#At any rate I think he's forgetting the time I was read a collection of Russian fairy tales (???) or maybe he still would've been surprised

[valiantarcher]

Shocked and scandalised a coworker by admitting I read something as common and vulgar as a murder mystery.

[daengtokki]

𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝐼 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹

© ᴏʟʙᴀᴘᴀɪɴᴛɪɴɢꜱ

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Kim Seungmin/noona reader

wc: 5.9k

rating: angst/mature/18+ ಇ (idiots trying to get to lovers/mutual pining)

contains: drinking/drunkiness, implied mental illness, medication mention, weight mention

comments: Part two of this noona fic request. Not sure how much interest there is in this (there's more, because I love writing it and I needed some angst), but let me know if you guys like it!

songs to listen to while reading: orion sun - intro // chloe george - when does it get good

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Seungmin feels around in the dark, and he knows at any moment, he’s going to trip. The layout of your apartment is still foreign to him, but he likes it here, and he wants to get used to being here. It’s a welcome change from the dorm—there it's usually a mess. It smells, it tends to get loud at the worst moments, and the worst part of all is that you’re not there. Ever.

He’s a bit embarrassed of the place, even though his room is usually clean and ready for company. It’s better here, though. It’s always quiet, and warm, and it smells like vanilla and coffee, even now, in the middle of the night.

As much as he wanted to keep things between the two of you, for now, it did not work. Seungmin came home very late the night after he confessed (and you confessed), so it was easy for everyone to figure out. Still, though, he hasn’t talked much about it in the three days since. And now, somehow, he’s ended up at your apartment, and it’s well past midnight.

You fell asleep on the couch watching a movie, tucked against his side, and he shook you awake eventually.

“Time to get to bed, yeah?” He said, and he gave you a few more minutes to collect yourself before helping you up. Then he guided you into the bedroom, but he just stood there at the door for a moment, watching, waiting until you turned to him and smiled.

“Goodnight”

“You’re leaving?” You check the time on your phone. It's late.

“Yeah, I should go,” his heartbeat picks up a little as he casually looks around your room. This is his first time seeing it., and Seungmin thinks to himself how very you it is—the colors, the mix of adult and not-so-adult, pages from magazines and photobooks pinned to a corkboard next to very important looking things. He sees his face pinned there as well; a closeup of him, ripped neatly from the Noeasy photobook. No, two photos of him...three.

“Okay. You don’t have to, but…” you think, look around, look back at him, “text me when you get home, okay?”

“I will”

He clicks the hall light off as he makes his way toward the door, and with the glow of the tv gone, it’s suddenly very, very dark. The light of his phone helps, but he hits his foot on the coffee table, of course, and then he finally grabs his bag. Luckily it takes him a few extra minutes to fight into his shoes, because a text comes through just as he goes for the door.

don’t leave yet

Seungmin looks toward your bedroom door and waits. One, two, three seconds. It swings open, and you leave it there so the light pours out and illuminates him.

“Did I forget something?”

You stop in front of him and nod, “I did,” and grab the front of his shirt to pull him down. You kiss, and he kisses right back. And then you let go. “Can I ask what’s in your backpack?”

“Huh? My…oh my bag. Just my usual stuff, uhm, it’s silly. Sometimes I feel like I’ll be pulled away when I have no time to pack, so I always carry something with me.”

“So that's your overnight bag?”

“I guess. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea...if it’s the wrong idea. I wasn’t expecting something to happen, I promise.”

“Seungmin, it’s okay. I just came out to kiss you goodnight, not question your motives.” You pull him to you again and kiss. “And you’re welcome to spend the night—on the couch, or in my bed. Preferably in my bed. But wherever you’re comfortable.”

His laugh is so nervous, and he hates it, “maybe next time?”

“Of course. I’m leaving for a while tomorrow, but I’ll let you know when I get home.”

“Will you be gone long?”

“No, a week at the most”

“A week. Okay, that’s not bad. If I’m home when you get back., we can do something.”

“Right, you might not be here”

You stare at each other silently, maybe hoping to read each other’s mind. You might not see him for a while and that was hard enough when you were just friends, pining endlessly. Now you’ve touched him and kissed him, and you need more time to do those things.

“I might be, though”

“Goodnight, Minnie”

This time he kisses you himself.

─ ⋅⋅ ─

“I’m not surprised…but at the same time I’m a little surprised,” Felix scratches his head. He’s watching Seungmin cross the kitchen to fill his glass with water.

He doesn’t notice everyone staring at him until he turns toward the coffee maker. “What?”

“Surprised why?” Minho cups his chin in his hand and smiles at both of them.

“How was your date last night, kid?”

"Date?" Minho jumps and grins at Seungmin.

“We just watched a movie, it was good. She’s leaving today so I won’t see her for a while.”

“Oh no, that’s no good. So—“

“What are you surprised about?!” Minho slap his palm on the table, “Yongbok!”

“I’m getting there!”

“You’ve never been to her place before, right? What brought that on…a movie at her apartment?”

Seungmin is making his coffee, patiently, and looking at his roommate as he takes his time getting to the point. But Felix waits as he makes his way to the table with them to press on.

“You never really told us what happened the other night. You two just disappeared.”

“Oh, we went to her place, so we could be alone…”

The three of them OH in unison, because Jeongin turns the corner just in time. Minho is still confused, and nobody seems to want to elaborate for him. All four of them here at the same doesn’t happen often, so Seungmin is feeling a little crowded

“…to talk.”

“Ooh,” Jeongin smiles, “and? Did you talk last night, too?”

“Not much, no”

Their eyes grow as they wait for more, but now Seungmin is having too much fun stringing them a long.

“Please continue”

“There’s nothing else,” he shrugs, “we drank a little, watched a movie, we both dozed off for a while, I think…no,” Seungmin throws a hand up when Felix' mouth turns up into a smirk. “It was a long movie, nothing else happened.”

“Did you kiss?” Jeongin leans closer and whispers, “you kissed, yeah?”

Seungmin can’t help but smile when he asks. He can feel his face grow warm just thinking about it. Last night, and then your first kiss. That one got much heavier than he expected, and he loved every second—the touching, your tongue, your fingers running through his hair. He doesn’t want to wait a week for more, but he’s not going to chase after you now. He has to be patient, again.

“You should have spent the night"

─ ⋅⋅ ─

You sit across from each other in the cafeteria, just like you’ve done a dozen times before. It’s not busy, not even at lunchtime, but looking up at him for too long is making your heart race. It’s not that you’re afraid someone will walk by and read your mind (but if they did, they might be disgusted), it just feels different being with him in public now.

It feels like you’re both doing something a little bit wrong.

Seungmin is a young idol, and he’s sweet and kind and innocent, as far as everyone knows. You’ve already seen his unfiltered self, and it’s better than any act he’s had to put on. But he is still sweet and kind and…you assume a little innocent. You’ve never talked about your sex lives, ever.

You look up at him and lock eyes. He smiles, and you can’t help but start undressing him. Yes, you’ve touched him, finally. His thigh—he let you run your hand from his knee and up you went until you knew it was time to stop—his neck, his shoulder, his face…but there’s still so much of him to touch and see. The part of your mind that you can't keep quiet is afraid there won't be many more oppurtunities.

You have to close your eyes and relax.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, just thinking. Over-thinking.”

He smiles again, and you start to wonder if he’s doing it because he’s nervous.

“About us?”

Us? That’s a much bigger word than it was a few days ago. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Good things?”

Good things, yes. As long as you stay focused, there's nothing to think about when it comes to him except for good things. “Yeah, of course.”

“How is your lunch? Spicy enough?”

“Is my face red?”

“A little, yes”

“No spice today, so it’s you doing that.”

─ ⋅⋅ ─

What if he stays too late tonight, again? He doesn’t want to run off at the first mention of spending the night, because he wants to stay here with you. There was no expectation of it when you asked last time, he assumes, because he can sleep wherever he wants; he can do whatever he wants. And you wouldn’t pressure him anyway. He knows you better than that.

He knows nothing about your sex life, though. And almost nothing about your dating life.

Seungmin doesn’t really know much about either of those things when it comes to himself, actually. There was never much time to date, or it was low on the list. And having sex without at least dating someone doesn’t sit well with him.

But he has been on dates, and he has kissed, and touched, and he’s been touched right back. But that’s all. No sex—that blowjob didn’t count—it was awkward, and it wasn’t very good. And as hard as he tries, he can't forget his first time trying to find a clit.

“Do you want a drink?” You shake his arm until he finally seems to hear you, “drink…beer, coke, coffee?”

“Soju?”

“I have strawberry and peach”

“Strawberry somaek?”

You disappear into the fridge and dig around, and Seungmin watches carefully when you bend forward. He’s always admired your body, though it never had much to do with him liking you the way he did. But now, he feels like it’s okay to appreciate it more. You’re shorter than him, and curvier (which doesn’t take much, seeing as how Seungmin is basically a straight line). Your ass and thighs are an eyeful for him, though.

Everything looks soft. Everything is soft, because he did sneak his hand there that first night. He squeezed his fingers right above your knee, then moved up ever so slightly to get some thigh. He didn’t dare go any further, though.

The touching you did the second time was much more innocent—holding hands, fingers laced together, your head against his shoulder as you fell asleep. He looked you over carefully, but kept his hands to himself, only daring to run a thumb over your wrist as you dozed off.

“Would you like to pour, or do you trust me?”

Seungmin snaps out of it. He’s pretty sure you caught him staring. “I trust you.”

“Can you grab the glasses for me?”

He does, and he follows you back to the living room and makes himself comfortable at the coffee table. And now that he’s started, he can’t take his eyes off of you as you move.

“That’s…oh okay we have different pours,” Seungmin eyes the glass, but you pull it toward yourself. “That’s much more soju than I usually do.”

You pour his now, but only fill the glass a third of the way before topping it off with the beer.

“I thought maybe you were trying to soften me up.” His breath catches in his chest when he says it, because it sounded much more stupid than it did in his head.

“No, trying to soften myself up, actually.”

“Why? You can’t get drunk without me,” the frown he gives you is over the top and very cute. “I don’t want you to fall asleep too early.”

“I’ll be careful”

─ ⋅⋅ ─

Seungmin feels good after two glasses. It’s not much, but he hasn’t eaten recently, and he’s pretty certain his second drink was identical to yours.

You’re halfway through your third.

“These are too easy to drink.” You sit at the table with a dish of mandu and dakgangjeong. “And I’m guessing you’re hungry.”

“I usually am.” He leans forward and smells the chicken, “did you make all this.

You shake your head, “I’m not the best at cooking. I wish I had more time to practice.”

“That’s okay. Thank you for feeding me, and getting me tipsy.” He grabs a piece of chicken and pops it in his mouth. And then a dumpling. And then finishes off his third somaek.

“You can’t be tipsy yet”

“I will be if I have another”

Seungmin does have another. And the for his next drink, he switches to straight beer—but he’s drunk. He picks up his chopsticks and grabs for a dumpling, but it slips off and bounces onto the table.

Both of you just stare at for a long moment. And then Seungmin giggles as he tries again. This time it makes it to his mouth.

“Where you going?”

He’s slowly getting to his feet, and he stands for a minutes to get his head straight.

“Bathroom”

“Good idea”

“Are you joining me?”

You stop halfway onto your feet and look up at him, his hand is outstretched like he’s welcoming the company, “ah…you first.”

It’s very obvious he had a bit too much. And you did, too, but you’re working hard to keep yourself together. When you walk back out from the bathroom, Seungmin is standing up, staring at the tv, and the rest of the chicken is making its way into his mouth. He looks comfortable and satisfied—drunk, yes…but happy.

It makes you warm up even more, and you can’t remember the last time you felt so good.

“Hey”

“Hi…hello, do you feel better? Do you want the last few pieces?” He holds some out to you, but it disappears into his mouth as soon as you shake your head. “We should sober up.”

Yes, you should. You sit on the couch and curl yourself up into a ball, but when he sits next to you, your limbs develop a mind of their own. Before you can stop yourself, you slide your arms around his waist and hold yourself tight against him. Your leg drapes over his lap, and you’re practically straddling his thighs. He takes it in stride, though. Seungmin holds you right back and takes the opportunity to slide a hand across your hip, and when he squeezes, you jump.

“Sorry”

“Mm mm, no…it’s good. Feels good.”

“It does?”

“Yeah, you’re so warm”

“I think that’s the alcohol”

“Maybe…maybe, but you always—“ you stop and start to giggle, and you shove your face into his shirt to try to stifle yourself.

“Always what?”

You shake your head against him, push harder against his chest, take in his scent…feel yourself becoming even more drunk. “Nothing.”

His hand slides back up and settles on your hip, “always something good, hopefully.”

“Sorry, my head is swimming.”

“Mine too”

“I was hoping the alcohol would help, but you’re making me so nervous.”

“You’re nervous? I’m making you nervous?”

“Yeah, maybe telling you will make it go away."

“I’m also nervous. I wasn’t the last time I was here…so maybe the drinks are working against us.”

You force yourself to look up at him, and he looks down at you with big, heavy eyes. Your gaze drops and takes in every bit of him—his cheeks, his nose, his lips…his lips. He wets them and a smile pulls at his mouth, and you desperately want him to lean down closer to you. Every part of you is screaming for him, but you’re still frozen.

He’s frozen, too. The booze just made both of you stupid.

“Seungmin?” You’ve never, not even as a teenager, felt so stupidly in love with someone.

“Yeah?”

The longer you watch him, the closer he seems to get, and you see every little detail, every little spot, every little perfect blemish and pore on his skin.

“Kiss me before I explode”

His lips press into yours and his fingers squeeze so hard again. You want him to hold you tighter still, and you need to be closer. He does. Seungmin moves you until you’re on his lap, and he devours you. He’s all tongue, and it’s wet and messy, not like his previous kisses, but it’s so good tasting him, and tasting the entire night on him.

Then he stops suddenly to catch his breath, but he stays there and bites down lightly on your bottom lip. Your eyes open, and he’s right there, staring. He pulls back, looks at the space between your thighs, and there’s not much there. If you let yourself relax a little more, you’d feel his dick growing in his sweatpants.

But you can see it. You’re no longer frozen, so you shake the thought of what’s between his legs out of your head, for now. Both of you are way too fucked up for the first time. What you do need to do is kiss him again, so you take over, squeeze his shoulders and hold him steady while you lick across his parted lips. Seungmin opens up for you and he moans into the kiss—moans right down your throat.

You shake your head, “we should stop until we’re, um…I don’t wanna do this drunk.”

“I don’t either,” he keeps kissing, but slows down and softens his touch. His hands move to your waist, and then your back, where they stay.

“But don’t leave tonight”

“I won’t”

─ ⋅⋅ ─

Seungmin watches you from his side of your bed. He did fall asleep for a while, but he woke from a dream and forgot for a few moments where he was. His racing heart beat against the mattress as he looked toward you, facing away from him, shirt pulled halfway up your back. You kicked the covers off in your sleep—probably too warm from sobering up, but so deeply asleep. Still, he reaches out and runs two fingers down the skin that’s peeking out.

You move ever so slightly, and mumble something. He looks at the time: just after 4am. You’ve been asleep for about three hours, because both of you were out as soon as you hit the bed.

But Seungmin feels better. Less drunk, at least. His head aches a little, but not enough to bother him. He reaches out again, but this time he pulls at your shirt until you’re covered.

“Minnie”

“I’m up, you feel okay?”

You mumble again, and groan, but you don’t answer.

“Minnie…hmmm, don’t leave”

“Hey,” he crawls closer and runs a hand down your arm, “hey, oh you’re still asleep.”

You wake up when you feel his lips on your shoulder. “Min?”

“Are you up or talking in your sleep?”

“I’m up…oh no, what did I say?” You turn onto your back and grab his hand. “I don’t do that all the time.”

“Just my name”

“Oh”

“And you told me not to leave,” he squeezes your hand and searches for the soberness in your eyes, “I’m still here.”

“Sorry, I don’t usually speak so clearly”

The sleep-talking doesn’t phase him. In fact, the quietness of the room is a welcome change to his typical nights. The whole night, drunk as you both were, was quiet and calm. “Were you thinking about me in your sleep?”

“I must have been,” you move his hair away from his eyes, and now you’re searching for any leftover drunkenness. He seems wide awake and sober.

“It’s 4 in the morning, if you’re still tired…we can go back to sleep.” That’s not what he wants, but he also wants what you want. Seungmin figured you’d get into bed and both of you would sleep soundly until morning. But he woke up.

“No, I feel good. And you look good.”

The truth is, you are very tired. If you close your eyes right now, you have no doubt that you would fall back to sleep almost immediately. Instead you rip off the rest of the blanket and sit up.

“Where are you going?”

He watches you stand slowly, carefully, just in case. But your legs work just fine. Maybe Seungmin can change that. The thought sends a little wave a pleasure through you, and you smile when you turn to look at him, “bathroom.”

That is what you do, but you dig through the drawer under the sink as well. You didnt prepare properly, because you didn’t double check to see if you still had condoms, and if they were still good.

“Oh good,” you grab the half used pack and look closely at the date stamped on the bottom, "lucky.” But you make the mistake of looking at yourself in the mirror, and your reflection feels like it's a mile away. Your eyes blur, and the room spins for a moment.

A perfectly timed knock on the door makes you jump, and the box slips from your hand.

“Are you okay? I gotta go, too.”

“Yeah, Minnie, I’m coming,” you pick them up and palm them as you head for the door, “sorry, go ahead.”

-

Seungmin whistles as he returns and quietly shuts the door, “so are you…out?” He holds up the empty box and shakes it. “You left the drawer open.”

“Oh, no no,” you grab the condoms from your bedside table and show them to him, “we have two.”

He pulls one from your fingers and examines it for a moment, “I don’t think these will fit.”

─ ⋅⋅ ─

It’s stupid, and it’s reckless, and you know it. But it’s not going to stop you. From the moment he said the condoms—the only condoms either of you had, wouldn’t work, you tossed it back onto the table, looked up at him, “okay,” and grabbed the waistband of his sweatpants until he was right in your face.

“Okay” He sets his down, too. “Are you…” he groans when you find a good spot on his stomach, and he laughs when you graze your lips across his skin.

Every time you get back to his belly button, you tug a little more. His sweatpants start to tent, and you’re starting to feel exactly how much he wouldn’t fit into those condoms. One more tug, and you can see him—the stiff base of his cock, held still by the grip of your fingers.

He’s so hot against the fabric, and a wet spot of pre-cum starts to come through as you stroke him.

“I’m not surprised you like to tease,” he smiles down at you, but he’s blushing…everywhere. His cheeks, his ears, his neck. When he pulls his shirt over his head, he’s flushed all the way down to where your lips are.

Seungmin is just as lean under all those clothes as you imagined, and his shoulders…

“Turn around”

“Huh…turn?”

You stand and grab his hips, “yeah, turn around for me.”

He listens and peeks back at you the best he can—until your hands move from his hips, slowly upward, touching every bit of skin you can—across his shoulder blades, back down his spine.

The sigh he lets out is so content and relaxed, it actually puts you more at ease. He laughs sweetly when your lips touch him. “I like your teasing.”

Seungmin turns back to face you, and your fingers slide across him as he moves.

“Just admiring you." Yes, you are admiring him. Touching him, finally, is doing more for you than anything else possibly could. But every step forward now is taking all of your energy.

“Admiring? Me?” He cups your cheek and lifts until you’re looking at him, then pulls you close.

It’s sweet and it’s perfect, and you melt into him, but now you’re so distracted by his dick pressing against you. You push your hips in until he groans, slide your hands under his waistband.

Seungmin grabs back, and squeezes your ass. “Let me see you.” He pulls your shirt up and over your head before you can react, but you fold your arms over yourself before pressing back into him.

“Ah…I’m sorry, too fast?” His hands keep you against him. He holds so tight, you couldn’t escape even if you wanted to. “I should have let you do that.”

“No, I just—“

“I didn’t think you’d be shy”

A shiver runs through you when his hands move down your back, then back up.

“How about we…” he scoots closer to the lamp, keeping hold of you, and clicks it off. “Is that better?”

“Maybe,” you laugh, but it’s hesitant, a little edgy. “You’re too perfect, Minnie and…ah, I don’t know what's going on, I’m nothing special.”

“No, you're very special. What’s the matter?”

You relax a a little in his arms.

“I’m not perfect, not even close. You haven’t seen me after rolling out of bed at noon, or grumpy when my mouth hurts after getting these things tightened.”

You whine his name. You’re ruining the moment. Him comforting your sudden stupid thoughts and doubts—he’s probably already getting soft. “I’m sorry, I’m making a mess of everything. I'm not sure what happened.”

“Mm, no…you haven’t made a mess of anything.” Seungmin grabs your shirt from the edge of the bed and slips it back on you, “it's okay, we can get back under the covers if you’d like.”

─ ⋅⋅ ─

“Give me your hand”

Seungmin holds it up to you, then sets it in yours.

Back under the covers is where you end up, and you really do feel like a tease now. Poor Seungmin—his dick doesn’t know what’s going to happen next, but right now, you know he’s definitely not hard. You've ruined that.

“You think I’m perfect…can I think you’re perfect?” he lets go of your hand and runs his up your arm.

“No, I’m a mess. My skin, my hair is a mess. I’m getting chubby because I never watch what I eat. I don’t know why you’re here.”

“Because I want to be here. Because you brought me here and made me feel like I was yours."

“I was so high off of your words before. I thought I was dreaming when we were talking after dance practice.”

Seungmin moves closer, and now you’re sharing a pillow, and you breathe in every sigh he breathes out. His hand is moving so slowly over you, and he’s being so patient as it finds the curve of your hip and slides under the bottom of your shirt. “You’re not a mess.” He’s touching you and kneading his fingers into your side. Into your back. He works his way up and drags his fingertips up to your throat. “And they weren’t just words.”

How could you possibly deny him, looking at you like this? You shouldn’t, but your brain is telling you it will never work; it’s a waste of time. He’s going to really see you, and change his mind—he’ll find out how bad you are at this, and how emotional and unbearable you get when you do. It’s too much for him.

Still, his touch is as soft as his eyes, and he moves even closer until his leg can slide over yours.

“No, I don’t deserve you”

He isn’t sure how to reply to that, so he just stares. Maybe he’s waiting for you to crack a smile, or laugh it off, but you don’t. “Why would you say that?”

“You can do so much better than me, I promise.” You get as far as sitting yourself up, and your head pounds against your eyes. The alcohol is catching up to you and turning into a hangover already. “I shouldn’t have let it get this far, I’ve been stupid.”

“What are you saying?” Seungmin grabs your arm as you shift to get out of bed. His head is pounding now, too, because he's trying to figure out what went wrong and where he fucked up. “I can go if that’s really what you want, but give me a minute.”

You struggle with a response. You don’t want him to leave, but he should. And if he does, it might be the end of something that didn’t even begin. “A minute…for what?”

“To say something”

“Right, I’m sorry”

“I meant everything I said before, even if I didn’t say much. But you knew what I was thinking.” He lets go of your arm, because you seem to have relaxed. You’ve settled back in your spot, under the covers, back against the pillows. “I want you, and you want me…I think. And I need you around, I know that much. If I leave, will we go back to how we were before?”

There’s a long silence. You’re not sure if he wants an answer to that, but you don’t want to think too hard about it. Maybe, eventually, the memory of this can pass and you can be friends again.

“I don't want to go back to that. Not after this,” he answers himself. “So…”

Seungmin throws the covers off of himself, puts his feet on the cold floor, and then waits a few seconds before standing. It takes a moment to find his shirt, but he does and throws it on, and the entire time you watch him so intensely. But you stay quiet.

He knows you’re watching, and he takes his time, hoping you’ll stop him as he goes for the door. But you don’t.

And he anxiously waits for his phone to buzz after he grabs it from the coffee table. The empty bottles and glasses—the mess from the food scattered everywhere—Seungmin stares at it, waiting for a text that won’t come, and he decides he won’t leave yet. Instead he starts to clean.

─ ⋅⋅ ─

You’re stuck in your spot on the bed, phone now in hand, and you stare at the messages you’ve shared over the last week—to prove yourself wrong, maybe. Or just to make yourself feel worse. You couldn’t possibly feel any worse right now, though. Seungmin is still here; his scent lingers, and the feeling of his touch. But he left. You kicked him out, and deep down, you know you don’t want to subject him to whatever the future might hold. This isn’t possible, and thinking it could be was both of you just being struck dumb with lust. And maybe love.

You’ll be back tomorrow morning, right? I get my days mixed up sometimes, especially when I’m home for a while. Do you get like that? Maybe my memory is going already, haha I’ll be around if you’re free, so I hope you are. I can’t wait to see you again.

Seungmin is a good texter. He’s thoughtful and sincere, and he seems to choose his words carefully, as if he’s speaking to you face to face. That, or he just closes his eyes and types everything he feels. That wouldn’t surprise you.

I hope texting you so soon isn’t weird. No, it’s you! It’s not weird, or if it is that makes it normal for us. I hope you feel as good as I do. Good night ♥️

You pull the covers up to your chin and try to get comfortable. But you can’t take your eyes off the string of messages.

I practiced your song today! It might take a little more work to get it to sound good with my vocals. Maybe I need your input. But I’d rather surprise you!

He’s probably been working on it all week, and here you almost forgot about it. Before he sent this text, you didn’t know if he was serious, or it was just his opening line.

The sound of glasses clinking together echoes into the bedroom, and your heart pounds wildly. Then the pounding in your head starts up again, and for some reason you choose now to start crying. The tears start to brim, and you try desperately to keep them from going any further.

The sound of water running gets you out of bed fast, and you walk slowly to the bedroom door. You can see the kitchen light on through the crack, and the shadow of movement is there, too. His backpack is untouched at the end of the couch, and when you walk out to the hallway, you see his shoes next to yours. He’s washing the dishes and cleaning up the mess the two of you made.

“Seungmin”

He jumps and almost drops the glass.

“What are you doing?”

“Uh,” he sighs, “I didn’t want you to have to clean all this up in the morning. I’m sorry, I’m done.” He grabs his backpack and heads for the door. “Get some sleep before the sun comes up.”

One shoe is on, the other is halfway there as he stares at you. “Are you crying?”

You wipe at your cheek and feel what you couldn’t hold back.

Seungmin kicks his shoes off again and hesitates for a moment, but eventually, when you don’t speak, he closes the space between you. “You’re crying,” he takes your cheeks in his hands. “Please…if you won’t talk to me now, please call me tomorrow. Or text, I don’t care. Tell me you still feel the same as you do right now, and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Stop it,” you squeeze your eyes shut and feel more tears escape. Seungmin’s warm embrace, his arms holding tight around your shoulders, it makes everything else fall away.

“Stop what?”

“Being so good, and patient, and calm. You should’ve run off by now”

“Why are you so hard on yourself? You think you should be punished for…yes, I remember you saying that…for what? I know you want this.”

All you can manage is a mumble against his chest.

He relaxes his arms and grips your waist, “what did you say?”

“I do”

“Want this? Or think you should be punished?”

More silence from you, but he waits.

“I’ll leave. And I hope I hear from you tomorrow.”

He lets go, and manages to get into his shoes before you say his name. As fed up as he should be hearing his name again, he’s not. Seungmin looks at you with hopeful, tired eyes.

“Yeah?” He watches you closely, tilts his head to the side. You can see his eyes moving up and down over your body, "tell me I can stay.”

Your legs shake and your head swims. The ache behind your eyes is growing worse and worse, but looking at him makes it bearable, somehow. Even now, he’s ready to run to you as soon as you say go. But you can’t figure out why.

Seungmin is still who he is, and you’re who you are, and you don’t really belong together. Someone will find out and put a stop to it. But what if things slowly start to connect; fall into place; work out for a while? Forever? No, that doesn't sound right. Loving him before was easy, because you assumed it would always be one-sided and simple; no worries about making something work, or about working toward something. Now this is real, and it's a little bit scary looking at him and realizing how much you want him, and how big this could get.

"Say something," he sighs, and it sounds nowhere near as irritated as it should.

Your gaze drops to your feet, defeated—it moves toward his, and again, he’s taking off his shoes. Seungmin stands there and faces you.

“Okay...okay."

