Fanfiction Writer Bingo

Thank you sm @josephseedismyfather for thinking of me 💕 you know how much I lvoe doing those tags 😁

Tagging anyone who likes to do this and hasn't done it yet, cause this one has been going around. Also posting the blank for anyone to use 💖

Hiya could you do Harry Crosby + “ if you asked me to marry you tomorrow, i'd say yes. “ “ what about today?” from one of your drabble prompt lists please and thanks 💛

Thank you so much for requesting, Nonnie! I’ve adored these Masters of the Air requests, especially getting to write for Harry my love!! Our favorite navigator 🥰

Quick warning that there is a nonzero chance of historical inaccuracies here, and the timeline may be a little off, but I did actual research for this one y’all! New additions to the ever-growing Useless Knowledge section of my brain: knowing where Lt. Harry Crosby studied for college (he was working on his graduate degree at the University of Iowa when the Pearl Harbor attack occurred; he went back to finish his degree there in 1947 and earned his PhD from Stanford University in 1953!), when and why he joined the Army Air Forces (paused his studies at U of I to enlist after Pearl Harbor), and where he was sent for his training (Mathers Field, California) before being stationed in Idaho, and eventually at East Anglia. Look at me go lol 🤪 Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy!

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

a/n: well, that’ll teach me not to try to format my fics on mobile 😂 I guess the Harry fic’s coming out today! Hope you like it Nonnie <3

Masterlist

Just Say Yes

You waited anxiously under the maple tree at the edge of the campus courtyard, fiddling with the worn, creased paper in your hands — Harry’s last letter, telling you that this next visit home would likely be his last before he was transferred to Idaho, and then to who knows where.

I’ll meet you under our tree, pretty girl, the letter had read, Saturday, our usual time?

The tree— the very maple tree you stood in the shade of now— was where you had met often when you were both students at the University of Iowa, studying English. The tradition had started when you were paired up for a project, and Harry asked if you would mind working outside.

“I think better in the fresh air,” he had said, almost apologetically, and you had agreed almost instantly, captivated by the quiet but clearly very smart boy who sat next to you in class.

Even after the project was over and graded, you continued to meet under that tree nearly every day at 2 o’clock after class to compare class notes or exchange feedback on essays.

And after nearly four months of meeting and working together, it was under that tree where Harry Crosby finally asked you out on a date.

Leaning back against the tree, you were jolted out of your trip down memory lane by a familiar voice calling your name.

Grinning, you turned to see Harry strolling towards you, dapper in his dress uniform, one arm raised in greeting, the other cradling a bouquet of tulips— your favorite.

You pushed off from the tree, unable to wait a single second longer, and sprinted to meet him, uncaring of the students staring at the crazy lady running across their campus.

He opened his arms as the distance between you lessened until you crashed into him, burying your head in his chest. He stumbled back a bit, absorbing your momentum, but he was quick to embrace you, quicker still to turn your momentum into a dizzying, joyous twirl, lifting your feet off the ground.

You let out a gleeful laugh as the world spun around you, and pulled him in for a long-overdue kiss once your feet were firmly back on the ground.

After the two of you reluctantly pulled apart, you cupped his face in your hands, drinking him in: lips stained red from your lipstick, hat knocked askew, uniform now more than a little wrinkled, and best of all, those warm brown eyes you had missed so much overflowing with love.

He looked as dapper as ever.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he murmured with a smile, a greeting for your ears only.

It had been so long since you’d heard those words from his lips, and all you could do was blink back the tears that sprang to your eyes as you replied with a simple, tender “Hi.”

Understanding filled his eyes, and he pulled you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead and allowing you a moment to compose yourself before the two of you headed back towards your tree.

“Oh!” He said, holding the bouquet out to you as if he just now remembered he had it, “For you, m’lady.”

You took the bouquet, fingering the delicate pink and yellow petals. “They’re beautiful, Harry,” you smiled up at him, “Thank you.”

“Anything for my girl,” he said, gesturing for you to sit and make yourself comfortable first before he settled next to you in the shade.

“So,” he said, wrapping an arm around you, “Tell me everything. What have I missed? How’d that paper go that you were telling me about?”

You couldn’t help but light up at the mention of your latest paper— your pride and joy, your best work yet if you didn’t say so yourself— and at Harry’s encouraging smile, you rambled on about themes and motifs and parallels, Harry occasionally chiming in with a suggestion that made the connections you had made even clearer.

Despite the plethora of letters you had sent each other, each doing your best to keep the other updated, you and Harry never seemed to run out of things to talk about: the conversation flowed from your latest paper to how Harry had been giving the guys some book recommendations based on your suggestions, to the small bookshop you had taken to visiting, compiling a list of titles for him that you thought he’d enjoy. Harry mentioned that some of his comrades had set up a small library of sorts in the barracks, running on the honor system, but they’d likely need to shut it down soon, with people moving to their more permanent placements.

“Oh that reminds me,” Harry said, digging in his pocket for a moment before triumphantly revealing a scrap of paper with his distinctive scrawl.

“Plenty of the guys are getting letters from their wives and sweethearts,” he said, slipping you the small piece of paper with the address of his next assignment in Boise, “I wanna make sure I’m one of ‘em.”

“Getting letters from your wife, or your sweetheart?” You asked playfully, tucking the slip of paper safely in your pocket.

“Uh.. Well, I mean…” Harry stammered, trying very hard not to think about the small box in his pocket.

“Hey,” you pause to assure him, “I was just kidding.” Under the shade of your tree, you rested your head on his shoulder, looking out at the courtyard. “I know we’re a little young, but…” You took a deep breath, entwining your fingers with his, “If you asked me to marry you tomorrow, I’d say yes.”

You caught the barest hint of movement out of the corner of your eye, and you glanced over to see a small box held out to you.

A box in Harry’s hand that was open to reveal a delicate gold ring.

“What about today?” Harry asked softly, close enough that his breath brushed your cheek.

“I— Harry—” You were speechless, your world zeroing in on that small gold band before realizing that you had been silent for far too long.

You nodded furiously, turning to kiss him before you could even get the words out.

“Is that a—”

Harry’s tentative question was cut short by your lips crashing onto his. His hands came up to cup your cheeks, kissing you back with equal fervor, the ring box left in your lap.

You both eventually pulled away, gasping for air. Harry’s forehead remained pressed to yours, chocolate brown eyes locked on you.

“Was that a yes?” He asked, lips still just barely brushing yours, and you could feel him trying not to smile.

You were an English major. There were a thousand words you could have said, a thousand speeches of acceptance and love and devotion you could have made.

Only one word mattered to you just then.

“Yes.”

little crush

pairings — draco malfoy x fem!granger!hufflepuff!reader

summary — in which, draco finds out about her crush on him and confronts her.

word count — 1.7k.

warnings — hints of anxiety, panic attacks, and harassment/bullying, harsh/toxic!ron, angst, fluff.

notes — i really wanted to make an imagine about draco, because he’s my ultimate fav hp male character <3. and honestly, let’s be honest, he deserved way better, and he really did deserve a redemption arc. and i’m still forever bitter that he didn’t get that redemption arc. we don’t stan j.k. r*wling in this house. PERIOD. gif and divider creds to owner!

p.s, feedback is very much encouraged and appreciated <3.

main masterlist

IT WOULD’VE BEEN LIKE ANY other day — normal.

if [y/n]’s twin didn’t race over to her and pull her into the potions’ classroom and tell her that everyone knows about her secret.

“what the bloody hell do you mean, ‘mione? are you sure you didn’t just mishear the conversation?” she asks anxiously, brows knitted together.

“yes, for the millionth time, i did not mishear the rumor! everyone’s talking about your crush on draco. i don’t know how people found out, but everyone’s talking about you.” hermione exclaims to her sister as people start to pile inside the classroom.

“no freaking way! this is not happening…” [y/n] trails off, her heart beating extremely fast in worry.

all she can think of now, is what is she going to do? her nonexistent reputation is completely ruined!

hermione simply stands there, waiting for her sister to collect her thoughts and accept what has happened.

but, like that’d happen with her. not once has [y/n] granger ever stayed calm and accepted anything for what it is.

“you know what? this doesn’t change anything! i just need to get through this class and i’ll be just fine.” [y/n] states completely in denial, shaking her head.

sighing, hermione takes her seat beside her sister, not sure how any of this is going to work out for [y/n].

and for the first few minutes, [y/n] actually starts to believe that everything will be okay.

that is until draco malfoy walks in and his undeniably gorgeous, piercing grey eyes meet hers.

when he smirks, that’s it for her; all her denial and self-confidence crumbles away.

“oh, god. i can’t do this. what am i going to do?” she whispers, her voice breaking as the tears start to build up.

hermione notices this as [y/n]’s breaths start to get shaky.

“hey. you’re going to be fine, okay? everything is going to be just fine. i know you’re scared, but i’m here. i’m not going anywhere and i’m going to help you through this — every step of the way. just try and focus on me and do your best to slow your breathing.” she tells her, grabbing her hand and squeezing it in order to comfort her panicking sister.

sighing, [y/n] focuses on her sister as she tries to slow down her breathing.

it doesn’t work right away, but after focusing for awhile — only on her breathing — it eventually goes back to normal.

throughout [y/n]’s panicking, both sisters hadn’t even realized that class had already begun.

before [y/n] can thank her sister for helping, professor snape interrupts, “ladies, is there something more important than my lesson that you’d like to share with the class?” he asks sternly, glaring at both sisters.

“n—no. i’m sorry, sir. nothing is more important than your lesson.” hermione excuses as snape rolls his eyes and turns back around to continue on with his lecture.

after awhile — other than the constant judging eyes and constant dramatic whisperings — things seem to calm down a little.

at least until draco does the expected; he turns towards the granger girls’ direction and sends a flying origami note straight into [y/n]’s hands when snape isn’t paying attention.

[y/n]’s heart pounds at a fast pace as she slowly and shakingly opens the note.

her heart drops and tears blind her eyesight at the words written in draco’s writing.

i heard you’ve got a little crush on me. how flattering that is, darling.

before she can think, [y/n] balls the paper up and tosses it to hermione.

she stands up abruptly, stealing everyone’s attention.

without another thought, she grabs her things and races out of the room.

once she makes it into her dorm room, she slams the door shut and falls down to the ground, the tears finally falling as the sobs leave her tense body.

minutes later, after all the sobs and cries are out of her system, she gets up and sets her things on her bed.

she wipes away the smudged, dry tears as best as she can.

then, she walks down to the great hall, just in time for lunch.

instead of sitting with her housemates, [y/n] sits down with her friends, who look up at her with worry — all except for ron.

“please, don’t ask about me.” she states as hermione opens her mouth to say something, but then clamps it shut.

“aren’t you going to eat some food?” harry asks in concern when he sees her simply fidgeting with her hands in her lap.

“not hungry.” she mutters uncomfortably.

“okay. i know i said i wouldn’t say anything, but this is ludicrous! she’s acting like she didn’t know this was going to happen. she’s to blame for all this bloody drama! she knows what kind of a bloke malfoy is. what did she think was going to happen? he’d accept her for who she is?” ron exclaims, clearly frustrated and not caring about his friend’s feelings.

“ronald! what the hell!” hermione exclaims, scowling at the red head.

“what’s wrong with you?” harry asks, glaring at his friend.

“no, guys. he’s right. i mean, i — of all people — should’ve saw it coming. he’s not a good guy? okay, i get it! but, even if it hurts that he doesn’t care about me at all, what actually matters is that one of my best friends cares more about being right than supporting his friend through hard times. so, thank you so much, ron, for your honesty and showing me what really matters.” [y/n] states, her voice nearly breaking.

without another word, she turns around and hurriedly rushes out of the great hall, not even noticing all the eyes on her — every single hogwarts house saw the entire exchange between ron and [y/n].

including draco, who watches her with confusion and another unknown emotion.

once she exits the great hall, [y/n] finally lets the waterworks leave her body and rushes to her favorite place where she goes to when she needs to think or be alone.

it’s an abandoned corridor that barely anyone enters anymore.

she sits herself down on the ledge by the window and holds her knees up to her chest as she lets her head fall, the sobs escaping and the tears falling freely.

“i thought i’d find you here.” hermione says from behind her.

[y/n] looks up to see her sister standing in front of her, arms crossed with draco stood behind her.

“uh, what are you two doing here?” she asks in a raspy tone, wiping her tears away as if they were never there.

“well, i wanted to check up on you, so i left the great hall. and this git wanted to as well, so i said that i’d bring him here.” she explains as [y/n] sighs, refusing to look the slytherin boy in the eyes.

“and now that i see that for sure you haven’t set yourself on fire, i’m going to head back. i’ll talk to you later, [y/n/n], okay?” hermione says as [y/n] nods.

“you two should talk,” she tells her sister, before turning to draco, “i know it seems like she wants nothing to do with you. but, i promise it’s just her self-defense mechanism. she likes to act like she wants nothing to do with you when she’s really just hurt.” she explains to him as she turns to walk out of the corridor.

“so, you wanted to check on me? why?” [y/n] finally asks, turning to actually look up at him.

“yeah. i wanted to make sure you were okay since my note and what weasley said to you seemed to really upset you.” he admits, walking to sit beside her on the ledge.

“it’s whatever. honestly, draco, you don’t need to try to make me feel better just because you feel bad for not caring about me the way i do about you.” she states, trying to hold in the tears as she moves over for him, so her legs lay over the edge of the ledge.

“but… that’s the thing. i do think of you like that. that note i gave you, i was trying to make you smile because it was kind of obvious people were giving you a hard time.” he states, looking over at her intensely.

“draco, please. don’t try to make me feel better about this, okay? i get it. it sucks when you find out someone likes you, but you don’t feel the same. so, naturally, you do anything you can… to help take away some of the pain. i know you don’t like me because you’re the invincible slytherin prince. and i’m the plain and simple, shy, naive girl that no one cares about. don’t lie to my face to make me feel better. just be honest.” she sighs as more tears fall down her already red cheeks.

“i’m not lying about this. but if you want the entire truth… fine,” he sighs, inhaling sharply, “i do feel that way about you. i’ve always felt this way. at first, i thought the whole quiet girl thing was cute. but then, i saw how your friends treated you. they treated you like you were fragile. so, i started to watch you more closely whenever you were around me. i learnt that you’re the kind and loyal and genuine and selfless and caring and loving and happy type of girl that everyone takes advantage of. you like to portray yourself as happy and positive so no one worries about you, or so no one ever knows the pain you’ve endured. you light up a room just by your smile. people get inspired by you because of who you are. and after i started to realize these things about you, i didn’t just admire you. i started to fall in love with these parts of you until i realized how you make me feel. i just never told you any of this because i was scared you couldn’t love such a damaged bloke like me.” he says, leaving her completely speechless.

“w—what?” she asks, utterly surprised.

“do i need to spell it out for you?” he asks, rolling his eyes.

her eyebrows furrow in confusion as he cups her cheeks.

he pulls her towards him as their lips meet.

the kiss is full of urgency and passion and desperation — a kiss that both teenagers have been waiting for, for so long.

“so, just to make it clear, you do have romantic feelings for me?” she asks, giggling at his smile.

“should i make it clear again?” draco asks with a smirk.

“yes, please.” [y/n] giggles.

and with that, he closes the gap between them once more.

queen anne’s coffee

A/N: hello everyone! I am not D/deaf or Hard of Hearing. However, this was requested more than once I wanted to do my best to provide. In this story, Y/N is a part of the Deaf community. if I have misrepresented the Deaf community in any way or wrote something inaccurate or offensive, then please DO NOT hesitate to let me know (respectfully, of course!) i wanted to fulfill this person’s request and be as inclusive as i could, as i don’t typically see stories with a Deaf!reader. shes short and sweet but i hope you all enjoy anyway! as always, feedback is very much welcomed and appreciated! :)

Summary: Y/N visits Harry’s coffee shop every Tuesday and Thursday and always orders the same thing. Harry HAS to get to know her!!!

word count: ~1.7k

my ko-fi! thank you :)

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Every Tuesday and Thursday at exactly 3:50 PM, Y/N placed an online order that consisted of an iced chai tea latte with oat milk and a butter croissant from Harry’s coffee shop, Queen Anne’s Coffee.

Y/N never forgot to add, “warmed up pls! thank you :)” in the section for comments, and she always tipped. She would then come into Harry’s shop approximately ten minutes later, walk up to the ‘pickup’ counter, grab her items, smile at Harry, and promptly leave. Harry never even so much as said hello to her, but he was irrevocably captivated––even if she was a complete stranger.

Harry decided that when Y/N came in today for her usual, he’d finally talk to her.

Business had been unusually slow for a Thursday afternoon but Harry didn’t mind–when Y/N came in, he’d be able to have a proper chat with her without having to rush the conversation along to help other customers. His gaze kept floating up to the cat-shaped clock hanging above the door, anxiously awaiting 3:50 PM when Y/N’s order would come through on the iPad and he got to read the words, “warmed up pls! thank you :)”

Harry didn’t know why he was so nervous to speak to her. As the owner of his very own coffee shop (and it’s only employee), he got to know the people who came in regularly well, even developing genuine friendships with some. It bothered Harry that this beautiful person gave him business two days a week and the only thing he knew about her was her name, which is only because he can see it when she places her order online.

When the iPad Harry keeps plugged up atop the counter chimes, he doesn’t even have to glance at it to know it was Y/N but he does anyway, feelings of excitement bubbling in the pit of his stomach. He was finally going to talk to her! Harry contemplates scribbling his number on the side of her cup as he’s writing her name but decides against it, not wanting to be too forward before they even formally meet.

When Y/N comes in ten minutes later, Harry can immediately sense something is wrong. She hardly looks up once as she shuffles from the door to the counter, hoodie pulled up and drawn tight over her head.

“Are you okay?”

Y/N doesn’t look up or even acknowledge the fact that Harry spoke. Even though there’s only two other people in the shop besides them, Harry figures she might think he was talking to someone else and addresses her by name.

“Y/N?”

She still doesn’t address Harry as she gives him a small smile before hurriedly exiting the shop, the bell above the door signaling her exit.

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When Tuesday comes, Harry’s out of bed before his alarm jolts him from his dreams.

He thought about Y/N all weekend as he impatiently awaited Tuesday’s arrival, excited over the prospect of finally seeing her again. He hoped she was doing better today than she was last week, and he really hoped she was in the mood to chat with him today.

Harry’s grateful the shop is busy today. It helps to keep his mind off of Y/N, and his eyes off the clock. When the iPad chimes at 3:50 on the dot, Harry decides he’ll wait until she comes in to prepare her order. It didn’t take him over two minutes, anyway. He figures this will give him a bit more time to chat with her, at least say hello and see if she’s doing better.

Much to his pleasure, Y/N has a big smile on her face when she bursts through the door ten minutes later. She floats to the pickup counter, then furrows her eyebrows in confusion as she looks up at Harry.

“Sorry, I’m working on your order right now,” Harry grabs a purple marker off the counter, scribbling Y/N’s name on the cup used for iced drinks. “How’s your day so far?”

Harry watches as Y/N cocks her head to the side in confusion, then pulls her phone out of the back pocket of her jeans. She quickly types something before holding her phone out for Harry to take.

“I can’t hear you! I’m Deaf.”

A look of realization floods Harry’s face as he reads what she said. He now understood why Y/N didn’t answer him when he tried speaking to her last week, and he’s secretly relieved that she wasn’t ignoring him because she hated him or anything like that.

“I know a bit of sign!” Harry types before handing Y/N back her phone. He watches as her eyes skim his words and she looks up, a toothy grin plastered on her face.

“Great! This is much faster.” Her hands move quickly as she signs. “Did my order work or not? Wi-Fi is bad at home today.”

Harry realizes he doesn’t know as much sign language as he thought he did.

“OK. I am rusty.”

Y/N smiles at this and pulls her phone back out, typing what she just signed to him before passing it back to him. A look of realization floods Harry’s face as he learns she was just asking if her order came through alright, seeing as it was not yet ready. Too embarrassed to tell her he intentionally waited until she arrived to prepare her order, he just nods.

“I’ll have it ready in no more than two minutes… and refund you, too. I’m sorry for the wait.” Harry looks up at Y/N as he passes the phone to her, eyes not leaving her face as he tries to gauge her reaction.

“No!” Her head shakes as she signs. “Happy to pay. Thank you.”

Harry understands Y/N but refunds her, anyway.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“Why do you always come Tuesday and Thursday? Same time?”

“Exams every Tuesday and Thursday.” The look of obvious dissatisfaction on Y/N’s face makes Harry laugh. “Your chai and pastries cheer me up after.”

Harry’s face turns red at Y/N’s admittance, so he instead looks down, pretending he’s distracted by something on the iPad. He decides at that moment that he will no longer charge Y/N for her oat milk latte and croissant. She was a college student after all––if her financial situation was like Harry’s in any way when he was in college earning his business degree, it would probably be beneficial for her to save her money, anyhow.

Ever since Harry and Y/N’s first real interaction, Y/N had been coming into Queen Anne’s nearly every day, school supplies and laptop in tow. She always sat at the table closest to the front counter, directly in Harry’s line of vision so they could sign to each other.

Y/N provided Harry with some much needed (and enjoyed) company when business was slow, and she was helping him brush up on his sign language. Harry learned that Y/N is Deaf; her hearing is completely gone in her left ear and almost completely gone in the right. She’s the only person in her family who is Deaf. She also hated eggs, is lactose intolerant (hence the oat milk), has two older siblings, is a master’s student, and a plethora of other things that Harry had committed to memory.

“Thank you. I’m glad you enjoy.”  

“Who is A-N-N-E?”

Harry grins. “My mother. Back in London.”

Y/N’s eyes widen. “London? Amazing! You must have an accent.”

It dawns on Harry that Y/N has never heard his voice before. “Yes. Are you from here?” Y/N nods in response.

“Whole life. Small town, but it’s home.” Her pinched hand moves quickly from her mouth up to her ear.

“Sorry. What?”

“H-O-M-E.”

A look of realization floods Harry’s face as he nods in response, signaling for Y/N to give him a moment as the bell above the entrance jingles. It seems as if the few people who walk through the door act as a catalyst for others to enter, and soon Queen Anne’s is at maximum occupancy and Harry is trying to make several drinks at once while taking orders. He locks eyes with Y/N a few times and she gives him a sympathetic look, not able to do much to help him out.

Harry decides that once business dies back down, he’ll find out if Y/N is interested in a part-time job.

⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Y/N was interested in a part-time job.

She was a fast learner and a hard worker. Harry was more than delighted to show her how to make every drink on the menu, and consume her failed attempts. It was nice having someone else behind the counter with him––he wished he’d gone about hiring someone to help him much sooner, but he was glad to now have Y/N by his side.

“So much chai! I thought only I drank this stuff.”

Harry’s gaze lingers on Y/N for a beat too long, causing her to shift slightly. Harry’s hand moves to scratch the back of his neck. “Yes. I like chai. With milk.” His hand forms a ‘C’ then closes to form an ‘S’ twice for the word “milk”.

“Regular?” One of Y/N’s eyebrows raises as she asks her question, setting a hot chai latte atop the “pickup” counter.

“S-O-Y.”

Y/N lets out a quiet snort of laughter as she shakes her head. It was the first time Harry ever made her laugh out loud. After hearing her laugh once, he never wanted to stop––it was music to his ears. “Not surprised!”

Harry’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “Why?” His eyes remain on Y/N as she walks around the small area, cleaning up a small coffee spill she had earlier.

“You just are a S-O-Y boy, H. My S-O-Y boy!”

Harry’s cheeks immediately turn pink as they did the first time Y/N said something that flustered him, but he doesn’t look away.

“You’re my O-A-T girl.”

⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Thank you everyone for reading!!! This is only the beginning of Y/N and Harry I think <33

Pairing: Sub!Goshiki x DomFem! Chubby!Reader Part 1 Summary: You met your good friend Goshiki at work one day, having similar interests in books. When you start developing feelings for him, things get difficult. Especially when he asks a special favor. Content: Body image issues

A/N: Thank you for following along! We’re now on our fourth week of stories! Both virginity loss stories are three parts. The second part will release on Wednesday and the third part on Friday. Be sure to check out @millenialfanfictionaddiction​s story Oikawa’s Oasis! You can reach it through the Please Me Series Masterlist. Feedback is appreciated!

This wasn’t the way it was supposed to happen. It wasn’t supposed to be like this at all. It wasn’t like you had your whole life planned out, in fact, it was quite the opposite. You didn’t know what you were doing half the time and you had reached a point in your life where you were kind of okay with that. While there were good things you tried to bring into your life, there was an even longer list of bad things you tried to keep out.

After hitting your late twenties, you decided it was important to take care of yourself. Getting rid of toxic friendships and focusing on your mental and physical health became your priority. You were doing a great job, as much as the rolls on your stomach and all over chubby look you had attested against it.

One of the other things you decided to finally pursue was your dream of being a romance novelist. You quit your nine-to-five day job that you hated and started working at your favorite bookstore in town while your nights were spent writing. The support you had from your friends at the bookstore was way more than you could ever have imagined. Even your boss loved hearing about your story ideas.

“You look tired.” Your boss, Dylan, joked as you walked into the breakroom, ready to start your shift.

“I was up late last night writing.” You hung up your jacket in your locker. “I could really use some… cof…fee.”

Your eyes lit up as you saw the full cup of coffee in your boss’s hand, extended to you. It was from your favorite shop down the street.

“How did you know I wanted coffee? Are you even real?” You took the cup and gulped down half of it.

“You forget, I’m your beta reader.” He laughed. “When you’re up writing, I’m up reading. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Thank you!” You held the cup up to him, then took another big gulp.

“You get another tattoo?” He asked, eyeing your arm as you closed your locker. You looked down at your arm and smiled.

“Yep. Trying to finish up this sleeve.”

“I have a question.” He leaned back in his chair, his hands resting in his lap. “Why don’t you ever write with characters that look like you?”

“People like me don’t get to have romances like those in the books.” You shrugged and headed out to the floor.

The morning mid-shift was always your favorite. As much as you hated getting up early, the bookstore was at its quietest then and you could relax with your coworkers. You spotted your favorite co-worker manning the help desk and focusing on something on the other side of the bookstore.

“What are you looking at?”

“Shh…” They put their fingers to their lips. “I don’t want him to know I see him.”

“See who? What are you talking about?” You whispered, trying not to expose yourselves even though you still didn’t know what you were looking at.

“That guy.” They pointed and your eyes followed the direction of their finger to see a tall figure in the magazine section, his hood up, mask on and wearing sunglasses. You could see black bangs peeking out under the hood.

“So why don’t you want him to know you see him?”

“In case he’s stealing.” They whisper-yelled and you laughed.

“I’ll just go talk to him.” You stood up straight and made your way over. He looked a little less shady up close because you could see that he was lost in his reading and didn’t even really notice you being there.

When you first walked up, you saw him reading one of the car magazines from the shelf, but now that you were closer, you could see he had a book inside the magazine and was reading the book.

“You know, normally people put the magazine in the book, not the other way around.” You leaned closer to him and he jumped back, shrieking as he dropped the magazine and the book. He backed away from you and if he didn’t have his entire face covered with a mask and sunglasses, you could only imagine his eyes wide and his mouth open.

The magazine was all bent on the ground and you leaned over to pick it up along with the book. You could only imagine what he was reading that he had it hidden in a car magazine. Putting the magazine back on the shelf, you looked at the cover of the book. Romance?

“Were you reading this?” You held the book up to him with a smile.

“No.” He shook his head back and forth anxiously.

“Then why is it here?”

“It fell.”

“From where?” You questioned.

“Alright fine, I was reading it.”

He dropped his head low and you gasped sarcastically, your hand to your chest. “No! Really? I would never have guessed.”

“Very funny.” You laughed, looking back down at the book.

“So why are you hiding then? Or did you not notice there’s only like two other people shopping.” You gestured to the rest of the store. “Or maybe you couldn’t see well with those incredibly dark sunglasses.”

“That’s not it.” He pulled off the sunglasses and mask, dropping the hood to his sweatshirt as he looked around the store nervously. “I just don’t want anyone to know I’m reading it.”

“What’s wrong with it?” You looked at the book. It was one of your favorites. “This is a great book.”

His eyes widened as he quickly looked back to you. “You like romance novels?”

“I love them. I’m trying to write one actually. This one has given me a lot of inspiration for my current story.”

“That’s so cool.” He smiled, looking really amazed, you weren’t sure by what though.

“So, let me get this straight.” You narrowed your eyes skeptically. “You come in here to secretly read these romance novels because you don’t want people to know you’re reading them?”

