#y’all they did the forehead touch that’s a win in my book

[katnissmellarkkk]

Hiiii, so I decided to continue my combing through the books for random specific Everlark related content series. This one is Katniss and Peeta taking care of each other. This is Part One and only includes stuff from the first book because it was getting too long. 😭😅. Anyways, hope y’all enjoy.

-

I gently unzip his jacket, unbutton his shirt and ease them off him. His undershirt is so plastered into his wounds I have to cut it away with my knife and drench him again to work it loose. He’s badly bruised with a long burn across his chest and four tracker jacker stings, if you count the one under his ear. But I feel a bit better. This much I can fix. I decide to take care of his upper body first, to alleviate some pain, before I tackle whatever damage Cato did to his leg.

-

Since treating his wounds seems pointless when he’s lying in what’s become a mud puddle, I manage to prop him up against a boulder. He sits there, uncomplaining, while I wash away all the traces of dirt from his hair and skin. His flesh is very pale in the sunlight and he no longer looks strong and stocky. I have to dig the stingers out of his tracker jacker lumps, which causes him to wince, but the minute I apply the leaves he sighs in relief. While he dries in the sun, I wash his filthy shirt and jacket and spread them over boulders. Then I apply the burn cream to his chest. This is when I notice how hot his skin is becoming. The layer of mud and the bottles of water have disguised the fact that he’s burning with fever. I dig through the first-aid kit I got from the boy from District 1 and find pills that reduce your temperature.

“Swallow these,” I tell him, and he obediently takes the medicine. “You must be hungry.”

“Not really. It’s funny, I haven’t been hungry for days,” says Peeta. In fact, when I offer him groosling, he wrinkles his nose at it and turns away. That’s when I know how sick he is.

“Peeta, we need to get some food in you,” I insist.

“It’ll just come right back up,” he says. The best I can do is to get him to eat a few bits of dried apple. “Thanks. I’m much better, really. Can I sleep now, Katniss?” he asks.

“Soon,” I promise. “I need to look at your leg first.” Trying to be as gentle as I can, I remove his boots, his socks, and then very slowly inch his pants off of him.

-

I scoot my square of plastic under him so I can wash down the rest of him. With each bottle I pour over him, the worse the wound looks. The rest of his lower body has fared pretty well, just one tracker jacker sting and a few small burns that I treat quickly. But the gash on his leg . . . what on earth can I do for that?

-

I know the tracker jacker leaves draw out infection, so I start with those. Within minutes of pressing the handful of chewed-up green stuff into the wound, pus begins running down the side of his leg.

-

“What next, Dr. Everdeen?” he asks.

“Maybe I’ll put some of the burn ointment on it. I think it helps with infection anyway. And wrap it up?” I say. I do and the whole thing seems a lot more manageable, covered in clean white cotton.

-

I help him dress, leaving his feet bare so we can walk in the water, and pull him upright. His face drains of color the moment he puts weight on his leg. “Come on. You can do this.”

But he can’t. Not for long anyway. We make it about fifty yards downstream, with him propped up by my shoulder, and I can tell he’s going to black out. I sit him on the bank, push his head between his knees, and pat his back awkwardly as I survey the area.

-

When Peeta’s able to stand, I half-guide, half-carry him up to the cave. Really, I’d like to look around for a better place, but this one will have to do because my ally is shot. Paper white, panting, and, even though it’s only just cooling off, he’s shivering.

I cover the floor of the cave with a layer of pine needles, unroll my sleeping bag, and tuck him into it. I get a couple of pills and some water into him when he’s not noticing, but he refuses to eat even the fruit. Then he just lies there, his eyes trained on my face as I build a sort of blind out of vines to conceal the mouth of the cave.

-

I check his forehead and find it burning and dry. I don’t know what to do. Leave him in the bag and hope the excessive heat breaks the fever? Take him out and hope the night air cools him off? I end up just dampening a strip of bandage and placing it on his forehead.

-

I spend the night half-sitting, half-lying next to Peeta, refreshing the bandage.

-

Peeta sits beside me, leaning against the wall, his bad leg stretched out before him, his eyes trained on the world outside. “Go to sleep,” he says softly. His hand brushes the loose strands of my hair off my forehead. Unlike the staged kisses and caresses so far, this gesture seems natural and comforting. I don’t want him to stop and he doesn’t. He’s still stroking my hair when I fall asleep.

-

I give him more fever pills and stand over him while he drinks first one, then a second quart of water. Then I tend to his minor wounds, the burns, the stings, which are showing improvement.

-

Peeta’s stretched out on top of the sleeping bag in the shade of the rocks. Although he brightens a bit when I come in, it’s clear he feels miserable. I put cool cloths on his head, but they warm up almost as soon as they touch his skin.

-

I sit back on my heels and look at him with a mixture of sadness and satisfaction. A stray berry stains his chin and I wipe it away. “Who can’t lie, Peeta?” I say, even though he can’t hear me.

-

I gingerly lift my hand to my head and find it bandaged. This simple gesture leaves me weak and dizzy. Peeta holds a bottle to my lips and I drink thirstily.

-

He doesn’t seem angry about my tricking him, drugging him, and running off to the feast. Maybe I’m just too beat-up and I’ll hear about it later when I’m stronger. But for the moment, he’s all gentleness.

-

“You need to eat. I’ll go hunting soon,” I say.

“Not too soon, all right?” he says. “You just let me take care of you for a while.”

-

Peeta feeds me bites of groosling and raisins and makes me drink plenty of water. He rubs some warmth back into my feet and wraps them in his jacket before tucking the sleeping bag back up around my chin.

-

Rain drips through several holes in the ceiling, but Peeta has built a sort of canopy over my head and upper body by wedging the square of plastic into the rocks above me.

-

“I think your wound is bleeding again. Come on, lie down, it’s bedtime anyway,” he says.

My socks are dry enough to wear now. I make Peeta put his jacket back on. The damp cold seems to cut right down to my bones, so he must be half frozen. I insist on taking the first watch, too, although neither of us think it’s likely anyone will come in this weather. But he won’t agree unless I’m in the bag, too, and I’m shivering so hard that it’s pointless to object. In stark contrast to two nights ago, when I felt Peeta was a million miles away, I’m struck by his immediacy now. As we settle in, he pulls my head down to use his arm as a pillow; the other rests protectively over me even when he goes to sleep. No one has held me like this in such a long time. Since my father died and I stopped trusting my mother, no one else’s arms have made me feel this safe.

-

I set a good dinner out, but halfway through Peeta begins to nod off. After days of inactivity, the hunt has taken its toll. I order him into the sleeping bag and set aside the rest of his food for when he wakes. He drops off immediately. I pull the sleeping bag up to his chin and kiss his forehead, not for the audience, but for me. Because I’m so grateful that he’s still here, not dead by the stream as I’d thought.

-

Although I’m shaking in the biting wind, I rip off my jacket, remove my shirt, and zip back into the jacket as swiftly as possible. That brief exposure sets my teeth chattering beyond control.

Peeta’s face is gray in the pale moonlight. I make him lie down before I probe his wound. Warm, slippery blood runs over my fingers. A bandage will not be enough. I’ve seen my mother tie a tourniquet a handful of times and try to replicate it. I cut free a sleeve from my shirt, wrap it twice around his leg just under his knee, and tie a half knot. I don’t have a stick, so I take my remaining arrow and insert it in the knot, twisting it as tightly as I dare. It’s risky business — Peeta may end up losing his leg — but when I weigh this against him losing his life, what alternative do I have? I bandage the wound in the rest of my shirt and lie down with him.

-

“Are you cold?” he asks. He unzips his jacket and I press against him as he fastens it around me. It’s a bit warmer, sharing our body heat inside my double layer of jackets, but the night is young. The temperature will continue to drop. Even now I can feel the Cornucopia, which burned so when I first climbed it, slowly turning to ice.

“Cato may win this thing yet,” I whisper to Peeta.

“Don’t you believe it,” he says, pulling up my hood, but he’s shaking harder than I am.

-

Somehow, we make it back to the lake. I scoop up a handful of the cold water for Peeta and bring a second to my lips.

-

The hovercraft materializes overhead and two ladders drop, only there’s no way I’m letting go of Peeta. I keep one arm around him as I help him up, and we each place a foot on the first rung of the ladder.

-

“It’s my fault,” I say. “Because I used that tourniquet.”

“Yes, it’s your fault I’m alive,” says Peeta.

“He’s right,” says Caesar. “He’d have bled to death for sure without it.”

I guess this is true, but I can’t help feeling upset about it to the extent that I’m afraid I might cry and then I remember everyone in the country is watching me so I just bury my face in Peeta’s shirt. It takes them a couple of minutes to coax me back out because it’s better in the shirt, where no one can see me, and when I do come out, Caesar backs off questioning me so I can recover.

-

[montrealmadison]

t'étais réel parce qu'il t'aimait

or, “you were real because he loved you”

i work at a place that accepts children’s book donations, so when “the velveteen rabbit” came across my desk the other day, the beginnings of this popped into my head. then the lovely lau at @weneedtotalkaboutfic​ posted this and also this about ftm!bitty and my brain just took off! enjoy <3

“Has her fever gone down?”

Bitty blows out a long breath and twists around to look at the clock, on the off chance that it’ll give him a better answer than the truth—but all it tells him is that it’s 8:07, and he’s exhausted.

“No.” He pins the phone between his cheek and his shoulder so he can dry his hands. “Hasn’t budged all day.”

On the other end, his mama hums sympathetically. “It will, baby. Y’all are doin’ everything right.”

“Thanks,” he sighs, folding the dishtowel over the oven handle. “It’s just—I hate that she’s so uncomfortable.”

Bitty used to think that he’d made his peace with chaos. He’s moved schools, changed sports, reinvented himself half a hundred times. He’s come out on national television and transitioned publicly on the Internet. He’s written a book, is in the process of drafting another. He’s married to one of the most prominent NHL players in the league, for crying out loud.

But sick toddlers, Bitty is learning, are a whole other hockey game.

read more below or on ao3

Thankfully, at least the kitchen routine is muscle memory at this point: pots dried, dishwasher started, dog fed and watered for the night. The mess in here isn’t too bad, all things considered. He checks the lock on the back door and then lets himself sag against the counter, just a little. It’s been a day. A week, really. He's barely slept for the stress of it all.

“Dicky, honey, you sound like you need a break.” He can picture the frown on his mama’s face when she says it. Funny how her voice still feels like a hug from seven states away. “How’s Jack? Is he alright?”

“Mhm,” he says. “Upstairs puttin’ Ellie to bed, bless him.”

“Good. Well, listen, y’all call anytime if you need us, alright? Your daddy and I will be up, we’re goin’ to the Callahans’.”

“Ooh. Save the good gossip for me?”

“You know I will,” Mama promises with a laugh. “Now go on and sit down for me. I love you.”

“Yes, ma’am. Love you too,” Bitty says, almost absently, and flops onto the couch as the line clicks into silence.

He tries to relax—promise, he really does—but he only makes it about five minutes before the worry wins out and he has to get up again. He just can’t sit still today, especially when he hasn’t heard anything from upstairs in so long. He climbs the stairs and starts down the hall towards Giselle’s room, but pauses and peeks around the doorframe at the soft sound of Jack’s voice.

In the dim light, he can just make out Jack’s giant form carefully folded to fit into Ellie’s bed, one foot planted firmly on the floor to keep him balanced. Bitty presses a hand over his mouth, trying to resist the sudden urge to laugh at the sight of his husband trying to fit in a bed made for a toddler. Thankfully, it works, because neither Jack nor Giselle notice him—their daughter’s curled up next to her papa, tired and sleep-soft, with her flushed little face on Jack’s chest and her slow-blinking eyes fixed on the book in his hands.

The dog’s on the floor in here, too, tail thumping away against the carpet. He huffs, looks up at Bitty with big, understanding eyes as if to say: We got it in here.

Which is clearly the case—they’re already in the middle of a story. Jack is reading in soft, measured tones: “And when the Boy dropped off to sleep, the Rabbit would snuggle down close under his little warm chin and dream, with the Boy's hands clasped close round him all night long.”

It's the French translation, but Bitty feels himself melt almost immediately. He’d recognize The Velveteen Rabbit anywhere. It’d been his favorite as a baby, part of the reason his mama had come home one day with Señor Bun, and—well, the rest is Bittle family history. He leans in the doorway, closes his eyes and drifts while Jack reads.

He’s had a lot of time, now, to learn the differences between French Jack and English Jack, and why each language is important to him—especially where teaching his children is concerned. In French, his voice is softer, lilting, expressive in a way that transfixes Giselle and Bitty alike. Bitty himself has fallen asleep to the sound of that voice many times, and is mostly impressed that Ellie can still fight her own exhaustion just to listen a little longer.

Jack turns the page, and Bitty watches as his face and his voice soften with emotion at the next line: “And then, one day, the Boy was ill.”

Oh. Bitty remembers this part well, too—remembers the feeling of his own mama curled around him when he was sick as a kid. Remembers Coach’s shadow in the doorway, his quieter concern, his gentle hand on Bitty’s shoulder. Jack goes on: “But the Rabbit snuggled down patiently, and looked forward to the time when the Boy should be well again, and they would go out in the garden amongst the flowers and the butterflies and play splendid games in the raspberry thicket like they used to.”

Bitty remembers Señor Bun, equally patient, snuggled up under his chin, and has an idea. He backs quietly out of the room and retreats down the hall to their bedroom, where the bunny himself is propped on the pillows, waiting for them to come to bed. Bittly inhales the familiar scent of the fabric, looks into his bright embroidered eyes. He swears they look understanding somehow.

“You ready to work your magic, buddy?” he asks. “Let’s go.”

Jack does notice him this time, eyes crinkling in acknowledgment when he sees Bitty in the doorway. His voice is getting softer now, the words slowing in time with Giselle’s blinks, and Bitty crosses the room to lay Señor Bun in their daughter’s arms.

Neither of them move until they’re sure that Giselle is asleep at last; even then, Jack extracts himself from the bed as quietly as possible, smoothes the covers over her with a feather-light touch. When they meet in the hallway, Jack presses his face into Bitty’s neck. They stand there in the quiet, breathing together, for a long time.

“How is she?” Bitty finally asks.

“Hot,” Jack says, frowning. “I gave her another Tylenol.”

Bitty sighs deep, presses his forehead into Jack’s chest. “Mm, okay. Let’s hope she kicks this soon.”

“She will,” says Jack. “She’s our kid, that’s gotta count for something, right?”

“Oh, yeah.” Despite himself, Bitty finds that a smile comes easily enough. It always does with Jack’s reassurance. “Gotta be tough in this family.”

Jack laughs lightly. “Yeah.”

They retreat to their bedroom, turning off lights as they go. Their nighttime routine, too, is as comfortable as breathing now. When Bitty comes back from brushing his teeth, he finds Jack in bed, reading glasses on, still flipping through The Velveteen Rabbit.

“I’m glad you picked that one for her,” says Bitty slowly. “That was my favorite book as a kid.”

Jack turns it over in his hands, looks up at Bitty with warmth in his eyes. “This one?” he asks, smiling. “That explains Señor Bun, eh?”

“Yeah.” Bitty has to swallow around a sudden lump in his throat, and almost immediately finds himself blinking back hot tears. He bites his lip. “Well, and I, um—no, it’s stupid.”

“Bits?” says Jack, concerned. He closes the book and sits up. “Hey, no it’s not. Why else was it important?”

Bitty looks down. “I used to want to be Real,” he says, all in a rush. “Just like the Rabbit. Used to wish there’d be a fairy that would see how unhappy I was, and come and—oh, Lord—”

It’s like a switch flips in his brain; all of a sudden he’s crying in earnest, days of pent-up stress and fear rushing past the floodgates at once. Jack makes a soft sound and holds Bitty close, letting him cry it out, rocking him just a little. His hands are big and warm on Bitty’s back.

“Shh, bud, hey,” he says. “That’s not stupid at all.”

Bitty sniffles and scrubs at his eyes, lets out a burst of slightly hysterical laughter. “I—God. I don’t know what it is, I was looking at you and Ellie and—I don't know, I just wish the person I was when I first read it could see me now. I wish that little kid hadn’t had to go through all the shit I did to get here.”

Jack doesn’t say anything at first, just pulls back a little. Bitty looks up, confused—but Jack’s just reaching behind him to grab the book off his nightstand, flipping through it until he finds the page he wants. Then he puts an arm back around Bitty’s shoulders and pulls him close, kisses his temple.

“Generally,” he reads, in English this time, “by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand.”

He fixes Bitty with those bottomless blue eyes. "I hope you'll let me keep telling you," he says slowly, "that it all meant something, bud. You made yourself real. You gave us our daughter."

Bitty laughs, watery. "I did."

"You did." Jack kisses him again, soft and full of meaning. "And I promise I'll never stop trying to understand."

[haidyn-reeves]

Lie to Me

Summary: The classic truth spell trope with a wicked twist.

Pairing: Dean x Female!Reader

Word Count: 4948 

Warnings: Dean’s an asshole. Angst makes the world go ‘round. Insecurities briefly mentioned. Did I mention Dean’s an asshole? Fluff if you squint.

A/N: I’m back! This is my entry for @jawritter‘s Make Me Cry challenge and @deanwanddamons 2k Celebration! My prompts are in bold. I hope y’all enjoy!

It was no secret that Dean had changed since he took the Mark of Cain. He was more reckless than normal, which only progressed after taking out the entire Stine family for what they did to Charlie and almost did to Y/N. Y/N was in the bunker when the Stines invaded, resorting to hiding in one of the trunks of the classic cars in the garage to stay safe. Once Dean left Castiel bloody and battered in the library, he raced to the garage, having told Y/N not to move until he came for her. When he found her, his features only softened once he saw how terrified she was of him; the amount of blood covering his clothes and hands was enough to turn her stomach. Y/N, as usual, did her best to clean up the older Winchester, using it as a way to distract her from what happened only hours prior. When it was time to say goodbye to Charlie, Y/N separated herself from the brothers, the tension between them so thick you needed a chainsaw to cut through. Dean tossed some heated remarks to Sam and Y/N sank to the muddy ground, furious that this was happening in front of the pyre that held their dear friend. Dean stormed off and Sam came around to help her up, the pair watching the bow-legged hunter climb into his Impala and drive away.

Dean was angry, and the only way he knew how to release that anger was to hunt and kill whatever he could. He scoured the news, desperate to find something he could take down, preferably alone. He couldn’t look at Sam, blaming his brother for the death of his surrogate sister. He didn’t want to bring Y/N with him, he just wanted to drive, hunt, and kill.

Dean found a case, one that would hopefully settle the Mark’s need for blood and his own anger. The fact that it was a witch was an added bonus.

He left in the middle of the night when Sam and Y/N couldn’t try to stop him or tag along. He felt a little bad leaving Y/N behind but the Mark stung too badly for him to care at the moment. He wouldn’t be gone long, the case was only two states over, he’d back soon enough. 

In the bunker, Y/N was pissed that Dean was ignoring her calls. Sam expected it, he knew how angry Dean was, so he expected for his brother to ignore him, but Y/N? He adored her, for Dean to ignore her was unlike him. Y/N was confused, she wasn’t part of the plot to save Dean, Sam explicitly kept her out of the loop because he knew asking her to sneak behind Dean’s back was out of the question. She was loyal to the older Winchester, to a fault, and asking her to go against his wishes was more than even Sam could muster. 

Ever since the Stines invaded and killed Charlie, Y/N was thinking about her feelings for Dean. She called him immediately when they broke the door down and he’s the one who instructed her to hide in the garage; it was a plan the two agreed on for these situations. While she was hiding in the trunk of one of the vintage vehicles, all she could think about was that she could die and never be able to tell Dean how she felt. She decided then that she’d tell him, and soon. That’s why she was so upset that he left without telling her, it just prolonged her getting everything out in the open.

While the two waited in the bunker for Dean’s return, Dean handled the witch with ease. She tried at the last minute to hit him with what he assumed was a spell of sorts, but the witch killing bullet was in her before she could finish the incantation. He felt better, the Mark’s hunger was satiated, and there was one less witch causing trouble. A win all around, in his book.

Y/N was sitting in the library researching when the bunker door opened three days later. She was trying to keep the hurt and the anger at bay, still upset that Dean was ignoring her for reasons she couldn’t figure out while she was ready to tell him how she felt. Sam was out grabbing dinner, she assumed it was him.

“That was fast,” she remarked, getting up to help him unpack, until she was face to face with Dean. “Oh, not Sam. Welcome home.” She moved to greet him with a hug, only for him to step back out of her reach. Her face fell, Dean never rejected her touch, even with the Mark. “Dean?”

“Don’t touch me,” he growled, “I hate it when you throw yourself at me like that.”

“You…what? Since when?”

“Since forever. Just shows how clingy you are.”

Y/N stared in shock before letting her eyes cast to the floor, the heat in her cheeks so warm coupled with his venomous glare that she was growing physically uncomfortable before him. “I’m s-sorry. I didn’t realize…I thought we…I thought you and I…“

“What? You thought there was something here?” Dean motioned between the two of them. “Far from it.” He looked her over, his eyes running over her figure. “You think I’d ever want you?”

“I…I thought m-maybe…”

“Well I don’t. I don’t even want you here.”

“That’s not true,” she whispered, knowing if she was really that unwelcome, he’d have no problem kicking her out.

“True? You want the truth? Oh, sweetheart, you can’t handle the truth. But I’ll give it to you. Don’t you think if I wanted you, I’d have done something by now? You’re just another burden that was dumped on me that I didn’t ask for.” He paused, circling the war table, Y/N visibly shaking before him as she tried to keep herself composed, though it was obvious she was already broken at his words. “You’re always in the way, you know? You’re one more person I have to protect on hunts, since you’re not exactly reliable these days. Maybe if you were in shape you’d be less of a liability, then I wouldn’t have to constantly be saving your sorry ass-“

“Dean!” Sam barked, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Y/N hadn’t even heard him come in, the blood was pounding in her ears as she fought back tears, refusing to cry in front of Dean for fear he’d throw that in her face, too. He already implied she was fat, using her biggest insecurity against her, she didn’t need him throwing another one her way.

“What? I’m just saying,” Dean shrugged.

“You don’t just say that,” Sam glared before shooting a knowing look to Y/N, nodding his head towards the kitchen. She took the hint and all but ran out of the room. “What the hell could she have said to make you say that to her? She didn’t do anything to you.”

“She’s just annoying, another mouth to feed, a cockblock at the bar. We don’t need her here bringing us down. I wish she’d just leave.”

“Do you even hear yourself? That’s Y/N. She’s done more for us than anyone else has. She takes care of us when we’re sick and hurt, she puts up with our shit, specifically all of your shit and you…what the fuck Dean?”

Dean rolled his eyes, picking up his bags and turning to leave the room. Sam watched in disbelief before joining Y/N in the kitchen finding her with her head in her hands at the table. “Hey, hey, shhhh,” he whispered, sitting down next to her and pulling her into his arms. She sobbed harshly into his flannel. 

“He h-hates me,” she cried, the words muffled against his shirt. Sam shook his head, furious with his brother.

“He doesn’t, he couldn’t.” He rubbed her back soothingly, gently rocking her from side to side. “That wasn’t my brother.”

“I…I d-don’t understand,” she whimpered, sniffling.

“What exactly happened? Can you tell me?”

Y/N sat up slightly, wiping the tears off her cheeks and taking a deep breath to steady herself. “I thought he was you, I said hello, went to hug him. He backed up and when I tried to see what was wrong, he just started in on me.” She looked down. “I was finally ready to tell him, Sam.”

His eyes widened, knowing exactly what she meant. “Oh fuck no,” he muttered, pulling her back into his embrace. “Something must’ve happened while he was gone…but even then he had no right to talk to you like that. For everything that he’s been through, even with the Mark, he’d never, ever, talk to you like that. If it was anyone else, they’d be dead. If he could’ve heard himself…“ Sam stopped, shaking his head in anger. “Something’s not right.”

“Am…am I clingy, Sam?” Y/N asked quietly, Dean’s words echoing in her head.

“God, no, Y/N. You’re not. A few hugs and cuddles here and there doesn’t make you clingy.” Sam smiled sadly, tucking her hair behind her ear. “You are one of the best things to happen to Dean and me. You look after us, keep this place running, you help with hunts and research. You’re incredibly important to us and you’re a part of this little family, regardless of what my brother said. I love you, he loves you…hell, the real him adores you. You’re the little sister I always wanted, I always want you around. You’re not a cockblock or another mouth to feed and you certainly don’t bring us down. You build us up and help us keep going, every day. And before you say anything, no, there is nothing physically wrong with you, so please don’t get back into that headspace. You’re doing so well, don’t let this bring you back into that dark place. I’ll talk to him.”

Y/N smiled weakly, eyes brimming over with tears at Sam’s reassurance. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“You’re welcome,” he smiled, placing a soft kiss to her forehead. “How about you go take a bath and relax a bit while I try to figure out what’s going on, okay?”

She nodded and he squeezed her in another hug before letting her go, watching her leave the kitchen and make her way towards her room, which was unfortunately next to Dean’s. Y/N tiptoed passed his room, terrified of doing anything to set him off on her again. Once in the safety of her bedroom, she gathered her comfiest pajamas, slippers, and her favorite bath soap to bring to the bathroom. She set those items aside, rummaging for her duffle. She didn’t like being so close to Dean after what happened, so she decided to throw her necessities and some clothes into the bag, topping it with her favorite pillow and blanket. She knew the bedroom next to Sam’s was empty, for now she’d make that her room until she felt comfortable being around the older hunter again.

On the way to the bathroom, Y/N dropped her bag, blanket and pillow into the spare room, closing the door behind her before heading into the private, smaller bathroom in the bunker. She turned the water on in the tub, adjusting the temperature before plugging the drain and adding her bath soap before shedding her clothes and sinking into the water below the bubbles.

Down the hall and a few twists and turns away, Sam was making his way to Dean’s room, having already sent a quick prayer to Castiel in hopes he could help him figure out what was wrong with his brother. 

“Sam,” Castiel greeted with a flutter of his wings, “what’s going on?”

Sam sighed heavily. “Something’s wrong with Dean, I don’t know what but the way he just lashed out at Y/N tells me it’s bad.” They stopped outside Dean’s door, Sam knocking hard three times before opening the door, not bothering to wait for an invitation.

“Get out,” Dean growled, ripping his headphones off his ears. 

“Not until you tell me what happened when you were gone to make you come back a grade A douchebag,” Sam shot back.

“Nothing happened, now get out.”

“Dean, you’re not yourself.”

“I’m fine,” Dean glared, his eyes on Castiel. 

“The Dean I know never would’ve said what he did to Y/N, so that’s bullshit,” Sam argued.

“She had it coming,” he shrugged. Sam’s eyes widened and his nostrils flared with anger. “Oh, calm down.”

“You know what Dean? Maybe you should leave for a while,” Sam started, advancing towards Dean, “sort your shit out.”

Dean rose from his bed, glowering at his little brother. “You’re really gonna kick me out? For her?”

Before Sam could respond, Castiel took the opportunity to move around Sam, placing his fingers to Dean’s forehead to see if he could use his grace to identify the problem. “He’s under a spell.”

“A spell? What kind of spell?” Sam asked, looking between the angel and the thoroughly pissed off hunter.

“I’m not sure, but it’s there, clinging to him.” Castiel pressed his fingers to Dean’s forehead again to try and ease him a bit to get him to cooperate better. Dean sat back down on his bed, a little more relaxed.

“Dean, you have to tell me what happened when you were gone,” Sam pleaded.

“I was on a hunt, it was a witch.”

“Do you remember anything that she said?”

“She was chanting something but I killed her before she could finish.”

“Or maybe you didn’t,” Sam sighed. “I’ll call Rowena, see if she can maybe give use insight as to what kind of spell the witch used.” He pulled out his phone before looking at his brother again. “You stay the hell away from Y/N, got it? You’ve done enough damage.”

“I’ll watch him,” Castiel offered, Sam nodding in agreement before shooting his brother one last look and heading to the library, dialing Rowena’s number.

“Samuel,” she answered.

“Rowena, I need your help.”

“You seem to be needing a lot of that lately, Samuel. And yet you’ve done nothing for me in return.”

“I’m working on it,” he responded curtly, “the quicker you get to the bunker, the faster I finish the deal. It’s about Y/N.”

The witch sighed, having developed a soft spot for the girl. “Fine, fine. I’ll be there soon.”

After her bath, Sam informed Y/N that Rowena was coming and that there was some sort of spell involved. Y/N cringed at his brother’s name, her body tensing. Sam explained that he knew the spell wasn’t an excuse for what Dean said to her, but it helped piece a few things together. Y/N just wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to look at the hunter the same way again.

Until Rowena arrived, Y/N stayed in her new bedroom, locked away from everyone but Sam. He brought her meals, knowing she wasn’t up to wandering the bunker halls and risking the chance of running into Dean. As strong as he knew she was, even he didn’t think she’d be able to handle another run-in with the older hunter. 

Two days later, Rowena made her way down the steps of the bunker. Sam did his best to fill her in on what little information he got from Dean, which was a terrible pronunciation of whatever the young witch chanted at him, plus the crap attitude he’d been exhibiting ever since, including what he said to Y/N.

“But here’s the thing, I know my brother and I know how he feels about her, and it’s…it’s like everything he said to her is the exact opposite of what he’s ever said to me about her. He’s said some pretty fucked up things in his life, even to me, but to her? He’d never. It doesn’t make sense, he said the witch didn’t even finish the spell.”

“Perhaps your brother changed his mind.”

“Rowena, no. Cas was able to detect the remnants of a spell that seems to be stuck to him. That’s why I need your help, I don’t know what spell it could be.”

“Your brother, he possesses the Mark of Cain, correct?” Sam nodded. “Then whatever spell she cast…the Mark in a way protects the person who bears it. The person can’t die, as you know. In this case, it sounds like the Mark warped the spell that was thrown at Dean and it’s now sticking to him instead of wearing off like it normally would after a few days.”

“But what kind of spell? A truth spell wouldn’t make him say all that…”

“No, but the Mark could twist a truth spell into making him lie, instead. Do you know anything about the witch?”

“She was casting truth spells and tearing couples apart around town,” Dean answered, making his presence known as he entered the war room. “She was angry that her husband had an affair and she took it out on everyone else.”