─ ⋅♡⋅ ─

[formulapookie]

💛💛

under the cut to read on Tumblr, here to read on Ao3

❗️mention of throwing up❗️ chapter 2

Les fleurs du mal ch.1 rosquez, 1.3k words

His ears are ringing, he can feel the blood running in his veins.

He’s stuck there, unable to move, forcing a trained smile on his face, holding the tears at bay.

There’s only Vale’s words playing on loop in his brain, like a broken record.

He’s torturing the little anti stress he’s got in his hands, heart rate at its peak, he thinks he’s about to throw up.

Marc sees a flash of Yamaha Blue in front of him, leaving after saying those things.

He can’t believe he really said that.

“É vero che era mio fan? Che aveva il mio poster in camera? Non so dovrei controllare”

These words cut a deep wound in Marc’s heart, he can feel it bleeding, it hurts more than any crash he ever went through.

He saw it. He saw the poster and the cap and the little bikes he collected.

He saw the framed picture of the two of them together, the signed helmet he kept in his room.

Saw it all when he came to his home, when Marc showed him his little sanctuary, like Vale called it.

“You have a sanctuary here eh?”

Marc had blushed, looking down at his feet.

“Yeah I like to collect the bikes, and I have the picture we took in-“ “In 2008 I remember”

Marc had smiled at that, and Vale had smiled back, asking Marc if he remembered each of the bike from each race.

And he did.

Vale had looked at him with stars in his eyes while he pointed at each bike telling him from which race it was.

“You really are amazing Marc”

Marc had blushed again, Vale had kissed him and led him to his bed.

They were alone in the home, Marc had asked Alex to go to a friend’s house for the day, and possibly the night, since their parents were both out for a small holiday.

Alex had pulled a disgusted look but agreed, it wasn’t like he wanted to be there when his brother and boyfriend? fuckbuddy? would’ve done what they wanted to do.

Vale had been gentle, kind, he cooked for him afterwards, Amatriciana, and it was really good.

They had sex again after dinner, forgetting about the movie playing on TV and ending up

being woken by Alex’s screech as he came back home the day after, finding them naked and hugging under the blanket on the sofa.

Vale had seen his home.

Vale had seen his room.

And now he’s saying he doubts him ever being a fan of his.

Marc leaves the conference room feeling like he could be blown away by the first wind breath, he’s trying to convince himself this is just a nightmare, he will wake up and he will be in bed with Vale, the sharp smell of his shampoo and the light touch of Vale’s fingers on his torso.

But for how much he tries to wake up he can’t.

He’s still here, in his motorhome now, tears who can’t seem to stop falling from his eyes, shivers all around his body like he’s got a fever.

He feels disoriented, he’s breathing too fast and there’s a suffocating feeling in his throat and chest. He’s trying to walk around his motor home but he’s unsteady, he’s aware he might fall on the ground at any moment.

Alex and his father had tried to get in, but he yelled at them to leave him alone, and Marc never yelled.

They had given up, after a few more useless attempts, but none of the two was calm in leaving Marc alone.

Marc runs for the bathroom, leaning over the toilet and puking his lunch and everything he ate that day too.

He pukes until he can’t feel anything anymore, but there’s still something in his chest, it feels rooted inside him.

No.

No no no fuck no it can’t be.

Marc barely has the time to deny this possibility that he’s leaning on the toilet again, coughing unstoppably.

As he looks down with terror his fear is confirmed.

Petals.

Yellow ones, what a fucking joke the fate has for him.

He remembers his biology teacher talking about it.

“Hanahaki disease is a somatic disease which attacks your lungs and throat, making it hurtful for one to even breathe at some point. It can cause death if it’s not treated. The symptoms are easy to remember, whoever is infected will start to puke petals, sometimes random colors, sometimes colors we associate with the person which is causing the Hanahaki. The disease manifests itself when an individual is living an unrequited love or believes he is living it. One can either wait and hope the feelings are reciprocated or get an operation consisting of the removal of the blossom, placed between one’s lungs. It’s a risky and complicated process, and a side effect could be the loss of the capacity of an individual to feel romantic love, and in some cases the loss of every memory tied to the person causing it”

Two yellow petals stand floating in his toilet, staring back at him before Marc flushes, looking at them go away with terror in his eyes.

No one must know. Not even his family or God forbid, Vale.

What would Vale do if he knew?

At this point he is not sure of anything. He would make fun of him with his friends most likely.

Or he would call him a liar once again, just shortening the time in which the disease could become incurable.

Lucìa, the little girl with braids, raised her hand.

“Teacher but how much time do we have before the flowers kill us?”

“Well let’s hope it never happens, but it depends on the hurt one experiences during the disease. If the patient gets hurt by the person they love it will fasten the process, and sometimes it goes further so rapidly the patient doesn’t realize he doesn’t have time anymore, and even if he wants to get the operation done it wouldn’t do anything”

He will keep this a secret.

If it’ll end up being the case he will undergo the operation.

But until then he’ll just hope. Hope for Vale to love him again.

Vale is sitting in his motor home, a cold beer in hand as Uccio tells him all about Marc’s reaction at the press con.

Uccio seems delighted by it, seems to be feasting on Marc’s pain and suffering in a way that even to Vale is concerning.

Like yeah, after how he acted Vale does find it funny to watch Marc’s helpless reaction on screen, but the type of fun Uccio has it’s sick.

“He was about to cry god what a fucking pussy” “Look Vale how he looks for you and is absolutely to cry” “Serves him right after how dangerous he’s been towards you yeah?”

Vale knows damn well Marc does have those bikes and posters at his. Because he’s seen them all when he went to Cervera.

But he still thinks what he said was the right thing to do.

Because he knows despite his words Marc will stay tied to his leash like a fucking dog and follow him everywhere and listen to his words like commands.

He knows he could call Marc right now, have Uccio leave him alone, and he could fuck Marc with all the anger and need he wants.

And he knows Marc would take it, fucking say thanks probably, and go on loving him no matter what he says.

He doesn’t, he just doesn’t feel like fucking him right now, but keeps that number at top 1 for how many times he’s called him.

He wants to see how mean he can be before Marc gives up.

Maybe he’s wrong in judging Uccio.

This is just as fucked up as him laughing because Marc was in the edge of breaking on live.

Because in the end the idol is Valentino Rossi, and the fan is Marc Marquez. And Marc Marquez is a damn loyal dog.

[thefrogdalorian]

The Best of Both Worlds - Chapter Seven

Din Djarin x Female Reader Modern!AU

❁ Series Masterlist ❁ My Masterlist ❁ Read on AO3 ❁

Word Count:  9456 Rating: General Summary: Despite feeling certain that you'll never see the ridiculously handsome man you gave a tour of the museum to, a special delivery is about to change everything... Content Warnings: Brief description of anxiety, reader feels a bit anxious in a crowded area. Author's Note: Big thanks once again to my amazing beta @suresnips!! I appreciate your feedback so much 💕  The slow burn is certainly slow burning. When I started posting this I was wondering whether I should tag it as slowburn which is ridiculous because 54k words in and they're still like THIS AUGHBSGJD just KISS you idiots! Anyway, really hope you enjoyed this one. I had a blast writing it. This is the last chapter I'd edited while writing, so updates might slow down a bit to once (but hopefully twice) per week now. Thanks for reading, I'd love to know if you're enjoying it so far!!

6. You're The Sunflower [Reader's POV]

You were under no illusions that the odds of seeing Din again were slim to none, but no matter how hard you tried, you had not been able to stop thinking about him. Ever since you had given him a tour of the museum on Friday night, you had been unable to shake the memory of how incredible you had felt in his presence. Of course, you were instantly attracted to him and felt the spark when the two of you shook hands. Plus, there was that look on his face when he referred to the beauty of the exhibits as he gazed at you. You had been unable to get the way his eyes had softened as he looked at you from your mind, no matter how hard you tried.

Work brought you no relief. Everywhere you went, you were reminded of him. Any time you had to leave your office work behind to face the public, you were barely able to focus on giving the various groups that you had been entrusted with a proper tour. You kept looking out for the patient brown eyes and dark curls that had left an imprint on your mind after such a short amount of time. Several times your heart leapt when you thought you saw a man with just the right physique and height, with similar brown curls. But then his head would turn and your hopes would be dashed. Unfortunately, there were so many visitors to the museum each day that these moments were all too frequent, delivering a crushing blow each time. 

It was ridiculous, pining over Din and looking out for him like this. You were under no illusions to the fact that you would never see him again. The time you had spent together that evening as you gave him a tour of the museum was lovely. In another life, perhaps the two of you would have been able to explore the genuine connection. But in this life: this was it. Your paths were never going to cross again. It was utterly ridiculous to think otherwise, no matter how much you ached to see him again. You just had a little crush on an attractive older guy. You would forget about him before too long.

Fortunately, today you had no tours scheduled. You were tasked with cataloguing some of the museum’s extensive archival collection. Specifically, seventh-century Chinese pottery. Although sometimes you found such work dull, you appreciated that everything had an order to it and a system to be filed under. Once it was completed, it would be incredibly satisfying. So you had thrown yourself into such work, partly borne out of a desire to see it completed but mostly, if you were honest, to distract yourself from the kind brown eyes of a man you would never see again.

The task was going well and you were making storming progress, especially considering that it was only mid-morning. That was until the familiar presence of your manager, Julie, entered the office and disturbed your peace. The sound of a heavy object being placed on the desk with a thud, caused you to look up.

It was perhaps the biggest bunch of flowers you had ever seen, in an ornate vase with stunning patterns running the length of the glass. You could tell, just by looking at it, that it was a luxurious bouquet that had presumably set back whoever bought it several hundred pounds. Your heart skipped a beat. There was no way these could be for you.

When your racing mind finally focused on the flowers, your jaw dropped as you realised exactly what they were. With their tall, green stems and bright yellow petals, they were unmistakably sunflowers. 

As you sat there, aghast at the beautiful bouquet before you, Julie finally offered an explanation: “These came in from a flower shop this morning. The delivery guy said your name. I have no idea who they’re from and trust me, I had quite a battle to get them through security. Luckily a guy called Mo vouched for you. Maybe the card makes sense to you.” Julie said, winking at you as she walked away, leaving you sitting there at your desk, mouth hanging open.

Surely it couldn’t be… from him?

You noticed the little golden card nestled in amongst the sunflowers, with trembling hands you brought it towards your face so that you could see who the flowers were from. On it, the neat black handwriting read:

Let’s show the kid a real rhino. Meet me at the gates of London Zoo.

Saturday, 11:30 am.

– D 

When you saw the single letter at the bottom of the card, you almost fell backwards off your chair onto the hard wooden floor below. It was from him. You felt your skin warming furiously as you read the message. Then, you read it again to make sure that you weren't dreaming. This surely had to be a joke, right?! An elaborate scheme to poke fun at you. 

But that was ridiculous, apart from Ria, who was in a different country, and Mo, who had no idea of your affection for Din, no one had any idea that the two of you had interacted. Plus, given the evident expense of such flowers, it was unlikely someone would squander such an enormous sum on playing a prank. So with all possibilities of a prank ruled out… you finally allowed yourself to believe that this was real. That Din wanted to see you again as much as you wanted to see him. He had felt the spark too and now the two of you would meet again in just a few days. 

You were in complete and utter disbelief that this was real. That there was a possibility that Din felt the same way about you. That, he too, held that same curiosity towards you; that pull that made you want to get to know him better. How, though, could someone like him possibly feel this way about someone like… you?

Julie inched back into the room, clearly having kept her distance from you to allow you to process the flowers and the note. You suddenly panicked and wondered whether she had read the note, and was coming back here to reprimand you for using your job to potentially start a relationship with a visitor. You reasoned that even if she had read the note, Din had left it deliberately vague with just his initial. She would never guess it was the man you had shown around this very museum only a few days previously. 

“I won’t pry,” Julie said with a smile on her face. “But whoever sent those must really care about you.”

You let out a deep sigh of relief. Julie’s demeanour proved that she was anything but mad at you. Fortunately, you and Julie had always gotten along. Unlike some of the other managers at the museum who would have hit the roof if one of their employees had been delivered such a bouquet in the middle of the day, she had been nothing kind to you. She was a couple of decades older than you and she reminded you of a family friend from your childhood. You had leant on her for advice when you had first moved to the big city.

“I think so.” You squeaked, feeling your skin burning up in embarrassment.

“Well, I’m happy for you,” Julie said, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I wish nothing but the best for you. If you want to take your lunch slightly earlier and head off now, you’re welcome to.”

“Thanks, Julie.” You said appreciatively.

Budget cuts and constraints meant that sometimes the museum was understaffed and you were overworked, but Julie was always firm yet fair on the staff. She was great at getting the best out of her employees, she knew who needed to be micromanaged and who could work just as productively while being left to their own devices. You fell firmly in the second category, much preferring to be left to your own thing. And now, Julie could sense that the arrival of a large bouquet and card would send your productivity levels plunging unless you got to take yourself off and have some time to process it.

Your phone was in your hand before you had even left the museum, you were rapidly firing off texts to Ria. It would be early morning for her, but you knew she should be awake for classes and you hoped she was there to help cease the trembling in your body that had overcome you since the arrival of the flowers on your desk.

[ilovemando] 11:37: RIAAAAA!!!!! remember din, the hot guy i showed around the museum with his son?? He fucking sent a bouquet of SUNFLOWERS to my work and said to meet him on saturday at the gates of the zoo i told him about and recommended him to visit with his kid???

[thisistheslay] 11:40: OMG WHAT!?!? FLOWERS TO YOUR DESK!!! THIS SOUNDS LIKE SOMETHING FROM A FANFIC I CAN’T BREATHE????

[ilovemando] 11:42 I KNOW. i was sure it was just my colleague pranking me but no, my manager confirmed it was hand-delivered by a flower shop this morning. and not any flower shop either, this one is like insanely london fancy. i’m just a peasant. i can’t believe this….. this kind of thing doesn’t happen to me!!

[thisistheslay] 11:45: Well, looks like it is happening to you, bestie. I’m so happy for you. What were the flowers like?

[ilovemando] 11:47: he got me sunflowers :’) after i told him van gogh was my favourite painter and i loved that piece. i can’t fucking breathe, honestly. my manager let me get lunch early and i have no idea how i’m going to eat let alone FUNCTION until saturday omg help me

[ilovemando] 11:50: but the thing is idk if it’s a date bc his kid is coming??? ahhhhh i dont wanna assume too much, maybe he just wants to be friends

You placed your phone back in your pocket as you found a place to sit in the park. Since the amount of money you had splurged on Mando merch at ForceCon, you had been forcing yourself to bring packed lunches to work in a bid to save money. It had mostly worked and you found that as the weather was improving, there was no greater delight than sitting outside in the park next to the museum and enjoying your lunch as you watched the world go by.

Once you had found an available bench, conveniently located underneath the tall trees that lined the edge of the park which partially protected you from the sun that was beating down as midday approached, you took your phone out and were relieved to see Ria had immediately texted you back. Your head had been swimming with possibilities over whether Din also viewed this as a date and you were eager to get a rational, outsider’s perspective. 

[thisistheslay] 11:53: I mean, if a guy was sending a fancy bouquet of sunflowers to MY desk, I would absolutely take that romantically. Maybe he just can’t leave his kid with someone and that’s why he’s coming, I wouldn’t take that as a bad thing necessarily.

You read Ria’s message and felt your stomach flutter with butterflies once again as she reminded you of what had just happened. Din had sent you flowers. At your desk. Not just any flowers, either. Flowers that were in a piece of art you adored, that your favourite painter had created. Din had remembered that little detail about you, despite you only mentioning it in passing. 

You shook your head and placed your phone in your pocket. You’d reply to Ria later. For now, you needed to eat your lunch and collect your thoughts so you could regain your composure and make progress on the task that you needed to complete at work that afternoon. 

When you returned to work after your lunch break, however, you found that it was a struggle to focus on carrying out important archival research when an insanely hot older guy that you had an enormous crush on had indicated that he wanted to see you again. Not only did he want to see you again, but he had enlisted a fancy London florist to deliver your favourite flowers, a detail that he had remembered from a brief comment, no less. It was probably the most romantic thing anyone had done for you, which was not exactly difficult. There had been a sad lack of romance in your life over recent years, aside from the Mando fanfics you had consumed each night before bed. Traditional books had fallen somewhat by the wayside when you were at University, but you found that you still had a voracious appetite for reading. Especially when it came to consuming stories where you were the object of Mando’s affections.

Work kept you so busy that you found yourself quite content to be single as it meant that your downtime was yours and yours alone. Plus, adjusting to living in a new city – especially a city as massive as London – had already been difficult enough, without introducing romance into that. Yet it appeared that when you had least been looking for it, a potential love story had fallen right into your lap. It was quite remarkable timing.

Your state of mind did not improve over the next few days. It was a struggle to maintain your composure for the rest of the week and focus on your tasks. Luckily, you had been moved to have a less public-facing role as you stayed behind the scenes in the offices, working on the extensive archives. Luckily, Julie had known exactly how to deal with the situation and had understood, perhaps even before you, that you were in no position to face visitors when your thoughts lay firmly elsewhere. 

Mercifully, with the help of some colleagues and a little bit of overtime, you completed the project on Friday afternoon, as planned. The relief and sense of achievement were immense, it had been no small undertaking to catalogue seventh-century Chinese pottery pretty much all on your own. You practically galloped out of work, excited for the weekend that lay ahead and in particular, to see Din again.

Despite your eagerness to leave work, you still took your time heading home, stopping for noodles at your favourite noodle shop on the way. You timed it just right so that you missed the main rush of commuters who were leaving London to return home and everyone else who was coming into London for a night out. You had had your fun in clubs and bars in the past, but you always felt ancient watching people heading for their nights out in skimpy clothes. There were a few of them, swigging from cans on the platform and laughing and chattering so loudly that you turned your headphones up to their maximum volume.

You did not begrudge them having a good time, but to you, it all just looked so uncomfortable. Rather than wearing uncomfortable clothing and cramming into overpriced bars to listen to awful music, you wanted to go home and sloth out on the couch in front of an episode of Mando. Although you had barely finished your last rewatch, you had just started another one. Despite how occupied your mind had been recently, it felt wrong somehow to not have a Mandalorian rewatch ongoing.

Lounging around on the couch in front of The Mandalorian was precisely how you spent your Friday night. With your comfortable pyjamas and facemask on, you felt somewhat relaxed, despite the churning that would commence in your stomach every time you thought about the prospect of seeing Din again tomorrow.

Although you were excited, you were also incredibly nervous. You wanted to make a good impression and hoped that the chemistry that had been there during the tour carried over to your day out at the zoo. But there were so many things to consider, questions to ask yourself about the whole situation. You found yourself dwelling on whether he viewed this as a date. You knew that you certainly wanted it to be one and sending such an extravagent bouquet probably indicated that there was at least some romantic intention there. But perhaps Din viewed going to the zoo to show Grogu a rhino as a purely platonic outing. You remained unsure of how to take it.

In addition, you were agonising over what to wear. You had triple, no quadruple checked your outfit for the zoo day out with Din. You fretted over how to style your hair, sending several shots to the groupchat to ask for their advice. As much as the groupchat had been helpful, you wished they had been physically present. There was just something about having people close that you couldn’t replicate online. Facetime and voice chats were helpful but you wished you had Ria by your side on the couch, giggling over the stupid goo facemasks you were slapping on your faces as you watched another episode of Mando. But Ria, and the rest of your friends, were thousands of miles away. You were all alone. Well, except for Mando, of course.

After finishing a steaming cup of your favourite herbal tea, you eventually turned in before midnight as you wanted to get up early to give yourself plenty of time. You were probably going to end up being at the zoo ridiculously early, but under no circumstances did you want to leave Din hanging, especially considering that you did not have his number. All you had was a time and a place to be. You were going to be there.

Despite how exhausting your week had been, sleep did not come easily. You tossed and turned, thinking about what tomorrow would bring. It was quite a turnaround of events, to go from believing that you would never see someone again to being only hours from facing them again. Nerves and excitement bubbled away in your stomach as you lay there, picturing the kind brown eyes and that crooked smile that you knew you were only hours away from seeing again…

The familiar tones of The Mandalorian’s theme song roused you from sleep at eight the following morning. You were a bundle of nerves and excitement, feeling as though your skin was tingling all over. As you lay there and slowly blinked your tired eyes open, you found yourself grinning from ear to ear as you remembered that you were awake so early on the weekend because the man whom you were incredibly attracted to wanted to see you again.

You knew there had been an undeniable spark between you and Din that evening at the museum. But you had doubted yourself and eventually convinced yourself that you were being delusional. How could he ever be interested in you? Din was just a polite, kind man, nothing more. How wrong you had been. Now, you were getting yourself ready to see him again.

Well, getting ready was yet to happen. First, you had to watch an episode of Mando as you ate your breakfast. It was a crutch you leaned on during times of great stress. If there was a big life event taking place, chances were that you had watched an episode of The Mandalorian at some point in the build-up to it. People leaned on all kinds of things, it just happened that yours was a sci-fi show that brought you an immense amount of joy. You might have been a little embarrassed about relying on it so heavily but, ultimately, you weren’t hurting anyone else with your hobby. You were proud that Mando had helped you through so much.

With your episode and breakfast finished, it was time to get ready. You had already agonised over the outfit for hours last night. However, in the early morning light, you doubted whether you looked good enough. You wanted to be comfortable considering how much walking you were sure to do, while also making an effort to impress Din. You ended up swapping out the skirt you had planned to wear for a pair of black and white striped cotton pants that were wide-legged enough to be cool in the summer. As you left your flat and headed to the station to make your way into London, you were glad for your last-minute outfit change. The thought of getting onto a busy transport network with all the grime and dirt of fellow passengers while wearing a skirt felt disgusting, somehow.

It was Saturday morning on the tube and mercifully, it wasn’t too busy. You were well accustomed to most routes by now and could use the tube with your eyes closed, if necessary. Today, however, you were so nervous that you felt yourself second-guessing your every move. Doubting whether you were heading in the right direction or on the right line and whether your tube would arrive at the zoo in time.

Fortunately, you remembered to bring your headphones, so you at least had the Mando soundtrack to keep you company. For a few minutes on the tube, you weren’t on an underground system hurtling underneath the streets of London at all. No, you were on a hyperloop pod on Coruscant, zooming along with Mando like you had seen him do several times in the show in pursuit of his most recent bounty. 

As strange as it probably sounded to anyone who did not love the show as much as you did, when you listened to the music you felt as though some of Mando’s certainty in himself and the confident way he carried himself was somehow being transferred to you. You loved Mando for many reasons, but one of them was how much you looked up to him and admired him as a person. He had many characteristics that you only wished you could possess yourself. You truly felt as though he was someone you aspired to be, even if he was fictional. 

You were so caught up in your fantasies, that you almost missed your stop. But fortunately, you realised in time and scrambled for the door. You glanced down at your watch and realised that you were pretty early, it was not even eleven yet. So, you decided to grab a coffee just outside the tube station so you wouldn’t be standing there at the zoo, looking like a little lost puppy. Plus, weren’t you meant to be fashionably late to dates? Or whatever this was? Wasn’t that a thing people did? 

The coffee shop you selected was a bit pretentious and hipster for your taste. You had no desire to order an oat milk two pump caramel chai latte macchiato or whatever it was that people who used a lot of beard cream ordered. So you just settled on a regular cappuccino, which came with a slightly judgmental look from the barista. With your order in hand, you settled down on a comfortable seat by the window in the corner of the shop and took out your phone, firing off a message to Ria.

[ilovemando] 10:49 - ik ur probably asleep now but i’m about to go to the date with din and im so nervous aaah. he’s so hot and i feel like im going to make a massive idiot out of myself. currently drowning myself in coffee. not sure it’ll help my nerves. text me when you wake up!!

Of course, Ria didn’t respond straight away. It was not even six for her and you gathered she was asleep like any normal human would be on a Saturday. With no internet friend to calm your nerves, you instead decided to pass the time by watching the people of London pass by your window. Usually, on a Saturday morning like this, you would be nowhere near the centre of the city, preferring to keep to your quieter neighbourhood. It was a treat to sit and watch people going about their business, young and old, families and alone. You felt as though you were seeing a real slice of life outside that window.

You liked being a wallflower, a quiet observer. You used to spend more time out and about before the pandemic but after everything had locked down you realised you didn’t like people that much, as harsh as that may sound. No, since those times you much preferred to spend your time inside, watching Mando or talking to your friends. So it was strange to be out on a Saturday morning in this part of the city, watching the world go by. The longer you sat there, you found that you didn’t hate it as much as you thought you would. It was a nice change of scenery. 

After a few minutes and drinking half of your cappuccino, you turned your attention inside the coffee shop. You noticed that there were plenty of couples here in this coffee shop, staring at each other affectionately from across the table, their hands clasped around their steaming mugs. It made your heart soar a little in hope, wondering whether those looks and these lazy mornings lay in your future with Din. Maybe you should do this more often. Maybe you and Din could come for a coffee here sometime.

Din, you thought with a start.

Thinking of him made you realise that you had completely lost track of time. It was now twenty past eleven and the Zoo was around a fifteen-minute walk away. You cursed yourself under your breath, you were always prone to daydreaming and could get so easily distracted sometimes, lost inside your own head. You had intended to be on time, maybe even early, to avoid giving any kind of impression that you weren’t eager to see Din again. Yet, now, to ensure that you would have to arrive there a sweaty mess, you would have to speed-walk to the zoo. 

Fortunately, you still had your headphones on and you switched to an upbeat playlist, soon falling into step with the fast guitar and drumbeat as you headed to the zoo. The streets were beginning to get busier now and your earlier musings about enjoying being in the city for a change were long forgotten, replaced by a general disdain for the human race. But then you remembered where you were going and who you were meeting. You couldn't help but feel a smile creep across your face. A smile that only got wider when you approached the zoo gates and you saw a familiar figure standing there, waiting for you.

You felt yourself instantly lighten as you noticed him. A stupid, insecure part of your brain had worried that you had somehow misinterpreted things and he wasn’t going to be there. But sure enough, Din was standing right outside the gates with Grogu nestled in his arms. They were facing away from you but it allowed you to appreciate how broad Din’s shoulders looked from the back as you approached him. You were equally delighted to see the sweet little boy again as you were to see his father. After all, if Grogu had not been so drawn to Dürer’s rhino, perhaps the three of you would not be here together now.

As you approached him, you appraised Din’s outfit. He was dressed in a grey knitted cardigan with a dark turtleneck underneath it and a similar pair of dark brown trousers to those he had worn at the museum. You noticed Din was wearing his trusty brown boots once again. You thought he was a bit overdressed considering it was almost July, but British summer was typically not the warmest, so perhaps he had got it just right. Grogu was wearing a light green, short-sleeved t-shirt and a pair of brown trousers. His curly hair was sticking up at all ends and you thought he looked thoroughly adorable. 

You were only a few feet away from Din now, but he still hadn’t spotted you. You weren’t quite sure how to play it – should you tap him on the shoulder? But you decided against that, you didn’t want to startle him with Grogu in his arms.

“Hi, Din,” you said quietly. Din turned around abruptly to face you as if your presence had startled him.

“You came!” Din said, his face suddenly lighting up, eyes crinkling in joy. The wrinkles beside his eyes were suddenly visible, a visual reminder that he was slightly older than you. But the reminder of his age did not make him look any less attractive. Din looked distinguished and handsome.

“Of course I came! Thank you for the flowers and suggestion to meet here. I loved them, it was very thoughtful of you to remember that I mentioned loving Van Gogh’s sunflowers,” you replied, voice shaking slightly with nerves.

“I’m glad you liked the flowers and didn’t find it, uh, creepy,” Din said nervously, placing his hand on the back of his neck again like he had done the first time you had met him in the museum. It was an adorable, bashful, mannerism that you adored.

“Of course not,” you smiled. “It was incredibly thoughtful of you. I’m so happy that you found a way to stay in touch.”

“Me too,” Din whispered, his eyes shimmering with an emotion that you could not quite place. Then he shook his head slightly and remembered the child that he was holding in his arms. “I hope you don’t mind me bringing Grogu along. But, like I said, wherever I go… he goes. And I believe you originally suggested the zoo because of his love for animals, so it wouldn’t have felt right to come here without him.”

“Of course it’s fine, Din,” You smiled. “Hi Grogu!” You beamed, giving a little wave to the little boy with the big brown eyes.