“Yes.”

“Why don’t you just buy it and read it at home?”

“I have a roommate and I don’t want him to know.”

“You could go to the library.”

“They don’t have the ones I like and they don’t release as quickly as you guys do.”

“How long have you been doing this?” His mouth opened and he turned away, looking nervous by the question so you changed the subject. “Never mind. Honestly, as long as you’re not stealing or planning to steal, you can read however you’d like.”

You stepped back, adjusting the unorganized magazines, and turned to walk back to your station.

“Well, wait.” He went to grab your arm, but thought better and pulled back as you turned around. “You said you write.”

“Yes.” You nodded at him.

“Can I read your stuff?”

“Why would I let you read my work?” You laughed slightly uncomfortably. It was a weird question. He doesn’t know anything about you or your writing. You could actually suck at it. “I don’t even know you.”

“Goshiki.” He put his hand out with a smile and you shook it, telling him your name. “So we’re friends now?”

You started laughing. You couldn’t believe this guy. Friends? You met less than two minutes ago because he was being a creep in your store.

“You don’t have to laugh.” He grumbled.

“Why do you want to read my work so badly? You don’t know me. It could very well suck.”

“I just don’t have anyone to talk to about this stuff. I’ve been reading these books for years. I tried to avoid them in high school because I knew I would get made fun of, but I’ve never met anyone in person that likes them too. Not since you.”

The look on his face made you feel so guilty. Why did you have to have such a big heart? The guy just wants to talk about romance novels. He also had a point. You barely knew anyone that liked romance novels and you worked at a book store. Honestly, you could use a second opinion. Dylan had no idea what he was talking about half the time.

“Fine.” You sighed and he started smiling.

“Really?”

“Yes, but I’m not letting you read it without me watching. The last thing I need is you to steal my ideas.”

“That’s perfect.” He pulled out his phone. “There’s a coffee shop just down the street I like. We can meet there. Can I have your number?”

“Are you talking about Milstead?” You took his phone and typed your information, handing him your phone.

“Yeah, you know it?”

“Know it? I love it. I practically keep them in business.”

That’s where your friendship with the weird guy in the bookstore started. You weren’t so stuck in middle school that you would call him your best friend, but he was definitely your best friend. You had even caught him calling you his best friend to your coworkers and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t have you smiling.

You had never gotten along with someone so immediately the way you did with Goshiki. You had an endless list of similar interests, from favorite books to your favorite coffee shop. You even had the same oddball order from the café. Though, you were both pretty sure that he accidentally got your order once and liked it so much he continued ordering it.

It didn’t take long for you both to start hanging out nearly every day and he started coming into the bookstore to talk to you rather than actually reading the novels he loved. After a couple weeks you trusted him enough to email him your work and it was only a month into your friendship before he was going over to your apartment to hang out regularly.

“Don’t you think it’s weird how close you’ve gotten?” Dylan asked as he helped stock the shelves. He had been wondering how your writing was going and if you were going to finish the latest chapter you had been working on. When you told him Goshiki was coming over to your place later so it wouldn’t get done, he worried.

“I don’t think it’s weird. Is it?” You didn’t feel uncomfortable. Honestly, Goshiki didn’t give off any of the red flags you were so used to seeing in people. He was genuinely a nice person who loved the same things as you.

“I don’t know. You just so happen to love all the same things?” He paused his stocking and looked at you. “Are you sure he doesn’t just have feelings for you and maybe he’s pretending to like the same things as you?”

“Stop trying to put me in my romance novel.” You laughed. “Guys don’t do that for me.”

Later that night you were in your kitchen waiting for Goshiki to get there. You had done something so stupid, something so completely thoughtless that you knew would ruin your mood yet you couldn’t resist the torture apparently. You weighed yourself. The level of fluctuating your weight did was honestly unbelievable. You always had good days when it was down, but days like today when it was up, you couldn’t help but let it sour your mood.

There was a knock at the door before it opened up and Goshiki walked in. You hadn’t given him a key or anything, but it was only a matter of time before you both hit that step.

“I brought Oreos.” He smiled, setting the container on the counter, pulling it open and eating one. He grabbed a second one and split it open, handing you the side without the cream. “Here.”

“You can have my side.” You tried to smile.

“But you always eat my half that doesn’t have cream.”

“It’s fine.” You shook your head. “I shouldn’t be eating it.”

“Shouldn’t be eating it? Are you sick?” He pulled another Oreo from the container and ate it in one bite. He was honestly so lucky he could eat whatever he wanted.

“No just watching my weight. I sort of fell back into some old habits.”

“What’s wrong with your weight? You look great.”

“Let’s get started on the story.” You tried to change the subject.

“Did you finish the chapter?” Goshiki’s eyes were wide and he spit the dryness of the cookies from his mouth out of excitement. You laughed as he quickly covered his mouth. “Sorry.”

“Maybe.” You smiled coyly, grabbing his hand and he grabbed the Oreo container. ���Come on.”

Moving to the couch, you sat on the end, Goshiki plopping next to you, and you put your laptop in his lap. There was a tiny bit of anxiety building in your stomach as you sat there watching him read and you were pretty sure part of it was what Dylan had said earlier. Was it possible that Goshiki had feelings for you? You watched as he put another Oreo in his mouth, his eyes glued to screen of your computer, scanning back and forth as he read. You weren’t even sure if he was blinking, the glow of the monitor shining onto his eyes. There was no way someone could be that into you to fake that look of concentration.

You smiled to yourself and kept watching him read. This chapter had a pretty steamy scene in it but you’d known Goshiki long enough and seen him read enough of your work to know that it didn’t matter what he was reading, his expression never changed. His eyes were always wide with interest, mouth closed in a pout.

He put another Oreo in and you watched him as he chewed, his jaw working. You could see the sharp, jagged edges of the cookie through his cheek until it eventually became a smooth, round bump and he swallowed it, reaching for another.

Propping your head up on your hand on the back of the couch, you continued watching him. He was definitely good-looking. You had noticed how good-looking he was the first day you saw him in the magazine section, hiding his romance novel. Not wanting to interrupt him, you tried not to laugh, but definitely couldn’t hold back the smile as you thought about the memory. Would it be so bad if he did have feelings for you? You had dated some really terrible guys in the past. Goshiki wouldn’t even be close to the list those guys were on.

He licked his lips, wiping Oreo crumbs from his mouth and you licked your own lips, swallowing hard as you watched him. You liked the same food, the same coffee, the same books, you had so many hobbies that overlapped and you could honestly spend hours with him without getting bored. You started to think that maybe you were feeling anxious not because of what Dylan thought of Goshiki, but maybe what you were feeling about him. Was it maybe you that had feelings for Goshiki?

“Wow, that was such a good—” He turned to look at you but noticed something in your face, an expression he wasn’t sure of. “Everything okay?”

You had made a lot of questionable decisions in your life, some of them you regretted, some led you to the most amazing times. This last year especially was a time of making really great decisions, cleaning out the bad and bringing in the good. You weren’t sure which direction this decision was going to take you, but you leaned into Goshiki anyway. His eyes went a little wide as your lips barely touched. You wanted to give him time to pull away if he wanted, but he didn’t and that made you push yourself the last inch until your lips met his.

Soft, plush, velvety lips pressed against yours and for an instant you were taken out of the moment, your head swirling with a mix of feelings, amazing feelings that you weren’t even sure you could separate but it didn’t matter because the cocktail they created in your head made you feel drunk, stupidly drunk as you kissed him. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you pulled back.

“Oh my—I’m sorry—I don’t—"

“No, it… it feels good.” He brought his hands up to your cheeks and pushed his lips against yours again, this time without any hesitation. You never knew the feeling of his nose touching yours or the little puffs of his breath against your face, or just how warm, calloused, and big his hands would feel against your cheek. Suddenly you were feeling them all at once and you pulled him closer, your tongue licking over his lips until he opened his mouth.

He dropped his hand to your waist, rubbing at the fleshiness of your body and you couldn’t stop the heavy beating of your heart. The awkwardness you had briefly worried about didn’t exist, it was only bliss. It was the best kind of overwhelming and you wanted more of him.

Pushing the laptop to the other side of him, you lifted yourself up until you could climb over him, straddling his lap. His hands immediately went to your plump hips, cradling them, but again you wanted more and you scooted yourself closer.

“Uh—I…” He gasped, sitting back from you.

“Is this too fast?”

“I’ve just never—I mean, I don’t know how—I’ve never—reading it is totally different.”

“Are you okay?” He kind of looked like he was shutting down. He was saying a lot, but none of it was complete and made no sense to you.

His eyes widened as he whispered quietly to himself. “Holy shit, my dick’s hard.”

“Goshi—”

“I have to go.” He started standing up with you in his lap and you quickly moved out of the way so he could get up. “I’m sorry. I just… I have to go.”

He didn’t even turn around to look at you as he moved hurriedly to the front door of your apartment. You heard the door quickly open and close and you couldn’t even let yourself feel bad. You were just confused.

It was possible you misread the situation, but he seemed really into it. Maybe he changed his mind partway through. You didn’t want to think about you being the problem, but it was hard to ignore. He felt your weight. You sat on his lap and he held you and maybe he finally realized that you didn’t ‘look great’ like he always told you.

You sighed, sitting back on the couch and running your fingers through your hair. You had done so much this last year to better yourself. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to happen. It wasn’t supposed to be like this at all. Great decisions would lead to great opportunities and you were trying to bring good things into your life. Falling for your best friend was not on that list, yet here you were.

Shit.

.....

@chaotic-nick​ @yep-seeyalaterbranflakes​ @serostapesweat​ @lovelyzabrak-meadow​

Dear readers,

Thank you. In regards to @klarolinepositivity, I want you to know that today honestly is the most important. Yes, us content makers are a big part of this community but we would be nothing without you because you are what keeps this fandom alive. It is you that keeps us writing, creating and bringing content to this fandom. It is your positive encouragement and kind words that make creating in this fandom (or any fandom) worthwhile because without you, there would be no point in creating at all.

Yes, we may create because it is something we enjoy but we post because we want others to enjoy what we make. We also want to hear your thoughts and feelings our creations evoked. Whether it be happiness or sadness, we want to hear your positive feedback because it will keep us going. It will keep us creating.

I know that sometimes it may seem daunting to reach out to a writer or a graphic maker, fearful that they will be annoyed or that you’re wasting their time but trust me, you’re not. Even if we do not respond to every comment, we see them.

You are the reason why we create.

Because without you, there would be no fandom for anyone to find solace in.

You’re what keeps it alive.

Now, I want to thank some very special people who have given me the nudge to keep on writing.

@delightfullysunny: You read, reblog and review almost everything I write. I find that when I post, I am excited to see what you think. I cannot wait to read the review you leave me, giving me that urge to keep on writing. Some days are bad days but it's kind words like yours that mean the most. When my motivation is low or I have doubt in my writing skills, I go back to some of the things you’ve said and it reminds me of why I love to write. Your words have been noticed and appreciated, so thank you.

@1jemmagirl22: Jemma, you sweetheart. I see those reblogs. I see those reviews. I do. You are beyond kind and wonderful. Your reviews on A03 are always so positive and sweet. As a writer yourself, you know how intimidating it can be to post something, anxiously waiting for feedback so to see you reviewing and promoting me, is something that I not only admire but am thankful for. Your thoughtfulness and standing support is not only appreciated but utterly tear jerking (in the best way).

@enniec123: Everyone knows you and we all love you. You are our constant cheerleader. Bringing smiles to us all and cheering us on from the sidelines. You are always there to bring a smile to our face and squeal about the things you love. Hearing you rave over and over about something you’ve read or a graphic you loved is intoxicating. You breathe life into this fandom with the simple fact that you do not hold back your encouragement. There has been more than once that I thought of you, how something I would write (JAF) would make you smile and it kept me coming back to it.

@diaz-eddie and @recyclingss: I’m putting the two of you together because I have one very specific memory that means the world to me and it's because of the two of you. There was a night that we were in the old server and you were raving about Ballad of the Sea. That series is very near and dear to me and to hear both of you talk about how much you loved it, means the world to me. Both of you show appreciation for the writers you love and still do, that memory will always stay with me specifically. It was honestly that conversation that had me going on to writing the prequel and the sequel…and will have me writing the final part this year. Without that encouragement, Ballad of the Sea would have been a standalone one-shot. So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for being probably two of the biggest cheerleaders in the fandom.

@carolineforbae: Girl, you’ve been with me since day one. Back when you got first dibs on Demonology to your comment bombs, you are someone to be cherish. I know we have not talked as often as we used to, because of real life being the way it is, but I always think of you and remember how you kept me going during my early days in the fandom. It was your constant friendship and encouragement that made me

@destellolunar: I remember having this really shitty day. Like just a super bad day and I was talking with you. It was around the time I was working on developing Echoes of Sorrow and you made me that graphic, the one I still use today, simply to make my day better. That graphic made me cry, because it made my day so much better. I know that I’ve praised you twice already this week but it just shows that you’re too amazing for this fandom. Seriously, creating content, co-running the library? You really are bringing this fandom together in the best way possible. Keep being that amazing and wonderful person you are. You deserve all the good things in life.

@klavscaroline: Three words. Wanderlust betting pool. We did not know each other when you came to me with the idea for that betting pool and I will be forever thankful that you did. I was still so new to the fandom and to hear that my fic had captivated you to the point of wanting to create something that would engage the readers more than I ever could have. While Wanderlust will always be my baby, it was you who made it an event. It was you who brought so many people into this fandom and if it wasn’t for that collaboration, I honestly do not know if I would have kept writing.

And to everyone who leaves a review, whether it be for me or someone else,

Thank You

Erica

Of something beautiful, but annihilating🚬1

Warnings: nonconsensual sex, violence and abuse, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of death [other warning to be added throughout series]

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader’s husband brings home an unexpected houseguest.

Note: So i just worked my ass off and retail is always crummy this time of year so I’m gonna escape with some sweet Arvin Russell writing. 

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

The spring air was warm as the breeze swept over the low fence and fluttered the tails of shirts hung across the line. You grabbed two pegs and a swathe of damp fabric and stretched it over the cord, pinning it in place before moving along. Your old machine had taken much of the day to wrangle and had even received a kick. It was decades old, an heirloom inherited with the old country house and much more clunky than the modern machines. Not many in the county had anything more than the old wringing machines.

Roy would be home soon. Your husband hated to hear about how the wringer jammed so easily and the fear that your fingers might again be bruised by the mechanism. Even so, you were certain it wouldn't last for much longer. It's rattles foretold its imminent fate. You'd be back to a bucket and board soon enough.

As you hung the last piece, Roy's oil stained overalls, you heard the putter of the truck. You picked up the woven basket and headed for the gate along the front of the house. You waved as he pulled up, tires loudly mulching the dirt, and you stopped short as he came to a jagged halt. He wasn't alone and you were stillwearing your grimy and wet apron.

Roy pushed his door open so roughly it creaked. He stepped out and gave an exaggerated stretch as he glanced across the roof of the truck and slammed the door.

"Don't forget your bag, boy," he growled at the other man as he felt around the chest pocket of his overall for his smokes. "Looks like you're too late for laundry day."

"Roy?" You unclasped the gate and opened it as Roy stomped across the gravel and lit up a smoke, "How was your day?" 

You peeked over at the other man who climbed out of the truck. He wore similar overall, though they were unbuttoned over a greasy white shirt, and he was shorter and thinner than your husband. He reached back into the truck and grabbed a long military style duffel before he swung the door shut. 

Your husband grumbled and blew out a mouthful of smoke.

"We have a guest?" You asked as you stayed by the gate.

"Arvin Russell," Roy flicked the ash away, "You remember I was talkin' 'bout renting out the attic."

"Um, yes," you blinked as the other man, Arvin, neared meekly. Roy had mentioned the idea once when he noticed the way his truck had started rumbling.  "It'll need a good dusting."

"So you better get on that." Roy coughed. "What's for dinner?"

"Meatloaf," you answered and turned back to smile at the other man as he bowed his head and passed through the gate.

"Hello, missus," he said kindly, "Nice to meet ya. I work with your husband, says you're a fine cook."

"The one thing she can do," Roy muttered as he ambled up the steps of the porch and dropped onto the bench sat by the window. "You go grab us some bottles."

You closed the gate behind Arvin but he waited for you to precede him before going any further. He was surprisingly polite for any man who worked at the shop. 

"Yes, Roy," you hid your disappointment. Those nights when Roy started drinking before dinner rarely ended well.

"Can I just have some water?" Arvin asked as he followed you onto the porch, "Please. I didn't get to my lunch today so I'm not really feeling like drinking."

"Of course," you said, "If you're hungry, I got a box of crackers and some cheese I can bring out."

"Thank you but I'd hate to spoil dinner." Arvin sat on the end of the bench and kept his bag between his feet as Roy threw away his cigarette. "Thank you both for having me."

You nodded and quickly skirted inside. You were a bit confounded by Roy's sudden burst of generosity. He rarely did anything for anyone else. To think he'd offer a room to a coworker was unlike him.

You went to the old fridge, marked with dings and dents, and wiggled the handle until it opened. You remember the day you Pa had broken the handle, he'd always promised to fix it but had only managed to make it worse. You missed him. It was easy to miss him in this old place. His wedding present to you and Roy. It was too tragic he hadn't lived long enough to see you enjoy it.

You grabbed a brown bottle then filled a tall glass from the tap. You went back to the door and opened it with your elbow. You handed Roy his beer as Arvin stood to accept his glass of water.

"Thank you," he chimed but your husband only popped the cap of his beer with his teeth and glared out at the yard.

"Well dinner is in the oven still. I'll just be finishing that before I get started in the attic." You told Roy but he only shrugged and gulped down the beer. "Let me know if you boys need anything." 

"Peace and quiet," Roy snarled. "S'all I need right now."

Arvin gave a sympathetic look and traced his thumb along the side of the glass. You hid your discomfort and retreated inside. That was just Roy. He was always in a mood after work. An hour or two and he would mellow out. The beer would surely help.

🚬

When you finished supper, you called the men in to eat. Roy started his second beer as Arvin remained quiet and awkward at the table. You didn’t say much as you pondered the work still left to be done. You had to tidy the attic before the night ended and collect the laundry from the line. You would also have to clear the table and clean up the mess of your cooking.

You stood before the men finished. You scraped your untouched scraps into the dish of leftovers and placed the glass lid on it. You scoured the loaf pan as you listened to the clink of cutlery on plates and set the pots on the drying rack. You returned to the men to gather their empty dishes and Arvin thank you as Roy belched and stood with a satisfied but gruff rumble.

Arvin watched you as you tried to ignore the pity in his face. You knew your husband wasn’t the most loving or vocal, but he was yours and he worked hard. You turned away and went back to the kitchen. You finished washing the last of the glassware and dried it before stacking it in the cupboards.

As you passed through the dining room, Arvin was gone and you could hear the buzz of the radio from the front room. Roy always liked to listen to the game after he ate. Sometimes you sat with him and crocheted or read but not often.

You tiptoed upstairs and found the footstool hidden in the bottom of the linen closet. You climbed onto the step and reached up to unhook the cord of the attic door. It dangled down and you pulled it carefully as you backed off the stool and kicked it away. The steps unfolded and you barely stepped out of the way of their descent as the heavy wood thumped against the carpet.

It had been a while since you ventured up to the third floor. There was only dust and forgotten memories up there. You slowly made your way up and sneezed as you reached the top. A wall of boxes blocked the window along the front of the house and shrouded furniture sat beneath grimy sheets.

You started with the boxes. You took one and peeked under the flaps. Some old oil lamps hoarded by your father from his own parents. You awkwardly made your way back down to the second floor and placed the box at the bottom. When you had them all down, you’d take them into your father’s old room to store. Perhaps you should sort through them at last and get rid of the unneeded artifacts.

You were six boxes deep when you were startled by a shadow in the open hatch. You exclaimed and nearly dropped your armful as Arvin poked his head through and peered over at you.

“Arvin,” you gasped. “My apologies, this place is a mess.”

“Not so bad,” he climbed up and stood, “You need some help?”

“Don’t be silly, I can manage--”

“You’re right. It’s a mess,” he insisted, “A lot for just one person.”

You stared at him and gave a small smile. He was funny. He neared you and reached out for the box in your arms.

“How about this, I’ll stay on the ladder and you bring the boxes to me and I’ll take ‘em down.” He took the box gently from you, “It’ll be much quicker.”

You looked into his soft brown eyes and let him. He backed away and cautiously made his way down the ladder. You turned and grabbed another box and he reappeared through the hatch. You handed him the box of figurines and he retreated once more. You carried on and soon, the boxes were stacked high on the lower floor.

“Alright,” Arvin climbed up and dusted off his hands, “Already lookin’ better.”

He neared the old sofa against the wall and pulled off the sheet. He coughed as the dust was kicked up and it soon turned into a chuck as he waved away the cloud.

“We can keep this here,” he draped the sheet over his arm and pulled the next from the tall lamp with the glass shade, “Move this into the corner,” he continued on and peeked under a sheet before unveiling the tall shelf, “If you don’t mind, of course?”

“Not at all. We should’ve sold all this years ago.” You teetered on your heels anxiously. Every piece reminded you of your father. “There’s a cot folded up over there,” you pointed behind a hidden end table, “But that wouldn’t be much better than the floor.”

“It’ll do,” he assured you and turned to sit on the sofa. He bounced as he hugged the sheets. “This isn’t too bad.”

“Well, there’s a bed down in my pa’s room. We could try to bring it up tomorrow. If you don’t mind offerin’ a little more help.” You wrung your hands. You were never very good with strangers and Roy’s friends often weren’t much nicer than him. You were tense, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“I think I could do that,” he stood and wiggled his nose as a sneeze threatened. “You got a broom? Maybe a duster?”

“You’ve done enough, I can finish it--”

“Ma’am, I’m a guest in your home. I might be paying for the room but it doesn’t make you my maid,” he intoned, “You’ve already done more than enough. I don’t think I’ve eaten so well since before my momma died.”

“Oh, I’m… sorry,” you uttered. “I--”

“Now, don’t be sorry,” he cooed, “Nothing to be sorry for. I assume you lost your daddy if his bed is free.” 

You nodded dumbly and blinked.

“Well, at least let me take these,” you reached for the sheets and he hesitated before he let you take them. You struggled to keep them balled up and hugged them against your hip as you turned back to the hatch. “I’ll bring you the broom.”

“Thank you,” he said behind you and you looked back at him as you took your first step down the ladder, “You let me know when you bring that washin’ in and I’ll help you fold.”

“You don’t have to--”

“I want to. Makes me feel a little better about stealin’ your attic,” he assured you.

You looked down and slowly descended. As your feet met the carpet, you sighed and looked around at the boxes. You couldn’t remember a time Roy had ever offered to help with anything. If it wasn’t to do with his truck, he couldn’t be bothered to lift a finger.

🚬

You were completely drained by the time you retired to your bedroom. You were still on edge, your exhaustion laced with anxiety as you unbuttoned your blouse. You sat on the side of the bed as you slowly undressed. It was still absurd to you that another person, barely more than a stranger, was living in your home. In your father’s house.

It changed your whole routine. You couldn’t help but go over it in your mind. That meant three plates, not two, for every meal, that meant the laundry basket would fill up quicker, than meant the shoes tracks in the front entrance would need to be mopped up more often. That mean you had to act like your marriage was truly happy.

You pulled on your night gown, the short sleeves tickled your upper arms as you dropped your clothes in the wicker basket on your chest of drawers. A framed photo of your parents’ wedding day sat beside it and on the shelf beside the door, was your own wedding portrait.

Three years wasn’t so long but it felt an eternity. You couldn’t quite recall when Roy had changed. When the beer had started to taint his kisses and his words. When all pretense fell away and only the man remained. The brutish country boy with the churlish demeanour.

Maybe the first day of your marriage. Maybe. You were so nervous on your wedding night that it angered him. You’d mend your dress one day, hopefully when you had a daughter of your own so you had something to promise her. 

Or maybe a week after the wedding, when you broke the vase gifted to you upon your nuptials and it shattered across the floor. Roy’s booming voice and his boulder-like fists.

Maybe, maybe, maybe, a month in when the world went black with his hand on your throat and you awoke alone on the kitchen floor.

Maybe a year when your finger was dislocated by a slammed door. Maybe the next year when you couldn’t sit for the pain in your hips. Maybe the one after when he’d grown impatient for a child only to find your sheets soaked in blood. 

Maybe it had always been there, from the first date, but you’d simply refused to accept it. Not you. Not Roy. You loved him and he loved you, didn’t he?

The door slammed and shook you from your sombre recollections. You looked up as Roy stumbled in. He snickered darkly as your eyes met his and his legs wobbled beneath him drunkenly.

You slid off the bed and turned to plant your elbows on the mattress. A prayer before bed, as your grandmother had taught you. Another sarcastic chuckle aimed in your direction as Roy’s stained white tee missed the basket.

“On your knees for me already,” he sat beside your elbow as he unbuckled his belt.

You couldn’t focus on your inner recitation. You could smell the alcohol on him, the stench of oil and his sweat. You clutched your hands together and cleared your throat.

“Why didn’t you call me?” You asked calmly.

He frowned and stood to shove his pants past his knees. He kicked the jeans away and fell heavily back to the bed.

“Call you?” He sneered.

“To let me know about our guest?” You wondered innocently. “I could’ve readied for him better.”

“Workin’,” he growled. “I don’t got time to be callin’ you with my head under an engine. Fuckin’ Christ.”

“There isn’t a bed in the attic.” You said.

“So. Arv’s small enough. I’ve seen him sleep on a stool.” Roy spat. 

You hid your chagrin behind your hands as you pressed them to your lips.

“Why’d you bring him?”

Roy’s nostrils flared and a fist formed atop his hairy thigh. “I gotta explain to you?” He snapped. “He paid me outright and he been sleepin’ at the motel since he started.”

“Mr. Dace has a room--”

“Mr. Dace lives twice as far as we do. I did the kid a favour. He saved my ass his first day.” Roy stomped his foot. “Woulda burned down the whole garage if he hadn’t caught that leak.”

“Kid? He that young?”

“Couple years younger than you, I s’pose, maybe less,” Roy rubbed his cheeks and shook his head, “What’s it matter to you?”

“Curious,” you said quietly and closed your eyes as you rested your chin on your knuckles.

Roy was quiet. He let out a long, thick breath and the bed jolted beneath your arms.

“You finished bleeding?” He asked gruffly. 

“I’m praying, Roy,” you insisted.

“How long’s it take you? I’m sure God’s heard it all before.”

“Don’t talk like that, R--”

You squeaked as he grabbed your wrist and wrenched your arms away. He rose and lifted you with him. Always a strong man, he moved you like a puppet to his will. He took your other wrist and pulled you against him.

“You know, I don’t even care if you’re bleeding.” He turned you and shoved you onto the bed. You cried out as you bounced so hard you bit your tongue.

“Roy, please, I’m tired,” you stared up at him fearfully as you pushed yourself up on your elbows. You could taste blood.

“You’re my wife. You do your duty.” He pushed his underwear down as his cock twitched. “You got energy to wash all them clothes, you can lay on your back for your husband.”

“Roy--”

“Shut up!” He shouted. “We got company. I don’t need ya keepin’ him up with your whining.”

You closed your eyes as he fell onto you. He crushed you beneath him as he tugged your skirt up harshly. He pushed your legs apart with his knee and you braced yourself for his painful intrusion. Even so long into the marriage, you had never grown used to his touch.

He retracted his hand and began to touch himself. He stroked his cock as he swore under his breath.

“Fuck. Come on.” He moved his hand quicker and rubbed his soft tip against your folds. “Open up.” 

He forced his dick against your entrance and tried to push inside. He was still half-flaccid and struggled to get further than an inch. You balled your hands and sank your head into the mattress as he thrust. He fell out of you, softer than before.

You opened your eyes sat up on his knees and looked down at his limp dick. He gritted his teeth as you watched him.

“You fuckin’ bitch,” he punched your stomach as hard as he could and you wheezed as you folded in on yourself. “Can’t even keep me hard.”

“Roy--” You hissed. “I’m s--”

“One more word and you’ll be real sorry.” He pushed himself from between your legs, making certain to pinch you as he did.

He stood and turned. You barely moved out of the way before he sprawled over his side of the mattress. You held your stomach, a painful pressure lodge there, and rolled to the edge of the bed. You reached over and pulled the chain on the lamp. 

As you laid back, Roy caught the back of your neck and kept you in a painful limbo.

