#who had to spend her entire life figuring out her dream

[thesunloveschips]

Obsessed - Part 6 (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: Azriel and Y/n are idiots in obsession and perfectly matched in lust.

Warnings: Azriel & specs, Azriel's chest, delusional Azriel, smut towards the end, minors please stay away.

Click here for Obsessed (Masterlist)

****

Azriel was always an early riser. He would wake up at five in the morning religiously. The only exceptions were when he’d visit his mother or his two moronic friends. 

Today, however, was an exception because he had woken up at. . . what time was it? 

He felt quite refreshed but in many other ways than what sleep could do to him. 

He blinked a few times and took in his surroundings. 

Why was it still dark? Had he slept through the entire day? 

Azriel took his phone from the nightstand and checked. Midnight had just passed. 

He kept his phone back and turned to the side and saw a silhouette under the light of the moon. A woman. 

Azriel took his phone back and switched on the flashlight. It was a woman. Her back, to be more specific, but a woman nonetheless. 

He quickly sat up straight. 

He had to bleach himself. 

Out of what insanity or desperation had he invited a woman into this apartment? 

This apartment that he’d purchased solely for attaining his goal of making Y/n his?

He had to buy a new apartment now. 

Or a new building.

Wait. 

He had to go purify himself first. 

And then he could only hope and beg and pray that Y/n would still accept his adulterous self. 

Y/n, I have committed an unforgivable sin. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. 

Now, what did people do to cleanse their sins?

Repentance. But before he could do a Google search on how to regain his virginity, the woman beside him stirred. 

Azriel didn’t even want to know who it was. Knowing would make it even more real. 

He had to go to a temple, shave his head, and become a monk for a while before he became chaste enough for Y/n. 

What if Y/n saw this woman leave his apartment? She’d instantly reject him as a potential husband. The horror of it made it increasingly difficult for him to breathe.

How did people repent for infidelity? He had to know immediately. He had to make Y/n his and be hers in this lifetime. 

Maybe he should just go over to her apartment and beg for forgiveness already. Azriel could already see himself kneeling and apologising and begging Y/n to marry him.

He took a quick look behind him to see the woman’s face. 

Y/n. 

Y/n?

This beautiful goddess with the lovely figure was Y/n?

Was she real? Or just a figment of the uncountable number of fantasies and dreams he’d had of his woman? He calmed down a little. 

Azriel hesitantly poked her cheek. Fuck, she was so adorable. 

And then he pinched his cheek and pulled it until he felt the pain. 

Oh. She was real. 

Y/n was real. 

He nearly melted into the bed, now watching her carefully. 

Thank fuck he hadn’t cheated on her lest his conscious haunt him forever and beyond. 

Memories of the previous night flashes before him. Kissing her. Undressing her. Devouring her on the dining table. 

Fuck, fuck, that pretty mouth had been so good for him, taking his cock so well. And he’d tasted her again and then, he’d found himself inside her. 

How was it that he’d lost himself to this world again and again, only to find himself with Y/n? Was this what home meant? 

Her hair spread behind her in soft dark waves. Such lovely hair. So easy to grab and pull so that he could manoeuvre her body. 

Azriel dared to move closer to this ethereal being. And as if she’d sensed him, she snuggled closer to him, as if she was seeking him out. 

He checked whether they were wrapped properly in the blankets and watched her. Her legs were pushing and poking his own, trying to be sandwiched between them. 

His hand on her back felt like a dream. Such supple skin.

She was so beautiful, he had to tell his mother of his intention to marry her. 

He felt his brain become mushy as he watched her. 

His perfect Y/n. 

Such brilliance. 

Such a blessing. 

His phone began vibrating and Azriel suddenly felt murderous. 

Who the fuck thought they would interrupt his time with his woman and get away with it?

It was Rhysand. 

Of course, it was Rhysand. 

The asshole had no consideration about the time difference ever since he was hell bent on acquiring Hewn Inc. 

Azriel’s Umbra Industries and Rhys’s Velaris Corp. were all set to acquire Hewn Inc. and they were mapping out all their plans for its future. 

The acquisition was on its way with their lawyers working on it but when Rhys had an idea (which was usually a brilliant one), he also made it a point to be a menace. 

He cancelled the call and texted him. His arm was already missing Y/n’s skin from when it was draped over her. 

Why did he have to hold a device when Y/n was sleeping next to him? This was utterly ridiculous.

Rhysand’s reply was interesting enough that he left the bed, took out his laptop, and returned. Now, he was absolutely determined to get this done before he could return to holding Y/n. 

And if the sun rose before he could get in a good amount of cuddling time, he’d definitely thrash Rhys.

****

Y/n had woken up feeling rather refreshed. Her body turned and stretched on the bed itself before she properly opened her eyes and. . . where was she?

This wasn’t her fluffy furry blanket on her. The windows bringing the moonlight were on the wrong side of the room. There was another source of light in the room coming from the other side of the bed.

She turned around and saw a toned body lit up by the screen of a laptop. 

That body, inked in swirls and patterns unknown, belonged to Azriel. 

She looked up at that face and found him wearing glasses. 

So, overall, logically speaking, her neighbour, this man, had nice abs, tattoos, tanned skin, a perfect face, curly dark hair, and glasses.

Y/n buried her face under the sheets quickly, knowing that the movement would definitely catch his attention. 

Because she couldn’t look at him for too long. 

She’d faint. 

Of course, she’d faint. 

Why was this man so ridiculously, otherworldly, erotically, fictionally hot?

This should be illegal.

But when she realised that he hadn’t initiated a talk with her, she shyly took a peek. Only to see Azriel’s face close to hers. 

Y/n squealed as she hid under the blankets again. 

He was still wearing glasses. So unfair. 

“Y/n?” What was with that bedroom voice? 

Was this man determined to not let her breathe in peace? 

Could he take a break from being so hot?

“Sweetheart?” Somebody, have some mercy already. Lord or Lady or Satan, somebody better help her soon else she’d die of bliss and fuck off to the afterlife. 

Nesta. 

Nesta. 

The only one who could help Y/n right now was Nesta. That woman could manipulate men whereas Y/n was definitely the opposite if anyone could see her right now. 

And what the fuck was that world-rocking, toe-curling, mindblowing sex?

Did anybody warn her that her endlessly handsome neighbour, with a build as if the devil had personally sculpted him, was going to be some kind of a sex god? 

The man had literally picked her up like she’d weighed nothing and thrown her on the bed. 

He’d thrown her. 

The goddess of dark romance and smut had finally, finally, answered her prayers and blessed her. 

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank–

“Y/n?” While she was busy with her gratitude, Azriel had pulled off the blankets from her. 

She looked up at him, embarrassed at her own behaviour. “Hi?” 

“Hello.” And he wrapped the blanket over her excluding her head. He was now laying sideways, resting his head on his hand with the elbow propped up. “Why were you hiding?”

“Nothing.” And she moved to turn her body but Azriel grabbed her waist, pulled her closer, and secured her. 

“Nothing?” Why was his delicious chest in front of her? She shut her eyes tightly to control herself. Do not lick. No matter what happens, do not lick his chest. 

Y/n felt him closer as he laid down properly, his arm now extended and placed beneath her head. The other hand played with her love handles, gently pinching and poking them. 

“Sweetheart?” His voice was sincere and affectionate and Y/n couldn’t help but look at him. Under the moonlight, Azriel looked like he adored her the most in the world. “There’s my girl.” 

The hand on her waist trailed up to her side, his thumb grazing the underside of her breast before the hand came to cradle her head. Azriel leaned in and kissed her forehead softly. 

Once again, Y/n felt a veil fall on her. She didn’t understand what it was except that she felt immensely comforted. “Az?” 

“Hm?” He stroked her hair. 

“Mhm.” Y/n snaked her arms around his neck and pulled him towards her. “You’re so warm.” Yes. Focus on the warmth and fluffy things. Cleanse thyself from filth. 

“You like that?” Y/n had read this line in a smutty romance. Jesus had probably abandoned her after seeing her reading list. 

“Mhm.” She snuggled deeper against him. A few minutes of contented silence passed before Y/n realised why she’d woken up. “Az?”

“Hm?”

“I’m hungry.”

“Oh?” Y/n could hear the filth in his tone and she pinched his arm. 

“For food.” She added, hoping to heavens because she definitely needed more energy before even kissing him. 

Azriel kissed her temple, her cheek, her jaw, and descended to her neck. “Sure I can’t convince you otherwise?” 

“I really don’t have the energy. And I didn’t have anything after lunch.” At that Azriel stopped his attempts at seduction.

“What do you want to eat?” He sounded quite serious. 

“Do you have some snacks?”

“You’re a healthy eater, sweetheart. Will snacks be enough?” It wouldn’t. He knew her eating habits by now. 

“Cooking sounds tiresome.” She caressed his cheek. Gods, this man was so warm, she’d keep him as a personal heater. 

“Then let me take you somewhere.” 

“To that place you said earlier?” He did mention that right after they’d started kissing against her front door. 

“You paid attention to that?” The hand that snaked around her waist did not have any innocent intentions.

“Food, Az. Or I might faint.” Y/n desperately wanted to ride this man while he wore specs. Gods, that was a wonderful fantasy. 

“When we return, I’m having you all to myself.” Azriel grumbled, not liking the idea of being away from their cuddling session. 

Who was she to say anything when she was least interested in leaving bed where he was keeping her warm?

Once they’d somehow escaped the temptation of a warm bed, Azriel told her to dress warm and borrow his clothes as needed. 

He grabbed his keys and they were in the car, en route to some place her hot neighbour did not divulge. 

They reached a quaint fast food outlet from where they had burgers and fries and finally moved. 

****

“Tell me we’re going home.” Home? Gods, he loved hearing her say that. Home. What a beautiful place to be. But he was already home since she was next to him. 

“Not yet. I wanted to show you something.”

“Those mouthwatering burgers weren’t it?”

“I planned to bring you there anyway but this is something else.” They were headed towards the outskirts of the city. At some point, Y/n had fallen asleep. 

Such an adorable woman. He really needed to marry her. 

They’d reached their destination soon. He stepped out of the car, opened the door to the passenger seat, and gently shook her to wake her up. 

“Y/n? Sweetheart?” And she mumbled something incoherent and weakly pushed his arm away. He tried again and again and again before she finally woke up. 

“Az?” It was the softest he’d ever heard her. Now, how difficult was it to get a marriage certificate? It was certainly not difficult but Y/n and his mother would team up to kill him if he tried that. 

“We‘re here.” And it was a viewpoint in the outskirts of the city from where the city and the stars were an incredible sight. He watched Y/n as she admired them, awe on her features. 

“They’re so pretty.” She sighed, her head against his arm. “When did you find this place?”

“I went on a midnight drive a couple of days ago. Thought you’d like it.” 

“I do like it.” She affirmed. Azriel noted that. He needed to tell his PA to search for properties in the area. They leaned against the bonnet of the car for all of five minutes maybe before Y/n yawned loudly. 

“Let’s go back.” 

“But we came all the way here.” She protested sleepily. 

“And you’re sleepy. We need to rest. We’ll come back another night.” 

“Promise?” She was so fucking adorable.

“Promise.” He pinched her cheek. 

Azriel helped her settle in the passenger seat before entering the car himself. Y/n had once again fallen asleep on the way home. 

He had to wake her again since it would’ve been difficult to carry her and punch in the security code for the building and then open his door. 

During the elevator ride up, she stretched her arms like a cat waking up from sleep. By the time they reached their floor, Y/n was more awake than she was downstairs. 

They made it to the bedroom and Azriel knew they would undress. He knew they would go to bed. And yet, as she removed his jacket, he was consumed with need. 

If he removed his pants right now, he’d lose restraint and definitely beg for another round. He watched as she gathered her hair and secured it with a hair clip, claw, whatever that was. 

And she then removed the shirt he’d lent her for the night. It was one of his favourites but it looked so much better on her. Y/n gracefully removed it, giving him a spectacular view of her back and neck. 

The purple blots on her neck felt like his personal branding on her. Pride bloomed as he noted those hickeys. Those hands deftly unclasped her bra and she turned to keep the clothes on the chair. 

And Azriel, being the man that he was, was a goner as soon as he caught sight of those plentiful breasts. He was hard. And with good reason. 

And then, Y/n saw him staring shamelessly at her. She raised a brow. “What?” 

The plan was to reach the bed. 

The plan was to cuddle and sleep. 

The plan was no more. 

The new plan was to get her naked and fuck her silly. “Don’t seduce me if you’re not going to do anything about it, Y/n.” 

How stupid did he sound? She was undressing. Just as he knew she would. She wasn’t even fully naked and he was already aroused. The bulge on his pants was enough proof of his lust and shamelessness. 

Y/n was tired. Or was she? Since she’d been stretching in the elevator. But her gaze right now. As she watched him and her own eyes mirrored his desire. “Or what?” 

It was a challenge. 

Maybe his woman was not so sleepy after all. 

Her nipples were already hard and ready for his mouth and Azriel was looking nowhere else.

He marched over, a hand rising to her throat and the other playing with her breast, fingers pinching her nipple. “How about we see if you keep behaving like a brat once I’ve edged you for some time?” 

“Or shall I go to bed and you can take care of that in the bathroom?” She touched his hand on her throat and brought it to her cheek and leaned into his touch. 

Oh fuck. 

That confidence of hers did things to his belly, all of which shot straight to his cock. 

“And you’ll just sleep?”

“Maybe I’ll take care of myself here while you’ll be occupied with your cock.” 

“Really?.” Azriel lifted her and carried her to bed. He removed her jeans swiftly and sat right next to her. “Should I come on your tits?” Azriel kissed her, moving so that he was hovering over her. He moved to suck on her nipple and remained there for a while. 

“Or on your belly?” He kissed right above the pelvic bone. Her hands scratching his neck and back was a wonderful sensation. With that much, he was ready to fuck her. 

Azriel moved to capture her mouth in a searing kiss. “Or inside that pretty pussy?”

“Are you going to wear all that to bed?” She lazily asked, tugging at the sleeve of his shirt. His clothes were cold against her topless body. 

“No. I think I like being naked around you.” He responded with a playful smile. 

“Then, strip.” It was at this moment that Azriel once again realised that he was entirely fucked. 

He thought he was wholly hers from the moment he saw her but there were more parts of him. Parts that submitted to her when they kissed. 

When he ate her out. 

When she touched his cock for the first time. 

When he thrusted into that warm cunt. 

Every single time, a new part of him he didn’t know about became hers. “You’re making this hard for me.” 

“Your cock is hard for me?” She coyly rephrased and shot back, a sultry smile gracing her lips.

**** 

The way she wanted this man to rail her hard—it was honestly not funny. At this point, Nesta would be more proud of her sexual enthusiasm than Azriel.

“Yes, it is. And what a fucking temptation you are.” He grabbed her throat and kissed her. It was heavenly—the feel of his mouth pressing wet kisses to her neck.

She caught hold of his hair and let her nails through the scalp as Azriel brought some relief to her nipples with his mouth. 

For all her hunger, Azriel gave and gave and Y/n really wanted more and more. She sighed. “Az.”

“I know.” He growled. Frustration didn’t even begin to cover this. 

Azriel brought her leg above his and slowly thrusted into her, eliciting a moan. Her body curved, neck exposed for his mouth. 

“Now, sleep.” Wait. What?

He pressed a wet kiss to her throat. 

“Can’t sleep.” It felt so warm. And now that his cock was inside her, she couldn’t help her need. 

“It’s the only relief.” He kissed her shoulder.

“It’s not.” She whimpered. It was torture not to be fucked by that perfect cock. “Please.” 

“Like that?” Azriel thrusted once. 

“Oh yes.” And he thrusted again. The slow thrusts began, pace never faltering. Y/n was feeling more and more and she wanted to take more. 

“Dirty girl. I thought you were tired.” Azriel was now setting a slow, steady pace. 

“I thought that too.” She sighed. “Az!” She nearly shrieked his name when he sped up for a few seconds. “Wait.” 

Azriel paused, examining her face. “What happened?”

Y/n bent her leg and pushed herself up so she was now straddling Azriel. 

“Fuck me.” He sighed, hands coming to her hips.

Y/n felt her sensuality bloom. It felt good to know her effect on him. To know she had control. She rose and descended on his cock twice. “Like this?”

She then rotated her hips and rose and descended. “Or like this?” 

Azriel’s eyes were shut tightly, grip on her hips tightening. “Fuck.” 

This was liberating. To be sexually empowered. Especially when Azriel made his pleasure known, thereby making her feel like she was good. She felt wonderful. And she felt beautiful and sensual and so many things.

“Or like this?” And she willed herself to clench on his cock. 

Azriel opened his eyes instantly and moaned—moaned. 

Pride zapped her in the chest. To know that she could pleasure her man and find pleasure in it was such an empowering feeling.

And when she loosened her hold on him, he pulled her by the hand and let her fall on his chest. “My dirty girl.” 

Azriel bit her ear and Y/n felt him move his legs. His thighs moved and her face was suddenly pushed closer to his. “Az?”

“Prepare yourself.” That was the only warning she received before Azriel thrusted into her like that. He was now rigorously thrusting inside. 

Y/n then realised that he’d planted his feet on the bed for this position. She lifted her neck, floating high above the clouds in pleasure, waiting to fall and shatter. 

She couldn’t control her sounds. Whether it was a man or sigh or a groan, neither of them cared. She loved that both her and Azriel made their pleasure known and loud. 

Her head fell against his shoulder, incoherent cries leaving her as she tried to beg Azriel. She didn’t even know if she wanted him to stop or continue. 

Everything felt too good. The feel of his skin against hers. The sweat. The sounds. The hurried kisses. The grip on her hips. Being on top. And most of all—his cock. 

The harsh slapping of wet skin against skin contributed to her pleasure, reminding her again and again exactly what was happening. With a lewd moan, she found her pleasure.  

Azriel continued his unrelenting thrusts, his grip tightening as he came. He began stroking her hair and pressed a kiss to her temple. “My perfect girl.” 

They laid there in silence before Y/n began shivering. She was on top of him with no blanket covering her and the cold was getting to her. Goosebumps rose and she shivered before Azriel came out of his post-orgasm haze and realised what was happening. 

He immediately pulled the blanket over them, ensuring she was covered and she snuggled against him like a cat. 

Gods, she’d keep this man. 

Not just because she had real feelings for him or because the sex was fucking fantastic but because he was a great source of warmth. 

The warmth was a cosy feeling but his body in general was quite like a pavement. So once she gained her strength, Y/n moved to the side, choosing to settle there, curled against Azriel. He turned and caged her in his arms.

“What are you doing to me?” Azriel whispered against her ear. 

Y/n looked him in the eye and replied. “Probably whatever it is that you’re doing to me.”

****

Taglist:

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[1d1195]

Green Skies, Pink Grass

~2.6k words

From me: Going with another one shot for Monday. This very much jumps into the middle of a storyline that I'll never write but just wanted to post something small in between Most updates.

Warnings: jealousy, enemies(?) to lovers

Summary: It is very obvious Harry gets enjoyment out of irritating her. But not when she can't take it anymore.

“Excuse me,” she approached like she owned the table. She slid right between Harry and the girl that was talking to him. She stood at the corner of the square table made for four. But there were only two, Harry and the girl that had every right to be sitting at one of the right angles so they could be closer together.

For nearly the entire night, she watched another girl touch Harry’s arm and flirt with her eyes as they spoke. All while he leaned close and whispered God knows what. Who knew what secrets he was telling her. The stuff that she dreamed of knowing and not just figuring out from her friends or him taunting her. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Rebecca,” she stated and looked around her intruding body so she could peek at Harry. This was ridiculous. She was talking to him and there was no reason for her to have intruded like that and get in between Harry and him. Everyone knew they didn’t like each other. Of all the people that could have taken his attention from her it couldn’t have been the girl that wanted to wring his neck.

Her backside was directly in front of Harry’s vision. He paid nearly no mind to the intrusion—almost like he expected it. In fact, he took the moment to sip his drink because while he wasn’t proud of it, he was extremely grateful for the reaction it caused from her. All night he felt her stare from across the restaurant. Her gaze bored into him. It was painful how long it took to come to this in his opinion. Now he couldn’t wait to see what she was going to do next. She didn’t even flinch as she approached; her sure-footed steps had her heels clicking across the floor with a power that made Harry’s body warm over. The confidence she had was so sexy. The only thing that could have made the current interaction better than having her perfect ass right in front of his face, would have been being able to see her pretty, angry face as she glared at the girl he was chatting with. “Can I help you?” Becca asked.

Harry smirked, grateful neither one of them could see him because he was very much looking forward to this.

“Yeah, umm…” she swallowed that swagger and confidence suddenly wavering.

Harry wasn’t hers. Not by a long shot. They argued about almost everything there was to argue about. They had opposite movie tastes. He never took her suggestion for making dinner recipes better. His driving directions to get somewhere the fastest were always different than hers. She swore he would argue the sky was green if given half the chance. They weren’t that close, but Niall was her favorite coworker and quite possibly her best friend. But that meant she had to spend an infinite amount of time with his best friend, Harry.

She could have taken all his misgivings in stride, honestly. Tt wouldn’t have been that bad nor hard to have. She liked a bit of a challenge in her life. If Harry hadn’t looked down on her the first time that they met, they might not have been on this frustrating path of annoying one another.

It was no secret that Harry was one of the most gorgeous men she had ever met. His handshake was warm and firm but that was as far as his warmth went—at least when it came to her. She wasn’t oblivious to the way his voice sounded when he talked about his mum, sister, or niece. He donated to a ton of charities and was constantly helping his friends.

It was just her.

He was cold and standoffish the day they met. It hurt. Mainly because Niall told her that she would love him, and she was excited to make a new friend. How often did someone in their late twenties make new friends?

But after their introduction and awkward silences while Niall tried to get them chatting about their similarities instead of their differences, she overheard him whispering to Niall in the kitchen while they got plates and drinks for the pizza they ordered. Only catching some of the words that included dislike, irritating, and know-it-all. She prided herself on being kind, never making anyone feel inferior, but Harry made it seem like a fault and didn’t see her that way at all.

Harry wondered where she was possibly going to go with her irritation at Becca. Only moments before the evening began, she wanted to strangle him. He could see it in her eyes and knew she truly thought about wrapping her hands around his throat because he made some comment about her not getting fucked properly in front of Niall. He smiled impishly at her as the rage filled her eyes. It made her eye twitch in that cute way of hers. The way that made him want to keep pissing her off so it would continue twitching. Part of him wanted to reach out and touch just next to her eye and hope that it would make her crazier but also so he could ease that tension all the same.

But it was clear she was lost here. There was no follow through for this moment and seeing Miss Prim & Proper discombobulated was one of Harry’s favorite kinds of sights. But even still, she didn’t deserve to be this lost. It wasn’t her fault the little envious monster took hold of her without a way out of the situation.

“Hey love,” he hummed quietly, pressed a hand on her lower back. She stepped away like he shocked her—or stabbed her. Her eyes were wild as she glanced at Harry briefly. He smiled, his lips straining a little too much to keep him from smiling mischievously—just like before they entered the restaurant. That little quirk that made her eye start to twitch just the same as well.

 That stupid dimple, that knowing look. She wanted to strangle him again.

He knew what she was feeling all too well. Fortunately, it hadn’t happened tonight, but he knew the irksome feeling that heated his stomach and chest when anyone bought her a drink or complimented her smile while he was in earshot.

It was a beautiful smile, but it made him sick to hear other people say it to her and not him.

“Do you have something to say or what? I was talking to Harry.”

Perhaps the alcohol she had ingested was cause for the bravery that resulted in her walking across the restaurant and planning to tell the girl off. But what was she supposed to say? Harry wasn’t hers. There was nothing she could say that would deter Rebecca from spending time with him. Nothing to stop Harry from spending time with Rebecca.

It seemed Harry noticed she was floundering but for once he didn’t make fun of her nor antagonize her further. Instead, without warning, there was a warm hand on the small of her back. “Kitten,” he hummed. His voice was low, directly in her ear, and full of caution. “Let’s go,” he pressed his fingers into her back in effort to get her away from the table. “Sorry, Becca, I gotta go,” he grabbed his drink, tossing the remaining sip back and settling it back on the table.

She said nothing, glaring at her feet with heated cheeks. While the woman who had taken Harry’s attention but wasn’t going to keep it smiled bitterly. “You’re really going to leave? Just because she interrupted?” Harry ignored her, rolled his eyes but not even the girl he had his hands on could see it.

Harry’s lack of response made her burn with anger more and she wished she knew why she went over to interrupt them. Harry was behind her, his body so close to hers she thought a piece of paper couldn’t fit between them. “Wow can’t even fight back—”

She started to move back for Rebecca, but Harry yanked her closer to him. Not even a molecule of air could have fit between them, before she could even take a full step. His arm was wrapped around the front of her stomach, his lips went directly to her earlobe. “M’here, kitten. She’s not worth y’time,” he assured her. “Walk,” he ordered quietly. Normally, she would fight back and tell him not to order her around. But the alcohol in her system simultaneously subdued her anger toward Harry and amplified it toward everyone else. So she walked.

She could hear the way Rebecca laughed calling her pathetic loudly to anyone that walked by. Harry snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her tightly each time he heard one of Rebecca’s taunts and the following pull of her muscles to turn around to continue her chat with her.

Once they were out of the restaurant, he continued to usher her up the road away from the offensive restaurant. There was a cool chill in the air that hadn’t been there when they entered the venue. Confident she wouldn’t make a break for it and return to give Becca a piece of her mind, Harry released her briefly.

In an instant, he pulled his jacket off and draped it over her shoulders before wrapping his arm around her waist again. He gave her a warm squeeze then walked beside her; his other hand stuffed in his pocket. They didn't speak as they walked. After a block and a half, she bit the inside of her lip. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Harry hadn't ever heard an apology directed at him from her mouth. "Am I dead?" He murmured.

She sighed. "I don't know what came over me," she admitted.

Harry knew. He knew because he knew exactly how she was feeling. "Yeah," he nodded.

More silence followed and they just kept walking. The shoes she was wearing weren’t really conducive to a city walk but she was willing to have a blister on each toe and her heel if it meant Harry’s warm arm and a jacket that smelled like him was going to be wrapped around her. “Did you like her?” She asked.

Harry smirked. “She was fine.”

She swallowed. “I’m sorry,” she repeated.

“Kitten,” he chuckled. “She was fine, but I’d’ve much preferred you sitting next t’me all night.”

“But you don’t like me.”

Harry snorted. “Honestly, right now, I don’t. Think I could throw y’into traffic for such a remark. What are y’talking ‘bout, love? M’obsessed with you,” he rolled his eyes.

“Obsessed?”

“Obsessed.”

Her heart fluttered. She stopped walking. Mainly because her feet hurt, but also because she was floored that he admitted such a thing. After all the time she spent wondering why he taunted her and made her want to strangle him. Her voice shook as she asked her next question. Because it was mean spirited of him. “Is this a trick? Like that time Niall was setting me up on a date and you convinced me I got the date wrong, and I sat at the coffee shop for hours before—”

Harry chuckled at the memory. Proud of his handy work and grateful she didn’t go on a date with that prick (who was actually a really nice guy that probably deserved her more than Harry did). “No, s’not a trick.”

She was staring at him like he had ten heads and honestly there was nothing better than seeing her little eye twitch. “You like me?” She asked.

“Very much, kitten,” he nodded and stuffed both hands in his pockets while she processed this.

“Can we sit? These shoes are killing me,” she frowned. Harry followed her to the bench out in front of a closed café. He reached for her feet and unclipped the strap from one ankle then the other.

“You really like me?” She asked again while Harry untied his dress shoes. Harry had this thing about always wearing two pairs of socks. It alleviated blisters, of his own dress shoes and there had been countless times Gemma hated her own high heels after a long night at a family wedding. He slid off the top pair and put them on her feet without fanfare.

“I really like you,” he assured her.

“But you...” She frowned, her stomach aching at the kindness he was showing her. Finally. The nice thing about the cute little sock thing he was doing? She had never seen him do it for anyone else. This was a treat for her as far as she knew. He retied his shoes and settled her feet back to the sidewalk. He held her shoes beside him on the bench.

“I what?” His smile was adorable, mischievous as always, dimple appearing cutely in his left cheek, but it didn’t make her eye twitch and even though he missed it, he liked her soft expression, analyzing him more.

“You said I was a know-it-all. And... irritating.”

“You are irritating,” she glared at him so cutely, he wanted to take a picture of her and make it his phone background and print it on a poster to hang on the ceiling above his bed. “When did I call y’irritating?”

“When you met me. You said you disliked me."

He tilted his head. “Do y’mean at Niall’s?” She nodded. He was clearly processing that and tried to think back. She was finally quiet, while he thought. Didn't try to further their discussion because part of her thought she would turn it into an argument just by accident. “Is that why y’always keep me a foot away from you? Why y’never let me get a word in? Why y’argue with everything I say? Swear y’would tell me the grass is pink jus’ t’argue,” She didn’t dare dignify that with a response. Or that she felt the same way. Harry tugged her legs back up and shifted her so she draped across his lap. His arm around her back while her bum warmed his thigh. He brought his hand slowly up her leg, over the socks he had put on her that looked ridiculous with her dress. His fingers skimmed over her knee and up her thigh while his eyelids hooded his gaze as he followed the path of his hand. He tickled her skin, his fingers circling her wrist in her own lap before he brought it to his shoulder. Then he brought his fingers to her face, cupped her cheek in his palm. “I’m going t’kiss y’now,” he murmured. “Because m’not going t’explain how ridiculous y’are for thinking the first time I met you I called you irritating, or that I disliked you...or thought you were a know-it-all.”

She blushed. “Oh...” she swallowed feeling woozy Harry's face was so close to hers. He smelled so good. He looked so good.

“Don’t y’think it was much more likely I called Niall an irritating know-it-all that I would fall so hard for you and I disliked how right he was?” She remained silent, dropped her gaze again, until Harry tilted her chin up once more. “You are irritating,” he murmured his mouth a breath away from hers. He could feel the warmth of her lips pulling an invisible string to his. Like he had already touched them without touching them. “But I love when y’irritate me,” he assured her and closed that final breath between their lips.

The sky could be green. The grass could be pink. Harry was done arguing with her about it.

--

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[pianokantzart]

YES! GOOD! I’m going to just going to analyze the whole dinner scene, because it’s one of my favorite parts of the movie. 

Mario and Luigi walk in, and immediately the whole room lights up to greet them. Despite everything that follows, one thing is clear: The Mario Brothers are happy to see their family, and the family is happy to see them. 

The whole family confirms that they watched their commercial. Everyone except their mom insists the commercial was a bad idea, but the fact that they all watched it speaks to the fact that there is no indifference regarding Mario and Luigi’s dream. They’re eager to see where this endeavor leads, even if they think it’s going to end in failure. 

The moment Mario and Luigi sit down at the table, their uncles begin laying into them like it’s open season on financially struggling plumbers. Just full blown, no-holds-barred roast mode on their nephews.

Mario is on the defensive, but he doesn’t get angry, he’s just trying to argue his side. Clearly this is typical behavior for Uncle Tony and Uncle Arthur. They’re loud, overly honest, and obnoxiously confident in their opinions. Uncle Arthur, thankfully, has his wife to keep him in check. Uncle Tony, however, who is seated next to poor Luigi, is an absolute menace.

Luigi ignores all the teasing. He is only interested in getting food, but this is not an easy task. Tony’s verbal arguments are all directed at Mario, but Luigi is the one who gets prodded and shoved around, and that makes getting dinner next to impossible.

Luigi attempts to serve himself salad, attempts to ask for a roll, attempts to eat the mushrooms being put on his plate, and at every turn he’s either pushed away or talked over. He is clearly very soft spoken compared to the other men in his family, and never quite had the strength to stand up for himself... after all, everyone means well, they just lack self awareness. It isn’t worth the fight. 

Thankfully, Luigi’s mom comes to the rescue, and puts a bowl of soup in front of her boy. She’s the queen of the caretaker role, making sure all the loose ends are tied up and that everybody eats.

But on the flip side, it’s interesting to note that once the uncles start tearing into Mario, Mario’s Dad serves him up a plate of food. He may have just been serving the person next to him because that was the polite thing to do, but I have a theory...

I think that this wasn’t the first night that Mario and his uncles went at each other. I think Mario’s Dad read the room, and figured that if Mario was going to spend dinner playing defense, he should at least remember to eat while doing so.

