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rcvcgers · 5 days ago

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City of Stars, 1

Chapter One: We Meet Again

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pairing ; zayne x stuntwoman!reader

synopsis ; zayne hasn't seen you in five years, not after you ended your relationship with a simple note before disappearing. when he learns that akso hospital has assigned him to be the medic on a film set, your paths collide once again as you relive the stages of your failed relationship.

word count ; 9.6k words

author's note ; omg a new series? who would've guessed! i wanna dedicate this to my girl miffy !! <3 love ya pooks !!

content warning ; light bodily harm! mentions of blood

my stunt performers ੈ✩‧₊˚ @miffysoo , @loversobession , @blessdunrest , @traumaramacenter , @lighting-and-shadow , @starshinedusk , @nm4565natty , @juniper-flour , @snowcandyapple , @rchltruly , @makingfanfictionstosleep , @animegamerfox , @vynn30 , @eolivy , @syluslittlecrows , @bidisasterforevermore , @sylusqt , @zainaaryam

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Doctor Zayne Li has never had a break in his life. Well, that’s not entirely true, but he usually uses his mandatory time off to do research and work on reports that he has brought home from Akso Hospital. He has been like this since childhood, never really taking the time to go outside and play as soon as he realized just how complex the human heart is. While his close childhood friends, Caleb and MC, were outside trying to catch butterflies and pretending to be a prince and princess, Zayne remained on a nearby bench with a book about human anatomy, reading away while the other two chased each other around.

It’s not like he doesn’t like taking the time to relax, he just feels stuck in place and unproductive when he sits and does nothing for hours on end. He has tried many times to get out of this habit, especially during his final year of medical school where he was swamped with exams and clinical rotations at Akso Hospital, but was not able to make it a permanent feature in his life.

So now here he is, a workaholic at the age of twenty seven, just five years into his career as a doctor. He has received many awards and accolades, alongside the title of Chief of Surgery at Akso Hospital, and has made a name for himself among the new residents. They flock to him for guidance because they know that Zayne is the one person who will guide them with no judgment whatsoever. Zayne supposes that because of this, being a workaholic has its perks.

Besides, work helps keep him off of a sore point in his life that he just can’t seen to get over and for that he is grateful.

“Dr. Li!”

Zayne turns around, his glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose, one eyebrow perking up as he watches Dr. Greyson and Yvonne walking towards him with some pep in their step. He sucks in a breath, already knowing that the two of them are about to bug him about unnecessary things such as what he ate for lunch in his office or if he had found a new tie for Akso Hospital’s annual fundraising gala, one that they always try to get him to be the host of just so they can hear what jokes he has kept hidden from them. All of these topics of conversation are a waste of time, especially in a hospital where lives are on the line every second of the day.

“Dr. Li,” Greyson smiles up at the dark haired man.

“Dr. Greyson,” Zayne hums back, removing his glasses from his face. He hangs them from his lanyard where his Akso I.D. hangs, a small snowflake pin from a young girl he performed surgery on fastened to the lanyard’s material. He straightens his posture and looks down at them, metal clipboard in hand. “Is there something that I can help you two with?”

“We were wondering,” Yvonne cuts off Greyson before he can even begin, stepping in front of him, her nurse’s hat pinned into place on her head, “if you would like to take a break. You know…a vacation to reset your mind and body. You performed twenty three surgeries in the past three weeks. You deserve to treat yourself and relax!”

Zayne’s lips flatten into a thin line. He begins to shake his head, Yvonne and Greyson’s once hopeful expressions falling as soon as they see it.

“I do not need a vacation,” Zayne destroys their hopes of taking a break in a matter of seconds. “Akso requires me here, so I am here. Perhaps one of you can take a break instead.”

Zayne nods his head at his two closest friends at Akso, a silent goodbye or see you later that he does not have to verbalize. It is just one of his many quirks he picked up on while working at Akso Hospital. He plucks his glasses from the lanyard and places them back onto his face, pushing them up the bridge of his nose. He turns on his heel and takes a look down at the clipboard in his hand, reading a patient’s file. He begins to walk down the long hallway, nurses and patients passing him by, the occasional ‘Get Well Soon!’ balloon floating right by his head, just narrowly dodging it.

Yvonne and Greyson don’t give up, though. They quickly follow after him, feet scrambling along the freshly waxed vinyl flooring. They immediately take their place at his sides, keeping him trapped between them. Zayne lets out an annoyed huff of air and closes the clipboard, the patient’s name and room number now displayed on the front page.

“What if instead of an official break or a vacation,” Yvonne begins, quickly stepping in front of Zayne, cutting him off of his path. Zayne stops walking and drops his arms to his side, tucking the clipboard between his arm and side. He raises an eyebrow, slightly intrigued about what it is that she has to say. “What if you do something more…casual?”

“More casual?” Zayne repeats her words.

“Yes,” she nods with a bright smile. Greyson opens his mouth to say something but she elbows him in the side, quickly shutting him up as she works her magic. “A job like being a doctor at a carnival or volunteering at an animal shelter. Maybe you can find a volunteer job at a plant nursery! You love plants, right?”

Yvonne can see that Zayne has yet to take a bite the bait she is laying down for him. She lets out a soft sigh when Greyson gently taps her shoulder, moving in front of her so Zayne can now pay attention to him. He clears his throat and places his hands on his hips.

“Did you hear about the film set that is coming to Linkon? They just asked Akso for a doctor to be on set to look out for their stunt performers. Supposedly their doctor had to scheduling conflicts and they wanted to let one of our doctors see what it is like on a film set!” Greyson informs him, knowing that his idea will win against Yvonne’s.

Zayne’s body tenses at the mention of a film set. His grip on the clipboard tightens and the air slowly slips from his lungs. He can feel his Evol creep up his arms, his emotions beginning to overwhelm him. The air around the trio turns cold. He takes a deep breath, though, and calms his nerves, regaining his composure as soon as he lost it.

His mind wanders to a figure from his past, an ending to a story that he did not wish to see. He pushes the phantom out of his mind, the skeleton in his closet that threatens to pop out, telling himself to not think about the way he let the love of his life slip through his fingers over a silly, stupid, maybe not to stupid, big argument.

“I will have to pass on that,” Zayne’s voice is somehow even more neutral than before, void of all emotion. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have a patient to meet with.”

And with that, Zayne slips away from the two of his coworkers, shaking his head as he heads in the direction of the patient’s room. He remembers as much information as he can from his glance at the paperwork when he pushes open the door, greeting the elderly man who sits inside with a cold expression on his face, unable to get rid of the chill that runs down his spine as his mind floats back to the memory of you.

It has been a relatively calm day for Doctor Zayne Li. It has gone by at an agonizingly slow pace, but he is grateful that his patients actually listened to him and asked helpful questions instead of the classic and cliche scenarios that he always finds himself in.

There is always that one person who asks dumb questions. Now, Zayne has heard some dumb questions in his life, especially from the resident students who follow him for rounds around the cardiac ward where the majority of his patients are. His students, the ones whom he has accepted under his wings after light questioning about what they want their careers as doctors to look like, always ask him to make for sure that the choice the made was the correct one. They knew it was correct depending on his reaction. But the people that truly get under his skin are the patients, mainly the older ones, who always bring up the pharmaceutical ads and commercials that they see.

They always ask if they are allergic to the medicine that he prescribes to them. It dumbfounds him every single time. They should know what they are allergic to — hell, even he knows what they’re allergic to — and they should also know that he will never prescribe them something that will put them in the hospital or kill them. He wonders if the film crew is the same exact way with stupid questions that they could have very easily searched up on the internet.

Maybe Zayne isn’t the biggest people person. That is the exact reasoning he will share with Greyson and Yvonne on why he can’t be the medial doctor on the film set they told him about. He is cold and slightly off-putting. He always says what is on his mind and never spares people’s feelings. He is sure to make enemies on set and nobody will want to come to the medical tent, even if all they needed was a simple band aid.

The truth is, Zayne has been thinking about it all day. He has been more distracted than usual with the prospect of working on something that is close to the world you live in. He knows that he couldn’t possibly accept the role, that it should go to someone who actually wishes to see what it is like behind the shining lights and cameras that they see on the silver screen. Zayne knows that his place is here at Akso Hospital, nowhere else.

So imagine his surprise when his superior, Dr. Jiang Yan, comes marching in through his office door with their hands on their hips and a slightly annoyed look on their face. Zayne’s posture straightens in his chair, his shoulders slightly tensing when his door bounces off of the wall. Zayne’s gaze meets Dr. Yan’s and he moves to stand up from his seat but is immediately waved back down, the doctor taking the seat in front of Zayne’s desk. They place a single file on the desk in front of him. Zayne gulps.

It is silent for a moment. Dr. Yan simply stares at Zayne, slightly narrowing their gaze for a few moments before reaching out towards the file, flipping open to the first page. They sit up in their seat and lean forward, eyes now focused on the contents of the page instead of Zayne.

“It says here that you haven’t had a vacation for the past three years,” Dr. Yan begins, eyes flickering to look up at the stoic man before them. “Why is that?”

“The hospital always needed an extra pair of hands,” Zayne reasons. Dr. Yan shakes their head. Try again. Zayne shifts in his seat and diverts his gaze for a brief moment before looking back at his superior. “I was paged.”

“You were paged?”

“Yes,” Zayne nods.

“You mean,” they clear their throat and flip to the next page, “Dr. Greyson found you sleeping in the on-call room when you were supposed to be gone for a holiday break. One that you requested, by the way.”

“As I said,” Zayne muses with a small hum, “I was paged.”

“You’re a workaholic,” Dr. Yan says with a sweet smile, “and I am ordering you to leave the hospital for a little while.” Zayne opens his mouth to respond, to argue that it will not be necessary, that he does not have a problem nor does he think he will ever reach a point of so called ‘burn out’, but Dr. Yan raises their hand to silence him. “You’re going to leave and work somewhere else for a bit.”

Oh. Oh. Zayne knows where this is going. He begins to shake his head, ready to argue all over again that the film set in Linkon is the last place he needs to be, but Dr. Yan refuses to hear any of his words.

“You will be the official doctor on the set of Death By Bullets!” Dr. Yan announces with a clap of their hands.

“Death By Bullets?” Zayne asks with a perked up eyebrow.

“I don’t know,” Dr. Yan shrugs and waves their hands at Zayne, trying to help him pass the fact that the movie’s name is fucking ridiculous, “but! It sounds like a fun time! And you are highly qualified for the position. Well, you may be one of the only people here who is qualified on what they need—”

“On what they need?” Zayne interrupts. Dr. Yan nods. “There are plenty of other doctors here. Why don’t you ask Doctor—”

“No, Zayne, you’re going to do this and you are going to accept it, okay? You’ll still be paid for your time away from the hospital, so think of this as charity work. Get yourself a hot chocolate on the late nights they’ll need you for. Just…get out of the hospital for a bit, okay?” Dr. Yan stands from their seat and Zayne follows suit, watching as the doctor exits his office. They stop by the door and take one last look at Zayne, flashing a smile. “I emailed you the address where their stunt rehearsals will be taking place at. They need you bright and early!"

The door closes and Zayne collapses into his seat, a sigh escaping his lips.

The morning is bright and fresh, a slight chill taking over the air as the fall season comes into fruition, the summer heat finally disappearing in the morning just to return hours later when the sun is high up in the sky. The breeze feels nice against your skin as you jog alongside Peter, one of the stuntmen you will be working alongside for the movie. The sound of your footsteps collide with the asphalt below your feet as you round the large warehouse where rehearsals are taking place.

The side door is open, allowing light into the warehouse where a plethora of cardboard boxes, mats, wires, and fake weapons sit. In one corner sits a boxing area with hanging sandbags and a plethora of exercise equipment ready for your disposal.

The two of you had just met a few days prior, the man always having been paired with one of the hottest actors in the industry, while you mainly worked on much smaller films. He got to hang off of the side of airplanes while you mainly got hit by cars…and minivans…and did the occasional fall from a tall ledge. Oh! One time you were set on fire but ended up losing the bottom half of your hair.

You are excited, though, to finally get the chance to show off your skill in front of some of the most powerful and influential producers in the industry, feeling the excitement settle into your bones as the director and stunt coordinator explained to you some of the stunts that you and Peter will be doing before you signed your name on the dotted line.

Now here you are, running alongside one of the best stuntmen in the world, ready to have your safety meeting so you can finally get started on learning the fight sequences.

Peter jogs up ahead, doing one last final sprint, as the two of you approach the director, stunt coordinator, and one of the producers. They all smile at the sight of you two. You place your hands on the back of your head, slowly breathing in and out to regulate your breathing. Your heart pound on the inside of your chest, following in after the trio, taking your seat while other stuntmen and women enter into the warehouse. Peter takes the empty chair next to you, passing off an ice cold water bottle, and you take it with a big smile on your face, quietly thanking him. The stunt coordinator stands in front of a large television screen — well, it’s four televisions merged into one — and it lights up the room as soon as it is turned on.

“Where’s the doctor?” the producer, Emilia, asks her assistant. The assistant immediately begins clicking away on their tablet, immediately freaking out over the small request.

“Shouldn’t he be here by now?” the director, whose name is Tally, asks.

“We’re ten minutes ahead of schedule,” the producer’s assistant speaks up.

“Well, you know what they say,” Emilia says with a smile, “you’re early, you’re on time. You’re on time, you’re late. And if you’re late?”

“You’re fired,” the assistant’s face falls.

You raise an eyebrow at the scene, turning towards Peter who shrugs in response. He looks down at his phone, texting someone. You look away, cheeks still flushed from your chilly morning run, your heart now settled and lungs no longer burning. Your legs bounce up and down. Excitement courses throughout your body as the seconds tick away, growing closer and closer to being able to get started.

The room begins to slowly fill up. The main two actors, whom you and Peter will be doing the stunts for, enter in while ignoring each other, sitting on opposite sides of the room. Emilia and Tally talk while Doug, the stunt coordinator, checks in with a few people around the room, the safety meeting ready to begin at any moment.

That’s when it happens. That is when the last person you thought would walk through the door enters into your field of vision, taking the breath out of your lungs in an instant. Your cheeks burn when his hazel eyes meet yours. The man hesitates, his body malfunctioning for just a brief moment, before he continues on his path inside of the warehouse, shrugging off his jacket and placing it over his shoulder. Time moves slow as he silently walks up to the group, taking his spot at the front table.

“Ah!” Emilia claps her hands together, “Dr. Li! You’re here! Everyone, meet Doctor Zayne Li! He will be our medical doctor on set since Bob couldn’t show up.”

The room perks up at the mention of Zayne’s name. You remain frozen in your seat, unable to look away from him as the wounds you thought were healed rip open all over again. He greets the room with a nod, his eyes landing back onto you. He lingers on your face for a moment, taking in the way you have lost all of the baby fat in your cheeks, looking much more mature now than when the two of you were in your early twenties. When he turns his face away, you are able to breathe again, feeling like you were just underwater for an extended period of time.

“Alright! Let’s start the meeting!”

Doug slowly walks through his elaborate powerpoint but you can’t bring yourself to focus. You stare at the back of Zayne’s head, his dark hair perfectly cut and away from his ears, just as he likes it to be. His posture is perfect, which kills you on the inside, and he even asks the appropriate questions when Doug opens it up to the room. You swallow the lump in your throat and slowly sink into your seat, tearing your gaze away from Zayne and onto the screen. Doug goes over set etiquette, how you stuntmen need to be aware of your surroundings at all times and listen for directions either from him, Tally, or the first assistant director.

“When we do a stunt, we are going to call action five times. The fifth one will be the stunt’s signal to begin,” Doug says, clicking to the next part of his powerpoint. “Everyone here knows the basic terminology of the set. But let’s go over it one last time.” The room groans. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I don’t feel like being sued again.”

