#Moon's face is missing a few details here in the sketch but I will put them into the final pic

[kiruamon]

Work in progress

Thought I might share this sketch with you all. I will try and make a colored version of it and dropping it around february.;)

[lustbile]

The Journal

TenxReader

Word Count: 7.3k+

Summary/Warnings: Smut with plot, semi public, a lot of biting, mentions of supernatural and just general weirdness, and small amount of blood play

Apart of the Club X series: Masterlist (can be read alone or within the series, but unlike others it might just be the slightest amount confusing)

“So that’s what you’re into now,” your best friend’s voice is bored and distant, her task of wiping down the bar that stretched out in front of her taking a majority of her attention away from the babbling you’ve tried to subject her to since you entered the empty restaurant only about 20 minutes before, “weird demon sex clubs?”

—

—

“Ah ah, I never said they were demons,” you correct quickly, the thought of defending yourself never crossing your mind as you petulantly slap your hands against the polished wood, “I just said it was…. weird.”

“Weird is an understatement,” she scoffs quietly as she turns to dip her dirtied rag back into the bleach water and ring it out, “I mean look, I’ve always been supportive in the witchy stuff you’ve been into but this…. is a bit much.”

“I don’t see how this is any different than any other thing I’ve read into.”

“Oh you don’t see?” you finally manage to pull her attention towards you as she harshly slaps the rag back onto the wood with a stern glare pulled on her pretty features, “you’re talking about vulnerability and abandoned warehouses and public sex. That last one is definitely new.”

You fully expected this type of response, only hoping she’d be busy enough that you would dodge the motherly scolding she liked to give you when you pitched your schemes to her with your eyes wild and wide, but nevertheless, she was completely right.

It came from an old book, tattered and torn from being flipped through one too many times, that you found at your favorite antique store. The store itself was already notorious with your tight inner circle of friends as the creepy shop that was corrupting your brain, a constant taunt being that the little old woman that ran it was the actual devil and she was just waiting for the right time to jump you and eat you whole, but this did nothing to stop you from visiting at least once a week.

But the book, it was different from any other you had found. It was completely handwritten, including amazingly done sketches in a deep unfading ink, and spoke of outlandish things.

Some were easily brushed off, like a murder that happened in the 50’s that was known to stay in the mouths of the older folks, both to them and the book it was widely believed to be the doing of some long tongued and wild eyed creature, until a local sweet old man admitted on his deathbed that it was instead his one crime of passion.

He had been a young soldier that snuck into his lover’s room one night, and upon learning that she was to marry a nice lawyer the day after he was meant to deploy, his mind went blank and his hands were carving out her heart. He luckily escaped any questioning after being shipped off, and once he returned home he captured the heart of a pretty young girl and lived out a long life sitting on top of a horrid truth.

So yeah, stories of those sorts, having been solved in your lifetime, meant very little to you, but the one you were going on about now, meant the world.

The writing looked like it had been put down by a panicked chicken rather than the woman who’s name was written neatly in the front. It lived in some of the pages towards the back of the small book and spoke of a dark club. Club X.

She went on and on about stumbling across the club purely by accident, and meeting another woman with glittering eyes. Graphic details of being taken in the middle of the dance floor with a million eyes looking but not fully seeing her as she fell apart against a dancing and eager tongue made your heart thump lodged in your throat. But the more and more she visited the club, the more incoherent her words became, but towards the end the writing had become stained and obscured by a deep brown stain, before it stopped altogether.

Thankfully, the details of where the building was was completely visible regardless of being the thoughts of a mad woman, and with a lot of thinking and staring at the town map, you’ve come to believe that you knew exactly where the mysterious club stood.

Only a street down from the restaurant you sit in now.

“Listen, I know it sounds ridiculous, and it probably is, but what’s the problem with just going to check right?” you scramble to pull the delicate book from the bag that sits in the stool beside you as your friend moves closer and closer to where you sit, laying it flat to show her the page you’ve had bookmarked since you read it, “and look at the name she puts, I think it’s the man who ran it and it’s a long shot, but maybe he’s still alive, or if not maybe some family is! Right here, Asm-“

“Don’t say it again,” she’s quick to interrupt, sliding her free hand to hover above the page you’ve glued your eyes to, “I don’t wanna hear any old man names, especially that one it gives me the ick.”

“It’s just a name,” murmur to yourself, but move to put the book away regardless, “but anyways, I have something that most people who were going to the club didn’t, knowledge of what exactly I’m walking into. I can just go and look around, worst things worst its still a freaky sex club and I just go home, but I’m willing to bet this lady was just off the shits and its just an empty building with some funky vintage beer bottles that you can add to your collection.”

You feel like you’ve won an award you weren’t even trying to compete for when she finally breaks out into a soft smile. The huff that leaves her chest is endeared, and you swear your heart began to vibrate when she reached to run a gentle thumb across the swell from your cheekbone.

“Fine, do what you want, but if the bottle isn’t completely intact when you find it I don’t want it.”

“So you’re not coming with me?” your head tilts to the side in confusion as with things of this nature in the past, she’s always followed along to ensure that you didn’t do anything to stupid. You never felt like the company was fully necessary, but it was appreciated regardless.

“Baby, as much as I’ve enjoyed your info dumping you’ve done tonight, the other person that was meant to clean with me had to leave early with a stomach bug so I’m busy pulling a clean up job that’s truly a job for about five people. But you seem to really believe in this little adventure of yours,” she leaves the rag in a damp mass next to the stack of dirty glasses beside you to take your hands in her’s, her slightly wrinkled fingers are still warm and the way they lace with yours makes you feel like nothing in the world could hurt you, “besides, you’re as smart as a whip and I know you have me on speed dial. I trust you.”

——

You no longer love the feeling of being trusted.

When your friend had given you the heartfelt speech only a little over half an hour ago, you felt like you had been put on a nice pedestal before she handed you a cookie with a pat on the head.

Now the “cookie” had turned to rot in your belly and you were faced with your own perfectly dreamed up reality.

It was already late by the time you had walked into the restaurant your friend works at, the sun already setting and the last few customers gathering their things and paying the bills, so once you got her stamp of approval and we’re heading out the door, the only light left was a bright and full moon, and flickering street lights.

You took your time walking in the direction that your book and personal sleuthing had pointed you in, the closer and closer you got to the one warehouse in town that seemed to never be bought back from the city, the knots in your belly pulled tighter and tighter.

But regardless of the almost painful twist in your gut, you surprisingly almost missed the building in its entirety.

It was as if your entire being blocked out the thumping bass that shook the sidewalk and the blinding red light that spilled from beneath the entrance and out the fractured windows. Your brain trying to force itself from entering the building you spent so many weeks trying to locate.

But the way your heart thuds in your chest when you stand in front of the entrance is something you couldn't even pretend you didn’t feel.

Your tongue digs into the side of your jaw, and you're confused at the feeling of warm tears burning at your waterlines. It’s exactly the way the owner of the journal described it in her manic writings, weirdly exact considering the other stories that surrounded it that dated it back far before you were even born.

You want to go in, the shaking steps your legs take is evident to that, but the tense muscles of your shoulders and stomach makes you hesitate and even grumble out into the air.

You almost jump out of your skin when you hear a shuffling to your side, your throat tensing when you look over, and are put slightly at ease when you see two men who you assume are acting as some type of security. You almost expect them to look up and ask you for some type of ID when you’re being very weird and blatant about your presence, but they seem too preoccupied with the dim screens of their phones and the way they lean forward at different times as if they’re waiting for someone.

Your hands are shaking slightly as they scramble down to grab for your bag, desperately looking for something to occupy you to walk by them without being even more weird, and when your fingers wrap around the flaking leather that binds the book, you grab it like a lifeline.

Your fingers flip through the pages with perfect muscle memory as you trip up the few steps that lead to the door, the tabs you carefully placed on the first page mentioning the club not even necessary with the way you could find the page even in your sleep.

You subconsciously hold your breath when you walk past the two men, almost as if the book is instead something wildly illegal and you're trying to sneak past your parents, and your washed with a temporary wave of relief when you pass through the doors without even a glance from the two.

Though the relief is stolen from your bones the second your feet touch the floor of the club.

It’s as if you’ve entered a place you’ve known your whole life, and from the amazing descriptions from the woman in the past, its not a completely surprising feeling.

But another part of you feels like this is the first time you’ve seen human beings in the flesh.

You can't help but to feel like you must look like an absolute nerd as you pull the book up to your face as you start to survey the club, but thankfully the book told at least one truth, and many of the club goers are too busy grouping and grinding against one another to even acknowledge your existence.

More truths come to light as you flick your eyes between the pages and the walls.

The bar is still tucked in the same far corner as she described, the flittering red and blue lights making it feel like a beacon of calm regardless of it being surrounded by drunken forms and its intimidatingly pretty bartender.

The dj is just a stoic and unimpressed looking as the one from so many years ago as he subconsciously bobs to the beat that he creates as he messes with the nobs and switches in front of him. He’s actually so similar, you wonder if you were right and the owner did have family floating around, and maybe the dj is one of them.

You stumble further into the room as you pick out small details she wrote about so lovingly. Your legs carry you to the back of the building as you smile at the sight of the wine stain the writer claimed to have created when her lover shocked her with a playful bite to the neck.

You almost feel like the universe is gifting you everything you could have possibly asked for when you see the loose board that she said a friend of hers would always trip over, and electricity zips up your spine in excitement when you spots the large painting that still hangs over the booth she claimed as her favorite, and she meticulously sketched out next to a paragraph about what she thought the artist was feeling.

All these things though, lead to the things that make your jaw hang slightly open.

The large balcony above you is larger than you ever imagined. The hundreds of bright red carnations she loved to sketch drip from the golden bars like water, and the black velvet curtains that hang over the room it leads to look heavy enough that they suffocate someone if they fell.

She seemed so intensely in love with the place you stand in, and the woman she met there, and those emotions were more than evident from the way the recreated the energy of the club with her words and art. Which only tips you towards the part that caught your attention perhaps the most.

It was exactly where it was meant to be. Just below the balcony that hangs high on the wall, gaping wide and dark like the mouth of a hungry monster coaxing you to enter its throat. The only issue that you can see being the hanging rope that blocks you from entering, but with only shining bright clasps holding it onto hooks on the walls, you don’t think you're above sneaking past it with little guilt.

The hall was the one thing that taunted you the most about the story the woman spun in the little worn book. The empty and dark vass space being something that coaxed her as well, but unfortunately for you, and maybe her as well, the parts of her journal that began the tale of her passing the temping rope, was the exact spot that was stained with bleeding ink and a suspicious brown color.

You survey the space around you, looking for anyone that could possibly be a worker or just a stickler for the rules, but seeing as everyone in your range of vision was attached by the mouth on someone’s neck or sloppy lips, you figured you were in the clear.

You drop the book gently back into your bag before you step slowly forward. Your heart feels like a wild animal trying to break out of the cavity of your chest, and it feels like your intestines have been successfully replaced with writhing worms that are desperately trying to reach your gut. You feel heat traveling up your chest and neck, and as you get within a few feet of what feels like the end of your life, your body begins to shake.

If you had the ability, you would have screamed, and if you had the strength, you would have fought back. But right when you're about to reach the threshold of the hall, and right when you feel like your legs are about to collapse from underneath you, strong fingers clasp over your trembling mouth, and an arm wraps tightly around your waist.

You’re turned faster than you can blink, the sudden motion making your brain swirl in your skull and making you go lightheaded and dizzy. And while keeping their hand clasped tightly over your mouth, the person that cages you in slams your back into the cold wall and knocks the air from your lungs.

The eyes that meet you are cat-like and dancing wildly, the grin the man you're faced with now smiles at you wickedly, and when your hands dart up until your nails dig harshly into the skin of his forearms, his smile only widens.

“Now,” he starts, the remains of a chuckle shaking his chest and his words slightly, “what exactly are you up to?”

You wait for a moment for him to release you from his hold, and when after a minute or so he still hasn’t budged, all you can offer in response is an annoyed arched brow.

“What?” he has the audacity to ask with taunting sincerity, “you thought you were smart enough to go wandering around, so you should be smart enough to figure out a way to talk around my hand right?”

It’s with immense irritation that you realize the two possibilities you’re faced with.

From the book you know about the weird concept of soul mates or whatever they were meant to be. The woman and the mysterious dancing girl she met so many years ago, and similar stories from the friends she met during her many visits to the club who had almost identical tales that she had to recount.

So with that information you know the possibility of this grinning man being your person is high, but your person or not, he was lighting a fire in your chest regardless.

You don’t think or even weigh the negatives before you send him a hard glare, and you show very little hesitation when you push forward to sink your teeth into the first finger you can catch.

His yelp is covered by the blaring music, but you hear it loud and clear before he reaches his free hand up to pinch at the bridge of your nose to pull you off like a rabid kitten.

“You know what I’m up to,” you huff petulantly as you lean back into the wall with your arms folding over your chest, “or at least I’d assume you’d be smart enough to use your context clues right?”

His lip curls when he glances back up to you as he pets at his now bruising finger, but even with the thin veil of irritation on his pretty features, you can tell he enjoys the sarcastic tone you’ve adopted.

“Yeah you’re sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong,” he bites back as he steps closer, crowding your personal space and pushing his chest tightly against yours, “you’re lucky I’m who caught you and not boss man.”

“Boss man?” you ask, trying not to show you excitement over him spilling the treasured information about the club that you want so desperately.

He doesn’t answer you verbally, and the sly wink he throws at you shocks you more than you would like to admit, but when he tilts his head back quickly you don’t hesitate to follow his line of sight to the edge of the balcony.

If it weren’t for the thin wires of light that create hatching over his eyes and mouth, you probably would have missed the masked figure that leers at you from over the railing. His hands and shoulders are covered by the masses of flowers, and the hollow black where he hides his eyes stares down at you two with a look that you assume is annoyance and possible curiosity.

The moment you two look up, the figure jerks back. Your eyes flick quickly between him and the man in front of you, and from the bratty grin he wears as he looks up, you feel as if the masked man didn’t have any intention at being caught.

You get lost slightly in staring at the man pressed against you, his teeth that look sharper in the red lighting and his eyes twinkle in mischief, and even with the obnoxious start to your interaction, you’d be lying to say you don’t find him beautiful.

It takes you a second to regain your senses, tearing your eyes away from the fascinating side profile of the man, but when you glance back up to the balcony, the mask man has retreated back.

“He doesn’t like much when we take people back there before they’re ready,” he attempts at an explanation as he turns back to you, and seems unfazed when he misses the mark and just confuses you further, “he let the two goons outside have a little exception, but that's because they don’t know how to go easy y‘know.”

“No,” you shake your head at him with a quiet scoff, “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I think you know more than you think,” his voice drops as he speaks now, and as he speaks he reaches out his hand to hold himself propped against the wall next to your head while his other hand moves to run gently up the side of your neck, “I mean, you know who I am at least right?”

“I have an idea,” you admit with a huff, but you also admit to yourself that this probably means you won't be getting into the hall. You do mentally jot that down as a loss, but decide to take the man pressed against you as a win and you reach to grab at his shirt in retaliation, “but you could at least give me a name to work with.”

“Hm, I didn’t expect you to be one for such formalities,” his head tilts in amusement at his own words, and the action nudges the tip of his nose into yours and makes your heart flutter up into your throat, “but you might as well know the name of the man you’ll be destined to fall in love with.”

You roll your eyes hard enough for them to start to ache, and he quietly laughs and moves to press his nose into the soft flesh of your cheek as he feeds off your annoyance.

“Ten,” he answers quietly, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he moves to whisper the syllable in your ear, and you never thought that with just one word he’d have a shiver rushing up your spine.

You respond quietly with your name, but the word comes out strained and rushed when he begins to nibble on the lobe of your ear and pushes his knee harshly between your thighs.

Both your hands now hold tightly onto the sides of his shirt, and when his lips move to trail against the side of your neck that isn't enveloped by his hand, you tug roughly at the fabric and your back arches slightly away from the wall.

His tongue is hot when he lays it flat on the center of your throat, and when he swipes it up until it flicks against the end of your chin, you can't help but cringe slightly at the feeling regardless of the way it makes heat pool in between your thighs.

The wicked grin on his face never falters, it only grows wider and more hungry when your eyes meet again, and with his staring so deep that you fear he may be collecting every ounce of your soul, you two have a silent agreement on the unnatural waves of electricity that connect you.

When his lips finally land on yours, it's the roughest and clumsiest kiss you’ve experienced. Both of you fight each other with hungry and eager tongues and the way your teeth gently knock together has your skull rattling in a way that, if you weren’t so hell bent of devouring each other whole, you’d probably have to take a breather.

Your hands reluctantly release the wrinkled fabric of his shirt, and in a desperate attempt to stay occupied, they shoot up the tangle tightly into his hair. You admit, you probably tug harsher on the strands than you probably should, but the groans he pours into your mouth, and the way his hips rock roughly into yours, has you tugging again and again.

He presses you further and further into the wall, and without thinking your hips begin to kick and tilt down until you're grinding harshly and sloppily against his tense thigh.

You let out a quiet whine that's muffled and garbled by his moving at the feeling of him pressing his thumb gently into the dip beneath your jaw, and pressing into your jugular. The sound is followed almost immediately by a small yelp when he latches his teeth to your bottom lip and gives you a stinging bite.

You’re frustrated almost immediately with the lack of friction you can feel from the layers of clothing between you, and now the slight shooting pain from the tensing skin between his teeth, you can feel the impatience in your belly crawling up and invading your chest and throat.

He’s quick to pull away when you retaliate with your own nipping bite to his top lip, your teeth still sinking down when he does and making his sting probably just as much as yours. And when he eyes you as his eyelids droop down into an accusatory squint, you assume he’s not used to getting a taste of his own medicine.

He mutters something to himself about your feistiness, and a sly comment about how he shouldn’t be surprised as he was expecting to get a handful, but he gives you no time to make a snide comment or even question about any of the words, before his fingers are closing firmly but loosely around your neck.

He keeps you rooted in the spot that you stand, the only change in your posture he allows is pulling you slightly away from the wall, just wide enough for him to slink behind you and tug you roughly back into his chest.

“You like poking around into business that isn’t yours?” he asks rhetorically as his free hand reaches around your shoulder to push past the neckline of your shirt, and right as he pressed down the center of your chest and his fingers brush the bottom of your rib cage, his fingers curl and he starts to drag his blunt nails up your sternum as he continues, “need to know and see every single little thing right? So… what’s the harm of being on the other side of it for once?”

“What are you on about?” you as sharply as you try to turn your face towards him the best you can, but his hand tilts under the bottom of your chin until your head is forced to lean on his shoulder and he’s nothing but thrilled at the way it makes you struggle.

“To be seen, or not?” he presses his lips back against the shell of your ear, and the way he whispers roughly makes you shiver again as your thighs press tightly together, “you know what I mean, and you know the answer I want, but its all up to you in the end.”

The electric and slightly humiliating buzz of being seen in a mass of bodies committing the same sins as you was something the woman in the book went on about frequently. She mentioned that there were a few times where she and her lover snuck off to get alone time of course, but the almost blinding pleasure that came from being worshiped by not only one person, but the eyes of an entire room, was addictive. And you wanted just a taste.

You grumble in response, the idea of admitting to the already confident man that you did indeed wanted the same amount of attention as he did made your chest burn even more than it already was, and you’d rather take your chance with his terrifying looking boss than to give him the satisfaction of your verbal confession.

He seems unaffected by your nonverbal confirmation, the way you press into him as his hand wraps around your waist again and creeps down to the button of your shorts, and your own hand grabbing onto the sleeve of his rolled up long sleeve shirt to guide him to undo the clasp or just dip below the waistband, is enough of an answer for him to know.

He chooses to pop the button, and once he has the zipper pulled down enough that he can work with, he begins to shove the worn denim down your hips along with your underwear until they are wrapped around your knees and he can push his fingers roughly between your thighs.

You try to clear the fog that he creates in your mind from his teasing fingers long enough to reach your free hand back to give the same treatment to the dark jeans that wrap tightly around his hips and thighs in a way that had you mentally drooling from the moment you got to get a full look at him, after he ambushed you of course.

You’re not sure how he undid your shorts so quickly without being able to see, but as you fumble and scratch your nails against the sensitive skin of his hip, you give yourself the benefit of the doubt seeing as your trying to work while his middle and ring fingers tease over your entrance and the heel of his hand presses clumsily into your neglected clit.

He, on the other hand, doesn’t give you any benefit of the doubt. He at least has the decency to press his lips across your cheekbone and temple to muffle his quiet laughs, but to make your task even more difficult, his fingers shallowly curl up into you just enough to make you twist and curl.

Once the button of his jeans finally releases, you instinctively let out a huff and sink your shoulders back into his chest as you reach past the fabric to wrap your hand around his stiff length and pull it from the confines until you can press it against his lower belly. And you get just one tally on your side of the boards you’ve created in your mind when his amused laughs devolves into pleased grunts and tilting hips.

“Please,” you start quietly, trying to rock more against the parts of his hand that press against you while running your palm up and down the length of him and smearing him with his own pre come, “I can tell you’re just as impatient as me.”

He swears in your ear, using his hold on you with both hands to shift your hips up and pull you closer before he clears his throat to speak, “well could you imagine, looks like we are a match made in heaven.”

“More like hell,” you retaliate, digging the heel of your own palm into the skin just below the tip of him to egg him on even further, “but either way, that's the point isn't it?”

“I should have expected you to be just a little bit of a smart ass,” he mutters a half hearted complaint, but he only contradicts his own words when he pushes your hips away enough for you to guide him between your thighs and to glide against the arousal that spilled from your body and his hands spread messy along any available inch of skin.

He thrusts smoothly against your back a few times, bringing his arm down to guide him towards your entrance painfully slow, but when you let out a gravely moan of his name, he cant deny himself for any longer, and he’s sinking into you until your eyes start to gently flutter.

Once he’s seated inside you, his hand tenses slightly tighter around your neck, and when you both start pushing towards each other to meet in the middle of your thrusts, his other hand takes the opportunity to map any inch of you he can reach.

He gropes almost painfully at your chest, traveling over your stomach and up your shirt to dig his fingers into your skin until you swear he’s tattooed his finger prints onto you, all while nipping and lapping at the skin of your jaw and neck.

No one immediately in front of you is watching, they’re all in their own worlds of flesh and saliva, but you can still feel eyes of someone on you. His first and foremost as they burn holes into the side of your skull and glance to watch where you push back against him desperately, but there’s another feeling you get of being seen and studied thats so intense that you’re a little shocked when you chance a glance up and see that whoever the masked person was from earlier wasn’t there at all.

So no, you have no idea who, or what is watching you right now, but you can feel the unusual heat it stirs in you as your body flutters around him as he fucks you sloppily. You feel a deeper relation to the woman that owned the book that still rests in the bag that feel unceremoniously from your shoulder when he first put his hands on you, and you hope that maybe you’ll eventually slip into the life of bliss that she meticulously wrote about and possibly learn what happened that demolished the stories that lived in the back of the journal.

You could feel the pleasure crawling up your spine like a monster out creature, your panting breaths tipping the man that works you over off to this even though you’re sure he was already aware before you were, and you think your legs are back to the edge of collapsing when his creeping fingers dance along the expanse of your stomach to find their place back between your thighs.

Your back stiffens at the first touch of his rolling finger on your clit, and your head tilts even farther back onto his shoulder than he already had it. He doesn’t seem interested in coaxing you to your finish slowly, at a pace that would have mercy on your melting mind and shaking form, but he instead abuses your clit until your whimpering out and stumbling and stepping slightly on his toes.

You feel like you’re waiting out the suspense of a horror film that’s score is too obvious to the incoming jump scare. You tilt your neck in a way that seems normal to him, but in reality your trying to feel the many rings that decorate his fingers with the delicate skin of your throat to test if any of them could possibly be sharp enough to cut you and draw blood. You know what blood means to him, and you know it's something he’ll have to do soon if he truly can feel how close you are to the edge.

You feel like you’re floundering a bit, confused from the possible deviation from the story you’ve committed to memory. Was there any chance in this world that this wasn’t your person?

You push this thought away as soon as your panicked mind can construct it though, because there’s no way the spell that it feels has been placed on you would be there if that was the truth, and your body is heated almost like a furnace, but you suddenly love the idea of being burned by him.

You pull in a gasping breath of air that pierces through the music and grunting that rattles in your ears, the taste of your orgasms dancing on the back of your tongue and your back arching so harshly you fear that one of your muscles might seize up and cramp. And right when you feel his hips start to stutter in tandem with yours, and when you’re only seconds from blabbering out mixed syllables that you could only hope would come out as a coherent question, you feel it.

His teeth latch onto you again, his canines not sharp enough to make a clean cut as they dig into the muscle of your shoulder, but his determination is strong enough.

It burns painfully, and makes hot tears well up in your eyes, but almost embarrassingly, is the exact thing that pushes you scrambling over the edge.

You feel like it hurts to breathe, your lungs so focused on letting out puffs of air and broken moans that they can't seem to remember how to bring oxygen in, and your eyes roll for a completely new reason for the man and much more painfully.

It’s when you feel him start to suck the rushing blood from your newly christened wound that you also feel the rumble of his groans against your skin and feel him start to come inside of you. His fist tightens again around your neck as he pushes aftershocks through your nerves with his own orgasm, and with flying hands you grab at both of his wrists, not to ask in any way for him to ease up, but from a sudden wash and need to hold onto him possibly until you die.

He lets you collapse to the floor once he pulls out, but he follows your sinking form and sits alongside you and partially underneath you as you both try to catch your breath.

The club scene in front of you is now blurs of flashing lights and abstract writhing forms, and if it wasn’t for the zaps of energy you feel from every brush of his finger tips, your brain would probably be too muddled to register him fixing both your clothes and his.

You become just slightly more aware when he shifts your body against him enough to grab at the strap of your bag with the heel of his shoe, and you try to sit up faster than necessary and give yourself a small head rush when he pulls it to himself and flips it open.

“You seemed a little weirdly unaffected by the whole,” he flails his hands in front of you for a second as he speaks, and your lagging mind takes a second to catch up with his attempts at implication, “not the fucking part clearly,” he teases, “but the leading up to it. The meeting part and all.”

“I know what this place is,” you admit, and if your legs had gained just a bit more strength you probably would have stood and requested a glass of water just from how gravely your voice had become, “I knew I was probably going to run into you.”

“But you weren’t looking for me,” he tries, and fails, at hiding the slight edge of offense his voice shows, “if you knew I was here why didn’t you look for me?”

“I didn’t worry about it,” you say, warming up a bit again in the fear that it may have come off slightly rude, “or, like, I mean I knew you’d be able to find me easier than I could find you. I was more interested in finding answers.”

“Answers to what? You said you knew this place, or at least what it is?”

“Well I only know the basics,” you shift in his hold, knocking his hands away as they sift through your bag, and grabbing blindly until you can pull out the book, “I found this journal and it-“

“A journal?” he asks in a volume that could have been obnoxiously loud if it weren’t for the thumping bass that shook the floor beneath you, and pulls the small book from your hands.

“It was written by a woman who came here a long time ago,” you explain, deciding to not take offense to his rough and grabbing hands, “I found it and tracked the club down, I needed to see if it was real.”

“Oh it's real alright,” he laughs as he starts to flip through the pages, stopping for a moment to smile at a simple sketch she had done of a cat that she said lived in the back alley, “hey wait I think I know this name, and these people.”

“What are you on about?” you ask with a scoff as you tug the book from his grubby fingers, “you can’t possibly know these people, this was written in like the fifties. Stop pulling my leg.”

“Oh I see,” he smacks your thigh playfully as he leans over your shoulder to glance at the first page that mentioned anything about the date, the ink clear enough to read 1953 in the swirling handwriting, “you think you know everything.”

“I do know everything, fuck you,” you glare playfully at him over your shoulder, “or I would know, if you’d let me go into that weirdo hall.”

“No hall, for now at least,” he sighs, the gears in his head turning as he thinks of the next thing to say, “but you know, time doesn’t exist the same way here, the woman who wrote this probably didn’t know that at the time, so I’m not surprised you don’t either.”

“What do you mean time doesn’t exist?” you look at him as if he’s grown a second head, but do you really have the nerve to question him like that? Considering that entire concept of the club you are very aware of its existence now, a time situation shouldn’t be the most shocking should it?

“Well, it's hard to explai-“

“Then don’t explain it,” you almost jump fully out of his lap at the deep voice that rattles above you, and both him and you look up at the figure that looms over you now.

The man is tall, his black hoodie looking weird in contrast to the clothes of the other club goers, and with a squinting observation and a familiar and annoyed sigh from the man seated behind you, you realize you’re being stared down by the mysterious entity that is the DJ, his hands shoved deep into his hoodie pocket in annoyance.

“Huh?” Ten lets out more in the form of a noise than a word, as his arms wind tightly around your form.

“I said don’t explain shit,” the man begins to tap his foot in irritation as he speaks, and you wonder if he’s aware that he’s in rhythm with the song that surrounds you, “you need to chill out with the loose tongue, its bad enough we have the big mouths outside.”

“I wasn’t gonna go that far,” Ten sounds reminiscent of a scolded toddler, and considering the man is hindering you from getting information that you wanted so badly, you can feel yourself mirroring the pout he wears, “I know what I’m doing alright man? Why are you over here anyways, shouldn’t you be at your little booth minding your business.”

“No one minds their business over at that booth, and you should know that better than anyone pervert,” the words are sharp, but the curl to his lips and the underlying playfulness to his tone tells you the likeliness of them being friends is high, “anyways, I know we don’t follow any regulations or anything here, but I’m still gonna take a fuckin’ break or two.”

“Well breaks over,” Ten reaches out a hand to playfully swat the man away, “I didn’t wait this long for you to just interrupt my bonding time with my person alright?”

“Alright, alright,” he finally starts to shuffle away, throwing one last comment about Ten being bitter his person showed up first over his shoulder with a grin.

“What a loser,” Ten starts, looking at you playfully and rolling his eyes, “too bad he’s like my best friend or whatever.”

“You seem to have a lot of fun around here don’t you?” you take a shot at voicing your observations, your heart fluttering in a completely new way at the warm smile he shoots you.

“Just wait a see, my love. Just wait and see.”

[demonicheadcanons]

Can I get the brothers reacting to finding MCs sketchbook and it’s filled with drawings of the demon who picked it up? All of them are masterpieces and some are angsty or sad, others happy, some just them doing mundane things. When confronted, MC just says “Of course I draw you all the time, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. You’re my muse.” Thank you in advance, if it’s too complicated you can skip.

