#i love going to little markets and things and buying earrings from local small businesses

[queer-reader-07]

one of my proudest achievements is that i have become The Fun Makeup & Earring Person both at school and at work

[imagines-hoarder]

House Warming - Bucky Barnes

Summary: Hopping through some standout moments in making Bucky's apartment a place worth coming home to. (This definitely could have been a headcanon but I refuse to do headcanons at this time.)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 2.6 k

Warnings: fluff with a lil angst

A/N: I have finished all the assignments left for my degree and decided to sit down and write today. This is probably trash but idc because it has been written and therefore I may as well release it. It's been a while since I've written and years since I've truly tried dipping my foot into a different fandom, but I figured I'd give it ago. Please don't forget to leave comments, I love interacting with y'all. Thank you @bwbatta​ for the dividers! xoxox

Masterlist

It all started with a damn candle. A ‘sandalwood & vanilla orchid’ candle tucked away in a reused cyan jar.

“I found it at the art market down the street last weekend,” you said as you placed it in the corner of the living room window. “You know we have to support local business.”

“And I shouldn’t assume this is your way of telling me my place smells, right?” Bucky quipped from the kitchen island, a cup of coffee in his hand and a lazy smile on his face. He’d just gotten back from a 12-day mission with Sam, and the last thing he had on his to-do list was to buy candles.

The smile grew firmer as you put yourself into his arms. “Complete opposite, actually. I bought it cause I thought it smelled just like you.” You hid your face within his chest, and he thanked the stars that you couldn’t see the warmth rising in his cheeks. His barren apartment felt a little bigger with a candle in the windowsill.

From there it became decorative pillows… and a couch to hold them. The small living room had quickly become a mess by the time you both had brought it up to his fourth-floor apartment, furniture wrap and packing peanuts strewn everywhere.

“I still don’t know why you needed to buy a sofa this big,” Bucky grumbled as he leaned over the back of the beige three-seater, looking down at your splayed out across its cushions.

“Don’t get me wrong, babe. I love the transient bachelor look you’ve got going on here, but you need more furniture than an armchair,” you mumbled between heavy breaths as you tried to regain control from maneuvering the couch into the apartment.

“And the pillows?” A laugh fell from your lips as you watched him look at the indigo cushions with a remarkable amount of disdain. Who buys pillows made just to look nice on a couch?

“They add character.”

“I didn’t think character was an area we were lacking in. Transient bachelor, remember?” He walked around the couch and shifted you over so he could lay beside you. You instinctively curled into him as you both closed your eyes. For a second the place felt like home. “I also don't know how you plan for us both to fit on this couch every day along with the pillows.”

“Don’t worry about it,” You looked up from his chest with a mischievous glint that made his heart skip. “It’s a pullout bed too. I’m sure it’ll be firm enough even for you.”

The home improvements didn’t stop there, but Bucky refused to admit how much he enjoyed them.

He liked having a place and person to come home to. After you had bought neutral bedding for his room, you’d spent an evening putting together ‘his and hers’ trestle bookcases for either side of the bed. He’d try to keep up his crabbish demeanor as you argued that ‘you needed a place to set your books for when you slept over,’ and a side table could no longer contain the small collection you had spilling over. Even still, he couldn’t find it in himself to banter much about the minor changes you made to make the place feel lived in.

And God, did he love living with you around. Between missions, his continued therapy, and trying to find his place in a world that had tripled in opportunity since his youth, he knew that he never had to question who he was and where he fit in when he walked through that door. You still occasionally slept at your own apartment when he was away, but he could always count on you being asleep in his bed by the time he came home.

One toothbrush in a glass became two, and from there, hand creams, face masks, and cotton pads cluttered the bathroom counter, packed away in their clear containers. You had made sure to keep lavender bath salts on hand for the late-night baths you took together when he woke up in a panic, unable to close his eyes again for fear of falling back into a nightmare.

It took time and working through plenty of hesitation before Bucky could progress from sleeping on the pull-out sofa to the bed, but ever since, you found your nights attended by restlessness whenever you weren’t wrapped in his arms.

Once your lease was up and you had a lengthy conversation about your inability to rest without him, you quickly filled the apartment with brown boxes. Bucky had been no less than astounded by how much you fit into them. From then on, no nook or cranny was without a vase or shelf.

“How many mugs does one house need,” Bucky asked skeptically while he continued to carefully pull them from their paper wrappings.

“Oh, come on! They’re fun!” You exclaimed, wrapping an arm around his waist as you took the Charlie Brown mug from his metal palm. “Plus, we go through enough coffee around here to justify some extra mugs.”

After you put the mug into the lowest shelf of the cabinet, you busied yourself with filing away the spices one cabinet over. No matter how much he tried, Bucky couldn’t pull his eyes away from you, lost in your own world as you chipped away at unpacking your belongings, making yours his, and vice versa. The domesticity in the little things you did was something he could get used to, and he wanted to return the feeling of normalcy as much as he could. He was far from the average boyfriend, but you remind him that could be a good thing. You never wanted to be average, but in these small moments, as you both did what normal couples do, he felt that he could create a new normal with you.

“So your Christmas gift came in already, and it’s too big to hide.” Your awkward tone carried over the phone as he exited a station ten minutes away from the apartment. Even though his neck ached and the cold nipped at the top of his ears, he couldn’t stop himself from releasing a breathy laugh.

“I thought you said you were good at this gift-giving thing, doll,” he teased you as he maneuvered his way to your shared apartment.

“Oh, don’t you fret, baby. I am the best gift-giver in all of New York City. I just slightly miscalculated how big this thing was and have realized it won’t fit into our closet.”

He tsked with a smirk on his face. “If you say so.”

“Hey, you gave me my Christmas gift a week ago.”

“Yeah, that’s because I didn’t know if I’d be back before Christmas.”

“Well, you will be, and I’m glad you are,” your voice softened lovingly as he pulled out his keys to the front of the building.

Bucky had gotten used to your love, but he’d vow to never take it for granted. All the pain he’d endured had somehow led him to you, the person who didn’t see his broken pieces as a burden or a project but as a potential to be whatever he desired.

When he hung up the call and unlocked the apartment, his brows furrowed into one; the apartment was pitch black. It was only when he heard your soft footstep walking towards the entrance that his face relaxed.

Before he could even kiss you, you had your palms firmly placed over his eyes. “No peeking; your gift is in the living room.”

The uncertainty in what you could have got him made his stomach clench. “Is it an animal?”

You slowly dragged him through the front hallway, making sure to avoid crashing into the entryway storage table. “I’m sorry to say it’s not alive.”

“Is it a nice welcome-home spread with candles, fruit, and the pullout bed all set up?”

He could feel your eyes roll to completion. “Easy there, sergeant. That’s for later.” You pulled him down to sit on the couch, and he kept his eyes closed as you pulled your palms away, moving to turn on a lamp. “Okay, Buck. open up.”

When he opened his eyes, it took him a moment to understand what he was seeing nestled against the wall; when he did recognize it, he could only form two words “Holy shit.”

“Holy shit indeed.”

He was quick to stand up and cross the room, eager to get a good look at the walnut centerpiece. “Does it work?”

You scoffed as you moved to kiss his cheek. “What kind of girlfriend would get her ancient boyfriend a broken phonograph console?”

He didn’t even attempt to answer as he bent down to wrap his arms around you, his lips eager to find yours. “A fucking Magnavox radio and phonograph,” he mumbled against your lips.

“A working Magnavox radio and phonograph, you mean.” When you pulled away and saw that his face held a glow reserved only for special occasions, you knew you had made the right choice. “I’ve got some records wrapped up if you want to open those now too.”

You yelped in surprise as he picked you up and made his way towards your bedroom. “I’ve got something else I’d like to unwrap first.”

Bucky Barnes had grown up in a period when the average family could seldom afford nice things or much of anything at all. The Great Depression has resulted in the slogan ‘Make it do or Do without,” being ingrained into what memories he still had, and 'doing without' had become commonplace for the Barnes household.

That’s why every gadget and gizmo you added to your household left him in awe. For much of his life, including the decades he spent as a weapon for Hydra, he hadn’t been allowed to call anything his own; he was still getting used to living so plentifully, both in love and in life. But now, he could barely move and he thought it had all been taken away from him.

The attack was supposed to have been contained, at least three miles away from the apartment. Anything less, and he would have made you visit your family upstate instead of just suggesting it. By the time Sam had told him that there’d been some confirmed damage within a block of the apartment, Bucky was already on his way home. He couldn’t think of anything but the worse: you trapped in a collapsing apartment building or pulling up to find no building there at all.

He felt his lungs fill with air again as he pulled up to your building, completely intact regardless of the severe damage less than a five-minute walk away. It felt like both seconds and hours between when he parked his outside and unlocked the front door.

“He doesn’t have his phone on him, mom. How am I supposed to…” you trailed off from your call as he walked into the living room, turning your head away from the Breaking News report you’d been glued to for the last hour. “Wait, I’ll call you back. Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll call you back.” Your eyes never left his as he walked over to you, hanging up the phone with worry in your eyes. “Buck, are you oka-”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before he pulled you off of the couch and into his arms. His grip was less reserved than he usually kept, but he made sure not to hurt you, eager to keep you in his arms, where he knew you were safe. A single tear fell from the corner of his eyes as he realized the real possibility that he could have lost you if you lived even 5 minutes closer to the attack. You stayed like that for a while, gathered tightly in his arms as you both settled onto the floor You didn’t push him to verbalize his fear; you already understood it. And it took this occurrence for him to realize he never wanted to experience this feeling again.

Bucky was quiet for the rest of the evening, and while it worried you, his fear had been evident enough not to require questioning. The city-wide cleanup had lasted all hours of the night; for the first time in all the years you had lived in the city, the sounds of the whirring of vehicles clearing debris off the street had been too close to ignore. The sun was rising before a single word was said between you and Bucky, tangled together on the sofa as the first ray of light made itself known.

“You’ve spent so much time piecing this place together, doll.” His voice was raspy. You know he hates when you see him cry, but his pain was always evident in his voice. “And it could have been all wiped away in seconds.” You let a heavy silence settle between you as you traced a pattern into his shoulder. He couldn’t bear to say it, but you knew what he meant: You could have been gone within seconds. “I just… I don’t ever want to feel like this again.”

You’d both gone through so much to make your relationship work. Nearly normal was as close as you would ever attain to being an average couple. The distance, the days without contact, and the ever-present fear that anything could pull you away from one another was something that had taken time to work through.

You looked around the living room and saw the place you had built together. There were photos and books scattered on any flat surface, a leftover mug half-filled with cold tea, and a record left out on the phonograph. The apartment looked like what love felt like; a messy combination of everything you and Bucky. But this apartment could not contain everything that ‘home’ was; only Bucky could do that.

The words fell from your mouth before you could restrain them. “Maybe we should move.”

Your eyes found each other, and you both sat in silence, though it felt lighter, invigorated with the new proposition.

Before he even responded, you could see tension dissolve from his shoulders. “Where do you want to move?”

You hadn’t thought that far ahead, only being able to provide him with a shrug. “I don’t know… maybe upstate, maybe somewhere else.”

“Your mom would like you being Upstate.”

“My mom would love us living next door too, but I don’t see that in the cards anytime soon.” You got a ghost of a smile for that.

“We could probably afford a house if we moved out there,” he said as he moved his lips to meet your forehead.

“Buck, I’d move anywhere with you. As long as we have each other, then we have all we need to rebuild this place.”

He pressed soft kisses to the crown of your head, and you swore you felt his chest flutter. “Tomorrow, I’m gonna look for some places, bigger ones too.” He tilted your head up to find your eyes, and you were sure that all of the love you carried for each other was incredibly visible at that moment. “You have made this apartment something worth coming home to. Now let me give you a house to make a home.” Your skin tingled with adoration as you pulled him as close as possible, burying your face into his neck.

You didn’t want to let go. You wanted to lay in this room, in this bed, and in this moment until the end of time, but you knew that something bigger and better was on the horizon for you and Bucky.

“All I heard is that you’re buying me a house.” His laugh was music to your ears.

[bakulova]

Catradora X Reader

S4/5 Catra and Adora is so cute. I just wanted to comfort them so much. 

Hope you enjoy!

Adora and Catra had gotten into an argument last night. You didn’t know why all you knew was Catra ran out of the house slamming the door behind her while Adora stormed into the room not even acknowledging you. All you wanted to do was read in peace but nOooOoo. They always had to poke at each other and then the other gets mad and runs off. You thought about comforting her but decided against it taking into consideration that her emotions are still all over the place and you really didn’t want to be yelled at for trying to help. You and secretly Adora started to worry about Catra since she wasn’t home yet. You quietly tell Adora to rest while saying that Catra will be back soon. 

She sighs and gets comfortable on the bed but kept twisting and turning. After a while you sigh and get off the little rocking chair in the bedroom and slide into bed next to Adora. You caress her face and give her little kisses all over before saying “Adora please rest. I will come get you if she comes back alright...” she gives you an uneazy look then admits defeat and snuggles into you, putting her head on your chest and swinging and arm and leg over your body. After a couple of hours Adora is now move little ways away from you after almost hitting you in the face with her sleep fighting. You hear the front door open and close quietly, then gentle pitter patter of of 2 people. You immediately know it’s Catra and Melog. She must have taken them with her.

 You sigh in relief and quietly get out of bed. You walk out and look around for her and see her with a small blanket laying on the couch looking depressed and cute. You walk over and sit in front of her while petting melog. “Hey...” she doesn’t look at you and instead looks everywhere but you. “What...We were scared you weren’t coming back.” You stopped yourself from asking what happened worried that asking will bring up memories of something that clearly hurt her. She just ignores you and looks around. You can tell she’s about to cry so you leave it at that and go to the kitchen to grab something warm for her to drink. Coming back with tea, you sit beside her “You can drink this to keep you warm. I know it was snowing when you left so you must have been freezing.” She looks at the cup and takes a sip. 

“Adora is sleeping right now and I won’t wake her since she really needed sleep but you need to sleep too.” You look towards the room then back at her “If you want to sleep out her for now I... I can get you a better blanket and comfy pillows.” She finally looks at you “I’ll sleep out here” You nod getting up to go get what you promised. When bringing them she just laid there, you automatically knew she wanted you to do it. You gently smile and start tucking her in and asking if she comfortable. She nods, ears are flattened while Melog climbs on top of her and gets comfy also. When leaving Catra grabs your hand “Please stay...I don’t want to be alone...” You nod and sit back down seeing as there was no more space for you on the couch. “Did you want to watch a movie or something?” “No... c-can we just hold hands? Can you stay till I fall asleep?” You gently smile “yeah yeah we can” You excuse yourself and quickly grab a book, blanket and pillow. You sit down while moving closer, turning your back with her arm resting over your shoulder.

 You kiss her forearm and wait till she sleeps. After a couple of hours, you still don’t feel like sleeping and the sun is now rising. You sigh knowing your sleep pattern is fucked. You turn to see that Catra snoring cutely. You giggle and kiss her nose while noticing how calm she looks considering the fight. You remember that you have some shopping to do today. You gently let go of Catra’s hand and she moves turning away from you. You smirk staring a moment longer then moving towards melog and giving it a little kiss in the head. You quickly and quietly for the day. You make a list of things you need and get ready to go out. Before leaving yoy give both Adora and Catra a kiss. When leaving you feel a little tug on your jacket, you turn back and see Melog trying to get you to stay. You laugh bending down “Melog I gotta get us food!” It mewls while dipping it’s head under your hand. “Do you wanna come with me?” It mewls again “I take it as a yes” finally getting out the door, the sun is now up and the frost is starting to melt.

 You go down to the local market looking around and buying things along the way you meet up with Glimmer and Bow. They were taking trips to villages to see how everyone was doing. You tag along, eating lunch and having a great time. By the time you got back home Adora and Catra were for sure up. Walking inside and putting the things down with the help of Melog. You started putting things down and hear a two pairs of footsteps coming towards you fast. You turn around only to be jumped on. “Y/N where were you!” Adora yells. You wince at her voice “I went shopping and then hung out with Glimmer and Bow” Catra grumbles “We have been worried about you all day stupid” She pushes you face away from hers “Hey! I had to do some shopping. Why? Did something happen while I was gone?” “No but you could’ve woken us up to go with you!” Catra hisses while Adora nods nuzzlng into the curve of your neck. You laugh “Oh sorry guys but you both really need to the sleep...” they gasp seemingly offended “what you guys were coming for each others neck last night I think my choice was very valid” Catra grunts “whatever”

She throws herself back on you. You notice that Adora hasn’t said anything or moved much. You look down and see that she’s just staring at you two lovingly. You clear your throat “Did you guys talk about what happened last night?” They stop what they’re doing and pull away sitting on either side of you. “yes... yes we did” Adora says awkwardly. You look at her suspiciously then at Catra “If talk why awkward?” you joke. They relax a little “We wanted you to be there but you weren’t anywhere to be found so we just forced the conversation.” Adora said. “aw but you guys don’t need to be there for YOUR argument.” “BUT we do.” Catra says getting annoyed. You laugh getting up “You guys are cute but if you guys talked it out like you say you did then please help me put away the groceries!” They quickly get up and start putting things away. When dinner came around they wouldn’t stop bothering you about help so you allowed them and when they were busy you gave a quick and loving kiss to their cheeks leaving them wanting more. 

[sweetkingdomstarlight-blog]

watching you

Pairings - Lee Bodecker x Reader

Word Count - over 2.5k (loads of them)

Warnings - stalkerish Lee, arsehole ex, gun violence, eventual smut, breeding kink.

A/N - firstly if you are a minor then shoo, come back when you’re 18 please. Secondly thanks to my wife @buckyownsmylife​ for proofing this for me and as always hyping me up enough to post. This is for her 2k birthday challenge and if you aren’t already following her then what are you waiting for?

A/N 2 - @dreamslikeaheartbeat surprised me with this awesome mood board earlier and I love it. I encourage you all to go and have a look at her work she’s amazing and you won’t regret it.

Being one of the only detectives in this small town meant that most people respected Lee Bodecker, he would always get a table at the diner, always go to the front of the queue and locals knew to do what they were told when he asked.