Grogu returned the smile, you were pleased to see that he seemed a lot calmer than he had at the museum. You saw Din visibly relax as you were fine with his son’s presence.

“It’s so good to see you again,” Din breathed. “I was nervous that you weren’t going to show up,” he admitted shyly.

“How could I refuse an invitation to a Zoo?” You questioned with a smile. 

“Really, you don’t get sick of something like this after working at a museum all week?” Din said, raising one eyebrow at you.

“Absolutely not! Well, a zoo is a bit different to a museum but either way, I always loved them since I was Grogu’s age. I was always the straggler during any school trip to a zoo or museum when I was younger. I could have spent hours there,” You began, but shook your head, realising that you were probably rambling. “But enough about me, why don’t we head inside and find those rhinos that I promised were here and that this little one would love?” You beamed, suddenly self-conscious that you were oversharing again.

Din did not seem to mind though. He seemed to enjoy your tangential little rants. Of course, a few days ago he had been a paying customer for them. Now it was just the two of you, and you were painfully aware that they could be annoying to certain people. Not everyone shared the boundless enthusiasm you held for things that you were passionate about. Not everyone found it sweet and endearing. You had learnt the hard way that people could be profoundly annoyed by your enthusiasm and did not understand that you were not trying to make them feel bad. But those judgmental people were far in the past now. 

It had taken a lot of time and a lot of hurt, but you had learnt the hard way that hiding parts of yourself was incredibly draining and only caused you more heartache and pain in the long term. So, with Din, you determined that things would be different. You were going to be nothing but one hundred per cent honest with him. After all, he wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble of picking out the flowers that you had mentioned just in passing if he didn’t like you on some level. It was time to be yourself and let Din see you for who you truly were.

That time had apparently come sooner than you were anticipating. As you made your way inside the zoo, you were suddenly getting the same vibe you had gotten at ForceCon. Where too many people were crammed into an impossibly small space, making things incredibly crowded. It was slightly panic-inducing, but you resolved to try and remain calm. Unfortunately, you did not have a comforting internet friend and a convenient staircase to hide under. It was far busier than you were anticipating. You usually visited the zoo when you had a half day off or on a Sunday afternoon when it seemed to be quieter. Since the weather had improved and it was a Saturday, though, it should have come as no surprise to see the zoo this busy.

Although you did not have Ria at your side, you were not completely alone. You glanced over at Din and instantly felt a rush of adrenaline course through your body. He looked so handsome, his strong side profile and beautiful nose silhouetted against the crowds of busy people. With his broad shoulders and looming presence, a feeling of calmness and security washed over you. Maybe if you had had him to ogle when you had been making your way through the crowds at ForceCon, you would have handled it better, you thought with a smirk.

That momentary relief was fleeting, though. The crowds did not cease, you found that same sensation of being swept away gnawing away in your gut that you had at the convention. But, you reasoned, you had handled that then, just like you would handle this now.

“Are you alright?” Din said, suddenly noticing that you looked slightly uncomfortable. You momentarily cringed, feeling self-conscious that he had noticed how much you were struggling. 

“I’m fine, just not a huge fan of crowds,” you admitted with a slight grimace. “It’ll be fine once we clear out of the entrance though and get on the paths to one of the enclosures. Actually, I think the rhinos are right at the back where hopefully not many people will head straight away. Maybe we could go there first, work against the crowds?”

Din agreed with your suggestion and was content to let you lead the way. The three of you headed down a path that seemed to be in the correct direction of where the rhinos were. It seemed like you were walking the same way as the crowds for a little while. You feared for a second that perhaps, everyone had the same idea as you to head to the back of the zoo first.

Eventually, the tide seemed to turn and more people began heading down the narrow path towards you. You had to squeeze in and get close to Din. You inhaled sharply at the way your skin tingled as you brushed shoulders with him. It was ridiculous that such a light touch, through a shirt, could set your entire body on fire like that. 

Then something bizarre happened. As you moved in to let the latest family pass, you noticed that Grogu was pointing at a young boy. You wondered for a second if they were perhaps friends, but when you looked a little closer you noticed the boy was wearing a shirt with Mando’s helmet on it. What a coincidence! You wondered if perhaps Grogu was a fan of the show. After all, despite its violent elements, it was surprisingly popular with kids. The comment Din had made in the museum about Grogu liking armour came to mind, too. 

You were about to ask Din whether he and Grogu had watched The Mandalorian, but you noticed a strange look suddenly sweep across his features. It seemed to you as if he wanted this family to move past you as quickly as possible. Din sped up and hurriedly walked a few paces ahead of you further up the path, clearly eager to get away from the child as quickly as possible. You frowned slightly and followed him, wondering what precisely it was about the tiny interaction that had spooked him so much. You didn’t question Din on his actions or push for answers. You guessed that he was just a little nervous with Grogu in the crowd. After all, the kid had a habit of running off which you were all too familiar with following his antics in the museum the previous week.

Fortunately, you did not have too long to dwell on the interaction as the path came to an end and you soon found yourselves at the edge of the rhino enclosure. Din picked Grogu up, lifting the little boy so he could take in the sights of the animals over the wire fences that bordered the enclosure.

“See, Grogu?” Din said, pointing in the direction of the beasts. “It’s the same animal we saw in that artwork the other day at the museum, a rhinoceros!”

Grogu chirped in delight, bringing his hands together in glee. The child seemed happy to be here, to be spending time with both of you. He was delighted, as he took in the fact that the same animal that he had seen in picture form a few days ago, was now here before him. Grogu could not convey it in words, but you were sure that he was delighted that you and Din had gone to the trouble of bringing him here.

You looked over at Din too, finding that he was equally enthralled by the rhinos, his brown eyes wide in awe as he watched them pace throughout the enclosure. It was sweet to see whatever stress that Din had endured after Grogu had been so drawn towards that Mando shirt, slowly releasing as he gazed at the magnificent, otherworldly beasts. 

You were still curious about Din’s adverse reaction to a seemingly innocent t-shirt. Perhaps Din just really hated that show, you reasoned. Pop culture was a topic that you had not really broached with Din thus far. You were a little afraid that your references might draw blanks from him given your slight age gap. Din being slightly older than you didn’t bother you and you felt as though there was no real power imbalance between the two of you. Plus, you loved how respectful and caring he was, in a way that guys your age were not.

As you and Din stood there admiring the rhinos, you found yourself mesmerised by the power of the beasts; the way their firm, coarse skin rippled as they took steps through the mud. It broke your heart to think that these creatures were poached for their horns and that some species were now critically endangered. Seeing them before you, they did not look real somehow. It was as though they were not from this universe and had fallen to Earth by mistake, one day. The rhinos looked like they did not belong here. In a way, you sympathised with them. 

Despite the fact you were here with Din, you found that your mind inevitably drifted back to Mando. You thought it was amusing in a way that Grogu had been so drawn towards rhinoceroses. They reminded you of the fictional creature in Star Wars, the mudhorn, that Mando wore on his pauldron. He had managed to slay one against all odds to get its egg and keep a group of unruly Jawas at bay. You remembered watching in awe as Mando used his cunning and strength to outwit the helpless creature. The rhinoceros was probably the closest thing to a mudhorn on this earth. It was an amusing coincidence, especially with Grogu’s attraction to the Mando shirt. 

After a few more minutes of gazing upon these magnificent creatures, you decided to leave the rhinos behind and head elsewhere in the zoo. Din had told you that in addition to rhinos, Grogu also liked frogs, so you headed towards the building that housed them. It was a magnificent brick building, with an ornate arch over the doorway. There were also plenty of windows to ensure that the reptiles inside were bathed in natural light. Unfortunately, it was also incredibly hot and humid inside, another measure necessary to keep the little creatures safe. You felt yourself beginning to clam up, both at the temperature change and the number of people crammed into this building. But then you looked at Grogu, his little face full of wonder as the three of you came to a halt in front of a large tank containing frogs, and your heart soared at the sight of him so excited. 

You moved to continue walking further around the Reptile House, but the sound of Din calling your name stopped you in your tracks. Grogu had forced his father to stop in front of one of the tanks and was practically squirming out of Din’s arms. The mischievous little boy tapped his small chubby hands onto the glass insistently, looking at the frogs almost as though he wanted to eat them. The kid loved frogs just as much as he loved the carving of the rhino, it seemed. You watched them with a smirk on your face, admiring the sweet scene before you. Well, it was mostly sweet, Grogu was undeniably being a bit of a menace. No matter how much Din tried to tell him that he wasn’t going to be able to touch the frogs, it seemed that the little boy could not handle that fact. He was devastated by the reality that the frogs were going to remain on the other side of the glass, out of his hands. 

You usually disliked small children, their wailing and constant need for attention irked you. Despite your usual disdain for children, you found it was impossible not to like Grogu. He was a cute kid, a complete charmer and, for the most part, very well-behaved. He had listened patiently to you at the museum the other day and had been exceedingly well-behaved on this trip to the zoo thus far. But it seemed that the frogs had pushed him over the edge. His bottom lip jutted out, beginning to pout. And then the wailing began. It was a terrible sound, one that was almost painful to your ears. You looked over to Din in panic, he had already gathered his son up in his arms and was pressing him against his shoulder in an attempt to console him. But nothing was working; the kid would not stop crying. 

“Shhhh, Grogu, shhhhh,” Din said, pleading as the toddler’s temper tantrum began to turn more than a few heads. “Sorry about this… I think it might be best if we head outside.”

“It’s fine Din.” You nodded and let him lead the way. 

Despite how busy the exhibit was, when a person had a wailing toddler in their arms, the crowds just parted instantly, without question or hesitation. You smirked as Din made his way through the crowd, mumbling ‘sorry’ and ‘excuse me’ with a frequency that any Brit would be proud of. You finally made it outside, blinking in the light. Din swung Grogu off his shoulder and looked at his son, caressing his cheek with his thumb, wiping the tears that were staining his chubby cheeks. You were in awe at the calmness and speed with which Din had approached the situation, undaunted by a wailing toddler which was, to you, a terrifying prospect. He was a natural at fatherhood, that much was obvious. 

“Alright, pal. We’re out of there now. Please calm down, Grogu,” Din pleaded, looking nervously around at the nosy onlookers.

You could tell that he was embarrassed and you felt incredibly sorry for him. After all, there was nothing to be ashamed about. Grogu was just a little boy, he didn’t understand that he couldn’t hold the frogs. You decided to step towards them and hopefully offer some words of comfort.

“Hey little guy, what’s the matter?” you asked, concernedly. “I know you love frogs, I really do… but you can’t touch them, Grogu. They have to stay in their tanks so they’re nice and warm. It keeps them safe and protects them. Just like you feel protected when you’re in your dad’s arms,” you smiled, hoping that your words were cutting through to the tearful little boy. Grogu stopped wailing and titled his head to the side, as though he was trying to process the new information you had given him and make his mind up whether it was agreeable. 

“That’s right, we wouldn’t want anything to happen to the frogs, would we?” Din joined in, nodding at you appreciatively for your intervention.

Grogu was still for a few moments but then began furiously shaking his head. It seemed that yours and Din’s kind words had finally gotten through to him. 

“Good boy! That’s it, Grogu, well done for understanding why you can’t touch them,” Din said proudly. 

“Well, you can’t touch those frogs, Grogu. But perhaps we can head to the gift shop on the way out and there might be a frog toy there for you?” You offered with a smile, hoping that Din was okay with such an offer.

Din nodded, seemingly approving of your suggestion and you felt relieved that you had not overstepped your boundaries. Thanks to yours and Din’s soothing words, Grogu soon calmed down. Now that you did not have a crying toddler to contend with, you turned around and noticed that you were standing by a play area that was currently deserted of any children. You laid eyes upon the swingset that was currently empty, a mischievous idea forming in your head.

“Shall we go on the swings?” You questioned playfully.

“It would be rude not to,” Din said with a smirk.

You made your way over to the swings, taking a seat as Din sat at the one next to you, Grogu sitting in his lap. Din told him to hold on but you had already begun moving yourself in earnest, kicking your legs out, determined to swing higher and higher. Din looked at you, a wide smile on his face as Grogu giggled. It wasn’t long before you and Din were both laughing hysterically.

Only moments before, Grogu had been violently wailing, but that terrible scene was now a distant memory as the three of you swung on the swing set. You knew that you would feel self-conscious about unleashing your inner childish side like this with most people. But with Din, you truly felt as though you could be yourself. You felt too, that the more he saw you interact with Grogu, the more he was also beginning to lower some kind of guard that he had encircled himself in. You continued happily swinging on the playground for a few more minutes until two small boys ran up to it, their faces dropping when they saw it was occupied. You felt as though you couldn’t stay there any longer with them watching you like that, so you looked at Din and the three of you climbed off and allowed the kids to play.

After leaving the swings behind, the two of you headed to the penguin enclosure, keen to see the magnificent black and white birds swimming around with your own eyes. As you and Din leant on the railings, Grogu between you, mesmerised by the creatures, the conversation shifted towards your romantic lives.

“So… uh, I was thinking perhaps we could go for some lunch at the cafe over there. Is that alright? I mean, there’s no one waiting for you back at home?” Din asked, his deep voice trembling as his brown eyes remained firmly fixed on the penguins.

“No, Din,” you breathed. “There’s no one waiting for me at home.”

“Wizard!” Din exclaimed. “Oh uh… I mean good, I wanted to spend the entire day with you.”

“Me too, Din,” you smiled. “I take it from your reaction that there is no one waiting for you, either.”

“No, it’s uh… it’s just me and Grogu. Always has been since I found him,” Din divulged and you thought you saw him grimace slightly as he admitted that. “I adopted him, you know. Don’t know much about his early life, but I’m all he has, now.”

“I gathered you had adopted him, but blood doesn’t always matter. I think you’re an amazing father,” you smiled at Din encouragingly.

“Thank you,” Din whispered, his voice cracking and eyes shimmering at your compliment.

At that moment, the little boy you had just been discussing so fondly decided to hold out his arms to Din, an indication that he wanted to be picked up. Din leaned down to scoop him up and the moment passed, but the implications of the conversation you had just shared were clear. You were both single. There were no barriers to you exploring something together. Grogu then began rubbing his stomach, an indication that he was hungry and the three of you headed towards the cafe that Din had earlier spotted.

After a delicious lunch, the rest of the afternoon passed without incident. Mercifully, Grogu did not encounter anything else that upset him as much as the Reptile House had. You and Din strolled around the remainder of the zoo at a leisurely pace, chatting to each other a little bit about your pasts as you went along. There was nothing in particular that either of you wanted to see, happy to let the mood dictate your pace. There was no pressure, nowhere for either of you to be. You gathered from comments that he had made about how busy he had been at work that week, that this was a rare, calm moment in Din’s schedule, as it was yours. He seemed to be relishing it as much as you did.

You were enjoying every moment in his presence, relieved that the spark you had first felt at the museum had carried over to your day out today. However, it was difficult to have a real conversation with him over the constant noise and toddler that you were accompanied by. Much as you had enjoyed your day out, you longed to see Din again in a quieter environment, perhaps just the two of you. But you would not make any demands or push him. Although he had been deliberately vague about what exactly it was that he did for a job, it sounded hectic and stressful. You completely understood if he wanted to spend his downtime with Grogu. You would put no pressure on him, expecting nothing even though you were extremely keen to see him again.

Eventually, you realised that it was almost closing time for the zoo. It was time to make your way to the exits and leave the animals and lush scenery behind. Though not before your promised visit to the Gift Shop, of course. You had promised Grogu a frog, after all. Fortunately, Grogu laid eyes upon the perfect toy to offset the disappointment that he had earlier felt at not being able to touch any of the amphibians. It was a bright green frog plush that he had toddled over to as soon as he laid eyes upon, pointing to it with a chubby hand, his brown eyes looking up at you expectantly.

Despite Din’s protestations that he would pay for it, you insisted. You wanted to treat the precious little boy and reward him for how well-behaved he had been throughout the day, despite his momentary lapse. Plus, Din had bought your tickets and the lunch you had enjoyed by the penguin enclosure. You felt it was the least you could do. The child was overjoyed, hugging his new frog friend tightly in one hand as he toddled alongside the pair of you out of the shop, Din clasping his other hand. 

As you made your way out of the zoo, there was an ice cream van by the entrance, clearly aimed at the crowd exiting the zoo, complete with persuasive children in tow. Grogu had locked eyes on the van that was selling the sweet, sugary treats and of course, there was only going to be one outcome, his big brown eyes were too much for Din to resist. So the three of you ordered a British summertime staple: a classic 99 Flake. It was soft-serve ice cream on a cone with a crumbly, flakey chocolate bar stuck in the ice cream.

After walking away from the van, the three of you found an empty bench to sit on, to watch the world go by and enjoy your treat. Grogu was perched contentedly on Din’s lap, and you noticed, heart skipping a beat, how close you and Din had naturally found yourselves sitting on the bench. Your shoulders and arms resting against each other, your thighs touching too. It felt surprisingly comfortable and affectionate considering how little time you had spent together. But you were certain of one thing: it felt so, so right. Of course, there were probably limits to what public displays of affection Din felt comfortable with in front of Grogu. You felt certain that this was a sign of his intentions, one that set your pulse racing.

After you had all finished your ice creams –  Grogu had ended up wearing more of his ice cream, the sweet treat smeared all around his lips, on his cheeks and nose – the three of you sat there in companionable silence. You watched as the dregs of the crowd filtered through the ornate gates where you had started your day hours before. The silence was pleasant, you were enjoying the sensation of being close to Din, his warm strong body resting against yours. You wondered if he had enjoyed the day as much as you had, hoped he had, at least. You wondered whether Din would like to see you again or if that was it. As if he could read your racing thoughts, Din broke the silence that had settled between the pair of you.

“So, uh. I was thinking… I would love to see you again, perhaps sometime in the week, after you finish work?” Din offered. “I can leave Grogu with a friend and meet you at the museum. Just be the two of us.”

“That sounds wonderful, Din,” You breathed, a shy smile crossing your lips as you looked into his soulful brown eyes. “I would love to.”

“Great!” Din said, smiling widely, clearly relieved that you were both on the same page about wanting to see each other again. “Let me give you my number, I’ll be in touch.”

You took your phone out of your pocket and held it towards your chest, unlocking it with slightly shaky fingers, overcome with excitement and tremendous relief that he had enjoyed your company. You were careful to hold your phone close to your body as you unlocked it so that Din could not see the picture that was your lockscreen. You weren’t sure how to explain the photo of you standing next to the incredible Mandalorian cosplayer that you had taken a picture with at ForceCon to someone like Din. Especially considering the way he had earlier responded to the Mando helmet t-shirt. You weren’t ready to show Din what level of nerd you were just yet. Surprisingly, you hadn’t brought Mando up to him yet. It was partly due to his reaction but also because you knew by your nature, how hard it would be to hide your true enthusiasm for it and just act like a casual fan. It was best left until you had gotten to know Din a bit better.

The unfamiliarity and uncertainty that lingered, despite how sure you were that you wanted to see Din again, was a reminder that this was only the second time you had spent time together. It was hard to believe that you had just met, because when you spent time with Din, you felt, somehow, that you knew him already. You had felt instantly comfortable in his presence, as though you had known him for many years.

And in a way, you had. You just didn’t know it.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @toxic-seduction @survivingandenduring @readingiskeepingmegoing

[seenoversundown]

For Death Or Glory : Chapter Five

Jake Kiszka x Charlotte (fem OC)

Warnings: Anxious Themes (includes a Comforting scene), Mild Meltdown (I don't want to say a panic attack because it isn't really) Mentions of Grieving, the most brief mention of funerals, silly&friendly bullying, drinking/alcohol (we know the drill), Fluff oh the fluff, & Jake yearns a little more (shocking).

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: After caving and finally asking for help, Jake doesn't know what to do with himself until she shows up. Which takes a big ol' turn for ... well, I guess we will find out, won't we? 🤭

Author's Note: If we're being completely honest, this was the first chapter I wrote, of this story. I knew exactly how I wanted this day to go and I couldn't stop myself when I thought of the idea. It's what fueled the bulk of the storyline and I really hope you guys love it as deeply as I do. 🥹

Clocks Go Forward - James Bay "Stay warm, close your eyes, let time fly, Stay close, stay right here, nothing to fear."

I slide my phone back into my pocket. Staring at it isn’t going to make her reply, Jake. I’ve been at the bar trying to figure out this paperwork for a while, and well, I’m lost. My hands keep finding their way to the back of my head as I read through these documents; I need to focus on something else. 

“Hey, how are you?” I say in passing some day-time regulars of ours. I collect any empty cans or glasses that I can, anything to keep me busy at this rate.  

I wander behind the bar, setting all the glasses in the dirty bin.

“Jake.” 

I look over to Josh, who’s wiping out a glass.

“Why don’t you just go get some lunch or something? You’re stressing me out being here.” 

“Is it really that bad?” I ask, running my hand through my hair. 

A laugh erupting from him says enough. 

“Okay, alright, I’ll leave you alone,” I tell him, “Just let me know if you need anything.” 

Reluctantly sitting back down at the desk in my office, I find myself with my head in my hands for a moment. You’re going to be okay. You’re new at this, and it’s okay to mess up. She’s giving you time to take care of everything. 

After a deep breath or two, I opened my laptop and pulled up my email. I decided that maybe spending some time doing mindless admin work would help distract me from the inevitable problem. 

I’m flying through these emails by humming along to whatever customers have chosen for the jukebox. Looking at the time in the top corner, 2:30 pm. 

She still hasn’t replied. Maybe she’s working with someone else right now; just be patient.  

I walk back into the bar, seeing a handful more people come in. I wave slightly to the regulars who like to camp out in the corner. They enjoy sneaking away from work for a few hours; “Lunch beers” is apparently what they call it.  I laughed the first time they told me about it, but as they continued the tradition, I understood it more and more. 

Looking to the corner of the bar, I see Quinn. I can’t help but watch the two of them for a minute with a grin plastered on my face. Seeing my brother so happy makes my heart swell daily, and Quinn is perfect for him; I can’t deny it. They just know how to handle him and reign him in when he’s being a bit too much. Which is more often than not. 

“Do you two want to go grab lunch?” I ask, slinking my arm around Josh’s shoulders, “I think I can handle the rowdy folk we have here.” I shoot a wink at the few customers sitting next to Quinn. 

His eyes light up, “You don’t have to ask me twice. Let’s go, bug!” 

I don’t think he could have left any quicker if he tried. Immediately, hand in hand with Quinn, and practically pranced out of the bar. 

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“And a squirrel fell down my chimney into my fireplace!” 

I nod with a quiet “mhm,” glancing at my phone hidden under the bar. 3:15 pm. I'm trying to look interested in this story I’ve heard a few times. The older gentleman talking to me forgets that he’s told me the majority of the tales he has in his arsenal. But I don’t want to cut him off; he seems lonely, and the least I can do is humor him. 

Hearing the door chime, followed by Josh making his entrance. 

“Welcome back,” I chuckle as he walks swiftly towards the bar. 

“I need to use the lavatory, and then I will be ready to rock ‘n roll or whatever kids say nowadays,” Josh mutters. 

You would think he’s nine hundred years old with how he talks sometimes, but it always keeps me on my toes. Watching as he disappears around the corner, I grab the older man’s glass and place it in the dirty bin. 

The door chime goes off again, causing my head to whip around. 

Oh, she’s here..?

As Charlotte slowly walks to the bar, I go to meet her at the opposite corner. I pull my phone out; she never replied? 

“I didn’t think I would see you today,” I start as she approaches. Leaning down to grab everything I had been looking at, I stowed away when I couldn’t focus anymore. 

“I have been reading through all of these, and I think you’re gonna need to explain these to me like I’m five–” I stop. I hadn’t looked at her face the entire time, and her eyes were pink and looked a bit swollen. She’s not making eye contact at all, which seems odd compared to the other afternoon, where I thought if she held my gaze any longer, I would explode. Was she crying? I questioned myself. I hope I didn’t cause this. Was she supposed to be off today? Oh my god, what if I’m the only reason she’s working? 

Finally pulling myself out of my head, “Are you okay?” 

She takes a shallow breath before looking up at me, and I can see that her eyes are fighting the urge to let the tears fall. 

“Um,” she swallows, looking back down, “Yeah, I’m fine.” Her raspy voice is so quiet I can barely hear it. Her lip quivers as she stands there, and I can see the way her breathing is picking up. Oh no, oh no, oh no.  

I hear the door to the bathroom open. Turning around, I shoot Josh a look. He makes eye contact with me as I bounce my eyes to Charlotte and back to him. I watch as he glances at her quickly, his eyes widening as if to say, ‘Do what you need to.’

I come out from behind the bar, grabbing her bag from the barstool it sat on. 

“Come with me,” I whisper to her; she just nods in response. 

I gently place my hand on her back, guiding her down the hall to my office. Just long enough to round the corner into the small room, she lets out the tiniest whimper I’ve ever heard. I toss her bag onto the chair, facing her as she finally breaks down. Her hands fly up to hide her face as she lets out the most heartbreaking sound. One sob was enough for me; I pushed the door closed behind her and pulled her into me.  

“Oh, honey,” I let slip out, holding her small frame tight against me as she cried. I listen to her sobs against my chest as I run my hand down the back of her head, holding her close. I close my eyes to help focus my breathing; being in these situations never gets easier and I’ll never understand how I always end up in them. 

“Take a breath for me,” I said quietly, trying to stay calm for her. I can feel her take a deep breath and shakily release it. Her arms drop from her face, finding their way around my back. Grabbing at my shirt gently, like she’s afraid I'll let her go.  

“I’m right here. Take your time,” I whisper, pressing my lips gently to the top of her head, “You’re okay.” 

We spend a few minutes like this. I keep rubbing slow circles on her back, resting my face against the top of her head to keep her tucked in. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask. I feel her shake her head ‘no’ before turning her face and leaning back against me, reaching up to push the hair out of her face. She lets out another shaky breath. 

“I‘m so sorry,” she mumbles into me. 

“Don’t apologize for having emotions.” 

I lean back to look at her, her breathing starts to feel more normal.

She looks tired.

I don’t know what comes over me when I reach up, holding either side of her face and gently wiping the tear stains on her cheeks away. 

Our eyes finally met; she really was beautiful— crying or not. 

Her gaze doesn’t falter, her green eyes locked on me. She almost makes me nervous, not in a mean or intimidating way, but like I shouldn’t be allowed to look at someone who looks like her.

“Do you want to um-” I hesitate, “go get something to eat? While we talk about things. Not like a d-”

Despite her watery eyes, she huffs out a laugh.

“Stop,” she says, “I know what you mean. Yes, let’s do that.”

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We walked into the restaurant, and considering it’s only 4 p.m., it’s not very busy. I let her pick where we sit, following behind as she chose. She had a soft smile on her face as she claimed the booth seat like she just won a prize.  

“Hi, can I please have a Boulevardier? ” Charlotte politely orders, my eyebrows raised at her choice. 

“Actually, I’ll take the same thing,” I tell them, “Thank you.” 

Charlotte pulled out the paperwork, flipping through it to see what I had left. Watching her green eyes flit across them, setting aside anything that needs more attention. The way that she chews the inside of her lip while she’s reading is endearing. 

“Okay, so you haven’t missed too many things.” She tells me. 

“Oh good,” I start picking at my lip, “I’m sorry, I just didn’t realize how much was involved.” 

“That’s alright, Jacob. It’s a lot, and nobody generally explains this part of business to you.” Normally, I would cringe at my full name being used, but I just want her to keep saying it. 

She pulled out one of the papers and turned it to face me. She pointed at the part I hadn’t filled out. 

“So essentially, this means–” She begins explaining. Her eye contact is intense while she talks, which makes it incredibly hard to focus. I feel myself slowly smiling as she’s telling me. I glance at her mouth quickly, making it even more challenging to pay attention. 

“What?” 

Damnit. I raised my eyebrows with a small ‘mmm’. 

“You looked like you wanted to say something?” She questions. 

 “Oh, I’m sorry– no, I was just listening.” There are a lot of things I could say.

“Oh– Well, anyway,” she shakes her head a little before continuing to explain. 

