#hope you brought a proper present! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

beary-rambles · 25 days

Text

Always together

r.q: hi lovlie, hope your doing well :) I was wondering if you would consider a jacaerys x starkreader? were there parents sent them to live with rhaenyra as child to learn. there they meet jace and become super close. but then driftmark happens and there sent back north. (jace isn't happy abt this and begs his mother to let them stay.) years, years later jace is sent north to remind cregan (your brother) of there oath to rhaenyra. and he sees you there and is awstruck, like heart eyes and everything. just lots of fluff and maybe a smut if thats okay💗🫶🏻🫶🏻💗

w.c: 6.2k

c.w: porn with a lot of plot like barely any smut tbh, a lot of fluff, mainly young jacaerys and young stark, vermax apperances, aegon is an ass for like one scene, p in v, fingering (f!receiving), mutual pining, worries abour the future, not proofread

a.n: can you tell how much i love jacaerys <3 🫶

masterlist

You were no more than seven when you first stepped foot in the red keep. You had been exhausted, it had taken you a full moon cycle to make it to king's landing. Without the comforts of your older brother or your parents it was the first time in your life you had been alone without your family and anytime you hadn't been sleeping you were probably crying. You missed them, your mother, your father but most of all your older brother.

‘I will miss you brother.” you press your head into his shoulder, already wet from the tears you had been weeping into it. He pulled you away from him, hands on your shoulders, he attempted to look strong and firm but you could see the teary glaze over his eyes. ‘I shall visit you i promise’ you sniff as he brings his hands to your cheeks and wipes away your tears, ‘you mean it?’

‘i do. And should anything happen to you I will ride out at first light and bring you back home.’ Despite being only a couple years older he always tried to act tough and he truly meant what he said, he even got on horseback and trailed behind the carriage you were in until he could not travel any further.

Your most trusted handmaiden, Eliza, was doing her best to make you look presentable as you were approaching closer and closer to the keep. “You must remember-” “i know you have told me a million times i must be proper i must bow i must refer to them correctly and i must not overstep.” “And you must train hard, girl. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity that many would kill to get.”

You are quiet and stay quiet up until you are escorted to princess rhaenryas chambers and presented before her. “This is Lady Y/N Stark, your grace.’ you bow as low as you can go and fold your hands in front of you. “I am pleased to meet you, your grace, I must thank you for the opportunity to do this. I shall train hard.”

“Looks like she does not need your training. She is a righteous girl already.” rhaenyra slaps the man standing next to her on the arm before smiling at you. “I am pleased to meet you y/n, please ignore my husband ser laenor,” the man smiles at you and dips his head in greeting which you do back, “and my sons, jacaerys and lucerys.” she gestures with her hand to the two boys standing next to her. Lucerys who looked a mere year or two younger than you clung to his mothers leg and stared at you. Jacaerys puffed out his chest a bit and firmly nodded at you causing you to chuckle and dip your head to him. He reminded you of your brother when the two of you were a bit younger which brought you a sense of comfort.

“I will have one of the girls show you to your room and allow you to get settled in for a day or two before you begin. The trip here must have been rough.” Soon enough you are escorted out of the room and taken to your room. Your new home in a sense for you had no clue how long. You had thought you would cry as you had been this whole trip but with how kind the family seemed to be you felt as though you would do just fine without your family.

You went to bed soon after arriving and slept into the next day, Eliza had told you she was shocked you had not slept longer due to the long travel. She had gotten you ready for the day there was a firm knock on the door. It had been the lord commander Ser Harwin who had apparently been tasked by lady rhaenyra to show the two of you around the keep. Eliza had quickly finished dressing you for the day, your attire was very different from what you would wear back at home, it was so warm in the keep you had no need for your furs and almost felt naked without them.

The two of you walk out of the room and notice Ser Harwin is chatting with someone next to him. “My prince!” the two of you bow and he nods at you. “Good day.” “I hope you do not mind that he is to accompany us today.” “of course it is of no issue ser.” he smiles down at you, “you are a well spoken girl.” “thank you ser.”

The four of you begin to walk around the keep where ser hawin would point out the different routes and attempt to show you how to get around. The keep was massive. You had no clue how you would be able to remember how to get anywhere. Other than that you noticed how lifelast the place seemed to be, everyone was walking around with bored looks and the place even had a weird smell though you did not comment on it. It was so different from your life at winterfell where most smiled at each other and chatted and did not smell so strange. Harwin and Eliza would chat back and forth while you occasionally added a comment. The prince next to you said nothing, just kept his hand folded behind his back and kept stealing glances at you.

You grew worried that you had done something to upset him as whenever you would look his way he would turn his head away from you. “Did I do something to upset you, my prince?” you ended up asking him while harwin and eliza seemed to be deep in conversation about how many staircases there were and how obnoxious that was. He did not answer for a moment, playing with his hands before he looked you directly in the eyes. “I think you are very pretty.”

You are startled by his answer and look at him alarmed as he immediately looks back down at his feet and kicks at the floor. Harwin and Eliza chuckle as the two of you give each other a knowing glance while you get flustered and gulp before snapping out of your sorry state and reply to him. “Thank you, my prince. You are also very handsome.” does not look up at you but a wide grin falls on his face at your reply.

From that day onwards the two of you are inseparable. Whenever you are not doing your work you watch him train and the two of you spend so much time together you even begin to get invited to their family dinners where the two of you would continue to chat until you would be forced off to bed.

It had been a year into your time with the royal family and they had been more than kind to you. And your brother kept his promise to you, coming down that year for your nameday and promised he would be here for any future ones you do not celebrate in winterfell. Though you missed your family dearly, the family was so kind you barely noticed their absence. The princess especially seemed to put a lot of effort into helping you even after getting pregnant for the third time. You had just finished up for the day as you hear your name being called down the hall and smile as you turn already knowing who it is. “Jace what is it?” He had begged you to call him by his name and reluctantly you agreed after a couple months of being there and soon enough you began to call him Jace feeling all too comfortable with the prince. “You must come with me y/n.” he grabs your hand and begins to walk you down the hallway with him. “Where are we going jace?” “to the dragonpit you are to meet vermax.” “Your dragon, are you mad?” you attempt to pull your hand away from but he keeps a firm grip and continues to march his way to the pit with you at his side. “It is the task to show that I can properly introduce vermax to someone without him freaking out.” “And are you confident you can do this? What if I get burned to a crisp by him jacaerys!” “So I am jacaerys now?” “when you are attempting to lead me to my death i will call you whatever i please!”

The two of you stop and he grabs your arms, forcing you to look directly at him. “I promise I shall allow you to come to no harm. I swear on it in my life. Don't you believe in me?” he gives you a brave look and seeks an answer from you. You know he would never lead you somewhere where he knew you would be harmed, “i trust you, jace.” he smiles and thanks you as he continues to walk you to the pit.

The maesters greet you as you enter the pit and soon enough you are standing right next to jacaerys gripping his hand for dear life as they begin to lead vermax out.

“You scared pup?” Aegon made a comment beside you and you scoffed at him. “A wolf fears nothing, my prince.” you made an effort to not interact with the hightowers, no more specifically aegon. You had no issues with heleana who was kind to you and someone you would consider a friend though aemond avoided you you also had no issue being kind to him but aegon was a monster whom you avoided at all costs. The other training girls with you had warned you aegon was a bit,, inappropriate. Though due to your younger age they never gave you a firm answer when you asked what they meant.

“Dragons eat wolves, you know?” “but a dragon would have to be sober to take me down, my prince.” he scoffed at you and turned away from you and you miss the small smile on aemonds face as the maesters silence you all and vermax comes into sight. He is beautiful though he snarls at the sight of you and you take a step back gripping onto jacaerys arm. “Do not worry he will not harm you.” he says a couple words in valyrian which you do not understand which seems to calm vermax down and soon enough jacaerys is leading you closer and closer to vermax. You will die. You watch as vermax huffs in your direction, his eyes locked onto you. Jacaerys speaks again and vermax continues to watch you as jace takes one of your hands and guides it up towards vermax. Vermax smells you snarling again and you fear you might begin to cry from your nerves but trust jacaerys he places your hand on top of vermaxs nose. He hums and seems to relax. “Well done jacaerys!” your hand is taken off of vermax who is soon led away and you let out a long breath that you were holding it. “That was terrifying.” “you did well lady stark.” Jacaerys was grinning at you and laced your fingers with his, “I told you i would do it.” “I'm sorry I doubted you, jace.”

In the next year of your training you did not get to meet vermax again thankfully but you and jacaerys continued to spend more time together. As lucerys was no older he also began to accompany the two of you and followed you guys around. Jacaerys called him a pest but you would always hit his arm and tell lucerys that he was more than welcome to join you much to jacaerys dismay. He loved his brother he truly did but he liked getting his alone time with you and you ended up having to promise him you will always like him more than lucerys causing him to smile. You loved him, you were sure about it and it began to worry you though you assured yourself that it would be a problem for future you to worry about.

Your life seemed to be going great. Until the death of lady laena and ser harwin. You comforted jacaerys while he cried into your shoulder. You did your best not to try and only focus on jacaerys who needed you right now. You had heard the rumors, of course you did but you had done your best to avoid them. It did not matter to you if they were true or not though you would be blind to not see the truth in them as jacaerys had begun to develop curls in his hair just as harwin had. Many thought the prince was mourning the loss of lady laena though you knew better than that. And soon enough he was forced to go off to lady laenas funeral and begged his mother to allow you to come but you couldn't as it was a family only affair. You watched him leave with a heavy heart not knowing it would be the last time you see him for a very long time.

You and Eliza instead end up attending Ser harwins funeral where you finally allow yourself to cry over him. You had grown fond of him and he was a truly kind man you could not believe he was gone. The two of you stayed in the area for awhile and had just begun to pack up your things ready to head back to king's landing when you received a letter from princesses rhaenyra stating that the family would not be returning to king's landing and you were dismissed from your services saying you had done well with your training and she wishes the two of you will meet again in the future. All you could do was cry. Cry and cry and cry all the way back to winterfell as you think of jacaerys. You would never see him again, you were sure. It almost killed you to think about. You missed him so much just on the way home that you could not even imagine what it would be like to live your life without him. When you arrive back at winterfell with a celebration you try your best to look happy but all you could do is sob.

Almost over a decade has passed since you had last been in king’s landing, since you had last been in the red keep. Since you had last seen jacaerys. You replay your final moments together in your head often, if only you had known that that would be the last time you saw him you would have done it all differently so many different things you would have said and done. But it is in the past and there is nothing you can do now but mourn the relationship you once had and try your best to move on.

As a woman grows, many men would try and gain your favor, many even bold enough to ask you for your hand but you reject them all, a small hopeful part of you wishing you could be with jacaerys. You know one day you will not be able to avoid it and it scared you thought you were grateful that for now your brother seemed to be in no rush to see you married.

You were doing your tasks as you had everyday, treating today like you always did until Eliza bursted into your room, “eliza!” she rushes towards you and fixes up your hair quickly ignoring your questioning as she grabs your nice furs from your closet and dresses you in them. “Whatever is happening eliza?” She does not answer and instead grabs you and drags you to the main hall where despite your questioning she does not answer and urges you to go stand next to cregan who was also dressed up standing next to your father and you the hall is scrambling making sure everything looks tidy. “Brother what is happening?”

He opens his mouth to answer but immediately shuts it and stands up tall as the doors open.

“Prince jacaerys velaryon!”

Your mouth goes dry as you see him. Standing tall in the middle of the room the prince you had been seeing in your dreams for years was now right in front of you. He was taller and definitely more handsome. He had curls that fell down to his shoulder and he wore a dark outfit. His face is firm and confident. It reminded you of when he tried to look like that years ago but unlike that time now it looked so right on him, like it wasn't some pretend act he was putting on.

You are in a daze and only snap out of it when you feel your brother's hand on your neck and dip you into a bow before pulling you back up. “My prince, it is good to see you once more.” jacaerys nods and seems to grip the scroll in his hand even tighter. “I'm sure you remember my sister y/n.” you notice his eyes go wide and he turns and finally looks at you. “y/n..” he mumbles in shock and takes the steps towards you. The only thing you can hear is the pounding of your heart as he soon stands right in front of you, his eyes darting all over your face, “is it truly you?”

“It is good to see you, my prince.” you resist the urge to call him jacaerys as you had all those years ago. You wish to touch him, lace your fingers with his, cup his face in your hands, anything but you do not. As if he can read your mind he grabs your hands and places a kiss on the back of it. You let out a breath as his hands linger with yours before he drops it down and he takes a step back. You take the moment to glance at your brother who has a smug look on his face which causes you to promptly look away from him.

“We are honored to have you here, my prince. Though this is rather unexpected.”

“I have important matters to discuss with you lord stark, involving the oath you swore to my mother.”

You are dismissed from the room to allow the men to talk though you almost wish to plead to stay so you can bask in jacaerys presence for a bit longer. You do not and are instead left to pace back and forth in the courtyard near the hall as Eliza attempts to urge you to sit down. “You will hurt your feet-” “do you think he remembers me?” “it clearly looked like he remembered you my lady please sit-” “whatever could he possibly be here for, eliza do you think he is betrothed.” “What does that have to do with his visit here?” you groan and run your hands along your face. You had thought you had gotten over him, but once you had seen him you once again felt like a lovesick fool just like when you were a child. He could not possibly be here for you right? No he had mentioned some oath your brother had sworn to his mother. The one thing you hated about winterfell was how hard it was to hear any news about what was going on with the royal family simply for the reason news took far too long to reach winterfell and by the time it did it was old news. You had heard nothing about jacaerys all these years or even the rest of the family. Other than of course the marriage between prince daemon and princess rhaenyra and the death of ser leanor which also pained you dearly. You worried for him.

In your pacing the doors to the hall open and Cregan and jacaerys walk out together with smiles on their faces as they joked around a bit together. Once they shall you they both paused and you watched patiently as Cregan said somethings to jacaerys who nodded before walking away leading jacaerys to come towards you.

“I am told you will show me around?” your brother and his meddling,, though this time you were more than happy and eagerly nodded. You wave away Eliza with that smug grin on her face as you begin to walk him around. Other than the occasional comment from you about where you were, the walk you share is quiet. It feels oddly reminiscent of when harwin has shown you around the keep, with your hands folded in front of you and you can see him glancing at you out of the corner of your eye and he looks away once you look at him.

The two of you now stand in the crypts of winterfell, completely alone so you feel brave enough to tease him “You have not changed.” he laughs and looks at the ground, “or maybe you just make me feel like a young boy again.” feeling bold you lightly place your hand on his forearm causing him to look up at you. “I have missed you, ja- my prince.” as if your words had brought a sense of relief to him he wraps you in a big hug. His head tucked firmly in your neck as he deeply breathed in your neck. “I have missed you more than you know y/n” you two stand there for you have no clue how long, simply basking in each other's presence you do not even notice you begin to cry. “Jacaerys,,,” “I know Issa prūmia. I'm sorry I was so upset to leave you.” you whine as he pulls away from you and cups your face to wipe away your tears. “I begged my mother to send you to Dragonstone, I had no clue how to write to you gods, I was so worried I would never see you again. I had even planned for one day to fly out here myself, I guess my wish came true though I wish it were with better circumstances.”

You sniffle and smile at him. He wanted to contact you, he had dreamed of seeing you the way you had him. He presses his forehead against yours and sighs, still rubbing his thumbs over your cheeks. “Avy jorrāelan” he mumbles to you before he pulls away. You had remembered him mentioning he wanted to become fluent in valyrian and had plans for you to learn alongside him once he began to study but due to the circumstances you never had learned any. You don't ask him what it means though you are curious he would tell you if he wanted to.

“We should continue your tour.”

Suddenly you feel as though you were eight again. Chatting with jacaerys just like when you were younger, showing him around where you grew up and he was more than happy to hear you rant about winterfell. Once the tour is finished you guide him back to the main hall where a feast had been prepared for him. He appeared shocked by this, “you shouldn't have lord stark.” “we have a prince in our mists, we must honor you.” he shakes his head and you laugh. The three of you head to the main table and take a seat. “When you mentioned it earlier I had forgotten to extend my congratulations about the betrothal-” “I am not betrothed.” jacaerys rushed out and looked at cregan alarmed. He took a glance at you as well before looking back at cregan, “I meant your brother.” jacaerys lets out an oh and looks down at the plate in front of him as you try your best not to laugh. “Yes, I am very happy for him, my lord.” “But you are not betrothed? Is there a reason?” you hold your breath as cregan asks the question you had in mind. He pauses for a moment and glances at you once more before looking at cregan. “I,, have had a lady in mind since I was younger though I do not know if she likes me as well or if even her brother would approve.” you look down at your plate and freeze as cregan roars with laughter, you do not even glance up at the two of them as you feel jacaerys stare burn into the side of your head.

he must be talking about you. You are not stupid. Your heart is pounding out of your chest. Despite this being all you have ever wanted it feels so sudden. So you stand up and do not even notice the alarmed faces on cregan and jacaerys face as you rush out of the hall and even out of the walls of winterfell it all feeling so constricting. You run for a while while your head spins. You had just gone from dreaming of seeing the prince again to him basically asking for your brother's permission to wed you? You finally feel as though you are far enough and lean against a tree, your breath rapid as you close your eyes. You do not know how long you stand there, lost in your thoughts but it is certainly long enough for you to clear your head a bit. You loved him. Your time spent together today showed you clearly still did, that time has not changed you or him one bit. More so a part of you was scared of the reality of it, if you were to marry him you would one day be queen. Even the thought of marriage and motherhood terrified you, what of being the wife of the man ruling the seven kingdoms?

You hear a loud snarl and your eyes shoot open and you see a sight you know you haven't seen in over a decade. If you had thought he was big as a child he was truly terrifying now. Vermax stared at you as you were frozen where you stood. Every bone in your body shouted for you to yell but it was like the ground under you had turned into quicksand and you were stuck in your spot.

“Gīda ilagon vermax!” a voice cuts through your thoughts and suddenly jacaerys is standing between you and vermax. “Ziry iksos naejot sagon issa ābrazȳrys, ao jāhor daor ōdrikagon zȳhon” you have no clue what he says but it seems to work and vermax huffs in defeat and deflated to laying down on the floor simply staring at the two of you. Once vermax has settled jace makes his way over to you and cups your face feverishly checking you, “are you alright my lady?” “im okay im okay i promise.” he lets out a sigh of relief and presses your head to his shoulder, pulling you into a hug. He seems so worried and guilt begins to build up in your stomach. “I'm sorry.” “you have nothing to apologize for-” “i should not have run out of the room like that.”

He pauses for a moment, seemingly unsure of what to say as he continues to slowly rub your back. “If what i had said in there made you unforgettable, I'm sorry forget i had even said anything. Please just don't let this ruin the friendship we have built. I will get over it if I must."He's given you an out, you could say you did not feel the same and you would not have to worry about one day being queen or one day having to be a mother to the future heir, but you wanted him. You wanted so desperately to be his wife, “I am scared.” He pulls away from you and holds your face to look at him. “Of what?” “that i will be a bad wife, a bad queen, a bad mother-” “i will not pressure you to say yes but just know i know that you could never be any of those things. You have every right to worry, be nervous of what's to come but dare I tell you I am afraid too. When my mother was on her birthing bed, covered in blood and sweat looking as if she was about to die she had said I will claim any inheritance that she has and it terrified me. Not only for the thoughts of my mother dying but I am no way prepared to be king. But that is what time is for, i shall learn, you shall learn lest you allow it, but just know you are not the only one who is scared. But I will be there for you every step of the way should you want me to.”

You swear you had never seen someone look at you with so much love in their heart as jacaerys had been right this moment. You knew the words he said to you were true, the spoken and unspoken promises he swore to you he would fulfill until the day he died. The unspoken truth, those three simple words. “I love you.” they fall off your lips so easily it is as if you were born to say them, say them to him. And you swear you had never seen him look so happy as he did when he heard you say that, “Avy jorrāelan.” I love you. He had told you that earlier that day. He had always loved you. So when the two of you walked back into the main hall which was dead quiet, everyone including your brother looked upon the two of you eagerly and when jacaerys nodded at cregan the hall erupted into cheers.

The feast quickly turned into a celebration as people came up to congratulate the two of you and many more would have until you announced you would be going to see and jacaerys said he would walk you to your room leading you to dodge the look cregan had on his face.

“You have made me the happiest man in all the realms today, y/n” soon enough the two of you are standing face to face for a while just admiring each other before you take a step back towards the door. “I should head to bed.” “Of course.” Neither of you move to leave, he continues to stare at you and you end up leaning against your room door. “Would,” you pause, contemplating if you truly wish to push your limits like this, but fuck it. “Would you like to come in?” “i shouldn't.” he takes a step closer to you as you open your door and take a step inside he follows you right after, the look on his face unreadable as you smile and step further into the room until you are both in, simply just staring at one another you barely notice he closes the door and takes a long step towards you and pulls you into a heated kiss.

Almost ten years of build up to this moment and it was completely worth it. He cups your jaw and feverishly pushes his lips against yours, your hands grip his hips and he walks you back until you fall back onto your bed with a squeal. You wanted to comment that he could have warned you but he quickly climbs on top of you and continues kissing you. “We shouldn't be doing this.” he mumbles against your lips as he lazily begins to grind his hips into yours and you moan. “You're right we shouldn't.'' Instead of doing anything about it his hands begin to rub up and down your sides as he lips fall down your jaw and begin sloppily sucking on your neck. His thrusts grow quicker and more erratic by the second and your clothes suddenly feel as though they are burning your skin. “Undress me.” He wastes no time pulling and tugging at your dress until he is able to slide it down your body until you are bare before him and he stares at you with wonder. “Gevie” his hands run all over your body as he begins to kiss any inch of skin he can get his hands on, worshiping you as if you were a god sent down to him to bless him. Soon enough you are begging him to do something, though you have no clue what you are begging for, you do not know anything about what goes in bed between a man and a woman other than he sticks his cock in and you come out pregnant as told by your brother when you asked him. He sits up and begins to tug off his clothes, giving you a look of worry. “I am sorry if this will not be good. I do not know what I am doing.” “Neither do I, but we’ll learn together, isn't that what you said?” “It seems I did.” he slides the rest of his clothes off and kisses you once, one of his hands slides down and cups your sex causing you to gasp, “is this alright?” your head begins to spin as he rubs two of his fingers up and down, the squelching sound being covered up by your moan. “It is more than alright.” he has a satisfied look on his face as he continues soon adding another finger, you are so wet at this point you would not be shocked if there was a pool under your legs. If this was sinful than you shall be a sinner for life because you have never felt a greater pleasure than you had right this second.

“Can I put them in you?” “please.” Your plea is desperate as your body begins to crave more from him. He slides a finger in you and he lets out an estranged noise while you continue to moan. “You are so tight.” one finger soon turns into two which turns into three. He cannot get enough of the way you grip his fingers so tightly he believes if he were a weaker man he would not be able to pull them out of you. Though he is not confident, the way you moan, groan and plead for him to do what you are not even sure of and beg for some sort of release encourages him to be bolder, curl his fingers and begin to pump faster. He had never been so unbold, he is usually a very thoughtful man, someone who plans out his moves before doing them, unless he is blinded by rage which happens more than he would like, but with you he loses all his senses and acts in ways he swears he never would have before. He finds himself doing things he is unsure of including trying to pleasure you, though it seems to be working in his favor and you release all over his fingers.

You notice that he seems to be pausing, holding off on taking your maidenhood and you question him. “What if I am no good?” “Then as I said and as you said, we shall learn, together.”

You ignore the nerves you feel as he slowly begins to press into you and it hurts, it hurts like hell but you're sure if you wait it out it will be worth it. He laces his fingers with yours and allows you to grip his hand tightly as he works himself all the way in, “are you alright?” you take many deep breaths once he has fully pushed himself into you, “just give me a moment.” “Take as long as you need.” He kisses your collarbone and neck lightly as if his lips were feathers on your skin as he waits for you to give him the okay.

He hides it well but he is barely containing himself, your walls hugged him so tightly he feared that when you did give him the okay he would not be able to pull himself out of you. He loved you. He loved the way you felt, he loved that troubled look on your face, he loved the way your hands felt in his. He loved you so much he felt he could not breathe. Once you gave him the okay it took him a couple moments to compose himself before he began to move. With every thrust he imagined his future with you, he imagined taking you back to dragonstone to have a traditional Targaryen wedding, he imagined you round with his child who would be his heir, he imagined growing older with you and ruling by your side. Despite his fears about the upcoming war or his future he knew he could do anything as long as you stayed with him. He loves you, and he knew you did too as you allowed him to spill his speed in your and seal your union with a kiss.

Valyrian translations (all made with a translator i have no clue if these are correct)

Issa prūmia - my heart

Avy jorrāelan - i love you

Gīda ilagon - calm down

Ziry iksos naejot sagon issa ābrazȳrys, ao jāhor daor ōdrikagon zȳhon - she is to be my wife you will not harm her

Gevie - Beautiful

410 notes · View notes

poeticpascal · 9 months

Text

Home (Joel Miller x Barbie!Reader)

Masterlist | Request here!

Summary: When a deep sense of loneliness overcomes Cowgirl Barbie, she leaves Barbieland to find whatever poor kid it is that's making her feel that way. Of course, she could never have expected just how much light Sarah would bring to her life, and she certainly didn't expect the things her grumpy father would teach her about love.

Word count: 10.6k

Warnings: Barbie movie spoilers, angst, angry Joel (he's insecure and protective), descriptions of loneliness, lots of fluff!

A/n: this is literally my Magnum Opus. Reader is Cowgirl Barbie. I truly hope you love this as much as I do 💖

Barbieland has been very different since Stereotypical Barbie left. Good different.

The Kens have jobs now, proper jobs, not just ‘Beach’ or ‘Surf’. They’re not the most competent workers Barbieland has ever seen; they get too distracted trying on new overalls at the building site or throwing paper aeroplanes at each other in the offices. But they’re trying, and you have to admit, it’s pretty adorable seeing them so excited to head off to work each morning.

Barbieland has laughter now, true laughter, not perfect giggles but the kind that brings tears to your eyes and makes your belly hurt. It has crying, proper full-bodied sobs that rack through your chest, aching in a good way. And it has life. Fervent, overwhelming, painfully brilliant life.

It’s magnificent, even the really hard bits. Which there are a lot of.

Like losing someone you really, really love.

Stereotypical Barbie - Barbara, as she’s known now - had been your best friend. Your Dreamhouse was right next to hers, and every morning you’d float down to the streets together, where she’d hop into her little pink car and you’d mount your pony and ride into town. It was perfect, a sweet little life surrounded by pinkness and joy, and if you’re being completely honest with yourself, you miss it.

You bonded over how displaced you both felt. Neither of you really had a thing, a specific job to do. She was Stereotypical Barbie, and you’re Cowgirl Barbie. Destined to wear dusty denim and cowboy hats for all of eternity; not a doctor, not a physicist, not an astronaut and certainly not the president. Just a cowgirl.

And there aren’t even any cows.

That was what brought you and Stereotypical Barbie together; you both felt slightly unsure of the world, however perfect it may be, and you found friendship in that.

So when she left, that hurt.

Because she found purpose.

Purpose in feeling, and knowing, and living.

Purpose in things you could only dream about. And what you hate the most is that she was right.

It feels good to hurt. It feels good to have that pain in your chest, that ache in your cheeks when you’re not quite done crying yet. That emptiness that fills the space where flowers had once bloomed.

It feels like shit to miss your friend, and it feels incredible to have loved someone so much that you miss them.

And that’s the beauty she brought to your life. To all the Barbies’ lives.

But it still goddamn hurts.

About as much as the strange thoughts of loneliness have hurt the past few weeks.

You’re never alone in Barbieland; there’s always someone there, a friend, a listening ear. A million other Barbies who genuinely care.

But the feeling is so strong, so heavy in your gut, that all the Barbies and Kens and Allens in the world can’t take it away.

Which only calls for one thing.

“Your friend had the same problem, you know,” Weird Barbie says, walking round you in circles like prey. You gulp; she’s significantly less ‘weird’ now, what with her fancy job at the Capital and the whole ‘awakened Barbies’ thing, but she certainly kept some habits that set you a little bit on edge.

“How do you mean?” You stutter, trying to keep up as she continues to stalk around you and make strange gestures.

“First came the depression-” she pulls down a presentation screen from god-knows where, one decorated with the typical Barbie anatomy and annotated with the same notes Weird Barbie is now recounting. She points to the head, ‘depression’ scribbled beside it, and stops in front of you.

“And then-” she moves again, rotating to the other side of the screen and pointing to the drawing’s legs. “-came the cellulite.”

She pauses, seemingly waiting for some big reaction, but you just stare. Sure, cellulite was feared back then, but almost every Barbie has it now, and it’s really no big deal. “...okay?” you posit, slightly more concerned as Weird Barbie’s face falls at your reply.

“Damn, I guess we really are doing things differently now.” Her surprise is dropped quickly, as she continues to explain what it means to be overcome with these awful feelings so quickly.

“In the end, sweetheart, there’s only one way to fix this.” She leans in uncomfortably close, making you gulp. “You gotta go to the real world.”

You had a feeling she’d say that.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

When you arrive in the real world, there’s really only one person you can go to. The one person you’ve missed more than anything.

She was your best friend, and yet standing here on the doorstep of an apartment that looks nothing like a Dreamhouse, you can’t help how nervous you feel.

She’d given all the Barbies her new address, in case any of them managed to sneak into the real world, so she mustn’t mind that you’re here. But she’ll be so different now, so human, and you’re still just a Barbie with a jaunty cowgirl outfit and a sunny disposition.

Your worries are immediately washed away when the door flings open, and before you can even see who it is, a pair of arms are tightly wrapped around your neck and you’re pulled in for a big, warm hug. But you know who it is, and you hug her back immediately, tears welling in your eyes as you finally hold your best friend again.

Barbara pulls back, holding your cheeks in her hands, almost like she didn’t think you were really there. “I can’t believe you’re here!” She grins, hugging you again with a giggle. “I missed you so much.”

“Oh, Barbara, I missed you too,” you cry, not wanting to let her go.

“What are you doing here?” She asks, and you finally relax your arms, taking in how much she’s changed. She isn’t wearing anything pink, or sparkly, but a white blouse and nude pants that look very professional. Very human. Very different.

You don’t reply to her question, unsure of what the answer even is, and that alone makes her worried. So she takes you by the hand and leads you into her apartment, one painted white with sweet pictures on the walls of her with Sasha and Gloria, and some other women you don’t recognise. It makes you a little jealous.

She leads you to the kitchen, sitting you on a bar stool and pouring tea for you both. You go to drink it, holding the cup away from your mouth and tipping it, but she quickly jumps up shouting “no!” and pulling the cup down.

She laughs, making you laugh nervously too, and explains you need to hold the cup to your lips and sip. “Are you sure?” you ask, staring down at the liquid and tentatively trying to drink it, the warmth on your tongue foreign but sweet.

“Yep! That’s how we drink here. I know it’s weird but once you get used to it, it’s so good.”

You smile, putting down the cup and looking back at your friend. “Things are pretty different here, huh?”

Barbara smiles, nodding her head and swinging her legs where they hang from the stool. “Yep! Isn’t it great?”

“Yeah, it is,” you reply, with a fraction of the excitement. You push a loose strand of hair behind your ear, knocking your hat slightly which you quickly correct into place, acutely aware of yourself in the presence of someone who’s changed so much. “Do… do you ever miss us? The Barbies?”

She grimaces, making you regret asking as soon as the words leave your lips. Her eyebrows sink into concern, and she sets her tea down beside yours, taking your hand and squeezing it tightly.

“Every single day. Of course I miss you - I even miss the Kens!” You both giggle, and you’re reminded of how things were before.

You have to admit, you almost asked your Ken to come with you, but he was having so much fun in Barbieland now that you couldn’t bring yourself to take him away from it.

“I’m so sorry I made you feel that way.” Her eyes have welled up now, and guilt hits you like a truck.

“No, no, I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m so happy for you, truly.” You smile, and you know she knows you mean it. “I just… I feel so lonely. It’s like a big hole in my chest, all the time. No matter what I do, no matter how many girl’s nights and big blowout parties and days on the beach, I just feel lonely. And it’s even worse without you here.”

Barbara holds your hand tighter, and something you said seems to have caught her attention. “You mean you felt like this even before I left? Before the Kendom?”

You nod, sheepish, and her eyes squint in thought. Then, as if a lightbulb has gone off in her head, she gives you her trademark big white smile and excitedly shouts, “I know what you need to do!”

She jumps off her chair, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking LA. You stand there for a moment, taking in the view, the overwhelming sights and sounds of rushing traffic below you. It’s beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

“You need to find the little girl who’s playing with you,” Barbara whispers, watching your amazement.

“Isn’t that what you did?” You ask, finally pulling your eyes away to face your friend. She nods, her smile just as bright and honest as ever, and it makes the idea of facing this big wide world seem a little less scary.

“I’ll come with you, we’ll go find her, and we’ll figure out what’s been making her feel so lonely.”

“Will you really come with me?”

You already know the answer; of course she will. She’s the kindest person you know. Of course, all the Barbies are the kindest people you know, but that’s a technicality you don’t feel like getting into right now.

“You know it,” she grins, and you can’t help but grin back as you think about what an adventure this is going to be.

“How will I know where to find her?” You ask, looking back through the window at the huge world on the other side of the glass. How could you possibly find your kid?

Barbie tugs you to face her, straightens your hat and looks directly into your eyes, making you focus. “You gotta be really calm, okay? Just close your eyes, clear your mind, and find her memories. And then try to figure out where she is. That’s how I found Sasha!’

You nod, not quite sure how this is going to work, if this is going to work. But you try anyway, squeezing your eyes shut and doing your best to shush all the noise and confusion in your head, desperately searching for anything that could help you find your kid. You get nothing, ready to give up after a few minutes of emptiness, when suddenly - there it is, the faintest hint of a memory.

“Dad, can we have a movie night tonight?” Sarah asks, watching as Joel paces the room, frantically searching for his other shoe.

“Yeah, sweetheart, course,” he replies. She smiles, heading over to the TV stand and already searching for a film to watch, giggling as her Dad begins to lift up the couch cushions.

She looks down, seeing the shoe hiding just behind the stand, and rolls her eyes as she picks it up and throws it at him. “How’d you find it?” He mutters, scoffing as she just laughs at him, though a matching grin is etching its way onto his lips.

He slides on the other shoe, grabbing his wallet and keys and heading over to give Sarah a kiss on the head. “When will you be home?” She asks, and he offers a guilty smile that doesn’t make her particularly hopeful.

“Soon as I can, Sarah. Around 8? 9 at the latest.” She nods, forcing a smile and letting him go, and Joel’s out the door in a flash with a final shout of “Love you, honey!” and a slam of the door.

The memory changes, then.

It’s nighttime, and Sarah lies alone on the couch, a movie playing that she doesn’t seem to be really watching. Her eyes flicker up to the mantlepiece, where the clock reads 10:13, and she sighs.

Then she stands, traipsing into the hallway and towards the front door, where the key hangs in the lock. She turns it, unlocking the door and leaving the key on the sidetable, then picking up a piece of mail that had been left there.

“51 Mulberry Road

Travis County

Austin, Texas

Dear Mr. Miller, we are writing to solicit your contracting services for our new development…”

Sarah groans, throwing the letter back on the table and muttering “more work, great.” She retreats upstairs, slamming the door behind her and climbing into bed…

You’re pulled out of the memory by Barbara’s voice, filled with excitement. “Can you see her? Do you know her name? Do you know where she is?”

“Sarah” you mumble, still dazed. “Sarah, her name’s Sarah.”

Barbara squeals, clapping her hands together before calming herself and urging you to continue. “And? Where is she?”

You concentrate, trying to remember what was written on the letter you saw. “Er… Texas. Yeah, she’s in Texas. Mulberry Road. Is that close?”

She pulls a face, a yeah… no kind of face, then grabs a big book from under her coffee table and flips it open. You watch in amazement as she scans the pages and pages of maps inside, until she shouts, “a-ha!”, pointing to a spot on a page titled ‘The United States of America’. “Here it is. We’ll need to fly there.”

A nervous excitement brews in your tummy, your eyes glued to the little spot on the map labelled Texas. The spot where Sarah lives, with her Dad. The place you’re destined to find.

“Oh, and don’t get freaked out… but men fly planes here.” Your head snaps up, confusion painting your face, and Barbara just nods at your reaction.

“Seriously?” You ask, wondering if she was just playing a prank. “Is… is that safe?”

She giggles, putting the book down and grabbing your hand. “Yep, there’s a lot to get used to here. You’ll see. Now come on, we need to pack our bags!”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

And so here you are, on a flight to Texas, on your way to find Sarah and bring an end to her loneliness.

Barbara tells you all about the real world. How different yet wonderful it is, how much there is to do and see and feel. She’s at university now, getting qualifications to be a psychologist and work with young girls who are struggling. It’s brilliant, but strange, you think - qualifications aren’t needed in Barbieland - anyone can just do anything. Well, the Barbies can. And the Kens really do try.

The journey is filled with new and exciting things, but it’s scattered with memories of Sarah and her dad that pop up in your mind at random. You see everything; their best moments, their worst, the times they’ve laughed and cried and screamed.

You can see the first time she chose you. She was smaller, much smaller than she is in the more recent memories, and her Dad seemed friendlier, then.

“Alright, honey. Which one d’ya want?” Joel asks, smiling as Sarah’s eyes scan shelf after shelf of Barbies.

“You should get this one,” he jokes, picking up a doll labelled ‘Builder Barbie’. “She’s just like your daddy!”

Sarah giggles, shaking her head and crossing her arms. “You’re not a builder, daddy! You’re a cont-ac-er.”

Joel’s heart warms, both at how much she loves his job and won’t accept a vague similarity, and her attempted pronunciation of the word ‘contractor’.

“Well then, which one, babygirl?”

She spends a few more moments looking at each option, before her eyes widen, landing on one a little further away to the left. She stands up on her tippy-toes, grabbing the doll and admiring it, giddy.

“This one, Daddy! I want this one!” She shows him the doll, waving it in his face but not letting him take it, protective already. It’s a Cowgirl Barbie, one clothed in denim and brown leather, with cliche cowboy boots and a hat.

“She’s just like you, Daddy.”

Joel pulls a face, looking back and forth between Sarah and the doll. “How in the hell is she like me?”

Sarah scowls, pointing to the cowboy hat and explaining, “she’s a cowgirl! And you’re a cowboy!”

“I ain’t no cowboy” Joel retorts, shaking his head and leading Sarah over to the cashier’s desk. “When have you ever seen me in one of them hats, huh?”

Sarah giggles, itching to take the doll out of the box, and Joel knows she’ll do it the second he’s paid. “Maybe you can borrow hers, daddy, and be a proper cowboy.”

He rolls his eyes, though the smile hasn’t fallen from his face for even a second. He pays, watching with joy as Sarah scrambles to rip open the plastic, finally pulling out the doll and hugging it the whole way home while making up stories of ranches and horses and pistol duels - she was certainly her father’s daughter.

“Barbie? You there?” Barbara pulls you out of your thoughts, staring at you as you finally turn to look at her.

“Sorry, I’m here. Just…”

“Keep getting memories, huh?”

You nod, looking out the plane window and into the skies. She still seems concerned, but lets it go, returning to her magazine and letting you be with your thoughts.

More memories swirl in your mind; you can see Sarah’s first days of middle school and high school, her most vulnerable moments of crying in her room and talking to you like you were the only one who’d listen, her relationship with her dad and how he’s become more and more distant over the years.

Sarah slams her bedroom door behind her, falling on the bed with a sigh. She sits back up, her eyes falling on the Cowgirl sat on the shelf across from her, growing dusty as she plays with it less and less.

She’s 14 now, too old for dolls really. And yet, that Barbie had been there with her through her toughest moments, and even now, it was comforting to have her there.

“Dad’s at work. Again.” She says, half to the doll, half to herself. “It sucks.”

She dives into her backpack, pulling out a small box and opening it up, the newly-polished watch inside glistening in the light from the window.

She takes it out, delicately, and turns it around to see the engraved lettering on the back.

‘No matter what, we have each other. I love you, Dad. From Sarah x’

She smiles, quickly placing the watch back in its box, not wanting to damage it before she could even give it to her Dad. “You think he’ll like it?” She asks the doll smiling at her from the shelf.

“I just… I just want him to know I love him. And that I know he doesn’t mean to be gone all the time.”

She stands, picking the doll up from the shelf and brushing the dust away, carefully readjusting her little hat and smiling at the piece of her childhood.

“I’ll give it to him tonight. If he ever comes home,” she sighs, lying down beside the Barbie and taking a nap, knowing she had a long wait ahead.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

“Alright, here we are!” Barbara chimes, pulling up to the house you’d been looking for. 51 Mulberry Road.

“Are you nervous?”

“Hell yeah I’m nervous,” you quip, the fear plainly stated in your wide eyes. What if she doesn’t like you? What if you can’t help her feel less lonely? What if this just doesn’t work?

“Look, I’ve been there,” she replies, knowing exactly how you feel. “You’ve gotta remember that you’re her Barbie. You’re her friend, and she’s yours. It’s all gonna work out. My only advice? Don’t expect her to thank you for making everything amazing for women. Trust me, it does not end well.”

