#and instead of like nicely shading her out she drew an x through her face with a sharpie lmao

[bookishjules]

last day of elementary school today for the 11yo i babysit <3 she took her sister's polaroid camera in and took pictures of all her friends. she had prepared a little poster thing to put them all on with labels with each friend's name. when she finished gluing all the photos down, she flipped the poster over and stacked cards that had memories written about each respective friend on them on one side, on the other, she has plans to attach a folder containing her 5th grade diploma. none of the pictures had her in it, but she said that was okay, because she would always remember herself hehe all she had to do was look in a mirror. but before i left for the night, she demanded we get a photo too. because you only get one last day of 5th grade. so she flipped the polaroid around and we took a selfie. and i'll pretend i don't feel special for being in the only polaroid with her in it as well from today <3

[probably-writing-x]

Shades of Green

Summary:

Warnings: Cursing, jealous relationship, some sexual hints at the start but it's barely there

Author's Note: Tried to make this a little more fluffy because I've been writing so many sad stories recently aha !! I hope you like it <3 Thank you so much for your request and for your lovely words x

---

"Babe are you ready to leave?" Drew calls out from downstairs, where he's tugging his shoes on.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," You say, throwing your necessities into your bag and slinging the small strap over your shoulder.

You grab your heels and hurry towards the stairs.

"We're going to be la-" He turns around to see you at the top of the stairwell, "Holy shit."

"Good shit or bad shit?" You laugh, hurrying down the steps and rushing to tug your shoes on at the bottom.

"Like the best shit," He smiles, "You look incredible."

You were wearing a burgundy red dress with a square neckline and a fitted bodice, the skirt with a high split on one side, with black heels and a black purse to match.

"Very sexy," He wiggles his brows as you stand up from getting your shoes on, smoothing a hand over your dress.

"Keep it in your pants, Starkey," You taunt, "We're going to be late."

You head out of the house and he follows behind you, opening the car door for you before you can get to it as you get into the passenger seat. He looked smart too, a grey suit that made his shoulders look broad and brought out the colour of his eyes.

"So, how do we know these people?" You ask him, checking over your makeup in the rearview mirror.

"I went to school with the groom, we were all in like one big group of friends," He explains, "Well, they were technically Freya's friends first but then I got to know them all obviously."

"Freya?" You frown a little, turning your attention towards him.

"Yeah," He nods, switching the car into drive and putting his hand on the back of your chair to start reversing off the driveway.

"Wait, hang on a second," You wipe your hands on the seat, "You didn't tell me your ex was going to be there."

Drew stops the car and looks at you, as if taken aback, "What are you talking about? You knew we still had the same friends."

You can already feel the lump in your throat, the way it seems to constrict against your attempt at any words, "I just... I don't know."

"Relax, (Y/N), believe me, we wouldn't be going if you had anything to worry about," He scoffs and starts reversing the car once again, one hand moving to find the aux cable that he reaches out for you to take.

You weren't sure why your chest still felt so tight.

~~~

The ceremony was a success and, of course, you cried - you couldn't remember the last time you got through a wedding without crying. Drew had sat through the entire ceremony with his arm around your shoulders on the back of the chairs, his fingers running over the curve of your shoulder aimlessly. You were now all mingling outside before the reception, both with a cocktail in your hand and Drew's eyes scanning everywhere to find food now that he was complaining about his stomach grumbling.

"Well, look who it is!" The voice seems to ring through you before you've even turned to see who it is.

You instead watch the way that Drew smiles at the sight, outstretching his arms, "Long time no see!"

A petite blonde hurries into his arms, her hair in big curls around her face and flowing down her back. She's wearing a blue dress that hugs her in all of the right places, shaping her curves like something you'd see as a Facetune final product.

"Oh its so good to see you Drew," She grins as she pulls away, "And you must be the famous (Y/N)!"

You force yourself to smile but you know it doesn't look natural, "Hi, it's nice to meet you."

"I'm Freya, but I'm guessing you've heard about all of us from Drew already."

"No, I don't think he's mentioned you," You shake your head, "Are you friends from school?"

Freya looks between you and Drew for a second and you can feel his eyes on you, a raise in his eyebrows like he's waiting for you to look at him.

"Yeah, me and Drew go way back," Freya continues, "You look gorgeous, I love this dress!"

"Thanks," You nod, taking a sip of your drink so you don't have to say anything else.

Freya takes a deep breath and turns to squeeze Drew's arm, "Well I need to go and find the happy couple, and do the rounds so I don't miss anyone. I'll see you two later, okay?"

She dismisses herself and Drew tilts his head to look down at you until your gaze catches him.

"Really?" He raises his eyebrows, less in surprise and more in irritation, "Are you kidding?"

"What are you talking about?" You shrug nonchalantly, moving your straw to your lips to take a sip of your drink again.

"Alright, not here," He glances around at the crowd before placing a hand around your forearm, pulling you with him as he weaves his way around the bodies.

The two of you break into a clearing just outside of the crowd, where you're out of earshot of the other guests.

"What the hell was that?" He questions, nothing but severity in his voice.

"Oh come on Drew," You scoff, "She was practically all over you. Well, look who it is," You mock her tone.

"Don't be like that, (Y/N)," Drew rolls his eyes at you, "You know we're friends, and she even told you that I mention you a load so what do you have to be worried about?"

"You don't have to deal with this, though, I don't speak to any of my exes, you wouldn't see them at weddings," You point out, "It's just weird."

"Jealousy doesn't look good on you, (Y/N)," He shakes his head, "I'm going to get another drink."

With that, he disappears back into the crowd of mingling people. You sip down the rest of your drink and take a deep breath, wanting nothing more than for the hours to tick down until you could leave.

~~~

You speak to a few of Drew's friends that you did know, and speak to the bride when you congratulate her on the day, doing whatever you can to avoid going over to where Drew was chatting to his other friends from school and a couple of the groomsmen. It was obvious that he kept looking over to you, his protective streak needing to keep an eye on you despite what he'd said. You find yourself looking at him too, willing for your eyes to catch onto each other at the same time.

Eventually, the two of you are sat down next to each other at one of the tables, surrounded by a group of people you didn't know. You sit down silently and watch as Drew does the same beside you.

"Hi, I don't think we've met before," The guy next to you starts, a man about your age with the typical features of tall, dark and handsome, "I'm Josh."

"I'm (Y/N)," You offer him a smile in return.

"How do you know the couple?"

You try to avoid looking over at Drew, "Just friends, you?"

"Yeah, I work with the groom," Josh explains, "You know, finance and all that boring shit."

You laugh and he turns around a little so that he is more centred towards you. Almost as soon as the movement happens, Drew reaches out an arm around the back of your chair.

"Do you want a glass of wine, babe?" He asks, leaning forward and towards you on the table as if making certain that Josh could see him.

You turn and glance at him momentarily, "I'll have a white wine please."

He smiles and presses a kiss to your shoulder, "Okay, honey."

Josh glances at the two of you and clears his throat, "I'm going to run to the bathroom before the food comes out."

You turn your head back towards Drew as he pours out the bottle of wine into your waiting glass.

"Really?" You try to fight back a smirk, "You know jealousy really doesn't look good on you, Starkey."

He doesn't look at you, but you see him clench and unclench his jaw, "That's not the same thing, that guy was all over you."

"Is Freya single? I'm sure they'd make a great couple, they have a lot in common," You taunt and he sets the bottle back down into the middle of the table.

He can't help but smile at your comment, leaning back into his chair.

"You're lucky you're cute," You mention, leaning to him to press a kiss to his jaw.

He smiles brighter at the touch, leaning into you just a little.

When you pull away, he brings up a hand to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear, his gaze flicking between each of your eyes as if searching for confirmation that you are listening to him, "You know you have nothing to worry about with Freya, right? She's just a bit full on but we're friends, we just stayed friends because it was easier than trying to split the entire group when things ended. I don't know why I didn't tell you, I should've done. I just didn't think it would matter because you should know how crazy I am about you."

"Crazy, huh?" You fight back the smile tugging at your lips.

He runs his thumb down the side of your jaw, his fingers hooked behind the back of your head as his other hand brings your fingers up to his lips, "Something like that," He presses a kiss to your knuckles.

"Nothing to worry about?" You say and he draws his eyes back up to yours.

"Not with her, not with anyone. Not now, not ever, okay?"

"Okay," It comes out as a whisper as you smile at him, your cheeks heating up.

He leans in and kisses you firmly, longingly, as if solidifying his erasing of every worry you'd ever had, his confirmation that you were his and he was yours.

[dapper-zappa]

Spider Outta The Bag | Miguel O'Hara

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Spider-Woman!Reader

Summary: Miguel is fed up with LYLA pestering him about his crush on you… only for him to accidentally confess the feelings in front of you.

Word count: ~1,3K

Warnings: Fluff, banter, possibly OOC Miguel?, TSSM series ending spoilers, LYLA being a sassy ahh mf, accidental confession, oblivious Y/N,

A/N: First Miguel fic woop woop, and if there's any inaccurate Spanish, please tell me! Also, I think it'd be nice to use the Peter from The Spectacular Spider-Man, who appeared on ATSV briefly as Y/N's mission partner in this fic instead of someone like Miles, Hobie, Jess Drew, or Ben. TSSM!Peter's world is canonically Earth-26496 in the Marvel wiki so that's why I wrote it that way.

Also, based after this prompt !

For the upteenth time, LYLA sighed at Miguel, who only did nothing but sit down and think. “Wow, Miguel, I swear you’re way more shy than a high schooler crushing on someone.” the AI groaned, shifting her form so she’s now sitting on top of her boss’s shoulder as she filed her nails. “Since she’s gonna go for a mission later thanks to an anomaly in Earth-26496 with the Peter from that world, why can’t you just tell her when you call her here for the mission briefing? That’ll save you way more time instead of wasting your time waiting for her to confess instead!”

His growing feelings towards you (and how he constantly tried to deny it) were often challenged if someone else teased him about it. While it’s usually 

his AI assistant that pestered him about his silly schoolboy crush, Dr. O’Hara also had got a fair amount of spider people who teased him to try to make him ask you out. From Jess, the Peter with a 5 o'clock shadow who almost always had baby Mayday on his side, Hobie, while not close with him, tends to make little jabs on how Miguel “was always buzzin’ to see Y/N”, even the melodramatic hunk Ben Reilly joined in at times. 

Yet at the same time, deep down he always yearned for you to return his feelings. 

“For the last time, LYLA. I’m not in love with Y/N L/N.” Miguel grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

LYLA’s projection shifted again so she’s now in front of his face, arms crossed as she popped a bubble of bubblegum as pink as her heart shaped shades.

“My goodness, you’re doing it again.” 

“What thing? I didn’t say anything bad before.” Miguel gestured with his hands to try to prove LYLA’s only joking or making some sort of false accusations to toy with him. 

“That thing! Where you’re so in love with someone yet pretend you’re not in love with them!” The AI bursted into laughter at how bad he is at pretending he’s not being lovestruck. “Every day you whine about how you don’t love Y/N yet whenever someone says it in front of your handsome face, you often look at her like a lost puppy whenever she’s in the room or whenever you two go on missions together. I’d say you’re one of the funniest in terms of the spider people being in love.” she chortled. 

Miguel shot LYLA a glare, shutting her mouth up once she was faced with a pair of angry scarlet orbs. The AI tried to open her mouth again but she was cut off by him.

“Then what am I supposed to say? Hey Y/N, I’m so deeply in love with you that you’re all I think about all the time-”

“-what?”

Before he knew it, he was interrupted by two familiar voices exclaiming at the same time. His jaw dropped agape, the scarlet hues in his now widened eyes dimmed down at the sheer shock that crept through him when one of the people who just walked into his office was Y/N L/N out of everyone else. 

“…LYLA?” 

“Yes?” 

“Why didn’t you tell me Y/N is coming?” he scolded, trying to hide the nervousness in his voice.

“I was trying to tell you that but you cut me off.”

On the other hand, the embarrassment also hit you, especially because you still couldn’t believe what you and the Peter from Earth-26496 - or as you’d nickname him, Spectacular Peter had just witnessed. Peter and you settled on the nickname when you praised his performance, calling him “spectacular” in a mission and you used that nickname to distinguish him from the many other Peters in the Spider Society. 

Miguel O’Hara just accidentally confessed he’s in love with you.

“Estupendo.” With his back now facing you and Peter, Miguel huffed in frustration and embarrassment. “Just make sure to tell no one about this.” 

(Great.)

“Miguel, I know I’m supposed to get the details about the mission in Earth-26496 but why didn’t you tell me from the start?” you questioned. “That way at least you wouldn’t have to hide your feelings around me, even if I ashamedly didn’t know about your little crush on me before I heard you saying it in front of me and Peter.” 

Peter, who noticeably appeared more cartoonish than most of his variants who were part of the Spider Society, could only give your shoulder a few comforting pats to attempt to relieve you from the amount of embarrassment by your own boss yet at the same time not cause any more trouble.

“At least it’s not the time when Gwen and I broke up with our partners Harry and Liz just so we can get together with each other… only for me to find out that my best friend’s dad is the Green Goblin soon after.” Peter lamented in remembrance of that very awkward moment in his love life.

Conflict grew even more - perhaps way more than it was within Miguel’s heart before he accidentally revealed his crush in front of you, someone who had no clue he liked you. His heart pounded under his ribs, waiting so hard for it to burst from how uneasy this moment was making him. His combed hair became messier the more he ran his fingers through his hair, as he tends to do it whenever he’s feeling stressed or anxious. 

This had gotta be the time where he should be all serious and make sure you and Peter got the needed information… right? After he calmed down, Miguel instead turned around to face you and your partner for today’s mission, approached you, and gently placed his large hand on your shoulder.

He briefly glanced at Peter (who’s getting really awkward from finding out his boss has a crush on his partner for today’s mission) before fixating his chestnut brown eyes on you. 

“I’m sorry for embarrassing you. I wasn't careful about my words before and I won’t do it again in front of you.” he suddenly retracted his hand after remembering that he’s supposed to give you the details of the anomaly in Earth-26496. 

LYLA projected 2 screens in front of you and Peter as Miguel began his briefing. The first screen displayed the details and a virtual model of a variant of the infamous Scorpion, but this particular version appeared to be a tall and muscular woman donning the Scorpion armor, complete to the venom infused in her tail’s stinger. On the other hand, the second screen displayed the Scorpion variant rampaging in that world’s city center. Police cars surrounded all over her, but to no avail as she started attacking the police officers and citizens began scurrying away from the now dangerous area. 

“Oh, I forgot. A Scorpion variant is rampaging in Earth-26496 and all you two have to do is to take down this anomaly, capture her, then bring her to the HQ so that the Go-Home Machine can send her back to her native dimension.”

“By the way, she looks to be quite tough because she’s armed with a venom stinger in her tail, so you both have to be careful or else you’ll suffer from hallucinations and fatigue induced by her venom.” LYLA added.

“I wish you two luck with today’s mission.” Miguel said firmly, ending the briefing for today’s mission. 

“We will, Miguel.” Peter replied. 

He immediately opened a portal to his native world for you two to go in and immediately stepped inside, but right when you were about to step inside the portal, Miguel stopped you.

“So… would you like to go to dinner tonight with me? Maybe I can take you to my favorite place in Nueva York once you and Peter are done handling the anomaly. For our first date.” you turned around at his offer. 

“I’d love to, but I have to go now. I’ll see you again!” 

“You too.” he smiled. 

With a last wave towards him, you went in the portal and it closed itself right after. Now what’s left to do is for you to help Peter capture the Scorpion variant anomaly and bring her back to the HQ, just as you were told.

[rat-typewriter]

HATING WEDDINGS - DABI X READER

SUMMARY: just hours before you’re due to marry a man you don’t love, Dabi comes to change your mind.

Warnings: Swearing ig?? if that’s a warning lol

Proofread?: Not for even one second 😌

You sat, staring at your reflection - the stylist nervously tried to meet your eyes in the mirror. It was the third hairstyle she had tried in two hours. 

“It’s nice.” You said, attempting to mask the disappointment in your voice - but judging by the way your soon-to-be mother-in-law rolled her eyes and huffed, you were still a bad liar. 

Over the year that you had known the woman, the only thing you seemed to have in common was a mutual dislike for one another. You were not the sort of bride she wanted for her son - but this wasn’t about love or fairy-tales or happy endings. It was strictly business. 

Quirk marriages were much more common than most people would’ve liked to believe; they paid well too. You’d been found by the guy’s father - an owner of a wealthy construction company - who knew your quirk would be an invaluable asset to their business. It wasn’t the life you had imagined for yourself, but at least money would never be an issue for you again.

Your mother-in-law had pulled the hairstylist into the doorway - as if standing a few feet away suddenly made you incapable of hearing their hushed voices. Your legs seemed to be buzzing with adrenaline that only seemed to be getting worse as the ceremony drew closer and your head was starting to feel slightly too light for the rest of your body - as if it was fading into a puff of smoke. 

Just as you began to half-heartedly wonder if you might be about to vomit: your phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number flashed up on your screen.

Last chance.

Quickly, you swiped the message away - averting your gaze, instead focusing on the colours of nail polish picked out for you. You had no idea that there could be so many shades of white: eggshell, cream, ivory, pearl, snow, chiffon, porcelain-

Now or never.

You stared at the text, your legs becoming more restless than ever. Now or never had become an almost-inside joke between the two of you - a secret reference to the first time you met that you both dropped into as many conversations as you could. Now or never summed up everything about the two of you.

—

You stumbled through the snowy alleyway, still reeling from excitement - and smoke inhalation. Your whole life you’d wanted to do that. To burn something. Not to light people’s cigarettes or warm their cold hands or melt their icy car doors. To burn something. 

Despite your blackened clothes and singed hair, the cold was starting to numb your fingers. The night air was freezing; turning your breath to fog in the dark. Your flimsy canvas shoes had long been soaked-through by the wintry slush that covered the streets - you hoped it wasn’t far. 

You hoped this place was even real. 

You reached a metal door - dented and dimly lit by a flickery yellow bulb - and knocked. Do you knock at a villain’s hideout? You wondered to yourself, beginning to feel nervous. Everything you knew about this place had come from whispers on shady streets or out the back of bars. 

Pulling you from your thoughts, the door swung open - the metal groaning as its hinges scraped together.

You couldn’t quite see the person who had opened the door, as they stood a few feet back - hidden by the darkness - but his voice was low and raspy when he spoke.

“Coming in?” 

You stood, staring into the black - your legs suddenly made of lead, but your chest alive with electricity. 

Another moment passed, the quiet filled by your soft breath turning to fog. A van rumbled past on the road and you caught yourself glancing back, watching as it rolled by. 

“Now or never.” He said and you turned back to face him. 

“Better be now then.” You said hoarsely - your throat burning as you spoke. 

The stranger stepped back and a yellowy strip of light crossed his face, illuminating his features. His skin was littered with scars you recognised as burns - something you had become familiar with, over the years of being unable to control your fire quirk - but beneath them he was young, no older than you.

His eyes crinkled slightly and he grinned - which suddenly sent sparks of fear and excitement through your chest again.

“Come on in then, sparky.” 

—

It was the fifth time that your phone buzzed - two minutes before the ceremony was to begin - that you gave in. 

