#apparently those are reposters' favourites so here look at this

[originalartblog]

Apparently much-needed reminder that reposting artists' art (by saving the images or screenshotting them and reuploading them yourself) on other platforms without the artists' expressed permission and without credit is theft and an insult to their passion and craft. You are profiting (in views, in attention, in feedback) from someone else's work and ideas, who do not get that feedback for sharing their creation.

If you are an art reposter, you are a thief and I have no respect for you.

[always-just-red]

@lunariadew asked: 'Can you write a poly fic maby like a feel good fic or date night or something with all the boys! I’m greedy and I think there’s not enough poly fics as there should be'

Nothing profound this time around! Just some good old-fashioned shenanigans. I've wanted to do a fic with all the boys for SO long (Infold, hire me to write a sitcom-style show for the guys, PLEASE) I've kept it platonic since it's early stages; it's open to interpretation about how many sparks are flying and between whom exactly..... 👀 But if ppl want more of this, I'm all over it. Platonic or romantic? I'll play it by ear!

Game Night

L&DS Boys X Reader

Summary: The most important men in your life can manage one evening together, right? For you? Please? Pretty please?

Genre: Fluff + humour

Warnings/Additional Tags: f!reader, some swearing, a lil conflict, non-canon (I know some of the guys probably know each-other but we're pretending they don't 😇)

| Word count: 4k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Rafayel… what do you think this is?”

The artist stands at your open door, wearing a self-assured smile and one of the flashier outfits you’ve seen him in, and that’s really saying something. Between you is a bouquet of lilies, petals curled like frozen licks of fire that compliment— deliberately, if you had to guess— the warmer fires within his eyes. Those eyes narrow at your question.

“What do you think it is?” he says suspiciously, lowering the flowers.

“…Game night?”

You’re not sure why you phrase it so tentatively. You know what it is; you’re the host. You open your door wider, stepping aside to give Rafayel a better view of the apartment behind you, and the remainder of his smile sinks.

“Hi,” Xavier calls out, and you don’t have to see him to know he’s giving a wholesome sort of wave.

“Hi…” Rafayel answers, barely more than a whisper as his eyes flit between everyone else in the room, because he’s the last to arrive. “Game night, yeah,” he nods assertively, “I knew that.” Then a deep breath: “Can I, like, put these somewhere—”

“Kitchen counter,” you gesture.

“Got it.” He doesn’t have to be told twice.

Closing the door behind him, you watch as he skirts past the lounge and makes for your kitchen, where another bouquet already lies waiting. He zeroes in on it. “Looks like mine’s not the only heart you’re breaking tonight, huh, cutie? What are these—” he pokes at a petal— “daturas?”

“They’re her favourite,” speaks a distinctly low voice.

Rafayel doesn’t look up. He plonks his bouquet on top of the other and winces: “They’re really not, though.”

“He’s right,” you chip in, giving Sylus a sheepish smile, and now Rafayel looks up, beaming.

“She likes roses,” Zayne says, with the calm confidence he’d quote a medical journal. On the sofa beside him, Xavier nods, and you grin at them both.

“Noted,” Sylus chuckles.

Rafayel’s less convinced. “Since when?!”

“Since forever, Raf. I like lilies too, so I didn’t say anything, ‘kay?” You beckon him back to the lounge, ignoring his splutters of disbelief. “C’mere, let me introduce you to everyone.”

The man slinks to your side like a reluctant shadow, and your hands find your hips. “This is Zayne. Xavier,” you point out, putting faces to names; Rafayel’s heard stories about each. Then you nod towards Sylus. “Over there’s Skye.”

From his place by the window, Sylus lifts a hand in greeting.

“So… yeah,” you finish. Oh, wait! “Guys, this is—”

“They know who I am,” Rafayel shrugs, his fame apparently heavy on his shoulders. He glances around the room for validation, but he gets none, so he tries again. “You do know who I am, right?”

“Sorry,” Xavier admits with an awkward smile, glancing back at Sylus: you?

The man has to think about it. You know for a fact he’s traded more than one of Rafayel’s paintings for a profit, but he smirks and gives an even more exaggerated shrug than the artist himself.

Really?

“You’re Rafayel,” Zayne states plainly.

“Yeah! See, I told you, cutie—”

“You slipped on a paintbrush and checked yourself into Akso, right? The nurses still talk about it.”

Rafayel’s enthusiasm drains. He looks conflicted as he mulls over the additional information. “In, like, a good way?” he hazards.

Zayne stares back at him, wielding silence like a scalpel before cutting deeper with a: “…sure.”

You bite back a smile. Leaving the two to discuss the finer details of Rafayel’s notoriety at the hospital, you wander over to the kitchen, where you fish out a vase from the back of a cupboard. You fill it, set it down on the counter, then reach for Sylus’s bouquet. There’s a black satin ribbon; you untie it.

“Are you sure this is a good idea, sweetie?” asks the man himself, joining you discreetly.

The others can’t really hear you— they’re still talking. “What,” you smirk, retrieving your scissors from a drawer, “you worried Xavier’s gonna arrest you?”

Sylus laughs lowly, quietly. “That’s adorable.”

“Good.” You pick up a flower and trim a leaf from the stem. “Because even if he wanted to—” you wave it, just short of his face— “I’d protect you, ok?”

He regards the flower beneath his nose. Smiles smugly. “These can be toxic, sweetie.”

“Really? Whoops.” You put it down, then snatch up a lily from Rafayel’s bouquet. “En Garde!”

“These too.”

“What the hell?”

The flame-red flower drops from your fingers, and Sylus laughs more sincerely. “Stick to roses, kitten. Or…” He moves his hand over his deconstructed bouquet, his Evol pruning the rest of the leaves from the stems. A tendril of it gathers the flowers, delivering them to him so he can hold them out to you with a flourish. “Live dangerously. Who am I to judge?”

You take them, then plop them into the vase. “Cute.”

“I’m here all week,” he grins. “You’d better wash your hands, hmm?”

With a hmph of agreement, you turn to the sink. You spend half a minute, rubbing soap and warm water over your hands, and when you turn back around— still drying them— something is different. The lilies are gone. Sylus is looking at you, innocuous.

“Real mature, Skye.”

He makes no effort to defend himself. You’re about to tell him that his magic better extend to making flowers reappear when your attention is whipped back to the lounge. The voices from that side have raised, so you lean forward on your kitchen island, watching their owners in a sort of stakeout.

“I take it you have a plan,” Sylus whispers, leaning with you.        

You look at him. He looks back. “The plan is for hosts,” you scold, “not guests.” He’s much too close so you step away, reaching for the vase of daturas and holding them threateningly out, like you’re not afraid to use them. “Go back to the guests, deserter.”

Sylus lifts his hands in surrender, smirking in a way that says he knows he’s met his match. You shoo him further, back into enemy lines, then resume your stakeout. Xavier is sharing his own “embarrassing” medical story— talking about a time where he once passed out from exhaustion while fighting at your side, and you think it’s supposed to make Rafayel feel better.

It doesn’t, of course, and even Zayne is gazing down at the floor, self-conscious.

Sylus meets your eyes across the room, signals with a tip of his head: now's a good time for that master plan, sweetie.

Right. Your plan. Your master plan, yeah.

…

“You should have picked the doctor.”

Sylus’s words are near-silent: for you, not anyone else, and you pretend you don’t hear them. “But no,” he carries on, because he knows you can, “you just had to have the artist.”

“It’s Pictionary!” you snap, drawing all eyes in the room.

Lounging beside you, Sylus feigns an amused surprise, as though he hasn’t just been trying to elicit that exact reaction. On the other sofa, Zayne and Xavier stare, taken more genuinely aback. You give a smile of apology.

“Guys, concentrate!” Rafayel clicks his fingers at you. He’s stood in the centre of the space by a large drawing pad, and he goes back to frantically sketching on it. The drawing is… interesting. Abstract. Maybe even beautiful? But you don’t have a clue what it is.

“Thirty seconds,” warns Zayne, studying the little egg-timer he’s guarding.

You tilt your head at the drawing. There’s maybe a— wait, where did those extra colours come from? Where did he even get those pens? Anyway… there’s a circle. “A globe?” you guess. “Earth! No? Umm… oh! The sun! The moon!”

Rafayel shakes his head with every suggestion, adding even more intricate, unhelpful scribbles. Is that a fifth pen?! You nudge your other teammate, calling for back-up.

Sylus regards the drawing listlessly. “A unicorn.”

“What?!” Rafayel’s tone has reached a pitch that almost makes you wince. “No! C’mon, are you even trying?”

“No,” Sylus lilts with a pleasant smile, lifting the drink he’s been nursing to his lips.

You kick his foot. “A bowl of fruit!” you exclaim, determined to make up for the lack of enthusiasm. “A plate? A plate with food? Breakfast! Lunch! Dinner!”

“Time’s up,” Zayne interrupts, and it’s a mercy, really; you deflate with a sigh.

Rafayel puts his hands on his hips as he takes a step back to observe his work. He tucks four fine-liners back into his pocket— purses his lips as though he really can’t see a problem— and he’s keeping you all in suspense.

Sylus is up in an instant, stealing a card from where it’s been discarded on the coffee table. He reads the answer, then rolls his eyes. The original pen was also abandoned, so he plucks it up, then strides to the drawing pad.

He draws an oval. Then a triangle.

“A fish! A fish!” you cry out.

“You’re good at this, sweetie,” Sylus grins. He puts the lid on the pen with a click before dropping it into Rafayel’s hand.

“Is it my turn?” Xavier asks, trying to relieve the tension of the room. He gets up and smiles as Rafayel passes him the pen. “Your drawing is pretty. The composition is really—”

“Don’t,” Rafayel says. “Like, thanks? But don’t.”

“Fair enough,” Xavier chuckles.

You all prepare for the next round: Zayne handing you the egg-timer, Xavier re-organising the stack of prompt cards. Sylus takes a photo of the drawing pad before ambling back over— a moping Rafayel in tow— and they both sink down either side of you. You glance at the latter, giggling. “A fish, Raf? Really?”

“So I didn’t just wanna draw you some basic fish, ok?” The artist crosses his arms with a pout. “But fine, enjoy mediocrity, I guess.”

To your left, Sylus raises his glass in toast to the notion. There’s a noise: Xavier tearing the used page from the pad. You look up. “Xavier, can I have that?”

“Sure.” He brings it over to you.

You look at the drawing again, holding it at arm’s length and rotating it experimentally. You’re seeing a lot, but nothing that screams ‘fish’. There’s a circle, still. Oh! “It’s a fish bowl! Wait, wait, wait— is that Reddie?”

“Yeah!” Rafayel beams.

“Aww!”

The renewed team spirit drops off with Sylus; he’s on his phone, not paying attention. He seems to sense your scrutiny because he peers up, gives a ghost of a smile, then returns to whatever he’s doing. Meanwhile, Xavier is ready for his turn, so he signals for you to start the timer. You give him a thumbs up as you turn it over. “Go!”

He starts drawing.

“A car,” Zayne guesses after all of five seconds. Correct. Next. “A river? No. Oh. A snake.” Yes. “A cupcake?” Also yes. (In fairness, he was never going to struggle with that one.) “A person? Ok. Oh, a scientist, no? Ah, a doctor.” Yes again, and really— what?

Zayne continues to list correct answers, though thankfully, that’s the last of the coincidences. You watch on, vaguely in awe, until you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. You check it casually, aware that Sylus is next to you, looking down at it too.

It’s a text from him: The drawing… Can I have it?

You glance up at him subtly, meeting his eyes and giving a discreet yet firm shake of your head. He frowns. You’re not having this debate here, now, so you let your gaze return to the drawing pad while idly retrieving your drink.

A few seconds later, there’s another text: Found buyer

Then another: Quarter of a mil

You almost choke on that drink.

“Umm… cutie?” Rafayel asks, poking you. He points at the timer you’ve left on the coffee table, and the top half is empty.

“Shit, yeah. That’s time!” you call.

Xavier stops drawing. The small, crude sketches behind him have reached double digits. He looks really proud. “Great! How many was that?”

His eyes find you. Zayne and Rafayel’s, too. Were you supposed to be counting? Uh—

“Eleven,” says Sylus, and it’s way too smug to be a lie.

“Awesome!” Xavier flips the drawing pad over to where you’ve been tallying point totals. He adds eleven marks to one side. “That’s—” he counts both— “ah, thirty-three to nine.”

A silence falls over the room. Unsure of what else to do, you give a half-hearted round of applause and Xavier laughs awkwardly, still humble, despite it all. “I think we’re kinda done with Pictionary, yeah?” you suggest, rising from your seat. “I should probably get started on food, anyway.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.”

The insistence came from Xavier, and you freeze suspiciously; he’s never turned down free food.

“You’ve already done so much,” he explains, “setting this all up for us. You should relax, really! Leave it to me.”

The word ‘relax’ is not synonymous with the image of Xavier anywhere near your kitchen, but he’s looking at you so earnestly, blue eyes brimming with warmth, and what are you supposed to say? No thanks, Xavier— I value my life? Everyone’s watching you. Gods help you. “That’s really sweet, Xavier. Thanks.”

Your fellow Hunter’s smile widens even more. He heads off to the kitchen, a spring to his step that makes your heart sink with dread. “Actually—” you glance at your ex-teammates— “could you two go help him? Zayne and I’ll tidy up over here.”

Rafayel and Sylus do as they’re asked, even though their expressions remind you that cooking is not, typically, a three-man job. It’s tactical, though. You wanted a moment alone with Zayne. “Are you ok?” you ask, once the others are out of earshot. “I know this must all be a lot. The guys can be, well… yeah.”

He knows what you mean, right?

Zayne has slipped away from the couch; he’s crouched on the floor, collecting a few prompt cards that have wandered astray. He glances up at you, pushing his glasses back on his nose. “I’m ok,” he assures with a fond smile. “Thank you, though.”

“You’re welcome.” He hands you the cards and you slot them back into their deck. Then you turn to the drawing pad. “You and Xavier make a good team, huh?”

The doctor straightens to his full height. “Mmm. It helped that we didn’t spend the entire game comparing the size of our… drawing abilities.” 

You laugh unashamedly. The pen’s still at-hand, so you pick it up— reward another point.

Zayne chuckles.

“Food’s gonna be a while.”

You both turn, following the voice back to Sylus, who has apparently decided he’s had his fill of kitchen duty. What was that— a minute? He seems to have anticipated your dissatisfaction, because he’s brought a bribe with him: the box of chocolates that had come with his bouquet. It’s already open and he holds it out, tempting you.

He’s right— you don’t know when you’ll next be eating— so you select a heart-shaped chocolate, popping it into your mouth with a smile and a muffled: “thanks.”

Sylus smiles back. Then he holds the box out to Zayne. “Doctor?”

It takes a nod of encouragement from you to prompt Zayne into taking something. He chooses a white chocolate truffle, mumbles his own thanks, but Sylus doesn’t relent— not yet. He shakes the box slightly, incitingly, and he doesn’t move it away until Zayne takes two more.

Your physician shoots you a surreptitious smile as Sylus falls back onto the couch, content he’s won your hearts, and that he won’t be sent back to the kitchen anytime soon. His long fingers lift another chocolate from the box, and he meets your eyes as he slips it slowly past his lips, humming like he’s enjoying himself.

You cross your arms, unimpressed. He gives you the least convincing look of innocence you’ve ever seen.

There’s an exclamation from the kitchen: “Hey, where did my flowers go!?” 

Shit. You hastily push the drawing pad aside then scurry over to assist Rafayel. You don’t have a plan, exactly; it’s not like you can help him look for them. “Umm… they’re around, Raf. I moved them somewhere safer, that’s all.”

“Where?”

“Uh—”

“Does it matter?” Sylus speaks from behind you, because he and Zayne are close at your heels. “She said they’re somewhere safe.” He leans on the kitchen island. “Don’t you trust her?”

Rafayel scoffs. “I trust her plenty.”

“So prove it. Drop it.”

“Skye,” you caution, “stop.”

Sylus does stop, but not because you asked. He’s done enough already, hasn’t he? Rafayel is bristling with indignance— a lit fuse— and behind him, Xavier sneakily checks the trash can, looking relieved at what he doesn’t find. He gives you a subtle glance: Where actually are the flowers?

You lift a shoulder an inch: Beats me!

There’s a soft, almost imperceptible crackle, and it draws your eyes to the vase of daturas between you all. They’ve caught light— their petals twisting, darkening, within larger flowers of fire.

“Rafayel!” you gasp. “No, no, no, the fire alarm!”

The torched flowers are encased, all of a sudden, in a fine layer of shimmering frost. Sylus blinks down at them, unmoved by their destruction. Zayne’s hand is still outstretched, snowflakes etched over his palm. Then something… odd happens. The ice doesn’t stop. It spreads over the rest of the kitchen island, to all of your bewilderment.

“Zayne?” Your voice is fraught with worry, but you don’t give a damn about your kitchen.

The man winces, and you so rarely see him out of control. The silver-white patterns have crawled up his wrist, and the ice continues to spread; even Sylus steps back. Sharp, jagged crystals start to form— inching out towards everyone.

“Zayne!” you try again.

His chest rises as he drags air through his teeth; it looks like it hurts, but the ice does stop. The others are still, suspended by momentary uncertainty, and you rush to Zayne’s side, taking his hand.

“What the hell was that?” Rafayel remarks, shaking away his surprise and thawing an icicle that’s way too close for comfort.

“He wouldn’t have needed to use his Evol if you hadn’t used yours.”

It’s Xavier, strangely— you would have expected Sylus. The Hunter’s tone is gentle as always, but there’s something behind it, this time: a frustration that lends an edge.

Rafayel hears it too. “Hey, I’m not the one who started this!” He points to Sylus. “He—”

“Has been lighting fires all evening,” Xavier finishes. “But at least his were only figurative.”

Sylus laughs, and it’s the kind of laugh where you just know he’s vying to make things worse. “Look at that,” he says, “the boy next door can bite.”

Xavier’s eyes sharpen. Beside you, Zayne slips his hand from yours. It’s an instinct you know well. This moment is volatile, and you have to be ready. It could go a dozen different ways; it’s just waiting for a spark.

“Guys,” you manage to get out, “please, just… everyone, take a breath, ok? Everything’s fine, we just have to—”

A spark.

There’s smoke. Actual smoke. “Xavier, behind you!” Zayne alerts.

It’s creeping out of the oven and Xavier turns— eyes wide— to open its door before any of you can stop him. Thicker smoke billows out, filling the air, and you all scramble away from it. The fire alarm triggers. You think Rafayel’s shouting something, but you can’t really hear him. Then Sylus is shouting. Maybe even Zayne. The alarm is piercing your ears and making you dizzy— or is it the smoke?

You feel a hand on your shoulder and suddenly everything changes.

There’s cool air, brushing over your skin, and it’s dark; you’re outside the building. You can still hear the alarm, shrill but further away, and your window is easy to spot: there’s a red light flashing behind it. Sylus leans into your vision, saying your name.

“Stay here,” he tells you, “alright?”

He’s gone in another moment, lost to a flicker of crimson-black darkness.

Gods, you’re so stupid.

…

You sit on a short wall outside of your building, and the street is full of people. You recognise most of them: neighbours. Every single one is mad at you. You’re all waiting for the alarm to cut out— for the all-clear to be given. The fire wasn’t that serious in the end, but there’s still a procedure. You would know; this isn’t exactly your first evacuation.

The guys are safe, which is good, because it means you can kill them later. They’ve all gotten lost in the throng, and your neighbours can keep them. Maybe they’ll kill them for you.  

“Hey, cutie.”

You were staring down at your feet, but you look up at Rafayel’s voice. He’s coming towards you, evoking a sense of déjà vu, because he’s clutching a bouquet of flame lilies. That’s… the bouquet of flame lilies. How?

“Skye gave ‘em back to me,” he explains, chuckling at your expression, and he’s close enough now to hold the flowers out to you. “I don’t know where he was keeping them. His Evol’s weird, huh?”

“Yeah,” you say timidly, taking the bouquet and gazing down into the petals; they still smell sweet.

Rafayel sits next to you, shuffling close, and he leans his head on your shoulder with a tired sigh. You want to be mad at him. You really, really do— but you’re suddenly not.

“I’m sorry, Rafayel.” The admission barely makes it out of your throat.

You feel his head lift. “You’re sorry?”

“I know it was just a misunderstanding,” you speak into the flowers, “but tonight… wasn’t what you were expecting, I get it. I mean, I kinda threw you into the deep end with all this. You didn’t know you were gonna be around other people, and I—”

“Whoa— cut that out, yeah? You’re killing me, cutie. I spend the whole evening causing trouble, and you’re gonna take all the blame? Nope. Not happening. It was a collaborative effort at least, ok?”

You giggle. “Ok.”  

“Good.” His head slumps back down on your shoulder, and yours tilts to rest against it. “Thanks, though. Really,” he whispers, so quiet you almost don’t notice.

Footsteps and familiar voices draw you from the intimacy of the moment. The others are wandering back to you, having finally escaped the veritable mob of your neighbours. They all look tired.

Xavier settles down on the other side of you, and Zayne sits beside him. Sylus takes a seat next to Rafayel with a huff, but he’s not half as unhappy as he’s pretending to be.

All of you sit in silence, gazes flitting between your window— where there are still glimpses of moving figures— and everyone else who’s been evacuated. For the first time all evening, the quiet isn’t tense. It’s peaceful. Easy.

“We’ll do better next time,” Zayne speaks softly.

Next time? You scoff. “Do any of you actually want there to be a next time?”

“I had fun,” Sylus chuckles. He’s taken his coin from his pocket, and he flips it, amusing himself.

“I had fun too,” Xavier grins.

“Cooking again, Xavier?” quips one of your neighbours, as they happen to pass by.

The man beside you laughs, but you can tell it’s forced. Your hand finds his; you give it a little squeeze, letting him know that it wasn’t his fault. His heart was in the right place. It’s always in the right place.

You nudge Rafayel away from you so you can sit up straighter, your free hand rubbing your arm, caressing prickled skin. You’re about to ask for a jacket when something heavy drapes over your shoulders. It’s a coat— still warm— and its owner is stood behind you; you didn’t even notice him get up.

“Thanks, Sylus,” you smile.

All eyes turn to you. What are they—?

Oh.

[captainlunaxmen]

Let's Try Again

Charlie Weasley x reader

This is a repost since the old blog doesn't work anymore. 🥰Also if you want to be tagged in future Charlie's stories let me know❤️

Summary: worst day of your life? Not if Charlie can help it.

Warnings: none I think, period pain maybe is a warning? Maybe if you got bad cramps like me, (hi, let's suffer together)

Worst day ever.

Worst. Day. Ever.

First, my period started this morning. It would've been okay if it weren't for the fact that I'm one of those lucky ones with the most painful cramps. I couldn't call in sick at work because my boss is an asshole, so I had to spend the whole day at work, only to be fired at the end of it.

I arrive at home late, it's almost 11 and Charlie isn't here yet. Thankfully, I don't want him to see me like this. We haven't been dating long enough for him to see me like this.

I take a deep breath, and I go take a shower, cleaning myself will definitely help, at least a little bit.

While I shower, I try not to think about losing my job today and having, basically, no option in the immediate future. God... what if Charlie breaks up with me, too? The day got worse and worse, so might as well...

I shake my head, showing that thought far, far away from me.

Once I'm clean and comfortably dressed, I decide to make something sweet. Cooking usually helps... let's see.

I go to the kitchen and just get to work.

I want to make some honey muffin, they're Charlie's favourite.

I start by melting the butter with the honey.

So far, so good, I made this recipe a million times, and it should go smoothly.

And...

I talked too soon. Fuck. How did I burn the butter? How!?

I go to grab the pan, but it's too hot.

"Fuck!" I basically scream.

"Darling? You okay?"

I turn around, my eyes land on Charlie putting down his bag.

"Shit.." I mutter "sorry.. I... it's nothing,"

"What happened?" He asks softly, walking closer to me.

"Nothing," I say, trying my best to hold back my tears, "I just... burned the butter..."

"Let me see," he gently holds my injured hand in his, "it's not that bad. Don't worry. I'll grab some lotion. Wait here, love"

He kisses my cheek and walk to our bedroom.

Shit... he probably think I'm weak now. Always complaining about nothing... okay no... stop with these thoughts. He won't think that... stop.. stop.

I can't hold back any longer and I just cry, I try to wipe away some tears by the time Charlie walks back in, but he's already here.

"Hey..." he puts the lotion on the counter and pulls me in for hug "my love, what's wrong? I'm no doctor so maybe your hand is worse than I thought? And I should be an expert on burns"

That makes me chuckle, first vague smile of the day... all thanks to Charlie.

"C'mon. Let's sit down" he walks me to the sofa and sits us down. "Wanna tell me what's wrong?"

"I... I got my period this morning" I start to explain.

"They didn't let you stay home, did they? Assholes..." he comments "I'm sorry, love"

"Then..." I say and I see him surprised "Then... they made me do extra work and they fired... they fired me."

"What?" He exclaims, "Love.. " he pulls me to him again and kisses my head as his hands caresses my back.

"I wanted to base something, but apparently I couldn't even do that right.." I mutter.

"Hey, none of that." He says cupping my cheeks to make me look at him "look at me, you have all the right to feel like this. Just don't let it put you down. You're wonderful. Alright? Absolutely wonderful. And this is just one bad day. One. I'll help you find a new job, once your period cramps are over, of course, I mean I'm not letting you do anything until your period is done, it's the only time I can spoil you and I will take advantage of that" he chuckles.

"Okay.." I softly say, "I just..."

"Ssh. I know. I know, it sucks. Trust me. Remember, it's just one day." He looks me deep in the eyes, "one"

"You're right... thank you"

"You're forgetting something," he grins.

"What?"

"You said it to me first" he winks and stand up, holding my healthy hand and leading me back to the kitchen where he puts some lotion on the injured one.

"There," he says kissing it.

"I burnt the butter..." I say looking at the pan.

"It's no problem," he throws away the burnt mixture. "Let's try again. What do we have to do first?"

"We've made these a million times..." I laugh.

"Yeah, but I have no memory, so... what do we do first?" He's smiling like and idiot and I can't help but laugh again. "Stop laughing at me, love." He fake-complains.

"We have to melt the butter and the honey," I explain to him.

"Thank you" I say to Charlie once we're cuddle up in the bed with our freshly made muffins.

"Love.."

"No, thank you. Really." I kiss his cheek.

He sweetly smiles at me, leaning down to kiss my lips.

"Anytime, my love."

I guess, it's not the cooking that makes me feel better... is the after, when I get to eat the sweets we made with Charlie.

"Tomorrow is a new day, we'll try again. Okay?" He says.

"Yeah... let's try again" I put my head on his shoulder, enjoying his presence.

[lucywritesagain]

Between the lines ┈・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱ Part 2

꒰ა ˚₊ ✧・┈﹕Stephen Strange Masterlist ꒰ ᐢ｡- ༝ -｡ᐢ ꒱ Navigation ﹕┈・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

Please note that this story is a repost from my old blog @lucywrites02.

Summary: You were supposed to work for Stephen for a few weeks and then move on to do your own thing. But you stayed and it was the best decision you have ever made in your entire life. Aka your first date with the sorcerer supreme.

You can read part 1 of this story here

You shrieked, almost tripping on your own feet. You couldn’t see a thing, but thankfully Stephen was holding you tightly, navigating your steps. He was the reason you were going through the city of New York blindfolded, but you didn't even mind it. The sorcerer promised you a fun first date and even though you were the one who asked Stephen out he insisted on organising everything. Apparently The Sorcerer Supreme had come up with a great idea after your little talk in the restaurant all those weeks ago and just waited for the right moment to execute his plan. 

Stephen has been nothing but patient, waiting for you to get better and being there for you as a friend during the last 3 months. And you sure  hoped that the wait was worth being dragged around the town with a blindfold on. This must have looked hilarious to all the people who walked past you. You giggled, trying to imagine this scene- one of the most popular heroes dragging a random person through the streets of New York, smiling like a little child.

“We’re almost there.” The doctor announced with excitement in his voice. He can’t remember a time when he felt so happy and carefree- and your date hasn’t even truly begun. 

When you asked Stephen out on a date earlier that day he was nothing but thrilled. When the topic of your potential romantic relationship came to light that one night in his favourite Thai restaurant neither of you actually expected it to happen. Stephen insisted that you should take care of your mental health and has been incredibly supportive. It made you fall for him even more, but you feared that his patience would run thin and he wouldn’t be interested in you anymore by the time you decided you were ready to give him a chance . Thank the Vishanti you were very wrong. 

Suddenly you stopped walking- or rather Stephen stopped you. The city was always a busy place full of a variety of sounds, but you couldn’t recognise any of the noises around you. There were people laughing and music playing over some random sounds of buttons and balls hitting the ground but that only made you even more confused.

“We are here!” Stephen exclaimed, carefully untying the blindfold. “Okay, you can open them!”

You did as he asked and your eyes met with a hallway full of LED lights and dozens of different arcade games. You covered your mouth with your hand, feeling even more excited as before. 

"Oh my Vishanti." You gasped, turning to face your… boyfriend? You didn't want to make Stephen uncomfortable by putting a wrong label on your relationship just yet, but the thought of calling him your boyfriend made you all warm on the inside. The doctor smiled, offering you his hand which you gladly took and so the two of you made your way to purchase the tickets. 

"There are so many things in here I don't know where to start." You said with a huge grin on your face. Your date has just begun and you knew it was going to be an amazing night. 

"Hmm, we could walk around and see what we like the most." The sorcerer proposed, gently squeezing your hand as you went deeper into the hallway. "Or better!" He continued with a brand new dose of excitement in his voice. "Let's go look at the prizes first. You can tell me what you want so that I can win it for you." 

"That is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, Stephen." Giving his hand a light squeeze you leaned closer and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. 

The doctor’s heart jumped in his chest when he felt it. His face was surely covered in bright red. 

“Don’t be too excited. I haven’t won anything for you yet.” The sorcerer said, swaying your joined hands as you walked through the praises section. Even though you had dozens of amazing things in front of you, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of your date. The blue light coming from the arcade games behind you made his cheekbones stand out. The silver strands in his hair seemed to be sparkling like glitter. And his eyes… You loved Stephen’s baby blues and now they looked like little diamonds, reflecting the light around them and creating tiny rainbow areolas. 

“It’s the thought that counts.” 

“I need you to remember that you said that in case I won’t be able to actually win anything.” The doctor joked, making you giggle. 

The two of you stopped at the shelf with prizes for 2000 points or more. Most of the stuff were giant squishmallows and other plushies that were bigger than your twin sized bed. In the corner you spotted a polaroid camera for 5000 points and exhaled loud enough for your companion to hear it. Stephen’s eyes followed your gaze, making the sorcerer smirk. 5000 points couldn’t be so hard to get, right? But before he could ask if that was what you wanted you pointed at a medium sized teddy bear with a little red cape. A teddy bear that resembled Stephen. As much as the doctor disliked seeing his merchandise he had to admit that this plushie was kinda cute. They even gave it his goatee and his hair looked pretty well.

“I want that one.” You said with a giggle, knowing very well what your friend thought about it.  You leaned your head on Stephen’s shoulder and threw your hands around his waist. “Please?” 

“From all of those things you want that one?” The sorcerer supreme laughed, embracing you as well.  You could feel the vibration in his chest as his laugh echoed through the alley you were standing in. “It’s not even 1000 points…ouch.” His smile fell, pretending to be hurt by this unfair arrangement. . “I’m worth at least 1500.”

You couldn’t help, but wheeze, hiding your face in his chest as you tried to steady your breath.

“You’re a funny one, mister doctor.” With a little pat on his shoulder you took a step away from his arms to point at the shelf. “What do you want?” You asked, playing with the hem of your shirt with your free hand. “And don’t you dare say you don’t want anything!” 

Your friend looked at you and then back at the display with a playful smile on his face. “That one.” He pointed at a little box in the 1000 points section. “I want that one.”

“You want a funko pop that looks like-”  the idea of Stephen bringing that little toy home was so ridiculous to you you almost cried from trying to contain your laughter. “This is hilarious.”

“Yes, I want it.” The doctor pulled your hand to try and move you to the next part of your adventure. You didn’t protest much and quickly followed him. Stephen would get you that ridiculous plushie and the camera. All he wanted in return was your happiness and that funko pop. “You know-” the sorcerer continued as the two of you made your way to an automaton with the classic Pac Man game. “Wong said once that it would be fun if he had his own merchandise. This toy will be the perfect gift for him and me.”

“We can start with this game. Play a few rounds together to get more points and then play separately?” The man  gestured for you to sit down, which you gladly did and inserted a few tickets into the machine after you gave him an excited nod. 

This night was getting better and better with every minute. You could hear Stephen saying “I will put it on my nightstand” as he sat down beside you on the chair that was too small for two people, making you slide. Instead of scoothing over and giving you some space, Stephen took the entire seat and pointed at his lap.

“If you’re okay with that you could sit here…” The sorcerer proposed with a blush covering his entire face. “Or you could just sit on the chair and I will-”

You didn’t let him finish and just sat down on his lap, putting your head on his shoulder to get more comfortable. “We switch after every round?” You asked, waiting for Stephen to hit start. You could hear his heart beating faster. You found it cute.

“What? Oh yes, of course.” And then the game finally started.

“No wait!” You pulled Stephen back by his hand, laughing like crazy. Apparently the sorcerer was very skilled at arcade games. He had so many tickets it would be enough for two Doctor Strange teddy bears and probably some small keychain. You’ve been playing for hours and it was probably well after midnight.  Stephen wanted to go get the prices and leave, but you needed just a few more points to get him that funko pop and another gift. “I need 200 more points!” 

“But you already have enough for my mini Wong.” Your date flopped dramatically on the bench behind him, pulling you onto his lap for the 100th time that night. You liked that a lot, but you were on a mission! You desperately needed to get those points. 

You giggled, seeing some breadcrumbs- remains of your dinner at the arcade- on Stephen’s shirt he didn’t swipe off. With one move of your hand they were gone, but your palm stayed glued to  the sorcerer’s chest. He looked up at you and covered your hand with his, his thumb gently drawing circles into your skin. Of course it wasn’t the first time you two were this close, but it never failed to make you feel warm on the inside. You were curious how Stephen’s kiss would feel. 