You giggle, remembering the story of when she first met Sasha, and hope Sarah won’t be quite as mean. You feel a little better, and thank Barbara for her support, grateful to have your friend back.

“Alright, I’m gonna go and get a coffee. If you need anything, call me, okay?” She hands you the little flip phone she bought, having shown you how to make texts and calls on it to her iPhone. You nod, thanking her again and stepping out of the car, the nerves building up as you hear her drive away and you’re left alone in front of the house.

You take a deep breath, your boots clicking on the path as you make your way up to the door, supported by a big wooden patio and a bench out front. It reminds you of home a little; your western-themed Dreamhouse, clad with old wooden floors and southern-style windows.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you raise a hand and knock, waiting with baited breath before you hear footsteps on the other side and the door swings open.

And there she is. Sarah.

She’s a little older than she was in the most recent memories you saw, around 16 now. She’s tall, with a purple cardigan on and pretty blue jeans that you’re jealous of already. Her smile is bright, precious, and if you didn’t know better you’d think she was a Barbie herself.

“Can I help you?” She asks, looking you up and down with a slightly confused, but still polite expression.

You stall, the introduction you’d prepared completely forgotten, your mouth just opening and closing like a fish out of water. Sarah’s expression becomes one of concern more than anything, and she reaches out a soft hand to touch your arm, making you jump.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” she pauses, looking you over again. “Sorry, do I… do I know you?”

You stumble again, trying to find the right words, and she must see how genuinely nervous you are because she searches behind you into the street, then pulls you inside and shuts the door. “Come on, you need something to drink.”

She leads you to the kitchen, a beautifully decorated but old fashioned room with porcelain tiles and wooden beams across the ceiling. You trace your fingers across the counter top, looking around in awe while Sarah pours you a glass of lemonade.

Your eyes fall to the corner of the room, where her school bag sits, and a familiar-looking cowboy hat pokes out. You walk towards it without thinking and pull out the doll, admiring the little plastic version of yourself.

“Oh, that’s - that’s not what it looks like. I’m not… I don’t play with dolls anymore, obviously, I just…”

Sarah’s voice trails off, and you assume she’s embarrassed, but when you turn to face her you realise it’s not that at all. She’s staring at you, then the doll, then back at you, with a cocktail of confusion and realisation on her face.

“You’re dressed… you look exactly like her. What -“ She’s cut off by the front door slamming shut, and a familiar voice shouting down the hall, “Sarah? I’m home.”

Her eyes widen, quickly looking for somewhere she to hide you, the stranger she’s invited in, panicking as her Dad’s footsteps get louder.

But it’s too late. Joel stands in the door frame, staring at you, then shooting Sarah a look that says, ‘the fuck is this?’

“Dad, I can explain-“ he cuts her off, staring you in the eye and taking a step towards you. He looks older than he did in your memories - not in the way that Sarah does, but in a tired way, like he’d worked a hundred years and counting. Grey curls wash over his head, matched by a silvery beard and sunken eyes, and for all the Kens you’ve known in your life, you don’t think you’ve met anyone as handsome as him.

“Who the fuck are you?” He asks - no, demands, one arm protectively stretched in Sarah’s direction.

“I- I’m- Barbie. I’m Barbie.” You stutter, clutching the doll a little tighter in your hand. Joel’s face scrunches angrily, and he looks at Sarah again, who just shrugs.

“You’re fuckin’ what?” He asks, clearly unimpressed.

You panic, holding up the doll to your face, showing him the obvious similarities between you. The same clothes, same hairstyle, same eyes.

“You know, Cowgirl Barbie. Sarah’s Barbie,” you explain, a little more confident now, hoping they’d accept your explanation.

Your hopes are quickly dashed as Joel asks Sarah, “do you know this clown?”

His arms are clenched, and you try not to worry about what’s coming next.

“No, Dad, but-“

He cuts her off. “So you just invited this crazy person into our home?”

He’s shouting now, and you recoil, remembering Barbara’s first experience meeting Sasha. You wonder if this is worse.

“Dad, don’t talk about her like that,” Sarah shouts back. It makes you feel at least a little better, but it’s too late. Joel’s incensed, shouting about stranger danger and how you’re probably an escapee from some mental asylum, how weird it is that you know what dolls she owns and how to dress like them.

“- and you” he looks directly at you now, pointing. “You get the hell out of my home and you don’t speak to my daughter ever again, you hear me?”

Tears stream down your face as you nod, throwing the doll onto the counter and running past Sarah and Joel and out of the house. You can barely make it out the front door, stumbling against the columns on the patio, before making it just far enough onto the grass outside to stumble to your knees and let yourself cry properly.

That same, overwhelming loneliness fills you again, tearing deep into your chest and only adding to your pain. Your shoulders shake, and you try to remind yourself of what they teach you at Barbieland; crying is good, hurting is good. It means you’re alive.

But it really doesn’t feel good right now.

You can hear the faint sound of the door opening and closing, but you don’t really register it, not until you feel a soft hand on your shoulder.

You look behind you, meeting Sarah’s apologetic eyes, and you try to wipe your own of their flood of tears.

“Oh no, I’m sorry, I must look horrible,” you laugh, though it’s forced.

Sarah smiles, sitting down in front of you, knees crossed. “I think you look beautiful.”

And that makes you really smile.

You giggle, pulling off your cowboy hat and setting it on the grass beside you. Your denim jacket feels a little hot now, too tight, but you try to ignore the feeling and focus on getting your breathing back to normal.

“Is it true? Are you really… her?”

Sarah’s question is soft, like she doesn’t know quite which answer she wants. You only nod, fiddling with your hands in your lap.

“You’re Barbie?” She asks again, and you can tell she’s expecting a reply this time.

“Cowgirl Barbie,” you answer, still only looking at your hands.

“God, you know, when Stereotypical Barbie came here, she had such a good time. Mind you, that was in LA, so -“

Sarah cuts you off with a gasp. “Wait, that was real? I heard about that! It was all over Twitter - Barbie and Ken on roller skates in LA, Barbie in a pink cowboy outfit-“

“Yes!” You exclaim, excited - “she told me all about it! She chose the cowboy outfit ‘cos it reminded her of me, you know. We’re best friends.”

You’re showing off a little now, but you don’t care - it feels good to talk, to be believed.

Sarah watches you in awe. “Wow. So this is, like, real. This is real? You’re Barbie. Where’s Ken?”

“Oh, he had to stay back at home. Well, he didn’t have to, he would’ve come if I asked him to. He’s really sweet. I just… I didn’t wanna be a burden.” You explain, grateful he hadn’t seen you crying like this now you think about it.

“But isn’t he, like, your boyfriend? I’m sure he wouldn't mind.” Sarah replies.

“Oh, he isn’t my boyfriend,” you giggle at the thought. “No, no, we don’t really do that in Barbieland. Everyone’s their own person and makes themselves happy, no need for boyfriends and girlfriends. Even the Kens!”

“Rad,” Sarah grins, liking the sound of Barbieland. “So… why are you here?”

You reply honestly, there’s no use in skirting around it anymore. “Well… I feel what you feel, Sarah. And when you’re sad, and lonely, I feel that too. That’s why I came, to help you feel better.”

“Oh.” It’s all she says.

“Why do you feel like that?” Your tears have stopped by now, your face left red and puffy. You try not to start up again as you watch her face twist at your question.

“Just… stuff. With my dad. He’s never here anymore, always at work. It used to be just me and him against the world, you know? And now it feels like… like it’s just me.”

You pout, rubbing a hand on her knee. “I’m sure he doesn’t mean it, Sarah. You always have each other, just like the watch says.”

You smile, trying to be as comforting as possible, but it’s quickly wiped away by the look of shock on her face.

You’re about to ask her what’s the matter when a southern drawl sounds from behind you, “how do you know that?”

You turn, facing Joel who stands on the steps of the porch, a hand on the railing. Your nerves set in again immediately, and you turn in on yourself, trying not to cry.

“Um, the watch, the one from Sarah. That’s what it says, right?” You can see that very watch strapped to Joel’s wrist, the glass broken, and he brings his other hand to touch it.

“No one else knows what’s written on that watch,” Sarah says, and you whip around to face her, “holy shit, this is really, really real, isn’t it? You’re her?”

You just nod, and she lets out a laugh, springing forward to hug you. You yelp in surprise but hug her back immediately, revelling in the feeling of wet grass hitting your back. Sarah pulls away, looking up at her Dad with pleading eyes, “come on Dad, you know this is real. She’s real. We have to let her stay.”

You sit up again, grabbing your hat and standing, facing Joel though your eyes stay trained on the floor. He’s silent for a long time, thinking, before he grunts and you can just about make out a whisper of “fine” as Sarah celebrates and leads you back into the house.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

You stay there a few days, mostly keeping out of Joel’s way. They set you up in the spare bedroom, but Sarah comes to get you most nights, and you stay up together having sleepovers and telling stories.

You tell her all about Barbieland, about the beautiful beaches and all-woman Supreme Court, the Dreamhouses and the perfectly blue skies. She tells you about her life, the latest drama at school, about Brad the boy who won’t leave her alone and Jenny, her best friend who definitely fancies Brad. It’s incredibly exciting, and you wonder why you never left for the real world sooner.

Barbara’s ecstatic for you, of course; she’s staying in a nearby hotel for as long as you need her there, you even plan to introduce her to Sarah soon.

You wake up one morning, covered in a duvet somewhere in the corner of Sarah’s room, a host of her other old toys laid out where she’d been explaining each one to you last night. You wondered if there’s a Thomas The Tank Engine Land, too.

There are voices downstairs, and for all the rules of politeness and social expectations you’ve learned, you can’t help but tiptoe to the top of the landing and listen in to the conversation. To make sure Sarah’s okay, more than anything.

“Oh come on, Dad. It’s just one day!” Sarah almost shouts, though it’s obvious she’s trying to keep her voice down. They both are.

“Sarah, I gotta go to work. How the hell am I meant to keep a walking-talking Barbie doll entertained for 7 hours, huh? You want me to talk about makeup and glitter?” Joel’s voice is thick and annoyed, though he’s noticeably gentler when he talks to her.

Sarah scoffs, and you can’t see her, but you know she’s rolling her eyes. “She’s more than that, Dad. She’s smart, and she’s caring. Just - just do this for me, okay? And as soon as I’m back from school, I’ll take her off your hands.”

You can’t see them, but you hear their footsteps walk a little closer to the stairwell. “Fine, fine. Whatever. You better go and wake her up then, cos I gotta leave in 20,” Joel resigns.

You see the top of Sarah’s head from your view between the bannisters, and quickly hurry back to her room and under the sheets. She enters, sitting beside your spot on the floor and whispering, “Barbie? Hey Barbie, wake up!”

You feign tiredness, lifting your head and smiling at the girl. “Oh hey, Sarah, good morning.”

She giggles, and you’re quickly aware of your bedhead, something you never experienced in Barbieland. She talks as you grab a brush and fix yourself up.

“So look, I gotta go to school today. But my Dad agreed to take you with him to work so you’re not on your own… is that okay?”

She must see the slight panic in your eyes, as she quickly scrambles to reassure you.

“I know he was a bit of a hot head when you first met him, but he’s just… protective. But he’s sweet, really. Just give him a chance.”

You think about it for a moment. Barbara is still staying nearby, and you know she’d come and hang out with you while you wait for Sarah to come home if you asked. But then again, maybe it’d be good to spend some time with Joel/ It’s obvious that a lot of what brought you here comes down to their relationship, and if you can help to fix that even just a little bit, then your journey will have been worth it.

“Okay,” you answer, giving Sarah a small smile. She grins, standing up and grabbing her school bag before shouting over her shoulder as she leaves the room, “great! He’s going in 20 minutes… better get ready!”

You gasp, jumping up from your little nest on the floor and searching through the duffel bag Barbara packed for you of outfits to wear, all western-themed of course.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

Car rides with Joel are… awkward, to say the least.

He drives in silence, no radio, just the slow drone of traffic outside echoing between you, whistling through the open windows.

His car is very different to the ones in Barbieland. It doesn’t have an open top, the seats are worn and rough to the touch. The smell of coffee and cigarettes hangs in the air, and though you’re not used to it, you still find it comforting. Safe.

You reach for the radio, looking for a tune to play and maybe even sing - you’re sure that’ll cheer him up. But he stops you, not hurting you at all but batting your hand away and finally taking his eyes off the road.

“Don’t touch that,” he grunts, and you shrink back in on yourself again. He recoils a little, like he’s trying to appear less aggressive, and refocuses on the road.

“Sorry,” you mutter, shy.

He shakes his head, resting his elbow on the window beside him and readjusting himself, clearly uncomfortable. Whether it’s you or just the way he’s sat, you don’t know.

“‘S fine,” he mutters, barely audible. You nod, unsure of what else to say after that. You’re not looking at him, though you can see his movements in the edge of your peripheral, and you’re certain you can see him glancing at you every couple of minutes.

He finally speaks again after a long span of silence.

“So…” he starts, tentative. “Is it hard to get here? From- from Barbieland?”

You turn, though he isn’t facing you, eyes trained on the road. You keep looking at him anyway - this is progress at least.

“It’s pretty simple. First you drive, then you cycle, then take a boat, then a rocketship, then you stay in a campervan for a little while, then a snowmobile and voila! You’re rollerskating into LA.” You grin, recounting your adventure into the real world, happy to be able to share it with him. You’re not sure what it is about him, but there’s just something inside of you that’s desperate for him to get you. To care.

Joel just grunts, rubbing his thumb and forefinger between his brows, and you’re worried for a second that he doesn’t believe you, again. But he doesn’t press, instead he seems to be thinking, and then he asks another question.

“How do you get back?”

“Gotta do all that in reverse,” you answer, giggling. You’re sure you can see the slightest pull of his lips, the hint of a smile, but it’s gone just as quickly as it appeared.

You decide to try and engage him, let him talk. “Do you like what you do? For work?”

He just grunts again, and your shoulders sink, giving up. He doesn’t want to talk to you.

You decide not to press him further, but you can see him continue to glance at you a few times out of the corner of your eye, and there must be something in the air because he sighs before talking, a vulnerability in his voice.

“I used to. My Dad did it, contracting. Used to take me and my brother out every weekend and show us the trade. And when I started my business, that was good. Things were good. Now…” he trails off with a sigh.

“Things aren’t good?” You ask, trying to be careful. Trying to encourage him.

He nods. “Things are different, now. Busy. It’s a hard business.”

You don’t reply, not because you don’t want to, but because you’re not sure how. Joel doesn’t seem to mind. After a few moments, he pulls up at a red light, switching gears and finally looking at you properly.

“What do you do? In Barbieland?”

“Cowgirl,” you reply, being the one to avoid his gaze now.

“Cowgirl?” He repeats, and you only nod, offering a small smile and waiting for his reaction.

“So is that, like, on a ranch?”

He’s switching gears again, cruising through the now green light and continuing the drive, muttering something about ‘almost there’ as you arrive in an upscale neighbourhood, lined with huge houses and cars that even the Barbies don’t have.

You shrug, self conscious, but you answer him. You owe him that. He did it for you.

“No, just… you know. I wear the hat, and the denim and the boots. And I just… cowgirl. That’s what I do.”

He nods, and for the first time since you met him, you’re not nervous about what he’ll say next. You feel comfortable with him, safe even, and you’re not sure what it is about this little drive that’s flipped that switch, but you think he might feel the same way.

“Does it pay well?” He asks, a playfulness in his tone that you haven’t seen in him before. It’s like he’s lit up over the course of your conversation.

You grin, meeting his eyes properly now, where he draws away for a moment at a time to check the road but lets his gaze fall back on you straight after.

“Better than contracting,” you sass. You’re not sure where the cockiness comes from, whether you’re matching his tone or you just feel that comfortable with him, and for a moment you’re worried you’ve offended him with the joke.

But then he laughs.

It’s not hysterics, but it isn’t an amused ‘huff’ either. It’s like a giggle, a bright, giddy laugh that spreads across his face and makes his eyes light up like stars in the sky. It’s beautiful. It’s sweet.

You tell him as much.

“You have a pretty smile.”

He slows a little, his mouth quickly reigning in its smile and his chest no longer bubbling with that sweetness it had before. But he doesn’t look angry, or offended. He looks as though he’s not quite sure what to do. Like no one’s ever told him that before.

“Thank you,” he whispers, the words quickly blowing away with the wind through the open window. You smile in reply, and he watches, neither of you seeming to notice that he’s stopped the car and you’ve reached your destination. Neither of you move.

And then he says the sweetest words you’ve ever heard.

“So do you.”

It’s gentle, mumbled so lowly you almost think he doesn’t want you to hear it, and yet it hits you in the chest like a lorry.

You’ve been told that before, of course you have. You’re a Barbie. Whether it’s the other Barbies complementing one another, or the Kens trying to flirt, or Allen just being the nice guy he is, you’ve heard those words before.

But you’ve never heard them like this, like they’re hard to say, but they need to be said anyway.

It’s powerful.

You smile again, so does he. You stay in the car a little while longer, in silence again, but it’s a silence laced with comfort and feelings you don’t know how to label. Until he finally breaks the spell, climbing out of the car and helping you out on your side.

He spends the day showing you his work, how to plan builds, how to measure up wood and mark all the right places to cut it. You learn there’s a key named after Allen, and Joel snorts when you tell him how excited you are to let him know that. He even lets you hammer a few nails, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your heart flutter when he puts his arms around you to guide your movements, his breath in your ear.

And things are good after that day. Really good.

The three of you spend time together, as much as you can, almost like a family. You’ve never experienced family before, true family, but when you’re sat on the sofa with Sarah on a cushion on the floor and Joel to your side, just out of reach, you wonder if this is what it means to be home.

Of course, you quickly understand what Sarah means when she says she’s lonely. You know exactly where that feeling in your chest is coming from, because the times he’s with you are so fleeting, so far and few inbetween, that it feels like gold dust when you have him and like a black hole when you don’t.

And it’s only been a week before you realise just what it means, these feelings, and how they’re not like anything you’ve felt before.

Sarah reads you like a book, cornering you one day as you play dress up in her room.

“So, you like my Dad?” She asks, a knowing smirk already painted on her lips.

You splutter for a moment, trying to think of a rebuttal, but you give up because you know she has you nailed down. You know she knows.

“Is it that obvious?” You wince, making her grin spread even further.

“Only, like, all the time,” she laughs, and you flip down on the bed dramatically, making her laugh more. “You know he likes you too, right?”

You sit up again in a flash, eyes wide and searching hers. She raises a brow as you stare, your mind racing - she wouldn’t joke about that, would she? “How do you know?” You ask.

She rolls her eyes, taking a seat beside you on the bed. “Oh come on, man. It’s so obvious. He always talks about you, Barbie said this, Barbie did that’.” She mocks his deep southern drawl, making you giggle. “And he’s always looking at you.”

You blush - you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t noticed. You suppose a part of you just never let yourself believe he could feel the same way.

“What do you think I should do?” You’re nervous now, unsure of yourself. Unsure if this is real.

Sarah smiles, a cheeky sort of grin that doesn’t make you feel particularly at ease, and pats your knee with her hand. “Leave it with me.”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

She calls you down that night, late, not long after Joel came home from work. You switch off the documentary you were watching, something about the animal kingdom, one that amazed you with all the creatures that walk the earth around you.

You tiptoe down the stairs, calling out Sarah’s name when you can’t find her in the front room, confused. You hear her again, distantly, like she’s outside, and you follow the sound through the kitchen and out the back door, where you’re greeted with the alluring smell of a sizzling barbecue.

“What is this?” You ask, stepping fully outside and taking in the scene. The backyard, usually overgrown and unkept, is littered with fairylights that wrap around the patio columns and line the fence right down to the end. The Miller’s barbecue is fired up, with an array of vegetable skewers and sausages and burgers cooking on top, Sarah proudly stood beside it in her apron while Joel watches, concerned.

Joel. He’s sat at the little table she’s put together, a round glass one with mismatched chairs on either side. He’s dressed up - his hair looks neater than usual, like he’s put extra care into styling it properly. His shirt isn’t plaid, or denim; it’s a light blue colour that matches the brown of his eyes so wonderfully. He looks nervous.

“Hi,” he says, gentle and soft. Your eyes must be wide and confused, because he doesn’t say anything else, just looks at Sarah for support. She rolls her eyes - again - and puts down the tongs she’d been using to flip the burgers.

“You two are so boring pining over each other. So, I’ve set up a date!” She grins, turning back to the food without a care in the world.

You nod, taking another step forward, looking back toward Joel and not bothering to fight the smile that spreads on your face.

He doesn’t fight his, either.

You reach out for the chair opposite him, but before you can, he’s standing up and pulling it out for you, his eyes meeting yours.

Not one of the Kens have ever pulled out a seat for you, you think, thanking Joel and sitting on the little chair. He returns to his own seat, clearing his throat and pouring you a drink; red wine, a new favourite of yours since he introduced you to it.

Sarah plates up the food, setting it down in front of you in a dramatic waiter-style fashion.

“You’re certainly my daughter, huh?” Joel asks, pride in his eyes as he looks at the food, which you have to admit looks pretty damn good.

“The student has become the master,” she quips, and your heart melts at the sweet moment between the two.

“Now, you two enjoy. I’ll be in my room. If you need anything… get it yourself. The kitchen is literally right there.”

You and Joel roll your eyes as Sarah bows out, laughing at her own jokes and giving a final wave as she heads into the house, leaving you both alone.

“So,” you begin, unsure of what to say.

“So.” Joel mimics, though you don’t think he plans to say anything after that. He’s not one to initiate conversation.

But then again, people can change.

“You look really nice,” he says, his eyes so heavy set on you that it makes you feel flush. You look down, at the old baggy top you’re wearing over grey sweats, and you’re suddenly self conscious compared to his nice shirt and carefully-put hair.

“I don’t,” you reply, embarrassed. “I look like a mess.”

He interjects immediately. “No. You don’t. How could you? I mean you’re literally - you’re -“ he can’t find his words.

You finish the sentence for him. “A Barbie.”

“Yeah.”

You’re not sure why it makes you feel the way that it does. Sad. Like you’re not quite real to him, a novelty. He sighs, and for all the time you’ve spent with him by now, you can’t read what’s going on behind the man’s eyes at all.

You sit in silence for a short while, enjoying Sarah’s food, drinking wine. There’s something hanging in the air, heavy and strange, and neither of you know how to address it.

It surprises you when Joel finally breaks the silence again. “Do you miss home?” He asks, pouring you another glass.

You think for a moment. You answer honestly. “I don’t know.” His eyebrow quirks, motioning for you to continue.

“There was a time when I’d have never even dreamed of leaving Barbieland. When I didn’t want anything to change. But things are different now, since Ster- since Barbara left. Everyone thinks differently, feels differently. It’s a very different place. And suddenly everything that made me love Barbieland doesn’t matter to me anymore. The perfect wardrobe, the perfect house, the perfect life. None of that matters. It’s the things here, in this world, that matter.”

“What things?” Joel asks, and it’s only now that you notice his hand has migrated across the table, holding your much smaller one. You wrap your fingers around his, revelling in the small squeeze he gives you, fighting back a smile.

You’re staring at your interlocked hands when you answer. “Family. Purpose.”

You look at him. “Love.”

He breathes out, like he’s letting something go, something that made him scared but doesn’t anymore. You squeeze his hand.

The rest of the night goes smoothly. It’s sweet, comfortable. It’s nice.

Until you put your foot in it.

“Do you still feel lonely?” Joel asks, the buzz of red wine making his drawl even heavier.

You smile, glossy eyes doting on him, hands still intertwined. “Well, I felt lonely because Sarah felt lonely. So… no. I feel good.”

Joel frowns, his head tilts. “Do you know why she felt like that?”

You’re not sure how to approach this with him. It’s something you’ve thought about, pondered for days, turned over and over in your mind with no good resolution.

You know exactly why she felt like that. She told you as much.

My Dad’s never here. He’s always away, working. I don’t see him.

But you also know it’s a truth he won’t accept. Not easily, at least.

“Well,” you begin, treading lightly. “I think she just… misses you, Joel. Misses her Dad.”

He’s confused. He pulls away from you, his grip on your hand loosens. “But I’m here.” It’s an assertion, challenging your suggestion.

“I know, I know. But you’re not… you’re not here. You come home from work late, you’re tired, you go to bed. You wake up and before we can even say ‘good morning’ you’re out the door again, going to work.”

His jaw flickers, in that same way it did when you first met. He’s angry.

“I do what i have to do to support my family,” he grumbles, fully retracting his hand now. You feel the loss of his touch instantly, in your heart.

That same loneliness sets in again, but it’s not Sarah’s anymore. No, it belongs solely, wholly, to you.

You try to placate him. “I know, Joel, I know. I get it. I just -”

“Just what?” He interrupts you, and you pause, scared to speak. Scared to mess this up.

“She needs you to talk to her. She needs you to listen to her. She needs you to hold her and let her know she’s not alone. She doesn’t see that right now, Joel.”

He doesn’t reply, just stares into space, arms folded. Guarded.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“‘That how it works in Barbieland? Everyone gets what they want, everyone’s happy?” He asks, agitated.

You shake your head. “No, Joel, I-”

“‘Cos that’s not how the real world works, sweetheart. Everythin’ ain’t perfect. The trees ain’t made of cotton fuckin’ candy.” He sneers, mocking you, and the words pierce through you like knives.

“And I ain’t taking parenting advice from no Barbie doll.”

That really, really hurts.

And it makes you angry, because for all your faults and weaknesses, being a Barbie certainly isn’t one of them.

“Why are you being so defensive?” You ask, your tone rising to match his. “You know I'm right. All that girl wants is her Dad, not a stranger who’s barely there, not a ghost that puts food on the table but won’t even come home on time for her. She wants her Dad, Joel.”

He stands, slamming his palms on the glass with so much force you fear it’ll shatter. He doesn’t shout, but his words are sharp, pointed, and they land exactly where he intended them to.

“You have no idea what it’s like. You’re stuck in your fantasy world, where everything’s pink, but you haven’t got a clue what it’s like to live in the real world. So why don’t you head back to your special Barbieland and leave the actual living, the hard parts, to the rest of us, huh?”

Tears threaten to spill on your cheeks, your eyes burning from the strain of holding them back. “Joel, you don’t mean that-”

“Yes, I do. Just… just get out of my house.”

He walks away from the table, crossing his arms and facing away from you, staring out into the night. You nod, to yourself if no one else, breaking your strength as a sob racks through your body. You clasp a shaking hand to your mouth, not wanting him to hear you, but you see the way his shoulders clench. He heard.

He doesn’t react further, though. Doesn’t turn. Doesn’t make sure you’re okay.

So you do what he said. You leave.

You stalk past Sarah, wiping away the onslaught of tears that have taken hold now, ignoring her as she shouts between you and Joel. “Guys? What’s going on?”

She doesn't follow you upstairs, choosing to give you space and speak to her Dad instead, you think. You text Barbara, asking her to pick you up, and shove your clothes into your bag as quickly as you can in spite of your blurred vision and the messy hair that covers your face.

You’re not sure how long it’s been, you’d have only thought seconds if you didn’t know Barbara’s hotel was at least 10 minutes away, but you hear her beep the horn from outside and follows its direction.

Sarah’s waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. You look down the hall, where Joel sits at the kitchen counter, arms still folded and head down.

“Please,” Sarah begs, “don’t go.” She’s crying, and it makes your heart hurt more.

“I have to.”

You try to move past her, but she stops you, blocking the way with her body. “Sarah, I have to,” you repeat, choking on your own sobs.

“Why?” She shouts, hot tears staining her face. “My Dad told me what happened. You’re right. He’s wrong, he’s always wrong. He’s never here, but you are, and now you’re leaving me like everyone else. Like my Mom.”

Your nose scrunches. More tears fall. Your chest hurts. “I’m not your Mom, Sarah. And your Dad… he loves you. He loves you so much. Promise me you’ll remember that, okay? He loves you. I love you.”

She doesn’t stop you when you try to leave again. You all but run out the door, the once comfortable night air now painful as it hits your wet cheeks, ice cold. Barbara looks at you with more concern than you’ve seen her with before, more than when she discovered the Mojo Dojo Casa Houses, but you say nothing as you get in the car. You just stare straight ahead, and she drives.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

“I’m so sorry, Barbie. I never thought it’d end like this.”

Barbara’s holding your hands, reluctant to let go. You don’t know when you’ll see her again. “It’s not your fault,” you reply, and it’s true. It’s not her fault. It’s yours.

“And it isn’t yours, Barbie,” she retorts, like she can read your mind. You just nod, unconvincing, but she doesn’t push it.

You hug her, for the millionth time since she took you home from Joel and Sarah’s house, since she flew back to LA with you. And now here you are, at Venice Beach with your roller skates on, going back to the place you’ve always called home.

So why does it feel like you’re going anywhere but?

“Thank you for everything, Barbara. I mean it.” You pull back, wiping a tear from her cheek and smiling the best you can, your own tears rolling down your face like the skaters behind you.

She smiles back, and though she doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t need to. You know she loves you. You know she’ll miss you.

And with that, you pull away, pushing on each skate until you’re rolling away from the real world and back into your own. Back where you belong, where you’re supposed to be. Where you’re actually wanted.

There are people pointing, laughing at you as you skate past them, but you don’t care. You haven’t cared about anything since last night.

You can see the snowscape ahead, the next part of your journey. Your next step towards Barbieland and a world of pink perfection.

A world that isn’t the same to you now.

You’re nearly there, about to switch skates for the snowmobile, when a familiar, desperate voice comes from behind you.

“Barbie! Barbie, wait!”

You brake, skates screeching on the ground, as you turn to search for him in the crowd.

And there he is, Joel, clinging to a ramp on the left side of the park with the most ridiculous pair of neon green roller skates you’ve ever seen.

“Joel?” You call, immediately rolling over to him when you realise how much he’s struggling. If you weren’t so filled with the joy of seeing him here, you’d laugh at the state he’s in; eyes wide and legs falling beneath him, clearly not used to roller skating. “What are you doing here?”

“I- I wanted to- jesus, if I could just stand up-” You giggle, and he shoots you a look, which just makes you laugh harder. You help him up, laying a gentle hand on his chest as he nearly falls again, your other hand clinging to his waist as he finally finds his balance.

He’s blushing, embarrassed, but there’s something else in his eyes as they finally settle on you and he sighs. “Barbie, I’m so sorry.”

You’re not sure where to look. At him, at your hands, at those ridiculous roller skates he’s wearing. Of course, you can’t pull your eyes from him, anyway.

“It’s - it’s okay. You were right anyway, I’m not-”

“No, no,” he interrupts, placing both hands on your cheeks and quickly stumbling as he loses his balance again without the support of the rail. You hold him, giggling as he almost brings you both down, though you manage to keep him upright and he laughs right there with you.

“Jesus, this is embarrassing,” he finally huffs, and your head falls against his chest. When you raise it again, he’s already looking at you, with those big brown eyes that you never want to forget.

“I wasn’t right. I was an asshole. A huge, insecure asshole.” You try to shake your head, to disagree, but he doesn’t let you. “Just let me say this,” he begs. You let him.

“You were right. I haven’t been there for her. I haven’t been the Dad she needs me to be. I’m just… I’m just scared. Of not being good enough. Of letting her down. So I work, and come home late, and leave early, and I convince myself it’s the right thing to do. But I’m hurting her. And I hurt you.”

There’s pain in his eyes, and it pains you as if they were your own.

“I haven’t seen Sarah this happy in a long time,” he continues, resting a hand on your cheek again, carefully this time. “Barbie, I haven’t been this happy in a long time.”

You don’t know what to say. You take your hand from his waist, tentative, making sure the other one is stable on his chest. You place it over his where it rests on your cheek, folding your fingers around his own, and turning to press a gentle kiss into his palm. He mumbles something, you don’t hear what, but from the look in his eyes you think you know.

“Don’t go,” he begs. “Don’t - don’t go back there. I want you here. You belong here.”

You look into his eyes. You know he means it.

And so you do the only thing that makes any sense in this moment.

You kiss him.

You’re careful to keep him upright, but he seems to have stopped caring about that; instead both hands are on you again, frantic, holding you tight like he never wants to lose you again.

When you finally break the kiss, neither of you pull away from one another, your foreheads connected and breaths intertwined.

“Okay,” you gasp, pulling on his shirt. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

Joel closes his eyes again, sighing in relief as you finally release your other hand, touching it to his neck and feeling the rapid pulse that beats against it. You’re holding one another so closely, so tightly, that there’s no way he can fall now.

“You’ll come back to Texas?” He asks, like he still doesn’t quite believe you.

You nod again, giggling at the joy that spreads on his face, though it’s quickly muffled when he kisses you again. And again, and again and again until you’re breathless and sweaty and no longer sure which of you needs help staying upright the most.

You help him turn, wrapping your arms around his waist and supporting him as you try to make your way back across the park, and only then do you see Barbara and Sarah stood to the sidelines, watching, smiling.

You realise Sarah has her phone out, pointed at her Dad, and you’re pretty sure Joel sees it too but before he can say anything, he slips again and falls flat on his bum on the floor, bringing you right down with him.

You gasp, cushioned by his chest and his protective arms around you, laughing hysterically as he groans and sits up. You watch as his face turns from pain into anger, his eyes fixated on something ahead, and you think you know what it is-

“Sarah! Delete that video right now!”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

Tag list: @vickie5446 @skysmiller @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @letmehavemyfictionalmen

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller x yn #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x barbie!reader #poeticbarnes writes #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #barbie #barbie movie

1K notes · View notes

thatanimeramenchick · 2 months

Text

Yandere Vox x Secretary Reader Part One

No one asked for this, but whatever. Bite me. I’ll get to the asks, I swear

3,516 words

Part Two - Part Three

–-

The last thing you wanted was to draw attention to yourself. In a place like hell, where the worst of society sunk together and only somehow seemed to get worse, it was a good idea to not catch other people’s eyes. If their eyes were on you, it was almost never for a good reason.

So when you decided to start working, it made sense you would do something quiet and in the background like data filing for a large media company. While there were many more unsavory jobs that paid more, you wanted to avoid the obvious and dangerous crime life of hell as much as possible in your daily life. You had had enough of being unwillingly tied up in that kind of stuff when you were alive. You might as well spend your eternity in some type of peace, or at least as much as someone in hell can get.

So, you made sure you were presentable as you walked into Voxtekk on your first day to work, dressed simple business attire and keeping a quiet demeanor.

“There you are!” said who you presumed was your new boss, a short man with glasses and a blue hair dye, “Was wondering if you were going to show up!”

“Sorry,” you said, “The traffic was bad.”

“Well, you better get used to leaving early,” he said, “Traffic is always a bitch in this part of Pentagram City.”

He continued to speak as he led you to the elevator.

“So, I’ve been told you have a lot of experience with this sort of thing on earth,” he said.

“Yes, I did library work while I was alive,” you said.

And some smuggling. Especially with weapons.

You didn’t think it would be necessary to tell him that though. The job had come in handy though by giving you a knack for remembering where things were.

“Good, good,” he said, “I expect you’ll be able to figure out how to do this on your own then.”

He led you to a room that was filled with file drawers as well as a large computer off to the side.

“There’s thousands, if not millions, of files in here, both physically and digitally. It’ll be your responsibility to make sure that everything new brought in gets put in its proper place, as well as that anything that is requested can be easily found,” he said, “As the biggest media company in hell, it’s important that we know at all times where every piece of information or media can be located.”

It was overwhelming, like the world’s largest and most complicated library. It made your head spin a little looking at it all, but you always liked a challenge.

“You think you can handle it?” he asked.

You nod with some confidence, though you don’t quite feel it. This was going to take some getting used to.

“I hope for both our sakes you’re right,” he said, “Last filer I hired couldn’t tell left from right and Vox fried me to a crisp. Took me a good week before I was able to regenerate properly.”

Crap, that sounded bad. Note to self, don’t let that happen to you.

“I think I’ll be all right,” you said.

---

It was a bit overwhelming the first few weeks. You were competent enough to keep things in order though. Your experience was paying off, and you weren’t hearing any complaints or news about any assistants getting fried, so you supposed you were doing your job well enough.

Within two months of starting your job, you finally met the rumored big man himself. He had come in one day, visibly in a bad mood as he walked over to your desk, a man trailing behind him.

“I don’t know why I even pay you morons,” he said, “I have to hear important information secondhand from fucking Valentino because you can’t be bothered to keep up with what’s happening in hell.”

“Look, sir, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to not tell you,” he said, “I just didn’t think you’d care.”

Vox had stormed over to your desk.

“So you KNEW and thought it would be a good idea to just not tell me at all?” he said.

“T-that’s not it! I just-”

Vox held up a hand to interrupt him before turning to you.

“I want the file we have in here on Alastor,” he said, a static buzz of irritation on the last word, “Now.”

“Of course, sir,” you said.

You hurried over to the file cabinet and quickly located it.

“See, not everyone around here is as useless as you are,” Vox said to his other employee.

You saw the hapless employee mutter something under his breath out of the corner of your eye, and before you knew it a chain had appeared and Vox yanked him closer.

“What was that?” he said

“N-nothing, sir!” said the now visibly sweating employee.

A shock went through the poor guy before Vox released him.

“Useless,” he said, “You know what? I think you need some time learning exactly who is in charge around here.”

Vox pointed a clawed finger at you.

“You,” he said, “It’s your lucky day, kid. You wanna promotion?”

“Um… yes?” you said.

“Great. Samuel, have fun in janitorial work for the next decade,” he said, “You’re being replaced. What’s your name?”

“F/N,” you said.

“Hope you have customer service experience as well as filing,” he said, “You’re moving up to my office. Need someone with a functioning brain to run the front desk. Pack up!”

You hesitated for a minute before grabbing the stuff under your desk. You figured the last thing you wanted to do was piss this guy off more than he already looked.

---

Despite him being in such a bad mood that first day, you soon found that most of the time Vox was relatively calm, at least compared to what you heard about the other employers in this building. While he at times could get pretty irritated with things, especially if a certain never-to-be-named demon was brought up by an idiot intern, he rarely took it out on you. He usually took the daily bothers of running the company in stride.

Besides that, running a front desk of an office wasn’t too different than running the front desk at the library. You didn’t have to do near as much organizing in terms of files, but you still did spend a lot of time making sure that everything in Vox’s life was organized from his meetings to when he had lunch.

He didn’t talk much with you outside of work related stuff, which is why you were so surprised when you found out what he was doing one day.

It was a nice enough morning, at least as much as a nice morning can be in hell. You took a sip of your coffee briefly as you stretched and looked out your office window. While you missed the blue sky of earth, the red sky of hell had its own sort of charm you supposed. You glanced down, looking at the people walking back and forth, small as ants. Running around willy nilly. Someone was moving into the building that afternoon, a common occurrence here, as you had heard talk that Valentino liked to keep his employees in close quarters. Seems like they had a similar taste in furniture to your own. Almost frighteningly so.

Except… wait. Was that your sofa? And your dresser? Your bookshelves? You lowered your coffee to the windowsill as you squinted down at your entire catalog of furniture being moved into the building. Something wasn’t right.

You knocked on your boss’s door and entered in a bit of a rush as you heard him say to come in.

“Vox, what on earth is going on?” you asked, trying not to sound panicked.

“F/N, that could be ten different things. I need you to be more specific,” he asked, his tone nonchalant as he didn’t even look up from his phone.

“I just saw what I’m pretty sure was all my belongings being moved into the building,” you said.

“Oh yes, that. Well, I had wanted to surprise you, but I guess it’s too late for that,” he said, somewhat absently, “I hate that you have to take such a long commute to the other side of town. And I know all the apartments there are so run down, I figured I’d just move you into the studio like a lot of our other valued staff.”

What? While it was true your apartment was kind of rinky dinky, it was yours. And you liked the privacy and soft solitude it offered after work. Besides, you didn’t like the idea of your boss just moving you willy nilly without your permission. Still, you didn’t want to show him you were upset.

“Vox, you don’t have to do this,” you said, “I’m ok with where I’m at. I don’t want to trouble you.”

“It’s no trouble at all. Think of it as a courtesy as my secretary,” he said.

You could feel your entire face tighten as you got more frustrated. Some of it was probably starting to show, despite your best efforts.

“I never asked for this though,” you said, trying to tread carefully, “and I like my old apartment. I… I don’t really want this...”

“But you do want this,” he said, finally looking up at you, “You want to be in a nicer apartment, closer to work, safer, don’t you? You always want to be here.”

That… You supposed that was true. Something about his tone soothed you, sent a pleasant lull through your skull and made your body relax as he looked in your eyes. Your protests now seemed a bit foolish and childish. In all honesty, you supposed it just made sense that you move in to the studio. Everything you needed was here, truly, why would you want to live away from here? You did want a nicer apartment without the stressful commute.

“O-ok,” you said, a small uncomfortable feeling of doubt still in your stomach, “Yeah. That’s true. I do want to be here more… closer to the office...”

He smiled at that and walked over to you. He placed an arm around you, guiding you back to your own office.

“Of course you do! And besides I already had them move everything here, so why don’t you just go back to work, and they’ll have finished moving everything in by the time your shift is done,” Vox said, “I guarantee once you’ve had time to think it through you’ll be glad we did it.”

“If you say so,” you said.