It also speaks volumes that Mario’s Dad doesn’t voice his disapproval until Mario asks for his opinion. Before then he avoids the subject and lets everyone else do the talking, but so long as he’s being questioned directly, he can’t help but be honest.

“I think... you’re nuts. You don’t quit a steady job for some crazy dream.” This sounds like a voice of experience. Mario’s Dad has the figure of someone who has worked physical labor for a good portion of his life (look the size of those arms). He may have had dreams of his own when he was younger, but he had a wife and kids to worry about, and family took priority. 

Speaking of family taking priority: “... and the worst part? You’re bringing your brother down with you.” That settles it. The conversation has gone from a casual roast session to dead serious. The entire room falls quiet as Mario puts down his fork and storms off. 

“What’d I say?” Everybody at the table (except the niece, she’s long since checked out) gives Mario’s Dad different versions of the look™. Uncle Tony and Uncle Arthur have the same “Jesus Christ bro, you didn’t have to go there” expression, and Luigi just looks hurt on Mario’s behalf. His Dad, however, is just confused.  

He didn’t get the gravity of what he said. His relationship with his own brothers– loudmouthed schmucks who call their own shots – is completely alien to what Luigi and Mario have. He probably knows Mario is protective of Luigi, but he doesn’t realize the depth of responsibility Mario feels for him. Anyone can see that Luigi is loyal to his brother, but Mario alone knows how loyal he is, and the implication that he’s betraying that loyalty is intensely painful. 

I doubt Uncle Arthur and Uncle Tony truly relate to Mario and Luigi’s relationship either, but they’ve probably teased Mario enough to understand one thing: bringing Luigi into it is a line you do not cross.

Conclusion:

There is a lot of love in the Mario family.

Uncle Tony and Uncle Arthur are definitely the most insufferable of the bunch, but there is no malice in their teasing. While they are brash and overbearing, it’s all in good fun, and they get visibly uncomfortable when things go too far and someone actually ends up hurt. 

Luigi seems to take after his mother; kind, nonconfrontational, and happily invested in a supporting role. While his Mom cares for and assists the family, Luigi cares for and assists his brother, both emotionally and in his business ventures.

Mario, in the meantime, takes after his Dad, who appears to be the oldest of the three brothers. He doesn’t always think before speaking, but he isn’t constantly running his mouth like Arthur or Tony, and acts with the gravity of someone who bears a lot of responsibility. He doesn’t quite “get” his sons, but he knows enough to see that Luigi follows his brother everywhere, and Mario does not always think before jumping into things. Despite what Mario may believe, his Dad doesn’t see him as a “joke” so much as he sees him as an impulsive young man who doesn’t grasp the consequences of his actions. But Mario does understand the consequences of his actions, he just dreams big, and... thanks to Luigi... actually has the support he needs to pursue those dreams. 

[zepskies]

Lost on You - Part 5

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: We’re going deeper and darker on this one, with an ending you might not expect...

Word Count: 5.5K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. TW: attempted sexual assault (not successful), violence, character death, drug use, and a twist.

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Part 5: Eminence Front

Your last conversation with your mother was on a Sunday morning, in hospice.

You sat at her bedside and held her hand. Chris and your father were downstairs in the hospital food court, ordering sandwiches. You hadn’t had much of an appetite for three days.

“I had your father call the whole family so they could watch the music video with you and Soldier Boy,” your mom said. She wore a proud, if weak smile. “He even recorded a few tapes of it. He sent one to your aunt, another to your cousins, and another to our friends Leah and Stan.”

“Pretty sure that’s illegal piracy, Mom,” you said with a laugh.

“I don’t care. You’re my daughter, and you’ve worked incredibly hard to get here,” she said. Her eyes misted over a bit in memory. “We’ve all worked hard.”

You stilled at that. You didn’t know what memories she had filtering through her head, but you were sure your perspective behind the lens was…different.

In your mind’s eye, you saw yourself at twelve years old. Chris had been pestering you all day, as big brothers were wont to do sometimes. With a slap on his arm, you’d screamed at him to leave you alone.

He didn’t speak to you for a whole month. He didn’t go to your piano recital or your choir concert, where you had the best solo. He didn’t talk to you until you touched him again, grabbing his arm, pleading with him.

"Please, whatever I did, I'm sorry. Just talk to me!"

He startled as if he’d woken up from a dream.

Your parents had shared a look, and they’d known then that their gamble had worked.

You remembered being sat down by your mother and told that they had spent their entire life’s savings to make you a hero. So you were going to spend the rest of your young life training to be one.

“We’re investing in your future, but we’re also investing in ours.”

You remembered sleepover invites rejected and summer plans canceled on your behalf. Your mother used her meager retirement fund to sign you up for vocal lessons from a former opera singer. Your high school football coach father drilled you to condition your body like an athlete.

You never had a moment that wasn’t scheduled. You were always exhausted, taking whatever “supplements” your parents gave you to keep you going. (Often it was Adderall, until it started giving you insomnia, among other delightful side effects.)

You were miserable. Then again, you’d be surprised by what you could get used to.

The end goal was always getting into Payback. It was where you’d garner the most fame and make the most money, and therefore, make the most returns on your parents’ investments.

So your father later took out a loan to get you some basic combat training from an ex-Vought employee. Your parents wanted you to be well-rounded and prepared for anything when you got onto the team—and it was always when.

If was not part of the story.

Any small commercials and modelling gigs you landed throughout middle school and high school helped pay for your family’s bills, and later for college, where you double majored in Vocal Performance and Marketing. You would learn how to become your own brand.

Through it all, you always remembered what your mom had said to you on the set of your first commercial. You were crying because the hours were long and you missed your friends, and even your brother.

“Come on, let’s wipe those tears. You don’t want to smudge your makeup,” she’d said. When you couldn’t be consoled, she guided you over to a quieter corner of the set. “Listen, sweetheart. Don’t let them see you upset. You'll get a reputation for being difficult to work with.”

“I don’t care! I don’t want to do this anymore,” you said, sniffling badly as you scrubbed at your eyes. Your mother sighed sharply.

“You’re just starting out. Of course there are going to be growing pains,” she said. “Showbusiness is a cutthroat world, and yes, you’re so young. Maybe too young.”

She wiped your face with gentler hands, then she laid them on your shoulders and made sure you met her eyes.

“But you’re going to be better prepared than most superheroes. You can literally read men. You know what’s in their hearts, and you can control them. As a woman in this world, do you know how damn powerful that is?” she said.

She squeezed your shoulders.

“That’s why you’ll be smarter than any of them, and you’ll only show the world what you want them to see.”

What you want them to see…

“We don’t have to talk about that right now,” you said at last.

Your mom nodded and stroked your hand. Her eyes fell closed in rest. She looked so small and frail in her bed.

“I’m so, so proud of you,” she said. “Always remember that.”

Your lower lip trembled, and your eyes stung. You couldn’t help but feel hollow. What was there to be proud of? You’d failed. All your hard work was meant to give your family a better life, not…this.

“You’re so beautiful and talented,” she continued. “And you’ll get your father out from under these medical bills I put on him, won’t you?”

Deep in your soul, a painful ache twinged.

You ignored it and nodded in agreement.

“I’ll take care of Dad, don’t worry.”

Your mother died the next morning. You wrote a statement about her passing to explain your absence to your fans. It went through Madelyn Stillwell and Arthur before they released the press release and even had it covered in Vought News. Then you spent the next week entrenched in funeral arrangements with your father and brother.

When you eventually returned to Vought Tower after the funeral, it felt like another part of you had chipped off.

Your room was filled with flowers and gifts from your fans, which managed to make you wide-eyed, and even tearfully touched. So this was the power of fame, then?

But there was one vase filled with beautiful scarlet roses. Attatched was a handwritten note:

Welcome home.

You thought you recognized the scrawl. A small smile graced your lips.

You gave into the desire to venture up to the penthouse floor, and knock on Ben’s door. He opened it himself. He was dressed down for once in the afternoon, in a normal sweater rolled up to his elbows and tucked into his slacks. Once he saw you, he was a little surprised.

You held up the note for his view. “Was this you?”

He smiled slightly, but he didn’t answer you. He just welcomed you inside. You followed him into the living room area and sat heavily on the couch. An album was playing on his record player. You recognized Sinatra’s smooth voice singing “My Way.”

“You want a drink?” Ben asked.

“Whiskey, neat,” you replied. He rose a brow, but he fulfilled your request.

While he was busy, you grabbed his forgotten half a blunt from the ashtray on the coffee table, and you lit up. You didn’t often partake in drugs because you didn’t like being out of your lucid mind. You preferred being in control.

Today was different. You needed a distraction. Maybe that was why you were here to begin with.

You accepted the glass he handed to you and took a generous sip, though you coughed at the burn on the way down. And you took a puff, the smoke irritating your throat even more. You practically coughed up half a lung, until he sat down beside you and reached out his hand. You passed the blunt back to him. You two traded off hits until it was more than halfway down to the roach, and he eventually put it out on the ashtray.

“My offer still stands, you know,” he said.

You turned to him. Even in your “enlightened” state, you could feel his intentions. The way he roamed your body with his eyes was unmistakable, but just then, you had a moment of clarity. You couldn’t be bothered to play this game, or hide your true thoughts for that matter. You smiled to yourself, and you stood.

Ben got up with you, trying to gauge your reaction.

“Thank you,” you said, “for finally showing me who you really are.”

His lips slowly pulled into a frown. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“My mom died,” you said. “I know you knew that, but you couldn’t even muster up a basic ‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ or whatever the fuck.”

You even laughed through the spark of tears. You wiped at your face. “This place is exactly what I thought it would be.”

The man was silent while you finished the drink in one long gulp. You slammed the glass on his counter, and you left his apartment.

It wasn’t the first time Ben watched you walk away from him, but despite his outward stoicism, it was the first time he felt the sting of it.

You knew it would be difficult at Vought, but you were finding it more and more challenging to keep focused as the months went by.

On one mission, Ben threw a man out of a three-story apartment. He lived, by some miracle, but shattered almost every bone in his body.

On another, Black Noir choke-slammed an escaped convict so hard, her esophagus caved in. And it was a good day if the TNT Twins even zapped the right culprit.

You were increasingly wary of the collateral damage and violence you were being complicit in, just by being there. You had to keep reminding yourself of why you were here. You needed to take care of your father, who was still swimming in your mother’s medical bills and funeral costs. You needed to prove to yourself that you could do this, with or without Ben’s help.

Even so, a day you were called to a full team mission made you more anxious than excited.

It was a drug ring that the police had been trying to dismantle for nearly a decade: Los Reyes. They were the "kings of cocaine," and they were brutal in their retaliations, locked in a turf war with one of the Italian mafias. As Stan Edgar had explained, the police were grateful for any help that Payback could provide.

You guys were sent to a warehouse in Hell’s Kitchen. According to law enforcement intel, it was the base of the Reyes gang's operations.

Infiltrating it was the easy part. Countess blasted right through the front doors, revealing your entire team to the group of men huddled around entire tables and crates filled with product.

When a man aimed a gun at you, Ben threw his shield. It hit the man, who then crashed into a support beam and broke his back in half. Your eyes went wide in horror at seeing his lifeless ones. You gaped up at Ben.

“Was that really necessary?” you asked in alarm.

"Would you rather get shot?” he said coolly.

The others picked off a few men in the room, but the rest of the gang scattered into other rooms within the large building. Ben barked commands for who should go in which direction.

“Sirena, you’re with Swatto. Head east towards the alley and cut off any rats,” he commanded.

You wanted to take issue with being partnered with Swatto. You glanced over at him. After how you compelled him a few months ago, he still had a grudge against you as well. But you two knew better than to argue with Soldier Boy on a mission.

You and your partner ducked out the east side into the alley. Sure enough, you saw blood splatters on the wall from a handprint, and drips of blood leading down the concrete path. After sharing a nod, you and Swatto followed the line of blood.

You turned the corner into a dusty construction site, where a new skyscraper was only partially built. Some walls were up along with the foundation, but it was mostly dirt, bare concrete walls, and piles of brick.

When you turned a corner, you and Swatto stopped short as bullets rained your way.

“Oh, fuck!” Swatto shouted. He pulled out his gun and decided to fly above. You heard more shots and men screaming, and then, it was quiet. You cocked your own gun, though you hoped you didn’t have to use it. The problem with your powers was you needed to be close enough to touch someone to actually compel them, man or woman.

Your last resort was your actual siren song, a power you rarely used. Mainly because it was lethal to any man who heard it. For that reason, it had to be your in case of emergency break glass tactic.

So you crept around the corner to see what Swatto had done. You were surprised to find that he fought well. He managed to kill a few of them, but one large man was still alive. He was on his knees in the dirt with his hands folded behind his head.

“See? Ain’t so fuckin’ tough now, huh?” Swatto taunted. “Get ready to get fucked in the ass in jail, Paco.”

You grimaced in disgust. “All right, that’s enough. Just—”

Before you could realize what was happening, the man raised up from the ground and swept the gun from Swatto’s hands. It flew across the clearing and hit the wall, setting the gun off. A bullet ricocheted and grazed Swatto in the side. 

“Aw, fuck! I’m fucking hit!” he yelled in alarm. His wings expanded from his back, and he raised off the ground in flight. Your eyes widened.

“Where the hell are you going?” you shouted.

“I’m hit! I need a hospital!” His voice grew smaller as he flew away like a fucking coward.

It left you alone with a man twice your size. He seized you up with a smirk.

“Hey, baby,” he said. “You’re the new one, right?”

You raised your gun and fired, but you were too late. He evaded and grabbed the gun from your hands. You held your ground after the first punch, but the second and third made your legs shake. You were more durable than the average human, and you were well trained. Unfortunately, you didn’t have super strength like most of your teammates.

You blocked when you could and gave blows of your own, but this man was large enough that it didn’t slow him for long. He wore a sweatshirt with long sleeves, so you couldn’t easily compel him with a touch.

Okay, this warrants an emergency, you thought in alarm. When you opened your mouth to sing, he shot out a sharp blow to your throat. Maybe he thought you were going to scream for help, but it had its intended effect of choking you into silence.

He grabbed you and proceeded to beat you down, until you felt the sharp breaking of ribs and blood and dirt in your mouth. Every time you tried to slip away or get to your feet and escape, he knocked you back down. He was toying with you, and having fun with it too. You could sense his sick enjoyment.

But then, you felt his intentions shift. Darker, and more carnal. A more intense fear coiled in your stomach, rising up into your throat. A gasp got stuck there as you tried harder to crawl away.

He grabbed your ankle and dragged you back towards him. He took your wrists when you tried to claw at his eyes, or even just touch his face to try and enforce your power over his.

Just a scrap of skin. That’s all you need.

A whimper escaped you as you struggled, but you kneed him hard between the legs. That managed to stop him for a moment as he grunted and cursed. He got a hold of a meaty hand around your neck. Your eyes glowed in desperation.

Suddenly, the man’s weight lifted off you.

You panted for breath and raised yourself up on your elbow. You watched with wide eyes as Ben slammed your attacker’s face into the dirt until he couldn’t breathe. Ben glanced at you, taking in the sight of your bloody face and cut lip, your arm wrapped around your battered ribs.

His frown deepening in displeasure, he bent the man’s arm until it broke in at least two places. His howls of pain echoed into the night. Ben cut it off by twisting the man’s neck, until it released a loud crack.

He threw the body to the ground in disgust. He barely even wiped his gloves before he stood straighter. Then he went back to you.

“You all right?” he asked gruffly.

You stared up at him with tears shining in your eyes. You tried to answer, but it hurt your throat. It was also painful for you to move your body. You tasted blood in your mouth and knew it had dribbled down your chin.

With a rough exhale through his nose, Ben lowered down and slid his hands underneath your body. You cringed and cried out when he moved you, but you were grateful. You were embarrassed. And you were exhausted.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you folded your arms over your battered middle. You couldn't help but lay your head against his chest.

The rest of the team was waiting at the other end of the clearing, except for Swatto. Even Countess was quiet as she watched Ben carry you out of the construction site.

You spent a couple of days in the hospital. There you were surrounded by Vought security fielding off any journalists or tabloids, and you were accompanied by your dad and brother.

Chris especially was angry for you, not to mention worried, but you tried to hide your pain and reassure them that you would be okay. This was just par for the course when taking down the bad guys.

Yeah, that one sounded hollow, even to you.

You were grateful when you got out of the hospital and were sent back to the Tower. Even so, the doctor had you mostly on bedrest until your ribs healed up. You weren’t proud of it, but you wallowed in your embarrassment and a bit of self-pity while you watched a marathon of Cheers and ate from a box of assorted chocolates. You dug around for your favorites, but you kept getting the weird shitty filling ones.

“Sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name, and they’re always glad you came,” sang the TV show theme song. “You wanna be where you can see, our troubles are all the same. You wanna be where everybody knows your name…” 

“Bullshit,” you muttered aloud. Such was your grouchiness that you had half a mind to change the channel. This godforsaken sitcom was too damn cheery, no matter how much you loved Ted Danson’s fine, rugged ass.

God. Maybe I do have a type.

That was when a knock at the door threatened to disrupt your solitude.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me.”

You’d now recognize that smooth, deep voice anywhere. Sighing, you closed the box of chocolates and hid them under your pillow before you turned off the TV.

“Come in,” you said.

Ben stepped into your apartment and soon found you in your room. It was the first time he’d ever been in here, and he took a subtle look around. He wore his suit and tactical gear.

“Just come from a mission?” you asked.

He nodded and approached your bed. He smiled slightly.

“Eating your feelings in Whitman’s, huh?” he teased, tapping his nose. He could probably smell the chocolate.

You blushed and crossed your arms on reflex, but you grimaced when the motion made your ribs twinge sharply. You made a sound of discomfort and lowered your arms back to your sides. You shifted in the bed as slowly as you could. You’d been in this position for a while.

“How’re you holding up?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m peachy,” you groused. When you looked up at him though, you realized that he hadn't needed to come visit you. He was here of his own free will…and there was something you had yet to say to him. You sighed and met him with sincerity.

“Look…thank you, for saving me,” you said.

Ben inclined his head. He lowered down and sat beside you on the edge of your bed.

“You may not like how I run things here, but this is the way of it,” he said, holding your gaze. “This is the real fucking world. If you’re going to stay here, you need to get with that program, or this place is going to chew you up and spit you out.”

That fell between you two for a moment. The more you turned his words over in your mind, the more you realized that he was right, to a point. If you stayed, this was your life. You couldn’t keep handwringing. You had to be smarter.

“I’m sorry, I’m not looking very camera ready,” you said eventually. You meant it to be joking, but your voice was heavy. “I wouldn’t blame you for averting your eyes.”

You half expected him to make a joke about your black eye and torn lip. But to your surprise, Ben picked up your hand with a kind of gentleness. He raised the back of it up to his lips for a kiss. He gave you a reserved smile.

“Rest up,” he said.

He got up and strode out of your apartment. Not for the first time, he left you feeling unbalanced…and this time warm.

It took a few weeks for you to fully heal. You agreed to do an interview with Jason Carver, the anchor of Vought News. It was a bit intimidating being in yet another studio, and this was live.

The cameras aren’t there. This is just a stage like any other. You’re just…having a conversation, you coached yourself. You sat in an uncomfortable leather chair across from Jason at his desk.

When he got the green light from the producer, he kicked off the show by introducing you as his special guest.

“Can I just say, Sirena, we’re all very glad to see you’re all right,” he said, with a very convincing note of sincerity. Your abilities allowed you to read the truth.

Only show them what you want them to see.

You gave him a grateful smile.  

“Thanks, Jason. I appreciate that. It’s just…hazards of the job description, you know?” you said. “But I’m doing much better, and I’m very thankful that my team was there to support me.”

“Yes, the rest of Payback really stepped up to not only apprehend your attacker, but round up the entire Reyes gang. Is that right?” he said.

You nodded, reading the teleprompter. You were meant to go on a mini monologue about how great your team was, and how grateful you were to be a part of it. It was a script approved by Madelyn, and even Stan Edgar.

You paused, glancing over to where Arthur and Madelyn stood in the dark with the rest of the crew. They were both looking at you encouragingly, but expectant.

You took a steadying breath, and you decided to go a bit off-script.

“Well, actually, it was Soldier Boy who saved me,” you said. Jason’s brows rose at your shift in direction, but he reacted with all due interest.

“Really?” he prodded.

“Yes, he did,” you said. The memories of that night filtered through your mind with harrowing detail, including the way Ben stepped in and brutally handled that man. “He didn’t even hesitate. He just threw himself into the fray…and when it was over, he carried me to the hospital himself.”

That part wasn’t exactly true. He’d carried you over to a Vought-owned SUV, and the director of the camera crew drove you over to the hospital. You decided to gloss over that detail, and many others.

“Wow,” Jason said. He shook his head in wonder. “He truly lives up to the legend, doesn’t he?”

You smiled. “He’s more than that. Believe it or not, Soldier Boy was the first one to take me under his wing. He knew I was new to the city, so he guided me all over New York to see the sights like a tourist. Stuff I’m sure he’s seen millions of times, like Top of the Rock and Times Square. Oh, and he was also very gracious when my nephew came to visit. Got me some major brownie points for ‘Best Aunt in the World.’”

That earned you a congenial smile from your host. Your expression faded with a kind of weight in your heart.

“Ever since I got here, he’s been the one to tell it like it is, with that deep, authoritative voice of his,” you said, laughing a little when you tried to imitate Ben’s voice. It got you a laugh, even from those in the studio. “In a way, he’s the one who’s looked out for me the most. I’m very grateful for Soldier Boy, and of course for the rest of my team.”

When you finished, Jason nodded and clapped along with everyone else in the studio.

“Well, that’s just wonderful. Well said,” he said, and he looked straight into the camera with two fingers poised at his temple. “Soldier Boy, if you’re watching, we all appreciate you. And we salute you.”

Ben watched the clip from his living room with a small, incredulous smile on his face.

He wiped the remnants of white powder from his nose and sneezed. Blinking the bleariness out of his eyes, he refocused on the screen while you talked about him. He knew you had to be playing it up for Jason and the cameras, but you also seemed so sincere.

“He’s more than that.”

After the segment was over, he enjoyed the climax of his high while sitting back on his plush sofa. He tossed up an old baseball from his collection up towards the ceiling, this one signed by Babe Ruth. He caught it when gravity pulled it back down towards his face.

That was how Donna found him when she let herself into his apartment. She was out of her suit and wearing a little red dress, one of his old favorites. She graced him with a sultry smile.

“Busy?” she asked.

“Evidently,” he said.

She pouted, almost like a little girl. She went to him and curled herself under his arm and against his chest, draping a smooth thigh over his.

“I miss you,” she purred.

He smiled wryly and turned off the TV.

“Really now?” he drawled. “Because by my calculations it’s been…what, a few months since we’ve fucked?”

Donna paused, the smile slipping from her face.

“And I’m not counting that hand job a couple weeks back. That shit was pitiful, and a little chafing,” he said.

For the past few months, he’d been wracking his brain to remember what it was that had attracted him to this woman, besides the obvious outer packaging. He knew the difference now.

In the beginning, she idolized him. Worshipped him. Loved him. These days, she only came to him when she wanted something, and he had gotten bored. Bored of her.

As if sensing his shift, Donna moved her leg off his lap and sat up with a frown.

“Well, then let me fix it,” she said, as she slid a hand up his thigh. Suddenly she was all too willing to use those red-painted lips to service him. 

Ben couldn’t help but envision those lips as yours, a sinful red, while your mouth did sinful things. He’d gotten off more than once to the thought of it alone, ever since he shot that goddamn music video with you.

So he grabbed Donna’s wandering hand and looked at her coolly.

“Look, for whatever reason, I know you’re not happy,” he said, waving dismissively with his other hand. “Neither of us are. So let’s just stop wasting time.”

Her eyes widened. “What’re you saying?”

Ben’s brows furrowed. “Am I speaking fucking English? It’s time to call it quits, sweetheart.”

Donna’s jaw worked as she fought to keep herself under control. He had a feeling she’d be angry. She always was a little spitfire.

Her body was coiled like a spring when she withdrew her hand from his and got to her feet. She gave him an icy look.

“This isn’t going to last,” she claimed, with a prideful tilt of her chin. “In a month, a week, you’ll get tired of her. And you’ll remember that I’m the one who looks best by your side.”

Ben huffed in amusement before he laid back again. He continued to toss up his baseball.

“Keep telling yourself that,” he said dismissively. 

Donna let loose an aggravated breath, but she kept most of her reaction inside. She turned on her heel, prideful as ever, and left his apartment.

When her fingers landed on the doorknob, however, she turned back for just a moment. Silence greeted her.

It wasn’t until then that her tears finally bubbled over.

Days later, a knock on your door drew your attention out of pulling on some jeans. You were intending to go on a walk through the city, take some time to get out of the Tower and just be you for a change.

That had better not be Madelyn at the door again. She had chastised you for going off-script at the studio twice already. She made the point that she and Stan had gone over those talking points for weeks, and agreed that framing your rescue as a team effort would cover Swatto as well.

He was still laid up with a broken leg, long after the scrape of the bullet had healed. He was tight-lipped about how he’d broken said leg, but you’d heard from Tommy that he’d shattered it…somehow.

Arthur had smoothed things over about your adlib though. He pointed out that talking positively about Soldier Boy helped the whole team. He was the leader, after all.

So yeah, you hoped this visit wasn’t another passive aggressive dress down from the head of PR. You sighed and went over to get the door. You were thoroughly surprised to see Ben.

And a Ben that was wearing a regular suit, for that matter. He looked like he’d stepped out of a Hugo Boss catalogue, steeped in charcoal gray with a long black coat draped over his arm. Your mouth parted in soft shock, especially when he produced a single rose from behind his back.

You took it with tentative fingers and a blush rising hotly in your cheeks.

“Okay, what—”

“Let me take you out,” he said. “One night. You’ll get to see what it’s like to be with the most famous man in the world.”

What an opening line that was. You sensed he was in full Charm City mode, complete with a suave smile. Yours was more amused, even though you twisted the flower's soft petals lightly on your chin in contemplation.

After a few seconds to think, you gave him a patient look.

“Ben, nothing’s changed for me. I told you, I–”

“Countess and I are done, for real this time,” he said.

Once again, you were taken by surprise—mostly because he was telling the truth. You felt it.

Your brows knitted together in confusion. “When did this happen?”

“Recently,” he shrugged. “But like I said, it hasn’t been working for a while. It was a mutual thing.”

You weren’t so sure about that, but… 

This is what I wanted, you reminded yourself. In fact, it had been half what you’d hoped for when you went off-script. You just couldn’t believe it had worked this well, so soon. As much as you probably shouldn’t, part of you began to feel bad for manipulating him. For lying to him.

But it’ll be good for my career.

“…Okay,” you agreed, glancing down at your plain shirt and jeans. “Just give me some time to change.”

He raised a brow. “How much time?”

You gave him a slightly cheeky smile. “An hour, and I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

He sighed, but he agreed.

“Just don’t keep me waiting all fucking day,” he said.

“Come on. What’s a little delayed gratification?” you teased. Then you gave him a more sincere smile. “I’ll see you later.”

Ben nodded, with some added charm in the look he gave you in return.

You slipped back into your apartment and shut the door. You paused there when a thought struck you.

Shit, now what am I going to wear?

AN: Did you see that one coming?

A lot of darker angst and drama in this one, sorry for that. But I think you may like what's coming up...

Next Time:

You slid your hand over his on the table. You felt him stiffen slightly, his body tensing up at your touch. You frowned when you saw the glint of wariness cross his face.

“I won’t compel you again, Ben. I promise,” you said. As long as you don’t give me a reason to.

Your hand traveled up his arm, soothing along his neck, your palm finally resting against his cheek. His green eyes stared into yours.

Soon enough, his wariness bled away into desire.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 6

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[birdiewriteslit]

“on the down low”

harry james potter x f!weasley!reader

no voldemort au

summary: you and harry have been hiding your relationship from your family for four months, but when he stays over for the holidays, they start to uncover the truth, one by one.

warnings: idk how long this is but it feels long, kissing, fluff, CHRISTMAS

me pretending voldemort doesn’t exist again for the sake of plot convenience and my own happiness

Godric, you hadn’t realized how hard it would be to pretend over the holiday. At first, it seemed like a dream come true. Harry staying at the burrow for Christmas meant you’d be able see him whenever you wanted, but you couldn’t exactly do what you wanted.

During the day, you and Harry had to act indifferent to each other, like you hadn’t been together since the end of the summer.

It was different than it was at Hogwarts, where nobody suspected a seventh year to go for her brother’s best friend, who was a year younger. That excluded Hermione, of course, who was just too damn smart to not figure you out.

You hadn’t realized how easy it was to sneak around in a giant castle with a multitude of empty classrooms and an invisibility cloak at your disposal compared to your house of nine other people where the walls were thin and the furniture was old, regardless of proximity between you.

You kicked Harry’s foot under the dinner table. He looked up from his plate and stared at you, bewildered. You nodded to your mother who had just asked him a question he clearly hadn’t heard.

She looked at him expectantly, waiting for his response. “Sorry?” He took his gaze away from you and onto Molly.

“Harry, I asked you if you’ve gotten yourself a girlfriend this year?” she clarified.

Harry spluttered, glancing at you quickly before looking back at her. He cleared his throat. “No, I haven’t.”

Your mother tutted. “A shame, really. Let’s hope you don’t end up like Charlie. Such a handsome boy, and yet, he can’t find a nice woman to settle down with,” she sighed and turned her attention to your older brother, who was rolling his eyes.

Harry looked relieved that he was no longer the one being questioned. “Mum, stop it. I’m only 22. I’m too young to settle down. Bill’s older and he’s not married.”

Bill stopped mid bite to gesture violently at Charlie to cut it out, but Molly paid him no mind.

“Spend your whole life with dragons, see if I care,” she responded vehemently. “Let’s hope your sister doesn’t go off with you to Romania when she graduates.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes as you became your mother’s new subject of torture. It was true, you were looking into a career with dragons, but it was unlikely you’d end up on the same reserve as your brother.

“You know, darling, you ought to find a nice boy. It would do you well.”

You grimaced. “And here we are, back to your favorite topic.”

“Not mine,” Fred interjected.

“Certainly not,” George added. “She’s not allowed to date.”

“Oh, she’s not, is she?” Ginny said, giving you a seemingly knowing look. Merlin, you could only hope she knew nothing.

“No, and neither are you, Gin,” Fred said swiftly.

“We’ll that’s unfortunate,” Ginny looked at you smugly. “Because I think our sister has had her eye on someone.”

Harry turned paler than normal, looking at you in alarm, his face saying, ‘Did you tell her?’ Hermione, to his side, gave you a similar look.

Your face heated under the eyes of your entire family. You shot Ginny a glare before deciding to get her back. “That’s what you think, but I know you bloody well fancy Dean Thomas.”

The focus shifted from you to Ginny. “Dean Thomas?” said Ron, staring at your sister in astonishment.

“Who’s Dean Thomas?” your mother asked cheekily.

Ginny groaned, hiding her red face in her hands. “I’m excusing myself. Goodnight, family.”

She stood up from the crowded table and basically threw her plate into the sink before running upstairs.

“Seriously, who’s Dean Thomas?” your mum asked for the second time.

“A boy in Ron’s year,” you explained briefly. “He’s perfectly decent,” you elaborated further, once you realized your family’s eyes were unrelenting.

“Well, who does she think you fancy?” Bill said, grinning. Why did the first thing he contributed during this conversation have to target you? Why couldn’t it have been revenge on Charlie?

“How should I know? I haven’t told her anything that would make her think I was interested in anyone.” That was a lie. You did tell her something.

“Are you?” Bill followed up.

“That’s really none of your business,” you said, standing up from the table and clearing your plate.

“As long as it’s not someone in our year, that’s what I say.” Ron nudged Harry, looking at his friend who nodded weakly.

You began to walk up the stairs, but not before shooting Harry a look that pleaded him to come upstairs when he could get away. Because of your circumstances, you’d gotten very good at giving each other wordless glances like these.

A little while later, a pajama clad Harry entered your room, checking the hall for anyone before closing the door behind him.

“Ron thinks I’m in the bathroom. Did you tell Ginny about us?” he said hurriedly.

“Of course not,” you denied. “I may have given her a hint though.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “What?”

“I didn’t mean to! She was talking about Dean, and asked me if I liked anybody, and who am I to lie, so I said yes.”