You suddenly jumped out of your seat, the bridesmaid (who you barely even knew) and had been fixing your hair stumbled back.

“I- Uh,” you stammered as the other bridesmaids turned to stare at you. “I’m going to the toilet.” 

And you took off. 

You stumbled out of the door and down the hallway in shoes that were horrendously uncomfortable. You took a left, then a right, then a left again - until you found an open window. 

Without thinking, you forced the window as wide as it would go and shimmied through - tumbling out and into a bush.

As you attempted to pull yourself out and untangle your clothes - which had caught in the branches - you heard a familiar laugh. 

“Wow. Bit desperate to leave are we?” 

You whipped around, finding yourself face-to-face with Dabi. 

“Didn’t think you missed me that much,”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out and your brain was suddenly empty. Butterflies erupted in your stomach - the boy who you hadn’t seen in over a year was still able to make you nervous.

He grinned - oh how you’d missed that - and laughed again. “You look gorgeous, Doll.”

“Thanks,” you breathed - a little lightheaded. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

He stepped forwards - rolling his eyes; offering a hand to pull you out of the bush. “Oh, how you flatter me,”

Accepting the hand, you let him heave you out of the bush - pulling you far closer than necessary. You stood practically against his chest, having to crane your neck slightly to look him in the eyes. 

You swallowed and felt your face grow hot. 

God he knew just how to make you feel sixteen all over again.

"I've missed you." You breathed.

He smiled - with only a hint of his usual smugness. "I've missed you too, Sweetheart,"

His hand found its way to your waist and he bent down, quickly kissing you. It wasn't long or passionate or hot. Just a regular, discrete peck on the lips.

But God did it make you fall in love all over again.

The sound of voices suddenly echoed around the corner and Dabi glanced around. He took a step back and turned to you with that slightly-terrifying, but oh-so-exhilarating grin.

“What do you say we get out of here?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He extended his hand to you, faking a courteous bow and in return you grinned and curtseyed. Giggling slightly, you put your hand in his and he pressed a brief kiss to your knuckles - winking up at you.

"Dabi Todoroki I never knew you were such a gentleman!" 

"If you ever tell anyone, I'll have to kill you" 

For a moment, his tone is so serious that you almost believe him - but then he smiles and tugs on your hand.

"C'mon, I hate weddings." 

"Me too." You giggled.

With your hand in his, you both took off running.

[littleplacetoescapeto]

Darkened Desire - CHAPTER 3

Series Summary: Eris and Selene, daughter of Rhysand and Feyra, heir to the Court. Two people who don't exactly love each other are forced to marry for political reasons. A story of love and hate, but also of power and fall.

Pairing: Eris Vanserra X Selene (daughter of Rhysand and Feyra)

Started: 25/7/23

A/N: I ended up splitting this chapter so it wouldn't be so long, part two in Eris's room will be waiting for you next time :)

------------------------

That evening, we moved to the Autumn Court. I stood in front of a big castle covered in long roots. Now, I was in the autumn court. I knew we had a wedding night to go through, just more practice.

We walked through long, cold hallways with pictures of people from the autumn court and other paintings showing strange creatures.Eris walked beside me, not saying anything as we turned a few times and then stopped.

"Here's where you'll be staying," he said.

I looked at him, surprised. "You mean this is my room?"

"You don't really think we're sharing a room, do you? I'm happy to be away from you. My room is down the hall, far enough that I won't have to see you at all."

"Well, thanks for being so considerate, Eris. At least we share the same opinion on some things." I said, being sarcastic. I was about to go inside the room when I noticed he was following me. Eris was right behind me and closed the door as soon as I stepped in. I stared at him, wondering what he was up to.

"But we're supposed to spend the night together," he said.

"That's not something I'm excited about," I replied. "The sooner you become the High Lord, the sooner I can leave. That's the only time we'll ever work together. I won't tell you what I'm doing, and you won't ask me questions. We'll stay out of each other's way. Got it? Now leave. I want to change."

"Sure. Someone will come to get you when it's time. And, um, wear something nice and sexy on your way to my room. You know, so no one doubts what we'll be doing in my room“ he said with a smirk, and then he left my room before I could even react.

What a jerk.

Halina brought me a few things, though not much. We agreed that I would bring more items with me later. When we looked at my clothes, there was nothing suitable for a wedding night. Well, I didn't anticipate needing something like that. Instead, I selected a long, lovely strapless gown, modest and covered, the exact opposite of what I should wear tonight.

"Send for a maid. She might find something," I suggested to Halina. She didn't object and went off to fulfill the task. Soon, a young maid with red hair and a face adorned with freckles appeared at the doorway. One of the perks of being the wife of the eldest son of the high lord was that I could avail the castle's services.

"What can I do for you, my lady?" the girl asked.

"Let's begin by saying I need some nightwear from you. You know, to please your lord on the first night," I said with a forced laugh. "Unfortunately, my clothes got misplaced on the way here. Can you help?"

The girl's eyes lit up, and in no time, she returned with several silk dresses and night robes. She spread them out on the bed.

"Is there anything else I can assist you with?" I wondered, eyeing the dresses. Each one seemed more beautiful than the last. The first was a soft ivory shade with leaf and tree branch embroidery, the second a gold with a generous thigh slit. Yet, it was the last that drew my attention—a rich, deep purple robe cinched at the waist, paired with a delicate lace lingerie set.

"No, that's all. Thank you," I replied, dismissing her.

I put on my underwear and tied my gown, letting the lace bra peek out at the neckline, though not enough to create a stir in the hallways. Everything was tasteful yet subtly seductive.

After the maid escorted me to Eris's room, I walked through the corridors a few more times, ensuring I exchanged greetings with everyone. Some of the older courtiers seemed taken aback, but eventually offered polite nods. This palace was a world apart from our home in Velaris. Back there, it was all about family; here, it was grand and impersonal. Eventually, I found myself standing outside Eris's door. I knocked.

The door swung open, revealing Eris in loose pants and an unbuttoned shirt, revealing his well-defined chest adorned with a few scars. He quickly scanned the corridor before speaking aloud.

"I've been waiting for you, sweetheart," he declared.

I jumped into the act, continuing the charade. "Oh, my love!" I exclaimed, draping myself over him and offering the most insincere smile I could muster. Eris grunted in annoyance, swiftly disentangling himself from my embrace and stepping into the room.

That will be such a lovely night I thought.

I'm starting a Taglist, if you want to add, let me know!

@thelov3lybookworm

[baileypie-writes]

(checks your masterlist) Aha, so you're writing romantic stuff about Cure Flamingo! (if no, then sorry) How about fluffy oneshot of Asuka reacting on her Male S/O confesses his feelings through the firework?

A/N ~ Sure! And yes, I do write romantic fics for Asuka, as she’s 15:) Hope you enjoy!

~Hot to Cool~

Asuka Takizawa/Cure Flamingo x Male!Reader

~~~🦩~~~🦩~~~🦩~~~

Fandom: Tropical-Rouge! Precure

Fanfic Type: Oneshot

Reader: Male

Relationship: Platonic to Romantic

Genre: Fluff

Rating: PG

Synopsis: You and the Tropical Club were going to watch a firework show. And you wanted to use the opportunity to confess your love to the coolest girl you know, Asuka.

Warnings: Me being unable to write a non-cringey confession scene

~Masterlists~

~Tropical-Rouge! Precure Masterlist~

~~~🦩~~~🦩~~~🦩~~~

Today was hot.

And for Aozora City, it’s pretty much always hot. But today, it was hot hot. After all, it was summer. So while you tried to enjoy your time out with your friends, all you could think about was possibly dying from heat stroke.

By now, you were wishing that you and your friends had bought ice cream instead of tropical melon bread earlier. You were so miserable, that you weren’t paying attention to the words of concern from Asuka.

“(name)!”

A sudden slap on the back brought you back down to earth. “Huh?”

“I was asking if you’re okay. You don’t look good at all.” She said.

“Oh, haha. Yeah, I’m kinda not okay. I’m so hot.” You wiped beads of sweat from your brows.

“Yeah, me too. But you look like you’re really dying.” She laughed. She then handed you a water bottle. “Here.”

“Oh, hallelujah. Thank you.” You said dramatically. You took the bottle, and opened it. It hadn’t been open before, so the cap unscrewed with a satisfying crack. After that, you wasted no time chugging down the refreshing, cold goodness.

“Woah, slow down! You’ll choke or something!” Asuka warned. But you didn’t stop. Thankfully though, you turned out fine. When you were done, half the bottle was gone.

“Hah, sorry. I kinda drank most of it.” You said, handing it back to her.

“It’s fine. At least now I know you’re not gonna die.” She playfully elbowed you in the shoulder.

You laughed, and a blush spread across your cheeks. But it was probably hard to tell, since your face was already so red from the heat. You had developed a bit of a crush on Asuka, so her playful gesture made you flustered. Actually, any major attention from her made you feel flustered. How could it not? She was so cool and tough! Those were some of the things that drew you to her in the first place.

“C’mon guys! You’re falling behind!” Laura called in an annoyed tone, snapping you out of your thoughts.

Asuka groaned. “Let’s go. Before the mermaid starts whining even more.”

You just laughed, and picked up the pace alongside her.

~~~~

All of you had finally made it to your destination: a nice hill overlooking the beach. It would be great view for the fireworks, which you had forgotten about for a while now, due to the heat.

There was a big tree which casted a large bit of shade that fit all of you under it. You basically bolted to it, desperate for an escape from the sun’s unmerciful rays. The moment you flopped down onto the grass, you let out a big sigh of relief. It was pleasantly cool. Most of your friends laughed, but you couldn’t care less.

“Ugh, make some room for the rest of us, (name).” Laura scoffed.

You groaned a bit, before sitting up, and doing as “her majesty” commanded. Everybody sat down, and to your luck, Asuka chose the spot next to you. With nobody on your other side, you took note of this opportunity.

You thought that if you were feeling brave enough, you would confess to Asuka during the fireworks. You’ve wanted to many times before, but you just felt so intimidated by her coolness. And you also didn’t want to ruin your friendship, especially since you’re now part of the Tropical Club. But you decided that you should just suck it up, and go for it!

But not yet.

The sun finally started to set, painting the sky many colors. All of your friends oohed and awed, while you and Asuka just admired it in silence.

“The fireworks haven’t even started yet, and the sky is already beautiful.” You said.

“Yeah.” Asuka agreed.

It was so peaceful. You could hear the wind, along with the cries of cicadas. And they never seemed to get quieter, even as the night settled in. Though not long later, a loud boom covered their sounds.

“Look! The fireworks are starting!” Manatsu yelled, pointing at the sky.

Everybody looked in the direction of her finger. You could only see the remaining sparks. But just a moment later, a big burst of color exploded into the sky, another loud boom accompanying it.

Everybody started verbally admiring the pretty lights as more and more lit up. You really did have the best spot in the house. Nothing blocked the view, so you could see everything perfectly. This really was the best chance you could ask for.

Glancing at Asuka, you could see the reflections of the fireworks in her eyes. You had to stop yourself from staring, and get to the point. “Hey, Asuka.” You called. But due to the booms, she couldn’t hear. “Asuka!” You tried again, louder this time.

Your words reached her, so she turned to face you. “Yeah?” She said loudly, so you too could hear.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure. What is it?” Her face displayed a cool, unbothered expression.

“Do you wanna go out with me?” You asked, keeping eye contact. A particularly large and loud firework went off. You could see its glow from the corner of your eye.

Asuka’s eyes widened a bit, and her brown raised. “Wow. I didn’t expect you to ask me so soon.”

You were confused. That was definitely not the answer you were expecting. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“I mean, I thought it was gonna be a while longer before you asked me out.”

“Wait.” You realized. “You knew I liked you this whole time?”

“Well, yeah. It wasn’t hard to notice.” She chuckled, and elbowed you for the second time that day.

“Wow.” You blushed, but thankfully it was dark enough outside to hide it.

Before an awkward silence could creep in, Asuka said something else. “Oh yeah, I didn’t answer your question. Anyway, yes.”

“Oh, really?” Your eyes lit up with joy.

“Yeah. I like you too. You’re a really cool guy.” She smiled. You felt her hand move closer to yours on the grass, just barely touching your pinky finger.

You laughed. “Please,” You placed your hand on top of hers. “no one is cooler than you, Asuka.”

She laughed too, and intertwined her fingers with yours. “How about this? We’re both cool.”

“Eh, fine with me.” You said. The two of you turned back to the firework show, almost having forgotten about it. At that point, Manatsu was standing, cheering almost as if the fireworks were actual performers. Sango, Minori and Laura sat a bit in front of you. No one seemed to hear or notice what had just happened, which you were glad about. Though, you knew you had to tell them soon.

But it wouldn’t be too bad. After all, once the word gets out, you and Asuka would be known as the coolest couple in school. In fact, the two of you were so cool, that the days heat didn’t seem to affect you anymore.

~~~🦩~~~🦩~~~🦩~~~

~~baileypie-writes

[mrsmaybank]

Crushing - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

“Reid, stop giving JJ’s intern bedroom eyes. It fuckin’ weirds me out.”

A/N: I love baby genius, season one Reid so much. I wanted to give him a soulmate. Soulmate is you: shy and also a baby genius. Okay, thanks for reading. This was honestly just for me. 

CW: Implied Smut, Mild Cursing, shitty writing 

“Who...Who is that?” Dr. Spencer Reid, debatably the wordiest boy Derek Morgan had ever met, was suddenly at a loss for words. Maybe it was your perfectly sculpted face, your shoes, the copy of The Kreutzer Sonata held to your chest, your chest, or maybe a mix of it all.  Whatever it was, at sight of you walking through the office doors, he was stripped of his ability to speak. 

“That’s JJ’s new intern.” Morgan said plainly, before noticing the completely enamored look on his friend’s face. “What, pretty boy?” Reid couldn’t even be bothered to reply. He was too busy studying every detail of your frame. 

“You think she’s cute or something kid?” Morgan playfully jabbed his shoulder, Spencer’s face instantly flushing an embarrassing shade of red. 

“What?!” He shrieked, “I-no! That’s not..No!” That’s a lie. 

“I just..I didn’t know JJ was getting an intern.” That though, was true. 

“She’s supposed to be pretty impressive. Let’s go meet her.” he started in the direction of the coffee stand, where you and JJ had begun chatting. Before Spencer could protest out of his shyness, he was being dragged along. 

“Morgan,” JJ smiled, “Spence,” she nodded in his direction, “This is Y/N Y/L/N. My godsent savior.” JJ beamed in your direction.

You smiled more sheepishly then you would’ve liked, muttering a “Hopefully.” that got a laugh from Morgan and a “Oh, please.” from JJ, but nothing from the man in the glasses. You did your best not to read into it. 

“Derek Morgan.” the muscular agent extended his hand to shake yours, an offer you timidly but happily accepted. 

The taller, lankier, younger, incredibly cute man next to him stuffed one of his hands in his pocket and shifted uncomfortably with a small wave, “I’m uh, Doctor Spencer Reid, oh! Uh, you don’t have to, uh call me Doctor. No..” He shook his head, “Just Spencer is fine.” He looked at you with wide eyes that sent butterflies berserk in your stomach and swiped his tongue in between his lips that only made them go crazier. JJ had told you all about the team. About the magnificently brilliant Dr. Spencer Reid, his 3 PhDs and eidetic memory, and all the other quirks you’d have to know in order to work with him, but had failed to mention how utterly hot he was. You felt a crush hijacking your system already. Dear god. 

“It’s nice to meet you both.” Your hands gripped your book tighter as you shifted onto your tiptoes, “I’ve heard really exceptional things.” 

The conversation was set to continue, but Morgan and JJ were summoned by Hotch to the closed doors of his office. Leaving the resident genius and you starting at each other with tight lip smiles. 

Spencer started first, “The Kreutzer Sonata is great.” He excitedly continued, “It uh, it actually used to be a pretty bold book to carry around. After the work had been forbidden in Russia by censors, there was actually a mimeographed version that was widely circulated. Then in 1890, the United States Post Office Department prohibited the mailing of newspapers containing serialized installments of it too. Theodore Roosevelt even called Tolstoy a-” 

His enthusiasm was beyond endearing. You finished for him with a soft smile, "Sexual moral pervert.”

Spencer’s lips upturned in a smile. It was rare somebody in the office could finish his sentences. And he couldn’t help but replay the crass words being said in your soft voice. He felt a crush hijacking his system already. Dear god.  

“Most people don’t recognize it in the original Russian.”  Spencer heard you say. 

“Most people probably wouldn’t recognize it in English.” he retorted.

You laughed, “Yeah, you’re right.” 

Spencer wasn’t even kidding. “I’m not joking.” He shook his head. “It’s unfortunate how many people aren’t even vaguely familiar with Tolstoy.” 

“It is.” you agreed. “You went to Caltech, correct?” 

He smiled, “Yes.” 

“I almost did too. Decided last minute on Columbia.” 

“You went to Columbia?” he asked. 

“I just graduated.” 

“How old are you?” he asked before quickly correcting himself,  “I’m sorry! That was forward! I am not...I’m not trying to undermine your studies with your age, I promise. I’m just curious.” 

“No! It’s okay!” You got out fast. “I’m 19. I graduated high school a little bit early.” 

“Me too.” He smiled. “12, actually.” 

Your eyes went wide, “12?” 

“Yes, um, in a Las Vegas public high school.” He winced, but the self-deprecation somehow came out charming, “I uh,” His eyes narrowed, “didn’t go to a lot of parties.” 

That made you wholeheartedly laugh. “Me neither! I graduated at 15, which you know is the age everybody else starts. It created a really weird dynamic because the older kids in my grade didn’t like me, but the underclassmen my age really didn’t like me.” 

Instead of the laugh you were expecting, Spencer just gave you a pensive stare. 

“Um..I can’t see why. I think you’re very likeable.” The compliment would’ve been strange exchanged by anybody other than Spencer to you.

  “Wait till you get to know me.” You said it through a smile but so softly you were afraid he might not be able to hear it, but he did. 

And that was confirmed when he flashed you the most incredible, toothy grin you’d ever seen. “I uh, I doubt there will be any change in opinion.” 

“Well, um, I’m sure- I think! You’re very likeable as well Dr. Reid.” you said. 

“That’s what you say now.” He retorted in the same coy tone you had earlier. 

You shook your head, “You’ll find I can be insufferably stubborn.” 

-----------------------------------

After two weeks, there was little Spencer could do to hide his massive crush affinity for you from the team. 

In the bullpen: 

You guys had locked eyes and were mouthing out exchanged of No’s and Yes’s from across the room. There was an ongoing half-serious dispute about whether or not Xanthippe slept with Plato. 

Morgan glided in his wheeled chair to whisper into Spencer’s ear. 

“Reid, stop giving JJ’s intern bedroom eyes. It fuckin’ weirds me out.” He said, shoving files into the cabinet below Reid’s desk. 

“I’m..I’m not.. I--what? Bedr--No!” Reid whisper-shouted back. 

On the jet: 

“Reid?” Gideon called Spencer, “Chess?” He motioned towards the board. 

“Yes, sure. Just give me a second. I’m almost done. I’m reading Infinite Jest. I don’t usually enjoy literature if it isn’t classic, even less so if it’s American. But..” Spencer smiled, “Y/N likes the author.”  He continued his fast-paced reading of the third-to-last chapter of the book. 