AN: This cute prompt has been sitting in my inbox for far too long. Thanks for sending this in Nonny <3 I love this idea. I tried to keep each scenario short so I could get this done quickly, as you’ve waited long enough for it. Tried is the key word here ;u;

You’re maybe already dating the boys in these? Or very close? They’re not explicitly romantic but have some affection. I also didn’t make the MC say these exact words, or even anything at all in some of these prompts, but the general feeling is still there. I hope that’s alright!

Lucifer

You left the book behind when studying together, rushing off to meet up with Mammon after you realised you were late and would hear hell for it. He notices it sometime later, too busy relishing on even the short period of time he’d gotten to spend alone with you in relative peace.

He picks it up and, curious, with no worries that you might not really want him to look through it, he flips it open to the first page. He realises what it is right away, and continues to flip through the pages until he gets to a drawing of him. Its such a perfect represention of the moment that he can recall exactly when you must’ve drawn this.

You’d come into his room to have a break from all the noise in the rest of the house, and you had laid on your stomach on his bed and worked away at something as he went through paperwork at his desk. He’d wanted to ask you, at the time, what had you so focused, but he hadn’t wanted to ruin the sight.

He continues to flip through the pages, and frowns slightly for every drawing he sees of one of his brothers, but his lips twitch up every time there’s even a simple doodle of him. He counts, unconsciously, and realises you’ve drawn him more than anyone else. Pride swells in his chest, so very familiar and not at the same time.

He hears the tapping at his door and calls out, immediately, for you to come in. He knows that knock, after all, and you’re one of the few members of the house that he wouldn’t hear coming down the corridor. He leans against the front of his desk, holding your book open in front of him, not bothering to hide the fact that he’d looked through it.

The particular sketch he’s looking at is one where you must’ve been close - you’ve detailed in every long, delicate eyelash, his hair falling in front of his face and his lips slightly parted, only the faintest frown on his face as he focuses hard on his work. He smiles as he tips the book forward, watching as your eyes are drawn to it. To his surprise, you only smile, relieved, raising a hand to your chest.

“Thank goodness, I did leave it here after all.”

You walk over and hop up onto his desk, leaning towards him as you try to see which sketch he’s looking at. He slouches a little more to make you comfortable and shows the sketch.

“You’ve drawn me a lot,” he comments.

“Of course. You’re beautiful, how could I resist?”

He presses a kiss to your temple and rests his head against yours, smiling. He doesn’t often like people commenting on his appearance - he was confident enough about it, knew how he looked, but he didn’t need to hear about it all the time. Still, from you, it didn’t hurt. Especially not if you felt inspired enough by it to draw him.

.

[[Other brothers are under the read more]]

Mammon

Mammon had burst into your room and you weren’t there. Frustrated by your absence and unsure of when to expect you back, he decides to pick through your stuff. He wasn’t going to steal any of it - he’d been called out by Beel about that, before, and whilst he’d denied it at the time he knew it was true. He’d much rather steal something for you than from you.

The book is open on your desk to a page full of mindless doodles. It piques his curiosity, and he grabs it and sits down, kicking his feet up on top of your desk. It wasn’t like you were there to tell him not to, and you’d left without telling him where you were going so he was going to do whatever he wanted until you got back.

He flicks back to the start of the book, and honestly his first thoughts are about how you could easily sell these drawings for a lot of Grimm. Sketches of the Devildom, of flowers and creatures you couldn’t find in the human realm, of how the Devildom looked all lit up with the moon overhead, from the highest balcony in the RAD building. He’s in awe, mouth a faint ‘o’ shape as he continues to turn page by page.

The first drawing of him makes him freeze up. He was a model, Mammon knew he must be handsome. But he’d never felt it like he did now. In the drawing, he’s sitting on the floor, cushion in his lap as he plays some game on a controller. His expression is somewhere between frustrated and delighted, his hair fluffy and messy because he’d been running his hands through it.

He remembers - you’d been having trouble adapting to the Devildom so he stole- borrowed a console from Levi, but you were too tired to play. He played anyway, hoping that at least watching him would distract you enough, and to convince himself that he was in part doing it for him too and not to entertain some random human.

You walk in and he slams the book shut, but its too late - you’ve seen him holding it. You don’t seem mad about that, though, and instead glare at how he has his feet up on your desk. He adjusts quickly, fumbling as he tries to put on his confident act, walking over to you as he waves the sketchbook in the air.

“What’s this, then? You’ve been drawing me without asking me first?” he asks, teasing lilt falling flat in his voice. His face feels far too warm, as it often does when he’s around you.

“I couldn’t help it. You’re so pretty I just had to.” You shrug, nonchalant. You swipe the book from his hand and sit on your bed, tapping the space beside you. “How far in did you get?”

Mammon pouts as he goes to sit beside you. “Not far.” As he sits beside you, he grabs your sides and pulls you to lay down, holding the sketchbook open up in the air. He’s desperate for some attention right now, but he wanted to keep looking at your art. “Let’s look through the rest together.”

.

Leviathan

Levi was flustered. You’d been spending time in his room, and he loved your presence but it took him so long to get used to it each time that you stopped in to hang out with him. You’d brought the book you always had with you, and were working away on something, laying on your stomach on the floor with a Ruri-chan plushie in one arm.

He fumbles with his controller and sighs as he misses yet another jump in the game he was trying hard to distract himself with. Every time he glances over, he wants to ask what you’re doing, why you’re here with him when you could easily do your work elsewhere or with any of his brothers, if you were really happy to just sit in his presence like this. His voice dies in his throat and his face flushes when he catches sight of you, so he never does get to ask.

He’d messed up one too many times and was starting to get frustrated when he glanced over and realised you were looking at him, too. Heat floods into his face, and his frustrations die before he can even mumble out his signature ‘this is so unfair’. You smile, going back to your work before dropping your pencil. You wiggle around until you’re sitting, cross-legged, and hold out your sketchbook.

It was a drawing. You’d been drawing, and you’d been drawing him. Levi leans closer hesitantly, wanting to get a better look at it, trying not to think about how giddy and anxious your proud smile made him feel. He works up the courage to take the book out of your hands and looks over the drawing. It takes a long time before he can say anything, too busy focusing on all the little details - how his face is scrunched up from frustration and concentration, how his headphone cord is coiled around his fingers from when he’d been playing with it and hadn’t untangled it fully, how his head was tilted to stop his hair from fully falling in front of his eyes.

“You... its really good, but, I don’t... I’m not this handsome,” he mumbles, face bright red, and he flinches when you laugh.

“You are. More-so, actually, but its hard to capture from this distance.”

Levi can’t respond, just swallows. You sigh, something fond in it, and walk on your knees until you can fall against his side, cuddling up to the Ruri-chan plushie.

“Look through the other drawings. I only draw what I find beautiful. That’s why I drew you.”

His smile is faint, but its enough. He’s hearing your words, even if they’re hard to process for him. He relaxes and flips back to the front page, ready to look at the rest of your work with you.

.

Satan

Books were commonplace in his room. They were part of the furniture - quite literally, as they were piled up everywhere, even on top of his bed, although he’d made an effort to stop putting them there so long as you were spending time with him, so that you had somewhere comfortable to sit or lay whilst you were reading.

And yet, he always noticed when one was out of place, or when a new book had joined his collection without his knowing. Sometimes this happened because his brothers had found something interesting but weren’t willing to say aloud that it had reminded them of him, or that they bought it because he might enjoy it, so they’d simply popped into his room and added it to a stack. It was normal at this point.

That’s why he didn’t question it when there was a new book left on his bed, and when he didn’t hesitate to lay down and open it up, curious as to what story one of his brothers had left for him this time. Instead, he’s met with drawings. Amazing drawings of the Devildom, of his brothers... and of him.

There are notes, as well, few and far between, that allow him to place this as being your book. He knew that scrawl. He felt guilty to look through your sketchbook without your permission, but now that he’d already opened it, he was too curious to leave it be. He’d be honest about it later and deal with the consequences then, or joke about how you’d been drawing him without his permission so you were equal now.

The drawings were beautiful, more detailed that he’d seen for casual doodles left in a book without being shown to the subjects in them. He takes his time to look over each page carefully, each drawing filling his heart with something foreign, sweet and sticky like berry pie. He spends extra time focusing on each drawing of himself, wonders how and why you’d made him look so soft. It was hard for him to get portraits done as his presence could invoke anger in others and leave harsh and angry lines and brush strokes on the canvas, but clearly he didn’t have that same influence on you - instead, each drawing of him was more delicate than any of the others, like you’d put more effort in.

Satan returns it to you later, a smile on his face. He does apologise immediately, for looking at the drawings without your permission.

“Its alright. I’m just glad you found it for me.” You’re completely cheery, not bothered at all, and Satan sighs in relief.

“You’ve drawn me quite a lot,” he notes.

“Well obviously. I spend the most time with you,” you say, smiling when you catch the faint pout he covers up. That wasn’t what he had expected or wanted you to say, clearly. Nor was it all you had to say on the matter. “Also, you’re very beautiful. I wanted to try and capture that and keep a little for myself.”

He smiles now, content, and pats you on the head. “If you want me around, you only have to ask.”

.

Asmodeus

You’d been working away at something as he picked out an outfit and fixed his hair, and he’d been dying to ask but he just needed to adjust a few more strands first - you were going out to Majolish together and he wanted to look perfect. He always did, of course, but when the two of you were going out together he put in even more effort than usual.

When he finally finishes, he jumps up out of his chair and rushes over to you.

“How do I look?” he asks, beaming, full of confidence as always.

“Fabulous,” you say, reaching out to readjust a few strands of hair that had fallen out of place from his quick movements. He sits down on his bed beside you and pulls you up until you’re sitting beside him, hugging you around your waist.

“What were you doing whilst you were waiting? You looked so focused, it was adorable~” Asmo chirps, looking pointedly at the sketchbook. His eyes widen in genuine surprise. “Wait, is that me?”

You nod, lifting your sketchbook up so that the two of you could see it properly. You’d been drawing him, just little sketches as he flitted about the room doing this and that to get ready. You couldn’t have spent long on each one, and yet they captured him perfectly. He looked elegant in each, determined and beautiful.

You flicked back to the previous page before he could comment, and Asmo’s breath caught in his throat. This drawing was him, it was so brilliant an example of everything that he was. He was looking at you and smiling, and you’d captured the love and admiration in his eyes so perfectly he wondered if this was somehow a photograph.

Asmo tears up and hugs you tighter, burying his face against your neck. You can feel him smile wide against your skin. He stays like that for only a moment before his excitement bubbles up to the surface and he litters your cheek, nose, and forehead with feather-light kisses. He’d do anything for the one who saw him as he was.

.

Beelzebub

Beel had a pretty normal schedule for each day - he’d exercise, go to school, spend time with you and Belphie or his other brothers if they were around and alright with it, and of course, he’d eat quite a lot. You had a good idea of where he’d be throughout the day, and when you had the time for it, you’d accompany him so he wasn’t alone. Whether that meant sitting on the counter as he dug through the fridge, or laying on the sofa with your head in his lap and your feet in Belphie’s, you just liked to spend time with him.

And, a lot of the time, he noticed you had this little book with you. He’d caught you glancing at him many times, but didn’t think anything of it. He glanced at you a lot, too, so maybe it was only to be expected. He’d gotten used to the butterflies in his stomach when you two randomly linked eyes and you grinned, twirling your pencil around in your hand.

A lot of your time was spent together in relative silence, as well, and he was accustomed to hearing your pencil scratch against the paper. But he never asked what you were doing, because if you wanted to tell him you would. He trusted you to do that. And his trust paid off, when you were both watching a show together.

He notices early on that you're paying more attention to him than the screen, and when the episode finishes you tap him gently on the shoulder before stretching out your wrists. He looks to you, tilting his head in curiosity until you hold the book open in front of him.

It was a drawing of him, focused on the screen, odd lighting casting shadows against his form. He had something in his hand, some sort of food, but you’d put more attention into actually drawing him. So much attention that he was sure no matter how long he looked, there would always be something more to notice.

“Its me?” he asks, unsure lilt in his voice. He looks bashful, like he’s done something wrong. “Why?”

You stretch out your arms again, thinking, and finally answer, “Because you looked beautiful, and I wanted to draw you?”

It was neither easy nor hard to make Beel blush, and most of the time it just seemed to happen. You hadn’t caught onto the pattern yet, hadn’t been able to perfect it so that you could make it happen whenever you wanted. But you smile in silent victory now as his ears and cheeks flush a reddish pink, pairing nicely with his wide eyes.

His surprise gives way to a smile, and he leans over to wrap his arms around you, holding you close. All he can manage is a thank you, but with that you know how much he appreciates it, how much he appreciates you.

.

Belphegor

Belphie would often drag you off to the attic, and whilst he enjoyed the times where you would curl up in his arms and nap with him until you absolutely had to get up, he knew he couldn’t expect that of you constantly. You were still human, and you could only sleep so much before you had to get up to stretch or eat or just do something else to occupy your mind.

You’d built up a habit together, now, where if you wanted to get up you’d tap his arm twice and he’d reluctantly let you go. He’d stay awake if you left the room, just enough so that he’d be able to tell when you returned. If you didn’t, he’d have to go seek you out again by himself to drag you back with him and absolutely not just to make sure you were okay. If you did return, he’d go back to sleep and let you do what you wanted, opening his arms up if you tapped on them again to crawl back into his grip. It was peaceful, and though he never said it aloud, he loved it.

Often times, when he did wake up, you’d be sitting nearby in a little bundle of pillows and blankets that you’d made with a book and pencil in hand. You were quick to notice when he woke up, so Belphie could never just watch you to figure out what you were doing, which frustrated him to no end but at the same time it was nice to be known. Still, he was determined to figure it out.

His determination is unnecessary, because one day he wakes up and you’re looking straight at him, smiling contentedly. He woke up too fast, then, heart pounding as he tried to remember that expression. Did you admire him so much to look at him like that, even when he was just sleeping?

“You’re awake,” you say, voice light and cheery.

“And you were watching me sleep, as always,” Belphie scoffs, pulling the blanket up over his face to cover up his blush. “What’s new?”

You pout and stick out your tongue at him, and he lowers the blanket enough to return the gesture. It was hard to remember just how old he was when he acted like that.

“With good reason,” you tell him. He raises an eyebrow, and you smile and hold out your sketchbook. He takes it immediately, trying to act nonchalant as he opens it up and flicks through the pages. You barely catch how his eyes widen, how his breath catches and he slows down, taking in each drawing carefully.

“There are... a lot of drawings, of me sleeping,” Belphie says, swallowing, raising the book enough to try to cover his smile. Too late, you think. You’d caught him.

“You look cute like that. Plus, its the only time you sit still enough for me to draw you.”

“Or you’re just that obsessed with me. Weirdo.” He closes the book and hands it back to you, sitting up to stretch. He keeps his eyes on you, notices when you frown the tiniest bit. Was his teasing too much?

He sighs and slides out of bed, sitting in your pile beside you. He leans against you, like a cat looking for attention without wanting to admit it, and takes your hand in his, playing with your fingers.

“Thanks, MC.”

[sankyeom]

picture perfect | k.m

pairings: kevin moon x reader genre: art student au, strangers to lovers, art!student kevin, actor!reader, another secret admirer situation (yes i know we already did that in my sangyeon fit but it’s cute so idc) summary: in which you find a sketchbook filled with drawings of you, and go on a mission to find the owner word count: 8.5k (these just get longer and longer wow) series: sankyeom’s 2k followers celebration

masterlist

Your psychology professor always spoke a mile a minute, and it made taking notes unnecessarily difficult. Usually when she lectured, your wrist cramped from writing so fast, and your classmates couldn’t wait to get out of the room. On one particular autumn afternoon, you stared into nothingness as your professor gave a lecture on Milgram’s experiments, running lines in your head instead of taking notes like you usually did.

When you were cast as one of the lead roles (who didn’t even have that many lines to begin with) in your University’s winter play of An Ideal Husband, you were ecstatic to be given a new challenge. You had never been involved in acting or theatre before University, and you always felt like you were behind your peers. Your excitement soon morphed into something less productive: fear.

You were so afraid to mess up and disappoint your peers that you frequently did poorly in rehearsals and were the source of your cast’s frustrations. Perhaps it was your lack of experience, or perhaps it was because you didn’t really have any faith in yourself. Either way, it was all you could think about.

As your classmates started packing up to leave, you realised that the lecture was over and that you had just been in your own head for over an hour without learning anything from your class. Scrambling to pack up, you put away your notebooks and pencils as your phone chimed. Checking the text, you saw a message from your friend Sunwoo asking if you wanted to get lunch with him.

Getting to your feet, you texted Sunwoo that you were down for lunch as you exited the now empty lecture hall. As you left, you felt your shoe come in contact with a solid object in the doorway; a notebook that somebody must have dropped on the way out. Knowing that you would want your notes back if someone found them – especially in this class, where your professor spoke way too fast – you opened the notebook to see who it belonged to.

Your breath caught in your throat.

It wasn’t a notebook, it was a sketchbook. With a drawing of you on the first page.

At first, you scolded yourself for assuming that the person in the drawing was you. It was presumptuous of you, wasn’t it? But the texture, colour, and length of the person’s hair perfectly matched yours. The person in the picture had your eyes, skin, clothes, and smile.

Perhaps it wasn’t so arrogant of you to presume that you were being depicted in the drawing.

“That’s a lovely drawing,” Professor Shin, who was on her way out, complimented. “You’re an excellent artist.”

You glanced up from the page, feeling a little dizzy. “It’s not mine,” you admitted, head spinning at the idea of somebody drawing you. Plain, simple, me? You couldn’t believe it. “I just found it here on the floor.”

“Looks like somebody admires you,” your Professor mused, smiling before bidding you farewell, leaving you standing in an empty lecture hall, clutching the sketchbook in your hands.

You tried to find a name on the other side of the cover, but there was no number or form of identification anywhere. The only thing that alluded to an identity was the small signature at the bottom right corner of the drawing.

Moon scribbles.

The first time Kevin saw you, he was seated three rows behind you in one of his Cultural Anthropology classes last semester. You were jotting notes as quickly as possible, brows furrowed together in concentration as you gripped your pen hard enough for your knuckles to turn white.

Kevin didn’t take any notes that day.

All the could do was watch you, appreciating the way your expressions changed as you understood the content, and the hesitance on your face when you volunteered an answer during class.

He didn’t mean to start drawing you. You had simply inspired him to pick up his pencil and start sketching, the soft strokes of the lead slowly but surely forming shapes that resembled your eyes, nose, lips…  

Kevin didn’t think that you’d be all he could draw from that moment onwards. Even during his art classes; if the assignment was to study the scenery surrounding the University and draw a landscape, Kevin couldn’t get the image out of your face out of his head. Whether he used paint, charcoal, ink, or lead, it was your profile that emerged from his efforts.

Today was no different; Kevin was supposed to be studying the Psychology slides from class that day – which he hadn’t taken notes on because he was too busy sketching you – and yet he only had the urge to add the finishing touches to his drawing instead of facilitating his studying. Dragging his messenger bag over to his desk, Kevin rifled through it in search of his sketchbook. He had filled many, many pages with your face at that point, and it had become a habit for him to bring it everywhere with him in case he had the urge to draw.

Kevin furrowed his brows when he couldn’t find it. His heart pounded suddenly, the idea of him having lost his sketchbook in a place you might find it seeming terrifying and disastrous. After a final sweep of his bag – which included emptying it inside-out to make sure he didn’t miss anything – Kevin could only hope and pray that he’d find it before you did.

“You found what?” Sunwoo asked through a mouthful of noodles, his eyes comically large and rounded in surprise.

“A sketchbook full of drawings of me,” you replied in a monotone voice, knowing fully well that Sunwoo had heard and understood you the first time. This was the fourth time you had explained the situation, and it was starting to get a little old.

Eric narrowed his eyes, judging Sunwoo’s eating habits, before turning to face you. “Are the drawings cute?” he wondered.

“I wouldn’t say they’re cute,” you said absentmindedly, thinking back to the drawings you saw. After succumbing to your own curiosity, you had looked through the notebook to see what other drawings there were. You knew this was an invasion of privacy but you couldn’t help yourself. Surely enough, they were all of you.

“They were beautiful. Drawn in such detail that I couldn’t even believe it when I first saw them… And I look genuinely gorgeous in them,” you paused when Sunwoo scoffed at your words. “I’m not saying that to be vain,” you defended. “Trust me, I look much better in the sketches than in real life. Whoever drew them just… sees me differently than I see myself. I look beautiful in the pictures.”

“Your Professor’s right, it does sound like you’ve got yourself an admirer,” Eric teased you, pleased that somebody other than your close friends was starting to see how great you were. He wasn’t your best friend like Juyeon or Sunwoo, but he knew you well enough. “Did you get a name or anything?” he asked excitedly.

“Nothing,” you sulked. “I can take an educated guess that this person is probably in my Psych class since it’s the only class I have in that room, but who knows? It could be anyone that’s seen me before.”

“Maybe it’s one of your fans from the drama department,” Sunwoo poked fun at your cast members, not liking how they were treating you in rehearsals.

“Very funny,” you rolled your eyes, finally picking at your rice and starting to eat. “I just want to know who’s drawing me in such an amazing way. It’s so detailed that I assume it might be someone will a lot of skill, maybe an art major? But a lot of people draw as a hobby who aren’t art majors as well. Maybe-”

Eric interrupted you. “You’re thinking too much,” he said, trying to clam you down. “Just… slow down a little. Maybe they’ll come looking for it next time you have Psych? There’s no name or information so you can’t do anything to find them, anyways,” he rationalised, something that was usually your role in your friendships.

Your eyes lit up. “Moon scribbles,” you exclaimed.

Sunwoo gave you an unimpressed look. “Bless you.”

You ignored his cheek, taking out your phone and going onto Instagram. “The artist signed all of their drawings with a signature that says Moon scribbles,” you explained.

“You know it’s rude to go onto your phone during mealtimes,” Sunwoo replied.

You laughed. “I’ll be sure to remember that for the next time you do the same, Kim Sunwoo.”

After typing moonscribbles into the search bar, you saw an art page by the same name pop up. You couldn’t tell who it belonged to, as the bio vaguely gave information about the artist going to your University, studying art and being a pisces. Since the account was private, you decided to risk it and request to follow them, no matter how strange that might be if they weren’t the person you were looking for.

“I should have invited Juyeon out for lunch instead,” Sunwoo decided, picking at your rice dish in between bites of his noodles.

“Juyeon would rather hang out with Eric than you anyway,” you teased your friend back, knowing that Juyeon and Eric had a deeper friendship despite Sunwoo and Eric being the same age. Eric grinned, amused that the was the topic of discussion and not chiming in to deny anything. “And excuse me, I paid for lunch, you rascal! Now stop complaining, I’m done anyway.”

“Alright, fine. Did anything come up?” Sunwoo wondered, slapping your wrist when you tried to take some of his noodles. You rolled your eyes. Typical Sunwoo: always taking your food but never willing to share his with you.

“I don’t know yet,” you admitted. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

A few days passed without any response from moonscribbles on Instagram. You checked a few times a day to see if they ever accepted your request to follow them, but nothing ever came back. They didn’t deny your request, nor did they let you follow them either. It was frustrating, but it fell to the back of your mind after a week due to your schedule.

You had started doing full rehearsals with your cast members on stage for the play. At first, you thought that the setting might help you remember your lines and act without feeling awkward, but you were wrong. Most of your cast mates thought you got one of the lead roles for an alternate reason; perhaps you were related to someone on the University’s board and the director put you in because they wanted to keep their job. None of that was true, of course, but it didn’t help you make any friends.

The only friend you made was Younghoon, who played the lead opposite you, and with whom you frequently got together to go over lines and practice. He was one of those actors who was a completely different person from his role; he could keep be totally in character while doing his lines and the second the scene was over, he was back to his smiley self.

It didn’t help your confidence that he was an absolute pro. It only made you seem less competent in comparison, and you scolded yourself for even thinking that. Of course you knew it wasn’t Younghoon’s fault that he was simply much better at acting than you, but it definitely hurt your pride even more.

After another disastrous rehearsal, your cast mates had left to go backstage so you could have a word with the director. Younghoon sent you an encouraging smile and a pat on the shoulder before he followed your cast mates backstage, going over his lines in a faint whisper.

“Y/n,” your director began gently. “I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, but what’s up with you?” You said nothing, prompting her to keep talking. “Your audition was really great. I knew I wanted you to play a lead role the second you were done auditioning. But you’ve been doing pretty poorly in rehearsals.”

“I know,” you admitted. “I’m really sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Your director sighed. “Look Y/n, I still want you to play your role. I like your chemistry with Younghoon and I think you guys could be really great leads. But if things don’t improve, I’m going to have to replace you with your understudy for the sake of this production.”

Even though you knew it was the obvious thing to do, it still hurt to hear. “I understand,” you whispered, nodding as you glanced at the floor.

“I really hope you can figure this out,” your director said, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. “Let me know if I can help in any way, okay?” You nodded, and your director excused herself, leaving you standing at the edge of the stage by yourself.

You groaned once you were alone, taking a seat at the edge of the stage and letting your legs dangle over the edge. Welcoming the silence in the theatre as most of the cast had left for the day, you allowed yourself to lay back and close your eyes.

Why couldn’t you get this right?

Maybe I should just quit the play, you thought to yourself. It’s probably for the best.

When you heard the gentle patter of footsteps leading onto the stage, you spoke without opening your eyes. “Let me guess, you came to tell me how terrible I am too?” you uttered, not even caring who it was anymore.

The footsteps paused. “Um, actually, I’m just here to paint the sets…” a soft male voice spoke, causing you to open your eyes and sit up.

A familiar face stood a few metres away from you, paintbrushes and paints in hand. He had black hair that slightly covered his eyes, cat-like eyes and small lips that were pursed at the awkward interaction the two of you had just had.

“Sorry,” you apologised, getting to your feet. “It’s been a rough day,” you paused. “You’re Kevin, right?”

He looked surprised that you knew who he was. “Oh. Yes, actually.”

“I’m close with Juyeon,” you explained, realising how strange it might seem that you knew his name and recognised him. “I suppose I should probably have led with that.”

Kevin smiled. “No worries. I know you as well, you’re Y/n. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Likewise,” you replied, bending down to collect your script and other belongings, pushing them into your tote bag as quickly as possible. “I’ll get out of your hair, then,” you smiled at him, implying it as your farewell.

“For the record, I don’t think you’re terrible,” Kevin confessed, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and starting to mix paints. You glanced at him. “Are you in your head a little? Maybe. But you’re far from terrible,” he assured you, his brown eyes brimming with kindness.

“That’s very nice of you to say,” you replied. “Thanks. Although, you seem more like an artist than an actor,” you added, teasing him just a little. You couldn’t help yourself, he was pretty cute.

Kevin laughed. “Fair enough,” he allowed. “If you want me to brag about being the lead in Aladdin in middle school, then I will.”

You placed your tote bag on your shoulder, holding your hands up in surrender. “I take it back,” you said immediately. “You have more experience than I do on stage.” The two of you shared grins.

“You’ll get the hang of it,” Kevin assured you. “If I can do it then you certainly can.”

He seemed really sincere, and you appreciated it. “Thanks, Kevin,” you said, feeling much lighter and in a far better mood than before Kevin had come on stage. “I’ll see you around,” you bid your farewells before exiting the stage.

You’d have to ask Juyeon more about his friend Kevin.

The next time you and Kevin bumped into each other was after one of your rehearsals a few weeks later.

You had improved in your rehearsal times, with a lot of help from Younghoon – who practiced with you in between classes – and Sunwoo – who you ran lines with anytime the two of you were together. When you were done rehearsing, your director had expressed how happy she was that you were starting to warm up to the stage and really get into the character the way she was hoping you would. Younghoon earned himself two week’s worth of free coffee from you, and your cast finally stopped glaring at you whenever you came to rehearsals.

“Oh, hey,” you greeted Kevin, who started coming onstage to work on the sets with other people who were involved in the production process. “Good to see you again,” you told him.

“You too,” Kevin beamed, his hair falling over his eyes just slightly. You had the urge to brush it out of the way so you could see him better, but you resisted the urge and scolded yourself for being so forward. “You guys are looking pretty good out there,” he complimented, waving at Younghoon as he left the theatre. His older friend gave him a knowing look, making big eyes at him and puckering his lips to tease Kevin about his crush on you.

“Thank you,” you smiled back at him, entirely clueless to Kevin cursing Younghoon with his eyes right in front of you. “The sets are really coming along too,” you commend him, gesturing around you. “It’s certainly adding some more colour to our rehearsals.”

“Glad to hear it,” Kevin replied. “Set painting isn’t exactly my vocation or anything, but it’s a fun way to help out with my skillset.”

“Skillset?” you echoed, tilting his head in curiosity.

“Ah,” Kevin cleared his throat awkwardly. “Um, I’m a fine arts major. So set painting is a little less refined than what I usually do. Not that I’m bragging,” he added quickly.

“Not at all,” you agreed, your eyes widening in realisation. “Fine arts, that’s a really cool major. You must be pretty talented to get into fine arts here, it’s such a competitive major,” your eyes widened in sudden realisation. “I’d love to see something of yours that doesn’t involve painting sets,” you motioned to the stage around you.

Kevin almost blushed. “Really?” he asked, his heart beat hammering in his chest at the idea of you seeing his art.

“Yeah,” you nodded your head eagerly. Partly because you were really curious about his art, but mostly because Kevin was pretty damn cute. “For sure! I mean, if you come to opening night of the play, I’d love to go see your art some time.”

“How’s this Saturday?” Kevin asked, his words almost slurring together at the speed he was talking. “The art department’s putting on an exhibition and a few of my drawings are going to be in it.”

“That sounds great,” you agreed. “Do you think I could bring some friends?”

Kevin nodded, his deep brown eyes brightening at the idea. “For sure! I already invited Juyeon but you can bring Sunwoo along as well.”

“Then I’ll be there,” you promised.

“Oh my god, are you touching the art?” you heard Kevin exclaim semi-loudly. You froze from your place, pointing at the water fountain from which you were filling up a cup of water to drink.

“What?” you asked dumbly, your eyes widening as Kevin smirked, hiding his laughter.

It was the Saturday of Kevin’s exhibition and you were doing your best to blend in with all the artistically-minded people in the room; admiring the paintings, motioning at the sculptures and pondering over the meanings behind the light exhibitions.

“I thought this was just a regular water fountain,” you tried to defend yourself.