I really wish that I could tell you what she’s explained to me at this point, but to be completely honest, I have no clue. I’ve been far too distracted by the freckles on her nose and the way her eyes twinkle under these lights. I can’t get over the green of her eyes, with subtle gold flecks in them. Her hair is perfectly curled, and how the color of it stands out against her blazer.  She is unreal.

“Are you planning on doing that?” She asks, immediately pulling me out of my thoughts. 

“Yeah, absolutely.” 

“Great, Melody will really benefit from that,” she tells me. Benefit from what exactly?

“Do you need me to send you the information on that?” she quickly asks, grateful I’ll at least have context on what I’m agreeing to. 

“Please, if you could,” I say quietly as I rub my eyes.  

Our server stopped our conversation to take our order, giving me a second to try and refocus myself. She is trying to help you and isn’t being an asshole about it. The least you can do is pay attention to what she’s actually saying. Get it together.

“Okay anyway,” she starts again, “I think that’s everything?”  She sifts through the papers.

“Amazing,” I breathe out. “I’m sorry I made you come out here to help.” I sit back in my chair, my hands falling into my lap, where I quietly dig at the side of my thumb. 

“No, it’s okay, really,” she says, not making eye contact this time. “I was already in Portland, so it worked out.”

Her eyebrows pulled together as she told me, but I knew I shouldn’t ask. If she wanted to tell me what was wrong, she would. I’m not going to make her cry again.  

“Well, I’m glad I caught you at the right time then,” I say, offering a small smile. Her face softens a bit, and she leans forward, propping herself up. 

“So, how long ago did you buy the bar if it’s not even a year old?” 

“About two years ago, actually,” I tell her, “We took our time renovating it to feel right.” 

“We?” 

“All the boys helped me, but Josh really did the most with making it look the way it does.” I usually have no issue talking about the bar, but her being even vaguely interested has my brain stalling. 

“I love that. He did a good job curating,” she says, “Was the goal to be pirate-esque, or did it just end up that way?” 

I chuckle, “No, it was intentional. I’ve always enjoyed pirates, even as a kid, so I felt like it just made sense.”

“I think it’s nice that you made it your own. There are enough modern hipster bars in the area. It’s a refreshing thing to walk into.” 

Her compliment made my heart beat a little harder. I’m never one to assume, but she doesn’t strike me as someone who would hang out in a bar like mine. Granted, I guess I can’t really picture her hanging out in bars in general, but maybe that’s because I have always been a fan of the smaller, more dive bars. And I can confirm that I’ve never seen someone of her caliber in any of them. 

Once our food is brought out, I ask her about how she got into working for the state. We quietly chatted about some of the situations that she’d walked into, which unintentionally made me feel much better about my slip-up. But simultaneously, it made me realize how terrible men can be. I can’t imagine yelling at her regardless of what she told me. People are awful. 

The server brings over the check, and without hesitation, I slide my card into the little black folder and hand it back to them with a quiet, ‘Thank you.’  I bring my attention back over to her, her eyes a little wide but going back to normal as she continues telling me about another bar owner being a complete ass. 

I fill out the slip, leaving cash for the tip, before looking up at her.

“Ready?” I ask. She just nods a few times before sliding out of the booth. I wave my hand in front of me, “After you m’lady.” 

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“So, how far do you live from here?” I try to make some form of small talk on the way back to her car, avoiding the elephant in the room. 

“I live in Skowhegan, so it’s a little hike,” she tells me, looking around at the area’s architecture, “but my family has a house on Sebago Lake, so it’s not as bad when I have to come down here.” 

“Oh, I'm sure it’s peaceful over there.” I imagine how quiet that lake house must be this time of year. With minimal people vacationing or trying to fish on the lake, and it’s probably gorgeous in the mornings. 

“It really is,” she says, looking down at her feet for a second, “Do you live close?”

“I actually live above the bar,” I laugh every time I tell someone, “I know that probably seems ridiculous.” 

“Convenient, at least,” She giggles softly before looking at me with a smile. Oh, I’m gonna throw up. 

“It’s a blessing and a curse,” I tell her, “Blessing when you can just roll out of bed and run downstairs if you oversleep, but a curse when I find myself in there most days.. And nights.” Pointing at the crosswalk, nobody was coming; I placed my hand on the small of her back as I led her into the street, shit, carefully pulling my hand back as she stepped off the sidewalk. 

“You don’t get sick of being there?” 

“You would think so, but no. I love it, even if working with my brothers can be an absolute chore sometimes.” I tell her. 

She grabs my arm gently.

“I think that’s great, Jacob. It’s refreshing to hear someone love their job in this industry. It’s few and far between.” I glance over at her as she says it; my stomach has little knots forming as she squeezes my bicep a few times before pulling her hand back.  

She points to her car, parked just a short distance ahead of us. I see her pulling her keys from her bag as we approach it, unlocking the doors. I open her door for her, watching her face redden a little at the gesture. As she’s settling into her seat, I notice a brochure-looking paper in her passenger seat before realizing there’s a photo on the front. And a name. Oh my god, Charlotte. That’s why she was so upset. 

Setting her bag down in front of the pamphlet, she turned back to me with a soft smile, “How much should I send you for food?” 

“Don’t worry about it,” I tell her. 

“But, Jacob..” 

“It was my idea. I’m not going to make you pay for that.” Also, it’s the least I can do, especially now.

“Okay,” she sighs. “Well, thank you for the food and walking me back here. I’m pretty sure I would have gotten lost.” 

“Of course,” I tell her, “Drive safe.” 

I go to close her door for her, and I don’t know what possessed me when I hesitate, “Actually—” what are you doing? “Let me know when you make it home? Just since it’ll be a little later.” 

She nods subtly before saying, “Okay,” with a quiet laugh. 

I bite at my bottom lip as I smile at her, gently shutting her door for her. 

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“Now, where have you been?”

 I haven’t even made it fully behind the bar, and I’m already getting harassed.

“It’s nice to see you too, Linda,”  I laugh under my breath, “I had to take care of some paperwork, but I’m here now.” 

Raising an eyebrow, she looks from me to my right, where Josh stands with a shit-eating grin. Oh, fuck me. 

“And how was that paperwork, brother?” He says joyfully, emphasizing his skepticism with heavy air quotes. 

And, here we go. 

“The paperwork went well,”  I side-eye him, “Thank you for asking.”

I watched the two of them share a look before looking back at me, and all I offered was a shrug in response. 

“Why were you not in your office doing paperwork?” Linda questions as Eleanor joins her at the bar in their usual spots. 

“Who wasn’t in the office?” Eleanor chimes in. 

“Jake! He apparently went somewhere with someone to take care of paperwork,” Linda fills her in, like two school girls at lunch. 

Rubbing my hand across my face, I turn around to dry some glasses while I’m interrogated further. I should have known my being nice to her would have me questioned. 

“Well, that sounds like he went on a date,” Eleanor unknowingly agreeing with their past statements. Josh is the most enormous pain in my ass, I swear to god. 

“It wasn’t a date!” 

 Josh laughed, “That sounds like something someone who went on a secret date would say.” I feel my body warm the more they talk about my “date.” WHICH WASN’T A DATE. 

“Well, who paid?” Linda asks. 

“Uhh… I did,” I hesitated to answer. “But- it was my idea to go there, so I didn’t want to make her pay anything.” 

“Oh! You went with a girl?” Eleanor quietly questions.

“Yes, I needed help with some business stuff, and she was able to help me,” I tell her. “If she hadn’t come in so upset, I would have just been here the whole time.” 

The ladies look at each other and then back at me before Eleanor pipes back up, “So what you’re saying is, I just need to come in here crying to score a date with you?” 

A laugh falls out of me before I can even process what she’s said; at least someone has a sense of humor about all of this. 

“That’s very nice of you to take her to lunch to try and help cheer her up, sweetheart,” Linda tells me. I smile at her compliment before putting away some of the glasses I had been drying. I feel Josh’s presence before he says anything, just setting some dirty glasses in the bin below the counter. 

“Is she okay?” he whispers, leaning over to make sure nobody else heard. 

“I don’t know, honestly,” I tell him, knowing I sound a little panicked about it. 

“Did she say why she was upset?” 

I shake my head ‘no’ before leaning over, “I saw one of those printouts you get at funerals in her car, and she was wearing all black, so I’m assuming that she uh—” 

Josh covers his mouth and turns to look at me. If there’s one thing I know about my brother, it’s that he will absolutely empathize with anybody about anything. 

“Oh shit,” he murmurs under his breath. 

I can’t hide the look of concern on my face as we stare at each other for no more than a few seconds. 

“She’ll be alright. You probably just caught a wave of grief, is all.” Josh says, grabbing my arm and giving it a few squeezes. 

I let out a small breath. He’s right. She probably just hadn’t really let anything out, and I just asked the wrong question. 

“You’re right,” I whisper back, patting the back of his hand on my arm, “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”  But that isn’t going to stop me from worrying. 

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Business picked up shortly after that, with all the tables full and chatter loud. It kept me from my thoughts, which is probably for the best. I’m grateful that Linda and Eleanor came in tonight; they always keep me busy. 

I take small breaks from behind the bar to go check on the tables of people, collecting the empty glasses and bottles; sometimes, it’s nice to just mindlessly clean up. I spend a few minutes making small talk with some of the regulars, noticing the time as one of their phones lights up. 

11:30 p.m. already? Where did the night go?  I leave the table with a slight wave and head back to the bar to leave the dirty glasses. Setting them all on the back counter, I can tell Josh is caught up in whatever the ladies are telling him. 

Rounding the corner into the hall, I quickly lock myself away in the bathroom. Pulling my phone out immediately, relief washes over me when I see her name sitting in my notifications. Thank god. 

Charlotte: I made it home. Thank you again 

Jake: I’m happy to hear that and of course

Jake: I hope everythings okay.

Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I head back into the bar. She’s home, at least there’s that. 

“You can go if you want. I can handle the rest of the night,” I tell Josh quietly. He’s been here all day, and I definitely didn’t intend for him to cover the bar for that long. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Please, go get some sleep or call Quinn. Just get out of here while you can.” 

He hands me the towel he was using and mouths ‘thank you’ as he slides by me; I really can’t blame him for being excited to go to bed. It’s been a long day. 

The rest of the night seemingly flew by. A fair number of people, including Linda and Eleanor, left by 1 am, which meant I had to clock into my true Customer Service self for the last hour of the night. But it’s always nice when people start to trickle out early so that I can start cleaning up to close and make my life a little easier. 

I’m leaning against the back counter talking to the last few customers, and I can’t help but let my mind wander. What if she’s still upset? There’s nothing I can do to help that situation, and that’s okay. Maybe she just needs a friend right now. I could do that?  Or maybe she’s already told her friends, and Josh was right. Was she just having a moment? Oh god, what if she has a boyf- 

My phone vibrates, pulling my attention away from my internal spiral.  1:57 a.m. Thank god.

Charlotte: It will be, i’m sorry that you had to witness that.

Jake: don’t apologize, i’m glad i was able to help..i hope?

Charlotte: It did help, truly. 

That makes my heart feel a little weird. Don’t get ahead of yourself. 

Jake: well.. if you need anything, let me know? 

I set my phone down underneath the bar and started printing the tabs for the last customers who were sitting. I went through the motions as I put the papers out front of each of them with a pen. I watch as they sign on the line, possibly leaving a tip; either way, I’m not bothered. Leaving with a friendly ‘Have a good one,’ I follow behind them, locking the doors and shutting off the neon lights. Happy to know that I have hardly anything left to do. 

The brisk air hits me as I lock the back door, and I practically run up the stairs. Opening the door, it’s quiet. He must be asleep then. I carefully walk through the apartment, cracking his door open to see him tucked away in bed. 

“Goodnight, Josh,” I whisper, pulling his door shut gently. 

I shut my door as softly as I could, immediately pulled my flannel off, and tossed it on the end of my bed. Followed by my jeans before I grab my phone from my nightstand. 2:34 a.m. I open my messages to see her name sitting there with the blue, unread messages dot glowing back at me. 

Charlotte: I may take you up on that.

Why is she still awake? It’s so late. 

Jake: I hope you do

Be more obvious, Jake, come on.. 

Jake: Also why are you still up? lol

It changes from ‘delivered’ to ‘read’ almost instantly. I watch the typing bubbles pop up, making my stomach turn. 

Charlotte: I just haven’t been tired enough to sleep, but I think I’m getting there.

Jake: After everything, I figured you’d be exhausted

Charlotte: You would think lol 

Dropping my phone next to me. I rub my hands down my face. Trying to get the look on her face just before she cried out of my mind. ‘I’m so sorry’ in her sad little voice, playing on a loop. The sounds of her sobs against my chest, her shaking in my arms. I almost wish that I didn’t know why she was upset now. 

Jake: well don’t let me keep you up

This time, my message sat on delivered for a few minutes. I did my daily scroll on mindless apps and looked at the few new photos people had tagged the bar in before she replied. 

Charlotte: You’re not a bother at all, but I should probably try to sleep before it gets too much later.

Charlotte: Goodnight Jacob

My mind ran through all the ways that I could reply. How I’d love to tell her that I’m sorry for her loss and that I hope everything gets better. Even that, I had a lovely time talking to someone outside of my family and their partners for more than a few minutes as I served them a beer. It felt like we could be friends even, with the way she didn’t seem phased by any of the vaguely nerdy things I said. Unfortunately, my hands settled on something more straightforward, and I quickly hit ‘send.’

Jake: sleep well, Charlotte 

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Chapter Four

Chapter Six

FDOG Masterpost | Masterlist | FDOG Playlist

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[steddieasitgoes]

Pulling triple duty with this one.

Written for @steddiemas Day 29: Holiday Parties and @thefreakandthehair Spicy Six Winter Fanworks Challenge. It's also a holiday sequel to my big bang fic Signed, Sealed Delivered, I'm Yours

My prompt for the Winter Fanworks Challenge was: “If I wear that sweater to work, my boss will kill me."

Tags: Established relationships, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Mailman Steve, Platonic Soulmate Steve Harrington & Robin Buckley, Slice of Life

wc: 4003 | Rating: T

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

The Brookbridge Post Office holiday party is a tradition that dates back long before Steve joined the ranks. Every year Warren splurges on renting out a private room at a restaurant or banquet hall before passing all the planning off to his assistant of the month. The only rule, as far as Steve’s aware, is that it has to be tied to some charity organization so that he can write the whole thing off later.

This year is no different as the invitation he finds shoved into his work locker has the Toys for Tots logo front and center. What is different is the attire section that requests all guests break out their best holiday sweaters for the occasion.

Steve’s not sure what constitutes a holiday sweater, but he has a closet full of knit red and green ones that’ll surely work. No sweat off his back. Especially since he’s also done with the toy shopping.

The holiday party isn’t Steve’s favorite way to spend a random Saturday in December, but he always sucks it up and goes. Usually drags Robin along with him so they can stand in the corner getting drunk off free drinks while making fun of Tommy and his gang of mini-me’s as they try to hit on everyone’s plus ones.

It’s not the highlight of their holiday season by any means, but it's a tradition they’ve had going for years now. One he’s not sure he wants to break this year even though he could take Eddie as his romantic plus one. Which is exactly what he tells Robin during their Saturday movie marathon.

They’re sprawled out on the couch, Dumpster between them, with Christmas Vacation playing in the background. They’ve seen it enough times to quote the entire thing from memory so neither minds the interruption. It’s not like they ever actually watch movies on their Saturday movie afternoons anyway.

“Are you kidding me, Steve?” Robin snorts, lobbing a pillow at his head. “Of course, you’re taking Eddie!”

“But we always go together.”

“Only because you never have a date!”

“So, what? You’ve been going all these years as my pity plus one?” Steve asks, nudging her with his knee.

“I’m sorry, did you think I liked hanging out in some stuffy banquet hall listening to Hagan and his little groupies try to hit on me?”

“Don’t forget the year Warren hit on you.” Robin retches, startling Dumpster from her slumber. The cat yawns before slowly climbing off the couch and down the hallway in search of somewhere quieter to sleep.

“Take Eddie. It’ll be fun!”

“Don’t you think two months of dating is too soon to be taking him to work events?”

This time it’s Robin’s bony knee that jabs into the meaty flesh of his thigh.“Jesus, Robs,” he hisses, pulling the hem of his shorts up to check for instant bruising.

“You’re dumber than I thought if you really think you and Eddie have only been dating for two months. What about all those months before, huh?” Steve doesn’t say anything, just rolls his eyes in silent protest. She’s not wrong, but she’s not right either. “Besides, it’s not like he hasn’t already met some of the people from work when he goes to the post office.”

“I mean, yeah, I guess you’re right,” Steve sighs. Still, there’s something lingering in the pit of his stomach. A gnawing, unpleasant weight that he can’t shake. He takes a moment to collect his thoughts before he brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Tommy’s going to be there, though.”

The same Tommy who has been a Grade-A douchebag since getting removed from Steve’s route and put back on sorter/greeter duty. Steve’s not sure why he doesn’t just quit if he’s so miserable but every day he finds himself on the receiving end of a lackluster death glare.

Also, the same Tommy who gave Eddie the nickname “Mr. Dreamy.” The same Tommy who relentlessly hit on Eddie until he finally got thrown out of his house once and for all.

The same Tommy who has no idea that the guy Steve is seeing, because yes, Tommy knows Steve is seeing someone and teases him about it daily, is said, Mr. Dreamy.

Bringing Eddie into that is a recipe for disaster. One Steve’s not sure he even wants to subject himself to, let alone Eddie.

“On second thought,” Robin says, scrambling to sit up. “Can you take two guests? I will suffer the gross gazes and bad pick-up lines of your male coworkers just so I can see Hagan’s face fall when he realizes you’re dating the guy he was after.”

Steve laughs despite himself, shaking his head. If there’s one thing Robin loves, it’s being a fly on the wall for some good, old-fashioned drama.

📬 🎄 📬

With Robin officially denying his plus-one invitation, Steve sets out to ask Eddie.

It’s not a big deal in the grand scheme of things, he knows this, but something about it also feels like a Big Deal — with a capital B and D. Sure, they’ve branched out from their routine lunch dates — they have a standing Sunday brunch double date with the girls and make a point to go out at least once during the week, plus Steve regularly stops by the shop now, but it's different inviting Eddie to go to a work event with him.

It’s another step in their relationship.

One toward a more permanent future and Steve doesn’t want to fuck it up by scaring Eddie away.

So he spends a week testing the waters. Asks Eddie about his holiday plans over Toasty Treats’ legendary holiday turkey sandwich on Tuesday. Brings up Tommy’s latest fuck up over chili leftovers on Thursday to gage Eddie’s feelings about him (“Jesus H. Christ he really is an idiot,” he laughs, clearly poking fun, but not in the teasing way he does with Steve that always makes his cheeks heat up). During brunch on Sunday, he goads Robin into sharing a fun anecdote from last year's party where one too many cocktails had her and Steve taking over the karaoke machine serenading guests all night with off-key renditions of Christmas carols.

When Steve steals a glance at Eddie he finds him smiling and laughing along with the story.

And just like that the seed is planted.

Steve finally gets the courage to ask the question he’s been dancing around for a week on Tuesday over leftover Chinese takeout.

“Course I’ll be your plus-one, Stevie,” Eddie answers mouthful of Chow-Mien. “I’ll be your plus-one anytime, anywhere, any—”

“Alright, you sap,” Steve laughs, leaning over the table to steal a kiss.

“Does this mean I’m finally going to see the back room where the mail sorter fairies work?”

“Unfortunately not. The party’s at the banquet hall in town.”

“Dammit,” Eddie sighs.

“Oh, and you have to wear a Christmas sweater.”

“Love me a good theme!”

📬 🎄 📬

Turns out, what Steve considers a Christmas sweater is very different from what Eddie considers a Christmas sweater. A fact he’s currently in the midst of learning as he glances around Eddie’s bedroom.

“Stevie, sweetheart, love of my life,” Eddie says, clasping his hands in front of him as he rocks on the balls of his feet. “That is not a Christmas sweater.”

Steve glances down at the knit sweater he’s wearing before fisting the hem and pulling it away from his chest to get a better look. He’s not sure what Eddie’s talking about. It’s totally a Christmas sweater!

“Yeah it is, Eds,” he defends. “It has a reindeer and a tree on it. That’s pretty Christmas.”

Eddie gawks for a moment before scrubbing a hand down his face. Steve knows he only does that when he’s frustrated so he braces for whatever he’s going to say.

“Objectively speaking, yes, it is a Christmas sweater. But it’s also not a Christmas sweater.”

This time it’s Steve who gawks at Eddie. He’s used to Eddie getting worked up over random things, but this is a new one. “Okay Christmas Sweater expert, what is an appropriate Christmas sweater then.”

“I’m glad you asked,” Eddie grins before stalking over to the pile of clothes on his bed. He shuffles through the clothes for a moment, tossing a few shirts to the wayside before he shouts victoriously and turns around clutching a red sweater in his hands. “Now this is a Christmas sweater.”

Steve can’t help the cackle that escapes him the minute his eyes land on the sweater. It’s a red monstrosity with an upside-down snowman sprawled out over the entire thing. A plastic carrot of some sort protrudes off and hanhs low, blending with the tinsel on the hat and two blue ornament balls that also dangle low

“If I wear that sweater to work, my boss will kill me,” Steve says through laughter.

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad!”

“Eddie!” Steve squawks, brows knitted together. “It’s literally a dick and balls!”

“Warren is a buzz kill,” Eddie sighs, tossing the sweater aside. Without another word, he reaches for another sweater from the mess on his bed and turns around. “What about this one?”

This one is green with a gingerbread man smiling in the middle. It looks innocent enough except for the fact that the gingerbread has bloodshot eyes and the words “let’s get baked” are stitched in big white letters followed by a marijuana leaf.

“Are you trying to get me fired? Again!”

“Hey,” Eddie scolds playfully. “I didn’t get you fired, I got you demoted. And we agreed it was both our fault. Don’t be putting the blame on me! Besides I’m just sticking with the theme.”

“Baby, the theme is Christmas sweaters not whatever this is,” Steve says waving his hands in the air.

“These are Christmas sweaters.”

“I mean, yeah, they’re technically Christmas sweaters but they’re not appropriate!” Steve laughs. “Where did you even find them?”

“Are you forgetting I work with artists all day? Me and the guys make them.”

“You made these?” Steve asks, snatching the sweater from his hands to get a better look.

Up close it's easier to tell that they’re homemade. The stitches are slightly askew, a missing thread or two here and there. Overall though they’re store-like quality. He didn’t even know Eddie could sew let alone sew an entire inappropriate Christmas sweater. If the tattooing thing doesn’t work out, maybe he and the Hellfire guys should start a clothing line.

“That’s pretty impressive actually.”

“So, does that mean you’ll wear one?”

“To my work party? Absolutely not,” Steve laughs.

“Come on,” Eddie whines. “Nowhere on that invite does it say it has to be appropriate!”

“I’m pretty sure it’s implied! Maybe you can get away with that at the shop's holiday parties, but Brookbridge is full of stuck-up employees. Warren might be sleeping with his assistant but I don’t think he’ll appreciate this,” Steve says, lifting the gingerbread sweater.

“I guess that means I should change then.”

“Wait, you’re wearing one of these right now?” Eddie nods, coaxing another chuckle from Steve. “What does yours look like?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

With eyes shining with mirth and that crooked smile, Steve loves so much, Eddie slowly peels off his leather jacket revealing the Christmas sweater he’s been wearing. It’s hunter-green and looks incredibly soft to the touch. Unfortunately, the words “Well Hung” are stitched in a bright green across the chest. Four baubles are stitched on underneath in various sizes trying their best to make the phrase Christmas-appropriate instead of the innuendo it is.

“Oh my god,” Steve wheezes, doubling over in laughter. It takes him a minute to compose himself and when he does Eddie is standing there beaming with pride. “S’clever and definitely true.” Eddie’s smile grows even wider at that. “But yeah, I think you should change, baby.”

“Ugh, you’re no fun,” Eddie groans.

“Hey, I’m plenty fun,” he says, quickly closing the distance between them. Steve gets his hands on Eddie, wrapping them around his middle and pulling him flush with his chest before searing a kiss to his lips. “But I don’t want to give Tommy any ideas. Don’t think he’d back off if he saw you advertising yourself like this.”

Eddie hums in consideration before reluctantly agreeing. Wiggling out of Steve’s grasp, he yanks the sweater off and tosses it onto the bed with the other rejected sweaters. Then, he sulks over to his closet to search for another sweater. A few minutes pass, nothing but the sounds of plastic hangers clanging against the metal rod filling the room before Eddie turns around with a huff.

“So, turns out I don’t have any appropriate Christmas sweaters.”

Steve laughs, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, I have a spare lying around. We’ll just stop by my place before heading over.”

📬 🎄 📬

They get intercepted by Debbie as they’re trying to leave, costing them an extra ten minutes they don’t have to spare. That added with the detour to Steve’s place and the inevitable quickie that follows when they realize Robin isn’t home makes them an hour late to the party.

But it’s not a big deal. Hardly anyone but Betty even realizes they’re late. And the only reason she notices is because she’s smoking outside the door when they get there.

“You clean up nice,” she says like she does every holiday party. Tossing the cigarette to the floor, she snubs it out with the toe of her boots before slowly dragging her eyes up Eddie. “You do too, Eddie, right?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m Eddie. And thank you, ma’am.”

Betty tsks, waving her hand in the air. “None of this ma’am crap. Just Betty is fine. Steve’s told me lots about you. Have you made a decision on that P.O. Box yet?”

Steve has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from snorting. That day doesn’t leave the best taste in his mouth considering how it ended, but it did start out with a lot of promise.

“Oh, uh, I don’t think it’s for me. S’much easier to have my mail delivered to me. Especially when he’s doing it.”

Betty glances at Steve and gives him another slow once over before winking at the both of them. “M’sure it is,” she laughs. “You boys better get in there. Don’t want to miss the fun.”

📬 🎄 📬

The banquet hall is decorated just as it always is. A giant Christmas tree sits in the middle. A handful of tables surround a small dance floor. There’s a buffet of food on one end, the donation table on the other. A small band is set up on stage, serenading the crowd with a mix of Top 40s and holiday hits. No karaoke machine this year much to Eddie’s chagrin.

After a round of drinks, Steve gets to mingling, introducing Eddie to the handful of coworkers he actually likes. The introductions are brief and his co-workers are quick to share embarrassing stories about Steve’s early days on the job with Eddie who listens and laughs along.

Eventually, Warren finds them, his wife draped lovingly on his arm while his assistant throws daggers his way from the bar. Steve puts on his best smile and expertly navigates the small talk, making a point to compliment Warren’s wife and joke about her being out of his league. Warren’s quick to excuse the both of them after that.

“He gives me the creeps,” Eddie shivers, watching as he guides his wife through the sea of people with a hand on the small of her back all the while making eyes with his assistant across the room.

“He’s definitely a douchebag,” Steve agrees.

He takes a sip of his drink as he scans the room. They’ve been here for almost two hours now and he hasn’t spotted Tommy once. Usually, he’s the center of attention at these things. Dancing up a storm and making it a point to flirt with everyone’s plus ones. Maybe he’s already staked his claim on someone and is getting lucky in the bathroom, Steve thinks before shaking the thought from his head. Who is he kidding, Tommy doesn’t have that kind of luck.

If he’s honest with himself, he’s sort of bummed that Tommy hasn’t made his presence known to him yet. Not because he wants to see him, he’d be happy going the rest of his life without having to share the same room with the guy, but because he wants to show Eddie off. And, okay, maybe he also wants to see Tommy’s face fall like Robin wanted to.

📬 🎄 📬

Steve is swaying with Eddie on the dance floor when the devil that is Tommy shithead Hagan finally materializes. He’s beyond tipsy, uneven on his feet, and freckled face flushed redder than Steve’s ever seen it. His eyes are glossy and his lips are curled in a way that sends alarm bells blaring in Steve’s head.

Trouble is afoot.

Afoot? Christ he’s spending too much time with Eddie.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Harrington.” He practically spits before whipping his head to stare at Eddie. “And oh, look what the postman dragged in. Yesterday’s mail!”

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, taking a step toward Tommy. He gives Steve a mischievous look before cocking his head to the side as he gives Tommy his full attention. “Do I know you?”

