“But people don’t really change that much!” Bobby countered. 

Luke huffed dramatically. “Well she did!” 

“I don’t know about that, bro. Sneaking out? Doesn’t really sound like the (Y/N) we know from school.” He paused a moment. “The (Y/N) you knew when you were younger, the one you’ve told me about, that’s her down to the letter.” He shrugged as rose from his spot. “But enough about this. We’ve gotta go pick up Alex and Reggie. Otherwise we’re going to be late!” Luke quickly nodded, grabbing his guitar before following Bobby outside. 

The club was completely packed with people. Luke could hear the audience’s chattering from backstage. “This is so cool!” Reggie excitedly said after taking a look through the club. “There are so many people here from school, too!” 

Luke took a deep breath. Adrenaline was starting to course through his veins. He could practically hear his heart beating in his chest as the band made their way onto the stage. He blinked a few times as he tried to get used to the spotlights. His gaze drifted down through the crowd in front of them as they quickly set themselves up. Suddenly he stopped. At the back, right next to the bar, there she was standing. Their eyes met and a small smile played around her lips. Luke laughed to himself quietly before taking a step closer to the mic. “We’re Sunset Curve!”

After their gig, Luke made his way through the crowd. Everytime someone patted his shoulder to tell him how good they were, she nodded thankfully but his eyes always stayed fixated on (Y/N). When he finally stood in front of her a giggle left her lips “Good show, Patterson.” 

He smirked, leaning against the bar. “Thanks.”

“Just like we imagined when we were kids.” She slightly bumped against his shoulder. 

The guitarist felt his heart beat faster at this. Nervously he rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess.”

“So that’s what you’ve been up to all this time...?” She quietly asked, her gaze drifting through the crowd. Luke nodded in reply. “And soon you’re gonna be famous!” She smiled suddenly much more excited. 

Luke laughed “I think that’s still a long way off. What about you? What’ve you been up to?” He asked her curiously. 

“Oh, you know violin and ballet lessons, the usual. I haven’t told my parents yet that I’m sick of it!” She nonchalantly took a sip from her coke and looked at him. 

Luke furrowed his brows, he was genuinely confused. “I thought that’s what you liked? I mean you got your violin around the same time I got my guitar.” 

(Y/N) shook her head “I practically begged my parents to get me an electric bass so we could form a band but they got me a violin. Said it would be better for me.” 

Luke was surprised at those words. “A band?” He saw (Y/N)’s cheeks taking on a pink shade. 

She shrugged. “Like Led Zeppelin.” Suddenly ‘Whole Lotta Love’ started to blast through the speakers of the club. (Y/N) laughed “That’s creepy. Like they’ve been listening to us talk about it.” 

But Luke barely listened to her. Instead he had been transported back to 1987. He had just found the old Led Zeppelin EP in one of his dad’s boxes he kept into the attic. He had immediately called (Y/N) to meet him in the treehouse. They had been listening to the songs when suddenly (Y/N) had told him about her best female friend (Y/F/N), who had told her that she had kissed Fynn, a boy from their class. “Like a real kiss? On their lips?” Luke had asked with wide eyes. He, of course, had asked her if she ever had kissed a boy on the lips. (Y/N) had admitted that she had never. In her childish recklessness, or could it be her boldness, she had told him that he was the only one who she would have wanted to kiss. Luke remembered how nervous he had been, when (Y/N) had leaned in, ‘Whole Lotta Love’ playing in the background when their lips touched but for a short second. 

Luke looked wide-eyed at the girl in front of him, who didn’t know the memory that was playing in his head at the moment. His gaze fell from her eyes to her lips. Maybe Bobby had been right. Maybe (Y/N) hadn’t really changed that much and maybe he still had those feelings he had for her when he was smaller. He quickly shook his head. He couldn’t have those thoughts. (Y/N) was here with someone else. “So where’s your shadow?” He asked, referring to Brandon. He turned to the bar to order a coke. 

