#fist bench miniseries

[steponmeinejghafa]

First Bench Pt. 3

Summary: You and Zoya meet for tutoring, and another teacher throws you both together again.

First Part

Second Part

———————————————————————

Six p.m. You dreaded the hour as it crept closer. Naturally not wanting Zoya to one-up you, you had arrived ten minutes early. The only table which wasn’t occupied was in a dusty corner at the back of the library, and you’d taken out your heavily annotated textbook to read before she arrived.

Someone whacked you on the back of your head, and you instantly snapped back to elbow them in the ribs.

“Ow!” Zoya exclaimed with a scowl as she sat beside you. “You’re a little savage, aren’t you?”

You rolled your eyes, “Never do that again or I’ll personally make sure you can never walk again, Nazyalensky,”

“Whatever, Brekker,” she scoffed. “So, we’ll be covering math today thanks to your abysmal performance in the last few tests,”

“Don’t have to rub it in,” you grumbled.

She raised a brow and said cockily, “What, that I’m smarter than you?”

You clenched your fist underneath the table. She was getting on your nerves now.

“Did you come here to tutor me or to gloat?” You snarled, a frown scrunching your brows together.

You were adorable when you got riled up…

Zoya laughed cockily and shook her head, opening out her equally heavily annotated math book.

“Alright, Brekker, let me dumb it down for you…”

—Time Skip—

Kaz wasn’t getting any better, and the doctor was talking about another week of bed rest, since the fever your brother had gotten had made his leg worse.

“He says I have to use the cane more,” your brother confided that evening as you sat with him playing cards to keep him entertained.

You sighed softly and patted his hand lovingly. “It’s for your own good.”

“I know,” he scowled. “But come on. I’m in high school and I’m using a cane. Think of how I’ll be bullied.”

You shrugged, “I know a guy who can make it badass for you.”

His eyes lit up. “Really?”

You nodded and smiled. “Really.”

He gently punched your shoulder good-naturedly. “You’re a good sister, Y/n.”

“Okay, no need to bust out the compliments yet, little brother,” you scoffed with a laugh. “You’re not dying.”

“First of all, we’re twins and you’re like, twelve minutes older than me,” he rolled his eyes. “And way to ruin an emotional moment, dumbass.”

“I have the emotional capacity of a toothpick,” you admitted. “So expect nothing from me.”

As much as you hated to admit it, tutoring with Zoya was helping. You were slowly regaining your position at the top of the class, and, suspecting that Zoya might sabotage you in some way, you made sure to study extra after she’d leave the library for the evening so that you could get a head start.

Obviously you’d never tell her that it was helping. She’d never let you hear the end of it.

“Had fun struggling in the test?” She asked snidely, referring to the stack of test papers on the teacher’s desk.

“Had fun getting lesser marks than me?” You asked, picking up your own paper from the pile.

“Pardon me, but who’s the one getting tutored?” She smirked, holding up her history paper which bore the score 49/50 in bold red letters.

You laughed, mimicking her cocky tone as you showed your own paper, which had 50/50 written with red and a good remark from the teacher beside it. “Pardon me, but who’s the one getting a full score?”

“Fuck you, Brekker,” she grumbled, her ears burning with irritation as you went to sit with Jesper and Nina.

“In your dreams, Nazyalensky,” you cackled, fist-bumping your two best friends.

“You know, I’m sensing some sexual tension,” admitted Jesper, nodding at Zoya.

Nina chuckled and nodded in agreement. “Yeah. The flirting is a bit much, don’t you think?”

Your ears burned with a blush as you shook your head. “Absolutely not! She is a cocky, arrogant annoying, and irritatingly attractive girl.”

“Attractive, hm?” Nina raised a brow, resting her cheek on her fist as she looks at you with a knowing smirk on her face.

You flicked her forehead and clarified, “Irritatingly attractive. Like, have you seen her? All sharp jawline, full lips and dark eyes. No one so annoying should have such attractive features!”

Inej and Wylan came up to you thee as they overheard the conversation,

“Do you like her?” Wylan hinted with a smirk.

You grimaced and fake-gagged, shaking your head. “Ew, I would rather die!”

“Sometimes, I wish you would stop being so delusional,” Inej sighed. “It is painstakingly obvious.”

You grumbled and buried your blushing face in your hands. “I hate you all.”

Meanwhile, Zoya was chatting with her own friends, Alina and Genya.

“Who does she think she is?” She glared at you as you talked to your own friends.

Alina shrugged, “Personally, I think you’ve got a thing for her.”

“Agreed,” Genya giggled, sitting on the edge of the desk. “Like, all you ever talk about is ‘Oh, Brekker is this, Brekker is that,’ or ‘You won’t not believe what Brekker did!’

Zoya let out an incredulous snort. “Me! Like her? Brekker? Absolutely not. I would rather fail all subjects and die!”

“Why is that?” Alina smirked, having spotted the lie.

“Well, she’s annoying, ridiculously cocky, and infuriatingly cute!” Zoya scoffed. “Like, no one should have the right to have such a smile when they’re the literal embodiment of irritation!”

“I’m sensing sexual tension…” Genya said in a sing-song voice.

Zoya shoved the redhead gently off her desk and mumbled, “You’re both idiots.”

The teacher came in and called for decorum, so the class settled down at last.

“Alright,” she said with a sigh. “Exams are nearly over, so I should brief you on your latest project. This one is worth 20% of your annual grade, so make sure your report is well done. I will be assigning pairs.”

A collective groan went through the class, and Jesper whispered to Nina, “Thirty vlachki says Y/n’s gonna be with Zoya.”

“I say she’s with Alina,” Nina replied.

“You’re both idiots,” you scoffed.

“Alright, you will all have to make a comprehensive report on any one nation in particular, mapping out every last aspect of its history. Simple enough?” The teacher asked, and the class mumbled in agreement. “Good because either ways I do not give a single damn. This is due in the next one week.

“Now for the pairs, Nazyalensky and—er—girl Brekker,” Jesper nudged Nina with a grin as she said it. “Starkov and Oretsev, Zenik and Helvar, Fahey and Van Eck, Ghafa and—well—boy Brekker?”

“I suggest you go with first names, Miss,” you chuckled, making the class hum with agreement.

“Fine,” she agreed, starting over. “Zoya and Y/n, Alina and Malyen, Nina and Matthias, Jesper and Wylan, Inej and Kaz…”

“I have a feeling she ships everyone with each other,” Nina chuckled.

You sighed in irritation. Zoya Nazyalensky of all people was your partner. It was like the Saints were condemning you.

First you have to be tutored by her and now you have to work with her?

After class, Zoya caught you near the lockers and said, “So, we have to work together now.”

You grimaced, “Yes.”

She chuckled softly and poked you with her pencil. “I guess I’ll have to make sure it’s good work, since I’m better.”

“Says the one who got a 49.” You scoffed, catching her wrist sharply when she made a move to poke you again.

She wrestled her hand from your grip and caught your chin in her hand, pulling you close.

“Gloat about that again, I dare you,” she hissed in a tone so menacing, you actually figured the consequences would be bad.

You giggled, however. “Getting riled up because you know I’m better than you, Nazyalensky?”

Her grip loosened around your chin as she caught your collar in her fists, her dark eyes glaring fiercely into your e/c ones.

Saints, she had pretty eyes…

“Shut up, Brekker, or so help me, I will make you fail,” she seethed.

“And risk getting in the bad books of Reznik?” you laughed evilly. “We both know you could never.”

She let go of you and scowled. “Tonight, six p.m. Keep your material ready and do not be late.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure my work isn’t as mediocre as yours,” you shot back with a sweet smile.

She rolled her eyes. “Fuck you, Brekker.”

“In your dreams, Nazyalensky,” you chuckled and turned away, walking towards your friends who had somehow miraculously appeared there.

Jesper clapped you on the back and sing-songed, “Sexual tension…”

You gently elbowed him in the rubs and mumbled, “Shut up and go moon over Wylan, you dumbass.”

—Time Skip—

“Decided a country?” Zoya asked as she arrived at the library that evening.

You showed her your binder of resources as you said plainly, “We will do our project on Kerch.”

“Why Kerch, when Ravka has such a rich history?” She asked with a raised brow.

You grumbled and said, “Because Kerch is where we get everything from. We get our oil, our resources, our ships, our manual labour from there. Everything essential to run a country, Kerch provides.”

“I have to admit, Brekker,” she curled her bottom lip in approval, “I’m impressed.”

“As if your opinion means anything to me,” you kicked her under the table. However, some part inside you warmed up at her words.

Maybe it means something a little bit…

While you both discussed the topic, adding each other’s views and opinions while drafting, Zoya had to notice little things when you both would take long silences as a break.

She noticed the way you tugged at a stray lock of your hair, or how you began turning your wrists after a long round of writing.

Her favourite thing was when you’d spin your pen deftly between your fingers.

It had her mind going places it shouldn’t…

‘Stop it, Zoya,’ she thought to herself sternly. ‘You have to beat her, not stare at her fingers!’

Meanwhile, you noticed how she always furrowed her brows in concentration while she explained a topic to add in, or how she bit her lip if she was writing something down.

But, your personal favourite was when she’d make eye contact when you’d explain something, her head tilted slightly as she listened intently.

Insufferable as she was, she knew how to listen.

You leaned back in your chair and sighed loudly, rubbing your eyes tiredly. The clock had chimed ten p.m. it had been four hours of work, and both of you looked worse for wear. The table was piled with books, and you both had to scoot closer in order to work on the massive stack of pages which had the first draft of your report. Thirty two pages in four hours.

You wanted to collapse and fall asleep, but only after making fun of your partner.

However, you had to admit that Zoya with her wavy hair tied up in a messy knot atop her head, with a slightly sluggish smile of satisfaction on her face was…maybe a little bit cute.

“Take a break,” you said. “I need my opponent to be forever ready for battle, Nazyalensky,”

“You are insufferable, Brekker,” she rolled her eyes as she closed her eyes tiredly.

You chuckled and decided to draft a conclusion to the pair of yours’ messy notes.

Suddenly, you felt a bit of weight against your shoulder. You froze instantly, unsure of what to do.

It was Zoya, sleeping soundly, snoring a little with her arms crossed and her head against your shoulder.

The enmity against her within you made your skin bristle, and the urge to push her off you rise on your fingertips.

But something else, something a little stronger, pushed the feeling away and replaced it with the need to keep her peacefully asleep while you finished the work up for her.

You’d bully her about that later, obviously.

Zoya started awake twenty minutes later and immediately moved away from you, her cheeks burning red.

Did she really just fall asleep against your shoulder?

“Did I fall asleep?” She said, fixing her hair hastily, trying to regain composure.

You chuckled, “Looks like Sleeping Beauty’s finally awake.”

She kicked you under the table and replied sneakily, “Working with you is more tiring than working on a farm during harvest season.”

“Oh yes, because I’m such a slow worker that I made a draft conclusion for the report in twenty minutes?” You raised a brow, holding the paper out to her.

She snatched it from you with a side eye and pulled the pencil out from her hair, making her chocolate brown locks fall down her back in slightly tangled but otherwise captivating waves.

She checked over the page, making a few changes here and there before she placed the page down with the others, sighing deeply.

“Well,” she said, as if the words were a massive effort. “It’s not bad.”

“It’s our first draft, idiot,” you scoffed. “We have to work on it more, so don’t get too excited. I’m still waiting for a better response to my hard work.”

“You did a page in twenty minutes, that’s hardly anything,” she rolled her eyes.

You leaned closer and cupped a hand behind your ear, saying in a tone as though you were prompting her, “Oh, thank you so, so much, especially for letting me nap like the little baby I am while you did the work…”

“Thanks, Brekker,” she sighed. “You are insufferable.”

“I’m not usually insufferable, but you get so easily riled up it is hard not to be,” you giggled, packing up.

You both reached the steps outside the library. “Want me to walk you home so you don’t get lost, little baby Nazyalensky?” You jeered at her, leaning against the railing.

She rolled her eyes and placed her hand against where you were leaning, pinning you, somehow, against the railing, saying, “Don’t get too confident, Brekker. Take me on a date first.”

Butterflies erupted in your stomach, as your slightly shyer side threatened to come out.

What was it with her and pinning you against things this way? Did she know how it made you feel?

You made a face, praying the dim light masked your blush. “As if I would ever! No amount of money in the world could make me do that!”

You consciously avoided her gaze, afraid of the feeling in your stomach. It was a knot of heat which pulsed when she tried making eye contact with you.

Oh, but how enticing that offer was…

“It’s Saturday tomorrow,” she said, grasping your chin between her thumb and forefinger to keep you from looking away. Her dark eyes locked on yours magnetically, as you felt that foreign heat travel steadily lower. “So I expect you to be here at four p.m, got it?”

Saints, she looked good up close, too.

You laughed nervously, and moved such that you got slightly closer to her. Your gaze skirted to her lips unintentionally, and your body was practically immobilised in a gay panic.

But, when her breath hitched and her dominant demeanour faltered, you laughed and moved away, bowing mockingly.

“And that’s how you flirt, Nazyalensky,” you smirked, thankful to your ability to get easily flustered for once. “Getting a little too obsessed with me, I see.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “That’s called wishful thinking, Brekker. As as if I would ever be.”

You hummed. “Well, you’re too annoying to be my type. So, wishful thinking on your part, really.”

“I’m too annoying? Brekker, you make a bratty toddler look like an angel,” she laughed humourlessly.

“Whatever, good night, little baby Nazyalensky,” you sniggered, gently punching her shoulder.

She rolled her eyes. “Fuck you, Brekker.”

Obviously, you gave her your standard reply.

“In your dreams, Nazyalensky!”

Zoya, as she walked away, mumbled to herself, “For now, dreams will have to suffice…”

———

WOW SO MANY UPDATES-

I hope you enjoyed this one <3 feel free to ask or request!

#shadow and bone #fluff #nina zenik #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #kaz brekker #lesbian #wlw #female y/n #zoya the love of my life after inej #zoya the dragon queen of ravka #zoya of the garden #zoya nazyalensky #zoya nazyalensky x reader #fist bench miniseries #academic rivals to lovers #enemies to lovers #flirting shamelessly

[turtletaubwrites]

Touching What's Yours ~ Part 3

This story started with a request from @punkclowngutz found HERE. Thank you again for the request! 🙏🏼 This follows the poly fic 'We've All Got Needs' series linked below through Part 6.5, then diverges from there into this alternate miniseries.

Pairings: Zoro x Fem!Reader x Sanji

Word Count: 6048

We've All Got Needs Masterlist

Ao3 Link

Summary: Relationship discussions, and secrets revealed. Zoro and Sanji decide how comfortable they are with sharing you with each other.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ Only, MDNI, Reader Insert, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Condoms, Penis in Vagina Sex, Face-Fucking, Choking, Hair-pulling, Spitroasting, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Polyamory, Relationship Discussions, Relationship Drama, Porn with Feelings, Swearing, Angst, Alcohol, Shame, Cigarettes, They're Gross, Don't Smoke, Pet Names, Zoro might be getting better at feelings, maybe

A/N: Sorry about the length, I didn't want to split this up and leave out the goodies, lol. I hope you enjoy it!

Zoro was itching to touch you. He could see your thighs next to his under the kitchen table, and the feeling of you avoiding his gaze made him sick.

Hardly putting a thing on his plate, Zoro breathed through the memories of all his recent fuckups, and the dread of how you would look at him after today. The memory of sake with the cook last night rolled through his mind, and he clenched his jaw at the thought that he was right. 

We need to talk.

Sanji cared for the crew, though his attention kept being drawn toward a certain swordsman this morning. 

If this idiot doesn’t eat a decent meal soon, I’ll have to shove it down his throat.

A small, wicked smile curled his lips at the thought, and he coughed as Luffy called his name, asking for fourths.

“Hey, Needy…”

You had stayed back as the rest of the crew filed out after breakfast, then asked Zoro to let you out of the booth.

“But…”

Sanji sat across with his own plate of breakfast, pleading eyes on you while Zoro awkwardly kept you captive by not moving.

“Mon coeur, we were hoping you’d have time to speak with us this morning.”

Zoro’s fists clenched, but he gave a small nod.

“Okay. Can I sit over…” You pointed to the counter, but trailed off as you looked at Zoro. He could feel your eyes on him, and found himself shaking slightly. 

“I just want to see you both better,” you explained as you started scooting along the bench to the middle of the large booth so that you could look at them both clearly.

Sanji had to chew his tongue to stay serious with how cute you looked scooching along.

Zoro breathed in slowly, resisting the urge to wrap his arm around your shoulders to keep you close.

It’s gonna be fine. She’s gonna be fine. It’s not over.

“We, uh, have a lot to talk about.”

Your words shot through Zoro like steel bars in his bones, keeping him rigid.

“Of course, darling, please go ahead.”

You cleared your throat, and Zoro was struggling to keep his eyes on yours, feeling like he was waiting for a blow to fall.

“I can’t do this if it’s going to cause issues for the crew, if there’s going to be big fights over me. I know you guys will never stop fighting, but that was serious, and I won’t be a part of it.”

Zoro nodded, his face heating up while Sanji agreed.

“And Zoro,” your voice made his breath hitch as he held your gaze, your face almost blank with your next words.

“I will not be spoken to the way you did yesterday. If something is bothering you, then I will talk with you about it. But not like that.”

Can he rein himself in, Sanji wondered as he watched the faint trembling of the swordsman’s hands. 

“I understand. I’m sorry.”

He felt your assessment, your eyes boring into him as you started to nod. 

“Thank you. I have something else…”

“Anything, ma belle, what’s on your mind?”

Zoro couldn’t keep himself from clenching his jaw at Sanji’s lilting voice.

This time it was your eyes that were avoiding connection, your fingers twisting as you took a deep breath.

“I know we’ve decided that this arrangement is purely casual. But I don’t think I can be casual. With either of you.”

Zoro stared, his heart feeling like it was being squeezed.

Sanji felt a thrill, wanting to taste your sweet lips as you shared what he thought you were.

“What do you…” Zoro’s voice was strained, and he trailed off as you gave him a small smile. 

“I don’t feel comfortable or right with the thought of choosing one of you over the other. I don’t want to create a greater rift. I’m hoping you will both want to continue seeing me, as in a polyamorous relationship.”

“Of course, angel-”

Sanji’s heart almost melted when you smirked at him, cutting him off.

“Please take time to think about this. This is a serious decision, and we would all need to work on communication and trust with each other. I really care about both of you and the crew, and I don’t want to hurt anyone by entering into something you aren’t comfortable with. We need to be honest with each other.”

Sanji watched your face fall as Zoro leaned back, sighing as he looked up at the ceiling. 

“Marimo… Do you want-”  

“Go ahead, cook. Get on with it.”

Your brows tensed as you looked between your paramours, Zoro leaning over the table to rest his head on his fists, while Sanji’s mouth pulled to the side as he chewed the inside of his lip. 

“Mon coeur, we’ll take time to think on what you’ve shared. We also have something we need to speak with you about.”

Sanji watched you frown slightly at the word ‘we.’

She’s an angel, she won’t be bothered by something like this.

“Honesty is crucial in relationships, and neither of us would wish to enter into-”

“Gods damn it, waiter. Can you just say it?”

Zoro leaned toward him, his lip twitching as he fought his every instinct. Sanji’s eyes narrowed as he fought a smirk. 

Both of their heads snapped to you when you cleared your throat, as if they had forgotten you were there for a moment.

“Everything okay,” you asked, caution in your voice. 