As he walked you back to your desk, he continued his calming chatter.

“That’s a good girl. You and I both have a lot of work today, anyway, so I think we can agree that you should just focus on that for now,” he said as he nudged over to your desk.

You sat down and turned to the planner on your desk as you heard your boss walk into his personal office and closed the door. You just stare blankly for a good minute, feeling a little light, like you were on Zoloft before shaking your head back and forth. Might as well just go back to work. You could think more about this later.

---

It had been happening so slowly. One day, week, month at a time, Vox was implementing himself into your life inch by inch, despite the fact that the two of you weren’t bound on paper. He had moved you into the building, where you knew that you were almost constantly on camera. He kept you so loaded down with work you barely had a social life anymore, with no time to hang out with friends or date. The pay was ok, you supposed, but it felt minuscule compared to the amount of work he was expecting you to do on a daily basis.

And then there was the… weirder things that had been happening. Whenever you tried to talk to him, he had a way of getting you to forget about whatever it was you were upset about, at least for a little while. But it would always come back eventually, and as you thought about it more, it irritating you that he was dismissing your concerns.

You hadn’t really noticed it until he had gone on vacation for a week with the other Vees. You had been quite busy with work, but without him there to calm you down whenever your “concerns” came up, you realized that maybe you had let your priorities get a little askew. You needed a career change.

So, perhaps against your better judgment, a few days after he had returned, you had left a two weeks notice on his desk before he came in. It only took about fifteen minutes after he came in for him to summon you to his office.

“F/N? What is this?” he asked, holding out the letter.

“It’s my resignation,” you said, trying to sound steady and confident.

“I’m sorry… your what?” he said

“I-I regret to inform you that I will be moving out and relocating to the Doomsday Sector in two weeks,” you said, “I appreciate all that you’ve done here for me as I worked here, but I am making a career change.”

He looked baffled for a second, like he couldn’t believe what you were saying before chuckling a little.

“No, you’re not,” he said, “You don’t want to leave he-”

“Stop!” you yelled out with more force than you intended.

As soon as he had started speaking that familiar fuzzy feeling had entered your mind, and you had closed your eyes, shaking your head. You didn’t want him talking you out of this.

“I-I’m sorry,” you said, as you reopened your eyes, but didn’t really look at him, “But I don’t want to talk about this.”

It was awkwardly silent for a minute.

“Is it a pay thing?” he finally asked, “Because that can be adjusted. You do good work. I certainly wouldn’t mind paying you more.”

“It’s not a pay thing,” you said, “It’s not anything. I-I don’t want to talk about this, so I’m going to go-”

“You’re not leaving!” he said, slamming his fist on his desk.

You jumped, a little surprised at his reaction. While you knew he wouldn’t be thrilled, you hadn’t expected him to be so volatile. He was always so calm and collected that this kind of reaction to something so minuscule confused you.

“Vox, I know you like my work, but I think you’re overreacting a little bit,” you said.

“Overreacting?” he said, looking pissed, “Overreacting?!”

He grasped at the air, a look of surprise entering his face when no chain appeared. You look at him bewildered. Had he really just tried to…?

“Vox, we don’t have a contract?” you said, “Did you forget that?”

Had he really gotten so comfy with you that he thought that you were another one of his little pets? To hell with the two week notice, you were going today.

“I think I should go back to work,” you said.

He didn’t say anything as you went back to your desk. You finished filing information extra fast that day, doing a bit of a sloppy job. As soon as it was noon, you left for what appeared to be a lunch break, but you had decided was actually going to be your escape.

This situation was getting uncomfortable. You hurried to your room and haphazardly threw clothes and necessities into your suitcase. Anything you left behind on accident you would just have to replace. On a final note, you shoved your wallet into your back pocket and walked over to the door.

Except it didn’t open. The nob didn’t even turn when you yanked on it. You tried it a few times, to no avail.

“Dammit,” you murmured under your breath, and you pounded your fist on the door.

You were about ready to start kicking it when you heard a burst of static behind you. You turned to see your boss coming in through the camera system. While it had always been an eerie feature to your arrangements, it was a million more times so to see Vox using it to his full advantage.

“What the hell is going on?” you asked.

“I should be the one asking that,” he said, “Just where do you think you’re going?”

“None of your damn business!” you said, “I don’t know what security you have on this door, but you better take it off now or-”

“Or?” he asked.

Now it was your turn to look tense as he gave you a self-satisfied smirk. You could feel your face flushing in a quiet rage as he spoke. Though you were hiding them behind your back, you could feel your fists clenching, as well as the shape of you mouth hardening.

“Vox, you are being ridiculous! We don’t even have a contract! I’m not bound to you, so you can’t keep me here,” you said.

He cocked his head at you, raising an eyebrow, “Oh really now?”

Something about the nonchalance in his tone only pissed you off more.

“Yes, really!” you yelled, “I’m not staying here. I’m leaving whether you want me to or not.”

“And just how do you expect to do that?” asked Vox, “Jump out the window? I mean you could splatter yourself on the ground, but it’d be a bit rude considering I’ll have to send some unlucky interns to scrape you off the pavement and put you back in your room until you regenerate.”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in and clenching and unclenching your hands with an unnecessary amount of force. You tried to calm your voice down.

“Vox, I understand that you like the work I do for you, but you’re being ridiculous,” you said.

“You think this about work?” he said, “F/N, don’t act stupid. I can get a new secretary anytime I want, ten secretaries. You and I both know that’s not what this is about.”

You looked at him confused. It wasn’t?

“For someone who is so smart with data, you are being so unbelievably slow right now.”

He advanced on you, causing you to shrink against the frame of the door as he leaned over you. He pushed you against the wall and gripped your chin in his hand, forcing you to look him in the eye. It all happened in a flash, too fast to register, and before you could realize it, he was pulling you into a rough kiss.

It wasn’t what you had expected, though it wasn’t as if you had thought a lot about what kissing your boss would feel like. On the rare occasions when you had wondered about it, you had assumed kissing Vox would be like kissing the screen of a laptop. Apparently though, he had a literal working mouth as you could clearly tell from the sensation of his tongue and even teeth connecting with your own. Your chin ached in his firm grip, which could have been more tender if it didn’t feel like he was keeping you from turning your face away. You tried to do so, but he didn’t even seem to notice it, he was so preoccupied.

He held you like this for a good two or three minutes, his saliva coating your mouth. Though it was barely there, you could feel a slight buzz to it, as if some of his electricity was in his fluids. He finally released you though, some of his spit getting on your lips as he removed himself. A sigh filled the air as your lips parted.

“Even better than I thought it would be,” he murmured

He shifted a bit and was leaning in for another kiss when you kicked him in the shins.

“Ow!” he said, releasing you and giving you time to dart away.

You had moved in a burst to the other side of the room, glaring at him with what you hoped was resentment. There was also something else though. A feeling of deep rooted anxiety and fear was stirring in full force, despite the fact that over the past few months you had been pushing it down as much as possible. You hoped he couldn’t see the weakness in you.

Whether he did or not though, you could tell he was visibly pissed for a minute. He finally got his features under control, but as he spoke his tone held all of the avarice that had left his face.

“Whatever,” he said, “Contract or not, you’re still mine, and you’re not going anywhere until you accept that. Throw a tantrum if you want to, but you’re stuck here.”

You watched as he went back into the camera system as easily as he had come. You curled up on the floor, burying your face in your arms.

#yandere x reader #hazbin hotel #vox #yandere vox #vox x reader

766 notes · View notes

theosbaby · 2 months

Text

birthday princess

stepbro!draco malfoy x fem!reader

masterlist

part one ;; off-limits

summary; it's your nineteenth birthday and your stepbrother gives his favorite girl a very special birthday present.

warnings; college!au, innocent!reader, dom!draco, sub!reader, stepcest, SMUT, oral sex (fem receiving), p in v, lots of praising and (shitty) dirty talk, unprotected sex (wrap it up everybody!)

author's note; english isn't my first language, so you might find mistakes. i'm kinda obsessed with stepbrother!draco lately, so i'm gonna make this a series... hope you like it!

you were back in college, the new semester had just started after christmas break and you were forced to return to your usual rutine; which you didn't want to, because that meant draco and you would have to be apart for months till you both came back home for summer break; drawbacks of going to separate schools, miles away from each other.

today, it was friday, and it was your birthday. your roommate had tried to convince you, very insistently, to go with her to a frat party to celebrate, allegating that "it was supposed to be fun turning nineteen", but you were far too depressed to party, so she ended up going alone; you just missed draco very much. you knew that what you guys had was very wrong, but you couldn't stop thinking about that night in his bedroom. the way he had touched you, the way he had kissed you, the way he had made you feel...

gods, now you were depressed and horny.

a soft knocking on your door brought you back to reality and you sighed, rolling your eyes. you got up from your bed, thinking it was just your roommate again —she tended to forget her keys very frequently. but when you opened the door and saw draco standing there, you almost cried.

"happy birthday, princess," he said with that sultry voice of his that you had missed so much.

he was carrying a huge flowers bouquet on one hand and a white paper bag on the other. he was looking at you with the biggest smile on his face, and you didn't hesitate to throw yourself at him to hug him tightly.

"draco!" you shouted, your voice muted by his flesh as you buried your face on the crook of his neck, inhaling his expensive cologne.

draco chuckled, returning the hug instantly. "missed me that much?" he teased, kissing your temple softly.

"yeah, i did," you muttered as you nodded. you pulled back slightly to look up at him with a cute blush and bright eyes, "can't believe you came all the way here just to see me! you didn't have to..."

"well, i couldn't let my favorite birthday girl spend her day alone now, could i?" draco asked with a smirk, placing another kiss on your forehead that time.

he stepped into your dormroom slowly, picking you up with one arm as if you were nothing to carry you inside. then, he closed the door behind him using his foot.

"i love you."

you smiled big, wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him a chaste peck on the lips; you couldn't help but blush as you did so.

"i love you more," he whispered against your mouth, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

he then set you down gently, careful not to crush the bouquet between your two bodies; you quickly grabbed it, smelling the fresh scent of the flowers. you did not have a proper vase to put the bouquet in, so you just settled it carefully on top of your desk.

"these are beautiful," you said; the bouquet was made of pink tulips, your favourites.

"i bought you a little present too, wanna open it?" he asked, giving you the white bag.

"yes!" you giggled as you took it and ran excitedly towards your bed.

you sat down on it while draco stared at you adoringly. with shaky hands, you took a little box out of the bag; it was covered in a pretty silver wrapping paper that you quickly ripped open. inside the box, you found a gold necklace with a heart pendant; on the backside of it, it could be read: "draco's little princess".

you smiled big when you saw it. "it's so pretty, i love it!"

"i knew you would." draco smirked, walking over to you and taking the necklace from your hands. he sat behind you on the bed, saying, "let me put it on for you."

he gently pushed your long hair aside to place the necklace around your neck. after that, he leaned in, planting a tender kiss on your soft skin. you turned around to face him, kneeling on the bed while you pushed your hair backwards again to show him how the necklace looked on you, your thin and tiny white singlet doing nothing to cover your body.

"perfect," he breathed out, looking at you with such intensity that it made your heart skip a beat.

his eyes traveled down to your lips as his fingers traced the outline of the pendant resting on your chest. you blushed, averting his gaze, as a smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

"don't look at me like that." you chuckled shyly, covering your flushed face.

"like what?"

he smirked cupping your face to force you to look at him, he was still gazing at you like he wanted to devour you. you swallowed hard as the butterflies in your stomach fluttered about crazily. you let out a breathy sigh, your lips parting slightly.

"like you wanna eat me up..." you answered timidly, your voice was merely above a whisper as you did so.

"you have no idea how much I want to," he admitted, a small growl rumbling from his chest. he brushed his thumb over your full bottom lip, causing you to gasp softly, then he added, "been dying to taste that sweet pussy of yours, princess."

you were a lost for words as his blunt statement made your heart race like crazy, you could feel your face and ears heating up from embarrassment but also from arousal.

"don't be shy, baby," he purred, leaning in closer until his breath fanned across your neck and he peppered your skin with little kisses, "would you let me eat your beautiful pussy? wanna make my girl feel good on her special day..." he asked with a soft voice.

you squirmed and let out a little whimper as you felt his hands moving down to grasp at your creamy thighs, pulling you onto his lap. your head tilted to the side, giving him full access to your neck. all that attention he was giving to your body was making you really wet, your pussy aching to be touched, so you nodded in response.

"yes, princess?" he whispered against your skin, nipping at it gently.

he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, seeing the need and desire there.

"you want me to eat your pussy? use your words, baby," he questioned again, his voice husky with lust.

"yeah... want you to eat my pussy, dray," you muttered shyly, blushing at the dirty words that came out of your mouth.

"good girl," he praised you.

he gave you a small kiss on the lips before standing up with you in his arms to place you on your back on top of the bed.

"now, spread those beautiful legs wide for me," he commanded, gently caressing the back of your knees.

you obeyed instantly, looking up at him with big innocent eyes. your tiny shorts hiked up, barely covering your skin. he eased himself between your spread thighs, his hands trailing up your legs tenderly in search for the waistband of your pijama bottoms.

his fingers tugged at it to start pulling them down alongside your cotton panties. you lifted your hips to allow him to take off your clothes easily, and both items of clothing got stuck at your left ankle, but you just left them there, too eager to feel his touch to care.

now, you laid completely bare and vulnerable in front of him, your body shivering in anticipation.

"gods, you're so fucking gorgeous," he muttered, his voice low and husky.

he lowered his face to kiss your stomach, trailing hot kisses all the way down to your mound as his hands gripped your hips tightly. you whimpered at his compliment, your hand reaching to grasp at his blonde hair.

"draco, don't tease." you pouted, running your fingers through his soft strands.

"ask nicely," he purred, nipping at your inner thigh playfully, while he groaned in pleasure as you continued to tug on his hair, encouraging him.

"dray, please, need you so bad," you pleaded, your hips jerking forward; your clit was throbbing with need.

"very well, princess," he cooed, kissing his way up your inner thigh towards your sensitive pussy.

his tongue flicked out to tease your little bud before he sucked it into his mouth, groaning against your skin as he tasted you for the first time. you moaned in delight, pulling gently at his hair to push him closer to your cunt. the new sensation made your toes curl; you had never had your pussy eaten, and gods, it felt so fucking good.

"mhmm, you taste so fucking sweet, baby," he hummed against your cunt.

his tongue kept tracing slow circles around your swollen clit before he sucked it into his mouth, causing you to gasp and buck your hips. you cried out so softly, your pretty voice echoing in the silence of your dormroom, while your back arched from the bed.

"love those pretty sounds you make for me, princess," he praised between licks and sucks.

his hands gripped your hips tightly to hold you still as he continued to worship your pussy. you felt one of them sliding up and underneath your singlet to cup one of your breaths. you panted when his fingers toyed with your perky little nipple, that hardened instantly beneath his touch.

"draco," you moaned, grinding your pussy against his face.

"so fucking desperate for your stepbrother, huh?" he teased, "you gonna cum on my face, baby?"

he switched his attention to your other nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers as he continued to eat you out. he lifted his eyes to look at you, his lips curling up into a predatory smile as his tongue flicked against your clit faster now, knowing that you were close.

"yeah," you muttered in response between needy whimpers.

you breathed out, your chest raising and falling rapidly as you felt your pussy clenching and pulsing around nothing; the coil in your belly tightened, announcing your upcoming orgasm.

"come for me, princess," he growled against your pussy before taking your clit into his mouth and sucking hard. you moaned, your hips jerking up as he worked to pull your orgasm from you.

letting out a cry of pleasure, you came on his face while your whole body trembled. you couldn't help but arch your back from the mattress as you gasped for air. the feeling was so good that your vision went blank for a second. when you finally came down from your high, he slowly pulled away.

"that's my good girl," he purred, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

he stood up and helped you remove the last of your clothes before starting to unbutton his own shirt. panting, you reached to unbuckle his belt eagerly while he got rid of his dress shirt. your skin was flushed and your body still flustered from your recent orgasm.

"so impatient," he chuckled, pulling his trousers and boxers down before climbing on top of you.

he grabbed his hard cock to press the tip against your slick pussy, rubbing it teasingly as he leaned down to capture your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. you moaned into the kiss, your hips bucking against him while he teased your clit with his cockhead.

"you want this cock, baby?" he asked, his voice a deep rumble against your lips as he continued to tease you. "want me to fuck you?"

"yes, please..." you answered, wrapping your legs around his hips to urge him.

with a smirk, he thrust forward, burying his cock deep inside you in one swift motion.

"fuck," he groaned, feeling your tight pussy clamp down around him. "you're so fucking tight."

your eyes rolled back at the feeling, his cock obviously too big for your tiny cunt, but somehow he managed to make it fit like he did the first time. he started to move, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm as he fucked you hard. you gasped out his name with each deep thrust, your nails digging into his back as you tried to get closer to him.

"you like that, huh?" he whispered, "you like your stepbrother's cock stretching your tight little pussy?"

your cunt tightened in response to his words, your face scrunching in pleasure while you nodded, unable to form any coherent sentence. your face was flushed as you heard the creaking from the bed and the filthy wet sounds of his skin slapping against yours.

"look at you, all fucked out on my cock," he growled lowly.

you truly were a sight for sore eyes; you looked so innocent, but at the same time you were taking his dick like a total slut, making him go bloody crazy. he grabbed your legs to pull them up so he could fuck you deeper. you cried out, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as he went balls deep.

"you're such a dirty little thing." his dirty talk was making you so wet that you were dripping onto your bedding.

"oh, draco," you moaned loudly

your hands reached to grasp at your own thighs as he pushed your legs onto your chest; the new angle had your toes curling and your legs shaking. he was holding onto your calves, gently kissing your ankles. his grey eyes glazed with lust as he continued to pound into you, hitting that spot inside you that had you squirming under him.

"fuck, feels so good," he groaned, his teeth nipping at his bottom lip.

you let out a breathy whimper as you clenched around his thick shaft, saying, "i'm so close."

"let go, princess," he commanded sweetly, "cum on my cock."

he gave you one last hard thrust, sending you over the edge. your orgasm crashed down on you and you cried out in pleasure, your body writhing beneath him as your cunt engulfed his dick harshly. his eyes fluttered closed when he felt you pulsing around him, his whole body shuddering while you milked his cock, making him cum inside you with a low groan.

"happy fucking birthday, baby."

fuck you if that hadn't been the happiest birthday of your entire life.

522 notes · View notes

hjparisian · 10 months

Text

you're losing me- theodore nott x reader

p: theodore nott x gn!reader w: kinda sad, angst summary: Theodore Nott and (Y/N) (L/N) have been close friends since they were kids. Realizing their feelings for each other, they pursue a relationship. Theodore begins to change and (Y/N) feels that they're losing him. a/n: i wanna apologize for how long it's taken for me to get this out, but i hope its still enjoyable. also do you guys like the summaries before the story? not sure if i should keep them or not

Theodore Nott and (Y/N) (L/N) have known each other since they were young. Being purebloods, they were put together with the other pureblood kids at parties. The first party they ever been to, the two clicked, deciding they were designated party buddies at these boring functions.

Aside from the Malfoy's, the (L/N)'s also threw numerous elegant parties. The (L/N)'s never cared for where the kids were as long as they were exhibiting proper sophisticated behavior when present. At one of the (L/N)'s parties, young (Y/N) dragged young Theodore to one of the many rooms in the manor, wanting to escape the adults. The room had rows of books from floor to ceiling, a fireplace, and big windows that brought in beautiful sunlight during the day.

From that day forward, that was (Y/N)'s and Theodore's room. (Y/N) would always bring Theodore to the room whenever he was over, whether it be during parties or the holidays, and Theodore would bring more books to add to the shelves. Sometimes they would invites some of their closet pureblood friends like Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, Blaise, and the Greengrass sisters, but to them, it was their room only.

Once the two began going to Hogwarts, they felt closer than ever, and the fact that they were both placed in Slytherin helped. If (Y/N) was in the library studying, Theodore was next to them helping. If Theodore was chilling in the common room with his mates, (Y/N) was sitting right next to him.

In fourth year, the Triwizard Tournament was taking place and the Yule Ball was announced. Everyone was scrambling to find someone to take. Theodore had only one person in mind though, (Y/N). He told them to meet him at the astronomy tower, where he stood there holding their favorite flowers, ready to pop the question.

"(Y/N) (L/N), will you make me the luckiest man alive by being my date to the Yule Ball?"

Much to his pleasure, (Y/N) said yes.

The day of the Yule Ball finally came and everyone was excited. Both (Y/N) and Theodore were nervous, not wanting to embarrass themselves in front of the other. The moment the two laid their eyes on each other, they didn't even notice the other people around them, all they saw was each other. Toward the end of the night, Theodore told (Y/N) his feelings, sparking a new relationship at Hogwarts.

Everything was going just fine, sure they may have small arguments, but Theodore and (Y/N) would always be able to patch things up. But things start to change in the sixth year. Theodore started to be more distant. He would either be late to breakfast or not show up at all. Everytime (Y/N) would ask if they could meet somewhere, Theodore would always reply with "Can't, I'm busy right now." This change was putting a strain on their relationship.

To everyone else, it seemed that Theodore and (Y/N) were fine, but in reality, there's an unknown battle going on. (Y/N) tried to appear happy in front of their friends, not wanting to worry them, but there was one person that could see through their facade. Pansy.

Every time Pansy would confront (Y/N) about this, (Y/N) would defend Theodore with their life.

"(Y/N), I can see things between you and Theo aren't okay."

"No! I mean, we're fine. Theo's just busy right now with school."

Pansy knew that they really cared for Theodore and don't want to face the facts that their relationship is starting to fall. But by doing so, (Y/N) is slowly bleeding out from the pain he is causing them.

Before winter break, (Y/N) was invited to Slughorn's Christmas Party. Those who were attending were encouraged to bring a date. They decided to take a chance and ask Theodore to be their date, not wanting to go with anyone else.

(Y/N) was able to find Theodore in the common room reading, and decided to take chance.

"Hey."

Theo looks up at them. "Hey."

"I was wondering, if you weren't busy, if you would be my date to Slughorn's Christmas Party?" There was a slight pause. "Blaise and Pansy are going. I think Daphne too."

(Y/N) looks at Theodore, slightly scared for his response. The man took a breathe before answering.

"Sure."

"Good." (Y/N) said. "It's on the 20th at 8 o'clock. Dress nice."

Theodore Nott said yes to going. So why was (Y/N) disappointed by his response? It's because his response wasn't what they were expecting. Theodore's responses were typically more energetic, telling them there was nothing else he'd rather do than spend time with them.

Was this the beginning of an end? Is (Y/N) starting to lose Theodore? Or is it the other way around? Will Theodore lose (Y/N) by pushing them away?

The night of Slughorn's Christmas Party was not an exciting one. (Y/N) was deciding if they should just ditch it and leave Theodore waiting for them, if he even bothered to show up. But of course, Theodore wouldn't ditch them nor would (Y/N), having been taught manners all their life by their parents.

The two met up in the common room, deciding they could walk together to Slughorn's office for the party. The walk was painfully silent, until (Y/N) decided to break it.

"So. How have you been?"

"Fine." Theodore responds. "You?"

"I've been alright. Mainly doing school work."

Theodore hums in response, ending the brief conversation.

Luckily, they had arrived at Slughorn's office. Theodore opened the door and as they walked in, it felt like they were transported somewhere else. It seemed as if the Potions professor really out did himself, with all the gold, crimson, and emerald hangings, it definitely did not feel like they were in his office.

(Y/N) spotted their Slytherin friends and dragged Theodore towards them. Pansy stood with Blaise, who was holding her waist while Daphne Greengrass was chatting it up with Adrian Pucey.

"Hey, Pansy!" (Y/N) called out.

Pansy turned towards the two Slytherins at the sound of her name. "(Y/N)! Theodore!" She ran to give (Y/N) a hug, Blaise joining her to give Theodore their so called 'bro hugs'.

"You look stunning," Pansy says.

"Aw thank you Pansy," said (Y/N). "You do too!"

"And what about your other favorite Slytherin? Don't I look hot?" Blaise asks with a sly grin.

"Ah Blaise," (Y/N) begins to say. "You look absolutely terrible." A small 'Hey!' leaves Blaise's month as he looks offend. "Joking, joking!"

A voice calls (Y/N)'s name. It was Professor Slughorn.

"Ah (Y/N)! I'm so glad you're here. Come with me, I've got a couple people who are want to meet the (L/N)'s heir!"

"Oh er, sure Professor," (Y/N) tells him as he begins to drag them away.

"Worry not dear (Y/N) you'll be back with your friends soon!"

As Slughorn was bringing (Y/N) to meet some of his friends and alumni, (Y/N)'s eyes looked at Theodore, who wasn't even aware or concerned about their temporary departure. In fact, he was more focused on the seemingly wonderful conversation he was having with Daphne Greengrass.

While being forced to talk with numerous people, thanks to Professor Slughorn, (Y/N) couldn't help but keep looking for Theodore, hoping he was looking for them but to their disappointment, he was staring still staring into the eyes of Daphne, smiling as she was talking. He hadn't looked at them like that in ages.

They had to talk to Theodore.

(Y/N) turned to the lady that was currently chatting with her. "My apologies, I must be heading now, if you could excuse me." They began walking towards their supposed lover and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hello Theodore, Daphne. I hope you don't mind if I talk to Theo about something, do you?" (Y/N) asks.

"Oh no, go ahead," Daphne tells them.

(Y/N) had already begun to drag Theodore outside the party, pulling him into an empty corridor. As soon as they stopped, Theodore yanks his hand out of (Y/N)'s grasp.

"What is it you want, (Y/N)?" Theodore asks. "Daphne and I were in the middle of a conversation."

"What I wanna know is what is up with you? Since the start of this year, you've practically been ignoring me! Everytime I've asked to do something, you always say you're busy!"

"That's because I am busy-"

"Doing what? Spending time with Daphne? Avoiding us?"

"(Y/N), no. It isn't-"

"It isn't what, Theodore? I see the way you look at Daphne. It's how you used to look at me."

At this point, (Y/N) was struggling to hold their tears back, releasing all the anger, frustration and pain they've been holding in.

"This whole time I've been pretending everything was fine, but in reality I was waiting for you to do something to save us. To show that you still love me."

"(Y/N) I still love you."

"If you still did, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Theodore took a deep breath, obviously starting to get frustrated.

"Listen (Y/N), let's just go back to the party and talk about this later." Theo tells them.

"Oh? So you can avoid this whole conversation and me the rest of the night? To spend your night with someone else?"

"Honestly (Y/N), you're over exaggerating," Theodore scoffs. He turns and starts walking away from them.

"And where are you going?"

"Away. I think we need space right now. I'll see you after break."

Theodore leaves (Y/N) alone in the corridor. All (Y/N) could do was sob, feeling heartbroken. The next day, they took the next train and returned to the (L/N)'s manor.

"How has school been? Are you passing all your classes?" (Y/N)'s mother asked during lunch.

(Y/N) swallowed the piece of food in their mouth before responding. "It's been alright. I'm doing well in all my classes. I have O's and E's."

"And how are your friends?" (Y/N)'s father chimes in. "Oh and Nott's boy! How could I forget? How is he?"

"Oh Theodore! That boy is so sweet." (Y/N)'s mother said.

Of course they'd have to bring up Theodore. "Everyone's doing alright. We're just all busy with classes and preparing for NEWTs next year." said (Y/N), trying to avoid the topic of the Slytherin boy.

"You know," their mother begins. "I wouldn't mind if you and Theodore got married once you graduate from Hogwarts."

If (Y/N) had anything in their mouth, they would've done a spit take.

(Y/N)'s father agreed. "I think it would be wonderful! Uniting the Nott and (L/N) families."

(Y/N) didn't want to let their parents know what happened between the two. It would only cause more harm and could ruin any business going on between the two families. Besides, who'd want to marry the insecure heir of the (L/N)?

Not wanting to discuss this anymore (as well as losing their appetite), (Y/N) handing their plate to the families house elf before standing up.

"If you'll excuse me, I would like to do a bit of studying."

(Y/N) began walking straight to their room, until a specific set of doors caught their eye. They decide to take a detour and enter it. It was the room where Theodore and (Y/N) would spend their times hiding from the adults at the elegant pureblooded parties.

It looked about the same since they were last in it near the beginning of summer. Shelves of books filled from floor to ceiling, the fireplace was out, books strewn about on tables, and their most favorite part of this room, the large windows that shined sunlight on them. It was one of the major things that Theodore and (Y/N) liked about this room.

On one of the tables was a handkerchief with the initials T.N. embroidered on it. It was Theodore's.

One summer afternoon, (Y/N) and Theodore sat across from each other reading. Theodore heard small sniffs and looked up to see (Y/N) with tears welled up in their eyes.

"(Y/N) are you alright?" He asked them, concerned for their wellbeing.

(Y/N) looked up at him. "Oh, yes, sorry. I just got to a really emotional part in my book, but I'm alright."

Theodore put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a white cloth with the letters T.N. on it in gold.

"Here, (Y/N)," Theodore says as he hands it to them. "So you can wipe the tears. I hate to see you cry."

(Y/N) immediately takes the handkerchief and dabs the tears away. "Thank you so much Theo."

The boy gave them a smile. "Anything for you (Y/N)."

All (Y/N) could do was cry at the memory. The Theodore that they once loved, was practically gone. The love they had for each other has faded. They could no longer find the pulse leading to their love.

All that remain was the room that Theodore and (Y/N) had loved because of the light.

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theo nott x y/n #theo nott imagine

1K notes · View notes

lilliumrorum · 3 months

Text

What does he have that I don't? (Part Two)

<<Previous | Masterlist | Next>>

Synopsis: After getting comfortable in your captain's dwelling, you experience a dream involving him, intensifying your desire for the man.

WC: 3k

Content/Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Soft Price, fluff, Cheating, kind of pining?, Wet dreams, Masturbation.

Notes: Sorry this took so long to post, I've had lots of fucking issues with tumblr and I am proper pissed off. Exams have been kicking my ass too, but I'll make sure to write an extra long chapter next time!

In this situation, unlike others, you wouldn't yearn for Simon's touch. The absence of affection from him for months has built a resistance to missing that once addictive sensation. Tears welled up once more as you reflected on the abuse endured just to cling to the shattered fragments of your 'relationship'. Desiring a different reality, you found yourself in a challenging situation, torn between lingering feelings for your lost love and developing admiration for your captain.

Concluding the scorching shower, the realization struck that a towel was forgotten. Cheeks burning with embarrassment, you pondered how such a simple thing could be overlooked. An uneasy hope lingered that the captain remained undisturbed in his slumber, as a preemptive guilt surfaced. The idea of waking him up intensified that internal conflict, leaving you in a contemplative state after the steam had dissipated. Standing there, damp and hesitant, you grappled with the consequences of a neglected towel and the possibility of disrupting your captain's peace.

Your hand unlocked the door, cracking it open just a bit.

"John?"

"Mm?" His deep voice echoed from the couch.

You felt a sense of relief upon realizing he wasn't in bed yet.

"I… may have forgotten to grab a towel," you admitted with a nervous tone.

You heard his soft footsteps moving down the hall and passing by the bathroom. As soon they approached the room you made sure to narrow the crack of the open door, ensuring you wouldn't accidentally flash him. A sturdy silhouette stood behind it, holding a towel. Cautiously peeking around, you gently retrieve it from his grasp.

He stared at you for a moment, gazing at your damp hair and shoulders before seemingly snapping out of it.

"Don't make my floor too wet, Sergeant." He said with a breath before trekking back to the couch.

You slowly closed the door, releasing a heavy breath you didn't realize you were holding. It felt as if butterflies had been swirling around in your stomach, cheeks burning like fire as you tried to comprehend what had just happened. The butterflies were nothing novel; in fact, they were a constant presence. Every time you worked near him your heart fluttered.

The salt-and-pepper mustache that quirked up when he smiled made your heart do flips. His hands, aged yet firm, with thick fingers calloused from years of service made you fantasize about what they would feel like inside you. The quick waves you received when he walked past you, his combat pants fitting him just right made for an easy distraction. Doing paperwork with him late at night presented itself a challenge. Your brain was constantly fuzzy whenever you looked at him.

At this point, you couldn't distinguish whether it was him making you shudder or your own nakedness. The stark contrast in temperature from your shower to the chilling air heightened your eagerness to get dressed. The towel rubbing against your skin brought a soothing sensation to your mind, interrupting your thoughts about him.

"You did so good f'me, lovie. Such a good fucking girl." He praised, slowly pulling out of your fluttering cunt.

You whimpered at the feeling of being empty after being stuffed full for so long.

"I love you, Simon." you whispered breathlessly.

He gazed at you, searching your eyes for some sort of hidden plan, or trickery. He found nothing but adoration.

"I love you too." He whispered as he got up, searching for the towel he had placed somewhere, you reached out and gently wrapped your hand around as much of his toned arm as you could before he moved too far.

He glanced at you, his expression filled with curiosity.

"Si, can you promise me something?"

"What is it doll?"

"Don't leave me."

"What kinda promise is that? I'm never gonna leave you. Hell, I'm stuck on you."

You smiled at his words.

But he broke that promise. He left you, a ghost in his place.

"Captain, is it alright if I get dressed in the bedroom?" You uttered your words with a delicate tone as you stepped out into the hall.

His head shifted in the direction of your voice, his attention lingering on your legs briefly before his gaze ascended to meet your face. He stared at you for what seemed like an eternity. Your posture started to shift as nervousness crept in, especially with his eyes on your barely covered body. He seemed to take notice, offering a smile before he spoke.

"Of course dove, that's where you're sleeping anyway." He spoke with a tone that held weariness.

"Oh no you don't ha-" as soon as you spoke you were interrupted.

"I said that's where you're sleepin' and that's that. Don't argue with me, sergeant." He commanded.

You raised your hands in the air, signaling surrender, before letting out a laugh and walking back to his bedroom.

The scent of everything was reminiscent of him, when you opened his closet, the aroma of cinnamon and pine struck you instantly. You breathed in his scent and felt a bit more at ease. Why did everything about him have to evoke such a strong sense of comfort and familiarity?

If you didn't move past this childlike crush soon, you'd end up with more issues than you're already grappling with. He could be your father for Christ's sake!

You shook your head, as if the thought would dissipate, while grabbing some pajama shorts and a tank top. The clothes were rather revealing, but John would surely understand if he saw them. Your intention was to return home to Simon, not to him. When you left, there was no time to retrieve your clothes, as you aimed to escape the situation as smoothly as possible.

Your body ached for sleep, going without it for what seemed like ages.

Turning the light off and slipping into bed, a subtle shift occurred in your thoughts, and the image of John began to weave its way into your consciousness like a gentle melody. In the calm moments preceding sleep, his laughter echoed, and the warmth of his gaze painted the canvas of your contemplations. The memory of John intertwined seamlessly with the comforting embrace of his sheets, creating a space where the lines between reality and the fanciful dance of imagination became hazy. With each closing of your eyes, dreams unfolded, casting John as the silent protagonist in the tales that quietly unfolded in the realm of your weary mind.

In the silent corners of your thoughts, dreams took shape, painting a picture where you were romantically involved with John. Scenes of stolen glances and hidden meetings unfolded, with the forbidden nature of it all adding an exhilarating edge to the fantasy. In these vivid dreams, shared moments created a connection that surpassed the ordinary reality surrounding you. However, these fantasies were kept as a personal refuge—a brief escape within the private chambers of your mind, where the blurred lines of possibility flirted with the edges of longing.

"Tell me what you want, dove. What do you need from me?" he breathed in a solaced whisper.

His rugged hands worked at your body, roaming across your naked form as you tried your hardest to utter a word, mumbling nonsense. He hadn't taken your panties off yet, the cloth becoming more and more wet by the second.

"Words, sweetheart. I need to know what you want from me." His fingers teasing your clit in soft, circular motions.

"John- Oh shit! I need them inside! Please!" You practically sobbed.

Everything in this moment completed you. His waist was stationed between your legs as he continued his ministrations on your cunt. At this point you were a whining mess for him. You were too distracted with your pleasure to realize he had pulled your panties to the side, thick fingers lined up with your sopping hole.

"God, you're perfect."

The captain's eyes snapped open upon hearing sounds emanating from the bedroom. Initially thinking it might be crying, he knocked on the door once.

With no response, he opened the door to investigate, finding you helplessly whimpering and pressing your thighs together in your sleep.

He was well Aware that intruding was not right, but he lingered a little longer, drawn by the sweet serenade of your voice. Going back to bed at this moment seemed impossible for him. His cock straining against his pants as discomfort grew, urging him to address it promptly.

He treaded back to the couch, every step carrying an enduring strain to his crotch. Fuck, those noises were driving him wild.

He knows it's not right, yet he pulled out his erection anyway. He needed relief, blood rushing to the tip as it sprung out of his pants. His arousal was yearning for a momentary reprieve.

He groaned as he started fisting his cock, guttural groans coming from his chest as he chased his release. His eyes fluttered closed, Imagining you spread out for him, begging for whatever he could give you. Your pretty body writhing underneath him while you worked in sync to reach that peak. Nails scratching at his back with each forceful thrust of his hips. He tried to stay as silent as he could, listening to the melody of your sounds. He tried to savor your sounds, prolonging his orgasm to the best of his ability. He couldn't hold it any longer, somewhat embarrassed at how fast he was going to finish.

The familiar feeling of his climax began to reach him, his lower abdomen flexing harshly with each stroke.

"Fuck"

His sticky cum flowed over him fingers as it spilled out from his twitching tip.

This was wrong, but god did it feel so fucking right.

Throughout the night, Simon couldn't shake the image of your shocked and saddened expression from his thoughts. All he longed for was to have you back with him at home. Who the fuck were you with anyway?

As the minutes stretched into hours, Simon's chest tightened with an unsettling jealousy. The anticipation of your return became a weighty burden, and the quiet emptiness of the house echoed his longing. He had watched you leave, hope clinging to the belief that you would soon walk back through the door. However, as the night wore on and you failed to return, that hope transformed into a bitter ache. Each passing moment fueled the jealousy that churned within him, a mix of fear and insecurity. The empty house seemed to mock his unspoken yearning, amplifying the silence that enveloped him in a suffocating embrace.

The air hung heavy with tension when Johnny left the house, the weight of your discovery lingering in the strained atmosphere. The revelation of the affair had cast a pall over the once-shared space, leaving behind a palpable sense of betrayal. The door closed with a hollow finality, echoing the rupture in trust that now defined the relationship. He laid there in your empty bed, the aftermath of your revelation settling like dust in the room, and the emptiness of the departing footsteps mirrored the void that now consumed the once-shared moments with Johnny. The silence that followed was deafening, amplifying your absence.

When you left he was still pent up with arousal, so him and Johnny went a couple rounds, but he soon had to leave to get enough rest before the sun rose. With both of you no longer present, he truly began to realize he was alone.

Jealousy gnawed at Simon as he grappled with the unsettling uncertainty of your whereabouts. Each passing moment fueled his imagination, and he found himself consumed by thoughts of who you might be staying with. The unanswered questions echoed in his mind, creating a symphony of doubt and insecurity. The image of someone else occupying the space meant for him sparked a surge of possessiveness, leaving him yearning for the reassurance that you were still his. The silent house became a canvas for his anxious thoughts, and the suspense of not knowing intensified the monster within him, clouding his emotions with a turbulent mix of suspicion and anger.

Just who the fuck did you think you were, leaving like that?

He felt his jaw clench, thinking of you with someone other than him.

Every thought of someone else near you ignited a primal instinct to claim and protect what he considered his own. The mere idea of sharing your presence with another set off a storm of dominance, intensifying his need to assert his presence in your life. It was as if an invisible tether bound him to you, and the thought of anyone encroaching upon that connection stirred a fierce determination to safeguard what he considered rightfully his.

Sleep eluded him, elusive as his thoughts were ensnared in a web of restlessness. The weight of emotions, a mix of envy, dominance, and yearning, kept him tossing and turning in the dim silence of his bedroom. The shadows on the walls seemed to dance to the rhythm of his unsettled mind, casting a surreal atmosphere that mirrored the turmoil within. The bed, usually a sanctuary, became a battleground for his inner struggles. The clock's ticking echoed like a constant reminder of the sleep he desperately sought but remained just out of reach. The night stretched on, a canvas painted with the shades of his unquiet thoughts, as he wrestled with the myriad emotions that held him captive in the wake of the events that unfolded.

Awakening to the robust aroma of tea wafting into your nose, you stretched out your well-rested limbs before swinging your legs over the side of the captain's bed. The lingering remnants of the dream from the night before clouded your thoughts, creating a palpable tension in the air. As you pondered how to navigate the interaction with him, uncertainty hung like a veil. The simple act of rising from the bed felt like stepping onto uncharted territory, and the fragrant tea served as a reminder of the shared space that had witnessed the intimate contours of your dreams. The challenge ahead lay in reconciling the vivid images of the night with the reality of the morning, as you grappled with the aftermath of the subconscious journey that now lingered between you and the captain.

You approached the bedroom door, turning the handle and stepping into the hallway that led to the kitchen. The journey down the corridor felt like a deliberate exploration, each step carrying a subtle anticipation. As you entered the kitchen, a captivating sight awaited you – the captain, turned away, engrossed in some task involving the kettle. The play of muscles beneath his skin was a spectacle, every inch defined and visible, yet soft. His silhouette painted a picture of strength and concentration, a moment frozen in time that captured the essence of his physicality. The air in the kitchen seemed charged with an energy that transcended the simple act of making tea, as you silently observed, feeling both a sense of intimacy and a respectful distance in the presence of this private moment.