“On the floor,” he jarred your neck as he tried to throw you off the bed. “Like the dog you are.”

You slid off the side and landed sharply on your knees. You stifled a shameful sob and lowered yourself down onto your side. You bent your knees and cushioned your head on one arm. You stared into the void beneath the bed as the frame groaned beneath Roy’s heavy body.

“Goddamn bitch,” he uttered groggily. “Fuckin’--”

His words turned to snores as he finally drowned in his bellyful of beer. You listened to his jagged, drunken breaths as you shivered on the cold wood. You closed your eyes and recalled the first night you’d slept on the floor. You’d been in much poorer shape and it had been the dead of winter.

At least, you didn’t have to sleep next to him.

Here is my second attempt at writing Thrawn, much longer this time! Again if you have any criticisms or feedback then please feel free to share!

Read on AO3.

Summary: Lieutenant Thrawn meets the reader (gender neutral) at the Ascension Week celebrations on Coruscant, and she offers to show him around her art gallery. (Based roughly on the 2017 Thrawn book). 

Pairing: Thrawn x Reader (gender neutral, Thrawn is still a Lieutenant at this point).

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 1,715.

A Keen Eye

If you'd learned at least one thing from your meeting with Lieutenant Thrawn, it was that he was passionate about art. 

He wasn't simply an admirer or even a collector; he'd told you in detail about how he used an enemy's artwork in order to anticipate their tactics in battle, and ultimately defeat them. From what you could gather from his companions, this proved to be effective far more often than not. Your own companions scoffed dismissively at these claims, and not so politely ushered your group away from Thrawn towards more powerful, influential partygoers. 

However, you believed you could understand where Thrawn was coming from, and you felt compelled to see his analysis in action. After all, it wouldn’t exactly be an inconvenience to you, as he could simply meet you at your own art gallery here on Coruscant. Furthermore, it didn’t take a keen eye for art to notice Thrawn’s strikingly good looks; his dark blue skin and illuminating red eyes caused him to stand out among the other guests, and he was what drew you over here in the first place. If he didn’t appear to be interested in any romantic prospects, you figured you could at least have some fascinating discussions about the pieces in your gallery. 

"I had best follow my companions. However, Lieutenant Thrawn, I'd like to observe your analysis of artwork and the military conclusions you draw in person. Please, take my comm details and contact me to arrange a meeting at my gallery - that is, if you have any spare time." You smiled at him as you offered him your comlink.

His eyes flicked briefly between your face and the comlink, as though he was unsure how to proceed. You tried to read his face; it was unwavering and unreadable. Well, almost. You could have sworn you saw the corner of his mouth slightly upturn into a smile.

Taking your comlink and quickly inputting his details, he responded coolly, "That would be most pleasant. Allow me to check my schedule for my remaining days on Coruscant, and I shall respond with my availability." 

As he handed you back your comlink, your fingers brushed for a brief second. The fleeting contact was intoxicating, yet his expression remained unvarying. It was almost impossible to tell how he felt about the momentary brush of your hands, or if he could tell that your proposition was identical to that of a date. 

"Of course. It was delightful meeting the three of you, and I hope to see you again soon." Politely smiling at Ensign Vanto and Colonel Yularen, you reluctantly trailed after your friends, leaving you with the rest of the evening to reflect on your meeting with Lieutenant Thrawn.

**

It was late; with your thoughts consumed by your encounter with Thrawn, you had left the celebrations and gone to bed at your apartment on Coruscant. Awoken by the faint alert of your comlink, you drowsily sat up and picked it up, allowing the incoming transmission through. 

“Apologies if I woke you. This is Lieutenant Thrawn.” His smooth voice echoed out of the comlink. 

“No, not at all. And, please, there’s no need for titles when we’re alone.” You boldly suggested. From what you could gather, Thrawn was exceptionally good at reading body language and tone, so you tried to convey your desire for a more informal relationship, in case he hadn’t gathered the implications behind your invitation.

“Of course.” You were certain you could hear a smile behind his voice. “This may be of short notice, but I will only remain on Coruscant for another day. There is a lapse in my schedule tomorrow evening, and I leave the following morning. I would like to see the works in your gallery, and hopefully demonstrate my... abilities to you then.”

He was incredibly difficult to read -even more so when you couldn’t see him in person, but you were sure that you could detect a hint of flirtation in his tone.

“Tomorrow evening works for me. Allow me to send you its location. If you need any directions or your schedule suddenly changes, then feel free to contact me. I’ve got my comlink on me at all times.” 

“Thank you. I look forward to meeting you again soon.” Your comlink clicked off, and Thrawn was gone once again. 

You laid back down and allowed your mind to drift off to sleep, thoughts consumed by the mysterious Lieutenant Thrawn and your ‘date’ tomorrow. 

**

You’d spent all day debating on whether or not to close the gallery and give Thrawn a private tour, and, eventually, you decided against it. It was never busy at this time of night anyway, and you didn’t want to appear too forward if you had in fact misinterpreted his intentions, and he really was here to only demonstrate his analytical abilities. Then came the matter of your outfit; he’d provided a rough estimation of his time of arrival, so you couldn’t exactly run off and change into something more ‘date-worthy’ before he arrived, but if you dressed in your regular work clothes then Thrawn may believe that this meeting was strictly business. After much deliberation, you’d settled on an in between that appeared professional, yet a little flirtatious.

Once that was sorted, all you had to do was wait. Many admirers came and went, as did the occasional interested buyer, yet the minutes passed by slowly as you anxiously anticipated his arrival. Normally, you would consider yourself a fairly confident, collected individual, if somewhat an overthinker, but in comparison to Thrawn? You felt almost neurotic. 

Although he’d spent almost a full day now preoccupying your mind, all coherent thoughts dissipated out of your head once he finally stepped into your gallery. He was precisely on time, and wearing simple black garments that had presumably been issued to him by the Empire upon his admission into the academy. From what Colonel Yularen had said, Thrawn had been practically discovered by the Empire, as his home planet was not in a region familiar to you. He also hadn’t mentioned what species he was; at first guess he appeared to be Pantoran, yet his glowing red eyes suggested otherwise. You made a mental note to ask him at some point this evening. Furthermore, you realised he actually hadn’t told you his last name -or maybe he hadn’t told you his first name? As your lack of true knowledge about the man who stood in front of you became more and more apparent, it began to feel like an incredibly stupid idea to invite him here.

Though, it was too late to do anything about that now. I guess I’ll have to make sure I learn everything I didn’t think to ask, you thought as you approached him. His expression was indecipherable, as, you began to suspect, it always was.

“Welcome, Thrawn. May I call you that, or is that your surname? I didn’t think to ask yesterday.” You bit the bullet and chewed your way through the awkward question. 

“It is Mitth'raw'nuruodo. My native language is Cheunh, and Chiss is the name of my species.” He broke eye contact and looked around at the gallery, and you did the same. Currently, it was just the two of you in there. “May I ask how you came to acquire the gallery and its pieces?” 

Though, Thrawn didn’t appear to find it awkward at all. Your eyes locked, and that same small smile you identified the night before appeared on his face. “Yes, you may call me Thrawn. That is my core name, as Chiss names can be difficult for many species to pronounce.”

“Ah, I understand. May I hear it anyway? And, is Chiss the name of your language then?” You asked delicately, although Thrawn appeared unbothered by your questions. 

“Well, I’ve had a passion for art since I was very little, both painting and admiring it. I practiced as much as I could with every bit of free time I had, and I took any even remotely artistic jobs. If a neighbour wanted their walls painted, I’d do it for free and they’d let me keep any leftover paint afterwards. All of my money went towards buying canvases, sketchbooks, paint, brushes, even spray cans. Sometimes I’d even spray paint murals, though I think everyone else saw that as graffiti and vandalism rather than art.” You paused, and the two of you locked eyes again. He was listening intently, so you decided to continue on. “Anyway, as I got older I’d sell my paintings, but it didn’t provide enough money for me to live on, so I begged Zena, the old owner of the gallery, to give me a job here. I did small things at first, like sweeping floors and cleaning picture frames, but eventually I got to lead tours and meet with other artists. When she retired, she left the place to me, and here we are now.” 

Thrawn paused for a few moments, as though he was fully taking in and understanding your words. “How fascinating. Do you still paint now?” Thrawn began to walk slowly towards the closest painting on display.

“Yes, whenever I have any inspiration or time.” You followed close behind, intently watching his focused stare on the painting in front of him. 

He then turned back to you, and stopped just before the painting. “Is any on display? May I see it?” He questioned. 

“No, it’s all in the back in our studio. Plus, I’ve never fought any kind of battle in my life, so I doubt you’re going to be able to observe any military tactics from my paintings.” 

“Perhaps, perhaps not. Many do not realise exactly what their artwork can reveal about themselves or their culture as a whole. So, although you may have never fought before, I could look at your work and anticipate your possible movements and strategies if we were to engage in battle, whether that be in a ship or in hand to hand combat. I have demonstrated it in this particular way once previously with a friend.” 

He noticed the slightly apprehensive look on your face, and smiled. “Of course, we do not have to fight. That would not be very typical behaviour on a date, would it?”

sticking it - j. farabee

chapter 1

a/n: ok, this chapter is very dialogue heavy lmao, but yolo. (feedback is always welcome, feel free to send asks about the series, i would absolutely love to talk about it.) i’m also kinda debating to have a ‘sticking it’ blurb night sometime soon?? anyways i hope you all enjoy this one 

taglist: @butgilinsky @barbienoturbby @sunsetholland @lovenhlboys @sortagaysortahigh @hockey-racing-fubol @oopsiedoopsie23​ (if you want to be added, just send me an ask)

warnings: uh, kathryn? that can be considered a warning i think, swearing, i think that’s it? if i missed anything lmk 

sticking it masterlist

wc: 3.2k

(gif not mine)

“You want me to go where with you?” Joel asked the group in front of him.

“My cousin has a gymnastics meet and we were wondering if you wanted to go with us tonight after practice?” Kevin repeated for the third time. 

“Dude, you have to come. These things are surprisingly super fun, it’s not hockey and there’s no physical fighting, but it’s still pretty cool,” Travis said, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Are you guys going to keep asking until I say yes?” to which Kevin, Nolan, and TK all nodded their heads. “Fine, I’ll go.”

“Ok, sweet. Karly is planning on coming, too, so I’ll just meet you guys there,” Travis interjected as he grabbed his practice bag. 

“We’ll pick you up around 4:30, we have to get there early since Pat has to give his pep talk, all traditional stuff, yada, yada, yada,” Kevin said. 

“Yeah, okay, just let me know when you’re on your way,” Joel said as the two of them went to their cars. 

…..

“y/n, I don’t understand why you’re still worried, your knee will be fine,” Nicole reassured you as the two of you walked into the arena, “Adrian already said you’ve been out for long enough and he’s waiting to hear news of the y/n y/l/n revenge tour, you can’t let him down, dude.”

You rolled your eyes, “well, Adrian can suck it up, he’ll be fine.”

“Ok, that’s how you want to be, then tell Marcus and Michelle that you’re scratching every event today. It’s fine by me, you’re my competition, but good luck petitioning onto the Olympic team after that,” Nicole said, walking ahead of you towards the locker rooms to get dressed. 

“Wait, Nic, stop,” you quickly followed after her, “Your reverse psychology isn’t going to work on me, but I’m not scratching every event.”

“That’s what I thought. Now, babes, you have to realize you’re going to be okay and getting in your head about it will only push you back ten steps. And I missed having actual competition,” Nicole caught the small smile on your face in the mirror, “ok, we honestly have to get ready if we want to have time in the tunnels before we compete.” 

Grabbing your garment bag that held your competition leo and warm-ups in, you started to get ready. Quickly getting your leo on, you took note of how beautiful the new leo was. A navy blue, long sleeve leo with mesh sleeves and rhinestone decals or as Michelle always called it ‘all blinged out’. Once you put on your warm up pants, you did a light makeup look that was pretty much just eye shadow and mascara and then pulled your hair up in a tight, but simple messy bun. 

“Are your boys coming tonight?” Nicole asked, meeting you by the door of the locker room. “Yeah, you know Kevin wouldn’t miss it, but I don’t know if anyone else is coming,” you replied. 

“Oh, well Nolan better be here, you need your pep talk,” Nicole added which made you laugh, “okay, well I’m going to let you do your pre-warm up-warm up and I’ll see you out there soon. You got this, babes.” 

Once you saw Nicole leave the tunnel, you immediately put your headphones in and started listening to one of the hype playlist that Nolan had put together for you. You went through visualizing your routines, visualizing the perfect motions, tumbling, and skills. You were stretching your legs out when you heard a familiar laugh sound from one side of the hallway, turning you saw Karly, TK, Nolan, Kev, and then beside them, Joel Farabee. 

You had never met him personally, but you had seen him play enough times to know who he was. He was also usually included in game highlights if you missed a game, so you were well aware how significant he was to the team. 

You stood up quickly and made your way over to them, “Karly, omg, I’ve missed you, babes. Tiki Bar, I’m still planning on stealing your girlfriend, just so you know.”

“You really have your priorities in order, don’t you, y/n/n?” Travis said.

“I like to think so. Hey, Kev, thank you for bringing your friends along for the y/n y/l/n revenge tour.”

“Dude, you didn’t mention this tour?” Nolan questioned. 

“Oh, well Adrian said this is my comeback meet, so it’s a revenge tour to show how cool I am,” when you got a nod in response from Nolan, you looked over to Joel who stood awkwardly beside him, “Farabee, do you talk or just stand awkwardly 24/7?”

When he heard you say his name, his eyebrows rose in surprise, “how come you know me, but I don’t know you?”

“Well, you see, I actually talk to people instead of just standing off to the side awkwardly. Plus, you’re literally Kev’s teammate, so it would be bad if I didn’t realize who you were.”

“I feel like you’re just upset I wasn’t talking to you, babe,” Joel added. 

“Awe, yes, of course. The pain in my heart from not talking to you is unbearable, thank you for sparing a few words,” you said sarcastically, placing your hand over your heart.

“Ok, children, that’s enough of that for today. We just came to wish you good luck, we’re going to go wait outside the tunnel so that way you can get your pep talk as usual. Now, c’mon, Beezer,” Kevin pushed Joel out of the way and towards the exit before he could say anything else. 

“Are we skipping over that for right now or?” Nolan asked as you walked back to where you were standing by the wall before they came over. When he got a simple nod in response he let out a simple ok, “what event are you starting on?”

“Floor. I’m pretty sure at least.”

“Ok, what’s the worst thing about the floor for you right now?” and the two of you talked about each event like you did every competition. Nolan doing his best to make sure that you talked out everything that was on your mind. Giving you a quick hug and a quick you got this, he made his way back towards his seat. You made your way back to get your warm up jacket from the locker room and went to find Marcus. 

By the time Nolan had made it back to his seat, the announcement that warm up and stretching would start now went off. “Ok, I genuinely thought the only people that did gymnastics were like 10 year olds,” Joel said. 

“10 year olds doing gymnastics is honestly a really boring thing to watch. Like when y/n was 10, I hated going to her meets. She was good, yeah, but it was boring and all of them had the same routines. 0/10 would not recommend,” Kevin added. 

“Are we all just ignoring whatever the fuck happened when y/n/n met Joel? Or was I the only one that noticed?” Nolan was shocked by the fact that no one had mentioned it. When the group went quiet for a moment, the only thing that could be heard was Karly holding back a laugh. “Care to share with the class, Karly?”

“Nope. I want to see how this one plays out before I make any comments,” to which the whole group looked at her confused. “It’s a developing story. It has to develop, obviously.”

Once the national anthem was over, the first event that you had was floor. “y/n/n, I don’t care how you do today, I just need you to go for everything. You have it in you to get high scores anyways, so just focus on doing your skills,” Marcus said, “you just have to do this 1 minute and 30 second routine, land all your tumbling, do your jumps well, stay tight, and you got this.”

“Representing the United States of America, y/n y/l/n on floor,” the announcer read over the loudspeaker. 

“Alright Twinkle Toes, go have fun out there,” Marcus told you one last time before you made your way up to the floor. You stood there anxiously, awaiting the judges who were somehow never ready on time to salute you. Once they did salute you, you flashed your best smile and marched onto the floor, going to your beginning pose. 

The group up in the stands were anxiously awaiting for your music to start, which did include Kevin having to yell at Joel to put his phone up before you performed. All of them believed in you, but this was your first competition back and they weren’t sure how it would go. Would you be back to your old competition level? Better? Would you hurt your knee again? They knew the risks, but simply pushed it to the back of their head. 

Just stick the landings. Four tumbling passes. Three leap series. Two turns. And one score. You have worked your ass off to get back to where you are now; this was your comeback and if you started off great, you could only go up from there. Hearing the beep that signaled that the floor music was starting, the first few notes of ‘Feeling Good’ rang out and you started your routine. 

Starting off your routine with a small dance combo and some poses, you went straight in with two back to back tumbling passes. After the first tumbling pass, the tension in your body eased up. You were back in your element for the first time officially since your injury and you couldn’t have felt better. Right now you didn’t care what score you got, you were just happy to be back. You went for your leaps and jumps, then your final two tumbling passes. 

After finishing your routine in your end pose, you saluted the judges again and practically ran back to Marcus. “I did it, oh my god. I did that,” you weren’t in shock, but the realization finally hit you that you had officially had a great start to the comeback tour. “Yeah, we all knew you could, y/n/n. I’m not shocked,” Marcus hugged you. 

When the camera came around as results of your routine came back, you simply smiled and waved towards the camera as you listened to Marcus tell you the plan for the rest of the competition. When the score results came up, it showed that you were in first place. Everyone else had competed in one event already, so you knew it wasn’t just an accident. You were back. 

“Dude, are you crying?” TK nudged Kevin, who quickly wiped his tears. 

“No, but if I were, it’s a completely valid response to a time like this,” Kevin said quickly. 

What you hadn’t noticed from where you were was how much Joel had been watching you. Before your routine started, he couldn’t have been less interested, but once he saw you performing and the smile on your face after you finished your routine he was hooked. Everyone did take note of how much he was watching you, especially Karly. 

“And the story keeps developing,” she thought. 

With a good score on vault and on bars, you were still doing fine in the meet - it was you and Kathryn Davis for first and second, but this event would show who won all around. The only event that you had left was beam, you only hoped that your hesitation wasn’t as obvious as you felt. You obviously wouldn’t be doing the dismount, you were just going to do a double back that you had solid and weren’t afraid of doing. But even with that, you still had fears looming around a dismount you knew like the back of your hand. 

The fear that you had for beam was evident when you had a few too many wobbles - which made your score lower - luckily there were no falls, but it still affected your score. Even with a lower score you still beat Kathryn in All Around, but came third on beam. 

After awards and talks with media, you made your way back to the locker room to get your gym bag. “y/n, oh my god. Babes, you did amazing. I’m so proud of you,” Nicole came rushing in for a hug. 

“Thanks, Nic. I’m just glad to be back, winning was just a plus,” you said, smiling, “do you still plan on coming with me, Karly, and the guys if we go out to eat?” to which she simply nodded. The two of you made your way to the usual spot you met Kevin after a gymnastics meet. 

Eventually the group made their way over there, all of them quickly congratulating you. “y/n/n, I hope you know how proud I am of you right now,” Kevin said softly after hugging you, “you’ve come such a long way and you rocked it today.”

“KD is slowly approaching,” Nolan said. 

“y/n, omg, it was so cool competing against you. Sorry to have beat you on beam though, maybe if you tried your dismount you would have won,” she said, a fake smile on her face.

“Well, sweetie. You do know that’s just one event right? In everything else, I still beat you. Even when I hurt myself last year, I still somehow ended up with the gold, so you honestly have nothing to brag about,” you said, your fake smile matching hers.

“I see you brought your hockey players to help you out here, how nice of them.”

Everyone watched cautiously, Kevin ready to pull you back if he needed to; Nolan, TK, and Karly were all ready to jump in and help you fight; while Joel just stood there realizing how much he liked seeing you when you were mad. A lovely dynamic for today. 

“Hun, if anyone needs help, it’s you. Especially in the math department, apparently. But congrats on the one gold medal, you deserve it,” and with that you stepped away from her and towards the doors of the arena. 

Somehow Joel was the one that was walking closest to you, “hey, you ok?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. She just annoys me a lot, nothing crazy,” you shrugged. 

“You did good today. It’s crazy what you can do out there honestly,” he said genuinely. 

“Awe, Farabee, that’s so sweet. ”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get used to it, babe,” he said, slightly nudging you.

“Are you guys seeing this, too?” Karly asked the guys walking beside her, “like y/n and Bee? Or are your eyes not working today?”

“Maybe we shouldn’t have introduced the two?” Kevin says looking back towards you two just as you trip Farabee, “yeah, maybe not the wisest decision?” 

“Haha, suck on that on-,” your sentence interrupted as he pulled your shin to where you ended up on the ground of the parking lot beside him, “that was uncalled for, Bee.” 

“No, it was perfectly reasonable, you were rude to me earlier, so it’s payback.” 

“What the fuck is she doing on the ground?” Nicole asked as she caught up to the group, confused by your and Joel’s actions, to which everyone around her simply shrugged. 

…..

“There she is, the gymnastics superstar. How was the first night of the ‘y/n y/l/n Revenge Tour?” Adrian asked as you entered his office. 

“Eh, same old, same old. You win some and you lose some, and then people are extremely petty about the fact that they lost, so they bring up a traumatic injury that you hardly ever talk about while making fun of you losing an event, yada, yada, yada,” you smiled. 

“Didn’t really know all that, but I’m proud of you,” Adrian led you over to sit on the bench, so that he could check your knee, “your knee looks- why is there a phone number written on your shin?” 

“Ohhh, haha. About that. I forgot to wash it off,” you said simply. 

“Girl, I know there is way more to that story that you aren’t sharing. C’mon spill.” 

“Ok, well basically. Kevin brought one of his teammates to the game, and there’s this kinda like tension that’s there, but it’s not. So, I kinda tripped him in the parking lot to show that I’m so in love with him and he tripped me back, then we all went out to eat. We’re basically engaged now, we’ve already bought a house and a dog,” you said in a monotone voice. 

“Ok, enough with the attitude, I just asked about the boy. So, what’s his name?”

“Joel Farabee.”

“What’s your specific nickname for him?” Adrian placed some athletic tape below your knee, just as precaution.

“Bee, but he doesn’t have a specific one from me yet, we aren’t that close,” you jokingly rolled your eyes, “no, but he couldn’t find a blank piece of paper, so he just wrote his number on my shin.”

“Did he not see your arm? And have you texted him yet?” Adrian asked as you started with your daily drills, rolling his eyes when he saw you shake your head, “look, he’s a hockey player. I have dealt with a few of those. 7/10, might recommend. They’re interesting individuals, that’s all I can say. But you have to text him.”

“Ok, well read me the number and I’ll text him,” opening your phone, you pulled up your texts, “wait, what the fuck do I say?”

“Well, there’s this word in the English language that works as a simple greeting when you don’t know what else to say. A three letter word, pretty simple.”

“Adrian. I don’t need the attitude today, this is stressful enough,” you quickly typed up the message and practically threw your phone across the room right after, “there, I did it.”

“Did you just throw your phone?”

“Yep, but I texted him,” you said, holding two thumbs up.

“I didn’t realize how much you doing gymnastics your whole life influenced your social skills. My deepest condolences to you,” the both of you looked over towards where you threw your phone when you heard a notification go off, “you better check that before I do.”

“Okay, fine,” quickly grabbing your phone, answering quickly to which he responded just as fast, “he simply asked if I was going to be at Kevin’s later and if I wanted coffee, so, are we done here?”

“Mhm, get your coffee. And I expect updates.” 

As you were on the drive home, your phone started buzzing continuously, you realized that it was just Nicole, “hey, babes. What’s up?” 

“Have you checked twitter? Or instagram? Or anything?”

“No? I’ve been at P.T, why?”

“You’re not going to like what I’m about to say, so if you’re still in the car, I suggest pulling over for your own safety.”

You pulled into your apartment complex, “ok, I’m home. What’s up?”

“Just check Kathryn’s instagram, but apparently she’s been training her 3.5 dismount on beam for months and she has it now. She said she plans on competing it at the U.S. classic in May.” 

today, tomorrow and all of our lives | n. mackinnon

Word Count: 7.3k Warnings: Some smut in the middle, swearing, minor character death. Summary: Leah reflects on her relationship with Nate through a series of memories they’ve shared in the minutes before they say I do.  a/n: Full disclosure this is the first piece I’ve written in almost 10 years. It turned out way longer than expected and I am so terrified to post it but I hope you all love it as much as I do. Any and all feedback is appreciated, happy reading! 

As she looked into the mirror, running her fingers over the white silk lining her frame, all she felt was calm. Peace. She’d surprised herself in that regard. She’d expected nerves, expected anxiousness, but she didn’t feel either. She simply felt calm. Her fingers moved up toward the tulle settled neatly in her hair, then ran down the fabric of what had once been her grandmother’s veil. Her something borrowed. She thought of her grandmother then, of the relationship between her and her grandfather, one that had lasted almost sixty years before they’d left this life together, just months apart and still madly in love. The kind of love she’d hoped for as she watched them as a child, then as a teen, then as an adult. The same kind of love she felt she’d found when she met him. Her eyes closed, thinking back to the day she’d first laid eyes on him.

The excited little voices of the children filing back into her classroom brought a small smile to Leah’s face in an instant. Kindergarten had just finished art, and as she watched them come in and sit back at their tables, she silently thanked Mrs. Claskey for the lack of paint on their clothes and hands. There’d been a small (according to Mrs. Claskey, not so much to Leah) incident last week at the very end of art class that had somehow ended in Jack Ledger’s entire right arm and half of his shirt covered in brown paint. Of course the 5th graders had already been lined up at the door waiting to come in, so Mrs. Claskey hadn’t had time to clean him up. That’d been a fun afternoon at the sink for Jack and Leah. Once all of the children were seated, Leah stood from her rocking chair at the front of the room and raised her hand. Her students followed suit, having been conditioned to quiet down and raise their own hands when she did so. Their hands lowered as she began to speak.

“Alright, my friends. I know we’re excited, today’s a special day for us. We have new friends coming to spend time with us this week! Do we remember who they are?” As soon as she finished, little hands all over the room shot back up. Leah looked around, pointing to the tiny blonde in the far too large and, Leah suspected second hand, Avalanche jersey dead center. “Emory, who are they?” “The Colorado Avalanche, Ms. Brewer! They play hockey here, at the Pepsi Center! My dad says some day they’ll win the… the um…” “The Stanley Cup?” Leah supplied. That and what information Emory had spoken aloud was about all she knew of them as well, not really following the sport herself. “Yes!” Emory continued, “The Stanley Cup!” Leah nodded and clasped her hands together. “Good job Emory that’s right! Some of the players from the Avalanche are coming to meet us this afternoon. They’re just as excited to meet you as you are to meet them. But before we can do that, we need to talk about the rules for when we have guests in our classroom.” A small groan sounded throughout the room and Leah giggled under her breath. “Okay, okay. I know talking about our rules isn’t always fun, but we want to show them how kind and polite we can be, right?” Twenty-two heads nodded, so she continued. “Good! Okay, who can tell me our rules then? Thomas?” Her gaze fixed on the quiet boy in the back corner, smiling slightly at him as he straightened up in his chair. Leah had been subtly attempting to bring Thomas out of his shell throughout his time in her class. As she remembered his silence and lack of eye contact at the beginning of the year, she felt nothing but pride for how far he’d come. “We don’t leave our spot at the carpet unless you or our guest says that we can. We sit criss cross applesauce and don’t touch our friends while we’re listening. When we want to talk or as a question, we raise our hands until someone calls on us. And we always show kindness to our friends, our visitors and our teachers.” Leah felt a swell of pride at the last bit. She had a great group of kids this year, and though she knew she shouldn’t play favorites, if she’d had a list this class would be up at the top for years to come. Teaching at a school in a low income area of Denver wasn’t what she’d expected herself to do after graduation, but she adored it all the same, and the children she’d taught were all incredibly special to her.

