#she'd never seen the look I had in my eyes in anyone aside from her own mother

[jesswritesthat]

Atsumu Miya: Second Choice

Fandom: Haikyuu!! — [ Masterlist ]

Summary: ~2.2k, fluff

• You were never first choice, so it comes as a surprise when he notices your presence before anyone else.

Warnings: None

>>>>——————————>

It was always the same, you'd watched as people flocked to beauty, straight past you every time. In reality when you became friends with Sachiko it was because she had a great personality, you couldn't have possibly predicted she'd become the most beautiful and popular girl in school by the time you'd reached Inarizaki High.

Regardless of her sparkling status, she remained your best friend and you'd usually be found together throughout the school premises along with anyone else who joined you at the start of first year.

When the Volleyball team grew more intoxicating, it was Sachiko who'd excitedly dragged you along to one of their home training matches. It's where you first laid eyes upon the famous Miya twins, a vicious team of spiker and setter with a serve worthy of award among them. Already they had personal fans and the cheer squad screaming their praises, you're surprised they didn't get mauled in the hallways.

Now you'd seen them, you recognised them in school and they apparently had space to breathe aside from the odd confession here and there. You'd regularly seen that with Sachiko though, she'd often be either pulled to the side or you'd bear witness to some lovestruck soul gushing their heart out for her.

It was humbling in a way, you were the one who goes unnoticed but notices everything. Including if feelings were reciprocated, and you're certain you deducted gossip before it even became that, you'd been getting accurate in predicting things lately. However, you never predicted one of them to notice you.

Especially him.

"Hey, ya in one of my classes right?" In honesty you didn't even realise it was you this voice was addressing since Sachiko lingered by your side, not until a careful tap drew your attention to the blonde twin rather than your locker.

"Huh? Oh I think so, it hasn't been long enough to learn everyone's name yet. You're the volleyball player though."

"Ah, have ya seen me play? Like it?" His head tilted in curiosity, proud smirk upon his lips.

"You were really good, you have great form when you serve." With that you nodded to him, slipping on your shoes and walking off with your best friend quickly following in tow.

"Woah— wait up!" You didn't even look back in the swarm of leaving students. "I didn't get yer name..."

———

It wasn't until a week or so later did he 'confidently' interact with you again, this time his call far more effective in hailing your attention.

"(L/n) (Y/n)!"

Immediately you spun to the origin, finding none other than Miya Atsumu dodging a group of fangirls rather effortlessly on his way to you.

"You know my name."

"Yeah 'course. You know who I am so it's only fair." It was surefire charisma, one you'd soon extinguish.

"Miya Osamu isn't it?"

"Ye—Hey?! YA GOTTA BE KIDDIN'!"

"'Tsumu shut ya mouth!" The namesake twin glared harshly at his counterpart, quickly flashing a calmer look when you'd addressed him.

"Ah, hey Miya-san. I apologise, that was my fault for winding your brother up."

"Dumbass has control of his own mouth." Osamu politely assured, meanwhile Atsumu reclaimed your peripheral with a childish pout.

"So ya knew ma name all along and decided to be freakin' mean about it? On our second meetin' too."

"I couldn't resist, you're so cute when you're mad."

"I'm— oh ya think I'm cute?" Atsumu stammered slightly, your smirk only widening upon noting the crimson tips of his ears. Honesty leaving your lips soon after.

"I think you're both handsome, as does a majority of the school body. See you Miya-san and Miy—"

"Call me Atsumu!"

"See you in class, Atsumu." You actually looked back this time, an unfamiliar and unexpected feeling flourishing within you.

———

Part of you wandered if it’d be different this time, maybe you’d found someone who was there for you and not Sachiko. Just this once. You’d spoken more in class, studied together, traded snacks, and genuinely became friends over the course of two months.

Ironically it was the same blonde who tugged you from your reverie at the your locker where you’d first spoken.

"Yer friends with Sachiko aren't ya?"

This was it, the moment you realised he was just like all others and for the first time in a long while, you were truly disappointed.

"Yes I am, and she is amazing."

"I'm aware, could ya introduce me?" He’d spoked so casually, completely unawares of the charade you donned.

"What? Too scared to introduce yourself?" Atsumu was taken aback by your mockery, smirk growing as you persisted. "She doesn't bite y'know, that's my job."

This was the second time you'd left him speechless, slamming your locker door and disappearing into the halls with a wave.

From then on you'd see them happily talking to one another, it was hard seeing them together, amusing considering you'd only known the blonde not even half the year, yet you'd liked him more than you considered possible.

The first time you'd walked into the classroom finding the pair conversing at her desk, it was like Atsumu was desperately trying to convince her of something. It was only for a brief moment but when the setter turned to see you with a suddenly concerned look, you realised you hadn't worn a facade. You were meant to smile, instead you must've looked saddened - briskly you offered a weak smirk, and span to leave the room with additional flare as to minimise suspicion.

You’d only made it three steps down the hallway when a grasp on your wrist limited your escape.

"Hey you okay?"

"Yes? Why wouldn't I be?" Came your upbeat response, even if he portrayed a careful worrisome look on his handsome features.

"Ya... ya looked upset."

"Really? Are you sure?"

"I'm observant y'know, gotta be fer volleyball so yeah, I noticed your little slip." He was more forward this time, gesturing to you with a tilt of his head - even if he was head over heels for Sacchan, at least he still genuinely cared about you.

"It's nothing, just realised I've got a test today and that's depressing enough." You thought it was acceptably convincing, though the calculating gaze he'd locked onto yours made you reconsider.

“(Y/n) I know I can be annoyin’ but I’ll do anything I can to help y—“

“I’m fine.” You instantly corrected, reaffirmation following. “I’m fine, Atsumu.”

A gentle pat on his chest told him not to worry, and the nod you gave said you wanted to be alone. So, he let you walk away, your wrist slipping from his grip.

———

Even weirder than the smitten pair hanging out was that your conversations with Sachiko seemed to revolve around him too. Which by your deductions, meant he’d certainly made more of an impression on her than anyone else recently. Maybe Atsumu really had a shot with her…

"Atsumu is so hot isn't he?"

"I guess he keeps in shape, he has to if he wants to improve his skills."

"Uh yes... his hair suits him though, brings out the colour of his eyes~" She gleamed, searching for your reaction and once more her face dramatically dropped at the deadpan reply.

"Makes him easier to differentiate from Osamu."

"True, but I'm asking if you find him attractive?!" Her impatience had gotten the better of her, voice raised slightly out of desperation.

"Isn't that a question you should ask yourself? I haven't heard you go on about a boy this much since middle school." You quipped, raising a quizzical brow at her.

"It's not like th—"

"Oh hey! Sachiko, (Y/n), you wanna come to practice today?" Atsumus’ hollering tone interrupted the conversation, the blonde strolling into your classroom like he belonged there.

"Yes, we'd love to." Sachiko of course was ecstatic to agree, why would she say no since he’s ’so attractive’. Yourself on the other hand had replicated the Thor meme perfectly…

"Would we though?"

"Yeah ya would! C'mon~" You hadn't the chance to protest further when Atsumus' hands clamped your shoulders steering you in the direction of the gymnasium with a giggling Sachiko skipping behind.

———

When Atsumu had asked you to meet him after school before practice started toward the end of the year, you expected something food related or about homework answers, not whatever this was.

Here he stood, flowers in hand and apparently a homemade bento box offered to you with a growing blush painting his handsome features and an aura of flustering about him which was unusual in itself.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm— isn't it obvious?!"

"I have literally no idea what's going through your thick skull, Sachiko will like the flowers though." You answered honestly, crossing your arms.

"They're not for her!"

"Oh... Suna...?"

Atsumus brows furrowed at your wit, shaking his head with a huff.

"Alright ya got me, they're for Sachiko. Yer gonna deliver them since yer her best friend. Thanks and make sure ya eat some of the bento 'cuz there's stuff yer will like in it. Later!" He basically threw the flowers at you and pushed the bento box into your chest prior to storming toward the exit.

You stood dumbfounded, flicking between the two items when he placed his forehead against the door with a defeated sigh and spun on his heel.

“Go! Go on, the team are here and I don’t want ya getting hit with a face full of leather and petals.” He’d stubbornly commented, ushering you out of the gym.

Still, you shouldered your sadness, wearing false confidence like your favourite outfit as you went to find your friend (completely oblivious to the embarrassed mess whining to his teammates inside).

Sachiko squealed when she saw you, leaving her work unattended and rushing to your side admiring your haul.

"It finally happened! Oh my goodness!"

"Yeah yeah, blondie came through congratulations." You boredly spoke, placing the items down whilst she basically vibrated with pure joy.

"Congratulations indeed! Are you happy?"

"Eh. He did say we should share the lunch."

"That's... weird?" Sachikos’ prior energy disappeared as she looked to you in confusion.

"I know, that's what I thought. Apparently there's things I like in it."

"Well obviously. Atsumu made it for you."

"No, he made it for you."

A moment of silence passed, yourself and Sachiko locked in a puzzled stare off.

"Nah, let's be honest, Osamu probably made it~" You dismissively waved your hand once placing the items on her desk, although it was only you who found humour in the situation.

"No (Y/n) I'm serious! Atsumu has been asking me about you and your preferences for months and I've been super excited about it. He even wanted me to find out if you liked him or not —of course IF I found out, I would've kept it to myself— but he really likes you."

"I thought he was into you, I mean everyone is into you." You adamantly justified, as if it explained everything but Sachiko was just as passionate.

"Not him, why do you think he keeps asking you to practices or bugging you every 5 minutes?"

"To get close to you? I don't know."

"No! To get close to you!"

Widened eyes and a look of pure shock told Sachiko her words had finally resonated with you, the truth burned brightly and she could only smile as you ran.

Abandoned were the flowers as you dashed through the halls and came to a skidding halt before the gymnasium - fingertips hesitantly pausing against the door upon hearing Atsumus' cursing whines.

"I didn't even get to say! They just ran off to Sachiko!"

“Ya literally said ‘Go’.” Osamus voice maybe?

“Yeah well, I don’t ever wanna walk away from (Y/n), but it feels like they’re always walking away from me…” Atsumu trailed off, more emotion than you thought lacing his words.

"Maybe ya shouldn't have lied?" That was definitely Arans’ blunt advisory tone.

"I had no choice! They were lookin' at me with their stupid pretty eyes and askin' if it was for Sacchan and I didn't wanna disappoint 'em."

"Yer an idiot." Osamu gladly highlighted, the perfect moment to walk in and make your presence known you decided.

"I know! But—"

"Atsumu?" At the sound of your call, the entity of the team turned in your direction, the setter being the first to respond.

"Huh?! (Y/n) what are you doing here?"

Osamu and the rest of Inarizaki seemed to understand the underlying tension and were quick to evacuate the area.

"I came to tell you that Sachiko liked the flowers." You awkwardly started, Atsumu running fingers through his hair with a quiet voice.

"Oh, right."

"As did I, and I think I'd like to get you something in return."

"Eh?"

"She told me what was going on." You filled in, hands behind your back fiddling with your fingers.

"She's lying! I do not like you at all, let alone find you attractive or anything!"

Much like you predicted, he'd jumped to conclusions and had inadvertently dropped himself in it and exposed the truth Sachiko had enclosed which earned your witty reply.

"Funny, I never mentioned anything about liking me. That’s good to know~"

"Wait— then what?" Atsumu defused, utterly confused and blushing.

"And it's a shame, I was about to confess my feelings for you but I see there's no need since you 'don't like me at all'." You shrugged haphazardly, a hint of sarcasm lacing your tone but it was your statement that revitalised his spark. Enough to abruptly skid in front of you with a commendable justification when you’d started to turn around.

"You still can, nothin' to lose and all that." A half smile was sent to you, hazel eyes meeting yours. “And please, don’t walk away from me this time.”

"I didn’t want— I mean I—“ A wistful sigh escaped you, confession imminent. “I really like you Atsumu, you're both an incredible player and a cool person so I’m glad I got to tell you that.”

“I like ya too (Y/n)! So much, and I feel more confident playing when ya come and watch. Yer smile really hypes me up y’know. If yer up for it, I’d love to spend more time with ya.”

"Yeah, I’d like that."

—

That evening, he’d offered to walk you home and there was still one thing you wanted to say after all that.

“Hey Atsumu?” A hum signified his attention. “Thank you for noticing me."

"Noticing ya?"

"Yeah, I just… I appreciate it."

"No I mean, noticing ya? I haven't noticed anyone else since I met ya."

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

[coff33andb00ks]

Rule Breaker - Pt 3

max Verstappen x single mom!reader

{masterlist}{prev} {next}

warnings: cursing, jos is an even bigger asshole, barely proofread, logan's there, glazed-over mentioning of childhood trauma Summary: Max has it all...right? Besides, he's too busy collecting trophies and completing side quests for anything else. Until... You moved across a whole ass ocean to start over, uprooting you and your son's lives to become social media admin for cars that drive in circles. word count: 7937 (i got so carried away holy shit) auth.note: listen, eagle boy swayed me with his pretty eyes and soft voice... also this was a great excuse for me to rewatch Mulan for the millionth time. spotify: i made a playlist

"Team meeting in ten," GP commented.

Max nodded, eyes following y/n through the window as she paced in the small courtyard, talking on her phone. He hadn't seen or spoken to her since they'd finished the Q and A the day before. Surprisingly, he'd actually enjoyed it. He told himself it was because she'd made sure to gather thought provoking questions, not because some of his answers had made her laugh and her laugh made him feel relaxed. GP turned to look out the window and Max quickly looked down at his plate, even though he'd just taken the last bite of his breakfast. When the engineer turned back, Max could feel his amused expression.

"Looks like it might rain," GP said casually.

Nodding again, Max washed down the last of his food with his coffee. "More chances for fuck ups."

"It's not a crime."

He finally looked up. "What?"

GP nodded towards the window.

"If rain was a crime, would they put god in prison?" Max asked, keeping his face blank when his friend snorted and rolled his eyes.

"You're not a robot, Max."

From the corner of his eye he could see her approaching Christian, who was coming from the garage. "I never said I was."

"Then stop acting like one. You're still young, I guess you're attractive, and you're at the top of your career."

"Thank you for that endorsement," Max said drily. Horner had stepped aside with y/n, whose hands were moving as she spoke to him. "I'll be sure and put it in my Tinder profile."

GP's eyebrows lifted. "You have one?"

"Fuck no." He pushed his chair back. "I don't have time."

"Max," his friend sighed.

"I'll see you at the meeting." He took care of his dishes, making sure to thank the staff working the dining area before leaving the motorhome, telling himself it was so he could get some fresh air and clear his head for the meeting. His legs carried him around the corner to where y/n and Christian were still talking, and he boldly approached.

"…speak to him." Christian shot a look at Max.

"If he was joking I wouldn't think twice about it.," y/n said, frowning. "But I don't see how it could have been. He was extremely rude, implied I wasn't worth hiring based on my looks, and…"

Max kept his mouth shut, knowing she needed to do the speaking. Giving her a faint nod when she looked at him, he felt a glimmer of pride when she straightened her shoulders.

"I didn't spend four years in college – sorry, university – and work three jobs at once to be demeaned. I know I have the skills and drive to do my job, but if this team continues to foster that sort of toxic environment you'll have to look for a new social media admin," she said firmly.

He tried to but couldn't keep the smile from forming.

Christian looked slightly impressed, giving her a reassuring nod. "I understand. He's not employed by us, he's only here by our good graces."

"I know he's the father of the your top driver, and I spoke with him before coming to you," she said, as though Max wasn't standing right there.

Christian pressed his lips together and Max knew he was trying to hide his smile. "Of course. We'll deal with it, I promise."

"Thank you." She relaxed, sighing softly. "I'm not trying to cause trouble, Mr. Horner."

"It's Jos fucking Verstappen, he's the trouble," Christian muttered. "Don't worry, alright? If anyone ever gives you a problem, reach out to me."

She nodded. "Thanks again. Oh!" She turned to Max, smiling hopefully. "I already asked Checo and he said yes to doing it this week. Would you be up to 24 hours with you at Monaco? Not the full 24 hours since I don't want to watch you sleep, but I just stick with you for the rest of the day and show fans a behind the scenes look at what a practice or quali day for you looks like."

"Why?" he asked, still stuck on the thought of her watching him sleep.

"Well! Casual fans don't realize how much work goes into being you. The training and diet and analyzing and teamwork. All the stuff you do even before practice and quali, like walking the track."

"For the whole day."

"Yeah, except for sleeping. I mean, that would probably really ramp up views, but—"

"I'm not that interesting though," he said. Why would anyone want to spend a practice or quali day with him?

"Oh don't start with the modesty. You're an elite athlete. I'm not asking you to invite me into your bedroom and let me show your bed to the world, just a small peek at what you're like. We can highlight your sim racing, explain how it's helped you learn the tracks so well. Talk about your suit, why the fireproof is so important." She tipped her head. "Maybe a shot of your suitcase to prove you do have clothes other than Red Bull gear? If you do, because I'm beginning to think you only have one pair of jeans and a Red Bull shirt."

He laughed at that, shaking his head. "I guess I can do it. We'll see how Checo's goes."

"Perfect. Speaking of, I'm doing that tomorrow so I gotta start posting to hype it up—"

"Meeting in two minutes," Christian told them.

Max looked at him, chagrined to admit he'd forgotten the man was there. "On the way," he promised, rubbing the back of his neck when Christian shot him a knowing look and headed off. Turning back to y/n, he cleared his throat. "I'm not showing my suitcase to the world."

"Is it that embarrassing?" she asked, clicking her tongue in sympathy. "Do you have Red Bull boxers too?"

"No, I—" he cut off, remembering the company's joke birthday gift to him the year before. "Okay, I do, but they're not in my suitcase."

"At least let me throw a team logo pillow on the bed—"

"Absolutely not."

She fell into step next to him, an extra bounce in her walk. "Are you saying there's already one there?"

He shouldn't say it. It would probably be inappropriate. He told himself that repeatedly, even as he drew a breath and opened his mouth. "Why the interest in my bed?"

"I told you, I love sleep. Oh." She frowned. "It'll be a hotel bed anyway."

Opening the motorhome door for her, he glanced up at the cloudy sky as the aroma of flowers he couldn't identify washed over him. "No?"

"Are you saying you get an Airbnb?" she asked in confusion. "Do they even have that in Monaco—"

"You didn't know? I thought you asked Google everything," he teased.

Her brow furrowed deeply. "Didn't know what?"

"I live in Monaco. So no, it wouldn't be a hotel room."

The confusion melted away, her eyes widening a little. "Oh. Wow."

"Wow?" he echoed, heading to the stairs.

"You're rich rich."

"Don't say that," he requested, making a face. She made wealth sound dirty.

"In my defense I didn't think to look up everyone's salary when I got hired. I mean I knew you were rich, but—"

"Stop saying it—"

"Sorry." She smiled sweetly, which told him she wasn't sorry at all. "Have a good meeting, Max. Oh, wait!"

He stopped at the top of the stairs, huffing when she lifted her phone and snapped a photo of him. "Why do you need a picture of me right now?"

"To show the world that even Max Verstappen, three time world champion, record breaker and maker, is sometimes late for a meeting."

Dragging a hand over his face, he sighed. "You're in a strange mood today."

"I'm getting comfortable. It's what I do. Lull everyone into thinking I'm sweet and quiet, then once I know I can relax I let my true self out."

"I'm scared to ask what your true self is," he admitted, ignoring his phone when it began to buzz with a phone call.

"Chaos," she told him, snapping another photo. "And I'm so putting a team logo pillow on your bed next week."

"No," he warned her as she turned to go back down the stairs. "No pillow."

"Go to your meeting or I'll post on Twitter than you have Red Bull boxers!"

"You wouldn't."

"Try me, rich boy."

And, damn everything, he laughed. She spun at the bottom of the stairs, giving him a smile that was pure sunshine. Not about to tempt fate, he held up his hands in surrender and went to the conference room for the meeting, still smiling as he slid into his seat next to Checo. When the meeting was over he hung back, his smile long gone as he waited for whatever Christian had to say.

"Two things," Christian started, leaning back in his seat with a sigh.

Max rolled his water bottle between his hands and stayed silent.

"Your dad."

He nodded. "I'll talk to him—"

"He's on probation now. If he so much as looks at anyone the wrong way, he'll be banned from the garage and the paddock." Christian steepled his hands. "It would probably be best if I did it now, but…"

"I'll talk to him," Max said again, already dreading that conversation. "Sometimes he speaks before he thinks, and unfortunately y/n was on the receiving end."

"Are you defending him?"

"No. I'm saying…" What was he saying? He didn't even know himself, so how could he explain it to Christian?

"You're saying what he would expect you to say. Max." Christian leaned forward. "I know he's your father. But – what did y/n say? He creates a toxic environment."