“Um,” Harry interjected. “One problem with that is that we lie about our relationship every day. You are a liar.”

“Don’t interrupt me, Harry. Anyway, she asked me who and I wouldn’t tell her, so she started listing names. She asked me what I thought of you, and I let it slip that I thought you were cute,” you said sheepishly, toying with a button on his shirt. “I think I scared her off with the Dean thing, we should be in the clear.”

Harry only grinned. “You think I’m cute?”

“Oh shut up, would you?” you said, pushing his chest away from yours.

“Sure.” He pulled you back by the waist, his hands resting on your hips as he ducked down to kiss you. He tasted like toothpaste, but you really didn’t mind it.

He was about to pull away after a moment, but you tangled your fingers in his hair, keeping his mouth attached to yours.

“I’ve missed you all day,” Harry murmured against your lips.

“Godric, me too.” You clung onto him like you knew it wouldn’t last, and it didn’t. Ron called out to Harry from somewhere in the hallway, and Harry pulled away from you. His glasses were fogged up and he was cursing Ron.

When the lenses cleared, he leaned down to press another chaste kiss to your lips. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he whispered, exiting the room quietly.

You slumped onto your bed, staring at the open door with a forlorn look on your face. Ginny suddenly appeared in the doorway, her mouth hanging open and her hand pointing to the end of the hall, then to where you sat.

“What- what have I just witnessed? Why? This changes life as we know it. You! And Harry! You-“

You hurried to cut her off, standing from the bed and practically sprinting to the door to cover her mouth. “You be quiet now,” you warned, looking both ways in the hall and shoving Ginny inside your room.

“Why did I see Harry leaving this room looking like he’s got something to hide?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Listen, lady, you didn’t see anything, because nothing happened,” you said, pointing a finger at her.

“I never said anything happened, I just said he had something to hide. And guess what? I know he has something to hide, because I know you like him,” she retaliated, pointing her finger right back.

“Who? Me? Like Harry? Psssshhh… you’ve got the wrong girl. That doesn’t sound anything like me.”

Ginny folded her arms over her chest. “Oh really? Well, does this sound like you? Oh, Ginny, Harry’s just so cute! I wish he would like me back because, well, I just love him so much!” She batted her eyelashes, imitating a version of you that didn’t exist.

“Actually, Gin, that sounds nothing like me, so you can just forget anything that you think you saw,” you retorted.

“I don’t think I will forget. I think I’ll just tell everyone that you’re sneaking around with Harry. I didn’t miss the look he gave you at dinner either! So I can tell everyone, or you can quit lying and just give me all the details.”

She did have a way of getting you to cave. Really, it was just tactful manipulation.

“Alright fine, but if you tell anyone, you’re dead. Well, you can tell Hermione. She already knows.”

Ginny gasped, very offended. “You told her before your own sister?”

“I did not! She’s too smart for her own good. Anyways, sit down.”

Then, you told Ginny everything. It felt actually good to be able to talk about your relationship to someone other than Hermione, especially to your only sister, who you were honestly very grateful for.

You told her about how he kissed you a week before you left for school, solidifying the relationship you were having throughout the summer holiday. You told her about how he was funny and such a gentlemen. You even told her about how you’d been sneaking off since school started, and what you’d been doing.

Once Ginny was fully satisfied with the information and you were relatively sure she wouldn’t squawk to any of your brothers, she bid you goodnight and went to bed.

The following morning, Christmas Eve morning, you had risen later than usual. “Good morning, family,” you greeted, entering the kitchen and heading straight for the kettle.

“Morning,” Ginny said from the table. “I trust you slept well. I expect you feel loads lighter now.”

“Oh yeah, much lighter,” you grinned back.

“What are you two on about?” Bill said from his seat across from Ginny.

“Oh, nothing. Our sister just shared some interesting things with me last night,” she hummed.

You saw Harry’s head perk up from the couch, where he was laying. Ron was sprawled on the floor below.

“Gin, shut up,” you warned quietly.

“I’m not even sure I want to know,” Bill said.

“Oh, you’d be delighted, I’m sure. But, alas, I’ve been sworn to secrecy,” Ginny sighed.

“Then why even bring it up, you idiot?” you said as you sat down next to her, carefully eyeing a nervous looking Harry.

Bill followed your gaze and whistled lowly. You almost had a heart attack. “I see. That is very interesting.”

You turned to face your sister. “Look what you’ve done now. Why not just shout it from the rooftops?” you scolded.

“I didn’t say anything!” she defended.

“She’s right, you gave yourself away,” Bill confirmed, leaning in to whisper, “You’re lucky Ron’s pretty clueless on the floor over there.”

Your face burned. “Just don’t tell anybody.”

“Now why would I do that? It’s a whole lot more fun if you do it yourself.” Bill grinned, leaving you and Ginny at the table.

You dropped your head into your arms.

Later, you and Harry sat in the yard, leaning against a tree. You were on the side that couldn’t be seen from your siblings’ makeshift quidditch game across the yard.

It was the nicest day of break so far, not too cold, but not necessarily warm either. There was a dusting of snow on the ground, which delighted you.

You were lying in Harry’s lap, gazing up at him as he mindlessly played with your hair. “I can’t believe you told Ginny,” he said for the tenth time since breakfast.

You rolled your eyes and sat up. “I already told you, she was nagging me. Plus, I can’t really talk to Hermione about this sort of thing. She’s hung up on Ron. I keep telling her Lavender was just a phase because of some stupid love potion infused chocolate, but she usually just goes glum and ignores me.”

“You could just stop talking about us,” he suggested, shrugging his shoulders.

“You wouldn’t understand,” you said, reaching forward to fiddle with the zipper on his jacket.

“Why? Am I too charming and handsome for you to shut up about?” He grinned, taking hold of your hand and pressing it to his chest.

“Something like that.” You smiled, but quickly stopped when you saw the smug look on his face. “Don’t let that get to your head, Potter.”

“I won’t,” he said, leaning in to kiss your lips. His free hand came up to frame your face, and you placed yours on his thigh. You had half a mind to pull away, but only enough to see his face.

“Harry, we can’t do this out here. My siblings are right over there. Someone could see us,” you said softly, staring up at his bright green eyes.

“Honey, if you keep looking at me like that, I’m not gonna care,” he said, breath heavy as he looked at you adoringly. Your stomach did flips and you instantly forgot about reasons to hold yourself back.

You surged forward, kissing him hard on the mouth. You knew you wouldn’t get the chance to do so until well after dinner, so you took advantage of your siblings being distracted. He responded enthusiastically, wrapping an arm around your waist, tugging you closer.

“Woah, looks like I’ve caught more than just the snitch!”

You sprang apart, wiping your mouth as you looked up to see one of your grinning brothers, hovering above the tree on a broomstick holding a little golden sphere.

“Charlie! This isn’t what it looks like,” you managed, pushing yourself as far away from Harry as possible.

“Really, because it looks like you’ve been snogging his face off,” Charlie said, looking pleased with himself.

Harry burned bright red, refusing to make eye contact with either of you.

“Charlie, what’s taking you so long?” you heard Ron call from the other side of the yard.

“I’ll keep this a secret, but only because I love you, little sister. And because it’s funnier this way.” Charlie grinned again and turned on his broom to speed back to the group.

You and Harry left for the house before anyone else did, completely ignoring Hermione on the couch, her nose deep in a thick book, as you rushed upstairs.

Once you were sure you were alone, you stopped Harry in the middle of the hallway. “Okay, that was the last time. No more doing that in the open.”

“Sorry, got carried away. At least it wasn’t Ron who saw us.” Harry shuttered, not even wanting to think about what his reaction would be.

“Shake it off, Harry. Just three, only three of them know. There’s like a bajillion others that don’t,” you rationalized. “Look, we just need to get through this holiday without anyone else finding out that we’re together. I think we can do that.”

“You lied to mother?” A stiff voice came from down the hallway. Shit. You forgot Percy was still in the house, holed up in his room doing his Ministry work.

Harry’s eyes widened as he shook his head at you, refusing to turn around.

“You’re seeing someone and you lied about it?” Percy frowned. “Well, I’ll have to tell her.”

“No, you won’t have to tell her. Don’t tell her. Please,” you practically begged.

Percy didn’t look convinced. His steely gaze wouldn’t let up. “I won’t if you promise me to tell her.”

“I promise, Perce, just let me do it when I’m ready,” you said, less of a real promise and more of a strategy to get him to go back into his room. You were thanking God when he nodded curtly and did just that.

“Well, would you look at the impeccable timing on that,” Harry said sarcastically.

You grimaced. “Dinner’ll be a real treat tonight.”

Dinner was not a treat. It was delicious, of course, courtesy of your mother. But it was quite tense, at least for you and Harry.

Bill kept shooting you knowing glances from across the table, looking back and forth between you and Harry, who made the seemingly unconscious choice to sit beside you.

Charlie couldn’t even look at you without snickering to himself, prompting your mum to start questioning him on his odd behavior.

Percy was silently urging you to say something about it, pulling at his collar uncomfortably and staring at you, unrelenting.

Ginny was, thankfully, docile for the time being.

“Charlie, would you stop laughing at your sister? I don’t see what’s so funny about her,” Molly scolded, finally having quite enough of your brother’s behavior.

“Nothing’s funny,” he said with a hint of a smile.

Bill was looking at him with his eyes narrowed slightly. “What do you know?” he asked suspiciously.

“What do you know?” Charlie replied, just as skeptical.

“I think the better question is, what does dad know about muggles?” You laughed nervously, getting weird looks from Ron and the twins. “Come on, dad. Why don’t you tell us about your latest case?”

Your father looked up from his meal, looking surprised, for he had hardly been acknowledged since the start of dinner. “Oh, well, we had an odd couple in the other day. They were the sort who didn’t really look like they belonged together. So, anywho, they-“

“Hold on,” Ginny interjected. “How do you know they didn’t belong together? There are loads of couples who you might not think belong together, but actually do, so it’s best not to judge before you know the whole story.”

Your dad looked confused. “Um, I guess they just didn’t seem compatible, but I’m sure they belong together just fine, Gin, no need to worry about that.”

As he continued with his story about this couple and their illegally enchanted carpet, you turned to glare at Ginny.

She gave you a rather obvious look of annoyance, which gained the attention of Fred and George.

“Something’s going on here, Freddie,” said George, leaning to his right.

“Agreed,” said George, looking around the table.

You actually heard Harry gulp beside you. You put a hand on his knee, attempting to comfort him. This action made him choke on the sip of water he had taken.

“All right there, Harry?” Ron asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Harry coughed. “Just fine.”

Percy cleared his throat. “Maybe he has something to say.”

“Percy, don’t be rude,” your mother scolded. “The boy’s just choked.”

“Yeah, Percy, don’t know why you’d think he wants to say something,” Ginny said. “So, keep your mouth shut.”

None of the siblings who knew had known that others at the table were also aware, but they were each starting to connect the dots.

“Can I just have a nice Christmas Eve dinner with my family?” Molly slammed one hand on the table. “Enough of the fighting and the strange comments. Please, just be normal.”

Fred grinned. “I can’t imagine what’s abnormal about us.”

“Oh, me neither. But you, Freddie, are abnormal looking,” George followed.

The rest of the night after dinner was just as stressful. You and your siblings were sitting around the living room, with the exception of Percy, who, to your immense relief, had gone back to his room for work.

Fred and George decided it would be a good idea to play a game of truth or dare with the assistance of some veritaserum they nicked from Snape’s stores the day before holiday began.

Needless to say, you and Harry were not excited.

“Hermione,” Fred said. “Truth or dare?”

Hermione rolled her eyes as George made a gesture that suggested she should choose truth. “Dare,” she said.

“I dare you to go outside and kiss one of the gnomes.”

“A gnome, Fred? Really?” Ron scoffed.

“You’d rather she kissed you, would you?” George teased.

Ronsaid nothing, but his ears turned red, giving him away.

Hermione’s face turned a similar shade as she stood up from the armchair. “Fine, then.”

You all collectively gathered around the window and watched Hermione stalk outside and grab one of the ugly gnomes by its bald head. She made a disgusted face and gave the gnome a peck so fast that you barely saw it.

She came back inside and washed her mouth out in the sink before returning to the chair. “George,” she said coolly. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth, of course!” George said happily. “We’ve got to put our stolen goods to good use.”

“It was very wrong of you to take Professor Snape’s materials,” Hermione said, frowning. “Is it true that you were the ones who gave Ron amortentia spiked chocolates last month?”

“Yes,” George said easily.

Ron scoffed loudly. “You told me that wasn’t you! You said it was her! I was following Lavender Brown around for weeks because of those!”

“Well, we hadn’t meant for you to go for her. It was supposed to be someone else.” George winked at Hermione.

“We messed up the potion,” explained Fred.

George looked to you. “Truth or dare?” he asked.

“Truth,” you said mindlessly, thinking about Hermione and the gnome. You noticed the alarmed look Harry was giving you and realized your mistake. Damn gnome.

George grinned mischievously. “Do you really have a boyfriend?”

“Yes,” you said unwillingly.

A gasp from Ron could be heard from the other side of the room. Ginny and Hermione were looking rather nervous for you. On the contrary, Bill and Charlie were quite amused.

“Tell us, who is he?” Fred continued off of George.

“Harry Potter,” you admitted before slapping a hand across your mouth.

An even louder gasp could be heard from Ron that caused Charlie to burst out laughing. Fred and George were looking rather pleased with themselves. You supposed that was better than them pranking the life out of Harry for dating their sister, which you had expected to happen.

Harry sat on the couch with his hands clenched at his sides, looking at the floor as his whole face turned red.

“My sister, Harry? Really?” Ron said, his voice carrying a mixture of anger and betrayal.

“Yeah, well, I love her,” Harry said, fully dropping his head into his palms. He definitely hadn’t meant to say that to everyone in the room. “I hate this damn potion.”

“The heart wants what it wants, Freddie,” said George.

“It sure does, Georgie,” Fred said, clasping his hands together over his chest.

“Honestly, this is a Christmas miracle,” Hermione burst out. “I’ve been covering for you for months. Four, horrible, long months.”

“Four months?” Ron said, bewildered. “Hermione, you knew and you never told me?”

“Oh, please, Ronald. If you opened your eyes you would’ve seen what was going on,” Hermione said.

“Easy for you to say, you’re bloody brilliant. You could spot anything off. I love that about you,” Ron confessed.

Bill and Charlie were wheezing on the floor at this point.

“This is the gift that keeps on giving!” Fred exclaimed.

“I’m so happy we played this game,” George said through laughs.

Hermione stood, cheeks burning. “We should all go to bed. It’s Christmas tomorrow.” She went up the stairs quickly. Ron seemed to have forgotten all about you and Harry and followed her.

Your other four brothers slowly made their way upstairs, practically dying from laughter at your expense.

Ginny stood awkwardly, bidding you and Harry goodnight and leaving you alone in the room.

“That could’ve gone worse,” you said, finally making eye contact with Harry, who was still looking a little red.

“I, for one, didn’t fancy confessing my love for you to your whole family,” Harry said, scooting over to your spot on the couch.

“I did.” You grinned, leaning towards him. He rolled his eyes, but indulged you anyways, letting his lips touch yours.

“Merry Christmas, Harry,” you whispered against him. “I love you, too.”

[nanawritesit]

Your Highness - Sanji x Reader: Part One

PART TWO PART THREE

plot: you’re a runaway princess bride who finds her way into the straw hat crew. you expected one hell of an adventure, but you never expected to fall for the head chef. things get even more complicated when your father, the king, and your ex-fiancé send their troops after the going merry. now you must choose between surrendering to save your crew and being with the only man you’ve ever truly loved. but of course, the straw hat crew isn’t going to let you go without a fight. especially sanji.

You panted heavily, hands gripped tightly onto your heavy white skirts as you navigated your way through the back alleys of the city. Your hair, which was previously tied up in perfect ringlets behind an intricate headdress, was now flying wildly behind you in loose waves. Suddenly, your heeled shoe snapped beneath you, and you fell to the ground with a thud. Mud splashed up onto your pristine white wedding gown, but you didn’t care. You were more focused on the march of soldiers’ footsteps that sounded off in the distance. You snapped your head around to glance behind you, then got back up on your feet to continue running away, your shoe left discarded in the alleyway. You didn’t know where you were heading, but you knew you had to get far away from the castle.

You never liked being a princess. All the rules and expectations were suffocating. Everyone was always telling you what to do, how to dress, how to act, how to feel… you had no freedom and led an extremely restricted life. You were the eldest daughter of the king, with two older brothers in line for the throne before you. Since birth, it was very clear to you that your only purpose in life was to marry a prince and produce his heirs so that your father could gain an ally. You were merely a pawn in a game that you never even got a turn in, and you were sick of it. You craved adventure. To see the wonders of the great world as they were intended to be explored. To live a life of passion that offered you fulfillment and excitement. That was your dream.

Today was supposed to be your wedding day. Your father had picked a prince for you to marry, and you were to be wed in just an hour. You were not in love with your fiancé, in fact, you’d never even spoken to him before. You only met him once, and that was when your father informed you of your betrothal. He was smug, entitled, and pompous with you the entire time he addressed you, treating you like a trophy or a pet. You decided right then and there that there was no way you were spending the rest of your life married to a man like him. So today, after your ladies’ maids had gotten you dressed and left your quarters, you took your chance to make an escape. You gathered up some gold and a few personal belongings and climbed down the ivy on the side of your ivory tower, making a run for it.

You reached the outskirts of the city along the coast, several long piers stretching out in front of you with huge, royal ships docked along the side of it. They were likely all boats full of nobles who had come as your wedding guests. You rolled your eyes as you scanned over them. Were you ever going to be able to escape the life you were born into? Was this just a foolish attempt of running away? Maybe you should just turn around and surrender to your father. Perhaps the punishment wouldn’t be to severe if you turned yourself in before the wedding.

Just as you were about to give up hope, you noticed an unfamiliar ship with a ram’s head decorating its bow. It was smaller than the other ships, and the crew didn’t look very stately at all. You saw a scrawny boy in a straw hat, a beautiful ginger girl, and a tough-looking moss-haired swordsman on deck, distracted by the map held out in front of them. Then you saw the jolly roger sail along the mast, and realized it was a pirate ship. You figured they were only here to dock ship and gather supplies, then head back out onto the seas. Seeing this as your only chance at escape, you ran towards it with unrelenting speed.

Right as you saw your fathers’ troops turning the corner, you ducked into the opening of the ship. Now in a long, empty hallway, you darted into the first open door you saw, slamming it behind you. You rested your back against the surface and sighed in relief. That was a close call. Perhaps you did have some luck on your side after all!

“I can’t make any food for you until we get more supplies, Luffy.” a man’s voice grunted from around the corner.

Shit, nevermind. You gasped, heart stopping in your chest. Cautiously, you peered around the corner and saw the most gorgeous man you had ever seen at a counter taking inventory. He had a perfect face, beautiful blonde hair, and was sharply dressed in a black suit with a pinstriped shirt and black tie underneath. His long, nimble fingers held a pen in them, swiping over the papers in front of him with quick fervor, pale blue eyes focused on his work.

When he didn’t hear a response from who he assumed was his captain, he glanced up and met your panicked gaze. His eyes widened slightly and his lips parted slightly, seemingly awestruck by you for a few seconds. Then, as if remembering himself, he blinked and clicked his tongue, a charming smile taking place on his expression.

“My my, while it’s always a pleasure to have a beautiful lady in my kitchen, might I ask what you’re doing here madam?” he asked with a flirty lilt to his voice.

You also snapped out of your daze at the sudden question, taking a few slow strides towards the stranger.

“Please sir,” you began, mustering up as much courage and diplomacy as you could. “I’m about to lose my freedom. My dream is to see the world, but I have people chasing after me to lock me back up in my gilded cage. I need to escape this kingdom without anyone knowing where I went.”

He scanned over your appearance, taking in your exquisite wedding gown and intricate jewels.

“My god… you’re a princess aren’t you?” he murmured with a contained gasp.

You nodded reluctantly. “I am Princess Y/N of Dacovia. I’m the eldest daughter of the king, and today is my wedding day. If you just allow me to board your ship, I promise I can make it worth your while.” You reached into your bag and pulled out a handful of gold. “Please captain.”

He smiled once again, putting his hands on his hips as his eyes flickered to the ground. He glanced back up at you and ran a hand through his golden locks. “While I appreciate the formalities your highness, I’m not the captain of this ship. I’m Sanji, the head chef.”

You winced, embarrassed by your groveling. You swallowed hard, then regained your confidence and met his gaze again with a polite smile. “My apologies. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sir Sanji.” You curtseyed to him.

“The pleasure is all mine, your highness.” he grinned, bowing at the waist. “But there’s no need to call me sir.”

You smiled appreciatively. “Then, there’s no need for you to call me your highness either. Y/N will do. I’m not particularly attached to my title as you can see.”

He chuckled heartily at your joke, cocking his hip forward and crossing his arms. “My, I’ve never met a noblewoman with such a good sense of humor.”

“You’ve met other noblewomen?” you asked perplexedly. You never expected the head chef of a pirate crew to have such connections.

“I used to work at a restaurant in the middle of the East Blue called the Baratie. It was very high class and had an extensive guest list of noblemen and commoners alike. Our motto was to never turn away anyone who was hungry.”

“That’s very admirable.” you complimented him. “Is cooking on a pirate ship your dream?” It was kind of a personal question, but conversation seemed to flow so easily between the two of you that you felt secure in asking it.

“Not exactly.” he laughed, leaning against the counter. “My dream is to find the All Blue. It’s a cook’s paradise, with a vast variety of ingredients from all four seas. I met our captain, Luffy, while working at the Baratie, and he offered me a spot on his crew. All of us are after something in this world, and Luffy wants to help us achieve our dreams.” He walked around the counter and reached for your hand. You gently placed it in his grasp, letting him squeeze it gingerly. “I’m sure if you talk to him, he’ll allow you to join as well.”

You smiled brightly, with such unbridled joy you thought you might burst. “Oh, thank you Sanji!” You couldn’t contain yourself any longer, and threw your arms around him in a tight hug.

He let out another contained gasp, then reciprocated your affections with a lighthearted chuckle. He pulled away after embracing you, putting his hands on your shoulders and looking you in the eyes.

“It’s no trouble, your highness. It’ll be nice to have another beautiful woman on board.” he grinned flirtatiously. “I’ll go fetch Captain Luffy.”

You nodded, watching him retreat into the hallway. “I told you, you don’t have to call me your highness.”

He paused in the doorway, looking over his shoulder at you. “I know. It just suits you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Being a princess doesn’t suit me at all.”

“Maybe not being a royal princess…” he proposed. “But perhaps you could be the princess of the Going Merry.”

——————

“A princess? You’re joking, right?” a female voice rang out down the hallway. You jumped in your seat at the counter, startled at the sudden break of silence.

“Oh man, I’ve gotta see this.” a gruff, sarcastic male voice commented.

“There’s no way she’s prettier than Kaya.” another, more lighthearted male voice added.

“Come now, just give her a chance.” you heard Sanji bargain with them. “You’ll like her Luffy. She’s got that certain spark, you know?”

You braced yourself for meeting the captain. You hadn’t seen any pirate captains in real life before, but the stories you read painted them as enourmous, swarthy men with long beards and dirty teeth. You gulped, gathering all of your courage to face the fearsome leader of the Going Merry.

The door swung open, and you locked eyes with the scrawny boy in the straw hat that you saw on the deck. Your eyes widened. He was the captain?

Sanji entered behind him, as well as the pretty ginger girl and the stoic swordsman you saw earlier, and a strong-looking, darker-skinned man as well.

Sanji smiled warmly as his eyes met yours. “Princess Y/N, it’s my pleasure to introduce you to the crew. This is our navigator Nami, our first-mate Zoro, warrior and storyteller Usopp, and finally… Captain Monkey D. Luffy.”

“Hi Y/N!” the captain beamed, stretching his hand out in front of him.

You just stared at it in confusion. No one had ever initiated a handshake with you. You didn’t even know how to reciprocate it. You began to panic. Were you already going to blow your chance at escaping?

Suddenly, Sanji gently picked up your arm and guided your hand towards Luffy’s. Luffy wrapped his fingers around your palm, thumb hooked with yours, and you did the same back to him. Sanji tilted your elbow up and down to shake the captain’s hand. You looked over at him, mouthing a silent thank you.

“So, I’m told you want to join the Straw Hat Crew?” Luffy asked with an excited grin. “Why’s that?”

You exhaled, collecting your thoughts before answering the captain. “Captain Luffy, as Sanji may have already told you, I am Princess Y/N, eldest daughter of the royal family of Dacovia. I’m about to be married against my will to a prince I don’t love, so I ran away from the castle. Soldiers are currently trying to hunt me back down. I know I was born into a life of immense privilege, but I don’t want to be a princess. I want to see the world and experience life as my own woman. I might not have a lot of skills that would be valuable on a pirate crew, but if you just allow me to stay with you, I can make it worth your while.” You opened up your purse and showed him all the gold that you had brought. Nami and Zoro’s eyes widened, but Luffy seemed unfazed.

“That’s very nice, but payment won’t be necessary.” Luffy smiled brightly. “The Going Merry is a ship of dreams. All of our crew is here to achieve their greatest desire.” He began to point to the members as he listed them. “Nami here wants to draw a map of the world. Zoro is gonna become the greatest swordsman in the world. Sanji will find the All Blue. Usopp there wants to be a brave warrior of the sea. And I…” He jumped up onto the counter and placed his hands on his hips dramatically. “Am gonna become King of the Pirates!” He knelt down and leaned towards you. “Do you believe in us?”

You looked between all the members of the crew. They all seemed so hopeful… so passionate… so brave… your eyes stopped on Sanji. As you looked into his icy blue eyes, you saw a certain sparkle that made you feel certain he would do anything to achieve his dream. Then you glanced back around at the rest of the crew, and saw that same optimistic glint in all of their eyes. You turned back to Luffy, meeting his determined gaze.

“Yes, I do. I believe that everyone in the Straw Hat Crew will do exactly what they set out to do.” you told him with a confident nod.

Luffy gave you the widest grin you’d ever seen, extending his arm towards you. “Then welcome aboard, your highness!”

Your face broke out in an overjoyed smile as you took Luffy’s hand. He pulled you up onto the countertop, making you gasp as he began dancing around with you. Usopp began cheering as well, while Nami let out an amused chuckle. Zoro cracked a content half-smile, which was huge for him.

Suddenly, your foot slipped off the edge of the counter, and you lost your balance. Now tumbling to the floor, your eyes widened as you envisioned your downfall. You squinted your eyes, waiting for the impact as everyone around you gasped worriedly.

Right as you expected to hit the ground, you landed softly in a cushiony embrace. Slowly creaking your eyes open, you were met by Sanji’s gorgeous blue eyes and charming smile hovering overtop of you.

“We’re gonna have to take it easy on her highness for a while guys.” he chuckled, shaking you in his arms playfully. Everyone joined the two of you in laughter, even Zoro.

“Speaking of which, we’re going to have to get you out of that gown.” Nami giggled. “Come with me, I’ll lend you some of my clothes.”

“We’ll get you some shoes when we get our supplies too.” Sanji assured you.

You glanced down at your bare feet. You didn’t know when you lost your other shoe, but you supposed it was useless without its mate anyway.

“Thank you all so very much.” you beamed, glancing between the crew members. “I am truly indebted to all of you.” You looked at Sanji again with admiration, as if to say especially you. He nodded, somehow understanding exactly what you meant.

——————

And so, you set off aboard the Going Merry as the newest member of the Straw Hat Crew!

It was a bit of an adjustment at first.

You shared a room with Nami, as she was the only other girl in the crew. She was a bit rough around the edges at first, but you were able to crack her tough exterior after a while. Deep down, she was actually very sweet and empathetic. Like you, she had just been through a lot. She was certainly glad to have another girl on board to help keep all the boys in line, and the two of you actually became quite close.

Usopp was always happy to entertain you with stories of his “grand adventures.” You had never heard tales of such whimsy and wonder with your stuffy background, and always listened intently and amazedly. Being away from Kaya, there wasn’t anyone else around who gave his stories much attention and awe. Though it wasn’t the same, he did derive a great happiness from your encounters.

Like Nami, Zoro was also pretty distant at first. You began to notice that everyone in the crew had some pretty thick trauma. However, you won him over by buying him plenty of liquor whenever you stopped somewhere with a bar. He also offered to teach you some general sword fighting moves when you expressed how worried you were about not being able to protect yourself. He acted as if it was no big deal, but you could tell he enjoyed having someone to fight with, even if it was just the basics.

Luffy was just as friendly with you as he was with everyone. He would regularly ask you about what your life was like a princess, and what kind of adventures you hoped to encounter at sea with him. You would often sit on the bow together, not having to worry about falling off, because you knew his rubber arms could stretch out and catch you no matter how far you flew. The two of you would gather up a bunch of snacks, courtesy of Sanji, and just talk through the night, staring up at the stars.

Then there was Sanji. He was definitely the member of the crew you were closest with. Not only was he the first one you met, but he was the one who understood your background the best. And, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t completely captivated by him. You knew it was silly, and that he was charming with just about every girl he met, but you couldn’t help but fall for him. It wasn’t just his perfect smile that made you melt, or his flirtatious attitude. It was his unyielding kindness and understanding. He was forever patient with you, never making you feel like a burden or an inadequate member of the crew.

You actually started out as his assistant, as the crew figured it would be the easiest thing for you to grasp as a newfound pirate. You loved hearing him talk about food and cooking. The passion and excitement in his voice was utterly captivating, and you could tell it all came from a place of genuine contentment. He was always encouraging with you in the kitchen, guiding your hands with his own as he taught you how to chop vegetables properly. You tried to ignore the way his breath blew against your neck, and how he smelled like fresh linen and tobacco, but it was kind of impossible when he was literally pressed up against your back.

Today, Sanji had given you the day off from kitchen duties, saying a pretty lady like yourself deserved to rest every once in a while. So, you were currently just sitting at the kitchen table, writing away in your journal. Finally having the freedom to dress yourself, you had traded your heels for combat boots and your ballgown for a simple white cotton dress and a black leather waist belt, your hair gathered back in one of Nami’s borrowed red bandanas. You had abandoned all of your fancy jewelry, except for a simple string of pearls and some small gold hoops in your ears.

You jumped as the door swung open, revealing a smiling blonde chef.

“Oh, Sanji!” you greeted him. “Would you like me to leave?”

“No, by all means, stay. I could use some good scenery.” he winked, going over to his counter. You couldn’t help the warm blush that crept up your cheeks. You tried to tell yourself it was just how he was, but that was proving to be a futile effort. “What are you doing anyway, my dear?”

“Oh nothing, just writing some poetry.” you explained, gesturing to your journal.

“Really? I didn’t know you wrote poetry.” he asked, beginning to boil some water. “My, you are just full of surprises, your highness.”

You laughed lightheartedly at his banter, slowly shaking off your bashfulness. “It’s just one of those princess habits I can’t seem to shake. I’ve been taught it from such a young age, it’s one of my only outlets. Sometimes I feel like it’s the only thing I’m good at.”

He frowned slightly, shaking his head. “Don’t say that, your highness. You’re good at a lot of things.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” you fished, rolling your eyes playfully.

“Well, for starters, you make a wonderful sous chef.” he grinned, peeling some potatoes. “I don’t think I could prepare Luffy’s monstrous portions without your help.”

You giggled, closing up your journal. “Well that’s mostly just you being a great teacher.”

Now it was Sanji’s turn to feel bashful, although he was great at covering it up. “Well, you’ve also got a great sense of humor. I don’t know anyone on the crew who hasn’t cracked up at one of your jokes. You even make Zoro laugh, and he’s a major stick in the mud.”

You chuckled at him, feeling slightly embarrassed at his praise. “Oh Sanji, now you’re just trying to butter me up like I’m one of your entrees.”

“Just being honest, princess.” he shrugged with a cocky smirk. “You’re also very selfless. You’ve been willing to sell a lot of your old jewelry just to get us some extra money for supplies.”

“Eh, I don’t need any of that stuff anymore.” you huffed, waving a hand in the air dismissively.

He set down his peeler and placed both hands flat on the counter, leaning forward and looking at you with a sudden intensity that made you freeze.

“You’re one of the bravest women I’ve ever met. How many princesses have ran away from their weddings and joined a pirate crew?”