The sorcerer thought about kissing you multiple times during your date, but he didn’t want to rush things. It would happen eventually- maybe when you come back home or maybe in two months. It didn’t matter to neither Stephen nor you. You had plenty of time and simply wanted to enjoy the moment. 

“Give me 10 minutes with galaga and I will meet you at the register with your mini Wong and a surprise.” You said, putting a stray silver hair behind his ear and leaned down to give him a quick forehead kiss.

“10 minutes?” The doctor sighed heavily, wiping an invisible tear.  “How will I survive it?”

“You’re a dork, Stephen Strange.” You stood up and headed to get your last points. “See you in 10 minutes!!” You shouted and smiled when he blew you a kiss. Anyone who saw you probably thought you guys were drunk or something. But it didn’t matter how crazy you looked and what other people thought of you. You were happy- Stephen was, too.

Stephen didn’t want to let you go. He couldn’t imagine a moment away from you, but right now he was glad that you were doing your own thing. It gave him the opportunity of buying you that polaroid camera with his tickets. His pockets were filled with little pieces of paper and it was so hard to hide them from you. Of course you knew he had more points than he needed to get you that plushie, but you had no idea he had a secret stash in the pockets of his jeans. He might have cheated once or twice to get them, but some of those games were rigged anyways! At least that was what he chose to believe. 

Stephen couldn’t help but smile as he walked down the hallway to the register. At first he thought that a date at the arcade would be a mistake- it was something for young people, not two very much adult sorcerers- but thankfully Wong convinced him to take you there. The doctor had never had so much fun on a date. Never. Most of his outings were very generic- a dinner at a restaurant, watching a movie in the cinema. Not that those things were boring, but it just wasn’t it sometimes. It wasn’t as exciting as this. For the first time in years Stephen felt young and carefree. It was something he really needed. His job was stressful so it was really nice to just be normal for once. 

“I would like numbers 10 and 16, pretty please.”  The doctor said, putting his tickets on the counter. 

“Okay, I know it’s been more than 10 minutes, but the freaking machine wouldn’t give me my points!” You greeted him, waving your little bundle of tickets.

“That is outrageous.” The sorcerer stood by the exit door, hands behind his back hiding your gifts. “Unacceptable.” 

“I know!” You laughed and ran to the register to get the prizes for Stephen. You were watching as one of the workers fetched your stuff and didn’t notice that your date was now standing right behind you.

“So what’s the surprise?” He whispered into your ear, making you jump.

“Dear Vishanti, Stephen!” You shrieked. The sorcerer hid his face in your shoulder, trying not to laugh and failing miserably. He laid little kisses on your cheek as an apology and you just couldn’t be annoyed when he was acting like a total softie. “You’re lucky you’re cute, doctor!”

“Grandma was right all along- this pretty face would help me get away with everything.” He murmured into your cheek. If his hands weren’t occupied he would have embraced you the moment he saw you again. 

“You’re so stupid.” you laughed, turning your face a little bit to the left to be met with Stephen’s angelic smile. Your noses were almost touching and if you moved just a little bit, your lips would, too. “I like that in a man.”

“Okay, lovebirds! Here’s your stuff!” The boy behind the counter gave you your prizes, packed in simple grey paper bags which you quickly snatched to hide behind your back. Stephen thanked him and you guys left the arcade with a blink of an eye.

There were many benefits of being a sorcerer. One of them was the ability to create portals to almost anywhere in the world. Yes, this day was amazing, but you were so happy to be back in the sanctum. It was good that Stephen transported you right to your room because you wouldn’t want to wake up Wong. You would get an earful for that.

“Close your eyes!” you ordered when the two of you were comfortably sitting on your bed.

Stephen did as you asked and waited for your next command. He could hear you fiddling with some stuff, trying to open a box he saw earlier. As much as he was excited to receive his mini Wong, Stephen wondered what else you got him. 

He felt something in his hand. It wasn’t heavy. All Stephen could deduce was that this thing was shaped like a rectangle and had some sort of a cable attached to it. You put the box with his mini Wong on top of it so he wouldn’t see the surprise when he opened his eyes. 

“You can look!” You said cheerfully, making your lover’s smile widen. 

“Oh, he is so going on my nightstand.” Stephen laughed and opened the box, letting the other gift fall on his bed. He didn’t want to see it just yet- it was supposed to be a surprise. The doctor couldn’t remember when was the last time he felt such joy from getting something so silly. He felt like a kid opening his birthday presents. But somehow this felt so much better. He was a grown man and it was rare to have a moment for himself- to just care about his own happiness for once. And you made it possible.

“I will put him in my shirt pocket and carry him around until Wong notices.” He said and put the toy aside. His gaze travelled down to his sheets to finally see what it was that you gave him. All he could do was gasp. “No way.”

“I know your last cassette player broke when that demon paid us a visit and demolished our living room.” You said, fiddling with your thumbs. “I know how much you liked it and when I saw it at the arcade I just had to take it with me.”

“I-” The sorcerer stuttered, holding the player close to his chest. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you!” He whispered, hugging you tightly. 

“I’m happy you like it.”

“Like? I love it!” I love you, Stephen thought- the smile never leaving his face. “Okay, it’s my turn!” He announced, picking his bags off the floor. 

“Stephen the bear is now officially yours.” The sorcerer giggled, placing the plushie in your arms. You immediately embraced it, squeezing the life out of it. “I see I have some serious concurrence.” He joked, pointing between you and the teddy bear you were holding so dearly. 

“No one could ever compare with you, Stephen.” You said, giving your lover a kiss on the cheek. “Although I have to admit…. This guy is really huggable.” 

“Oookay, to the next gift.” Stephen blinked, taking the plushie out of your arms and throwing it on his pillow, making you wheeze. You knew he was just playing- he was being so silly and carefree today. You loved seeing him like that. “I saw you looking at it. I knew you wouldn’t ask for it, but I wanted you to have it.” 

He fished into the bag and pulled out a medium sized box. You recognized it immediately.

“You gave me a camera?” You gasped, covering your mouth with your hands. “You didn’t have to!” You jumped into his arms, hugging him as thigh as you could. 

“Well, I  said I wanted you to have it.” He murmured, laying gentle kisses on your head. 

You squeezed his waist once more and pulled away to open the box. You quickly inspected the camera to see if anything was missing and when you were sure that this thing was in a good condition you put the film in and turned it on. 

“Wanna take a photo?” You asked with excitement in your voice. There’s no better way to document your happiness than taking a bunch of photographs. 

“Of course.” Stephen smiled, pulling you into his lap- his arms wandered around your waist to keep you steady while his cheek was glued to your own. He couldn’t wait to hang this photo somewhere in the sanctum. He will make a copy to keep it with him when he’s away from you. To keep you close to his heart. And he didn’t care how cheesy it was.

You put your hand up, stretching it as far as you could and clicked the button. The film came out of your polaroid as soon as you heard the soul of the flash. Stephen took the pic out and shook it, too excited to wait.

“You’re actually not supposed to shake it.” You said, taking the photo out of his hand.

“I’m not?” 

“Not really. Let’s just put it next to your mini Wong and wait.” You said and did just that.

"There's one more gift I have for you." You whispered with a sprinkle of hesitation and shyness in your voice. You were really nervous about this one. Getting off of Stephn’s lap you took a seat on the opposite side of the bed, making sure you were still close.

"3 gifts?" Stephen smirked, blushing like stupid. "What have I done to deserve them all?" 

"You did a lot, Stephen." You have thanked him plenty of times. For letting you stay in the sanctum longer than it was necessary. For helping you start therapy again. For being kind to you and for making you fall in love with him. "You deserve so much more than I can give you right now."

"Meeting you is the best gift I have ever gotten." He said, squeezing your hand and bringing it to his lips he laid a soft kiss on your skin. It made you shiver in the best way possible. And maybe, just maybe your eyes became a little glassy. "And although I will surely love whatever else you will give me, your presence will always be my favourite gift." 

Stephen smiled and closed his eyes again, awaiting your next surprise. After his little speech you had no doubts- you were in love with Stephen Strange. And it felt fantastic.

You could feel his thumb drawing small circles onto your palm. You smiled, with tears threatening to fall from your eyes. You quickly freed your hand from Stephen's grip and gently put it on his cheek. You leaned closer. And closer. 

“May I kiss you?” You whispered before your lips could touch. 

The sorcerer opened his eyes to look at you. He could feel your breath on his skin, longing for the taste of your lips. “God, yes.” He exhaled, gently cupping your face in his hands, connecting his lips to yours with a little too much force. 

Your free hand- the one that wasn’t resting on your lover’s cheek- landed on the mattress to keep you from falling. The doctor could feel you smiling into the kiss and his heart threatened to rip his ribcage open. And although he would surely die because of it he would die a happy man.

The kiss- although powerful- didn’t last long. Neither of you dared moving away- your foreheads were connected and you were smiling like crazy. You closed your eyes again, leaning closer to kiss him again.

“Wait!” Stephen whispered, making you freeze. He quickly turned around to face his nightstand and picked up mini Wong to make him face in the other direction. He stole a quick glance at the, now fully developed, photograph of the two of you and he could feel his heart melting. “Okay, you can kiss me now.” He said in a serious voice and you couldn’t help but to laugh. And it was contagious. 

“You’re so silly.” You said in between kisses, still giggling like a little kid. “I love seeing you like that.”

“I love that you make me feel like that.” Stephen whispered into your lips. “Plus I won’t let him look at us  with those round black eyes when we make out. Gross.”

You shook your head, amused by his behaviour and put your arms around his neck. 

“I’m glad I met you, Stephen.” You said, stealing a few more kisses. “Coming here was the best decision I have ever made.”

“And I’m glad you decided to stay.” 

[ackerfics]

yellow — levi ackerman.

— levi ackerman x female reader (wizarding world au | harry potter au)

— warnings: none <3 just fluff

— summary: it’s the day of the ball and a special day at that. one that levi never paid attention to until this year. it’s a day filled with wishing he never took his first breath if it meant his mother’s last when he did. it’s a day of white lilies and the arctic chill of winter wonderlands. a day painted in death. that was until she painted everything yellow.

— word count: 7.5k

— notes: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LEVI ^^ this fic is inspired by two asks who were requesting for an hp au with our beloved captain. it’s been a while since i’ve written something that reminds me of sleepless nights and nostalgia. i tried writing on a different route this time, mainly using levi’s point of view for the entire fic, with some insights on reader here and there. alsooo, my friend told me i give off ravenclaw vibes even tho i was sorted in gryffindor in pottermore so i feel like i connect with the house of blue and bronze more thru this fic.

side note, this is the dress i referenced, i had a hard time finding dress of that aesthetic but everything was worth it in the end because i found one. plus, i’m actually nervous about this one but to hell with it ^^ nonetheless, i hope you enjoy reading this !! consider this as my christmas gift to you. merry christmas, everyone!

reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated !! <3 | my masterlist

repost because tumblr is not my friend rn.

Yellow.

Levi doesn’t have a favourite colour — it’s something he never paid attention to while growing up. If someone were to ask him what he likes during cold days, he’d answer the bitter tang of black tea in a heartbeat. He can easily blurt out the candy his best friends always buys from Honeydukes (apparently, Erwin likes sugar quills just as much as the next wizard roaming in Hogwarts and Farlan adores chocolate frogs, saying that they’re hilarious to eat). Every single memory he created in the castle’s walls remained intact inside Levi’s mind, a vault of precious reels that sometimes play in a loop even when he’s trying so hard to pay attention to the Transfiguration spells McGonagall rapidly fires at their class. There are so many things he can list but he always falls short on one single thing — a fact so vital that some might even say it’s related to one’s personality trait. But Levi doesn’t care. He doesn’t get how someone’s first question in getting to know his character connects to what colour he strongly prefers.

Shades of yellow burst like splatters of paint in his vision.

Yeah, Levi doesn’t have one of those.

If one is part of the most notable pureblood families that became nearly extinct after Voldemort came into power all those years ago, it was expected that choosing a favourite colour became the least of his worries. When someone in search of strong allies comes for the remaining Ackerman wizards on the face of Europe, Levi never had time to think of childhood. His only surviving kin, an uncle by the name of Kenny the Ripper (a ruthless adversary to dark wizards), took him and his cousin under his wing and hid them in places not even the Death Eaters could chase after them. When they were old enough to be placed in Hogwarts, that was the time Kenny disappeared from the planet, never to be heard of again — like he was waiting for the time to get the brats from his hands. He was always saying that Hogwarts was the safest place for runts like them, though he had to wait two years to place Mikasa in the same place he left Levi.

Bullshit is Levi’s take on the matter.

How can he be safe when the fucking Chosen One goes to the same school as him? Even in the same year as his little cousin?

However, having a favourite colour is slowly materialising in front of him in the form of an unlikely individual.

“Is this seat taken?”

A third-year Levi looked up from making another sentence about Shrinking Solutions at a girl with a cheery disposition, who was carrying too many books in her arms. Levi had to squint to prevent himself from being blinded at her smile. It reminded him of the stars, the evening star to be exact. Judging from the books she was holding, she must be another Hufflepuff he didn’t know belonged in his year. After realising that he was staring at her for a good amount of time, Levi quickly looked down on his homework and shook his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her brighten immensely as if she was meant to shine.

“Thank Godric this spot is available. Who knows where I’d have to study if it weren’t.”

Levi discreetly glanced at her. His hand was still poised as if he was writing something, hoping that the girl was too busy organising her things to notice that he had long stopped finishing his paragraph. He had seen her a couple of times while passing the hallways to and from classes. She was always with that rambunctious brown-haired bespectacled person that never seemed to run out of conversation-starters. Now that she placed the books carefully around her spot on the long table, Levi picked up the noticeable shade of celestial blue in her tie.

Ravenclaw.

The House of human potential and wit beyond measure.

But what made Levi completely turn his head to her was the bright sunflower hair tie keeping her hair in a ponytail. Not to be someone who thinks of House stereotypes but finding something completely eye-catching like a sunflower hair tie on anyone that isn’t Hufflepuff painted Levi in bewilderment. Plus, he never knew her or her personality trait. It was just bizarre yet it fits her for some reason.

“Wait, is that Snape’s assigned homework?”

Levi met distinctly-colored eyes and briefly wondered if the overhead lights made her irises shine out of nowhere. He shook himself out of his stupor as the girl raised her eyebrow in curiosity. “I’m sorry,” Levi apologised with a slight shake of his head. “You were saying?”

She chuckled a bit. “What you’re writing on the parchment, it’s for Snape’s paper about Shrinking Solutions, right?”

It was a breath of fresh air. Finally, someone who wasn’t intimidated by the Ackerman name. He knew of his family’s reputation in the Wizarding World, some might say they never belonged to one House unlike other pureblood families or they’re too versed in their fields that they come off as unapproachable. For this particular girl, Levi was slightly shocked that she continued to start a conversation as if he’s a normal student without nobility as his last name.

“Yeah,” Levi found himself nodding, voice still barely a whisper. His eyes tore from her smile to the unfinished words on his parchment.

She sighed indignantly. “I never comprehend how Professor Snape just dumps this on our plates. The number of inches he requires for our essay doesn’t help either. The other unfinished essays on my part are begging to be written now that he assigned this to us.”

Levi nodded wordlessly. “It’s a pile of bullshit.”

“I know, right? Snape never has any mercy on those who aren’t Slytherin. I don’t remember Professor Flitwick favouring a whole class of us once in my life here.”

“Hmm.”

The onyx-haired boy never once looked up from his parchment. Upon hearing that she’s started writing, Levi inwardly let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t like any human interaction at the moment, seeing as he had a deadline to race. He hadn’t gotten past the halfway point of this essay. Taking a book from his pile, he opened to the many uses of Shrinking Solutions, choosing to elaborate on a specific point and hope that Snape would look past the flowery words that he was planning to write and give him a deserving mark. Now that he was slowly losing his touch with reality, Levi let the scratching of his quill flow around him as every word burst into life on his parchment. He could faintly hear someone flipping through a book beside him, also subjecting themselves to productivity. Levi was glad that this Ravenclaw was mindful enough to let them work in peace.

It was pretty uneventful. Minutes turned into hours as Levi finally placed a period in his last sentence. He expelled a breath, feeling the burden on his shoulders lessening as he stretched his arms above his head. One down, too many to go. He had to study for impromptu quizzes set for the following week, plus, he volunteered to help Professor Kettleburn with feeding the animals. With a final sigh, Levi stood up from his seat and tidied his things into his knapsack. The lack of movement in the seat next to him made him stop.

The girl was sleeping over her parchment, folded arms supporting her head. It looked like she had already finished her assignment. Fucking Ravenclaws and their innate talent of making schoolwork look like a piece of cake. An occasional hum came from her and Levi looked around the library to check if somebody heard her snoring. To their luck, the library was empty save for the two of them.

Without thinking about it, Levi gingerly shook her shoulder. “Hey, sunflower, wake up. It’s nearing dinner.” She only shrugged his hand off her shoulder. Levi tried again. “Sunflower.” He shook her shoulder harder albeit still gentle so as not to startle her. “Bloody hell.” Why did he even think this was a good idea — waking her up. She slept like a log. After a couple of attempts, Sunflower finally stirred from her slumber, her eyes squeezing shut before blinking up at an unimpressed Levi. “Good fucking morning, yellow,” he greeted her dryly.

“Yellow?” she murmured groggily, mind still in a drowsy haze as he lifted her head from her arms.

Levi merely rolled his eyes before fixing his knapsack over his shoulders and started making his way to the huge double doors of the library.

The girl was left baffled at the lack of response, her gaze following the onyx-haired wizard out of the library. With that, the Ravenclaw witch finally had her first encounter with the famed Ackerman. Of course, she was curious about him back when they were first years. He always kept to himself most of the time with that brooding expression of his that only rewarded him of one friend his entire stay in Hogwarts (if people could count the relentless pestering he got from one of her Housemates, Farlan Church, as a pact of friendship). Still, she wondered what compelled him to actually speak some words to her, even calling her nicknames (even though the reason was that he doesn’t know her name). Again, the Ravenclaw found herself looking at the huge clock on the library wall. With a start, she stood up and frantically shoved all her borrowed books and parchment into her shoulder bag. Hange would start worrying about her if she entered the Great Hall a minute late for dinner.

“Oh, bollocks, I hope Hange saved me a seat at the table,” she kept muttering until she went out of the chamber.

The next day, Levi got himself a gift from a Ravenclaw boy he knew to be Farlan. He was saying that Levi’s a lucky guy for getting a packet of sweets from one of the prettiest girls in their year, something Levi brushed off with a dismissive wave. It was a small package of sugar cookies from the breakfast earlier that day. It was a dainty gift, something he didn’t mind unless he had his tea with him. What surprised him, however, was the small note hanging from the mouth of the bag.

Thank you for waking me up in time for dinner.

— Yellow

Levi still has the note to this day and he is fucking ashamed of himself for keeping it.

It’s ironic how that nickname stuck when he’s the Hufflepuff one.

He didn’t even know her name at that time.

“Guess we’re partners today.”

For some reason, Snape partnered Levi with Yellow, the girl he woke up in the library a year prior. For their Potions class, they were assigned to learn and make Skele-gro for the day. Levi never comprehended how the Slytherin Head took it upon himself to warn them about the curriculum, how this year was supposed to be for researching poison antidotes before Christmas strikes across the castle. Great, he had to avoid a close encounter with death for his birthday. The potion they were trying to master for the day was just the start of another hectic year under the pointy nose of the dingbat that is Severus Snape. As he was about to flip through the section for Skele-gro, the chair beside him familiarly screeched.

Like deja vu, Levi looked up to the smiling Ravenclaw he nicknamed Yellow.

Levi only hummed and nodded with a blank expression plastered on his face, going back to his skimming. The girl made herself comfortable at his desk, also opening her book to where the detailed recipe for Skele-gro was etched on. He never missed how she kept glancing at him with curious eyes. It was making his skin itch, his temples tingling at the eye contact.

“What?” He couldn’t help but ask, not looking up from reading through the list of ingredients.

“[Name] [Last Name],” Yellow casually supplied.

Levi flickered his eyes to her brilliant ones.

At his furrowed brows, she cleared up, “Thought you didn’t hear it when Professor Snape called for our names, which is why I transferred to your desk. Plus, I never introduced myself in the library last year. It’s just common courtesy since I have an idea of who you are.”

Levi raised an eyebrow, a sneer pulling on his face. “Oh, yeah? Care to tell me what rumour you heard to have an idea about me?” He was expecting something about his uncle or family, how he was practically an orphan like the Chosen One who just entered this year since his said uncle vanished from the face of the planet. He was also expecting along the lines of him being the coldest Hufflepuff, how it was a miracle that such a rude-looking individual got the Sorting Hat shouting Hufflepuff at the top of its lungs (if it had any).

Yellow (he was going to keep calling her that, seeing as she now has a bright dandelion yellow ribbon tying her hair in a low half ponytail) returned the gesture of raising her eyebrow, surprised at the guarded expression on her classmate’s face. She tilted her head, akin to a dog. “I heard your name in the halls too often the past weeks. You’re the top scorer in the last Quidditch game, yes? The one who gave Hufflepuff their win. Some are saying that you’re to thank for having Hufflepuff a place higher than Ravenclaw in the Inter-House.”

Her tone didn’t indicate any bitterness. For the first time in his life, somebody took Levi by surprise. Of course, people were talking about how Hufflepuff dragged Ravenclaw to the ground with a huge point difference. Levi never thought that his points mattered, it was Diggory’s job as their Seeker to win the game. Levi’s voice wavered as he uttered, “Uh, I-I see.” He turned back to his book, cheeks starting to warm.

Yellow giggled before clapping her hands together. “Let’s gather the ingredients, shall we, Mr. Ackerman?”

Levi rolled his eyes. “Please don’t call me that.”

“What should I call you then?”

“I have a name, you know. If you keep calling me that, you’re going to sound like McGonagall when she’s trying to make me speak in class.”

She laughed — a pleasant sound, much to Levi’s surprise. “Well, Levi, can you help me gather the ingredients for this potion?”

Levi blinked at her before standing up from his seat. “Let’s go, then.” When he registered that she wasn’t following him, he turned his head to find her staring at him with a small smile. “Oi, hurry up, Yellow, we don’t have all day.”

“I’m coming! Hey, wait up.”

“You’re too slow. We’re going to run out of the good ones with your pace, you know.”

“Making potions doesn’t have anything to do with how bad an ingredient is. You just have to make sure you know how to adapt when you have one.”

“You Ravenclaws and your idiotic reasonings.”

“Hey! I take great offence to that!”

“Good.”

She sputtered and Levi had to prevent a small smile from surfacing.

The girl named [Name] ignites so many emotions inside him that he thought was impossible. She manages to make him feel everything all at once with one look at her. All it takes is one look and he’s falling deeper into a pit that he has no clue of. The fourth year was spring, the fifth year was the catalyst.

Levi’s heart was pounding.

This can’t be happening. Why the fuck was this happening in the first place? Who in their right mind would put a fucking threat inside Hogwarts?

Levi swore his heart stopped when Hange, [Name]’s best friend, came barreling towards him in the middle of the hallway. He was talking to Erwin, a Slytherin Prefect who he was once cautious of because of his unnerving way of approaching people. (“Levi Ackerman, correct? Would you dedicate your heart to fight for what’s right in this battle between light and dark?”) Erwin was in the middle of telling Levi of this muggle contraption, something called a flashlight, when Hange stopped in front of them while shouting for Levi. He remembered Hange panting as if all air was sucked from their body, hands on their knees as they crouched. Their glasses were askew when they lifted their head, their next words dousing Levi in the freezing waters of the polar tundras.

“[N-Name], s-she,” Hange panted before continuing, “she’s petrified!”

Levi wasted no time in racing towards the Hospital Wing. He could hear Hange’s feet padding behind him but all he could think about was Yellow. He knew she wasn’t of pureblood, with her parents being from one of the other. It was a fact that was randomly brought out during one of their late-night talk sessions in the Astronomy Tower. Perks of being Hufflepuff’s Prefect. Levi cursed himself for thinking about those nights when she needed him in the Hospital Wing. His mind came to a blank slate when he asked himself what help could he give to her, to Madam Pomfrey and the professors concocting a cure for the petrified victims. With a fervent shake of his head, Levi ran even faster. Enough of the doubts. Yellow needed him right fucking now. She was petrified for fuck’s sake.

The condition of the Hospital Wing was heart-wrenching. Students were occupying the bedside of those who were affected by the petrification. From what Levi could recall, the last victims were Hermione Granger and Penelope Clearwater. If it wasn’t him, Hange was by her side or someone from her House if the former was too busy with their experiments. How come Yellow was petrified, too?

“Madam Pomfrey,” Levi called out.

The matron of Hogwarts turned around. “Mr. Ackerman, this way. Thank you for bringing him here, Hange.”

“No problem, Madam Pomfrey,” Hange answered. “[Name] would want it that way.”

Levi paused when he reached the bedside of his closest friend. What was causing these petrifications? Mindlessly, the onyx-haired boy gently ran his fingers on [Name]’s arm. From what Levi could tell, she was petrified when she was walking, head tilted to a certain direction, most likely the reflective surface she was staring at while the unknown culprit poised for the kill. His hand crept higher until he could feel the chill coming from her frozen face. Levi’s eyes drooped in regret for not being there with her. Curse their unaligned schedules this year. His fingers traced flowers on her skin, a message travelling from his fingertips, begging for her to wake up and come back to him. His chest was pinching now and then, jaw clenched and other hand curled in a tight fist.

“Don’t blame yourself, Levi,” Hange’s voice resounded from somewhere.

Levi never took his gaze from [Name]. “Why her?”

“Nobody knows the reason why the other students got petrified as well.”

“Yeah, but why her? She’s not even remotely close to the three idiots.”

“The others are not close to them, too, Levi.”

“I know,” Levi gritted. “But if that Potter kid doesn’t do anything about this, he’s going to know real hexes before he moves up another year.”

“Levi,” Hange whispered. “They’re right there on the other side of the room.”

Levi turned around and faced the direction where Potter and that redhead friend of his were situated. “Oi, Potter,” his voice boomed across the Hospital Wing. He saw how the said boy flinched at the threatening utterance of his name. Their eyes were wide when they knew of the person who called them. Levi wasn’t exactly a nice person to others despite being a Hufflepuff. The most they saw him smile was probably with the girl he was visiting. “If you don’t put a stop on this fucking shitshow, expect getting your arse kicked not only in Quidditch.” He didn’t care that the other occupants in the Hospital Wing stared at him as if they caught him cheating on a Quidditch game. “Not to put pressure on you but ever since last year, you earned quite a reputation in Hogwarts. You’re the only one who can stop this.”

That was Levi’s first interaction with the Chosen One.

“Levi, that was pretty harsh,” Hange stage-whispered with their hand covering their mouth.

Levi scoffed. “Harsh? That kid has a lot on his plate. I’m pretty sure he can handle a few blunt remarks here and there.”

“[Name] will be mad at you when she wakes up.”

“Yeah, I know.”

It’s safe to say that when Yellow woke up, not only did she paint his world with that colour, she also made sure to berate Levi for threatening a junior like that. It was pretty worth it actually because Levi finally heard her voice. His day was not the same without her voice twinkling like a fairy’s. So, when they were in their nightly meeting place, Levi leaned his head against hers as she talked his ear off, giving him his most peaceful rest in the entirety of his life.

“People often see Ravenclaws too shallowly.”

“Oh?” Levi murmured against her hair, breathing in the scent of her fruity shampoo, and shoulders touching while the stars looked on the two rumoured lovers.

[Name]’s fingers trailed over the yellowed pages of the book she borrowed from the library. This night was about mermaids, sirens, and their in-depth history. Creatures so magical that it enticed her while roaming around the library for hours on end just looking for the reference book containing the spells Professor McGonagall assigned for the entire class to study. The practical examination would have to wait if it meant quenching her curiosity. She was at the part where there was more than one kind of the alluring sea mystics, having stopped on the page that depicted the mermaids Muggle fairy tales usually described. The illustration of the flowy locks of hair and iridescent fins spurred the discussion unfolding at the moment.

The smile on her face was like the first effect of Amortentia on Levi.

“Care to tell me what’s going on in that brilliant mind of yours?” Levi asked, taking one of her hands to draw random patterns that mimicked the mermaids’ hair in the book.

“Smart. Quick-witted. Wise. Those are usually the words associated with our House. It’s sometimes linked to the shut-in bookworms.” Her voice was so soft that Levi had to lessen their distance until her breath could be felt on his skin. It was doing wonders to his pattering heart, but he chose to swallow the rising flower petals in his throat and let the waves of friendship wash over him. His heart lurched when he felt her dainty fingers tap his fingertips. She continued telling him with a light chuckle, “I like to think we’re more than that.”

Levi tilted his head. The moonlight washing over her figure outlined her hair glow a beautiful silver. The blessing of the Moon granted her miniature stars on her eyelashes.

“People forget that the human mind is capable of many things — that there is more than what meets the eye. Logic and reasoning are not the only things that bind us as a House. Yes, we have the smartest students in our dormitories but if we were driven mostly by facts, Hermione Granger should be a Ravenclaw.” Yellow buried her face more in her scarf, embarrassed that she said the last statement. She heard Levi laugh through his nose beside her, an indication that he agreed. “Nevertheless, I personally think that Ravenclaw is the House of the Arts and seeing life in curiosity. We explore the capacity of the human mind just as much as Gryffindors explore the tangible world. Within the human mind comes creativity, which births music, art, literature, and magic. It’s quite sad when I hear people refer to us as the dorks, that we’re incapable of looking up from our books.”

“You’re a dreamer in my eyes.” Levi lowered his voice even though it was only the two of them in one section of the Astronomy Tower. A look of surprise flashed on her face as their gazes met. “From what I can gather, not only are you and your Housemates the most formidable people I know, you Ravenclaws carry the stars inside you. And for me, you carry the brightest one in the entire galaxy.”

The splashes of yellow created a symphony of first love.

A graceful smile pulled on [Name]’s lips. “And you’re an adventurer in my eyes.”

Levi imperceptibly narrowed his eyes. “I think you mixed me with the wrong House, Yellow.”

One of his favourite sounds rang true in the chamber. The remnants of her laugh remained as a huge smile as she said, “An adventure for the sake of an adventure, that’s what you are.” At the curious raise of his eyebrow, [Name] elaborated. “There are adventurers who let their purpose be driven by knowledge, glory, and power, but, Vi, you go out to explore the world simply because you have the heart and courage to do it without a goal in mind. You value the things you find along the way, having no regrets and being proud of doing the right things no matter how small they are. You let your heart guide you and I know that’s the most amazing trait a person could ever have. And you have it, every single day when I’m with you. You’re shamelessly human and I think that’s the most beautiful thing ever, Levi.”

The pink on Levi’s cheeks travelled towards his ears, heating his face until he could feel his entire body ignite like a furnace. [Name] had no idea the effects she had on him. The beat of his heart became too loud that he feared she might hear it as well. There’s no doubt that he was looking at her like she had the entire universe painted on her body. Every word went straight to his heart as if Cupid had a good time launching a multitude of arrows in his direction.

What a fucking pulchritudinous person. And she had him speechless.

[Name]’s face twisted in concern at his silence. “Did I say too much?” She tended to overshare things, sometimes over-analyze some of her friends to the point of distancing.

Levi blinked. “N-No, you’re—”

She looked away from him with a sheepish laugh. “Prying, I know.”

His hand cupped her cheek in the most gentle way possible like she was the most fragile thing to ever exist on the planet. Which she was starting to become to him. Her wonder was something he vowed to protect. He slowly placed his forehead against hers, thumb caressing the apple of her cheek. “You’re,” he breathed before gulping, “absolutely brilliant.”

“You’ve said that a hundred times since we met, Vi. Well, since last year because you’re so quiet when we were in our third or fourth years.”

“And I’ll never get tired of saying it. You have a way with things and words that makes me feel so … at home.” He was about to say his feelings outright but good thing he caught himself before blurting everything out in the open. “I don’t know how to explain it.” Oh, he did. The courage bestowed by his House vanished in thin air. “But you are so amazing that I can’t help but think you’re way out of my league.”

“I should be the one to say that,” she retaliated. “Have you heard of what they say about you?”

A glint of amusement sparkled Levi’s eyes. “Hmm? What do they say?”

She cleared her throat, posture straightened with a determined look on her visage. The smile on her face never wavered as she iterated, “The vice-captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch Team and the most remarkable Chaser in all of Hogwarts. The kindest student for helping the professors without asking for anything in return. The most enigmatic student in the castle captured the interest of the whole student body. I must say, there are far more things that they say but those three make up the summary.”

“But what do you think of them?”

“What?” She was taken aback.

“What do you think of what they say about me?”

“I think it’s true to the Levi I have known for three years.”

Once again, he expected that answer but he still found himself flushing. He hoped she didn’t pick up on that. It was merely a question to feed his curiosity of what the person of his affections thought of him. He cleared his throat. “Hmm.”

“I never lie, Levi. You are all of those things and so much more. I’ve seen you fly through the stadium during your matches and you’re glowing like the Sun. I’ve helped you offer your aid to the professors and even though you never smile around them, I can tell that you enjoy doing good deeds without any rewards. Your mysterious persona was what captured my interest in the first place. I’ve always wanted to talk to you but you seem to glare at every breathing thing once they step within a three-metre radius. But behind everything that they say, I’ve seen you talk so animatedly about your favourite Quidditch teams or your favourite subjects.” [Name] gently placed her palm against Levi’s warm cheeks. “In conclusion, you’re the one that’s way out of my league.”

Levi rolled his eyes, shying away from her grasp. “Okay, okay, I get it,” he murmured. “Can we talk about mermaids now?”

She laughed. “Of course, Vi. Whatever you want.”

He never knew that the human heart could beat this fast.

A dreamer and an adventurer written in the stars.

“Ackerman.”

What a fucking good start.

“Yes, Professor?” Levi forced out a polite tone.

Snape looked down at him and Levi stared right back.

“Can you tell me what potion is on the table right now?” Snape said in that drawl of his that seemed to make Levi’s skin crawl.