She sighed “Having a smoke.” 

“Already missing him?” He laughed. 

(Y/N) huffed, slightly annoyed. “Yeah, sure.” 

“I thought you were a thing?” Luke asked, turning to her again. 

(Y/N) furrowed her brows “Who told you that?” 

“Nobody. I just thought because you always sneak out to meet him and because you’re here together…?” He shrugged. 

(Y/N) laughed. “No, I mean it’s fun to hang out but I would never...I mean...he’s a player and only plays with girls.” 

Luke looked at her amused. “So you’re just hanging out with him for the sake of hanging out?” (Y/N) nodded. 

“I was just tired of everything. Of my life. It seemed like a good escape, you know? But now...it’s really hard to make it clear to him that nothing will ever happen.”

“Just be careful, alright? I don’t think he’ll let you get off the hook so easy.” 

(Y/N) shook her head “Soon he’ll get tired of me and look for someone else.” 

“And what about you then?”

(Y/N) took a deep breath and turned to him, something obviously weighing heavily on her mind. “Luke, I-” She started, but before she could finish her sentence they were interrupted as an arm found his way around (Y/N) shoulder. 

“I’m back.” Brandon smirked, eying Luke suspiciously. 

“Hey Brandon.” Luke smirked, annoyance evident in his gaze, before turning to (Y/N) again. “It was nice catching up, (Y/N). See ya around.” With that he made his way through the crowd, trying to stop himself from thinking about (Y/N).

--

Days passed. Once again, Luke barely saw (Y/N) apart from their classes. He was sitting in his room, writing down the lyrics to a song that had been stuck in his mind for days, when suddenly the doorbell rang. He ran down the hall of the family’s ranch style home and was met with her beautiful eyes, when he opened the door. “(Y/N)! So good to see you!” Emily greeted with a big smile, appearing behind Luke. “Come on in.” Luke stepped aside to let the girl inside. With a questioning glance, he looked to his mother. “I called (Y/N)’s parents to ask if she could help you in french. I think that would be better than having to go all the way to Bobby’s, right?” 

Luke nodded slowly “Uhm, yeah. Sounds good. Uhm, we could go into my room?” He suggested, looking at Emily. 

His mother nodded “Yes, but leave the door open. I’ll bring you some snacks.” 

Luke nodded in agreement and turned to (Y/N). “Shall we?” (Y/N) nodded in reply and followed him down the hall to his bedroom. “Take a seat, I guess.” He pointed to the chair in front of his desk as he took a seat on the bed. “What are you doing here?”

“Helping you in french.” She laughed. 

Luke nodded slowly, a sly, teasing smirk appearing on his face. “And, uh, is Brandon alright with you hanging out with me?”  

“Who cares?” (Y/N) rolled her eyes at the mention of his name. “Right after your concert I told him I couldn’t see him anymore.” 

Luke furrowed his brows. “Why?”

“As I already told you, at first it was just an escape but...he wanted to do more the entire time and I just didn’t want to...at least not with him.” She laughed. 

Luke looked at her, a playful glint in his eye. “Not with him, huh? So someone else has caught your eye then?” he laughed. 

(Y/N) shrugged, casting her glance downward. “Maybe. But that won’t happen, so…” 

“Why not?” 

(Y/N) sighed, nervously keeping her gaze trained to the ground, before looking up at him again. “Luke...you see...I know we haven’t had that much contact over the last few years, but...I wish it was different and I’m sorry. I thought...well I had hoped...“ She paused, inhaling deeply. “Maybe we could start over? Being friends again?” She asked, hope evident in her voice. 

Suddenly Luke felt his heartbeat just a tiny bit faster. “Friends?” He croaked, before clearing his throat. “You mean like back in the day?” 