“It is, I’m just messing with you,” Kevin shrugged, causing you to exhale in relief and slap Kevin’s arm.

“That was awful of you,” you scolded, unable to hide the large grin making its way onto your face. “You suck.”

“So I’ve heard,” Kevin retorted easily. “Hi. Thanks for coming.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” you replied. “So, when am I going to see your pieces?” you asked, motioning around the room. It was filled to the brim and people were bustling around the room to get a good look at every piece.

“Right now if you’re up for it,” Kevin suggested, waving as Juyeon and Sunwoo made their way over to the pair of you. You had excused yourself to get some water when Kevin spotted you and came over. “Hey guys. Sunwoo, good to see you again.”

“You too,” Sunwoo replied courteously, which was unlike him. Sunwoo knew Kevin vaguely through Juyeon, who was the same age as Kevin and had a lot of classes with him, and Eric, who Kevin often hung out with because they both spoke English. “Any of these yours?”

“A few,” Kevin said modestly.

Sunwoo nodded, looking around. “Are they good or are they more… conceptual?” he asked, his own way of asking whether or not Kevin’s art was a piece of crap or not.

You rolled your eyes. “Your eloquence astounds me, Sunwoo,” you said sarcastically.

“Well I might as well get to the point,” Sunwoo chided, glancing back at Kevin. “So?”

Kevin, who was observing you and Sunwoo with the same amused smile that Juyeon was, motioned the three of you over as he led you in the direction of his drawings. “I’m not so sure if they’re good, or conceptual, but I suppose you could judge that for yourself,” he told Sunwoo, coming to a halt in front of a display of drawings.

The drawings were lively and bright; colours in the form of pastels and charcoal bringing richness and warmth to the image. Most of his drawings depicted a faceless person. There were multiple drawings where the person was being portrayed from the back, and ones that were head-on didn’t have any facial features.

“These are amazing,” you breathed out, enchanted by the creativity of the drawings, as well as the immense detail that went into them.

“I like them,” Sunwoo decided, causing Juyeon to nod in agreement.

“They’re really good,” Juyeon complimented his friend, patting him on the shoulder. “I’m really glad you decided to put something on display this year.” Juyeon knew all about the artistic slump Kevin was in last year, so he didn’t have any art on display.

Kevin thanked Juyeon quietly, still studying your expression. “Can I ask why they’re faceless?” you asked, tilting your head as you studied the drawings further.

“Ah, that,” Kevin began, an uncharacteristic shyness appearing in his tone. “Well, I’ve been inspired by somebody for a few months now,” he explained. “I suppose I made my drawings faceless because I don’t want people to know who my muse is. I’m not ready to face how I feel when I draw them yet, and I think it’s too personal to put in an exhibition.”

You nodded your head, understanding where he was coming from. “That’s really great. I hope that one day I’ll get to see their face,” you said kindly, genuinely enjoying his art. Your eyes widened as you realised something. “Hey, do you know the other students in your major well?” you asked him.

Kevin raised an eyebrow at your sudden change of topic. “Yeah, I think so. We’re a small major and I have all of my 300-level classes with all the same people. Why do you ask?”

“Would you be able to recognise one of your peer’s work?” you inquired, the sketchbook in your dorm room burning a hole in your mind. He might be able to solve my curiosity.

“Maybe,” Kevin drawled slowly. “Why?” he found your sudden change of pace surprising. “What’s up?”

“Well, I found someone’s sketchbook in one of my classes and I was wondering who it belonged to,” you began, hesitating before bringing up the sketchbook you found in your Psychology class. “But they didn’t put their name on it so I can’t return it to the owner. It was really detailed and skilled work, so I thought they might be a fine arts major.”

Kevin’s heart plummeted into his stomach.

His worst nightmare had come true: you had found his sketchbook. His sketchbook that was filled with his heart-felt drawings of you. And here you were, asking him if he knew who it belonged to. Somehow, it was equal parts thrilling and mortifying.

Sunwoo, having heard about your secret admirer decided to check out a different part of the exhibition, but Juyeon – who was hearing this for the first time – stayed out of curiosity. “You found someone’s sketchbook?” he repeated. “What was in it?”

You laughed awkwardly. “Oh. Well, here’s the thing… There’s some drawings of me in it,” you admitted, feeling shy about divulging everything about the sketchbook to Kevin. “I just… I guess I want to meet the person that made me feel so vibrant and beautiful when looking at the drawings.”

“You have an admirer,” Juyeon realised, beaming at you; eyes squinting into little crescents. “That’s adorable. Does it say anything inside?”

“Yeah it does, actually,” you told him, giving him a smile before meeting Kevin’s eyes again. “All of the drawings are signed with the handle Moon scribbles,” you recalled. “No name or phone number, though.”

Juyeon’s brows furrowed together. “Kev, isn’t Moon scribbles-“

“A really interesting name?” Kevin cut Juyeon off, sending him the clear message that he wasn’t ready to tell you about the fact that you were his muse and he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

Getting the message, Juyeon eagerly agreed, thanking Kevin for finishing his train of thought. “Um, I don’t think I’ve heard of it before. But if you show me the drawings, maybe I could recognise the style?” Kevin suggested, coming up with a solution for you to find the owner of the sketchbook.

“That would be really great, actually,” you acknowledged. “I could bring it by the next time we hang out,” you suggested, excited to figure out who you should thank for their hard work.

“Next time?” Kevin echoed, excitement filling his stomach. “Are you really so eager to solve your mystery?” he teased you.

“Well, you’re not such a bad addition,” you added with a wink.

Kevin’s heart soared.

You met up with Kevin in the library a few days later to show him your sketchbook. It was good timing because you definitely needed to study for your Psychology class after zoning out in your last few lectures, so the library was the perfect setting to meet.

“Hey,” you greeted Kevin, taking the seat next to him on one of the sofas in the more secluded area of the library.

“Hi,” Kevin mumbled in return, his voice sounding quieter and more hoarse than usual. At first, you thought it might be the fact that he had to whisper that made him sound more quiet. Then, you spotted the dark circles under his eyes and the fact that he was wearing glasses, which he didn’t normally do.

“You okay?” you asked him, seeing him stretch out and yawn in his seat.

“Me?” Kevin murmured, meeting your gaze with tired, glazed-over eyes. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Not to sound like an asshole who’s telling you that you look terrible, which I’m not, but you look really tired,” you had to tell Kevin. “Are you sure you’re up for this? You look like you could use some sleep.”

“Sleep,” Kevin said the word like it’s funny. “Sleep and I… we aren’t friends.”

You smiled sympathetically at your new friend. “Up all night studying?” you wondered.

“Insomnia,” Kevin corrected you.

“Ah,” you nodded in understanding. “So sleep is… a distant acquaintance?” you played off his previous joke.

“Something like that,” he allowed, moving his glasses up onto his forehead to rub his eyes. “I’m good, though. I look like this most days, don’t worry about it.”

“If you say so,” you trail off, your concern still not being calmed by Kevin’s explanation. “We can do this anther time if it helps, though. I wouldn’t want you to be unwell because of me.”

Kevin grinned, adjusting the beanie on his head. “But I couldn’t possibly be unwell if I’m around you,” he said, pointing his finger in the air as if he had made an excellent realisation. “Now, show me the sketchbook.”

You pulled the sketchbook out of your tote bag and handed it over to him.

Seeing it right in front of him, Kevin could confirm that it was definitely his sketch book that you had found. Although the chances of another person on campus being entirely smitten by you to the point where you became their artistic muse was slim, it wasn’t zero.

“Can I,” he motioned to the sketchbook, asking for permission to open it. It was incredibly ironic, but Kevin was too embarrassed to come clean about the sketchbook being his.

“Go ahead,” you nodded, telling him to flip through the pages.

Kevin did so, pretending he was seeing all the drawings for the first time. He paused on every page, looking over the details in the sketches and the way they realistically depicted your features. Even though he was the one who drew them, Kevin could admit that the drawings were really great. They were great because he appreciated the subject and was inspired by you. That much was clear to anybody.

“Wow,” Kevin said when he was done looking at all the drawings, holding the sketchbook on his lap. “That’s… you,” he observed, as if he didn’t already know.

“So I’m not crazy?” you asked immediately, biting your lip. “That’s me?” you glanced down at the open page in front of Kevin, seeing the resemblance between you and the person in the drawing.

“Oh it’s definitely you,” Kevin confirmed. “Unless you have an identical twin somewhere out there, there’s no doubt in my mind that it’s you.”

You let out a relieved sigh, leaning back onto the sofa. “Okay, good. I thought I was being really shallow and presumptuous at first but it’s good that you agree,” you told him, feeling a weight being lifted off your chest. “So, does it look familiar?”

“I’m not sure,” Kevin replied vaguely, wondering how he was going to get himself out of this one. “Do you think I could keep this? Maybe look over it a few more times when I’m not about to pass out,” he added.

“Sure,” you allowed. You trusted Kevin enough that he wouldn’t lose the sketchbook, since all of your mutual friends spoke very highly of him. Besides, you were becoming more impressed by him every time the two of you met. “I hope something comes up. I looked moonscribbles up on Instagram but their account is private and they haven’t responded to my follow request yet.”

Kevin had completely forgotten about his private art Instagram account. Before he was inspired by you to draw, he was in a serious slump and had been spiralling downwards. In this time, he made his Instagram account private in an effort to not think about it too much. Kevin scolded himself for not realising that you would look him up on social media to find him.

“That’s too bad,” he said sympathetically. “Maybe they’ll respond soon?”

“I hope so,” you mumbled, sighing. “I just… I want to meet them.”

“Just out of curiosity, why do you want to meet them so badly?” Kevin wondered. “Because they drew pretty pictures of you?”

“Kind of?” you replied unsurely. “That’s definitely part of it. I guess I wanted to meet somebody who thought I was vibrant and colourful and beautiful,” you shrugged, glancing down at your lap. “Because I don’t think that about myself at all. It’s why I suck at acting, and it’s why my cast mates hate me. I just thought that if somebody out there really thought I was special, maybe I would have a reason to believe it, too.”

Kevin felt butterflies rising in his stomach again, but not in a fluttery, nervous way. He was anxious about what was going to happen. “I’ll do my best to help out,” he said gently. “And Y/n?” you looked back up at Kevin. “I think you’re special,” he admitted. “A lot of people do. Juyeon, Sunwoo, Eric, Younghoon… You don’t need Moon scribbles to be special, you’re already special to us.”

A grateful, shy smile spread across your lips at his words. “Thanks, Kev. For your help, and for saying that. I really appreciate it,” you acknowledged afterwards, realising that Kevin was going out of his way to figure out your mystery while he was dead tired.

Noticing the shift in atmosphere, you cleared your throat and changed the subject, heart hammering. “I’m going to stay here and study for my Psychology class, so you don’t have to stay if you’d rather get some sleep.”

“Psychology?” Kevin echoed. “Are you taking it with Professor Shin?”

“Yes,” you groaned. “She talks so fast that my hand feels like it’s going to fall off after her lectures,” you complained.

Kevin laughed. “I can relate,” he commented. “I didn’t think you were in my class. I’m in section fifteen, what about you?”

“Section twenty-two,” you said, shrugging. “Although I’m glad to hear that it’s not just my class that she’s driving crazy.”

“Ditto,” Kevin agreed. “I actually have to get some studying done for that class too. You mind if I stay?”

“Not at all,” you promised. “It always helps to study with a friend,” you added, pulling out your notes and laptop from your tote bag.

After setting up all of your work, you quickly got to studying, cross-referencing terms from your notes to the textbook to make sure you didn’t write down anything wrong in your hurry. Kevin was silent and still beside you, which you took no notice of because you were so focused. In your distraction, he soon drifted off to sleep with his pencil still in hand, head lulling back to rest on the sofa as his eyes shut by their own accord.

Forty minutes later, you had finished both of the units on Social Psychology and furrowed your brows at an unfamiliar name. “Hey Kev, did you guys talk about-“ you paused after turning to face your new friend, seeing that he was peacefully sleeping, his head now leaning to the side to face you.

The sight of him sleeping peacefully warmed your heart, especially after he had talked about his insomnia earlier. Smiling, you pulled your headphones out of your tote bag so you could listen to the recorded lectures in favour of waking up Kevin to ask him for help. As carefully as you could, you slid the pencil out of his palm and placed it to the side so he could get some rest.

You spent the next half an hour studying in silence, until you noticed Eric, Sunwoo and Jacob walking up to you and Kevin. “Hey,” Sunwoo greeted you, earning a wave from you.

“Hi guys,” you whispered back. “What’s up?”

“Are you and Kevin dating?” Eric interrupted whatever Sunwoo was about to say, an excited glint in his eyes. “You guys are in the make-out section of the library!”

You made a face. “That’s why nobody’s here?” you realised, looking around and frowning. “No, Eric. We’re just studying together.”

Jacob grinned. “Looks like Kevin’s making really great progress on that front,” he teased. “I’m Jacob, by the way,” he added, since the two of you hadn’t properly been introduced yet.

“I’m Y/n,” you replied. “Nice to finally meet you! These rascals have told me all about you,” you motioned to Sunwoo and Eric, who beamed proudly.

“I’ve heard a lot about you as well,” Jacob replied. “And I’ve come to collect Kevin. If he doesn’t wake up soon, he’s going to miss his Ceramics class,” he explained.

“Aw,” you pouted, glancing over at Kevin. “He looks so peaceful when he’s sleeping, though. And he said he was struggling to sleep.”

“Yeah,” Jacob agreed. “I hate waking him. Believe me, I’m his roommate so I see it all first-hand. But attendance is graded in this class, so…” he trailed off with a small shrug before leaning over and waking Kevin up.

Kevin awoke, eyes blinking drowsily as he took in the image of four people staring at him. “What did I do?” he asked, wondering what prompted all the attention.

You grinned, finding the sight rather cute. “Your wake-up service is here to tell you it’s ceramics time,” you explained.

“I fell asleep,” Kevin realised. “I’m sorry,” he apologised, feeling bad that you were studying in silence when you were supposed to be helping each other out.

“Don’t be, I’m glad you got some shut-eye,” you assured him. “Go get ready for your class.”

Kevin gathered all of his things into his bag and waved his goodbyes, trudging out of the library with Jacob. “So,” Jacob began, a wide grin gracing his features. “That’s Y/n?” he teased.

“Yes, that’s Y/n,” Kevin replied quietly.

“The famous Y/n?”

“Oh my god please tell me you didn’t say anything to Y/n.”

“What should I have said? Oh so you’re the Y/n that Kevin has been in love with all semester! The famous muse! Nice to meet you, I’m the guy that has to listen to him gush about you.”

“Don’t make me hide your guitar.”

moonscribbles accepted your follow request!

You sat up from where you were lying down on your bed, startled at the notification you had just received. Racing to open your Instagram app, you looked at moonscribbles’s account. None of the drawings on their account were of you, so you couldn’t decide if they were the right person. But they simply had to be. They went to your school, they studied art…

Braving it, you decided to send them a private message.

Hi! I think I found your sketchbook in Professor Shin’s lecture hall. How do you want me to return it to you?

You waited for a response, which came within a minute.

You can keep it.

You were pouting over your cereal in the dining hall when Juyeon joined you, his plate stacked high with all kinds of delicious breakfast foods. “Hey pouty,” he teased you, giving your shoulder a gentle nudge when he took the seat next to yours. His smile never failed to cheer you up, which is why your frown caused concern to grow in your best friend. “Why the long face?”

“I’m never going to meet moonscribbles,” you told him, your eyes uncharacteristically sad and shiny when they met Juyeon’s.

He startled at how upset you were. “What? Why would you say that?”

“They accepted my follow request on Instagram,” you explained. “And they told me I could keep the sketchbook. Then they went offline,” you recalled. “I guess I was wrong about them.”

“I’m sorry. Whoever they are, they clearly have no idea what they’re missing.” Juyeon frowned, sympathetic of your situation and confused about what Kevin thought he was doing.

“What who’s missing?” Jacob and Eric took the seats opposite you and Juyeon, their plates equally filled with breakfast foods.

“Moon scribbles,” you said vaguely, not wanting to get into it with anyone other than Juyeon and Sunwoo. While you were starting to get to know Jacob better, you didn’t feel comfortable enough around them to discuss the matter with them. And of course you loved Eric, and he knew your situation, but you hadn’t anticipated feeling so upset about Moon scribbles’s response.

“Kevin?” Jacob asked innocently, picking up his fork and elbowing Eric so he wouldn’t steal his food. “What did he do?”

Your eyes snapped over to Jacob. “What did you just say?” you asked. Juyeon’s eyes widened, mouth slightly open as Jacob revealed Kevin’s secret to you without even realising it.

“I was asking what Kevin did,” Jacob repeated. “You said Moon scribbles, didn’t you? Kevin’s artist handle?”

“That’s clever,” Eric chimed in, innocently eating his food. “Since his last name is Moon, and all.” Then his eyes widened and he realised the situation, his gaze snapping over at you to see how you were handling the reveal.

In that moment, you’d never felt like more of an idiot.

“Kevin is Moon scribbles,” you echoed, dropping your fork onto your tray.

“Oh,” Jacob paused, reading the room as he saw the way Juyeon was staring at him. “Did you… not know that?”

“No,” you told him, having lost your already minimal appetite. “He didn’t say a thing.”

“Oh boy,” Jacob said awkwardly. “I feel like I definitely just messed up.”

“No, no,” you denied, waving your hand in Jacob’s direction. “Not at all. I’m just glad that I know who it is,” you tried to convince him, as well as yourself. “Did you know?” you asked Juyeon. “That day at the exhibition… You were trying to tell me that you knew it was Kevin, weren’t you?”

“Yes, I knew,” Juyeon replied slowly, confirming your suspicions.

For a moment, a dull pain ached in your chest. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked, hurt that your best friend had lied to you.

“Because I figured Kevin wanted to tell you in his own time,” he explained. “I wasn’t trying to keep anything from you, I just thought he’d do the right thing and explain it to you himself. It felt like it wasn’t my news to tell.”

“Okay,” you nodded. “I understand,” you got to your feet, grabbing your tray after putting your bag on your shoulder.

Juyeon stood up with you. “Are you upset with me?” he asked. “Because I understand if you are.”

You did your best to smile, not caring if it looked real or not. “I’m not upset with you,” you assured him. “I’m upset, but not at you. I have to get to the last dress rehearsal before opening night, so,” you glanced over at Jacob and Eric, who both looked mortified. “Enjoy your breakfast,” you told them before putting your tray away and walking to the theatre as quickly as you could.

“Hey!” your director greeted you when you came in, beaming. “You’re like a half hour early,” she observed.

“Oh, I’ve just come to go over lines and talk to some friends,” you lied, smiling at her before stepping backstage. The set design volunteers were adding last-minute touched to their sets, and you knew that was where you’d find Kevin.

“Hey,” he greeted you when you arrived in front of him. “What’s up?”

“Moon scribbles doesn’t want their sketchbook back,” you told him, as if you didn’t know that he was Moon scribbles. “So you don’t have to keep looking for them,” you added.

“Oh, okay,” Kevin nodded as if he didn’t already know this. “Did you want the sketchbook back?”

“You can keep it,” you declined, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s rightfully yours anyway.”

Kevin paused his painting. “It is?” he asked, voice squeaking just slightly in surprise.

“Yeah, Moon scribbles,” you narrowed your eyes at him. “Besides, it’s the only way you’ll get to see me ever again, anyway,” you added, frowning as you turned around to go. “Bye, Kevin.”

“Wait,” Kevin put his fine paintbrush down to stop you from leaving.

“What?” you asked him, facing him with a raised eyebrow. “You know what, I actually really want to hear this. What exactly is it that you’re going to say to save this situation?” you wondered.

Kevin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean for it to go on this long,” he began.

“That’s a joke,” you accused. “You knew how much this meant to me! Just admit that you were never going to tell me that you’re Moon scribbles.”

“How could I tell you?” Kevin exclaimed, startling you with his sudden increase in volume. “How could I just come forward and tell you that it was me? What would you have thought of me?”

“I’d have thought more of you than I do now,” you retorted. “Look, I get it now. I read the situation all wrong. You don’t think I’m special or vibrant or any of those things. You just drew me because I was there, I suppose,” you decided, feeling your heart dropping in your chest at your own words.

“That is not true,” Kevin denied, shaking his head. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

“I suppose you might have though I was pretty if you drew me,” you allowed. “But clearly, I was putting too much onto this whole Moon scribbles thing, and it didn’t mean anything to you at all. Which is fine, it doesn’t have to mean anything. It just sucks that you couldn’t just tell me that to my face,” you confessed wholeheartedly. “But it’s fine. You can just go back to drawing your faceless muse now, I’m over it,” you lied.

“That’s not why I didn’t want to tell you that I’m Moon scribbles,” Kevin insisted. “I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you to think I drew you just because you’re beautiful.”

“That worked out well,” you muttered.

Kevin sighed. “I don’t care about your looks, as ironic as that sounds. When I first saw you… You exuded an aura. I know that sounds cheesy and not everyone believes in vibes or energy, or whatever, but it’s true. You inspired me to draw and be creative,” he explained. “But I liked you when I met you. When I saw you in class and when I saw you around Sunwoo and Juyeon. You don’t get it. You are my faceless muse. You have been ever since our Cultural Anthropology class last semester.”

That stopped your train of thought. “You were in that class?” you repeated, confused.

“Yes I was. The first time I saw you… I swear, I haven’t drawn anything other than you since that day,” Kevin’s tone was uncharacteristically serious, and you felt inclined to believe him. “No matter how hard I tried. Flowers turned into your eyes, landscapes became your hair; I was a man possessed. I still am.”

“Then why not tell me all of this?” you wondered, frustrated with the situation.

“I thought that if you found out I was Moon scribbles, you’d just think I was shallow,” he paused. “Or worse.”

You rose an eyebrow. “Worse?”

Now it was Kevin’s turn to sound frustrated. “I mean, I’m not so great and special. I figured you’d be disappointed that it’s me.”

Your heart clenched for him. “How could I be disappointed that it’s you?” you asked him. “You’re great. It’s me who’s awful.”

“You aren’t awful,” he denied. “You’re so much greater than you can see. Don’t you get it? You inspired me to create after the most awful year I’ve ever had artistically. I drew you instead of studying, I drew you instead of leaving my dorm, hell, I drew you instead of sleeping. You didn’t misunderstand anything. I do think that you’re special, and vibrant.”

You buried your face in your hands. “Okay,” you spoke quietly, your mind spinning in circles. “I believe you.”

Kevin nodded. “Good.”

You nodded back at him, unsure of how to continue. “So… You have a sketchbook full of drawings of me,” you decided to tease him, just to bring some of the usual lightheartedness you felt around Kevin back.

Kevin visibly reddened at your words. “I mean… I’d be lying if I said it was just one,” he confessed.

You brightened at his words. “You have multiple sketchbooks full of drawings of me?” you exclaimed.

“I made drawings of you for the art exhibition,” he reminded you. “I haven’t been able to draw anything else for seven months. And I draw a lot, so the sketchbooks just started piling up. Plus my iPad,” catching the delighted glint in your eyes, Kevin cut himself off. “You know what, we don’t have to talk about my iPad.”

You smiled, flattered that Kevin had been so inspired by you. “Well, thank you. For filling sketchbooks and iPads and whatever other mediums with drawings of me. You made me feel seen for the first time in a really long time, and I appreciate it,” you acknowledged his efforts. “Is this why everyone acts so weird when we’re together?” you put the pieces together.

“What are you talking about?” Kevin asked, dreading your answer.

“Eric practically skips over to me whenever he sees me now, asking about you and all kinds of other things. Jacob is a lot more subtle, but he looks at me like a proud dad sometimes,” you explained.

Kevin rested his palm against his forehead. “Why are they so obvious?”

“The real question is: Why was Juyeon the least obvious,” you retorted.

“I think he just wanted us both to figure things out in our own time,” Kevin mused, earning a hum and a nod in agreement from you.

“Hey Y/n,” Younghoon poked his head around the corner. “We’re getting ready for rehearsals. Are you going to be done in time to change?” he asked, eyes flitting between you and Kevin.

“Yeah, I’m good to start getting ready. Thanks Younghoon,” you agreed, grateful that your friend wasn’t making a big deal out of what he might have overheard. Younghoon nodded, disappearing with a wink to get himself ready. “Well, that’s my cue,” you trailed off, motioning to the backstage area where you had to get changed for your last dress rehearsal.

Kevin nodded, slightly upset that your conversation didn’t come to a closure yet. “Okay,” he replied. “I guess I’ll see you around?”

You agreed with him, grabbing your bag from where you dropped it on the floor and making your way to the changing rooms. Before you opened the door, you turned back to face Kevin, who had been watching you leave. “I came to your exhibition, so you have to come to opening night,” you reminded him of the agreement the two of you made.

“I’ll be there,” Kevin assured you, taking it as a sign that the two of you could still – at the very least – be friends.

“Good,” you smiled. “And after opening night, we have a few days off so I would definitely be available, say, Wednesday?” you informed him, hoping he’d get the idea.

Kevin brightened up, his posture straightening suddenly. “Oh?” he stammered. “Would you maybe want to get dinner on Wednesday?” he offered. “Like, a date?”

You grinned, your eye dropping into a wink. “What an excellent idea,” you told him. “By the way, don’t bother asking the boys about what I like, they’re completely clueless. My favourite flowers are peonies.”

“Peonies,” Kevin repeated, accompanied by a nod. “Any preferred colour?” he asked, giddy with excitement at the outcome your confrontation had.

You shrugged. “Surprise me.”

note: okay i know you guys waited forever for this so thank you so much for your patience!! i hope you guys enjoyed it xx

[engagemachine]

For the emoji head cannons. Any or all - you know I’m asking about J and Tay 🥰

💜🧺👀🚪

Alright, kids. BUCKLE UP. There's some seriously good stuff in here, including some headcanons written by a good friend and reader, and you don't want to miss it!

💜— How do they say goodnight?

J doesn't—at least not unless Taylor comes and says it first. Usually, he's not even home at night, and she's resigned herself on those nights to having to go to bed without him. She used to try and wait up for him, but she always ended up falling into a fitful sleep, usually on the couch or sometimes slumped over on the barstool at the kitchen counter, her head pillowed on her forearms, a little spot of drool on the counter. She'd wake sometime later, usually with an awful crick in her neck, or with the knowledge that school's in a couple of hours and Mr. J still hasn't come back yet....

It's hard to sleep when he isn't there, and her nightmares are always worse on those nights. Sometimes she gets herself really worked up, convinces herself he's not coming back, that he's abandoned her, that he's bored, he's moved on. It's embarrassing, how quickly she's capable of working her entire body into a full-blown panic attack. She hugs his pillow to her tummy and curls around it in the fetal position, closing her eyes, smelling him, the scent he left behind. Gasoline. Smoke. Sweat. Smells that should affront her, but she finds comforting instead. It's all she's ever known.

A couple of times she's woken after falling asleep at the counter, her homework all spread out around her in a half-moon circle, with a pair of strong arms picking her up. She's usually so sleepy by then that she just does what's natural—wraps her legs around his waist and winds her arms around his neck. He puts her in her bed, as he always does—and without fail, usually twenty minutes later, or maybe an hour—she's creeping into his bedroom and slipping under the covers, scooting across the expanse of the bed until she's curled up against his back. Finally she can whisper "good night", barely audible in the darkness. She traces a tiny heart on his spine with her finger, and then she drifts to sleep.

🧺— Random domestic headcanon

Taylor manages to finagle Netflix from Mr. J--and boy, she had to work for it--but now that she has it, she's obsessed. She can finally watch all these shows that everyone on Instagram and Youtube are always talking about. There's a little community of people on this Youtube channel she likes to watch, this girl who does her make-up and reviews TV shows at the same time. It's so fun, and it always puts her in a good mood. Sometimes she leaves comments on the videos, and one time a couple people commented back! It was so exciting, and she likes chatting with these strangers, especially because she has no one else to talk to, and sometimes she thinks Mr. J gets bored listening to her prattling about stuff he doesn't care about.

Anyway, she's started watching this one show. She asks Mr. J if he wants to watch it with her, but he always says no... and then proceeds to stand next to the couch for half an hour squinting at the TV, as if the events unfolding before him deeply confuse him.

"Mr. J, just sit down!" she says, laughing. But he always says he has to finish working... and then stands there for another thirty minutes until the episode is over.

It's kind of their thing, now, and she thinks he's starting to get really into the show, which is exciting. Maybe she can finally talk about it with him?

But then... but then. She had to know that this episode would come, they've only been hinting at the sexual tension with all the grace of a sledgehammer for the past five episodes, and now, episode six, they're finally doing it, and Taylor. Is. Mortified.

Mr. J is, of course, perched right next to the couch throughout the entire event, standing, hovering way too close, now that she thinks about it, and she reaches for a nearby pillow and holds it up to her face in a poor attempt to shield her blush from him. The characters are moaning so loud, oh my god, she might as well be watching porn--and Mr. J's standing right there! She peeks up to glance at him, once, twice, and the third time she does it, she catches him staring at her, smirking, and she flushes so hard that she gives herself a headache from the intensity of her bloodrush.

Oh, my god. This is the worst.

"Something the matter, sweet pea?"

Oh, he knows. She knows that he does.

But she plays innocent. She's not gonna tell him how embarrassing this is. No way.

"Nope," she squeaks. "I'm fine."

She leaves halfway through the scene, abandoning the couch with some mumbled excuse about having to go to the bathroom--and she hides out there and peeks between the crack in the door until the scene's done.

When she returns, Mr. J looks at her and frowns, picking up the remote.

"Shame you missed the good part," he says, completely straight-faced. She looks at him, blinking.

"Oh," she says, "Well, I--"

"Don't worry," he says, smirking in a way she knows can't be good. "I'll rewind it for you."

👀— What’s their favorite body part on themselves? On their partner?

Okay, so my good friend @darkobsessions1989 was kind enough to provide an answer for this prompt before I had even been prompted with it, and she wrote a gorgeous scenario for both J and Taylor, so with her permission, I'll share both of those here:

She's been sketching his hands a lot lately. Trying to convey their rugged elegance, the sinewy length of his fingers and sharp knobs of his knuckles. She wants to capture their strength and duality. The way those hands have the capacity to be as soft and gentle as they can be harsh and rough. How sometimes, they can even be both at once.