Max was on his feet and pacing before he realized he was moving. "What do you want me to do? Cut him out of my life completely? He's my dad. He made me who I am." Slinging his cap onto the table, he ran a hand through his hair. "He gave up on a marriage so I could achieve my dreams. I know people call it abuse and yeah if I could change the past I would, or at least some parts, but… Would I be me if he didn't do what he did?"

Christian sighed and Max hung his head. The bitterness between team principal and his father had been around as long as he could remember. And he understood, he did. Most days even he didn't like Jos that much.

"What he said to y/n was unacceptable. I know that. When she told me, I…" He paused, unsure whether he wanted to admit what his first thoughts had been. Starting to pace again, he stopped at the window and looked outside, noting that the earlier clouds had rolled away. "I was ready to tell you to ban him."

Christian nodded. "You sure you want to talk to him? Because I'll do it. I don't have a problem telling him to go fuck himself."

"I should do it," Max said with a sigh.

There was silence from Christian, and Max finally snatched up his hat and sat back down. "I'll do it, Max."

He would never admit to the rush of relief at those words. "What was the other thing?"

"Y/n."

He set his jaw. "What about her?"

"She's off limits."

Max blinked. "How do you mean?"

"I've seen the way you look at her."

He pinched his eyebrows together. He wasn't aware he'd been looking at her in any particular way. He just…looked at her. It was true that she did make him smile a little bit more than he usually did, but that had to be due to her self-professed chaos—

"It's in her contract. Yours too, I'm sure."

"I'm – Nothing's happened." Yes, she'd slept in his private room and yes, his sheets had smelled of her and given him dreams he shouldn't have been dreaming. But nothing else had happened.

Soft hands, plush hips, bright eyes, lush mouth—

"Keep it that way. We can't afford another PR disaster."

Max snorted, unsure how anything he did – not that he would do anything – with y/n could come close to the disaster Christian had caused. "I'm not texting her, so."

"Cheeky bastard," Christian muttered. "Go get prepped for practice."

Grabbing his water bottle from the floor, Max left. Off limits. What the hell did that even mean? He couldn't be friendly with her? He couldn't keep his promise to watch a movie with Kevin?

Fuck Christian anyway, he wasn't one to talk about someone being off limits, he decided. He went down for another coffee, inconspicuously looking around for y/n. Not seeing her, he turned his attention to the upcoming practice, trying his best to push his worries about his father to the back of his mind.

When he approached the garage he saw her, and he frowned slightly when he saw Logan talking to her. Did they know each other? They obviously did, judging by the way she laughed at something he said. Sourness filled his mouth and he gulped down his water, grunting when a hand suddenly clapped his shoulder.

"Mate, you coming out tonight?" Lando asked with a grin.

"Not a good idea to go out before quali, mate," Max said automatically.

"I'm not gonna get drunk. A few of us are just going out to eat. You in?"

"I think I'll skip it. But we'll go out Sunday?"

Lando's grin widened and Max chuckled, knowing he was remembering what little he could of the celebration in Miami. Lando loved to party after a race. "Absolutely. Good practice, yeah?"

Max grinned, bumping fists with him before they parted. The American was still talking to y/n. Didn't he need to get ready? Go fluff his hair or something? Walking up to them, he nodded at Logan. "Have a good practice alright, mate?"

"Oh, yeah, better get to the garage." Logan turned and flashed a smile at y/n. "I'll see you later, okay?"

"Sure. Be safe," she said.

She was smiling a little too hard, in his opinion. And then she was—

Hugging? Him?

Max felt like he might vomit.

"Later, Max," Logan said as he jogged off.

"What did he want?" Max asked.

She looked up from checking something on her camera. "Hm? Oh, nothing, just chatting. He's nice."

"Yeah, a complete sweetheart," he said with a roll of his eyes. Then, shoving the sourness away, he cleared his throat. "I've got the sim racing tomorrow after quali, then the race is Sunday."

Y/n blinked, then nodded slowly. "Yes?"

"I promised Kevin we'd watch the movie?" he reminded her.

"Oh, yeah. Don't worry about it, I know you're too busy. He hasn't even mentioned it again, I'm sure he's already forgotten." She turned slightly and knelt to take pictures of his car in the garage.

"But I promised."

"Max, it's really not that big a deal."

It was. To her it might not be. If she couldn't do something with her son when she had promised she could, she was able to do it another time. He couldn't just show up to her flat to watch a movie. And Kevin had been so excited… He tried not to remember all the promises that had been made to him as a child, promises he had learned at an early age would never be kept. "Y/n…"

She looked up at him, drawing a breath to, he was sure, tell him again that it was fine. But she paused, studying his face, and he heard her sigh as she lowered the camera. "This is really important to you, isn't it?"

"And to Kevin," he pointed out.

"He did talk about it a lot last night before he went to sleep. Made sure the hotel tv had Disney plus and asked if Ellie would buy some popcorn…" She sighed, smiling. "Did you want to do it next week before Monaco?"

"I was thinking today? After the practice and debrief. If you're not too busy," he added, unintentionally looking towards the Williams garage.

"No, I don't have any plans. Just editing and posting, and I can do that while you two watch a movie. I've got plans for dinner, but there's plenty of time."

"Plans?" he asked, trying his best to sound casual.

"Yeah! Logan offered to take me out to see a little of the town. He's offered to be my tour guide."

At night. Now he knew he would vomit. "How delightful," he managed.

"Yeah, he's sweet. Don't worry, I won't give away any secrets."

The sourness returned, doubled, and he recognized it now as jealousy. Which was beyond ridiculous, because she wasn't his to be jealous over. Seeing that she was about to stand he immediately offered his hand, easily steadying her as she rose to her feet.

"Thanks."

He wondered what sort of cream she used on her hands. They were so soft. "Y/n—"

"Max!"

Y/n's smile faded and she practically snatched her hand away. "I'll message you the hotel info," she said, turning on her heel and sweeping into the garage.

"I need to talk to you," his father demanded.

Looking into the garage, he saw that he had a full thirty minutes before practice began. No way out of this conversation. Nodding, he followed his father to a relatively secluded spot, keeping his head down.

*-*

"His father is such an asshole, honestly. We were talking outside the garage and he marched up like he owns the—" Y/n glanced to make sure Kevin still had his headphones on and wasn't listening in. Seeing that he did and wasn't, she turned back to Ellie. "—fucking place and barked at him all 'I need to talk to you' like the guy isn't about to go out on the track."

Ellie made a face. "What a prick. What did he have to say to him that was so important?"

Y/n shrugged, bending to gather the dirty pair of socks off the floor. "No idea. He dragged him off and I could see them but couldn't hear anything. I felt so bad for Max."

"I would have too. And he didn't say anything when he got back to the garage?" Ellie smoothed the bedding while y/n stuffed the dirty laundry into a sack.

"Not to me." Sighing, y/n dropped the sack inside the bathroom and then got down on her hands and knees to make sure nothing embarrassing was lying around. "He looked like a kid getting yelled at, Ellie. I had no idea his dad was that much of an—"

She saw Kevin moving and stopped, getting to her feet while he set his tablet and headphones on the table. "Gotta pee, mama," he said, sliding out of the chair.

"Did you finish your game?" she asked while Ellie looked around to make sure the hotel room was presentable.

"Yeah, it's easy," Kevin said.

"Are you gonna tell him?" Ellie whispered.

"No… What if he can't make it? I don't want to get his hopes up." Y/n pushed the chair in at the table and checked the tablet, seeing that Kevin had indeed finished the alphabet game she'd downloaded that morning for him.

"If he doesn't come, maybe we can—" Ellie laughed when there was a knock at the door. "Never mind."

"It might not be him," y/n muttered, even though she knew it had to be. He'd been so insistent, and she'd been able to tell that it was possibly more important to him than it would be to Kevin.

"I'll make sure the lil rugrat washes his hand," Ellie murmured, slipping into the bathroom.

Y/n rubbed her hands on her thighs and went to open the door, giving the hotel room one last glance before doing so. And, just as she'd known, Max was in the hallway. "Hey," she greeted softly, eyes widening a little when she saw he was wearing a pair of sweats and a hoodie. "Holy shit, you're allowed to wear non-Red Bull clothes?"

He snorted, letting out a laugh when she just stared at him. "Very funny."

"No, no, I'm serious. Isn't that in your contract or something?" Stepping back, she finally gave him a grin. "C'mon in."

"I don't know if he's allowed, but I brought some sweets." Max held up the grocery bag hanging from one finger.

"Yeah, he's allowed. No allergies or anything," she assured him, closing the door once he'd stepped inside. "He's washing his—"

"Mister Max!"

Y/n nearly teared up. Her son sounded so excited, and she had a moment of panic for letting him befriend Max. He was too busy to drop by regularly, and after Monaco Kevin would be staying home with Ellie, so—

"There's my little mate!"

Fuck's sake, even Max sounded excited. As though a movie with a three year old was the height of his day. Looking on as he swung Kevin up and spun him in a circle, she took the bag and emptied the packets onto the table while Ellie greeted Max and brought out the popcorn from where she'd hidden it from Kevin. Max and Kevin talked nonstop to one another, Max telling him about practice after Kevin gave him a detailed report on what he'd done all day. The boy grabbed his tablet and showed him the games he'd played, showing off his alphabet skills.

"You're good with letters, yeah? Maybe you'd be good learning a new language?" Max suggested.

"Do you know a new language?" Kevin asked.

"He's really good with him," Ellie whispered to y/n.

"Shh," she hissed. Because she already knew. And she didn't need it pointed out to her. Besides, she was listening to Max tell Kevin about the languages he spoke, then to him rattle off a few sentences in each one, much to Kevin's amazement.

"Can you teach me?" he asked hopefully.

"When I can, kleine maat." Max ruffled Kevin's hair. "That means little mate."

"You're my big mate," Kevin decided.

"Grote maat," Max said, repeating it slowly a couple times before Kevin said it properly. "There you go. You'll be speaking Dutch like a pro in no time."

"You want a drink, Max?" Y/n offered. "We don't have Red Bull, sorry—"

"Water's fine. Thanks."

"Can I have water too, mama?"

Nodding, y/n fixed their drinks while Kevin turned on the TV and opened Disney+, rolling her eyes when he told Max the password so he could put it in for him. She saw that Ellie was putting on her shoes and raised her eyebrows. "Where are you going?"

"Oh, I don't want to intrude on big mate, little mate bonding time," Ellie said with a small smile. Peeling Kevin from Max long enough to give him a quick hug, she grabbed her wallet and phone. "And I've seen Mulan about six hundred times, so I'm just gonna go for a walk. Take pictures. Get a coffee and a pastry."

"Have fun," y/n said.

"Mhmm, you too," Ellie said with a smirk as she left.

She rolled her eyes and handed Max his drink then Kevin his cup. Motioning for Max to have a seat on the small sofa, she couldn't help but smile when Kevin immediately climbed to sit next to him, and had the feeling that before the movie was over her son would be cuddled close to his big mate.

"Join us?" Max asked while Kevin looked for the movie.

"Work," she reminded him, transferring the sweets and popcorn to the coffee table and getting her laptop. "I'll watch from here."

"It doesn't look very comfortable."

"It shouldn't. It's work."

He looked ready to argue, but instead took a sip of his water and grabbed a bag of candy. Tossing it onto the table, he gave a small shrug when she looked at him. "You said you like strawberry milk."

Y/n looked from him to the bag several times. He remembered that? She'd mentioned it during the Q and A, when the question had been other than red bull what's your favorite drink? Staring at the bag, she felt a sudden rush of warmth. No one had bought her candy in so long… "Thank you," she murmured.

"You're welcome," he said softly.

She almost told him he didn't have to, but she knew that he already knew that. He'd done it because… She didn't know. Maybe to apologize for his father's behavior. Maybe to show he listened. Maybe, just maybe, because he'd seen it in the shop, remembered her liking strawberry milk, and had bought it because that was something he did, buy a little something for no other reason than you said you liked it.

She tried to focus on work, but the movie kept getting her attention. Finally she gave up, scheduling the posts she'd edited and closing her laptop. Grabbing a bottle of water, she joined them on the sofa as Mushu revealed himself to Mulan. As she'd expected, Kevin had already crawled into Max's lap, sharing his bag of popcorn with the man as they both focused on the movie.

"Mama," Kevin whispered, reaching for her.

She scooted closer, sighing as he turned so he could lean against her arm. Max shifted, and she tried to act nonchalant when he draped his arm behind her on the back of the sofa. Smoothing her son's hair, she pretended not to notice when the arm slid to her shoulders. He probably hadn't even noticed, she told herself, aware that his eyes were locked on the TV screen, paying attention to the movie. When Kevin's favorite part began he sat up, quickly sliding to the floor to sing along and she fully expected Max to pull away from her.

But he didn't, and she pulled her knees up, unable to focus on anything except the weight of his arm around her. It was solid but not uncomfortable, a very real reminder that she hadn't been in this position in a very long time.

"He's so mean," Kevin mumbled as Shun-Yu appeared on the screen. Y/n waited for him to hurry over to climb into her lap but he chose Max instead, and she bit back a sigh when the man gently soothed him, hugging him close.

"It's okay, kleine maat. The good guys will beat him, yeah?" he murmured, pausing the movie.

Kevin nodded against Max's shoulder. "Yeah but he's bad."

"A lot of people are," Max said softly. "But if we focus on that we don't see the good. Do you think about your happy days more or your bad days?"

"Happy days," Kevin said.

"Because they make you happy, yeah? If you think about bad days you'll always be having them. It's like that with people. Focus on the good and do what you can to keep the bad from happening. Bad happens, but the good will always be there."

"Okay."

"You ready to finish the movie?" Max asked gently.

Kevin nodded.

Max finally looked at y/n, glancing down when he saw the way she was staring at him. "I didn't—"

"No, you're good," she promised in a whisper, picking up the remote to resume the movie then hugging her knees. If she didn't occupy her arms, she would throw them around him. Usually she had to explain those things to Kevin. Ellie helped, of course, but Kevin always came to her for more explanation after a life lesson. But Max… He'd explained it so eloquently and gently that he'd understood. And she didn't know why, but, god help her…

It was the sexiest thing she'd ever witnessed.

His arm stayed around her shoulders through the rest of the movie. When Mulan was cast out, she got a little emotional as she always did, even after over six hundred views, and she felt his arm tighten around her, hesitating a tiny bit before letting her head lean against him. All she could smell now was him, the gentle but memorable sandalwood and amber scent that she remembered well from the day before.

"Gotta pee," Kevin announced a little bit later, clambering down and running to the bathroom. Max took the remote to pause the movie.

Y/n began to pull away, lifting her head when he squeezed her arm.

"You're fine," he whispered.

His face was so close. Seeing a tiny piece of popcorn on his chin, she reached up to brush it away, freezing at the sound of his sharp inhale. "Sorry, you got a little…"

When the hell had his eyes become so blue? Just a day ago they'd been a normal blue. Now they reminded her of the antique blue willow china her great grandmother had treasured. Her gaze slipped to his mouth and quickly moved back to his eyes and she heard him inhale again.

"Max?"

"Y/n, I…" His eyes flicked down and she unconsciously licked her lips.

She knew she shouldn't but she suddenly, desperately, wanted to know what it was like to kiss him. She hadn't thought about kissing anyone in what felt like a lifetime, but now she needed it. Lifting her chin slightly, she dropped her hand to his chest. "Max—"

"Y/n, you… I—"

"Okay!"

She snatched herself away from Max as though she'd been burned, going so far as to jump to her feet while Kevin rushed back to the sofa. "Go ahead and hit play, I'll be back in just a minute," she promised, nearly tripping over nothing in her haste to get as far away from Max as possible. "Hit play, it's fine, I've seen it a million times."

Once in the bathroom she closed the door and leaned against it, covering her face with both hands. What the hell was wrong with her? Just because she hadn't been kissed since— She dropped her hands, wrinkling her nose in thought. Kevin was three years and two months, and… At any rate, it had been so long she'd assumed she was never going to be kissed again. She hadn't even thought about it in ages, because she'd been so focused on work and raising her son and trying to survive. Now, all of a sudden, she was craving one so bad she'd practically begged him.

He'd been about to tell her he couldn't. She was sure of that. Which only made it even more embarrassing. How could he even want to? She'd seen the girlfriends of other drivers on the grid, there was no way he'd be even remotely interested in her. She wasn't a model or tennis star or whatever their occupations were.

Not to mention she couldn't. It would be wrong on so many levels. What kind of impression would her behavior leave on her son? Not to mention the troubles it would cause at work? And it was in her contract that any sort of fraternization with other members of the team were forbidden. She'd known that but she had read the full contract on the flight to Italy. If she and Max did anything it would eventually come out and she'd be jobless again, this time in a foreign country.

Checking her phone when she felt it buzz in her pocket, she sighed while reading Logan's text.

We're still on right?

She wanted to say no. The best thing for her to do would be to suffer through the rest of the movie, say goodbye to Max, have an early dinner, put Kevin to bed, then take the world's coldest shower. But she was already typing out her reply.

Of course! Looking forward to it.

And she was, she thought, seeing the delivered change to read then the three little dots that he was typing a message. Logan was fun. Nice. Completely uninterested in her romantically, she thought with a sigh.

Great. Be there at 8 to pick you up. Give Kev a high 5 for me?

Will do.

Pushing away from the door, she turned on the water to wash her hands and jumped slightly when there was a gentle knock.

"Y/n?"

"I'm almost done," she called.

She heard his sigh. "Can I come in?"

No. "Yeah, sure."

He opened the door and stepped in, and she swallowed when he closed the door behind him. "I…"

"Max, don't," she groaned, washing her hands and grabbing the towel. "You don't have to tell me you wouldn't have… Even if I wanted you to. I know."

"Wouldn't have what?" he asked.

God, could the moment get any more embarrassing? "I – You – Jesus, never mind."

"Kiss you?" he murmured.

Why did the way he said it sound like so much more than a kiss? "It's fine. Go back and finish the movie."

"Y/n, I can't."

"You have to leave?" she asked.

"What – no, not the movie," he said. Cupping a hand over his mouth, he breathed deeply and dropped his hand after a few seconds, looking pained. "I can't kiss you."

"Oh." Oh. "Do you have a girlfriend or—"

"If I had a girlfriend I wouldn't be in this tiny toilet with you."

And she believed him. He didn't seem the type to put himself in a situation that could be misinterpreted if he had a partner. "Right. Of course. Then…"

"It's…" He sighed.

"Are you gay? Because I won't tell any—"

"I'm not gay," he cut in gently. "It's… I'm not allowed to kiss you."

She blinked, suddenly understanding. And she wondered if he'd read the contract, too. "Right. Neither am I."

"Christian talked to you too?"

"No? Why would he?"

"He told me you're off limits." Max shook his head. "Said I look at you or something."

"Oh." He did? And just how did Max look at her? "I see."

"And it's in our contracts. Yours and mine, I mean. So… I can't."

She nodded. "Of course. Understood. No more explanation necessary, Max."

"I wouldn't want you to lose your job," he said softly.

She continued to nod. "Got it. Thanks."

He tipped his head, then reached to take the towel from her and she realized she was still drying her hands. "I'll still be Kevin's friend."

Still nodding, she picked up her hand cream and squeezed a dollop into her palm. "Thanks. He likes you."

"I like him too." He hesitated, watching her carefully. "You okay?"

"Peachy keen," she promised, rubbing the cream into her hands. "Just getting ready for my dinner."

His lips settled into a fine line. "Your date."

The way he said it irritated her. As though she was in the wrong for making plans with a new friend. "It's not a date, but yes."

"I'm sure you'll have a wonderful time," he said with absolutely no emotion.

"Well, he's not contractually obligated to be nice to me, so… I know I will," she said, forcing as much sweetness into her voice as possible.

"I'm not nice because of a contract," he snapped.

"Right, sorry, my mistake. He won't not kiss me because of a piece of paper," she corrected.

Max's eyes flashed, a muscle in his jaw twitching. "I thought it wasn't a date?" he asked carefully.

Good, at least he had some emotion. "Oh, so I'm only allowed to kiss him if we're on a date?"

"I didn't say—" He cut off, pressing his lips tight together and exhaling slowly. "You said it wasn't a date."

"Why do you care either way?"

"Is it a date or not?" he ground out.

"It's not." She took her hair down from the ponytail as he sighed with something like relief. "But it could be in the future."

"What, so you'll kiss him because I won't kiss you?"

"If I kiss him, it'll be because both of us want it," she said. She knew she was being silly, maybe even a little stupid. But he was acting as though he were doing her a favor. As though he were somehow honorable, a gentleman even, because he refused to do what she now knew they both wanted.

"Y/n, I can't—"

"A word I'm sure you're not used to saying about yourself," she muttered under her breath.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, an edge in his voice.

"I didn't know that 'can't' was in your vocabulary is all." Looking at her phone to check the time, she cleared her throat. "Now, if you don't mind, I have to change."