“Oh don’t play coy in front of your little boy toy, darling,” Tommy slurs, reaching out to rest a hand on Eddie’s shoulder.

It takes all the strength in Steve’s body not to reach out and yank his arm away. Thankfully, Eddie does it for him, shrugging the offending hand off with more force than necessary.

“Oh come on,” Tommy scoffs, more of a whine than anything else. “Don’t pretend like we didn’t have the best times when Harrington got himself demoted. What’s it like getting my sloppy seconds, Harrington?”

“Watch it, Tommy,” Steve scolds, taking a step closer to Hagan. He’s not going to make a scene, he’s not. But he’s also not going to stand here and let him talk about Eddie like that.

Eddie scoffs, shaking his head. “If I’m anyone’s sloppy seconds I’m Steve’s. And they are very sloppy if you catch my drift.”

Steve bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He knows he shouldn’t encourage this, but it's hard to be the bigger person when Tommy is standing right there purposely antagonizing him for his own gain. Sue him for wanting to play the game just a little.

“Sorry, Tommy, but Eds here is right,” Steve says, placing a delicate hand on Eddie’s shoulder before squeezing it. “Don’t you remember, I got demoted for hooking up with a “bombshell” in the van? Well, guess what, you’re looking at him.”

“That— that’s not what happened,” Tommy says, directing his words at Steve, not Eddie. “You weren’t with him! Aaron said you were with…”

Steve watches the metaphorical gears turning in Tommy’s head as he trails off. Can tell the moment things start clicking. He really had no clue that the guy Steve had been seeing was Eddie. Steve watches the stunned look spread across his face the same way it spread across his all those months ago when he caught Tommy leaving Eddie’s place. The gross realization that they actually do have the same type after all.

“Why don’t you keep moving Hagan,” Steve says, nodding his head in the opposite direction.

“Nah, I think I’m good right here, actually,” he says, confidence returning.

This guy just doesn’t know when to quit.

“Tommy seriously,” Steve tries again. “Go bother someone else. We’re not interested.”

“Oh, so you’re speaking for him now too?”

“Please,” Eddie scoffs. “You know I’m not interested in you. Never have been and never will be.”

That does it.

Steve sees the moment Tommy’s confident facade breaks. The rosiness of his cheeks grows into an angry red, flooding his body. His eyes, once glossy, are now laser-sharp and squinted. His fingers curl into fists at his side as he readies himself.

Steve’s faster though, stepping in front of Eddie at the same moment Tommy lunges. It would be easy to put an end to this once and for all. Give Tommy the gift of a black eye or bruised rib with one skilled punch that Steve would love to throw. But Tommy shithead Hagan isn’t worth losing his job for, so he reigns in his own anger and instead gets his palms on Tommy’s chest to hold him back.

“Don’t be stupid, Hagan,” Steve says. “Warren’s watching. Do you really want to lose your job for good this time?”

The words are supposed to knock some sense into the guy, calm him down. But it does the opposite, riling him up even more until Steve can practically feel his skin vibrating under his hands. Thankfully, Aaron and the rest of his minions are there in an instant, pulling him away and holding him back.

They try their best to calm him down but Steve can see Tommy’s anger growing by the second. He’s only seen him this angry once before — two months ago when Warren removed him from the route. He doesn’t need to see an encore performance so instead he reaches for Eddie’s hand and drags them away from the impending doom.

📬 🎄 📬

“Part of me still thinks you should have let him have it,” Eddie laughs, shoveling a mouthful of chocolate chip pancakes into his mouth.

“Tommy’s not worth it.”

“I would have been so pissed if I missed you deck him,” Robin says, working her way through her own mountain of pancakes.

“That’s the real reason you didn’t punch him, isn’t it?” Eddie teases.

“Oh yeah,” Steve deadpans, rolling his eyes. “Promised Robin I wouldn’t punch anyone unless she was there to witness it.”

“Does she also have to refrain from punching people,” Chrissy asks.

Robin shakes her head. “Why? Is there someone I need to punch in your honor?”

“Not yet,” Chrissy says, nuzzling into her side. “But if Eddie makes us go to the Birchwood Holiday party in these tonight, you might need to. Debbie’s nephew is in town and he keeps staring at me from the window.”

“Again with the sweaters,” Eddie huffs, letting his fork clatter to the table. “They’re cozy and hilarious. You guys are just boring! Besides, people are going to love my sweater. You’ll see. They’re going to be all the rage one day.”

“Debbie already thinks they are,” Chrissy giggles. “I saw her wearing the one that says “I’m So Good Santa Came Twice” the other day while she was taking out the trash.”

“You gave Debbie one?” Steve shouts, nearly spitting out his orange juice in the process. Robin does spit out her drink, through her nose as usual as she chokes on her own laughter.

“She cornered me and I panicked! I didn’t think she’d wear it!”

“Look on the bright side, Eddie,” Robin says between shrieks of laughter. “With Debbie’s help, every suburban mom in Brookbridge will be walking around in one by next Christmas.”

“It’s a good thing you know a great delivery man,” Steve teases. “Because they’re going to be flying off the shelves.”

“I’ve made a terrible mistake,” he groans.

As the table erupts into another fit of laughter, Steve can’t help but tug Eddie towards him before giving him a soft, syrup-infused kiss. And if he whispers something about feeling inspired by the inappropriate sweater Eddie’s picked out for him to wear later, well, that’s between him and Eddie and whoever’s bedroom they end up in when they leave Murray’s.

Besides, he still owes him for not punching Tommy himself at that holiday party.

And Steve always delivers.

[rorywritesjunk]

I can’t tell where the journey will end But I know where to start

Prequel to my Kid Buggy fic, set about 11-ish years before that story.

Buggy meets you by chance when he needs his buttons sewn back onto his jacket. He’s young, up and coming, and he thinks everyone should cower before him wherever he goes, but all you do is smile at him.

Rating: PG-13ish just for some swearing. Warning: Buggy’s in his early 20s. I also gave him some anxiety and stuff because while he’s in love he doesn’t believe someone could love him back. He just has a lot of uncertainty with romance. Mawwiage happens. Alcohol is mentioned. Everyone’s having a good time. A/N: The epilogue! Enjoy. I am not done with these two in the sense I'll do more one-shots and the likes for them as well as AUs with Buggy's older sister and The Wives. Thank you to everyone who's been reading this! Enjoy!

Title comes from “Wake Me Up” by Avicii.

TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @ane5e @kingofthemfingpirates @the-angriest-angel @tiredemomama @valen-yamyam16 @i-reblog-fics-i-like @plethora-of-fickleness @uhnanix

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 + Chapter 16 + Chapter 17 + Chapter 18 + Epilogue

Epilogue

The marriage was far from perfect.

Your first actual fight showed Buggy you were capable of not speaking to him for an entire week. It was regarding one of Mohji’s animals, a bear that fell ill and passed away. You had been upset for both the loss of the animal and Mohji; the boy loved that bear so much. All Buggy suggested was that you not… cry so much over it. That was it, suck it up and move on. It was just a bear.

He was on his knees begging for your forgiveness by the end of the week.

Then there was the time you accidentally cut up his favorite shirt. He had left it for days on the scrap fabric pile you collected in the bedroom and asked him many times if he was sure that shirt needed to be there. He had insisted it was, but a week after you cut it up into scraps to patch some of the crew’s clothes, Buggy asked about it. You both needed to work on more than verbal communication.

And a few years into the marriage, Buggy was feeling less like you were going to leave him for every person who talked to you that he was pretty relaxed - a little too relaxed because for your birthday he took you to a pub, got a little drunk, and made a comment about how hot the barmaid was. You weren’t mad, more amused by it, but when you reminded him the next day when he sobered up what he said, he was mortified.

You were leaving him for sure for that, he was certain of it.

On his birthday you disappeared for a day on an island you begged to be dropped off at. Buggy caved, wanting to do anything for you in hopes you would forget how he acted like an ass on your birthday again. Maybe you just needed a break from him, even if it was on his birthday. 

You came back after meeting up with Kuro and oh, oh the divorce was inevitable now. You had told him a few days after your birthday when he had a meltdown over how he acted and he begged for you to tell him if there was any man or pirate alive that you would have been with other than him and… that fucking cat pirate was the one you chose. Oh, he was handsome and he dressed so sharply, and you felt you had bragging rights over how well he dressed because he was your first true customer that you had repeated business with.

It was a dagger to Buggy’s heart, over and over and over again. 

“What’s got you so upset?” You asked when he stopped responding, slumped on the floor with an almost empty bottle of rum beside him. You moved the bottle and knelt beside him, touching his shoulder. “You feel okay, honey?”

“Are you leaving me for Kuro?” He whimpered, refusing to look at you because he just knew the answer. You’d be happier with a better dressed pirate than with Buggy. It was startling when you chuckled and kissed him on the cheek.

“No, no. I’m not leaving you for cat-boy.” You told him as you tried to coax him to look at you. “I was getting your birthday present, Buggy, to show you how much I love you.”

He sniffled, lifting his head to see you taking your shirt off. A look of confusion crossed his face as you turned yourself to show him your arm, revealing a tattoo of his jolly roger. 

“This isn’t your only present, y’know, I’m gonna make you a feast.” You said as he sat up quickly, trying to get a closer look, but the alcohol was hitting him and he slumped against you, looking up with large, watery eyes as you stroked his cheek gently. “I love you, Buggy, and I’m never leaving you.”

That… that helped. He felt better after that, though still had doubts.

~

The conversation about kids was… not what he anticipated. He thought you’d want kids right away, he saw how you were around children, how your eyes lit up at the family gatherings each year when you got to see all the kids(he loved the look of horror each year on your aunt’s face when the two of you showed up, she didn’t expect the marriage to last). He watched you pick up your cousin’s baby - he was two years younger than you and his wife just had their first kid. Your eyes lit up and Buggy watched your face soften with a smile he hadn’t seen before. 

He waited until you two were alone to ask. To his surprise you snorted at his question and gave him a kiss. “Not just no, but hell no.” 

“Wait, what?”

“Buggy, I like what we have now. Maybe someday we can have cute little kids but not right now.” You told him as you patted his cheeks gently. “And I don’t think we’re ready at all. Kids can be a discussion in a few years, okay?”

“Oh thank God.” Buggy sighed as he slumped against you, wrapping his arms around you and tightening them around you. “I can’t deal with that right now.”

You laughed softly and kissed him again, wrapping your arms around his neck as you leaned against him. “Neither can I, honey.” You smiled and looked up at him, pulling him down and bumping your forehead against his gently before kissing the tip of his nose. “I love you, Buggy. Thank you for talking to me about this.”

He blushed but didn’t look away as he hugged you. “Love you too, babe.”

~

It was a yearly thing for him to drink and reminisce about the good ol’ days as an apprentice on Roger’s crew. It was always the anniversary of his former captain’s execution. The first time you witnessed it he didn’t explain it to you, just grabbed bottles and bottles of alcohol to drink with the crew while you waited for an explanation on why this was happening. It wasn’t until you wrangled him to bed after he was strutting around the ship, saying he was still a great swimmer even though he was a Devil Fruit power. Before he could jump over the ship to demonstrate this, you grabbed him by the back of the pants and dragged him to the bedroom for him to sober up and explain. 

Buggy slumped on the bed, not bothering to take his shoes off so you helped him. He giggled, face lighting up as you helped get him comfortable for the night.

“I got the best wifey.” 

“And I have the best hubby.” You chuckled as you glanced up at him. “Can you tell me now what the drinking is for?”

“I drink to my captain!” Buggy told you excitedly, pumping his fist up to the air. “H-He was executed on this day eight years ago! I drink in his honor and to hi-his memory!”

“Oh.” 

You didn’t question him further, just made sure he was comfortable that night. The years going forward, you made sure he was safe, had a reasonable amount of alcohol, and put him to bed. He never talked about it the next day, either because he didn’t want to or didn’t remember, you weren’t sure but you figured if he wanted to talk he would. 

~

You were eleven years into this marriage. It… it was fine. It wasn’t too exciting, nor was it incredibly boring. It was just fine for you. Buggy let you take on certain roles on the ship, mostly just making sure everyone looked their best in their clothes so long as he was the best dressed. He trusted you weren’t leaving him any longer, which made it easier for you to slip out of bed in the morning to start breakfast for the two of you.

It was just right.

This morning was no different. He had his fill of alcohol the night before at the local pub with some of the crew, leaving you on the ship for a peaceful night. Buggy managed to stumble his drunken self back to the ship without falling into the water. He was sleeping off the alcohol, head under the covers as he laid curled up next to you. You woke up with him in your arms, but you managed to slip away from him. You were going to wait to start breakfast, wanting to run out to the shops first to pick up some goods before the crowds started.

Buggy stirred, peeking out from under the blankets with a grumpy expression as you got dressed. He lifted his head up just a bit before letting it fall back on the pillows. “What’re you doing?”

“Getting dressed.” You told him, keeping your voice soft as you pulled your shirt on. “I’m going to get some things. Any special requests?”

Buggy nodded, mumbling something under the blankets. You walked over and pulled them back just enough for him to mutter it to you, asking for some apples and peanut butter. He finished the last jar a week ago and had been wanting it. You rolled your eyes and kissed him on the forehead. You needed to buy two and hide them from him, apparently the last jar wasn’t hidden well enough.

“I’ll grab that for you. Anything else?”

“D’you hafta go?” He whined softly. “I want cuddles.”

“I’ll be back, honey.” You assured him as you made sure the blankets were keeping him covered. “I’ll have breakfast ready for you when you wake up, okay?”

“Promise?” 

“Promise I’ll have breakfast-”

“Promise you’ll be back?” He lifted his head again, pouting up at you. 

“Oh, of course I’ll be back.” You chuckled softly as you kissed his forehead. “I’ll be gone for a few hours, honey, but I’ll be back.” 

He frowned sleepily but nodded, settling back down under the blankets. You gave his shoulder a squeeze and tucked the blankets around him once more before you grabbed your wallet and headed out. It shouldn’t take too long to collect what you needed, but you were excited to be at this village. You hadn’t been there in over twenty years and you wondered if there had been any changes to it.

And you enjoyed walking around as you collected your goods, putting them in your bags and basket as you chatted with the vendors about what they were selling, how the weather had been lately, just little things that weren’t related to piracy. You loved your life but having a conversation that wasn’t about what Richie had eaten the night before to upset his stomach was nice. 

Your last stop was for peanut butter which you found in a little shop near the docks. It was a cute little place, selling all kinds of tasty ingredients and foods, but you only bought the peanut butter, knowing you could easily go broke buying all the fancy ingredients in the shop. Maybe if Buggy ever became incredibly rich and had lots of treasure you could think of something like that.

You bid farewell to the shopkeep as you stepped out of the shop, not watching where you were going. Something bumped into you, startling you, and when you turned to apologize, your voice caught in your throat. As far as you were aware, you were very sober so what was this you were seeing in front of you?

“Hey, watch it!” The kid in front of you snapped, glaring daggers up at you. His blue hair and bright red nose was very familiar to you.

Oh, oh no, what was going on?

[moontyuns]

hey sunny ♡ your theme is really cute and I read thru the prompts and thought why not :> could I req the dialogue “I think I deserve a kiss” with the action of ‘ kisses with a height difference - one leaning down while the other is on their tiptoes ’ with beomgyu please? <3 thank you, and I hope you have a good day!! ^^

Word count: 0.6k Pairing: beomgyu x reader Genre: fluff Rating: PG-13 Warnings: mentions of food 

Kiss prompts game; “I think I deserve a kiss” x ‘ kisses with a height difference - one leaning down while the other is on their tiptoes ’ x beomgyu

a/n: hey smiles, thank you!! I’m so sorry it took me so long to write it :( it’s not the best piece but i still hope you like it! <3

It’s been tough times recently, the exams hitting you like crazy. Lots of tasks and things need to be done, and you feel like you lost count of days and hours while sitting in the library and collecting the information for the upcoming exam. You rarely see and speak to your friends and to your boyfriend too, your only thought is that within a few weeks, you will finally be free and go on the date you planned out a while ago. However, now you should concentrate on every one of your brain cells to remember the information from these stupid books. With every word you read, the letters got blurry, so you decided that it’s finally time to take a break and go out to find some snacks since the last time you ate something was in the early morning and now it’s afternoon, you definitely need something to calm your stomach. 

You packed your things and left some books on the table, notified the librarian prior that you would be back soon so she would leave the books in the same spot. Once you step out to the hall you hear the ding of the notification and snatch your phone out of your pocket. It’s Beomgyu and he wanted to know how busy you are, so you typed that you just decided to take a break to get something to eat and all he said was “Great! Then come outside to our usual spot”. You two have your favorite table in the dining area outside the building, it’s placed perfectly under the shade of the building and further from other tables that are usually full of students. 

After a few minutes, you arrived at the spot and found there Beomgyu waiting for you and some tupperwares with food beside him. “Hey!” you call him and waved your hand as you came closer, and the boy gets up to greet you. “Hey, finally you came because I’m starving and feel like I can faint right here.” you giggled at his antics “Don’t over exaggerate it, Gyu.” you leaned closer to hug him, “What did you bring here?” you looked curiously at the tupperwares, you feel your stomach can grumble any second from hunger. “Well, it’s your favorite!! I went to this restaurant you like so much” he said and within a second your eyes lit up with eagerness to eat the food sooner and Beomgyu giggled at this sight, he was more than happy to see you smiling and this happy about such a simple thing as food, because recently you worked really hard. 

“Beomgyu, let’s eat!” you almost jumped to your seat but the hand on your wrist stopped you and you give the boy a questionable look. “Not that fast, you forget something,” he said and you squint your eyes confused about what does he mean by this. Beomgyu tapped his lips with his eyes directed to the opposite side “I think..I deserve a kiss, for bringing all of these”. You rolled your eyes and giggled “Okay, okay! Come here.” the boy came closer to you and leaned slightly forward while you stand on your tiptoes to be able to capture his sweet lips in a sugary kiss. Beomgyu deepens the kiss and soon you feel like you don’t have enough air in your lungs. Also, it’s hard to balance on your tiptoes even if your boyfriend’s hands circled around your waist. You pulled back and looked him in the eyes “Thank you, Gyu, I really appreciate that you do this for me.” you closed your eyes for a moment “But let’s finally eat because I guess now I really can faint if I won’t eat anything in the next few seconds” both of you laughed at your remark and took your seats on the bench.

Reblogs and likes are highly appreciated <3 Do not - steal / copy / repost / translate any of my works !

[jomeimei421]

hi do you have any more fic recs?? ive read everything you already recommended in the last post and i am Terrible at finding fics myself-

why yes indeed i do <(:]) spoilers for all of ORV under the cut! Here is a link to my other fic rec post for those who haven't seen it yet.

Mei's ORV Fic Recs 2: Electric Boogaloo

Looking for Yoo Joonghyuk by Je_te_veux

GEN, written for YJH's birthday. A canon compliant exploration of YJH's search to find the answers to who he is and what he should live for. Takes place during the epilogue. Again, JTV is a Chinese author so you will need to read their fics with material translation, but their writing is remarkable! I'm especially fond of the way they wrote YJH and Anna Croft, and also, I have a soft spot for things where YJH (who has had to carry the enormous burden of the Story for so long) finally gets to do some reading and writing of his own.

Love & Affection Do (Not) a Cat Make by featherx

Sangsoo, with a side of Joongdok. The misadventures of HSY (cat) and YJH (cat???). I have a special spot in my heart for this fic because cat HSY is written so hysterically well it has permanently affected my own characterization of HSY. Funny, charming, cute, but as with all things orv, has a very sweet and sad undertone.

Great Escapes by wyrvel

JDJ. YJH attempts to confess. KDJ does not make things easy for him. The calling card of a great jdj confession fic is a tasteful amount of KDJ brand tomfoolery, just enough to make you want to grab him and shake him like maracas. This fic accomplishes that with flying colors. It's written from YJH's pov, but you can just feel the gears turning and steam puffing out of KDJ's head. Op understands babygirl YJH. As a warning, this is the first part of a three fic series, the other two are NSFW.

Only I know how this show will end! by ineedacatchyname

YHK. Our favorite toxic polycule, now on live tv! A truly tremendous Love Island AU fic. My absolute favorite thing about this fic is that every time a character is introduced, there's a cutaway to their Love Island Love Interest Self Introduction Sexy Beach Montage Reel written in the style of a TV film script and every last one of them had me crying real tears. YSA is also excellent in this fic.

World's End Rhapsody by wakerife

JDJ, with a side of Sangsoo. This was one of the first orv fics I read, before I started bookmarking them; there's a really sweet scene of YJH reading that I couldn't get out of my head so I went on a hunt to find this fic again by searching through every single ORV fic tagged with "post-canon." A collection of KDJ recovery snippets, punctuated by some heartfelt jdj.

At Sea by ksalientian

YHK. The dead return from the sea, including KDJ. He doesn't come back exactly how they remember. Eerie, melancholy, and permeated with slow, enormous loss. There are some horror like elements in this fic, but it's more psychological than something that might make you squeamish. Yoohan are going through it. Fantastic fic!

I don't want to fall asleep just yet by featherx

GEN. Pre-canon. There's a ghost that lives inside of HSY's house. A short character study on the loneliness of a writer.

A New Story Written by pyrrhura

YHK. KDJ worries in the middle of the night about being responsible for a new story, and about being a father. Or, three idiots and baby. I love fics where yhk get their blissfully mundane happy ending, but op doesn't confuse that with forgetting the traumas and hardships of the past. Love the banter in this fic, and the way they just lean on one another without even thinking. As a warning, there are discussions of unplanned pregnancy in this.

Ain't Nobody Solving That Declining Birth Rate by dulcetair

YHK. KDJ is fresh out of a coma (broke) and YJH is a former terrorist (also broke.) The post-scenario government issues a cash incentive for people to get married. Or, the gang commits marriage fraud! Features YJH wearing a apron that says grillmaster on it. I was already a firm believer in YHK getting married for """tax benefits""" because it makes things easier for KDJ who is too embarrassed to admit anything otherwise, but the idea of HSY using Avatars to game the system and buy a three story house just for funsies is also incredibly in character.

What the Living Do by younglegends

GEN. Snapshots of mourning, loving, and longing from various KCom members' points of view. The chronological events of this fic are backwards, which makes for an interesting read. Younglegends hasn't written a lot of ORV stuff yet, but the two fics that they have so far are both downright phenomenal, and some of the best work I've seen in this community. They are also the author of the fic that I refused to spoil in the previous orv fic rec. Also, their YSA characterization is perfect.

That's all for now! Enjoy!

[sisterspooky1013]

Gaslight, Chapter 10/48

Rated X | Read it here on AO3

It’s Saturday. A day to sleep in, to take the morning slow, to spend time with family. They talked about the Farmer’s Market. They talked about ice cream at that new place downtown. They talked about taking the kids to a movie.

Dana lies in bed, awake, watching sunbeams move across the wall as 9am becomes 10am becomes 11am. She tells Cal she doesn’t feel well, that her stomach is bothering her, and he accepts it with concern and compassion. Pepto Bismol, Imodium, Tylenol, ginger ale, Saltines, and water materialize on her nightstand. She doesn’t even remember him coming into the room.

“Are you sick, Mommy?” Abby asks, and Dana nods glumly.

Abby brings her her very best bear, Mr. Boots. Peter brings her a spider in a cup, then smashes it when it tries to escape. She listens as the din fades into silence and the garage door opens and closes. She feels relieved to be alone in her torment.

They want her to forget. But forget what? And who are ‘they’? The man? Did he somehow compel her to forget him? Was it Cal? Is this all an elaborate way to move on from her affair? Why go back eight years? Eight years. Surely she hadn’t been carrying on that long.

Her mother. Does she know? Is she somehow involved? Was she willing to lie to her daughter for the sake of erasing this shameful mistake?

She summons the will to get out of bed. She showers, salted tears co-mingling with too-hot water and running down the drain. Washed away, like her memories. Like her indiscretions. Like her autonomy.

She finds a walkman in Cal’s desk and puts the disc in. She lies on the floor in the guest room and listens to it over and over and over.

You thrill me. I know you, you, you, thrill me. Darling you thrill me. Honest you do.

She thinks so hard it makes her head ache. She pulls out as many details as she can remember from her dreams. The green countertops. His mossy eyes. The way he said her name. Scully. That he loved her. That she loved him back. There are new tears, and the music is drowned out by her sobs of grief. It was taken from her. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to have it in the first place, but it should have been her choice. She should have been allowed to choose.

At first I thought it was infatuation, but oooo it’s lasted so long…

His mouth is hot, his breath and his lips and his tongue. It seeps through her panties, warming the skin beneath, igniting nerve endings. She tries to keep her hips still as he brushes his lips over cotton and lace, dropping wet kisses on her hip bones and the apex of her heat. She hears him inhale deeply, letting it out with a little hum. She has never in her life felt so attended to, so wanted and worshiped. He pins the fabric of her panties between his teeth, tugging it to the side and running his tongue along the seam of her leg. She swells and gushes, anticipation as piqued as a drawn bow, tensed and ready to fire. His fingers hitch under the elastic at her hips, pulling down and down and down…

She startles and sits up abruptly, finding Cal in the doorway with his knuckles mid-knock.

“What are you doing, mija?” he asks, bewildered.

“Um,” she tries, pausing to swallow and collect her thoughts. “I was just trying to get comfortable.”

“On the floor?”

“Yeah. Sorry. How are the kids?”

She rises slowly from the floor as blood rushes to her head.

“They’re good. We saw The Road To El Dorado and went to the park with the big slide,” he says, eyeing her curiously. “Are you feeling any better?”

“A little bit,” she says, offering him a small smile.

He follows her downstairs and she does her best to rally for the children. They tell her all about the movie, and a dead squirrel they saw near the park.

“It looked like this!” Pete says, then lays on the floor and sticks his arms and legs up in the air, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.

They have dinner. They get the children ready for bed. She steals glances at Cal, wondering and wondering. What is he keeping from her? What will he do if he realizes she’s suspicious? Does he actually know anything that she doesn’t?

He catches her in the hallway as she leaves Abby’s room, his hands on her hips stilling her.

“Can we watch some TV?” he asks, his expression pained.

“I think—I think I might just go to bed,” she says, avoiding his eye. “I still don’t feel very well.”

“Okay,” he aquiesces, releasing her and taking a step back. “Hopefully you feel better tomorrow.”

She nods, and he moves toward the stairs.

“I’m going to sleep in the guest room,” she says, and he freezes with his hand on the banister. “I just don’t want to keep you up with my tossing and turning,” she adds.

“Okay,” he says defeatedly, not bothering to look at her.

She watches him disappear around the corner at the bottom of the stairs, unsure whether his hangdog posture should elicit feelings of guilt or victory. He must know—how could he not? His love feels genuine, but loving someone does not preclude you from hurting them. In fact, those who love you are the ones who often hurt you worst of all.

She locks the guest room door. She listens to the song until the batteries in the Walkman go dead. She cries—for herself, for him, for whatever it is she lost. She cries because she doesn’t even know. Her tears pull her under, wringing her out to the point of exhaustion. She sleeps.

-

She drapes her body over his, their bare skin hot and electric as she wriggles up until his shaft is nestled in the valley of her thighs. She rocks her hips gently forward and back as he cranes his neck up to kiss her, humming and sighing. She’s so wet, and they’re so ready, he finds his way inside her without the use of their hands. She pauses to acclimate to the sweet, stinging stretch of him, taking minutes to kiss between each added inch until she sits fully impaled in his lap.

He sits up, cradling her face in his hands and kissing her firmly, urgently, as her hips begin to flex.

“Fuck, Scully. I love you,” he groans, and she feels herself rise up to meet him.

“Mulder,” she whimpers against his mouth.

“Mulder.”

-

Peter is pounding on the door.

“Mommy! I gotta show you something!”

Mulder. Mulder. Mulder. Mulder.

She clings to it, scribbling it onto her waking memory so it isn’t lost to the ephemeral anamnesis of sleep.

She pops the lock and the door flies open, and Peter holds out his hand to reveal a screw and a small metal disc. Her head is swimming, and she steadies herself with one hand resting on the door jam.

“I finded this in the garage!” he says proudly, and she gives the objects a cursory examination.

“That’s cool, Pete. Thanks for showing me.”