Sam groaned. “So that’s it. It was a truth spell but the Mark made you lie instead of actually tell the truth.”

Rowena rolled her eyes, “and turned you into quite the dick.” Dean shot a glare at the red-head, ready to bark a nasty reply when Sam stepped between the two.

“You don’t speak unless we ask you to,” he ordered, staring down his brother. Dean’s eyes widened before he cocked a brow, smirking.

“You don’t think there’s more I could say to you this time?”

“I don’t care what you say to me, I know it isn’t you. But Y/N? She’s off limits.”

“Too late for that-“

“ENOUGH,” Rowena yelled, both hunters jumping in surprise, “now, Samuel, you can fetch me these ingredients and Dean, well, you can sit down and keep your mouth shut.”

As Sam went to the storage room to gather the ingredients needed for the spell to reverse the one stuck to Dean, Rowena followed him to Y/N’s makeshift room, knocking on the door. 

“Go away,” Y/N answered pitifully.

“Someone’s here to see you, honey,” Sam answered, “its safe, I promise.” He unlocked her door and left her and Rowena alone while he went to find her supplies. Y/N sat up on her bed, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the witch.

“Hi,” she smiled weakly, moving over on her bed to make room for the witch.

“Oh darlin’, Auntie Rowena will fix it,” she soothed, sitting at the foot of the bed. “You see, Dean was hit with a truth spell, but because he bears the Mark, the spell backfired and made him lie instead. Sam’s fetching me the ingredients I need for a reversal to get rid of the spell that’s clinging to him because of the Mark.”

“So…all the things he said…”

“I’m guessing whatever he wanted to say, he said the opposite. Apparently the witch was cheated on by her husband and due to her anger she took it out on everyone, especially men, and cursed them to tell the truth. But in Dean’s case, he was cursed to lie.”

“And be a douche,” Y/N muttered. “He said some awful things, Ro.”

“The man’s not exactly kind on a good day if you’re on his bad side,” Rowena noted. “I’ll fix him. He’s going to remember everything and run in here and apologize, you’ll see.”

“I’m not sure I can look at him, I mean, he was so cold…so brutal. If I look at him that’s all I’ll see.”

“I think once he realizes what he said and how badly he hurt you, you’ll see a side of him you’ve never seen before. Dean’s very protective of you, we all know it, so once he realizes he’s the one who hurt you, he’s gonna be devastated. You just have to remember, it wasn’t him.”

Y/N nodded, though still apprehensive. Rowena smiled warmly, patting her legs before leaving the room to see if Sam found everything. Y/N curled back up under the covers, thinking about what Rowena said. Knowing that a spell made him say those things made her feel the smallest bit better, but it was still replaying in her head since it happened. She could still see Dean’s look of disgust and hear the hatred dripping off his tongue. The idea of facing him, even after he was cured of this spell, still terrified her.

In the library, Dean was sitting at one of the tables nursing his whiskey while Rowena and Sam worked on the spell. Cas was on standby, ready to intervene if Dean got out of hand somehow and also to see if the lingering spell faded. 

Minutes later, Rowena was chanting the incantation for the reversal, Sam and Cas on either side of Dean as a precaution. A beat passed before Dean’s stoic expression faded and his eyes glowed green. Rowena sighed with relief and Cas pressed two fingers to Dean’s forehead, nodding. The spell worked, Dean was back to normal.

And oh, what a crash it was.

Dean blinked a few times, looking around at their worried faces as he registered what had happened. When he realized who was missing in the room, his eyes widened as it all came flooding back like a movie scene in his head. 

“Where is she?” He choked, a wave of panic washing over him as he realized the magnitude of what he said to her.

“You remember?” Dean looked at Sam, shame and regret on his face.

“Everything.”

“She’s in the room next to mine, just go easy on her, Dean. You really did a number on her.” Dean nodded, hastily leaving the library and racing down the bunker halls until he got to the room Y/N was in. He took a deep breath before knocking softly.

“Come in,” she called, voice quiet. Dean turned the knob slowly, opening the door to find her curled up on the bed. The blatant fear on her face didn’t go unnoticed by Dean, the grimace leaving a sharp pain in his chest.

“Sweetheart,” his voice was barely above a whisper, “we need to talk.”

“I think you’ve said enough,” she answered, less bite in her reply than she would have liked.

“That…that wasn’t me, you know I’d never-“

“I thought I did, Dean. But that…even with a spell…,” She looked away from him, shaking her head. Dean’s face fell, eyes filling with tears. He really fucked up and it wasn’t even his fault this time.

“Y/N, I swear on Sam’s life, I didn’t mean a single word that I said to you that night. That wasn’t me talking, that was the spell. It’s like everything I wanted to say to you came out the complete opposite, the Mark completely took over and I’m so fucking sorry.” Dean paused, slowly making his way to her bed. When she didn’t object, he sat down by her feet.

“Sweetheart, I need you to look at me,” he begged. Y/N looked up from the spot she was fixated on on the floor, her eyes meeting his teary ones. “I wouldn’t change a single thing about you, you are perfect exactly the way you are. I wouldn’t be able to go on day after day without you supporting me. You aren’t a burden and I never want you to leave even though I think you deserve better than this life. Selfishly, I can’t let you go. You make this place feel like a home and I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re not clingy…you mean so much to me, Y/N. I can’t tell you how sorry I am and how much I hate that I’ve hurt you. I’m supposed to protect you and you’re…you’re scared of me.”

“You looked at me with such hate,” she whispered, cringing. “I can’t unsee it no matter how hard I try.”

“Sweetheart, I could never hate you,” Dean breathed, “not when I’m too busy loving you.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, “You…what?”

“When I got back that night you said you thought there was something between us and I told you there wasn’t because of the spell’s influence. Under normal circumstances, I would’ve agreed with you. There’s always been a different connection between you and I. I don’t see you as a little sister the way Sam does. I know what I said, but Y/N, how could I not want you?”

Y/N blinked, trying to process what he was saying. “Uh, well, for starters, look at me.”

“I’m always looking at you. I think you’re beautiful exactly the way you are. You take care of me, you put up with my shit, and you’re my best friend. I can’t see myself with anyone else.”

“Dean…I-“

“You don’t have to say it back. I put you through hell, I don’t expect you to feel that way about me anymore.”

“No, I do, and that’s been the hardest part.”

Dean smiled sadly, reaching out to cup her cheek. “If you let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life, however long that is, proving to you that I mean everything I just said.”

“It wasn’t you,” she whispered, “you don’t have to.”

“But I’ll do it if it means you’ll forgive me.” He wiped a few stray tears off her cheek, his thumb grazing her cheekbone. “Can I hold you?” He asked meekly, biting his lip. She nodded into his palm before getting scooped up in a hug, her face buried in his neck as Dean finally broke, tears landing in her hair. “I’m so sorry,” he cried, squeezing her to him.

“Dean,” she mumbled, her lips against his skin sending shivers down his spine. “Please don’t cry.” She rubbed his back softly, trying to soothe him. She didn’t expect this. 

“I hate this thing so much,” he muttered, her eyes casting down to his forearm where the Mark was hidden by his henley sleeve. “All it does is make me angry and it’s getting harder and harder to control it, especially after…”

“I know,” she nodded, knowing he meant Charlie and the Stines. “That whole thing…that’s what made me want to tell you how I felt about you. Waiting for you in the trunk of the car felt like an eternity and I knew I would be okay as long as you got to me. I always feel safe when I’m with you, Dean, always. But I was so scared that they’d find me first and I’d die before getting to tell you. You were so angry and it felt wrong to tell you right after we lost Charlie, but I gathered the little confidence I had while you were gone-“

“And then I came home under a spell and said what I said.” Dean sighed, his grip tightening on her. “When you called me and told me the Stines broke in, Y/N, I’ve been in awful situations like that before with Sam but this…this felt so different. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, not until I saw you and knew you were okay. Everything felt like it was going in slow motion, no matter how fast I drove.” Y/N shuddered at the memory, digging herself deeper into Dean’s chest, face pressed against his neck. She inhaled deeply, relaxing as his scent that can only be described as Dean calmed her senses. “You’re okay, you’re safe,” he whispered, kissing her hair. He laid them down on her bed, tucking her under his chin.

“Dean,” she whispered, fisting his henley. 

“Yeah baby?”

“I do love you, you know.” She could feel the chuckle rumble through his chest.

“I maybe had a small feeling, or at least hoped I was reading everything right.” He ran his fingers through her hair gently, breathing in her shampoo. “Will you give me a chance to make it all up to you?”

She pulled back to look up at him, cupping his cheek. He nuzzled against her palm, eyes locked on hers as his stubble tickled her skin. “Of course, handsome.” He grinned, pressing a kiss to her palm as she blushed. She couldn’t stay mad at Dean, never was able to. But knowing how he truly felt about her, that everything that happened was the work of a witch, she knew she couldn’t hold a grudge. That wasn’t her Dean, the man who sang her back to sleep when her nightmares took over even though he hated singing to anyone but Baby’s steering wheel. The man looking at her so intently, holding her so tightly, this was her Dean. “And Dean?” 

“Sweetheart?”

“I forgive you,” she smiled, Dean’s eyes softening as he let out a breath of relief he didn’t know he was holding. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, pulling her impossibly closer. He kissed her forehead and her nose before softly kissing her lips, pulling back and brushing his nose against hers. Dean knew what happened wasn’t his fault, and Y/N may have forgiven him anyway, but he fully intended on spending the rest of his life, however long it may be, making sure she knew just how much he loved her, and doing his very best to deserve someone as incredible as her.

[strawberri-blonde]

Daisy - Draco Malfoy

Summary: You have a secret admirer who gifts you your favorite flower, after three times he reveals himself but it doesn’t go as planned.

Warnings: None

Laughter filled your body as you listened to Ron go on and on about how Hermione will never feel the same as he did. “What are you all talking about?” The beautiful Gryffindor nudged your shoulder making you giggle as the boys instantly shutting their mouths to scared to get caught. Rolling your eyes at Harry’s widen eyes and Ron’s shuttering you replied.

“We were talking about how Ron absolutely sucks at potions and he is too intimate to ask you for help.” Ron gave you a look but Hermione tilted her head. “You know how boys get. Their egos are fragile.”

“Hey.” The red head threw a crumb at you while Harry laughed along with Hermione.

“I’ll help you Ron.” Seeing the blush appeared on his pale face you picked up your cup to shield the smirk that was to evident if you didn’t try to hide it.

“Pssh, if you think Granger can help you, you’re crazy Weasley.” Hearing that familiar voice that caused chills to run down your spine. You quickly brushed off the feeling as Ron spoke.

“Ah, shut it Malfoy.” You set your cup down then reached for your fork and rested it in your hands.

“Please, Draco can we have one day without you terrorizing us?” The blonde looked at you and his  stature stiffened. Luckily, no one noticed it and he was able to concentrate on the real reason he was here.

“Honestly, Y/n.” He leaned down placing his arms on the either side you, making your heart race but you kept a straight face. “I don’t know why you hangout with these mugbloods.” And just like that you rolled your eyes and turned to him making it so your lips were only inches apart.

“Because they’re my friends Draco. You should try to get some other than your minions.” Sucking in a breath as his eyes trailed down your face towards your lips. “That’s not a friendship.”

“Hmm.” The two of you stayed in that position until the boys spoke up.

“Back off Malfoy.”

“Yeah just leave her be.”

Clearing your throat, Draco leaned back and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his robe. “When you’re ready to be around your on kind you know where to find me.” You rolled your eyes again then turned back, not facing the boy then dropped your fork to pick up your cup to take a sip from it.

“Not in a million years, Draco.” The golden trio plus others that couldn’t help but listen in snickered at the platinum blonde. The pure blood only rolled his eyes and turned away but not before sparing you one more glance.

Harry and Ron carefully watched the Slytherin walked off to sit with the members of his house. “Good, he’s annoying.” The Weasley snipped before taking a bite of his food.

Letting out a sigh, you put down your cup and went to grab your fork but when you did something else was in its place. A white daisy. “What in the-”

“Y/n, did you do that?” Picking up the delicate flower you turned to Hermione and shook your head in confusion.

“No, I...” you paused to inspect the beauty, quite literally in shock. “I didn’t do it.”

Harry squinted his eyes at the flower. “Maybe you did it on accident.”

Ron nodded in agreement. “Or someone could’ve cursed your fork?” This caused all of you to turn to Ron in disbelief. “What?”

“I don’t think someone would curse my fork to turn into something like a flower.” Hermione grabbed onto your arm and let a smile cover her beautiful features.

“Maybe someone did it because they have a crush?”

Your eyebrows rose and eyes widen at this. “I don’t think so Hermione.” Feeling her hands slip off your arms you brought the flower closer towards your face and smile at it. “But I have to say I do enjoy the sweet surprise.”

-

The crowds roaring echoed in your ear lighting up the fire inside as you yelled with them. Hermione and you were jumping up and down from the Gryffindor team scoring a point tying with Slytherin. “Merlin, we need to win this.” Hermione nodded in agreement clenching her hat onto her curly long locks. “Go, boys!” Surprisingly enough, it seemed as though Draco somehow heard you through all the ruckus and y’all locked eyes for a brief moment. He was the first to look away and knock a Gryffindor off his broom. Smirking towards yourself you hated that you found it hot.

“What was that?” Hermione’s question startled you a bit causing you to grab at your chest in shock.

You pushed back some of your hair as you kept your eyes onto the match, not daring to look the girl in the eye. Because you knew that if she did, the girl would know your secret. “What are you talking about?” Gryffindor blocked a goal causing you to scream but Hermione crossed her arms over her chest giving you her signature look.

“Oh don’t give me that?” You sighed making a cloud surround your face because it was so cold. “You like him. You like Malfoy-” insanely you turned around and covered her mouth with your hand.

“Don’t.” Your voice came out very squinky making you wince. “Please Hermione, not right now.” The brunette squeezed your biceps in comfort and when you let go of her mouth a smile had taken over.

“Okay, but later-Y/N!” Hermione pulled you toward her as a golden snitch came flying your way. You lifted your arms up to cover your face and flinched expecting to feel pain but it never came. Instead you felt the slightest touch. Slowly you moved your hands away from your face and looked down to see a daisy. Hermione bent down and picked it up to hand it to you. “Someone just saved your live with a daisy.”

Your breath got caught in your throat as you reached out to grasp the flower. Looking at the beauty, it looked the same as the one that appeared in the dinning hall. “I guess I’m lucky.”

After that, Slytherin had won the match, with Draco scoring the winning point for his team. Of course you were upset that your house had lost but seeing Draco’s smile made it a little better.

Walking down the main hall, you took off your hat and ran your fingers through your hair still holding onto the white daisy. “Y/n.” Surprised to hear the voice you turned around quickly to look over at the platinum blonde.

“Draco? What are you doing?” His hair was pressed to his forehead from the sweat and his cheeks were flushed from all the adrenaline pumping through his veins. Surprisingly, he smelt amazing despite having sweat all over.

“I-I was wondering if you were okay.” A sweet smile danced its way onto your face as Malfoy neared.

You took a step forward making it so you were only a few distances away. “Well,” you said as you twirled the daisy in between your thumb and pointer finger. “I didn’t get knocked out by a snitch sooo I think I’m doing okay.” Draco laughed at this and stepped a little closer.

“Well that’s a good thing.”

You grinned at him before replying. “Was the great Draco Malfoy worried about little old me?” The boy dragged his tongue across the inside of his cheek to the bottom of his lower jawed under his bottom lip. His eyes never left yours making you giggle. You reached forward with the hand that held the daisy, you grabbed the collar of his green rob and pulled him until his body was touching yours. “It’s a good look on you Malfoy.” And just like that all the confidence the Slytherin had was gone. You seeing how flushed the boy was, laughed in response and pulled away from him. “Have a nice night Malfoy.”

Cursing at himself for being so weak, Draco smiled at you one last time before you turned around to turn in for the night. “You too.”

-

Frustrations ran high as you stared at the piece of paper going over every ingredient, every little detail trying to get this potion right but for some reason it just wasn’t working. “Fuck me.” You groaned tugging on your roots.

“Is that an invitation?”

“Merlin.” You gasped turning around in shock. The moon shined through the window causing some light into the library but the fire did most of the work. You really didn’t expect for anyone to be in the library this late but here you were. “Draco? What are you doing here?” His slider body made his way over to where you were sitting and pressed his hands against the table.

“I was terrorizing 2nd year mugbloods and I lost them. Then I saw the light in the library and got curious.” You rolled your eyes then rested your chin into your hand.

“You know curiosity killed the cat right?” Now it was Dracos time to roll his eyes as he pulled out the wooden chair to sit across from you.

“Now it’s your turn.” You both had a mini stare off as you finally let out a sigh in defeat. You reluctantly turned the book around and showed it to the Slytherin.

”I cant figure out this spell and Snape has been giving me hell.” Draco’s eyes watched as you palmed your face in distress and his heart became heavy. “I’ve read everything at least seven times and I keep messing it up. And if I don’t get it right in class Snape will quite literally have my head.”

Chuckles filled the room as Draco grabbed onto the page. “We can’t have that can we?” Reading over the potion Dragon Dung Fertilizer. You watched carefully as his eyes gazed over the ingredients and looked at the materials. “Okay put it together like you have been because I think I know what you’ve been doing wrong.” You gave him a look but he just laughed. “I did the same thing too.”

“Whatever.” You laughed out then started to put all the ingredients together then at the last step toasted dragonfly thoraxes you grabbed your wand and lightly burned them. Before you could even put them in the bowl, Draco clicked his tongue against his teeth. “What?”

“I know it says toasted but you basically have to fry them.” You gave Draco a look but he rested his hand onto his chin. “Just trust me.” Giving the boy one last look you enknighted the spell that caused fire to spew from your wand and you burned the thoraxes to a crisp. Gently you set the ingredients all together and mixed them perfectly. Once everything seemed set you picked up the dead plant that came from Harry’s and Ron’s room and applied the fertilizer to the soil. At first nothing happened but then the golden potho came alive and grew a foot long in leaves.

“Draco!” You squealed out, dashing from your seat to grab him into a hug. Draco was stund but quickly adapted placing his arms over yours. “Thank you.” You mumbled a thanks into his chest giving the boy butterflies.

“Yeah no problem.” You pulled away first to look over at the plant and that’s when Dacro noticed the daisies in your book of spells. You were trying to see who was sending them. “I have to go it’s late.”

“You’re right.” You nodded while tidying up. “I’ll see you tomorrow Draco. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Y/n.” You listened to his footsteps until they disappeared then as you lifted up the pothos plant that’s when you saw it. A daisy.

-

“Oh it’s so Draco.” You let out a scoff as you pulled up your skirt then turned to your dorm mate. “I don’t know why you deny it so.”

“I’m denying it, Mione.” You looked back towards your mirror to brush your hair. “I’m denying it because I don’t want to get my hopes up.” Granger jumped up from her bed and walked behind you to comb your hair for you.

“So you like him.” Sharing eye contact through the reflection you nodded shamefully.

“Since second year. I know he’s mean to you and the others and I shouldn’t; but I see through all that. He’s going through pain and instead of standing up to his dad he takes it out of others.” Hermione gave you a soft smile, finishing up your hair.

“And that’s why we love you Y/n. It’s because you care for others who really don’t deserve it.” Shrugging your shoulders you turned to face the beauty. “But if you like him, Ron and Harry will get over it.” Her comment made you scoff. “It might take a while but they will.”

You stayed quiet but decided to shake the comment off. “I have to get to class.” Not giving Hermione a chance to start the conversation back up you threw on your robe and grabbed your wand, and books for class plus paper and a quill. “We’ll talk later. Promise.” You raced out the door not really looking at to where you were going. Once you turned a corner your body seemed to crash into something. “Bloody hell.”

“I’m sorry.” Looking up you were surprised to see the infamous Draco Malfoy.

“What-what are you doing on the girls dormitory floor?” You both bent down to pick up your stuff but once Draco handed you your book he grabbed your quill. He was the first to stand back up then lended a hand to help you up. Without hesitation you took it, and he helped you onto your feet. “Thanks, it’s seem quite the morning.” Draco let out a laugh and watched as your eyes landed onto your quill. Nervously, the platinum blonde grabbed his wand and pointed at the pen and whispered a spell.

Tears formed in your eyes as you saw the pink daisy. “Are you trying to joke with me Draco because it’s not funny.” Instantly the boy gapped and began to stutter making you push at his chest. “You saw the daisies or either heard about it from someone and thought that you could turn my pen into one pretending to be someone who might actually like me?” You pushed him again but Draco tried to grab your wrist but it didn’t work. “That’s low even for you Malfoy.” Quickly, you turned on your heel to flee from the boy but he grabbed your wrist.

“It was first year and you were talking with Hermione about how daisies were your favorite because that’s what your father gave your mother.” Hearing his words caused your heart to swell in your chest, and your eyes widen as you looked into his. “So I wanted you to know how I felt by giving you white daisies like your father.” He lifted the pink daisy and sighed. “I did it in secret because you make me nervous and I knew I would mess up.” You continued to stay quiet as you watched Draco put the flower behind his back and not even a second later he revealed a new set of a dozen white daisies. You smiled sweetly as you grasped them into your hands. “I like you Y/n Y/l/n.” A blush formed on both of your cheeks. “And I was wondering if you would company me on a date?”

You inched closer to the boy and stood on your tippy toes to press a kiss on his cheek. “I’m free tonight at 7.�� Collecting yourself you moved past the boy to start walking down the hall. “And Malfoy don’t be late.”

[joe-mazzello-archive]

Wait For It

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 7.1k (lol this was supposed to be a quick one)

Warnings: a bunch of people being super insecure, angst again (sorry gang), some sexy thoughts but no actual smut, cheating

A/N: sooooo i’ve been up in my hamilton feels as of late so this fic is the result of that. shoutout to my favorite bridge troll @brianmays-hair​ for the original prompt that inspired this plus letting me bounce ideas off of her when my brain can only form partial thoughts, ily babe. also, shoutout to my first gwil-centric fic! of course joe makes an appearance because i’m the worst. eventually i’ll write a fic that joe is not in lol. also, y’all may not like yourself in this one. sorry :(

(also i know everyone uses this gif, so sue me)

I look into your eyes and the sky’s the limit.

Joe had just…always been there. He was the friend who never strayed no matter how far apart you were. When your lives seemed determined to pull you in different directions, you didn’t let it. The two of you could go an entire year on separate sides of the country, but once reunited it was like you were never apart. You understood each other in a way that was hard to define. Your connection ran deep, deeper than any other connection you’d ever had with another person.

Falling in love with Joe Mazzello was hard.

It was hard because you didn’t want to. You didn’t want to complicate things or ruin the connection you had. Every urge to kiss him or hold his hand or pull him into your bed just frustrated you. How could your heart betray you like that? It set you up for failure. Every romantic prospect was subconsciously compared to Joe. They weren’t as funny as him, weren’t as charming as him, didn’t understand you as well as he did. It wasn’t fair to you or to Joe or to all of the people who tried to win you over. 

Every fantasy you had of Joe waking up one day and realizing you were the one for him was met with anger and frustration at yourself. His golden eyes, those eyes that held so much happiness and adoration inside of them, haunted you, slipping into your dreams at night, your thoughts during the day. You mentally punished yourself for feeling jealous of the girls that came and went from his life. He was your friend, but he wasn’t yours. And he never would be. You knew that. But your heart had other ideas.

And then came Gwilym.

You’d heard all about him from Joe, his excited texts about his newfound friendships with his castmates regaling story after story about the tall man. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t intrigued by Joe’s new friends, it had been awhile since you’d witnessed Joe have such deep connections with people that he had only known for a few months.

You were Joe’s “date” to a Bohemian Rhapsody screening in LA; his way of trying to make up for the months he spent away from you. You had been dragged to a hotel suite before the event, an apparent pre-party that the cast and production team would all be in attendance for. Ben was polite and reserved in his introduction, revealing he had looked forward to finally meeting his competition for the title of Joe’s Best Friend. You were unfazed, however; you knew that title would always belong to you.

Rami wrapped you up a big hug, insisting there would be less time between your next reunion. He promised a catch-up lunch date in the future, once things slowed down for him. You knew things would never slow down for such a powerhouse talent like Rami, but you appreciated the gesture. Lucy was a delight, greeting you like an old friend and grilling you for embarrassing stories about Joe she could hold over his head. You could see yourself finding a lifelong friend in the bubbly blonde.

And then Joe’s hand was on your shoulder, leading you to a familiar gentleman who towered above you, who’s piercing blue eyes gazed at you with a warmth that you hadn’t felt in ages.

Falling in love with Gwilym Lee was easy.

It was almost scary how easy it was. Everything about him brought you joy. His laugh, the way he’d stroke his own beard in thought, his ability to be a serious gentleman one second and a huge goofball the next. He let you ramble about whatever and listened intently with a huge smile on his face. He made you feel safe and completely seen; with one look, he communicated that yes, he saw you and he liked what he saw. Maybe even loved it.

There were times where you’d be in his arms and held you like you were going to disappear. Those were the nights you spent showering in him in affection. You wanted him to feel safe, feel seen, just like he always made you feel. You would touch him, caress him, take care of him, make him feel good, all while making sure he knew without a doubt that you weren’t going anywhere.

Gwil made you the happiest you’d been in a long time. You were able to love someone freely; no more punishing yourself. No more overthinking or doubting or hating. Because you realized one day that yes, you loved Joe Mazzello and you always would. But you were in love with Gwilym Lee.

It had been six months since your first meeting when the two of you sat on your couch in your apartment, him holding your hand in both of his, timidly stroking the soft skin with his thumb. His nervous demeanor had you worried for what felt like the first time since he came into your life. Had he seen through your confident facade? Had he realized that you were too much for him? Too loud, too intense? Loved him too hard, too fast?

“I know it’s only been half a year,” he admitted timidly. “But, I just...I feel like this is...this is real.” Your worried frown faded to a soft smile as he finally looked up from the floor, meeting your gaze. You could see everything he was feeling in his eyes. Anxiety, worry, yes. But also so much love. And all of a sudden, you knew exactly what he wanted to ask you. 

“And I want to nurture that,” he continued. “I want this to grow. And I understand if you think it’s too soon or even a ridiculous request--”

“Gwil, just ask me already.”

He took a big breath and squeezed your hand before speaking again.

“What do you think about coming to London? As in, moving to London. With me.”

You didn’t hesitate for a second. You didn’t have to. You knew the answer as soon as you figured out what the question was.

“Yes.”

His furrowed brow and distressed gaze melted away in relief and were replaced with watery eyes and that bright smile you knew and loved. He kissed you like he had just won the lottery, gripping you tight against him and pouring every emotion into the kiss. You kissed him back just as fiercely, the two of you communicating entirely by tasting each other.

When you pulled back for a moment to breathe, you didn’t go far, keeping your forehead pressed against his. His ocean blue eyes, those eyes that held so much promise and love inside of them, comforted you, ensuring you that you had found him, you’d found your person.

I’m down for the count and I’m drownin’ in ‘em.

◈◈◈

Love doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints, it takes and it takes and it takes.

It wasn’t love at first sight for Gwil. No, he was in love with you long before he met you. The stories Joe had told him about his best friend back home painted a picture of this extraordinary person with a big heart and a love to laugh. Gwil didn’t understand how he could be so attached to a person he hadn’t even laid eyes on yet.

He was embarrassed at how often he combed through your Instagram, scrolling through every picture of your bright smile, wanting nothing more than to be the one to cause it. He was so tempted to hit the follow button but worried it would be weird. Did you even know who he was? Had Joe told you about him? Or did you live in blissful ignorance of the man who pined after you from afar?

Gwil had come to terms with the fact that he’d probably never meet you. You lived back in LA, working as an interior designer. Your paths would never cross and Gwil accepted that. He assumed his oddly strong feelings towards you would fade over time. Once the shoot was done and Joe wasn’t around as much, the stories would stop. Gwil would move on.

And then suddenly you were standing right next to Joe, smack in front of Gwil, beaming up at him with that familiar smile, your hand outstretched.

“You must be Gwilym!”

You did know who he was. He wasn’t sure if that was worse.

You didn’t know how unfair he’d been to you. He had crafted this vision of you in his head comprised of anecdotes from Joe and the little bit of information he could discern from your social media. You were this perfect person in his mind that no one could ever live up to.

And then you surpassed that person in every way.

You were so beautiful. Gwil didn’t understand how you could be even more otherworldly in person. Your smile lit up his entire world, your eyes were an abyss he loved to get lost in. You floated through the world with an elegance Gwil thought only possible in dreams. And when he finally had you under him, your smooth skin beneath his fingertips, he was convinced you were an angel, an ethereal being sent from beyond. Gwilym Lee was in love with your body.

You were so smart. The ideas you had, the questions you asked, the challenges you threw at him always had Gwil so impressed with your intellect. You had the ability to think of things long before Gwil thought of them. You would spout out words of wisdom as though you had centuries of experience and knowledge. You could derive phrases that pulled at his heartstrings or sent the blood in his head down south. Gwil would watch you as you burrowed into the corner chair you’d claimed as your own during your first visit to his flat in London, clad in his own sweater, either reading from your stack of books or scribbling away in your own. Gwilym Lee was in love with your mind.

You were so loving. You cared deeply about your friends and family, going out of your way to make sure everyone in your life was taken care of. Your heart was so vast and had room for so many people that at first Gwil was worried he was misunderstanding the situation. Was the affection he received from you the same you gave to everyone else? Was he the only one to hold you like this or was he not alone? You had so much love to give, Gwil almost thought himself selfish for wanting you to himself. But you and your infinite wisdom and your big heart saw right through Gwil’s insecurities. You whispered words of tenderness into his ear, things he didn’t even know he needed to hear, and his doubts were sated once again. Gwil didn’t understand how he got so lucky, to be in your orbit, and to have your love shone upon him like the brightest star in the sky. You made Gwil love more freely, helped him tear down walls he had put up in his younger years when he had been used and abused and treated like nothing. How one person could come into his life and make it better in every single possible way, he would never comprehend. Gwilym Lee was in love with your heart.