He hesitated while she opened her makeup bag. "Do you want to kiss him?"

"Why do you care?"

He visibly bristled. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"Does he have a reputation for hurting women?" She picked up her hairbrush, and had brushed out her hair completely before he finally answered.

"No." It sounded like it hurt him to say it. "He's nice."

"Then you don't have to worry."

"Where are you going?"

"Oh, no." She laughed humorlessly. "You don't get to ask that. Now please, I have to change."

He stared at her, looking annoyed and irritated, his jaw still twitching. Then, with a huff, he turned to open the door. And froze when he saw the dress hanging from the hook. "Is… That's what you're wearing?"

"Oh my god, Max, you're starting to sound like a jealous boyfriend."

"I'm not jealous," he snorted.

"And you're not my boyfriend," she snapped.

She waited for him to turn around and restart their argument. Altercation. Whatever it was. Instead, he muttered something under his breath and snatched the door open. Went out, closing it. And sounded perfectly normal when he apologized to Kevin and resumed the movie.

Y/n was still annoyed even after changing and doing her makeup. She fussed over her hair, unsure whether she wanted to wear it up or down, finally leaving it down. She was fully aware that she was putting more work into her appearance than she would have if Max hadn't said what he had, and still knew she was being silly and stupid. Hadn't she just told herself nothing could happen between them?

Yes, but maybe if he hadn't acted as though he were doing an immense favor she wouldn't be so upset. I wouldn't want you to lose your job. Indicating that if he kissed her and they were found out, his job was secure.

"Sanctimonious prick," she muttered while she spritzed perfume on her wrists and rubbed them together. As she exited the bathroom the outer door of the room opened and Ellie came in, her jaw dropping when she saw her.

"Holy shit babes, you look amazing!"

She smiled, doing a turn for her friend. "You think so?"

"His jaw is gonna be on the floor the whole time. Holy shit, milf alert." Ellie whistled softly, waving her hand as though overcome with heat.

Y/n giggled. "Thanks."

The movie was ending and Kevin oohed and aahed over her dress, telling her over and over how pretty she was. Max stared at her, his jaw set, but said nothing, looking away and starting to clear up the remains of the snacks.

"Isn't she pretty, grote maat?" Kevin asked.

And even though her back was to him, she felt his gaze. Glancing over her shoulder at him while she fastened her necklace, she watched his shoulders rise and fall with a sigh. "Very pretty, kleine maat."

"You're supposed to tell her," Kevin whispered. "Always tell a lady she's beautiful. Right, aunt Ellie?"

"That's right, buddy," Ellie said proudly. She gave y/n an odd look, silently asking what had happened, narrowing her eyes when y/n merely shrugged.

"Because women are pretty all the time," Kevin went on and y/n smiled. At least she was doing something right…

After fastening her earrings she turned from the dresser, breath catching in her throat when she found Max staring at her. Vaguely aware of Ellie telling Kevin to wash his hands so they could eat the dinner she'd brought, she squatted, getting her heels from her suitcase, along with her shawl.

"Je bent mooi," Max said.

She met his gaze as she rose to her feet. "What's that mean?"

"You're beautiful," he whispered.

"Thank you." And though she knew it was catty, she couldn't help the words that slipped out of her mouth. "Do you think Logan will like it?"

His jaw twitched. "He'd be stupid not to."

"That doesn't answer my question," she practically cooed, slipping on her heels.

He made a sound of disgust in his throat. "He's annoying and dumb sometimes, but he's not stupid. So, yes, I think he'll like it."

"Look at you, hyping me up." She wasn't stupid either, she could hear and feel the jealousy. Good, she thought, getting her small handbag and transferring her few necessities to it.

"Is he picking you up?" Max asked. "Or are you meeting him somewhere?"

"Are you gonna stick around and question his intentions?" she scoffed. "Because if so, I'm meeting him."

"I just—"

"Do you want some pasta, Mister Max?" Kevin asked as he came out of the bathroom with Ellie.

"Ah, maybe next time," Max said after clearing his throat. "You eat some for me, hm?"

She wanted to be mad that he was so good with her son. Proclaim they could only ever be coworkers, then turn around and continue to be her son's favorite person. It wasn't fair. But she didn't want him to be mean to Kevin. So she smiled, fixing her shawl while Max told Kevin he would see him at quali tomorrow, wishing she could stay mad at him but that was impossible, especially when he lifted her son up and gave him a tight hug, telling him he'd enjoyed the movie.

"Can we watch another one day?" Kevin asked hopefully and y/n drew in a breath, prepared to say they couldn't ask Max that, he was too busy.

"Of course we can. You pick the movie and we'll watch it next week?"

He gave Kevin another hug then gently encouraged him to eat his dinner, smiling and saying goodnight to Ellie. Then he turned to her, and she felt an unexpected heat ripple through her as his eyes slowly looked her up and down.

"Thanks for coming," she murmured, walking him to the door.

"I enjoyed it." He rubbed the back of his neck. "For the most part."

"Kevin had a great time."

"Yes. And that's all that matters."

Ouch. "Goodnight, Max."

"Enjoy your dinner with Logan."

"I will."

He rocked back on his heels, exhaling harshly. "I'm…" He cleared his throat. "Goodnight, y/n."

She closed the door and bit back a whine. Stupid, stupid, stupid—

"Talk tonight when you get back?" Ellie asked gently, watching her while she fixed Kevin's plate.

"It's nothing," she insisted, double checking that she had everything in her handbag. Phone, ID and passport, room key, lipstick, mirror. "Just being stupid."

"You're not stupid, mama," Kevin said anxiously.

"I know, thank you. Sorry. Just feeling stupid."

"But you look so pretty," he told her.

She smiled, sighing as she crossed the room to kiss his cheek. "You're the best son in the world, you know that?"

He giggled, rubbing the lipstick from his cheek. "And you're the best mama."

"Only because you're the best son," she insisted.

"Do you like Mister Logan?" he asked suddenly, scrunching his face when she fastened the bib around his neck.

"He's nice. But he's just a friend."

"But." Kevin's lips poked out in thought. "He's taking you on a date."

"Dinner. You know how you miss Cotton?" She took a napkin and cleaned the smudge of lipstick from his cheek when he nodded. "He misses America sometimes. It's kind of like when you pet the cats on your walks."

"Ohh…" Kevin nodded with all the understanding a three year old could muster. "So he's gonna pet you?"

She blinked, instinctively reaching to swat Ellie's arm when her friend choked back a giggle. "Not exactly," she groaned. "We're just gonna talk."

Ellie was still giggling ten minutes later when Logan knocked on the door. "Sorry, sorry," she gasped when y/n shot her a glare. "I'll behave."

"That'll be the day," y/n muttered under her breath as she went to open the door. "Hey," she greeted warmly, smiling up at him.

He was dressed in slacks, a button down, and a jacket. His smile faded a little as he stared at her, and she saw his throat move as he swallowed. "Whoa. You look great."

"Thanks. You do too."

She let him in so Kevin could say hi, ducking into the bathroom to fix her lipstick and remind herself that it was just dinner. Logan was just a friend, or at least would hopefully be a friend. Saying goodnight to her son, she felt her shawl slipping, ignoring Ellie's knowing look when Logan immediately reached to catch it, his hands gentle as he draped it over her shoulders. Just dinner. Just dinner with just a friend.

But when they walked down the street to the restaurant, which was just around the corner, and his hand brushed hers she told herself it was alright. And when he slipped his hand protectively over hers she didn't pull away. In the restaurant when Lando and a few others called out to him she hung back, blushing when Logan gently tugged her along to greet his friends.

"Didn't know you had a date tonight, mate," Oscar commented, nodding to her in greeting.

She could have corrected him. Could have announced to everyone that it wasn't a date. But Logan's bashful chuckle warmed her and she smiled. "We American's have to stick together," she said, enjoying Logan's laugh.

"You know, England is an ally," Lando said with a smirk.

"Still haven't forgiven you for taxation without representation," she sighed.

"That wasn't me," Lando defended while the others laughed.

"Your ancestors though," Oscar told him.

"They were doing what they thought was right? How am I at fault now?"

"You opened your mouth," Carlos said with a laugh.

"C'mon, babe, our table's ready," Logan murmured, hand slipping to the small of her back.

"Enjoy your date!" Oscar called after them.

"I hope you trip over your independence!" Lando yelped when Oscar elbowed him.

Laughing, y/n let Logan guide her to the other side of the dining room, where they were thankfully shielded from the table of drivers. He held the chair for her and she thanked him while the waiter handed them the menus.

"I'm sorry about that. Oscar and Lando… I should have told them it wasn't a date," Logan said once they were alone.

"It's fine," she assured him. "I mean, technically, it is a date."

"I guess so. I just don't want you thinking I'm making it out to more than it is."

"What is it?" she asked.

"Two friends, hopefully. Spending time together." He looked up from his menu. "Probably should have taken you somewhere more casual, huh? This place makes it look like I'm trying to impress you."

She hadn't thought of it like that. "…Are you trying to impress me?"

"Do you want me to?"

Their eyes met and she slowly inhaled, thinking over what the best answer would be.

So you'll kiss him because I won't kiss you?

Do you want to kiss him?

She exhaled, sending thoughts of Max as far away as possible. "I think I do."

He looked relieved and oh, so handsome in this light. "Then I might be trying to impress you a little."

"You're doing amazing so far."

taglist

@spookystitchery | @halleest | @lyannesworld | @llando4norris | @kravitzwhore | @younxii | @silentreader128 | @samantha-chicago | @mrsbrxkkxr | @cmleitora |

[avatar-anna]

bad idea, right?

As you slipped a gold hoop through your ear, you wondered if you were making a huge mistake.

You weren't, you knew you weren't, but the butterflies swirling around in your belly were making you anxious. This was nothing, so why was your body reacting this way?

"Well don't you look hot!"

You turned to look at your roommate, jumping a little in front of the mirror. "Thanks."

She took that as her cue to come into your room, settling on the edge of your bed as you finished getting ready. You normally wouldn't mind, you and Marissa hyped each other up before dates all the time, but you didn't think she would be in favor of this particular outing. That alone warranted you to question whether or not this was a good idea, but you were confident it was, so you pushed it aside.

Well, not good, per se, but not bad either.

"Is that new? I've never seen you wear that top before."

You looked down at your cropped sweater, the one you'd cut yourself yesterday after buying it. The amount of time it took for you to figure out what to wear tonight was too embarrassing to admit—and perhaps what was more pathetic was the hours of shopping you did—but at least you'd settled for something that was on the casual side. The last thing you needed was to come off as if you thought about tonight too much, or worse, you didn't want anyone thinking you had expectations.

Shrugging, you hoped you appeared more nonchalant than you felt. "No, this was just... something I had deep in my closet."

"Really?"

No. "Really."

Having snagged the last earring in the set of holes on your right ear, you moved to the left. You pretended to focus hard on your task, even though you could've done it without the mirror, but now you were trying to hide your blush from your roommate. If she sensed something was off, she'd keep questioning you, and you really couldn't have that.

"I didn't even know you were going out tonight," she said. From the reflection in the mirror, you saw her eye your outfit one more time. "Where are you going again?"

"I never said," you told her. "It was kind of a last minute thing. Someone from class invited me."

"Like a date?" Marissa asked you. "Wait. Is this who you've been going out for coffee with the last few days?"

You winced, your hand having slipped and stabbed your ear on accident. You didn't realize your roommate had been keeping such close tabs on you, which was probably a good thing seeing as you lived in a big city together. But you hoped Marissa wasn't too perceptive. She'd kill you if she knew. So you put on your best smirk and said, "Could be."

Marissa kept peppering you with questions about the "mystery man," but you wouldn't budge. You couldn't. Finally done with jewelry, you turned around and presented yourself to her. "How do I look?"

"Like whoever you're seeing tonight is gonna fall to their knees when they see you," Marissa said.

"Perfect," you said. That was exactly what you were going for.

On your way out, the anxiety in the pit of your stomach continued to build, messing with your head and making you think this whole thing was a bad idea. It probably was, but maybe it wasn't. But then again...

"Fuck it, it's fine," you muttered. Then, over your shoulder, you called out to your roommate, "Don't wait up for me!"

"Text me at 12:30 so I know you're still alive!" Marissa called back from the couch where she was watching, re-watching, Pride and Prejudice. "And don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

Too late for that.

*.*

"Thanks for coming over."

You nodded as you took a sip of your wine. "Thanks for inviting me."

Harry grinned before sipping from his own glass. "This isn't weird, is it? I know inviting you over for dinner seems a little forward, but I feel like enough time has passed that we can catch up as friends, right?"

Friends. You really were an idiot. You'd been stupid enough to think that after the first few catch-up coffee dates, this might've been more, which was completely insane. You and Harry broke up almost two years ago now. When he texted you saying he'd moved back to the city, you agreed to see him and catch up, as any two people who used to know each other would. Then it happened a few more times, and then he texted you asking to come to his place for dinner, and you'd been confused but intrigued. Now you just felt silly.

"Y—Yeah. Of course. So, um, how—how are you?"

"Good. Just, you know, getting settled in the new apartment and finding my footing as a proper adult here and not a student. Did you know the Thai restaurant on 28th closed? I went..."

You listened to Harry as he spoke about moving back to the city, your eyes focusing on different parts of his face as you tried to determine which parts of him had changed and which stayed the same. Overall, he looked a little older, but that made sense seeing as a lot of time had passed since you'd last seen him. He had stubble on his cheeks and around his mouth as if he was trying to grow a mustache, something he definitely couldn't do when you were with him. His hair wasn't long anymore, but curled around his ears and reached just past the nape of his neck. He looked tanner, more muscular, more handsome. You could only hope he was thinking you looked more beautiful too.

"—about you?"

"Huh?" You hadn't realized that you zoned out the last few minutes.

Harry grinned, like he knew you'd gotten caught up in staring at him. "I was asking how you've been? Good, I hope? I mean, since I saw you two days ago, I mean."

Nodding, you took another sip of your wine, yet another thing that had changed since you were together. In school, it was whatever you could afford from the off-campus corner store. Now you were drinking from a bottle that had to be expensive. You couldn't even pronounce the label when Harry showed it to you.

"Good, I guess," you said. "Still in school, still working."

"At the MET, right?" Harry asked.

"Yeah. I'm doing guided tours right now, but once I get my master's I can start doing more research-based stuff."

"That's exciting. I know you've always wanted to work there," Harry said, inching closer to you on the sofa. It was currently the only piece of furniture set up in his apartment besides his bed. He'd apologized when you arrived thirty minutes ago. You didn't mind, though maybe you should've. Maybe this really was just a catch-up, not a hookup. When Harry invited you to come over, you thought there might've been some subliminal messaging, but he hadn't made a move, and the less-than-put-together apartment screamed that he wasn't trying to impress you.

Promptly, you attempted to drown your shame and embarrassment with a longer sip of wine.

"Thanks. You should stop by sometime. I get to give out free tours."

"I'd be happy to."

He hadn't done anything wrong, but now you just felt like an idiot. The entire time you were getting ready, you wondered where tonight would lead, debated if you should cancel or not because of said wondering. And in the end, maybe you should've because if tonight had told you anything so far, it was that you were hung up on your ex and all he thought of you was someone who could get him into the MET for free.

Tonight really had been a bad idea. Maybe even a terrible one.

"Um, is your restroom through there?" you asked, pointing at the shut door closest to you.

Harry looked over his shoulder to where you were pointing. "Yeah. Sorry, should've mentioned that earlier."

Setting your glass down on the floor, you stood up and hurried to the bathroom. You sat down on the closed lid of the toilet and pulled your phone out of your purse and shot a frantic text to Marissa.

You: i need you to call me with a fake emergency in five minutes.

Marissa: what? why? what's wrong?

You: i was an idiot

You: i'll explain when i get back

Marissa: five minutes?

You: make it four

Putting your phone away, you turned the faucet on so it seemed like you really had used the restroom. Now that Marissa was going to bail you out, all you had to do was finish your wine—it was really good, to be fair, so that wouldn't be a problem—and wait for her call. This night was not going in the direction you expected, and it was probably for the best to cut it short instead of letting it drag on. Dinner smelled amazing, and you'd wanted to share a meal with Harry more than anything, but now you just wanted to go home and wallow in your own stupidity.

When you came out of the bathroom, Harry was standing in his small kitchenette in front of the stove, stirring something that smelled delicious in a saucepan. With his back turned, you let yourself stare unabashedly for a few seconds before picking up your wine glass and polishing off its contents. With the small clink of the glass being set on the counter, Harry turned around, dimples set deep in his cheeks as he grinned at you.

"Dinner should be ready in a few," he said. "Here, come taste."

You knew you shouldn't have, you'd already made enough slip-ups tonight as it was, but you walked the few steps to his side anyway, opening your mouth when he raised a spoon to your lips.

"Wow," you said, honest shock in your voice when you tasted what he'd given you.

"Good, right? I've picked up a couple tricks over the years," he said, pulling the towel off his shoulder and reaching down to open the stove and pull out a pan.

"Yeah, you could never cook like this when we—Is that lasagna?"

For the first time tonight, Harry seemed sheepish. "Yeah. I was kind of hoping it was still your favorite. You used to love the one from that small Italian place a couple blocks from campus."

Had you read the situation wrong? Harry wouldn't have just made what he thought was your favorite dish on a whim. It was possible he still considered this thing you were doing platonic, but you foolishly hoped you weren't the only one who had expectations.

"Y/n?"

"I—"

Before you could say anything, your phone rang. Damn it, you thought, pulling your phone out of your purse. You answered it, trying to quickly come up with a way to call off the fake emergency. "Hey, listen, now's not a good—"

"I'm locked out of our apartment!" Marissa cried dramatically. If Harry hadn't been watching you, you would've rolled your eyes. You loved your roommate, but she didn't need to wail. "You need to come back immediately or I'll freeze to death!"

"It's the middle of July, M," you said, trying to put some intention in your voice to let her know you were fine.

"You know I have poor circulation and it makes me cold!"

"Have you tried calling the super?"

"I need you!" she wailed again.

"Okay, okay. I'm on my way," you finally said. "See you in a few."

When you hung up, you looked up at Harry, apology dying on your lips when you saw the disappointed look on his face.

"That bad, huh?"

You knew he wasn't talking about the phone call. "Maybe it's just me, but things feel awkward between us. I think we should stick to coffee from now on, you know? That seems a lot more friendly than—"

If you'd had any doubts about where Harry's mind had been regarding tonight, they were completely wiped away when he surged forward and kissed you.

You told yourself the gasp was because you were surprised, not because it felt so good to kiss him again after so much time had passed, though that did not go unnoticed by you. Everything about his lips on yours felt achingly familiar. Harry parted your mouth with ease, his hands sliding down your waist and gripping firmly. Your body reacted almost of its own volition, every one of his touches garnered an immediate response. When he settled his teeth on your bottom lip, your hands gripped his hair, when his hands squeezed your body appreciatively, you wrapped a leg around his waist, when he finally detached his lips from yours and began kissing and licking a stripe down your neck, you sighed and arched your back into him.

It was too good to be true. The way you felt, how pliant your body immediately became, his hair as it tickled your chin the lower his kisses went. It lit you on fire, made you want to burn brighter.

"Har—Harry—"

You didn't even know what you were going to say, but Harry took it as you needing him. He raised his head back to yours, taking your bottom lip between his own and sucking, his thumbs dipping below the waistline of your jeans casually. You leaned into the kiss, wanting more of the fire and intensity from the first one, but Harry wouldn't move any faster. His kiss was slower now, more drawn out, like he was attempting to taste every inch of your lips and savor it. It left you even more breathless than before.

"You thought I didn't want this? Want you?" he said, his teeth nipping at a spot where the zipper on your sweater opened.

"I—"

"Thought that the smell of my favorite perfume on you wouldn't drive me absolutely mad the second you walked through the door? I've been trying to be polite. I've been trying to be a gentleman because it's been so long, but maybe we can skip the pleasantries, hm? What do you think, mon rêve?"

It all became too much as he began to grind his hips against yours. He was still taking his time, as if there was nowhere else he'd rather be at the moment, and to be honest, you didn't want to be anywhere else, either. Using the nickname he used to call you put you over the edge. My dream, he called you, because he swore no one in real life could be so perfect that he had to have been dreaming when you met.

Bad idea or not, you weren't going anywhere. Even if this was just one night, you would make it count.

But the buzz of your phone had you pulling away with a start.

"Don't," he murmured, pressing the word against your lips with his, slowly reaching for the hem of your sweater to pull it.over your head.

"She'll keep calling if I don't answer," you said, obliging Harry's hands and hoping he would understand what you were trying to say. You weren't going anywhere, but if you didn't answer now, Marissa would track you down and come here if she was under the impression you were in trouble.