He tears off down the hallway, gone as quickly as he arrived, and she glances at the bedside clock: it’s after 10:00 am.

Mulder. Mulder. Mulder. Mulder.

Downstairs, she digs through the junk drawer for a pen and pulls out a pad of legal paper. She writes it down every way she can imagine that the sound she heard come from her own lips might be spelled.

Molder

Moulder

Melder

Mulder

Mulldur

Cal is watching her from the sofa, Abby tucked up under his arm. He doesn’t say anything, just follows her with his eyes as she tears the page off the notebook and returns the pen to the drawer, then pours herself a cup of tepid coffee. She makes her way back upstairs, sitting down at the computer in the rec room and pulling up Yahoo.

Molder Cremation and Funeral Planning Services.

Moulder- to slowly decay or disintegrate.

Melder, Thomas. 3311 Lincoln Drive, Tampa, FL.

Mulder, Declan, and Westwood, Attorneys at Law.

Mulldur: no results found.

The phone rings and she ignores it.

Her fingernails rattle against the keys as she thinks. Mulder. It sounds like a surname. If he called her Scully, she must have also called him by his last name. But why? In what circumstance would someone call their lover by their last name?

“Whatcha workin’ on?”

She jumps, crumpling the paper and stuffing it into the pocket of her robe. She turns in her seat and finds Cal at the top of the stairs, eyeing her pensively.

“Just something for work,” she lies. “I remembered that I—forgot something. For work.”

Cal nods, but it’s clear that he’s unconvinced.

“Can we talk? Just for a minute?” he asks, crossing the room and leaning against the wall beside the desk.

“Uh, sure,” she answers nervously. “But the kids—”

“I sent them over to the neighbors’,” he answers, and her heart begins to race. “What’s going on with you, Dana?”

“I’m still just feeling a bit unwell. I think I’m fighting something off,” she says, touching her forehead for effect.

Cal’s chin puckers momentarily. His head jerks toward his shoulder. He swallows, then looks at the floor.

“Please don’t lie,” he says softly. “You know how I feel about lying.”

No, I don’t. She thinks. Someone made sure that I don’t know that anymore.

“I’m not lying, Cal. There’s a bug going around at work—”

“That was Michelle who called,” he interrupts, his eyes still on the floor.

“On a Sunday?” Dana asks, surprised.

“She said you were supposed to see her last week and you didn’t show up,” Cal continues, then lifts his head to look at her. “She said you’ve been having disturbing dreams. Why didn’t you tell me, mija?”

He looks so genuinely wounded, she decides not to outwardly express her anger that Michelle shared her private information with him. Then again, she probably signed something saying that she could. She signed a lot of documents in those first few days, scrawling Dana Rose as though it were a foreign language.

“It’s nothing, Cal. There was nothing to tell,” she insists, though not angrily.

Cal stares at her stonily, disbelieving. She needs him on her side, needs to keep some part of her life held together enough that she can continue searching for the bits that broke off.

“I’m at a hospital,” she says, appearing to relent. “Not St. Agnes, somewhere else. And there’s a man with a gun, and he just keeps screaming. That’s it. That’s the dream, over and over. Sometimes the gun fires.”

Cal visibly relaxes, taking two steps forward and dropping to his knees at her feet. He moves her robe aside and pushes her T-shirt up to reveal her belly, then runs his thumb over the scar there.

“You’re remembering,” he says, and now it is she who sighs with relief. “It makes sense that this would be the memory that breaks through. It was traumatizing.”

He looks up at her, and she forces herself to touch the sides of his face, brushing her thumbs across his cheeks. She wants to trust him, wants to feel that little bit of security and contentment that was so quickly snatched away, but her gut is telling her that he’s not safe. No one is.

“Will you please go see Michelle tomorrow?” he asks pleadingly. “I’m worried about you.”

She nods, and he wraps his arms around her waist, resting his head on her chest.

“I love you,” he whispers hoarsely.

She strokes his hair, hearing the man, Mulder, in her mind. Fuck, Scully. I love you.

“I love you too,” she says rotely.

She plays the part. Loving wife. Attentive mother. It’s all she can think to do.

She dreams of him again. She wakes with the taste of his kiss on her lips. She wonders where he is now.

Mulder.

-

“Calvin sounded distressed when I spoke to him yesterday.”

Michelle is ornery. Jilted. Slighted by a patient who did not comply.

“May I see my release of medical information forms, please?” Dana asks, returning her snark. “I don’t recall giving you permission to disclose what we discuss here to my husband, and if I did, I’d like to retract that.”

Michelle’s mouth thins into a small line.

“Are you taking your medication, Dana?” she asks derisively.

“Yes,” Dana answers flatly.

“And are you still having dreams?”

“No.”

Michelle huffs and tosses her notepad onto an empty chair.

“You do realize you won’t gain anything from these sessions if you’re not honest with me?” she asks incredulously.

“I am being honest,” Dana replies, giving her nothing. “I’d like to see my release of medical information, please.”

Michelle stares at her, and Dana stares right back. It’s a battle of wills that she has no intention of losing. Whoever Michelle is, whatever she’s been asked to do or prevent, she won’t find a compliant patient in Dana.

“I could legally have you committed, Dana. Give me a reason to believe that you’re a danger to yourself or your children, and no judge will deny the request,” Michelle says in a gravely serious tone.

“Is that a threat?” Dana asks, feigning fearlessness as her heart leaps into her throat.

“We’re not getting anywhere today,” Michelle says as she stands and walks around to the other side of her desk. “Come back on Wednesday. Perhaps you’ll be ready to have an actual conversation then.”

Dana exits her office wordlessly, marching out of the building and back to her car with rage grasping her throat. She thinks back to all she shared with Michelle under the assumption that she was an advocate, feeling tricked and foolish.

She’s lost, so damn lost, with no north star or guiding light, nothing to tie herself to that she can be sure is real. She could leave Cal, but then what? Where would she go? Who can she trust?

No one. Not even her own mother.

Adrenaline fades and is replaced by exhaustion, her eyelids sagging as she makes her way towards the freeway entrance. At the last minute, she pulls into a coffee shop instead and parks, afraid that she may not make it back to Ellicott City alive, as tired as she is.

She orders a latte and leans against the wall as she waits. She lets her eyes slide closed as she tries to identify her next move. She could ask her mother, come right out and tell her she knows that something is going on, but if Maggie was willing to take part in this entire charade in the first place, odds are good that she’ll go to great lengths to keep it up. She could hire a private investigator. Perhaps they could locate the man, Mulder. She has little to no information to go on, other than a vague physical description and a last name. She doesn’t even know what region of the country he’s in, or if he’s in the US at all. He could be anywhere in the entire world.

“Just a large black coffee, please. No room.”

Her eyes snap open, and he’s there. He. Him. The man—Mulder. Standing not ten feet away, at the front of the coffee line. She knows his voice, the square of his shoulders, the bridge of his nose. He turns to walk to the coffee bar, right toward her, and she is struck by his hooded green eyes, his full bottom lip.

Fuck, Scully. I love you.

She waits with her heart pounding in her ears for him to see her. For that same realization to cross his face. It’s you, he might say. He can fill in all the missing pieces, make her feel like a whole person again.

But he doesn’t.

He gives her no more than a passing glance, then stands a few feet away and waits for his coffee.

“Latte for Dana,” the barista calls out, snapping her back to reality.

She approaches him, feeling a magnetic pull toward his body. His tailored suit, his chestnut hair: he is a living memory. A beacon. She feels the weight of his arms, the press of his kiss. She stands right beside him and he finally turns to look at her, his eyes scanning her face.

“Mulder?” she rasps out, and his eyebrows furrow. “Mulder, it’s me.”

Tagging @today-in-fic

[nailbatss]

California, Show Your Teeth

This is one of my entries for @harringrovesummerbingo !! I'm hoping to post on A03 sometime too!

Square & Prompt: C1 - Alpha!Steve visiting California beaches to get an eyeful of California omegas

Rating: SFW but alludes to spice

Word Count: 1.5k

Major Tags: a/b/o dynamics, Alpha!Steve, Omega!Billy, swearing, alludes to sexual content, Billy is slightly ooc

Summary: Alpha!Steve has spent too long with the same omegas from Hawkins. He wants to try something new for a change. He hops in his car and drives to California for a beach trip. Somehow, a new omega catches his eye (and maybe his heart).

Steve was sick of the same old same old. What does one do in a situation like this, you may ask? 

He packs his stuff and heads out west. That’s what he does. 

Pedal to the floor, nothing but open roads ahead and the wind in his hair. Tapping his hands on the steering wheel, Steve hummed along to his tape blaring through his car. He was going to see what California had to offer one way or another.

How did he choose California? Simple.

It was far enough away for a better chance.

Now, Steve wasn’t like other knot-headed alphas. He was respectful, kind-hearted, and he had amazing instincts when it came to pups. He was especially the kind that the kids called “babysitter” since he looked after them like they were his own. Being in a position like that makes a guy really crave something he didn’t have. 

And he wasn’t getting any younger.

Hours on the open road will give you a chance to think, especially when he had enough time to think about what he wanted. He wanted to settle down someday, have a family, but he wouldn’t stay stationary in a town that hated him. He would want to travel around, not stay in the same place too long.

That sounded like the life for Steve Harrington.

~*~

The sun was intense as he stepped onto the beach. Steve’s eyes trailed along the shoreline, catching a glimpse of the white sand and the crystal clear water. California was pretty, but he wasn’t just trying to look at the scenery. 

Hearing a fit of giggles, Steve turned his attention to a group of girls as they looked at the magazine in front of them. ‘Alpha’s Digest’ the cover reads. What a tacky magazine. He scoffed.

If only he could forget about his mother’s collection of them in the foyer that nobody used anymore. Every month they got delivered and she’d shove them in a box in the front room so his father didn’t find out.

Steve shuddered at the thought.

“Alright, shitbird, you and your friends need to go on.” A voice barked.

That’s when his heart stopped.

Standing around 5’10”, the blonde, curly-haired man was standing with his arms crossed. A skull smoking was inked on his right bicep, appearing to be the only mark on his arm. That’s when he removed his sunglasses to glare at the girl in question, a smaller red-haired girl who was glaring back at him in a challenge almost.

They argued for a few more minutes until the girl caught him staring.

“Oi, you got a problem?”

The blonde snapped and raised his brow, approaching Steve with a blazing glare. 

“You should be staring elsewhere, pretty boy. She’s too young for you.”

“O-Oh, sorry, I wasn’t trying to stare!” Steve defended and held his hands up in defense.

Judging by the stance, and the scent patch on the blonde’s neck, he was an omega. Makes sense as to why he was so protective over the younger girl. Could be his sister or something, Steve reckons. 

“Then what’s your problem?”

“Shit,” Steve paused, “I’m new here. Just checking out the sights… and the beach.” He reasoned. 

The blonde was giving him an updown, taking him in and tilting his head.

“Makes sense as to why you’re so damn pale. You stick out like a sore thumb.” Oh, he’s sassy too, Steve notes. He likes this fiery omega already.

“So um, you wanna help a guy out? Give me a tour or something?” Steve replied weakly.

The omega in question snorts, “Aren’t you forward? Interesting.” He took out a toothpick from his shorts pocket, making him wonder how long he had been keeping those there. “Well? Gonna tell me your name, pretty boy?”

“Steve, Steve Harrington.”

The blonde smirked, “Billy, Billy Hargrove.” He mimicked him. “Damn, you’re pretty for an alpha.”

“How’d you clock me as an alpha?” 

“You’re not trying to jump in my pants like the other alphas ‘round here. I noticed you noticed my patch too. I’m not blind.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“And respectful? Shit, keep talkin and I’ll keep you around. Not used to that at all.”

Billy held out his hand for Steve, confusing the alpha at first.

“Give me your phone, I’ll give you my number. You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Steve scrambled to grab his phone and unlock it, handing it to the blonde as he typed away. Looking closer at the omega, Steve realized that he has freckles under his sunglasses. It was really cute. 

“There. Better call me.” He winked and walked away. “I’ll be free around 6.” He called over his shoulder, giving Steve a full view of his perky and round ass.

God knows that he was going to have to head to his hotel to think.

And get his inner alpha to calm down.

~*~

‘Hey, this is Steve!’

‘Yeah, I know. You don’t listen to instructions very well, do you?’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘I said to call me, but this works too.’

‘Shit, sorry.’

‘It’s all good. I like when you apologize. It’s cute.’

‘So, are you free to show me around?’

‘What’s in it for me?’

‘I could get you dinner, your choice of place.’

‘Anywhere? Shit, you sure about that?’

‘You would know best, wouldn’t you?’

‘Suppose I would. Alright, meet me here at 7. Don’t be late, pretty boy ;)’

[location received]

Looks like he had a date to get ready for.

~*~

Dinner that night went swimmingly. He was able to spend some time getting to know the spitfire that was Billy Hargrove.

“My dad’s a piece of shit, my mom’s dead, and I have a new stepmom and stepsister. That’s who you saw me talking to earlier.” Billy said after taking another bite of pasta.

Steve nodded, taking a sip of the wine he ordered for them to enjoy.

“You’re different for an alpha, I don’t understand you.” Billy pointed out.

That certainly caught Steve off guard. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, we’ve been enjoying dinner and you haven’t tried to flirt with me, try to say some nasty shit, and then wine and dine me? I don’t understand.”

“Because I understand that you’re not an object.” Steve started to answer, making Billy’s eyes widen. “You’re a person and you deserve to be thought of as such.” He met his gaze so he knew he was serious when saying this.

“I’m not going to treat you like other alphas will. When I say shit, I mean it.”

They were both quiet again after that had been said. It felt like electricity crackling through the air; the pair could feel it. Whatever was brewing between them, it could only be contained for a little while longer.

Needless to say, dinner came to a close and the bill was paid in a hurry.

When they got in the car, the emotions were running high. And the hormones even higher.

~*~

Slamming against the door, Steve laughed as he pulled his shirt off, tossing it aside. “Alright, alright, easy.” He laughed before lips were on his again.

“You kept me waiting too long, pretty boy. Wanna see what’s under here.” The omega muttered as hands were wandering, feeling his body and setting his inner alpha off. 

‘Omega likes us. Keep going, make him feel amazing.’

Steve pulled him closer and smirked, shutting the door behind him with the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign swinging sideways. Oh yeah, he was going to enjoy this.

After the tangling of limbs and such, Billy was laying on his chest and he looked at Steve.

“Look, I don’t do this, okay?”

“This as in…?”

“Casual dates, then sex. It’s not something I normally do.”

“Well, I don’t either. Not usually anyway.”

They were both quiet for a moment. 

“Do you want it to mean something?” Steve asked him quietly.

“...Yeah.”

“Then it’ll mean something if you’ll have me?”

“Like?”

“Do you want to go on another date?”

“Are you skipping town anytime soon?” Billy fired back and looked up at him.

“I thought about it.” Steve answered honestly.

“Oh.” The omega’s usually beachy scent turned stormy. “I see.”

Sensing his mistake, the brunette tipped his chin back up to face him, “But I’m not. I’ve got nothing waiting back there for me. Here, I have you.” He pressed a kiss between his eyebrows. “I’m here for you.”

Those stormy blues once again turned a brighter crystal color, “Good. Don’t want you to go. Not when I just got you.”

“Then I’m yours, baby.” Steve smiled and their lips met once more.

“You’re mine.” Billy answered. “And I’m yours.”

Steve couldn’t agree more. California had really been amazing to him; he was never going to turn back.

[aiysan2]

Chapter 6 ' Going Under' Dabi x reader

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first time sex, no protection, creampie I think that's it I don't usually do warnings

" I hope you are not nervous, it is my first time too." You reassure watching him fumble when you lay bare on your kimono. One arm held your breasts, and the other held onto Touya's knee while he sat next to you still clothed. His eyes went wide and narrow every few seconds like he was doing calculations. Your legs were closed, heels pressed against your bum so your knees pointed to the ceiling of the cave. You hadn't undressed in front of someone since your failed trial, though despite your nerves you could tell Touya had more in him. He always wanted to seem tough when he was so sensitive.

" I know what to do, I know where the 'clid' is and everything." He bragged.

" Here we call it a clit." You smirked.

" Another thing we say differently, you shouldn't forget to write it down in that notebook of yours." He was even more embarrassed. What if he fucked up so much that you had to fake an orgasm like he'd heard his sister whisper about on the phone one time. He wouldn't be able to live.

" You are overthinking." You slid your hand between your legs, spreading them apart as you did so. Using your middle and index finger you spread your pussy lips apart, "Touch me here."

Fuck

His cock couldn't get any harder, watching your glistening folds in the darkened hue of the cave, he was entranced. His fingers collect your arousal. He didn't think you'd be so lewd, even the look you gave him when his fingers touched you had his breath hitching.

He leaned forward, letting himself touch you once again, his thumb going to your clit and rubbing tight circles, he'd watched enough porn and read enough of his sister's books to know what to do when it came to this. He was blessed to hear you gasp when his fingers slid into you.

Perhaps he was impatient, but his inexperience was obvious. His fingers stuttered inside your warm, almost prodding your insides at a staggered and quick rate. You reach a hand down wrapping it around his wrist to halt his movements.

"Too rough Touya." You mutter.

"Sorry," He observes your face, calming himself down, your eyes peer at him, lip tucked between teeth, he watches the way you flush when his fingers graze against a certain spot, curling his fingers into there, his sole mission at the moment being to make you cum.

"f-feels good." You stutter, your hips now restless as his thumb makes contact with your clit, rubbing tight circles to get you ready to take him. He can tell he's doing well by the rolling of your hips and the vulgar sounds leaving your lips. 

His chest swelled when he felt your cunt pulse around him, begging for his cock to replace his thin fingers, wanting to finish desperately.

"I'm close," You whimpered, his spare hand found your breast squeezing and kneading the soft flesh making you shudder beneath him. Your mouth fell open into a gasp when he leaned over your fingers working to help you orgasm while his lips wrapped around your nipple.

He had to stop himself from cumming in his pants, your noises were so hot, to put it simply. His imagination couldn't conjure something so amazing to hear. His virgin brain was so fucking overwhelmed.

"There, i-im there," You moaned, your cunt milking his fingers, shuddering while your liquids coated Touya's digits. He extracted them, watching the substance spread when he separated his fingers in awe. 

You huffed, now ready to take him. You felt like you were ready for anything he decided to give you, and you were eager for whatever he would offer. You kneeled upwards, planting your lips on his in a rough kiss, too excited to wait for him to get over his nerves.

"Take this off." You demanded, tugging on his Yukata harshly while nipping at the rough skin of his neck. He'd like to tell you he couldn't feel there but what good would it do when your eyes were practically dilated with need?

He followed your command stripping himself bare in a way that was too clumsy to be called anything but embarrassing. You glanced down at his length only for a second, your mind too fried to pay attention to the mass aching below his navel.

You pulled him down with you to the floor, hands grazing every contorted muscle he had, kissing him like he'd run away.

"Calm down." He muttered, once again overwhelmed with your needy touches and desperate pants.

"I will once you fuck me."

"Since when do you swear?"

"Since my partner started taking his time to touch me." You rolled your eyes. 

Reaching down to his heavy length, your body stilled when you felt him in your hand, he was thick and strong and needy. Sensitive to your touch, Touya hissed, chewing on his lip to stop any noises from leaving his body, childishly bucking his hips into the air.

He changed the position of the two of you, spreading your legs and pushing your knees to your chest before hovering above you.

He watched as your eyes wandered his body, hand once again grazing up his chest to his jaw, before leaning forward and kissing him. It was slow, your tongue slipping into his mouth, something Touya thought he wouldn't like but when your tongues tangled together he couldn't help but feel his cock twitch.

You felt his fat tip rub between your lips catching against your clit making your hips jut upwards to catch that friction once again. 

He was silent once again, allowing your weeping cunt to lubricate his mass. He caught your eye asking for permission to enter you to which you gave a nod. Your fingers laced into his hair preparing yourself for the stretch you knew was coming.

He pressed himself into you, shutting his eyes when he felt your warm walls flutter around him. 

He was so fucked, you were so fucking warm and squeezing him deliciously his self-restraint fighting his bodily need, to feel you in your entirety.

Oh god, it's too much

He came embarrassingly early, his grip on your hips bruising while he tried to keep himself still his cock twitching in your heat.

You huffed, feeling his fluids fill you up, whimpering slightly when he slid out of you, missing the stretch and heat his body gave you. 

"Did you....... finish already?" You whispered, propping yourself on your elbows and watching his cum leave your cunt.

"er fuck- just give me a second." He turned away from you, stroking his cock in one hand so he'd get hard again. You raised your brow trying to follow the movements of his hand, then you looked back at your pussy watching the thick creamy liquid glop out of you. 

You reached two fingers down, collecting it to observe a little closer. You stared, watching it drip down your index, you put the finger in your mouth curiosity getting the best of you before you withdrew.

Bitter

"Are you ok?" You asked, looking at his cock as it hardened once again. It looked sensitive now, his tip a vexed red, length twitching with every shallow gust of wind whistling through the cave. The sight was enough to make you want to gush around him. "kiss me again." You demanded, pulling an arm forward to wrap around his neck.

He used the kiss as a distraction, slowly entering you while your nails clawed at his neck. You were sure he had grown a bit more than last time. You could feel his veins pulsing in your throbbing sex. His tumescent stretching you deliciously, moulding your body for just him.

You heaved, tears close to spilling over your lashline, not feeling used to being this full and something in the back of your mind told you that you'd constantly crave the feeling of him filling you up.

"i-uh" You tried to communicate, but the stretch was so dizzying so foreign and so fucking good. 

You shivered when his thumb found your clit, letting you know he was going to move. Not that he needed to you felt like you could cum just like this, with his cock pulsing against your g spot.

"You feel fucking amazing," Touya groaned above you, his grip on your hips tight as he rolled his hips into you. You were so warm and wet and had the perfect pussy just for him, your walls fluttering around him every time his cock pressed into your spot.

He was drunk off you, drunk of your scent, drunk of your salacious mewls, and the way you would twitch every time his navel ground into your little clit. Why the fuck would he want to go back home when he had this perfect little thing just for him.

"Don't curse," You warned though it didn't hold the authority you wanted, your voice small and whiny, blank mind struggling to move your mouth to form the correct words. He's so good with his cock, you were struggling to concentrate when his tongue dragged over your erect nipple, then suckled your breasts.

Your hand tangled in his hair, already overwhelmed and red-faced from his engorged cock, you couldn't take the sensations of his mouth groping your tits.

"t-touya," You whimpered, pulling at his hair to get off. 

You should've kept your mouth shut because then Touya's pupils wouldn't dilate and his dick wouldn't be kicking inside you from hearing his name drip from your lips like nectar. If you kept to your whimpers and mewls, he wouldn't feel the need to sit up and lift your hips from the floor to rut into you like a jackrabbit just to hear you say his name like that again.

"Say it again angel, say my name" He begged, watching your eyes roll into your skull as his cock mercilessly pressed into your spot.

"I'm not an angel- oh god" You reached your hand grabbing hold of his knee in an attempt to stabilize yourself, or at least make him slow down so your thoughts could bring up more than him and his cock.

"Say Touya," He demanded, eyes ferally wide, like he'd die if you didn't utter it. Where did that nervous virgin go?

He'd fuck you from the back if he could see your face, liking the sound of your ass slapping against his knees. He can tell your fucked out, too cock-drunk but you were still coherent enough to understand that he called you 'angel' so why the fuck weren't you moaning his name like earlier.

You felt his thumb wet from saliva, press against your twitching clit, the feeling enough to send your body shuddering in his touch. Your nails dug into his knee your other hand holding his wrist tightly. 

Your pussy drooled around his cock, finally happy to have something thick to cum around. 

"Oh god," You chanted, your cunt quivering as hot electricity spiked through your nerves, sending goosebumps in its wake, from your head to your pulsing clit.

"It's not God that's making you feel like this," Touya smirked cockily, cheeks red and almost offended you were calling out to anyone but him.

Touya's name began to roll off your tongue, while your legs shook in raw pleasure, your body gushing in sultry harmony, your hips rocking into the air and your legs shaking in euphoric ecstasy.

Your head was thrown back, while you creamed on his cock. His orgasm followed, his mass throbbing inside you, ready to fill your womb with his seed really claiming you as his.

He curled over you, mouth latching onto your neck to shush the loud whimper that threatened to slip from his lips as he splurted into your warm pussy. His breathing was lethargic, his arms languid, and his length softened in the warmth of your spent pussy.

Slowly he pulled away from you, you felt a soft ache in your hips, you looked downwards and noticed a soft bruise forming on your hips as well as his cum dripping from your pussy.

"Next time I want to touch you everywhere." He admitted, feeling like he didn't squeeze your waist enough, fondle your breasts enough, or mark up your neck to his liking.

You nodded, sitting up to lean on him for heat, you could feel yourself drifting off, cringing slightly when you felt your liquids sloshing inside. You curled up next to him, holding his side, he was warm as always, humming, you slept off.

Touya was overwhelmed by his feelings, wasn't he meant to feel at peace now that he had confessed to you, he shouldn't feel like his heart was taking control of his body when you touched him like you love him.

"Gosh, I think I'm in love with you." He mumbled, staring into the fire that he made.

"Good, I love you too."

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[arxiel]

CRIMSOM THUNDER

Rolan x F!Tav

BACK --- NEXT

Chapter 3: Shadelight

Rating: Explicit (CONTAINS STRONG CONTENT AND ANGST)

Summary: The group of refugees made their way through the mountain pass to reach Shadow curse land. Not knowing that it could be the end for many of the refugees and a horrible experience for the survivors.

Words Count: 4,843

Notes: Im so sorry if the english is BAD, originally i speak spanish, may have some errors.

I've always wondered what they've been through, so I've taken the dialogues that Alfira, Cerys and Rolan said in Last light inn to interpret it as faithfully as possible.

AO3 LINK

CHAPTER INDEX

Or... read Bellow

The breeze at dawn was blowing through the grove, all the refugees had collected their belongings to leave for their journey. Rolan carefully arranged all his personal belongings in his bag, not forgetting his important book with Lorroakan's letter.

The walk was peaceful, and there would be conversations among some refugees to lighten the mood as others kept their words to themselves to avoid wasting their energy as they walked. 

Stories of ancient heroes would be told to entertain children and Rolan's brothers told about the heroics of other famous heroes to the little ones. 

Rolan walked in step with the others, practising the new spells in his head. 

They would arrive at the mountain pass in a few days time without any problems, the Githyankis that Zorru had sighted would have already left and the path would be a little safer. The beauty of the sunset on the mountain pass was be enormous, with the leaves barely dried by the autumn stage and the environment decorated with the sunlight in its last stages of the day; A sight that is not equalled anywhere, even in the cities. 

Although Rolan doesn't like being surrounded by nature, he enjoys these views and would never say no to taking time to enjoy it until the next sunrise. 

Halfway through the mountain pass, the refugees would began to set up the camp for one last night before moving into dark lands, the atmosphere would slightly transform into purple colours, delighting even more the last views of the sun. 

At nightfall Mrs. Okta cooked the dinner for the refugees, displeased to water down the broth even more, and her son Ikaron, despite having been a guard in Elturel, helped his old mother pass the dishes to the children and adults, even though they were even fewer refugees than they had been when they left Elturel.  

Lakrissa and Afira would talk with Dammon while letting the siblings Cal and Lia relate the story of how 'the heroine of the grove' saved the day and how she fared in battle. 

Curious to Rolan's ears, the children had an admiration for Yvainne, the way the others would tell her story made her seem like someone stocky and tall, a stereotypical hero in a big way when she is a puny, slightly shorter than any other woman and dangerously skilled with magic, but has good dexterity, worthy of being a hunter. 

"There was no need to twist reality to benefit her..." It passed through Rolan's head as he kept flipping through his book. 

The hours passed before everyone started to eat dinner, Rolan leaning against the rocks noticed a slight glow among the rocks near the cliff, he left the bowl of thin soup and approached it. 

An unusual object was buried in the dirt, but it glowed in the light of the campfire. He carefully picked it up from the dirt and cleaned it with his fingertips; it was a hairpin made of gold with a star-shaped decoration.