“Would you prefer to tell her?”

Zoro opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t push any words through. He shook his head, and Sanji nodded, taking a breath as he met your eyes.

“Y/N, dear. Zoro and I were, uh… intimate recently. We thought you should know before we go further in any relationship with you.”

Your mouth parted slightly as you looked between them, Zoro avoided your gaze while Sanji’s eyes were soft.

“Intimate… Like?”

Zoro clenched his eyes and fists while Sanji stepped in, voice slightly higher than normal.

“Ph-Physically intimate, darling. I didn’t think the details-”

Sanji stopped as Zoro’s eyes seared into him. The blonde let out a tiny gasp at the intensity, the hard lines of Zoro’s face reminding him a bit too much of the other night, not too far from where they were sitting. 

Zoro’s eyes flicked to the door, the memory of Sanji gasping for him making his body shake.

“O-Oh… Well, that’s great, you guys,” you breathed out, eyes a bit wide as you took in the tension between them. “If you want to be with me in a poly relationship, then you can be with each other too.”

“No,” Zoro growled. “It’s not happening again.”

Sanji looked down at the table, but he was sure you caught his small smile. He gave you a subtle wink that widened your eyes even more. 

“Okay,” you said, clearing your throat again. “How about we talk after dinner? And it’s alright if you need more time to decide.”

Sanji affirmed while Zoro nodded, leaving the booth to give you room.

Zoro couldn’t keep his eyes off the floor, the shame and humiliation eating at him. 

She won’t look at me the same way. And she still wants to be with him. 

“Zoro?”

Your soft voice pulled his eyes to you, your face leaning down as you looked up at him softly.

“Yeah, Needy,” he said, his voice rough.

“Can I hug you?”

Zoro paused for a moment, feeling stuck in his own mind, but he opened his arms, and breathed in the scent of your hair as you hummed against him. 

His mind fought to enjoy your touch, but he couldn’t tell if your hug was for pity or not.

He squeezed you against him, letting his body memorize the feel of yours before he watched you walk out of the galley.

“Moss head, can you hold on a minute?”

Sanji watched the struggling swordsman look toward the ceiling before turning to face him. The morning light was inching toward the afternoon, and Zoro’s face was etched with exhaustion, the light revealing just how dark his eyes were.

“What now?”

Sanji leaned against the counter as he lit his cigarette, watching the smoke trail up to the ceiling before speaking. 

“I’ve already thought about this. I am serious about Y/N, and I am alright with sharing her with you. Please, really think this through. She wants to be with you, for some reason.”

“Not just me.”

Sanji scoffed at Zoro’s dark tone, his small words.

“No, our lovely angel has so much love in her heart, she deserves more than one person to hold it. I know it’ll be a difficult task for you, but I hope you can avoid being a dumbass while you decide if you want her love or not.”

Zoro flinched at those words, heat spreading through his body as Sanji stepped in front of him.

“Are you really going to say no to the possibility of being loved?”

Those words fell on them both, heavy and sharp, digging their claws in.

Sanji followed his question with another slow drag, bringing the cigarette to his lips as he stared Zoro down.

Zoro’s eyes were drawn to that mouth, his mind empty as he watched that tongue wet those soft lips. Those soft lips that curled at the edges, smiling while Zoro stood in silence. 

Sanji’s eye that wasn’t hidden by that blonde hair was practically sparkling when Zoro finally met his gaze. 

“Well, Marimo?”

Zoro turned and left, not sure what he would have done or said if he stayed a moment longer. 

Sanji stood in the quiet, biting his lip. 

~

An awkward silence fell over the galley as the three of you sat after dinner. Sanji loved the way you fidgeted with your fingers when you were nervous. 

“Have you… Have you both had enough time to think about this?”

Sanji nodded, his heart practically beaming from his eyes as he answered. 

“I have, sweet Y/N. I would love to enter a serious relationship with you, and I am willing to share you, even with moss head.”

You smiled, keeping your mouth closed as if you were holding it in before shifting your attention to Zoro. 

He forgot all the words he’d practiced, but after a moment, he spoke into the quiet room. Letting himself feel.

“Me too, Needy. I wanna be with you.”

You let out something between a laugh and a sob, and reached both of your hands out. 

Sanji grasped one, leaning down to kiss your soft fingers. Zoro squeezed your hand, breathing deep before questioning. 

“So how… is this gonna work?”

Sanji and Zoro both resisted as you pulled your hands away, but it was only to wipe small tears from your eyes as you looked at them. 

“Honestly, is it alright if we go through all of that tomorrow? We should check in after breakfast again, we can figure everything out.”

“Of course, my love. Would you like anything else to eat, dessert maybe? A drink?”

“I’ll take a drink,” Zoro huffed, gaining a frown from Sanji. But you laughed and agreed, so Sanji brought a bottle of sake to share.

Zoro and Sanji moved in, sitting on either side of you. Zoro wrapped his arm around your shoulders, and Sanji didn’t push him by leaning too close. Instead, he held your hand, occasionally letting his rest on your thigh, fingers tracing pretty shapes. 

Little satisfied sighs kept leaving your lips, and Sanji wanted to cherish each moment of you looking so happy and relaxed. 

Zoro kept drinking until he felt lighter, finally laughing. 

“I know we’re talking about it tomorrow. But I… I still wanna know.”

“Know what,” you asked, head tilted up.

“How this is supposed to work,” Zoro questioned, gesturing between the three of you while Sanji stifled a laugh.

“Oh, I, uh. Well, it’ll work how we decide it will. We’ll need to be open and talk about our needs, and work it out together.”

“... Yeah, that’s good. But how?”

Zoro gave another small wave of his hand, and Sanji couldn’t keep from laughing. 

“Shut up, idiot cook.”

You ignored Sanji, reaching to touch Zoro’s cheek.

“What do you mean, Zoro?”

“I believe I know what moss head means. He wants to know how sex is going to work.”

“It’s not like-” Zoro growled over Sanji’s laughter, squeezing you closer to his own body. You had to bite your lip to keep from joining in. 

“It’s okay, Zoro. We’ll talk about that too, and work out what everyone’s comfortable with.”

There was a brief pause before Sanji let out a low chuckle, unable to keep his mouth shut. 

“Marimo, are you wondering if our lovely girlfriend wants us to pleasure her at the same time?”

You yelped, and smacked Sanji’s hand softly, but all he did was lower his head to wink at you. 

Sanji assessed Zoro, wondering how long it would take before the first mate admits what he wants.

Zoro stayed silent, arm still tight around you until you practically squeaked out a response. 

“We don’t have to do that. But I would, um… I would definitely like to try. If you’re comfortable with it.”

Gods, she’s so perfect, Sanji thought as his body thrummed with desire. 

Zoro took another swig of sake before looking down at you with a smirk. 

“You are so fuckin’ needy.”

You poked at his ribs, squirming with happiness at the mischief on his face, and Sanji’s lips that were leaving soft kisses along your hand and arm. 

“What? It’s true. Can’t even settle for two boyfriends, you need to have two cocks in you at the same time?”

Sanji heard the laughter in those words, glad to hear the swordsman loosening up. Those words could have been said in anger, but Zoro gave a deep, hearty laugh as you shoved against him playfully. 

He’s got a good laugh.

Zoro felt light, and it was a relief. He hoped it wasn’t just the sake, he knew he hadn't gone anywhere close to his limit. Regardless, he wanted to remember how this felt, how relaxed he was with sharing you. He wouldn’t get you to himself, but he still got you. 

Maybe this won’t be so bad.

Zoro leaned in, kissing your temple while you still protested against him, laughter shaking your body. 

“Is that what you want, Needy? You want us both to fuck you right now?”

Zoro’s words came out husky and dark, and he smirked as you gasped, your body going still beside him. 

Sanji hummed, letting his fingers trail along your bare thighs, just tickling along the edge of your shorts.

Your head fell back against Zoro’s arm, your breath heavy. 

“Don’t forget to be honest, pretty thing. Do you want this?”

Zoro needed you to say yes. Your scent, and the heat of your body against him was overwhelming, especially after the last few days. He needed to be inside you, to watch you fall apart for him. 

Fuck, I need her so bad. 

“Yes. I want you both right now, please.”

Sanji moaned softly, and brought his fingers to trace along your clothed cunt, feeling a damp spot already growing from the thought of these two men taking you at the same time. 

Zoro grabbed your chin, pulling your face to his, and claiming your lips. Zoro wanted to have you, wanted to take the feeling of you into himself, so he let his tongue dig into you while he ate your little moans. 

Sanji kissed and touched where he could reach in their position, not wanting to push Zoro too far with his touch before the fun had even started. But the need in your voice had made him achingly hard, and he wanted to shower you with every pleasure. 

“Our gorgeous girl is soaked through her shorts already. Let’s take care of her, swordsman.”

“Hold the sake,” Zoro commanded, handing the bottle to Sanji after taking another drink.

Then you were gasping as he twisted, grabbing your waist and pulling you up off the bench before sitting you on the table to face them, your calves dangling off the side to the bench between them.

“What are you-”

“I’m hungry,” Zoro teased, his husky voice sending shivers to both of his companions. 

With a nervous giggle you laid back on the table, and let them both pull at your shorts until you were bare from the waist down. 

Leaning on your elbows, your eyes rolled back in your head at the sight of both of their needy faces as they watched you spread like a meal before them. 

“Come here.”

Your face, your skin, and your pretty little pussy took everything from Zoro’s mind except for need. Your wordless invitation of your spread legs had sent fire through him, and he grabbed your hips, pulling your delicious body toward him before plunging his tongue inside you.

Your back arched, and Sanji watched Zoro feast on you with such intensity that his mouth fell open. Sanji moved in closer, kissing your ankle and calf as his hand trailed along your hip and stomach. You reached out your hand and he grasped it, feeling his own body pulse as you crushed his fingers. 

Zoro groaned into your core, sending vibrations through you before he brought his tongue to your clit, attacking while he shoved two fingers inside you.

Sanji let you rest your ankle on his shoulder as Zoro lost himself in you.

“Go easy on her, we’re just getting started.”

“You’ll get your turn, waiter.”

You cried out at that gruff promise, then stifled a scream as Zoro sucked your clit into your mouth, biting it softly as his fingers hit that sweet spot inside over and over. Sanji moved down the bench so he could trace his fingers along your lips, and you eagerly took them in, sucking on him as you fought your screams.

You were bucking against Zoro’s face now, and he laughed into you while he ripped the orgasm from your body.

Sanji felt dizzy as his focus kept sliding from your beautiful face, contorted with pleasure as you choked on his fingers versus Zoro’s feverish assault, his face near manic, dripping in your pleasure.

Zoro left a few kisses and small bites along your thighs as you caught your breath before taking the sake from Sanji. 

“Alright, needy girl. Show us how much you can take. Your turn now, cook.”

Sanji wanted to argue, to step in that he was being too harsh with you, but the moan that left your lips when his turn was announced had his cock straining in his slacks, he could feel precum already leaking through the fabric. 

Zoro pushed your knees toward you as Sanji scooted in, taking his place. Their thighs and hands brushed against each other, and Sanji held his breath, waiting for Zoro to freak out. 

Instead, Zoro just moved down the bench toward your face, tugging at the bottom of your shirt. 

“Take this off.”

There was no arguing with his voice, and Sanji moaned as you sat up, freeing your breasts so they bounced above him. 

You smiled at him, biting your lip as he couldn't resist reaching up to caress and gently squeeze that warm flesh, rubbing his thumbs across your nipples. 

Zoro cleared his throat, and you laid back with a smirk, his fingers trailing along your chest now.

Sanji stared down at the mess Zoro had made as he ran his hands over your thighs. The thought of tasting you after watching Zoro make you scream was almost too much. Sanji's mouth hung open, and he didn’t think he could last much longer with all of this. 

I’m going to enjoy every fucking second of this. 

Sanji tasted you, leaving a sensual kiss on your clit as you started moving for him.

“Gods, you taste incredible, darling.”

“Yeah, she does,” Zoro agreed, his hand forcing you to look at him while Sanji got started. 

Sanji licked long, slow stripes through your folds, and you were already so sensitive after Zoro’s attack. 

Sanji found your clit again, and treated it like it was precious, humming against your skin. He couldn’t help but smile when you reacted to his tongue ring, and he started to fall into the feel of you, nothing in his mind except for your sounds, your scent, and the way your clit started pulsing in his mouth. 

Sanji started with two fingers, curling expertly until pretty moans left your lips.

Then you were twitching as Zoro’s fingers wrapped around your throat, the delicious sensation of it bringing you so close. 

Sanji looked up to the sight, a hint of anger hitting his system.

Zoro chuckled, loosening his grip. 

“Couldn’t you tell she liked it? Maybe you don’t know her pussy like-”

“Stop,” you gasped, not wanting to lose the high you were so close to. “Sanji I do like that, and I love what you’re doing. Please keep going, I’m so close.”

Sanji’s eyes rolled back at your beautiful whine, so he brought his mouth to your clit, and added a third finger. 

He kept his eyes trained on you as Zoro choked you again. The sight was still hard for Sanji to sit with, but the way your pussy clamped down on his fingers like a vise had him groaning. 

Zoro loved the way your eyes were fluttering for him, letting his grip loosen, then starting again as you gave him small, hungry moans. 

He tried not to think about the other person making you feel good, but kept glancing down at that blonde hair, and the heavy lidded eyes that watched his hand on your throat. 

Zoro covered your mouth with his free hand while Sanji pulled an intense orgasm from you, your body spasming with waves of vibrating pleasure.

You fell limp against the table, Zoro’s low laughs and Sanji’s praises washing over you.

“All done,” you breathed out in question, voice rough.

“Fuck no, not even close.”

Zoro gripped your hair, the soft feel of it in his fingers making him want to rip you toward him. 

Sanji cleared his throat, kissing your shins as he pulled away, always keeping his hands on your skin. 

“Sweetheart, would you prefer to continue here or in a bed-”

“She doesn’t-”

“Bed, please.”

Zoro glanced down at you, your face loose from pleasure and he smiled, loving the way you hummed as you nuzzled against his outstretched fingers. 

The glow of you distracted him so much that he didn’t notice that Sanji had moved and stood from the table. 

“Why don’t you two head to Y/N’s room, I’ll follow with some goodies and supplies.”

Zoro huffed a laugh, trying not to notice the very clear evidence of Sanji’s desire tenting his dress pants. 

“Don’t take too long, cook, or there won’t be anything left for you.”

Sanji ignored the threat as he helped you to your feet, handing you your shorts. He pressed himself against you as he kissed you, deep and slow. The overwhelmed cook almost cried at the moans you let him taste while he rutted his clothed, aching cock along your hip. 

Sanji could have died at the whine you let out when Zoro pulled you away from him. 

“Alright waiter, there’d better be booze with those goodies.”

Sanji headed to the cupboard with a laugh as Zoro watched you put your clothes back on, steadying you with his warm hands when you wobbled. 

“I’ll be right there,” Sanji promised as he added some fruit and another bottle of sake to his platter.

Fuuuck.

Sanji waited for the door to swing closed behind you before grabbing a hand towel, and shutting himself in the pantry.

A soft hiss left his lips as he pulled his throbbing cock from his pants, holding his breath as he started to stroke the feverish skin. 

He couldn’t believe he’d held off as long as he did, the sights and sounds of you letting them both taste you was too much. 

Sanji remembered your back arching over the table while Zoro laughed, his face gleaming with your pleasure. He gripped the towel, taking no time at all to fill the fabric with hot spurts of come, slumping against the wall. 

“Fucking hell,” he whispered as he caught his breath, cleaning himself up before running to get more of you, anything you would give him.

She’s a fucking goddess.

Zoro was smirking to himself as he led you down the hall, leaning to kiss your temple as you moved on unsure legs. 

“Need me to carry you, pretty girl?”

“No,” you scoffed, the blush creeping up your cheeks feeling like a drug for your green haired escort. 

“Don’t lie,” he whispered over your ear as you made it to your door. 

Zoro watched you shiver as you stepped into your quarters, and he took a deep breath as he followed. 

She still wants me. 

The shy smile you gave him made his whole body hot. He couldn’t make sense of the way you made him feel. All he could do was act on it, so he pulled you up into a kiss, holding you as your thighs wrapped around his waist. 

He kneaded the soft skin of your ass, and your fingers pulling the strands of his hair was sending shockwaves through him. Zoro forgot all the things he’d planned to do to you once that door was closed. He forgot that someone else would be joining, until the soft knock and lilting voice traveled in. 

“May I come in, princess?”

“Only if you have booze,” Zoro demanded, leaning in to lick and bite at your neck and chest while you giggled in his arms. 

Sanji balanced the tray on one hand to open the door, walking in to see you and Zoro melting into each other. His mind couldn’t help the flash of jealousy, and the worry that Zoro had found you first, that you wouldn’t feel the same for him. 

But he shook it off, just grateful to be here with you. 

And maybe with this stupid Marimo. 

Ignoring that thought, Sanji set down the plate of sake, fruit, condoms, and lube. 

“All four food groups,” you giggled as you reached for a grape.

You were so cute that Sanji wanted to squeeze you, resisting the urge to crush you in his arms while Zoro grabbed the sake. 

Snagging it from him, you took a long swig before crawling to the center of the bed, pulling your clothes back off.

The boys stood silently, eyes burning into you as your skin flushed. 

“Come here,” you spoke softly, reaching your hands out. 

More clothes dropped to the floor, and your eyes flicked back and forth between them, gasping when they were fully nude. 

“Who goes where?”

Zoro’s voice was low, raspy as he kept his eyes trained on you. 

“Oh, I… I don’t want to pick.”

A nervous laugh left your lips, and you scrambled to your bedside table. You found a coin, holding it up. 

“How about since you asked, Zoro, I’ll flip this and see if you get heads or tails?”

They both laughed, while Sanji surreptitiously glanced at Zoro, whose long cock bounced with the movement.

Damn, he thought, shaking the shivers away as you tossed the coin in the air.

You caught it, barely, but planted it on your arm before revealing the coin, heads side up. 

“Is that alright?”

Zoro crawled onto the bed, answering your question with his lips on yours.

Sanji followed, smoothing his hands along your back, kissing your shoulder blades as he squeezed your hips. He snagged a condom and lube, then waited as you turned for him, melting into a kiss.

“Come on, needy girl,” Zoro teased as he looked your gorgeous body up and down. 

Sanji moved behind you, whispering against your shoulder. 

“Reach back and tap your thigh if it’s too much, angel.”

“You must not know our girl. It’s never too much, huh, kitten?”

Shivers ran over you as you dropped to your hands and knees, eyes on the bead of precum pooling on Zoro’s tip. 

“Just tap if you need to, sweetheart. But I know you can take it. You’re going to be so good for us, aren’t you?”

Sanji rubbed the condom and lube down his sensitive shaft, his words coming out darker as he looked at your sweet ass arched up just for him, your body inviting him in. 

He looked up at Zoro, the image of him about to shove himself down your throat making his own cock twitch. 

“Don’t be too rough with her.”

Zoro finally looked at him again, eyes narrowing as he glanced at Sanji’s cock, the intense girth making him frown slightly.

Sanji held in a smirk as Zoro met his eyes.

“How about you worry about yourself, and enjoy how much her pussy loves it when she chokes on my cock.”

He didn’t see Sanji’s open mouthed reaction to his words because your tongue had reached out, licking the precum, and swirling around his tip. 

Zoro threw his head back, moaning softly as you slowly took more of him into your mouth.

