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gojoux · 9 months

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『 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 』

· Pairing: Geto Suguru x Reader

· Summary: The girl you're supervising for a mission is a spoiled brat princess. Once her eyes met your boyfriend, she becomes obsessed with him. You decided you've had enough once she took the chance.

· CW: 11.6k (sigh) // Fluff. Angst. Annoying behaviour. Act of deception. You and the girl having a beef. Jealousy. Suggestive themes. Implied and mention of sex. Implied past oral sex. Mention of genitals lmao.

Female reader, uses she/her pronouns, called ‘girl’ and ‘miss’.

“Excuse me, but what?” You look at your teacher, Yaga, after he tells you what your next mission is.

“You heard me. Your next mission is to look after one of the higher-ups' grand-daughter. Her parents are going out of town for a five days, and they want you to look after their only daughter.” Yaga explained once more.

“Your job is to keep her safe from cursed spirits. She's not a sorcerer therefore she can't use cursed technique, but she does see them.” He adds.

“But, why me?” You complain but make it sound as polite as you can since he's the teacher. “Shouldn't I be going on a mission to exorcise cursed spirits around the city instead?”

“You're the only one available right now,” Yaga answers straight to the point. “Anything else you want to say?”

‘The only one available, my ass.’ You curse in your mind.

“How about Utahime-san? She doesn't go much on a mission, right?” You try to bargain, hoping he would change your position.

“That's exactly why you're assisted. You're a frontline sorcerer, Iori is not, she's a support. What would happen if a cursed spirit attacked?” He answers sternly, not buying your suggestions.

You huff at the reasonable answer he gave you. “Any more questions?” He looks at you intently. “No.” You shake your head. Yaga nods at your response, “Good. You're dismissed.”

You turn around to walk out of his office before he speaks again, “Three million yen of reward will wait for you if you complete this mission.”

You stop your track, turning back to him slowly. “Three million yen?" You repeat as if in disbelief. “For taking care of a rich man's daughter?” You ask again.

Yaga nods at you for confirmation. “Just another piece of information.” He said. “For motivation purposes.” He adds tad a bit quietly.

‘Well, I'll be damned.’

You walk side by side with your boyfriend in the school's hallway, heading out to grab some snacks and drinks before heading out to your respective missions.

“What about your mission?” He asked, looking at you. “Anything special, or just some lower-grade curses?”

You huff in annoyance. “My next mission is actually to look after the grand-daughter of one of the higher-ups because her parents are out of town. You know, keeping an eye on her from cursed spirits.” You shrug. “I hope she's not a brat.”

“Oh? So you’re just a glorified babysitter for now.” He chuckles. “Don’t screw up now, okay?” He said playfully, then looked at you and smiled. “Are you at least getting paid extra?” He then adds in a joking tone.

“Hey!” You nudge his side with your elbow. He chuckles again, smiling brightly before looking at you and stroking your cheek.

“If I had a yen for every time you make that face, I'll be able to buy myself a house.” He said with the most teasing tone. “But seriously, is that all you’re doing? Looking after a girl? It can't be hard, right?”

”Yeah, but she's the only daughter from a rich family, her parents paid a lot for this.” You answer.

”So, they're rich? Do you get to be fed delicious food, perhaps?” He suggest with a sly smile.

“You just earned yourself the easiest mission ever, love,” he then said with a small nod. “Well, that depends on the princess you're going to babysit.” He jokes a bit while still leaning close to you with a smirk.

“I could lend a hand for you if you want?” He jokingly asks you with a wink.

“Please, do. I'll split the mission's reward with you, just a bit, though.” You shake your head at the thought of something that might happen in this mere mission or is it just you overthinking.

“I have a feeling I'm the one who's going to have a hard time.” You let out a harsh sigh before shaking the negative thoughts off your head. “After that, we can get some good food.”

“I'm just messing around. I'm not taking your reward, love." He chuckled a bit, patting your head. “So long as I’m with you, it’s already a reward.”

Then, he thought for a moment before nodding. “Hey, maybe we can also cook some good food ourselves.”

“What do you say?” He asked. “I can show you how to cook some dishes that my mom taught me.” He smiles sweetly at you.

“Really? That sounds wonderful. We can do that, too.” You nod at his suggestion. He pats your head again in response.

“So, are you excited to have a new job as a babysitter?” He asked you while walking, a little smug smile appeared on his face again. “I'm sure you can manage.” He added.

“Or... Do you want me to try babysitting you first to see what it's like taking care of a child?” He asked you jokingly, looking at you.

“I'm not a child.” You pout at him as you both walk closer to the vending machine.

“Hmm? You're not?” He asked with a teasing smile, knowing that you were being affected by his comment. “Are you sure? I'm seeing a certain toddler in front of me right now.” You huff at his words.

He reaches into his pocket and takes out a few coins. “Say, do you want anything, love?” He asked you, then looked at the vending machine in front of you and the snack options.

“Cola, please.” You step closer, standing next to him. “Such a spoiled little girl.” He said jokingly before chuckling. He inserts the necessary amount of coins and waits for the cola to drop down.

“And snacks.” He took out some more coins and put them inside of the machine before getting out some chips for the two of you.

“Here you go, my child.” He said jokingly before handing you a can of cola and some chips. “Don't eat too much.” He ruffles your hair gently.

“Yes, Father. Thank you for the treats.” You play along with the game and kiss him on the cheek as gratitude.

He takes out his food, looking at you while he talks to you. “So, I guess we both have our own missions now. Who do you think will have it easier first, me or you?” He asked you, trying to initiate a little conversation.

“You.” You roll your eyes in annoyance. “I'll be stuck with a brat here instead. The only child of a rich family is not far from being spoiled after all.” You complain once again.

“You never know.” He said while eating his snack. “This person could be the sweetest thing on the face of the earth, but with the way you're talking, she probably senses your dislike for her, which will make her act out in return.” He said, still joking around with you to ease your mood about the mission.

“Please, don't jinx it.” You groan at the thought. Geto chuckles at your reaction. “Maybe this brat of a princess can be your bestie, you'll never know.” He said playfully.

“And if the brat ends up acting up like you're expecting them to, you can always ask Daddy for help.” He teases you more. “I think I will.” You roll your eyes.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, you take it out with your free hand to see that you got a text from Yaga, saying that the rich man's daughter you're assigned to has arrived at school, which means your mission starts now.

“The brat is here. I'll see you later, okay? Be safe on your mission!” You give him a short kiss on the lips. You gathered the snacks on your one arm and hold the cola on your other.

“I'll see you later, love.” He replied with his soft smile, waving goodbye to you. “Don't worry about me, I'll be back before you know it.” He added.

“Just be a good babysitter, okay?” He then smirked playfully, still waving goodbye to you. You wave back as you walk towards Yaga's office again to begin your task.

Once you reached the office, there's Yaga standing with a girl beside him outside of the office's door. They turn to you at the same time, expecting your arrival.

Did Geto really jinx it or did your instinct come true, you don't know, but you're cursing fate and whoever has sent this evil spirit to your presence.

“Oh, how kind of you.” She grabs your chips and cola from your hands. The one that your boyfriend bought for you, and this brat thought you bought this for her.

‘It's the first day, come on. You can do this.’ You mentally cheer yourself. Pessimistically.

“This is Hanada Yui, the girl you'll be looking after.” Yaga introduced you to the girl as she held the chip close to her chest. “And this is (L/N) (Y/N), the one who is going to look after you for the next five days from now.” He adds, introducing you to her.

She looks young, but not far younger than you. She dresses well with expensive brand clothing, as expected from a child coming from a rich family.

“Nice to meet you, Hanada-chan.” You forced a smile, trying to be friendly with her, grimacing at the word ‘nice’ since you know it's not true at all.

“You, too.” She answers casually, a small smile gracing her face, you're not sure if it's genuine or not, but you brush it off, trying not to care so much.

“Alright. She's yours now.” He said to you before pointing toward the girl. Yaga walks closer to you before leaning a bit closer, “Be nice to the girl, okay?” He then said to you before looking at the girl. “Try to have a conversation with her, too.”

Yaga knows that you're not exactly the friendliest around new people, let alone the ones that don't strike well with you.

“Yes, got it.” You nod at him, assuring him and yourself. “Good, good.” Yaga gives you a small approving smile before excusing himself, letting you both talk with each other.

Yui, on the other hand, looks up at you with a slight pout. “So, you're my babysitter?” She asked you, her arms crossed in front of her and still holding onto the chips and cola.

“I thought so.” She said, sounding disappointed. “I was hoping for a hot guy who's going to look after me.” She shrugs, her decorated pigtails moving as she tilts her head to the side.

“How long am I stuck with you, by the way?” She asks. “Five days.” You answer shortly, trying to not let any annoyance come out of your tone.

“Ohh, that's long.” She groans as she eats the chip. After a while of her eating her chip in silence, she suddenly asked you a question. “Why are you even a babysitter in the first place? Shouldn't you have a real job?” She asked you, curious at your response.

‘Because I'm not.’ You grumble to yourself in your mind.

“You can see curses but you can't use a cursed technique, that's why your parents sent you here and assigned me, a Jujutsu sorcerer, to look after your safety. It's my mission.” You explain to her.

“Well, that's boring.” She looks at you in disapproval.

“Why can't you at least play games with me?” She said to you while continuing to eat her snack. “I'm sure they pay you to let me have fun, I don't see the reason why you want me to just sit here all day. Do you plan on watching me until I sleep?” She asks you while sounding slightly annoyed.

“I'll do whatever you want.” You answer her, keeping your cool together. You just know that this brat is going to be a pain in the ass.

“You'll do whatever I want? No way. You're probably just trying to mess with me. I mean, you already seem like a boring babysitter to me.” She said while giving you the most unimpressed look ever.

“Hmm...” She looks at you curiously, tilting her head while looking at you with her arms crossed. She then grins at you when she sees that you're actually taking her words seriously.

“You'll do whatever I tell you to do, right? You're going to be my slave the entire time.” She then says with a smirk, and by the way you two are interacting, it seems like this is what she wanted.

‘Babysitter to slave? What a downgrade.’ You roll your eyes.

“Whatever you said, princess.” You answer with a hint of mocking. It's official, you got beef with this brat.

“Oh... Did I strike a nerve there?” She asked you with a smirk, clearly enjoying this. “I like you.” With her still smirking at you, she finally finishes her snack and hands you the empty packet of chips, looking at you while waiting for your response.

You grab the trash from her, “You're welcome.” You smile sarcastically at her as walks past you. You roll your eyes once more behind her back before following her.

“Hhmm... Alright, what should we do next?” She asked you, clearly looking for some fun. “Oh, how about a shopping spree?” She suggested.

“I think my wardrobe needs a bit of improvement. Don't you think so?” She said, expecting you to obey her orders.

“Yeah, sounds good.” You answer her, clearly not enjoying it. From now, you just have to answer her straight on, not entertain her ego even more even though Yaga just told you to be nice and talk with her.

“Ohhhh, you're actually going along with my idea, huh? I thought you'd be more resistant. Well, this is going to be fun!” She said with a slight snicker.

“Hurry up! We don't have all day!” She yelled at you as she walked ahead. It seems like she's the one in control of the situation right now, which might become a big problem if she keeps on treating you like that.

Yui wanted to go to the mall for shopping, and who are you to deny that? Your job is to look after her anyway, which means you'll be stuck around her to your own dismay. Good thing you're going to get paid well with this mission.

After the assistant manager drives to the mall and drops you both off, she excitedly enters the mall with you following close behind her.

It seems like Yui has a specific place in mind where she wants to go. She quickly makes a beeline towards a boutique store, pulling you along by the sleeves of your uniform.

“Come on, hurry!” She said as she opened the store door for you. “You better get me everything I want, okay? It's your job after all!” She said, looking at you with a smug smile before stepping inside the store.

“I thought the little princess was rich? Did Daddy not give you enough pocket money, sweetheart?” You answer mockingly with an equally smug smile. You're not going to let this brat have whatever she wants.

“Hmph.” She grunted once she heard your comment. Your words got to the little princess. She made a pout on her face, crossing her arms in front of her while letting out an angry groan.

“Of course, he gave me money! I just don't want to use it.” She said, trying to act tough. “Why should I use the allowance my daddy gave me when I could use your money instead?” She said, sounding bratty now.

“Oops, sorry, didn't bring any.” You pull the inside of your pockets out from your uniform, showing nothing with a feign apologetic tone.

It seems like that's not the right answer to say at the moment as Yui's expression immediately changes, her eyes widening as she lets out another groan of annoyance. She was pretty obviously expecting you to be her piggy bank, but that was quickly put to a stop.

She then tugs on the cuffs of your uniform sleeve aggressively, almost pulling your arm, before speaking to you in an angry voice.

“What?! So, you're saying that you're my babysitter but you didn't bring any money?” She asked you, sounding outraged by your reply. “How are you going to buy things for me then?” She then said, sounding demanding. “You better fix your mistake!”

“The garbage outside is free. I could get you that.” You shrug, looking around the boutique, not giving in to her bratty needs.

The comment you made clearly stung her heart, causing her to ball up her fists with anger.

“How dare you suggest to get me garbage, are you mocking me?” She said, her tone becoming a little more aggressive than before. “I'm not some poor kid that you could trick into thinking that getting garbage is even a good idea.” She then said, her voice getting raised a little.

“Now, let's find something to spend your money on.” She then added, pointing at you to get moving.

“Alright, alright.” You lift your hands in defense, letting her pull your uniform sleeve by force once more. “Good, you're understanding.” Then she just walks forward, expecting you to follow her.

She starts looking for something that she'll like while you're left to look after her and make sure she doesn't get into trouble.

She quickly walked over to a dress rack, and without even looking at you, she started to pull out some dresses that she wants to try

“Hm... I think I'll get this red dress.” She said to you, pointing at the red dress on the mannequin. “What do you think?” She then asked you, seemingly wanting to hear a response from you.

“That's pretty.” You look at the dress she's pointing at. What an expensive-looking dress with an equally expensive price.

This got her smiling a little bit. “You really do think it's pretty?” She asks you while still looking at the dress that she's currently pointing at. “Do you want to go ahead and pay for me?” She adds with a proud smile.

“Oh, what's the limit again? Can I get more than one dress? Hmm... I'm sure you have enough to pay.” She said before looking at you with a cheeky grin.

Oh, how you want to wipe that off her face.

“Yeah, I'm filthy rich after all.“ You cross your arms smugly. “Pick any clothes you want, princess.” You play along with her game.

She seems happy to hear that. “Great! Then, I want this green dress as well.” She said while pointing at the green dress near the red dress. “And also those shoes, they'll go great with my dresses.” She added, pointing at a pair of white shoes.

“We might as well get some accessories too. Let's see...” She strokes her chin, looking at the accessories. “I'll get this headband and... How about... This one, this one, and... This one?” She picked more dresses out of the rack. “Is that a yes on my request, Miss Babysitter?” She then asked you still with a smug smile on her face.

“Yes, princess.” You roll your eyes. She keeps going here and there. You followed her with boredom, choosing to stay on your phone. After she was done, we went to the counter to pay.

“How about you wait outside while I pay for this?” You offered. She tilts her head in confusion but does exactly what you ask her to do.

You wait at the counter, holding the things that she's chosen to buy while the saleslady is scanning the barcodes to price them individually.

“What a funny girl.” You shake your head, eyeing her from inside the boutique to make sure she doesn't go anywhere, and there are no cursed spirits around her.

“The total would be three hundred forty-six thousand yen.” The saleslady put the clothes and accessories in the bag. You give her the credit card, watching her intently.

“With the name Hanada Yui?” She asks to make sure. “That's right.” You nod, trying to hide your sly smile. “Just type in the code here.” She turns around the card swipe machine for you to enter the pin.

The thing about being a sorcerer, you got to learn how to be sneaky and smart, never let them know what your next move is. That is exactly what you did.

While Yui was busy, you sneak inside her purse, grabbing the card from one of the pockets. You're kind of surprised she doesn't notice, well, that's what people do when they're too focused on one thing. You spend your time on your phone to search for the numbers of her credit card and get the code.

‘Filty rich, I wished.’ You chuckle at your words earlier.

Poor girl really thinks you're buying all her stuff, which she chooses many on purpose, even though you feel bad for deceiving her.

“Thank you for shopping.” The saleslady gives you back the card along with the bags with a respectful bow which you return.

She waited outside while you paid for all of the dresses that she picked out. When you got out of the store, she looked at you, expecting you to hand the dresses to her.

“It took you forever.” She said, not seeming too pleased by your actions. “Are you trying to make me unhappy? Because it's working.” She added, still not getting the dresses you bought for her as she looked at you with an annoyed expression.

“Here you go, princess.” You hand her the bags full of clothes and accessories she bought. “Wanna go back now?”

She took the bags you gave to her while looking at you with a surprised smile. “Thank you, Miss Babysitter.” She said, sounding much more pleasant and bratty in a way.

“Of course, I want to go back. What? Do you think I'll willingly spend the entire day out here?” She sound annoyed by your question.

“Oh, right, I don't have to worry about that.” She then said, smirking once more. “Since you're my babysitter, you'll be with me for the entire day, whether you like it or not.”

You let out an annoyed sigh, dialing the same assistant manager to pick you up from the mall. As you wait, you got a few text from Geto.

I just finished the mission in Yokohama. Heading to Hachioji right now.

How was the babysitting duty, love?

You smile at his texts before typing,

Okay, stay safe ( ੭ ˘ ³˘)੭‎♥

It's horrid.

After a while, he read the your response and replied back,

I'll be back after a day. Be a good girl, okay? ♥

Tell me about it.

Yui seems to be curious on why you're smiling while on your phone, “Who are you texting?” You look up from your phone with a shrug, “No one.”

I'm always a good girl!!!ヽ(`д´；)/

I will later.

You put your phone back into your pocket as the car arrived. You wonder what tomorrow would be like with this brat around.

The second day doesn't get any better. This spoiled brat Yui keeps demanding things, and the more she does it, the more irritated you become.

“Can I have that?”

“Can we go here?”

“Can you buy me this?”

She keeps on asking you in a pushy tone, but you can't refuse her demands if you want to accomplish your mission.

She still doesn't show any signs of calming down as she keeps on giving you multiple different requests for you to do. She seems to be trying hard to make your mission harder than it actually is.

She's not just asking for normal stuff either, like eating snacks or drinking cold drinks in the afternoon. No, she asks for the latest fashion accessories, the newest phone model, or the trendiest hairstyle.

In other words, she's the most bratty princess you probably have seen, which makes your mission harder than you'd think.

“I thought I'm your babysitter? Not your sugar mommy?” You look at her ridiculously, refusing the things she wants. Expensive stuff? Hell, no.

“Awww, Miss Babysitter doesn't wanna be my sugar mommy?” She asks you, putting on an exaggerated fake-cute voice. “Are you too poor to buy these things for me?” She asks you mockingly.

“Oh, I suppose I am, that's not good.” You feign the act of being sad, putting a hand to your forehead for the dramatic act, before relaxing back against the couch, crossing your legs.

“I'm starting to doubt you're actually rich when you keep refusing to use your own money.” You say, trying to get a rise out of this brat. “Is your credit card actually zero?” You feign surprise.

She tilted her head in confusion for a few seconds before her face suddenly grew tense with anger. “You dare say that I'm lying about being rich, huh?” She asks accusingly.

“I'll show you, Miss Babysitter.” She reached for her handbag before taking out a big bundle of money. “Look.” She shows you the money. “Is this zero to you?” She asked with a smirk on her face, wanting to hear your answer.

“Oho...” You chuckle at the sight, amused by her reaction. “I've seen more.” You say nonchalantly as if you're not impressed.

‘Yeah, Gojo's money when he lost a bet.’ You snicker to yourself.

“More? Who do you think you are?” She asked, offended by your remark. “Are you trying to say that you're richer than me?” She said like a spoiled princess. “You want to play the ‘I'm superior to you’ game now, huh?”

You let out a yawn, choosing to play on your phone instead as you relax on the couch, letting her talk whatever she wants. She doesn't seem to like your behavior right now, especially since she's trying her best to make you entertain her.

“Hey! Aren't you supposed to be looking after me?” She snapped at you, wanting your attention. “It's your job, isn't it? I thought you'd been hired to look after my safety, not to sit on the couch and be lazy!” She added with a scolding tone.

“Do you want to get fired? You won't get paid if you don't look after me.” She said, trying to intimidate you.

“Jujutsu sorcerers don't get fired, smartass.” You answer nonchalantly as you keep playing with your phone. “What do you want me to do anyway?”

This seems to make her even more angry again. “Is that how you react when someone hires you? By ignoring their orders?” She asked you, sounding annoyed.

“As I said before, you were hired to look after my safety. Now, do your job, or I'll complain to the teacher!” She then said, sounding a little bit more stern with her words as she looked at you, waiting for your response. “Do I really need to give you instructions, Miss Babysitter?”

The princess is angry again. Text you later (⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥

He replied soon after you sent him the text,

wwwwwww alright. Later, love ♥

“Okay, then, princess. What would you like to do?” You put your phone down, leaning against the couch with your attention on her.

Her frown is replaced by a smug smile when you finally give in. “Can't you be imaginative by yourself? Do you need me to tell you what to do?” She asks you sarcastically while crossing her arms in front of her with a smug smile.

“But, I could give you some ideas on what to do.” She added before uncrossing her arms. “There's a cute cafe nearby. We could go there and have a chat. What do you say?” She sounds somewhat sweet as she says this.

“Alright, we can go there.” You get up from the couch. She seems delighted to hear your approval. “That's the spirit. Let's go there now.” She said excitedly, and with that, you both walked out of the dorm to get a ride from another available assistant manager and go to the said cafe that she mentioned earlier.

Once you manage to reach the cafe, she takes a seat and beckons you to sit down with her. “Come, sit down with me. I want to get to know you better.” She says to you, sounding pleasant. You sit in front of her right across the table.

“Now, let's begin by getting to know you first, Miss Babysitter.” She leaning towards you a little bit. “What do you like to do in your spare time? And are you in a relationship currently?” She asks you while looking at you with a small smile.

“Well, I like watching movies in my spare time. Maybe rest when I have no missions or school work.” You shrug.

When you didn't answer her last question, Yui made a curious sound. “Oh, then you're single?” She asked with a smirk on her face.

“You want to know?” You ask back teasingly. “You still didn't answer the last question, aren't you in a relationship? Don't be scared.” She sounds a little bit frustrated.

‘Damn, she's pushy as always.’

“I am.” You smile smugly. “He's a Special Grade sorcerer, he's on a mission right now.” You answer with a sense of pride.

“I see.” She leans back into her chair and crosses her arms. “So... You're saying that you're in a romantic relationship with some Special Grade sorcerer right now, huh?” She asked you, trying to make you tell her about the sorcerer she's talking about.

“How about you? Do you have any hobbies?” You avoid the topic. She seemed to be in a bit of a mood after hearing your reply, trying to change the subject.

“I asked you a question, I want you to answer that first. Tell me about this Special Grade sorcerer.” She asked you. “And no, I don't answer your questions while you're not answering mine.” She added, sounding a little bit more annoyed than before.

“Why would you want to know your babysitter's love life, hm? You wanna know if he's a hot shot or something?” You answer teasingly. Yui let out a groan while rolling her eyes.

“I should've known you won't give me a straightforward answer.” She said, annoyed. Her frown slowly changed into another smirk after you answered her question like that.

“Actually, I'm curious to know what kind of man your boyfriend is. Is he cute? Is he handsome? Does he have a great personality?” She asked you, sounding a little bit sarcastic while holding back her giggles.

“He's all of that.” You lean back on your seat, crossing your arms as well. Rubbing to her face about your boyfriend.

She raises both of her eyebrows in surprise, seeming to be a little bit frustrated now after hearing your answer.

“Wait... You serious? You actually have a hot boyfriend? He's both cute, handsome, and has a great personality?” She looks like she couldn't believe what you just told her. “No wonder you won't tell me about him.” She said with a pout on her face, crossing her arms and looking at the table.

“What? You jealous?” You snicker at her reaction, knowing exactly where this is going.

“Jealous? Me? Jealous over your boyfriend? Ha!” She answers sarcastically, shaking her head while looking at you. “I'll have you know that I can steal your boyfriend when I want to.” She added arrogantly while looking at you with a smug smile.

“So, you might want to watch what you're saying, otherwise, you might find yourself without a boyfriend by the end of the day.” She said sarcastically but a little bit intimidating at the same time.

“My boyfriend doesn't like bratty girls. Sorry, you don't have a chance.” You answer back with a feigned sympathy tone.

Her face turned into a displeased one upon hearing what you said. “What did you just call me?” She asked you, her voice sounded a little bit shaky as she gripped the arms of her chair very tightly.

“I'll have you know that I'm not a bratty girl at all.” She's defensive and a little bit prideful while giving you a cold stare. “You shouldn't assume that your boyfriend doesn't like bratty girls just because you don't like them.”

You shake your head in amusement. “Whatever you said, princess.”

We spend more or less two hours at the cafe. Yui also leads you towards the arcade since she wants to play there, this time, you really paid for it.

You can't lie, you did enjoy playing the arcade with her despite her attitude problems. After it gets darker, she requested another meal at a restaurant before heading back to the school dorm.

It's 10:34 PM once you head back to your room after assisting Yui to her room. You plop down on the bed, drained after the day.

Not long after, you heard knocking on your door. You get up with a groan, walking towards the door, ready to be greeted with the sight of Yui with her night cravings.

But to your surprise, you see your boyfriend, already home from his mission. “I'm back.” He opens his arms wide with a smile on his face. “Suguru!” You quickly jump into his embrace.

“Aww, you missed me, too, love?” He asked, holding you close into his warm body. He gives you a long kiss on your forehead before leading you back inside your bedroom before closing the door.

“I've missed you so much.” He rubs your cheek slowly while he stares at you lovingly with his soft eyes.

He chuckled slightly as you jumped into his arms, wrapping his arms around your body to hold you.

He laid you down on the bed as he lay beside you. “How was your day?” He asked you sweetly, caressing your hair.

“Tiring.” You groan, remember how you're babysitting a bratty girl who's almost the same age as yours. “The brat did give me a hard time, but she was okay today.” You've been talking about this through text, and he wants to hear it directly from you.

He chuckles lightly at your reply. “Oh, that girl again?” He asks you in a playful tone. “I see she got you all worked up, huh?” He looks at you amused.