"Don't go," he said this time, kissing the line of your jaw up to the shell of your ear. "Just stay."

"And what happens if I do?" you asked breathlessly.

This wasn't a rekindling of a relationship, you knew that. Perhaps it was the familiarity of your embrace in a city filled with millions of people making you both feel drawn to each other. You'd broken up a long time ago for reasons that had yet to be discussed, one night wasn't going to change the history you shared just like that. You knew that even as you got ready to come over to Harry's apartment tonight. This was just...

"Two people can reconnect, can't they?" Harry said. He hooked your other leg around his hip and sat you on the small counterspace, his eyes heavylidded as they roved your face. His gaze sent butterflies alight in your belly, making you feel things you hadn't felt in a long time.

Before you knew it, your ankles crossed over one another on the small of his back. Your hand carded through his hair, and you grinned a little when Harry shut his eyes at the feeling of your fingers against his scalp.

Phone call forgotten, you leaned in, but moved slightly so that you kissed the corner of Harry's mouth. You kissed him all over, starting with his cheek, then along his jaw to behind his ear where you knew he was sensitive, making sure to leave a mark, just because you could. You couldn't contain your smile as he groaned and pulled you closer, held you tighter.

Your phone buzzed again, this time with a text. You didn't want to, and you could tell Harry didn't want you to, either, but you pulled away to look at it.

Marissa: hello?? i thought you were fleeing?!

"Are you?"

You held your phone close to your chest, having realized Harry read your text with you. Not letting him see the screen, you typed out a response, then locked it and set it down.

"This could be messy," you said, not sure why you were trying to talk yourself out of this. Or whom you were trying to talk out of this.

"Maybe," Harry said, running his thumb over your lip so that it separated and bounced back into place.

"And you're the one who said we were two friends catching up," you said.

"Friends hook up all the time," he said, undoing his belt with one hand while the other continued to play with you bottom lip. When he fiddled with the strap of your bra, you didn't stop him from gently urging it off your shoulder.

"I think—" the words died in your throat as Harry dipped his thumb past the seam of your lips, effectively shutting you up.

"And I think," he said, lifting you up and bringing you to the edge of his sofa. "I think I'd like dessert before dinner, What do you think, mon rêve?"

This whole evening screamed bad idea. There were too many tangled strings, too many unanswered questions, too many unknown variables. But Harry was already kissing his way down from your collarbone, his teeth grazing your skin in all the spots that made you keen and your breath hitch. Maybe it was a bad idea, but you'd come over anyway. Might as well see it through.

"Fuck it, it's fine," you muttered, gripping Harry's hair between your fingers and directing his path of burning kisses with little care for the aftermath that was sure to bite you in the ass tomorrow.

*.*

Harry was gone the next morning. Disappointed? No. Surprised? Maybe. It definitely meant there wouldn't be an awkward goodbye, but it also meant this really was a one time thing.

Which was good. You got it out of your system, got him out of your system. Last night was just a trip down memory lane. An excellent trip, but it was over now.

You stretched your arms above your head, working out the aches and pains from last night's fun. It had been a while since you'd been sore from having sex, and you'd kind of missed it—knowing that the night before had been so good that it carried over into the next day. Days, sometimes.

Searching for something to cover you up, you spotted Harry's shirt from the night before. Walking around in one of his shirts wasn't what you were going for, but it would have to do until you found your own clothes. Sliding it over your head, you prepared to stand on wobbly legs when the turn of a lock sounded at the front door.

Frantically, you rubbed at your eyes and whipped the shirt back off before lying against the pillows again as if you were still asleep, which wasn't hard seeing as you were still exhausted. Your heart was racing as you heard Harry step into the room, humming as he fiddled with his keys and kicked off his shoes.

You figured he would wake you up, but he didn't. To your surprise, Harry slid back into his bed next to you, his arm snaking around your waist and lips sponging kisses onto your bare shoulder. "You awake?" he mumbled, his thumb rubbing circles on the warm skin just beneath your breast.

Pretended to wake up, you breathed in deep and said, "A little."

"I don't have a coffee maker yet, so I went down the street. There's a latte with your name on it in the kitchen."

You smiled wide without really meaning to. You'd been thinking he'd just left to avoid an awkward conversation, but it seemed like you were both eager to put it off as long as possible. Shifting in Harry's arms, you turned to face him through half-opened eyes. His hair hung in his face, grazing the sunglasses he'd yet to take off. His sweatshirt was a little cold to the touch from being outside, making you shiver a little.

"Are you cold? Here." Harry pulled the sweatshirt over his head and helped you fit it over your head, which still had your hair wrapped in a silk scarf from last night.

When it was on, you grinned at the feeling of his warmth wrapped around you, of a cologne that was foreign to you but just as head-spinning. Reaching up a hand to his face, your fingers grazed his sunglasses. "What are these for?"

"My terribly embarrassing dark circles. I get those now," Harry said, one corner of his mouth turning up into a grin.

"Hm."

You weren't sure if he was in the mood to chat or drink the coffee he bought, but now that you were facing the broad expanse of his chest, all the tattoos that were familiar and the ones that weren't, you didn't want to do either of those things. Leaning forward, you kissed his chest, creating a path with your lips all across his body. Harry's stomach flexed, and you could feel the quickened beat of his heart when you passed over it. It made you grin as you worked your way down and sucked a hickey on his hip.

"You can tell me to stop," you said, just before reaching the waistband of his sweatpants and underwear, prepared to do away with both of them in one go.

"I don't want you to," Harry panted. He groaned at the cold air as you rid him of his clothes. "Still—Fuck, Y/n—Still reconnecting?"

You nodded, too caught up in what you were doing to speak. After a few minutes, though, just as you felt he was close, you inched your way back up and kissed him, your leg sliding over his waist.

"Yeah. Reconnecting."

*.*

"Harry?"

When you came home later that morning, Marissa was already awake and waiting as you walked through the door in your jeans and a hoodie that definitely didn't belong to you. She took one look at the sweatshirt and shook her head at you with a sigh.

"Yeah."

"He's the one you've been meeting for coffee?"

You hung your head. "Yeah. He moved back about two weeks ago."

Marissa slid you a mug filled with steaming black coffee, the smell alone waking you up slightly and bringing common sense back to your brain. You took it between your hands appreciatively, blowing over the top instead of meeting her eye.

"You know this isn't going to end well, right?"

Now it was your turn to sigh. "Yeah."

But fuck if it didn't feel right.

[bokutosbiceps]

sakura blossoms (pt 2)

monkey d luffy x afab!reader | fluff | ~1k words

warnings: none !! pls enjoy 😁

a/n: this is pt 2 to the sakura blossoms series !! i will be posting pt 3, which is full of smutty smut, in an hour !! 😁

click here for pt 1 !!

click here for pt 3 !!

18+ MDNI

luffy’s heart is racing, it's gone around the earth twenty times and now it's shooting for the moon and landing amongst the stars.

he can't believe you're laughing at him. or laughing with him, hopefully. he honestly doesn't care what's making you laugh, as long as it's him. he wants to make you laugh like this forever.

“what'd you say?” you giggle, covering your mouth with your kimono sleeve. luffy finds himself subconsciously slightly bending to the side to keep your lips in his line of sight. 

“sing like that again—for me.” he demands. 

you're laughing again. he's delighted.

“what's so funny?” luffy can't help but chuckle himself, lips parting to make way for a gummy smile. 

“i've just…never been asked for an encore!” you smile at him. “i'm glad you liked my singing…?” you pause, realizing you don't know this cute stranger’s name.

but somehow it feels like you've known this man with a strawhat hanging off of his neck for your entire life.

“oh! sorry!” luffy becomes extremely aware that he's staring at you and he's completely forgotten to introduce himself. he remembers learning manners somewhere once. “i'm monkey d luffy! and i'm the man who's gonna become king of the pirates!”

your eyes widen and you take a step forward slightly, feeling an overwhelming amount of gratitude for this stranger—luffy. he's the man who saved your country.

you grab luffy’s hands and hold them to your chest, looking at luffy with admiration sparkling in your eyes.

“you're strawhat luffy, wano’s hero!”

“‘m not a hero. just wanted to help a friend, just wanted your country to have good food for whenever ya want.” luffy feels his face heating up and his palms produce tiny droplets of moisture when you hold him. 

you giggle at his indignance and step back, keeping his hands enclosed in yours.

“i'm still grateful! so, of course, i'll sing for you and your crew.” you beam at him and luffy’s heart soars. “i'm y/n, by the way.”

“not my crew.” luffy shakes his head. “just me.” he says firmly, a smirk hiding in the corner of his lips.

your eyebrows twitch in confusion, but you don't question him. instead, you take this time to really look at him. 

he has caramel colored skin, sun kissed on top of that, with fluffy black hair and a scar under his left eye. the strawhat, still hanging from his neck, seems like it's seen better days. but maybe not. wide chocolate eyes are staring into your own and his smile is all teeth and gums. 

he’s radiant. 

luffy then turns both of his hands outward, so that he's grabbing yours now, and he's pulling you.

“c’mon, we'll go somewhere else so you can sing for me!” 

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

you never end up singing for monkey d luffy.

he took you across a barren wasteland filled with beasts, one he promised wouldn't be barren anymore, then through a jungle in which a river flowed. he told you how that same river had made his friend sick after she'd given him her last portion of rice, and that's how he knew he had to help.

you end up in a small shack strewn up in the trees, and the conversations continue. luffy wove his story and you wove yours, working until the fibers of each were about to intertwine.

you've never felt so comfortable so fast with anyone, let alone a man. but luffy’s youthful exuberance and his ability to make you laugh with his natural honesty made you trust him.

and luffy, he likes you a lot. more than he thought possible. he'd always told himself he'd cast love and feelings and all that aside until he achieved his dream. now, he thinks that having two dreams isn't so bad.

he's curled around you, laying on his side with one leg braced underneath him and the other open on the wood flooring below. you're leaning back on him, his belly providing a hard yet somehow soft cushion for your head.

breaks in the conversation are never awkward. they're filled with little gasps whenever luffy would pinch your side or giggles whenever your fingers would find their way through his hair. 

but this break in conversation is different. it’s filled with a long stare on luffy’s part, a nervous glance on yours. luffy’s sharp inhale fills the little cracks.

“you wanna know what i first thought of you?”

you immediately feel nervous. you know luffy is blunt and you know he doesn't really think before he speaks, so you're dreading his next words.

he doesn't wait for you to answer. “i thought you were pretty.”

your heart is encircled in flames of all different colors. “i thought you liked my singing?”

luffy hums, shifting underneath you. you think he's going to pinch you again, but he instead brings his knees up so that they're touching your thighs and he props his head up on his hand to face you.

“yeah! but i thought you were pretty first!” and luffy is smiling again. 

“is that why you wanted me to sing for you alone?” you ask, keeping your eyes trained on the ceiling. you can feel luffy still staring at you. he gives an affirmative hum and you feel your heart rate quicken.

“i still haven't sung for you…” you say. 

“you don't hafta!” luffy sits up, effectively knocking your head from his abdomen but using his quick reflexes to catch your head and place it in his lap. “i want somethin' else now.”

“and what’s that, luffy?” your eyes glance up to regard the young pirate, who is still cradling your head in his hands while you rest in his lap. he's leaning forward, so close your foreheads are almost touching, and you can feel his ruffled hair tickle your face.

he stares at you for a second or two longer before his lips stretch out into a mischievous grin.

“you ever kiss anyone?”

“kiss?” you say dumbly, feeling your mouth go dry.

“yeah! sanji said that whenever i find someone i like and they like me, i should kiss ‘em!”

you can only blink at him. you have no clue who sanji is, but you're silently thanking him for saying such a thing to luffy.

“so, whaddya say, y/n? you wanna kiss me?”

i'm tagging everyone who commented on pt 1 saying they wanted a pt 2 or rb, also the regulars 😗

taglist: @lavenderhaze00 | @n1ght5h4d3-24 | @333vil | @scentisterror | @jaree101-blog | @louisechec | @luffysprincess | @usoppsstar | @lalalolojoot | @bfshoto | @nina-a-pines | @pileofmush | @anemptypuddingcup

[words-etched-in-her-skin]

.•°☆..•.▪︎.°

You stopped in front of the library door before entering, taking a moment to fix your collar and straighten out your vest. The Lady had requested you meet her there at ten o'clock sharp, so you still had a few minutes to spare anyways. The smile that coated your lips had been there since earlier that evening, from the moment the Countess had pulled you aside at the Christmas party to inquire about your plans for the evening.

Of course you had none - even if it was Christmas. A day meant for warmth and the company of family and friends. Which, if you were being honest, you had neither - not really. Most of your family disowned to when you made the decision to come and work at the castle. And as for friends.. well, while there were a couple of maids that you occasionally spoke with, you passed most of the staff in age by at least a decade. Not that you considered yourself old - not by any sense of the word. And if it didn't bother Alcina.. well, then, what did it matter, really?

Still, you'd be lying if you said you hadn't been surprised when the Lady asked you. A slight twinkle to her eyes when you agreed.

The warm light that now radiated from under the massive door confirmed that she'd already lit the fire. And as soon as the clock began to strike ten, you slowly turned the door handle.

"My Lady?"

Your voice was quiet as you entered the large room, firelight dancing across the endless rows of reading material. The nostalgic smell of decaying paper and old books a more than pleasant mix with the newer scent of burning wood.

"Hello, dear."

Alcina's voice caught you off guard, making you jump. Words quickly losing themselves as soon as your gaze fell upon her, your mouth falling open. There she was, curves encased in firelight and draped in a crimson nightgown. A matching sheer robe adorning the width of her shoulders. Her position that of a goddess, laid on one side with an arm resting comfortably under her head. Her shapely figure soft against the warm glow and undoubtedly inviting.

"Ah-" was all you were able to muster out, making the Countess chuckle. A soft smirk curling at the corner of her lips as she took a sip from the glass wine she was holding, the warm liquid inside almost jewel like within its firey backdrop.

"Mh.. well said, pet."

Suddenly, the formal clothes that you wore were insufferably hot - unbearable even - a deep flush quickly taking over your body.

"Ah.. s-sorry, my lady.. you just.. look.. well, incredible."

You blushed deeply as you said it, but you didn't care. They were true. You had never seen a more beautiful sight in your life. And you were certain you never would again. Her raven lock hair and fair skin, basked in a glow that danced softly across the red fabric she adorned and flickered wthin her eyes. You swallowed hard and brought your fingers to the buttons of your vest.

"May I?"

The Countess nodded, leaning back. "By all means."

You let out a heavy exhale and quickly started the lengthy process, discarding your clothes as quickly as you possibly could before coming to sit in front of Alcina - wearing nothing but your underclothes. Her eyes were warm when she looked at you - filled with Christmas spirit.

Or maybe too much seasonal wine.

"What was that you were saying about 'looking incredible'?"

You bit your bottom lip and looked to the side. "Smooth, my lady."

"Honest, dear."

You were about to object when she placed her glass of wine on the ground next to her and pulled you close, her large frame casting you in a dark shadow. She was even more stunning up close, with heated embers dancing around her silhouette. Gods, you wanted her. You weren't sure how anyone couldn't. Not if they saw her like this. No way.

"You, ah .. you could kiss me, if you wanted...."

"Mh.. as you wish."

The tender kiss that met your lips was not what you were expecting. It was so soft and careful - gentle - as if your lips were the most fragile thing in the world. You placed your arms around your neck and pulled her a little closer, tongue dancing warmly over hers.

"Mmmmh." She moaned into you - tone aged, raspy.

Another sweep of your tongue as she had you on your back, kissing you deeply - profoundly. The sheer size of her encasing you as she leaned down.

"Spread your legs for me, pet."

You wasted no time in obeying her, discarding your panties as fast as you could. Her lips pressing firmly back into yours the moment they were off, large fingers coming to roam over your body. The Lady's eager mouth claiming yours over and over again, kissing you as if you were her only lifeline - your back arched and waiting for her.

"Ready?"

Is that even a question??

"More than."

The moment her finger slid into you, her mouth began to claim your flesh. Slightly intoxicated lips kissing up and down your neck, nipping at the soft skin of it as her finger thrusted in. You moaned - arms firmly wrapped around the Countess' neck, hips bucking into her. The subtle scent of mulled wine and cigarettes coating your skin as she slowly marked your body, making it hers.

"F-faster. Please."

"Mh.. needy."

You immediately screamed out when she picked up the pace, driving her finger into you at an overly indulgent speed - curling it with each thrust. You had never felt so good in your life. So warm, so aroused. Every inch of you covered in a deep flush as she pushed you closer and closer to your peak - steadily building the pressure deep within your core. Your need for her coating her fair skin and glistening in the firelight. She kissed you deeply again, tongue warming over yours as she slid a second finger in, pace immediately picking up.

"F-fu-"

You couldn't have finished your curse if you wanted to, a wholey heated orgasm rolling over you like bath water. Hips jerking as you muffled a scream into Alcina's kiss swollen lips and rode out your climax on her fingers. Her eyes half lidded as she looked down at you, a soft look of adoration coating their glisten. The next kiss that came was soft and gentle, allowing your breath to slowly steady.

"My lady-"

"Hush, rest."

"But.. you.."

"You will rest first, pet "

You gave in and nodded, Alcina's large frame holding you close as you breathed. The soft crackle of the fire and the steady of her breath the only sounds in the library - though, the distant sound of a winter's wind howling could be heard if you really listened. You snuggled into her chest, enjoying the Countess' unexpectedly warm demeanor for as long as you could.

"Merry Christmas." You murmured, making her chuckle.

"And to you." She replied, holding you a little closer.

•°☆..•.▪︎.°

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 36: Alexander's Desire

Previous Masterlist Next

June 1905

TW: mind control, captivity, human auction

Lex was bored.

He was surrounded by vampires all dolled up in their best attire, eager to see and be seen at the most high-end auction in the entire region, and he could hardly bring himself to care. All of the chatter was petty politics and gossip and who-is-wearing-what and who-is-buying-what, and it was hard to feign the slightest bit of interest.

Still, he did need a thrall. His long-time thrall Edmund had died of old age and blood loss after a lifetime of service. He'd been a good thrall, quiet and obedient, and his presence had eased some of Lex's loneliness. His loss was felt keenly. He knew that a good portion of the vampires here, even those who loved their human pets and servants, would scoff at the depths of Lex's grief over a mere thrall. Lex had always had too soft a heart, a fact that his sire never hesitated to remind him of.

Even so, the grief stung whenever he allowed himself to feel it -- whenever he had need to venture into the cold, spotless kitchen or start up the fire himself. He no longer had anyone to read particularly interesting passages of books to or play music for. There was no more wry chuckle when Lex made a mistake. No one to accompany him to the opera or ballet.

He'd hastily skipped the cattle pen of mind-wiped humans -- he found the entire idea distasteful, their vacant eyes unsettling -- in favor of perusing those designated as servants. Every one had bowed politely to him, addressed him as Mr. Alexander, and answered his questions briefly and with civility. Each one had been so enthralled as to lose most of whatever personality they might've had, and it might take years to draw any of it out of them, like it had with Edmund. The fashion of the time, unfortunately.

But his need for fresh blood couldn't be denied any longer, and even though these humans were unappealing in demeanor, his mouth still watered at the smell. At this rate, all he could do was pick out the most promising of the lot, take them home, and hope to coax some life out of them.

How tedious.

How very, very lonely.

There was, of course, one wild card, one wrench in the machine: his sire-sister, Lily, who had pulled him aside earlier that night to tell him about a secret project she had, a thrall that Lex would just love. That was mildly terrifying, coming from her -- Lex shuddered to think what she'd done to the poor human. Lily's skills in conditioning were second to none, but her ideas of what made a good thrall often ran counter to the grain.

He took his polite leave from the sixth vampire who'd stopped him in the hall, eager to curry favor with him and thereby curry favor with his sire, and headed into an ornately-decorated side room.

There, in the center of the room, stood a man with short blond hair, a stunning red velvet ball gown, and a cocky grin on his face. The thrall looked Lex up and down, and his grin only grew wider.

Lily was standing to his side, wearing some frilly pink confection of a dress. "This is the vampire I wanted you to meet, Fitz."

"Oh, this is Mr. Alexander?" said Fitz. "You didn't tell me he looked like this, sir. I might need to take back what I said about not wanting to serve a vampire."

"This is my special project, Lex," said Lily, bursting with pride. 

"The special-est, sir."

"Lex, meet Fitz."

"Charmed, sir, both literally and figuratively," said Fitz, bowing with a little flourish.

Lex stood there, stunned, not knowing quite how to react. "Are you... have you actually been... what I mean to say is, are you a thrall?"

"I've been hypnotized to hell and back by Miss Lily here, if that's what you mean, sir," he said. "But for better or worse, she's allowed me to retain my sparkling wit."