"Good morning, Sergeant. thought I'd get some tea ready for ya."

You listened intently, and there was a warmth in the captain's voice as he completed the tea-making ritual. Even though you couldn't see his face, the audible smile in his words painted a vivid picture. The sound carried a gentle resonance, echoing the pleasure he took in the simple act of preparing tea. It was a melody of contentment, and the timbre of his voice conveyed a subtle joy that surpassed the mundane task. As you stood there, the audible smile became a shared moment in the quiet kitchen, a connection forged through the familiar sounds of morning rituals and the understanding that lingered between you and the captain.

"Thank you, Captain. For all of this. I owe you one."

The dual impact of your words and the vivid recollection combined to color his complexion with a subtle embarrassment. It was as if the mere mention of his title held a key to unlock a realm of thoughts he hadn't anticipated sharing. The involuntary flush revealed a vulnerability, a momentary glimpse into a private mental landscape stirred by arousal that lingered beyond the confines of last night. In that fleeting blush, a complex interplay of emotions unfolded, creating a connection between now and what he had done last night that had left its mark on the captain's waking thoughts.

"You owe me nothin', dove. Hush up and drink your tea." He uttered, handing you a partially hot cup of the chamomile beverage.

"Anything planned for today?" You asked while softly blowing on your tea.

"PT, but It's going to be different today, so don't you worry about lieutenant."

His words had the exact opposite effect on you. You were most definitely worrying about Simon.

Taglist: @ttsbaby01 @waves-against-a-cliff @konigslittleliebling @imjustheretofightforlove @beebeechaos @mikimumiki @splaterparty0-0

#cod mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #simon ghost riley #soapghost #ghost angst #ghost x reader #john price #john price x reader #john price smut #ghost smut #ghoap x reader #john price fluff

455 notes · View notes

gamarancianne · 3 months

Note

Hi, how are you? I had an idea and I wanted to ask you if you could do an angst with Azriel x reader in which she is friends with Elain and has been in love with Az for some time, but has never told him because they hardly have any contact apart from the Valkyries and Elain's training. Then they get a little closer and she decides to tell Elain all about her feelings for Azriel and pushes the reader to confess her feelings and that's exactly what she does, but Azriel's reaction isn't the most pleasant and he lets out a "How can you fall in love with someone you hardly know? Only fools are like that. So she is devastated and disappears for a few days, until she returns and catches Azriel and Elain in a very intimate moment in the bedroom and realizes that they were already together even before she confessed her feelings to him and they end up drifting apart. So the reader begins to do everything she can to forget Az and concentrate on herself and, in the meantime, becomes friends with Lucien, to the point of braiding each other's hair. After a while, they break up and Az starts to notice the reader, but she's looser than ever and doesn't care much about him. And he chases after her a lot and in the meantime an obscenity occurs to her so that she ends up saying it was just a one-night stand. And the ending is up to you :)

Azriel x reader - In Between part 1

Part 2

Okay first of all thank you so much for this ask it is my first so its precious to me !! And I am really fine and you ?? I love the plotline and I am sucker for angst, especially with our little azzy so it's perfect !!

Warnings : angst, smut allusions, heartbreak, mean Az, mean Elain

Summary : You are in love with Azriel, but you don't know him, that's what he said when you confessed. Heartbroken yes, but you surely didn't think that he would end up being with your dear friend Elain.

Note : well this has gotten longer than I thought so it will part 2 and I am already working on it don't worry. Also I didn't know if Elain knew that it was Az or not so I improvised. I hope it fits your standards and you can all tell me what you think about it in the comments. And I am again sorry for my English 😭💗

There he was, in all his glory, sweaty from his fight with Cassian, his shadows swirling around him and you had never been more attracted to someone.

Elain had finally convinced you to join her at training and you instantly regretted, looking at how hard the Valkyries were training but mostly feeling your cheeks heaten up at the sight of him. Of his naked torso full of black ink and fight scars. 'Gods, cauldron boil me why did I accept this' you thought. But Elain was quick enough to shove the thought away when she brought you to introduce you to her family. You had already seen them many times when you had picked her up after training for a walk or a tea party, thing that you both enjoyed a lot, but it was never a proper meeting like this one.

"Hey guys !" She exclaimed, full of joy "This is yn, a friend of mine and she's coming to training for the first time so I hope you are all gonna be nice to her. Especially you Az, don't scare her away" she chuckled looking a the main concerned. After quick presentations, she made sure you were okay and went with her sister, Cassian and the Valkyries for their already known exercises while you stayed there, blush creeping up to your face and ears, with Azriel. Because, with your luck, he was the one to train you today to show you the basic exercises in order to not hurt you during the first day.

"Follow me" Azriel ordered and you obeyed, walking to a smaller ring. He showed you some stretches before starting to teach you many combat basics. It was awkward, for both of you. Every time Azriel came behind you to correct your position, you would blush extremely hard and shiver at his touch. And you could tell he noticed it by the way he straightened and did everything to avoid this kind of situation. To ease the tension between us, you engaged the conversation. "they're really beautiful" you said pointing with your head the blue gems on his arms and torso now dressed with his leathers.

"Oh thanks..." he only responded. Elain did already tell you that he was a silent one but you didn't expect him to be that silent to be honest. But you were stubborn so you continued. "And.. where did you buy them ? I think it could be a nice present for my brother for next solstice". And then he froze, stared at you dead in the eye and laughed at your face. Despite the facts that you didn't understand and that you were even more embarrassed you couldn't stop yourself from enjoying the most beautiful sound you had ever heard. His beautiful laugh was clear and ran to the deepest parts of your soul.

"Wh-what is so funny about what I said?"

"They're siphons, I earned them by being a Carynthian, because I am an Illyrian soldier, you cannot buy them !" He bursted out of laughter a second time.

"Oh mother above, I am so sorry if I offended you by saying that, I don't know anything about Illyrians I am sorry. Really" you stuttered, feeling even more ridiculous than before.

He reassured you about it. You had made a fool of yourself but the air was lighter and the training went on with a more smiling and nice Azriel, with whom you had joked, laughed and exchanged soft innocent touches, until it was over. The bubble in which you and Az had been, exploded when Elain came checking on you two.

"How did it go ?" She asked excited.

"Really well" you answered quite proud of you.

Azriel nodded, and you felt his eyes linger on you when you left with your friend.

You came back the day after, and the day after and after... until it became a routine to train and laugh with Az very morning. Now you were also training with Elain and Nesta because of your quick improvements. But one thing was certain, you had fallen completely and utterly in love with Azriel. You didn't know what to do because he was always staring at you from afar when you were coming or leaving but you two never really talked about your life or anything.

While stretching with Elain, she asked about your love life and you decided that you would ask her opinion.

"Speaking of that, I need you to be brutally honest with me El' "

"What are you seeing someone ? Why didn't you tell me ?" She exclaimed.

"No I am not, don't worry I would've told you" she relaxed. "But you know there is this guy that I see almost everyday and I think we get along well. I feel like he is looking at me sometimes but we never really talk to eachother, like about our lives or anything. It's odd, but I really like him and I don't know what to do."

She smiled at your scrunched eyebrows and responded more calmly: "Follow you heart dear, you are so much beautiful and kind, there is no sane male in all Prythian who could resist you. Besides who is this man ? Isn't it the brown hair guy at the coffee shop you work at ? Because if it is he totally has a crush on you!"

"Haha no I won't tell you but thanks for the advice though, you are clearly the best! I love you Elain!"

"Me too yn, a lot. But now go get your lover before I kick you out myself for you to do it! Fly you fool!" She pushed you out the ring while you were laughing with her and you ran as fast as you could to get to the source of your desire, Azriel. He was almost shooting in the sky when you screamed his name. He turned around to see your exhausted figure running toward him.

"Hey are you okay ? What's going on ?"

"I'm fine thank you Az but I got something to tell you if you don't mind"

"Of course not go on", he responded almost too quickly and straightened hearing his nickname coming from your mouth. You always called him Azriel but never Az or Azzy. Never.

"Well, I meant to tell you for a while but I hadn't enough courage so here am I... I love you" you spoke in one breath your head down and your eyes shut.

You waited for an answer and waited again until you were almost shaking with fear and looked back at Azriel's face. What you saw made your eyes well up with tears. He was shocked, in a bad way, even disgusted at your confession.

"You don't want that yn" he finally answered.

"What ?" You asked your voice breaking.

"How can you fall in love with someone you hardly knows ? Only fools are like that". And with that he flew away, leaving you a crying mess on the floor of training.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Your body and heart were sore. You had been crying for hours. After training, well, more after your mean rejection by the love of your life, you had run away to your apartment and cried without stopping, you sometimes just changed the place: your bed, the couch, even the floor. You felt broken, of course, but above all ashamed at your actions. Your bad thoughts were flooding in your head without stopping. Your anxiety, insecurity and doubts about yourself surfaced once again: he was right, how could you have fallen in love with him without even knowing him ? And then you cried again, this time at your window looking at the stars above you. Two of them were shining more than the others and you just hoped that one day the mother would give you a male, capable of loving you back so that you could both be like those stars, shining together amongst others.

It had been a few days now, and the same routine happened again everyday. You would wake up, your eyes sore from crying not remembering anything, and you would recall your conversation with Azriel and start crying again all day, only eating ice cream or cookies. Elain had sent you many notes, asking what was happening to you and why you weren't at training. You still hadn't answered yet but, today, you decided that it was time for you to get up your feet and not cry about that lame excuse of a male anymore. You dressed up and went to Elain's apartment near the Sidra.

When you arrived, the door was already open, but when you called her, she didn't answer. The worst scenarios already came to your mind and you entered in her home, scared for her. You stopped in your tracks when you heard noises coming from her bedroom. It was voices, her and Azriel's voices. You didn't want to do anything involving Azriel so you walked back to the door but froze when you heard your name. You didn't want to be nosy, but you heard your name, so it was fair to listen right? You approached slowly and silently her bedroom in which you two had have countless sleepless girls nights, and listened to their conversation.

"What ? You are the one she confessed to ?" Elain then bursted out of laughter and you felt another knife stabbing your heart. Your dear friend, who encouraged you to confess the deepest parts of your heart was mocking you in front of your said love interest. But you weren't supposed to be there, so it was your fault. You deserved it for making a fool of yourself. That's what your thoughts were screaming at you in your head.

"Yeah, but stop it now, I don't wanna talk about another woman right now" Azriel said, his voice low.

You had enough now but still decided to take a look inside yhe room and instantly regretted when you saw them together, naked from their previous activities, tangled in the sheets, now making out with eachother. Your heart already broken in a million pieces, broke again when he said those words you will remember for life "Anyway you know I only love you Elain".

You ran as fast as you could, bumping in the table, and making a big noise in the living room but you couldn't care one bit. You just had to leave the damn place. Tears were streaming down your face knowing your face, and you didn't even noticed it, only focused on the worst pain you had ever felt. The pain of your heart: of a love and a friendship broken. It was too much, too much in just a short amount of time.

And then everything hit you : Azriel had never looked nor stared at you, he was looking at Elain all this time when you were both arriving at training. He was never interested in you, it was always Elain. How could you have been so stupid and think different : the first time you two had ever talked, you had made a fool of yourself and he was only nice to you because you were Elain's friend. For the past month, in need of affection, you had lived in complete delusion of a love that never existed.

#acotar #acotar x you #acotar x reader #azriel #azriel x reader #elain archeron #elain acotar #azriel acotar #azriel x you #azriel x yn #acotar x y/n #writing #nesta archeron #cassian

394 notes · View notes

rollinouttahere-writes · 5 months

Note

platonic yandere Crocodile ad daughter reader

As you can see from the word count, I got extremely carried away. Hope you enjoy it!

Was It Worth It?

Yandere Sir Crocodile x Daughter Reader

7.5k words

Most would say that you’re spoiled.

Honestly, you can’t argue against it.

Your father was committed to giving you the best of the best in life and made no exceptions. As far as he was concerned, you were the only person in the world that was worthy of luxury and relaxation. And given that your father was renowned warlord Sir Crocodile, giving you such a lifestyle was an easy feat.

Designer clothes and accessories filled your closet and fluctuated as styles evolved, all of your meals were expertly crafted by either a personal chef or the staff of a high end restaurant, and you had everything you could ever need for your hobbies. You even had your own pet bananawani, Lady Camorra, though she was still just a baby. Despite that, she was already the size of the lengthy dining room table and had to stay with the other bananawani in the basement.

All of this was accepted eagerly. What can you say? You’re a daddy’s girl.

The only responsibilities you had was to your dear pet and your studies, something that your dad was adamant about. Becoming a pirate like he did is distinctly not an option for you, that much has been made clear. What options you did have for your future were still very much a mystery to you, it was hard to believe that he would ever let you go out and get a job.

You couldn’t even go outside by yourself.

Not that it bothered you all that much. Despite the restrictions, you made outings with your dad (and typically his most recent assistant, Robin) frequently. He was a major public figure here in Alabasta and made many appearances for the sake of his reputation. Naturally, you would be brought along as well.

Most of the time, these were casual trips to go out to a nice restaurant or shopping. The only people that would be there at the same time as you would be the staff. You honestly wished there would be more people around, but when you voiced this, Crocodile would simply state that it was for safety and leave it at that. Which did make sense, you suppose. You weren’t so sheltered as to not be aware that your father has many enemies.

You were grateful for how pleasant your life has been and appreciated how hard Crocodile worked to provide it to you. Which is why you wanted to get him a gift for his birthday next week.

The most you’ve been able to do in the past is make him a card and some simple craft project you worked on. As much as you’ve wanted to get him a more proper present, you didn’t exactly have the means to do so. That, and he kept insisting that he doesn’t need you to get him anything. Usually he would say something cheesy along the lines of ‘your being here is gift enough’.

This year was going to be different, though. It took a great deal of planning, but you’re finally going to be able to surprise your dad with a real present this time! It took months of saving, but you’re pretty sure you’ve scraped together enough to buy him a new ring from a local jewelry store. It would probably surprise many to know that you don’t receive much for an allowance. It made sense though. Crocodile buys you everything you could ever need or want. The allowance was just some pocket change for you to go buy snacks from the casino you lived above.

Today was the day. Everything was going perfectly. You’d woken up early to get your studies done ahead of time. If you didn’t have everything finished, your personal bodyguards weren’t permitted to escort you down to get a treat. The timing of finishing early was crucial because Crocodile was due to make a public appearance at a neighboring city today, but it was only a brief one so you needed to make your excursion quick.

The biggest hurdle ahead of you was being able to ditch your guards and slip out of the casino unnoticed, but you had a plan. Once you got downstairs, you would go to the bathroom, put on your desert cape and a scarf to cover your face, and make a run for it. It’s far from being fool-proof, but it’s your best shot. Your guards aren’t allowed to take you out of the building, and you know no amount of begging will sway them. Though you do hope they won’t get fired over this, that would make you feel terrible.

All that you could do in this moment was try to get through your schoolwork as quickly as possible. Ideally, you wanted to leave shortly after Crocodile did since your window of time to do this wasn’t long. Three hours at most, based on how long these types of appearances usually take.

The door to your private study is opened, and you don’t need to look over your shoulder to know who it is. Heavy but precise footsteps come up behind you, and a large hand rests on the back of your chair.

“I’m going to be heading out now, do you need anything before I leave?”

As per usual, your dad’s main concern was you, feeling the need to ask the question despite knowing full well that you would absolutely be fine until he came back.

You giggled at the inquiry, “I think I’ll be okay for a couple hours, dad.”

Crocodile loomed over your desk, checking up on what you’re actively working on. His eyes narrowed as he read over your shoulder, “You’re typically still working on mathematics at this hour, why are you doing your history lesson already? You didn’t skip subjects, did you?”

Internally, you cursed at how observant your dad was. Of course he would notice this! The grip you had on the history book tightened as you scrambled to explain yourself, “Oh, um… No, I woke up early today and decided to just go ahead and get my schooling done.” You looked up at him and plastered on the most sweet and innocent smile you could, praying that he would buy it.

Crocodile’s eyebrows raised slightly, but the rest of his face remained neutral. Teeth ground against the cigar in his mouth as he considered your words. After a moment, he switched his focus to the books on your desk. Without responding to you, he brought one of them over to himself and began flipping through it, and then proceeded to do the same with a few more books.

He nodded, seemingly content with what he found, “Good work, that was very responsible of you.” His one hand gently pet your hair and he offered a small but genuine smile. “How about we get dinner at that one restaurant you really like tonight?”

Your eyes lit up and you bounced in your seat, “The one that has the really good ice cream?!”

“Of course you’re already thinking about dessert.” Crocodile chuckled, “But yes, that one.”

Lurching out of your chair, you wrap your arms around his torso and squeeze him into a tight hug. One that he returns gently while lightly laughing at your enthusiasm, “I’ll assume this is your way of saying that you would like to go.”

“Oh, yes! Please!”

“Very well, I’ll make the reservation now.” By that, he means he’s going to call and tell them to have the place cleared out before you two get there. “I have to leave now, be good and finish your studies.” With that, he exited the room and you could faintly register the sound of the front door opening and closing.

You resumed your work, eager to finish your final subject so you could get on with your plan. You bit your lip as you mulled over your newfound dilemma. Crocodile probably won’t take you out for dinner if you sneak out for a bit, even if it is for a good reason.

Maybe you could do this without being caught? If you really hurried and were successful at sneaking back into the casino, you might be able to gaslight your guards into thinking that they simply didn’t see you leave the bathroom. It would only be natural for you to keep walking and assume they were following you. They would likely be too embarrassed to bring this situation up to your father. Yeah, that should work. Hopefully.

With a newfound sense of determination, you complete your studies.

Gleefully, you scurry back to your bedroom to grab your purse. Your dessert cloak and scarf were already compactly folded and stuffed inside. You just needed one more thing and you would be ready to set your plan into action.

Unfortunately, there was no way for you to ask about your dad’s ring size without raising suspicion, so you would need to borrow one to bring with you. This wasn’t a problem, however. You frequently help him pick out which rings to wear in the morning, so you know exactly where to find them and what the combination to the safe is.

It was crucial that you didn’t leave a single clue that you’d been in his room while he was gone, so you were careful not to disturb anything besides the safe. Airing on the side of caution, you even take note of the exact position the knob is in so you can keep that minute detail the same. It would hardly be shocking for Crocodile to notice something like that.

After the safe door is open, you pull out the first ring you see, not wanting to disturb any of the other rings in here. It’s a sturdy golden ring with small but dazzling rubies decorating the band. He wore this one on his index finger somewhat regularly.

You slip the ring into your purse and spin on your heels, eager to leave so you can get on with your mission.

Making a conscious effort to keep your face neutral so as to not allude to being up to something, you open the front door and greet the two guards stationed outside of it, “Hi! I wanna go downstairs to that cute bakery in the lobby!”

One of the guards, an absolutely massive man named Abasi, regards you lightly, “We can’t do that until you’ve finished your schooling, you know that.” His voice was naturally gruff, but he spoke to you politely. His head was shaved clean minus the well maintained goatee he sported.

Summoning your best acting skills, you pout dramatically, “I am done, though! I woke up early and already did all of it.”

Tabia, a lean but distinctly tall woman with a scar running down the side of her face and parts of her neck eyed you warily, “Really, now? Then you won’t mind if I confirm that, yes?”

“Not at all!” You chirped happily, gesturing for her to come in and do just that. Continuing to stand in the entryway, you do your best to look as sweet and innocent as possible while Abasi continues blocking your way.

It doesn’t take long for Tabia to return, giving Abasi a silent nod to verify that your story was true. He nods back and finally steps out of the way, “Apologies for the inconvenience, Lady (Y/N).”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” you hurried past him so you could lead the way, but also avoid them possibly seeing something in your facial expression that could give you away. Now that you’d gotten the ball rolling, anxiety was starting to bubble in your stomach at all the ways this could go wrong.

All three of you enter an elevator at the end of the hall to bring you down to the lobby. The bodyguards are standing between you and the door, both with their backs to you as the lift begins its slow descent.

It’s quiet for a moment, but Tabia breaks the silence, “I’m surprised you wanted to do this, you haven’t requested to visit the lobby in months.”

Briefly, you wince at the observation. You suppose this fact would be suspicious in its own right. You’re quick to throw out an excuse and pray it sounds believable, “Haha, yeah. I guess I just got kinda burnt out with everything down there, but I’m really craving some baklava right now.”

“Makes sense,” was the only reply you got. You have to suppress the sigh of relief from them accepting the answer. This is going well so far, you can only hope that remains the case.

The elevator slows to a stop with a quiet ding and the doors slide open. Both guards step out first and scrutinize the surroundings before motioning that it’s okay to come out. Now that you’re where all the other people are, Abasi and Tabia station themselves on either side of you.

This was it, time to really get things started, “I have to go to the bathroom.”

Tabia’s eye, the one with the scar over it, twitched ever so slightly, “Can you not wait until you’re back in the safety of your home?”

You pressed your legs together and bounced slightly, “No, I really need to go. Like, now.”

She exhaled sharply, but changed course for the nearest public restroom, “Very well, we’ll wait outside for you.”

“Thank you!” You rushed past them and into the bathroom to maintain the fake urgency you’d just created. Of course, you didn’t actually have to go. Frantically, you run into an unoccupied stall and rip the clothes out of your purse to throw them on. There’s no time to make yourself look nice in them, you need to be out of here tout de suite. They’re going to be expecting you to finish your business in a few minutes, not a few seconds, so doing this as fast as humanly possible was the key here.

You grabbed the wallet and ring from your purse and inverted it. The handbag you’d chosen for today was reversible, something done intentionally so as to make it less likely for the guards to recognize you when you walked past them.

Your belongings were stuffed back into the purse and you ran out of the stall with the same speed that you entered it in. The handful of people in here with you shot you weird looks, but none of them appeared to have gotten the chance to recognize you when you came in. After a brief glance in the mirror to confirm that your scarf was obscuring your face, you ran for the door.

Time to act casual. Despite your previously frenzied state, you open the door and exit calmly. You keep your head down and do your best to look as unassuming as you can. Abasi and Tabia are silently standing outside, observing the crowded casino. They pay you no mind as you walk past, barely sparing you more than an instinctive glance before looking away.

They didn’t recognize you!

As much as you want to squeal in excitement, now is definitely not the time. You weren’t out of the woods yet. There was still a chance that you would be recognized at the main entrance. That, and you’re pretty sure the guards would immediately put the casino into lockdown as soon as they realized you weren’t in the bathroom. Which wouldn’t take long, Tabia has come into the bathroom to check on you before if she thinks you’re taking too long.

The casino itself was extremely loud as per usual. Between the chatter of the patrons and the noise of dozens of slot machines being played all at once you were positive that no one will be able to hear your heart pounding out of your chest. Guests were bumping into you as you slipped into the crowd to blend in better, which was a new sensation thanks to your guards always keeping people well away from you.

It was a touch overwhelming. You didn’t hate it, though.

The sparkling glass doors of the entrance came into view, and as much as you wanted to run through them, you refrained. That would look way too suspicious. The doors were already propped open, all you needed to do was walk through them and you would be in the clear.

You clutched your purse tighter to your person in a weak attempt to soothe your nerves. The instant your foot passed the threshold, one of the employees at the door spoke up, promptly causing your heart to leap into your throat. This is it, you’ve been caught!

“Have a nice day, miss! Please do come again!”

Oh, okay. You’re fine. You offer a small wave and a little ‘mhm’ because you can’t risk them figuring out who you are based on your voice.

As soon as you’re outside, you break into a power walk. Both to put space between you and the casino, but also to get to your destination quicker. Luckily for you, there was a jewelry store just down the street. If you really sped through the process, you think you could be back home in about ten minutes.

Convincing your guards that they simply hadn’t noticed you leaving the restroom would be difficult, but you’ll cross that bridge when you get to it.

No one paid you any mind as you jogged down the street, likely having more important things to worry about. This was another unique experience. Whenever you would go on an outing with your dad, people would gawk and even cheer to see him. Naturally, their fondness extended to you, though it was debatable if it was genuine or if they just saw you as an excellent networking opportunity. Right now, though? You were just some girl in a hurry, that’s it.

The jewelry store came into view. Blue Diamond Waterfall was etched into the sign outfront in an elegant, blue font. This was considered to be the best place to get accessories in all of Alabasta.

With your hopes high, you march into the store and make a beeline for the men’s section. High end watches glinted at you from their cases, but you ignored them. You were here for a ring, and only that. Finally, you see a display case containing just what you were looking for.

Unsurprisingly, all of the rings are gorgeous. The bands are expertly crafted with masterfully done engraved patterns, and the gems were cut to perfection. You smiled widely under your scarf. Crocodile would love these!

As your eyes rake over the wide selection, a thought strikes you. There are no price tags. You get an uncomfortable pit in your stomach as you suddenly question if you had enough for any of these. Was the absence of price tags a stylistic choice, or was this a case of ‘if you have to ask you can’t afford it’. You weren’t able to save up a particularly large sum of money, so you really hope it’s the former.

Before your anxiety can gnaw at you any further, an employee approaches you from the other side of the display case.

“Good morning! My name is Lapis, is there anything I can help you with today?” The individual standing across from you was an older woman with a kind face and graying hair.

“G-Good morning,” you were starting to feel embarrassed at the possibility that you would be leaving here empty handed and that your efforts would be for nothing. “Um, I was wanting to buy a ring, actually.”

“Well I can certainly help you with that! Might I ask what the occasion is that you’re shopping for?” Her voice was chipper and welcoming, which did help soothe you slightly.

“It’s for my dad, his birthday is soon and I wanted to get him something special.”

Lapis’s eyes softened and she brought a hand to her chest, “Oh, that is so sweet! I would love to assist you with that! As you can see, we have quite the collection of men’s jewelry here. Was there a specific price range you were wanting to keep to?”

Oh, boy. Here it goes. You fish your wallet out of your purse and pull out every bill you have in there before handing it to her, “However much this is… it’s um, all I have.”

She gracefully took the money and quickly counted all of it. Her lips pursed when she finished, and you could feel yourself begin to sweat. Were you about to get laughed out of the store for not having enough?

The berry was handed back to you and she spoke up again, “Alright, if you’ll follow me, we have a selection just over there that’s within your budget.”

Just like that, a weight was lifted from your shoulders. This excursion wouldn’t be a waste after all!

Lapis stops at the case at the very end and unlocks the cabinet to pull out one of the trays, and that’s when your heart falls again. Oh. These were the cheap rings. None of them had gemstones and there was little to no detailing done on the bands. That’s not to say that the rings were hideous, but they lacked the level of flashiness that your dad tended to gravitate towards.

You must have been visibly crestfallen from the realization, and Lapis was quick to reassure you, “It’s okay, there’s nothing to be upset over! It’s the thought that counts, I’m sure your father will be happy with whatever you give him. I understand that these may not be what you had in mind, but rest assured these are held to the same level of quality as any other ring in the store.”

In all honesty, you do believe that your dad wouldn’t care about the price tag, but if you’re going to be getting yourself into trouble getting him a gift you would at least want it to be something really nice. Still, it’s not like you have much of a choice. You’re not about to leave empty handed.

“Yeah, you’re right,” you muttered lamely.

“Do you know what his ring size is, dear?” If she noticed how bummed out you still were, she elected not to comment on it.

“Oh! I almost forgot, here,” you pull the ring you took out of your purse and handed it to her. “I didn’t know what his size was, so I just brought one of his rings in. I hope that’s enough.”

She pulled a key ring out with a bunch of loops on it and began comparing them to the ring. After trying a couple, she nodded, “Excellent, that was a smart idea on your part.” Lapis examined it for a moment before handing it back to you, “That’s a lovely ring, your father certainly has a keen eye for quality.”

Yep. And here you are in the cheap section.

As if she read your mind, she added on, “Which is why he’ll be happy with whatever you get him from our store.”

Whatever, now was not the time to mope. You were working off of a very limited amount of time right now and needed to get back to the casino sooner rather than later. You focused on the rings in front of you in hopes that one would stick out to you.

One did. While there was no stone in it, the band was carved out in a way that it resembled scales. Crocodile did have an affinity for reptiles. You could see him wearing something like this.

Lapis took notice of your lingering stare and smiled brightly while plucking the ring from its stand, “This would be an excellent choice, you must have inherited your father’s tastes.”

It’s placed in your hand and you take the time to carefully examine the piece of jewelry. You must admit that Lapis was correct about the quality here. There wasn’t a single flaw to be found, and it was in your price range. What more could you really ask for?

“Do you have this one in his size?”

She beamed at you, “I need to check, but I’m fairly certain we do. One moment, please.” She took the ring back and put it with the others before placing them in the safety of the display case. Briefly, she left the room to go look for the ring you want.

Your fingers drummed along the case while you glanced around the store. No one was paying you any mind, which was a blessing. Getting recognized out on the streets without guards would be disastrous. Even if the people didn’t have ill intent, you would be in deep trouble for getting caught outside.

Lapis came back looking quite proud of herself with a velvet ring box in hand. She cracked it open so you could see for yourself that your desired ring was inside, “Lucky you, it was the last one in stock!”

Lucky indeed. You would have cried if you couldn’t have gotten this ring. You followed her to the register to complete the purchase, ready to get out of here.

To say that you cut it close would be an understatement. You didn’t even have a hundred berry left over, but you did have enough and that’s what’s important. Lapis offered to get a bag for you, but you declined saying that you wanted this to be a surprise. An answer she accepted easily.

“I’m sure he’ll love it! You should come by again and let me kn-”

Suddenly, the doors up front were kicked open and crashed into the walls with deafening thuds.

“Everyone get on the ground, this is a robbery!”

You froze immediately and felt sweat drip down your neck. This could not be happening. No way.

A gunshot echoed through the store and a nearby display case exploded, showering Lapis and yourself with bits of glass. You shrieked and immediately dropped to the ground while a different voice repeated the previous order.

The box was tightly clasped in your hands, and in a moment of panic, you covertly stuffed it into an inside pocket on your desert cape. Just in time, too.

One of the assailants stomped his way towards the front desk where you were. Had you not been keeping your head down, you might have seen the kick coming. His foot connected with your ribs and sent you rolling away from him and through more glass.

“Out of my way, bitch!” He barked at you while you curled in on yourself and tried desperately not to cry. You glanced up just enough to see that you had apparently been sitting by where the door to get behind the counters was. Why couldn’t he have just asked for you to move? Asshole.

You tried to crawl out of the puddle of glass you were in, only for another man to point a gun at you and tell you not to move. So naturally, you resigned yourself to laying in shards of glass and your own blood as they continued to cut into you. Better to be injured than dead.

Risking another glance at all the people piling into the store, you picked up on something. They’re pirates. No wonder your father loathed them so much if this is how they act. These are exactly the kinds of lowlife brutes that he had described pirates as being.

Funny, now you’re hoping that Abasi and Tabia somehow figured out where you went and would be here any second to save you.

Well, more than that, even though you knew he would be furious, you just want your dad. You’ve seen him dispose of threats before on the rare occasion someone was stupid enough to try and challenge him while he was out with you. Of course, you had been a little frightened at their display, but you knew that your dad would take care of it. And he did.

But now he wasn’t here. He was in a whole different city. All you could do was hope that they didn’t hurt you more than they already have.

And that you wouldn’t be recognized.

Glass crushed under someone’s feet as you were approached. You flinched and curled up tighter in fear of what could come. A hand gently pulls at your shoulder.

“Sit up, honey, you’re hurting yourself,” Lapis whispered while slowly adjusting you into a sitting position. The pirates didn’t bother saying anything this time, instead being much more focused on bagging up everything they could as the shop owner went around unlocking the cases at gunpoint.

Once you were up, she began carefully brushing away the glass from your clothes. She sighed when she looked at your face and saw the tear tracks. Using part of your scarf, she did her best to clean off your face, “It’s going to be okay. They care about the jewelry, not us. They’ll leave once they’re done.”

Her light ministrations ceased, and she looked at you with furrowed brows. Then her eyes widened and your hood was pulled further down your face with shaky hands.

What? Why did she-

She saw your full face when she moved the scarf. She knew who you were.

“Keep your head down no matter what, okay?” Her voice was so low and strained that you could just barely make out the words. This was really bad, but at least Lapis was on your side here.

“That’s a nice purse you got there.”

The voice belonged to one of the pirates, the one that had kicked you. All you could do was cower. That was definitely directed towards you.

Despite you being frozen, Lapis acted quickly. She slipped the purse’s strap off your shoulder and tossed it away from you two. The pirate growled in annoyance, but ultimately turned to fetch it. You couldn’t care less about it being stolen, it’s not like there was anything in there that couldn’t be replaced.

Wait. Crocodile’s ring! The one you brought here with you! Shit!

You need to get that back, but what the hell were you supposed to do? Confront a violent pirate that has already attacked you once? Fuck it, the ring isn’t that important. At least the one you just picked out was still safely tucked away on your person.

The pirate let out a long whistle, “Damn, this is nice. How does someone with a ring like this have barely anything in their wallet?” He came over and crouched down next to you, shoving your shoulder when you didn’t answer, “C’mon, speak up. Wait, don’t tell me you were here to rob these bastards, too. Oh, that’s hilarious.”

Lapis pulled you into her side firmly, “Leave her alone, she’s just a child.”

“A child? She’s practically full grown from the looks of it,” he leered at your body, taking in every part of you that he could. From your peripherals, you could see his hand reaching for your hood, “Let me see your face, sweetheart. If you did steal that ring then I think there may be a place for you on my crew.”

You cringed and attempted to duck out of the way of his intruding hand, but all that did was anger him. Roughly, he grabbed your cape and yanked it off you so hard that it sent you tumbling backwards. Much to your horror, when you look up you see him holding not only your cape, but also the scarf.

You were entirely exposed.

The pirate, the captain of this whole awful crew, stared at you hard. Then, he doubled over and started cackling. His cronies looked back and forth between him and you as he laughed hysterically, visibly puzzled by his reaction.

“Forget the jewels boys, this girl is worth more than this whole damn city!” Not giving you a chance to even attempt to get away, he grabs you by your hair and forces you to stand. As if yanking you around by your hair wasn’t enough, you feel the chill of cold steel being pressed against your throat. A quick glance confirms your fears.

“What are you talking about, captain?”

The dagger at your throat is pressed even closer, enough so that you can feel the warmth of blood droplets dripping downward.

“This is Crocodile’s kid, and he’s going to pay us some damn good money to get his ‘little girl’ back in one piece,” the captain snapped at the crew member who dared to question what was going on.

“Cro- Did you say Crocodile?! Oh hell no, I agreed to help you rob a couple of places, not fuck with a warlord!” The pirate protesting this looked like he was about to bolt.

“Fucking relax, we’ve got him over a barrel by having her in our clutches, he won’t try shit. Besides, that government lapdog hasn’t done anything important in years, and he’s obviously losing his touch and becoming careless if he lets his kid walk around on her own.” He kicked at your heels and snarled at you to move it, “Let’s get out of here before anyone can try and stop us.”

You tried to struggle out of his grip, but it was useless. Frustrated tears poured down your face and mixed with the blood on your neck. Your sobs did nothing to deter the pirates who only laughed at your terror.

A sickening crunching sound cut through the air, followed by the dagger clattering to the floor and your hair being released. The captain’s body hit the floor with a loud thud and a tense silence fell over the store.

You can’t explain what possessed you to do it, but you slowly turned around to identify what happened. As soon as you laid eyes on the sight before you, bile rose in your throat and you stumbled back.

His neck was mangled and twisted, bones pressed against the skin in unnatural ways that made your head spin.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Were those arms?”

The pirates seemed to be just as disturbed as you as they paled from witnessing the horrifying demise of their captain.

Running was the most obvious course of action for you, but you couldn’t. Your body refused to move. Until you felt a hand on your wrist. Immediately, you screamed and tried to wrench yourself free, but the grip was like an iron shackle.

You crashed into a solid form and the smell of an expensive but familiar cologne filled your lungs. More tears stung at your eyes, not ones of terror but relief, “Dad?” You whirled around and latched onto your lifeline as your sobs began anew. You tried to articulate how scared you had been, or how happy you were that he was here, but you couldn’t form a single coherent word in your state.

The hand that had brought you over settled on the back of your head, holding you close. It was borderline crushing, but it helped to ground you.

When you found the strength to look up, you saw that he wasn’t looking at you. His eyes are locked onto the surrounding pirates who were all too scared to make a move. You’ve seen your dad irritated before, but you’ve never seen such raw fury on anyone. There wasn’t so much as a miniscule trace of humanity behind his eyes as he sneered at the people before him.

Without so much as a glance at you, you were shoved into someone else’s arms, “Take her home. Now.” Sand billowed off his body as his devil fruit went into action.

“Of course, sir,” you recognized Robin’s voice instantly and clung onto one of her arms helplessly as she guided you out of the store. You attempt to look back only for her to cover your eyes, “Don’t. You don’t need to see that.”

—

Hours would pass before you saw your dad again. The time passed in a haze as you were fussed over by doctors to treat your plethora of injuries. None of them were particularly serious, much less life-threatening, but there were many small wounds that all required the utmost attention. The worst part of it was them needing to pick out the tiny bits of glass from your knees, but compared to everything else that happened today, it was manageable.

Currently, you were laying on your bed with an ice pack pressed to your ribs to help with the bruising from the kick. Your fingers brushed over the velvet box in the pocket of your loungewear as you pondered if this was all worth it. The answer was obvious.

Of course not.

Footsteps that you would recognize anywhere approached your room. For once, you weren’t excited to see him. You knew that this would not end well.

The door opened and closed. Crocodile looked over your bandaged form for a moment, then came closer to sit on the edge of the bed. You had yet to look at him head on.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“I just spoke with the doctors. Do not lie to me, you are not fine,” you could practically hear the scowl on his face as venom dripped off the word ‘fine’.

Risking a glance in his direction, his pinched features are about what you would expect. He was pissed, but not enough to lose his composure which was a positive. There was a noticeable amount of concern in his eyes.

Hesitantly, you reach out to hold his hand, a gesture he returns with a squeeze. “I’m sore…” you admitted, “but it’s not that bad, I guess.”

“I can’t put into words how relieved I am that you are alive and not hurt any worse than you are.” His eyes hardened and he continued, “With that said, what were you thinking?!”

The sudden raising of his voice made you jump. He’s never yelled at you even once in your life.

“Do you have any idea how dangerous and stupid that stunt you pulled was? How badly that could have gone for you if I hadn’t chosen to come back early?” A humorless laugh escaped him as he shook his head, “I knew it. I knew you were lying about something this morning, I just couldn’t determine what. If I hadn't listened to my instincts and continued with my plans for the day you could have been killed!”

“I’m sorry,” the apology sounds as weak and pathetic as you feel.

“I don’t want to hear it. What I want to know is what possessed you to do something so thoughtless. What could you possibly need from a jewelry store that you don’t already have? Was it just for the thrill or is all of this not enough for you anymore?” His tone was scathing as he gestured vaguely around your room at all the luxury items you owned.

There really isn’t any point in waiting now, is there?

“Your birthday is next week.” Gingerly, you pulled the box from your pocket and held it out to him, “I wanted to get you a real present for once. I’m sorry.”

Crocodile stared at the gift laid out for him, completely speechless. He released your hand and picked up the box, flicking it open with his thumb. His expression was unreadable, further adding to your previous fears of him hating the ring.

“I tried to save up enough money to get you something nice, but that was all that I could afford,” the explanation sounded lame, but it was the truth. Jewelry was much more expensive than you had thought.

“A-And I’m really sorry about this but I took one of your rings with me when I went because I didn’t know what size you were and it got stolen by one of the pirates. I d-didn’t mean for that to happen, but he already had my purse by the time I remember that it was in there.” You started to cry as the humiliation began to truly set in. You caused so much trouble and lost a ring he liked all for the sake of buying one that he didn’t even want. You were so stupid to think any part of this plan was a good idea.

Your lip wobbled as you wallowed in self pity.

Crocodile extended his hand to you, and you assume he’s giving it back to you because of how much he didn’t want it. You took it, but were surprised when his hand stayed there.

“Put it on.”

A loud sniffle came out as you shakily slipped it onto his index finger, “You like it?”

“I appreciate the effort you went through to get this for me, and it is pleasing to look at,” he admired it on his hand for a moment before staring hard at you, “But don’t you dare even think about doing something like this again. Do I make myself clear?”

You nodded vigorously. After how horrible this whole experience was, you would never so much as go past the front door without your dad by your side. You wouldn’t even go to the lobby anymore, not that you really think you’re going to be allowed to after this.

The second he opened his arms to you, you launched yourself at him, holding on for all it’s worth. His arms crushed you against him as he seemed to need this hug as much as you did. You reveled in the warmth and comfort his embrace provided.

“You’re grounded for the rest of your life, by the way.”

Despite everything, you couldn’t help but giggle.

“You’re laughing but I’m serious,” going against the previous statement, he chuckled a little himself.

Finally, he pulled you away from him and motioned for you to lie down again, “Get some rest. I’ve got some business to attend to, but Nico Robin will be around if you need anything.”