She isn't really sure that's something she's even capable of conveying through lead and paper, but she's been trying anyways. Her sketchbook is a filled with countless renderings of his hands. Various versions of his fingers, knuckles, and palms. Close ups that detail all the little lines and scars across his skin, and more distant takes that sometimes travel a little ways up his forearms. Most are in pencil, but a few have been executed in pen or fine tipped markers--whatever she had closest on hand at the time, really.

She often thinks about the time he'd caught her watching him while she scribbled away on that sort of project. How he'd asked to see what she was drawing, and chased her through the house to pin her to the bed when she was too embarrassed to show him.

She remembers the thrill that rolled through her when he made that suggestive, "If I'd only known..." comment, and how that thrill had doubled as he advanced on her. She remembers just exactly how his weight had felt atop her, how her heart had hammered away in her chest, her tummy jumping with anticipation as he slid her arms up over her head and pinned them against the mattress under a big hand.

She'd been half convinced he was going to escalate things as he'd slid his free hand down the front of her body, and she'd been all too eager to tip her hips up to accommodate. Much to her dismay, he'd backed off. But she thinks--now that she's had more experience with him in this regard--that he might not have if she'd told him what he'd wanted to hear.

She knows now that there are certain things he really likes hearing. The mere thought of most of those things makes her flush crimson. But sometimes... sometimes it makes her do more than just flush.

Which is why she hasn't really been bothering with trying to hide any of what she sketches. She does it right in front of him, even though it kind of makes her antsy when he pays too much attention or stares right back. She tells herself that if he ever sees her drawing his hands again and calls her on it, she's gonna tell him.

She's gonna tell him that she likes his hands, likes everything about them. Their size, their texture. The length of his fingers and the wide width of his palms. The way they look. Their impossible heat, and how they feel pressed against her skin. On her tongue. Inside her.

It occurs to her that maybe that's a part of why she's been drawing them so much. Maybe she's just been looking for another excuse. An opportunity to show him that she does know how to use her words.

Maybe she won't manage to say it all without clamming up, but she thinks she'd like to try. She thinks he'd like that.

--

His favorite body part of hers? Honestly, there really isn't any part of her that doesn't peak his interest in one way or another. He's got damn near every inch of her mapped out in his head, her visage cast and carved out across the meaty ridges of his brain like some grisly work of art. He knows her. Inside and out, both corporeally and otherwise.

That said, if he had to choose just one part of her, he supposes he does have a rather particular fondness for the nape of that long, skinny neck. The faintly raised notch of bone that protrudes there between where the back of her neck and shoulders meet. The way that stretch of tissue, skin and bone seems tailored just for him. For his cupping of the fragile curve of her spine in his palm of his hand, just below the base of her skull.

Sometimes he likes to spread his fingers there, slide them up into her hair against her scalp, or squeeze just a little too tightly at the sides of her neck. He likes the way her breath catches, how she often tries to ease the pressure of his grip by getting closer. He likes the little baby hairs that dust along her hairline there too. How they they get a little frizzy and stuck to the dampness of her skin whenever she works up a sweat.

Truthfully, for how often and closely he's studied her, he could compose an entire anthology dedicated solely to the intricacies of her body--not that he ever would.

🚪— What would kill their trust in their partner/close them off? Could this ever be amended?

Ugh, this is a great question. Taylor's seen (and found out about) a loooot of stuff that the Joker has done that she doesn't approve of/doesn't like. She knows he blew up Gotham University, and she knows about the camera he planted in her room, and the fact that he's been drugging her (which she has been blissfully willing to ignore after their little couch encounter at the end of chapter seven) and obviously a bunch of other horrible stuff he's done. So that being said, if J were to do something to close Taylor off/kill her trust in him, it'd have to be something pretty big. She's tolerated a lot so far in the story, but she isn't unbreakable. It's hard to answer this question without spoiling anything, but suffice to say, you'll have this question answered at some point in Burn.

As for J, I think even if Taylor were to go to the police/were to do something behind his back, these behaviors would certainly be grounds for him losing trust in her--but I also think he'd be of the mind that these little "infractions" could be amended. He'd just have to work extra hard to get her back on his side again--but he wouldn't give up on her. No way.

[thewildomega]

Star in the Sand Ch.24

Going to pull his love back into his arms his felt nothing but the bed and his eyes snapped open, his breath catching in his throat. Seeing that she truly was no longer beside him he quickly tossed the blanket back and stood. Scanning the room he hurried to the bathroom but didn't see her there. Where was she? WHERE WAS SHE?! Noticing the bedroom door cracked he started moving through the house quietly, listening for any threat. As he got down the hall though and into the living room he heard a soft voice. 

"...if I could turn back the time I'd make it all right...something within your eyes said it could be the last night...." 

He knew that voice, the only voice to ever make his knees feel weak. Rounding the corner just as quiet he stood and watched with a small grin on his face as he saw her. She was standing by the counter in the dark, only the light of the moon coming in through the window lighting the room. She wore only his dress shirt that she had been wearing before bed and he felt his lip lift more when he noticed her swaying hips as, the faint noise and the glow from her phone telling him she was listening to her music. When he had produced the thing on the ship she had let out an actual squeal of joy, telling him how much she missed her music. 

"...Just wanna be wanna bewitch you in the moon light. Just wanna bewitch you all night..."

She sung without knowing he was there, her small bare feet tapping on the tile floor. He knew what song that was, it was one he quite enjoyed. Getting an idea he moved towards her. Looking over her shoulder he saw she was making...eggs? In the middle of the night? Had to be pregnancy cravings. Remembering he was on a mission he glanced down to the phone sitting on the counter beside her and grinned as he unplugged her headphones making the music play out loud. 

Yelping out of fright you quickly turned and looked up to him. "Are you trying to make me go into labor early?" you scolded. However he only grinned as he took the spatula from you and set it down, turning off the oven. Seeing a small smirk on his face made you furrow your brows, a light grin on your face as he took your hand and pulled you away from the oven some. Not saying anything as he moved your hands into place and slowly began moving and singing along with the music you could only smile. He was dancing with you. 

"There a sting in the way you kiss me." he sung in his deep voice. Dancing around the kitchen with both of them only in there pajamas he coudl only grin at the large smile on her face. "Just wanna bewitch you all night." 

Giggling as he spun you around and dipped you back you came up and laid your head on his chest "Whoawhoawhoa..." you smiled, closing your eyes as the song ended.

Sighing he continued swaying with her for a few moments, just enjoying this closeness with the woman he had missed so much. Bending down he scooped her up and sat her at the bar while he moved to plate her scrambled eggs. Placing the plate in front of her he saw her give him a smile as he moved to make them both some tea, making her lavender so maybe she will sleep. Taking them both over to the bar with one hand he sat beside her and heard her give him a small thank you. Watching her as she ate he could only sigh in contentment, grinning back at her when she would smile at him. 

.....................................

The next few days had went by peacefully, an odd but not unwelcome change to the past half year. Crocodile wouldn't allow you to do anything that he considered work which basically meant everything but laying about. So you spent you time when he was away playing on your phone, looking over books and planning out what you wanted to do with the baby's room. Sitting back against the wall in what would be your almost certain son's room you had your feet crossed under you and the sketch pad opened in your lap. Tapping the pencil on your finger you bit your lip as you glanced at the room and then back down at the paper, sketching out an idea of a mural you wanted to paint on the wall. Hearing footsteps you giggled when you saw the flamboyant man do a twirl out of the corner of your eye. 

"For the mama to be." Bentham spoke, bending almost in half with one foot raised into the air as he held out a freshly made smoothie on a tray. 

Smiling you looked to your friend and gave him a thank you as you took the drink. Bon had quickly took up making your smoothies in Sanji's place, adding in your vitamins that Chopper had made for you. Going to take a sip he stopped you. 

"Ahah... I almost forgot." 

Watching as he popped a tiny drink umbrella into your smoothie you giggled and shook your head. "You're too much." you told him as he took his seat beside you on the hardwood floor. 

Looking down at the beautiful drawing Bentham smiled. "Oh I like it. I think you should go with that little Croco junior will love it. "

"You think? You don't think it will be too much?" 

"Not at all. Plus it goes perfectly with the music box King Neptune gifted you." 

"That's what I was going for." 

"Besides what could go better for the son of a notorious pirates room than a sea theme?" he chuckled. 

"Very true." you smiled, starting to add in the last details. Holding it up you gave it a final look over. 

"Say what's that blocked area for then?" he asked when he noticed a part of the picture had a missing rectangle in the left side. 

"A door, Croc is having on put in so that way it can be directly connected to our room."

"That's a good idea. It'll make it easier for when you have to get up in the middle of the night to feed him too." 

"Yeah." you sighed. "Poor fella is likely to starve." you spoke glancing down to your small breasts. While the rest of your body seemed to be starting to get back to normal you 'girls' hadn't yet got the message it seemed. 

"Oh don't say that, they'll perk back up and once you have the little bundle of joy they will fill up with milk real quick." 

"I hope so." you said with a sigh. You couldn't help but feel self conscious as you thought on the manner. Ever since you were reunited with your soulmate he had made no move to touch you sexually and you couldn't help but wonder if it was your body, if maybe he didn't find you appealing anymore. Even last night when the both of you had retired to bed for the night you had tired sparking something but after your kisses just started getting deeper he had ended them and stood from the bed, telling you he had forgotten to finalize something on his paperwork. Watching him leave the room you licked your lips and blinked your eyes to keep the tears at bay as you laid back down.

Sensing his friend's sadness he kit his brows and tilted his head, "Y/n... is there something wrong? You know you can confide in me." 

Taking a deep breath you grinned and nodded before looking to him, "Thank you, it's nothing just hormones." you said with a roll of your eyes. 

Humming he decided to let it go for now, not wanting to upset her. "So what colors are you going to do for the bedding and such?" he asked, deciding to just get her mind off of whatever was bothering her. 

............................

There everything was ready for tonight. He had the location ready, a private gazebo on the beach that his men would made sure stayed private. The chiefs had been told what meal to prepare, something she would like but also something that wouldn't harm their child. He even told them to throw together some type of dessert to appease his woman's sweet tooth. Taking the dress he had bought her for this evening to their room he laid it out on the bed, setting the matching shoes and even a new necklace that had caught his attention in the shop. Having already set his clothes aside in one of the other bathrooms so when the time came he coudl change and freshen up he  glanced back to the bedroom door. He coudl hear her and Bentham in their son's future room still and let out a breath as he moved to the dresser to grab the hidden velvet box underneath his spare scarfs.  

Looking down at the ring he grinned, a warmth spreading through his chest. Tonight was the night, tonight he would ask his star to marry him, to become his wife. 

"Y/n absolutely not, get down from there.... Mr. Zero!" 

Snapping the box close he pushed it into his pocket and moved to the room next door to see Bentham trying to keep his soon to be fiancé from going another step up the ladder she had somehow gotten into the room without him knowing, where had she even gotten one?

"Oh Bon would you calm down I'm like two feet off the ground..." 

"And now you are three. You might fall... no...MR.ZERO!!"

"Stop yelling I'm right here." he growled out to the male before moving over to his woman who was now eye level with him. Seeing her look to him and smile he rose a brow. 

Seeing him raise a brow in what you knew was a silent 'what do you think you are doing?' you turned to start drawing out the mural outline on the wall. 

Ignorance, that was her play. Giving a small grunt he looked to Bentham and tilted his head. 

"See you tomorrow Y/n. Don't do anything I wouldn't do." 

Giggling you continued working, "That doesn't leave much." 

"Then you are sure to have a good time." the man laughed as he walked down the hall. 

Huffing out he shook his head even though he enjoyed seeing his darling having a friend. Once he heard the front door close he looked back to her and crossed his arms over his chest as he watched her draw on the wall. "When I said you had free design control of our child's room I didn't mean you would be the one doing the labor." 

"This isn't what I would consider labor, I'm just sketching out the mural." 

"And yet you are standing on a ladder, that I don't even know where you got ... while six months pregnant. I can't believe I am going to quote Bentham but, You might fall. I don't want you climbing things." 

"Croc, hun I'm fine. I had to jump from like two stories at Punk Hazzard." 

"What did that get you, oh yes, a concussion, three bruised ribs, a nice bruise on your face... shall I continue?" Seeing her shake her head he knew what face she was making imminently, nose wrinkled, brows knit together. "Get down." 

Hearing how deep and serious his voice was now you sighed and tuned around to look him in the eye. "If I let someone else do it then it's not going to be done right. It's my artwork in our son's room I want to be the one to do it." Seeing his face remain unbudgingly you gave a small whine and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Baby please... I won't have to be on the ladder the whole time just the parts I can't reach..." hearing him grunt you moved your face to his neck and whined again, beginning to pepper his jaw and neck that wasn't covered by his scarf in kisses. When you felt his arm's uncross and move around your body you knew you were winning, only a little more push. "Pleasssse." 

Closing his eyes tight he grit his teeth. Damn his pent up sexual frustrations. Her mouth on his neck was quickly making him loose his resolve on the matter. As her body pushed up closer to his he felt his cock twitch in his pants. He wondered if she knew how much control she had over him...hearing her beg him in such a sweet little voice he rolled his eyes behind his lids, oh yes she knew, little minx. Sighing he opened his eyes partially but didn't move away from her, enjoying the feel of her mouth on his skin too much. "You will only be allowed on the ladder when I'm in the room. If I am busy then you will not get on it until I am in here and you will not overwork yourself. Am I clear?"

Wasn't what you were going for but it was better than nothing. Smiling you pulled away to look at him and nodded. 

'She has you wrapped around her finger.' Huffing out he pulled her to him, slamming his lips into hers. Tightening his arms around her while still being mindful of their child in her womb he growled lowly when he felt her try to deepen the kiss. He shouldn't, he knew he shouldn't but he wanted it as well. Flicking his tongue out to tease her lips he grinned a little as she quickly parted them, allowing him entrance. Rolling his tongue around her mouth he felt his cock harden more in his pants. 

He was quick to dominate the kiss, as always but you didn't care, in fact you welcomed it. Melting more into his huge frame you felt your panties becoming damp, a pressure in your lower abdomen. When he lifted you up with his hook under your ass and his hand on your back you dropped your pencil to the floor. 

He wanted her, he wanted her so much his body was moving on instinct alone. Carrying her to their room all the while never breaking from her mouth he moved to lay her on the bed but just before he coudl he opened his eyes slightly and saw the dress he had previously laid out. Freezing he felt his muscles stiffen and sighed. Ending their heated kiss he gave a few more kisses as he tried to regain control. 

As he ended the kiss and slowly set you on your feet you couldn't help the ache in your heart as he refused to go any further with you once again. "C...croc did I... am I doing something wrong?"

Hearing how soft her voice was and sensing the sadness in it he closed his eyes for a moment before looking down to her. "No my little star you are doing nothing wrong, you could never do anything wrong. Right now is simply not the time." Seeing her confused and noticing the hurt still lingering in her eyes he kissed her lips and then forehead. Stroking her hair he breathed deeply, reminding himself of everything he had planned tonight. Clearing his throat you stood tall and looked down to her. "How about you go take a shower and get ready, I left something on the bed there for you. Then you meet me in the foyer and we will go have dinner."

You didn't really feel like going anywhere now, your hyperactive hormones making your emotions run haywire. 

"I think you will enjoy what I have planned tonight." 

Hearing this you breathed in deeply and nodded. 

Kissing her head he cupped her cheek, stroking her soft skin with the pad of his thumb. 

With one last kiss to the crown of your head he left you to get ready. Glancing to the bed you indeed saw a dress laying there, an elegant midnight blue dress. Noticing the matching shoes and solitaire diamond necklace you grinned a little. Not wanting to disappoint you moved to the bathroom to get ready for your apparent date.

................................

Standing in the foyer he turned when he sensed his darling behind him. When he saw her he felt his breath hitch in his throat and a smile come over his face. Smiling down at his soulmate he looked over her form. The dress that he saw hanging in the window at the store early this morning fit her perfectly, giving him glimpses of her soft skin and shaping her rounding belly. Running his hands down her bare arms he took her hands while he looked into her eyes. "You look beautiful, as always." 

Blushing you gave him a look over, seeing he was wearing a tie tonight as well as a full suit. He looked incredible and you grinned as walked over to him, placing your hands on his chest. "If Caiman inherits your looks then I sure do feel bad for all the girls hearts he is likely to break." Seeing him blink and then noticing his cheeks getting a little color you smiled. The black suit fit his bulging form perfectly, making his shoulders look wider if it were even possible. His tie the same color as your dress showing you how much he had planned this out. Then again Crocodile always dressed to impress. 

Clearing his throat he pulled away to completely take her in. Seeing her the new necklace he felt pride fill him at how lovely it matched with the star ear rings he had bought her all those months ago. He couldn't wait to add a ring to her collection of jewelry. She had left her hair down but had curled it a little more. Overall she looked stunning. Taking a deep breath he placed his hand on her back and opened the door for her. Walking with her down the street the two of them just talked about this and that, he pointed out different places on the island. Getting close to their destination he turned and blocked her view, "Close your eyes." he said and saw her look to him in suspicion before she obeyed and closed her eyes. Grinning he leaned down and kissed her lips, "Keep them closed." he told her in a deep, low voice. Carefully leading her down the path he was happy he had decided to get her flats. Getting to the secluded area he looked back to make sure everything was perfect before he pulled her slowly into the middle of the Gazebo.

You could hear the soft sound of waves in the background and the gentle breeze making you guess the two of you were close to the sea. His hand rubbed your hip and a little over your belly while his hook was placed on the other side, holding you in place. You coudl feel the warmth of his body on your back and smell his cologne. Feeling his breath on your neck you had to hold back the shiver that ran up your spine. 

"Open your eyes." 

Doing as your soulmate said you let out a small gasp when you saw where you were. Under a softly lantern lit Gazebo sat a stone table with a beautiful meal and two chairs on either side for the both of you to sit on. Around the area were blossoming pink and white flowers, giving you privacy and making the scene even more breathtaking. Feeling him still standing behind you, you moved to look back at him. "You did all of this? Croc this is amazing, it's beautiful." you spoke with a soft smile, looking up into his silver eyes. "Pirate, businessman, fashion designer, event planner. You're just a jack of all trades aren't you." 

Chuckling at her flattery he leaned his head down to place a kiss on her bare shoulder and run his hand and hook along her hips. Running his nose up the curve of her neck and breathing in her scent he sighed. When her hand cupped his cheek and she tilted her head to catch his lips he slowly wrapped his arms around her and held her to him. Moving his lips against hers he felt his member twitch, his arousal from earlier coming back and swallowed hard before pulling away. Kissing the tip of her nose he sighed and moved his hand back to her hip to walk her to the table. "Let's eat before it get's cold."

...................

Chuckling and shaking his head as she told him about how she had helped Luffy send Big mom a bomb he took a swallow of his drink. "She isn't going to be happy when she gets it." 

"I hope it blows up in her fat face." you grunted, shoving your spoon into the tart before placing a piece on your tongue. "Should have sent a note with it.... from your granddaughter, may you rot in hell." 

Huffing he set down his glass. He knew she despised her family, even though she had always wanted one. She would never say it but he knew it hurt her that she would never have the family she had always craved as a little girl. But he would do anything and everything in his power to give her their own family. Seeing her finish off her dessert he stood and moved over to stand by her. "Walk with me?" he asked as he held out his hand for her to take. Pulling her up as soon as her small hand took his he moved his hand to her back, feeling her skin under his fingers where the dress had a cutout.

Walking beside him down the stone path that led to the beach you grinned up softly at the star filled sky.

Seeing her looking up he stared at her shinning eyes and smiled, starlight. "How are your injuries?" he asked, breaking the comfortable silence as they walked down towards the sea. 

Turning you smiled up at him, "Better, that salve Chopper makes works wonders." 

"Good. You are taking the vitamins he made you as well."

"Yes. Nasty things." 

"Foul tasting or no I want you to take them like you are supposed to." Hearing her grumble he got to the area he had had picked out earlier this week and spun her around so she was standing before him. Looking down into her blue eyes he lifted his hand to cup her face, stroking his thumb over her cheek. "You will take them so that you and our child will be healthy. I want nothing more than for you to be as well as possible." 

Grinning you leaned into his touch and looked up at him. Blinking you knit your brows a bit when you noticed him just starring at you. There was a strange look on his face, one you so rarely saw, nervousness. "Croc... is something wrong?"

He had just been thinking of how much she meant to him, of how heartbroken he had been when she was taken from him. Licking his lips he cleared his throat a bit. He had been so sure he would never get this moment again and he wasn't going to mess it up. "I Never thought I would experience love. I gave up looking for my soulmate, assumed I didn't have one. My whole life I have always felt like there was something missing. I did everything I coudl to make that feeling go away, even tried to take over a whole country." he told her and heard her giggle lightly. "As it turns out though it wasn't a something I was missing but a someone, my other half, my soulmate. A much as I hate to admit it I screwed it up in the beginning, I pushed you away and I hurt you. For some reason though you forgave me, like you do every time I mess up, every time I fail you." He couldn't help but look down to the ground for a moment as he admitted his wrongs but quickly swallowed and looked back up to her. "I know I'm not an easy person to love, I know I make it difficult and I want to thank you for never giving up on me." His heart was hammering so hard against his ribcage he was sure it would soon burst from his chest. "You make me feel complete, you make me happy, happier than I can ever remember feeling. You are so loving and caring, beautiful and kind." he smiled and saw her blushing. "Truly if I was to stand here and list everything there was that I love about you we would be here until the sun rose above the horizon." Staring into her eyes he licked his dry lips as he pulled the velvet box from his pocket and moved to one knee. "I promise to care for you, protect you until the end of my days. You have and will forever be the only woman I ever love. I will provide for you and you will never want for anything. My only request of you is that you do me the honor of becoming my wife and I your husband." 

You felt your breath hitch in your throat as you listened to his kind words and then saw him drop to one knee. Sucking in a shaky breath you looked down to see he did in fact have a ring pulled out between the both of you. Snapping your eyes back up you saw him looking at you in pure adoration. "Y...you want to marry me? you asked in a whisper, not believing you ears. Your eyes were already filling with tears as you looked into his own eyes that were even with yours. 

"Nothing would make me happier my little star." Seeing her nod and the tears fall from her eyes he rose a brow, wanting to hear it himself. 

"Yes." you choked out. 

Smiling he had the ring on her finger and his arms wrapped around her in a heartbeat, pressing his lips to hers in a deep kiss.

He was quick to deepen the kiss and you felt your arousal coming back full force. Kneading your fingers into the hair at the base of his skull you grinned and pulled away enough to look up into his eyes, "What do you say we go back home and celebrate?"

Smirking he scooped her up into his arms and felt her mouth move back to his as he made the walk home, this time taking the shortcut. Locking the front door clothes hit the floor all the way down the hall towards their bedroom. Securing that door as well he removed his hook, holding her with his forearm while he dropped the heavy prosthetic to the chair. Feeling her hands quickly unbuttoning his shirt he growled as her hands rubbed over his bare skin. Shuffling out of his jacket and shirt he dropped them to the floor, the price of the clothing not even crossing his mind. Her dress had already been pulled off her shoulders to reveal her breasts and it took him only a moment to set her down to drop the satin fabric to the floor before he had her back in his arms. 

Moving to the bed he crawled onto it all the while holding her to him. When he got close enough to the middle of the bed he lowered them down and held himself up on his left forearm while his hand went to work groping the soft flesh of her breast. Pushing his clothed sex into hers he heard her whimper and grinned before his mouth moved down to her neck. Leaving his mark on her neck and over her collarbone he felt her hands rubbing over his back. 

Deep groans and growls were leaving his throat as he licked at your skin, soothing the pain from his teeth. When his love bites moved down to your sensitive breasts you gasped and heard him let out low hum, his lower half pushing his member into your core hard enough to make you mewl in need. There was no doubt your panties were soaked, dampening his pants as well. God how long had it been, over half a year. Before you were taken it wasn't uncommon for you and Croc to have sex at least twice a week. When he moved his hand between you both, having to arch his back to make room around your baby bump to unbuckle his belt and pants. Biting your lip when he took your nipple into his mouth you felt him suck once and just about came undone right then. 

Hearing her moan he smirked around her nipple, "You sure are sensitive here little star." he growled into her lower breast. He had heard how sensitive pregnant women's breast were but never did he imagine he would enjoy it so much. Giving her other nipple the same treatment he felt her nails dig into back making him growl and roll his now freed member into her panty covered sex. He was so hard it was painful, he needed her so desperately but he wanted to drag this out, to enjoy their first time together in so long. Kissing her belly he continued moving south to the top of her panties, nipping the lace with his teeth. Sitting back on the balls of his feet he gently pulled her panties down her legs. She kept her legs closed and her knees pulled up as he looked down at her body basked in the moonlight coming in through the curtains. 

Seeing him looking over your naked body but not saying anything made you feel self conscious. Although you had been eating better now you knew your body was not what he remembered. Licking your lips you swallowed hard, Adverting your eyes from his ever serious face as more negative thoughts filled your head. Subconsciously moving your arms to cover yourself you curled up and moved to get up from the bed when a strong hand grabbed your hip and pinned you back down. 

He had been admiring the beautiful body that he had only snapped out of his thoughts when she went to curl away and he snapped his eyes to her face to see the apprehension in her eyes. "No." he spoke quickly when he saw her go to hide away. "You are so beautiful darling." he assured in a low, gentle voice, leaning down to kiss her temple and massaging her hip and thigh. Leaning back to look back down her body and seeing her try to cover her belly with her arm he grabbed her wrist and held it down beside her. "This body is giving me a child, something I never thought I would want or have until that night. I wouldn't trade you for anyone in this world or any other for that matter." he said, placing a kiss to her swollen belly. 

Blinking back tears as your worries were pushed away you pulled at his arm until he leaned back over you, meeting your lips in a tender kiss. "I love you Croc." you said, cupping his face in your hands. 

"Not as much as I do you." he grinned softly. Kissing he he slowly pressed the tip of his tongue to her lower lip and felt as she granted him access. Kicking his pants, socks and shoes off the bed while their tongues danced along with one another he lowered his body to hers. He could have sighed at feeling their skin on one another's again. He felt pride fill his chest as he moved his fingers up her slit. Pressing his index finger into her he felt her shudder and grinned into the kiss. He was careful as he began working his finger in and out of her, preparing her for him. Bentham had told him what had almost happened to her in Impale down. He had been enraged to find out that his starlight had been moments away from being raped by those men before Bentham had shown up and he was sure that that had been why he had heard her call out for him. Oh how his heart ached to know that what might have happened to her and he wouldn't have been able to help her. It was one reason why he had shoved back any desire he had for her, not wanting to push her into something until he knew she was absolutely ready but feeling how wet she was now he knew she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.

Adding another finger he rubbed small circles over her clit with his thumb. She was whimpering softly now, her hands gripping his shoulder and bicep. When he felt her flutter around his fingers he gave one final curl before pulling away, he  wanted to feel her come undone around him. Running his cock up and down her slit to coat it in her slick he situated himself between her legs. Lining up his painfully hard cock with her entrance he moved his only hand to grab her own and lace their fingers together. Then slowly he entered her. 

Being filled you both broke away from each other's mouth to let out noises of pleasure. Your own being a long, soft moan while his deep groan vibrated along your chest. It was slightly painful, the stretch reminding you of your first time together as your body readjusted to your soulmate's. Feeling his head drop to your shoulder and his teeth scrape against the thin skin of your neck as he pushed in to the hilt you shuddered, your hand that wasn't holding his gripping him for dear life. You wouldn't be surprised to find marks on his back tomorrow. 

He trembled in need as he waited for her to adjust to his girth, every muscle in his body as tight as a bow string. Placing hard kisses and bites to her neck and shoulder he tried to keep from fucking her like he so badly wanted to. She needed this time, she was so tight around him, her body unfamiliar to his cock after so long. Groaning he pulled out just a little to thrust back in and let go of her hand to grip the bedding beside her head hard enough to turn his knuckles white. Doing it again he heard her let out a moan and growled, gritting his teeth. 

As soon as he started moving you felt your body cling to him, your lips kissing his hard shoulder. You could feel his muscles tightening beneath your palms, his hips rolling expertly into yours. It was no time at all before you felt that coil in your belly growing tight, ready to snap at any moment.  

Clenching his teeth he grunt and groaned, wanting to last longer, wanting them to savor their first time together in so long but his climax was coming in fast. She just felt so perfect around. Licking along her jaw he heard her whimper, felt her clench around him. Seems they both were in need of release. Kissing back up to her mouth he pushed his lips to hers and moved his hand down to grip her thigh, pulling it to lay over his hip. "Mmmmm." he hummed into her mouth, being allowed deeper. Angling his thrusts to hit her sweet spot he gave a low moan of his own. Quickly moving his hand back to hold hers by her head he rolled his tongue around her mouth. With one last hard thrust they were both crying out in bliss. His whole body went stiff, holding her tightly under him as he pumped her full of his seed. 

You could feel his cock twitching inside of you before the warmth of his cum filled you up. Coming back down from your own high you slowly laid your head back onto the pillows and felt him kiss your forehead once before he was gently easing out of you, your body flinching as your still slightly spasming sex clung to him. Being pulled to his chest once he had moved to lay beside you, you laid your head on over his heart and listened to it slowly go back to it's normal rhythm.

They stayed there with their eyes closed for a while, him stroking her belly when a thought crossed his mind. "Are you alright? Was I too rough?" he asked in a low, deep voice.

Forcing your tired eyes open you grinned and craned your neck to kiss his jaw. ""I'm perfect, you were amazing." Giggling a little when you saw him smirk as you added to his ego you kissed his chest. Stretching you moved to get up from bed when a strong hand caught your wrist in a gentle grip. 

"Where are you going?" he asked softly, stroking her arm with his thumb. 

"To go clean up." you said with a grin but then saw that mischievous look in his silver eyes, one of his brows raising.

"Who said we were done?" he questioned and saw her blush. Leaning up he grabbed the inside of her knee and pulled her back across the bed to him, time to make up for lost time. Leaning down to kiss her binding mark he felt her fingers rub through his hair. 

[mister-supernova]

If I Saw You on the Street

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Pairing: Hope Mikaelson x Reader - Platonic Josie Saltzman x Reader

After Malivore

For as long as you could remember, summer vacation was your absolute favorite time of the year. To your surprise, it’s actually been a huge drag for you this year. It wasn’t like this was the worst summer ever--you could think of a few others that could take that spot--but there was definitely something off that you couldn’t piece together. 

For instance, no one has any idea as to how Landon destroyed Malivore, not even Landon himself. That whole day seemed to be a huge blur to all of the students. You remembered the bigger events like the school defeating Triad, but everyone seems to struggle when it comes to the smaller details.  