"Is that so?" Lex glanced over at Lily, who was looking incredibly smug. He had to hand it to her: this thrall at least wasn't boring. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen such life in the eyes of a thrall.

"But enough about me, sir," said Fitz, getting into Lex's personal space. He smelled like lavender and rich, delicious blood, and that confident smile paired with sparkling blue-gray eyes was undeniably handsome. "Let's talk about you. Specifically, why you should buy me."

"Isn't that also about you?"

"You got me there, sir." Fitz laughed.

"Why would you even want me to buy you?" said Lex. "You seem to have your mind intact. You know that you'd be my servant, you'd lose your freedom, and I'd drink your blood."

"I don't know if you noticed, sir, but that's going to happen to every human here, or so I'm told. If I'm going to be a servant and delicious meal anyway, I might as well pick my poison, right? And you seem at least to be a very attractive poison."

Lex had seen thralls fawn and beg before, but he hadn't ever seen a thrall openly flirt. It was nakedly manipulative, of course, but the fact that the thrall was even capable of manipulation was intriguing.

"What are your interests, Fitz?" said Lex.

"The stage is my passion, I'm proficient in magic tricks, passable at fortunetelling, excellent at cards, and dabble in all sorts of arts and crafts and handiwork, sir."

"Do you play any instruments?"

"The guitar and the piano, sir, although I wouldn't expect concert-quality performances."

Lex couldn't help but smile. A thrall that played music, and had his mind together enough to indulge in hobbies! He'd longed for a thrall like this ever since he'd buried poor Edmund. Despite himself, he was already losing himself in a daydream of Fitz in his music room, playing a simple tune on his guitar, filling his bleak and lonely mansion with song.

He shook himself out of it. He couldn't give away his interest too obviously.

"Hmm, let's see," he said, hooking a finger under Fitz's chin and directing him to look him in the eye. His blood smelled like a delectable feast, and it was eroding Lex's self-control. He couldn't hold back his vampiric aura, and he saw Fitz's eyes go wide under his influence. Oh, that was gorgeous. "If I were to buy you, would you offer your blood to me?"

"Yes, yes, sir," he said, now looking more like a dazed thrall, tilting his head to the side to expose his neck. Lex had found this fawning behavior uninteresting from the other, more heavily conditioned thralls -- but on Fitz, who just moments before had been bright and alert, it was intoxicating. "Being fed on by a vampire exactly like you is all I can think about lately. Drink, please."

Lex realized that he was far, far too blood-starved to rationally deal with this kind of temptation. He released Fitz from the spell, seconds away from losing himself and biting into merchandise that wasn't his. Yet, came the automatic thought, which he tried to dismiss.

Life returned to Fitz. "You deserve to drink from someone with blood as good as mine, sir."

"Oh?" Lex cocked an eyebrow. "How do you even know that your blood tastes good?"

"Well, a serious looking man in a very dapper suit told me that my blood was top shelf triple-A fancy grade, sir," said Fitz. "He seemed very authoritative, so I'm inclined to believe him utterly."

Lex laughed. It was probably the first time he'd laughed since Edmund died.

Oh, he was in trouble. This wasn't a thrall he would settle for because he needed fresh blood to live. He wanted this thrall. And he didn't like wanting anything -- it was a recipe for disappointment and disaster. And Lily was grinning like a loon. She knew.

"You're going to cost me a lot of money, aren't you?" he said in defeat.

"You're certainly not the first person to say that to me, sir."

Well, it wasn't like money was a serious obstacle to him. While this style of lucid thrall wouldn't appeal to some of the vampires here, the fact that Fitz had the highest graded blood Lex had seen at a local auction would drive his price sky-high regardless of his personality. And unfortunately, Lex already knew that he was willing to pay just about any price for this one. The thought of another vampire buying him, dragging him away by his handcuffs, sinking their fangs into what was rightfully his --

No, this was ridiculous. He had to keep his calm until the auction proper.

"I -- I really should -- I should take my leave and peruse the rest of the merchandise," said Lex as casually as he could muster, as though he hadn't already looked over most of the available thralls and found them lacking.

"Well, you're certainly not going to find anything better than me, but I understand the impulse," said Fitz. "I hope to see you again, sir."

Lex rushed out before he could get drawn back in.

He stalked down the hallway, past chattering vampires, hoping to find a relatively secluded place to clear his head, finally settling on a padded bench in a small windowless nook. His head was spinning with the desire to possess. He'd been starving for both fresh blood and companionship ever since Edmund's death, and still nothing else had sparked the flame of need so deep inside him as this one particular thrall. His mind was filled with fantasy of Fitz playing guitar and singing in the music room, of Lex stroking his fingers through his hair while they lounged by the fire, of how his sparkling eyes would look when Lex enthralled him to feed...

And the way Fitz had entreated him to feed! That was all Lily's deep conditioning, of course, but it seemed so real coming from him, as though his need for a vampire's fangs was genuine. He'd always known Lily was a genius at enthrallment, but Fitz had to be her finest work yet.

Lex tensed at the sound of approaching footsteps, not eager to make pleasantries with yet another respectable vampire, gushing over some empty-eyed, mumbling thrall and asking Lex to convey their respects to his hated sire. He was relieved to look up and find that the sensible black shoes in his line of vision belonged to his old friend Ruth, one of the sharpest minds in the city.

"Good evening, Lex," she said, sitting on the other end of the bench. "I do hope I'm not interrupting some important brooding."

"You're not interrupting anything in particular. The distraction will do me some good."

"So are you not finding anything you like? That's a bit surprising given how long you've gone without a thrall."

"On the contrary, I may have found something I like too much," he admitted, perhaps unwisely. Ruth was also close friends with Lily, and Lily was bound to be entirely too self-satisfied over her little project's success.

"Ah, is it Lily's little pet? He's quite interesting, isn't he? I think I may bid on him. He'd make an excellent clerk."

Lex couldn't keep the half-horrified, half-ferocious look off his face, his baser instincts howling at the idea of having his new toy taken away from him. Ruth cackled. "What's that face? Don't worry, I'm only teasing you. I won't stand in your way -- you're obviously in need of a proper thrall. Or an improper one, as the case may be."

The jealous knot in Lex's chest loosened. He needed to calm himself before the auction proper, lest he make a scene like an unschooled fledgeling. "I appreciate it," he said. 

Ruth put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "It's actually quite a relief to see you desire a thrall again. The strict repression your sire tries to enforce isn't good for you. After all, what's the point of dragging these old corpses around if we can't even enjoy ourselves?"

Enjoy himself?

When was the last time he'd truly enjoyed himself? Before Edmund's death, certainly, in the times when his manor had been less lonely, and he'd had quality blood to drink. Even then, it was difficult for him to grasp more than fleeting moments of contentment -- his master's pursuit of perfection over happiness had its roots deep in his mind. Truly, he'd been denying himself for so long, and in so many ways.

He wanted this. He needed this. He was going to own Fitz, and no vampire would stand in his way.

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I'm sure this will all turn out fine.

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[alyswritings]

Don't Hit

Request: Hi I love your work! Is there any chance you could make a JJ maybank x sister reader? The reader is young, 8 years old, she makes JJ mad and she thinks he is going to hit her so she screams like ‘I’m sorry, please don’t hit me’ and he instantly feels bad. Then she apologises and runs out of the chateau to John B and pope

JJ Maybank x sister!reader

Summary: JJ accidentally scares his baby sister.

Warnings: mentions of abuse

a/n: thank you for the request! hope you all enjoy!

(gif not mine)

When JJ was seven, his dad somehow managed to hold down a girlfriend for a few months. What anybody would see in Luke Maybank, JJ didn't know. He was always drunk or high and he's scary when he's mad.

By time JJ was eight, Luke's ex-girlfriend had dropped a baby girl off at the Maybank family's doorstep. All that came with her was her birth certificate and a note explaining that she was Luke's kid and that her mother couldn't handle it, so she left her with Luke.

JJ wasn't sure about keeping the baby. Sure, he always wanted a sibling, but he knew that if she stayed there was a chance he'd have to go through what he did. And he wouldn't wish that on anyone, not even some stuck up kook.

Luke always talked about giving her away, but he never actually cared enough to drop her off somewhere. Despite always saying he'd take her to a fire station or orphanage or something, it somehow ended up never happening, and before they knew it, Y/N was officially growing up in their care. Well, JJ's care.

Luke didn't do anything, JJ taking on all of the responsibilities. He went to the chateau and got Big John to teach him how to change diapers, what babies can and can't eat, tricks to help her fall asleep when she's fussy.

Big John let JJ and Y/N spend the night whenever they needed. As Y/N started to grow up, JJ got help from both Big John and Pope's parents. It was much easier when she entered school so that JJ didn't have to worry about where she'd be while he went to school.

He missed a lot of school days, passing by some weird miracle. Luke only participated in the whole procedure to get Y/N into school since he knew it meant she'd be out of the house more.

While Luke often says mean and vile things to Y/N, she's only been a victim of his physical abuse a handful of times. JJ always manages to protect her and makes sure he takes any hits that could be given to her.

All of the pogues treating Y/N like their own little sister. The only time she's really not with them is when they go to keggers.

JJ and Y/N are currently at the chateau, like they usually are. Aside from John B, Pope is the only other pogue there. The three guys are outside while Y/N is inside.

Y/N is playing with her toys, dressed up in a princess dress. Y/N is trying to make a fort and needs the blanket. She pulls it off a bit and shakes it, trying to flatten it out.

She hears something crash into the wall and then a thump on the floor. Y/N drops the blanket, walking around the other side of the bed, finding JJ's phone on the floor.

Y/N nervously picks it up, her heart dropping at the big crack on the screen. Y/N tries to turn it on, but doesn't get anything.

"No, no, no." She mumbles. JJ usually doesn't get too mad at her for anything, understanding she's still young and also that mistakes happen. Even when he does have to be stern, he still doesn't really scare.

Y/N hears the door to the house open and then slam shut and footsteps move closer to the room. She stands upright, holding the phone behind her back, watching JJ walk in.

"Hey, Y/N. Have you seen my phone? I gotta show the guys something." JJ says, not really giving her a look as he continues to rummage around for his phone.

"Um..." She mumbles, trying to think of how to tell him.

"Why is the blanket all fucked up?" JJ asks, but sees the chairs, realizing she wanted to make a fort. "Oh, cool. You need help with the fort?"

"Uh..." She whispers nervously. JJ turns to her, finally noticing the nervous look in her eye.

"Whoa, hey, what's wrong?" JJ asks.

"I... I didn't mean to." Y/N mumbles.

"Mean to what?" JJ asks.

Y/N looks down and she holds the broken phone out. JJ snatches the phone out of her hand, looking at the cracked screen. He tries to turn it on, tapping it a few times.

"Oh, come on, come on. No, no, no." JJ quietly whines. "What the fuck?" He harshly whispers, mostly to himself more so than Y/N. She glances up at him, anxiously fiddling with her dress. "What the hell happened?"

"I... I accidentally threw it." Y/N timidly answers.

"Accidentally threw it? How the hell do you accidentally throw something? Y/N, you know not to touch my shit! Especially if it's fucking breakable!" JJ yells. Y/N whines a little, tears gathering in her eyes. "I've told you, don't mess with things that aren't yours and you have to be careful with my phone! You know better than that!"

"I-- I'm sorry." Y/N says.

"I need this thing for work, but now it's freaking broken!"

"I'm sorry! Please don't hit me!" The eight year old sobs.

JJ freezes at her words, his face paling at the mere idea of him laying a hand on her. He swears he feels his heart shatter as he looks into her scared eyes full of tears which stream down her face.

While JJ has been able to save her from most of the abuse, he still hasn't been able to completely hide her from it. She's seen Luke hit JJ on multiple occasions, it scaring her almost as much as when he tries to hurt her.

"Kiddo, I'm not--" JJ holds a hand out to touch her shoulder, his heart dropping and tears springing to his eyes when she flinches away from him.

"I'm sorry!" Y/N hiccups, running out of the room, and a moment later, JJ hears the screen door fall shut. JJ takes the best deep breath he can. He feels anger at himself and he throws his phone across the room, it breaking.

JJ lets a small sob out, sitting on the bed, burying his hands in his hair.

Y/N runs out to where John B and Pope are sitting and she crashes into Pope.

"Whoa." Pope mumbles, making sure his beer doesn't spill on her. The two share confused looks before hearing her crying. Pope wraps his arms around her tightly, rubbing her back. "What happened?"

Y/N doesn't answer, only continuing to sob. Pope puts his beer down and pulls her onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her more, trying to console her.

John B puts his beer down and gets up, rushing inside the chateau. He goes into the bedroom, finding JJ sitting on the bed with his head in his hands.

"Dude, what the fuck happened with Y/N? She's out there, soaking Pope's shirt with her tears." John B says. "Dude, what's up?" He asks after JJ doesn't answer.

JJ finally lifts his head, John B noticing the rim of the blonde's eyes red. His eyes are glossy with tears and there tear stains on both his cheeks.

"Dude, what the hell happened?" John B asks, his voice both now holding confusion and concern.

"I didn't mean to." JJ mumbles.

"Mean to what?" John B asks, sitting next to his best friend.

"I... I scared her. I'm my fucking dad, man." JJ sniffles.

"No. No, JJ, you're not your dad." John B argues. "Look, just tell me what happened?"

"I... I came in, looking for my phone. And-- and I couldn't find it, and then she was holding it and-- and it was cracked. And I don't-- I mean, I was mad, but I wasn't that mad. I wasn't mad enough to snap at her, I-- fuck. I fucked up."

"She broke your phone?" John B asks.

"Accidentally." JJ says. "She-- she said she accidentally threw it." JJ says. "But she... I-I was yelling and-- and she was crying and... she asked me not to hit her." He says, his voice quiet as it breaks. "She thought I was gonna hit her." He cries, pressing his eyes into the palms of his hands to keep the tears in.

John B's not completely sure what to do, but places a comforting hand on his friend's back, letting him know he's there.

"JJ, you're not your dad." John B states, his voice soft but also firm so he gets his point across. "Sometimes people snap and they yell. You just have to apologize and she'll be okay."

"We don't know that." JJ says.

"Yes, we do. She loves you more than anything, JJ. And she knows you'd never hurt her." John B says.

"No, man, she flinched." JJ states. "I-- I reached out to put my hand on her shoulder or-or hold onto her hand, and-- and she flinched. I made her flinch."

"Kids can be jumpy." John B shrugs, trying to dismiss it.

"So it's just a coincidence she flinched at her brother who kept yelling after being traumatized by watching her dad hit said brother countless times?"

"Yes." John B nods. JJ gives him a look. "J, look, just-- just you know, calm down. Collect yourself so you don't break down in front of her or something, and then go talk to her. She'll forgive you, it'll be all right."

John B pats him on the back before leaving to let JJ have some time alone.

- - -

JJ managed to calm down eventually and he makes his way outside. He sees John B and Pope by the porch and they both point out Y/N who is on the hammock.

JJ walks over, seeing Y/N playing with a handful of flowers he knows she picked from somewhere around the chateau.

"Munchkin." He gently calls. Y/N looks up, quickly looking back down. JJ harshly swallows, doing his best to keep his emotions under control. "Can I sit down?" He asks, reaching out towards the hammock.

Y/N seems to consider for a moment before nodding. JJ sits on the hammock, keeping whatever distance he can from her so he doesn't scare her off.

"Look, sweetie, I... I am so sorry... for yelling at you -- for scaring you. I never wanted to scare you or-or yell at you. I should've been calmer about it. And I'm really, really sorry." JJ tells her.

"I'm sorry I broke your phone." Y/N frowns.

"Can you tell me how it broke?" JJ asks. Y/N nervously glances up at him. "It's okay. I won't be mad, I promise." Y/N stares at him for a few seconds, comforted by the reassuring, soft look in his eyes.

"I... I wanted to make a fort. I needed the blanket and-- and I shook it so I could get it flat. And then I... I heard something hit the wall and it was your phone. I got... I just got really scared and I didn't want you to hate me or hurt me like dad does." She sniffles.

"Hey, hey, hey. It's okay. It's okay." JJ reassures. He goes to hold her, but stops, remembering how she flinched last time he reached out. "I'm not mad at you."

"You're not?" Y/N asks.

"No. No, I'm not mad. I'm not mad. I don't hate you. I'm not gonna hurt you." JJ promises.

"I'm... I'm sorry I flinched." Y/N says, a few tears falling down her face.

"It's okay. It-- I should've known better. The emotions were too high for physical contact. It's okay." JJ says.

Y/N puts the flowers down and gets up, tightly hugging JJ. He wastes no time in wrapping his arms around her, feeling relieved she's not scared of him enough to not let him hug her. He holds onto her as tightly as he can without hurting her.

Y/N buries her face in his shoulder and starts to sob making JJ tighten his grip.

"It's okay, munchkin. I got you. I got you." JJ soothes.

"I don't-- I don't like daddy." Y/N sobs.

"I know, baby. I know." JJ says quietly. He closes his eyes, trying to keep his tears in so he doesn't start crying. He strokes her hair, kissing the side of her head. He wishes she didn't have any experience with their dad. Part of him wishes her mom would've kept her because then she'd never know Luke or the pain he's capable of causing.

"I got you, munchkin. I got you." JJ continues to comfort.

After a while, Y/N's cries start to cease and she cuddles into JJ's chest. He keeps his arms around her, his head resting on top of hers as he plays with the ends of her hair.

"Hey." JJ quietly calls, lifting his head. Y/N looks up at him and he cups her face. "You need to know that I would never, never, ever hit you. I will in no way ever cause you any sort of injury or pain. As you get older, and with me responsible for you, we'll probably fight sometimes, but I will never hurt you. Okay?"

"I know." Y/N nods.

"You do?" JJ asks and Y/N nods, giving him a small smile. "Okay." He whispers. He kisses her on the forehead, bringing her back into another hug, swaying them back and forth a little.

Y/N pulls out of his hold and grabs her flowers. She picks a yellow daisy out and smiles as she places it behind JJ's ear.

"What's that for?" JJ asks.

"You look pretty." Y/N grins, patting his cheek. JJ chuckles.

"Okay." He mutters, grabbing one of the purple flowers. He tucks it behind his sister's ear, making sure it says. Y/N giggles, hugging JJ again.

"So... you still wanna go build a fort?" JJ asks. Y/N gasps, excitedly nodding. JJ softly smiles, glad to see her usual happy grin and sparkling eyes.

Taglist: @glxwingrxse @venomsvl @wildieflower @aliciacat20 @allyson15 @gabbylovesreading @itsmaneskinbitch @ironmaiden1313

[sapphicwhimsy]

heres my gift for @kerrosin as part of @mcyt-summer-of-yuri! i hope you like it!! take my heart, pull it apart on ao3!

"Congrats on getting together," Cleo says, and decidedly does not add the 'finally' she wants to. She watches Gem press herself as close as possible to Pearl, curled up in her lap, and Pearl trills softly, in a way that isn't quite human. No doubt something Pearl didn't expect Cleo to hear, but Cleo knows better than to make any comments on it. She just watches the happy couple, pressed as close together as could be.

She's happy for them, really. Truly. She's happy enough for them to know better about teasing something that's so obviously new and tender for the both of them, where they're both so clingy and desperate to be together. Not that it's truly anything new for the two of them to be pressed to each other's side, but it's completely different to have Gem in Pearl's lap of all places, head pressed firmly under her chin, as close together as they could physically be.

It's cute, in an almost sickening kind of way.

Pearl's cheeks are decidedly not a human shade with the blue on her cheeks, arms wrapped around Gem, but Cleo knows better than to mention that either, especially not with the way she ducks her head down and buries her face into Gem's hair. Gem's pointed ear twitches, a more human shade of pink staining the tip with her blush, and she looks to Cleo, smile sheepish but unabashedly so very happy.

"Thank you," Gem says, earnest in her reply. They both look so happy, and Cleo couldn't be happier for them. Even still, Gem looks sheepish, chewing on her bottom lip. "You're actually only the second person we've told."

"Really now?"

"Aside from Impulse, you're the only one who knows."

"I'm flattered. But I have to ask... Why me?"

Pearl is the one to look at them then, bottom lip worried between her teeth. She looks nervous, fingers twisting around each other and picking at her nail beds, and Cleo can see the hesitation. Fear momentarily strikes into their heart, a conversation already playing at their mind, and the words come out before she's truly realizing she's speaking them.

"If you're here for advice, I'm afraid you've come to the wrong person." The tone is maybe a bit harsh, because Pearl throws her hands up, letting go of Gem for the brief moment. She waves them about, as if to clear the words from the air.

"No! No, we..." Pearl swallows, and their eyes meet. An unnatural shade of blue stares back at her, a different shade than the blue on Pearl's cheeks, but the comments about it stays locked behind her lips. They know what it's like to not be human, though they've never truly tried to pretend like Pearl, and know the fact that she's showing any of these weaknesses around her means she's at ease. Finally, Pearl seems to find the words she wants, because she rubs a hand across her face. "I just thought, after Christmas..."