Levi glanced at the table in front of the entire class and inwardly grimaced. “Amortentia, Professor, the strongest love potion. One whiff of it becomes the most attractive to one person even if they’re unaware of their fondness for the reason behind the scent. It is said to invoke extreme infatuation that becomes an obsession once you’re administered it.”

“Very well, ten points to Hufflepuff,” Snape rewarded.

Please, don’t call names to announce what we can smell.

“Smith, what’s the next potion?”

Levi visibly let out a breath of relief. Across the room, he caught the eye of Erwin and the fucking tree had the audacity to knowingly smile before answering Snape. He knew that look. He was always on the receiving end of that look, whether from Hange, Erwin, Farlan, or Mike. It always had something to do with a certain Ravenclaw who had an affinity for his House colour. The last time he received that look was when Erwin caught him staring at [Name] for a long period, describing Levi’s face as someone who just drank all the love potions in the Wizarding World. Was he that subtle with his feelings for her or was his Yellow just oblivious? Maybe shifting to the latter because his entire friend circle would sometimes remind him that his drool was starting to show with all the gawking he did. Day by day, he was getting closer to socking someone in the face.

As the class went on, as usual, a theory-oriented one that everybody was wishing for, Levi detected the most addicting scents entering his senses. He felt himself droop in comfort; it was a tantalising sillage of a mixture of fruits (bananas, strawberries, and lemon — almost a fruit salad), pages of an old book that was most likely from the library, and—Levi had to prevent himself from looking like an idiot in the middle of class.

It was only when he resurfaced from the Slytherin dungeons with Erwin that he felt his whole face burn. He never heard Erwin tell him, “You look like a tomato, Levi.” All he saw was his Yellow, walking towards the staircase, her Ravenclaw robes flattering her. The sight of that infamous hair tie that captured his attention greeted his vision when she ascended on the stairs to the Divination classroom.

The last scent was a field of sunflowers.

Levi shakes himself from his daydreams to not let the others know he’s not paying attention. Butterbeer overpowers the interior of the Three Broomsticks as a good number of Hogwarts students spend their holidays in the castle, courtesy of the Triwizard Tournament. His group of friends is mostly there to buy things for the Yule Ball, a troublesome event that will take place in a few days and the subject of Levi’s annoyance. In the course of three days, Levi received a total of four proposals from girls he never knew existed in Hogwarts. All of them he rejected and now he’s placed in a situation where he was aware that some boys might ask [Name] to be their partner for the Yule Ball. His hand on his mug of Butterbeer tightens at the thought.

“You should ask her, Levi,” Erwin says from in front of him.

Levi hums and takes a sip of his beverage. “What’s to say she already said yes to the others who asked her?”

Farlan snorts. “You think Miss Head Girl said yes to them?”

“She said yes to you when you asked her to hang out in Hogsmeade to ward off your ex or Erwin when he needed a date for his parents’ gala or something.”

“That’s because we’re her friends, Levi,” Erwin supplies but it’s obvious Levi is starting to overthink. “And I doubt she wants either of us to ask her to the ball.” He shares a knowing glance with Farlan, who shrugs with a mirthful grin on his face. Both of them know how Levi fancies the brilliant Ravenclaw everybody in Hogwarts seems to adore as well. They’re the witness to his floundering whenever she’s around, how he appears to be fidgeting with his fingers, or the tell-tale flush that’s prominent on his skin. “So I think you should go and ask her. She’s definitely not going to say no. I mean, it’s you we’re talking about.”

“What do you mean?” Levi raises an eyebrow.

Farlan rolls his eyes. “Oh, come on! Don’t pretend that you two are not the rumoured lovers. We’ve seen everything, Levi. You can’t deny that she returns your feelings. Everyone can see that she does.”

Levi scoffs a laugh. “No, she doesn’t. Why would she? I mean, I’m not exactly deserving of her. She’s …” He slowly blinks at his mug, a sheen of yellow-coloured glasses covering his eyes. “Luminous.”

Snickers ring from across him, successfully annoying the hell out of him.

“You’re drooling, Levi,” Farlan guffaws.

Erwin chuckles. “Which is more reason for you to ask her. I know she’ll say yes. Come on, when has she ever turned down any of your Hogsmeade invitations.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, I never invited her,” Levi drawls. “It’s the other way around.”

“There you go!” Farlan points out with his hand gripping the handle of his mug, mouth outlined with froth from his drink. “She never asked other people to go with her, it’s always you! So, make the first move this time. Ask her to be your date for the ball and I bet she’ll appreciate that more.” The blond leans forward as he places his mug on the table. His gaze arrests Levi, who’s about to bail and make a run for it. Farlan has an idea that Levi is adamant to get out of the hot seat. “If you spoke about your feelings to her, all of us know that love will return. Would you rather let it be spoken inside you until it becomes too soft for her to hear?”

Levi glowers at Farlan, jaw clenching at his friend’s words. “Damn Ravenclaws and their logic.”

“Am I wrong though?”

The onyx-haired boy breathes out a sigh.

“It’s your call, Levi,” Erwin tries to help.

It takes Levi a couple of minutes to collect himself. The outcome of the proposal is walking down on the grand staircase of the castle, taking the breath of everyone that’s watching.

Yellow.

It’s the day of the ball and a special day at that. One that Levi never paid attention to until this year. It’s a day filled with wishing he never took his first breath if it meant his mother’s last when he did. It’s a day of white lilies and the arctic chill of winter wonderlands. A day painted in death. That was until she painted everything in yellow.

Tulle and silk flutter against the steps, a goddess descending from the heavens — too divine for a mortal eye. And Levi is a devout follower. The goddess in question is a wearer of blue and bronze but she dons the colour yellow like the luminary that she is. Every clink of her shoes on the floor lessens the distance until she stands in front of her temple. The gown is a simple one yet she shines amongst the silver and dull colours in the chamber. Attached to the bodice are tulle off-shoulder sleeves coming to her wrists. Adorned on the dress’ material are little crystals akin to dewdrops. Her temples carry delicate gold flower headpieces, with tiny jewels to match the crystals on her dress. Levi is once again speechless and he only stands there with his mouth slightly open and eyes wide, taking her in.

[Name], his Yellow, is a divine deity of beauty and wisdom among mortals.

“Happy birthday, Levi,” she greets with a beautiful smile that makes him weak in the knees.

Levi closes his mouth, gulping his nervousness. “Thank you,” he whispers, too scared for his voice to crack if he modulates it.

Her laugh is like the fairies in the immense ceiling above them. He swears everything brightens at the sound. “Did somebody take your tongue? I swear this is the quietest you’ve ever been. Is something wrong?”

Levi inhales a deep breath. “No, nothing is wrong. I …” You’re so beautiful. He wants to say that but no words are coming out of his mouth. He’s starting to feel his hands becoming clammy and his heart dancing to a nervous tune. “You clean yourself nicely, I see.”

She playfully rolls her eyes. “You clean up nicely as well, Mr. Ackerman.”

“Shall we?” Levi offers his arm, still focused on the beauty in front of him.

“We shall.”

The Yule Ball is an event for lovers. Of friends and newfound sparks. It’s a night of magic.

For once in Levi’s life, he never thought of how his mother gave up her life for him to experience the world in its rawest form. For once in his life, Levi never wants this day to end. He will not let anything take away what’s standing in front of him. He feels Time at a standstill. As they dance to the orchestra’s waltz, Levi feels his lips tugging in a smile and he lets it surface on his face. He can see the glimmer of awe in her irises and his smile grows, foreheads softly pressing on each other. Their noses are touching and the little snow magic flurrying around them adds to the romance. Everybody vanishes from sight, just the two of them in this gentle winter wonderland. Levi knows that the moment they met was the day he realised he finally found his home. That little sunflower keeping her hair together, the laughs that warm the entire room, the yellowed pages she brushes her fingers on, and the glimmer of a promise of forever present in her smile.

It’s the first time Levi feels happiness on his birthday. A feat that will be remembered for years on end.

When the waltz dies down and the thumps of a rock band are waking the fairies from their perch, Levi lets [Name] pull him from the Great Hall. Their shadows dance on the walls, silently prancing from the professors’ sights until they come to their spot in the Astronomy tower. There are a couple of people there, lovers needing the recluse from all the festivities. The gentle hand encasing his own pulls him to their usual spot, right next to the balcony overseeing the entirety of the Hogwarts property. The stars above are shining more than ever, for winter is at its peak. Real flurries of snow tip-toe inside to their spot, kissing their skin in a reassurance that the night won’t be as cold as they perceived it to be.

“I couldn’t thank you enough for getting me out of the misery of watching a concert,” Levi states, hand now encasing hers, with the other finding home in her waist.

She laughs before shivering at the winter breeze. Instantly, Levi takes off the jacket of his robes, tenderly putting it on her shoulders. Upon doing so, their gazes meet and he can feel himself leaning in, both of his hands now pulling her in by her waist until their chests are against each other. It doesn’t register to him that she’s doing the same. Maybe it’s the magic of winter or the wish he foolishly made earlier in the day to give him a moment of peace with his Yellow. A surge of confidence takes over him.

“Yellow reminds me of you.”

“Really?” Her voice is soft-spoken.

Levi’s lips descend first on her cheek. “Yes. You make me warm all over like I just touched the Sun without falling like Icarus.” Next, he brushes them on the corner of her lips. “I never once thought that my House colour could bring me so much comfort and homeliness. I never thought that — until I met you.” He looks at her in the eye and finds them glassy with unshed tears. “You invoke so much happiness in me like no one else does. Every day when you’re with me, I feel like the best person I can be. You’re my reason, my biggest adventure, my haven, [Name].

“You’re my favourite colour.”

“And you’ve always been mine, Levi. Right from the start, I know that it’s you.” [Name] tilts her head, her lips brushing on his. “I dream of you every single day. I might not say this out loud in flowering words but I’m so happy right now. I feel like I can catch falling stars, knowing that you return my feelings.”

Levi’s eyelids flutter. “Return my feelings?”

“Yes,” she gleefully giggles. “I fancy you, too, Levi Ackerman.”

“You just made me the happiest, Yellow.”

Their lips meet and suddenly everything feels right and whole.

It’s soft and unyielding — their love for one another. When they pull away, all they can see is each other. Another kiss is placed on her cheek, a hum of a laugh coming from Levi as a smile once again becomes visible. [Name] effortlessly elicits them from him. Their hearts are offered to one another to keep as well as their hands to hold.

“This is officially the best birthday.”

“Oh!” [Name] slightly pulls away from a confused Levi, her hands opening her extendable purse. From the confines of her bag, she waves a present in front of Levi, wrapped pretty with a golden bow.

“You shouldn’t have.” In reality, his heart is full, as indicated by his smile.

“Of course, I should have.” She hands it to him, eager to see his reaction. “It’s the special day of my favourite person.”

Taking his hands off her waist, Levi chuckles while unwrapping his present. His eyes slowly widen at what seems to be a thick hardbound book. It’s bulging and he curiously opens to the title page. He glances at her giddy smile at the words she wrote on the paper. A Page a Day. On the next page, his heart races in his chest, spurring the butterflies to fiercely beat their wings. For my Yellow. “How did you—”

“It’s mainly because you’re a Hufflepuff. Did I ever tell you that yellow suits you the best?”

Levi hums with a smile. “We really do think alike.”

“Great minds, they say.”

He playfully rolls his eyes, continuing on his journey with his present. He then discovers that the book carries a tea bag for each day, every single one a different flavour with little handwritten notes under the tea bag. Utterly stunning. “Did I ever mention that you’re absolutely brilliant?”

[Name] looks away with a grin. “Only about a thousand times now. I assume you like the present?”

“You have no idea,“ Levi utters. "Come here.” He pulls her in his arms, his favourite sound becoming music to his ears.

Another kiss has been shared and birthdays are never the same again for one adventurer — his dreamer finally in his reach.

[alexjcrowley]

I had written a some sort of small fanfic about Robin's first birthday (Chess Husbands if you squint) in response to a Tumblr post that was talking about it (Robin had his first Christmas, what about his first birthday) but apparently it doesn't show on Tumblr if I look for it, so I'm reposting it in my own post. Enjoy!

Imagine Robin questioning the others' birthdays. Sure, he won't spoil the party for them, but he doesn't get it. Okay, they were born on that day, and? Allison and the ghosts first believd Robin was saying that it doesn't make sense for the deads to celebrate their birthdays, since they're not getting older, but he seems to be confused about the whole concept of birthdays even for the livings. He is skeptical about it, like he was for Christmas. What's the point, really? Is it helpful to assure you good luck for the next year? Does it hold a religious value? Are they thanking someone or something with that celebration?

Sure, he doesn't make a fuss about it, because first, he doesn't want to be a buzzkill (death is not that exciting, if someone's happy for once, he won't ruin it for them), and second, he also has his Moonah ritual the others so kindly join in, so he gets it, everyone has their own thing. Again, he thanks Moonah with his celebration, for being with him all this time, he doesn't understand what's the point of a birthday.

That's when it strikes Allison. He doesn't have one. Sure, he was born someday, but he has no idea when. It's not in his culture. And before Allison and Mike arrived, birthdays were small personal things, ghosts just remembered that day used to be their birthday and that's it, but now, with Allison actively celebrating the ghosts' birthdays, Robin is left out.

And though it doesn't answer the question why birthdays exist, it would still be nice if Robin had one.

Allison was going to ask him directly "when would you like your birthday to be?", but Julian, surprisingly (well, not that much) for once invested in problems that aren't his own, says Robin wouldn't like it like that.

It's Humphrey who provides the reason: Robin thinks birthdays are a stupid convention, if you were to ask him deliberately, he wouldn't answer, he would feel it was forced. And he would think that they're pitying him.

The others share a guilty look. They've all felt pity towards Robin at some point. That's the last thing the caveman deserves. He'd always made it on his own, he doesn't need to be pitied.

Julian offers himself as volunteer to find out which day Robin would like his birthday to be on. After all, it's no secret he and Robin are very good friends, it wouldn't be as weird as if anybody else in the house started asking Robin a whole lot of questions all of a sudden.

And Julian is a master of obtaining what he wants.

"Never thought you'd support this foolishness" says Fanny.

Well, Julian Fawcett has a heart too, and now everybody knows.

So here they go days of what's your favourite season, what's your favourite month, what's your favourite number, but nothing really ever comes of it.

Robin just says he likes when the weather's warm, because there's no risk of freezing to death, and start talking about hunting seasons. He thinks it's dumb to have a favourite number. He doesn't care too much about temporal divisions, they didn't have it in his days.

Someone tries to suggest to place it the day of Moonah celebration, but Julian brushes it off: it's never the same day or even the same month.

What? Robin does talk a lot about this stuff and he- occasionally- listens. It's not like there's anything more exciting to do there anyway.

Sure, they could choose an arbitrary day, but that would reinforce Robin's thoery of a birthday being just a formality, when Pat's face lights up.

"I know he...Well, I can only hope he doesn't still believes in all those nutty theories, but if there was ever something special to him..."

20th July, it's settled.

Allison has to explain Mike why it is so important to get a cake (and a small figurine of an astronaut), but eventually he just accepts it. Cake for the the dead cavaman's made up birthday, alright.

They couldn't find an agreement on how old he is actually turning- researches on Google only showed when first homo sapiens could be found in England, doesn't mean that's when he was born- so they stick with a one-shaped candle: it's his first birthday, after all.

They go full surprise party, keeping him occupied and distracted while they set up the decorations and the cake.

They bring him to the kitchen with an excuse and...ta-da!

Of course, he doesn't get it at first.

He thinks he's missed someone's else birthday, looks around to see who they're cheering for, but they're all looking in his direction.

First impulse is to turn towards Julian, but he knows it's not his birthday. Then he sees the cake Allison's holding towards him.

"No, but...not birth-day, I no birth-day"

"Well, we know you don't know when your birthday is, but you have one too. And we thought today could be it, if you'd like. Happy birthday, Robin!"

The caveman still hasn't recovered from the surprise, he stares dumbfounded at the cake.

The ghosts would start sweating if they could. What is they messed it up? What if it was actually a horrible, horrible idea? What if it brought back more bad memories than go-

"AHHH, HAPPY BIRTH-DAY TO ME!" Robin shouts all of a sudden.

Everyone can finally breath again (well, metaphorically speaking, of course).

Robin tries to dig a hand in the cake, unsuccessfully, but he still looks very excited.

He looks at everyone with a bright smile.

"Thank you"

Alison can't help but smiling softly.

Julian is beaming proudly next to Robin.

They have a small celebration- still huge for ghost standards. Alison cuts everyone a piece of cake (she'll be handing them out tomorrow at work, making up some excuses for having an entire cake to distribute), they put up some music and they watch "A Trip to the Moon", the old Georges Méliès movie, that Alison's found on YouTube- Cap's idea. He was so excited when he found out about war's documentaries, he thought that movie could have a similar effect on Robin. He was not wrong.

Mike even leaves Robin his computer to watch more videos about the moon, he will take it back the next morning.

"So, did you like your birthday?" Kitty asks.

"Me still thinks birth-days stupid. But nice. Like cats who can't get out of box."

Yeah, he and Julian fell through that kind of rabbit hole with Youtube's selected for you videos.

"The fair Alison did everything that was in her power to assure you enjoyed this little celebration, once again her kindness was extraordinary" says Thomas. By the way, he still a bit bummed out they wouldn't let him finish to recite the poem he wrote for Robin's birthday, but, in all fairness, he was having trouble remembering all the words. He didn't write it down. Said "the inspiration overcame him", there's was no time to ask Alison to put it down on a word document.

It's been a busy day, and one last chess match would be the perfect conclusion.

"I'll let you win this time- just because it's your birthday" says Julian.

"I win with no help. Me better than you at chess"

"I'll let this slide, again, just because it's your birthday" Julian replies, hiding a smile, but his eyes are shining.

"Little guy goes..."

"...Yes?"

"No comment?"

"On what?"

"Name's not little guy"

"I thought of letting you off the hook, as a birthday present"

"Back on the hook! It's funny when you go ahhh" Robin tries to emulate an annoyed sigh "when me name pieces wrong"

Julian is confused.

"So you do it on purpouse? All these years, you always remembered this" point at the pawn "is pawn, this is a bishop, this is a rook- but pretended not to just to annoy me?"

Robin thinks about it for a few seconds, then nods nonchalantly.

Julian is now gobsmacked.

"So, little guy-"

"Pawn" Julian interrupts him instinctively, still confused about what he just found out.

"Prawn" Robin replies with knowing smile "goes...dooka dooka"

[kim-monsterlings]

Edel - M Nokken x F Human (Reader) // NSFW

The pictures do not belong to me. I only created the mood board, with a thank you to @handy-dandy-monster-candy​ for helping edit the photos! Do not repost my work anywhere.

Content: NSFW/Lemon; mentions of moving home, selkie friend, light flirting, gifted flowers, bakery treats, slight angst, flirting with fae, kissing, receiving oral, penetrative sex (+ mention of protection), with a fluffy ending

Wordcount: 4302

Faebruary Summary: of your new neighbour and struggling to befriend him

Masterlist // Faebruary Masterlist

No more than twice before moving in had you met your soon-to-be neighbour. On both occasions – the first a tour of the cosy, ground floor apartment, and the second on the day of finalising the lease - he greeted you with the gentlest of handshakes, warmed by a tenderness born of restrained strength. He owned the building and lived in the flat across from yours, apparently for years now.

“Call me Edel. It’s my pleasure,” he’d said the first morning, with a tilted smile and a soft, almost musical accent. His voice distracted you the entirety of the tour so much so that the flat itself barely made an impression. Instead, you remembered Edel and the soft waves of long, dark hair, how the sunlight caught his cheekbones when passing large, bay windows. “You’ll love it here. I promise.”

Had you moved in for the neighbour with a crooked smile and his unimposing nature, a month from dragging indoors the last of your belongings, you would have been sorely disappointed. Even your first meeting left you wanting more; whether that came in a passing smile when crossing in the hall or more, you weren’t yet sure. With less than a couple of feet from his home to yours, you still couldn’t find it in you to initiate that new relationship, and now it felt like you had waited too long.

You didn’t need to wait any longer.

Moving entwined with an independence you had lacked. Now closer to work, closer to friends and with enough distance from home you really felt free, settling into a new routine preoccupied you for a month. That, and decorating with warmer shades of paint and softer cushions, so that now, curled beneath small window lights, you saw him.

The farthest end of your shared garden faded into outgrown woods, sheltering a lake so far only seen in the advertised photos of the property. Not a cloud marred the pale light cast over Edel’s bare back, shadowed by the hair loose against his shoulder blades. He left the back entrance of the building barefoot, never looking from the tree line before fading into it.

He hadn’t returned when you retreated to bed, no matter how slow you walked, peeking back and hoping for another glimpse. With a fresh coffee in hand the next morning, a blur drifted by, the slender form of your neighbour emerging from the woods. In this light, warmer and clearer for your prying, a slight sheen glistened over his bare body, curls where his hair before rested straighter. Steam no longer rose from your mug when you finally looked away, but it was harder to force Edel from your mind.

Retaining the picture of the slight hue beneath falling water led you into your favourite bakery hours later. Favourite not only because your best friend owned it, but now for its proximity to your home, too. This infatuation thrived in the space of a month alone, then being for the soft touch of his palm to yours a, his quiet laugh at your persistent questioning the flat before he answered each with enduring patience. It was more than that, now, and when your close friend found you in her doorway, the dappled pelt draped around her shoulders reconciled with your neighbour’s night passed in a lake, and his melodic way of speaking.

Isla’s loose braids of pepper hair rested along her coat, flyaway strands wisping around her dimpled cheeks when she grinned. Since your moving, where before you would only see one another on occasion, you would pass with a wave, either beckoned by her or entering with some time for catching up, just to make up for the distance no longer between you.

Though, not today, and without a word of pleasantry you said, “I think my neighbour is fae.”

“You mean Edel?” With Isla so close and her recommendation an incentive to renting the flat, her knowledge of the area was invaluable, even in muffling a laugh behind a cough. Her lips still curled when she continued, “he’s a nokken. Didn’t you know?”

She asked like your drawn eyebrows and frown hadn’t been answer enough. “Like fae? Water fae?”

“Distantly fae.” As Isla reached for your favourite treats, the light caught her pelt. “You seem to attract us.”

Her teasing warmed through you as she handed you the warmed bag. She refused payment, though didn’t turn you from the tip jar on the promise of seeing her tomorrow. 

This hadn’t changed anything. You loved your home and living with a nokken hadn’t – wouldn’t, change that.

Knowing what he was, tonight you crept nearer the windows at the faint creaking of doors opening in the hall. The same silhouette left and without the marring confusion or worry for him leaving so late, you tiptoed closer. On a darker night, the moonlight illuminated his muscles tensing with each step further from where a human would choose to rest.

Halfway gone, he faltered, a misstep bringing pale light to cast from his chest to his low hips. Hair darker than the shadows clinging to him tangled about his slender frame when his head tilted. With the slight wind fluttering his hair, it would frame his sharp features beautifully tied back, but then his eyes reflecting white light pinned you. Only then had you the sense to duck.

That shame clung to you long after retreating from your lounge. Maybe he hadn’t seen you, rather only the curtain swaying as you fled, but he had sensed you all the same, turned right to where the the netting tucked back for you to follow him down to the trees. If not for the signed lease, the mortification nearly had you packing your things.

Even as temptation tickled you with a shadow passing your window, you smothered it. Where you curled into the counter, kettle boiling, was far from view had he ever been able to see into your home; he couldn't through net curtains, but reminding yourself came with the sting of shame from last night.

Hiding from him worked until gentle raps came at your door. If he had come now to question your staring, to challenge your urge to watch him walk deeper like he belonged in the night, no defence would rise to your lips.

Edel braced himself on your doorframe. He'd just returned from the lake: hair curling now, the loose trousers cloying to his thighs. That little defence you had ready - an apology, really, drowned beneath the breath fleeing you at his fingers brushing your cheek.

“Come with me."

What little knowledge of fae you now cherished alarmed you, but not so much you didn't move from him. "To the water?"

"Wouldn't you like to?" Lake water followed the muscle of his chest, ending at the darker hairs of his abdomen. Edel's smile burned when you found him looking down to you. "Is that not why you watch me?"

"Call it curiosity," you said, though your breath trembled. He had seen you.

His warm hand fell from your cheek. "Tomorrow, then?"

With a noncommittal, "maybe," and a shared smile, Edel left you to collapse back against your closed door.

No invitation called you to the lake, but a water lily laid outside your door reminded you of the nokken across the hall. The cheaper rent - now, you knew, from fear of living with a creature like him, one related to fae - blessed you not only with a blossoming friendship, but fresh flowers brightening your home with his returns.

Each night on his path to the woods, Edel would pause. Sometimes that was all, just a second's hesitation, but other nights, he would turn and find you half-hidden. Those nights you treasured for the slight tipping of his head to the trees in an extended invite.

You never accepted, and he never stopped offering.

It wasn't so much the fear of entering unfamiliar waters with a nokken hindering you but that you would embarrass yourself. The bright lilies started your day warm, and to follow him would cross a line you weren't ready for; but one you so badly wanted to cross.

The soon familiar routine and its floral scent hadn’t seemed anything more than pleasantries, until a night you replaced the water for the flowers after waving Edel down the garden. Out of love for Isla when she waived a cost, you returned a tip, but you hadn’t offered anything for the flowers nor the smiles from your neighbour. Your friend would never claim a debt against you and while, you doubted Edel would, hoped he wouldn’t, the accumulation following weeks living on his property could amount to any kind of debt, if he chose to claim it.

What better way to appease fae, than with gifts in return?

"Fae like sweet things," Isla told you that afternoon. Sugar coated her fingertips from a long day, a slight dusting along her coat tucked at the back counter, never far from her. She gestured back to the shelves of recipes lining the old bakery.

That wasn’t all that you wanted, though. Isla waited while you fidgeted, seeking the right words. Of course fae liked sweet things, but you wanted Edel to like them, too. Not solely for their purpose in repaying a debt but for who gifted them.

“Like?”

"Bake him something sweet and the effort is gift enough. Try this."

Your friend scowled at the note tucked into her tip jar on handing over a recipe, but waved you out with a smile. The honey-sweetened scent lingered in your home with the flowers after meticulous effort, wafting with you into the hall.

Edel’s breath formed your name, your bodies brushing from his step taken out of his door. On time, too, and the flowery perfume rose from him, stronger and somehow sweeter. His gentle hands rose to your arms, thumbs rubbing slow circles. He was all that stopped you from trembling.

Through a warm accent, he asked, "have you come to join me?"

"Another night, maybe."

"Maybe," he echoed. His eyes fell to where you lifted a warm box. "Those smell lovely."

"They're for you. For the flowers."

"For the flowers," he whispered. The gentle embrace broke like he planned to accept your gift, but instead he brought a foot of distance between you. "You do not owe me anything. If the flowers created such an impression, I am sorry."

The forced tilt to his lips came and went before you could explain, and you stood in the hall long after the backdoor swung open and shut again.

He hadn't returned the next morning. No flower graced your doorstep but when you were just stepping indoors from work, the blur passed your window earlier than each night before, and your stomach dropped.

The tentative friendship fractured further come morning, at a time your absence was known. No flowers came when you left, but the backdoor closed as you turned down the hall. Your distraction allowed him time to leave without your seeing.

So when you finished a painfully long week of waiting and hoping to cross paths, you waited some more. You would go to the water as he had always hoped but going at a time when he was there hadn't been harder. He went to avoid you and by chance after waking late in the night unsettled, finding a glimmer of moonlight disturbed by your neighbour fading banished all remnants of sleep.

In all your nights of peeking through curtains, Edel had never shivered. It was cold. It was windy and dark and you had never been so far down the garden, spurred into the trees by the persisting ache in your chest. It eased when you neared the lake, but replaced with dread as you knelt on a small, wooden platform jutting over the bank.

The water was unforgivingly dark. An unholy screech tore from you when something skimmed your hand hovering against the surface. Edel rose faster from the water to steady you than you could comprehend, cold hands gripping you by your ribs before you toppled forward.

His thumbs stroked in slow circles as you forced yourself to calm down. "You deserved that."

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your heart a weight in your throat. "I miss the flowers."

"Oh?" His head tilted, bringing long hair to cling to his chest in slight waves. "The flowers and their debt?"

Each word hit like a crack to your ribs. "I'm sorry."

When his hold left, it felt like more of a rejection than his avoidance, until he sighed. "It's late."

"It wasn't just repayment. It was a gift, too." He hadn't looked up again. "I promise I've not be waiting, either."

Edel breathed a laugh. "How did you know to come now?"

"I saw you leaving."

His lips rose as you seemed to lie, but before you could remedy it, his palms flattened to the deck. He rose on the strength of his arms alone until water lapped at his hips. It was when he continued to lift himself that the absence of any clothing had you staggering back.

Old wood groaned beneath you but it was quieter than when you said, "I can walk back alone."

At first unsure, his fingertips brushed yours. You hadn't looked back - he was standing, dripping, bare, but curled your hand with his until you muffled your surprise at the touch of webbed skin, as timid a touch as his following whisper.

"You don't have to."

The walk would have been silent, had you not asked to suppress the rising fluttering in your chest, "why aren’t you cold?"

"Are you cold?"

"Freezing."

Edel squeezed his hand to yours. "Then dress warmer tomorrow. Goodnight."

Tomorrow came so soon, with a soft tap to your door all it took before you were smiling up to find him leaning close. No lily, but he reached out to take your hand again.

"Before we go," he murmured, and you rested against the closed door, angled back below him. "Do you know how long this apartment was left empty? Before you?"

His face fell when you shook your head. "I knew it was empty for some time, but…"

"Two years. Over twenty-six months." His touch softened when he released your hand, revealing the thin webbing tickling you. Edel's lips twitched when you traced along it with your fingertip. "Do you know why?"

You hadn't the heart to say it, only nodding.

"Those lilies were gifts," he began and stared at your hands sliding together. "I may be folk, but I have no malicious intent in luring you to the lake. I only ever sing in the shower or beneath the water. If I ever-"

"Never," you said. Irrespective of whatever threat he thought of he posed, you didn't care.

"I'd love your company."

When you tugged on his hand, he fell in step. "I'd love yours, too." 

Late in the evening, Edel would meet you in the hall. Until you shivered or tired, you would spend the time on the deck while he floated in the water. The lilies returned after he ventured back to the lake, but without fail, he walked you back the short way to your door. His touch would pull on your hand until falling with a smile always soft on parting.

What little progress made found its way back to Isla when she urged you in, with instructions to offer him the same treats he before refused; not as a gift like they had been, but something you wanted to give him. You promised to meet him later, after you had warmed the honeyed puddings, even holding your ground when his frown tugged at your heart before leaving. Carrying them down to him was worth it, if only for the rising nerves in your chest - the good kind.

The scent teased him from the water. Edel extended a hand to draw you closer before his bright eyes widened. "Not in trade?" 

"Not in trade,” you nodded. “I promise."

"While I do believe you," he murmured, and your throat tightened as he lifted himself to your height. "If this is not in trade, give me something more."

His breath fluttered against your face. Your fingers curled against the edge of the platform. "Like?"

"One kiss." Edel's hand stroked from your crossed leg up, rising to your waist. "If you would like to. As a gift."

The wood might have splintered beneath your hands when you lifted your chin. Water dripped from his hair, cold to your face but the heat of him, his hand tight against your hip, lit a fire in your stomach.

It lasted no more than a passing second before water rose back to his chest. Edel grinned from the lake, his lips fleeting against your knuckles still locked tight to hold yourself from following him in.

He no longer left bare down to the garden since your accompanying him, though the night you first saw him, he hadn’t been either. Whether he dressed anticipating your stare choked you, but freed you to turn once to your door. Edel stilled at the kiss his cheek and you were inside before he could fully utter your name aloud.

His cheek tasted of the sugar form your honey treats.

Another week, you would have celebrated the weekend, but nothing helped pass the time until it was late enough his door opened. Edel hadn't closed it again before you were there, breaths fast and smiling up.

"I'm coming."

"Good," he breathed, before lowering himself to steal a light kiss. His hand tugged on yours. "Now?"

Though this had been why you were restless all day, having him soften, both hands rising to your cheeks to lift you closer, nearly made you faint. He whispered your name and kissed you so gently, you tiptoed and sought him again.

This time, he lingered. With your foreheads together, he ran his hands along your arms. "I've never kissed someone into stupor before."

"Don't tease," you gasped. He was still sweet on your lips and he carried that same floral scent you loved, clouding your thoughts.

"Was I not clear?" He kissed you again but lifted himself so you could see the warmth to his pale cheeks. "It's you I want, not just company."

"Me?"

"You."

"You want me?" Edel hummed, his touch tracing up your arms again. "Prove it."

He gasped and as he stared after you, inching backwards over the threshold, it felt like too much of an overstep. Then it passed and he followed you, the door closed and locked behind him.

His lips rose crooked. "Go on, then."

The apartment mirrored yours in layout and later, by his side, you would marvel at the softer hues in his decorating, more greens and greys, but you were running beyond the lounge, past large windows to an open bedroom door.

His arms came around you and aided in slipping free your clothes, until his bare chest warmed your back. "I'm to prove I want you, yes?" The heat of his palm stroked down your stomach. "Is that right?"

"Yes," you gasped, trembling already at his hand slipping lower.

"Kneel on the bed for me," he whispered to your throat and you were helpless, only hesitating at the end. Edel circled the bed and when he turned, your stomach fluttered at him tying his long hair up. His chin tipped in an unmistakable invitation. "Come here, beautiful."

His hands on your thighs lifted you closer when you gasped, astride his chest and swallowing hard. He kissed your inner thigh, undeterred by your small whine.

"Wouldn't this be better if I laid down?"

His tongue ran over his lips. "Please."

"If you need to stop," you whispered, though the strain of withholding yourself from bringing his flushed lips to where you ached most nearly overcame you. “Edel?”

"If I need air, I will tap your thigh. I won't, though," he teased, and guided you to kneel around his head, so grateful his hair had already been knotted back. "Come here…"

You lowered yourself evidently not fast enough, as Edel let free a groan and drew in a slow breath. The headboard trembled with your clutching it tight, knuckles aching like last night on the lake's platform.