Rest sounded great right about now, and since you got some weight off your chest, you think you’ll actually be able to sleep unlike before. Yours eyes were already beginning to drift shut in the time it took for Crocodile to reach the door.

—

Crocodile glared at the simple ring adorning his finger. Not because he hated it or anything of the sort. Honestly, he found its simplicity charming to a degree. That, and it was a gift from his darling, albeit troublesome, daughter.

The problem lied in the fact that the only thing he could see when he looked at it was your terrified face as that filthy pirate attempted to take you hostage. Unfortunately, he would have to resign himself to learning to live with it because he’s going to have to wear this accursed thing every day for the rest of his life to spare your feelings.

Robin was already waiting for him in his office, something he was grateful for given how much he wanted to get his “business” done and over with. He sat at his luxurious desk and pulled out a much needed cigar, “Is everyone here?”

“Yes, they’re waiting for you in the basement.”

He nodded as his lighter ignited the end of his cigar and took a long drag. It did nothing to help his nerves. That wasn’t surprising though, considering the day he’s had. He spared a glance at Robin, “Were there any problems?”

“There was one runner, a guard that had been at the front door, but he’s been apprehended and is with the others.” Robin looked away and pursed her lips, “Is it truly necessary to have everyone on staff today down there, though? The few directly involved, I understand, but this seems excessive.”

“Excessive? My daughter could have been killed thanks to their negligence. I only hire the best of the best for security, they should not have been fooled by a goddamned scarf,” he seethed as he slammed his hook into the desk. The wood splintered from the force and the tip of the hook pierced it deeply.

What made the situation worse was that upon realizing that you were gone, your guards did not immediately call to inform him. Granted, he would have still killed them regardless, but it was the principle of it. The audacity to attempt to save their own asses by keeping your vanishing act a secret.

“(Y/N)’s safety is their top priority and failing to do the bare minimum of keeping her in the building is a grave mistake with a high cost. That cost being their lives.” Crocodile leaned forward and leveled Robin with a glare, “If you question what I’m willing to do for my daughter again, you will be paying the same price. Understood?”

She shivered under the intensity, but did her best to keep it together, “I understand, it won’t happen again.”

“It better not.” He stood up, heading for the basement to do what needed to be done, “Keep an eye on (Y/N) until I come back.”

“Yes, sir.”

#one piece #yandere one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #nico robin #sir crocodile #platonic yandere #yanderefangirl #crocodad series

527 notes · View notes

moonchildstyles · 7 months

Text

épanouissement

élan final part: there was no place like home, even if the people there tried to wreck it

wordcount: 22k+

—————

"You think this is going to make it stop?"

Harry slammed the boot of the car closed, their bags packed away with the sun low on the horizon. He didn't seem particularly optimistic when he gave (Y/N) a curt nod, but she couldn't blame him.

"'S the best I can think of right now," he murmured, "They at least won't know where you are or where to send anything. We jus' need to get through until we can make it back to New York, then we'll have more options."

She could tell Harry was still frustrated with the fact they couldn't fly back home at the moment, her father being the very obvious roadblock. That had been his first iteration of this plan; that they leave Paris behind and get back to the high-rises where she had the rest of her letters stowed away. Harry wanted to file something, go public with this kind of information and make it known that she wasn't safe—do anything to get this person off of her back if there was nothing that could be legally done with only the letters as evidence. But, to get back would require either her father's jet, or her very public return—two things that would rattle his cage and cause something she wasn't willing to deal with on top of everything else.

That was how they made it here: bags packed, and car heading out of Paris for the time being.

This had been Plan C (right behind A, that consisted of Harry hunting down this person and ending this mess in a rage, and B, heading home and gaining proper protection from authorities or otherwise). Searching through vacation listings in rural villages bordering Paris, Harry had found something far enough away he could buy her privacy while waiting for the chance to make it back to New York. It had been decided he would rent the cottage under his much less recognizable name and they would hide amongst the fields before an opportunity for something more concrete presented itself.

(Y/N) had never lived in a small town before, the mansion upstate with her parents having been the least populated area she'd resided in, but that had nothing on the tiny village Harry had pinpointed. His reasoning came from the fact that it would be incredibly hard to blend in while out there, no crowds around to slip into and no real reason anyone should be carrying around a professional camera. At the very least, it would provide a challenge for someone who was so used to herding (Y/N) into crowds and peeping through windows to get a glimpse.

It didn't take much convincing for her to go along with the getaway plan, Harry having urgently pitched it to her with his own duffle bag already half packed by the time he shared the details. She had enough time to pack her essentials (and maybe some non-essentials that came in the form of the bouquet of roses Harry brought her, now dried and preserved carefully in her bag), sleep on the idea, then they were off. Though she knew the purpose and was actually kind of excited to actually get away for the first time in her life, it was an odd feeling to see the structures and people of Paris pass outside of the window, growing smaller in the rearview the further Harry drove them out.

Her only hope was that no one was following them, thwarting their plan before it had even sprung into motion. This person was no stranger to camping around her home and spotting her as soon as she appeared. (Y/N) just had to trust Harry; he wouldn't have suggested this upheaval if he didn't believe the outcome would be the one he wanted, ending with her safe and happy as he had told her time and time again that was all he wanted.

Looking at him from the corner of her eye, the shine of Paris passing by the window in whizzing blurs behind him, she saw him with that new filter that had lingered since the night they kissed. Everything was just a little bit softer, a little hazier. Even with the sharp set in his jaw and the thinned line of his lips, she knew if she plucked just a hair closer she would see the ridges of his mouth that had been pressed against hers, the tip of his nose that brushes against her cheek, the sun-dappled stubble that had grazed her chin and was soft under her hands when he deepened the seal of their lips. She no longer only knew what he looked like, she knew what he felt like.

Though, they hadn't kissed since, instead leaving a blurred line between them. Harry no longer seemed to hold many reservations about that professional line that had developed, those grazes of his hand over hers or the way he hovered around her in the kitchen were no longer reserved for only the times that he was leading her through packed situations or acting as the security he was hired on as. He no longer shied away from her the same way he had before, the buffer of space having dissipated. He had even stolen a bite of her dinner right off her fork the night before, sharing a glass of wine where he pressed his lips into the same space she had supped from just before.

There was a level of intimacy they now shared, even if they hadn't touched the limits of the barrier since.

Even now, (Y/N) knew that if she peeled his hand away from the steering wheel, pressed her palm against his and laced their fingers together, Harry wouldn't hesitate to reciprocate that hold.

But, she wasn't sure how to do it.

She'd never been shy around a man before, not since she was a teenager. No attraction was ever serious enough for her to feel as if she were silly for acting the way she did or looking the way she did. She didn't lack confidence when it came to those she wanted, but Harry was different. He made her flustered and shy, sheepish and fluttering under the skin and she didn't know how to feel about that.

He made her feel like she needed to journal about him, add the night in the kitchen to her diary so she would never forget about the way his voice wrapped around the words sweet girl and how he promised he cared for her.

Even spying him now, the lines of his profile being haloed with the buttery light of the fringes of the city, (Y/N) felt her heart skip in her chest.

It was worth it to be flustered by him.

—————

After over an hour of golden fields and rose tinted air, the paved road making way for a gravel trail, the cottage of Harry's choice came into view.

Along the way, (Y/N) had been enamored with the scenery outside, spotting farms with grazing animals, swaying stalks of lavender, and the neighbourhoods growing smaller and smaller, actual neighbours getting few and far between. If Paris smelled like butter and wine, this rural area smelled of lavender and fresh linen. (Y/N) wanted to bask in the sunlight pouring over the land.

While Paris was one of her great loves, a place she was happy she could show Harry, this was exciting to her. The idea of experiencing this place for the first time with him at her side was enough to have her tummy fluttering into delicately ribboned knots. A new first together, she thought.

Just like the photos online showed, the cottage was small, showcasing just enough space for what the listing entailed. The frame was built with tan cobblestones, sandy shades emulating the wheat fields they passed on the way, warm and sunny. A small chimney was stationed on the side of the house, white trim outlining the windows and coloring the door. From where they were pulling in, she could see just the corner of the back porch. Bushes of deep greens and wine red roses were blooming against the buttery backdrop, standing low next to the croppings of lavender. Up the small chimney, ivy vines traced the brickwork, tiny white blooms fluttering in the wind. It was like a storybook, (Y/N) thought.

"This is beautiful, Harry," she whispered in awe, eyes the size of her heart as she took in the whole place.

"I saw the roses and figured this would be the place for us," he told her, his voice low though she could still hear the tinge of pride.

There was that fluster in her chest, the sheepish feeling that had her skin warming. For us, he said.

Pulling her gaze from the home, (Y/N) watched from the passenger seat as Harry pulled them into the tiny gravel drive. Her lips curled into a soft smile.

"I love it."

As soon as Harry had them parked in the drive safely, (Y/N)'s jittery excitement couldn't be contained. She was excited to check out their designated safe house, skipping out of the car and heading towards the storybook porch, saddled by bushels of lavender and roses. Harry hung back, grabbing their bags from the boot.

"(Y/N)," he called, his voice carrying over the lavender-scented breeze, "Before y'go in, there's only one bedroom."

Stopping in her tracks, (Y/N) turned on her heel. For a split second she thought about what it would be like to share a bed with him, to feel his arms wrapped around her waist and head nestled in her shoulder the way he always did when he held her. She saw that in the morning often, but she wondered if it would be different to wake up next to him, to see the mess of curls on his head and the bleary blinks of his eyes. She didn't hate the idea at all.

Staying put, she canted her head as she looked at him, hoping she was playing it cool. "Oh?"

He nodded his head, pushing the trunk closed with a fist full of two duffle bags (both hers). "I was planning on sleeping on the couch, but I want to tell y'before y'saw."

Harry caught up with her as she stood in her spot, shifting her weight with her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. "Are you sure?"

Meeting her eyes, the flecks of gold in his irises shimmering like stars in this light, he remained resolute. "'M sure. I jus' want you to be comfortable."

There's a part of her that wanted to argue that she would be more than comfortable with sharing the single bed with him, sleeping with the window open and sharing body heat under the linen. Though, that part of her didn't have a chance before Harry was forging ahead and unlocking the front door.

He went inside first, leaving (Y/N) to follow after with a view of his broad shoulders. He dropped the bags quietly in the tiny tiled space in front of the door, already peering around the cottage.

"Wait here for me," he murmured, getting that set in his gaze she remembered from the first time he had toured her apartment.

Kicking off her shoes, she stayed put while he cased the space, checking for any and everything. From where she was, no cameras could be found, or any open windows or cracked doors. Nonetheless, those closed windows were now locked, the closed doors were blown open, and every corner was double checked for any kind of camera that could be hiding in plain sight.

"Is everything okay?" she asked after Harry disappeared into the main bedroom.

Wandering out a moment later, he gave her an absent nod, his gaze stuck to the ceiling as if one of the dust motes in the air would suddenly start recording their conversation. "I think 's alright, jus' let me know if y'notice anything weird, please."

"Got it! Thank you," she beamed, feeling a bit too excited to start traipsing around the place. She hadn't felt like this since Francesca offered her a spot on her family's annual Switzerland trip and she saw the levels of the cabin they owned.

Taking in the small common area that would double as Harry's bedroom, she was endeared by the small television propped on the vintage wooden stand pressed against the wall. She could imagine sitting with Harry before bed, trying to watch an episode of Julia Childs and figuring out what exactly it was that she said before dropping the duck into the pan. It was cozy and small, complete with an overstuffed couch, a crocheted doily across the back and an uneven coffee table. There was a small space designated as the dining area just behind the couch, looking into the kitchen that was tucked away from the serenity of the living room. A huge pantry was the back wall of the kitchen, space left for any and everything (Y/N) could imagine.

There was another small hallway past the kitchen that led to the bathroom as well as what would be (Y/N)'s bedroom. A large window had been molded into the wall of the bedroom, giving a view into the back garden, complete with the small porch on the backside of the house. On the bed was a fresh pile of linen to be stretched across the mattress, fluffy pillows at the head. Inside the bathroom hung an ornate mirror, complete with a golden frame and a clawfoot bathtub. An even smaller short has been tucked into the corner, the tile matching the sunny, buttery tones throughout the cottage.

Everywhere she went smelled like powdery fresh linen, rosewater and lulling lavender. She'd never been so far away from a bustling city to experience something like this. The space was cozy and secluded, warm and inviting. She felt like she was sitting in a fairytale—this home fit for Beauty And The Beast. Bread should be baking somewhere, a pristine rose encased in glass.

She had thought Paris was the best place to be exiled, but even the city couldn't compare to this. Though she didn't have much to compare it to (thankfully) she figured this had to be the best of the best when it came to safe houses.

The best part? Checking her phone, she found she had limited service when not connected to Wi-Fi. Though it was small, that detail made it that much harder for someone to get into contact with her.

"Like it?" she heard Harry ask from where he sauntered through the doorway, his expression easy and warm as he gazed at her.

"I love it," she answered through a beaming smile, grazing her hand over the fresh linens waiting on her bed, "Thank you." Watching the spring back of the sheets against her hand, the fluff of the pillows waiting to cushion her head, she tried again, "Are you sure about the couch? Really sure?"

The bed was big enough for the both of them, she wanted to tell him. She wouldn't mind.

It was the half of a heartbeat's worth of lag before he answered her that had (Y/N) looking up to intently watch him. But, he was a master of a stoic face, giving nothing away as per usual. "'M sure, really," he cemented, "It'll make it easier for me to be right there in case anything happens, anyway. This looks like the kind of best y'could get lost in if you're not careful."

(Y/N) made a point not to think too hard about his words before she was relenting with a soft okay. Glancing out the window that made up a third of the wall, she fixed her eyes to the blossoming roses.

"Should we go check out the garden? Maybe there's vegetables we can use to make something."

The roses couldn't hold a candle to the way Harry's lips bloomed into a smile, complete with dimples and bright eyes the color of healthy, thornless stems. He held a hand towards her, "Yeah, c'mon."

This place was perfect, she decided, slipping her hand in his and allowing Harry to parade her through their temporary home. Just the flowers and Harry.

—————

Sitting on the overstuffed couch that doubled as Harry's bed, (Y/N) had her legs curled up underneath her and the T.V. in front of her showing an animated movie in French. Harry was at her side, legs spread with his arm laid across the back of the furniture, eyes squinted as he tried to decipher what exactly was playing on screen.

"What did they jus' say?" he asked, his question muttered as he craned his neck forward as if that would make him understand any better.

(Y/N) let out a soft breath of laughter, her eyes on the movie with a small rat skittering through the sewers, cookbook in tow. "We just finished watching this in English, you know what they said."

"I don't know what"—he added a jumble of letters accented in French, essentially speaking gibberish to prove his point—"means," he pointed out, shaking his head.

A peal of boisterous laughter left her lips over his half-hearted attempt, rolling into his chest with her eyes squeezing closed.

"You're not even trying anymore," she laughed, settling into Harry's side as he curled around her.

She fit against him like a puzzle piece, her head on his shoulder and his arm falling from around the couch to cocoon around her. Despite no more than a single kiss being shared between them, this intimacy, the comfortable touching and casual affection, had been the level they had reached, the outcome of that night in the kitchen.

"Do you really want to know what they're saying?" she asked, a touch breathless once her laughing settled down.

"I do, yeah," he murmured, his nose grazing the top of her head as he dropped his chin. He spoke to her like he was sharing a secret, something only for her to hear, and not a quiet request for translation.

(Y/N) translated for him, sharing the English version of whatever string of gibberish he had let out. Her voice was low, matching the volume of his own.

"How do you say it the right way—in French?" he asked after a beat, his tone lulled into something softer.

A small smile curled her lips. She loved it when he asked her to do something like this, to share the language with him. Bubbling it off, she shared the flourish of the sentence that he had already heard on screen just moments before.

A beat passed, Harry's arm around her tucking her into the cove his body was making around hers. "What did they say now?"

And the game began.

Despite the way he was asking about the movie, looking for translations and the French flourish to be slowed down for him in her voice, it wasn't about the script or the plot anymore. This was one of his favorite games to play with her, and (Y/N) indulged him every time. She liked reciting the lines for him, having him repeat them back at times if he wasn't too eager to fire off another excuse for her to speak French to him. More than once, he pulled away from her just enough to watch her speak, see the way her mouth formed around the words and the accent trolling off of her tongue.

"Have you learned how to say anything since I started helping you?" (Y/N) teased, her smile easy as she gazed up at him with her head resting on his shoulder.

His gaze lingered over her features, the tip of his tongue peaking out to wet his lips. "I know a few things," he said, decidedly more serious than her own tone.

"Like what?" she pressed through her soft-lipped smile.

Harry started off easy, reciting off words that he'd garnered from his time in the kitchen with her. "Tomate, carotte, ail, soupe, poireau," he listed off, counting on his fingers with each one, even as (Y/N)'s laughter rose.

Of course he would remember all of the food related words she'd taught him—he always paid a lot more attention when she was making him dinner.

Twisting on the cushions, (Y/N) turned to face him, her side now pressed against the back of the couch with Harry's arm around her with his hand settling on her hip. He watched on as she bubbled with laughter, her features bright and laugh filling the small cottage.

"That's all you know?" she giggled.

"I know a little more," Harry promised, looking a little smug before his gaze started tracing over the planes of her face. As her laughter died down, she wished she knew what he was thinking as he looked at her. She wondered what he saw in moments like these. "I know rose," he started, his words drawling and lingering a little more this time, "Pétale. Magnifique."

He went on to describe another color when he locked eyes with her, his gaze shifting over her skin and hair, more descriptors following after. Everything was said with a lingering flourish, as if they were more than just colors and little words he'd picked up, but more like a poem he was reciting. She watched as his raspberry lips wrapped around every word, even if he fumbled the pronunciation just a hair. More and more gentle, tender expressions left his lips, his eyes warming and deep as he looked at her the whole time.

"Douce," he finished with, his eyes lingering on the shape of her mouth. The room suddenly felt charged the longer he gazed at her, (Y/N) warming under his eyes.

"I never taught you those," she murmured, smiling with a cant to her head, trying her best to keep her head straight.

"I know," he answered on a soft exhale, his attention obviously taken elsewhere.

"Where'd you learn it then?"

"Myself."

"Yeah?" she asked, the corners of her lips lifting that much more, "When did you do that?"

She could only ever recall him reciting things she had taught him, never anything like this. Though it wasn't that complicated, some of the words he'd shown off with, it was more than he'd come to the country with and she was proud of him for learning any at all when he easily could have relied on her for translation the whole time.

Harry shrugged casually, though the silence suggested anything but. The audio of the movie had become nothing more than white noise, a vague French song in the background of this scene.

"I—Um—I wanted..." he started, words fumbling and distracted. The full of his bottom lip became trapped between his teeth, a slight pause before he regained himself with a clearing grumble of his throat. Harry looked at her through his lashes, "I want to know how to describe you if I ever needed help to find you."

"So you learned sweet and gorgeous?"

(Y/N) wanted to tease him, give him an easy smile and laugh with him, but her voice stuck in her throat. There wasn't anything to tease him about, anything that could cut through the breathless tension. He was admitting to thinking she was pretty, and that was enough to stutter her lungs.

"Isn't that you?" he deadpanned, with genuine intensity sitting in his eyes.

The heart shape of his lips fell into a soft gape as he gazed at her. The hold he had on her hip tightened that much more. If not for the fact that she was hyper-aware of everything him, she doubted she wouldn't have noticed the minute way his breathing hitched, his throat slightly bobbing.

Maybe she needed to give it a second thought, allow a moment of pause, but (Y/N) didn't hesitate before she was reaching across and pressing her lips to Harry's. Only a beat of lag came from him; his neck stiffened under her hands she had looped around to connect at his nape, the fingers on her hip flexing. It didn't take long for him to lose himself in the kiss, melting against her and tipping his head to reciprocate.

Slotting his lips against hers, he cradled her top lip between his two and kissed her with everything that had been waiting since the last time they had a moment like this. He was able to curl himself around her, cupping her hip and using the bar of his arm to tuck her against his chest. (Y/N) kept her hands locked around his neck, fingers twiddling with the baby hairs fringing his hairline.

Deepening the kiss, she tipped her head, the tip of his nose brushing the apple of her cheek. His chest pressing against hers as he pulled in a deep breath, the warm fanning across her skin when they broke away for a heartbeat. Harry followed her, sealing his lips against hers once more, shifting that much closer to her on the couch. His hand on her hip skated up her side, creasing and bunching her shirt up her side as he came to rest his palm on the ladder of her ribs. His grip strengthened there, matching the intensity of his kiss as he slid the tip of his tongue across the seam of her lips, hugging her to his chest with her arms bundled between. She clung to his shirt, fisting the fabric as if he could slip away if she wasn't careful.

"Harry," she whispered, pulling away. She just wanted him to open his eyes; she wanted to see him again, remember that this was the man she was kissing, the same one she met in her father's office.

Drawing away just enough to match her gaze, she watched intently as he opened his eyes with a flutter of his lashes. His pupils were dilated, his eyes increasingly dark compared to the mossy jade that typically made up his iris. His lips were kiss-swollen and cheeks rosy with a heated flush.

She had done this to him, the quiet rise and fall of his chest, the way he couldn't seem to look away from her for even a split second.

The thought had her throwing herself back into the kiss, her hands around the back of his neck shifting until she was cradling his jawline in her palms. The stubble covering the skin prickled against her palms, the soft skin of his cheeks moving with every heavy kiss he planted upon her lips. Harry's free hand that had been carefully resting on his thigh abandoned post, coming up to cup the side of her throat, his thumb circling the hinge of her jaw. He held her steady as he pushed against her, giving and giving and giving while her soft mouth cushioned the full of his kissing.

"C'mere," he murmured against her lips, his voice a heated breath fanning across.

With that, he used his arm he had wrapped around her, holding her hip, to pull her to his lap. He helped position her atop him, her thighs splitting to fit his hips between, her feet folding underneath to hook under his thighs. His own legs were still spread, with sifting heavy and hard bulging in his lap. Both of his hands came to cup her bottom, keeping her steady on his lap with his fingertips digging into the plush skin there.

(Y/N)'s fingertips curled in the baby hairs bordering his hairline, her brows coming to a furrow as she rested heavily on his hard cock. His hands on her ass held her flush against him, until he seemed to grow restless and started using his leverage to roll her hips against his in slow grinds.

There wasn't anything urgent in the way he moved her, gripping her and lifting her until she slid down the bulge in a lingering stroke. It was indulgent. It matched the lingering kisses, the heavy breaths in the air, the way (Y/N) couldn't seem to have him close enough and Harry couldn't taste her enough.

While their first kiss had been entirely romantic and revealing, backlit by the Eiffel Tower and scented with confessions of adoration, this was different. She had been missing him before she had even kissed him. Now, combined with every moment she had wished she had him after that night in her kitchen, it was all coming together and fueling this moment.

She couldn't help the small, breathy moan she let out against his mouth, Harry's fingers flexing against the plushness of her bottom. He pulled away then, though his lips never left her skin. He turned to messy, streaking kisses splayed over her cheek, down her jaw, and over the column of her throat.

"Feel good?" he asked, his voice a smear against her skin.

(Y/N) threw her head back, feeling his cock twitch between her legs. God, she had never been more grateful for the thin fabric of her sleep-shorts and the fact it seemed Harry didn't like to wear any boxers under his sweats.

"Uh-huh," she breathed, her neck stretching under his lips with more space for him to make his mark.

Harry did just that, his teeth scraping against her skin with a sharp nip, her body tensing against his. (Y/N) was melting, melting, melt—

Until something outside seemingly crashed on the ground, a clattering noise ringing across the patio out back.

(Y/N) startled in her skin, clinging to Harry in a different way with her chest rapidly rising and falling against his. Her eyes were wide, the vignette that clouded her vision and sunk her deeper into this moment with him dissipated in an instant. Harry held her for a moment, seemingly startled himself, until he sprung into action.

"Wait here," he murmured, twisting her off his lap and settling her into the couch cushion.

He didn't look back when her hands dropped from him, her body curling in on itself as he disappeared. She knew he had gone through the kitchen, reaching for something in a cabinet before the backdoor was thrown open and Harry stomped outside.

She wished she could get a glance of him somehow, shakily rising to her knees. She looked over the back of the couch, hoping to spot him through the small trio of windows that lined the back wall of the dining area.

They both had the same suspect in mind, she was sure of that. And, by the direction the last photos she had looked at began taking, her admirer—stalker, she reminded herself—was starting to turn on Harry. She didn't want him getting hurt.

There was no telling how long he'd been outside with the way time seemed to stand still then. (Y/N) knelt there, waiting, watching, worrying her lip between her teeth and finding anything to worry her hands with.

It could have been hours by the time the back door opened once more, Harry stomping through and reappearing. This time, she saw him with a gun in his hand, something she'd never seen him with but figured he would have had given the nature of his job. He took a moment to leave it on the dining table, the barrel facing away from her before he turned to face (Y/N).

His eyes were wild, hair a mess.

"What was it?" (Y/N) asked, even her whisper feeling too loud for this moment.

Harry shook his head, seemingly decompressing when she shuttered his eyes and took in a deep breath. The sharp set to his shoulders didn't deplete, but the lines beside his eyes finally relaxed. He ambled towards her on slow feet, his demeanor defeated despite being her saving grace in that moment.

"Some animals got into a fight in the garden," he told her. He stopped to stand in front of her, placing his hands on either side of her where she still knelt with her own fingers digging into the backing cushion of the couch. He looked down at her with hooded eyes, coming down from the skyrocketing adrenaline that had pumped through both of them. "'M sorry."

"For what?" she pressed, dumbfounding that he would be apologizing then. It wasn't as if he made the noise that spooked the life out of her.

He rolled his neck, his eyes dropping down to the curve of her throat. "I didn't mean to interrupt," he explained, his choice of words careful as they fell from his mouth, "I jus'..."

"No, don't be sorry," she insisted, a furrow to her brow as she laid her hand atop his. Though she felt a bit shy thinking about what exactly had been interrupted, she didn't want him to hold any guilt for something that was far from his fault. "I don't blame you, or anything. We're hiding for a reason, even if it's been really easy to forget these last couple of weeks. You still technically have a job to do instead of just watching movies with me and doing the dishes while I nap."

She was trying her hand at being light-hearted, hoping to alleviate the fatigue that had entered his system. She wanted him to smile again.

Unfortunately, all he did was shake his head again. The man she had been snuggling and kissing on the couch was out of commission for the time being it seemed.

"I need to be paying more attention," he told her, his tone resolute as if he had failed her. He stepped away then. "'M going to see if I can find any temporary security cameras I can put up outside."

With that, the conversation was seemingly over while he rifled through his duffle bag for his laptop.

Reality was sinking in against once more, the rose petals falling around her.

This wasn't a vacation, she had to remember, a lusty getaway with a dreamy man. There was a reason—a good and important reason—that they had to flee the way they did.

—————

"Are you going to bed?" (Y/N) asked, meeting Harry's eyes from where he stood in the doorway of her bathroom. He had lent against the jamb, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched her through the mirror.

"Yeah," he said after a beat, seemingly coming alive from where he was watching her twist her damp hair into a braid. "Jus' wanted to come say goodnight."

Harry had been decidedly quiet after the clatter from outside, a distance having been put up between them despite the intimacy they shared just moments before it had been shattered. (Y/N) hadn't expected him to visit her after the sun went down, assuming she would have to wait until the morning to see him again and hope he was less in his head after a night's rest.

The fact he came to see her at all, waited until she was out of the shower and readying herself for bed, brought a wide grin to her face.

Turning on her heel, she met his eyes head-on, no longer having to go through the mirror. "Goodnight," she murmured through her smile, "I'll see you in the morning for breakfast?"

Harry's eyes lingered over her. Her skin was especially soft and warm after her shower, scented with Miss Dior and the rose petals that seemed to follow every room in the cottage. The high points of her face were coated in a dewy shine from her moisturizer, her hair soft from her conditioner. A set of silky pajamas slid over her freshly exfoliated skin, softening Harry's phantom hold she pretended she hadn't been thinking about all afternoon.

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, "I'll see you in the morning. Goodnight, (Y/N)."

Expecting him to head out to the living room to sleep then, (Y/N) was surprised when he did the opposite. Harry reached out and settled a heavy hand on her waist, pulling her to him with a gentle tug. Dipping down, he pressed his lips to hers in a tender kiss. Everything was innocent, nothing heated or deepened. He kept his hand on her waist and lips sealed her hers for a breath before he fell away. The tip of his nose skimmed hers before he pulled back completely.

He looked at her with flushed cheeks and wide eyes, as if he couldn't believe he'd done the same thing.

(Y/N) only looked up at him with a wide smile touching her lips, reaching her hand out to clasp his for a moment. That disbelief in his eyes melted then, knowing that she wanted that kiss as much as he did.

"I'll see you in the morning."

Harry squeezed her hand in his before giving her a quiet nod, dimples in his cheeks.

Her eyes were on him until he left her room, though he was on her mind for the rest of the night.

—————

"Yeah, I'm fine. We just decided to leave the city for a bit. I realized I'd never been anywhere but Paris, and Harry was able to find this cute little cottage available for a few weeks so we took it."

(Y/N) prattled with the crocheted doily on the dining table, tugging at the edges and slipping her fingers through the knit, with her phone pressed to her ear. Francesca had called as soon as she read the text (Y/N) had sent, apologizing for the delay in getting back to her here weeks with her spotty service so far from the city. Fran had plenty of questions, too many for a text she decided.

"How far from the city is it that you barely have service?" Francesca pressed, the mortification easily detectable in her voice. (Y/N) couldn't blame her, the lack of consistent bars on her phone was rough the first few days, but the WiFi was good enough to stream movies and that was all she could ask for.

"Pretty far," (Y/N) mused, tiptoeing around the details for no other reason than she liked the level of anonymity she was gaining from this spur of the moment flee. Telling Fran seems like it would ruin the illusion.

Looking up, (Y/N) saw Harry quietly smiling to himself as he stirred the roasted tomato soup he had going on the stove. She had watched him prep for a half an hour, carefully slicing and sautéing ingredients he plucked from the garden along with the few he picked from the Farmer's Market he went to earlier in the week. That was how he was landed with dinner duty for the night, Harry having claimed he picked out the perfect things for a grilled cheese and soup—and he wanted to show her.

She smiled too, watching him stir, stir, stir just like she taught him was important. (While it may not have been as vital as she made it out to be when she had him as her sous chef, it was cute thinking he had clung onto that and used it for his own meals).

"Everyone's been worried about you," Fran shared, her words coming out on a sigh, "There's even been blogs trying to claim you died or something, all because there hasn't been anything posted about you since that date with that guy. And, because you haven't posted anything since before the Gala."

(Y/N)'s smile stretched at the new information. If there was nothing new for over three weeks to be shared about her, not even off-hand pap pictures or a blurry fan photo, there was no way anyone could know where she was. Her stalker wasn't the patient kind, if they'd found her already, there would be no way they'd keep it a secret to her or the press.

"Well, I'm not," (Y/N) joked, "There's no reason to worry or anything, though, seriously. I'm really happy."

From where Harry stood at the stove, that smile on his face widened, a deep dimple on his cheek.

"I'm sure you are with your bodyguard," Francesca laughed, her bright voice rising over the phone, "But, are you coming home soon? I miss you—New York is boring without you."

"I don't know," (Y/N) answered, dropping her eyes to her twiddling hands, "I haven't really talked to my father or anything about coming back, so... But you'll be the first to know when I know."

Honestly, (Y/N) didn't think she was ready to return to the city. While she knew this was temporary—the cottage, Harry's doting, everything so tranquil about this space—until they could make it back to the city and do something productive to end this stalker's obsession with her, she still couldn't help the way she was falling in love with it. Everything was easier here; lavender followed her like rose petals and even the sunshine seemed to have this clean smell. Even with the noise that rattled the cottage, that had been the one isolated incident that had put them on their twos, everything else solidly safe.

All (Y/N) did all day was ease into herself and into Harry—into the person she was when she was with him. Even he had begun loosening up; his job was still incredibly serious to him (he really did end up going out and grabbing these small security cameras he could access through his phone, the gadgets set up outside of the cottage to catch anyone approaching), but the slow-pace of the countryside was getting to him, she could tell.

Kisses were even shared freely between them now, less of a production of built up tension and more of a gift they could give—a reminder the other was there and was thinking of them.

She didn't want that to change if they were to stray from this cottage.

"Well, you need to come back soon," Fran started, the sounds of a pout in her voice, "Besides, I heard Dami—Oh, shit, I'm late for a nail appointment. I have to go!"

(Y/N) couldn't help the laugh that bubbled to her lips at Francesca's sudden plans. She couldn't remember many times she was ever on time for any kind of appointment.

"Okay, text me later, then," (Y/N) said.

"For sure, for sure" Francesca bubbled, "I'll talk to you soon, love you!"

"Love you, too. Bye, Fran."

Francesca barely said her own goodbyes before she hung up, leaving (Y/N) shaking her head as she pulled her phone from her face. Looking up, she saw Harry looking to her with a soft smile on his face, his features molded into soft curves.

"Everything alright?" he asked, his eyes following her as she stood from the dining table and joined him in the kitchen.

Peeking inside the pot, seeing all the herbs and spicing floating through the soup, (Y/N) took in a deep breath. "Needy," she joked, reveling in the small laugh Harry let out for her, though his stirring never ceased, "She just misses me, she said. People are starting to think I'm dead apparently, since I haven't posted anything and there haven't been any more pictures coming out of me."

"Yeah?" he pressed, brows raised as he looked at her. Now he stopped stirring the wooden spoon, his direct attention on her.

"Yeah," she smiled, excited to share the news, "I think we're doing good. I don't think anyone knows where we are; we're doing good."

Pride found a home on Harry's features then. "We're doing good, yeah," he affirmed, smile growing on his lips.

Everything felt good in that moment.

For the first time in a while—years, even—there wasn't the threat of eyes on her that (Y/N) had learned to live with. She didn't have the urge to look over her shoulder and catch someone in the act with a camera in her face. Here, she was able to indulge in the small moments with Harry: watching him cook a simple dinner, watching movies she hadn't seen in years, going over a week without wearing a single spot of makeup on her skin.

Just as (Y/N) snatched a bit of cheese Harry had left over on his cutting board, a firm hand wrapped around her waist tugging her to a firm chest. Harry's familiar lips were pressed to hers in a breath, soft and giving. (Y/N) couldn't help the smile that formed against his mouth.

Pulling away (Y/N) gave him that same smile he felt, letting him see it for real. She would never not see a model when she looked at him, feeling that much more lucky to be with him here, knowing he cared about her.

"Ready for dinner?" he muttered, his voice dancing through his quiet, dimpled smile.

A teasing edge entered her lips. "What are we having?"

Her smile only widened when Harry answered her with gummy French words, nothing at all like she had taught him to say just a few hours prior.

"Almost," she laughed, biting back her smile with her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Yeah? You'll have to teach me again," Harry cemented just before he pressed another kiss to her lips.

—————

Harry looked at the grocery list in his hand with intensity, his brows in a furrow.

"This is everything we need?" he asked looking at (Y/N) through his lashes.

"Mhm," she hummed, running through what she had written down one more time in her head, "But, if you find anything that looks really good, just grab it and we'll make something with it. Please."

"Okay," he sighed, sounding unsure despite the fact the trip to the farmer's market was his idea.

He got this way, mood shifting, every time he had to head out without her since coming to the cottage. It wasn't his favorite thing to leave her behind, numerous worst case scenarios floating around his head when he had to, but it was an even worse option to take her along. Having her seen out and about would defeat the whole purpose of running to the countryside. It wasn't something either of them were willing to sacrifice.

Nonetheless, it didn't make it easier for him.

"You'll be fast, H," she reminded him, reaching out to lay her palm on his forearm, "I'll be okay."

"I know," he answered automatically, though (Y/N) could see the gears turning, his head spinning just under the surface of his stoic calm.

Stretching to her tiptoes, she pressed a small kiss to his cheek, right where his dimple would dent if he were smiling. "Come home soon, okay?"

This time, when his eyes met hers, she could still see the intensity though it was dulled by something soft and dazed. "Okay," he murmured, his answer simple.

"Then go," (Y/N) prompted him with a small smile, standing back to usher him towards the door before he could change his mind, "The faster you leave, the faster you can come back to me."

Harry didn't leave until he pressed a grazing kiss to the tip of her nose, then he was out the door with another promise to come home within the next hour. She sent him off from the front door, waving to him as he backed out of the drive and entered the main stretch of road towards the village center.

She hoped he found some roses to bring home with him.

—————

Tucked into bed, bright moonlight shone through (Y/N)'s bedroom. Looking through the windows, she had never seen so many stars in the sky. How could so many of them exist and her never actually seeing more than a handful at a time?

(Y/N)'s breath caught when she heard her door knob rattle, the sound aggressive compared to the tranquility of the night. Harry wouldn't do something like that, would he?

She didn't have to question anymore who it could be when the door slammed open a moment later. A faceless man barged in, heading directly towards her bed with rough hands reaching out towards her.

Though she wanted to scream, to feel her throat burn with the breadth of her voice, nothing came out. Her light linen bedding was too heavy for her to move, clinging to her body and tying her down. She could do nothing as the man approached, her being his only target.

Where's Harry? That was all she could think about. Where was he? Was he okay? He never would have let anything like this happen to her if he could stop it. Horror wretched through her body at the thought of him giving himself to be gravely injured in an attempt to save her. Her eyes burned with tears.

Where is he, where is he, where is he—

The man's rough hand closed around her throat.

Shooting awake, (Y/N) was drenched in sweat. Her breathing was heavy, her eyes burning from tears she had shed in her sleep. No moonlight snuck through her windows like in her dream, the only light coming from the small night light plugged into the wall.

She sat with her head in her hands as she came down, willing the nightmare out of her mind. She was so tired, wanting nothing more than to return to sleep and wake up at a real hour, but she knew she couldn't do that yet. If she returned to dream land now, she would have to spend another terrifying time with the faceless man until she woke up like this again.

Her mind was chugging along, running too fast for her slow sense-of-self to keep up. The only clear thought was the same one she had during her dream:

Where's Harry?

That feeling she had as a little girl when she would wake up from a nightmare and just wanted someone—a nanny, her mother, anyone who might care—to coddle and coax her down returned in that moment. She wanted Harry.

He could protect her, she knew that. He'd said he cared about her. He always told her to grab him if she needed him, no matter what it was that was setting her. He'd be there for her, he promised.

It was on those juvenile instincts that (Y/N) climbed out of bed and padded towards the living room. She sniffled as she opened her creaky door, peering out to find Harry asleep with the television on, scrunched onto the couch. A loose blanket was draped over his form, a pillow tucked under his head as he slept on his side, his hair a mess of loose curls.

There was a part of her that didn't want to wake him, that already felt a bit guilty over the idea of pulling him from his sleep when he didn't really have any responsibility to care for her when she was like this. That was why she hesitated for just a moment before crossing the room. She needed him, she thought, remembering the faceless man in her dream that had struck a fear in her that felt something close to primal. Harry always told her to get him if she needed him; he cared about her. He wanted her to be happy, not like she was now with teary eyes and a sniffly nose.

"Harry?" she asked, standing awkwardly off to the side of the couch, still a tad nervous over waking him at such a rough hour. When he didn't stir, she tried again, raising her voice just a hair.

At that, Harry startled awake, his eyes fluttering open in urgent blinks. When his gaze focused around the room, he took her in with her watery eyes and unsure stance before him.

"(Y/N)? What's wrong?" he grumbled, forcing himself awake through bleary eyes.

At his question, (Y/N) felt a bit silly. He most likely imagined something serious, like a new letter, someone having found the cottage, anything of real danger, when in reality she just had a bad dream and didn't want to be alone.

"Are you okay?" he pressed, urgent now that she wasn't answering him. He moved to get off the couch before she stopped him, panicking some.

"Yes, yes, I'm okay, sorry," she rushed out, flustered, "I just... I had a bad dream and..."

She didn't finish her thought, rolling her lips between her teeth instead.

Though she wasn't sure he was entirely awake still, Harry didn't hesitate before he was settling back into the couch and scooting back as far as he could before opening up the blanket. "C'mere."

(Y/N) stood still, eyes following the cave he'd made with the blanket draped over his arm to welcome her in.

"'S okay, (Y/N)," Harry murmured, patting his free hand on the space beside him, "C'mere."

Her heart jumped in her throat as she gave into his direction. While this had been what she had asked for—hoped for—she didn't really think about the reality of getting just that.

With the way Harry had crammed himself against the back of the couch, there was just enough space for her to slip in beside him, her arms bundled between them. There was no part of them that wasn't touching, the warmth of shared body heating intensifying when Harry laid his arm around her waist, blanket fluttering down. He helped her settle into him, his ankle hooking around hers, hand flat on her back to keep her steady on the sliver of cushion, and his other arm laid out with his bicep as her pillow. He curled her into him, becoming that furled rose once more, the protector of his worried bumblebee.

He placed a hand on the back of her head, tucking her under his chin with her forehead resting on his throat. (Y/N) breathed into the hold, melting against him and welcoming the cage of his arms.

Now, nothing could get her.

"What happened, sweet girl? Your dream really this bad?" he murmured, voice giving away the fact that he was clearly much closer to sleep than he was giving off.