Gwil realized these things only a few months after meeting you face to face. He was almost...ashamed at how hard and fast he fell for you. To him, his intense infatuation seemed almost childish, immature. It was too soon. There were too many things standing in the way, too much distance between you two. He was foolish, setting himself up for heartache. You had made it seem so easy, loving freely and fiercely, and Gwil had followed suit. But he knew from experience that it wasn’t realistic long-term. That intense love would burn out, becoming a black hole that would suck away the light from his entire world. You were too beautiful, too smart, too loving. It was too good to be true that Gwil would get to keep you. There were so many people out in the world that you deserved more, that deserved you more, and one day you would wake up and realize that. It wouldn’t be your fault, he would never hold it against you.

And he knew how it would happen. He knew who it would happen with. Gwil was doomed from the start, really. He would never be able to compete with what you had with Joe. The bonds you two shared ran deep, built upon years and years of being each other’s person to run back to, shoulder to cry on, friend to share a laugh with.

Gwil hated that he felt like he had to compete with Joe. He loved Joe and he loved you and he loved that the two of you loved each other. But he felt like he was running out of time. Especially being so far away from you most of the time. When a majority of your interactions took place over Facetime and text, and Gwil had to watch as you went out to lunch with Joe or went hiking with Joe or explored new bookstores with Joe, Gwil’s gut instinct was that his time with you was almost up.

So in a desperate attempt to save what he assumed was a doomed relationship, Gwil held your hands and asked you to move to London with him.

And you said yes. Without even blinking. And with a huge smile on your face.

The relief Gwil felt was unbelievable. He wasn’t crazy. He wasn’t in too deep. He was on equal ground. With that one word and your unwavering gaze, every insecurity Gwil had ever felt about you and your relationship vanished into thin air. You -- beautiful, smart, and loving you -- wanted to uproot your life and move to a different country to be with him.

How did he get so lucky?

It’s the thought that rang through his head every single day after that conversation. He thought it while he helped you with job and visa logistics. He thought it while he helped you set up listings for selling your apartment furniture. He thought it while you fell asleep with your head on his shoulder on the flight back to London. And he thought it while you whined out his name in bed the first night in your now shared flat.

That thought morphed and molded itself in Gwil’s head. He was lucky. He had somehow won the lottery on significant others and had gotten you. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it some days. Thoughts about what he had done to deserve you slowly turned into thoughts about whether or not he even deserved you in the first place. Had he accidentally tricked you? Plucked you out of a world you should have been in and forced you into one he selfishly wanted?

Suddenly it had been another six months. If you were miserable you seemed to hide it well, which Gwil could appreciate. He found himself wanting to ask you if you were happy, but he was afraid of the answer. He knew you would never lie to him. You never had before.

On days where he was home and you were working, he would sit in his office and mull it all over. He felt guilty that he constantly played mental gymnastics with himself, especially when you were always there for him to listen and love. Every other time he had an issue and he had gone to you about it, you listened with an open heart and a soft smile on your face. You didn’t even have to say much to fix the problem, you were magic in that way.

One late afternoon he found himself in his office once again, fidgeting with a small velvet box, passing it back and forth between his trembling hands. He had impulse-bought the ring months ago, when a walk downtown to buy your birthday present had inadvertently led him to a jeweler. He had told himself that the second he was one hundred percent certain everything between you two wasn’t an elaborate joke or fantasy, he’d pull out the box and get down on one knee. But Gwil’s constant plaguing thoughts made him feel like that day would never come. Who was he to ask you to be with him forever?

So when you appeared in the doorway with a bag from his favorite takeaway place, intent on surprising him with being home from work early, Gwil could feel nothing but sheer panic. And that panic increased tenfold when your eyes fell to the velvet box in his lap.

He watched, paralyzed with fear as your own eyes grew large, your jaw dropping open slightly when your words trailed off. It was not the reaction he would have ever wanted. Clearly you were scared, thrown off by even the concept of marrying him.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, and Gwil could feel his heart shatter into thousands of pieces.

But then you threw your hand over your eyes, and Gwil thought he was going insane because were you smiling?

“I promise I didn’t see anything!”

Absolutely bewildered, Gwil stood to his full height and crossed the room, gently pulling your hand away from your face.

“Let’s say you did see something,” he said, his voice small. “Is that something...something that would make you happy?” Gwil wasn’t sure if his heart could take another drop on the emotional roller coaster, but it was better he found out now than let that question slowly pick him apart.

And then you brought his hand to your lips, placing the softest of kisses to his knuckles. Your eyes began to water as you looked at him like no one had before.

“It would make me the happiest person on the entire planet.”

Your magic cured him once again. One sentence and the relief flooded Gwil’s veins. He then slowly got to his knee, never letting go of your hand the entire time. With a shaky voice, he spoke your name.

“Will you marry me?”

Time seemed to stop for Gwil, but you didn’t hesitate for a second. You didn’t have to. You knew the answer as soon as you had laid eyes on that little box.

“Yes.”

The two of you shared a watery laugh as he slid the ring on your finger. You held each other as you cried and kissed and kissed and cried. Gwil had never been happier in his entire life. You wanted him. Forever.

And when the tears stopped and the two of you finally sat down to eat the nearly forgotten takeaway, you pulled out your phone and announced that you had to call Joe. Because he had to be the first to know.

An hour before, that would have given Gwil a twinge of worry. Worry that even though you had a ring on your finger, Joe was still more important than him.

But that worry didn’t come. And that worry never came again. You had chosen him, and for the first time, Gwil knew, without a doubt, that that would never change.

If there's a reason I'm by her side when so many have tried, then I'm willing to wait for it.

◈◈◈

I don't know how to say no to this, but this situation is helpless.

You hadn’t thought twice when Joe invited you out to LA for a weekend to hang out. You hadn’t seen him in person since before moving to London, and you were both itching for a reunion that wasn’t held via Facetime or Zoom.

Gwil had almost insisted on it. He’d be away on a shoot for a few weeks and he hated the idea of you being by yourself the entire time. He could also tell you were a bit overwhelmed with wedding planning. You needed a break. And you both knew that even though Joe would be in the wedding as a groomsman, you probably wouldn’t get to spend too much time with him at the event itself considering you’d have to try and make time for the over two hundred guests that would be in attendance.

As you settled into your plane seat, a thought occurred to you that had you concerned about your trip for the first time. It was true that as your relationship with Gwil had blossomed, your friendship with Joe had faded a bit. You weren’t sure if it was subconscious or completely by accident. Throwing yourself head first into your budding romance with Gwil had offered a break from the constant pain of having fallen for Joe. So had you unintentionally pulled away from Joe, channeling all of your energy into what was a new and exciting distraction? Possibly.

But truly, it was the distance. You’d been in London for almost a full year, and between your schedule and his, you hadn’t seen each other since before the move. Time between text conversations and Facetime calls grew and grew. 

You’d been separated for long periods of time before and yet things had never changed. And even now, you still considered him your best friend. But there was that little bit of fear that things would be different this time. You wouldn’t be able to just pick right up where you left off.

But your fears were put to rest as soon as he wrapped his arms around you again. It was like the past year hadn’t even happened. Your Joe was in front of you, in the flesh, and everything felt right again. You joked and laughed and sang the entire drive from the airport to his house. You spent the evening catching each other up on everything the other had missed. You told him about work and new friends and places you’d seen and English slang you’d picked up. He filled you in on his latest projects, told you stories about mutual friends you hadn’t seen in ages, and as always, had you laughing until your sides hurt.

It wasn’t until you were settled in his guest room bed later that night that you realized he hadn’t once asked about Gwil or the wedding.

You spent the next day being paraded around LA by Joe, the two of you hitting all of the cheesy tourist spots that you hadn’t been to in years before eventually heading to the beach. As the pair of you stretched out on towels in the sand while soaking up the sun, you remembered the thought you had the night before.

So you took it upon yourself to introduce the topic.

“Oh, Gwil sends his love, by the way,” you casually said, as if you had just thought of it. Joe offered a small smile and nodded, his only acknowledgement of your statement before jumping to his feet.

“Let’s go in the water!”

You were temporarily distracted by an intense water war with Joe once the two of you made it chest-deep into the ocean. Joe then launched into an elaborate tale about going to the beaches on the east coast growing up, making you laugh with an imitation of his brother, whom you hadn’t seen in ages but had recently RSVPed yes to your nuptials.

“I’m excited to see him again at the wedding,” you revealed, testing your developing theory about Joe once again. “I can’t even remember the last time I saw him.”

“Yeah,” was all Joe said before diving under the water and grabbing at your ankle, earning a squeal from you.

Another attempt foiled. You were pretty sure he was avoiding the topic outright.

You didn’t understand why. Gwil was one of his closest friends. You knew the two chatted frequently, probably more frequently than you and him. For a brief moment you entertained the idea that Joe was actually more upset by you living so far away than he had let on previously. You remembered being surprised at Joe’s reaction to you moving to London. You had invited him out for lunch one day to break the news, and while he claimed he was going to miss you something fierce, he was happy for you. At least that was what you had left that lunch feeling.

Maybe Joe was an even better actor than you realized.

You had to get some answers out of him. It started to get bizarre, the lengths he would go to in order to avoid talking about Gwil or the wedding. And although you had had an incredibly fun and relaxing weekend with your old friend, one that you had desperately needed, by Sunday night a weird tension had set in. Joe definitely knew you were on to him; you could tell by how little effort he started putting into trying to change the subject.

So you decided you had had enough. If he wasn’t going to be outright with you, you needed to confront him. You had disappeared into the guest room after Joe had cooked the two of you dinner with the excuse that you wanted to make sure your bag was packed for your early flight home the next morning. Sure, there was some truth to that, but you also needed the time to compose your thoughts before challenging Joe.

You walked warily back into the living room where Joe had pulled up some Netflix movie and had it paused while he tapped away at his phone, clearly waiting for you.

“Can I ask you something?” you hesitantly questioned as you took a seat next to Joe.

“Anything,” he replied as his attention left his phone and turned to you, a confident smile on his face.

“Why haven’t you asked about Gwil or the wedding?”

You could practically see the blood drain from Joe’s face. His smile was exchanged for a look of what seemed almost like...fear. After a few seconds of silence indicating that he wasn’t going to answer you right away, you continued.

“Every time I mention Gwil or the wedding, you find some excuse to change the subject or use something to distract me. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. I know you too well,” you explained with a soft smile, attempting to lighten the mood, an endeavour you quickly realized was fruitless. Joe was staring intently at his lap, and you could hear the gears turning in his head. Joe always had a tendency to think really loudly.

“Joe?”

“I thought I was over it,” he suddenly spit out. You furrowed your brows. When he didn’t continue, you spoke up again.

“Over what? Me moving away?”

“I thought I was over you,” he admitted, finally looking up at you with those golden eyes you’ve always known. Those eyes that had once haunted you, slipping into your dreams at night, your thoughts during the day. Those eyes that you hadn’t worried about in over a year.

You were stunned to silence.

“I...lost my chance with you,” he continued. “It sounds so fucking cliche but I didn’t realize what I had until it was gone. It took you moving to London for me to realize that I’ve been in love with you for a long, long time.”

It was like every emotion you could possibly feel overtook your body in one fell swoop. How were you supposed to process something like that? You were shocked, confused, and a little bit sad, but most of all, you were fucking livid.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you practically shouted as you jumped to your feet, earning a startled wince from Joe. “I pined after you for years. I had it so bad for you for so long. And now? When I’ve finally gotten over you....and I’m happy with someone else...you have the fucking nerve to drop that on me?” You were frantic, thoughts running wild, your heart pounding. You marched into the kitchen, needing some space to collect yourself. You could feel tears pricking your eyes as you sat at Joe’s kitchen island.

“You pined after me?” Joe’s quiet voice sounded from the doorway. You frustratedly swiped at the drops running down your cheeks before turning to look at Joe. 

“I always loved you, you asshole,” you revealed before burying your face in your hands. How could he do this to you? You were months away from getting married, to one of his closest friends no less, and he chose now to confess that he was in love with you.

At least you had gotten the answer to your original question.

“I’m such an idiot,” you heard Joe whisper. “I could have had you all this time.”

After a few moments, you felt two tentative arms wrap around you from behind. Joe laid his head against your back.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured against the fabric of your t-shirt. “Please don’t cry.”

You were so angry with him. So angry at the situation. But he was still Joe. And part of you still loved him, even though that love had changed over the past year or so. So you turned into his embrace, wrapping your arms around him. You lost track of how long the two of you stayed there, holding each other while time ticked away.

Eventually Joe pulled back for a moment before cradling your face in his hands. His thumbs wiped away the last of your tears as the two of you gazed at each other.

And then Joe was kissing you.

It was brief, almost as if he had done it accidentally. A flash of fear shone in his eyes and you knew you probably mirrored him. But then he was kissing you again.

And you were kissing him back.

For years you had wondered what it would be like to kiss Joe Mazzello. And now, there you were, his lips as soft as you thought they’d be. He tasted like wine and pasta sauce and something else that was uniquely Joe. His hands on your face kept you close to him as his mouth moved against yours. 

He pulled back to take a breath, his hands sliding down to your hips, his forehead pressed against yours. You needed to push him away. You needed to stop this.

“You can say no to this. Just tell me to stop.”

You didn’t.

That night you lived out a fantasy that you had used to have for years but hadn’t thought about in ages. That night you explored Joe’s body as he explored yours, touching, tasting, feeling. No words were exchanged, the only sounds that rang out through Joe’s bedroom were soft whimpers and grunts of pleasure.

When you left the bed to use the restroom, the tears came back. You had been stupid, acting on selfish impulses. Acting on a lingering curiosity. Taking advantage of a situation you had been presented with.

Joe let you cry in his bathroom, and you mentally thanked him for knowing not to bother you.

When you finally emerged, Joe appeared to be asleep. You didn’t stop to find out for sure. Instead you moved across the hall into the guest room. You held a pillow to your chest and tearfully wished you had never come to LA.

You didn’t get much sleep. You were up at least an hour before you had to be, getting dressed and cooking the two of you a quick breakfast. When Joe finally appeared in the kitchen, he silently picked at his plate of eggs and bacon. No words were spoken. Nothing needed to be said. That was the thing about knowing someone so well.

The drive to the airport was soundtracked by a playlist of rock medleys that normally both you and Joe would sing along to. But no songs were sung on that trip.

After helping you pull your suitcase out of the back of your car, Joe stood there awkwardly wringing his hands together. You didn’t blame him for not knowing what was appropriate. You didn’t know where the boundaries laid anymore either.

So you threw him a bone, pulling him into a tight embrace, one that he immediately reciprocated. For some reason, even though you’d be seeing him again in a few months, it felt like a forever goodbye. Like it was the last time you would ever hold each other.

“I will always love you,” you whispered as you buried your face in his shoulder. “But I’m in love with Gwil.” It was true. And you hated that you needed to say it out loud.

You felt him nod into your hair. He understood.

You left him with a peck on the cheek, and got on your plane. And you spent the ten hour flight mentally preparing to banish the entire weekend from your memory. Gwil could never find out.

And he never did.

Nobody needs to know.

◈◈◈

I remember that night, I just might regret that night for the rest of my days.

Joe stood between Ben and Gwil’s brother, clad in a gray suit with a colorful pocket square. He watched as you floated down the aisle looking the most beautiful he’d ever seen you, a stunning vision accoutred in white.

But the most gorgeous thing about you wasn’t your dress or your hair or your makeup, as perfect as it all was. No, the thing that stood out to Joe was the look of pure elation that you wore as you made your way between the rows of chairs. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen you so sublimely happy.

And it pained him. Because it was a subtle reminder that he’d never be the one to make you that happy.

Joe stole a glance at Gwil, and he had the exact same gaze upon his face. Joe felt a twinge of guilt in his gut. He should be happy. He should be satisfied. Two of the most important people in his life had found love with each other. That was something to celebrate. So Joe hated that he felt nothing but sadness. It was selfish and unfair to the both of you.

But the thing Joe hated the most was that this whole thing was all his fault.

He remembered the day he introduced you to Gwil like it was yesterday. What was supposed to be a night out with you after being separated for so long turned into Joe playing third wheel as he watched you and Gwil bond. The connection was instantaneous.

It didn’t bother Joe at all at first. In fact, he was ecstatic. He patted himself on the back whenever he could, taking complete credit for your budding romance. You seemed lighter, as if Gwil had taken the weight of the world off your shoulders. And Joe trusted the both of you not to break each others’ hearts; he knew you were amazing people, and he believed you deserved each other.

It was only a month before Joe started to notice the drift. You texted him less, you didn’t have as much free time to hang out. Things you used to do with him you now did with Gwil. Joe tried not to let it get to him. He had never been bothered by relationships you had been in previously. But there was something about this time around that irked him.

At first he assumed it was because it was Gwil. Two of his friends had essentially ganged up on him, opting to spend more time with each other than with him. But that wasn’t it.

Then he thought it was because you went to London a lot. It seemed like every time Joe tried to make plans with you he was met with a “I’ll actually be in London that week.” But that wasn’t it.

For a fleeting moment he thought it was a worry that the two of you were moving too quickly. A fear that the pair of you would have an ugly break up and Joe would be caught in the middle of it. But that wasn’t it.

It took almost six months of you and Gwil together for him to realize that he was head over heels in love with you.

How could he have been so stupid? You had been right there in front of him for years and years and it took you getting into a serious relationship for him to wake up. He had wasted so much time.

Gwil was one of his best friends in the entire world. But you had been his best friend longer. He needed to tell you. He couldn’t lie to you.

As soon as Joe had made the decision, you were asking him to grab lunch with you. He spent the hours leading up to it pacing in his apartment, working through a speech in his head.

His plan was foiled when you sat across from him in the ramen shop and announced you were moving to London. You were elated as you told him the story of Gwil nervously asking you. Joe put his acting skills to the test as he sat in that booth for an hour and pretended to be happy for you. Pretended that he was okay when truly he was dying inside.

The last shred of hope Joe could hold on to was that he’d be able to get over you easier. The distance would ease his pain. Maybe he’d meet someone, someone who would somehow be even more beautiful and smarter and more loving than you. He didn’t think that person existed, but he had to hold out hope.

He threw himself into work, trying to distract himself with jobs, filling the time between those jobs by writing, something you always helped him with. You had been his muse, a revelation that frustrated Joe as he struggled with the worst case of writer’s block he’d ever had.

He understood that your lives had been pulled in different directions, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt when the periods between conversations and phone calls got longer and longer as time went on. He missed you. Setting all of his romantic feelings aside, he simply missed his best friend.

He was curled up in front of the TV watching some dumb video Ben had sent him when your name flashed across his phone screen. He couldn’t have been more relieved to see your face. You greeted him with a huge grin and an excited air about you.

And then you revealed the true intention of your call with a flash of a diamond ring on your finger.

Gwil’s face appeared a few moments later, asking Joe to be one of his groomsmen. Of course Joe agreed, he’d do anything for Gwil. Even be a groomsman in his wedding to the woman he loved.

He told himself that he’d be over you by the time the wedding came. He had to be. He just had to.

He didn’t know what came over him when he asked you to come visit him for a weekend. He just missed you. He missed you like crazy and he needed you. He needed his best friend, his person.

The days leading up to your arrival were spent stress-cleaning his entire apartment. He was terrified things would be weird. Why couldn’t everything just be like it was before? Before he ever introduced you to Gwilym. If he hadn’t brought you to the screening that night would you and him ever met? Would Joe have at some point realized his feelings while you were still available? Was there an alternate universe where you and him Facetimed Gwil to show off the ring on your finger?

Then Joe blinked and you were in his arms once more. He held you tight, never wanting to let you go. He focused on making sure that the weekend was chock-full of activities, wanting to enjoy the little time he had left with you. Joe was no idiot, he was never going to get a chance to spend a weekend just the two of you ever again.

But why did you have to keep bringing up Gwil and the wedding? He was getting worse and worse at avoiding the subject. He knew you were on to him. There were only so many times he could change conversation topics abruptly before you would notice. You were no idiot either.

And then you sat on his couch on that last night and asked him point blank. He knew he couldn’t lie to you anymore. He wasn’t strong enough.

He hadn’t seen you that angry in years. The last time you’d yelled at him like that was when he spilled coffee on a brand new rug you’d splurged on for your apartment. But this problem couldn’t be fixed with an apology cake and a surprise trip to Restoration Hardware on Joe’s dime.

And then Joe blinked once more and you were in his bed, bare and writhing underneath him. He knew as it was happening that you hadn’t suddenly changed your mind. He didn’t get to call you his. There was still a ring on your finger when your hand gripped Joe’s bicep. He simply enjoyed the moment as much as he could. His heart was breaking as you both rode out waves of pleasure, a desperate exchange of affection that shouldn’t have ever happened. Once again, it was all his fault. He shouldn’t have kissed you. And he shouldn’t have made it your responsibility to put an end to it.

That fateful weekend didn’t happen. Not as far as you and Joe were concerned. You wordlessly agreed to never speak about it ever again. He knew you never told Gwil. If you had, none of you would have been standing in a beautiful field somewhere in Wales, all dressed up and celebrating the union of two of Joe’s favorite people in the world.

While Joe watched the pair of you share your first dance, he sipped at his flute of champagne and remembered what you whispered to him at the airport, words that would forever haunt him.

I will always love you, but I’m in love with Gwil.

He wondered if anyone would ever notice that the two of you didn’t talk to each other anymore, outside of group settings. If anyone did, they didn’t ask. Maybe they all knew. Maybe all of them had figured out Joe’s feelings for you before he ever had. And maybe Joe wasn’t as good of an actor as he realized.

And I know she’ll be happy as his bride. And I know I will never be satisfied.

◈◈◈

Perm Taglist: @queenlover05​ @mrhoemazzello​ @johndeaconshands​ @madamsledge​ @sadhwstudent​ @stardust-galaxies​ (let me know if i missed you)

[wangxiandecoded]

Episode 5

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(Spoilers for the whole show ahead!)

Episode 5 is chock full of moments and fun romantic tropes that make it hard to believe this show passed the censorship. 

Wei Ying has already taken Lan Zhan as his soulmate of many lifetimes and started confiding secrets in him. He gets dragged away to copy all the rules he broke but it’s ok Wei Ying, Lan Zhan has to notice the undeniable chemistry you share at some point.  

The Yiling Patriarch Invented Gay Pining 

The sheer amount of pining in this scene.. How did he not burn a hole through the library?

Guy takes a break from admiring the beauty of his crush, starts admiring his calligraphy instead.

The Many Names Wei Ying Calls Him

Calling your beloved by his every name to get his attention. Success! He responds to the name with intimate connotations. But oh no! He actually looked at you! What do you do now? Head empty. Quick! Ask him why he’s ignoring you and subtly remind him that he has the right to express his anger by using your formal name for completely logical reasons. 

I understand Wei Ying's feelings, it must be maddening to meet the love of your life and want to skip to the domestic stages of romance, when he still considers you an unruly stranger who has no business with him.

Can we take a second to appreciate what a pure soul Wei Ying is for wanting to constantly do better and learn what he did for Lan Zhan to hate him so much? He apologizes not once but repeatedly for breaking the rules and assures Lan Zhan he would never attack him with the intention to harm. (Wei Ying sweetie, you did nothing wrong, he just isn't ready to admit you're melting his heart.) 

All he wants is your attention. Just spare him some him, Lan Zhan! I have no clue how someone can say no to Wei Ying when he’s being this cute. Lan Zhan’s self-restraint must really be something else.

This line and Wei Ying's gay ass smile is so damning. I do not know how some Chinese censor officials did not have conniptions over this.. were they too blinded by heteronormativity, perhaps? Even Lan Zhan has had enough and charms him into silence.

Looking At Him When He’s Not Looking

Looking at your bro when you think he isn't aware you're looking at him, but he's actually painting a portrait of you when you aren't looking at him. I’m done with these idiots.

Wei Ying's heartfelt apology is obvious to us but Lan Zhan's definition of sincerity is abiding by the rules, which Wei Ying gives into for him, with a lot of effort. If that’s not love, what is? 

More pining. Wei Ying makes one last attempt at wooing Lan Zhan for the day by giving him a parting gift. (For what exactly? Monitoring him while he carried out his punishment? Love is so irrational, y’all.)

The last touch he gives to Lan Zhan's portrait is adding a flower to his forehead ribbon. This is how Wei Ying really sees Lan Zhan - not as the intimidating Lan Wangji from Gusu Lan clan, but the guy he finds cute when he's lost in concentration. It pains me to see Wei Ying do so much to win his heart.

Lan Zhan Thinks Everything Wei Ying Does Is “Boring”

Wei Ying asks him to say something other than “boring” for a change and this is his reply. What makes their relationship so captivating is their contrasting personalities. Every time Lan Zhan thinks Wei Ying is being ridiculous and goes, “Boring,” I think he actually finds Wei Ying kind of amazing and that’s annoying because it is nothing but a hindrance to the way of life expected from him. It is boring and ridiculous to Lan Zhan that he is starting to get used to Wei Ying’s presence in his life. It is boring that he’s beginning to notice and personally care for a single person instead of the world. It is boring how someone is breaking the seamless silence Lan Zhan has spent most his life wrapped up in and suddenly making it overflow with words - words he does not vocalize but Wei Ying hears anyway. That’s what finding the right person feels like, after all. So it is boring that Wei Ying, with his stupid grin, is so close to coming into his life, throwing out the worldly matters Lan Zhan is supposed to be devoted to and asking him, “Lan Zhan, isn’t it funny that I’m your worldly matter now?” 

I guess Wei Ying does get his wish in the end. Lan Zhan erupts and calls him "Wei Ying" for the first time ever because he made him open an erotic book, more specifically one that features explicit gay art. The production team is so slick, I felt giddy the first time I saw this. But still, I don’t think Lan Zhan was being fair, I’m sure he broke a rule that said it’s a great offense to reject someone’s gift. 

Lan Zhan strikes me as a closeted baby gay raised on ascetic principles, and Wei Ying’s confident chaotic bi energy is predictably sending his poor world for a toss. No wonder he was ready to duel it out with him. What are the implications of this, Wei Ying? You showed a Lan clan member gay erotic art and assured him there is absolutely nothing wrong in enjoying it. Do you want to kill him? 

And remember Wei Ying got this book from Nie Huaisang who has also been queer-coded. After a point, you lose sight of how many characters seem hella gay on this show.

Nonetheless, it is impressive that there is someone who can make the disciplined, detached Hanguang-Jun lose his calm and even get him to swear. Of course it ends up being something for Wei Ying to brag about later. It is indeed an accomplishment that few people can claim as their own.

Can We Buy An Island For Our President Zewu Jun?

Zewu Jun is not even being subtle here. Why is he smiling? Seriously, why?! The fact that his brother called this guy by his formal name which can be used only by people you're close to? The fact that he followed Wei Ying to the secluded part of the Cloud Recesses? Or because he was unable to find the real person since he's fixated on Wei Ying? Knowing our President, it's probably all of the above.

The show's clever usage of Zewu Jun as the emotional compass who points precisely to what Lan Zhan feels is definitely one of my favorite things. We see that Lan Zhan often says one thing about Wei Ying but means another and Zewu Jun is the stand-in for the audience who knows the truth.

We can see the contrast of a speechless Lan Zhan when Zewu Jun confronts him about wanting Wei Ying's company versus the facade he puts on when actually in Wei Ying's company. That's it for today's analysis, folks.

The Aqua Demon Hunt Is The First Testament To Their Chemistry

Wangxian end up sharing a room. (Do we have the President to thank for that?) Lan Zhan being all "Time for me to go meditate in solitude" and Wei Ying being ".... about how we belong together!"

Rewatching these scenes is definitely bad for my heart. The unconcealed disappointment on Wei Ying's face when Lan Zhan turns down his bet to prove their like-mindedness really sends. (Is this the ancient equivalent of a love calculator, Wei Ying? How did the Yiling Patriarch never invent a device like that, I wonder.)

Lan Zhan, did he really deserve this? He just wants to show you what an incredible, unmatchable team you both will make! And he is so good at reading your mind.

Just smiling at the fact that your bro exists for no apparent reason in middle of a hunt. Wei Ying sure has his priorities straight, even if nothing else in his life is.

Wangxian Are The Dream Team

Wei Ying distracting the water ghost and saving Lan Zhan at the same time so effortlessly? A stroke of admirable genius! I probably need to start a separate post to keep track of all the times Wangxian's teamwork puts everyone else to shame. Notice how every time Lan Zhan said "boring" in this episode, it was directed only at Wei Ying’s romantic gestures. 

It's that little shoulder bump that screams "I'm sorry I splashed water at you, I did out of my love for you, okay?"

I'm sorry Wei Ying, he just needs more time to process the fact that you are the unrivalled candidate for a cultivation partner he has ever come across. And if you ever get confused why Zewu Jun is mysteriously smiling at various points in the show, it's probably a "My brother is falling in love, good for him, good for him" smile.

Wei Ying’s little head tilt after they both defeat the water ghost that came for their boat that says, “See? We belong together.” 

When Lan Zhan learns why Suibian is called so and thinks, "My crush is a fucking idiot, love that for me.“ 

Wei Ying always understands what Lan Zhan is thinking or wants to say without him having said a word. Soulmates.

Thank you water ghosts for ensuring they both end up on the same boat and giving them the chance to display their spectacular synchronization. Maybe it’ll help Lan Zhan wake up.

I rejoice every time there is a juxtaposition of Wangxian with the straight couples because it proves our main characters are travelling the same romantic arc the others are.

Saving Him For The First Time

Lan Zhan rescues Wei Ying in the nick of time! Sure, that’s the Right Thing to do but do you see his expression? That’s unbridled shock that Wei Ying is going to die. And the matter of utmost importance to Wei Ying in this life-or-death situation is the fact that Lan Zhan isn't holding his hand after the "intimate" experiences they’ve shared. I cannot.

Ok Lan Zhan.. You don't touch people.. Let’s see who the exception is. But honestly we get it, just swooping in to save him was a lot to handle, holding his hand would have been a gay apocalypse on your heart.

Wei Ying Is Growing On Lan Zhan

Lan Zhan finally admits Wei Ying could be right, because annoying as he is, his deductions are brilliant. 

We learn Lan Zhan is secretly craving loqauts but throws it back when Wei Ying gives him one. Zewu Jun offers to buy loquats for Lan Zhan, again hinting at his repressed feelings for Wei Ying. 

When we hear a vendor selling Emperor's Smile, do we see Lan Zhan's anti-Wei Ying persona begin to crack or am I seeing things? 

The episode ends with someone (Wei Ying) taking two bottles of Emperor's Smile and paying for it. Whatever happens, Wei Ying is going to sneak his misconduct into the Cloud Recesses and his way into Lan Zhan’s unfaltering heart.