“Good, Thomas! But there’s one more rule we forgot, the most important rule. I know we remember, so how about let’s all say it together?” “Have fun!” “Yes! Have fun! I don’t think it’ll be hard with these new friends.” She glanced up at the clock then that read one o’clock on the dot. “Okay friends, time to make our way to the carpet! Please find your spot in our circle.” As her students got up and made their way to their seats in front of the rocking chair, she heard multiple people enter her room and all twenty-three heads, including her own, turned toward the intruders. Leah studied them for a moment as they made their way through the desks toward the group. There were two of them, both in blue and burgundy jerseys graced with the numbers 29 and 92 and an A and a C, respectively. Excited gasps and whispers filled the front of the room. The first to reach them was 92, and probably the most conventionally attractive man Leah had ever seen in person. His perfectly straight, shining white teeth were on full display, a wide grin stretch prominently across his face. His attention was focused solely on the children, so Leah looked past him and settled her eyes on the other, 29. She was surprised to find his attention fixed on her. She was also surprised at the butterflies that filled her stomach when her eyes met his. The bright blue staring back at her was like a shock to her system. She felt herself blush and quickly averted her gaze down to the jeans, white tank top and baggy yellow cardigan she’d pulled from her closet that morning. ‘Probably would have been a good day to dress it up a bit, Leah.’ She quickly shook herself from her thoughts and smiled at 92, still unable to meet the eyes of 29. “Hi there! I’m Ms. Brewer. We’ve all really been looking forward to this, I know they have especially.” Leah gestured to her excited students, some of the visibly trying to stop themselves from squirming in their places. He smiled at her and took her outstretched hand, shaking it and then setting his sights back to the children. “Hi everybody, we’ve been really excited to meet you! I’m Gabe, and this is Nate.” He gestured behind him to number 29. Nate. The name bounced around her head like a stray pinball. Nathan Mackinnon. She remembered seeing his face plastered over billboards downtown, along with that of who she now remembered 92 to be, captain Gabriel Landeskog. The two large hockey players sat in the admittedly too small chairs in front of the group, and Leah quietly made her way to the corner of the room, plopping in her desk chair to watch the interaction between Gabe, Nate and her students. As they excitedly asked and answered questions and talked about school, hockey and life in general (as much as five and six year old children could), Leah found herself unable to look away from Nate. He wasn’t handsome in the way that Gabe was. His nose and teeth were slightly crooked, and his jaw a bit more squared, but she found him incredibly attractive all the same. He smiled brightly at the group of children in front of him and enthusiastically spoke with them, his laugh speeding up the butterflies she still felt. She again found herself shaking her from her own thoughts, looking down at the papers on her desk. Leah hadn’t dated anyone seriously since her disastrous relationship with Scott had ended just before her college graduation. They had met in high school and began dating junior year, when they were both far too young and impulsive to have actually found the kind of love that was meant to last. They were two different people from the start, Scott preferring to get plastered at a large house party, Leah preferring to spend her Friday night on the couch under a blanket watching bad television. They had somehow lasted through their first three and a half years of college together, though they spent large chunks of it arguing or in silence, before Leah had discovered that the last seven months of their relationship he’d spent in bed with a blonde he’d met in one of his classes. She’d been devastated, but deep down she’d known he wasn’t the man she was meant to marry. Following graduation, she’d packed her things, picked up and moved to Denver for a fresh start, and hadn’t looked back since. She blamed her lack of dating for her current thoughts about Nate. She’d been so lost in her thoughts that she was surprised when she heard one of her students saying her name, immediately turning her attention back to the carpet ready to answer, though she found Millie still speaking to Gabe and Nate. “-she’s the best! She’s so much fun, even when she’s making us do our counting worksheets. Ooh, she lets us sing our weather song every morning, that’s my favorite part of the day.” Millie turned towards Leah and spoke directly to her, “Ms. Brewer, can you sing the song for them! It’s so much fun, they’ll love it.” Leah blushed slightly but chuckled as all twenty-two excited smiles and two curious pairs of eyes turned towards her. “Why don’t we all sing it together? Show them how great we are at it.” Leah led the excited group through their morning weather song about the rain, the snow, the wind and the sunshine and as they finished (loudly) she once again looked at the two blonde men and found Gabe smiling widely at the class while Nate looked at her with a small smile of his own. Her face warmed yet again as they all began clapping and laughing at her as she grinned and took a small bow in her chair. Conversation between Gabe and her students continued, but for a long moment Nate’s gaze remained fixed on her. She looked down at the papers on her desk again, trying not to read too much into his glances that were frequently aimed at her. All too quickly the two men stood from the chairs and bid goodbye to the students and after a collective “aww” and a round of high fives, left the room to meet the fifth graders waiting for them in the gym. As Leah focused on getting her students back to their seats at their tables, she didn’t notice Nate casting one last look through the door as they left, his eyes only set on her. By three o’clock all of her students were gone and Leah made her way around the room, cleaning up leftover trash and wiping the crumbs from their end of day snack from the tables. She jumped as she heard the deep voice coming from just outside her door. “Hi, did you need some help?” Her head snapped towards the voice and her eyes again met the bright blue that hadn’t left her mind for the rest of the afternoon. The small smile she’d gotten before was present on Nate’s face as he watched her drop the wad of colored paper in her hands into the trash. “Oh no thank you, I’ll be okay here.” She silently willed the butterflies dancing around her stomach and the blush painting her cheeks to go away as he stepped further into the classroom and waved her off, starting to push the chairs into the tables as he spoke again. “It’s no problem, it’ll go faster if we work together. Besides, Gabe’s somewhere shooting extra footage with our media team and this’ll get me out of that.” They both chuckled at that and she nodded, keeping her eyes averted as she helped push in the chairs. “I’m Nathan. Mackinnon. Nathan Mackinnon. But, um, everybody just sort of calls me Nate.” “Nice to meet you, Nate. I’m Leah, Leah Brewer.” She knew there were nerves in her voice, but she didn’t know if she’d imagined the hint of them in his. They worked in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again. “So, Leah, are you from Denver?” She shook her head. “No, I grew up in Murraysville. It’s in Pennsylvania, just outside of Pittsburgh.” He lit up a bit, turning towards her fully. “One of my best friends lives there, plays for the Penguins. Sidney’s his name, Sidney Crosby.” She shot him a playfully unimpressed glance as she stopped pushing in the chair. “Now Nate. I may not know much about hockey, but I can assure you, even I know who Sidney Crosby is.” She laughed quietly at the blush that tinted his cheeks and he chuckled along with her, shaking his head. “Yeah that was stupid, sorry.” They kept on cleaning up the last of the classroom until he plopped into the last chair. “So, what brought you to Denver all the way from the East Coast?”
 Leah figured that since he’d sat down, he wasn’t planning on leaving right away, so she made her way to her rocking chair. She thought for a moment before she answered. It wasn’t like she could come right out and tell him Scott had emotionally destroyed her, so she settled for the cliche, generic answer she gave most people when they asked her. “I graduated from college and just… needed a fresh start.” He nodded slightly, but by the look he gave her, she knew he was curious for more. He didn’t press her, and the small talk moved onto other things, her job, then his job and then their families and friends. The conversation flowed so easily between them. By the time she realized almost forty-five minutes had passed, they were laughing and sharing stories as if they’d known each other for years, not hours. “Oh, it’s almost four o’clock, you should probably get back to Gabe and the rest of your team.” He sighed as they both looked at the clock, like he knew she was right but also like he didn’t want to leave. “You’re right. It was really nice meeting you though.” He stood from the chair as she returned the sentiment and turned to leave the room. He’d made it almost fully out the door before he stopped and turned around asking her one last question. “Listen, I don’t… this might be a little forward, I- would you maybe want to go out to dinner sometime? With me? Like, as a date?” She stared at him in surprise for a moment and then thought about her answer. Sure, she hadn’t really dated much since Scott, but it had been three years and thousands of miles since then. And there was something about Nate that intrigued her, something that had caused the butterflies to erupt the minute they’d made eye contact. Something that made her answer fairly easy. “Sure, Nate, I’d really like that.” The memory flooded away as she opened her eyes and looked back into the mirror. One dinner date had led to another, which had led to a few more, then spending the night at her place and then his. She’d met Cox then, which she was glad had gone well because, as Nate had told her later, he couldn’t date somebody Cox didn’t like. That had led to her meeting his teammates and their significant others, and him meeting her friends. That summer when his season and her semester had ended, they traveled to Murraysville where he met her family, and Nova Scotia where she met his. Before they knew it a little over a year had flown by and they’d bought their first house together. She chuckled at that memory, instantly thinking back to the mess of hockey players that had filled their home the day they moved in. “Josty come on, man! The box says fragile!” Leah giggled from her place in the kitchen at the sound of JT’s voice echoing down the hallway, and then at Nate’s voice, floating in from his spot in their living room. “Don’t break any more of my shit, Josty, you know I still haven’t forgiven you and Z for the broken lamp from the Christmas party.” Mel snorted across the counter, Jackie shaking her head as Leah placed the last of the bowls in the cabinet. “They’re a fucking mess, the whole group of them.” Jackie and Mel laughed and nodded in agreement before moving to start on loading the cutlery into the drawers. Leah made her way from the kitchen into the living room, passing by Gabe, EJ and Naz walking to the front door to pull more of the heavier pieces of furniture from the truck. “Thank you guys again for helping us with all of this. No way Nate could have done all the heavy lifting himself the softie.” She smirked at the indignant ‘hey!’ that came from their sofa and the boys chuckled before assuring her again it was no problem and heading for the door, EJ jostling her on his way. She rolled her eyes but smiled at the toothless grin she got in return, passing them to plop down next to her boyfriend, leaning heavily into his side and closing her eyes with a yawn as he lightly kissed her forehead. “Tired, baby?” “Mhm.” As she opened her eyes again, she finally took the chance to look around their living room, the large bay windows bathing the room in sunlight. Boxes were scattered around, the television still waiting to be mounted above the fireplace and the shelves empty, save for one photo. Her eyes landed on it and she smiled fondly, one of her favorites of the two of them. It was taken in Cole Harbour on one of their last trips. They sat together on the boat, her leaning against his side with his arms wrapped around her, much like they were now. They’d gone for a sunset cruise with Sid and Kathy and Tyson and Emma who had also come back up north, just chatting and enjoying the company when Kathy told them to pose, that the sunset created the perfect backdrop behind them. As they leaned into each other and smiled at the camera, Tyson said something from just beside Kathy that had drawn her attention as Kathy snapped the photo. She’s laughing in his direction in the photo, still leaning against Nate who’s smile is directed only at her. The love between the two of them is obvious, which is exactly why it’s one of her favorites. Leah is drawn from the memory captured in the photo when she feels Nate’s lips on the top of her head again and the smile on her face grows even wider. She listens to the sounds of a pot clattering to the floor in the kitchen followed by Jackie’s voice scolding EJ and Gabe and Mel laughing, Josty, JT and Burky pushing each other around in the hallway and Nate’s slow, even breathing right beside her on the couch. As her eyes closed once more, she couldn’t remember if she’d ever in her life felt as happy as she did in that moment. Nate’s fingers ran through her hair and she pulled slightly out of his embrace, taking a moment to silently study the man she’d so quickly found herself falling madly in love with. “What’s on your mind?” he asks her, and she finds herself overwhelmed with emotion as she tries to put her thoughts into words. “I love our friends. I love our new house, but I love even more that we get to make it a home. I love this life that I get to build with you. I love you Nate.” The silent exchange that directly followed was just as meaningful, if not more so, than the words she’d just spoken. She could feel it. He’d felt it too. “I love you, too.” He hadn’t said much, but what he had said had told her everything she needed to know. She’s yanked quickly from that memory as the door to the bridal suite opens. Linnea flounced into the room in her white tulle dress, looking every bit the little princess they all considered her to be. Mel shuffled in behind her before the door is closed again. The soft pink of her dress perfectly complimented her blonde hair and pale skin, amplifying her beauty even further. Mel and Gabe were two of the best things to come from her relationship with Nate, quickly becoming some of her very best friends. Through every hardship or struggle she’d faced during her relationship with Nate he’d been right there beside her, but the Landeskogs had been right there on her other side. She still feels a jolt of happiness when she remembers finding out about Linnea for the first time, and the first time she got to hold her. She couldn’t keep the smile off her face as they entered the room, fiddling with the small diamond bracelet Mel had given to her as a gift the night before from both her and Gabe, her something new. Mel snorted, joking “What, already thinking about the honeymoon?” Of course she hadn’t been before, but she started to now, and she quickly tried to ignore the tingle she felt between her legs at the next memory, one from just a few weeks ago.     “Oh fuck, yes.” Leah’s eyes were shut tightly, mouth wide open, one of Nate’s arms thrown across her lower stomach to keep her from squirming as his tongue slowly circled her clit. She was panting, hard, one of her hands wound tightly in his blonde hair while the other held onto their headboard. She’d already come once on his fingers, but he hadn’t shown any signs of slowing down. He groaned as he pulled away slightly, his mouth and chin covered in her wetness and let his eyes roam back up her body, flushed, until they met hers. “Fucking love your pussy, baby.” He dove back into her cunt then like it was a five-course meal as she tightened her grip on him and moaned loudly, her body thrashing and hurtling toward her second climax. She’d found out early on in their relationship that in contrast to how soft he was with her normally, in bed Nate was filthy. And she fucking loved it. They both shared a high sex drive, and when they first started dating, they’d gone at it like rabbits. In the morning in the shower before she left for work, on their couch when he’d gotten home from a game, one particularly exciting afternoon when he’d come home after practice and laid her out on his kitchen table. They constantly got each other off over FaceTime or Skype when he was on the road, and on their first bye week together they spent almost the entire five days of their trip fucking on every surface of the villa they’d rented. She’d been sore for almost a week. And after almost four years of dating, it hadn’t really slowed down at all. When Nate moved his tongue from inside her back to her clit, flattening it and shaking his head from side to side, she felt her orgasm crash over her. “Fuuuuck yes!” Her back arched sharply off the bed as she rode out the waves of her high, Nate continuing to lick and suck at her through it. As she worked to catch her breath, he kissed his way back up her body, biting down softly on her neck when he reached her sweet spot. “So sexy when you cum. Think you can give me one more, baby?” Though she was exhausted from the first two orgasms he’d given her, she still nodded enthusiastically and let her hand snake down his body, taking him in her hand and guiding him toward her center. She let out a sigh which turned into a quiet moan as he entered her. Of all the men she’d been with, which though admittedly wasn’t many, Nate was the biggest. His length was average, but he was thick, spreading her open and filling her better than any man ever had before. Their mouths met as he started to move inside of her, swallowing the noises she made. She knew it wouldn’t take much for either of them, her already sensitive from her first two highs and him keyed up from the reactions he’d gotten while giving them to her. As his thrusts picked up in both pace and in power, their kisses turned more into breathing and moaning into each other’s mouths before he moved back down to her neck then down further, taking one of her nipples into his mouth and biting before rolling it between his teeth. “Ah, daddy please, I need to come, I need to come.” She whined, rolling her hips up to meet his the best she could. He kept his pace and shook his head slightly. “Wait baby, wait for daddy. I’ll give you what you need, be patient.” He stopped for a moment and took her ankles into his hands, placing them up over his shoulders and she cried out as he began thrusting against her harder and faster, hitting a spot deeper in her than before. Her breathing went ragged and she struggled to get out anything but whines, which quickly turned into yells, then sobs. “Please daddy! Please, I’m gonna, I can’t- I need to cum!” she clawed at his back, her head lolling back against the pillows as she felt his hips begin to move more frantically and uncontrolled. “Yeah baby, fucking cum for me. Show daddy who makes you feel like this, who’s pussy this is.” She shrieked and seconds later felt her fluids gush around him, pulling a loud groan from him as he followed her over the edge. “Fuuuuuck yeah baby, your pussy feels so good when you cum around me. Fucking angel.” He grunted, filling her with his seed. They’d stopped using condoms six months in and he maintains it was one of the best decisions they’d made. She couldn’t help but agree with him as she felt his warmth pulsing inside of her.   When they’d both given each other everything they had, he dropped down gently over her and wrapped his arms around her, holding her as she trembled through the aftershocks of her third high of the night. Soft kisses were planted across her neck and jaw and she lightly combed her fingers through the sweaty mess of blonde on the nape of his neck. These were some of her favorite moments with Nate. Just after a round of great sex when they just laid catching their breaths in the silence, still connected and just basking in the warmth of being together. All she was capable of thinking about in those moments was the man laying over her and how much she loved him. “I love you baby.” He whispered quietly to her as he pulled away from his place at her shoulder, leaving her with a languid, toe curling kiss on her lips and feelings of love for him swirling around her body. It was Mel snorting again that brought her back to reality and she turned toward the other blonde, realizing she’d been biting her lip as she got caught up in the memory. “Jesus, I was kidding. My child is in the room.” Mel smirked and Linnea answered perfectly with a giggle from her spot in the corner, making both women laugh. She turned back toward the mirror to readjust her veil for what felt like the twentieth time since it’d been put in her hair. Mel continued. “Anyways, we just came by to tell you we’ve got about 15 minutes to go time. Maid of honor duties and all.” She winked making both of them laugh again before she swept Linnea into her arms, heading for the door “We’ll leave you alone now, see you in a bit.” As she exited the room, another woman entered. “My baby. Look at you, you look beautiful.” Her mother moved to stand by her side in the mirror, placing a hand gently on her shoulder, eyes filling with tears as they met hers in the mirror. “Your dad would be so proud, sweetheart.” Her own eyes filled with tears this time and as she closed them, she could hear the beeping of the heart monitor and smell the sterile scent of the hospital as clear as day. She couldn’t breathe. The only word to describe her in that moment was numb. Her eyes traced the wires to the white linen blanket, up to the machine that measured the slow heartbeat of the first man she’d ever loved. A face eerily similar to her own, her father had never looked thinner and paler than he did laying there in his hospital gown. ‘Brain aneurysm. Ruptured. Hemorrhagic stroke.’ The words the doctor had spoken to them rested like a weight in her head and in her chest as she stared down at their hands, hers clutching tightly and his limp and unmoving. She couldn’t cry. Not yet. She’d been holding onto hope for days now that he would wake up, that they could talk about how terribly their Steelers were doing and laugh about the clumsiness of her mother. That they could drive home together in his car, singing terribly along to the old Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin tunes he’d brought her up on. That one day he could walk her down the aisle (‘Not until you’re 30!’) and hold his first grandchild. No matter how many times she’d heard the words braindead and pull the plug, she held onto that hope, the same hope she was starting to feel slip between her fingers. The beeping was the only sound in the room aside from her mother’s sniffling and Nate’s steady breathing. Her parents had divorced just before her fourth birthday, but they’d remained great friends and worked together to raise her, something she didn’t realize how grateful she was for until she reached adulthood. It was only fitting that she, Leah and Nate were the three present at his bedside as two of them were what he always called ‘the loves of his life’ and the third one of his ‘favorite people out there’ as he’d called Nate just a few months before. The doctor entered the room again and when Leah met his gaze it was somber. She looked away almost immediately, knowing what was coming as he started speaking to them again. “I’m sorry, we’ve done all that we can, but we believe at this point it’s about a five percent chance he’ll wake, and if he does, we can almost guarantee significant brain damage. It’s in my medical opinion that you may want to consider pulling him off of the life support.” She felt it then, the first tear slip down her cheek where she sat in the chair by her father’s side. She locked eyes with her mother and they both knew what they had to do. This isn’t the way he would have wanted to live, and that’s if he did, and she wasn’t going to put him through any pain and suffering simply because it would make her happy. An hour later, after the three of them had all spoken their goodbyes and spent their last minutes with him, the machines were turned off. The beeping stopped, her father’s hand, still clutched in her own smaller, softer one went cold. Leah wept. She laid down on the bed beside her father’s body and held him, weeping as the last signs of life left his body. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t get through this. She didn’t want to live a life without her dad’s obnoxiously loud laughter and world famous bear hugs. She didn’t know how she was going to pull herself from the grief crashing over her in waves. Then a warm hand circled her ankle from its place at the foot of the bed, thumb softly smoothing over the skin there. Nate. Her rock, her stability, the calm to help her weather the storm. He’d be right by her side through it, just as he had been in everything else since the day they’d met three years ago. She knew when she felt the letters he was tracing onto her skin. I love you. It was strange but through all of her grief then, she felt the slightest bit of joy, because she also knew that her father had gotten to know and love the man she was going to marry, the love of her life. Her mother quickly pulled a handkerchief from her clutch, chastising both herself and her daughter for ‘ruining her makeup.’ She giggled as she clutched her mother’s hand and then directed a small smile at the pair of sapphire earrings she wore, a gift from her father on her eighteenth birthday and now her something blue. He was there with her, she knew that he was. Quickly wiping at her eyes, she handed the handkerchief back to her mother and went to gather her bouquet from the small table but stopped when her eyes landed on her engagement ring. One that had belonged to Nate’s grandmother, her something old. She floated away into yet another memory, and by far one of the best of her life. The air was crisp and smelled of the first signs of winter as Leah and Nate walked hand in hand down the lakeside pathway through Confluence Park. This was her favorite time of year, filled with memories of pulling out the Christmas decorations far too early with her mother as her father just smirked and shook his head at them. Memories of home games spent with her girls in the family box cheering on the men they loved. Memories of cold mornings spent curled up on the couch with Nate under the blankets, Cox at their feet as they fell in and out of sleep, watching the snowfall through the bay windows. She smiled as Nate gently tugged at Cox’s leash, willing him to slow down as they strolled lazily behind him. “This is my favorite time of year. I know I always complain about how cold it gets, but nothing beats a winter day like this.” Nate brought their joint hands up to his lips to place a kiss and replied, “I know baby. It’s one of my favorite times of year too, just because you love it.” She laughed at the cheesiness of his statement but leaned into his side, looking up at him as they slowed even more. “I love you, you know.” He didn’t reply immediately so she continued walking, only stopping when he did, turning to gaze at him curiously. It was only then that she felt the trembling of his hand still clasped in hers. “Nate? Why are we stopping, are you okay?” Cox whined behind her, probably wondering the same thing. “Yeah baby I’m fine, I just needed to say something and I wanted your full attention when I did.” This intrigued her even further but she didn’t answer, waiting for him to say whatever it is she could see was stewing in there. He stared at her for a moment longer before he started to speak again. “There’s something that I haven’t told you. I spoke to your dad on the phone a few weeks before he died. Spoke to him for quite a while, actually?” Leah was now incredibly confused, so she waited for him to continue. “You know how much I loved and respected him. I don’t know how but in three years he became another father figure to me and I wanted his opinion on something important so I called him to ask.” “What did you ask him?” her interest was thoroughly peaked as Nate’s hand dropped to his pocket, until he pulled out a small velvet box and both hands came to cover her mouth when she realized what was happening. She went completely still, tears already coming to the surface as he took a step closer to her, one of his hands still holding Cox’s leash and the other the box. “I asked him for his blessing.” He looped the leash around his wrist, but Cox was still then, sitting on the pavement at her feet, tail wagging furiously though she knew he had no idea what was occurring. How much her life was about to change. Then Nate took one of her hands from her mouth, her left hand, and held it tightly in his own. “When I was growing up, I watched my parents all the time when they were together, and you could see it in their faces when they looked at each other. It was this pure, real, genuine kind of love that doesn’t scream at you. The kind of love that’s just there, the kind that looks like making each other breakfast or bringing each other the morning paper, the kind that’s sitting on the couch together doing two completely separate things but somehow still being connected, the kind that looks like smiling through raising two children together. I saw other people find it, Mel and Gabe, Erik and Jackie, Sid and Kath. I always wanted that kind of love, but I never believed that I would have it, that I would somehow be lucky enough to find someone that loved me like that or that I could love like that. I think I realized on our third date that even if it wasn’t there yet, I could see that kind of love with you, and then it happened. There isn’t a day that goes by that I’m not thanking whoever’s up there in the sky or wherever they are,” she giggled slightly through her tears at that bit, “that I got lucky enough to fall in love with you. You are everything. You’re kind, you’re witty, you’re intelligent, you’re incredibly beautiful and you’re so loving to everyone around you. But especially me. You’ve loved me through every bad game, through every hotheaded tantrum, through every argument, through every loss and every heartache. It didn’t matter what I was facing, what we were facing, you’ve loved me through all of it and I can only hope to spend the rest of my life giving that love right back to you.” At this point she was ugly crying, clutching his hand so tightly her knuckles were turning white, but he pressed on. “This kind of love, the love we feel for each other is special, once in a lifetime. It doesn’t come around often and my grandma always told me when you find something like it you have to hold on as tightly as you can and never let go. This was hers, actually.” He opened the velvet box then and Leah gasped as she saw the simple round diamond set on a silver band. “After I called your dad to ask for his blessing and he not only told me yes but that he couldn’t be happier not only that his daughter had found someone she loved so much but someone who loved her the way she deserved,” she wept harder at that “I called grandma and told her I had found it, the kind of love she told me to never let go of, and the next time we were in town visiting her she gave me the ring. This ring is from a marriage full of that love and I thought it might be a good luck charm for us, not that we need it.” She laughed loudly at that and he grinned at her, but his smile softened and she found tears to match hers in his eyes as he dropped to one knee. “You’re it for me, baby. My best friend, my soulmate, the love of my life. I’ll never need to wonder again if I’ll ever find this kind of love because hopefully I’ll get to have it with you and the family we’ll build forever. If you say yes, I promise to fall asleep a little more in love with you today, tomorrow and all of our lives. I love you so much. Leah, will you marry me?” She didn’t even need to think, she knew. She’d known for years, just as she was it for him, he was it for her. “Yes. Yes, Nate. I love you. I love you.” He slid the elegant diamond onto her finger and his lips were immediately on hers, kissing her through their laughter and through their tears, over and over again. If you’d ask her, there weren’t words she could put together to describe the love she felt for him in that moment. Everything, every moment and memory that lead them to this place was worth it for the reward of getting to call him her husband for the rest of her life. They spent what felt like hours but could only have been minutes kissing and laughing in that park, elated at the idea of spending their lives together. As they finally pulled away from each other Nate excitedly pulled her left hand forward, flashing it at their dog proudly, making her laugh once again. “Cox, she said yes! Mom and I are getting married.” The knock on the door shook her from her happiest memory, Gabe standing proudly in it’s frame offering her his arm. When she’d thought about who would walk her down the aisle that day, though they’d never fill the void left in her father’s absence, Gabe was the only choice. The older brother she’d never had but had found in him. “Ready to be Mrs. Mackinnon, kid?” The nerves still didn’t come, the calm and the peace remaining. She grabbed the bouquet and crossed the room to take his arm. “Never been more ready in my life.” (+ bonus:) Their bedroom was still save for her husband’s soft snores and the hum of the ceiling fan. The clock on the bedside table next to her that was illuminated by the soft glow coming from her reading lamp read 3:53 am, but she didn’t feel the sleep gripping her like she probably should. She took the quiet moment to glance at the man sleeping soundly beside her, the man she’d called her husband for the last two years but her best friend for far longer. He was the man of her dreams and though they’d faced challenges, she wouldn’t have wanted to face them with anyone else. She scanned quickly back through all the memories she had of their relationship and smiled when they brought back the feelings of intense love between them. And as she looked down at the tiny baby nestled softly in her arms, his eyes an identical blue to his father’s, she remembered the words he’d said the day he proposed. “I promise to fall asleep a little more in love with you today, tomorrow and all of our lives.”

Mistakes Like These

Summary: Kakyoin never paid much attention to the younger Kujo. Who knew stockings and short skirt were all it would take change that

Rating: 18+, nsfw

Words: 4877

Warnings: cannabis mention, alcohol use

Tags: afab, fem pronouns, modern!au , doesn’t follow the canon like at all, very au, brother!jotaro x sister!reader, kakyoin x reader, soft dom kak, lots of pet names, plus size reader

Notes: I haven’t written any fanfiction in over five years so this might be rusty. I’m sorry for any mistakes made or if its not how the characters would act. I’m still new to the Jojos fandom but had this idea pop in my head and decided to get it out. I want to turn this in to a multi part story and have several parts already planned out, I just want to have feedback to see if people actually like it.

“Have a happy Holidays. Make sure to check in with your financial advisor about the spring semester.”

A sigh escaped your lips as you read the most recent email in your student inbox. Patience may be a virtue, but it was sure one you didn’t possess. At least not right now anyway. Tsking your tongue against the roof of your mouth, you moved the mouse over to the refresh button and clicked. Your eyes followed the downloading icon in circles, fingers tapping anxiously over the desk.

“Have a happy Holidays. Make sure to check in with your financial advisor about the spring semester.”

You exhaled angrily through your nose and leaned back in your chair. Your eyes fixed on the ceiling for a few moments before you looked over to your bed where your cat, Miso, had woken up from his nap.

“I know I should be more patient. But this grade is what determines if I move on to the next course which I need if I want to graduate soon and get out of this apartment.” You spoke as if your cat had scolded you for your impatience.