Your eyes flicker back to Zayne. He turns his head to the side. You catch a glimpse of his eyes, the way they scan the front of the room where the biggest groans come from. He continues to move his head, looking back at you. You sharply inhale, unable to break you gaze away from Zayne’s. He lingers for a moment. Finally, he turns back around, raising his hand.

“Yes, Dr. Li,” Doug calls out and points to Zayne.

“Yes,” Zayne clears his throat, “what do the terms ‘hot’ and ‘cold’ mean when it comes to weapons and props?”

The room groans again. You stifle a chuckle, covering your mouth. Zayne turns around, his eyes landing on you once again. The corners of his lips very subtly perk up before he turns back around, listening intently to Doug’s answer. Once he is done, Doug steps to the side for Emilia, who gestures to Zayne.

“Alright everyone,” she begins, her tone cheery yet stressed at the same time, “it is time for the doctor’s introduction!”

There are a few scattered claps across the room, including yourself, as Zayne stands up, moving to the front of the room. The tips of his ears are a light pink color, the man shaking his head and the color away. He turns to face the room. You fix your posture, wanting at least one person in the room to be interested in what it is that he has to say.

“Hello,” Zayne clears his throat. The room responds with a low greeting back. “My name is Doctor Zayne Li but you can just call me Zayne. I will be your main doctor on set. I apologize if my part of the presentation feels bare. I was made aware of this job yesterday and have not had the time to prepare a formal introduction.”

You watch as Zayne pulls out a few papers from his briefcase, placing them on the table in front of him. He stares at them for a brief moment before turning his attention back to the group that sits before him. Zayne allows his gaze to float back to you, the way you offer him a kind smile and small nod to encourage him. It almost makes his heart skip a beat.

“I will be requiring informal physical examinations of the stunt doubles to ensure that they are in proper health to do the stunts. I do not know what it is that you will be performing, but a basic physical will suffice for now. I was told that there is a room for me to use with everything I need so…I will see you all soon.” Zayne turns to Emilia and nods, moving back to his seat.

“Perfect! Well,” Emilia looks to Tally, who stands up and takes the front of the room with a bright and eager smile on her face, “Tally is our director and she will be walking you through the story and action scenes!”

About an hour passes and, honestly, god bless Tally’s heart. Her excitement is infectious and has you anticipating getting started. You want to desperately hang from the wires, to use the fake guns and swords that lay on the tables, and to get to know the actress you will be doubling for. You cannot wait to be fitted for a costume and be thrown from buildings. This is exactly what you have been working towards for your entire career.

You smile and talk with the other stunt doubles. You make friends with a few of them, even finding out that you’re roomed next to one of them in the hotel in the heart of the city. Every so often, when Zayne calls over the next person, your gazes involuntarily meet for the briefest of seconds before Zayne looked away, greeting the next person before closing the door.

As people come in and out of Zayne’s impromptu office, you find yourself being the last one he needs to check. It has you feeling nervous, unsure if he is going to be warm and kind or cold and off-putting when it is finally your turn to see him.

The group laughs at Doug, who somehow managed to mess up doing a somersault while teaching the lead actress. Peter makes a joke about how Doug must have missed the safety meeting. You chuckle and catch yourself looking around the room to see what Zayne thought of the joke when you stop yourself. Just as you are about to walk over and help Doug out, you hear Zayne call out your name.

Your skin goes cold. You bite your lip and turn on your heel, looking at the tall and brooding man who stands off to the side, the blinds to the makeshift doctor’s office closed shut. He stands in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. Your heart tightens at the sight. Step by step, you slowly walk towards him, your mind slipping into the trance that you were once under all of those years ago. You slip your jacket off of your shoulders, tossing it onto the table where your belongings are, and move back in his direction. As soon as you are close to him, Zayne takes a step to the side, allowing you to slip into the private room.

“Good morning,” you hum.

“Good morning,” Zayne breathes out, closing the door behind you, “please take a seat.”

The room is close to empty. There are two motivational posters on the wall, one with a monkey and the other with a penguin. There’s a table with paper wrapped around it, crumbled pieces stuffed into the metal trashcan. You take a seat onto the table and Zayne makes himself at home on the chair, wheeling himself close to you.

The closer he gets, the more and more your heart races inside of your chest. It feels like it’s the first time the two of you were alone with each other, cramped in your shitty dorm room that you shared with a girl named Gloria. His eyes are even more saturated than before, the hazel hues piercing into your own. You bite the inside of your cheek and watch as he pulls out a piece of paper and pen, passing it off to you after he clips it to a clipboard.

“Please fill this out,” Zayne instructs in his usual neutral tone.

You follow as ordered, your hands growing sweaty from nervousness. You can feel his eyes on your body, the way he watches as you fill out the blanks of the page. The pen swipes across the paper. You fill in your age, weight, height, social security number, allergies, you know, the usual. A quiet sigh slip from your mouth and his body tenses. He diverts his gaze for a brief moment.

Has he made you uncomfortable? Is the situation too awkward to handle? He certainly feels the slightest bit of uneasiness in his body but he pretends to not feel it. He refuses to let show on his face. At least, he tries not to.

Once you’re done, you pass the clipboard back to him, watching as he stands up, quietly taking in the information.

“You grew an inch?” Zayne says with a quiet murmur, his eyes flickering to you. He stares at you from over the thin silver frames of his glasses. You nod and smile, awkwardly chuckling. “Interesting.”

“Interesting?” you ask, trying your best to contain the smile that grows on your face. “How so?”

“People rarely grow an inch after they reach a certain age,” he continues without missing a beat, “in some cases, they regress.”

“Oh, well,” you shrug your shoulders and look at the penguin on the poster, “the more you know.”

“Have you had any previous surgeries that will prohibit you from performing these stunts to the best of your abilities?” Zayne’s question makes you look at him.

Without even answering his question, you notice that he is already writing information down on the paper in front of him. His handwriting is still lopsided, slanted as hell, as any doctor’s handwriting is like. A soft chuckle vibrates from the back of your throat. Zayne looks up with a raised eyebrow.

“May I ask what is so funny?”

“Are you—” you bite the inside of your cheek and lean forward, hands resting on the sides of your knees, keeping you attached to the table, “—writing down the shoulder surgery I had six years ago?”

Zayne looks away for a split second before his gaze connects with yours once again. His cheeks heat up. Would it be weird for him to write such things down? He already knows this information up to a point. He knows all about your injuries before you two…parted ways.

“Was that inappropriate of me to do?” he asks with the most genuine tone ever because, well, the last thing Zayne would ever want to do to you is make you feel uncomfortable.

“Not at all,” you shake your head, “I’m just surprised that you remembered.”

“Of course I remember,” Zayne’s voice drops, suddenly earnest and tender.

You go quiet, unable to respond. How could you? What is there to possibly say to the man who sits in front of you, the man you used to run to whenever you needed a shoulder to lay on, the man who you thought you would spend the rest of your—

No…you can’t think about that. The past is in the past. What you need to do now is focus on the present and future.

“Are there…any other surgeries you may have had in the past?” Zayne’s eyes soften. He slowly moves the chair close to you, the wheels scraping against the carpet flooring.

“My, uh, knee,” you slowly nod your head at the joint, trying to get rid of the feeing of your heart and lungs squeezing in on themselves.

Every inch that Zayne moves closer to you, the more and more you want to jump out of your body, to run away from him and his intense gaze that you know you’re going to succumb to. Zayne’s fingers are deft when they connect with your right knee, the one you have always had a problem with. He narrows his gaze and looks up at you, his fingers snaking beneath the loose hole of your sweatpants.

“May I?” he asks. You nod and let out a shaky breath.

Zayne slowly moves the pants leg up, revealing the scar on your knee. It is a single line down the front of your knee, something that has not quite faded away with time like the doctor’s said. Your eyes move to Zayne. His lips flatten into a thin line, the tips of his index and middle fingers gently grazing over the incision line. He hums something to himself — almost as if he is contemplating what he would have done differently if he were in charge of the surgery — then pulls his fingers away, lowering your knee back down.

“Where did you get the surgery?” Zayne quietly asks, grabbing a new piece of paper from his briefcase, attaching it to the clipboard from before.

“Skyhaven University Medical Center,” you nod, knowing that is the place where Zayne did his clinical rounds when he was still in medical school.

Zayne’s breath hitches. He unconsciously places his hand back onto your knee, giving it a gentle squeeze. He closes his eyes and shakes his head. The funny thing is…you already know exactly what it is that he’s thinking. He’s thinking that you should have gone to Linkon instead and had him handle everything like the knight in shining armor he is.

You lean forward and gently place a hand on his shoulder. He looks up, his jaw unclenching and his brow softening. You let out a quiet sigh.

“Would you be disappointed if I told you that I let a first year surgical student do the operation on me?”

“Why would you do that?” Zayne looks horrified, just taken aback by the balls that you have on you. “You should have come to Akso Hospital. You should have told me.”

“What would I have said, Zayne?” your voice goes quiet, tired. “Would you have even given me the time of day? Especially after how things en—”

“You know I would have,” he interrupts you, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s because I…” he pauses. You watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down, the wheels in the back of his head turning, trying to solve the puzzle that lays in front of him. “The oath I took would have had me help you.”

Zayne abruptly stands up, turning his back to you. You let out a sigh and look away, making eye contact with the monkey. You glare at it, unsure what is so motivational about “hanging in there” but you digress. Zayne turns back around, stethoscope in hand. He takes his place behind you standing beside the table. He flattens his palm against your back, feeling for the best spots available to listen to your lungs through the fabric of your shirt.

“Breathe in,” Zayne murmurs.

You follow his words, taking in as much air as possible before exhaling when he tells you do to so. You repeat this process a few times, allowing Zayne’s hands to travel across your body. It’s only when he moves the stethoscope to your chest to listen to your heartbeat when you tense up.

“What’s wrong?” Zayne quietly asks, “your heartbeat is erratic.”

“I’m nervous,” you softly admit, staring straight ahead at literally anything else that isn’t related to Zayne just to get your mind off of the fact that he is back in your life and has somehow ended up as the medic on set.

“Why is that?” he continues. Zayne holds his hand to your chest and the other makes itself at home on the table behind you. You can feel his body heat mix with yours, sending chills down your spine, making your heart skip a beat. “Are you nervous about the stunts?”

You shake your head, unable to breathe properly. Zayne leans in. You can smell his cologne, the scent of jasmine mixed in with cedar making you close your eyes, wishing to desperately go back in time and reverse every choice you made in your previous relationship with Zayne.

“Then what is it?” Zayne whispers.

“You,” you immediately respond, opening your eyes just to meet his.

“Me?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, nodding. The stethoscope is removed from your chest, the burning sensation from the metal now leaving your body. “You make me more nervous than any stunt has,” you continue, swallowing the lump in your throat, “I didn’t know you were going to be here.”

Zayne slowly pulls away from you wrapping the medical instrument around the back of his neck, allowing it to hang from his shoulders. He looks down at you. A hint of confusion flashes across his face before it mixes in with the taste of bitter disappointment.

You are clearly telling him the truth. Zayne knows all of your tics and tells, the way you instinctively reach for the hem of your clothing or the way you begin to fidget with the ends of your hair. He knows when you’re telling the truth versus when you lie, the way your eyes light up when you see something you love and the way your posture slouches when something doesn’t go your way. He knows everything.

It doesn’t matter that five years has passed between the two of you. Zayne will always be there for you no matter what.

How can he respond to your words, though? The way you’ve become so quiet around him. What happened to the confident woman he has grown so fond of? What happened to the loud and proud woman who would always speak up for him when he didn’t want to cause any trouble?

Do you not want to see him? Are you wanting for him to leave? For you, he will. He only wants to do what makes you happy and comfortable, not the other way around. All Zayne has ever done in the past five years was what you wanted him to do. Will you deny him the pleasure and pain of seeing your face again after all of this time?

“If you want me to leave, I’ll leave,” he lets out a quiet sigh, having to tear his eyes off of you. He looks down at your papers, noticing new developments in your health and what it is you are allergic to.

“No,” you shake your head, the words falling out of your mouth before you can stop them, “I want you to stay. It’s…nice seeing you again.”

“It is?” Zayne turns back around. You nod as soon as his hazel eyes meet yours. “It’s nice to see you as well.”

Zayne’s gaze drops back down to your knee. His mind begins to wander, wondering what daredevil trick you attempted that earned you a torn ACL. Were you with your friends that enjoyed jumping from building to building? Was it for work? Did you injure yourself doing a dangerous stunt for someone else? All the man can do is stand there and hope that you took every necessary precaution before jumping directly into danger…but you never were one to do things the safe and easy way, right?

Beside the ACL scar sits a darker mark, one that Zayne remembers all too well. A faint smile ghosts his lips at the sight of the imperfect circle, the way it has remained for seven years now.

The sound of skateboards skating around the small cement area is loud and wild with a whole group of rowdy college kids gathered around the impromptu skating area. It sat beside an on-campus convenience store, one that was cramped and small with no space between the aisles, and you always found yourself towards the back where the ice cold drinks were, the door hanging open as you stick your head inside of the refrigerator, cooling down under the heat.

“Damn, girl,” some guy named Tony comments, leaning his forearm against the cold fridge door, “are you hot or somethin’?”. He looks down at you with a smug smile, his canine tooth bedazzled with a single jewel.

Ugh, what a douche…and what the fuck was that line?

You raise an eyebrow at him and reach inside of the fridge, plucking out a sports drink from the rows. Pushing past him, you pick up your backpack from the ground, slinging it over your shoulder. You press your foot down onto the edge of the board, popping it up into your hand. Tony follows you towards the counter where you scan your student I.D. where the student employee lazily points. As soon as you turn around, Tony corners you once again.

“Leaving me hangin’, girl,” Tony licks his lips when he looks down at you. It makes your skin crawl from just how gross freshmen college boys are.

Well, you’re also a college freshman, but that’s a secret you’re keeping to yourself.

“Oh am I?” you ask, making puppy dog eyes at him. He nods and leans in. “Yeah, I don’t really care.”

You push past him, roughly bumping your shoulder into his, an irritable groan escaping your lips. How can men be so dense? The audacity of this bitch to corner you twice in the tiny convenience store. How could he not get the hint just once?

You exit the store and look around, using the bottle to shield your eyes from the sun. The blue from the drink reflects on your face as you look around. The crowd is slowly growing by the second with students leaving classes from nearby buildings. You met a girl by the name of Alivia in one of your classes, just one of the non-special general ed ones that everybody has to get out of the way. She mentioned liking hanging out with a group of skaters she met in her dorm room and offered for you to come since you had your board with you in class. Now here you are, looking like a weirdo standing in front of the convenience store where a ‘no solicitors’ sign hangs.

The skateboard drops to the ground and you step on top of it, pushing away from the store. You twist open the sports drink, taking a few sips before lowering to your side. You skate through the gaps, apologizing to people when you come a little too close for comfort, swerving out of the way at the last second. With one last push, you think you’re in the clear and heading away from the growing crowd, ready to take a nap in your shitty dorm b—

Something hard collides into your side. The skateboard is launched into the air, slicing through the air. You gasp, a pair of hands trying to attach themselves to yours as you fall to the ground in slow motion. A pair of hazel eyes meet yours, his shaggy black hair blocking the sun out of his face. Your butt connects with the ground, the sudden connection causing you to turn in a circle, your knees scraping against the floor as you brace for impact. The fabric of your thin shirt is immediately destroyed as your body skids across the asphalt. You come to the stop in front of a tree, the shade helping the searing heat from your injuries feel just slightly cooler.

The man immediately runs up to you, dropping his bag before he drops to your side. You wheeze, whiplash taking over your body as you struggle with getting air back into your lungs. His navy blue scrubs come into view as you roll onto your back. You lift a hand up, covering the sun that slips through the green lanes. That’s when his face comes into view.