All in all, this was an episode that opened the possibility of Lan Zhan maybe starting to accept that Wei Ying is a nuisance he likes having around. At the very least, he wants to live in a world where Wei Ying is alive and being his unbelievable self. He’s a man of few words and many micro expressions so that’s why it’s so golden on the rare occasions he does slip up and show that he cares about Wei Ying, like saving him in this episode. His actions speak louder than his words, and they ring louder still as show progresses and he becomes the main line of defense between Wei Ying and anyone who so much as thinks about harming him.

Episode 5 drives it home that Wangxian have chemistry that is to be envied and worth investing in. We get the sense that these two are going to be together for a long ass time.

[littlenerdgirl16]

Confusing Times (Part 2)

Here’s to Part 2! Hope y’all like this little series :) 

Warnings: fluff, angst, implied slight smut 

Word count: 1798

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Previously:  I stuttered out a few words but nothing coherent. Looking down, I tried again to say what was feeling for him. He placed his hand under my chin, guiding me to look at him, “Are you ok Y/N ? What’s going on?”

I started to open my mouth, but my hands got shaky and I couldn’t come up with anything. He just waited for me to say what was on my mind. A minute passed and I finally said what I had in mind. 

“I-I’m in love... with you.” 

He stared at me for a second, replaying what I had just said to him. He eventually nodded his head and gave me a big hug. For about 5 minutes, I was trying to comprehend what I had just confessed to my best friend. 

Feeling his warm aura around me, I could’ve stood there all night and feel like it wasn’t enough time with him. That’s when I really knew how deep I was. I eventually untangled myself and asked, “So...what are your thoughts.”

He thought for a second, “I don’t see you any differently. I still want to talk to you and laugh with you. You are the closest friend I have and I wouldn’t want it any other way.” Content with the answer, we continued our hour-long walk before heading back to the compound. 

Because of his reaction, I decided that I couldn’t say I love you to him. That isn’t fair to him. He wasn’t in love with me and I knew that. I decided to say things like “Have fun!’ or “Be safe”. That became my way of telling him “I love you” without him knowing. That went on for months. Unfortunately, we drifted apart due to his obnoxious, new girlfriend.

He had found someone to love and it wasn’t me. Watching him with this girl wasn't so bad after I changed the way I looked at her. Instead of seeing an evil witch, I tried to see what Bucky saw in her. Eventually, I tolerated her presence in the compound. I spent a lot of time on my college work and helping out Steve, my dad, with random things around the place. I hung out with Wanda a little bit and kind of got to know Clint. 

Over the Christmas holiday, we reconnected and I had the time of my life! He broke up with the girl and I got to talk to my best friend again. He explained how much he missed me and wanted to hang out with me. We spent every waking hour with each other since he came back to me. 

When the day was over we made a habit of finding each other to talk about our days and plans for the next. I walked into his room, hoping he’d be there. Luckily, he was! He ran over to me, picked me up, and swung me around. We laughed and talked the entire time we were together. 

Sometimes I would stay the night in his room because neither of us wanted to leave the other. I would stay and we would cuddle all night. One night, we were cuddling like we normally do till I had fallen asleep in his strong arms. Way into the night, I scared myself awake due to a nightmare. Unfortunately, my constant twitching had kept Bucky awake.

“Hey! Hey! Y/N  wake up.” Bucky held my arms down and calmly talked to me. “Doll. Wake up. Listen to my voice. I need you to come back to me.” 

I settled down and my eyes snapped open. I looked at him as he hovered over me, noticing him, pinning my arms down. I closed my eyes and tried to relax. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” I choked out, trying to suppress my tears. Bucky let go of my arms, “I get nightmares too.” 

He snuggled closer to me, burying his nose in the crook of my neck. I was confused, “You do? How come I’ve never heard you?” He looks down as he replies. “When I’m not with you, I sleep downstairs. I don’t like to wake anyone up.” I nodded and smiled. “Thanks for telling me.” 

I positioned myself on his chest with my head above his heart. He smiled and squeezed me tight. “Don’t feel bad for having them.” He whispers. “I’m here for you.”

 He kissed my forehead, the tip of my nose and trialed down to my cheek. Blood rushed into my cheeks as he kissed them. 

“Y/N?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Can I kiss you?”

Oh, how I have waited so long for that question.

I raised my head, nodded and he raised his head to kiss me. That was one of the best kisses I have ever had. It wasn’t hungry, or needy. He was sweet and attentive towards me. I kissed him again and he hummed a little. We looked at each other for a minute, trying to comprehend what happened. As I looked at him I realized I could stare at his bright, crystal clear blue eyes forever. I could see us being happy in the long run.

 Unfortunately, I couldn’t stare at his eyes any longer. Sleep was winning the battle I desperately wanted to avoid  “I think we should sleep. We have work and school tomorrow.” I laid my head back on his chest, listening to his breathing. “Unfortunately.” He sighed. 

I fell asleep soon after, dreaming of our kiss and how wonderfully our friendship is going. I wasn’t entirely sure if we were dating or not but that was a question for later. Now, I’m going to enjoy every second with him. 

Feeling like Bucky ’s girl was the happiest I’ve ever been. The next week, I found Bucky  in the main room on the couch reading a book. I sauntered over to him and plopped on the spot next to him. “Hey, Bucky . I-I was just wondering if th-the kisses meant something.” I fiddled with my hands waiting for his answer. He looked at me with love as he pondered my questions. 

The longer he took to answer, the more I realized his love for me was platonic. I looked at him still waiting for his answer but it came too late. The affirmation that I was craving from him didn’t come. “Y/N …” 

I concluded that I was just someone to kiss and love on; never his top priority. I looked away and nodded. I got up, turned around, and went to find my dad, leaving Bucky  alone with his book. 

I knocked on Steve’s door. “Come in!” He shouted from his bathroom. I walked in and closed the door behind me. Flopping on his bed, Steve poked his head around the corner seeing his daughter face down. “Are you ok?” 

No response. “Peanut?” Worry laced his voice. He walked over and sat on the bed next to me, rubbing my back. “What happened?”

I lifted my head to face my dad. “I realized that I was in love with Bucky but he didn’t like me that way.” I started to feel the tears build up and face planted back on the bed, letting them go. Steve heard me sob but didn’t say anything. Like a good father, he grabbed me, pulled me into his chest, and just sat there. After a few minutes went by, he kissed my forehead and whispered, 

“Do you want me to listen or give advice?” 

“Advice, please,” I whispered. Steve nodded and looked up. “Ok, here’s some advice. I think you should learn to be ok with what happened, find a new hobby and ask someone on a date. You don’t have to do it all at once, but when you feel ready, go step by step, ok?” 

Everything he said was right and it sounded logical to me so I agreed, “Ok, Dad. Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too, peanut.” 

I smiled at Steve as I got up to leave his room. I went up to my room wanting to be alone for a few minutes. Being there, I was able to be by myself with little to no interruptions. I say little interruptions because the one person I didn’t want to see, was my best friend. The one person who would stop by every night before bed, or when he thought I would need someone to talk to. 

I did the same with him, but I intended to chat about our days, not make out like Bucky  likes to do. It’s not that he doesn’t want to chat, he’s just not super good at it. He prefers kissing and touching each other. For some reason, I still let him do those things with me. Even though it hurts, it was a way that I could spend some time with him. No other distractions. 

It was a few days before I was able to be ok with leaving my room. Nat would come by and Steve would stop by to see if I needed anything. It was nice to have them check up on me. The only problem I had was that I wanted so badly to see Bucky come in and tell me he was wrong and that he truly loved me. That he wanted to be mine. 

I tried distracting myself by coloring, or learning the guitar but all I could do was think about how stupid I was for loving someone I had no chance with. Anytime I was with Bucky , I longed for his touch. I was safe in his arms. When we would stay the night with each other, I couldn’t help but think about how loved he made me feel. His touch made me feel safe, his voice was soothing; almost melodic.

It hurt emotionally anytime he got close to me after the incident in the main room. My body would have a physical reaction when I would even think about his loving touch. I wanted to crawl away and disappear. I wanted to stop feeling. There was one solution that I came up with and that was my very own music.

I got up to go find the piano in the music room on the main floor and composed a new song. It was about 11 p.m. when I snuck out. I wanted to be out of my room before Bucky tried to come over. 

As I approached the grand piano, I remembered the first song I learned. Thanks to Steve, I was able to read notes and find them on the keys. From there, I took off on my own. Being able to play and compose was one of my few passions. I was able to escape the harsh reality and create my world. I sat down, pulled open the cover, and pressed the ivory keys to create a new melody. The chords that I played sounded full but inside,  it was an empty melody. There was never enough sound to fill in the room and get rid of the emotions I was feeling.

---Bucky’ POV---

Dear journal, 

[zankivich]

The Arrangement: CEO’s Son/Dom!Shawn x Black Sub Reader Chapter 17

a/n: this is it y’all. And what a ride it’s been. With all the shit in the world, and the shit that’s gone down in the fandom, I wish we had a shawn like this. but alas all we have is fiction and this is the best way I could think to end it, so I hope you enjoy. That’s all folks. Peace. 

*six months later*

Breaking News: Shawn Mendes has topped the Billboard 100 for his fourth week in a row with his hit single Fallin’ All In You. The pop star crashed onto the scene with the powerful ‘Youth’ co-written with his friend and fellow artist Khalid, and he hasn’t left us hanging yet! Is this the start of a new force to be reckoned with in the pop world or just a flash in the pan?

And we’re back with E! News. Shawn Mendes has stolen all of our hearts and it looks like he’s not willing to give them back. Here he is on the cover of GQ looking absolutely dashing as always. But the pop singer is not just here for his looks, it appears he’s a bit of a romantic as well. In the recent interview he chatted about his latest record, the potential grammy nominations, and...his girlfriend?!

Shawn Mendes is the biggest thing in pop music this year. Here he is walking the red carpet at the vma’s after taking home five awards from the night. And perhaps more stunning than the leading man himself was his girlfriend in tow, top artist manager in the game right now, y/f/n y/l/n. The two were quite the pair at the show and insiders say they couldn’t get enough of each other. Sorry ladies, this one’s taken!

Uh oh! Looks like there’s some drama in the world of Shawn Mendes. The young artist was seen leaving his attorney’s office in LA after being slammed with a law suite from none other than his father, the legendary Manny Mendes of Mendes Industry. Manny Mendes claims that Shawn was under contractual obligation not to release or perform any music and that the star may have actually breached his contract prior to signing to Atlantic records!

Popstar Shawn Mendes was recently spotted out in New York with his beautiful girlfriend, y/f/n y/l/n. The two were seen holding hands at a coffee shop and taking a stroll to a bookstore. It seems even celebrities still read books my friends! Y/n made news when she became the first ever manager to win Manager of the Year at Billboard’s Women in Music while simultaneously having one of her artists, Ariana Grande, take home the Woman of the Year prize. It seems the two are a power couple far on their way to dominate the music industry. I for one can’t wait to see what they do next.

*y/n’s point of view*

Sometimes you wake up from a really good dream. And you can’t remember what you dreamed about, can’t remember anything that happened, but all you get is this really pleasant feeling in your bones. This was one of those mornings. You woke up and your back cracked as you stretched and you curled your toes and groaned quietly. The sun was streaming through the windows. Your sheets were all comfy. And you opened your eyes to what? Your boyfriend looking at you like a total creeper.

You immediately groaned and rolled over away from him.

“Why are you staring at me, weirdo?”

“Well good morning to you too, love of my life. I’m feeling great, by the way.”

You giggled and rolled back over to find yourself in his arms. He pressed his lips to your forehead and settled his weight against you. The warmth was unlike anything you could experience elsewhere.

“What time did you get in?” You whispered.

His palm cupped your cheek, eyes bright and adorable.

“A little after three. Didn’t wanna wake you. I missed you.” He mumbled.

“I missed you too. They keep taking you away from me for longer and longer periods of time huh?”

He nodded softly. “Yea, unfortunately. Andrew thinks the world tour is gonna sell out though. They’re...they’re talking about adding dates, babe. I have a huge fanbase in the philippines...The philippines, y/n?! Me!”

God he was cute when he got excited. And Shawn was pretty much always excited when it came to music. The kid must be a dream to manage.

“I’m so very happy for you.” You chuckled. “Something tells me you’re gonna love it out there”

“You think?” He sighed. “I guess I just...I’m gonna miss you. Like crazy.”

“Me too.”

“Will you come visit me?” He asked pushing his way between your legs. “In LA?”

You snorted and wrapped your legs and arms around him.

“Of course.”

“Yea? How about in Paris?”

His lips touched your ear and you bit your lip.

“Mhm.”

“Brazil?”

“Yea.”

“Hmm...will you be my good girl? Let me take care of you?”

Your thighs tightened.

“I don’t know. I can be very bad when I’m abroad.”

He pulled back to stare at you, eyes less soft and fluffy and more hard and dominant. His curls were everywhere, even going so far as to tickle your nose. How could someone so fluffy be such a dom? It was astounding.

“How bad?” He asked.

You shrugged. “Why don’t you flip me over and I’ll show you?”

“Good god, I love you woman.”

You laughed into the sheets as he threw your body around like a rag doll. It was certainly good to be home.

“Everytime I’m away for a long time are you gonna make me remind you who you belong to?” He hummed against the dip in your back. “Who gets to make you feel good?”

You sighed noisily. “If I can help it.”

His hands on your body are like tidal waves. You never get used to it. Can never catch your breath to prepare for the next thrashing hold, the next grip, the next slap. The sun raises steadily into your bedroom, but neither of you notice. He’s too busy undressing you, touching you, making you beg. In the grand scheme of things, if he was going to be away for so long, the least the could do was throw your back out upon arrival home.

“Can I try somethin’?” He whispered kisses trailing up your tummy and between your breasts.

Your toes curled against his calves. You had to hold back a moan.

“What is it?”

“Well...I’d need to tie you down first.” He explained. “And then, as much as I love these beautiful eyes of yours I’d like to cover them for a little while. I thought about gagging your mouth on the plane ride home, but I think I wanna hear you cry out for me. How does that sound?”

It was a Tuesday morning. If you’d even bothered to look at the clock you would know it was eight thirty in the morning and you were due in the office soon. Meanwhile Shawn had spent his time planning out a whole ass elaborate sex dream. What was one to do?

“Go get the blind fold. Hurry.”

The dom/sub relationship continued to be one of the greatest sources of pleasure and relief in your life.  There’s something about the way he kisses your ankle when he straps it to the bed. The way he checks that you’re okay when your legs are spread wide. The more vulnerable you became with each other, the more open that you were the more  that you let yourself fall into these moments. Bare and naked on the bed. Nowhere to hide. Nowhere to act shy. You were on full display for him, just as he was for you. And he was in charge of your pleasure, a power that was not to be taken lightly. The good news was he knew exactly what to do with it.

“Color?”

“Green.”

“And the ropes? Do they hurt at all?”

“No, Sir.”

Without your eyes, your senses began to alter. You could sort of feel the air in the room differently. Your nipples hardened and your teeth sunk into your lip. He was watching you and you could feel it.

“What are you doing?” You murmured.

His voice came from lower, maybe between your legs at the bottom of the bed.

“Just looking. Appreciating.” He answered. “You’re beautiful baby.”

On the other side of the blind fold, Shawn was doing just that. He tilted his head back and sighed as he cupped himself firmly in his hand. While you were practically throbbing spread open for him to see, he was quite literally throbbing for you.

A groan entered the air, ending the silence.

“I missed you so much. You have no idea how much I thought about you while I was away.”

His fingers trailed up your leg and across your thigh causings your lips to part.

“S--Shawn.”

“How much I missed being inside you. Hearing you cry out for me. Are you gonna let me hear you, y/n?”

“Yes. Yes, just please touch me.”

He chuckled. “You get so impatient when I’m away.”

You sighed and pushed your hips gently towards the ceiling.

“Cause I miss what’s mine….I need it.”

You felt the bed move before you felt his presence over your body. And yet you knew the second that he was hovering over you because of the feel of his dick against your stomach. His nose skimmed your ear and you practically melted before him.

“Yours eh? You need it?”

You nodded shakily. “Please, sir? I need it so so bad.”

He sighed, long and breathy, and you could tell he wanted it just as badly as you did. You licked your lips in anticipation for it. Fuck.

“The things you do to me…Not yet. I’ve got plans for you baby girl.”

If only you knew. If only.

The buzz of it comes out of nowhere it feels like. There’s just silence. Your breathing, and the dips of the bed as he moves and nothing else. And then out of nowhere it comes buzzing. Your lips part instinctually, your body knowing something that your mind hasn’t even caught onto yet. The first time he touches it against your clit drives you wild, and before you know it the whole world sets ablaze.

“Unnnngh. Fuck.” You whimpered.

He hummed. “I got you something while I was away. What do you think?”

He’s an expert at playing you like his favorite instrument. The toy presses firmly to your clit and he rubs up and around so perfectly that you gasp. The fingers on his other hand join the party and suddenly you’re full in more ways then one. And the fact that you can’t see any of it? That there’s nothing but darkness and yet stimulation everywhere? It only heightens it all. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced.

“So wet for me. Is it because you haven’t been able to get off without me, or is it our new set up?”

You snorted. “I can get off without you just fine Mendes, just not quite this creatively.”

He chuckles and you smile, the ability to move in and out of this scene that the two of you play with one another, feels like all the love and trust that you’d chosen to given to him exclusively.

He finds his way on top of you again. The feeling of his presence and his weight rocking you to our very core. The vibrations don’t let up and your thighs begin to burn from the exertion, but here you are. You can feel the heat of his hard on and the feel of his breath against your clavicle. It’s too much. Your body can’t handle all the different sensations, but Shawn doesn’t seem to care.

His lips latch on to one of your nipples and the result is catastrophic. You burst from within for him. Like a wave crashing against the shore. Inevitable. Euphoric. Your back arches and the restraints dig into your skin as you threatened to bust out of your skin let along the ropes. It’s so powerful that it brings tears to your eyes, and a sob from your very gut.

“Oh my god! Ohmygod ohmygodohmygodohmygod! S--Stop!”

The vibrations disappear just like that. Suddenly your face in his hands and he’s ripping off the blindfold.

“Are you okay?! Did I hurt you?” He cried. “Y/n, speak!”

And then you started to giggle...softly at first and then loud and unabashed. Your knees were pulled awkwardly together against the resistance of the ropes. When Shawn saw that you were okay he rolled his eyes in that way of his. He was so cute and fluffy when he wasn’t making you cum your brains out.

“You’re gonna give a fucking heart attack one of these days you know that?”

You snorted softly and licked at your dry lips.

“Well damn daddy, how you gone tie a sister up and and put a fucking witachi wand to her and be shocked when she cums like she’s being electrocuted? You gotta commit, sir!”

He busted out laughing in that way that made his whole body shake, even his curls. You loved those laughs of his. They were everything to you. He hid is face in your neck. You could feel his laughter against your collarbone. You loved him then, more than anything in the whole world. The love of your life, he was.

It’s not until he pulls back far enough so that you can see his eyes again that the thing that is molten hot in your gut comes back. He is way too fine for his own good.

“How ‘bout I commit to making you cumall over my cock with that wand a few times? And then i thought I could take you to breakfast before work...and perhaps stop in again for a little late lunch?”

You closed your eyes and moaned.

“Put the blind fold back on.”

“Yes ma’am.”

***

There are things called insiders in the industry. It’s nosey, but very well connected people who just tend to know shit. And not like the people who leak to the tabloids, those were like commoners compared to royalty. Industry insiders could make or break a narrative. Which meant, y/n like to keep a few of them in her back pocket. It meant knowing the good shit before anybody, and more importantly...the bad shit so that you could plan and get ahead. Luckily this time it wasn’t news to get ahead of. Just perhaps news to keep a secret.

“Oh no. I know that face. You’re either about to wreck my life, or make my day. Either way one of us is leaving here in tears.” You sighed.

Into your office walked Caroline Graves, music industry insider, and one of your greatest friends though you didn’t see each other much. Caroline usually walked with gusto and poise. Today she was timid and shy, her big wide eyes tantalizing with secrets. She surely had something to share.

She smiled awkwardly. “Hi, babe!”

“Don’t ‘babe’ me. Have a seat.” You snorted.

She nodded and slid smoothly into the seat before you. She was slim and tiny with long blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She was about as white as they came, but she was a feminist to the core and the two of you had vouched for each other for years. Today was no different.

“I have news…” She began.

You chuckled. “Sis, everytime you come in here ya got news. Now what is it?”

“Something is circulating about the grammys.”

This had you sitting up straighter in the seat.

“Yea?”

“The word on the street is...Manny Mendes is trying to get Shawn Mendes barred from a single nomination.”

You bit your lip in anger. “That cold-hearted, Voldemort acting ass bastard. I should have expecto patronum’d his ass when I had the chance.”

She raised her eyebrow at you only for you to shrug.

“My boyfriend likes harry potter. When he’s happy I tend to be happy too. Please go on.”

“Apparently he’s got no grounds for the lawsuit he slapped Shawn with. He’s gonna lose the suit and he knows it, so he’s trying to pay anyone and everyone to change their score cards. Because the other word on the street is...Shawn’s gonna be up for Best New Artist, Album of the Year, Best Collaboration, Record of the Year, and Pop vocal.”

Your eyes widened. “I’m sorry?!”

She nodded. “I was just as surprised. But his debut album hasn’t left the top ten since he released it. He’s got three of the top songs of the year under his belt, and the kid is damn charming. The world loves an underdog, but you know what they love even more? A rich kid who gives it all up to chase his dream.”

“Well...shit. Shit….I mean...Shit.” You mumbled, collapsing back in your seat. “Even I didn’t call that.”

“No one did. I just want you to be aware that if my sources are right, and I’m sure you would know better than most, if Shawn’s lawyers push for the dismissal of the case and for his master’s to be returned? Things might just get a lot messier than he’s prepared for.”

“Dammit. Okay. Well thanks for the heads up. Now tell me what else is going on in this fucked up world?”

***

You heard the most peculiar sound coming from outside your door. It was a whirring sound, the kind of hypnotic machine rumblings that might make one feel nostalgic about your mother cleaning on the weekends. Perhaps it was only peculiar because you weren’t on the other side of the door, and thus to hear the sound didn’t quite make sense.

You slid your key into the door carting your purse and laptop bag into the house. Your confusion quickly came to an end when you found your boyfriend standing on the couch in sweatpants and nothing else as he attempted to vacuum the rug in the living room. In any other sense it was a vision of complete and utter ridiculousness. And yet there was nothing but tenderness in your heart. You leaned against the door with glee watching him with his tongue poised between his lips in concentration. He lifted the cord to the vacuum cleaner way high into the air as he attempted to go under the coffee table. The result was that it knocked the plug out of the wall, shutting the thing off.

“Shit.” He muttered.

A giggle passed your lips alerting Shawn that he was no longer alone. The frustration on his face turned to pure joy at the sight of you, a look that you could never get used to in a million years. He was too soft for his own good, and you loved him endlessly.

“Hey,” He smiled. “Are you spying on me?”

You shook your head, finally setting your stuff down on the kitchen table.

“Not spying...just admiring. The place looks great by the way.”

His smile only grew larger at the praise, and he quickly hopped down off the couch to make his way over to you.

“Really? I’ve been cleaning all day. I wanted it to look nice when you came home.”

His arms came to wrap around you and you quickly wrapped him up in your grasp as well. The warmth of his hold and the love that seemed to radiate from within him was enough to make you melt. And he knew this of course.

“Well it does. It looks amazing.” You hummed.

“Yea? How would you know, you’ve barely looked around. You’re just staring at me.”

“Exactly. And I like what I see.”

“Oh yea?” He asked leaning closer so your noises touched.

“Mhm.”

His lips were soft and heaven like against yours. The entire day seemed to wash away when he touched you. And you still couldn’t fathom how he managed to do that. He pulled back just far enough so that your foreheads could rest against one another and you could peer up into his eyes as he spoke.

“I know work has been really crazy for the both of us with award season. And I know I haven’t been home much--”

You quickly interrupted. “Hey, you do not need to apologize to me for working your ass off. It’s been an incredibly successful year, Shawn. You deserve it.”

“No I know, I know. I’m just saying I can also recognize that for every second I’m out there succeeding, I’m not here. And I just want you to know that I still appreciate you and us and our life that we have here. I want to build and sustain a life with you more than anything. That’s important to me.”

He had those stupid pouty lips and those ridiculous big brown eyes. It was a wonder anyone had ever said no to the bastard ever. You loved him. Oh god did you love him. He probably could get down on one knee and your ass wouldn’t even hesitate. Oh how times had changed for you.

You nodded gently. “Thank you. That means so much to me. Thank you for cleaning the house and for taking care of me. I appreciate you.”

“I appreciate you too. I appreciate everything that you do for me and for our apartment and for the world.  What do you say I take you out to dinner tonight. Give you the night off from cooking.”

“Hmmm...Can I put on something sexy for the occasion?”

He rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. “Baby, I’d be hurt if you didn’t.”

Changing out of the outfit from a day of stress and anxiety into something that had your man taking pause where he lied on your bed as you got ready was beyond worth it. You’d gone for a silk red dress that hit mid thigh and wrapped around you tightly. It was the kind of dress that made you lean back with your shoulders, that brought the poise and elegance that could only be achieved when you knew you were that bitch. With winter came protective styles and you were more than happy with your high bun that was sleeked to perfection.

“You look so pretty.” He sighed from the bed.

His eyes were big and hesitant when you looked at him from the mirror. It was as if he wanted to touch but knew he needed permission. God what a man.

You bit your lip. “You look kinda pretty too. Come ‘ere.”

Shawn was decked out in a nice pair of slacks, an upgrade to his usual skinny jeans, and dress shoes to match. He knew you preferred them to the chelsea boots so he usually only pulled them out for special occasions. Speaking of things he knew you liked, his dress shirt was a beautiful ocean blue and the buttons were non-existent. Ya man had his tiddies out exactly the way you liked him. But no stress woke friends, your tiddies were out too. Equality.

He wrapped his arms around you from behind and kissed the side of your head as you stared at each other through the mirror. The way he pressed himself against your ass was not lost on you, nor was the way you arched your back lost on him.

“Damn we look good.” You snickered.

He grinned. “Baby I don’t mean to toot our own horns but like...we’re fine as fuck.”

“Boy, toot toot toot. We are FWINE, with a W. I know we don’t believe in publicly sucking face like those obnoxious PR couples that have to keep careers afloat, but I think the world deserves to see this.”

“I think you’re right, my love.”

Two selfies--one of Shawn in a crouched position with the prayer hands staring up at you like the GAWDESS you were and another silly cute one of you sticking your tongues out at the camera--later you were off to dinner. The fact that you end up at your favorite restaurant is a surprising delight. Nothing feels out of the ordinary because your man took care of you on a regular basis. Dinners out and dressing up was a weekly occurrence, especially when you weren’t busy. However with grammys looming over your heads alone time had been scarce. So him going out of his way to make time mattered a lot to you. A lot alot.

You kept your face hidden in his neck on the ride there, a personal driver now the norm for your hotshot boyfriend. He’d gone and made you sentimental and sappy and there was nowhere to hide how you felt. Shawn had been more than patient with your difficulties in sharing emotions. But you had grown significantly.

“I love you.” You hummed against his neck.

His hands had been intertwined with yours, and he paused from playing with them to squeeze tightly at the digits.

“I love you too, sweetheart. More than anything.”

You shook your head playfully, voice small in his ear. “Not but like a lot. Like a lot, a lot.”

He chuckled. “Yea?”

You nodded, the fingers not intertwined with his finding place in his curls.

“I just can’t really imagine my life without you in it, I guess. You’re my person.”

He turned in his seat so that your legs moved over his knees and your bodies were more overlapped than apart. His palm found your cheeks and you melted like only he could cause, like only he was capable of producing within your being.

“Well good. I don’t really plan on you being without me anytime soon. I hope that’s okay?”

You nodded again. “More than okay. Don’t go away.”

“Never.”

Dinner is splendid.There’s a new added layer of paparazzi appearing outside before you’ve even arrived. Shawn can’t really go anywhere unseen anymore, but you’d never met someone so worth enduring it for. It feels simultaneously like romance and love while also feeling like a random tuesday with your best friend. Somehow he still manages to make you laugh. Somehow he can still get your toes to curl beneath the table. He asks if you’ll be his date to the grammys. You agree only if he’ll take you out for pizza after. He promises. You know he’ll uphold it. By the time desert comes you don’t think the night could get any better. You’re wrong.

“Hey do you mind if we stop at the studio real quick? I left my guitar there earlier when I was laying down a track.” He asks.

You agree because what reason do you have to say no? In hindsight never in a gazillion years would Shawn leave his guitar at a studio. He’d hold in his lap on the plane if they let him.

It’s the same studio you took him too that first time he showed Khalid how to lay a vocal better than the producer could. When he asks you to follow him in and the lights are dimmed beyond belief, you don’t get it. The fact that his guitar is nowhere to be found might certainly be a hint, but apparently you were dumb as a bag of rocks.

“Will you uh...will you sit for me?” He asked pulling up a chair by the vocal booth.

You raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“It’ll all make sense in a second.” He smiled. “Please?”

You hesitantly lowered yourself into your seat, facing Shawn as he smiled at you. His knees were bouncing, his hands waving anxiously as he tried to balance them. You hadn’t seen him so nervous since...since he asked you out on your first date. The hell?

“Shawn?” You asked. “What the hell is goin’ on?”

He swallowed. “I...I wrote you a song. And I just finished it this afternoon. Can I play it for you?”

There's that softness in his eyes again. The personification of puppy-love. He had only ever asked to give you the world since you met him, and he fought through every single wall you’d had put up long before he arrived, until he could. He plays with his rosary around his neck and flicks the beads back and fourth between his thumb and forefinger. The anxiety comes off of him in waves. He’d never been so nervous to share a song with you before. It must mean that it meant more to him than usual. The least you could do was indulge him.

“Of course.”

It’s beautiful. Perhaps the most beautiful thing he’d ever written. And drastically different from the album. Shawn had gone for R&B and soul on the record with that pop flair that made for a commercial hit. But this was all singer-songwriter. Intricate chords on the guitar. Raw vocals. Nothing else. And the words are just for you and him. It’s your life together in a song. Things that no one but the two of you could ever understand. Cooking on sunday afternoons because you hadn’t left bed until then. Your head in his lap, his fingers in your scalp when your braids were hurting. His lips on your neck. It was you. And no one else.