Your apartment was nice. Super nice. Your friends often described it as “apartment goals.” You could have never afforded it on your own. Hell, you couldn’t afford it even when you graduated and got a job. Two large bedrooms with a spacious living room, modern kitchen, and a balcony that overlooked the cities skyline. There were only two major downsides: there was only one bathroom which had to be shared with your roommate and your roommate happened to be your older brother, Jotaro.

Now, you didn’t exactly hate your brother. He was like any older brother, he thought you were extremely annoying and wanted nothing to do with you most of the time, though there were times growing up where he’d come home with scrapes and bruises after dealing with someone who picked on you at school. As you were both older, you found each other more bearable than you did when you were younger. That didn’t mean, however, you wanted to live with him. Especially while you were in college, which was supposed to be your time to let loose and have fun while still receiving an education, of course. Your grandfather, however, had other plans.

Joseph Joestar was a real estate mogul and had some serious money to his name. He loved to dote on his two grandchildren and was upset that for the most part your parents chose to give you a “normal” life without the extravagance that he offered. Birthdays and christmas he would buy you each a present, until Jotaro turned 15 and started asking for money instead. He made your mother an offer that he knew she couldn’t deny: he would pay for the entirety of your schooling, from associates degree to PhD if thats what you wanted, in order for the two of you to focus on your studies he’d also give you a weekly allowance so that you wouldn’t have to work, and he’d buy you each your own apartment and pay to furnish it how you liked. Holly couldn’t turn down the offer, what kind of mother would deny her children an opportunity like that? However, she did ask that her father only buy a single apartment for her children to share. Her hopes were that it would strengthen your relationship and it also meant she could see both her darling children whenever she desired.

You didn’t want to seem ungrateful at all for what Jiji had done for you. You knew you were extremely privileged to have the opportunities that he provided you but, fuck, sometimes you wished you had your own place. You wanted the independence, to know you earned something but also because sharing a bathroom with Jojo was infuriating. He always moved your stuff, never cleaned the shower, and he never had patience for you to get ready in the mornings. A wishful sigh left your lips as you thought of your future, with just you, Miso, and the ability to use the bathroom whenever you wanted.

Your eyes moved back to the computer screen, clicking refresh, and rolling your eyes when you read the same email from the dean again. Like you expected anything different, you just turned the term paper in yesterday. You brought your cup of tea up to your lips but furrowed your eyebrows when you realized there was none left.

Pushing yourself up out of your chair you formulated a plan for the rest of your evening. You would refill your cup of tea, hop back on your computer to play Overwatch with your friends until the early hours of the morning, and then cuddle up with Miso and look at TikToks until you fell asleep. It was foolproof. No way that you would even think about your term paper grade.

And if you did, you could always refresh your email in between matches.

-----------

Your finger tapped your lip as you looked over all the snack foods in the pantry. While waiting for your tea, you realized that the only thing that could make your plan better was a good snack. You had just gone shopping so it meant that all the poky, ramen, and chips you desired were on the shelves and it made the decision extra hard.

In the middle of your contemplation, you heard the front door turn and the sound of your brother and his friends entering the apartment.

“You know it's true, Jotaro. Your apartments bigger. Its nicer. It has that view that drives the ladies wild. Our apartment is cramped and it smells like weed.” Polnareff’s voice was the first you heard as the trio entered the house.

“Don’t forget the upstairs neighbors who are always playing loud polish music.” Kakyoin added, plopping down to sit on one of the chairs in the living room.

You heard your brother sigh and could feel his annoyance. You never understood how the trio became friends, it was a mystery to everyone including them but they had been together since their days in primary school and the bond they shared was one that intrigued you.

“Yes, yes. The polish,” Polnareff nodded. “Known around the world for their ability to ruin the mood with a hurdy-gurdy.”

There was silence, and you could tell your brother was not budging a bit. A party was not Jotaros thing. Kakyoin wasn’t a partier either, from what you gathered he’d much rather stay at home playing video games and smoking weed. Sucking your bottom lip in your mouth, you made your decision, grabbing a bag of chips and a box of strawberry pocky. You did your best to hold those in one hand and your cup of tea in the other.

“Feel that Christmas spirit, Jo. Help Pol in his never ending crusade to get laid. The poorman is gonna end this year with, what, a batting average of zero. He’ll be a disgrace to French men everywhere.” The teasing tone Kakyoins voice almost made you laugh.

“Hey! Batting average of 3. You know this,” Polnareff shot back, causing his roommate to throw his hands up in mock surrender.

“Jotaro,” The french man turned his attention back to your brother, who simply turned on the TV in what seemed to be an attempt to drown out the sound of his friend's voice, “C’mon. I’ll buy your cigarettes for a month…..Two months?” His voice was getting more desperate, his head turned toward you. A smile stretched across his features as he jumped off the couch and threw his arms around your shoulder.

God, you just wanted to go to your room.

“New deal,” Polernaff declared, squeezing you to the side of his body as you tried not to splash your tea all over the floor. Kakyoin looked away from the TV, eyebrow raised, Jotaros attention never faltered from the knock-off Viagra commercial. “If you agree to a Christmas Eve party I will buy you cigarettes for three months, I will never ask anything of you ever again, and I will stop flirting with your sister.”

Kakyoin snorted, shaking his head and turning his attention to Jotaro. Since you had moved in with Jotaro, the frenchman hadn’t stopped making comments about how beautiful he thought you were or just giving you flirty winks whenever you walked through the room. You found it annoying at first, but you quickly got over it when you realized he did the same thing with every girl, and boy, that he saw.

“Good grief,” Jotaro sighed. “Its a deal.”

------------------

“I can’t believe you agreed to this.” Kakyoin mumbled as he and Jotaro watched their friend place the final touches on the decorations and food for the party. Y/N had already put up Christmas decorations earlier that month, there was some snowmen set out on the dining table and a cute tree with some presents neatly wrapped under it. However, Polnareff had decided that wasn’t enough. He had hung up snowflakes to come down from the ceiling, there was garland hung on every wall, and so much fucking mistletoe.

Polnareff had even requested that his friends dress festive. Jotaro, of course, didn’t listen and wore what he always wore. Kakyoin decided to humor his friend and wore a Santa hat along with a dark green v-neck and dark wash jeans.

“You don’t need the money, right? Grandpa Joestar’s allowance has to be enough for cigarettes.” He continued, watching his roommate place a bowl of peppermints by the door.

“I just wanted to get him to shut up,” Jotaro said with a roll of his eyes.

“You think he’ll actually follow through on leaving Y/N alone?”

Jotaro shook his head, “Out of all the people in this city, you’d think he’d leave the only one of limits alone.”

Kakyoin simply nodded, taking a sip of his drink.

-----------

You smoothed your hands over your outfit, turning to the side to get it from a different angle. You couldn’t decide if you liked it or not. The sweater was cute, it was red with a deep green christmas tree that had colorful little puff balls as the ornaments. Your make-up and hair looked nice, too.  That wasn’t what concerned you. It was the white pleated skirt and tight red stockings that caused you pause. You grabbed at your love handles that spilled over the top of the skirt a bit and your eyes traveled to how your thighs looked in the stockings.

Polnareff had told you you could invite some friends over. Which, of course you could, this was your apartment and you didn’t need his permission. You had told him as such and invited over your three closest friends.

You turned around to your bed and looked at Miso, who was comfortably curled up. “How do I look?” You waited a moment before turning back to the mirror and smacking your lips together. You were tempted to take off the skirt and tights and throw a pair of jeans on but something changed your mind last minute. Instead of heading to your closet to change, you instead grabbed the reindeer antler hand band and slipped it on top of your hair before heading out of the safety of your bedroom.

You were so distracted with the new decorations that you didn’t notice the pair of eyes that were glued to your form.

------

Simply Having a Wonderful Christmastime was playing for what seemed like the fifth time. Kakyoin had never hated Paul McCartney more than he did now. He was just now starting to feel the buzz of all the drinks he had had but it didn’t make the party any more bearable.

“She,” Kakyoin pointed to a blonde girl in a Santa dress, “is gonna hook up with him,” He pointed to a dark haired main that had for some reason felt the need to take his shirt off.

Jotaro simply grunted before eyeing more of the members of the party. This was a game they’d been playing for the past hour and a half, making bets on who was gonna hook up with who and who was gonna get the most shit faced.

“He’s gonna end up passed out in my bathtub,” The dark haired man stated, pointing to the only person dancing to the playlist Polnareff had created.

Kakyoin broke a smile as he watched the clearly wasted man's horrible dance moves. His attention was brought away from the scene by the sound of Y/N’s laugh. For what had to be the millionth time that night, the red haired man eyed her up and down. That outfit looked so fucking good on her but the smile streched out across her lips looked even better.

I wonder what the lipstick would look like smeared on my cock.

The thought slipped into his head and he couldn’t stop from staring at the red painted on your lips.

Does she feel as soft as she looks?

He took a sip from his cup. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking about his hands running over her thighs or his fingers digging into her hips. It was strange that he was having these thoughts. He’d never viewed Y/N as more than just Jotaro’s younger sister. He never thought she was ugly, in fact there were multiple times that he thought she was down right gorgeous but it had never turned sexual. Something about that outfit had sent him over that edge.

The sound of Last Christmas brought him out of his trance. Kakyoin almost immediately rolled his eyes. He almost missed the hurdy-gurdy.

“Good grief,” Jotaro mumbled and grabbed the pack of cigarettes off the coffee table. “I’m heading out for a smoke.”

Kakyoin watched as his best friend got up but instead of heading for the balcony, Jotaro went out the front door. The red haired man was tempted to follow but as soon as that thought popped into his mind he heard the drunk voice of his other best friend call to him.

“Kak, you gotta show these guys the cherry thing!”

---------

It was well past 3. The party had ended and most of the attendants took an Uber home. The only people in the apartment were you, Polnareff, and Kakyoin. Jotaro had still not returned from that smoke he said he was going to take hours ago. The buzz had long worn off and the reality sank in that you had to clean the disaster of an apartment that was left in the christmas party’s wake.

There were red solo cups strewn about various surfaces and all over the floor, glitter seemed to have gotten everywhere, there were plates of food left half eaten, and there was a candy cane just stuck to the wall. Looking at the destruction, you almost wondered if the fun you had had was worth it. With your parents coming over tomorrow...or, well, today…..for Christmas, you had really no other option than to clean it, with that thought in your head you grabbed a garbage bag and started cleaning.

After a few minutes, you heard the familiar rustle of plastic as someone was opening a trash bag and you turned to see Kakyoin helping you with your task.

“Thanks,” You told him as you threw a plate of half eaten cake into the bag.

“No problem. Pol is passed out in the hallway and I gotta make sure Jo makes it home safe, so I’m kinda stuck here.”

You simply nodded in response and kept about your task in silence. A silence which seemingly bothered Kakyoin because a few minutes later he cleared his throat and broke the silence.

“So I, uh, noticed your man wasn’t here tonight.” He almost smacked himself for asking the question. You thought he was just making small talk, the thought of him having more devious reasons behind asking if you were single hadn’t crossed your mind.

“My….My man?” You quirked an eyebrow, looking back over your shoulder at him.

“Yeah, your man. I saw you with some guy a while back,” Kakyoin had put down the now full trash bag and was leaning against the counter top with his arms crossed as he spoke.

“Oh,” You suddenly realized who exactly he was talking about, “Yeah, um, we broke up six months ago,” You said with a laugh.

“Oh...Six months?” He titled his head to the side, “Are you sure? Hmm… Well, sorry I didn’t notice...I uh guess I should be more observant.

You shook your head, placing down your own bag and heading past him to the pantry to grab another. “Its alright, I’m not offended. I’m sure you find me as annoying as I find Jotaros friends.”

Kakyoin raised his eyebrows at your statement, “You find me annoying? I mean, Pol, I get. Yeah. He’s one of my closest friends and even I can’t handle him sometimes. But me? I never talk to you.”

You had busied yourself with cleaning the rest of the cups off the counter, “ I don’t know. You’re just…” You looked up and noticed his eyes quickly flick down to your lips before making eye contact with you again. “I mean, you did one time give me oregano and told me it was weed.”

“First,” Kakyoin started, his body shifted so it was turned toward you, “Thats not annoying. I would call that immature, maybe. But annoying? Nah. Second,” he threw up two fingers to emphasize his point, “ In my defense, you were 15 and I was worried about you finding our stash under Jo’s bed and I thought it would lessen that chance if I gave you your own stash.”

You laughed, setting the bag down and turning to look at him. You couldn’t help but notice how good he looked in that dark green shirt but you quickly willed that thought away.  “Kakyoin, that doesn’t make any sense.”

“Hey, at the time it did.”

You tilted your head to the side, you had plenty of stories that you could use as proof that he was annoying, “ What about that time you and Jojo left me stranded at school because the new playstation came out?”

“Thats not fair,” He noticed the playful hint your voice was taking and it caused a small smile to tug at his lips.

“How about the time that you threw up in my make up bag?”

“Hey, that was all Frenchie. Not me.”

“Or…..” You were silenced by Kakyoin pressing a finger to your lips. You hadn’t noticed that the two of you had just kept moving closer and closer as you were talking. You could get a better look at him now, his eyes looked tired but there was a mischievous glint to them, proof to you that he found this just as amusing as you did.

“What about you, huh? You saying that you’ve never been annoying?” He cocked an eyebrow, giving you a knowing look that let you know he had as many stories about you that you had about him.

“Look, I never once implied that I wasn’t annoying. I’ll own up to it,” You shrugged, “I was a total brat.”

Kakyoin snorted, “Don’t act like you’re not still a brat.”

“How?!” You looked almost taken aback, “How am I still a brat? You hardly see me!”

Kakyoin loved banter and teasing with his friends, it was kind of his thing. It was how he showed affection. If he didn’t gently bully you how was he supposed to show that he cared? But this, this teasing between the two of you was different. It made the room seem hotter and his pants feel tighter. That coupled with how fucking cute you looked in that damn outfit, even if your make up had worn off a bit and the lipstick was smugged. He couldn't deny it was doing things to him.

“I see you now,” His voice was deep, his tongue sticking out to wet his bottom lip as his eyes trailed you up and down.

Your cheeks immediately turned a blushy pink and your skin was hot under his gaze. Your lips parted but no words came out. This was Jotaros best friend, there was no way he was flirting with you.

Kakyoin took a few steps forward so he was as close to you as he could be without touching you. “I see you now,” He repeated in the same low voice, this time keeping eye contact with you, “And I see a brat.”

He pushes a few strands of hair out of your face and behind your ear, a gasp hitching in your throat as his heated skin touched your check briefly, “Unless you’re gonna show me otherwise.”

“I…” You swallowed the lump in your throat, suddenly weak at his gaze. “H-how?”

You look into his eyes and you can see it. You can see how much he wants you and how intense that want is. No one has ever looked at you that way before and it made your stomach erupt in butterflies. Quickly, you turn your head away not being able to handle the intensity of his stare. You feel his fingers on your chin guiding you to look back up at him, holding you there so he can take in all the features of your face. Its like he’s looking at you for the first time. His fingers move gently from your chin down to your neck, your breathing hitched in your throat when you felt the soft pad of his thumb move across your lips.

“If you want me to stop, tell me sweetheart,” He’s eyes had gotten a few shades darker and his voice seemed more strained than usual. Kakyoins free hand traveled under the sweater your were wearing, fingers lightly dancing along your side as his other hand stayed on you face, gently tracing the outline of your lips with his thumb. “Tell me right now and I’ll go back to pitching solo cups and scrubbing counters.”

In the pit of your stomach you knew you shouldn’t. You knew that if Jojo ever found out he’d flip, he’d always done his best to keep you and his friends separate. You always thought it was because you annoyed him and he didn’t want to have to be around you more than you already were, Kakyoin knew that it was because no matter how the man acted, he deeply cared for you and would do anything to protect you. These thoughts of Jotaro’s reaction filtered through your mind but your brother wasn’t here right now.

You acted on impulse, your tongue peaking out of your mouth to coax Kakyoins thumb between your lips. He watched with heavy lidded eyes as you gently sucked on the digit, swiping your tongue along the length of it. His breathing picked up for a moment before mumbling a quiet, “Fuck.”

Almost instantly you were hoisted on the counter with his lips against yours and wasting no time to swipe his tongue into your mouth. His hands quickly traveled up your thighs, pushing your skirt to pool at your hips and quickly ripping the stockings down the middle. Your legs hooked around his waist, pulling him as close to you as possible as your fingers worked at undoing his belt.

He pulls away from your lips for a moment to help you pull down his boxers and jeans. You licked your lips as you admired his cock, already hard and glistening with precum. You felt his fingers on your face again directing you to look at him.

“My cock needs to be inside you, sweetheart. Can I do that?” He was breathing heavy, he had never wanted someone so much in his life. All he wanted right now was to feel your pussy around his cock. Consequences be damned. “Can I fuck you, princess?”

You whine when you hear him speak, his voice is like nothing you ever heard before. Lust and want seemed to be dripping off every word. The whole situation leaves you speechless. At the nod of your head, Kakyoin pulls your panties to the side and slides inside you. His moan and your whimper are the only noises in the quiet apartment, his eyes watching your face intently for any sign of discomfort or desire to stop.

“Fuck me,” You breath out when your vocie finally comes to you. “Please, Kakyoin. Fuck me.”

He groans and happily obliges, rocking his cock in and out of you. Your small gasps and whimpers only egg him on more as he increases the speed of this thrust, your hands bracing yourself against the countertop. His eyes break from your face to watch his own cock slide in and out, the sight of his cock slick with your wetness makes him moan.

“Thats a perfect fucking pussy, sweetheart.” He breaths out so soft you almost can’t hear him over the slick sound of his skin on yours. His eyes find yours again, hand moving back to rest on your jawline and hold you in his gaze. He leans close and sucks your lip into his mouth, his teeth nipping at the soft flesh before soothing it with his tongue.

“You’re such a good girl,” Kakyoin tells you before pressing his lips against yours again. He picks up the pace because, goddammit, he wants to feel you cum on his cock. He pulls aways, resting his forehead against yours. Your moans are soft and the whimpers that follow cause him to smirk.

“Oh, fuck. That feels so good,” You whisper, looking into his eyes. He can see you getting closer and closer and its making it hard for him to keep composed.

“You take a cock so well, princess,” His lips brush against yours, he tilts your head to the side so that he can kiss down your neck, and then back up again. His lips find the lobe of your ear and gently suck on it. Your moans are getting more and more erratic, every now and then you’ll gasp out his name.

“You gonna be a good girl and cum on my cock,” Kakyoin whispers into your ear, his lips brushing against the shell of it. “Shit, sweetheart, I wanna feel that pretty fucking pusy come on my cock.”

It’s the sound of his voice whispering those dirty things in your ear that sends you over the edge.

“Thats it, princess. Fuck, sweetheart…I’m...shit. Can I….?” The red heads voice is ragged and incoherent but you knew what he was asking.

“Fuck, yes, please,” Its all you can do to get the words out. “Please, I wanna feel you come in me.”

You both come hard, his fingers digging roughly into the skin of your thighs and loud moans filling the space of the kitchen. The warmth of him spilling inside of you is enough to make you want a round two. After a few moments the two of you are left breathing heavy, his forehead resting on your shoulder as he tries to catch his breath.

You stay like that for a moment, trying to regain your composure and come to terms with everything that had just happened. This was a development in events that neither of you ever saw coming. Its you that make the move to separate, pushing against his chest and moving off the counter. You avoid eye contact with him, flating your skirt back down and picking up your, now ruined, stockings off the tiled floor. You could feel his cum drip out of you down to your thighs.

“That was….” Kakyoin broke the silence, buckling his belt and running a hand through his hair. You noticed he too was looking at anything but you.

“Yeah,” You nodded your head in response.

“You know we can’t uh…-”

“Yup.”

“Like, ever.”

“Trust me, I’m aware.”

“H-Happy...Happy Christmas.”

You just nod and quickly retreat to your room, throwing yourself on your bed and groaning into your pillows. After a moment, you crawled under the blankets and pulled your cat into your chest.

“Miso. I think I’m a slut….”

--------

Kakyoin watched as you retreated away down the hallway, his mind still wrapping around what had happened. The fact that he was the one that instigated it. He was the one that made all the moves and god, he shouldn’t have. But he had wanted to. He had wanted to get you in that position all night.

It was at that moment that Jotaro entered the apartment again, smelling of cigarettes and….perfume? Kakyoin was gonna have to ask him about that one later. “

“The prodigal son has returned,” The redhead teased his friend, doing his best to hide the guilt he had for what he had just done.

“Shut up,” Jotaro mumbled. He eyed his friend curiously, he was very observant and it was very naive of Kakyoin to think that he wouldn’t notice the change in his friend. “What’s wrong with you?”

I just busted a big one in your sister. And would probably do it again if the chance presented itself. No biggie.

“I’m, uh, I’m just tired.”

-----------

Thank you so much for reading this! I appreciate it very much. Let me know what you think of it and if I should continue the story. Merry Christmas!

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Four: You Can Hear it in the Silence

a/n: hello again!! So glad to have you back :) I hope you're all enjoying the story so far. It's been wonderful to read some of your comments and thoughts! I do have to give a special shoutout to @harrysblackcoat and @determined-overthinker for their continued support and feedback, it really means the world to me, so a huge thank you to you both!! I am tremendously grateful for all of you lovely readers and I hope you will enjoy chapter four as much as I enjoyed writing it! As always, my inbox is open, so feel free to drop by and chat with me after reading! Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai'i!Harry x Original Character

Warnings: swearing, allusions to sexual content

Word Count: 6.7k

read parts one, two, and three 

“You kissed him?” Maleah gasps over FaceTime, her mouth so wide, Alani fears her jaw will detach from its socket. 

She had finally decided to tell her best friend everything, excluding the Rolling Stone details, nearly two days after the last time she had seen Harry. The entire next day had been spent replaying every moment and listening to the recorded interview on her voice notes until the phone battery was completely drained. Alani’s stomach fluttered at the sound of Harry’s voice and it only made her miss him more. The part that she desperately needed her friend’s input on was what had happened immediately before she left. 

“No,” Alani clarifies, quickly. “Well, almost. Maybe—I think,”

“I’ve only been gone a couple of weeks,” Maleah starts, brows furrowed as if her brain is malfunctioning. “And you’re already swooping in on my man?”

Alani feels her cheeks warm but she pushes past it and rolls her eyes. “There is no swooping going on,”

“I don’t know. You two were caught in the rain together, sounds like swooping to me,”

“But that’s the thing,” Alani huffs. “I don’t know what it is. And I don’t know if I’m just making a big deal out of nothing,”

Maleah nods understandingly and pushes any jealousy out of her mind, the love for her best friend winning out. 

“Well, tell me exactly what happened before the kiss,”

“There was no kiss,” Alani emphasizes, thinking back to the last few minutes spent in Harry’s car. 

The sun had already set when the two of them arrived at her house, leaving little light in the already darkly tinted Range Rover. But even in the darkness, Alani could see the intensity in Harry’s eyes. Their bodies had been close enough in the confined space that she could feel the warmth radiating from him, and his vanilla scent enveloped her in an intoxicating haze. For a moment, her eyes had darted to his plush lips and she imagined what it would feel like to close the space between them. She could have sworn that he had done the same, finding his eyes wandering just below the tip of her nose when she looked up. Before anything could happen, however, she found herself reaching for the door handle and stepping into the crisp night sky. 

“But did you want him to kiss you?” Maleah questions. 

Alani waits a beat, but she doesn’t have to think about the answer. “Yes,”

“Well there you go!” her friend responds enthusiastically. “Problem solved,”

“Problem not solved,” Alani corrects. “What about the fact that he’s, like, famous? I mean what happens when he has to go back to L.A. or London or whatever?”

“Woah, woah, woah, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,”

Alani anxiously nibbles on the skin of her lower lip, not stopping even when she tastes blood. “But it’s true—” 

“Yeah, well, you don’t have to think about it right now,” Maleah assures her. “What if you just let things happen and… enjoy it for what it is?”

Alani doesn’t miss the double meaning in the last part. “Mi, you and I both know that I’ve never been one to just enjoy it for what it is,”

“I know this, and I love you,” Maleah starts slowly. “But as your best friend—and I say this with nothing but love—you need to get laid, for real,”

Alani groans, slumping further into her mattress. “But what if that’s all he wants? I just don’t think I’m ready for that,”

“And that’s perfectly fine,” her friend coos. “But from what you’ve told me so far, it doesn’t sound like that’s all he’s after,”

Alani considers this for a moment before Maleah continues. 

“Look, let’s start with something simple: do you like him? I mean, do you like spending time with him and just generally being around him?”

“Yes,”

“Then start there,” Maleah suggests. “You can enjoy someone’s company without making it romantic, it’s just friendship. Don’t put pressure on something that you’re not ready for, or something that might not even be there,”

Alani feels a small weight lifted off her shoulders and nods. “Yeah. Yeah, no you’re right I shouldn’t psych myself out over something that didn’t even happen. I mean, for all I know he has a girlfriend,”

She waits a beat before a new concern enters her mind. “Wait, does he have a girlfriend?”

“I don’t know,” 

“Well even if he does, it doesn’t matter,” Alani reaffirms. “Because we’re just friends,”

“When are you gonna see him again?” her friend asks. 

Alani stomach drops. In all her concentration of the past, she hadn’t even considered what will happen when she has to face him again. “I don’t know,”

“Who initiated the last hang out?”

“He did,” Alani admits, thinking back to the hours he had spent reading in the café until her shift was over. 

Maleah hums. “Well then it looks like the ball’s in your court,”

Alani is quiet for a moment, which her friend takes as her cue to offer some more reassurance. 

“I’m sorry I don’t have more answers for you, Nani, but it’s gonna be okay. Promise, ” 

Alani sighs, kneeling to look out the window next to her bed. 

“No, Mi, it’s okay. I really appreciate you just being there, it means a lot,”

“Of course, babes. Keep me updated.”

“Will do.”

The call ends and Alani continues watching the palm trees sway in the wind. Will do—the very same last words that she had spoken to Harry that night. Her mind wanders back to the moment right before she had opened the door to escape and plays out an alternative scenario. What would have happened if she had leaned just an inch closer? 

********

Harry pinches his lower lip between his index finger and thumb. Will do, he repeats in his mind— two words that he never knew could carry so much weight. 

“I said ‘I think Manchester United is shit,’” Nick Grimshaw says loudly, shrugging at Mitch and Jeff Bhasker when his plan doesn’t work. “I dunno, that should’ve gotten him,”

“Oh hey, Alani,” Mitch speaks into his phone loud enough for Harry to hear. This piques the singer’s attention immediately, his heart racing. “Yeah he’s right here,” 

“What the fuck?” Harry questions, zeroing in on Mitch. 

“Who’s Alani?” Nick teases with eyebrows raised into his hairline. 

Harry springs from his seat and corners Mitch, who holds his phone above his head. “Gimme the phone!”

“Hello,” Nick interrupts, watching the struggle continue. “Feeling neglected here, who’s Alani?”

The guitarist ducks and sprints to the opposite wall, Harry chasing close behind. They hop from couch to couch and swerve around fragile equipment while Mitch snickers and guards his phone close. Harry had no idea why Alani was calling and why she hadn’t reached out to him directly, but he’s dying to hear her voice again and is growing increasingly frustrated with his friend’s antics. 

“Mitchell, stop fuckin’ around!”

“I’m sorry,” he relents, holding out the phone with an amused laugh. “It wasn’t her, wrong number,”

Harry huffs and returns to his seat disappointedly, a guitar resting in his lap. Nick, who had only been able to drop in for the weekend due to his busy schedule at the BBC, narrows his eyes at both boys before speaking up again. 

“Once again, no one has answered my question.”

“She’s just a girl he’s been hanging out with,” Jeff explains nonchalantly. “He wants to have her babies.”

“Don’t,” Harry warns. 

Despite already having his fun, Mitch can’t resist adding on. “It’s none of our business… but I’ve heard a summer wedding is in the works.”

“I’m gonna go drink now,” Harry announces, standing. “And none of you fuckers are invited.”

He wanders down the hallway and into the kitchen, immediately reaching for the tequila. Is it too early for margaritas? he wonders before deciding that he wants a second opinion.  No new texts are displayed on his phone screen, much to his disappointment, but he decides to open the messages app anyway. He carefully types in Alani’s name and writes, then re-writes, the text several times before pressing send. As soon as the tag reads “delivered”, his body is filled with apprehension, but there’s no turning back. 