His handsome, pretty, and oh so blurry face blocks out the sun. He leans into focus, the slight curve of his nose catching your attention. You tilt your head to the side, the pain in your body slowly slipping free from your body, a sense of weightlessness overtaking your senses. Perhaps this is the concussion talking or the intense aching in your knees and elbows, but this stranger looks like an angel with his dark hair and sharp eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Oh yeah,” your voice is breathy, raspy, “you’re an angel alright.”

“Excuse me?” his eyes widen, tips of his ears turning red. He presses two fingers against your neck. Your pulse thumps against his fingers. “You’re not dead. Your pule is elevated, though.”

“Oh yeah?” you let out a breathy chuckle, leaning your head back against the grass. You close your eyes. The air slowly begins to return to your chest, slowly breathing in. He gently taps your face and you open your eyes, your eyelids feeling extremely heavy. “I wonder why.”

He chuckles, a faint smile cracking his stoic expression before it falls back again. He reaches for the back of your neck, leaning in, making sure he meets your eyes. You goofy grin spreads across your face.

“Can you sit up?” You nod in response. “Good. Now, let’s move slowly. Tell me if it hurts.”

He slowly sits you up. Over his shoulder, you watch as the skateboarding crowd watches you, making ‘ooh’ sounds when they look at your disheveled appearance. Embarrassment floods your body and your cheeks grow hot. The man reaches out and tilts his head in your line of sight.

“You may have a concussion. You should try your best to stay awake,” he quietly informs you.

“What about the symptom of ‘dying of embarrassment’? What would you prescribe for that, doctor?”

“I would suggest hiding under the covers,” he says in his neutral voice. His eyes flicker to you, though, and the corner of his lips barely perk up as he les out a breath of air.

Did he just make a joke?

A small laugh leaves your lips. Okay, maybe you snorted since your lungs still haven’t opened up all the way. He found it wildly adorable, though.

“Can you tell me your name?” You do so with a loopy smile on your face. “I’m Zayne.”

“Hi, Zayne. It’s nice to meet you. Do you know where my skateboard is?” you ask, leaning you body into his touch at your waist. His fingers are so slender yet strong, holding your firm, spread out along your sides, basically swallowing you whole. It sends chills down your spine but you attribute it to the near death experience you had.

He looks away. You follow his gaze to where the colorful skateboard sits. Its wheels are up in the middle of the road with a bus coming directly at it. His face falls and he turns to you to try and distract you from your skateboard’s imminent death but is met with the horrified expression on your face. The bus runs it over, a loud crack echoing across the quad.

“I’m afraid to call the time of death,” he comments. Your gaze turns into a glare at him. He shakes his head, eyes widening. “Bad joke. I apologize.”

“It’s okay,” you sigh, “I think you owe me a new one now.”

Zayne slowly helps you to your feet. You wobble around a bit but he catches you. He plants his hands on your hips while you inspect your torn up elbows despite your knees looking far worse.

The skating crowd has evaporated now, the campus quad now empty. You raise an eyebrow, unsure as to how much time has passed. You spin around in his grip, his hands hovering over your sides. You stop and look up at him, brushing your hair out of your face. Zayne matches your head tilt and your gaze drops to his scrubs. There’s a pen tucked into the chest pocket of his shirt and just to the side you can see his now destroyed lunch scattered across the concrete sidewalk.

“I…I think I owe you lunch,” you glance back up at him, suddenly feeling another wave of embarrassment crossing your face. “Call it even?”

“Sure,” he nods, “but I must take you to the hospital. You clearly have a concussion and need to seek medical attention.”

You don’t respond. His fingers are cold. You like the way they cool your burning skin. You bite your bloodied lip. Did you bite it during the fall? You can’t really remember.

“Can you get my…” you point to the road where wooden splinters lie, two halves of a board that you don’t think superglue or hot glue will help keep together. Not even duct tape could bring it back to life.

Zayne nods and slowly removes his hands from your waist. You watch as he walks to the empty road, looking both ways before leaning down topic up some of the pieces. He quickly makes his way back over to you. Zayne steps behind and opens up your backpack, gently placing the pieces inside. You stare at his discarded lunch and frown.

“What’s wrong? Does something else hurt?” he asks, urgency filling his voice.

“No,” you shake your head, “maybe a little dizzy but I feel bad about your lunch.”

“We should clean those off,” he murmurs, changing the conversation.

His breathing is short. Choppy. His eyes are attached to where your skin on your elbows has been rubbed off. The two lopsided circles alarm him with the vibrancy of the red color, the top layers of your skin peeled off, leaving behind two big red spots that drip with a slow trail of blood. It is nothing compared to your knee, though, where Zayne swears he can see the asphalt buried into your flesh. “We may need to use a metal brush for that.”

“What?!” your eyes shoot up to him, your hands shooting to his arms, your grip on his bare forearms tightening. “Metal brush?”

“Yes,” Zayne nods, voice completely neutral, “the dirt can cause an infection. We need other get as much as it can out and only metal can do so.”

You shake your head no, horrified of that idea.

“It’ll be okay. Follow me, let me take you to the hospital. I’ll make sure we won’t use it. I promise.”

Zayne helps you to the nearby medical center that is connected to Skyhaven Medical School. Many students like him live in this hospital, their residencies having taken over their lives. Zayne found himself the most here, always learning from the Attending Doctor that was on that shift. He has already performed plenty of surgeries in his specialized field of study in the cardiology department, even a few of which were through the emergency room after devastating tragedies.

He carries you through the sliding doors. You hang from his back, arms lazily draped over his shoulders, your head hung low because the light has become just a bit too much. You also told him that your legs felt like jelly and he insisted that he carry you, claiming that there could be an injury to your spinal cord or perhaps there is something wrong with you nerves.

Zayne effortlessly crosses through the emergency room like it’s no big deal. The layout is like second nature to him. He could walk through it with his eyes closed. His nostrils are numb to the smell of bleach and cleaning supplies. The dark haired man nods his head at a nurse in scrubs as they pass in the wall, your head trying to keep up with the quick pace he walks. Soon enough, you’re sitting inside an empty patient’s room in the cardiology department, one that is away from bright lights and is close to a vending machine.

He gently sits you down onto the bed, swinging your legs over the edge and slipping your backpack from your shoulders before laying you down. He places it into the single chair and reaches for the curtain, drawing it closed to keep the harsh fluorescent lights out of your eyes. He leans over you, his voice deep and quiet. It stirs something inside of you.

“I’ll get you acetaminophen for the pain. Would you like something to eat?” Zayne memorizes your face, the way your eyelashes flutter as you fight off sleep. “Try your best to stay awake. I will stay with you until a doctor from neurology can come see you.”

“What would you suggest?” you ask. Zayne raises his eyebrow. “You should know the vending machines pretty well by now, right? I have a sweet tooth.”

Zayne swears that for a spit second, he thought that his life wasn’t so bad. The way you awkwardly smile at him, squinting through your lashes. A pair of nurses approaches with a cart of tools and the twitch in his face dies. He nods to the nurses, who have brought supplies to clean your rashes alongside gauze and bandages to cover them up. He straightens his posture and turns back to you.

“You have a concussion—”

“I do, yes,” your smile grows.

“—it would be best to eat something healthy,” Zayne doesn’t even feel annoyed that you’re so vocal, that you always have a comment to make when he tries to be serious. It is just the slightest bit irritating but at the end of the day, he can’t even find it in himself to get mad at you for it.

“A little sweet treat never hurt nobody, Doctor Zayne,” you comment with a tired breath of air, sitting up in the bed as the nurses begin to sterilize your elbows. “I would love some powdered donuts. This is my treat, after all. I owe you lunch.”

“No,” Zayne shakes his head, matching your light-hearted banter with you, “you owe me a meal from the cafeteria.”

“It’s a date,” you say, feeling quite bold in the moment. The pain feels like nothing despite the tears that sting your eyes when the nurse begin to flush them out.

Zayne diverts his gaze for a brief moment, his breath hitching in his throat. You watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down, his hands instinctively fixing his disheveled scrubs in front of you. He nods in confirmation. If he is to be truthful, he is unsure of when he will actually be free to go on this said ‘date’ that has just been made, but he is still just a bit unsure if you will actually remember making this date with him.

He doesn’t let the thought nibble at the back of his mind. He nods and with a turn of his heel, he disappears around the corner, quickly finding himself in front of the vending machine. The man feels light on his feet, as if he can work another twelve hour shift, completely energized after talking with you. He loved the way you furrowed your brow when he said something that clearly annoyed you. The way there’s a slight wrinkle next to your eyes when you smile.

It’s something that he’s like to see a lot more of in his future.

Your eyes are locked on Zayne’s face he fondly stares at your knee, his face unable to hide the care that he holds for you. It always manages to break free whenever he’s around you, his heart pounding on the inside of his ribcage, clattering against the bones. You swear you can heart it, always have just to mess with him. He turns his chin to you and you break your gaze away, sharply inhaling a deep breath, trying to act as if you weren’t memorizing the way he has aged over the last five years. He used to have a baby face, slightly chubby cheeks whenever he chuckled.

“Let’s keep a close eye on it,” Zayne mutters just loud enough for you to hear. You nod, swallowing the lump that forms in your throat. “If it bothers you, even if it feels the slightest bit off, you will tell me, okay?”

His face is as serious as his voice is. You let out a small breath of air, suddenly aware of his eyes on the side of your face. You nod once again, swiping your tongue over your teeth, trying not to react as he gently moves the fabric of your sweatpants back into place. The fabric feels hot as he pulls away. The last touch of his warmth lingers on your skin. It burns for just a moment’s notice, a small reminder of what you once had, bother it withers away, smothered beneath the weight of your conscience.

“You’re cleared. We’ll have weekly check-ins to make for sure your body remains in good shape,” Zayne pulls away.

It’s like you can breathe again. His back remains turned to you. Zayne’s shoulders are wider than they were before. You tilt your head to the side, taking in the muscles that shoe beneath the fabric of his dress shirt. You look away, having to push the blush off of your face before he can notice it. He turns around, passing you the clipboard with a new piece of paper on it.

“Sign here and you’re good to go,” his tone has lost the passion to it, the bittersweet taste being forced out of his mouth. He refuses to focus on it, the way it makes his brain want to think about the days you have shared together. It’s a constant reminder of what he lost. The day he realized that it was too late when he walked through the door of his apartment. You help him out by ignoring it too.

You sign slowly. Your signature comes to life on the page. Even it is different than it once was, just another thing in your life that evolved without him there to witness it. You place the pen on the clipboard and he takes it back, placing it on the table beside him. You step towards the door but it is Zayne’s voice that keeps you from leaving.

“I’m glad to see you again,” Zayne’s words send chills down your spine. The same exact tingle that always happened when he whispered into your ear late into the night. The same one that soothed your aching muscles after a long day.

“Yeah,” you nod, holding back all of the things that you left unsaid, all of the things that made you fall in love with him instead of leaving him, “it’s good to see you too, Zayne. I’m glad you’re going to be the one saving me again.”

You don’t wish to hear his response. You push through the office door and jog to the center of the room where the small group cheers as their final member joins its ranks. Zayne watches you from the doorway, leaning against the wood. He fixes his tie, straightening and tightening it from when it got loose. His hazel eyes stare at you from behind his glasses, tilting his head ever so slightly to look at you from over the metal rims instead, already wondering if you still refused to believe in fate, preferring the comfort of coincidences over what is meant to be.

as always: likes, comments, & reblogs are greatly appreciated! support your favorite writers! <3

#zayne x reader #zayne x non!mc reader #zayne x non mc #zayne x you #zayne x y/n #zayne li #zayne fic #zayne love and deepspace #zayne lads #lnds zayne #lads zayne #zayne fanfic #love and deepspace #lads x reader #love and deepspace fanfic #love and deepspace fic #love and deepspace zayne #rcvcgers writings #city of stars ੈ✩‧₊˚

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mymindisneverhere · 7 months ago

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Part Nine

warnings: 18+, MDNI!, SMUT, explicit language, lots of dialogue, (forgive me if I missed any)

heads up: 10.6k word count

Masterlist

*1 Year Later*

“30 minutes until we open the doors Ms. MacArthur.” The waitress announced, knocking on the door to get Khloé’s attention.

“Thank you Jess!” Khloé nodded and returned her attention back down to her hands.

Khloé stared at the framed document she held in her hands. A small smile on her face as she eyed the certificate that had her name signed in bold font.

St. Claire Culinary Institute

Associate of Arts

“Khloé Rose MacArthur”

She had done it. After all of those long nights spent studying, learning new techniques, preparing all sorts of dishes, she had finally received her Degree in Culinary Arts. A feeling of pride overcame her as she continued staring at her degree.

She hung it up right above her office desk that sat in the very back of the restaurant. With just a few more minutes until her grand opening, she was completely content sighing in satisfaction as she took a seat in the large office chair.

Khloé had dedicated one whole year to getting her life on track to where she wanted it to be. Enrolling into culinary school once again, her credits from the years before rolling over into a new semester helped her to get her degree as soon as she could. She joined her local yoga and pilates classes and spent time with the ones who understood her most, her father and her sister. Dedicating time and energy to the ones who poured into her the most had done her justice. This was just the reset she needed.

The night she cried herself to sleep was an awakening for her. Everything didn’t necessarily fall into place right away but she knew she didn’t want the rest of her life to go the way it had been going. She had been clear on what she wanted from here on out. A life full of no regrets and genuine happiness.

Although she had made it clear to her sister that she was done dating, Kandance still did what she could to convince Khloé to get back into dating again. Kandace respected Khloés commitment to achieving her goals but she knew how badly Khloé desired to be loved by the “perfect” man.

“I’m not interested in dating right now Kandace.”

“I’m focused on myself right now, I don’t have time for men.”

This was her response each time Kandace would bug her about her dating life. No matter how hard Kandace tried, Khloé didn’t budge. She was completely caught up in herself. Everyday she woke up, she made sure to do something that would get her closer to where she wanted to be and after twelve months of hard work and some financial help from her father she was preparing to open up her first place.

Khloé spent everyday searching for the right chefs, the perfect waiters and waitresses and the perfect hostess to help run her restaurant. After months of research she had finally crafted the perfect crew and she was ready to launch the grand opening of her place, “The Velvet Rose”.

“Everything is set and ready to go Ms. MacArthur.” Olivia stated, entering Khloés office.

Olivia had been the last person on her list to receive an apology that was well overdue. She had to admit to her that although she didn’t want to hear any of what Olivia had said to her when she came to her apartment just a year ago, she needed that wake up call. They sat and talked about the last few years they spent with each other and how they wanted the years to come to be.

Olivia listed her demands to Khloé stating that she no longer wanted to be treated as if she was beneath her. Olivia wanted to feel equal to Khloé not because of Khloés status but because of the relationship that they had with each other. She had been there for all of Khloés terrible breakups, bad business moves and constant arguments with her family. Olivia felt she deserved to be treated with respect and Khloé agreed without fuss. After everything was said and done, Khloé asked Olivia to be her restaurant manager and Olivia gladly accepted.

“Liv I told you, you don’t have to keep calling me that.” Khloé said. “You’re the manager, we’re a team.”

“I know, but it bothers you so I’ll keep doing it.” Olivia joked, sticking her tongue out before leaving the office.

Khloé rolled her eyes and stood from her seat. Turning to step in front of the full body mirror she kept against the office door, stared at her reflection in the mirror. The gold dress she wore was specifically picked by her to help go with the theme of her restaurant. Her hair was pressed straight and tucked behind her ears, giving her a simple yet elegant look. The blonde highlights her stylist suggested meshed well with her skin tone and her attire for the night.