Sanji shook with need as he smoothed his hands over your ass before teasing his fingers along your clit.

You were already giving gorgeous moans around Zoro’s cock when Sanji tested you again, three fingers curling inside. 

Zoro was losing himself again, your beautiful noises vibrating through him before you’d even taken him fully. He gripped your hair, holding you steady, aching to just shove himself in your warm throat already. 

“Quit playing around, this needy girl wanted two cocks in her.”

Sanji huffed a laugh, but brought his tip to rub against your clit, making your body push back against him, begging for more. 

With a groan, Sanji held your hips in place, slowly pressing into you, your muffled moans getting more intense, more desperate as your body was stretched for him. The feeling of forcing himself into you filled him with guilt and need at the pain and pleasure you took from his thick cock. 

You were whimpering around Zoro by the time Sanji was fully sheathed in you, and he shuddered before slowly pulling out to thrust back in. 

“Fuck, angel, your pussy is perfect, sucking me in so well.”

Zoro closed his eyes at Sanji’s praise, feeling his cock pulsing on your tongue. He gripped your hair tighter now, looking down at your face, your eyes already tearing up.

“You’re gonna take my cock like a good girl, aren’t you, Needy? Open that throat up for me.”

You nodded as well as you could, and Sanji gasped at how hard you squeezed around him when Zoro shoved himself into you. 

Sanji wanted to stop him, but your moans and the spasming in your sweet pussy stole his words. All he could do was start thrusting into you harder, every movement turning you into a twitching, desperate mess.

“You’re doing so well, princess, just like you were made for it.”

The feeling of your throat squeezing Zoro’s cock while you whined and cried for him sent his head spinning.

And soon his own rhythm of fucking into your face was aided by Sanji pounding into you, getting more intense with each thrust.

Zoro met Sanji’s blown out eyes over your quivering body, and his mind flashed on the way the blonde had looked when Zoro had taken him in the kitchen. He couldn’t help the moan that escaped him, and the way his dick throbbed on your tongue as he remembered how Sanji’s throat had felt.

Sanji’s mouth was hanging open, your body, your scent all overwhelming him.

The way Zoro’s muscles tightened as he thrust into you, and the memory of those hands gripping his own hair as the swordsman took what he wanted.

When Zoro met his eyes and moaned, Sanji’s body spasmed, and he reached down to play with your clit, needing to feel you coming again before he let himself fall to pieces.

Zoro clamped his eyes shut, trying to focus on you, and not that blonde cook, but it was too late. 

Two faces with red, swollen lips filled his mind, and the thought of them both taking his cock like this sent Zoro groaning, gripping your hair while his hot come poured down your eager throat.

You were already twitching as Sanji’s fingers danced on your clit, and he followed almost immediately as your orgasm tore through you. 

He kept pushing through his own, helping you ride yours out while he panted behind you.

Zoro leaned down, stroking your hair and wiping tears from your cheeks. He smirked at your dilated eyes that were almost crossing as you relearned how to breathe. 

Sanji pulled away to clean himself up, then brought a towel to your thighs, helping you lay down off your wobbly arms and legs so he could gently clean your skin. 

“So Needy, was that too much for you?”

You shook your head, smiling as your body sank into relaxation. Zoro sat at the headboard, and pulled you until your head was in his lap. Sanji laid beside you, tracing fingers along your stomach and hips, your body shivering with pleasure at their touch. 

“Mm, can you stay?”

Sanji and Zoro’s eyes met, Zoro quickly looking away as he cleared his throat. 

“Who?”

Your eyes cracked open as your skin flushed, looking between them.

“Both. If that’s alright?”

Sanji took a breath, standing and pulling on his briefs before sliding into bed next to you without a word. 

Zoro chewed his lip, watching you curl around Sanji's back, humming as you nestled against him.

He grabbed his boxers, and pulled the blanket over your bodies as he curled around you. He didn’t know where to put his arm, as it would curl over Sanji if he wrapped it around you in the middle. 

He awkwardly laid it over the blanket, reaching it down along your thigh. 

The contented sighs falling from your perfect lips filled Zoro and Sanji with warmth. They were both so grateful to be with you, especially now that you were theirs, their girlfriend, not just something casual. 

But there was a new kind of tension now. A push against each other that tinged their past feuds with just a taste of heat. 

The cook and the swordsman drank in the warmth and joy of you against their skin, but neither could shake that awareness, that knowledge of just how close they were. 

Sanji’s breath was heavy as his body practically hummed in anticipation, and the uncertainty of how Zoro would react. 

He thought of tomorrow, and if they’d go back to business as usual, or worse. Or if he even wanted anything to change with the first mate. 

He’s such an idiot, Sanji thought, still feeling the inches of distance between Zoro’s fingers and his thigh. 

Zoro plunged his face into your hair, hoping to drown in you. But no matter how much he flooded his mind with images of you, that stupid blonde’s face kept popping in, and he could practically feel how close they were to accidentally touching, like the pressure of magnets pushing apart. 

I’ve got Needy. I don’t want anything else. 

He repeated that thought like a mantra as his hand itched to stretch out. He finally rolled away from you, laying on his back as you slept, soft breaths lifting your chest as you stayed snug against Sanji’s back. 

Grumbling at himself, Zoro turned away, pressing his back against yours, caging you between them as he fought his racing thoughts. 

Sanji tilted, lifting his head to check on the movement. He rolled his eyes at the sight of Zoro turning away, closing himself off. 

His own words poured through his mind, and he bit his lip at the thought that Zoro might keep saying no to the possibility of being loved. He settled back against you, his eyes drifting closed as sleep fell on this group of lovers. 

Dumbass Marimo. 

Thank You for Reading! 💜

TurtleTaub Fanfic Masterlist

We've All Got Needs Masterlist

A/N: I love these silly boys 💙💚

Tag List: @astheni-a

Buy me a coffee ☕🙏🏼

#zosan smut #sanji smut #zoro smut #Reader Insert #Fem!Reader #Smut #mine #One Piece smut #sanji fanfic #zoro fanfic #zoro x sanji #fic requests #inbox #sanji x reader #zoro x reader #f/m/m #x reader #turtletaub fics

[gatitties]

Problem

Manager Miniseries

─ Aoba Josai x fem!reader

─ Summary: Aoba's boys have a problem and you get their attention by trying to help your friend

─ Warnings: oikawa

0 > 1

It's not like a 'story' itself, so it won't have an ending as such, although there is some continuity in some chapters, it can be read separately, the numbering is just for convenience!

"Ahh, Iwa-chan that hurts!"

He took his hands to the affected area, caressing it to try to soothe the pain caused by the fist of his best friend who had an irritation mark on his forehead, he was tired of his captain's nonsense.

“Stop teasing Kentaro you piece of shit."

While the duo of friends continued arguing, two other third-year boys laughed as they commented on things they saw on their phones, apparently they were memes. Kentaro was gripping a volleyball too tightly, he was frowning, surely frustrated by Oikawa's words and not being able to beat the team's ace, he began to mercilessly hit the ball against the wall. The first years boys, well, Kunimi was sleeping lying on one of the benches while Kindaichi desperately tried to wake him up by making all sorts of strange sounds. Yahaba and Watari were practicing at the back of the court, watching as chaos succumbed to their beautiful team, surely they were praying that the punishment would not be too much when the coach returned from attending to his business.

The echo of the door resounded above all the commotion, everyone froze when they saw the terrifying smile of their coach, they didn't know what awaited them but surely from their teacher's face it was not good at all.

"We have to talk."

"Repeat to me why I have to go."

"Because it will be super cool! Besides, you didn't like sports or something?"

"No."

"Well, it doesn't matter, you have to come with me, please!"

She begged grabbing your forearms, shaking you from side to side, her insistence winning this time, letting a long, dramatic breath slide past your lips.

"Fine, fine, but only because I have nothing to do."

"You never have anything to do."

"Shut up."

The happiest girl squealed excitedly thinking of the thousands of ways to declare herself to her supposed crush. You two walked to the gym, you calmly with your hands in your pockets while yawned and the other in a messy bundle that tried to calm down by pressing the folds of her skirt.

"Why are you so nervous?"

"Why!? Haven't you heard what I've been telling you at recess?"

"Not much, you know I was concentrating on eating, priorities."

Your classmate sighed exhausted, explaining everything again but in a more summarized way, after a few minutes you found out that she wanted to declare herself with a beautiful and emotional love letter. Too typical. You arrived at the gym where the Seijoh men's volleyball team practiced, the surprise was seeing many girls sitting there, at least it was surprising for you.

'Since when have all these people been such fanatic?'

You sat next to another group who were whispering something about a cute boy, chocolates, and love.

'It's Valentine's Day and I haven't heard? Wait a second… did I feed the cat?! Mom is going to-'

A lot of high-pitched screams hit your eardrum being dragged off by a pack of what seemed to be crazy female fans. You looked for your friend to realize that she was among all the young women, exhausted, you left there waiting for the circle to dissipate so that you could return home with your classmate. You couldn't see it until a boy with strangely spiky hair brought out the man who was apparently being harassed by the previous group who now looked disillusioned, among them was your friend who was holding the letter tightly in front of her chest. You sighed heavily when you saw the girl's expression, you looked for a second at the letter and the boy who was dragged as if he were a scolded son, the other girls had already left practically disappointed.

"Bring me that."

You grabbed the letter from your friend without letting her react in time when you started walking in the opposite direction.

"N-don't wait n-"

You ignored her, you were already only a few steps away from the boy, when you were close enough you touched his shoulder to get his attention, although you not only caught his attention, but also all the people who were there due to the discussion of the men who was stopped by you.

"Hey, I'm so sorry but he's busy."

The spiky-haired boy seemed quite tired of these situations, he really should have been paid for having to put up with all these messes.

"Iwa-chan don't be mean, she's just a cute fan."

Iwaizumi clicked his tongue letting go of his captain, waiting to one side, holding back the urge to hit his 'beloved' captain's head again, he crossed his arms watching his friend smile falsely at you who remained by his side, looking silent interaction.

"What do you need darling?"

"This is stupid" you whispered, placing your fingers on the bridge of your nose "Here, it's from her."

You pointed to your friend who was walking clumsily over there with her face red as a tomato.

“I-I-I'm sorry, s-she usually very direct."

She gave a small curtsy to the jock duo, who looked at the newcomer in confusion while you yawned scratching the top of your head.

"Hey, I did you a favor."

"It was supposed to be a romantic scene!"

"Huh? That's stupid, besides, do you even know him enough to fall in love? He seems a bit of an idiot."

An arrow stuck into Oikawa's body while Iwaizumi enjoyed the moment, he didn't know you but he already liked you.

"O-Of course I do! He's nice I just know!"

She gasped moving her arms from side to side, exaggerating her point, you just rolled your eyes slightly pushing your friend away for leave the gym.

"I'll pretend I believe you just because I want to go home."

You walked away from her taking out your phone to answer some messages, leaving your friend in a mess next to her crush, after other apologies and bows, she ran after you to catch up with. The boys' volleyball team was silent for a few moments, watching as you two walked out the door remembering the talk they had earlier with their coach.

"We have to talk." most of them remained static "you are an excellent team on the court but the training sessions are beyond me, not to mention the constant problems you cause." they all looked at each other, sharing complicit glances "Until you find a manager who can put up with your nonsense and knows how to control you, I won't plan any practice matches again."

Silence reigned throughout the court and was not broken until people interested in the sport, or a certain popular boy, began to enter.

They had a problem.

#haikyuu #haikyuu xreader #aoba josai #aoba josai x reader #reader #fem reader #reader insert #Oikawa #Iwaizumi #haikyuu x manager reader #manager reader #manager miniseries #i love this team pls #oikawa is a warning yes

[seasonofthewicth]

nobody does it like you do - act 6

The final part!! I hope this is a satisfying conclusion! Thank you so much to everyone who has reblogged/commented/shared - it has meant so much. Special thank you again to @morganofthewildfire I'd still be working away at this fic if it wasn't for you, I don't know I ever would have finished it off. Your comments and analysis helped me so much and made this fic better than I could have alone, I'm so grateful.

13k - masterlist - ao3

--

There are five weeks between the eventful wrap party and her first day shooting the Netflix miniseries in Antica. Five weeks for Aelin to sort her shit.

It’s ambitious, and probably unattainable, but she needs a goal.

She needs something to draw her mind away from Rifthold and the director she knows is no longer there.

She gives herself a week of self pity. A week of lying around her sparsely decorated and impersonal Orynth apartment dwelling and pointedly ignoring the headlines she knows have been released. Elide let her know only one picture was captured of her with tears in her eyes leaving the party. Only one and gods bless Elide she shut it down.

Aelin lies on her uncomfortable couch in well-worn pyjamas with unwashed hair and runs through the photos on her phone of her and Fenrys, her and Manon, and the group of them together on set doing whatever shit they used to do.

She spends more time than she should like that. She sits there until her coffee table is overflowing with takeaway wrappers and Aedion and Elide have stopped texting more than once a day. She’s awful for ignoring them but she’s still mortified.

She hasn’t been able to look Aedion in the eyes since he dropped her back at her apartment after their long flight home from Rifthold. He didn’t say much. After he managed to again get her out of the party with minimal press she had cried, curled up between Aedion and Lysandra in their bed, and he didn’t offer judgement or instruction.

He just held her, whispering words she can’t remember but appreciates anyway. Now she hasn’t replied to any of his texts.

She hasn’t texted Fenrys or Manon either. She doesn’t know what to say.

She knows Fenrys jumped immediately into another movie, an action movie she knows he’s been chomping at the bit to get training for, and Manon into the second series of her show that she’s probably too famous for now.

They’re busy. They’ll understand. At least that’s what she tells herself.

The worst thing she does in that week is pour over the photos she has of Rowan. She didn’t realise she had so many but her camera roll is full of silver and green.

There are photos of just him, looking like Rowan, tall and handsome and understatedly happy, smiling covert little smiles at Aelin behind the camera. He was used to her instructing him to pose by the end of filming, she loved snapping away as he did anything. Eating, sleeping, smiling, everything - if it was Rowan she wanted it captured.

Now every photo is a knife to the chest.

The ones of the two of them together are worse, they twist the knife, pain splicing through her until she can hardly breathe. There are pictures of their cheeks pressed together, eyes shining, some serious, some silly. In all of them Aelin can clearly see her own happiness.

She can’t stop looking at them even as tears swell in her eyes and her throat gets tight.

For one week.

Until it’s been seven days since her flight landed back in Orynth and she gets up off her couch and deletes them. She almost doesn’t, her thumb hovers over the button for a good minute before she presses down but then it’s done and they’re gone. She showers and changes her clothes, she throws away all the rubbish on her coffee table and makes a plan.

Filming the movie with all of them it was easy to feel better than she did before, surrounded by new and exciting things, new people who didn’t know her before or treat her differently because of it. It was easy to lose herself in who she was there and with them.

Now though, she’s back to real life and real life lasts for an uneventful three weeks.

She tries what she can, she reads, she runs, she bakes, she teaches herself how to knit. None of it is satisfying and it's hard to make it stick. It’s all boring and never quite captures her attention the way she hopes. Never captures her attention enough to tear it away from Rowan and Rifthold.

A week before she flies out to Antica it changes.

She stumbles upon the change, completely accidentally, and she doesn’t realise what she’s needed until it's right in front of her.

Her usual run route is obstructed by construction and so she takes a left where she usually takes a right, heading down into the west side of the city, the side she doesn’t often frequent.

She used to. She used to spend hours strolling the streets letting the warmth of the sun and Sam’s hand in hers settle into her skin as they observed the numerous bakeries and small boutiques. Thankfully the scenery appears to have changed since.

The chill breeze of the September Orynth air teases the loose strands of hair tickling her face as she comes to a stop outside the sleek shop front. The wooden panels are painted a dark, glossy black and the windows are polished so brightly they reflect what’s left of the sunlight.

Music of Mistward the sign reads in curved, white lettering.

She can see her reflection in the shop window, her cheeks flushed, hair unruly, her running gear nowhere near to what would be appropriate attire for the shop dripping in class but she can’t turn away.

A bell tinkles as she pushes through the door, her headphones gripped tight in her fist as the gentle jazz playing over the sound system greets her. She doesn’t like jazz, it’s not her thing, but along with the musk of wood in the air it’s soothing in welcoming her in.

She passes walls of guitars and violins until she reaches the instrument that caught her eye. It’s sleek, black lid propped open revealing the elegant strings, pulled tight in neat lines. The sharp contrast of the keys against each other, bright against the deep black of the case. Her fingers ghost over them, dying to press down.

She hasn’t played since those days in Rowan’s Doranelle home. She’s wanted to, longed to feel the cool keys under her fingertips and the flood of the music pouring out of her, but the cheap keyboard in her Orynth apartment wouldn’t do Rowan’s beautiful instrument justice.

Aelin would rather not play at all than attempt a cheap imitation of what she felt there.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” A voice sounds behind her, low and raspy but cheerful all the same.

She turns, taking in the older man, his grey hair cut short and his classic shirt and slacks pressed crisp. She glances back to the piano before facing him fully.

“Stunning,” she breathes.

The man steps forwards and offers her his hand. She slips her hand into his and he pumps firmly as he introduces himself.

“Emrys,” he says. “Welcome to Music of Mistward.”

“Aelin,” she says, surprised to hear her voice thick.

“Great to meet you, Aelin,” Emrys says with an ancient smile. He nods towards the piano. “Do you play?”

“No,” she says and Emrys’ smile flickers. “Yes, I mean I used to. I want to,” is what she settles on.

He nods, satisfied, before taking a step closer to the piano. He runs a hand over the top, almost reverently and smiles to himself.

“Antique,” he starts, “almost one hundred years old but well loved. I acquired it recently - here we deal mostly in antique instruments, it’s a passion for both myself and my husband. The previous owner only sold it to me when she inherited it and didn’t know how to play, she wanted it to find a good home.”

He shares a smile with her as if she’s in on the joke but her breathing still hasn’t settled.

“Satin Ebony finish,” Emrys continues, “eighty-eight keys, all original but preserved to the highest quality. Accompanying bench, cut with refreshed velvet. I don’t know in all my years I’ve seen such a fine instrument as old as this.”

Aelin glances back to the piano, it’s big, it won’t fit in her apartment in Orynth but she doesn’t care. She can… adjust. She hasn’t felt a pull like this in a while, she doesn’t want to deny it when she does.

“How much?” she almost demands from the man in front of her.

He appraises her and she knows what he sees. Her bedraggled state and the tension through her shoulders doesn’t give the impression of someone with this much cash to throw around. She abruptly ignores that the way she probably can afford this is because of Rowan’s movie.

When he doesn’t speak she repeats herself, more firmly. “How much?”

“Our price includes delivery and tuning on arrival.” He seems apprehensive of telling her the truth. Aelin waits.

When he finally reveals the figure Aelin blinks. And then she extends her hand. “I’ll take it.”

To his credit Emrys just nods, shaking her hand. “You don’t want to at least play it first?”

Aelin feels the smirk she hasn’t worn in a while creep onto her face. “Is there a risk you’re pulling a fast one on me?”

Emrys returns her smile, a playful glint in his eye. “Not a chance, Aelin. Please follow me to the register where I can take your details.”

Aelin almost stumbles. Almost, but then recovers.

“Any chance I can pay a deposit and then let you know where you’ll be delivering sometime soon?”

Emrys winks knowingly. “Absolutely.”