Harry: Is 10 a.m. too early for margaritas?

There’s a minute of silence, then two, and Harry turns his phone face down onto the counter to reach for the ingredients. It dings just as he opens the bottle of tequila and he immediately lunges for it. 

Alani: Never. Morning margs were invented for a reason. 

Relief. He quickly types out a risky response. 

Harry: Any chance I can convince you to join me?

He stares at the screen, willing the “delivered” to turn into a “read,” but it doesn’t budge. His lips ghost over the rim of the tequila bottle before he bites the bullet and takes a sip. 

Alani: Working :( sorry. Another time maybe. 

Defeat. He knows that “another time maybe” is a polite “never.” Another swig of tequila down the hatch. 

Harry: Yeah, no worries. 

Alani sets her phone down on her nightstand and brings the duvet up to her chin. She hopes with every muscle in her body that Harry doesn’t show up to the restaurant, though if he’s planning on drinking, perhaps she’s safe. Maybe I should do the same. She wonders, thinking about the rosé her mom keeps in the cupboard for special occasions. Surely heartache must be a good enough reason to crack it open. Regardless, Alani doesn’t think she has the stomach to keep it down at the present. 

********

Harry pushes the remaining peas around on his plate with the prongs of his fork. His chin rests in the heel of his hand. 

“And then I said ‘what’s the difference?’” his manager remarks, sending the rest of the group into a fit of wild laughter. 

“You’re so fucking stupid.” Mitch comments through a chuckle. 

The laughter slowly dies down and their eyes all wander to Harry who hasn’t budged for the past twenty-five minutes. They exchange worried glances, and Jeff begins to wonder if  his initial advice for Harry to go out with Alani was a mistake. 

“Hey, H,” he begins gently. “You feelin’ alright?”

Harry looks up from his plate and musters his best fake smile. “Yeah, jus’ tired,”

It was partially true; the crew had spent their entire afternoon at Honoli’i Beach practicing their surfing, though it was mostly unsuccessful for Harry—his life seemed to be a series of wipe-outs these days. 

“I’m gonna go watch a Rom-Com in my room,” he announces, standing with his plate. “Probably doze off.”

The group exchanges “good nights” before Harry saunters down the hall to his room. Settling into the bed, he flicks through the movie selection and clicks on one that he knows by heart. He contemplates texting Alani again, scrolling through their brief conversation from three days ago. Against his better judgment, he types out another message and presses send. 

Harry: Opinion on The Notebook?

He waits, attention briefly occupied by Rachel McAdams until the phone dings. 

Alani: A classic, though not as good as Dirty Dancing if I’m being honest. 

The corners of his mouth curl and he immediately types out another response. 

Harry: You have a problem with The Goss?

Alani snorts, planting her spoon into the pint of strawberry ice cream to reply. 

Alani: First, I have many gripes about you referring to Ryan Gosling as “The Goss”. Second, I was actually rooting for Lon Hammond, but maybe that’s just because I’m partial to James Marsden. And third, the scene where Baby and Johnny are dancing alone in his room. That’s all I have to say. 

Harry hums, hanging on every word. 

Harry: Confession: I’ve never actually seen Dirty Dancing…

Alani: We need to change that immediately. 

His heart pounds. So she didn’t plan on ghosting him forever. 

Harry: So Lon Hammond, that’s your type? 

Alani doesn’t know why she finds it unsettling that Harry steers the conversation away from any possible talk of them hanging out again. She reminds herself that she had been the one to decline his invitation for margaritas and shovels another scoop of ice cream into her mouth. 

Alani: Kind, supportive, successful, handsome? Yeah, I’d say so. Not to mention he forgave Allie for cheating. 

Harry: But Noah built her a house. Her dream house, I might add. 

Alani: I’m not discrediting Noah, I love a grand romantic gesture as much as the next person. Just think Lon deserved better. 

Harry grins, entirely ignoring the movie at this point. Grand romantic gestures, he notes, good to know. 

Harry: And what about the fact that Noah wrote it all down and reads their literal love story to her every time she forgets?

Alani: Maybe he deserves some rights for that. 

Alani taps the spoon against her lower lip and thinks about Cecily’s words. Just let things happen. She desperately wants to, but she doesn’t know how. The thought of getting too close only to let it all slip through her fingers is too overwhelming, so she starts with something simple: do you like spending time with him? Alani doesn’t think she could enjoy anything more. Her mind wanders back to the passenger seat of Harry’s car and the image of his wrist draped over the steering wheel, lower lip captured between his fingers. She had noted this tick early on and found it endlessly endearing. Save for the awkward fifteen minutes of their very first interview, their conversations all seemed to come so easily. Alani enjoys his quick wit and the way he speaks slowly, as if carefully weighing each word. She likes that even though the entire reason for their relationship is for her to learn all that she possibly can about him, he makes an equal effort to get to know her. Alani compares Harry’s sincere reaction to hearing that she was a journalist to David’s snarky remark. Harry had believed in her from the get-go—he had trusted her. He makes her feel seen and known. Isn’t that what it means to be loved? To be known? His words echo in her mind. 

Harry: How’s the article going?

Alani’s stomach drops. Fuck. In all her contemplation over the almost kiss, she had forgotten the truth behind her motives. She had lied. Harry had trusted her, and she had lied. Not yet, she thinks, I haven’t lied yet. It would only be a lie if she submits the article to Rolling Stone. Her throat tightens. But I’m so close. She thinks about telling him, but quickly shuts the thought down when she considers that she still doesn’t have enough material and can’t afford to risk it now. This is her chance, there’s no doubt about it. Why else would the universe have planted a world famous rockstar right at her feet just when she had decided to give up for good? Alani had to at least try, she owed it to herself, and she reasons that if Harry really cares about her, he will understand. He would have to. 

Alani: It’s going. 

Harry: Can I get a sneak peek anytime soon?

Alani: Soon. Good night, Harry. 

She sends the last text and sets her phone face down next to her. If she was going to do this, she had to do it right—even if it meant putting some space between the two of them. She owed that much to Harry. 

He sinks further into the mattress, not understanding what he had said or done wrong, but he grants Alani her space, anyway.  

Harry: Good night Alani. 

********

“You’re listening to KWPX The Wave and that was the latest single from Ariana Grande,”

Alani stops fiddling with the radio and sits back with a defeated huff. She had been in a rut with her own music lately and after spending nearly fifteen minutes in her driveway shuffling through songs, she decided to turn on the radio and leave it up to fate.

“Next up is a song from everyone’s favorite ex-boyband: One Direction,”

Goddamnit, Alani groans. She had forgotten what a bitch fate could be. 

“Now, I have to say, DeeDee,” the radio DJ starts. “I was personally heartbroken to hear the news, and I know my daughters were too,”

“Oh definitely,” DeeDee replies. “And I can’t help but wonder what this means for all of them. I mean, what do you think they’re up to these days?”

The first DJ gives a snide chuckle before he continues. “Probably doing what every twenty-something year old millionaire does: booze, cruise, and schmooze—the pretty girls, especially,”

Alani scoffs, rolling her eyes at his insinuation. She had begun to resent all of the gossip and speculation surrounding Harry’s whereabouts, especially after learning how much privacy meant to him. Moreover, she hated the twinge of jealousy that coursed through her veins at the thought of him with another girl. Alani supposes that it wasn’t entirely out of the question since they were far from romantically involved. While he had occupied her mind over the past few weeks, she knew that it was highly unlikely that he paid her the same attention. The thought still brings bile to her mouth. 

“Well whatever they’re up to, one thing seems to be pretty clear,” DeeDee speaks up again. “All eyes will be on Harry Styles. I mean, he’s really the one to watch in all of this, isn’t he?”

“I think you’re right. I’m curious to see what he’s got in store. Maybe he’ll join Justin Timberlake and Nick Jonas with the ex-boyband buzz cut. But without further ado, here’s Drag Me Down.”

Alani knows that she’ll have to talk to Harry eventually; over the past week and a half, she had dodged every invitation to hang out, left cut and dry responses to all of his texts, and even ducked into the restaurant’s walk-in fridge when he unexpectedly showed up one afternoon. While the temptation to indulge his friendly advances was high, professional boundaries needed to be established. She had already begun working on the article with material from the two previous interviews—and it wasn’t half bad—but there was still so much of the story to fill in. If Alani was going to make it all worthwhile, she had to keep digging and do it fast; she couldn’t afford to let her personal feelings get in the way.  

Her car sputters slightly as she heads south on Mamalahoa Highway and the radio fades in and out. Alani checks all of her gauges—she had made sure that the gas tank was full before leaving—and doesn’t see anything unusual. A few miles later, it jerks again before coming to a complete stop. 

“Fuck,” she cries, pounding her palms against the steering wheel. “No, no, no, no, no!”

Alani waits a moment before turning the key again, but the engine refuses to start. She whips her phone out of the cupholder and scrolls through her contact list. 

Pua—no license.

Maleah—out of town. 

Dad—also out of town, catering a wedding in Oahu. 

Mom—probably scrubbed in on a major, life-saving surgery. 

She continues scrolling until her finger lands on a name that makes her heart race and sink at the same time. 

Harry Styles—no. 

There’s no way she can justify calling him, not after giving him the cold shoulder all week. If texting back and forth was unprofessional, then asking to be rescued off the side of the road surely crossed several boundaries. Alani scans her surroundings, shielding her eyes from the blinding afternoon sun. There isn’t a car or person in sight for miles—what other choice does she have? With shaking fingers, she dials the number and presses the phone to her ear. Harry answers after the third ring. 

“Hello?” he responds loudly over the sound of cymbals crashing and laughter in the background. 

“Hi,” Alani greets, raising her voice to be heard. “It’s Alani,”

She hears shuffling on the other end and then Harry’s voice, softer this time. 

“Oh hey. How are you?”

“Good, how are you?”

Harry senses that something is off, but he’s glad to hear from Alani, nevertheless. His friends continue their antics in the studio, despite his silent gestures to knock it off, so he heads outside. 

“Uh, yeah I’m fine. S’good to hear from you,” he offers shyly. 

Alani’s chest tightens. 

“Ditto,” she replies. “Hey listen, um, I’m kind of in a bit of trouble I—” 

She hesitates. What the hell am I doing? 

“I need your help,”

Harry’s heart sinks, immediately filled with worry. 

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she reassures him. “It’s my car,”

“Where are you?”

“The highway, southbound. Just past exit 243, I think,”

“I’m on my way,”

“Thank you,” Alani offers gently. “Really, thank you.”

A soft smile spreads across Harry’s lips. “Anytime.”

He arrives in a pink Cadillac fifteen minutes later, pulling over behind Alani. She doesn’t recognize the car and  her confusion only deepens when a man with short-cropped hair emerges. As he approaches, a wave of recognition and relief washes over her. 

“Harry?”

“Hey,” he greets, walking up to the driver’s side. “Need a lift?”

Alani’s mouth hangs open ever so slightly, scanning his new appearance. He looks like a completely different person than the one she remembers, and he has the faintest trace of stubble above his lip and jaw. 

“You cut your hair,”

“I did,” he confirms. 

“It’s so short,”

“Do you like it?”

“Of course I do,” Alani offers with a light laugh, feeling flustered under his gaze. “I mean it looks great, really suits you. Not that it matters what I think, it’s your hair,”

But it did matter. Everything she did, or didn’t do, said, and didn’t say— it all mattered to him for reasons he couldn’t quite explain. And it mattered more than she would ever know. 

“So Stevie quit on you?”

Alani sighs. “I don’t know what’s wrong, honestly. All of the gauges look fine and I filled the tank this morning,”

Harry asks her to pop the hood and makes his way to the front of the Bronco. He looks around, not seeing any smoke or trace of other issues, though his knowledge of cars isn’t as comprehensive as he’d like in this situation. 

Alani joins him, doing her own scan over the inside of the hood despite the fact that she has no idea what to look for. Her eyes wander to Harry’s strong hands as they prod the various bells and whistles, and she notices the way his tanned skin glistens under the sun. The cross pendant nestled behind his white t-shirt escapes when he leans over, swinging like a mesmerizing pendulum. 

“I called a tow truck,” he says standing with his hands on his hips. “Should be here soon,”

“I’ll pay you back,” Alani offers quickly, her throat dry. 

Harry waves her concern away with a hand and places the hood back. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re okay,”

“I really owe you one,” she says appreciatively. 

He leans against the car with his arms crossed, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Have lunch with me and we’ll call it even.”

“Deal.”

The tow truck arrives ten minutes later and the driver gathers all of Alani’s information, letting her know which mechanic the car will be taken to and when she can pick it up. She sighs watching Stevie pull away down the road and imagines the dent it’ll make in her savings. Harry nudges her gently, motioning for her to get in his car. 

“New ride?” she questions, running her fingers over the cotton candy paint. 

“It belongs to the owner of the studio,” he explains. “All of the cars do except the Rover, she’s a rental. But Jeff took her out to get us lunch,”

“I’m so sorry for interrupting your plans,” Alani apologizes. And for kind of ghosting you, she thinks. 

Harry shakes his head, shifting the gear between them. “Nah, you didn’t interrupt, we were just messing around. But I am curious to know what brought you all the way out here on a Tuesday afternoon. Skipping town?”

Alani giggles at the way he says “Tuesday,” but responds despite the curious look he flashes her. “Day off. I was gonna go to the beach,”

“Bummer,” Harry offers, thanking every deity that he can name. “We could still go,”

“Your friends won’t be mad?”

“They’ll be fine,”

Alani nods, her eyes studying the orange checkers on her trousers.

“What’re you hungry for?” Harry speaks up. 

She thinks for a moment and is reminded of her original plans. “I could go for some sushi,”

“Know any good places?”

“Yeah, I’ll show you,” Alani’s curious gaze falls to the glove box before her, immediately wondering what’s inside. “Do you think the owner will be mad if I open this?”

Harry glances down at what she’s pointing to and shakes his head. “Knock yourself out,”

Alani pulls down the hatch and reaches inside; her fingers make contact with what feels like a pair of glasses. When her hand re-emerges with a pair that are pink and heart-shaped, she smiles. 

“They have good taste,” she comments, putting them on. 

Harry looks over and flashes a wide grin, the dimple that Alani has become so fond of emerging. 

“Look good on you,”

“Try them on,” Alani suggests, handing them over. 

He obliges and pushes his own pair up to make room for the other lenses. 

“What d’you think?”

“I think you should keep them,” she says. “They suit you.”

And they really do; they compliment his face well and hint to the fun, easygoing parts of his personality that Alani has recently discovered. 

She directs him to her favorite sushi spot near Bayfront Park, which is buzzing per usual. After they’ve been seated on the patio outside, Harry tucks the heart-shaped sunglasses into his t-shirt and contemplates addressing the elephant in the room: the ghosting. He doesn’t want to spook her, though,  so he decides to pose the question lightly, but Alani speaks before he has the chance. 

“So what’s with the haircut?”

Harry blinks, clearing his throat before he responds. “You hate it,”

“No!” She defends. “I like it, really, it looks great,”

“You wouldn’t bring it up if you didn’t absolutely hate it,” he teases in mock offense. 

Alani rolls her eyes, a playful smile spreading across her face. “It just seems like a huge step and I’m curious, that’s all,”

He considers this, deciding to stop giving her a hard time, and responds. “Well if you must know, it’s for an audition,”

“For?”

“A movie,”

“A movie?” Alani’s eyes grow wide. “You’re gonna be in a movie?”

“Maybe,” he clarifies. “Dunno yet,”

“Wow,”

Harry leans forward, his elbows resting on the table. “What have you been up to? Any life changing decisions?”

Alani shrugs. “Same old. Work, my summer class,”

“And how’s your family?” he asks, which catches her off guard. 

“Good. My sister’s… a moody teenager. My dad is catering a big wedding in Oahu right now. Mom’s saving lives like the badass woman she is,”

Harry laughs lightly at her comment and Alani tries to store the soundbite in the back of her mind for safe keeping.

“What about yours?” she questions. 

“Fine, yeah. Mum’s good, so’s Gemma. Talk to them at least once a week just to check in,”

He pauses to take a sip of his water before continuing. “Ever since I was about...ten, maybe, ‘ve had this feeling like—protect mum at all costs. But she’s strong, has the greatest heart,”

Alani finds it sweet that Harry speaks so highly of Anne. Her own mom had always told her that a lot can be said about the character of a man by the way he treats his mother. 

“I’m sure she misses having you around,” Alani comments, thinking of her own close relationship with her mom. “I don’t know if I could let my child leave home as early as you did,”

Harry brushes the tip of his nose with a knuckle and nods. “Was kinda hard at first, but she’s always been really supportive.”

“I bet she’s really proud.”

He offers a shy smile in response, scanning the scenery around them. 

“I’m sure your family’s proud of you too.”

Alani and Harry continue their light conversation through the entire meal, sharing stories about their families and childhood. She finds herself wishing that  she could have met a teenaged Harry, pre-fame and general world domination. He enjoys her anecdotes, soaking up every detail that he possibly can as if his life depends on it. The two of them go back and forth well after the meal is finished, only pausing when the waitress stops to check on them. 

“Maybe we should go,” Alani suggests, checking her phone for the time. “I always hate when customers stay for hours,”

“Just like I did the first time at the café?” he asks, putting his signature on the bill. 

Alani feels her cheeks warm and she quickly back pedals. “No! I mean—well, yeah, kinda—”

“And the truth comes out!”

“I was just annoyed because my sister kept bugging me to fill up your water. She was afraid you were gonna, like, get dehydrated and die or something.”

“Tell her I appreciate the concern.”

Alani laughs lightly, feeling a bit of relief when the breeze soothes her burning cheeks. The two of them make their way back into the restaurant and out the main entrance, padding down the boardwalk side by side. Harry never knows what to do with his hands, usually opting to stuff them into his pockets as he hurries down a busy street,  but he desperately wishes to occupy them a different way. His pinky involuntarily brushes the back of Alani’s hand, but he pulls away quickly to avoid freaking her out. She wishes he hadn’t. 

“What were you gonna do at the beach?” he asks to break the ice. 

She thinks for a moment, watching the different couples huddled together on the beach. “Relax, get some air. Do a little reading,”

“What’re you reading?”

“Currently this book about Laurel Canyon in California and some of the musicians who lived there during the 60s. You might like it,”

Harry’s brow raises. “Think so?”

“Yeah, it’s got Joni, Crosby, Stills, and Nash, Mamas and the Papas, all those guys. They talk about their experiences of coming to terms with rapidly growing fame, the reality of the peace and love movement, the collaborative process. Seems like something you might find interesting—relatable, even,”

"I’ll check it out,” Harry promises with a nod. 

Alani smiles gently and refocuses her attention on the horizon. “So what were you gonna do today?”

“Not much,” Think about you. “But speaking of books and stuff, I‘ve been meaning to ask. When you become, you know, the next Pulitzer Prize winner, do I get to be your plus one?”

She scoffs, squinting under the bright sun to look up at him. “I don’t know, I have to make it first,”

“And what does ‘making it’ mean to you?” Harry had been trying to re-define success, himself, and was curious to hear Alani’s thoughts on the subject.

She ponders the question for a minute, adjusting the straps of her orange tank-top to occupy her anxious fingers. “Move to New York, work for some big publication, something like that,”

“New York?” he asks, slightly taken aback. “And leave all this behind?”

“I think I’d like the change,” Alani reasons. “I love it here more than anything, but I think I’ve gotta make my own way, my own decisions. My grandma used to say that you ‘gotta swim before you drown because the ocean’s too vast and too interesting to get stuck treading water in the same place,’”

Harry nods, understandingly. “Wise woman,”

“Carolina,” Alani says, using the Spanish pronunciation that sounds like music to Harry’s ears. “That was her name, I was named after her,”

“Middle name?”

“Yeah,” she clarifies. “I’m half Mexican on my mom’s side,”

He hums. “Ever been?”

“To Mexico?” Alani asks, proceeding when he nods. “Yeah. Once when I was like, five, we went to Xcaret for my aunt’s wedding,”

“It’s beautiful there,” Harry notes. 

“What’s your favorite place that you’ve been to?” Alani questions, imagining all the stamps that must be in Harry’s passport. 

He thinks for a moment, a hum buzzing low in his throat as he sifts through his memory. “Probably Italy,”

“Lucky,” Alani muses, picturing the Gothic cathedrals that she longs to visit. 

“You’d like it there.” Harry says, truly believing it. A part of him felt that she belonged in every beautiful place he could think of. 

The two of them walk in silence for a few moments, each taking time to scope out the view around them. Alani sees a couple leaned against a staircase railing, looking deep in conversation, though probably not a pleasant one. 

“You think they’re breaking up?” Alani asks gently, nodding her head in their direction. “Or just having the talk?”

Harry scans the scenery before his eyes land on the pair that she's referring to. “Ah yes, the talk. Ye olde chat,”

“What do you think you’d be if you weren’t a musician?” She poses suddenly. He laughs to himself at the way Alani jumps from topic to topic and reasons that her mind must always be going a mile a minute. 

“A virgin,” Harry jokes, hoping that it’ll land. When she lets out a sudden, bright laugh, he looks over in relief. 

“God, you are so…” Alani trails off, shaking her head.

 He waits to see if she’ll finish the statement, but he doesn’t think she will. Truthfully, she doesn’t know what to say. The more Alani learns about Harry, the more he seems to surprise her. One minute he can be serious and thoughtful. The next, a ray of sunshine—aloof and carefree. She finds herself anticipating his every move, every word, and loving each minute that he allows her to. It makes her head spin at times, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. 

They journey down to the shore and discard their shoes in favor of feeling the cool sand beneath their toes. Alani tells Harry about the sea glass collection she had as a child, and he makes a mental note to scan the ground for any pieces she might like. She asks him if the beaches are nice in England, to which he responds a hard “no” compared to the ones in Hawaii or California. A couple of children splash in the shallow water nearby, and Alani doesn’t miss the fond look in Harry’s eye as he watches. Eventually, they wander back up to the main boardwalk when they spot a group of people  happily sipping milkshakes. Harry noticed her eyes following them, practically drooling, so he suggested it before she had to. 

“Want some?” Alani asks, her mouth full of strawberry. 

Harry gladly accepts, taking a sip from the straw that she holds out to him. He hums, letting the taste sit on his tongue before he offers  his own cup full of vanilla. She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear before leaning over for a taste. The flavor is sweet and comforting to her, despite popular opinion that it’s boring. Alani swipes her tongue across her lower lip and thinks for a moment that this is what his mouth must taste like. She wishes she could verify this thought. 

“I’m really glad you got the strawberry,” he notes, stirring his drink with the straw. “I was having a serious crisis over what to get,”

“When in doubt, always go with the pink one,” Alani says, tapping her temple, and suddenly Harry remembers that the contents of her bag were all various shades of bubble gum and dusty rose. 

“It’s the only true rock ‘n roll color,” he offers, taking another sip of his milkshake. 

“Paul Simonon?” she questions with narrowed eyes, instantly recognizing his reference to a quote from The Clash’s bassist.  

“Nothing gets past you.”

********

The clouds above start to resemble puffs of cotton candy, signaling that the day will soon draw to a close much to both Harry and Alani’s dismay. They lounge in the pink Cadillac, which is parked in an area that overlooks the entire beach, and take turns picking out the one lie amongst two truths about one another; it was a game that Harry had proposed. 

“Is it,” Alani starts, her lower lip caught between her teeth. “The four nipples?”

Harry makes a buzzer sound effect through his own laughter, temple resting against his fist as his arm drapes over the seat. 

“Wrong-o, sorry,”

“What?!” she exclaims, eyes wide. “You’re messing with me,”

“Am not,” he defends proudly. 

Alani lets out a surprised chuckle, fighting the urge to let her eyes wander below his neck. “I don’t believe you,”

“I’d prove it,” he shrugs. “But then I’d have to flash you,”

“Guess we’ll never know, then,” 

Their laughter settles down and the only sound between them is the crashing of waves in the distance. Harry lets his eyes trail down the slope of Alani’s nose to her cupid’s bow—dangerous territory. Little does he know, Alani does the same, noting the fact that his lips are heart-shaped and the perfect shade of strawberry. How sickeningly charming, she thinks. Her eyes lift back to Harry’s and there’s something hidden behind the sea-glass that she can’t quite read. The air becomes charged and the two of them are like magnets, drawn inexplicably towards one another. Alani inches closer, her heart pounding so violently in her chest, she’s afraid that he can hear it. The sound of his own blood rushing in his ears prevents this, however, as he leans in too. The space between them gets smaller, eyes fluttering shut in anticipation, when the high pitched ringing of Alani’s phone sends her jolting backward. Harry curses every deity that he can name. 

“Hello?” she responds, turning her back to him. She listens for a minute, a soft “mhmm” escaping every few seconds. “Okay, yes, I’ll be there. Thank you,” 

Alani dreads having to turn back to Harry and face the consequences of whatever lines were almost crossed. She chooses to simply ignore it all together, as if no time had passed between his shocking personal revelation and the ringing of her phone. 

“Stevie’s ready.” she says weakly. 

Harry swallows down his frustration and offers a polite smile. “Let’s go get her.”

The mechanic shop is twenty minutes from the beach; Harry and Alani spend the entire ride in silence. Neither of them address the almost kiss despite the fact that it hangs over their heads like a raincloud of uncertain emotion. She occupies her gaze with the scenery whizzing past while he tightens his grip on the steering wheel. Alani mourns the fact that their little bubble had been popped so soon, but she figures that it’s for the best. Don’t get attached, she reminds herself. Easier said than done. Harry also wallows in the aftermath of the interruption, wishing he had acted sooner. When they finally arrive at the shop, the mechanic reveals that the cause of her car troubles was a simple dead battery. Harry offers to foot the bill, but Alani refuses, deciding that she shouldn’t accept any more favors from him in order to restore the boundary. 

“So I guess this is where we part ways,” Alani says gently, toying with her keys. 

Harry scans his brain for something—anything—a single excuse to see her again, and soon. He doesn’t think he can take another week and a half of icy silence and he has a suspicion that she can’t either. After all, she had leaned in, too—hadn’t she?

“There’s this thing,” he blurts out. “A sort of jam sesh at the studio tomorrow night. There’s gonna be booze, otherwise I’d tell you to bring your sister. But I’d love for you to come, and I think it might be good for—the article, or something,”

Alani weighs the pros and cons in her mind, one of which he had already mentioned: a chance to listen to what he’s working on. It seemed professional and innocent enough, not to mention the fact that there’d be other people around to keep them in check. Once she decides it’s safe, she nods. 

“Okay, sure,”

“I can pick you up,” Harry offers. 

Alani shakes her head gently and offers a shy smile. “No, that's okay. Tomorrow night?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be there.”

They exchange good-byes and Alani thanks him for coming to her rescue, to which he offers a modest shrug. Harry speeds down the highway and back to the house, but three words linger in the silence. 

I’ll be there.

Secret’s Out (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Summary: Steve Rogers is a terrible liar.

Warnings: this was rushed (literally came to me in my sleep so im sorry if it’s kinda on the bad side), Bucky and Sam being an iconic duo, nothing bad really happens it’s just humorous. 

I’m not gonna lie this is more Bucky & Sam teasing Steve than it is Steve x Reader. 

Word Count: 2.1k 

Feedback is appreciated! I hope you enjoy!

THIS IS A CONTINUATION OF Heaven is in Your Arms

Steve Rogers is a terrible liar.

Everyone knows. He’s god’s righteous man. He’s America’s golden boy – the perfect soldier. Steve Rogers is many things, but a good liar is not one of them.

His tells were clear as day. He’d advert his gaze, he’d blush a bit, his brows would furrow, or his fingers would tremble slightly. Sometimes he’d completely ignore a question so that he wouldn’t have to provide an answer. Only those who really knew the soldier knew exactly what to look for.

“When can we see this new place?” Bucky had asked one afternoon as Steve stopped by the compound to train. Steve pretended that he didn’t hear his friend as he directed an agent to use their agility against an opponent twice their size. Bucky chuckled a bit.

Sam walked up to the two men after his session in the weight room. His skin glistened with sweat as he put his arm on Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky scowled at him, shrugging his sweaty arm off. “So, Steve, it’s been a year since you moved out. How’s the city life?”

“It’s great.” Steve responded just before he barked instructions to the agents. The other two shared a glance.

“You see, Bucko,” Sam started, “to get Steve to answer you, you gotta ask the right questions.”

“Is that so?” Bucky asked, mockingly.

Sam nodded with a smirk. “You gotta make this man sweat a little.”