She smiled at her reflection and took a deep breath before leaving her office and entered the dining area of the restaurant. The place was decorated with small tables near the entrance for the parties of two, large booths along the center wall for parties of four to six and a large table at the very back for even larger parties. Warm shades of gold and bright white filled the room as she walked through, inspecting each corner of the restaurant. The walls were covered in golden dim lights that gave the space a romantic and cozy feel.

Each table had a small candle in the center along with a few white roses in a vase, to further embrace the romantic ambience Khloé wanted to spread throughout the entire eatery. Large bouquets of white roses sat right at the entrance with a smaller version decorating the hostess podium. The place had Khloés luxurious taste written all over, topping it off with a live jazz band dressed in all white attire.

“Attention everyone!” Khloé announced, causing the crew to stop what they were doing and look her way.

The small group of waiters and waitresses stood in front of her dressed in white dress shirts, black ties and dress pants with small aprons around their waists. Two hostesses dressed in white dresses and pumps to match stood side by side awaiting her announcement.

The kitchen chefs, along with the head chef, made their way from the kitchen and stood together, dressed in their uniforms slightly similarly to the waiters with their names embroidered on their shirts.

Khloé eyed her team proudly as they stood awaiting further instruction. Everyone looked as if they belonged, like they were a team. The uniforms and the color coordinated outfits tied the whole place together and Khloé couldn’t be more excited to let the guests experience the food and the atmosphere.

“There will be a full house tonight so I expect everyone to get all of their nerves out now because once those doors open, it’s showtime.” Khloé spoke, her voice full of authority but laced with just a hint of grace. “I want to thank you guys for being here with me. You could’ve gone anywhere else to share your talents but you chose to be here and for that I am forever grateful.”

The team nodded as they smiled to each other, truly excited for their opening night.

“Now, let’s have a great first night!” With that, everyone dispersed, taking their places and preparing for the crowd.

Khloé walked to the front doors with Olivia and took in her surroundings, feeling a large sense of gratitude as she admired the first thing she could actually call hers.

“They’re lining up outside Ms. MacArthur.” Olivia announced, staring out of the window at the line of people that traveled a mile down the sidewalk.

“Let them in.” Khloé stated proudly.

Olivia pushed the large doors open and within minutes people were filling the seats, looking over the menu for the night and ordering drinks. The room was filled with light conversation, greetings and soft jazz setting the tone for a grown and sexy feel.

The smooth sounds of a saxophone rang out into the room from up front as guests entered. The dress code was elegant and formal. There weren’t necessarily restrictions on what could and could not be worn however the ambience set the perfect tone for the attire.

Khloé had invited the most important people she knew to her big night. Her sister, her father, her aunts and uncles, popular influencers in the city, well known food critics and the most successful business owners in the town.

Getting the word out about her place was her number one goal but sharing her night with the ones she cared for most was right after. She slowly walked around the place, greeting each guest and thanking them for coming. She made her way to one of the tables suited for large parties where her family had taken their seats, laughing and conversing with one another.

“Princess!” Mr. MacArthur stood, placing a soft kiss on Khloé’s cheek and pulling her into a warm hug. “I am beyond proud of you, this place looks great.”

“Thank you daddy.” Khloé responded with a smile.

She spoke to the rest of her family, sharing laughs and small conversation until her eyes landed on an unfamiliar woman. Instantly spotting the resemblance, her breath caught in her throat as she eyed her.

“Khloé, this is my mother Katherine, mom this is my sister Khloé.” Kandace said.

“Oh my God.” Khloé gawked at the sight of the woman, practically sharing the same face as Kandace. Her beautiful bronze skin, her jet black hair and big beautiful smile just like her sister. “It is so nice to meet you.”

Katherine stood and hugged Khloé. “You as well Khloé, Kandace has told me so much about you. Congratulations honey!”

“Thank you.” Khloé said, placing a hand over her heart.

Khloé sat with her family expressing her gratitude and appreciation before getting up and visiting the guests once again, being sure to get their reviews on the food, the drinks and the service.

The night was going so smoothly. The room was filled with laughter, good music and amazing food. Olivia had suggested that Khloé should only serve a limited amount of items on the menu just to be sure that the wait wouldn’t be too long for the guests. Together they picked the special dishes that would give the guests some insight on what to expect from the restaurant's full menu once they had gone completely public.

From the looks of how things were flowing so effortlessly, that was the best idea for the night.

“Excuse me, if I could have everyone’s attention please.” Olivia’s voice echoed throughout the speakers as she held the microphone to her lips. “I’d like to bring the owner, Ms. Khloé MacArthur, up to the stage to say a few words.”

Everyone applauded as Khloé made her way to the front of the restaurant. The gold dress she wore shined under the soft lighting, accompanied by the beautiful honey blonde shade in her hair, she looked as if she was glowing. She carefully made her way up on the stage and grabbed the microphone from Olivia, clearing her throat before speaking.

“Good evening everyone and thank you all for coming to the grand opening of The Velvet Rose.” Applause filled the room as she smiled, slightly blushing from the attention she was getting.

“This has truly been a journey for me. If I'm honest this was probably the scariest thing that I’ve ever done in my life but it is the most gratifying. To see my vision, my dream come true in real time and to be able to share it with the most amazing people that I know is truly an honor for me. I hope you all enjoy the food, enjoy the drinks and the lovely music and again thank you so much for coming.”

With that Khloé returned the microphone to its stand and carefully walked down from the stage as the room erupted in applause once more. Before she could even make it to the floor Olivia had stopped her in her tracks.

“There’s a guest complaining about the valet parking outside, I think you may want to handle this.” Olivia spoke quickly, a bit of worry in her tone.

Khloé nodded and made her way to the front doors, pushing through them. Her head immediately snapped to the right where the parking lot was but the valet sat unbothered, not busy with anyone or any cars.

“I was hoping I could get a tour.“ The sound of his voice caused her heart to skip a beat. “That is if you have room for me on the guest list.”

She didn’t bother to turn around, she couldn’t turn around. Her feet were glued in place as she remembered the comfort that the voice had brought her so long ago. Her breathing began to increase as she mustered up the strength to turn and face him.

Finally swallowing the lump in her throat, she lifted her dress a bit and slowly turned around. They stood just a few feet away from each other but the impact of their presence was heavy for the both of them.

Terry stood there with a large bouquet of white roses in his hand. He was dressed in an all black tuxedo, a small chain hanging from his neck and a watch to match. His hair was freshly cut as was his goatee. He stood eyeing her with his bedroom eyes, noticing the expression in her face soften as she stared at him.

He walked to her, keeping his gaze on hers as he got closer to her. Each step he took, she thought her heart would beat out of her chest. Her eyes trailed down his body to his feet and back up to his face. He was still so damn fine, finer than he was when she left him in Summers' living room just a year prior.

“Hi.” Terry greeted, staring down at her.

“Hi.” Khloé stared up at him, instantly gaining all of the feeling she had neglected in the last year right in between her legs.

They sat in silence for a while before either one of them spoke again. Khloé was feeling too many things at once. She was already on a high from the opening of her restaurant and now standing in front of the only man she truly ever loved had her feeling like she was floating on a cloud.

“These are for you.” Terry smiled, handing her the roses.

“Thank you.” She smiled nervously, grabbing them before staring back up at him. “What are you doing here?” She instantly regretted asking that question, causing her to stumble over her words. She didn’t want him to think she wasn’t happy to see him but she was still very curious as to why he was there.

“I mean not like, in a bad way, like I don’t want you to be here, but-“ She took a deep breath, calming her nerves before finishing.” I just didn’t expect to see you tonight or…”

“Ever?” Terry asked, finishing her sentence for her.

Khloé looked down at her feet contemplating what she would say next. The past twelve months were solely for her, not a man, not a friend, not her family, not even her mother but her. Although she would constantly tell her sister she wasn’t thinking about a man or dating whatsoever, she would secretly pray that one day she would be with him again.

However Khloé refused to force their connection so she avoided going to the warehouse, she never visited that part of town for anything and she decided not to visit Summer again because there was no need to.

Two months turned into four and then four turned into eight and she still had yet to cross paths with him so she accepted that maybe he wasn’t the man for her after all. She wanted to believe in fate similar to fairytale stories she read as a child. Believing that no matter where in the world you went or what conflict had taken place between man and woman, if they were meant to be together fate would magically merge their paths.

Khloé hoped she would run into him at a grocery store or the bank, somewhere they didn’t plan on seeing each other but somehow ended up at the same place, at the same time. When time passed and she had yet to run into her dream guy again, her belief in the fairytale began to fade. So becoming focused on herself became even easier because she had no more energy left to manifest such a cliché interaction.

But here he was standing in front of her on the biggest night of her life. Not because she paid him to be there or because “fate” brought them together but because he simply chose to be there.

“I bumped into your sister as I was leaving the warehouse at the Garland location.” Terry started. “She told me about this grand opening being hosted by you and I immediately thought ‘Wow, she did it.’”

Khloé blushed a bit at that last part.

“So I wanted to come and congratulate you in person.”

“Thank you Terry.” Khloé smiled.

“You’re welcome Ms. MacArthur.”

She blushed once more at the sound of that name on his lips. When Olivia said it, it reminded her of the years she treated Olivia like she was less than. When Terry said it, it reminded her of comfort and certainty, something she didn’t realize she had missed until now.

The two sat in an awkward silence both unsure of what to say next. Khloé felt a bit silly for being so nervous in front of a man that had seen her in every way imaginable. The longer she sat the more she wondered what life had been like for him in the last year. She could clearly see a difference in him. His look was different, his normal stern expression had slightly faded and he was dressed in a tuxedo. It was clear to her that he had gone through some sort of transformation as well.

“Wait, why were you at the Garland location? What happened to Greenville?” She asked, tilting her head to the side.

“I just accepted a new role there.” Terry began. “I started about three months ago.”

Khloé’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really? What position?”

“Senior Operations Manager.”

“Oh my God, that’s so good! I’m so happy for you!” She exclaimed, smiling from ear to ear. Her excitement caused him to chuckle a bit. “But that's a far drive from where you live, you commute an hour and a half everyday?”

“I moved about fifteen minutes away from the job not too long after I took the role.”

“Oh wow.” Khloé said. She stared up at him in astonishment. Here she was getting her life together, evolving in every way she could and so was he. “So much has happened since we last saw each other.”

“I don’t know if it’s too late for me to say this but-“ Terry started, placing a hand to the back of his head to calm his nerves. “I really missed you Khloé.”

Khloé’s breath caught in her throat at the admission. “I missed you too.”

“The day you left Summers place, it was hard for me to keep busy. I wanted to talk to you everyday but I didn’t want to interrupt your process or interfere with the time you needed so I decided to be patient.” He said, placing his hands in his pockets. “To be honest I was scared someone else had come into your life and it was too late for us to try again.”

“I was just trying to become the woman that I needed to be for myself. I thought that if we were supposed to be together, that somehow fate would bring us together and we would.” Khloé spoke softly. “I wanted to see you too but I didn’t know if I would be forcing it or not so I just decided against it.”

Terry nodded, a small moment of silence falling between the two of them again. He looked over to stare at the bright sign above Khloé’s restaurant, a way to avoid the awkwardness that fell between them. Khloé stared down at the ground wondering if she had said the wrong thing. It wasn’t like she had given up on them but at the same time she kind of did.

“Goodnight Khloé, the food was bomb girl! I’m gonna tag you on Instagram!” A woman announced as she exited the restaurant, a to-go container in hand.

Guests were beginning to leave one by one, complementing Khloé and congratulating her as they made their way to the valet.

“Thank you guys so much, come back and see us!” She said, waving as the last few guests left, leaving only her family in the restaurant.

She turned her attention back to Terry and saw the discomfort in his face. The man who was once so damn good at hiding his feelings was doing a terrible job at this moment.

“If you have some time, I’d love to show you the place.” Khloé suggested. “I can have my chef cook something for you, I wanna know what you think of the food.”

Terry looked down at her and smiled before walking over to the large doors and pulling it open for Khloé to enter. “After you.”

They made their way into the restaurant and she led him to the back of the seating area, a small booth sat clean and empty and they took a seat on each side. Khloé looked up at Terry as he maneuvered into the booth. She watched him as he took in his surroundings.

“This is really nice Khloé.” Terry looked around the place, admiring the interior. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you, it took a while but we’re here.” Khloé said, placing the large bouquet of roses in the seat right next to her.

“I’m really proud of you Khloé.” He said, his eyes finally landing on hers.

“Thank you.”

“Terrance.” Mr. MacArthur called out, walking over to the booth they occupied. “It’s good to see you again son.”

“Mr. MacArthur, good to see you as well sir.” Terry stood, shaking the older man’s hand.

Khloé looked on in confusion as Terry and her father fell into casual conversation, catching up for lost time. The moment it was brought to her fathers attention that Terry was a worker, her dad called her later that evening to give her some words about the entire ordeal. Ones that weren’t that nice. So to see him conversing with Terry as if he was no longer bothered by it threw her for a loop.

“Congratulations on the senior position.” Mr. MacArthur said.

“Thank you sir, I appreciate it.” Terry grinned humbly.

“Keep it up and you’ll be coming for my spot next.” The two men laughed as Khloé continued to watch in confusion.

“We’re gonna head out princess, you enjoy your first night in your place.” Her father said bending down to kiss her forehead. “I’m proud of you. Call me when you make it home.”

The rest of her family stopped by the booth to greet Terry and say their goodbyes before exiting, leaving Terry and Khloé alone.

“Here you are sir, The Rosewood Rack comes with a rosemary crusted rack of lamb, a side of truffle mashed potatoes and garlic sautéed broccolini.” The waitress by the name of Jessica announced, placing the warm plates in front of Terry as she read off the chef's special. “And a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon for you as well sir, enjoy.”

“Thank you.” Terry looked on with a slightly shocked expression on his face. “This entree describes you to a T.”

Khloé laughed as he dug into his food, taking small bites of each dish before giving her a review.

“This is delicious, honestly.” He said, not letting up from any of the food that sat in front of him. “I’m not even a lamb type of guy but this is good.”

“I’m so glad you like it.” She started, “I know how much you love a hearty meal so I wanted to make sure they prepared something that would satisfy you just right.”

Terry looked up at her as she said those last few words. The dim lighting, the candles, and the soft music that continued to play set the perfect mood for this moment after not seeing each other for a year. They jumped into long conversation, both informing the other about how life had been for the last twelve months.

Khloé began telling him about the aftermath that followed the dinner where the family secret was revealed. She went on to tell him about how her mother refused to take any accountability for what she had done to Katherine and that eventually she moved out of the family house.

Angela was convinced that everything she did was supposed to be done and there was no wrong in how she went about it. She was waiting for Khloé and John to come around begging for her forgiveness. However John was no longer interested in keeping up a facade for the sake of reputation. He had earned his living rightfully and there was nothing that would take away the love he had for his daughters or his business.

Khloé told Terry all about the time she spent in therapy, the long hours she spent studying and how much time went into securing her restaurant. She admitted to him that even during the times she was focusing on herself, her mind would always wander off to thoughts and memories of the two of them together. She wanted him to know that although she was truly working on herself, she still craved him in every way imaginable.

“Why not just come by the job?” Terry asked, genuine confusion written in his expression.

“I just kept feeling like I was forcing you to be with me and I didn’t want to do that. So I wanted to avoid you at all costs.” She admitted. “I had this weird belief that if we were meant to be then we’d cross each other's paths in a more authentic way.”

Terry nodded slowly, somewhat understanding her but not totally. While Khloé still believed in her fairytales, Terry was very much grounded in reality. Sometimes too grounded in reality, not allowing himself enough space to dream or remain optimistic about the possible relationship he could have with Khloé. He didn’t believe in living life on what ifs, he needed total security and if he didn’t have it then he would have to move on. But no matter how hard he tried, his mind always found its way back on Khloé.