Morgan and Gideon exchanged glances. 

Even in front of you: 

You opened a sugar packet and began stirring. 

“De Revolutionibus Orbium Coelestium is still some of the best work on  heliocentric theory out there, I think. Copernicus knew what he was talking about!” You spun on your heels to see Reid’s face contorted in disagreement. You giggled, “Don’t give me that face! I’m right!” 

He took a sip of his coffee as to keep himself quiet. “Listen, cosmological theory is for…” 

But the pair of you were interrupted, it was Elle, standing behind you and in front of Spencer. 

“New skirt?” Elle asked as you turned, back now facing Reid.  She was pouring herself a cup of coffee too.

“Yes!” You excitedly nodded. “You like it?” 

Elle looked up and down, but not at you. The judgmental eyes were for the man behind you. She pursed her lips, “Not just me.” 

The only face redder than yours was Reid’s.

-----------------------------------

Nights spent in a bar after a case that had dragged on far too long was nothing new, but the energy tonight was especially light. Gideon had refused, but everybody else was just relaxed, even Hotch, and the team just got happier at each other's happiness. It was great, really. As Hotch and Morgan sipped on whiskey, JJ and Penelope had already downed four sugary, colorful cocktails and were in a whispered fit of giggles. Elle and Spencer settled on a tamer option of an IPA Spencer couldn’t name. 

“SPENCER!” Penelope excitedly shouted, “Y/N is literally you! You’re both adorable! You’re both geniuses! You’re both young!” She drew on her rant, “And if you have a crush on her you should just tell her!” JJ’s eyes widened in embarrassment as she tried to cover Penelope’s mouth. 

Morgan and Elle erupted in soft laughter while Hotch cracked an uncharacteristically amused smile. 

“Spence, I swear, I didn’t say that! I just...I may have mentioned how happy you get every time she’s around! And how you guys can talk for literally hours!” JJ defended, her words slurring in silly drunkenness. 

Spencer rolled his eyes. This wasn’t the first time they teased him about you, and it probably wouldn’t be the last time either. 

“I don’t have a crush on her! We just….we like the same things! It gives us a lot to talk about.” 

“Yeah?” Morgan said through a laugh, “And what is it that boy and girl wonder talk about so much?” 

“Well, uh.. a lot of things. But I find she gets the most excited when we are discussing the theories of postmodernism, in that apparent realities are actually just social constructs and veritable realities are subject to change, and uh... we like to talk about linguistics….political philosophy….history... mathematic theory...and uh, oh! Doctor Who.” 

Spencer was blushing and spoke about you like a teenage girl did their boyband crush, and the team noticed. They didn’t even need to say it out loud. Spencer gathered from the way they looked back at him. 

“I heard she lent you a book too, Reid.” Hotch said before taking a sip from his glass. 

“Yes! She did!” He smiled, “It was her copy of Pale Fire. She has an impressive collection of 19th century Russian literature. All in its original dialect! Some of it’s even annotated, which usually would annoy me but since it’s her thoughts and notes I sort of find it endearing.” 

“Dr. Reid is endeared!” Greenaway shrieked.

“Yeah,” he nodded, pushing his glasses up a little higher on his nose, “I find her incredibly endearing.” 

“Y’all that sounded like a dorky love confession.” Morgan said as the team erupted in laughter and Reid’s head fell in a smile. There was no point in denying it anymore: He really, really liked you.

--------------------------------------

Within two months, you and Spencer had finally put your shyness aside, and spent a very lovely evening at watching an orchestra at the Smithsonian Music,  and sharing noodles at your favorite Thai restaurant. And then you guys spent some time on your couch. And then in your bed. And then in the shower. And then in the kitchen. You were both very sexually frustrated. 

For the following two months, as soon as you both stepped out of the office, it was very, very hard to keep your hands off each other. Could either of you help it though? Teenage geniuses don’t experience parties, or football games, or clumsy sex. The time was perfect to make up for it. 

And you guys did. The sex part at least. “Football involves a lot of dirt. And germs. And sweat.”

“Oh my god!” you shrieked. His hands were in a place they found themselves more and more often: Your pants. 

“Does it feel good?” he asked, continuing his pattern of small circles on that particular bundle of nerves. 

“It feels great.” You nodded. 

“I uh, I’ve been researching the female anatomy.” 

You closed your eyes and nodded your head, but trying to focus on your boyfriends newfound intellect. “It’s fascinating, isn’t it?” 

He watched your undoing with boyish adoration and curiosity before swallowing, “Very.” 

“Oh fuck!” Your legs began to shake, “Spencee...I’m gonn--” 

--------------------------------------------

You and Spencer just understood each other. 

[dreamerstreamer]

Lucky Catch

Pairing: Dream / Clay x gn!reader

Summary: Being lucky has never been your forte, but a chance encounter with a stranger starts making you think otherwise.

Word Count: 3.0k

Warnings: mentions of being followed/creep behaviour (stay safe!)

A/N: inspired by a scary incident i had a while back (but i’m a-okay) that i thought i could spin into something happier!! i hope you guys like this little tid-bit :)

I must be the unluckiest person in the world, you thought to yourself as you turned another corner on the block.

Above you, the sky had only just begun to turn a pale shade of pretty pink, lavender seeping into the shadows of the clouds. The sun was slowly dipping closer and closer toward the horizon, and with each passing second, the footsteps following you grew a fraction louder—drew a fraction closer. Your heart tightened uncomfortably in your chest, your blood rushing through your ears.

Of all the people who could have been followed by some inevitable creep, you just had to be one of them.

The city was still as loud as ever around you, the streets full of bustling cars driven by tired people making their way home after rush hour just like you. At first, you didn’t believe someone was following you—after all, it wasn’t like you were the only person walking down the street. But the farther you walked, the closer the steps drew, and each time you snuck a glance over your shoulder, you caught the same face peeking back at you through the crowd.

You felt sick.

Your head spun with a million hazy thoughts, your brain just barely managing to piece together a plan with your pounding chest. Should I run home? You chewed on your lip. No, I don’t want them finding out where I live. What would my roommate do? I have my keys on me, but I don’t know if I could throw someone off me. I can try to disappear into the crowd.

You could feel a bead of sweat form on the back of your neck as you picked up the pace, the footsteps behind you following suit. Anxiety lapped at the pit of your stomach, fear crawling up the hollow of your throat and squeezing like a vice.

What do I do?

Up ahead of you, you could see the people filling the sidewalk start to die down a little, and your heart sank. Well, there went that plan.

But just then, a tall figure stepped out into the path a few feet ahead of you, and you felt a pair of eyes lock onto yours. Emerald green bore straight into you, and you blinked.

The man standing in front of you was tall, almost overwhelmingly so, his dirty blond hair gently tousled by the warm, summer breeze. Donning a simple lime hoodie, you watched with rapt attention as his gaze darted behind you, his eyes flashing before meeting yours once more. Although he didn’t utter a single word, it almost felt like he read your mind.

Do you need help?

Swallowing thickly, you nodded your head as subtly as you could, praying that the desperation was clear enough on your face for him to read.

Please.

In an instant, his pursed lips melted into an easygoing smile, and he opened his arms up in front of you. Recognition clicked in your head, and you suddenly began sprinting towards him. Sucking in a deep breath, you felt your heart do a nervous flip as you leapt toward him, your arms outstretched.

In one fell swoop, his arms were wrapped around your torso, catching you in a swift hold before pressing you close to his chest. You sank into his warmth, letting your shoulders go slack. The soft smell of pine filled your senses as you felt him spin your around once, a chuckle rumbling through his chest.

“Hey, there,” he said, and you were shocked by just how kind his voice sounded, “did you miss me?”

Leaning back, you gazed up at him with a look of wonder. God, he really was pretty up close, and you did your best to plaster a smile to your face and nod. “Did I keep you waiting for long?” you managed to warble, playing along the best you could.

The stranger shook his head at you, ducking down to press his lips to your forehead. Heat flooded your chest at the feeling, and your heart swelled.

“Not at all,” he murmured against your skin.

When he pulled back, you watched as his eyes flickered over your shoulder, his fingers still protectively curled around your waist. A moment passed with his hands still pressed against you, and then he let out a breath, his grip loosening.

“They’re gone,” he said simply, and you let yourself practically crumple with relief.

“Oh, thank god,” you breathed, stepping back with a grateful grin. You already felt the weight lifted off your shoulders, but an apologetic smile danced on your lips. “I am so sorry about this. I don’t know when they started following me, and I just didn’t know what to do—“

He sent you a crooked grin, and you felt your stomach churn with butterflies. “Don’t worry about it, really.” His eyes narrowed almost dangerously. “I saw them trailing after you, and I couldn’t just let them follow you home like that.”

Your entire front felt like it was on fire. Even though you were just a stranger to him, he was so kind, and the very thought made your gut erupt with butterflies.

“Thank you so much. You really saved me there…”

You trailed off when you realized you didn’t even know his name. How could it feel so natural to be in the arms of someone whose name you didn’t even know?

“Clay,” he suddenly said, his eyes snapping back to yours. Your soul burned with want. “The name’s Clay.”

You nodded your head, half-feeling like a broken bobblehead. “Thank you, Clay.” You reached your hand out toward him with a lopsided smile. “I definitely did this in the wrong order, but I’m [Y/N].”

The laugh that tumbled from Clay’s lips sounded like straight music to your ears. I could listen to him laugh forever, you thought distantly. Reaching over, he gripped your hand in his, shaking it warmly with a smile. Your fingers wanted to stay wrapped around his forever.

“It’s nice to meet you, [Y/N], and I’m glad I was able to help you out.” His eyes darted down to the watch on his wrist, and he raised a brow at you. “Did you possibly have somewhere you needed to be, by the way? I’d hate to keep you here.”

Your eyes shot wide open. “Oh gosh, my roommate is probably worried sick about me. I promised them I’d be back by now.”

His fingers twitched around yours for a moment, almost like he didn’t want to let go. But then, his hand was dropping away from yours as he sent you a fond, melancholic look. “Try to stay safe on your way back, yeah?”

You nodded, giving him another appreciative look. “I’ll do my best.” Rushing ahead of him, you waved over your shoulder. “Thanks so much, again!”

Clay waved back at you as you darted down the street toward your apartment, but as you tore you eyes away from him, you couldn’t help but feel your heart sink. You had only just opened the front door to your apartment when another realization struck you.

Crap—I should have asked for his number.

Even as your roommate shook you by the shoulders back and forth, concern etched onto her features as she began to interrogate you, all you could think about was the warmth of Clay’s arms circled around you and the tinkling sound of his laughter.

You really were the unluckiest person in the world.

“[Y/N], don’t lose me!”

You can only barely make out the sound of your roommate’s voice as you squeeze your way through the crowd. Why you agreed to come with her to such a busy event, you still don’t know. You hardly even knew what it was the event was about. Something about meeting a popular YouTuber? You could hardly remember, now.

“This is, like, the biggest event in the history of YouTube, ever!” she had yelled at you. “You have to come with me.”

And like the good roommate you were, you had agreed, but mostly just because she told you that there would be free food.

But now, a day and a half later, and there was no food to be seen—especially not the free kind. Instead, all you could see was an ocean of people, and you were absolutely positive you were drowning in them.

I’m hungry, you internally whined. Your stomach growled, and you rubbed your hand over your frontside with a muffled moan. This was a mistake.

Even as your stomach growled, you tried to focus your attention on the situation at hand. Biting back a groan, your fingers squeezed at your stomach—being hungry wasn’t the important part, now. What was important was that you had somehow managed to get pushed ahead of your roommate from within the throng of people packed into the massive atrium.

“At least try to stay with me, will you?” you grunted over the horde of people around you. You narrowly dodged an elbow being pressed into your face, blindly reaching your hand behind you toward where your roommate had been just a moment prior. “I don’t want to have to go looking for you later.”

As soon as your fingertips brushed against warm skin, you quickly latched your hand into the one you had just brushed up against, holding on as tightly as you could manage before tugging. “Follow me—I’m getting us out of here.”

There was no resistance behind you as you began walking forward, pushing your way through the crowd toward what you could only hope was the edge of the room. Why was everybody pushing towards the stage, anyways? Was there supposed to be someone important up there?

With a few more tugs forward and the occasional apology spilling from your lips, you found yourself bursting out from the crowd and into an open space, your shoulders sinking with relief at the lack of people pressing in against you. You grinned as you straightened, squeezing your roommate’s hand in yours. Was her hand always this big and warm?

“We made it,” you breathed, turning. “Can we get something to eat, no—”

The words died in your mouth as you looked up into the emerald green eyes gazing back at you.

Oh no. This wasn’t your roommate.

“Um, hi,” he said, offering you a lopsided smile. “Fancy meeting you here, [Y/N].”

Your eyes felt like they were about to bulge out of your head.

“Clay?” you blurted.

His grin only grew wider. “That’s me.”

Your gaze darted down to your connected hands, his fingers wrapped around yours warmly. Immediately, you stumbled back, looking and feeling like an absolute blubbering mess.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry. I was here with my roommate, and I thought you were her.” You sheepishly peeled your eyes away from him, your face growing hot with embarrassment. “I swear I don’t do this kind of thing on the regular.”

He barked out a laugh, and your insides felt fuzzy. You didn’t want to admit how much you missed hearing that laugh.

“I was gonna say,” he said, cocking a teasing brow at you, “both of our meetings have been pretty forward of you.”

You buried your face in your hands, letting out an embarrassed whine. “Do not remind me. I can’t believe I got you roped into my shenanigans, again.”

You felt a hand gently pat your shoulder, and you peeked out from between your fingers to see him smiling kindly at you. “It’s no biggie, really. I wouldn’t mind meeting you like this more often, or just in general.”

Your jaw dropped. “Really?”

He nodded. “Really.” Slipping his hand into his pocket, you watched in awe as he fished out his phone and held it out to you. “Here, give me your number. I’d love to take you out sometime.” He glanced up at you, looking almost shy. “Maybe we can even grab a bite to eat after this?”

Your heart skipped a beat. Was he for real? Was someone this handsome and this sweet really asking you out?

It looked like your luck had turned around, for once.

Gingerly taking his phone from his hands, you nodded. “That sounds nice.”

As you began entering your contact information, you felt Clay fidget next to you. “You said you came here with your roommate?” he prompted after a moment.

Your lips quirked. “Yeah—she begged me to come with her today. I kind of forgot who she wanted to see, though.” Your brows knitted together. “I think she said something about a face reveal?”

Next to you, Clay had gone oddly still for a moment, but as soon as you were handing his phone back to him, he brightened, a smile tugging on his lips. “Ah, so she’s a fan and you’re here to accompany her?”

You nodded. “Yep! But I don’t regret coming, since I…” You gulped, your face growing warm once more. “Since I got to see you.”

You could have sworn you caught a dust of pink colouring Clay’s cheeks when all of a sudden, a familiar face popped out from the crowd.

“[Y/N]! There you are!”

Before you could even blink, your roommate was barrelling into your side, her arms clutching tightly onto you. “Where did you go?” she whined into your hair. “I thought I had lost you.”

In front of you, you watched as Clay tried to stifle a laugh, and you gently pried her off your arm as you let out an awkward laugh. “This is what you get for bringing me to such a busy place and not even trying to stick with me.”

She sent you an apologetic look. “Sorry. I just got so caught up in the rush.” Glancing over to her side, she blinked in surprise. “Oh, was I interrupting something?”

You opened your mouth to reply, but Clay spoke first. “Ah, no. I actually have to get going in a second.”

Your face wilted. He had to go?

His eyes met yours once more, and he must have sensed your sadness, because not even a second later, he was gently smiling at you.

“But I promise I’ll text you right after.”

Just like that, and you had brightened again. Waving at you, he slipped toward the side of the stage, opening a door that presumably led somewhere backstage. Oh, you thought, maybe he’s working here for the event.

You were pulled away from your staring by your roommate’s tugging at your arm. “[Y/N], who was that? He‘s cute.”

You felt your stomach twist again, but this time, not out of hunger. “You remember the guy I told you saved me from that creep?”

Her eyes widened. “That was him? You didn’t tell me he was so good-looking!” You laughed at the way her grip on your arm tightened. “Did you give him your number? What’s his name?”

“Yes, actually,” you hummed, puffing your chest up in pride, “and his name’s Clay.” Your head spun with dizzy, pink affection. “He’s really sweet.”

Your roommate fell quiet beside you, her fingers suddenly going slack against you. At her silence, you turned to shoot her a confused look. “Did I say something wrong?”

Her face was pale, her eyes as wide as saucers as she blinked blankly. “Y-You said his name was Clay?” she croaked, sounding like she was forcing the words out.

You raised a brow at her. “Uh, yes? Are you oka—”

You didn’t get the chance to finish your sentence when the lights in the atrium suddenly grew dim and the room erupted into screams. A single spotlight shone on the front stage, and you watched a brunet man stepped out from behind the crimson red curtains.

“Thank you for your patience, everyone!” he called into his mic, his British accent echoing loudly through the speakers scattered across the room. “It’s been years in the making, but are you all finally ready to meet the world’s most popular Minecraft content creator face-to-face—to finally see the one and only Dream in the flesh?”

The crowd’s screams grew even louder, and you furrowed your brows. Dream? You felt like you recognized that name, but from where, you didn’t have a clue.

You peeked over at your roommate, who was still as pale as a sheet. You were surprised that she wasn’t screaming her own head off. “Aren’t you excited?” you whispered. “Isn’t this the guy you wanted to see?”

She stood stock still, her eyes still trained on the stage with frozen, unwavering attention.

“I already have,” she whispered, sounding absolutely star-struck.

What?

The man on stage smiled at just how loud the audience had grown, and he stepped to the side. “You all certainly sound excited.” Gesturing to the curtains, he dipped into a dramatic bow. “Then, without further ado, here he is!”

In a flash, the spotlight almost seemed to glow even brighter, and the curtains flew to the side. Out stepped a tall, blond man with the most dazzling grin you’d ever seen.

A grin you’d seen twice, now.

All of a sudden, all the pieces suddenly fell into place as Clay took a step forward, waving at the masses. The screams of the crowd had grown to become absolutely deafening, and despite their overwhelming volume, it felt almost like you could hardly hear them at all.

Oh, you thought, the realization sinking deep into your bones. Oh.

So that was why your roommate was absolutely losing her mind, gaping at the stage with nothing short of pure amazement. That was why Clay had seemed so surprised when you told him you didn’t know who this event was even about.

On the stage, Clay’s emerald eyes swept across the audience before landing on you. He must have caught the surprised look on your face, because a split second later, he was sending you a knowing wink from across the room. Someone in the audience screamed at the sight, and you couldn’t stop yourself from winking back, your heart doing a somersault between your lungs.

Maybe you really were luckier than you thought.

[buckys-black-dress]

inked

a/n: here she is!!! while i work on afl, here is my crackfic on tattoo artist bucky!! if u haven’t caught on yet, most of my writing is au’s because of all the possibilites in terms of scenarios and storylines. anyways, i hope you enjoy, lovies!!! xoxo, ali <3

wc: 2.8k 

[tattoo artist!bucky x fem!reader]

-

It was like an addiction. 

Your first tattoo you got was simple. It was a dainty, small one on your wrist.