One, slight touch of his hot tongue to your slit had you gasping, forgoing any inhibitions and rolling down against him. Edel made as many sounds of contentment and circled his thumbs into your thighs, parting your folds for him to lift his face higher.

"Do you… do you need me to-"

"Closer."

Edel's groan came when his lips softened against your clit, gentle at first before he focused there, mindful of how you clenched and what made you whine, then what made you gasp. The flattening of his down dragged, coaxing your cries louder. He drew on the coil burning in your navel with each stroke of his hot tongue, down until he curled it against your aching centre and tasted you around him.

One hand fell low, tugging at his hair to keep him close. Every flick of the muscle prolonged the tingling running down your spine, down to your toes curled on the sheets.

Soft palms gripped your thighs in aiding you back once your moans eased to harsher breaths. Edel settled you over his lap, but your body already so sensitive against him made you tingle again. He faced you with a glistening smile, one tended to by his tongue before you chased after his moan.

"Is that proof enough?"

Your forehead rested to his, breathing deep. "Proof?"

"Proof of how much I want you." He laid kisses along your throat and when you thumbed the waist of his trousers, his eyelids fell low with a hummed moan. "Say no."

"No."

His cheeks were flushed, hair curling at his temples from your body around him, so unlike the weight to his dark stare. "I'd like to prove my want with you sitting like this-" he rolled his hips up against you, and both of you shared a moan. "Is that what you'd like?"

Edel relinquished himself to you. Only in trousers, you caught yourself moaning just from reaching to stroke his length. He stretched from the bed for protection as you inched closer again. The tint of blue to his body tempted you closer, wanting nothing more than to already have him.

Edel kissed the heat falling from your cheeks down to your throat as you undressed him. The tint to his body captivated you, down to the blue hue to his dark head. He stretched back from the bed for protection, though trembled with the pad of your thumb tracing up the veins running along his length.

That shared thought brought his hands to your hips, your body lifting above him. His cock pressed to you, slick and aching, and you clenched around him when taking him deep. That sensitivity hadn't faded and dizzied you, adjusting still when he kissed you.

"I was right. My pleasure," he said, before his body moved against you, his cock dragging along your fluttering walls.

My pleasure, he'd greeted you on your first meeting, but you disagreed. Every arch of his body brought him deeper, and every kiss enticed another whimper until you were trembling so soon around him again.

"So beautiful," he whispered. His hand cradled your face, thumb running along your parted lips as he peppered touches along the column of your throat. "Everything I've ever wished for."

"Edel-"

He gasped with you as you tightened your legs around his hips, clinging to him at the returning pressure in your abdomen. The lake could wait. You wanted to spend forever in his arms, letting your head fall back so his tongue could trace down to your collarbones.

Edel grunted from your hand unravelling his hair, only to draw his lips to yours as his thumb graced your flushed clit. One firm stroke and you cried loud, your rhythm faltering as your orgasm overcame you. He continued to rub your nerves, an arm banded tight around you until he moaned your name and stiffened.

Until your breaths eased, you clutched each other close. The gentleness in his care as you rested by his side was no different than any other time, tucking an arm beneath your crown as you lazed in his hold.

You woke alone.

The bedsheets were cold, tousled and bathed in the same moonlight he had left you for. No light came from his lounge as you left in his trousers and your shirt.

The night wasn't so cold, but quiet. Each step nearing the lake matched your racing heart, and it rose to a crescendo finding him waiting in the water, reaching out to hold you when you undressed. Even if the night hadn't been cold, the water was, so you curled tighter to his chest.

"You left."

He waded deeper, kissing your temple. "I'd have been by your side before you truly woke."

"I'm awake now."

Edel breathed quietly against your hair. "I wanted you to feel free to go."

"Is that what you want?" If not for the water strengthening his embrace, you would have turned away. "For me to leave?"

His lips curled down, though he looked beyond you. "I'd rather now than later."

"Was I not clear?" Edel's shoulders softened from beneath his jaw. "It's you I want, until you want me gone."

Where his lips had been hours before, he kissed your throat, soft against your flitting pulse. It was promise enough as he cradled you to him, holding you all the way back to his bed, and neither of you planned on leaving soon.

[triptuckers]

Apple Trees - Jesper Fahey (Our Future 3/3)

Request: yes! “ Aight bestie, you know the drill, we got married, can we give him his twins now? 👀” Pairing:  Jesper Fahey x reader Summary:  after marrying jesper, you now live outside the city with your twins Warnings: slight spoilers for people who haven’t read the soc duology (and I guess people who have only watched the show) Word count:  1.2K A/N: after “our future” and “twirl for me”, here’s another part!! thank you for requesting this, and enjoy reading! 

Though you’d spent the majority of your life in Ketterdam, part of you is glad to settle down. It’s nice to be able to wake up and start the morning in peace. Some days you missed the chaotic buzzing energy of the Slat, and the city itself, which is why you still visit Ketterdam a lot.

After all, you’ve still got a lot of friends in the city. And both you and Jesper weren’t able to stay away from the city that had been your home for so long. But when you found out you were pregnant a few years back, you decided to move away.

Ketterdam simply wasn’t the kind of city you’d raise your kids in. So you bought a small farmhouse just outside the city, to start your family. It’s a good life.

Like promised, Jesper planted all of your favourite flowers in the garden, along with some apple trees. Outside the city, the houses aren’t packed together, so you could do whatever you want in the area that surrounded your home. 

There was no rush in the mornings, no dangerous jobs and no late nights. In the life you lived outside of Ketterdam, every morning was peaceful, quiet and filled with love.

You’re laying next to Jesper, gladly cuddling into his side as he softly strokes your bare arm. The two of you are enjoying some alone time before the day starts. You’re softly talking to each other, when your peaceful morning is rudely interrupted. 

The door to your room opens, and you hear running footsteps. A few moments later, two figures launch themselves on top of you, knocking the air out of your lungs. 

Apparently, your twin girls Ava and Mae had decided you could use an early start of the day.

The room fills with laughter as Jesper tickles them while smiling brightly. They laugh and try to push him away but he’s way too strong for them. The girls are quick to hide behind you.

‘Good morning to you two.’ you say over your shoulder. 

Two pairs of happy eyes look at you, messy curls falling around their face. You’re still grateful they inherited Jesper’s curls. They hide behind your shoulders when Jesper moves to tickle them again. 

Ava and Mae squeal and push themselves off the bed, dodging Jesper. After winking at them, Jesper moves to lay next to you instead, wrapping his arms around you.

Mae sticks out her tongue and makes a sound, pointing at you and Jesper. If it would be anyone else, you’d be slightly annoyed. But it’s your girl, so you don’t mind.

‘You’re the one who interrupted morning cuddles, your breakfast is going to have to wait.’ you say.

‘But I’m hungry!’ says Mae.

You turn to look at Jesper. ‘Evening cuddles, then?’ you say.

Jesper kisses your cheek. ‘Evening cuddles it is.’ he says. ‘And maybe a bit more.’ he winks at you.

You laugh and playfully slap his arm. Just as you want to respond to him, you hear Ava.

‘What’s a bit more?’ she asks. 

Your eyes widen and you push Jesper off of you as he starts to laugh at her words.

‘Who wants breakfast?’ you quickly say. 

Luckily, the thought of breakfast is enough to distract them. They are quick to race out of your room and down to the kitchen. You turn to glare at Jesper, who is still laughing.

‘I told you, don’t make comments like that when the girls are around. They tend to repeat you a lot.’ you say.

‘Sorry, love.’ says Jesper. ‘Force of habit.’

You roll your eyes but smile as well while you hold your hand out for him to take. He takes it, and the two of you head to the kitchen as well.

Ava and Mae are already sitting at the table, waiting for you to make their breakfast. You’re softly humming to yourself as you’re making breakfast, while Jesper tells the girls stories, filling the kitchen with their giggles. 

The four of you sit down and have breakfast. You’re listening to them talking, admiring them. Some days you still couldn’t believe how you got so lucky. To marry Jesper. To have two beautiful girls who are the perfect mixture of you and Jesper. Sometimes it seemed simply too good to be true.

After breakfast, Jesper gets up, announcing he’s going to harvest the apples that grow in your backyard. Without even asking him, the girls happily follow him out the door to help with the harvesting.

Thought it would probably be a lot faster if Jesper did it by himself, you know very well that the girls have him wrapped around their little fingers. He’d do anything for them.

For a while, you sit in the kitchen and enjoy your morning coffee. You listen to the laughter and voices outside, and after a while you decide to join them. You finish your coffee and head out the back door.

Jesper has lifted Mae, so she’s sitting on his shoulders. She’s gathering the apples and dropping them in a basket. You smile as you look at the two of them.

You then notice little Ava dragging her basket back to you, which is almost overflowing with apples. There’s no way she could have gathered the apples from the tall trees on her own, and Jesper had been helping Mae.

‘Ava.’ you say as she approaches you. ‘How did you get all of those by yourself?’

She looks up at you and smiles proudly. She then motions to the air.

‘The wind helped.’ she says.

You frown and share a quick look with Jesper, who puts Mae down. 

‘What do you mean the wind helped?’ you say to Ava.

Jesper walks up to you and looks at Ava’s basket. He raises his eyebrows in question at you, but you look at Ava, waiting for her to explain.

‘Like this.’ Ava simply says. She looks at the tree Jesper and Mae had been working on, and raises her little hand to it.

The tree starts to shake in the wind. Softly at first, then harder. The apples fall to the ground one by one, and Ava and Mae move to put them in the baskets. You frown as you look at the tree.

Not because Ava got all the apples, but because the tree she was focused on, was the only tree that moved in the wind.

You’re going over it again in your head, when you hear Jesper softly gasp beside you. You turn to look at him and find him looking at Ava in awe.

‘Zowa.’ he says so softly, only you can hear it.

Zowa. Blessed. Ava was Grisha. It looks like the genes had passed down from Jesper to one of your girls. You desperately needed to plan a trip to Ketterdam and visit Nina. You had a lot to talk about.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

[bearmustard]

My experience of larries based on the platforms they use

Twitter: highly enthusiastic. Think 21 is an old fan. Young and Beautiful is everyone's favourite fic, even those who've never read it. Think H & L have been together since 2010 but also will block anyone who questions babygate (this is apparently bluegreening and is not to be borne). Will say they're unlarrying for the cred/hit tweet. Very excited for Liam's wedding where Freddie and Bear will meet and H & L will be each others dates. Just as likely to be a zarry depending on the day tbh. Always looking for larrie "moots".

TiK Tok: The funny corner of the larry fandom. Almost all post hiatus larries who are constantly "uncovering" shit that people have known about since 2010. Excellent dancers. Seriously lacking critical thinking skills but what do you expect from larries willing to download an app that has such severe security issues it makes facebook look responsible and safe.

Instagram: Extremely spanish? Lots of reposting of aesthetic manips. Cute cartoons of mermaid harry, and lots of rainbows. Will post the same 6 photos of H & L over and over. Super chill, just like looking at photos of their faves, and the comments are always blue green hearts and lovely compliments. Almost no facts or discourse, which is actually kind of lovely for a break but gets repetitive after a while.

Reddit: The absolute opposite of what you would expect from reddit. Tiny. The chillest. Mostly just upvoting tik tok videos and making cute larry spongebob memes. Lots of fanfic recs, but they all seem to be imagines from Wattpad. Always posting about how confused they are by everything (especially the stunts) because they believe in larry but also think every stunt is real.

Youtube: Lost since freddieismyqueen shut their account tbh. Monthly larry proof videos. Always talking about uncovering the dark side of one direction in 40 minute videos but it's mostly just zoomed in pics of H & L looking sad while the youtuber makes disclaimers of not really knowing anything. The best part are the youtubers who just make videos with titles like '8 minutes where one direction are just absolute disasters' or '20 minutes straight of harry and Louis looking at each other'. I miss Evan.

Tumblr: Old, tired, and done with your shit, but somehow still here. Welcoming of new larries but fucked if they're gonna hold your hand. 10 years of either intricately archived and tagged masterposts or have tagged random posts over the years with whatever joke was going around at the time so sometimes the most interesting information is tagged 'harry is the breadsticks and Louis is the handbag'. Know everything straight away and have a page long analysis about it circulating within 5 mins, despite the fact that no one ever seems to actually be online. Everyone claims that they don't talk stunts or discourse. Still plenty of stunt discussion and discourse. Intricate knowledge of every time H & L did anything, mostly because no one knows when any post on this site was made so constantly placing things in context.

[artaefact]

grinchly, yours.

—wordcount: 15k+

—genre: angst, fluff, bookshop owner!reader, florist!hoseok, bookshop au, christmas au, flower shop au, s2l au

—pairing: jung hoseok x f reader

—rating: pg-15

—warnings: awkward moments, a cemetery scene, mention loss of loved ones, a soft!hobi

—summary: Christmas time is around the corner, everyone is celebrating to their heart’s content, but not you. No, you despise Christmas and the joy it brings. That is, until a friendly florist decides to pay your bookstore a visit.

author’s note: i’ve been meaning to write a character with the grinch’s personality and this story has been revolving around my head for some time !! happy reading everyone 💖 

prompt: “carolling” for @btsholidaybingo event & “winter market date” for @kdiarynet winter hearts event !!

© artaefact 2020. All rights reserved. Copying, reposting, translating, and modifying in any platform or by any means is NOT permitted.

You nearly lose it when a snowflake lands on your face — specifically, your eye — for the third time now as you pad along the asphalt road. Releasing a breath, you calm yourself. This should be a regular occurrence for you. Still, you can’t help but scowl at the sight of fake candy canes and decorated fir trees near the streets and shops, and well, basically everywhere.

Once you near your bookshop, another annoyed sigh escapes your lips when you find a group of people singing right in front of the door again. Honestly, your patience is running thin as you have once told them to not sing in front of your bookstore.

Cursing under your breath, you try not to meet anyone’s eye and opt to quickly enter your shop. However, one of the members notices you and waves at you. You recognise him as Jimin — a local baker who likes to stop by your bookstore to look for recipe books.

After responding with a brief nod at him, you unlock your door and rush inside.

It’s not even Christmas yet, so why are these people singing Christmas carols early in the morning already? The sun has barely even risen up!

A relieved sigh escapes your lips when you can’t hear the choir anymore, at least muffled by the door of your bookstore. Moving towards the cashier table, you place your messenger bag underneath it before getting to work.

Carrying boxes of books back and forth from the supply room is the daily norm for you. You find comfort hidden between the shelves while you stack the newly-delivered books neatly into their allocated place. Many would say that it’s a lonely job, especially since you refuse to hire anyone to work in your store. But you don’t. You seldom feel that way.

The soft music from the jukebox is the only thing that keeps the bookshop from falling into complete silence as you work on reshelving and rearranging the books. That is until the bell on top of the front door rings.

“Welcome!” You place the books on the wooden floor, standing up only to see Jimin peering on the aisle you’re in, smiling ear-to-ear.

Sighing internally, you ask, “What are you doing here?”

“Just wanted to pop in and say hi.”

You sit back down on the wooden floor and continue to shelf the books. “Didn’t you do that before?”

“You didn’t say a word.” He moves closer and plops down beside you.

You merely shake your head, still focusing on your task. “How many times do I have to tell you not to let those choir people sing in front of my store?”

“Right,” Jimin answers sheepishly. “You see, we are still scouting for another area and—”

“Well then, find it quicker. Why don’t they just sing in front of your bakery?”

“It’s not exactly an ideal spot for singing…”

“And the front of my store is?”

“There’s not much public transport station here—”

You huff in annoyance. “If you don’t have anything else to do besides making excuses, I would appreciate it if you leave. As you can see—” Lifting one of the books in emphasis, “—my hands are full.”

Despite your cold words, Jimin dismisses it quickly. “Well, I’m looking for a book about plants.”

“Botany?” Your brows furrow. “Did baking go wrong?”

He snorts. “As if, but my friend is looking for one. He asked me if I could get one for him.”

“Is there a particular book he’s searching for?”

Jimin hands you a piece of paper.

“Oh, I have to place an order for this one,” you utter. “I’ll send you a text when it has arrived.”

Nodding, Jimin finally stands up and is ready to leave when you call him.

“Oh, and Jimin?”

“Yeah?”

“For the last time, take your fellow choir crew somewhere else to sing.”

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

The box lands on the cashier desk with a thump before you send a message to Jimin, a week later.

[ 2:05 PM ] You: your friend’s book is here

Placing your phone on the table, you peel off the wrapping tape and open the box. The printed white letters of Guide to Gardening contrast against the pine green background of the hardcover as tiny drawn flowers scatter across the edge of the cover.

You read the synopsis curiously, wondering how someone can find garden-work interesting when your phone dings — a text notification from Jimin lights up your phone screen.

[ 2:09 PM ] Jimin: Oh! I’ll tell my friend to pick up the book himself. He should be able to swing by today.

Not bothering to reply to him, you put away the book for safekeeping — leaving Jimin on read, as usual, and get back to check your supplies, making sure everything’s in stock.

An hour or two have passed until someone enters your bookstore. “Excuse me?”

Looking up from the papers, a new customer staring at you. “May I help you?” You ask, standing up from your seat.

“I ordered a book. And my friend, Jimin, told me it has arrived.”

“Oh!” You scramble through your paper-covered desk, reaching for the book. “Are you—” You check the name it was ordered under. “—Hoseok?”

He nods, dimples appearing on his cheeks.

“Here you go.” Handing the book to him. “Is this what you were looking for?”

The subtle smile on his face turns into a bright grin as soon as he reads the title. “It is.”

“Great,” you nod. “Do you still want to take a look around, or would that be all?”

Hoseok’s gaze lingers on you, a bit too long for your liking, but he shakes his head regardless. “This would be all for now.”

“That’ll be twenty-five dollars.”

While you print the receipt, he asks, “Are you a friend of Jimin’s?”

“Acquaintance,” you correct him, handing his receipt.

“I see. May I know your name at least?” He extends his hand.

Blinking at his question, your hand moves before you can think twice about taking his hand in yours. Ignoring the way your hand fits so well in his, you introduce yourself, “Y/N.”

And a bright, bright grin appears on his face, one that you swear can light up the whole bookshop. “Hope we’ll see each other again soon, Y/N. Just recently opened up my shop near the corner of the street.” Then he makes his way out of the store, steps faltering slightly before the entrance, giving the bookstore a once-over and walks out.

The next time you meet Hoseok is when he visits your store in passing. “Hey, Y/N!” He greets you as you place a stack of books on the cashier table from the delivery box earlier.

“Hi, Hoseok...” You do not know what to make of his cheerful demeanour.

“How’s your day?”

You furrow your brows in confusion. Is he seriously asking that for no apparent reason?

“Fine, I guess,” you answer nonetheless as you rub your palms against your jeans. “Just had to clear out the storage and rearrange some shelves.”

“Do you need any help?”

You shake your head. “I’m good. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Oh! I’m looking for a book about orchids,” Hoseok explains. “It’s so hard to grow them.”

“Give me a moment, I’ll check the supplies,” you mumble, moving and clicking your mouse to find what he is searching for. Hoseok moves to a nearby aisle, looking through random books while you move to the allocated aisle of the book he wants.

Hoseok is confused for a moment as his attention is set on the little post-its on the shelf. As he takes a closer look, he realises that these are your reviews of the books. He can’t help but chuckle at how enthusiastic your reviews sound.

It’s amusing how you are interested in The Grinch.

Plucking one of the books, he makes his way to you. You are so focused on the books as he stands beside you, then he pokes your shoulder and you jolt. “Oh my—”

Hoseok apologises sheepishly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

You clear your throat. “It’s fine. I tend to tune out my surroundings when I’m focused. And, uh, here—” You hold out the book to him. “—is this it?”

Hoseok nods, smiling as he takes the book and follows behind you to the cashier. As you type in the order, he asks, “Do you like this book?” Your movements falter at his sudden question, which he notices. “I saw some stickers you posted beneath the books that seem to be your favourites.”

Cheeks growing warm at his words, you stammer, “Well, I thought it would encourage people to buy and—”

He places one of the books that you recommended on top of the book he was looking for. “I’ll get this one too.”

“But… It’s a children’s book.” You gape.

“I’m not big on reading heavy novels, Y/N. So, I think this is a good start,” he shrugs. “Plus, you recommended five stars for this and your review—”

“Okay!” You cut him off, grasping the book. “I-I get what you mean, but are you sure? You don’t have to—”

“Am I not here as your customer?”

Sighing mentally, you proceed to scan the barcode. “That will be forty-seven dollars.”

Meetings with him are refreshing, as it is odd. Hoseok would come by your bookstore once in a while — once a week or even twice. At first, you thought something was up. Definitely, since he didn’t purchase books on every visit. But what throws you off is that he would come by to drop desserts or even just a quick ‘hi’ when he is busy that day.

You’re sceptical indeed. Was there a bet being made to befriend you? But he wouldn’t have treated you to those sugar-coated doughnuts or hot chocolate if he wants money.

Deep in your own thoughts, you walk along the usual route to your store; hands tucked inside your thick coat, even ignoring the snow that’s covered your beanie.

You’re not used to this; someone just straight-up approaching you, or just enjoying being in your presence with no obligation to do so. Haven’t he heard of the rumours that surround you? In a small town where you live, he must have heard something.

Thoughts drifting back to reality, your eyes twitch as you find those carolling people in front of your store again. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you let out an annoyed sigh.

How many times should you tell them to scram? And where is Park Jimin?

You scan through the faces of the group, and he was nowhere to be found. Muttering a curse under your breath while ignoring the slight aching in your chest, you stomp towards them.

“Hello,” You plaster on a big fake smile, ceasing their singing at once. “I thought I had told one of your crew — Jimin — that you can’t sing in front of my store. Where is he, anyway?”

“He’s not joining us today,” one of the choir members answers, nonchalantly. “We didn’t know that this is a private area. I thought you only own your part of the store.”

The other choir members glance nervously at each other; their reaction an obvious contrast with this chipper, unheeding chatterbox in front of you. Gritting your teeth, you force down the curse words that are on the tip of your tongue back before clearing your throat. “Well, now, you know.” You pin down that girl who opens her loose mouth with your sharp stare. “So, I would appreciate it if you’d leave and never sing in front of my store again.”

She is about to respond when her crewmembers stop her from saying anything further, which is fortunate for her. In minutes, they pack up and finally leave.

Rubbing your temples, you make a mental note to put a sign in front of your store that says no choirs allowed, or any Christmas activities at all. After changing the ‘close’ sign to ‘open’, you place your things on the cashier table. Looking at the old jukebox fondly, you trace the intricate, beautiful designs for a little while before you turn it on. Soft jazz music fills the air instantly, and your heart warms up at that.

Deciding to have a little reading time, you pick a book from your favourite section. However, you falter momentarily when you realise it’s the same book Hoseok bought last week from your post-it recommendation. Sighing, you place the book back and pick another.

Time flies so quickly when you immerse yourself in books. By the time you check your phone, it’s afternoon already. And then the quiet atmosphere shatters when the bell of your bookstore rings.

“Y/N!” His familiar cheerful voice startles you.

“Hoseok…” You’re back again.

“I’m grabbing a bite in Jimin’s bakery, would you like to join?”

“No, I’m—” Your stomach growls loudly as if on cue.

Hoseok laughs at that, “Your stomach says otherwise. C’mon! You shouldn’t stay cooped up in your shop the whole day.”

And you can’t bring yourself to reject his offer again.

“How long have you been running your bookstore?” Hoseok asks as you both make your way towards Jimin’s bakery.

“It’s been... Five years,” you answer hesitantly.

“Oh, that’s quite long! Have you always been interested in books?”

You nod. “Yes, I’ve loved reading since I was a child.”

You didn’t realise how much you had enjoyed conversing with Hoseok until you reached Jimin’s bakery.

That was quick, you thought, at the sight of the pastel pink store.

Stepping into the bakery, Hoseok calls out, “Kookie!”

“Hyung?” The familiar man called ‘Kookie’ greets him after serving a customer with their order.

You wreck your head for his name — you know this guy. Well, have seen him with Jimin most of the time but you didn’t bother to know his name. Or actually, you did, but you forgot.

The only ones you can come up with are “John Cook’ or ‘Jungkook’. It has to be either one of those or else you’d embarrass yourself further.

“Oh, Y/N, it’s nice for you to come by!”

Screw it.

“Nice to see you too, John.”

Kookie lets out a giggle. “You can call me ‘Jungkook’ instead of my last name.”

Then it clicks. Right— it’s Jeon Jungkook. Thank the heavens ‘John’, and ‘Jeon’ sounds similar.

You feign indifference. “Alright, Jungkook.”

“Jimin is out with his girlfriend for hot chocolate, he’ll be back soon.”

As soon as you and Hoseok take a seat, Jungkook hands you both the menu before dealing with other customers.

“So... Are you sure you’re new here?” You break the silence. “Looks to me that you seem to know everyone here already.”

Hoseok chuckles at that. “Not everyone. But Jimin, Jungkook, and I go way back.”

“Ah, I see...” Then you cast your stare to the menu once more. But your attention shifts to the glass door to see Jimin and his girlfriend laughing. Not long after you catch his gaze, however, the warmth dissipates almost instantly. He stalks towards your table at once.

“What are you doing here?” Jimin seethes, eyes boring into yours as you match them equally with your icy ones.

“Ah, Jimin,” Hoseok turns to look at him. “I was grabbing something to eat, and I invited Y/N along and—”

“Y/N is not welcome here,” Jimin seethes.

Hoseok’s eyes widen before it gradually hardens at your defence. “Since when?”

But Jimin’s eyes are on you once more. “Why did you drive the choir crew away again? What did they do to you? They managed to sing a few blocks away from your store!”

“That is bullshit.” You stand up and level his gaze. “They sang in front of my store again, still disturbing the peace in my shop. And I told you to take your choir crew somewhere far to sing.”

Jimin lets out a frustrated sigh. “That’s not what they—”

“Believe whoever you want,” you cut him off, mood darkening. “And since I am not welcome here, I’ll see myself out.” Without another word, you head out of the bakery. Clutching your coat tighter to your frame, the sound of your boots thumps along the cobblestone until another pair of rapid footsteps follow behind you.

“Y/N!” Hoseok calls out, grabbing your arm. “Hey… I—” He catches his breath. “I’m sorry, Jimin is an asshole to you—”

You shake your head. “No, that’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. I—”

“Hoseok.” You turn to him. “Why do you even bother to befriend me?”

His eyes widened at that before he splutters, “B-Because, why not?”

Taking a step closer to him, you consider asking him if there is a bet going on, but decide against it. “I’ll be fine. You go back to Jimin.”

Without another glance, you turn away once more, leaving him in the midst of the cold weather.

Autumn flies away too quickly, you bitterly thought. You find yourself missing the warm colours of the town, where the crunching sound of fallen leaves will always fill the silence when you go to work or go back home. Or, spring sounds good to you too — bright, vivid flowers loitering around as the warm sun kisses your skin.

Not this whole white fiasco. Your mood always dampens when you walk out of the house, only to find the usual bright morning still dark as it takes later for the sun to rise up.

‘Achoo—!’ You let out a sneeze, wrapping the thick blanket around your form tighter. The heater of the store is cranked up to the fullest, yet the winter cold still manages to get you.

Letting out an annoyed ‘tsk’, you continuously flip through the accounting records of your store, eyes scanning the numbers to make sure no mistakes are made. Unable to focus further, you sigh.

Maybe you should do other things before getting back to these numbers.

You let out another sneeze as you trudge to the storage room, huffing in annoyance while you sniffle. Taking out an opened empty box from the shelves, you pack children books into it when your doorbell rings.

“Please wait a moment!” You quickly shove the box to an empty corner before rushing out.

“Umm,” Hoseok stands awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. “Hi…” He takes a few steps closer. “I’m sorry about yesterday—”

Posture stiffening, you cut him off, “It’s not your fault, nor it was Jimin’s fault. It was my own mistake.”

He tries to argue. “No, it’s—”

“Hoseok, it’s alright.” You reassure him, plastering on a tight smile. “Really.”

“Ah, that’s… Well, these are for you.” He extends a bouquet of orchids.

You stare at him. “W-Why…?”

“I thought it would brighten up your bookstore,” he rambles. “Uh, unless you don’t want it? It’s really fine—”

You take the bouquet from his hold, your smile turning genuine on your lips. “Thank you.”

He grins at that. “Well, I’ve got to go back to the shop. Maybe we can go out for coffee or even lunch whenever you’re free?”

When you nod in response, Hoseok’s expression lights up further. With your numbers exchanged, he waves you goodbye and exits your store. It’s quiet once again, and you merely stand there, still staring at the bright purple hues of the orchids.

Perhaps, it’s still ol’ winter outside, but it feels as though spring blooms within the walls of your bookshop now.

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

Hoseok is in a good mood; he whistles some random pop songs as he makes his way back to his shop. “I’m back!” he chirps, scrubbing his snow-covered boots against the ‘welcome’ rug.

“I was beginning to think you have lost your way,” Jungkook comments, eyes focusing at the bouquet in front of him, wrapping it up. “The next customer won’t be here until three and, wait—” He looks around frantically at the scattered flowers on the counter. “Hyung! Where are the orchids?!”

“Huh?” Hoseok feigns innocence. “I thought we had them. You’ve cut their stems right?”

“Yes, but—”

It’s kinda funny to see the usual composed Jungkook, now, panicking. Little did he know, Hoseok had taken the last of the orchids to make a bouquet for you.

“Hyung! We need orchids! The colours don’t match! And—”

Hoseok snorts. “Use the hydrangeas. They fit with whatever bouquet you’re wrapping.”

Jungkook makes a face. “It’s not going to be the same as how I pictured it, Hyung. It has a different meaning too!” However, Hoseok has gone into the changing room to change into his usual working attire. From outside, Jungkook grumbles to himself, “I don’t deserve this treatment. I helped Jimin, and now Hobi hyung too. And for what exactly?”

“So, you won’t stay cooped up in your room until New Years.” Hoseok comments, tying his apron then rolling the sleeve of his shirt till it reaches just before his elbows.

“Okay, but ‘fess up, Hyung—” Jungkook still looks unamused. “What did you do to the orchids? I know you’ve worked hard growing them so you won’t give away those flowers easily.”

“Huh,” Hoseok feigns innocence, grabbing a set of flowers to wrap. “Really? Maybe I did give it away to someone pretty, who knows.” Beautiful, in fact.

“Who?” Then Jungkook’s face turns dumbfounded as he seems to realise something. “Wait, don’t tell me it’s Y/N.”

“Why not Y/N?” Hoseok raises a brow, sparing the younger one a questioning glance.

Jungkook groans. “No, hyung, don’t you know she’s like… Unapproachable? Like even Jimin’s charm does not affect her at all. In fact, she made him angry the other day!

Hoseok mindlessly nods at Jungkook’s rambles. “Yeah, yeah…”

It goes quiet for a moment before Jungkook asks, “So… Did she throw away the flowers at once and kick you out of—”

The image of your bright eyes and soft smile engraves itself into his mind as he works on the bouquet at hand.

“No.” A smile appears on Hoseok’s face. “She loves it actually.” All that time he spent and the hard work of growing those orchids really does pay off.

“What did you say to her? I don’t think she’s the type to accept an apology gift that easily.” Jungkook tilts his head slightly, still questioning.

True. At first, he wanted to give it as an apology gift. However, at your insistence that it wasn’t anyone’s fault but your own, he thought of another reason — to brighten up your cozy bookshop with the vibrant colours of the orchids.

“Well, I thought of other reasons,” Hoseok answers vaguely, finishing the arrangement. And boy, did his heart soar when you accepted his gift afterwards.

“It’s so hard to believe…” Jungkook mumbles, focusing on his own task at hand.

Hoseok sighs. “She’s not what you guys seem to paint her to be. At least, not with me. Does anyone even try to approach her in the first place?”

Jungkook nods. “Jimin hyung did. You know how he is.” Silence falls for a few moments until Jungkook mutters, “I think she’s always grumpy when it’s Christmas season.”

“Why?”

Jungkook answers with a mere shrug. “No one knows. We just avoid her during Christmas.”

With furrowed brows, Hoseok clicks his tongue in disapproval of how people treated you. There must be a reason why you are acting this way. You weren’t a complete grouch with him, and your smile earlier proves that. If it takes hundreds of orchids to make you smile like that again — even when others say you are a grouch and your presence is unpleasant — he would gladly grow them all over again.

Sipping the gingerbread latte, you let out a satisfied hum at the burst of sweet taste on your tongue from the warm beverage. Definitely perfect for cold weather as you sit near the window, mindlessly staring out at the falling snow and the buzzing people beneath.

Hoseok has agreed to meet in the cafe. You are too stubborn to admit that you actually enjoyed his company these past few weeks. But, as soon as he texted you to meet in this cafe, you barely thought twice before agreeing.

Speaking of the devil, he sits across from you with a grin on his face. You snap out of your thoughts when your gaze zeroes in on the bouquet in front of you.

Irises.

“It’s for you.”

Blinking with furrowed brows, your voice comes out unsure. “For me…? But why?”

He lets out a sheepish chuckle, “I just think it suits you. Like those orchids.”

At his words, your heart beats faster. “I… I don’t know what to say,” you admit, gaze dropping to the bright yellow flowers, arranged prettily and pleasing to the eye. “But… Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

“Do you know what irises mean?”

You shake your head, taking the bouquet reluctantly.

“Hope and friendship,” Hoseok beams then raises his own steaming cup of coffee to you. “So, here’s to our friendship!”

Chuckling lightly, you lift your own cup.

“Right, I read the book,” Hoseok starts, earning a raised brow from you. “It’s a whole lot to digest even when it’s merely a children’s book. What makes you like it so much?”

You shrug, eyes averting from his briefly. “I just admire how the Grinch put so much effort to ‘steal’—” You quote with your fingers. “—Christmas. I mean he’s an entertaining character to read about.”

Hoseok tilts his head. “What makes him so?”

“He sticks to his plans and goes through with it. I admire his perseverance despite the hardships he has been through. And I feel the same way about Christmas as he does.”

“Do you not like Christmas?”

“Nope. Don’t like this season at all.”

“May I ask why?”