Terry went on to tell her how moving up in the company was the best thing that had happened to him. The pay raise, the benefits and the business trips that came with the position, had him overwhelmed with gratitude. He let her know that at times he would become too busy, trying yet again to get rid of any memory he had of her. A simple attempt to protect himself from suffering a loss and not wanting to accept that she had completely moved on.

“But I’m not with anyone Terry, I did this for myself.” Khloé spoke honestly.

“I know but I guess I just thought that you’d either meet someone or you’d never want to be with anyone else ever again.” Terry said.

“Why did you think I wouldn’t want to be with anyone ever again?”

“Because the look on your face when you walked out on me, you didn’t look at me the same way you did before.” He stated. “It was like I could see a wall being built right at that moment. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to get past it.”

Khloé stared at him and he stared back at her.

“You’ll always get past it.” She stated bluntly. “I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but everyone’s got a soft spot for someone. You happen to be my someone, just like I am for you.”

Terry’s eyebrows bent at the statement. He was determined to deny what she was saying because he didn’t think it was true whatsoever. Did he care for her deeply? Absolutely. But Terry could never allow himself to be soft for anyone.

“The way you tore into me back at my condo, the way you looked at me when I tried to touch you to prevent you from leaving, if you weren't soft for me you wouldn’t be here right now. You’d be done with me.” Khloé started, “But you’re not because you can’t be.”

Terry stared at her as she continued talking.

“For a while I thought Summer was your soft spot but I realized she’s not. She is a safe space for you but she’s not the person who gets to push your buttons and still be loved by you.” She watched as his expression softened a bit. “I’m not the only one who tries to play tough Mr. Richmond.”

It had been a minute since he had heard her say his name like that. The sound of his name leaving her lips made him feel some things he hadn’t felt in a while. Noticing the slight change in his breathing, Khloé smirked as she grabbed his wine glass and took a sip. She had done the work to heal but the seductress in her could never leave, she just did a better job at taming it. Truth is, she would always enjoy seeing the effect she had on men in real time.

“You don’t drink anyway, you don’t need this.” Khloé said, a bit of her bossy attitude showcasing itself in a quick moment.

He felt his dick jump as he continued staring at her, watching the glass leave her lips as she tilted her head slightly. The instant memories of those same lips damn near bringing him to his knees had his eyes stuck on them. He didn’t want to be the guy who just popped back into her life hoping to get some but he couldn’t deny the way she was making him feel. It felt like meeting her all over again, getting lost in her lips, forgetting they were in the middle of a conversation.

“Cat got your tongue Mr. Richmond?” She asked, smirking at him.

His eyes darted back up to hers before responding. “No ma’am.” He said, watching her shift in her seat. Going from poised to bothered in a split second. She wasn’t the only one picking up on the small cues that were happening beyond their will.

“You missed me that much?” He smirked.

Khloé placed the wine glass on the table and leaned forward, placing her forearms over one another as she locked her eyes onto his.

“You wanna stay here all night or do you wanna find out just how much?” Khloé asked, her gaze shifting between his eyes and his lips.

The sounds of heavy breathing and light moans filled the room as they kissed each other, tripping over their feet, making up for all the time they lost. They had raced to Terry’s apartment and wasted no time falling into their usual rhythm once they shut the door. Terry swiftly pulled off his suit jacket and returned back to Khloé’s lips, backing her further into the apartment.

Khloé wrapped her arms around his neck, tilting her head to get a better feel of his tongue on hers. Moaning into his mouth she stepped back as they continued tussling with each other's lips.

“Take this off.” Terry murmured in between kisses, yanking at Khloé’s dress.

“Unzip it.” She said, finally breaking their kiss and turning her back to him.

He quickly pulled the zipper down the back of her dress and watched it fall to the ground. Stepping out of it, she turned to him, dressed in only her underwear. Khloé wasn’t a shy woman but she was feeling herself shrink under his gaze once her body was exposed. However Terry’s usual stoic stare had shifted into desire as he studied her body, the one he hadn’t touched in so long.

She had gained a little weight but for Terry it had been in all the right places. Her hips were a bit wider and her thighs were thicker, the way her panties sat right at the base of her hips brought out every curve in her body. He was feening for her in the worst way and she didn’t even know how bad.

“Fuck I missed you.” He spat, crossing the room quickly. In one swift motion, he picked her up and wrapped her legs around his waist.

She pressed her lips against his, kissing and sucking on his tongue as he walked her into his bedroom. The view of the busy freeway provided a hint of light in the room as he laid her on the bed.

Reaching down to lift the long sleeve turtle neck he wore above his head, Khloé sat up and watched him as he came out of the sweater. Her eyes roamed over his torso, the sight of him alone had her growing wetter by the second.

‘Did he get bigger?’ She thought to herself, noticing the increase of muscle in his arms and strong definition in his chest.

He leaned down to kiss her once more, lightly pushing her onto her back. He placed kisses along her neck, the sounds of her moaning in his ear causing him to moan as well. Terry was moving fast, his hunger for her taking over as he roughly sucked on her neck.

“Terry wait.” She said as she let out a breath, placing her hands on his chest signaling for him to sit up.

“What’s wrong?” He looked down at her frowning, trying hard to read her expression.

“Nothing, it’s just,” She started, eyes darting around the room before landing on his. “I’m a bit nervous.”

Terry chuckled lightly, finding it hard to believe that the woman who enjoyed tying him up and draining him dry had become so nervous all of sudden. “I’ve already seen every part of you, what’s making you so nervous now?”

She took a deep breath and paused for a bit before finally saying the words, “I love you.”

The admission caught Terry off guard. He could sense her anxiousness as she stared up at him. The Khloé he was used to was fearless, there wasn’t anything that came out of her mouth with hesitation. The Khloe he knew didn’t stumble over her words or have a hard time finding them either. But this new Khloé was very different. Still her usual bossy self but a bit more cautious with her words and her tone of voice.

He could tell she was desperately waiting for his response as her eyes pieced into his. Her eyebrows bent slightly as she began to grow impatient.

“I love you too.” He finally responded, a heavy weight lifting off of his shoulders after holding onto that truth for so long.

Khloé’s eyes softened, her features relaxing and returning back to normal as she let out the breath she had been holding. She continued staring up at him without saying a word. There was a genuineness behind the words that left his lips. It didn’t feel like he was saying it just to lessen her worry or try to continue on with having sex with her. She could sense his relief as he spoke those same words back to her.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked softly.

“No!” She answered a bit too quickly. “I don’t want you to just fuck me though. I guess I want…” She trailed off.

“Me to make love to you.” He finished.

She nodded her head. Placing a soft kiss on her lips, he slowly lifted off of the bed and held his hand out for her to take. She grabbed it and stood in front him. Turning her around, she faced the large window and closed her eyes, preparing to actually be handled with care for the first time.

Terry moved her hair to the side away from her neck and placed soft kisses along her shoulder. Each kiss was placed with purpose and intention. Her breath hitched as she felt his lips on her, the slow movement making her grow anxious with every touch. He made his way up to her neck and noticed her breathing stop. He knew she was nervous but he wanted to reassure her that there was no reason to be.

“Relax.” He suggested, his voice deep yet soft in her ear. “I got you.”

Letting out the breath she had been holding in, she slowly dropped her shoulders. She unclenched her jaw and closed her eyes, letting her head fall slowly against his chest. The feeling of his lips were slowly chipping at her nerves, eventually clearing them altogether.

He ran his hands across her stomach, pulling her deeper into him. The warmth of her body against his chest, the way she ran her fingers against his arms, felt serene for him. Still placing kisses against her shoulder, he dropped his hand into the crotch of her panties and dipped his finger in between her folds. She was so wet for him, she had been since they agreed to leave the restaurant and head to his place.

He ran his free hand up her torso and played with her nipple, rolling it in between his thumb and index finger. Khloés body pressed against his even more as she squirmed in his arms. He moaned in her ear, feeling her hips rub against his bulge.

“Terry…” She moaned above a whisper, feeling him play with her sensitive clit and nipples caused her to close her eyes.

“You want me to stop?” He asked, the question was obviously rhetorical but he loved to hear the eagerness in her voice.

“No.” She breathed out.

Terry continued kissing along his shoulders up her neck and stopped at her jaw. Her head moved effortlessly as he trailed up her neck, so caught up in the pleasure, she was almost melting into his arms.

He didn’t want her to cum just yet but he made sure to build her up just enough so that when he finally entered her, she’d be dripping like a faucet.

“Tell me how you want it.” He remembered how much she loved to be in charge, one of the many things he adored most about her. Increasing his speed purposely so she’d struggle as she answered the question.

“Ummm.” She moaned, eyes still rolling into her head as he pinched her nipples tightly, still working her clit over.

“Tell me baby.”

“S-stomach.”

He chuckled lightly at her stutter, feeling himself while he had her somewhat at his mercy. Finally pulling his fingers from her lower set, he pushed them into her mouth and watched as she sucked them, moaning from the taste of herself.

“You ready?”

Khloé nodded her head, still resting her weight against him. Turning them both so that they were facing the bed, he pushed her panties down to her ankles.

“Lay down.” He instructed.

She licked her lips and crawled onto the bed, laying flat on her stomach and resting on her elbows. He removed the thin fabric from around her ankles and tossed them before undoing his pants. Getting completely undressed, he crawled onto the bed, stopping to place kisses on the back of her thighs, up her ass and continued up her back. She bit her lip as she felt him against her skin, each kiss causing a soft moan to escape her lips.

Finally reaching the side of her face, he placed kisses along her jaw as he ran his dick against her wet entrance.

“Can you go slow please?” She asked softly, “It’s been a while for me.” She turned her head to meet his eyes, their faces just a few inches from each other.

“Yes ma’am.” He responded.

He ran his dick through her folds once more before pausing at her entrance. His eyes were glued to hers, not wanting to miss any of the expressions on her face no matter how big or small. Carefully pushing himself just a few inches into her, he watched as her jaw dropped, the sounds or her gasping loudly made him clench his jaw. He loved the faces she made whenever they had sex, they were so damn beautiful.

“Can I move?” He asked.

“Yes!” She moaned, a bit more aggressive than she intended.

Terry pushed himself all the way into her, pressing his hips flat against her ass. Both of his hands rested next to her elbows as he held himself up. He dropped his head onto hers taking in how tight she was, afraid he wouldn’t last as long as he planned to. She cooed as she felt all of him at once, inhaling deeply as he held himself in place.

Lowering himself onto his elbows, he wrapped his arms around hers and intertwined their fingers. He rolled his hips slowly, giving her long strokes, as he dropped his chin into the crook of her neck.

Khloé’s eyes rolled as her brows lifted, the side of her face was pressed against his, feeling his lips brush against her jaw. She was in total bliss feeling him for the first time in a long time. The way he thrusted in and out of her sent small shocks throughout her body every time he rubbed up against her spot. She moaned loudly, tightening the grip she had on his hands. He maintained his slow and steady strokes, kissing her cheek as he tried to keep himself from cumming too soon.

“I missed you so much.” She cried, dragging her words as her jaw continued to fall open.

“I missed you too baby.” He replied.

She continued to repeat herself over again, unable to mutter any new words due to the feeling of ecstasy invading her body. Her voice was doing a number on him, causing him to thrust into her even harder, increasing the pressure with each stroke. The harder he dug into her, the more vocal she became and this wasn’t helping him one bit. Cursing to himself, he pulled out of her, quickly stopping himself before he came too early.

“Fuck.” He spat.

Grabbing her hips, he flipped her on her back and smashed his lips into hers. She ran her hands down his face as they fell back into their usual rhythm with their tongues. Without warning, Terry pushed into her, every inch filling her suddenly until he couldn’t push any further. She could feel the pressure deep within the pit of her stomach, he was so big.

Khloé moaned into his mouth, eventually giving up on the kiss because multitasking wouldn’t be easy for her to do at the moment. Pulling out of her with only his tip inside, he returned to giving her long strokes, this time a bit faster than before.

He lifted one of her legs onto his shoulders and left the other on the bed. His eyes were locked onto hers as he dug into her, watching as they began to roll into her head. He took her bottom lip into his mouth, sucking it gently before he pulled back.

“Look at me.”

She opened her eyes and focused them back on his. He stared down at her intently, studying her eyes with every stroke he gave her. Her eyebrows curled inward from the feeling brewing in the lower part of her stomach. The look in his eyes translated the emotion she had been dying to see in them since she first met him. His usual stoic expression had completely vanished.

Terry looked at her with pure adoration and genuine love expressed in his hazel eyes. Every bit of his movement had intention, he wanted to be sure that she could feel his love for her as he pleased her for the first time in over a year.

The way he rocked his hips into hers caused her to push up the bed slightly. He grabbed onto her hips and held her in place, still digging deep into her. She gasped, letting her eyelids fall low, desperately waiting for the orgasm to take over her body.

“Don’t close ‘em, look at me.” He demanded softly, his voice just above a whisper.

“I-“ Khloé started, opening her eyes once again. Her eyebrows lifted a bit as they stared at each other.

“Talk to me, what’s wrong?” He asked, still thrusting into her. He was aware of the effect his dick was having on her, he just wanted to hear her say it.

“It feels so good.” She whined.

Khloé had always enjoyed sex, particularly being fucked but she had yet to experience sex that included passion and intimacy. She was feeling so many things at once. Not only the feeling in between her legs that traveled to the pit of her belly but also the affection behind it. There was no competition to see who would make who fold first. The only goal was to translate the feelings he had for her through this moment they had both been secretly waiting for.

“You love me?” Terry asked, placing a soft kiss at the corner of her lips.

“Yes!”

“I can’t handle you leaving me again.” He said honestly.

“I won’t leave!” She cried.

“Tell me you’re stayin’!” He could feel her getting wetter the more he spoke to her. It was only a matter of time before she would be cumming all over him and that was exactly what he wanted.

“I’ll stay!” She moaned loudly.

He kept placing kisses against her cheeks before dropping his head to the side of her face, pressing his lips against her ear. “You promise?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” She yelled, digging her manicured fingernails into his back. She clawed at him, attempting to pull him in closer as she came, her nails leaving small marks against his skin. “I’m cummin’!”

She held onto each him tightly, moaning and cursing loudly. Khloé’s legs shook around his waist while he continued stroking, making sure to get all of her. The sloshy sounds of her cumming on his dick had him pressing even harder into her.

“Fuck, yessss!” She cried, marking his back up while she came.

“I love you.” He said into her ear, finally pausing his movements to allow her body to carry out the rest of her climax.

Her breath hitched as she embraced every emotion all at once. Still keeping her nails in his back she stared up at the ceiling as her breathing slowly returned to normal. Terry sat up and placed kisses against her cheek, noticing the tear that fell from the corner of her eye.

“Say it.” Terry commanded.

“I-I love you t-too.” She spoke in between breaths, body still feeling the effects of her orgasm.

Terry kissed her softly along her jaw and neck until her body had completely returned to its relaxed state. Khloé finally looked up at him with heavy eyes. Usually she’d be the one causing a K.O. with her partners but it was her turn to receive all of that pleasure and more… and she did just that.

Khloé’s head rested against Terry’s chest as the two of them laid together. He held onto her, arms wrapped firmly around her waist as she ran her thumb against the thin hairs on his chest. They laid like this in silence, soaking up the presence of one another, not wanting to let go of the other anytime soon.

“Can I ask you something?” Khloé said, breaking the silence.

“Of course.”

“Does this mean we’re officially together or was this just a spur of the moment? You know, because we hadn’t seen each other in a while?” She was somewhat nervous about the answer.

Although Terry didn’t seem like the type to just hit it and go on like nothing happened, she still needed to know where they stood with each other.

“I meant what I said.” Terry started. “I can’t handle not being with you. Your presence alone fills me up. I want to know what’s going on with you at all times. I want to know when you’re upset, when you’re happy, when you’re scared, when you’re confused. I don’t wanna be without you again.”

