#bear in mind dear reader that this trip is SIX MONTHS AWAY!!!!

[yououghtaknow]

i have such a grindset but Only when it comes to booking the Optimal tickets for viewing experiences.

[imaginativeamateur]

|Headcanons| Second Round ft. Indra Otsutsuki

Pairing: Indra Otsutsuki x fem!Reader

Note: This one is a request I received 2 months ago, sorry for being a sloth :'))) And please don't misunderstand the name :D this is SFW. It seems like y'all really like these pregnant headcanons (I just received another one for Gaara, will be jumping on the boat soon, or jumping into the Gaara black hole :DD) This is Indra's debut on my blog and honestly I can already tell I need to visit the dentist because this is just too sweet for my teeth to handle :DD By the way, Indra's eyebrows remind me of Jura's from Fairy Tail :DD Okay, I'm being weird, but Merry Early Christmas! Enjoy!

You didn’t know that you were bearing his child until you were six weeks pregnant. You couldn’t believe what the doctor said either, and it took you a good while before you were able to convey the words to your dear husband—Indra.

Indra and you weren’t expecting an addition to your small family, given that your toddler just turned three and Indra was on cloud nine when he could finally sleep in complete peace, away from your child’s midnight cries and wails. He ogled at the report and turned away from you, disappeared out of your house in a split second. You were burning with questions as to his abrupt departure, hurt even. But half an hour later, the man came back, dragging a brand new crib and several bags of diapers behind. You instantly felt guilty, pouting at your baseless assumptions, and he didn’t know why you remained sulking for the rest of the day.

That night, he was unable to sleep. Indra kept turning in your shared bed, looking at you, then at your still flat belly, and back at the ceiling. You quietly wondered what was racing in his mind, but no matter how much you bugged him to reveal his thoughts, he didn’t spill a word. In fact, he was just wracking his brain to figure the day that your unborn baby was conceived and was too embarrassed to admit his doings.

When your husband was trying to tell your three-year-old toddler that he would be having a baby sister in seven more months, Indra's expression was of the most serious ones you had ever witnessed in the entirety of your time together. It was illegally entertaining. And when your little boy’s eyes widened in amazement, Indra felt as if he defeated a whole army of evil spirits.

During your first trimester, when morning sickness was quite tiresome, you often found Indra drowning himself in cookbooks. All your meals were then replaced by his homecooked dishes, ranging from all sorts of cuisines he learned from his research to ensure quality nutrition. He would feel deeply insulted if you didn’t gain more weight every single day. Even seeing you getting a teeny tiny bit heavier brought heaven down to earth for him.

Since he wasn’t with you for the majority of your first pregnancy with your toddler, Indra was considered a newbie to this whole deal. He was clueless, but a very fast learner. He learned where you felt pain and soreness, when you needed to make a trip to the bathroom, when you craved the weirdest combinations of food he could ever think of—he learned everything utterly quickly. Swollen feet? Believe it or not, Indra sought out a legit therapist to learn more about this specific area of interest. Ramen in the middle of the night? He would always have everything prepared before your second call from the bedroom.

When your little baby girl started kicking, you shouted too loudly and startled Indra. He immediately dropped his ninjutsu creation task and fled to your side, not forgetting to scoop your toddler, who was trying to generate a small fireball nearby, with him. Indra’s jaw dropped when he literally felt something moving underneath his palms. Afterward, he chucklingly scolded your baby for kicking you too hard, warning her that she must use less force, otherwise, he would not read bedtime stories to her anymore.

Speaking of bedtime stories, Indra had them memorized by heart, which resulted from having to put your first child to bed for the past three years. If there was something worth noting of Indra's recent developments, it would be the fact that he could recall every single story without fail whenever and wherever he wanted. It was like he brought a legit library of children's books with him. And you found that overwhelmingly cute. You brought that up with him once—how good he was with those stories—and he swore he would never do it again if you kept on making fun of him. In the end, Indra still couldn’t resist the urge to whisper random things to your growing belly at night, and those stories just happened to slip past his lips very naturally, unintentionally.

One of his favorite things to do was to name your baby. Indra spent sleepless nights thinking of the perfect name for your baby girl—nights. Sometimes, you saw him pulling on his hair as he banged his head on the desk in his study. There were only two reasons behind that—he either got stuck on work, or he just hit a blank in generating your child’s name.

Indra bragged with everyone about your pregnancy glow, how pretty you looked—round with a child growing within you, with his child. The man enjoyed showing you off to everyone as an expecting wife, his expecting wife. Your three-year-old found his father’s acts very worthy of imitation and began boasting about your pregnancy and his expecting baby sister with his friends—like father, like son.

Indra was terrified when you went into labor, to say the least. He had been there once, but it never got less nerve-wracking for the poor man. He didn’t let go of your hand, assisting you in pushing and dabbing sweat off your forehead. This sight of him was extremely rare to see, making the labor nurses a bit perplexed. But Indra couldn’t care less. The moment he heard a loud cry from your newborn turned another page to his life—with the four of you.

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

Taglist: @dai-tsukki-desu @darling-imobsessed @animepickle7 @simping-master-69 @tirzamisu @rinnegankakashi @the-tiniest-one @greenshirtimagines @adeards @chloe-secret @rory-cakes @byyalady @icedemon1314 @melovehiddlestan@sharingangirl

[fishmongeringstudies]

twelve: put your best foot forward

limbo is, first and foremost, a state of mind. after all, if one exists between places then you are fundamentally undefinable by any known parameters and speak no language that can be parsed by those on either side of the ravine. consider the space between two fingers. it is just enough to suggest distance. but not enough for one more.

for example: it is extremely hard to bring yourself to buy eggs at target when you know that in six days you will have to drag your two suitcases and mirror and 5 x 3ft carpet and seven bottles of nail polish and 25 extra articles of clothing purchased across various retail therapy sessions and goodwill trips across campus to your summer dorm, your real vacation getaway, and that the eggs, in the event that you buy them, will be part of this equation. what i mean to say is i am stuck in this ten day vacation getaway room and i really fucking want eggs. but i cannot finish a dozen in six days or at least should not try and a kilometer is quite a distance when you are, you know, without car, without assistance, without comrades on the vast battlefields of life who will rush to your rescue, eyes wild and flashing like stop-signs with teeth.

to clarify, i do have friends. i say this in the defensive manner indicative of one who has fewer friends than they would personally prefer to have; i admit this. but the circumstances being what they are one learns to make do with what they have. it is summer, after all, and we are in a pandemic. has anyone mentioned this to you recently? if you live in america perhaps the answer is no. if you live anywhere except for america i imagine the answer is yes.

without my realizing it, june has sneaked past my unlocked door, swept across the unswept floor, and ate all of my furniture. i am sitting in an empty room now, beneath the ungodly bedframe, laughing at something you just said. who are you? you are whoever you want to be. never apologize for being yourself. never apologize. be unapologetic.

today i had to feed myself. this was a challenge but to be very fair when you are me most things in life are a challenge. when i was younger i thought it was introversion. now i think i am simply very good at gauging worst case scenarios and then living, alone, in all of them for ridiculously long periods of time. i move from one bad dream to another like a balloon cast to the wind, tossed this way and that, my shirt flapping up to reveal a swathe of fur, dark burgundy, velvet eyes- suddenly i am a bear. like a literal one. not the. no. not like that.

happy pride month! this morning i subjected myself to the horrifying experience of being known and approached the grocery store next to campus like one might approach an exceptionally beautiful person at a ball who looks like they might also kill you. after staring at every object in every aisle for approximately three minutes i left with whole wheat bread, peanut butter, a one liter tub of yogurt, and tuna. the tuna was canned, a fact which came to light later on in the afternoon when i remembered that i do not have a can opener. the yogurt is unsweetened. good thing then that i am such a sweet individual. naturally intoxicating. prone to health problems. prone to fear.

i underestimated myself. health may be a social construct but i would very much like to live to see summer's end so that when july comes crawling in through the window with a face full of cuts i may return to singapore, the home that refuses to be a home, and jump all of my old friends. i will hug each one for at least twenty-five seconds. i decided this in the last minute. because i have decided on it it will happen.

happy pride month! my identity is a laundry list of things you cannot buy at your local grocery store no matter how hard you try and that will therefore piss you off until you realize online shopping is always an avenue, but you already know this. i have other thoughts about what it means to articulate yourself to other people, to become legible in a world full of so many languages; i will save them for later. i have thoughts, also, about retrospection and the fear of the unknown. later. i underestimated myself. i should have bought a can opener. one day into masterchef america and i am already suffering from a protein deficiency.

today while walking along the train platform on my way back to my room i passed by an old man who smiled at me so brilliantly i was convinced the sun would burst right through his skin and engulf him in fire. there is a shower stall on every floor of this building whose drain does the opposite of allowing things to pass through it. i am one of those people who must rinse their toothbrush both before and after applying toothpaste. life is art, dear reader. life is a spice garden. and we are drowning in it, see, we are in a perpetual state of gasping. it is not easy to make the lungs clap, after all, no easy feat at all to stand tall when trapped between two much taller buildings, when stuck between a vivid spring hallucination and whatever summer promises to be, but we do it all the same. it's what makes us human, i think.

you want a defining trait for this species? it's the stupidity and the stubbornness. who else is so bullheaded, so unrepenant? who else rages against a system designed to contain rage, to file it away in a cabinet for future consideration by masked ghouls and specters cloaked in skin? who else falls in love with love like this, wants like this, yearns for the soft exterior of a half-boiled egg and the ruined gaze of another?

only us. only we possess such a remarkable capacity for hope. and so we continue to dream.

06.01.21

[bonjour-rainycity]

The Long Way Around ~ Chapter 15

Link to previous part: https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/625017063484833792/the-long-way-around-chapter-14

Pairing: Jasper x Reader

Word count: 3041

Warnings: None

Jasper’s POV

“And you’re being safe?” Y/n’s voice, sounding small over the phone, floats from the speaker to my ear.

“I promise, Darlin, we’re taking every precaution possible. We won’t even meet officially with Aro and the others until later; Carlisle wanted to wait for a formal invitation to approach.” The reassurance, as well as the pet name, rolls off my tongue easily. I had used it the other day and felt her immediate affinity for it, and vowed to use it more often.

“Does he know what he’s going to say?”

I shake my head and lean back against the door. “He’s working on that right now with Esme. But Carlisle’s a natural diplomat, I have no doubts the right words will come to his mind.”

“That’s good…What’s the hotel like? I haven’t been to one in forever.” Then, she chuckles lowly. “I haven’t been anywhere outside this house and these woods in forever.”

I smile, feeling empathy for her struggle. “Give you just a few more months and I think we might be able to take a trip somewhere. Not somewhere too populated, but maybe camping?”

Her voice takes on a dreamy quality when she responds, and I can hear the smile in her words. “We could go to the mountains. Watch the sky, go swimming, eat bears.”

I chuckle at her addition. “Alright, it’s a date.” She hums in agreement and I take a minute to enjoy the melodic sound of her voice. I can’t wait to hear her in person again. I shake myself out of my thoughts before I can get too stuck on missing her. “But to answer your question, the hotel is really nice. Gold ceilings, open balconies, huge bathtubs…you would like it.” Ugh, I wish she was here with me. Again, I have to stop my thoughts. I have a job to do, and I need to be focused if I’m going to fulfill my promise of getting back to Y/n. I have respect for the Volturi, to a degree, but part of that respect involves acknowledging their capabilities. And, if they wanted to, they could destroy Carlisle, Esme, and me in a blink of an eye. Sure, I would put up a good fight, and, based on my experience, I would have a good chance of making it out alive. I could possibly even take Carlisle or Esme with me, thought I had no desire to ever make that choice. So, I must make every effort to avoid a fight. And that means helping Carlisle prepare for his discussion with Aro and, once we’re in the room, not letting my focus slip, even for a second. I’ll have to keep a close monitor of everyone’s moods, and adjust them in a way that will influence a favorable outcome.

“I’m sure I would.” Y/n’s voice pulls me from my assessment. Then, from her side of the phone, I hear Rosalie calling her name. There’s regret in Y/n’s voice when she speaks. “That’s Rose, I’ve gotta go. She and Emmett took the day off from classes and are helping me with the blood desensitization. I promised her we’d go outside at eight.” A quick check to my watch confirms the time, in her zone at least. Here in Italy it’s well into the afternoon.

“Good,” I say, wanting to focus on the positive. “The more you do it, the easier the burning and temptation will be to bear.” I would know. “I’ll be with Carlisle and Esme here in the hotel, at least until dark. It’s so sunny here.”

She can hear the distaste in my voice, and laughs. “Poor Jasper, he has to stay inside. That must suck.”

I laugh with her, and hear Rosalie calling her again. This time, impatience colors Rosalie’s voice. I sigh. “Well, I better let you go. Good luck with desensitization, and call me if you need anything.”

Her voice is soft, sad, when she responds. “You too. Gosh, Jasper, please be safe.”

I desperately hope my voice doesn’t betray my own sadness when I respond. “I will, I promise.”

She’s quiet for a moment, the only sounds coming from her shaky breathing, and I want nothing more than to get on the first flight home, or swim if I have to, and scoop her into my arms. But her voice is steady when she speaks, and that calms me slightly. “Bye babe.”