“It’s…” Your eyes are downcast, gaze on your steaming cup of coffee. “It’s a bit overrated, in my personal opinion. This season seems to force people to be happy.”

“Huh…” Hoseok sips his coffee. “I never really thought about it in that way. But I can understand. Is there anything else that makes the book so special?” Curiosity swimming in his eyes. “You mentioned in your review that it’s comforting, but how so?”

Just how on earth can this man be so observant?

You purse your lips, pondering. “Well, it’s comforting to see how the Grinch manages to have a change of—” You falter before shaking your head. “He’s just a great character.”

Hoseok nods, agreeing with you.

Then you change the subject, asking him how he got into gardening and decided to open his flower shop. Conversation flows so easily between the two of you that time flies so quickly.

When you step out of the cafe building with Hoseok, you couldn’t stop smiling as you hold on to the bouquet he gifted in hand. You walk back together, just enjoying each other’s presence. That is until you come across the carolling choir who takes notice of you, or actually, of Hoseok.

“Hobi!” One of them calls out, breaking from the group. Her puppy-like excitement exudes out of her in waves as she draws closer. And then you recognise her as the chipper chatterbox whom you never bother to learn the name of.

Hoseok greets her, “It’s good to see you.”

Then she glances at you, more specifically the bouquet of irises in your hands. “You both went on a date?”

You snort, earning a surprised glance from Hoseok and the girl. “We just got coffee, and Hoseok is nice enough to bring me these lovely flowers as a gift. But, I don’t think it’s any of your business, right?” Lifting a brow, you spare her a questioning stare — recognising that familiar face — as she fails to come up with an answer. “And shouldn’t you get back to your singing activities spreading the Christmas spirit in this public area?” Sarcasm dripping your tone.

Her gaze narrows at you as a flash of recognition crosses her. “Aren’t you the one who sent us away from our first location?”

You nod blatantly. “You were singing in front of my shop. You were disturbing.”

“That was so rude—”

“I did warn you and your group before,” You quip. “Or would you rather I call the police next time?”

Hoseok gapes at your exchange with Chatterbox seemingly at a loss. Lucky for you — well, Chatterbox actually — the tense conversation ceases as another choir member approaches you, this time a lovely-looking elder lady. “Oh, Y/N!”

You blink, expecting her to recognise Hoseok instead since the boy is a social butterfly and probably know half of the townspeople already. “Y-You know me?” Her delicate features are somewhat familiar.

“Well, of course, I do! I volunteer in the or—”

And it clicks. “Oh!” You cut her off loudly. “Oh, nice to meet you!” Hoping the pleading look you send her can stop her from blurting other things besides pleasantries. Fortunately, she gets the message as she smiles knowingly at you before glancing at Hoseok who is utterly quiet as Chatterbox talks his ear off while he mindlessly nods.

“I should get back to my store,” you explain.

The lady smiles warmly, reducing her voice to a whisper, “Hope you come to visit us again this year.”

“I won’t miss it,” you reply with a smile of your own.

Her eyes light up at that. “And Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

“Have a good day, Miriam.”

And when you finally turn your attention to Hoseok, he’s already looking at you mouthing, You want to go?

You give him a brief nod. He smiles, bidding Chatterbox goodbye. But what nearly sends your heart into overdrive is that he strides to you and grabs your hand as if it’s the only natural thing to do.

“Slow down!” You huff as Hoseok turns briefly to give you a cheeky smile.

“I thought you couldn’t wait to get out of there,” he teases, steps slowing down. Your hand goes limp, but instead of letting go of your hand, Hoseok interlaces his fingers with yours.

“I couldn’t wait to get out of there myself,” Hoseok comments. “I thought my ears were going to fall off.”

Letting out a chuckle, you tease, “I thought you were enjoying her company.”

Hoseok shakes his head. “She was mean to you. I don’t like that.”

At his words, you stumble on your steps. If it isn’t for his fast reflexes, you would be face-planting to the ground. “Ah, t-thank you.”

He chuckles, “No problem.”

And you curse your own heart for beating faster at his smile.

“She’s not bad, Jimin.”

“Yeah, right.” Jimin huffs, wiping the table aggressively. “Until she decides to piss you off all the time.”

“What did she do to you?”

“Don’t even get me started.” Jimin clicks his tongue in annoyance. “She literally said to take the choir crew away from her store, and Ellie—”

“Ellie…?” Confusion is written all over Hoseok’s face.

“The girl who likes you,” Jimin sighs.

“Who???”

Jimin makes a face. “For someone who flirts easily, you’re awfully dense to someone else’s feelings.”

Hoseok lets out an unamused snort. “I don’t flirt—”

“You gave Y/N flowers,” Jimin gives him a pointed look.

“How did—” Hoseok comes to a realisation. “—right, Jungkook.” he mumbles before he explains, “It was supposed to be an apology gift—”

“And then yesterday you empty your supply of iris flowers too to give her for no apparent reason—”

“The kid should really learn to shut his mouth.” Hoseok groans, his cheek heating in embarrassment.

“—if that isn’t called flirting—”

“Jimin, you flirt with everyone too.”

“That’s different, hyung. I charm people.”

Hoseok sighs. “We’re going off track here.”

“Okay, so I had told the choir members to sing a few blocks away from her store. But, she drove them away again!” Jimin slaps the table with the cloth.

Hoseok scrunches his eyebrows. “What do you mean a few blocks away? Y/N said she found them in front of the bookstore again.”

“That’s not what Ellie told me.”

“I still don’t know who Ellie is, but I think there’s a whole misunderstanding here.”

“No, hyung. There is no clear proof—”

“Did you ask the other choir members?” Hoseok asks before sighing. “I mean, shouldn’t there at least be a few other witnesses that can confirm where exactly they were singing?”

“The entire choir said so.”

“Did they actually tell you that? Or did only Ellie tell you that and you assumed it was the whole choir crew’s answer?”

Jimin purses his lips.

“Y/N is not the type to lie, Jimin. It’s not fair to her if you only consider one person’s point of view. And I saw how unhappy Y/N was that day. Don’t you think you should’ve confirmed it with other people first before jumping to conclusions?” Hoseok lets out another disgruntled sigh.

Jimin goes silent, seemingly pondering at Hoseok’s words.

“And I invited her here—” Hoseok points at the ground, indicating the bakery. “—that afternoon, since she likes your sugar doughnuts. And other things you bake. Thought it might cheer her up, but look how it went.” He raises his arms in exasperation.

“She tried it? She never even stepped into the bakery until she came along that time with you!”

“Well…”

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

[ flashback ]

“___, I’ll take more of these home today!” Hoseok lifts up his hand that’s holding the powdered doughnut.

Jimin’s girlfriend nods. “Anything else?”

“Oh! Your caramel cookies too, please.”

She nods again. “Coming right up.”

A few minutes later, Hoseok steps out of the bakery with a paper bag in hand. His nose is buried in his scarlet scarf, and he hums a soft tune while padding through the snow-covered sidewalk. As he gets closer to your dimly-lighted bookstore, his glove-covered hands start to grow clammy while his heart beats a tad faster.

“Y/N~” He calls out after the bell of the doorstep rings.

You scramble up to your feet from your slouching position behind the cashier register, wide-eyed. “H-Hoseok? What are you—” Your words falter when he lifts up the paper bag in his hold, grinning at your confused state.

“I brought some sweets.” He stops right in front of you, placing down the bag before opening it. “So… I got some powdered doughnuts…” He takes it out. “I hope you like them.”

“Well, yes. But—”

He puts the paper-wrapped doughnut on your hand. “Go ahead, try it.”

“I…”

“Or do you want me to feed you?” Hoseok teases, raising up the other doughnut towards your mouth. “Then here, ah—”

You take a step back, avoiding his reach before taking a bite out of your doughnut. He laughs at your pout while you chew, patiently waiting until you swallow it. “So...?”

Nodding slowly, you observe the bitten doughnut for a few moments then snap your gaze at him. “Thank you. This is really good.” You take another bite of the doughnut, fighting back the instinct to smile.

“Great! Now, try the caramel cookies!”

“Wait, but I—”

Hoseok plucks the doughnut from your hold, replacing it with a caramel cookie and urges you to try it and you comply.

“Where did you get this?” Eyes full of wonder as you stare at the cookie.

“Jimin’s bakery.”

“What? No way.”

Hoseok tilts his head in curiosity. “You’ve never tried his baked goods before? Even after months the bakery has opened?”

You shake your head. “Never had the chance. I assumed it’s nothing special. But now…”

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

[ present time ]

“She said what?” Jimin gapes, not sure if he heard what Hoseok said was right.

Hoseok repeats, “She likes your sugar doughnuts and caramel cookies. She said they were ‘excellent delicacies’ when she tried them.” More precisely, you said, I suppose despite his absurd personality, he still makes excellent delicacies. But Hoseok knows better than to say that.

Jimin is downright speechless at your compliment.

“Anyways,” Hoseok clears his throat. “As I was saying, I frequently visit her, and on that day she wasn’t happy at all, Jimin. So, I didn’t visit her that morning to let her cool off and visit her during the afternoon.”

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

[ flashback ]

Hoseok gazes up from his phone when the streetlight turns green. Shoving the device into his coat’s pocket, he crosses the street. From the corner of his eye, your bookstore comes to his view, and a smile appears on his face. As he draws nearer, his steps grow lighter. That is until he peeks in from the window and notices a deep frown on your face. He falters, weighing his own thoughts on whether or not to approach you at this moment. And he decides against it and plans to visit you in the afternoon instead to let you cool off from, perhaps, an argument.

And off he goes, still passing by your store; still purposefully slowing down his steps to see you through the stained glass window for longer, to see if you’re okay. He’s surprised at the sight of you tracing your jukebox slowly, gazing at it fondly. It must have meant so much to you, he assumes. Smiling softly, Hoseok continues down the pathway to his flower shop.

It’s nearly midday when a familiar face from Jimin’s choir group visits him. She waves at him. “Hobi!”

“Welc—”

“So, glad to see you again!” The girl squeals as she reaches him at the counter.

“Hi…”

“How are you?”

“Good and uh, shouldn’t you be singing with your choir members?”

Her face falls slightly at his question before she scoffs, “It’s cancelled because someone was so rude. She just told us to scram. Like who does that? We’re spreading the Christmas spirit! Everyone should be happy, especially at this time of year!”

And Hoseok instantly has an inkling of who this someone is. “I don’t think we have the right to judge someone. Everyone has their own problems, after all.”

She seems genuinely shocked by Hoseok’s words. But Hoseok didn’t bother waiting for her response as he said, “If you aren’t planning to buy anything, I would appreciate it if you leave. There are other customers here. And I would listen to Y/N if I were you.”

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

[ present time ]

“I’m sorry.”

You raise a brow at the unexpected guest who is standing right in front of you, eyeing him briefly before shifting your attention to the man beside him.

“What are you both doing here?” You ask. “More specifically, what are you doing here?” Your gaze snaps back to Jimin, who is huffing in annoyance with his arms crossed against his chest — looking like he was just scolded by, you presume, the grinning man beside him. So you ask, “Hoseok, what is this?”

“I talked some sense into him,” he replies, elbowing Jimin not-so-subtly.

“I am here to apologise, Y/N. For the way I reacted in the bakery—”

Your stare narrows. “I thought we’re past that. And I told you it was my fault.”

“Would you please let me finish?” Jimin asks in a surprisingly polite manner. You assume he’s trying his best not to get frustrated further with you since, well, you always have that irritating presence during this time of the year and have the knack to run his patience thin. “I also want to apologise for assuming the worst of you.”

Now that catches you off-guard. Your silence spurs him on.

“I contacted the choir members and told them to not sing in front of your store. And I told them to sing at least a few blocks away. I should have confirmed their location with you instead of blindly trusting the people I barely interact with outside of choir activities—”

Not like we interact much either, you thought but hold back your tongue.

“—and it was my mistake for doing that. I only recently found out that they were really in front of your store—” He glances Hoseok, unamused. “—Hyung had contacted the choir people and had them confirm that they were singing in front of your store. Which is why—”

The sudden burst of your door opening startles the three of you.

“You brought her here?” Your expression clearly shows disdain at the sight of Chatterbox strutting in like she owns the place. And you wish nothing but to kick her out at this moment because she’s like an impending doom that’s about to befall your bookstore.

“No, we didn’t—” Hoseok looks flustered.

“I’m here to spread the Christmas spirit to Y/N!” Chatterbox claims with a few drinks in her hand. “Since she seems to hate our singing so much, I thought a few drinks will ease her up for Christmas!”

“Did she follow us?” Hoseok hisses to Jimin who looks just as flustered.

“I thought she should apologise to Y/N too.”

“Clearly, she has the wrong idea about this meeting,” Hoseok groans. However, just before Jimin can respond, a crash cuts him off.

It feels as if time is slowing down and your heart drops when she trips over one of the antique rugs and spills on…

“No!” You lurch forward — figure blocked by the counter you’re standing behind — towards the jukebox that’s drenched in eggnog, regarding it with widened eyes and trembling hands in the air.

“Oh, I’m sorry…” Chatterbox whispers, standing up straight on her feet. “I… I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

You clench your fists as you snap your head towards her, eyes blazing. “Get out.”

“But the drinks—”

“I said, get out!” Rarely do you ever raise your voice, but you are already trembling in anger as no one made a single move. You grab Chatterbox, pulling her along with such strength that she struggled against your iron-like grip.

“I said I was sorry!”

“Well, ‘sorry’ doesn’t cut it!” You seethe, shoving her out like a ragdoll. Jimin approaches you carefully and tries to appease you, but you shake your head. “Now, this is your fault.”

Hoseok looks downright devastated as he watches you. “Y/N…”

“Get out, leave me alone.”

There are no other words but warmth and pure joy that can describe the sight of children excitedly rushing towards you; they are all giggling and squealing.

“Uh, please don’t block the way,” you huff. Stopping momentarily, you lift a knee to support your hold on the heavy box briefly to prevent it from slipping down.

“Y/N,” Miriam greets you with a warm smile on her face. “So glad that you can make it.”

“Of course,” you reply, crouching to place the heavy box on the wooden floor of the living room. Taking off your gloves, you ask, “Where’s Helen?”

“She’s staying with her grandson for a couple of days; said something about a family Christmas reunion.”

“Ah…” You tear open the duct tape and take out the children’s books you packed a few weeks ago. “Well, then—”

“Y/N! Are you going to read us a Christmas story this time?” One of the children — Amy — asks with a big smile on her face.

“I shouldn’t… Maybe Helen can read to you once she’s back—” Words die on your throat at the expectant — hopeful — gazes of the children that have gathered in the warm living room. “Okay… Maybe one book won’t hurt—”

The children squeal happily.

“—so, you guys pick whichever book you want, and I’ll read it to you.” Then they rush to the opened cardboard box. You make yourself comfortable against the velvet cushions that’s spread on the rug-covered floor. While the children are busy discussing which book would be their pick, you fish out your phone from the pocket of your discarded coat only to realise that Helen had sent you a message that she won’t be in the orphanage tonight.

After replying to her with some reassurance — that you’d take over the story-telling position just for today — your fingers hover over Hoseok’s unread messages from yesterday night. Well, since the day you told him to get out of your bookstore in your fit of rage.

Hoseok constantly messaged you about many things — asking how you are doing, if you want to go out to get some coffee, or even just ramble about his day. You read all of them through the notifications from your phone — the ones that are not cut off by the message bubble — and your heart aches just a little more.

“This one!” Amy runs up to you, handing the book before taking the spot right next to you.

When you read the title, you falter. “Wait, are the others okay with this or are there any books you’d like me to read?” You look around at the children who are already in their respective seats surrounding you in a half-circle; they nod eagerly.

Letting out a sigh, you purse your lips for a brief moment. “Alright then—” You lift the book up; front cover facing the children. “How the Grinch Stole Christmas…”

Then you flip the book open and begin reading the story…

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

By the time you have finished reading the book, it’s nearly midnight; most of the children have fallen asleep with a content smile on their faces. You make it your mission to help Miriam tuck them into their beds since Helen is not here tonight.

“I really appreciate what you did today, Y/N.” Miriam follows you out of the building, stopping on the doorway.

“It’s not a problem, really.” You put on your gloves.

“But I really appreciate it, Y/N. And you know you will always be welcomed here.” Miriam reminds you.

You let out a sheepish chuckle. “Thanks, Miriam. Maybe I’ll come back and help around.”

She pulls you in for a hug. “The children love you. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled whenever you decide to come visit.”

After exchanging a few more words, you leave the orphanage and walk into the winter night. Gradually, your thoughts take you to Hoseok once more. You’d be lying if you don’t miss his presence and it has been just a few days since the incident. However, you just can’t find the right words to explain yourself, not when Christmas Eve is nearing.

Shaking your head, you keep your gaze low; eyes focusing on the snow-covered streets while the night grows darker with only street lanterns dimly lighting up the pathway. Just as you pass a particular house, loud laughter catches your attention, causing your legs to stop abruptly.

Through the bright window, you watch silently at what seems to be a Christmas gathering. You recognise some people who live in the same neighbourhood as you; even Jimin and Jungkook are there and… And Hoseok. Their smiles are so warm, and they seem to be enjoying themselves as they sit by the fireplace. The lively atmosphere inside the warm room is a definite contrast to the quietness of the night outside.

Letting out a sigh, you stop watching and continue on your way; once you arrive at your house, you mutter weakly, “I’m home…” After taking off your boots and gloves, you tug off your coat, brushing off the snow before you hang it on the coat hanger. Making your way towards the dark kitchen, you flip the light on and boil some water.

While waiting for it, your own mind seems to have an internal battle of its own. After that incident, you think it’s better to revert back to your old self who has no worries in being alone. However, after spending time with those children — it’s hard to admit, but you know you can’t be alone at this time of year. Spending time buried between pages of a book no longer distracts your thoughts, nor does sorting out books that are usually enough to distract you.

Opening the cabinet, you take out a box of your favourite tea, placing it on the counter. Looking back at the opened cabinet, you falter for a moment, staring at the unused mugs labelled ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’. With pursed lips, you quickly take your own mug and close the cabinet.

Rain drizzles down onto the asphalt path while the repeated sound of Hoseok’s footsteps crunching fills the empty air. He avoids the wet snow, treading carefully to not soak his boots further in this weather. Rain during winter is perhaps one of the things Hoseok considers unpleasant, but it reflects his current mood despite today being Christmas Eve.

Crossing the familiar street with an opened umbrella in hand, he lets out a sigh into the cold air, fog coming out with his exhale. Growing nearer to your dark bookstore, his heart grows heavier with each step. He stops momentarily and peeks inside your darkened bookstore, then his shoulders drop in disappointment.

Arriving at his store, he closes his umbrella before entering. Hoseok rubs the sole of his boots against the ‘welcome’ rug, shaking the umbrella to shed the remaining frozen droplets on the material.

Jungkook — already onto his task of assembling bouquets — spares a glance at the older man. “No luck?”

Releasing a heavy sigh, Hoseok mutters a ‘no’, passing by the counter gate and into the employee changing room.

It’s been more than a week since anyone has seen you. There has always been warm light filtering out through the window of your bookstore. However, now, your bookstore is completely dark as if life itself has been snuffed out of it.

Tugging off his thick coat, Hoseok places it on the hanger then takes the usual apron, tying it around his waist.

Hoseok wonders what had happened; the expression on your face was unlike anything he had ever seen… And, he really wants to reach out, but you have seemingly disappeared without a trace. As he’s rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt, he’s still deep in thought, that is until Jungkook gasps rather loudly.

“What’s wrong, Jungkook?”

But his movements stop completely when he hears a familiar voice — the voice he has been dying to hear again. In seconds, he barrels out of the room slamming the door albeit too loudly, startling Jungkook and…

“Y/N…” He stands in shock, still processing that you’re here.

“Hey,” you say nonchalantly, “I’d like a bouquet of chrysanthemums and dahlias, please.”

The three of you lapse into silence for a few moments until Jungkook mutters, “I’ll… Work on them... Yeah...” Jungkook snaps his finger while pursing his lips. “I’ll do just that…” Jungkook gets to work immediately, leaving you both near the main counter as he scuffles around the shop where the chrysanthemum and dahlias are.

Your gaze wanders along the neatly placed shelves on your side, and the various colourful flowers that’s set in silver-coloured buckets. It’s your first time visiting his store, and it is unexpected, alright. After your “disappearance”, you’re now here as if nothing has happened.

“I texted you…” Hoseok mumbles, earning your attention on him. “I called you too; visited your store a few times. What happened?”

“I needed time to get myself together,” you answer, fiddling with the button of your black coat.

“Why didn’t you call or at least let me know you’re okay? You had me really worried.”

“Because it’s none of your business.” You speak monotonously, but it still manages to strike at his heart.

Hoseok clenches his fists. “Right… My friend’s business is none of my concern.”

You exhale at that but still keep your mouth shut. Even as Jungkook timidly passes by you with the wrapped bouquet. Right after you pay for the flowers, you rush out.

Hoseok releases a breath that he did not even know he was holding. And he can feel his heart squeezing in pain.

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

In silence, standing in front of the two tombstones — with an umbrella on one hand — you lay the bouquet between them. One shoulder is drenched from the rain, but you don't find it in yourself to care; not at this moment when all you can think about are your parents and that tragic day.

Countless of tears you have shed on the same day, each year; though it has been half a decade since then. But your heart still lays heavy in your chest, borderline suffocating in the middle of the quiet cemetery. And it feels as if it just happened recently.

Tearing your gaze away from the tombstone, you look up to the cloudy sky and blink rapidly — adamant about not letting any tears fall this year. With a deep breath, you look back down and leave.

The cold isn’t the worst when you walk back. Usually, you would even cry on the way home thinking about your parents. But this time, your mind persistently drifts to the disappointment on Hoseok’s face from earlier, unable to forget as if it is burned into your mind.

Biting your trembling lower lip, your steps grow faster to your bookstore. You promised Miriam you would come to visit the orphanage and bring more books for the children.

Arriving at the front door, you slot in the key and are about to unlock the door when you freeze momentarily, body seizing as your brows furrow. Taking a slow deep breath, you open the door and darkness greets you as usual. Closing the door behind you, the sound of your boots clicking on the wooden floor fills the air as you make a beeline towards the storage. Flicking the light on, your eyes search for the packed box on the corner, lifting it up in your arms once you find it before turning the lights off.

Walking between the shelves towards the front door, the jukebox appears in your sight. As everything that happened comes rushing back, you move towards it — dropping the box on the floor, nearly tripping over it — and your eyes looking around it frantically. “It should work now…” You mumble to yourself, at the now-cleaned jukebox and after letting it dry for days. You click the usual button, and wait…

And wait…

And…

“No…” Hands trembling, you make an attempt and press the button once more, but it just won’t turn on. “Please, please, please…” You begin to plead, tears welling up in your eyes and again you press the on button. This is the last resort, after all. You’ve called all the possible service stores that fix instruments and jukeboxes, but they all had the same response, ‘We’re sorry, this model is too old.’

“I’m sorry…” You whimper, knees giving out as a sob escapes your lips. “I’m sorry…”

The last piece of memory of your parents ceases. And your heart has never felt so cold on the night of Christmas Eve.

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

When the fiftieth sigh escapes Hoseok’s lips, Jungkook spares him an empathetic glance as he does his task. “You should talk to her.”

“I don’t think she wants to.”

“Huh… That sounds so unlike you,” Jungkook muses as he cleans up the counter. “And you’ve been brooding all day.”

“I do not brood.”

“Tell that to the five customers the usual all-sunshine-and-rainbow florist has scared away today,” Jungkook remarks and stops cleaning to face Hoseok. “You should talk to her, Hyung. It hasn’t stopped you before. What changed?”

���I… I don’t...” Hoseok falters, searching for an answer. “She’s my friend, I…”

“You…?” Jungkook nods with a know-it-all look, urging the older one to continue.

Hoseok narrows his stare at the younger one. “You’re mocking me.”

“Nope,” Jungkook says, emphasising the ‘p’ with a pop. “I mean, you have always been forward with your feelings, and I really admire that. Unlike, you know, Jimin—” He pauses. “—please don’t tell him that, but yeah, what’s stopping you now?”

“I just—” Hoseok releases a deep sigh. “—I don’t want to lose her, not after everything. And she’s the type of person who really values her space. I can’t just barge in and demand to make everything alright. She’ll come around, and she’ll show it when she’s ready.”

Jungkook purses his lips, seemingly in deep thought.

“Aren’t you gonna say anything?” Hoseok asks in frustration.

“I think I know why…” Jungkook mutters.

“Why Y/N is acting the way she did?”

“No, not exactly,” Jungkook answers. “But on why she hates Jimin’s guts, ‘cuz you know, he tends to not read the situation he’s in and go all in without thinking of the consequences—”

Hoseok makes an attempt to cut Jungkook off. However, Jungkook raises his hand to stop Hoseok as he continues, “—but you—” Jungkook gives Hoseok a pointed look. “— you tend to read the situation you’re in and that’s a good thing. So, I suggest, instead of moping around, you can just go to her and see how she is doing? See if she wants to talk and if she does, you talk, and if not, then you can leave.”

Blinking, those words sink into Hoseok’s mind. “That’s actually… A great idea…”

“Yeah, wonder why no one has thought about it, but ends up scaring away customers instead,” Jungkook retorts and clears his throat at the glare Hoseok sends his way. “Which, you know, is okay since we’re humans, after all, right? We make mistakes. And the only thing we can do is try to make up for it.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes at that before chuckling. “You’re right, JK.”

“I know I— I mean, am I?”

Hoseok clicks his tongue. “Right, okay. So, I’ll go check on Y/N. And since it’s already closing hours—” He glances at the wall clock while untying his apron. “—you can just close up today.”

“What?”

But Hoseok ignores him and runs straight into the changing room to grab his coat. Once he goes out, he tosses the key to Jungkook. “I’m entrusting you with it.”

“Wait, but—”

“See you tomorrow!”

And Hoseok rushes out of his store, leaving a baffled Jungkook behind.

Hoseok scores a new record in the number of minutes it takes for him to reach your bookstore. However, his shoulder droops as the last bit of his hope vanishes at the sight of the dark place.

So, you had left. Or still not coming in.

He steps closer to the window, futilely peeking inside. After a few moments, he sighs in disappointment, putting his hands inside the pocket of his long plaid coat. Just as he’s about to leave, he stops — furrowing his brows when…

Is that a whimper?

Curiously, he goes near the door once more and makes an attempt to turn the knob and it opens. Eyes widening, he enters quickly into the darkness. And there he can finally (barely) see your hunched figure on the floor beside your antique jukebox, burying your face as your arms are wrapped around your knees… Crying?

“Y/N?” He calls out in hesitance, taking a few steps closer. You look at him and Hoseok braces for you to tell him to get out.

But instead, all you can mumble is his name. “Hoseok…”

“Hey…” Slowly, Hoseok crouches on one knee to meet your gaze. “I’m here.”

You merely stare at him, unmoving.

“You’re not alone anymore, Y/N,” he says, softly. “I’m here.”

Throat bobbing, more tears flow down across your cheeks. Hoseok opens his arms. “Come here.”

One moment you are still unmoving, and the next you wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. Hoseok leans back — both knees on the floor now — one hand gently pats your head while the other arm keeps you close to him.

“Let it all out. I’m here now,” He whispers, letting your face rest against the crook of his neck. “You’re not alone. Not anymore.”

[ flashback ]

It should have been a happy time for Hoseok as he gathers with all the people he cares about. Well, not all of them when you have not even read his texts. He scrolls through his phone mindlessly, staring at the texts he had sent over the past few days.

Hoseok [18/12]: Hey… how’re you feeling? I brought some sugar doughnuts today but you weren’t working today :( i hope everything’s well

Hoseok [20/12]: Y/N, i’m really sorry about what happened. Please let me know if you need anything

Hoseok [21/12]: you know i hate it when it rains so hard during the winter, i swear i came into my shop with icicles hanging on my face and jungkook had to say that i looked like that squirrel from ice age 😭 anyway, i met a tough customer today… I spent three hours waiting for them to choose which flowers they’d like for their bouquet. Even jungkook was close to combusting as well. it was torture 😢

Hoseok [22/12]: Hey, so we’re having a christmas celebration tomorrow, would you like to come? It’ll be fun!

Hoseok [23/12]: hey, Y/N! I was wondering if you’re going to make it to the celebration?

But that last text was hours ago and you had remained unresponsive. Hoseok sighs harshly and his emotions overwhelm him. And he lets himself think if you’re worth all the trouble and turmoil he’s facing.

“Something on your mind, dear?” His grandmother asks, placing one comforting hand on his knee. “I know that look on your face all too well. Your father used to have that look whenever he’s in deep thought. So, let me guess, is it a girl?”

Hoseok blinks a few times, flustered at his grandmother’s guess. “Yes, but well, no? Not really?”

“Who is it? I never heard any news about your love life. And now, your dear grandmother is absolutely curious,” she says, laughing with mirth lighting up her crinkled eyes.

Hoseok smiles softly at his grandmother before he relents and tells her all about you. At the mention of your name, he swears his grandmother just smiles a tad wider.

“It’s about time she finds someone,” she mutters to herself but Hoseok still hears it anyway.

“You know Y/N, Grandma?”

She nods. “Y/N used to live in the orphanage a few years ago… Poor thing.”

Hoseok gapes at that. “I… Never knew.” His heart twisting painfully in guilt and worry. “I’ve always assumed she had a really bad past since she never talks about it.”

“Definitely traumatising for someone so young to face heavy losses.” His grandma explains. “She dealt with most of it on her own, and… She may come across as cold, but she isn’t cruel, she’s just closed off,” Helen says softly. “But I guess you know that already?”

Hoseok nods.

“So, don’t give up on her. I think right now, she needs someone more than ever. She has had no one to lean on for so long.”

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

[ present time ]

You stare silently at the crackling flames with a blanket wrapped around your frame and for some time your mind stays quiet after you have emptied out your pent-up emotions. Hoseok busies himself in the kitchen for a few minutes, and brings out two mugs of hot chocolate.

After your cry fest in the bookstore, Hoseok has taken you to his place for some hot chocolate he received from his grandmother, who had insisted that he should let you try it even when you know nothing of her. You rejected the offer at first, not wanting to bother him more after your breakdown. But Hoseok being Hoseok, from the time you have gotten to know him, you’ve learned that he can be very persuasive and persistent. And now, here you are, where he claims is his humble abode.

One thing for sure, this place screams Hoseok. It’s definitely more to the cozy side despite some unique furniture you spot decorating the place.

“Thank you,” you murmur, taking a mug from his extended hand as he takes a seat beside you on the couch.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better...” You take a sip of the hot chocolate, sweetness spreading across your tastebuds. And you resist the urge to hum in delight.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Hoseok shifts his gaze from the flames to you.

“Why did you help me?” You blurt out. “I mean, you didn’t have to… Like just now, and after the way I treated you, usually people would... Leave.”

Hoseok ponders for a moment. “Maybe it’s because they don’t know you like I do.”

“But we just met each other not too long ago.”

“And that’s enough for me to get to know you, at least some part of you. And as I’ve mentioned before, I would really like to get to know you even better.”

“I don’t think you really do…” You mumble, staring into the half-finished hot chocolate.

Hoseok snorts at that. “You’re someone who really values her space and if someone dares to cross that line you’ll give them hell for it.”

His facial expression softens further as he continues, “And you’re also someone who knows how to stand up for herself, not needing anyone to defend you. You don’t care what others think of you because you already know your own worth.”

You stare at him wide-eyed.

“Do you need me to continue? Because I still have more and—”

“Hoseok… I’m not— I don’t think I’m a nice person to be around...” you admit.

“That is the most ridiculous sentence I’ve ever heard in my entire life,” Hoseok scoffs. “So you’re telling me someone forced you to donate children books to the orphanage and read to those children?” He recalls the pictures his grandmother showed him the other day — of you reading to the children and having a pleasant time with them.

Blinking, you gape at him. “H-How did—”

“My grandma told me.” Hoseok is now looking at you, unamused. You shoot him a confused look as he explains further, “Helen is my grandmother. And I may not know what you have gone through, Y/N. But I told you I’m here and you don’t have to face things on your own now.”

You look away from his gaze, unable to keep looking into his intense stare any longer.

“Why do you hate Christmas?”

You stiffen at his question as it becomes silent between the two of you besides the crackling sound of flames. Hoseok sighs after a few moments, placing his hand on your arm briefly as if to say ‘it’s alright’ then standing up from the couch.

Just as he’s about to step into the kitchen, you blurt out, “I loathe Christmas.” And his steps falter, he turns slightly to look at you fiddling with the mug nervously. “I hate anything that has to do with Christmas because like I once told you, this season seems to force people to be happy. It doesn’t care whether or not you’re hurting inside, no consideration of how people truly feel in the heart. And I gradually find it pointless and fake.”

You shut your eyes tightly. “I… I lost my parents on Christmas Eve.” And the image of the car flipping upside down still vivid in your mind and you can hear the crash as clear. “I don’t deserve to feel happy, not when I should’ve gone with them at the incident. I-I should have gone with them. It's n-not fair that they’re gone and I’m here and alone and if I’m happy while they’re not here—” you blabber, hands shaking rapidly. “It’s not fair and now, I’ve failed them, I lost them— Their jukebox is broken and I can’t do anything about it,” you whimper. “Just like that day.”

“Y/N…” And you didn’t realise Hoseok is already in front of you, crouching. He lays his hand gently on yours after taking your mug, placing it on the coffee table. “Look at me,” he stares up into your eyes, gaze so warm and gentle that you might even break down again. It’s been a long time since someone looked at you that way. “You can’t take responsibility over the things that are out of your control.”

“And what you had gone through is unimaginable, but do you think you’ve punished yourself enough, even though it’s not your fault? You stopped letting yourself enjoy life itself and — correct me if I’m wrong — your parents wouldn’t want that for you,” Hoseok says. “Would they want you to be trapped in your past?”

You let his words sink in.

“And despite your jukebox not working anymore, that doesn’t mean that your parents are gone.” Hoseok grips your forearm, lifting your right hand to place it on top of your heart. “They live in you. You’re their daughter after all. The jukebox only serves as a memory of them, but surely, you have other memories of them.”