But now, it was slowly developing into a sleeve.

Not that you minded, though. Your forearm was slowly becoming filled with designs that you kept going back and getting here and there.

And at the tattoo parlor near your apartment in Brooklyn, you had become a regular at this point.

It was called B&R Tattoo Shop, and it was run by two of the kindest, but most attractive men you’ve ever met. 

You’ve come to find out after getting to know the owners, that they opened the shop a bit after they returned from their second tour in the army and wanted to settle back in their hometown.  

Steve and James were hospitable to you, especially when they first met you. Steve was the one to meet you and speak with you at first, but he handed you off to James, or Bucky as he asked you to call him, because he was the artist at their shop that specialized in more of what you were looking for in terms of style. 

As far as first tattoo conversations go, you and Bucky got to know each other pretty well in one session. The tattoo itself took less than an hour, but it felt like Bucky was... prolonging it in a way, like he wanted to keep you there longer.

As you swung open the door of the shop, you were greeted by their piercer, Natasha. 

“Hey, back for another already?” She smirks from her spot behind the desk. While she wasn’t piercing, she usually worked the front if there was no one else free.

Your first tattoo had been done by Bucky, and you instantly fell in love.

With the tattoo. 

Well, Bucky too. Just a little bit.

He was extremely soothing and eased you into the process of tattooing you. He told you when something was going to happen, and as soon as you got used to the feeling of the needle against your skin. 

The more he talked to you, the less pain you felt. It was already not that painful, but you almost forgot about it with him talking to you. When he looked up to you as he finished, you looked like a confused puppy.

“Okay, all done, doll.” Bucky looked up at you, moving to turn off his machine.

“Oh... that was fast.” You furrowed your brows.

“Well, yeah, we moved pretty fast since it was a pretty small piece.” He explains, grabbing a paper towel and the anti-bacterial spray.

“Do you mind if I take a quick picture of it? I usually do, for my portfolio.” Bucky asks, inspecting the tattoo closely once again.

“Oh, yeah, that’s fine.” You wait for him to pull out his camera, take the picture, and he comes back with a piece of plastic film in his hand.

“Okay, so this saniderm has to stay on for about three days. This is how it’ll heal, and when you take it off just wash it up with a gentle soap and use a cream without any fragrance or any of that crap. I can give you a little of that spray if you wanna use it to clean it up if you ever feel like it’s dirty.” Bucky explains, giving you a mini bottle of the antibacterial spray.

“Thank you,” you say, moving to sit up in the chair. “How much do I owe you?”

“Uh, just about $40.” Bucky says without eye contact, heading to the computer at the front counter.

“$40? That’s it? When I signed the waiver it said the shop minimum was $75...?” You wonder out loud.

“Let’s just say you get a special discount, doll.” He smirks, typing something into the computer and only sparing you a glance.

“O-Oh. Alright.” You say sheepishly, handing him your credit card.

“Okay, you’re all set. Hopefully I’ll see you again soon.” He tells you with a gentle smile. It really contrasted his aura; a big, beefy guy with a metal prosthetic arm, covered in probably hundreds of tattoos. But here he was, smiling like sunshine.

“I think I will be. Have a nice day, Bucky.” 

“You too, sweetheart.” He gives you that smirk again, making you feel like you might actually pass out. And not because you just had a needle jabbed into your skin for almost an hour.

“Uh, I already talked to Bucky for my session today. I know I’m a bit early, I can wait if he’s still working on someone else.” You tell Natasha with a smile.

“Sure, let me get you your waiver.” She says, and you plop down into one of the chairs at the front and pulling out your book to pass time after filling out the form.

After a few minutes, Bucky emerges with a girl from his little tattooing corner.

You hear his voice first, looking up from the book while he talks to her.

“Okay, since this was your first piece and pretty small, I’ll only charge ya $55 for it, doll.” Bucky tells the girl with a smile, and you immediately feel a pang in your chest.

You didn’t want to say you were jealous, but goddamn it, your breathing became just a little more shallow at the sight you were currently witnessing.

Even Natasha and Steve turned their heads to him, confused looks on both of their faces.

“Oh! Y/N, you’re here! C’mon back, I’m sure Nat already set you up with your waiver.” You nod, not saying a word as you follow him to the familiar chair.

“So, are we still doing what we discussed on the phone?” Bucky asks, setting up his area to tattoo you.

“Actually, I was thinking something different.” You say sharply.

“Different?” The shock is evident on his features. 

“Yeah. Different. Just want a little something on my collarbone.” You say, sitting down. 

“O-Okay... what were you thinking of?” He asks, pulling out his sketchbook.

“I want an olive branch, going from here to here.” You show him where you want it to start and end. It was a bit of a stretch right across the left side of your chest. “Something simple and minimal. I’ve been thinking of starting the top of my sleeve, this might be a good way to transition into it.” You say nonchalantly.

“Uhm... alright. How does this look?” Bucky asks, showing you his sketch. “I would, of course, add more detail to your liking, just let me know.” 

“Yeah, I want some more shading, please.” You say shortly. You honestly weren’t trying to be mean, but you were irritated.

But in the end, you really had no right to be. 

After almost ten sessions with Bucky, he hasn’t made any indication that he likes you the way you like him.

Sure, he calls you pet names, but he does that to everyone. Even discounts. You weren’t special. He was just being nice and doing his job.

So honestly, you had to cut the act here.

“Are you sure this is what you want? Are you saving the other design for our next session?” Bucky asks, growing more and more concerned with your odd behavior. Usually you would talk to him about your day, how work was, really anything. 

“I don’t know. I think I might ask Steve to do that one instead.” You say out of spite, more than anything. You would never take a design that Bucky made specially for you to another person to tattoo on you, even if it was his own business partner.

“Wha- Why? Did I do something? You’ve been acting really weird today...” Bucky questions you carefully. “Talk to me, doll. Did you have a bad day at work?”

But that, that right there, was your breaking point. Doll. 

“No, I’m fine. Let’s just get this done.” You huff, laying down after nodding to the sketch that Bucky drew out. 

Bucky’s brows furrowed even further, but didn’t ask any more questions. He laid down the stencil and asked if the placement was alright. You looked in the mirror he handed you and nodded briefly. 

The entire time Bucky had the machine in his hand, neither of you spoke a word. He tried to make brief conversation, but you only responded with a hum or nod. 

When he finally finished up, you got up and headed to the counter without a word after looking at the finished tattoo in the mirror. 

Your face was blank, emotionless, and Bucky was truly lost. 

After you paid the full price of your piece, you walked out of the shop, not even sparing anyone a glance. 

Once you left, the shop was dead silent. Everyone either just finished up with a client or didn’t have any at the moment, and the shop was blanketed in an extremely uncomfortable silence.

“What the hell was that, man?” Sam’s voice broke the silence, making Bucky’s head snap towards him. 

“I-I... I have no idea. She was acting so...so weird today.” Bucky looked more confused than ever.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Natasha’s voice cuts through the palpable silence.

“Wh- What the hell did I do? I asked her too, and she didn’t give me an answer...” Bucky mumbles.

“Do you like her?” She fires back with a fire in her eyes.

“W-Well, yeah. She’s a regular.” Bucky answers, looking at his fiddling hands.

“Not like that, you dunce. You know what I mean, don’t act dumb.” Natasha rolls her eyes.

Bucky sighs, not making eye contact yet again.

“I-... I do like her.” He says. “But I don’t think she feels the same.” 

“Jesus fucking Christ... You really are a dumbass.” Sam sighs out.

Steve snorts at his words, nodding in agreement.

“Buck, she got jealous.” He explains, shaking his head at his best friend’s obliviousness.

“J-Jealous? Of what?” Bucky scoffs in shock.

“That girl you had right before her. Gave her a discount, called her pet names. The whole shabang.” Natasha points out to him. “Also, you gotta stop giving out discounts like that. You’ll lose more money than you’re makin’.” Natasha scoffs. 

“Wh- But... She never said anything...?” Bucky thinks back to all the times you’ve sat in his chair. You never made any indication that you were outwardly interested in him.

“I think she said enough today without actually saying much.” Steve laughs. His friend was a real idiot.

“I... But, why didn’t she say anything before?” Bucky asked.

“Buck, you never said anything either. I guess that when she heard you talk to that girl like that, she thought you really didn’t like her like that at all. You treated that girl the same way you treat her.” Natasha explains to Bucky, who had a look of realization on his face.

“But... I was just... being nice...” He says with his head in his hands. 

“Well, now she thinks you do that with all you clients, so...” Sam says, making the brunet’s head shoot up.

“Fuck. Fuck. I fucked up everything!” He exclaims. “I-I do like her!” 

“Well, don’t tell us that, tell her!” Sam shouts back to him, and before Bucky can process, he’s pulling out his phone and dialing your phone number.

“C’mon, pick up, pick up,” He mumbles repeatedly, but the call goes to voicemail. “Fuck.”

“Not pickin’ up?” Steve questions, coming to the front and picking up the shop phone. “Gimme her number, she’s doesn’t have to shop saved to her phone, right?” 

“No, I don’t think she does.” Bucky says, watching as Steve dials your number.

“Hello?” Your voice sounds annoyed as it filters through the phone. “Who’s this?” 

“Uh, Y/N! Hi!” Steve speaks, looking at Bucky in a panic, his facial expression screaming, ‘talk to her!’ 

“Steve? What’s up?” You ask, wondering what he needed. 

“You uhh... you forgot your book here!” He blurts out, trying to find an excuse, but quickly found one upon seeing your book resting on the seat where you were waiting. 

“O-Oh... I guess I’ll just turn around. I’ll be there in a few. Thanks, Steve.” You say, ready to hang up.

“O-Okay. Bye, Y/N.” He clears his throat, hanging up. “You have like, ten minutes to get your shit together and talk to her when she gets here. Good luck.” Steve pats Bucky on the shoulder, ready to haul Natasha and Sam to the back to give you two some privacy.

Bucky thought that this was the longest ten minutes of his life, and he was trying to conjure up a speech in his head to confess to you.

Finally, when you did appear through the doors, you looked lost. You only saw Bucky, which made you even more aggravated from the fact that you had to turn back around.

You were ready to head home and wallow in peace, but alas, you wanted your book. 

Bucky just watched as you picked up the book from his grasp across the desk, your eyes not meeting his while he kept his gaze on you very intently. 

Just as you turned around to leave, Bucky’s voice cut through the unbearable silence.

“Y/N?” He simply asks, and you feel like the wind’s been knocked out of your lungs at the sound of his small voice. This wasn’t the Bucky you knew and... loved.

“Yes, James?” You simply respond, and Bucky cringes at the sound of his first name being used. 

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

“...Why? Is everything alright?” And although your voice didn’t give it away, you felt your heart drop to your stomach. Any possible scenario popped into your head. He has a girlfriend. He’s gonna tell you he doesn’t wanna see you anymore. He-

“E-Everything’s fine, doll. Just wanted to tell you that... That I...” Bucky’s voice sounded strained, like there was something caught in his throat.

“Bucky, just spit it out.” You say, wanting to leave already.

“It’s just- I like you. A lot. And I’m so sorry for earlier with that other client. I was just trying to be nice, but I realized how that looked to you, and I never thought anything of it because I didn’t know if you liked me back or-” Bucky was rambling, and your eyes were wide as saucers.

“Bucky, Bucky stop. Let me talk before you drive your own head in with conclusions,” you say, resting your hand on top of his on the desk.

“I like you a lot, too. I didn’t think you like me either because of that girl before me. You just- you treated her the same way you treated me, and I got jealous. I know I didn’t have the right to be, but it just made me think that... that you didn’t feel the same way about me, that I was just another client to you. I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions, and also for being kind of a bitch to you...” Now you were the one rambling, your hands flying all over the place in explanation.

“D-Doll, I never wanted to make you feel that way. I’m sorry, too. I should’ve told you before, before I almost blew everything with you that we’ve been building these past months.” He says placing one large tattooed hand and one metal hand on the sides of your face. “But I’m not gonna miss my chance again. Y/N, would you like to go on a date with me?”

“I-I would love to, Bucky. Took you long enough to ask me.” You giggle, holding onto the hands on your face.

“Yeah, well, I’m kind of an idiot, if you haven’t already noticed.” He laughs, gazing into your eyes with a look that almost turned you to mush in his hands. 

“Do... do ya wanna go now?” You ask, nodding your head to the door.

“Sure, let me go grab my jacket from the back.” He tells you, and you nod, watching as he keeps his eyes on you until he disappears to the back.

“My man, who would’ve thought you’d finally man up?” Sam ridicules him as soon as Bucky appears.

“Dude, shut up. I got a date to get to, see you losers later.” He rolls his eyes, moving back out where you’re smiling at him.

“Ready, angel?” Bucky asks, slipping his hand into yours.

“Ready, handsome.” You reply, and as soon as you step out into the fall air, you plant a kiss on his cheek. “Where to, lover boy?”

[workofheart]

proof

with whatever happens from here, our names will last far beyond our years

for my armin angst anon :) thank you for the request, i honestly love angst and write it all the time outside of fanfic so idk why i don’t do it more often!

pairing: armin arlert x reader

wc: 1.5k

genre: angst, fluff (happy end)

a/n: takes place somewhere just before the events of season 4. also, hi guys! this is lowkey word vomit and i’m a bit out of practice so if this doesn’t seem like me, that’s why lol

they say that time heals all wounds, but in your case, time does nothing but prolong the constant sting in your throat. it denies the sinking acceptance your weary heart pleads for. because as long as you have time, you don’t have to face the truth.

so what if you love him? so what if it’s been years? so what if no matter what you do, you can’t let him go? it’s not like it’s going to change any time soon. but even if it did, even if you had the choice to move on, you’re not so sure you would. he’s the last bloom of the season left that you pick out of selfishness, the butterfly you’re blessed to catch yet hate to let go. 

because if not him, who else?

armin is everything. he’s your reflection and your opposite, late nights and early mornings, kind and then cruel across his commitment to morality. he’s there on good days and bad days, with a smile or sympathy. if you’re lucky, you get both.

he’s brutally imperfect, perfectly human, and so easy to love.

but when standing against the end of humanity, there’s no room for childish fantasies like yours.

you love him so bad it hurts. he’s at the forefront of your mind at all times, even when he’s standing right in front of you. you think of him visiting that girl in the basement, day after day, frozen in her cowardly crystal as she hides from retribution. he waits, staring, and she occupies his mind when you desperately wish it could be you. what is it about a criminal that intrigues him past rationality?

yet the worst thought is that one day, you might not feel so strong. 

it’s something keeping you around. it’s something to imagine on nights when the sun hangs in the sky as low as your hope for the future. he’s something to bet on and pin your fleeting dreams to. however long this feeling lasts, you hang on with all that you can, because waiting at the end is the inevitable sting of loving someone who doesn’t love you back.

it’s a realization you’re not ready to come to yet. for now, a little voice convinces you that there’s a chance. and a chance is enough, isn’t it?

you’re sitting by the docks, feeling the afternoon sun sear your skin, when gentle footsteps knocking on the wood alert you to his presence. when you crane your neck up to see him, he stretches his arms behind his head before sitting down next to you. it’s not surprising, considering armin makes a point to show he cares for all of his friends, but you still wonder if maybe how hard you were thinking about him somehow drew him in. you try to resist the heat burning at the skin of your cheeks fueled by his mere appearance.

“it’s a really nice night, huh?”

he sighs as he lowers his palm to the edge of the wood and throws his legs over, cementing his place beside you. you cling your knees close to your chest while your head rests upon them for support.

“yeah. i didn’t know it could be this pretty.”

tender rays of sunshine brush over his blond hair, making it shimmer like gold. it’s tentative, as if the great light source that keeps your world turning is even too afraid to touch armin arlert.

“me too, but i think i always hoped for it. expected it, at least,” he says with a nod. nostalgia swims in the pond of color in his eyes as he looks out across the water. “but that’s how it is when you’re a kid.”

you want to laugh. when you were a kid, you certainly weren’t concerned with the existence of an ocean beyond the walls. something tells you armin didn’t just expect it out of naivety.

“oh, please,” you say with a roll of your eyes. “you don’t give yourself enough credit. you practically know what’s going to happen before the rest of us have even started thinking about it.”

he lets out a breath of shy laughter through a smile. he’s too modest. “yeah, maybe.”

the blunt edge of your nail scratches at the fresh, amber wood to your side. you press a little more, digging it out like a miniature canyon while silence fills the air. armin opens his mouth and the proximity allows you to hear a rushed intake of air, like courage, filling his lungs before it hitches in his throat. it pauses there, contemplating, before he lets it out in faltered attempt to seem like it went according to plan.

but he swallows and tries again, because armin knows the world will always give him a second chance.

“speaking of… i wanted to talk to you in the first place because, well,” he cedes, rubbing his eyes, “i kind of get the feeling something big is about to happen.”

he chews at the corner of his lip, eyes darting to the side to gauge your reaction.

your head tilts in curiosity. “really? what makes you say that?”

you watch as he fiddles with his fingers in his lap. his nails run along his cuticles, the natural folds in his palms, gathering his thoughts in preparation to set them all out.

his fingers tug through his bangs to soothe his tired roots. “well, it’s been a long time coming. with eren gone, sending notes, arranging plans. it’s coming to its climax, i think. and once it starts, it’s not gonna stop until it’s over.”

bright locks fall in front of his fact when a light gust of wind blows by. his cheeks are smooth and soft with a slight pink tint from the heat of the day, and his lashes are long and wispy, like the wings of an insect. you have to pry your gaze away though your heart pleads you for a second longer spent admiring.

“i really care about you. i just wanted you to know that.”

you’re not sure you hear it right at first. swept away with his image in the hazy evening, you almost miss that he’s talking to you directly. he cares about you. your pulse stutters.

he cares about you.

you blink, swallowing the apparent dryness in your mouth. “i care about you, too.”

after all this time, you should be used to it. the way how he cares will never be the same as how you care, it shouldn’t hurt you, but you still feel your eyes sting and throat tighten. you can’t help it.

you can’t look him in the eye. instead, you avert your attention to the place in the wood you’ve been indenting your nail. the pressure helps distract from the tears gathering along your lashline. it slowly forms the shape of your initial, a diminutive mark on the expansive docks soon to be walked over by thousands.

“is something wrong?”

your immediate reaction is to dismiss. the words are already slipping off your tongue, excuses that it’s the sun in your eyes and denials that you’re just tired, but they get stuck at the end. is it because the opportunity is here? something pushes them away from the edge as they desperately rock themselves back onto the safety of the cliff with flailing arms and wobbly legs. 

hundreds of scenarios rush through your mind, of him getting up and leaving, of awkwardness, of anger and anguish, and yet it’s not enough to derail you. you can’t sit in your itches any longer. if the world is ending soon like he implies, then so be it, because god knows you’d take his word over anything.

“i’m sorry,” you sniffle, voice frail and barely above a whisper. “i just love you.”

you brace for impact, but it doesn’t come. the only sounds are the sawing of your nail, the squawks of distant birds, the waves crashing gently on the shore how they always do at dusk. then his fingers wrap around your wrist, still moving against the wood, to grasp your attention. his eyes are warm and inviting as you slowly lift your head to find them.