You glanced down at the ground, fighting the urge to smile. “Not many, I believe.”

“I’d wager zero.” Sanji retorted. “You know what you want in life, and you’re not afraid to go after it. You’re smart, and kind, and beautiful, so I won’t have you meandering on about your so-called inadequacies, alright?”

You nodded with a small, shy grin. “Yes, chef.”

And on the flip of a dime, his same old playful demeanor returned, and he resumed preparing dinner. He plunked the peeled potatoes into the pot of water and moved onto slicing up the steak.

“I’d love to read your poetry sometime. I’m sure it’s just as lovely as you are.” he mused, glancing up at you momentarily.

“Oh I don’t know…” you muttered, fumbling with the journal in your hands. “I’m not sure it’s any good. The only one who’s ever read it is my governess.”

“Oh? And what did she think of it?” he asked interestedly.

You smiled fondly at the memory of her. “She always told me I was gifted. She was so kind, always commending me on my creativity and passion. She used to call me her poetry princess.”

“She sounds like an amazing lady.” Sanji commented. “Were you fond of her?”

“Oh, most definitely!” you marveled, spinning around in your chair to face him. “She was more of a mother than the queen ever was to me. She was the first person in the world who made me feel like I was more than just a decorative pawn in my father’s game of conquests.”

He chuckled lightly, beginning to prepare his skillet with butter and garlic. “Do you miss her?”

Your eyes landed on your lap as you tried to find the right words. “Very much…” You started to feel a lump form in your throat. It was hard to think about how you had abandoned her. You didn’t regret leaving the kingdom, but part of you did regret leaving her behind.

Sanji seemed to sense your inner turmoil, as he removed his skillet from the stove and walked around the counter towards you. He knelt down in front of you, hooking a finger under your chin and tilting it up to prompt you to meet his eyes.

“I know how difficult it is to leave someone you care for behind.” he explained sympathetically, looking at you with such soft kindness that you felt like you could burst into tears at any moment. “But the thing you have to remember is that they want what’s best for you. They want you to chase after your dreams and live the life you deserve. It might be hard to accept that they don’t need to be a part of it, but their love and hope for you is greater than that.” He brought a thumb up to your cheek to wipe away the stray tears that you didn’t even realize had fallen. “You did what you had to do. And I’m so glad you burst into my kitchen months ago, all tattered and panicked, begging for safe passage. Because the truth is…” He then placed both hands on your cheeks, giving you the warmest smile he’d ever given anyone. “It wouldn’t be the same without you, your highness.”

You smiled through your tears, placing your hands around his and giving them a delicate squeeze. “I’m so grateful for you Sanji. You’ve been so kind to me.”

He grinned contentedly. “It’s my pleasure, your highness.”

You stayed like that for a little while, just holding onto each others hands and smiling at each other. Suddenly, the mood shifted as you noticed his eyes focused on your lips. You mirrored his actions, glancing down at his own lips. They were plump and pretty, a beautiful shade of blush that had you in a trance. His tongue darted between them momentarily.

Your eyes locked in on his for a moment. They were shining with light-blue anticipation, the kind that gave you so much confidence and courage. Both of your eyes darted back to each others lips, and what seemed to be in unison, you began slowly inching forward. You fluttered your eyelids shut in preparation for the connection of your lips…

“Hey Sanji, what are you making for dinner?” Luffy suddenly asked from the doorway.

Sanji squinted his eyes together and let you a frustrated sigh. When he opened them, you shot him a sympathetic smile, one that hid your own discomfort and disappointment extremely well.

“Hey there captain. Tonight’s dinner is grilled steak strips, garlic roasted potatoes, and parmesan crusted asparagus.” Sanji huffed as he walked over to Luffy, who had a clueless grin on his face.

“Awesome! I can’t wait!” the captain beamed, hopping up on the counter. “Oh, hi Y/N! I didn’t see you there!”

“Hi Luffy.” you smiled politely. It was hard to be mad at him when he greeted you so cheerfully. “I was just about to head out, Nami said something about teaching me how to read a map.” you lied.

Sanji shot you a small pout. “Are you sure you have to leave? I could still use some help prepping the ingredients.” He was pleading at you with his eyes to stay. However, things were now too awkward with Luffy walking in on you guys almost kissing, and you just needed to leave the kitchen.

“It’s my day off, remember?” you replied cheekily, making your way over to the exit. “I’ll see you guys at dinner.”

——————

It had been a week since your almost-kiss with Sanji. Things were undeniably tense between the two of you. You were still friendly with him, and he was as flirtatious as he always was. But you both knew you were avoiding a huge elephant in the room, and neither one of you knew how to bring it up without making things uncomfortable.

It was currently the middle of the night, and you were laying in your hammock-bed staring at the wooden ceiling of you and Nami’s shared bedroom. You were having yet another sleepless night. Every time you started to drift off, you’d immediately be reminded of how you were so close to kissing the guy of your dreams.

You glanced over to Nami’s side of the room, hoping to see her restless so you could talk to her about your dilemma. She was the only one on the crew who knew about your enormous crush on Sanji. However, she was sound asleep in her own hammock.

You exhaled a heavy breath, then threw your blankets off your legs and stood up to leave the room. You obviously weren’t going to fall asleep anytime soon, so you figured you’d stretch your legs a bit.

You ended up crawling your way up into the crow’s nest, as there was currently no one else on deck. You leaned back against the hard, cold wood and gazed up at the stars. It was amazing to think that these were the same stars you looked at from your ivory tower months ago. They seemed so much brighter over the sea.

To fill the silence, you decided to sing one of the songs your governess taught you. You formed a habit of singing it to yourself whenever you were stressed or feeling hopeless. It made you feel calm and grounded.

You tried to be quiet, as everyone else was asleep, but as the song went on you couldn’t help but put more passion into your song. You had always loved singing since you were a child.

Finally your song came to an end, and you were startled by the sound of applause. Your head snapped around to the edge of the crow’s nest. There was Sanji, clapping his hands with an admiring smile.

“You have a lovely voice, princess.” he complimented you, hopping over the barrier to sit down next to you.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” you asked, concerned you were singing loud enough to wake the whole crew.

“No, not at all! I was up making myself a late night snack. It helps when I’m having trouble falling asleep.” he explained.

He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it up, taking a long drag before exhaling the smoke. He held one out to you. “Want one?”

You studied it, debating whether or not you wanted it. “I’m not sure, I’ve never smoked before.”

“Here, you can try a puff of mine. See if you like it.” he grinned, handing you his lit cigarette. You cautiously brought it to your lips and began to suck on it. “Just make sure you don’t-“

But he was too late. You were already coughing up a storm, hunched over and pounding on your chest.

“Inhale…” he finished with a chuckle, patting your back .

“God Sanji, how do you smoke those?” you hacked out between coughs. “It’s disgusting, I’m throwing this out!”

“No don’t!” he pleaded, reaching for the cigarette.

But you were too fast, throwing it over the edge of the crow’s nest before he could grab it.

He just looked at you with his mouth agape, the corners of his mouth tilted up in a baffled smirk. “That wasn’t very princess-like of you. I’m starting to think this pirates life is rubbing off on you.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes as he just pulled another one out of his pocket and lit it up. “So, you couldn’t sleep either hm?” you asked, tilting your head curiously.

He shook his head. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, your highness.”

You chuckled, nudging him with your elbow. “Same here. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about what happened, but I just…”

“Couldn’t find the right words?” he finished your sentence for you.

You nodded, putting your head in your hands and laughing in disbelief at how easily he could read you. “Exactly.”

He leaned back up against the barrier to join you in looking up at the night sky, seemingly in thought. You suddenly felt brave enough to lay your head on his shoulder. You could feel him smiling down at you as you cuddled up closer to him.

“Well, who says we need words?” he asked, turning his head towards you. “Actions speak louder sometimes.”

“Hm?” you asked, sitting up to face him.

He put out his cigarette and tilted your chin up with his forefinger, prompting you to look up at him. He just looked over your features for a moment, taking in the sight before him.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” he told you in an uncharacteristically serious voice. His eyes were like cornflower pools of commendation, fixed upon you with unrelenting intensity.

You just stared back at him, mouth slightly agape at the sudden intimacy of the moment. “Thank you, Sanji…”

“I mean it.” he told you, looking you straight in the eye. “But your beauty is only a fraction of what makes you special. I mean, you’re a talented writer, a beautiful singer, an amazing aspiring chef and swordsman, a good joke-teller, and a selfless, loyal pirate… Is there anything you can’t do, your highness?”

At that moment, it was like a cupid’s arrow had shot you straight through the heart. As a princess, you were always taught that the most important thing for you to be was beautiful. Not smart, not kind, not creative. Your only job was to sit still and look pretty. But with Sanji, all of that was thrown out the window. You got to express every part of your personality that you’d had to hold back for so many years. It was freeing, and it made you feel like your existence was truly meaningful to someone.

Before anyone could possibly interrupt you, you took your chance and pulled him towards you by his black neck tie, crashing your lips against his with everything you had. There was an element of softness to it, but it was just intense enough that he could feel how long you had desired to press your lips to his.

He was frozen for only a second or two, then he gingerly placed a hand upon your cheek, gripping onto it slightly to deepen the kiss.

After a while he pulled back to catch his breath, forehead pressed against yours as you both panted heavily.

“You can add amazing kisser to the list of things you’re good at.” he smirked, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

You giggled, placing your hand over his. “With you around, my list will become a mile long.”

“As it should be.” he told you, going back in for another kiss. This one was more passionate, his free hand moving to your waist to hold you in place. Your hands went up to his shoulders, gripping onto them tightly as if you could fly away at any second.

His tongue brushed against the parting of your lips as if asking for safe passage, which you granted him by sliding your own under his. He tasted like rum and vanilla, equal parts bitter and sweet with a touch of tobacco, and you couldn’t get enough of it.

“I really like you, Sanji.” you suddenly confessed, not being able to hold it back any longer.

He held your face in his hands, looking at you in pure amazement, searching for any possible sign that you might be joking. “Do you mean it, your highness?”

You nodded, swallowing the lump that was beginning to form in your throat. This was it. This was the part where he would either refuse or accept your feelings.

“I like you a lot too, Y/N.” he smiled warmly, pulling you into his lap. He began frantically kissing you all over your face and neck, making you giggle and feign resistance.

For the remainder of the night, the seagulls and pelicans were the only ones who heard the laughter of two pirates exchanging kisses from the crows nest. They both ended up falling asleep curled up in each others arms, causing the rest of the crew to tease them lovingly in the morning.

[sleepyangelkami]

WITHOUT HESITATION j.todd

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 3K

JASON TODD X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - jason, almost too late, realises that you're in immediate danger. when he finds you and your sister in a flipped car rigged to blow, he makes the impending decision to save you and not her, without hesitation.

 ☆ WARNINGS - blood, gore, injury, explosions, car crash, arguing, worry/anxiety, the joker, mention of alcohol consumption, main character death (not j. or r.), grief, crying, (6) use of y/n, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

jason had realised much too late what was going on.

his head had been torn while working on the case with dick. what was joker going to do next, who was the target? after all, he never did go out without a bang. and he was getting closer and closer to the people they loved.

it was just a matter of time.

he had to admit, during all of this he'd managed to push you away. unintentionally, of course. you two were getting into it almost every day now. though he had to agree that it was his own doing and not yours. he'd snap, you'd merely stare, wondering what was wrong with him.

didn't you see? by the end of the week, joker would have gotham painted red if they didn't figure out his next move soon enough.

this was why jason was thankful your sister had come for the weekend to take you away. your sister, ashley, worked a long while away from gotham and it wasn't often that she came to see you. when she did, she turned her nose up at the sight. she never was a lover of gotham.

jason supposed, neither were you.

but as much as you hated the crime that circled gotham, the dirt on the street, the injustice of the entire city, you still loved it dearly. it was where you'd grown up and you just couldn't bring yourself to leave. so, you got a paying job, lived in the smallest of apartments where you spent most of your time with your lover. and if you and jason weren't there, you were spending time at the manor, wrapped up in jason's black sheets while he recited the books that lay on his night stand.

the trip ashley was taking you to would last a total of two days, the friday she came and the saturday after. you wouldn't be heading home until that sunday evening.

he hoped by then that he would have the case sorted out and it was safe enough for you to come home.

often times, he wondered what he was doing as red hood. perhaps it wasn't worth it anymore, would it be better to just let it all go? batman and nightwing could save gotham. he and you could live a normal, mundane, happy life. then he'd look at you in the midst of reading, glancing down at your closed eyes and pretty pouty lips. then, he'd be reminded of why he did what he did. to make gotham a better place for you and one day, for his family.

"you all set?" he questioned, shutting the trunk after lifting all your bags into the car. you'd told him you could do it yourself but he only insisted. he'd done enough to you in the past few days, you deserved this at least.

"yes." you grinned up at him, sweet as ever. even in he midst of chaos, you were the sweetest he'd ever seen. "apex grove awaits us!" you glanced to your sister who was sat in the car, leaning out the window with an ugly green suncap on her head apex grove written in yellow writing.

"it's gonna be the best weekend ever!" she was whooping in the car causing you to giggle at her antics. it would be the best weekend ever, for her, that was if she remembered any of it after she got shitfaced two nights in a row.

jason was not unfamilliar to your sister's drinking habits. but he thought what harm, it wasn't as if you were stupid enough to get dragged into it too. "you have fun, okay? not too much fun."

you listened to him huff out a laugh. "i will." before moving forward to let your head fall on his chest. hugging jason was what you assumed hugging clouds felt like. though you'd never experience it, you could still dream. "'m gonna miss you." you mumbled, only loud enough for the man to hear.

even during arguments, you were the only one that truly saw him.

you never blamed him for his short temper or his aggrivation he felt during cases like these. you only moved with caution, letting him know you were there. you were something he would be eternally grateful for.

"i'll miss you too, sweetheart." he mumbled back, pretty eyes glowing in the little sunlight that gotham got.

"bleh!" your sister yelled, rolling her eyes. "come on, y/n! we're gonna be late for the dinner reservation!"

"okay, bye." you reached up, kissing him on the lips ever so gently. "love you."

"love you too." watching as you made your way towards the passenger seat giddily. "take care of her!" placing his hands on his hips as though he were a mother.

"bye jason!" your sister only yelled back in response causing his brows to crease even further. was she trying to make him go grey in his prime? nevertheless, he waved towards your window until your sister's range rover left through the wayne manor's gates.

while watching them close on the way out, he felt a certain tightness in his chest. worry. he worried for you, worried that something would happen to you while you were gone. then he reassured himself that here was where the trouble was. if anything, he should be thankful you were anywhere but here.

you'd given jason a key to your apartment. you'd always insisted he'd take one anyway but he never did, you soon learned that was because he sort of liked coming through your window, grin on his face as you jumped sheepishly with a fright.

now, however, the key was forced into his back pocket.

you'd told him he'd better stay at yours for at least the nights, reassuring him that this whole joker business would get sorted out as it always did. you told him that whatever he was to do, he was at least to get sleep in your apartment and not stay cooped up in the manor wondering where joker will land next.

and he really wanted to make you happy, truly.

but it was now sunday and they were no closer than they were before.

bruce was injured, heavily so, from the joker's last attack. alfred had all but bedbound him, forcing him onto the lush mattress that costs more than your apartment complex put together.

so for the most part, it was just dick and jason on this one. tim was away and damian wasn't trusted on something so severe without the guidance of bruce.

alfred popped in once or twice to deliver food and assure that they were getting the rest and nutrition that they needed.

however, all the brothers could do was think the entire events over and look for clues. "three wheels on fire." dick's hands were clasped in his lap while he sat by the computers. "that's what he said, why didn't he show?"

the men had thought for sure that the joker would have struck at the fun fair. gotham was throwing one and there happened to be exactly three ferris wheels. "i don't know." leaning his face onto his hand that was propped onto the table. a map lay atop it. "maybe it was to throw us off his trail?"

"no chance!" dick quickly shut him down as he stood, pacing the cave. "maybe something went wrong. maybe he messed up. three wheels on fire, i mean, that was his chance! what else could he have been talking about." seconds passed before dick practically had a light bulb appear over his head. "a car? three cars?"

"that could be any three cars." jason waved him off. "how on earth would we figure out who? besides, three random civilians? don't you think it's a little too.... theatrical for three civilians?"

dick slumped back into his chair. "the joker does love his theatrics."

and jason had to agree with that. his eyes glanced down to the map, scanning it, until... "dick." his head turned. "hand me that red marker?" doing as he was told, dick handed jason the red marker that he used to scribble little dots against the page.

in confusion, the older boy watched him. he watched as fear suddenly took over his face, draining him to a ghostly while colour. dick hadn't seen jason scared of many things but whatever he had just uncovered... that was enough fear for a lifetime. "talk to me jaybird."

he swallowed thickly, already standing. "everywhere the joker's hit has been in pathway's through towns. every dot on the page is where he hit."

dick shook his head. "no, no, he didn't hit there." bulky finger lingering on the last spot on the page.

"no." he shook his head. "but it's the only dot that would connect the full circle. apex grove. it's where y/n is." the words came out sort of like a whisper, a whisper of pure fear.

"no, no, okay? you can't go off of some silly circle drawing, i mean, how do you know she's even in a car right now?" his hands were on jay's shoulders, trying to keep him steady in all his attempts. but jason's mind had already been clouded by fear and that enough had it made up.

"she's coming home tonight."

"that still doesn't prove anything!"

"dick." his face stern and steady. "if anything happens to her," voice cracking ever so softly. "if anything happens to her, i won't forgive myself."

dick swallowed too, realising perhaps jason was right. and even if he wasn't, was it a situation he was willing to put your life on the line for? "okay, let's go."

"it's so dark." you giggled, glancing out the window. you were... tispy, you could say. thing is, you'd been the sober one for friday and saturday night so ashley decided you were going to drink at least one night so she decided why not now, it wasn't as if you had to drive back to gotham, she had that handled.

"yeah." she chuckled. "tends to happen when the sun goes down." you hummed, sitting back up. you weren't exactly drunk, everything was just buzzing a little. "i didn't wanna ask because i didn't wanna ruin the whole night or anything but what was going on with you and jason?"

"what do you mean?" you questioned, turning your head to her while laying it against the seat. tiredness consumed you whole and while you'd loved this little getaway with your sister, you were thankful to be sleeping in your apartment bed tonight.

she shrugged her shoulders, eyes set on the dark road ahead. "i don't know, thought there was a little tension or something."

"we had a little fight." you admitted, absentmindedly gazing out the window. "but it's okay, all couples fight, right?" you couldn't tell her why you'd fought because that would include telling her about the fact that he worked with batman against the joker and that didn't seem like a great way to tell her.

"oh yeah, you should see me and theo." theo was her husband, the father to her kid, teddy, it was supposed to be sort of like theo but you didn't know if that was how it actually sounded. "we fight all the time."

"but you love him." you added.

"oh yeah, to bits." grinning and for a split second, glancing at you. "and as a girl in love, i can tell when other people are in love. and you and jason are just... soulmates." you huffed out a little laugh. "no, seriously, i've never seen two people so in love. i mean, all through highschool, i really thought you were gonna end up a crazy old cat lady."

"i do like cats."

"mm, always did."

BANG !

jason swore he broke every speed limit known to man, he didn't care. he couldn't care. dick waited until the motorbike slowed to a stop.

the men discarded the vehicles before stepping onto the road, staring in shock.

in the darkness of the night, a range rover could be made out, lights still on, though it appeared only one was working. it had been flipped on it's backside, one wheel discarded on the other side of the road. what had hit them? jason had no idea but what he did know was that there was a kind of ringing in his ear, fear.

"is that them, jason?!" it wasn't the first time dick had yelled out the question.

though his voice suddenly brought him back to life, his brows knitted. "the car's not on fire." he mumbled, confused. "dick, the car isn't on fire."

"oh shit." instinctively taking a step back. "it's gonna blow up."

the words should have registered in jason's mind to get the fuck out of there. instead, he ran towards the car.

he heard the faint yell of "jason!" from behind him. but there was only one thing on jason's mind as of now. and that was you.

he found you quick enough, popping off the door with his strength instead of wasting any more time. he could see you flipped in the passenger seat, your sister next to you. even when blood dripped from your forehead and your nose, gash against your hairline, you looked almost peaceful, as if you were only sleeping.

it caused genuine fear in him. jason swore he'd never been so scared.

knowing that at any moment the car could explode, he grabbed your limp body with ease, carrying it until you were a safe enough distance from the car and setting you down on the ground.

"y/n? baby, can you hear me?" dick watched as his baby brother held his limp girlfriend in his arms. "y/n, wake up. wake up!" as if in some distant world, you'd heard him, your eyes slowly peeled themselves awake. "there you are, there you are, huh?" though a laugh emitted his mouth, there were tears in the corner of your boyfriends eyes.

confusion washed over you, eyes hazy. "where am i?" but before you could receive an answer, everything came flooding back and you began sitting up, turning your head. "where's ashley?"

you were leaning on your arm, the other had a wound soaking through your shirt.

the men didn't respond, glancing to one another. going in there meant risking their lives. and sure, they risked their lives every day for the people of gotham but that car could blow at any minute. "where is she?" you practically cried, eyes turning to the flipped car behind jason. "she's still in there?!"

"y/n, listen―"

you cut dick off, trying to stand. "no! no! i have to get her!"

jason held you though it didn't take much, your body already weak. "sweetheart, the car is gonna blow, we can't risk you―"

"i have to save her! get off!" as much as you tried to writhe against him, it worked at no avail. "jason, get off me! jason!" dick's heart pained as jason's hand soothed the back of your head, pushing it against his shoulder.

BANG !

you swore you screamed, you heard a scream, you think. it was all really hard to remember. you clawed at jason, crying into his redhood suit shoulder, sobbing horrendously as you watched the car that held your sister burst into flames.

jason held you, not uttering a word and watching dick flee the scene, most likely in suit of finding the joker. he could only hold you close, listening you scream the word 'no' on repeat.

"i know, i know." he swore he could feel his own eyes muddling with the same glassy tears that yours were covered with. "i'm sorry, i'm so sorry."

at some point, you turned your eyes away from the explosion, face in jason's chest. you no longer fought against him, crying so loudly as he held your wrists against him, trying everything in his will to pick the pieces of you up. but in some way, he felt as though he'd caused them.

"she's gone." you sobbed out violently against him. "she's gone." the words repeated in your brain. you'd lost many people to gotham but never did you think you'd lose her, anyone but her.

"baby, you're bleeding." blood covered your hands and his, practically dripping down your face. "we need to get you to a hospital."

but you were beyond the point of caring, blubbering with few whimpers between. all you could think was your pretty sister, a husband and a kid, burned away in an explosion. she was gone and she was not coming back. "i- i can't." hyperventilating out the words. "i can't l-leave."

"i got you." you felt him help you off the stone ground, your knees weak. though nothing really registered, a ringing in your ears. even hours later, he kept repeating the same words. "i got you. i got you." sitting on the hospital bed next to you while you sat with a sullen look in your eyes. you were far away, that much was obvious but no longer stained with the vicious blood.

"she's gone." it came out much calmer now, though tears still coated your glassy red eyes. "why didn't you take her and not me?" though it was a stupid question.

even in your clouded mind you knew that if he could do it all over again, he wouldn't change a thing.

"i had to save you." he answered.

when he saw you were in that flipped over car, knowing there was a chance he could have blown up with you, he took it anyway, grabbing your limp body without hesitation.

he'd rather die than let something happen to you.

and in this case, he'd rather let someone else die than any harm to come to you. and that was simply something he wasn't afraid to admit.

he could lose. he had lost. he lost almost everything from his family to the world around him. but he couldn't lose you. no, anything but you.

main masterlist/jason's masterlist

[cobaltperun]

Genius (3) - Own It

Cairo Sweet x female (G!P) Reader

Summary: It was such a cliché, a reunion she didn’t expect to ever happen, let alone six years after she last saw you. It was supposed to mean nothing, a bit of nostalgia, maybe a brief catching up while waiting for class, it was supposed to be a small wave of nostalgia, not a tsunami that disrupted her entire life. You were her opposite, and as hard as she tried she couldn’t resist your pull.

Story masterlist / First part / Previous Part / Next Part

Word count: 4k

-I will never run from it when I’m in the moment, I’m gonna own it own it ain’t afraid to own it-

Winnie chose to spend the night at Cairo’s place, it was big, Cairo was often lonely, she liked spending time with Cairo, it was a win-win situation. Besides, the beds were really comfortable. How long ago has she fallen in love with the girl? With her mysterious aura, a hard to approach exterior with a surprisingly softer side, with the acceptance of others she didn’t expect from someone born in Cairo’s circumstances. And it didn’t hurt that Cairo was beautiful, but none of that mattered. Cairo just didn’t see her that way.

Cairo never really saw anyone that way, she was stuck in her books and writing, and Winnie never realized what it was that Cairo wanted. She thought Cairo wanted more books, more of what she already loved. But then you said you’d take Cairo out of the village and Winnie swore she saw something she never saw in Cairo’s eyes. You and Cairo knew each other, that much she understood, but you’ve been apart for at least the past four years. And you, just like that, in one sentence, made Cairo look lost in her thoughts, a yet to be opened book in her hands.

And even worse than that Winnie heard your name before, though Cairo never talked about you. Between Cairo’s reaction to recognizing you, and then her willingness to let you take her out, take her somewhere outside of the village, there was no doubt in Winnie’s mind that you were the same person from that night.

~X~

Cairo was in a really bad mood the whole week and Winnie wanted to cheer her up, but nothing was working. It was like it didn’t matter that they had good weather, that a small cinema just opened in the village. Well, Cairo wasn’t much of a movie fan, she preferred her books, so that didn’t do much for her, but it was something new in their village! And as hard as Winnie tried, she couldn’t understand why Cairo was in a bad mood. Nothing out of the ordinary happened, yet the girl didn’t want to leave her bed.

“Come on, Cairo, talk to your Winnie,” she tried to poke her, but Cairo just pushed her hand away.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she muttered, though Winnie could see her eyes were a bit puffy. And the open book next to Cairo’s head looked a bit wet.

Winnie sighed. Why wasn’t anything working? She groaned, losing her patience with the girl and leaving her bedroom. She’d go and make some food for Cairo, since she wasn’t sure when was the last time the girl ate, but as she came back after spending way too much time deciding on what to make for Cairo with a sandwich in hand she realized Cairo was asleep.

Cairo mumbled something incoherent in her sleep, not for the first time, she often talked in her sleep, though Winnie rarely got the opportunity to hear it. Well, at least she was sleeping. She figured she should leave, and so she placed the plate on Cairo’s nightstand and turned to leave. She didn’t dare to push a few strands of Cairo’s hair out of her face.

“Wait,” Cairo muttered and for a moment Winnie’s heart skipped a beat, but when she turned she saw Cairo was still asleep. “Y/N,” the girl said a name Winnie never heard before, but she said it with so much longing Winnie could have sworn her own heart broke for the girl. Who was she dreaming about? Why did she never mention this ‘Y/N’? She didn’t know, she wouldn’t dare to ask because the tone of Cairo’s voice told her enough already.

~X~

The moment Cairo realized who you were that night came to Winnie’s mind and at first Winnie was worried. She wasn’t sure how Cairo would react, and more importantly she wasn’t sure what made the two of you separate. Yet that worry began fading when she realized just how softly you were looking at Cairo, she saw the same longing in your eyes, the same intensity as the longing she heard in Cairo’s voice.

And though she could admit she was feeling jealous that you so openly looked at Cairo like she was the only one in the room, she was glad whatever separated you and Cairo didn’t leave you mad at the girl.

“What are you thinking about?” Winnie finally chose to speak up and if Cairo wasn’t as composed as she was she was sure the girl would have jumped a bit.

“Just childhood,” she said as she got up and placed the book back on the shelf, and Winnie saw that it was some book by Jules Verne, which wasn’t too unusual, but it definitely wasn’t the genre Cairo was currently into.

“About Y/N?” she asked, observing carefully as Cairo went stiff, as she looked to the side, refusing to meet Winnie’s gaze.

“It doesn’t matter, I have other things to do,” Cairo grabbed a pack of cigarettes and went to her laptop, and Winnie got a message, she didn’t feel like talking about you.

But she still agreed to go with you, and while she didn’t say it, and while she tried to hide it, Winnie knew her well enough by now. Cairo wanted you back in her life.

~X~

Saturday came way too quickly! Between classes, settling down, handling the moving, well, a handful of things that you couldn’t carry on your motorcycle being shipped to you, and all the small details that took up your time you felt like you blinked, and Saturday arrived!

You haven’t seen Cairo since Monday, and you had to admit you were a bit too anxious for your own liking. What would you talk about? Would you be able to go back to the way things were before she suddenly cut you off from her life? No, of course it couldn’t be the same. It’s been years, you were different people now. Would she be okay with riding on your motorcycle? Was that pushing her too far out of blue? Forcing her to be that close to you? Maybe you should take your parents’ car? Did it have enough gas though?

Maybe you should, but you weren’t that experienced with cars, you were much more comfortable on your motorcycle and you didn’t want to be a nervous mess in front of Cairo. Well, any bigger nervous mess than you were going to be in less than half an hour.

Motorcycle it is! If she isn’t comfortable, you’ll just go back and get the car. With that in mind you went to get dressed, opting for simple jeans and a white T-shirt, with your jacket, gloves, and boots.

And now you just sat there, taking deep breaths to calm down your nerves. You didn’t even specify the time! And you didn’t get her bloody number!

“Damn it!” you yelled, almost slamming your helmet and the rest of the protective gear on and got on your motorcycle. You’ll figure shit out with her instead of torturing yourself like this!

~X~

She should have asked you for your number. She should have told you exact time you should meet up. Was she supposed to come to you, or would you come to her house? Why didn’t she think this out more carefully?!

All things considered, Cairo’s been ready for an embarrassingly long time, for about two hours now. Since seven in the morning since she could barely sleep last night. And she spent an hour going through her wardrobe, never quite happy with what she was wearing. In the end she chose to go with black shorts and a button-up baby blue shirt. She was so distracted by her own worries that she nearly missed someone ringing her bell. It had to be you, after all, one of the last buses would leave in half an hour and after that you wouldn’t be able to leave for another three hours.

She took a deep breath and went to the front doors a bit too quickly for her own liking, but there was no going back now. She opened the doors and saw you, with a helmet in hand and a bit of a nervous smile on your face. You were wearing a sturdy-looking black jacket with red stripes going down the sleeves and your sides, it matched your gloves and helmet as well. Wait… A helmet? Her eyes widened. “When did you come back?” she blurted out, surprising you.

“Hm? Oh, Last Saturday night, I drove down the road,” you pointed with your thumb behind you. “So maybe you heard me? The lights were on,” you said and sure enough, there was a red motorcycle on the road, parked right next to her gate. You were her biker from last week.

“Sorry, yeah, I heard you, I just,” she frowned, hating the shakiness of her voice. “I did hear you, I just didn’t realize it was you,” she said, suddenly feeling stupid. Of course she didn’t realize it was you. Why would she? She didn’t know you were coming back, it never even crossed her mind that you’d come back, and she certainly never imagined you coming back on a motorcycle.

You smiled, as if you relaxed due to her embarrassing stammering. “It’s okay, hey, it’s just me,” you said softly, and Cairo nodded. “By the way, I know we didn’t specify the time, so, do you need me to wait for you, or maybe come later?”

“Now is fine, I’m ready,” she said and you rubbed the back of your head nervously.

“You should put jeans or something like that on,” you muttered. “And a jacket, sorry, I should have brought another one with me,” you apologized as Cairo blushed. Yeah, her shorts probably weren’t a good idea if you were going on a motorcycle. “Or would you like me to go get my parents’ car?”

She shook her head. “No, this is fine, I’ll go get changed,” in her nervousness she slammed the doors closed and then leaned her forehead against it. “I’m so stupid,” she whispered, feeling her face burning as she pleaded or the ground to open up and swallow her. First conversation in almost seven years, the first time alone after all that time and she was a nervous wreck. And now she pretty much slammed the door in your face to make things even worse.

She ran up the stairs and changed into the first jeans she came across and grabbed a denim jacket. It would have to do, she didn’t have anything as sturdy as wheat you were wearing. She looked at the mirror and blushed even harder when she realized her face was still so red. “Come on, Cairo, get it together,” she glanced outside her window, you were still there, still waiting for her. She really should have invited you in instead of closing the doors like that.