(Y/N) snuggled closer to him, enjoying the way she could feel his voice in his chest as much as she heard it with her ears. She nodded against him. "It scared me," she sniffled, "I don't want to go back to sleep in case it starts again."

His hand on her back moved in a soothing circuit, fingers spread out wide. "What happened?"

The details of the dream were still too sharp for comfort, none of that fuzziness that usually followed after waking. "It was the stalker," she told him, aware of the way Harry's arms locked around her that much tighter, "I don't know how I knew it was them, but it was. He found the cottage while we were sleeping and he did something to you I think. Then he came into my room and I woke up when he started choking me."

Harry nosed at the top of her head, a frown apparent on his lips. "(Y/N)," he crooned, "That's terrible. Were y'thinking about them a lot today?"

"I don't think so," she answered, voice small. "I don't know why I had a dream like that."

"'S alright," he soothed, voice fanning through her hair, "'M happy y'came and got me—I don't want you to deal with this stuff by yourself."

(Y/N) allowed her eyes to flutter closed as she laid in his arms. It was nice knowing he wasn't upset with her after she scared him awake.

"Y'don't want to fall asleep again?" he asked after a moment, scratching his nails gently over her back, her t-shirt softening his touch that much more.

"Not yet," she shook her head. It was all still too fresh. If she fell asleep again, would she see that faceless man again? Would he chase her through the cottage this time? Force her to see whatever he'd done to get Harry out of the way. "Definitely, not yet," she repeated, her voice thick over the reminder of her fear.

"Okay, okay," he crooned, "We won't go back to sleep, yet then. We'll stay up and talk a little, instead. Do you think that'll help?"

"Yes, please."

Petting his fingers through her hair, Harry sighed. "Good, good," he murmured, the sleep still thick in his voice. Nonetheless, that didn't keep him from saying, "I don't think you've ever told me how you met Francesca."

The abrupt change in topic was perfect for what (Y/N) needed, pushing her mind in the complete opposite direction of what had transpired in her dreams.

"I met her at private school, when I was, like, thirteen," she shared, fondly looking back on the days of her youth with her best friend. "We met on orientation day, moving into the same dorm."

"Dorm?"

"Yeah," (Y/N) confirmed, "It was also a kind of boarding school my father picked for me after he and my mom filed for divorce. But, anyway, we were in adjoined rooms, sharing a kitchen. I was definitely shyer than her, but after we found out we had almost the exact same classes, we started hanging out in the kitchen and doing our homework together all the time. She's been my best friend ever since.

"We did pretty much everything together when we were younger. I spent a lot of summers with her, and her mom invited me to go on trips during the holidays with them." She thought back to the amount of time she spent at Francesca's when her parents were dealing with their divorce, fighting over the prenuptial agreement and who got what assets. Those summer-long sleepovers were some of her favorite memories. "Did you know that she had a bodyguard when we were sixteen?"

"She did?" Harry mused, his fingers still working through her hair.

"Mhm," she hummed, "His name was Barry. During the school year, photographers started showing up at our school trying to get pictures when we were outside for gym class, or lunch, or whatever they could catch of us. I remember Fran telling her mom how much it scared her because they would yell at us or say whatever they could to get us to react. The school was able to get them off the property after a while, but when we were out for the summer, her mom hired Barry to look out for us so that didn't happen again."

"You were sixteen when this started?" Harry pressed, his voice decidedly tender, carefully breaching the subject.

"Yeah. But it only got really bad after I turned eighteen," she shared, thinking back to the way paparazzi changed when she became of age. Rules no longer seemed to apply when it came to how close they came to her or how rowdy they got in order to get a reaction. That didn't matter though, she reminded herself. It was too long ago to care about, anymore. "Barry was really nice, though. He didn't talk a lot when I was around, but Fran really liked him."

She was sure Harry wasn't impressed with the backstory of her tabloid fame, resenting the age of which her entire life changed. She couldn't blame him. Nonetheless, he stayed composed with only a deep breath inflating his chest, his hold on her staying strong.

"That's good, 'm happy he was good to you," he told her, his hand rubbing her back, "I didn't know that y'knew Francesca for so long. She's a good friend to you, isn't she?"

"The best," (Y/N) answered, smiling against Harry's throat, "I love Emma, Toriana, and Kita, and all, but Fran's been there through everything. Her and Sully are the only reasons I haven't actually lost my mind the way everyone thinks I have."

"Sully's good to you, too, isn't he?" Harry started, steering her to more happy thoughts, "You're close with his family aren't you?"

"A little, yeah. I've met his wife a few times, and I give his daughter a lot of clothes and everything."

"You gave her a prom dress, right?"

"I did, yeah." (Y/N) smiled. She still needed to get pictures from Sully of her in the Dior gown she passed on. "She's so sweet. She goes to a private school upstate, and Sully told me one time that she felt like she didn't fit in because all of the other girls had all these fancy clothes, so I started buying a bunch of stuff I hope she liked and then told him I was giving them away so she could have them if she wanted. From what I hear, she absolutely loves them."

"You did that with her prom dress?"

As much as (Y/N) tried to fight it, Harry's lulling questions were so soothing to her. The rumble of his chest and the soft way he handled her, petting her hair and rubbing her back, she was getting more and more sleepy as they went, her lips looser and stories more and more personal.

It was easy to share with him like this.

"No, her prom dress was one of my favorite Diors I had when I was sixteen. I only wore it for one night for a school event, then never again. I loved it, so I figured she would love it too."

"That's very kind of you, (Y/N)," he told her after a beat, the praise being spoken against her hair with the tip of his nose skimming her scalp. "I'm sure she really appreciates it."

"I hope so—it was vintage," (Y/N) laughed, feeling Harry smile against her hair. Her hands that were bundled between their chests twisted until she was fisting his shirt in her hands, the planes of his chest smooth under the fabric. "Who else do you want to know about?"

"I'll listen to anything y'want to tell me," he crooned, unashamed over being caught in his pointed game of misdirection and distracted. "As long as you're not too tired, 'm here to listen."

If she was being honest, (Y/N) knew she could go back to sleep and slip into a new dream no problem at this point. She barely remembered her nightmare, the only details she could recall being ones that she had shared out loud with Harry. Everything else was a fuzzy blur.

But, she didn't want to sleep yet.

She was telling him things she hadn't really told anyone, for no other reason than there was no one there to listen. She couldn't really share to Sully and Fran the retelling of her favorite memories with them, or how much she loved them without crying. Harry was the first person to genuinely ask her these things and care about what she had to say. It was a comforting thought; that she wasn't alone.

She wanted to tell him everything. She wanted him to know exactly who she was.

Starting with the reason they even know each other in the first place, she decided.

"That whole thing with Damien Moore didn't happen the way the magazines said," she started, unsure of where exactly she was starting this story, but knowing she wanted to share it. "He's the son of one of my father's investors, and even though he's a few years younger than me, our dads always wanted us to be together for some reason. I only really met him a couple of years ago, and he seemed way more okay with the idea of being set up than I was, but I couldn't reject him or anything because he'd tell my father.

"I started seeing him more earlier this year, but nothing ever happened, of course. But, with the pictures and all, his dad had made us reservations at this restaurant but I told Damien I wouldn't be able to stay long because I was meeting Fran later to go out in the Upper West Side." (Y/N) wanted to roll her eyes at the memory of Damien's reaction, not regretting a single thing about the way she handled him. "He got really upset then, saying I would embarrass him if I left and he started saying terrible things about Fran—like, how I shouldn't be friends with a slut like her, and she was tainting my reputation, and I shouldn't be friends with someone like her since I was better than that. Just stupid stuff. Obviously, I got mad and that was why I threw my drink on him."

(Y/N) paused. "I'd do it again, too."

A breathy laugh fanned across the top of (Y/N)'s head, Harry's smile apparent through the strands of hair he nosed at.

"I don't blame you," he murmured, "I'd do the same thing." He held her closely then, mulling over the silence that filled the room, the only light coming from the flashing television with whatever French program he had tuned into. "You're a good person, (Y/N)," he crooned, pressing a hard kiss to the top of her head, ensuring she felt it even as she teetered closer to sleep, "'M happy I got a chance to know you."

Snuggling closer to him, (Y/N) couldn't help her own quiet smile from plucking at her lips. She pressed a small kiss to the column of his throat, reveling in the warmth.

"Thank you for wanting to know me."

—————

Adjusting the clip in her hair, (Y/N) paused where she stood in the back garden of the cottage. The sun had been shining brightly since it broke over the horizon, only small puffs of clouds drifting through the blue sky. It had been her idea to prance through the space, taking advantage of the sunshine and celebrate the fact that they'd been able to evade prying eyes for so long.

And, she wanted Harry to pick some vegetables to be used for dinner tonight.

With him on his hands and knees, grabbing vegetables and tending to the garden as best he could, (Y/N) was free to play around and enjoy the space around the cottage. While she knew it was in her best interest, not being able to really leave the place at all in hopes of avoiding anyone catching sight of her or posting about her online had made her stir crazy. Any time she could spend outside with Harry was time she savored.

Brushing baby hairs out of her face, she smiled as she took in the sprawling wild roses that sprung up around the backside of the cottage, growing past the bordering lavender. It reminded her of the small hedge maze at the country club back home, though the blooms were much freer and untamed. The toes of her white sneakers were now dirtied as she traipsed around the blooms, her skin warmed and sparkling with a sheen of sweat.

A butterfly with gorgeous purple and orange designs spanning across her wings floated through the garden, (Y/N)'s attention stolen by the creature. She'd never seen anything like it back home. She didn't even know butterflies could be purple outside of nail art photos she found on Pinterest.

Flapping its wings, it came close to landing around (Y/N), not even scaring when she reached a hand out as if she could coax it into settling on her finger. It was a bit silly, the way she had the urge to chase it, but she couldn't really find it in her to care about looking juvenile.

When the butterfly finally did land on a thick green leaf, (Y/N) paused, slowing her steps before lunging out with her hands cupped into a makeshift net. She wasn't sure what she would do with it if she managed to catch it, but she at least wanted to touch it, pretend to be a princess for a moment with a little companion.

It came as no surprise when the butterfly flapped away before she came too close, though (Y/N) was suddenly determined to make a new friend. She didn't stop with her lunge, instead giving into that urge to chase and following after the insect. She had her eyes in the sky, watching as the sun shimmered over the purple glazed wings, showing off the intricate patterns nature had given the butterfly.

Reaching her hands up, (Y/N) thought she had bounded around the edge of the wild roses, but learned the hard way that she definitely hadn't.

With only a small linen skirt covering the top half of her thighs, her bare legs were left to the punishment of the thorny rose bushes. The sting of the barbs only came after she had sunk a few steps deep into the bushes, the pain registering after a lag. She yelped at the feeling, her shoelaces even growing stuck amongst the spiny greenery.

She froze in place, unsure of how to make it out of this mess without further injuring her legs.

In an instant, after most likely hearing the cry she gave out, Harry was rounding the side of the cottage, brows furrowed and jaw tensed.

"(Y/N)," he sighed, deflating a bit when he realized what exactly she had gotten herself stuck in, "What happened, sweet girl?"

He stepped towards her, his own arms sparkling with sweat and hands dirty from digging through the garden. Though he had a small hair clip fastened to the edge of his shirt, he left his curls to run wild, a few loose ones falling over his forehead. His skin looked especially tan under the sun, freckles dotting his skin with his tattoos deep and dark across his muscles.

"I was chasing her," she explained, feeling a bit silly now that she had to say it out loud as he pointed at the shimmering butterfly flying high in the sky.

"Yeah?" Harry laughed, his pink lips stretching into a smile, "And that got y'stuck in the roses?"

"I thought I could catch her," (Y/N) offered, looking down towards her legs, "But, now I think I'm bleeding."

Just then, it seemed to register to Harry that the flowers she got herself wrapped up in her roses, complete with thorns.

"Shit," he murmured, reaching a dirt smudged hand out to her, "I didn't even realize, (Y/N), 'm sorry. C'mere."

Taking his hand, she braced herself for the feeling of more paper-cut like slices being made over her legs. She hissed as she tried to step out of the bush, Harry's grip on her hand steadying.

"'M sorry, 'm sorry, 'm sorry," he recited as her face twisted at the feel of the thorns scratching at her legs, catching on her skirt and tennis shoes.

"It's okay," she assured him, stepping both feet onto the solid grass with a rough kick of her foot to dislodge it from the thorns.

Harry steadied her with his hands on her biceps, standing far enough away that he could assess the damage on her legs. Looking down, (Y/N) saw the tiny scratches littering her legs. Some were nothing more than a raised red line, the skin unbroken, while others were deep with blood running in small rivers down her skin. There were even small droplets that had marred the hem of her previously creamy white skirt.

"Oh, (Y/N)," Harry crooned, his eyes rounding out as he looked at the mess she'd made, "Let's get y'cleaned up."

Leading her back inside the cottage, they passed the pile of vegetables Harry had to have abandoned in his effort to get to her as soon as possible. While she wanted to feel guilt over distracting him over something so trivial and completely her fault, when she saw the stretch of his shoulders in front of her, arms bare from his sleeveless top, she let those thoughts dissipate. His attention wasn't something she was going to regret catching.

"Is there any kind of band aids here?" Harry mused, taking her through the kitchen with his steps slowing.

"Maybe in my bathroom? I'm not sure—I never really looked." And, she wasn't currently looking either. She'd never seen the small palm tree inked on the back of his arm before. It was cute.

Diligent as ever, Harry led her through to her bedroom. He deposited her on the edge of her bed, mumbling for her to wait right there for him before he was heading towards the bathroom in search of anything to clean her up. With her hands in her lap, one of them with the phantom of Harry's touch warm against her palm, she heard him rifle through the cabinets.

Soon enough, after hearing the sink run and all the cabinets dropping closed at least twice, he emerged with a small navy blue bag, the flap top opened with Harry's scrutinizing eyes going through the contents. "There isn't much," he mused, "but I can get you cleaned up and the worst ones wrapped up."

"Thank you," (Y/N) smiled sheepishly, feeling every bit the child that gave into the urge to chase bugs around the garden, "Sorry."

"Don't be," Harry countered immediately, "I would have chased her too if I hadn't been busy." Kneeling at her feet, he laid the kit at his side, with his now dirt-free fingers pushing through the supplies. He plucked out a roll of individual alcohol wipes, ripping open the first in the pack with a concentrated set in his features. "I didn't even know butterflies could be purple."

"Me neither," (Y/N) chirped, goosebumps rising over her skin at the feel of the cold wipe gliding across. A slight burn lingered after he swiped over her cuts, the pad growing marred with drops of blood. "I thought I had gotten away from the roses before I started after her."

"Jus' gotta be more careful, that's all," he told her, his voice a small mutter as he concentrated. He worked over her calves, getting the small droplets that had worked down her skin and cleaning the barely there grazes. His hands were gentle as he worked over her skin, holding her steady with glances of his skin over hers. Moving up her legs, he slowly parted them as he made his way up towards her thighs where snags now appeared in the fabric of her skirt with crimson spots marring the creamy white.

Harry stopped at the inside of her knees. He looked up at her with hooded eyes, fluttering lashes framing the forest of his irises. (Y/N) was brought back to the day of the 132 Gala, Harry helping her into her shoes, but not before explicitly asking for permission. He handled her much like that day with lingering holds and soft hands, completely unhurried as he steadied her and appraised her like a diamond.

She watched as he ran his tongue over his lips. "Is it alright if I go higher?" he murmured, gaze intense on hers. His hands were stopped on her knees, not going an inch higher.

(Y/N) nodded. "It's okay."

It wasn't until he helped her spread her legs, her skirt tightening across the plush skin, that she realized she might have given the wrong answer. Under her skirt was nothing more than a soft pair of panties, the fabric a shiny blush with a white rosette stitched to the waistband. With the way Harry was going to have to push and prod around the hem of her skirt, wiping at the highest cuts, there was no way he wouldn't notice.

She must not have hidden her nerves well with the way Harry's hand placed just above her knee squeezed the plush of her thigh. He blinked up at her, brows raised. "Y'alright?" he asked, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, "Am I hurting you?"

"No, no," she shook her head, her mind running for an excuse, "I just didn't realize I had some so high up."

Harry frowned at her words, focusing his attention on the graze sliced across the top of her thigh. "I know, I'm sorry, sweet girl. I'll get y'cleaned up quick."

True to his word, Harry resumed his work. Pushing up her skirt that much more, he cleaned the highest of her cuts while his other hand kept her spread legs steady. The pad of his thumb circled the inside of her knee, a distracting touch. That would be perfect, (Y/N) thought, if his touch wasn't the exact thing she needed a distraction from.

"Last one," he murmured, pulling out a clean alcohol wipe as he tackled the biggest of the cuts on her thigh, a swipe of blood marring the soft skin on the inside. This sting was more noticeable than the rest, (Y/N) rolling her lips between her teeth to keep from pouting like a child at the stinging feeling. Once all cleaned, Harry leant forward, pressing a delicate kiss to the skin just below the graze. "There," he declared, "Jus' need to bandage the worst of them, then you're all done."

(Y/N) wanted to be paying attention, truly. She was grateful to Harry tending to her superficial wounds and being so kind, but her brain was too busy running miles away into fantasy land.

He'd kissed her thigh like it was nothing. He kissed her thigh like he didn't know it would get her squirming in her spot, goosebumps to pop over her skin, and her head to get a little foggy. She hadn't forgotten the second time he had kissed her, the way they clung to one another on the couch, her body in his lap and his cock hard under her core. He couldn't just touch her so sweetly, reaching up under her skirt and holding her thighs open without (Y/N) inching closer and closer to losing her mind.

She couldn't remember the last time a man she actually liked had touched her like this, someone who had intentions of staying for longer than a night and who knew her for more than what the tabloids said. Maybe that was why she had to fist her hands in her lap to keep from reaching for him, tensing her thighs to keep from squirming, and averting her gaze from his to keep from pouncing on him.

It only took a moment of rifling through the ill-equipped first aid bag before she felt his hands back on her skin. Tiny bandages had been pulled from the package, a single found pinched between Harry's fingers.

"Gotta stay still for me, (Y/N)," he murmured, concentrating on a cut just above her knee.

"Sorry," she rushed, trying her best to keep from clenching her thighs and squirming in her spot. With the warmth she felt between her legs, this was proving to be a harder task than she anticipated.

When she still couldn't seem to stay still, Harry slipped his free hand underneath her thigh, his palm pressed to the back with his fingertips denting the plush skin. "I don't want to mess up, (Y/N)," he reminded her, voice a tad firm, "Stay still, then I promise I'll be fast."

"I can't!" she blurted out, already regretting the outburst as soon as the air left her lungs.

Harry stopped what he was doing, looking at her with raised brows and wide eyes. His grip on her loosened though his hand stayed right where it was, warmed underneath her thigh.

"Why not?" he gently prodded, concern dripping from his tone.

There was no articulate way to describe what was going through her mind. She wasn't even sure if she wanted to share with him what exactly had brought her to this state, but she wasn't sure if she was really going to have a choice against the unwavering eye contact he was giving her. It was the same way he looked at her when he told her he cared about her, just wanted her happy. How could she deny the truth to eyes like that?

"You," she decided on, zipping her lips as soon as the syllable was out.

Pausing, Harry processed her answer. "Me? Y'can't stay still because of me, but you're also not hurting?"

(Y/N) gave him a short nod.

A pinch appeared between his brows. "I don't think I understand."

How he couldn't understand his effect on her was beyond (Y/N)'s comprehension. He was sitting between her legs on his knees, with her skirt pushed precariously up her thighs and his hands gently caressing swaths of her skin, and he didn't understand? Would she have to pull her skirt up entirely and show off what exactly his touch did to her?

Suddenly, his expression fell the longer (Y/N) stayed quiet. His hand under her thigh wiggled away, cutting contact with her skin.

"(Y/N)," he started, his voice soft and apologetic, "I thought y'promised me you'd always tell me if something was making you uncomfortable."

"No, no, no—that's not it!" she bubbled off, reaching out to take his hand and placing it back on her thigh. "You're not making me uncomfortable at all. I like how you're touching me." Her skin burned as she processed her own panicked words. "I think I like it too much considering you're only cleaning me up after I hurt myself."

Realization seemed to dawn on him then. His gaze dropped to his hand on her thigh, practicing that touch she praised with a flex of his fingers against her skin. She gave way under his grip, soft dents appearing under his fingertips. With all of her scrapes freshened up, he was left with a view of clean skin before him, a canvas for him to paint his hands across.

"Want me to keep touching you?" he asked, voice decidedly lower than she last heard.

She worried her bottom lip between her teeth. She couldn't remember the last time someone made her nervous the way Harry did. How did she say yes without saying yes?

"O-Only if you want to." That was fine enough, she thought.

Harry kept his eyes on his hand as it slowly slid up the expanse of her thigh. "I want to," he cemented, "I think I have an idea of how to make y'feel better. Y'jus' tell me if you change your mind."

(Y/N)'s mouth ran dry at his words, drawing her hands from her lap to lay at her sides as he placed both his hands high up her thighs. With the way he spread her legs before, he was able to easily fit between them. His fingertips disappeared underneath the hem of her skirt, his eyes on her as if awaiting any kind of objection to his touch. When none came, he continued up until she felt him nudge the waistline of her panties.

Her breath caught in her throat, hands fisting the bedding on either side of her.

"This okay?" he murmured.

"Uh-huh."

Hooking his fingertips underneath the band of her underwear, he dragged down the small article over the length of her legs. There was a moment of lag as he tugged, the seat of her panties sticking to her folds. (Y/N) wanted to be mortified when she saw just how sodden the center was, full of her reaction to the most gentle of touches. But, that thought went out of her head when she saw the way Harry gazed at the moisture, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

He helped her shuck the underwear from her legs before he bunched her skirt at her waist, leaving nothing in the way of his view. The warmth of his palms pressed against the inside of her thighs, keeping her legs spread wide open for him. The broad of his shoulders were the perfect wedge he helped her drape her calves over, blinking his eyes up to match her own as if he awaited her objection.

When none came, he pressed a delicate kiss to the inside of her knee. (Y/N)'s hands clenched in the bedding at her sides. The tip of his nose skimmed over her skin in a fleeting pass, following after his lips as he grazed up the inside of her thigh. She could feel her insides twisting at the feel of his breath fanned over her skin, enough to take her own breath away. He had her already and he'd barely touched her in more than a few light grazes and fleeting touches.

Harry dragged his lips up the inside of her thigh, smearing kiss after kiss until he reached the very highest point before her pussy. (Y/N) could feel herself clench just at the fact he was so close. He lingered there, his eyes hooded with his spit-slicked lips parting just enough for his teeth to glance over the soft skin.

"Wh-Why'd you stop?" (Y/N) pressed, her thoughts coming out of her mouth before she had even made the decision to speak.

She could feel him smiling against the sensitive spot, his teeth giving a sharp nip before he pulled away. He looked at her with hooded eyes, fanned lashes and dilated pupils. "Want me to keep going, sweet girl?"

His voice was a rumble against her. Maybe she was imagining it, but she swore she could feel the depth of his voice fanning over her core, wetness dripping down.

With her bottom lip worried between her teeth, she nodded her head. Baby hairs fluttered around her face, the messy updo she did with her clip not holding as well as she needed, though she didn't really find it in herself to care. As long as it didn't take away from her view in front of her, she didn't care about anything else.

The smile he gave her was a lopsided curl she was so familiar with. "I'm gonna make you happy, love," he murmured, hooking his hands underneath her thighs until they fit just under the curve of her ass, "Don't worry."

Dipping his head down, (Y/N) could feel the ghost of his touch settle over her core, his breath fanning over her silken skin. She couldn't take her eyes away, especially not when he placed a tentative kiss just above her slit. She shuddered at the touch, the graze not nearly enough but still eliciting a zip through her spine.

Glancing up at her through his lashes, Harry was spurred on by whatever he saw on her face—whether that be the dazed eyes, the gaped lips, or the warm skin, she wasn't sure. He planted a harder kiss to the same spot, his chin pressed against her folds. He gauged her reaction, squeezing his hands underneath her thighs as he dipped lower over her core.

The first graze of his lips over her clit was enough to have a small hitch hinder (Y/N)'s breath. He didn't do anything more than a quick peck over the bud, but it was enough to have her toes curling in her tennis shoes.

Parting his lips, he took her clit between them, kissing and licking at the peak. She almost crumbled then, feeling her throat run dry while her core grew even wetter. She practically strangled the bedding in her hands, the linen stretching around the length of her nails.

His hands around her thighs clenched, keeping them open as his fingertips dented the plush skin. He snaked his tongue out and laved a stripe up through her folds. (Y/N) fell into stunned silence, nothing leaving her mouth as her lungs were stunted, giving Harry his turn to moan against her folds. He spread her wetness around with his tongue, wet sounds filling the sunshine filled cottage.

Harry no longer had his eyes flitting to her face, his lids fluttering to a close as he sunk himself into the moment with her. Instead, he focused solely on pushing his tongue through her folds, skimming her entrance, and ensuring his face was tucked tight against her center. She could feel the mush of his nose against her clit, his chin growing slick with every wag of his head against her. He kissed and licked and sucked on her pussy, taking everything there was to be offered.

(Y/N)'s breathing came out in heavy pants, lingering and hot, as she could focus on nothing more than his touch and the way he explored her body. Every press of his nose against her clit or sucking kiss he gave to her folds was enough to have her head spinning, her balance shifting as if she were only a second away from falling back onto the mattress. But she couldn't do that, she had to pointedly remind herself, because she wanted to see him. She wanted to see Harry as he worked on her, hair in swirling curls with sunlight pouring through to highlight him in gold. She wanted to see the way his brows furrowed and cheeks hollowed when he sucked on her clit or gave a particularly heavy kiss to her hole. She wanted to see him enjoy her.

His hair was a mess on the top of his head from tending to the garden, anyway, but the way he threw himself between her thighs was enough agitation to have those curls dropping over his forehead. He didn't pay them any mind, instead drawing away just enough to give her a handful of long licks through her folds. (Y/N)'s thighs clenched at the pressure of his heavy tongue over her cunt, heavy wet sounds being compounded by the absent moans Harry let out as he tasted her.

Unraveling her hand from the sheets, (Y/N) racked her nails through his hair, keeping the strands out of his face and out of her view of him. She didn't want to miss a single detail; she didn't want to miss the flush that came to his nose with the tip sodden, the rosy glow that blushed his cheeks, the way he couldn't seem to get enough of her even when she could feel his panting breaths for more air.

At the feel of her hand going through his curls, Harry fluttered his eyes open for the first time since sinking between her thighs. He saw her through dazed eyes. Whatever he gauged from her expression, he must have liked it if his lips curled into a smile, his tongue liking up her slit.

Her feet dangling over his back pressed into his shoulder blades, keeping him close as he started kissing over her clit in harsh presses once more. He was much too proud of himself, she could see, but she couldn't blame him. He had barely started and she was already short of breath, whimpering, and scratching at his hair. Even the bouquet of roses on the bedside table seemed to want a closer look, petals falling from the buds down to the floor at his feet.

"H-Harry," she cried, her grip in his hair tightening when his tongue dared to press against her entrance.

"'M here, sweet girl, 'm here," he mumbled, his voice thick and heady.

He barely had enough time to get his words out before he was prodding at her hole once more. He watched her reaction as he did so, hesitating for only a second when he saw her lashes flutter through her blink. As soon as he had her eyes on him once more, he pushed through, slipping his tongue inside.

Pressing deep, she could feel the length of his tongue against her walls, slick and heavy as he tasted her like wine. His nose was smushed against her clit, nudging and circling with every shift and tilt of his head.

Her brain was jumbled, (Y/N) throwing her head back on instinct. "Oh mon Dieu," she slurred, slipping into French as a reflex.

Harry stuttered in his movements only to let out a loud moan against her, the sound vibrating through her core. He resumed his efforts tenfold when he recovered.

This was enough, (Y/N) thought. The pressure against her clit, the tight hold on her thighs, the way his tongue wriggled inside her pressing and licking one her most sensitive spots. He was taking all of her, touching, worshipping, coveting every bit of her that he could get his hands on.

Her heels dug into his back, thighs unable to close around his head through she did still try. She kept him close, her hole pulsing around his tongue in an effort to keep him near.

"I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum," (Y/N) whimpered, feeling desperate as she teetered the edge.

Harry blinked up at her, eyes dark and vignetted with thick lashes. He didn't ease up at her declaration, continuing to give her more and more.

The final straw came in the form of him shaking his head, his tongue deep inside her with his nose nudging against her clit. (Y/N)'s eyes rolled to the back of her head, her hand in his hair tugging at the roots, and her feet digging into the plains of his back.

Her eyes watered at the intense rush sinking through her form, unable to remember a time she could ever recall feeling this much with anyone. She fought to keep her eyes on him as she came, her stomach tight and unyielding and more wetness seeped around his tongue. Harry took it all in stride, luxuriating in the feel like a devout follower taking whatever their deity would give.

(Y/N) came down in a mess of sparkling skin and rouge hairs, her bottom lashes clumping with the moisture from unshed tears. Her system was shot, fingers cramping as she uncurled them from his hair.

Harry took his time to separate from her, dragging his tongue through her sodden folds with his own wet face glimmering in the light. (Y/N) jumped at the overstimulation that came from his absent lick, Harry huffing out a small laugh at her reaction. He backed away just enough, looking at the mess he made on her with her cum and his saliva having been spread over her lips and towards the inside of her thighs. His own breathing was heavy as he took her all in, eyes distant and dark.

"Harry?" (Y/N) murmured, her voice small and shaky as she found her footing in the real world.

Brought back to reality, he blinked up at her, that bleary film clearing from his gaze. He took her in wit his expression going smug. "Yeah? Y'alright?"

She bit back a smile as she brought her hand back through his hair, only to push him away. "You're the worst," she laughed, not meaning a single word of what she said. "Come here."

Using the hem of his shirt, Harry wiped his face as he stood to the full of his height. (Y/N)'s shaky legs stayed wide open for him, even as he adjusted her skirt to fall over her thighs. The open space allowed him to plant himself atop her as he pushed her to lay flat on her back with his hands on either side of her head, palms flat and pressing into the mattress. He hovered above her, his gaze clearing despite the fact she could feel his own arousal pressing against her hip. He was observing her again, taking in each of her features and the minute expression and twitches muscle gave.

"Really, this time," he started, voice a quiet secret between the two of them, "Are y'alright? I made you happy?"

Looping her arms around his neck, (Y/N) didn't try to hide the smile that crossed her features and squinted her eyes. "You did," she beamed, "Really happy."

"Good," he settled, using one of his hands to cup her cheek before leaning down and pressing an affectionate kiss to her lips.

He lingered there, resting his forehead against hers as he slipped his fingertips into the soft strands at her hairline. He basked in the afterglow with her, remaining until (Y/N) no longer heard the sound of her heartbeat in her ears.

"'M gonna clean you up, okay?" he said, planting one more kiss on the bridge of her nose before he started backing away from her.

"Wait," (Y/N) bubbled before he could make it too far away.

Stopping where he stood, he looked to her with raised brows. (Y/N) felt his eyes on her as she reached for one of the short-stemmed roses that had been sitting on the bedside table, the bloom ripe and full. The greenery was clear of all thorns, making it perfect for the job she had in mind.

With Harry just close enough, she was able to reach and place the rose behind his ear, nestling it amongst the curls. The petals caressed his temple, velveteen soft and deep red against his tanned skin.

Harry gave her a soft-lipped smile.

"That's what y'needed to stop me for?" he asked, bringing his hand up to brush his fingers over the petals.

"I've always wanted to do that," she smiled, gazing affectionately up at him.

Harry only shook his head with a fond smile on his lips, dimples and all. He kept the rose in his hair for the rest of the day.

—————

(Y/N) swore she could feel her blood running ice cold as she looked at the photo laying on the coffee table.

She was still dressed in her pajamas, breakfast nothing more than prepped ingredients on the kitchen counter. The time hadn't even blinked passed nine-thirty.

Harry was already sweeping through the space, his phone pressed to his ear as he argued with whoever was on the other line. (Y/N) thought it was her father, but she couldn't remember. Harry had said something about arranging a way to fly back to New York as soon as possible, but she hadn't heard a single syllable of the details.

She couldn't think about anything other than the photo in front of her.

Having been taken through a window, in perfect detail, was a photo of Harry laying atop (Y/N) with his lips sealed against hers. She was laid under him in her linen skirt, hair a mess, with her eyes closed in gentle bliss. Harry's sleeveless shirt showed all of his muscles, including the sheen of sweat that had collected over his skin.

The photo had to have been taken days ago, right after Harry had been on his knees between her legs. The worst of her fear came from the fact that she couldn't rule out the possibility that whoever had taken this also had photos of what happened just before this kiss.

Slashed across the top in stark red ink was a declaration labeling (Y/N) a BITCH.

The whole thing was unhinged and terrifying.

Neither of them noticed anyone outside, and there was no telling just how long they'd been found out.

She wanted to cry the longer she looked at it.

This person took a special moment from her, shrouded it in something evil and degrading.

Harry paced about the cottage, her duffle bag in hand as he repacked everything in sight. His features were severe as he spoke in rushed commands, his voice having no give compared to the way he spoke to her.

"I do not care," he muttered, "She's not staying here. We're coming back to the city now, and you're going to help us."

With that, he hung up the call. He didn't slow down as he bundled each of her belongings into her bags, his own already stashed away.

"Harry?" (Y/N) whispered, her voice just a note away from breaking.

"Yes?" he asserted, zipping up her bag without looking at her.

(Y/N) didn't know what to say, she just wanted him. She was scared, her lip quivering as tears pricked her eyes. She didn't want to look at the photo anymore, didn't want to analyze what someone could be thinking to the degree that made them think that this was okay.

He finally slowed when she didn't answer him. He took in a deep breath before looking at her, eyes softening the second he took in her appearance.

"(Y/N)," he sighed, crossing the room in large strides until he was lowering to one knee. "'S going to be alright, okay? I promise you." Harry took her hands in his, his grip tight and absolute.

Her fingers were stiff as she reciprocated his hold, trying her best to keep from shaking. "Why would someone do this?" she cried to him, eyes burning with tears, "Th-That picture—We—"

"I know, I know," he soothed her, his thumbs running circles over the backs of her hands. She could tell he was putting exponential amounts of effort into keeping his cool. "We're going home today, okay? Then we're going to do something about this. I don't know how, but we're going to make this stop, okay? No one's going to keep doing this to you."

Tears fled down her cheeks then. She shook her head, her expression crumpling. "Th-They did it to you, too," (Y/N) sobbed, "They're taking stuff from you now, too."

Harry didn't hesitate to bundle her against his chest, taking her form where she was sitting on the couch and into his arms. She cried into his neck, mourning the privacy she had curated with him and the fact that she couldn't protect him nearly as well as he could for her. It was scary enough to have someone taking terribly personal pictures of her, but it was now her fault that she had dragged Harry in, with no way out.

If that person had photos of them in the middle of the act, Harry's life could be ruined. Her stalker was obviously angry enough at the both of them now to do something worse than just following her around and invading privacy.

"Don't worry about me," he crooned to her, nosing at the top of her head, "'M going to be okay, 'm only worried about you."

"B-But—"

"Don't," he stopped her, his voice firm with his ever-soft hold, "'M going to be okay, (Y/N). You are the only person that can be hurt in this, and 'm not going to let that happen. But, we have to go, okay?"

He pulled away just enough to look at her, cry-swollen eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Her view of him was blurry and refracted. She clung to him even harder.

"I don't want to be here anymore," she breathed, trying to clear her gaze against the mounting tears.

Harry dipped his head down and pressed a harsh kiss to her cheek, nose skimming her skin. "I've got you, sweet girl," he promised, "'M going to take you home and we'll make you safe."

(Y/N) clung to him, ignoring everything else in the room. She knew there was a photo degrading her, her father angry on the other side of the world, and a cottage that she really hoped she could still look on fondly after this.

"I've got you, (Y/N)."

And, she believed him.

—————

The flight back to New York had been a tearful one, but since touching down on the tarmac, Harry hadn't left (Y/N)'s side for anything. He had taken up residence in her apartment, sleeping at her side when either of them managed to find the peace to do as much. He cooked with her, supported her, and calmed her in the night now that there was a real threat lingering around them.

Harry had been shocked to see the amount of letters she had been hoarding, majority without the seal having been even picked at. There was only a thin amount of composure that kept him together when he leafed through the pages, glossy photos that even (Y/N) hadn't peeked at hinging his jaw tighter with each picture. The letters were the worst. Harry had to lock himself in the guest room as he read them, unwilling to share his reaction to the disgusting things this person dared to type out about her, only coming out when he had calmed and was able to think rationally.

"We have to do something—there has to be something we can do with these. There's so many," he had told her after, his shoulders tightly set with his arms heavy across his chest.

(Y/N) had sat across from him, hands pathetically limp in her lap.

"I don't know if there's much we can do," she had murmured, her brows knitted into a worried stitch, "I looked into it once. Since I don't know who's sending them and they've never tried to hurt me, there's not a lot that anyone will do."

She remembered the way his hands had formed into fists under his arms, as she spoke, heavy and white-knuckled. His knee bounced as his unfocused eyes blinked off in the distance.

"We can file something at least, right?"

(Y/N) gave a small nod, remembering the limited options she had researched way back in the beginning. "A police report. It won't do much, but it stays on record in case something more... serious happens."

His jaw seemingly hinged tighter at her quiet words.

"Then that's what we're going to do," he decided. The gears in his head kept turning, an absent nod bobbing Harry's head. "Reports like that are public," he mused, a plan coming together as he spoke aloud, "Someone will pick up on it, some magazine or whoever will post about it—they love stuff like this. That might be enough to scare this person off, knowing you're doing something about it now."

Rolling her lips between her teeth, (Y/N) found herself stuck on the word public. "Will the pictures be out there, too?"

Flashing his gaze up to her, he matched her eyes intensely. He knew what photos she had in mind.

"No. I'll make sure they're not."

She didn't doubt that Harry would keep his word. When he was cemented in an idea, he was too stubborn to let up.

"You think this will scare them?"

"I can't be sure," he admitted, "But, I think it's something. Obviously, ignoring them isn't working, so maybe letting them know that you're not going to let it happen anymore will make them reconsider."

While she felt more comfortable ignoring this person—this problem—, she knew he was right. Despite not feeding into whatever delusion they had, it wasn't enough to make them move on. There had to be some kind of pushback.

Slowly nodding her head, (Y/N) let go of her lingering hesitations. "Okay," she breathed, "How do we do this?"

Harry rolled his neck. "I think we need every bit of evidence we have, and we take it to someone who can help. From there, they'll tell us what we can do, 'm sure."

"Okay," she repeated, "I have more letters at my father's house."

"Yeah? Where?"

(Y/N) shrugged. "Somewhere in my bedroom. We should probably get those too, right?"

"Probably," Harry agreed, though she was sure he was just as hesitant as she about running into her father.

Even though he was well aware of the fact she was back in the city considering the jet had been chartered to get her home, her father hadn't reached out to her at all. She didn't remember exactly what had been going on between he and Harry when they were on the phone together back at the cottage, only vaguely remembering the way Harry had shouted at him and hung up. He knew she was back here, knew that something severe enough happened that she had to flee Paris, but not even a text had been sent.

He didn't even care enough to be angry at her.

"But, we'll go together, okay?" Harry had murmured to her, taking her out of her head. (Y/N) remembered the way he leant across the dining table to reach out for her, cupping her cheek and running his thumb along the height of her cheekbone. "I'll be there. We won't even talk to him, if you don't want to."

"I don't want to," (Y/N) answered immediately.

Harry breathed out a laugh at her automatic response.

"That's what we'll do."

It was days later that they ended up at the front door of her father's mansion. Sully was going to be waiting in the drive, car running, promising that as soon as (Y/N) was ready to leave, there would be no lag on his end. Harry was at her side, his hand clasped in hers while she shakily input the door code to twist the locks.

Her father was given no heads up to her visit, hoping he would be out for the afternoon anyway. She worried if he knew that she was coming to snoop for more letters that he would do something with them, or somehow convince her that going through with Harry's plan was the wrong thing to do. She didn't want to risk either outcome, instead barging through the mansion with her heels clacking over the marble floor up to her room.

Harry was her silent pillar of support, following after her the whole way. He stood back and watched as she took them to her teenage bedroom, unearthing the hidden compartment under her bed that her friends used to use to hide alcohol. Instead of tiny bottles of liquor, under the floorboard were now letters addressed to her with no return label. These were the few she had ever read before she retired the act, their seals broken with photos (Y/N) remembered as if she had seen them only yesterday.

There were only a handful that were here before they started showing at her apartment, whoever had been stalking her finally realizing that she didn't live with her father like they had assumed.

"Okay," (Y/N) started, fishing out the last of the envelopes, "I think that's all of the—"

"What are you doing?!"

That was her father's voice that boomed through the room, causing (Y/N) to jump where she was kneeling on the floor.

Turning to face him, her heart in her throat, she saw Harry had sprung into action, stepping between the two of them as her shield.

"We were jus' about to leave," Harry said, voice resolute and unwavering, "Right, (Y/N)?"

That was her cue to collect her things and scurry away before her father could get any more involved.