“i love you, too.” 

a sad smile tugs at your lips. he doesn’t get it. honesty has never hurt so much. “no,” you confess with a sorrowed tinge, “like i love you.”

his eyes crinkle up like crescents. the grin adorning his cheeks is like a medallion, glowing and bright and entirely juxtaposed from the ache of yours.  “i love you” he presses, eyebrows raising in emphasis. 

“but…”

“but, what? you really doubt it?” he smiles with a breath, eyes crinkling shyly as he looks away. “i thought it was obvious.”

his thumb presses small circles into the back of your palm before letting go and brushing it away from where your hand covers your mark. his nail is much wider and blunt so it doesn’t take long for a faint ‘A’ to appear beside yours, a shade just lighter than the surface.

“if you think you were being obvious, you should have caught on to me earlier,” you laugh.

a coy smile pulls at the corner of his mouth, pressing a dimple into his skin. “maybe i did.”

“you did not.”

“okay, i didn’t. but,” he pauses, holding up his index finger, “i always hoped!”

it draws an airy, relieved laugh from your chest. armin leans down and blows the dust across the wood and sweeps away the extras with his hands.

your initials sit carved into the docks of your home with love, together. no matter if you are unable to return, they’ll still be here. if no one else is around to remember today, at least these letters will be imprinted with a story.

it’s proof of life, proof you lived, and most notably, proof that it was with armin arlert.

[thesmokingguns]

Picnic in the Park

Pairing: Axl Rose x Reader

Word Count: 2128

Fluff

Request Summary: “Axl rose meets a girl threw slash who is his childhood friend whos also an amazing painter and just is infatuated with how pretty she is and he just follows her around like a puppy.Tan skin brown hair that goes to lower back brown eyes, wears alot of cute sun dresses and is very kind”

A/N: I am catching up on requests. So if you have requested anything in the past week or so thag oiece should be coming out soon. Thanks everyone for reading

Tag list: @ayablackwood @agroupiewhore @thenobodies-inc @littlemisscare-all

Your mind was a mixture of light and dark, complimentary colors, and images burned into your mind that you wanted to paint later. If there wasn’t a brush in your hand you were taking notes with a pencil, sketching the world around it through eyes that only you saw it from. You captured everyday life like the older woman with the mesh bag she had filled with fruit or the man with his red beard, a few weeks unkept, napping in the alley to get a break from the heat. You took these people, characters of the world and had them live forever on the canvas you painted on.

Art was your passion. You loved walking around Hollywood with a set of watercolors or a notebook to sketch in and take in the lives of others. There was some sort of poetic feeling of taking a stranger from the street and importilizing them as a character in your art. You created a narrative for them that they may not be living. It was cathartic and you’d spend hours of your day people watching until you finally found the right subject.

Sketching out a bump on someone's nose that might have come from a childhood accident or from their Freshman year of college when they drunkenly fell down the front steps of the dorm, you created their unknown life story as you placed each line of their face into place. If you didn’t infuse their story into the piece it was just some colorful person without any meaning. But you wanted to give the viewer of your art a full piece. They should be able to look at your picture and understand the life that the subject lived; your art created that life.

It was crazy to think that a few years before you were in school thinking about becoming an English teacher.It was a chance meeting at a grocery store when you ran into your old friend Saul’s mother. When you had been kids the pair of you had been so close and secretly your mothers had both had fingers crossed for a wedding that never happened. The pair of you split apart the summer after senior year to set out of a life you each wanted. His mother had invited you over for dinner, which she also invited her son to, thrusting the pair of you back into each other's lives.

Oddly enough, it was like time hadn’t passed between you. The easiness of your friendship coming back without even trying and soon the pair of you were hanging out on almost a daily basis. With your schedule up helped manage his house, buying groceries, doing some cleaning, and running a few errands he never remembered. In return you had a few rooms to yourself. Slash had wanted to make sure you had time for your art as well as a space for it.

Dressing in a white floral pattern sundress you grabbed your bag that contained your art supplies. You wanted to get to the park early and set up a blanket you could spend the day sketching and painting on. You planned to soak up the sun in your skin and use the good lighting to get some new work to sell for the craft fair this weekend. As you turned to grab the picnic foods you had made the night before you saw Axl sitting at the counter. His green eyes looked up, smiling when he saw you.

“Hey, Y/N. Slash just left. I’m going to leave in a minute. I was just finishing up some lyrics.” he was always over and you thought that he was lonely in his role as lead singer. Even though Axl put on this tough guy imagine and had a reputation it was like he needed to work for that because he thought that was what rock stars were supposed to do. Whenever he was around you he seemed lost, always making extra conversation or taking the time to go walk to the coffee cafe with you and wait in line, even if he didn't want anything.

“I’m heading out for a day in the park.” you told him, moving the wax paper covered sandwiches into a small wicker basket, along with some fruit and cheese, some water, and a bottle of wine. You could feel his eyes on you, “I’m over packing and have more than enough if you want to come with me?” you let your eyes flutter up from packing the basket to look at him. “I’ll leave you alone to write because I’m just going to spend the time working on some new portraits.” It was important to you that you set up expectations. There was no need for him to feel like he was going there to entertain you or vice versa.

“I’d love to go. You don’t mind?” he asked as you finished packing up the wicker basket. You shook your head no, letting him pick up the food you had just packaged and leading you outside, “What park did you want to go to? I can drive us there.” you told him what you were thinking, getting comfortable in the convertible.

When you had moved in with Slash you had forged fast friendships with his bandmates. Even though you weren’t at every show and didn't always go backstage you had gotten close to them in different ways. On Wednesday nights you hosted a dinner party where you made them all come by so you had an excuse to cook for them. When someone had a ripped piece of clothing at a show you’d quietly take out your sewing kit, stitching patches in jeans and repairing favorite band shirts. You liked being around them all because of how animated everyone was; they were so easy to draw. You had a whole sketchbook of black and white images from the band. Your favorite subjects were Slash and Axl, mainly because they were the two you were around the most and had the most flexibility when it came to moods.

Axl had grown close to you, drawn into the caring nature you had. It was hard for him to understand that someone would do things for him without expecting anything in return. The first time that you had been out drinking with them and insisted Axl came home with you so you knew he was safe he had thought was a come on. When you helped him drink water and gave him aspirin before tucking him into bed he was shocked. Even more shocking was waking up to find his clothes washed and folded on the guest room chair and you carrying in a breakfast tray of freshly made foods. That’s just how you showed you cared about your friends. Being the mother of the group and taking care of them helped you feel like you were contributing as a friend.

Spreading out the blanket under the Weeping Willow tree. You motioned for Axl to sit as you toed off your sandals and moved to sit down. Digging through your bag you set out your sketch pad and pencils. You could see Axl out of the corner of your eye. He didn’t seem to know what to do. You pulled him down to the blanket, settling him so he could rest his back against the tree. You pulled off his shoes and socks and handed him his notebook as you went about unpacking your picnic so he could pick at food if he wanted to.

With him settled in the shade you laid down, belly first in the sun. Picking up your pencil you scanned the park until you found an older man feeding the pigeons. Your eyes followed his movements for a few minutes before you started your sketch. The feeling of the warm sun on the back of your thighs as you twirled the pencil in your hand, capturing all the features of the man.

As you drew you could feel Axl’s eyes on you. At first it was just light glances every few minutes and then it turned to heavy long looks where his eyes were watching you. Ignoring the way his stares made you blush, chalking up the pinkness in your cheeks as just sun exposure.

A hand slid over your calf, over the back of your thighs before going over your dress and laying on the flat of your back. You turned your face upward looking at Axl watching you. His eyes flickering from your art up to your face. There was a pause, curiosity and interest in what he was going to do next. Your heart is beating in your chest even though your body is frozen, wondering what he was up to.

“Do you want to take a break and eat? You’ve been working for a couple hours.” Looking past him you saw the sun had changed position in the sky and time had gotten away from you. Sitting up you handed out sandwiches, positioning yourself comfortably besides him in the shade of the tree.

Axl had been following you for most of the spring and now into summer. He's around all the time and often comes along for days like this. But you liked having him around. You thought that he needed the quiet comfortable silence between the pair of you; so much of his life was filled with noise.

“Y/N, do you like this?” He asked, peeling off the crust to his sandwich. The action seemed to be more of a need to keep his hands busy instead of a dislike for the bed.

“Do I like this? Picnics in the park?” You didn’t know exactly what he meant. Axl sometimes seemed to talk in riddles not wanting to fully play all of his cards.

“Being with me.” He didn’t look up to meet your eyes at this, almost embarrassed to be talking about it. You weren’t like Axl. There was no need to talk in riddles or have him guessing how you felt.

“Of course I like having you around, Axl. It’s nice to be able to spend time with someone I like.” He looked up, almost surprised that someone would like to be around him. “I’ve had a crush on you for a few months and it’s nice to get to know you more and find more reasons to like you.” You didn’t feel nervous telling him this. It actually felt like a relief to get it off your chest.

He put down his sandwich, wiping crumbs off on his shirt and looking at his hands to make sure that they were clean. Before you could figure out what he was going to do he had a hand in your hair, tugging you closer to him in a soft kiss. For months you had been thinking about what it would be like to kiss him on one of your lazy afternoons together and now it was happening.

Instead of letting him pull away and think about what he had just done you slid onto his lap, letting your hands wrap around him. His free hand was on your back holding you close as the pair of you made out like teenagers under the shade of the willow tree.

Finally, the pair of you pulled away, swollen plush lips and wild curious eyes watching each other. This new change between the pair of you sparkling like wonder between the pair of you. Axl was playing with a piece of your hair, wrapping the brown lock around his finger like he had been wanting to do for months.

“Does this mean we can finally start dating?” You asked, watching the way he smirked at this question. “Because I don’t know how many more times you can just casually show up without Slash catching on. And I don’t know how many more picnics I can plan without touching you.” You admitted, his lips were on your chin and up your jaw.

“Mhhh, I’ve been waiting for this for so long and now I can have you all to myself.” His voice whispered huskily to you kissing your earlobe. He pulled away to look at you again. “You have to tell Slash.” He said, making you laugh as you rolled your eyes. If that’s what it would take to have Axl you didn’t mind telling your best friend about the relationship.

“You take care of me and I’ll take care of everything else, babe.” You promised, meaning it. This was everything that you had wanted for months and now you were getting it. The man that you had started falling for was yours. It had only taken months worth of picnics to get him.

[dustofbrokenheart]

The Lost Boys: Take-Out Intrigue Part 1

Part One | Part Two

Marko x Reader

Word Count: 2,400

Warnings: racial slurs, some gore 

Summary: You catch Marko’s eye while he’s waiting on an order. (Since my blatant favoritism towards Dwayne was called out, I’m trying something new!) 

“Nin hao ma,” Marko called out as he entered the small restaurant.

The familiar scents of garlic, rice vinegar, and sesame oil wafted out from the kitchen in the back. Marko personally preferred the take-out joint down the block but it was David’s night to choose so he didn’t complain. Much.

The older woman at the counter bowed her head slightly with a smile. He wasn’t a regular but he was there enough that she recognized him. “Hao, hao.”

Mandarin was fluent but these owners spoke Cantonese which he wasn’t as familiar with. He supposed he could take time to learn but he’d been occupied with spray painting and the birds for the past few years. That didn’t leave much time, or desire, to pick up something else. Pleasantries out of the way, he switched back to English. His

“Let me get three orders of the sweet and sour pork, one sweet and sour shrimp, four chow mein, one lo mein, and one fried rice.” After a second of thought he added, “Oh, and some egg rolls.”

The owner wrote it all down quickly and waved the paper slip in between her fingers. “Wait here.”

She disappeared to the kitchen, leaving Marko by himself to admire the scrolls of art that hung on the wall.

In the back, she calmly walked over to where you were hunched over an open textbook, frantically taking notes. It was noisy in the kitchen so you didn’t notice her until she cuffed you on the back of the head.

“Oww!”

“Time to work. Keep an eye on the customer out front,” she nagged in Cantonese.

“Fine, fine. I’m going.” You held your hands up in surrender. But you snagged you stuff when she wasn’t looking and hoofed it to the register before she could chastise you again.

You stood at the register and it was impossible to miss the customer. He had a riotous mass of blonde curls pulled back into a ponytail and wore a patched-up jacket that was simultaneously too busy to look at and too interesting to look away from. He must have felt your gaze because he suddenly shifted his focus from the calligraphy on the walls and stared you straight in the eye.

You held your breath and after a few seconds, his face relaxed and he smiled at you. The smile only added to his attractiveness but you instinctively knew that he wasn’t as sweet as it would lead you to believe.

“You’re new,” he commented.

“Y-yeah. I mean, no,” you sputtered. That was embarrassing. You’d never struggled to speak with a customer before. The fact that he stared without blinking made it worse.

He merely hid his smile behind the fingerless gloves and stuck a thumb in his mouth. A possible oral fixation—? You stopped that thought dead in it’s tracks. It was highly inappropriate to think of a paying customer that way. His actions were none of your business.

You cleared your throat in an attempt to start over. “Actually, my family has known the owners forever. But yes, I’ve only been working here for a few months.”  

“I don’t remember seeing you,” he said crowding you despite the fact that there was a register between the two of you. “What’s your name?”

You weren’t sure why, but you felt the need to defend yourself to him. Which was ridiculous. You talked with chatty customers all the time, no problem.

“My name is Y/N. I always take the busy shifts since my English is better. This is the first time I’ve stayed later than the dinner rush.”

That answer must’ve settled something for him because he took at thumb out of his mouth and gave you the first genuine smile you’d seen thus far. In turn, you smiled back and the mood in the room calmed.

His attention went back to the calligraphy and you opened your textbook to the spot you left off at. Everything was quiet. “So…you like calligraphy?” he questioned.

The next fifteen minutes passed quickly as he got you talking about the restaurant’s décor. He was especially absorbed by the painting of a fiery-scaled eastern dragon, which you also liked. But your favorite was the Chinese phoenix on the opposite wall.

“Did you know the fenghuang is a lucky omen? They’re the bird of all birds in traditional mythology.”

That seemed to intrigue him. “The bird of all birds, huh?”

You latched on to the tone in his voice. “Do you like birds?”

He toed the tip of his worn boot into the linoleum floor. Laughed a little. “Yeah. You could say that.”

He opened his mouth to say more but at that moment you were called to bag up his order. A little reluctant, you excused yourself and went to kitchen. The food was already portioned into their respective white cartons, the top flaps folded in neatly.

Opening up the plastic bag, you quickly arranged the cartons inside and tied a with a small, snug knot at the top. Stapling the receipt to the bag, you drew a smiley face on it with a blue-ink pen. The smile came out a little lopsided but you left it alone, afraid it might turn out worse if you tried to fix it.

You lingered near the door, twisting the plastic in your hands. For some reason, you would be disappointed to see him leave. Which was crazy as you’d only talked for a few brief minutes. Judging by the size of the order, the poor guy probably needed to leave so he could bring other people their dinner too.

Resigned, and uncomfortable with that feeling, you went back out to the register. You made sure to use your most polite voice as you rang him up. The exchange happened normally and he dug a wad of dollars bills from his back pocket. It made you cringe to see the money so wrinkled and spotted with an unknown stain, but you kept your reaction to yourself.  

“Have a nice night,” you wished him as you tried to hand him his change.

He waved it off with a shake of his head that sent his curls bouncing. “Nah, keep it.”

And that was it. He turned to leave, swinging the plastic bag at his side with every step. There was no hesitation on his part and you sighed. Clearly, your interest was one-sided.

Logically, you knew shouldn’t take it personal, but emotionally, you couldn’t shake the feeling of rejection. Remembering that you were in the middle of reading, you went to open your notes again. You flipped through the pages slowly, your heart not in it.

Outside of the small restaurant, the red neon open sign casted hazy lighting on the cracked cement sidewalk. Marko hovered just far enough from the door that you couldn’t see him. He snickered.

Your disappointed sighs had followed him as soon as he turned his back on you to leave and he had to be honest—it delighted him. Good to know that you were attracted to him. He certainly liked you.

Santa Carla was full of interesting people, alive, undead, or otherwise, so it was hard to catch his attention. But as soon as you started spouting off about mythical Chinese phoenixes, he was hooked. Yes, he was into birds, screw you, but he’d never heard that story before.

He supposed you could’ve been talking out of your ass but he didn’t get that vibe from what he had seen. Your eyes lit up when you talked about the image so he bet that you truly did admire it. Your voice was steady for the first time in the encounter, meaning that you were comfortable saying those things, had probably told them to other ears dozens of times.

So, yes, you could be making it up. If you were, he’d be the first to admire your skills. But you seemed too straight and narrow for that. After all, you were actually studying at work. What kind of person did that?

The tantalizing combination of authenticity and passion for your Eastern mythology made him want to talk to you again. That way he could pick your brains more and maybe, if he was lucky, make you stutter again. Still, he wasn’t going to walk back in there like a sap. Not after he just left.  

“Hey!”

His ears twitched and he finally got a look at the guy he’d been watching stagger down the sidewalk the entire time he’d been outside. He chose not to saying anything figuring the human would keep talking anyway, which he did.

“You get that food from here?” The human pointed to the restaurant with his thumb.

Marko nodded, biting on his thumb.

“These chinks, or japs, or whatever any good?”

Marko’s eyes that had been taking in the guy’s appearance the entire time paused in the bird pin he had on his cap. It was yellow orange. Similar shade to the fenghuang’s wings. He took his thumb out of his mouth, his slick fangs descending to bite into his bottom lip.  

The ass hadn’t even noticed, still talking and seemingly some kind of inebriated. Fine by Marko. He liked surprising people.

His clawed hand shot out faster than the human eye could track and plunged into the guy’s chest. A hole was torn clean through. The blood and heart organ felt warm and wet as it stuck to his fingers. “I don’t think you need to worry about that you prick.”

The hole was much more pronounced and blood began spilling out. In the light of the moon, the blood looked black instead of red. The about-to-be-dead offender’s jacket absorbed some of the liquid but the rate at which it poured out was too much for the fabric to soak it all up.  It wouldn’t be long until he was officially dead.

The shock registered late and by the time the human looked down, Marko had already pulled his hand out and was sucking at the blood. He laughed at the other’s confused expression. The last thing the guy saw was Marko giggling and playfully waving his fingers.

The corpse sagged to the ground and Marko wrenched it up by one of the arms. He must’ve used too much force because he heard the shoulder pop off out of its socket.

He shrugged, not really bothered. No one else was out on the streets at this time. Especially not during a weekday. Getting rid of the body would be easy. Strengthening his hold, he flew into the night sky to dump the body where it would never be found.

When he came back, the white bag of Chinese take-out was sitting exactly where he left it. Excellent. Bending down to rip off the receipt, he pinned his new yellow orange bird pin to it. There was a small speck of blood on the glossed paint near the small bird’s wing that he licked clean.

He didn’t mind scarring you, but he didn’t want you so freaked out that you went to the cops. That would make things a little messy and make David pissy.

Following his nose, he wandered over the car that smelled of you. A quick glance through the driver’s window showed a stack of other notebooks and…a ridiculously bedazzled charm dangling from the rear-view mirror. It made him raise his brow, but he decided he liked it.

Mythological creatures, bedazzled charms…he couldn’t wait to find out more about you.