(Y/N) nodded. “Yeah, and uhm maybe…” She nervously played with the necklace around her neck. Luke’s eyes drifted to the pendant. It was the necklace he had given her when she had turned seven. Inside it he had put a picture of the both of them. (Y/N) eyes softened when she saw what Luke was looking at. She took the chain from around her neck and slowly took his hand, placing it in his palm. She looked expectantly at it before looking up at him. Luke opened it and found himself looking at his and (Y/N)’s younger selves. In the picture he had his arm slung around her shoulders. Both of them were smiling brightly. 

Luke sighed as he smiled at the memory of that day. “I had a little crush on you back then.” He admitted quietly, staring at the toothy grin of her younger version. 

“You did?” (Y/N) asked. 

He nodded, his eyes never leaving the picture. “I was so sad when we stopped talking, but it...it had just happened, right?” 

“I wish it hadn’t...I uh...I had a crush on you, too.” she murmured. 

Luke laughed quietly, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place. “So if we want to go back to how it was then…” 

“You would have a crush on me?” (Y/N) smiled hopefully. 

Luke shrugged. “Maybe I still do.” He felt his cheeks heating up as (Y/N) clasped at his hands. 

“Maybe I still have a crush on you, too.” 

Luke’s heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. His eyes met (Y/N)’s and he couldn’t stop his smile from growing wider if that was even possible. “Just maybe?” He asked cheekily, as he slowly leaned in closer. 

“Alright, so definitely.” (Y/N) giggled as their lips connected in a tender kiss. 

--

“Please, you have to come!” Luke whispered into the phone in the kitchen where the landline was. It was already dark inside the house, his parents already having turned in for the night. 

“Okay, fine. But you tell my parents that you have a good influence on me the next time they see us.” She laughed through the speaker, before hanging up. 

They met behind the trees at the back of their yards. He leaned in to greet her with a short kiss. “I missed you.” He murmured, hiding his face into her neck. 

“We just saw each other a few hours ago.” (Y/N) laughed. 

“That’s so long ago!” He countered as Luke got onto his bike and looked expectantly at (Y/N), who stood on the tire spokes behind him. “Hold on tight!”

The venue was filled with people dancing and chattering. (Y/N) followed Luke to the side of the stage. “Stay here so you’ll have a good view of the stage and that way I can see you, too.” He said, looking at her with a wide smile. 

“Knock ‘Em dead, rockstar!” She beamed at him, leaning in to give him a good-luck kiss. 

“Alright, enough of that lovebirds. We gotta go!” Bobby laughed, interrupting the cute moment pushing Luke toward the stage. 

Reggie smiled at them. “Look at all the people! It’s gonna be sick!” 

Alex shrugged nervously. “I hope they like us...” 

(Y/N) smiled at the other band members “You’re gonna rock this, I’m sure of it!” She hugged them and wished them good luck, before the band went onto the stage. 

Luke’s gaze immediately fell to his girlfriend, who gave him a thumbs-up. He winked at her before getting closer to the mic. “Hey, we’re Sunset Curve, thank you for having us.” The crowd erupted in cheers. “Thank you.” He laughed “We directly wanna start with a new song. It’s inspired by a person who means the world to me.” His gaze fell to (Y/N) again, who was smiling at him. “It’s called Good Girls/Bad Girls.”

“She said to me forget what you’ve thought, cause good girls are bad girls that haven’t been caught.”

[noctarcanum]

army dreamers || levi ackerman x male!oc

Rowan, the young, but promising marleyan warrior candidate was never famous for his ability to keep out of other people's businesses. After getting caught up in his family's history of titan experiments and genetically modified clans, his supervisors decide to harvest said curiosity and lack of discipline. He wakes up on a ship, sailing north, with a piece of paper in his backpack that has only one sentence written on it, over and over again: "Kill the remaining Ackermans on Paradis Island and return home."

chapter one: the remaining

‘So, is it true?’

Zeke pushed himself away from the concrete wall he was leaning against.

‘What?’