“Bye.”

She hangs up the phone.

I love you.

The words, on the edge of my lips already, beg to be said. But it’s not the right time. Those words need to be said in person, when she can hear, see, and feel how much I mean them. So I’ve got to focus on making sure I get home so I can prove to her how much I mean them.

I take a deep breath, then open the door, entering the hallway. We’d decided to get two rooms in the hotel. Mainly, it helps avoid suspicion. An obvious husband and wife plus some random, only slightly younger guy makes no sense, especially when we don’t want to attract unnecessary attention. But the second, unspoken reason, is so Carlisle and Esme can have a space to themselves. Again, I feel a pang, wishing Y/n was here with me. One day, I remind myself, and continue down the hall to Carlisle and Esme’s room. I make my footsteps extra loud, even by human standards, so they’ll be warned of my approach. But they welcome me in, having only been working on Carlisle’s talking points.

Esme scoots over so I can sit next to her at the foot of the bed, opening her arms for a hug. “How’s Y/n doing?”

I smile, enjoying Esme’s affection. “She’s good, just worried about us. Rose and Emmett called her away to work on desensitization.”

Carlisle nods. “Good, consistency with that is important.”

“It must be strange for her,” Esme muses, “without us there. Especially you, Jasper. What’s the longest you two have been away from each other?”

“Six hours.” The answer comes easily, because I’d already done the math. Right now, it’s been fourteen hours, and I’m antsy. It just makes me feel anxious being away from her, especially with all that could go wrong. A human could surprise them and she could lose control, another vampire could attack and she could be hurt or killed. And, of course I know no one in our family would ever hurt her intentionally, but say she wrestles with Emmett and he overestimates her strength? What if she loses a finger or gets another bite?

Carlisle’s hand on my shoulder breaks me from my thoughts. “It’ll get easier with time, son.”

I rub the back of my neck, sheepish. “Am I that obvious?”

“Yes,” Esme says with a soft smile. Her happiness surrounds me, and I uncharacteristically lay my head on her shoulder. Her joy increases, as does Carlisle’s fondness.

“Okay, you two,” I chuckle, ready for the focus to be off of me. “Let’s get to planning.”

“Right.” Carlisle straightens and walks back to the front of the room, all business.

{***}

In the middle of the night, when most humans are sound asleep, I feel a new presence, one harboring suspicion.

“Carlisle,” I caution, darting to the hotel door. He and Esme freeze, and we wait quietly.

We hear the footsteps, four sets of them, hitting the carpet, two heavy, two light. They walk slightly faster than the average human, supporting my theory that it’s vampires who come to meet us. Their scent hits me a second later, and I fight the urge to go on the defensive. Still, I position myself in front of the door, blocking the path to Carlisle and Esme.

The footsteps come to a stop, and a heavy knock hits the door. At Carlisle’s nod, I open it, and am met with four familiar vampires wearing robes in varying shades of Volturi black.

The smallest, the most terrifying, of the four speaks, a smile on her face that does not reach her bright red eyes. “Aro will see you now. You may come with us.”

{***}

The way into the castle is dark and smells old. At least one vampire with glowing red eyes guards every exit, and the message is clear: You don’t leave unless we allow you to. From my spot at the rear of our group, I keep a watchful eye. Carlisle goes first, keeping an arm around Esme’s waist. The only one who’s spoken to us so far, Jane, turns to us, and thankfully, she only means to speak again.

“Wait here.”

I feel Esme and Carlisle’s apprehension, and do what I can to calm them and give them courage. I also feel suspicion from Felix and Dmitri, who I see in the corner of my eye, and I ease that as well. Not taking any chances. From the corridor above, I hear a clumsier set of footsteps, and the scent hits me in the face. Human. I turn to Carlisle, having not expected to smell that sweet temptation here in this fortress of vampires.

“The Volturi keep a handful of humans in their employ,” Carlisle explains, seeing my questioning gaze. “Eventually, it is likely that they will become vampires.”

“Or a meal,” Alec, who stands to my right, smirks.

Ah.

The mahogany door creaks open, and Jane peeks her head out. “Come in.”

The air inside the room feels cold, even to a vampire. I’m guessing it’s due to the high, lofty ceilings and complete lack of natural light, as well as the ten vampires now occupying the space.

“Carlisle, my dear friend,” a pleasant, high pitched voice coos. I immediately recognize him from Carlisle’s paintings: it’s Aro. In chairs to his right and left sit Marcus and Caius. “It is truly a pleasure to see your smiling face once again.”

Aro stands, sweeping forward to stand in front of Carlisle. I’m tempted to tense, but Carlisle seems unaffected.

“I have missed you too, my friend. It has been too long.”

“Indeed.” Aro’s voice carries a measured amount of regret, but I feel none from him, only curiosity and suspicion.

“I’m sure you remember my wife, Esme, and this is my son, Jasper.”

“Ah, the lovely Esme! So wonderful to see you again. And Jasper, I am so pleased to make your acquaintance.” He’s not lying. I can feel his joy as well as his envy. “I must admit that I am intrigued by your gift. May I? I so wish to understand how it works.”

Knowing refusal would only get us into trouble, I take a few steps forward so I’m on Esme’s other side and hold out my hand. Swiftly, Aro grasps it in his, his hand papery. His eyes flicker as he takes in my thoughts. I concentrate, feeling his emotions as he invades my mind. Fear, suspicion, anger, annoyance, curiosity, and desire. As quickly as he took it, he releases my hand, taking a step back.

“I was aware of your involvement in the Southern wars for territory but I admit I did not understand the extent. It is miraculous that you survived.” Aro feels shocked, as well as calculating. No doubt he’s considering how to use my past to his advantage.

“Yes, I am very lucky. I don’t believe I would have lived had I not gotten out when I did.”

Carlisle comes to my aid. “The Southern wars were truly horrific. We are very glad Jasper left that behind and joined our family.”

Aro’s interest piques. “Yes, and it seems you have collected a new member of your coven! Tell me, how is she adjusting?”

I fight the urge to grit my teeth as we get closer and closer to a topic I had very much hoped to stay away from: Y/n.

“Well, thank you,” Carlisle’s voice is calm, but his words are careful. “We have taught her our laws and are educating her in our lifestyle. She is learning quickly.”

“Yes, I can see that.” Aro licks his lips, his eyes flickering to me. “Jasper, allow me to offer my congratulations. I wish you and Y/n both a long and happy life together.”

I barely register Carlisle and Esme’s bursts of happiness as I zero in on Aro, not liking where his mood, or this conversation, is going. “Thank you, I appreciate that.”

“And perhaps, when she is better controlled, I will get a chance to meet her. I must admit, her powers intrigue me.”

No!

Now I do grit my teeth as I fight to keep my precarious calm. Esme slips her hand into mine, and I use that as my anchor. Do not provoke anything. That will only make Aro more curious and bring further trouble for your family, for Y/n.

Aro diverts his attention momentarily to explain Y/n’s abilities to the room. I feel their interest and curiosity, and it makes my skin crawl. Carlisle smiles, trying to lighten the tension I’m causing. I force myself to reign it in and send waves of calm throughout the room. Focus.

“Yes, perhaps,” Carlisle allows, taking a noncommittal stance. “But my friend, there is a matter I had hoped to discuss with you.”

“Why yes, of course Carlisle, what is it?” He already knows, having seen the thoughts in my head, but still, I breathe a sigh of relief. For now, the attention is turned away from my love. As much as I miss her, I am so glad she’s not here. There’s no doubt in my mind that conversation would have turned out differently had she been standing at my side.

Carlisle continues. “My family and I were attacked a few days ago.”

Aro feigns shock. “My, my, Carlisle, tell me everything.”

Carlisle launches into an explanation of the past few months, starting with Esme’s encounter and ending with a telling of the battle. All throughout, Aro maintains a mask of perfect reactions: shock, outrage, sympathy, determination. But that’s exactly what it is: a mask. The whole time, I feel only his annoyance. He’s upset at having been found out. But of course, we can’t present our suspicions and he can’t acknowledge his involvement. Each party must tread carefully in order to keep the peace. I do what I can to push us in that direction.

“Carlisle, I regret the turmoil your family has been through. Tell me, how can I help you heal from this?” I nearly quirk a smile. To anyone who wasn’t me or Edward, Aro would be incredibly convincing.

“Many covens visit the Volturi. I came to request that, if you or a member of your coven becomes aware of an impending attack, you do your best to discourage such actions. Many people respect you, friend. Your words will carry weight.”

Such a diplomat my father figure is, I think fondly. I’m grateful he’s here.

Aro’s annoyance deepens, but his face shows nothing unpleasant. “Of course, I will do what I can.”

Carlisle offers a smile, and I can feel his satisfaction. “Thank you. I knew I could count on you.”

Aro claps his hands, his anticipation rising. “Now that we are done with business, perhaps we could move along to pleasure? We were just about to start dinner. Wouldn’t you join us?”

The request, innocent enough to human ears, has a terribly sinister connotation in the vampire world. The burn increases in my throat, and I swallow, trying to ignore the pain. Esme’s hand tightens in mine, and I wonder if she’s suffering as I am?

Carlisle’s sadness doesn’t seep into his voice, but it is still evident. “Thank you for the invitation, but my family and I are content with our diet.”

Aro’s eyes, glistening red with the pigment only gained from true, human blood, dart to me. “Yes, I’m sure you are.”

The chatter of a group of humans, as well as their scent, reaches me, and I force myself to stop breathing. Do not slip up.

“I’m afraid we must be going. It will be light soon, and I do believe it would be wise to avoid attracting attention.”

Aro chuckles, enjoying Carlisle’s banter. “Yes, I agree. Safe travels, my friend.”

As we turn to leave, Marcus catches our attention. “When your newborn is more adept at controlling herself, please extend our invitation. We would be interested in meeting her.”

Burning with thirst and fear at their mention of Y/n, I clench my free hand into a fist. Carlisle sends me a cautioning glance.

“I will pass on your offer.”

“Yes, do that,” a new voice, Caius’, joins the conversation. “It will be interesting to see how her powers compare to our Jane’s.”

Absolutely not. I whip around, taking a step in Caius’ direction. Immediately, Carlisle is on my other side and he and Esme have a firm grip on my shoulders.

Aro giggles, evidently enjoying my reaction. “Now, Caius, you know it is not wise to speak against someone’s mate, especially when it is so new. Jasper, I assure you, your young love will find no danger here. Go in peace.”

I don’t believe him, not for a second. If Aro decides Y/n is a threat or an asset, she’s in danger.

But Carlisle and Esme’s hands are tight on my shoulders and the scent of the humans is getting stronger. It’s time to go.

On our way out, we pass the group of humans, most of them college-aged, chattering excitedly. It seems to be a late-night ghost tour. Little do they know, their demise is imminent. I’m thrown into flashbacks of my own experience killing humans, and the remnants of fear I feel from them nearly chokes me. We’re almost out the door when the first few realize something is amiss, and then seconds later that breaks into panic. I’m torn between the desires to run back to the room and save them and to run back and massacre them. I cling tightly to my hard-earned self control and follow Carlisle and Esme as we are escorted from the castle.

One thought keeps me from breaking: Soon, I will be home.

A/n There we go! Sorry for the wait! I’m deciding between ending this story soon or dragging it out longer. I’ll make a decision soon but I’d love to hear your thoughts! Let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list. Don’t forget to donate to the Quileute tribe’s Move to Higher Ground Project! A quick Google will bring up the link. Remember, their tribe was appropriated, incorrectly portrayed, and commodified and they did not receive a cent. Let’s do what we can to lend a hand. 

xx, 

Bjr

Link to next part: https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/625767180394479616/the-long-way-around-chapter-16

Tag list: @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @one-thread-can-save-a-life @salsameter @enchantedcruelsummer @meashy-moo @sana-li @femflorals @80strashbag @tomisbaeholland @heyimval13 @triscuitcracker @deviantly-gayy @sleepywinnie847 @vexingcosmos @avalongrey 

[love-reverend-swanson]

A little trip

-

Pairing: Hosea Matthews & You/Reader

Rating: General audience

Tags: Cutness, fluff, romantic

-

Hosea and you are on your way to a deserted hut at O'Creagh's Run at Grizzlies East. Hosea found it once as Arthur and him tryed to hunted that beast of a Bear. It's Quiet a ride with your camp being located in Clements Point now. But Hosea don't seem to mind. You sit on his strong dapple grey czech warm blood horsebody. Your head leaning against his human shoulders. The stallion calmly gallops towards your destination. He enjoys taking trips with you. With you on his horseback. You feel honored. Cause Bessie and now you are the only ones who are allowed to ride on him. You, he would gladly carry everywhere you like. Others he would buck off like a wild horse. You and him are a couple since two months by now. And everybody in camp knows that.