Christmas. Her present, Pearl all dolled up to look like her. Horns at the ready, phrases prerecorded. They'd spent the whole day together, nothing but laughter and giggles, hours by each other's side. Pearl's makeup had seemed impeccable, perfect. They looked exactly alike, not a difference to be seen between them besides the name tag above Pearl's head displaying who she truly was, if anyone was to take a glance at it...

And then after all day, she'd asked how. How did Pearl look exactly like her? How had she kept this up all day? No makeup had been smeared, not a slip that showed who she was behind it all. It was like she'd had a clone next to her side, a perfect replica, and they wanted to know. It hadn't been meaning to pry. Not really. It was just a question about how she'd done her makeup so flawlessly.

There had been a moment of fear. Worry. It wore on the copy of her face in an unnatural way, before Pearl had confided in her. Trusted her with something she'd only told Impulse and Gem so far. That she wasn't normal, and that singular word had sent an arrow straight to Cleo's heart like nothing else ever would have. They knew all about not being normal.

Pearl wasn't normal, because she wasn't human. The words all came out in a rush, because she trusted Cleo. She shared her secret, words heavy in the night air between them, confiding that her flawless makeup had been a disguise. Something that clung to her skin, like the one she wore every day. She was scared to let anyone know, kept the secret close to her chest, and...

And oh, Cleo had assured her it was alright. That she knew about not being what everyone else saw as normal, that she understood what it felt like, at least in a way, because she didn't love the same as everyone else. Not romantically. She never would, understood how it felt to not quite feel like you fit in...

Pearl trusts her. Fully, and completely. This is something new for Gem and Pearl, something scary. Something they aren't ready to tell everyone about just yet, and. And they both trust her with it. Trust her to know.

"Thank you," Cleo eventually says, because the swell of emotion the realization brought up makes it hard to speak. The blush makes sense now. She trusts them. Cleo tries to not let that twist any feelings in her heart, though it's already too late for that. They clear their throat, and glance away, because it's easier than anything else.

They aren't known for being soft, aren't known to be the one everyone would go to first for things like this. They aren't a kind and gentle being in any sense. They're sharp barbs and easy digs, and maybe a little dirty with their jokes. She isn't soft or sweet, or endlessly kind and caring. But they both still trust her, with their newest secret.

It's almost nice. To be so completely and entirely trusted with something like this.

But it is, in it's own flavor, overwhelming. She looks back at them, at the way the two are watching her, and clears her throat.

"How about a castle tour, while you're here? I've done some work since the last time anyone was around."

"Sure!" Gem agrees, without missing a beat. She can seek the change of topic, the necessity for it, and hops off Pearl's lap easily. She only waits for a moment for Pearl to stand before she's taking her hand, their fingers twisting together, though Cleo pays it little mind. They're happy, and she's happy for them.

"Great!" Cleo stands as well, clapping her hands together. She gives them a moment to press a quick kiss to each other's lips, and with it, the urge to tease is too great. She won't let them go the entire day without a few jokes at their expense, after all. "While we're at it, how about you tell me why you both took so long to confess?"

And the flustered sputtering she gets in response is well worth it all.

[dronebiscuitbat]

Give me a Reason: Chapter 8 - "Bonding with Cheese Rolls"

Weirdly enough, while she certainly saw him in English, Mrs. Gable, the teacher. Made sure that not a sound came out of any of the students in her classroom, she looked like a librarian, and wanted silence like one. Looking over her beaded, old lady glasses and shushing the class every time anyone made a noise… intentional or not.

Which made sure N couldn't even begin to speak to her at all, and every tap of his foot or fingers on the desk was met with instant ire from their teacher, which meant he couldn't do that either. And Uzi had to watch him squirm uncomfortably in the oppressive silence, aside from thier teacher occasionally addressing the class about the book she'd assigned them to read… which is what they were supposed to be doing.

And considering his next class was clear on the other side of the building, he gave her a wave goodbye before he rushed out the door so he'd make it to his next class, if she was being honest, watching the tall lanky boy try to run was… cute.

In a incredibly awkward, dorky way. He was literally all limbs and clearly had just hit a growth spurt recently because he was clumsy as all hell.

So the next time she saw him was at lunch. And by the time she'd exited the line with a cold burger, soggy fries and a salad she didn't trust. He was already sitting down and had dug into his lunchbox. He looked over to her, waving with some sort of breadstick in his mouth.

“What is it today? Your sister make another gourmet meal?” She teased, looking over into the box, this time it was pasta, a couple of mini breadsticks and a small salad. “That would be a yes.”

“This is just leftovers from last night.” He replied after sucking down a breadstick like he was a rogue vacuum cleaner, though he did look over at her tray. “At least it looks a lot better today.” He offered, and Uzi just frowned as she took a fry between her fingers and wiggled it, the fry displaying it's bungie cord like properties to the world.

“Or… not.” He looked sympathetic, but Uzi sighed, dumping ketchup all over the fries and the burger before wrapping a cluster of fries in a slice of cheese and popping in in her mouth.

“It's not the worst.” She hummed before realizing N had stopped eating just to stare at her incredulously, blinking like he'd just seen a ghost. “What?”

“Did you just… wrap your fries in a slice of cheese?”

“Yeah? What? Judging my food choices?” Her eyes narrowed at him, and he threw his hands up in defense at her glare while shaking his head.

“No! Nothing like that! I just… was caught of guard I guess? It never crossed my mind to do that.” He looked inquisitive, cocking his head as he looked down at her, amused, and the defense she suddenly put up went down again.

He wasn't judging her… just was curious.

“It's better then doing anything else with it… they don't have any salt.”

“Gross.” He agreed.

“You wanna try it?” She asked, surprising even herself at the suggestion, maybe it was his genuine curiosity, or maybe she was just trying to prove she wasn't crazy.

“I'm down for anything once. But I don't wanna take your food…”

“Trade for one of your breadsticks?”

“Deal.”

He placed one of his breadsticks on her plate along with a small dab of garlic sauce while she prepared a cheese roll with the second slice of cheese on her burger and handed it off to him, he took a long look at it, before popping the whole thing in his mouth like she had.

She watched his reaction, his face scrunching up as if he expected it to be bad before relaxing as he went on, he nodded after a moment, a surprised and amused look on his face.

“That was way better then what I was expecting!” He hummed, smiling down at her and causing yet another smug look to grace or face. Along with one of her classic gremlin laughs.

N immediately got a huge smile on his face. Oh my god, that laugh is adorable.

“See? Though actual cheese fries would be better…” The moment quickly passed and she tried the breadstick he'd given her, it went without saying, but it was unfairly good paired up with the garlic sauce and in comparison to what was already on her plate.

“I think I would be four hundred pounds if dad could cook like this…” She mumbled, being entirely honest with him for a moment, and he laughed while digging his fork into his pasta.

“I'll take the compliment up the chain.”

“That sounds like you live in a fancy restaurant or something.” She took a drink of the milk cartoon before tensing, looking into it and closing it again… looks like she lost the coin toss on weather it was spoiled or not.

“Think I'd be a good busboy? My speeds not bad.” He replied, meeting her sarcasm with more of his own.

“You definitely have the winning smile for it, bet you'd get lots of tips.” She replied, smirking at him, it wasn't intended to be flirting… but it did almost sound like it.

At this he blushed, not used to getting compliments even if it was only an implied one, she liked his smile? Most people thought it was weird, too wide, or fake.

“Thank you…” He mumbled back, not sure what else to say. Uzi looked at him for a moment, confused on why he was thanking her, and even more confused on why he'd gotten so quiet.

She'd said something weird again, now he's not gonna want to talk to you anymore. Just like every other time you've started talking to someone, good going.

Fine. That was fine. She'd kept him at arms length for a reason. This wouldn't hurt, he'd sit somewhere else tomorrow, stop talking and that would be okay, easy come, easy go.

She got quiet, really quiet. Refusing to look at him anymore.

“Uh… you okay?” He asked suddenly, making her look back at him, the smile was back on his face, though now mixed with a little bit of concern.

“You started looking a little sad, then got really quiet… I didn't upset you did I?” He asked, looking nervous while talking to her for the first time ever. The mental spiral she was going down stopped abruptly.

He thought he upset her?

“Oh- uh, no I'm fine. Just… thinking about something.” It technically was true, she was thinking, though maybe she should stop thinking, considering that she'd completely misread the situation.

The bell rang moments later, leaving them both without finishing their lunch.

“Aww, biscuits…”

[demonslayedher]

The Taisho Secret canon content regarding The Legend of Zenitsu has unfortunately made me have to give up beloved concepts in this future!Zennezu headcanon post. Most specifically, Old Man Zenitsu's with a mustache, because Word of Gotouge says he never grews facial hair. Zenitsu is probably far more disappointed than I am about this.

But also, it has all given me a much deeper headcanon about "The Legend of Zenitsu" being a bonding experience in their marriage, for Nezuko is a big fan, like so, what with Nezuko being a willing model for Zenitsu's praise-worthy paintings.

And is my brain spinning headcanons again? Yeah.

--

Zenitsu wished he could rub it in Tanjiro's face that he got a book deal. Not on everything, just on "The Demon Slaying Arc ~Fated Encounters~," "The Heavenly Maiden Arc ~I Am Willing To Die For You~," and "The Life of the Man Who Loved The Spirit of the Plum Tree Arc." No one else deserved to know "The Tastiness of Nezuko-chan's Cooking" anyway, for Zenitsu had described it too well and it would be like sharing his wife with a bunch of slimy readers. Bad enough that he still had to share with Inosuke all the time.

But Tanjiro didn't rub it in. He smiled and made as kind a sound as even, and congratulated him.

Maybe Tanjiro had grown too mild to say or feel anything more than that.

Because Zenitsu had a publisher and small fan base, he got paid a small advance to keep writing. Not even to stop going to an office job in town, if he wanted to to keep spoiling Nezuko with nice things. The stroke to eager made him write "The Beautiful Swordswoman Nezuko Arc" in one night, but "The Golden Dragon Wandering Alone Arc ~Go And Rescue Nezuko!~" was one he slogged through. It was getting to be a handful, going to work and raising a kid living up to expectations now that people had them of him. It felt good at first, but it made the writing less fun.

His heart was hardly in it when he wrote the "Botamochi from Zenitsu Arc." The sales tanked, and Zenitsu's publisher didn't bother him when he said aside his pen for a while. It was a long while, and there were other things going on anyway.

Not long after Tanjiro died, Nezuko caught a flu that was going around. It honestly made Zenitsu a little glad to have an excuse to leave his kid with Aoi for a while so that he could have Nezuko to himself while she was contagious. He didn't need anyone's help to take care of him, because every cell down to his soul cared only about how he might pamper and comfort her.

"Nezuko-chan, come on and drink a little. It'll make your throat feel better."

"I can't. I don't want to," she moaned. Tears escaped her hopeless eyes. She still must have felt so gutted, and Zenitsu knew he could do little to fill her for the time being. Some of that hopeless look must had been from thinking she'd never be free of the headache, but at least that much he might be able to soothe.

"Why don't you rest your head on my lap for a change? Here, I'll stroke your forehead for you."

"You should sleep."

"I can do it in my sleep," he smiled to her. "Actually, did you know that the legendary hero Agatsuma Zenitsu can be even more powerful when he sleeps?"

At this, she gave him a weak smile. The first he'd seen lately. "Yes."

"It's true! It's because he can hear the sound of his wife at his side. It powers him up like lightning coming right out of his empty eye-sockets! Actually, there was one time when he blinded his enemy before the roaring sound of his power knocked him over."

"Or the sound of his snoring."

"No, no, it's thunder like it shoots right out of him! You see, it all started one night in a terrible, creepy forest, when he saw a helpless man swooped backwards into the tree tops..."

When Nezuko recovered, Zenitsu picked up his pen again, and published "Rumble of the Knock-Out Secret Swordsmanship of Zenitsu Arc ~The Legendary Man’s Eyes Shine With Light~" not long afterward. It sold decently, and it was nice to hear that he had some fans who were excited about it.

Life fell back into a new busy normal, and Zenitsu's muse was fickle. "The Potato Feudal Lord Arc" was just a passing thing for fun, not something he'd ever tell his publisher about. It was more fun for a while to try out other things, like painting. As long as Nezuko was his model, Zenitsu found he had a knack for it. He ran into Yushiro one time though, who told him he was a hack, and they got into a big argument that ended with Zenitsu throwing all his brushes and unused canvases at him and daring him to do better. Those had all cost a lot of money, so Nezuko was not happy about that. Likewise, she wasn't happy when Zenitsu refused to sell a painting of her and tore his pants while throwing a fit.

By the looks of Nezuko's ledgers, it looked like Zenitsu was stuck at that desk job, selling electricity around the little mountain foothill town. He had been there so long that he got promoted for being good at sitting in the same chair for years, and that meant moving closer to a bigger town, closer to the growing metropolis, where Zenitsu felt right at home and Nezuko assured him she would adjust.

What would Tanjiro think, now that nobody bought charcoal anymore?

The world that once had demons seemed further and further away and the droll of adulthood stretched on, and powers he couldn't behead with a swift Thunderclap and Flash fought amongst themselves. More and more, there were expectations of Zenitsu, and people depending on him. He had to assure people they would still have light and heat even as Tokyo burned, and the sound of planes rattled his ears almost daily. He was a man of his community now, and the only one his family could depend on. At Nezuko's insistence, they collected nearly-blind Kanao and his nephews and niece, and he tried to insist to Inosuke to stay with them in town where there were bomb shelters, but Inosuke, just as responsible for his own family, felt he kept them safest going deeper and deeper in to the mountains.

Nezuko knew nothing but worries. Sometimes, he almost wished she could be back to a childlike state of mind, protected from all the pain and horrors she so unfairly had to endure. In the darkness of a bomb shelter, he hugged her close as she trembled. "Say, Nezuko-chan. Do you remember that time..."

"What?"

"...that time the great hero Agatsuma Zenitsu was a teeny-tiny, but very, very strong mouse?"

He could hear her worries lift, however slightly. Maybe that was all a mouse could do.

"Actually, it was when he was a little boy. You'd never guess it, but he was very cowardly. That was a terrible warlock with a fancy red mark around his eye painted him with a magic white makeup that turned him into a mouse!"

She stifled a snort against his chest. "Uzui-san..."

"Yeah, that was the warlock's name! Did I already tell you this story before?"

"A mouse?" his son clung tighter to him, sometime he hadn't done in years. Even when he was little he always clung to Nezuko instead anyway. Zenitsu could tell by the tone of his son's voice that he was already teary-eyed and sniffly.

"Yeah. A little mouse who thought he had no power at all. That the world was too big for him. But as it turns out..."

What really hurt was Nezuko's reaction. She sighed with disappointment, and lamented that this was why he spent so many long hours away from home.

That was a story Zenitsu recorded later, as a memory of those times. It stayed on his bookcase at home next to the Potato Lord story, now that the world was quiet again.

Business picked up really well. The world got brighter, and so did the indoor lighting. As a general sense of optimism filled the world again, the small but dedicated base of "Legend of Zenitsu" fans called for a new installment. He responded well to praise, and soon gave them "The Dragon Palace Arc ~Eternal Nezuko~," but being so busy as a highly promoted seat-warmer at the office meant he had things he had to do while sitting in that seat. He put on weight again, and spent a lot of sad, long evenings stuffing cookies in his face while streaming with tears that he couldn't be eating one of Nezuko's homecooked meals instead. "Sitting In A Happy Circle and Boiling Tea in Our Bellybuttons Arc" was something he secretly wrote at his desk as a form of silent protest. His publisher rejected that one after reading only one page.

Of course! He had to be at home to write his best work! He had to be in the same space as his muse, Nezuko! Another quickly written revenge work of his, "The Future Holds Zenitsu Arc," was considered one of his better ones.

After that, he was satisfied with writing for a while, and he muse pushed him to start playing (perfectly) the piano. Nezuko was not thrilled about the piano he bought.

If only he had taught it to Nezuko, then. Her joints all bothered her, but she kept sewing out of willpower.

This new hobby inspired another novel, and Nezuko inspired another novel after that of course, and the stress of their son getting married and wanting a lavish wedding inspired another novel and another novel after that was a desperate attempt to strike it big and get out of the debt that wedding cost them. After all, Zenitsu's daughter-in-law was a cutie and he wanted to spoil her. It made Zenitsu remember how cute Nezuko was when they were newlyweds, and before that too, of course, and now too, and before he knew it he had written yet another novel, despite his dwindling fan base. Nezuko sure liked that one, though, and that was all that mattered.

The years went by. Zenitsu felt he lost his mind over how his granddaughter got cuter every time he saw her, and he eventually reached some arbitrary age when his company could only promote him to retired. Aside from the aches in his legs, he felt as young as he always did, though. Kanao said it was probably the effects of Breath technique. It sustained them without reaching a threshold at which it would be dangerous to them.

Zenitsu still wrote sometimes. He stayed busier when his busy-body grandson read the old unpublished "The Birth of Zenitsu Arc" and insisted on learning Thunder Breath. That was like a new job Zenitsu never asked for, especially since he still only knew one of the original six forms, but Kiriya sent him a letter askeing him to give it a shot, for who knew what the future held. Certainly not demons, Zenitsu was assured of that much. If Yushiro gave his novels a bad review one more time, he'd make sure of there were no more demons left in the world.

He got back in touch with Inosuke. He thought it might never happen after he abandoned the old house and charcoal mill, but the whole time, Inosuke had been on the mountain next to it, where he had always been King of the Mountain. He still took care of the house, he said. But a King still had to be King. They weren't the only people on the mountain, though. Aoi paid house calls. Still, Zenitsu gave Inosuke a stern lecture about making Nezuko (as well as Kanao) worry, so Aoi made sure to drag Inosuke into the bigger and bigger city sometimes.

Zenitsu's newest hobby to drop money on was photography, but now that he was a pensioner, Nezuko did not mind so much. She even agreed to let him fulfill his dream of taking her to Paris. He was glad he had that camera, to prove how the city could not outshine her.

He was glad he took her when he did. Her joints made it harder and harder for her to get around, even though she always smiled and insisted Zenitsu's legs must hurt more. He didn't like it when she laughed and joked around about chopping her legs off to grow new ones.

"Grandpa," his youngest granddaughter looked to him with a tearful face, "Grandma was saying something about being a demon again. I wish she'd stop that."

"I know, right!? She's a princess, and the very spirit of a plum blossom tree! A shrine maiden too!"

"There's no way someone like Grandma would ever go to hell."

He paused, and his stomach sank.

Nezuko gave up her sewing. She spent more and more time in bed, but with no desk job to sit at and a grandson taught enough that he could be told to go off and practice on his own, Zenitsu spent his days writing again. He took a long time on that novel he wrote for her, putting in all the sorts of parts he knew she liked. Sometimes he couldn't help himself and reads parts aloud to her without telling her everything else that already happened in the story. She smiled and enjoyed each fragment anyway.

"I've finally got the title for this one!" he announced. "It's called, 'I Will Be In Love With You A Thousand Years Arc.' Perfect, huh? Well, maybe it's still missing something. A million years, maybe?"

"Zenitsu-san... tell me a story..."

"I am! I'm telling you the greatest story yet! It's about this immortal princess who..."

"Tell me a real story..."

He paused and listened to her heartbeat as she took a breath--a simple, unpracticed breath in tired human lungs. Nezuko still made the same warm sound that she always did. It had a different resonance when she was a demon, and when he carried another life inside her, but it was always uniquely her.

"I want to hear... about the time you spent with my brother."

"Tanjiro? Yeah, he... hasn't been in these for a long time. Maybe I'll bring him back."

"You cared so much about him," she smiled from her futon. "That was why you protected my box, before you even met me."

"He... yeah."

"I'm glad you were such good friends... I want to hear about all those good things that happened to you. About your Ojiisan, and your little bird..."

"Yeah," he grimaced to a smile, and the inside of his nose zapped like a storm was brewing. "I had a lot of good things happen to me. A lot of bad things too."

"It's up to you to decide if you're happy or not. I hope... you'll decide you were happy."

"Yeah," he said, the snot already flowing. "The happiest. I'll tell you all about it. I'll make it my best story ever."

"You promise...?"

He kissed her forehead. "I'd never be able to come up with anything better than the truth."

[nothingxs]

FFXIV Write // Morsel

Her muscles were sore. Her back felt tight, overworked. Her ears were ringing and her headache was getting worse. Her sword arm in particular was exhausted beyond belief. Every single fiber of her being roared in pain, and exhaustion had threatened to lay her low several times over, but she figured that stillness, particularly in those moments, would be death.

She had never felt more alive than in the past bell.