“So, what did she do this time? Or should I say, what didn't she do this time?” He asked, curious and teasing at the same time.

“She asked if I have a boyfriend or something. She doesn't seem pleased when I answer her.” You shake your head with a dry chuckle. “Are you interested in bratty girls?” You caress his cheek with your thumb, remembering Yui's words from earlier.

He raised an eyebrow in surprise upon hearing your story, “What did she say when she found out that you're in a relationship?” He asked you while stroking your hair lovingly.

“And no, I'm not interested in bratty girls. Well, when you are being bratty, then yes. You're the only one for me.” He added in a flirty tone before leaning in to kiss your lips. “Good.” You said after returning the kiss. “Because she said she can steal you from me.” You huff.

“Steal me from you? She said that, huh?” He asked you with a chuckle, still stroking your hair. “She really thinks that she has a chance to be with me?” He asked you in a bewildered voice.

“Right? Glad you think so, too.” This time you lean to kiss him first. “Don't worry, my love. I'll always be by your side, only you.” He said assuringly.

“She can keep trying but she won't succeed.” He gave you a kiss on the forehead before adding, “She probably just said that just because she wants to make you jealous, darling.”

“Yeah, I know that.” You frown, your hand slowly sneaking under his t-shirt for comfort, feeling his toned abs and cold skin. Seems like he just took a shower before coming here.

He lets out a hum as he feels your hand touching him underneath. “Ah, you're a one handsy girl. What's getting you in the mood, darling?” He seems to be enjoying the moment as he leans closer before kissing you.

He takes off his t-shirt and tosses it to the side, holding your hands onto his chest to feel his body more. “Mmm... Forget about the bratty girl. Let's enjoy each other.” He whispers to you, the mood starting to get intimate. “Let's focus on us.”

He lets out a small groan of pleasure as you pull him into an even deeper and more passionate kiss, one that could lead to something more. He closes his eyes in bliss as he deepens the kiss, his hands gently caressing your waist.

He makes no attempt to stop you, allowing the kiss to go on for as long as you want it to. He immediately holds your body in place, wanting you to be on top of him instead.

He looks at you as he continues to kiss you, his hands traveling down your back before he holds both of your hips. He starts to unbutton your sleeping shirt, his eyes still looking at you.

“Let me give you a good time, darling.” He says in a seductive voice. His eyes traveled slowly from your shoulders to your hips, his tongue teasingly sticking out for a moment before he finally took off your shirt and threw it beside him.

“My princess deserves to be treated like a queen tonight.”

In the morning, you wake up at the continuous knocking on the door. You snuggle onto Geto's bare chest, ignoring the sound.

You're still tired after last night, and you can't even think straight right now. But the knocking is getting louder and it's starting to annoy you.

Geto wakes up as well after hearing the knocking sound. He looks at you while lying down on the bed, annoyed.

He groans, bothered by the knocking sound, so eventually, he gets up from the bed and puts his pants on. “Hmm... Who's knocking so loudly like this...” He adds, still sleepy.

He heads to the door and opens it slightly, only to see Yui, standing outside. She seems surprised to see a man, a very handsome man opening the door of your room, shirtless even.

Geto is only wearing his pants, showing off his gloriously upper body from his v-line, abs, and chest. Not to mention there's a bulge from his pants since he doesn't wear anything underneath. His long hair is disheveled across his shoulder.

She just stares at Geto silently for a moment, then starts to blush as she turns her gaze away from him, feeling a little bit embarrassed at her actions. After a moment, she speaks up.

“W-what are you doing at (Y/N)-chan's room?” She asked, still looking away as her face looks a little bit red now.

“What are you doing? Knocking on someone's door this early.” Geto answered back, leaning against the wall. His face is not pleased after being disturbed in his sleep, especially after the mission and intimate moment with his girlfriend last night.

She looks up at Geto now, her body in a more confident position. She raises an eyebrow at his reply. “Why? I'm checking in on my babysitting assignment, she's supposed to take care of me by now. Isn't that what I'm supposed to do?” She replies angrily.

“Plus, I've been hearing some noise coming from this room. Is it normal for you to let your assignment make all the noise at such an hour?” She adds with more annoyance in her voice. “I could've been sleeping instead of hearing all that noise.” A scowl appears on her face.

“Ah, right, sorry for that. We were busy last night.” He gives her a small apologetic smile, even still in his half-sleep state. She seems to be flustered upon seeing Geto's smile.

"A... ah... I see. You were busy last night doing... things." She looks away once again as she blushes slightly. “Well, at least, you're sorry. As for the noise, make sure it won't happen again.” She says while looking back at him.

“I expect you to be a proper babysitter. That means, no noise past your bedtime. Is that clear?” She asked while sounding a little bit like an annoyed teacher.

Geto shakes his head with a chuckle, starting to know why you're always rambling about this girl over the text. She has quite an attitude, and he knows you don't like being on the receiving end.

“Got it, princess~” He replied with the same tone you used on the nickname. Yui can't help but feel even more flustered at the nickname this handsome man just called her.

“What were you two doing last night? What do you mean ‘busy’?” She crossed her arms, always wanting to know everyone's business.

“Having sex?” Geto answered casually, saying the most obvious thing. “Why?”

“What?!” She exclaimed as she looked at him in shock, her eyes widened at his sudden answer.

“That's... A bit inappropriate for you to say in front of someone.” She then said, sounding a little bit embarrassed for him. “I'm sure your girlfriend wouldn't like it either.” She added.

“I know my girlfriend, she doesn't mind.” He chuckles at Yui's reaction. “By the way, what do you need this early?” He asked, back to the topic.

The answer seems to fly out of her mind once she sees Geto like she's charmed so badly that she got a few seconds of amnesia.

“N-nothing... Just tell (Y/N)-chan that she's late for babysitting. She need to accompany me, right now.” She crossed her arms in annoyance, yet her eyes are somewhere else, trailing over Geto's body, and he doesn't seem to be bothered even though he noticed.

“She's still sleeping. Do you mind a bit later?” He offered. “Are you still busy?” She raised a brow before mumbling under her breath, “Fine, then.” She said before walking away.

He could only raise a brow for what just happened before letting out a sigh and closing the door. He takes off his pants before climbing up the bed with you, cradling your body against his.

“What does the brat want?” You ask him sleepily. “She wants you to accompany her.” He answered you, still sleepy as well.

"I told her that you're still asleep, but she doesn't seem to believe me. She probably thinks that you're busy with...” He then said as he pointed at himself, wanting to imply that you're busy doing intimate things with him.

“But I told her that I'll convince you to accompany her, so please wake up.” He said to you in a stern voice, but he's definitely smiling.

“Ah, yes, my babysitting duties to take care of the brat.” You groan before slowly waking up. He smiles at you, laying his head on the pillow, “Yeah, she's really persistent in having you accompany her.” He said while rolling his eyes playfully.

“Yeah. Two more days and I'll be free from this miserable duty.”

You noticed how you feel less annoyed with Yui around. She doesn't seem to need your company like she always whined about. And you suddenly come to the realization that this brat is paying attention less to you, and is locked onto her new target.

Your boyfriend.

You frown as you sit on the dorm's living room couch, crossing your arms and looking at their interaction as you slump against the couch.

‘This little brat...’

Geto seems to be aware of Yui's presence as he looks at her while she's clinging to him, and the way she occasionally leans towards him is making him uncomfortable. “Why are you clinging to me like that?” He asked Yui with a curious look on his face.

He doesn't want to say anything mean to Yui, but he also doesn't like the way she's clinging to him.

“Do you want me to buy you something?” He added, confused but a little bit annoyed at the same time. “You shouldn't be so clingy with strangers, you know?”

“Let's get to know each other more, then!” Yui exclaimed happily, her personality changed when she was with him compared to when she was with you.

Geto seems quite troubled by this suggestion. “Why should we get to know each other more? I mean... you're already being clingy with me right now and I barely even know your last name.”

"You should be thankful I'm even tolerating you right now." He said in a stern tone. Not even a few seconds after, he sighs for a moment before deciding to give in to her demands.

“Alright, let's get to know each other more.” He said in a soft tone, sounding somewhat reluctant, but he didn't want to come off as rude.

You could see him roll his eyes while talking to Yui. “What do you want to know about me? I'll answer your questions sincerely. As long as it's not too personal.”

Yui seems to still be thinking about what to ask, but she eventually comes up with a question to ask. “Okay... Um... What's your type? Oh, and don't be embarrassed about your answer.” She asks him in a soft tone, a tone she never uses with you.

Geto raised his eyebrows in surprise upon hearing her question. You roll your eyes in annoyance at the sight. What kind of shameless ass would ask a man his type when his girlfriend is right here? The brat.

He thinks about his answer for a moment. “Well, I think I have a thing for nice and beautiful girls.” He said, looking at you when he said the word ‘beautiful’. “Which means, my girl right here is my type.” He added with a loving smile as he looked at you.

He noticed your annoyed expression, turning to Yui again. “Why did you ask me about my taste in women? Do you want to know if you're my type or not?”

“Yeah!” Yui answer. “Do you think I could be your type?” She asks in a flirty tone. You roll your eyes in annoyance once more at the sight.

Geto looked at Yui and you while rubbing his chin, trying to come up with the right answer. Instead, he gets an idea. He just wants to mess around with you, wondering how you'd react if he responded to Yui's flirting.

“Hmm... I'd say, yes, you're definitely my type.” He said with a flirtatious tone while looking at Yui, clearly trying to get you jealous.

“Who wouldn't love a cute girl like you, right?” He then said while stroking Yui's hair, looking at you while doing it. He wanted to see your reaction to their small flirting.

He kept entertaining her for a while, right in front of you. Responding Yui's flirt with his own with the gesture he only uses with you.

‘What the actual fuck?’ You scoff in disbelief. The audacity of him to mess around like that.

You're already been annoyed for the past two days stuck with this brat, and another annoyance just added to the list of your headaches.

Can't stand the sight any longer, you get up in a harsh manner before walking away, every step of your feet is hard against the wooden floor with how irritated you are.

He smiles a little bit while looking at you, noticing that you walked away after feeling annoyed.

“I see that my darling is jealous.” He said with a smile on his face before looking back at Yui. “I guess I'm going to spend the entire day with Yui, then.” He said in a playful tone while looking at her, wanting you to get even more jealous.

You frown at his words, clearly not entertained as you keep walking, not minding his comments.

He seemed to notice that you were hurt by his words as his smile turned into a soft one and got off the couch to catch up to you.

“Hey, sweetheart. Don't feel sad.” He said while reaching out to you, pulling you into a gentle hug from the back.

“You know how serious I am when it comes to our relationship, right? And I'm just joking when I was talking to Yui, you should know that by now.” He said, sounding a little bit defensive. “I was just trying to make you jealous.” He then added while caressing your hair gently.

“Yeah, I know. Why shouldn't I?” You pull yourself away from his grasp, starting to get mad at him. “Darling...” He called out to you, sounding a little bit disappointed when you pulled yourself away.

“If you know I was just trying to tease you a little bit, then why did you get mad, huh?” He asked you while caressing your arms. “I'm just trying to have some fun with you, my sweetheart.”

“I'm not in the mood, Suguru. Thank you for that.” You glare at him before walking away.

He widened his eyes in surprise when you called him by his name instead of his usual nickname, knowing that you're seriously mad right now.

“Love... Can't we just talk things out?” You can feel him following you while trying to talk to you, he still calls you by your nickname even though you called him by his name earlier.

Before he could catch up to you, Yui grabs his arms. “Just leave her, okay? You still have me.”

He looked annoyed as Yui grabbed his arm, causing him to stop in his tracks for a moment, giving her a stern look on his face.

“Stop trying to get me away from my beloved, Yui.” He looks at her, pulling his arm out of her grasp.

“Hey, hey!” Yui holds his arm yet again to hold him back from going after you, this time with more force, like how she did with you on the first day at the boutique. “We were talking before, right? Shouldn't we continue?” She smiled at him cheekily.

He lets out an irritated groan. “You really have a lot of boldness for a brat, you know that?” Yet she doesn't seem amused by his words.

He wants to talk to you and resolve this problem between you two, but it seems the brat is not letting him go that easily. He decided to give you space for a while.

“Fine, okay. We will continue, but after that, I'm going to try to talk to my girlfriend again, alright?” He said to Yui with a serious look on his face. “Yeay!” She gladly pulls him back to talk his ears off.

A few hours have passed and they're still at it. That brat keeps clinging to him wherever goes, like a parasite. You watched from afar this time, the girl has someone who's looking after her right now, why bother staying close to that nuisance?

The longer you watch her and Geto together, the more you feel frustrated and annoyed.

Geto was smiling, and Yui, at some point, laid her head against his shoulder while giggling at something he said.

“What a joke.” You mumble under your breath, feeling irritated. It almost felt like they don't even have a care in the world like they're not even thinking about being in a relationship with you or that you're right here.

Once the day comes to an end, you enter your room with a frown on your face, not planning to talk with Geto since you're still pissed at him for what he did earlier. You lay on the bed and tried to calm down, wanting to cool off a little bit in the room first.

After he escorts Yui back to her room, he lets out a sigh, “No wonder she's in a bad mood.” He shakes his head, understanding your behavior, because, damn, being close to that girl really drains your energy. Maybe she does have a cursed technique after all.

He walks towards your room, hoping to finally talk to you after making you wait for so long. He decided to not go in immediately but instead wanted to wait for a few minutes in case you're not ready to talk yet.

“Love...” He says to you from the door, not even going in yet. “Are you ready to talk?” He asked softly, guilty and worried about what he did earlier.

“Go away! Go with that brat you're having fun with earlier!” You yelled from your room, not even moving an inch from your bed.

He flinches a little from your sudden yell, slightly surprised by your tone as he tries to speak up once more. “But, love, you know I was just joking around, right? I just want to mess around with you.” He said in a soft tone while scratching his head.

“Is it really that bad?” He asked you, sad from your reply. “Please talk to me, love.” He added softly.

You keep on quiet, too tired to deal with this, but he's persistent. “Darling?” He calls out to you again, still standing right outside the door of your room.

“Please, could you just listen to what I want to say? At least give me a chance to explain.” He sounded desperate, wanting to fix whatever problem you two were having right now. “I just want to talk and spend quality time with you, is that too much to ask?”

His face filled with disappointment as he hears your silence outside the door, unsure if he should just enter and try to talk with you or not.

He sighs, trying to figure out what to do before he decides to try and enter your room in a moment. He hesitates and then, he finally does it. He slowly opened the door and entered the room without saying anything.

“What do you want?” You heard the door open and close. “I want to talk to you.” He said, somewhat defensive from your tone toward him.

He looks at you for a moment before sitting near your bed, deciding to stay in your room for the moment to talk things out. “Darling, you need to understand that I'm just trying to have fun with you. I wasn't being serious when I was flirting with Yui earlier.” He said, sincerely.

“I know.” You mumble. “I'm just not in the mood, okay? That brat gave me a hard time, I don't need my boyfriend adding the fuel.” You grumble, not even looking at him. He seems more relieved to hear that you understand his intention, but he didn't know how to react to what you just said.

He sighs before laying down on the bed and turning his body toward you, still looking at you. “I'm sorry that I have made you feel this way, darling. You're right, I wasn't thinking about your feelings at that moment.”

“Fine. Now just go to sleep or whatever.” You mumble, your back is still on him. “I can't, love.” He immediately answered.

“Do you know how worried I am right now? I don't want to lose you over something like this.” He added. “You're not. I'm not that dramatic.” You answered shortly before silence fill the room again.

“Are we really going to sleep like this? I don't want to leave things like this between us.” He said while stroking your head from the back.

“Talk to me, love.” He's desperate from your continued silence. “You're so difficult to handle sometimes.” He said in a playful tone, hoping to lighten up the mood between the two of you.

You pout against the pillow at his words. He chuckled softly at your response before he slowly lifted his body to move your front so he could see you.

“Do you always have to be like this when you get moody?” He said in a teasing tone before he started to poke at you playfully. He can't help it, he always feels like poking you whenever you pout and act like a child.

He suddenly stops poking you and sits down, sighing loudly before he speaks up again. “I'm sorry, love.” He said again. “I didn't know this would turn out to be a serious issue. I thought you would laugh or play along with me like you always do whenever I tease you.”

“Can you forgive me?” He asked in a pleading tone. You only nod against the pillow, “Okay.”

“Is that really all I get?” He whispered with a soft chuckle while trying to joke with you. “I know you're still a little bit upset with me from what I did earlier.” He went silent for a moment. “Could you smile for me, please?” He asked softly as he looked at you with a smile of his own.

“Not in the mood.” You mumble the same words again. “Just hug me.” He gives you a small nod and moves even closer to you before opening his arm and pulling you in for a warm hug.

“You're not allowed to move away from me, okay?” He said playfully before kissing you on the forehead, stroking your hair gently while still hugging you.

“You don't need to talk or smile if you're feeling moody.” He kisses you again on the forehead. “I just want to feel your presence here right now.” He said before giving you a squeeze in his embrace.

“She's going to cling all over you again tomorrow, don't get attached to her, okay?” You mumble with a hint of worry.

“Attached to her?” He asks you curiously while stroking your hair. “Is that what you're worried about?” He chuckled softly.

“Darling, why would I be attached to her? You're the one I love, and I love you for a really long time now. I'm only treating her like another girl, nothing else.” He added without sounding offended by your possible accusation.

“Now, don't get jealous of her, please.” He then said while smiling sweetly at you, wanting to reassure you that he loves you and only you.

“Yeah, okay, whatever.” You nuzzle your nose to his chest before looking up. “Kiss me. I miss you today.”

“You're such a child, aren't you?” He chuckled at your demand as he got closer to you, leaning in and planting a soft kiss on your lips before he deepened the kiss.

He presses you closer to his body as his other arm wraps around your waist, holding you in place while he was still kissing you, causing him to moan softly.

His hands are now grabbing your body, wanting to feel you more. He's holding you tightly while his lips and tongue are still playing with yours. He breaks off the kiss briefly and lets out a deep breath before he continues kissing you again.

Just like you predicted, Yui is all over your boyfriend again. This time, you're not as annoyed as yesterday after getting his assurance last night.

“Suguru-kun~ Let's walk around?” She clings to his arm as she speaks with her exaggerated sweet tone.

“Uh... Sure, I guess.” He said, sounding a bit unsure of his answer. He starts to figure that Yui can be very persistent, but it's not worth it to push her away so he gives in.

You followed closely from behind. Seems like you're no longer looking after her from cursed spirits, it's more like looking after her so she won't do anything beyond the line with your boyfriend.

“Miss Babysitter! I'm thirsty, buy me something to drink.” She turns around to talk to you, again with the demanding tone.

You roll your eyes with a sigh, ”Yes, princess.” before you walk away to find the nearest vending machine.

He looked at you when Yui asked you for a drink, not liking the way she talks to you, it makes him irritated by how demanding she was. “You can't buy it yourself?” He asked her with a raised brow.

“It's her job as my babysitter, isn't it? She's paid to do that.” Yui shrugs, not seeing the problem with this.

“You know... You can ask her in a nicer way, Yui-chan. I'm sure she will get you a drink without your demanding tone.” He advises Yui in a soft tone, like how he would scold Gojo for the way he talks.

“But, I'm being nice, though? I didn't ask a lot, didn't I?” She answered as if it was a normal thing to her. He was a little bit stumped by her remark, not expecting her answer to be like that.

“You could've said ‘please’, Yui-chan.” He chuckled softly without sounding annoyed. “But, seriously though... You should be nicer.” He switches his tone to a stern tone. “Don't ask it like that, it's rude.”

“So boring!” She whines. “Ah, by the way, I've been wanting to say this since last night, but I like you.” She lets go of his arm and steps in front of him.

He stares at her, both surprised and shocked at her sudden confession right in front of him. “What? You like me?” He asks back, somewhat confused.

“You... What do you mean?” He said in a rush voice, trying to process his thoughts right now since he doesn't know how he should respond.

“Do you mean you like me as a person or...?” He then said, still sounding confused and unsure about what was going on with Yui right now.

His eyes then widened as he finally realized what she meant with her confession, not believing what he just heard.

“What?” He sounds surprised and more scared this time, also wondering if she just made a move toward him.

“You can't be serious, right? You do know that I already have a girlfriend, and I love her.” He brushes it off after a while with a small chuckle, thinking that her love confession was just a joke of some sort.

Yui's face quickly turns into an annoyed one when he doesn't seem to take her confession seriously. “I'm serious!” She frowns at him. “I'll prove it to you.” She reached his shoulder before leaning up to kiss his lips.

He flinches back when Yui leaned in quickly to kiss his lips, taken by surprise by the sudden action that the brat just did. He stepped back, looking at her with a mixture of surprise and disappointment.

“Yui, what are you doing?!” He said in a hurried and panicked tone, asking her what she was trying to accomplish by kissing him right now when he already has you as his girlfriend. “What was that for?” His tone turns cold by the second, still trying to process what Yui has done just now.

At the same time, you just come back and are greeted by the sight. You slam one of the three soda cans that you just bought in anger, which it's supposed to be for her.

“What is this?” You glare at them. Geto immediately turns at you, wanting to explain himself and what the brat, Yui, just tried to do earlier.

He notices your angry look, but he can't really say anything against you. You have the right to be mad after what Yui was trying to do.

“Darling, I can explain everything. She's just... trying to get a reaction out of me...” He explained, sounding worried and desperate. “It's nothing like what you think it is, love!” He continued, the panic in his voice as clear as day.

He pulls himself out from Yui's hold and quickly walks towards you, holding both of your hands in tight grip. “Darling, please, trust me. I would never do anything that would hurt you like that. I love you, I only love you!" He looks at you seriously, still with a hint of panic and concern in his tone.

“So?” You turn to Yui, still standing there as if she did nothing wrong. “What does my pussy taste like?” You ask Yui straightforwardly, tilting your head to the side and crossing your arms as you glare at her.

Both of them instantly freeze at your vulgar and embarrassing question to Yui, as she lets out a surprised yelp at your word. She didn't expect this to happen, and she didn't expect a harsh word like that from you.

“If you want to taste his dick so bad you should have kissed me instead.” You look at her in disgust. Yui's eyes widened as she heard what you said and that you were serious about it.

Geto then looks at you, feeling surprised by the way you confronted her right now. “Darl—” He started, wanting to say something, but then he stopped, letting you do the talk and let out your frustration at her.

“Don't you dare talk about such things, (Y/N)-chan! I only want to be close to him because I like him, not because I want... something else." She said nervously, clearly not telling the truth, before she started to tremble when a mixture of fear and embarrassment washed over her.

“Yui-chan, what makes you think you can try to kiss me without any hesitation? You need to learn that everyone has boundaries, including yourself.” He looks at her disappointedly as he scolds her once again.

Yui's face turns red from how angry and humiliated she is after being confronted like this. And for the first time in four days, she doesn't know how to talk back like she usually does.

“I'm sick of her ass. I really am.” You take out your phone, quickly texting your upperclassmen. “I'm switching with Mei-san. She knows how to handle a brat like this one.”

“Go back to your room! I'm not assisting you again this time.” You raise your voice at her after days of keeping your annoyance back. She looks at you wide-eyed, ready to complain but when she sees how Geto looks at her, she shakes her head and runs away to the dorm.

He nods, glad that you made a good choice. “Yeah, that's actually not a bad idea. Mei-san is a good choice... I think she'll be able to handle Yui.”

He then looked at where Yui is going, wanting to confront and advise her more about her behavior, but he doesn't want to continue talking to her for too long, as he knows it will only lead to another argument and possible trouble.

He turns to you, sensing your silence while you're busy on the phone. “I'm sorry about Yui, love... I know you're still mad at me, but, please, hear me out.” He looks at you, wanting to talk to you right now as he wants to clear out this misunderstanding between the two of you.

Eventually, he walks to your side and stands close behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He then leans on your shoulder before kissing it gently. “Are you angry... with me, too?” He said in a quiet tone as he gently caressed your hair with his free hand.

“My baby...” He sighs softly when you don't answer and takes your hand gently on his own. “Can you look at me, please?” He pleads, wanting to see your face, hoping to get a chance to see your beautiful smile again.

“I'm upset.” You put your phone down. He lets out a small chuckle as he looks at you. “I know, you just gave me ‘the look’ of your sulkiness just now.”

“Still, can you look at me for a little bit? Even if you're mad at me at the moment, I still want to see your beautiful smile... I miss it.” He said softly, stepping in front of you again as he held your cheek.

“Mei-san wants the reward of my mission in return.” You pout, showing him your text with Mei-Mei, another reason you're upset.

3,000,000 yen for 5 days? Interesting. I'll take the last-day offer, then.

I'm expecting the 600.000 yen in return~

“Huh.” He reads her text. “Well, that's Mei-san for you. She loves money more than anything else.” He said in a light tone.

You look at him again. “You know, I really want to wipe your lips after that kiss with Yui.” His eyes widened at your comment. He then lets out a small chuckle, feeling slightly embarrassed by your comment.

“But, she forced herself onto me.” He said, guilty but still wanting to make things clear. “I'm sorry... If you want me to wipe my lips, then you can do so anytime.” He said, not refusing your offer.

You smile at him, cupping his face to give him a long, deep kiss. He let out a soft sigh, enjoying the feeling of your kiss, even for a moment. “This lips... Is mine to taste...” You say between kisses.

“Mmm...” He lets out a soft sound in response to your action, leaning toward you even more. He returns your kiss, making sure that it's deep and full of affection for you. His eyes were closed as if he just wants to savor your kiss as much as possible. He pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your body while caressing your back.

“Mm, I needed that..." He said softly after you two broke off from the kiss, looking at you with a smile on his face. He kisses you again, one of his hands going up to the back of your head to deepen the kiss.

You pushed your tongue against his lips to part them open, letting your tongue enter his mouth to savor him. “Mmm... Love that... Your taste...” He murmur between kisses before he pressed his lips more against yours with a bit of aggressiveness, wanting the kiss to be as fiery and lustful as he feels inside from this moment of the kiss.

He slowly moves both of his hands to your hips and pulls you towards him, wanting to feel you closer to him. He starts to kiss you down your neck, his lips trailing down your throat, nibbling the skin of your sensitive spot, his teeth lightly grazing against the delicate skin around your skin until it leaves a mark there before licking it.