That was until you arrived, moving here from another state you knew absolutely nobody and decided to open a coffee shop across from the station. The day before you opened you took a tray of coffees and freshly baked muffins to the station to say hi and let everyone know you were excited to get to know them. You had everyone under your spell with your first smile but Lee knew something was up, young girls like you don’t just move from big cities to small towns for the hell of it.

It took him a week but he had you, you were running away from your husband, he was a small time criminal but his wrap sheet was one of the longest Lee had seen in a long time. You were only married for six months before you showed up here and he wanted to know why, he was only protecting the town from future problems or at least that’s how he justified it to himself.

You weren’t due to open for another hour when you heard someone at your front door banging to be let in, you were covered in flour from making the cafes daily selection and didn’t really want anyone to see you like this but they were so persistent. Wiping your hands on the nearest cloth you peered out of the kitchen and were confused to see Detective Bodecker smiling through the window at you waving to be let in. You opened the door slightly and got a shock when he barged in locking the door behind him “hey sweetheart I’m glad we finally have time for a little talk” looking up at him slightly confused “I’m not open for another hour Detective can you come back then, I’m a little busy right now” turning your back on him and walking back to the kitchen.

Unsurprisingly he follows you standing a little too close and breathing down your neck “i said i wanted to talk” rolling your eyes you look up at him “and i said I’m busy” turning back to the bowl of blueberry muffin batter and adding more cinnamon, you’re about to mix when you see his thick finger dip into your bowl then into his mouth. He moans as he licks his finger clean and smirks as you visibly cringe at the sight “what the fuck! You can’t do that” you shout at him, furious inside as now you have to dump it all and start again. “Relax sweetheart you can make this my batch I’ll pay you for the loss” before dipping his finger again and pushing it into your mouth as you’re about to protest. You pull your head back and slap him across the face “get the fuck out of my cafe now, what the fuck is wrong with you?” You shout, watching as he wipes his finger across your apron and soothes his cheek “you’re feisty, i like it, we’re going to have some fun darling” and with that he turns and walks out leaving you stood in shock unable to understand what just happened.

A week goes by and he hasn’t been back so you put the little incident down to some sort of hazing and try to forget about it but you can’t, you see him all over town and he always seems to be watching you. You’re not sure what it is he thinks he’s going to catch you doing but he’s always there.

The next day you’re in the florists when you see him walk past and wink at you, enraged by his inability to leave you alone you pay for your bouquet and storm out looking for him. Marching down the street you can’t believe this is the first time in a week you haven’t seen his smug face watching you, you relax for a moment before you feel someone grabbing your arm and pulling you into the alleyway.

Your back hits the wall and you want to scream out but his hand is over your mouth before you can “you looking for me sweetheart?” He whispers in your ear, licking the outer shell and managing to dodge your knee as you attempt to introduce it to his balls. “You are trouble, I don’t like trouble in my town, I like an easy ride. I don’t want your shithead of an ex wandering into town and messing things up” your body stiffens at the mention of your ex and Lee noticing this chuckles “you think I don’t know who you are? Who he is?” You bite his hand to get him off you and suck in a deep breath “he doesn’t know where i am, he’s not going to show up here. Is that why you’ve been following me all across town you fucking creep?” Anger flashes across his face and he wraps his fingers around your throat “this is my town and I’ll follow who I like, do you understand?” You roll your eyes and nod your head knowing you aren’t getting out of this alleyway if you don’t “fine, follow me, see if I give a shit. I don’t do anything interesting anyway. If you’ve got nothing better to do than watch me all day so be it” he loosens his grip and takes a step back, admiring your bravery he doesn’t expect the punch to his gut as you pick up your things and walk away. Too winded to follow he watches you turn the corner and slumps down the wall to get his breath back.

The whole town loves your cafe and you feel settled as your regulars make their way in for their usual orders, enjoying the fancy coffee recipes you come up with everyday and clearing out your cakes by lunchtime. You hadn’t seen much of Lee since that day in the alley but you can always sense him nearby. His smell seems to have invaded your life in so many ways.

Closing down for the day you have your back to the door when you feel some hands wrap around your waist “why did you run away baby?”. Your blood runs cold, his voice makes your heart pound and his grip on you hurts probably leaving purple bruises on your sides, you try to pull at his thumbs to weaken his grip but he knows all of your moves now “baby come on didn’t you miss me?” Swinging your head back into his face he stumbles backwards giving you the chance to run for the back door, running through the kitchen you see Lee sitting on your counter eating some of your chocolate and looking smug “he’s here, he’s out there” pulling out his gun he stalks out to the seating area and sees him sat waiting.

“Well, well Ransom Drysdale what brings you out here to our little corner of the world?” Keeping his gun aimed at the man he keeps you behind him, protected, safe. Ransom sizes him up deciding what his next move will be when he stands moving towards them slowly “i don’t want any trouble. I just want my wife to come home with me, you can understand that surely?” Looking around Lee you scream “I’m not going anywhere with you! Now get the fuck out of my place” Ransom stops and stares at you, shaking his head “always so angry with me, come home and let me make you happy I’ll buy you anything you want you know that. Nothing is too much for my baby”. You grab the second gun off Lee’s belt and step out pointing it at Ransoms head “just leave me alone and go back home you don’t want me, you just don’t want people thinking you’re anything other than perfect” that's all it took he strode towards you unsheathing his blade screaming insults at you when you heard a loud bang and felt a warm splash on your face, looking at Lee he licks his lips “he can’t have what’s already mine and i won’t let anyone hurt you” he says walking towards you and catching you as you pass out in his arms.

You wake up in a hospital bed, your throat dry and your head throbbing. Looking around you’re shocked but not surprised to see Lee sitting in the chair next to your bed eating jelly beans and reading the paper “you’re awake” he says a little too loudly for your liking “Lee, what are you doing here. You took care of him I’m not a threat to your little town I’ll be gone before news travels round” he chuckles at you “oh you aren’t going anywhere sweetheart, we have unfinished business” throwing your head back you look up at the ceiling “what is it with men? Why do you all think you can control me?” He leans forward and licks your ear “you like me more than you realise, sweetheart. I’m patient though, I’ll wait” and with that he leaves, turning and winking at you before he exits.

It’s been a week since the incident, the police have cleared your cafe for opening again and quite a few of your regulars have arrived to help you with the cleanup, smiling at them all you unlock the door to let them in but scream when you see Lee sitting drinking a cappuccino at the counter “what the fucking fuck are you doing in here?” Walking up to him and turning him around on the stool “how did you even get in?” He looks you over checking to see if you’re ok “did you not realise this was my building sweetheart? I’ve got the master key I can come and go as I please” you groan loudly and turn to look at the damage, confused when everything seems normal you look back and see the biggest shit eating grin on his face “you're welcome sweetheart” kissing your head and walking out towards the station you watch him dumbfounded before making drinks for all the volunteers.

That was the start of his weird courtship, it never occurred to him that letting himself into the little apartment above your cafe and leaving flowers on your pillow was creepy, or that one time when he had your car towed because he thought he heard a weird noise one day when you came back from the market. It took him three months to ask you out and another two for you to agree but here you are now, wearing lingerie in his favourite colour excitedly waiting for him to come home. You sat on his sofa waiting to hear the jangle of his keys but they never seemed to arrive, you tried his phone but he didn’t answer either so you sat and waited. Next thing you know you’re being shaken awake by a sorry looking man who you haven’t decided is still your boyfriend, he looks you up and down blushing at the soft green lingerie you’re almost wearing “is this all for me sweetheart?” You scowl at him, angry that he’s almost three hours late and couldn’t send a quick text to tell you he’d be back when he could.

Running his hand down your face you bite the pad of his finger in warning “it was all yours hours ago, now I’m not so sure” sitting up and shifting away from him you try not to smile when he gets on his hands and knees and crawls to you for forgiveness. “I’m sorry there was a case, some kid we’ve been tracking for a while showed his face and I needed to go and see him”. You still won’t look at him so he kisses and nibbles up your leg the way he knows drives you wild his hands moving up your sides and pulling your bra down so he can rub and pinch your nipples relaxing once he hears a gentle moan from you. Kissing higher he licks around your belly button and nips at the flesh “you gonna finally let me fuck a kid into here baby? I can’t wait to see you all swollen with my son” grabbing him by the hair and pulling him up to your face “oh yeah and what if it's a girl?” You challenge him, going soft when he replies “even better, two of you to love for the rest of my life”. You pull him closer to you kissing him deeply, your tongue tickling the roof of his mouth making him jerk his hips forward before you pull back “you still have some making up to do” he smiles and pulls the tiny scrap of material covering your wet folds to one side before licking and nibbling at you like he’s a starving man. Your hands grip at his hair, his shirt, anything that will keep him exactly where he is, he knows exactly what you like making sure to spend as much of his time showing you as he can. He sucks on your clit, his warm mouth covering it before he flicks his tongue over it making you scream out his name, he could cum just from hearing you but tonight he’s going to give you all of him, it’s time.

He quickly strips as you come down from your high kissing your neck and jaw before picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom. You lay down watching him stare at you, you’ve never felt more loved than you do when he looks at you like this he always looks so grateful that you’re with him, he doesn't realise how much you love him. You hold your hand out and pull him down to you giggling when he almost falls, laying next to you he plays with your breasts “i can’t wait until these are full of milk for our baby” moving his hand down lower and rubbing your belly “until this is swollen and I have to care for you” his fingers move down lower, very slowly rubbing soft circles on your clit “fuck Lee, i need you” you whine, he leans down licking and nibbling on your nipple “you gonna let me do it? You gonna let me fuck a baby into you?”. You grind your hips up trying to get more friction “please, fuck please” licking your ear “please what sweetheart?”

Not able to take anymore you grab him and push him down on the bed sinking down on his length, moaning at the stretch before leaning forward and kissing him. He grabs your hips and bounces you up and down, groaning loud at how tight you are. He needs you to come quickly or he’s not going to make it. His finger rubs at your clit pushing you over the edge squeezing his cock tight he cums hard, decorating your walls with his seed. You collapse forward and kiss his face all over, taking your time to appreciate him. He goes to move away but you grip him with your thighs “don't move yet, we have to make sure it all stays inside me don’t we” you smirk at his shocked face before laying on top of him content, already thinking of baby names and picturing the nursery.

[angelanimedesaray]

Wings in the Dark Chapter 6:  Stories From the Dark

AN:  I feel like this chapter should have been posted around Halloween, but there was NO WAY I was waiting that long XD  Also its a bit short, I think, to me, it goes a little quick, partially because I didn’t want to have to write Levi wandering around this little town this whole time having all this meaningless chit-chat meant to fish information, I decided summarizing was best with detail where it counted XD

Characters:  Levi, Fem!Vampire!Reader (Mentioned), Erwin, Various OCs and BG Characters

Pairing:  (Eventual)  Levi x Fem!Vampire!Reader

Warnings:  Descriptions of Violence, Descriptions of Murder Aftermath, Description of Fatal Injuries, Description of Buried Alive, Descriptions of Injuries, Language

Word Count:  5188

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*Levi's POV*

While taking such a sudden few days off might have caused a couple bumps in the way things were developing around HQ, but he knew Erwin would be able to handle it and smooth things over, so he stayed focused on the task at hand.

Stripped of any signia, symbol, or uniform resembling clothes that could suggest that he was part of the military, Levi was dressed in plainclothes, having taken a carriage out to L/N’s supposed hometown early in the morning.  He still arrived with plenty of time in the day to investigate the town and see what he could find on-site, taking in the small, easily overlooked town that was more of a loose collection of homes bordered by farms, with a central farmer’s market to keep some local trade and business going.  Any serious buying and selling probably consisted in a day’s trip to one of the larger towns within Wall Rose, but it seemed they had basic foodstuffs here.  He managed to find a blacksmith tucked away in a corner between a small grouping of houses, as well as an old, empty building that had a weathered carpentry sign in front of it.  So there had been more trade smiths around here, before the town gradually lost those businesses.

Talking casually with the blacksmith informed Levi that a ways past the farms, there was a home that was the reason for most of their outside visitors--people who could afford to would put their elderly loved ones in the care center, and there was a separate building for the mentally ill to live comfortably and get the care they needed as well.  Visitors to the town usually consisted of relatives visiting their loved ones in the homes, or they were descendants that had moved away but came back for the occasional hometown or family visit.

Which meant Levi, having no ties himself and not knowing about the homes, stuck out a bit despite his best efforts.  The communities of small towns were tightly knit and they knew their own, so it couldn’t be helped, and he would have to deal with the fact everyone was going to be curious why he was here.

While talking with the blacksmith, he also heard that the carpentry shop had been the family trade for the Frazier family--the family who lost the daughter sharing L/N’s first name.  With the murder of their only child, there was no one to take on the family business, and the building had fallen into disrepair after the parents had gone to the home outside town.

That had caught Levi’s interest.  They’d been in the home for years judging from the sign alone, and the impression he’d received was that only the well off could supply their own stay at the home, or their family members paid for it.  If there were no children to pay for them, and they’d only been a small carpentry business in a no-name town, how could they afford to be in the home?  He doubted it was by the grace of the community, though it was a possibility considering the tragedy that had happened here.

Moving on from the blacksmith so he didn’t ask too many questions in one place, Levi made a mental note to make his way up to the homes to investigate the still-living parents of the original Y/N.  Making his way to the farmer’s market, Levi perused for any small town hidden treasures and struck up conversations, looking for a town gossip to get talking about the town’s history so that he could eventually hear the more personal tale of the double homicide than the technical report Erwin had scrounged up for him.

While trying to get the man selling the baked goods to be a little more forthcoming, Levi overheard a small group of children, three or four gathered around each other as one of the older children attempted to scare the smallest of the group with a surprisingly gristly tale.

“...clawed at the wood of the coffin, screaming for someone to hear her, too afraid to realize her screams took up what little air she had.  Her fingernails broke and blood coated the coffin, her elbow busted open as she pounded and shrieked for help, but no one could hear her so far beneath the dirt.  Some say she did manage to break the wood, but halfway through the dirt falling on her she couldn’t breathe, and body’s still frozen in her silent scream, so close to freedom, no one above ground aware of the terror she felt before she truly died.  Now, so she doesn’t feel so alone, Screaming Sally’s ghost crawls out of her grave and drags children like you from their beds and drags them into her coffin below ground.”

The poor youngest was visibly trembling, tears of fright in their eyes before one of the other kids shouted and grabbed them, making the youngest shriek and cry as they laughed and continued to pick on them.

“Tch.”  Levi turned to them, a glare in his eyes that he pinned on the older kids who should have known better.  “Oi!  Cut it out.”

Spooked by the scary voice, and even more so by the scary man they saw glaring at them, the older kids bolted, with the youngest running away once they were free of the older kids, most likely to run home and find comfort from a parent.

Levi turned his attention back to the stall in front of him, a woman beside him buying a basket of rolls as he scowled over the childishly cruel display he’d just seen.

“That’s one messed up horror story for kids to be telling each other,” he muttered, paying for a loaf of bread and waiting for the man to finish wrapping it for him.  The woman beside him turned with a small shrug.

“All the children around here know about that stupid story about Screaming Sally.  It’s been around for decades, and at this point, it’s almost a rite of passage to hear it eventually.”

Levi looked at her, sensing he might have someone who would be willing to share if he asked the right questions.  “How did it start?”

The woman sighed, shaking her head.  “Some poor caretaker for the graveyard by the woods about forty years back snapped after that double homicide and started trying to tell people one of the girls crawled out of her grave.  Everyone knows it’s impossible, not to mention the grave was undisturbed when folks checked in the morning after seeing how sincere he was.  They had to put him in the home because he kept insisting he saw it, and eventually the story turned into the Screaming Sally legend the kids are always sharing to scare each other.”

Levi’s head tilted slightly to the side, eyes widening momentarily in surprise as the unsuspected connection jumped out at him.

For the briefest moment, he was looking back up at Kenny years ago as Kenny shared some outlandish story to try and scare him.  When Levi had called out it’s legitimacy and accused him of spewing a nonsense legend that wasn’t even possible, he’d suddenly appeared a little serious, a small frown appearing beneath the brim of that signature hat of his as he gave Levi the reply that now rang in his ears.

“There’s always a little truth to every legend.”

Pretending his surprise was over something else the woman had said, Levi took the chance to try and pry the local story from her.

“Double homicide?  Out here?” Levi asked, suggesting that kind of thing never happened in places like this.

In his opinion, they were more likely to happen out here, since it was so damn isolated.

As Levi took his wrapped loaf, the two started to walk together, just a little further down the path as she indulged his curiosity.

“I know--it’s the darkest stain on this town’s history.  Still unsolved, too--one of those locked room murders I think they call them.  Y/N Frazier and Victoria Schultz.  The Fraziers’ daughter had been out late the night before and came to her parent’s home to rest instead of going back to her own home.  She was sick the entire next day, and her best friend Victoria came to visit her.  Sometime between the moment Victoria and Y/N were in the room together to the time the Fraziers checked in on them a few hours later, some psychopath managed to find their way into the room, tore Victoria apart beyond recognition, and disappeared with the Frazier girl.  Without the Fraziers hearing anything amiss!  The police thought it might have been the Frazier girl, because it was the only possible explanation considering the bedroom door was locked and any attacker would have had to come in through the window, and neither girl made a sound, so perhaps Victoria knew her attacker--but Y/N’s body showed up on the edge of the woods a few days later, poor girl.  They never found out who did it, or what exactly happened.  It still haunts the people in the town who are old enough to remember it.”

As the woman spun the more personal version of the tale, Levi’s mind filled in the gristly details that had been in the report he’d read.  How there had been hardly any blood left in the mutilated girl left behind lying on the bed, but far less in the room than there should have been, how L/N’s namesake had been found lying just within the forest’s edge, neck bruised and broken, as well as several bones, covered in bruises and lacerations.  It was a closed-casket funeral for both.  They had no leads, no one with a motive, no mysterious footprint or shadowy figure seen leaving the crime scene.  They’d just been murdered out of nowhere, and nothing like it had happened anywhere near the town ever since.  It was a sudden, violent anomaly in their history, and one that was going to leave a mark that would never disappear.

Levi said goodbye to the woman with the bread roll basket, standing in the middle of the road with his gaze turned towards the homes he’d been told about, a thoughtful frown on his face.