She didn't really know what was happening. Horizon was just another stop for work, as far as she knew. But the sky had turned red and flame descended from the sky. No sooner than she had started to help unload that cart than she noticed a massive, hulking beast had turned the corner out from behind an alleyway, roaring before charging at the cart she was protecting. It swung its heavy arm and crashed into it, destroying it and sending goods flying everywhere—and people running.

"Run! I'll hold it off!"

Blade swung up to meet claw the next time, but Celica's long sabbatical had taken its toll on her strength and reflexes. The claw sent her careening off into a crate, smashing it.

No time to recuperate; it was upon her again. She ducked and tumbled under it, running her sword across its underside as she did, causing it to howl in… something. Pain? She could not tell, it was nothing like she'd ever heard. She turned to see a woman, panic slowly setting in as it faced the two of them down. She turned and barked in that commanding tone she hadn't used in so long:

"Get yourself together! Go, grab them and run!" She pointed, directing her to a huddled mass of people; children within. "They need safety! Go!"

The woman gasped, focused, looked around, then with a sudden focus in her eyes —purpose, she thought; when was the last time Celica had purpose?—she ran off to help the stragglers.

Just in time for Celica to get slammed aside by another swipe of the claw. She grit her teeth, coughing up blood. And yet she stood again, defiant, blade held in the way Hector had taught her so many years back, a wild glint in her eye and a grin. If she was going to go, this was as good a way as—

CRACK! CRACK! Gunfire echoed through the streets, over the din of on-going chaos.

The aberration's head rocked away, then swung as the two heavy impacts collided against the side of its massive head. It bellowed out another incomprehensible roar—frustration, Celica thought. She turned to look at the source of the noise, and saw a Viera clad in turquoise garb strafing around, firing round after round from a handgonne while she fiddled with an aetheroconverter at her side, preparing for a follow-up.

"Come, darling! The show's not over yet!"

Spurred by those words, with a grit of her teeth, Celica dug her feet into the ground and sprung forth, and lunged, a loud roar escaping her as she brought her blade up, challenging the unholy beast with blade bared forward.

—

She sat there, looking up at the still-red sky. Well, can't be Dalamud, she thought. That's long passed.

What was it? Who could be sure. She swallowed again and shifted her weight, still trying to deal with the soreness. She saw the woman she had earlier helped and shot her a smile. She nodded in return, and the family she had helped returned the wave. One of the children came back with a jug of water, which Celica was all-too happy to drink.

The Viera from earlier approached her again. Now, she got to get a good look at her: darker skin, tall, a carefully-styled head of dark brown hair and self-sure expression, clad from head to toe in brilliant turquoise and earthen tones. In her hands, a pair of skewers. She reached down to offer one of them to her.

"Well, darling, I've never quite seen anyone fight like that. Here, my treat." She grinned down at her.

"I'm Vex. What do I call you?"

[mumms-the-word]

For apprecimaytion: 10

Me: maybe I’ll write something for someone other than Gale

Also me: *sees the prompt is poetry* well frick how can I do anyone other than Gale it’s POETRY

Gonna do a smallish copout and use some of the poems from @sorceresssundries Gale’s Poetry Journal 👀 one she wrote for Dani and one I wrote for Gale. I’m not going to post the whole poems but I’ll link them!

Edit: Also I’ve been informed that this event is meant to be written about other people’s Tavs and Durges but consider this post my appreciation of @sorceresssundries’s poetic works 🥰

~*~*~

Dani lay with her arms folded behind her head on her bedroll, watching the afternoon clouds float by, dusted in gold and pink. They’d decided to make camp early, since tomorrow they’d be investigating the mountain pass, looking for Lae’zel’s alleged crèche. But Dani was bored. More than anything, she wished she had a good book. A good smutty book, perhaps.

She sat up, eyeing the library rock and the books stacked up there. Since starting this journey, their library of books had grown, sometimes stowed away in a chest that seemed infinitely deep, and sometimes, like today, scattered about on a surface. Gale had come through a short while ago, pulling out books and leaving them in stacks, apparently in search of something specific, before leaving the haphazard collection on the rock to disappear into his tent. She hadn't seen him for the better part of an hour.

She got up and approached the rock, scanning the books for a familiar title. A tawdry tale about Balduran, perhaps, or even some of the kids' stories they’d gotten from the Grove. But her eyes landed, instead, on a book she hadn’t seen before. It was a leather-bound book with no title on the spine and a generic pattern pressed into the cover. Curious, she picked it up and began to flick through the pages.

A journal, she realized. A journal of poetry. Her eyes scanned the handwritten lines with interest, absorbed by the words. They were beautiful, intricate, haunting….familiar.

It struck her all at once whose handwriting this was.

She flicked her gaze over to Gale’s tent, but he had yet to emerge. She bit her lip against a smile and set the journal aside, finding a blank page from a different book to tear out and quickly write down a poem on. The words had lingered in her head for a while, with her mulling over how to turn them into a song but always hitting a snag. Maybe it was never meant to be a song. Maybe, she realized, it was meant to be a little note.

O to be a book in his hands…

For the last couple of days, they'd been flirting and teasing each other. For the last couple of days, she'd tried to encourage him to abandon his reservations and simply live. She understood his concerns. The orb, of course, and all the danger around them. But even so, she found him compelling. Handsome. Intelligent. Funny. Kind. Try as he might to place a little distance between them, she kept pursuing.

That wasn't what she wrote about, of course. Try as she might, she was a witty cynic more than she was a romantic. Even here, her poetry, though lyrical, had an edge to it. A teasing throughline. A bit of cheeky wit and playful feigned innocence.

This was a poem about man holding a book, and nothing more.

At least, on the surface.

She closed her eyes and focused on the image of a book in Gale's hands. His long fingers cradling the spine and cover. His dark eyes focusing on the page. She opened her eyes and kept writing, until at last she reached the final stanza.

to witness from below the touch of his tongue to his fingertip which he guides to the corner and slips between the folds and with a practiced flick turns over the leaf and smooths it down with the flat of his palm

She smiled to herself, scanning over the lines. A rustling sound, like tent fabric movement, caught her attention and she quickly folded the parchment and tucked it into some of the back pages of the journal. It didn't matter when he read it. It was enough to know that it was there.

She grabbed a book at random and returned to her bedroll.

---

She didn't see the journal again for days. They'd journeyed through the shadow cursed lands and come out the other side victorious in several ways, and she was eager to be back in her beloved city. But they weren't there yet, resulting in one more night out in the wilderness.

She and Gale had made it a habit now to bed down together. If they even bothered pitching more than one tent, it was usually with the two of them close enough that they might as well be one tent.

She laid back in his embrace, with him propped up on several pillows, idly writing down lyrics in a journal that she had acquired some time ago. Songs that she knew well, but wanted to keep in a personal songbook. A few new songs, too, but those were in scattered notes at the back. Gale rested his chin on her shoulder, watching her write for a moment before he finally turned his head and kissed her cheek.

"My love, can I show you something?" he asked softly.

"Hm? What is it?"

He reached over to grab something and then set down over top of her journal. She recognized his poetry journal instantly. It looked worse for wear, the leather creased, the edges of the pages dinged and dirty, but she knew it was his journal. She'd been hoping to see it again for some time now. She feigned surprise and looked up at him.

"What is this?"

"Don't play coy," he said, smirking faintly at her. "You know exactly what this is." He indicated a small bookmark, little more than a fraying ribbon. "Go on, open it. There's something I want you to read."

She opened the book to the page he had saved, finding herself faced with his handwriting again. Where before some of his poems had been written in a slightly erratic, yet elegant hand, this one was written carefully and clearly.

A Sonnet for the Bard

She looked up at him again, surprised, but he merely smiled warmly at her and indicated the page with his eyes. A hint to keep reading. She settled back against him, whispering the words to herself as she read.

Till now I was lost, sound-starved by sorrow, Future left quiet by unholy choice.

Her eyes started to get a little misty despite herself, but she kept reading, the beautiful words washing over her. He spoke of gods and fate, songs and rescues. He spoke of her.

You are a lyric, echoing outwards…I was near drowned, and you sang me a rope…

She remembered all too easily the way he'd struggled with Mystra's order. How she had been indignant at the command, even impatient with him for considering it. She thought she had come across as unfeeling, but here she realized otherwise. Her convictions about wanting him to stay alive, to find a better way, had been a lifeline to him.

She blinked away the rest of her few tears to focus on the last lines of the sonnet, feeling her heart swell with love for the man behind her, whose arms were around her even now.

Even in silence, my heart strums along, Tuned to the bard with a soul made of song.

A soul made of song...gods, he was such a romantic.

"Gale," she said, turning to look at him. "When did you write this?"

"Oh, a few days ago," he said, shrugging. "Amazing what a night together with someone you love can do for the creative faculties, don't you think?"

"Don't be so modest," she laughed. She set their journals aside and turned to straddle him, wrapping her arms loosely around his neck. "It was beautiful. You have a gift for poetry, you know."

"I wouldn't say that," he said, though his smile suggested that he was quite proud of her compliments. "I just dabble here and there."

"Shut up and take the compliment, love," she murmured, bringing her lips to his and kissing him so he couldn't quibble about talent anymore. She continued to kiss him, sweet and slow, eventually whispering, "Thank you. I love it. I love you."

"And I love you, my songstress," he murmured in return. He pulled back to smile up at her. "Believe me, this is but the first of many poems I plan to write for and about you."

She laughed. "Watch it, or you'll make this a competition, and it's unwise to compete in a battle of words with a bard."

"If it means reading more of your poetry, then I willingly accept the challenge."

She looked at him with surprise. She had almost forgotten about the poem she wrote ages ago. She wasn't sure she could even remember the words anymore. "So you knew it was from me?"

"Who else could it have been from? Withers?"

She laughed at that and leaned in to kiss him. "You caught me. I'd almost forgotten about that silly poem." She pulled back to look at him again, her linked hands behind his neck keeping her from falling backward. "Will you read it to me? Or read some of your other poems to me?"

"Are you sure that is a wise idea?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. A challenge, not a cautionary statement. "If I recall, your poem, at least, was a little...sensual."

"I don't know what you're talking about, darling," she said, grinning. "I was just writing about a book." He gave her a look that said he didn't believe her for a second but she simply kissed him again, whispering a quiet, "Please? Read for me?"

She felt his amused sigh against her lips. "Very well," he murmured back in between kisses. "I can deny you nothing."

Pleased that he had accepted, she untangled herself from him and resumed her earlier position, laying back against him, her body stretched out between his legs and against his chest, snuggling close for a private poetry reading.

~*~*~

no edits we die like men okay thank you goodbye

[mi-rae07]

Song Mingi : Burning Desire S2 (Part 1/3)

Pairing : Song Mingi (Ateez) and named character (Moon Aeri)

___________________________

Mingi was now standing in front of the sink in his bathroom, his shirt removed as he used one of his hands to press the antiseptic leaves against the small cuts that littered his skin. His eyes were unfocused, however, blankly staring into the mirror. He had never done this before, he'd never loved anyone before. Let alone someone who probably couldn't get herself to love anyone.

Mingi looked up as the door to the bathroom opened, revealing aeri who stared at his cuts before saying

Aeri : is this what you meant by you weren't hurt?

Mingi : it's just small cuts.

Aeri sighed as she walked towards mingi, taking the antiseptic leaves from his hands before pressing it against the cuts. Aeri had seen well built bodies before, san had had a good body. But mingi seemed to be built like a Greek god, and every time her hands pressed against a muscle in his body, aeri felt her heart beat faster.

What the hell was this? She'd done this with san before and it meant nothing, her heart felt nothing. Right now she was doing nothing but touch mingi's skin and she already felt like this.

Mingi : are you going to let me use the army or no?

Aeri : for han?

Mingi : yes.

Aeri : how does han know him, how did he get san to be on his side?

Mingi : they're step siblings.

Aeri : what? Then why did han come with you? Why didn't he stay in his own kingdom?

Mingi : because san threw him away from court, he saw han as a threat.

Aeri : and now? What's changed?

Mingi : the fact that han has leverage over me. He knows things about me that no one else does, he can use that against me and if he wins, san would get the nation. They'll probably divide.

Aeri sighed, keeping the leaves away as she started bandaging the wounds slowly. Mingi felt his muscles tense at every spot that aeri let her fingers graze through, his heart jumping.

Aeri : are you going to go into direct combat?

Mingi : if that is required, then yes.

Aeri : you can't deplete the entire army for that one man, you know that right?

Mingi : I only need a hundred men, your majesty.

Aeri : that's it?

Mingi smiled, looking at aeri as he asked

Mingi : did you not read about me, your majesty? Do you think I rose up from the position of palace cleaner to it's king using 100 men? Beating them is not about man power, it's about using the right tactics. I know han, I can predict his moves pretty well.

Aeri : I don't think you could kill him.

Mingi looked at aeri as she stepped back from bandaging his wounds, keeping the rest away as she said

Aeri : in the moment, when you raise your sword against him for the final blow, the love you had for him is going to come back. You're going to think of all that he did for you, and all that you've done together. And you're going to pause, and that pause, will be han's greatest advantage. Last time it was shock, this time it will be something else.

Mingi : last time I was not working on anyone's command, this time I am.

Aeri : what, my command?

Mingi : no, mine. The command I have given myself to kill whoever or whatever that stands in your way.

Aeri : you had that last time as well, mingi.

Mingi : last time it was out of duty. This time, it will be out of love.

_____________________________

Aeri sat against her garden chair as she had a sip of her coffee, watching mingi walk the new puppy a few distance away from her. It had been recess time after a long day discussing political matters with the ministers, at least it was for mingi. Aeri had kept herself busy doing more snooping into mingi's life, especially after last night.

Aeri had seen the amount of dead men on the floor when she'd reached, and mingi had only minimal scars. How did a palace cleaner learn so much fighting? Who was his teacher?

Aeri kept her tea aside as she walked towards where mingi was throwing a ball away, the puppy running to catch it.

Aeri : are you busy?

Mingi turned around as the dog ran up to them, looking up at mingi with a wagging tail as mingi smiled and lifted the dog up in his arm before scratching it's ears as he said

Mingi : what is it?

Aeri : who taught you to fight?

Mingi : will you answer one of my questions if I answer yours?

Aeri : yes.

Mingi : my mother did, at least for a little while she did. She was the daughter of a knight, that was until he was killed and she was thrown to the streets, of course.

Aeri hadn't expected that, his mother had been that good? She'd even taught him fighting, no wonder he loved his mother so much.

Mingi : now answer my question, what do you know about san?

Aeri rolled her eyes as she said

Aeri : really? His upper body-

Mingi : something that doesn't involve…whatever you were going to say.

Aeri scoffed as she said

Aeri : you'd want to hear this, mingi. His upper right arm is weak, it cannot aim properly and hence it can be used against him at some point. Moreover, he has a child, a daughter, who is hidden from the world.

Mingi frowned as he asked

Mingi : why is a princess hidden?

Aeri : because she is not a princess, she is a bastard. Her mother was a kitchen maid, and when san's father found out that he'd impregnated a lowly kitchen servant he had her killed. Not before she birthed the child, though, but san's father did not know that. And so san kept it a secret, and he continues to until the right time. Exploit her, and you can have him.

Mingi felt a sudden burn in his stomach.

Mingi : you were this close to him, then?

Aeri : this is the only thing I know about his life, mingi. He said this to me accidentally when he was fucking me drunk, crying and all that nonsense. I didn't pay much attention but I suppose it's come to use now.

Mingi stared at aeri as she looked at the dog that was almost asleep in mingi's arms, a contented look on his face. If only aeri could ever have that.

Mingi : have you never loved anyone in your life? Not even your own parents?

Aeri : my parents? The same ones that let their daughter get raped and exploited when she was only a teenager? The same parents who sold her off to some old king for a few dollars? The same parents who did nothing for me?

Mingi : your majesty-

Aeri : no one has ever shown so much as an ounce of kindness for me to love them, mingi.

Except him, but aeri wasn't going to say that. Because that would mean she loved mingi, and there was no way she ever could.

Mingi : but even through all of that, have you…never thought that maybe at some point they did love you-

Aeri : I am not you, I cannot see through people's faults like that. They do something once, they get tainted forever.

Mingi : you do not believe you are capable of love, then?

Aeri : no.

Mingi looked at aeri as he chuckled, looking back at the puppy who was now asleep in his arms as he whispered

Mingi : no human is ever not capable of loving someone. We all have a heart, and so do you.

Aeri : don't talk bullshit.

Mingi : it sounded bullshit to me once too, until I stepped out of the palace and my life to see the outside world. How people co-existed with each other, how they learned to love despite the harshest realities, because we are never taught to love, your majesty. We are only ever taught to hate, love comes natural to us.

Aeri stared at mingi, shocked at his words. She did not think he was someone to say things like this.

Mingi : I know you are capable of love, in fact I am sure of it. And one day you will know that I am right, and when that day arrives, come to me. I will wait.

Aeri : and if that day never comes?

Mingi looked at aeri, a small smile on his face as he said

Mingi : then I will wait until my death, and after it.

______________________________

Aeri looked up as the door to their chambers opened, revealing mingi with a hand held behind his back. Aeri looked back at the mirror as she continued brushing her wet hair that she had just washed, saying to mingi

Aeri : is this the day you're going to kill me?

Mingi stood behind her as he slowly brought his hand around her neck, wrapping a necklace around her bare neck. Aeri stared at the necklace through the mirror in awe, hundreds of huge clear cut sapphire stones decorating her neck as it glowed against the candlelight beautifully.

Aeri had seen many beautiful necklaces in her life but this, this easily outshone them all within a single glance.

Aeri : it's…heavy.

Mingi smiled as he leaned to clasp the necklace behind aeri's neck, his hot breath hitting her skin as aeri clenched her hand against her nightgown fabric.

Mingi : the price for it is heavy too, your majesty.

Aeri : where did you get it from?

Mingi clasped the necklace shut behind aeri's neck as he said

Mingi : India.

Aeri stared at mingi through the mirror as he placed both his hands on her shoulders, staring back at her through the mirror with the same intensity before whispering

Mingi : I thought it'd bring out the color of your eyes.

Aeri sighed as she held the necklace around her neck before saying

Aeri : I don't have anything to give you right now.

Mingi : I didn't give this to you expecting something in return, your majesty.

Aeri frowned, looking at mingi as she asked

Aeri : why would you do that?

Mingi realized aeri would probably have no idea about the art of gifting things to people you love, for her gifts were only something given in order to receive something in return. A polite way of demanding something.

Mingi : it's what men do when they're in love, shower their ladies with all the riches they can.

Aeri : no man I've known has done that.

Mingi chuckled, kissing the top of aeri's head as he said

Mingi : well this one does.

_________________________

4 days later :

Mingi : we have to attack as soon as possible, or their army is only going to increase in number.

Minister : but, sire, with just 100 men are you sure you can beat them?

Mingi : we don't have to beat an entire army, minister, we only have to beat two men, han, and san.

Minister : are you saying we should kill them both?

Mingi : not both, killing san, someone else will take care of. Kang han, I will kill him myself.

Minister : if you don't mind me asking, uh who is going to kill choi san then, your majesty?

Mingi : the empress will.

The minister looked visibly shocked.

Minister : what? Your majesty, that is not going to work. She is only a woman, and san is a soldier. He-

Mingi : a woman can be a soldier too, minister. San has a weakness for women, as we all do, and her majesty will be able to exploit it and kill him within minutes. She will require no soldiers.

Minister : do you trust her to do that job, your majesty?

Mingi : she is my wife, minister, I trust her with everything that I have. And I am sure she will do this much better than we ever could.

Minister : then I will trust your judgement, your majesty. May her majesty be able to save us all.

Mingi looked up as the door to the throne room opened, revealing aeri who looked at mingi and then at the minister who quickly bowed at her. Aeri nodded and said to mingi

Aeri : you called for me?

Mingi : yes, come to me.

Aeri walked to where mingi was sitting on his throne as the minister asked mingi quietly

Minister : does she know of this, your majesty?

Mingi : she will soon. You may leave us, minister.

The minister gave mingi one last bow before walking away, aeri watching the minister step out and close the doors behind him as she climbed up the stairs to mingi's throne before asking

Aeri : have you killed someone?

Mingi : no, but I need you to.

Aeri frowned in confusion as mingi said

Mingi : choi san, you're going to end his life yourself.

Aeri scoffed, mingi must be kidding her.

Aeri : are you stupid? You want someone like me, to kill someone like him? Mingi-

Mingi : only you can kill him someone like him, your majesty. I know san from what han has told me, and even though he may weak in his right arm, he is twice as strong in his left one. He has a weakness for you, and only you can exploit it.

Aeri : we don't have to do that. I told you he has a daughter-

Mingi : I do not want to ruin an innocent girl's life just because of her father's mistakes, your majesty.

Aeri : this is how war works, mingi.

Mingi : I thought you'd understand this best, your majesty. Do you want another girl to suffer the same fate as you?