“Well...What did you think?” He mumbled spinning aimlessly in his chair like a toddler hyped up on sugar.

You smiled widely. “I think...I think I’m really fucking lucky to be loved by you. It’s beautiful. What is it, the next single?”

He shook his head and it made his curls bounce. God was he cute.

“Not exactly.”

“Okay, well what’s it for?”

“I’ve been thinking lately ya know? About us, and about the life that we have together. In our apartment. And I just have been thinking about how I could maybe make it better for you--no baby, just let me finish,” He whined when you went to interrupt him. “Not because it sucks but because I’m always thinking of how it could be better. And there are things I still wanna give you ya know?”

You bit your lip, for some reason willing to indulge him.

“Yea? Like what?”

He rolled closer and closer and took your fingers in his own. Intertwined.

“I wanna give you a house. With an office, so that you can get work done but I can still come see you and bother you. I wanna give you a jacuzzi  like that one we found in the Domincian Republic that one time? I wanna give you...a baby one day. You know if you--if that’s what you want. If we decide that’s what we want together. I want your mom to retire. I want you to never have to worry about anything ever again. I want to dominate the world with you, build an empire, a legacy.”

Now it was your legs that were shaking. You didn’t know how he could manage to make you feel so overwhelmingly full of love. You have not a clue how you had managed to snag him of all people. It was utterly unbelievable, and you simply would never be willing to give it up.

“And just how in the world do you expect to make all that happen, silly?”

He chuckled nervously and squeezed your fingers.

“Can I be honest?”

“That’s all I ask.”

“I haven’t quite figured it all out yet. Do you think you’d be okay with giving me a little time?”

You laughed. “Of course, babes. Take as much time as you need.”

“How ‘bout forever?”

“Forever? Well I’m not getting any younger, sir.” You snorted.

He shook his head softly, letting the wheels of his chair fall back so that he could make his way to one knee. The image had its intended effect. You froze like a lobster being tossed into the pot, and probably were just as red beneath all the melanin.

“I promise that no matter what happens, I’m gonna do everything in my power to give you everything you’ve ever wanted. I want to love you for the rest of our lives. I want to be your partner in crime. Always. Baby, will you marry me?”

“Shawn….S--Shawn...That’s an engagement ring.” You whispered.

He nodded. “It is. It’s your engagement ring. If you want it. Do you want it?”

Your fingers felt over your chest to feel the way your heart was beating so fast it might burst through. You’d spoken about it. Had had the whispered dreams in each other's ears in bed late at night. He’d promised it one day even, but never had you seen this one coming. Ever. And certainly not this soon.

“I….YES! Gimme!”

“Yea?!”

“YEA!”

He fumbles with the ring and just barely gets it onto your finger before he’s in your lap kissing you, still on his knees for you like it was nothing. Your arms wrapped tightly around him as his lips melded to yours and it couldn’t have felt any better. He was yours. A fact you had known and felt secured in for so long you could remember no different. But this was different. This was him asking you for forever. Just the two of you. Thick and thin. The whole shebang. This was love at the highest level, and trust, and compassion, and heart.

There are tears on your face and on his. You try to wipe lip gloss from his lips while he rubs at your eyes that are leaking. It’s very much the two of you. Messy and dramatic and ridiculous, but equal. When he pulls you into his arms your heart is fully and infinitely his. And there’s no space to miss it because you’ve already got his in return to fill the space.

“I love you more than anything. I can’t wait to marry you.” He smiled.

“Me neither. Me neither. I love you so much.” You whispered. “Can we go home now and make love please?”

His eyes widened. “Just like that aye?”

“Just like that.”

“You haven’t even looked at your ring.” He chuckled pulling your arms from around his neck.

You rolled your eyes. “Oh Shawn you know I don’t care about material pos--WELL DAMN! Suddenly I can’t see. Suddenly I am blinded by the light! SHEESH!”

The thing was massive. A beautifully elegant, diamond encrusted band wrapped around your finger. It was easily overshadowed by the diamond itself. The classic princess cut, which he had somehow picked out without ever asking you. You didn’t know how many carats it was, and in reality it didn’t really matter. If you knew him, and you did, it wasn’t about being flashy. It was truly about giving you everything he thought you deserved. And this had just been another on the very long list.

“It’s beautiful. You know that.” You sniffled holding your finger up to the light. “Jesus, Shawn.”

“I had it designed after we moved in together. I might have asked Ti for some pointers.” He smiled reaching your hand. “I just wanted it to be perfect.”

“It is. It really is. Please come here?”

More kissing. More holding. More love. More emotion. Being in love is a lot of work y’all.

“Please...Please take me home now.” You murmured when the warmth of his hands on your hips had begun to burn through your dress and all you wanted was to thank him...and thank him...and thank him.

“You have no idea how much I want that….But I actually have another proposition for you.”

At this you paused.

“Oh for the love of all that is holy! Shawn my heart cannot take anymore tonight. What in the caucasity could you possibly have to show me?” You whined.

“I cannot wait to tell our children how you made me swoon on the night I proposed.” He snickered, suddenly handing you a thick, padded envelope. “I thought you might like to be my business partner as well as my life partner.”

In the folder were documents detailing the lawsuit of Mendes Industries versus Shawn. It documented the trial, and the win on Shawn’s lawyer’s part. It documented all of the songs that they'd won back, all his hard work that was now his possession again. And it offered the trademark to a new name, a new industry one might say….S+Y Industries. and it had the audacity to list your name as CEO.

“What in the entire fuck is this?” You gasped. “And speak quickly because you know I slap irrationally when I get excited.”

And suddenly his hands found your hips again, like a little rum rubbing against the gums of a teething baby, lulling you into his hold. You could smell his cologne and his heat and it made your heart beat calm if only slightly.

“See I had this incredible manager, who wasn’t a manager, decide to craft my contract on an album by album deal, which means after this tour...I have options. And so I thought maybe I might house all of my work from the past, present, and future, under my own label. And then I thought how crazy that was...how I couldn’t do it alone, so I just thought...maybe you might like to run it with me.”

His hands trembled against your waist. It was the only indication that you weren’t crazy, that this was indeed the wildest shit anyone had ever asked of you in your whole life. Of everything you could have ever expected from this, this wasn’t even in the same stratosphere. To run your own label had been a dream of yours since you were a child. When he had said he wanted to give you the world, the man wasn’t joking.

“Baby you--you gotta speak. My heart is pounding. I’m going crazy over here.” He mumbled licking his lips.

Your body slowly unfroze as you looked up from the paperwork and into the eyes of the craziest man you’d ever met in your life.

“Well that’s what your pasty ass gets for pulling this shit on me like this.”

He only smiled softly at you. “You’ve got a point. So uh...what do you say?”

“I say...I’ll have to have my lawyers read over it of course. And my terms for being CEO will only be founded on the basis that my salary increases from what I’m making now. We’ll need to discuss what your role as President will be, and what that will look like within the context of the company as you continue to tour and make music of course. And I want to make sure you’re protected from--”

“Sweetheart,” He whispered, pulling your eyes to him. “Just say yes. I’ll do whatever you want. You know that. Just say yes.”

You nodded silently, admittedly a little lost in his eyes and his confidence and his soul. Jesus.

“Y--Yes.”

“Come here.”

And he kisses you again and again and again until your bodies are more one than two. Until your heart beats both faster and slower at the same time. Until it’s just the two of you against the world. You liked your odds.

*two months later*

*Shawn’s point of view*

There’s a reason why he needs her with him at all times. There’s a reason why his hands shake when she’s not holding him. A reason why his breathing is out of sorts when she’s not around. There’s a reason why they’re sat in the front row at the Grammys and a reason why he makes them point out her seat in the crowd for him.

The grammys were the most terrifying night of his whole entire life. A lot of people felt like they could define a night, a year, an entire career. But they could never mean more than to a boy who had grown up with them around the house, who had seen them on the coffee table, who had to leave his life behind to even get a shot at one. The Grammys meant that the world had accepted him, had welcomed him in with open arms...despite his dad doing everything in his power to get them not to. But they also meant that she had believed in him like no one had, like not even he had.

So, that night when he performs he’s only performing for her. And he’s only singing to her. Perhaps for that reason alone it’s one of the smoothest performances he’s ever had. When the last note rings out, he lets his guitar fall against his thigh and he holds his fingers to his lips to send a kiss her way. He knows the camera is on the two of them. He wants them all to know that no one has ever loved anyone the way he loves her. And the kiss she sends back his way is all he’ll ever need. It’s the icing on the cake. To be loved by her. He was ready to go home with that and only that. You have to believe that.

He walks backstage and Andrew is waiting there with a guy dressed in all black and a headpiece in his ear. They both stop him, and he’s just a little bit annoyed that he can’t get back to y/n faster. They had a game plan to take a drink every time Alicia Keys performed a random song that night.

“What’s up?”

“They’re about to announce Best Collaboration and Best Pop Vocal. You’re up for both, so you’re staying here.”

He winced. “W--Wait can I...can I go back to my seat first?”

Andrew shook his head. “What? No, man. Come on the camera’s ready to go.”

“But y/n! She’s got my phone, I can’t even text her.”

“You can look  at her if you win the grammy, now stop whining!”

His heart pounds. His legs shake. His hands wreak havoc on his guitar until they yell at him for playing and take the damn thing away from him. It’s the scariest minute of his whole entire life. He’s lucky they hadn’t started drinking quite yet.

“And the winner for best collaboration goes to….Shawn Mendes ft. Khalid, “Youth”!!!!”

The curtain backstage opens and he doesn’t move. Because surely there’s a mistake. Surely Ariana Grande or someone else won. He was just a guy with a guitar. There was no fucking way.

“SHAWN GO!” Andrew huffed pushing him towards the stage.

Khalid is already there. Shawn feels so stunned he waddles awkwardly toward the stage. Fucking Lizzo is standing there for Christ sake. Khalid is all smiles and jumps on him with love and a squeezed hug. He still can’t believe it.

Lizzo hands him the fucking grammy and suddenly its in his hands. His hands. And the whole room goes silent because they’re waiting for him to speak. Him.

“I...I don't know what to say.” He mumbled.

“THAT’S MY MANS. STAND UP TALL BOY!”

He looks over in the direction of her and she’s standing for him. She’s got tears in her eyes. She’s smiling so big it looks like it hurts. For him. All for him. And because she said so his spine straightened. Because it was actually all for her.

“I...can only thank one person on this earth for this grammy and for this year and for this life that I have now.” He sniffled, throat tightening as he turned to her. “You found me when I was nothing but a trust fund asshole who couldn’t look more than two feet in front of him. You loved me and healed me and cherished me when no one else would. This is only because of you. Because you’re the most talented human being in this room, and you work harder than any of us. Because for some reason you think I’m worthy of your love. Thank you. I--I’m gonna spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I love you. T--Thank you.”

It’s like walking on butterflies. It’s like doing coke and ecstasy and molly all at once. His ears feel like they’ve burst. His heart is thudding so fast he’s given up on trying to calm down. He just wants to go to her. He’s not too proud to wipe away the tears in his eyes, and there’s a moment where Khalid and he just hold each other. Because they just wrote a song about how the world wasn’t fair, and it had somehow been recognized by that very world. In the middle of this hug, he is once again tugged in a different direction against his will, because why the fuck not.

Best pop vocal album doesn’t even make sense. Like it was actually wild. He had thought it was ridiculous when he got nominated, and for them to hand him the award is just absurd. Absolutely absurd.

“What the hell?” He asked y/n through the mic, because apparently he could only speak to her during his acceptance speeches. “I really thought Ariana had this one.”

Ari was sitting next to y/n in a ball gown that nearly swallowed her, but he could at least see the two of them nodding at each other.

“So did we!”

“I’m so sorry.” He mumbled to both of them, incredibly sincere. “Uh...I wanna thank my fans for even buying the music and coming to see me.That is the wildest thing in the world to me and I promise to never take it for granted. I’m gonna leave now. Okay bye.”

They finally let him go back to his seat during the commercial break. He practically falls into her arms. Her lip gloss coats his mouth and he couldn’t be happier. Finally, with her fingers on him he can relax.

“I can’t believe you used your first grammy speech to just ramble about me.” She whined wiping away the colored lip gloss. “Did you not write a damn speech like I told you too?”

He shook his head softly. “I didn’t think I would win. And you--you looked so pretty. I got starstruck. I won two grammys baby, I’m the happiest guy alive right now. Now can we please get drunk and listen to Lady Gaga? It’s all I want.”

“Sorry sweetheart. You’re up for three more tonight. No alcohol for you.”

“I...What? But--But what about our drinking game?”

“You have a reputation to uphold sir.” She said sternly.

He simply pouted at her with as soft of a look as humanly possible. She raised an eyebrow as if it wouldn’t work. His fiance was a tough cookie to crack.

*ten minutes later*

“Look babe! Alicia is at the piano again!” He murmured excitedly.

“Alright. Down the hatch!”

And the tequila kept coming for the rest of the night.

*an hour later*

“Babe, I wanna go home.” He whined into her shoulder.

“Mmm, can’t yet. There’s still like three more awards left. You’re three for five babe.”

“You smell so good. I think your collarbones are my favorite body part. I’d like to dedicate some time to them later if you’d let me”

She giggled. “Boy, we’re in public.”

He pouted at her, a bit annoyed that this award show was stopping him from making love to her already.

“Then let’s leave. Right now. We can elope. I don’t even need a wedding. Just you, me, a bottle of champagne, and that villa in Rome. What do you say?”

“I say….you need to give me your cup before you slip and tell the whole world we’re engaged.”

No fun.

He leans on her shoulder and stares up at her wondering how the hell she got so pretty when the next awards are called.

“It is time to announce Best New Artist. Past winners have included Alessia Cara, Doa Lipa, and me, Billie Eilish. Here are the nominees.”

“Baby, I love you.” He whispered pursing his lips for a kiss.

“You are on camera. They’re about to announce your award, babes.”

“There’s no way in hell I won, y/n. Look I’m so content right now I just wanna--”

“And the winner is...SHAWN MENDES.”

And suddenly he was upended by the gracious melanated pillow that was his fiance's titties. Truly a crime against humanity.

“GO!” The entire first row yelled as he stared around owlishly.

Tequila is a hell of a thing.

He reached for her hand and immediately began walking towards the stage, not at all concerned by her yelling at him or trying to remain in her seat. Fat fucking chance.

He gets her on the stage and they both hug Billie, and he has a moment where he realizes he actually fucking won, and what that means. They hand him the award and y/n tries to step back with BIllie but he won’t let go of her hand, wouldn’t dream of letting go of her hand. She’s not wearing his ring in that moment, and he knows exactly why, but he can still feel it -- the commitment, between the two of them. That will never fade.

“I’m so sorry that I’m up here again. I--I’m sure that you’re sick of me. But, I’m so glad I get the chance to have her up here with me just once. I don’t uh I don’t get to talk about all that she’s done for me, mostly because she won’t let me. And mostly because her job is to make people like me and a lot of you get to a place where we can share our stories and our passion through music. But not all of us are that lucky. And for a long time, I wasn’t.”

He peered over at her for courage and strength and perhaps because he just liked to look at her. When she smiled it made him feel safe. And so he kept talking.

“I signed a contract with my father when I was fifteen years old...and I thought he wanted the best for me, thought that he’d make me a star or something. But instead he took every song I ever wrote and kept it from being released. And he didn’t let me perform, record, or even write anything that could be viewed in public for years. And I think a lot of people in this room wouldn’t even know what to do with themselves if they couldn’t create. Music is what makes me--us--human. I’m nothing without it.” He peered down at his grammy and swallowed thickly. She pressed her fingers against his back and it was like he could breathe better, so he smiled at her “But uh it would mean nothing if I didn’t have you. I’m gonna write songs about you for the rest of my life. I’m gonna love you for the rest of my life. And if we get a couple grammys for it that’ll be cool. But I’m me because you allowed me to be. So this is for you. Okay? No take backs.”

He hands her the award and rests his hands upon her waist. They’re shaking, but he can’t tell when she’s kissing him in front of the whole world. The applause that rings out around them might as well be background noise. He’s got nothing in his head, his heart, his field of vision, but her. And he kind of wants it to stay that way forever.

That alone could be the end of the story. And he’d never ask for another thing again. But instead they take home album of the year and he has to get up there and make another speech. He was sick of speeches, and he was sure the rest of the audience was too. So he quickly thanked his collaborators, Khalid again, Niall for essentially creating the record with him, Andrew, everyone at the label, his mum. You know, the people he couldn’t thank when he was do busy praising y/n?

“Sorry again. I guess I could have thanked all those people earlier in the night but I just wanted to spend some time talking about my fiance tonight. It’s my favorite thing in the world. Have a good night everyone!”

And a bit of a gasp rings out across the crowd. And he pauses cause he’s not quite sure what’s going on. He looks to Alicia who gave him the award and her eyes are wide. Not a great sign. He peers over to y/n because surely she could tell him what the hell had happened. She stares him down like a wolf that hasn’t eaten in a few weeks. Even Ariana Grande is shaking her head at him in a big puffy dress like she’s disappointed. And the poor bastard that he is, he truly doesn’t know what he did wrong at first.

“Well that’s what it’s all about folks. Love. It’s a beautiful thing. I think I speak for us all when I say we wish y/n and Shawn nothing but the best in their marriage. That’s our show tonight. Have a wonderful night and spend some time spreading love and positivity.”

Oh God.

“What did I do? What did I do?!” He asked her walking down the steps of the stage.

“You told the whole world we’re getting married, boy. Get your pasty ass down here!”

He walks back to her like a puppy with its tail between its legs. He was genuinely the dumbest fucker alive.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I--I didn’t mean to--it just slipped out!” He apologized.  “At least I didn’t tell them about the label.”

She rolled her eyes. “I simply cannot believe you’re my forever. You just won five grammys. Shut up and kiss me already.”

That much he could do. 

The End.

Permanent taglist 

@simpledomain @liliane106  @xeuphorically-moonstruck @euphoric05 @daijanicole @bruhh-whateven @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @decewill @goldiean @bitchacho25 @bruhh-whateven @justbeingoceana @loveylangdon @iloveshawnieboi @justbeingoceana @september-lace @valedictorian65 @disaster-rose @dimestorebieber22 @MixerMani @qcoachcartier @sinplisticshawn @kamahriii @lifeoftheparty74 @qcoachcartier @justbeingoceana

Arrangement Taglist: 

@moonlightmendes22  @cottoncandyshawn @iloveshawnieboi @shawnsblue

@claredolphinbear24 @peterbrokenparker @blackharry @shawnwyr @speakingofmari @moniehp @softmendesss @ydolansss  @chonmnds @MixerMani @kitykatnumber  @lanallaa @@mendesficsxbombay @palhacomendes 

[frooopsen]

kyalin - part 1

Tw: self inflicted wound / character death 

Post-TLOK / book 4

Summary: Kya and Lin are already together and Lin’s repressed fears show themselves in an unexpected way.

Notes: Bear with me, as this is my first and also english isn’t my mothertongue. If y’all like it, imma maybe write a second follow-up chapter. + my laptop won‘t let me chose the correct quotation marks...

RESTLESSNESS

Kya was tugging at her hands. „Stop it Kya!“, she huffed, trying to loosen the waterbender‘s firm grip around her wirsts. „Don’t be a bore, just do it! Deep down you want to.“, Kya said shaking her head. When Lin started looking around in search for objects to cling onto, she thought it best not to keep dragging her towards the big windows leading to the garden. Afterall she didn’t want Lin to stomp her feet into the ground. Moving the stubborn woman wasn’t worth damaging their floor.

„Fine!“, she gave in, stepping out into the rain, back turned on her lover. „Alone I go.“ Without bothering to bend the raindrops away from herself she swung around, blowing an exaggerated kiss towards the smiling sillouette, leaning against the windowframe.

Though Lin wasn’t surprised anymore by Kya wandering off into the garden at random times to dance – even in the rain – she didn���t like the idea of being dragged outside herself – especially when it was raining. She much rather stood there, watching her. The silver hair gradually clinging to her shoulders as it became increasingly wet, her tan body moving swiftly as she seemed to be playing with the drops, rather than avoiding them.

As a blow of wind swept by the open window she felt the cold air raising goosebumps on her skin. „Aren’t you getting cold?“, she asked in consideration. Kya stopped spinning and stood with her arms stretched out to regain her balance. „I won’t be if you bring me one of your sweaters.“, she said smirking at Lin.

When she came back from the bedroom, sweater in hand, waiting for Kya to approach her, the other woman didn’t even think about moving. „Stop teasing and come here. We don’t want you getting a cold.“

The waterbender innocently shrugged her shoulders. „Well then you better get over here soon to warm me up.“ Lin knew it was a waste of time arguing with her and her clothes hopefully wouldn’t be soaked, spending a few seconds outside. „The things I do for you.“, she mumbled, stepping onto the lawn.

Desperately trying to keep her scowl, she felt her face growing softer as the distance between them closed. „Look who made it to the party!“, the waterbender kept teasing as she pulled the sweater over her wet clothes before quickly leaning in for a kiss. „Ew, Kya, you’re drenched!“, Lin complained after pulling away. „An now so are you. Come on, just dance with me.“

The earthbender held both hands over her head, shielding her hair. After contemplating for a moment she gave in to Kyas smug smile and wrapped her hands around her waist. „Alright, you win. But we’re going back inside in two minutes.“ The waterbender nodded slowly and placed both her hands on Lins shoulders, encouraging her to sway from left to right.

They each had their focus on the other until their foreheads practically touched. The cold was almost forgotten when after a while Kya broke the embrace and took a step back. Certain of victory she clapped her hands together and the rain stopped completely as the clouds vanished within the blink of an eye. Lin didn’t have time for her confusion to fully settle in before Kya asked, „Don’t you want to say goodbye?“

Her voice was filled with fear, causing Lins heart to sting. „What are you talking about?“ She reached out for Kyas hands but froze as she saw her pulling a kitchen knife from behind her back. „What are you doing?“ Terror filled the earthbender‘s voice as her stance instinctively widened. „Where did you even get that?“

Kya slowly moved the knife towards her own throat, maintaining the eye-contact. The feeling of helplessness swallowed Lin whole as she tried moving but found herself paralyzed. „Kya stop it! This isn’t a joke!“, she exclaimed as the other woman rephrased sternly. „Say it! Time’s running out! Say your good-bye.“ Lin shook her head, trying to regain her sense of self. What was she talking about?

„Drop that knife!“, she demanded, internally thanking her inner chief for kicking in. A relieved sigh escaped her mouth as Kya complied, moving the blade downwards. „You should have just said it.“, she whispered disappointedly. Her words were accompanied by action as she plunged the knife into her chest without a sound or wince.

Lins eyes widened in horror.

Kya fell back, smiling.

„KYA!“, Lin screamed as her voice cracked and her legs gave in. „I’m sorry! I’m sorry!“, she cried, pressing the other woman against herself, rocking the both of them, „I’ll say it! I’ll do it! I’ll say good-bye.“ She couldn’t hear herself against the blood rushing in her ears.

Kya looked up at her, chuckling, „Good-bye’s over now, silly.“

A wave of panic rushed over Lin as she felt the body, she was now hunching over, grow limb. The next wave followed as she felt a strong hand ripping her wrist to the left and a voice calling her name.

„Lin.“ She felt herself blacking out but after a few breaths she noticed she hadn’t blacked out but woken up. „Lin, Lin.“, Kya mumbled while waking herself and turning on the lamp ontop of the nightstand. „What’s wrong? Are you ok?“

Lins eyes met hers and even in the dim light and with squinted eyes, Kya saw a kind of fear she hadn’t seen since Ammon had taken Lin’s bending. „Breathe.“, she reminded her and pulled the blanket away from atop them, revealing the tense body next to her. „You’re home“, her soft voice filled the room, „You’re ok.“

Lin slowly calmed her breathing and her eyes closed in exhaustion. She tried her best to reach their blanket, but her body still wouldn’t move. Kya sat up straight trying not to let the worry she felt, take over her facial expression. „Can you let got of my hand now?“, she whispered as Lin’s breathing slowed down. With now both hands Kya carressed her lover‘s limbs and face, bending away the pearls of sweat, which seemed to gradually lead to less tension. „Try going back to sleep.“, she said, leaving kisses on Lins cheek. She almost overheard the hoarse voice finally answering her, „Can you stay awake, until I’m back asleep?“.

„Of course.“, she smiled, carefully sliding closer and drawing Lin into a loose embrace.

[quinnhayden]

so i know it's a What If/au thought right now (as far as you've let us know 👀) but while rereading kintsukuroi, i just keep thinking of sam joining the trio and the Potential Content,, , specifically just like sam, bucky, and quinn ganging up on steve with sweet words to see how flustered they can get him. or sam lowkey but actually highkey seriously flirting with them both just to get a rise out of bucky, only to flip the flirting onto him if he gets a reaction. i just really love sam wilson 🥺💙

FIRST OF ALL WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT TO LEAVE THIS SOFT SAM CONTENT IN MY INBOX AND THEN JUST LEAVE?!!!??

Secondly....,,,,...have some soft Sam and Quinn content from an abandoned AU of the trio adding Sam to the mix in Wakanda 🥺🥰

———————

As much as she needs it to, Quinn could run clear across Wakanda and it still wouldn’t help. It’s still there, under her skin. Buzzes and thrums and eats her up inside and she doesn’t know that she’ll ever escape this. Sometimes, she wonders about the real reason Steve took a swan dive in the ice. It tempts her, when she’s in the lake, to sink under the water and never come back up, suffocate what’s inside her. Naïve, she tried to brand it Fenrir, pretend it was this separate, rabid beast. She tried to quench the thirst with blood, but it still wants. It needs to move, it needs the violence, and it chafes at what she has here. It’ll never stop because it isn’t Fenrir. It’s Quinn.

This all makes her so ashamed. Too ashamed to be around her soulmates. It doesn’t matter that they’re both asleep. Well, she itches to move, but when she realized why she needed to move then that’s when the shame started up. So, she leaves their little plot and walks on the lake’s shoreline. Like this’ll help ease her mind. Whatever. Better to walk around than roll over, wake Steve up, and have him stare at her like she’s about to shatter.

Fish brush too close to the surface of the water and ripples disturb the moon’s reflection in the water. Fuck, she’s exhausted. Tired down to her bones. There is peace here. First time in decades, she can rest, so why doesn’t she want that? Why do her knuckles ache to be split back open, ache to clench, ache to be drenched in blood? The more she’s without the actual violence, the more it raises hell inside her. It claws at her throat, pokes and prods in her brain, and makes her feel too much like a feral animal.

Quinn comes to a stop. There’s someone else at the shoreline. Well, at a tree that’s close to the lake. She hesitates when he doesn’t call out to her or even nod toward her. He has a reason to be up at this hour and she thinks it’s not a nice one, so she decides to approach him.

“Sam?”

No response. Sam keeps quiet, like he doesn’t even know she’s there. Sure, she has enhanced senses, but the moon is round and full. He should be able to see her, enhanced or not. She walks in his direct line of vision, knows he can see her, but he still doesn’t move. Damn, he must be zoned out bad. It must’ve been a real bad dream. She crouches down and debates on whether she should do this or not, but…touch helps her a lot when she’s stuck in her own head. What’s the worst that could happen? He couldn’t hurt her all that bad if he happened to lash out on accident.

“Sam?” Quinn repeats quietly and reaches out to touch his bare shoulder. His skin is still slick with sweat. Thankfully, he only blinks and his attention snaps over to her. He tenses up underneath her hand, so she slowly pulls back. Puts a little distance between them. “Howdy,” she drawls with a little smile. Until he sends her away, she’ll sit with him and plops down there in front of him. “You here with me?”

“What—” is he confused about where he is? Does he not know what happened? He sucks in a shaky breath, rubs both his hands across his face, and then shakes his head. Tries to shake it off. She can taste his hesitation in the air, like he thinks about if he wants to lie to her. He breathes out slowly, his body relaxes, and he answers with a low, “Yeah, I’m back.” Then, he wipes away the sweat from his forehead, pulls his arm away, and scrunches his nose at it.

Quinn’s been around Sam when he had a bad dream, once or twice. All she ever did was help lull him back to sleep and when they woke up, he never talked about it. She thinks she should’ve made him. “You look like a man that could use a drink,” she decides on. She needs to make him talk to her but not pull his teeth out about it.

“You look like a woman that could use some sleep. A shower, too. Why the hell are you out this late?”

“Sam, at this hour, I think it’s considered early. Not late.” The news makes him moan in exasperation and she smiles wryly. “I was too wired to sleep. Didn’t want to lay around in bed, so I went on a run. Still ain’t sure why y’all hoot and holler so much about me bein’ alone. The worst I have to worry about here are panther attacks and I could handle that. Y’know, I’d like to see who’d win that, actually—me or the panther.”

Sam leans back on the tree and slumps while he chuckles. “They’ll probably throw you out of the country because you punched a national icon.”

“Good point. I’ll outrun it then. Steve doesn’t need two soulmates who caused an international disaster.” Classic diversion tactic, Wilson, to make this about her. Quinn’s not about to take the bait. She’s too much of an expert when it comes to this particular method. “So, you want to tell me where you went? Or are we not supposed to talk about it?”

“All the times you woke me up in the hotel room with your screams and wouldn’t talk to me about it, I think I’m allowed one,” he shoots back and it’s sharp, a little mean. He winces when he realizes it came out nastier than he meant. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make it sound like that.”

“Don’t tell me sorry. I know you didn’t mean it.” She’ll never take it personally. Hell, Sam is allowed this. He’s allowed a lot. He’s dealt with her shit—and Steve’s, too, since they spent so much time on the road with each other. “And I won’t make you talk about it, but you wouldn’t let me be alone when I wanted that. So, I won’t let you be alone, either.”

“You didn’t have a choice. We were trapped. There was literally no place you could’ve went.”

“Oh, trust me, I could’ve went anywhere else. I could’ve went on a run, went to swim at a pool, went to some bar or diner to eat…like I said, anywhere.” She waves around them more to motion that that’s what she’s up to now. She hopes he can’t see how nervous or uncomfortable it makes her to admit this.