That unique golden glow in the darkest night close to the mountainous forest landscape would remind Yvainne's eyes as green as laurel leaves and the centre as golden as the sun. Something that his memory wouldn't forget as easily as her freckles, long and disorganised hair as black as a crow's wings.  

Each time he looks at that hairpin he only thinks about seeing her again to pick up her hair and decorate it with that ornament to see that face with those beautiful eyes in particular...

Instantaneously he blinked his eyes strongly and put the hairpin in his pocket, he didn't like to think about those things, he felt weak and he hated it. 

With what happened at the waterfalls, the fight with the goblins and the moment at the party it felt like the gods had made her to annoy him. He wasn't in her league at all, she was surrounded with interesting companions who seemed to have a special interest in her, and he's just a cocky apprentice wizard. 

One of those days if he saw her again he'd go mad.  But for his good fortune or not, maybe he wouldn't see her again. 

"Rolan, Mrs. Okta is asking why you haven't finished your soup." Cal's voice would bring him out of his thoughts. "I'll be there in a moment." Rolan headed for his dinner plate in the company of his brothers. 

They would talk more about their walking corns and sunburn until the conversations became interesting fot two of them.

"We didn't talk much about that night of the party." Rolan choked on his food as he heard Lia bring up that conversation. 

"Oh yes. The night when my brother and sister humiliated me awfully by drunken dancing." Rolan blurted out with almost an aggressive edge to his words before politely consuming his soup. 

"And we also interrupted your most intimate moment with her." Cal said, turning his lips to his cup of water. Rolan spat the food near Lia at which she laughed. Her cheeks would slowly flush as her brothers laughed mockingly.  

"No, we didn't. - I was avoiding being associated with drunken idiots by staying away from the party. Nothing happened there, I just showed her how to do the lights.  Absolutely nothing happened." Said Rolan who turned redder than he already was. 

"Alone with Yvainne, and nothing happened; hells, you must have fucked it up." Said Lia with a malicious smile. 

"No! No, just no." Rolan's words would begin to falter.  "That tells us everything." Cal said with a chuckle. Rolan would look away in an attempt to ignore his brothers' taunts. It was difficult to explain that situation, he had let himself be carried away by the wine and the previous dangerous situation. But the realisation that his brothers were eager for an answer would lead him to be partially honest. 

"If you two hadn't come drunk...." Rolan murmured, his brothers heard him, both exchanged glances with excitement. 

"Next time, put your lights in the sky so that we don't disturb you." Lia excitedly shook Cal, Rolan brought his hands to his face to cover the obvious nervousness that his siblings would easily provoke.  He didn't know if it would be a next time, he'd be too busy learning magic with his new master Lorroakan, but he'd let his siblings get carried away with the excitement. 

His brothers didn't bring up that subject again, although very deep down Rolan wanted to tell his brothers how pretty she was under that hair, he wouldn't do it, they would tease him again and this time it would be for days. Even though it was evident that there was something growing between them, and it would grow even more if they met again, he wouldn't admit that he had genuine interest in a person. 

At the time of everyone's rest, Rolan covered Cal and Lia with a blanket to keep them warm in the camp. As he leaned close to his siblings, he would open his book and practice again in absolute silence. 

As he leaned back he would feel a twinge in his side, as he removed the discomfort he would notice that the discomfort was that hairpin. Looking again at that ornament he carefully placed it on the page on which it was located so as not to lose the page and passed the letter of Lorroakan to the end parts of the book. Now he could see the page more clearly without having to turn the letter to other pages. 

His thoughts turned to how to present himself in the city and how the Baldureans would see him. He is a tiefling and people would judge him by what happened in Elturel, although with the letter it is certain that they will have a good place in the area. His concern for his siblings would come up again, he would not want his brother and sister suffer discrimination, but one thing is for sure, Lia would protect Cal from anyone who would try to hurt him, as well as him he'll protect her. 

A hand brought him out of his thoughts, it was Asharak, he'd silently gesture for him to follow him, and Rolan returned the book to his bag with extreme care so that the hairpin wouldn't fall out. 

Asharak escorted Rolan to an area where the cathedral could be seen in the distance. Zevlor observed the night scenery in awe. 

"Ah, boy, I wondered if you might in the mood for a conversation." Zevlor said without looking away from the breathtaking scenery. 

"It seemed you needed the wisdom of a wizard." Said Rolan, crossing his arms with a cheeky smile. 

"You're not far wrong boy. -You see we're not so far from the entrance to Shadows cursed land and we need all the fire burning we can get in specific spots so that the refugees don't suffer the curse. If the shadows try to extinguish them, it would be helpful to chase them away with your magic." Rolan nodded at Zevlor's specific instructions. 

"I will do what I can, for my brothers, don't be mistaken, Zevlor." the paladin nodded his understanding at Rolan's words. 

"If anything happens to us, and I hope by the mercy of the gods it doesn't. You will take our place along with Cerys and lead these people to Baldur's gate." Rolan paled at Asharak's comment.  Of all the possible leaders he would accept Cerys, one of the scouts of Elturel, becoming leader. But himself? 

It is a burden he would not like to bear, but there would be no other way. 

Zevlor would laugh at Rolan's expression. 

"You should not frighten him my friend, it is a hypothetical case, as long as we remain enlightened nothing will happen to us, simply everyone will be frightened of the shadowy whispers, but if anyone comes near be assured that my sword will speak for itself, it is just a precaution." said Zevlor with a heroic look on his face. Surely his strength and leadership can take on the shadows of the cursed lands. 

"That was all boy, you can go rest again, tomorrow we leave for the shadow cursed land." Rolan nodded as Zevlor gave him the signal to leave.  The only thing running through his mind was that he would be a very bad leader if anything happened to the others, he doesn't have the patience to lead, he's not like... Yvainne.

He breathed the air before turning to his siblings again. For the night's movements they would be uncovering themselves by accident. Rolan returned to cover them up to their necks with the blanket and lay down near them to rest. He only knew that for Cal and Lia he would protect them with his life and if possible in death as well. 

It wasn't hard to wake up, the sunrise would be as bright as the sunset and it was a glorious feeling and Rolan knew it by feeling the warmth of the sun. 

By contrast, his brothers would have had a harder time waking up on their own, being heavy sleepers.  

"I think I got a pebble stuck in me while I was sleeping." Lia grumbled as she rubbed her side, Rolan would grin at the situation. Once Cal and Lia were ready, they helped lift the belongings of the other refugees to leave the camp. 

Although it was difficult to keep the children quiet and the oxen still tired, they continued on their way. As they continued on their way there were signs in the area that they were close as plants were swallowed up and some dead animals. 

Some refugees began to talk to lighten the silence in the face of the difficult path, Rolan remained restlessly reading his book again and looked up at the hairpin that reminded him of those eyes, he couldn't avoid smiling and even more so as his brothers retold their story to entertain the people. 

"I know that Look from anywhere, who is it?" Bex would approach him to look at the book, Rolan would slam it shut with a jolt. 

"You confuse a peaceful smile with any stupidity, just go to your husband, I don't have to deal with you." said Rolan, giving her a little tap on the shoulder. Bex went jumping up and down with her husband to gossip about him.

Rolan rolled his eyes, he's already tired of it, first his heated mind thinking of someone he may never see again, then his brothers and now the tiefling couple, there was no place for those feelings anymore and even less especially when is near the cursed lands, it's time to focus.  

Along the way he kept mentally practising with the magic to perfect it. 

"Mmm perhaps i could make modifications to the spells to make them more powerful."  He muttered to himself.  Rolan wagged his tail with excitement, he could try, varying his inner magic he could make these modifications, it wasn't really forbidden. He would practice with his fingers to try, flexing them properly and feel the magic flow differently in his veins. 

His eyes widened in surprise, it was really possible, his excitement rising even more as he unleashed a genuine smile on his own face. He couldn't wait until arriving at the camp to do it. 

Inspired he closed the book and put it in the bag, it was more than enough and already there was no time to continue reviewing, the heavy atmosphere indicated that the time had come. 

Twisted trees, blackened earth and dead animals all around. Alfira, Cal and Lia would try to calm the frightened children, Dammon would secure the goods to avoid accidents on the road, Zevlor would give the instructions to set up the protective formation in order not to get separated from the road in the shadows.  

Those selected as the points of light lit their torches, some of them calmed the oxen so they would not break ranks out of fear. 

Once done, Zevlor would take the first step into the darkness of the twisting trees, followed by a few refugees and hellriders. Lia would take Rolan and Cal by the hand before taking the steps to proceed into the darkness. 

"It really was everything they said...".

There was no more sun, no more heat, just darkness incarnate.  

Reithwin is nothing more and no less than a dead land reigned by shadows, adorned with twisted trees, spiky vines, blood-red grasses and dried plants. The smell was damp like graveyard dirt, but even heavier, even stinging on the nose. 

Although around the refugees they have torches for light, the necrotic energy is even more powerful than what was mentioned and could instantly harm any living thing. As if something was feeding it even more. 

"We must go on, do not fear, under the torchlight we will be safe." Zevlor said in a loud and confident voice. The group began to move forward in fear and silence. 

The pace became more difficult as the shadows groaned as they tried to drown out the light of the torches, other shadows tried to seduce some of the weaker refugees out of the group and consume them, but none were deterred by fear. 

"I could never imagine setting foot in these lands, the darkness is so heavy..." Cal squeezing his arms tightly around him. 

"Don't worry, we'll be fine, the walk may be a little long, but with the torches we'll be all right." Lia said with a nervous smile, patting his brother's back.

Something felt wrong about the whole place, there were empty settlements and cages, the others didn't care, but Rolan would be nervous about them, campfires with embers, it's definitely not just shadowland anymore. 

The sound of one of the wagons falling and the sound of falling metal would catch the group's attention, one of the oxen would begin to be blackened to death. Dammon's wares were already by the shadows, he would try to collect the most important things to take with him to get closer to the group as quickly as possible. 

"One of the oxen succumbed to the shadows, there's not much I can do." Dammon said broken, some of the hard work was already with the shadows, but he kept the notes and some research he had. 

"There's no problem, when we get to the city everything... everything will be fine." Alfira said patting Dammon on the back before continuing down the path. 

The shadows would seem to quiet down in a few moments as they would reach a path that included several roads, movements could be heard amongst the grasses instead of the shadows. Something wrong and Rolan's nerves would become more evident. 

"Everything all right?" Lia asked looking at her brother, she tried to place one of her hands on his shoulder, but he would turn his gaze abruptly with real terror in his eyes. 

"It looks like an ambush...." whispered Rolan to which Lia and Cal tried to warn as many people as possible to stay calm and run as soon as they had the chance.  

But up ahead the children began to cry and scream, they were being quickly and silently surrounded, not by shadows, but by Absolute cultists, the same ones who wanted to raid the grove. 

The group started to move closer together as the cultists began to corner them like animals. 

Rolan's heartbeat quickened to a terrifying pace, a cold sweat would break out as he saw them draw their weapons. His instinct led him to grab the hands of his brothers who would also look terrified. 

When they threatened Zevlor by pointing a crossbow at him he dropped to his knees touching his head as if in severe pain, a reaction that had also been seen on Yvainne during the battle with the goblins. 

Some of the refugees would draw their weapons to defend the others, but a voice familiar to Rolan would shock him. 

"Put down your weapons. We are refugees heading for Baldur's gate, we are not enemies, please let us go." pleaded Zevlor, some absolutists would look closely at the tiefling. 

"Oh yes The Absolute, it has an interest in you, it has an interest in some of you, hell spawn. The Absolute wants to see who is of use and who will be sacrificed." The children began to cry louder as they listened to the absolutist, Asharak would try his best to calm the children whispering to them that all will be fine. 

Rolan's chest shrank as he listened to Zevlor, he became dizzy as he tried to look at the others. 

One of the absolutists would grab Asharak by the horn to pull him away from the group and place them in front of the frightened tieflings. 

"We'll examine you. Line up, now! Or this spawn dies." He pointed a sword at the tiefling's neck with sadism. The refugees obeyed with panic on their faces. 

"Zevlor by the gods do something! You can't let them do this to us, this is why we fight in the grove!" - Lia cried out in desperation, turning her anguished gaze to the Paladin. Zevlor looked at the young woman in sadness with true surrender in his eyes, Rolan would look into those eyes , the only salvation was giving them over to death. 

"Absolute is the only way..." Said Zevlor with pain in his words, looking away. 

"Close your eyes, children, please..." Asharak said with difficulty, in his eyes could be seen the sadness of knowing that this was going to be his true end and he was trying to assimilate it.   In a merciless act, the absolutist gouged out the tiefling's eyes. His screams of agony made the refugees shiver and weep, and they proceeded to cut out his tongue to drown out those screams. The choking sound left Rolan with a helplessness that turned to revulsion. 

"Yes! Yes!! beg for your life! This is what will happen if you don't obey The Absolute's will" At that, Asharak's body would be thrown down to the ground and they would aggressively grab Ikaron's arm, his mother tried to pull his arm and one of the Absolutists kicked her out of the way. 

"Don't touch my son! Leave him, please don't touch him! Take me, but not my son!"  Okta shouted in desesperation.  Rolan would turn his eyes away to avoid looking, he didn't know Ikaron but had engaged in a few conversations with him, her screams and sobs pleading for her son filled his throat with despair. 

Hearing the blood spilling followed by Ikaron's screams, Mrs. Okta yelled out loud in fury, her only son had been slaughtered like a hog, in her act of impulsiveness she rushed to her son in tears, and another of the occultists shot her in the back causing her to fall beside her son. Tieflings' panic and terror would be hard to contain and the occultists threatened to slash the children's throats if they didn't calm down. 

The lump in Rolan's throat rose in frustration, he couldn't let this happen, eventually it will be his brothers' turn. He hoped with all his heart that Yvainne and his strange party would come out of nowhere to save them again; that's what heroes do, saving people when they need it most, at any time. 

But that would not happen. 

Rolan started to tremble in helplessness, he shook his head and tried to blink hard to wake up from this real nightmare, but it was not like that, this is more than reality. 

They were cornered and lined up like dogs. 

What good are heroes if they are not present in the face of the danger of the innocent? 

No one would come to save them and any attempt to escape would put everyone in danger.... 

Nobody... Not even Yvainne could save them... 

"Tormento" 

From Rolan's fingers shot out spheres of red light that would hurt several occultists. 

"I'd rather rot in the shadows than give in to any of you, Bastards!" Rolan stood up preparing a lightning spell, his eyes glowed like flames. 

Lia got up dryly to throw a rock at the archer cultist's head to make him drop his weapon to grab her bow and strike at the remaining archers that would threaten to hurt her brother, Cal would slash the back of their knees with his spear to bleed them out. It was like facing goblins, some will take the opportunity to escape from the cultists. The three brothers bravely fought against the cultists who would threaten them. They had hoped that Zevlor with a glimmer of hope would rise up and fight. 

But he didn't, he has remained on his knees, surrendered, and the Cultists would take him away. 

"Capture as many as you can and take them to the Moonrise towers, necromancer Balthazar will be pleased, with the ones who are fighting."  Said one of the cultists with a delighted smirk. 

Some of the refugees would fall to the cultists as more came taking other tieflings as prisoners, Cerys led the few adult tieflings to safety, other tieflings would turn away to run in the opposite direction.

The children stood in shock at the carnage, Rolan stepped in front of the children while casting another spell. 

"Alfira take the children now!" Rolan shouted to give the bard a cue. She attempted to take the children, but they too would be cornered from behind.

Rolan would notice those cultists behind them. 

If he tries to face the ones in front of him, the children would be lost, and if he tried to face the ones surrounding the children, he would die or worse. 

His heart would race with anxiety, he was doing his best not to perish in the face of the cultists. He had limited time to think properly. 

Suddenly Cal and Lia stood in front of him to save their brother. He would feel his blood chilling to see his siblings in front of him protecting in order for him to conjure the spell. 

"Run, Rolan!" Cal shouted, preparing to strike with his spear.

"The children needs you, save them."  Lia said hoarsely, but there was a look of determination in her eyes. 

"No, I will not leave you behind, I will fix this, just step aside and..." Rolan panicked, the children needed him and his brothers were willing to cover him to save him as well, he could not choose either of them. - If he chose his siblings the children would die and he will never forgive himself, but on the other hand his brother and sister is the most important thing in his life, it is his whole world, his world that he had fought so hard to get to where they are.

He couldn't choose, he can't, his senses would be clouded by the stress of the situation, he couldn't react or speak, there was an internal conflict with himself to try to manage it.  

"We love you, asshole."  When Lia uttered her last words both brothers rushed towards the cultists. 

"Detono" 

Rolan without time threw thunderwave towards the cultists in the back who went for the children, he quickly grabbed the arm of a frightened girl to take her away along with Alfira and the other children. 

Rolan's chest felt heavy, the lump in his throat would intensify each time he heard the shouts of the others who covered their backs for Rolan to protect the survivors from the cultists. 

They would cross the bridge of the old inn that seemed to be protected by shadows. 

Guards would shoot at the remaining cultists to clear the way, others would help the wounded children and tieflings.  Several people would tend to them, clearly wearing the badge of a harp on their armour. 

Harpers...

The loose organisation which tries to maintain balance and fight villainy throughout Faerun. A very familiar face would appear among the Harpists. Jaheira, the High Harpist, heroine of Baldur's Gate.

The refugees and the high harpist would approach Rolan to ask them questions at the same time.  

He couldn't hear the questions, he couldn't see due to his blurred vision. He just wanted to go back for his brother and sister. 

On impulse he turned to run back into the shadows, but some vines grabbed his feet, preventing him from taking another step. Rolan would turn to face the old half elf woman angrily. 

"Let me go, damn you! I must save them!"  Rolan would shout, as the vines stretched across his legs and arms, preventing him from using magic to free himself. 

"For the nine hells I must save them! they're my brother and sister!"  He was forced to his knees by the vines. Tears would well up in him, completely clouding his judgement.  Sorrow and wrath flooded him, his brothers had sacrificed themselves for him to save the rest of them, or at least a part of them. 

He endured the sorrowful tears that threatened to spill out as he tried to pull himself free from the vines. But each attempt to break free stung and burned on his skin. It was clear they didn't want to let him get out, he bowed his head in surrender. 

It was useless to leave, they were gone anyway if he returned to that place and that would hurt him even more. The vines dissipated and a few harpists would block the entrance. 

Alfira touched his shoulder in consolation, but he would turn away abruptly. 

"Don't touch me, you worthless bard-" Rolan waved his hands; Dammon tried to converse with him, but he averted his gaze. 

Without listening to anybody else he stood up and moved into the inn. His gaze stopped on Bex who had tears in her eyes and alone, without her husband. 

"That's why it was stupid to stay in the grove, I stayed in the grove thanks to Yvainne because of her goddamned hero speech, I thought it'd have been worth it, but it looks like it was all a bloody disappointment." Rolan spoke in a furious tone, desperately trying to get everyone to stay away from him.  

His chest even ached at the mention of her name. If he had kept his word, his brothers would still be with him. If he had not listened to his heart they would be with him. They would have already left for the city if not for her. 

Flooded with rage he would whip his bag of scrolls and his precious book to the canteen floor. Ignoring everything he would walk alone outside on the terrace to scream out all the pain he felt, a pain that would tear him apart and burn him alive before he threw himself to the ground in tears. 

Nothing mattered to him anymore, not the letter from Lorroakan, not the scrolls, not the book. 

For him there was nothing than stinging pain and the eternal moments of each tear flowing down his cheek. 

END OF ACT 1

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BACK --- NEXT

[gothcsz]

𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒆 / Chapter V.

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Original Female Character

SUMMARY: Down on the west coast, we got a saying...

WORD COUNT: 6.1k

RATING: 18+ Mature topics such as sex, drugs, murder, the occult, religion, cannibalism and other triggering matters will be explored in this body of work. Minors DNI.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC TAGS: A sexy performance by our main character, he's absolutely whipped, THEY HUG FOR THE FIRST TIME !!, is it really a slow burn if they don't yearn for one another, an insufferable dad, speaking of dad back on my dbf!Javi bs, other things that I'm probably forgetting.

DISCLAIMER/WARNINGS: The Javier Peña referenced in this body of work is solely based off of the character that appears in Netflix’s Narcos and not the actual person. Very canon divergent and I will tweak things as I see fit to compliment the narrative of this story. While efforts have been made to be accurate in terms of canon timeline, a lot of details will be fictionalized, including the usage of the song(s) that Paloma will perform throughout the story.

A/N: hi friends! hope you all enjoy this chapter, i was completely smitten while writing this since i'm such a needy little thing when it comes to a good slow burn ship lmfao also i love how we've all collectively decided that javi is lana del rey coded like SO true bestie !! like i love me some flirty!Javi okay sue me !! let him flirt with all the women !! anyways feel free to drop any type of feedback/support on this blog or ao3. i'd really appreciate it <3

♰  read on ao3. ♰

♰  playlist | pinterest | series masterlist ♰

Paloma is feeling wildly fervent tonight, a side effect of the eventful days she’s been having. She’s been buzzing with excitement to get up on the stage and exude all the feelings she’s been wrapped up in through music.

Between Javier’s ‘will they won’t they’ repartee and August’s piquant personality; these men have been bending her will to remain strong. It’s a peculiar thing, reminiscent to the stories she reads or movies she watches.

Paloma hasn’t stopped to think about it in a logical sense, where these newfound ‘relationships’ can go, and frankly she doesn’t want to stop and think. She just wants to be… to allow herself to indulge in the pleasantries of their attention.  

She’s at the bar two hours before she’s set to do her gig, cheerfully enjoying the company of her best friend as she drinks her signature root beer and muddled cherry mocktail. She eyes the new karaoke machine that’s just recently been acquired and leans in to get Sloane’s attention.

“Has anyone used it?” She gestures to the machine and Slo shakes her head, wiping down the counter. 

“No, but I think you’d be the perfect person to break it in. Pretty sure I saw some Madonna songs on there…” Sloane tells her in a sing-song tone, causing Paloma’s eyes to light up and she hops off the bar stool to walk up to the stage where it was. It consisted of a large television set and the actual karaoke machine.

She plays around with it for a few, familiarizing herself with the controls before she’s skimming through the dozens of available songs.

The evening crowd has started to file in, she doesn’t even realize since she’s been too busy figuring the machine out. She lets out a delighted sound of glee once she sees that Like a Prayer is one of the available songs and wastes no time in selecting it.

The song begins and she takes her position on the stage, few eyes on her. She doesn’t even need the large teleprompter for the lyrics. Bringing the microphone up to her lips, she begins to sing the intro softly.

Paloma sways her hips when she needs to, keeping up with the song as it’s one of her all time favorites. She’s done a variant of this performance in her bedroom with her hair brush many of times.

As the final notes fade away, Paloma finds herself nearly breathless, her heart still racing from how fun it was. The applause washes over her like a wave, enveloping her in a blanket of appreciation.

With a wide smile adorning her face, she gracefully bows and waves to the audience before delicately placing the microphone back on its stand. As the jukebox resumes its melody, filling the void left by her absence, she makes her way back to her spot at the bar counter, basking in the warmth of the moment.

“You know how to put on a show!” The compliment comes from a redhead sitting in the stool closest to her.

“Thank you.” Her mouth curves into a smile as she eyes her. A bride sash draped horizontally over her torso with the small veil clipped in her hair and she’s dressed in all white. There’s three other woman behind her whom she assumes is the bridal party. “And congratulations.” She raises her glass that had been replenished courtesy of her best friend.

They cheers then engage in some small talk when the bride, Wendy, confirms to Paloma that they are out for her bachelorette celebration. They had some car troubles in the middle of their travels to Austin which led to a rest stop here in Seminary until morning.

It wasn’t how she had planned to celebrate the trip, but there was nothing she could do about it so she’s making the best of the situation.

This has an idea pop into Paloma’s head, empathetic as ever, and she says her goodbyes once the band arrives. The plan is simple enough; perform some of her more sultry songs for the stranded bridal party in hopes to make their night a little more entertaining. It doesn’t take much before she’s got her band on board, tapping on the microphone to get everyone’s attention when she returns to the stage.

Javier did not plan on being at The Whiskey Fox tonight, especially with the lack of sleep he’s endured recently. Not that he hasn’t dealt with it before, but it’s been on an unforgiving incline as of late.

The worst part about his insomnia is how inconsistent it can be. He could go weeks with little to no sleep then suddenly a period where it’s all he does. Hasn’t hit the latter of the cycle just yet, but he can feel it creeping up on him at an agonizing pace.

It’s a complete shit show and infuriatingly lonely. He wouldn’t admit to the latter, however.

Exhausting himself throughout the day with hopes that he’ll be bone-tired by the end of the night, he makes an impromptu stop at the bar where hopefully a glass or two of bourbon will have him easing into sleep the second he makes it home.

It’s a long shot, nothing irregular of what he does on a regular night, but fuck, he really needs to get some rest. He can only function off coffee and nicotine for so long.

The bar is in high spirits the second he steps foot in, and with that comes the reminder that it’s a weekend night which means…

Eyes drift over to the stage and sure enough, she’s front and center, and he fights the urge to gravitate towards her.

Instead, Javier opts to sit at the bar, easily getting Sloane’s attention and ordering his bourbon.

“Y’know… I think this is the first time you’ve in been here while I’ve been on shift. You hidin’ from me, handsome?” She begins with a teasing simper, expertly pouring the drink.

Javier chuckles briefly, giving her a once-over, “Had I known a pretty little thing like you was tendin’ the bar I woulda been in here much more consistently.” Flirtatious as ever, despite his exhaustion, brown eyes meeting her gaze as she diligently sets the glass in front of him with a vivacious grin.

“Oooh, you’re a sweet talker. I like that. Not many darin’ boys ‘round here.” She leans forward, making a point to press her breasts together to show off her cleavage which he shamelessly ogles.

“S’a good thing I’m not a boy, sweetheart.” Bringing the glass up for a sip, their stare isn’t broken and she cocks her head to the side in interest.

“A great thing, even. You’re all man.” Her southern accent drips with sensuality, the suggestion hanging heavy in the air between them. For a fleeting moment, Javier entertains the idea of inviting her back to his place to relieve some tension and get some rest, but before he can act, she’s whisked away by another patron.

Divine intervention, Javi thinks, since his interest for her drops the second he hears Paloma’s voice. Placing some cash on the counter, he moves over to the table he’s accustomed to sitting at, distancing himself from the distraction with great tits behind the bar.

♫

His attention now fully on the woman on stage, her honeyed voice and the movements of her hands as they trail along the length of her body, diligently tracing her curves.

He can’t keep his eyes off her. Clad in a sleek black dress with a sweetheart neckline, its hem teasingly grazes the curve of her thigh. She radiates an effortless sensuality. Her mid-thigh high boots elevate her stature, causing her back to arch ever so subtly, drawing his gaze to her ass.

Her hips sway with a tantalizing rhythm that ignites Javier’s imagination, conjuring images of her poised above him with his cock drilling deep inside of her.

The glass in his hand suddenly feels heavy as his thoughts get dirty, so he takes a long sip, relishing the fiery sweetness that burns down his throat.

Javi finds himself completely entranced, lost in the melody of her voice. As Paloma begins her descent from the stage, weaving her way through the tables scattered around the room, a sense of anticipation stirs within him. With bated breath, he shifts in his seat, eagerly awaiting for her to approach him.

She continues, tastefully interacting the patrons nearby, pocketing bills that are being handed to her. She handles it suavely, tucking the wads of cash in the band of her boot that’s pressed against her thigh.

Javier’s eyes fall to the area as she does this, running his tongue over his teeth and truly contemplating if staying away is worth it all. He digs into his back pocket, fishing out the leather wallet and swiftly pulling out whatever was in it to give her.

It’s then that she approaches him, the spotlight making Paloma look more radiant than any star he’s ever seen. Their eyes meet in an enchanted gaze, his lips tug up into a cocky and expectant smirk in which she matches before slowly rounding behind him, almost singing in his ear.

“Te deseo, cariño, boy, it’s you I desire.” 

Javier’s jaw ticks as her touch runs along the expanse of his broad shoulders, and before she’s able to leave him completely, he slips the bills into her palm and lets it drop from his grasp.

That line was a seductive invitation, crafted for him alone, and he can feel it in the way her lips curve into a smug smile. Was it penned with him in mind, sung in Spanish to tantalize him? The notion ignites a fierce longing within Javier, his skin tingling and body craving her.