In order to keep yourself busy, you decided to stay at the school and take a summer job at the Mystic Grill. Besides the fact that everyone else was back home with their families, the whole school had this off-putting sense of emptiness. The place has magic in the walls for crying out loud, you usually feel some sense of liveliness. 

There was this one room in particular that you felt strangely drawn to. You had no idea why since you knew that no one stayed in that room this past year. At least, no one you knew anyways. 

One day out of pure curiosity, you picked the lock to that room to see what was special about it. 

Just as you expected, it was just a regular empty dorm that was probably going to be taken up by a new student during the fall. It looked like every other bedroom at the school, but this one felt familiar. 

Something that caught you off guard was the scent that faintly lingered in the room. The best way you could describe it was something floral with a hint of sweetness and spice--vanilla and cinnamon maybe--and it wasn’t like anything else you had smelled in the school before. 

As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave for the longest time. The urge to stay and wander trumped over the obvious choice that was to walk away. 

Something happened here, you thought. 

A few small drops of pastel blue paint chips stained the wooden floorboards and you wondered how the hell they got there given the rooms have white walls. 

Instead of questioning it any deeper, you just assumed that a student who had this room before must’ve gotten the paint on the floor and the janitors hadn’t noticed it. 

But how could they have missed that? 

You stood there for what felt like hours, trying to piece together what it was that made this place have this unexplainable affect on you. You could’ve stayed there for the rest of the day digging through your brain for an answer that would never come. 

At the end of the day, you knew nothing would come to mind no matter how hard you tried. It was like the answer was at the tip of your tongue, but your mind was radio silent.

Frustrated and defeated, you had to force yourself to leave the strange room. After that, you made yourself forget about that place completely for the rest of the summer and refused to ever return to it.  

Whenever you weren’t at work, you spent time with Landon, Josie, and a wolfed-out Rafael which was fine in the beginning. Dorian gave you permission to shift in the woods on full moons for the summer so that Raf could talk to somebody and you guys could possibly get information on how to help him. 

He definitely appreciated the company that you could provide, but alas he had no idea on how he could be turned back. 

The happier times were the nights you four had weekly movie nights by the Old Mill. You all would alternate who would pick the movie to watch and Landon absolutely hated that you chose a horror movie every single time, but you loved hearing the phoenix boy screech with terror. Josie would get a good kick out of it, too and you were positive that you’d see Raf wag his tail every time Landon screamed.

During those small moments, things felt like they could possibly get back to normal, but once you stepped foot back in the school, you were lost again. 

Your thoughts were much louder through the night. It would get so bad that you could barely get any sleep and the times that you would, you’d wake up screaming from a night terror. 

There was one night when you were tossing and turning, you knocked on Josie’s door to ask if she knew some kind of incantation to get you to fall asleep. You were up for anything at that point, even letting her swing a frying pan over your head to knock you out.  

Not wanting to hurt you or possibly kill you, Josie made you some sleepytime tea instead which actually helped a lot. It didn’t help so much with the vivid dreams you’ve been having, but you thought that it was better than getting no sleep at all. 

Everything felt like it was going decently well until Raf decided to bow out once Josie and Landon started getting close. You wanted to curse at him for making you the third wheel, but you understood that he couldn’t wait here forever for some solution that could help him become human again. He had to move on somehow, especially seeing that his best friend seemed to be moving on, too.

Regardless, you started feeling awkward hanging out with just the two of them. They wanted to include you during their weekly movie nights, but you’d just make up some excuse that you had to be up early for work the next morning. 

Landon--damn him for knowing your work schedule--could tell that you were bullshitting, but he didn’t want to force you into doing something you didn’t want to do. 

You tried busying yourself with other activities like running through the woods, canoeing in the lake, taking extra shifts at work, binge eating all the good snacks in the kitchen; you even got yourself into drawing and painting for some weird reason, but no matter what you did, there was still something missing. 

Towards the end of the summer, you didn’t feel like your usual jokester self. Sure, you’d throw out a line of sarcasm or make a witty comment here and there, but most of it would sound forced. You’d mainly do it so that Josie and Landon wouldn’t worry about you so much, but Josie quickly picked up on your facade. 

They really wanted to help you figure out what was making you feel this way, but as much as you appreciate their help, there was nothing they could do. How could they figure out what was wrong if you didn’t even know for yourself?

One day after your shift at work, you decided to do something you never in your wildest dreams thought you would ever do. 

You started cleaning your room. 

Josie volunteered to help even though you assured her you’d be fine doing it alone. She bribed you by saying she’d buy you a milkshake if you let her help, so without another word, you agreed to let her stay and assist.

“Gosh, do you throw out any of your old assignments?” Josie asks as she rummages through your desk drawers, “This is an algebra one paper from three years ago, Y/n,” she says, flashing your old homework assignment with a huge F circled in the front. 

“Hey, less judging and more cleaning.” You say, digging through your dresser for clothes you don’t wear anymore. 

“Did you try writing a reminder for a history test or something?” 

You furrow your eyebrows before turning to look at Jo, “What do you mean?”

“You have this post-it note that says “Don’t forget H”, but that’s all that’s written,” she holds up the note and from the other side of your bed, you read exactly what she had said. 

It definitely looked like you tried scribbling another letter after the H, but it ended up being a long messy squiggle, “Uh, I don’t know,” you shrug, “Probably. I must’ve been half asleep when I wrote it though because I have no clue when I did that.” 

Josie puffs her lip out in confusion, “Well. I would be surprised by that, but judging by the ten cans of energy drinks I just tossed out, it’s not so surprising to hear that your memory is a little fuzzy.” 

You drop your jaw in shock, “Is today Judge Y/n Day and I wasn’t made aware of it? You asked to help clean my room Jo, now save your judgments for another day please.” 

Josie playfully rolls her eyes at you, followed by a small chuckle, “Toss?” She asks, ready to crumple the piece of paper up. You take a second to answer back, wondering whether or not if you did forget some history assignment or maybe something even bigger than that. 

“Sure,” you feel your stomach churn seeing her throw the note in the trash bag, but there was no taking it back now. 

Another few minutes of silence pass until Josie speaks up, “Since when do you draw?” 

You look back up from your clothes to see Jo now holding up a sketchbook you snagged at the lost and found a few weeks ago. It was brand new and untouched, so you thought to yourself “why not?”. 

After explaining that to Josie, she flipped through some of the first few pages. You were no Leonardo DiCaprio--or whatever that painter guy’s name was--but you thought you were decent with your sketches. 

“These are really good, Y/n. Did you just think of these by yourself?” She asks, talking about the drawings you had of a girl you’ve been seeing in your dreams. 

You could only see parts of the girl’s face. Mostly you’ve only been able to clearly see features like her eyes and hair, so most of the pages were taken up by a pair of blue eyes and waves of auburn hair. 

“Not really. I’ve been having these really vivid dreams lately.” You tell Josie.

“This is who you see?” She looks down at the pages again, “Who is that? She doesn't look like anyone we know.”  

“Yeah, I don’t know either. She’s all I’ve been seeing, though.” 

“Well, it looks like you’ve found yourself a hidden talent.” Josie smiles, gently setting the book back down on the desk, “And maybe she’s your soulmate,” she teases. 

You just roll your eyes with a small smile and get back to your tasks. 

Like a girl that beautiful could even exist let alone talk to me, you think to yourself. 

As you continue sorting through your clothes, you notice a pair of sweats that look almost smaller than half your size. 

“Uh, Jo?” She turns to your attention, “These aren’t yours, are they?” 

She raises an eyebrow at you, “How short do you think I am? I think my legs are a little longer than whoever those are.” 

“Well, they’re not mine, obviously. How’d they get into my drawer?” 

“Maybe they belonged to whoever lived in this dorm before you?” Josie shrugs.

“But the dresser was completely empty when I moved in,” you think for a moment, now questioning everything, “At least, I thought it was. I would think that I would’ve taken these out if they were here. Why would I keep a pair of sweatpants that I don’t fit in?” 

“You do a lot of questionable things, you know. Like that one time you jumped through a bonfire wondering how hot it really was or when you tried to do a backflip off the roof of the school and into the pool or the time you “drank” a beer through your-” 

You raise your hands in surrender and cut her off before she could finish, “Okay, I get it! I do stupid shit. The sweatpants belonged to whoever lived in here before I moved in and I didn’t take them out of the drawer. Case closed. Swiftly moving on.” 

You were positive they weren’t there when you moved in, but there weren’t any other reasons you could think of as to how they got into your dresser. 

Seconds before you tossed it back into the bottom of your drawer, your nose barely caught the same sweet and spicy floral scent that you recalled smelling in the strange room. Breathing it in again brought back that memory of being mentally lost in that room, but oddly enough this time it made you feel calm. 

After another hour passed you and Josie ended up filling three bags of trash, one of them recycled trash, and one large donation box of clothes. 

You didn’t waste any time reminding her that she owed you a milkshake. She kind of hoped that you would’ve forgotten about your deal, but she was a woman of her word.

You made a “compromise” to take your box of clothes over to the donating center on the other side of the town square while Josie bought the milkshakes. 

Your task was a lot quicker than Josie’s since it was pretty much rush hour at the Grill right now, so you waited for her on one of the benches in the square.

Sitting by yourself with nothing else to do but wait, you couldn’t help but feel that empty feeling return. The emptiness never hit you all at once, but it definitely drained the hell out of you. 

Again, you felt stumped. Like there’s somewhere you should be or something you should be doing or someone you should be with. You knew Josie was going to be back any minute, but that wasn’t what was missing. 

You anxiously looked toward the Mystic Grill, feeling your breaths becoming more and more shallow as every second passes. You started wishing Josie would walk out so that all your worries could just go away. 

Then--almost like you knew right where to look--your gaze stopped when you noticed someone looking at you from where you just came from on the other side of the town square. 

You couldn’t make out her facial features from so far away, but it was the auburn color of her hair that stuck out to you more than anything. For a moment--and just for a moment--all the weight that had been weighing on your shoulders this summer felt much lighter and everything felt okay again. 

“One cookies and cream milkshake,” Josie’s voice startles you and you face her abruptly, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” she chuckles, lending you your milkshake.

“No, you’re good. I was just…” you look back to the spot you saw the girl only to find that she was gone, “I was just lost in thought.” 

You had no idea what just happened or how you seemed to have possibly seen the girl from your dreams, but just a glimpse of her made you feel more emotions than you have all summer long. Because of that, a huge part of you hoped that you would see her again. 

~

heyyyyyy beautiful people! thanks for over 100 likes on This Isn’t Goodbye you guys gals and nb pals! i’m super super happy that you’ve been enjoying this series so far! still have no idea how many more parts this will be just yet lol but i really appreciate every one of you for the love <3  

*also the title was inspired by the song Dreams Tonite by Alvvays in case you were curious ;)*

taglist: @chicken-wang09​ @trikruismybitch​ @sodangtired​

[emilyoftheshadows]

Person A catches a bus home everyday, but today, they're so exhausted that they fall asleep, suddely they feel a light tap on their shoulder and open their eyes to see a cute guy/gal/person smiling at them. "Sorry to wake you, bit this is your stop, i hope you slept well"