It seemed he had two reasons to visit this place:  the Fraziers and the caretaker.

Once there, as curious as he was, Levi decided against visiting the Fraziers and asking about the events of forty years ago.  From what he’d been able to dig up, it was likely something that still haunted them to this day, and he wasn’t here to terrorize the elderly.

He did, however, pry into who was paying for their stay at the home.  Once at the front desk, he suggested that he wanted to pay for their stay, asking after the amount it would take and how often, before insisting whatever payments they were making themselves stop so they wouldn’t have to pay out of their own pockets.  At that point, he’d been politely turned down, the secretary informing him that the Fraziers already had an angel donor who was paying regularly for their stay at the home.

“Can I get a name so I can talk to them about splitting the payments?” Levi asked, leaning forward slightly in anticipation.

“I’m sorry, but...angel donors are what we call anonymous donors who don’t have any ties to the family but still pay for their care.  We don’t know who makes the payments, only that they’re made regularly and on time, so Mr. and Ms. Frazier can spend the rest of their days here.  I have no name to give you, not that I could, considering that would be sensitive information,” the secretary said politely, though there was a bit of a chill in her voice brought about by Levi’s questioning.  He ignored it, busy mulling over this new detail.

He had no evidence to support it, no reason to suspect it, but what if the angel donor was L/N?  He knew she was looking for ways to cut costs with how she spent her money, it was one of the reasons she had the tea garden at HQ--it would save her money in the future by cutting costs she spent on things like tea.  And her lack of personal belongings could also be from a lack of money to buy nice things for herself.  What if the money she saved from her salary was going towards the Fraziers’ well-being?

Again, he had no evidence.  It was just a thought, a far-fetched theory, but it was something to take note of and consider, just in case it wasn’t far off the mark.

Getting the hint from the secretary and knowing he was at a dead end as to who was taking care of the Fraziers, at least for what he would find here in town, Levi moved on to the next objective.

“All right, well, I also came to talk to someone in the psychiatric home.  He used to be a cemetery caretaker about forty years ago.”

Recognition immediately sparked in her eyes, as well as a bit of apprehension.  “We’ll need you to sign in, as well as put down a reason for visiting.”

“Fine,” Levi replied, taking the paper she slid over and writing Jacob, no last name--not that he’d have one to give even if he was using his actual name--and then wrote down social visit before handing it over.  Her eyebrows rose slightly and her gaze flickered up to him from the paper, and Levi gazed back at her calmly, waiting patiently for her to at least direct him the proper way.

“Room seventeen.  Follow me,” she said, leading them out the door--since they’d been in the home for the elderly--and a little ways away to the other building that acted as the psychiatric home.  Once inside she led Levi up two flights of stairs and down a fairly long hall to let Levi into the room marked seventeen in white paint.  “Mr. Briarton, you have a visitor,” she said after opening the door, allowing Levi to step into the room and take in a man in his late fifties, early sixties, suspicious pale green eyes narrowed at Levi as he stepped inside.

“I don’t knows you,” the man rasped.

“Jacob,” Levi said bluntly, stepping deeper into the room and staying conscious of the fact the secretary was temporarily lingering to make sure everything was going to be all right.  “I came to hear your story.”

“Hah?  Here to mock an old man?”  Briarton sneered.

“No.  Just to listen,” Levi responded simply.  Briarton sized Levi up for a moment, then looked at the secretary still standing in the doorway and gave a small wave.

“We’re fine, Janice, you can leave now.  I’s knows the rest of you’s is tired of hearin’ my tale.”

“Are you sure, Mr. Briarton.”

“Eh,” he grumbled, and Janice sighed and shut the door, leaving the two of them behind.  “Why exactly are you’s interested in hearin’ my story?  Everyone else says I’m’s crazy.  Locked me up for it, too!”

“I’ve heard the town legends.  Someone I knew used to say there’s always a bit of truth to the legends.  So I’m here looking for the truth,” Levi answered, leaning up against the wall with arms folded over his chest.

“Hmm…” Briarton hummed, contemplating Levi’s reason before he sighed.  “I’s guessin’ you’s already heard ‘bout the murders, if you’s here.”

At Levi’s nod, Briarton skipped over the events that came before, and went right to talking about the burial.  “Closed caskets they’s were.  Victoria had a pine box, Mr. Frazier insisteds on makin’ Y/N’s hisself, out of willow.  We’s buried them midday, six feets down in the grounds, six feets dried earth on those boxes.  I’s told they’s were both dead for sures, no comin’ back--specially poor Victoria.  Schultz’s weren’t allowed to sees hers it was so bad.  Course we’s all thoughts abouts it, we’s all hoped back then the killer’d get caught.  People kept comin’ by till it gots too dark and I’s closed the cemetery for the’s night.  My’s job was to make sure no ones messed with the graves, and I’s was patrollin’ like usual, and for the’s longest time, I didn’t hear nut-thin.  But sometime in the wee hours of the mornin’, as I’s was comin’ up on the girls’s graves, I saw somethin’ movin on the ground on tops of one.  I’s went to yells at them, to tell ‘em kids to scram, cause that’s what I’s thoughts they were.  But when I’s got close enough to see a bit better, I’s realized they’s was comin’ up from the ground--outta the ground.  I’s was frozen in place, watchin’ them’s drag themselves out of the dirt, clawin’ across the ground likes a wounded animal.  I’s was tryin’ to scream, but I’s couldn’t makes a sound.”

Briarton stopped, his wide eyes turned towards Levi.  “Do you’s know how heavy the dirts is on a coffin?  How hard it is to break open a coffin?  Impossible’s what it is!  My’s brother once locked me’s in one to scares me, and my’s mother lost it whens she found out.  I’s was kickin’ and screamin’ for what’s felt like hours tryin’ to break out, but all I’s got from it was bloody hands and elbows.  Ands that was without the dirts on tops of it.  But I’s swears this girl busted out and crawled outta hers grave.  Even if she’s managed to breaks the coffin, she’d’da been crushed bys the dirts.  But she’s still crawled outta hers grave.  She’s stood up, covered in fresh bloods and dirts, and she’s shoved dirt backs into the hole she’s crawled outta like a drunkard, gaspin’ and wheezin’ and wailin’ like a banshee, an’ then she’s disappears into the night.  An’ I’s ran for help, jus’ to get calleds crazy and locked up in here.”

Levi listened to Briarton’s tale in silence, studying the man’s face closely as he spoke to see if the man truly believed every word he was saying.  The terror in the man’s eyes was real, though, as he spoke of the impossibility of the haunting image, and there was no trace of insincerity in his face as he spoke.  He truly believed in the tale he was telling.  Considering the impossibility of it all, Levi also doubted, but he wasn’t going to call him out on in--enough people already believed this man crazy, Levi wasn’t going to add himself to the mix.

He only had one question.

“Who was the woman who crawled out of her grave?” Levi asked steadily, though the crawl of his skin as he said it told him he already knew the answer.  He just wanted to hear Briarton say it.

“Y/N Frazier.”

The day had cooled--in fact, it was starting to feel chillier, the sun frequently hidden by clouds that seemed to be gathering across the sky, hinting at fouler weather on the horizon.  After taking his leave of Briarton at the home, Levi went looking for the now infamous cemetery--infamous in his mind, at least--and had made his way to the grave of one Y/N Frazier, where he now stood in silent contemplation, staring intently at the headstone that had engraved upon its surface the girl’s name, a birthday and date of death that showed she had barely been in her twenties, and a brief, “Beloved Daughter.”

He wasn’t really seeing the grave anymore, though.  His mind was a flurry of thoughts, theories, memories, information...none of the connections he’d made here made any kind of sense to him, but there were far too many to be ignored.  There was something here, something that seemed to be staring him in the face, but he couldn’t see what it was, so he couldn’t use it.  Not yet, anyway.

Maybe Briarton really was crazy, maybe he hadn’t seen Y/N Frazier crawl out of that grave that night and he’d simply snapped like everyone suggested he had.  But there was nothing to have caused him to snap, no trigger.  Not to mention, the sheer coincidence was far too strong to be a coincidence.

So, he entertained the possibility that the bizarre and impossible happened, that Y/N Frazier somehow survived, a mistake had been made somewhere and she was buried alive, and managed to crawl out of this very grave.  Ignoring the impossibility of that scenario still didn’t give him many answers.  If Y/N Frazier was still alive, she would have been sixty, seventy years old by now.  L/N back at the Scout Headquarters was in her early twenties, and very clearly /not dead/.  So, L/N definitely wasn’t this Y/N Frazier.

But that didn’t mean she couldn’t be related somehow.  If the original girl did survive, it would be possible for L/N to be Frazier’s daughter, maybe even grand-daughter, though that was starting to push the theory beyond what he was willing to suspend believing as impossible.

One thing the Screaming Sally horror story had made him remember, and that Briarton’s recounting had brought to the front of his mind to offer him another connection, was the conversation the other day between the rest of his Squad and L/N.

He remembered the tremble in her hand, the stillness in her posture, the flash of soul-deep fear, trauma, and pain in her eyes as L/N had softly stated that her biggest fear was being buried alive.

He had something big here, but he wasn’t sure where it fit in this messed up puzzle he was trying to solve, and was missing some key piece that connected it to something else.  He needed more than ever to see what she was doing in the Underground when she snuck out at night--whatever it was, he was convinced at this point it was the missing piece he needed to make sense of all of this.

But first, he needed to do something that would give him a definitive answer amongst all these legends and tall tales.

It was a new low for him, he knew that.  The entire ordeal felt wrong and filthy on an entirely new level, but it was something he had to do.  No one else had thought to look, to disturb the grave of one of the murdered girls to see if there was any validity to Briarton’s claims, to the stories of Screaming Sally.  Everyone brushed it off as nonsense and went about their day, probably because it was so certain, and it was easier to believe the horror stories were nonsense.

Levi didn’t have that luxury.  He didn’t have the certainty, and the easier route was not the one he was going to take.  He needed answers.  So, he’d returned briefly to Headquarters in order to enlist Erwin’s help to give him the opportunity late that very same night to dig up the grave and settle once and for all whether Y/N Frazier had died.  It would help clear up some of the questions and theories when he found her body in the coffin, and it might put them back at square one in figuring out why this place and this name had been chosen by Y/N, but it would help bring them back to a world that made some sense, and it would help weed out a few questions that these legends and stories had brought up.

He didn’t want to think of the implications if the grave was empty.  He doubted it would be, but if it was...then this entire mess went far deeper than he could ever imagine.

Perhaps that was why Erwin agreed to help him, why he’d paid off the caretaker to make sure the grave was empty but leave the section Levi was going to be in undisturbed until Levi left.  Erwin clearly hadn’t approved of disturbing a gravesite, especially the gravesite of a murder victim, but Levi had strongly believed it was necessary despite his own misgivings, so Erwin had relented.

Now, Levi was in a hole that passed his head, digging the last few inches to the willow coffin Y/N Frazier had been buried in, filthy and tired but determined to get to the bottom.  Just a little further, and he would have his answer.  He would see the bones in an undisturbed grave, fill in the grave once more, go home, wash up, hate himself for a while for doing this to confirm what he already knew, and then go back to trying to figure out why L/N seemed so deeply connected to this place.

He hadn’t found any bodies frozen on its way to the surface, so he could already rule out the legitimacy of the children’s scary story about Screaming Sally, at least.

The shovel Levi was using scraped against something solid, and Levi paused.  Here it was.  He’d found it.

Kneeling down, Levi started brushing away at dirt so he could find the coffin lid, fingers brushing against wood, hand brushing a little harder to smooth away dirt--

He had to pull his hand back as he unexpectedly came into contact with splintered wood sticking up into the dirt, piercing his hand and drawing blood as he jerked in surprise, breath catching.

No…

A few more careful brushes with his hand, and he was staring at a coffin lid that had been busted open, shards of wood buried in dirt, but the hole clearly enough for a person to crawl out of.  He froze where he was as he stared at the sight before him, the odd, irrational fear that a hand was going to burst out of the hole and grasp his wrist strangely flashing through his mind before he pushed it aside.  He wasn’t breathing anymore, an admittedly trembling hand reaching out to pull back the lid, just to double check and confirm what he was seeing.

The grave was, in fact, empty.  The coffin was busted open with gouges that had old red stains upon them, as if it had been punched and clawed through from the inside.

His blood running cold and his breaths shallow, Levi had to fight not to think of the haunting image Briarton had described, the fear in L/N’s eyes, and the mental image of a woman trapped in this grave screaming and crying for help, having to tear apart her own body and defy all odds to crawl her way to the surface, tried not to imagine the terror of being buried alive like this.

Kenny had been right.  There was always a bit of truth to the legend.  He never imagined it would be this much truth, though.

When Levi returned to HQ, the first thing he did was clean himself up and get changed.  Then, he made himself some of the tea L/N had gifted him, choosing one of the blends meant to calm in the hopes that it would help settle his nerves after what he’d seen.

Outside, he might still appear stoic, but inside, he was shaken.

Once he was clean, he had his tea, and he felt he had a better grip on himself internally and he was ready for the conversation, he went to Erwin’s office and very solemnly relayed his findings to the man, who looked no less disturbed by this unexpected turn of events than Levi had been.  They’d expected some kind of secret while digging into the truth about L/N, they hadn’t been expecting a full blown conspiracy on this level.

Once Erwin was up to speed on Levi’s findings, they started to hash out some theories and details, both of them well aware that they were still missing something crucial as they attempted to make a broader picture with the pieces they were currently in possession of.

The running theory they were working with was that Y/N Frazier was L/N’s mother.  It was the most logical connection they could come up with, even though it dumped a whole new slew of questions into this mess.

Why did Frazier run after she crawled out of her grave?  Why not return to her home and family, alive and well?  Why leave the town behind and everyone in it believing she’d died so terribly?  Why never come back to tell who had attacked her and her friend Victoria?  What happened that night forty years ago?  How had she managed to crawl her way out of a grave?  Why had she instead disappeared somewhere inside the walls never to be discovered or heard from again, hiding her true identity remarkably well?  Or more importantly, how had she been alive?  How did she survive those injuries?  Had a mistake been made and she’d been assumed dead?  Was the report faked?

How was the Underground supposed to come into play in all of this, and what part did L/N have in it as well?  If Frazier was indeed L/N’s mother, was Frazier still alive and living in the Underground?  Was that why L/N went down there every now and then?  Why not bring her mother to the surface with her?  Why, when she came to the surface, did L/N take Frazier’s first name and not use her last name?  Why not use her real name?  How did the events of forty years ago play into now, and how had it had an affect on L/N?

As always, whenever they uncovered something about L/N, it always came with a thousand more questions.  They could theorize all they wanted, but it wouldn’t bring them closer to finding the answers that they craved at this point.

And still, despite the shock and the...unease he had felt to find the empty grave and realize the reality of what happened in that town--or at least part of it--Levi still felt like there was another reality altering twist in this dark tale that was unraveling in front of them that would be far worse.  He still felt like they were far off the mark, that the still failed to understand the reality of what they were stepping into.  More than ever, Levi felt there was something dark behind this, and he began to feel the first hints of malice surrounding these secrets.

Whatever L/N was hiding, at this point, Levi knew it had to be dangerous.

Erwin’s concerned eyes probed Levi’s expression as Levi gazed at the empty teacup in front of him, well aware that despite his feeble attempt to calm his nerves and thoughts, he wasn’t going to be able to sleep tonight.

“Levi--” Erwin started to say in a grave tone of voice, but Levi cut him off.  He knew what Erwin was about to say, and he already knew what he had to do next.

“I know.  All I’m waiting for now is for her to make the next move.  This time, she won’t shake me.”

Next Chapter---->

Levi Tags:  @clary-quinn @humanitys-hottestsoldier@whalerus @sunny-flo @thirstyforsometea​

Wings in the Dark Tags:  @regalillegal @animeluver23 @theshylittleelfgirl @queenthorin1 @dilucs-thighs @sociallyanxiousmouse

[knjoodles]

learn to love; jungkook | 01

pairing: teacher!jungkook x singleparent!reader

genre: fluff, angst 

word count: 3K

summary: raising your daughter alone while simultaneously watching your ex-husband live the life of his dreams away from the two of you hurts. badly. it hurts a little less, though, when you find an unlikely friend while looking for help.

lowercase intended

02 | 03 | 04

   “seyoung, please,”  

   being a single mother at this time in your daughter’s life? it wasn’t the best, so to speak.

  to your beautiful seven-year-old seyoung, the local supermarket was a treasure trove of goodies and tasty treats she could barely keep her hands away from. you darted your head in either direction of the breakfast aisle, following the sound of the patter of steps running away from you, just to spot seyoung slipping behind a tower of canned corn and into an ambiguous section of the store. “seyoung!” you gasped, dashing in the direction she went. catching your breath, you found her sitting in the middle of the candy aisle, toying with a bag of skittles and trying to use her small, short nails to tear open the wrapping.  

   “can you stay near me, baby? please?” you walked towards her slowly, placing your shopping basket on the floor and kneeling to meet her gaze. your mouth twitched into a smile as she shook her head in a pout, shoving the bag of candy against the floor in another attempt to open it. you reach your hand to take it from her hands when she pulls the bag towards her again, clutching it to her chest stubbornly.

   “mommy, i want this one!” she whined quietly, kicking her legs and fiddling with the corner of the bag. as you opened your mouth to say no, you realized you couldn’t remember the last time you’d bought something for her. it’s not that raising her alone was extremely difficult — your music producing career had taken off when she’d turned four and you finally had enough money to sustain the two of you — it’s that you were unable to give her the attention and benefits she needed as a child. money that was supposed to be spent on things like an abundance of toys, bags filled with vegetables and spices to make a delicious dinner, adorable slip-ons to match her favorite dress, were all spent on paying for bills, an occasional nanny, and her private school. you weren’t begging for help, but it would be nice.