They are happy that he finally is happy again and found love. After Bessie he was sad and alone. And now at his age, he feels like a worn out stallion who is settled down to live on a meadow for the rest of his life. Nobody wanted him anymore. Not only because he's a freaking centaur wich are normally extinct, but also due to his looking. His cheek bones standing out, thin and slender human body and Silver hair. But you still see the strength and the fighter in him. Just because he is 55 doesn't mean he's automatically getting weak. You can clearly feel the muscles in his chest, biceps and shoulders. And not to forget the muscles in his horsebody. It's damn strong too. You can feel it move strongly underneath you, with muscles flexing then and there from the movement. Sometimes when you ride on your horse and he gallops next to you, you can even see a few veins coming out then and there underneath his skin and soft fure. Hosea is still galopping slowly along the path's between the trees and bushes.

You are on your way for surely two hours by now. Hosea often switched between Gallop, Trott and a slow walk. But you can feel that he's slowly getting tired. Pants leave his mouth then and there from the running he do for the last thirdy minutes. In this time he only used the Gallop.

,,Take a break baby. I can feel you getting tired and me too." You whisper against his back.

,,You probably right dear." He gasp.

Then he slowed down into a trott, and after a short while into a slow walk. The only thing Hosea and you have with you is food. He wear black big saddlebags wich are fastened behind you on his horsebody. But you found a save spot between bushes. He lays down carefully on the soft grass between big bushes and trees. It should be save for tonight. You get down from his horsebody, and lay your head on his horse belly. Then you two fall asleep. You wake with the singing birds. Both of you slowly get up, and stretch yourself. Then Hosea help you up on his strong horseback again. He turn arround and Trott back on the path wich lead you two to your direction. It's still two hours to go. So he start to Gallop slowly right away.

Two hours later you are finally by the big hut. Inside there is a fireplace with a white fur carpet opposite of it, a big table with six chairs, three on each side and a big bed wich is even able to hold Hosea's heavy centaur weight. You get off of his back. Then you enter the hut. Hosea close and lock the door behind you two. The curtains are closed too. So that you have some privacy.

,,Can you help me dear?" He ask.

,,Of course cutie." You smile.

Then you open the strap from the saddlebags, and take them from his back. Then you give them to him.

,,Thanks darling." He smiles.

Then he turn around and bend down to place a soft kiss on your lips. You happily kiss back. After three kisses he turn arround again, to lay the saddlebags on the table and open them. He wear his gunbelt, and you your bow and arrows. He give you a bread roll and some sausage. You thank him. And he eats the same. While you sit down on a chair opposite of him, Hosea's horse ass sit down on the wooden floor. You love him so much.

,,We need to go hunting later dearest." He says before he take another bite of the sausage.

,,Indeed." You agree.

,,But let's realx for a while baby. Specially you. You did most of the work." You smile after a short silence.

,,Sure. No problem angel. I would take you anywhere you want." He smiles.

You blush.

,,Aww your cute. I love you." You smile.

Now he blush too.

,,I love you too dearest."

Then you eat the rest of your sausage and bread roll in silence. He's such a cute and lovely stallion. Abd always so sweet, tender and caring for people he love. You never understand how you got so lucky with such a beautiful, cute, tender and loving centaur like him. Yeah sure, at first it was weird to be together with him cause he's a centaur. But you got used to it, and it has many benefits. Like having a big pillow or a ride to someplace you want. At least with some centaurs. You really appreciate it and feel honored that Hosea trust you so much that he would take you anywhere you like. And that you can use his horsebody as a big soft pillow. Sometimes you cuddle with him instead of his horsebody. He and you love both. It don't matter. But sometimes both of you simply enjoy laying in each other's arms. Meanwhile you two are done eating. Hosea start a fire now. So both of you take off your thick coats and hang them up next to the door on a few hooks on the wall.

Then you sit down opposite the fireplace on the soft fur. Hosea lay down next to you. You lean to the left against his arm and close your eyes. It seems that you fell asleep, cause as you wake up, the fire is hardly burning and it cooled down in here. As you look up, you can see that Hosea's sleeping too. So cute. You once saw him on the breach back in camp once. There he fell asleep while standing. Just like a real horse. It looked cute too. But you still wonder how someone can fall asleep standing. You carefully get up, and throw something in the fire. Then you slowly to not wake him up, go next to him again, and lay down that your head rest on his horseback. But you only doze with closed eyes. After a while you hear Hosea's cute yawn. And you hear his shoulder joins crack while he stretch himself.

,,Awake baby?" You whisper.

,,Yea. We should go hunting. Shouldn't we?" He suggest.

,,Yes baby."

So you both get up. You stretch your body, and Hosea his horse half. Then you both put on your coat's. After that you grab your bow and arrows from the table. You both get outside. Hosea help you back on his horseback. Then you start searching. You find two beautiful big bucks. You immideatly shoot them. You managed to kill both immideatly without much pain for them. Hosea pick them up, and carry you back to the hut. You duck your head in the doorway. Hosea get out again to skin them and take the meet you can eat back inside. He has two big bowls of buck meat now. That should be enough for two days at least. You take the meet and grill it in the fireplace. It tastes delicious.

,,That was a real good hunt. It was delicious." Hosea smiles.

,,Defenetly."

Meanwhile it's late at night. Hosea opens the other saddlebag where both of you stored a few clothes. Hosea put on a simply black shirt and you a pair of black pants, black socks and a black shirt. Then both of you settle down for the night. Hosea lay completely on his back. And you lay next to him. Your head on his human chest, your head hidden in the crook of his neck. Both of you fall asleep immideatly. It was a beautiful day. Finally some privacy. And you have two hopefully beautiful days with Hosea ahead of you, before you must go back to camp.

[gotboredwrote]

Mini-Us // JFM

Pairing: Joseph Mazzello x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.3K Style: One-Shot Warnings: Pure unadulterated fluff, swearing Summary: Y/N and Joe are ready for the “Bohemian Rhapsody” premiere in every way but one – Y/N has no idea what to wear to such an important event in Joe’s life, and Joe has no idea until the morning of. Thankfully, John and Veronica (Tetzlaff) Deacon are there to rescue the situation. Permanent Author’s Note: To clarify, I write because I get bored. Nothing is meant to be professional in any way, nor is meant to offend, cause anxiety, cause anger, cause sadness, or promote disagreement among readers in any sort of (semi)permanent way. A/N: In case this isn’t obvious, these stories are completely fiction, so please, PLEASE take it with a grain of salt that I am saying Deaky was involved with the “Bohemian Rhapsody” shoot. For the sake of this little blurb, I would like to imagine our dude and his wife-dude were involved, at least at the premiere. It should also go without saying that we as Queen/Deaky fans completely respect his choice to stay in retirement and remain a legend. Also, me posting two days in a row is not going to become normal so haha sorry enjoy anyway!

Masterlist

~

All the nerves buzzing around the room were infectious and electric – everyone’s adrenaline was sky-high knowing that the world would soon be able to appreciate all the hard work the boys, the producers, the crew, and Queen themselves put in to make this project a reality. The amount of detail and fist-pump-worthy music that was crammed into the two-hour film was enough to keep even a child with the world-record for the shortest attention span focused and entertained. It was a crowning-achievement for all involved, and no one could change their minds on that, including critics. Everyone had gathered in the lobby of the hotel the morning of the premiere to have the events of the day spelled out to them, that way things went as smoothly as possible. Everyone was with their plus-one’s, talking excitedly about the night’s events. Small talk being made here and there by crew and cast members who did not really know each other well, but enthusiastic nonetheless. At one point, Lucy made her way over to you and started excitedly babbling about her gown for the evening, and you smiled and complemented her choices whenever she took a breather and you had a moment to respond. Once she finished talking, she asked you to do what she just did – and all you could respond with was an averted gaze and flushed cheeks. At first, Lucy initially took that to mean that you were wearing something scandalous and that would make Joe react the same way you just did, with a little less aversion and a little bit more gawking. However, the polar opposite was true. When you spoke your truth, she entered full on crisis-mode, which made everyone spin around to listen in to your conversation.

~

“What do you mean, you FORGOT?” She was not screaming at you because she was mad at you, she just genuinely could not comprehend the fact that you forgot an outfit to wear to the premiere.

“H-honestly, I really don’t know. I was packing stuff for myself and Joey and I even had a list, but I guess that never made it on the list. This is so unlike me! I mean, I even picked out a special pantsuit with dinosaurs all over it for the Jurassic World premiere, and Joey wasn’t even in that! Ugh, you can’t even understand how frustrated I am with myself right now!”

It was at this point that the whole aggregation of people who were in the lobby, including those that had nothing to do with the premiere, turned to look at the two jabbering ladies. The main cast and crew noticed there was some tension in the way words were said and the way bodies were standing, so they made their way over. Joe, breaking the silence from the peanut gallery, said “Everything alright, girls?”

“Yeah, Joey, we’re just-”

“NO! Things are NOT fine, Y/N, don’t lie to him!”

At this point everyone was looking at you guys like you were speaking a foreign language because you both were exclaiming something is wrong, but would not elaborate on what said thing was. Eventually the glare Lucy kept giving you, along with purely concerned faces from Joe, Rami, Ben, Gwil, Allen, Brian, Roger, John, and their wives, forced you to break your silence and explain just what was going on. “Well, you see, in-in my haste to get here in time for the premiere with everything Joe and I needed for the weekend, it somehow slipped my mind to pack a gown, or any kind of professional outfit for that matter, for-for the premiere tonight. I did bring some stilettos, but unless leggings and a cropped tee shirt are acceptable, I’m kind of shit out of luck. Y-yeah…” To your surprise, Lucy was the only one who was not calm. The boys of the cast and the band seemed pretty neutral about the whole thing, and the plus-one’s among the bunch did not seem to take any real interest in your problem at all. The only one who actually seemed to want to help you in some way was Veronica Deacon, the wife of the man Joey portrayed. She listened carefully to your explanation, sauntered over to John, and asked him a question with some seriously convincing puppy-dog eyes. John’s reaction was simply a smile that brought out the crinkles by the corners of his eyes, which preceded a small squeal from Veronica who then made her way over to you. At this point you were sitting with Joe, Lucy leaving a few minutes prior to latch onto Rami’s arm, on one of the lobby couches going over the options you had about squeezing in a shopping trip in between the other stuff you needed to get done today. You both her the clicking of her small, dark green heels, and looked up.

“Hi, darling. I couldn’t help but overhear what you were talking, er, rather enthusiastically discussing with Lucy. Have you figured out a solution yet?”

You sigh, eliciting an upper-arm rub from Joe. “No, I haven’t, and honestly I don’t know how I’m gonna fix this. I’m not a forgetful person, if anything, I over-prepare for everything. And I am not missing this premiere.”

“And you aren’t going to miss it, dear. I just spoke with my John and I think I have a solution for you. And I promise, I will not be offended if you decline.”

“I truly have no reason to decline, Mrs. Deacon, not after everything you and John have done for Joey and myself these past months. Whatever you want to suggest, I am all ears.”

“Alright, but there is one condition – Joseph; I would need you to stay here and be okay with letting Y/N ride with me to the premiere, and I’ll send John with you.”

Joe simply looked at you adoringly, yet with a tinge of melancholy, gave you a small peck on the lips and said “She’s all yours as long as I get to walk the red carpet with my best gal.”

~

The beginning of the day went off without a hitch on everyone’s end. Each pair or group of people ran their errands, stopped for bites to eat, and made their way back to the hotel around 2:30pm to get ready for the premiere. Veronica was sat patiently in the lobby, chatting with John about various things, such as their children and something to do with money, and waited to see you and Joe pop back through the front doors of the hotel. Within seconds of your figures gracing through the doorway, Veronica grabbed John and explained the circumstances of what was about to happen, and then quickly ushered you back up to their room, John and Joe falling behind but eventually catching up with you. Once in front of the Deacon’s door, Veronica ran inside, grabbed everything John needed, and practically threw it out in the hallway. Joe’s face was the definition of deer-in-the-headlights, which got even worse when John simply started walking away asking Joe to take him to yours and Joe’s room. Veronica ushered you inside her room before you could ask any questions, dragged you over to the large bed her and John were sharing, pushed you to sit down and grabbed your wrists excitedly.

“So! My plan!”

“Honestly, Mrs. Deacon, you were starting to scare me a little bit. I think Joe is also pretty mortified right now,” ending your sentence with a lighthearted laugh.

“I sincerely hope you know that wasn’t or isn’t my intention, sweetheart. I just got so excited when John agreed to my idea for you that it kept bubbling up like a fizzy drink! Oh, also sweetie, please call me Ronnie. There is no need for formalities at this point.”

You continued to sit in front of Veronica, genuinely confused as to what was currently going on, but enjoying every second spent with her. You could see why John considered her his best friend.

“Since you’ve been on set quite a bit, I am sure you were aware that anything the boys had that fit the ones portraying them were loaned over for the duration of the film, so at least some of the costumes were accurate, right?” You nodded, but not following where she was going with this train of thought.

“Well, when the writers addressed that bit to them, they also turned to the wives and said that there would be a couple girls for two or three scenes that would be portraying us! Imagine that! So, they asked us if we could do the same! You know, bring some of the clothes we wore back in the late seventies, early eighties to see if they would fit those girls!”

You continued to nod, starting to get an inkling of an idea of where she was headed with her words.