So, this is the first piece I have written and posted here! This is a fluffy drabble loosely based on the prompt above as well as some tik tok ideas i've seen. I hope you enjoy and don't judge too hard :)

~~~~~~

Aelin never knew that she could feel such a wide range of emotions in such a short amount of time. The hectic events she had endured earlier in her day had left her drained and in dire need of sleep.

She started out her mornings as usual - brewing her coffee with the help of an overly excited Fleetfoot. On the subway ride to work, coffee in hand, she explicitly remembered checking her emails for any important notices regarding her job. As an advertising agent, she dealt with multiple clients at one time. With her meticulously organized calendar and the help of her overworked assistant Marion, she was usually able to keep everything in check. Today was not one of those days.

As she entered her office, Marion greeted her with her tablet in hand- Aelin’s schedule color coded, labeled and sorted by hour.

 “Good morning Ms. Galathynius, ready to hear your schedule for today?” Aelin nodded, sipping her coffee as Marion listed her client meetings for the upcoming day. As they entered her office, Aelin paused.

“Marion, could you please repeat that first meeting  again?”

“The Havilliard Scotch pitch at 12?” And that was when Aelin knew she was fucked. This pitch was meant for a well known drinking company in New York, fast on the come up. Havilliard Sr. was known to be picky about his branding, scrutinizing most agencies that had helped him before. She had barely gotten this client, practically begging Nehemia for the job. As she worked the branding, she had become worried about the content she was producing.

She was so worried about this pitch, that she had taken her laptop home last night in hopes of triple checking her work for mistakes and to fine tune some details. And that's where her laptop was at that moment. At her apartment, across town, sitting on her desk, collecting dust. Her mind raced at how to solve her predicament. The subway ride to and from her apartment was too long of a trip to make before the meeting and, like an amateur, she hadn’t saved her files anywhere else but her laptop. She was completely fucked. 

Marion stood in the doorway, confused on what was going on in Aelin’s head. Aelin decided to finally release herself from her stupor. “Marion, could you please go find Aedion for me? And tell him it’s an emergency.”

With a determined look on her face, her assistant went as fast as her short legs could carry her to Aedion’s office on the adjacent part of the building floor she was on. Within minutes, Aedion was standing at her door, panting like he had just sprinted the fastest race of his life. The good thing about having her overbearing cousin work with her, is that she knew that in any problem he would help in an instant. And this was one hell of a fucking problem.

“What happened Aelin? Are you okay? Were you hurt? Do you need an ambulance?”

“You idiot I am physically fine, but still screwed and I need your help.” Aedion released the first breath Aelin had seen him take since entering her office.

“You know, when Marion power walked into my office saying you had an EMERGENCY and she didn’t know what was wrong with you, I definitely thought you would be passed out on your floor with blood on your face. But, you know, thanks for the heart attack. Really woke me up this morning.” 

Aelin rolled her eyes at him. He was more dramatic than her, and that spoke volumes in itself. 

“Aedion, please it really is an emergency. I have the big pitch for the Havilliard Scotch today and I left my laptop with the presentation at my apartment.” Aedion’s eyes widened in surprise. He knew that Aelin had been obsessed about this pitch and that mistakes like this only happened to her once in a blue moon. Aelin saw understanding dawn on his face and took that as a sign to continue.

“Now, I know a while back I sent you the rough drafts of the branding from when I first got the pitch. Is there any chance that you have the email or presentation saved still? If I have the basis of the presentation, I have an hour to build on it and hopefully fix this.”

Aedion’s face fell at the request. “We can go look, but you know I’m not the best at organizing my files Ace. It could be anywhere on my computer or not at all.” With those reaffirming words, Aelin and Aedion walked at a brisk pace back to his office. Combing through Aedion’s computer was an agonizing process. There were files saved from years ago that should’ve been deleted, and backtracking through all the contents of his computer made Aelin want to stab her eyes out. But it was all worth it, because hidden in the depths of this man’s terribly organized computer was the presentation. With a quick click of a button, she emailed the document to herself. She gave a half ass hug to Aedion, then practically ran to her office to start reworking her pitch on the computer there.

--

Aelin believed it was pure adrenaline that enabled her to finish her pitch in time for the Havilliard meeting. With a strong foundation laid out before her from her first draft, she had constructed almost her exact pitch that was left at home. Aelin waited for the Havilliards in the boardroom, smoothing out her clothes as she paced at the front. Far too soon, Marion escorted Havilliard Sr., Dorian Havilliard, and their close friend and partner Chaol Westfall into the room for her presentation. The three men had sat down in silence with no introduction, except for a small encouraging smile from the younger Havilliard. Taking that as her sign to start, Aelin cleared her throat.

“Hello gentlemen, today I want to present to you the future of Havilliard Scotch…”

---

As the men had exited the room single file, Aelin finally allowed herself to relax. That had felt like the longest pitch of her life. Going into the meeting, she had known the men were notorious for being extremely serious and critical of their agents. What she had not expected was the whispered words between the men after she had finished her presentation. As she looked on, Dorian Havilliard had finally broken away from their circle to address her.

“Miss Galathynius, thank you for your time. We will get back to you shortly about our decision to run with this branding or not.” With a quick nod and gesture to his companions, the trio had stood up and left the room. She was utterly shocked. Aelin had poured her sweat and tears into this pitch, quite literally, and they had just thanked her and left. No critiques, no opinions, no nothing. 

Quite honestly, Aelin was exhausted. She had spent most of her brain power reworking that pitch in that 45 minutes before that meeting and she had nothing left to give today. Yet, she still had a full schedule left to woo clients and work on her other projects. By the time Aelin trudged back to the subway, she was ready for a nice dinner at home followed by a restorative night of sleep with Fleetfoot at her side. 

Now, as she entered the subway, she immediately noticed the mystery man sitting down a few feet away from her. The man was moderately built, with muscles that were outlined by the fabric of his long sleeve t-shirt. His style was simple with a pair of nice jeans and Doc Marten boots, but that just allowed one's focus to settle on the beautiful creation that was his face. Mystery man had a strong jawline, lined with a bit of stubble and scruff. His eyes were a beautiful shade of green like none that she had seen before, his head topped with luscious silver hair. As the subway started, Mystery Man continued to sketch drawings into his book. Now, Aelin was never one to back  down from an opportunity to flirt with one of the most attractive men she had ever seen. She was a single woman in a big city, why the hell not. But her day had taken a toll on her, and she just didn’t know if this was the right time or place. So, she opted to put in her headphones as she waited for her stop, listening to relaxing music to calm her anxieties regarding the failed Havilliard pitch. 

 Seeing that her stop was next, Aelin rose from her seat to wait in line for the doors to open. As she waited, she felt a light tap on her shoulder. Low and behold, there was the Mystery Man standing next to her with a piece of paper in hand. As she pulled her headphone out, the man silently handed her the paper. Looking down, she saw a pencil sketch of herself on the subway. The drawing was beautifully done with bold lines and harsh shading, contrasted by highlights created from the fluorescent lights of the subway. Her eyes welled up, immediately grateful for this thoughtful gift after such a horrible day. The Mystery Man saw her emotions, startled to see tears welling up in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude on your privacy. I just… I like to draw and when I saw you… I mean, it’s just you’re so stunning..” The man’s face flushed red as he tried to justify his beautiful art. Aelin laughed out loud for the first time today at his misunderstanding of her swell of emotions. 

“Oh no, these are just tears of..uhmm.. happiness? I guess…” She started to flush at her own awkwardness, trying to explain her emotions this time.

“I just had a really rough day and feel like shit. But this drawing is beautiful and I really am grateful that such a talented artist like yourself chose me as your muse today.” Aelin watched as the Mystery Man reacted to such a lavish compliment, somehow developing an even deeper blush with a shy smile . Gaining confidence from his reaction, she decided to make her move before she exited for her upcoming stop. 

“Hey, Mystery Man, why don’t I give you my number? Seeing that I am your muse and all, I would really like to learn more about your art.” It was a subpar pickup line at best, but hey, she had a long day and for the circumstance she thought it good enough. The man gave a deep timbered laugh at her pickup line, clearly enjoying their conversation now. 

“I think I might be one step ahead of you actually. Flip the drawing over.” As she flipped the paper, she saw a messy scrawl with the name Rowan, and what she could only assume was his number. The sight of these two things brought her complete giddiness. Giddiness that made you want to jump in the air and pump your fist because you're so excited. She looked up at Rowan, smirking as she tucked the piece of paper into her purse.

As the subway doors opened and they were pushed apart by bypassers, she turned around one last time to look at the man who had brightened her day beyond belief. She winked at Rowan as she walked away, not missing the wide smile he gave in return as the subway doors closed and continued on to the next stop.

[taliaquinn]

Why Me!? Chapter 20

Authors Note:                                                                                                So hey guys!! A lot of you figured out my mini-Easter egg when I mentioned New York City. Kudos to you smarties. Let me tell you my tag list is open, because I adore you guys a lot.

“So where's Dick and Cass?” Marinette asked wondering where Dick disappeared off to. He was SUPPOSED to be there on the plane with them. However, once they arrived at the airfield Dick was nowhere to be found. 

Flinching Tim looked up from the business files in his hands. 

Hey while he was gonna be in New York City he may as well look into future business partners and get some more jobs in Gotham. 

“Well uh, Dick he uh decided to stay..home because….” side-eyeing Jason he quickly elbowed him.

Startled while reading his book he took a quick second to decide on a good cover story “because…his ribs still hurt and you know what Bruce is like all overprotective and stuff…so shes babysitting him....” Ugh Tim and Him were going to have to practice on coming up with good cover stories. The whole Keeping the family secret from the family was getting really annoying.

“That sucks, this is my first trip to New York City,” Oblivious to the awful cover stories Marinette continued sketching. She did plan for her class to have a field trip to New York City to tour around. But all those plans went down the drain once she left. Oh well, there loss.  “I'm even going to meet up with my friend Chloe at the hotel!!!” Marinette said excitedly. Chloe sent her an email a day ago about her vacation plans, (her revenge plans too). Marinette was over the moon when she found out that she was going to be there for the Stark Gala too!!!!

Mr.Wayne, her dad, even extended the trip a few days and got her a room, aka suite so Chloe could stay with Marinette more. 

Chloe of course was curious as to who exactly these relatives were. I mean come on they booked a suite at a five-star hotel, in New York City, for Marinette and a Friend.

 Marinette promised to explain everything to her when they were together. 

“She's….the Mayor's daughter right???” Jason asked, trying to change the topic.

Unbeknownst to Marinette, Jason and Dick, before Bruce and Dick fought anyways, convinced Bruce to get Marinette her own suite, so she could do the babysitting job without distractions. It was pretty easy to guilt-trip Bruce once they pulled the “Daughter who you never knew about” card. Guilt-tripping works.

At Marinette's excited nod he added “She’s frikin loaded right?”

“Jason, you realize we’re on a private jet, on our way to New York City, to stay in a five star hotel, to attend the Stark Gala?” Tim teased, flipping through business papers. Bleugh Lex Corp that's a definite pass on that business offer.

“ Yeah right, you guys are attending the Gala” Jason rebutted “I have my own stuff to do Timmers”.  

“Stuff” meaning a top-secret joint mission with Captain Rogers and Black Widow. Working together to take down a drug trafficking ring located in the heart of the city. Working with the Avengers every now and then exhilarating for Jason. Sure the Avengers worked more closely with the Government but they didn't have a universal; “No-Kill” rule.

Which was why Bruce hated joint-missions with the Avengers.

Extra icing on the cake for Jason.

“Excuses” Tim mumbled, upset that Bruce was forcing him to sit the mission out. Something about him being “overworked” pfft. He wasn't drinking coffee that much.

“Speaking of the gala, Marinette you have your dress ready?” He asked. Knowing that Marinette decided to make her own dress for the gala. 

“Yep finished the detailing last night, and have my jewelry and shoes ready,'' Marinette said, patting her suitcase. Mr.Wayne was nice enough to buy her a bunch of fabric and also gifted her a necklace and bracelet to match. He also gave her earrings but she opted out of them since she learned her lesson about taking off her Miraculous. Thank you very much.

“What's with the armbands?” Jason asked, seeing Marinette pack them earlier. He assumed they had something to do with her “babysitting” job. 

“Oh they were Alexei’s, they match with that I'm wearing”

“Your biological mom?”

“Yep, gotta ask Mr. Wayne more about her, I was only barely able to pry so much from my mom” Her mom would get too emotional sometimes when Marinette asked too many questions.  Eventually, she just gave up asking.

“Ha Mr. Wayne, you do know that annoys Bruce to no end right?” Tim joked, seeing Bruce's face of frustration every time Marinette refers to him as Mr. Wayne.

“I do, it's just…” she was still struggling with her Biological parents and having a bunch of siblings suddenly “Too awkward for me to call him anything else”

“Jesus you sound like Peter” he scoffed. 

“Who's Peter?” She asked with a slight scrunch of her eyes. That oddly reminded both Tim and Jason about Bruce. Bruce would scrunch his eyes whenever asking a question sometimes.

“Oh trust me you'll meet him soon” Jason answered going back to his book.

Dick was right the whole Wayne vs. Stark rivalry would be a perfect distraction. Oh if only Tim had his Camera.

......……

They finally landed, and soon Bruce was helping everyone off and into a car and heading towards their hotel. Once at their hotel, Bruce checked their bags in. Jason stayed behind to “rest” while everyone went to Stark Tower.

“Wait so Tony Stark is the one who is Throwing the Gala?” Marinette asked curiously inside the car.

 “Yep he’s throwing the gala to raise funds for hospitals and clinics all located around the world” Rolling his eyes Tim continued “Well that's the official reason anyway, right now he wants to out-do Bruce's Charity Gala from a few months ago” 

“As if that will ever happen” Bruce added. Ha, Stark wished he could outmatch his Galas.

“Talk about rich people's problems” she sighed.

“You're not wrong, One more thing, watch out Tony might try to take you as his own”

“What!?” Marinette squeaked out

Soon they arrived and made their way towards the suites. The elevators swished open to a smiling Pepper Potts and pouting Tony Stark.

“Pep, you see this? Bruce managed to get another one, you know what's the score now? 7-4” Tony complained once he saw Marinette. Bruce only glared back.

Ignoring them Tim stepped off and made a beeline towards Pepper and hugged her careful to squeeze her too tight

“Congratulations Pepper,” Tim said.

“Oh Thank you, Tim. It's great to see you after so long” Pepper said, hugging him back. She glanced around and noticed that a certain Red Hood was missing

“Where's Jason?” she asked frowning

“Unfortunately he stayed behind at the hotel to rest” he answered rolling his eyes. “But I brought someone better,” he said, reaching and pulling a startled Marinette forward.

“Meet Marinette Dupain Cheng,”

“Eeeep, uh Hi, I'm uh Mari-Marinette, but youalreadyknewthat, uh Hi” Marinette stuttered out. 

Completely starstruck at meeting The Pepper Potts. CEO of Stark Industries and Style Icon. Oh god, she wished she brought her sketchbook. Maybe she can do a quick sketch on a napkin

Pepper couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the Stuttering French girl, reminded of another awkward teenager. Hopefully, Tony doesn't try and claim this one. She was pretty sure that Bruce wouldn’t appreciate that at all, judging by the way Bruce was eyeing Tony.

“Brucie dear you adopted another one!?’ Tony teased Bruce swinging his arm around his shoulder

“She's my daughter Stark,” Bruce responded, glaring at Stark  “also what are you pouting about?  I hear you're going to have a baby soon congratulations Pepper by the way”.

“Brucie, you have your gaggle of children. I deserve one too!!” Tony complained, wrapping his arm around his Pregnant Wife's shoulder. Trying, yet failing, to conceal his excitement at getting another kid.

He turned to greet Marinette when suddenly his eyes went wide. Marinette only stared back.  A sudden staring match between her and Mr.Stark was happening apparently. What was Marinette's life? She remembered once being a normal girl. Maybe she should just blink.

“Wait HOLD UP!!!” Tony exclaimed suddenly ending the staring match, looking back and forth between Bruce and Marinette squinting.  “Are you sure this adorable child is your child?” 

“Oh for the love of go- yes I’m sure Stark” Bruce sighed exasperatedly. “Why does everyone ask me that”

“Cause she's adorable, sweet, and all Sunshiney, and well you’re….you” Tim answered. 

“Bingo, Don't worry Bruce I got a Sunshiney child too, matter of fact here he comes now” Tony comforted.

“OhmygoshMr.StarkI’msosorry” a soot-covered Peter apologized running up to him. 

“There was a fire in the lab,dummytriedtoextinguishitbutthemhesprayedhimself,

“Kid, Bruce Wayne is he-” Tony tried to cut in

“soIhadtoputoutthefireandcleanDummyUp”

Rolling his eyes he grabbed Peter's shoulders and twisted him towards everyone else

“Oh...uh Hi?” Peter squeaked out looking like a deer caught in headlights at seeing the three guests

“Hiya Peter,” Tim chirped excitedly standing next to Marinette who was awkwardly waving hello.

“Hi, Tim” Peter answered relieved. Thank god Tim, fellow tech geek, was here. He doubted he could handle Bruce Wayne on his own.

‘Anyways Brucie you remember my sunshiney kid, Peter, right?” gripping Peter's shoulders from walking towards Wayne. Nu-uh he wasn't going to risk losing Peter to Wayne.

“Mr. Stark I'm not your kid, I still live with Aunt May. I'm your inte-”

“Hush kid“ Tony ordered covering Peter's Mouth.

Marinette sent a silent prayer.  Bruce now had his hands protectively on her and Tims shoulders while Mr. Stark was doing the same to Peter. She would need a miracle to be able to survive this trip.

College Francis Dupont                                                                            Paris, France                                                                                                      2 p.m

“NINO!!!”  Nino couldn’t help but flinch, he’s been trying his best to avoid Alya all day. 

Luckily the breakup happened on Friday so he had the weekend to put himself together thanks to friends and icecream, lots of ice cream.

Surprisingly Chloe was the first to approach him after the breakup. After her, Aurore and Kagami came over to comfort him. They brought him some chocolate filled pastries. After a few hours of comfort, he received a phone call from an unknown number. When he picked up it was the voice of the sweetest girl on earth that greeted him.

“Hey Nino”

“Marinette,” Nino breathed out left speechless “Why, why are you even calling me?” 

“Don't be ridiculous Nino, I still consider you my friend, and right now my friend just got out of a toxic relationship” Marinette answered, yep she was happy for Nino when she heard that he broke up with Alya. Finally. “How are you”

“Who even told you?” he asked, still trying to get over the shock.

Releasing a slight giggle she replied “Chloe”

Nino couldn’t help but laugh through slightly watering eyes “Of Course”

At the reminder of Marinette, Nino mustered up the courage necessary and turned to face his ex.

Be brave Be Brave Be Brave B-

“Nino wanna explain to me why you’ve been ignoring me and Adrien since last week!!??” Alya yelled.

Channel your inner Chloe Bourgeois, he reminded himself. “We broke up, remember? I didn't want to hear your excuses”. That was all Alya ever did, make excuses. 

“Excuses?” screeching Alya took a step forward closer to Nino, instead of staying there took a step back trying to keep his distance away from him “Yes, excuses you always try to act like you never did anything wrong, or not even bother to apologize” “No I don’t” 

“You're doing it right now, jeez why do I even bother Marinette warned me” 

“Marinette” she spat out. Of course. She’s the entire reason why she lost Nino. Well, she wasn't going to let her win. She was determined to get Nino Back.

Oblivious to her anger, Nino explained. “Marinette warned me, as your ex-best friend she became well-acquainted with your “apologies”” 

“I don’t owe you an apology, you just overreacted” Adrien called her, and told her how Nino refused to talk to him and was instead talking to the class traitors “Matter of fact I’m here to give you a second chance, we can go and be a couple again and be happy”

“Yeah, sorry no dice,” He started to walk away doing his best to block out her screams. 

“NINO, DONT DO THIS!!!” 

A purple butterfly soon emerged from nowhere. Nino watched as it made its way towards Alya. Only one thought ran through his mind as he witnessed the butterfly merge with Alyas glasses and purple bubbles engulf Alya. 

Run.

Authors Message:                                                                                        Hope you guys enjoyed this extra long chapter. I can’t wait till I post the next chapter. Also I’m gonna start writing a series that focuses on Dick Grayson soon.  

I have part two of the Hamilton AU written out I just have to do this annoying thing called editing. Keep an eye out for that soon.

As Always stay Safe and Healthy Loves.

Taglist: (Still Open)

@purplesundaze @silvergold-swirl @k-poplunardreams @pepelachanel @laurcad123 @maribat-is-lifeblood @kass-is-weird @another-fan-of-anotherplan @damianette-is-life @amayakans @parallelparabox @miukiiu @valeks-princess @toodaloo-kangaroo @vixen-uchiha @thezestywalru @dreamykitty25 @pirats-pizzacanninibles @mochinek0 @shamefullove @mochegato @souleateralicestein @thestressmademedoit @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @aestheticnpoetic @flufflepuffle296@mysupporthyperfixations @itsmeevie01 @jeminiikrystal @iglowinggemma28 @whydoexamsexist @kuroko26 @animalgirl05 @susiej1118 @damianthebratboy @ccwkm6967 @valyui901601 @wannajointhecrabcult @thornalchemist23 @tazanna-blythe @rebecarojas07 @moonlightstar64 @chylou34

[yungidreamer]

Fae

The second one shot in my Kinktober fantasy series

Summary: A lonely fairy in the woods catches sight of an intriguing visitor who seems to love his forest as much as he does. He invites her in, but will she decide to stay?

Wordcount: 4k

Content warnings: mild sexual content, making out, kissing, more reference to sex than description of it, and some magic.

Suggested music: Capercaillie Eastern Reel and Price of Fire and The Seed by AURORA

If you ever meet a fairy, do not accept their food or drink, it is how they draw you into their world... 

She was here, Felix grinned to himself. He had watched her passing near his fairy circle for months, admiring her beauty and the way she always seemed to be so happy when she walked through the forest. He loved the wonder that came into her eyes when she spotted a pretty flower or a cute little bird flitting by.

“Please come in,” he said hopefully. “I promise not to keep you forever if you just come, just for a little while.” He just had to do something to catch her attention, to draw her inside. Felix put his hand on the ground near the edge of his circle letting out small tendrils of magic through his fingertips. The glowing vines of magic crawled over the forest floor bringing forth bursts of spring flowers where they touched.

The movement and bright colors caught her attention in the corner of her eye and she turned to see what was there. A curling carpet of spring blooms covered a short distance up a little incline to a ring of mushrooms growing in the forest floor. She would have sworn it wasn’t there a moment ago.

“How are these growing now?” She asked quietly, directing the question at no one in particular. “Lily of the Valley, crocus, and Siberian squill...you all bloom in spring. How are you here?”

Careful not to step on the flowers, she made her way up the incline to see what was there, what could make those flowers bloom. Stepping into the circle of light brown mushrooms, she turned in a little circle to take in the view of the forest from that point. Somehow it looked brighter, more vivid from that place where she stood. A slight rustling drew her attention to a tree stump a few meters behind her.

“Who are you?” She asked the boy who seemed to be suddenly sitting there, cross legged, his chin resting on the palms of his hands as he looked at her.

“I’m Felix,” he replied, standing up. “Welcome to my forest.”

“Your…” her voice drifted off. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. I didn’t think this was private property.”

“No, please, don’t apologize,” he assured her, standing up and moving to join her. “I don’t mind having you here. It’s nice to see someone appreciate my forest.”

“Have...have you been watching me?” She asked, taking a half step back.

“A little,” he admitted shyly, smiling up at her through his lashes. “Your sketches of the birds were so pretty. Most people don’t pay enough attention to capture them so well.”

“Thank you, I suppose,” she replied. He made her feel funny. It was some sensation she couldn’t place when she looked at him. He was handsome and young looking, with sparkling eyes and a dusting of freckles over his nose and cheeks. A mischief danced in his eyes when he looked at her with an adoring intensity. It should have made her uncomfortable, after all, he was a stranger she knew nothing about. Not to mention the strange way he was dressed. Why was he here by himself? How had he seen her and her sketches in the forest without her noticing?

“Did you like my flowers?” He asked, drawing closer.

“How did you get them to bloom so late in the year?” She asked, turning to look at the carpet of flowers again.

“Oh that’s easy,” he explained, taking her hand and pulling her along to an open part of the forest floor. “Like this,” he knelt down and placed his palm on the ground and let out a small burst of his powers. Around his hand golden ripples pushed out, leaving blooms that pushed up through the leaf litter in their wake. Her eyes went wide and she moved down to her knees to get closer to the sudden burst of flowers.

“Edelweiss,” she breathed quietly. “What are you?”

“I’m a fairy,” he answered, as if it should be obvious. “I live in the forest, care for the plants and the creatures here. Would you like to see my home?”

“Yes,” she said before she could think better of it. It seemed likely this was a dream, or maybe that she had lost her mind, and if that was the case where was the harm in going to see it? Taking her by the hand he led her to an old thick oak that grew near the edge of a small stream. It looked like an ordinary old tree until he put his hand on it and the front of the tree melted into an old door that opened inward. It didn’t look possible, the door seeming to be as large as one side of the tree, but he stepped inside, drawing her in behind him.

“Welcome,” he said as he closed the door behind her. She couldn’t respond as she tried to take in where she was. Through the door was a little world that seemed to defy definition as either a room or a forest. Somehow it was both and neither at the same time. The walls and ceiling were a dome of warm golden wood, shiny and smooth from years of being polished and cared for with gentle hands. Windows looked out through the notches left by knots that had been cleared and set with rippling glazing that sparkled in the low light. Shelf-like mushrooms grew in areas along the walls holding everything from little figures, to cups and plates. Off to one side sat a person sized nest on a little nook that came out from the wall. The mess of blankets that covered it, as well as the cushy looking pillows buried off to one side, looked like they were made of the softest silk in shades of green and brown. On the opposite side sat a table made from the top of a stump that extended from the wall, floating just the right height above the floor. Two small stumps sat, one on each side, providing seats for anyone who wanted to sit for some tea or food, if the mood struck. Spheres dangled here and there, bringing a glowing warm light to the space. It smelled fresh and woody, like rosemary and pine with just a hint of sandalwood, completing the sense of fantasy about the place.

“Wow,” was all she managed to say after taking it all in for a moment or two.

“Do you like it?” Felix asked, drawing up beside her and taking one of her hands in his. “I don’t really get visitors very often.”

“It’s wonderful,” she assured him, turning to look at him and finding his face far closer than she thought it was. A blush rose onto her cheeks and he gave her a warm grin as he took notice.

“I’m so glad you found my forest,” he sighed, taking a hand and brushing his fingers over her cheek. “Would you mind if I kissed you?”

“No,” she said, her gaze dropping down to his perfectly shaped pink lips. It was just a dream after all, she told herself. If it was a dream, there was no harm. It couldn’t be real. Fairies didn’t exist, nothing could make flowers spring from nowhere, houses couldn’t appear inside trees.

Felix leaned in, brushing his lips against hers as gently as if he were kissing the fluff of a dandelion. His lips tasted like sweet clover and summer strawberries. His delicate hands held her face, tilting it just right so he could nuzzle his lips closer to hers. He filled her senses, with the sweet flavor of his lips and the gentle touch of his hands as they wandered from her face down to her shoulders and arms.

She was as wonderful as he had imagined, soft and giving under his touch. She was so alive and so warm in a way he had missed for so long. Humans usually held little attraction for him. They were short lived, selfish, and obsessed with their world of concrete and steel, missing the wonder and beauty of the nature so close to them. But she was sweet like a summer dawn and took joy in all the little details of the world around her. In her art she had captured the way the chickadee spread its wings as it turned in flight, the gloss of the leaves after the rain, and the glint of the spiderwebs in dawn mist.

“Let me touch you,” he asked quietly against the corner of her mouth.

“You already are,” she pointed out with a breathy laugh, her hands coming to rest on his waist.

“I meant like this,” he chuckled as his hand slipped over her clothed breast.

“Ah, right,” her cheeks went pinker as she pulled his hips closer to hers. 

“Is this alright?” Felix slid a hand up under her sweater, still staying over the soft cotton of her t-shirt. She nodded, getting a closer look at his face as he explored her gently. Near the corners of his eyes he had little marks that looked like tiny silver crescent moons, glowing lightly from within. Over the bridge of his nose and cheeks were freckles of bronze and gold along with those that looked like regular ones. His eyes were brown like the fertile soil of the forest, but had flecks of red and gold, like leaves in fall.

He brought his lips back to hers, guiding her backwards until the back of her knees hit the edge of the nest like bed. She let herself sink backwards into the softness of the bed and its blankets as he moved to lie beside her. Felix coaxed her into the center of the bed and curled up along her side.

“You’re so beautiful,” he told her, brushing a little hair out of her face.

“I…thank you,” she said shyly. Reaching up, she pulled his face back down to hers, capturing his lips. She kissed him with passion and desperation. He was beautiful, he was delicious, and he made her feel like she was coming alive after a long winter.

He slipped her sweater off and tossed it to the floor. He kissed his way over her cheek and down her neck as he snuck his hand under her shirt to touch the skin of her stomach for the first time. He sent out tendrils of magic over her skin, making her gasp at the feel.

“What did you do?” She panted.

“Just a little magic,” he explained timidly. “Did you like it?”

“Yes,” she nodded, desperate for him to do it again.

“Here,” he helped her pull off her shirt and her pants, leaving her only in her bra and underwear in the soft nest of the bed. He stretched out beside her, running his knuckles over her stomach lightly.

“What about you?” She asked, running her hand over the clothing that still covered him. “Can I see you?”

“Oh, that’s easy,” he gave a musical laugh and his clothes melted away.

“Easy indeed,” she gave a nervous giggle as she looked down the line of his naked body. “That shouldn’t be possible.” She said softly, running her fingers along his shoulder, touching the soft skin there.  His body was long and lean, muscular but not the sort one got from strength training, it was the body of a runner, a swimmer, a dancer. He was beautiful as he smiled down at her. Splaying a hand over her stomach he sent out a small ripple of magic over her skin and she saw little golden waves move across her skin, bringing pleasure with them. She let out a ragged breath and gripped his bicep to steady herself. 

“Keep going,” she whispered, looking into his eyes. Felix leaned down and put his lips to hers and let a trickle of his magic into her through them. It amplified the cozy warmth of his lips and the taste of strawberries that washed through her. She urged him to deepen the kiss and helped him shift until he lay half on top of her as he did. When she touched him, she felt like she couldn’t get enough, couldn’t get close enough. He ran his fingers through her hair, holding her head as he explored her mouth.

A shiver went through her as his tongue tangled with hers and he slid a knee between her thighs. Her hands pressed against his back, feeling his muscles move under his soft skin. Somehow he managed to feel warm and hard and soft all at once under her touch. His magic intoxicated her, leaving her mind slowed and making the world have a pull and drag like water around her. She wanted more.

“Can we…,” she fidgeted, squeezing her thighs around his and hoping that would get her desire across.

“Are you sure you want to?” He ran a hand down her side to her waist. “I can make you feel good even if we don’t go all the way.” 

“But I want to,” she nodded emphatically. If this was a dream she wanted to have this moment. If it wasn’t a dream, she wanted to feel like this, take as much of this moment with her for as long as she could remember it. “Please touch me.”

“Of course,” he giggled and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll touch you as much as you desire.” His fingers played at the edge of her bra strap and he moved it slowly off her shoulder. He kissed along where it had been as his hand went to cup the soft mound of her breast. Everywhere his skin touched hers, golden sparkles followed behind.

Felix loved watching her reaction, the way goosebumps prickled along her skin when he touched her. The way his magic could flow and tickle along her skin was intriguing. Even with other fairies it hadn’t been like this. Sometimes their powers clashed, sometimes it fizzled, something that was always a great disappointment when you were otherwise compatible. But even with the best of experiences he had had before, they didn’t compare to how it felt to share it with her.

He reached behind her and undid the contraption that was her bra, discarding it off the side of the bed with a toss. Running the tips of two fingers over her from the notch in her collarbone down between her breasts and to the dip of her belly button. Her back arched and her muscles twitched under his touch. She looked so pretty like this.

“Can I take these off too?” He asked as he fingered the waistband of her panties. She nodded, lifting her hips to help him do it. Felix slid them down her hips and thighs, tossing them vaguely in the direction her bra had gone. With her now as naked as he was, he straddled her legs, sitting on his heels near her knees.

“If I said you were the prettiest thing in my forest would you believe me?” He asked, letting his eyes rake over her beneath him.

“No,” she admitted, moving her hands to cover herself.

“No, little one,” he leaned forward and entwined his fingers with hers and brought them to his lips. “Don’t hide. You are so beautiful to my eyes.”

“You’re too pretty to be believed,” she shook her head, pulling at him to ask him to lie down with her. He obliged and covered her body with his. A tingle went through him as so much of their bodies came into contact and he let out a gasp, as did she.

“Does it always feel this good for a fairy?” She asked as she moved her legs to cradle his hips.

“No, my magic seems to like you as much as I do,” He smiled. She smiled back and brushed his lavender bangs off his forehead. His lips returned to hers, giving them ravenous kisses as his hunger filled his skin. He moved his lips over her cheek and down her throat, making a slow sojourn down her body. He sucked and licked along her collarbone, enjoying the thin and sensitive skin there. Next he moved to her breast, sucking one nipple into his mouth as his fingers pinched the other lightly.

“Felix,” she gasped, her hands gripping his hair lightly. “You feel like heaven.”

“My love, you are heaven,” he replied, kissing along the underside of her breast and down her ribs. Eventually he found himself stretched out between her thighs, eager to explore her there. He placed little kisses on the inside of her thigh, enjoying the sparks he left in his wake. She was endlessly entertaining to touch and watch and enjoy for him.

He ran his tongue up her length tasting the moisture that had gathered there. She was sweet and salty to his taste buds, the perfect mix of intoxicating flavors. Her back arched under his touch and he spread her thighs wider. He watched her as he licked and sucked at her, loving how she reacted to him. She looked beautiful squirming under his ministrations. 

Warm sensations enveloped her as her pleasure increased. It built inside her like a slowly lapping tide, curling against the inside of her body. Her hands reached for his as she could feel it rising and threatening to drown her with desire. He held her, a touch stone in a storm as she came apart underneath him. Moving up to lie beside her again, he admired her expression and how much she looked like she belonged here like this.

“I want to keep you,” he sighed, tracing the line of her features with his eyes. “But I can’t make that choice for you.”

“What if I decide to stay?” She asked, ready to say she would already.

“Don’t decide now,” he shook his head gently, cocooning them both in the soft blankets as he moved on top of her. “For now, just be with me.” He kissed her and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Let’s just have this now.”

She nodded and said nothing else as he slid himself inside her, burying his face in the crook of her neck, taking in the scent of her. It was as perfect a moment as he had ever had, sharing the warmth of their bodies, a mingling of their souls. They made love until they were both exhausted, falling into a contented slumber in the secret of his tree.

Hours later when they awoke, Felix helped her dress and walked with her to the edge of his circle. He wanted to keep her, to share the joys of his forest with her and perhaps he still would, but he would not do it by trickery. He could, and many of his kind did, but he loved the kindness of her soul too much to win it through deceit.

“Here,” he took one of her hands in his, pressing it between his two and sending a bit of magic through it. “Take some time to think, but if you choose to return, this will let you find me again.” When he drew his hand back, there was a mark on her palm that looked like a faint gray crescent moon. “If you choose to come back to me, I will share all I have with you; my forest, my magic, my heart. But if you come there is no going back, if you become part of my world you cannot go back to what you were, so think carefully on this choice. I would understand if you chose not to come back.”

“I don’t want to go,” She sighed. “If I go, I’m afraid this will all have been a dream. Or if it isn’t, what if I forget?”

“You won’t forget,” Felix promised, pointing to the mark on her hand. “This will stay on you, at least for a little while and I promise I’m not a dream.”

“Can I come back tomorrow?” She asked hopefully.

“Perhaps wait a little longer,” he laughed, cupping her cheek. “Come back in a week, find me then. Be careful going home, it's starting to get dark.” She nodded, stepping out of the circle of mushrooms to suddenly find herself alone in a forest that felt different than it had just a few moments before. She scurried down the path that led back home, leaving a piece of herself behind.

It had been a week and waiting so long had been a daily fight. The face of Felix haunted her dreams and her waking hours. She had spent much of the first few days sketching it in the hopes that it would give her some peace; exorcise it from her mind. But somehow she couldn’t capture just the right sparkle in his gaze, or the glint of his freckles in the glow of the light. She spent pages and pages sketching it, painting it, but could not get the memories on the paper. The results were beautiful, some of the best she had ever done of a person, her friends assured her, but she knew it wasn’t right.

At night she lay in bed, touching the mark he had left on her, willing him to hear her thoughts so that he would remember her too. What if he forgets me? She wondered to herself. What if he doesn’t want me back? I never should have gone. She sighed and turned over in her bed, struggling for sleep to take her.

Just three more days…

Just two now…

Tomorrow!

In the morning she had sat at her desk, penning a few notes to her friends and family in the hopes that it would at least make them worry less. She laid the envelopes on her bed, under the edge of her pillow, partially hiding them from sight. If she couldn’t find him again she would have time to destroy them before anyone would take note of them or even that she had been gone. She took with her a few photos, the necklace she had inherited from her grandmother, and the little music box her father had given her as a child.

She closed the door and locked it, slipping her keys into her pocket. Her feet walked her back to that place without a thought. She found the woods and the little half hidden trail that had teased her mind for last week. The wind blew through the mostly empty branches of the fall trees as milky light filtered down to the forest floor. The sound of her footsteps grew more faint as the visible path disappeared, becoming moss and the litter of fallen leaves.

She knew she must be getting closer as the forest began to grow quieter around her. She looked for the incline and the circle of mushrooms she knew must be near as she rubbed the mark on the palm of her hand.

“Felix,” she whispered under her breath, the fear she would not find him again welling up in her chest. She closed her eyes and said his name quietly, half a prayer, half a question. When she opened her eyes, before her floated a small orange ball of light that pulsed slowly as it floated just a little ahead of her. Her feet followed it without a second thought, slowly making her way through the last tangle of branches before she finally saw it.

“Felix, are you here?” She asked, carefully getting nearer his fairy circle.

“You came back,” his voice floated out to her a moment before he stepped out in front of her. “I had hoped you would, but…”

“Of course,” she extended her hand with the little crescent to him, taking those last few steps up to the line of mushrooms.

“Come inside, let me give you a little something to eat,” Felix offered with a smile.

Masterlist

[yeehawitstheplague]

I've been extremely touch starved lately and I do be dying for some fluffy cuddles n kisses n shit-- Can I just get some cute fluff stuff with the Quinnster, plz n thx 🥺👉👈

ngl this was so fun to write, i’m so weak for soft Caleb 🥺

also used my hc for Caleb’s horse

. . .

Your gaze was fixated on the paper in front of you, stroking soft lines with your pencil. You’d gotten a bit inspired while just sitting around the saloon. Caleb wasn’t around at the moment, you figured he was either out in trial or in his workshop; so you found yourself sketching pictures of his horse, Jesse.

At least thats the name you gave him, Caleb told you he didn’t really have a name in their past life but did like the name Jesse for him. Jesse seemed to like it too, always nuzzling your arm when you would greet him coming back to Glenvale after trial. He would stand near the entrance and wait for you to come back from time to time. You saw him more like a big puppy dog than a horse at times.

You watched him stand peacefully outside the saloon, drinking out of the water trough and nibbling at some apples you would find him ever so often. You continued to work at your paper, focusing in on the smaller details in his face when you heard him whinny outside. You glanced back over to see what got his attention, only to see Caleb returning home. He wore his usual duster coat and carried his rifle, so you assumed he just returned from trial. He gave Jesse a pat before taking a step into the saloon. He didn’t realize you were there until you greeted him. He turned his head to the table you were sitting at and smiled.

“Hiya, darlin’, didn’t see ya there” he said, laying his gun down by the edge of the bar table. He walked over toward you and gave you a kiss to your temple before looking down at your drawing.

He stared at it for a moment, taking in all the details then smiled. “I’m sure the ol’ boy will appreciate your work” he joked.

You giggled, “Yeah, just figured I’d pass the time, nothing else really to do”.

Caleb looked at you for a moment then out to Jesse. He then grabbed your hand and motioned for you to follow.

“Let’s go for a little ride, you and me”.

Your eyes lit up, eagerly standing from your spot and following behind him.

You couldn’t remember the last time Caleb took you for a ride on Jesse. It had been a long time since the two of you had really just had one on one bonding time, with him being so busy with his duties and you catering to your trials as well.

Caleb whistled for Jesse to come, petting his nose before quickly throwing a bridle on him and handing the reins to you to hold him, while he put his saddle on. Jesse looked at you with big brown eyes as you spoke kind words to him. He was a gorgeous animal, a red roan is what Caleb said he was if you remembered correct. And he was always so patient with the people he trusted, meaning only you and Caleb. You smiled to yourself remembering how Caleb would joke about Jesse beginning to like you even more than he did Caleb.

Caleb tightened the strap on the saddle one more time to ensure it was fitted in place then turned to you.

“You wanna lead him this time?” he asked.

You were surprised, “Can I?” you asked, much like a child.

Caleb chuckled, motioning for you to get on. You took his hand as he helped you hoist yourself up on the large animal, scooting closer to the front end. Caleb threw the reins over Jesse’s head and to you before throwing a leg over and sitting down behind you. You held the reins in your hands the way Caleb had taught you before, low and loose. Shoulders relaxed and back straight.

“Thats a girl, go and give ‘em a kick” he said. You gently bumped your heels at Jesse’s sides, asking him to move forward. He began walking down the dirt path around the town. You were practically beaming in excitement, you’d never done anything like this before. Caleb wrapped an arm loosely around your waist, watching you work with Jesse. He adored how well you and Jesse got along, he often made the joke that Jesse knew you were the one before he did.

At first, you did some rounds around the saloon just to get the hang of things then Caleb pointed over towards the exit of Glenvale.

“I found a little spot not far from here the other day, I wanna show ya”.

You nodded and sent Jesse in that direction. The dusty, dirt trail turned to dark soil as you entered the ominous forest that you found yourself walking through each time you returned to Glenvale from the campfire. Caleb directed you to the entrance of a secluded cave that sat not far from where you came. You pulled Jesse to a stop and Caleb hopped off to tie his reins to a nearby tree. He offered out his hand to help you off and guided you into the dark cave. You were lying if you didn’t say it made you uneasy. You gently gripped Caleb’s hand, staying very close as you walked through the tunnel. He chuckled looking down at you.

“Ain’t nothin’ to be ‘fraid of, doll. I been through here a few times, ain’t nothin’ roaming around” he assured you. You trusted him.

Soon enough a dull light could be seen at the end of the tunnel.

“There it is” he said, pointing towards the light. He led you up the opening where the light was coming from to reveal a hidden crystal oasis. The walls of the rock cave were covered in sprouting, glowing crystals, shining together to make the light you’d seen. And in the middle, lay a pond of clear water, seemingly untouched. It was a gorgeous sight of scenery.

“Saw that light peeking the other day and came across this beauty. I figured you’d like it”.

He knew you well, you loved ‘hidden treasures’ like this. You peered down at the water, glistening in perfection. It had been forever since you had been swimming. You remembered the hot summer nights back on Earth when you would go swimming with your friends, some of the best memories you had in your past life.

You neared the waters edge and began to strip yourself of your shirt and pants, until you were in just your undergarments.

Caleb watched you with a smirk. You rolled your eyes at him before beckoning him to come with you.

He shook his head.

“Nah, you do your thing, darlin’. I’m fine just watching”.

You huffed, but went ahead and stepped into the water. It was smooth and cooling on your skin as you sunk in deeper. At its deepest, you could keep your head above the water on your tip toes. Otherwise you were completely engulfed in this relaxing atmosphere. It was perfect, too perfect not to share.

You turned to Caleb again, who was rested on the rocks above, hand rested on his chin, watching you contently.

You beckoned for him again.

“Come on, it feels nice”

you said. Caleb shook his head again with a smile.

You neared the edge of the pond and looked up at him with puppy dog eyes.

“Please” you begged.

Caleb chuckled before giving in. He stood and removed his clothes down to just his boxers. He neared the waters edge before undoing his leg brace. He figured he’d be alright without it just this once, considering you were practically weightless underwater. He shuddered as he sunk in, not being used to this feeling since he was a kid.

But he had to admit, it did feel really nice.

You smiled as you swam toward him.

“See, what did I tell you?” you gloated. Caleb chuckled before pulling you into his arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he held you. Tall as he was, he could stand at the deepest with the water just washing over his shoulders.

For a while, you both really didn’t say anything. You just took in and basked in each others presence. You rested your head in the dip of his shoulder, mindlessly running your fingers through his damp hair. Caleb would run his hand up and down your back, while laying soft kisses on your shoulder and neck.

You missed this, your alone time with him. Its what made this hellish world worth surviving for. For a while, you would often think to yourself ‘what am I fighting so hard to live for if I’m just gonna be sucked back into another trial’. You eventually answered your own question when you fell in love with someone traditionally assigned to be your enemy. You never understood what drove you to Caleb, but you didn’t care to remember now. All you knew was that he loved you and you loved him.

In those mindless times when you would lay in his arms at night and he would lull you to sleep with the sweet words he whispered to you. How you were his everything, how you tamed the anger that burned like a furnace in his bones, you were his sun, stars and moon. He would protect to his last breath because you are everything worth fighting for.

You could almost cry sometimes because you could feel the genuine nature coming from his voice. He made you feel safe, even in a world were everything was out to kill you. He was your home. And you were his, no matter where you were.

The shine of the crystals glistened on his skin, compelling you to gently touch the shininess. Tracing patterns on his skin where the lights fell. You felt Caleb shift slightly as he waded over to a shallower part of the pond, sitting you on the ledge, giving you a slight height advantage over him for once. You giggled placing your hands over his shoulders.

“So this is what it feels like” you teased. He rolled his eyes before letting you press your lips to his. His hands fell on the sides of your thighs, pulling you slightly to him. His body was always so warm and inviting. You broke from your kiss to his star dazed eyes.

He swore you were the only person that could do that to him, make him all soft and starry eyed just from a kiss. You pulled the wet strands of hair out from dangling in his face, taking in his features. You could swear you could see faint remains of freckles in his cheeks and across his nose. Probably more prominent in his youth and faded with age. You gave gentle pecks where you saw the remains, making him smile and softly scrunch his face.

“You’re cute, ya know that?” you said.

Caleb made a face.

“Thats more your genre, darlin” he defended.

You simply shook your head and kissed him again.

“You’re cute to me”

He laughed,

“Whatever you say”.

His eyes wandered across your glistening body. You were the most gorgeous sight he’d laid eyes on. He appreciated and adored every piece of you. Every scar, blemish, and imperfection you despised on yourself, only gave him another reason to love you. It made you unique, it made you: You. And that’s something he wouldn’t change for the world.

You caught him staring.

“What?” you questioned. He softly shrugged. “Just admiring what a piece of beauty ya’ are”.

Your cheeks tinted pink, playfully slapping his shoulder “Oh stop”.

“I mean it, darin” he said “I ain’t gonna lie to ya when I say, ain’t no woman I ever met or seen that ever made me feel like I do about you”.

Your eyes softened.

“I know I don’t say it enough, but I love ya’. More than anybody ever could. And I’m thankful that you care about me the way you do,” he paused for a moment to look up at your eyes.

“You make me feel whole again, like I’m human.. Ain’t nobody ever made me feel like that”.

You could feel your emotions welling up inside. You cupped his cheek before wrapping your arms around him. You held him firmly, wanting to make him feel safe and loved. You loved this man more than words could say. You knew he was a broken soul, most everyone here was. But with everyday you were with him, you did your best to love the missing pieces of soul back into him. To show him the kindness and respect he never got before. And each day, he fell more and more in love with you for it.

You whispered a soft ‘I love you’ to him, he didn’t reply, he only held you longer.

What seemed like hours had past, before Caleb took notice of the growing darkness outside the cave, turning back to you.

“We should probably head back”.

You frowned, throwing your arms back around him.

“But I like our bonding time” you whined.

Caleb pulled you back into his arms again, giving you soft kisses to your face.

“We still got the rest of the night. Ain’t nobody coming ‘round. Hows bout we go back, and pour us both a drink, yeah?”

he suggested. He was right, nobody was gonna come around and this spot wasn’t going anywhere. You nodded, letting him place you back on the ledge to dry off. He joined you after.

Once most of the water had run off you both, you got dressed and went back to find Jesse where you left him. You admitted you were a little tired, so you opted to let Caleb lead this time. You jumped on the back of Jesse, curling close behind Caleb. Wrapping your arms around his mid section as you rode back. His free hand rubbed the knuckles of your hands wrapped around him. As the glowing lanterns attached to the buildings of the town in the distance caught your eye, you peered back up at the content face of your beloved cowboy. You smiled to yourself, wondering how you found such a hidden treasure in someone assigned to be your enemy. But once again you didn’t care to much to think on it, you just accepted that you were very fortunate. You were snapped from your thoughts by Caleb’s voice.

“We should do that more often”, he said looking back at you.

“I miss our time too”.

You smiled, snuggling closer into him.

“Sounds good to me”

[bbbarneswrites]

Small Places

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Don’t they say that after a storm, there’s always calm?  Genre: Romance/fluff Rating: T Warnings: Swearings, mental health issues 3,809 words

Notes: Here we are with a new piece after all these months! The songs we got for this one are The Moon by The Swell Season and Cellar Door by Angus & Julia Stone. Hope you guys enjoy it! Feedback always welcomed! <3

The small studio stays right in the heart of Brooklyn, surrounded by themed bars, bright restaurants and a crowd of millennials that makes him cringe every once in a while.

It’s a shoebox.

A bed that fights for space with a small couch, a kitchen that can be sized by two of his steps alone and a cramped bathroom with a bathtub that he honestly can’t fit in. But be as it may, Bucky has never been in a more comfortable, warm and welcoming atmosphere.

A bed with polka-dotted, fluffy blankets, a couch with bright colored and quirky pillows, a kitchen with a line of gifted succulents by the counter and a bathroom with filled shelves of sweet smelling products.

Pictures on the walls, sketches and love notes hung to the fridge, shared clothes thrown over in little corners.

Everything is so lively and familiar—it feels like home outside of his home.

The four walls of your little studio have been witnesses to so much. Whispered love confessions, frantic murmurs of comfort, quiet pleads in between moans, anger filled little lies, and the list can only go on.

There’s a Friday night.