Khloé sat listening to him go on about how much she meant to him, every word securing her in the role she played in his life. She felt herself smiling against his chest, happy to hear that she was as important to him as he was to her.

“Well you can’t get angry with me and shut me out for weeks at a time, I wanna know what you’re thinking too.” She spoke honestly. “Even if you’re not in the mood to talk, at least telling me that will make me feel better. I don’t wanna feel shut out by you again.”

“I got you. However, you also have to talk to me Khloé. You can’t just make assumptions about how I’m feeling and let your emotions make decisions for you.” He said, rubbing his hand against her hips.

“It won’t happen again.” She said in a soft voice.

“But above all, you’re mine and I’m yours, anything you want me to do, I’ll do it.”

She sat up and rested on her chin as she looked at him “You promise?”

“I promise.” He responded with a kiss on her forehead.

“Good, I’m ready for round two. It’s my turn.” She said, cutting straight to the chase. She lifted up from his hold and straddled his waist, preparing to ride him until the sun came up.

Terry chuckled to himself appreciating the fact that after all this time, her sex drive never wavered.

“Yes ma’am.”

Terry sat in his office, wrapping up his last zoom meeting before heading home for the day. The end of the months were always the busiest for him. Business calls, payroll, month end stats and having to prepare for the beginning of a new month. The only thing on his mind was having a nice meal after handling so much within eight hours of his work day.

*Knock Knock*

“Come in.” He announced without looking up.

“Are you busy Mr. Richmond?” The familiar voice spoke, causing him to let out a quiet sigh of annoyance before responding. His name on her tongue just didn’t hit the same as it would when Khloé said it.

“Yes I am, do you need something Nia?” He asked dryly, raising his brows as he looked up at her.

“I was just wondering if you wanted to grab some dinner tonight?” She asked, walking further into his office. “My treat.”

Nia had completely taken over Khloés job at the warehouse but not because she genuinely loved the family business. She wanted the man that came with it of course. There was never a day that went by that Nia wouldn’t find a reason to speak with Terry, even if it was something as small as the weather for the day.

“The answer is still no Nia, but thank you.” He said, turning his attention to his computer.

“Why do you play so damn hard to get?” Nia spat. She walked closer to his desk, leaning over the folders that laid across the top of it. “I know you like ‘em feisty, I know you like ‘em pushy and I know you like ‘em to be dominant. That's why you were with Khloé except she’s a fraud and I’m not. So what is it? You afraid of a real woman, Mr. Richmond?”

Terry kept his eyes on his computer not bothering to further entertain Nia and her constant attempts at getting with him.

“You tired ass bitch!” The voice shot through the room, causing Nia to spin around and Terry to snap his head in the direction it came from.

Terry looked down at his watch, panicking once he realized he was supposed to meet Khloé outside so they could head to dinner together. He stood from his desk and quickly walked over to her.

“I’m sorry baby, I had all of those meetings and I lost track of time.” He said, placing a kiss on her cheek.

Khloé’s eyes never left Nia as Terry tried to pull her in for another kiss.

“Give us a minute.” She spoke dryly, ignoring Terry’s attempt.

“But this is my office.” He said, jerking his head back a bit in confusion.

Khloé looked up at him, the expression alone sending him the message loud and clear. Terry threw his hands up in defeat as he walked over to grab his cell phone and keys from the top drawer in his desk.

“I’ll be outside.”

Khloé stood there, LV hanging from her fingertips as she stared at Nia, disdain written on both of their faces. This was a standoff that had been well overdue. Between Nia's backhanded attempts to ruin her relationship with her mother and her relation with Terry, Khloé had waited for the right moment to deal with Nia face to face.

As pathetic as Nia was, she remained persistent. Ruining Khloé’s relationship and spilling her business at the dinner table wasn’t enough for her. She wanted to put the nail in the coffin and Terry was her way to do it. The only problem was, he never paid her any attention unless it was strictly work related. After all of those failed attempts here she stood face to face with her competition who wasn’t even aware that they were competing with one another.

“I could’ve sworn you were done faking your relationship with him, you’re still that desperate Khlo?” Nia smirked, fiddling with the papers on Terry’s desk.

“Not as desperate as you. How many times have you asked him to dinner just to be rejected every time?” Khloé asked, tilting her head to the side.

Nia scoffed, rolling her eyes as she looked to the side.

“Look Nia, I’m not about to waste too much time on you cause you’re not worth it, even your own parents didn’t bother to waste a moment with you that’s why you’re so busy trying to steal mine.” Khloé shot, watching Nias nostrils flare from the comment.

“Bitch you’ve got your nerve, did you forget I witnessed the fallout between you and your mother?” Nia shot back.

“Yes I am aware, but at least she cared enough about me to at least be in my life. Where is yours?” Khloé asked, smiling slightly knowing she had hit a nerve.

Nia stood silently, clenching her jaw as she tried to think of a rebuttal.

“Exactly.” Khloé chuckled. “Now let me make something very clear to you, Terry and I are together, in real life. Not because I’m paying him but because he actually wants to be with me, but I’m sure you’re not familiar with that feeling. You know, actually being wanted.”

Khloé went on. “But even if we weren’t together, you still couldn’t have him or any other man because you’re just not that girl. Hence why you’re begging to pay for his food everyday. So whatever you thought you were about to come in here and do, give it up.”

Nia's blood was boiling as she stared Khloé down. The way Khloé stood there so carelessly, so unbothered by her presence had pissed Nia off to the point of no return. But there was nothing she could do about it because none of what Khloé said was false.

Completely aware of Nia's anger, Khloé dug into her purse and grabbed her MAC Ruby Woo lipstick and her compact mirror. She applied the color effortlessly, seeing as though this had been her signature look for years.

“Now, what I advise you to do is continue doing my old job and focus on figuring out why no one wants you.” Khloé said, popping her lips as she applied the final layer of the lipstick. “Try therapy or Jesus.”

Nias' lip twitched as she sat mugging Khloé, watching as she turned to leave Terry’s office.

“Oh and do me a favor Imani?” Khloé began, turning to face Nia one last time. “Stop trying to be me so bad, because you can’t bitch.”

With that Khloé walked out of the office, heading to her car where Terry stood waiting for her. Spotting her just a few feet away, he lifted his weight off of the car and opened the passenger door for Khloé to get in.

“Everything good?” He asked, staring down at her as she strutted to the car.

“Of course.” She placed a kiss on his lips and stepped into the passenger seat. “Let’s go.”

The two of them made their way around the city, finally stopping at The Velvet Rose. Khloé suggested that they try some new restaurants downtown but Terry insisted on eating at her place. He honestly enjoyed the scenery, the ambience and the food. It was the perfect place for him to end a stressful workday with the woman he loved.

“Pablo, do you mind if I step in here and prepare a meal for Terry and I? You can call it a night if you want, I’ll close the kitchen for you.” Khloé asked her head chef.

“No ma’am, I don’t mind at all. ” He responded, moving around the kitchen to remove his apron and chef hat to grant her privacy as she prepared dinner.

“Thank you Chef!”

Terry sat back with his back pressed against the booth, tapping his leg to the rhythm of the music. Jazz was one of his favorite genres, the soft melodies, the smooth sounds of the instruments blended together always did the perfect job at helping him decompress after a stressful situation.

After about thirty minutes in the kitchen, Khloé walked over to him with two plates in her hands. Finally reaching him, she placed the food down carefully before taking a seat in the booth beside him.

“Why didn’t you have one of your waitresses bring the food out?” Terry asked, sitting up straight as he grabbed the silverware from the table.

“I wanted to bring it.” She said, “Plus I cooked it so it’s only right that I bring it to you.”

Khloé and Terry dug into their food as they engaged in deep conversation. Conversing about their future together, their individual goals and how they planned to spend the rest of their days. They spoke about their living situations and how neither of them were ready to completely move in together but loved the thought of being able to visit one another whenever they chose.

Khloé had made it clear that she didn’t want to move in until she had a ring on her finger and Terry noted that for the future. She placed her fork down on her plate and looked over at as he devoured his food.

“This may sound childish but the anniversary of the first date we went on is coming up soon.” Khloé smiled as she looked down at the food on her plate.

“Why would that sound childish?” Terry asked.

“I don’t know, I just assume only women should care about things like that.”

“We should celebrate.” Terry said, taking a bite of steak. “Maybe go on our first vacation together.”

Khloé looked up at him and a light bulb instantly went off in her head. “I wanna go to Japan. I’ve always wanted to go since Kandace went but I was afraid to go alone. What do you think?”

“I think that’s the perfect place to go.”

The two immediately started planning for their trip out of the country. They discussed dates, flights, resort options and everything in between. Khloé was mostly excited about the trip, eagerly naming all of the cities she’d love to visit, Tokyo being at the top of her list. Terry pressed his back against the booth and looked at her, smolin to himself as she ranted about all of the things they could do together once they landed.

Her excitement warmed his heart, seeing that she still lit up when she spoke to him about her dreams and plans for the future. Terry was so caught in his trance he hadn’t noticed that she stopped talking and was now staring back at him.

“Why are you just staring at me?” Khloé asked shyly.

Terry shook his head and placed the napkin from his lap onto the table. “I just missed this, that's all. I guess I’m just soaking up the moment as much as I can.”

“I told you I’m not leaving again, we have plenty of more moments to come.” Khloé said. “Besides I’m just rambling like usual.”

Terry wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him, placing his lips against her temple. “I know but every moment is special to me, no matter how small it is. I like hearing you ramble.”

Khloé stared up at him and smiled, feeling herself slowly melt into the seat beside him. They sat in each other's embrace

The band began playing an instrumental version of For You by Kenny Latimore, the soft sounds of the saxophone and piano filled the space as they continued to stare at each other.

“Dance with me, handsome.” Khloé suggested.

“Yes ma’am.”

Terry grabbed her hand and walked her to the stage where the band sat. Lifting her arms above his shoulders, he rested his hands at her waist and they began to sway to the music. Khloé leaned her head forward and placed it against his shoulder, pressing her forehead into the crook of his neck.

Khloé let herself sink into his arms placing most of her weight against him as they held onto one another. The band continued to play their own renditions of popular love songs, each musician playing their instrument with precision. Khloé closed her eyes as Terry rocked them softly side to side. She focused on the vibration of Terry’s voice rumbling against her temple, humming the melodies of the songs the band played.

After years of chasing external love and validation, she had finally come to realize that the love she searched for was already within her. Centering herself for the first time in her life had brought her the ability to actually feel the love she had for herself in totality. Now that she was able to identify and operate in her own essence, she was able to manifest that same love into the man that held onto her as she stood in her very own restaurant.

Lifting her head from his shoulder, she stared into his eyes.

“What’s on your mind, beautiful?” He asked, slightly smiling down at her.

“Do me a favor?”

“Anything.” He responded, eyebrows slightly lifted, prepared for her command.

“Love me until we meet in the next lifetime.” She stated, eyes darting back and forth between his.

He chuckled and placed a kiss on her lips before responding. “Yes ma’am.”

That concludes FAVORS

Thank you guys so much for reading, I hope y’all enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I just started writing for the first time back in August and this was my very first series so I was a little rusty but we pushed through 🤞🏾 I love y’all down! 🩵😭

Now let me finish this one-shot I got for my baby Kelvin…

HAPPY NEW YEAR SISTERWIVES!! 🥳

#aaron pierre #terry richmond fic #terry richmond #aaron pierre fanfiction #aaron pierre x black fem reader #rebel ridge #aaron pierre x black reader #aaron pierre fic #terry richmond x black female reader #terry richmond x black!oc

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thewritetofreespeech · 10 months ago

Note

Could I request the Obey Me brothers reacting to their s/o sending them selfies of them in skimpy outfits or completely nude?

Obey me Brothers + spicy pics from MC

Lucifer

Another tedious meeting that should have been an email. But Lucifer remained professional and stalwart as ever, so as to not embarrass Lord Diavolo.

The only exception he made was for his cellphone. Keeping it on silent, but on the table, as Lucifer had learned in the past if he didn’t check it at least regularly during these meetings it might be too late from when his brothers’ hijinks might ensure. Vering into calamity past hijinks.

He noticed he had a text from [Y/N] and was surprised as they usually never texted him when he was in these meetings. Respecting his work. If they were texting him, Lucifer assumed it was important and opened the text in a reserved manner so as not to draw attention.

When he saw what the text was, however, he had to grip his phone tight to the point of cracking to maintain that composure.

“I’m sorry, but you’ll have to excuse me. It seems there is an important matter I must deal with at home. I’ll be back once the matter is taken care of. Thoroughly.”

Mammon

“Mammon-san! Over here!”

“Yes! That’s perfect! Hold that pose!”

“You look amazing Mammon-san!”

The Avatar of Greed grinned roguishly as he was showered with praise. He had to admit, he really was killing this photoshoot.

The photographer took a few more shots before they called for a break and the team moved in to touch him up. Offering him compliments still, along with water. Both of which Mammon drank up. One of the attendants handed him his phone from his dressing room. Giving him a few moments to check it before it was back to work.

He looked at a missed text from [Y/N] and nearly did a spit take of his water. Able to thankfully keep it down, but still coughed in a very un-model like manner at seeing their nearly naked form.

“I uh…I gotta go. We have enough for the magazine right?? Good. Great! Thanks for the opportunity and be sure to call me again!”

Mammon was then out the door fast than anyone could catch him. Including to get his wardrobe outfit off.

“Models….” The photographer muttered as he reset his camera to take shots of the background models in the meantime.

Levi

“On your right! On your right! NO! Your other right!!” Levi shouted into his headset as he tried to lead his team through the maze of undead swarm.

Zombie Zion XX9 had just come out this week and Levi had been grinding non-stop. He barely made time to sleep, much less do anything else, in pursuit of this final battle with the Mother Swarm of zombies (there by defeating the plague and saving the world from the undead at last).

“Guys, we have to get through the door together, otherwise we don’t get the ‘In This Together’ buff! You need to catch up to me! It’s…It’s…ugh! Hold on!” His phone had been buzzing beside him non-stop for the past minute with various texts.

Usually, he would ignore it. But something this persistent typically meant it was important, and what if it was his brothers telling him the house was on fire? He’d have to save his Ruri-chan figures if that was the case.

When he opened the text, Levi’s eyes bugged out and he felt his nose begin to well up with blood as he looked at the picture of [Y/N] in their cosplay panties.

“Levi! Where are you?! We’re getting hammered out here! Levi-!” The connection on his game went dead as the last of his team members died. The screen fading into a black screen of ‘game over’.

“Oh, come on!”

Satan

This anthology that Simeon had recommended to him was thrilling. Truly a masterpiece.

Satan had been absorbed into the new series almost since the first page. Devouring each of the nine books with vigor, much like his little brother did with food. He had forsaken all else, honestly, except reading the past few days. Anxious to find out who the final killer & mastermind behind the protagonist’s plight was, and finally get some answers.

He was nearly at the climax, the big reveal, when his phone started to buzz.

Grumbling that his concentration was broken, Satan picked it up to see who it was. His irksomeness quickly dissolving as he saw [Y/N]’s nearly naked chest in front of him.

He had a choice to make.

Continue reading and get the answers he needed, or put the book down and go to the person clearly in need of him. How was he to choose?

In the end, he put the book down and sprinted off to where [Y/N] was. If the main character could wait 10 years to find out who the killer was, surely Satan could wait a little longer to find out as well.

Asmo

Shopping was one of Asmo’s favorite past times. Going to stores and looking for the perfect item or accessory was like a little treasure hunt to him. Or just perusing the aisles and new merch like one would an art gallery, with the same enthusiasm for beauty. It was a wonderful afternoon. Especially if [Y/N] was with him.

[Y/N] had gone to try on some items that they found while Asmo continued to scan over the racks. His cellphone eventually buzzed, and he fumbled with his iced coffee to get it out of his bag. Seeing a picture of [Y/N] in the dressing room in a super cute bra and panty set with the question :should I get it?:

:OMG yes! 💓🥵🔥🔥: Asmo texted back immediately.