"Right," she peeped, grabbing her purse and the letters before standing to her feet.

She didn't dare look at her father as she came to stand at Harry's side, allowing him to take the lead and get her out of here before her father's next words had her panicking in her tracks.

"Are those the letters?"

She had hoped he hadn't seen them.

"Ignore him," Harry whispered to her, tossing an arm over her shoulder as they brushed past him and out of her bedroom.

"(Y/N)! Do not ignore me, are those the letters I told you to forget about?! Why are you taking them?!" Her father chased after them, his anger rising the longer he garnered no reaction. "What are you doing with them?! You can't take them from my house!"

Despite it being his very own advice he was going against, Harry couldn't seem to stand by any longer when it came to the way her father treated her. Reaching the landing of the staircase, Harry turned to face her father head-on as he followed, going toe-to-toe with him. Her father stumbled back.

"We're actually going to do something about it," Harry grumbled back, his words biting and sharp, "They're hers, and we're taking them. We'll make sure to mention that you insisted that she never share them either—maybe add you in for some kind of coverup if it comes to it."

Though she could see her father trying to stay hardened, keep from showing Harry that anything he said was getting to him, but she saw the signs. Color leached from his face, his lips thinning just enough. His fingers twitched.

"You don't need to report this, (Y/N)," he called, switching tactics and speaking around Harry. "I don't know what he's been telling you, but you don't need to worry about this. You're going to regret overreacting like this."

She could see Harry gearing up for a grating response, but she beat him to it.

"No, I'm not," she cemented, her voice nowhere near as concrete as Harry's no matter how hard she tried, "Th-This isn't some fan, or admirer, or whatever you called it before. This person is stalking me, and taking private pictures of me, and saying terrible things. I want this to stop, I don't care if you don't like it.'

Her father gritted his teeth where he stood behind the barricade that was Harry. A beat passed before he eyed both she and her bodyguard—a man on his payroll. "Come to my office."

He turned swiftly, leaving them behind as he scaled the stairs. Harry turned to her with a neutral expression, thinly veiling the chattering anger the interaction had left in him. "We don't have to," he reminded her, "We can leave now."

While the smartest part of her knew Harry was presenting her with the best choice, to take the letters and leave while he was stupid enough to turn his back on them, there was another part of her that was intrigued by his reaction. Her father was a calculating man when it came to everything but her. With his daughter, he was always reactionary before rational. The invitation to his office was something that her curiosity urged her not to ignore.

There was no way he had any real part in this, right? Harry threatening to add him into the conspiracy was nothing more than a rage-fueled bluff, so why did he seem so rattled by the idea?

"I-I think we need to see what he has to say," (Y/N) murmured.

"You're sure?" Harry pressed, face staying neutral.

She swallowed. "No, but I feel like I have to know what he wants to say."

Harry rolled his lips between his teeth before giving her a curt nod. "Okay," he told her, reaching his hand out for hers, "I trust you—if you think we need to hear this, then we'll go. But, if things change, 'm taking you out right away."

(Y/N) didn't hesitate to agree to the conditions, taking his hand. There was a huge chance she was wrong about this, that this was nothing more than the little girl inside of her pining for her daddy's affection and hoped that doing what he asked would earn her just that. She needed Harry to be there to take the lead if things went south.

The trail to his office seemed longer than ever. The door was left wide pen with her father already seated at his desk, hands clasped and eyes calculating and cold. She took a seat across from him while Harry stayed on his feet at her side.

"What do I have to give you to leave those letters behind and do nothing with the others I know you have?" her father opened, his voice detached.

"What?" she deadpanned in response, her grip tightening on the letters.

"What do you want?" he pressed once more, enunciating every word as if that was the problem with this situation, "If you leave the letters here, and don't make any kind of report or talk to any press, I will give you whatever you want. Name your price."

Silence filled the room like a heavy blanket, (Y/N) just barely able to keep her mouth from falling open in shock.

"Are you kidding me? Are you actually joking right now, or are you seriously asking me this?" That complete detachment she had felt for years had thinned, allowing every bit of bubbling rage she had kept siphoned away to rise to the surface.

"(Y/N)," he snapped, "Now is not the time for an attitude. I want to know what it will take to get you to stop obsessing ove—"

"I'm obsessed? Me? You have to be fucking joking." She almost wanted to laugh. This was a terrible comedy, too dark for her liking. "I have someone following me around, taking pictures of me all the time—even when my boyfriend is going down on me. You can't think for a single second about anything other than yourself and how you look to your idiot country club friends and investors. But, I'm the one that's obsessed? Because I'm tired of being taken advantage of? Because I feel like I deserve privacy and the opportunity to think for myself?"

It was satisfying watching the way he flinched at her words, most notably so when she spat out the fact that there were photos of her in a compromising position with Harry. At her side, Harry's hands were clenched into fists.

"You don't understand," he pushed once recovering, "Let it go, (Y/N)."

"No!" she shouted, feeling her skin heat, "I'm not letting this go!" She was tired of him condescending her and thinking for her despite the fact she was a grown woman who never even depended on him as a child.

Her father visibly began to boil over, his jaw clenching and nose flaring as he looked at her. "(Y/N)," he hissed, "You need to think. There are people who will be very upset if you keep pursuing this, a—"

"That's really what this is all about?! You're protecting your image? Over me?! You're a fucking coward, I—"

Her father slammed his fist into the top of his desk, the sound reverberating through the room before he shouted: "That's not what this is about, (Y/N)! I could lose a lot if you report Damien, an—"

"Damien?" (Y/N) blanched. From the corner of her eye, she could see Harry's patience thinning. This conversation had flown south enough that he could pull her at any second. But, she couldn't leave now, not when her father brought up Damien Moore out of thin air. "What do you mean if I report Damien?"

The outburst seemed to catch up with him then, his breathing going heavy with his eyes wide. "I misspoke," he tried to recover, suddenly backtracking, "I didn't mean to say his name—"

"Yes, you did," While her father was an idiot, he was very calculating when it came to his thought process. He never did things by accident. "Why did you bring up Damien?"

Everyone knew the answer to her question. She just wanted to hear him say it.

"(Y/N)," he started, his eyes closing with his jaw rotating.

"You knew it was him this whole time?" she pressed, her voice decidedly smaller than the shouting from before. "You've been covering for him. That's why you never wanted me to say anything."

Her father didn't say a word, not even a blink in her direction.

The longer (Y/N) looked at him the less and less he looked like the man that she used to follow around in hopes of catching his attention. He didn't look like the man she idolized when she was a child. She didn't recognize him anymore.

"You left me scared for years all so you could keep his dad's money," she continued, the gravity of the situation sinking into her bones. Her eyes burned as she looked at him. "I hate you."

That seemed to snap her father back into reality, his eyes sharp when he matched hers. "Watch your mouth," he spat, standing from behind his desk, "You do not get to disrespect me in my home, you litt—"

Harry stepped in immediately. He effectively cut her father's view of her, his hand harshly landing on the older man's shoulder before pushing him to sit back down once more.

"Sit," Harry commanded as if speaking to a dog.

Her father flustered at the interference, taken aback that anyone would have the audacity to do anything to keep him from degrading her.

"I don't know who you think you are, but sleeping with my daughter doesn't me—"

"You don't get to talk to him," (Y/N) shot off, cutting off her father.

More than anything, he couldn't seem to wrap his head around the fact that either of them were daring to talk back to him, to stop him in his tracks.

"I could ruin you, you know," (Y/N) started, gaining the full of her father's attention, "I have more on you than anyone else—I could go to the press and you would be over."

"No one would believe you."

"Maybe not, but people love a story. The crazier the better, right? It would be everywhere." (Y/N) steeled her grip on the letters. "I could end you and Damien so fast. You would have nothing."

She watched the way her father seemed to realize the fact that he truly held no power in any of this. (Y/N) had all the cards and he was going to bend to her will, whether he liked it or not.

"What do you want, then? My offer still stands: leave the letters and keep your mouth shut, and whatever you want is yours."

"I don't want anything from you. I just want this to stop, I want him to stop taking pictures of me—or hiring people to, or whatever it is that he does."

"I can do that," was her father's swift response, "I'll make it all stop. You have to leave the letters and promise that you won't say a single word to anyone."

"We're not promising anything," Harry piped up, taking the words out of his (Y/N)'s mouth. She wasn't in the mood to compromise for anything.

Her father's anger peeked out once more then. "Why should I do anything for you, then?"

"Because I said so."

That had his steely gaze shifting to land on her, hard and unforgiving.

That was exactly the same thing that he used to tell (Y/N) when she would question him. She was the one giving orders now and there was no room left to argue. He would listen because she said so, and there was no other option she was going to accept.

The standoff between them continued with unwavering eye contact until her father glanced at the letters in her hand. He crumbled then. She held everything this time.

"Fine," he spat. "I trust that you're going to do the right thing, (Y/N). Just as I am."

"Right," she settled, unwilling to give any more energy to this man.

She stood from her seat, gently placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. His eyes were still blazing when they met hers.

"Let's go," she told him.

That was all it took for Harry to disconnect himself from the interaction, taking his hand in hers and following her lead out of the office.

No words were shared or glances cast backwards as they made their way out of the mansion (Y/N) used to live in. Outside, Sully waited just as he promised he would.

Harry opened the backdoor for her, helping her slide in first before he followed closely behind.

"Back to your apartment, Ms. (Y/N)?" Sully asked, already pulling out of the driveway.

"Yes, please," Harry answered for her, helping her buckle into her seat before silence rained down in the cab.

Until (Y/N) started sobbing.

One moment she was running on adrenaline and disbelief and anger, the next she was crumbling in her seat with tears pouring down her cheeks and her hands shaking. The letters fell into a mess on the floor, but she couldn't care at that moment.

All she knew was that her father knew for years who was terrorizing her, and covered for him. Her father cared more about money and his reputation than he cared about her, his only child.

She felt as if she was in mourning—for who, she wasn't sure, but something died back at that house that she was never going to get back.

Harry silently wrapped his arm around her, tucking her against his chest as she sobbed in heartbreaking puffs. He nosed at her hair, offering nothing more than his presence.

She cried until she fell asleep in the back seat.

—————

"Y'should be proud of yourself, you know."

Harry's murmured words blended in with the noise of the city happening stories below them. Laid under the duvet at her side, he shared her pillow with her as he ran his fingers over the curve of her side in a soothing motion. (Y/N)'s eyes were still swollen from the afternoon she spent off and on crying, takeout containers thrown away in the trash with hers barely touched.

(Y/N) hiccuped, feeling her lip begin to quiver. "I know I didn't do anything wrong, but I still feel guilty."

His observant gaze softened. "That's because you're a good person," he crooned, sincerity dripping from his words, "Even though you expected the worst from him, it's never easy learning something so terrible form someone you're supposed to trust."

"M-Maybe I shouldn't have yelled at him, or—"

"No, don't do that," Harry cut her off, his grip on her side pulsing, "Today happened the exact way it was supposed to. You needed to say those things to him to make him understand. You were never going to be in the wrong for anything that happened today, (Y/N). He did this to himself."

"I just want to forget any of it happened," she whispered, wiggling closer before Harry pulled her into his chest.

He held her, her head under his chin as a fresh wave of tears bubbled in her eyes. She was going to be okay, she knew that, but she never imagined cutting her father off and telling him the things that had been on her mind for years would affect her like this.

"I know," Harry cooed, petting his hand down her hair with his chest rumbling a lullaby, "But 's going to be okay. I jus' want you to know 'm proud of you, and think the absolute world of how strong y'are. No one gives you enough credit."

With every bit of armor shedded from her heart, Harry's words sunk deep.

Once again, he was there for her when she needed him the most. He never shied from taking care of her, putting back her jagged pieces, and standing by to let her have her own choice. While she knew it was the bare minimum, Harry never made her feel crazy or stupid, or anything but completely herself. The second he learned the kind of person she was, he never looked back.

She squeezed herself harder against him. Maybe today was the day for finally saying things that were on her mind.

"I love you."

Her words were smeared against his neck, but she was sure he still heard her with the way his soothing hand through her hair paused.

"What did you say?"

Swallowing, (Y/N) strengthened her resolve. She meant what she said, even if it was scary to admit.

"I love you," she repeated, voice clearer.

Harry pulled her away from his chest then, fitting a hand on the side ochre jaw to tip her head up to face him. His ever observant gaze traced over each of her features, softening until there was nothing left of his irises but melted jade pools. Even in the dark she could still see the freckles dusting the bridge of his nose.

"(Y/N)," he sighed, his thumb running along the soft skin of her cheek. "You mean that?"

She gave him a small nod, a light smile setting on her lips. "I'm all about telling the truth today, remember?"

He didn't budge at her attempt to joke, staying ever serious. His lips parted, a soft puff of air fanning across her features.

"I love you, too."

Before she had a chance to respond, Harry was pushing his lips against hers in a searing kiss. It was messy and unorganized, but there was nothing urgent behind it. It was nothing more than an expression of devotion, filled with everything that simmered beyond what they could find the words for.

"I love you, too," Harry repeated, pulling away just enough to smear the words across her mouth, "So much, sweet girl. Best thing that ever happened to me."

(Y/N) couldn't contain the smile that took her features at his words.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, mon amour."

He couldn't wait before he brought her in for another kiss.

—————

"I'm so happy you're home," Francesca said, squeezing (Y/N) tighter, "I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Really soon," (Y/N) cemented, feeling just the same to be reunited with her best friend. While she wasn't able to catch her up on everything that she had learned since making it back to New York, (Y/N) didn't plan on keeping it a secret for very long—especially not since she and Harry already decided they were going to file a police report anyway. Her father's word be damned.

"Text me when you get home," Fran smiled, pulling away.

"I will," (Y/N) promised, inching towards the waiting SUV, "Love you."

"Love you, too!"

With that, the door to Sully's car was pushed open from the inside by a hand with a tattooed cross. (Y/N) gave a single wave back to Fran who made her way towards her own car. Her mother was taking her to another gallery opening, pitching that this was going to be the one to finally cause Francesca to realize her dreams. No wonder her friend was dragging her feet.

Climbing into her own car, (Y/N) was greeted with the relieving sight of Harry waiting for her, his arm stretched across the top of the seat for her to fit right underneath.

"Hi," she greeted, feeling lighter to be with him again. It was odd not having him follow her everywhere all the time, anymore. Though he was still her bodyguard in spirit, especially with the unfinished business that was Damien Moore and the potential retaliation that could come, they were learning to relax some of that paranoia. Francesca was a safe boundary to test that with.

"Hi, love," he crooned, pulling her in next to him.

As soon as (Y/N) was buckled in at his side, Sully started off in the opposite direction of the apartment. There was a farmer's market Harry had found outside of the city that he wanted to bring her to (not quite as rustic as the ones in Paris, but they should be alright, he promised). Sully eyed them from the rearview mirror.

"Francesca's doing okay?" Harry asked, his hand on her shoulder squeezing the cuff.

"Yeah," (Y/N) smiled, "She's happy we're home now. Her mom's taking her to a gallery opening tonight."

"Not excited about that then," Harry laughed, remembering those details (Y/N) had shared about her friends all that time ago.

"Definitely not," (Y/N) shook her head, "I almost told her I'd go with her, but I figured my plans were a little more important."

"I'd hope so," he murmured, dropping his head to press a quick kiss to her cheek.

(Y/N)'s easy laughter blinked through the car, Harry's smile extending.

"Mr. Harry?" Sully called from the driver's seat, taking advantage of the lull in conversation.

"Yes, sir?"

Sully's blue eyes glimmered in the reflection of the mirror, the corners creasing that much more with a smile (Y/N) couldn't see. "I take it that you'll be staying with us longer than initially expected?"

A memory sparked to the front of (Y/N)'s mind, months prior before she knew Harry and Harry knew her. Sully had asked how long Harry would be with them, shadowing (Y/N) and monitoring her movements. Harry had put an expiration date on the arrangement, citing the end would come when she could convince her father she was a grownup.

This time, Harry gave an easy smile, full of dimples and white teeth.

"Yes, sir. I'll be staying for a while."

—————

épanouissement is an untranslatable French word that describes the flourishing and blooming of a person growing into a new and more beautiful stage of life

and thats the end of bodyguard h! I had a lot of fun w this one exploring a different kind of female character than im used to and getting to do the writing process a little differnt! thank u so much for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and if theres any ideas for anything thar you want to see next please sent them in!

772 notes · View notes

red-ropes-of-avalon · 5 months

Text

Sukuna is the kinda guy who demands you get the proper amount of respect and will fight for you if it's not given. Absolutely nobody gets away with taking anything that's yours and claiming it as their own- because what's yours is also his.

Modern AU Blurb:

You were always rather unfortunate with lab partners when it was up to luck of the draw. Being a woman in STEM was never labeled as easy, and while your beloved boyfriend was as helpful as possible he couldn't take that burden away. Being a business major meant he knew all the excel tips and tricks, so he helped when he could. While you had never foreseen dating your roommate's older brother, it was an interesting dynamic. Anything you accomplished brought him pride, for your achievements were his too.

Finals week in your room was hectic- your direct roommate Nobara had her interior design papers everywhere. Some pinned on the wall, others strewed all over the floor. Your own Biochem notes sprawled all over a calendar whiteboard. Megumi and Yuji's room was a mess on only one side- Megumi's sources for an English paper written neatly on the whiteboard with checks next to the ones he has cited from, while Yuji's side generally always looked like a bomb had been dropped but now with added notes sprawled around. You were sprawled on the floor writing out an assignment for your Biochem lecture while Nobara sat at her desk above you.

Your email pinged- an email from your lab partner. You inwardly groaned not wanting Nobara to pick up on your distress. He had been emailing you all day for the final project that you'd be presenting tomorrow. The problem though was you had found out he had been using your excel file for the whole semester. All of the hours trying to bullshit excel into working, and all of Sukuna's help had been being used by him. Normally this wouldn't bother you but he was using it and claiming it to be his own work- taking all of the credit for your hard work. You flipped your phone down and turned your notifications off trying to focus on the paper you had to read.

You didn't even realize how many hours you had been working on this paper until Yuji was standing in the doorway. "Yo Y/N are you ok?" Looking up at Yuji you tilted your head slightly, confused why he was asking. "Sukuna's been texting you and you haven't responded. He's calling me and yelling at me." Your eyes widened, how long had you been laying here struggling to read this paper on PEPCK. "He's already on his way over here now. Just I guess be ready to explain why you weren't answering." You nodded quietly and began racking your brain for an excuse. You could say you were doing work, but that usually never warranted you turning on Do Not Disturb. If you told him about the actual problem he could blow it into something more than it's worth. You didn't even notice Yuji had disappeared from the door and Nobara stepped out.

Before your mind could stop running in frantic circles, Sukuna was now hulking in your doorframe. "Hey twerp, why weren't you answering me? Almost gave me a goddamned heart attack."

"Aw you missed talking to me did you?" You teased hoping to distract him.

"No dodging the question brat. You never turn your notifications off, so spill." Sukuna's eyes felt like they were piercing into your soul. You couldn't hide anything from him. His perception rivaled his intelligence even.

"I have a final presentation tomorrow for my Biochem lab. I have to do it with my lab partner and he's just been overwhelming me with emails. And...and I just found out he's been taking all the calculations I've been doing in the excel. Y'know the ones I need your help with sometimes because they take hours trying to get excel to work..." you trailed off eyes down.

"What are you going to do about it then twerp? Because if I don't get a good answer I'm taking that laptop and I'm sending an email to the professor for you."

"I was going to talk to her in person before we have to present. I'm just...y'know nervous." Sukuna sighed lowering himself to sit beside you on the floor, pulling you into him.

"If the professor doesn't handle it, I'll make sure someone else does. Now let me see this presentation. I'm assuming you made it since your one of the few competent individuals I know so this better be good." You smiled softly, switching tabs to the presentation you had formatted. The other group members had all their data in, and your heart dropped to your stomach when you found screenshots of your excel sheet placed in. Sukuna just ruffled your hair distracting you from the panic filling your heart. "At least you know the data is right, don't work yourself up over this or else you'll mess up your part. Don't forget what's yours is mine so you gotta make me proud."

---------

I wrote this while upset because I found out my lab partner has been using my excel sheet all semester and taking credit for all my work hahah. Love being a woman in STEM.

#ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader

351 notes · View notes

metalhoops · 10 months

Text

Inspired by this post

Steve had watched the world end a hundred different ways. He’d lived the same day more times than he could count, watching the people he loved die or feeling himself die. There were things worse than death. There were memories he didn’t dredge up for fear of calling them into the waking world.

He'd held onto hope for the first twenty recurrent days, which had dwindled to a sense of steely determination until he’d lost count of the days. Then all that was left was the comfort of repetition. He was Sisyphus pushing the boulder up the hill, day in and day out. Steve kept trying and failing to save Eddie until it was all he knew.

Maybe he was Prometheus, who stole fire from the gods and spent his life paying for it, tied to a rock while birds picked at his liver, only for it to grow back with each morning. Prometheus whose name, by definition, means forethought; one’s ability to consider possible futures. Steve had spent a small lifetime considering futures. It wasn’t a comparison he would’ve made on his own. That was Eddie, who’d spent his childhood with his head in thick tomes of fantasy and mythology.

Eddie Munson came to him like cheap furniture, in crudely disassembled pieces that Steve had been working tirelessly to put together. Each new loop brought him another piece of Eddie. His favourite colour was blue. He only woke up early on weekends to watch cartoons. He liked too much cream in his coffee.

The Eddie that existed in a world where Steve stayed with him and Dustin during the swarm of bats had told Steve his biggest dream was to make enough money to buy Uncle Wayne a proper home. His biggest fear was that when he died, no one would remember him.

Days or months later, with Steve repeating the same damn day, he’d finally learnt why Eddie’s love for his uncle ran so deep. Wayne had taken him in before his dad went to jail when the man caught Eddie holding another boy’s hand. In that world, Steve had stayed with Eddie in the RV as the rest of the group searched War Zone.

Eddie’s mother died when he was six. He’d told Steve that later, or earlier. Steve had and has lost his sense of past and present. Eddie loved his mother deeply, though was unsure if that love had been misplaced. He recalled two mothers, one who read him bedtime stories and threw herself around the kitchen each morning with her wild theatrics and another mother who was distant and whose temper could turn on a dime. Eddie wasn’t sure which of those mothers was his and which was the mother of memory. All good storytellers know the story shapes itself in the retelling. Eddie’s mother was Janus, god of duality.

Steve understood. He loved and hated his parents. These feelings weren’t mutually exclusive. Steve loved Eddie because he’d spent the last hundred-odd days getting to know him, but Steve hated Eddie because he kept dying. Until he didn’t.

The boys lay side by side in the red-blue soil of The Upside Down, their bleeding sides caked with mud and demonic bat viscera. In the end, Steve wasn’t sure what’d done it. It’d been so long since he’d lived Eddie’s original death that it’d been smeared by the haze of memory and conjecture. All he knew was that a sea of bats lay dead around them and that it was over. Finally, over.

Steve removed his hand from where it was pressed into his side and extended it to ensnare Eddie’s. He felt muscles tug and tear from the walls of his ribs with the effort. Blood flowed freely from the cavity, but Steve didn’t care. He wanted to hold Eddie’s hand. Holy shit, they’d done it.

Somewhere along the way, Steve had fallen in love. It’d taken him ten more iterations to reconcile with the fact he could not only like a man but love him. That was months ago, in Steve’s time. It was old news. “Steve, you still with me?” Eddie asked, his voice horse.

He was hurt, though not as badly as Steve. All his wounds were superficial. He’d be okay. Steve had been so sick of watching Eddie die, he’d been willing to put his body on the line to make sure it didn’t happen again.

In this loop, he was still ‘Steve’, not ‘Stevie’. They hadn’t grown close enough yet. Eddie only called him ‘sweetheart’ in the iterations where they kissed. Steve wanted to kiss him, but there was the taste of iron in his mouth.

“I’m okay,” Steve insisted, squeezing Eddie’s hand. He felt a sharp pain shoot through his side as Eddie pressed his hand into Steve’s wound.

“Christ, there’s a lot of blood,” Eddie muttered to himself.

He was bad with blood. He’d scraped his knee down to the bone when he was seven and ever since, the sight of gore made him queasy. Steve wasn’t meant to know that yet. In this iteration, he hadn’t told Eddie about the loop. He’d tried before, but it never helped.

Pain and blood loss drag Steve down into a familiar oblivion. He expected to wake at the beginning of the loop, emerging in The Upside Down from Lover’s Lake, but instead, he found himself in a hospital room with Eddie in a bed by his side. It was late, too late for visitors, but Eddie wasn’t sleeping. His eyes were trained on Steve, equal parts concerned and curious.

“You scared the shit out of me,” Eddie confessed, as Steve’s eyes met his.

Steve wanted to cry or scream. He wanted to untangle himself from the knot of cords and tubes to crawl beside Eddie in bed as they had curled up together in the back of the RV dozens of times before. He needed to hold Eddie to know he was alive, to understand he wasn’t going anywhere. Steve blinked away tears, balling his hands into fists. He didn’t want to scare Eddie.

“I scared you?” Steve choked out a mixture between a laugh and a sob.

Eddie didn’t know what to do. He never knew what to do when people cried. Steve learned that in the iteration where they’d lost Dustin. He didn’t want to think about it.

“You almost died, man,” Eddie explained.

He somehow understood Steve wanted him closer. Eddie got out of bed, clutching his I.V. drip as he flopped into the chair by Steve’s bedside. He wanted to hold Eddie’s hand again, but he was out of excuses. He could tell him the truth, but he didn’t know what good it would do.

Steve was still used to thinking of possible futures. He was Prometheus who, unlike Sisyphus, escaped his torment. Steve wondered what happened to Prometheus after he was rescued. Did he return to a normal life? Does anyone bother to ask? Prometheus’ story is always about punishment. Afterwards, he was a footnote in the story of Hercules, but once the heroes leave the story, what’s left?

Eddie would know the answer, but it wasn’t a conversation he’d had with this Eddie. That Eddie was dead. This Eddie was and wasn’t him. This Eddie was Janus, god of abstract duality, god of beginnings and ends, god of life and death.

“Sorry my lame-ass face is the first one you had to see. Robin and the kids were in here all day. Wheeler left flowers,” Eddie tacked on awkwardly.

This Eddie didn’t know Steve. They were strangers. Of course, things were awkward. He couldn’t know he was the one person Steve wanted to see more than anything.

“No, Ed’s—.” Slip of the tongue.

“Eddie. I’m really glad you’re here, man.”

They were back to square one, but Steve could work with that. He’d been working with that for months. This time, Eddie would remember. This time, they had the luxury of taking things slow.

“One thing’s been bugging me all day,” Steve began.

After hundreds of days of getting to know Eddie, Steve had learnt a few shortcuts, a few ways to jump-start his way into Eddie’s heart.

“Can you explain what the hell Mordor is?”

It was a tried-and-true method. By that point, Steve knew Eddie’s response off by heart, but he wanted to hear him say it. Eddie gave him the same perplexed look he always did when Steve asked. It was as though Eddie thought he knew too much like there was some secret he wasn’t letting him in on, but he didn’t challenge Steve on it. He never did.

“Harrington, have you heard of Lord of the Rings?” Yes.

“No.” A million times.

“Tell me about it.”

Read Part 2 Here

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #drabble #ficlet #Metalhoops writes #I read the post yesterday #and I've been thinking about it ever since #the plot kind of ran away with itself #but I like how it turned out #I'm considering a part 2 #from Eddie's point of few in the weeks/ months that follow #depending on if people are interested #shoutout to #@theamazingbard #for the idea

868 notes · View notes

b-o-e · 11 months

Text

first date

Wally Darling x Reader

Warnings: a lil silly if you don’t imagine yourself and Wally to be similar in height, bahahah! also, 'tis a biggin! plus, an important note at the end if you'd like to see!

although it is not necessary, I highly suggest reading my fics in their recommended order for the best experience! here is the link to all my silly lil wally fics in order. this is #10, wowzers! :)

Wally asks you out on a date, but little does he know.

“I think I’m all set,”

Wally stared at himself in the mirror, pushing a stray hair into place with his fingers. He inhaled a deep breath, brushing off his outfit.

“What do you say, Home?” He lifted his arms to the side, presenting himself to his friend with a spin, earning squeaks and creaks of approval in return.

“Oh, you,” He swatted playfully at the air, holding his cheek in response to Home’s (supposedly) kind words.

Wally ensured to get the bundle of flowers Frank and Eddie put together for him off the table, announcing that he was off as he started toward the door, only for it not to open for him. He paused, confused. Oh, was he forgetting something?

“Picnic basket!” he snapped his fingers, smiling brightly. “Goodness, my nerves must be getting to me,” he grabbed the basket and adjusted the gingham blanket on the top.

“Is that everything, now?” He questioned aloud, unable to recall anything else. Home squeaked, door swaying open. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” he smiled, heading out and waving farewell, on his way to your house.

Despite the anxiety bundled in his belly, Wally had an excited pep in his step, confidence peeking through. He felt good about this. Excited!

He had flowers and a basket of your favourite snacks for you two, along with a perfect set-up planned for the dishes, too! With his outfit looking spiffy and hair looking chic, he was set!

In no time at all, Wally stood before your door, lifting his fist and knocking, swaying back and forth on his heels. Deep breaths, Wally!

Barely two seconds passed, and it swung open. It looked like you had just been getting ready to leave.

“Wally?” you smiled, seeming pleasantly surprised by his appearance. “What are the chances?”

“Oh, my. I hope I’m not disrupting any plans,” he fretted.

“Not at all,” you reassured. “Actually, I was about to go looking for you,”

“Is that so?” he asked, head tipped to the side with curiosity.

“Yes,” you leaned back, grabbing something off the table. “I was going to bring you these,”

You held a bundle of tulips out to him, red, orange, and yellow. Wally’s eyes widened, his smile growing.

“Well, isn’t that a silly coincidence?”

He untucked the bouquet of flowers he brought for you from under his arm, holding them out, though his expression fell as he noticed their appearance.

“My… I guess I should’ve been a little more careful,” he sheepishly shifted around the slightly squashed flowers, attempting to fix them up a little better. “I’m sorry,” he apologized shyly, a little downed by his mistake.

Despite the disheveled appearance of them, you happily accepted, handing him his as you examined the beautiful bouquet. “They’re wonderful, Wally,” you awed with delight. “Why don’t you step inside for a few moments? I’ll get these in a vase real quick,” you opened the entrance further for him, walking over to the kitchen.

Wally followed you inside, staring down at the flowers you’d given to him, a giddy little smile playing at his lips. Great minds think alike, don’t they?

“So,” your voice recaptured his attention as you snipped away at the stems of the flowers, carefully sliding them into a vase filled with water. “What else brings you here? Were you just passing by?” you questioned as you walked over, placing the colourful display on the coffee table in front of your couch.

“Actually,” Wally began, holding out the picnic basket. “I came to invite you for a picnic with me,”

“A picnic?”

“A picnic,” he affirmed. “I figured, it’s a beautiful day outside, and I would like to take you on a proper date. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“Why, isn’t that just charming of you,” you teased playfully, although the light flush on your cheeks displayed your true feelings.

“I do try,” Wally grinned. “Would you do me the honour of accompanying me?”

“I would love to,” you agreed. “I thought you looked a little extra handsome today, so I was wondering what you were up to. But, those simply may be my thoughts everyday,”

“How very sweet of you,” Wally reddened a little now, walking to the door, pulling it open for you and gesturing you through. “Shall we head out, then?” he asked.

“We shall, I suppose,” you chuckled. Something caught your eye first, your face lighting up with realization. “Oh, right! I grabbed this for you while I was at the store, too. Couldn’t resist,” you plucked the Red Delicious apple you’d gotten for him off the table, offering it to him. He accepted it gladly, smiling.

“How thoughtful as well,” he smiled. “Thank you, I appreciate it. It’s nice to know I seem to be on your mind as much as you’re on mine, too,”

Your cheeks darkened at his comment. “More than I’d like to admit, personally,” you grumbled under your breath, walking through the door, Wally following behind, sliding his hand into yours.

“Oh yeah?” he hummed, watching you in amusement as your cheeks brightened ever so slightly.

“You weren’t meant to hear that.”

It wasn’t long before you two arrived on a hill you frequented together, treading up to the shade of the tree that sat at the top. Wally took the blanket off the basket, laying it out on the ground, allowing a clean place to sit.

“What a nice day it is,” you mumbled, laying back in a starfish position and enjoying the warmth in the air. A gentle breeze drifted by every once in a while, rustling through the leaves above.

“Agreed,” Wally said, watching you with an adoring smile on his features. “Although any day is a nice day with you around, in my mind,”

“I could say the same to you, Darling,” you peeked up at him with a grin, propping yourself up on your arms.

“Why, thank you,” he grabbed the apple he’d been carrying, lifting the lid to the picnic basket to place it inside for later. He froze halfway through the action.

His brain went blank.

“... Wally?” you questioned. “Are you alright?”

… Where was the food?

He slowly shut the basket’s lid, lips slightly agape, eyes shyly meeting yours as you scooted over.

His shoulders sunk, embarrassment bubbling in his stomach as you peeked inside the basket for yourself.

“... I grabbed the wrong basket,” he whispered.

Your eyes locked with his guilt filled orbs, surprise filling your own.

Wally’s head dropped as he deflated a little more with shame.

But then, you laughed,

“You grabbed the wrong basket?” you sniggered, Wally offering a little nod of confirmation. “That’s no big deal at all, Wally” you claimed, reaching out and tilting his chin back up to make him look at you. “Guess we just have to ration the apple, huh?” you teased, pecking his forehead.

“Consider it yours,”

“I’m only kidding,” you giggled, pushing it back towards him. “It’s all yours, Darling,” you said, twisting your body to lay on your back, head resting in his lap.

Hesitant, his arms slowly snaked loosely over your shoulders as he gazed down at you, fingers toying with the fabric of your shirt.

“... you’re not mad?”

“No, I’m not mad. Not at all,”

“Really?”

“Truly,” you smiled, hands coming up to rest on top of his. “I’m more than happy just to spend time with you. I was glad to have this outing as an excuse to,”

“Goodness me,” he mumbled, cheeks flushing lightly. “I sure am a lucky one, aren’t I?” he sighed in relief, thumbs brushing along your jawline.

“You sure are,” you jested, grinning up at him.

Together, you sat in an equal amount of talking and silence, simply enjoying the other's company. Wally became a little less uptight, trying to relax and enjoy the moment more, despite still feeling discouraged over all the things that had gone wrong so far.

Everything that could go wrong already has now, hasn't it? The hurdles had been passed, and you didn’t seem put off one bit.

He watched you as you animatedly retold a story, hands waving in the air as you explained it to him. You were much too preoccupied to notice the absolutely smitten look on his face, entranced by your every move.

Until he felt something on his shoulder.

And then something on his other.

And then, a big wet drop hit your forehead.

“Uh oh,” you chuckled, wiping a droplet away and holding out your hand. “Looks like it’s starting to rain. Those clouds sure blow in quick, I didn’t even notice,” you sat up, standing to your feet.

“Oh no,” Wally mumbled, “we’d better get inside before it begins to pour,”

And as if those were the magic words, it did just that.

The sprinkle was swift to turn into a drizzle, and that drizzle soon turned into a shower. It left next to no time for you to get to any proper cover, apart from the tree.

The leaves of the tree blocked out some of the rain, however you were still getting a little wet. Unsure whether to wait it out or leave, Wally watched the rainfall, disappointed with the way everything just had to turn out.

“Say, maybe we can use the blanket as some extra cover an–”

He was cut off as his foot slid on a patch of slippery mud, leading him down, flat on his back with a grunt. Out in the open, not to mention.

At this point, he couldn’t even bother anymore.

“Are you okay?” you worried, sliding down onto your knee next to him, uncaring toward the mud that got on your clothes.

Wally stared blankly up at the sky, his smile pitiful at this point.

“This is quite the downer, isn’t it?” he uttered.

Wally gazed at you, his eyes brimmed with tears that threatened to escape.

“I messed everything up today, huh? Ha ha,” he forced a chuckle, looking to the side as he lifted an arm to wipe at his face.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I wanted to treat you today, to impress you,” his wet hands covered his face, humiliated.

“I wanted to show you how I love you so deeply, and to ask…” he hesitated. Should he even say it now? He just felt like it would go poorly, anyways. Instead, he sighed, dropping the subject.

“Never mind, all that…”

His hands fell to his sides, spread out as he accepted his miserable fate. He felt so defeated. Thoroughly, downright destroyed, by now.

Not a single thing seemed to go his way today. Murphy’s Law was on his tail! From when he grabbed the wrong basket, he smushed the flowers, he forgot to take the weather into account, he slipped and got you both all muddy... What's next?

With how poorly this outing with you has gone, why would you want to go on any more with him?

As he went to apologize to you once more, you beat him to speaking.

“Dance with me,” you said.

Your hand came into Wally’s view, palm up, requesting his.

He met eyes with yours, lost.

Shouldn’t you be upset with him? Or anything that's not wanting to dance?

“I ruined our date,” he voiced.

“Well, I don’t see it that way,” you disagreed, “I don’t think you’ve done anything wrong. Maybe some mishaps have happened, but…” you trailed off as you looked around, peering back at him.

“I see it as a memorable first date with you,”

“Memorable is one way to describe it, I suppose…” he grumbled. You giggled, shaking your head.

“I mean that in a good way,” you chuckled. “I’ve enjoyed this. A lot. Maybe things didn’t go according to plan, but… sometimes, it’s fun when things go astray,”

“So come on,”

He stared at you, befuddled by your words. He had been unsure that he could love you any more, but with each passing day, you seemed to prove that assumption wrong.

“Dance with me, Wally. Please?”

So, timidly, he accepted your hand, standing back to his feet with your help.

His hair was drooped in front of his face, dampened by the rain, as were both of your clothes by now. And yet, you showed no sign of caring.

Instead, you led him further away from the little cover the tree provided, stopping in the middle of the road.

“We have no music,” Wally pointed out as you turned toward him, his hands in your own.

“Won’t you sing for me, Wally?” You joked with a giggle. He chuckled weakly, shaking his head.

“You and I both know I’m not the best singer,”

“And yet, you and I both know that’s not what it’s all about,” you begged to differ, “It’s about the enjoyment, and I enjoy the sound of your voice, personally. Plus, you and I both know I’m not the best dancer, but here I am, asking you to dance with me,”

“I think you’re a wonderful dancer,”

“As I think you’re a wonderful singer,”

He opened his mouth to reply, only to close it right back up.

Touché…

He couldn’t come up with any argument for that. So, with an amused huff, he pulled you closer and began to hum a tune for you, leading you into a slow, simple dance.

As you swayed lazily in the street together, Wally could almost feel his tension melt away in the rain. He felt as if his cares had faded, with you in his arms.

Sure, the picnic was ruined (though it seems that it was from the start), his hair was sopping wet, and his clothes weren’t much different, he could put up with it, if this feeling of tranquility with you is what he gets in return.

As he continued to hum, Wally lifted his arm, twirling you in the dance and carefully dipping you, smiling as you giggled.

When he lifted you back up out of it, you pulled your grip away from his, leaning against him.

Your arms wrapped loosely around his hips, the man stood still as a statue in your embrace for a moment, before he carefully laid his arms over your shoulders. He’d gotten better, with time. He wanted to improve for you.

“Wally?” you murmured quietly, catching his attention.

“Yes?” he replied.

“Tell me what you were going to say, won’t you?”

It took Wally a moment to comprehend the meaning behind your words, but soon, he understood. The corners of his lips tugged up a little more, and he gently pulled you closer.

“Well, I wanted to ask you a question, since it had come to my attention we hadn’t spoken about it before,” He said, pulling back slightly to have a better look at you.

“So, I wanted to request of you, if you would please accept me as your significant other,” He murmured, eyes gazing lovingly into yours.

“I’d be glad to, Wally,” you smiled back at him. “I would love nothing more than that,”

Wally’s smile grew wider. Thunder rumbled gently in the distance, the warm rain continuing to hit against your skin. Both of you were completely drenched by now, soaked, muddy, and yet none of that mattered, with how incredibly content you were in each other’s presence.

“I desire nothing more than that,” Wally hummed, his hands cupping your cheeks. Your own found his wrist, gripping them lightly.

“You know, my darling,” you hummed, his surname falling from your lips with more meaning. “I’m completely and utterly in love with you, Wally,”

His lips tugged upwards.

And that’s all he needed to hear.

Eliminating the little space between the two of you, his lips met yours in a slow, tender kiss, while the rain continued to pelt down around you.

“Same to you, my love,” Wally murmured, forehead pressed to yours.

“Yes!” Julie leaped up, fist pumping the air, rain poncho shielding her body from the rain.

You jumped back from Wally in shock, cheeks flushing deeply with embarrassment.

“Julie!” Frank scolded, yanking her back down behind the bush.

“Sorry!”