He arranged the paper backed pin under the windshield wiper to keep it from falling or blowing away. Marko prided himself on giving gifts and he wished he could be there to see you find it, but he’d been gone long enough. The boys were already going to give him hell for it. And he was getting hungry, too.

Besides, he knew where you worked. He’d find you again when he had more time.

Revving the bike, he raced down the road, the plastic bag quivering where it hung from his handle bars.

---XXX---

“See you later, Auntie,” you called out. A bell jingled as you pushed the front door open. You weren’t used to working this late and were long past due for sleep.

“Bye bye, drive home safe,” she said in Cantonese, the gruffness failing to mask her fondness for you.

Being in the restaurant all night, the crisp air outside was a nice reprieve. You loved the food, you really did, but oil could be headache inducing after a while. There was a slight breeze, too, that refreshed you with its invisible caress.

Most of the other businesses in this area were closed by now, leaving the streets dim and vacant. Luckily, there was a streetlight by your car so you didn’t have to walk in the dark. There was no such thing as being too safe in Santa Carla.

You shifted your things so you could get the keys and stopped in your tracks when you noticed a small piece of paper on the windshield. You looked around, not seeing anything else out of the ordinary. Still, you couldn’t shake the wariness.

Was it a ticket? A threat? A piece of trash that just blew into the window?

Creeping forward, you recognized the smiley face you had drawn earlier. What the—? When you were close enough to snatch it, you realized there was something weighing down the corner of the flimsy paper. A pin.

You angled it toward the streetlight, unsure what it was. An orange, no, golden orange bird gleamed in the light. Its wings spread wide and were smooth under the pads of your fingers.

Warmth spread through your chest. There wasn’t a message on the receipt, but the smiley face gave it away. This could only have been from that customer with the curls and jacket. Had he been wearing it inside? You couldn’t remember.

Clutching the pin, you sat in the driver’s seat. The car ran idle for a bit and you fiddled with the back of the pin. There was plenty of space on your bare jacket to place it wherever you wished. With the delicate gift attached securely to the jacket, you backed out of the parking spot, a smile on your face the entire way home.

Hopefully, he stopped by again soon.

_______________

My first time writing for Marko! Thumbs up or thumbs down? 

Regardless, East Asian (and any) racism isn’t cool peeps. Let’s do better :) 

[guiltgoreglory]

Heat Waves (Chapter 1: A Warm Welcome)

(Very) Brief Summary: Reader is a government contractor joining the team in Benghazi.  (Eventual Tanto x Reader) (2,684 words)

Chapter 2

Foreword: In this series, the reader will be loosely based off of Nikita from the TV show Nikita (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nikita_(TV_series)). The reader has an extensive background in black-ops and is currently an independent contractor working with the department of defense in coordination with the executive branch. If you have any questions about the character, feel free to reach out to me and I can clarify. The story will generally follow the plot of the movie with the exception of a few scenes. Lastly, the POV will shift throughout the story, a change in POV will be signaled by a line.

Author’s Note: Hey guys! I have a full plot already set up but it has been a long time since I’ve written a fic. I’m so sorry if the writing is kinda shitty but I really wanted to get it down in writing. I hope you like it!

You closed your eyes and rested your head against the headrest, trying to find an ounce of comfort in the cramped seat. The dull hum of the plane was cut through by various murmurs amongst the travelers. After a minute or two, you deemed the effort fruitless, letting out a frustrated sigh. Instead, you opened your eyes and looked out the window, watching as the monotonous view trailed by. For the next several weeks, maybe even months, you’d once again become acclimated to discomfort. This shitty seat is probably as good as it gets, you thought. The department will likely have you shacked up in some storage closet on a grimy 20-year-old cot. You have had worse and at least you’d be occupied. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Silva shift. You turned, watching him from a row back, across the aisle. He grimaced as he took off his wedding ring, putting it into a small metal container. He didn’t appear to notice your gaze as you turned your attention back to the window, the heat already radiating in. You felt sorry for him. Leaving people behind is never easy, especially kids. Luckily, you didn’t have that problem. 

As the plane began its descent you skimmed the team comp in your head. You’d been thoroughly briefed on the contractors, on top of all the research you had done on your own. You were joining alongside Jack Silva. A family man in real estate. Pushed to fly back overseas for the money to support his family. From all that you had seen, he’s a good guy. He seemed to be good company. It’ll be nice to not be the only strange face, you thought.

You readied yourself. Benghazi is far worse than most believed. Ever since the department even suggested you might be helpful here, you’d been keeping track of the chaos. It was only a matter of time before it erupted into a full-blown civil war. 

As the landing zone came into view you checked your hijab, making sure not a hair was out of place. You wore a casual white button-down shirt with a gray tank top underneath. You unfolded the sleeves, covering as much of your skin as possible. Given the heat, you’d love to run out in something a little more breathable, but the beige cargo pants would have to do. Next, you checked your “cello” case that sat in the seat next to you. Moving the strap towards you for a quick and effortless disembark. Being you had its perks, one of which was bringing some of your own firepower. 

You cracked your neck as a familiar ding came over the com. 

“Welcome to Benghazi.”

_

The two men settled into the car, watching over all the civilians walking past. Rone leaned forward, pulling a handgun out of the back of his pants. “It’s loaded.” Jack accepted the gun readily, cocking it within his lap. 

“How’s the team here?” 

“Good. Three ex-marines, one ex-army ranger. It’ll be nice to have some more team guys around.”

Jack briefly glanced back at Rone. “Guys?”

“Yeah. We’re waiting on one more before we head out.”

“You work with him before?”

“Nope. Defense department assigned her.”

Jack furrowed his brow slightly, pursing his lips in surprise. “Alrighty then, what’s she look like?” Jack looked more intently for another westerner standing out like a sore thumb. 

“No idea. I’ve been told that she will find us.”

“Oh how ominous.” A smile tugged at the corner of his lip. 

Rone hummed in agreement as he eyed the rearview mirror. Out of the crowd, a body began to beeline towards the car. “Think that’s her.”

Jack nonchalantly stretched, turning towards the back of the car to catch a look. 

_

You approached the dust-covered truck, already craving shade from the burning sun. Your sunglasses did little to protect your eyes from the glare off of the ground. As you got closer, you could see Tyrone eying you from the side mirrors. You adjusted the straps of both your cello case and your duffel, making sure not to make any sudden movements. You made your way to the driver’s side door, turning to face him. “You Tyrone?” you asked, knowing full well it was.

“Yes, Ma’am. And you are?”

“Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. Hop in.”

You nodded, moving back towards the rear of the car. Swinging the back door open, you threw your stuff onto the ground next to the seat. Leaving just enough room for you to climb in. As you sat down, you angled yourself towards Jack so that you could have a proper introduction. He noticed your movement, turning back to face you. He reached out his hand for a handshake. 

“Jack Silva”

You took his hand. “Y/N.” 

He settled back into his seat as Rone started the car. “Just Y/N?”

“Just Y/N.” You affirmed. 

As Rone made his way through the city they began to catch up, making friendly jabs at each other. You yanked your duffel towards you, rummaging through the various clothes. You could feel Jack’s eyes peeking at you ever so often through the mirror, making sure you weren’t doing anything unsavory. Trust is earned.  Finally, you found your shoulder holster. You unbuttoned your shirt, throwing it on the seat beside you. You put on the holster, adjusting the straps as needed so that it sat comfortably. After you were satisfied you again began to look through your luggage, pulling out two black pistols. You loaded a magazine into both of the guns. The sound quickly drew the attention of both men as the conversation briefly paused before they returned to their conversation. You paid them no mind, knowing that any response would probably make them more antsy. You then cocked them before placing them within your holster. Grabbing your shirt, you put it back on, leaving it unbuttoned. It was opaque enough to conceal your firearms as long as no one looked too close. 

“So, Y/N,” Rone directing the conversation towards you, “The Defense Department didn’t tell me much about you. What branch you from?” 

You turned from watching out the side of the car. “Covert operations.” 

That definitely piqued his interest. Jack let Rone do the questioning, but it was clear he was just as curious as him. 

“Alright. SEAL Team?”

“Uh, no. It’s a little more complicated.”

“Oh I get it, you’re on some James Bond shit huh.” He chuckled to himself as you smiled and rolled your eyes.

“Pretty much.”

Rone left the questioning there, knowing he’d probably not get much more of an answer, at least not until you’d come to know him a bit better. The two of them shared a look before the car came to a sudden stop. 

“Shit. No, no, no, no, no this isn’t good.” Rone’s body tensed as he assessed the situation. 

Civilians began to run around the car, whimpering in fear. You straightened up, readying for a shit show. You positioned yourself in the middle of the back, between the two men so you could see as much as possible through the windshield. 

“Fuck.” Rone’s discomfort quickly seeped through his cool resolve. “Who the fuck are these guys?” 

“What do we got?” Jack stayed still, his eyes scanning over the various armed men.

“Brigade we coordinate with, February Seventeenth Martyrs. This ain’t them.” He looked back past you and he switched into reverse. Moving back a few feet, the path was blocked and the car jolted forward. “Shit we’re boxed in.”

You settled on your knees, carefully unclipping the straps keeping your guns in place, just in case. Both men leaned out of the window. Jack looking up towards the man on the balcony readied to run.

“We bailing?” He asked, voice calm and collected.

Rone, giving no response, pulled out his radio. “Base this is Rone. Come in, over.”

“This is Base, go Rone.”

“I’m in a Jam off Fifth Ring Road. I’m lookin’ at about 8 armed tangos here.”

“Copy that, sit tight.”

“Sit tight, that’s great advice.” Everyone in the car became increasingly more agitated as the armed militia made its way in your direction. 

You took a deep breath. “If we’re bailing we gotta do it now.” You glanced at your bags. You could leave the duffel. There wasn’t anything particularly important in there. The case on the other hand couldn’t be lost to a rampant terrorist cell, if you did, the government would be up your ass about it for at least another 10 years. You fidgeted slightly, knowing that the opportunity to flee was about to pass.

Jack clenched his jaw. “They got a KPV.”

Fuck this is bad. 

“Base we ain’t got all day.”

“Hey, Rone. They’re trying to get Feb 17 to back you up, but we’re coming.”

Deeming that transmission utterly useless, Rone whipped out his cell. “Oz I’m in a jam of Fifth Ring.”

“Ty.” Jack interjected as the men became uncomfortably close.

“Rone, 17 Feb QRF is being alerted.”

“Fuck that, the only Quick Reaction force I want is my guys.” Without an immediate response, Rone continued on. “Send them. I want my guys.” He said more adamantly. 

“Negative, Rone. Just hang in there.”

“Maybe I’m not making myself clear. I’m looking at multiple radical insurgents with AKs and a 50-cal technical set to blow my rover all the way back to Zimbabwe. Over.”

You watched as a man dressed in a disheveled suit made his way around the vehicles and debris. He’s the big guy.

“It’s not my call, brother.”

Goddamnit. Looks like we’re either talking our way through this, or we go out quick. The thought gave you the slightest bit of comfort.

Rone looked towards Jack frustrated. You could sense he felt an inch of guilt for getting his friend stuck in this hellhole.

“Here we go.” Jack said nonchalantly as he could given the circumstances.

You crossed your arms, giving yourself easy access to your handguns without looking too conspicuous. A man stood at the front of the rover, yelling something you couldn’t understand. He pointed his AK right at you, maybe it wasn’t on purpose but you couldn’t help but mentally scoff. Well, that’s not very nice.

“Welcome to Benghazi.”

The man in front banged on the hood as the leader moved towards the driver’s side window. Jack raised his hands up innocently as Rone smiled at the man. 

“Salaam.” Rone raised his badge up to the man in the suit as he gazed at him incredulously. “Libyan visa. Official. Libyan government.” The leader looked him up and down. 

The guy with the AK was now in Jack’s face. His gaze shifted forward, doing his best to remain calm despite the barrel of a gun being inches from his forehead.

“Friendly? Hm? Friendly?” Rone again gestured with his badge.

Rone whatever game you’re playing it better fucking work because last time I checked a friend of Al-Qaeda is no friend of ours. You did your best to blend into the back of the car, feigning as the harmless woman. 

“Pull over for inspection.” The leader said sternly.

Rone shook his head. “No.” 

“Pull over for inspection!” He was now angry, his voice shaking with every word.

Alright, this is how it’s gonna go. You crept your hands slightly closer to your guns.

Rone’s voice remained steady. “I’m sorry, sir. I can’t do that.”

The man at Jack’s door yelled once more. Banging his palm against the dirty surface. Then the slightest movement came from Jack. 

It’s showtime. You thought. You gripped your pistols and whipped them forward, pointing them as the secondary soldier positioned at the front of the rover. Jack and Rone acted similarly with Jack’s gun pointed across at the leader, and Rone’s gun pointed at the soldier beside the door. The soldier at the front adjusted his AK, pointing it more fervently towards the car. 

“Look up.” Rone pointed towards the sky with his empty hand, never moving his gaze from the leader’s eyes. “Go ahead, look up.” Some of the aggression left the leader as he looked towards the sky, confused. “You see the drone?” The man looked back down. “No? That’s okay. The drone sees you.”

Nice play, Rone. You thought to yourself. A couple of Americans? No problem. We don’t pose that much of a threat. But good ol’ American air support? Now that carries a little weight. 

“Sees your face. We know who you are.”

Jack, facing the soldier at his door, swallows hard. Keeping with Rone’s power play, he maintains eye contact.

“If anything happens to us, your home, your family, boom, gone. Give us the order to let us go.”

Jack, looking past the AK in his face, doesn’t flinch as the soldier gestures with his gun.

 “I want the car!” 

Within a brief moment, Jack and Rone switched their aim, with Jack now pointing his handgun at the soldier and Rone at the leader. You flinched ever so slightly at the movement, but you remained steady, watching for any worrisome movement amongst the militia. Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. You ignored the harsh metal of the rover digging into your knees. This was your guys’ only shot to make it out of this cramped alley. They had to think your little caravan of three had the power of the entire U.S. military revolving overhead when in reality, you were just three Americans with a couple of guns in the middle of fuckin nowhere.

“No, I’m not gonna do that.” Jack shakes his head, leaning forward towards the man. The energy around the car was beginning to shift. Despite the KPV having enough firepower to destroy your car, and about 5 cars behind you, you three possessed the upper hand. They recoiled at the barrel of your guns, not the other way around.

The leader’s eyes began to soften, his harsh exterior falling at the thought of losing everything. For a moment, you actually pitied him. “I earn the right to decide the future of my country.” You understood the sentiment behind his words. Once again the U.S. had shoved itself into the center of a country, with no right to do so. But you, and the men sat beside you, just wanted to keep others safe. You had no agenda.

“You’re talking to the wrong guy. How willing are you to die for your country? I’m ready to go right here, right now.” Easy, Tyrone. Don’t push it too far. 

The leader’s frown deepened as he considered the weight of Rone’s words. He slowly backed away from the car. “Leave here. While you still can.”

You stopped yourself from relaxing your figure even though it felt like the weight of the world had just been lifted off your shoulders. Rone leaned back into his seat, beginning to maneuver the car between the debris. Jack slowly lowered his pistol to the door as the car inched forward. You followed suit and lowered your guns into your lap. You could hear the leader yelling to his men, and their posture relaxed enough to show they weren’t an immediate threat. Air filled your lungs for the first time in what felt like 5 minutes, before you looked behind through the dusty back window, making sure the leader was true to his word and you weren’t about to get shot in the back. You settled back onto your seat, leaning back against the warm metal. You debated holstering your weapons but decided it was best to have them at the ready until you were within the walls of the base.

“We got air support?” Jack’s voice was calm but demanding. You knew the answer to his question but left Rone to give him the bad news. Rone didn’t take his eyes off of the road as he did his best to make it back to base in one piece. 

“We don’t have any fucking support.”

[thatsgay-writes]

Could I request a fatin x tomboy reader, the reader loves drawing

(I’m kind of mad/sad because I had to redo everything after the first time skip and I feel like the first version was better.)

You had known of Leah and Fatin before getting stuck on the island together. You learned a little about them, Fatin being a party queen who played the cello like an angel and Leah who kept to herself with few friends and might have had a relationship with a older man... Well that’s what you had heard from the rumors. You were like a mix between them. You played for the basketball team and led your team to 3 championship titles, you were pretty popular among the ladies but you never really got involved with anyone. You had friends and went to a handful of parties but you preferred a quiet night in and books over the loud music and alcohol. Not to be confused, you didn’t not like parties (your party animal side almost rivaled Fatin’s) but you just didn’t like going out often.

You had multiple classes with the cello player through out your middle school and high school career but the most the two of you talked was when you bumped into each other at a party and that was only to apologize. You also ended up going to all her concerts because she and your sister played for the same orchestra. You don’t know when but sometime during the last two years, you grew an... infatuation with the other girl. (You say it’s an infatuation but it’s lasted 2 years, you’re lying to yourself.)

Now when you would draw in class or doodle on your homework, it wouldn’t be sunsets, animals, or other random things. It would usually be of Fatin. As much as you hated to admit it, half of your sketch book was filled with Fatin’s face, eyes closed, or her side profile, sometimes even just her eyes. You never drew her in a vulgar way.

---

You would think that being on a deserted island, surrounded by a mysterious forest and a beautiful beach, that your drawings would change and become more scenic. But, of course, Fatin was all you could draw, all you could think about. The only other people that know about your infatuation were Toni and Dot... Leah probably knew too but hadn’t said anything or teased you like the other two girls.

“Damn, y/n you are down bad my friend.” Toni says as she walked up to you and caught a look at the newest drawing you had started of Fatin. You slam your book close immediately and look up at Toni as your face heated up. Toni laughed at your reaction, “You look like you got caught doing something bad.” “Well, I...” You struggle to find words to explain yourself. Toni placed a hand on your shoulder to calm you down, “It’s fine y/n, I’m just messing with you.”

---

You sat next to Dot and Toni as all the girls lounged around for the day, making it an unofficial day off for everyone. “When are you going to tell her?” “Huh?” You hadn’t been paying attention, to busy being distracted by Fatin laying out in a bikini. Toni and Dot face palm at your obvious staring. “She said when are you going to tell Fatin you’re in love with her.” You roll your eyes at your friends, they had been trying to pressure you into confessing your feelings to Fatin for the past few days. “I’ll come clean when you and Shelby finally bone.” You say to Toni with a roll of your eyes. It’s silent for a few minutes and you turn to look at Toni with wide eyes, mouth wide open. Toni looks at your gaping facial expression with a look between embarrassment and a smirk. “You dirty dog!” You say a little too loudly and feel Toni’s hand cover your mouth. “Can you shut the fuck up?”

Fatin had looked up at the sound of your voice and watched as Toni covered your mouth. It made her chuckle for a second before she saw you wiggle your eyebrows at Toni and the other girl blushed. Fatin sent a glare, that went unnoticed by everyone except for Leah, towards Toni who finally removed her hand from your mouth.

“You have to tell her.” “What, no I don’t that wasn’t what I said!” Dot shook her head at you disapprovingly, “You said that you would if Toni and Shelby fucked and they have so now it’s your turn.” “That’s not fair! I didn’t know they already did!” Both girls shake their heads at you in disappointment. “Fine, fuck both of you, I’ll do it tomorrow.” You growl at the two girls before grabbing your sketch book and storm down the beach to draw in peace, not noticing Fatin’s concern gaze follow your shrinking figure.