“I actually still have those clothes with me! I didn’t keep a lot of them, my body changing after having six kids, as you can imagine. Which I am not complaining about! My children are my greatest accomplishment! But it’s common knowledge that the body changes with age and extreme conditions, and I would say bearing children is one of said conditions, wouldn’t you agree? Any who, I am going on a severe tangent, dear. My point is that you are a similar size to what I was back in those days, and I cannot help but wonder if something that I have would be worthy of trying on! I know that some of the patterns are a bit, how would you say, dated? But I have a couple things that are solid that just might do the trick. Would you like to see for yourself?

By the time she was finished explaining her idea, there were tears of gratitude spilling out of your eyes that you simply could not control. Now it was Veronica’s turn to be scared of you because she genuinely thought she said something that made you this upset. All you could do before words would form was grab her hands and hold them to your chest so she could feel the rapid beating of your heart. Eventually, the words you wanted to say braved the world, and you were able to choke out a thank you.

“I ser-seriously don’t think you *hic* understand h-how much this means to me, Mrs.- Mrs. Deacon. Ronnie. Wh-whatever. I was already eternally in your debt f-for everything else, but now it’s e-eternity plus one.”

The laugh of relief that escaped her throat at your words was enough to make you laugh just as hard, and at that point the plan had gone into full effect. Her room became a walk-in closet itself, and all that was left to do was find something that fit, text John to bring your heels up so Joe would not see you in advance. You glanced down at your hands, which had been trembling slightly ever since Veronica let them go, and immediately calmed down at the sight of your perfect-for-you engagement ring. This plan of Veronica’s was actually really good preparation for the wedding that would be in one year’s time.

~

It was 4:30, and it was time for everyone to get in their respective cars to head over to the premiere. Joe and John were forced to head out before Y/N and Veronica so they would not see you in advance of stepping onto the carpet, which worked smoothly. Eventually the cars all made their way to the venue, and everyone had made it to the premiere except for you, Veronica, Lucy, and Rami. John noticed your car pull up in front of the start of the carpet and tugged Joe’s sleeve to get his attention focused on the most important thing. The car came to a gentle stop, the driver hopped out, came around, and opened your door. Joe held his breath because he had no idea what was happening, and he was honestly slightly worried that something was wrong. But all that worry went away when he saw you stiletto-clad foot plant onto the carpet, a stark black against a bright red carpet. He was able to take in each element of your presence slowly and meticulously as you stepped out of the car, seemingly in slow motion. First, he noticed your shoes, which he had seen before, but for some reason looked different with all the anticipation. They were three-inch stilettos that had crisscrossed laces from the start of your toes, up the top of your foot, coming to a stop as a thicker band at the start of your ankle. The bottom of the shoe was no more than half an inch thick, which made him wonder just how the hell you walked in those without falling flat on your face. Then he noticed the finite amount of jewelry you were wearing. Nothing overly fancy, just the emerald-leaf promise ring on your right-ring finger, your engagement ring on your left-ring finger, and the gold-diamond tennis bracelet that hung semi-loosely on your left wrist he had bought you for your anniversary gift to go with the engagement. No other jewelry, and he could not help but think that it was just the right amount for you, considering you did not consider yourself a flashy person. Before he looked at your dress, his eyes made their way to your head, where he noticed your signature lack of makeup – again, not a flashy person, and your hairdo. A simple far-reaching side part, with the lesser volume side tucked behind your ear, and the more voluminous side bouncing gently with each step you took, your natural Y/H/C shining in the afternoon sun. Finally, he looked at the dress you were wearing, finally realizing what Veronica’s plan was all along. By today’s standards, the dress was not “in,” but boy, did you make it work. It was a full-length, thin, flowy light-blue denim dress that stopped right at the top of your feet, which he had to admit he had never seen before. There were no slits on either side, which was different from the normal gowns you wore to events. The dress hugged your curves just to the point where you could tell where Veronica was smaller than you, but not by much. Hip accentuated somewhat, but nothing provocative, the same happening at your waist, and the top laying just right on you. The dress was completely off the shoulder, top of the dress coming all the way down to the halfway point of your upper arms, hugging you just enough to stay in place but not be squeezing your arm enough to leave pesky lines. The simple denim was accentuated by a snow-white border of lace across the top all the way around, with the same pattern around the entire bottom of the skirt, as well as complimenting the ends of the flowy sleeves that went right past your elbows. It was… simply stunning. Gracefully you made you way over to Joe, who had not said anything to anyone since your car arrived, including you. You knew it should not have made you concerned, but it did. Especially considering you were now on your own, as Veronica had sauntered to John, peppering him with kisses after not having seen him all day and asking him if she did a good job. He seemed to think so, as he was staring at you both with a look that Veronica could not pin point. Once you were planted in front of Joe, nervously awaiting his response, you started to panic, thinking he thought you looked terrible. In an effort to get him to say SOMETHING, you spun around on your heels, prompting the skirt of Veronica’s dress to spin lightly in their air, revealing your bare legs underneath. After Joe had still not said a word and was still gawking at you, you finally broke your silence with a question.

“Are you not happy with how I look? I actually thought this dress was beautiful and was so excited that it fit and matched the heels. I’m really sorry you don’t like it, Joey. I didn’t want to ruin your night.”

“…are you actually being serious with what you just said?”

“I mean, you aren’t saying anything, so I thought maybe you-you hated this…”

“Y/N, I truly do not think I have ever seen you wear a dress that matched you as well as it does and looked as miraculously stunning as it does. I mean, you always look good in everything that you wear, and you know that I prefer you when you’re as comfortable as you want to be. But, like, I-I’m honestly stunned. You look absolutely ravishing, babe, I- wow. I feel like I’m drooling, am I drooling?”

Joe always knew how to make you a giggling mess, but you appreciated his comments nonetheless. You gave him a swift and passionate kiss that ended with you both grinning ear to ear on each other’s lips. You then wrapped your arms loosely around his waist, and his around yours, his head resting on yours, peppering kisses to your hair while you turned and mouthed a “thank you, Ronnie” in hers and John’s general direction. They both simply smiled and you could not help but notice that Veronica has some of the same eye crinkles that John has, and it made your heart flutter. Joe eventually pulled you away to hold your hand and escort you over to the carpet where the rest of the main cast was about to make their grand entrance, and Joe did not want you to leave his side the whole walk. The members of Queen and their wives followed suit behind them. Throughout the walk on the carpet, you kept your mind occupied with thoughts about Veronica and John’s relationship. It fascinated you. Despite everything they went through in their personal lives dealing with the grandiosity of Queen, they still managed to have a simple, loving, domestic life that was still as passionate, full of care, and days where they still seem to be wearing honeymoon-tinted glasses. Their relationship started in a slightly similar manner, wherein John was in the middle of the start of a long-fledged career that was going to bring temptations. But no matter what, he remained faithful to his best friend. You glanced down at the ring on your left hand again, then looking at Joe with doe-eyes, who, despite being preoccupied with about one hundred cameras pointed his way, still managed to glance your way. He gave you a sweet smile that basically confirmed the question that was swimming around your mind in the back of the Deacon thoughts: will Joe and I be like them? And with that simple look, you knew that the answer was a solid yes. Meanwhile, a little further behind you and the cast, Veronica and John were actually having a conversation similar to what was going on in your head.

“Ronnie, honey. I can’t help but notice something about Joe and his fiancé.”

“What’s that deary?”

“With Y/N wearing your dress, and Joe in that particular suit, I can’t help but realize that they are ironically similar to us, both in their actual personalities and their looks. Like from back in the day. I have to make it a point to ask Joe that I would be honored if their first dance as a married couple was to ‘You’re My Best Friend.’ They embody that song more than any couple I have ever met, and I mean, it just seems appropriate, y’know?”

“I couldn’t agree more, Johnny.”

[tessimagines]

What Have We Done (George Weasley x Reader) - Part Six

Summary: After nearly having his father become another casualty of the fast approaching war, George decides he needs to get something off his chest.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Warnings: A N G S T

Wordcount: 2.6k

A/N: This chapter follows the plot of the book, so instead of everyone visiting Arthur at 12 Grimmauld Place, they go to St Mungo's hospital like in the Order of the Pheonix.

December 25th, 1995

He was so, so quiet.

It almost felt unnatural to stand next to George and not hear him speak. You could hardly bear it anymore, each moment where you were cuddled up next to each other without having him muttering something in your ear was like hell. His mind always seemed to be on his father, or the oncoming and fast approaching war. He would sneak into your room at 12 Grimmauld Place each night, once he knew he was out of the clear, and crawl into your bed without even muttering a word. His arms would tightly wrap around you before he drifted off in the only spot that he seemed able.

It was so easy to tell that his mind was so far away each time you looked at him. He’d stare out into the distance, a vague expression on his face. You could only get him to stop when you’d place a hand on his wrist, bringing his eyes to yours. A small and soft smile would grace his lips before he’d place a kiss to your temple without even speaking a word.

Even now, as you held his hand and made your way up to the St Mungos entrance, you could tell that his thoughts weren’t on the present. Every now and again his hand would tighten for a second around yours before loosening his grip.

You wanted your happy and ridiculous George back, not this one who was always contemplating something he wasn’t willing to tell you. That was what hurt you most, you supposed. The fact that he felt he couldn’t let you know what was troubling him. Of course, you had your ideas. But it wasn’t the same as him opening up to you out of complete trust in one another.

“George?” You said, placing your other hand his arm, his worn out grey coat just under your fingers. “You alright?”

“Oh.” His thoughts were momentarily pulled from his attention. “Oh, yeah. I’m fine.”

“You sure?” You tried to prompt. “You’ve just been out of it lately, you know? Like you’re away with the fairies.”

“I’m all good, (Y/N).” A smile toyed on his lips as he leaned across and placed a kiss on your temple. You could tell it was only there to try and reassure you. “Don’t worry.”

You nodded and watched as his attention drifted away once again. Fred was walking just ahead, Ginny to his right. Fred was quiet, but not near as quiet as George was. He was actually able to hold a conversation before he got caught up in his own head, only throwing in a few meaningless words here and there. George hadn’t even told Fred what was going on, something that took the both of you by surprise.

Molly was trudging along in front of the group, quickly making her way past the front desk. All of you followed her up the stairs and into Arthur’s ward. On Christmas, the entire place was busy with other visitors, each person wanting to see their loved ones. You could see the door of Arthur’s room just ahead, creeping closer and closer. When Molly reached, she practically threw herself around it and inside the room, on edge to get to Arthur as quick as she could.

Molly looked like she hadn’t slept in an entire year. There were large and dark bags under her eyes, but somehow, it seemed like her constant worry for her husband was the only thing keeping her upright during the day. But you knew that Arthur wasn’t the only one she was worried about. The attack had made the war seem so much more real and fast-approaching for everyone, and you knew that she would have all of her kid’s safety on her mind, as well as their best friends. Molly had a firm yet loving nature which extended well beyond her family’s wall, and right now, that was what was wearing her down.

“Arthur,” You heard Molly say, her face blanched as she adjusted her husband’s pillows.

Arthur looked terrible. His eyelids could hardly open, and you could see the scabs where the snake has bitten him. His skin was a greyish colour, rid of all the colour it usually held. His hair, though still it’s normal red, was dull and lifeless. He was still trying his best to raise his arms to wave away Molly’s worried actions.

“I’m fine, Molly dear,” Arthur rasped. “Take a seat, you look terrible.”

Fred let out a huff. “Coming from you, Dad?”

Arthur didn’t respond and instead looked around the room. “Where’s Ron? And Ginny?”

At his words, Molly looked around too. Somewhere along the line, Ron, Ginny, Harry and Hermione had been lost. It was probably a good thing though, there was already hardly enough room in the tiny hospital room with the people already in it.

“Did Percy come?” Arthur managed to get out as he turned his head to face Molly. When Molly heard the words, her face fell. There had been no word from Percy about Arthur’s attack at all.

“No, Arthur.” Molly said, grabbing his hand. You could tell that she was trying not to let her voice become strained. “He didn’t come.”

Your throat tightened at the exchange. You pulled yourself closer to George, wrapping your arms tighter around his.  Arthur turned his head so that he was facing his children present.

“Ah, (Y/N),” He said in a raspy and tired voice. “How are your parents?”

You smiled. Even through all of this, he was still asking questions about your muggle family. “They’re good,” you answered. “Dad just bought a new car.”

“Did he really?” Arthur looked genuinely interested. “Cars are just fascinating, aren’t they?”

“Oh, before I forget!” You quickly stated, reaching into your bag and pulling out a little colourful cube. “I got this for you.”

You handed the cube to Arthur, all of the colours of the Rubik’s cube in a jumbled up order. His face lit up as much as it could instantly. “This is one of those Roopick cubes, Molly! Remember the ones I was telling you about?”

Arthur turned the cube over in his hand, a smile as large as he could manage on his face. He looked back up at you, beaming. “Thanks, (Y/N) dear.”

“Not a problem, Mr Weasley.” You smiled back down at him. “Do you know how to use it?”

“Yes, I’ve heard all about them,” Arthur said, matter-of-factly. He’d already started to fiddle it with his weak fingers, trying to get the colours to match up.

Arthur looked up at George who was smiling at the cute exchange. His father absolutely adored (Y/N), that much was obvious to anyone.