‘That you’re the one to inherit it.’

The streets of the inner district got filled with busy adults, hurrying home from work. The two blonde boys slowly made their way through the crows, leaving the training center behind them. The setting sun painted an orange glow on the old, shiny stones and bricks.

‘Oh,’ Zeke sighed. ‘Yeah. But keep quiet!’

‘Quiet?’ Rowan exclaimed with sparkling eyes. ‘But this is awesome, you can finally be an honorary marleyan! You’re gonna be rich or some shit! Who knows about it?’

‘Those who need to know about it.’

Rowan walked next to him in silence, as he examined the stores they were passing by. Women with thicker arms than some warriors were carrying wooden boxes back from the street, cleaned the blackboards. He didn’t really understand why they had to clean them, after all, the same thing was advertised on them every day: potatoes and flour. Maybe because the price got higher and higher.

He thought about what his sister and mother did while he was away at training and then the interrogation. He doubted if Ma even got dressed.

‘Do you want to come over for dinner?’ asked Rowan. ‘You could tell Cornelia the big news!’

‘I was there yesterday…’

‘And?’

They turned at the corner but didn’t stop at Zeke’s house.

‘Do you think I have a bigger chance now to get the armored? I mean, you could say some nice things about me every now and then!’

‘Yeah, I’ll tell them about you. What nice things could I say to them, though? You are already on thin ice, that would just end up me also being punished.’

Rowan rolled his eyes but didn’t respond.

‘You’re being punished, right?’ Zeke inquired.

‘Well, yes, technically, no. They kept talking about all the things they can thank my family, and how it won’t protect me forever, and…’

‘They’re right, you know.’

‘I know,’ Rowan sighed. ‘Also, interrupt me again and you’re not getting dinner. As I was saying… they sort of agreed with me. Or I was just hallucinating out of stress.’

‘I highly doubt that’s a thing’ Zeke shook his head. ‘What on Earth did you say to them that they agreed?’

‘Well, they first shouted at me that I need to stop acting up, they can’t deal with me anymore in these times. You know, they’re about to plan the mission to retrieve the Founding… but they don’t even have proper candidates yet, they’re just stupid fuckers who never learned how to deal with pressure…’

‘Rowan, quiet!’

‘Shit, okay, got it!’ the younger frowned. ‘It was quite the speech they gave, though. About the titan experiments my ancestors did, and those… families. That the shifters they will have to send to Paradis will not only have to deal with those devils, but entire clans of genetically manipulated guard dogs, and they really don’t have the time to discipline me every time I’m too nosy. So, it got me thinking, and I just blurted it out, that they should get rid of the families first, then comes the hunt for the founding titan…’

Zeke raised a brow, his eyes locked on Rowan. He knew him too much, that tall monkey was already thinking, planning, or just revising ideas. His train of thought was interrupted by the sight of two soldiers, patrolling the narrow street.

‘When were they placed here?’ asked Rowan, as Zeke didn’t comment on the phenomenon.

‘They weren’t here yesterday,’ he muttered.

‘That’s why I asked, dumbass.’

Zeke yet again stayed silent – he did that an awfully lot of times. Rowan sometimes wondered if it simply was his nature, or he became like this after… what happened with Aunt Dina and Uncle Grisha. What he did not like to wonder about, is that what would happen to Cornelia and Ma if he got sent to paradise, like Zeke’s parents. Would they break down? Miss him? Rent out his bedroom immediately? Starve to death?

‘So, I only said the… plan or whatthefuckever to get them off my tail, but I think I really did give them ideas… I hope this makes me more favorable when it will come to the inheriting the armored titan!’ He had to blabber about something before his mind went to a darker place.

Rowan locked the front door behind them as they entered the narrow townhouse. Thick dust sat everywhere, around and on the once elegant leather shoes his mother used to wear but wasn’t picked up in weeks. The filth that Ma didn’t take care of quickly distracted him from the bad feeling he got from the soldiers on the street, this far from the fence.