   “alright,” you sighed, the excitement of getting candy shining through her doll-like eyes. “i’ll buy you the candy, but can you promise mommy you won’t run away like that anymore?” she happily placed the bag in your hand with the guarantee of sweets, letting you drop it into your basket. looking back at her to make sure she understands, you raised your eyebrow, prompting her to nod slowly and rise from the market floor. as the two of you made your way to the cashier, she grasped your pinky, doing what she could to hold your hand. after loading all of your groceries in the back of your car, you drove her to her friend, ailee, so they could spend the rest of the warm, welcoming sunday afternoon together. before you left, she gripped your hands as tight as she could and promised you that she’d be back soon. because she knew how much mommy will miss her.

   you savored her kind words as you slipped into your car once more, running your hands over the comforting leather stitch of the wheel before pressing the gas and driving home. on your way home, you noticed your phone sitting in the cupholder vibrating as someone called you. waiting until you reached a red light, you answered the phone quickly, paying no attention to the caller id — you get random phone calls from other producers about artists you’d be working with in the future, it was something you’d gotten used to by now.

   “hey.” a deep, masculine voice mumbled on the other side of the line. you recognized it instantly.

it was your ex-husband.

   “hi, hoseok. is there something you need?” you asked, a hint of annoyance in your voice. hearing him again after three months was surreal; it reminded you of everything that’d happened with him.  

   “yeah, i was wondering if we could, uh, visit seyoung.” he muttered, obviously tense from your tone.

we. he said we.  

the word we, without you, was the reason why you’d left him.

you found them. that’s all you’d allow yourself to think about regarding him. if you let yourself go further, you may break down in the middle of the freeway.

   “ah, you mean you and yebin? of course. seyoung’s not home right now, but you guys can come and visit her at any other time.” you replied, savoring the fact you’d planned a playdate for her. hoseok and yebin were the last people you wanted to see at the moment.

  you weren't angry that he’d continued with his mistress after the two of you divorced;  you weren’t the jealous type, and frankly, you didn’t want to be with someone who threw away years of love and support for a woman who he’d known for less than six months. you missed your other half, you missed that comforting back hug after a long day at work and the affectionate ear nibbles while cuddling together. you missed the intimate moments, you missed having someone else in the house. you missed having emotional support, as well as a financial one. while hoseok seemingly frolicked with his younger, sexy girlfriend, you were in the studio all day to make sure your daughter has what she needs to have a healthy childhood without a father. and you weren’t even sure if you were doing it right.

   the idea of divorce will never be something a child can digest completely without having questions. hell, it’s not even something an adult can handle without asking questions. seyoung would often wonder out loud about why daddy was hanging out with a second mommy and why the two of you didn’t live with daddy anymore; why the two of you had to downsize and move away. embarrassingly enough, your daughter told her friends about how her parents live in separate houses, thinking it was impressive that she had two houses.  

   “great. yebin’s really been eager to see seyoung again. i think the two of them are really getting along nicely.” hoseok explained, making things worse in an attempt to break the ice.  

   “that’s great. i'm glad seyoung’s taking a liking to yebin.” oh, how you wanted to hiss that you hoped she wouldn’t replace you with yebin the way he did.  

   “you know, you’re reacting to this better than i thought you would,” he replied. bad move.

   “i don’t know how you want me to react, hoseok. maybe, it’s because i haven’t heard from you in three months.” you spat, angry that he even dared to say something like that. what did he mean? did he think you’d welcome yebin, his mistress, the woman he cheated on you with, with open arms? did he think you’d take a liking to yebin the way seyoung did? unfortunately, that’s not how infidels get treated. you two were a team, he randomly got up and joined the opposition, leaving you alone to play the game of life by yourself.

   “you’re right,” he admitted. “i should’ve called or text, but you know how my job is and—“

   “i'm sure if you had enough time to go clubbing with yebin you have enough time to spend two hours with your daughter. hoseok, i will support you in almost everything, but you need to be a part of seyoung's life — and seeing her once in a blue moon won’t leave a lasting memory of you in her childhood.”

he sighed. you could imagine him habitually rubbing his eyes with one hand before running it over his hair; he shakes his head when he doesn’t have anything left to say.  the muffled sound of a woman voice sounded from the other line, making you roll your eyes.  

   “i get what you’re saying. i... i need to go right now, but i promise we’ll come and see you guys soon. bye.” he completely shook off your conversation and it made you angry. how could he disregard something so important?

   “of course you do.” you muttered bitterly before the line went dead. fortunately for you, you’d just returned home, allowing you to frantically throw your groceries on the kitchen island and drown yourself in what sorrow he caused you.

   it had started off like a dream. the two of you had met in your third year of college, him a business and economics major and you a music production major with a minor in audio and sound engineering. you’d bumped into each other at a banal frat party — one neither of you really wanted to be at. he began boasting about his dog back at home, making you erupt in giggles and inch closer and closer towards him as the night grew older. the two of you eventually left the crowded house together, not going to someone’s place, but rather to a local noodle bar, the midnight empty tables and sentient music a great transition from the pounding music and lack of personal space of the party. he joked about how he was never amazing at talking to people, especially women, so he was surprised that you managed to stick around with him for this long — a new record, to quote him directly. his warm aura kept you snug from the cold night, and he eventually took you home, dropping you safely to your apartment. after that night was over, you began to notice him more and more on campus, like a bright color in a mellow painting.

   one day, out of the blue, he drunkenly confessed his feelings for you. ironically enough, the same people had hosted a party in the same frat house a year later. with his intoxicated body pressed up the wall next to you and the thought that you were someone else, he moaned about how much he likes you but you never seem to pick up on his advances. the days following sprouted conversation after conversation regarding relationships, and eventually, the two of you decided to date. you felt as if you were on the top of the world, as if there was nothing stopping you anymore. after you graduated, the two of you rented an apartment together and entered the job market, taking steps together. and, three years later, you asked him to marry you. right in the middle of pasta night, while you were watching the little mermaid together.

   he named seyoung. you can remember exactly when the two of you decided on her name; when you first held seyoung in your arms and the two of you gently admired her perfection. he kissed behind your ear and whispered, “seyoung. eternal.”

   the three of you were like the three musketeers, and life was a never-ending spiral of fun. you were happy, so happy that you were afraid it would go away. it was perfect: you’d wake up to your loving husband snoring softly beside you with your baby girl giggling happily in her crib, watching the spinning sheep on her crib mobile with glee. every single day, the same cycle, but somehow, your family taught you a new feeling of happiness each day.

   you hate this part. of course, all good things come to an end. they have to, because the bad is what reminds you how lucky you are to have the good. you’d thought life was great. seyoung was a very likable toddler according to her preschool teachers, hoseok had recently gotten a promotion, and your career finally felt like it was going somewhere. you’d recently been hired at bighit, working for their new group, txt.  

   it was around twelve in the morning. you’d gotten home late because your team had finished mapped txt’s first mini-album, the dream chapter: star. pulling your coat closer to your frame as you stepped towards your door, you prayed hoseok had put seyoung to sleep. you’d told him that you’d be coming home as late as three in the morning, not knowing exactly how long it would take to decide how many songs would make it onto the album, as some potential songs were songs meant for other groups that were eventually scrapped.  

   you entered quietly, the door creaking at your attempt to open it silently. you weren’t very observant of your surroundings; truthfully, you just wanted to kiss your baby’s forehead and collapse into your bed. kicking off your shoes, you placed your bag on the coffee table, sighing before trudging towards your shared bedroom. it hit you like bricks — you weren’t paying attention to any noises, you weren’t living a cliché romance movie scene, it was completely unexpected. when you pushed open your bedroom door, a nude woman, lean and visibly younger, was rolling her hips on top of your husband’s bare form. it had taken a second to even register: what’s going on? who is she? am i dreaming? yet your silent thoughts were proven wrong as her head turned in fear to see you standing there, silhouette in the doorframe. she swung her leg over hoseok, pulling on the covers as her body fell next to him on the bed. 

  that was your spot.

  hoseok sat up, eyes wide with fear. “(y/n)… i… this-” he scrambled, thousands of excuses flying through his mind as to why he was just caught hooking up with his assistant. someone you, for one, trusted.

   you, like him, were at a loss for words. your soul felt as though someone had ripped it from your chest and slammed it to the ground, trampling on it bitterly. you turned your head, seeing your baby girl sleeping soundly in her crib. one thing remained stable while your entire world came crashing down onto you, and it was her breathing, chest rising and falling rhythmically, eyes fluttering.

  you nearly slammed the door in fury, turning and sliding down against it, trying to catch your breath. you’d never faced this type of pain before, you didn’t know what to do. there was so much to lose and so little to gain.

   your mother had always taught you to not take any shit from anyone, especially not a man. you tuned out the begs and pleads and cries for you to stay with him and stood your ground on a divorce. ‘it won’t happen again’ has proven itself to be a white lie time and time again. you’d gained custody of your child, and hoseok gained all of the freedom the world could allow. it was as if he was young again.

   it’s not that life was all bad for you after the divorce; crown, the song you’d mainly produced with the help of others became a huge hit in korea, festering hundreds of millions of views and charting #1s worldwide. your company credited you along with a couple other coworkers as the reason for txt’s success in the west. and, as txt continued to grow in popularity, so did your paycheck. you were a wildly successful single mom, fearless on the outside, getting there on the inside.

   fast forward to now: you, single mother, barely getting by mentally, struggling with things your daughter is too young to understand. your husband, living a carefree life with his young mistress, the only connection between him and his ex-wife being his child support fund. you didn’t envy him, but you envied his happiness.

trying to kill time, a piece of toast hanging from your mouth, you opened your laptop, an email from seyoung’s teacher popping into your inbox. it read,  

“ hello parents of wonderful third graders! welcome to (or welcome back to) yooseong elementary!

               my name is mr. jeon jungkook, and i have the great honor of having your kids this year. i know that the school year has only recently started, but i’d love to get to know all of you soon! attached to this email are my parent hours along with the introduction handout i gave my students on friday, just in case any of your little stars misplaced it or haven’t shown it to you yet. i’d like for you to sign it and have your child turn it in on monday to ensure that we’re all on the same page! i hope all of you are just as excited for your child’s school year as i am.

               again, if any of you need to contact me for any reason, please shoot me an email at this address! i’ll respond as soon as i can.

thank you,

mr. jeon ”

   his enthusiasm made you smile. nothing comes before seyoung’s happiness, and if seyoung has a teacher which loves his job as much as you love her, that’s all the satisfaction you need. you’re glad, and somewhat relieved, that when you’re not around, seyoung is in great hands.

   quickly writing him back and thanking him for sending the handout seyoung has yet to show you, you closed the tab, scrolling through a news article about txt’s unfinished success story, refreshing your mind on what you already knew about the boys, and chuckling at what facts they got wrong. as you continued to read through the article, an advertisement on the sidebar caught your eye. now, normally, you’re not one to pay attention to them. you’re more of the type to frown at them and spam-click the ‘x’ in the corner until it eventually vanishes. this one was different.

   an advertisement for a singles support group, offering a place for your voice to be heard, and, well, support.

   you hesitated, wondering if you’d be paired with a group of adults with more emotional issues than time per session. reminding yourself of how hoseok’s actions combined with the consistent stress of your job and raising seyoung threatens your sanity on a day to day basis, you put that voice on mute, and promptly clicked away, this time clicking on the ad instead of the ‘x’.

   after all, anything for seyoung.

[skellebonez]

Happy Birthday Kit!!!

It’s your birthday @kitkat1003​ heck yeah! And for your birthday Spirit is going to have a good day because I and many other people love them a lot! I hope you like this fic as much as I loved writing it!

It was possibly the oddest favor Spirit had done for anyone, ever. But, if they were being at least a tiny bit honest with themselves, it sounded like it could have been one of the more enjoyable ones. Well… technically Pigsy said it was “not a favor I’m just asking you to do this”. So. Potato potahtoe.

Specifically he asked if Spirit would “spend the day with him.” That was it. Simple, easy, long to be sure but not as long as many of the other favors that required a fetch quest at the very least. That was the original bare bones request, vague as it was. Just spend the entire with with Pigsy, 9 AM to 9 PM, and they would be right as rain.

And it wasn’t even like that would be hard! They already had work scheduled for the day, helping Pigsy open the shop and working the register. Why, they could even finish up the task while at work, two bird one stone and all that!

At least, that was what Spirit thought. Before Pigsy met them at the shop entrance and announced in a tired voice after chugging some very very clearly fresh and not sweetened coffee-

“Store’s closed for the day. We’re going shopping.”

Store closed.

For the day.

And going shopping.

Going.

Shopping.

Spirit pushed down their immediate shudder of “oh, that’s not what we had planned today and now today is different oh no I was not prepared for this oh dear oh jeepers” that ran up their spine.

“Uh- o-ok… where are we headed?”

“Food market, mostly,” Pigsy said with a shrug as he adjusted a few reusable baskets in his hands. He must have had a lot on the list for the day or he was buying a lot in advance. “Thinkin of hitting up another place or two in the area if we got time, but nothing too strenuous.”

A bit of Spirit’s tension eased from their shoulders and spine at this. They’d been to the market plenty of times before, so even though it was out of the blue it wasn’t exactly that unusual for them. The last time they went had been with Pigsy and Tang, and while their fighting over which carrots looked “good enough” wasn’t the most… fun conversation to be present for, it was nice.

Pigsy had even bought them a snack, insisting there were no strings attached. No favors. Just a snack from a friend to a friend. And that memory was nice… nice enough to help elevate any extra anxiety still lingering in the demon’s spine (that came from the news anyway, the regular anxiety was as there as always).

“Well, best to head as quickly as possible?” They offered, following Pigsy as he lead the way. “Want to get there fast to get the pick of the best vegetables, right?”

“You’re speakin my language!”

~

The market was surprisingly calm and quiet. Maybe it was because it wasn’t one of the usual busy days, or maybe it was because of how early they were in the day, but instead of the loud bustle and clutter and yells of vendors there was just a set of clearly dedicated loyal customers and relaxed vendors making small talk.

“Oh, I forgot to mention,” Pigsy said suddenly as they made their way down to where he would usually buy root vegetables. “They do this sort of thing a couple times a month where the market isn’t open to the public for a couple hours. It’s a little somethin to help out the local restaurants and other businesses who come here for their supplies.”

“Is that why that guy at the entrance looked at me like I was about to steal a child’s lunch money?”

That hadn’t been fun at all. Until Pigsy had stepped up beside him Spirit thought they were genuinely in some sort of trouble they didn’t know about.

Then again. That happened a lot. Thinking they were in trouble they didn’t know about. Pigsy was trying to make sure that didn’t happen as much. “If I could tell their brain to stop it wouldn’t happen at all” was what he said when Spirit overheard him talking to Tang about them.

It wasn’t good to snoop, Spirit knew that, but… it was. Nice. Oddly nice. He wasn’t going to be able to just tell Spirit’s brain to stop telling them things, and before Spirit would be confused and maybe a little horrified at the idea, but after spending so much time with the pig demon it felt. Nice.

Their conversation continued on for a moment, Pigsy explaining what the market on these special days was like and how the deals here were so helpful and every stall they stopped at Pigsy made it a point to keep the conversation going with the vendor himself. Just open enough for Spirit to insert themselves if they wanted, though they didn’t except at the vendor selling oddly colored flowers (which led into a short explanation about how they were made) and an explanation of how many of the dried ones on sale were imported from other countries and difficult to find outside their stall.

They didn’t know why Pigsy was buying flowers, though. At least, not the specific reason. Dried, fresh, some with stems and some with only the heads. Some bulbs as well. Maybe he was going to try some more floral broths or flower infused noodles? He’d done that in the past apparently! And Spirit had watched him made odder things, experimental dishes that didn’t really change much with the old recipes so much as they simply added more depth to them.

Spirit did notice, however, most of the flowers he had purchased were… purple. Or, in the case of one, blue. An odd one out to be sure.

“Alright, we’re done!” Pigsy announced, smiling widely at his haul. Which, all things considered… wasn’t actually as much as Spirit expected. Still, a good haul. “We’re going to put this all away at the shop, I have an appointment with Sandy later but we’re not expected at any specific time so there isn’t really a need to rush.”

“AH, hold on just one moment!” The flower stall vendor said as he came out from behind his stall. “Pigsy, I want you both to have these. For being a wonderful return customer and for the nice conversation.”

Spirit watched as he tucked a purple flower behind Pigsy’s ear, a daisy if Spirit was correct. And then he did the same to them, making them tense in surprise. If they said anything after that Spirit didn’t realize due to their shock, but the next thing they registered was Pigsy gently guiding them out of the entrance.

~

Sandy was more than ready for them when they arrived, urging Spirit inside and to his couch while Pigsy and he talked about… something.

Spirit wasn’t paying as much attention as they normally would when they were immediately swarmed with cats.

Cats on their lap, cats on their arms, cats on their shoulders. Cats. Cats everywhere. So many cats.

“Uh… S-Sandy…” Spirit started, an uncertain chuckle bubbling up as another cat plopped down on their head. “Do your cats… smell fear? Or do I smell delicious? They’re vibrating very violently. And… rubbing against me. A lot. I mean, I know they’re purring but this is weird.”

Sandy turned toward Spirit, covering his mouth to keep himself from laughing at the sight.

“No, no they don’t and you do not,” he said with a shake of his head, and he gave a look toward Pigsy. “You probably got some catnip on you somehow at the market. You’re just their favorite person right now.”

“… oh,” Spirit breathed out, reaching up to pat one of the cats on his lap carefully. The cat let out a trill, rolling onto their back as they pressed harder into Spirit’s side. Spirit couldn’t help it. They gave in to the temptation to quote a video Mei showed him long ago. “… I have been chosen.”

They didn’t even pay attention to Sandy and Pigsy until something on a trey was placed on the table between all of them, the clinking jolting some of the cats and making them roll off Spirit (who was grateful for the use of their arms back).

“So… I was hoping you might want to taste test something I wanted to add to the menu for special occasions that Sandy is teaching me to make,” Pigsy said with a smile, gesturing to the trey. “He actually made these in advance, they take a long while to dry properly, but they’re supposed to be worth it. But I, uh, can’t guarantee anything.”

It was very… purple and blue. A clear cup filled with what Spirit assumed was blue tea and a purple… stick of some kind that seemed to be flowers dipped in sugar? The only thing that seemed to stand out was the tiny cup of what smelled like lemon juice between them.