“Speaking of taste...” His lips trail back up from your neck to your cheek, kissing the side of your lips. “What did you say I tasted like?” He reminds you of what you said earlier, wanting to hear it again.

“Mine.”

Got carried away with this 😮‍💨 It's originally longer, but I decided to cut some parts and replaced it with shorter words because it's already long enough 😭

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lanabuckybarnes · 1 month

Text

Always.

This is a sequel to Empty Words. I had someone ask for it and I was also thinking of writing one so here it is. I don’t know if it’ll be as good as the first part but I hope it’s up to your standards.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: none?? If you see any plz lemme know and I’ll add them.

Words: 1.1k

EMPTY WORDS

"How long has it been?"

"70 years."

The words replayed in her head constantly. It had been a year since that day, since she’d woken from her Cryo-sleep. Steve sat by her side telling her it was no longer 1945 but much later, she shouldn’t even be alive.

Tony, Howard Stark's son, had been generous enough to offer her a place to stay at the compound. She had been fed by the girl, Wanda, every day and they gave her peace since she so desperately needed it.

She never got to grieve for Bucky, not long after Steve told her of his passing, she was captured. For some Hydra experiments, according to the guy who turned green.

She still had Bucky’s jacket. She’d woken up with it wrapped around her frame, and she refused to take it off. It was the only part of him she had left.

A knock sounded throughout the room. "It's me, I've got dinner," Steve spoke from the other end of the door, his voice slightly muffled by the thick wood.

"Come in." She spoke, her words monotone and quiet.

He set the tray of food down on the bed, pasta and sauce. Wanda’s favourite. He picked up on her gloom quite easily, it must have been a perk of the super soldier serum.

"Are you alright?" Steve questioned softly, a reassuring hand rubbing her shoulder clad in the dark military jacket. He watched as she picked at the food but never put any of it near her mouth.

He knew better than to push people to talk about their feelings, he hated it when people did it to him.

They had both bonded over Bucky. In the 40s, they never really got the chance— he was too busy being Captain America, and she was too busy saving people's lives away from the frontline. He had never really spoken to her, he knew a bit about her from his old friend’s stories but besides telling her about Buck he’d never really seen her himself. In the past year though, the two had become good friends.

"It's... our anniversary, today." Her voice was small, like the squeak of a mouse, almost as if speaking any louder would scare him away. Steve didn't know how to answer. He was an excellent soldier and had always been great with words, but even he became tongue-tied at the mention of Bucky.

He blamed himself, he could have done so much better than what he did. Countless nights he stayed awake wondering how he could have changed the past, how he could convince Tony to invent some contraption and put himself in Bucky's place. Maybe he would have survived the fall.

"I'm sorry," Steve's voice mimicked her own. His arms wrapped around her smaller frame in a warm embrace, the only form of comfort he could truly give her at that moment.

She cried into his arms that night. When he eventually left she’d flopped her weak body onto the large bed that was far too comfy. She tossed and turned with Bucky's coat, hoping, wishing that dreaming hard enough would bring him back.

The compound was under attack, she had strict orders to stay in her room. Steve had warned her, promised that he’d keep them away from her but passed her a pistol as a last resort.

She could hear the sounds of bullets flying around, hitting walls and people. She felt helpless just sitting on the wide windowsill watching the world go by, what could she truly do though?

Just as a dark feathered bird flew by her window the hairs on her neck stood on end— there were eyes on her, someone stood at her door. She mentally cursed herself for setting the gun on the bedside table.

The presence stalked forward, till his thigh bumped her shoulder. Her head tried to turn to him but the feeling of coolness; a metal hand, spread over the top of her head and turned her back to face the window slowly.

The cool fingers dropped to the side of her face, tucking a few loose stands behind her ear. Was he trying to torture her? or was she finally receiving a final act of kindness before the sweet release of death? Her eyes squeezed tight in preparation, no matter the outcome she would not watch.

Death never came, no, instead the soldier flopped his large body down beside her. He was still as rigid as before, she could feel as much from the way his arm brushed against hers.

When she finally turned to look at the face of the last man she’d ever see, her killer— the muscles around her eyes pulled them wide and her breath caught in her throat.

His eyes, although obstructed by dark locks of her, emulated hers, shock evident in those deep blues along with the reflection of something she knew danced in hers— Recognition.

“B-Bucky?” She hadn’t realised tears were falling from her eyes until she spoke, her voice breaking. His head nodded softly, almost unnoticeable and his eyes glazed over as well. After all these years they were both alive, and the past 70 years' worth of bottled-up emotions bubbled over. She pulled him forward into her arms.

The way his tired body slumped forward into her frame told her he’d faced a similar story, he’d been holding onto a lot too. She could see Steve’s frame standing in her doorway in shock from her peripherals but she couldn’t find the will to glance at him. Not when he was here, not when Bucky was home.

“You came back” she whispered into his hair.

“Always”.

“Bahhhh!” God those goats were impatient. It must’ve been around 6 am, and the Wakandan heat blared through the mud-coloured walls.

“BAHHHH” the goat wailed again, more desperate and demanding than before. A groan sounded from the man behind her, his arm pulling her close and his lips ghosting over her bare shoulder.

“You gotta get up and feed them” she whispered silently hoping they’d disappear and leave them in each other’s arms, at least for a little bit longer. The heat made their embrace almost impossible to withstand but she’d missed years' worth of closeness to him, some sun wasn’t going to stop her now.

His grumbling vibrated against her neck before he pushed himself up to sit. He was quite the sight shirtless, much more muscular than before. The soft blue fabric wrapping around his left side and over his shoulder complimented his skin perfectly.

“Fucking goats” he complained as he threw the deep red fabric over his body, doing as much as he could with one arm before shifting to her for help.

Her fingers moved expertly over the fabric as they did every day, fastening it to his body before pulling half of his long hair into a bun.

“Love you” Her breath blew between his shoulder blades, her lips pressing into the nape of his neck as she wrapped the thin belt around his waist from behind— she’d become so familiar with the routine she could secure it with her eyes shut. He couldn’t help the way his worries fell apart at her soft touch.

His body twisted to face her naked one, his right hand finding her left, squeezing tight before dropping his fingers to roll the thin gold band around her ring finger; a symbol of his promise fulfilled. The matching one secured around his neck.

Steel blues ran up from their joined hand to her face, searching for her own eyes, asking in silence for permission that she was glad to give him as she leaned forward locking their lips together in a sultry dance that mimicked one of the many they shared all those years ago.

“Bahhhhh” he growled into the kiss and she couldn’t help the bubble of laughter rising from her throat. He’d never get a moment's peace with his girl with those beasts around.

Tags: @matchat3a

#bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #marvel #mcu bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #the winter soldier #winter soldier #winter solider x reader

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myhairpintrigger · 1 year

Note

hi hi hi i would like to request fluff for thee one and only Aleksander where reader gets really sick maybe a very high fever and maybe he panicked and called heartrenders and healers because he thought she might die and it ends all fluffy and soft Aleksander 😶‍🌫️

soft Aleksander yes pls <3 I love.

warnings: none, mostly angst and some fluff

word count: 2.3k

Just a Cough

(aleksander morozova x fem!reader)

It all started with a cough. A silly little harmless cough, of which you assured Aleksander after a few days of the persistent cough that there was nothing to worry about. Being sick was just a part of life for you, but apparently according to your loving husband, it wasn’t for him. In fact, upon asking him, the stoic faced general had stated that he’d never been sick in his entire life, and come to think of it, in your four year long marriage, you hadn’t seen him sick even once. He promptly thereafter reminded you that Grisha do not get sick as you did and you accepted this answer.

It was just a cough.

That’s what you kept insisting, even after it had been weeks. Though he’d never been sick, Aleksander was no stranger to illness, and stopped believing that it was only a cough. Just like clockwork, the second he began to suspect it was a bit more serious than you’d been insisting, you got worse.

Soon you were hardly able to keep food down, dizzy when you stood, the cough had gotten worse, and every night you’d run fevers. He brought you medicines given to him by the Royal Family, had doctors see you, and nothing was working.

He hardly left your side, and when he did, someone was always there to keep an eye on you, and though you swore it wasn't necessary, his response was always the same:

“You are only mortal, my love. I will not take risks.”

So here you lay, on your marvelous four-poster bed while a young Grisha healer sat at your bedside, flipping idly through a book, glancing up at you every so often to make sure you were okay before she’d go back to her reading. A tap on the door pulled you out of your sick haze and your eyes fell upon Genya as she walked into the room.

“You may leave. I can keep watch on The General’s wife.” she spoke to the girl next to your bedside, and the girl wasted no time in getting up and scurrying out.

You let out a miserable sigh and placed your hand over your eyes to shield the light, much preferring the company of your husband, “Oh, my. Is he almost done with whatever he’s doing? I need him to block the light.” you rasped and Genya only laughed and stood in the doorway.

“He cannot be too much longer, y/n.” she replied and you groaned.

“What did the Heartrender say?” you asked and opened your eyes to look up at Genya hopefully.

The red haired girl wandered over to your side and checked your temperature with the back of her hand, letting out a sigh of displeasure, “Well, she couldn’t deduce much except for that your heart is healthy, which is good. Your husband has ordered for one of our best healers to be removed from the frontlines and brought here to help. You're getting hotter, by the way.” she said with a frown.

“Genya, the last three healers haven’t made any progress.” you stated fearfully and she responded to you with nothing but silence and she grabbed the cool, damp cloth off of your nightstand that had been left there by the girl previous. She laid the cloth on your forehead and finally gave a sigh.

“We have very limited knowledge on what is ailing you. If a doctor couldn’t find a conclusion then it is very hard for us to know what to heal.” she explained in a gentle tone, “have you had any water today? Aleksander won’t be pleased if you haven’t.” she said quietly and you simply pulled the covers over your head and let out a terrible, wheezing cough.

Tears fearfully made their way into your eyes and you shook your head, though the Tailor could not see you, “I just want Aleksander.” you whimpered through a wheeze, your throat burning terribly with every word. You hadn’t even known Genya had left until you lifted the blanket and poked your head out to see why it had fallen so silent and you looked around the empty room and let out a painful sob.

You buried your face in your frail hands and let out hoarse cries until you felt the bed dip next to you, prompting you to wipe your eyes with the heels of your hands and you lifted your head to see your husband sitting at your side, his face completely colorless as he looked over you. You weakly sat up and pushed yourself into his lap with whatever strength you could muster, which must not have been much because you found yourself being easily lifted by Aleksander and pulled into his lap. You laid your head on his collarbone and you let out a shaky breath and you weakly grabbed onto the lapels of his kefta.

“Am I going to die?” you asked suddenly, the question that had been plaguing your mind for weeks now, the question that you were too afraid to speak out loud. The question both of you were asking silently. The question that made Aleksander kiss you on the forehead every time he left the room, that made him hold you a little bit tighter every chance he got, that had him terrified for perhaps only the second time in his life. The question that made him fear leaving your side, afraid to return to a lifeless form in his bed.

He didn’t answer right away, but the stiffness in his voice gave away everything he must have been thinking, “You are mortal.” was all he said before he tightened his arms around you, being careful not to hurt you in your fragile state.

His reply only caused you to cry again, and this time you could feel him crying with you. You didn’t see his face nor did you hear him; you didn’t have to. His shaking shoulders told you enough. He brought his cold hand up to your forehead and he held it there, occasionally swiping his thumb across one of your temples. To even meet the possibility of your death this soon was frightening and angering to Aleksander, and it had been the cause of several outbursts of anger in nights past in rooms far from your shared bedroom, to ears far from yours. He wasn’t supposed to be the one that was scared here, he was supposed to be the strong one that had the solutions. The answers. His highest obligation to you was to protect you at all times, defend you, his mortal, very breakable, wife. But there was no enemy to fight, no weapon to use to defend you. There was just you. Poor, sick, miserable little you, and this killed him. He lost sleep to this, he lost his appetite to this, and he was certain that if he was to lose you to this, he’d lose his mind, too.

“Aleksander, everything hurts.” you whispered, your voice hardly going higher than that. He grit his teeth angrily and simply pulled you closer, shushing you. He wasn’t good with comforting. His words weren’t often gentle unless directed at you, and it wouldn’t matter anyway. Words were completely lost on him as he sat in paralyzing fear that he could very well lose you to illness.

He finally found the voice he’d been chasing around his throat and he reached up to soothingly pet your hair, “Oh, my darling, you must get some sleep. You aren’t going to die,” he promised, though he was beginning to fear he could not see to that promise being kept, “We have a healer coming for you, my little angel. I’d never let you succumb to whatever this illness may be.” he said hollowly, almost wincing when the little voice in his head told him not to make promises he couldn’t keep. Losing you meant losing a vital piece of himself.

“It’s punishment, Aleksander. There is nothing you can do.” his mother had drawled when he had come to her practically on his knees, begging for a way to save his wife.

“Do you really think the fates would allow you to be happy after all you have done? You should have left her alone, now she is paying for your sins as well, there’s no one to blame except for you.” she had said coldly, leaving Aleksander with a guilt that had taken him days to even partially recover from. He’d deny it to the haggard old woman’s face but deep down he agreed.

Lost in thought, he barely noticed that the stroking of your hair had lulled you into sleep, and your sudden stillness caused him to panic as he quickly laid his hand over your chest, only to feel relief wash upon him like a million crashing waves when he felt the shallow rise and fall of your chest. He finally willed himself to gaze down upon your sunken face and he traced his fingertips over your now very prominent cheekbones and jawline, and his lips turned downwards. You, his wife, the only light in his shadowy life, lay so lifelessly on his lap. He couldn’t help but think of the sick irony of it all, how he’d considered you his light when he himself could only summon the dark. The irony wasn’t lost on him at all there, bitterly so. A small tap on the doorframe made him slowly tear his eyes away from you and he raised one eyebrow at David who stood there awkwardly.

“I hope you have a very groundbreaking reason to be here interrupting the time I am spending with my wife.” Aleksander said in a clipped tone and David simply nodded once.

“The healer has arrived. He’d like to see her.” he answered, causing Aleksander to sigh once.

“David, three Healers and every Heartrender under my roof couldn’t even cure her. We need to start focusing on alternative methods to keep her alive. By any means possible.” he said lowly and the man at the door only nodded again, “but please,” Aleksander added, “bring the healer to me. Let us see what he can do for my y/n.” he conceded.

David motioned to someone who must have been just past the doorframe down the hall and a tall man walked into the room and looked down at the vulnerable, sickly form of The General’s wife laying in her husband’s lap, “Sir, this is the most experienced and talented healer we could find, he has the most experience in-”

“Can you help her?” Aleksander snapped, cutting David off.

The healer didn’t answer but rather walked towards the two of them on the bed and he placed his hands on either side of your head, and the new contact had your eyes snapping open instantly with panic. Your husband gently tightened his grip around you and informed you softly that it was only a healer, and you relaxed a bit and closed your eyes again, a ragged breath being drawn from your lips.

In reality the healer only had his hands upon your head for five minutes, but it felt like hours to your fear-stricken husband who watched the display before him desperately. Finally, the healer took his hands off of you and he reached up to feel your forehead before he looked up at your husband and nodded, “The fever has broken. Give her two or three days to fully recover, but she will not grow any sicker, and she certainly will not perish.”

Aleksander looked down at you with wide eyes and then back at the healer, “Why won’t she open her eyes?” he asked worriedly, his eyes threatening to water.

The healer chuckled and stood up straight, “She’s exhausted, General Kirigan. I put her to sleep. But make no mistake- she is healed.”

Aleksander’s lips moved but no sounds came out, so he settled for a stunned nod, and the healer gave him a slight smile before he headed out of the bedroom, followed by David. Your husband reached up promptly to feel your head, the past five minutes seeming entirely too good to be real, and he expected to feel your feverish skin. Instead, he was met with the completely normal temperature of your skin as you slept against him. He sucked in a shaky breath and leaned down to press a lingering kiss to your now cooled forehead and he stayed with you like that for a long time before he lifted his head. He swaddled your small form in a blanket and he sat with you just like that in his lap for hours, and he’d stay there for as long as he needed to.

When you finally woke some hours later, the first thing you noticed was that there was no searing pain behind your eyes any longer, and you looked up to see the face of your husband staring back down at you, his eyes misty and full of feelings you were sure he likely didn't have the words for.

"You look like hell." you commented with a short laugh and Aleksander rolled his eyes and pulled you up against his chest tightly, and you laid your ear over his heart, listening to it beat steadily.

"I was certain I was going to lose you." he said finally, his voice full of what you recognised to be pain.

"But you didn't."

"But I could have." he countered and buried his face in your hair, "And what then? What would I have done then?" he asked demandingly and you frowned, his disdain making your heart ache.

"Well, then I suppose you're just going to have to find a way to make sure that we never have to fear that again, won't you?" you asked, and he thought about it for a moment before he shrugged and tucked your head underneath his bearded chin.

"Yes. Yes, I suppose I will."

And in the silence of your shared bedroom he swore that no matter the cost, he’d find a cure for your mortality, a way to keep you alive for just as long as he.

#general kirigan imagine #aleksander morozova x reader #general kirigan x reader #the darkling x reader #general kirigan #aleksander morozova imagine #aleksander morozova #the darkling #the darkling imagine #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone #grishaverse

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silky-nereid · 3 months

Text

— a family friend

tw : death, attempted of an elopement.

Yandere!noble friend x friend!reader/you

Yandere! Noble friend who is your best friend and always had her eyes on you but bitterly watches when you get betrothed to a Count that held a small footing in the higher elite class.

Yandere! Noble friend who is heavily yearning for your appearance during noble parties, just to see you since she hardly saw you after your marriage.

Yandere! Noble friend who notices the sudden behavioral change in you and the tiredness etched in your eyes. She questions it but you brush it off.

“Are you truly alright, dear?” she asked.

“Swimmingly well,” you responded. “Why do you ask?”

“You look tired,” she responded.

“Just…It’s difficult.” You smiled at her. “I heard about the courting of a noble for you. I never expected for you to get courted that quickly.”

She looked away, a champagne flute glimmered in the yellowed light of the candles from the chandelier. A smile remained on her lips, slipping on the champagne and looking back to you who wasn’t there anymore rather seemingly pulled back into the arms of your spouse and lost in the crowd of aristocrats.

Yandere! Noble friend who somehow loses contact with you and desperately tries to write to you but the letters always get sent back and she’s utterly distraught as her spouse notices her behavior and tries to comfort her but can’t since she only wants you and nobody else.

Yandere! Noble friend who is trapped in a loveless marriage with a sole heir but the color is seemingly brought back into her life when she sees you again, time hadn’t been kind to you but you still held a respectable title and still looked ever so lovely from afar; swooning again.

Yandere! Noble friend who heard about your niece’s arrival to your house and her betrothal to the prince but days later, the prince’s farewell ceremony to go to the unfortunate frontlines. She watches your tearful eyes, saying that your spouse will return despite her hoping that they don’t.

Her eyes scanned the study floor filled with crumpled pages of failures. Polished shoes clicked on the floor, it was a servant holding a letter on a silver platter.

“A letter—“ they said.

It was you, disheveled and hands trembling, the fresh fallen snow clung to your cloak. Had something happened to you? She got up from sitting in her cushioned chair which you paced, nails cut and bloodied.

“We—I need your help,” you said. “My friend, please help me. I’m in need of your services.”

Her warm hands grabbed your cold, bloodied hands and looked at you with concern.

“What happened?” She asked.

“She’s let down the family!” you cried, “She has broken her betrothal to the prince and tried to elope!”

“Who has she tried to elope with?” she questioned. “Doesn’t this girl understand what would happen if the prince agrees to breaking the betrothal as well?”

“Adrian Wells.” You pulled away from her. “I…I will lose everything. Please I beg of you to find him and speak to him, your brother in law about this or…or I will never speak to you again.”

Yandere! Noble friend who flips the world on its head to find him because she can’t risk losing you again which she does end up finding him. After a little roughhousing, she manages to get him out of the country to somewhere safe.

Yandere! Noble friend who comforts you despite hearing the arrival of the soldiers coming home but how deeply she wishes to replace your spouse and wants to hold you in her arms. She smiles internally when you come to her arms, sobbing about the demise of your spouse; it was a pure gift to her.

Yandere! Noble friend who continues to comfort you and spends more time with you than her actual family. She holds you and lets you cry in her arms while she reassures you that she’ll always be there for you.

She looked down at the fresh pile of dirt that held her spouse who recently died from an illness. Dressed in black, the veil covered her face and she wiped away the tears from her face with a handkerchief. She held your trembling gloved hand, her thumb rubbed your knuckles and she looked at you.

“Come, my dear,” she whispered. “We must return back home and our child is awaiting our return.”

She entered the carriage and helped you in closing the carriage window, she pulled back her black veil.

“Shouldn’t your son be present during this?” You asked. “It wasn’t right to come here without him.”

“Our son dear,” she added, “it would be meaningless because he’s too young to remember them. You would be a perfect fit to parent him with me.”

“I…I,” you stammered. “Please don’t make me, Evangeline. I can’t—“

“I know you can,” she said. “Let me into your heart, my dear. You have done it so many times with them, why am I so different?”

Yandere! Noble friend who after a few days and she has you move in with her since she knows how lonely it is since the servants hardly ever appear.

Yandere! Noble friend who starts being more of a prevalent parent with you by her side. She begrudgingly wears her mourning clothes to events and smiles when you wear yours as she has on occasions custom ordered matching mourning clothes for you and her.

Yandere! Noble friend who occasionally forgets that you did love your spouse to a degree since she wants to be the only person in your heart.

Her hands rested on your shoulders, both of you were in your nightwear. You had taken refuge by sitting on the new vanity chair that she had brought you days prior, your forehead rested on the wood. She stood behind you, hair tucked back into a loose braid with a light familiar smile on her lips.

“You have been like this for a while, my dear,” she said. “Tell me what’s wrong? I can help you get better.”

“I don’t think that I can do this, Evangeline,” you said. “I…please.”

“I saw you eyeing a specific spot yesterday,” she said. “Would you like that we have a walk tomorrow and we could bring our son too?”

You looked up at her from the vanity mirror, her eyes stared down at your scalp then to the mirror; still smiling.

“I..I would like that,” you said.

“Excellent,” she replied, “now come on, let’s go to bed. Tomorrow is going to be wonderful.”

#yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere prompt #yandere x you #tw yandere #yandere idea #yandere imagines #yandere fanfiction #yandere fic #yandere female x reader #tw death #tw forced parenthood #yandere oc x you #yandere evangeline x reader

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genshingorlsrevengeance · 20 days

Text

(Genshin Impact/GFL/GG:ST) "Pocky Game with their S/O"

Genshin Impact: Navia, Lynette, Eula, Lisa Girls' Frontline: AN-94, AK-12, WA2000, SPAS-12, Helianthus Guilty Gear Strive: Elphelt Valentine

No one requested this, just ate some pocky and the idea came to mind.

(Navia) "Oh? Sounds fun, let's try it!"

Navia cheekily grabs the pocky and puts it in her mouth, extending the stick towards her S/O expectantly.

One of the rules of the game that intrigued her was that you weren't allowed to look away from your partner.

Something Navia has no problem with, as she stares into their eyes.

Her lips form into a smile with each nibble, before she ends up grabbing S/O's face and kissing them anyway once the stick becomes short enough.

(Navia) "Huh? We lost? Hm...Well, we can always just try again!~"

Lynette questions why this game exists.

Why was eating chocolate a game? Isn't it just better to eat the pocky directly?

Well, whatever. If S/O wanted to try it, she can at least give it a shot.

Lynette fidgets a little as they make direct eye contact with each other, slowly taking away a piece of the pocky with each bite.

Right before their lips make contact, she pulls away, a little proud at the short length of the cookie.

(Lynette) "Hm. We did a pretty good job, considering."

She gives a slight smirk to them before resuming her important task at hand: spacing out and mindlessly munching on some cookies the proper way.

Eula's eyes widen slightly before she makes a "hmph!"

(Eula) "As if a simple game like this would be enough to make me falter."

Spoilers: It was.

Eula's cheeks are a crimson hue the entire time, her eyes constantly looking everywhere except S/O.

And already failing the game.

(Eula) "Just, give me a moment to compose myself! The chocolate has a strange taste is all..."

Her heart is beating fast the entire time as their lips grow closer.

It doesn't matter if they were already a couple or if they already kissed, Eula would still be extremely flustered.

(Lisa) "Hm, I think I like the sound of this game."

Lisa has no trouble at all putting the chocolate end into her mouth, waiting for S/O.

Instead of taking nibbles, she takes a massive bite, already being a few inches from their lips.

Still keeping eye contact, she gives them a wink, making S/O falter before she simply bites down completely and breaks the pocky.

(Lisa) "Oh, looks like I lost. Here, grab another one, I want a rematch.~"

It's clear that she does so on purpose, just simply enjoying S/O's reactions. Part of her wants to kiss them directly, but where's the fun in that?

This game made things a lot more fun!

Plus, it was a pretty cute idea.

(AN-94) "There is a game with candy?...I will attempt it for you."

94 is confused, but goes along with S/O's request.

She puts the pocky into her mouth and doesn't even blink as she stares into S/O, calculating how many bites it would take to not make contact with their lips.

94 doesn't react until S/O kisses her, making her eyes widen in surprise.

Not that she hated the sweets or S/O kissing her, but she tilted her head in confusion at their reaction.

(AN-94) "May I ask what the purpose of this game is?...It is for lovers to bond?...Then, I request that we continue playing."

AK-12's eyes remain close, but her eyebrows perk up in curiousity.

(AK-12) "Sure, we can play. I'll take the chocolate end."

She waits until S/O grabs the other end with their lips.

Her eyes finally open as her pink glowing eyes stare directly into them, smile still present and making them pause.

Before she just grabs the pocky with her hand and just kisses S/O full on the lips.

(AK-12) "Mmm~, tastes sweet. Oh, right, I failed the game. Let's try it again."

She would "accidentally" fail a couple more times just to see what kind of reactions S/O made.

WA's normal frown completely vanishes the moment S/O brought up the pocky game to her.

Instead, replaced with a surprised and embarassed expression.

(WA2000) "Wha-Why do you not just eat the cookies normally, are you a child or something!?"

WA begrudgingly (not really) accepts S/O's proposal to play the game and is shutting her eyes, before hearing their laughter.