Well, there was no going back now. She went outside again and scratched her cheek a bit as you looked her over and nodded. This would do. She followed you to your motorcycle and stopped when you pulled guards for elbows and knees and shins out.

“I’m a careful biker, but better safe than sorry. Did you ever put these on?” you asked her.

“No,” she said and you dropped down to your knee.

“It might be better if I put them on you the first time, to make sure everything is in place. Is that okay with you?” you looked at her and waited until she nodded, not trusting her voice. You didn’t waste time or any movement, from what she could tell, just putting the guards on her legs and elbows and then taking the helmet and gently put it on her and she was thankful that the visor was already down because you were tucking her hair in and your fingers accidentally brushed against her neck and she just knew her entire face was about as red as it could get.

She would have to mark this date as the day filled with embarrassment and absolutely everything going wrong for her.

~X~

You managed to calm your nerves as the two of you got on the motorcycle, Cairo even placed her hands around your waist without you telling her and that was a relief, because you could tell she was nervous, but you weren’t sure if she wanted to talk or just relax during the ride, so, you remained silent for the most part.

When you got on the open road and drove for a few miles you felt her hands unclenching from their vice grip on your jacket and she seemed to relax a bit.

“Is this okay?” you asked her through the helmet’s communication system.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Do you do this a lot?” she asked.

“You mean riding? Or having a passenger?” you grinned a bit, hoping you weren’t making her feel awkward.

“Both actually,” Cairo loosened up a bit.

“Yes, for riding, no, for passengers, well, it happened a few times, but more because we didn’t have much of a choice than because I wanted someone behind me,” you told her.

“Mhm,” she accepted the answer, leaning a bit closer to you now, though maybe that was just to be safe.

About an hour later and only a bit of occasional questions and comments about the nature you rode past, you arrived at your destination. It was exactly what you promised, the beautiful view with river flowing nearby, a mountain cottage aesthetic to the restaurant and a nice live music playing just loud enough to enhance the feel.

You and Cairo sat down across one another and she gracefully took the menu. You were still early enough for a breakfast so you knew exactly what you wanted.

“All of this looks good,” she commented. “You went here before, right?”

You nodded. “Lots of times,” you didn’t want to admit it, but you wanted to go back to go back to the village several times, to maybe see if Cairo was still there, or ask her parents for a way to contact her, but you always changed your mind in the last possible second, turning around and coming here to take a break.

“Help me out then?” she requested with a small pout on her face.

“I suggest French toast with berries and whipped cream if you’d like something sweet, or an mushrooms and onion omelet,” you said, those were by far your favorites as far as breakfast menu went.

Cairo nodded as the waiter came over.

“Hey, Y/N, you brought company this time,” he was a polite man in his late twenties, and you came to the restaurant so regularly pretty much everyone on the staff knew you by now.

“Hello, yeah,” you met her eyes, silently asking for her permission to introduce her, and as if the years changed nothing between you she smiled a bit. “This is Cairo, my childhood friend,”

He turned to her and nodded, bowing slightly. “Nice to meet you, I’m Robert and I’ll be your waiter for the day. What may I bring you?”

“I’ll have French toast with berries and whipped cream, and a Coca Cola please,” Cairo said.

Robert nodded, writing it down and turning to you.

“Mushroom and onion omelet with iced tea,” you told him.

“Coming right up,” he nodded, leaving the two of you alone.

And, as if the small interaction broke all the tension between the two of you, you just leaned forward, your arms resting on the table with your gloves and your and Cairo’s helmets safely out of the way. “Tell me everything,” you told her. “How have you been? What’s been going on these past years?”

Cairo didn’t lean as much as you, but she did get a bit closer. “I really don’t have a lot to tell you. You know how things are back home, nothing ever changes,” she said. “Well, we did get a cinema, and Winnie likes to go there often so, I guess I’ve been reluctantly watching movies.”

You laughed at that. Cairo and movies? Now that sounded almost ridiculous when you were kids. “For real? I’m glad she got you to try something new,” you replied, nodding to Robert as he brought your drinks.

“She’s persistent, but she’s been my best friend ever since I started high school,” Cairo said with a smile on her face, and you could tell she cared about the girl.

“I’m happy to hear that,” and you were, you were worried she would still be lonely, but she found a best friend, one capable of dragging her to movies of all things.

“And you? I mean, as far as best friends go?” she asked, turning the glass in front of her before opening the bottle and pouring some of the Coca Cola in.

“I haven’t really stayed in one place long enough to get to that point. My parents moved a lot until I was fifteen,” you told her. “And after that, well, they settled down, but then I began moving since I turned sixteen and got my motorcycle,” you explained. You really did move a lot, and you never really made connections worth the best friend status. After all, Cairo did set a bar pretty high.

“So, you went and began traveling,” she looked through the window. “This is my first time outside our village,” you found it hard to believe, but looking at her face you realized she was telling the truth.

“You’ll have time to explore every place you want. You’re not late for anything,” you just told her, though you couldn’t tell her that you were happy you were the first one who got to take her somewhere. There, with the last hints of morning light shining through the window and illuminating her hair you felt your breath getting stuck in your throat.

For the first time in your life you didn’t think Cairo was pretty, she was beautiful, so effortlessly beautiful you found it hard to look away. And she didn’t change much from what you could tell. She was still a lot like she was when you were kids, only more closed-off from the looks of it.

You missed her, you missed this, even if having a meal in a restaurant wasn’t something you used to do as kids, well, without your parents taking you there at the very least. No, you just missed being with her, her voice, her eyes, her smile, you missed all of that.

And in the midst of that realization, you didn’t figure out something just as important. That there was a feeling that wasn’t there before emerging in your heart.

“You think?” she sounded uncertain.

You just nodded, even if she was uncertain you’ve met enough people to know that she was exceptional.

You ended up having a lunch at the restaurant as well, talking about random things, about a book Cairo read, or about a place you visited, or a movie Winnie made her watch, or a new song she recently heard. And that eventually moved the conversation toward music.

“Do you still remember everything you hear?” she asked, smiling fondly as if she was reminiscing about good old times when you and her would spend time reading. Well, when she would read and you’d listen.

“Unfortunately,” you chuckled, remembering way too vividly that teacher reading about… split fig. “Don’t ask, I have scars I wish I could erase from my memory,” you quickly raised a hand to stop her. It wasn’t even the split fig, as much as the circumstances during which you heard it.

“Okay, okay,” she laughed, giving up on further questioning. “Did you consider learning to play an instrument?” she asked instead and you looked back toward the band.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you teased, looking back at her and watching her light up.

“You did, didn’t you?” Cairo sounded excited about the idea.

You just winked at her and hopped to your feet. “I’ll be back soon enough,” you jogged over to the band without waiting for her reply.

“Hey, Jack, mind if I borrow your guitar?” you opened with that, not even bothering to say ‘hi’ properly. You were a bit excited to play a song for her.

“Hello to you too, biker girl, which song are we playing?” he humored you, glancing behind you and seeing Cairo. He seemed to piece it together quickly enough.

“Just instrumentals this time. I don’t want to miss a thing, the guitar cover,” you told him, accepting the electric guitar and taking a seat.

You weren’t sure if Cairo would recognize the song, and maybe the lyrics would be a bit too much in case she already didn’t know the song. So, just this would do. You nodded to the rest of the band and they began playing. You waited for half a minute and then joined them and as you played you looked at Cairo, smiling back at you as she listened and swayed a bit to the soft tunes of the guitar you were playing.

Still, it didn’t look like she recognized the song, she just enjoyed the melody. And that was fine as well, perfect even as far as you were concerned.

The song ended and you thanked Jack before going back to Cairo. “I guess I can play a bit,” you said as you sat down.

“A bit? Yeah, that was a bit. What song was that?” she demanded but you just shook your head. “Come on, tell me!”

“You will never know!” you laughed, ignoring her pleading eyes.

“Please, I want to listen to it,” she tried again, but you were adamant on staying silent.

You might tell her later, not now though. She could live a bit longer without knowing the song.

~X~

The ride back was pleasant, the soft breeze, the almost empty open road, the smooth way you drove, as well as how easy it felt to just put her arms around your waist. When you parked outside her house, she almost reluctantly got off your motorcycle, but staying on it would have been too awkward to explain.

“Thank you for today, I loved it,” she said as you took off the knee and shin guards off her while she was handling the elbow guards.

“Thank you for accepting,” you reached up and helped her get the helmet off since she still wasn’t used to doing it. You didn’t take your own helmet off, just lifted your visor so she could see your eyes.

She felt at peace, she finally set foot outside her village, she just expanded her world and she did it with you. And she couldn’t think of a better person to do it with.

“I missed you,” she said, her hands reaching for your helmet and, as if in trance, you helped her take your helmet off and lowered it on your seat, and Cairo, she just stepped forward, hugging you not nearly as tightly as she wanted to do, but still, she was hugging you.

“I missed you too, Cairo,” you wrapped your arms around her and pulled her a bit closer.

She didn’t want the night to end, she wanted to invite you in, to talk more, to make up for lost time, to apologize and explain what happened that day, to tell you just how much she wanted to approach you. But she did none of that, she just separated from you once again and smiled at you as she watched you get on your motorcycle. “I’ll see you on Monday,” you said, and she nodded, eager to see you again.

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[bullet-prooflove]

Final Words: Kayce Dutton

Tagging: @kmc1989 @midnightheat @queenslandlover-93 @littledreamer9211 @spooky-librarian-ghost @atomic-art-dragon @sleepystoner326 @themarvelousmaks

Nobody talks about the year that Lee went missing.

Kayce doesn’t even know about it until he finds the stack of journals tucked away underneath a broken floorboard he’s trying to fix. The damn thing has been creaking ever since he moved into this place and it’s starting to drive him just a little crazy. When he pulls up the panel he doesn’t expect to see the collection of black Moleskine notebooks, each one thick with dust. It’s when he pulls out the first one and starts flicking through the yellowed pages that he realises that they belong to his deceased brother. He had no idea that Lee kept a journal, that he had since he was sixteen years old.

He spends the next couple of hours sat in front of the fire with a glass of bourbon, reading through them in chronological order. The first one is about normal school shit, he describes the pretty girl who sits in front of him in Lit, how she lent him a pen when he forgot his own. They end up being partners in Biology and over the next few months Kayce reads about how his brother falls in love with Anna-May, how he promised to marry her one day.

It's insight into his brother he had absolutely no clue about. There’s was ten year age gap between him and Lee. Whilst he was secretly applying to colleges, Kayce was ten years old making up songs about each of the horses in the stables, trying to figure out what words rhymed with sugarcube.

It all turns to shit when Lee announces he’s going to Berkley. He details the conversation between him and their father, the refusal to pay the tuition. Lee couldn’t apply for financial aid because of their circumstances so his dream was dead in the water before it even had a chance to get off the ground. He helps Anna-May pack her things and sends her off to California alone while he takes his rightful place at the Yellowstone.

It’s for the best, he writes, it’s not fair to put the burden of the ranch on Jamie and Kayce.

It’s a six months later that their mom dies in a riding accident and Lee accidently causes a wildfire that takes out a couple of pastures on the Eastern side of the farm.

I can’t stand this numbness anymore, it feels like I can barely breathe anymore. I need to see her.

He takes off to California a week later, in a truck stolen from the ranch. He drives it all the way up to Berkley, where he wants for Anna-May outside of her dorm. When she finally lays eyes on her, he doesn’t get out of the truck because she’s with another man, his arm slung over her shoulders as he whispers sweet nothings in her ear.

I told her to move on, Lee writes. I just didn’t realise how much it would hurt when she did.

He doesn’t come home after that, he spends the next year travelling from state to state, picking up seasonal work, he’s been in Maine for three months, chopping wood when his father finally catches up with him.

In that moment I realised there was nothing for me but that ranch, my future had been set in stone from the minute I was born, what was the point in trying to fight it anymore?

It breaks Kayce’s heart because he can feel Lee’s exhaustion emanating through the pages. His brother takes the brand that night as punishment for abandoning his responsibilities. The acknowledgement of his failure is seared upon his skin, the same way it had been upon Kayce’s.

It’s three in the morning when he finally gets to the last one, the mood starts to shift, the tone changing. Anna-May had stepped back into Lee’s life and it was like his entire world had erupted into colour again, it’s only then that Kayce realises how depressed his brother had been throughout the years. He’d hidden it well on the surface but the reality of it is etched into each of these journals.

It's when he gets to the final pages of the one he’s reading that the sonogram falls out into Kayce’s lap, his breath catches in his throat as his gaze lingers on the last few words that Lee ever wrote.

 It’s become clearer over the past couple of days that we can’t stay here at the ranch. I see the way that my father is with Tate and I know he’s already being prepared for a role he has no awareness of. I don’t want that for my son, I don’t want that for Kayce’s son. I want them both to have the choices we didn’t, to live the way they want, to be the people they want to be.

It's then that Kayce sees the truth about Lee, the weight that sat on his shoulders, day in and day out, suffocating him. It’s the same one that sits on his own because Kayce, he thought this is what Lee would have wanted, someone to take up the role, to fulfil that legacy. He’s been killing himself to trying to honor a dead man’s wishes only to discover those weren’t his wishes at all, they were those of his father, the man that’s currently grooming his son to be the next in line for the throne.

It's that night that Kayce packs his bags.

He’s leaving Yellowstone and he’s taking his son with him.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[host-club-hq]

heyyy !!! can i submit a request ? thanks !!! feel free to reject/deny this if u want to tho !!!

reader who’s from a middle to upper middle range family and they’re like in their 20’s or so and they just seem to have a lot of time and money on their hands but their family doesn’t know what they exactly do in terms of work so they confront her and ask if they’re doing drugs or nsfw work and turns out they have a bf (kyoya) who’s just really rich

thanks !!! 🫶

➼ pairing: kyoya ootori x fem!reader (slice of life!AU)

➼ summary: you come from a middle class family and all of a sudden you’ve been spending considerably large amounts of money… and your family is wondering what exactly it is you do for a living nowadays? are you in with the wrong sort of people?

➼ word count: 2.7k

➼ what to expect: "It's worth nothing if you aren't wearing it."

➼ warnings: none :) unless an excessive amount of fluff causes you to have severe heart issues (me too babe)

➼ i literally saw this request and was like oh my god i have to write it, then since i wasn't at my laptop, proceeded to write the fic in my beta reader's dms. thank u so much for this request it actually helped me get out of a writing rut :)

You never thought you would be sitting in your apartment for a living.

Well, technically, that's not what you do for a living, but it might as well be.

You work from home, with extremely short hours and a paycheck that's nothing to write home about. You could do your job from an office, but why bother? Most of the 8 hours you would work, you'd be sitting at your desk with nothing to do, your brain going numb from lack of stimulation.

Although you don't enjoy having virtual meetings with strangers, that's basically your entire job — you are a virtual history tutor, after all.

You never wanted to be a teacher but you still wanted to pass your extensive knowledge on to other generations, so you figured either being a substitute teacher or a tutor would suffice. And when the school you applied to mentioned an online tutor position, you snatched it up and ran with it.

Of course, you had a job before this. And it definitely wasn't your dream job. Before your passion for teaching arose, you took one of the first jobs you found available that called you for an interview. The secretary of a prestigious CEO of... a company that you're not quite sure what they did (you called it your Devil Wears Prada moment). You vaguely remember copying data and putting things in color-coded folders, but the position was brutal. You were set with impossible tasks and goals that your immediate superiors struggled to reach (truly, your Devil Wears Prada moment). You contemplated swerving your car into oncoming traffic every day on your way to work at 6:30 in the morning (obviously you didn't, too many innocent lives would have been put in danger).

But, at least, that's where you met-

Knock, knock, knock-knock-knock... knock, knock

Your ears immediately perk up and you turn your head toward the front door from your position on the sofa in the living room. There's only one soul alive that would knock on your door in that fashion.

You shut your laptop rather hastily and leap up to answer the door, sliding through the kitchen and the entry foyer in your socks to get there. Honestly, the distance from the front door to your workspace could have been considered a 5k marathon (no it's not, you're just out of shape).

You don't even have to glance at the peephole before you open the door to reveal-

"y/n! Oh, my dear, how are you?" You're immediately pulled into a crushing embrace and a comforting scent surrounds you.

"Mom?" You gawk, slowly encircling your arms around her to return the hug.

"I know I probably should have called but when I thought about doing it, I was already at your door. And I have to say, this is quite the upgrade!" Your mother wanders in without an invite, in awe of the clean, neat appearance of your apartment.

Well, penthouse. You take up the entire 58th floor at the top of your building. The elevator requires a reading of your house key-card to even press the button. It opens up right in front of your door.

... how did she get up here?

"How on earth did you get up here?" You voice your thoughts as her mother discards her walking shoes beside your own, slipping on a pair of guest slippers.

"I told the man in the lobby I was your mother and you would not believe the convincing I had to do to get him to let me up. He even needed my ID!"

"Well, yeah, because you don't live here-"

"Would you look at this place! My god, y/n, how do you keep it so clean? Not a speck of dust!" Your mother, true to her nature, swipes a finger across a nearby decorative table and it comes up absolutely spotless.

"Thanks, I mean it's not-"

"You even have a foyer! And a kitchen that doesn't double as the dining room!" Your mother wanders into the next room faster than you can process her presence.

"Mom, what are-" You try to best to follow her, slipping and sliding over the wooden floors in your fluffy socks.

"Really, y/n, I never pegged you to like modern furniture! I thought you liked a little character in your possessions. But, I must say, it's much better than I imagined your living situation to be." She strolls into the living room next, gawking at the mere size.

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" You frown, relieved that she seems to have finally picked a room to settle in. She sets her enormous bag on the sofa.

"What are you even doing here? Not that I don't appreciate the surprise visit..." You save quickly, smiling sheepishly at the glare she briefly sends your way.

"I wanted to see you of course. But..." She digs through her purse and pulls out a Macbook. "I came for an explanation for this." She all but waves it around. You wince.

"Careful. Why do you need an explanation for that? You mentioned you needed a better laptop and your birthday was coming up so I thought-"

"Exactly! It's perfect, it's everything I could have ever dreamed of in a laptop!" Your mother scolds. You tilt your head.

"... is that a problem?" You blink owlishly.

"First it was the watch for your father's birthday, then the mountain of stuffed animals for your little sister for Christmas, and now this!" Your mother sighs, crossing her arms after setting the Macbook on the coffee table.

"Wha- I'm sorry, I think I'm missing what the fuss is about. I tell you guys to send me your lists and you never do, so I'm sorry if it's not what you wanted-"

"It is what we wanted, that's why I'm here!" She retaliates.

"Okay, Mom, you're going to have to calm down and tell me what the problem is because I am clearly missing something here." You lead her to the coffee table, where you both lower yourselves to the floor, cross your legs, and sit beneath it.

She takes a deep, calming breath, "I'm just concerned is all. Your last job was enough for you to live and have a fair amount of money to spare, but you don't even work there anymore." Your mother places both hands on the table, avoiding your eye.

"You're right, I don't work for them anymore." You quirk a brow, curious as to where this is going.

"And now you're an online tutor who barely works more than a few hours per day, sometimes a week! So... I'm just curious..." She sighs, shaking her head.

"How are you getting the money for all of this? This is a multimillion dollar penthouse, you sent your father a 7,000 dollar watch, and you sent me a laptop worth at least a few thousand dollars." Your mother finally meets your eyes.

Before you can respond, she reaches across the table and grabs you by the shoulders.

"Just tell me the truth. Are you selling drugs? Are you stripping? Are you doing drugs? Because whatever it is, I'm sure I can talk my way into gaining your innocence in a courtroom but you have to come clean-"

"Mom! I'm not doing anything illegal!" You exclaim adamantly, shrugging her grip off your shoulders.

"Are you in credit card debt? Your father warned you about things like this, and I always thought you were a modest spender but-"

"Mom, listen to me, okay? I'm not in debt. I'm not stripping. I'm not doing drugs." You take both of her hands in yours and speak calmly. She nods, still looking a little confused.

"Then how are you getting all of the money for this?" She asks.

You chew your lip, "Well... it's not really my money-"

Just as you begin your explanation, the front door opens and shuts loudly, the sound of dress shoes click loudly against the wooden floors.

"Honey, there's someone in your house." Your mom steadies herself, reaching for her purse like she's got some sort of weapon.

"Mom? Mom!" You hiss quietly as she starts to get up.

"I'm home, darling! Are you in the living room?"

Your mother blinks at the voice calling from the foyer.

"Yeah, I'm in here!" You reply in a trembling voice, your brain trying to decide whether or not you should greet your boyfriend or calm your mother first.

Before either of you can open your mouths again, the body attached to the voice calling for you appears in the doorway.

Kyoya sheds his blazer, leaving him clad in his button up shirt tucked into his dress pants as he tosses it onto the coat rack beside him.

"I was- oh." Kyoya finally looks up, meeting your eyes first, then the worried, albeit confused, eyes of your mother.

"I'm sorry, I hope I wasn't interrupting anything." Kyoya bows politely at the presence of someone unfamiliar to him.

Your mother's instincts cause her to return the bow where she's sitting, still completely lost.

"You're not, darling." You get up from your place at the table to greet him.

Kyoya welcomes you eagerly, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, bewildering your mother further, before making eye contact with her again.

"This must be your mother. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. l/n. I've heard so much about you." Kyoya bows once more, a bit more deeply.

Your mother blinks, eyes glancing between you and Kyoya with haste.

"Mom, this is Kyoya Ootori... my boyfriend." You allow Kyoya to place a respectful arm around your back.

"Your what?" She blurts. You grimace. You knew you'd have to tell her sooner or later, but most of your high school boyfriends were intimidated by her and her doting nature.

And the fact that your father threatened to end their lives if they ever laid a finger on you.

"My boyfriend..." You sigh, almost like a scolded child.

"Ah, that reminds me. A flower for you, my dear." Kyoya sets down the shopping bag he was holding and his briefcase, handing you a rose.

"Oh, it's so pretty. Thank you." You'd rather Kyoya brought you individual flowers than an expensive bouquet since you're god-awful at keeping them alive. You peck his cheek.

"Oh, and before I forget. I saw this in a store window on my way home and I couldn't help but imagine how well it would paired with that black dress you know I like so much. I thought you could wear it to dinner." Kyoya pulls out a large, black velvet box from the shopping bag and turns toward you.

"Kyoya, we've talked about this-"

"I know. You don't like when I spend money on you but I just couldn't help myself." He opens the box to reveal a necklace glittering with diamonds, more than you can count. It glimmers in the light and you're afraid to even touch it, let alone wear it.

"Oh, my god, this must have cost a fortune." Your jaw goes slack. Your mother nosily peers over your shoulder and gasps loudly.

"It's worth nothing if you aren't wearing it." Kyoya smiles. A pretty pink hue dusts your cheeks at the compliment as your heart flutters.

"Thank you, my love. It's breathtaking." You gently take the box from him so he can gather his own things.

"Would your mother like to join us for dinner? I'm sure they won't mind moving us to a different table." Kyoya inquires innocently.

Your mother in question is still completely baffled by all of this.

"So... so you're dating my daughter? And... you're rich?" Your mother blurts.

"Mom!" You scold.

Kyoya chuckles, "I'm under the impression you hadn't been told about me. My apologies."

"Kyoya!" You scold him next.

"And... and this is... your house?" Your mother gestures to your surroundings.

"Yes, ma'am." Kyoya nods affirmatively.

"I moved in about... I want to say two months ago or so." You shrug. Kyoya nods.

"And how long have you been dating exactly?" She quirks a brow.

You nearly cringe at your answer, "... a year."

"A YEAR?" Your mother all but shrieks, earning a wince from you.

"Mom, it's not a big deal-" You reach for her to calm her down.

"It is a big deal! You've been seeing this gorgeous man with a mansion behind my back!" She gestures wildly to Kyoya, who blinks at her, brows raised at her reaction.

"Not behind your back! You never asked!" You insist.

"That's because you swore off men in high school after that boy stood you up-"

"WE don't have to talk about that." You want to shove your hands over her mouth. Kyoya quirks a brow quietly from behind you.

You sigh, "I met him while I was a secretary. He owns a portion of his father's company and was scheduled to meet with my boss."

That's the only thing you're thankful to that secretary position for. Your boss had buzzed for you to prepare two cups of tea for him and his guest. Once you brought them their tea, your attention was stolen by the man sitting across from your superior. Luckily, you didn't drop any of the china on your way in once you caught sight of him. After Kyoya was finished meeting with your boss, he struck up a light conversation with you that had your heart soaring. Simply basking in his beauty and powerful nature made you swoon.

Kyoya returned to your boss's office far more often than he ever needed to after his first interaction with you. He appeared at your desk, asking for your boss when these types of things could have definitely been handled over the phone. At first he didn't understand why he did it, but he soon realized his feelings for you when he caught himself asking you to dinner on his way out one day.

"I still don't understand why you didn't tell me you were dating this man. Let alone living with him." Your mother finally calms down enough to have your heart aching with guilt.

"I meant to, Mom, but I just... I guess I was afraid of how you'd react." You admit finally, fidgeting with your fingers.

"Kyoya helps me pay for you gifts because I want the best for you. But honestly, he can get you much nicer things than I pick out... I'm pretty sure he can buy you a house." You mutter your last sentence.

Your mother laughs, "If my daughter likes him, I like him. Come here, Kyoya." She strides forward and pulls Kyoya down for a tight embrace.

Kyoya nearly chokes, clearly rendered speechless by her sudden show of affection. He manages to reciprocate despite his shock.

"Thank you. I can assure you, I only want the best for your daughter. I'm sorry we haven't met sooner." Kyoya grins.

He has contemplated reaching out to your mother by himself despite your adamant disapproval. But he hated the idea of going behind your back to do anything at all, so he kept to himself.

"It's alright, dear. I'd love to get to know you better. Are you sure I wouldn't be a bother at dinner?" Your mother returns to the woman you know and love.

"Not at all." You shake your head, a wide grin spreading to your lips.

"I'll call the the driver, tell him to bring around the SUV rather than the Benz." Kyoya pulls out his cellphone.

"A driver?" Your mother gasps, placing a hand over her chest and glancing to you for confirmation. You nod, biting your lip eagerly.

Once Kyoya's sent the short message, your mother slots herself beside him and curls her arm around his.

"So, Kyoya, you own your father's company?" The two of them walk in the direction of your shared bedroom, side by side. You watch as they leave you standing in the living room.

"Just a portion of it, yes. We're in the medical business, you see, managing hospitals and..." Kyoya's voice fades off into the house. He doesn't seem to mind your mother's sudden attention in the slightest, even switching his jacket to his other arm to accommodate her like the gentleman he is.

You purse your lips, glancing down once more to the velvet box in your hands and you're reminded that you need to start getting ready for dinner. You follow them, rolling your eyes as you hear your mother start to ask about just how well Kyoya's been treating you.

This is going to be the longest dinner of your life.

want to read more? here's my ouran masterlist 🌹

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[smokerswifey]

Guys I had a dream last night where adult Nasiens and Percival leave Brittania after the war against Arthur to settle in a little territory/land like God's Finger .

They get married and have a little girl with dark green hair, the prettiest golden/brown eyes you've ever seen and a smile so bright she could light up the entire room .

She's the absolute love of their life . Percival is ( obviously) a girl dad and let's her messily braid his long hair or paint his face atrociously with makeup . Despite the sparkly mess on his face he'll always gasp in delight when she proudly holds up her rhinestone orned mirror to his face and hug her tightly saying " Thanks kiddo I look beautiful 😊😊 "

He's very obviously lying but the toothy grin abd the hug that he gets from his little girl is worth it .

She's basically a mini Percy but with darker hair and brown eyes .

And Nasiens gosh Nasiens loves their little girl ( I'm using they cause I don't know if in the future he's going to remain a he or a she, so I'm keeping the pronouns neutral for know ) who runs on her wee little legs to hug his knees tightly and say the most adorable things ever like " You're so prettyy Mama/Papa" or " I love you so so much more than the whooooole world " .

And Nasiens eats it allll up, plucking the little girl from the floor to tuck her into their arms and to kiss her fluffy hair adoringly .

She's a very energetic little bean, running and bouncing around at every second . A very curious and sharp kid tooo always asking questions. Like... always 💀.

She's also very good at hand to hand combat, her and Percy roughouse all the time much to Nasiens dismay .

( " PERCY YOU DID NOT JUST DROPKICK OUR DAUGHTER-"

" BUT HONEY SHE ASKED ME TOO TEACH HER !" )

For her magic tho I haven't really figured put what it is and I would really appreciate some ideas :))

As for her race she technically has human/life spirit ??/ giant and fairy blood running through her veins so there are a lot of options for her magic lmao .

Zeldris and Gelda are crazy about her .

Zel actually burst into tears when they announced that they were expecting.

He burst into tears when he heard that she was born .

And he burst into tears when he saw her for the first time .

( he was very embarrassed and forbids everyone from speaking about it but Meliodas heard and calls him crybaby now 💀 )

Anywas he's always asking Persiens to babysit her, like all the fucking time .

P : Dad its been three times in a row, we can find another sitter if ya want ?

Z : Nonsense son * plucks the baby out of Percy's arms and pulls her gently into his * You and Nasiens need some alone time hmm ?

N : Alone time can wait, Zeldris-San we really don't want to bother you-

Z : Bother me ??? * dramatically puts a hand over the baby's ears as is he wanted to shield her from what Nasiens said even tho she can't understand *Bothering me with this angel ?

* gazes into her big eyes adoringly.*

Never .

*looks to the couple*

To be honest I'm doing this more for myself than for you guys lmao, I just want to spend time with my beautiful grandaughter, isn't that right my little monster?

B : *coos happily *

Z : * strokes her cheek softly * You two can go now have fun *he says dismissively and turns around * You want grandpa to read you a story about how he killed a thousand godesses in one day ??

P : Please don't Dad .

Z : *pretends he can't hear* oh son you're too far, love you, have fun, byeee.

He would be the silliest grandpa .

And Gelda, Diane and King would have an amazing relationship with her naturally .

My imaginative juice has ran out for today but please expect ro hear more about Persiens daughter 🥰🥰.

AND COULD Y'ALL PLEASE HELP ME FIND A NAME FOR THIS FRICKIN KID I HAVE NO IDEA 😭😭

[ash5monster01]

Learning to Love Part 10

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x FemReader!PlusSize

Warnings: 18+, langauge, angst, fluff, mentions of bullying, body image issues, fat shaming, fake relationship, eventual smut, minor enemies to lovers trope.

Summary: It's not uncommon for you to be shamed for your size, it is however uncommon to be told that no one would ever date you because of it. Rafe on the other hand is used to being called a jerk, that is until he is accused of seeing people for only what's on the surface. It's purely coicidental you two meet right after these accusations are thrown your way. So even though you two don't know each other, and probably never would've looked the others way before this, now you're both going to prove a point. It's simple really, prove others wrong and don't fall in love. Easier said than done.

word count: 2.1k

Part 9 ←→ Epilogue

Masterlist

When Rafe had received that text and the realization settled he instantly called you. The tragic thing about that was the phone didn’t even ring before informing him he could no longer contact this number. You had blocked him and he had absolutely no idea as to why. He had just slept with you, had the best night of his life, and was determined to make this thing real. After that night it had to be real. Yet something happened between then and now and he wasn’t entirely sure what. He woke up with you missing and a dead phone. He decided to get some work done and now you no longer wanted to be with him.

Had he taken things too far? Were you drunk and felt like he had taken advantage of you? Maybe you were drunk and hadn’t intended to ever sleep with him and regretted it. Rafe was drunk too, but there was no way in hell he could forget that night after yearning for it for so long. The sounds you made and the way you tasted was burned in his mind and now you just expected him to forget about you? Move on and find the girl of his dreams when he already had her? Yeah right.

So Rafe was now on a mission. Determined to change your mind which is why he drives to the bar and stumbles his way inside. It’s towards the end of the lunch rush but when he spots Mila behind the bar, he instantly perks up and rushes towards her. When she spots him the glare she gives could burn him entirely. So Rafe slows his pace but still moves towards her in search of answers he’s so desperate for.

“She’s not here!” Mila says over the touch too loud music filling the bar. She wiped the counter, not daring to look him in the eye.

“Then where is she Mila?” Rafe fires back and the brunette girl rolls her eyes before dropping the rag and looking up. Her arms cross over her chest in defensive and Rafe feels guilty even though he is still unsure of what he has done.