She follows him to the counter, signs away part of a disgustingly large total of money but leaves with a sense of satisfaction. It’s an accomplishment, a step for purely selfish reasons.

The first thing she does when she leaves the shop is call Elide.

Aelin meets her new therapist two days before she flies out to Antica.

She hasn’t called her old one in months and thinks that’s probably a sign. And she’s all about changes at the moment.

She isn’t shooting in Antica for too long, only a couple of months until she’s back in Orynth and then back to Rifthhold for press. Her stomach drops everytime the thought wanders into her head.

She’s excited to be back in Rifthold, but the company is daunting.

Fenrys and Manon will easily be pissed at her disappearance. She knows Manon will play aloof but she also knows she’ll be upset, Fenrys too. Aelin didn’t mean to hurt them, didn’t mean to drop off the face of the Earth, and she knows she’s let them down but Fenrys and Manon remind her of Rowan. She couldn’t trust the conversation not to eventually steer towards him and Aelin isn’t ready for that.

Their break-up feels weirdly anticlimactic. After everything they built to, Aelin just dipped.

She knows it seems that way to Rowan at least. She hasn’t texted him, or rang him or anything since the party. She’s wanted to, wanted more than anything to hear his voice as she cried, but it’s not fair to him to drag it out and she knows that. She knew when she drew the line she had to stay on her side of it, no matter how much it hurt.

She had cried until her head pounded and her throat was raw. She cried until her eyes itched with no tears left to fall, until all that came out of her was hoarse screeches as she ached to hear him call her Fireheart one last time.

But no one needs to know that, she had kept it as hidden as she could.

She definitely didn’t need any more paparazzi pictures of her with red-rimmed eyes looking downtrodden. She couldn’t bear the thought of Rowan, or worse her mother, seeing them.

She knows Fenrys and Manon; Aedion, Lysandra and Elide would see through her flimsy excuses and so it was easier to stay quiet.

She’s not thinking about facing them yet. She supposes that will be something that likely comes up with this new therapist, but so far on her own, she’s choosing avoidance.

She gets Maeve’s number from Dorian, and she comes highly recommended by a number of Dorian’s other high profile clients. She’s well-versed in non-disclosure agreements, secret sessions and back street exits; she feels like the perfect fit for Aelin.

Unofficially, Dorian lets her know Maeve takes no shit, and that’s also just what Aelin needs.

They agree to online sessions while she’s in Antica, but Maeve recommended an initial meeting and Aelin is open to all of her suggestions.

Their first hour is not directly her most life changing but it’s a start.

“Welcome, Aelin,” Maeve says, sweeping an arm out towards the firm-looking, orange couch in the centre of the room.

Aelin takes a seat, mutters her thanks and glances around the room.

The room should feel cold with the exposed brick and minimalistic decor, the only furniture being the couch Aelin perches on, the almost regal armchair Maeve reclines in and a lamp, but it doesn’t and she gets comfortable tucking her feet beneath her thighs and leaning against the arm.

“So,” Maeve begins, surveying her in the way only a true professional can. “Let’s get started.”

Aelin feels bare beneath her gaze, and like everything about Maeve and her practise it should be unnerving but she just blinks against the scrutiny.

“Why are you here today? You could start with sharing why you have made this appointment.”

And isn’t that the million gold-mark question?

Aelin takes a deep breath through her nose and raises her chin.

“I don’t want to move backwards,” she admits. “Or maybe I just want to know I’ve actually moved forwards.”

Maeve’s expression stays calm, but Aelin knows she’d be smirking if she could. She’s well aware of how therapy works but even so, speaking her thoughts aloud can help to verify them in her own mind.

Aelin hopes so at least.

Their hour is over quickly and Aelin is resolved that Maeve is a good fit, reassured in Dorian’s claim that the woman takes no shit. Her all-knowing assessment of Aelin should have been unsettling but the frank dissection is what she needs.

Online therapy, especially fitting it around shooting might be a challenge but it’s for the best. As much as she values her independence and standing on her own two feet, Aelin is big enough to admit that facing her mother again may require some professional guidance. Seeing Rowan too, but again, she’s not thinking about that yet.

Antica is hot and Aelin is sweaty within seconds of stepping out of the air-conditioned luxury of the airport. That feeling lasts the entire time she’s there, disrupting the otherwise enjoyable time she has shooting the series.

Her new co-stars are fine, they invite her out with them and make her smile but she can’t help as though a part of her is always comparing them to who and what she left in Rifthold. Aelin tries her best to enjoy her time there with them, she hosts dinner parties and invites them to a game of Aedion’s but nothing quite hits the same as her time spent on The Crescent City.

She rationalises it to Maeve, that The Crescent City was a big turning point in her life and that it has nothing to do with Rowan, Fenrys or Manon, but she’s not sure she even believes it herself.

She spends the rest of her time in Antica trying to convince herself, and Maeve, that she’s moving past it. That she’s moving forwards or else she’ll move backwards. She’s not sure how much of it is futile.

The Crescent City is done, whether she likes it or not, and she can’t deny it changed her in ways she didn’t expect. It’s a hard pill to swallow that maybe it changed her beyond return to how she was before. She also can’t quite figure out whether she thinks that’s a bad thing or not.

They have a dinner for the core cast and crew, including Rowan, once they’re all back in Rifthold for the beginning of the press cycle. They have one night to reacquaint before they’re shoved into the whirlwind that is interviews, photoshoots and promotion.

She’s seen the trailer already and it’s just as she expected but more. It’s dark and dreary with flashes of brightness from herself and Fenrys and she’d want to watch it if she chanced a viewing as a member of the public.

What is surreal, is to see herself in a polished version of the film they were creating. Or at least a part of it.

She said each of the lines, rehearsed them over and over until they fell off her tongue without thought, but she still doesn’t recognise the girl in the trailer. A droplet of pride slips down her chest at the realisation that it’s not Aelin in the trailer but Feyre. She knows she’s good, has known it all along, but the realisation and reaffirmation is ecstasy better than any drug.

She hovers outside the restaurant, watching through the window, needing a couple more seconds before she submits herself to the assault of them all again. She still hasn’t replied to either Fenrys or Manon and the thought presses on her like lead but it’s too late to change that now.

If she’s honest she’s concerning herself with Fenrys and Manon in the hopes of distracting herself from the fact that she’s seconds away from Rowan. Seconds away from him in the flesh, his solid body in front of her that she had learned almost as well as her own.

Her palms are clammy and she wipes them against the fabric of her trousers. The upcoming interviews and photoshoots will all be styled for her and so she’s relishing in her last moments for a while of truly dressing like Aelin.

She takes a step towards the restaurant door, the tip of her trainer bumping the wood when a voice sounds behind her.

“Well, hello there, Stranger.”

Aelin braces herself, hand paused outstretched where it had been reaching for the door.

She turns, biting her lip as she faces Fenrys. He looks the same as he did, skin still golden, eyes still dancing with mischief, but his golden curls are trimmed shorter than the last time she saw him. His expression is carefully blank.

“I- Hi… um,” she stumbles over the words. “I’ve missed you.”

Fenrys breaks almost immediately. “Oh thank the fucking gods.”

He surges forwards and wraps her into a tight hug. Aelin clings to him, fighting the tears in her eyes as she buries her face in his chest. She’s gone far too long without this, without him, and it’s all her own fault.

“Do you have any idea how much I missed you?” Fenrys asks. “Oh wait, no you don’t. I’m assuming your phone broke, or was stolen or something since you never replied to any of my texts letting you know.”

Aelin knows her cheeks are stained pink. “I’m sorry,” she admits.

“I know.” His voice softens, losing the teasing edge as he presses a gentle kiss to her cheek.

He pauses before he speaks again, his eyes running over her face. “You could have texted me anytime, you know. Manon too. I know you might forget or try to convince yourself otherwise, but we are your friends. You could have called us about literally anything.”

Aelin feels like she could cry. She’s not sure that she isn’t.

“It doesn’t have to be about anything serious, especially not related to the movie,” or Rowan he doesn’t say but Aelin hears it. “We just wanted to hear your stupid voice.”

Aelin pouts. “My voice isn’t stupid.”

She pokes her tongue out as he rolls his eyes, easily falling back into the dynamic they had shaped a few months ago.

“Not what I meant,” he says before pausing, taking her in as she stands in front of him. “You can’t lose us that easily, you know. We’re like rats or fleas or something. Hard to get rid of.”

“Nice,” she comments, but her chest is tight at his words.

He smiles at her before adding, “and you had fucking better text me back.”

Aelin laughs through the sniffles he’s kindly ignoring. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and finds his contact. Hi she sends and feels his phone buzz against her.

“Much better,” he says and releases her from his arms. “Now, are you ready for a night of the finest dining all on the studio credit card?”

Aelin laughs again. “Lead the way.”

He shoots her a wink and waltzes ahead to hold the door open for her.

Fenrys’ presence shouldn’t reassure her the way it does, especially after the way she has treated him but she clings to him anyway. He’s her buffer for now, a crutch for tonight and tonight only. Once tonight is over and tomorrow begins she and Rowan can be professional, they managed it for months during filming and this should be no different.

Rowan still looks the way he did the night she broke his heart.

His silver hair falls elegantly over his forehead as he bends his head to talk to Manon, the pair of them are engrossed in a conversation as she and Fenrys walk over, not spotting them yet. She loves his hair, loves the thick silver waves and the way they feel between her fingers. She loves the way any attempt he makes to arrange the thick strands is never quite able to tame the beast. She loves the shirt he has on, with the sleeves rolled up exposing inches of tanned skin and dark ink, the same worn green cotton she wore numerous times around his living room all those months ago. She can still remember the feel of it against her bare skin.

His smile is the same, his green eyes crinkling as his lips barely part as he does his best to hold it back.

His smile is the same until he spots her.

He catches sight of her when she reaches the table and his smile drops, the shutters closing over his expression so fast she wouldn’t know he knew how to smile had she not just seen it.

It tears her chest in two and any attempt at a smile on her part is futile. It’s all she can do to make it to her seat without stumbling and she’s sure she misses any other greetings she gets as she slumps onto the chair opposite Manon. She absently notes Fenrys dropping in at her side.

She can’t look away from Rowan, her eyes scanning to try and find anything that distinguishes him from the man she loved all those months ago. She finds nothing. He’s still Rowan and Aelin still… fuck.

He recovers before she does, ever the collected courtier, clearing his throat and nodding.

“Aelin,” he says and she adores the sound of her name on his tongue.

“Hi Rowan,” she manages and hears how weak she sounds. Rowan hears it too. She can tell from the purse of his lips and the tension in the hand he rests along the back of Manon’s chair.

Aelin allows her eyes to drift to Manon and she finally catches the thunderous expression the younger girl wears.

“Hi,” she whispers and Manon blinks.

“Hi?” Manon repeats incredulously.

Aelin is fucked.

“Five months and I get a hi?”

It’s loud and a few heads turn their way. It’s simultaneously mortifying and everything Aelin deserves.

“I’m sorry,” she says plainly.

She could lie, make up some useless excuses but in the end there’s nothing else but the truth and if Manon wants her to grovel she will, she’s just not sure this is the time or place.

Fenrys shares her thoughts. “Later, Manon,” he says, gently.

Rowan’s eyes stay firmly glued to the tablecloth as Manon frowns, seemingly unwilling to let it go.

After a few seconds, seconds Aelin spends waiting for the ground to open up and swallow her, Manon nods. She nods and turns to Fenrys, demanding to know what he’s ordering. And just like that Aelin has a moment to catch her breath.

She knew this dinner wouldn’t be easy, knew she’d be walking into the lion's den of her own making, but she hadn’t expected it to be as hard. Hadn’t expected seeing Rowan to feel like a slap, hadn’t expected Manon’s hurt to scrape across her skin leaving her raw.

She tries not to think she deserves it, Maeve would only raise a brow as if to say we’ve been over this. The thought is sobering, and she manages to lift her head.

It is what it is, what’s done is done and she can only apologise and move forwards.

As much as she tries to resist, Aelin finds herself watching Rowan throughout the night. It’s scary how familiar he feels, he should feel like a stranger, but he feels like she knows him too well. He laughs when she expects, rolls his eyes when she predicts. He orders what she thought he would and he sips away at an orange juice the way he did the first dinner they all had together.

Aelin already feels so different than she did the last time she was in Rifthold and he seems unchanged.

She observes for most of the night, feeling drained despite her minimal contributions to the conversations. She speaks when spoken to and actively avoids speaking when Rowan does, she definitely doesn’t respond to anything he says even though she wants to at least twice and wants to laugh a couple more.

She makes it through and clings to Fenrys again as they all leave, linking her arm through his as they leave the restaurant. He knows what she’s doing but graciously guides her out of the building. Once on the pavement outside the restaurant he pauses and turns to her.

“What hotel are you staying in while you’re here?”

The rest of the group are milling about, calling taxis and bidding their farewells. Aelin doesn’t know how she’s getting back yet, she’s assuming she’ll split a ride with someone.

“Um, the Glass Castle, I think,” she says, desperately trying to recall the name of the hotel she dumped her bags in a few hours earlier.

“Boo,” Fenrys laughs, pointing his thumb down. “They’ve got me in the Torre Cesme. Think I’m ages away from you.”

Aelin laughs, disappointed but ready to order her own taxi back when a voice she didn’t expect sounds.

“I’ve just ordered a cab to the Glass Castle, I’m staying there too. You can jump in if you want.”

Rowan.

She shoots Fenrys a panicked look but his expression is pure glee.

“That would be great thanks, Boss,” Fenrys says, shrugging his arm out of hers and nudging her towards Rowan.

“No problem, Boyo.” Rowan offers Fenrys a dark grin at the nickname and the sight of it stills her. It’s new, he used to roll his eyes whenever Fenrys would drop it into conversation, but now Rowan’s playing along. And the grin, the curl of the lips and the narrowing of the eyes, it’s sexy as fuck.

It’s only taken one night and she’s back in the danger zone. She doesn’t want to be, hell, she wants him to take her back to his hotel room and peel off her clothes but this is Rowan. She’s spent the last few months trying to get over him, falling into bed with him the first night she sees him again would not likely be defined as progress.

He’s also not likely to want that after what she did.

“You don’t have to,” she says. The first direct thing she’s said to him since their greeting.

“I know.” A slight shrug of his broad shoulders. “But we’re going to the same place, it wouldn’t seem logical to take different cars.”

Logic. That’s all it is.

“Right.” She doesn’t think she’s ever felt so awkward with him, not even at the start. “Thank you,” she says, following him to the car.

Fenrys shoots her a grin as he slips into his own taxi. Traitor.

Rowan holds the door open for her and slips in behind her. She tries not to think anything of the fact he could have easily taken the front seat.

The ride is silent apart from the easy chit chat he makes with the driver, another thing she’s not sure she noticed him do before, and she stares out the window as the city passes by. The streets of Rifthold are not her home but she feels a brightness as she glances down the curving roads, spotting groups of people milling about enjoying the night.

She knows the first call she made to Elide in weeks was the right call. Elide is the only person she’d trust with her bank account and access to real estate listings. The link to the flat her friend had sent over has stayed open in her browser since she got it.

It’s modern with classic twists, situated in a recently renovated old warehouse with miles of exposed brick and rustic wooden panelling. She loves the master bedroom the most, with its adjoining en suite with a huge bathtub she can picture herself soaking in. She has a viewing booked in two days but doubts she’ll even need it.

It’s not long before the taxi pulls up outside the hotel and she follows Rowan through the glass doors. He presses the button for the lifts and Aelin shifts in the awkward silence.

Awkward is not something she’s used to with Rowan. Or it wasn’t before.

The doors slide open and again she follows him inside.

He pauses with a hand hovering over the buttons for the floors. “Which floor?”

“Nine.”

Aelin hates these one word exchanges compared to the hours they used to share talking about everything and nothing. She can’t believe this is the man she was so vulnerable with.

His short huff of laughter drags her gaze to his face.

“What?”

“Makes sense,” is what he says, shaking his head and pressing only the button for the ninth floor.

The ride takes seconds, a minute at most, filled with the silence between them.

When the doors open to the ninth floor she steps out, determined not to follow him again, and she feels him follow her. Even now she’s so aware of his powerful body and the way he moves it. She shouldn’t be so attracted to the power emanating from him, from the breadth of his shoulders to the sureness of his steps. She wants him, doesn’t think she ever stopped, except now he’s the forbidden fruit. Forbidden only by her own actions.

She reaches her door, room 905, but pauses with her key tucked in her hand.

“Thanks for letting me share your cab,” she says, finding herself desperate not to say goodbye yet. “I can transfer you for half.”

That finally, finally, cracks a whisper of a smile but she’s not sure she enjoys his laughter if it’s at her. “Don’t worry about it.”

That should be the end of it, she should open her door and shut it behind her, they have a few weeks ahead of them that will be hard enough without any complications.

She left him and he seems gracious enough to have mostly moved past it.

“It was good to see you, Aelin,” he says, seemingly unwilling to let the night end as well. She doesn’t let the seed of hope sprout because what would be the point?

Nevertheless, Aelin smiles, leaning back against her door.

Rowan continues, “even if I wasn’t sure how the night was going to go.”

Her attention is spiked. “What do you mean?”

She can’t lie, a part of her expects him to back down at the edge to her voice. He doesn’t.

“I wasn’t sure if you were going to pretend nothing ever happened between us.”

She blinks, giving herself a second to process.

Maybe this isn’t the same Rowan from all those months ago. That night he let her walk away from him, gods know she needed it, but a dark little part of her had wanted him to fight her harder. Fight harder for her. When he hadn’t she’d taken it as her sign.

She knows the expectation was toxic, if he had fought her it would have only pissed her off, but she wishes she’d had someone to tell her it was the wrong choice. It would have helped to hear in the moment, rather than be faced with Rowan months down the line that she wants and can’t have.

The Rowan in front of her, the third Rowan she’s known, stares her down. His eyes peel away each of the layers she’s worked with Maeve for months to don in a second.

“I wouldn’t do that to you.”

It’s honest and maybe she’s not the same Aelin as a few months ago either.

That’s what she had asked for that night in the cool air, to move past them with as little commotion as possible, stirring up as little attention as they could. She hadn’t wanted to let them eclipse the movie and yet that ended up being exactly what she had accomplished.

Now though, Aelin knows better.

Rowan nods as his eyes dart across her face. He seems to step closer without realising. Aelin notes the motion, still so aware of him and his proximity to her.

His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip. “I was so angry at you for leaving.”

Aelin loses her breath at his confession.

Eventually she manages, “was?”

He looks away from her, glancing down the dark hallway, his jaw tight. When she’s with him she forgets about the world around them, there’s probably-definitely-CCTV in this hallway but he’s here and she can’t let him go yet.

His fists curl and uncurl as he takes a deep breath.

“Was,” he says shortly. “I was so angry at you, the way you did what you did was shit.”

Aelin swallows. He’s not wrong.

“I know.”

“But now I don’t know.” She lifts her eyes to his, swimming in the openness she doesn’t deserve. And fuck that. That is such bullshit. She meets his stare, returning all that he isn’t saying. “I spent a long time thinking about it, thinking about you, and it took me a while but now I get it.”

That hurts more than she expects. She didn’t expect him to be all over her the minute they reunited but his understanding was always a kicker.

“I know why you did it,” he continues. “And that took most of the wind out of my sails.”

Aelin frowns. He can’t possibly know why.

“I don’t think you do.” He tilts his head, an invitation for her to expand. “Or you’d know that nothing has changed.”