(WA2000) "I'm not supposed to close my eyes? What does it matter, we're still eating the damn thing!"

The entire time, WA2000 is trying her best to look angry and unaffected, but is failing miserably.

After a few kisses, WA just sighs when she sees S/O's happy expression.

(WA2000) "...Yeah, the pocky tasted fine, now wipe that stupid smirk off your face..."

(SPAS-12) "OH! I love pocky!"

SPAS happily starts munching on the cookies before S/O stops her and tells her about the game.

(SPAS-12) "You wanna use this for a game? Oooooh, okay! That explains why there's a lot of boxes!"

Truthfully, S/O bought multiple boxes because they knew SPAS would just start eating without listening first. They were more for emergencies.

Regardless, SPAS gets a little flustered as she stares directly at S/O, and takes massive bites because she gets distracted by the taste of the pocky.

(SPAS) "Mmmm, chocolatey!...Huh?! I lost?! T-Try me again, I won't lose!"

She loses every single time. Her love for food seals her fate every single time.

(Helianthus) "Pocky game? Do I really seem that young to you...?"

Before S/O could retract their pocky, Helian immediately starts backtracking.

(Helianthus) "H-HANG ON! I DIDN'T SAY I WOULDN'T PLAY!"

If anything, Helain is flattered that S/O wanted to play this game with her, despite her usual stoic demeanor.

Helian has a hard time keeping eye contact, but tries to tough it out.

She fails at not having their lips connect, but it's not a failure she exactly minds.

Helian gets carried away in the moment, forgetting the original purpose of the game and instead just focuses on kissing her S/O.

Before tasting the chocolate in their mouth and quickly leaning back.

(Helianthus) A-AHEM! "I...suppose we failed the challenge..."

Before S/O could even finish proposing the idea to Elphelt-

(Elphelt) "YES! Gimme that pocky!"

With zero hesitation she immediately puts the pocky in her lips, excitedly leaning into S/O with bright eyes.

She kicks the challenge up a notch, by having her hands latch onto S/O's, giggling all the while as she took each bite and savoring the bite and sight.

Elphelt fails the challenge in multiple ways, mostly just by how giddy she is during it.

Accidentally biting too hard, kissing S/O, letting go of the cookie, each result makes her pout and slightly blush.

(Elphelt) "Wha-OH COME ON! I didn't even bite that hard! Hand me another one!"

Elphelt loves playing this pocky game with S/O.

She always had these cookies around due to her love for sweets, but this was the first time they've been used for something this fun!

(Elphelt) "Another one!...We're out? Alright, fine! Lemme grab another box and we can try this again later, I will win!"

S/O at the end of each session has a lot of lipstick, chocolate, and cookie crumbs on their lips.

247 notes · View notes

marwritesgood · 10 months

Text

Hide and Seek | S. Harrington

Pairing: Steve x Hopper!Reader

Timeframe: Season 5

Summary: It's time to take down Vecna once and for all and, much to Steve's protests, Y/n puts herself on the frontline.

warning description of violence and injury

PREVIOUS PART

series masterlist // main masterlist

a/n: and we're back to the main storyline :) this part was not initially planned, but it felt awkward moving forward without addressing what goes down during the big battle with Vecna! hope you enjoy :)

September 21st, 1978

Y/n sat at the kitchen table quietly, stewing in her nervousness as she waited for her mom to explain further. She had called her eldest to sit with her, which wasn't what made Y/n anxious. It was when her mom called her by her full name. That was never a good sign.

From underneath the table they sat at, Y/n's mom held up her daughter's school bag, unzipped it and pulled out a sheet of paper. Y/n hung her head, cursing herself for not just throwing it in the bin like she initially contemplated doing. Seeing her reaction, Y/n's mom softened her gaze.

“Why didn’t you tell me there was a school trip coming up?”

She could not understand it. Y/n was not the type to hide things from her mom, nor was she the type to pass up an overnight school field trip.

Y/n locked eyes with her mom for a short moment before averting them quickly. Her face was burning up from the embarrassment. She never meant for her little white lie to turn into a whole thing.

“I forgot.”

“Y/n, don’t lie to me.”

The young girl hung her head once more.

“There’s a fee. I didn’t know if we could afford to…”

She couldn't bring herself to finish her sentence. Not after the sharp inhale her mother took almost immediately. Y/n glanced up at her momentarily. She had seen her mother do a heck of a lot of crying over the last few months, but never like that, and never over her.

The older woman rose from her chair and sped around the table, pulling her daughter into her embrace.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n,” she said softly, before finally pulling away. “I know your dad and I have been fighting a lot, and constantly going back and forth about Sara, instead of making sure we were looking after you.”

“I get it, mom,” Y/n whispered.

Her mother felt her stomach drop further. This was the last thing she wanted for Y/n. Her sweet, vibrant Y/n who had gotten far too good at and far too accustomed to pulling a brave face. The older woman lifted her hands to the sides of her daughter’s face and frowned regretfully.

“We’ll do better, I promise,” she said before glancing back down at the sheet of paper on the kitchen table and taking it in her hand once more. “Starting with this field trip, because there’s no way you’re missing out.”

“Mom, you don’t have to-“

Y/n’s eyes widened as her mom held her hand up, stopping her from saying anything further. She pursed her lips tightly, giving the field trip handout a onceover before looking her daughter dead in the eye.

“I’m the mom, you’re the kid, ok?” She snapped, her voice filling the room to the brim, startling Y/n at first and then filling her with relief. She nodded.

The entire time Sara had been sick, nurses and doctors and family friends were commenting on how strong and mature her big sister was, shouldering extra responsibilities to help out her parents and spending all her free time with Sara all while keeping her grades up at school. Y/n never wanted to be strong and mature, but by the way everyone spoke about her, it was obvious that’s what everyone needed her to be.

Y/n’s mother sighed. The fees and the finer details were not to be any of Y/n’s business, she declared to herself. That was hers and Hopper’s. All she wanted from Y/n was a simple answer, and then she would move however many mountains necessary to make it work. The woman gazed intently at her daughter.

“You wanna go on this trip?”

Y/n opened her louth and hesitated for a moment before answering in a hushed tone, “I-I do.”

Her mom nodded once and looked at the handout yet again, her eyes searching for the information on the fee. It would be a stretch, but the woman’s mind was already decided. One of her girls was going to have some semblance of a nice year if it was the last she did.

“I’ll talk to dad. We’ll make it happen.”

Y/n blinked, dumbfounded. It was that simple? She had spent weeks analysing every sentence on the hand out, contemplating if the trip was even worth bringing up to her parents and contemplating ways she could come up with the money herself.

In one conversation, her mom had fixed it all for her.

The young girl was grinning ear to her. With glossy eyes she stepped forward and hugged her mother tightly. It was a small but immensely meaningful win for her, and she needed her mom to know that.

“Thank you.”

The woman felt her breath hitch. After several months of hell, a thank and a hug from a happy daughter was more than she could have asked for. She kissed the top of Y/n’s head and hugged her just as tightly, with no intention of letting go until she did first.

***

November 27th, 1984

Y/n needed a second to breathe. She left Steve with the kids for a few minutes so she could lock the backdoor and the windows, but she found herself standing in the hallway and catching her breath.

When Y/n finally made her way back to the living room, she did so slowly, puzzled by the gruff voice coming from the living room where the kids were. She could only just make out the words being spoken.

“You know what happens when I get angry, Max. I break things."

Her stomach turned as realisation hit and she raced towards the sound of the kids screaming. Billy Hargrove was yet again causing trouble. By the time Y/n reached the living room, he had already broken one of Joyce’s plates and held a petrified little Lucas against the wall by his shirt.

Instantly fuming, Y/n made her way towards him with clenched fists, her thumbs tucked in just as she had been taught by her old man.

“Hey asshole,” she shouted, pulling Billy back by his shoulder as hard as she could. Once he let go of Lucas and turned to Y/n, she swung her right fist with all her might and aimed right for his stupid face.

Billy doubled back, lifting his hand to his nose and kissing his teeth when he saw blood on his fingertips.

“Yeah, kick his ass Y/n!” The kids were cheering from the corner of the room, making Y/n forget about the pain in her hand, but only just for a moment. Billy laughed dryly.

“You know, I’m getting real sick of you butting your nose into my business,” he hissed, starting to get the impression she was more than just an old babysitter to the little boys who kept hanging around Max. “Just ‘cause your dad’s the stupid police chief, doesn’t mean you run this town.”

Y/n furrowed her brows, resenting being referred to nothing but the chief’s daughter, even moreso from a dingus like him. He inched forward, trying to intimidate her, but Y/n straightened her back and planted her feet.

“Just shut up and go pick on someone your own size, Billy,” she spat, still fuming. It was bad enough he had a habit of beating up unsuspecting freshman at school, now he was terrorising her kids.

Billy kept moving closer to her, the crease between his brows remaining steady, and it started to dawn on Y/n that if he had no issue with hitting a kid as sweet as Lucas, there was very little chance he would have an issue with beating her up. Her feet shifted backwards ever so slightly, and Billy took immediate notice of it. He smirked.

“Already did,” he taunted, nodding his head towards the window facing the front yard. “Didn’t you see your little boyfriend on the ground outside?”

Y/n was swinging her fist again before it could even register, but unfortunately Billy caught it before another blow could be made to his face. Just as his lips instinctively curved into what Y/n knew would be another infuriating smirk, Y/n jolted her foot upwards until it came to a sudden and aggressive collision with his groin.

Billy doubled back yet again, wincing momentarily and then donning an expression far more sinister. He recovered his stance in a seconds and was glaring daggers at Y/n, completely fed up.

“Oh, you are so dead,” he growled, moving forward with his hands balled up and winding back ready to swing. If he was holding back before, he clearly did not plan to anymore. Y/n stumbled backwards. Before she could remember to tuck her thumbs, a pair of strong arms pulled her out of the way.

“No you are.”

Steve, bloody nose and all, caught Billy’s fist mid-swing and sucker-punched the left side of his face before he could see it coming. Instinctively, Y/n lunged forward and reached for her boyfriend, startled by the injuries already evident on his face.

“Steve!”

While relieved Billy didn’t get the chance to punch her, Y/n did not have time to feel grateful for Steve’s impeccable timing, nor did she have time to watch him get into fight with Billy Hargrove.

Her fingers barely grazed her boyfriends arm before he was following Billy. Y/n stepped back and signalled for the kids to stay out of the way. She knew Steve had had a bone to pick with him ever since he got to Hawkins, so there was no telling where things would go, but something told Y/n it was gonna get ugly. Billy began laughing maniacally, clapping his hands sarcastically before shoving Steve back.

“So you do have a bit of fire in you,” he chuckled. “You know, I’ve been waiting to see the King Steve everyone’s been talking about.”

“Just leave,” Steve hissed, shoving him back just as hard. Billy’s smirk never faltered, despite losing his footing for a split second. Instead, he stood tall and inched forward again, narrowing his eyes at Steve tauntingly, as if testing to see what would set him off.

“Didn’t realise all I had to do was go after his bitch-“

Y/n inhaled sharply. Before Billy could get another word out, Steve was jabbing his face and his torso repeatedly. He could tolerate Billy poking fun at him, but not at Y/n. Never at her.

The kids were back to cheering again, and Y/n was grasping at straws trying to de-escalate, before one of them ended up seriously hurt. Sure, maybe she thought Billy deserved a few sucker-punches to the face, and maybe she didn’t mind if Steve was the one handing them out, but there was a bigger battle at hand and time was not on their side.

The two of them brought their fight into Joyce’s kitchen, where Billy took a plate and smashed it against Steve’s head, giving him the upper hand. Y/n muffled a shriek behind her hand and decided it was time to step in. Billy showed no evident intention of slowing down anytime soon, even with Steve on the floor and him towering over. Y/n sped forward and tried to pull him back like she had done before.

“Billy, get the hell off him!”

Steve was already losing consciousness, but Billy just kept going. Y/n tried to get a good grasp of his arm to yank him back, but he was moving too quickly. He swung his fist back just as Y/n leaned forward again, hitting her in between her eyes and sending her backwards.

“Uhh-“ she groaned as she tried to regain focus. Her ears were ringing and her vision was beginning to blur. The last she remembered was seeing Max’s faint figure come marching in wielding something. Then she lost consciousness for a few minutes.

When Y/n finally did begin to see and hear things clearly, Max had a strange bat in her hands and Billy was lying on the floor with a needle sticking out of the side of his neck.

***

March 31st, 1986

The days following Vecna’s attack on Y/n came by like a series of punches, not giving anyone a chance to recover. From kissing Steve in his bedroom, helping Eddie evade an angry mob and then helping Steve and the kids lie to the police about why they were all at lover’s lake in the middle of the night. Y/n could not wait to have a good night’s sleep again.

Unfortunately, the end was nowhere in sight. Everyone gathered around Nancy in Eddie’s living room as she explained what she saw— what Vecna showed her before she and Robin could leave the upside down. Almost immediately afterwards, a few of them started to discuss what to do next. Y/n, on the other hand, could only think about El.

She left to call the Byers’ house phone, but after twenty minutes of nothing, Y/n started to fear for the worst. She came back to the living room just as Dustin came up with a bright idea about thinking Vecna and his powers as another version of El’s.

“That all sounds great in theory, but we don’t even know when he’s going to attack next,” Robin argued, “we don’t even know who he’s gonna attack next.”

Y/n's breath hitched. Suddenly it was beginning to make sense why she still did not feel like herself again. Though she was definitely much happier than she was when Vecna was first targeting her, she could not definitively say her symptoms were completely gone.

“Yeah we do,” she said, looking up and seeing everyone's eyes glued on hers. Y/n had become accustomed to their worried expressions since recovering from Vecna. She knew they were going to be on the fence on what she was about to propose, one of them in particular

“I can still feel him," Y/n clarified before clearing her throat. "I think… I think I’m still a target. Still cursed.”

The room was silent. Everyone exchanged looks with each other. Everyone but Steve, whose attention never left Y/n. She couldn't be serious, he thought. But she was. If she wasn't before, she was now that she knew El might be involved.

“So, maybe I ditch the Bee Gees. I draw his focus back to me... and I keep him busy long enough so that you guys can get into that attic," she proposed. “Then you can chop his head off… or stab him- I don't know.”

Y/n shrugged her shoulder and finally looked up, meeting everyone's intense gaze. If she was going to do this, it meant they would have only a small window to do what was needed, to kill the son of a bitch once and for all.

“Just try not to miss.”

Steve furrowed his brows. His frustration grew as he looked around and saw everyone seemingly accept that as the official plan. Like there was nothing alarming about sacrificing his girlfriend to Vecna.

“Woah, hold on, time out," he scoffed, walking towards Y/n and taking hold of her hand, pulling her into the kitchen and out of earshot from the other. Y/n sighed, knowing any lecture he was about to give her would be in vain.

“Steve, don’t try to talk me out of this-“

He narrowed his eyes at her incredulously.

“What, so I should just let you get yourself killed?!”

“I’ve dealt with him before,” Y/n pointed out.

“And you were this close to dying,” he argued, holding his index finger and thumb up to show just how narrowly she escaped the same fate as Chrissy and Fred.

“But I’m not dead! I survived that, I can survive this too.”

She had to tell herself that. She had to force herself to believe it too. If not for her own sake, then for the sake of her loved ones, both in and out of Hawkins. The crease between Steve's brows persisted, and Y/n knew she had to get him on board.

“No one in California is picking up the phone. I’ve rang about 5 times already,” she explained shakily. “I have this… this gut feeling that they’re in trouble. And if Nancy’s right-“

“And what if she’s wrong?” Steve questioned, knowing he would never be able to live with himself if Y/n got hurt or died unnecessarily.

“But what if she’s right, Steve?” Y/n sniffled, her eyes brimming with tears. She was not happy about it either— far from it actually, but what other option was there? She pressed further. “I mean, what if me doing this is our best chance at putting an end to all of this?— An end to Vecna?”

He paused for a moment and realised she was right. If they didn’t go after Vecna with their best foot forward, there was no telling where things would go or how many more people he would hurt.

Even so, he still couldn’t bring himself to be ok with it. Steve wanted to find another, any other course of action that didn’t involve putting Y/n’s life in the palm of Vecna’s hands again. He knew his reasoning was selfish, but to hell with it.

“I just got you back, Y/n.”

Y/n sighed, her shoulders slumping and lips pursing to form a frown. A lump formed in the back of her throat as it dawned on her what he meant. She did not just come back from the clutches of Vecna, she came back to Steve and they found their way back to each other. Inching closer to him, Y/n placed her hands against the sides of Steve’s face.

“And I’m not going anywhere,” she murmured reassuringly, before dropping her hands and weaving her fingers with his. “This time is different. We have the upper hand, because I know Vecna’s moves.”

“You do?”

He studied her closely as he traced circles with his thumb against the back of her hand. She shuffled even closer until their hips met and nodded her head.

“I think so,” she answered quietly, thinking back to how she escaped Vecna before, a memory still vivid in her mind. “It’s like he uses my memories— my really bad ones, to make me vulnerable and easier for him to attack.”

It started when she was looking back at the cabin, she remembered. Then she saw her dad and everything got worse. Y/n tried not to reminisce for too long. That wound was still fresh.

“Oh,” Steve muttered beneath his breath before letting out a defeated exhaled. He hated that Y/n went through that, knowing just how bad things were and everything she had been through. He couldn’t stomach the thought of her going through it again just to stall Vecna.

“But when I survived the last time it wasnt just because I heard the song, but because I thought about good memories,” Y/n explained, smiling weakly, knowing that pulling a brave face would be in the best interest. Luckily, she had years of practise doing just that. “Shouldn’t be too hard to do again.”

“What if he does something unexpected?”

“I just think of a really good memory.”

Thankfully, she had a good number of those. Some with her mom and Sara, a lot with El, but most were with Steve. Her eyes locked with his and, without saying it aloud, Y/n knew it was mutually understood.

“But, even if something goes wrong, I’m not worried, because…”

Her eyes never left his. Y/n knew Steve was running out of reasons to be against it, but she also knew that no matter how much of a fight he put up, if she was going to through with being Vecna bait, Steve was going to be right there with her.

“I know you’re not gonna let anything happen to me.”

All she had to worry about was what would happen in her mind nad in Vecna’s territory. She knew Steve would keep her safe in the real world until she was back.

He gave it another moment’s deliberation. In a perfect world, it would not have come down to this, but there was clearly nothing he was going to be able to do to change her mind. Steve sighed.

“Ok.”

Y/n smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. He pulled her closer to him and took the time to appreciate it all— the feeling of her waist beneath his fingertips, her head against the crook of his neck and the smell of her perfume.

He knew it before and he knew it then. Whatever trouble she found herself in, he was always going to be at her side.

***

April 2nd, 1986 - 6PM

Y/n tested her flashlight a couple times against the doors to the Creel house and then turned back to the the other three. The plan was for her and Steve to lure Vecna out by going inside what was apparently his childhood home, with Erica and Max keeping an eye from the outside, while the others were headed into the upside down.

She had manage to pull a brave face for the last few days, but standing at the doorstep was beginning to test what little bravery Y/n had left.

“Max, you and Erica will be ok on lookout?”

The young girl nodded, "yup, we got it covered.” She then gestured towards Erica who was already setting up base on the front yard. Y/n watched Max head off and turned back to the front door, her hand reaching out to open it only to be stopped by Steve's.

“Wait, um..." He looked at his shoes, then at the door, then at his shoes again, trying to find the right words without putting a damper on morale. He licked his lips and sighed. "Just be careful, please.”

“I will."

Steve continued to hold her hand firmly, his expression beginning to morph from concern to desperation. He knew once they entered the house, there was no going back.

“If you start to feel like something’s wrong, just-“

“Steve. I will," Y/n assured him, knowing where he was going. Just let me know, she presumed.

Y/n did not need to be reminded that Steve had her back and would be ready to step in if things went south. It was already common knowledge to her. However, that was not what Steve was concerned about.

“You don’t need to put yourself on the line anymore than you already are," he croaked, his tone almost pleading. Y/n drew her brows together.

“What do you mean?”

“I know you, Y/n,” Steve whispered. “Don’t do anything reckless.”

Her breath quickened as she met Steve's gaze. Sometimes it felt like he could read her mind. Like he knew she made peace with the chance of not returning if it meant killing Vecna and any plan he had to destroy home and her loved ones.

“This is bigger than just us," Y/n reasoned. Steve kissed his teeth, frustrated. She gripped his hands tighter. "If Nancy’s right about what she saw, the whole of Hawkins could-“

“To hell with this shithole of a town," he scoffed. If the cost came at Y/n's life, it was never going to be worth it to him. Never. Steve narrowed his eyes. "If it comes down to it, I need you to promise me you’re gonna save yourself.”

Y/n froze. No one had ever asked anything like that of her, at least not that she could remember. All her life she had grown used to giving. Her time, her love, her kindness and her patience. There were times she seriously questioned if her selflessness was her primary source of value.

Steve inhaled sharply, trying to keep his composure, as hard as it was. Too much had happened over the last few weeks, much less the last three years. Even so, he knew exactly where his breaking point was, or rather who it rested with.

“Vecna’s taken enough people. And if he takes you too, I don’t-" He shook his head, not daring to finish his sentence for fear it would speak the worst case scenario into existence. Instead, Steve squeezed “Just, please… promise me.”

Y/n nodded, feeling a new and strange sensation in her gut. For so long she had been hyper-fixated on her death- humouring the thought of it, wishing would come sooner and then fearing it would arrive too quickly. Now, all she wanted to do was come back and live to have another burger date with Steve at the lookout and then some.

***

April 2nd, 1986 - 8PM

Steve and Y/n's first couple of hours in the house were spent wandering around and playing hangman while the Bee Gees played on the cassette they were borrowing from Eddie, until finally they found it.

She signalled for him to turn the music down and, while hesitant, Steve obliged. He gave her space to sit and try and lure Vecna out, but didn't stand too far away. Steve wanted a clear view of his girlfriend so he could begin timing from the moment her eyes turned grey. 15 minutes and the Bee Gees were to be back on and at full volume, not a second delayed.

Y/n sat down, placing her torch in front of her and crossing her legs. She was unsure where to begin. Hey Vecna it's me again, seemed an inappropriate start. She thought back to what he showed her and he said through the image of her dad, the very words that had been weighing heavily on her.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said…."

The dark and horrid words he said and he accusations he made, all of which were too heavy for her to repeat aloud even to Steve. It took her a while to realise why they haunted her so much.

"Because it was true.”

Y/n hated every second of realising it, but there was no denying it anymore. Vecna was just echoing thoughts that already existed in her mind. She took a deep breath in and out. If she needed to make herself vulnerable, she knew just the thing to talk about.

“My dad was a ghost after my mom died," Y/n began, the lump in her throat growing as she continued to remember it.

The police at the doorstep explaining that there had been a car accident, the moment at the hospital, the funeral and the memorial he was too inebriated to show up for.

“He stopped looking after himself. Stopped looking after me. Then, he started drinking all the time, and then... he just became the worst.”

He was a shell of a person who came in and out of the house, most times without saying even a word to his daughter. Even so, Y/n remembered the few nights he came home and lashed out at her for no particular reasons more than she did the nights he said nothing at all. Her anger and resentment grew and grew over time with nowhere to go but inwards.

“It was true, I used to wish I had died when Sara and our mom died," she admitted, her eyes falling down to the floorboards. There was no shame in admitting it anymore. If Vecna infiltrated her mind, he would have already known.

Steve's grip on his torch was beginning to weaken. Y/n had told her bits and pieces of the same story, but never this part. He wondered how she was able to this to herself for as long as she did.

“I felt like- um," Y/n sniffled, briefly wiping her eyes and clearing her throat before continuing. Steve did not like where this was headed. "I felt like maybe, to my dad, I was just a walking reminder of them, and of the fact that they were still gone... Maybe me living was just insult to injury.”

When Hopper did speak to Y/n in the years following his wife and Sara's death, he never called her a walking reminder in plain words. He didn't need to. His actions said more than enough.

“But then my dad sobered up,” Y/n continued, her tone and expression turning bitter. The day she had prayed for for years, and it came in a way that left her even more wounded and angry. “- and he cleared the heavy stuff out from the bathroom cabinet, and I thought things were finally turning around… But he was still awful to me.”

Perhaps not in the same way. Hopper and her talked more often and he did not lash out at her as often as he did before, but he still found a way to neglect her and inadvertently let her know she was both an afterthought and a burden. And it hurt Y/n all the same.

“And so, I guess between that and watching him be a better parent to El, I just… I started to hate him," she confessed. The thought used to terrify her, but Y/n had since come to terms with the fact that there was no other way of putting it. “I hated that he was good to her. I hated how he made me feel like shit, and I hated how everyone praised him for getting clean.”

From the people at the station, at her school and even at the post office. All people saw was a grieving father father turn his life around for his daughters. Y/n resented it and, because of it, she resented her dad even more.

“Then, I started to realise… I hated him so much, I didn’t want him to be around anymore," she squeezed her eyes shut. The thought came to her over time, but when it did it was vivid. “I wanted him gone, so all the pain and anger could go too.”

Y/n wanted that more than anything. The anger and the pain was all she knew for so long, but she didn't want it anymore and didn't know how much longer she could carry it all.

“It got to the point where some nights, I wished my mom and my sister had never died and I wished he had instead. And I told myself that maybe it was ok to think that, because I…”

This was it, she thought to herself. This was what the tipping point.

“I could never imagine my mom doing this to me.”

Steve squeezed his eyes shut. He never knew that- any of it, and it killed him she was only just talking about it now, in the Creel house attic of all places. When he opened his eyes and turned his focus back to Y/n, he realised she was still and silent but her eyes were wide open.

“Y/n?”

He waved his hand in front of her face, hoping for a reaction but there was nothing. Steve let out a huff and began to count in his head, trying not to think too much about whether the entire plan was a massive mistake.

***

April 2nd, 1986 - 9:00PM

The first time Steve took her to the lookout. That was the good memory Y/n held onto and focused in on once she was sure Vecna had come for her. She was inside Steve's BMW when Vecna himself appeared, only to be sent flying backwards into the woods. Y/n got out and scanned the empty parking lot until her eyes landed on a familiar silhouette. She was instantly running towards it.

“Is it really you?”