“The stick is candied lavender!” Sandy explained, gesturing to the hardened blossom. “You can use it to stir the tea and add sweetness or just eat it as is! But before you choose, pour that little cup into the tea.”

Spirit raised an eyebrow, almost wondering if this was some kind of prank. It didn’t feel like Pigsy and Sandy would pull a prank like this but. Well. Who knows… but they wanted to trust that they weren’t so they did as asked, slowly pouring the lemon juice into… the…

“It’s turning purple,” Spirit whisper shouted, eyes wide and awed as the blue tea slowly turned from the brilliant blue to a more brilliant purple from the bottom of the cup up. “What. Purple? It’s purple! The tea changes colors!”

Pigsy chuckled, nodding his head with a wide smile. “Yup.”

“It’s called Butterfly Pea Flower tea,’ Sandy explained, smile just as wide. "Lemon and lime juice made it do that! It’s not really a rare tea, but we added some extra stuff to the lavender that should make it taste even better when you mix it all in. Go on, give it a try!”

Spirit looked between the two of them and picked up the lavender stick and tea cup, mixing them together as they sat back and took a sip.

It was… amazing. Earthy and slightly bitter from the lemon juice. There must have been honey as well as sugar in the lavender stick, bringing a bright sweetness to the drink. There was a bit of spice to it, maybe cinnamon, as well. It was nothing like anything Spirit had ever drank before. It was warm without being too hot, and combined with the purring of the cats surrounding them…

They realized they felt. Good. Not perfect, not completely relaxed. They didn’t know if that was possible. But they felt good. Happy.

“I think… I think people will love this.”

[boymeetsweevil]

SS6 - MYG, FLUFF, 2900w

For @bangtancentricsblogsmain​ because i wanted her to suffer :)

At 3pm, on a Thursday, there’s a knock on Yoongi’s bedroom door. He had come through that very same door not an hour earlier to lock himself away from the world after a particularly draining day. After dropping his bag somewhere on the ground, he showered, removed his contacts, and pushed the laundry waiting to be folded over to the other half of his bed in record time.

Normally he would have joined his roommate and their mutual friend circle who were seated on the couch in the communal living room, eating snacks and watching a game. But this time he begged out with a quiet mumble about needing rest.

When Hoseok knocks, Yoongi makes a feeble sound to signal he’s still, unfortunately, awake.

“What,” Yoongi grumbles. 

He attempts to sit up on one pale elbow and then decides against it. Hoseok’s lips twitch up at how cranky Yoongi is pre-nap before sinking back down as his expression darkens into a pitying and somber mix.

“She’s here. And, uh, she’s asking for you.” Hoseok’s eyes dart back to some unseen spot in the living room.

“Tell her I’m asleep.”

“I know you’re not asleep, Yoongi!” Your voice rings from outside the bedroom and Hoseok cringes sympathetically.

“I’ll just leave,” Hoseok says when you shove your torso through the crack in the doorway.

You wait to start speaking until the bedroom door is shut and the noises from the TV outside wash away.

“Why haven’t you been answering my texts?”

“Sorry, I’ve been busy,” is all you get.

The backpack you carry drops unceremoniously to the ground with a thud and any dregs of sleep cloying to Yoongi’s brain vanish with the sound. It’s with a valiant effort that he shoves his face deeper into his pillow. You cock your head to look at your best friend and snort at him.

Yoongi’s glasses are skewed across his face. There are thin pink lines marring the left side of his face from lying pressed to the wrinkled sheets with glasses on. The platinum blond waves of his hair, normally coiffed styled, are squashed flat against his forehead. Rarely ever does he look this rumpled and it’s hilarious.

“That’s okay, I’ll just tell you what I wrote in the texts,” you say as you make your way further into Yoongi’s small room. 

A look down at your feet shows him that you’ve shoved your feet into the pair of bunny slippers he got for guests you when he and Hoseok first moved in almost a year ago.

“Basically,” you continue. “There’s good news and there’s bad news. Pick one.” You help yourself to his desk chair and swivel it so it faces him.

“Bad news first,” Yoongi says after some deliberation. He pulls the covers up to his chin more securely.

“Smart choice,” you nod sagely. “The bad news is I’m gonna have to paint your face.”

“What the hell,” Yoongi barks.

“But the good news is that I have a new job as a face painter at the kids’ section of the farmer’s market this season!”

“How is that good news for me?”

“It means I’ll be slightly less broke and I can stop asking you to buy me breakfast before our 9am.”

Yoongi doesn’t really know whether to laugh or to cry. Firstly, there’s no way in hell he’s letting you paint his face. You’ve always been shit at drawing and letting you showcase that on his skin doesn’t do him any favors. Secondly, he’s in his twenties and he doesn’t even go to the farmer’s market. There’s no reason for him to set foot on the town commons during sunny Saturdays for local produce, much less to get his face painted next to a pen full of smelly goats and screaming kids. He’s just not seeing the connection between you getting this job and him getting his face painted. He stares at you with the hope that you’ll back off but he finds that you’re just blinking back at him with a huge, proud pretty grin.

For a moment Yoongi wants to smile back like things are normal. He wants to put on a groan and act like he’s annoyed that he’s been “forced” to order you sugary coffee drinks and muffins using his own money for longer than he can remember. He wants to gently muss your hair to see you make that cute shocked face you always make. But he can’t. 

Because if he does all that, he might slip up again like he did last weekend. 

At 10:24pm, Friday of last week, Yoongi told you he loved you while one small bottle of liquid courage was sloshing away in his stomach. After seconds of silence ticked by like the bangs of a gong, you replied. A sing-songy ‘Aww. I love you too, Yoongi’ and a light pat on the arm. Your words were basically the mirror image of his, but somehow also starkly different. Disappointment walked him home early that night and embarrassment laid him low the following week.

But it was just a week, he’d reasoned with himself, you’d hardly notice anyway...

“Yoongi? You okay?”

“No,” he hisses and shakes his head gently to dislodge memories of that pathetic weekend.

“Are you sure?”

“Why do you need to paint my face?”

“For practice! The market doesn’t open for another month but I need to get good. Jungkook said that if I do it really well the parents will leave bigger tips.”

“So Jungkook is behind all this.”

“Yeah,” you chirp. “He’s been really helpful in the last week. Usually I’d vent to you about how broke I am but since you were so busy, I ended up hanging out with Kook. He’s honestly really resourceful and he got me the job really fast.”

The hairs on the back of Yoongi’s neck bristle at the mention of the younger “peer”. Jungkook was a constant presence at group hangouts for a long while but Yoongi could only ever think of him as a friend of a friend. There was something smarmy about the guy’s smile that he didn’t like. And the way he was always draping himself over you, teasing you, buying you food that was all his job. He can’t put his finger on what it is exactly, but something about Jungkook always put Yoongi in a shit mood.

Yoongi curses under his breath. “Why couldn’t he get you a job at the cotton candy station or managing the photo booth or something?”

“What’s up with you lately? Do you really hate the idea of helping me that much?”

“It’s just annoying,” Yoongi huffs childishly from under the blanket.

“Fine, I’ll just ask Jungkook, then.”

“No! Wait!” Your eyes flash with hope. “I’ll do it. Just—don’t bother him. Since he already gave you the job, I mean.”

“Oh, thank god. I felt really bad about asking him for even more help.”

You turn around and pull out a face painting kit from thin air and begin scooting the desk chair towards the bed. When you’re close enough, you frown.

“What?” Yoongi sniffs at his sheets for good measure. All clean.

“Nothing. It’s just...” You look down at the ground and then the chair and then at Yoongi before looking at the chair again. “I usually practice on shorter surfaces so I can get used to working with the kids.”

“Oh, just pull the little lever underneath the chair. Raising and lowering the chair is Hoseok’s favorite thing to do when he comes in here, I swear.”

You reach under the seat like Yoongi instructed, find the little lever, and tug. There’s a low hissing sound before the seat suddenly drops 5 inches. You let out a yelp while Yoongi tries to stifle a laugh at your terrified expression.

“I guess—I guess Hoseok pulled the lever too much,” Yoongi’s voice creaks with laughter. Even when you flick him in the forehead he keeps laughing.

“Yoongi, this isn’t funny. I need to practice.”

“Just so you know there’s no way I’m getting on the floor. I’ve changed my clothes and I’m actually in the bed.”

He knows he’s being a bit of a dick at the moment, but he’s only trying to rile you up. He’s not expecting you to start to get up on the bed after flipping him off. The laundry he placed on his bed that morning to force himself to fold now laughs at him from its position shoved against the wall.

“W-what are you doing?”

“I need to be higher than you to paint your face. And you’re not getting up, right?”

“Well, no. But—”

“So this is where I’m gonna work.”

You shrug like it’s not a big deal that you’re straddling him. Like it’s not a big fucking deal that your soft thighs now rest on either side of his torso, that you casually rest a hand on his ribcage while setting up the painting kit along his sternum. He hopes your hand stays further south only to prevent the rapid beating of his heart from being discovered under your palm.

“What design do you want,” your voice is quiet now that you’re closer. 

Makes sense. No need to yell. But it still drives Yoongi crazy that you’re basically whispering in his ear as you lean over him to grab at the unused cup of water behind the bed frame. You revive your paints with the water while he tries to keep his breathing in check, lest he cause your paints to tumble off his torso and stain his sheets in a pastel rainbow.

“Uhh, how about an old style tiger?”

“Really,” you deadpan, “I tell you I’m just starting to learn to paint and you ask for a tiger?”

“Fine. Stars, then.” He gulps when you look right at him, face flushing to create the perfect pink canvas.

“Oh, I can do that. No reference needed.”

It seems deadly quiet in Yoongi’s room. The sounds of the living room long since died down when a crowd favorite started playing and captured everyone’s attention. Now there’s only yours and his intermingled breathing and the sound of your brush tinkling against glass.

You lean down from your perch to focus on carving out a swatch of night sky to blanket Yoongi’s stars. Your breath softly puffs low against his left cheek at the same moment the wet tip of the paintbrush hits his skin. His breath hitches a little and he’s not sure which is the culprit.

“Hold still, okay?” Your words come out in a whisper. 

“Okay,” he whispers back.

Minutes pass and two shaky stars are born on Yoongi’s cheekbone. You shift around on his chest to stabilize yourself and in your movement you lose your footing a little, your right leg slipping off the edge of the mattress.

“Ah—”

“I got you,” Yoongi grunts a little as his hands fly to your hips.

He easily stops your momentum and your paints, clutched desperately in your hands, remain safe from the ground. The pads of his fingers are still dug lightly into the meat of your hips and waist. In that moment you remember just how big Yoongi’s hands are.

“T-thanks.”

“No problem.” 

A slow grin spreads on Yoongi’s face when he notices that suddenly you can’t make eye contact like you were just a few moments prior.

You do your best to continue, but your gaze keeps flitting to his, only to find that he’s already looking at you. It sets something hot aflutter in your chest. The points of the stars that you thought you had a handle on turn soft and wobbly once more. 

“Look up,” you ask when you’re out of other options and keep having to paint over your work.

Yoongi has to bite his tongue to keep from chuckling at how jittery you seem. It feels good to know that the effects of this proximity are mutual, that you’re feeling just as lightheaded from sitting in his lap as he is from having you sit in it.

“You almost done?” He drawls. He’s been counting the small irregularities in the paint on his ceiling to keep entertained.

“Uh, yeah, almost.”

He feels the cold kiss of the brush tip once, twice more before it returns to its makeshift home of the water glass with a clink.

“Do you...wanna see what it looks like,” you sit up then. 

There’s a small hand mirror across the room that you’re eyeing. But he stops you with a squeeze to your hips, reminding you that his hands have been resting there this whole time.

“Just use my phone,” he nods to the device lying abandoned in the sheets. “Take a picture.”

“Okay.”

For some reason, your hands are shaking even with the paintbrush gone and the need for focus lifted. Mechanically you wake Yoongi’s phone from sleep and access the camera app to take a photo, shifting your weight to your knees to get above him and snap a pic. Curiosity makes you open the photo album app to see the photo you just took instead of showing it to him first. The result takes your breath away. 

Yoongi looks blissfully content, almost smugly so, as he gazes up at the camera. The stars under his eyes and on the bridge of his nose look like glowing yellow freckles amidst the banner of deep navy and rich purples you used to craft the sky across his cheekbones. The paint looks good and it’s probably even your best job yet, but you can’t help yourself from looking elsewhere.

Yoongi’s tousled bed head, soft sleep shirt, and dreamy eyes bring a cloud of butterflies to your stomach. The final killer touch of the photo is the fact that your knees just barely enter the bottom of the photo. Yoongi’s hands rest on each one like they belong there.

“Yoongi.” You breathe his name like a sigh and that’s when he surges up, as if to catch his name on your lips.

The kiss takes you by surprise and you tumble down to him in a soft pile of limbs. He hums a long, pleased sound when your weight settles on top of him. The hands he had on your knees suddenly grow restless and they amble up your thighs, up your waist, around your back. His hands are ever busy gliding over as much of you as they can in the moments that you let your lips press firmly against his.

Idly you pick out the details you notice with your eyes drifting closed. Yoongi’s breath leaves his nose in puffs against your face and his sighs echo quiet in your ears. His hair is soft between your fingers and so is the collar of the worn shirt that he’s wearing. The sheets that have raised around you like makeshift linen mountains smell just like Yoongi’s sweet soap, warmed with sleep.

“Shouldn’t we—”, he plants a kiss on your mouth, “shouldn’t we talk about this,” you mumble against his lips.

Yoongi’s hands stop in their tracks along the midpoint of your spine. The sigh he lets out is long suffering.

“Sorry. I just—I got carried away.”

“I mean, you don’t have to apologize for it. I just...thought you saw me as a friend.”

“Do friends confess their love for each other? That’s new.”

“L-love?” Your eyes turn wide and starry. “When have either of us ever confessed our love?”

“Well, I did. At the bar. Or did you have to block that memory out?”

Your brow furrows at the self-deprecating turn his smile takes and you clasp one of his still-wandering hands.

“You mean—Yoongi, I thought you were just being mushy. I thought you meant, like, ‘I love that we’re all here together as friends right now’. If I had known that was a real confession,” you trail off.

“You what?” 

Yoongi’s mood elevates once more, enjoying the sudden turn your rambling is taking. Teasingly he bucks his hips under you, startling you out of your bashful silence and forcing you to press two hands to his chest for balance. A cute little sound leaves your lips and he’s tempted to do it again.

“You were saying,” he grins up at you and his hands start to wander once again.

“I would have—”

“Baby, speak up.” He’s all coos but there’s a little venom in his voice. He likes how embarrassed you are.

“I would have left with you that night. If I had known.”

His shirt wrinkles up where your fingers twist anxiously. Normally you trample through Yoongi’s space, no shame or hesitation in the way you leave him on his toes. It had always been a fun game for you to see how close you could get before he’d have to draw a line, before his besotted smile would become too hard to hide. But now you’re not so sure you can handle it directed at you in all its glory.

“That’s a nice idea,” he says. 

In one moment he looks like he’s really weighing the idea, serious in his appraisal. The next moment he’s tugging you down when you least expect it, bringing a corner of the blanket to envelope you both. Under the cover of weak darkness, he threads a hand through the hair at the base of your neck. 

“Why don’t you tell me about it?”

[sxfterhearts]

35. [4:28 pm]

➳ pairing: youngjae x reader

➳ genre/warnings: fluff, royal!au, prince!youngjae, lady!reader

➳ word count: 1,496 words

➳ summary: 35. “After you.”

➳ author's note: hello angels! i’m so so sorry for my recent absence, uni has been really busy. here is a youngjae fluff to make up for it! this is my first time writing this au so i’m excited to share this! it was a lot of fun and i got really inspired by nbtm + the wildflowers i saw on my trip :)) have a nice day and week lovelies <333

//

“After you,” Youngjae said breezily, a royal blue, satin covered arm coming up to brush a stray branch aside, clearing the path ahead for you.

“No,” You shook your head with a faux frown, refusing. “After you, Your Royal Highness.” Insistently, you rooted your leather high boots firmly onto the ground, not moving an inch.

“C'mon, Y/N!” He sighed exasperatedly, dramatically. Youngjae always harboured a burning hatred for formalities. “I know you liked our old spot at the top of the hill, but I swear you’ll love this place even better. I just want to show you a part of this kingdom that you’ve never seen before!” A glint of excitement flashed across your eyes at the mention of exploring another corner of his family’s vast lands. Sensing that you were about to cave to his request, the Prince hastily interlocked your fingers with his, guiding you through the dense forest just beyond the edge of the Royal Gardens. “Besides, as your host, I ought to bring you someplace that didn’t make you sneeze your brains out every other minute. The canola fields have triggered your allergies ever since you were a child.” Youngjae added.

“But I like the canola!”

Youngjae scrunched up his nose in distaste. “Well, I certainly don’t like explaining to your maids why their precious Lady turned into a swollen, slimy tomato by the end of our evening together and–”

“Okay, fine!” You squeezed his hand to signal your defeat. He couldn’t see your resigned, dejected look, the one that you wore every time he won an argument, but if he did, you’d bet on every single horse in your stables that he would clutch his stomach and double over in boisterous laughter. “You’ve said enough. Point taken.”

Satisfied, the Prince continued to lead you further into the forest. His pleasing, melodic whistles (charming renditions of folk songs, you supposed) were in harmony with the tunes of the lively forest. Your ears could easily pick up on the airy whispers of rustling leaves, the sweet sopranos of chirping birds and the trickling stream singing in an allegro tempo. It was shaping up to be quite an orchestra, with the one and only Youngjae taking centre stage as both lead singer and conductor.  

Throughout the far-reaching kingdom ruled by the Choi dynasty, Youngjae was known as the precious youngest son of the reigning monarchs. The boy made quite a name of himself by gracing those around him with his sunshine smile and bright personality. There were even poems and songs written about the Prince’s ability to shine his brilliant light onto his people’s lives. Many claimed that the Prince had a heart of pure gold, as he would often roam beyond the gates of the Palace, interacting with the locals by personally buying his art supplies from the markets, painting murals and paintings for the young and old, and lending a hand whenever a carriage got stuck in mud or when an old grandpa strained himself while moving large crates of vegetables. The people often muttered under their breaths about how it was such a shame that Youngjae had little chance of claiming the throne, for he was the last in line after his elder siblings. But the Youngjae you knew and grew up with had never set his sights on being King. Ever since spending that first summer in the Palace with his eleven-year-old self, you were certain that he was meant for even greater things. Youngjae loathed politics and diplomacies. He hated pretending like someone he wasn’t, just for the sake of strengthening relations and maintaining peace. All Youngjae wanted to do was to live a carefree life and practice his art.  