Discarded containers of take-out on the coffee table, and maybe a carton of Ben & Jerry’s forgotten around after a fight over the last spoon. Netflix midway through a random episode of Stranger Things because yeah, Bucky has a growing crush on Winona Ryder. Peace fills up every fiber of his being, and looking down to the sight before him, things can’t feel more right.

“Your heart is beating so fast.” You mumble quietly, chin leaning up to rest upon his chest. A flesh arm tightens around your frame, and a lazy grin grows on your lips. “Are you nervous being around me, Bucky?”

The lightness laced to your voice is familiar, a tone he’s heard many, many times within the warmth of a shared trustfulness.

A smile curls up his lips. Even then, the sound never fails to make Bucky content and happy.

“I’m always nervous around you, baby.” He jokes, a gentle kiss pressing to your temple that earns a happy hum from your chest. “You’re way out of my league.”

Bucky’s smile widens with a muffled whine of protest, and his vibranium hand reaches out to push a strand of hair away from your eyes when you shift on the way-too-small couch. With your face still buried to his chest, there’s no space left between both of you. The fluffy hem of your socks tickles his legs and the skin of his tummy rise up in shivers under your fingers.

Meanwhile, Erica Sinclair goes off about capitalism on TV.

Despite the length of your relationship, a small part of him still gets surprised over moments like this.

Soft fingertips reaching out to his marred left shoulder, a light touch to trace the harsh and old outlines of his scars, by now the only ugly looking, physical reminder of a time of his life that’s best left behind to be buried and forgotten.

With a little giggle escaping from your mouth, Bucky halts his thoughts to focus.

“You’re cute.” You wink playfully, biting your lower lip to hold back another laugh. His cheeks instantly flush a little under the fairy lights of your walls. “This little scar here looks like a stick figure.”

The touch feels nice as your index finger brush over a particular spot near his collarbone. Though he’s observed every single detail of the marks in several occasions, more than enough to make him very familiar with its designs, he immediately takes your hand with his own. Wrapped fingers together, you guide him through his little stick figure.

It’s a little joke, he knows, but Bucky still grins as you make him trace the funny lines of a quirky drawing to his own skin.

And when you tip his chin with your thumb a moment later? Warmth radiating from your body pressed up to his? And lips sweetly meeting his own?

That’s his peace.

There’s a Wednesday morning.

After arriving from a mission, sore muscles and half-healed scabs, Bucky just couldn’t see himself going back to the apartment he shares with Sam—especially after a two week long mission, taking in everything that his partner had to say. And trust, Sam Wilson has a lot of things to say.

To top of it all, he’s missed you.

Missed your laugh and your kisses and your touch. The way you tuck his hair behind his ears, the plush of your lips to the base of his neck. Your cuddles and your warmth and your care. Two long, painstaking slow weeks.

The place is warm as he steps in, slits of moonlight escaping through your blinds. Coming home to you feels right, takes off an edge from his heart, as if everything is right in the world again.

Only silence as Bucky slips under the blankets.

Bleary eyes barely taking him in.

And a happy but tired hum before a familiar frame cuddles to his side.

Sleep welcomes him right in.

Any person that lives in New York can easily list a series of upsides and downsides to coexisting in a studio apartment this small. An upsidde is that you can see and hear everything and the downside is that you can see and hear everything.

White numbers cover up your face on the screen of his phone as it marks 3:36AM. The shuffling and clashing in the kitchen isn’t unusual except for the late hour. Barely four hours of sleep later, and Bucky’s watching a pajama-clad you pour chocolate into a bowl through squinted, heavy eyes.

“Think I need to put you on a sleep schedule.” He murmurs. The sound is low but enough to make you jump on the spot, turn around with a scowl that makes him chuckle. “Come back to bed.”

The tense features of your face melt into a mix of worry and dejection.

“I can’t!” You cry, hands coming up to cover your face in frustration, words all muffled. “I promised I’d bake brownies for the book fair but I was so tired and I meant to take a nap while waiting for you but I just slept and now I woke you up!”

It takes two steps until Bucky has your frame into his arms, a perfect fit that rises butterflies in your stomach after the two, very long weeks. With vibranium fingertips brushing along your cheeks in a gentle caress, every negative feeling slips away.

“You were waiting for me?” Bucky pulls back a little, enough to see you pout through a nod. A loving smile grows easily to his mouth right before a gentle kiss to your lips. “I love you.”

Brownies are made in record time with two sets of wandering hands.

And are successfully sold out by two excellent sellers.

There’s a Monday afternoon.

Clouds are looming over the city. Cold, bitter winds singing loud enough outside. The first few signs of fall can be spotted by a quick walk in the neighborhood by now, trees turning into different shades of brown as pumpkin orange starts to pop everywhere.

Back to a few hours earlier, Bucky begrudgingly kisses you goodbye at the cramped doorstep, fixing your heart-shaped earmuffs with a wish of a good day at school. No paperwork or assignments under his name for a change, the place shelters him from any unexpected Avenger responsability, and he’s more than glad to wait home for you.

Separated dirty clothes, clean dishes back to the cupboards, made-up bed with fresh sheets, organized books and trinkets and papers for the small study table.

Homecoming isn’t as comforting.

Between quiet sniffles, red-rimmed teary eyes and angry huffs of frustration with the addition of a warm tea cup, Bucky cuddles you up to his lap until peace has settled again.

“You gonna tell me who I’m killing tonight?” He jokes half-heartedly, chest a little bit lighter as you giggle quietly, offering a slap to his arm. “Just say the word and I’ll do it.”

A single look from you and his heart swells with affection, the feelings hidden behind the simple act never failing to leave him speechless, wondering if there’s another shoe to drop.

There’s always another shoe to drop in his life.

“You don’t do that anymore, remember?” You say softly, a smart smile playing on your lips that’s followed by a tired, but now content sigh. “I’m okay, promise. Just a bad morning in school that wasn’t expected.”

Hands brought closer together and a kiss pressed to your knuckles by his lips.

Bad days take no excuse.

“Okay, doll.” Bucky frowns, eyes squinted in pretend suspicion as he smirks. “You really sure though? I can call Sam.”

“I’m sure, goober.” You roll your eyes through a laugh, instantly leaning closer until his lips are brushing to your own. “It’s all better now with you.”

Seventy years of a missed life, most of which he’s spent nearly under seven feet underground, locked up like an animal and abused for selfish power. Ruthless damage to every inch of his being, every sliver of hope taken from him without permission for decades. Now, eight years after a seeming never ending storm, Bucky finds reason in all of this.

It feels good to know that she’s with him too.

And if the day ends up to both of you curled up in the back booth of the diner down the street, ordering a late night breakfast with pancakes and eggs and bacon, then it’s a good day after all.

There’s a Thursday night.

The day has been slow in the apartment given your day-off from school. Silence and a few movies on Netflix are your companions, except for the visit of your friendly neighborhood stray cat, Alpine, who climbs up to your windowsill every day without fail. Bucky is usually the one who feeds him, and mostly the one who’s unofficially adopted the kitten.

A pause here for a quick, improvised meal between homework, another pause there for a bath under glittery bath bombs.

Being away from him is normal.

His missions can last to mere hours to unexpected months. Living within the job is basically the norm, all with recruits training, team meetings and securing duties. Your classes are demanding, both physically and mentally. It never ends and never leaves you, always something to be started or done back home.

Either way, anxiousness never leaves you in a week like this.

Nearing a certain date on the calendar, Bucky’s plagued by restless nights.

It feels like a sore spot in his body, one he knows all about it but still can’t help but be upset at, poking and prodding around as a way to remember it. Despite knowing his best-friend way too well, Steve’s choice wasn’t one taken lightly back then.

The reasoning is fair and understandable but it doesn’t lessen the bitterness of a brief meeting after a six year long disappearance.

Not much can be done by now, but two years after Steve’s official death, Bucky still plays what ifs in his head. 

After gentle coaxing in between kisses in the night before and encouraging hugs and squeezes in the morning after, Bucky spends the whole day back at the compound, a scheduled therapy session set to the calendar of his phone.

When sunlight falls to a sheet of night stars, familiar but heavy steps sound like music to your  ears.

A random song playing through your laptop and slow beats welcome Bucky home.

It takes a single look at you until he’s sighing relieved, hauling your frame up to his arms in the middle of the small kitchen, where you both barely fit in during busy mornings with shoulder bumps and mumbled but playful complaints.

Sure it has been a pretty nostalgic day but nothing beats being right there.

“You smell good.” Bucky says, an almost shy mumble against your hair, his arms gently tightening around you. “Peach?”

The easy but definitely familiar guess makes you smile instantly. Heat rises on your cheeks, your chin rests on his chest as your eyes look for his own, very blue, very alive compared to a few hours back. Golden detailed fingertips brush your cheeks and a content hum escapes from your lips instantly.

“That bathbomb you gave me, remember?” You smile, voice sounding small and equally as shy until Bucky tips down, his lips meeting your own in a featherlike kiss that makes you sigh. “How are you feeling?”

Bucky smiles, crinkles forming in the corners of his eyes and then, the smooth sway starts. Finding rhythm with the slow beats still playing background, you can’t help but feel your chest lighter. In that moment, neither of you need to share words to know, he doesn’t need to tell you about his session for the feelings to sink.

Despite any doubt and above any insecurity, being right there feels just right.

It’s not his day and age. For a long time, he was nothing but a misplaced piece of the universe. Then without his best-friend, just an unknown face for the team to swallow.

Not anymore.

There was a time of misplacement and sure, he no longer has Steve on a back-up call but life has given him good things. Good people. Sam and Wanda. Love. You. And in that moment, after a long day of reflection, Bucky just feels thankful above any odd feeling.

“Feelin’ great.” He muses. It’s genuine and it makes your smile widen upon his accent slip, only cut short by Bucky’s lips briefly meeting yours again. “Thank you.”

Background music switching to an upbeat song and the shared slow, careful sway doesn’t change.

“What for?” You frown, wide eyes flicking between confusion and amusement through a quiet, huffed laugh. A beat until you look up through your eyelashes, and a sheepish shrug. “I haven’t done anything.”

Bucky bites back the reply—you’ve done everything and more, you’re everything—words for another time, other plans, a day with a better start. After all, he’s not going anywhere.

This is his place now.

And in the end of the day, that’s all it matters.

There’s a Saturday afternoon.

An array of long dresses and skirts mix-up with button-ups and printed ties on the bed, make-up and skin products all over the cabinet. The sun slowly lies down to a soft hue of orange that paints the bedroom space, and the off-beat singing coming from the bathroom makes you smile every now and then.

A coat of lipstick to the lips, mascara to the eyelashes. A well-placed hair pin to the side of your hair. Out of the bathroom Bucky gets, black suit and tie in place, not a wrinkle on sight to the white button-up shirt. The singing turns to a faint humming.

Short hair, trimmed beard. His blue eyes are alight. Positively beaming.

It’s just a few hours to go until the big event starts—Mr. and Mrs. Wilson anniversary, which they’re celebrating with one big ceremony to renew their vows with their children present. Bucky, much to Sam’s feigned dismay and Darlene Wilson’s stubborness, is now considered one of them.

In the very few opportunities you got to meet Darlene, she was nothing short of sweet to you and incredibly motherly to your boyfriend. Not much is needed to see how happy Bucky is to be participating in their day, and you can’t help but beam right back at him.

“Looking so handsome!” You grin, watching through the mirror as Bucky sits on the bed, shiny black shoes set on the floor. His lips are holding back a smirk. “I mean it, Bucky! This hair? I’m marrying you.”

At the words, Bucky looks up.

Between the Blip, his missions, your classes and whatnot, neither of you ever discussed the possibilities of a long-term future.

Have you both thought about it, though? Absolutely.

“You’re gonna get me in trouble.” Bucky sighs. Quickly settling into his shoes, a crooked smile curves up his mouth as he stands up, gentle fingers around your satin clad waist. “You’re so beautiful. I’m a lucky bastard, aren’t I?”

It feels like your brain instantly turns to mush over his words, and your tongue stumbles to find proper words to reply his sudden sweet outburst. Heat spreads through your neck and cheeks as you lean back against his chest, feeling Bucky’s arms wrap you completely with such warmth like home is supposed to feel.

Watching your reflections through the mirror, you can’t help but think how comforting the situation is, even if it can look silly to anybody else. How comforting is to see you with him, the changes, the little quirks that remain the same after a straight up mess.

How funny is it that you want to turn your little comment into reality?

How funny is it that Bucky wants that moment of certainty to freeze?

“You’ve got to help me with something.” You break the silence, smiling shyly before reaching out to the small jewelry box sitting on your make-up cabinet. A silver necklace with a studded little star is pulled out. “Please?”

Smart fingers wrap the necklace around your neck with ease, the touch of vibranium rising shivers to your skin as Bucky closes it with a little kiss pressed between your shoulder blades.

There’s that little moment of silence again until a sigh escapes from his lips, a beat of hesitancy rushing through his body before he’s fishing for the black box in his pocket. A box he’s been carrying for way too long now, just waiting for its buyer to build up the damn courage because that’s all it takes.

I mean it, Bucky! I’m marrying you.

“I’ve got something else for you to wear tonight.” Bucky says. Heart pounding violently through his chest, so much he thinks you might hear it, but voice sounding as light as ever under your curious eyes. “I—I’ve had it for a long time now. And I know it might not be the perfect moment but you just said you’d marry me.”

Turning around to face him, your mouth immediately falls open. Chest to chest, your eyes searching for his. And ss Bucky lifts the little velvet box and flips it open so, so easily with his metal thumb, your choked, disbelieved laugh fills the room.

The ring is beautiful.

No fancy stones, just a simple, silver band formed to wrap around a finger with its two ends meeting together on the top.

Both of you kept meeting each other over and over through accords, battles and sudden disappearances.

It’s meaningful enough to make your heart beat faster.

“You can’t be serious. Are you?” You ask dumbly, a silly smile soon growing on your lips as Bucky gives a playful glare. “You are. Holy shit, Bucky!”

“You aren’t sayin’ yes, baby doll.” Bucky jokes, starting to feel jittery with nerves despite a small grin. Under the anxiety and accent slip, he’s just loving to see how positively astonished you look. “I’m sweating under this suit and it won’t be good for—”

Red lips crash upon his in a rush, your fingers fisting the lapels of his suit so hard that Bucky almost stumbles on his feet, making him pull your body flush against his own. He’s sure your fingers are wrinkling his jacket just as much as his metal ones are wrinkling the delicate fabric of your dress. And your make-up, thank God, you’re wearing the smudge-proof lipstick.

There’s no time to breathe between quick, several pecks and a gasped but definitely excited reply.

“I am saying yes!”

There’s another Satuday afternoon.

A pair of booted feet walks through the tight hallway of the shoebox apartment, laughter completely filling the place as a pair of heeled feet bumps the wall in a funny noise.

The white sandals are a perfect match for the white mini dress, its hem flowing over very familiar thighs, showing a little too much because the position—or general space really, isn’t the best. Turns out that despite your skepticism, Bucky can carry you in bridal style through the cramped space. Even though, you can easily spot a stain in the back of his blazer because of a knocked vase. 

It doesn’t really matter.

As Bucky puts you down, your heels are kicked off and you immediately reach out to the memory board on the wall, pinning up a marriage certificate like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

When you turn around, Bucky is sitting by the edge of the bed just like one week ago, but now sans apprehension of an insecure man.

“We’re married!”

The gleeful tone of your words make him smile right away, pulling you closer with a gentle tug until you’re standing between his legs. Towering over him, your hands cup both of Bucky’s cheeks, thumbs brushing over the sharp, stubbly cheekbones. Your heart swells in your chest, happiness and love and calmness, because everything about the day really had been simple.

A city hall wedding with Sam, Wanda and Sam’s parents as witnesses, exactly a week after their own second wedding. Very simple and easy, as the decision of marrying each other had been.

“You’re officially a Barnes.” Bucky grins, hands brushing down the back of your thighs. Gentle fingertips under the hem of your dress, he silently urges you to sit on his lap. “Told ya, got me in trouble.”

“You say that as if you didn’t want to marry me.” You scoff playfully, wrapping your arms around his neck as settling down over him. “You can’t fool me. I totally noticed you were nervous back there.”

Not bothering to deny your words, Bucky shrugs. Even though he was nervous, it doesn’t really matter. Wrapped up in each other, surrounded by the quietness of the apartment, all he cares about is you.

A little kiss pressed to your neck.

“Well, you’d be nervous too if you were marryin’ the prettiest girl in the world.”

A laugh and a little kiss pressed to his nose.

“Well, I was nervous marrying the prettiest boy in the world.”

And then—Bucky’s lips are meeting yours in a soft kiss that swallows a sigh, hands steady and gentle around your waist as he dips down to the bed under your body. It feels like you’re both back at the ceremony again, high on your love and completely unaware of everything that isn’t each other. And he kisses you once, twice, three, four times.

Just enough to ground him, to remind him that this is what his life came to.

Don’t they say that after a storm, there’s always calm?

Yeah, well. This little shoebox apartment in the heart of Brooklyn.

This might be just it.

[ghost-chance]

I’ve been feeling older than usual today (for a good reason, urg) so I looked back in my files at some of my godawful artwork from when I was an angsty teenager...and I found THIS.

Yep, awful. This was after I broke my dominant wrist (for the second time, mind you) and while my muscles were still weak and cramping anytime I used them. Before that injury I spent many hours putting together my own OC-driven Dragon Ball fan-manga (...it was awful. Don’t ask. I’ve blacked out my previous pen-name and a couple identifying marks from shame.) and I realized most characters looked exactly alike when showing similar emotions. This was how I went about ‘fixing’ that problem - I scribbled up character studies for the worst offenders to show how each expressed common emotions and fine-tune my technique. Nurse Yani here is the only survivor from those doodles, showing concern, embarrassment, annoyance, anger, loneliness, and confidence, all heavily influenced by typical anime expressions. Did it help? A little, but I haven’t drawn as much since then. (My wrist, unfortunately, never fully recovered and now I’m developing carpal tunnel. Joy.)

The kicker? When I scribbled this...

...I never expected it would soon become my inner reaction to half the people I share the world with. At least, while it’s a rarely-used skill that drains the life out of my arms, my drawing skills have improved since then. As awful as that page was I feel obligated to include proof of improvement:

Character sketch of Kineo, transferred to my tablet for line-work. His hair looks like a freakin’ raccoon tail but I trained myself out of some pretty awful habits. (i.e., flat-face profiles, thin-and-pointy tiny noses, unrealistically tiny mouths, eyes don’t match each other or the angle, eyebrows magically change shape becuz emotionz, and what even are facial contours everyone has round faces with a couple pointy spots.

...and here’s the perpetually incomplete digital coloration of said line-work, complete with messy color-grab splotches and a reminder of where the light is coming from if and when I decide to finally put in proper highlights and shadows. As much of a pain in the ass as this has been, I might just leave it flat. If anyone’s curious I’ll add a few details about the character later.

You can still see some of the contour guides left from the sketch and I missed a big part of his hair, but there’s definitely improvement from poor Yani. Now if only I could manage this kind of thing more than once in a blue moon and without physically injuring myself in the process!

[precure-stuff]

Aikatsu On Parade Rewrite Part 4(Episode 16-20)

READ PART 1-3 HERE OR READ THE CHANGES TO CANON LIST

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Changes to CANON:

Raki acquires the Constellation PR by studying Amahane’s design method with Sena.

Magic Blood performs Ragtime of The Moonlit Night is performed

Reflect Moon perform in their Jeweling Dresses

 Aoi, Shion and Ako act together·       

 Raki and Sora are good friends(Designers)·      

The Christmas live is Hello Winter Love (Raki. Hinaki. Lily. Juri. Maika. Ichigo)·       

Aikatsu On Parade Episode 16- Remembering Joy

This episode starts with Aine and Mio appearing on TV. PP,HC and Raki are watching and can't seem to find out whats missing. This goes on until Wakaba walks in as the commercial plays on loop. "Huh? You two collabed with Yume?" Mio nods as her gaze remains fixed on the screen. "Then you two should sing together. Mio feels Vivid Inspiration and Aine turns to her. "That's what's missing. We need a song together!"

They send Raki to find Yume and she takes a bus to Yotsuboshi. As she's looking for Yume she runs past a woman carrying beautiful blue flowers. Raki stops and stares up at the woman's red eyes.

It's Hotaru. She mentions that she's on her way to Venus Ark. Raki asks her whether she's seen Yume. Hikaru's sister tells Raki that she'swith the S4. Raki finds Yume,Ruka,Mahiru and Ako. To her surprise they were also watching the commercial.Raki takes S4 to Star Harmony

The song writing process begins as Yume, Mio and Aine start writing As they work away the rest of S4 has fun outside. Maika and Ruka  dance together as Ema talks to Ako about the movie she made. Kirara shows up and her and Ako start to bicker. Yume stops writing and opens the curtain tps tare outside. Koharu is standing behind her with candy and notices something is wrong. She walks up behind her and tells her to join them. She tosses Raki a candy through the window and walks out to meet her. Yume and PP realise they were being too serious and decide to have fun with the song. As they work on it late into the night they fall asleep. Raki and Koharu walk in to cover them in blankets and steal a peek at the lyrics.

The next day Yume and PP unveil their new song together as part of a children’s show on television. The song is Feeling Of Justice and the Appeal is Rainbow Palette Flight. A variation of Trio Flight from Aikatsu Season 3. As the show ends, PP and Yume celebrate at Star Harmony. Hotaru arrives to pick up Kirara in the middle of the party.  Ako asks what they’re up to and Kirara says that Elza seeks an Aikatsu that surpasses all worlds. Ako is confused. Kirara seems a little more serious than usual and that detail unnerves her. The episode ends with a shot of Elza with cards of every idol that has appeared so far( In Aiparade)

 Episode 17- The Explosive Dynamo

The episode starts with Raki looking for inspiration. She plans on designing a new PR but doesn’t know where to start. Aine arranges for her to have a sit down with Chiharu and sadly, nothing comes of it. At the end, a disappointed Chiharu suggests they go outside. “Are we looking at nature?” Raki asks. “No,” Chiharu says, “I simply want to show you something new. It’s a new phenomenon that only happens once a day.” Chiharu leads Raki to the field as Wakaba runs up to them. “You’re just in time.” Wakaba stares up at the dusk sky as three silhouettes emerge from the clouds. The three girls decline as Raki is left stunned by their skill. They eventually hold hands and begin to rotate as they launch their parachutes. They land at roughly the same time to the applause of their audience. “Excellent!” “Yes!” Hibiki and Kaede pose together as Mirai walks nonchalantly toward the girls. She mentions that the timing was a bit off but with some work it would be perfect. Raki asks who the other girls are. “Together we are Dynamo! Hibiki! Kaede! Mirai!” Wakaba squeals in excitement and mentions that Mirai trains her. (She’s more of a fangirl in this rewrite)

Hibiki mentions she needs to get to Venus Ark and runs off as Mirai wipes off her sweat. Kaede pulls flowers out of her hat and Wakaba loses it. She says she can’t wait to form a Friends and get to Mirai’s level. Raki realizes she doesn’t have a Friends unit either. She thinks to herself that Wakaba would be a great fit. Almost as if she read her mind Wakaba wants to perform with her instantly. Mirai is hesitant but says she’s intrigued by the pop they’ll produce. “Would you like to see Wakaba’s stage?” Mirai asks Raki. She agrees but Chiharu mentions its really late. The following morning Wakaba walks into Raki’s room and invites her to watch Dynamo’s practice. They sit by as Wakaba tells Raki all about Love Me Tear. Raki is overwhelmed and simply starts to talk about Dresses. Wakaba shows her the Humming Leaf cards and Raki’s eyes are caught by the Tiroler Tangerine Coord. She adores the lace over the middle of its bodice. Mirai smiles as she sees them getting along.

Dynamo puts on a live that evening for the Star Harmony students. Their song is Nice To Meet You! As for the coords, I like that Luminas sometimes wore somewhat matching coords from their individual brands. So here, Hibiki wears Dazzling Purple Coord. Mirai wears the Arabian Marble Coord. Kaede wears the Parallel Hunter Coord. As they watch the show together, Raki and Wakaba promise to get better together. Wakaba gives Raki a clover and makes a pun about her being lucky. The two promise to form a Friends once they become better idols. The last shot is of the clover pressed into the pages of Raki’s design books. (Coords for this episode below)

 Episode 18- The Jewel of Solvette

Once again, Raki is doing research on dresses and decides to look up Dynamo. She sees a few articles about the members and realizes that she doesn’t know who Hibiki’s partner is. In the Aifriends rewrite I did, season two ends with Believe Me Tear(IB+LMT) VS Honey Palette(HC+PP) Raki looks up Alicia and is left stunned by the Jeweling Dress. There aren’t too many results as Alicia wasn’t as popular in Japan as the rest of Believe Me Tear. She logs onto a Solvette fan site and asks where she can see more of the dress. The fans inform her that the cards were stored in Solvette’s museum as a national treasure. This leads Raki to look for Hibiki as a meand to get to Solvette. The first stop on her search for Hibiki takes her to Wakaba.

“It’s you again!” Wakaba says. She runs up to Raki who asks where Mirai and the rest of Dynamo are. Wakaba tells her that they were training with Kaede at the moment. She asks her if there’s any way to find Hibiki directly and Wakaba mentions that she has her number. On a video chat with Hibiki she mentioned that she could have Raki come to Solvette in a week due to the processes. Raki smiles. Wakaba ends the call and asks Raki to take a break from designing by watching her stage. Wakaba performs This World is Wonderful in the Tiroler Tangerine Coord. Raki adores the stage and tells Wakaba she no longer seems like an idol rookie. Wakaba tells Raki that she’s not much of a rookie either. “You’ve performed with great idols and made amazing dresses”

Throughout the week, Raki sketches in her book as she receives visits from Koharu and Sora. They even bring her a mannequin. As the week passes by, Raki gets a passport and packs her luggage. At the end of the week she heads to the airport and meets Yume when she gets there. “What are you doing here?” Raki asks. Yume tells her that she has someone important to meet there. The two board the plane with Hibiki. Ideally the song, “Brand New Girl” from Prichan would be playing during this whole section to set the mood. As Raki alights she looks exhausted. Hibiki tells her that she must have really wanted to come. The three exit the airport.

The first thing that happens is that we hear a voice call out to Yume. Rola runs up to her and they hug and hold hands (like in the Aistars movie) This is immediately paralleled by I Believe reuniting. Raki nervously walks up to Alicia, fully aware that she’s royalty. Her guards stand before Raki. Alicia turns to face her and asks what she wants. Raki presents her cards and asks Alicia if she would let her perform in those cards. Alicia smiles mildly. She says that she is flattered. After seeing how much effort Raki put into it she claims she can see the love poured into the design. Alicia approves of the cards and lets Raki perform. Raki performs Your Entrance in the Jeweling Dress PR. Afterward Raki is exhausted and has to sleep on the way back to Japan. Alicia returns to Japan as well and tells Hibiki that she sees her younger self’s passion for Aikatsu in Raki. Rola feel asleep on Yume’s shoulder in the seat behind her.

 Episode 19-Return of Rock

This episode opens with a guitar riff blasting through the Dream Academy Dorms. Noelle wakes up in frustration. She knows her sister is up to something and marches off toward her usual training stop. Seira and Rola are having a competition that has been going on since dawn. Yume is huddled in the corner covering her ears as Headmaster Tiara watches with glee. Eventually Seira and Rola both give in as Yume reveals Rola didn’t even eat Breakfast when she discovered a rocker nearby. This seems pointless to Tiara who interrupts and sees the opportunity for an event. She wants to make an event out of it. The opening plays here.

After the opening Raki receives a call from Ichigo. She mentions that Seira will be competing against Rola and would like her to watch. Raki agrees and informs Tamaki. Hariu is present at the time and suggests that Reflect Moon should accompany her. Sakuya and Kaguya join her in the taxi and she sits in the middle back seat. Sakuya instantly sleeps on the window. Raki shows Kaguya the Dark Lolita coord. Kaguya comments on Raki’s growth as a designer.  They arrive at Dream Academy and notice a crowd. The driver comments that some of Rola’s foreign fans have showed up.  There is a big poster on Dream Academy’s building depicting Rola and Seira wielding guitars like swords.

Rola is in her dressing room with Yume and Koharu who gives her candy. Mahiru rushes in to hug her followed by Ako and Tsubasa’s arrival. They reminisce on the events of Rola’s departure in Aistars season 2. Ako tells Rola that she’d better win but Rola says that winning isn’t her goal but rather going all out on stage. Ako huffs and says that she should do her best anyway. She then walks out to join Noelle on the main stage. Noelle tells the audience that Ako will entertain their children until the main event and steps off stage. Ako smiles nervously and asks herself why she chose to do this. Her smile fades when she sees Kirara join her. She brings Caroline with her which really gets the children going and then they perform Please Mary. Kirara wears the Marchen Lollipop Coord and Ako wears the Fluffy Cat Coord.

Afterward we cut to Raki buying merchandise with Akari and PP. They stop by a stand selling unit themed ribbons and Akari instinctively picks a 2wings Ribbon. They all try on other ribbons and have candy pops with Madoka and Rin. Sora and Maria are helping the event run smoothly. Elsewhere, Aria and Rey are walking about in disguises. “Elza wants us to stay focused on her project but we need to have fun too.” Rey tells Aria. They continue to sneak around

With all that said and done, the crowd all gather at the main stage. The clock strikes three and Noelle introduces the two rockstars. Rola walks on from the left with Yume at her side. Seira walks on from the right with Ichigo by her side. “And now, let the event begin!” Rola performs Miracle Force Magic in the Rocking Melody Chord with her season 2 aura. Seira performs Idol Activity(Rock) in the Pinkish Union Coord. Once the stages are over, they both stand on stage exhausted.

The voting begins and the votes are adding up rapidly and stop right in the middle. Noelle announces a tie and the crowd goes wild. Seira tells Rola that if she’s Re then she’ll just be Mi. Rola says that they’ll continue through them and they’ll have a rematch someday. Raki goes backstage and meets Yume,Rola,Seira and Ichigo. They talk a little and we see Raki’s sister outside the dressing room door. She walks away with a smug smile and the episode ends.(All coords used appear below)

Episode 20- Double Moon Miracle

 This scene opens in Elza’s office. Mizuki and Hime sit across the table with Elza holding her head in her hands. Kirara, Rey and Aria stand outside the office eavesdropping with concerned expressions. “You’re time is up Elza.” Hime starts, “You had your chance to recruit Mizuki and I to Venus Ark…however we are still far too powerful to affiliate with an idol school.” Elza tries to retort but her mouth remains shut. “While we acknowledge your prowess, your dream to plunder all the greatest idols is far from reality.” Mizuki and Hime stand up to leave and Elza bangs on her table and holds up a set of cards. Hime turns and smiles, “That power is well known to us.” With that the two moon idols leave Elza’s office.

Cut to Starlight Academy as Mizuki gives Hime a tour. “This is where I started Hime, being Starlight Queen was merely the first step for me. The position is similar to your S4 position.” A few students run up to Mizuki and she gives them her autograph.

“Aren’t you worried that you’ve grown rusty?”Hime asks. Mizuki turns and her aura appears.

“I don’t think so, have you?” Mizuki and Hime turn to face eachother. “There’s only one way to be certain.

Rumors soon spread that Mizuki is back in Starlight. This spreads to the other schools and their students buzz up. Reflect Moon tell the other Star Harmony girls that top idols of the moon will be performing at 4Star. Yozora lets the other girls know and metions even regional idols will be present.

4Star fills up with idols and fans as Hikaru sells them tickets. Anna berates him for still trying to save 4Star financially but he reminds her that her salary will come from the sales. Carol Alice shows up with a camera and reunites with Yume. “Elza wouldn’t come here herself and so she had me record it for her.” She reveals the hidden camera in her bonnet and sits down to watch. Mizuki and Hime perform Start Line in their LPRs. They have two appeals. Double Premium Moon Jewel and Double Premium Eternal Moonlight. The show ends and the crowd is left silenced. The silence stretches out as Hime and Mizuki walk off stage. The whole crowd erupts into applause. Hime and Mizuki congratulate each other and share a cup of tea backstage. They sit across each other on a table and Mizuki places a flower pot between them. “A new Aikatsu is blooming.” Mikuru says. The last shot is the flower pot with a seedling.

[artificialqueens]

To New Hytes (Group-fic) 7/? - Mac

AN: Again, all my love to Meggie and Grapefruit for betaing and being amazing humans. Also, I took some liberties with Russain politics….

Summary: Kameron and Blair talk about their past, Scarlet is acting strange, Trixie uncovers Katya’s secret, and Brooke is having girl problems.

Kameron made it a habit of dancing late at night. After all the other dancers were gone after the moon was high in the sky.

She let herself dance.

Sometimes Blair would come watch.

It had become almost routine for them.

Blair would sit in the audience and cheer and applaud like a lunatic. Other times she would draw in her sketchbook and smile as Kameron tried to figure out what turn came next, or what would look better, a jump or a dip.

Even if Blair was just napping quietly, she always made Kameron’s heart soar.

Tonight was one of those nights where Blair sat, bleary-eyed, sketchbook in hand, staring up at Kameron like she was the most beautiful creature on earth.

Kameron finished her performance with a dramatic bow just to make Blair laugh. Kameron liked the sound of Blair’s laugh. Like pretty much everything about Blair.

The older girl hopped off the stage and crawled over the first few rows of seats to come sit a row in front of the young designer, straddling the old theatre seat backwards so she could see Blair’s smile.

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment before Blair spoke in her soft voice. “I made somethin’ for ya.”

“Oh yeah? For me?”

“Well, I mean, I ain’t made it yet, but I drawn it.”

Blair turned the notebook in her hands around to show Kameron.

It was her. It was her, styled in one of the most beautiful dresses Kameron had ever seen. She was being dramatic, sure - but despite the small size of the gesture it filled her heart with joy.

And it was her, not just some model for the gown, it was Kameron. All 5 feet 11 inches of her. All muscles bulging out in a way that always made her a bit self-conscious. She didn’t feel self-conscious now, she felt… beautiful.

The dress was gorgeous. Long flowing blue fabric that looked like it floated out around her legs, the sweetheart neckline delicately clinging to her body in all the right places. The silver flecks from Blair’s pencil littered the dress with a glimmer, a shine that somehow seemed to add depth to the otherwise simple drawing.

But the details in her eyes were what really made Kameron melt.

They were deep brown, but still somehow shifted in the light. They spoke of pencil shavings and barely-there eraser marks, and time.

Kameron didn’t have words, she tried and failed to find words that weren’t going to scare Blair away.

That’s when she took notice of the pad Blair was sketching on.

It was the same one filled with sketch after sketch of Brianna.

Blair seemed to realize this at the same time Kameron did.

“I ran outta paper so I had ta use this one.”

“Yeah, sure,” Kameron spoke, trying not to let the jealousy and anger seep into her words. She stood up, making her way back to the stage, the lightness in her chest dimmed with every step she took.

“Kameron, what’s wrong?” Blair called after her.

“I’m not her,” Kameron said, not hiding the contempt in her voice any longer.

“I’m not sayin’ you are. Kameron, darlin’, listen-”

“No, angel. If you were hoping I’d wake up one day and be her, be a bitch to you, it’s not gonna happen. I would never do that to you. Never. I would never hurt you like that. I’d never hurt you period.”

“I know, Kameron, please I know.”

“I haven’t ever felt this way for somebody before.” Kameron softened her voice as she spoke mostly to herself. “I want to keep you safe.”

“You do.” Blair stood up, moving to stand within an arm’s reach of Kameron.

“No, clearly I don’t. You wouldn’t feel the need to put on the back of the page of your ex then.”

Blair was silent.

She looked up at Kameron, who sighed and sat down on the stage so they could look at each other.

Kameron took Blair’s hands in her own, trying to ground them both. “You think you’re ready but you aren’t. I’m tellin’ you, angel. You gotta believe me on this one.” Kameron tucked a piece of Blair’s hair behind her ear, and the younger girl smiled sadly as Kameron’s hand lingered for a moment before slowly falling from her face.

Blair rested her head on Kameron’s thigh. It was an awkward position, with Blair standing nearly bent in half to be close to the older girl, but she didn’t mind. Kameron trailed her fingers lightly through the long blonde waves, perfectly soft and sweet, perfectly representative of the girl it belonged to.

“What happened?” Blair asked softly after a bit of silence. “Why’d ya stop dancin’? You love it, clearly, you do.” Kameron’s fingers stopped, and for a moment Blair thought she’d overstepped. But her fingers continued their small caresses a moment later.

Kameron sighed. “We were fucking around in our theatre. The one we have now. Brooke and I had just finished signing the lease and we couldn’t wait a damn minute to celebrate. It doesn’t look the same now as it did back then. It was old, probably the oldest thing in town. Tech hadn’t been looked at, I mean, we had hardly looked at the damn thing. We were young, we thought we knew everything.”

Kameron breathed in and out, and Blair took her head off her lap to intertwine their fingers. “A stage light fell on me. It was old. We shoulda fucking checked before doing anything stupid.”

“We were dancing, fucking around, making our dream come true. And there was this loud crack and it fell. Right on my foot, shattered the thing up to my ankle pretty much. I fell on the stage and banged up my head real good. Doctors said I’d never walk again. Said I had a brain bleed.”

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah. I went through months and months of therapy, physical and otherwise. They told me not to push it, but I did. I pushed every day to walk again. To get the chance to dance again.” Kameron smiled. “They said I couldn’t ever be that strong again. So I spent my life proving them wrong. I worked out every day, ate so healthy. I got my body to where it is today and I’m strong… physically.”

Kameron paused. “Not so much on the inside, but that’s a work in progress.”

“Oh darlin’, you’re the strongest person I know.” Blair squeezed her hands and tilted Kameron’s face down to meet her eyes. “Thank you for tellin’ me.”

“Do you believe me when I say you aren’t ready to handle all this yet? You need to take time for yourself, figure out what it is you want. I’ll be here when you figure it out.”

“I believe ya,” Blair said. And she meant it. “But I also know that I got feelins’ for you.”

Kameron’s smile took over her face, but she tried to school it. This wasn’t about her right now. This was about Blair. “I’m not saying you gotta stop, actually please don’t stop liking me, it feeds my ego.”

Blair laughed a bit.

Kameron held Blair’s face in her hands. “I think I’m falling in love with you too, angel, and I’m scared, ‘cause the last time I fell in love with something I was told I’d never walk again.”

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere, Kameron. You got me.”

Kameron nodded and took her hands off Blair’s face before she could do anything stupid.

Blair smiled sadly at the gesture but tried to not let it show as she made her way out of the theatre.  

“Hey, angel?” Kameron called after her.

Blair whipped around.

“I’ll be here.”

Blair smiled. “I know.”

…

Yvie was perched atop the couch in her dressing room, Scarlet coming in every five minutes to double-check that she really was feeling better and had not, in fact, changed her mind at the last second.

“Scar, honey, you’re making me nervous with how much you’re pacing. I’m fine.”

“Yves, don’t you think you should take a break? I’m sure Nina wouldn’t mind letting you off for a few cities.”

“Scar, I wanna stay. I have to stay.”

“You have to recover and take it easy. You keep pushing yourself this hard and you’re gonna get really hurt.”

“I know. I know.” Yvie dismissed.

Scarlet lingered by the door, looking on as Yvie tied up the laces on her shoes. “We could make a mini-vacation out of it,” Scarlet suggested. “Go back to Albany. Have some time away. I think it would put some things into perspective.” Scarlet paused. “For both of us.”

Yvie looked up warily. “Scar, what are you saying?”

Scarlet wouldn’t meet Yvie’s eyes. “Nothing, I just thought it would be nice.”

“Miss Envy!”

Scarlet turned on her heel and walked quickly to the door at the sound of her name being called.

“Wait, no Scar-”

“It’s fine. Just rest.” Scarlet spoke with a small soft smile as she closed the door behind her.

Yvie tried not to get too in her head about what the fuck just happened. She had a show to do. She couldn’t focus on Scarlet’s recent weird behavior. Her overbearingness on Yvie suddenly, her reluctance to sleep, her frankly panicked tone of voice. And now this.

Scarlet was always the work-driven one. She never took sick days, never took more than a thirty-minute nap, and always had her phone on her. She was a machine when it came to this company. The fact that she was willingly suggesting that they take time off was more than a bit worrying.

Yvie brushed it off for now, but the little voice in the back of her head said this was the beginning of the end.

Yvie ignored it and proceeded to get ready for the show.

…

Trixie smiled at her phone for the millionth time that hour.

K: I’ll be seeing you soon

Katya had sent it hours ago, and yet Trixie was still staring at it like the message would change. Like it would disappear along with Katya herself and the whole thing would just be some big joke at her expense.

But the text didn’t disappear. Nor the memories of their wild adventure nearly a month ago.

The memories stuck in her brain, along with Katya’s name. Her full name. Trixie couldn’t get it out of her head.

Yekaterina Petrovna Zamolodchikova

She was sounding the letters out in her head over and over again on a loop when an idea suddenly hit her. Back ram-rod straight and eyes wide as she grabbed at her computer.

She was curious, so she spelled - to the best of her abilities - Katya’s name, her real name. No results were found at first, so after twenty or so minutes of putting her computer analytics degree to the test and fucking around with google translate, she finally got some results.

But the results that came up were all of some Russian princess who had gone missing a few years back. Trixie nearly gave up on the whole venture, but a strange curiosity got the better of her and she clicked on the first article.

She came face to face with her Russian lover.

Wait. What?

Katya, her Katya, the one with the frizzy dye job and horrible fashion and mysterious past was splayed all over countless magazines.

Trixie put each of the titles in the translator, each title confirming the sinking feeling in her stomach.

“Russia’s Lost Queen”

“Princess and Duke to Wed in May”

“Beloved Ruler Goes Missing”

“Three Years Later: The Effects of the Disappearance”

Trixie doesn’t think twice about calling Katya.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what, myshka?”

“Don’t call me that, I’m not a mouse.”

“Oh, so you are ‘mad’ mad.”

“You bet your fuckin ass I’m mad.” Trixie paused. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I guess cursing at the fucking Princess of Russia is frowned upon.”

“There is no official royalty in Russia,” Katya said without missing a beat, but the usual joy in her voice was gone, instead it was replaced with an impassive coldness.

“Tell that to all the news outlets calling you the ‘missing future queen’”

"Russia is a republic, the royal family is just a title. Most people don’t even know of the royal family because they are insignificant.”

“It says you have a say in all laws passed and that you can veto whatever you feel like."

“Which I have never done.”

“So it’s true?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You might as well have.”

“Listen, Trix-”

“Is it true you’re engaged too?”

“I was, yeah, but the law legally absolves the engagement after five years.”

Trixie laughed but there was no joy in it.

“You’re the future heir to the Russian throne! You’re engaged! You’re acting like these aren’t important things to tell someone!”

“I was waiting until we got married.”

Trixie didn’t laugh.

“Listen, myshka, it isn’t what it seems.“

“Really? ‘Cause it seems like you lied to me. Lied from the minute I met you.”

“Trixie, please, can you just listen to me for a moment, pozhaluysta?”

Trixie hung up the phone before Katya could convince her to stay on the line.

…

Blair ran through her list one more time with Monet who was rolling her eyes and assuring her that they got everything.

They were back in their home theatre for a week before heading back off to hit the western US cities. Blair saw this as a perfect opportunity to take care of a few ghosts from her past.

Monet nodded once, twice, three times, telling Blair it really was fine.

“What did you say you were going to California for?” Vanessa spoke, as she sat up from her position on Blair’s couch.

“Just some business that needs tendin’ to. I’ll be back ‘fore you know it.”

“You ain’t about to walk out on us, now are you, Miss Blair?”

“Of course not. I could never walk out on you, baby.” Blair threw a wink at Vanessa who fake swooned and fell dramatically back against the couch.

Blair giggled.

She hugged Monet, who gave her a knowing smile.

Blair leaned down to give Vanessa a peck on the cheek, but of course, Vanessa tried to turn her head and get a real kiss. Blair just laughed harder and chastised her lightly “I’m a lady after all,” she joked.

Blair left the theatre slowly, trying not to take notice of the crew members as they passed by her.

She hailed a cab and before she knew it, she was standing outside a gorgeous theatre in San Francisco.

It was one of those fancy old theatres that were reminiscent of Old Hollywood. The glamour and elegance practically dripped off the walls. If Blair weren’t here for a very specific purpose, she would have started snapping pictures to sketch out later.

For now, though, she was being escorted by a security team through the back passages of the gorgeous theatre, and she hardly had a moment to think before she was face to face with a woman she hadn’t seen in person for nearly three years.

“What are you doing here?”

If to further rub salt in old wounds, Brianna’s tone was harsh and demanding.

“I came to see you.”

“Why?”

So nothing had changed.

Blair smiled to herself and knew then that it was truly over. Whatever they had, it had ended a long time ago, but now, now it was over.

“How are the costumes coming?” Blair ignored her question.

“What are you really doing here? Here to scope out the competition?”

“No. Jesus. Do ya really think so lowly of me?”

“Answer my fucking question.” Briana was drunk. Or high. One of the two. Blair used to be able to distinguish between them, but now, now it was like she was talking to a stranger.

“I just needed some closure. After everything.” Blair fought the urge to wring her hands. “We never really talked about it. ”

Brianna’s eyes flashed dangerously at the mention of their past. She looked around to the other people in the room. “Out.” She demanded.

They made themselves scarce.

Brianna sighed as the scrambling entourage took just long enough for her to take another swig from her water bottle, and Blair was positive now there wasn’t water in it.

Brianna sighed again and attempted to stand up and get closer to Blair. She bailed on that idea when she noticed she could barely walk. She sat back down, none too gracefully, and rubbed her forehead worriedly.

“I know what I did to you was shitty.” She paused, and Blair held her breath, hoping she’d get the apology she had so craved these past few years. “But it made me, baby.” Brianna held her arms out to the room around her. “It made me so much more than I was ever gonna be if I stayed.”

Blair didn’t bite back a bitter laugh at the words. “We all make choices in life, but usually we take a minute to think ‘bout other people’s feelins before we do shit like that.”

“I know.”

“No, ya don’t know. You cared ‘bout your career, trust me, I get it. But you never thought ‘bout mine. Not once in your whole plan did you ever imagine me makin’ it big with you. Did ya?”

“No.” It wasn’t said with any particular emotion attached to it, it was just… the truth. Brianna hadn’t ever thought they would make it. Hadn’t ever considered the possibility that they could have worked out.

Blair’s demeanor changed. She plastered on her most professional smile and spoke her next words calmly. “That’s all I came here for. Thank you, Mrs. Panandrani. Good luck with your show tonight.”

“Blair wait-”

But by the time Brianna could stand firmly on her feet, Blair was already out the door.

…

Kameron walked up the familiar stairs to Brooke and Nina’s office.

She smiled at the old scuff mark on the third stair from the top. She still distinctly remembered how Monet had unknowingly walked on the fresh coat of paint and left a trail of brown footprints all over the backstage area.

Kameron shook her head lightly, she didn’t have time for reminiscing. She knocked twice on the office door and let herself in.

“Hey, Kam. What’s up?” Brooke said, not looking up from her computer.

Kameron didn’t even take a breath before she started on her spiel. “I wanna join the company. I know I said I wasn’t ready but I am now. I wanna be up there. I know I’m not up to date on all the dances, but I can learn them. I can do it. Just give me a chance, B. Please.”

Brooke had to ask her to repeat herself once, twice, then one more time because she was crying.

Brooke couldn’t pull Kameron into her arms fast enough.

The two hugged and squealed and generally let themselves rejoice in the fact that after all this time, their dream, their original dream was happening.

Brooke pulled back but stayed close to Kameron, the safety she felt in the younger girl’s presence spurred her on.

“This is perfect timing actually, cause I’m gonna be gone for a bit and I need someone to take my spot in the lineup.”

“Where’re you going on such late notice, Miss Boss Lady?”

Brooke looked at the floor, her hands were clasping and unclasping with her breath. “It’s not a big deal, just need to check up on some things. See the cats, you know.”

Kameron pulled up a chair as Brooke rambled, nodding unconvincingly.

“What did she do?” Kameron probed.

Brooke sighed but couldn’t hide the smile on her face. Of course, Kameron knew. Who didn’t know?

“She didn’t do anything.”

“And that’s the problem.”

Brooke nodded. She may be incredibly obvious, but still. It was nice that she didn’t have to say anything. It was nice that Kameron just knew. Knew what she needed. It wasn’t that Brooke couldn’t talk to Nina or Monet, but those two were still so wrapped up in their honeymoon phase that she didn’t want to bother them with her own spiraling emotions.

“Have you talked to her?”

“What am I supposed to say?”

“‘Hey, Vanessa, I think I’m in love with you’ would probably get the point across.”

“I’m not in love with her! Jesus, no.”

Kameron gave her a withering stare.

“Okay then. How about ‘Hey Vanessa, I really like fucking you and I only want to do that. I don’t think about holding your hand or sleeping next to you or stealing kisses in between rehearsal or going on stupid cheesy dates with you. Nope. Just wanna bang you. That’s all.’”

“This isn’t funny, Kameron.”

“I’m amusing myself. Shall I go on?”

“Look. It’s not love. It can’t be that. I’ve only known her for-”

“Ten months.”

Had it been ten months? Already? It felt like weeks since the ball of chaos and energy that was Vanessa first graced their stage.

“I’ve only really gotten to know her in the past few weeks. And even still I don’t really know her.”

“You know what her pussy tastes like but not her middle name. Gotcha.”

“Not helping, Kam.”

“Sorry, sorry. Look B. I think you like her, and I know for you that’s new, but this is how we regular folk do things. We go up to the person, we ask them out, we keep doing that for a few weeks, then hopefully we start fucking each other’s brains out.”

“Jesus, Kam.”

“It seems like you guys skipped the first couple steps, but that’s okay. That’s fine.”

Brooke bit her lip, not sure what to say.

“Look, B. I know you haven’t done this before, had proper feelings. You had girls in your bed nearly every night in college, but you never really cared about them. Now I dunno if that was you not letting yourself get attached or what, but it was always just-”

“-me and you.”

“Me and you.” Kameron echoed.

Brooke smiled sadly; it spoke her next words for her. “You know I thought I loved you for a little while in there.”

“I know.”

They shared a private smile, no words were spoken, but an understanding passed between them. They both knew. They both had known.

The unspoken words were a mixture of ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘It’s fine’ and ‘I love you.’

“We never woulda worked. You know they say don’t mix business with pleasure.” Kameron shot her a wink.

The moment was broken and Brooke was left with her mouth hanging open at Kameron’s comment.

“What’s gotten into you recently?”

Kameron just smiled and shook her head. “Nothing, I’m just happy is all.”

“Well, cut it out. It’s giving you a personality. It’s weird.”

Kameron smacked her arm lightly.

“Ow, bitch.”

The first playful hit quickly devolved into a full-on fight, with Brooke and Kameron running around the small office space in the upstairs of a theatre they bought through their blood sweat and tears with a company they had built together.

And there they were. Acting like children.

Brooke swore she had never been happier.

[the-shadow-of-atlantis]

All The Stars (Part 2)

Summary: Nova adopts Lupin as her wereuncle. In other words this is very stupid and another filler chapter.

Tagging: @lizartgurl @melyaliz @coffee-randomness @thespacebuns @speedypan

Prologue, Part 1

“Nova! Professor Lupin is here.” Keti shouted up the stairs.

Nova quickly put the star chart she was working on away and grabbed her things for her lesson. She hopped down the stairs and walked into the kitchen.

“Hello professor.” Nova smiled brightly as she saw Lupin sitting at one of the chairs.

“Good to see you again Nova. Are you ready for your first session?” Lupin said with a warm smile.

“Yup!” Nova said cheerfully as she pulled out her supplies.

However Lupin was a bit stunned.

“Nova where are your quill and parchment?” He asked, Nova looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I have my pen and notebook. That should suffice shouldn’t it?” She questioned.

“The supply list said quills and parchment.” Lupin tried to reason.

“Notebooks have papers with lines which would make for papers to look neater. The fountain pen has the ink required for writing.” Nova reasoned and Lupin looked at her baffled. She glanced at her pen. “Would it help if I stuck a feather on it?”

Nova could hear her parents stifle a giggle as they worked on dinner. Lupin turned to look at her father.

“You weren’t kidding when you said she was going to be interesting to teach.”

“I tried to warn you.” Her father said but gave Nova a smile.

“Very well, you can use the supplies you have, though I’m not sure if when you get to Hogwarts they will allow you to have them. Now I think we can start with History of Magic and do potions after dinner that way we don’t accidentally contaminate the food.”

“Okay.” Nova smiled as she grabbed the right book.