Her head was shaven and she was dressed in white, but Y/n recognised her El. Her little sister. She placed her hand on the sides of El's face, touching and tugging it, unsure if she really was El or just another illusion.

The younger girl held her big sister's hands and smiled, “it’s me.”

Y/n scrunched her brows together, puzzled. She knew this time would be different, but she never expected to see El.

“How?”

“I piggybacked from a pizza dough freezer.”

The older girl blinked, unsure if it was worth questioning further.

“Are you… are you ok? Are you safe?”

El nodded and Y/n felt instant relief. She glanced back at the woods where Vecna would undoubtedly reappear from anytime soon, then turned back to El. There was a chance they might never see each other again, and Y/n could not get past it or past the one thing she had been dying to say to her- that she know she would regret not saying.

“El, I’m so sorry," Y/n cried, her words spilling out in a panicked hurry. "I’m so sorry for every mean thing I’ve ever done or said to you.”

It was the first few weeks after moved in and the weeks following Hopper's death. Y/n was frustrated, resentful, and angry which resulted in being less than kind to El, who was the least bit deserving of it. She needed her to know she was sorry.

“Y/n stop,” the younger girl pleaded, gripping her sister's arms and shaking her slightly. “Don’t think about it.”

It would only make her more vulnerable to Vecna, which was the last thing El wanted. Besides, she never cared about those moments. El had plenty of moments herself where she was the same to Y/n. The memories El held onto and treasured the most were the times Y/n looked after, cheered her. Those moments outweighed the bad ones by miles.

Y/n shook her head. Maybe it wasn't the best time, but there was a decent likelihood it was her only chance at getting it off her chest.

“I never thought I’d get to have a little sister again," Y/n whispered. "I’m so lucky it was you, El.”

“I’m lucky too," the younger girl responded, not missing a beat.

Before anything more could be said, Y/n was lifted off the ground by dark vine-like tendrils outstretched from the woods where Vecna emerged from and began walking towards El.

“Y/n!”

The young girl screamed and lifted her hands, trying to fight back, but Vecna’s grasp on her sister only tightened. Y/n tried to fight it, but the tendril wrapped around her neck suffocated her windpipes. The last thing she saw was El, fighting with all her might to fend off Vecna. The last thought she had was was of how much she wanted and hoped for El to make it out ok.

Then she lost consciousness.

***

April 3rd, 1986 - 12AM

El was running and searching. Though still haunted by Vecna’s dying words, El could stand to worry about it later. First she needed to find her sister snd make sure was ok. El closed her eyes and focused, then she heard it— the sound of Steve screaming.

She could see where they were. She watched from a distance as Y/n’s levitating body come crashing against the floor beneath her. El started to run, praying Vecna hadn’t done irreparable damage.

There were gashes along her arms and legs and she was unconscious from the fall, but her limbs were still in tact and her eyes were unharmed. El let out a sigh of relief, counting it as a win.

“Y/n, Y/n wake up!”

El watched Steve pull Y/n into his arms and shake her roughly, shout her name and begging her to wake up, but to no avail.

Panicked and desperate, the young girl placed her hand atop Y/n and closed her eyes, chanelling all her focus and power into guiding her big sister back to consciousness, back to her body and back into Steve’s arms.

Y/n’s life flashed before her eyes, only it was the good parts. The best parts. All her best memories with all the people she lived— her sisters, her parents, Steve and everyone in between.

Then she heard the faintest voice whisper to her.

“I’ll see you soon.”

Back in Hawkins, Steve tightened his embrace around his girlfriend’s unconscious figure, tears streaming down his face as he continued to call out Y/n’s name, desperate for her to wake up. The cassette player gave out and there was no telling when the ambulance Max called would arrive at the scene. Steve was willing to try anything, do anything.

“There’s a light,” he croaked, his voice coarse from the screaming and shouting. Even so, he owed to Y/n to keep going. “— a certain kind of light, that never shone on me.”

Y/n fingertips moved first, then her eyes and then lips.

“Steve?”

“Oh my god,” he cried out, tears flooding his eyes as he watched hers slowly blunk open. Relieved, Steve leaned down and kissed her temple fervently. “Oh my god, you’re ok!”

Y/n tried to moved her arms so she could sit up, but with every slight movement came a piercing ache in her bones and a burning sensation against her skin. She sunk back into Steve’s embrace and groaned painfully.

“Max already called for help, an ambulance should be here soon,” he explained.

She took deep breaths and glanced up at Steve, smiling weakly.

“You used to hate singing that song.”

“I think I’ve got a newfound love for it now,” Steve quipped, a faint laugh beneath his breath. That Bee Gees song saved his girlfriend’s life twice now. As far as Steve was concerned, it was the best song in existence.

Y/n’s eyes drifted shut as the energy it took to stay conscious came to be too much. Steve shifted his arms and stroked the side of her face.

“Hey, c’mon… Baby, you need to stay awake.”

She opened her eyes and used all the energy she had to stay alert, but the linger she stayed concious the more time she had to remember what had happened— what Vecna said to El about everything that would happen to Hawkins. Y/n began to pant as tears formed in her eyes.

“It’s not over, Steve,” Y/n whimpered. Vecna may be gone, but they weren’t out of the woods. “It’s not over yet.”

“It’s over for now,” he assured her. Whatever it was was not important. Not to Steve and not in that moment. All that mattered was that she did what she needed to do and she made it back alive.

***

April 6th, 1986

Y/n placed her last box of donations on the table. The older woman smiled gratefully and passed to one of the volunteers for sorting. She turned back to Y/n, her eyes darting towards the bandges along her arms.

“How are you healing?”

Y/n came to the shelter at the school gym for three reasons: to donte, to volunteer and to get bandages for her injuries.

“It doesn’t hurt or bleed as much.”

“That’s good,” the woman smiled, remembering how much Y/n was in when she came to get her bandages changed the first time. “Just be sure to take it easy until everything fully heals, ok? And come see me if anything gets worse.”

“I will,” Y/n nodded, “— and hey I’ll come by tomorrow with a few others to help out for the day.”

With more and more families turning up seeking shelter or supplies, Y/n knew they could use as many volunteers as they could get. The woman nodded gratefully.

“That would be really great, Y/n. Thanks.”

Y/n turned around and fished her keys out from her bag as she weaved through the cots and headed for the exit. She looked up and saw a young girl sitting next to an older man.

“How long are we gonna be here dad?”

Y/n frowned as she listened in. Seeing the kids that came to the shelter always brought a pain to her chest. She watched the old man wrap his arm around his daughter and sigh.

“I don’t know, bug,” he huffed.

Y/n froze for a brief second, then quickly sped off before anyone nlticed her staring. When she started the car and turned the steering wheel, Y/n’s hands were shaking. She listened to the radio the entire drive home and by the time she reached the driveway, Y/n was thinking about something else.

Y/n parked Steve’s car in front of the cabin. As she got out and approached the front porch, she was puzzled by the strange vehicle parked adjacent to the house.

When she walked inside, she saw Steve sitting on the couch and tossed him his car keys. Then, when she turned towards the kitchen, she saw a woman standing with her back towards her. Y/n’s bag fell from her shoukder and she went racing towards the woman.

“Oh my god, Joyce!”

The woman wrapped her arms around Y/n, hugging her tightly and then letting go so she could get a good look at her.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re ok,” Joyce smiled, placing her hand against Y/n’s cheek. She had a million burning questions.

“Wh-where’s El? And Will and Jonathan?”

“I-I don’t know,” Joyce answered honestly. “… I was in Russia.”

Y/n blinked, unsure if she heard her correctly. Of all the explanations for not answering the phone when she called before, Y/n was not expecting that to be it.

“You were what? How did you get here then?”

Joyce started grin and patted Y/n’s shoulder, which left her puzzled. There was something going on, but Y/n had a feeling Joyce was not going to outright tell her what it was, and she had no clue what to make of it.

“I’ll tell you later, honey,” the older woman answered, knowing there was something else far more important for Y/n to do. The girl knitted her brows together.

“Why not now?”

Joyce nodded her head towards the door to one of the bedrooms, her smile never faltering, not even for a moment. The woman’s demeanour left Y/n greatly unsettled but also extremely curious.

“There’s someone waiting for you in the room.”

***

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bradshawsbaby · 1 year

Text

Letters to My Love // Part I

The Night We Met

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: When you signed up to volunteer with the USO, you never anticipated that you would meet a man like Ensign Robert Floyd. Fate brings you together one balmy spring evening in Charleston—the night before Bob is set to ship off across the Atlantic. Pen and paper become your only means of sharing your heart with the naval aviator who’s captivated it, igniting a correspondence that spans the distance between you. Can love blossom even as war rages and thousands of miles keep you apart?

Word Count: 20k

Author’s Note: This story feels like it’s been living in my head for so long, and I’m so excited to finally have Part I up and ready! It’s a long one, I admit. The majority of the story is going to be told through letters, so I wanted to take the time early on to set up the narrative and introduce you to the major characters. I suggest curling up with a nice cup of tea and a cozy blanket. I hope you enjoy!

Set the Mood: If you’re looking for some 1940s vibes, check out the playlist I made to pair with the story!

Songs specifically featured in this chapter: Sandman // Tuxedo Junction // The Way You Look Tonight // Someone to Watch Over Me // Moonglow // A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square

Dedication: This story is dedicated to my sweet friend, Clara, also known as @luminousnotmatter! Her support and input have been invaluable, and she’s a big reason why this story got off the ground. Thank you, Clara! Love you!

Warnings: Alternating POV, allusions to social anxiety, references to war, extremely subtle innuendos brought up in conversations between friends, fluff.

May 9, 1942

Bob’s POV

Naval Air Station Charleston

Goose Creek, South Carolina

“Come on, Floyd, it’s our last night stateside!”

“Don’t be a killjoy!”

“Come with us to the dance!”

“There’ll be lots of pretty girls!”

Sighing softly, Bob lifted his head and lowered the pen he’d been using to compose a letter to his parents back home in Iowa. He wasn’t sure when he’d be able to send another one, so he’d been trying to concentrate on getting everything down on paper that he wanted to tell them. But his fellow officers were evidently determined to distract him.

Sliding his glasses up his nose, Bob’s gaze shifted from face to face, taking in the group of men who had stealthily surrounded his bunk while he’d been focused on assuring his mother he would keep safe and see her soon. They were all dressed to the nines, decked in their dress blues and looking as eager as anything to get off base.

He couldn’t say he blamed them. Tonight was their last night stateside, as Andrews had pointed out, and who knew when the next time they’d have an opportunity to go to a dance or talk to a pretty girl would be? Of course, based on the conversations he’d heard buzzing around base all day, talking wasn’t the only thing the boys had on their minds for tonight.

He couldn’t say he blamed them for that either. Most of the guys in his squadron were young officers like him, recent graduates of Annapolis who’d finished school just in time for the United States to plunge itself into another world war. They’d barely had a moment to celebrate their commissioning into the United States Navy before Uncle Sam was calling them up to the frontlines. Some of the boys had sweethearts back home, pretty young things whose pictures served as talismans and whose letters promised that they’d be faithful and true. But most of them, like Bob, had no one but Mom and Pop to write letters to. And they were more than happy to seek out a little bit of tender loving care, if only for a night, in the arms of pretty volunteers at the USO dances.

Well, they were. Bob wasn’t. Sure, he’d gone to plenty of dances the USO had graciously hosted in an attempt to boost the morale of boys who were shipping out, knowing in the back of their minds that there was a good chance they’d never be coming home again. And he’d even danced with a few lovely girls. But he found that he always got tongue tied around them, always said the wrong thing or got too flustered to be smooth and suave the way his fellow officers were. He also wasn’t one for dancing, as many an unfortunate partner had learned.

So even though tonight was his last night on American soil, and the USO was hosting a dance just thirty minutes away in Charleston, Bob had made the decision to stay behind. He’d finish his letter to his parents and try to get some shuteye so that he’d be well rested for their deployment come tomorrow morning.

The thought was apparently inconceivable to the rest of his squadron.

“What are you gonna do? Stay here by yourself and rot?” Andrews demanded, flicking a bit of lint off the sleeve of his uniform. Thomas Andrews, or Tommy Boy as everyone referred to him, was the sort of good-natured guy who always had a beautiful woman on his arm, but wanted to make sure that all his buddies did, too.

“I don’t think I’d rot in just a few hours,” Bob replied, shaking his head as he turned over the page of the letter he’d been writing, not necessarily needing all the guys to see the message he’d been penning for his mother.

“That’s Floyd for you. Always taking things too literally,” Johnston grinned, plopping down beside Bob on his bunk and slinging an arm around him. Benjamin Johnston—Benny, as he preferred to be called—had been one of Bob’s roommates at Annapolis. He was as good a guy and dependable a friend as you could come by, but that didn’t mean he didn’t love to rib Bob, and anybody else, whenever he got the opportunity.

“We leave tomorrow, boys. I’ve got a few loose ends to tie up here, letters to write and things to see to before we leave. You go have fun at the dance. You won’t even notice I’m not there,” Bob insisted, clearing his throat and adjusting his glasses once more.

“Trace, would you come talk some sense into your rear-seater?” Tommy Boy scoffed, hooking his thumb in Bob’s direction with a shake of his head.

A familiar chuckle rippled across the space between them as Paul made his way into the room, clearly wondering where everyone had gone, considering they were supposed to be leaving soon for the dance.

Paul Trace was not only a fellow Annapolis graduate and Bob’s front seat pilot, but his best friend. The two of them had grown up together in Linn County, just outside Cedar Rapids. With both their fathers being officers in the Navy, and veterans of the Great War to boot, it hadn’t exactly come as a surprise to anyone when the two of them had ended up at the Naval Academy.

“Come on, fellas, leave Bob alone,” Paul said, smirking knowingly in Bob’s direction as he approached the group of them.

The rest of the guys shifted instantly, making room for him. Paul had always had that way about him, that quality that made everyone else in the room pay attention to him and listen to whatever he had to say. Bob had always admired that about him. He knew it was certainly a quality he didn’t possess. Even on his best days, he never seemed to be able to do more than fade into the background, unnoticed by almost everyone around him. But Paul never made him feel small for that, and that was something for which Bob had always been grateful. He was a good friend, and an even better pilot, and Bob thanked his lucky stars every day that they’d managed to be paired together.

“It’s hopeless, Trace. We’ve tried everything. Talk some sense into this best buddy of yours and convince him to come to the dance with us tonight,” Benny begged, clasping his hands in a pleading fashion and shooting Paul his best wounded puppy expression.

“And convince him soon,” Tommy Boy added, glancing down at his watch. “We’ve got to get a move on soon if we want to make it to Charleston in time for the dance.”

“Gotta get there early if you want to dance with the prettiest girls,” Benny added with a wink, rising from Bob’s bunk and straightening out his uniform. “We’ll wait for you outside, Trace,” he said, lightly slapping Paul’s arm. “And you better be with him, Floyd!” he called out as the group of them started to walk away, pointing at Bob before ducking out of the room.

Bob chuckled softly, shaking his head once again and rubbing the back of his neck.

Paul sat down at the end of the bed, clasping his hands in his lap and lounging comfortably. “You know you’ll never hear the end of it if you don’t come with us, right?” he grinned.

“I really am busy,” Bob told him, gesturing at the papers he had scattered across his bed and picking his pen up once more.

“One last letter home?” Paul asked, peering over at the papers without prying.

“One last letter home,” Bob nodded, sighing softly as his eyes quickly skimmed what he’d already written. “I’m just not sure when I’ll get an opportunity to write to them again. They know we’re shipping out tomorrow, but I just want to give them a few more updates before we leave.”

“I understand, Robby,” he replied, using the nickname he’d had for him since childhood. And he did. That was the great thing about Paul. He was the kind of guy who meant what he said. And Bob knew that he understood better than most.

“Did you write any last letters home for Natasha and the kids?” Bob asked, lowering his pen to focus on his friend.

Paul smiled, a touch of sadness in his eyes as he nodded. “Just yesterday. Promised them I’d write as often as I’m able. Nat gave me this before I left,” he murmured, reaching into the breast pocket of his uniform and pulling out a small photograph. It looked to be new, though the edges were already starting to fade from where Paul had obviously been clutching it tightly. He handed it off to Bob with a proud grin.

Taking the photo from Paul’s grasp, Bob smiled at the sight. It was taken at Christmas, Paul and Natasha smiling brightly for the camera, their three-year-old daughter, Clara holding up her baby doll proudly, while their newborn son, Paul, Jr. lay nestled in his mother’s arms.

“It’s a beautiful picture, Paul,” Bob said sincerely, handing it back to him.

“That’s all Natasha and the kids,” Paul beamed, pressing a kiss to the photograph before slipping it back into the pocket right above his heart, patting it as if for security. “Certainly doesn’t have anything to do with this ugly mug,” he laughed self-deprecatingly.

Bob laughed as well, knowing from the way girls had always ogled his best friend that that couldn’t be further from the truth. “Speaking of Natasha, how’s she going to feel about you going to this USO dance tonight, huh?” he teased, lifting an eyebrow.

Natasha and Paul were childhood sweethearts. Bob couldn’t recall a single memory growing up that didn’t involve both of them. He’d been proud to stand beside Paul as his best man when the two of them had gotten hitched the summer before they left for Annapolis, and even prouder when his friends had asked him to be their daughter’s godfather.

“Nat knows she’s the only one for me,” Paul replied with a wave of his hand, as if the thought of him having eyes for any woman but his wife was preposterous. And that’s because it was. “She told me she’s more concerned with finding you a nice girl, and she’s tasked me with making it happen,” he went on, waggling his eyebrows.

Bob groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Not you, too, Paul. Weren’t you just telling the other guys to leave me alone about the dance tonight?”

“That was the other guys,” Paul smirked, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “Now this is me asking. Your very best friend in the whole world. You’re not gonna let me down, are you, Robby?”

Bob groaned again in response, pulling his glasses off and pinching the bridge of his nose. “You know how I get at these things, Paul. I can’t get through a dance without stomping all over some poor girl’s feet, and I can’t flirt worth a lick. What’s the point?”

“The point is that this is your last night stateside, buddy o’ mine. You’re about to get shipped off halfway around the world, risking your neck to defend your country and all those pretty girls you’re so convinced you can’t talk to. You deserve one last night of fun,” Paul insisted, his expression serious even as his lips turned up in a cajoling smile. “Who cares if you can’t dance? Just come and have some drinks with me and the fellas. Let’s celebrate our last night together in the land of the free, home of the brave,” he grinned.

Bob’s eyes flickered down to his unfinished letter, hesitation written all over his face as he mentally debated what to do.

“Come on, Robby, do it for me! And for Natasha! She’ll never let me hear the end of it if I let you stay in tonight,” Paul pleaded, nudging him teasingly.

How could he argue with that? Shoulders slumping in defeat, Bob felt his resolve crumble as he mumbled. “Alright, fine. I’ll come with you.”

Paul let out a whoop of victory. “Break out those dress blues, pal. What girl in her right mind will be able to resist?”

Bob chuckled softly at that, organizing the pages of his letter and slipping them into his trunk before moving to get changed. “You better not make me regret this decision,” he joked.

Paul just smirked, leaning against the wall as he waited for Bob to get ready. “Nah, you won’t regret it. I have a good feeling about tonight.”

Your POV

Charleston, South Carolina

“Stop fidgeting,” Dottie chided, poking you playfully in the side. “I’m nearly done,” she hummed, applying a light coating of rouge to the apples of your cheeks and then brushing it up along your cheekbones with a practiced hand.

“I can’t help but fidget. It feels like we’ve been at this for hours,” you laughed softly, dutifully keeping your eyes closed and your chin tilted upward as your older sister finished up her careful ministrations.

“Well, perfection takes time,” came Dottie’s quick retort. Even with your eyes closed, you could hear the smile in her voice. “And perfect you look, my darling,” she added gleefully, tapping the tip of your nose with affection. “Open your eyes and take a look.”

Slowly opening your eyes, you swiveled on the vanity chair in your sister’s bedroom and faced the mirror. Your breath caught slightly in your throat and your eyes widened, something that Dottie didn’t fail to notice.

“You look stunning, sweetheart,” she grinned, wrapping her arms around you and bringing her face down to your level, beaming at your dual reflections.

Normally, you would have shyly brushed off the compliment, deflecting by pointing out something lovelier about Dottie or changing the subject altogether. But gazing at your reflection in the mirror tonight, you found it hard to deny that your sister had certainly worked wonders. You felt like a movie star. Between the victory rolls that Dottie had spent hours setting, ensuring your hair fell in the softest, sleekest ringlets imaginable, the light pink rouge that accentuated your cheeks, and the dark black mascara that framed your eyes, you had never felt more beautiful or grown up in all your life.

“Oh, Sissy,” you breathed out, unconsciously reverting to the affectionate childhood nickname you’d had for your older sister when the two of you were growing up.

“You’re gonna knock ’em dead tonight, kid! The boys are going to be lining up for the chance at a dance with you,” Dottie told you, with that air of cool confidence that she had always seemed to possess, even when you were little girls.

“Oh, no, I don’t think—”

“Hush,” Dottie silenced you immediately with a finger to your lips. “None of that now. You’re going to be the prettiest girl in the room, I just know it. Not to mention the sweetest,” she smiled with a wink, chucking you under the chin.

You knew there was no point in arguing with her, so you just smiled and kept your mouth shut. You did look pretty. You felt pretty, too. But you knew that would only get you so far when your own painful shyness kept you from being able to string two sentences together.

Dottie was the social butterfly. She was the one who could carry on a conversation with anyone about anything. You’d always admired that about her, and looked up to her in every way imaginable. But you’d also come to accept long ago that you were never going to be like your big sister. You panicked at the mere thought of holding a conversation with someone you’d just met, and when you threw handsome men into the mix, it turned you into an awkward fool who fumbled over the few words you managed to squeak out.

Yet, despite all that, you’d somehow allowed your very persuasive older sister to talk you into volunteering with the USO.

“It’ll be a good opportunity for you to get out of your shell a little bit! Meet new people. Including handsome men,” Dottie had told you with a wink and a playful nudge. “Plus you’ll be doing your part for the war effort!”

You knew Dottie would never let you hear the end of it if you didn’t agree, so you had. And the truth was that you did enjoy helping out at events, offering refreshments and kind smiles to the men who were leaving everything behind to serve on the frontlines of the war. But there had been no love connections, much to your sister’s chagrin.

Dottie was certain that the dance tonight was going to change that.

“Here, sweetheart, can’t forget this,” she told you, holding out a gold tube of red lipstick. “It’ll match your nails perfectly.”

“You’ve really thought of every detail, hm?” you asked teasingly, smiling as you leaned in closer to the mirror to carefully apply the lipstick. It was bright and flashy, just like the polish that Dottie had insisted on painting your nails with yesterday.

“Of course,” Dottie giggled, disappearing into her spacious closet for a moment. “Including this!” she exclaimed a moment later, reappearing with her most stunning party dress in hand. It was cream-colored and covered in a design of delicate pink flowers, with pearl buttons adorning the back.

“Oh, Dottie, I couldn’t!” you gasped, nearly dropping the tube of lipstick in your rush to rise from the vanity seat.

“You absolutely could,” your sister insisted, laying the dress out on her bed and smoothing it with gentle fingers. “It doesn’t even fit me anymore after the baby. My hips are stretched beyond repair,” she laughed, sliding her hands down her curvy figure. “You’ll be doing me a favor by wearing it. At least then I’ll have the satisfaction of knowing it’s being enjoyed by someone.”

“You’re too good to me, you know that?” you murmured, stepping beside your sister and wrapping her in a tight hug.

“Says the angel who dropped everything back home to come to Charleston and help me keep my head on straight,” Dottie smiled, hugging you back and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I love being here with you and Paddy and Frankie,” you told her, taking her hand in yours and giving it a light squeeze.

“Not as much as we love having you,” Dottie replied, cupping your face in her hands and smiling warmly. “Oh, but look at me! I’m going to muss your makeup! And we have to finish getting you ready!”

Five minutes later, you were twirling dutifully in front of the mirror in the prettiest dress you’d ever worn, Dottie eyeing you carefully from every angle to make sure everything was perfect.

“Oh, I’m just sad I’m going to miss you being the belle of the ball tonight!” she sighed dramatically, eyes twinkling with humor when you rolled your eyes at her. “Come on, let’s show you off to the boys,” she beamed, taking your hand and practically dragging you out of her bedroom and down the stairs.

“Dottie, I’m going to twist my ankle and then I won’t be able to go to the dance at all,” you laughed breathlessly, straightening out the dress as the two of you bounded into the living room.

“Paddy, look!” Dottie announced, holding out her arms to show you off as if you were one of Hollywood’s newest starlets.

Your brother-in-law let out a loud whistle, grinning jovially as he looked you up and down. “Hey, look at you, kid! I think you might be a little lost. The MGM lot is over in Hollywood,” he teased.

Blushing slightly at the compliment, you waved it off. “Oh, stop,” you smiled, walking over to him and lifting your soon-to-be five month old nephew out of his arms, nuzzling his soft head.

Frankie babbled happily in your arms, reaching up to tug at the pearl necklace you were wearing, the one your parents had bought you for your sixteenth birthday.

“Oh no you don’t, little monster,” Dottie laughed, taking her son out of your arms and pressing an affectionate kiss to the top of his head. “Auntie’s going out tonight, so there will be no pulling on her jewelry or tugging on her hair.”

“Or spitting up on her dress,” Paddy sighed, indicating a large stain on his shirt.

“Yes, none of that either,” Dottie gasped, looking horrified at the prospect.

You laughed, gazing with love at your family. “You act as if I’m off to be crowned Queen of England. It’s hardly so serious as all that, Sissy,” you winked.

Dottie just shook her head, bouncing her baby boy in her arms. “You’re going to break so many hearts tonight, baby doll. Don’t you agree, Paddy?”

“Don’t indulge her,” you laughed, reaching for your purse and making sure that your wallet and house keys were inside.

“Listen to me, kiddo,” Paddy said, moving beside you and wrapping a brotherly arm around your shoulders. “None of these lugheads are worthy of you, you hear me? And if even one of them looks at you the wrong way, or hurts you, I’ll give him a knuckle sandwich, okay?”

“Oh, Paddy!” Dottie huffed in exasperation, lowering Frankie into his bassinet and crossing her arms over her chest. “Shush! Don’t listen to him!”