“You keep her around, George,” Arthur said, causing a flush of red to enter your cheeks. “She’s a special one, that one.”

Agreed, Dad.” George said, his eyes shifting to look down at you. “Agreed.”

George leaned across and placed a kiss to the side of your forehead, closing his eyes.

The trip back home was just as quiet and uneventful as the one there. George was still quiet and looking into the distance, his face only changing when a thought went through his head. Sometimes his face looked happy, others were distressed. You couldn’t help but get a worried feeling in your stomach whenever you glanced across and saw a look of anguish on his face.

Grimmauld place was quiet when you entered. It had been completely cleaned out last summer, but somehow, it still held a damp smell. You hadn’t gone home to see your parents this Christmas break, fearing that George might need you there the whole time. You were too scared to go home anyway. With the war fast approaching, you were scared that they would get hurt if they found a muggleborn like yourself hidden away in a normal, non-magic home.

“(Y/N),” George said quietly in your ear before nodding at you to follow him.

George slipped his hand into your own and began to lead you up the many flights of stairs. Something, somehow, had broken his thoughts and he was now looking at you as you placed one step in front of the other. His brown eyes looked bigger than they usually did, but somehow, he looked like he was nervous as he opened the door to his bedroom and shut it behind the two of you.

“What is it?” you asked him, taking a seat on his bed.

George didn’t speak for a second and began to do little paces around the room. He had one hand in the pocket of his jeans and another rubbing the hair on the back of his head. Whatever he wanted to say, he was anxious to say it which caused your own heart to speed up in its beats.

“I, um.” George was struggling to find the words that he wanted. “(Y/N)… Dad’s attack got me thinking. This war that’s coming, it’s coming quickly. We don’t know what’s going to happen. For all we know, we might die fighting, and I just can’t bear to go through that without knowing that… And look, I know Mum will kill us and that we’re young but, I love you, (Y/N). If there is one thing I know, it’s that I love you.”

“George, I don’t know what you’re asking.” George was looking straight into your (e/c) eyes. He stopped pacing and took a seat next to you on his bed, picking up your hands and holding them in his own.

“(Y/N), I want you to marry me.” He said it so matter-of-factly that you almost felt your heart stop beating. He was looking at you with such veracity in his eyes that you had a hard time looking at him. “Because… Because I know that no matter how long I live – no matter how long or short, you are the person I want to introduce as my wife. Even if I live to be a hundred years old, it’s your face I want to see when I wake up.”

Your thoughts were racing around in circles in your head. You could picture the look of shock on your face as you looked up at him. George was practically sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for you to respond.

“George…” You said. “We’re only seventeen. And, and we’ve only been dating a few months…”

“Have we though?” George said, his hands gripping yours tightly. “Think about it, (Y/N). Think about our entire life spent at Hogwarts. You’ve said it yourself, we’ve practically been in a relationship since our third year. And I know we’re young, but I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”

“George, you’re mum will kill us.” If Molly found out that you and George were planning on getting married at the ripe-old age of seventeen, there was no doubt in your mind that she would be furious with the both of you.

“That doesn’t matter. Mum and Dad were about the same age when they got married. Look, (Y/N), the whole family loves you. Dad’s attack made me think. What if something like that happened to one of us? What if one of us didn’t make it out alive? This war, (Y/N), it’s coming so quickly and they only way we can win is if we give it our best shot and fight. But I need to be able to call you my wife before that happens. Please, (Y/N). I love you.”

“I love you too, George.” You said, raising your eyes from his hands to look into his warm brown ones. “I love you so, so much.”

“So will you do it then?” George asked, raising his hand to place it on the side of your face. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes, George. I’ll marry you.”

As soon as the words were out, the largest and most pure smile quickly spread across George’s lips. His lips were on yours in an instant, kissing you so passionately that your heart began to beat louder and louder in your chest. Your hands moved up to his shoulders, wrapping around them tightly. George pushed your body down onto the bed and continued to kiss you.

Each moment only grew with more and more passion, each movement soaked and dripping with devotion to one another. You would have had him on that bed right there if it weren’t for the sound of both of your names being called from the kitchen.

“George! (Y/N)!” Molly Weasley’s voice called. “Dinner’s ready!”

“That’s just about right, isn’t it?” George asked you, taking his lips off yours. They were swollen and red, Molly was bound to know that a heated moment had passed. A smile still played there as he looked down at you. You could only smile back up at him.

“Come on, we better head down there.” You grabbed his hand, leading him out of the room and down the long flight of stairs. Molly was still calling the names of different people, ushering them down into the dining room.

Your mind was only able to focus on a single thought as you lead George down what seemed like an infinitely long set of stairs.

You had just agreed to marry George Weasley.

George sat across from (Y/N) at the dining room table at 12 Grimmauld Place, his hardly touched food in front of him. She was leaning in close to his sister Ginny, saying something that made Ginny snort with laughter. The light was gleaming in her bright (E/C) eyes and the largest smile sitting on her lips.

It was hard to think back to the moment where he had first realised he loved her. All of those memories morphed together into one large one. It was too long ago and he was far too young to remember what she had been doing to make him realise. But George knew, somehow or another, that wide smile like the one on her lips now had something to do with it.

Every time he saw it, it was like falling in love with her all over again. It caused a lightness to bloom in his chest, sending a tingling sensation through every nerve in his body. The simple sight could cause goose bumps to rise up on his arms, whether the smile was directed to him or not.

George just couldn’t get enough of the girl sitting in front of him right now. And like his father had told him, he was going to do anything to keep this girl around.

George reached his leg out and nudged it against hers, causing her head to turn to look at him. That smile was still on her lips and only widened when she saw him looking at her. She was fiddling with the fork in her hand as she smiled at him, the sight pulling hard on George’s heartstrings.

“George,” he heard his mother say. “You’re looking a bit happier today. You’ve been looking a bit sad lately. I was getting a bit worried.”

George looked over to her, a smile still on his lips. “Yeah, I’m a lot happier.”

He turned his attention back to the girl sitting in front of him. She raised her eyebrow at him, before touching her leg against his.

Merlin, he loved her. And now, he was going to make her his wife.

There you go! Were any of you guys expecting that? Tell me what you thought of the chapter down below!

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[padfootagain]

Sunlight And Flashes

Part 1 : Surprises

This was requested a few days ago : 'I was wondering if you could do one where Ben and reader went on vacation together in Italy or France or somewhere romantic like that? Perhaps where they at some point are spotted by paparazzi's. I wouldn't mind it being a little series, but whatever you have time for is completely fine!'

So here we go! I hope you like it, dear anon. I can turn this into a series but a short one (probably two parts, that's all), not because I don't have time to write (I'm not back at University yet, so it's fine) but because it is what my ideas will probably require. And if I often get carried away, I'm not the kind of writer who just writes over nothing, and I like getting to the point, so it should be quite short.

Hope you don't mind and that you will not be disappointed, dear anon. Thank you so much for your request.

The first part is mainly fluff and romantic things and troubles are coming in the second part. Because you asked that they would go somewhere romantic, so I had to write cute things. You'll be warned, lots of fluff here ;)

Pairing: Ben Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 3025

When you entered your flat and smelled the scent of pastas, you knew Ben had prepared something special for tonight. You breathed deeply the scent of tomato and basil, throwing your bag away.

You were on holiday, and it felt like heaven.

Ben had insisted on you taking two weeks of holiday before he would have to fly to Toronto where he would be filming for several months. And as your anniversary was right in the middle of these two weeks, you couldn't refuse. You smiled at the thought that it had been almost two years now since this night when he had finally stopped acting like you were just friends and had finally told you he loved you. You had been through so many things together in just two years...

Anyway, you were on holiday. And so now you were ready to sleep non-stop for two weeks... or well, enjoy sleeping whenever Ben would let you rest...

You walked into the living room, humming to the jazzy music Ben had turned on. You grinned at the sight of candles set all over the room. You walked to your side of the table, and you picked up the bouquet of roses that rested before your plate. You lifted the red flowers up to you face, breathing deeply their scent.

You felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist, and you grinned as Ben was dropping a sweet kiss on your neck.

"Hey, love," he breathed against your skin. "Surprise!"

"Thank you."

You turned around, flinging your arms around his neck and kissing his lips, making him chuckle.

"Sit down, the pastas are almost ready," he said.

"You cooked pastas?" you asked, brushing your nose against his.

"Hmmm," he nodded.

"I love your pastas," you smiled.

"I know you do. Come on sit down, I'll be right back."

You smiled, and sat down as instructed.

"Thank you for the flowers," you said, turning on your chair to look at him as he cooked.

He merely smiled in response.

"How was your day?" he asked, before plunging a spoon into the food he was preparing, tasting the sauce.

He frowned slightly, and added more pepper.

"We don't talk about work for the next couple of weeks!" you decided. "It's holidays."

He smiled, nodding, and soon he was by your side, taking away the flowers and bringing a bottle of wine.

"Prepare the wine, would you," he said, walking back to the kitchen.

"Don't tell me you're planning on getting drunk," you teased him as you opened the bottle and poured you and Ben some red wine.

When he came back from the kitchen with the pastas and he filled up your plate with his marvelous food, you immediately picked up your fork and ate a mouthful.

You couldn't refrain a moan.

"I love you, Ben," you breathed, swallowing the pastas.

He merely laughed, sitting across from you.

"So the mystery is finally solved. All I have to do to please you is cook pastas more often."

You nodded, eating again, and Ben laughed, starting to eat as well.

But you could see that there was something that he was holding back. Something he wasn't telling you. So you reached for his hand across the table.

"Sweetheart?" you said softly. "Is everything okay?"

"Of course," he smiled.

"You seem... like you want to talk to me about something but you don't dare to."

"Actually you're right," he nodded, putting down his fork.

He stroked softly the back of your hand with his thumb, and you felt shivers run up your spine.

"In just one week it's our second anniversary," he said softly.

You nodded.

"Two years that we are together," you said, a dreamy smile on your face.

He nodded as well.

"So... I've prepared a little something. Actually a huge something."

"Really?" you asked, your smile widening.

But as he opened his mouth to speak again, your phone rang.

"No battery, sorry," you winced sheepishly, before rising from your seat and heading for the bedroom.

And as Ben finally realized that you were heading there, he hurried towards you.

"No!"

But he was too late. You had already opened the door...

To discover bags and suitcases, all packed up...

"Ben?" you asked, and your voice was shaking as you recognised his suitcase, and his bag. "What's going on?"

He took your face in his hands.

"That was the surprise, but it looks like you've discovered it too soon."

"What...?"

But suddenly you spotted your suitcase as well.

You looked up at him, a smile slowly curling up your lips.

"Are we going somewhere?" you asked softly.

He nodded.

"We are," he grinned.

"Where are we going?"

He took an envelope out of his pocket, and handed it to you.

"Happy Anniversary... a bit in advance, but I'm pretty sure you'll forgive me."

You opened your gift, and your eyes widened as you read the destination written on the plane tickets.

"We... we're going to Roma?" you breathed, grinning, looking up at him again.

He nodded.

"Actually, we're going to Roma for six days," he said, picking up a little map of the country where you would spend your next two weeks. "Then we're heading for Firenze for three days. And then two days in Napoli and finally, two more in Venice."

You grinned, feeling tears blurring your vision.

You had always dreamt to travel to these cities...

"So?" he asked with a proud smirk. "What do you think? Good surprise?"

"You're crazy," you answered, laughing.

You wrapped your arms around him, pressing your face against his shoulder.

"Thank you," you whispered. "I love you, Ben. I love you so much."

He smiled, kissing the top of your head.

"I love you too, Y/N."

You looked at the suitcases again, still safely trapped into Ben's arms.

And you felt so lucky to have him by your side...

Ben was very good at many things. He was very talented in his work, he cooked very well, he could sing like sin... And he was an absolute angel to you, always kind, always caring, always loving. He was a real teddy bear, and you loved him with all your heart.

But give him a map and you could be sure that he would get you lost.

And of course you knew it. After two years of relationship you knew he struggled to find his way through a map, especially when it was in a city.

But he had seemed so enthusiastic when you had walked out of the Colosseum... he was like a little child. Excited, happy, a grin crossing his face. So you hadn't protested when he had picked up the map of Roma, trying to find his way through the city.  

But you were back before the Colosseum for the third time and you were starting to get annoyed.

"Love, I can find my way around..." he protested when you tore the map from his hands.

"No, sweetheart, you can't," you replied.

He pouted, making you smile, and you dropped a sweet kiss on his lips.

"But I love you anyway," you reassured him.

"I hope so!"

"So... we went to the Roman Forum."

"Yep."

"And the Colosseum, obviously," you added, pointing at the monument next to you." And we have seen the Arch of Constantine... three times thanks to you and your sense of directions."

He playfully stuck his tongue out, a smile on his face.

"And where do you want to go now?" you asked him.

"I reckon we should try to walk up to the Capitoline Hill and continue to the Piazza de... something."

"Piazza de Campidoglio," you said, chuckling, pointing at the map to show him the name.

"Yeah... that's it."

"Then we need to go back towards the Roman Forum."

"Which is in...?"

"This direction," you answered, laughing, pointing towards the main street.

"Right."