“I’m not telling you, she wants to be alone” Mila tells him, starting to work on a drink for a customer who has flagged her for another.

“Why Mila? We were fine, I was going to come see her after work. We, we had a good night. Everything was going so well. I don’t know what went wrong!” Rafe argued and as Mila passed the drink to a customer she finally saw the distraught look on his face. All she knew is he had done something wrong. All you had said was you’d explain everything to her later but she knew that look in his eyes. He loved you and was panicking because you cut him off with no explanation. A famous move of yours to avoid confrontation.

“Look Rafe, I know as much as you don’t want to hear it but when Y/N decides something like this it comes with reason. When I get home tonight I’m gonna figure out exactly what you did even if you don’t know it. Until then, give her space. Take the rest of your Sunday and just relax” Rafe could tell she was being sincere. Her eyes held care for the both of them in this moment and as much as Rafe would lose his mind spending the rest of the day wondering what he did wrong, he was going to respect Mila’s wishes.

“Just, promise to text me. Please, she blocked me and I need to know what I did” he pleaded and Mila sighed before grabbing her phone and unlocking it.

“I’ll take your phone number but I can’t promise a text. If she doesn’t want me to contact you I’m going to respect that. She’s my friend first” Mila says with a stern tone and Rafe nods as he grabs her phone and anxiously types his number in. He fights everything in him to not text himself so he’d have her number as well and hands it back across the bar. He wanted to respect you as much as he could.

“I really care for her you know, it was always real” and he knows Mila doesn’t understand what he’s saying but she nods as Rafe turns to leave the bar and somehow survive the rest of the day without you.

It’s late when Mila finally walks through the door to your shared home. Randy was kind enough to drop her off even after he was kind enough to cover your shift. Mila couldn’t thank him enough. She’s forgotten all about it though the minute she finds you curled up on the couch with tears streaming down your cheeks. She knew you were upset, with the way you had cried on the phone, and told her you were going home. So she doesn’t ask any questions while she sits beside you and pulls you into her arms.

“It was fake you know?” you whisper out after a moment, voice raspy with tears.

“What was?” she asks, a hand running through your hair and providing a sense of comfort.

“Me and Rafe, we were fake dating. We made an agreement so it was never real” you whisper to her, your hands coming to brush some tears away which was useless since more came.

“I don’t understand, why would you need to fake date?” she questions and you sigh as you turn and look at her with glossy eyes.

“I just wanted to show the people around me that I was good enough to be someone’s girlfriend and he wanted to prove he dated girls for more than just their looks” the way your voice cracks tells Mila you had carried that burden with you to whole time. Knowing Rafe didn’t find you attractive and was using you to prove a point. Yet maybe that wasn’t entirely true, not after the hundreds of times she’s seen the way he looks at you. Even today when panicking about losing you.

“But, you guys had sex. Why would you sleep with him if you weren’t really together?” and you don’t have to answer with the way your eyes search her own. It’s written all over your face. You fell in love. You can’t say it out loud.

“What happened when you went back there?” she asks after pulling you into a hug and the harsh words you had overheard return to your mind.

“He wasn’t home so I went to his work. A coworker of his was with him, a girl he had previously dated. She was questioning him about me, saying it didn’t make sense. Then she mentioned their sex life in present tense. He had been sleeping with another girl the whole time. The last thing I heard him say was he was never attracted to big girls-“ you take a few heavy breaths, wiping the tears from your eyes before continuing. “We slept together, I thought it was real. That there was a chance we could actually be together and instead I was just another notch on the bedpost. Some one to get him off all while I trusted him”

“Oh my God, Y/N you should have told me it wasn’t real from the start! I could’ve helped you, gotten you out of this before all of this happened” she tells you with sincerity and you shake your head. Sleeping with someone was the test of ultimate trust for you and Rafe had broken that. The sad part was, it didn’t change how you felt. You still loved him even when you knew you shouldn’t.

“It’s okay Mila, I don’t regret it. Not entirely. I got to feel exactly what it was like to be loved for who I am even if it was fake. At least it felt real” and Rafe’s words ring through Mila’s head. Quickly the realization dawns on her. It was always real. You had to of misunderstood, missed some context to the conversation. Rafe said himself that it was real for him too.

“You know you deserve to be loved just the way you are? It doesn’t have to be fake” Mila tells you and as much as you want the words to be true they’re not. Yet you do what you’ve always become accustomed to when someone says this.

“Thanks Mila” and you hug her because the sentiment is cherished but after a long time of never being accepted for who you are, even the words from the people closest to you can become meaningless. After all how can you believe her when what she just said had never become true?

“Want me to stay up, we can watch a movie and make ice cream sundaes!” she offers and even though you know she’ll do it you can see the exhaustion on her face. You knew better than anyone exactly what it was like to work in that bar. So you give her a soft shake of your head.

“Don’t worry about it, I kind of want to be alone. Get some sleep” you tell her and she pouts before nodding, standing, and stretching her arms.

“If you need me, you know where to find me” she says before leaning and kissing your head. “I love you Y/N”

“I love you too Mila” you returns and she smiles before shuffling down the hallway where she more than likely would fall asleep before she could even change out of her work clothes.

Now left alone in the dark you click on the TV, surfing channels in hopes to find a romcom with a happy ending or even a sad one. You weren’t entirely sure what you wanted at the moment. That is until your phone vibrates to life, the screen illuminating your face. You can’t help but be hopeful it’s Rafe but how could it be when you had spent an afternoon blocking him on everything you had, tears blurring your vision, and making it hard to see the screen. Instead it’s an unknown number, one you had forgotten about.

unknown number

You debate even texting back, knowing you’ve been sad all day but isn’t this was you and Rafe had agreed upon. Seeing others and finding the one. You and him were officially done and never real so why should it matter if you pursue Tanner right away. You deserved to be happy after all, even if it would take a while to stop loving Rafe. So you respond to the text anyway.

It’s flirty, sure, but what did you have to lose?

Tanner

And you find yourself giggling at your phone, feeling giddy for the first time since Rafe and the first time for real in a while. Your heart may be broken but at least you were confident that you could move on. Not all hope was lost and wasn’t that comfort enough? You had been strong this whole time, lived a whole life yearning for the kind of love you deserved, and at least there was still time. It would just have to do for now.

Mila hadn’t gone right to bed though, she knew what she had to do. Yes she was upset with Rafe but she was fully confident most of this was misunderstanding. Maybe it was all fake but Mila had watched you two, seen the way you looked at each other and heard the way you laughed. You trusted him and he trusted you, it was fake but how much could you truly pretend in a relationship like that? So even though she hadn’t promised anything she pulled her phone out anyway.

She didn’t need to say who she was. She knew Rafe would know when he received that text into the late hours of the night. What she hadn’t expected was his immediate response back.

Rafe

And maybe Mila didn’t know Rafe as well as you but reading this text she knew it to be true. It’s possible Rafe had broken many promises in a lifetime but this is one she knew he’d keep.

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[zepskies]

Smoke Eater - Part 13

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

AN: For those who didn't catch my announcement on Monday, I released Part 12 earlier this week! Now, on to a confrontation I think a lot of you have been waiting for...

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 7,200 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Attempted sexual assault. Protective Dean, angst, hurt/comfort.  

Part 13: “Boiling Point”

Usually, Christmas was your absolute favorite time of the year.

This holiday was a baker’s dream, and you and your grandmother used to volunteer at the church bake sale every Christmas Eve. Grandpa George had done his best to help you in the years after she died…but you just didn’t have it in you this year.

You considered it an accomplishment that you pulled down some of the decorations from the attic, putting them up around your house, and buying a little four-foot tree (also hauling it into the house yourself). However, you knew that you wouldn’t be alone on Christmas Day, at least.

Sam and Dean had already invited you over to spend it with them. You would have the chance to get to know Eileen better, and you would even get to meet the famous John Winchester…

But you still had one reason to dread the end of the month.

Nick Savage threw a Christmas party every year. It was equal parts celebration and networking, and as a top performer of the sales division, you were expected to come.

The problem was, this time the party was going to be held at his house.

“You can’t just not go?” Andréa asked, shortly before taking a massive bite of her burrito. The two of you were grabbing dinner together after another long day at the office, followed by a movie later.

You’d realized just how much you had missed your best friend.

“Yeah, that’ll be great for me. Josh will get to chat up the whole team and get them clamoring to kiss his dick. Nick will give him the Sales Manager position just to spite me,” you said, while picking at your taco salad. “He keeps pitting us against each other for his own enjoyment, but I swear to God he harps on me the most.”

Andréa frowned. “Are you sure Nick just doesn’t have a thing for you? It sounds like he’s a little boy, picking on a girl he likes.”

You pursed your lips. She still didn’t know the full extent on your boss’s thing with you. You hadn’t told her about the last time Nick cornered you in his office, dangled a promotion in front of you, and basically gave you an ultimatum: sleep with him, or don’t move up in the company.

You hadn’t told anyone, for that matter.

You were just trying to figure out how to not get fired, while still getting compensated for your hard work. Was that too much to ask? 

Apparently, it was.

“I don’t give a flying fuck what he thinks about me,” you said vehemently.

It earned your friend’s gaze, and her raised eyebrows. 

“Whoa,” she chuckled. “Easy there, Miss Congeniality. That’ll be sure to earn you the promotion.”

“No, really,” you said. You stabbed into your salad with a fork. “I’m so fucking sick and tired of having to tap dance my entire work life around him. He’s a goddamn child who thinks he can have whatever he wants just because Daddy gave him his own little kingdom!”

Andréa eyed you more with concern. Her hand reached for your arm. Meanwhile, you were forcing slower breaths through your nose.

“You okay?” she asked. “I don’t like the ‘crazy town’ look in your eyes right now.”

“I’m fine,” you grumbled. “Just hangry, I guess.”

You took another bite of your food. Andréa gave you a skeptical look, but she let it go for now, with a smirk.

“Yeah, well. Eat a Snickers, bitch. I don’t need you snapping on me again,” she teased.

You rolled your eyes, but you had to laugh a little. You shoved at her shoulder.

She gripped her own arm in fake panic. “Someone call the cops! This crazy woman just punched me out over a salad!”

You tried to shush her, even though you were giggling. Your head swiveled around in the restaurant, giving apologetic eyes to the people around you.

“Although, $20 for a few sprigs of romaine lettuce and a sliver of chicken? That’s worth punching somebody the fuck out,” she said, throwing down her napkin. “Let’s never come here again.”

“Agreed,” you nodded. “I don’t think they’ll let us back here anyway.”

A few days later, you didn’t want to admit you were stressing out over this night.

“Have I said thank you? Because I mean it. Thank you for taking time off for this,” you said, smoothing down the nonexistent wrinkles in Dean’s blazer.

He looked good in black. It was classic, and the new suit was smart without being “too much” for him. (Sam had taken him to his “suit guy,” as Dean called it.)

Dean grabbed your arms to stop your slightly flustered hands. He smirked down at you as his eyes once again took in your dark red dress. It was simple and sleeveless, but elegant, falling just above the knee. Of course, you had to be wearing the tallest pair of black heels he’d ever seen.

“It’s no sacrifice, believe me,” he replied.

You smiled, but he noticed something behind your eyes.

“You okay?” he asked. “Seems like you don’t really want to go to this thing.”

“I don’t,” you admitted on a sigh. “But my boss will know if I’m not there…I told you about the open Sales Manager position, right?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Dean nodded. His smile slid into a frown as he watched you bustle around your room, looking for your purse while you smoothed out the soft waves you’d managed to style your hair in, checking your eyeliner and lipstick too in the mirror.

“As usual, it’s down to me and Josh,” you said. “If I keep my numbers up and use tonight to network with my own team, get the rest of the guys on my side, maybe Nick will see that I’m the right choice.”

Dean came up behind you, resting a hand on your lower back.

“And this manager job…that’s what you want?” he asked.

You turned to him with a questioning look. “Well, yeah. I’ve been working here for five years, busting my ass.”

“And I got no doubt that you’re good at what you do,” Dean said. “But you do know, there hasn’t been a day since I met you that you didn’t have something crap to say about that job, and those people you work with.”

You frowned, and you thought about what he was saying. Sure, you complained about Nick, but did you really talk that much shit about your job?

“Everyone has things they don’t like about their work,” you reasoned. “Even you have your bad days.”

Though he tended to keep those days to himself, you knew when he’d had a tough call at the firehouse. You’d been trying your best to be a listening ear if he needed it, or if not, at least a soothing presence. It was more often the latter with Dean.

He acknowledged your point with a nod. “Okay, fair enough. I don’t know…I just think you’re wasting your talent.”

Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Sweetheart, you’re like…an artist. It’s nothing me, or Sam, or Andréa, or anybody in your life hasn’t told you before,” said Dean. “You went to school to do your dream. And I know life happened. But I also know that when I walk into the firehouse, it’s exactly where I’m supposed to be. Can you say that when you walk into the Savage building?”

You took in a breath. You understood what he was saying, but as much as you wanted to indulge the fantasy of owning your own business, being your own boss, creating your own menu, and giving people quality baked goods…you had to live in reality here.

Opening a brick-and-mortar business was expensive. And most restaurants, even bakeries, weren’t profitable for at least one to three years. You still had plenty of bills, and not even a car since the accident.

“I’ve invested too much time here to quit, Dean,” you said.

The conversation died there, but it left something new and awkward between you two. You tried to put it out of your mind while he drove you both over to the “filthy fucking rich” side of town, through a massive gate, and into a wide parking lot that had a valet driver waiting. Nick’s ridiculous house was a monument to trust fund kids everywhere. 

Dean reluctantly handed over the keys to the Impala.

“No donuts in the parking lot.” He eyed the 20-something-year-old valet with all due scrutiny. “Trust me, I’ll know.”

You smirked and slipped your arm around his to tug him up the steps, toward the large double doors of the house.

“Come on, Rambo. Baby’ll be fine without you.”

“You don’t know that,” Dean quipped back. Still, he moved his arm out of yours, just to wrap it around your waist and pull you against his side. His lips pressed against your cheek.

“You look sexy as hell,” he said lowly near your ear. “Did I forget to mention that?”

“No.” Your smile deepened. “But doesn’t hurt to mention again. I might just have to reward my boyfriend for humoring me tonight, getting all dapper himself.”

You and Dean made it up to the porch and you knocked on the door. He shot you a raised brow as his lips tugged upwards.

“Oh, yeah? We talkin’ lace or satin?” he asked. His lips brushed your temple.

You pretended to think. “Little of both, actually. It’s new. And it’s red…and I might just be wearing it right now.”

Dean’s brows shot up in surprise. His gaze subtly dragged over your every curve, as if he had x-ray vision to spy through your dress. You maintained an enigmatic smile.

“Oh, you’re diabolical,” he muttered. His hand moved down to playfully squeeze your ass. You had to bite your lip to stifle the sound you made, as that’s when the doors finally began to swing open.

Dean’s hand moved up a respectable few inches, resting on your waist.

You both smiled and greeted the attendant who let you into the house.

A quick text let you know that Benny and Andréa were already here, each holding a flute of champagne. You and Dean met up with them in the huge living room space (which might has well have been a grand hall, for how large it was).

It held 50 people easily, but the party was already spanning the entire house, of at least two stories. It made your house look like a modest Barbie Dream home, without the pool attachment.

And Nick Savage was at the center of it all, greeting each guest and their “plus ones.”

When he spotted your group, he smoothly excused himself from the conversation with Josh and his wife, and headed over to you.

“Incomiiing,” Andréa quietly sing-songed. She sipped her champagne.

You steeled yourself, and you did your best to give a polite smile when Nick arrived with a pleasant “Merry Christmas.” You forced yourself to remain still when his hand fell on your arm, and he reached out to shake Dean’s hand in greeting, followed by Andréa and Benny. 

“Welcome, you guys,” he said, giving you a smile that hid just a hint of a smirk. “Justin let you know where everything is, right? Lotsa drinks, the good stuff, I promise. Plenty of food, hot chocolate and eggnog fountains, if that’s your thing. And a hell of a lot more out back by the pool.”  

“Great, thank you,” you nodded politely.

“All right! Let’s party,” Nick fist-pumped in the air. He pointed towards you and Dean. “You need a drink in your hand, stat.”

“I’m fine for now. Going to wait until I have something to eat first,” you replied. If you were going to get a glass of wine, it wouldn’t be one that Nick handed to you.

He pouted a little, but he looked at Dean next. “How about you, big guy? What you drinkin’?”

Dean shot you a glance, but before he could respond, Nick interrupted.

“You look like a whiskey guy. Am I right?” he asked.

Dean inclined his head. “Guilty.”

“Perfect. See? I’ve got an instinct for people,” Nick said, tossing you a wink as he headed for the nearby bar. “I’ll be back. You crazy kids relax and have fun.”

You had to admit, he knew how to turn on the charm when he had to. But who the hell said crazy kids under the age of 45?  

“He’s uh…got pep,” Benny remarked.

Andréa snorted and tapped her glass. “He’s a few shots in already.”

“You think?” Dean asked.

You nodded in agreement, rolling your eyes. If there was one thing you could count on, it was for Nick Savage to be drinking.

“He knows how to act when everyone’s watching,” you said. 

You looked up at the high-vaulted ceilings and expensive artwork on the walls, not noticing how Dean glanced at you with the edge of a frown.

At the very least, the food was excellent. It was served in a large back room that served as a banquet hall, meant for entertaining.

There you and Dean actually had a good time, with you sipping on red wine and Dean on a glass of the “good stuff,” all while playing cards with Andréa and Benny and a few of your coworkers on the sales team.

“I just can’t believe Adam quit, to join our main competitor, no less,” said Marv. “I had absolutely no idea he was thinking of leaving.”

He was the team gossip. He prided himself on knowing every coming and going on the sales floor, which confounded you, since Marv was also a bit of a hermit. He either kept to his office like it was a bomb shelter, or you could catch him in the break lounge grabbing yet another coffee, all the while keeping his ear perked up for scraps of conversation.

“Yeah, you did, Marv,” you replied with a smirk. “You’re the one who saw Adam’s resignation letter on his own desk.”

He hadn’t even handed said letter to Nick yet.

“Well, I knew it then, obviously,” Marv said, with his hands open wide. “It leaves us without a manager…which I think, not for long.”

His eyes met yours knowingly.

You smiled. “We’ll see. I think Josh is playing kiss-ass tonight.”

You turned your head and spotted Nick and Josh taking shots of tequila together at the bar, with the latter wincing at the burn with a lime peel in his mouth. Josh’s wife was sitting off to the side, rolling her eyes.

Your gaze focused on your boss for a moment. You shook your head at the state of him, with a loose tie and the top buttons undone on his shirt, laughing boisterously and egging Josh on.

Fucking frat bros.

“That’s your boss, huh?” Benny remarked.

“In all his Cuervo-stained glory,” Marv replied. He shook his head as well.    

It made you realize something.

As nice a time as you’d been having, for about an hour at most, your good mood soured the moment you were reminded of the office politics. Of Josh and Nick and everything in between. Was this really what you wanted for the rest of your career?

The rest of your life?

Maybe Dean was right, you thought. You knew you were good at your job. You knew you were fortunate to even have a job that paid your bills…but maybe “being good” wasn’t enough for you.

If there was one thing you’d learned from your grandfather’s death, it was that peace was precarious. And sacrificing too many parts of yourself, for money, wasn’t a fulfilling life or even a happy one.

You wanted to be happy. You also wanted peace.

So you leaned over and laid a hand on Dean’s, which rested on the round table.

“Hey,” you whispered.

His head bowed near yours. “Hmm?”

“Wanna get out of here?” you asked. He raised his brows at you.

“Really? I thought you needed to stay and schmooze with your people,” he replied.

You smiled and drew your thumb across the inside of his wrist. “I think I’m done.”

Dean looked a bit confused. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. And you brushed your lips against the corner of his mouth. “You were right. It’s not worth it.”

A flicker of a smile began to tug at his lips, but his brows drew together.

“Hey. Are you sure?” he asked. “Don’t bow out just because of me—”

Your hand tightened on his wrist.

“No, baby. It’s me. My choice,” you said. “Let me just use the restroom real quick, and we can go.”

Dean nodded, and you stood.  

“What, are you leaving?” Andréa asked. She was tucked into Benny’s side with a piece of red velvet cake poised on her fork. “You didn’t even finish your cake!”

You laughed. Turning down dessert was a big deal for you, but you’d live.

“It’s okay,” you said. “I just need to call it a night, but I’ll be back in a sec to say goodbye. Hold on.”

Andréa blew out a breath as you walked away from the table.

“She’s gonna miss the White Elephant gift exchange. Last year, someone got a 60” smart TV,” she said.

Benny whistled.

“I wouldn’t mind an upgrade,” he said. He shot Dean a glance. “What do you think the guys would do if we showed up with something like that to the station?”

Dean scoffed. “I think the Chief would have a damn conniption.”

Bobby was old-school. He thought they had enough distractions from the job as it was.

“Probably right,” Benny chuckled.

Andréa smiled in amusement. But her eyes clocked the way Nick glanced your way as you walked by, down the hall and to the right. She sipped at her glass of pinot grigio to wash down the rich cake.

Still, she discreetly watched the man down another shot before he took his leave of the bar. He laughed at something Josh said and waved him off.

She gave Nick credit for not stumbling on his feet, and only swaying slightly on the same path you took down the hall. It didn’t mean he was following you, necessarily. This house was like a small Smithsonian. And yet, something niggled in the back of her mind. 

Andréa remembered how you’d acted at dinner the other day when talking about Nick. And how drained you’d seemed lately when she saw you after work. She’d thought that was just about finding your way after George’s death…

Marv distracted her with a question as Dean and Benny continued to talk, and she answered him with her usual charm. But she kept one eye on the hallway, waiting for you to come back.

She made it about another minute before she turned to Benny and Dean, leaning in close.

“Hey, Dean,” she said. “Maybe you want to check on her? She’s taking a while.”

Dean didn’t look concerned as he checked his watch. It hadn’t been all that long, but he still pulled out his phone to text you.

“She left her purse here,” Andréa said. She started to get up out of her seat. “I’m just gonna go see if she’s okay.”

Benny grabbed her hand before she left the table.

“What’s wrong, babe?” he asked. 

“I’m not sure,” she said, but she met Dean’s confused gaze. “Okay, look. I’ve been noticing some things with her recently. I have no evidence except for how well I know that woman, but something’s off with her. It happens every time she talks about that asshole Nick.”

Dean’s brows furrowed as he tried to read between the lines.

“What’re you saying exactly?” he asked.

Andréa let out a breath. “I’m saying, I’ve got a bad feeling.”

You hummed as you washed your hands in the bathroom. Wine runs right through me. I should know better.

You’d also been trying to quell your anxieties and just get through the night. But you realized now that there was no kind of calm like the peace you had, now that you knew what you needed to do. Starting tomorrow, you were going to start looking for a new job.

A knock at the door made you jolt slightly.

“Someone’s in here!” you called without looking over your shoulder. You finished washing your hands and dried them on the hand towel hanging on a silver wall rack.

The door cracked open, but before you could protest, a man stumbled in.

Of fucking course it was Nick Savage.

“Excuse me?!” you breathed in shock. You watched with wide eyes as he pushed the door closed and seemed to take notice of you for the first time. He smirked.

“Oh, hey,” he said. Somehow, he was only slurring a little. He straightened his white blazer. The black satin shirt he wore was wrinkled and he smelled heavily of tequila, and that was with a couple of feet of distance between you two.

Your shock finally melted into a glare. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Gotta take a leak. It’s my house after all,” he shrugged, leaning a hand on the wall closest to the door for balance.

You shook your head, and with a huff, you tried to get by him.

His hand wrapped around your arm. “Hey, we didn’t get a chance to catch up tonight.”

You shoved his hand off of you.

“Don’t you ever in your life touch me again,” you warned him. Your eyes were as hard as your voice. “I don’t think there’s anyone on the planet—no. In the whole damn universe who sickens me more than you, Nick Savage.”

Nick straightened a little, frowning at you. Whatever he saw in your gaze, he didn’t seem to like the challenge. When you reached for the doorknob again, he grabbed your arm and shoved you hard into the nearest wall.

You gasped as the air rushed out of your lungs. Before you even realized what was happening, you felt his clammy hands on your bare shoulders, his hot alcoholic breath on your face. You raised your hands in defense, pushing against his chest.

He was taller and stronger and pinned you harder against the wall, with his knee shoving its way between your legs. You stared up with wide eyes of fear, and his hand clamped over your mouth to stifle your scream.

Your nails bit into his arm and wrist, trying to peel back his sweaty hand, just an inch to free your voice and let you breathe. To your left you heard the door bang open.

Please—

And the hand was peeled away entirely.

You could only blink and watch as Dean barreled through, grabbing Nick and bodily hurling him away. Nick opened his mouth to spout something angrily, but Dean continued to stalk forward and grab the man again.

Nick attempted a lazy swing at Dean’s head, but he bat it away. His fist connected roughly with Nick’s face, snapping his head back with a cry.

It was almost too fast for you to track what was happening right in front of you, but Dean dragged the drunkard the rest of the way across the bathroom, even over the tub, and slammed him against the beige tile so hard that it knocked a few of them loose. Nick’s head smacked audibly against them and he groaned at the impact.

The men were around the same height, but Dean was honed by years of firefighting and fueled by rage. One hand gripped high on Nick’s collar, while his arm pressed against the man’s chest. Then into his throat.

“Give me a reason,” Dean said, in a voice much calmer than he felt. Behind his eyes was wildfire.

“What?” Nick choked.

You finally broke through enough of your shock to know you had to do something.

“Dean!” you uttered. You cautiously went to him, but he glanced at you over his shoulder in warning.

“Stay there,” he told you firmly. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you said, even though your voice shook. “Let���s just go.”

Despite the blood dripping down from his likely bruised nose, Nick chortled a laugh. It earned Dean’s slow head turn, returning his attention to the decision at hand. His fist tightened in Nick’s shirt.

“You heard me,” Dean said. His voice was laced with steel. “I said give me a reason not to break your miserable fucking neck.”

“Dean,” you gasped.

“Not sure that’s a good idea, fireman,” Nick slurred. “I clearly don’t have all my wits about me right now. Can’t be held lia…li-ble for my actions, now can I? I’ll have your badge by end of the week.”

You let out a harsh breath and finally went to Dean. You laid a hand on his back. Every muscle was tense and straining under his white dress shirt.

“Dean,” you pressed. “Let him go. He’s not worth it.”

Nick smirked lazily in Dean’s face. It was the look of a man who was used to getting his way.

“I’d listen to her,” he said, with a mocking glint in his eyes. “Or I could just fire her on Monday. Make it easy on myself.”

Dean seethed. His forearm slowly rolled harder into the man’s neck, pressing on his windpipe. The sounds of choked air were satisfying.

“Yeah, or I’ll have the police down here in ten minutes or less,” said Dean. “I’ll clue you in on a little something. My dad’s a cop. I’ll reckon he’ll be happy to put a fucking douchebag like you in the can with the real charmers.”

Dean gave a mocking glance to Nick’s silk shirt, his gold pinky ring and loafers.

“How long do you think it’ll take for one of ‘em to make you their little bitch?” Dean said.

Nick glared back at him, with a frisson of intimidation behind his eyes. He glanced at you over his shoulder. Dean noticed and tightened his hold.

“Don’t you look at her, you piece of shit!” he warned. His voice was low and dangerous. “Make your choice. You gonna come down to the station easy, or difficult? Please say difficult.”

Nick held up placating hands. He shifted uncomfortably against the wall; one foot was planted on the ground while the other was in the tub. The shower curtain was half off its hooks.

Dean eased up enough for Nick to take a breath.

“Okay, let’s say we do that,” he said, with a cough. “I’ll get bail. Then I’ll fucking walk, ‘cause I own this town.” 

“You mean your dad does,” you snapped.

Nick rolled his eyes. “Same name, same shit, sweetheart.”

Dean grit his teeth and tightened his grip again in warning. You wrapped your hand around his arm, but he didn’t budge.

Nick met his eyes.

“How about this. Get your greasy fucking hands off me, and we’ll call tonight a wash,” he proposed. “No foul, we all take our balls and go home.”

He then snorted at his own joke. “Balls…”

Dean tilted his head, but didn’t move a muscle. “Or?”

Once again, Nick smirked.

“I’ll report you to your boss for assaulting me in my own house. And uh, she’ll be fired, obviously.” He shrugged. “By the time my lawyers get done with her, she won’t be able to sling lattes at Starbucks.”

Dean’s face was stony, tight with outrage. His whole body was coiled like a spring as every cell in his body fought against ripping this man apart.

But he still felt your hands around his arm, trying to pull him back.

“Dean, don’t. He’s not worth your career. Please,” you begged.

The bathroom door pushed open again, and he heard Benny’s voice.

“Hey, brother.” He dropped a careful hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Come on, now. You got him. Ease up now.”

Dean’s teeth ground together. He looked down, and his stare bored into Nick’s. Dean pressed his forearm into the other man’s throat again, enough to almost feel the give as the man struggled for breath.

“Remember how that feels,” Dean said icily. “20579, Dean Winchester. The next time you want to threaten my badge, that’s my number.”

Nick’s eyes widened slightly. At the time, Dean took it as fear. But really, it was recognition.

Winchester, Nick thought.

Dean then leaned in closer, so only Nick would hear his next lowered words.

“First and last warning,” Dean said. “If you touch her again. If I hear anything more about you giving her a hard time, not a dime in the world is gonna save you from me.”

When Dean finally pulled his arm away and let go, Nick’s face was red and spluttering as he coughed and slumped into the bathtub.

Dean turned on his heel in anger and disgust. Andréa was supporting you with her arm around yours, but she released you to let Dean take over. You stared up at him with tearful eyes, and you reached for his hand.

He took it with his left, holding you steady. He then wrapped an arm around your shoulders and guided you out of the bathroom.

The air was tense and silent inside the Impala. It was a long drive back to your house, and Dean hadn’t looked at you once in 20 minutes. His gaze was firmly on the road. He hadn’t even turned on the radio.

You had his suit jacket draped around your frame, but your insides still felt cold. You glanced over at him and stared at his profile for a moment, wishing you knew what to say to break the silence. To reassure him that you were fine. (Even though it would've been a lie.)

He felt your stare and turned his head towards you.

“How long has this been going on?” he asked. His voice was gruff. “Andréa said she’s been noticing something off about you for a while.”

Your lips pressed together. “Can this part wait until we get home…please?”

Dean’s jaw ticked, but he turned back to the road ahead.

The car was silent for the rest of the hour.

It was a relief to turn the key into the door lock and step through the threshold of your house. Dean followed you inside and tossed his wallet and car keys on the side table by the door.

Somehow he always managed to miss the little basket you put there for exactly those things, but you weren’t about to remind him.

You slipped off your heels and went into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, to steady yourself. Dean leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. He didn’t say anything, but you still felt his eyes on you.

With a sigh, you turned and met his gaze.

“Just tell me,” he said. “How long?”

You took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

“It started before I even met you, Dean.” 

His brows raised high. He tilted his head at you as incredulous anger tightened his face.

“What?” he said. “You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

You shook your head and grabbed his arm. “Okay, come here.”

You led him into the living room and sat beside him on the couch. You explained that it started small, with compliments on your clothes, your hair. Then it was lingering looks, “innocent” brushes of his hand, touching your arm, your shoulder.

When you’d tried to put distance between you and Nick, the drunken shenanigans began. The comments grew heinous and sickening, and so did his threats.

And nothing you did worked. Not distance and professionalism. Not refusing his advances outright. Not threatening to go to HR.

All while you spoke, Dean was quiet, but on edge. You saw it in how he gripped his knee, with his other hand fisted against his mouth, elbow resting on his thigh.

But the hardest part of the conversation came when you told Dean about the day of the car accident—how Nick had demanded you come to his office and gave you a sickening ultimatum.

At that, Dean could no longer remain still. He got up and started to pace across the living room. He was a man of action, you knew, and his reaction was almost everything you’d feared.

I should've told him, you thought. You knew.

Although you now felt relieved, even in your guilt, you also knew this next part wasn’t going to be fun either. Because Dean finally erupted.

“And you didn’t tell anyone?” he asked.

Briefly, you closed your eyes. “No.”

“Why? Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” His hand buried itself in his hair as his jaw clenched. Even if your friend Andréa hadn’t known, she’d still seen enough to suspect something. It completely blew his mind, in the worst of ways.