Aeri stared at mingi as he stood up and said

Mingi : you had your life ruined because of your father's mistakes, did you not? It is because someone who had been in my position chose to do what you are now asking me to do, that you didn't get the life you truly deserved. I may not have been able to save you from it then, but I will not let any girl suffer the fate you did because of the men around her ever again.

Aeri pressed her lips together as mingi held her shoulders, making her sit on his throne as aeri's eyes widened. No woman ever sat on the emperor's throne, the bigger throne.

Aeri : mingi what are you doi-

Aeri cut herself off as mingi took his crown off, kneeling down as he placed it on aeri's head. She clenched her hand as she felt the weight of it on her head, looking down at mingi as he said

Mingi : you feel that weight, your majesty? That weight carries power, and respect. This power that you feel now, you have earned it for yourself, and it is all yours. Your endurance, your wit, your wisdom and your courage, they have made you an empress, your majesty. If you can do that with nothing but your brains, then killing that man will be nothing but a piece of cake for you.

No one had ever said that to aeri, not even herself. Aeri felt a lump form in her throat as mingi smiled at her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as he whispered

Mingi : never let anyone doubt you or who you are, your majesty, not even yourself. You are the empress of the world's most powerful nations, you are a woman who has let no man trample over you and your dignity. You have always held your head high, and I will make sure that you always will for as long as I live.

Aeri : you…you really think I can kill him?

Mingi : I know you can, I trust you with it. You are worth a thousand soldiers, your majesty, killing san will be nothing to you.

Aeri chuckled, holding the emperor's crown as she said

Aeri : the emperor is supposed to be the saving the kingdom, you know?

Mingi smiled, looking at his wife with eyes filled with love and admiration as he whispered

Mingi : well, you're the one wearing his crown anyway. Might as well save the kingdom while you're at it.

Aeri scoffed, looking away as mingi asked

Mingi : so then you agree to it? Killing san, are you fine with it?

Aeri : since you tried so much, getting on your knees and all for all of it, I can't deny it now, can I?

Mingi smiled as aeri said

Aeri : okay but take this crown back now, it's too heavy. It's going to cause my neck to get smaller or something, can't have the wrinkles.

Mingi laughed as he slowly took the crown off of her head, aeri staring at mingi with a small smile on her face.

And for the first time, mingi had seen moon aeri smile. And he vowed to do anything to keep it on her face that instant.

________________________

[rachoka]

Skipping the Pocky

Note: Happy happy late birthday to my dear @inkys-garden, I love you so much!! I'm sorry I'm late again with another gift but I hope you still like it <3 One more Chev fic never hurts hehe.

He figured he'd find her here.

Chevalier smiled to himself. It wasn't often that Ink actively avoided people, especially him, but when she did, he had to give her the credit of being impressively good at it. Her soft pink hair barely stood out from the sea of roses and petunias—and anyone else might mistake her for just another lovely rose in the garden—but she had to hide better than that to escape from Chevalier.

He approached her with his usual, graceful gait, thinking she'd take note of his presence, but walking closer, he understood she was much too endorsed in a book to pay attention to her surroundings. How very like her. In addition, there was a long biscuit stick absently hanging from her lips. Next to her on the bench sat an opened packet of the very same treats, and upon seeing it Chevalier put the pieces of the puzzle together.

“And here I was under the impression I married a selfless woman.”

Ink looked up, startled, to be met with Chevalier’s teasing gaze.

“Instead I find her hiding away with a romance novel and a case of foreign snacks without a word about missing lunch with her husband.”

He could see the words forming in her mind, her golden eyes squinting in thought as she created a believable excuse for her disappearance with practised ease. However, he was pleased to see that she knew better than to think trickery would work on him. Thus, Ink sighed deflatedly, hanging her head. “Not you too, Chev.”

“Hm, what do you mean?” He asked, feigning ignorance.

“Everyone's been begging me for this pocky ever since the delivery came this morning. First Luke and Yves, then Clavis and now you too. This is my last packet.”

Chevalier had thought as much. He'd seen all those pestering brothers of his carrying one as he'd combed through the castle looking for his wife. Out of the four packets of those foreign biscuits Ink had barely managed to get her hands on only one remained after she'd shared them out of the sheer, foolish kindness of her heart. Now, she was here in the gardens, sulking about the consequences of her actions, hiding from anyone who might persuade her to give up her final treats. On any other day this would make a valuable lesson, but right now Chevalier couldn't allow such a frown turn more sour on her beautiful face. She really had turned him soft, but he guessed he'd known this for a while as well.

“Hmph, you really think I'd take away the one thing that you've been talking about for days on end?” He said, inviting himself to sit down next to her.

Ink hummed, lowering the book. “Well, I suppose not.”

“Correct. I am after something far more valuable.”

“Ah, this novel I stole from your personal collection?”

Chevalier didn't bat an eye. “No, you can keep that too.” He placed the book aside, making room to close the gap between them. He loved the surprised look in her eyes, as though he hadn't spelled it out to her in the very beginning. “Do I need to give you a hint?”

Ink nibbled on her biscuit in thought until Chevalier ran out of patience. He took the snack from her and replaced it with his lips. She tasted sweet, like the creamy strawberry coating on the pocky, and he almost couldn't stop himself from wanting more. When he pulled back it was with a lick of his lips.

“Oh.” Ink blinked and she broke into a soft, dangerously infectious fit of giggles. “Oh!”

“I don't see how missing our lunch amuses you,” Chevalier said, still holding her. “You have a lot of catching up to do.”

Ink shook her head, her gaze having regained their warm glint. It was all he could ask for. “I meant that it makes me happy. I didn't think that would be the reason you'd come find me all the way here.”

“I don't care you if you share or keep those treats to yourself, but you'll have to forget about them for now. You know I won't tolerate you hiding away from me.” There were few things in the world Chevalier would let stand between their quality time, and his patience had already been eroded. Nevertheless, there were still pesky but necessary issues to attend to.

He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles gingerly. Then he let their eyes meet. “But first I'll ensure you are seen to a proper meal.”

“But Chev, one more kiss—” Ink whined as he pulled her up from the bench, already heading for the dining hall.

But Chevalier wasn't listening. He was too busy planning how to spend the rest of the day with her without any more interruptions.

[the-wardens-torch]

FFXIVwrite2024: Reticent

Prompt #4, Entry #2

((A long time ago, featuring Fal and his old friend Sunnthota… who ended up pushing him to try arcanima in the future, just the way her father pushed him to try music in the past.))

"You gave up conjury?" Fal blurted, setting his mug of tea down on the table before him and immediately regretting taking such a shocked tone of voice.

"Not as such." Sunnthota fiddled with her spoon, turning it over in her hand. Her pale gray eyes glanced briefly to one side . "Well, yes. I guess I did." she said allowing the spoon to rest against the inside of her cup with a soft clink as she looked back at him.

"I thought you liked being a healer… The only reason I'm still alive after Copperbell is because you were quick enough with your Cure spell to keep everything inside of my skull, eye and all." Fal closed his left eye and ran his index finger gently down his face, tracing the thin ribbon of scar tissue that spanned his face from hairline to eyelid to chin. "And if you're worried about it, this scar is no skin off my nose. Uh, face. In fact, ladies and gentleman both find it very alluring, and I see just as well out of this eye as I did before."

"Yeah, but you were in the infirmary for weeks after that. Our 'light party' broke up and scattered to the 4 winds." Sunnthota's hands balled into loose fists in her lap as her eyes started to mist over.

"Sorry, Sunn… I'm not trying to make light of what happened. Not at all. I've… got my own reasons for wanting to forget that time." he said wistfully. The story of what had happened between him and Alain the last time they'd seen each other was one he still didn't have the nerve to share with anyone.

Sunnthota sighed, dabbing at the corner of one eye with a cloth napkin, careful not to smudge the patterns of blue-green eyeshadow that seemed to get more elaborate every time he saw her and was now threatening to smudge at the touch of an errant tear. She always had a saying about it. When she next spoke, Fal matched her word for word.

"I thought wearing this might force me to learn to stop crying over stupid stuff." they said in unison.

Sunn laughed. "I know I know… I can cry whenever I damn well feel like it and I don't need anyone's permission or anyone's shame." she said, repeating a mantra she'd heard from her father and then again from Fal years later.

"But that's not the point. The point is that yes, I do like being a healer. But… I'd never had a close call quite like that." she set the napkin back down on the table and took another sip of her tea before continuing in a quick cascade of words. "I felt like I had no idea what I was doing. Like nothing was under my control, like the magic was just pure luck. Its not that I don't have faith in the elementals or the land or its aether or any of that other magical spiritual stuff… I just don't want faith to be the first thing I resort to anymore."

"Just look at this." She summoned a small book to her hands with a command word and a snap of her fingers. Despite his lack of experience with magic, he knew a grimoire when he saw one. Though it looked fairly small in her Sea Wolf hands, it was at least three ilms thick and meticulously bound in boar hide and some sort of soft, gray metal. The pages didn't lie straight and even the way they would have if they'd been machine printed.

"I started studying arcanima instead, and it makes so much more sense." she opened the book to a random page.

"Bodies are made up of energy and aether, yes, and that's important to remember. But its not as easy to quantify as… I don't know, the angle between two misaligned broken bones or the velocity of blood through tiny veins in the cornea. I would rather have all of the facts and all of the knowledge and then let faith pick up the rest."

She pushed the tea service aside gently and placed the book on the table, opening it to a random page.

"See?"

On one page a sketch of lightning radiating off in every direction, each branch becoming a smaller and smaller version of itself. On the opposite page, a web of blood vessels following in the same patterns. Both seemed to shimmer slightly like bright fish barely glimpsed in murky water.

"Its gorgeous… Why didn't you become an arcanist first, then?" he asked tentatively.

Sunnthota sighed and paged through the book reverantly. It contained diagram after diagram, some in patterns that echoed and elaborated on the same contours she used when doing her eyeshadow, others that made more comparisons between disparate parts of nature and living bodies, and a wealth of even more complex patterns with precise angles that seemed to radiate magical energy.

"I thought that, well… I could be like my dad." she closed the book sheepishly.

"Well, not just like him. I mean, a free spirit who lived for joy and beauty and song and… all those other things I was never any good at appreciating because I'm always too worried and questioning everything. I thought maybe if I became a conjurer, I could take that joy from the beauty of nature, and that the inner peace would come with it. But it never did. I just… think too much."

"Maybe thinking too much is what you need then." Fal couldn't help but notice that she was smiling in a way he'd never seen when she'd discussed her conjury.

((Abrupt ending and it probably has editing mistakes but I have work in the morning buhhhh.))

[enigmatist17]

Part 1

---

He's so small!

Jorge is the first to blurt out the truth, breaking the momentary spell that had been cast over the older man. He'd only seen the youngest Madrigal from behind the walls, the only one who had never seen their tío Bruno before his self-imposed exile. Bruno had knelt beside the wall of Pepa's room during the entire twelve hours of labor and delivery, only sagging in relief when he heard the cries of his newborn nephew the moment he entered the world. Hernando had left a small carving of a tiger for Antonio when he'd turned two years old in the nursery, pausing for a moment to take in both nephew and niece sleeping before quietly disappearing behind the walls once again.

"Our family needs help.....and you need to get outta here." Bruno flinched at the gentle hand over his, but at the pleading looks from both Mirabel and Antonio, who was he to say no? Avoiding the jaguar that Bruno hoped desperately was docile, he led the younger family members up and out of the walls, the growing storm around Casita masking their noise from the shouting from below. Hernando had to gently nudge Bruno to keep walking when he was close to taking a peek over the railing, wanting to see his sisters for the first time in so long.

"I was thinking of my daughter!" Ah Agustín, Bruno felt his heart swell for a moment as he scurried after the younger family members, only having a moment to do his knocks on Antonio's door before hurrying inside. The massive tree with its surrounding lake and waterfall took his breath away for a moment, the vibrant flora nearly overwhelming after so long in the dark.

"Are you okay, tío?" Little Antonio had doubled back when he realized Bruno had stopped walking, the jaguar thankfully resting out of sight.

"It's a very nice room." The five-year-old seems only amused as Bruno begins walking again, a little hand taking his after a few steps. Despite his anxiety, Bruno smiles at his little nephew, allowing himself to be led to the platform he needs for his vision.

You've got this amigo

"Glad someone thinks so..." Bruno mumbled as he eyed the bucket of sand Antonio had some of his animal friends fetch from his room, taking a deep breath before grabbing the handle.

"We might wanna hurry." Mirabel fidgets as he circles her, staring at an unmoving capybara before simply going around the animal with a shrug.

"You can't hurry the future." He couldn't help but remember when she'd first seen his powers all those years ago, eyes wide as her tío predicted how her mamá would repair her stuffed animal. "What if I show you something worse? If I see something that you don't like, you're gonna be all, "Bruno makes bad things happen. Oh, he's creepy and his vision killed my goldfish!"

A vision killed a goldfish? Eh?

Stupid woman, can't believe she's still upset.

It took biting down on his cheek for Bruno not to laugh as he piled dried leaves in the middle of four small sand circles, hands trembling as Mirabel gave him a look the seer couldn't place.

"I don't think you make bad things happen. Sometimes...family weirdos just get a bad rap."

....what?

For a single moment, Bruno just stared at Mirabel, ears ringing with the words he'd wanted to hear for so long since he had touched his door the first time.

You don't make bad things happen

Bruno had wanted to hear those words from Mamá, from the villagers he did his best to help, from anyone aside from the two he considered brothers. However, he was little Mirabel, looking at him with a smile that was brighter than the sun as far as he was concerned, and whatever hesitations were left faded as it turned to resolve.

"You can do this." She's smiling as a little stuffed tiger is held out, turning to face Antonio as he takes in the weight and soft fabric.

"For the nerves." The little tiger is set aside as Bruno takes a deep breath, the world beginning to tint green as Bruno tosses some salt over his shoulder for luck. His body thrums with power as Bruno opens himself to time itself, opening glowing green eyes as he draws forth the last vision he'd done those ten years ago only to see the same thing. Yet, just as he wants to stop and fall back to let one of the others come forward, Mirabel sees something different, a shining beacon that he hoped desperately led to the answer of saving the miracle.

Her anger at hugging Isabela is...less than favorable, but it could be salvaged!

However, less than twenty minutes later, the worst comes to pass. Bruno can faintly hear the yelling before Casita finally begins to crumble, grabbing rats as he races to find his way out. Jorge slips into control when Bruno falters at some cracks in the floor, cursing under his breath as the house falls around them. He eyes a weakness in one of the outer walls that seemed to come from nowhere, and in a moment of brilliance that would lead to pain later, Jorge grabs his bucket and slips it on before ramming through the wall with a yelp.

The home they'd ever known falls to rubble, and all of them can hear when Julieta starts screaming for her daughter.

We have to find her

The mountain, it's where she will have gone

Hernando flips his hood up as he eyes the newly cracked mountain, hiding Jorge's bucket before limping off for the nearest horse. Sure, it's not the best to steal from an unaware farmer, but Hernando swears they'll return the beast as they head for the opening, clinging to the reigns. The river that comes into view a while later is dazzling, the last of a massive trail of yellow butterflies lining the sky as Hernando makes for the water, able to see Mirabel's curly hair next to...Mamá.

"She didn't so this!" Bruno yells as they burst into full view, heart going a thousand miles an hour as he stares down his mamá for the first time in ten years. "She didn't do this! I gave her a vision!" Bruno's dismount is abysmal, but the seer is more focused on directing whatever anger his mother could be holding at himself. "She only wanted to help. I don't care what you think of me, but if you're too stubborn to -" All of the anger Bruno had been venting was cut off when achingly familiar arms embraced him, the smell of his mamá's perfume making his knees wobble.

"Brunito.."

"....I feel like I missed something important..." He's as stiff as a board when Mirabel walks by, and the older woman pulls away to gaze at her son, taking his face into her hands with a soft smile and pressing a small kiss to his cheek. Bruno still can't speak as she takes his hand still frozen up in the air, leading her wayward son back to the horse as if guiding him back home like she'd done when he was a child. He clings to her as they gallop back toward the remains of Casita, letting go when they come to a stop to help her down as Mirabel runs for her mother. He can hear Julieta cry out in relief as he helps his mother down, the horse flicking its head before wandering back towards its proper stable, and Bruno moves to head for the treeline.

"Brunito, stay, please." His hand is taken once again, and Bruno doesn't know what to do or say as he's slowly led towards the house and the family. She lets go to head inside the home, and Bruno fidgets as he peeks around one of the last bits of wall still standing to see Pepa and Julieta embrace their mother, clearly relieved. She pulls back and motions for him without even turning, and despite his fear, Bruno steps into the figurative light to face his sisters, who are wide-eyed as he takes his mother's waiting hand. They're rushing forward to hug him moments later, however, and both Jorge and Hernando can feel Bruno's joy as he hugs them, rambling about how he'd never meant to ruin Pepa's wedding and that he didn't mean to become a menace. The rambling trails off when he's hugged again, the triplets watching as the townspeople head for Casita, ready to rebuild the home of those who protected their town and lives.

You're never letting them go today, are you?

Of course he isn't!

Bruno smiles as he hears them comment on the town beginning the rebuilding process, both arms hugging his sisters close at the general feeling of positivity in the air.

---

The townsfolk were more than happy to offer the Madrigal family their homes until theirs was complete, and the children were delighted to spend some time with friends after the admittedly stressful day. Alma was housed by one of her council members, feigning attention as the other adults tried to decide who to stay with when she noted an absence that had been ignored for too long.

"Where is Bruno?"

A brief but panicked search finds the man back at the worksite, strangely wearing a bucket on his head as he mixes some spackle without a care in the world.

"This last section, then we go to sleep." Bruno speaks with a strange voice, and Félix and Camlio watch from just out of sight while sharing a confused look. "Bruno is exhausted."

"Si si, last one." A deeper voice replies, and once the mixture is complete, Bruno finishes up a wall that had nearly been finished before the elders called it a day. "Um, where will we sleep? Casita is gone."

"Eh, the church?" Bruno pauses his work, and Félix creeps closer with his son as they hear a sigh.

"Bruno won't like it. We can sleep in a tree or something, " the first voice grumbled, and the work continued until Félix finally decided to announce his arrival, sneaking back towards the main road before clapping his hands together.

"Eh, Bruno, you gave us a scare!" He loudly announced his presence, watching as the bucket was quickly removed, and Bruno smiled awkwardly. "You nearly scared everyone to death."

"S-Sorry, I wanted to finish this." Camilo squints at Bruno's normal voice, but remains silent as his father places a hand on Bruno's arm, guiding him away from the wall.

"There is always tomorrow my friend, for now you need a good meal and a place to lay your head."

"I-I can find somewhere to sleep; don't worry about me." Bruno stammered, Camilo putting an arm around his tío's shoulders to force him down and toward town, only grinning at the slightly annoyed look sent his way.

"You can stay with mamá, she was about to make her powers come back through sheer willpower when we didn't see you."

"W-What?" That seemed to stump his tío, the man silent as they walked to the family, all of them clearly happy to see Bruno was fine when he came into view.

"Don't you EVER do that again!" Pepa seethed, the first to march over and give him a strangling hug. "You don't get to slip away, not anymore!"

"I promise I won't again." He froze up but slowly hugged her back as Antonio came from nowhere to hug one of his legs, mirroring the look on his mother's face. He smiled and moved one pinned arm to pat the top of his head, yelping when Pepa stepped back and grabbed his ruana with one hand, the other on her hip.

"You will stay with me and Félix, understand?"

"Si."

Eh, what is he to do?

The household that had volunteered to house Pepa, Félix, and their son were a bit on edge at seeing Bruno traipsing in behind them but made sure they all were fed and given temporary beds. Bruno had barely eaten despite gentle urging from his sister, just shrugging off her question and feeding little bits to the few rats hidden in his ruana before finding the darkest corner to curl up in. Despite his internal clock telling his body to stay awake for what was "his" average time to be awake, the last 24 hours had been exhausting, and he can feel his eyes slipping shut in exhaustion.

"Can I sleep with you?" The whisper stirred Bruno, and he smiled at seeing Antonio standing beside him, pillow and blanket in each arm.

"Of course you can." Félix finds the two fast asleep when he finds Antonio's bed empty, his son tucked securely in Bruno's arms, completely at ease with someone he didn't know about until yesterday.

"They look so sweet." Pepa whispered as she hugged her husband from behind, teary-eyed at the lost years. "Oh mi pequeño gusano..."

"Which one?" Félix chuckled, trailing off with a slight frown. "My love, can I ask you something?" The little squeeze she gave him was answer enough, and Félix takes a moment to figure out where to begin. "Is...does Bruno act a lot? Do voices, speak in third person much?" Whatever he's stumbled on makes Pepa stiffen behind him, and he merely waits for her reply.

"What did you hear?"