“Don’t you two have some reports to finish?” Steve cut in.

“Reports were mandatory?” Bucky asked, his brows shot up in surprise. Steve and Sam frowned a bit and looked at their older friend with concern. “I’m kidding.” (He was not).

“Any sweet ladies in the city that you would like the team to know about?” Sam asked. Steve’s muscles stiffened as his jaw clenched. Sam and Bucky immediately took notice of his reaction. Steve’s silence gave them all the confirmation. “Hmmm… We can give you lady advice, Steve. You know we got you.”

“You guys are as bad as Natasha,” Steve muttered as he shook his head. (Little did they know that their advice wasn’t needed).

The following day was Steve’s day off. He promised you a picnic at the park as his apology for the 5-day mission that turned out to be a week and a half. You wore a thin light blue sweater and he wore his signature civilian get up – compete with the plaid button up and slacks. Of course, he made casual look dapper.

You laid out the blanket and flattened it onto the grass before you sat down. Steve placed the wicker basket in the center of the blanket before he situated himself next to you. He threw you a grin as you opened the basket.

“What’s got you in a happy mood?” You asked him as you pulled out your sandwiches.

He shrugged. “I don’t know… just happy to be here with you.”

“That’s cute, Rogers,” you chuckled.

Steve smirked as you began to eat. “This is great, honestly.” He said, taking a bite into his food. You quirked an eyebrow up at him as you swallowed. “You, me, picnic in the park. City’s not being attacked by aliens.” You laughed. He smiled. He loved hearing you laugh.

“What’s the next threat? Zombies?” You joked.

Steve gave you a teasing look. “That’s confidential.”

“Oh, please tell me it’s zombies. I’ve been binge watching zombie movies and I’m 100% certain I’ll survive.” Steve rolled his eyes as you ranted on about zombie survival 101.

“I’ve fought Nazis, Aliens, Titans – please, please, let it stop there. No zombies,” Steve chuckled.

“Scared, Steve?” You taunted.

He scoffed. “Not when I have a zombie expert by my side, darling.” You teasingly looked away. “Wait, you will be by my side during a zombie apocalypse, right?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but – “Steve’s jaw dropped in fake betrayal. You immediately took back your words. “Wait, no! Steve!” You reached over to him, but he snatched his hand away. You gasped. “How rude!”

“You have the audacity to leave me to fend for myself!” Steve pouted.

“Pouting doesn’t look good on you, Stevie.”

He gasped again, a hand flew to his heart. “Now you’re just trying to break my heart, doll.”

“Come here, you big baby,” you rolled your eyes at him as you pulled him to a kiss.

When you pulled away, Steve said, “oh, I think my heart is still broken.” He pulled you back in and smiled into the kiss.

“Oh my!” A woman’s voice gasped. You two broke apart and saw Margaret, your neighbor, strolling around with her yorkie.

“Miss Margaret, it’s pleasure to see you.” You smiled at the woman and she returned it.

“Clearly not as pleasurable as your little moment,” she teased which caused you to blush. You chuckled awkwardly as you looked away. “I’m glad to see you both out and enjoying this lovely day. You know how these millennials are nowadays. Always indoors, playing on their little Instachat and SnapPay.” Steve chuckled at her wording. (Before he had met you, he’d often mix up the social media platforms himself). “Oh, (Y/N), would you be a dear and walk the pup for a bit? I can’t bend down – “

“Oh, I can – “Steve began, but Margaret was very adamant that you were the one to go. Without hesitation, you stood up and took the leash from her. You cooed at the yorkie, who was very excited to see you, as you walked away.

“Now, Stevie,” Margaret said, her tone becoming stern, “have you gotten the ring?” Steve smiled as he admitted, yes. “Do you have it on you?”

“I’ve been waiting for the right time,” Steve confessed.

“Now’s a perfect time if any,” Margaret pushed. “She’s such a sweet girl. You’re a great man. You’ve been together for a while now…”

“I don’t want to ask her at an inappropriate time. I haven’t even decided what to say,” Steve admitted with embarrassment. He was known for his remarkable, inspirational speeches but for some reason he’d become speechless when he tried to propose. Every time he had the opportunity to pop the question, he became a fumbling, babbling mess that he just dropped it altogether. The velvet box he carried in his pocket for months became heavier and heavier.

“Practice, sweetheart.”

Steve sighed as he tried.

In all honesty, they could’ve done better. Hiding out in an inconspicuous van made look even more suspicious. But the two grew impatient and desperate as they parked the black van (minutes after you’ve left to walk the dog).

“What do you see?” Bucky asked Sam who had binoculars pressed up against his eyes.

“He’s talking to an old lady,” Sam muttered. “Oh, my god.”

“What?” Bucky asked, trying to take the lenses but Sam shoved him away.

“He’s asking this old lady to marry him!” Sam screamed. This time Bucky was successful at tearing the binoculars from Sam’s grip.

“What the hell, punk,” Bucky muttered.

“Damn, I knew he had a girl, but I didn’t know he had… a grandma…” Sam laughed. “Steve really took Nat’s ‘get a girl with the same life experience’ thing too seriously. She’s probably been alive as long as you, Bucky.” The two erupted into fits of laughter.

“Sammy, you owe me 10 bucks.”

-=+=-

Steve showed up to the compound the next with a big smile. He had done it. He had actually done it. And you said yes despite his stuttering and ‘um’s. You said yes.

“So, Stevie,” Sam started as Steve began to lift weights. “Anything fun happen on your day off?” Steve didn’t respond.

“Yeah, punk, anything interesting?”

“Actually,” Steve muttered as he lifted the weights with ease, “yeah. Something interesting did happen.”

“Oooh?” Sam stifled his laugh. “Do tell.”

“I will later.” Steve promised.

Nat walked into the gym and frowned at the two men who huddled around Steve. “Are you sharing stories around the campfire or are you working out?” She asked the two.

“Gossiping,” Sam answered.

“Steve walked in with the biggest grin on his face,” Bucky explained to Natasha as he walked over to another machine.

“Oh?” Natasha smirked as she sauntered over to Steve. “This have something to do with a girl?”

“A lady?” Sam asked.

“An old dame, perhaps?” Bucky added. Steve shot him a confused stare before shrugging.

“Perhaps.”

This made Sam and Bucky burst out into laughter again.

-=+=-

You fumbled with the ring as you rode anxiously in the taxi. The ring was dainty and elegant. It wasn’t too flashy (not that it needed to be). It was simple and beautiful – much like the life that you were building together. The man offered you a kind smile through the rearview mirror which you returned. “Avengers Compound, huh?” He asked. “You a recruit or something?”

“Oh no,” you shook your head, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Just visiting someone.”

“Must be one hell of a someone to be working there.” The man laughed. You chuckled.

“He sure is.”

-=+=-

“Why are you calling a meeting?” Tony asked Steve with an exasperated look on his face. He had just returned from a trip to MIT with Pepper. He was clearly tired. “And why aren’t we in the meeting room?”

Steve sighed as he looked towards the front doors. Any second now.

“Steve wants us to meet someone,” Sam explained. He and Bucky shared a look as they both stopped themselves from laughing.

“Cut it out,” Natasha scolded.

“Oh, you’re gonna be laughing, too,” Bucky mumbled. “Just wait.”

Suddenly the entrance opened, and Steve immediately ran towards it. You gave him a nervous look while he gave you an encouraging smile. He took your hand in his as he walked you towards the group. Bucky and Sam immediately stopped snickering.

“Okay, everyone, this is (Y/N).” Steve introduced. Everyone was in a standstill. “She’s my fiancé.” There was a moment of silence as Bucky and Sam tried to piece together their puzzle, only to realize they were looking at the wrong picture the entire time. Unless Steve magically had the Time Stone and reversed your aging, you definitely weren’t the elderly woman in the park.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you!” Natasha finally smiled as she walked up to you and gave you a warm embrace. “He’s kept the details to himself. Not much of a talker.”

You nodded, the nervous smile still dancing on your lips. “So, you’re the reason why Steve left?” Tony asked, abruptly. “Left the compound, I mean.”

You glanced at Steve who shook his head. “Uh, no… I told him to stay. He’s the stubborn one.” Natasha laughed at your response.

“Wait, wait,” Sam said, shaking his head. The confusion still fresh. “That old lady in the park from yesterday? She isn’t who you proposed to? Because I vividly remember seeing you get on one knee and ask her.”

“You were in the park?” Steve asked.

“We both were.” Bucky admitted.

“You proposed to Margaret?” You asked, a laugh escaping you. Steve blushed. “Aw, Stevie!” You gushed as you kissed his cheek. “When you told me you were nervous, I didn’t think you were that nervous.”

“So, Margaret is?”

“Our neighbor,” you laughed.

“She asked you to walk her dog so that she can scold me for not asking already.” Steve confessed to you. “She helped me pick the ring out months ago.”

“Months?” Tony asked, brows rose in surprise. “C’mon, pal, you gotta step up your game.”

“Happy had been carrying around a ring since 2008, sit down, Stark,” Natasha defended. She asked if she could look at your ring. You held up your hand and she marveled at the diamond. “Nice taste, Rogers.”

“Wait,” Steve cut in. “You guys thought I was dating Margaret, my elderly neighbor?”

“Whose old enough to be my grandmother’s grandmother?” You asked.

Bucky and Sam nodded, shamefully. You and Steve laughed. “Why were you guys stalking me?” Steve added, frowning a bit.

“You weren’t answering our questions.” Bucky answered. “We were curious.” Steve opened his mouth, but Bucky pointed at him, accusingly. “Don’t say ‘you could’ve asked’ because we did… You just wanted to keep your life a secret. And you’re a terrible liar.”

Steve gaped at his response and looked at you for your input. You shrugged. “You are a terrible liar, babe.”

“Wow, thanks, darling.” Steve said sarcastically.

“Well, secret’s out.” Sam clapped. “Steve Rogers officially off the market, for good.”

“Hey,” Bucky said, bumping Sam’s shoulder. “You owe me ten dollars.”

Sam shrugged him off. “Man, get off me, you little roach.”

In Sunshine & In Shadow: Chapter 1-Love & Laughs

Summary of the Series: Let's set out on the walk of life. Pack up for embarking on an adventure of a lifetime with our favourite residents. A series of love, friendship and travel. It is all about fuelling your wanderlust❤️

In this chapter: Pooja and Ethan spend some cute moments and the talk of the trip begins.

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for a long time as I figured out the storylines I wanted to do for the various pairings. Now that I have planned everything, I can finally start posting. This chapter is Poo & E. We meet the others in the next chapter💛

If you enjoyed the story, please like it, leave a comment or reblog. Your feedback keeps me going💕

Thank you so much @jamespotterthefirst for prereading. Love you💛💛

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey X f!MC (Dr. Pooja Sharma)

Word Count: around 2.2K

Rating: General

Prompt :- @choicesaprilchallenge2021 Day 6: Sonder

Derry Roasters was abuzz with enthusiasm, but it didn't seem to act on her. To her, it felt like someone had turned the hourglass of her life, let the sand flow and forgot to turn it back. Her time had stopped there on its tracks.

Around her, people rushed through their day, not waiting for anyone. She felt like the still picture amidst a fast-motion video. Sonder was the word Pooja would use to describe the way she felt. Sonder, for her, is Surprise and Wonder intertwined in a single word. Wonder, at how life changes every minute of every moment. And Surprise at how, even after so many afflictions, tribulations, one will find the happiness that destiny had in store for them.

The thoughts in her mind swirled and asked for all her cognizance. Transfixing her mind in them, she let her emotions engulf her with leaden steps.

Ting Ding Ding

Pooja's eyes tardily broke contact with the empty bone china coffee mug as she picked up her phone.

Brookline Rejuvenate sent you an email.

But for her, it manifested being a testament that all of it was happening.

That she was not tumbling around in an atrocious daydream, which would vanish the instant, she fluttered her orbs agape.

Yes.

Edenbrook, the nonpareil hospital in the entire States, was closing down.

Every day of operating there, felt like she was relishing in the will-o'-the-wisp of her aspirations.

The thoughts of Edenbrook made her mind travel to the day when it all began. The elegant calligraphy on the envelope with the Cerulean and Lime Green Logo that bore her name. The message that turned her life upside down forever.

Then the Diagnostics Team. The extreme cases they had solved. They saw its end too. They were working their free hours at the free clinic or in the ER. Everything, every day, seemed to rush around her.

The days seemed to fly past, and so did the time remaining for Edenbrook.

Everyone had started looking up places to carry on with their medical careers & residencies. But no one wanted to leave Edenbrook before it closed down. They wanted to cherish every day before the ticking clock struck midnight and supply the last of their best healthcare to as many people as possible.

The thought of leaving everything behind was painful for Pooja. You are taking away the most valuable of things, she convinced herself. You are taking away memories. Beautiful memories. Painful memories.

But there was another nagging thought that piqued her time and again.

The Gala was everything she ever imagined. But the most memorable of the moments was The Kiss. He had kissed her.

In front of everyone.

Her mind went to the embedding touches Ethan left on her that night.

Now, as Edenbrook's time came to an end, and she planned about the rest of her residency, she thought of her and Ethan's relationship.

Were they meant to be? Were all those feather-light touches, the kisses in the rain, the tears they shed together, going to end in vain? Were their lives only connected till here?

Was it the beginning of the end?

"You're here."

You will live a hundred years, Ethan Ramsey.

Tearing away from the colossal reticulation of her thoughts, she turned towards him. His summery blues, meeting her ambers.

"Hey You"

Ethan came over and sat in front of her.

"You didn't tell me you were coming here. I had to ask Alex and Sienna to know about your whereabouts."

Pooja let out a tiny laugh. "Whereabouts? You are making me feel like a criminal."

Ethan chuckled. "If so, then you would be the most beautiful criminal I have ever seen."

This made Pooja giggle harder. "You are talking as if you have met hundreds of criminals."

"I will never win any debate with you. So let's just...let it be?"

"Accepting Defeat, Dr. Ramsey?"

"If it makes you smile that, then I will always accept defeat for you."

A blush crept up her neck as she said, "Okay, too much. Now stop"

Ethan let out a last chuckle as his order arrived. A Vienna, a coffee and black forest cake for him and a butterscotch one for her.

Taking her piece in hand, Pooja said, "All I need is you."

"Hey, what about me?"

"Ah, you know you can never win the battle against this" She held up the cake.

"You're ridiculous."

A subtle tee-hee, and they were surrounded with a perfect silence as they got lost in each other's world.

A world where all the hustle-bustle inundating them evaporated. There were no questions asked, no side looks given, and no stops in the world of their love. In this world, their coffee, cake and their memories were their sole companions.

There were no catechisms, no side looks given, and no obstructions in the world of their love.

"So…umm..." Ethan began.

"Yeah?"

Oh, C'mon Ramsey, it is obvious that you have fallen real deep for her! Alex's usual tease came ringing in his ears.

Oh Lexandra, why don't you leave me alone?

But she is right.

Ugh! Since when did The Ethan Ramsey, the man who could make an intern tremble with fear, start to fumble?

He took a deep breath, centred himself and began again.

"Can we go on a tour? With all of your friends or the Invincibles as you all ridiculously like to call yourselves.

"Wait. You Remember That?"

"How can I forget when you are singing the name in front of me every 10 minutes or so?"

"Or maybe you need a membership to the Invincibles? Which, I should make clear, you are not getting."

"You are ridiculous-"

"-ly smart. Ya, I know, Thank you very much. And speaking of the trip, I would go on a trip at any time, anywhere, you don't need to ask. Just tell. I will be ready in 10 minutes."

"You know I am not talking about a trip from here to Brookline. We could go on, you know, an international tour. To a place of your choices."

Pooja's face became Stoic, expressionless. A sudden flurry of anxiousness spread through Ethan's Heart.

Then he remembered. A tip Alex had given him "free of cost" as she would like to say, a few days back.

"Anytime you are asking Poo to go on a trip to one of her favourite places, just count till five after placing your point."

"Five? Why?"

"Just do as I say, and you will see for yourself" Alex winked and left.

So he did.

One, He saw Pooja's eyes widen a bit.

Two, Her Amber eyes were full of joy and excitement.

Three, A light blush and the faint dimple on her left cheek appeared, adding a shimmer to her beauty.

Four, Her lips crept up in a faint smile.

Five, Her face and expression fully express-

"YAY! YAY! YAY!" Her cheer came along which earned her side-glances from the other customers. But who cares when it's an international trip you are talking about?

Of course, Ethan thought, Lexandra was right.

"That is a Thantastic idea!!!"

"I am sorry, but Thantastic?" Ethan couldn't help but chuckle. She was a source of his never-ending amusement.

"Gawd Thanie! Thantastic is just an Ethan version of Fantastic. Duh!"

She bent over the table.

Deceiving him to think that she was going to kiss him. In front of the entire coffee shop.

Only for her to smack his forehead lightly and comedically.

Since when did you become a sappy idiot like that? Ethan mentally ridiculed himself.

"Stop making a comedy show out of me in front of the entire coffee shop."

"Stop acting comedically, and I will stop too" Pooja shrugged and flashed that one dimpled smile that he had come to be a fan of

The things the girl does to me! And I thought love didn't exist. Even Ethan's mind was satirizing him.

The snap of two fingers brought him back from Ethan-land to the Derry Roasters, Boston, Massachusetts.

"I thought Ethan-land doesn't exist. Glad to be proven wrong." Pooja's mocking giggle was a melody he wanted to record on a vinyl and play on a record player time and again.

He thought of presenting a counter-argument.

You still won't win.

So instead of wasting his energy in vain, he decided to save it for later.

"Hmm. Coffee done. Now let's head home. We will ask them to pack the cakes."

"Buy a few more."

"Hmm?"

"You know trip planning? And I am pretty sure I said that you can bring along your fri-"

"I think you mean The Invincibles?" Pooja cut him off, cocking her right eyebrow.

"Whatever." Rolling his eyes, Ethan didn't let his amusement seep through his features.

They both got up. Ethan bought a bunch of cakes while Pooja giggled, nearly tripped and sprained her left ankle lightly, and finally succeeded in texting her mates to join them for trip-ing plan.

When Ethan came out of the coffee shop, hands full, he saw her slight limping as she walked towards their car.

Shaking his head, and having a mental peal of laughter because of her clumsiness, he went to the car. Opening the rear door, he kept all the goodies on the back seat.

Then he turned towards Pooja. She still had all of her attention transfixed in reading something fascinating on her phone. She didn't even notice him.

In a quick motion, he went up to her, and before she could process the whole thing, picked her up bridal style and seated her in the front passenger seat.

The next minute, he was behind the wheel and was driving them home. More specifically, The condo of the Invincibles.

Mental eye-roll.

"Ahem, Ahem"

Of Course. She was yet to speak something.

"So what are you now, Super Ramsey? Picking me up in the middle of the pathway?"

"You were limping, Poo."

"You know I can manage myself just fine."

He stopped the car. The condo was still a block away.

"Why did you stop? This is not where we live. You know that."

Ethan turned towards her and caressed her cheek softly.

She melted into his touch. Her eyes closed momentarily, her beautiful eyes and alluring shadowy eyelashes reflecting the serenity her heartfelt.

"Poo. I know you are a strong, independent woman. You like to be self-dependent."

He paused a short breath. Taking her hand in his and kissing the top of it, he continued,

"But I cannot see you hurt, be it a slight limp or a broken arm. I will always take care of you."

"I know you will. You always do. But a limp, a broken arm is faint compared to what I have been through. You don't need to worry about me all the time."

"I will always worry about you."

"Eth-"

He placed a finger on her lips. "No more ifs, or buts. It is something I wanna do. Not something I have to do."

And with a look of assurance and care, Ethan started to drive again. His features were calm, his blue eyes had hues of red and golden of the traffic in front of them.

The unsaid string of words that dangled between the two of them was what had tied them together so strongly. Which made him believe she was meant to be his and her to believe that he was meant to be hers.

Pooja waited for that day, impatiently, when he would be hers and she, his. Angst in fiction was her love, but angst in her real life? Not really. At least, not with Ethan Ramsey.

Stop being melodramatic.

She snapped at herself.

It took them an additional five minutes to reach the condo. Once there, Ethan was the first one to get out of the car. Pooja followed. She stood next to Ethan, who was now taking out the pastry boxes.

His senses called out to him, informed him of her presence. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the exact spot where she stood.

Then, as if it was a second nature to him, he swept her towards him by the waist and kissed her in four steps.

First, He kissed her dimpled cheek, earning a gasp from her.

Then, he kissed her forehead and left silent praises for her heart to hear.

Third, His suck on her neck felt like the touch of a feather to her.

And Lastly, His soft pink lips meet her rosy moist ones, full of passion and a love so pure that threatened to overpower their senses.

Slowly, he turned her around in the rhythm of a dance, and hugging her from the back, he sensually pulled at the tip of her ear as his soft words warmed her heart.

"Shall we?"

Not what she wanted to hear, but the feels in her heart didn't let her feel disappointed.

"Of Course." A reply she made with an unvoiced wish that the next time he kisses her like he did today, he says those words which will make her, his forever.

PS: Here's to hoping that this was not an utter mess and you enjoyed it. Thank you for reading and have a good day ahead🧡

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Ravadhi (Part 9)

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationship: Female Human x Male Half-Orc Additional Tags: Exophilia, Half-Orc, Monster Boyfriend, Interspecies Romance,Angst, Slow Burn Content Warning: Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Alcoholism, Drug Abuse Words: 4148

Holly finds out what her mother left for her in the deposit boxes. Afterward, she and Ravadhi settle into a comfortable routine until it's suddenly shattered. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

Holly arrived at the bank only ten minutes after leaving, which was not at all enough time to mentally prepare her for what she was about to find in the deposit boxes, left for her by her dead mother.

She waited in the line anxiously, her fist clenched around the keys that Tonri had given her and her chest tight.

“I can help the next guest,” The teller called. Holly knew him distantly from school, he was a Ratfolk man name was Auro. The two of them hadn’t been friends or really even spoke to each other, but like everyone at school, he knew who she and her dad was, and speculated along with everyone else. Despite that, he hadn’t ever bullied her or ignored her existence out of guilt.

“Hello, what can I help you with today?” He asked as she approached

“Hi, I inherited the keys to safety deposit boxes--” She checked the paperwork she’d received from Tonri. “F152, F153, F154, and F155.”

“Okay, I’ll just need the keys, a photo ID, the death certificate of the decedent, and inheritance letter?”

“Uh, yes, right here.”

She handed the documents to Auro, who took them and scanned them briefly, stopping on the name and glancing up uncomfortably. It was a well known fact that Holly’s mother had disappeared when she was young, but she guessed the news that she was dead hadn’t made the gossip rounds yet.

Auro cleared his throat. “Of course, right this way.” He left his desk and led Holly to a private room. “Wait here a moment and the boxes will be brought to you,” He said.

“Okay, thanks.”

She waited tensely for about five minutes. Then, Auro returned with the four boxes, setting them on the table in front of Holly. He also left a large bank bag on the table.

“Would you like privacy?” Auro asked.

“Yes, please,” Holly replied in a small voice.

He nodded and smile sympathetically, then left and closed the door.

Feeling tears prick her eyes, she sat in front of the four boxes, steeling herself to look inside. She picked the one on the right and pulled it toward her. With shaking hands, she turned the key and slowly opened the lid.

The first thing she saw were the pictures. Hundred of them. Pictures of her, of Holly as a baby, of the two of them smiling and happy and together.

Holly cried softly. She thought all the pictures had been destroyed. She spend a long time looking at the photographs of her and her mother. As she shuffled through them, and envelope fell out from the pile. She picked it up and examined it, and on the front, in her mother’s handwriting, was the word, “Holly.”

Sniffling and attempting to stem the flow of her tears, she carefully slit open the envelope and took out the contents. It was a letter. It was dated seven months before Holly’s mother disappeared.

            My baby girl,           I’m so, so sorry.        If you’re reading this, it means that son of a bitch actually killed me and my attempt to escape with you has failed. I’m sorry. I tried. I tried so hard, but he was always one step ahead of me, no matter what I did.        You once asked me, when you were very little, why I was with your father if he made me so sad. I couldn’t answer you then, because you were too young to understand. I was hoping to tell you this story in person one day when we were free of him, but it looks like that day will never come.       Abusive relationships never start out that way, you know. Your father started out sweet and kind and affectionate, and I was fooled. By God, was I fooled. He spent the first year of our relationship waiting on me hand and foot, doing anything I asked, lavishing me with gifts and attention. I was so struck by his attentiveness and loving nature that I fell for him very quickly. Looking back, I realize it was too quickly. I didn’t realize that his attention was manipulation, or that a pattern of dependence was beginning to develop.       The change was so slow that I didn’t even see it. It started with comments, off-handed observations. “Your mom was kind of rude to me today and your brother doesn’t like me. We shouldn’t go over there as much. Your friends talk about you behind your back. You should dump them and get better friends.” He began to drive a wedge between me and all of my relationships, until he was the only one left. He’d convinced me that my family hated me, that my friends were jealous of me. I started cutting ties with people who I loved dearly, and when no one was left, all I had was him. Which is exactly what he wanted.       Then there were sudden negative criticisms about my appearance or how I cooked or cleaned. I was gaining too much weight and wasn’t as pretty as I had been when we first started dating. I was spending too much time at school or work and not enough time with him. He began questioning where I went, how much money I spent, who I was with, why I was out so long. Whenever I protested, he simply said he was worried about me and that he didn’t want anything bad to happen to me, that I was careless, even reckless sometimes, and that I could get myself in trouble. I started questioning myself and actively avoiding things that would upset him. I thought he got angry with me was because he loved me. I didn’t realize he was trying to control me.       Before we got married, he had been pressuring me to leave school, saying that it was too expensive and he couldn’t afford it. I told him I could apply for grants and scholarships, but he wouldn’t hear a word of it. His temper was getting shorter and shorter by the day, and before I knew it, it seemed like he was always angry. He started drinking not long after we were engaged. But I loved him, and I figured it was just stress because of money. It was easy to dismiss the emotional and psychological abuse as stress or concern, but now I know it was never any of those things.       The physical abuse started shortly after we got married. By then, I wasn’t speaking to my family or friends anymore and we had moved to Willowridge for his work, so I was completely isolated. We had another argument about school, and it was the first time he laid a hand on me. He slapped me so hard that he knocked me to the floor, and I was shocked. Looking back now, it’s almost comically obvious that the relationship was heading in that direction, but at the time, I was terrified and so very confused. I was a smart person; smart people didn’t get into abusive relationships, it wasn’t possible. And now that I had alienated all of the people who could have helped me, I felt powerless.       My mother died, and I wanted to go to her funeral and patch things up with my family, but your father convinced me that my family didn’t want me there. They hadn’t called me, after all. There had been no invitation to attend. So I didn’t go. Then my father died, and shortly afterward, my brother took his own life. Suddenly, I was without family and it was now too late to reconnect with them. I dropped out of college due to a mental breakdown, which was what your father wanted. It was then that the abuse became extreme.       He would beat me for any small thing. I had no money, no friends, no resources, and I was now living in a town of which I wasn’t familiar. I felt trapped, but I also felt like it was my fault for falling for it, so perhaps it was what I deserved. I developed an eating disorder, lost a lot of weight, stopped leaving the house, and fell into a deep depression. I always felt anxious and sick. I didn’t even realize I was pregnant with you until I went into labor.       You were a month early, and so tiny. I hadn’t been to the doctor since before our wedding and the eating disorder made my period stop for months at a time, so I had no reason to believe I could have been pregnant.       When you were born, everything changed. I may not have been able to get out for myself, but for you, I would move mountains. I made a deal with your father; you know what it was. He wouldn’t let me work, so I had to scrounge and save any way I could. I was the weirdo who took all the coins from the “take a penny, leave a penny” tray. I dived into wishing fountains and scooped up handfuls of quarters. I’d lie to your father and say I lost the receipt when I went to buy groceries and couldn’t remember what the total was. It always earned me a beating, but it was worth it if I could manage to squirrel away even five dollars. I even sold my wedding and engagement rings. I expected to tell him I had lost them and get a beating, but he never asked about them. Someone who controlled every aspect of my life for years didn’t care that the proof of our marriage was missing. Fitting, I suppose.       I’m not sure how much I’ve managed to save; I’ve never had the chance to count it. I’ve also put away all of my jewelry, collectables, and any small thing I thought might be valuable sentimental or otherwise. I hope beyond hope that you’re free from him as you read this, but if you’re not, I hope I’ve saved enough to give you a chance to get away and live a better life. If there’s only enough for you to buy a bus ticket and get out of this godforsaken town, it’ll have been worth it.       I love you, Holly. I love you so much. If any good thing came out of that miserable bastard, it was you. You were a surprise, but once I saw your little face and your tiny hands gripped my finger, I’d have done anything to keep you safe. I’m sorry I fell short. If you hate me, I understand. But please, never doubt that I loved you. I only wish I could have been a better mother and protected you, and I hope you’re not too disappointed in me.          Forgive me. Forgive me.                    Mommy

There were tear stains on the paper, old ones from when it was written, and new ones as Holly read it. Holly held the letter to her chest and wept bitterly.