“We’re nearly there, My Lady,” Youngjae chirped in his best impression of a maid. “Just have to cross this tiny little stream.” The young royal came to a halt before the gushing stream, his free arm circling around your waist securely.

Your mouth went dry in an instant. The body of water a few steps ahead of you seemed like anything but a tiny little stream; it was fervently licking at the banks, swallowing and chomping up any leaf or branch or insect that stood in its way. You were deafened by the relentless roars of rapidly flowing water, causing you to shrink into his side in search of safety. Petrified, you glanced upwards at the Prince, shaking your head slowly to get your point across. You did not like this, not at all.

“I know you’re scared, Y/N, but I won’t let anything happen to you. Trust me. I’ll hold onto you so tightly that we’ll be stuck together like two peas in a pod.”

“But I… I don’t…”

“You’ll never get hurt, not on my watch.” Youngjae declared resolutely. He knew; he could tell from your shallower breaths and widening pupils that you were afraid of falling in, just like you did five summers ago. You and your brother loved spending time within the Palace’s walls, but you had taken a special liking towards the koi pond right at the heart of the Royal Gardens. Each summer when you returned to the Palace from your home in the Northern Lands, the trees and the flowers and the design of the Gardens would change beyond recognition. The pond was the only thing that remained untouched, year after year.

You used to love sitting by the edges and feeding the koi fishes or testing out your paper boats with Youngjae and your brother. You could stay there for ages, from sunrise until sundown. That is, until you accidentally tripped into the pond and nearly drowned. After that, you avoided it like the plague.

“If you’re really not comfortable with this, we can turn around, no big deal.” Youngjae reminded you in the gentlest voice he could muster. The stream was barely a meter wide, with a large sturdy rock smack bang in its centre, but he knew; he could feel the hesitation radiating off your skin. He was aware of how the minutes seemed to drag into hours as you gasped for air that afternoon, your feet straining and struggling to reach the bottom. Youngjae knew that the memory still haunted you.

Your clammy hands clawed onto his back, your fingernails leaving deep imprints through his luxurious tunic. Sensing his eagerness to show you this new hideout of his, you tried your best to swallow your fears and gave him a slight nod.

“You sure? We really don’t have to.”

“I swear, Choi Youngjae,” You whispered impatiently. “If you don’t move right now, I’m going to change my mind.”

He chuckled at that, all melodious and warm. His laughter felt like a blast of sunshine on a cool spring day, which did wonders to ease your nerves. He wasted no time in holding you close to his chest, similar to how you would position yourselves when dancing side by side in the Palace’s ballroom. “It’s a lot like dancing, really.” Youngjae said, inching towards the very edge of the stream. “You just have to coordinate your steps with mine. We’ve done this before a million times. Now, right foot, oh yes, your right. Okay, ready? Take a big step and –”

Your feet moved in perfect unison. The two of you arrived on the rock in the blink of an eye. “We made it.” You breathed out in disbelief.

Youngjae simply cradled you snugly in his arms for several moments. You relished in the immeasurable amount of security you felt being with him, while he grinned smugly at the sight of you finally overcoming your fear. “I told you so,” He pressed his lips against your ear and whispered.

The rest of the journey only took another five minutes. Before you knew it, you arrived at a small yet breathtaking clearing in the forest. The ground was decorated with a plethora of wildflowers emerging amongst tall grass, specks of white and gold and pink everlastings flooding your entire vision. In the middle of the clearing sat a large rock and a fallen trunk, the ideal place to sit down, catch your breath and take in the wondrous scenery.

Which was exactly what you and Youngjae did for the rest of the late afternoon. You drank from your flask of elderflower cider while inhaling the fragrant, floral perfumes surrounding you; Youngjae chewed on the end of his sketching pencil while also crafting a rough sketch of you in his notebook, resting on the trunk. You laughed and you talked, all while sharing a loaf of buttered rosemary bread you swiped from the kitchens this morning.

Much to your pleasant surprise, you didn’t let out a single sneeze. Not even when Youngjae passed you his sketch for your inspection and placed a white flower behind your ear. This was exactly why he brought you here, he claimed.

He was right. As it turned out, you loved this place the most.

[sserpente]

24 little kinks | Doors 3, 4, 5 🎄

“You remember that chocolate advent calendar I got you for December?”

“I do,” he chuckled and pressed a tender kiss to your temple. “You made me display it in the kitchen so I would not eat it all at once.”

Your smile widened. “How about we get another one?”

Loki raised an eyebrow, only now paying proper attention to the sex toy ad. Then, he frowned. It was an odd mixture of disgust, genuine curiosity and even a hint of arousal flashing in his blue eyes.

NSFW warnings: use of handcuffs and blindfolds

-

The God of Mischief blinked at you, both unbelieving and indignant.

“You will not dare stop now, will you?”

“Loki…” You knew how quickly you could make him cum to give him some quick relief from all your teasing but that would not satisfy him. Loki wanted to ravish you, he wanted to fuck you until you were unable to walk… but your sense of responsibility rang in your ears strongly.

“We are not done.” He did not need to nod down to his aching erection but his point was clear. His gaze was piercing, threatening, his nostrils flaring. Loki would be angry if you interrupted your lovemaking now but what other choice did you have? People’s lives might be in danger… and there you thought December would be a time of peace.

When he realised you were indeed not coming back to bed, he growled. Irritated, he stood himself, flicking his wrists to get dressed. His full amour wrapped around his handsome body, covering him wholly… and yet failed to hide the giant bulge in his black leather trousers.

He offered you his hand which you took, earning you a sigh and teleported you both to the compound.

Only the fraction of a second later and a funny tingling on your skin as Loki’s magic faded away, you found yourself standing in knee-deep snow, the falling flakes almost as beautiful as Loki when he slept next to you. Oh, cheesy… but it was the horror unfolding in front of you that made you gasp.

A large hole had been torn into one of the thick walls, foreign creatures snarling as they poured inside like crabs being washed away from shore—how many? One dozen, two dozen maybe? You could swear you had seen them before. From afar, they looked a little like…

Loki pushed you behind you protectively the moment he realised. Those were Chitauri. His still aching erection forgotten and arousal now quickly fading, his instincts took over. Two sharp daggers materialised in his hands, his jaw clenching.

“Are those… h-how? Where do they come from?”

“We will find out.”

He tossed you one dagger which you caught skilfully. Loki had taught you how to use just a small dagger to your advantage. You fought your way through to the Avengers rapidly, taking only a few bruises and a cut on your calf. Nothing Loki would be unable to heal for you later.

“What took you so long?!” Tony bellowed, his voice mechanic due to his Iron Man suit. Steve flung Thor’s hammer at one of the Chitauri, killing it instantly before he darted forward to give him cover.

“Where the hell are those things coming from, Reindeer Games?” Loki’s dislike for the nickname he had chosen for him showed when he slid a passing Chitauri’s throat. But what irritated him even more was that he did not know. Most of them had died along with their abomination of a planet back when Stark destroyed it and Thanos was dead.

There were only a handful of them left, with the heroes all flying and jumping around to end them quickly and Loki destroying most of them. The dreadful silence spreading in the compound when the last disgusting body dropped dead to the ground rang in your ears like the screeching of a bat.

“What on Earth happened here?” You said breathlessly, leaning against Loki for support. Natasha pursed her lips when she saw.

-

They had attacked out of nowhere, remembering whom they had dealt with back in New York, so you learned when you sat at the huge glass table in the conference room, clutching a hot cup of coffee. It would explain the explosions you had heard on the phone.

“Do you have any idea where they came from?” You asked Loki quietly. You were pretty much the only one speaking to him like you would to any other civilised person. The God of Mischief lifted his chin, leaning back as his blue eyes briefly locked with Thor’s.

“They might not be the only ones who survived. More of them could be hiding here on Midgard.”

“Where?” Tony probed.

“They prefer dark places, preferably underground.”

“The sewers.” Natasha concluded.

“That could be an opportunity.”

“I’ll contact the local sanitary district. They can give us instant access to copies of the ground plans of the sewers. FRIDAY will have them within the next hour.”

-

“(Y/N), you are coming to our Christmas dinner, right?” Tony asked. While FRIDAY was doing all the work and searching for any alien abnormalities in the country over the last couple of weeks, the Avengers took the time to finally take a breath again.

Fighting creatures from outer space had long become a routine—and none of them were willing to let the jolly Christmas spirit escape through that giant hole in the wall.

“Of course… if I can bring Loki.”

“If he behaves,” he retorted grumpily. The God of Mischief rolled his eyes in response in an annoyed manner, resulting in Thor patting his back fiercely.

“Well, that’ll be fun, brother. We’ll stuff ourselves with turkey, open those Christmas crackers (Y/N) brings every year, play some games and drink mulled wine and chocolate fruit… you will love this Midgardian holiday.”

Loki said nothing. He had been quiet ever since the attack, only speaking a few words if necessary. His bad mood infected you. A particularly hard blow from one of the Chitauri had caused you a growing headache, a slight concussion maybe.

“Let’s go home.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around his body. “Call me if there’s any news. We’ll be here in a heartbeat.”

“Dr Cho should treat your wounds.” You shook your head quickly.

“Loki can do that.”

“Alright then... Anyhow, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can enjoy some mulled wine and fucking celebrate Christmas like we should.”

“Language…” Steve muttered. You nodded. Mulled wine sounded like a great idea, a Christmas market even better. You’d have to come up with something to comfort Loki after your prompt departure this morning after all.

-

His magic made it worse, the pain rippling through your head when he teleported you back into your bedroom nearly forcing you to your knees. Loki scooped you up like a bride when he noticed your growing weakness, making you lie down on your bed. His piercing blue eyes scanned your body so fast you shifted uncomfortably, hoping he would not find any major injuries.

“I took a hit on the head, should be fine in a few hours…” His gaze was strict, palm coming up to touch your forehead and ease your headache before he tended to your calf.

“Loki… are you okay? You’re being unusually quiet.”

“I am bursting.” You glanced down. He was still hard.

“How were you able to hide that from the Avengers?”

“You should be familiar with my illusions by now.” His voice changed. It became hoarse, demanding and darker, luring you right into doing his bidding—especially if that included you naked.

Both of you could tell you were in no condition to bring him release now. Besides, despite his erection, the moment was gone. There was a problem at hand—with aliens Loki would have preferred never having to see again.

A sigh escaped his lips as he joined you on the bed, pressing you against his strong body.

“Sorry…” Your eyes fell shut. “That’s not how I imagined our December to go.”

“Shh… never apologise, my sweet.” A small smile tugged on your lips when you fell back asleep to let your body recover.

 -

The following days were no better. You woke to countless messages from Tony, busied yourself with meetings and first searches down in the sewers. You only hoped that their suspicions were right and the Chitauri were indeed hiding underground—not to mention the tube in New York. As long as you were unsure every last one of them had been maimed, people’s lives were in danger—and that was hardly ideal at this time of the year.

Steve had roped Loki and you in so much you even forgot about opening your advent calendar. Well—Loki did not forget about it. Every morning, after your coffee had woken you up properly from the lack of sleep and time for yourselves, you noticed one box missing. You did not know where they had gone but surely, Loki was up to something. If he knew what he unpacked every morning, that was.

The fifth of December was a Thursday. None of you had had luck thus far in tracking down any remaining Chitauri—if there were any—but slowly, the government started to panic, wanting this issue to be resolved when all you wanted was a break from the humid air underground, all the dirt, vomit-up, rat shit and other emetic smells, not to mention the darkness.

This was not how you had imagined your pre-Christmas time to be. Furthermore… well, not every couple had sex every night and morning. But the advent calendar you had bought was inspiring and it tore your nerves apart that even in sleep, you were unable to rest properly.

Loki’s unease infected you. The Chitauri reminded him of his time with Thanos and whenever he suffered, then so did you. That was what tired you both.

You flinched when your phone rang, forcefully ripping you from slumber. Loki growled. With a flick of his hand, he switched it off and rolled over, preventing you from stirring.

That night he had healed your concussion and that bleeding cut on your calf, he had relieved himself under the shower after you had fallen asleep. He needed you today—and he knew how much you needed him too. Both of you had to relieve some stress and that advent calendar you had suggested to buy would help you do just that.

Yesterday’s door contained a blindfold. The day before it was lust-enhancing lube which could also be used as massage oil. This morning… Loki had removed the box last night already and hid it under your bed. Handcuffs… this morning he would make sure you both relaxed.

You were still half asleep by the time Loki gently took your wrists and held them down above your head. In this state, you were too tired to question him—right until you suddenly felt something soft around them, locking you to the bedpost.

“Loki?” Your eyes flew open. You glanced up to spot a pair of plush handcuffs immobilising your hands all the while Loki already busied himself with your sleepwear, slowly pulling it off your body.

“Lights out, sweet one…” He mused hoarsely. You gasped when he slipped the blindfold on you, leaving you completely at his mercy.

“S-so that’s where the boxes went.”

Loki chuckled. “You are not surprised, are you?”

“Never, Trickster.” You shivered when he removed the covers, exposing your now naked skin to his greedy eyes. You could tell he was licking his lips without even seeing him.

He had to admit, the surprises the advent calendar had revealed in the last three days had played right into his cards. Robbing you of some of your senses was the perfect way to take your minds off things and make you relax for him—and if anything, Loki wanted you to feel as good as you made him feel.

The massage oil smelled like fresh coconuts, like that shampoo you had used at the beginning of the year. It warmed quickly in his hands when he poured it into his palms, then spread it all over your abdomen.

Your breathing was shaky already. He grinned.

Loki shushed you when you squirmed and bucked your hips up to meet his touch. “Patience, my sweet…”

“W-what is that?”

“Massage oil,” he explained briefly. “Now close your eyes and let me pamper that beautiful body of yours.” Let me prepare your wanton quim for my aching length… he added silently.

In any other universe, Loki could have been a massage therapist. Magical big and soft hands explored your curves and found your knots, focusing on the muscles which needed his attention the most. Not a single body part was left out. He massaged your thighs and calves, your feet and your arms, your hips, your hands… his own breathing growing heavier the closer he inched between your legs.

You were dripping by the time he paid proper attention to your clit, circling it lazily and applying just enough pressure to make you bucked your hips again, a scream escaping your lips when he slipped two fingers inside your warmth to test your wetness. You were so close… the knot tightening in your stomach warming your whole body from head to toe, making you ready for waves of pleasure cursing through your limbs…

You moaned his name when you fell from the cliff, your tight walls clenching around his fingers as he fucked you through your orgasm, kneading your clit firmly. He chuckled once more. With him, lust-enhancing lube was redundant.

“Loki, please…”

Your voice sounded like music in his ears. Freeing his pulsing erection from his trousers, he positioned himself between your legs, his tip, leaking pre-cum already, pressing against your wet and awaiting entrance. Power surged through him as he watched your blindfolded form awaiting his next move.

He sheathed himself inside you with but one firm thrust, his hands grabbing your hips for support. You moaned again, your cunt welcoming him as he retreated and rutted back into you, quickly finding a pace that made you both lose your minds.

The fact you could neither see nor touch him aroused you both even more. Never before had you felt such intense pleasure. Your wrists were getting sore from pulling at the handcuffs so much but you couldn’t care less. Knowing Loki was in charge and could do to you whatever he pleased felt so exciting by the time he was about to cum your body had already recovered for another orgasm.

You reached your high together, Loki groaning as he spilled himself inside you and his cock twitching against your walls as he filled you with your seed. You contracted around him, milking him for all he was worth until he collapsed on top of you completely spent, quickly waving his hand to free you from those handcuffs—even if he wished he could keep you like this for a while longer. Well… there would be a lot more time until Christmas.

“Thank you.” You murmured when he removed the blindfold for you and had you snuggle up against him. You didn’t thank him for the sex. You didn’t thank him for the orgasms… Loki and you were like two magnets, unable to resist one another. The closeness and body contact meant so much more than sex… and so did taking your minds off things before you returned to the exhausting life as an Avenger.

You had ended up as one of them by coincidence. You had no superpowers, no magical hammer that only you could lift and you did not turn into a green monster. You were merely a young woman with martial arts experience, pride and a sense for doing the right thing without being as self-righteous as Steve or as selfish as Tony had once been—you were somewhere in between, neither hero nor villain—which was one of the many reasons, so Loki had admitted to you once, why he had fallen in love with you.

-

A/N: Door 6 will be opened tomorrow, on December 6th!

Check out my blog to find more Imagines and take a glimpse at my first (to be) published novel! Also, if you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

[lovelylunarwriting]

Yangyang Prince!AU

Yangyang’s known around the kingdom as less of a prince and more of “the king and queen’s child”

He’s just not the princely type??? He 10/10 looks like a prince and -33/10 acts like one

While some royalty just have that "aura” about them,,,, Yangyang does not

But that’s not a bad thing! He’s incredibly approachable as a person

Not a soul would dare to address him as anything but “Prince”, though, for fear of him overhearing and being like “excuse me what the fuck did you call me”

While the country itself adores the prince and his natural personality, the king and queen take issue with his “lack of royal precedent” and hold him to a ridiculously high standard.

He doesn’t seem to let this dampen his spirit, though. Whenever local newspapers ask him about it, he always says “I’m firstborn and in line to the throne. There’s not much they can do about it regardless if I keep filling the courtyard fountains with soap so that they bubble. Who doesn’t like bubbles?”

Deep down though it takes more of a toll on him. In his eyes, it’s like his parents are saying he isn’t good enough to be king one day.

The reality is that they’re just worried that being in charge of the nation will stress him out like it has them, and they want to prepare him the best they can.

To prepare him for his eventual role, they send Yangyang into the nearby villages to meet with traders from other nations who want to open up shop in the many marketplaces.

Yangyang’s nation is known for their vast and varying markets because they’ll let just about anyone open a business as long as a member of the royal family approves it.