:It looks so good on you! Which dressing room are you in?? I want to see it in person! Should we get matching ones??:

He eventually found [Y/N] and showered them with praise. Insisting that he would buy it for them if they didn’t get it themselves, and offered to buy it in every color as well.

Beel

“98…99…100.”

Beel lifted the weights one final time and put the bar back on the rack. The weights clanking down with a heavy thud with the sheer mass of them. He loved getting a good workout in before he went home.

Heading over to his locker space to get some water and check his phone, Beel saw he had a text from [Y/N]. He opened it and saw the spicy picture they had just sent him. Usually only the 5x Hellfire Spicy noodles were the only spice that could make him drool this much. Clearly he was wrong.

Beel decided to, for once, cut his work out short. He quickly packed his bag and ran home to do some cardio on the way home. Planning to do some more ‘cardio’ when he got there.

He could make up for the missed sets in the morning before school. Since he’d be busy the rest of the night.

Belphie

Belphie yawned and rolled over as he woke up from his nap. His fifth of the day, so it was a pretty short one. Only about an hour this time.

He stretched and rubbed his eyes before reaching for his phone to see what time it was. He was immediately greeted with a text from [Y/N] on the screen. He felt a little bad for missing it while he was a sleep, but by now they had to know that he would get back to them eventually. Belphie opened it and was immediately greeted with something from his dreams.

:Are you still wearing that?: He texted them back.

:Come to my room: He then added. :In the attic. I’m still in bed. So half the work is done😉.:

He waited to hear back from [Y/N] and grinned when he saw them respond with they were on their way.

And his brothers made fun of him for being in bed all the time. With his soft mattress and [Y/N], why would he ever want to leave?

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sturniololuvz · 1 month ago

Note

Can you do one of like Kacey and Daisy bonding? Like maybe after a while Daisy’s throwing a fit because wants her instead of Chris and Chris realizes Kacey is in it for the long haul or something??

🍼teendad!chris

Chris had always been the go-to. The one who rocked her through teething nights, who did the voices during bedtime stories, who knew her favorite snack rotation down to the second Goldfish. Daisy was his girl. His baby. His shadow.

So when she screamed for someone else — he didn’t quite know what to do with that.

It had been a long day already. Daisy was overtired, cranky, and in full two-year-old chaos mode. Chris had tried everything: snacks, cartoons, cuddles, even her favorite pink cup with the bendy straw. But nothing worked. She kept pushing his hands away and thrashing in his arms, big tears slipping down her flushed cheeks.

“Kacey!” Daisy suddenly sobbed, reaching out toward the hallway. “Kacey! I want her! Not you!”

Chris froze. Heart dropping a little.

Kacey had been around more lately — movie nights, quiet dinners, helping him wash bottles and fold laundry. She’d never tried to take over. She never pushed. She was gentle with Daisy, patient in the way only someone with a really good heart could be. And Daisy had grown to love her — clearly.

Kacey poked her head around the corner, a little confused. “What’s going on—”

“KACEYYYY!” Daisy screamed again, arms outstretched, her face scrunched like it was the end of the world.

Chris blinked fast, stepping back. “She, uh—she wants you,” he said, voice quieter than usual.

Kacey crossed the room without hesitation, kneeling beside Daisy and scooping her up into her arms. Instantly, the little girl buried her face in Kacey’s neck, still hiccupping with cries, but clinging to her like she’d been gone for weeks instead of ten minutes.

Chris watched from a few feet away. There was a weird tightness in his chest — not jealousy, not hurt exactly. Just… something big. Something that felt like letting go of a piece of himself and watching someone else hold it safely.

Kacey whispered something soft to Daisy, smoothing her hair and rubbing her back in slow, even circles. It was only a minute later that Daisy quieted, thumb in her mouth, her body heavy and warm against Kacey’s chest.

“She just needed a reset,” Kacey murmured, still rocking. “She’s okay now.”

Chris nodded, swallowing hard. “I think she loves you more than me.”

Kacey glanced up at him, startled. “Hey, no—Chris, no, she’s obsessed with you. This was just a meltdown.”

He gave a half-laugh, sitting down slowly on the arm of the couch. “Nah. I mean, it’s not bad. I just—she picked you. Even when she was screaming. She wanted you. Not a bottle. Not TV. You.”

Kacey’s face softened, eyes flicking between him and Daisy. “I’m here, you know. For real. I’m not going anywhere.”

Chris looked at her for a long moment. Daisy’s tiny hand was curled into the collar of her hoodie like she never wanted to let go. And somehow, that moment — this little messy, chaotic, emotional moment — felt more real than anything else had in months.

“Yeah,” Chris said quietly. “I think you are.”

⸻

taglist: taglist : @sturniolo-szn2 @fadedstvrn @tezzzzzzzz @stayingstromboli @ivysturnss @sturniolofreakk @ihateemetoo @sturniolo-tease @sturniololuv3r @sturnsclam @nxvasturns @csturniolo43 @mattspillowprincess @sturniolo-fann @izzylovesmatt @sturniolosymphony @bernardmatthews @bugs-tags @emely9274 @arianna1342 @stevielovesmatt @riggysworld @ph3ebssturniolo @whore4chris @amelia4chris @pizzapocketpocketpizza @strxn-2 @xxxxxxlovesstuff @whump-loverz @sarahsturnn @urloveanaa @k-pevensie28 @chrissturniolobendmeovernow @chriss-slutt @lenus1aa @kitty-meow-meow44 @sturnslux3 @blahbel668

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #matt stuniolo fanfic #🍼 teendad!chris sturniolo a

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amjustagirl · 11 months ago

Text

Chapter 2

pairing: hoshina soshiro x f!reader

genre: romance, angst

wc: 2.7k

summary: you've loved soshiro since you were seven. he will always place his duty above you.

chapt 1 / chapt 2 / chapt 3 / chapt 4 / chapt 5

The first step in your mission to reclaim your heart back from Hoshina Soshiro is to ignore his texts.

// omg my blade got chipped in a fight // // daikaiju with a ridiculously hard shell // // so annoying!! // // hmph!!! // // fix it for meeeeee //

// !?!?!??!?!// // u still have indigestion???//

You really should’ve foreseen his sheer stubbornness though, considering the mountain of rejection he had to claw through to get to where he is. He springs a surprise visit on you, breaking into your lab without warning.

“Did you seriously ask me to fill in an official form for upgrades?” he demands, miffed.

“Record keeping purposes”, you lie through your teeth. “My boss is on my back.”

“Your boss?!” he repeats incredulously. “Aren’t you the head of your department?”

A department consisting only of three overworked blade specialists servicing the entirety of Japan’s Defense Force and private security forces, but he has a point. “Well, the auditors might run their checks, and how am I supposed to justify spending budget on reckless improvements that a certain vice captain demands -”

He slings an arm over your shoulder and a crackle of electricity zips up your spine. “C’mon, don’t be silly -”

You shrug him off, waiting nothing better than to run for the toilets to fan away the heat spreading up the column of your neck to the apples of your cheek. “Fine”, you acquiesce. “I’ll get to it - just, stop bugging me -”

He smirks, content at getting his way. “Great, now we can grab lunch. Food here’s so much better than on base -”

That, you can fend off. “Can’t”, you say. “Lunch with colleagues. And no, you can’t join, Hana-chan wants to cry about her ex, and you’ll make her uncomfortable if you’re there.”

He goggles at you. “Since when do you have friends besides me?”

“Always, you rude shit”, you say, though really, you’ve just been putting in more effort in being more social at work. “Now, get out.”

At last, he leaves, so you can reset your heart to its factory settings. You fix his katanas and send it back via courier, when previously you might have delivered it to the base yourself as an excuse to see him again.

The next step is to find something else to preoccupy you.

You sign up for pottery lessons on Sunday afternoons, which clashes directly with when Soshiro gets the majority of his time off. You aim to slaughter two birds with a single stroke, an excuse to avoid him coupled with a hobby for you that has nothing to do with him.

It comes naturally to you, since you’re accustomed to using your hands and handling heat to create things, even if it’s usually steel, not soft clay. But it’s different when you do it for fun, for yourself. Blades can be beautiful, but your focus when hammering at them has always been its function, not form, so it’s a welcome change to just create things for its beauty.

You make cups and bowls for your colleagues (now friends), a set of sake cups for your parents in a rust-red glaze. Your proudest creation is a tea set that you keep for yourself, displayed on the windowsill to remind you of a summer sky when it’s grey.

Even Yamamoto-san gets a little gift since you now consider him a friend, a stone pot for a plant he complained of having outgrown its home. He reciprocates next month with a plant for you, who he says needs a home. This you struggle with, not being born with a green thumb. You studiously research plant-rearing tips and plunk the monstera you are gifted with by your prized tea set, but it truly thrives when you bring another potted plant home. Pothos, at first, because they’re too-determined to live. Bird’s fern, for it’s graceful leaves. When you’re more confident, you top it off with azaleas, for colour, hydrangeas to match your tea set.

(not violets, never violets)

“Huh”, you stare at the jungle on your balcony “Even plants need friends, I guess.”

It’s still little too soon to put yourself out there on the dating apps and start searching in the radioactive waste pool of the Tokyo dating scene when your heart is still tethered to Hoshina Soshiro. Any willpower you have to stay away is shaken when you hear that Soshiro’s been assigned a numbers weapon, especially after hearing whispers in the lab that testing has been going terribly. You ask permission to be on base to watch one testing session yourself as a weapons technician. The Numbers Weapon 10 has a mind of its own, and it keeps clashing with Soshiro, causing their test results to be abysmally low.

“Will he be safe?” you question Okonogi-san, the overworked third base operations leader.

“If he doesn’t get his numbers up with the weapon, I doubt he’ll be allowed to wear it out on the field”, she shrugs.

You slip away before he’s released from testing grounds.

// did u srsly come to base // // and not say hi!?!??! // // i haven’t seen ur face in forever //

It’s the truth. Despite your pledge to carve out more space to live a life that yours, you make an exception, burning hours on a new weapon to match the volatile Numbers weapon that by all reports, only wants to be worn by Soshiro. Anyone who knows anything about Soshiro knows of his preference for twin blades, ‘cos it makes me look cool’, he jokes, so no one will anticipate a single katana as a backup weapon.

// ty for the katana // // it’s q cool // // ok, v v cool // // wld be cooler if you dropped by to say hi // // free this weekend? //

You take a train all the way back to Osaka to visit your parents instead, lest he take it upon himself to commit larceny by breaking into your apartment. You don’t put it past him, since he has the combination to your front lock - his birthday, that’s another thing you need to change.

“How’s Yamamoto-san?” your mother asks, none too subtly.

You know your parents are proud of both you and your older brother for following the family’s traditions, and you’re lucky they’re progressive enough to encourage it even in you, but they’re of the age where they’re starting to long for grandchildren. Your older brother’s wedding scheduled for next year should distract them for now, but they’ll soon look to replicate their success with you.

“He’s pretty nice, but I don’t think he’s the one”, you reply.

Your mother’s lips purse. “Are you still hung up on that Hoshino boy?”

You’re stung into silence, your mother’s directness catching you off-guard. She tsks at you, pouring you tea that’s bitter from being steeped too long.

“I’m not - that’s not -”

Her gaze is sharper than any blade you’ve ever made. “Don’t insult me by lying.”

“Ka-san. It’s hard but I’m trying to get over it- gods, it’s so embarrassing to say this aloud in front of my own mother -”

She sniffs imperiously. “Try harder.”

“Will do”, you reply dryly. “I’ll just walk into the nearest combini and pick up the first guy they have sitting on the shelf, shall I?”

She raps your knuckles with her chopsticks. “Don’t be insolent”, she clucks. “Hoshina Soshiro -”

“I know, ‘ka-san”, you interrupt, the wound still raw under its scabbing. “You don’t have to say it.”

“Hm.”

It’s too difficult to meet your mother’s eyes, so you’re glad when she bustles off to the kitchen. A plate is shoved under your nose, oranges, painstakingly peeled, apples, perfectly sliced.

“There’ll be mangoes if you come back next week”, your mother says.

“That’ll be nice”, you smile.

The next step is the hardest, the part you fear the most.

Soshiro insists on seeing you. There’s no excuse he accepts, not after forty two calls and unread messages. Initially you toyed with changing the combination on your front door to keep him out, but you’re certain he’ll stand outside and cause a ruckus until you let him in.

He’s waiting in your apartment when you return from class. “Okairie”, he grounds out, jaw set. “It’s nice to see you again.”

There’s no point running. He’ll catch up with you within seconds anyway.

You drop your bag of groceries on the kitchen counter. “It’s nice to see you too”, you reply, skirting around his palpable annoyance. “Are you staying for dinner? I can make curry rice - ”

“I wanna know why you’ve been ignoring me.”

You plaster on a smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about”, you hedge. “I mean, I’ve been busy at work, you’ve been busy at work - I’ve been picking up new hobbies -”

“Which I’d know, if you talked to me in the past three months -”

“I’ve really been too busy, haven’t had the chance -”

“Nonsense”, he scoffs. “Don’t think I don’t know that you dropped by base without saying hi -”

“Pretty sure you were too busy tussling with that new combat suit -”

“You didn’t even bother to lunch with me the last time I came to your office -”

“I was busy working on your weapon, which I don’t hear you complaining about -”

You stop short when he takes you by your shoulders. You smell coffee and steel, a scent that just so Soshiro, that it makes your heart forget to beat. He’s close, far too close that you can see the dying sun-gold illuminating the violet iris of his eyes. You squeak as he tips your chin up, calloused fingers so painfully gentle as he meets your gaze. “Are you sure we’re okay?”, he asks softly. “Did I do something wrong?”

Other than torturing your heart by being within your vicinity?

Shaking your head, you take a large step back. “All good”, you splutter, ears on fire.

He doesn’t give you a chance to hide, shouldering into your space. “Somehow I don’t believe you”, he pinches your cheek. “Spill it. Stop lyin’.”

The pieces of your heart are stitched together with fragile threads, but his presence makes your heart slam itself against your ribcage over and over again. You are powerless from stopping it from falling apart again.

“You can eat my entire tub of chestnut ice cream -”

“Stop tryin’ to distract me.” He leans in, almost nose to nose with you, the curve of his mouth so dangerously close to your lips that your heart chooses this precise moment to combust. “Tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it.”

Courage has never been your strong suit, but you owe it to Soshrio to be brave enough to be honest that it’s not him, never him that made you run and hide. It’s your traitorous heart at blame. Plus, you figure, when he turns you down, perhaps it’ll finally deprive your heart of any lingering hopes it harbours, so you can finally, finally reclaim ownership of your heart.

Your lungs claw for air.

“It’s not anything you did”, you whisper. “I just wanted more than what you probably ever thought to give.”

His brows pinch together in confusion.

“It’s just - I know you’re busy doing big things in the Defense Force and you probably never have time in between killing a million kaijus to consider anything outside of work, and I know that you’ve never given any indication that you see me more than just a friend, cos really, I know where I stand -”

“You’re rambling.” He shakes you. “You’re not making any sense.”

You close your eyes.

(plunge a knife into your chest, carve it out whilst it's still beating, still bleeding)

“I like you, Soshiro-kun”, you say. “Not just as a friend, in case that wasn’t clear enough.”

“Oh.”

It’s a simple word with exactly one syllable, but it does the job. He stares at you, slack jawed. His reaction twists the knife deeper into your belly. You clutch the counter for balance, prevent yourself from doubling over, spilling your guts on your kitchen floor. “I didn’t wanna ruin our friendship so I’ve just been kinda distant. I needed - I needed space. Just to get over it. I’m sorry if I worried you.”

He still doesn’t respond.