You exchanged a smile, and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him, dropping a peck upon your head.

"So... what do you think of these holidays so far?" he asked, a smirk on his face.

Because after all he knew you were enjoying yourself a big time.

"Not bad," you teased him.

"'Not bad'? All this work for a 'not bad'?" he asked faking shock.

You laughed.

"Okay... I have to admit that this trip is awesome," you admitted, and his face lightened up with one of his shining grins that made your heart skip a beat every time.

He chuckled, kissing your forehead.

"Is that enough to make you sign up for two more years?" he asked.

"Sign up for two more years with you as my boyfriend you mean?" you teased him. "I don't know. It means a lot... I think you'll have some more convincing to do. After all, it's only our fourth day here."

"Yes... but in four days we've visited most of Roma, and I know it was one of your big dreams."

You nodded slowly.

"And we have eaten the best pastas and pizzas in the world. Far more better than mine, by the way," Ben went on, counting on his fingers. "And I'm a bit upset with that because maybe now you'll stop loving my pastas."

You laughed.

"I'll always love your pastas, sweetheart," you replied, kissing his neck.

"And I reckon we did lots of romantic things at night and in the morning and..."

You covered his mouth, laughing.

"No need to remind me of this kind of activities," you laughed.

"So... I have to admit that it makes lots of good reasons to sign up for two more years with me, don't you think?"

You rested your head against his shoulder.

"What if I want more than two years?" you said softly.

He stopped walking, looking down at you, a grin on his face.

"I guess we could make another contract, without limited duration," he proposed.

"That would be much better," you nodded.

"I agree," he smiled, before leaning down to drop a loving kiss on your lips that let you both breathless...

The day was warm and the sun was shining bright above you. So Ben bought you both ice creams, and you resumed your walk towards the Capitoline Hill. You walked the flat stairs that led to the main square and you took lots of pictures of Ben doing silly faces as you both marveled at the old buildings and the patterns on the ground.

"It says here that it was designed by Michelangelo," Ben said, reading his guide of Roma.

"It's beautiful," you nodded.

He took your hand in his, and he pulled you closer to him.

"Not as much as you," he smiled, before pressing his ice cream against your nose, making you shriek in surprise.

He laughed while you cleaned up your face.

"You'll pay for that, you know you will," you laughed.

"I'm ready to face your wrath, it was worth it," he replied, laughing as well.

"I'll save my vengeance for later. A moment when you don't expect it."

He merely gave you a peck on the lips in response.

"So..." Ben said, taking a look at his watch. "We've been much faster than I thought we would be, it's only 3 pm. We still have time to go somewhere else. Where do you want to go?"

"We should try to walk back to the Pantheon," you said, looking at the map. "And then we can even maybe go back to the Trevi Fountain."

He nodded.

"Sounds good to me."

And so you walked through the streets of Roma again, holding hands, and laughing at his silly jokes, and not getting lost as this time you insisted on taking care of the map.

You had already been to the Pantheon the day before, but you loved it so much... You insisted on entering inside the building again. As you walked under the ancient roof to enter the church, it felt almost like it would fall upon your head. You touched the old columns partially consumed by time, before finally entering the building itself. And of course it was full of people, but you didn't care. You merely marveled at the round ceiling, and the many sculpted columns. You longed to trail your fingers upon the stone of the walls and pillars, that was of a strange shade, somewhere between orange and pink and you wondered with which material they were made of. But you couldn't touch them, so you merely stared at them for a while. You looked at your feet as you crossed the room, walking upon the marble floor.

And all the while, Ben was holding your hand, a dreamy smile on his face. But you knew his smile was for you, not for the ancient stones...

Eventually, you accepted to walk back to the fountain, and saying that there was a crowd there would be a euphemism. But you didn't mind. For all the years you had imagined walking there, you had never thought it could be that large. It was gigantic. It was absolutely beautiful, and beyond all your expectations. And even if you had seen it the day before, you still marveled before the richly carved white statues. It was a whole wall decorated with incredible symbols.

And again, you were left speechless.

You let Ben guide you closer to the fountain, and you managed to get just on the edge of the fountain, which you hadn't been able to do the previous day.

"We couldn't leave Roma without doing this," Ben smiled, giving you a coin.

He turned his back to the fountain, and you imitated him.

"Make a wish," you smiled.

He kissed your cheek.

"You already know my wish," he answered, a dreamy smile on his face.

"I think we have the same then," you smiled.

You both closed your eyes, and threw the coin over your shoulder and into the clear water, laughing.

You seized the occasion of being closer to take a better look at the statues. You nodded towards the statues of horses at the center, noticing what looked like wings... or fins...

"Do you think they're supposed to be horses?" you asked Ben.

"No, I think they are seahorses," he said, searching in his guide of Roma.

"Can you read what's written up there?" you asked, pointing at the writing under the papal coats of arms.

He looked up, narrowing his eyes.

"It's latin I think," he said. "I have no idea what it means."

"'Anno Domini MDCCXXXV', that's the date of the creation of the fountain, right?" you asked.

"I have no idea," Ben shrugged.

"You should..."

He looked intensely at you.

"Because I may let you decide where to go next if you find out what it means."

"You want to challenge me?" he asked, a mischievous smile on his face.

You nodded, and Ben picked up his phone.

"Okay so..." he said. "'M' means 1000, 'D' means 500, 'C' means 100, 'X' is for 10, 'V' stands for 5 and finally 'I' for 1. And apparently there are some more complicated rules, but we'll just go with that."

"So it means 1735," you said.

"Most definitely a date."

You smiled, giving him the map.

"So what now?"

He grinned, taking the map and searching for a new destination.

But he felt a strange sensation as if... as if someone was looking at him. As if someone was staring.

He hoped no one had recognized him. Not that he didn't like talking with his fans, but he had hoped to spend two weeks with you, just you.

He searched throughout the crowd for the person who was staring at him.

And he froze as he spotted the right man.

Because he wasn't just staring at him, he was taking pictures, with a very expensive camera, clearly.

Ben clenched his jaw. He hadn't planned on having to deal with a paparazzi.

"You know what... I'm a bit tired, why don't we go back to the hotel?" he proposed, looking down at you again.

"Oh... okay," you nodded.

But he could see how disappointed you were.

"We can walk to the Piazza Navona if you want," he said, and your face immediately brightened. "And then we go back to the hotel. Would that be alright?"

You nodded enthusiastically, and you both walked away from the fountain, taking a narrow street nearby.

You were surprised by how fast he was walking...

"Ben? Why are you hurrying so much?" you called, and you took his hand to force him to slow down.

"Nothing," he replied.

But you knew he was lying.

"Love..." you replied, your voice full of warnings.

"I'll tell you later, let's go now," he answered elusively.

You followed him through the street, before taking the lead, making sure not to get lost. You finally reached the piazza, and you walked closer to the Egyptian obelisk. You sat down on a bench nearby and looked at the white church right behind the obelisk, your eyes lingering upon the dark lines that surrounded the higher pillars. You took Ben's hand again.

He was looking over his shoulder, as if he was afraid to be followed.

"What's wrong?" you asked.

He heaved a relieved sigh.

"I thought I saw a paparazzi at the fountain, but he didn't follow us. Must be my imagination playing tricks on me..."

He immediately relaxed, and looked around the piazza, watching the orange and yellow and white old buildings.

"It feels like being in an old movie," he said, smiling. "It's hard to think it's all real."

You nodded, resting your head on his shoulder.

"Maybe we should come and live here," you said.

He laughed.

"A constant roman holiday?" he asked.

"Why not? You could get better at cooking pastas."

He rolled his eyes.

"Here, I've lost my major argument to conquer your heart," he joked.

You kissed his shoulder through the fabric of his black T-shirt.

"You don't need to conquer it anymore," you whispered.

And as he tightened his hold on your hand, you knew he was grinning.

[hellomissmabel]

Bye Bye Brooklyn Boys (12) - version 2

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Warnings: A tad of angst? Mentions of sexual activity.

Word count: 2.602

Summary: Memories

Inspired by “This is the first thing” by my favourite band You Me At Six. I still cannot believe I actually got to meet them!

September, October, November , December,

January , February, March,  April

May, June, July

August (1)

Come a little closer As the night gets older Of you I grow fonder Just let my hands wander

Dean slowly pulls out of me, his sweat-slicked body creating a shy glow as he’s trailing feverish open-mouthed kisses along my jawline and down to my collarbone.

“Birthday sex is the best kind of sex,” you sigh against his lips, tilting his chin so he’s just out of reach before he continues his quest down the valley of your breasts and your bare torso.

“I’m going to miss you babe,” he purrs a little, the warmth of his body heightened due to your extraneous activities.

“Then don’t go on that hunting trip with your brother,” you hum as his teeth graze lightly over your perky nipples, extracting a low moan from the back of your throat, Dean’s dick twitching underneath the sheets.

Pushing Dean aside, I make my way towards the bathroom to clean myself up a little first before going for a possible round two. I call out his name, coaxing him out of the bed as well so can get himself a new pair of boxers but as soon as I peek around the corner, his sleeping and snoring form is adorable wrapped around our pillows. Finishing up and perfecting my bedhead, I climb in the bed next to him. A small smile plays on his lips and I inhale deeply, his worn-off cologne lingering still on my entire body.

I let out a soft laugh as he mumbles in his early slumber. “No kiss goodnight?”

“I can think of something better,” I say, tone teasing, fingertips skimming his velvety skin. Reaching for his hand underneath the covers, squeezing it gently as I kiss up his neck and across his cheek. Soon enough his eyes are open wide and his lips hovering over mine, passion not far away.

Dean places his hands on my hips, steadying me on top of him until I’m straddling his lap. “I love you”, he smiles up at me.

Running my nose down his jaw, he growls into my skin, pressing his growing member into my inner thigh. He’s just as rock hard as before. “Dean,” I whimper seductively, wantonly.

He nestles his head on top of my before pressing a chaste peck to my hair. “Y/N,” he moans when I shift a little to get at least some kind of friction. “I am too tired and so are you.”

“I’m not tired anymore,” I giggle when the tip of my nose collides with his.

“Is that so?,” he questions with a cocked eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips before you deliver him with your absolution sliding your wet heat across his length.

“Shit,” he hisses as his forehead bumps into your shoulder, chest heaving with restraint.

You allow your eyes to dance across his features before retreating, falling down next to him with a satisfied grin. “I made up my mind,” you tease relentlessly, “I’m exhausted.”

His lips are on yours before you can speak further, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. Tenderly you suck his tongue into your mouth, using his body as a focal point. You are his treasure map and each time you make love, he crosses off another spot he discovered, another spot he ravished with his godlike body. He rolls his hips against yours and instinctively you answer by lacing your legs around his waist.

“Now now, darling,” he growls ferally, hips bucking slightly as he presses into your cunt, his pelvis rubbing against your still sensitive skin. “You started it, now let me finish it. Let me finish you.”

This is the first thing I thought This is the last thing that I want You were the first one I loved You were the first love I lost

The house feels empty without your man. Dean left right after breakfast, his brother picking him up with a big, goofy smile plastered on his adorable face. You really like Sam and the connection he shares with his brother.

But days like these, where there’s no one around and nothing to do with sit and wait, you find yourself rummaging through your closet for the souvenir box you keep on the bottom shelf. “There it is,” you whisper contentedly when your fingertips touch its wooden surface.

There’s not much inside, just a couple old pictures of you and your parents and the diary you used to keep in your bedside table during high school. But there’s a third item in there as well, one you reach out to instantly. It’s just a simple keychain, but it used to belong to Bucky. Your mind often wanders back to Bucky and how stupid you feel that you let him worm his way back into your thoughts like this. Nevertheless, you regret your decision of never forgiving him for his mistakes. He tossed away his second and his third chance, no longer worthy of your forgiveness. Yet you can’t bring yourself to forgive yourself as well.

You put the box back where you found it and make your way to the living room, attempting to catch up on some of your favourite TV shows but failing when the doorbell suddenly rings.

“Hello. I have a package for Y/N?,” the blond man informs you as you slide open the front door. “It was originally delivered at your old address but the woman was so kind to give me your new one. Sorry about the delay.”

He gingerly hands you the cardboard box as if it’s the most fragile thing in the entire world. You thank him with a polite smile and a small nod, slowly closing the door behind you as you study the information scribbled on the ticket on the top of the box. It had been sent to your old address, just like the mailman had said, approximately one week ago.

Sitting cross-legged on the sofa, you tear it open and gasp once it reveals its contents. There are so many letters inside! Carding your hands through the envelopes, your fingers come across the familiar handwriting you spent countless hours trying to decipher at University. Amongst all the pristine white there’s one red envelope that stands out, also signed 7 days ago.

You tentatively remove the letter from the envelope and start reading it out loud, fighting the silence that threatens to deafen you and swallow you whole.

“My dear, sweet Y/N,

My love, you’re so far away.

I hope you received my surprise in time and I trust that by now you might’ve already figured out that I wrote all these letters with the intention of sending them to you, but that I could never muster up the courage to do so, given what happened a year ago. But somehow I found my confidence again and decided to send them anyway. No harm done in trying, right?