“Hasn’t it?”

His question throws her. Completely.

She tilts her head up to look at him, closer to her than he’s been all night, pushing her to keep being honest with him.

She’s dazed being this close to him again after so long, the green of his eyes stronger than she remembers. Or maybe her brain had assured her the memory of him couldn’t have been real.

“I don’t know,” she admits, unable to fight the way her body leans into him.

His teeth graze his lower lip and she follows the motion.

He’s silent for a beat too long and her skin is thrumming under his attention. She doesn’t know how she’s gone this long without him, she doesn’t know how she thought she’d survive never having him again.

“Let me know when you figure it out,” he says finally, drawing back and a rush of cool air fills the space he had taken. “Goodnight Aelin.”

He turns and she watches his back down the hallway. He slips easily into a room a few doors down and she’s left watching the path he’d taken, feeling the weight of his eyes on her lips.

Her head thuds against the door as she screws her eyes shut. She wants to scream, wants to chase him down the hall, wants to fly back to Orynth where she was safe.

She doesn’t do any of those things.

She tucks herself into her hotel room and readies herself for the whirlwind that’s about to hit. These next few weeks are going to be hard, not just dealing with the Rowan situation, but she can’t fight the excitement she feels.

Fuck. She’s back in Rifthold, back where she loves, doing what she was born to do.

This is big. She can feel it.

The Crescent City is not her first project, and so she’s been a part of press cycles before, she knows how they go. What she doesn’t know is how a press cycle for something like this works.

The only word she can find is insanity.

There are somehow earlier mornings than they had while shooting and often longer days. She gets poked and prodded in hair and make-up for hours before they spend all day sat in a hotel room filming repetitive interviews for various magazines.

She and Fenrys are genuinely friends and yet they still have to put on a show in front of the cameras. She plays up her laughter when he cracks a joke and he makes sure to never look away from her for longer than two seconds when she speaks or a producer behind the camera makes a comment.

She loves Fenrys but it’s exhausting. Her only blessing is that for most of her engagements she’s with Fenrys and Manon with Rowan conducting his own interviews separately as she had hoped.

Sometimes though, given their relatively similar ages and general level of chemistry, they get grouped together.

The four of them are filming a video for Buzzfeed, filling in a quiz to find out which character from The Crescent City they’re most like. She’s unsurprised to discover her result is Rhysand and it’s fun even if her heart does pound every time she has to act like she’s unfazed and friendly with Rowan.

There’s a moment, just a moment, where she almost breaks from her friendly and unbothered interview persona. It’s her turn to read the question, what item could you not survive without on a desert island?

It’s Rowan that speaks. “Her shampoo,” he says, “it’s jasmine.”

There’s a split second where she doesn’t speak, where all she can do is stare at Rowan, stunned that he remembered and thought to mention it now.

In that split second she’s transported back to memories of them together in the shower at her rented apartment, kissing lazily under the spray after spending hours between her sheets. She remembers dumping the shampoo into her hand and then onto his head, massaging his thick locks and surrounding them in the scent of jasmine.

She remembers how he kissed her neck as she did, trailing his hands over her silky curves, slick with the soap, with his kisses building in heat until her hands dropped to his shoulders. He’d lavished kisses down her chest until he’d jerked back, shampoo in his eyes and she’d laughed until he was safe and pressed his lips again to hers, continuing where he’d left off.

She’s shocked he’d bring this up when there’s a camera on the two of them and she can only imagine the comments it will spark. She’s not sure she cares if it keeps Rowan’s eyes on her.

“It’s luxurious for a reason,” she says when she recovers, tossing her thick locks over her shoulder. “Well worth it.”

She doesn’t miss the flicker in his own mask at her comment.

That kind of interaction will no doubt ignite the sparks she’d only ever wanted to avoid.

As the press cycle goes on and on, and they get closer and closer to the premiere it only becomes harder for her conviction to hold.

She tests her own argument, the clear line she drew in the sand, when she manages to keep it professional with Rowan and she’s not sure where that leaves her. She had thought they would overshadow everything about the project and now she’s not sure.

She said nothing had changed and he had challenged her.

She’s still not sure who’s in the right.

Everything is simultaneously completely new and exactly the same. Rowan is still gorgeous, still charming in his own reserved way, still almost reverent when he talks about his craft throughout interviews. He still talks with his hands and Aelin still can’t draw her eyes away from their motions, she still craves the touch of them on her skin. He’s still seven years older than her and the director of her big break.

Yet there are differences.

They’re still often on the same page, offering similar answers and backing each other up but now he never backs down from a challenge. Now he doesn’t hold back those comments she knows he was always dying to let slip. She should be annoyed, everytime he drops a line that pushes her to expand a little part of her wants to roll her eyes.

She doesn’t though. Her blood heats and her skin prickles. She loves this with him. Loves the dance they play, the teasing, verbal games that shouldn’t start her off but do. She loves the smirk he wears when they end up down that path, and she knows she wears it’s mirror image.

She always ends up squirming in her seat and it should be wrong but it isn’t. The cameras can’t see below their chests and the flush in her cheeks could easily be from the warmth of the day.

She’s beginning to wonder if she’s powerless against Rowan Whitethorn. If she’s powerless against the green of his eyes or the curl of his accent. The slant of his brows or the points of his teeth when he smiles.

She doesn’t know that it’s just one thing. It’s all of the things, it’s all of him, and more so than ever she’s completely fucked.

But they aren’t talking outside of the interviews and photoshoots, and the knowledge of which hotel room is his itches her toes every night. It would be so easy to sneak down the hall, to knock on the door and slot her lips to his when he opened.

It’s only a couple of nights before the premiere when the temptation becomes too much. She’s been around Rowan all day, surrounded by the smell of his aftershave, the notes of pine and freshness and Rowan and it’s too much. She strides down the hallway, resolved in her decision and closes her fingers over the button for the lift.

She needs to be elsewhere or she’ll make some bad decisions.

She’s come so far, survived months without him, she can’t cave due to proximity.

The hotel bar is deserted when she walks in and makes a beeline to the bartender. Yeah, maybe after her wobble at the wrap party a bar isn’t the best decision she could make but her options are limited. Trying to sleep with Rowan is, after all, probably the worst of both options.

“Just a sparkling water please,” she says to the barman who nods and returns a moment later.

“Put it on my tab.” A voice from the end of the bar.

A laugh bubbles out of her chest as she closes her fingers around her glass. Of course he’s here. She should have spotted Rowan the minute she walked in and it’s cruel that the reason she didn’t was that her thoughts were too wrapped up in him.

“Be careful what you sign up for,” she says as she walks over, her steps measured as she comes to a stop before him. Her hips swing of their own accord and his eyes dart up and down the length of her. “I can put a number of these away.”

The smile he gives her is surprisingly unguarded. It seems he’s done holding himself back too. Aelin loves it.

“I don’t doubt it,” he says, nodding at the stool next to him. She obliges as he speaks again. “It’s hard to switch off sometimes.”

He’s always on the same page as she is. Aelin shrugs, taking a sip of the drink he bought her.

They’re quiet for a moment, both unsure of how to break the silence between them when one of the last things they knew was the taste of each other’s lips.

“I keep thinking I’ll get used to it, that one day this will just be my job, but I never do,” Aelin says eventually, tracing a fingertip through the condensation gathered on her glass.

Rowan nods, smiling softly down at the bar and taking a sip of his own drink. An orange juice as usual.

“It’s hard to sleep at the end of days like today,” he says. “It’s why I’m in here.”

The bar is dark at the late hour, and quiet with no one else in there but them and the bartender. There’s something about the late hour, the darkness and the stillness surrounding them a break from the recent rush, that feels a little bit too close. She feels a little too exposed under the weight of his gaze but she rolls her shoulders back and leans an elbow on the bar as she turns towards him.

“I thought you’d be used to all of this by now,” she says and he cocks his head.

“Why?” His question is coy, begging her to expand.

“This is not your first rodeo and all of that,” she says with a smile.

Rowan laughs softly, the sound curving around her like an embrace.

“It can still be overwhelming after your first big movie,” he says gently, but with an edge to his voice that she needs to immediately get rid of.

“I don’t doubt that,” is what she whispers and his brow seems to soften, sensing her lack of malice.

She hates the way they’re in the position where he assumes the worst of her. She has to make that change.

“I don’t think if I get to do this for the rest of my life that it would ever feel normal.”

“No,” Rowan agrees, “I don’t think it could.”

“So then we need this film to do well.” Aelin shifts on the stool, finding herself leaning closer to him without conscious thought. He doesn’t retreat. He stands his ground until they’re only inches apart. “Lest we find ourselves fading into obscurity.”

“I doubt you ever could,” he says with a laugh and it’s the best thing she’s ever heard.

As he looks at her, his expression soft in the dim light, his smile holds something special for her and her chest lifts that she managed it. That he was willing to give that to her.

“My agent sent over the initial critic reviews earlier,” he says and her stomach plummets.

“And?” she demands, her voice wobbling slightly. Her confidence from a minute ago vanished.

This is the moment where she could sink, the moment this could all be over.

“And they’re good,” he almost whispers.

“Good,” she repeats and it’s not a question but he nods.

She wants to throw herself at him at the news, a couple of months ago she wouldn’t have even hesitated, but now she sits clenching her fists and trying not to smile too wide. It feels like a waste. She’ll never get this feeling again.

She turns to him and he’s smiling so she does what she’s wanted to for months. Aelin leans forwards and wraps an arm over his shoulders, pressing her chest to his.

His arms slip up slowly over her shoulders at first, unsure but gaining confidence as he tightens his grip around her, drawing her further into his chest. Aelin laughs a little, throwing her other arm around him and resting her face against his shoulder.

It’s not enough, it never could be with him, but it will do. She’s just happy he didn’t push her away.

Eventually, after a length of time that feels far too short, she pulls back to see him gazing down at her with an expression she can’t name. His brows are drawn in with his lips gently parted. He’s happy but apprehensive, open but distant. Aelin will take what she can and the distance between them has always been too far.

She wants nothing more than to close it, to draw herself into him and he into her, but she can’t. They’re here for one thing and one thing only and she refuses after what they’ve been through to mess it up again.

She knows he can read her own expression but she doesn’t care. She’ll hide from everyone and anyone but she’s realising she could never hide from him.

She wants Rowan, will probably want him for the rest of her life, but she made the call and he’s wrong, things haven’t changed.

Apart from all of the things that have.

The day of the premiere Aelin feels sick.

Her stomach twists and she tosses and turns all night and the dark circles under her eyes are brutal as a result. Her make-up artist tuts but diligently packs concealer on until Aelin looks well rested. Or as close as she can.

She’s trying not to think of the stretch of carpet she’ll have to walk tonight, a smile plastered across her face as she poses for the hundreds of cameras. Their premiere is one of the biggest of the season and, along with Fenrys, she’s the star.

She’ll have nowhere to hide.

Aelin sits in front of her mirror, her hair and make-up are done but she’s yet to get dressed. She takes herself in, making sure to note every strand of hair to every line of her lips, feeling as though she needs to remember this moment. The moment before it all explodes.

They’ve been building to this for almost a year now and this is as close to a culmination as she’ll get.

Her dress is something fierce. Endless, flowing velvet in the darkest shade of black. Long sleeves and a fitted bodice with an almost indecent dip in the back. The dress would be modest without that cut out, she can’t wear any underwear it dips so low.

It would be a simple dress, some might even dare to say boring, if it weren’t for the back. The majority of the fabric that remains is covered in gold embroidery taking the form of a dragon, coiled to strike. Aelin adored the dress the moment her stylist revealed it to her. She didn’t consider any of the other dresses, didn’t even acknowledge them as options.

The dress is what she needs, something strong, something to help her hold her head up high. She can walk the red carpet and stare down every single person who doubted her and know that they were wrong.

Aelin doesn’t need their approval. She doesn’t need the reassurance of faceless commenters, she doesn’t need the support of the magazines and the newspapers. She doesn’t need her mother’s approval. On anything.

Aelin is confident and self-assured and she can walk the red carpet knowing that.

Her sessions with Maeve have helped to reassure her stance, but she’s realising day by day she’s known it all along. It’s just taken a little bit of digging to uncover it.

She slips into her dress and it slides on like a second skin. She takes in her appearance, the arch of her brow and the red smirk of her lips makes her look intriguing, like a confident young woman.

Aelin was born to be an actress but she’s proud to say the sight in the mirror is real.

She poses for a few photos before she’s led out of her room and into the car, waiting to take her to the theatre.

She spends the ride in silence, barely listening to the jabbering of the aide in the car with her, and she focuses her thoughts on the calm before the storm. She takes deep breaths and centres herself the way Maeve has taught, she knows this could so easily be overwhelming but she’s determined to enjoy it.

The car stills and she can hear the noise of the crowd outside. She takes a final deep breath and allows her lips to spread into a smile. This one is genuine, nothing forced about it, and she pauses for one last beat.

This is big and Aelin is ready.

The car door opens and the sound hits her like a wave, slamming down onto her and it's so loud she can hardly think.

This is it. This is the moment she has dreamed of.

The nights where this image was all she could cling to to make it through could never have compared to how it feels standing here now, screams of her own name wrapping around her and urging her on.

Her steps are slow and purposeful as she glides down the path forged for her, the red carpet beneath her stilettos is plush and bright. She pauses where she’s instructed, rolling her shoulders back and smirking at the cameras with a hand on her hip.

She knows she looks incredible and the shouts of the photographers do nothing to change her mind. They are here for her, they’re all here for what she has accomplished, along with Fenrys, Manon, Chaol and Rowan and everyone else involved.

There are so many forces upon her, the flashing of the lights, the screams and shouts calling her name or Fenrys’, the magnitude of what this is could knock down a lesser individual but all it does is raise Aelin up.

She’s been through worse than this and survived, she’ll stare down the lense of all of these cameras, of everyone who has ever spoken her name and she won’t cower, she won’t just survive. She’ll thrive.

A warm hand lands on her waist and somehow the flashes of the cameras explode.

“Hey, golden girl.” Fenrys’ words are almost hard to hear even though his lips brush her ear. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Aelin wraps her arm around his back and grins, “I thought I’d at least show my face.”

He returns her smile and together they pose for the cameras, their shoulders back and smiles confident. She’s not sure this could be better.

Until she turns slightly to her left and gets flashes of silver where she and Fenrys are gold.

Rowan and Manon, posing for their own pictures mere metres away. He looks spectacular, the deep black of his tuxedo doing nothing but bringing out the depth of his tan and the shine of his silver hair.

He’s smiling his public smile and it’s gorgeous even though it’s not her favourite of his smiles, she loves the private ones he used to save just for her, and her own smile falters at the sight.

She’s here with Fenrys and it’s not wrong but it doesn’t feel right. The arm around her waist shouldn’t belong to Fenrys.

She should be where Manon is, smiling up at Rowan while they marvel at what they’ve accomplished. She knows her smile has dropped and she fumbles for anything to plaster onto her expression other than the longing she feels for Rowan.

As if she’d called his name he turns to her, green colliding with blue, and she knows he feels the same.

And that hurts far more than all of the months they spent apart.

All the months she spent hurting, trying to deny what she always knew, trying to pretend that they were anything other than a force of nature. They had been an eclipse, threatening to over take all of this but she was wrong. Rowan was wrong too.

It doesn’t matter whether everything or nothing has changed because she wasn’t right in the first place.

She should have known better than to think that whatever flimsy decision she made could halt what they were, what they should be.

She can only hope he forgives her. She can only hope he feels the same.

But the thing about this new Rowan is that she can’t read him the way she used to read her Rowan, she can’t tell if the way he steels himself and turns away from her is a dismissal or if the look they shared had been just as painful for him as it had been for her.

“A masterpiece.” - Rifthold Reporter

“Fenrys Moonbeam shines alongside Aelin Ashryver in The Crescent City. See our full review here.” - Wyrd Stone

“Latest Rowan Whitethorn flick smashes Box Office records.” - Valg Weekly

“Unapologetic, daring and thought provoking. Award nominations expected to follow for The Crescent City.” - Terrasen Tribune

Her phone has not stopped buzzing for the past four days.

Dorian texts every waking hour with the updates he gets, the numbers coming in and all her latest offers. It’s surreal. She knew they were good but she’s not sure she ever really expected this. Aedion texts her a picture every time he sees or hears her name, it should be terrifying the frequency with which he texts her but she has to fight back her smile each time he does.

She managed to find an hour the night before to call Lysandra and the majority of their call had consisted of Aelin repeatedly asking what the fuck was happening while Lysandra cackled down the phone.

She’d even got a text from Lorcan. It was alright, he’d written. Followed by, I hope I die before ever having to watch you make out with someone like that again.

She’d sent three middle finger emojis and a kissy face in response.

Now is probably not the best time to move to a different country but she’d signed her name on the papers two days before the premiere and Rifthold is calling, irrespective of the fact she’s only been back in Orynth for two days.

Most of her stuff headed out yesterday with the moving company leaving Aelin with two suitcases to fly back to Rifthold with tomorrow.

There’s one last place she needs to go before she heads back to finally get a good night's sleep before her flight tomorrow. She’s never set foot in this graveyard before, she’s never had the courage to dare before, but she’s emboldened. By the success of the movie, by her progress in the past year, by her sessions with Maeve. This has felt like a natural step.

The shining, black headstone is understated and classy and completely to his taste.

Sam Cortland. Beloved son and brother, taken far too soon.

Aelin waits with her head bowed, allowing all of her emotions to rush through her veins. She doesn’t fight them, it would be pointless to try, and she embraces the tears that gather. Eventually she steps forwards, placing the smooth, small stone on the crest of the headstone.

She rests her hand on the cool stone for a moment before sinking down and crossing her legs beneath her as she leans against it.

“I’ve missed you,” she says aloud, “I can almost hear you telling me to stop being such a sappy shit. I can’t help it, it’s been too long since I’ve seen you.”

She pauses, letting the wind drift through the field sweeping her words away.

There’s no one else here but her and Sam, no one else she’d want to hear her confession.

“I wonder what you would have made of all this. I think you’d tell me to enjoy it all, to not miss a moment, and I’m not. I’m just choosing the ones I want to savour. And this is one of them, Sam. I wish you’d been there with me, you would have loved it, the cameras, the lights, everything.

“I have to keep pinching myself to know it’s real, I did it, and I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to come and see you.”

She sighs, letting her head tip back to rest against the stone. She didn’t prepare anything to say, didn’t realise she’d even want to speak to the open air but here she is.

“I’m not the same Aelin as the girl you knew anymore,” she says after a few moments of silence. “I didn’t think I would have the capacity to love again after you but I did, and I feel terribly guilty that I do. I have to remind myself that this is what you would have wanted, you would have wanted me to be happy.”

The silence in the field is more than an answer enough. So typically Sam to give her an answer without so much as speaking a word.

“I was happy,” she says, trailing a fingertip along the words etched into the stone. “I will be again.”

A faint haze of sunlight drifts through the Orynth autumn clouds, a whisper compared to the chorus of brightness she misses in Rifthold, and she stands, brushing off the dirt from her jeans. She touches the stone one last time before turning and heading out of the graveyard.

Her visit was years overdue but her chest didn’t crack open the way she had expected, the tears hadn’t been relentless the way she had expected. She’ll visit him again the next time she’s back in Orynth, probably visiting Elide and Lorcan for Yulemass, and she’ll visit again and again for as long as she lives.

But for now, she has a plane to catch.