After all this time, you realised that’s what you needed to hear — you haven’t failed your parents, despite everything.

“And looking at how you’ve grown into this amazing woman that I have the privilege to get to know, I’m definitely sure your parents are proud of you.”

Face crumpling, your palm covers your eyes as another sob escapes your throat.

Sitting again next to you, Hoseok coos and gathers you in his arms. “Cry all you want, I’m here, love. I’m here…”

And you cried again, the hardest you’ve done in a long time.

Once you have calmed down, you murmur, “They used to dance around the house a lot...” Tear-stained cheek resting against his chest as you find yourself curled up on his lap. “Hanging socks and filling them with candies, claiming that they’re for the elves that visit late at night.”

Hoseok leans against the throw pillows, quietly listening as you tell stories of how your parents used to love the winter season. His warmth comforts you and your still-aching heart.

That night you fell asleep in his arms; the last bit of your emotions all used up, but your heart definitely feels lighter than the past years.

Knocking on the wooden door, you clear your throat, hearing scurrying footsteps before the door opens.

“Y/N!” Miriam exclaims. “I was so worried, you didn’t show up yesterday.”

“Sorry, something came up yesterday and I didn’t realise how late it was when I was done. But I bring another couple of books?” You lift up the box in your hands in emphasis.

Miriam lights up at that. “Well, come on in. The children will be so happy. They are excited to—”

“Oof—!” The loud thump behind you causes you to turn to see Hoseok huffing, catching his breath — one hand on his knee as he sits on the stairs — another box on top of the stoop. “I didn’t realise how much book you’ve packed, Y/N.”

Snorting, you place the box you’re holding on your left hip and extend your right hand to him, instinctively, to help him up. “C’mon, the children are inside and we should help to unpack the boxes first.” He takes your hand and pulls himself up, nearly stumbling and having his face close to yours.

As if his piercing gaze locks you in a trance, you stare back until he murmurs, “Well, someone is looking beautiful today.”

Spluttering, you let go of his hand, face burning. “Let’s go.”

Hoseok laughs at your embarrassment before he lifts up the box on the floor and makes his way inside, passing by Miriam who’s waiting by the door.

When you step inside, Miriam whispers, “Is he—?” Her tone lace with curiosity as a teasing smile appears on her lips.

“Uh, no, he’s not my boyfriend—” You say too quickly, flustered.

“Well, I meant to ask if he is Helen’s grandson, but I see.” Miriam fails to stifle a big smile now. “You two would look really good together.”

You curse yourself, walking faster as Miriam laughs behind you, closing the door. When you reach the living room, the children are already waiting and once you step into their view, they squeal happily.

“Y/N! Y/N!” Amy waves to you giddily. “Hobi says you brought more books for us!”

“H-Hobi…?” You blink. Snapping your gaze towards said man who is already looking at you intently and you avert your gaze once more to the grinning children. “Umm, yeah. I do.” You sit beside Hoseok, tearing the tape off the boxes you two brought in.

This time you brought in colouring books and other story books.

“Can Hobi read to us today?” One of the children asks.

You shift your gaze to his surprised face, a teasing smile appears on your face. “Yeah, Hobi, you should read to them today.”

Hoseok narrows his gaze at you before leaning close to whisper, “You should call me ‘Hobi’ from now on.” Then he turns to the children, smiling. “Alright, I’ll read for today. And which book do you want to read?”

“Which one is your favourite, Hobi?” Another kid — Ian — asks, curiously looking through the books.

“Well…” Hoseok scans through the titles of the stacked books. Your eyes widen at his pick. “This one!” He lifts up the How the Grinch Stole Christmas book.

“Wait— I read that to them already,” you try to stop the children’s interested looks.

“He can read it to us again!” Amy says giddily. “I think it’s a really nice story!”

“But there are other better books to read,” you offer. “Like…” You look through the books you brought. “This! The Night Before Christmas!” you read the title aloud.

“We can read that later,” Quin whines. “We want to hear Hobi read the book!”

Unbelievable. How the hell can these children choose him over you already?

As if he can read your mind, Hoseok shoots you a smug look and you pout like a petulant child. “Fine, I’m gonna go to the kitchen to help Miriam,” you huff, standing up and stomp out.

Hoseok watches your figure disappear into the kitchen before he says, “She’s so cute, isn’t she?”

Amy nods, grinning. “She’s grown up, but she’s still like us! That’s why playing with Y/N is so fun!”

“Right…” He gives a brief soft smile at Amy before he clears throat. “So let’s begin…”

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

“You’re not reading to the children?” Miriam asks when you appear in the kitchen.

“No, Hoseok’s handling that.” You take a fresh apron and tie it around your waist. “So… I’ll help out with the cookies.”

“Alright then,” Miriam chuckles, handing you the mixing bowl and mixer. “You can continue mixing the ingredients until everything’s smooth and I’ll take out the cookies I baked earlier.”

You flip the switch of the mixer on and continue to mix the ingredients. When the texture of the dough is smooth, you place the mixture into small scoops on the baking tray and that’s when you overheard Hoseok’s voice.

“What can you learn from the Grinch’s story?”

“Oh! Oh!” One of the kids exclaims. “That Christmas isn’t all about gifts!”

“That’s right,” Hoseok agrees. “And also, despite the Grinch being mean at first, even unkind, that doesn’t mean that they are truly that way at heart.”

Your movements falter at his words.

“There is always a reason behind their actions,” Hoseok points out. “So, it’s always best to learn about them first before assuming things.”

“You sound like you know the Grinch well.” Amy tilts her head in curiosity. “Do you happen to know the Grinch, Hobi?”

“Well, I don’t know the Grinch personally,” he muses. “But I do know someone who is very similar to him. Maybe that’s why I grew fond of the Grinch.”

Did Hoseok just compare you to the Grinch?

You scoff internally. Quickly, you finish scooping the rest of the cookie dough onto the tray before placing it in the oven after Miriam takes out the first batch of cookies and then retrieving a serving tray from one of the cabinets.

“Oh!” Amy raises her hand enthusiastically. “I know! I know!”

“Yes, Amy?”

“An act of kindness towards someone can change them!”

Hoseok blinks. “That… Is right.”

“That’s right.” You walk into the living room with glasses full of milk for the children. “An act of kindness can change a person’s life.” Placing the tray on the coffee table, you look at the children one by one. “So, it’s important to be kind to others.”

As if on cue, Miriam brought out the freshly-baked cookies. And the children flock around her to get a piece. She chastises them and sets the cookies on the table alongside the glasses of milk.

You spent the entire Christmas day in the orphanage, helping out and spending time with the children and Hoseok. You even meet Helen who never stops gushing once she finds the two of you visiting the orphanage.

When it’s already late at night, you and Hoseok bid the children farewell with a smile on your face and warmth in your heart. Hoseok walks you home afterwards, and silence falls between you — both comforting and soothing. Arriving in front of your doorsteps, you turn to him who is already staring at you with his bright eyes.

“Thank you for today, Hoseok—” You stop at his unamused look. “What?”

“I thought I told you to call me ‘Hobi’ from now on.” He steps closer to you. You step back. “Hearing you saying ‘Hoseok’ all the time makes it sound so formal between us.”

“Alright—” You place your hands on his chest in an attempt to push him away. “—Hobi, got it.”

“That’s better.” He chuckles at your antics before he steps back, stance growing uneasy. “And, uh, I forgot to tell you that there’s a winter market near the town hall. Would you like to come with me tomorrow?”

You nod without any hesitance.

“But Jimin will be there too.” And he adds quickly, “With his girlfriend. So, he won’t bother us and—”

“I’ll go.” You pause for a moment. “There’s something I need to resolve with him too.”

A gentle smile appears on Hoseok’s face at that. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You nod. “Definitely.”

He grins before tugging you in for a hug to which you reciprocate as if it’s second nature. And you both stay like that for a while until Hoseok mumbles suddenly, “I think I left something in your bookstore when we went to pick up the books earlier.”

You laugh. “Well then, I can go with—”

“Oh no, that's okay!” He says quickly. “I’ll go there myself, if you’re okay with lending me your key?”

“Oh, sure.” You take the keys out of your pocket. “Don’t lose it, yeah?” You chuckle, handing him the keys.

He nods. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

It’s another cold morning. Jungkook stifles a yawn as he walks along his usual route to Hoseok’s flower shop. Unable to contain his yawn any longer, he covers his face with his hand before he freezes — mid-yawn — when he sees you standing in front of the shop.

Quickly shutting his mouth, he calls out, “Y/N?”

Your gaze snaps to him from your phone. “Jungkook, hi!”

Uh-oh. Jungkook wonders if Hoseok has screwed up — since the man himself isn’t here — and now you’re seeking help from him to perhaps find ways to get rid of his hyung.

“Hey… May I ask what you’re doing here?” He checks his watch briefly. “So early…?”

“Hi, yeah, so I need a bouquet…” You fidget nervously.

“Oh?” Jungkook focuses on unlocking the glass door. “May I know what you’re looking for?”

“Hydrangeas and irises...”

He opens the door and motion for you to enter before following suit. “I’ll put my things in the back and I’ll wrap your bouquet.”

You mutter an ‘okay’ as he quickly changes into his uniform. Jungkook changes in record time as he has heard of stories of you being impatient, especially during the winter season. And well, someone has never intimidated him so much even though he is taller than you.

“Okay, so, hydrangeas and irises,” Jungkook mutters once he’s out of the changing room. He makes a quick dash towards the respective flower buckets and brings it back to the counter.

“Oh… They’re pretty,” you comment, eyeing the flowers curiously. But somehow Jungkook feels like you are scrutinizing him, ready to nitpick at him should you find any mistake or flaw.

“Why are your hands shaking?”

“Huh?”

“Your hands—” you point out. “—are shaking. Don’t you do this every day?”

“Not every day,” Jungkook mumbles, trying to stop his hands from shaking. “Anyways—” He clears his throat, changing the subject. “Who’s the special one?”

You blink. “Uh…”

Another uh-oh. This will not end well. Hyung is going to throw a major fit if he finds out about this.

“Don’t worry. Your secret's safe with me.” Jungkook arranges the flower stems together. “No one is going to hear about this. I promise you. I know you really value your privacy.” You shoot him a confused look while he rambles. Not long after, he lifts up the bouquet. “Is... This okay?”

“Do you have yellow irises?”

“Uh, you want the yellow one?” He makes a face.

“What is it?”

“It’s going to be ugly,” he blurts out before he remembers who he's talking to. “I-I mean if you want them then I’ll search for the yellow—”

“No! That's okay!” Your hands flay to stop him from finding more irises. “It’s fine, really. I trust your opinion. You’re the expert.”

Jungkook blinks, clearly caught off-guard by your words. “Oh… I— Thank you.”

You nod, giving him a smile that is, dare he say, pretty.

“Okay,” He relaxes, bunny-smile appearing on his face. “I’ll finish this up quick.”

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

Thirty minutes later, Jungkook finally manages to finish the bouquet and you thank him incessantly to which he responds with a flustered ‘No problem, just doing my job…’

Rushing out of the store, you check your phone for Hobi’s text which says that he’s on the way to the market and would meet you there. With your heart fluttering, you put your phone back into your pocket after sending him a ‘see u too, hobi :)’.

Arriving in the market twenty minutes later, you spot him standing near the entrance, waving at you enthusiastically.

“Hey,” he starts before gaze dropping on the bouquet you extend to him. “Wha—”

You mumble, “These are for you...”

His eyes grow wide. “I… Thank you.” He breathes out. “Wow, this is so unexpected. I don’t know what to say.”

You let out a sheepish chuckle.

“So…” He observes the bouquet. “You bought these flowers from my shop and you’re giving them to me.”

At his words, you blink as realisation dawns on you. “Uh, oh right I—” You stammer, flustered.

And Hoseok laughs at your cuteness. “Aww, that’s okay. I’m just joking. But, thank you. It’s really meaningful.”

“You know the meaning of the flowers?”

He grabs your hand, tugging you along into the market. “Of course. Hydrangeas means—”

“—grateful for being understood.”

“Thank you for being understanding.”

You both say simultaneously.

He stops, turning to you as his hand tightens on yours.

“I never got the chance to properly thank you.” You meet his gaze. “And, I really appreciate what you did for me these past few days — months — actually. I really can’t thank you enough.”

A soft smile decorates his lips. And before the both of you are able to say anything else, a familiar voice calls out Hoseok’s name. Turning your gaze to Jimin and his girlfriend, you greet them with a small ‘hello’ and a smile. As they walk closer, Jimin has a wary look on his face while his girlfriend responds to you with a smile of her own.

“Jimin…” You earn his attention. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

He nods as his girlfriend and Hoseok gives both of you space.

“Look. About the other day, I know you had no intention of bringing Chatterbox to my store to mess things up. I just want to apologise, you just wanted to set things right and I blamed you for her actions which you have no absolute control over.”

“No, Y/N. I could have explained better that we’re going to just apologise — no drinking and no singing—”

“And it’s in the past,” you cut him off. “And that’s okay. I’ll be okay.”

“I’m really sorry for not trusting you,” Jimin sighs. “I thought they had really sung a few blocks away, but you still did not like it and drove them away.”

You shake your head. “Even though I hate their carolling so much, I would have tolerated it if they were singing a few blocks away. But they still sang in front of my store and that angers me.”

“I wouldn’t take your words lightly, Y/N.”

“I sure hope not,” you snort, but then a grin appears on your face. A genuine smile appears on Jimin’s face in return as he extends his hand. And you shake it with yours, finally making up.

Returning to Hoseok’s side, you both wander around the market and you take in the festivity of it all.

“Oh! Look at those skewers!” Hoseok points out in excitement. “Wanna go try it?”

You nod at him. “I’ll go wherever you want to go. I’ve never been to any of the winter markets.”

“Alright,” he answers giddily, taking your arm to loop around his own. “Don’t want you to get lost now.” Chuckling at that, he leads you towards the first food stall of the day.

People are smiling, laughing, and enjoying themselves and for once it does not bring as much bitterness as before. It’s been quite some time since you are able to feel this way without holding back. But you’re certain you’ll move on, little by little.

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

“That was really fun,” you laugh, walking back to your bookstore with Hoseok still glued on your side. Despite not being in a crowded place any longer, he refuses to let go of you.

“I’m glad you had fun,” he muses. “We should do this more often.”

“Hanging out in markets, trying out various kinds of food together?”

“Well, if you consider it a date,” Hoseok says as you reach your store.

“Are you asking me out, Jung Hoseok?” You fish out the keys, unlocking the door.

“You remember my whole name?” He teases.

You shoot him a playful glare, stepping inside. “I mean, I have a sharp memory when it comes to relevant people in my—” You stop, gaping at the sudden colourful hues of orchids and dahlias decorating the broken jukebox. “I… What—”

Hoseok watches you stride towards the jukebox, observing the flowers intently with your glassy gaze while he takes off his gloves. At that moment, you seem like a child finding a surprise gift from Santa. And if Hoseok could, he would like to keep this moment into his memory forever.

When you finally turn to him, you ask, “D-Did you do this?”

He nods. “It’s fake though, since we don’t want them to wilt and—” You lunge forward, wrapping your arms around his neck as he nearly drops the bouquet you had given him earlier. Setting it down on the cashier counter, he wraps his arms around you as well in a tight hug with his face buried in the crook of your neck.

“It’s still beautiful, Hobi…” you murmur, breathing in his scent. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“I hope it would bring comfort to you, Y/N…”

Pulling away — still in his arms — you meet his gaze and blurt out, “Gosh, I swear I think I can kiss you right now.” The pair of you stiffen as heat rushes to your cheeks. “I-I mean—”

“That would be greatly appreciated,” he says, cupping your cheek. Leaning down to close the distance between you. You scan through his eyes for any signs of hesitance and when you find none, you close the remaining distance, meeting his lips with yours.

Everything happens so fast, but Hoseok is the only clarity at this moment as his hand on your waist moves up to cup your other cheek to deepen the kiss.

“Hobi...” You breathe out as he backs you against one of your shelves. “Hoseok—”

“Y/N...” he murmurs, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb as he looks into your eyes, gaze half-lidded. “Do you know what blue irises mean?”

You blink, still processing his question. “Hope… And faith?”

He chuckles, tucking your hair behind your ear. “It also means deep feelings when gifted to someone.”

Gaping, you stare up at his face.

“Is that how you feel? Towards me?”

You nod slowly.

He kisses your forehead softly and your eyes flutter shut. Interlacing your fingers together, he leans his forehead on yours while he whispers, “I feel the same way. I have feelings for you, Y/N.” He then mumbles, “I really, really like you, Y/N.”

“I really, really like you too, Hobi.” You meet his lips again. He smiles into the kiss.

When you both pull away to catch your breaths, you bury your face on the crook of his neck. “Thank you. Thank you for giving me a chance.”

And he kisses your temple, holding you tighter in his arms.

After punishing yourself over the loss of your parents, you had never given yourself a chance to move on. But you have known for quite some time that some part of you longed for a change. That is why you admire the Grinch who has a change of heart towards Christmas. Now with Hoseok by your side, you realise that you can move on as he encourages you to finally take a step forward. And for once you look hopefully to a happier future.

author’s note: honestly, i nearly turned this into a drabble series, but well, my writings are either too long or too short theres no in between so, oneshot it is sjdksjkfsd i hope you guys enjoyed it and as always, feedbacks are always appreciated !! if you’re interested in jimin’s story, you can find it here! thank you for reading 💕

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch6: That Makes Two Of Us

Summary: Things heat up between Katie and Steve as their relationship progresses, but when Tony caches them out, he’s on the war path.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Bad Language, Smut (dry humping, oral- male receiving) NSFW, 18+. and a VERY angry Big Brother...

A/N: One of my favourite chapters. Thank you to @angrybirdcr​ , its a pleasure to have your edits for the repostings!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 5

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

End of May 2013

“For the one hundredth time, no, Tony I am NOT coming.” Katie groaned as she pulled up outside Steve’s apartment building “I have work to do.” “But the damned meeting is in DC!” Tony protested “Surely you can manage to spare an hour! You’re part of the board!” “You know full well that’s only to make sure that Starks maintain a controlling stake!”

“So basically what you’re saying is that you don’t care about our business.” Her brother’s voice took on a petulant tone. He could be such a child at times. “Stop being a dick.” She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose “Look, I’m busy with work, I can’t just drop everything you know just because you-” “Have you got a man on the go?” Tony asked suddenly, cutting her off “Because I’ve not seen you for weeks. Do I need to prep a Shovel Talk?” “Goodbye, Tony.” Katie cancelled the call before she stepped out of the car and headed to the lobby door.

In his apartment Steve was reading a proposal and groaning to himself. They wanted him to record videos to talk to high school kids about puberty, keeping fit, being in detention, not doing drugs…and he had agreed, just to shut them up mainly, but he was already regretting his decision. With a final wrinkle of his nose, he threw down the document he was looking at and was about to make himself a coffee when the buzzer to his apartment went off.

“Hey, Handsome.” Katie’s voice rang over the intercom and he smiled just as he always did when she called him that, a habit she’d slipped easily into over the last three weeks of dating, which had consisted of early morning breakfast meets on their way into work, stolen lunchtimes away from the office where they could hold hands with a slice or a burrito as they walked around the Mal, three more intimate evening meals at quiet restaurants and one trip to the cinema. That had been Steve’s favourite date so far, not just because it had been his first time in a movie theatre since the 40s, but more so that he he’d enjoyed the feel of her as she leaned into him when he’d put his arm round the back of her chair, sharing popcorn, stolen quick kisses on the lips in the dark as they sat on the back row in between their bursts of hysterical laughter at the film. They had gone to see the third and final instalment of the Hangover trilogy, which Katie had been ridiculously excited about. She loved those films and Steve had to admit he agreed they were pretty good, as all three had made him laugh in places until tears rolled down his face. Movie and TV nights in their apartments had also turned into something special too as they snuggled down together, sharing snacks and personal space along with deep kisses that left him wanting a lot more… “Hey Sweetheart, come on up.”

He waited for her by the door and felt his breath catch as she emerged onto the landing from the stairs. She was wearing a blue and white LA Dodgers T-shirt, which was tight and finished just above her hips and clung to her chest flashing a strip of her toned stomach, tight grey jeans which fit snug to her ass and black baseball boots. Steve had seen her in all sorts of clothing items- jeans, tops, dresses…but never like this.

And fuck, she looked hot.

“Hi!” She greeted him with a huge smile and a gentle kiss, standing on her toes to meet his lips, before she stepped into the apartment and headed into the living room. Spotting the file on the coffee table she picked it up.

“What’s this?” She asked, opening it.

“A proposal from Fury. I’m going to be doing some videos, for high school kids..phys-ed classes that kinda thing.” “Videos?” “Yeah, apparently they get Celebrities to do them normally but they thought they’d use me this time.” Steve shrugged. “You’re not some kind of performing monkey they can trot out when they want.” She winkled her nose in distaste as she remembered those awful USO videos as she thumbed through the file. 

Steve smiled at her indignation on his behalf. “It’s only a couple of videos.” he assured her. 

“Hmm.” she dropped the file with disdain onto the table “Anyway, enough about that. You busy?” “When it comes to spending time with you? Never.”

“Oh that was smooth, Captain Badass!” She smirked and he gave her a quick shrug and a smile.

“What you got in mind?”

Grinning like a Cheshire cat she pulled out what looked like two tickets from her back pocket and suddenly it became apparent why she was dressed as she was.

“Are we…no, you’re kidding?” Steve couldn’t help the childish grin which flickered across his face “Baseball?” *****

“Oh what?” Katie cried out, jumping to her feet as the umpire made an atrocious decision for what felt like the 100th time, turning to Steve in disgust. “Is this guy blind or just really fucking dumb?”

Steve let out a snort, leaning back in his seat with his hand gesturing to the field. “Blind, he has to be. No one can be that stupid. I mean he’s been calling bad ones all game.”

Katie angrily dropped to her chair and Steve gestured to the vendor for two more beers. He passed one to Katie who hesitated as she took it.

“I bought the car.” She said, looking at him.

“Sweetheart,” he leaned over, kissing her cheek, “ridiculously fast metabolism, remember? I can’t get drunk. I’ll drive home…”

He handed over his money, waved away the little bit of change he would have received before he turned back to his girl who was pouting at him.

“The last time you drove Rainey you didn’t respect her. You drove her through a fuck tonne of puddles.”

“Doll, it’s a…”

“Er, she.” Katie looked at him. “She is not an it…”

Steve rolled his eyes. She was ridiculously attached to her Range Rover. He had to admit, as far as cars went it was pretty damned nice both to be driven in and to drive. White with black wheels and windows, and every gadget in it known to man. Mind you, he expected nothing else from the Starks.

“Ok, she is a damned four by four…” He raised an eyebrow for her. “They’re supposed to go off roading, so what’s a few puddles?”

“Off roading?” Katie spluttered, her eyes wide. “No! You’re so not driving her ever again.”

“Fine I’ll drink both of these then.” He shrugged, moving to take the beer he’d handed her back, and she moved it out of his reach, glaring at him. The desire to drink and have fun won out over protecting her car from a haphazard Captain who was on the sly a bit of a speed demon and probably never actually completed any kind of driving lesson in his life, let alone a test. She dug into her pocket and handed over her keys.

“One scratch and you’re a dead man.” She narrowed her eyes playfully.

“I’ll take good care of her.” He said solemnly, putting the keys into his pocket.

As the game progressed, despite his protestations that the LA Dodgers just weren’t his team, he found himself rooting for them and he was getting more and more frustrated at the current batters method. The guy was swinging it around with more force than Thor wielded his hammer and it wasn’t working. But just as Steve was about to let out another cry of frustration, the bat suddenly connected with the ball, and it was a good hit. Both Steve and Katie got to their feet shouting for the players to speed up and go for home. When they made it the pair both let out a loud cheer, and Steve hugged Katie, grinning wildly. At that moment, stood there, surrounded by strangers but with the girl who made him feel so grounded, he had never felt so normal since coming out of the ice, and he loved it. 

The rest of the innings passed far too fast, but at the end of the game, the Dodgers won, much to Katie’s delight. They joined the throng of people streaming out of the stadium hand in hand and Steve, still grinning like an idiot felt Katie tug on his hand.

“Shall we head for a drink?” She asked as he looked at her.

He nodded, tilting the peak of her cap back slightly and giving her a quick peck on the lips. “Sounds great.” And it was a great idea. Until they parked up, walked into the sports bar and spotted half of STRIKE in there round a table.

“Turn around.” Katie hissed with a groan and, just as they were about to do so, Rumlow yelled from the bar.

“Hey Cap, Nova…”

“Too late.” Steve muttered as Katie rolled her eyes and turned round.

“Fancy seeing you here!” Rumlow smiled and Katie shrugged.

“Yeah, small world, huh?”

“You want a beer, Cap?” Rumlow gestured to the bar and Steve nodded.

“Sure, thanks.”

“Stark, what do you…woah, what is this shit?” Rumlow pointed at her shirt and it didn’t escape Steve’s notice that the man’s gaze was lingering far too long on her boobs. He took a deep inhale, his fists clenching in his pockets as Katie let out a scoff.  

“This shit just kicked the Nationals asses!” she responded, jabbing Rumlow in his chest.

“Whatever man!” Rumlow shook his head. “Fucking Dodgers…” They didn’t have much option then but to join the rest of the team. Rumlow took the opportunity to eyeball Katie at every given opportunity and it was really starting to piss Steve off. At one time Katie looked up and caught Steve simply glaring at Rumlow, and in an attempt to keep him calm she gently squeezed his knee under the table. Steve was glad when it was his round, giving him an excuse to leave the table, Evans following to give him a hand.

“Enjoy your date?” Thee ginger haired man looked at Steve with a smirk.

“What?” Steve replied, a little too quickly. “I saw you and Stark kissing.” Evans popped a shoulder. “Outside the stadium. Don’t worry, no one else did.” Steve let out a sigh. It wasn’t like they were doing anything wrong, but he knew that Tony didn’t know yet and the pair of them were simply enjoying the early stages of a new relationship on their own before the inevitable tornado of interest hit once they did go public. Glancing at Katie who was talking to Rollins and Rumlow at their table, he turned back to Evans and dropped his voice slightly.

“We’re not deliberately keeping it from everyone, it’s just early days, don’t want everyone sticking their noses in, get what I’m sayin’?” “Secret’s safe with me.” Evans nodded. “Although I suspect it won’t be a secret for much longer if Rumlow keeps eye fucking your girl.”

Steve let out a snort as he took his change from the bar tender. “He’s a pain in the ass.” “Yeah well do me a favour, Cap.” Evans chuckled, picking up three of the glasses “When you do eventually snap and beat on him, make sure I’m there. Been waiting for someone to smack the shit outta him for years.”

****

Later that evening the coffee table at Katie’s apartment sported a number of empty plates, which had previously contained several frozen pizzas, and a good quantity of empty beer bottles. Katie was happily snuggled under Steve’s arm, curled against him and he was enjoying the closeness and comfortable silence that had fallen over them as they watched another ‘Game of Thrones’ episode. Katie had gotten him hooked on the fantasy programme and promised not to watch any of the latest season until he had caught up on the last two. As the episode finished he felt her stir and he didn’t want her to move, thankfully she didn’t too far, simply shifting her head slightly.

“So I never asked if you enjoyed yourself” She asked, looking up at him.

“Doll, it was amazing. Thank you.” “We should go more often” She mused “I haven’t seen a game live in years but I really enjoyed it.”

“You know what I didn’t enjoy?” He looked down at her, the soft light from the lamp illuminating her pretty face, highlighting the freckles spattered across her nose. “Sitting in that bar with Rumlow watching him looking at you.”

“Aww were you jealous?” She teased, sitting up.

“Not at all.” He shook his head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as he recalled what Evans had said at the bar “Just don’t appreciate him eye fucking my girl.”

She let out a large snort before she looked at him, as her brain registered what he had just said.

“Your girl?” Her tone was teasing but the look in her eyes told him she was anything but, in fact she looked almost nervous. “Is that what I am?”

Steve hesitated, realising that he’d never actually asked her that question before. Was three weeks too soon? He had no idea. To him it wasn’t, he’d been waiting to be able to call her his for months now, but was he outside of modern day dating etiquette?

He looked at her and took a deep breath, before he swallowed and spoke quietly, the nerves making his stomach flip slightly. “Well I’m kinda hoping you wannabe. I mean, if it’s not too soon.”

“It’s not too soon, it’s not too soon at all.” She whispered as she looked back at him, her features soft, eyes alive in the dim light of the lamp. “Stevie, I already am.”

And that was it, his lips crashed onto hers and he was kissing her like he’d been wanting to kiss her all day, his arm curling tighter round her, pulling her close. Katie took the initiative, every inch of her body was on fire for him, and she wrapped her arms round his neck and pulled him down as she fell slowly backwards, sinking into the couch. The movement came as a not-entirely unwelcome surprise to Steve and he didn’t resist. Automatically his hands crept to her hips, settling just under the hem of her top as she placed both hands on his face, the pads of her finger tips cupping his jaw. She broke away this time to breathe, head laying back on the arm of the couch and he dropped his head, pausing his lips inches from her neck.

“Can I kiss you here?” He whispered softly. .

“God, yes.” Katie sighed and he obliged, pressing his mouth to her neck. He gripped her hips again and they gave a little jerk of their own accord, pushing up against him and they she let out a soft moan at the feeling of his crotch bumping against hers. At the noise Steve pulled back to stare at her again, almost as if he was needing her permission to carry on. Katie wordlessly answered by tilting her hips up again, causing him to give a little grunt as she did so, before he took a deep breath and swallowed.

“Doll, I don’t want to rush you or do anything-”

“It’s okay Steve,” Her voice was low and slightly breathy as she looked at him, her eyes, locking onto his. She wanted this, more than she’d wanted anything before. She pushed her head upwards, lips pressing back to his and her hands slid under his t- shirt. His muscles twitched at her touch as the sensation of her gently dragging her nails across his stomach sent a spike of desire, like a red hot poker through his entire body. At that point, something snapped inside him and he let out a growl and Katie paused, hands still on his stomach.

“Did you just growl at me?” Her eyes flashed, dark, a smirk on her face. She was enjoying the effect she had on him, and right now so was he.

“Yeah.” he nodded, simply.

Her smirk grew wider as she grasped the bottom of his T-shirt. He held his arms up so she pull it over his head, and once he was free, he glanced down to see Katie looking at his chest.

She’d never seen him topless before and she was momentarily stunned. She let her hands wander, tracing the lines of the flowing muscles and Steve let out another groan wanting to feel her skin against his. He interrupted her hands exploration by gripping her top and looked back at her, ever questioning. As means of an answer she moved her arms and sat up slightly to allow him to yank it up and off, her hair falling around her shoulders, his lips catching hers as he gently slipped one strap of her bra down at a time placing a soft kiss on each of her shoulders. Her breasts spilled over the tops of the lace lined cups and his groin twitched, the crotch of his jeans now painfully tight.

“You’re beautiful.” He whispered gently, and then he kissed her again. Her fingers gently took his hands and she guided them onto her, sliding them up her rib cage to her chest and he obliged, boy did he oblige. Gently at first, softly squeezing and kneading the soft flesh and white lace, before his hand slid into the cups, teasing her taught nipples with his thumbs, acting completely on instinct, listening and watching her as she groaned gently, arching her back, her reaction telling him he was doing something right as all the time his groin bumped against hers.

Katie could feel the fabric of her underwear sliding in her jeans with every thrust of his hips against hers, that’s how wet she was. Steve was rocking hard against her and she buried her fingers in his hair, pulling sharply, forcing his head back, almost violently. As she tugged he let out another low growl and when she let go he stared down at her to see her smirking as she watched him, his pupils blown so wide there was hardly any blue left.

The rhythm of his hips was growing more frantic and their kisses were growing more desperate. “More,” she moaned into his mouth, and he gave her what she wanted, moving his hips even faster, rubbing against her in ways that had her clutching at his back like her life depended on it. Steve had never felt anything like this in his life. It was so good, so right, in a way nothing had ever felt so right before. This was a first for him, rutting up against someone fully clothed. Making out, Bucky had called it, but none of Steve’s bedroom experiences had ever entailed anything like this, and God, his head was a whirl of lust, desire, and he didn’t give a fuck about anything else at that moment other than her as she lay underneath him.

He started to lose his rhythm and he let out another groan as the tell-tale tightening across his lower stomach warned him he was fast approaching his release. This was too soon, he needed to get her there first. Clenching his teeth he desperately fought back the high as he pushed his hips down hard, making her gasp and claw at his back.

“Sweetheart, I’m close.” He breathed. “You almost there? Tell me your close baby, please?”

He needn’t have worried, at his words it was all she could do to moan brokenly and nod and his mouth fell to that spot on her neck which seemed to drive her wild. She tipped her head back as he gently nipped beneath her ear with his teeth and a few more thrusts of his hips against hers and she was done, fingers wrapped around his hair as the lights exploded in front her eyes and she felt the coil in her stomach unravelling as she came hard underneath him, hips bucking upwards, almost violently. Her voice was broken as she gasped out “Stevie…”and it was the single most beautiful sound he’d ever heard in his life. Her name for him, the name that no-one in this day and age called him other than her, tumbled from her lips and seeing and feeling her fall apart in his arms sent him over the edge right behind her in a pure surge of ecstasy. He fell forward, his arms shaking as he fought to keep his body up, not wanting to crush her under his weight. His head dropped forward, as he lowered himself ever so gently onto his elbows, his face pressing into the crook of her shoulder and she gently ran her fingers through his hair as they both breathed deeply as they waited to regain control of their bodies. Eventually both of them evened out and he raised his head to look at her, to find her smirking a little, her eyes twinkling with what looked like humour.

“What?” He managed to ask, his nose sliding against hers.

“I haven’t dry humped since I was about sixteen.” she said closing her eyes again with a smirk.

“Dry humped?” He snorted. “What-“

She laughed “Dry humping, making out, whatever. It’s been a while, Rogers.”

He felt himself chuckle again and she pressed a soft kiss to his lips, one of her hands running up and down his spine causing the muscles to gently twitch at her touch, neither of them in a hurry to move, but Steve’s arms were starting to hurt.

“You ok?” Katie looked at him, seeing the tension in his muscles and he nodded.