I have written you every single day for the past 12 months, keeping you up to date on the ups and downs of my life in Wakanda. For me it’s some kind of coping mechanism, writing to you. It makes me feel like you’re still in my life, still my best girl and waiting for me back in Brooklyn.

I miss you so much, Y/N, and I love you so much. I apologised to Nat and Clint before I left. I made amends with everybody I’ve done wrong. I guess I just have to fix what’s broken between the two of us, the trust that I broke when I hurt you.

I never meant to cause you any hurt, doll. I’m just not used to someone loving me the way you did. But that doesn’t exonerate me from my sins and I perfectly understand if you never want to see me again. I understand that you might never read this because you threw it all out with the trash.

But darling, the distance is simply too much to bear. I want to be near you, I want to love you and caress you. I want to be the man you wake up next to, the guy that makes you smile and cry tears of happiness. I need you to know that my soul is yours, my heart is yours, my body and my mind, it’s all yours.

You are my sanity, my anchor. So let me be true to you, let me love you the way you deserve to be loved, not the love you chose to settle for. I’m coming back to you soon, sweetheart.

Yours forever and always,

James”

Little droplets cause the ink to run out, spreading across the entire page as you toss it away before attacking the stack of paper in your lap, picking up a random letter and devouring it with all that you are. You read every single letter, not stopping until you’re finished and laying on the ground, rocking back and forth whilst crying your heart out.

You left it too late To change the way I think I'll never say never again Those words will never ever pass my lips

The drive over to Bucky’s new place is tantalisingly long. You didn’t take much time to change or make yourself more presentable, just jumped into your skinny black jeans and favourite t-shirt, not even bothering to switch shoes and hailing a cab in your slippers. You albeit throw the money at the driver before stepping out and wrapping your arms around your shaking body. You’re not cold, it’s the midst of summer after all. You’re shaking because you left Dean’s home in a hurry trying to figure out whether or not you should take your old lover back.

A sentence from one of the letters comes to mind, standing out immediately in a stark contrast against the countless other love letters Bucky has written you over the course of many, too many days.

“You used to be an island to me, so beautiful, so exotic and yet so remote. I always thought I would never be good enough for you, that I was just another sailor failing to get ashore. But now I know that it was me who had been the island, creating more distance where there was none. And you, my love, were the sailor looking for the old, forgotten treasure that is my heart. You loved me once and I hope you can find it in your heart to love me still.”

He always ended with “Yours forever and always, James”.

You ring the buzzer and as its sound kills the time, it also inflates your nerves. What if he doesn’t answer? No, Wanda assured you he’d be home. What if someone else, another woman opens the door? No, otherwise he wouldn’t have begged you to come see him. All these what ifs eat away at you that you don’t even notice a set of the brightest blue eyes falling on your insecure frame, locking eyes with the ground below.

“I didn’t know you’d show up. I mean, I didn’t know for sure,” his soft voice sings lightly, causing your head to snap up and your eyes to hover over his baby blues. “I hoped you would. I even prayed.”

Time has not been unkind to him, his five o’clock shadow making way for a more younger appeal of his clean-shaven jaw. “Bucky,” you heave out with your last breath. “I want to be stronger. I want to be stronger and resist you. But I also don’t want to be worlds apart from you. I can’t do this any longer, I can’t string myself along like this.”

“Doll,” he shushes, taking you into his arms. Melting into his embrace, you release the tears you’ve been holding up. Bucky allows you to crawl deeper underneath his skin, not for a second daring to break the electric current conjoining your bodies.

“I love Dean, I really do. But he’s just another Steve, I am not in love with him,” you cry quietly, your voice wavering with every loud sob whilst an ugly frown disturbing your skin. His eyes never leave yours, his tone not budging an inch as he dedicates every single word that leaves his lips to you.

“I am here, you are here. We are both here. I just want to be yours, if you let me.”

“Please just kiss me,” you beg him, softly grabbing him by the collar as you gauge his reaction. Bucky chuckles, connecting your lips to his in a breathy laugh. Bucky takes control of the kiss and you don’t have to do anything but follow his lead. It’s effortlessly, falling in line with the movements of his body.

He’s positively glowing now he’s got you back in his arms. “I know I’m not supposed to say this, but you’re better off without me, Y/N. You deserve a better man than I will ever be.”

“No,” you reply resolutely, “I’m broken, Bucky,” you explain to him. “I am broken and I tried to put all my pieces back together alone. When that didn’t work, I found someone who was willing to do it for me and along the way I lost pieces of my puzzle, never finding them back again.

So I filled up the blank spaces with other people’s pieces, not realising that when I took a piece of them they lost a piece of their own puzzle as well. I put people through the same misery that I put myself through and I tried to give it all back but failed. It seems like you’re the only one that has the pieces that fit just right since somehow I always seem to find my way back to you.”

This is the first thing I thought This is the last thing that I want You were the first one I loved You were the first love I lost

“You brought me down to my knees,” he blurts out, cupping your face in his hands as the dark of night behind his blue eyes drowns in your flood of tears. “You are the only woman for me. I want you to hear this loud and clear. You,” he takes a deep breath, “You are what matters most to me, you always have.”

Bucky’s tired, you can see it in every breath he takes, the smile on his face wavering slightly with the pressure of insomnia weighing down on him. Bucky is the Atlas of your existence, the soldier fighting a lonely war against his own insecurities. But he doesn’t have to do it alone anymore, he no longer has to trip over the wires of other people’s lives intertwining while he remains isolated.

“And you are the only man for me, Buck.”

He sends you a worn-out smile, beaming with happiness yet weary of the grabby hands of fate waiting to drag you away from him again. You wonder how you could have ever missed it, the haunting look in his eyes whenever he had a sleepless night or the devastating depths of the hole he’s dug for himself. Your lips are on fire as soon as they soothe the corners of his mouth, lifting as he laughs into the kiss.

“Why don’t you call me James anymore?” he exhales slowly when you break apart, his hand rubbing your arms reassuringly and his gaze set on your in a soft comfort. Pressing your lips against his one more time, tasting the sweet innocence of your reunion on the tip of his tongue, you reply without hesitation, wrinkles forming at your elated eyes.

“Because I’m yours now.”

Part 13: the letters

Tagging: the ever-wonderful @beccaanne814-blog @kiwi71281 @a-little-hell-to-raise @unpredictable-firecracker @marvelingatthewonder @emilyinwonderland3 @mrshopkirk @oopsmybagofplums @hardcorehippos @iiharu-kunii @knittingknerdy @winterwolf57 @dontbeamenacetotheforce @winterboobaer @shamvictoria11@thedragonblood @hymnofthevalkyries @feelmyroarrrr @amrita31199

[hamimagines]

My Dearest, (Reader X Thomas Jefferson/Alexander Hamilton)

Masterlist

Request Queue

Warnings: The World’s Unhealthiest Relationships™ (cheating etc etc etc) a lil steamy

Request- “REQUESTS ARE OPEN HELL YES. I have been holding onto this idea for so long, trying to find the right blog to send it to and here you are. This is so cheesy. Forgive me. I was thinking maybe Jefferson and [reader] might've had a thing but then he left for France, shit happened, [reader] got close to Hamilton and he went heart eyes but then TJeff comes home and #drama?!! This is so ridiculous I'M SORRY.”

A/N -( You know when you already have a ton of sequels to write, but you can’t help ending things on a cliffhanger? oops)

Songs (I gave everyone anthems idk)-

Reader- yes girl -- Bea Miller

Thomas- Habits (Stay High) -- Tove Lo

Alex-  I Know A Place -- MUNA

For the lil’ baby smut scene- Wrong -- MAX ft. Lil Uzi Vert 

(^^^^^PLEASE DEAR GOD LISTEN TO THIS SONG MAX HAS NICE HAIR AND ABS AND A HIGH VOICE AND I LIKE LIL UZI VERT’S RAP STYLE AND I JUST REALLY LOVE THIS SONG OKAY)

Words- 4,348

The first time you saw him was...well, not ideal. You were walking from your house to the store, just to pick up some milk, nothing big or serious, and he’d walked into the store like a puffed out peacock. He was a total celebrity, people instantly started talking to him. You has no interest, and you thought that was why he noticed you. Your drool stayed firmly in your mouth and your knees were nowhere near weak. Well, until he approached you. 

“Do you need any help with that?” He’d asked. You sighed and gave the usual response that you were fine. It was a two-pound bag of flour and some bottles of milk, less than the weight of a baby, and since that was all men like him tended to think women were good for, you figured he would take the hint. But of course, he didn’t. 

“I’m Thomas Jefferson.” 

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you.” You shifted the weight of the flour and stuck your hand out for him to shake. You hadn’t had many interactions with men of high standing and didn’t really know how to act. But to your surprise, Thomas leaned down and brought your hand lightly to his lips. Your skin tingled long after he pulled away. You nodded awkwardly and started towards the squat woman at the counter, setting your items down. She smiled knowingly and you glanced behind you to see that Thomas followed. 

“Here let me.” He placed several notes on the counter. 

“No no no.” You shoved them back. “I can take care of myself.” 

“Please.” he scoffed. “I’m rich.” He pushed the paper back and the woman took them before you could object, making a note in her book. “Besides,” Thomas picked up the flour and milk bottles, “if I didn’t pay for these I wouldn’t have an excuse to walk you home.” 

You were so shocked at his boldness that your brain couldn’t find the words to protest before you were out of the store and walking back towards your house. “You really don’t want to meet my family.” you said when you gained composure. “They are a lot of them and they’re...well...eccentric, Mr. Jefferson.”

“Please, call me Thomas.” 

You looked up at him. “Then you must call me Y/N.” 

“I was hoping I could, Y/N.” He winked at you and continued to walk forward. You blushed and kept your head down. It was early in autumn and the leaves were just starting to change, casting an orange tint on the roadways you’d known your entire life. 

“I come from a big family too.” Thomas commented, interrupting your thoughts. 

“Really?” you asked. He didn’t seem the type. 

“Thousands of siblings, it seems.” He laughed lightly. “You actually had to fight for attention. It was ridiculous.” 

You nodded. That explained the demeanor he had...and the suit. “This is my house.” You said awkwardly. You were slightly embarrassed by the state it was in. It was a large house with a sizable yard, but it had seen better days. 

“Wonderful.” Thomas gave you a grandiose smile and walked right up to your front door, stepping in without so much as an invitation. You quickly hurried after him so that your family wouldn’t be shocked and start to push him out upon sight. 

You rushed in just as your mother came around to see Thomas. 

“Oh, Y/N! Who’s your friend?” she asked cheerily. Leave it to your mother to get excited any time your and another man stood near each other. 

“This is Mist- Thomas.” He flashed an award-winning smile at your use of his first name. “Thomas Jefferson. He came to help me with the groceries.” 

“It’s nice to meet you.” he said cordially. 

“What do you do, Mister Jefferson?”

“Many things. I’m currently staying in a town nearby working on a very important document. I was taking a walk to clear my head when I met your lovely daughter. Your face heated ever so slightly. He was such a proper man. He was someone you could really see yourself with. 

But a lot had changed since that day.

Letters. Letters and letters and letters. Never anything more. Paper was all you ever saw of him. When he was done writing and he left you behind in Philadelphia to move back to his home in Virginia. Years apart. Years. And he was doing this to you again as he stayed in Paris. 

“It’s just a short trip.” he’d said to you. “I’m going there to meet with Benjamin Franklin, and when I’m back we’ll be married.” 

“Do you promise?” 

“The moment I’m off the boat.” 

But it was Thomas, of course. So when you heard the Mister Franklin had offered up his position as Minister to France to your love, you knew there was no way he’d turn it down. And so, letters. Lots of letters. 

It was good, you supposed. Your mother needed the extra help since your father passed away about a month after you and Thomas had officially starting courting. That had been an amazing day. For eight years, Thomas had kept your hope of a life with him alive. Through the letters and occasional meetings and stolen kissed in the moonlight, and yes, letters. You weren’t stupid. You were never under the impression that he was faithful only to you during these eight years. He was a man of power after all. That’s why you had been so excited when he all but got down on one knee before he left. 

Well, that short vacation stretched on for months. It turned to a job, that lasted for years. His letters had slowed in their frequency after about two years, and you hadn’t received a new one in six months. 

Three years. Three years in addition to the other eight, and you decided that you’d had enough. You moved to a new city. You started a new life. You were going to live without him. You were going to stop waiting for Thomas Jefferson. 

The last letter he’d sent was a consolation for your mother passing away. Consolation in the form of money. Money that you’d never asked for, but you certainly weren’t going to let waste. All your sibling were well off with jobs or spouses, and you couldn’t bear staying in that big, empty, rotting house on your own. So you took the money he’d sent you and you moved to New York. You got a job as a tailoress. It was barely enough to keep you afloat and you slept in the shop because you didn’t have enough to keep your own home.  All sorts of people came through here. 

You learned how to mend socks, uniforms, even hats. Your favorite was the soldiers, though. They were never shy about sharing their war stories. You were always more fascinated than the other girls, but you couldn’t help it. They spun tales of brawls and spies and freedom. It was easy to get caught up in what they said. 

One day you were helping your overseer Richard take the measurements of a man you appeared to be in need of a very official looking uniform, one you’d never seen before. You were instantly drawn in. 