“I don’t hate you,” Holly sobbed. “I don’t.”

It took several minutes to compose herself. When she’d sniffled to a stop, she turned her attention to the other boxes. In the first, she found jewelry, coins, stock certificates, and the proof of purchase on the house. In the second, there were trinkets she’d saved from Holly’s childhood, like her footprint, her hospital bracelet, and the blanket in which she’d been wrapped in. In the third was a single item: a bank account card.

Holly took all of the items in the boxes and stepped out of the room, walking back up to the teller’s desk.

“There was this account card in the box,” She told Auro. “Do I have access to this?”

“Yes,” Auro said. “Your name is on the account.”

“Oh,” Holly said, surprised. “Can I check the balance?”

“Of course,” Auro said, entering the number into the computer. His hands stilled and he stared at the screen.

“Well?”

“Right,” He said, clearing his throat. “At present, you have $53,640.35 available in your account.”

“Fifty-three…” Holly trailed off. “That’s… mine?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Auro said. “You can use it whenever you like. I can give you a checkbook before you leave, and have a debit card mailed to you within the week.”

“Yes, please,” She replied faintly.

She rode home in a numb fog. When she arrived, Ravadhi and Sarah were sitting on the front porch as if waiting.

“Are you okay?” Ravadhi asked, immediately pulling her into a hug. You accepted it gladly. As soon as he wrapped her up in his arms, she started sobbing again, unable to stop, and started to collapse, her legs crumpling underneath her.

“Hey, it’s okay,” He said softly, moving to sit her down on the porch. Sarah sat on your other side and rubbed her arm.

“What happened?” Sarah asked.

“She left me some things,” Holly managed to gulp out, pulling some of the things from her bag to show Sarah

“Are these you when you were little?” Sarah said. “I’ve never seen pictures of you as a kid.”

“Dad got rid of them all,” Holly replied, shuffling through them to show her. “Or, I thought he had. Mom managed to save some.”

“You were really small,” Sarah said wonderingly. “Even smaller than me.”

“Mom said I was a month premature. I didn’t know that before,” Holly whispered.

“You’re mom said?” Ravadhi asked.

“Oh, she wrote me a letter,” Holly replied, pulling it from her pocket. She began to read the letter out loud to Sarah and Ravadhi. As private and emotionally charged as the letter was, Ravadhi and Sarah were the only two people in the world who Holly felt she could share it with, and because she could, she did. Not only that, she knew they would understand it in a way that no one else would.

“Do you hate her, like she said?” Sarah asked.

“No,” Holly told Sarah. “No, I couldn’t hate her if I wanted to. I wish she had been your mom, Sarah, she was such a good mom. The best.”

“Dad tricked her,” Sarah said, looking up at Holly sympathetically.

Holly nodded. “Yeah.”

“He didn’t trick my mom,” Sarah said bitterly. “All he had to do was pay for her drugs and vodka.”

“I’m sorry, Sarah,” Holly said. Sarah shrugged.

“So you own our house?” Sarah asked, changing the subject. “Are you going to kick mom out?”

“No,” Holly said. “It doesn’t matter what my feelings are for your mom, I will always make sure you have a home to go to, no matter what. But I think it’s best if she doesn’t know I own it, so maybe keep it under your hat.”

Sarah nodded knowingly.

Holly sighed heavily, wiped her face, and stood up abruptly. “Well, I am absolutely starving. Do you guys want breakfast?”

That night, Holly lay in bed, unable to quiet her mind. She had decided to keep the news about the money to herself until she knew what she wanted to do with it. There were a million possibilities bouncing around in her head, and she couldn’t pin one down. She could fix up the house for Sarah, put it away for Sarah’s college, put a down-payment on her own house, go back to school, anything. But deep down, Holly was worried.

Ravadhi had said at the beginning that she was to stay with him until she got back on her feet, but now they were dating. Would he want her to to find her own place since, she had the money to do it? She liked living with Ravadhi. It was the healthiest environment she’d ever lived in and she didn’t want to have to start all over again on her own. Was that co-dependent? Maybe, but healthy co-dependence was better than depressed, anxious solitude, as far as she was concerned. She didn’t want to leave, and she didn’t think he would just kick her out. But, as her mother’s letter had taught her, you could never be truly certain of a person’s motives or intentions. Ravadhi had been nothing but kind and caring toward her, but… people can change.

What if she could get custody of Sarah? That would be amazing. If she could prove Diane was an unfit mother, would they even let Holly get custody? She knew that they wouldn’t let Sarah live with a convicted felon, though, so if she could get custody, the matter of continuing to live with Ravadhi in his house would decide itself. As much as she cared for Ravadhi, Sarah was her first priority.

What if she lost the custody case and they put Sarah in some kind of group home? Ravadhi’s tale of being in a group terrified her and she’d never subject Sarah to it. Was it best to leave her in a neglectful environment where at least Holly knew she could take care of herself and be safe? Or try for custody and run the risk of losing her in the system?

Maybe she could ask Sarah. She had a good head on her shoulders and could make good decisions for herself. A lifetime of neglect from her own parents as well as having to take care of her beaten and bloodied sister on a regular basis had aged her prematurely, so she was used to it. Unfortunately.

There had been another thing that had been weighing heavily on her lately as well, even before learning about her inheritance: she and Ravadhi had been officially dating for about a month, but they had both cared about each other longer than that. Would… he be expecting sex? Even if he did, she didn’t think he would be the type to pressure her into it, especially given his history.

Eventually, she fell asleep, wondering if she should ask him about it. A few days later, when they were alone with each other and just sitting down to dinner, she broached the topic.

“Ravadhi?” She piped up shyly. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course, anything,” He said, picking up his fork and getting ready to tuck in to his pork stirfry and rice.

“Do… do you want to have sex with me?” She asked.

He immediately began to choke on the first bite of his food, and Holly rushed to get him some water in alarm.

When he was able to speak again, he asked, “Before I answer, is that an inquiry or a request?”

“An inquiry,” She replied.

“Okay,” He said, taking a deep breath and bracing his hands on the table. “Okay.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Holly said, wincing.

“No, no, it’s okay,” He replied, clearing his throat and taking another sip of water. “I’m glad you feel comfortable enough with me to ask. That’s really important to me, that you feel safe and comfortable.” He knitted his fingers and took a second before answering, pondering the question over in his head.

“The short answer is: yes, I do, because I care about you in both a emotional and a physical way, and part of that is wanting to be intimate and sexual. The long answer is: yes, I do, but.”

“But?”

“Yes, I do, but… I know that it scares you and that you’re not ready. Yes, but I never want to do anything to hurt you or make you feel unsafe. Yes, but I’m willing to wait as long as it takes until you feel the time is right, even if that never comes. I’m here for you because I love you, not because I want to have sex with you. Your happiness and well-being is more important to me than that.”

Holly blinked and her mouth fell open. She stared at Ravadhi in silent shock.

His brow furrowed. “What?”

“You said you loved me.”

His cheeks darkened. “Oh. I… well… yeah. I do. Love you, I mean. It’s okay if you don’t or don’t want to say it.”

Holly’s heart raced and she felt confused. “Give me some time?”

He nodded. “Yeah, absolutely.”

She nodded in return, relieved. “Thanks. And… I appreciate you being cool with everything. It may not seem like a big deal to you, but it means a lot to me.”

He smiled fondly at her and continued eating.

The school semester came to an end, and Ravadhi passed all his exams, despite working two jobs and having taken Holly in during the month when he needed to study the most. Now that school was over for the summer, he took some more time to work on the house, which he hadn’t been able to do for a long time. Holly was happy to help him, and it became a new bonding activity for them both. Sarah slept over often since it was summer break, and the three of them were happy.

It was becoming easier for her to be physically affectionate with him, holding his hand and giving him hugs and kisses more casually, which was a huge step for her. He never brought up sex or being more intimate, and Holly appreciated it.

Ravadhi still had the plumbing and overnight security job, but now that school was out, he was able to take more shifts. Holly would stay up and text him until at least his lunch break at eleven P.M. to help him stay awake.

On a warm Thursday evening as the sun was going down, Holly sat on the back porch overlooking the closed-in backyard and watched some videos on her phone while texting Ravadhi back and forth. He was bored, like he always was during his shifts at the power plant. He worked alone at the front lobby and watched the cameras, which Holly was sure was nothing short of riveting. At least he was allowed to listen to music.

>What have you got playing? She asked.

>Sevendust. It’s my go-to band. Very effective at keeping me awake.

>I bet. Do you listen to any female fronted metal bands? I think you’d really like Epica and Otep. Epica has got a great opera vibe. Oh, and Sister Sin is a really good hard rock band. Great vocalist.

>I haven’t heard those bands. They sound awesome.

>I’ll make you a playlist.

>Nice. What are you up to?

>Enjoying the nice evening. I was going to clean up the kitchen before I went to bed, but I was tired. I’ll do it tomorrow after work.

>Going on rounds. I’ll text you back in a minute.

Holly switched back over to watching true crime videos on YouTube. She blinked, and when she opened her eyes, suddenly the sun was completely down. She looked at her phone and realize she must have fallen asleep: two hours had gone by. She went over to messages and texted Ravadhi. He hadn’t texted back yet, which was weird.

>Sorry, I fell asleep. Find anything?

Holly decided to go inside and actually clean the kitchen. By the time she was done, Ravadhi still hadn’t texted back.

>Everything okay?

Ten minutes passed and there was no response. Holly began to feel uneasy. With a pit in her stomach, she dialed the power plant’s main line. Ravadhi had to answer that phone, it was part of his job. The phone rang and rang and rang. Ravadhi never picked up.

Holly’s breath stalled in her chest with panic and she called the sheriff’s department.

“Sheriff’s department,” Holly heard.

“Hi, um, look, my boyfriend is at work and he’s not answering the phone, which is part of his job, and I’m worried something may have happened to him,” Holly said in a rush.

“I’m sure he’s fine, ma’am,” The deputy said dismissively. “He’s probably in the bathroom or something. I’m not sure this warrants a welfare visit.”

“I’m telling you, something is wrong,” Holly insisted. “I haven’t heard from him in hours. That’s not something that happens.”

“You’re probably overreacting,” He said. “Just calm down--”

“Who am I speaking to?” Holly asked, getting angry.

“Deputy Reynolds.”

“Well, Deputy Reynolds, my name is Holly Stevenson. Do you know that name?”

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end. “Yes, ma’am, I know who you are.”

“Then you know you owe me. You owe me.”

The deputy didn’t respond.

“The least, the very least, you can do is make sure the person who saved my life is okay. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” The deputy replied. “I’ll send an officer right away.”

“You do that,” Holly said. “And I expect a call when you get there.”

“Yes, ma’am,” The deputy said.

Holly hung up the phone and waited anxiously, biting her nails and pacing. A full thirty tense minutes later, she saw red and blue lights outside. She rushed to the door and threw it open. The sheriff himself stepped out of the car.

“What happened?” Holly asked.

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider buying me a Kofi, becoming a Patron, or donating directly to my PayPal!

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My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

By the king’s hand 🐍 XII

Warnings: noncon/rape, violence, trauma, allusions to torture.

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You return to the capital but much has changed.

Note: Another chapter?! What!!!!! It took me a little to decide on how it was all going to unfold but I’ve figured it out and personally I think it’s just getting more and more intriguing.

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You spent another day at Alfre castle. Loki left you to the chamber glowing with the constant spark of the fire and you were thankful for the space. Hal brought your meals and sat with you as you opened the shutters to look out onto the snowy yards for a time. When the chamber grew brisk, you closed them again and sat beneath a fur by the hearth.

It all felt surreal; like a dream. When you slept, you woke with a start, convinced you were still in the cart rocking between the slosh of barreled ale. As consciousness struck, you reached to your stomach and another shock came. There really was a life inside of you. You still weren’t certain how to feel about it.

On the third day, Loki roused you in the lowlight of the early dawn. He dressed without Hal and rubbed his eyes as he yawned. He had been busy, at what you did not know, or dare ask after. He pulled on an ermine trimmed cloak and handed you a lined cape of your own.

“Are we leaving?” You asked quietly as he hovered by the fireplace.

“We must,” he replied as he leaned on the mantle and watched the flames flicker to embers. “It is a long journey and I’ve much to do.”

You hadn’t talked much in the past days. It wasn’t that you and the king had ever had very much to speak on but there was a shift. It made you uneasy; afraid.

“Ask me.” He said as he turned to you.

“What?”

“I see it on your face, mouse,” he smoothed a fold in his cloak. “So ask me what it is that makes you quiet.”

“I’ve always been quiet.” You argued.

“Ah, but you’ve ever been obliged to counter my every word,” he went to the table and took the sewn hide gloves. “So speak to me.”

“Th-- Your brother. If he knows I am found, how is he still confident?” You wondered. “Does he truly think I would not tell what he did?”

“You underestimate my brother’s arrogance,” Loki chuckled. “And he believes he is unscathed because I’ve assured him he is. Before I sent him off after his accomplice, whom I knew he would not return with, I assured him it was the guard alone who had plotted against me.” He pulled on the gloves. “I saw the glimmer in his eye. I heard the guilt in his voice as he asked again after you. I told him you were too addled to recall what happened to you.”

“And he doesn’t suspect your deception?”

“My brother is not so clever as that. It is the very reason he gave up the crown.” Loki neared and braced your shoulder, “Up, mouse.” You stood and he swept the cape around you and tied it at your throat. “Say what you will of my father, gods rest him, he was a smart man, a wiser king. Thor inherited his brutishness but not his wit.” Loki stood back and his eyes flicked up and down you, “It is the only thing I would thank him for. And my mother of course. She was too intelligent for any of us.”

He spun away and paced around the small table. He turned back as it stood between you. “You’re quiet again.”

You stared at him. Loki rarely spoke his mind, his intent, his tricks so plainly. You were waiting; waiting for the cruel king who’d sentenced you to a cell and then his bed. For the man who had dangled you before the beasts who’d done worse.

“When we have returned to the capital, it will be as it was…” It was a question, a statement; you weren’t entirely sure.

He lifted his chin and inhaled deeply. “You are as you were; my bedwarmer.”

You nodded and pulled the cape snug around you. You didn’t expect any different.

“But you carry a royal bastard. I must consider that, too.” He continued. “I suppose, it cannot be entirely the same.”

Silence. Long, tense, hot despite the dying hearth. He looked at you and for a moment, you saw pity in his green eyes.

“Mouse, go on.” He urged. “I am listening and I haven’t time to coax your words so tediously from you.”

“Why not… Send me away. I’ll only grow bigger and when the child has come--”

His face hardened and he gripped the back of a chair. “It is my child. And you remain, as before, mine. You will have your time to convalesce but I see no reason to have you away from me.” He lowered his face, “Unless you do prefer the cell again.”

You swallowed the threat. You knotted your fingers together and nodded. Loki hadn’t changed, only the circumstance. A different sort of cruelty than his brother, but cruel nonetheless.

“Should we go, then, your majesty?” You swayed on your legs anxiously.

He looked up and pushed himself straight. “Let’s,” he waved you across the room, “When we are returned to the palace, Birger will need to look you over and we have delayed for long enough.”

He opened the door and waited for you to near. As you came to the door, his hand settled on the small of your back. He leaned in and lowered his voice. “That child means there is a part of me in you. A piece of my life. A king’s life is sacred; to threaten even a drop of his blood is treason. You mightn’t care for yourself but you will see my child safe.”

You turned to look at him and his gaze pierced you to your core. You pursed your lips and nodded. He nudged you through the door and caught your arm before you could go far. He took your hand as he guided you down the spiral stairs.

“Be cautious,” he said, “These steps are treacherous.”

You let him see you through the descent as your blood grew cold. You watched the dark ends of his hair mingle with the pale fur of his collar. A shiver crawled over your flesh and you blinked away tears. Had you been stupid enough to think he cared for you? No, it was only what you could do for him; what you could give him.

🐍

You were ushered into a carriage, this one unlike the frigid cart with its stout kegs. There were cushioned benches and fur blankets awaiting you. You suspected, however, that if it wasn’t for your condition, your transport would not be so generous. Hal sat across from you as you broke your fast on nuts and oaty bread. The boy’s task was to make sure you ate and rested upon the journey. Well, there wasn’t much else to do or that you wanted to do.

He was quiet as he opened a book and read and you peeked out around the curtains, the hooves of horses trod through the snow noisily, and the voices of your escort rose now and again. You hugged a fur around you leaned against the wall of the carriage.

You peeked over at the boy. What was it to be a man? To be a noble? He might be Loki’s attendant but he had more freedom than you could dream of.

“What is it you read?” You asked curiously, bored of the grinding turn of wheels and powder of snow without.

“A Reflection on Knighthood and Gallantry,” he closed the book and smiled up at you. “The king bids it.”

“The king tells you what to read?” You wondered.

His smile grew brighter and his cheeks coloured. “He does now that he has named me his squire.” He declared. “This book is a guide on how to be a proper knight.”

“And you can learn all that from letters?” You squinted.

“And the king would teach me combat by sword,” he explained, “Train me to fight in his name.”

“Oh,” you cleared your throat, “That is a great honour. Do I call you ‘sir’ now?”

“Not yet,” he chuckled, “My lady--”

“That will never be my title,” you frowned, “I am still just… what I was.”

His smile fell and he watched you. He bent his head and thought before he spoke again. “The king did worry. He is only stubborn about his thoughts. Mostly about his emotions.”

“He cares for me as he does his favourite horse,” you scoffed, “If he could not ride anymore, he would merely find a new steed to carry him.”

“But you carry his child,” Hal countered, “That is a blessing.”

“A curse. A child I will not be allowed to love.” You folded your hands before your stomach. “A child many would hate for its ill-breeding.”

Hal was quiet. He set the book down on the bench and shifted. 

“I was with him when you disappeared. He was angry at first. That is often his first reaction. He thought you had run from him after how you’d been arguing since your illness. Then when his men did not discover you, he was concerned. And he saw the change in his brother and his guard.” The boy lowered his voice, “As I poured him wine, of which he drank much, he confessed he thought you dead.”

“And that thought troubled him?” You challenged.

“I think it did. He did not say it but he did not need to.”

You shook your head and sighed. “He would find another.” You said, “Easily. There are hundreds of peasants on the very streets I came from.”

“Well, he did change in your absence and the shadow has fallen away from him since your return,” Hal said softly, “Even as he readies for his betrothed he does linger with you.”

“Betrothed…” You’d heard the word before, from Thor. You hadn’t bothered to ask, hadn’t been so concerned or brazen. A king would need to marry eventually. You dared to hope it might distract Loki from you. “He is to marry?”

“A young princess from Ervil,” Hal said, “Syndia. She is expected in the spring.”

“So why should he want me back? He will get a proper heir on his bride.” You grumbled.

“Yes, why should he?” Hal grinned.

“Oh, hush,” you scowled, “You are young. The world seems romantic at your age. You will find it is truly tragic.”

The boy was quiet and his expression remained cheerful as he watched you. You tried to ignore him as you hunched in your seat. You pressed your palms to your stomach as it stirred. Were you hungry? Nauseous? It was hard to tell one from another.

“Stop,” you snapped at last as you looked to Hal again. “Don’t look at me thus.”

“My…” He stopped himself from the misplaced title, “I am happy to have you back, even if you will not believe it.” He said and took up his book again. “It was quiet without you.”

🐍

The capital was white with winter. You couldn’t bear to watch the streets pass as you entered the city. You would only be reminded of the life you’d never have again. You were tired and achy from days in the carriage. Sleep came in spurts but when you dozed, you returned to the grasp of your former tormentors. Awake, you never quite shook their hold on you.

You rolled through the gates of the palace and your carriage was directed around the back. You were shown into the royal abode apart from Loki; still a secret kept. 

As you were ushered down the corridors by the armored guards, you found it hard to keep your feet moving. You were reminded of Magnus and you had the stabbing urge to flee. The further you got, the more the finality of your sentence returned to you. You hadn’t been rescued, only returned to your former keeper.

You were shown into a chamber apart from the king’s. The change roiled your nerves and made you uneasy as you waited alone in the rooms. Perhaps he might be done with you. Perhaps you might wait out your pregnancy. Perhaps he might be diverted by his pending marriage and new bride. It might not be all as dire as you thought.

You paced as the door opened. Loki entered. It had been hours since your arrival but you hadn’t been able to rest. Every time you sat, you were back up on your feet within minutes. The king barely noticed you as he unbuttoned his deep green jacket and pulled a chair away from the square table for himself. He sat with a long sigh.

“You should not fret so,” he rebuked, “Sit. You will drive both of us mad.”

You stopped but did not sit. You turned to him and your skirts swirled around your legs. They were thicker than those he’d given you before; plainer. Thick wool padded for the winter air. He tilted his head as he took you in.

“My chambers are currently under repair,” he said, “So we will abide these.”

You chewed your lip and picked at the cuff of the gown. He kicked out the other chair and pointed to it.

“Sit,” he ordered, “Before I tie you down.”

You flinched. Your hands trembled and you clutched your wrist as you recalled the shackles around them. You still felt the weight; the skin still raw and tender. You remembered vaguely Hal and the guards struggling to unscrew them. You looked down at your hands and took a step back. You were overcome with a swell of terror.

Your legs crumpled and you curled up on the floor, covering your head as if you would be beaten. You rocked on your side and murmured, though your words did not make any sense, even to you.

You heard the chair, footsteps, and felt a warmth on your arm. You smacked Loki away as he touched you and you felt sobs lodged in your throat as you fought to hold them back. He caught your arm and cooed as he stroked your cheek.

“Mouse, little mouse,” he said calmly, “Shhh, please, stop this.” 

He snaked his arm beneath you as he sat on the floor and drew your upper half into his lap. He said your name and his thumbs gently brushed back and forth against your temples. He never used your name. You grabbed his wrist and your eyes rounded as you gaped up at him. You were helpless as your wits scattered around you.

“What’s wrong with me?” You whimpered.

“Nothing at all,” he moved to sit with you between his legs and leaned you against him. He rocked you back and forth as a hand stretched over your stomach and the other rested gently on your chest. “You’re safe.”

“No, no, I’m not. I’m not!” You shook and kicked your legs. 

He hushed you again as he continued to lull you. You gripped his leg tightly and he let you. He counted your breath as his fingers tapped lightly on your chest and you calmed after some time.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” he muttered. “Mouse, can I move you to the bed?”

You nodded and he carefully stood. He lifted you to your feet and led you with an arm around your back through to the bedchamber. He sat you down on the edge of the mattress and dusted off your skirts. 

“You’ve made a mess of this.” He sniffed and sat beside you to loosen the laces of the dress. You winced and he stopped. “I only want to lay you down so you can sleep, mouse.”

You went limp and let him strip away the dress before he laid you across the bed and pushed a pillow under your head. Your thin shift was taut across your swollen breasts and rounding stomach.

“I will call for Birger,” he said as his fingers danced over your middle. He stared down at your stomach and a wrinkle formed between his brows. “Rest.”

He drew the blankets over you and strode away. You heard him curse as he approached the door. You stared up at the bed curtains and curled your fingers into the bedclothes. You closed your eyes as you listened to your errant heartbeat. You felt trapped in your own body, as if it wasn’t your own.

🐍

You recalled the physician beside you. He felt your neck then your stomach. He said some words you couldn’t decipher as the king’s shadow loomed at the foot of the bed. A fire flickered and you fell asleep to the smell of the burning wood and the taste of something pungent.

When you woke, voices drifted in through the open bedchamber door. The king’s, another. You sat up dizzily and strained to hear their words. As they came clearer, you sat back against the headboard and closed your eyes again.

“The lady is here and her child. We did have to take a slow pace due to the babe.” The man said. “We’ve word the prince has barricaded himself at Starseed.”

“Ah,” Loki snickered, “Well, you’ve my maps. You know the tunnels, the passes. You’ve covered them all?”

“Four men to each,” the other confirmed. “The lady does seek an audience.”

“She will have it when I am ready.” Loki countered, “For now, you will keep her and my nephew comfortable.

“Your majesty,” you heard the clink of armor.

“And the baker’s girl?” The king prodded.

“She is in the dungeons, as you ordered,” The man replied.

“Excellent,” Loki slithered. “And she is fit to talk?”

“We await your orders.”

You opened your eyes and slowly turned your legs over the edge of the bed. You stood with the aid of the bedpost and crossed to the open door. You peered through and leaned on the frame.

“Gilla?” You asked.

Loki glanced at you and waved away the armored guard with two fingers. “As you were.” He dismissed him and stood. The man left without ado and the king stood to approach you. “Mouse, you should cover yourself.”

“What did you do to Gilla?” You caught his hands before they could meet your shoulders. “She is in the dungeon?”

“There are many baker’s daughters in this city,” Loki said evenly.

“Then tell me it is not her,” you demanded.

His mouth curved and he dropped his head. “Alright, come. Sit.” He twisted so that he gripped your wrist. “We will talk.”

He pulled you to the chaise and sat. You lowered yourself beside him as he let you go. He leaned back with the heels of his hands on the edge of the cushion and slung one leg over the other.

“It is her. She was… favoured by my brother who is now, by royal mandate, a traitor,” Loki said coolly, “And by association, it is necessary that we hold her until her innocence can be proven.”

You gasped and your lip quivered. “She… your brother…”

“Oh, she went to him all too willingly,” Loki preened, “As she did, upon my first unpleasant meeting with the girl, try to throw herself upon me.” His lip curled. “By his word, she is easily bought with pearls.”

You frowned and bit down. You were sickened by his words but could not disbelieve them. You loved Gilla but she had never been very smart. It was her foolishness which had led you to that point.

“You think she conspired with him to… to do what he did to me?”

“Oh, I cannot declare my brother, a prince, a traitor upon his perversions but I can and I have named him such upon his plot to steal back the crown he proffered.” Loki stated. “A conspiracy which I have evidence of enough to convict him twelve times over.”

“Convict? Traitor?” You tried to clear your mind of the fatigue that lingered. “Gilla wouldn’t… she’s not that--that--”

“She is dull.” Loki snickered, “Even my brother could see that.”

“So why--”

“I need witnesses for the trial.”

“Trial?”

“I cannot simply assert that my brother is a traitor. That could mean civil war. I must prove it, without a doubt, to the people. So I need witnesses against him.” Loki explained.

“And you would coerce Gilla to go along with your evidence?”

“Me? No,” he smirked, “But I think you could convince her to tell the truth to the kingdom. On the gods themselves, to confess the prince’s treachery.”

“I…” you breathed, “But what would happen to her?”

“She would not have acted in my brother’s plot, but you know men do talk carelessly after their pleasure has been taken.” He sat up and looked you in the eye. 

“You wouldn’t hurt her?”

“She will be sent away.” Loki resigned. “Far so that none know of her fate.”

“And if I refuse to betray her?”

“Why, she’s already done the same to you,” Loki sneered, “But if you choose to stand on your obstinacy, I will draw the truth from her myself and she will not leave those dungeons whole.”

“You said you have evidence.”

“I do.” He narrowed his eyes. “Do you not want vengeance? This is the way.”

“She is my friend.”

“She abandoned you. She left you that night of my coronation and when you did see her again, what did she do but preen in hopes of a jewel or coin?” Loki scowled, “She could not hide from me her envy of you. She coveted all I had given you. She did not care for your suffering.”

“And you?” You scoffed. “You don’t--”

“I never pretended to be your friend. I’ve always been straightforward in our… arrangement.” He shrugged. “You are kept well; you have clothes, food, and place in my bed. And despite your protests, you mewl in pleasure when you are at your duty.”

You stared at him; repulsed, stunned. You crossed your arms over your middle and lowered your head. One moment, he was holding you in his arms and cooing over you, the next he was speaking lecherously of how he delighted in abusing you. Threatening you into manipulating your oldest friend. 

But what else could you do?

“Promise, she will be unharmed.”

“On my orders, my men will not so much as look at her.” The king affirmed.

You nodded and raised your head again. “Alright… I’ll talk to her.”