“Yeah, just, my arms.”

“Lay down.” Her hands moved to his biceps, gently trailing shapes on his skin.

“Doll, I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“I’m not made of glass, handsome. I promise you, it’ll be fine.”

Steve licked his lips and with a deep breath he lowered himself down gently, shifting and moving lower, pressing as little of himself to her as he could, despite the fact he could have happily smothered her to feel her body pressed against this. He closed his eyes and lay his head gently on her chest as she carded one hand through his hair, the other softly trailing down his neck and across his shoulders. Her touch was soothing, relaxing, loving even, and h felt himself beginning to doze off.

Katie was also growing sleepy, so she gently kissed his head and whispered a single word to him.

“Stay?”

It was a question to him, an invitation to stay with her that she was desperately hoping he’d take up.

He opened his eyes to blink lazily up at her. “Do you want me to?” he asked, his voice thick.

She nodded, “Let’s go to bed.”

He made to stand before he remembered his trouser predicament having just shot his load into them like a pubescent teenager and stilled, his cheeks flushing even more.

“I uh…I think I need to…”

“There’s some stuff of Tony’s in the spare room.” she said, looking at him cutting him off knowing exactly what the problem was because she was also in need of a clean-up “Should be a pair of sweats in there. Might be a bit short on you but…”

With another soft kiss, he pushed himself up off the couch before offering her his hand. She took it and he pulled her up, a little more forcefully than he had intended and she fell forwards, crashing into his chest.

“Steady on Soldier.” She grinned and he apologised, dropping a kiss to her forehead as his gaze once more dropped to her chest. With a certain glint in her eye she turned around, undid her bra and slipped it off before bending over in front of him, picking up his T-shirt from where she’d tossed it to the floor before heading over to the stairs.

Steve was hard again like it had never left.

After he had cleaned himself up and managed to calm himself down, he thrown on a pair of Tony’s sweatpants retrieved from the spare room and exited the main bathroom, heading to her room. She wasn’t asleep as he found out as he settled down in the bed next to her, and she moved to rest her head on his bare chest tangling her legs into his as his hand stroked her back, gently underneath his T’shirt, light fingers brushing her soft skin.

“This is mine…” He teased with a yawn as he tugged at the bottom of his shirt and she moved laying a soft kiss onto his lips.

“You can have it back tomorrow.” She said, laying her head back down on his chest. As her breathing grew even he felt himself start to drift off too, the warm feeling in his chest made him want to burst with happiness.

*****

When Steve woke the next morning it was peacefully. Katie had shifted positions through the night and now her back was to him pressed as close as she could get, he still had his arms around her, his face buried in her hair. She smelt so familiar and comfortable. As his sleepy brain reminded him of the previous night he smiled and felt a familiar twitch. He was hard, again, which wasn’t uncommon when waking up, but suddenly he felt her stir, and then he realised with horror that she was going to feel him poking her in the back.

It took Katie a few seconds to recall the night before, but when she felt a solid, warm wall of muscle pressed against her, a small hum of contentment rumbled in her throat as she pushed back further into him. They both lay there for a moment, silently, basking in the warmth and softness of each other before Katie turned over and looked up at him. Her face was devoid of any make up, not that she wore a lot anyway, but her freckles were more pronounced, clear skin was bright, cheeks flushed and her hair was tousled in waves around her shoulders. He reached out to tuck a long strand that had fallen over her cheek behind her ears, when she looked up at him, her eyes glinting.

He was about to wish her good morning, but before he could she kissed him, hard and fast, tongue tangling with his. And then she was straddling him, his head against the pillow, as her lips began to trail down his chest. By the time his sleep and lust addled brain had caught up with what was going on, she had reached her destination and had flipped the waist band of the sweats he was wearing down, taking his erection firmly in one hand, making him hiss slightly.

His size had taken Katie slightly by surprise, although she knew with retrospect it shouldn’t have. She looked up and locked eyes with him before she gave him one final smirk and took him in her mouth. Steve panicked for a second, this had never happened to him before, his hands flying to the bed sheets either side of his waist, but it wasn’t for long, as all worry flew out of his mind as she began to work him.

From the noises he was making Katie knew he was enjoying himself. Which was her aim. After a short while, she pulled off of him to suck at the tip and worked her hands over the rest of his length. When she glanced up at him, he had his head thrown back against the pillow, face contorted in utter pleasure. She continued to lick, suck, and when she pulled away slightly to suck at the sensitive tip, working the rest of his length with her hands he let out a loud groan and he looked at her. Her eyes locked onto his and he felt that tell-tale warmth rising in his groin and stomach.

“Katie, sweetheart, shit.” His voice was raspy from desire and the fact it was morning and Katie was beyond aroused at the sound as he babbled the first words either of them had spoken since waking. “I’m gonna-” his words caught in his mouth as she took him in hers again, this time all the way to the back of her throat. At that, he was gone, his fingers gripped her hair tight the other clutched at the bedsheets, noises escaping him that he’d never heard before as he spilled himself down her throat and slumped back completely blissed out.

Katie rolled onto her side watching, as he finally opened his eyes and looked down at her.

“Morning, Handsome.”  She grinned and he felt himself chuckle.

“Morning, Gorgeous.” he said, still fighting to control his breathing.

“You want breakfast?” She asked, leaning over to peck him on the lips. He hummed a response and she smiled once more before climbing out of bed. Steve watched her head into the bathroom and found himself thinking that as far as mornings went, he’d had worse.

She emerged a few moments later, her hair slightly less wild, and she was still in his T-shirt, which fell to midway down her toned thighs, giving him a better look at that intriguing tattoo that adorned her right which he still hadn’t seen in full properly. She flashed him a smile, fully aware he was looking her up and down, and then she left without a word, clearly with no intentions of getting dressed fully yet. Which was fine by him.

Katie turned the radio on and set about making coffee, singing softly to herself as she replaced the filter paper. She tossed in a liberal amount of Columbian Roast and was just pouring two mugs when Steve, who was now out of bed, appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. She smiled at him and slid a mug of the coffee over the island where the creamer and sugar already lay waiting and he took it with a thanks.

“How hungry are you?” she asked and he arched an eyebrow over the top of the mug and she gave a laugh. “Sorry, dumbass question. Fancy pancakes and fruit?”

“Don’t got to any trouble, Doll.” He began to protest but she shook her head.

“It’s no bother, I can whip up a batter in five minutes.”

Turning away from him, she reached up into the cupboard for the flour and the T-shirt she was wearing rode up slightly giving Steve a perfect view of her ass which was clad in black lace panties. The fraying tendrils of self-control he had been holding onto snapped completely and stood up from the stool he’d been perched on, right hand still clutching his coffee. He rounded the island in three long strides and placed the mug down on the counter beside her, his hands falling to her hips and he gently spun her to face him. She giggled slightly before his lips met hers and he reached down and cupped her ass in both hands picking her up easily and setting her down on the counter.

“Something got you worked up Captain?” She teased, looking up at him. Last night had clearly unlocked something in the Soldier, and she was liking what she was seeing, and feeling.  

“Yeah, the sight of you wearing nothing but a pair of panties and my t-shirt…” He said raising an eyebrow as he reached for his mug again, taking another drink, trying to play it cool. But it wasn’t working clearly, as she simply laughed and slid both arms around his neck as she leaned in to kiss him again. His free hand slid to her thigh, tracing a path up until, just as he had reached the bottom of her panties, they were interrupted by the sound of the lift doors opening.

“Hey Kiddo, you in?” Steve and Katie exchanged a look, utter horror spreading from Steve’s head to his toes as Tony’s voice hit his ears.

“Kiddo?” he shouted again. “I can smell coffee, you in the kitchen?”

“Shit…” Katie said as she gently pushed Steve backwards, jumping down from the counter, adjusting the T-shirt. Steve was now a shade of crimson pretty much from his neck upwards as he desperately tried to rearrange his pants to hide his once more ebbing arousal. She debated telling Steve to hide in the bedroom but there was no way he’d get across the open plan living space to the stairs without Tony seeing him.

They were well and truly caught.

As she clocked the utter horror on Steve’s face she was suddenly overcome with giggles at how ridiculous the entire situation was. A super soldier and a SHIELD agent, both of them having faught aliens, deadly terrorists and weapons traders, were stood in her kitchen panicking about being busted fooling around by her brother.

“So, the damned board meeting was cancelled which would have been fine had I not already been on the jet over, so I thought seeing as I now in town with nothing to do we could hang for the day or if you’re too busy at least have breakfast…” Tony’s voice was getting louder as he walked through the apartment.

Steve looked at her in utter astonishment as she began to laugh now because frankly he couldn’t think of a single thing that was funny about this situation if he tried. Her laughter didn’t stop even as her brother walked into the kitchen, his brown eyes flashing from his sister to Steve and their various state of undress, a look of utter horror on his face as he processed the implications.

“Oh you have gottta be fucking kidding me…” Tony muttered, dropping the box he was carrying onto the kitchen counter. “Please tell me there’s a perfectly innocent explanation for this…” “Explanation yes, innocent…not so much.” Katie said through her laughter and Steve let out a groan. This was not how he wanted Tony to find out.  “Don’t you know how to buzz Dickwad, before just walking into my apartment?”

“I have a key…” “For emergencies…” she shot back. “Stop changing the subject.” Tony demanded his eyes flashing dangerously and Katie folded her arms and tilted her chin up defiantly.

“Look, this isn’t a big deal, Tony…”

“No, this…this is a very big deal…” he snapped back as he looked from her to Steve, every line on his face was contorted with anger and shock.

Steve took a deep breath and placed his mug down on the side. “Tony…” he began trying to placate the billionaire but he was cut off.

“What, you gonna tell me this aint what it looks like?” he shook his head. “That Captain America isn’t banging my little sister? I might be like nearly 60 years younger than you old man but I wasn’t born yesterday.”

Steve took a breath, his nostrils flaring at Tony’s snipe.

“Tony, I’m 29 next week, I can do what or who I like” Katie snapped at him “And besides you’ve no room to talk, the amount of times I’ve walked in on you and whichever bimbo you decided to bring home that night…”

“That is completely different!” Tony spluttered.

“No it isn’t” she shot back, hands going to her hips.

Tony’s eyes locked onto hers, before he looked back at Steve who held his gaze evenly, before the dark haired man shook his head and looked at the super soldier.

“Can you go and put some clothes on please, frankly the amount of flesh on show is disturbing me.” “Well I would but your sister is still wearing my shirt.” Steve shot back, his temper rising. Tony gave another growl and then he stopped, open mouthed.

“Are those my sweats?” He spluttered, his voice practically a squeak.

“Yes.” Katie replied simply, and at that point she grabbed Steve’s hand and pulled him out of the room and up the stairs. The initial humour she had found in the situation had ebbed away and now she was livid at her brother.

“He is…” she started, opening the various drawers to pull out a hooded top. Taking Steve’s T-shirt off, as she threw it over the bed to him. “The biggest hypocrite going…”

“To be fair I can kinda see it from his point of view…” Steve said shrugging on his T-shirt and making a point of averting his eyes as she strode over to her dresser, naked bar her panties.

She pulled on a hoody and narrowed her eyes at Steve. “Don’t defend him…”

He chuckled and crossed the room, walking round the bed. “I’m not.” he placed a peck on her lips “But I do think that I should go, let you talk to him alone…”

“Yeah, probably for the best…” she breathed out a sigh and followed him down the stairs where he retrieved his sneakers.

“Wait, do you wanna take my car or…” He gestured up and down his body, and she took in his trainers, slightly too short joggers and a T-shirt “Nah, Baby Girl, I’ll run.” She smiled at the term of endearment that he hadn’t used before then, as he dropped a kiss to her cheek.

“I’ll call you later.” He promised, before disappearing in the elevator.

Katie took a deep breath and walked back into the kitchen. Tony eyed her from where he was leaning against the counter, mug of coffee in his hand.

“Don’t start.” Katie warned him, to no avail

“Oh I’m gonna!” Tony spat, before he paused and looked around “Where is the Star Spangled Ass-hole?”

“Gone home.” Katie folded her arms.

Tony snorted “I bet he has…” “You know I don’t remember me reacting like this every time you brought a girl home, which from my recollection happened quite a lot.” Katie sniped back, as she walked to where he was stood by the coffee pot and reached round him to pour herself a fresh mug.

“That..that was different…” Tony stammered at her back as she walked to the counter for the creamer.

“How so?”

“Because, well, it’s him…” he whined “I mean, seriously? Of all the men in the world…”

“Yeah because the last one worked out so great…” Katie said sarcastically, replacing the carton down with a slightly harsh action, causing some to spill over the top.

The room fell silent bar the chink of the spoon on the edge of her pink unicorn mug as she stirred in sugar and milk. She took a sip of her drink and turned to face her brother who was hunched over the counter slightly, eyes on his mug. Eventually he straightened up and met his sister’s eyes before he spoke again, this time his voice was softer.

“How long?” he asked,

“Three weeks, give or take.”

“Three weeks, and I’m only just finding out?” “Yes, Tony.” she groaned, with the air of someone talking to a small child “And your reaction is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you.”

To be fair, Steve was right. It wasn’t an ideal way for him to find out, but she knew the reaction from Tony wasn’t about her being caught, it was about her being caught with Steve. The two men got on okay, which hadn’t always been the case, but after the battle of New York Steve had spent a lot of time with them both at the tower. Tony was still a little reserved with Steve, more so due to the fact that Captain America was someone their dad had idolised but, whilst the two men were immensely different, there was a mutual respect between them and Katie was hoping now that that was going to be enough for Tony to be reasonable about the situation.

“Please don’t kick off about this. I care about him, a lot.” She said gently, looking at her brother, appealing to his better nature and the fact that she knew he would want her to be happy.

And sure enough, that was exactly what Tony asked as he looked at her.

“Does he make you happy?”

“More than anything.” she replied honestly. “I really like him Tony, I want this to work.”

Tony studied her face for a moment before he let out a deep sigh, looking away. “Damned it.” He groaned “I can’t believe I’m going to have to have the Shovel Conversation with Captain America.”

In the silence that followed Katie debated pointing out that Steve wouldn’t be frightened in the slightest of Tony’s various threats anyway, but who was she to rob her brother of his opportunity to try and protect her?  Instead she placed her mug on the counter and leaned forward, wrapping her arms around Tony who sighed again and reciprocated the gesture.

“Suppose he is an improvement on Agent Shitweasel” he said, resting his chin on her head.

“That’s not exactly a glowing endorsement.” she snorted.

*****

Steve was reading a book in his lounge when Katie messaged him later that afternoon. Apparently Tony had calmed down enough to take her for lunch at some Italian place in the Business District following which they’d had a walk round the city together before Tony had left to go back to New York. Steve was pleased, he knew that despite the fact that he drove her insane at times, she loved the bones of her brother which was why his reaction before had pissed her off. He messaged back, telling her he was glad she’d had a good time and that he would call her later before he picked his book back up, but he’d only managed another chapter or so before there was a buzz on his intercom.

“Rogers, it’s me.”

Steve sighed “Come on up.”

He wasn’t surprised Tony was on his doorstep, he’d been half expecting it. And, judging from the lack of stupid nickname, no Spangles, no Capsicle, no Old Man, he wasn’t here to exchange pleasantries. A fact that was confirmed when Stark didn’t wait for Steve to invite him in, he simply pushed past the door into his flat and stalked inside, glancing around.

“You can tell Kiddo helped you decorate and furnish this gaff, far too modern to be your doing. There’s no Dig for Victory posters or wind up radios…” Tony said, causing Steve to roll his eyes “Holy shit, is that an original Dekka?”

“Katie said you’d like that” Steve watched the inventor cross the room and run his hands across the sleekness of the record player’s casing. “But I have a feeling you didn’t come here to admire my music equipment.”

“Perceptive” Tony turned to face him, his eyes flashing. Steve took a deep breath.

“Tony, I…” “No, you don’t get to talk, you get to listen. And you better listen good.” the billionaire cut him off “Katie was heartbroken when Agent Shitweasel did the dirty on her. She came home and I held her as she cried herself to sleep for 2 goddamned weeks before she shipped out to New Mexico… ”

“Tony…”Steve began, knowing already where this conversation was going. He wanted to assure Tony that he would never do what Ward had done, ever. But Tony ignored him.

“I hated him.” Tony said “he was an absolute dickhead with her at times and she changed because of it.  And then, after New York she seemed to go back to being her old self. She was laughing, socialising…and that was down to you” Tony looked at the Super Soldier, who cocked his head slightly to the right as he listened, a small smile tugging at his lips “ She had a friend, something she hasn’t had much time for since my little sioree in an Afghan cave, my bad, and for the first time in ages I can see she’s over it, you know…” he took a deep breath and Steve waited for him to finish “But Katie puts her heart into everything, and I gotta ask Cap, is this serious for you or you just after getting your dick wet?”

“What? No, of course it’s serious for me Tony…” Steve said, his temper flaring slightly at his crass tone. “I can’t believe you think that little of me that you had to even ask me that!”

“Oh get off your high horse, Rogers!” Tony shook his head, and Steve raised his eyebrows “This has nothing to do with what I think of you, this is about my sister…you know the girl I brought up from the age of 7.  The girl I couldn’t love any more if she was my own. I’d die for her you got that? Die for her!”

“Well that makes 2 of us!” Steve said loudly, silencing the other man. There was a moment where no sound was heard in the apartment bar the ticking of the clock on the wall and Tony raised his eyebrows slightly as Steve looked down at the floor taking a deep breath.

“Look, I know you’re not happy about this…” Steve sighed, looking at Tony again “But do I care about her Tony, more than you know, and nothing you do or say to me is gonna change that.”

Tony’s eyes softened, but his jaw remained set. Steve took a deep breath and wet his lips before he continued.  “And, for what it’s worth, I think you did a damned good job of raising her. She’s an incredible woman.”

“She’s a pain in the ass…” Tony sniffed, Steve was glad to hear his tone was less confrontational “And she’s stubborn, always thinks she knows best…”

“Wonder where she gets that from?” Steve said cheekily

“Absolutely no idea” Tony deadpanned back.

Steve’s face cracked into a smile as did Tony’s.

“Look.” Tony sighed, “I just want her to be happy and with someone that treats her right…”

“I don’t ever want to hurt her, Tony. You have my word…” Steve said, honestly.

“Good, because if you do, make no mistake I will fucking kill you, slowly and painfully and there will be no defrosting 70 years down the line.” Tony’s brown eyes flashed slightly as he stared at Steve, And Steve knew, absolutely 100% that he meant it. He was surprised to find himself slightly unnerved by the threat. Hoping that his face didn’t give him away her merely nodded and then Tony’s demeanour changed completely and he turned back into the Tony Stark that Steve knew, and had to admit quite liked after all.

“Good, this was a good talk…” Tony said, clapping Steve on the shoulder.

Steve smiled as the weight he hadn’t even realised he’d been carrying was lifted off his shoulder. Having Tony’s, albeit grudging, approval would mean the world to Katie, and if he was honest, it meant a lot to him as well. Not only was Tony his friend also, but he was the closest thing Katie had to a father, and he wanted him to be alright with the fact the two of them were together.

He offered the man a coffee which he politely declined, stating he needed to get back to New York. The two shook hands on the threshold of Steve’s door before Tony gave him one last look, raising his index finger and middle finger of his right hand to his eyes, before turning them to point at Steve in an “I’m watching you” gesture. Steve raised his eyebrows in understanding and felt his mouth tug upwards at the side as Tony turned on his heels and left.

He retreated back to his living room and pulled out his phone.

“Hey Badass” Katie greeted and Steve chuckled.

“I’ve just had a visitor.” Katie groaned into the phone as he sat back on his couch

“Let me guess… my darling brother turned up to give you the shovel talk?” her tone was exasperated. “No mention of a shovel, just threatened to kill me slowly and painfully if I hurt you, and you know what? I have absolutely no qualms about the fact he would.” Steve grinned as he spoke.

“Don’t tell me Captain America is scared of Iron Man?” she questioned playfully. “No, Steve Rogers is slightly disconcerted by Tony Stark.” He corrected as she let out a chuckle.

“Best make sure you don’t hurt me then aint ya?” “I’ve no intentions of doing doll.” He said, honestly before he let out a breath, smiling “I really enjoyed last night.”

“And this morning?”

“Yeah, another first.” He said, unable to stop the smirk on his face spreading into his voice “I’ve never, errr, had a woman use her mouth on me before…or vice versa for that matter.”

“I like being your first.” she said softly and his chest warmed at her words.

“You know what else was a first? Waking up next to my girl.”

There was a pause before she replied, and he could hear the smile in her voice.

“And you know what else I like? You calling me your girl.”

A shit eating grin crept back across the Captains face. “Well, you better get used to it, Doll.”

**** Chapter 7

**Original Posting**

[babyillua]

when the stars align

pairing: kageyama x reader

genre: fluff, humor-ish, soulmate au

word count: 1.7k

warnings: language and panties!

disclaimer: you cannot steal, repost or translate my work.

juno: aaah! i love tobio with all my heart of course my first work would be for him <3 and a soulmate au on that.

summary: kageyama never believed in the concept of soulmates. rather, he had a more pessimistic outlook on it. even if the people around him found theirs, he probably clinged onto the 0.01% chance of not having one, because he’d rather not get disappointed by hoping for one. but what happens when he realizes he can’t keep his thoughts out of his head, and can’t shut up the moment he sees you? i guess soulmates don’t work all the same do they?

(‘∀’●)♡

Kageyama breathes in and out, stabling his breath. Bouncing the ball on the court as he waits for the whistle to be blown by his coach. ‘If I make it in, we win. And then it won’t be my treat to dinner after the ice skating range later.’ he says to himself with a nod. The whistle blows, and he makes a swift motion, serving the ball. 

His teammates cheer, he got the ball in as their last point, and they’ve won the match. It was a three on three. Kageyama, Daichi and Tanaka. While the other team consisted of Tsukishima, Hinata and Asahi. “Yeah! Heck yeah! Great job Kageyama! Didn’t expect less from ya!” Tanaka says. Kageyama nods at him in reply and sighs satisfyingly. 

Today, they decided to do something fun as a team and Sugawara suggested Ice Skating. Kageyama was a pretty good skater, learned a little as a child, and had many talents for it. He would’ve considered training till he was good enough as a professional, but he had a different passion. 

“Hey Kageyama.” Kageyama flinches slightly as he hears someone call out to him. “Ah, Sugawara-san, hello.” he says and bows. “I know what’s going on in your head. Recently I’ve noticed your little glares towards Hinata. Is it because he’s found his soulmate?” he says with a grin. The typical rivalry between those too is always evident. Who’s faster, who eats more, who grows faster. It wouldn’t be a surprise that they’ve quarrelled and made a competition of who gets their soulmate first, but Kageyama had other feelings towards the concept of soulmates, he never believed in them. 

“It does not matter. But I’m happy for him, I guess? I don’t believe in soulmates. Or I don’t believe in having one.” he says sternly. It broke Sugawara’s heart for some reason he couldn’t explain. For someone who believed in love, he knew Kageyama would have it easy. A young, good looking boy with quite a talent, who wouldn’t have his eye on him? ‘He has yet to have his grasp on reality, there’s at least a 0.01% chance that he doesn’t have one.’ Sugawara thought.

But Kageyama lost hope. He didn’t have the obvious signs to know whether he had a soulmate or not. Nishinoya didn’t see color before he found him. Daichi had a tattoo he was born with, it had the name of his soulmate. And other people had the same eyes as theirs. Kageyama wanted that too, but he didn’t think about something that isn’t more important than playing volleyball. 

“Then, will you treat me to three pork buns if you find your soulmate?” Tanaka butts in. Another hopeless romantic on the run, still seeking his. His soulmate has the same symbol on the back of his head, thus why he always kept his shaved for it to be more obvious. Kiyoko had the same sign, placed on her finger, yet it was the tattoo of a heart, rather than of Tanaka’s, a sun. 

Kageyama smiles at the challenge, “sure.” he says confidently.

(‘∀’●)♡

Kageyama breathes in again. Closing his eyes then opening it slowly as his vision came back to normal. He missed this, the sounds of the blades glazing on the ice. But he can’t help but notice the one skater than spun in the center of the rink. ‘Interesting.’ he thought. His mind was quiet, yet his expression was not.  Everyone around him could see the twinkling in his eyes, following his gaze immediately, landing on the girl with the bright smile as she finished her small jump. “Wow.” Kageyama finally lets out, and when he turns back, all he could see were smirks. 

“Wow indeed Kageyama!” Nishinoya says with a hearty laugh. Kageyama’s expression changed from hopeful, to shyness and finally to a glare. Not to Nishinoya, rather to the 190 cm tall blonde boy who looked at him coyly. “What’s with that face?” he says, walking over to him and grabbing him by the shirt. “It’s nothing.” Tsukishima says, waving his hand in front of him to brush him off him. 

Daichi only laughs and says, “put on your skates, you have plenty of time here before we eat. Talk to her, shoot your shot.” he teases. Kageyama would’ve sighed and tched, yet instead he takes off his shoes in a rush, and puts on the skates immediately. In no time, he was on the sidelines, eyeing you from the side as you skated around effortlessly. 

Tanaka and Sugawara made their way to him with a cheeky smile. Already plotting in their heads. They already had a sense that their trip today was a call on fate, some type of destiny. And Kageyama just needed a little push. “Talk to her. You’re not bad, just don’t be as blunt to her like you are to us, alright?” Sugawara says with a grin, pushing Kageyama towards you, but maybe a little too hard. Kageyama slides across the rink at a diagonal line before you, and you were quick to notice. As he was about to bump into you, you step aside and pull him by the side, steadying his pace. 

“Wow, you’re a clumsy one are we.” you tease him with a giggle. Kageyama blushes, the curves of his lips turn upwards as his eyes look everywhere but at you. Yet he speaks, “you have a cute giggle.” But by that he stiffens, “I didn’t mean to say that!” he retorts immediately

Immediately covering his mouth you reply, “Well I think the way you turn shy is cute. And you have really pretty eyes.” In your head you thought you’ve said this mentally, but by his reaction, he turns redder by the minute, have you spoken your mind as well? “Ah shit looks like… we’re under a curse huh?”

“Anything is alright as long as it’s with you.” he says, earning another mouth  to cover his. Why is he saying these things without realizing it? It's like he couldn’t stop himself from saying it, it’s as if he needed to say it. Like he was programmed to say it. You felt the same. You’re not someone so blunt, someone who liked to be so bold. That’s why you did figure skating, to say what else you needed to say. 

‘What the hell is this?!’ you both say in your heads.

But you were catching onto it. “Ask me something, anything. As dirty as it can be.” 

‘Dirty?’ he thinks. “What color panties are you wearing?” His eyes widened the moment he asked. Did he really want it to be dirty? His mind wanted to ask if you’ve taken a shit today, but something else was said, apparently. 

Ennoshita watches from afar. His hands on his chin as he observed and heard you conversation, mouth creeping up to a smile. He pulls in Sugawara and whispers something, “his soulmate sign is that he can never lie to them.” he says with a nod, and the senior blushed at the junior. Squealing a little, because the little hopeless boy never needed to feel that way. 

“It’s blue.” you answer immediately. In your head you wanted to say pink, but you really couldn’t help it. “What’s your name? I’m Y/n.” 

“Kageyama Tobio.” 

“Then can I call you Tobio? We seem the same age.” 

“You can call me yours.” 

Cheers from his teammates were heard. “Yeah Kageyama! That’s my boy!” they say. Yet not all of them cheered, two boys were crying, “how could their junior be so successful before them? It’s unfair!” Tanaka and Nishinoya say in unison. Even Asahi was a little jealous. 

“Well Tobio, I hope you won’t hate me for this but, I think we’re soulmates.” you say shyly, hands held behind your back as you looked at him in the eyes. He wasn’t glaring, it wasn’t blank, it was blue, and shining. “I think it would be impossible to hate you- did you just say we’re soulmates? I don’t believe you! Also I really think you’re pretty.”

“Do you like my skates?” A trivial question. You hated these skates, but you decided to wear them today because something was telling you so. If he answered something more realistic, then, your theory is right.

“They’re not my favourite color. But I could get used to them.” he says. ‘Bingo.’ you think to yourself. 

“Now I see, our soulmate bond is that we can never lie to each other. We’re soulmates Tobio!” you say, hugging him immediately. 

Kageyama was someone who needed to be sure of things. The way he plays, the way he sets, and now hearing this for the first time with no solid proof, he was satisfied. He regrets the days when he pushed away the possibility of a soulmate. And now he met you, catching his eye in a heartbeat, without even the need to tell you. Even if you weren’t soulmates, and even if it didn’t exist, he’d still think that the stars aligned just for you both to meet, no matter the circumstance. Yet, here they are, giving you the chance and destiny of a lifetime, and he would never turn his back on it, even if it risks his dignity. 

“Kageyama! You owe me three pork buns you idiot!” Tanaka says as he tries to skate over to the both of you, but Daichi gets a hold of him before it. “What a hurricane.” Daichi says as he shakes his head. 

He hugs you back, “then I guess we are.” he whispers in the nape of your neck. And as the night ends, he forgot about the dinner because he wanted to spend time with you. Skating in the ice as you hold each other hand in hand, slipping some phrases you wanted to keep to yourself as you asked each other questions. What a troubling bond, but he’d never ask for anything else. 

“Tobio.” you say stopping at the corner of the rink, cupping his face as you look at him in the eye. 

“Yes?” he replies. He then closes his eyes, preparing for impact, thinking he’d finally get his first kiss. 

You giggle, kissing his cheek and gliding away and say, “your fly’s undone, idiot!” 

[neoskidz]

What A Mess || Kim Sunwoo

WC. 2.3K words

GENRE. Fluff / Fantasy / Witch!au

ELSIE’S NOTE. This was an old work that I wrote back when I was new on Tumblr. It supposed to be a stray kids fiction, but I decided to re-write it as The boyz fiction. And now, I repost it again in here.

SUMMARY.

As a friend and mentor, cleaning the mess Jaehyun made was never an option for you, it was a must. Including this kind of mess that involved Kim Sunwoo.

TAGLIST. [Networks] @tbznetwork​ @deobiwritersnet​

It was a peaceful morning, one of the rarest days you could ever get. It just you and your morning tea. No Jaehyun nor his troublesome mess. You finally could relax for once.

Or so you thought.

A rather loud and impatient knock could be here from outside your house, ruining your peace. Which only means one thing.

Lee Jaehyun.

And that also explained how you got stuck in this situation.

“So… let me get this straight.” Jaehyun winced at your words and tone, shuffling guiltily in place as he took a sudden interest in his shoes. Eyes narrowing, you continued, gritting your teeth slightly as you fought to keep your tone even, so as not to frighten your surprise guest.

“You wanted to give me a gift as apologies for always troubling me, and instead of, oh I don’t know, a damn cake or something, you decided to make a magical perfume from a sketchy spellbook and made Sunwoo test it out… Am I getting this so far?”

Nervously he nodded, and you inhaled sharply, continuing. Out of thousand humans in this world, why did he test it on Sunwoo!?

It’s not like you were in bad term with Sunwoo or something. It just, ever since you became Jaehyun’s mentor, you rarely talk or meet him anymore. You were too busy cleaning your apprentice’s mess. Moreover, he was your childhood crush. How do you suppose to face him when he back to normal?

“Then, somehow, you managed to accidentally turn him into a kid with no memories what so ever, and no way of turning him back because the book didn’t say anything about how to reverse the spell… Have I gotten everything?”

You asked tightly barely fighting back a growl as he nodded again meekly.

Trying not to blow up at him completely, you turned your eyes to the silent toddler in your arms, face softening as you found him peering back at you quietly. Sunwoo had been crying and squirming when Jaehyun had arrived, and instinctively you had taken him from the lad, knowing how terrible he was with kids.

Almost instantly the small Sunwoo had started to calm, cuddling into you and looking at Jaehyun distrustfully, apparently having decided you were safe. He’d been perfectly calm and obedient for you ever since but had refused to let go of you even once, getting frightened every time Jaehyun came too close.

“I-if it’s any consolation, the age regression, and lost memories should fix themselves on their own in about a week… You’ll only have to deal with it until then.”

Jaehyun’s words interrupted your thoughts, and you looked back up from Sunwoo as you absorbed what he had said.

Suspicious, your eyes narrowed on him, your voice carrying a clear warning as you spoke. “…What do you mean I'll only have to deal with it…”

Your body tensed as you saw the way he fidgeted, a nervous laugh spilling from their lips.

“SorryIJustRememberedIForgetToTurnOffMyStoveBYE!!!”

“Yah! Lee Jaehyun!”

After blurting those words, Jaehyun leapt up before you could react, and promptly vanished with a pop, startling the little boy in your lap and leaving behind a truly obnoxious amount of slowly fading sparkles. Blinking numbly at the spot Jaehyun had just been, you slowly looked back down at Sunwoo still clinging tightly to you, meeting his wide eyes with your own, before letting out a deep groan and quiet curse.

Sunwoo simply blinked wide innocent eyes up at you in response, still thoroughly spooked by Jaehyun display, though he was finally starting to relax completely in your lap now that Jaehyun was gone. Seeing the toddler version of Sunwoo sitting in your lap was already doing your head in, and again you fought back the urge to groan loudly in frustration, giving him a small tired smile instead.

“Guess you’re stuck with me. Remind me to dropkick Jaehyun into the sun when he comes back, yeah? Maybe I can make him taste his own medicine.”

Not understanding your words, Sunwoo simply blinked at you, before mimicking your tired smile with a shy one of his own. Unwittingly, your heart melted, and you sighed, holding him a little more protectively against you.

“Noona,” You hummed at Sunwoo. “Are you and that guy witches?”

“Well, I can’t completely say we are a witch, but yeah, something like that.”

Sunwoo furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“But, isn’t witch suppose to has hag-like crone appearance? You are too pretty to be a witch.”

You let out a giggle, face redden at his unexpected compliment as you put him down and ruffled his hair.

This Sunwoo was too innocent. It kinda reminded you of your childhood, where you guys didn’t know anything about magic yet, where you couldn’t do anything besides following Sunwoo around like a lost puppy. It was a nice memory.