Richard did not always approve of you talking to the clients, so you waited until he left the room to approach this man. He staring at the wall blankly. You found yourself wondering what was on his mind. 

“Excuse me?” you asked quietly so as not to scare him. 

His head darted toward you. He smiled, but it didn’t feel genuine. “Yes?” 

“I hope you don’t mind my asking, but what is this coat for.” 

His mouth hung open slightly. “The war.” 

“It’s rather different than the war uniforms I’ve seen here before.” You bit your tongue so as to not talk too quickly. 

“My job is...different.” he looked down. 

“You seem dejected by that.” You pretended to busy yourself by sitting at a table and folding fabrics that had already been folded. “Do you not favor the war?” 

“No! No, I’m in full support of it.” He looked away from you. “Just wish I was more than a secretary.” he mumbled so you almost couldn’t hear him. Several moments of silence passed, but you did not leave the room. “What about you?” he asked suddenly. “Why do you tailor?” 

“It’s not terrible work.” You shrugged. 

He chuckled. “Yes, I know. I lived with one while I attended King’s College. What I mean is, why work at all? Why not stay home?” 

You looked up and saw that he was much closer than he had been before. “I...I have nowhere else to go.” 

“Really? No husband or parents or children?” 

You nearly winced at the word husband. “Nobody.” you hesitated to say. 

He nodded thoughtfully. “Me either.” 

Richard came through the door then, and you quickly looked away from the man. 

“Well, Alexander. What about this?” You dared a glance upward. Richard was holding a swatch of fabric out to him. The man looked from you to the fabric, like he was just remembering why he had come here.

“Uh, yes, That should be fine. Thank you.” 

“Perfect! It’ll be ready in a week’s time.” 

He nodded and turned from Richard quickly back to you, leaning over the table so your face was near his. 

“Tell me. What’s your name?” 

“Y/N.” you said quietly. The warning look Richard was giving you made your voice go quiet. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

He smiled. A real smile this time. And it was different than anyone you were accustomed to seeing from any men before. “I’m Alexander Hamilton.” His eyes met yours and smile cautiously spread across your lips. 

“Okay...” you whispered. His dark eyes moved back and forth across your face.

“Okay.” He pressed his hands against the table lightly. “I’ll let you get back to working, Y/N.” He stood and turned from you. 

You called out to him just before he reached the front door. “Alexander!” He turned around with eyebrows raised. “You should smile more. It suits you.” 

His eyes glistened. “I’ll try to remember that.” He inclined his head towards Richard. “Thank you. I’ll be back in a week.” 

You couldn’t help but smile as you watched him leave. Richard gave you a disappointed look. “There’s no need to be such a whore.” he commented. 

Alexander didn’t come back a week later. He came in the very next day. 

“Mister Hamilton! Unfortunately, I don’t have anything prepared yet.” 

“Oh, that’s fine!” Alexander said breathlessly, barely even acknowledging Richard. He was looming straight at you. “I’m actually here to see Y/N.”

Your eyes widened. You were working at the same spot you had been yesterday, but this time several other working girls were there with you. They started to giggle and smile and point before all clearing away from you as soon as Alex came over. You stood and met him half way. 

“Me?” 

“Yes. I...I wanted to ask you if you’d come with me to a ball tonight. It’s one of several parties that will be thrown before many of us leave for the war.” His eyes were wide and earnest, but they seemed to always hold a certain type of exhaustion behind them. 

“I...You....You wanted to take me with you?” 

Alexander nodded. “If you would like.” 

You searched desperately for words to say knowing that everyone in the room, especially Alexander, were watching you very closely. “Forgive me for asking but, why?” 

“Why what?” 

“Why me? We’ve only just met.” 

“And? I find you fascinating, and I want to know you more. We seem so similar.” You couldn’t argue with that. “So? Will you?” he persisted. 

A million thoughts rushed through your head. What was he implying? You didn’t want to get involved with anyone else. You liked your life the way it was, and you didn’t want to waste another eleven years pining after someone. But then you looked at Alexander’s nervous face, and you just couldn’t bear to crush his spirits. It was one ball, and you had, quite literally, nothing to lose.

“I...I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.” 

“Wouldn’t hurt?” One of the workers, Katarina, chimed in quickly. “She’d love to.” Katarina gave Alexander a cordial smile. He glanced at you, and you nodded, signaling that you agreed with her. A huge grin spread across his face. 

“Great! I’ll come by here again later tonight.” He took your hand and kissed it gently. Your mind flashed to your first interactions with Thomas. His smooth skin and strong arms. His charming words and his dark brown eyes, not dissimilar to Alexander’s. 

You smiled at him as he rose again. “Tonight.” you confirmed. He gave you one last smirk before he turned and left. 

The moment the door closed. You were covered in a wash of skirts and perfume and excited voices. 

“You didn’t tell us you were being courted!” 

“What’s his name?”

“Where’s he from?” 

“He’s so wonderful!” 

Despite Richard’s best efforts, not much work got done that afternoon. Questions were thrown this way and that. You tried to answer them, but truthfully, all you knew was his name and that he didn’t like his job much, whatever it was. 

The girls insisted that you prepared yourself as much as you could. They spent most of the day taking pieces of older dresses laying around the shop and mixing them into a gown that fit your approval. Abigail took you to the back where everyone slept. She sat you down on a stool and started doing your hair up. 

“Are you nervous?” 

You fiddled with your hands. “Do I seem nervous?” 

“Very.” 

You sighed. “I just...I don’t know if I want to be with anyone right now.” 

Her hands paused on your head for a moment. “Why? Not to be rude, but you’re definitely of age.” 

You chuckled. “I’m well aware of that.”

“Then why?” 

You looked at the bed. If you let your mind wander enough, you could almost see him there, calling you darling and making empty promises. 

“I’ve had some in issues in the past, you could say.” 

“He seems like a nice man.” Abigail started to stick pins in your hair. You shrugged. You couldn’t really say whether he was nice or not. Everything was all so fast and new. “Y/N.” Abigail was in front of you now, looking you in the eye. “Never be afraid to love someone.” 

“Y/N! The gown is ready! Put it on quickly! Before Alexander gets here!” Margaret called from the front room. 

He arrived in a charming military suit. He took your hand and lead you out to the small carriage he’d brought. “I’m sorry it’s not a lot, but...wow. You look amazing.” 

You smiled at Alex while he helped you into the front quarter. Once you were both settled and the carriage took off, you found yourself silently staring out the window. Your mind kept wandering back to Thomas. What was he doing right now? Who was he with? Did he ever think of you anymore?

“You seem worried. Did I do something wrong?” Alex asked cautiously, though the nervousness in his tone could still be heard. 

“No, I’ve-It’s been awhile since I’ve been to such an event...with such a man.” you admitted.  

“You seem pretty dejected.” 

You internally cursed yourself. Romanticizing your past relationships was definitely not the way to start a new one. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be such a pain.” 

Alex quickly held his hands up and shook his head. “No! It’s not like that at all! You just seem really upset, and I only wonder why, if I’m not overstepping. You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to.” He tried to hide it, but his face fell slightly. 

“I do want to come with you, Alex.” You resisted putting your hands on him. It would be too improper.

Alex pursed his lips like he was analyzing you. After a moment of intensely awkward silence, he spoke.“Who did this to you?”

“Who- what? What do you mean?” There was no way he could know. How could he know?

“You’ve been in love, and it didn’t go well.” Your body tensed. “It’s really quite obvious - to me, at least. You’re an attractive woman, but you’ve never married. Your mind sometimes looks like it’s somewhere else. And you’re not very...well, comfortable in the presence of most men. So either you had a terrible father, or a terrible courter, or both. Who am I to say?” He looked up at you slowly at the end of his speech, and his eyes glinted with a certain confidence that you were accustomed to, but it was more playful somehow. He wore a smirk on his face like he’d won an award. 

“That’s an excellent observation, sir.” You crossed your arms, feeling the need to guard yourself. 

“You can trust me, Y/N. Like I said, I want to get to know you, even if you think it’s bad.” He paused stared at him. “Tell me about him.” Your jaw dropped slightly. “Really.” 

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat. Alex’s eyes were kind and understanding. You felt safe rather than pressured. “He was charming. Proper in nearly every way. He always knew just what to say at the right time.” You felt yourself getting lost in the memory.  “He was perfect, or at least, it felt like he was. But he was never around. Moving here and there. Eleven years he had me convinced someday he’d just come and take me and make me his wife, and then one day all that just...stoppped. So I left the state.” You sighed and stared at the window. The carriage had stopped, and you could faintly hear music coming from the nearby building.“How long have we been here?” You swiveled your head to Alex.  

“Awhile, but I didn’t want to stop you.” You flushed and avoided his eyes. “I’m sorry he treated you that way for so long. It sounds like your still hurting.” 

“I’m not!” You were quick to defend. Alexander gave you a look “I don’t want to be.” Your fingers nervously intertwined in the lace of your gown. “I’m...I’m so sorry, but I think this was a mistake.”

Alex nodded and opened the carriage door. He started to get out. You hadn’t meant to upset him so much for him to abandon you there. You were about to speak up and apologize to him, but then he turned around and stuck his hand out for you to take. 

“I’m not saying you have to come with me. You say the word and I’ll take you back, but you deserve a night of fun. Let me help you.” 

You smiled and let your fingers touch his. “I’d love that.”

 You started to see Alex regularly after that night. You learned about his family or lack thereof, his past, his reasons for coming to New York, you learned everything. You like the mess of him. The excitement he always had, how he wore his emotions on his sleeve, the way that he stuttered every once in awhile when his brain was moving faster than his mouth. He was real, and he was honest with you. He regularly visited you at the shop, and he took you every ball the army put on. 

At one such occasion, about a month into your friendship with Alex, you were messing around, teasing and joking with him by hiding somewhere in the huge venue and running away the second he found you. You knew you were acting childish, but you didn’t care. You weren’t expected to be agreeable and proper anymore. You hadn’t had this much fun in eleven years. 

Alex was encroaching on your current hiding spot. You shrunk back against the door, hoping the frame would hide you from him. It didn’t, of course, and he quickly found you. You laughed and tried to run away, but then he caught your arm and pulled you back.

 His face was calm, but his eyebrows were raised in silent question. He grabbed both your forearms and started to gently push you backward, never once breaking eye contact. You back hit the wall. His tan fingers ran over your cheek, and his mouth parted slightly, as did yours. “I’m sorry, I just...” he whispered. His eyes traveled to your lips

You shook your head. “It’s okay.” You pushed yourself up and kissed him fiercely. An animalistic urge took you over. This kiss was raw and intense and real and anything but Jefferson. 

Alex’s hand went through your hair and pulled your head back, breaking the contact with him. Your eyes lidded as you tried to catch your breath. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long.” 

“Then don’t stop.” you breathed. Alex smirked and brought his lips back to yours. His hand rubbed along your side, up your chest, to your neck and then face. He pressed his body against yours. 

He moved his mouth to your cheek, jaw, and neck, speaking between each kiss. “Please. Let. Me. Court. You.” 

You bit your lip and let out a ‘yes’ that was more of a moan than anything else, but he seemed to get it because his hips thrust ever so lightly against yours. You let your head fall back against the wall, and your back arched forward. 

Alex kneeled and for a moment you were confused, but then he started to lift up your skirt. “Alex!” You shouted. “There are people downstairs, someone could walk by at any time!” 

“Well, I guess that’s their problem then, isn’t it?” He smirked before dipping his head underneath your skirt. You smiled and, covering your mouth with your hand, slumped against the wall, totally in his capable care. 

When Alex brought you back to the shop later that night, you were practically floating through the air. You couldn’t sleep no matter how long you lay there. Your mind was swirling with images and plans with Alex, and yes, Thomas too, but for once you weren’t sad about him. 

A knock sounded on the door. Only a few of the other girls woke up. One, Katarina, got up and lit a candle. Their faces were scared. Richard came through the door holding a candle of his own. “You’re all here? Are you alright?” 

“Yes, we’re fine but who is that?” More girls were waking up now and asking the same questions. 

“I’ll go see. Stay here,” Richard commanded. “Whoever it is may have bad intentions.” 

“He may act rude sometimes, but at least he’s protective.” Katarina commented. 

You all stayed quiet and listened very intently. It sounded like whoever was there was a man. Richard came through not long after with a look of annoyance. 

“It’s for you, Miss Y/L/N,” he said with venom. Your brow furrowed. You asked Katarina to come with you, which of course so turned into most of the girls. 

When you got out to the front of the shop, you were met with a tired looking young man you’d never seen before. He looked relieved to see you. 

“Thank God! I traveled so far to find you. Y/N Y/L/N?” 

You nodded slowly. “That’s me.” 

“These are for you. They’ve been sitting around forever and they won’t stop coming in. I’m sure when I get back there will be at least a dozen more. You should tell your friends your address has changed.” 

You barely registered what he said because as he was talking he picked up a large sack and dumped a pile of paper onto the floor.  

Letters. Letters and letters and letters. Well over a year of lost letters. 

There has to be at least a hundred. All addressed to you, from Paris, from Mister Thomas Jefferson.