“Jesus Christ!” he shook his head. “Why am I always the last one to know when something’s going on with you?”

Tears watered in your eyes as you looked up at him. You opened your mouth to speak, but he cut you off.

“I mean, really. What are we doing here, huh?” he exclaimed, his hands open wide. “Honestly, tell me. Because if you can’t trust me, then I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

Your eyes widened, a trill of panic lacing down your spine. You stood up and went to him. 

“Dean, please, it wasn’t about that,” you said. You implored him with your eyes to understand. “I wanted to tell someone…God, you don’t know how bad I wanted to tell you. But I knew how you’d react. Just like this. I didn’t want to make the situation worse!”

He frowned deeply. “You didn’t want help? You didn’t want me to protect you?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” you snapped. But then, you sucked in a shaking breath, trying to calm yourself. You got closer and rested a hand against his chest.

“Of course I’m grateful that you protected me. Dean, I love you for it.”

You grasped the ends of his jacket with both hands. All you really wanted to do was bury yourself in his warmth and sleep for the next ten years. You were still raw and frayed inside.

Dean looked down at you, and his heart clenched. He couldn’t help but hold you back. His arms wound around your lower back as he pulled you against him. His chin rested above your head, and you sighed in relief.

“I thought I could handle it,” you confessed, in a smaller voice. “I worked so damn hard…I wanted to fight for my job. But Nick knew I didn’t have the money or the resources to fight back for real if I reported him, or even if I sued him. And before tonight, I didn’t have enough to take to the police.”

Dean pulled away just enough to see your face. He grasped your arms, gentle but firm.

“I’ll take you to the station right now,” he said. “My dad can help you. Hell, Sam can help you.”

You bit your lip and shook your head.   

“You heard him, Dean. With his money and connections, he’ll get off. And then he’ll make both of our lives hell,” you said. “He’ll go after your badge—”

“He can fucking try,” he snapped.

“Stop, okay? I don’t want that,” you pleaded.

A sharp breath escaped through his nose, and he let you go.

“You’re fucking impossible, you know that?” he said. “How can I help you if you won’t let me?”

He was beside himself with frustration, and even hurt. You knew it in the way he tried to walk away from you, but you reached for his arm to stop him, with tears burning in your eyes. You didn’t want him to think that you didn’t want his support. That you didn’t trust him.

Because that couldn’t have been any farther from the truth.

“I’m sorry!” Your tears finally escaped, trailing down your cheeks. You tugged him back towards you, earning his furrowed glance. “I was…scared. I…I didn’t know what to do. Maybe I just didn’t want to deal with it at all.”

The longer Dean looked at your face, the more he crumbled.

Once again, he turned to gather you back into his arms. And there your tears fell in earnest. Your body trembled with quiet sobs, and he held you tighter. His heart broke a little more as his hand soothed over your hair. He shushed you more gently, pressing his lips to your forehead.

“Okay. It’s okay. Don’t apologize. You shouldn’t have had to deal with this, let alone for this damn long,” Dean said. His gaze raised heavenward for a moment as he mentally kicked himself. You didn’t deserve this, or his anger either. 

He just couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed any signs, like Andréa had. All these months… It threatened to drive him up a fucking wall.

“You’re safe, and I’ve got you,” he said, continuing to hold you securely against him. “We’ll handle this, like everything else.”

After a moment, you nodded, letting out another shaky breath. You squeezed your eyes shut and buried your face into his chest.

You already knew you must’ve looked a state, after the night you’d had, but you didn’t truly realize it until you were looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror. Mascara and lipstick smudged, hair disheveled, tears staining your cheeks.

Ugh. You hastily scrubbed your face clean with makeup wipes. Then you tamed your hair, brushing through the frizz and calming it back into relative normalcy.

You went for the zipper of your dress next, but you couldn’t get it down all the way. You turned to look over your shoulder.

“Dean,” you called. 

He was in your room, rifling through his bag to grab the clothes he’d brought to sleep in.

“Yeah?” he answered.

“Come ‘ere a sec?”

He obliged you, drawing into the bathroom. His white dress shirt was only half unbuttoned, the sleeves rolled up. You met his eyes in the mirror.

“Can you unzip me?” you asked.

Dean looked down where your hands were holding both sides of the zipper on your dress. He took one side from you and unzipped it the rest of the way, stopping at the small of your back. He caught sight of the red, sheer lingerie underneath.

Noticing the way he paused, you smiled slightly. You turned toward him and tugged the dress down the rest of the way, so he could see the rest of the ensemble. It was a simple corset-style nightie, but true to your word, the lace was paired with satin trim lines.

Your hands ran up his sternum and undid the last buttons on his shirt. You grasped near his collar and leaned up on your toes for a slow kiss. Dean unconsciously held you to him by your shoulders, his eyes closing at the feel of you.

But when they next opened, he caught sight of the bruise on your shoulder. It was about the size of a thumbprint.

His throat tightened. After a moment, he parted from you, but he didn’t continue where you left off. You looked up at him in confusion.

“Baby?” you asked.

Dean shook his head. He couldn’t answer you; couldn’t even articulate what the hell was in his head. So he just turned and went back into the room for his change of clothes. It left you frowning, bereft, and worried.

You changed into an old shirt and some shorts before you got into bed. You slipped under the covers and watched Dean. He sat with his back to you as he unclipped his watch and set it down on the nightstand. By now he’d changed into his faded, gray Lawrence Fire Department shirt and a pair of sweatpants.

Your throat constricted with emotion, namely with anxiety.

“Are you still mad at me?” you asked.

Dean paused. He glanced back at you, saw you laying there with a hand gripped into the covers. His brows furrowed when he saw your shining tears.

He turned and got into bed with you. He slid his arm under your head and wordlessly encouraged you to come closer. His free hand soothed across your arm.

“I’m not mad at you,” he said at last. But he was still upset, and deeply unsettled. As the night replayed in his mind, he knew that at the root of his fury, there was fear. 

“I just keep thinking,” he said. “What would’ve happened if I hadn’t called out of work tonight.”

You looked down at that. You laid a hand on his chest.

“I wouldn’t have gone to the party,” you said. Though if you were honest with yourself, you probably would’ve thought yourself safe with Benny and Andréa. “I just…I really didn’t think he would try to—”

You tried to take a breath to steady yourself, but it was a tremulous release. The memory flashed behind your eyes, the remnants of panic and fear under your skin.

You didn’t realize you were crying until Dean’s hand was caressing your cheek, brushing away your tears.

“All right, shhh. I’m sorry, sweetheart. It’s over,” he said. Once again, he pulled you into his arms and held you close. Guilt hit him between the ribs for upsetting you all over again. “I promise you’re safe, and I’ve got you.”

You did your best to take in deep breaths, letting them out more steadily. Dean wanted to put the matter to bed for tonight. He really did…but he couldn’t help pressing one last thing.

“Just tell me you’re not going back there on Monday, unless it’s to HR,” he said. 

You paused, shook your head a little. You didn’t want to rev him up again, but you knew Nick. 

“He doesn’t make idle threats, Dean,” you reminded him. “But there’s a reason why he waited until tonight, at his house. He’s not going to try his luck at the office, where everyone’s watching.”

“You don’t know that,” Dean retorted.

You saw his point, but you almost didn’t want to acknowledge it. You couldn’t afford to quit.

“I still need my job, for now,” you said. “But I will start looking for something else, so I can get out as soon as possible. I promise.”

Dean wasn’t happy. Both of you knew it. You also sensed that he wanted to argue more, but was holding back for now. You appreciated that.

You truly didn’t want to get into it anymore with him. You just wanted to close your eyes and try to forget about tonight, knowing that you’d fail. 

Dean still held you, with his hands rubbing up and down your back. His touch and his heartbeat soothed you until you managed to fall asleep. 

AN: Dean knows, and it ain't pretty. What did you think of the confrontation? Unfortunately, I'm drawing from real events here (not myself).

Next Time:

The mystery of "Azazel" thickens, Dean deals with another tricky fire, and the reader has a realization of her own...

“Yeah, well. This one’s a rat bastard in human clothing,” you replied.

“Ooh, sounds like my old biology professor,” Jo chimed in. She was drying out some newly clean glasses behind the counter along with Ellen. “He had a reputation for scoping out freshman girls.”

You made a gagging sound as you reached for the delectable martini glass Ellen slid your way.

“Men are disgusting,” you said. Jo snorted.

“99.8% of them, yeah,” she said. But her gaze drew towards the door when Dean Winchester came in. And she added, “A few of ‘em are all right.”

Was it just you, or was there a softer look in her blue eyes when she noticed Dean?

Keep Reading: PART 14

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

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@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

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[iamjustaholeforyousir]

Arrogant Son of a Bitch

summary: your father has been searching for suitors for you, and you finally come across an infamous prince, known for all the wrongs amongst the youngs.

warning: slight angst? bit of foul language, bad father figure.

word count: 1222

minors DNI

part1 part2 part3 part4 part5 part6 part7 part8 part9

You were hiding behind the curtains listening in on the conversation next door, how your father was signing your life away, gifting you to someone like you were a possession. Tears were running down your cheeks as you held your breath, waiting for your guests to make their decision, to accept you or to not. 

You were aware that any choice they made would be disastrous for you; if they said yes, you would be sent with them to some place you don't know, and if they said no, your father would make mockery of you and condemn your life because you were the last daughter and had no luck finding a suitor.

You were aware that you were not the most beautiful princess out there and that you were frequently overshadowed by your sisters and later by other princesses. For you, hiding was easy. Yes, you have had your fair share of crushes, but none of them actually lasted long enough to develop further, and most of them would be snatched away from you by others before they could blossom.

When your name was called as you were beginning to get lost in your own thoughts, you immediately wiped the tears from your cheeks, smiled a couple times, and walked in. You enter the room with manners and grace, keeping your head down and not glancing up at the guests as you stand in front of your father.

When he says, "This is her," you turn to your right and lift your head, and what you see is something from a dream. Shiny brown curls, forest green eyes that seem to encompass the entire wilderness, his bow shaped lips that were the most exquisite shade of pink you had ever seen, he was clad in black, his suit jacket that had a golden pattern, and he stood prim and proper as you were walking in. Taking in his features, you looked at his face as whole, he had an expression on his face, you couldn't name the emotion, but it definitely wasn't one of happiness.

He was not delighted to see you.

And that is what brought you back down to earth from your high.

A more senior man stood next to him; you could tell by the way he looked that they were father and son. This man had a gentler, more forgiving appearance, you bow before them both.

"It is a joy to meet you, darling." The older man said, you tried giving him a smile, but you did not give him a sincere one. It went unnoticed by everyone, except the man in black. He looked at you with a sharp gaze, and something seemed to change in the way he was looking at you. He looked amused now.

you wanted to scoff.

What a twat!

“Y/n, this King Styles of Holmes Chapel, and this is his son Prince Harry.” your father introduced them. This was Prince Harry, who was infamous among the princesses for being a flirt, the kind of man who would make you believe you have something just to spend the night because, from what you heard, he liked having that kind of power over people.

“Y/f/n, if you don't mind, we can send the kids to talk, so they can get to know each other.” said King Styles.

"Of course!  Y/n, show Prince Harry the gardens." There was nothing you could do but follow his instructions. Without saying a word, you signaled to the younger man to follow you and were relieved when he appeared to comprehend. During your entire stroll to the gardens, neither of you spoke a word, and you barely even exchanged glances besides when you needed to give directions.

You sat down on the bench in front of the large fountain in the gardens when you had finally arrived there, and he joined you. you Consider saying something because the stillness was becoming too loud. "Look, I understand that you do not want this, and quite frankly, neither do I." He interrupted your thoughts. You may not have wanted this, but you knew you needed it to get away from your father. He had to agree, and when he admitted he didn't, it clearly showed on your face that you weren't exactly happy. He immediately responded, "I have someone else that I..uh that i have my eyes on, and it's not like.. Look, I just-" "Prince Harry, you are one of the final proposals i will ever get, and i realize that i am not the most gorgeous princess out there, so you do not have to say yes to me, i know all about you, and what all you do,” He clenched his jaw at your oblique charge, “but i really need to get married.” He laughs this off, "Bloody Hell, you are so desperate! For what purpose? Huh? getting dick? That is it?” You were furious at him for using such outrageous language as you gasped at it. "I will have you know, Prince Harry, that I do not intend to do that. I simply desire such a thing because I need to leave this place. I have been forced into courtships for as long as I can remember. You have no idea what it is like for a princess to always be rejected!” “And whose fault is that, then?” He mumbles, you gaze at him in shock, and as his words sink in, your eyes begin to tear up. You turn away from him so he will not see you crying. Harry did not appear to care if he heard you struggle to control the sob that was escaping from your throat despite your best efforts to remain composed.

Until a servant arrived and informed you that your presence was wanted by your father, the quiet between you felt as though it had lasted for eons. Without waiting for Harry, you get up and leave. You could hear his footsteps following you, but you remained reluctant to turn around and look. As you got closer to the door, you slowed down and cleaned your face before waiting for Harry to stand next to you outside. 

He keeps his hands behind his back as you lift your hand to knock on the door, but you can sense his anxiety. What does he have to be worried about? you wanted to yell at him. He is the one who was outrageous and cruel, and he is the one who will return to whatever princess he was pursuing regardless, while you will have to endure yet another encounter with yet another prince.

When you hear your father granting you permission to enter, you attempt to unlock the door once more, but this time he stops you and does it himself; what a prince! He caught you looking at him and noticed the sarcasm seeping from your face, but like everything else, he decided to ignore this as well, moving aside to let you in. Your hand was touching his front, which was too close for you. You looked at him as if to urge him to get away, but he gave you a contemptuous response. When your gazing contest was over, you looked ahead and saw something you had thought you would never see.

@remuslupinwifee @strwbrrydaydreams

[seeingivy]

soulmates 

levi ackerman x f!reader 

a game of taboo makes you wonder if levi is your soulmate

content: post war levi, domestic fluff, mentions of nightmares, falco + gabi, kinda manga spoilers?, blood

- 

Every weekend, you and Levi open up the likes of your tea shop and your home to your two favorite kids - Falco and Gabi. Not that Levi would ever tell them that. It was a tradition the four of you adopted after Reiner went out of town on a trip that you continued after he returned. The four of you enjoy each others company more than most. 

Falco and Gabi always help you and Levi with the shop on Friday, granted creating more of a mess than actually helping. While you and Levi had adopted a pace to making drinks at the shop, like a well oiled machine, Falco and Gabi were anything but. 

Gabi was all about speed. She wanted to make all the orders as fast as she could, not caring who or what, she had to trample over to get there. You swear the girl has nearly knocked you off your feet a few times, which earns her a scolding from Levi. 

Falco was all about precision. He wanted to make all the orders as perfect as possible, not caring how long it could take. You swore he could spend an entire day steeping if he could. You’re sure the habit is no thanks to Levi, who always sends the poor kid back whenever he asks him to make his tea. 

After finishing up at the shop, you and Levi close up, letting Falco and Gabi play the board games or read the books you have set out in your apartment for them. Games, from you. Books, from Levi. It goes to say that the spines of the book are in perfect state from never being opened. 

On this lovely Friday, Gabi and Falco had picked out Taboo for the four of you to play. You and Falco chose to team up like you did every week, the two of you a dream team of sorts. Meanwhile, Levi and Gabi begrudgingly worked together, butting heads every time the game started. They were both used to taking charge and making the plays, which led to arguments on how they should strategize and win. Meanwhile, you and Falco worked out a system - taking turns calling the shots which fared very well for the two of you.

The game is chaotic, with Levi and Gabi aggressively trying to guess the words at the top of the card. You and Falco can’t help but laugh at their turns, the two of them arguing about the semantics of the words and scolding each other for losing out the points each time. Meanwhile, you and Falco have a civilized conversation, high fiving every time you could figure out the word together. 

On your turn, you lift the card to your forehead, Falco smiling in excitement. 

“This one’s easy. You and Levi.” 

“Me and Levi? Is it business owners?” 

“No. Think about what you guys are.” 

“Adults? A couple? Short?”

Levi grabs the back of your head, turning your face towards his. 

“I’ll pretend like I didn’t hear that last one, brat.” 

You see Gabi and Falco laughing from your peripheral and you roll your eyes at him in response. 

“Military? Leaders?” 

The buzzer rings and you remove the card from your forehead to check the word. You hear Gabi and Levi taunting you in the background, but you’re too busy staring down at the card. Gabi leans over, flipping the card from your fingers to read the word. 

“The word is soulmates, Mr. Levi.” 

“Soulmates?” 

You turn your head at Levi saying the word. 

“Soulmates, Mr. Levi, are people who are made for each other. The person who balances you out, the one you’re destined to be with. You can swear you’ve met them before, your souls together in the previous life and the next too. Like you and Miss Y/N. ” 

Levi turns to Falco, his gray eyes glaring at him. He turns to  you, his gaze noticeably softening. You’re sure your cheeks are beet red by now and you try to divert the subject. 

“I’m going to start dinner. Whose turn is it to help me?” 

“Mine.” 

Your eyes widen as you turn to Levi, cursing yourself for asking in the first place. 

“You guys only played a few rounds. Stay here, I can handle it this week, Lee’.” 

You stand up before he can respond, basically running to the kitchen. 

“But Mr. Levi, wasn’t it my turn?” asks Falco, turning his head to the side to look at Levi. 

“Yes. Shut up and play the game brat.”

- 

After dinner, you and Levi pull out the air mattress the four of you sleep on. While you used to set up the guest rooms - you and Gabi in one and Falco and Levi in your bedroom - the four of you had been sleeping together in the living room as of late. 

It all started a few weeks ago, on a particularly bad night for you. Falco and Gabi ran into your room to find you screaming in your sleep, Levi hunched over you trying to pull you awake. When you came to, you held onto Levi, the tears streaming from your eyes. 

“Miss Y/N. What happened?” 

You turn to your side to find Falco and Gabi crying at your side, their faces pink. You motioned for the two of them to join you and Levi on the bed, the four of you sitting criss cross to face one another. 

“Nightmares, Falco. I’m okay.” you whisper. 

“I get those too. Bad ones.” 

The three of you look over, Gabi’s head in her hands. You move her hands, guiding her face to meet your gaze. 

“Mine are always about Hange. I see them in the air, skin on fire. I try to stop them in the dream, but they’re gone by the time I get to them. They never get up, no matter how hard I try, how fast I move.….they still die in my arms every time I close my eyes.”

You feel Levi shift behind you, his hand making its way into your hair. He brushes through the tangles, attempting to fix your bedhead. You warm at the thought, Levi’s touch comforting you all together. 

“I’m killing Sasha, watching her blood spill onto the floor. Or watching Eren become the Attack Titan, his skeleton spinning into the air while the walls come down.” 

She pauses, the words dying in her throat.

“Falco turns into a titan, his warm eyes replaced with that lifeless, horrifying look in his eyes. He’s gone. And it’s all my fault.” 

Falco reaches for her hand, the three of you squeezing your hands together. 

“You didn’t tell me, Gabi.” whispers Falco, turning to face her. 

“It’s embarrassing. That stuff is over but I can’t stop thinking about it.” 

“It’s not over, not for us anyway. Sometimes I swear I can still see that girl, Ymir’s memories. I wake up in a cold sweat, dreaming of being her as she’s crushed in Galliard’s teeth. Or I see Colt. Him embracing me while I kill him.” 

You hold your arms open, the two of them moving into your arms. You feel the two of them crying onto your shirt, as you press a kiss to the top of their heads. You turn to face Levi, his expression steely. You knew the look all too well, after being at Levi’s side for years. He felt guilty. You’re not sure what for.

“I have them too.” 

Gabi and Falco turn to face Levi, shocked at his words. While you opened up to the two of them often, Gabi and Falco rarely had heart to hearts with Levi. They never hated him for it, understanding that he had every reason to be guarded, more than most. The only person he really talked to was you. 

He reaches over, his hands brushing across the scars on your forehead and then your neck. You’re taken back to the moment, being nearly crushed in Zeke’s grasp as you guys stood on the Attack Titan. Levi had gotten to you in time, severing you out of Zeke’s hold, but he wasn’t fast enough to catch you before you fell down. 

“My nightmare is that I killed you. Every time I close my eyes, all I see is you falling, after I cut you down. I reach you and you’re dead. No sparkling eyes looking at me, no stupid remarks when I talk to you. You’re still. Quiet. Lifeless. And it’s all my fault. I wake up every night, pressing my fingers against your neck just to make sure you’re still here.” 

You reach forward, pulling him into your embrace. You place your hand on the side of his hair, the other arm still slung around Gabi and Falco. The four of you sit like that for a while, no one reaching to breaking the silence. 

“Mr. Levi. Can we sleep here?” he whispers, looking up at Levi. 

You and Levi move, opening up the covers for the two of them to climb in between you. Within a few minutes, the two of them are fast asleep, the tear stains now dry against their cheeks. You and Levi face each other, interlocking fingers over the two of them. 

“Whatcha thinking about, Miss Y/N?” 

You turn to find Falco, pulling out his pajamas near the mattress. You shake your head, throwing away the memory all together as you finish putting the bed together. 

“Nothing, Falco. Levi’s in the bathroom. Go brush your teeth.” 

He jumps off, retreating to your bathroom. You move towards the guest bathroom, finding Gabi brushing her teeth by the sink. You join her, the two of you making faces at each other as you finish up. 

“Braids, Gabs?” 

She nods, sitting up on the counter as you start brushing your fingers through her hair. You section off parts of her hair, getting to work on braiding her brown hair. 

“Do you not think Levi is your soulmate?” 

“What?” 

“It’s just that earlier, the card. You seemed uncomfortable when Falco said you guys were.” 

You sigh, twisting her hair in your fingers. 

“It’s not that, Gabi. Don’t soulmates have to be reciprocal?” 

“You don’t think you’re his soulmate?” 

“I don’t know. He’s lost so many people but I’m unsure of how he felt about them and how he feels about me. Sometimes I wonder if they were still here, I wouldn’t be the one next to him. Maybe he would want it to be one of them instead.” 

“I don’t think so, Miss Y/N. He loves you. The thing he’s most scared to lose is you.” 

“That’s because I’m the only thing left, Gabi.” 

Levi and Falco burst in, Falco nearly falling face first into the floor. You and Gabi turn to your side, glaring at the two of them for interrupting your conversation. You see Falco’s eyes shine at the sight of you braiding Gabi’s hair. 

“Gabi! You look so pretty.” 

You watch Gabi flush at his words, running out of the room to avoid making eye contact with him. He follows, screaming an apology at her. 

“Brats. They’re hopeless.” 

“She’s hopeless. I bet she does this everyday, because there’s no way Falco walks around without saying something like that to her.”  

He nods in agreement as you clear the sink from the brushes and elastics you were using in her hair. You look into the mirror to find Levi staring at you. 

“What? Do I have something on my face?” 

“No.” 

“Then why are you staring?”  

He reaches forward, crushing you in his arms. You feel his heart pounding in his chest as he holds you even harder in his arms. He lets go, running his eyes over you. 

“You okay, Levi?” you whisper, staring into his gray eyes. 

“Yeah, it’s just-” 

He’s cut off by Falco and Gabi, who barge into the room again. 

“Oh, sorry. We were just going to ask when you wanted to sleep.” 

Levi turns to you, giving you a smile before turning to glare at the two of them. He pushes Gabi out of the room and you sling your arm around Falco as you follow them. 

“Did no one teach you brats how to knock?” 

“No. My parents died in the rumbling before they could teach me that.” 

“Your parents dropped you off here. You’re real funny brat.” 

 - 

You wake up, a cold sweat running down the side of your back. Sasha in a pool of her own blood. You look over, Gabi and Falco are still fast asleep under the blanket. Levi is absent from the mattress and you peer around for any signs of where he went. 

You spot his black hair through the window of the balcony, him sitting on the floor out there. You pull your jacket (it’s Levi’s but who’s paying attention?) and join him out there, moving to sit next to him. He tenses at the contact, before opening up his arm for you to rest against him. You lean your back against his chest, his chin resting on top of your head. 

The two of you sit in silence, staring out at the neighborhood over you. You lean into his embrace, thanking whatever gods there were for letting you be the one next to Levi in this moment.

“It was always going to be you.” 

“Hm?”

“The person next to me. It was always going to be you.” 

You sit up, turning your back to face him. You’re unsure what he’s talking about, confused by his admittance all together. 

“I heard you talking to Gabi earlier. If they were still here, you would still be the one I want by my side.” 

You feel your cheeks burning, embarrassed Levi had heard you confessing your insecurities to a twelve year old girl. 

“I’m sorry, Levi. I didn’t mean it like that. I know how you feel about me.” 

Hie expression pinches and you can feel him tense behind your back. You curse yourself for placing doubt in his mind after everything he did for you. 

“I…loved them. They were both special to me, my best friends.” 

You nod, cradling the side of his face in your hand. 

“I know, Levi. You don’t need to explain.” you whisper. 

“But they’re not special the way you are. It sounds bad but I don’t love them like I love you. I’d be done for if you were the one gone instead of them.” 

You smile, glowing at his words. You knew Levi loved you, but he was hardly one to ever say it. Make no mistake, he showed it to you everyday - leaving tea out for you, making the dinner you like, buying flowers that remind him of you. But he was never the best at saying it, which did leave you to wonder at times. 

“Me too, Levi. As weird as it is to say, sometimes I feel lucky that you and I get to do this. Run a tea shop. Have the kids come around. Walk in the markets. I mean this time last year we were cradling each other's nearly dead bodies.” 

He pauses, swallowing hard before answering. 

“The next life will be nicer to us. I mean the odds are fucking impossible - anything is better than this.” 

“The next life?” 

“Soulmates. Your souls are together in the previous life and the next.” 

You feel your chest warm at his words, at him calling you his soulmate. You lean forward, pressing a kiss to his soft lips. 

-  

Levi walks Gabi and Falco home the next morning, leaving you snoring in the mattress behind. Gabi and Falco press kisses to your head, telling Levi they’ll bring dessert when they come next week. 

Levi returns, groceries in hand. He makes breakfast, starting a cup of tea as you pad into the kitchen. Still half asleep, you swing your arms against his torso, leaning your face against his back. 

“Kids gone?” 

“Mhm. Dropped them off earlier. I got the apples you wanted yesterday while I was out.” 

You turn to the counter, rummaging through the bag Levi brought. You take out the flowers he brought from the market - a bouquet of red tulips. You smile, setting them aside to put in a vase later. 

As you look for the apples, you find a small green box. You take it out and click it open, a simple silver band in the box. 

“Levi.” 

“Hm?” 

“Did you buy me a ring?” 

You see his expression pale, as he reaches over trying to take the box from you. You’re able to avoid his grasp for a few seconds, but he gets it back in the end. 

“You’re so damn nosy, brat.” 

“Why are you trying to hide it? Buy it for your secret girlfriend instead of me?” you tease. 

“You get stupider as time goes on. It’s obviously yours. I was waiting to give it to you.” 

You smile, holding your hands out so he can give you the box back. As he reaches out to place the box in your hands, you pause spotting an identical silver band on his ring finger. 

“You have the same one!” 

“Yes. That’s the point, idiot.” 

You look up at him, staring into his eyes. You suddenly feel nervous. Last night, Levi called you his soulmate. And today he bought you rings. Matching ones. 

“What does it mean? I mean, am I really all that?” you whisper. 

“It doesn’t mean anything.” 

You deflate, dejected by his words. While the implication of matching rings made you nervous, nauseous even, his fast rejection made you feel even worse. 

“Oh. Okay, yeah.” 

“I didn’t-” 

You can see the frustration rising to his face, his eyes squinting at you. 

“I didn’t mean it like that. You mean everything. I just mean we don’t have to do anything. If you don’t want to. They’re just rings. We can do all that whenever we want to.” 

You look up at him, smiling at his nervous expression.

“I mean everything?” you ask, smirking at him. 

He prods his fingers into your forehead, pushing you back into the chair. He places the breakfast he just made in front of you along with a cup of green tea. 

“You’re hopeless, brat.” 

-  

Falco and Gabi return the next week, accompanied with a box of mochi Reiner had bought for the two of you. As you and Levi take to make dinner, Falco and Gabi lean over the counter, whispering at the sight of you. 

“They’re wearing matching rings.” 

“What? Where, Falco?” 

“On their ring fingers. Look.” 

“They’re getting married, Falco! Does this mean I get to be a flower girl?” 

You and Levi smile at each other, trying your best not to laugh at the two of them whispering (yelling) over the counter. Levi turns towards them, placing their food in front of them. 

“We’re not getting married, brat. Not yet, anyways.” 

“YOU COULD HEAR THAT?” 

You turn to join the three of them, balancing your plate and Levi’s in your hand. 

“You’re not the best whisperer, Gabs. Sorry.” 

“Who bought them, Miss Y/N?” 

“Levi did, Falco. Last week after he dropped you off.” 

“Told you he was whipped for you. He looks like a kicked dog every time you walk away from him.” 

“Keep talking, brat. I can easily convince her to pick another flower girl.” 

You and Levi turn to Gabi, a wide smile spreading across her face. 

“Wait, so you’d actually consider me?” 

“Well yeah. Who else would do it?” 

She runs across the table, pulling the both of you together in a hug. Falco jumps up as well, running to join the three of you. The two of them shout in their excitement, shaking the two of you in their hold. Gabi grabs Falco’s hand, dragging him onto the balcony to look at which flowers would be best for the ceremony. 

“Since when does that murderous brat like flowers? It’s sickening.” 

“She’s just excited, Levi. Getting to be a part of it all and everything.” 

“We aren’t even getting married yet.” he deadpans. 

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” 

You turn to him, interlocking your fingers with his as the two of you eat your food. You hear the two of them chattering outside and thank the gods, for keeping the other half of your soul next to you. 

[apolloscastellan]

Our field of dreams, engulfed in fire | loss of my life chapter three

Pairing: Art Donaldson x Tashi Duncan x Patrick Zweig x FemaleTennisPlayer!reader

Summary: Your life had always been divided in two: before you met Tashi and after you met Tashi. The second you had laid eyes on her for the first time you knew you had been changed. You were soulmates, meant for each other Nothing could ever tear you two apart, or so you had thought. You could've pinpointed the junior U.S. Open as the night that changed everything. Now you have to juggle your hate-love relationship with tennis with your love-love relationship with Tashi and the two guys who you can't seem to stay away from. Tennis, after all, was only one of the most fucked up relationships of your life.

Warnings: challengers spoiler, challengers content warnings, super minor character death, terrible mother figure, use of y/n, polyamory.

Word count: 7.9K

A/N: sorry this took a little longer than usual, I was at the beach. This chapter is a little longer so! Let me know your thoughts! <3

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University of California, Berkeley. September 9, 2006:

“What are you doing next weekend?” Art’s voice comes through your phone, propped up on your table as you get ready to go out.

“I don’t know, we still have weekends free, at least until December, but I’ll probably go hit with some of the girls, catch up on homework, you know, the usual.”

“What if I drove up on Friday and took you out? Maybe spend a couple days with you?” He tries his best to not let his voice tremble. 

He shouldn’t be this nervous, you’ve been his girlfriend for almost two months now, he has nothing to worry about. He had asked you to be his girlfriend one of the many late nights you had spent on the phone with each other, talking about nothing for hours just to keep hearing the other’s voice. It had been sweet, his voice almost giving up from nerves when he asked you if you would, maybe, like to be his girlfriend. His heart stopping for a second when you answered that you had been waiting for him to ask. Still, he can’t help but feel on edge as he poses the question. You haven’t seen each other much since the junior open, which means that you haven’t seen each other at all, not for lack of trying. It’s not that the phone calls are not good enough, they had been perfect to make him fall for you. But he misses you, and he wants to see you. He just hopes you want to see him just as badly.

“Oh my God, are you kidding?” It is almost too good to be true. “Don’t you have practice?”

“Well our coach is giving us Friday free because he is going to his daughter’s dance recital. And I have been doing well with school, which means that I can probably work ahead and have nothing for the weekend. I thought you might want to see me.”

“Are you kidding? Of course I’d love to see you. You can stay with me too, because my roommate will be out of town. Oh my God, this is perfect!” you can’t contain your excitement.

“Ok, it’s settled then.”