Months later and two days before the Oscars, when they’re all back in town for the ceremony held in her new home city of Rifthold, Fenrys throws another party.

She’s managed, this time, to stay in touch with Fenrys and Manon, having made up with the younger girl before the press cycle had finished. Aelin knows her upset was real but partly suspects the animosity was a front. She even finds herself participating in the group chat with the three of them and Rowan. She’s only texted him one to one once to wish him a happy birthday and they had caught up briefly but not texted since.

She’s missed him in a different way to the last time she missed him. This time missing him doesn’t feel necessary, it feels wrong not to text him, wrong to be away from him and she’s itching to see him again.

It’s no one's birthday this time but they’re all together again to celebrate, no matter the results they’ll see in two days. Aelin is very carefully measuring her excitement about her own nomination for best actress. Fenrys is up for best actor, Rowan best director and the movie best picture.

She’d almost dropped her phone in the toilet when she found out from Dorian a few weeks ago.

The party is small but still in full swing by the time she arrives. Big names from the industry, all in town for the ceremony, are scattered all around Fenrys’ Rifthold apartment. He’d bought a place here not long after Aelin and she’s secretly relieved she’s not the only one so moved by their experience.

She waves to a few people she knows and tries to stay calm when she spots Sartaq Khagan in the corner chatting away to a small group of people. Holy shit Fenrys has some famous friends.

Aelin finds herself a glass, tops her orange juice off with a splash of lemonade and begins her rounds. So many more people want to talk to her after the movie dropped.

Her mother had been one of them, and Aelin’s thumb had hovered over the accept button for a moment before decidedly pressing decline. She had blocked her mother’s number a moment later, and then she had made some calls closing the bank account her mother kept topped up and arranging for every penny she’d ever received from Evalin Ashryver to be paid back.

It had hurt, emotionally and financially, especially in the month she’d moved to Rifthold, but it had been worth it. To never let Evalin pass any judgement over her life again was a relief worth any cost. Aelin’s hoping there’s a possibility she could end up with a reward.

She doesn’t know how long she spends talking to big name after big name and it’s a realisation that drops onto her that she fits in here. Aelin Ashryver is a big name. No matter the outcome of the ceremony she has prospects, already a number of projects lined up and she’s loving every minute of it.

She drains her cup for the third time tonight and heads back into the kitchen. She’s barely seen Fenrys all night, and she doesn’t even know if Manon is here.

She frowns into the fridge, there was definitely a full bottle of orange juice in here the last time she topped herself up. She shuts the fridge and spins around.

“Looking for this?”

She should have known.

Rowan looks predictably gorgeous in the dim kitchen lighting. All tanned skin and silver smiles. He’s dressed in her favourite look of his too, worn denim jeans and a soft cotton shirt.

It’s the softness in his gaze that really takes her though, it seems the animosity from the last time they saw each other has faded if not disappeared. Her chest squeezes at the thought. She has no idea what could have triggered it but she will take it.

“Nope,” she says, stepping over to where he stands with an arm braced against the counter at his side, the other holding out a bottle of orange juice. “I was hoping Fenrys would have some chocolate in there but I guess this will have to do.”

She takes the bottle from him, her fingertips brushing his and she feels her cheeks heat at the innocent brush.

His smile is genuine and she knows what he’s remembering because she’s thinking of it too. The first time she visited his house during filming and their moment in the kitchen. They’ve been through cycles, she supposes, but hopefully now for the better.

“I’m sure we can find you some somewhere in here,” he says as she fills her cup, pulling open the cupboard next to his head.

Aelin smirks. “I’m going to leave the rummaging through Fenrys’ cupboards to you. You could find anything in there.”

Rowan winces, closing the door before returning her smile. This is friendly and the hope that’s been planted in her chest begins to sprout.

“Yeah, maybe not,” he says with a conspiratorial smile. “We wouldn’t want to risk it.”

Aelin pauses for a moment, taking in the glory of him in front of her. He’s still Rowan, he’s still tall and deliciously broad. His silver hair is slightly more grown out and there are a couple more lines around his eyes but she doesn’t care, in fact it’s charming. He’s still and always will be stunning. She takes a sip of her drink before she takes one of her biggest risks so far.

“I’ve missed you,” she says, not daring to look away from his face.

He bites his lip, his tongue darting out to soothe the skin before he speaks. “I’ve missed you too.”

The smile that spreads across her face is all too telling but he’s smiling too so she doesn’t think it matters. He definitely feels the same and she’d be annoyed at the months she spent worrying but the relief is too sweet.

“Good,” is what she says, far too happy they’re here to bother with pretending she’s anything other than ecstatic. “Congrats on your nomination.”

His eyes dart to the floor and then back up at her, he’s too modest about his own skill and Aelin adores it. “Thank you,” he says softly, “you too.”

“Thanks,” she says. “I couldn’t have done it without you. All of you.”

“Me neither,” Rowan says.

He’s close to her now, closer than he has been to her for months and her skin cries out for contact. She almost can’t believe she’s here now, talking to Rowan without any animosity, days before the Oscars that she’s nominated in.

The smile that takes over her face is completely of its own accord. She’s floating and it seems Rowan is too if the beat they share, exchanging incredulous smiles, is anything to go by.

“It’s crazy, right?”

She’s been asking herself the question for so long it seems only natural it slips out to him.

He laughs softly, and the rough sound curls straight to her core.

“Definitely,” he agrees, his voice low. “I don’t think last time felt like this.”

Aelin slaps a gentle hand to his chest and ignores the thrill that shoots through her at the eventual contact. “I get it, this is not your first nomination.”

Rowan rolls his eyes and she didn’t know how much she missed this, playing with him. She adores his reaction every time, the begrudging amusement he only lets shine through to make her smile.

“Some of us have never been nominated before, this is all completely new.” Aelin takes a sip of her drink. “I had to give up my social media accounts to Elide, it got so crazy.”

Something flickers over Rowan’s face at her comment. “Really?”

“Yeah,” she says, her eyes darting across his face trying to decipher the expression. “She’s always had access and I still do so I can post if I want to but it just became a lot. It stopped being fun when I would see what people were saying, whether it was good or bad I don’t want to see it anymore.”

Rowan nods before his eyes lock onto hers, the intensity in his expression shreds her control.

“And you said nothing had changed?”

Aelin gets it now.

She shifts her weight, leaning as close to him as she can without sliding herself completely into the circle of his arms. “I was wrong. Lots of things have changed,” she says, her voice quiet but strong. “And lots of things are now right that weren’t before.”

She doesn’t mean to skirt around the truth, hiding in veiled words and double meanings, but as always, Rowan sees her. He sees her meaning and he smiles. It’s the most beautiful smile Aelin has ever seen him wear.

“I’ve been looking for you two.”

Fenrys bursts into the kitchen, startling Aelin back from Rowan. She hides her guilty smile in her drink and notices Rowan doing the same. Fenrys just grins, clearly enjoying whatever he thinks he’s seeing.

“You’re missing out, we’re playing kings in the living room if you want to join?”

Rowan glances at her before he turns back to Fenrys. “I think we’re good, thanks.”

Fenrys’ smile turns smug and Aelin resists the temptation to flip him off. She’s in too good of a mood to be annoyed at him.

“Okay, see you later, lovebirds,” Fenrys says, already on his way back out of the door.

Aelin pretends she isn’t blushing as she turns back to Rowan, his green eyes shining.

“This might sound crazy,” he says with an alluring tilt to his lips, “but do you want to get out of here?”

She’s reached a point she truly never thought she would.

She’s an Oscar-nominated lead actress in a box-office-record-breaking movie.

She’s happy, healthy and out from underneath the thumb of Evalin Ashryver.

The part that’s most uplifting, the part that has her unable to wipe the smile off her face as she strolls down the streets of Rifthold, is the arm she has tucked through Rowan’s.

They’ve been walking for a little while, enjoying the cool night air and the ease with which they managed to sneak out of Fenrys’ party. Her heels are killing her and Rowan very graciously offers her an arm to lean on and each time she takes a step in time with him she smiles.

“I never thought I’d like doing television,” he says.

She didn’t know he’d taken on a miniseries, similar to the one she’d done after filming, but she’s loving the recap she’s getting of the months they’ve been apart. The chill of the air is more than fought off by the warmth of Rowan by her side. The streets are mercifully empty and she can bask in the knowledge that it’s just the two of them out here, that they’re insignificant, that anyone who sees them will immediately dismiss them.

“I always thought I’d stick to movies, singular stories but I enjoyed it. I guess change can be good.”

Aelin laughs softly and squeezes his arm. He looks down to her, a question written in the slant of his brow.

“Change can definitely be good,” she says as she takes in the sights of the skyscrapers surrounding them. “I would know that I suppose.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I bought a flat recently.”

“You did?”

He’s so graciously giving her the floor to say what she needs to say and she holds his arm even tighter.

“It’s right here in Rifthold.” Aelin avoids his gaze, lest he think it’s a speedy invitation and that that’s all this is. “I bought it just after we were back here for press, I realised that I adore Rifthold and being here. I missed it when I wasn’t here and I don’t feel there’s anything holding me in Orynth anymore.”

Rowan laughs softly, his feet scuffing the floor.

“What?” she demands.

“I swear I’m not following you,” he says and she feels a smile creep onto her face. “I bought a loft here too.”

Aelin gasps. “But your house was gorgeous!”

Rowan’s smile twists as he looks away from her. “I didn’t say I sold the house.”

Aelin cackles as she squeezes his arm, the sound joyous and bright as it echoes around them. “I knew being Mr Big-Name-Director has its perks.”

“It does,” he agrees with a smirk.

Aelin wants to kiss that smirk. Wants to pull him down and twist her fingers through his hair as his own tangle along her skin.

Instead she says, “I copied you somewhat too.”

He only raises a brow.

“I bought a piano like the one in your house. It was too big for my old flat in Orynth and so I knew what I had to do.”

“That’s good,” he says as his arm drops out of hers. She almost pouts until he instead tangles their fingers together. Her smile says it all, reflected back in his own. “You play beautifully.”

“Thank you.” Her cheeks are glowing. “You’ll have to come over and I’ll play for you sometime, neighbour.”

“I’d love to.”

Aelin slows, using the hand tangled with his to pull him to a stop too. Her free hand trails a gentle path up his chest before coming to rest at his collar, her fingertips tracing the golden skin peeking out from his shirt. His free hand finds her waist.

They’re close, closer than they have been in such a long time when he speaks.

“I don’t know what you think has or hasn’t changed.” His hand leaves hers to cup her cheek. “But I still feel the way I used to about you.”

Her heart takes off, pounding within her chest.

“I do too, Rowan.” Some of the easiest words she’s ever said to him. There’s something about the way the streetlights shine through the silver tips of his hair and the way his calloused fingers feel between hers that she’s feeling brave. “I loved you then and I love you now.”

His eyes flicker across her face as his smile dawns, taking over his face as he smiles so brightly. This is all she’s ever wanted, to have a Rowan like this, with pure, unfiltered happiness in his eyes as he looks at her.

“You love me?”

“I do. To whatever end.”

His lips are barely a whisper from hers and she only acknowledges the thought that they’re in public for long enough to realise she doesn’t care.

“And I love you.”

His words are simple, but sweet. They wash over her and settle into her skin as his lips land on hers. He kisses her with what she can only describe as love. His lips pour devotion onto her and his hands light a fire inside her as he tastes her tongue.

They kiss for longer than she can keep a track of, wrapped up together illuminated only by the street lighting. She’s missed this, missed him, and she can’t help but feel right when his hands are on her. She can’t help but feel right as she stretches onto her toes to throw herself into his kiss.

This was never wrong, this was one of the first things she knew was right.

She loves him and he loves her and nothing and nobody else matters.

She doesn’t win the Oscar, and neither does Rowan. Fenrys does and she screams herself hoarse cheering him on as he makes his way to the stage.

The moment that takes the cake is when The Crescent City takes best picture. She takes to the stage with some of her best friends to recognise what they achieved together and maybe she is a soppy shit but she definitely cries. Fenrys laughs at her and Manon grins but Rowan just throws his arm around her shoulders and it's worth it.

Afterwards, she logs into her Instagram account for the first time in a long time. She posts a picture of Rowan looking absolutely delicious with his tux unbuttoned and his bow tie hanging untied around his neck with a greasy burger in one hand and hers in his other.

Posting him is a statement but she doesn’t care. In fact, she wants the world to know. She wants the world to know that nobody does it like he does. Nobody does it like they do.

#rowaelin #nobody does it like you do #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #throne of glass #rowaelin au #ndilyd #i cant believe it's the last part of this fic #crazy #hope you all enjoyed

[yslyunho]

memories of what we had (0)

whilst travelling the world in an attempt to prove that you don’t need a man to make you happy, you meet someone who just might change your mind.

park seonghwa x reader 

suggestive, angst, bit of fluff 

series masterlist

word count: 1k

will not include all the warnings about the smut because this is a long fic but i promise you they will not be as headstrong as my previous works

A/N: IT’S FINALLY OUT! it’s been so long i don’t even remember where i planned this to go but here is part one of my first miniseries, sorry for the wait. big cliffhanger ig, hopefully the next chapters will be longer, enjoy

you don’t speak japanese, but the predatory look in the man’s eye is all too familiar to you. you gently pry away from him and turn to the bathroom, but not before you see a fist plant itself in the stranger’s face. 

“don’t you dare put your hands on her again, you hear me?” says the owner of the fist.

the moment’s a blur. one minute you’re politely declining a drink, the next, you find yourself pushed out into the sticky summer air, pressed up against the alleyway wall with none other than park seonghwa’s lips on yours again.

“you’re mine, you’re fucking mine, and no one else’s, you got that??” he growls, sucking harshly on your neck, completely oblivious to your scrabbling hands trying to push him away. 

“seonghwa? seonghwa, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you ask, words muffled by his lips and the adrenaline rushing through your body. he doesn’t answer you, only kisses you harder and his grip on you tightens. 

“seonghwa. please, please stop.” you cry, pushing at him harder. you would be lying if you said this possessive side of him didn’t turn you on, but you can’t forget what he did to you and you know he’s only like this because of the immense amount of alcohol he’d just consumed. and you know that if he were sober he wouldn’t be anything like this. but you only start to panic when he forces your hands above your head, grips them tightly in one hand and starts to grope lower down your body. at this point, he’s overcome with lust and your tears are falling faster now. 

“you’re mine, y/n, didn’t you know?? only i can touch you like this, no one else will ever treat you like i do.” his head is at your chest now, slowly marking his way down your body and you’re afraid that if you don’t stop him now, you wouldn’t be able to stop him later.

“i said to fucking stop, seonghwa.” you say, and though you hate that your voice cracks a little, it seems to do the job. he slows slightly and looks up at you, loosening his grip slightly on your arms.

“if i were yours then why don’t you act like it?” you say, voice wavering whilst your tears continue to fall. “did the last few months mean nothing to you? what, i was just some little game for you? watch the poor little heartbroken girl open up to you before you break her as well?” you wrench yourself out of his grip but before you can leave, he’s pulling you into his chest.

“y/n? love why are you crying? don’t cry, baby, you know i don’t like it when you cry.” you scoff at his words, trying to push away from him, but he has a tight grip on you, softly wiping the tears from your face and stroking your hair. 

“can’t you see, seonghwa?? can’t you see that you are the reason i’m like this? you don’t get to fuck around with my feelings like that and then try to get back into my pants the moment you miss me. i trusted you, i trusted you and it hurt when you did what you did but i let it go. i let you go, seonghwa, because you pushed me away first, so you don’t have the right to keep stringing me on like this.” you stop talking after a while, realising that in his drunken state he wouldn’t be taking any of this in. “just leave me alone, seonghwa, you made it clear enough that you don’t want anything to do with me.”

and with that, you walk away, holding yourself as strong as you can until he’s out of sight. only when you’ve found a park bench a few streets away do you let yourself cry again. you let yourself cry before you pick up your guide book and look for a place to go. a place where you won’t see him again and won’t be plagued by the memories of your picturesque romance turned into bitter betrayal. 

it took you a day to choose where to go, find a cheap flight and pack all your belongings. having been across half of asia already, you decided it would be a nice change to go to europe next. two films and a stopoff at singapore later, you find yourself waiting to board your second plane which would take you the 6765 miles to london, where you would be spending your next week before interrailing through the rest of the continent. you’d been quite proud of yourself for all the research and reservations that you’d booked to ensure a smooth journey and you fully planned on enjoying it to the full.

waiting for the little train that would take you to terminal 3, you smiled briefly as you remembered the last time you were here, standing next to seonghwa and giggling obliviously as tourists cooed at the cute couple. pushing the memory away, you stepped forward as the train doors opened, only to be pushed back slightly as someone slipped in, dragging a huge grey holdall. a glimpse of dirty blonde hair shocked you for a second and you shook your head slightly. it couldn’t be him, what were the chances of him boarding a flight to the same airport on the same day? sighing, you ripped your gaze away from the retreating blonde head and sat down on the train wondering if you were seeing things. after all, he had a black bag not a grey one.

two hours later you’re making yourself comfortable in a business class seat, having been upgraded (for free!). glad for the extra leg room, you settled down for the long flight, hoping for an uninterrupted sleep, but clearly someone had other ideas. a slightly familiar grey bag bashes into your shoulder, followed by frantic apologies from its owner. you’re quick to wave them away and close your eyes again, but something in the back of your mind is ringing: grey holdall, blonde hair. the thought doesn’t register until your name is gently called and your eyes shoot open at the all too familiar voice. because what were the chances that the very man you were hoping to escape from was sitting in the seat opposite you on a 14 hour flight.

#there will be a pt2 i promise #but only if you want it #i am very sorry for this #i have pt2 in my drafts actually but it will take a while to come out from there #thank you for your patience #seonghwa #park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #ateez angst #ateez smut #ateez imagines #seonghwa smut #seonghwa angst #seonghwa scenarios #seonghwa imagines #ateez scenarios

[lalka-laski]

Are you independent or dependent? I rely on others a lot but that's ok. Life is a collaborative effort and no one can do it all on their own.

If you could put your life into a category, where would it go? Mess?

How many animals do you have? Zero, and I have no intentions of getting any

Are you popular? I have a lot of friends and I'm well-liked so, I guess? "Popular" is a weird term though.

What time were you born? 5:45 pm

Have you had any candy this week? Mhm, I made Heath bar cookies the other night (INCREDIBLE) and have been munching on them every day since.

Are you more afraid of tornadoes or hurricanes? Neither are particularly likely where I live so I don't have to worry

Do you like those nerd glasses? ??

Have you ever been in a fist fight? Absolutely not

What color is your house? I live in a brick apartment building

When was the last time you saw a rainbow? I couldn't tell ya

Have you ever ate a crayon? I don't think I have

Ever rode in a helicopter? Nope, and I have no desire to

Do you like rabbits? I love them. They're the only pets I've ever owned.

Do you like mushrooms? I'm warming up to them as I get older. The texture still freaks me out a little bit though. It feels like I'm chewing on an ear... What was the last movie you cried at? I cried SEVERAL times while watching the miniseries Maid. That show really put me through the ringer!

What ice cream flavor best describes your personality? Oh this is a fun question! I'd say mint chocolate chip because I'm classic, generally well-liked, and sweet with just a HINT of darkness.

Would you rather work for a small or large company? It depends entirely on the management of said company. I work for a smaller company now and sometimes I miss the anonymity of larger corporations. It's easier to fly under the radar when you're one of hundreds of other employees.