Her lyrics, saturated with desire, mirror the very same craving she elicits from him. The hunger in her eyes speaks volumes, a silent plea for the passion they both yearn to share.

She finishes the song, the table of a bridal party praising her drunkenly as the music dies down and everyone begins their applause. Some whistling at her, too.

Javier remains unmoved, reclining effortlessly in the chair, one arm draped casually over its back. His gaze is fixed on her, unwavering, a fresh cigarette dangling from his lips, the tendrils of smoke curling around him lazily. He makes no attempt to conceal his admiration, indifferent to whether she notices his lingering stare. The bold move she just made only serves to fuel him, leaving his infatuation as intense and consuming as ever.

It’s evident that Paloma seeks his pursuit, craving the thrill of the relentless chase until she willingly offers herself completely. Though Javier typically refrains from chasing pussy, he finds himself captivated by the enticing dynamics of their relationship— a tantalizing dance of push and pull.

This experience is vastly different from his usual encounters, where women often yield quickly to his advances. With her, however, the challenge persists, defying his expectations and fueling his intrigue.

For a time, Javier reveled in the thrill of it all— the fleeting encounters with women at brothels, the allure of one-night stands. The fast-paced rhythm of constant attention and swift hook-ups kept him occupied and amused.

Yet now, a shift has happened.

He finds himself drawn to the unhurried pace of whatever undefined connection he shares with Paloma. It’s a departure from the whirlwind of his past experiences, and despite its ambiguity, it holds a newfound interest, captivating him in its gradual unfolding.

It’s building tension, prolonged foreplay to a shared fantasy that’ll only bring them both conflict. Conflict that he doesn’t want to be burdened with…

Yet, she makes it so hard to stay the fuck away.

As she vanishes into the depths of the back area, Javier swiftly drains the last remnants of his drink, feeling more restless than when he came in.

It has been days since her last performance, yet she hasn’t stopped thinking about that night. It was her first time doing anything remotely sensual as she had— and she liked it. It gave her a lot of real confidence and not that of which she pretends she obtains.

She’s already preparing herself for the scrutiny she’ll receive from a certain group of gossips at church for putting on such a scandalous performance.

Whatever, she thinks, people were going to talk shit regardless and she’s never felt more sexier and empowered. The self-assurance she got from people handing her tips and receiving Javier’s undivided attention was exhilarating.

It had been more than enough for her to quickly improvise a specific lyric in her song. For him.

Paloma is at a loss to rationalize her impulsive behavior once she approached him, swept up in a sensation akin to a siren’s call, drawing in a lost sea captain with an irresistible temptation.

He’d been more preoccupied than usual, leaving Paloma to grapple with an unexpected yearning for his presence. Their interactions had become fleeting, confined to brief exchanges in passing or hurried conversations over the phone, often revolving around attempts to reach the sheriff.

So seeing him there that night, very present at her gig, she knew she had to do something big to give him the hint that she is very, very interested in doing something, anything with him. Consequences be damned.

Paloma won’t be the one to take it there, that’s a rookie move. If Javier is as interested as he appears to be, then she fully intends to practice some patience and have him crawling over to her.

Would he actually do that, though? She only knows bits and pieces of his romantic endeavors, and from the little information she’s gathered; he doesn’t seem like the type to chase but she could be wrong.

There is no harm in trying to seduce him, really, and if he rejects her then she’ll take the hint and move on. It’s not like she wants to date the man or have him fall to one knee asking for her hand in marriage.

No, Paloma just really wants to get laid. Too many nights have came and went where all she’s dreamed of is the hot, older deputy sheriff screwing her into oblivion. 

Then at the bar… he actually gave her money, matter of fact, he had been the biggest tipper of the night. She contemplated giving the cash back to him, thinking it was entirely too much, but she talked herself out of the idea solely because she found the transaction incredibly hot.

She’s cautious not to invest her entire focus in him, so she’s also been seeing August.

Their time together brings forth a distinct experience, stirring uncertainty about her romantic attachment to him. It wasn’t until yesterday afternoon, amidst the tranquil shade of a sprawling oak tree, engrossed in shared reading, that an almost kiss cast light on her true sentiments towards him.

Their connection pulsates with an undeniable chemistry, his attention lavishing upon her as if she were the rarest gem. United by their shared interest for literature and idyllic beliefs, he breathes vitality into the stifling surroundings.

While the opportunity for a shared kiss lingered, Paloma’s thoughts persistently drifted toward Javier, rendering the moment bittersweet.

Lost in her own thoughts amidst the task of pulling weeds from the garden, she remains oblivious to the persistent ringing of the landline inside. Only as the sound penetrates her consciousness does she snap out of it.

Hastily removing her gardening gloves and rushing inside, she reaches for the phone just before its final ring.

It’s Lola from the bar letting her know that a letter has just been dropped off— addressed specifically for Paloma.

She is confused yet intrigued at the news, and in no time she’s in town; sitting on top of the counter ripping the poor envelope open and scanning the words on the piece of paper.

Apparently, the bride who was here last weekend contracts acts from all over Texas to perform at the state fair in Dallas. Seems like Paloma was conspicuous enough to warrant an invite.

A much bigger crowd, her first real chance to branch out by doing something she’s genuinely passionate about. 

After freaking out about it with the ladies at the bar, even taking a celebratory tequila shot, Paloma is racing to make it to the station to share the good news with her dad. 

She hurriedly hops off her bike, not even bothering to chain it to the rack as she snatches the letter and saunters up the steps and into the building overly excited.

Clearly, she’s interrupted something as both men’s heads snap in her direction with heavy, worried looks in their eyes when she barges in.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Her father steps towards her, scanning her for any injuries.

“Yes I’m fine daddy,” she tucks her hair behind her ears to contain some of her excitement since she feels some of the leftover apprehensiveness from before she arrived, “I’m just excited to show you this, look! I got invited to preform at the state fair!” She shoves the paper into his chest and he turns it around so he can read it.

Her eyes are bright in anticipation, searching his stoic face for a reaction.

“Sweetheart, this is wonderful...” He trails off and her smile begins to fade at his tone.

“What? What’s wrong?” She questions, eyes flickering over to Javier who stands almost awkwardly behind the sheriff.

“A girl in Fayette has gone missing. We just got the call. About to head over to help ‘em out.” The news has Paloma drawing in a breath, all the enthusiasm in her body evaporating as he hands the paper back to her.

“O-Oh, that’s—”

“This is amazing news, babygirl. We’ll talk about it more when I get home later, alright? We gotta get goin’.” 

The dismissal breaks her, and there’s a second where her demeanor shows it but it’s only temporarily as she nods understandingly then steps aside to allow him to maneuver his way into his office.

“State fair, huh? That’s huge, congrats bella.” Javier’s voice keeps her from scurrying away and she gives him a small smile.

“Thanks, but seems like there’s more important things to focus on.” She won’t be self-centered by taking up any more of their valuable time. A girl is missing and if they want to come out on top, then their focus has to remain on her and not Paloma’s trivial news.

“You’re right but that doesn’t mean we can’t be happy for you.” She lifts her gaze from her shoes up to meet his at the use of ‘we’ and she melts, instantly.

In his captivating brown eyes, there’s a delicate balance of gentleness and resolve, causing her knees to weaken slightly. She discerns the subtle golden flecks that add a compassionate depth to his stare.

“Yeah, I guess. Just hate that all this is still happenin’. I’m assumin’ y’all aren’t any closer to findin’ out who’s doin’ all this, huh?” Since her father doesn’t tell her anything except what he needs to, she isn’t fully aware of the exasperatingly severity or statuses of the cases.

Javier lets out a heavy sigh, thumb dragging across his trimmed mustache then bottom lip and her eyes zero in on the movement, which she shouldn’t find as attractive as she does. “No, but things like this always take time. It’s the most frustrating thing about the job.” 

She nods, having somewhat of an understanding, “Then I’ll get outta y’alls hair. Leave the mystery solvin’ and savin’ the day to the pros.” Her nose crinkles as she lets out a soft laugh in attempts to lighten the mood.

He gives her a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Javier’s magnetism is undeniable, his rugged handsomeness coupled with an air of competence that captivates her completely. She senses something more than mere physical attraction. It’s as if small moments like these are chipping away at the salacious layers of their connection, revealing something deeper and more profound beneath.

“I’ll see you soon, yeah? Got those parts for dear Darla comin’ in any day now. You’ll be cruisin’ around town in no time.” He winks at her and she giggles softly, blood pooling at her cheeks in a deep blush that he notices immediately and it makes his chest tighten.

“I’m lookin’ forward to it.” Paloma replies, a bit more shyly than she’d like but that’s just what happens when you’re affected by Javier Peña’s irresistible charm.

They hold each other’s gaze for a few more seconds, Paloma losing herself in the depths of his warm brown eyes, while Javier savors her presence entirely. Their silent exchange is interrupted as Romeo emerges from his office, oblivious to yet another fleeting moment shared between his daughter and the deputy sheriff, lost in their own world of unspoken emotions.

She is well aware of the copious amount of time she’s been putting in to her performance for the fair, spending all her free time at the bar with the band rehearsing or in her room piecing together her outfit.

This is her moment to showcase her mastery of the craft, and she seizes it with unwavering determination. To an outsider, the prospect of performing at a mediocre state fair, hours away from home, might seem insignificant. But to her— it’s everything. Every chord struck, every lyric sung carries the weight of her dedication.

This performance isn’t just about the venue; it’s about pouring her proving to herself that she’s capable.

At first, her father had been really excited for her… but as the days dragged by and tensions with the missing person case increased, he began to grow more cynical about it.

With the way things were going, he wouldn’t be able to accompany her and that’s when all the unnecessary comments began. Romeo began to bring up the crime rate in Dallas, hypotheticals of what would happen if she were to get stuck on the side of the road on her way there, even insinuating that her band (which consisted of four members from their church) wouldn’t be as reliable as she knows them to be.

It pissed her off every time he opened his mouth to talk on the matter. At first, she just ignored him or said something neutral to appease him, but now that the date was slowly approaching, she found it difficult to keep her rebuttals to herself.

How many times was she going to have to remind him that she’s a grown up? For some reason, he thinks she’s still a meek sixteen year old girl that needs his protection.

This is what led to the current argument. Him reluctant to let her go and Paloma insistent on going with or without his ‘permission’. Before it has the chance to get out of hand, there’s a knock at the front door and she uses it as an excuse to end the conversation.

Sighing heavily, she opens the wooden door to find Javier on the other side and immediately her frown disappears and she smiles sweetly up at him.

Amidst her intense preparation for the forthcoming performance and his deep engagement at the station, their encounters have become even more infrequent, a departure from their usual routine.

Yet, despite the scarcity of interaction, their bodies seem attuned to each other’s presence, responding instinctively to the silent symphony of their unspoken connection.

“Hey cowboy, whatcha doin’ here?” She crosses her arms against her chest, the screen door still separating the two of them.

“I told you I’d have the parts in any day now.” It’s then that she sees a cardboard box in his possession and realization dawns on her.

“Oh my god— no way! Thank fuckin’— Lord almighty, you’re such a saint.” Javier chuckles at her words which has her feeling fucking giddy as she opens the screen door and steps aside to let him in.

“M’not a saint, princesa, but your kind words are appreciated.” They walk side by side, her shoulder softly brushing against his arm, to the kitchen where her father is.

“Daddy, Javier’s here to finish workin’ on sweet Darla.” There’s a tinge of bitterness lacing her words as she addresses her father, their previous argument still fresh on her mind but she would rather throw herself off a bridge than finish said conversation in front of their company.

The two men greet each other, making small talk as Romeo thanks Javier for all he’s doing for both the town and the help he’s been extending to his daughter. Paloma boredly leans against the doorframe, waiting for them to wrap up their exchange and Javi can feel her impatience.

When they finally breakaway, It’s just him and Paloma in the shed, Romeo stuck inside taking an important call. Instead of perching herself on the chair like last time, she’s leaned over the hood of the car with him, close enough to be able to feel the heat radiating from her body.

“I didn’t interrupt something earlier, did I?” Javier asks, picking up on the tension between her and her dad in the kitchen just then.

Paloma doesn’t reply right away, eyes trained on his working hands within the engine.

“You did but it was a good thing. We were havin’ a small argument that was about to turn into a real big fight. He’s being so anal about not lettin’ be go up to Dallas for the fair. He doesn’t seem to understand that I’m goin’ regardless.” She scoffs with a shake of her head, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“He just worries about you… doesn’t necessarily go about it in the best way but he just wants to make sure you’re safe.” He picks his words as carefully as he can, gaze flickering to her face briefly before returning to the task at hand.

“I know, he’s just so stubborn about it.”

“Sounds like someone I know.”

She lets out a genuine laugh, the one that involuntarily brings a small smile to his lips and she elbows him playfully.

“He’ll come around. He sees how passionate you are about your music. Like you said, you’re goin’ to do it with or without him.” Paloma doesn’t say anything, thinking his words over knowing that Javi’s right but he’s underestimating how adamant her father can be.

Finally getting the last piece screwed in tight, he stands to his full height and wipes his hands off on a rag, “Alright, go start her up and see if she’s cooperatin’ finally.” Javier gestures towards the driver’s seat as he slams the hood close and she excitedly leaves his side, flinging the door open and sliding in.

The engine starts with ease and the delighted cheer that comes from Paloma is more rewarding than anything he’s deserving of.

She hops out, throwing her arms around his neck in a hug that takes him back, literally, stumbling over his feet slightly but they’re kept upright as his hands naturally fall to her waist.

Their bodies pressed together ignites a fervent blaze of desire between them.

Her scent— an intoxicating blend of freshly bloomed flowers and ripe fruit— envelops him like a gentle summer breeze, casting a spell he never wants to break.

His fingers brush against the exposed skin from her cropped shirt, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. The softness of her curves beneath his touch tempts him to explore further, but he restrains himself.

“Thank you so much, Javi. You have no idea how happy you’ve just made me.” Paloma pulls away first, but not completely, and the position they’re left in is much more intimate than it should be.

His breath fans over her face, which is just inches apart, if he really wanted to; he could lean in and press his lips against hers…

And he really, really wants to but with Romeo just around the corner— he won’t risk getting caught. No matter how enticing and easy it’d be to give in.

“Javi? What happened to officer or cowboy?” He teases, pinching at her hips and she pushes at his chest, finally breaking their embrace.

“Right, forgive me for wantin’ to have a moment of authenticity.” Paloma playfully rolls her eyes, “Thank you so much, officer. You have no idea how…” She trails off suddenly and his brow cocks inquisitively.

“You have no idea how satisfied you’ve left me.”

The sultriness in her voice, gleam in her eyes, and those long lashes batting up at him all innocently does nothing but fuel his craving for her. 

“If this is all it took to leave you satisfied, hermosa, then you’re in worse shape than I thought.”

She bites down on her lower lip, “Thank god I have you here to help me out, hmm?” 

And for a split second it feels like something might happen but ultimately… it doesn’t. 

“Just doin’ what I can, cariño. You get any more car problems just call me and not ese mecánico de mierda (shitty mechanic).”

As she leans forward to retrieve the keys from the ignition, he finds himself entranced by the graceful arc of her back, seemingly inviting his lustful gaze to follow its every contour. The gentle slope of her spine draws his eyes downward, her low rise jeans accentuating her plump ass.

“Well… I can’t call you if I don’t have your personal number… what if I have an emergency and you’re not at the station?” Paloma can feel his gaze on her and it makes her feel satisfied that she’s able to capture his attention so easily, closing the car door with her hip and leaning against it.

“That would just be a downright wretched thing.” As his hand instinctively reaches for the memo book he habitually carries, a silent curse echoes in his mind upon realizing its absence. He does have his pen, though.

With a swift and decisive motion, Javier closes the distance between them. A sharp intake of breath betrays her surprise.

“Don’t have paper on me, but…” Taking her hand gently in his, he turns it and begins to write his home phone number on her palm.

Paloma’s heart quickens its pace, his touch a juxtaposition of rough and gentle against her soft skin. She becomes acutely aware of the stark size difference between their hands, his encompassing hers entirely. A shiver dances down her spine at the sensation, the pressure of arousal building.

With a soft exhale, she finds herself unconsciously pressing her thighs together to relieve some of said pressure. The simple act of hand-holding, so mundane, leaves her wanting more of his touch.

The only thing she can think of is how good his large, thick fingers would feel pressed against her clit while he pleasures her. Or curling inside of her and brushing against that soft spot that makes her come undone.

Focus, Paloma, you’re practically drooling.

“Might wanna write that down somewhere soon. The sweat is gonna mess it all up.” Javier teases, letting go of her hand and stuffing the pen into the front pocket of his shirt. The thin layer of perspiration clearly in response to his gesture.

Her eyes widen at the comment and it has her tripping over her words, “Y-Yeah I’ll, uh, make sure not to lose this. Like I said, it’d be a bummer if I couldn’t get ahold of you in a time of need.”

Her desire continues to simmer and she mentally slaps herself for letting her cool girl facade slip just because he held her damn hand. It doesn’t help that the sight of his exposed collarbones has her fingers itching to trace along his chest and explore beneath the fabric.

She fights the urge to succumb to temptation, her resolve tested by the magnetic pull of his presence.

His smirk never falters, absolutely loving to see his effect on her. It’s only fair, seeing as she’s always the one who riles him up. “Alright cariño, I better get outta here before we get ourselves into trouble.”

The fragile awareness of their shared moment shatters her reverie, grounding her back to reality.

“Of course,” she replies softly, her voice carrying a hint of wistfulness. Her hand remains steady, resisting the urge to wipe away the lingering warmth of his touch as they head back to the house.

All hands are on deck to find Jessica Valdez, the missing girl from Fayette.

Back in Colombia, everyone was too afraid to speak up when something was amiss in fear of having their lives taken by the vicious cartels that ran the streets. Those who did have the bravery to come forward with information only did so in hopes of getting support and protection from a government that wasn’t even theirs.

Consequently, when adversity struck, the flow of valuable intelligence was delayed, impeding the acquisition of pertinent information. This rationale justified Javier’s visits to the brothels, veiled under the pretext of proactive investigation aimed at uncovering critical details essential for combatting the narcos.

The fucking was just a pleasurable addition.

In small communities stateside, however, that’s all people do. Talk. So, when Javier goes out to do some canvassing of his own; he isn’t all surprised by how willingly people are to spill the secrets of their neighbors. By the end of the day, he damn near knows about all the affairs in town, who likes to steal money from who, the mayor’s ‘illegitimate’ child, and decade long family feuds.

Exactly what he expected to find in small Texan towns.

Like he had told Romeo in the beginning, there’s always some truth to a rumor. As he’s collecting information about Seminary and the communities that surround it; he comes to find out about a trio of troublemakers that come from one of the towns where one of the earliest victims had been found and their peculiar interest in all things occult. 

This piqued his interest and upon further investigation; he quickly found the files for Augustus Dixon, Sloane McCarthy and Gabriel Torres.

Immediately, Sloane caught his attention, although her mugshot portrayed her with a more youthful demeanor. The man from Nina’s funeral, Gabriel, also stood out in his memory. He recalls Sloane mentioning him by name that day he was at the Leighton home, too.

However, the third male remained unfamiliar, his appearance suggesting a rebellious disposition, evident from his file and accompanying mugshot.

The trio had been in and out of jail all their adolescence for petty crimes like stealing, vandalism, public intoxication, fighting and other nonsense. Nothing severe. They were just troublemakers and that is not odd to find in rural areas. Kids get bored and do stupid shit.

Javier would know better than anyone, he did similar things at their age.

He’s spread out on his couch, glass of whiskey in one hand and file in the other. He is deep in concentration, reading over different police reports and trying to find out where the occult aspect of it comes into play when the phone begins to ring and he lets out a grunt.

Reaching over to grab the receiver, he tucks it between his shoulder and ear as he answers.

“Peña.”

“Hey cowboy.”

Her voice has him sitting up straight, discarding the folder in his hand on the coffee table, now fully attentive. It’s actually kind of pathetic how fast his demeanor changes when it comes to Paloma.

“Hola hermosa, a little late to be callin’, yeah? You should be getting your beauty sleep for the big day tomorrow.” He hadn’t forgotten about her performance at the fair, making note of the date the second she told him about it.

“I should be but I’ve got nerves like you wouldn’t believe.” She pauses and he can hear her thinking, “Daddy and I just had a fight… well I dunno even know if you’d call it that. It ended with him sayin’ he didn’t give a damn if I went or not… all that fussin’ just so he could say he didn’t care in the end. If I’m actually that insufferable I’m beggin’ you to put me out of my misery.” He chuckles at that and he can imagine her smiling at his reaction.

“Don’t be nervous, corazón. You’re goin’ to do great. You already knock it outta the park at The Whiskey Fox every weekend. This ain’t no different.” It is different and he knows it, but he also knows her and how she tends to overthink to the point of anxiety. “You ridin’ up there all alone?” Not a fan of the idea but he wouldn’t disclose this to her, now when he knows how much it ticks her off. 

“I was gonna hitch a ride with the band, then I remembered I have a car now so I was goin’ to do that but…”

“But?”

“I want you to come with me… if you can.”

The request surprises him, so much so that it prompts him to take a larger drink of his liquor.

“I didn’t scare you off, did I?” She giggles nervously at his prolonged silence.

“No ‘course not. Just figured you’d enjoyed your newfound freedom of being on the road alone.”

“As fun as that sounds, I think it’d ease my daddy’s nerves knowin’ his glorified babysitter was taggin’ along…” Javier feels like there’s more to it than that, especially since she’s always complaining about being under her father’s thumb— only to go on and continue to pacify him. Before he can ask her about it she continues.

“And I’ve never traveled outside of Seminary… well not since I was a little girl. Didn’t really get out much after mom… Just haven’t been outta town in a long, long time.” He can sense her coyness at the admission and it does nothing but persuade him into joining her.

Javi should think it over more, the logistics of him being hours away with Paloma, knowing how ambiguous things are between them. However, he swiftly dismisses his apprehensions, feeling somewhat foolish for blowing what might be a trivial matter, out of proportion.

Especially when she seems so nervous to ask for his company.

Finishing off his drink, Javier leans in deeper to the comfort of his couch and he can hear her soft breaths on the other end of the line, anticipating his response.

“Alright, cariño just tell me what time you need me to be there and I’ll be there.”

[koolkat9]

NedCan Week 2024 - Day 1

@nedcanweek

Prompt: Painting || Hurt/Comfort

Rating: T

Pairing: NedCan

Word Count: 775

Read on AO3

Author's Note: A lot is happening right now so all these are going to be late. Anyway, have day 1.

An Image Speaks a Thousand Words

Matthew hadn’t heard the knocking at the door. He has spent all morning engrossed in streaks of green, brown, and blue. He hadn’t even heard the creak of the door when the knocker let himself in.

“Matt…you…” came a breathless voice.

Matthew jumped, jamming his knee against the easel. The painting rattled but luckily didn’t tumble to the floor. He let out a sigh but tensed once more knowing he had an intruder to face that almost ruined everything.

Jan coward back into the cottage in a poor attempt to hide himself. Matthew scrambled to shield the painting with his body cold shooting through his chest, then stomach.

They stared at each other in silence. Why did Jan’s face have to be so damn unreadable?

“You paint,” Jan noted. Simply. Slowly.

Matthew’s eyes shifted back to the painting, then back at Jan.

“It’s nothing,” Matthew muttered, “Just a hobby.”

“Matt…”

Matthew brushed past Jan into his cottage, whole body thrumming. He shoved the canvas into a nearby closet and strode back out on the back porch.

Jan reached out for him “Hey, why are you–”

Matthew sighed, eyes looking out to the cliffs he had been painting. “Sorry…I was just…startled.”

“Is that all?”

Jan slunk behind him, wrapping his arms around Matthew’s waist, pulling him against his chest. Matthew remained silent.

“You’re good,” Jan whispered.

Matthew shrugged. “I’m nothing special. Not like you and Papa. Just something I do to pass the time.”

“I also just do it to pass the time. Doesn’t make it any less meaningful and definitely not any less good.”

Matthew pulled away, collecting his palette and paintbrushes. “Better clean these up before the bristles get ruined.”

Brushing past Jan he made his way to the kitchen sink and let the water run over the brush part. Jan watched the browny mixture of paints twirl down the drain. They remained silent.

Matthew stepped back and shook the brush a bit before going back over to the closet and hanging it up. Jan followed, catching a glimpse of a wide collection of brushes in different sizes. Almost as big if not the same size as his own collection back home.

“Does anyone else know?”Jan asked, following Matthew back out onto the porch.

“Alfred because he’s nosey. And Kateryna since it was kind of hard to hide when we were sharing a house.”

“Why not me?”

Normally Jan had a good hold on his emotions, fully aware of what he was saying. But with Matthew, things just flew out. Especially in times like these.

“I don’t…I don’t know…Didn’t think it mattered.”

“You know how much I like art.”

Matthew slumped against the banister, looking back out at the cliffs. “Yes, and you’re an expert at it.”

“So you didn’t think you were good enough?”

Matthew shrugged. Silence

“Not even Francis knows?” Jan asked, joining Matthew in looking out across the way.

“Nope. And he’s the last one I want to know. Don’t need to bring something up to be the inferior version of him again.”

Matthew and Francis may have been in a better place in recent decades, even affectionate towards each other like a father and son should be. But there were still centuries of hurt, being a little doll that got dressed up and toted about, praised for how cute he was until he actually behaved like a child and in the process ruined his clothes.

“Hey,” Jan said softly, squeezing his shoulder. “I understand. Francis isn’t always the…easiest person to deal with. But at least trust me when I say that you’re good.”

Matthew looked up at him, lips drawn thin, eyes for once unreadable. “I’ll consider it.”

“I always forget you got Arthur’s snark,” Jan chuckled, pressing a kiss to Matthew’s forehead. “I hope you know that now that I know this, we’re going to have painting dates.”

“Figured.”

Matthew pinched Jan’s nose before heading back into the house once more.

“Better start dinner,” Matthew explained, “Then maybe after…we could wind down by painting together.”

Jan grabbed Matthew by the hips, whirled him around, and planted a kiss on his lips. “Sounds wonderful.”

In the surprise ambush, Matthew’s cheeks flushed. He froze for a moment, composing himself while Jan continued on to the kitchen. He was feeling kind of stupid now for keeping this hidden for so long. Jan loved him so much. Even if his art wasn’t perfect, Jan would still love and still support his hobby.

Matthew shook his hands and head quickly. No more spiraling. He strode into the kitchen to start his peaceful evening with his lover.

[nekoannie-chan]

Relax

Relax

Title: Relax.

Fandom: Marvel, Captain America.

Ship: Steve Rogers X Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.!Reader.

Word count: 240 words.

Square: 7 “Lazy day”

Rating: Teen.

Summary: Steve’s first lazy day.

Major Tags: Fluff.

Additional tags: This is my entry to @eclipsingbingo The Rising Moon Flash Event 2024.

Links: Wattpad, Ao3, Spanish version.

@saiyanprincessswanie

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

I don’t give any permission for my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate my work myself) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. Please let me know if you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

Add yourself to my taglist here.

My other media where I publish:  Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter. 

If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

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On a Sunday morning, Steve was sitting on the couch, a book in his hands, though his eyes were barely open. He had only recently woken up and, for the first time in a long time, had no missions or training scheduled.

You approached him with a cup of coffee, smiling to see him so relaxed. “Good morning, Steve, enjoying the book," you asked, sitting beside him.

“Good morning. Yes, although I don't seem to have much of a head for reading today," he replied, putting the book aside. “I was thinking of taking the day off."

“Of course you were, Steve. What would you like to do today?"

Although you had to admit you were really surprised, you'd never heard Steve say anything like that before.

Steve leaned back on the couch, stretching his arms above his head.

“I'm not sure."

“Do you have something in mind or should I choose?"

“I trust you," he said.

You got up and started looking through the collection of movies on the shelf.

After a moment, you noticed that Steve had dropped his head on your shoulder and his eyes were closed.

You stood still, enjoying seeing Steve so relaxed for the first time.

After a while, Steve opened his eyes and looked at you with a smile. You smiled back and gently stroked his hair.

“You'll always have a place here to rest, Steve.

“I promise I won't forget," he said.