~~~~~

“Very well for homework I want a two foot essay on the importance of the ingredients found in Cure for Boils.” Lupin said as he carefully put away Novas potion.

“I’m sorry what?” She asked looking at him confused.

“A two foot essay.” He repeated, Nova blinked.

“Can you just give me a word count?” She asked.

“I’m sorry?” Lupin asked.

“A word count. You know like 1,000 words or so.”

“Why would I do a word count?” Lupin asked.

”Well why would you assign a 2 foot essay, do you realize how easy it would be to cheat on that? I could write my letters very big or write sideways.”

“Now why didn’t I think of that when I was in school.” Lupin muttered. “Very well 2,000 word essay.”

Nova nodded and added it to her notes.

~~~~~

“Are you feeling okay professor?” Nova asked as she finished up her dinner, looking at Lupin who seemed a bit ghastly looking.

“I am fine. It’s just my illness.” He said as he finished up his food. “Thank you again for the food Keti it was delicious.”

“Of course Lupin.” Her mother smiled.

“What illness do you have?” Nova asked.

“Nova.” Her mother scolded.

“What?” Nova asked.

“It’s complicated.” Lupin smiled sadly.

“Are you dying?” Nova asked.

“No my dear, far from it.” Lupin chuckled.

“Will you ever tell me?” Nova asked.

“Maybe. In time.”

~~~~~

Nova hummed as she drew in her sketchbook, looking back into her telescope she focused it making sure she got the details right.

She sighed as she finished her moon sketch, it had been a bit of a boring afternoon. It was the week Lupin had not been able to come due to his condition. Nova flipped through her sketchbook and slowly frowned. She looked at the dates on her sketches. She’d only been able to draw the night sky when Lupin wasn’t teaching her, as she flipped through her book she began to notice a bit of a pattern.

Nova had a hunch but she wasn’t quite sure, still she climbed up into the attic and rummaged through her fathers things. She knew he still had his old Hogwarts books somewhere up here he had shown them to her a couple times.

“Nova what are you doing up there?” Her father asked from the ladder.

“Just trying to see if I can find some research for my paper.” Nova lied as she stuffed the book she found under her shirt.

“I thought you already finished your paper.” Her father said as she started to climb down.

“Yeah but I was wondering if maybe I missed something. I wanted to see what your books had to offer.”

“And?”

“I got what I need.” Nova smiled up at her father.

~~~~~

She studied Lupin carefully when he was back, he still seemed ill but a bit more relaxed.

“How are you feeling today professor?” Nova asked as she took her notes.

“Much better thank you for asking.”

“Did you get plenty of rest over the week?”

“A bit. But it was a long week.” Lupin sighed as he rubbed his neck. “Now this next charm is a quite difficult so focus as you perform it.”

Nova nodded as she held her wand up and carefully moved her wrist.

“Perfect.” Lupin said as he marked the paper he had.

“Halloween will be coming soon. Will you stay for our dinner?” Nova asked as she began practicing her next spell.

“I’m afraid not.” Lupin said as he fixed her posture.

“Oh, pity, it would have been fun. I’m allowed to stay up and watch scary movies. Do you like scary movies?”

“I’m afraid I’ve never seen any.” Lupin admits making Nova gasp.

“Oh we need to fix that.” Nova said before attempting her charm again. “Do you have a favorite monster?”

“Again I’m afraid not. And you?”

“Im partial to the zombie its interesting especially with the probably that they can be real magic or not. Though I kinda like werewolves.” She studied Lupin from the corner of her eye and noticed him stiffen.

“Is that so? And why is that?” He asked casually, Nova shrugged.

“They are interesting. Though it must be painful to go through the transformation every month. But that doesn’t make who they are any less human it just makes them more special.” Nova explained keeping her gaze focused and perfecting the charm.

“Is there something you’d like to tell me Miss?” Lupin asked.

“Nope, is there something you’d like to tell me?” She responded smiling.

“Something tells me you already know.” Lupin chuckled.

“I don’t mind.” Nova said sincerely. “I know how hard it is for you but you are not like what they described in the books. You’re a great person and a good teacher.”

“Thank you. Now shall we get back to the lesson?”

~~~~~

“I do not understand why you still insist to wear all that gear.” Lupin said as Nova fixed the dust mask on over her mouth.

“It is lab safety and it is essential.” Came Novas muffled reply.

“Magic can fix everything the potions may do.” Lupin reasoned.

“Excuse me if I dont want to feel the sensation of losing my eyes only to get them regrown. I’m pretty sure its a lovely experience.” Nova countered.

“Well you got a point there.” Lupin muttered. “Still you are very great with potions.”

“You do realize that if I add one too many slugs this potion will explode and melt the table.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because she tried it last night. Luckily her mother wasn’t home and I was able to remake the table.” Her father said.

“And why did you do that?”

“I like to see what would happen if I change the potion a little bit. Now I know. Makes for a pretty great bomb.”

“Nova.” Her father warned.

“Not like I’d ever use that information… unless needed to.”

“Nova.”

“What?”

“Well lets try not to melt the table this time shall we.” Lupin chuckled.

~~~~~

“Lupin!” Nova shouted from the living room. “Merry Christmas! Or almost Christmas.”

Lupin smiled as he stepped into the living room where nova was with her parents dressed in matching sweaters. Nova had already opened one of her presents and was now admiring what seemed to be a muggle toy.

“Sorry I’m late.” He said as he took a seat on the sofa.

“It’s alright.” Keti said as she got up. “Let me get you a cup of hot chocolate.”

“It’s not much but I hope you like it.” Lupin said as he handed Nova a small box.

“Can I open it?” Nova asked as she took the box.

“Of course.”

Nova opened the small box and gasped. In the soft velvet laid a pure black fountain pen that was delicately decorated with small specks of white to look like stars.

“It’s so pretty.” Nova said as he plucked the pen out she quickly ran to get ink and paper and spent the next few minutes testing the grip of the pen.

“I have something for you too.” Nova said as she rummaged through the presents.

“I hope it fits.” Nova said as she came back with a lumpy package.

Lupin unwrapped it and took out a dark brown jacket and a red scarf.

“You look like you needed a new one.” Nova said as Lupin shrugged on the jacket.

“It fits perfectly.”

~~~~~

Nova bounced in her seat as she waited, Lupin was going over the papers that were sent back from Hogwarts. He made sure to keep a straight face as he read them which was making her very impatient.

“How did I do?” She asked again and finally Lupin smiled.

“You passed, you shall be receiving your Hogwarts letter in a couple of months.”

“Yes!” Nova shouted as she hopped off her seat.

“MUM! DAD! I’m going to Hogwarts!!!” Nova shouted as she ran through the house.

Her parents came into the kitchen where Lupin was still holding her papers.

“Looks like the Hogwarts teachers are going to be in for a ride next year.” Lupin chuckled as he handed Keti the papers which she put on the fridge next to the report card she got from her muggle school.

Nova halted in the entryway of the kitchen as if just realizing something.

“So this means you’re not going to teach me anymore.” She mumbled.

“I’m afraid not.” Lupin sighed. “Though I’m glad I did. You are a very bright witch Nova, Hogwarts will be lucky to have you. Though I must admit I wish I could see you go toe to toe with Snape.”

Nova sat down and faced Lupin. She knew about Hogwarts from her father and even a little bit from her grandmother. But she knew Lupin was slightly younger than her father despite how he looked and it just dawned on her she didn’t know about his time there.

“What was Hogwarts like when you were there?” She asked and noticed a bit of a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

“Now That is a very interesting story.”