Where’s your favorite place to buy clothes? Lately it's just been Amazon because I'm greedy and impatient.

How many languages do you speak? Just English and a decent amount of Polish

What was the worst movie you’ve ever seen? It's hard to say because I LOVE me some cheesy, made-for-tv rom-coms. The "worse" a movie is by industry standards, the more likely it is that I'll LOVE it.

What video game have you played the most? I never got into video games. I guess I've played Mariokart or something like that the most, but even that was infrequent.

What was your favorite TV show as a child? LIZZIE MOTHAFUCKING MCGUIRE.

What’s your favorite sport? Soccer

If you were given a brand new yacht, what would you name it? Lady Stardust

Do you believe there’s life on other planets? There has to be!

What is one thing you’re really bad at? Math. Anything that requires logic and reason. Drinking in moderation.

Do you believe in angels? I sure do

Would you rather be a famous actor or musician? An actor, considering I don't have much musical talent. Not to say I don't have acting chops either buuuut, I think I'd have a better shot. If you could have invented one thing, what would it have been? Anything that would make me millions of dollars

What’s your favorite exercise workout? Pilates, yoga, walking

What’s your favorite thing to do? Reading, writing, cooking, crafting, napping

What did you do for your 17th birthday? It was way too long ago to remember

Does your local Wal Mart have benches in them to rest? I think so?

Was your favorite stuffed animal really a teddy bear growing up? Yep, and his name is Lemonade!

If your house was haunted, what would you do? Move the FUCK out. I'm not taking any chances with that stuff.

Are you crazy in love currently? Sure am

Are you good at swimming? I could be better

What’s worse: Slow internet or slow walkers? Those are two of my biggest pet peeves so this question is a nightmare!

What is the rudest thing a guy has ever done to you? Broke up with me a matter of MINUTES after fucking :) :) :)

Do you sleep with the sheets tucked in or out? Out

What do you do to fall asleep faster? Scroll Reddit till I can't keep my eyes open

Do you carry a bottle of water wherever you go? No but I keep meaning to

Ae you afraid that one day you might get cancer? I mean, yeah

Do you usually have to wear a belt with your pants? I should but I don't

Does it bother you when people’s underwear hangs out? I don't care much

Are you usually the person to try new things with your hair? Not at all!

When’s your birthday? July 13

Do you own a bobble-head toy? Nope, I don't think I ever have

What color was the towel you used to dry off with today after a shower? I haven't showered yet today

Has anyone ever walked you home? Mhm

Have you ever liked someone and they were taken? Yes

When was the last time you went fishing? Years and years ago

True or false: You’ve read the book Lord of the Flies? True

Have you heard of the band Yellowcard? Yep, I liked them

Have you ever seen the show Teen Wolf? Nope

Do you have any quotes, lyrics etc on your walls? No, actually Are you a fan of Star Wars? Nah Has anyone ever told you that you have nice hair? Yes and I've actually gotten several compliments on it the past 2 days!

What brand of camera do you own? I don't own one

Is there something you’re not looking forward to? Life is just kind of a clusterfuck of stress right now

Have you ever read the book Thirteen Reasons Why? No but I have watched the series and it enraged me.

Do you wear white pants? Yeah, they're so fresh and fun!

When was the last time you were really angry? I've been grumpy all day thanks to my period. But I wouldn't say I'm "REALLY" angry

Have you ever made a 3 pointer in a basketball game? I've never played basketball

Do you think you look better with your hair up or down? Down, for sure

Do you warm up before you hardcore exercise? What hardcore exercise?

Do you want a pair of Converse shoes? They're not really my style

Are you more of a studs or hoops type of person when it comes to earrings? None of the above

How many shirts do you have of your favorite band? Just one actually

Have you ever wore a tie before? Nope

What did you have for breakfast this morning? Nothing. Unless you count the multiple cups of coffee I had Are you good at art? I'm decent

How many times have you read your favorite book? I'm not one to reread books, strangely enough.

Name one thing that you really hate. Birds

Have you ever tried walking on stilts? Nope, and I can only imagine how that would end up...

Is there a war that you find interesting? Not particularly?

Would you rather live in the city or country? City

Do you think $7 is too much for a movie ticket? Wow, that would be a STEAL! How old is this survey?

Would you like to be a newscast person? I did for a short period of time. I was a Journalism major my freshman year of college and although I was more interested in print, I toyed with the idea of trying out broadcasting.

Do you like word searches, coloring or crosswords better? I like all of the above!

Close your eyes and press a random key on the keyboard. i

How many William’s do you know? A few

What time did you wake up this morning? 7:30ish I think?

Do you enjoy crutches? Ummm.. does anyone?

What’s better: Snapple or Arizona tea? Arizona is my LOVE

Make a word out of the word: Dinosaur. Road When you were younger, did you play with legos? I had the big, clunky ones as a toddler. They were pink, of course.

Do you like Trix cereal? Not really. I'd eat it but it wouldn't be my first choice

Do you get nervous easily? Extremely

How long is your Facebook password? 11 letters

Do you like the movie Mean Girls? Of course

How do you want your wedding to be? Well I'm in the process of planning it now...

Have you seen the movie or show Catfish? Yep, both

Do you hate it when you arrive to something early? I'm always early thanks to my anxiety

Have you ever been on Omegle? Way way back in the day. It was the main event of sleepovers.

Are you still in love with one of your exes? Absolutely fucking not

Do you think it’s attractive when guys wear beanies? It can be

What’s something that makes you feel shy in public? Everything?

Do you like the shows on MTV? Do they even play anything besides Ridiculousness these days?

If you could go back and relive one day, what day? Well at this point I'd like to relive a specific incident a few weeks ago so I could reverse my behavior and make my life easier. Wishful thinking

What’s one word you hate to be called? Sweetie

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

A Goddamn Virgin - Babe Heffron

I came up with this because I just finished my latest rewatch.

No disrespect meant to the actual heroes. Just a fic about the actors’ portrayal in the HBO miniseries.

Pairing: Babe Heffron x reader Word Count: 7,202 Synopsis: The reader joins the war as an alrady engaged nurse to Easy Company. After befriending Bill, the reader meets Babe and they start a relationship that can’t be undone. (I’m so bad at summaries.) Warnings: Smut

“Y/N, you gotta come here!” Bill called from across the room, waving you over ecstatically. You laughed to yourself and followed through the room of crowded men. Bill was sitting at one of the benches with men you had known since the beginning, and a handsome red-head you hadn’t seen before. 

“What?” Luz slid down the bench, leaving a seat for you.

“I just wanted to introduce you to my new friend here.” You looked over at the red-head who held out his hand to you.

“Edward Heffron.”

“Nice to meet you. Are you from-”

“Philly,” Bill said with a smirk, he had recognized the accent as instantly as you had. “Y/N, here, also hails from Philly.” Edward nodded in appreciation.

“Not originally.”

“Right, right.” Edward looked at Bill, and the veteran soldier slapped his arm. “Y/N is engaged to someone from Philly.”

“So how did you get here?”

“My fiance convinced me to join the fight with him. He had no idea that I’d be assigned to the Airborne.”

“Where did he get assigned?”

“Army.”

“Y/N is a nurse. If you’re lucky, you won’t see her around too often.”

“Aww, Bill, you don’t like having me around?”

“No, he just doesn’t want another man competing for your attention,” Luz said, elbowing your arm. Bill had a few choice words for George, but the replacement only smiled and turned a slight shade of red. 

“Oh ho!” Joe cried out as your dart hit right on the nose. Buck gave you a high five and you smiled over at Heffron. 

“Not bad,” he said with a smirk.

“Not bad? I’d like to see you do better.”

“I wouldn’t start with her, Babe,” Bill said, walking over to the group.

“Babe?” you asked.

“Yeah, didn’t you hear?” Bill asked, grinning. You shook your head and watched Babe turn a shade of red. “Babe here got a letter from a broad back home?”

“Oh you did?” you asked, enjoying watching him smile.

“Maybe.” You laughed as Bill described it to you. The letter was from someone named Doris, and she dedicated it to “Babe,” hence the nickname. 

“Come on,” Babe said, “Are we gonna play darts or not?”

“Sure, Babe,” you said, winking at him when you said his name.  He rolled his eyes, and when you were beside him aimed his dart. 

“Bullseye!” he called out, making the men around you cheer.

“Not bad.” He laughed at your mimicking of what he said earlier.

“You’re really competitive.”

“I know,” you said, cocking your head. “Wanna bet?” Babe laughed and shook his head.

“What could you even offer up?” Your eyes were locked on his, the excitement of a competition and the chance to flirt hanging in the air. 

“Alright, Y/N, we can’t have you corrupt our dear old Babe here. That’s our job,” Bill said, butting in. 

“Fine, but he owes me a rematch once he’s nice and corrupted.” 

“Do you want some help?” It was at the accent in the voice that made you turned. Babe stood behind you, already holding the box of bed sheets and supplies you had given to Gene a few moments earlier.

You hadn’t seen Babe since Bill’s lost his leg. Before then, every time you vistied Easy, you made sure to spend some time teasing and flirting with Babe. He didn’t seem to mind, and he was one of the only bright faces you could look forward to. The two of you had created a special relationship you hadn’t ever had with anyone else.

“What are you doing here?” you asked with a smile.

“Gene needed help. I was the lucky bastard that got to come along.”

“Well, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” you said as Babe followed you out of the room. For soldiers that were still on the line, it was best to keep them out of the operating and holding room as much as possible. 

“Yeah?” he asked with a sloppy grin.

“Yes, but don’t go getting any ideas,” you said, walking him outside. 

“Oh, don’t worry, I know you’re taken. Bill made sure I knew that from the minute we met.” You smiled sadly. It had been a while since you thought about your friend, Bill. With all of the work you had at the aid station in Bastogne, it was easy to forget that Bill and Joe got their legs blown off.

Babe might have noticed the change on your face and took a seat on an overturned crate in the snow. He motioned for you to the do the same. “You’re a sight, too, Y/N.”

“How is everyone?” you asked after smiling in response.

“As well as they can be.”

“How are you?” He shrugged as a response. “As much as I miss you guys, I’m glad I haven’t seen many of you here.” Babe nodded and set his jaw. There was a look on his face that he was hiding something, and you wondered if you should push it or not. You weren’t very close, your entire friendship with Babe stemmed from knowing Bill. 

“Is there something I don’t know?” you asked, taking a leap by putting your hand over his. His face tightened. Tears might have begun to form in his eyes, but if they were ever there, he kept them down before you could fully see them. 

“This kid, Julian. He was a replacement in my foxhole. He got hit and I couldn’t save him.”

“I’m sorry.” He nodded, frowning.

“He was a kid. Looked like he never shaved. Told me he was still a goddamn virgin. Can you believe it?” He looked up at you, expecting you to laugh. You didn’t, instead just stared at your feet with a small smile. “Sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” you asked.

“I didn’t mean to make you-”

“Oh, you didn’t. It’s just- I am-” You stopped and laughed at yourself. Babe was confused, but then his face softened.

“Y/N, don’t tell me-”

“Yes, Babe, I am still a virgin,” you admitted, rolling your eyes. His mouth opened slightly and you watched the gears turn in his head as he tried to wrap his mind around what you just said. 

“You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re engaged.”

“Yeah.”

“And you’ve never?”

“No, Babe. That’s what being a virgin means.”

“And your fiance, he never tried to-”

“Jesus, Babe. Yes, of course, we’ve talked about it. And, don’t get me wrong, we haven’t been completely chaste.” Babe’s eyes brightened and you rolled your eyes.

“Are you trying to make me feel better or seduce me?” You laughed and shook your head.

“Make you feel better, but who knows. It’s certainly not coming off that way.” Babe laughed and you finally saw the weight of Julian leave him. Gene called out to him, and he turned his back from you. You felt the heat in your cheeks and wished it away. 

“Well, Y/N, if you ever want to not be a virgin, you know where to find me.” You rolled your eyes and stood with him.

“Good to know.” Babe laughed and picked up his box of supplies. 

“Thanks, Y/N. You’ve made me feel a whole lot better,” he said with a wink.

“Goodbye, Babe.”

“Y/N!” You turned at the sound of your name, but of course, you knew who it was. You would recognize that voice anywhere. Babe was hustling towards you, walking away from his friends who were in line to take a shower here in Hagenau.

You had noticed him a moment before, but considering how you acted around him the last time, you weren’t sure you wanted to relieve that humiliation. Besides, he was standing with the rest of the men in his platoon and they all looked pissed and exhausted.

“Hey, Babe,” you said once he rached you.

“I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

“What can I say? I can’t stay away from you.” You laughed awkwardly as Babe smiled. You didn’t know why being around him brought out this side of you. You reminded yourself over again that you had a fiance, but it was hard to think about him when you hadn’t seen him in over a year.

“Come to take me up on my offer?” You opened your mouth and then stopped yourself.

“No, Babe.” His smile faltered a little. “How are you doing?” He shrugged and you touched his shoulder softly. “Maybe I’ll catch up later, okay? I have to meet with my boss.”

“Sure. Or I can stop by to see you.” You raised an eyebrow at him and nodded.

“I’d like that.” Babe licked his lips as he went back to his platoon. You clenched your fists, not liking the feeling that you were getting when around Babe. 

An hour or so later, Babe found his way to the house you were staying in. He walked in with a smile and started talking but you shook your head to get him to shut up. Your boss walked into the room and forced a polite smile on his face.

“What can I do for you, soldier?”

“He just had a wound he wanted me to look at,” you lied. Your boss nodded.

“Okay. If you’ve got things handled here, I think I’ll go catch up with some of the boys back at company CP.” You nodded and looked at Babe until he left the room. Once he was gone, you invited Babe to join you on the couch.

“Sorry about that, he’s just a pain when he think I’m not working.” 

“No problem.”

“So, do you have any wounds you actually want me to take a look at?” you asked.

“No. I’m fine.”

“Well, Babe, you don't look fine.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your hair doesn’t have its usual bright-chipperness. You aren’t smiling like you usually do. And you haven't made any jokes about my virginity.” Babe laughed, throwing his head back in a way that made your heart flutter.

“I showered, which I thought might brighten my hair, but if you think another will help we can go-” You rolled your eyes as Babe laughed aloud. “I”m sorry.”

“As long as you’re smiling, it’s okay.” Babe laid his arm around the back of the couch. 

“How are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m alright. Missing home.”

“And your fiance?” he asked, looking up at you. You sighed.

“Sometimes. And sometimes no. There’s just so much leading up to our return that it’s more terrifying than staying here. Please, don’t think I’m being insensitive,” you said as Babe made a face at your comment, “I know the dangers here, and I wish every day that the war will end. I've just gotten used to these people, and being here, that I’m afraid of what I’ll see when I return home.”

Babe nodded somberly. “I know. I’m feeling the same way too. When I get home, there will be nobody who will understand.” You reached out and put a hand over his.

“There won’t be nobody. You do live in the same town as Bill and I.”

“Yeah, but the second you get home you’ll be making babies.”

“Don’t remind me,” you said, falling back on the couch. “As if it’s not scary enough going home, I have a lot to live up to.”

“What do you have to live up to?” Babe asked, watching you. 

“You know.”

“No, I don’t. Your fiance would be insane if he doesn’t go crazy when he’s with you. Like I’ve said before, Y/N, you are totally gorgeous.”

“You’re such a flirt,” you said with a smile. Babe blushed and held out his hand. You took it and he squeezed your hand.

“Everything will be fine. As soon as you get home, everything will go back to normal. But, if you are really that nervous, I could help you become more familiar with it.”

“Could you?” you hummed.

“If you’d like.”

“Are you sure you aren’t too tired?” Babe laughed and stood up, holding out his hand. You took it and he pulled you up.

“I can never be too tired for you.” You smiled and let him pull you closer. “The most important part is the build up. You want your partner to be just as excited as you are.”

“And that involves dancing?” you asked as he entwined his fingers with yours. His arm was on your back, keeping your chest close to his. There was no music, but Babe was feeling the rhythm nonetheless. 

“Sometimes.” He swayed your bodies back and forth making sure to keep his eyes on your face at all times. 

“Who taught you all of this? One of your past girlfriends?”

“You don’t believe I just knew this all from the start?”

“No,” you said with a smile. Babe spun you around, making you giggle softly.

“I never had a lot of girlfriends. In fact, no one really took a second look at me until I joined the Paratroopers.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re hot.” Babe cackled, throwing his head back again so much that you fell forward with him. 

“See, I told you you would be fine.” You pulled yourself back up into his chest, and your eyes locked at the same moment.

“So what happens next?” you asked. 

“Hopefully,” he said, coming to a stop, “You’ve created the right kind of mood that would invoke a physical reaction.”

“Like?”

“Like a kiss,” he said, moving again, dipping you softly as he spun you in a half circle. 

“And who initiates that?” Babe smirked and shook his head.

“You’d never think that the beautiful ones are the ones who don’t know what they’re doing.”

“Hey, if you want me to find someone else,” you offered, backing away from him. He didn’t let go of his grip on your hand and pull you back to his chest.

“No, I never said that.” You smiled and looked up at him. You had never realized how tall Babe was. He definitely wasn’t the tallest in the company, but standing this close, you saw that he was a good bit taller than you. He was much taller than all of the other men you had met from Philly, including your fiance.

“What?” he asked. You shook your head. You didn’t know why you had a million thoughts on his height or a million more on everything else about him.

“Just thinking.”

“About what?” he asked, his face growing more serious.” You looked him in the eye, wondering if he was feeling the same tension when you were together that you were. Of course, Babe always joked with you about how gorgeous you were and having sex, but you couldn’t fully tell if his feelings were genuine.

“Nothing.”

“Your fiance?” You looked up into his eyes and shook your head.

“No.”

“Why not?” he asked, “I thought we were doing this to-”

“We were- are. It’s just, you’re nothing like him.” Babe set his jaw, and you made up your mind right then and there. Babe wasn’t like your fiance. He wasn’t like anyone you had ever met before. He made you feel in a way you had never felt before. In fact, Babe was so much unlike your fiance and every other man you had met, that you weren’t thinking about anyone or anything else when you leaned in to kiss him. 

Babe was taken by surprise, but quickly recovered and found his balance by putting his hand on the back of your head. You smiled into the kiss, realizing that his lips were as soft as they looked. He deepened the kiss with a slight turn of his head and you started to feel more than butterflies in your stomach.

Feeling like you never had before, you pulled away for air. You stared at Babe and watched him open his mouth to say something. You shook your head, your eyes locked together.

You kissed him again and this time Babe was more sure of himself. You let his arms wrap around your waist as yours went on his cheek and neck. Babe said he never really had a girlfriend, but the way his tongue moved contradicted that.

He backed you up to the couch you had been sitting on before, and you fell onto it. You looked up at him and laughed. He stood wide-eyed and breathless. You said his name softly.

“Sorry,” he said, leaning over you again, planting a few kisses to your face.

“Babe.” 

“I’m sorry, I just never thought this would happen. Even in my wildest fantasies-”

“We don’t have to,” you said. Babe shook his head and sat down next to you. He took your hand in his. 

“No, believe me, I want to.” You blushed and gave his hand a squeeze. “I just- I’m worried.”

“About what?”

“I’m worried that if we do this, there will be no hiding my feelings for you.”

“I understand.” Babe bit his lip and searched your face for a good minute before speaking again.

“So, let’s just do it as a teaching lesson.” Your eyes brightened as his eyes landed on yours again. He leaned in closer, making sure his movement was more deliberate this time. He moved slowly as his lips connected with yours.