You just laughed softly, shaking your head. “Thank you, Paddy, I appreciate it,” you grinned, pressing a kiss to your brother-in-law’s cheek.

“You sure you don’t need me to give you a ride over to the dance, kid?” Paddy asked, resting his hands on his hips. He was in a jolly mood, like he always was, but you could tell from the pinched look around his eyes that he was exhausted from a long day of work.

“It’s alright, don’t worry about me,” you insisted, reaching for the white sweater you’d left sitting on the back of the armchair. “I’m walking over with some of the other girls. And the community center isn’t far. Plus, it’s a nice night.”

“Mhm, it is. A perfect night, in fact,” Dottie nodded innocently, slipping her arm around her husband’s waist. “Perfect for a little evening stroll with a handsome fella, wouldn’t you say so, Paddy?”

“Why, Dot, are you proposing to take me on an evening stroll? Or are you just hoping your baby sister comes home with a marriage proposal tonight?” Paddy smirked, loud laughter booming from his chest when his wife smacked his arm.

“Oh, shut up, you idiot,” Dottie laughed as well, a huge smile breaking out across her face as Paddy bent his head to press a kiss to her cheek.

Even as you smiled, you felt that familiar ache bloom in your chest as you witnessed the easy affection and love that your sister and her husband shared with one another. You’d always desired a relationship like that, a marriage like that. You’d just never seemed to find the right man.

Maybe Dottie was right. Maybe he would be at the dance tonight. As improbable as it felt, crazier things had surely happened. And evidently your sister had given you permission to stay out as long as you wanted, taking moonlit strolls with perfect strangers.

“We’ll be here, kid, if you need anything,” Paddy told you, resting a protective hand on your shoulder. “Don’t hesitate to call.”

“But also don’t hesitate to spend all the time you need with whatever handsome man happens to catch your eye,” Dottie winked, shooting both you and Paddy an impish grin.

“Okay, on that note, I think it’s time I took my leave,” you giggled, draping your sweater over your arm and checking your purse one more time as you headed towards the front door, Paddy and Dottie following behind you.

“Have fun, kiddo. Be safe,” Paddy murmured as you turned to give him a hug goodbye.

“I will,” you promised, moving to wrap your sister in a tight hug. “Thanks for everything, Sissy,” you whispered to her, squeezing her hand before slipping out the front door.

“Have fun! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Dottie called after you with a laugh, waving you off excitedly.

A block away from your sister’s house, you met up with a few of the other girls who were volunteering with the USO, including your friend, Emily. The two of you met at the first USO event you’d volunteered at, and had become fast friends.

“You look beautiful!” Emily exclaimed brightly, slipping her arm through yours as your group began strolling in the direction of the community center, all the other girls chirping and babbling excitedly.

“So do you,” you smiled, knowing the boys wouldn’t be able to keep their eyes off your friend. She never had a shortage of dance partners at these sorts of events.

“Oh, I’m so excited!” she giggled, beaming up at you. “Tonight is going to be special. I can just feel it.”

You hoped Emily and Dottie were right.

Bob’s POV

“Here we are, boys!” Tommy Boy grinned as the squadron pulled up in front of the Charleston Community Center, the red, white, and blue balloons and streamers floating in the warm spring breeze a good sign that they were in the right place. “Our last night stateside,” he announced loudly, rubbing his hands together with a cheeky smirk. “Better make it count!”

The rest of the guys let out a loud whoop of agreement, laughing and shoving each other as they each hurried up the stairs, hoping to be the first inside and the first in the arms of the prettiest volunteers.

“What do you say, Bobby Boy?” Benny beamed, squeezing Bob’s shoulders as he came up behind him. “Gonna get yourself a girl tonight?”

“Oh, I just—I don’t think that I—” Bob stuttered, his ears burning red as he adjusted his glasses, pushing them up firmly onto the bridge of his nose.

Benny guffawed amicably, not actually possessing a mean bone in his body. “Aw, c’mon, Floyd,” he coaxed, slinging a friendly arm around his shoulders. “Think of it as a little ‘going away’ present for yourself. Lots of pretty girls who can’t resist a man in uniform—especially an officer’s uniform,” he winked, nudging Bob with a devilish expression.

When Bob just continued to stammer and blush, Paul stepped in smoothly, giving Benny a teasing punch to the arm. “C’mon, Benny, leave him alone. He’s here, isn’t he? Let the man have a drink in peace. We haven’t even gotten inside yet.”

“Trace here is the perfect wingman, Bob,” Benny went on, clearly determined to get his old classmate a girl before the night was through. “He’s already got himself a pretty girl—”

“The prettiest,” Paul cut in, grinning.

“Alright, the prettiest girl,” Benny amended, smirking. “So he’s not on the prowl like the rest of us lugheads. Let him help you find a nice girl to give you a proper sendoff.”

“If I say I will, will you let us go inside?” Bob asked, smiling ruefully.

Benny laughed at that, smacking Bob on the back. “You crack me up, Floyd. You really do. Fine, fine. Let’s go inside. I’m getting myself a girl, even if you aren’t,” he insisted, waggling his eyebrows suggestively before hurrying up the stairs with a shameless grin.

“Just have fun tonight, pal,” Paul smiled, patting Bob on the back. “Our last night stateside. Let’s make it one to remember, huh?” He held out his hand for Bob to shake, the way they’d always done as kids before embarking on some grand adventure.

“Yeah,” Bob grinned, nodding as he reached out and clasped Paul’s hand, shaking firmly. “Let’s make it count.”

Chuckling, the two friends shook their heads in amusement and followed the path their fellow officers had already disappeared along, their long legs carrying them up the stairs and into the central foyer, the sound of music and raucous laughter drawing them in the right direction.

Pushing open the doors to the main hall, Bob and Paul were instantly met by a sea of uniformed men from all branches of the service and pretty girls in all their finery whirling across the dance floor. The band was enthusiastically giving their best rendition of Benny Goodman’s “Sandman,” the music reverberating throughout the room and setting a jovial atmosphere that almost made them forget they were shipping off to war tomorrow morning.

“At least we know the men we’re flying with are true to their word,” Paul called out over the din, grinning as he pointed in the direction of Tommy Boy, Benny, and the rest of their friends, who were already chatting away with a group of giggling girls, each one more dolled up than the last.

Bob grinned as well, shoving his hands into his pockets nervously. “I never doubted for a minute they’d find the girls they were after,” he shouted back, finding it difficult to make himself heard over the music and loud conversations buzzing around them.

“C’mon, let’s go grab a drink,” Paul suggested, nodding his head in the direction of the punch table that was situated across the room.

Bob trailed behind his best friend, keeping his head down as he passed by flirtatious couples and older volunteers who were trying to maintain an ounce of decorum in the dance hall. It was a difficult job that he didn’t envy. With the war on, and the majority of the men in the room tonight deploying within the next few days, there was a sense of urgency pulsating in the air—a desperate, hungry need to cling to anything and anyone that reminded them, if only for this moment, that they were alive. Lingering glances from across the room, longing touches on the dance floor, stolen kisses in the shadows—they would all be traded soon for bitter nights in the trenches and the deafening boom of gunfire and the stench of death. So tonight, they had to squeeze every last drop out of life. Because who knew when it would be their last?

Bob was jolted out of his silent musings when he realized that Paul had come to a halt in front of him, joining the ring of men waiting for a glass of punch. Clearing his throat and trying to shake all dire thoughts from his mind, Bob raised his head and fixed his gaze straight ahead.

And suddenly he forgot how to breathe.

There, standing behind the punch table with a couple other volunteers, was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in all his life. Hollywood could keep their Judy Garland, Rita Hayworth, Joan Fontaine, and all the rest—she outshone them all. She wasn’t looking in his direction, but he couldn’t help but stare as she handed a small glass of punch to a young sailor, her lips curving in the sweetest smile and her eyes sparkling brightly in the loveliest face he had ever beheld. The pink flowers on her dress brought out the rosiness in her cheeks, and Bob was certain that she had to be an angel sent down from heaven. She just had to be.

He only became aware of the sound of Paul loudly clearing his throat when his friend nudged him sharply in the ribcage, bringing him back down to earth. He tore his gaze away from the lovely angel hesitantly, half afraid she’d disappear forever if he lost sight of her.

“Welcome back to earth, pal,” Paul laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement. “See something you like? Or, should I say, someone?” he winked, craning his neck to seek out the object of Bob’s intense focus. “Ah, yes,” he murmured, nodding sagely. “A very pretty someone. I think Nat would approve of her for you.”

“Paul, no,” Bob stammered, his cheeks flaming red in embarrassment as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I—I was just—”

“You were just what? Hm?” Paul demanded, smiling knowingly. “Are you really going to stand here and tell me—me—that you weren’t just looking at that girl like she hung the moon and stars?”

“Well—I just—I mean—” Bob fumbled hopelessly, scuffing one of his newly polished shoes across the hardwood floor.

“Robby,” Paul cut him off, grinning as he grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him once for good measure. “Go talk to her.”

“Me? T-talk to her? Oh no, I couldn’t,” Bob insisted, shaking his head determinedly.

“It’s the perfect opportunity! She’s handing out punch to all the guys,” Paul said, indicating the table just a few feet away from them. “Just say something nice to her—compliment her dress or her hair or that string of pearls around her neck. Anything. C’mon, Robby, you can do it. I have faith in you,” he encouraged.

“I—I—” Bob turned his head to look at her again. Maybe he’d just been feeling lightheaded and she wouldn’t have so much of an effect on him this time. But as soon as he caught sight of her once more, his stomach promptly performed an Olympic-style somersault, his mouth suddenly feeling as dry as Iowa farmland in the middle of a summer drought.

She was so beautiful. A girl that beautiful would never want to talk to him. Not when she could have any man in the room that she wanted.

“I—I’m actually not thirsty,” Bob declared, turning quickly on his heel and making a beeline as far away from the punch table as possible.

“Bob!”

He could hear Paul calling after him, but he had to get as far away from the angel in the dress with the pink flowers as possible.

God, he was a coward. He could ship off halfway across the world to face the Nazis in Europe, but he couldn’t talk to a girl at a dance? Pathetic.

Why had he let the guys talk him into coming tonight?

Your POV

“Emily, why don’t you go dance? I can handle things here,” you offered, not failing to notice the wistful glances your friend kept tossing towards the center of the room—most notably in the direction of a cluster of handsome officers.

“Oh, no!” Emily exclaimed, pulling her attention back round towards the task at hand and shaking her head. “I wouldn’t leave you and Marilyn all alone,” she insisted, referring to the bubbly redhead who’d been put on punch table duty with the two of you this evening.

“It’s not such a hard job,” you laughed softly, ladling some of the fruity drink into a set of fresh glasses. “And I don’t mind. Really. I can tell how much you’re itching to get out there,” you smiled, shooting her a knowing look.

Emily bit her lip, seemingly contemplating your offer for a moment, but then shook her head once, firmly. “No, I’ll stay here. Some of the other volunteers will rotate in soon, and then we’ll both get a chance to dance,” she chittered brightly.

Your smile waned somewhat at that, and it was your turn to shake your head. “Oh, I don’t think so. I’m not much for dancing,” you admitted quietly, chewing on your lower lip. It took you a moment to recall the red lipstick Dottie had given you, and you flushed, hoping you hadn’t gotten it all over your teeth.

“Oh, don’t be silly! You volunteered for a dance and you don’t want to dance?” Emily teased gently, nudging your arm as she handed a glass of punch to a soldier who looked like he couldn’t possibly be a day older than eighteen. “I’m sure the fellas will be lining up to dance with you!”

Emily was so sweet and earnest that you didn’t have the heart to tell her that the boys would be lining up to dance with her, not with you. So you just smiled tightly and offered her a small nod in response, handing off a couple glasses of punch to a young couple who looked wholly out of breath after a few turns on the dance floor.

“The men look so handsome, don’t you think so?” Emily chattered excitedly, carefully setting out a new stack of napkins on the table. “And so many officers are here tonight!” she giggled, blushing prettily.

Marilyn suddenly leaned over at that, lowering her voice conspiratorially. She always was one to know the latest gossip. “I heard there’s a whole squadron of naval officers here tonight who are shipping out first thing tomorrow morning. It’s their last night in town, so you know what that means,” she finished with a wink.

You just blushed furiously at her innuendo, but Emily’s eyes widened innocently.

“No,” she murmured, admitting to her naivete. “What does that mean?”

Marilyn giggled in a way that indicated she had rather intimate experience with servicemen who were spending their last night stateside. Covering her mouth with her hand, she leaned in closer and whispered, “They’re looking for girls to give them a fun sendoff, if you catch my meaning.” She winked, flipping her red curls over her shoulder.

If possible, Emily’s eyes widened even further, looking like a pair of light blue china saucers. “Oh,” was all she managed to squeak out, her cheeks turning bright red.

Giggling some more, Marilyn turned away to resume her punch table duties, while Emily turned to gape at you.

“I never—well, I mean, I’ve flirted with a few boys and even kissed one or two,” Emily confessed, her blush extending down her throat and up to the tips of her ears. “But I never—did you know that? About their last night in town, I mean?”

You shrugged a little bit in embarrassment, thinking of the things you’d heard from Dottie and Paddy. “Well, I’ve heard. But I wouldn’t know from personal experience,” you hastily amended, clearing your throat shyly.

“Hm,” Emily murmured, more to herself than anybody else, turning to look out at the sea of eligible men with fresh eyes. “Well a dance and maybe a kiss is all they’re getting from me,” she announced firmly, her expression so serious that you couldn’t help but giggle slightly.

“I mean it!” she laughed, playfully slapping you on the arm. “Oh, there are a lot of cute ones out there though, aren’t there?” she simpered, her eyes turning big and doe-like once more. “Do you have your eye on any of them?” she asked curiously.

“Me? Oh, no,” you replied, shaking your head. “I’ve found that I’m much better off keeping to myself and doing my job at events like these,” you explained, biting down on your lower lip again.

“That’s nonsense!” Emily scoffed, almost looking offended on your behalf. “You’re beautiful! The boys here can’t stop looking at you!”

You grimaced slightly at that, face flushing in awkward embarrassment. The boys might be looking, but as soon as any of them tried to strike up a conversation, they quickly discovered what a shy, nervous little churchmouse you were, and their interest quickly faded.

You’d already fumbled clumsily over three flirtatious interactions with a sailor, a soldier, and a pilot. One poor Marine had even ended up with bright red punch spilled down the front of his uniform. You’d been mortified, and he’d been gracious, but you could tell he planned to stay as far away from you as possible for the rest of the night.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to meet somebody. In fact, you wanted that more than anything. Living with your sister and brother-in-law for these past few months had only solidified the yearning that had long since taken up residence in your heart, the aching desire to find someone to love and cherish—someone who would love and cherish you in return. But as soon as any nice, handsome, eligible man approached you, you suddenly found yourself wishing the earth would swallow you whole. Dottie was always telling you how smart and funny and sweet you were, but you never seemed to be able to show that to any man who talked to you. Instead, you clammed up like an oyster and stammered and stuttered over all your words. It was humiliating.

You’d learned to accept long ago that you weren’t the kind of girl who got asked to dance. You were the girl who handed out punch and offered kind smiles and volunteered to man the table alone so that the other girls could dance. Even your big sister’s prettiest party dress wouldn’t change that.

But you didn’t mind. It made you smile to see how excited all the other girls, like Emily and Marilyn, got when they were pulled out onto the dance floor, swept up in the arms of handsome strangers. You might not get to experience it yourself, but you enjoyed living vicariously through them.

Lost in your private reverie, you almost didn’t notice the handsome gentleman who approached you, his dark gaze fixed on you as opposed to Marilyn or Emily.

“Evenin’,” he smiled, tipping his hat respectfully. He looked to be an officer in the Navy, judging by his uniform.

“H-hello,” you stuttered shyly, mentally kicking yourself. All he’d done was wish you a good evening. There was no need to be nervous about that.

Your nervousness didn’t seem to be off-putting to him, however. In fact, he smiled even wider.

“Ensign Paul Trace,” he introduced himself, offering you his hand in a gentlemanly manner. Again, he didn’t seem to be disconcerted by the fact that you just stared dumbly at him for a moment.

Coming to your senses, you reached out and slipped your hand into his, shaking gently and telling him your name.

“A very pretty name,” he told you with a smile, which had you staring at your shoes and avoiding all eye contact. “And that’s a very pretty necklace you’ve got there,” he added. You could tell from your peripheral vision that he was indicating the pearls strung around your neck.

“Oh, th-thank you,” you murmured, tripping slightly over your words. You wanted to mention that they were a gift from your parents—anything to keep the conversation moving forward, as Dottie often reminded you—but the words got stuck in your throat.

“I’ve been meaning to buy my wife a necklace like that,” Ensign Trace said kindly, his smile friendly and warm.

Oh, thank goodness, you thought to yourself. He’s married. Strangely enough, the revelation was a relief. Knowing that he was a married man instantly put you at ease. He wasn’t trying to flirt or make time with you. He was just being nice. And that you could handle much more easily.

“I’m sure she would love that very much,” you smiled, lifting your chin slightly so that you could meet his gaze once more.

He grinned in a way that seemed to indicate that he was aware the pronouncement of his marital status had made you more comfortable. “I think she would, too. Maybe for her birthday,” he mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully and shooting you another good-natured grin.

“That sounds nice,” you nodded, feeling the familiar tug of anxiety that the conversation would lag. “Oh, would you like some punch?” you asked. As you reached out to grab him a glass, however, you accidentally tipped one over with your hand, spilling the sticky liquid across the table.

Ensign Trace immediately jumped to grab some napkins as you gasped, cheeks flaming as you rushed to fix the mess you’d made.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” you exclaimed, soaking up the punch with a handful of napkins. You felt the tips of your ears burning and you wanted nothing more than to flee the dance hall at that moment. “Did any of it get on you? I can go get some more napkins,” you stammered, trying to look anywhere but directly at him.

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” he insisted, shaking his head as he helped you sop up the juice. “I’m right as rain. Accidents happen,” he told you with a comforting smile.

“They should probably take me off punch duty,” you mumbled, tossing the soaked napkins into a garbage pail. “That’s the second glass I’ve spilled tonight.”

Ensign Trace just chuckled at that, gazing at you thoughtfully.

You grew even more self-conscious under his scrutiny, brushing your hair behind your ear and shifting nervously from foot to foot. He seemed to become aware of this, and held up a hand in atonement.

“I’m sorry, miss, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he apologized, taking a step back to put you more at ease. “I just—I just can’t help but think how perfect you’d be for a buddy of mine,” he laughed, grinning again. The man seemed incapable of going more than a few seconds without smiling.

Your heart plummeted at his comment, however. After your foolish display, you couldn’t help but suddenly feel like the butt of a joke. Why would this handsome officer’s friend have any interest in a klutz like you?

Your face must have given away your inner turmoil because Ensign Trace’s grin suddenly faltered and his eyes filled with a glow of compassionate awareness. “Oh, I’m not trying to make a joke, miss,” he told you earnestly, placing his hand over his heart. “I would never insult a lady like that.” His expression was open and sincere. “I really do have a friend who I think you’d get on with real well. He’s here tonight, too! He just—” He turned at that moment, peering around the room. “Well, he’s here somewhere!”

“It’s alright, Ensign Trace,” you told him with a small smile, holding out a fresh cup of punch for him.

“No, no, he really is here. Darn fool’s just gone off and—”

“If you find him, you can send him over for a glass of punch,” you suggested, having a feeling his friend would probably be much more interested in Emily or Marilyn anyway.

The naval officer looked at you seriously, nodding his head. “I’ll do that, miss. Have a nice night,” he said, tipping his hat once more before taking his punch and walking away, a rather determined look in his gait.

Sighing softly to yourself, you turned and went back to replenishing the glasses of punch, putting all thoughts of Ensign Trace’s mysterious buddy out of your mind.

Bob’s POV

“Where the hell did you go?” Paul demanded, punching Bob in the arm when he finally found him in the main foyer, near the front doors of the community center.

“Ow,” Bob frowned, rubbing his arm with a slight scowl. For all his congeniality, Paul also had one hell of a right hook and he wasn’t afraid to use it. “What was that for?”

“For being an idiot!” Paul exclaimed, shaking his head. The severity of his words was softened by the reluctant grin that slowly spread across his face. Natasha had always joked that Paul couldn’t stay mad at anyone for longer than the span of two breaths.

“I was just…getting some air,” Bob said lamely, giving his sore bicep one last quick rub and adjusting his glasses. Though he’d worn them for most of his life, the darn things never seemed to want to sit correctly on his face.

“Sure,” Paul shot back skeptically. He was the best, most supportive buddy a guy could ask for, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t quick to call Bob out when he felt he needed a swift kick in the pants.

“I—I was just—I said I’m not thirsty,” Bob explained, knowing before the words even left his mouth that it was a paltry excuse. “What does it matter?” he asked, trying hard not to conjure up in his mind’s eye the image of that vision of loveliness standing behind the punch table.

“What does it matter? I’ll tell you what it matters,” Paul declared, shoving his untouched glass of punch into Bob’s hand. “The girl who gave me that may very well be your future wife, Robert Floyd. And as your best friend and wingman, I’m not going to stand by and let you throw an opportunity like that away!”

Bob’s blue eyes widened at his friend’s impassioned speech and he stood silent for a moment or two, too dumbfounded to speak. Gazing down at the glass of punch in his hand, he cleared his throat and stammered, “You—you talked to her?”

“Yes, I talked to her,” Paul nodded emphatically. “Since you were too scared to do it,” he added with a teasing grin, nudging Bob’s other arm—the one he hadn’t punched. “Aw, she’s a doll, Robby. A real doll. Sweet as apple pie and timid as a rabbit. I know you’re scared to talk to her, but you’ve got no reason to be. Trust me when I say she’s probably more scared to talk to you,” he said gently, resting a hand on his shoulder.

Bob’s jaw fell open at that, flabbergasted. “She’s more—are you sure you talked to the right girl? The one in the dress with the pink flowers?” he questioned, hardly daring to believe a girl that beautiful would be scared to talk to anyone, least of all him.

“The very one,” Paul beamed. “You’ve got a good eye, Bobby Boy, because I’ve never met a girl more perfect for you in all my life,” he insisted, slapping Bob on the chest for good measure. “Go talk to her! Ask her to dance!”

“Aw, gosh, I don’t know, Paul,” Bob faltered, shaking his head and staring down at his feet. “She’s just so—and I’m so—and, well, we leave tomorrow,” he reminded him plaintively, as if it wasn’t something his best friend was already keenly aware of. “What’s the point in trying to get tangled up in something when we ship out in less than twelve hours?” He deflated slightly, tugging nervously on the cuff of his uniform jacket.

Paul sighed softly, nodding his head in understanding. “I get where you’re coming from, pal. I really do,” he said sincerely, lowering his voice as their conversation took a more serious turn. “Look, I don’t know what tomorrow’s gonna bring. I don’t know what the weeks and months and—hell—years ahead are gonna bring. And I’m not telling you to walk back in there and marry the girl. But if there’s anything we’ve learned these past few months, Robby, it’s that life turns on a damn dime. Not one of us knows when everything will go to hell. So we might as well enjoy the bits of heaven while we’ve got ’em, huh? Who’s to say that girl in there isn’t your little slice of heaven?”

Bob looked up and met his best friend’s dark gaze, seeing the sincerity shining there. Paul truly believed every word he said. And Bob couldn’t deny the way his words had stirred something deep inside his heart, a desire to make this night count—to make his life count—before he lost the chance forever.

“Go talk to her, Robby,” Paul told him encouragingly, patting his back with a firm hand. “At the very least, she’ll be a nice girl to dance with the night before we ship off. And who knows? At most, maybe she’s the girl who’ll turn your world upside down,” he grinned, winking pointedly.

“Well…” Bob stammered, the tips of his ears turning pink.

Paul chuckled, taking the glass of punch out of his hand. “Go,” he said again, lightly pushing his best friend in the direction of the dance hall.

Doing his very best not to stumble over his own two feet, Bob adjusted his uniform and straightened his tie, clearing his throat once, twice, three times before pushing open the doors, the brassy instruments of the band slamming him in the face once more as he reentered the hall. The notes blended together in a familiar fashion as Bob nervously crossed the room—he recognized it as ”Tuxedo Junction.” He’d always liked that one. His mother was a big fan of Glenn Miller and played his records all the time back home. Maybe he should take that as a good sign.

“Hello,” he murmured softly under his breath, ducking as he moved across the dance floor to avoid bumping into twirling couples. “My name’s Robert Floyd. Would you like to dance with me?” He scoffed at himself in frustration. “No, too stiff,” he decided. “Hiya, my name’s Bob. Care to dance?” he tried again. “No,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Too…stupid. Oh, God, I can’t do this,” he moaned, nearly turning on his heel right then and hightailing it out of there.

He was halted in his second attempt to flee, however, when he thought once more of Paul’s words.

“Gotta enjoy the bits of heaven while we’ve got ’em,” Bob echoed, taking a deep breath. “You can do this, Floyd. Quit being such a coward,” he chastised himself. He blushed crimson when he realized a couple of the older volunteers were staring at him, obviously having overheard his one-sided argument “Uh, ’scuse me,” he mumbled, hurrying off.

Craning his neck, he tried to scan the crowd, wondering if maybe the angel from the punch table had been relieved of her shift in the time he’d been hiding out like a scared little boy. But as his eyes alighted on the refreshment table, his heart squeezed painfully inside his chest.

There she was.

He wanted so badly to ask her to dance.

He was going to ask her to dance.

Oh, God, no. He couldn’t.

No, he could.

He couldn’t.

He stood there like a fool, floundering as he frantically went back and forth in his mind, wanting so desperately to overcome his fears and go talk to her.

She was right there.

If he could only muster up the nerve…

Your POV

“That Navy man you were chatting with was a real looker,” Marilyn grinned, sidling up beside you and nudging you surreptitiously as you fanned out a new stack of napkins on the refreshment table with nimble fingers.

“Yes, I suppose he was,” you nodded in agreement, cheeks warming slightly, as they were wont to do whenever discussions of attractive men took place.

“You suppose?” Marilyn teased, smirking salaciously. “He was gorgeous. I couldn’t take my eyes off him! Lucky you. I wish he’d asked me for some punch,” she pouted, fluffing her red locks.

“He’s married,” you clarified, feeling strangely defensive of the kind naval officer you’d just met, even after you’d made a fool of yourself in front of him.