---

“I got this... No I don’t... Yes I do...” You kept arguing with yourself as you paced back and forth away from the girls. You kept taking peaks at the most recent drawing you had made of and for Fatin. It was a black and white portrait of Fatin with a heart behind her shaded to look 3D. “Should someone go talk to her?” Shelby asked in concern as the other girls watched you pace. Toni let’s out a sigh and goes to stand up when she feels Dot pull her back down. Toni looks to Dot in confusion before realizing that Fatin had stood up instead and was walking towards you. Dot and Toni immediately start nudging each other like elementary school boys in excitement.

---

“Y/n?” You hear Fatin say as she walks up to you and your heart stops. “Are you okay? You’ve been pacing for a minute.” Fatin says as she places a hand on your should to stop you from pacing. You turn your body towards Fatin and your eyes widen when you realize how close the two of you were standing. You looked down at the other girl and felt like you were going to combust. Before you said something awkward, you shoved your sketch book into her hands. Fatin looks at the book and then at you in surprise, you never let anyone look at your book. Fatin starts slowly flipping through the book to give you time to take it back but when you don’t, she continues through the book.

Her breath catches in her throat as she stumbles upon the first drawing you had ever done of her. Her eyes got wider and her face got hotter as she found more drawings of her. She noticed how all your drawings where off her neck and above only. It made her blush because most of the guys she slept with did so because of her body and it felt nice for it to not be capitalized in your drawings. Fatin finally reached the most recent drawing and felt herself tear up, it was so detailed and beautiful. Fatin looked up at you and you just gave her a nervous smile, hoping those were happy tears. She pulled you into a hug and heard how fast your heart was beating causing her to laugh.

“I, um, take it that you like them?” You ask uncertainly as Fatin continues to hug you. Fatin releases you from the hug and wipes the tears from her face, she feels a little ridiculous crying over a drawing. You don’t do anything as you watch Fatin collect herself, not exactly sure if she just really liked the pictures or held the same feelings for you. Fatin pulled you in for a bruising kiss, completely cutting off any self doubting thought you had, the kiss taking your breath away. “The drawings aren’t the only thing I like.”

[kikilefangirl]

Owed

Steve Rogers x Reader

(Word Count: 1377)

(Found this gif on Google images, so credit to whoever made it)

“Right this way, Miss.” 

You followed the security guard through the gala’s main entrance hall. 

Adorned with sparkling jewelry all through your hair, and matching diamond and ruby necklace and ring set, you were a vision in red. Your form fitting, crimson gown had a wide side slit, offset by your black velvet gloves. 

Eyes were drawn to you as you all but glided across the room. The chandelier bathed your brown skin in a warm glow. On your first sweep you spied three generals, quite a few senators, and a room full of dutiful donors and their plus ones. Not one journalist. 

“We need exactly forty-six minutes and eighteen seconds,” Mo, a crew member of yours, told you over comms. If they needed it, you’d get it. 

“Alright, just get it done.” You replied under your breath. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Mo responded and the line cut out. You grabbed a glass of champagne from a nearby waiter and took a sip. 

“Care for a dance, doll?” 

You were getting sloppy on the job. You had to be, because to miss such an obstacle as Captain America and whatever other agents he brought with him, would have never happened five years ago. You shook off your surprise and smiled, your lips parting to show white teeth. 

“I don’t know, a dance with a handsome stranger seems too cliché,” You teased. He lit up at his supposed anonymity.

“Steve. Do I get upgraded from stranger enough for a dance?” He persisted, but made no moves toward you. 

What a gentleman, you thought to yourself.

“I guess you do,” You lifted your gloved arm to him, expectantly.

Steve gently squeezed your hand and led you to the dance floor. The two of you were a perfect fit as you swayed across the room. Other guests gawked, with either jealousy or curiosity, you didn’t know. As the song ended the two of you stood, still close enough together for your breaths to intermingle.

During your dance you counted the two agents Steve brought with them out of the corner of your eye. One was a woman, blonde. Probably SHIELD. The other was a man with a gap toothed grin. He didn’t move like a regular agent, but definitely trained. 

You needed more time. 

“Thanks for the dance, Steve. See you around,” You said, sounding as flippant as you could.

As you pulled away, Steve whirled in front of you offering his arm. You linked yours with his and smirked up at him as he led through the crowd. He leaned down to your ear. 

“Gorgeous, your face didn’t come up once on the guest list,” he whispered. You didn’t react, allowing him to guide you further away from the crowd. 

“Since I’ve been made, I gotta say you’re a great dance partner, Captain.” You countered. 

The male agent was waiting for the two of you in a corner off to the side. Steve’s grip tightened, pulling you closer to him. In a threat assessment, Steve wanted you more towards him than his second in command. A selfless leader willing to put his life in danger over his team’s. 

So he was as much of a dream in real life as he was in your history books growing up.

“Why is it always the fine ones?” Number Two complained as Steve sat you down. You were flanked on either side, quite literally backed into a corner. 

“Nine minutes and twenty three seconds, remaining,” Mo called out in your earpiece. You didn’t reply. Instead, you caught a glimpse of the female making the rounds, most likely checking for any others. 

“You can call your girl off, I don’t bite.” You teased. Steve folded his arms over each other and leaned towards you. 

“Why are you here?” He asked. His lips twitched and he coughed when he caught you staring at them. You looked him in the eye with no shame. 

They were nice lips for a white guy.

“You know, I didn’t peg you as the type who only protects rich white folk, but I guess that’s why your partner’s here. To look out for the rest of us,” Your eyes flicked over to the dark skinned man. He was refreshing, really. 

“I’ll ask again: why are you here?” Steve demanded through a tight lipped smile. To spectators, it looked like you and the captain were flirting, so they tried to avert their gazes.

“You play with toys, Captain. I do business.” You stated, not missing a beat. 

You removed a ruby ring from your gloved hand and sat it across the table. Both men watched you and it like hawks. 

“I take what I am owed by my country, because my country didn’t love me enough to do right by me the first time. Your partner understands.” You said in a breathy voice. 

“I get paid just fine.” He told you. You were right about him not being an agent. You could feel the military bravado coming off him from a mile away. 

“Two minutes.” Mo said. You smirked. 

“Sure you do, soldier. But do you get paid his bucks?” You asked him, never sparing Steve a glance. 

You had a feeling the answer was no. 

“I have a pension with seventy years worth of interest on it. Now, what’s your name?” 

You smiled and turned towards him. Finally, a better question.

“Y/N. Ask your friend Bucky about me. I doubt he’s here, so ask him when—“

Steve cut you off. The games were over with. His expression darkened, his blue eyes harsher than when they first appeared. 

“You’re stalling. Fan out and find whoever she’s protecting.” He ordered. 

Both the soldier and the agent separated to look for your crew. They were long gone. Steve’s iron grip kept you in place, the advantages of a super soldier. 

“Pro-tip Captain, it’s only stalling if you need the extra time. I just like hearing you talk.” You admitted. 

Taking your free hand, you flagged down a waiter. As he drew nearer, your eyes turned a startling shade of purple and so did the waiter’s. Before Steve could react, you used your power to get inside the poor waiter’s head and made him see the single most person he wanted to hurt. 

It was an older man, probably his father. Predictable. 

The waiter launched himself at Steve before he could react, and the hand that gripped you was no more. You slid out from the  small booth and out in the open. The man was going rabid, but Steve was fending him off in the nicest possible way. The attention of the crowd was on them, but the soldier from earlier wasn’t as easily fooled. 

“I’m on her.” He replied, pushed through the masses to get to you. 

“Sorry, man. I hate to do this to a brother, but...” You trailed off, and your eyes flashed purple again. 

You made him see what he wanted most. This time the man, Sam, was stuck in a vision about him, dawning the Captain’s shield. Go figure. Sam stood stock still, his dark eyes turned a vibrant purple. You slipped out of the front door into a waiting car. 

As the driver sped off, you could see Steve bounding down the street after you. He recovered from your little sideshow, and was gaining on you. Damn, he was good. 

Opening up the skylight, you made eye contact with him, stopping him in his tracks. The vision was of you and him dancing like you had been doing only an hour ago. 

So he was a romantic at heart. 

You sat back down and used your powers to nudge Steve closer to the curb. You had no doubt that the man could take the hit, but there was something about him that stopped you from allowing it to happen. 

Besides, incoming traffic honked and swerved to avoid being hit by you or him, anyway. No civilian would be seriously injured and your stunt put enough distance between the two of you that you weren’t followed. 

“All thirty mil is accounted for and ready for distribution.” Mo sounded off. You smiled and fingered your diamond necklace. 

“Great work everyone, you know what to do,” you praised your team through your earpiece. The only bumps in the plan came from your end. You clicked off your comms and put it in your purse. 

As you sat back in your seat and pulled up the partition, your mind drifted to the Captain. You went off into the night with the memory of a handsome man who kept you on your toes all night. It was a shame you couldn’t enjoy him longer. 

“Goodnight, Steve.” You whispered. 

A secret goodbye to a man who wasn’t yours and would never hear it. 

                                                    …

“JARVIS, I need you to ID someone for me. Keyword: Y/N.” 

Steve was standing in Avengers Tower in an undershirt and the dress pants he had on earlier. He was staring intensely at the only image the camera could get of the jaw dropping woman who bested him. He blushed just thinking of the images you made him see. 

“She’s in the wind, man. And that’s probably a fake name.” Sam chimed in as he entered the room, yawning.

“She made me see things,” Steve started, but Sam threw his hand up with a look of almost guilt in his eyes.

Steve elected to ignore that. 

“Sir, there is no record of a Y/N ever existing.” JARVIS stated.

Steve clenched his jaw and thought back to what you said about Bucky. 

“JARVIS, pull up Hydra’s enhanced program. I doubt we’d get a name, but a list of abilities and weaknesses will do. Cross reference with any known or suspected holding facilities Bucky was in.” He ordered. 

Sucking in a breath, he still smelled hints of your perfume. It had been so long since he held a woman without the last name Carter. It was different, but he enjoyed it right up until the part where Sam said you were an uninvited guest with no ID. 

Steve had the worst luck with women. 

JARVIS pinged up a short list of Hydra experiments. 

Only one fit.

“Sam, can you go wake up, Buck. We need to talk to him about his ex-cellmate.” 

[jungkookiebus]

Magic Shop pt. 2 | jjk

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: tea shop owner!jjk x reader ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: angst x fluff  ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: none, just a bit of sadness and foul language ʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ: PG ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 6.7k sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:  you thought after three years the hurt in your heart for your dead husband would sting a little less than it did. in an attempt to clear your mind and start anew, you move to a small, coastal town. there, you find comfort in a tea shop run by a man named jeongguk. every day, at the same time, you come to the tea shop and soon start to fall for the bright-eyed man that listens to you pour your heart out. but the guilt settling in your stomach every time you think of your husband has you running from jeongguk entirely. do you have what it takes to let go?

New beginnings are often disguised as painful endings. -Lao Tzu

“How does this look?” you asked as you turned in front of the mirror. Kyongni sat behind you and meowed loudly. “Is it too much?” You had decided on a summer dress, so it didn’t look like you were trying too hard. She looked at you dismissively before trotting off down the hallway. It was close to her dinner time.

The setting sun was starting to flood your house when you stepped out into the hallway. The air was still, but light. Kyongni sat on your kitchen counter, the sun cloaking her orange coat in golden flame, with her tail swishing lazily.

“I get the hint,” you said as she meowed again. You quickly filled her bowl and set it down on the counter in front of her. You stood, watching her almost in a daze when three soft knocks on your door drew you out of your daydream. Your brow furrowed as you looked towards your front door. Looking down at your phone, you saw that you had fifteen minutes to make it to the restaurant to meet Jeongguk. Whoever was on the other side of that door better just be making a delivery of some sort. Your heels clicked along the floor as you left Kyongni to eat alone on the counter.

Pulling the door open, you were surprised to see Jeongguk, all smiles with a bouquet of flowers in his hand, standing on your porch.

“What are you doing here? I thought I was meeting you?” You were still a bit shocked to see him. He was dressed nicely. He had on dark jeans, black boots, and a long-sleeved white button up.

He looked down shyly as he scooted the toe of his boot across the sand that perpetually seemed to creep onto your porch. He looked up again and you saw the tips of his ears start to redden.

“I didn’t want you to walk there alone.” He quickly thrust the flowers forward towards your chest. “I picked these from my garden.” He seemed like a shy teenager going on his first date.

“Oh!” You grabbed for them before he would inevitably open his fist and let them fall. “Come inside. I was just feeding Kyongni.” You stepped to the side to allow him in.

You immediately went back into your kitchen to retrieve a vase for the flowers.

“These are beautiful, Jeongguk, you didn’t have to ruin your flowers for me.”

“It’s not ruining them when you give them to someone you like.” He wasn’t looking at you as he said it but was instead scratching Kyongni behind her ears, so he missed the small smile on your face.

“Should we go then?” you asked, turning around.

He smiled when he looked up at you. “You look pretty.”

It was your turn to blush now as you looked down. You mustered a shy ‘thank you’ as you reached for your purse. When you turned around from locking your front door, Jeongguk was waiting at the bottom of your step with his arm out, waiting for you to hook yours in his elbow. His smile widened when you complied, and he took the lead as he guided you towards town.

The both of you were mostly silent for the duration of the walk. Wildflowers had begun to bloom, and you still couldn’t get over the ocean views.

“You know,” Jeongguk started softly and suddenly you were afraid of what he was about to say, and you weren’t sure why, “I’m really glad you moved here.”

You weren’t sure what to say. It had been so long since you had been on a “date” or been complimented by someone that wasn’t your husband that your voice caught in your throat and your thoughts scrambled. You stumbled over your words and he smiled as you struggled to say something.

“I-I’m not sure exactly what I expected when I moved here, but I’m really glad, too,” you managed to say.

Jeongguk’s smile could have lit up the darkest of nights, but it was reserved just for you in this moment and part of you wanted to tuck him away, while others fought with your warring feelings. But for now, you were in a perfect bubble. But like all perfect, shining bubbles, its sensitive edges were about to be pierced by the nearest point.

The restaurant was buzzing when you arrived, but Jeongguk had called ahead for a reservation so the both of you were sat rather quickly. He pointed towards the small shaded lamp that sat in the middle of the table and giggled.

“How Ratatouille of them.”

“Seriously?” you snickered as you hid your face behind your menu. You were still laughing when the waitress cheerily came up to the table for your drink orders.

The wine loosened you. You hadn’t touched alcohol in months and now that the sweet red wine was coursing through your body, you were starting to give him more details about your life than you ever had. You had him laughing over silly stories about your childhood, dumb things you and Ki had gotten into, and soon he was cooing over endearing stories about you past pets. Dinner was going better than you had ever thought it would and you felt relieved and happy that you accepted his invitation.

Some time in the night, the music had changed from some current pop music to a more subdued genre that lilted lazily in the background of your conversation. A couple tendrils of music crept into your ears that you recognized with such clarity that you were instantly sober, heat rushing under your skin and caused you to sweat. Jeongguk noticed the change in your demeanor immediately as you sat with your glass mid-air, a shocked look on your face. He slowly sat his fork down and looked at your pained expression in the dim lighting.

“_____?” His voice was low and gentle as if hearing your own name would cause you to explode.

Your eyes shifted to his and you weren’t sure what he saw there but his back was immediately a little straighter as he sat his napkin on the table from his lap. You heard the echo of your own name in your ears again as he spoke a little louder. The blood was rushing so loudly that you could barely hear him. Your hands began to shake, and you suddenly felt as if you were having a panic attack.

It was your wedding song, the first one you danced to.

How had you avoided hearing it after all these years? Maybe the universe had been sparing you and now it was sticking its toe in your front door. Hello, it seemed to say, did you forget about your pain? Shame. A vision of small, white lights lining the trees overhead flashed into your mind. His smiling face as he brought his forehead down to yours, hand in hand, his other on your waist, came into such clear focus that a sob stuck in your throat. How could you have forgotten? How could you have left the most precious moment in your life in the back of your mind collecting dust? You wanted to throw up, you wanted to scream, but all you could do was sit your glass down on the table and finally look Jeongguk in the eyes. You were the ultimate traitor. You willed your tears not to fall. You didn’t want to cry in the middle of a restaurant, but the room began to feel too small and stifling for your liking. You stood from the table suddenly and looked towards the front door before grabbing your bag and weaving between the tables.

“____!” You heard him say your name, but you needed to be outside more than you needed to be in here. If to at least drown out the song so you didn’t have to hear the entire thing.

You didn’t see as Jeongguk shuffled for his wallet, shoved several bills into the waitress’s hand, and apologized before running after you. You reached the door, shoving it open even among the surprised waiting patrons who could see the evident panic on your face. Your feet couldn’t carry you out fast enough as you hit the cool air outside, thankful for the quelling of heat. Jeongguk was fast on your heels as he burst forth from the waiting crowd and was at your side in an instant. You took in large gulping breaths as the tears broke forth and you felt his hand on your shoulder. Quickly, and maybe even harshly, you moved from under his touch and stood in front of him.

“Jeongguk I’m sorry, I can’t do this.” You wanted to scream at the sky and curse the world.

His hands were outward towards you, but not daring to reach. “_____, what happened? Was it something I did?” His eyes were pleading, he looked desperate for an answer as you cried.

You wildly flung your hands between you. “This! Us! I can’t do this. I’m sorry, but I didn’t mean to lead you on, I didn’t mean for any of this.”

You clutched your stomach not wanting to look at him, but you didn’t miss the hurt that flashed in his eyes. He dropped his hands to his sides finally and looked at you for a few moments in silence.

“Would you like me to walk you home?” His voice was so quiet, so devoid of feeling. You knew he was trying to be kind, but something about it made you angry. Even after you did this, even after the way you acted, he was still willing to take care of you in some way.

“Just go home.”

He pursed his lips, nodding. There was so much more he wanted to say, but he instead stood quietly in front of you. He tapped the toe of his boot awkwardly on the ground, head down, before he looked up again.

“If you need me, you know where to find me.” The hurt in his voice gutted you. How could you have been so selfish?

He waited for you to turn around first. You didn’t hear footsteps behind you as you slowly walked into the night.

Jeongguk stood in the same spot until he could no longer see your retreating form, standing in the quiet dark unsure of what to do.

You all but ran home. Tears flowed freely again as your guilt ripped through your heart and stomach. Your chest felt as if it had a million tons stacked on top of it and the food you had eaten threatened to come back up. Kyongni was excited as you opened the front door, but immediately sat at your feet in mild curiosity as your sadness caused you to double over. You sobbed harder than you had in a long time. A pain that you had all but forgotten, but had laid dormant, came rushing back. The same pain you felt when he died screeched in like a predatory bird and sunk its talons into your back. You couldn’t breathe and you couldn’t think straight as you stumbled towards your room, hand finding the wall as you tried to stay upright and not just fall down in the hallway. You could only manage to kick off your shoes as you curled up in the middle of your bed. Kyongni was immediately at your side, purring loudly as her tail flicked back and forth.