They go about doing this in two ways:

One, they can request an audience with the king and queen and they’ll write up a contract. The king is pretty much there for show, the queen is really the one who’s built this trade empire.

Or, two, if the person is in a rush they can schedule to meet with Prince Yangyang in town and plead their case to him. If he thinks it’s an extenuating circumstance, they essentially get a “Prince Fast-Pass” and receive an immediate audience with the king and queen. 

For example, he had one woman who was a refugee from a war-torn nation across the continent and she came to their country to open up a shop to provide for her and her four kids. Yangyang was like “that sucks, I’m sorry. Do you wanna talk to my mom about it?” and personally escorted her to the palace.

You have been in this market for a  h o t minute though. You got your audience with the king and queen when you were like,,,, twelve?? And you’ve been selling your family’s farms produce ever since.

One of your parents would’ve gone to the audience but there was a Very Serious Ladybug Problem going on with the tomatoes so they sent you instead (the queen was surprised but you presented a fair argument for the business,,,, she had no reason to say no)

So you set up your market every week, Monday through Friday. The weekends are for helping around at home (and sleeping off the work week, of course)

This season’s harvest hasn’t been nearly as plentiful as the previous. It’s not that there’s a shortage necessarily, just that the last season’s harvest was abnormally abundant. 

Which of course means you’ll have to sell pretty much all of it to get a similar profit to last year while keeping the same standard prices (raising the prices wouldn’t be fair to your loyal customers)

“Guess there goes my Saturdays, then…”, you mumble to yourself, deciding to open up the extra day in order to sell every single tomato, carrot, and head of lettuce even if it kills you.

The first Saturday of the season comes and goes with no trouble, and so does the next.

But the third week. That’s when you notice him.

The pickpocket in the bright yellow shoes.

He weaves his way through the crowd with elegance and ease, reaching out here and there, plucking items from stalls, pockets, and displays,  slowly putting them in his pockets.

You find yourself entranced, staring at him slip through stall after stall.

That is until he steps up to yours.

He glances up, making eye contact with you, and flinches.

Apparently your glare was most apparent than you’d intended.

You don’t say anything though and neither does he. He just smirks at you and makes his way to the next stall.

Your eyes follow him and you see him swipe a pair of earrings off the man’s table to your left.

You might’ve said something but:

1.) That particular jeweler is a creep to the women in town so he deserves to be robbed in your opinion, and 

2.) If you snitch on some thief, that only makes you a target to whoever the thief is associated with. You don’t know if he’s got some thuggish friends and you’re not looking for a fight.

That is unless he decides to try and steal from you. Then he better be as good as fighting as he is pickpocketing.

After this initial encounter, you honestly forget about him.

That is until a few months later, when you spot a flash of bright yellow in the massive crowd on another Saturday morning rush.

You fumble to make change for the person buying three dozen heads of lettuce, trying to find his distinctly soft face in the sea of people.

At first you think you’ve lost him, until the lady buying out all your lettuce moves one of her bags and you see him snatch an apple from the barrel in front of your table.

Blinding hot rage sparks its way down your neck and shoulders, and without even thinking you shove the change into the woman’s hands and slide over the table.

The crook looks behind him just in time for you to grab him by the collar and drag him into the nearest alley.

The shock in his eyes is clear and although he tries to fight back, he can’t break your hold.

You shove him up against the brick wall of the alley and ask him one very important question.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?”

He kind of just makes a weird gurgling sound though because your knuckles are pressing into his trachea.

You loosen your grip a little and look at him expectantly.

“I’m the Prince-”, he starts, but you cut him off because listen you might not be rich but you’re not stupid.

“Bullshit. And you can keep that apple, but you better hope I never catch you stealing from me again”, you say, throwing him by the front of his shirt even further into the alley and storming back to your booth.

Once you gather your bearings, you think about the encounter.

You can’t pinpoint what it is that pisses you off so much about this guy in particular. There’s always been thieves in the market, it’s practically part of the system at this point.

But there’s always been one thing about the thieves that made you understand in a way, why they steal.

They almost always steal food and it’s because they need it. For themselves and probably their families. And you can’t find it in yourself to fault them for that.

But this bright-shoed bandit? He looks like he’s never missed a meal in his life. He’s got full cheeks, tan skin, toned muscles, and is missing that look of sheer desperation that’s in the eyes of all the thieves you’ve encountered thus far.

The only thing in this boy’s eyes is arrogance. And something else you can’t quite identify yet.

Sunday passes and you try to relax, but remembering that encounter just irks you.

Mom: “Y/N,,,, what are you doing”

You: “I’M GONNA GO PLOW THE FIELDS”

Mom: “Why would you do that by hand?? We have an ox for that??”

You: “Because I’m pissED oFF okaY”

It’s not until Monday that you hear the townspeople gossip like crazy about something that happened at the Sunday Market.

Even the vendors are talking about it instead of the usual small talk with customers.

“Did you hear? The prince rode into the marketplace on horseback yesterday”

“Hear? I was there! He made such a big scene!”

“Apparently he was looking for someone but he didn’t even know their name”

“Typical Prince Yangyang- he’s always up to something crazy. He’s such a lovely sight though~”

This goes on for hours and towards the end of the day you swear if you hear one more thing about “PriNcE YaNgyaNg anD hiS goRgEous faCe” or “PrinCe YanGyaNg aNd hiS sTeaMy mUScleS”, you might actually just close up shop and leave early.

At first it was interesting, but everyone’s repeating the same thing for h o u r s

Except for the man you’re currently selling tomatoes to.

“Yeah it wasn’t hard tah miss him with those bright ass shoes ah his”

Your whole body jolts and you drop the change the man just set in your hand.

Apologizing, you scramble to pick it all up and drop the coins on the table.

“What do you mean ‘bright ass shoes’, sir?”, you ask, your demeanor becoming physically tense.

“You know the kid loves collecting those new kinds ah shoes, right? ‘Sneakers’ or whaddeva ya call em? They’re all the rage in the next kingdom ovah, he musta gotten em imported from there-”, the man drones on and on, whilst you continue to panic.

“Sir please, what color were they?”

“Oh they were yellow like you wouldn’t believe! Brighter than the sun itself, and- hey! Where are you going?”

You hand the man his bag of tomatoes, grab what little produce is left and close down shop. If the prince comes back again today he could have you thrown in jail for treason for the way you spoke to him.

Everything's in the horse-drawn cart and you’re pretty much ready to go until you remember you left the change on the table.

Cursing to yourself, you abandon the cart for a brief moment and rush back to grab the money, but right as you reach for it, someone grabs your wrist.

Without thinking, you twist their arm around and pin them face first into the table.

Some of the coins fall off from the sudden impact and as your eyes follow them down…. you notice the man’s yellow shoes.

You quickly release him,,,, this thief,,,, the prince

As he slowly turns around, you contemplate whether you should request execution by hanging or guillotine….

But when he sees that it’s you, he just starts laughing.

Not like a maniacal “aha I’ve got you noW peasaNT” kind of laugh like you’d expect though. A genuine laugh from this boy.

From this p r i n c e

All instincts are telling you to bolt and just move to a different marketplace but,,,, you wanna know what this guy’s deal is.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you talk to him.

“Your Royal Highness”, you say in a sarcastic tone.

“Ah, so you believe me now? What’s changed?”, he asks and his voice sounds like honey. For some reason you’d expected him to be harsher.

“Your prance around town yesterday has been all anyone’s talking about today, Prince of Thieves”, you explain with disinterest dripping from your mouth.

“Prince of Thieves? I am prince of this nation, I’ll have you know”, he says and there’s that look in his eyes again that you can’t quite pin down.

“Then act like it”, you say with a certain degree of malice, and storm off to your horse and cart, leaving the money behind. It’s not worth it to grab it.

His eyes widen and he just stands there for a moment before chasing after you.

“Just- wait a minute!”, he shouts, running up behind you and putting a hand on your shoulder.

You grab his wrist, pulling him forward onto your back, and then flip him over onto the ground.

Once he’s down, you pin him down with your hands on his wrists and a knee on either side of his hips.

“I don’t care that you’re the prince. Your title means nothing to me. I care that you’re a thief. You steal from people who actually need money to live, and why? For the thrill of it? Grow up. If you want people to call you Prince then you better start acting like one”, you lay into him, letting all your frustration with him out at once.

You expect him to get angry with you. Maybe even yell. But he just looks,,,, sad. A little defeated, if anything.

“That’s not why I came here”

“You’re right, let me get off you so you can go pickpocket my customers”, you say, standing up and brushing the dirt off your pant legs.

“No, I came here looking for you. That’s why I came here yesterday, too”, he says, getting up and stepping between you and your horse. “Please, I need your help”

You take a deep breath in and out.

“My help with what exactly?”

“You fight like no one I’ve ever seen before. I need you to teach me”, he explains.

“Isn’t that what you have the knights for?”, you ask.

“They go easy on me. They’re worried if they hurt me while practicing, they’ll be fired by my mom”

“I don’t see why they’re concerned about hitting you in the face. It’s practically all I can think about right now”, you say nonchalantly.

“Wow okay- I could’ve gone without knowing that. But what do you say? Will you teach me? You’ve already showed me like three moves, just,,,, not on purpose I guess”

And for some reason,,,,, maybe because you’re lowkey worried he’ll actually have you hanged,,,,, you say yes.

You tell him it’ll have to be on Sundays and that he’ll have to come down to the family farm because “there’s no way in hell I’ll fight you that close to the queen’s wrath”

When you meet with him that Sunday though, he’s actually,,, quite charming??? And very polite to your parents, who were extremely surprised to see the prince on their front step (you might’ve forgotten to tell them about it)

This begins a routine of Prince Yangyang dragging you out of bed at dawn to spar with him in the barn out back behind your house.

The first few times he’d leave in the afternoon saying he “didn’t want to take up too much of your time”

But every time he leaves,,,, you find yourself missing his company.

Listen, he was an ass at first and he’s still an ass but it’s growing on you.

So one day, you ask him if he’d want to stay for dinner. And to your own shock, he immediately agrees.

He banters back and forth with you, makes jokes with your dad, and flatters your mom.

He’s got all of you around his finger and he’s not even trying to. He’s just being himself.

Now every Sunday he still wakes you up at dawn, much to your dismay, but he stays the whole day instead.

You spend the day together sparring, trying to knock each other into the pond, having lighthearted conversations, and getting the produce ready to go to market the next day.

To you, he stopped feeling like a prince a while ago honestly he never felt like a prince to start with but still

He’s your friend Yangyang that you throw into hay bales while teaching him self defense

One of those nights, the two of you are laying on the roof of the barn looking at the stars, when he says that he’d better head back to the castle.

“Can I ask you a question first?”, you ask, sitting up to face him.

“You technically just did”

“Oh shut up, you know what I mean”

“Hit me with it”, he says, closing his eyes and tilting his head back towards the speckled sky.

“Why do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Why do you steal from the marketplace?”, you finally ask, after silently wondering for months at this point.

“I don’t anymore”, he answers somewhat defensively, opening his eyes to look at you.

“Okay, then why did you?”

“...”

“...you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want….”, you say somewhat resigned.

Over the past month or so, things between the two of you has felt,,,, different.

You’ve been closer than ever, and talk to each other like you’ve known each other for years.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t falling for him.

But it feels like he’s got a barrier built up between him and the world.

Everything fiber of your being aches to shatter it. For him to feel like he can trust you, even if he can’t trust anyone else.To be special to him the way he’s special to you.

“I needed to do something to break out”, he says after some silence.

“Break out of what?”, you ask, trying to be gentle.

“Out of the box my parents are desperately trying to cram me into. I know they want what’s best for me and the country but,,,, it’s just so much pressure. I needed to do something else- anything else, even if it was stupid”

You scoot over to him and he sits up. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull yourself closer to him.

At first he just sits there, stunned, but then tightly returns the embrace and buries his face in the crook of your neck.

The two of you stay like that for who knows how long, with him getting everything off his chest and you quietly listening and running your fingers through his hair.

From that night onward, the two of you are practically inseparable. 

Neither of you have said that you’re an item,,, and for a while you were like “am I making this shit up or does he like me”.

But one day, he’s sitting behind your booth in the marketplace (like he usually is. You’d think as a prince he’d have more to do,,,), eating all of your apples, when he taps you on the shoulder.

“I’m in the middle of a sale”, you snap, and turn back around to the customer.

When you finish, you turn around and he hands you an apple that is just,,, seeping with juice.

“Yangyang,,, w h y”

“Flip it over!”

So you do, and he’s carved “for my beautiful s/o~” into the side of the apple.

You can’t help but smile at his literally sweet gesture.

But you also can’t help but make direct eye contact with him and bite straight into the carved part of the apple.

The look of horror on his face made your day.

He’s got a habit of making your day everyday, though.

[dragonsaphirareads]

Language of Flowers

Day 9 of @tsshipmonth2020 Fluffuary!

Ship: Roceit

AU: Royalty

Word Count: 2749

Summary: Prince Roman had never been that interested in the Hibiscus Festival, until a young man he’d never seen before arrived at the event and he started to think maybe it wasn’t so useless after all.

(Like listening to podfics? You can listen to this oneshot on my YT channel here!)

The Hibiscus Festival was the largest celebration in the kingdoms, held every year in late summer. Nobles and royalty from the farthest reaches of the continent would travel for days or weeks for the festival.

Prince Roman of the Sun Kingdom stared out the window of his room, watching the carriages arrive by the dozens and nobles of all ages stream into the castle. Servants darted around like busy bees, always having another carriage to unload or another noble to escort to their room.

He could be down there, he knew, but he wasn’t required to meet with any guests until the festival truly started the following evening. Until then, he was entitled to simply watch.

Most of the interesting guests had already arrived days ago. He had already met with Prince Logan of the Moon Kingdom, and Prince Patton of the Earth Kingdom. He enjoyed their company - he’d known them since they were all children, so they were practically family to him.

He knew his brother felt slightly differently about Logan, though. He’d been bragging to Roman for a month about his elaborate plan to court Logan, starting with the Hibiscus Festival.

The courting rituals of the annual festival were renowned all over the land. The Hibiscus Festival allowed those wishing to court someone the chance to present them with a red flower, symbolizing their love. Those receiving a flower then had the week to consider their response, and on the final day they would present their potential suitors with a flower of their own.

A pink flower in return told the suitor that they would like to have a friendly relationship with them, rather than a romantic one. Yellow meant that they weren’t ready to commit yet, but to try again the following year. Purple was an outright rejection - to see someone walking around with a bouquet of purple hibiscus was seen as a symbol of one who would never find love.

And of course, returning a red flower to the suitor was an invitation, consent for the suitor to begin courting.

Roman sighed, watching the sun set and the carriages coming slower now. His birthday had been only a few months ago, and now that he was 18, he had no doubt he would be receiving countless hibiscus flowers this year now that he was of age. Patton and Logan had both received full bouquets from potential suitors the previous year, and Roman had heard murmurs of plans from many noble girls to offer him a red flower come tomorrow.

He sighed. He would be preparing a lot of pink flowers if that was the case. But better to let them know up front than to string them along.

The door opened behind him and he heard loud, obnoxious footsteps approaching before arms flung themselves onto his shoulders, and a chin rested beside his ear. “I knew you were hiding up here! What’re you doing, you love parties!”

Roman sighed again, simply staring out the window at another carriage arriving. “I’ve said hello to those I wanted to see. I’ll meet everyone else at the ball tomorrow.”

The carriage outside was small, with only a driver and two people inside. A regal looking woman with hair braided all the way down her back, and a young man dressed for a party already.

“Who is that?” Roman mused, and his brother pushed further to get a good view out the window.

“Oh, isn’t that that new noble family that just got super rich in the last year or two?”

Roman glanced back at Remus then, surprised. “What? Since when do you care about anyone that wasn’t Logan?”

“I only care cause they call her ‘The Dragon Witch’ and that’s fucking cool!” Remus defended himself, and then continued. “Plus, I heard her son is like, super fucking hot and I’m gonna see for myself.”

Remus pushed himself away from Roman, fixing his collar before running out of the room, leaving Roman alone to watch them enter the castle and their carriage pull away.

Dragon Witch... it was an intimidating name, but from what little he could tell, the woman fit it perfectly. It made him wonder what her son would be like. At the ball tomorrow evening, he’d be sure to seek him out first.

~

The opening festivities were an all day affair, although there was no required attendance until the evening ball. Roman spent the majority of the day with his brother and his friends, wandering around the town and enjoying the market stalls set up specifically for the festival.

Flower sellers were on every street corner, selling not only hibiscus flowers but all sorts of buds. Roman saw his brother eyeing every seller, and eventually Roman took pity on him and lead Logan and Patton away for a while so he could slip away and buy himself a red hibiscus.

Before he knew it, the sun was setting and they needed to get back to the castle to change into their best outfits for the party. Roman and Remus wore similar outfits, long suitcoats with a flowing cape hanging loosely from their shoulders. Roman dressed in white, red and gold embroidery, and Remus in black, green and silver.

“You’re gonna kill that flower if you keep that up,” Roman told Remus, noticing his brother fidgeting with the flower between his palms. Remus shot him a look.

“It’s better than nothing at all!” Remus teased, noting Roman’s lack of a flower to give. Roman shrugged.

“I’m just barely 18, I’ve got years ahead of me to woo someone! I’m going to wait for the perfect person, not just anyone who walks by!”

“Aww, so you’re gonna be a heartbreaker, walking around with a bunch of purple hibiscus? So cruel!”

“At least I’m not putting all of my eggs into one basket. What if Logan rejects you? What’ll you do then?”

Remus shrugged, hiding his nerves behind a wonky smile. “Then I guess I’ll die alone, just like you!”

Before Roman could retaliate, there was a knock at their door and a servant entered to tell them they were needed to begin the opening ceremony. Roman gracefully sauntered out of the room, with Remus trying to push against him the entire way.

The ballroom was enormous, and filled with nobles, servants and long tables of hors d’oeuvres. At the front there was a raised stage where the royal families were waiting to enter and begin the party.

Roman and Remus had to sneak around along a servant hallway to avoid the large crowd, but they did overhear snippets of conversation from people who had stepped out of the claustrophobic ballroom.