“So?” the redhead asked, her eyes twinkling wickedly.

“Marilyn!” you gasped, horrified at her implication.

Marilyn threw back her head, laughing. “Oh, don’t get your nylons in a twist, I’m just teasing,” she told you, resting a hand on her slender waist. “Besides, there’s plenty of unmarried fish in this sea,” she dimpled, nodding towards the massive congregation of servicemen. “And I think it’s time I found myself one! You and Emily don’t mind keeping an eye on the table without me, do you?” she asked expectantly.

“Um, well, I don’t, but—”

“Great! Thanks, doll!” Marilyn beamed, blowing a kiss in your general direction and flouncing off towards the dance floor without a backwards glance.

“Where’s she going?” Emily asked, reappearing at your elbow with a new stack of punch glasses.

“Off to dance, it would seem,” you sighed softly, sharing a knowing glance with your friend. “I told her that I didn’t mind, but I’m sorry if you—”

“Don’t apologize,” Emily said, waving off your concern. “I don’t think anyone can stop Marilyn once she has her mind made up about something,” she added with a giggle.

“No, that’s true,” you agreed, smiling ruefully. Helping your friend fill the new glasses, you glanced over at her. “You can go dance, too. Emily. Really. It’s like I told you before—I don’t mind.”

“I’m not going to leave you here all by yourself!” Emily exclaimed, relentless in her determination not to abandon you. She was a good friend.

The crowd around the refreshment table slowly began to thin out as more and more couples made their way onto the dance floor, allured by the heady beat of the music and the intoxicating possibilities of what they might discover in one another’s arms.

Emily sighed softly as she tapped her feet along to the swing music. You were tempted to try to nudge her towards the dance floor for the third time, but you knew she’d just refuse, so you kept quiet. The two of you chatted softly, handing out glasses of punch to anyone who walked by and offering sweet words of thanks to the men.

“Oh, I love this song!” Emily cried out, clapping her hands excitedly as a young singer stepped up to the microphone and began crooning “The Way You Look Tonight,” wrapping her hands around the mic stand and accentuating each word.

The couples that had been kicking their feet frenetically and swinging their arms wildly on the dance floor gradually shifted into a slower, gentler rhythm, hands pressing against waists and cheeks resting upon shoulders as their bodies intertwined, allowing the romantic lyrics to wrap around them like a cozy shawl.

Emily began softly singing along, caught up in a dreamy haze as she watched the couples dancing with a gentle grin curving her lips.

You just smiled at how much your friend seemed to be enjoying herself, wiping up a small spill as you hummed quietly under your breath. You also loved this song.

“Excuse me, miss?” a masculine voice cut through the hazy silence, catching you off guard. Your head snapped up in surprise, and you found yourself looking into the eyes of a young Army corporal. He looked a little nervous, which only ratcheted up your own anxious feelings.

“Yes?” you murmured softly, cheeks growing warm despite yourself.

“I—” He cleared his throat slightly, shifting from foot to foot. “Well, um, I was just wondering if—”

Oh my goodness, you thought to yourself, butterflies batting their wings violently in your stomach. Is he going to ask me to dance?

The thought terrified you, but also filled you with a kind of giddy excitement. You’d never been asked to dance at any of the USO events. Was this finally your chance? Maybe Dottie had been right about tonight.

The soldier rubbed the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly. He looked so nervous, and you couldn’t help but find it endearing. “I was wondering if—do you think your friend would like to dance with me?” he finally asked, his gaze moving away from your face and landing on Emily.

You felt your heart sink like a stone.

Turning slightly, you caught sight of your friend, who was still swaying to the music, lost in her own little world. Of course this handsome soldier wanted to dance with Emily, your sweet, bubbly, extroverted friend. It shouldn’t have necessarily come as a surprise that he saw you as more of a gatekeeper than a viable dancer partner, but that didn’t make the reality of it hurt any less.

Pasting a bright smile on your face, you nodded your head, not missing the way the young man’s eyes lit up excitedly. “I’m sure she would love to,” you assured him, swallowing past the lump that had suddenly formed in your throat. “Her name is Emily,” you told him, fisting your hands in the folds of your dress and watching as he shyly approached her.

Emily looked surprised when the corporal tapped her on the shoulder, but she beamed immediately, offering him one of her megawatt smiles. You couldn’t hear their conversation from the angle where you were standing, but you saw him offer his hand to her, which she eagerly accepted. Seconds later, however, she tilted her head to catch your eye, a questioning look on her face.

“Go have fun,” you told her, waving her off with a delicate hand.

“Thank you!” she mouthed back, grinning happily as her new partner whisked her off onto the dance floor.

Lifting your chin and straightening your back, you did your best to focus on the tasks that were in front of you—rearranging the napkins, replenishing the punch bowl, filling the glasses. Never mind the fact that you were crumbling inside, feeling near tears.

Dottie was going to be so disappointed. The thought made you sad. Despite your big sister’s best efforts with your hair and make-up—even lending you her prettiest dress—it didn’t change the fact that her baby sister was a wilting wallflower, too shy to earn anyone’s attention.

It shouldn’t have bothered you as much as it did. You were used to remaining on the sidelines during dances. You always told everyone you were more comfortable that way.

You had just hoped tonight would be different.

Bob’s POV

Bob generally considered himself to be a pretty mild-mannered, level-headed guy. There wasn’t much that got his temper flaring, but as he watched that corporal waltz off towards the dance floor with one of the other girls who’d been working behind the punch table, he felt his hand instinctively curl into an angry fist, his nails biting sharply into his palm.

He’d been pacing back and forth a few feet away from the refreshment table, anxiously trying to work up the nerve to finally approach the angel in the pink and white dress, when he spotted the Army officer making his way straight towards her.

That’s what you get, Floyd, he thought to himself. You waited too long, like a coward, and now someone else is seizing the opportunity you missed.

Shoulders sagging in disappointment, Bob was about to turn and go find Paul to tell him that he was heading out early. There didn’t seem any point in staying any longer. He’d just return to base and finish the letter he’d been writing for his parents, then get some sleep and try to avoid dreaming about the reality that he’d be on his way to Europe tomorrow morning—and not for the Grand Tour, either.

Just as he’d determined to walk away without a backwards glance, however, a lull in the music allowed him to catch a snatch of the conversation happening behind him. He froze. He couldn’t have heard that right.

“I was wondering if—do you think your friend would like to dance with me?”

Bob’s mouth hung agape as he swung back around, certain he would find the soldier talking to some other girl. But no! He was talking to her!

He was talking to her and asking if he could dance with some other girl? What was wrong with him?!

“I’m sure she would love to,” came the soft reply, so soft, in fact, that Bob was surprised he could hear it at all. It was the first time he’d heard her speak—God, she even had a beautiful voice.

A beautiful voice that was very clearly trying to hold back tears.

Bob’s eyes narrowed behind his square, wire-framed glasses and he felt his pulse begin racing in his veins, a dark flush creeping up his neck and staining his cheeks. How big of an idiot could one guy be? How could that corporal see the stunning treasure that was standing before him and just toss her aside like yesterday’s newspaper? How could he be so unfeeling, to get a girl’s hopes up like that, only to choose her friend over her?

Taking a deep breath, Bob unclenched his fist and tore his gaze away from the moronic Army officer, turning his attention back to the one person who really deserved it.

He felt his heart sink like a stone.

She looked so sad. So crushed and defeated. He ached as he watched her put on a brave face and attend to the tasks set before her. Anyone else might have walked right by her and not even realized that anything was wrong, but not Bob. He knew. He could see it in her eyes, read it in her body language—the woundedness of being overlooked. Disregarded. Forgotten.

He knew what that felt like, and he hated to think that she did, too. He hated to think that she had spent one moment wondering what she could have done differently to make people take notice of her; that she had spent even a fraction of a second thinking that there was something wrong with her, something she needed to change. He hated to think that anyone had failed to make her feel as beautiful and special as he knew she was.

Maybe Paul had been right. Maybe she really was the one for him—his little slice of heaven right in the middle of hell.

Somewhere in the back of his consciousness, he became aware of the fact that the band was striking up another song. Keeping his blue gaze fixed on the beauty before him, he observed her lift her head and stare out at the dance floor, an honest and painful expression of yearning crossing her lovely features.

Bob actually had to look away in that moment, feeling like he was intruding upon her in her most private, intimate moment. Obviously she believed herself to be alone, he was sure of it. When he looked up again a few seconds later, too weak to tear his eyes away for long, he caught her brushing at one of her eyes.

He couldn’t stand there and let her hurt like that.

As nervous as he was to approach her, as terrified as he was to ask her to dance, Robert Floyd would never leave a lady all alone on the sidelines. No one deserved that, least of all her.

Breathing in a lungful of air, Bob started moving before his brain could try to stop him again, placing one foot in front of the other until he was finally standing right in front of the refreshment table.

She lifted her head in surprise and he cleared his throat nervously, trying not to get thrown by those gorgeous eyes staring up at him.

“Hello,” he smiled shyly.

Some opening, Floyd.

Your POV

You wanted to go home.

As much as you were trying not to let your interaction with the corporal get to you, the truth was that your feelings had been hurt and you weren’t sure how much more your battered pride could take. At the same time, however, you knew you were being ridiculous.

You came here tonight to volunteer, not to meet a husband, you mentally chided yourself. You can’t just up and leave now because your ego was wounded.

Clenching your jaw determinedly, you doubled down on your efforts to continue performing the duty you’d been tasked with for the night. As you wiped away sticky stains, straightened the tablecloth, and set out fresh glasses of punch, you forcibly quashed any feelings of self-pity that threatened to bubble to the surface against your will.

You were here in a strictly professional capacity. You were a volunteer, not some serviceman’s date.

So why had you allowed your hopes to peak when it seemed as though you might finally receive an invitation to dance? That had been a foolish mistake on your part.

Sighing softly under your breath, you nervously fidgeted with your hands, realizing there wasn’t much more you could do at the refreshment table until someone actually approached in search of some punch. Lifting your head, you took in the sight of all the happy couples on the dance floor with a broken smile. You didn’t begrudge a single one of them their excitement and joy, but oh, how you wished you could be out there among them, twirling around in the arms of a man who thought you were the bee’s knees.

Your heart yearned so acutely in that moment that it was almost a palpable ache, your body practically vibrating with a need that you couldn’t quite put into words. You pressed your hands to your chest, as if that could somehow stanch the desire that was throbbing in your heart—the desire to be seen, known, and loved exactly as you were.

Oh, stop it, you scolded yourself when you felt one fat, hot tear roll down your cheek unbidden. There’s certainly no need for tears.

Reaching up with delicate fingers, you carefully brushed away the tears that were pooling against your bottom lashes, not wanting to make a mess of the make-up Dottie had worked so diligently on.

So caught up in your own thoughts were you that you didn’t even notice the man who was approaching the table until he was suddenly standing before you, clearing his throat and smiling shyly.

A little startled, you looked up at him and felt your heart flutter softly against your ribcage. For some reason, the feeling reminded you of the pretty yellow canary that your family had kept when you were a little girl, its soft, delicate wings flapping gently within the confines of its gilded cage.

“Hello,” the young man—another officer in the Navy from the looks of it—greeted you. Was it your imagination that his voice trembled slightly? Even if it had, it didn’t matter. He had a nice voice, one that somehow managed to make you feel comfortable and at ease, even though he had only uttered one word.

“Hello,” you smiled back, your cheeks growing warm when you realized you were staring at him. You couldn’t help it. He had the most breathtaking blue eyes you had ever seen. It wasn’t just the color of his eyes that drew you in, however. It was the kindness and gentleness that you saw residing there, something that struck you as so utterly paradoxical in a man about to ship out to war. They were the most captivating eyes you had ever seen.

He just stood there for a moment, not saying anything, and you felt yourself start to grow nervous once more. You realized, at that moment, that he’d probably just come over to the table because he was thirsty. Not wanting to make the same mistake you’d made with the corporal in getting your hopes up, you quickly reached for a glass of punch and held it out to him, expecting him to thank you and be on his way.

“Oh,” he murmured, those blue eyes widening slightly behind his glasses. He shook his head, removing his hat and playing with it in his hands. “Oh, no, I didn’t—I mean to say that I wasn’t—I mean, I’m not thirsty,” he stammered, sounding a bit unsure of himself.

Not quite knowing what to say in response to that, you lowered the cup of punch back to the table, unable to tear your eyes away from him for more than a few seconds at a time. You noticed, as you gazed at him, that the tips of his ears were turning pink, as were his cheeks and the tip of his nose. Your heart did that strange little flutter once again, and you felt yourself drawn to him in the most inexplicable of ways.

You didn’t even know his name, and yet you knew this man was different from all the rest.

“I–I’m sorry, that must have sounded terribly rude,” he apologized, clearing his throat and putting his hat back on. “What I meant to say was—well, the reason I came over here was—would you, um, like to dance with me?”

It was your eyes that widened now, your heart fluttering more rapidly in your chest. You were reminded again of that tiny yellow canary, the one that had seemed to yearn so ardently for freedom from its little gilded cage.

“M-me?” you asked softly, pointing to yourself as if there was anyone else around for him to be talking about instead. “You want to dance with me?”

“I do,” he nodded, his cheeks growing even more pink, which you found incredibly endearing. “Very much so. I mean—um—only if you want to, that is,” he added hastily, seeming even more unsure of himself than before.

Never in your life had you ever seen your own shy heart so clearly reflected in the heart of another.

“I—I want to,” you told him with a little nod, a soft smile curving your lips. You couldn’t help but notice the look of relief that washed over his face, and it almost made you want to giggle with giddiness. But you didn’t want him to think you were laughing at him, so you swallowed it down. You hesitated for a moment, then shyly asked, “May I ask who’s asking?”

The young officer nearly smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. “I’m sorry, miss, where have my manners gone?” he asked, his voice lilting in a sweet midwestern accent. “I’m Robert Floyd. Um, Ensign Robert Floyd,” he amended, seeming to remember his rank at the last second. He held out his hand to you and you couldn’t help but notice how large and well-shaped it was. Was it odd to admire how lovely a man’s hands were? You’d have to ask Dottie about that.

Ensign. The same rank as the kindhearted Paul Trace. You suddenly recalled Ensign Trace’s comments about his friend who’d slipped away, the one he claimed you would be perfect for. This couldn’t possibly be—could it?

You told him your name as you slipped your hand into his warm, surprisingly soft palm, and shook gently. He echoed it, almost reverently, and it made you shiver in delight and feel your skin grow warm.

“I’m not normally one for dancing,” he confessed sheepishly, looking a bit embarrassed.

Feeling an almost instantaneous urge to comfort him, you hurried to reassure him. “Don’t worry. That makes two of us then,” you confided, offering him a bashful smile.

His face lit up at your words in one of the most beautiful, charming smiles you’d ever seen. “Should we give it a try then? They do say practice makes perfect,” he murmured with a soft chuckle, holding out his hand to you, this time with his palm upturned in an invitation to lead you out onto the dance floor.

Your heart fluttered in your chest for the third time, reminding you once again of the precious little canary from your girlhood—the canary that had wanted nothing more than to be free. One night, watching the pretty yellow bird flap its wings desperately against the bars of its cage, you made the choice to grant it the freedom it so desired, carrying it outside into the backyard and opening the cage, allowing it to spread its wings and soar.

Maybe tonight, you could let your heart be just as free as that yellow canary.

Lightly resting your hand in Ensign Floyd’s, you let out a hushed laugh and nodded shyly.

“Yes. Let’s give it a try.”

Bob’s POV

She said yes!

He could scarcely believe it, the whole thing feeling like a dream. It couldn’t possibly be real.

And yet, when she placed her hand in his, her hand so delicate and soft and solid against his palm, it dawned on him that their conversation had not just been a figment of his fantasy after all. This beautiful girl—sweet as apple pie and timid as a rabbit, just as Paul had described her—had really agreed to dance with him.

He felt like the luckiest man in the world.

Fingers closing gently over hers, he held her hand as she made her away around the refreshment table, the manicured fingers of her other hand brushing at an invisible wrinkle in her dress. He recognized it as a nervous tick. He did the same thing all the time when he was feeling shy or anxious—picking at an imaginary piece of lint or rubbing at a stain that wasn’t there; anything to make himself small and avoid feeling like people’s eyes were on him.

In that instant, he felt a deep sense of kindred connectedness to her. He’d met her only moments before, but he felt he knew her better than some people he’d known his whole life. Paul had seen it, too, and Bob was immediately flooded with a sense of gratitude that he’d listened to his bullheaded best friend.

Suddenly remembering Paul’s advice from earlier in the evening, he looked down at the lovely young woman whose fingers were intertwined with his and opened his mouth to say something, just as his glasses started to slide down his nose.

She looked up at that moment, and he could swear that the smile that lit up her face could stop traffic. Maybe if the War Department had used her likeness instead of Uncle Sam’s on their recruitment posters, more men would have been lining up to serve.

“You have a beautiful smile,” he told her, the words slipping out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Blushing, he pushed his glasses back up his nose, shoving them firmly against his face. The darn things refused to stay in place.

He heard her slight intake of breath, saw the way she ducked her head at his words, and for a moment he panicked that he’d said the wrong thing and turned her off. But then he spotted the shy, almost tentative smile touching her lips and he relaxed slightly. His words seemed to have more of an impact on her than he could have imagined.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice so sweet and light. It reminded him of the soft summer breezes back home. “So do you,” she added, blurting the words out just as he had done and then looking flustered.

Bob chuckled at that, pleasantly surprised by the compliment. He squeezed her hand ever so slightly, wordlessly letting her know that she had no reason to be embarrassed about what she’d said.

Just as they made their way onto the dance floor, Bob making sure to find them a spot that wasn’t too crowded, the singer in the blue gown made her way back up to the microphone, smiling out at the sea of couples as the band struck up a familiar Gershwin tune.

“Oh, I love this song,” she breathed out, looking up at him with bright eyes. She had the most gorgeous eyes he had ever seen, rimmed in dark lashes that kissed the tops of her cheeks whenever she blinked or lowered her gaze.

“I’m glad,” Bob murmured softly in response, his voice almost a whisper as he drank in the sight of her, standing so close to him that he thought his heart might jump straight out of his chest.

“There’s a saying old, says that love is blind,” the singer crooned, closing her eyes as she began warbling “Someone to Watch Over Me,” a song that Bob had heard many times without ever really listening to. After tonight, he thought it might just be his new favorite song.

She fidgeted subtly as she stood before him, twisting her hands in the folds of her dress, and it struck him that she was just as nervous as he was. She had, after all, admitted that she wasn’t much for dancing herself.

“Still we’re often told, seek and ye shall find. So I’m going to seek a certain lad I’ve had in mind…”

Clearing his throat and adjusting his glasses for what felt like the millionth time, Bob held out a hand to her, wanting to make her feel comfortable and at ease. His pulse hammered as she smiled at him again and gratefully slipped her hand into his, lifting her chin and meeting his eye.

“Looking everywhere, haven't found him yet. He's the big affair I cannot forget. Only man I ever think of with regret…”

Trying to quell the butterflies exploding in his stomach, Bob slowly reached out and placed his other hand on her waist, keeping his touch light and almost stiff. He didn’t want to presume any intimacies with her or scare her off.

“I'd like to add his initial to my monogram. Tell me, where is the shepherd for this lost lamb?”

After a moment’s hesitation, she raised her free hand and rested it on his shoulder, her touch just as sheepish and reticent as his. Anyone looking on might think that they looked tense and even a tad bit uncomfortable, their body language stiff and fumbling. But they were each dipping a toe into the water, trying to wade across the chasm and safely find a way to one another.

“There's a somebody I'm longin' to see. I hope that he turns out to be…someone who'll watch over me…”

As the chorus of the song reverberated throughout the room, they began slowly moving in rhythm with the music, swaying side to side as they gazed silently at one another. It wasn’t the anxious silence Bob so often experienced when he was trying to talk to someone new—it was the comfortable silence of two people who knew that words weren’t always what was most important.

“I'm a little lamb who's lost in the wood. I know I could always be good…to one who'll watch over me…”

It took him a second to realize that she was softly humming underneath her breath, her body relaxing in increments as the song went on. His was, too, he realized with some surprise. And he hadn’t stepped on her foot once. As he felt her hand start to melt into his shoulder, becoming almost an extension of his own body, his hand slowly slid around to her lower back, instinctively pulling her closer.

She followed his lead without hesitation.

“Although he may not be the man some girls think of as handsome, to my heart, he carries the key…”

“You have a real pretty voice,” he said softly, gazing down at her with a look of awe etched into his features.

Her eyes widened and she grinned sheepishly, as if a little embarrassed to have been caught humming. “How can you be sure? I wasn’t even singing,” she giggled, a sound that would be seared into his brain and his heart for the rest of his days, he was sure of it.

“Oh, I can tell,” Bob nodded sagely, grinning in return. “It’s lovely.” Just like you.

“Thank you,” she murmured, beaming. He felt a rush of pride that he’d been the one to put that smile on her face.

“Won't you tell him please to put on some speed. Follow my lead. Oh, how I need…someone to watch over me…”

As the song reached a crescendo, she suddenly leaned closer and rested her cheek against his shoulder, her eyes closing as they continued to sway to the beat of the music.

Bob had never wished for anything in his life the way he suddenly wished that time could stand still, his pulse stuttering in his veins as he held her close, resting his cheek against the top of her head as they moved almost in slow motion.

“Someone to watch over me.”

The music came to an end and the crowd burst into applause, but neither of them moved, holding onto one another even as the band struck up a new song.

Bob never wanted to let her go.

Your POV

You never wanted to let him go.

You had always considered “Someone to Watch Over Me” to be a perfect song, but now you realized it had one flaw—it was too short.

Though you’d admittedly been filled with trepidation when Ensign Floyd had first led you out onto the dance floor, you’d been shocked at the speed in which you found yourself growing more relaxed in his arms. The chivalry of his gestures, the gentleness of his touch, the kindness in his eyes and smile—you’d never felt more at ease with a man in your life, especially one you’d just met. Towards the end of the song, you’d even felt brave enough to rest against his chest, which somehow felt warm and comforting, even within the confines of his austere officer’s uniform.

So when the song sadly reached its conclusion, you found that you weren’t quite ready to let him go.

Much to your pleasant surprise, he seemed to feel the same way. Even as the band struck up a rendition of “Moonglow,” his hand remained resting firmly against the small of your back, holding you close to his chest in a way that set your heart racing faster than a freight train.

“I’ve always liked this song,” he murmured quietly as the two of you swayed from side to side, hardly moving at all as the music washed over you.

“Me, too,” you nodded with a smile, lifting your head off his shoulder so that you could gaze up into his piercing cerulean eyes once more. “My sister has a Jack Teagarden record, and this one has always been one of my favorites.”

“I had a feeling you were a girl with good taste,” he replied with a grin that made your stomach do a couple quick flips.

You giggled shyly at that, biting down on your lower lip. You’d always been terrible at flirting. Dottie always tried to give you tips, but you never knew what coquettish, cute things to say to gain and keep a man’s attention. If you were as witty as girls like Marilyn or Emily, you might be able to come up with some little quip to volley back at him, but as it was, you just smiled and rested your head on his shoulder once more.

Thankfully, Ensign Robert Floyd didn’t seem to be a man who minded. In fact, he didn’t seem to be a man who needed many words at all. The two of you were perfectly content to dance in companionable silence for the rest of “Moonglow,” and then for the next couple songs after that.

You knew the room was packed to the rafters with couples, but for a while, it felt like it was only the two of you, lost in your own blissful bubble. It was only when you felt someone bumping into you from behind that you were startled back to reality, turning your head to see another naval officer grinning at you. You instantly recognized the redhead in his arms. It looked like Marilyn had found herself one of those unmarried fish after all.

“Hey, buddy boy! Looks like you did find yourself a pretty girl after all,” the officer guffawed, winking at Robert and then smiling at you. “Has Floyd here been treating you well?” he asked teasingly. “I’ll have to report him to our superiors otherwise.”

Obviously the men were friends, but you still felt your cheeks growing warm as you lowered your gaze and stammered softly, “Oh, yes, very well.”

At the feel of Robert squeezing your hand gently, you looked up and caught his eye. He was smiling at you warmly, comfortingly.

“Good, good,” the other man went on, his expression open and friendly. “You know, this guy—”

“Okay, Benny,” Robert cut his fellow officer off, smiling sheepishly. “Good to see you. We’ll talk later, okay?”

“Okay, pal, okay. I can take a hint,” the man—Benny—nodded, winking over at Marilyn. “Come on, doll, we’ll give the kids some privacy,” he chuckled, twirling her away from you and your dance partner.

“Sorry about that,” Robert chuckled, shaking his head and flushing slightly. His glasses started to slide down his nose, and he quickly pushed them back up. You noticed that it was something that seemed to keep happening, and you thought it was adorable.

“I don’t mind,” you told him, smiling. “Friend of yours, obviously?”

“Yes,” he nodded, grinning fondly. “Former classmate, too. We went to Annapolis together. Commissioned at the same time,” he explained, spinning you gently in time with the music.

“Ah,” you nodded in understanding, glancing down at his uniform jacket before looking back up at his face again. “So you always wanted to be in the Navy then?” you asked curiously.

“Oh, yes,” he replied without missing a beat, the tilt of his head confident and firm. It was clear that this was something that meant a great deal to him. “My father is a captain in the Navy. He went to Annapolis, too, and served during the Great War. Or, I suppose I should call it the first world war now,” he said with a grimace. He cleared his throat slightly before continuing. “Anyway, I’ve always been proud of my father. He was awarded the Navy Cross for his service in the war, and he’s always been the most stand-up guy that I know. I guess I always just wanted to follow in his footsteps.”

You smiled warmly at that, touched by the obvious love that he felt for his father. “I’m sure he’s very proud of you,” you told him.

“I think so. I hope so, at least,” he laughed softly, his blue eyes settling on your face in an expression so soft that it made your heart ache slightly.

“My father served in the Army during the first world war,” you said, finding it easier and easier to make conversation as the moments slipped by. “He doesn’t like to talk about it much.”

“That’s fair,” Robert replied solemnly, his eyes glowing with understanding. “I don’t think it’s an easy thing for anyone to talk about.” A pregnant silence fell between the two of you for a few moments, unspoken words hanging delicately in the air. He finally broke the silence with a bashful grin. “Army, huh? Maybe we shouldn’t be seen together then. The Army and the Navy are notorious rivals,” he joked.