You weren’t sure when you finally fell asleep, but your limbs were stiff as sunlight came through the windows. Kyongni was still on the bed next to you, but fast asleep. Your eyelashes stuck together where the tears had dried and your nausea still bubbled in your stomach. The bath you had only made you feel minutely better as you moved through the house with heavy limbs. Outside, the sky was graying over the horizon. The ocean was bringing in a storm. You wanted to roll your eyes, but you felt too tired to even think. You noticed with some disdain that you had left some tea out that Jeongguk had given you a few days ago. You could only manage to put it away and feed Kyongni before you sidled to your couch and laid on your side. Thunder rumbled overhead. The rain began slowly, hitting softly against your window before it turned into a torrential downpour. How had you ended up here after all this time?

You slept on and off through the day. Your feelings varied from empty to so overwhelming that you could barely move. When you finally decided to rise from your couch, the storm had passed, and the sun was setting. Begrudgingly, you stood knowing you needed to feed your cat and yourself. When you were done, you stood in your kitchen looking around as if something would happen. As if something would pop out and say, Hey! Focus on me for a minute and forget! But there was nothing. Maybe a walk. You didn’t think twice as you grabbed a sweater and stepped outside. Stars were starting to form in the now clear sky and the night had cooled immensely. You weren’t sure where you were going as you started to walk and you sure as hell did not intend to walk by the shop. Of course, it was closed and dark, but all the sudden the tea shop no longer held the same magic as it had before. It seemed ominous and foreboding as it sat in silence. Beyond the window, it was black, with only a few plants in sight. The carved wooden door did not seem as whimsical as it once used to. A place that was once a source of hope and warmth was now filled with a steely iciness. Your heart seemed shut off to the idea of joy as if you didn’t deserve it. Instead, a pain and bitterness filled you that left a horrible taste in your mouth. You didn’t want to stand here much longer as you turned to go back home, clutching tightly to your sweater as you experienced yet another loss. The tea shop, and enigmatic place of wonder, was now an empty shell.

The days crawled on. You no longer went to the shop. Jeongguk had tried to text you the next day, but when you didn’t answer, he stopped trying. He had left a bento on your porch, and as much as it pained you, you left it there. A day later, it was gone. He had even knocked on your door once, you saw him through your window, but you ignored him until you saw his retreating form down the path. It was best that you kept all ties cut from him, for him and yourself. He didn’t deserve someone who was like you, broken inside, and you still felt a deep cutting guilt for your late husband. The virtual sessions with your therapist seemed little to help you and even Ki coming in for a weekend only slightly lightened your spirits. He had known your relationship with Jeongguk had grown, gently encouraging it even, and it pained him to see you reeling back into old feelings again. You had gotten angry when he suggested you talk to Jeongguk, so he dropped the subject completely. When he left, you fell into the same pit of depression again.

A month passed. When in town, you tried to take paths that wouldn’t take you passed the tea shop. Once or twice, you had seen Jeongguk in town. Whether he saw you was unknown, but you’d quickly leave wherever you were to avoid him.

What had you become? It didn’t matter anymore. You had lost yourself almost four years ago. What did you expect?

You stared at the boxes that still sat stacked in your makeshift study/library. They were mostly his books and things you couldn’t seem to let go of. His office was his sanctuary and everything in it was like relic to you. As if some part of him would still be present, you were afraid to get rid of any of it. Were you doing any service to him by having it all packed away? You stared at the almost bare shelves save for a few of your own books and sighed. You needed to make a cup of coffee first.

When you had a steaming cup in your hand, you surveyed the room again. All the boxes were neatly labeled so there would be no issue in finding anything. Just the thought of unpacking it filled you both with relief and dread. Slowly, one by one, you began pulling books from a box. Before you noticed, you had neatly put away at least three boxes worth of books. In another box were the framed pictures he had had on his desk. One was of your wedding photo and another was of just you from a vacation to Jeju. He had always kept both within eyesight, sitting behind and to the side of where he usually sat his laptop on his desk. Sticky notes with his various tasks at the time sat stuck together and stacked in the cup he kept his pens in. You felt as if every tear in your body had dried up over the past months, but seeing such mundane things brought back a new quell of feelings. You were sad, but also reminisced on a time when things like ‘email Kim about research grant’ were the most of his worries. Another had a time and location. What for you couldn’t remember. He had also kept the various love notes you would scribble across the orange pad, sticking them to his desk at home and at work.

The box you had saved for last, when the last tendrils of sunlight came through your sheer curtains, was the one you hadn’t really wanted to touch, but you were here and you might as well. His books were precious to him. There was one story that touched his soul and he revisited it over and over. You pulled the flap back on the cardboard and peered inside. Sixteen worn and dog-eared novels sat neatly stacked in the box in perfect order. The epic had brought many years of happiness to him and he would lose himself in the turbulent history late into the night. Several times he had tried to get you to read it, even reading you his most favorite passages, but you had never committed saying that sixteen was too much for you to conquer. The word Toji looked up at you, the watercolor of workers so familiar to you. It was nostalgic seeing it now because the last time you had, it had been in his hands.

You picked up the volume and it felt soft. He had read it so many times that the cover felt like soft velvet beneath your fingers, bending easily as you opened the book and held it to your face, inhaling deeply. For a moment you imagined it smelled like your old home and him when you knew it was just the smell of the old pages. You sat it down and picked up another, just as worn, flipped to the middle and smelled the pages. You felt calm for the first time in a long time. You picked up another and before you could flip further, a piece of folded notebook paper fell from between them. You stared at it as it lay on the floor. There was obviously something written on it. You could see the heavy black ink through the paper and you immediately recognized his flowing handwriting. Why would he leave something in his book? Maybe it was just a bookmark. Putting the book back in the box you bent over and plucked it from the floor and unfolded it. Your hand flew to your mouth when you saw the note was addressed to you, but you had never seen it before. Did he know you would find this here? Had he written it with the intention to give it to you and decided not to? You didn’t even bother to sit as your eyes scanned the paper, immediately wondering what its contents were.

Hello my love,

I hope this finds you happy. I’m tucking this away in the books I always told you to read, but you always said was too long. When you thought I wasn’t looking, I caught you on many occasions skimming through the book, reading a page here and there. I know you wanted to be able to talk with me about it, but it’s okay if you never wanted to read it. The fact that you tried warmed me.

So, I expect you to find this much after my passing. I would like to imagine that you moved out of the city to somewhere nice. I know how much you wanted to live on the coast. Go somewhere where the sun will wake you up each day and the moon lays beside you at night. Meet new people, make new friends, and find new love.

I don’t want to be cliché and say that I want you to be happy but—honestly, I couldn’t put it any other way. You brought so much joy to my life and you have so much love in your heart I’d hate to see you keep it stored between guilt and regret. Don’t be afraid to move on. No matter what you do, or where you go, you will always have my heart.

Now, go get a cat or something. Don’t lock yourself away and promise me that you’ll let love back into your heart.

How wonderful it was to have met and loved you; a thousand paths await your footsteps.

-Hoseok

The tears you no longer thought you had flowed openly. A new foreign feeling hit you like a freight train. A release, an ease of pain you didn’t know you needed overtook and overwhelmed you. It was like he had come back, if just for a second, when you needed him the most and told you exactly what you needed to hear. He had never expected you to feel angry and hurt for so long. He had never expected you to live your life alone because he had gone earlier than you. He had never expected anything from you, and you weren’t sure why you hadn’t seen it before. He had been such a wonderful, forgiving person that you had done him a disservice to think he had wanted this. Of course, he wanted you to be happy. Why had you thought any less?

You suddenly felt terrible for the things you had done; for the things you had said to Jeongguk the last time you had seen him. It had been a few months since you left him in the street. You could apologize but what were you expecting from him? Nothing. You didn’t deserve to even be heard by him, but you needed to try.

Thunder rumbled overhead. As if this couldn’t get any worse. You were already queasy thinking about confronting him, but if now you didn’t go you never would. You didn’t bother changing from your ragged shirt and shorts, only throwing on a jacket as you ran out of your house in just socks and slides.

The wind was violent, twisting trees this way and that as a strong storm rolled in over the waters. You had no business being outside and you weren’t even sure he was home. You tripped once going up the uphill path to his home, knees scraped, but you didn’t notice as you picked yourself back up. Your feet slid in your shoes as the rain began to fall and your extremities felt like ice. Your nose began to run with the cold, breath coming out in soft puffs as you tried to traverse the now rain slicked path. It was coming down in sheets now. Regret coursed through you as you shivered, but the overwhelming feeling to stand in from of Jeongguk and just scream fueled you. You wanted to scream to let out the anguish, but you also needed him to know how you felt. You would probably look and sound crazy as you finally reached his house, but you were desperate. Your blood felt hot and pumped in your ears. You felt relief as you rounded the trees and saw his home lit from within. Nothing you were about to do was rational or normal, but it was going to ease the pain even further. Even if it ended badly.

“Jeongguk!” you yelled from his front yard. You squinted as the rain poured and the wind blew. The door did not open. No figure passed in front of the light. The storm was loud. You screamed again, feeling a release of emotions you had been holding as you shouted half at the sky and half towards him. Your throat hurt and your voice rasped.

His front door came open with such ferocity that you were taken aback with how quickly he ran out onto his porch. He looked like he had been relaxing. His hair was disheveled, and he was dressed as if he intended to stay in bed all day. Your hands were at your sides in fists as you willed your body to stay up and stay warm.

“_____?” he shouted as he looked through the driving rain. “What are you doing out here?!”

He hopped off the porch and into the rain and ran up to you. He didn’t think twice as he seized your shoulders.

“You’re going to make yourself sick why are you in the rain?” He didn’t ask where you had been, why you had ignored him, or anything of the sort. His only concern was that you were out in the cold and rain crying. Water dripped from his hair and soaked through his clothes, but he stood in the rain with you looking directly into your face. “What’s wrong?” No sense of animosity or disdain colored his features. He looked genuinely concerned as you sobbed in the deluge.

“I-I’m so s-sorry,” you choked out. Your hands were fisted into his shirt, clinging to him desperately as if he would go back into the house and leave you here.

His hands moved to your wrists and you were abruptly afraid he was about to pry your fingers from him. You looked up at him in panic as your fingernails dug into your own palms through the fabric. His face softened and his grip on you was loose.

“Please come inside.” Lightning flashed overhead as the rain began to fall even harder. You only nodded as he all but pulled you into his house.

You shivered and dripped water on his floor.

“I’m s-sorry,” you said again as you shivered.

“It’s just water let me get some towels and dry clothes.” He was fast as he took his stairs two at a time and before long, he was back down with large fluffy towels and clothes. He wrapped one around your shoulders and began to rub up and down your arms as you shivered. You could see his own bottom lip trembling slightly as he focused on you.

You grabbed the towel and stopped him. “I’ve got it. You’re cold, too.”

He stopped for a second as if thinking before he nodded and grabbed the other towel.

“Here,” he said when you were no longer dripping on his floor, “bathroom is right there. Go put these on.”

He handed you soft sweatpants and a sweatshirt before you walked in the direction he pointed. When you came back out again, he was in the kitchen, in dry clothes with his long hair still drying, busy with a couple of mugs. He smiled when he turned around and slid the steaming cup across to you. The smell of warm milk and honey reached your nose and you instantly relaxed as your hands wrapped around its warmth. You could feel his eyes on you. You had seen the way he searched your body when he ran outside, afraid that some physical harm had come to you. But now that you were here in one piece, his eyes felt as if they were piercing through you and seeing everything. He remained quiet as you both drank in silence until you finally set your mug down. He mirrored your action as he stood across the counter and waited.

“First,” you whispered. You still shivered a little despite the warmth you felt. “I understand if you don’t want to listen to any of this…” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other but didn’t say anything, so you took that as your cue to continue. “But I want to apologize for the way I’ve been acting.”

Silence filled the void between you. He was waiting for you to finish. You figured he wouldn’t interject but part of you wished he would say something.

“I feel…this heavy guilt in my heart. Hoseok was my first love.”

It was the first time you had ever mentioned his name to him. Out of all the things you had told him, you had kept that part of your heart hid away and guarded.

“I met him so young. It was almost as if I grew up in love with him. His love was all I knew and he so kind, and soft, and thoughtful, and…” For once, talking about him felt therapeutic. “He showed me what true love felt like. He opened my eyes to so many things. He supported me in whatever I wanted to do. He was perfect for me in every way.”

Jeongguk stayed silent but attentive. The steam that once wafted from his cup dissipated as the milk grew cold once more.

“He was sunshine personified. Whenever he was in a room, everyone would smile, no matter how down they felt. He could talk to anyone and make a friend. He was so smart. I don’t think there was one person that saw an enemy in Hoseok. I was so excited to start a family with him.” Your thoughts drifted again. The hardest part was the babies you never got to hold. “But I think I have finally accepted his death.”

Jeongguk seemed afraid to move or breathe when you finally mustered the courage to look at him. His eyes were wide as he listened to you.

“I was so caught up in my own grief that I didn’t stop to think what he wanted. Yes, I know, he was dead. But what he wanted, alive or dead, was for me to be happy. It was like his life purpose was to make me happy when all he had to do was simply be in my presence. I was selfish because I felt like my happiness had been torn from me when he had never left. I had small pieces of him everywhere around me. I ignored it all and let the sadness consume me.”

What you were going to say next would make or break anything that happened tonight. Whether it ended in your favor or not, having it off your chest would help you sleep at night.

“Then I met you.” You smiled as you looked at him, eyes shining in the overhead lights. “You seemed to know me better than I knew myself. You pulled me out of that cloak of depression, and I was so fucking afraid that I just left you with no explanation. You started showing me a different kind of love, even though it was friendship at first and it scared me. I felt like I was betraying him by experiencing this new feeling. You never did anything wrong. You befriended me when you didn’t have to, and you were patient with me as I came out of my shell and I took advantage of that. You don’t deserve anything I did to you, Jeongguk.”

His lips were pursed, and concern was evident on his face. He seemed as if he were struggling for something to say.

“I can fully say now that I do love you. I realize now that I have loved you for a while, but never wanted to come to terms with it. I understand if you don’t reciprocate those feelings, but I just need you to know that and how sorry I am.”

Silence fell between you again before he sighed heavily. You braced yourself for rejection.

“It was wrong what you did,” he began. You felt the sting but knew you deserved it. “I was so worried about you. When you started ignoring me completely; leaving the food, ignoring my texts…fuck, ____, I even went to your house and knocked on your door. I spent days sick to my stomach. When I finally saw you in town one day, I was able to breathe because at least I knew you were still functioning and alive—” His voice broke for a second. Every bit of hurt he was dealing you right now was deserved. “I let you go. I’ll admit that I let you go.”

This was what you deserved.

“But god dammit,” his voice broke as he began to cry, “if I were to say I didn’t love you that would be the biggest fucking lie I ever told.”

All at once you felt relief, but also a deep-seated fear. Just because he said he loved you did not mean he had forgiven you. You wanted to look away as he cried, the tip of his nose turning red. You didn’t know how long you’d have to make up for this, if he gave you the chance at all. His tears fell for a few seconds and you had to resist the urge to reach out and brush them away. He sniffed as they dried before looking at you.

“I need time. I need time to take all this in and think about it.”

You nodded sadly. This was the least you could do for him.

“You can stay here tonight. This weather is too bad. I’ll set you up a place to sleep, okay?”

He didn’t look at you as he left the kitchen to prepare the extra room.

That night, your sleep was restless. It was filled with nightmares of Jeongguk screaming at you and others where Hoseok were still alive. Once again, the horrible nightmares you had escaped, slowly crept back into your life.

 Four years later

The day was dreary, just like you felt. The rain was a mist as it came down on your hair. You could feel it frizzing instantly and you felt gross as it began to slowly permeate your clothes. Everything hurt. Your feet, your knees, your back, your shoulders…you name it, it hurt. Your depression was a little worse today; the pain only amplified it. Your doctor had changed your medication, safely, saying it was normal to feel this way, that you would make it through together. She was such a good doctor. You sighed heavily, shifting the bag in your hand as you walked. There weren’t very many people in town right now because of this disgusting weather that sat over it for the last two days.

Things had gotten better. You were still in therapy working through all your issues in life, but things really had gotten better. Just the blues right now. Something that would pass. You had been through it before. Your good days were starting to outweigh your bad. Now that you were so close to the end.

You pressed your hand against your back wishing there were someone there to punch it for you. You really should have brought an umbrella.

You trudged wearily out of town and closer to home, wishing maybe to have taken the car if it were only a five minute drive. But you had insisted that a walk is what you needed.

Wrong.

Your home rose ahead of you finally and you sighed in relief. The lights were on and you knew it would be warm inside. You used the last bit of your tired strength as you pushed open the door and stepped inside. Something smelled good.

Kyongni greeted you with a series of meows as she wove in and out of your legs.

“Oof, Kyongni, hold on,” you said as you struggled to bend over and pet her head. She purred contentedly as you scratched her ears and neck. “I gotta go deliver these.” You stood as straight as you could, closing your eyes for a second, and letting the air out of your cheeks. When you had convinced yourself to walk again, you stepped into the kitchen.

Jeongguk was at the stove stirring something in a pot when you walked in.

“It started misting again?!” he said in surprise as he turned around and looked at you. He walked over to you quickly and took the bag. “I’m so sorry, I could have driven you there.”

“No big deal. I had no idea.” You moved slowly over to the large armchair by Bungeoppang’s hammock and fell into it. “Just kinda put a damper on my mood I guess.”

“Well, I’m making you some soup. It’ll also help with the queasiness.” He grabbed a couple of the things you had bought from the bag, added it to the pot, and was soon dolling out the savory smelling dish into a bowl. He grabbed a pair of chopsticks and a spoon before he carefully carried it towards you and sat it on the side table next to you. When it was delicately placed, he slowly moved, hovered over you as you reclined in the seat willing your body to relax. His hands came down gently on either side of your swollen belly. The baby moved a little as Jeongguk pressed a little harder and his laugh was light.

“He’s happy,” he commented.

“He heard your voice. He was still on the way home, thankfully. My back is killing me.”

“I can massage it for you after you’re done eating, but you need to eat.”

He leaned down and kissed your stomach before he placed a quick one to your lips. Then he left you to eat while he cleaned up before serving himself. You watched as he moved around the kitchen. The years had been kind to him. He kept his hair long, which you loved. The tea shop was still thriving, and you couldn’t wait for the day when your son was old enough to share in Jeongguk’s passion.

Hoseok’s sixteen volume saga was now put away nicely on the shelf in your home, having moved in with Jeongguk after dating for a while and then eventually marrying. Tucked away in its pages sat the note he had written and from time to time you would take it out, unfold it carefully, and read the words lovingly. A thousand paths did await your footsteps, but the one you stood firmly on now was clear and full of bright sunlight. Your first wedding song did not bring the sadness it once did, you listened to it with a deep fondness, usually in private on days you missed him the most. Now, you had a new wedding song that could lift your spirits on some of your worst days. You were married to a man that did not feel like he needed to replace anyone but loved you fully for your flaws and past. The love you felt for Jeongguk was insurmountable, new, different, and everything you needed.

It had all started with what felt like magic, a tea shop settled oddly, almost at an angle between two buildings. It gave off a magical aura with its soft, gray brick, glass rippling with sunlight. A green door with intricate wood carvings greeted you as you pushed it open. You still remembered the spicy smells from that day, but what you remembered the most was a boy in a soft sweater, hair falling into his eyes as he greeted you with a bright hello.