Look, in order for Sam to be emotionally vulnerable with her, she has to show him that she can do it, too. He doesn’t have to deal with whatever this alone. Because…because…well, she didn’t comprehend this until now, but he is. Alone. Wanda…she won’t admit it, but she always books it to spend time with Vision more often than not. Natasha tends to spend her downtime with Clint because it’s not hard on her to become someone else. Quinn, Steve, and Bucky…as in a weird spot as they are, they all still have each other. Where’s that all leave Sam?

Jesus Christ, she and her soulmates are literally the most oblivious people on the planet.

While Quinn has a quick mental breakdown over how stupid she’s been, Sam apparently has his own epiphany. “All those runs in D.C or when we were stuck at a hotel—” he knocks his head back on the tree. Surely to God he doesn’t blame himself that he didn’t see this sooner. Honest, Quinn’s not really embarrassed that much by this. A run or a swim is a lot healthier way to cope than some of the dumb stunts she’s pulled in the past. “Man, I told myself you just really liked to run.”

“No one likes to run, Sam, especially at the ass-crack of dawn. Except maybe Steve…and even then, I still ain’t sure. I never really ask him why he does it. Bucky’s told me that, before the war, Steve never used to wake up that early. Steve says the army switched him around.” She picks at the grass between them. “Don’t take it so hard. It’s…half and half with me. Sometimes, I really am too wired to sleep. I think that’s the ADHD, I don’t know.” He raises a brow. Oh. Did she not tell him about that? Well, now he knows. “Other times, I need an out.”

“Now?”

She squirms uncomfortably, but she needs to be open. Show him that this is a two-way street—that she can trust him and he can trust her. “A little bit of both? I—” she needs to not be emotionally repressed. Just because she was born in the twenties doesn’t mean she has to act like it. “Don’t tell Steve and Bucky, okay?” He nods wordlessly and that helps her move on. “This is all I ever wanted, did you know that? When we were those three dumb kids back in a war, I wanted to have a place where we could settle down and love in peace. We have that now. For the first time in…in seventy years, we have peace. So, why do I have this itch under my skin that I can’t scratch? Why the fuck is all I think about when the next mission is? Why can’t I—why don’t I want the peace?”

“Honest opinion?”

“God, yes, Sam. You know I always want you to be honest with me.”

Sam pauses, thinks about how to explain it. “SHIELD learned you had a super soldier serum, knew that they wouldn’t ever have Steve back, and they made you Captain America.” She balks at that because…no. No. Other than the fact that she could never be Captain America, what she did on Hydra’s dime was not what heroes like Steve do. “Okay, not Captain America to you, but definitely Captain America to everyone else. Point is that you spent seventy years as a soldier. Maybe you took some time off here and there, but compared to Steve and Barnes, you never had a break in the ice. That messes a person up.” His voice lowers and he’s sad. It makes her hurt to hear him hurt and…that’s all for her. Why’s it for her? “They made you into a weapon as much as they made your boys one. I’m not sure you’ve known it any other way than this, Quinn.”

That…that really is a…a fair point. She never stopped to think about it like that. Still, “I’m—no, I don’t know how true that is. I…can someone be born with violence in their blood? Because my knuckles have been bloody since the day…some asshole pulled on my ponytail and called my pa names.” She runs a shaky hand through her hair. “At least it ain’t all me. I think Steve has this problem, too. Swear to God, I don’t know how you and Bucky deal with us.”

“Guess me and Barnes have a type—dumb blondes with hearts of gold and a chip on their shoulder. You’re both real pretty. That helps, too.”

Quinn’s really happy it’s dark out. Sam won’t be able to see how red her cheeks are. “Shut up.” The mood sobers when she remembers that this wasn’t supposed to be about her and he spun it around so that’s all it became. “Aw, Jesus, Sam, this wasn’t supposed to be about me. Stop takin’ care of everyone else, asshole. Tell me what’s on your mind for once.”

“I can’t lie and say I don’t remember what the dream was about, can I?”

“It don’t help that you admitted you want to lie to me. You couldn’t pull one over on me that easy, no how. Someone doesn’t check out the way you did over a dream they don’t remember.” She pauses and her heart breaks a little bit more. Everyone has bad dreams, she reasoned when Sam would wake her up with his, so she never pushed. He’s been such a rock that she never stopped to think how much he’s eroded under the pressure. “It…it ain’t always been like this, has it? Sam, how much has this happened to you?”

“It isn’t like I can call up my therapist and talk to him,” he shoots back. It’s hard not to react to that because she’s the reason he can’t do that. This isn’t about her and she turns her head to the side so he can’t see her expression. “No. Don’t do what Steve does, damn it. Don’t put this on you. I could’ve went with the Accords on my own, but I didn’t. This was all my own choice,” he makes sure to remind her. It doesn’t help, but she reels her emotions back in and looks back over at him. “It hasn’t been. This bad in a while, okay? Honestly. It hasn’t been like this since—” Riley, he doesn’t say, but he doesn’t need to. Oh. Oh. It all makes so much sense now. Yeah, she…she thinks she understands now. Sam was there, up close and personal, reached out to try and catch Rhodey, and watched him drop the same way he saw Riley drop.

There are times that words won’t help. Words can sound like pity and in situations like these, it’ll only feel like salt rubbed on an open wound. This is done. For now. He’s open and exposed and she won’t risk it to have him close back up. “C’mon, we both need to sleep a little.” She clambers to stand and reaches a hand out toward him. He cocks his head to the side. “What? I said I wouldn’t let you be alone and you’re tired, I can tell.”

“Yeah, you’re tired, too. You also have two soulmates to run back to.” He dismisses her with a wave. “Shoo. I can handle it on my own.”

He absolutely can and will not handle it on his own. Not anymore. Not while Quinn lives and breathes. “I do. You don’t. Since when has that mattered? This ain’t no different than all those motel rooms.” He doesn’t move and she puts her hands on her hips. “I can and will carry your ass.”

It almost seems like Sam is about to throw a hissy fit about this. He throws his arms up in the air, but he’s not exactly the scariest person out there. “You won’t take no for an answer, will you?” Now he understands. He’s always been quick to the uptake. She beams at him in triumph. “Fine. Whatever. Shit, you’re merciless.” Then, he takes her hand that’s still stretched out to him, and she helps him up to his feet. “Steve and Barnes won’t be worried?”

“Probably will be, but they won’t push about it. We’ve let each other have our space here lately. I’ve lived with Steve, but never with Bucky. Steve’s lived with Bucky and me, but never at the same time. Bucky’s only lived with Steve and he sometimes can’t even remember those days,” she explains as he leads her inside his hut. “I don’t think it’s been this awkward between us since—hell, since the day they told me they were my soulmates.”

Inside the hut, Sam motions toward the mat, the wordless ladies first. She smiles crookedly at him before she drops down on it and stretches out with a pleased moan. It becomes pretty obvious how much she’s worn herself out since she came back from the mission. Endless runs and swims with very little sleep. Oh, this isn’t her bed. How rude. She shimmies over until she’s made a spot next to her for Sam.

Compared to Quinn, who went and made herself at home, Sam is a lot tenser when he settles down on the mat. He’s situated on his back and stares up at the roof of the hut. At first, she thinks he’s so hesitant because he’s scared to have a bad dream, but this isn’t that. This…the air around them is awkward, not upset. She doesn’t know why the hell he’s so bent out of shape about this. It can’t be because of the whole soulmate deal. Steve and Quinn were married when the three of them went on that manhunt for two whole years, for fuck’s sake.

Determined to make him comfortable, she rolls over on her side and stares him down. Hopefully, she can scare him into comfort since he wants to be all stubborn about it. This shouldn’t be so weird, especially when he’s silently hurt and never told another soul about it. Hell, she wants to wrap an arm around his waist, press close and hold him, but she can’t push. Besides, she never deliberately did that before. Not like it’d really matter because they always ended up as spoons when they woke up in hotel rooms which is what’ll happen here. And, sure, physical contact tends to help her—and Steve and Bucky—out, but it may not help everyone else.

Then, thank the Lord, Sam drops whatever he has held on to. The tension bleeds from his body and he rolls over to face her, too. A little bitchily, he asks, “You always have your way in the end, don’t you?” She cracks up and it’s an infectious sound because he starts to laugh with her. “God, I hate you. You tried to spin me that shit about how it’s all Steve with the apple pie charm.” His voice pitches up with an overdramatic drawl as he says, “Oh, Sam, Steve’s the one with the face no one can resist. Not me, no, sir. Not me at all.” The tone drops back down to normal. “Bullshit, Quinn. Bull-fucking-shit.”

“Yeah, I know. I know, Sam. Got me. I’m a dirty rotten liar and I always get what I want.”

———————

Both Sam and Quinn wake up, near exact the same time, and she can’t tell that it’s not her and her alone that’s shocked. Because they slept. The sun’s position up in the skies means it must be near noon, so…they slept hours. She don’t sleep like the dead, not how she used to, so she would’ve known if he’d woken up at some point to roll over or had another bad dream or whatever. He didn’t. She knows she didn’t, either. They slept completely undisturbed. That…hasn’t happened to her in…a while. With his arm wrapped around her waist, his whole body curved around hers, she probably would’ve drifted back off if she wasn’t so blown away by the fact that she slept so much. Holy shit. It probably won’t ever happen a second time, but fuck. It’s nice to wake up and be so rested.

Sam seems more than happy to sleep some more since he pulls her closer. His breath is hot on the back of her neck and he buries his nose in her hair, breathes deep. She’s a furnace, she knows. Everyone that sleeps in the same bed as her loves that. “Better let Steve and Buck know I wasn’t murdered by a panther,” she explains and he snorts in response. “Don’t be a stranger, Sam. We’re not that far away.” As she leans to sit up, she squeezes his shoulder one last time. Sam seems more than happy to roll over onto his other side and sleep some more. She smiles fondly at him one last time before she stands up and heads out. ———————

No surprise, both Steve and Bucky are up, awake, and…somewhat active. Bucky’s active, anyway. Quinn never would’ve expected that Buck would take to the farm life as well as he has. It makes a little sense, now that she thinks about it. This is productive and this work won’t bloody up his hands. Good comes from this. Sometimes, if he’s a little too wild in the eyes and there’s no work to be done on their land, he’ll head over to help the locals out in any way they need. She’s happy that he has a purpose here. It’s nice to see his eyes crinkle, nice to see his smile, nice to see him bask in the warmth and safety this place provides them…

Lord, how did she make it as many years as she did without him and Steve? No idea. Wait. No, she does know. Family. She had family to help take care of her when her boys couldn’t. Sam should have the exact same because he doesn’t have an option to see his family. She stops, so wrapped up in her head, but then stops and stares at the second hut that she and Steve have started to sleep in.

Huh. Now, there’s an idea.

Just maybe…oh, but she’d need to talk to Steve and Bucky before she thinks about this any more than she already has. Okay, she would probably only need to talk to Bucky because Steve would, without a doubt, be absolutely on board with this. She doesn’t think that Bucky would deny her what she wants if she bats her lashes at him, but then comes the issue of where they would sleep. Damn it, no, she’s ahead of herself. Talk first, plan later. Because she loves and respects her soulmate, she will not follow her usual mantra of: it’s better to ask for forgiveness than ask for permission.

As Quinn slowly approaches Bucky, she notices that Steve is down by the lake, slumped under their own tree, and he’s asleep. “I think there must be part-cat somewhere in him because all he’s done since we’ve been here is soak up the sun and sleep.”

“Go easy on him. I made him do your work.”

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be,” he interrupts softly. His attention keeps on the work at hand, but he casually asks, “So, where were you? You’re back earlier than this, even when you run.”

“I did run, but I stopped to visit Sam. We talked and I crashed there a little bit. Even had a nice nap,” she explains.

“You slept all that time?” She nods wordlessly and he turns back to his work. “Wilson, huh?”

[kaitycole]

A Year After: Sawyer

Summary: What happens in the 365 days since Morgan left Sweetridge for her dream job in Boston.

Word Count: 2629

Pairing: Sawyer x Morgan (F) (Past tense) Sawyer x ???

Rating: PG-13, there’s smut but it’s pretty tamed

Tag List: @desiree—1986​ @kacie-0156​ @shakespeareanwannabe​

A/N: This is the second part which follows Sawyer once Morgan leaves.

P.S. This is prior to me reading Book Two as well as a modified ending to Book One.

“I….”

“Seriously? Did everything that’s happened the last few weeks mean so little to you?”

“No! Sawyer, I couldn’t say goodbye because the last few weeks have meant everything to me! All last night, I kept trying to find the right moment to tell you, but every time…I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

Sawyer shakes his head repeatedly, “I just don’t believe it. You could’ve said something when we snuck off, before we…we…”

He doesn’t finish his statement, he just turns away from her, hopping back up on his horse.

“Sawyer…”

“Hope that job gives you everything you want, Morgan.”

She watches as he taps the horse’s side, causing his horse to start walking back up to the ranch. Getting back in the car, she looks back at the Oakley’s, Cliff patting his son’s shoulder as he walks into the house.

I’m doing the right thing, right? This is what I’ve been working towards for years.

“Alright Spike, let’s go.” She looks over to at the cactus, but for some reason she gets the feeling that if it could, it would give her a disapproving look.

Fall

“What did you expect, Sawyer? She was just passin’ through and you barely knew each other.” Duke starts on his lecture as Sawyer aggressively shovels hay in the barn.

It has been three months since Morgan left, taking that fancy schmancy job in Boston, leaving the Montana gang behind her. But based off Sawyer’s behavior, you’d have thought that she left yesterday. Duke has never seen his brother this low over a girl before, sure he had a few interests in high school that ended, but this was different.

He props the shovel up against the wall before sitting on the floor. He runs his hands through his hair after sitting his hat on his knee.

“I guess I just thought she meant what she said.”

“I know it’s hard, but it does get easier, Sawyer.”

“Yeah, I’ve been hearing that a lot lately.” Standing up, he kicks the ground before walking out of the barn, not really feeling any better from his brother’s version of a pep talk.

Later that night, Sawyer let’s Juliette and Curly convince him to join their bonfire. Dallas and Jo are already there when they finally walk up.

“Hey y’all!” Juliette says as they all sit around the fire, seeing Sawyer looking at the spot that had been Morgan’s not so long ago.

“Are you excited for Smalltown, USA to come?” Jo says, trying to break the awkward silence.

“I think it will be a big thing for Sweetridge. Help put us more on the map,” Curly shrugs.

“What about you, Sawyer?”

“If it’s fixin’ to end like the last time a stranger came here, stayed and then just up and left, I think I’ll pass.” He pushes himself up and walks away.

“Morgan leaving really tore him up, didn’t it?” Jo asks as Juliette nods.

“I’ve never seen him this upset before, but you can’t blame him. Her leaving threw us all for a loop.”

“Should one of us go talk to him?” Curly asks, hating seeing a friend so upset.

“He’s not ready for help. But when he is, he’ll come askin’.”

*                      *

He finds himself driving with no real destination. Constantly flipping through the stations to try and find something to stop on. Every song so far has been one they listened to, reminded him of her or that she loved.

I've changed the presets to my truck,

                    So those old songs don't sneak up.

                                            But they still find me

                                                                   And remind me

                                                                                Yeah you come back that easy

He slams on his breaks, pulling his truck over to the side of the road before he slams his palms against the steering wheel. He assaults the steering wheel some more, before he screams, “Fuck!”

Sawyer takes a deep breath, pulling himself together even though the tears on his cheeks show that he’s actually falling apart.

“Come back Morgan, come back to me,” his voice is low, almost a whisper, “Please.” His voice cracks as a sob escapes.

Winter

The Oakley’s, Mendoza’s and friends are all gathered together, watching their episode of the reality TV show.

“We can clearly see who the main character of this episode is,” Juliette jokes, nudging Sawyer’s shoulder with her knee since he was sitting on the floor in front of her.

“I’m just flaunting what my Momma gave me,” he playfully shrugs.

“I really hope we don’t get an influx of people moving in. I’d hate for the smalltown charm to be taken over.” Asha says, “Tourists I’m fine with. Residents, not so much.”

“I can agree with that,” Cliff said.

“You think Morgan is watching this?” Curly says, slightly hopeful.

Almost everyone gives him a dirty look before hearing Sawyer sigh, “If she was ever the girl I thought I knew, I’d say she is. She has to miss y’all.”

Juliette rubs his shoulder, “She misses you too, Sawyer.”

He shrugs, standing up, “Yeah, I don’t know about all that. ‘Scuse me, I need some air.”

Juliette follows Sawyer outside, “She’d be a fool not to think about you.”

He shakes his head, “The only fool is me, thinking that what she and I had was anything more than some fling.”

She wraps her arms around him, pulling him into a hug. Their friendship was the perfect solace for Sawyer, Juliette didn’t demand anything back but for his support when she needed it and help when she found herself in trouble.

He winces, her brow knits as she gently slides his shirt up, revealing dark purple bruises, “Ohmygod! Sawyer what is that!”

“Looks like a bruise to me,” was not the proper response he learned when she swatted his arm, “I got roughed up training for the rodeo.”

“What!?! I didn’t know you were training.”

“I just needed something to do to get her out of my head.”

“By the looks of this, she’s still in your head.” Her fingertips gently rub over the bruises.

He leans down, pressing his forehead to the top of her head. He takes a deep breath, inhaling her scent. They’ve never walked so close to the edge before. They were friends, that’s all. Sure, they were each other’s better half, but that’s just what best friends right?

“Jules ,” he whispers as he pulls her chin up towards him. He presses his lip to her, trying to find comfort, find what he’s been missing since Morgan left, but he doesn’t.

“Sawyer,” she pushes him away slightly. Looking at his face, she sees pure guilt. She places a hand on his cheek, giving him a gentle smile.

“I’m sorry.” He kicks the dirt at his feet.

“I’m not mad, but that isn’t how you’re gonna get over this.”

“I know.” He shoves his hands in his pockets.

She loops her arm with his, “Let’s go drink, huh? Oh, and Sawyer?”

“Yeah?”

“You ain’t half bad at kissing.”

Spring

“And the winner is Dick Mullagen, with a score of 86!” The crowd is a mix of cheering and boos after the announcer give the name of the winner.

“That’s a bunch of horse manure if you ask me,” Curly says, “He had that one in the bag!”

“Hey, here he comes,” Jo says as Sawyer walks over to the group.

“Just need a little more practice, is all,” Cliff says, patting his son on the back of his shoulder, “I’m still proud of you, son.”

“Thanks dad.” Sawyer smiles, it’s the first sincere smile he’s worn since Morgan left.

“Hey Oakley,” Dick yells from behind him, “I’d say better next time, but we all know I’ll win.”

Sawyer rolls his eyes.

“Do you think his mother knew he was going to be a total dick or that he became a dick because that’s his name?” Dallas asks, causing the whole group to erupt in laughter.

*                      *

“You done training for the day, Oakley?”

He pulls on Dolly’s harness, stopping her before looking over at Juliette. She was carrying a pitcher of lemonade. He hops off his horse and joins her for a glass.

“Refreshing, Mendoza.” He winks at her.

The two have seemingly moved passed the kiss they shared, but each would be lying if they said they weren’t thinking about it. A few touches lingered, cheeks blush and late nights lasted longer.

They weren’t going to overstep the wall between friends and more than friends again because they couldn’t. Not because of the feud or that they were being stubborn. Sawyer knew Juliette, she was his best friend, and she deserved someone who would give her the world. Sawyer knew he couldn’t give her that, right now she’d just be a rebound, something she never deserved to be for anyone.

But he wouldn’t say no to some harmless flirting.

“How are you feeling nowadays? You haven’t mentioned her lately?” Juliette says, sitting next to him.

“Better. I think I just needed to find what made me happy again.” He sighs, “I still miss her though. It just doesn’t hurt as badly.”

“As long as it’s not destroying you, it’s completely normal.”

He sighs, leaning his head on her shoulder, “Is it wrong that if given the chance, I’d want to try again with her?”

“Nope. Not at all. As long as you don’t lose yourself.” She tilts her head, resting it on his, “I’ll be here for you, every step of the way.”

Summer

Sawyer wipes the sweat from his brow before placing his hat back on. Dolly trotted up to him, nudging him with her snout.

“You want a treat, girl?” Sawyer chuckles.

“Neiigghh!” The horse exclaims before chopping down on the carrot Sawyer holds out for her.

“We have another busy day today, Dolly.”

The horse’s demeanor changes, her ears duck down and she shakes her head.

“I know girl. But you’ll get extra carrots, how’s that?” Sawyer rubs the mare’s neck. She seems okay with this exchange and trots off before he can change the deal.

Shaking his head, he laughs before he hears a high pitch squeal and turns to see Brit. He puts on a smile, not his typical charming one, but a smile nevertheless.

“Sawyer!” She throws her arms around his neck, pulling him close to her.

“Hey Brit. You ready?”

“Of course!” She steps back and does a twirl, “Like my outfit?”

Sawyer looks down the slender blonde’s outfit, it was once again not an appropriate one, but she never listened to him. She has on a strappy short sundress with brand new cowboy boots. Clearly, they were bought when she first met Sawyer. Her long blonde hair was braided and tossed to the side.

“You look nice, Brit.” He bites the inside of his lip. Sawyer gathers up a horse for her and whistles for Dolly to join them.

After exerting little effort, she pokes out her lip and stomps her foot, “Sawyeerrr!” She whines, “I need help!”

He walks over to her, holding the top of the saddle and has his hand on her back, “Just step up and then swing your leg over.”

“Yay! I did it!” She squeals.

“You sure did,” he walks over to Dolly, who just stares at him. He lowers his voice, “oh hush.”

Once he is on Dolly, the two of them begin riding around the field.

*                      *

“I really enjoyed today, Sawyer,” Brit says before they stop and he hops off.

“I’m glad that you did. You’re getting a lot better.” He places his hand on her lower back to help her get down.

“I’m even better at riding in other ways,” she gives him a flirtatious smile as his face turns completely red.

“Now Miss Brit, that’s no way for a lady to talk.”

She tosses her head back, laughing, “If you’d let me, I’d show you I’m not lady.” She places her hand on his arm, letting it linger against his muscles.

“Same time tomorrow, Cowboy?”

“Same time tomorrow,” he tips his hat towards her before she walks away from him.

Reaching down, he grabs a carrot for each mare before he hears Curly yell, “Morgan, wait!”

He snaps his head in their direction, “Morgan?” He drops the carrot, much to Dolly’s dismay and runs after her.

“Morgan! Morgan, stop!” He shouts, pushing himself to run faster. “Wait!” He hits him palms on the hood of her car, almost daring her to drive off.

“Sawyer, move please.”

“Not until you talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to say,” her voice cracks, the tears falling.

“Get out of the car, please.”

“Just move, let me go.”

“Get out of the car, dammit!”

With a small huff, she gets out of the driver’s side before he walks over and stands in front of her.

“Don’t you have some blonde to get back to,” her voice is sharp.

He chuckles, “You mean Brit? Jealous?”

“As if. She looks as smart as that fence post.”

He chuckles again before explaining to her what Brit was doing at the ranch. That ever since Smalltown, USA aired the episode on Sweetridge, that tons of people came to the Oakley ranch for horseback riding lessons. How his brother sold him out since the women would pay extra for Sawyer to teach them.

She looked up at him completely embarrassed, her face burning red while her mouth once again went dry.

“I’m sure that’s not why you came back here though.” He has one hand pressed against the car by her head while the other hangs by his side “Why’d you come back, Morgan?”

Sawyer would be lying if he said he wasn’t glad she was back. That he had dreamed of this moment for a whole year now. But he was trying so hard to not let himself go there, he couldn’t go through that pain again.

“You.” Her voice in low, raw from the emotions flooding over her.

He leans into her, a huge smile on his face, “What was that?”

Looking up, she catches the look in his eye. It was the same look she’s had since leaving Boston the second time. She wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him into her because she presses her lips to his. He wraps his arms around her waist, pushing her into him, deepening the kiss.

“Sawyer,” she moans, feeling him kiss down her neck.

“Oh, get a room, would ya!” Curly and Juliette yell at the couple.

“That’s not a bad idea,” she winks as he picks her up, “Then let’s go.”

*                      *

Morgan has her head resting on Sawyer’s chest, one of his arms wrapped around her. They lay there, wrapped in nothing but each other and a thin sheet.

“Morgan,” his breathing is slow, she swore he had fallen asleep.

“Yes?”

“What about Boston?” He feels her stiffen next to him, “I can’t do this again if you’re just gonna leave.”

She sits up, looking over at him, “I quit.”

“You quit?”

“I left Boston for good. I quit my job. I came here…for you. For us.” She takes a deep breath, “That is, if you’ll take me back.”

He runs his finger through his hair as he sits up, “Morgan, I…I don’t want you to regret leaving Boston.”

“I went there, I was miserable without you.” She straddles his lap, “I want to be here. With you.”

He chuckles as she reaches over and placing his black hat on her head, “What on earth are you doing?”

“If I’m going to stay here, I think I need a refresher course on riding,” she winks just before he pulls her into his chest and kisses her, “And I hear you’re the perfect teacher.”

[ladyideal]

State Pride

Pairing: Jim Kirk x Reader

Word Count: 1969

Warnings: 1 smartass and a lot of fluff

Summary: During shore leave on Earth, you and Jim were invited to be judges for a cooking reality show. So you and Jim enjoyed yourself.

A/N: I just realized that this is my second attempt at writing Jimmy boy, and both didn’t turn out too badly. I’ve been watching both Chopped, Masterchef, and some of Hell’s Kitchen. Y’know, maybe I’ll do this again as an AU some other time. Also, I didn’t name the chefs, so enjoy it with whomever you want. (Have to try writing Gordan Ramsay one day.)

“Jim, tell me again why we are here?” You pouted as he swung open a door for you. 

“We’re here to inspire others in more ways than one. The chefs need some inspiration, and I agreed to help them out when we came back for shore leave.” Your fiancé replied, nudging you forward so that hee too could enter the building. 

“This is shore leave, Jim,” You grumbled anyways. “Not a fly around the world to inspire others leave.”

“All in good time, doll. I’ll make it up to you,” Jim kissed your forehead. “Now come on, we don’t want to be late.”

Once the production team deemed your and Jim fit to be on camera, you frowned again at him, linking your arm through his. It was three years with him, and there was no one else you’d rather be. Sure, you had to fend yourself a couple times from his many exes, but you knew where Jim’s heart was at. There had been couple ups and downs as expected, but the famous Starfleet Captain finally settled down with you by his side. 

You were in love. 

“You ready, Y/N?” Jim turned to you, gaze sweeping over your features and straying for a moment on your lips.

“I don’t see any other choice,” You shrugged, smirking at him. Might as well make the best of the current circumstances.

“Come on, smartass,” was all you got before you were towed towards the grounds where the competition was held. 

As you stepped out, you grinned easily as the sun’s warmth radiated out, the hot breeze singing between your strands of hair, and a slight touch of clouds up in the sky. This was Earth as you knew it. It was home, and home was where you would rather be for the moment. As Jim walked by your side on the gravel, you could hear a loud voice not far from the circle of trees.

“Please help me welcome our special guests from some of Starfleet’s famous officers, Captain Kirk and Commander Y/L/N.” 

You and Jim waved as you approached from the sidelines. Three judges on one side, and two teams of home cooks on the other in front of their kitchen appliances.  

Red and blue. Never gets old. 

“Hi everybody,” You waved. Jim echoed along, beaming as some squealed at the sight of your fiancé. 

Jim was an eye catcher, you knew this. You’d never really let it get to you though. He knew better. 

“ Captain James Kirk of the Starfleet’s vessel the USS Enterprise, along with his world acclaimed engineer and fiancee, Commander Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Thank you for having us,” You politely returned, shaking each of their hands after Jim did. 

“Oh my god!” A home cook from the center left exclaimed. “Can I hug you? You’re my son’s hero.”

You blushed, but stepped off the platform with your arms open wide. 

Maggie was the name on her apron. 

“My boy Richard will freak out about this when he learns that I hugged you! I hugged Commander Y/L/N,” She spoked, briefly enveloping you in a hug.

“It’s my pleasure,” You replied, letting go of her. When you turned around to walk back to where Jim and the judges were, you noticed that your fiancee was giving you a knowing smile. 

Turning back to view the cooks, you and Jim smiled warmly at them. “We’re excited to see what each of y’all make and be able to plate for us today. As for the mystery box in front of us, this signifies the incredible relationship I’ve had over the long years with Y/N. It’s been a wild ride out in the black, and we still have many more memories to come. We’re grateful for Starfleet to let us come home for our three weeks of break.” 

“As you’ve all known about, Starfleet officers sacrifice the comforts of their home and family in order for the task of exploring what’s out there. Today, you will all be working with the ingredients under this mystery box in pairs, and be one step towards top 3.” 

Jim gently nudged you forward, and you briefly scowled at him. Trust him to make you be the one to open it. 

Placing both hands on opposite ends of the box, you gracefully lifted the wooden box upwards. An abundance of sweet potatoes were stacked neatly on one side. On the other, a colorful array of onions crowded each other in a stunning display of ingredients. A bowl of steaming hot chili sat in the center, and a plate of a beautiful pork tenderloin

“Iowa, the sweet potato and the pork. Texas, onions and chili. All iconic food and ingredients found in each state. In the back, we have prepared for you a large array of fully stocked ingredients needed for the challenge. You are tasked today to make a three course meal for our homesick guests we have here. The winning team will be safe from elimination, and the team that loses will go straight into another pressure test.”

“You have 60 minutes to complete this. Are you ready?”

“Yes chef!”

“Your time starts... Now!”

You raised an eyebrow at the amount of time given. Within one hour, you wouldn’t be able to pull off one course much less three. Out of your friends and Jim’s, probably only Bones could pull something like that off. You briefly wondered how he was doing over in Georgia with his daughter and family. 

As the chefs went down to speak with the two teams, you turned to Jim with that same eyebrow look. 

“Don’t you think that you’re around Bones a little too much there, Y/N?” Your fiancé spoke, gently nudging you towards the direction where an elegant long table was set up. Nine seats were situated around flutes of champagne for each one. “It’s uncanny.”

“This for everyone?” Your jaw dropped at how gorgeous and simplistic the table arrangements were. “For us? Jim, we’re not even married yet, and this is already so beautiful.”