A surprised laugh burst from your mouth at his words, your eyes crinkling in the corners as you smiled wide. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” you teased in return.

The two of you stood there, no longer swaying with the music, but simply smiling at one another, still wrapped together in each other’s arms.

A thought seemed to strike him as he gazed down at you, but whatever it was must have made him nervous, because he suddenly averted his eyes and started clearing his throat again, looking as shy as he had when he first approached you.

“Um, say,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck and staring at a point just over your shoulder, as if too afraid to look directly in your eyes. “I hope this doesn’t seem too forward or anything, but I was just wondering—do you think you’d maybe like to take a walk with me?”

“Tonight?” you asked, raising your eyebrows as you looked up at him. Your pulse quickened at the notion.

“Um, well, yes,” he nodded, his cheeks turning a dark shade of red. His glasses even seemed to be fogging up slightly.

You bit your lower lip, glancing around the room. “Well, it’s just that I’m a volunteer with the USO. I don’t think I can leave until my shift is over,” you explained, stepping back and twisting your fingers together.

“Oh, of course,” Robert mumbled, deflating slightly. You hated the look of defeat in his expression. “I understand. Thank you for the dances. I’m sorry if I—”

“My shift is over at ten o’ clock,” you hastened to interject, not wanting him to get the impression that you weren’t interested. You had never been more interested in your life. “I know you’ll have to be getting back to your base, but maybe—”

“Oh, that’s perfect,” he cut in, the two of you pausing and laughing bashfully at his enthusiasm. “Ten o’clock works just fine,” he grinned.

“Okay,” you beamed, feeling your own cheeks grow warm as he smiled at you. “I’ll just go help clean up a little bit. Should I meet you by the front doors at ten?”

“That sounds perfect,” he agreed, his expression bright and uplifted once more.

“Okay,” you said again, finding it hard to get your feet to move in the direction you needed them to.

“Okay,” he echoed, continuing to stand there as well, a foot or two away from you.

The both of you laughed sheepishly when you realized neither of you had moved, each of you looking away shyly.

“Alright, I’ll see you soon then, Ensign Floyd,” you murmured, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear.

“Please, it’s Robert. Or Bob. Lots of people call me Bob,” he amended.

“What about Bobby?” The question popped out of your mouth before the thought had even been fully formed in your mind. You had no idea what on earth had possessed you to ask it.

He smiled at your question. “No, no one really calls me that. It’s usually either Bob or Robby, depending on who it is,” he explained. He paused for a moment, thoughtful, then added, “But you can call me Bobby.”

Your cheeks, which had just been starting to cool down, grew instantly hot at his words, which gave you more of a rush than they had any right to.

“Okay,” you nodded, the tiniest of smiles curving your lips. “I’ll see you soon then, Bobby.”

Bob’s POV

Bob felt like he was floating on air as he made his way across the dance floor, spotting his friends near the doors through which they’d entered the large hall.

She was without a doubt the most extraordinary woman he had ever met. Beautiful, sweet, kind, thoughtful—an angel, just as he had thought from the very beginning. And she actually seemed to like him! What kind of lucky star had he fallen under tonight? Whatever it was, he hoped that the pixie dust from it didn’t wear off anytime soon.

As he got closer to the gathered members of his squadron, he noticed that the redhead Benny had been dancing with was still firmly attached to his side. Tommy Boy had a stunning blonde on his arm—though Bob would argue she was nowhere near as gorgeous as his girl—and most of the other guys had pretty young things draped around them as well.

The only member of the group, in fact, who was standing on his own was Paul. Bob could tell that behind his best friend’s happy-go-lucky smile, there was a tinge of sadness. He knew that Paul wished more than anything that he could be holding Natasha right now. That was, Bob realized with painful clarity, the cost of loving someone so much.

“Hey, there he is!” Benny exclaimed with a cheerful grin when he turned and caught sight of Bob. “Floyd! The man of the hour! Where’s your pretty date?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows and ignoring the way the redhead smacked his chest with a huff.

Bob blushed at Benny’s choice of words, pushing his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose with his pointer finger.

He was saved from answering Benny’s question directly when Tommy Boy cut in, grinning smugly. “See? I told you it was a good idea for you to come to the dance with us tonight, didn’t I?” He chuckled, slapping Bob good-naturedly on the arm. “We’re all getting ready to head out to The Tropicana Room,” he went on, referring to a nightclub downtown that their squadron had frequented a couple times in the past. “You’ll come with us, won’t you? Bring your pretty date,” he added with a knowing smirk.

“Oh, well, um, actually I was just coming to let you guys know that I’m going to be going for a walk with, um—with my—”

“Your date?” Benny drawled slowly, grinning impishly. “A walk, huh? Is that what they’re calling it now?” he teased with a mischievous laugh.

“Oh, shut up, Benny,” Paul interjected, his tone friendly, but firm enough to let Benny know that he meant it. Their fellow officer put a lid on it immediately.

“That sounds real nice, Bob,” Tommy Boy jumped back in, nodding at him with an encouraging smile. For a guy as popular and handsome as Tom, a guy who could have any woman he wanted without lifting a finger, he really was one of the nicest and most supportive friends a guy like Bob could ask for. “So we’ll see you back at base then?”

Bob nodded, having a feeling some of his friends would be out much later than he expected to be. “I’ll see you back at base. Have fun at The Tropicana Room,” he told them all with a little wave.

Paul hung back as the rest of their group began making their way out of the dance hall, loudly laughing and letting out whoops of excitement as they headed into the final stretch of their last night stateside. At his knowing smile, which teetered right on the edge of being smug, Bob chuckled and held up his hands in surrender.

“Alright, alright. I can admit when you’re right,” Bob said, shaking his head with a good-humored smile. “Thank you for pushing me to go talk to her. She’s—she’s amazing, Paul,” he gushed, still in awe. “What you said—you know, about her maybe being the girl for me? I—I don’t know, Paul. I think you might have actually been right.”

“When am I not right?” Paul smirked, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “Ah, I’m just kidding. But I am happy for you, Robby,” he told him sincerely. “You deserve a nice girl. And wait until I write and tell Nat that it was me who helped you find her,” he grinned.

Bob laughed, jokingly pushing his friend away from him. “Okay, sure, take all the credit. I am the one who asked her to dance, you know,” he playfully shot back.

“At my insistence,” Paul emphasized, winking. He glanced over his shoulder for a moment, then asked, “Leaving soon then?”

“At ten, when her volunteer shift ends,” Bob explained, glancing across the room and spotting her helping to clean up at the refreshment table where he’d first spotted her. His heart warmed at the sight.

“Have fun, buddy. I mean it. You really do deserve it,” Paul said, more seriously this time.

“Thank you, Paul,” Bob replied. “Are you going to The Tropicana Room with the others?”

“I’ll probably swing by for a quick drink,” Paul told him with a shrug. “Maybe it’ll take my mind off how much I miss Nat and the kids, at least for a little while,” he added, a touch of melancholy in his voice.

“You’ll see them again soon,” Bob said quietly, patting his friend’s shoulder. “And they’re always with you,” he added comfortingly, tapping the pocket where he knew Paul was carrying his family photograph.

“Yeah,” Paul nodded, forcing himself to smile once more. “You’re right. Have fun, Robby. I’ll see you back at base,” he said, holding his hand out to give Bob a quick shake.

“See you later,” Bob nodded, firmly shaking Paul’s hand before he, too, slipped out of the dance hall.

Figuring a little fresh air would do him some good, and since there had been an arrangement to meet by the front doors anyway, Bob slipped out of the dance hall and made his way through the foyer of the community center. Evidently some of the USO volunteers had also determined that some fresh spring air would do everyone some good, for some of them had propped the front doors open, revealing an inky black Charleston sky peppered with stars.

Stepping up to the doorway, Bob dragged in a lungful of the balmy air, grinning up at the sky. Not for the first time in the past hour or so, he found himself eternally grateful that he’d listened to his friends, particularly Paul, and come to the dance tonight. The reality of his deployment still hung heavy in the back of his mind, but for this brief, blissful moment in time, he was giving himself over to the joy he felt bubbling up inside his chest.

So enamored was he of the warm southern air and the happy thoughts filling his mind that he lost all sense of time until he felt a gentle finger tapping him on the shoulder. Turning around, he felt his heart squeeze inside his chest when he took in the sight of her standing before him, a sweater draped over her arm and her purse in her hand.

“Ready, Bobby?” she asked with a shy grin.

With her, he felt ready for anything.

Your POV

When Bob informed you that he was originally from Iowa and that this was his first time being in Charleston, you immediately suggested taking your stroll down King Street, one of the most historic and lively streets in the whole city.

The street was bustling and busy almost every night of the week, but this Saturday night in particular, it was practically bursting at the seams. Servicemen from all branches of the military took to the streets in droves, most with a girl or two on each arm, all of them looking for a good time as the reality of a global war loomed heavily over everyone.

Robert—or Bobby, as you were giddily becoming accustomed to calling him—had been a perfect gentleman when you’d left the community center, carefully draping your sweater over your shoulders and offering you his arm, which you’d happily accepted. As the two of you walked along, you pointed out different sites and interesting spots to him, all of which he drank in eagerly, as if every word that fell from your lips was a fascinating treasure. No one had ever made you feel that way before—it was a heady sensation.

“So you’ve lived in Charleston all your life then?” Bobby asked interestedly, his warm fingers coming to rest over yours where they lay in the crook of his elbow.

“Oh, no,” you told him, shaking your head with a smile. “I’ve actually only been living here for the last five months,” you confessed, which seemed to surprise him. “I’m originally from Georgia.”

“You don’t say!” he exclaimed, smiling down at you. “They’re known for their peaches down in Georgia, aren’t they?”

“They are,” you giggled, nodding your head. “We have very sweet peaches back home.”

“Makes sense that you’d be from there then” he mused softly. When you looked up at him with a curious expression, he explained, “You’re as sweet and pretty as a Georgia peach.” He blushed at his own words, perhaps worried that you’d find his comment too hokey.

You thought it was wonderful. Just like him.

“Thank you, Bobby,” you smiled, lowering your eyes demurely.

He smiled in return, and you heard the soft sigh of relief he let out under his breath. “So what brought you to Charleston from Georgia then? If you don’t mind me asking,” he added quickly.

“My sister,” you replied with a smile. “Her name is Dorothy, but everyone calls her Dottie. She and her husband moved to Charleston after they got married, and she just had her first baby back in December. My nephew,” you added with a proud and affectionate grin. “His name is Frankie—well, Francis, but we call him Frankie. He’ll be five months old in just a few days.” You could scarcely believe it. “To answer your question, I moved to Charleston not long after Frankie was born. He came just a week after the attack at Pearl Harbor,” you explained, sobering slightly.

Bobby let out a soft hum in response to your words, his eyes flickering with emotion. Pearl Harbor had been a naval base, which must have made the attack feel all the more personal to him.

“My brother-in-law is a naval engineer,” you went on, eyes twinkling softly. “So I do have a connection to the Navy after all,” you told him teasingly. “When we entered the war, his work hours doubled overnight, and it became really tough for Dottie, trying to care for Frankie and the house all on her own. So I offered to come stay with her to help out.”

“I’m not surprised by that at all,” Bobby said with a tender smile, squeezing your fingers lightly. “You seem to be a very good volunteer.”

You flushed at his compliment, sheepishly trying to brush off his words of praise. “I’m afraid it was purely selfish on my part. I missed my sister terribly, and was desperate to spend time with my new nephew,” you laughed.

“Sounds like it was a win-win for all of you,” Bobby chuckled. He gazed down at you curiously. “Where does your brother-in-law work?”

“He works mainly at the naval air station in Goose Creek. It’s only about thirty minutes away from here,” you replied.

“That’s where I’ve been stationed!” Bobby said brightly. “What’s his name? Not to say that I know him, but it’s always possible.”

“What a small world!” you noted. It made sense that Bobby would be stationed in Goose Creek, so you weren’t sure why you were so surprised, but it was a funny coincidence all the same. “His name is Patrick Sheridan, but everyone calls him Paddy.”

“No kidding!” Bobby gaped, eyes wide. “You’re Paddy Sheridan’s sister-in-law?”

“You do know him?” you gasped, your eyes widening as well. Then you laughed. “I shouldn’t be surprised. Everyone knows Paddy,” you grinned, your heart warming at the thought of your jovial brother-in-law, who had become more like a big brother to you over the years.

“Aw, he’s a great guy,” Bobby insisted, smiling from ear to ear. “He’s played cards with us fellas a few times on our lunch breaks. What a personality. Your sister must be some firecracker to put up with him,” he joked. Then his smile faltered slightly. “Oh, I didn’t mean to offend—”

You cut him off with a wave of your hand, laughing. “No, you’re right. Trust me, if you think Paddy is a handful, your head would spin if you met Dottie. They’re quite the pair,” you giggled, covering your mouth with your hand.

Bobby laughed, grinning thoughtfully down at you. He was quiet for a moment before saying, “I can tell how much you love them from the way you talk about them. Your whole face lights up.”

You smiled warmly at that, your eyes meeting his. “I do love them. Very much. I’m glad to have this time with them.”

“I’m glad for you. Family is important,” Bobby nodded, pressing himself a little bit closer to you as a cool evening breeze passed by.

“Would you tell me about your family?” you asked shyly, not wanting to press him.

He did. As you continued your peaceful stroll down King Street, he told you all about his life back in Iowa, about his family’s farm and his hardworking parents and his two little brothers who were still in grade school. He told you about all the things he missed from home—home cooked meals with his family around the dinner table his great-grandfather had made, his mother’s sweet tea, long chats with his father on the porch in the evening, playing with his brothers and their family dog.

“I can tell you love your family, too,” you told him, echoing his words from earlier. “They sound very special.”

“They are,” Bobby nodded, a soft, almost faraway smile on his face. “It’s nice having Paul with me at least. Feels like a little piece of home,” he said.

“Paul?” you asked curiously.

“Paul Trace,” he explained. “He and I have been best friends since we were kids. We went to the Naval Academy together, and now we’re flying together, too.”

“Oh!” you gasped, eyes sparking in remembrance. So you had been right about his connection to Ensign Paul Trace! “I met him earlier tonight. He seems very kind. He was talking to me about buying his wife a set of pearls like mine,” you said, fingering your necklace.

Bobby grinned at that. “Sounds about right. He adores his wife, Natasha. She grew up with us, too. They’re childhood sweethearts.”

“How romantic,” you sighed softly, smiling at the thought.

“They have two children. Clara is three and Paul, Jr. is only about a month older than your nephew, Frankie,” he told you.

“Oh, I’m sure he must miss them all terribly,” you murmured sympathetically.

“He does,” Bobby nodded, his smile slipping. “I try to remind him that it’ll all be alright in the end. That he’ll see them again soon. But I know I’m one to talk. No wife, no kids.”

“But that doesn’t mean you don’t have people you love. People you’ll miss,” you assured him, squeezing his arm gently. “I’m sure he appreciates you very much, and is just as grateful to be stationed with you as you are to be stationed with him.”

“Thank you,” Bobby whispered, looking touched by your words. “I know he’ll always have my back, and I’ll always have his. Literally. I’m his rear-seater,” he chuckled.

You grinned. “And what does that mean exactly, in layman’s terms?” you asked with a giggle.

Bobby laughed sheepishly. “Of course. I’m sorry. We’re fighter pilots for the Navy. Paul and I fly together in a double-seat aircraft—he sits up front and I sit in the rear, handling the radio and the guns.”

“Sounds dangerous,” you murmured, suddenly feeling frightened for him. You’d known since you met him that he was going off to war, but somehow hearing a description of what his job actually entailed had your stomach turning sour.

“It is,” Bobby admitted, the smile gone from his face as he looked down at you. “But we’ve been well-trained. And I trust Paul with my life.”

You nodded, not saying anything as you lowered your head.

“Hey,” Bobby said suddenly, drawing your attention upwards once more as he pointed to a storefront across the street. “What do you say to some ice cream?”

Smiling slowly, you nodded in response.

Ten minutes later, the two of you resumed your stroll down King Street, two large ice cream cones in hand. Bobby had opted for classic vanilla with chocolate sprinkles, while you’d gone with chocolate ice cream and rainbow sprinkles.

“Wait, wait, so why do you all call him Tommy Boy?” you asked with a laugh. Bobby had started telling you about his other friends from his squadron while you were in the ice cream parlor, and you were still seeking some clarification.

Bobby laughed as well, licking up the ice cream that was starting to melt down the side of his cone. “Honestly? I can’t even remember. His name is Thomas, so we all naturally started calling him Tom. Then Tom turned into Tommy. And somewhere along the line it transformed into Tommy Boy. Now that’s what everyone calls him, and I guess we’ve never thought much of it,” he admitted with a grin.

“And Benny is the one we bumped into on the dance floor?” you questioned, licking your ice cream quickly so that it wouldn’t drip onto Dottie’s dress.

“Yes. Loudmouth Benny. One of my roommates at Annapolis,” Bobby chortled, shaking his head with obvious affection for his friend.

“I know the girl he was dancing with,” you said, glancing up at him. “She’s a talker, too, so they’re very well matched,” you giggled.

“Oh, good,” Bobby grinned. “A perfect way for Benny to spend his last night stateside.”

“Last night?” you repeated, startled. Suddenly, in the back of your mind, you recalled something Marilyn had been saying about a squadron of officers who were spending their last night on American soil at the USO dance. You felt your stomach drop.

Bobby sobered immediately, realizing what he’d said. “I–I’m sorry,” he apologized instantaneously, lowering his ice cream cone. “I should have said something earlier. I just—would you like to sit down for a minute?” he asked, indicating an open bench just a few feet away.

Nodding wordlessly, you followed him over to the wrought iron bench and took a seat, the blood rushing in your ears and your heart suddenly pounding painfully in your chest.

He said your name softly, waiting until you turned your head and looked up at him. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you tonight was my last night in town. I don’t know why I didn’t. I guess I just…didn’t know how,” he admitted slowly. “We’ve been having such a wonderful time—or at least, I have—and I guess I didn’t want to ruin that. But that was selfish of me. I’m sorry.”

You were quiet for a moment, absorbing his words. “You don’t have to be sorry, Bobby,” you said softly, staring down at your lap. “I’m not upset that you didn’t say anything about it. I just—I wasn’t expecting you to have to leave already,” you murmured, feeling tears pricking the backs of your eyes.

Oh, how embarrassing. You couldn’t cry in front of him. You’d just met him! He’d think you were insane if you started crying over losing him already.

But you were losing him. The first man you’d ever met who made you feel safe enough to come out of your shell, and he would be gone by morning light. Fate could be so unkind sometimes.

“I’m—I’m so sorry,” he said again, reaching out with a tentative hand and lightly brushing his thumb across your cheek. His touch was so gentle that it made you want to weep. “I’ve been preparing to ship out for weeks now. And I thought I was ready. I really did. But now—meeting you tonight—now I wish I didn’t have to go,” he whispered, leaning in closer to you.

A soft sob caught in your throat at his words. “I know it sounds so silly, but I feel as if I’ve known you for longer than just one night,” you confessed, biting down on your lower lip.

“I feel the same way,” Bobby breathed out, making your heart ache all the more. “I—I don’t want to presume anything, and I probably don’t deserve it after not even telling you the whole truth, but do you think—would it be alright if I wrote to you?”

You let out a soft little gasp at his words, eyes widening. He wanted to write to you? You?

“You don’t have to say yes,” Bobby stammered, blushing furiously. “I understand if you don’t want me to. I just—I’ve enjoyed getting to know you so much, and I hate thinking that I’ll never get to talk to you again after tonight and I was just hoping that maybe, if you don’t mind, we could maybe write to each other sometimes while I’m away,” he rambled, growing breathless.

“Yes,” you told him, nodding your head vigorously.

“Y-yes?” he asked, blue eyes widening behind his square glasses.

“Yes,” you repeated, laughing softly. “Yes, I would like that very much, Bobby.”

He looked as if he might fall over, his eyes as wide as saucers and his mouth hanging open. You had to bite back a laugh as the butterflies danced in your stomach.

“I’ll be staying with Dottie and Paddy for the foreseeable future, so I’ll give you their address, if that’s alright?” you asked, biting your lip.

“Of course! Of course that’s alright,” Bob agreed enthusiastically. “I just need to get you some—oh, gosh, I need some paper,” he scrambled, searching in his pockets with the hand that wasn’t holding his ice cream cone. The look on his face told you that he was coming up empty.

“Wait a second,” you told him, an idea suddenly sparking in your mind. You carefully tore off the paper that was wrapped around your ice cream cone, spreading it out on your lap. “Would you mind holding this for a moment?” you asked, holding your cone up to him. He took it instantly without complaint.

Reaching into your purse, you found the short little pencil stub that you thankfully hadn’t taken out. Flattening out the ice cream cone wrapper with your fingertips, you carefully wrote out your full name, as well as your sister’s address, in a clear hand.

“Here you go,” you told him with a smile, holding out the paper and taking your ice cream cone back from him.

Bobby looked down at that little piece of paper as if it was a priceless treasure map, carefully slipping it into the breast pocket of his uniform jacket. “Thank you,” he murmured, putting his hand over it. “As soon as I get to where I’m going, I’ll write you and let you know how you can get in touch with me. If you still want to, that is,” he hastily added.

“I’ll want to,” you assured him with a smile, scooting a little closer to him on the bench.

The two of you sat side by side, eating the rest of your ice cream in comfortable silence. You rested your free hand down on the edge of the bench between the two of you, your manicured fingers curling around the wrought iron. A few seconds later, Bobby’s hand was resting next to yours, his pinky finger brushing lightly against yours, which caused goosebumps to rise on your skin.

Suddenly, the sound of either a radio or someone’s record player began trickling down onto the street from one of the open windows above. You recognized the tune almost instantly as Glenn Miller and his orchestra’s version of “A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square.”

“I love Glenn Miller,” you said aloud, smiling.

Bobby smiled, turning his head to look at you. “So does my mom. She plays his records all the time.” At that, he stood from his spot on the bench, brushing the remnants of crumbs from his ice cream cone off his hands and pants. Then he held his hand out to you. “Would you like to dance?”

You looked up in surprise, your heart fluttering. “I thought you said you weren’t much for dancing,” you smiled.

“I’m not,” Bobby shrugged. “But for you, I’m happy to make an exception,” he beamed brightly.

With a bashful giggle, you rose and accepted his proffered hand, allowing him to hold you close as the two of you finished your evening together the same way you’d begun it—dancing in each other’s arms. It didn’t matter to you that you were swaying in the middle of the sidewalk to the muted sound of someone’s record player as opposed to on the dance floor to the accompaniment of a big band. All that mattered was the way he made you feel and the way you felt your heart blazing to life inside your chest.

All too soon, the song came to an end and Bobby pulled back slightly, gazing down at you.

“I should get you home,” he whispered, a tinge of regret coloring his voice.

You nodded, biting back a sigh as you slipped your arm through his once more, pointing him in the direction of your sister’s house.

There was still so much more to be said, so much more to be learned, but you and Bobby opted for a peaceful silence instead. You knew he wouldn’t have much peace and quiet in the weeks and months ahead, so you wanted to give that to him on his last night.

All too soon, you were standing outside Dottie and Paddy’s house, the lights still on in the front room. Your sister had given you full license to stay out, but you knew that didn’t mean that she and Paddy weren’t going to be sitting up waiting for you.

“This is me,” you murmured, a little sadly. You looked up at him, wanting to get to memorize his face one last time, especially those beautiful blue eyes. “I had such a wonderful time tonight. Thank you, Bobby.”

“No, thank you,” he replied, reaching out and taking one of your hands in his. “Thank you for everything. This was the best last night I ever could have hoped for.”

You smiled wistfully at that, wanting to hug him or give him some proper goodbye, but not wanting to come across as too forward. The two of you just stood staring at each other for a few minutes, both of you too shy to move or say anything.

“I promise I’ll write,” he finally told you, patting the pocket where he’d slipped your address.

“And I promise I’ll write back,” you vowed, twisting your hand in the pleats of your dress.

“Good night” he breathed softly, reaching out to lightly touch your cheek.

“Good night, Bobby,” you whispered back, feeling a small crack form in the crevice of your heart.

He hesitated a moment, looking as if there was something more he wanted to say—or do. “Can—c-can I kiss you?” he asked shyly, his blush evident even in the moonlight.

When you nodded slowly, he leaned in close and brushed his lips against your cheek in a kiss so soft and chaste that you felt tears forming against your lashes. “Goodbye,” he murmured against your ear, pulling back respectfully.

Thinking of the words he said he often shared with Paul, you smiled at him. “We’ll see each other again, Bobby.”

He smiled at that. “I certainly hope so.”

Bobby watched as you made your way to the front of the house, pulling your keys out of your purse and unlocking the door. You turned and waved. He waved back.

Stepping inside and closing the door behind you suddenly felt like the hardest thing you’d ever had to do.

Before you even had time to process any of what had just happened, Dottie suddenly came bounding in from the family room, looking like a cat who got the cream.

“Who was that?” she demanded eagerly, wrapping her arms around you and squeezing tightly.

“Dottie! Were you spying on me?” you gaped, your cheeks growing hot in embarrassment.

Your older sister threw back her head, laughing. “Of course I was!” she told you. “Paddy!” she called over her shoulder. “Put on a kettle for some tea!” Turning back to you, she grinned excitedly and cupped your face in her hands. “I want to hear all about your night!”

For once, you finally had a story to tell.

Bob’s POV

Bob had never quite known what it was to both ache and rejoice in equal measure, but now he did. As he strolled away from the Sheridan residence, hands in his pockets, his heart ached at the possibility of never getting to see that beautiful face again. Yet at the same time, he rejoiced at the wonder of getting to meet her, of getting to hear her laugh and make her smile.

Even more, he rejoiced at the little scrap of paper pressed against his heart, the paper that reminded him of the endless possibilities that lay ahead. He was leaving her, that was true, but maybe, just maybe, there was a chance that he could carry her with him through it all—a little slice of heaven in the midst of hell.

Smiling brightly as he strolled the streets of Charleston for the last time, Bob began penning his first letter to her in his heart.

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #x reader #x female reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #lewis pullman #WWII AU #1940s AU

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