‘Ma! Cornelia! Zeke is staying here tonight! What’s for dinner?’ he shouted, but got no answer, as usual.

They found his sister at the kitchen table, sleeping on top of a pile of textbooks. Her silver hair spread out on the pages, but he knew she studied for her pilot exams. Which she won’t be able to take if they’re not honorary marleyans. Another thought Rowan needed a distraction from.

Rowan gave Zeke a more comfortable t-shirt and sweatpants, after they both changed they headed back to the kitchen. Their cupboards were almost completely empty.

‘Didn’t you get the aid this month?’ Zeke glanced at him, after unsuccessfully searching for fresh ingredients.

‘The military has some good methods to keep up one’s motivation’ he shrugged. ‘We still have some potatoes and dry pasta somewhere, I think.’

They started working together in silence, Zeke knowing the kitchen just as good as Rowan. They boiled the potatoes, then the pasta, and added the remaining spices from the packet.

The meal was only enough for two.

Zeke automatically picked up one bowl and put it in front of Cornelia, who didn’t wake up to any of the noises they made.

Rowan gave the other to Ma, who even though had her eyes open, could have easily been asleep. He placed the warm bowl in her lap, guiding her bony, scarred hands to grab onto it, but her reaction to any of these arrived long seconds later. She didn’t seem to register his presence, not even when she sat up a bit on the sofa, and started eating, her greasy hair falling in front of her face, functioning like an old, ugly curtain. He stayed next to her for a while to make sure she didn’t stop after a few bites. Meanwhile, his mind wandered in his memories, trying to think back to the times his Ma was still pretty and healthy. Were they even real memories, or just the creation of a young little girl?

Zeke and he headed upstairs to get away from the smell of pasta that made their stomachs growl even louder.

‘Is it always going to be like this?’ Rowan asked quietly, not even expecting an answer.

‘This is what we signed up for.’

Rowan sat down on the bed, soon followed by Zeke. Their shoulders touched, but they didn’t pull away.

The bed they sat on barely counted as one, as it was one old mattress laid on the ground. He was supposed to get a frame, a few years back, Uncle Grisha promised to assemble one. This was the smallest promise that was broken.

He glanced out the window the mattress was placed next to. The two soldiers were still patrolling on their street.

‘We should sleep,’ said Zeke. ‘Or at least you should, you had a long day.’

So Rowan did. It was the last time he closed his eyes with full trust in the presence of him, as he didn’t wake up in his own bed the next morning. He didn’t even have any kind of bed under him, only smelly, wooden slats, and the scent of the sea around him.

He got up, thinking he was dreaming some bullshit again, but the wind in his long hair was too real. Everything got too real in mere seconds, just as the dozens of people a few feet away from him, all in chains. All in chains, except form him.

A nearby officer flinched as he spotted Rowan moving, his hand moving closer to the grip of his gun. He was clearly still a detainee, but some other kind. The ship they were on… was it sailing to Paradise? That was his supervisor’s solution to harmless bullshit he pulled sometimes? Turning him into the same mindless titan as traitors and murderers?

‘Hey, you rat.’ Burped the old officer, not even bothering to look in his direction anymore. ‘You’re not here for sightseeing, you have instructions.’

Rowan opened his backpack with trembling hands. It was almost empty – it had a water bottle in it, his knife that he trained with, and a piece of paper that got smudged ink all over it.

It had the same sentence written on it over and over again, mimicking the punishment they used on first graders in school. He couldn’t tell if it was Zeke’s or Cornelia’s handwriting.

Kill the remaining Ackermans on Paradis Island and return home.

Kill the remaining Ackermans on Paradis Island and return home.

Kill the remaining Ackermans on Paradis Island and return home.

Kill the remaining Ackermans on Paradis Island and return home.

Kill the remaining Ackermans on Paradis Island and return home.