“Soshiro -”

He looks up and you read only pity in his gaze. “I’m sorry -”

Your hurt pride will not allow you to let him see you fall apart. “Can we attack that tub of ice cream now”, you interrupt. “We don’t have to talk about it anymore.”

“Right”, he says after a long pause, face carefully blank. “Ice cream.”

You spend the rest of the evening eating ice cream and decidedly avoiding his gaze while chattering away about everything and nothing at all, papering over any awkwardness in a desperate attempt to pretend you don’t care that you’ve just killed any chance you’ve had at keeping your friendship intact. He’s almost silent save for some mmhms and grunts to indicate he’s still listening, so unlike his usual talkative replate with a joke in hand. You too, cannot put up with this charade anymore, so you feign tiredness, just to cut this ordeal short.

“Stay safe”, you remind him. “Don’t get eaten by a kaiju.”

“Yeah”, he replies.

He doesn’t say seeya later, as he usually does. You’re unsurprised by that.

Your phone remains empty of any new messages from him.

In the initial aftermath, you drown yourself in work to overcompensate for your wandering mind and wishful heart. All tweaks to his weaponry are done purely through official channels, as you previously requested. He doesn’t even text you a thanks when you stay up working on changes to his blades. Not that you’ve ever felt entitled to his gratitude. It’s just your job - one that you’ve decided to take up because your seven year old self lost her heart to him, but really, that’s on you, not him.

There are no spontaneous lunchtime visits, not even when you make updates to his brother’s tech. He doesn’t drop by your apartment the next time he’s off-duty, nor he does ask you to accompany him to another overpriced dessert cafe, not even when the gingko trees in Tokyo turn yellow, marking the season for every store to have a mont blanc special which you know he’d be weak for.

This is good, you tell yourself.

It hurts less than you expected. Of course it splits open your stitched-closed wounds to hear him say in your face what you already knew, that Hoshina Soshiro will never love you, not in this lifetime or the next. You allow yourself a few lonely nights to wallow in self-pity, spend a weekend facedown on your bed, stifling your screams into your pillow. You might have lost your footing momentarily, slipped down a ravine of despair, but with a few weeks’ grace, you start to claw your way out of the ravine of despair.

You will find your footing, find a way to get over him, live a life without Hoshina Soshiro by your side.

You will. You will.

It will become easier. You find contentment sitting on your balcony by yourself as the evenings grow cooler, leaves catching in the breeze, a meal you cooked for yourself on your lap. You throw yourself headfirst into pottery classes, where all you focus on is the feel of soft clay melting into your hands. Between work, your hobbies and weekend visits home, you don’t give yourself time to think about anything or anyone else anymore.

Weeks pass.

You catch a glimpse of him on the office TV as you clock in for work. Though you almost always turn it off right away, lest your heart believe it can find its way back to him, you make an exception today when the TV starts to blare about some daikaiju appearing, one after another across Japan, the third division deploying to a location not too far away from you.

<don’t be eaten by a kaiju>

The building starts to shake.

You put your phone away. Your co-workers surround the screen, yelling about evacuations and contingencies. You start to head down towards the forge, determined to save as much of your handiwork as you can. Soshiro and the rest of the swordsmen in the Defense Force will need whatever you can save.

a/n: manga spoilers from the next chapt onwards, read at your own risk! also, am off riding in mongolia til the 20th - next chapter out after - pls lmk what you guys think in the meantime ;)

#hoshina soushirou #hoshina soshiro x reader #hoshina soshiro #hoshina x reader #kaiju 8

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hermitcraftheadcanons · 10 months ago

Note

So, you know when you have to hold down the power button of a malfunctioning piece of technology?

That, but with any robot/cyborg etc. hermits.

Depending on how linked they are to the technology, it could be that a limb has to be shut down temporarily, or that their entire system (i.e. their brain functions) have to be rebooted.

This can be done as fluff or angst!

Tango is up too late working on his redstone contraptions? Well his good buddy Skizz is there to sneak behind him and hold down his power button to force him to take a nap already, jeez!

Iskall's eye has been bugging him, shorting out and all. He needs some help resetting it, so he gets a friend to hold it down and catch him when his brain reboots as well.

Etho has a panic attack during a repair session with Doc. He's gonna fry his systems if he can't calm down... Doc has no choice but to hold down his power button and reset him so he doesn't hurt himself further...

So many possibilities!

The first rule of computer troubleshooting, turning it off and back on again, applies to Hermits too. Having vision problems? Stuck in a spiral of bad thoughts? Just reboot!

-Mod Mleem

#hermitcraft #tangotek #iskall85 #ethoslab #mod mleem

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winchestersisterimaginessss · 8 months ago

Text

Request: If you want can you write one about shapeshifters confusing the sister? She doesn't know who is real and breaks down not knowing who she should trust and who to kill?

Sam and Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader

A/N: I just kept writing and writing about this one lol oops. I also didn’t proofread so my bad. Requests are open and I’m working hard on getting to everyone’s! Hope you like this:))

Lately, you were on edge and completely weighed down by the constant pressure of trying to save the world. It felt like the world was resting on your shoulders, and in many ways, it was. It left you anxious and overwhelmed, constantly worrying, no matter what you were doing. Your brothers could see how much it was affecting you, especially since you were only 16, and they wanted to do everything they could to protect you from the mental toll it was taking on you. You had just woken up when you heard a gentle knock on your door.

“Yeah?” You asked groggily, rubbing your eyes.

Sam pushed the door open and sent you a soft smile before walking to sit on the edge of your bed. You immediatly pushed yourself up in a sitting position and looked at him with worry.

“What?” You asked slightly panicking, hoping nothing bad happened. You knew he was about to get touchy feely and you were anxious to know why. Did something happen? Is someone hurt? Did someone die? Where’s Dean? Your thoughts were cut off by Sam placing a hand on your knee.

“Hey, it’s alright, everything’s okay.” He reassured, examining your worried face. He knew how anxious you’ve been lately so he sent you a pained smile before he continued, “Dean and I were talking and we thought it would be best if you stayed back instead of going on the hunt today.” He said, already knowing this conversation could go one of two ways.

“But-“ You started before he cut you off.

“Take a rest day bug, it’s okay. We can see the toll this has been taking on you and you need a mental reset.” He said softly.

“But, I-I’m okay.” You smiled, but your voice cracked and betrayed you.

“No, you’re not bug and that’s alright. I know it feels heavy right now and it’s okay to not be okay. Me and Dean have been through it, but you’re so young and no one should have to carry the weight of what you've been through. It’s important to take a day off to take care of yourself alright?” Sam said with his eyes looking deep into yours.

“Okay, yeah.” You said softly, nodding. Sam got up and pulled you into a hug.

“Love you bud.” He said before he kissed you on the side of the head.

“Love you too, be safe please.” You said, already feeling stressed out at the fact that your brothers are throwing themselves at danger once again and you won’t be there to immediately know the outcome of it.

“Always.” Sam reassured, sending out a wink and walking out of your room. You had five minutes of peace before you heard another knock on the door.

“Yeah?” You asked.

Dean stuck his head into the room and sent you a smile.

“Hey kid, I got you a bagel and a chocolate chip muffin and I already have Legally Blonde up on the tv for you.” He said already knowing how to start your self care day off right.

“Thank you!” You smiled and started to get out of bed to start your day.

“Call me if you need anything. We’re heading out now, okay?” He asked.

“Yes, please be careful.” You said shooting him a concerned look.

“Uh I am always careful.” He said matter of factly.

“Mhm.” You chuckled, going in to hug him.

“Love you kid, we should be back by tonight.” He said and ruffled your hair.

“Okay, love you.” You said, pulling away and watching him walk out.

It was around 7pm when you heard some noise outside of your room. You quietly opened the door and saw Dean in the hallway. He didn’t notice you as he walked into his own room. You decided to go to the kitchen to grab one of the cookies you baked earlier to give him one to try. As you walked towards the kitchen the front door opened and in walked Dean.

“Hey Y/N/N!” He said when he saw you. He was making his way down the steps as you froze.

“I-I-I-“ You were confused for about 15 seconds before your heart dropped. This wasn’t Dean. Dean was just down the hall. But what if that wasn’t Dean and this is actually the real Dean. Your thoughts were wild and your heart was pounding.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, seeming concerned.

“No.” You whispered and began to back up away from him.

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s the matter?” He asked, now on high alert.

“Get away from me!” You shouted in fear.

“What the fuck?” He said to himself as he put his hands up in defense.

“Where’s Sam?” You asked forcibly, still back away from Dean.

“He’s picking up some food. What’s going on kid?” He asked.

“You were just in your room.” You stated aggressively.

“No I wasn’t.” He responded, confused.

“Exactly.” You sucked in a breath of terror before you bolted out of the room, ready to fight for your life.

“What the hell?” You heard him say as you sprinted into your room. You grabbed your gun and bolted back out towards Dean’s room where you saw him enter just moments before the other Dean walked through the front door. Just as you were about to reach his room, he walked out. You jumped in fear and put the gun behind your back.

“Oh hey kiddo I was just about to come check on you. Sammy ran out to grab us some food.” He finished just as the other Dean rounded the corner to the hallway to find out what was going on with you.

“What the fuck?” They both said at the same time. You brought your gun out from behind your back and shakily held it in front of you, frantically switching between the two Dean’s unsure of who was who.

“Hey Y/N, I need you to trust me and walk towards me right now.” Dean 2, the one that just walked up, said calmly, but urgently. You immediately turned the gun to Dean 1.

“Alright, hey, take it easy, okay?” Dean 1 said with his hands out in front of him, his eyes not leaving yours. “I need you to be smart about this kid. You know me. Shoot him!” He shouted.

You let out a frustrated cry and turned the gun onto Dean 2. You didn’t know who was who and you were freaking out.

“I’m Dean alright?! I’m Dean. You’ve gotta help me out here kid and walk towards me because that’s the shapeshifter, not me.” He said urgently. You were so overwhelmed and tears started to pour down your cheeks as you flipped the gun back onto Dean 1.

“SHOOT HIM Y/N!” Dean 1 yelled at you, but you didn’t falter your gun. “SHOOT HIM!” He screamed at you again. You jumped in freight, but continued to point the gun at him. Dean 1 was so persistent on you killing Dean 2 while Dean 2 seemed like his only goal was to protect you. Your thoughts were interrupted by Dean 1 shouting once more.

“SHOOT HIM, SHOOT HIM, SHOOT HIM, SHOOT HIM!” His demand boomed through the halls making you panic and freeze. He started charging towards you and thats all it took to for you to snap out of it and shoot him twice. He fell to the floor dead.

“Oh thank God.” You heard the real Dean sigh in relief from behind you, but you felt anything but relief. You were left in a trance staring at dead fake Dean, but he looked so real to you. All of your emotions were threatening to spill over. You were so worked up over saving the world while also worrying about your brothers safety. You were scared that you could lose one of them in an instant and now seeing dead fake Dean was too much for you to handle. He was identical to your brother and though he wasn’t really your brother it didn’t leave much up to the imagination if you ever really did lose him. You sunk to the floor staring at the shapeshifter with tears now trailing down your cheeks.

“Dean?” You whispered weakly staring at your brother’s lifeless body knowing that it wasn’t actually him, but not able to shake the emotions you felt. Suddenly your vision was cut off by someone standing in front of you.

“Hey, it’s me, it Dean. It’s okay.” Dean said kneeling down in front of you, but you couldn’t focus on anything as you stared blankly ahead stuck in your own mind. It felt as though nothing around you was real and you were unable to move or speak.

“Hey kiddo you with me?” He asked getting increasingly more worried as he lightly tapped your face with no reaction from you.

“Alright you’re in shock, that’s alright, that’s okay, just know I’m here sweetheart, alright? You’re safe, I’m okay. Everything’s okay, I promise.” He soothed trying to get you to a safe mental space. He started rubbing his hands up and down your arms to try and ground you which worked. You blinked hard before opening your eyes again. Your eyes met Dean’s who were already boring into yours and your flood gates opened. You started sobbing and felt Dean take you into his arms. You gripped onto his shirt tight and clung to him.

“De.” You whimpered into his chest.

“Hey, yeah, I got you. It’s me, I’m alright, I’m here.” He said softly understanding that with your recent emotions seeing him lifeless was too much for you to handle. He gripped you tighter as sobs wracked through your body.

“Shhhh, shh, shh, everything’s alright kid.” He said.

“I’m just so scared to lose you.” You whimpered, feeling your body start to shake.

“You’re not ever going to lose me.” He reassured you and rubbed your back to calm your trembles.

“I- just- the body looks identical to you.” You stuttered trying to find the words to get it out. You felt Dean nod.

“I know kid, I know. It’s alright.” He said softly, understanding exactly where your mental breakdown came from. You pulled away and wiped your tears.

“Okay we should um we should probably do something about this body then.” You mumbled glancing at the shapeshifter, still feeling uneasy.

“Don’t worry about it, I got it. Sam should be here any minute with dinner so go wait for him in the other room alright?” Dean asked, staring down at you.

“Um yeah alright.” You said and walked towards the kitchen. Just as you sat down, Sam walked through the door with bags in hand.

“Hey bug!” He smiled. “How was your day?” He asked before setting the food on the table and getting a good look at you. As soon as he did his face fell.

“What’s wrong?” He asked worriedly seeing your tear stained face. You immediately got up and hugged him, still slightly shaking from earlier.

“Hey, what’s going on?” You felt his chest rumble as he asked you.

“There was a shapeshifter.” You mumbled, gripping onto his shirt tighter.

“What?” Sam asked in confusion pulling you away from him to look you in the eyes.

“There was a shapeshifter who looked like Dean and I couldn’t tell who was who, but I killed the shapeshifter and it just scared me.” You spoke slowly.

“Okay.” Sam shook his head, but still was in absolute confusion on what happened and how it had happened.

“Where’s Dean now?” He asked, trying to understand more.

“Dealing with the body.” You said and went back into his arms, needing comfort once more.

“Okay, alright.” He said and held you close to him.

“Just freaked me out a little bit.” You whispered.

“l understand bug, it’s alright.” He reassured you, rubbing your back. After a couple minutes you pulled away from him and sent him a soft smile.

“You okay?” He asked, still concerned with your mental state.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright.” You responded and sent him one of your cheesy thumbs up. He chuckled and shook his head.

“Alright do you wanna get our dinner out of the bag and put it on the table while I go talk to Dean?” He asked, motioning to the diner bags he had placed on the table.

“Yeah sure.” You responded as he sent you a quick nod and left the room.

You got the table ready and put the food out on the table. Your eyes caught the cookies you totally forgot you baked and got them ready to put on the table also for your brothers to try. As you were walking towards the table with the plate your brothers both walked in.

“I baked cookies today!” You said enthusiastically.

“Your scrumptious secret recipe cookies?” Dean asked hopefully.

“Duh.” You chuckled and shook your head yes. He immediately snagged one off the plate. You looked back at him after you placed the rest on the table and noticed it was already gone.

“Damn you’re the real Dean all right.” You laughed. He sent you a wink and you all sat down at the table to eat. As you opened up your to go box you couldn’t help, but notice the exchanges your brothers were making.

“What?” You asked.

“How was your day?” Sam asked.

“It was actually pretty good!” You said before looking down at the table. “The shapeshifter stuff just threw me off a little bit, but other than that I had a really good day.” You finished.

“Alright well tomorrow we’re all having an off day together kiddo just me you and Sammy.” Dean grinned, knowing you needed to spend time with them.

“Good thing I have three face masks left still.” You smirked, looking between your brothers.

“Good thing Sammy loves to be pampered.” Dean smirked.

“Dean give me a break, you pamper yourself more than Y/N pampers herself.” Sam scoffed.

“That’s actually true.” You laughed.

“Oh be quiet you two.” Dean said in a high pitched girly voice making you all laugh.

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