––––––––––––––––

You are still in practice when Art pulls into campus. You always stay over with one or two of your teammates, getting some extra reps in. He walks over to the tennis courts, too excited to be apprehensive. He leans on the side of the bleachers, not wanting to distract you. You are in your practice uniform, covered in blue from head to toe, california gold in your shoelaces and the logo on your chest. You look adorable, if Art says so himself. One of the other girls spots him first, pointing to him. You turn around immediately, Art cannot be worried about you giving yourself whiplash because before he can process what’s happening you’re jumping on him, hugging him with your entire body.

“You’re here” you say, out of breath.

“I missed you so much. You’ve tanned!” he says, pulling back to look into your eyes.

“That’s what the California sun will do to you,- sir. Well, not you, clearly” you tease him, giving him a once over.

You pull him by his t-shirt, without hesitation, unable to wait a second longer to kiss him. He reacts quickly, cradling your face with his hands and returning the kiss.

“I’ll go grab my bag and we can go. I need to grab a shower before we go to dinner” he nods, too out of breath from the kiss to think of a reasonable reply.

He watches you run over to your bag and pick it up, while your teammates laugh and whistle at you, giving you shit for the very public display of affection. You bat them off, waving goodbye at them as you make your way over back to Art. He takes your bag from you as soon as you are close enough to do so. You try to protest but there’s no use. He wraps his other arm around your shoulders and lets you lead him to your dorm room. He thinks there’s no way he could ever be happier than he is right now.

––––––––––––––––

Art lays on your bed while you shower. He calls Patrick to get himself entertained, not willing to think too much about how you are barely a wall away, showering. He has made reservations, he doesn’t want to miss them.

“Yeah we have our first preseason matches in…”

He cuts himself off as he sees you walking out the bathroom. Your hair is still wet, falling on your shoulders in soft waves and you are wearing a dress you should have never been allowed to wear, for his own sanity. Patrick yells in his ear, asking him if he’s ok, but he is too busy getting lost in you to notice.

“Who are you talking to?” You wonder, your voice finally snapping him off his trance.

“Oh, It’s Patrick.”

“Hey Patrick!” you yell, as you put on your heels.

“Tell her hello and that I miss her” Patrick calls, from the other side of the line.

“Patrick says hi” he says, instead.

“Can you put it on speaker?” he does as you say, intrigued as to what you have to say to his best friend. “Pat you need to text me back, I have to talk to you.”

“Sorry doll, I haven’t been on my phone much, I’ll check as soon as I hang up.” 

You nod, satisfied with his answer. You turn around to grab one of the purses in your closet.

“What do you need to talk to him for?” Art asks, Patrick still on the phone.

“Oh, just Tashi stuff, you know. It’s really not that important, don’t worry about it. Now, say goodnight to your boyfriend, we’re going to be late.”

––––––––––––––––

The restaurant that Art picks for your dinner is on the fancier side. It’s technically your first date, your second, if you count that night at the hotel, but there were too many people for him to count it. So it’s your first official date, and he wants to impress you. It’s a little crazy, how much you both know about each other without having really gone out together once. You don’t look even slightly out of place as you follow the waiter to your table and ask for what you want. He knows you have grown up very wealthy, probably as wealthy as Patrick, if not more. It only makes him want to work harder, to be better. He tells himself he is going to be great, to give you the life you deserve.

“I can’t believe you know how I sound when I’m about to fall asleep but you’ve never taken me out. I have to step up my game before you think I’m easy” you say, mirroring exactly what he was thinking.

“Well, seeing as you made out with me and my best friend the first night you met us, I think we’re a little bit past me thinking you’re easy” the laughter bubbles out of you unexpectedly, slightly too loud for the place you are in.

“You’re a dick, you know that?” but you don’t mean it.

You didn’t expect him to bring it up at all. You expected him to act as if it had never happened, like you had done every single time you spoke on the phone. You don’t mind it, you realize. You are still smiling when they bring out your food. You thank the waiter and wait politely until he leaves before diving into your plate.

“Don’t get me wrong, I am mostly excited that you are here and I would be satisfied with  rotting in bed with you all weekend, but this is such a wonderful break from dining hall meals.”

“Don’t you ever order in? Or go out?”

“I mean, sometimes my teammates will invite me, but no, not really.”

“Why?”

“Well my scholarship gives me 200 dollars a month for miscellaneous expenses, but I’m trying to save for when I either graduate or drop out to go pro. I’ll have to pay for coaches and other stuff so I want to be ready.”

“I thought your mum was really into you playing tennis, why is she not helping?” the smile drops off your face as soon as those words leave his mouth, he regrets it immediately, wants to take it back, but it’s too late.

“My mum and I, we.. We’re not on speaking terms right now” you realize how vague that is and sigh, encouraging yourself to just tell him, he is your boyfriend, he deserves to know. “By that I mean that I cut contact with her. I haven’t spoken to her since the summer.”

“That’s why you said yes to Berkeley” everything made sense in his head now. He put his hand on the table, palm facing upwards, there if you wanted to take it, which you did immediately. Then, with the softest voice he could muster he asked, “Can I ask why? You don’t have to tell me, but I would love to know.”

You bring your hands together, as your right hand starts to play with the ring on your left, rolling it around your finger. You know you need to tell him. You want to tell him, you want to share this part of you and your life with your boyfriend. You want to show him that you trust him

“My mum used to be a tennis player, when she was younger. She was great. She was this amazing up and comer, beat some of the biggest names really early in her career. She was supposed to be the greatest player in history, but then… She met my dad, and she got pregnant with me. It was a complicated pregnancy and she could never play again, not like she used to. So she resented me and my dad. The only reason she stayed with him was because he was very wealthy, and she had nothing for herself except her failed tennis career. And then she realized I could fulfill that failed career, so I became her project. I had half her genetics, so it was a given to her that I’d be good. I stopped being her daughter, I was just her little tennis star. That was all our relationship was about, tennis.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry baby” he squeezes your hand, then asks gently,  “What about your dad?”

“He was great, he… He died. I was eight. He gave me this ring” you say, showing him the ring you had been playing with all night. “It's my most prized possession.”

When you look back at Art he looks so sad you want to take it all back, say that you were joking, that you love your parents and everything is ok. You hate being this vulnerable, hate people feeling sorry for you. You hate feeling like a burden. You hate making a big deal of things that you’ve accepted, that you’ve already grieved. Somehow, Art has the perfect thing to say.

“It is a gorgeous ring” he whispers as he examines it under the restaurant’s lights trying very hard not to think about giving you a ring in a much different context, now is not the time.

“Yeah…” you hesitate for a second, debating whether or not you should say what you are thinking, but the boy in front of you looks into your eyes in a way that makes you believe you could do anything, so you continue, “I don’t want you to pretend I never told you any of this. There’s a reason why I told you, I wanted you to know, but can we move on and have fun? I don’t wanna spend the three days you’re here talking through my trauma.”

Art smiles, and you know everything is going to be ok. You feel a weight lift off your chest

as he launches off into a story about one of his new teammates falling down the stairs. You laugh, the guy is fine. It feels good to be honest. it’s not like you had been purposefully trying to keep secrets, but having things out in the open and knowing that Art doesn’t think any differently of you makes you feel much lighter.

––––––––––––––––

You stumble into your dorm room slightly tipsy, hands in Art’s hair. You fall backwards on your bed, giggling, Art following right after, settling on top of you. You stop him with a hand on his chest when he sneaks his hands under your dress, brushing dangerously close to your panties.

“I’ve never… I’m not… I’m a virgin.”

Your words seem to sober him up immediately. He backs up, sitting at the end of your bed. His eyes are wide open, his pupils blown. You follow him, sitting right in front of him.

“We don’t have to… If you’re not ready, I mean, I don’t want you to think this is the only reason why I came because it’s not true and…” you interrupt him by crushing your lips against his again.

“I want to, I really do. I want it to be you, I just thought you should know.”

“Okay” he says, out of breath, then lets you kiss him again.

You get rid of each other’s clothes slowly. He starts with your dress, gasping as it lowers to reveal a matching set of lingerie you had bought for the night. You take off his polo and he eagerly helps you take off his pants. It’s frantic but tender. He kisses you in every spot he can reach, holds your hand as he pushes in for the first time. He whispers sweet praises in your ear, and you tell him how good it feels. You warn him when you’re about to come, he smiles, burying himself on your neck and sucking a mark low enough for it to be covered by a shirt. He follows right after you, coming with moans of your name in his lips. You lay next to each other, tangled in the bedsheets and a feeling neither of you is brave enough to name. He cuddles up to you, hands in your body, legs intertwined.

“That was… Wow” you whisper.

“I know,” he says right back.

“I’m glad it was you” like it’s a secret.

“Me too” he’s never meant anything more, that’s it until the next words fall off his lips. “I love you.”

But you are already asleep, too tired by the day to keep your eyes open for another second. It’s ok, he can say it again in the morning, and repeat it over and over again, for the rest of his life. He falls asleep shortly after, dreaming of the rest of his life, you by his side.

New Rochelle, New York. August 24, 2019:

Art Donaldson: 2-0-0

Patrick Zweig: 6-0-0

Both Patrick and Art are shirtless by the time Tashi comes back. As soon as she has sat down two young girls come up to her. She is kind, taking pictures with them and making conversation. You can’t help but feel sad to see people congratulating her on her job with Art. They should be impressed by her own game, the way she moves on the court, not the one she was able to force onto her husband. The all too familiar pang of guilt settles on your chest. When they turn to look at you, they are almost shaking. You will never stop being surprised that people recognize and admire you. 

“Hi Ms. Y/l/n, could we get a picture with you? We are really big fans.”

“Of course, but please call me Y/n” you say, as you flash the camera your brightest smile. “Plus, I should tell you, it's Zweig now.”

“No way!” they both screech, excited. 

You and Patrick had gotten married earlier that year. it had been a small, incredibly intimate wedding, just you, the officiant and a couple of friends to act as witnesses. You had planned to announce it in Roland Garros, having them announce you both as Zweig. However, Patrick’s injury had kind of put a damper on that, so not many people knew about it. You hadn’t even announced your engagement, the few interested people had figured it out when he started wearing your ring in his finger and you started wearing a different one. Although you are still going to be announced as the Zweigs in the U.S Open you figure there’s no harm in people knowing beforehand. Although he had a flare for the dramatics, neither of you cared much about making a spectacle of your private lives. Which is the sole reason why you aren’t millionaires yet.

“Can I ask you a question?” the younger-looking girl asks, almost shy.

You nod inmediately, flashing her a comforting smile

“Why do you only play doubles? You are so good!”

“Well I enjoy playing doubles a lot more, the singles life wasn’t really for me. Plus, I think I’ve always played my best tennis with a partner.”

Tashi scoffs next to you, playing it off by looking down at her phone. There’s no way you actually believe that, that you are better playing with Patrick Fucking Zweig than on your own. By yourself, with a good coach, you could have been the best tennis player in history, breaking every single record in the book. Hell, your first three years competing you had won a career Grand Slam. Until you had rekindled your flame with Patrick and given up on everything you had ever dreamed of.

You ignore her, continuing to chat with the two girls until the umpire calls for the second set to start. You look at Patrick and smile at him. He grins right back before standing up and taking his position on the court.

Stanford University, California. February 23, 2007:

You can’t contain your excitement as the bus pulls into Stanford. As always, you get there in the morning, with time to spare so all of you can do your own thing and not have cramped up legs from the bus. Usually, you and a couple other teammates explore whatever college you are playing. However, you’ve made it clear to everyone that you would be unavailable, too busy catching up with your best friend and your boyfriend to bother exploring. Plus, it’s not like it was your first time in Stanford. You spot Tashi as you walk down the steps of the bus. Immediately, you drop all your bags, making a beeline to hug her. She runs towards you too, meeting you in the middle. You sway back and forth, too happy to say anything. Then, you pull away. You’re both smiling, but her smile doesn’t really reach her eyes.

“Do you think Patrick is in love with me?” is the first thing out of her mouth.

“What?”

“Do you think Patrick is in love with me? I know you talk to him, I'm not an idiot. Has he said anything about it?”

“Ok, so no ‘hello’? No ‘I missed you’?” that seems to snap her off, she closes her eyes, rubbing her face with her hands.

“I’m sorry, you're right” she says, hugging you again. “I missed you, how was the trip?”

“Not horrible, I slept the entire way through so…” you can tell she is not fully into the conversation, so you pick up your bags and interlace one of your arms around one of hers. “Ok, take me to your dorm. We can talk then.”

Catching up and silly banter can wait. If Tashi needs you, then you’re going to be there for her.

––––––––––––––––

It’s not the first time you’ve been to Tashi’s dorm, but it feels different. You don’t take in the books, or the pictures of the two of you on the wall, you just look at her.

“Ok, so what’s this thing you were telling me, about Patrick being in love with you? Why are you asking me?”

“I had lunch with Art the other day. He had extra lunch credits or something like that. He was being a little bitch. He said he was shocked we were still together?”

“He said that?” Tashi nods.

“Yeah so i kept pressing because the was being all coy and mysterious after saying that, like, what the hell? And then he just said that Patrick is not in love with me.” She looks back at you, clearly fuming. “So, what do you think?”

“Well I… I don’t know Patrick as well as Art, but he always seems to care a lot about you whenever I talk to him. You are literally 80% of what our conversations are about.”

“Do you think he’s seeing other girls on tour?”

“No” you say immediately, completely sure of your answer. “Poor guy’s actually losing for the first time in his life, he's traveling on his own and he is trying to juggle a long distance relationship and two long distance friendships. I promise you he has no time to fuck other girls.”

“He never talks about his feelings…” she groans, you can’t help but laugh.

“Pot, meet kettle” she looks back at you, unimpressed. “Look, he is getting here in what, an hour? Less? Just talk to him. I know it’s hard but it’s the only way to know what he’s thinking. Be honest with each other!”

She launches herself into you, making you fall backwards onto her bed.

“I hate when you’re right.”

“I know you do. Now, sleep, you need to be well rested so I can beat your ass later.” 

That finally pulls a smile from Tashi’s face. You close your eyes and smile, satisfied that you were able to make her feel better. You can only hope she follows your advice.

––––––––––––––––

You get woken up by incessant knocking on the door. You and Tashi are still tangled on the bed, your head now laying on her chest.

“Tashi!” you hear Art’s voice through the door. “I have something for you in exchange for my girlfriend!”

You go to stand up, but Tashi pulls you back against her, shushing you when you make a startled noise.

“If we don’t make any noise, they’ll think we’re not here and leave.”

However, the knocking on the door doesn’t stop.

“Y/n told me when you guys were, I’m not leaving without her. Open the door.”

“Sorry” you wince, standing up.

You don’t bother making yourself look presentable, yanking the door open as soon as you are close enough. The sight of the two boys standing there knocks the breath out of you. You don’t have time to process it because as soon as he sees you, Art is enveloping you with his arms, lifting you from the ground and kissing you.

“Ok, let her go now, man, you’re going to squeeze her to death” Patrick interrupts, pulling Art back from you and taking a step forward to hug you. “How are you doing doll? I missed you.”

“Look at you” you smile at him. “You’re getting buffed.”

The both of you laugh. When you look back at Art he has an unreadable expression in his face, lips pressed against each other, eyes fixed on you.

“Well, your girl is inside, probably back asleep, so me and Art are going to take our leave” you say, pulling his arm so he’s walking with you.

It’s only when you’ve made it back to his room and you’re sitting on his lap, facing him, that you dare bring Tashi up. You take your own advice, communication is the only way to go about things.

“Why did you tell Tashi that Patrick wasn’t in love with her?” you ask.

He looks a little confused at first. Then, realization dawns upon him.

“I don’t know, I thought she deserved to know?”

“Is it true then? Does he feel anything for her?”

“I don’t know. We’re boys, we don’t really talk about this stuff, you know us.”

“Why would you tell her, then? Why would you say something to her you don’t even know if it’s true? What were you hoping to accomplish?” you try not to raise your voice but it’s getting progressively harder.

“Why are we fighting about their relationship right now? Why do we care?”

“That’s a good question, Art, why do you care?” you say, standing up from where you were perched on his lap and sitting on his desk chair. “Why did you get involved?”

“You’re one to talk! You’re constantly talking to Patrick about it!”

“That’s different, I’m not trying to get into his head. I just ask because I care. Plus, Patrick is my friend, we don’t only talk about Tashi.”

“Well, maybe Tashi is my friend! Maybe I was asking because I care.”

“What about Patrick? Do you care about Patrick?”

“Patrick is my best friend, of course I care about him!”

“Well you’re not acting like it!” you yell.

“If you care so much about Patrick maybe you should be his girlfriend, then!” he shouts back.

You stop, he does too. He stands up, takes a step towards you. You stand up too, but you take a step back.

“Y/n… I didn’t…”

“I don’t have time to do this right now. I have a game in an hour, I need to go get ready” you say, walking towards the door, you turn around to look at him before you leave. “We’ll talk about this later. See you at the game?”

He nods, of course he is still going to your game. Then, afterwards, he is going to apologize, and all four of you will go to dinner. And everything will be ok.

––––––––––––––––

You think it’s strange, how Tashi doesn’t even look at you when you two step into the court, facing one another. Something is wrong. As the two number ones on your team you were going against one another first. You had won your first match, a doubles one. Tashi doesn’t play doubles, so this is the first time she is stepping onto the court. You look to the bleachers and spot Art immediately, sitting alone. Patrick is nowhere to be seen. You look back at your best friend, who is still frowning and refusing to meet your eye. You think she might just be in the zone, that she has developed a new game face in college. It’s still unsettling when she doesn’t smile at you before she gets ready to serve.

It is clear that she is angry the second she hits the ball. She is too good to have no precision, but it’s obvious that her focus is on the strength of the hit, rather than where she is trying to send it. It’s obvious to you thar she is not in the right mindset. She should be wiping the floor with you, because you have already played a set when she just stepped out of the locker rooms, but, somehow, you’re winning. It’s throwing you off. You’ve played with and against Tashi a million times, enough to know her game like the back of your hand and this, it’s not it. She’s playing well, but it’s not her.

That’s when it happens, you backhand the ball onto the opposite side of the court she is standing on. She is not prepared to hit it there, but she runs towards the ball anyways. She’s about to hit her when she collapses on the ground. She falls like a piece of paper blown by the wind. In a second, she is on her back, screaming for her life.

You jump over the net immediately, not caring about conduct, or rules or anything that’s not getting to Tashi as soon as possible. You couch down next to her, reaching your hand to try and rub her arm, trying to comfort her. She is screaming at you as soon as she identifies that it’s you touching her.

“Get the fuck away from me! This is all your fault!”

You don’t know what to do. You pull back, your breath catching. Art is on your side in a second. He pats your back, telling you he will go with Tashi to the hospital so she won’t be alone, that he’ll keep you updated. He probably says something else, tries to reassure you. You don’t remember. You run away from the courts as soon as you get the nod from your coach. You don’t have any more matches, and it’s not like you could play in your state, even if you did.

When Patrick finds you, you’re rolled up in an empty corner of campus. He is crying, but you don’t notice because he dries away his tears when he hears the heart wrenching sobs coming from your body. He is next to you in a second, one hand on your back. You feel it, but you can’t recognize his voice. You jerk away, breathing erratically. It feels like you’re about to die.

“Hey, hey, Y/n, it’s me. It’s Patrick. Can you hear me?” he doesn’t really know what to do, you’re still shaking, but you nod, so he places a hand on your shoulder and keeps talking. “It’s ok, you’re ok. You’re not dying, I promise. Everything is ok.”

He looks around, wondering if anyone is coming. Maybe Art, a nurse, or even a random student, anyone could do a much better job at calming you down than him. But he doesn’t see anybody. He grabs your hand and places it on his chest.

“Can you feel my breathing? Can you try to copy me?” you nod as he over acts his breathing motions.

Slowly, you start breathing calmer again. You’re still crying, but your vision becomes a little bit less cloudy and you don’t feel like you’re dying anymore. You finally recognize the boy in front of you and you launch yourself into his arms immediately. He is shocked, but he wraps his arms around you  anyways.

“I ruined her career. It’s her knee, probably ACL, she’s never going to play at the same level again. I ruined her career like I ruined my mum’s and now she hates me and…”

“Hey, hey” Patrick says when he feels your breathing grow erratic again. “You’re gonna get yourself worked up again. Do you have somewhere to stay?” he asks, trying to stir away the conversation from the accident, for his own sake as much as yours.

You shake your head, still burrowed in his shoulder.

“I told my coach I’d spend the night with Tashi, they didn’t book me a room.”

“Ok, what about this, I’ll take you to my room, you can shower and spend the night there. And tomorrow, when everyone is calmer, we can talk again.”

––––––––––––––––

You call Tashi a million times, each of them going straight to voicemail. You feel like that’s impersonal, so you hang up and you try again. She is out of surgery, you know that because of the updates Art has texted you. He doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t ask how or where you are, so you don’t tell him. You give up after an hour of trying to reach Tashi, and you record a voicemail.

“Hey, Tash. I know that you’re mad at me, and I’m really sorry. I just want to know how you are. Everything is going to be ok, and I’ll be here every step of the way. That’s all I want you to know. That I’m here. You’re my best friend and I love you. I’m really sorry Tashi. Please call me back.”

The next time you try to call, it says the number doesn’t exist. You cry in the bathroom, and you’re very grateful that Patrick pretends he doesn’t hear you. Art stops replying. You feel like you just lost the two most important people in your life, you don’t know how to cope.

––––––––––––––––

When Patrick wakes up the next morning, you’re gone. On his bedside table there’s a note.

“Dear Patrick,

Thank you so much for all you did for me last night. I decided to leave on the bus this morning with the team instead of staying for the weekend like I planned. It’s obvious that neither Art nor Tashi want me around and I dont have the extra money to stay around if that’s what it’s going on. I hope I’ll see you around!

Y/n”

You get an email three weeks later. An offer for an Adidas sponsorship and a campaign. The news of your dropping out and going pro go public three weeks later. Patrick doesn’t call, you don’t either.

New Rochelle, New York. August 24, 2019:

Art Donaldson: 2-3-15

Patrick Zweig: 6-1-0

Like you expected, Patrick got cocky, and now Art is slowly making his way back. It’s what he is best at, waiting for Patrick to fuck up, then making his move. Patrick reaches for the ball, it goes past him.

“Out!” he calls, immediately.

“Thirty, Love” the umpire announces.

You see Patrick turn around, shock and anger written all over his face.

“That was out! That was way out!”

“The ball was called in.”

Patrick turns around, looking at the line judge.

“Are you blind?”

You want to yell at him, tell him to get his shit together like you do when you’re on the court next to him. Unfortunately, you can’t do that from where you are, so you just watch helplessly. The Umpire warns him again but he doesn’t let up.

“Are you here to do your job or are you just excited that Art Donaldson is over there?

“”I’m going to give you a code violation if you don’t stop this.”

You know he’s not about to stop. Patrick doesn’t give up like that. He pushes and pushes and doesn’t let up. So you know it’s coming.

“Hey Art!” he yells across the net. “This lady wants your autograph!”

“Code violation. Unsportsmanlike conduct. Verbal abuse. Point penalty, Zweig.”

You roll your eyes but you’re not shocked. Without you down there to settle him, it was only a matter of time.

“Is this how you wanna get your points?” he calls towards Art again.

“I’m ready to serve, Patrick.”

“Yeah, I bet you are.”

You sigh at the telltale sign that he is done. He is finally letting it go. He settles back, ready to play again.

“Forty, Love” the umpire says through the speaker.

Art serves.

Manhattan, New York. March 15, 2010:

You’re at one of those galas Adidas keeps insisting you need to attend when you see him. You’re standing to the side in a long maroon dress, trying to go unnoticed. He is on the snack table, stuffing his mouth almost embarrassingly. His suit is a little small on him, a little crumbled up. He has his back towards you and he looks a little different, but you would recognize him anywhere. You have missed him too much to let the pang of guilt on your chest stop you from walking over to him.

“Patrick” you say, tapping his shoulder twice, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

He freezes, then turns around. His mouth wide open with no regards for the food he just stuffed there. He closes his mouth, swallows, then blinks a couple times. Like he is trying to fiigure out if you’re really there or if he’s making it up.

“Y/n?” he asks, you nod. “What are you doing here? Oh my God, you look gorgeous!” his arms wrap around your shoulders, yours make their way around his waist.

“This is a brand event for my sponsors, what are you doing here?”

“Oh, it’s an Adidas event? I had no idea. To be perfectly honest I snuck in, but don’t tell anyone.”

“They have security on the door, how the hell did you sneak in?”

“I am pretty charming.”

You are out of breath just by looking at him. It’s been three years.

“Hey, do you want to get out of here? I’ve done my appearance and I can’t stand this anymore. I’ll get you dinner.”

He was going to say yes without you offering to buy him food, disregarding completely the reason why he is here in the first place. The offer of food just sweetens the deal.

“Yes, let’s go, right now” his eagerness makes you laugh, it reminds you of that first night.

––––––––––––––––

You and Patrick sit in a booth across from each other, too overdressed for the shitty restaurant on the side of the road you’ve ended up in. 

“So… Are you going to tell me why you’re going around sneaking into brand events in a shitty suit and trying to eat all their food?”

He almost chokes on the sip of water he was drinking. It shouldn’t shock him, the way you read him immediately and how you have no qualms on making your thoughts known. However, he hoped he would have a little more time before he had to explain his shitty life to you. It’s a little intimidating, you have everything and you look gorgeous. on the other hand, he is sleeping on his car and weaning the suit he wore to his cousin’s Bar Mitzvah five years ago. You don’t relent, looking at him expectantly but letting him gather his own thoughts. Letting him speak at his own time.

“Well, if it wasn’t obvious, I’m not doing great. I haven’t won in a long time, so” he shrugs his shoulders, you’re still looking at him, not saying anything, so he keeps going, “I’m kind of living off my car and signing up to all the shitty tournaments I can make it to to gather the participation money.”

“What about your parents? Could they not help?” Patrick never talked about his parents, but it was never a secret that they were very well off.

“I haven’t talked to my parents for about as long as you haven’t talked to your mum” you nod, understanding the feeling. “Apparently, having a son like me was a disgrace.”

You frown, shaking your head rapidly.

“That’s bullshit. You’re great.”

“Yeah well, say that to them, and Art, and Tashi. And every single person who’s ever played me. They might disagree,” the self deprecation in his voice is such a stark contrast from the confident, slightly cocky guy you were friends with. “Enough about me tho, what’s up with you?”

“I wanna quit,” you say, blunt, his mouth drops open.

“You’re joking. You’re winning tournaments and slams left and right, and you haven’t even reached the peak of your career!” he knew, because he had been following you, your career, the same way he had with Art and Tashi. “You have a career Grand Slam!”

“Yeah and I already hate it,” you sigh, looking around, checking if anyone could overhear you, but the place was empty. “Every time I step into the court I feel so… Guilty. It’s like I took her career from her. This was supposed to be her, breaking records, getting slams, even the Adidas sponsorship. It’s like I took her life. I was never meant to be the one who made it.”

“Well, your mum would be proud,” his comment makes you giggle and he smiles. “Why did you go pro, then? Why didn’t you just stop playing after college?”

“I thought about it. I didn’t feel like I deserved to play after I injured her.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” he protests. 

“Well she wouldn't agree.”

“It was an accident.”

You shrug your shoulders, you know he is right, but you will never be able to let go of the guilt you feel when you think about your ex best friend. 

“I was going to quit, but after everything happened… I started failing everything. I was so alone. Tennis was the only thing I could get myself to do. It made me feel close to her, to both of them. I spent hours on the court and, somehow, everything in Berkeley reminded me of them. So when Adidas offered to sponsor me if I went pro I didn’t have to think about it. I needed to leave. And now… It pays the bills.”

“Why do you wanna quit then?”

“My name means something now, which could push me enough to open an academy or something. I could move to some rich neighborhood in New York City and spend the rest of my life making decent players out of spoiled rich girls. The only reason why I haven’t quit yet is because I was always hoping I would run into Art or Tashi at a tournament, but I’m starting to lose hope. And even if I saw either of them, I don’t think they’d speak to me at all.”

“Yeah, I know how that feels. I should probably give up too. Get a real job as a waiter or something. But… I can’t”

“‘Cause you love tennis.”

“Yeah, I do,” he nods, then looks straight into your eyes. “But you do too.”

“Yeah, but I’ve never played for myself, or by myself. I played for my mum first, then I played for Tashi. I love tennis but it’s never felt so lonely as it does now. On my own, it’s just not as fun. I love tennis because I loved playing with Tashi. Like how you loved playing with Art. There’s something about falling in love with your doubles partner, am I right?” you say, adding a humorous tone to your voice, but it’s not funny.

Patrick’s head shoots around, then turns to look at you. His mouth and eyes are wide open, the shock is written all over his face.

“How did you know…?

“About you being in love with Art? Patrick that first night, at the Junior U.S Open, it was like I was looking in a mirror. The pining, the eagerness, the awkward first experience you need to say out loud because you want to make sure it actually happened. It was almost freaky. And I’m sure you felt the same way looking back at me.”

“I mean… Yeah, me and Art both thought that you had a thing for Tashi, but then you started dating him so we just thought we had made it up. I thought you were in love with Art?”

“I was, probably still am. With both of them. My love for Tashi didn't take away anything from my love for Art, it’s something I’ve learned about myself.”

“How did you not hate me?” he asks, curious. “Because I kinda hated you a little, just a little bit. I kept flirting with you on front of Art to piss him off, which was as shitty move, thinking about it now.”

“I did hate you very slightly. I was living vicariously through the things you told me about Tashi, but to be fair, I was also quite infatuated by you so, it went away quickly,” you laugh, he does too. You don’t know where you are finding the courage to be so honest with him, but you guess you always kind of felt that way around Patrick, like you could bare your soul in front of him without fear. “I used to hope the four of us would figure it out somehow, a way to make it work. I thought Art and Tashi might have been harder to sway, but I always thought you’d agree if I ever brought it up. It doesn’t matter anymore, but…”

“I would have” he says immediately, nodding, looking at you in a way that tells you he understands you completely. “I was also quite infatuated by you.”

It should be scary to be seen so openly by someone. But with Patrick, it just feels safe.

“Have you ever thought about playing doubles?” you ask, as you’re walking back to his car.

He has offered to bring you back to your house. You are trying to gather the nerves to invite him to spend the night.

“I mean, yeah, it means more tournaments, but I am not the best team player with most people and the one guy I’d like to play with hates me, so I don’t know who I’d possibly play with.”

“What about me?” you ask, his hand stops midair, on the way to open the door of his car for you.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not winning, and I hate playing by myself. It’s perfect. My team could manage us both, you could live with me until you get back on your feet…”

“I can’t afford your team, or to pay you rent, I couldn’t ask that of you.”

“You’re not asking, I’m offering. And you wouldn’t have to pay until we start making money. You’d be doing me a favor.”

“What about your career?”

“I don’t care! I don’t want to hate what I do for the rest of my life. I need to fall back in love with tennis. You could still play singles if you really want to, but it could be our brand. We only play mixed singles with each other. I’m sure Adidas would buy it if we sold them a love story.”

“A love story?”

You’re too confident in your idea to feel shy right now. You’ve been thinking about this since you sat down for dinner, the conversation you had only proving how good of an idea it was.

“I mean, you did say you were quite infatuated by me. And the other people we’re both in love with hate us both so… I just thought we could shoot two birds with one gun.”

“I don’t think that’s quite how the saying goes.”

“Patrick,” you warn, his refusal to acknowledge your proposal head on is making you grow more nervous by the minute.

He opens the door to his car and you jump in. He drives to your house in silence, the only noise coming from the GPS giving directions. You think that’s your answer, and you wonder if there’s a way you can come back from this, if the two of you can still be friends. You’ve missed him, after all. He parks his car in front of your house, which is not as big as he was expecting. You’re about to tell him the offer for a place to sleep is still on the table when he turns to look at you, dead serious.

“So what’s the plan, then?” 

You squeal in excitement, jumping over the console to hug him, you’ve never felt happier. You help him take his things from the back of his car to your guest bedroom.

“I am willing to try this. All of it,” he says, more decided that you’ve ever heard him sound. “But I don’t wanna rush it. I wanna do things right. And I don’t give a shit about playing singles, I’d love just playing with you.”

You both sit on the kitchen table as you go down the plan you’ve made in your head with him. The call you’ll have to make to Adidas, the practice times, how you’re going to make it public, the possible media reactions, etc. Patrick listens attentively, nodding and humming and asking questions in all the right places. He kisses your cheek as you both separate for the night, and for the first time in three years, you think you might be alright.