Jim laughed, and pulled the chair out for you like the real gentleman he was.With a side smirk, you sat down in the offered chair. Los Angeles, California. City of Angels. Not much greenery around in such a vast metroplex, so it was quite an astonishment when you were greeted by open grounds. 

“Good ol’ California,” You mumbled, taking in the scenery as much as you could. 

“You want the wedding here?” Jim frowned. “I thought-.”

“I just want to marvel how beautiful it is here. It still isn’t enough to change our venue in Iowa though,” You rolled your eyes playfully at him as he sat across from you. 

“So how long have you two been back home?” One of the chefs sat down on your left, another to the right of Jim, and the other at the head of the table.

“About two days, we hung around San Francisco to get matters done. We’ll be heading to Iowa after this for our wedding in a few weeks,” Your fiancé spoke up. 

“Excited for all this, Commander?” 

You grinned at them. “Excited? I’m just ready for it all to end really.”

You spoke to them how you had to get the venue, the cake, the food, the DJ, the music, the wedding dress, Jim’s tuxedo, all the guests, and all the wedding planning all done on the ship while still having to keep up with work. Duty didn’t pause just because you were going to have a wedding with the famous Captain of the Fleet. 

Oh no, you didn’t have that kind of luxury. 

Thank god everything was all electronic now, but for the most part, you sent the RSVP notices by hand. Writing them all by hand certainly sent you down to the medbay with a sprained wrist and a rather unamused doctor tending to it with a wrap. It was good to have one part of your wedding a little bit old fashioned. After all, you could keep it all as memories.

“Needless to say, we never thought it was going to take almost one year for us to get everything booked and ready,” You shook your head with a quiet laugh. “Time and time again, Jim had to double check with Command that we would be even coming home in the first place for leave.”

“Sounds like a whirlwind of deposits and headaches there. Congratulations to the both of you.”

You thanked the chef with a nod, while Jim continued conversing with him. 

“Ah here we go, the servers are here,” The chef spoke up, gaining the attention of everyone seated. “The plate on your left is from the blue team. It is a pistachio crusted pork tenderloin stuffed with bacon and mushrooms, with a side of salad and asparagus from the blue team. To your right, the red team has prepared a herb crusted tenderloin stuffed with caramelized onions and spinach with a side of slaw.”

Your stomach rumbled, and everyone chortled at the sight of your embarrassment..

“Let’s dig in, shall we?” Jim spoke. 

And oh boy was the food delicious. 

Being on a ship the majority of the year, you and the rest of the crew were stuck with replicators. Sure, the presentation and the nutritional count was there, but it was bland. There was no flavor, no salt, no pepper, nothing that could even rival the flavors that you were tasting from both dishes. Shore leave was seldom and spread sparsely apart.

Even during shore leave on a planet or on Risa, the food was nothing compared to the real earthy flavors. If it weren’t for the fact that you didn’ have reliable access to ingredients, you would immediately hop onto one of them, and ask for the recipe. You would bet that Bones wasn’t able to cook to this degree either. 

It was only during the last two courses that you had some trouble with. Blue team’s second course was messy, not at all cleaned cut as it was with their first. However they were redeemed with their last course with the small bowl of chili and some potato chips to the side. Honestly, you nearly melted at the taste of the dish. Briefly looking up, you could see that Jim was feeling the same as you were. 

The red team, however, was flip flopped. The second course was splendid, plating was well. It was their third dish with the onion rings that bothered you the most. Some were unseasoned, and a few were even raw on your plate. It was still a marvelous job well done though, in your opinion, especially under the time pressure.

“I guess this evens up the playing field,” You spoke, dabbing away the mess on the corner of your lips with the napkin. “Jim?”

“It sure does, Y/N,” Jim met your gaze. 

“I think we’ve all agreed on who’s the winning team, yes?” The chef glanced around. Everyone nodded. “Let’s bring the teams over.”

“Charlotte, Maggie, Ryan, and Michael, you’ve all done a superb job in creating a wonderful 3 course meal with the given ingredients. Mistakes were had between both the red team, and the blue team. However as you all might know, there can be only one winner. The winner of this mystery box challenge is,” The chef dramatically pauses. “Will be announced tomorrow.”

Shock.

It was the only evident expression on all four of the contestants. 

“For now, let’s celebrate the job well done with a satisfying lunch, and be able to spend some time with our Starfleet officers,” The chef encouraged the teams to choose a seat, and to raise their glasses.

“To a safe and wonderful break.” 

Glasses clinked against one another. 

Star Trek tags: @mournthewicked Join the taglist!

[retro-rezz-the-est]

The Right Alpha (Drew/Reader/Roman A/B/O smut)

Summary: Just some lovely threesome action with our favorite Samoan and our thicc Scottish bastard (so just pretend that Ro is still on RAW lmao).

Word Count: 6,464 ^^;

Warnings: mentions of a dickbag ex-boyfriend in the beginning, semi-public sex, Drew being a tad bit of a little shit (bc that’s a warning on its own lol), possessiveness, biting/marking, anal and I think that’s it??? Correct me if i’m wrong lmao. Also, this is my first time writing anything AU themed, so feedback is appreciated! :)

(A/N: Here it is, y’all! I’m so sorry this took so long to get out. My brain was just in 1000 different places at once lol. Thank you all so so so so much for 400+ followers, and I can’t tell you all how much I love and appreciate every single last one of you <3. Here’s to 500 and more threesome fic action!)

(Y/n): your name

“Oh, come on!”

“We said no, (Y/n), and that’s final,” Ember chastised you from her seat nearby, her golden irises seeming to flare when the Scot’s name came out of your mouth.

Your eyes went to slits as you turned your head to face her, pulling your leg out from underneath you to let Roman lace up your ring boots. “Well, why don’t you guys like him? He hasn’t done anything to me.”

“Exactly, small fry. He hasn’t,” the Samoan said. “Yet.”

Groaning, you hopped off of the supply crate you sat on and leaned up against the back wall. They never did seem to like seeing anyone get close to you, especially after the whole situation with your asshole of an ex-boyfriend.

You could still hear all of the names he called you, how he kept you away from Ember and Ro for long periods of time, and how he tried to make you wear that fucking collar that read “Omega Bitch” on it…

After that whole fiasco (and after you had to physically pull Ember off of him for cheating on you with some unmated girl he picked up from a bar), they were there to keep you stable and well.

And away from any and all potential partners.

“But, Drew’s different, I think. He seems like a sweet guy.”

The fiery haired woman scoffed, replying, “Yeah, a ‘sweet guy’ who has a record of bagging and shagging Omegas for a quick fuck and then leaving them the very next night for a new score.”

“She’s got a point, (Y/n). Literally everyone on the damn roster knows about his record,” Ro added, coming up to your side and wrapping his arm around your waist. “We just want to protect you after what happened last time.”

“Oh, really? Is that why you always step up to him whenever he gets 10 feet away from me?

Pulling you closer, he rested his chin on top of your head and chuckled, feeling you try to shove him away.

“You know, just because you two are Alphas-”

“And your best friends…”

“-doesn’t mean that you have to shield me from virtually everyone who comes in my path,” you continued, rolling your eyes at her intrusion. “Besides, my true mate is out there somewhere. Are you guys just gonna shield me from them too?”

You felt Roman move away from you just as you saw Ember rise from her own seat.

“Of course not, girl,” she answered, bumping her forehead against yours. “But, it’s just not gonna be him. Believe me, I know these things.”

The three of you shared a laugh and you could feel their unique scents wrap around you. As comforting as it was, you could still feel Roman’s eyes lock onto the back of your head with a strange firmness, almost as if he didn’t want to look away…

“Anyway, you still have to get dressed and prepped for our tag match tonight, Moon, so I suggest you go do that.”

Placing your hands on her shoulders, you turned her around and lightly pushed her in the direction of the women’s locker room, gaining another soft chuckle from her.

“I suppose I have to. Don’t wanna go out to the ring in my sweats,” she commented, letting out a dramatic sigh and walking away.

Placing his forehead to yours, you felt him give you another quick squeeze before letting go. “Kick some Riott Squad ass out there, ya heard?”

“Aye, captain.”

You gave him a mock salute and waved as he too walked off, leaving you alone in the large hallway as echoes of the ongoing Universe bounced off the concrete walls. Pivoting on your heel, you grabbed your leather jacket from the crate behind you and sauntered off, unaware of the large Scotsman’s presence nearby.

A few minutes had passed of you walking over to the stage area to mentally prepare yourself for your match until a whiff of strong whiskey, leather and amber swept itself under your nose.

Oh, fuck me…

“Well, hello there, leannan.” (sweetheart)

You felt the hairs on your arm rise as you slowly turned around to face the large Scot, his feet falling heavily on the ground as he stalked towards you.

“H-Hey there, Drew,” you stammered, feeling your cheeks heat up. “W-What are you d-doing here?”

“I couldn’t help but overhear ya talkin’ ‘bout me with your two… friends… a little while ago and I saw ya gettin’ a little bit flustered,” he said as he continued to walk towards you with a smirk on your face, your feet propelling your body to move backwards.

This dance continued for a quick moment of silence before your back hit a nearby wall and he placed his hands on said wall to keep you there, trapped and in place for him.

Alone.

“You can feel it too, right, lass? Tell me ya can.”

Oh crap, crap, fuck, you thought as you felt his scent cover you like a warm duvet. You could feel yourself getting lightheaded and you mewled, lolling your head to the side.

A deep rumble shook his chest as he took in the sight of the unbitten nape of your neck. “Ah, so you’re unclaimed as well? I can change that one for ya, gaol.” (love)

His body pressed against yours next to the stage area, taking one hand to hold your head and the other to grip your waist. Leaning down, he rested his head in the crook of your neck and took in heavy whiffs of your own lavender, honey and cherry scent.

Should I tell him? Oh god, if I do then Roman will actually kill him. Especially Ember, your mind ran at a million miles an hour when he brushed his nose against the sensitive spot underneath your chin and you sighed contently.

Drew’s hand on your waist began to drift skyward and held you tighter, as if you were going to drift away if he let go. He chuckled and you felt it even through the layers of your ring gear, and you could slowly feel yourself drifting further and further into his touch…

“McIntyre! You get your grimy paws off her right the fuck now!”

Oh shit.

The two of you quickly departed when Ember roared. Her hair began to glow as brightly as her eyes did in that moment, and you swore you could see her teeth get sharp and her nails grow.

“I am so dead,” you murmured to yourself as she booked it over to the two of you at full speed, nearly colliding with the Scottish man when she stopped.

Going toe-to-toe with him, she growled, “If you ever, ever, ever, put your filthy hands on my friend again, I swear on everything that I’ll rip your balls off.”

She scoffed, stepping back to eye him up and down. “And trying to claim her when she’s clearly not your mate? Now that’s just pathetic, even for you, Drew.”

That’s because he is! you mentally screamed at her as she shoved her hand between the two of you and shoved, pulling you away from the wall.

She tugged you towards the stage area and you willingly went with her, despite all of your nerves and inner thoughts telling you otherwise. “Come on, (Y/n). Our match is just about to go on.”

Glancing back at Drew, you frowned a little, seeing his slightly hurt expression and how Ember’s nails left a slight mark on his chest. You sighed, placing a smile on your face anyways and letting Ember lead you two out as her theme began to play overhead.

Getting the win felt good, but pinning Ruby felt even better.

The adrenaline had your blood pumping and had you energized for exactly the length of time it took for you and Ember to get from the ring and back to backstage before everything just left you feeling almost jet lagged.

Walking back into the large hallway, you locked eyes with a solemn McIntyre standing nearby and apparently, the woman next to you had clearly noticed. She bared her teeth and gnashed them at him, making you flinch and grab her wrist to hold her back.

You sped off, towing the female Alpha behind you and occasionally looked back to catch his eyes but just missing him as his own theme started to play. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves, walked through the curtain and oh shit he forgot about him.

Staring daggers at him from inside the ring was a very determined looking Roman Reigns, shoulders squared and all. Drew walked down to the ring eyeing him right back, shucking off his jacket and tossing it into the timekeeper’s area.

He stepped over the ropes and made his slightly shaking hands into fists, feeling his heart race and hearing the bell go off to signal the start of the match. The two of them rushed at each other and grappled for a second, Roman managing to get his head in the crook of his arm.

The match seemed to speed up as Drew was able to corner him against one of the turnbuckles. An odd look that appeared on his face was soon replaced with one of sheer anger when Roman smelled the air around him. Even with the Scot’s hand pressing his face into the ringpost, he still managed to catch a whiff of something familiar…

His Alpha instincts screamed confusion and upset and protect as he felt his eyes dilate. Throwing his elbow into the other man’s chest, he was able to shove him back far enough so he could grip his chin.

“Why do you smell like her, huh?!” he yelled, teeth beginning to extend. “What the hell did you do to her?!”

Confused, Drew thought, Wait, he picked up her scent as well? I thought only true mates cou-

His train of thought was interrupted with an abrupt shove and a rapid clothesline by Roman, making him fall to the ring mat. Standing on shaky legs, he didn’t even see his opponent hit him with his iconic Spear and go for the pin. The match was then over before he could even blink.

The ref raised Roman’s arm in victory before he tore it away in favor of kneeling down to face the fallen Scot. Moving to his ear, he whispered, “Don’t you even think about touching her again, McIntyre. I’m warning you now.”

He got up just as quickly and rolled out of the ring, stalking straight up the ramp and backstage without any hesitation. Roaming the hallways, he finally found his destination and banged on the door.

“(Y/n), open up! We need to talk now!”

“Gimme a second, Ro! I’m almost done packing my stuff!” you threw back, zipping up your duffel bag and hoisting the strap onto your shoulder.

Sitting on a nearby bench, Sasha lifted her head and raised her eyebrows at the Alpha’s insistent door knocking.

“What’s his deal, sis?”

A nervous chuckle suddenly leapt from you as you rubbed the back of your neck. “Well, actually…”

Another loud bang came from the door, startling the hell out of you both. Letting out a breath that you didn’t know you’d been holding in, you shakily made your way to the door and opened it, seeing an angry Roman fresh out of his match.

Sasha slipped in behind you and looked up, seeing how straight-faced he was before letting out an “I’ll see you later, (Y/n)” and leaving the locker room. As the violet haired woman’s figure turned the corner, he gripped your forearm and shoved you back through the door.

Quickly locking it behind him, he turned back to you rather slowly, giving you time to access him. His hands were clenched into fists, a vein was faintly popping out of his neck and his breathing was very rugged.

“Why did Drew smell like you tonight?”

A pin could drop and you would hear it from how quiet the space had gotten, a light hum from the lights above and his own breathing being the only noises heard. “Is there something you want to tell me, (Y/n)?”

You placed your duffel back onto the bench behind you and looked down, folding your hands together. “Well… he may have kinda… cornered me… in the hall before my match?”

“He what?!” Roman roared, making you take a few steps back.

“But, Ember was there to get him away from me and set him in his place… but not before he scented me.”

That seemed to hit him harder than anything as the two of you went quiet again for a heartbeat more. It was enough for his eyes to dilate a lot more and for him to steadily make his way to you.

Just like with Drew, you soon found yourself chest to chest with a hulking Alpha against the wall nearest to you, panting slightly with anticipation as your own eyes grew wide and the Omega in you screamed for him.

Wait, what? you asked your brain, confused as to why he had the same effect on you as Drew did. This has never happened before.

Well, he’s never been this protective over you. Not since…

Your mind shot a blank when you felt his wet hair brush against your skin, igniting metaphorical sparks as he moved his head. He held your biceps in his large hands and just like Drew, he placed his head in the crook of your neck and sighed.

Deciding to savor this moment of privacy yourself, you rested your head on his, feeling him run his jaw up and down your exposed neck. Instantly, you were hit with a wave of him; a feeling of calm and familiar rolled over your body and you smiled.

But this was different. This was something… more…

As the Alpha’s usual coconut, sandalwood and ocean breeze scent filled your lungs, your mind drifted to images and dreams of you two lounging on a beach somewhere in each other’s arms, laughing at nothing while you sip a strawberry daiquiri as the sun set on a clear sky…

No… it couldn’t be… you couldn’t have…

Could you?

Was this even possible?

You let out a squeak as he got even closer, the hardness of his vest pressing you harder against the wall. Hands already placed on his shoulders, you felt his chest rumble with a faint delight when you responded to his touches.

As quickly as the image popped into your head, it seemed to fade just as fast when he let you go and made you exhale from the long contact. He gently took your chin in his hand and raised your head to look at him, staring you square in the eye.

“I don’t want you smelling like him anymore, (Y/n),” he uttered, his eyes dilating back to normal and going soft. “If he tries that shit again, you come to me, ok?”

Without waiting for your response, he strode over to the door, unlocked it and made his exit, leaving you stunned and your body wanting all at the same time.

What the hell am I gonna do?

For the next week, Roman wouldn’t leave your side, not even for a second. Even Ember started to notice the near possessiveness the hulking Alpha was demonstrating and quite frankly, it freaked the hell out of her.

Hell, he even had the nerve to walk you down the ramp and accompany you to your rematch against Ruby dressed like a damn bouncer that following Monday, despite you continuously telling him not to. As the bell rang and the two of you went after each other, you could still feel his piercing gaze watch every move you made.

Everything was going well for you so far. You had managed to get Ruby’s shoulder’s down for the pin, and the ref’s hand was slamming down on the mat.

1!

2!

You waited for the three-count, but it never came because of the sound of blaring bagpipes that was Drew’s theme. Glancing towards the ring gave you the vision of a very pissed off Scottish Alpha who was currently focused on one Roman Reigns.

What the hell is he doing here? you mused, hefting yourself off of the Riott Squad member. Moving your gaze to them, you saw that they were engaged in a heated argument, standing face to face with fingers being pointed. One thing led to another and soon enough, both men were throwing fists in each other’s faces.

“What the hell are you two doing?! Stop!” you screamed at them, hoping that they’d hear you.

But they didn’t.

You didn’t see Ruby get off her back, and you certainly didn’t see the incoming kick she landed on the back of your neck. With you dazed, she quickly hit you with a roll-up and caught the three-count.

Her theme stated to play as she rolled out of the ring and rushed up the ramp, not wanting to see the outcome of your situation. As it stopped, you were left kneeling in the ring, shocked and tugging at the ends of your hair.

Small tears welled up in the corner of your eyes as you eyed the two men at ringside. Your wolf screamed anger and hurt, and you just wanted to get away from those two bastards. You got yourself up and stepped out of the ring ropes just in time to shove past both of them to walk backstage.

What was all that about? Do they know about… that already? Am I completely and utterly screwed. Do they know that I have to choose?

Every step towards the women’s locker room felt like a solid punch to your heart as thoughts kept raging in your mind, keeping you on your toes when you turned a corner.

“(Y/n)!”

Shit.

You stopped dead in your tracks in the middle of the hallway, silently cursing that there was no one around who could help you. The sound of heavy footsteps echoed on the walls and headed in your direction, but you couldn’t move yourself to look at them.

“Shit, small fry, we didn’t mean to-”

“‘M sorry this màthair (motherfucker) wasn’t-”

Their barrage of word vomit made you pivot on your heel, and you could feel your eyes begin to glow brighter and dilate more.

“Will the both of you please shut the fuck up?!”

And that line did it for them.

Sighing, you dropped your head into the palm of your hand and took a deep breath. No need to lose your shit over this, (Y/n). Just calm down.

“Ro,” you resumed, “i know you care about me and I know you want to protect me, but you don’t have to hover around my shoulder 24/7! I need space to breathe, you know.”

Turning to the Scot, you pointed a finger at him and said, “And you, Drew, you don’t have to step up to my friends just because they want what’s best for me. You have to see that. Now, can you both please tell me what’s wrong without killing each other in the process?”

Both men’s heads spun to the side to face the other, teeth bared and hands at the ready.

“I don’t want him fucking touching my mate!” they both roared at the same time.

Boom.

…

…

…

The lack of sound was deafening when you asked, “...your what? Roman, how long have you known?”

“Ever since you came to me with Ember after the situation with your ex,” the Samoan in front of you answered, shoving his hair back and glancing back at you. “That’s why I didn’t want you to get close with the Scot.”

“Oh, that’s bullshit and you know it, Reigns!”

“What did you say to me?” he demanded, pressing up against the other Alpha.

“I said it’s bullshit,” he smirked, looking down at him. “I’ve locked onto her scent for months now. I had a feelin’ about it, and I confirmed that last week.”

“So you cornered her to prove your damn point? Is that why I smelled her on you during our match last week?!”

They both turned to face you, making you shudder under their intense gazes. Drew gestured to you, saying, “Maybe we should let the lady decide for herself.”

What?

“So, lass, which one of us is tellin’ the truth?”

You wanted to shrink down into your skin in that moment. You had to tell them. It was the moment of truth.

But… would they accept it?

“Um… here’s the thing…” you started, gingerly holding the back of your neck. “I haven’t been the most… honest… person with you two either.”

Roman crossed his arms, confused. “What do you mean, (Y/n)?”

“Well, both of you seem to draw the same reaction out of me, since you both had scented me last week, so I think that you both are my mates.”

As you finished, you let out a soft nervous giggle, but the two Alphas in front of you weren’t laughing. The aura in the hall felt like all the air was sucked out of it in that one moment, the tension being so thick that you could cut it with a butter knife if you could.

After what seemed like hours of nothing being said, Roman piped up. “Why didn’t you say anything, small fry?”

“Are you kidding me?! You two try to murder each other on a weekly basis, so imagine what would’ve happened if I told you, or you for that matter,” you countered, looking back at Drew, “that your rival was also my mate.”

“She’s got a point there,” he pointed out.

“Shut up, asshole.”

You uttered, “This is exactly what I was talking about. We can’t even have a decent conversation without you two throwing jabs at each other.”

“How does this even work, (Y/n)?” Roman questioned, his eyes softening.

You shrugged as you placed your hands on your hips. “I don’t know the fucking biology of being an Omega. All I know is that you two are my mates and that I get super turned on when I’m around you.”

Oh fuck, I didn’t mean to say that, you thought, cursing the Omega in you wanting to jump their bones. You quickly slapped a hand over your mouth to keep more inner thoughts from coming out, but it was already too late.

Both men raised a brow at the comment, Drew chuckling at your newfound embarrassment.

“So what you’re sayin’ is…. is that you’re turned on right now?”

Don’t nod, don’t nod, don’t do fucking anything.

But, your brain and your nerves had other plans for the night as you nodded in agreement. He walked the short distance to you and cupped your jaw, drawing you to face his eyes. The Scot noticed how you weren’t fighting him off and he chuckled at your submission.

“That’s good, then.”

And with that, he drew you up to his waiting mouth and planted a hard kiss to your own, leaving you weak in the knees. His lips claimed yours in a heated dance that left you wanting - no, craving - more.

You couldn’t help but trail after his mouth when he slowly pulled away, leaving more than an ache between your thighs. Roman growled, stepping forward to handle him himself but you thrusted your arm out, holding him back.

“Leave him, Ro,” you told him, trying to keep your own body up on your shaky legs. “I’m fine.”

“You heard the caileag (girl), Reigns. She’s into it.” A lewd grin slid onto his face when you voiced your approval. His hands continued their path from his sides and onto your body, gripping your hips and moving you closer.

A minute passed before you asked, “So, what do we do now?”

“Well,” Drew spoke, his voice dripping faintly with lust, “I say we take our activities somewhere more… private.”

You shivered, seeing his teeth grow and feeling his scent start to seep into your skin. You were momentarily snapped out of your drifting by Roman, who cleared his throat.

“Is this ok with you, (Y/n)? I don’t want him trying to force you to do anything,” he said, maneuvering himself behind you and running his palms up and down your arms.

You mock him, “Is this ok with me? Have you ever seen the two of you? Of course I’m good with this.”

Drew roared with laughter, hoisting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. “Where should we take this now, (Y/n)?”

“I feel like I’ll explode if I have to wait any longer and frankly, I don’t think you can wait either,” you chided as you ground down against both of their bulges, making them groan.

“Alright, then. So let’s just continue it here.”

Wait, what?

As soon as you opened your mouth, Drew slammed his lips back onto yours, claiming them as his once again. His tongue slipped in-between your lips to entangle itself with your own as Roman began to pepper kisses along the back and down your neck. The Samoan then bit down harshly, pulling a moan from you as he sucked a dark mark into the skin.

Surprisingly, through the feeling of getting drunk off of two Alphas trying to get in your pants, your logistical side kicked in.

Wrenching your lips from the man in front of you, you wondered, “Wait a minute, what if someone sees us?”

“They won’t. We’ll make sure of it.”

Roman’s voice piped up from behind you, his hands moving to your hips and switching their place with the Scot’s. He continued to place love bites on the column of your neck while Drew’s lips left your own and began to trail down your jaw.

Planting a final bite to your bottom lip, he moved down to the side of your neck that Roman hadn’t marked up yet and setting down his own claims on you. Your skin was ablaze with a burning need for something to happen, and you guys had just started.

You wanted them to bite you, mark you. Show the whole world that you had been blessed with two burly Alpha males.

Tilting your head back, you whined and pressed Drew’s head into your skin to voice what you couldn’t say. His chest rumbled with a caged laughter, slightly humbled by your enthusiasm.

“We’ll get to that soon, nighean bheag (baby girl). Just be patient.”

His mouth trailed from down your neck and hit the top of your chest, licking and biting at any patch of skin he could reach. He reached up to cup your breast, fondling it briefly before pulling down your ring top and eyeing your hardened nipple. He sucked it into his mouth and made you tug on his hair, holding his head still while Roman reached into your top to massage the other one.

The two men seemed to work together in a weird way you hadn’t seen before as when Drew finished working on one of your nipples, Roman would move on to pinch and tug at it when he moved to the other. It made your lower belly go warm and made you smile a little.

As he continued to make his way down, Ro made it his effort to keep you entertained up top with him whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

“You’re so beautiful like this, Omega,” he murmured before softly placing his lips on yours. “I can smell your needy pussy from up here. But, I’m gonna let him have a taste first.”

You felt your face grow warm and chose to focus your vision on the wall behind Drew, but they both weren’t having that tonight.

A sharp pinch on your thigh through your fishnets brought your attention back to the man who was currently on his knees in front of you. “Ya better not be spacing out on us, leannan. We need you t’ see how ready you are for us.”

His accent was muddy with lust as he gripped the sides of your ring shirts and pulled them down, you toeing them off when they reached your ankles. A ripping sound followed thereafter when he put a large hole in the crotch of your tights to expose the black cotton panties you wore.

“Mmm,” he moaned, pressing his nose in the apex of your thighs and inhaling deeply, “ya smell absolutely divine, lass. We’ve barely touched ya and you’re already drippin’ wet.”

Barely? Um, the various hickies on my neck beg to differ.

You held the catty remark back just as he ran his fingers up and down where your slit was, causing you to buck your hips in his face.

“Roman, if ya wouldn’t mind…?”

He smirked, moving his rough hands to your thighs. “Gladly.”

He held them tight and spread them, hoisting you up to keep them apart. He was strong enough to hold you there - and more than likely enough to do some other things to you - and that made a shiver run down your spine.

A breeze hit your bare lower lips when Drew dragged your panties to the side and stared at your juices shining in the low light.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about. You’re soaked, (Y/n). I wonder if I just…”

The sentence trailed off into nothing as he leaned forward to lick a stripe from the bottom of your lips to the top, spreading them to circle your clit with his thumbs. A loud moan almost left you, but you placed your hand over your mouth to muffle the noise.

Roman tutted at you, biting your earlobe and tugging on it. “Oh no you don’t, baby girl. You’re gonna let the entire arena know who’s making you feel this good. So, take that hand from your mouth now.”

Slowly drawing your hand away, you felt Drew blow on your clit and suck it into his mouth, suctioning his lips around the small but. This time, you didn’t try to hide the noise that you let out, your Omega side going crazy at the thought of being pleasured by your true mates.

He moved his fingertips down your labia and went straight for your hole, sliding a thick one in and groaning at your tightness. The vibrations ran from your core up and you tried to wrap your thighs around his head but Roman’s grip prevented you from doing so.

He peeked over your shoulder and groaned at the sight, rutting his hips into your ass. He saw the Scottish Alpha slide two more of his fingers into you and felt you squirm in his hold, the sight making him grow even harder. Shutting his eyes, he bent his head back and banged it against the wall behind him but not before he heard Drew call his name.

“Spread her ass, Roman. I have an idea.”

The world seemed to tilt on its axis when you heard that. Even in your arousal fueled daze, you managed to choke out a moan and grind your hips down on the Scot’s fingers.

His brows furrowed, picking his head back up to face you. “This alright with you, (Y/n)?”

Oh Roman, always the protective one, you thought when you nodded, your nerves igniting at the thought.

That was all the approval Drew needed before the man behind you grasped your ass and spread your cheeks, exposing your back hole to his waiting eyes. Gliding his wet fingers from your core and to your ass made you shudder at the sudden emptiness but groan at the newfound wet feeling.

Looking up at you, a soft grin was in place of his usual cocky smirk as he kissed the exposed skin of your thighs and slid his index finger into you.

You were pretty sure that groans you two made that second were ricocheting off the walls at that point with your nails currently biting into the skin of Roman’s arms. One hand flew to the back of Drew’s head when he moved his tongue back to your clit, flicking it in time with the thrusts of his fingers.

The coil in your core grew tighter and tighter with each passing moment and with each finger Drew added to your ass. Three fingers later, you were trembling in Roman’s hold and willing yourself not to cum all over his face. Luckily, he withdrew his fingers just in time to sit back and watch your own slick drip down from your empty cunt and into your gaping ass.

The erotic sight made him squeeze his cock through his ring trunks, releasing a pent up moan from within him. As he rose, the sight of your wrecked form with marks covering your neck and shoulders seemed to have an effect on both men. A silent agreement between the two lead Roman to place you on the ground shakily as they removed their pants to expose their hard members to you.

Drawing your eyes from the floor, they stuck to their cocks, inches on inches of throbbing Alpha that made your legs even more shaky and your core throb with anticipation.

“So, who’s getting where, boys?” you asked, chuckling slightly with how drunk you were on both of them.

Side eyeing each other, they nodded and each grabbed one of your arms, spinning you around so that your front faced Roman and that your back hit Drew’s chest.

“I’m gonna need more of that tight ass of yours, love,” he responded, desire dripping from his tongue. He slapped your ass then, the sound bouncing off the walls and your ears. He snickered when you ground back against him as if to ask for more, but he just lifted you up and wrapped your legs around Roman instead.