With his hand on your cheek, he was in control of your movement. You let him have it gladly. Even if you were more experienced, kissing Babe was an adventure you were happy for him to lead. Each move he made, each time he kissed you and re-kissed you was a surprise and sensation you weren’t expecting.

Your hands went to the collar of his jacket, hoping to show him that you weren’t completely helpless. You started to work the buttons on his thick coat, and Babe smiled through his kiss. Once his jacket was off, Babe pulled you into his lap and planted his hands on your hips.

His eyes trailed your body, moving from your face down. His hands rubbed your skin as he analyzed every detail of your body. You made a quip about him looking instead of doing and his lips met yours again. After a few kisses there, they traveled along your jaw and down your neck.

You breathed in pleasure, grinding your body into his lap. Babe smiled against your skin and sucked hard on your collarbone. You moaned and gripped his shoulder. Babe laughed and made his way back up your neck. He peppered kisses all along it, leaving a few hickies in his wake.

“Am I being informative?” Babe asked with a sweet smile when you pushed him away to catch your breath. You rolled your eyes and sat down in his lap. Before, you had just been straddling him. 

“Fairly so.” He gripped your hips and pulled you flush against his skin. When he did, you felt a pressure in his lap you hadn’t felt earlier.

“Are you enjoying this?” you asked, smirking slightly.

“Very much,” he said, keeping his hands on you, grinning up at you. “Are you?”

You cocked an eyebrow at him. Babe knew you were enjoying yourself. He had complete control over the situation, and you were determined to show him that he wasn’t the only one able to drive someone crazy. 

“Yes. In fact, I’d like to thank you for being so helpful.” You stood up and dropped down to your knees, watching Babe’s face turn the brightest shade of red you had ever seen. He scooted to the edge of the couch, keeping his eyes locked on yours as you unzipped his pants. 

As you had felt earlier, Babe was already pretty hard for you. You helped him out of his pants, and started massaging his dick. He watched you, a calmness seeming to wash over him. In the rhythmic motion your fiance had taught you a long time ago, you gave Babe the best hand job you had ever given.

When you told him that you and your fiance hadn’t been completely chaste, this is what you were referring you. You kissed along the edge, working your way up to his tip. Babe bucked his hips and you smiled before taking him in your mouth.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, gripping your hair. You couldn’t help but smile as you sucked his dick. You would never tell anyone this, but Babe was a few inches longer than your fiance.

You continued sucking and kissing and massaging his dick for the next few minutes before Babe pulled you off. He laid on the couch, running his hand through his hair and staring off at the wall for a few moments. You laughed and he looked up at you, smiling.

“You sure you’re a virgin?” You giggled and Babe stood up, kissing you again. “Let’s go downstairs.” You nodded and led him down there. You found a private room and kicked open the door. Before you could even reach the bed, Babe ripped off your dress and panties and threw them in a pile by the door.

He was backing you up to the bed, laying you down carefully. He kissed you a few more times, rubbing against your entrance. While he kissed you, his fingers traveled down your whole body and he started fingering you. At contact, you moaned and threw your arms over your head. 

He took his hand away and licked his fingertips. You let out another groan and grabbed his face with your hands, kissing him deeply. He started to push himself into you, but you shook your head.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, looking at you with concern.

“Absolutely nothing,” you said, kissing him again. “Just, you’re exhausted and this is probably the first time in a long time that you’ve got to relax, yeah?” Babe shrugged and you pushed him onto his back. 

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I want you to relax,” you said, throwing your leg over him again. You fit him inside you and moaned out softly. Babe quickly backed up to the headboard and smiled.

“You’re amazing.” You smirked and kissed him softly as you started rocking your hips. His hands gripped your waist, leaving small nail indents. After a few beats, Babe started pushing into you. You let him take the lead for a while, enjoying watching him move and his face as he trailed your body with his eyes. 

Everyone had always told you what having sex for the first time would be like, but you never imagined it like this. It was supposed to hurt, women had told you, but you only felt slight pain when you first took him in. One of your married friends said that it was always what the guy wanted, but Babe had spent most of the night pleasuring you. 

You took control of the situation again as the pleasure started to take hold of Babe. His hands gripped your waist even harder, and he started kissing your breast. It wasn’t too soon after that you started to feel yourself losing control, too. 

Over and over Babe thrust into you, a new round of pleasure flowing over your body. You threw your head back as he pushed hard five more times. Babe pushed you off quickly and came on the sheets beside you. You smiled as he laid you down on your back.

“Here comes your most important lesson,” he said, kissing your abdomen. You ran your hands through his hair as his mouth traveled downwards and he soon started licking your clit. You felt yourself tighten up as he continued to kiss and suck expertly against you. Your legs started to thrash and your hips bucked before you came, crying out softly.

It was still freezing outside, so not too soon afterward you wrapped up in the blankets. Babe was staring up at the ceiling, a smile still on his face. You looked back at him, your face on the warm sheets.

“What?” he asked, looking down at you. You shrugged.

“Thank you.” Babe rolled his eyes and scoffed lightheartedly. 

“You don’t have to thank me for this.” You scooted up and wrapped yourself around the pillow. Babe looked over at you and turned so you were facing each other.

“I’d like to thank you anyways.” Babe blew air out of his nose and looked down. “By the way, if you couldn’t tell, you are amazing.” Even after everything that just happened, Babe still had the decency to blush.

“You flatter me. Don’t put yourself to shame though, Y/N. You were wonderful. You’re going to drive your fiance crazy when you get home.” You sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“Please, don’t apologize. I brought you both into my mess.” Babe brushed your hair behind your ear, making you turn to look at him. “Can I tell you the truth?”

“Yeah.”

“We did this because I was nervous about doing it with Anthony for the first time, but I didn’t think about him once during.” Babe didn’t say anything, but swallowed. That was the first time you had ever used your fiance’s name around any of the men. “Should I have?”

“I don’t know.”

“I always thought the man I’d lose my virginity to would be my husband, but . . .”

“Just because things didn’t play out the way you expected them to doesn’t mean that you still won’t get the happy ending you desired.”

“Do you still believe in happy endings?”

“I have to to get through all of this. We have to go on a patrol tonight, and if I don’t believe in happy endings, I’ll never get through tonight. If I don’t believe that I’ll get home in one piece, then I never will.”

“You have a patrol tonight?” As he nodded, you leaned forward and kissed him deeply.

“What was that for?”

“I don’t know. Maybe something to look forward to when you get back.”

“Yeah?” he asked with a lazy smile.

“Yeah.” 

“Thank you,” he said after he got out of bed and got dressed.

“What for?”

“For still being my friend after Bill left.”

“Well, Babe,” you said, lying on your stomach, “I may have met you because of Bill, but that’s not why I became your friend.”

“I’ll see you later.”

“Good luck.”

Babe came back from the patrol without a scrape, but the mission had put an emotional strain on him. When he came back to your house, you saw the look on his face and the actions of last night happened all over again.

This time, Babe was on top, always in control of the situation. He was frustrated, and you could feel it in everything he did. However, he was never anything but gentle with you.

“Will you tell him about me?” he asked, afterward. You looked at him, taken aback by what he was saying.

“I think so. One day.” Babe set his jaw and nodded. “I have to tell you something.” He didn’t say anything and didn’t look at you. “Anthony is getting shipped back. He took the better part of a grenade, and he’ll be fine, but he wants me to be there when he gets home.”

“That’s great, Y/N,” he said, getting out of bed.

“Babe,” you said, following him towards the door. He only had his pants on, if he walked outside his bare chest would be exposed to the cold. “Please don’t end this like this.”

“I’m not ending it.”

“I don’t even know if I can leave, nonetheless if I want to.”

“Wait, why wouldn’t you want to?” he asked, shaking his head.

“Because of you,” you said, shoving him softly. Since Babe got back from the patrol, he wasn’t acting like himself. He was reserved and angry. “I didn’t sleep with you because-” you stopped yourself and groaned, walking away from him. You started to gather up his things, not wanting to talk anymore.

“You didn’t sleep with me because what?” he asked, coming deeper into the bedroom.

“I didn’t sleep with you just because you wore me down. Since I got here I have had boys in my face, flirting with me, doing more than just asking. You told me that you were worried you couldn’t hide your feelings. It’s very clear that you don’t want to be around me right now, and that’s fine, but please don’t push me away because you can’t hide your feelings. You aren’t the only one.”

Babe looked into your eyes, his eyebrows scrunching. He shook his head and you laughed cynically, closing your eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” you said. “About all of it.” You were beginning to cry now. “I’m sorry I flirted with you constantly, I’m sorry I always threw my fiance in your face, I’m sorry I slept with you.”

“Y/N,” Babe said, shushing you, cupping your cheeks. “Why are you sorry?”

“Because I was selfish. I saw that you liked me, and I used that. I hurt you, and I hurt myself, and I’m sure I’ll hurt more. I love you,” you said, breaking down and falling into his chest. You sobbed, not really for him, or even your fiance. You cried for you because you knew what had to happen.

Babe held you to his chest, brushing your hair. He didn’t speak, and he didn’t try to stop your crying. He just held you because he knew what was coming as well.

“Y/N,” he said, pushing you back a little, “Don’t apologize to me. You didn’t use me. I knew what I was getting into.”

“I have to go home.”

“I know.” You shook your head and Babe dropped his hands from your arms. “Look me up in Philly.” You smiled a little and wiped at your eyes. 

“Get home safely,” you said. He picked his things back up, and started to leave. He reached for the door once more, and you stopped him once more. You grabbed his cheeks and kissed him with everything you had. 

“I lo-” You shook your head and opened the door for him.

“If you don’t say it, I won’t have to hear it.”

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

Life back in the States was already back to normal. Many veterans were returning home, eager to get their lives back on track. That included Anthony. 

The grenade that hit him shattered his shoulder and cut up his entire back. His arm was in a sling when he got home, but he still hugged you tightly. It was good to be back in his arms, you told yourself. They were strong and his muscles were defined. They were comforting, but they weren’t soft. Not like . . .

Once he got home, he wanted your wedding to happen right away. For the next months, as everyone around you planned, you watched the paper. Each day, a new soldier was coming home. Bill came home and was transferred to a hospital nearby. You had visited him only once. 

One day, after checking the paper, you vowed to never do so again. Maybe he would never come home, but if he did, you didn’t need to think about him. You were marrying Anthony and that was all that mattered.

Months later, it was June and sunny and you were getting married. You stood in front of the mirror, the stereotypical bride, admiring your dress. The women around you complimented you, but it all passed through you. 

There were certain silly things you were focusing on. One of your bridesmaids had a cold, and her nose was bright red. Another one was talking about how excited she was to dance, she could always feel the rhythm in any dance. Your mother raved about how Anthony would look when he saw you, breaking into a heartbreaking grin. 

You only nodded slightly at what your mother said. She soon led you out into the hall and to your father’s arm. He told you how proud he was of you. He had never said that when you came home.

The music started up and you saw Anthony. He stood at the end of the aisle, watching you with a serious look in his eyes. He cleared his throat, but other than that, he made no bright exclamation. Your father drew up your veil and you smiled at Anthony. He smiled back and took your hand. 

Maybe if you had been a different religion, you would have gone through with the ceremony. However, Catholic ceremonies were long and boring, and while the priest dragged on, you couldn’t help but let your mind run back to Hagenau. 

“Y/N?”

“What?” you asked, focusing your eyes back on Anthony.

“Do you take this man?” the priest asked again in a hushed tone. There was an uncomfortable mumbling passing over the cathedral. You searched Anthony’s eyes and he shook his head in confusion. 

“Y/N?”

“I need to talk to you,” you whispered. He laughed softly and looked around, slightly confused. “Please.”

“Alright,” he said, taking your hand. He walked you back up the aisle, not listening to the calls from both of your mothers. He led you out into one of the spare rooms in the cathedral and sat down on the couch. “What is it?”

“There’s something I never told you about the war.”

“What do you mean?”

“I thought I could forget about it and move on, but- I met someone. The company that I was around a lot. I got to know the men pretty well and I fell for one of them.”

“What do you mean you ‘fell’ for one of them?“

“I cheated on you. I fell in love with another man.” Anthony rubbed his thighs, trying to keep his cool.

“Did you kiss him?” You nodded and dropped your head into your hands. “What?”

“I didn’t just kiss him.” Anthony stood up and grunted something to himself as he turned away from you.

“Even after all the times I tried to get you to, after I proposed and everything? You wouldn’t until we were married, and then some prick manipulates you-”

“No, Anthony, he didn’t manipulate me,” you said, walking towards him. “It was my decision. It was what I wanted.” He rolled his eyes and looked up to the heavens for answers. It was a while until he spoke again.

“Why now? Why not tell me when I got home? Why not keep it secret forever? Do you still want to be together?” You felt the tears fill in your eyes and dropped down on the couch. “Baby?” he asked, crouching down in front of you.

“I’m sorry.” He sighed and used your knees as a way to stand.

“Yeah, me too.” 

“I do love you.”

“I love you, too, Y/N.” He kissed your forehead and walked towards the door, having to do the difficult job of telling everyone who came out for the event. You gathered yourself and sneaked back to the dressing room. You took your mothers keys and quickly escaped from the uproar that was about to happen.

A month later, your mother had all but threatened to kick you out. She had been staying in a hotel, ready to head back down south once the wedding was over. Each day she tried to get you to change your mind and each night your father tried to talk you back to your ‘senses.’

One afternoon, after they tried to gang up on you and bully you back to Anthony, you decided to head out to a bar. You ordered yourself a beer and sat at the bar alone. A group of men were watching the sports game on the tv in the corner, and you turned your head at one of the voices.

“Bill?” The bar was relatively empty, and those that were in there were silent as they watched the game. Because of this, Bill turned his head at the sound of his name. 

“Y/N?!” You smiled as he came to you on his crutches. He took a seat and you hugged him tightly. “What’s a gal like you doing here?”

“Hiding,” you said, ordering a beer for Bill. He nodded like he knew what you were talking about. “You heard then?”

“Word travels fast,” he said with a nod. “So you left him after everything you've both been through?” You nodded and took a swig. “Can I ask why?”

“After you left, Bill, I fell for someone else. I cheated on Anthony, and I thought I could forget about him, but I couldn’t. When I was in the cathedral, I saw him everywhere. When I walked down the aisle, I kept picturing another man in Anthony’s place.”

“Shit. No man wants to hear that.”

“He took it surprisingly well to tell you the truth. Maybe he met someone, too,” you said with a shrug.

“Well, he’ll never find one like you.”

“Hopefully he’ll find better.” Bill scoffed and put his hand on your arm.

“Don’t beat yourself up. No one talks about it anymore. You made the right call. You told him the truth and did what was best for you both.”

“Mind telling my parents that?” Bill laughed.

“Still haven’t forgiven you yet?”

“I don’t think they ever will, to tell you the truth.”

“I’m sure that’s not true. And if they’re giving you such a hard time, why don’t you just go back to that guy you met?” You looked over at him with a confused smile.

“You really don’t know?”

“Jesus, know what?”

“Know who I’m talking about.” Bill shook his head and you laughed. “Maybe he isn’t back.”

“Who?” You let out a breath.

“Babe, Bill. I fell in love with the idiot replacement you had to take under your wing.” His features changed from surprised to angry to joyous and back to surprised.

“He never said anything to me.” You smiled. “Although, he did seem like he was holding something back when he got home. He wasn’t the same but no one is. Why don’t you go to him?”

“I’m afraid I screwed that up.”

“Y/N, come on, I’m sure-”

“No, I did. I told him we had to move on, and I hope he did.” You put money on the bar and smiled at Bill. “I’ll call you.” He raised his glass to you and watched as you walked out of the bar.

Bill called you up three days later and asked if you wanted to meet him for dinner. He even promised that he would pick you up and you could tell your parents it was a date, in the hopes of getting them off your back. You agreed, of course.

You walked down the street together, reminiscing with Bill about the good ol’ days when you first met.. He told you about a woman he was talking to. And just as you got to the bar he asked you how you were doing.

“I’m fine.” Bill beamed as he opened the door and you looked at him in confusion. “What?”

“Y/N?” Inside the bar, someone said your name. Again, it was the accent in the voice that got your attention. Babe sat at the bar, looking back at you with a smile.

“Bill,” you called, waiting for him to come up behind you. He was grinning proudly. “What the hell?” you asked, turning to face him. 

“Just talk to him.”

“You tricked me.”

“Because you wouldn't have come if I told you why I was bringing you here.” He pushed you forward so you were closer to Babe. He looked like he did at the beginning of the war, allbeit more grown up and serious.

“I’m sorry Bill dragged you into this,” you said. 

“Ah, don’t worry about it.” He smiled at you and you felt the familiar butterflies. “Can I get you a drink?”

“God, yes.” You took a seat by him and when the beer came sliding your way you took a long swig of it. 

“How’ve you been, Y/N?” Babe asked, biting his lip. You looked at him knowingly and shrugged.

“How are you?”

“Good.”

“When did you get home?”

“A few months ago.” You looked at him and he smiled sympathetically. “I heard.”

“Who didn’t?” He looked down at his glass, sighing. “I told him.”

“Good,” Babe said, nodding his head. You settled into an uncomfortable silence, each staring at their glass.

“Hey, Babe, Y/N!” You both turned and saw Bill standing across the bar, right next to the dartboard. You shook your head but stood, Babe following close behind.

“You’re relentless,” you said once you reached Bill. He handed you the darts with a smirk.

“You still as good as you were?” he asked, making his way back towards the bar. Babe tried to say something to him, but he shook his head.

“You guys play.” You rolled your eyes and took aim, hitting all your marks.

“Not bad,” Babe said, walking up to grab the darts. You smiled and tried to hide it behind your mug.

“Think you can do better?” you asked with a smirk. Babe cocked his head and straightened himself next to you.

“I think I might.” You waved your hand and watched him aim, hitting his marks as well.

“Not bad.” 

“Wanna bet?” Babe asked once you brought the darts back.

“Sure I won’t corrupt you?” Babe laughed and scrunched up his nose.

“Nah, I’m sure I’ll be fine. What else can you do?” You frowned a little and he took the darts from you, holding your hands for a moment too long. “Call it.”

“Seven.”

“What’s the bet?”

“How about another drink?” Babe nodded and hit his mark. You put your hands up and shrugged, making Babe laugh. He gave you the darts back and you looked at him. “Call it.”

“Nine.” He paused and you looked back at him.

“What’s the bet?”

“Miss and you’ll go on a date with me.” You had turned back to the dart board, ready to aim, but stopped. He was smiling shyly. 

“Fine.” You threw the dart and it landed right outside the bull’s eye, on fifteen. When you faced him again, you saw Bill smiling at you in the background.

“Well, Y/N,” Babe said, walking towards you, “Looks like you owe me a date.”

“Looks like I do,” you said, looking up at him. He smiled and you shook your head.

“What?”

“I can’t believe you don’t hate me.”

“I don’t hate you, Y/N. I never did and I don’t think I ever will.”

“I left you.”

“Well, you’re back now,” he said, tucking your hair behind your ears. “So, I’m gonna tell you what I should have told you when you walked in. I asked Bill to bring you here.”

“You did?”

“Yes, because there’s something I need to tell you. I should have told you back in Hagenau.” You raised an eyebrow as he leaned in closer so that your noses were practically touching. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you said, letting him close the gap between you in a bone crushing hug as he kissed you more passionately than he had any other time before.

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