“Anyway, have you eat any breakfast before coming here? I have some bread if you want.” He opened his mouth, wanting to decline your offer. But, his stomach spoke louder than his voice. “I will take that as yes to my offer.”

A week almost passed and yet, there was no sign of Sunwoo getting back to his normal state. He was still the six years old Sunwoo who still clueless to magic. You almost run out of excuses to not make him go anywhere—like his house, or more like his parents’ house since the old him live away from them—in this state. He seemed worried about something.

“Hey, Sunwoo. May I ask you about something?” The boy looked up and nodded. “Why do you want to go home so badly? It’s not like I don’t allow you or anything. It just… it’s kinda complicated.”

“Someone is waiting for me at home, and I’m sure she must be looking for me now in worry.”

“Your mom?” He shake his head no. “Then, who?”

“[Name], my friend. She is six years old like me but can’t do anything right without my help.” You blinked and titled your head in confusion. Did he just talk about you, the six years old you? Are you too depended on Sunwoo back then?

He let out a sigh before continued. “She is too innocent to the point she can’t distinguish which is dangerous and not. That’s why I have to go back soon and protect her.”

His speech made you stunned. Who would have thought he still could think of the six years old you in a situation like this. You could not help to wonder, is he still worried about you ‘till now. Maybe you should talk to him more often later.

“She is lucky to have a friend like you.”

“… please keep this a secret between us.”

You saw his cheeks redden at your praise before shyly turned away.

That noon, after the talk you two had, you decided to go down to the city with Sunwoo to have some fun. He must be bored staying at your house for almost a week without any particular to do.

You took him to your favourite cafe to try their famous macaroon, which you sure he will like.

As soon as you entered the cafe you were greeted by Jaehyun, the culprit that went missing for days who happen to be the cafe’s part-timer. If it wasn’t because of his shift, he might have run away from you again. He looked nervous as you made your order.

Your interaction with Jaehyun didn’t go unnoticed by the little Sunwoo.

When you two went sit on one of the vacant seats, he couldn’t help but ask, “Are you and that hyung dating?”

Dumbfounded by the unexpected question, you pointed your finger at Jaehyun and you, shuddered at the unpleasant thought. There was no way you could see your apprentice that way.

“No, we aren’t and never will.”

Sunwoo happily smiled, “Great! Someone pretty like noona shouldn’t date a guy like him.”

“Then, what kind of guy should I date?” You curiously asked. It’s not like you will take his answer seri—.

“Like me!”

Okay, that was unexpected and caught you off guard. Did he indirectly just say that you should date him? Oh gosh, your poor heart. You should teach him to not say something like that carelessly, after all, this kid was too innocent to understand how those words affected you.

“Really?” You decided to play along with him. “Too bad you are too young for me.”

His face looked panicked at the realization.

“Um.. give me a few years. I grow up into a man and ask you out again.” You could only laugh in response, spending the rest of your day with stories and sweets.

Later that night, Sunwoo insisted on sleeping together on your small bed. You let him did whatever he wanted since you didn’t know if you can be this close with him in the future.

You somehow couldn’t get a good night sleep, the talk you two had this noon kept you awake through the night.

Let alone a few years, a few more days you sure he will turn back into his normal self. Completely oblivious of this talk and promises, not remembering the memories you shared these few days.

You two will become awkward toward each other again.

And it made you sad.

The next morning, something woke you up earlier than usual. You felt engulfed in warmth as you’ve never felt before, thinking that Sunwoo had turned off the air conditioner in your room. You attempted to stretch out your hands only to realize they were confined by something—more like by someone.

When you shuffled in place a little to try and turn over, Sunwoo arms that were around your waist tightened. It took you a few second to completely awake and realized that his arms weren’t this long before.

Your heart thumped loudly at the realization, letting a buzzing sensation overtake your chest.

Your first reaction should be jumping out of his embrace and wake him up, maybe express some form of embarrassment and then ask him how he able to turn back into his normal state, but you didn’t. You found yourself not able to do that. Instead, you kept lying beside him like that, let yourself slip back into the dreamland like that.

Little did you know, Sunwoo was awake since the beginning. He should be asking you why he woke up beside you like this, what did Jaehyun do to him, and why he saw the six years old he made a love confession to you. Yet, he decided to enjoy the little moment and pulled you closer to him.

He will deal with those problems later.

Bonus:

"Why are you hiding here, again?" Haknyeon confusedly looked under the table where you were currently hiding right now.

Apparently, after what happened on the morning when the potion’s effect wears off, you’ve been avoiding Sunwoo for a while now. You either stay away from the places that he might visit or hiding at some places until he tired of looking for you for the day. Just like now.

You still not ready to face him in person. The same scene of him hugging you without knowing you were awake at that moment kept replaying in your head. And strangely, it made you felt weird. You actually kinda liked it. The fact he remembered everything after the age regression didn’t make you any less worry—not when it made your relationship became more awkward than before. To make it worse, the source of this problem seemed to be avoiding you too.

Most people on the town knew your relationship with Sunwoo. You two were childhood friends. It shouldn’t be a problem for friends to share the same bed. But, it would be a different case if it happens between friends who almost never talk to each other beside giving each other some greeting and including a sleepy hug, which not the type of skinship that Sunwoo likes to do with you on daily basis, that holding a hidden meaning.

Was he have a feeling for you or something? The little Sunwoo sure had—since he had asked you out at the cafe.

That’s why you either staying away from the places that he might visit, or hiding at some places until he tired of looking for you for the day. Just like now. This was already the third time you hide under the potion room’s one and only table.

Before you could explain it again to Haknyeon, Sunwoo came into the potion room and looked around.

"Hyung, do you happen to see [Name]? I couldn't find her anywhere." You clasped your mouth with your hand, shaking your head and warned the older man to not say anything with your eyes.

Haknyeon sighed and shook his head no, wondering how could he get dragged into your problem.

“I haven’t seen her since this morning. Have you checked the library?” Sunwoo shook his head in response. “I just from there, and she wasn’t there.”

“Maybe Jaehyun hyung could help you with that.”

After making sure Sunwoo had left for good, you came out from your hide out and sighed in relief.

“Thanks, Haknyeon.” He chuckled before putting down the potion in his hand.

“In the first place, why you need to avoiding him like that? You know soon or later you need to face him, right?”

Yes, you knew that, but you would worry about it later—

“Oh hyung, I forget to ask you—“

Or maybe you should worry about it now.

“...She has been hiding here all the time, huh?” Haknyeon tiredly pinched the bridge of his nose and nodded.

Realizing the situation, you quickly activated a teleportation spell and escaped the room. But, you were not fast enough to escape from Sunwoo’s grasp. Which teleport him with you. His tighten his grip around your arm, leaving you no chance to get away from him again.

"Stop running away from me!"

"W-who is running away!?" Sunwoo rolled his eyes at your obvious attempt. Knowing you from kids, he still could see how bad you were at lying. "You did. In fact, you were planning to do it right now."

"Well, you- I-" Your brain went overdrive as you tried to find some excuses.

He put his hands on your shoulder and looked at you in the eyes. And for the first time in the while, you finally looked at him in the eyes. You didn't know why he does that, but it did help you with your nervousness.

"Do you feel much better?" You bobbed. seemed like he still remembers about your habit when nervous. "Now, what are you trying to say?"

"I'm not avoiding you nor running away from you. It just..."

"You keep thinking about the confession that six years old me made, right?" He finished. " To be honest, I did think you're pretty, back when we were a kid until now."

Well, he was not completely wrong. You did think about it sometimes— "Wait, what!?"

"I like you, idiot." He chuckled, flicking your forehead lightly. "Hey! What's that for!?"

"For being a stupid and also a dork." You pouted a little while processing this new information in your brain. Great, now you have a reason to even avoiding him more.

Tack!

"Ouch!" You rubbed your forehead that got flicked again by him, "Stop flicking my head!"

"Then you better not thinking about avoiding me again!" He chuckled a little before finally left you alone. "I'm hoping for my answer soon."

[lvlyhao]

「PART TWO: FEAR」

HUMANITY SERIES; Q.K

A/N: took me long enough to post, I know, but thank you to that last anon for reminding me of the series lol with school i tend to forget what i have and haven’t posted but i’ll do better from now on. i hope you like this :)

important: this chapter includes mentions of vomiting and though i’ve already put a warning for violence and gore in the masterlist, i’m saying it again: please don’t read this if you are not okay with that!!!!

word count: 2.1K

pairing: qian kun x reader

disclaimer: the characters in the story below do not reflect real people or present real facts. this is purely fictional, and you may not copy, change, translate or repost my work in any way. all rights reserved © cherry-hyejin 2021.

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“I’m heading out”, your hands fondly squeeze Taeyong’s shoulders from behind him. He does not look up from his task for a few seconds, counting rolls of gauze. Then, upon processing your words, he twirls to face you. His eyes trail up and down your figure, making a mental checklist of everything you need to be safe. Apparently, one thing is missing.

“Take Jaehyun with you”, he asks, “or maybe Yuta. Johnny is always good to have around, and so is Renjun. Those swords of his are no joke”, he rambles, losing focus. The way he places his hands on his hips and sighs tells you he’s absolutely drained. “Or maybe I should go with you—”

Shaking your head fervently, you pat his cheek for his attention, observing the streaks of noon sunlight across his face. He stares at you with concern and shifts his weight.

“You’re staying right here and so are the boys, Tyong. We haven’t found a survivor in weeks, and taking one of them is always more stressful than anything”, you reason. Recollections of how the boys attract trouble wherever they go cloud your mind, far too many to count. The air suddenly feels too chilly, with shivers running down your spine. 

“Just stay here and maybe find a way to rest. You know Doyoung won’t mind keeping track of the supply for you.”

At this point, he knows it’s no use arguing. 

“Just be careful… and get back before dawn”, he adjusts the collar of your jacket, thinking back to the weather outside of the grey walls of the dorms. “All I’m saying is you never know what you’re gonna find.” Giving you a tight-lipped smile and a nod, he resumes his job, and you leave him. Headed to the heavily locked iron doors guarded by the towering figures of Shotaro and Sungchan, you ask yourself if there was any hidden depth to Taeyong's words.

“You never know what you’re gonna find, huh", you mutter.

Now, roaming the deserted streets on your own and basking in the orange glow of the afternoon, you just think he was wrong. 

It’s already been a couple of hours since you left: you’ve explored parts of the district you barely even knew before the virus, seeing all kinds of animals scurrying around your path. You’ve also eaten the rice balls Jaemin packed for you, and you’ve gawked at the decaying building that used to be your favourite theatre. It’s all the same as you imagined it would be. Not many walkers litter this part of town—just 7 or 8 you managed to avoid—and no people. No one worth rescuing.

Wandering like this, in silence, brings back memories you're not sure you like. Weekly game nights with your friends, attending Jisung’s dance presentations, playing in the park’s playground at night... All of those feel foreign to you, parts of life too good to have ever been yours. Still, the need for a shot of wistfulness takes over, and you sigh. Better now than when it gets late, then. With a shake of your head, you pick a destination and start moving.

You’re conscious of your surroundings as you keep one hand on the bow and make your way across the square. Dry, fiery leaves crunch under your boots, being the only sound you pick up. Nothing looks out of the ordinary, either. The same old abandoned stores seem to look down at you, their busted windows moaning in the wind. But, right then, something jabs at your gut. It's a silent alert to a threat you can't see. 

Damnit. You better pick up the pace.

As soon as you make a turn to the left, spying the pizza place you used to visit, you freeze. Walkers, maybe 10 of them, whimper and try to get past the debris to reach something inside a pharmacy.

How could you not notice them earlier? They’re not a quiet horde, and the awful stench is not something you should have missed either. Have you been that lost in your nostalgia?

Whatever happened, you don't have much time. If the undead are making that much effort to get around the rubble, there has to be someone inside. A fellow human being—hopefully, a nice one. Someone you can help.

Acting out of instincts, you drink in your surroundings. Having your back hastily pressed against a tree trunk is not ideal, but it's what comes to you. While you can't call yourself a strategy master, jumping right into action is not the right plan when someone else's life is in danger. 

Mind racing, you know you need a better shooting spot now if you want to make a move. Drawing them out to an alley is not a totally bad idea either. They wouldn't be able to escape, and maybe then they could flee.

As soon as you found a perfect corner for that, the screech of old door hinges catches your attention. A second later, shattering glass.

Shit. They broke in.

With no more time to assess the situation, you quickly climb up a rotting picnic table. The zombies, some missing a limb, slowly drag their feet towards a man in a plaid, blue shirt. 

He's petrified, head lashing from side to side, looking for a way out. You know very well there is none, and soon enough it will be too late. He’ll be just at reach for those disgusting, putrid fingers. If they get a bite in, it's over for you, and it's over for him.

That’s when you take the stupidest decision of your life.

Screaming.

“YO, YOU POINTLESS MEAT SACK! WHY DON’T YOU LOOK OVER HERE?”

The boy might just get whiplash from how fast his eyes find yours. His are dark and desperate, but there is something else to them—to him. Something you will never find it in you to explain. 

It could have been the way the stares right at your soul, or how his face displays every emotion from relief to terror. You could even say it was how his knees buckled under his weight or his fluttering hair in the wind. You can blame your reaction on a lot of things, but none of them startles you as much as yourself. 

A cold hand grasps at your heart, squeezing it tightly in your chest. Blood drains from your face, and your frame shakes in the wind. You know this sensation all too well to have doubts, although it is what you swore never to feel again. Fear. Not for yourself, no, even when the undead start walking towards you instead. You don't—can't— care enough about your life, and you know it. It is all for him, the beautiful stranger you are going to save.

The first two arrows find their aim, speeding right through the undead’s skulls, but something shifts in your arms. The rest of your arrows now seem to swerve a bit to the sides, lodging themselves on necks or shoulders. In other words, not where they are supposed to. 

Oh, how much you hate that the walkers will only die if you damage their brains.

“Annoying bastards, I swear—”

Falling into a state of near panic, you drop to the floor unceremoniously and race to the horde. If your bow won't do the trick, your other weapons will.

Momentarily thankful for their lack of agility, you pull out the knives hidden on the sides of your shoes. In a flurry of drive, you slash and stab everything around you. While throwing some hand-to-hand-combat here and there, your eyes start to burn. The walkers smell even worse from up close, you bitterly recall from past encounters. It's one of the things that make fighting harder—the urge to run away from them at every second.

The more daring among them clutch at your clothes, keeping your movement limited, but you manage to cut off their hands. The slick sound it makes is enough to make bile rise up your throat, but you swallow it back.

“C’mon, Y/N”, you pant, kicking what had once been an adult woman in the chest to send her down to the asphalt. “You’ve had tougher battles than this." With a breath as deep as you can manage, your knife cuts at another zombie.

It is true, you know. It's impossible to count the times you’ve been up against groups of 20 or more. You were always fine. Right now, though, wincing from multiple wounds scattered around your skin, you question how the hell did you do it.

Hurriedly glancing to your right, you notice 5 are already dead—well, dead-er than they had previously been. The lady you kicked struggles to get up, giving you a gap to spin and bury your knife into her scalp. She goes limp right away, and you stare. 4 more to go.

Just as you retrieve your blade and turn to face the other walkers, something bites your dominant hand. Hard.

With your knife tumbling down in a metallic clunk, fire shoots up your arm. The first thing you do is wiggle your hand back and forth. Some part of you thinks it was going to let go like it’s some sort of dog. You realize you were wrong when darkened saliva flows into the cuts, your mind going blank with agony.

You figure it was one of the undead you had pushed down before, only to lose sight of him later. And, yes, wiggling was a poor attempt at getting him to drop you, but you did it out of pure alarm. Fear is gradually taking over you now, freezing cold and impossible to fight.

With only your non-dominant hand free, you sloppily sink your blade down however many times it takes for the corpse to stop moving. The pain you feel is sharp, travelling through your veins like blue fire. As his grip slackens, the body slumps to the ground, a wet thud echoing. Despite the agony that threatens to blind you, you're aware of the other 3 walkers you have yet to take down.

One is easy enough, with an arrow embedded deep on one side of her neck, and another coming down on her brow bone. Repugnance swirls in your gut, and you have to look away. Their skulls are incredibly soft.

Your remaining enemies pace at either side of you, circling you with dead eyes and faltering strides. You keep your wounded hand close to you while the other clutches the leather grip of your weapon. It's time to put an end to this.

Choosing to go for the right first, you slash at his chest, grimacing at the black blood that oozes. It taints his shredded red hoodie and sprinkles at your front. The shudders that course through you in silent rage give you the strength to finish it off.

In one clean, powerful strike, your knife goes through an eyeball, but he collapses a bit too fast. You can't recover your blade.

Having no weapons on your hands, even for a second, is critical. The walkers are borderline sluggish, but it was easy to lose track of them: your severed hand was proof.

To your relief—or mild disgust—, hasty strides bounce at the pavement behind you, followed by heavy thuds on a slimy surface. It takes no more than 3 seconds for the last body to tumble by your feet, face down. 

It's only then you see the skull, or better, what is left of it. Blood and brain flow over a gaping crack, done by something sharp. You could guess it was the heavy, black rock that you find before you, held in the hands of the man you are supposed to be saving.

From there, you realize his medium length hair is a faded blue, with dark brown at the roots. A grey university hoodie hugs his slim figure under the plaids, matching his cargo pants and busted sneakers. His face is all sharp angles and soft edges, but his gaze is nothing short of magnetic.

Wide, chocolate eyes glare at the body with such horror your own throat tightens. Then, with no words shared, he lets go of the rock and stumbles back like he cannot believe what he did. Your own eyes divert to the cloudless sky, hearing him vomiting on the concrete in a matter of seconds. Poor dude.

Pity, combined with the reminiscents of adrenaline and dread, settle in you. Your thoughts boil down to one small detail: the Sun is setting.

The throbbing on your hand momentarily vanishes, lost in the memory of Taeyong very clearly telling you to be back before dawn. Aside from that, the memory of what you did to get the walkers' attention still burns at your mind. That goddamned shout. Having a sense of hearing as acute as they did, you are sure any other zombies around you are coming your way.

You have fucked up big time.

-------

final notes: ik chapter one wasn’t all that exciting but i’m hoping this one is better wheeze two more to come, stay tuned <3

[pi-creates]

Hey Pi, the person posting your work is me. I want to keep myself anonymous but I want to say to you that I will stop posting your work. I didn’t know I was giving enough credit and I feel really bad about it. But it’s all good and keep doing what you do best! Safe travels and my dearest apologies💜

Believe it or not, anon - but if you’re the one who has gone back and changed your credits section on your posts.... then it’s not you that this is about.

Crazy right?

But I do appreciate your understanding on this, I don’t want to be the bad guy, and I don’t want to have to start... I dunno, watermarking or making my account less accessible to people without tumblr accounts. I’m not about that, I do want people to have access, but this whole situation is so frustrating to me.

So like.... everything below here is me rambling and trying to vent my frustrations about this issue - for people who have asked my permission or credit their edits appropriately, this is not about you.

=====

I went down the rabbit hole and looked, and there are accounts that are directly just reposting 90% of my screenshots without edits or commentary... which is just reposting, and something I also don’t particularly like when it’s as extensive as essentially my whole blog somewhere else, being run by someone else who doesn’t actually make the things they post. 

I have even found people who have decided to not credit at all, or who put a filter on it and decide that means that they can put “Credit:Me” and think that’s accurate and covers everything. It doesn’t. You can say you are responsible for the final product of the edit - but you should still credit the sources.

And I took a sneak peak at the responses people are getting to these posts, and when someone comments on how they “like the images, keep it up!”, those go uncorrected by the poster - who then posts again. This isn’t ignorance, this is taking the praise and not correcting people when you know better.

This isn’t even about me wanting people to only flock here or anything so self-serving. I don’t own the characters, I don’t own the freecam coding, I don’t own the ability to take screenshots - anyone can do this, I encourage people to do this if they like it. I want you guys to be able to have unique images if you want them - but if you want to use mine for something, just say that’s what you’re doing.

If you want to do redraws of my screenshots? Great, use them as references/trace/whatever then tag me or credit me - I’d love to see it. That’s what these resources are good for.

Want to make an edit highlighting your favourite ship in a collage/video? Cool, maybe just put a note in the description saying where the images came from.

Want to use one of my screenshots as your profile picture or wallpaper? Yeah, you do that - if it doesn’t ruin the aesthetic, maybe put a note somewhere if it’s public viewing. 

Do you write fanfics and wanna use any image that isn’t yours as the cover image? Put a note in the description or at the start of the story to let people know where the image is from. You don’t have to repeat this every chapter, just something so a new reader is informed.

Like... I don’t think I’m being unreasonable. I’m just so tired. It’s demoralising to see this stuff, it makes me not want to post anything because it apparently only takes a few hours for someone else to post in somewhere else without crediting it.

I have enough frustrations going on in daily life right now, this is just another one that I don’t want to deal with.

[kim-monsterlings]

Gwynna - F Firbolg x F Human (Reader) // NSFW

The pictures do not belong to me. I only created the mood board. Do not repost my work anywhere.

Content: NSFW/Lemon; mentions of deceit, flirting, an obsession with fruity lip gloss, kissing, sort of strip tease (reader), nipple play (kissing, touching), fingering + orgasming, fluff

Wordcount: 2708

“Tropemas” Summary: for months, the firbolg hadn’t made any progress in her module, until you found out she had already passed it

Notes: Gwynna was my absolute favourite to write and I fell in love with her so this was me intending to personally save best for last - though my gnoll Ollie comes close second. This was intended to be my last tropemas story, but things got away with me and Farren the lich will be here soon. For now, enjoy my absolute sweetheart Gwyn <3

Masterlist // “Tropemas” Masterlist

Being lied to stung. It stung like an anchor breaking the surface of the ocean as your stomach fell, knees weak and heart aching, but not all lies. Only some.

This lie did the opposite.

Finding the firbolg you had tutored for the last eight weeks leaving a classroom she had no business being in - not with her grades, not without passing the module she came to you for help in - hadn’t left you struggling for breath. Beyond the fog clouding your thoughts, the deceit turned you against the wall before she saw you too.

In that same classroom, Silverstone - a silver fox of a wyvern-shifter - had taught you the year before, in the year Gwynna studied in. Only he taught the optional module, and it was all he led. If Gwynna hadn't passed the one you tutored, her compulsory module, she couldn't have taken it.

Which seemed odd, as she'd failed her past two exams.

The library remained ever quiet when you set up your usual booth with old textbook notes and the textbook itself, decorated in part by Gwynna's doodling as she tired of your lessons; small flowers matching those she wove into her bright hair, like the flowers she grew at home far from the city, or small notes you later stumbled upon, on paper torn from her notepad, and always little compliments: 'you looked cute today', 'i love your perfume', 'try the tea with honey i promise you'll love it!'

Many of your prior tutees had passed the module with your help, yet Gwynna’s grades only worsened since spending longer hours with you. Her lack of focus had changed how you tutored, though it was obvious now her inability to settle wasn’t through boredom or confusion, but because she already knew it all.

You greeted the golden-skinned firbolg with the same smile as always, smothered in her warm hug. Standing “only” at seven foot - apparently short for firbolgs - and always carrying the scent of the woods and flowers, you returned the close hug and breathed deep. She was glowing in the sunlight, wearing wide, flared trousers and a warm jumper.

"I bought tea," you said. Her wide ears twitched as you handed her a cup. "Three sugars, no honey."

"No honey?"

"They didn't have any, Gwyn. It's a university library café." Her sigh lifted your smile, and maybe a little cruelly, too. "I wanted to try something today. Practice exam."

Her voice weakened. "Tea without honey and a practice exam? Do you hate me?"

The knot in your chest forced you to take her hand with a small squeeze before her crestfallen face ruined you. She played you too well after weeks together: always with the soft, doe eyes and pinned back ears. Gwynna exhaled - her next words inevitably to question if she still had a test, until you closed her warm fingers around a pen.

Baby blue eyes narrowed. "What are you doing for an hour?"

“Looking over some old material.” You smiled, not ignorant to her throat bobbing. The textbook for Silverstone’s module rested before you. “Never hurts to refresh it.”

Her lips parted on a breath many times, so close to speaking. It was your pen bitten by her teeth and not the first - you had separate pens for her now. She hadn’t yet opened the test when she straightened. "Did you reconsider tutoring more modules?"

“Like Silverstone’s?” Beneath overgrown bangs, she looked to you with a soft nod. “Maybe once you pass your module, I’d reconsider.”

The pen returned to her glossy lips. On the first evening of coffees and yawns, Gwynna asked of other modules but this was the only one you tutored. Not even a week later, she failed her exam. Had it counted toward her final grade, the sessions would have been far longer beforehand and from then - until a second mock she again failed, the nights together in your corner of the library ran long after dark.

With her final only over a month from today, her grades from practice exams were still low. You almost wanted to see how long she could pretend for.

"Do you want to try the tea?"

The small, paper cup dripped damp marks onto her unopened test paper and you smiled. "Don't distract yourself, Gwyn."

"I'm not! Isn't yours so plain?"

"Will you at least try the test if I try it?"

In the same sweet tone you pretended to reconsider tutoring for Silverstone, Gwynna passed her tea. “I might.”

The sweetness stuck on your tongue; too sickly, far too hot, but you loved it. Not for the tea but the fruity flavour of her lipgloss on the rim. It wasn’t the tea warming through you, tightening your chest. Her lips curled; she could read you too well, but not well enough to know why you were flushed.

"Finish the test."

Every new question, she stalled. Her pen spun in her slender fingers or her tail twitched by your hip. Those feigned moments of confusion had before guilted you for failing to help her, but tonight you sipped your tea and watched when her forehead scrunched.

Then she would deliberately choose the wrong answer.

"Worst score yet, Gwyn." Only someone with a complete understanding of which answers were right could fail so spectacularly, but she winced all the same. “Your mock next week,” your said quietly - there wasn’t one, not with the final so close, but Gwynna had no idea as she looked up. “Would a change of environment help? If could bring honey tea to yours.”

“No.” The pain sharp in your chest couldn’t be only the desire to catch her in the act of failing, but you fought it. Gwynna brushed her long fringe from her rounding eyes before touching her hand to yours. "I have sweeter tea at home."

"Friday?"

Friday worked.

From then to Friday, you shared one more evening bundled in the corner booth. Gwynna never once touched a pen or a textbook in the session. For hours, she leaned against you, legs pressed tight and her tail wound to your ankles. So far your favourite night together as she spoke of home - even inviting you back in the holidays to the woods. Despite her teasing for your scrawled handwriting, nothing warmed you more than her warm hands taking yours, tracing the smudged ink and she held it until the end of your session.

Dressing in the outfit she always complimented most on Friday evening was coincidence, nothing more.

Her single flat off wasn’t far from you, both living off of campus, though Gwynna distanced from city centre. The flat’s cosy quiet led you into a tiny lounge where she hugged you close - “look at you! So pretty,” she’d whispered, leaning down - before leading you round with a hand in yours to the smaller kitchen.

In plain sight, Silverstone’s textbook tucked beneath the module you taught on her coffee table. 

"Before I make tea," she hummed, filling the kettle. Her hair swung in a thick plait down to the middle of her back as she turned, eyes bright. "You're not making me do another practice test are, you?"

"Would you throw me out if I did?"

"Yes."

“Maybe later,” you teased. Her lips twitched but she held a frown until reaching for mugs on a shelf much taller than you. “How are you finding things?"

Her voice warmed the small room, backed by the small clinks of her spoon in the mugs. Without asking, she made your tea how you liked - frowning and grumbling at the lack of sugar as she did, before offering you a biscuit. Homemade, so you couldn't resist.

"How do you find our sessions, too?"

Gwynna blinked over her shoulder before winking. "Highlights of my week."

Streetlights softened the smile on her dark lips. They glistened with her fruity lipgloss, pulled into a wider smile when you welcomed the hot tea in her favourite mug; favourite for her favourite person, she'd whispered, and the golden tint to her skin flushed.

"I forgot to ask..." She hummed so gently you nearly refrained from asking, scared of upsetting her. Though she had lied to you for weeks, so spoke softly, casually. "How do you find Silverstone? Do you like him?"

"Oh, I love him! He teaches almost like you, actually-"

If you hadn’t reached for her hand, her sweet tea and mug would have shattered by your feet. From curses to apologies, she stammered, quieting the more she backed away from the kitchen. She never moved her hand from yours.

Silverstone had been your favourite lecturer. To hear her compare you was a high compliment and a reassurance that your style of tutoring wasn’t an utter failing. Had she not refused to look back at you, the compliment would’ve meant much more.

One, soft gasp came at her legs pressing back against the sofa. She had nowhere to run to with her fingertips still brushing yours. Her fringe shadowed her closed eyes. With every call of her name, her ears turned back, so you tiptoed. Her frilly collar tickled your palm but it was enough to lower her for your lips to meet.

All seven foot of her fainted back. Her arms stroked around your waist until you followed her down. She lost all timidity in settling you on her lap and turning her face against yours, foreheads together.

"You kissed me. You just kissed me."

"And I'd do it again, Gwyn.” Her breath came as a whine when you loosened her collar to stroke her neck. “If you let me."

Her kiss was your answer. She tasted of sweet fruits, more than just the gloss of her lips, more than the tea still warm on her tongue, like she was yours to taste and hold. The warm hand then stroking your hip tightened, gently running lower until she was squeezing your ass and shifting you closer across her wide thighs.

"I never meant to lie," she whispered. Like the reminder of her deceit could lose you, she ran her nose to yours and indulged again until you gasped. "That was... that was a lie. I did mean to lie to you. I didn't want you to stop tutoring me, and-"

“Gwyn, none of that matters. Not when you’re trying to undress me.”

Even leaning back beneath you, her face rose above yours. She softened her kiss and her fingers before tentative on your back dipped beneath the waist of your trousers, low enough you hummed into her lips and louder with her tongue sweet to yours. Loose strays on her nape ran through your fingertips, holding her closer with parted mouth kisses following your jaw lower. 

"When did you pass the module?"

She mumbled something into your throat so low you couldn't hear, and sighed. "The day after we met."

"Gwynna, that... you never needed my help?"

Her cheeks flushed a warmer shade. "I nearly corrected you sometimes. I'm sorry! I'm," she rasped, curling you close when you reared back, jaw fallen low. "I can make it up to you?"

Heat rounded her stare, eyelashes fluttering in a deliberate, blatant look down and up to your warming face. She was the one to unbuckle your belt, but you rose from her thighs with a parting kiss to stand, bending lower to undress.

Gwynna curled her fingers into the edge of the sofa cushions. Standing before her in only your underwear made you hesitate, but her soft, whispered plea undid the clasp of your bra. Her groan muffled behind bitten lips though she never once looked away when your thumbs tucked behind the hem of your underwear, and they fell.

Nothing could delay her any longer with you bare and in reach. The strength of a firbolg dragged you returned to straddling her lap. Her thighs spread wider and parted your legs, bound close at her mercy. Though with the way she trembled, a whisper of your name before she lifted a hand to your chest, you had never felt more in control.

"How are you going to make it up to me, Gwyn?"

Her smile was your last sight before she stole your breath and tasted your moan. Sweet and warm, delicate like the careful touch exploring you. The smooth pad of her thumb stroked your nipple and shivers bloomed beneath her touch

Her lips silenced you. Sweet and warm, delicate like her touch as she explored you. The pad of her thumb stroked your nipple and she ran her fingertips down your spine, sending small shivers through you.

Not following the falling of her palm left you crying and holding her shoulders tight. Her finger stroked low and entered you to the knuckle. Gwynna’s laugh softened to a shy smile.

“Like this,” she said and curled her finger to stroke deeper, following your fluttering walls around her. “Is this okay?”

That she asked warmed you, but you were quicker to burn when your body clenched against two crooked fingers. “More. More, please.”

It was an oversight, not to follow her fallen hand; an oversight making you cry and curse and clutch her shoulders tight when she eased a thick finger between your legs, a sheepish smile lifting her lips when she looked up.

“More,” she echoed. Only her hand cupping your nape held you from falling back when your back arched in pleasure. With her fingers finding a hastening rhythm, her thumb brushed against your clit before rubbing it firmer. “More?”

She held you tighter when you panted, “give me everything.”

Her blouse fell loose on her arms under your hands until your bodies pressed flush, the heat of her stirring through to where her fingers slowed. Gwynna stole the breath you desperately needed when your eyes rolled back, the coaxing of her three fingers lifting you to your peak.

Gwynna’s breathing deepened with yours. Each stroke of her fingers came against your hips grinding down, her hair loose under your tugging. “What do you need? You’re so close,” she hummed, nestling against your chest and sucking your nipple into her mouth. “So pretty.”

She was there, touching you where you needed to be touched, breathing as hard and as hot as you were. "How does it feel? What do you need?"

“I need you. To touch-”

Her cosy flat erupted with light. Gwynna’s kisses marked your chest above your racing heart but never slowed the firm touch on your swollen clit. Through your legs trembling and walls clenching around her still moving hand, she prolonged the intense pleasure until your cries softened into quieter moans against her shoulder.

Warm arms curled you to her chest, slumped and still tingling. Her nose bumped yours and on lifting your glossy stare, her lips parted to suck your release from her fingers. The teasing wink as she licked you from her lips made your stomach flutter.

"Was that okay?"

"More than okay," you mumbled. "Lie to me anytime."

Her forehead creased. "We never finished our tea."

"Gwyn, we won't finish them."

Nestled into your throat, her lips pulled up. She nibbled at your jaw and laid close, the both of you swaying until the rush faded and your breathing slowed. In the pause before you begged Gwynna to carry you to her bedroom - your legs still trembled, her hand running up to your thigh - you tipped her chin up. Her eyes closed in anticipation of a kiss which you surrendered too before swallowing a laugh.

"You'll find this funny," you began, and she hummed, tucking hair behind your ear. "I planned on asking you out when I was no longer your tutor."

Gwynna's wide ears drooped. "This took so long because of me?"

"That depends." As you had, she shivered from the brush of your fingertips running along the cups of her bra; it would be off in minutes. "How long have you wanted me?"

"Why do you think I wanted you as my tutor?"

“Take me to your bedroom,” you whispered.

Gwynna laid you down on her bed, where the night drifted passed in many kisses and returned favours, until you woke to do it again.