“Hey there, small fry.”

The softness that had lingered in his eyes before was soon overtaken by dilated pupils when roman held onto your hips and Drew spread your cheeks to expose your hole. Both men angled themselves against you, causing your lower half to quiver, and they slowly slid into you.

You couldn’t form into words the feeling of being filled at both ends. When Drew popped into your ass, you shut your eyes and stars formed behind your lids. They both began their slow thrusting to get you warmed up, but your whimpers and whines almost made them lose their cool a few times.

“Harder, please, I need it.” Your needy Omega side was starting to come forth, and you bounced on both men as best you could to achieve that feeling.

“To hell with it,” Drew growled, slapping your ass once more before pistoning his hips into yours, beckoning Roman to do the same.

“Yes, yes!” you sobbed as they set a brutal pace, feeling their cocks rub against each other through your wall’s thin tissue. The sound of skin slapping on skin was deafening and you felt your eyes roll into the back of your head when Roman hit your spot dead-on.

Tilting your head back again, you rested it on Drew’s broad shoulder and rocked your hips forward when your Samoan started lapping at your breasts. Sweat began to drip down and off of all of you, none of you caring anymore whether someone heard you fucking or not. You felt their knots start to swell underneath you, causing you to push back harder against them. They both roared at this, each of them going back down to give your neck more hickies.

“We’re not gonna knot ya, (Y/n),” Drew panted, his voice hot and heavy in your ear. “We’ll save that for another time.”

“Yeah, a time when we’re actually in a bed,” Roman added, chuckling at your expression.

You clenched down on both of them and they groaned, holding back their own impending release for when you came. You actually weren’t that far off from them because the coil in your core seemed to snap when they looked at each other, eyes dark and teeth sharp. They looked down at your bite ridden neck and bit down harshly, piercing the skin and marking you.

That’s what did it for you.

When your slick gush onto Roman’s cock in fervish, he spilled his own load inside you as he gripped your already bruise covered hips. Drew was the last to fall over that edge, shooting his hot cum deep inside your ass and revelling in the feeling.

The three of you panted and slumped against each other in a mess of tangled limbs and sweaty bodies. The wall against Roman’s back would’ve been a blessing if he had his shirt off but for now, he’d just enjoy the moment for the time being.

A few seconds had passed of you all being connected when you said, “I don’t think I can walk for the rest of the night.”

Your cheeks were flushed to oblivion, and you felt like you were fucked six ways from Sunday. Still holding you, Roman suggested, “Maybe we should take a breather for a minute. Or five. Or fifty.”

“I like the sound of that,” the Scot agreed, nuzzling your hair and smiling. His accent was still thick but you still managed to hear everything he said.

You mind began to drift off as you felt them lap at the bonding marks they made on you. Even though your entire body ached and you were probably going to waste an entire bottle of concealer to cover up your various bruises, you couldn’t be more happy.

You continued to drink in the mixture of the warm and cool scents around you, letting it fill your lungs and enter your heart. It’s be like this every day with them, hopefully.

Your true mates.

~~Tag List: @writinglionqueen @writing-reigns @i-have-saracasm @yaint-me @calum-hoodwinked-me @missmoxy @gold--gucciempress @melinated-moon-goddess @meishaabae @luciddrreamss @neversatisfiedgirl @the-carter-mob-don @aj-mac21 @crossfitjesusinskinnyjeans @finnsauroraborealis @tacoshu @ladytea19 @candicelerae @sassybrose @bambitaz @lookalivesunshine-x @liamakorn @rosequartz-ext @deepdisireslonging @flawlessglamazon @myorlandobloomersareshowing @thegoblin-maiden @justsimplevicky @taryn-dibiase @caramara3 @hardcorewwetrash~~

Send an ask or a DM if you wanna get added to the tag list!

[the-quiet-winds]

Clouds of Rain and Sun (part four)

hey kids, y’all know what’s up. it’s ya girl, julie, and ya other girl @ichlugebulletsandcornnuts, back with your part four.

i don’t have much to say except hold onto your hats and get ready for a ride and some sketchy people.

also i guess a language warning? there’s just one thing but it’s a bit derogatory so... yeah.

[part one] - [part two] - [part three]

[Part 4: Be Careful of Hurricanes]

over the next few weeks jane’s health grew better and better, and she was soon allowed to traverse the castle and grounds as normal. of course, katherine was her constant companion and their bond grew stronger. jane can’t take her mind off the idea of katherine calling her ‘mum’ again, and she’d give anything to hear her say it one more time, but she doesn’t want to push the girl. instead she doesn’t mention it, instead getting a small rush of joy every time she refers to katherine as edward’s sister; the first time katherine calls herself that in passing makes jane’s heart practically burst. she learns a lot about katherine over the weeks. katherine likes to read, but gets easily distracted by other things. she loves the palace hounds and begs to feed them scraps after dinner. she’s an excellent dancer and loves music. she’s also, jane finds out one chilly winter’s day, as they huddle under blankets in jane’s chamber, very good at chess. katherine had never played the game before, but after a small amount of instruction from jane she was winning almost every game. “checkmate,” katherine proudly announces as she moves her rook three squares away from her.

jane groans good-naturedly but smiles. “you win again, love,” she concedes. the brilliant grin on katherine’s face makes jane’s heart melt. then, jane remembers something else and her face darkens.

katherine, who over the weeks had become finely tuned to jane’s emotions, noticed this. “what is it?” she asks quietly.

jane looks to her and immediately knows she can’t lie. “the trial...it’s tomorrow.”

katherine sucks in a breath. she hadn’t thought about mannox’s man, sent to do god-knows-what, since the night it happened. “oh,” she says very quietly.

jane reaches out and rests her hand on katherine’s arm reassuringly. “he will be brought to justice. the guard saw everything and the court will convict him.” she pauses for a moment. “how about we go horse riding tomorrow? get out of the palace, you know?”

katherine shrugs slightly, not quite looking at jane. “sure. i don’t really mind.”

katherine is similarly shy through the remainder of the afternoon and through dinner. because of her new position, she is allowed to eat with jane and the king. she always sits right next to jane, letting her somewhat hide her from the king’s view.

“trial day tomorrow,” henry gruffs out between bites of lamb. “i assume you’ll both be there?”

katherine stiffens and jane jumps in. “i was actually planning to take katherine out and away tomorrow, my love.”

henry looks at her blankly. “the court expects her to testify before them.”

“my love,” jane says carefully. “surely they don’t need her testimony. they have the guard’s.”

“they expect reports from everyone involved,” henry takes another bite of his dinner. “that includes both of you.”

“it’s okay,” katherine says, staring down at her hardly-touched meal. although her voice is barely more than a whisper it surprises both jane and henry; katherine hasn’t said more than a word at dinner with henry before. “i’ll give my testimony.”

jane looks at her sympathetically, then gives her a look that katherine clearly understands as ‘we’ll talk about this later.’ the rest of dinner is a somewhat silent affair. henry eats his weight in meat, jane is poised and refined, katherine barely eats at all.

henry leaves not too long after, claiming work to finish, leaving katherine and jane alone.

jane turns to katherine, who’s still staring down at her plate. “you don’t have to do it, love.”

katherine shrugs. “it’ll get him convicted, right?” she tries to seem nonchalant but her small voice betrays her anxiousness. jane takes katherine’s hand gently.

“whatever you decide to do, sweetheart, i promise i’ll be with you.”

katherine is incredibly quiet the rest of the evening, barely saying two words to jane until they find themselves in bed, both failing to find sleep.

jane hears and feels she sheets move and opens an arm automatically, letting katherine curl up beside her.  

“i’m scared, jane,” she admits very quietly. “what if it’s not enough? what if they don’t lock him away?”

jane presses a soothing kiss to the top of her head. “he has a large case against him, love. if the court doesn’t lock him up they’re obviously mad.”

“but what if?” katherine insists, voice trembling slightly.

“no ifs, kat,” jane soothes. “he’s going to pay for what he did. if for any reason the court don’t convict him, then i’ll speak with my husband and we’ll find a way to make him pay. we’ll be safe, I promise.”

katherine couldn’t help but notice jane’s use of ‘we.’ “okay,” she agrees in a small voice.

jane kisses her forehead again. “that’s a good girl,” jane says. “i’ll protect you, kat. always.”

katherine still has an uneasy feeling in her stomach, but jane has an uncanny ability to make katherine feel safe and protected, and before long she can’t help but drift closer and closer to sleep, curled up against jane.

jane, however, lies awake for a little bit longer. she’s sure the man will be convicted, but she’s more worried about the effect being questioned at the trial will have on katherine. she hadn’t spoken about the incident since it happened, and jane herself didn’t even know the full details.

---

“the trial of blakely sheridan against the crown of england will now commence,” the leader of the court announced. “mister sheridan, would you please explain to the court what you believed took place the night of the 24th of October?”

“i was invited into the palace,” he starts casually. “i got a bit lost and knocked on a door for directions, then was accused of trying to molest the waitstaff.”

katherine’s body stiffens in her chair and jane glances over to her, reaching out and taking her hand. she gives it a comforting squeeze and katherine looks at her, attempting to smile but instead looking slightly nauseous.

“mister sheridan, according to witnesses, the door was locked when you were in the room with miss howard,” the court leader says, peering down his nose at blakely. “can you please explain in your own words why this was?”

he shrugs. “she locked it.”

when the entire court gasps, he speaks again, very cooly. “you see, only half of the accusation against me is true. yes, i almost had a sexual relation with miss howard.” the court dramatically gasps again, then sheridan continues. “but she insisted we do it. heard about me from a friend, she did. wanted to know if it was true.” he turns his head slightly to look at katherine. “little minx, she is.”

the court looks shocked and jane can hear a tiny choked whimper from katherine. the hand jane holds suddenly grips onto hers tightly. to jane’s relief, however, the leader of the court seems to have a sensible mind about the situation.

“so you got lost in the castle, and just so happened to wander into the bedroom of the personal attendant to the queen without being stopped by anybody. secondly, the chamber you entered just so happened to contain someone who wished to see you, completely accidentally.” he raises an eyebrow skeptically and jane lets out a quiet sigh of relief that at least one person was responding rationally.

“well, miss howard,” the court leader says, looking at her with surprisingly kind eyes. “would you like to tell the court your version of events?”

katherine feels jane squeeze her hand again, giving her the tiniest boost of confidence.

“i was preparing for bed,” she says in a shaky voice. “when he came in. he locked the door saying someone had let him in.” she swallows hard, trying to choke down her fear. jane’s thumb sweeps over her knuckles. “he said he knew...someone from my past. i started to scream for help and ja-...her majesty and the guards came in to stop him. he threatened to shoot me...” her voice breaks. “that’s all i remember.”

jane leans close to her. “i’m so proud of you, love,” she whispers.

the leader of the court sits back in his chair, contemplating the new information.

“she makes a very compelling case against you, mister sheridan,” he says. “what do you have to say for yourself?”

sheridan remains unconcerned. he shrugs again. “she’s lying. you know those types.” he shoots a subtle glare in katherine’s direction. “too scared to admit they wanted to have a little fun.” he looks back to the court leader. “your honor, you really can’t believe anything the little whore says.”

“well, we’ll hear from a witness before we make any decisions of that kind,” the court leader says rather testily. “mister percival wynn, may we hear your testimony?”

the guard who witnessed it stands up, officious and fearless.

“i was on patrol through the castle corridors when I heard a woman’s scream coming from miss howard’s chambers.”

“how would you describe this scream?” the court leaders asks. percival takes one moment to think before continuing confidently.

“it was definitely full of fear. it-” he pauses for a moment, looking slightly uncomfortable. “it actually sent chills down my spine with how terrified it sounded.”

“thank you,” the court leader says. “please continue with what happened.”

“i knocked on the door but it was locked,” he goes on. “she kept screaming. then her majesty came over...” he tugs at his collar. “she looked so afraid, too. so we unlocked the door and saw mister sheridan holding a gun, pointing it towards miss howard’s chest, saying if we didn’t release him he would shoot.” percival takes a long breath. “the gun was nothing but decoration, but he knocked out miss howard and started trying to take her away. her majesty finally stopped him with a book, hitting him on the shoulders.”

“thank you, mister wynn.” the guard salutes and sits back down. jane is alternating between murderous glances down to the still very calm and casual sheridan and soft, gently looks to katherine, who is all but shaking.

“if i may, your honor,” sheridan drawls, “it’s quite interesting to note how nervous the entire prosecuting team looks, no? if they knew that i would be put away, that their story was true,” he enunciates the word sharply, “would they be looking so...scared?”

katherine whimpers at that, an absolute look of devastation on her face, and suddenly jane can’t control her anger any longer.

“if i may, your honour,” she says, voice as calm as she possibly can make it, “i would like to say something to mister sheridan.”

the court leader nods. “speak, your highness.”

“mister sheridan,” jane begins. “surely you cannot be accusing me, your queen, the wife of our god-appointed sovereign Henry Tudor, eighth of his name and son of the great Henry VII, of lying before this court? and surely you know that, if you were found to be accusing me falsely, that the punishment for doing so would be a traitor’s death; to be hanged, drawn and quartered? and surely you understand that this court know mister wynn to be an honest man of good character, who has the captain of the guard as backing? it seems to me, mister sheridan, that you thought you could take advantage of a young girl and get away with it, but this is a place of justice, and rest assured, mister sheridan, that justice will be served. one way or another.”

when jane first stood, katherine couldn’t help the well-known fear of being told she was the blame, that the adult in the situation no longer believed her or never actually did, just wanting to embarrass her.

she was absolutely terrified that jane was going to denounce her, send her away, put her back into the world of men like sheridan who only wanted to hurt her.

but then jane spoke, a passionate fire in her voice as she defends her own honor, the testimony of the guard, and promises that justice will be served, one way or another.

when she finally sits back down, katherine can barely contain herself. not wanting to make a spectacle, she grabs jane’s hand and holds it tightly.

only a few minutes later, they take a recess, and as soon as they are alone, katherine throws her arms around jane in the tightest hug. “thank you,” she whispers, voice barely audible.

“it’s okay, kat,” jane soothes, holding katherine tightly. “i wasn’t going to let him stand there and say those things about you. he thought he could get away with it, but i’m not going to let him. justice will be done.”

katherine can’t even reply; she’d so overwhelmed with emotion, pure relief that someone believes her and is standing by her, that she might see justice for the first time in her life. she just clings to jane and lets jane softly smooth out her hair.

they stay that way for a few moments longer before jane reluctantly pulls back. she cups katherine’s cheek with her hand, maintaining eye contact. “i need to go talk with sir percival, you come in whenever you’re ready.”

when katherine nods, only then is jane confident enough to leave her alone in the corridor.

“howard!”

she turns, lady agnes quickly walking towards her. “the queen requested this,” she says, presenting a glass of red wine. “please give it to her?” it’s less of a statement and more of a demand, but katherine does as told.

she re-enters the courtroom, glass in hand, and gives it to jane. “agnes said you wanted this?”

jane looks confused, but takes the drink nonetheless. she sips it carefully, then sets it down on the table. jane shakes her head as if something had blown in her face, then grips the tabletop tightly.

“some odd wine,” she forces out, face losing all color.

then katherine can only watch in absolute horror as jane collapses to the floor.

[jaessunflower214]

Playdate

(y’all better read this while listening to Playdate, Cherish ^^) 

Summary: Baekhyun and you having a theme park date and now walking towards one of the many games to win a large stuffed animal. He is sure that they can win the game, but after many attempts (and a lot of cash down the drain) he gives up. You, however, tries and succeeds on your first go. **************************************************************************

“I am home.” you lazily put out your shoes on the shoe rack near the door and drop your bag and books on the table in the living room then proceed to lie on the couch while groaning. You just finished with your final examination for last paper and have not been sleeping for 2 days to study. 

Time now is 7 pm. you setup an alarm on the phone to wake up on 8 pm to get some food then proceed to sleep again to fulfill the sleep you’ve been skipped for the past 2 days. 

You were woken by a familiar voice speaking with a hand stroking, playing with your hair. you proceed to snuggle to their chest even more inhaling their scent. your favorite scent.

“baby sorry did i wake you up? suho hyung i’ll call you later okay, bye”

“no, its okay. what time is it now?”

“15 minutes past 8. i stopped your alarm just now to let you sleep more since you seems so exhausted. you okay baby? how was your exam?” he whisper softly against the top of your head.

“i am okay. just tired, you know that i don’t sleep for 2 days since its the last paper and the toughest subject for me.” you whine.

he chuckled softly while occasionally stroke his fingers up in down your spine in soothing motion. “you did well baby. i am so proud of you.” he kissed the top of your head. you look over him while grinning then proceed to kissed his lips then stare into each other eyes. “you’re the best baekhyun. i missed you. when did you come back?” your hands go up touching his mochi cheeks. he lost weight since he’s currently busy launching his new collection for Privé. 

“i just landed from LA then come over to your apartment straight away. i missed you too baby.” he pecked your lips then booping your nose with his finger.  

“are we going to cuddle for the rest of the night like this? let’s go on a date. i feel like going to a theme park today. we missed so many dates already.” 

“why not cuddling for the whole night?,” his teasing hands already wandering under your sweatshirt and then over the curve of your waist . cuddling with him, 9 out of ten, always lead to something more. “ and i thought you are tired baby?” he leans down kissing your lips then proceed along the jawline, playfully bite your neck and collarbone leaving few marks there. 

you smiled but slightly pushing him while whining “can we do this later? i really want to go on a date with you.” you try your best with the best puppy-look looking over at him.

he looks at you and gently cups your face. he leans closer and kissed your lips then pressed your forehead against his forehead while whispering “everything for you princess.” you kissed him again then both of you get up from the couch to clean yourself up. 

“there’s not many people here today.” you walk into the park while holding his hands. “what do you want to do first baekhyun?” you look over him by your shoulder. 

“we should get the hairband first. let’s go!” tugging your intertwined hands walking towards the souvenir store giddily. now he’s more excited than you. he’s always a kid to you.

“i want this.” you took the minnie mouse headband and he took the mickey mouse headband to match yours. after paying for the headband, he helps you put the headband and you helps him to put his too. “you look cute baby” both of you speak at the same time. both chuckled and you give him a peck on lips while caressing his mochi cheeks. 

you both walks towards one of the games there which happen to be a shooting games. “oh my god that looks cute baekhyun. its a welsh corgi stuffed doll. that’s remind me of Mongryong. i missed him already. i want it, can you get them for me baby?” you look over him.

“of course i can. i can do everything for you. i played PUBG as practice to do this kind of shooting games. you better watch me, i will win all of that for you!”

“fighting baekhyunee!” you cheer for him while stand beside him to watch him get the stuffed doll. 

the first try, he missed it. you comforted him since it just his first try. 

the second try, he missed it again. he started getting annoyed with the gun. blaming it for the missed target. you chuckled seeing him like that. as always byun baekhyun being a kid. 

the last try, he missed it again. he started to pout, whining while walking closer to you. “i aimed at it exactly baby. why it doesn’t work? i am sorry. i couldn’t get the doll for you.” the owner just chuckled seeing both of you. such a cute couple. 

“you want to try ?” he ask you and you nodded

“hey its okay. let me try.” you cease the frown on his eyebrow and peck his lips to stop him from pouting cutely here.

baekhyun help you to hold the gun since its your first time and its quite heavy for you. you aimed at it exactly then bang! its work, the tin goes down. the owner seems shocked and also baekhyun beside you. you succeed at the first try. 

“baekhyun i made it!!” you slightly jump then pulled baekhyun into hug. also kissed his mochi cheeks. baekhyun is now pouting because he’s jealous of you. you kissed his pouting then chuckled while ruffling his hair. 

“here you go miss.” he gives out the stuffed doll.

 “oh thank you uncle. see you again” baekhyun is still pouting.

you tug baekhyun intertwined hands with yours to the viking. 

“lets ride this.” baekhyun couldn’t help but chuckled seeing you like this.

upon the ride start, baekhyun thought you would be clinging to him like a monkey but you are enjoying yourself so much and neglect him who are scared now. 

“uncle please go faster!” you shout to the uncle who control the speed while baekhyun shout to slow down.

“uncle please slow down!” his screaming keeps getting louder. you are now laughing seeing him.

you put both your hands up in the air when the speed going faster. baekhyun beside you keeps on screaming he even let out informal language.

“i am going to die!!” his front hair keeps getting messier due to the wind. the viking is now going slowly since its coming end.

“ah its end already. its all because of you.” you joke and laugh seeing his appearance after going out from the ride. he looks pale and sweats all over his neck and face. 

“are you okay baekhyun?” you swept the sweats at his neck and face. again chuckling over him. 

“i am not going to ride that anymore.” he said while slowly breathing again. 

suddenly, your stomach letting out a sound. “hungry?” he looks over you who are already embarrassed. you nodded shyly at him. slightly ashamed because other people might hear it too. “lets go get ice cream and churros then we get a proper meal for my hungry baby.” he tugged your intertwined hands while walking to the food truck. he sit you at one of the bench available in front of water fountain. he go alone buying the ice cream and churros since both of you having the same favorite food. 

“Attention to the visitor of Everland Theme Park. There will be a firework shows on 10 pm near the water fountain. You are welcome to see the shows. Thank you!” 

baekhyun choose a good spot which you can see the firework clearly. he comes with ice cream and churros. 

“Do you hear that announcement? I choose a good spot isn’t?” he smiled with eyes sparkling as asking you to compliment him. as always baekhyun loves getting compliment just like a kid. he gives you the ice cream as he eats the churros first.

“yes baby. thank you.” you both eat quietly while staring at each other. you clean some of the ice cream and churros cream that get caught at baekhyun’s lips sometimes. as always he eat like a kid. you smiled looking at him. both of you were in your bubbles, ignoring other peoples around you. you missed this. going on dates. both of you were very busy for the past few months. you are with your final examination and baekhyun with launching his new collection. 

“i love you” both of you speak the same words for the second time today and chuckled to each other. the fireworks sound wakes both of you from your own world. 

“its so pretty. i am glad that i came here with you today on a dates.” baekhyun leans closer and kissed you for the nth time today. you smiled into the kiss. 

[happytroopers]

Waterloo

Mamma Mia!AU pt.2

So originally this was anout rex bout now its about dogma sorry 

One performance was enough to leave you breathless, but three songs later, there was nothing you craved more than your awaiting drink with Dogma. Regardless, you sang and danced your heart out to every song, keenly aware of a certain set of eyes on you the entire time. Finally, the night calmed down as soldiers started stumbling out.

Finishing your last song of the night, you slumped as the lights went dim. Stumbling down the bar, you draped yourself across the trooper- giggling at how he tensed up at the contact and breathing a thanks as he pulled you up a stool.

“I’m exhausted just watching you, you should drink some water so you don’t get dehydrated.” He told you, shoving another water into your hands. You took it quickly, relishing the cold drink as you gulped it down.

Watching you with a small smile, he took in the way the colored lights hit the tiny beads of sweat on your forehead, making you shimmer— as if the body glitter didn’t already have that effect— and tried to ignore the foremost thoughts he had about your heaving chest. He was a respectful man, but he was a couple drinks in and you were exceptionally gorgeous.

Finally, you finished off the water, and turned towards him with a flushed grin, “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“I was entertained.” He shrugged. You couldn’t tell if he was awkward or not interested in you. 

You tilted your head playfully, trying to think of anything to continue the conversation. But instead of something flirty and cool, you ended up cringing as you lead with, “So you come here often?”

Dogma chuckled but didn’t comment as your cheeks reddened. “Only when my vode force me. I’m glad they did though. You?”

“I’m glad they did, too.” You grinned, resting your chin on your hand, “I’ve been here once or twice before, but this was my first performance here.”

The conversation went on and on, covering every topic under the sun— occasionally finding excuses to touch each other. You’d place a hand on his bicep while laughing or he’d cautiously brush some hair out of your face.

Without even realizing it, you’d chatted the night away— the only interruptions were Rosie and Keehla leaving.  The conversation didn’t stop until the security droid alerted you that y’all HAD to leave now.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to hold you up so long.” You admitted. He was quick to stop you apologies.

“It was the best night I’ve had in a long time, ma’am.” He assured you, offering you a hand. You took it as you got up, but apparently sitting down for so long took a toll on you- or maybe it was the pumps, but you stumbled as soon as you stood. Fortunately, he was quick to catch you against his chest, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“I gotcha.” He assured you, steadying you, “May I walk you home? It’s late and I’d hate for something to happen to you.”

“I’d appreciate it.” You smiled, still against his chest, holding contact with his eyes. This time it was the bartender who interrupted.

“Listen! You don’t gotta go home, but ya’ can’t stay here. Get lost!” The grumpy drink maker growled, waving a towel at the two of you. This only caused a bout of laughter from you and a quiet apology from Dogma as you sauntered out of the bar and into the night. You felt a little more ridiculous out in the streets with your performance attire, but Coruscant’s night crowd didn’t seem to mind. For the longest, you walked with your bag swinging between his and your legs.

“Do you think you could put your bag on your other shoulder?” Dogma requested, looking over to you. You threw him a sideways glance, furrowing your eyebrows.

“May I ask why?” You asked as you complied, steadying the bag on your other shoulder. He smiled as he moved a little closer, his fingertips brushing yours now.

“Well, this way, the hand closest to me falls naturally, allowing me to nonchalantly begin spontaneously taking your hand.” He explained, once again lightly grazing your hand with his. You threw your hand back laughing, taking his hand in yours.

“Or you could just ask to hold my hand?” You teased, leaning closer into his side. Dogma’s cheeks turned so red, they almost shined through the ink of his tattoo, but nevertheless, he began tracing circles on your hand with his thumb as your trek continued.  

Finally, after ten more blocks and a train ride- the entire time you slowly getting him to open up, the two of you were giggling in front of your apartment’s door, shushing each other in fear of rousing your neighbors. You were leaning against the door, while Dogma had propped himself in front of you, one arm right above your head and the other absentmindedly playing with the hem of you bell-sleeve. “Not to sound forward, but are you roommates home yet?”

If anyone else had said it, you would have scoffed, but the way he asked made it sound like he genuinely cared for your safety. Regardless, your cheeks flushed as you shook your head, “Rosie left with one of your friends and Keehla always stumbles to her boyfriend’s place after a few drinks. So just me, I guess.”

“Will you be alright? Here by yourself, I mean?” He asked, once again brushing some of your hair from your face. You grinned, taking his hand in yours.

“I’m a big girl, Dogma, believe it or not, I can handle myself.” You chastised him, watching with a mischievous smirk as his shoulders dropped, “Buttttttt,  I wouldn’t mind some company if you wanted to come sit a spell.”

He immediately perked back up, a surprised smile growing as you laughed. Before he could answer though, a disgruntled voice muffled through the wall, “Perfect, now go inside and SHUT UP.”

The two of you stifled laughs as you pulled him inside. You shoved him to the couch as you went to the kitchen, kicking off your boots along the way. He declined your offer for food, but you brought him caf anyways. Folding yourself into the seat beside him, you once again smiled at him, shaking your head as he nervously scooted closer.

“Not to change the subject, but I was thinking, maybe we could discuss the pros and cons,, of me- uhh-  spending the night… here.. With you.” The Captain stuttered out, looking over to you. If you had a drink you would have choked on it.

“THAT,” You started loudly, almost through a laugh as you searched for words, “was.. Uhhmm… brazen…”

Desperately trying to remedy it, he sputtered out, “Well, from where I’m sitting, there are very few-- if any-- disadvantages aside from it being against regulations, but Jesse and Hardcase and well everyone said-”

Trying to save him, and yourself, from any more embarrassment, you interrupted him, “We barely know each other, we’ve only just met!”

“Well, there is two other… tiny reasons… maybe do me a huge favor… I’m shipping out in the day after tomorrow- on a really dangerous mission- and.. And it’d be my first time…” He trailed off, leaving you both embarrassed. You tried to overcome your habit of nervous laughter as you just blankly stared at him, trying to find a response to that.

“Dogma…” You drug out, going with the first words that came to mind, “You’re kidding?”

“Well, it's not exactly a thing I say to make me look cool.” He sighed, looking at you hopefully, those angel eyes still tugging at your heartstrings. Regardless, you still shook your head.

“Dogma,” the way you drawled it out, he already didn’t like your tone, “Again, we just met tonight! We barely know each other, and your leaving soon- is it really the best time?”

“I know, I know, it’s just that I’m always hearing ‘when you know, you know’, and I feel like when I’m with you… I know.” He rambled, watching you begin to get up. He caught your wrist.

“My, my

At Waterloo Napoleon did surrender

Oh yeah, and I have met

My destiny in quite a similar way.”

He began, tugging you close to his chest before continuing.

“The history book on the shelf

Is always repeating itself

Waterloo, I was defeated, you won the war

Waterloo, promise to love you for evermore”

He declared, spinning you away and hitting the button on your stereo flooding the apartment with music. Shaking your head, you sighed.

“Waterloo, couldn't escape if I wanted to

Waterloo, knowing my fate is to be with you

Woh, woh, woh, woh

Waterloo, finally facing my Waterloo

My, my

I tried to hold you back

But you were stronger

Oh yeah, and now it seems

My only chance is giving up the fight”

You conceded as you offered a hand to him, letting him wrap arms around your waist and sway with your back to his chest. You almost fell over laughing as his grip loosened. You climbed on top of the coffee table swaying to your stereo as you continued.

“And how could I ever refuse?

I feel like I win when I lose

Waterloo, I was defeated, you won the war”

Taking a knee, he held his arms up to you, over doing all the motions as he continued.

“Waterloo, promise to love you for ever more!”

Mid-declaration he jumped to his feet, lifting you up by the waist, spinning you around, and laughing along with your giggles.

“Waterloo, couldn't escape if I wanted to”

You yelped a laugh as he set you down, the captain following your lead with the footwork, but pulling you into his chest when he stumbled.

“Waterloo, knowing my fate is to be with you”

He finished as he twirled you around one last time, but this time your feet got tangled with his, getting caught on the leg of the coffee table.

“Woh, woh, woh, woh

Waterloo, finally facing my Waterloo”

As gravity took over, the pair of you toppled to the sofa-- yelping when it rocked--, but immediately silencing when your lips met in the chaos. You gasped and met his eyes, sliding your arms around his neck, and

dot. dot. dot.

 again sorry this sucks, your gonna have to tell me if I should even continue this