FINALLY!!! IT'S HERE!!! I am so sorry for the long wait!!! hopefully this long fic makes up for it!!!

it has been a month since i started this series!!! wow, has it ever flown by!!! thank you to everyone for their support, especially to those of you who have interacted with all of my stuff. I notice you. you pop up in my notifications and i occasionally say aloud, "thank you kittenpickles692" or whatever your strange url may be!!! i do not believe a kittenpickles692 exists, but perhaps i should look into it!!!

but!!! thank you all!!! i really truly appreciate it!!! i won't lie, with how this fic goes, i may consider leaving this 'series' here. what i mean by this though, is the pulling away from the fics following a 'storyline'. i will more likely than not still write these and they will still be considered part of it, but they will be much more random moments instead, bahah! simply different tidbits of your relationship with wally, all in this same 'world' i have written about.

here is a link to my silly lil wally fics in their recommended order if you would like :) these can also be found on my ao3 B) I also have a ko-fi if you'd like to support me!

alas!!! I believe this is all for now!!! i truly hope that you enjoyed, and i will be back soon!!! likes and reblogs are very appreciated! MWAH!!!

Posted Friday, May 19, 2023, at 11:18 AM

#wally darling x reader #wally x reader #wally darling #welcome home x reader #welcome home #holy cow man #so sorry for the wait :')#i do hope this makes up for it!!!#thank you again!!!

682 notes · View notes

bupia · 6 months

Text

Serendipity: Chapter 1 - Papa Emeritus IV x Fem!Reader

Summary: On a Halloween night, you, along with Terzo and his family, head to the Ministry for an annual ball to celebrate this beloved day. On this occasion, you have the chance to meet Terzo's brothers, whom you've heard about for so long: Primo, Secondo, and most notably, the current Papa Emeritus, Copia.

Words: 7.811

A/N: Happy Halloween! After 30 days of The Ministry Kinktober, I thought it'd be fun to start a new series with Copia, this time casting him in the role of Papa Emeritus IV. I hope you all find it enjoyable.

Available on AO3

Chapter 2

Day 1: The Halloween ball.

Not too long ago, you had taken on the role of a nanny for Terzo's family, a job that might have seemed traditional but had turned into something quite extraordinary. It was a simple job, as you saw it, but it held a unique charm. You didn't need what people would call a "proper job." You had found an opportunity and embraced it with open arms.

Your life with Terzo, Angèle, and little Andras had begun when you first met them. The revelation that a Papa could marry and have children had initially surprised you, but as the months passed, you grew to understand why.

Terzo, was the former Papa Emeritus III, he had retired from his role but retained his title, akin to a seasoned veteran who continued to bear the honor of his past. He belonged to a unique religious group, far from the conventional churches that prayed to God and Saints. It was a Satanic Ministry.

Terzo had been apprehensive that you would run away upon learning the truth, but why would you? You saw no harm in their beliefs, and they were a joyful, healthy, and loving family. It was just one more facet of their lives, like an extra spice that enhanced the flavor of your experience, which may not have made much sense to outsiders, but to you, it was just an intriguing facet of their lives. You wouldn't judge them for it.

Over time, you had naturally learned more about their religion, not because they imposed it on you, but because you had an open mind and a willingness to listen. They always made sure you were comfortable with the information they shared, never pushing you into anything that might make you uncomfortable. However, what had truly piqued your interest was when you heard about the existence of Ghouls, and your excitement had reached peak levels when you finally met Dewdrop, one of the oldest Ghouls of the Ministry.

As you became closer to the family, Angèle shared pictures of their life in the Ministry, including images of Terzo's brothers. Primo, the eldest, had a commanding presence during his time as a Papa, but Angèle assured you he was a kind soul. Secondo, just three months older than Terzo, always wore an intimidating frown and had an impeccable sense of style.

And then, there was Copia, the current Papa Emeritus of the ministry and the new leader of Ghost. From the pictures Angèle showed you, Copia seemed to have it all. His handsome features and warm smile made your heart race, and the sight of him holding little Andras in a nursery photo nearly brought you to tears; it was the cutest thing you had ever seen.

But, circling back to the present, tonight was Halloween night, and you, Terzo, Angèle, and Andras were en route to the Ministry, all dressed in your costumes. The creative family had chosen to embody the Addams Family, while you, wanting to fit in somehow, had opted for a nun costume. In hindsight, it might not have been the best choice for a gathering at a satanic Ministry, but it was too late to change now.

As you got closer to the ministry, a wave of apprehension washed over you. You had grown accustomed to Terzo's family and their satanic customs, but tonight was different, and you weren't entirely sure what to expect, especially in the company of his brothers. In your heart, you knew your role was that of a nanny and nothing more. Yet, a part of you yearned to connect with the people you would meet tonight, especially since Terzo would be spending a week within the Ministry starting by today. He had explained that this was an opportunity to address some important matters with the clergy and to provide guidance to his brother, Copia, in his new role, alongside Primo and Secondo.

Also, you couldn't deny that you were feeling a bit nervous about meeting Copia in person. You hoped he lived up to the handsome figure he cut in the pictures Angèle had shared with you.

"We are almost there, Papa," Dewdrop's voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you blinked, refocusing your attention on the road ahead. You glanced at the rearview mirror, where you could see Andras peacefully asleep in Angèle's arms. Terzo sat beside her, his hand resting gently on her leg. It was unusual for Terzo not to be the one behind the wheel, but tonight, given the formal nature of the ministry's event, Dewdrop had been assigned to chauffeur you all in one of the ministry's official cars.

A smile tugged at your lips as you admired the loving scene before you. Then, you turned your gaze to the Ghoul seated right beside you. "You didn't want to put on a costume for today, Dewdrop?" you asked playfully.

Dewdrop chuckled and replied, "I don't think I need one."

You couldn't help but giggle at his response. "Well, that's true. You are already in the Halloween spirit every day. I thought you would have convinced him to dress up as Lurch," you said as you turned your face to Terzo.

Terzo rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. "Ho tentato," he said with a grin, "but he refused. Apparently, driving a car for us today is already pushing the boundaries of his Ghoul image."

Dewdrop nodded with a smirk. "I have to maintain my Ghoul dignity, Papa."

As the car made a slight turn, you laid eyes on an old building that resembled a church. It bore a striking resemblance to the other churches you had seen before, but there was something uniquely captivating about it. The building was grand, situated on a sprawling piece of land adorned with a beautiful garden. It left you in awe, and your eyes sparkled with amazement as you took in the sight.

The car continued its way until it came to a stop in front of the large building. A group of Ghouls, more than you were accustomed to, had gathered by the entrance and swiftly approached the car. This was the first time you had seen so many of them at once; you were typically only in the company of Dewdrop.

"We are here," Dewdrop announced.

"Grazie, Dewdrop, for bringing us here today."

The Ghouls opened the car doors for Terzo and Angèle, who wasted no time in stepping out. However, you remained seated inside, gazing forward. Dewdrop reached out and gently touched your arm.

"Is something wrong?" he inquired.

You shook your head. "No, I'm just a little nervous, I guess."

Dewdrop reassured you with a warm smile. "There's no need to be nervous. Everything will be fine. Come with me, and you'll be fine."

He opened his door, then walked to your side, opening your door as well. You took Andra's bag and stepped out, and he closed the door behind you. Dewdrop offered you his arm, and you took it gratefully, feeling a sense of comfort in his presence.

Glancing over at Terzo and Angèle, who were already waiting by the front door, you and Dewdrop made your way to join them. Two of the Ghouls opened the grand entrance, allowing Terzo to enter first, followed by Angèle, who held Andras in her arms. You followed closely behind them, hand in arm with Dewdrop, taking in the vastness of the ministry. It exceeded your expectations in size and grandeur. The Halloween decorations added a whimsical touch to the solemn atmosphere, and the faint strains of music drifted to your ears from a distance. A sense of excitement and anticipation bubbled within you as you stepped further into the ministry, eager to immerse yourself in the evening's festivities.

"Dear," Angèle's voice reached your ear as you walked alongside Dewdrop.

"Yes, miss?" you responded, instinctively using a formal title.

"I already told you, you can call me by my name," Angèle chided gently. "Can you hold him for me?"

"I'm sorry, mi- Angèle," you corrected yourself and reached out to take Andras into your arms, handling him with care.

Terzo flashed you a warm smile, and they continued to make their way toward the music. You returned to Dewdrop's side, walking alongside him as the music grew louder, guiding you to a room with its doors wide open. A Ghoul approached and led the way, with Terzo and Angèle following closely behind.

"Papa Emeritus III, Terzo, and his beloved wife, Angèle, have arrived," the Ghoul announced at the door.

Terzo and Angèle entered the room, and you and Dewdrop followed suit. The sight that greeted you was nothing short of incredible. The room was filled with people, dancing, conversing, and enjoying themselves to the fullest. The colorful lights on the ceiling illuminated the space in a mesmerizing display. Halloween decorations adorned the room, and the lively disco music filled the air, creating an atmosphere that was positively infectious.

Dewdrop turned to you, placing his hand on your shoulder. "So, what do you think of all this?"

You couldn't contain your excitement as you looked around, taking in the grandeur of the event. "It's stunning! The ball is so grand, and there are so many people... I don't have words to describe it."

Dewdrop reached out and gently placed a hand on your lower back, leaning in closer to your ear. "I need to leave you now. I have to be around the ministry with the other Ghouls. Promise me you'll have fun, okay?"

You nodded, smiling at Dewdrop as he departed the room to attend to his duties. Your attention turned to Terzo and Angèle, who had moved farther away from you. Adjusting Andras in your arms as he began to wake up, you smiled down at the little one.

"Hello there, little one," you cooed, gently brushing your fingers across Andras's soft cheek. He responded with a radiant smile, accompanied by a symphony of baby sounds.

You made your way over to Terzo and his wife, who were standing near one of the tables adorned with a small paper sign that read "Papas." As you approached, someone came up behind you, and Terzo turned to face the newcomer.

"Fratello!" Terzo exclaimed, opening his arms and walking toward the person. "Where is your costume?"

Turning to see who it was, you found Secondo, one of Terzo's brothers, dressed in a very elegant dark green suit that emphasized all the curves and lines of his body, impeccably tailored to perfection. He exuded an air of sophistication and confidence. As he approached Terzo, they embraced warmly, and you couldn't help but notice how well Secondo carried himself in his stylish attire.

"I can't believe you didn't wear the costume I told you to," Terzo playfully chided as they pulled away.

"Terzo, I was not going to be Uncle Fester just because you asked me to," Secondo replied with a sigh.

"Why not, fratello? It would have been fun!" Terzo countered, clearly amused.

"Sì, for you, only," Secondo replied with a resigned tone. He then looked around and laid his eyes on you. "Oh, here he is! And who is this, signora?"

"She is our nanny," Angèle chimed in, going to your side and placing her hand on your back.

"It's nice to meet you formally, Papa," you said, extending your hand toward him, and he gallantly kissed the back of it.

"Il piacere è tutto mi," he replied with a charming smile, still holding your hand.

"Terzo!" another voice called from behind you, and you turned to see who it was.

"Primo!" Terzo exclaimed with a chuckle. "Fratello, hai lo spirito di Halloween! Sapevo che non mi avresti deluso!"

Indeed, Primo was dressed as Uncle Fester, and you couldn't help but stifle a giggle. He approached your group and hugged Terzo, just as Secondo had done earlier.

"See, fratello?" Terzo said, glancing at Secondo. "Primo has the Halloween spirit!"

"So you basically asked for the two of us to dress as Uncle Fester because you knew one of us would come as it?" Secondo asked, sounding somewhat annoyed.

"One of you was bound to do it," Terzo replied teasingly.

"Cretino," Secondo muttered in a sharp tone, shaking his head in mock disapproval.

"Secondo," Primo said with a disapproving look, then turned his gaze to you. "And who is this bella signora?"

"This is Andra's nanny, fratello," Terzo clarified.

Primo approached you with a warm smile. "Nice to meet you, bella," he said gently. "And it seems our piccolo demone is awake."

You smiled and nodded. "Nice to meet you too, Papa. And yes, Andras is quite awake and lively right now."

Primo extended his arms, and you handed Andras over to him. "Ciao piccolo," he greeted with a smile. "Il tuo zio preferito ti ha fatto mancare, mio piccolo demone."

"Zio preferito? You wish, fratello," Secondo chimed in as he approached Primo. He extended his hand toward Andras, who eagerly clasped one of his fingers with his tiny hand, letting out a sweet giggle. "See? He knows who his zio prefereito is. He's even smiling at me."

"Smiling at you?" Primo countered with playful banter. "The bambino is laughing at you."

The brothers exchanged amused glances, their competitive spirit lightening the mood as Andras enjoyed their attention. You briefly averted your eyes to take in the lively atmosphere of the Halloween ball. The joyous spirit in the room was infectious, and you couldn't help but feel like you belonged there.

"Where is Copia?" Angèle inquired.

As you heard his name, your attention snapped back to the conversation. Angèle now had Andras in her arms, and Terzo was pulling out a chair for her to sit next to him. Secondo and Primo were already seated, and you quickly made your way to sit beside Angèle, hanging Andra's bag on the chair.

"He's somewhere around, we haven't seen him since we got here," Secondo replied.

You listened attentively, feeling a bit disappointed. Would you not have the chance to meet Copia tonight? Was he not going to attend the Halloween ball? You consoled yourself with the thought that you would likely encounter him during your stay at the ministry.

Suddenly, someone approached you from the side, and you let out a loud scream of horror, causing Andras to start crying. The person was covered with a white sheet, and your eyes widened in terror as you clutched your chest, breathing heavily.

The person quickly removed the sheet, revealing Copia beneath it. "Ti ho spaventato? Mi dispiace, non era mia intenzione!"

Angèle got up from her seat with Andras still crying in her arms. You got up and rushed over to Angèle, who was trying to soothe the upset little one in her arms. You rushed to Andras' bag, located on your chair, and quickly retrieved his favorite plushie. Returning to Angèle, you presented it to Andras, attempting to comfort him, but it appeared to have little effect on his persistent crying.

Copia expressed his apologies, feeling genuinely remorseful for causing the commotion. "What have I done?" he said, addressing his brothers and Angèle.

"It's totally okay, it wasn't your fault," you reassured him, taking Andras into your arms.

"Terzo, please, give me his pacifier. It's in your blazer's pocket," Angèle requested.

Terzo promptly got up and retrieved the pacifier from his pocket, handing it to Angèle. She gently placed the pacifier in Andras' mouth, successfully calming him down. She then took him back into her arms, also reaching for Andra's bag, hanging on your chair.

"I'm going to step outside with him for a bit," Angèle announced. "I'll be right back."

As Angèle left the room with Andras, you took a deep breath, still feeling a bit overwhelmed by the sudden scare. A hand on your back sent shivers down your spine, and you turned to see Copia standing beside you. You turned your face to find Copia standing there, and for a moment, you were rendered speechless. He was even more striking in person, and you couldn't help but admire his presence. His voice was as charming as his appearance, and you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness in his presence.

"Are you okay?" he inquired, his concern evident in his voice.

In silence, you nodded, unable to find your voice as you continued to gaze at his captivating features. A smile graced his lips, and his hand gently squeezed your arm in a reassuring gesture.

"Bene, molto bene," he said, withdrawing his hand from your arm.

Copia offered a gentle smile, causing your cheeks to flush. He approached the table and pulled out your chair, signaling for you to sit down. You walked over to your chair and gracefully took your seat. Copia joined you, sitting right beside you, while Secondo audibly sighed and shook his head in response to the earlier playful banter.

"Secondo, non cominciare neanche," Primo warned him.

"Non stavo per dire niente," Secondo replied with a faint smirk.

Copia offered his sincere apologies. "Mi dispiace profondamente. I didn't mean to scare the signora, and I certainly didn't intend to frighten my own nipote."

"It's okay; it was my fault. I wasn't expecting it," you reassured him in a gentle tone.

Terzo chimed in with a bit of humor, "Please don't kill our nanny. She's the only one who's stayed with us. You have no idea how hard it is to find a nanny when you tell them about being a retired satanic Papa."

Copia turned his body toward you, placing his hand on your shoulder. "Again, mi dispiace profondamente. I didn't mean to... you know... kill you."

You chuckled nervously. "I hope... not?"

"No, I didn't mean to say it that way," he stammered. "I- I mean, I meant that I didn't want to scare you with my costume to the point where you'd... well, you know."

"Forse sarebbe meglio se smettessi di giustificarti, fratello," Secondo chimed in.

Your hand went to Copia's on your shoulder, and you held it delicately as you looked at him. "Papa, it's okay. I know you didn't mean it, and I know you don't want to, you know, kill me, even though you're a very scary ghost, right?"

"Oh!" he exclaimed, blushing slightly. "Sì, sì, I'm a scary ghost! Be careful, bella... sorella!" he said, straightening his body and trying to sound scary.

You made a frightened face and playfully let go of his hand. "Please, Papa, have mercy on me. I'm just a..." you furrowed your brows. "What did you call me again?"

"Sorella," he repeated, clarifying, "It's how we call the sisters, nuns, just like you tonight, in Italian."

You nodded and resumed your scary expression. "Please, Papa, I'm just a sorella today. I'm innocent!" you said, your tone with a hint like if you were truly scared by him.

Copia chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm going to have mercy today and not go after you to haunt you, but only this time."

"Oh, don't worry, Papa. You can come after me if you want," you said, leaning back in your chair.

Copia gasped, blushing deeply, and your eyes widened as you realized what you had just said. "I'm sorry, Papa. I meant that I'm not that scared, and I won't mind to be haunted, you see? I'm very... I have a lot of courage!"

Copia nodded, his cheeks still flushed with embarrassment. Quickly, he retrieved the sheet from the table and draped it over himself once more, hiding his face behind it. A silence sank between you two, and you felt like all of the brothers were looking straight at you. You couldn't feel more embarrassed than you did now.

"So, where is your costume, fratello?" Terzo asked, breaking the silence, his eyes playfully scanning Copia.

Copia, draped in a simple white sheet, spread his arms wide. "Eh, this is my costume," he declared.

Terzo couldn't help but chuckle. "No, this is just a sheet from the laundry room, probably. Come on, you two have no Halloween spirit," Terzo teased. "Only Primo followed my suggestion."

Secondo, looking dapper in his suit, shook his head in mock disapproval. "Terzo, if I dressed as you asked me, you'd have two Uncle Festers for your son."

Terzo laughed. "Wouldn't that be a sight?"

Curious, you turned to Copia, who stood beside you. "And what did Terzo ask you to dress as?"

Copia grinned mischievously. "Cousin Itt."

Secondo couldn't contain his laughter. "Cousin Itt!? Oh, fratello, I take back everything I said about your costume choices."

Copia leaned closer to you and whispered, "Still, Secondo didn't wear the costume Terzo picked out for him, coglione."

You couldn't help but laugh, your eyes locking onto his as you both shared a playful moment. The proximity and the fact that you could only see his eyes under the sheet added an unexpected intimacy to the situation. Your cheeks were flushed, and you wished you had a sheet to hide behind as well, but you couldn't tear your gaze away from his. However, your attention shifted as Angèle as you notices her returning to the table, though without Andras.

"Hello, what have I missed?" she inquired as she took her seat right next to Terzo, pressing a gentle peck on his lips.

"I due che stanno flirtando," Secondo chimed in, a playful grin on his face.

"Lasciali stare, Secondo," Primo interjected.

"Non stavamo flirtando!" Copia quickly defended himself.

"Sì, stavate flirtando con lei," Terzo said with a smirk on the corner of his lips. "Where's Andras, cara mia?" he asked.

"I put him to sleep; he's being watched by Dewdrop now," Angèle explained.

"Oh, miss, do you want me to go there?" you offered, preparing to get up.

"You don't have to, dear, only if you want," Angèle replied.

"I insist; it's my job," you said, rising from your seat.

"In that case, I would appreciate it."

"Of course, miss."

"Angèle," she corrected.

"Angèle," you repeated.

With that, you politely excused yourself from the table. Copia got up after you, gracefully removing the sheet from himself and placing it on the chair. He then turned his body to face you. His hair was a little messy, and you couldn't help but giggle slightly at the view, for some reason it was charming.

"Wait, may I go with you?" Copia asked. "I want to see my nepote, and I'm afraid you don't know where you are going to stay during the week."

You were taken aback by his gesture. "Oh, that's very... gentle of you," you said, feeling somewhat overwhelmed by his offer. "Thank you, Papa."

Copia extended his arm toward you, and you hesitated for a moment before deciding to take it. The two of you walked away from the table, making your way toward the door leading to the chambers. Side by side, you and Copia entered the corridor, leaving the lively Halloween party behind.

You took a deep breath, savoring the faint scent of his cologne as you did. It was a refreshing and almost mythical fragrance that captivated your senses. You smiled, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the experience. You didn't want to forget this scent; you wanted to keep it in your memory, as it made you feel even closer to him.

Turning your face to him, you noticed that his hair was still slightly messy. Hesitantly, you extended your hand, expecting him to react, but he remained still. Gently, you reached out and smoothed his hair, your touch light and delicate.

"Thank you for coming with me, Papa," you said, glancing up at him with a warm smile.

Copia returned your smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Oh, you don't have to thank me," he replied, his voice smooth and reassuring.

"I do," you insisted, gently squeezing his arm. "After all, this is one of your first parties as a Papa here at the ministry, right?" you inquired, a soft smile on your lips as you withdrew your hand from his hair.

Copia nodded thoughtfully. "Oh, sì, sì."

"So you are the principal attraction of tonight, Papa!" you teased playfully, your tone filled with light-heartedness.

Copia chuckled, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "Eh... I must confess this is all new for me."

"Really? Is it different from when you were a Cardinal?" you inquired, genuinely curious about his experience.

"Not too much when it comes to responsibilities," he explained, his gaze focused ahead as he considered your question. "They've just escalated a little more, but I still do many of the things I used to do before."

"But how do you feel about being a Papa now?" you asked curiously, your eyes fixed on Copia.

"Eh... Honestly?" Copia began, hesitating for a moment. "I'm happy with it, but can you keep a secret?"

A sense of intrigue filled you, and you nodded with a reassuring smile. "All the secrets you feel like telling me."

He blushed deeply before opening up further. "I'm very scared."

"Scared? How? Why?" Your curiosity deepened.

"I'm too afraid that they will not like me as much as they liked Terzo, Secondo and Primo" Copia admitted, his vulnerability showing.

"Copia, you can't compare yourself with your brothers," you said gently, trying to ease his worries. "And if I were you, I wouldn't worry at all. They will love you."

"Do you think so?" Copia asked, his uncertainty still lingering.

"Oh, I don't think they will, I know they will," you replied with a reassuring smile, emphasizing your confidence in him.

Copia halted his steps, his inquisitive gaze locked onto yours. "Eh, how can you be so sure?" he asked.

You paused, choosing your words carefully. "Well, I can't speak for everyone, but from what I've gathered about you through my interactions and what Terzo has shared, you come across as a gentle, kind-hearted, and dedicated man. Terzo spoke highly of your love for this place and your unwavering commitment to reaching this position. If this is something you've wanted for a long time, Papa, then there's no reason to doubt yourself. Embrace it, and you'll excel in your role at the ministry."

Copia found himself at a loss for words, overwhelmed by your kind and comforting presence. Your eyes locked into each other, creating an intimate silence in the corridor. The distant music from the ball could still be heard. Copia raised his arm slightly, as if contemplating a gesture, but then he lowered it and offered a soft, appreciative smile.

The intensity of your gaze made his cheeks flush with a deep shade of red. If he were still in his costume, he was sure he'd feel exposed, as the heat in his cheeks was almost unbearable. He was thankful that at least his face was still adorned with paint. Especially because your warm eyes were still locked onto his.

"Grazie," he finally managed to say, his voice filled with gratitude. "I don't deserve your kind heart."

You returned his smile and offered a reassuring nod. "You'll do great, Papa. Just believe in yourself."

Your eyes remained locked again in a wordless connection for a brief yet meaningful moment before Copia resumed walking, with you following closely. You two kept walking with your arms entwined, the comfortable silence enveloping you both. The only sounds that filled the corridor were the rhythmic echoes of your footsteps and the distant melody of the music from the ball. You took a deep breath, feeling a sense of closeness and ease, and you tightened your grip on his arm, silently cherishing the moment.

"So, can I ask to know more about you?" Copia inquired, breaking the silence.

"Sure," you responded timidly. "What do you want to know, Papa?"

"How long have you been working for my brother?" he inquired.

You glanced at him. "I've been with him for some months now, almost a year."

He nodded thoughtfully. "And are you enjoying it?" he asked.

With a smile, you responded, "I am! Your brother is a very nice man, his wife is really sweet, and little Andras is amazing."

"If you don't mind to answer..." Copia's curiosity didn't wane as he inquired further, "How do you feel about our little lifestyle?"

"The Satanism?" you asked, seeking clarification, and he nodded in confirmation. "I don't mind it at all. I see no harm; it all looks very cheerful and great."

Copia's expression revealed a hint of surprise. "You don't feel scared being here surrounded by our unholy place?"

You chuckled lightly, shaking your head. "No, not at all. The only thing that scared me here today was you."

He sighed, showing genuine remorse. "Eh, about that... I really didn't want to scare you, not at all."

"I know, Papa. You don't have to keep apologizing. I know you were just in your costume."

Copia nodded, appreciating your understanding. "Sì, it was just a costume, after all. But I'm glad you're not afraid of our unique surroundings, or of me."

You smiled warmly. "Honestly, I find it all quite fascinating."

Copia chuckled. "Fascinating? That's not a word I hear often in this context."

"Well, it's different, and different can be interesting," you explained.

"Just like your attire tonight," he said. "You chose a very unique costume for tonight," Copia observed, his eyes sweeping up and down your nun costume.

You glanced down at your outfit and replied, "Did I?"

"Sì, our siblings here also wear habits in their daily lives, but it's just a little bit different from yours. But don't worry, you are looking very beautiful as a sorella."

"Thank you, Papa," you laughed shyly.

Copia's compliment made you blush, and you couldn't help but feel flattered by his words. As the two of you continued down the corridor, you found yourself becoming more comfortable in his presence, enjoying his charming demeanor.

"May I ask one more question?" Copia inquired.

"You can ask all the questions you want, Papa," you replied.

Copia's cheeks took on a subtle flush as he chuckled with a hint of shyness, and he nodded. "Well, I just wanted to know your name. Would you tell me your name?"

You hesitated for a moment, feeling a bit bashful. As you shared your name with him, Copia's lips curved into a broad smile. He nodded and repeated your name in a soft, charming tone. Hearing him say your name felt like the highlight of your night. It had a different, special quality when spoken in his accent, and it made you feel even closer to him.

As you continued to walk down the corridors of the ministry, Copia's steps began to slow, hinting that you were nearing your destination. Finally, you and Copia reached the door to your temporary residence. Copia took the lead, positioning himself in front of you. With a gentle knock on the door, you both waited for a few moments. The door eventually swung open, revealing Dewdrop.

"Good evening, Papa," Dewdrop said. "How can I help you?"

"I came here with Andras' nanny and she will stay here with him until his parents come back," he said.

Dewdrop raised an eyebrow and looked past Copia at you. "Andra's nanny, huh?"

You couldn't help but laugh and replied, "Don't mock me, Dewdrop."

Dewdrop chuckled and said, "I'm not mocking!"

"You're free to return to your duties now," Copia said, his tone carrying a hint of something you couldn't quite decipher.

"Of course, Papa," Dewdrop said.

Dewdrop stepped aside, granting you and Copia access to the place. Copia made his first step, entering the chambers. However, as you moved to enter, Dewdrop unexpectedly held your hand, causing you to let out a surprised squeak. Copia turned his attention to Dewdrop and you.

"How was at the ball?" Dewdrop inquired.

"It was..." you hesitated for a moment. "fun."

"Fun?" Dewdrop leaned in closer, a teasing tone in his voice. "Why don't I believe that your 'fun' is real?"

"Because you like to mock me," you replied, playfully pouting.

Dewdrop chuckled and let go of your hand. "I'm not mocking you right now. I was just wondering if you had fun. But maybe we should talk..." he turned his gaze to Copia before continuing, "...tomorrow."

Copia observed your interaction with Dewdrop closely, a thoughtful expression on his face. You took a step into the chambers, with Copia staring at you. As you exchanged a small smile, you turned your attention back to Dewdrop, who remained outside the door. Copia positioned himself behind you, his eyes locking onto Dewdrop once more.

"Grazie, Dewdrop. We'll take it from here," he said.

Dewdrop gave a polite nod and closed the door behind you. You and Copia were now alone in there. You took a moment to look around, and your eyes widened in amazement. The room was much larger and more lavish than you had anticipated. Intricately designed works of art adorned the walls, and the color scheme was meticulously coordinated, creating an elegant and inviting ambiance that took you by surprise. You couldn't help but appreciate the attention to detail that had gone into decorating the room.

"Did you like it?" Copia inquired, gesturing for you to follow him further into the room.

"It's bigger than I expected," you admitted, glancing around in awe.

"It's going to be mine," he explained.

"Yours?" you questioned.

"Sì, this place was supposed to be mine for now, as it's the Papal apartment. However, I don't need this much space at the moment, so I thought it was better to give it to Terzo and his family, while I stay in my old chambers."

"Are you sure, Papa? I mean..."

"I'm completely sure, don't worry. Besides, my room has everything I need – a bed, a TV, my video game, and even my lava lamp," he said with a playful grin, noticing your intrigued expression.

"Did you say a lava lamp?" you asked, clearly fascinated. "I haven't seen one for so long!"

Copia's grin widened as he saw your excitement. "Sì. I find the shifting colors and blobs of lava oddly soothing."

"They are very... hypnotizing for sure," you said.

He laughed softly. "Let me show you to your room," Copia smiled warmly. "Follow me, cuoricina."

You nodded appreciatively as he led the way to your designated room. He extended his hand to open the door for you, and you acknowledged his gesture with another nod before stepping inside. As you entered the room, your eyes widened in astonishment. The room was decorated in warm, neutral colors, with a comfortable-looking bed, a small desk, and a window that overlooked the beautiful garden outside.

Copia gestured towards the room. "This will be your room during your stay," he explained. "Please, make yourself at home."

"Thank you, Papa," you replied with a grateful smile.

Eager to explore, you wandered around the room, but your curiosity drew you to the window. It was large and clear, and you pressed your hands against the cool glass, looking down at the vast garden below. Even in the darkness, the small lights scattered throughout the garden made it appear enchanting. As you gazed, a slight shiver ran down your spine, and your body tensed a bit as you felt Copia's warm hand on your lower back, his touch gentle and comforting.

"Did you like it?" he asked, his fingers gently rubbing your lower back.

As you turned your face towards him, your eyes met his. Copia's face was softly illuminated by the ambient light from outside the window, accentuating his handsome features. The moment felt like it stretched on for eternity, and you wished you could freeze time to continue gazing at him, to savor his touch a little longer. However, you couldn't just stand there in silence, no matter how much you wanted to.

Breaking the silence, you finally spoke, your voice trembling slightly, "I loved it."

"I think this room has the best view of them all," he whispered, his eyes fixed on you.

"I think you're right, Papa," you whispered back.

Copia withdrew his hand from your back and concealed both of his hands behind his back. He turned his attention to the garden, his eyes fixed on something in the distance. But you couldn't tear your gaze away from him. For someone associated with a satanic church, he appeared ethereal and bathed in an inexplicable grace, as if touched by a blessing rather than something sinful.

"So you are friend with Dewdrop?" Copia inquired, breaking the silence.

"Oh, well, I suppose we're friends of sorts," you replied. "He sometimes visits Terzo's house with ministry-related items.

"Eh! That's right," he nodded. "That makes sense."

You giggled, turning your body to face him. "He told me that he's one of the older ghouls here, and that's quite fascinating, to be honest."

"Fascinating?" he inquired.

"Yes, it's intriguing," you explained. "First, because he's been here for such a long time, and second, because he's also a Ghoul. I have no real understanding of what Ghouls are, but I have my theories."

Copia moved closer to you. "So, you find ghouls fascinating?"

"Yes, I do," you said with genuine curiosity. "I've always wondered where they come from."

Copia hesitated and then said, "I'm afraid I can't reveal that. It's a secret of the ministry."

You pouted and pleaded, "Really, Papa? You won't tell me?"

Copia couldn't resist your charm. He grinned playfully. "Well, alright. You see, when a Ghoul and a Ghoulette love each other..."

You burst into laughter, cutting him off. "Stop it! That's not how it happens!"

Copia chuckled at your reaction. "You're right, that's not how it happens, but I couldn't resist."

You playfully rolled your eyes, followed by a smile. "You're really not going to tell me, right?"

Copia shook his head regretfully. "I wish I could, trust me, but I can't."

"It's okay, Papa," you whispered, drawing nearer to him.

"Shall we head back to the party?" he suggested, his hand reaching for your hand.

"Uh... I can't, Papa. I need to stay here with Andras," you responded.

"Right! I completely forgot," he sighed. "I'm a lousy uncle."

"No, Papa, you're not," you reassured him. "I know you're an amazing uncle."

Copia's gaze remained locked with yours, and a brief silence hung in the air. He moved to say something, but just as he began to speak, the sound of Andras crying echoed from the room next door. Without hesitation, you swiftly exited the room and hurried into the adjacent one. There, you opened the door and approached the small crib. With gentle hands, you lifted Andras into your arms, comforting him as he cried.

With Andras in your arms, you gradually managed to calm him down, and his cries gradually transformed into soft, whimpering sounds. Copia watched the scene unfold from the doorway, his smile reflecting his appreciation for your comforting skills. It was a heartwarming moment as you continued to soothe the little one, both of you providing him with the care and attention he needed.

"Is he all right?" Copia asked as he walked over to you.

You turned to him with a reassuring smile. "Yes, he just needed a little attention. Babies can be quite sensitive, but they usually calm down with some care and comfort."

Copia nodded in agreement, his gaze shifting to Andras as he gently caressed the his head. "You're really good with him."

"I guess so," you replied, still holding Andras. "Are you awake to see your zio Copia?"

"Zio? Do you speak Italian?"

"Oh, not at all," you chuckled, gently rocking Andras. "But Terzo always talks about you three as his zio, so I just got used to it."

Copia chuckled at your response. "That's quite observant of you. Impressive."

"Thank you, Papa," you replied with a hint of pride.

Copia then extended his arms toward Andras. "So, before I go back to the party, can I hold my nepote a little bit?"

"Of course," you replied, gently passing Andras into Copia's waiting arms.

Copia's face lit up with a warm smile as he cradled Andras in his arms. The baby looked small and fragile in comparison to the tall and imposing figure of Copia, but there was a gentle tenderness in the way he held him. Copia's eyes were fixated on Andras, who gazed up at him with curious eyes. It was a heartwarming sight, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and contentment as you watched the two of them together.

"You look well with him in your arms," you remarked, your gaze fixed on the bonding pair.

"Do I?" Copia giggled softly. "I always heard I had a way with kids."

"I think you do too," you said with sincerity, a smile gracing your lips.

As you took a step closer to Copia and Andras, you gently reached for the baby's hand, feeling his tiny fingers wrap around one of yours. Copia's eyes met yours, and there was an unspoken connection between you two. You both shared a smile, and in that moment, you realized that Copia's presence was even more captivating in person than in any photograph. The depth of his gaze and the warmth of his smile were something that couldn't be fully captured in pictures. You found yourself drawn to the genuine warmth and kindness in Copia's eyes.

However, the tender moment between you and Copia was suddenly interrupted by Andras's cries, breaking the connection you shared. Copia gently rocked the baby in his arms, trying to soothe him, while you reached out to touch Andras's tiny cheek, offering comfort and reassurance. Andras's cries filled the room, making it clear that he needed attention and care. Copia looked at you with a slightly apologetic smile as he continued his attempts to calm the baby.

"It seems like Andras prefers your company," Copia remarked, his voice filled with warmth as he tried to ease the baby's distress.

With that, Copia carefully handed Andras back to you, allowing you to resume your soothing efforts. You gently cradled Andras, who had started to show signs of drowsiness. You carefully walked over to the crib, and with a tender touch, you placed him back in it. Andras seemed to settle down once again, his eyelids growing heavier as he drifted into a peaceful sleep.

Copia watched the scene with a soft smile. "Grazie for taking care of m- him," he said, his tone a little nervous.

You turned to him with a warm smile. "It's my pleasure, Papa. And also, my job."

Copia nodded, leaning closer to the crib to admire his sleeping nephew. His fingers gently brushed over Andras's tiny hand, and a warm smile played on his lips. "I should head back to the party. But can I walk you to your chambers?"

"Papa, I'm already here, my room is right next door," you chuckled, stepping closer to him.

"Eh! Sì, sì, my silly mistake, sì?" He chuckled, his eyes filled with amusement.

"Don't be too hard on yourself, Papa!" you teased, playfully patting his arm. "Maybe my outfit is causing the confusion."

You reached for the veil of your nun costume, fingers deftly untangling the knot that held it in place. As you removed the costume piece, Copia's gaze briefly fell upon you, but he quickly averted his eyes, fixating on some unseen point in the room.

"Better now?" you asked.

Copia turned his gaze back to you, his eyes tracing your figure from head to toe. He took a deep breath and nodded. There was a hint of a word that he seemed to hold back. You giggled and decided to distract yourself by tucking Andras into his crib. After turning off a nearby lamp, you walked back towards Copia, stopping in front of him.

"Maybe I can walk you to the front door?" you offered, reaching for his shirt and adjusting it neatly around his neck.

Copia looked at your hand and then nodded thoughtfully. You both left Andras's room, quietly closing the door behind you. Walking together down the corridor, your footsteps produced a faint echo on the polished floors. Approaching the front door, you hesitated for a moment. You stopped in front of it and your hand hovered over the doorknob. You glanced at Copia, who seemed lost in his thoughts as he stared at you.

"Thank you again for accompanying me, Papa," you expressed, your voice sincere and appreciative.

Copia blinked as if snapping out of a reverie, his attention returning to you. "Oh, mi dispiace," he responded, his voice gentle. "I was momentarily lost in thought. You were saying?"

"I was thanking you," you reiterated, a faint smile on your lips. "For coming with me and for letting us stay in your Papal apartment."

Copia offered you a warm smile in return. "You're most welcome. It was a pleasure to be of assistance. I hope you and Andras have a pleasant night."

With that, Copia stepped through the open door into the corridor, and you leaned against the doorframe, your eyes fixed on his retreating figure. Copia turned his body back to you and paused for a moment, contemplating something. Slowly, he extended his hand toward you, his fingers trembling slightly as he reached for yours, holding it.

"I hope you find your room comfortable. If there's anything you need or any questions you have, don't hesitate to ask me or any of the Ghouls. We're here to make your time at the ministry enjoyable If there's anything you need, don't hesitate to ask," he said with a reassuring tone. "And remember, you can always reach me."

Copia brought your hand closer to his mouth and pressed a gentle kiss on the back of it. You nodded, blushing deeply at his words, and bit your lower lip, trying to contain your emotions. Taking a deep breath, you offered him a warm smile. As he released your hand, his lips lightly brushed against your skin, and you felt his grip tighten. Your breath caught in your throat, but you fought to maintain your composure.

“Of course, Papa. Have a great time at the party, and don’t scare anyone else with your costume," you playfully remarked.

Copia chuckled. “I’ll do my best. Arrivederci, bella sorella.”

“Arrivederci, Papa,” you replied as he turned to leave, heading back to the Halloween party.

Copia came to a sudden halt, turning his head to look back at you over his shoulder, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he turned and strolled down the corridor. As he gradually disappeared from your sight, you closed the door gently. Leaning against the door, you took a deep breath, your eyes closed, and you bit your lower lip slightly. There was no doubt about it – Copia was even more captivating in person than in the photos.

Grammar

Ho tentato: I tried

Fratello: Brother

Sì: Yes

Signora: Lady

Il piacere è tutto mio: The pleasure is all mine

Hai lo spirito di Halloween! Sapevo che non mi avresti deluso: You have the spirit of Halloween! I knew you wouldn't disappoint me!

Cretino: Idiot

Bella signora: Beautiful lady

Piccolo demone: Little demon

Ciao piccolo: Hello, little one

Il tuo zio preferito ti ha fatto mancare, mio piccolo demone: Your favorite uncle missed you, my little demon

Zio preferito: Favorite uncle

Bambino: Child

Ti ho spaventato? Mi dispiace, non era mia intenzione!: Did I scare you? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!

Bene, molto bene: Good, very good

Non cominciare neanche: Don't even start

Non stavo per dire niente: I wasn't going to say anything

Mi dispiace profondamente: I'm deeply sorry

Nepote: Nephew

Forse sarebbe meglio se smettessi di giustificarti, fratello: Maybe it would be best if you stop trying to justify yourself, brother

Coglione: Idiot

I due che stanno flirtando: The two of them flirting

Lasciali stare: Leave them alone

Non stavamo flirtando!: We weren't flirting!

Sì, stavate flirtando con lei: Yes, you were flirting with her

Cara mia: My dear

Grazie: Thank you

Cuoricina: Sweetheart

Mi dispiace: I'm sorry

Arrivederci: Goodbye

Taglist: @copiasslut @copiasprincipessa @enchantedbunny @haelithra @new-age-space-age @the-did-i-ask @sodoswitchimage @thesoundresoundsecho @fishwithtitz @nimbusghoul @da-rulahh @th4t-em0-k1d @citrusbunnies @copias-sewer-rat @reeeebeeee @ghostfangirlsweden @copiaspet6222 @lilylovesdew @quaildoodle @fluffysourpatch @terzossoapbar @x1nd1g0x @fantasticdeercollection

211 notes · View notes