The twins’ parents waved them inside, urging them to hurry. Roman and Remus took their place beside them, smiling over at Logan and Patton who were already there.

Soon the curtains opened, and there was applause as the King and Queen of the Sun Kingdom welcomed their guests, inviting them to drink, eat, and dance the week away, as well as participate in the annual trading of the Hibiscus flowers, provided by their local farmers. There was excited tittering that rolled through the crowd, and Roman could feel the eyes looking in his direction. He scanned the crowd, plastering a neutral, pretty smile onto his face to mask how nervous he was about this.

He had always loved the festival, back when he was a kid. It was so romantic, the exchange of flowers and the meanings of every color. As a child, he had thought that he wouldn’t care what color he received, because they were all so beautiful.

Now, though, he couldn’t help but focus on the sea of red that was scattered throughout the crowd. What was so romantic about being ambushed by people he didn’t even know, wishing for his hand in marriage?

“With that, let this celebration begin!” The King announced, and a cheer rose from the gathered nobles. The royal families left the stage and mingled with their guests.

Almost immediately, Remus pulled Logan out of the ballroom, hiding the hibiscus behind his back. Patton and Roman watched them leave, and Patton giggled at how excited Remus was.

“Aww, they would be cute together, don’t you think?” He asked, and Roman had to agree that Logan was a pretty good match for his chaotic brother.

“What about you? Are you going to give a flower to anyone?” Roman asked, and Patton blushed slightly.

“Not this year...”

Roman raised an eyebrow, curious. “But you’ve got someone in mind, then? Aw, Pat, you’ve gotta introduce me! Who is it?”

“It’s this noble boy from the Kingdom of Stars... But he’s not 18 yet, so I can’t court him this year. But next year, I will!”

Roman grabbed his friend’s arm, shaking it playfully. “Introduce me! I wanna meet him!”

Patton giggled, and he scanned the crowd for a moment before spotting him, and he ducked and dodged through the droves of people expertly.

Unlike Roman, who was starting to find that wearing a cape wasn’t the best idea in a space like this. It kept getting caught on things, and then people would run up to him and present him with a flower, causing him to spend even more time in the crowd and allowing the cycle to repeat.

Having lost Patton, and now with an armful of red Hibiscus, Roman fought his way to the nearest hallway and collapsed against the wall, blowing out a heavy breath.

“You’re very popular, your Highness,” came a smooth voice from beside him, and Roman jumped. When he looked over, he was face to face with the young man he’d seen arriving yesterday... the son of the “Dragon Witch”.

His skin was dark, but with light colored patches around his left eye and spreading down onto his cheek and chin. His eyes were golden brown, with the left one almost seeming to sparkle like gold. He was dressed in a similar outfit to Roman, a black suit coat with gold trimmings and a capelet around his shoulders.

“A-Ah, well, I just turned 18, so they’ve been waiting for their chance!”

The young man smiled, but it was guarded. “Of course! And you’re so handsome, your Highness, I would have expected a bouquet twice this size!”

“H-Handsome?” Roman stuttered, unsure of why his heart was racing. He’d been called handsome plenty of times, but there was something about the way the word rolled off this man’s tongue that sent shivers down his spine.

It was then he saw there was a red hibiscus in the young man’s fingers as well, being twirled lazily.

“Perhaps it’s a waste of time given your vast selection, but if you’d allow me...” He leaned in, offering the flower to Roman. “I would be honored if I could throw my hat in the ring as well~”

Roman blushed, taking the hibiscus quickly. “I, ah... I’ll take it into consideration... if you’ll tell me one thing.”

The man tilted his head, a curious grin on his face. “Yes, your Highness?”

“What’s... your name?”

He blinked, then nodded and took a little bow. “Of course, my apologies. I am Ernest, your Highness. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Ernest...” Roman repeated, testing how it felt to say it. He found he quite liked it. “I’ll be certain to remember your name.”

“Perhaps we could spend some time together this week, your Highness? Your kingdom is beautiful, and I have never been to the castle. And who better to reveal its intricate beauties than its prince?”

Ernest was a charmer, and Roman knew that it was likely he was just sucking up to him to try and increase his chances at the end of the week. But Roman liked pretty words, so it was working.

“Only if you will then tell me about your family in return. I’ve heard that your family only attained noble status a year or two ago. I’m rather curious to know how.” Roman offered, and Ernest smiled that guarded smile again.

“Of course, I’d be glad to share our history. But perhaps... before all that, I could ask for a dance?” Ernest offered his hand, and Roman realized that while they were talking, waltz music had started to play in the ballroom.

“I suppose I could offer you one...” Roman said, trying to be coy but feeling his heart racing. They walked back into the ballroom together, and Roman was excited to find that Ernest was an excellent dancer. They spun around together long after that first song had ended, and the prince knew he should be a proper host and dance with other potential suitors... but he found he just didn’t care enough to do so.

~

Ernest made for fun company, as he found over the week of the festival. Every day he woke up early to spend time with him, taking him on a tour of the castle and of the town, pointing out his favorite things about the place he lived.

In return, Ernest told him about his family. About how they had been farmers for generations, but his mother had wanted to do something to change that. In just ten years she was able to completely change how their family was run, and in the last few years she had been getting invitations to bigger events. This was the first time they had been invited to come to the Hibiscus Festival, and it was everything he had dreamed and more.

The Dragon Witch title came from her competition, from those who wanted to destroy her reputation by insinuating she used dark magic to gain her success. It was all lies, Ernest told him, but his mother had enjoyed them, and used those rumors to inspire her appearance.

With every moment, Roman found himself falling even harder. On the night before the final day of the festival, Remus came into his room to find him lying on his bed, staring dreamily at the ceiling. He teased him, saying that out of the two of them, he never would have expected that Roman would be the one to fall in love with a nobody while Remus with another prince.

Roman wasn’t bothered for once, letting Remus talk as he daydreamed. It wasn’t expected of him, no, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

On the final day of the festival, the party was held in the gardens of the castle. As the sun set, the exchange of flowers began. The prince would stand in front as his potential suitors lined up to receive whatever flower he had decided to give them.

To those who had offered Patton a flower, he returned a pink hibiscus to every one of them. Roman expected nothing less - it would take a truly evil person to even have Patton consider giving a purple flower.

Remus had received a few, but he of course only offered pink and purple roses in return. When Logan stepped up, he saw that he was carrying a bouquet of all pink, with one red hibiscus in the center.

Remus couldn’t contain his happiness when it was that red flower being offered to him, and they both collapsed to the ground as Remus tackled him in an excited hug.

Then it was Roman’s turn, and he looked down at his bouquet of pink flowers, with one tucked away from view in the middle of it.

He handed out the flowers slowly, but when he got to Ernest in the center of the line, he spent a moment rearranging his bouquet to retrieve that other color hidden amongst the pink.

Ernest’s eyes widened as he stared at the flower, and Roman had to hide a smirk as he moved on, passing out the rest without much fanfare.

“Really?” Remus whispered as Roman came back to their group. “But I thought you were--”

“In love?” Roman asked, letting himself grin. “Maybe, maybe not. But I want to make sure that he’s not just all talk. Besides, you told me yourself his family has only really gained power in the last two years. I want to make sure that’s going to last.”

“I hope to prove myself quickly, then.” Ernest spoke from behind them, holding up the yellow flower he’d received, and Roman turned around and smiled at him. “I’m thankful for the chance, your Highness, and I hope to rise to your standards by next summer.”

“I look forward to it!”

[self-proclaimed-chaotic-good]

Falling Slowly | Cassian Andor x Reader (Oneshot)

Words:  5992

A/N: I don’t even know. I just love writing Cassian and reader being awkward messes. It was supposed to be a nice oneshot about a bubbly new recruit that’s assigned to work with Rogue One and Cassian has his reservations on them, but they prove to be really competent and they start to fall for each other. But then it grew into something else all because my brain wants to make things complicated, so it became something about letting go the past that’s keeping you from enjoying the present? So... enjoy?

Warning: Not much, just slow-burn, reader doesn’t know how feelings work

-

“Captain, the general has requested that we bring one of the new recruits along,” K-2SO reminded Cassian.

Bodhi’s ears perked up at that, stepping away from one of the mechanics to listen in. “New recruit?” he asked curiously.

Cassian sighed. “There has been more people siding with the Rebellion, sending in people that have no experience in warfare to help,” he said, dropping his backpack onto a bench in the U-Wing.

“You don’t look so happy about that,” Bodhi noted, earning a snort from Jyn as she walked up to the group, a bag slung over her shoulder.

“He never looks happy,” Jyn muttered to Bodhi. The pilot hid his smile with a cough, turning his attention back to the mechanics to make sure the ship was ready to go. “And when is this new recruit arriving?”

“You’re late, Jyn,” Cassian said with a frown, though when is he not frowning. “The new recruit is late. Even Chirrut and Baze were here early, and they always take their time.”

“I’m blind, not deaf,” Chirrut quipped, then added pleasantly, “Good morning, Jyn.”

“Morning, little sister,” Baze chimed in.

“Morning, you two. How long has Cassian and Kaytwo been complaining?”” Jyn asked them as she climbed into the U-Wing.

Chirrut answered with a sigh and a shake of his head. Baze made no comment, settling for cleaning his gun. Jyn set her bag down and plopped next to Chirrut, sighing impatiently. Cassian gave her a tired glare before taking a walk to think. Mon Mothma and Draven had given him another briefing for the mission with the addition of the new recruit to the plan. He had been fine operating on his own until he got K-2SO and was just getting used to having a full team of five to lead and now they’re adding someone who has no experience in the field.

“They’re inconspicuous and they know how those types of environments operate,” Mon Mothma reasoned with him.

He nodded stiffly, knowing that he couldn’t talk his way out of this. The recruit was a liability. Any signs of danger and who knows what they will do? Blow their cover or turn on them or run. Then again, he was cautious with having to work with Jyn during their first mission and she turned out to be an admirable ally and friend. Mothma and Draven wouldn’t send the recruit to him if they didn’t think that they were competent enough to get the job done.

As he walked back to the U-Wing, he could hear the team laughing along with a voice he was unfamiliar with. He stepped into the ship and saw the new member of the team sitting on one of the benches in the middle of telling a story while the others surrounded her, listening intently.

“You’re an hour late,” Cassian said, breaking the mood. Jyn rolled her eyes before sitting down across from you.

You shot up from the bench. “I’m sorry, Captain. Some of the mechanics were having trouble moving the new shipment and I stopped to help-”

“It’s fine,” Chirrut assured you.

“You’re just lucky that we’re not pressed on time for this mission,” K-2SO clipped, “but we do need to start to head out as soon as possible.”

“I’m so sorry,” you began to apologize again.

“Enough,” Cassian said, walking past you to the cockpit, “We leave now.”

You slowly sat back down, hands folded on your lap as you waited for the U-Wing to take off. Chirrut gave a comforting pat on the hand while Jyn gave you a smile. She scooted to the edge of her bench, looking at the cockpit where Cassian and K-2SO were arguing about something, then back at you.

“So, what happened afterwards?” she whispered, wanting you to continue the story.

Chirrut and Baze leaned in while Bodhi, seemingly busy taking inventory, was still listening in. You cast a cautious glance over to the captain before clearing your throat.

“So, anyways, where was I?” you whispered.

“The tourists were entering the forest at night when they heard something,” Baze prompted.

“Oh, right, so they ignored all the warnings given to them by the locals, thinking it was some silly superstition. They drank and littered, kicking the stacked rocks that were everywhere and just was being incredibly foolish. Then, they saw a light between the trees, followed by a whistle in the chilly wind-”

You went on to telling the stories you’ve heard over the years throughout your travels. It helped ease your nervousness for your first mission with the Rebellion and you got the feeling that the team knew that. When you ran through the hangar, looking for the U-Wing, Bodhi was the first to greet you. He flashed a kind smile and introduced you to the rest of the team. You’ve heard stories about Rogue One, so the fact that you were assigned to this team had put a lot of pressure on you. You weren’t a skilled mechanic or a talented pilot and you preferred not to have any physical confrontations. What you were good at was staying invisible, observing, and having a photographic memory. Apparently, this type of mission required people with your skillset and they promised that it shouldn’t be too dangerous.

“Okay, we’re here,” Cassian announced, landing the U-Wing. He walked towards the group and zeroed in on you. “I assume they had briefed you on your task?”

You nodded. “Gather intel on the target, then we find the target and escort them back to base.”

“No, you are gathering intel and reporting back to me. We,” Cassian gestures to the rest of the team, “will find the target and escort them. Once your task is done, you come straight back here and wait.”

You blinked. “Uh, okay. I gather intelligence on the target, report back to you, then wait here in the U-Wing,” you repeated almost mechanically.

Cassian seemed satisfied with this and went to grab his bag. You exhaled slowly, your leg bouncing as you tried to calm yourself, though it seemed counterintuitive to do that. You felt someone poke your forehead and looked up to see a smiling Jyn.

“You’ll do fine. Cassian’s always grumpy, but don’t take it too personally. He’s insufferable, but he’s capable. We’ll be listening in if you guys run into any trouble,” Jyn said.

“Okay… okay, thank you, Jyn,” you said, grabbing your small bag and following Cassian out of the ship.

“Stay close until we reach the inner city, then we split. I will be following nearby,” Cassian said as he held out a wired device to you.

You grabbed it, turning it around in your hands, not sure what to do with it. “Um…”

He sighed, showing you how to set up the communication device and hide it on your person before testing it. He adjusted his earpiece and you copied him. You jumped at the static from your end, the corner of his lips turning up in amusement before it disappeared. How embarrassing. You were an hour late for your first mission, always stumbling over your words, and now you’ve just shown how easily scared you were. He made sure the device was perfectly hidden before pulling away. It was strange how cold it felt when he did.

“Can you hear us?” Cassian said into the device.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Jyn said, “Are you there, (Y/n)?”

“Oh, uh, yes, I-”

“That’ll do,” K-2SO interrupted, “I hope you’re not going to be like this throughout the mission. Cassian would be better off taking Jyn or Bodhi and we know how well that went the last time.”

“I didn’t think it went that bad,” you heard Bodhi mutter in the background.

“You did great, Bodhi, don’t listen to Kaytwo. He’s just upset that he’s stuck waiting with us instead of going with Cassian,” Jyn said.

You purse your lips, not knowing how to respond to this, but ultimately deciding not to say anything at all. Cassian shrugged on his backpack and zipped up his jacket before nodding at you. He started towards the city, checking every now and again if you were keeping up.

The walk to the city was uncomfortable for you. The space was too open, easy for you to be spotted and picked off if you were alone. But as the two of you got closer, you could feel the energy radiating off the busy streets, the rumbling of the collective voices in one area, and the heat of all the bodies and factory structures. You felt your muscles slowly relaxed once you reached the edge of the city. Cassian looked over to you to start walking ahead first. You did so, slowly being swallowed up by the crowd. You knew that Cassian was waiting a few beats before following, blending in like you.

There wasn’t much to go on when it came to finding the target. You were told that there was a potential and valuable ally hidden within this city under a heavy watch due to his inventions and engineering abilities. The Rebellion wanted to reach him before the Empire could get a hold of any of his blueprints or prototypes. No one knew exactly who he was and preferred to work with anonymity, but rumor has it, he owed a local kingpin a lot of money and was now working under them to pay that debt. Where do you start?

As you walked through the market area, you asked simple questions that travellers normally inquire about, like the businesses in the city, places to stay, if there were any forms of entertainment, just to get an idea of what kind of system this place ran on. You walked over to one of the market stalls, buying a variety of fruits before walking over to a couple of street urchins here and there who only gave you short answers before leaving. One person with ragged clothes and a cloth covering their face remained, so you sat down next to them. You took one fruit out of the bag and munched slowly, taking in your surroundings. You weren’t sure where Cassian was, exactly, but you suppose that was the point. Just have to hope that he’d be nearby to intercept if something goes wrong.

“You're new here,” the stranger commented, eyeing the bag of fruit.

“Is it obvious?” you asked.

“I know everyone that passes by here,” they said confidently.

“Really? And what kind of people pass by here?”

“Give me a fruit and I’d tell ya.”

You eased them into a natural conversation, from the old lady that smuggle drugs in her baking to the young men and women messing with the local law enforcement. All the while, people passed both of you without a second look.

“So who runs what?” you asked.

They raised an eyebrow. “What you mean?”

You shrugged. “I’d assume there’d be a group in control of certain areas around the city. There’s bound to be what with the state of the law enforcement and the illegal dealings going on around here. It just seems civil on the surface, if you know what I mean?” You took out another fruit and handed it over to them while you continued to munch on your own.

They nodded. “So you from the slums, then?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

“We’ve got four main gangs around here; Feuer, Erde, Meer, and Luft. They broke their territories up by quadrants, which is what people call them as a whole. Everything was supposed to be equal with trade going through each quadrant. But,” they held up a finger, “there’s been something that threatens this peace treaty. Lotta noise coming from the Feuer gang and the others are on edge.”

“Noise?”

They looked around before leaning in. “Zapata,” they whispered.

You frowned. “What’s that?”

They shook their head. “Not what, who. Look around, look at all the smooth machinery and the clear sky. This place was a smoggy sooty mess before Zapata found a way to make clean and practically infinite power to keep the factories going. The Quadrants have been eyeing him and they couldn’t agree about what to do with him. One says let him be, others say that he would bring trouble, then there were the other two who wanted him to themselves.”

“Why?”

They hummed, holding a hand out for another fruit, which you complied. “What can you do with an engineer like that? Practically anything, and that’s a scary power to have. What starts as something of good intention gets taken advantage of for others’ selfish reasons.”

You opened your mouth to ask more about Zapata when Cassian’s voice sounded through the earpiece. “We’ve got company approaching on both ends,” he warned.

“Where is this person?” you asked the stranger.

They narrowed their eyes. “Why do you want to know?”

You shrugged it off. You could see two men with charcoal colored light metal armor on either side of the street. “Just asking,” you said before handing them the rest of the fruits, “Well, I gotta get going.”

The stranger spotted the men and stood up. They had a hand behind their back as their green eyes flickered back to you. “Who are you?”

“Just passing through,” you said.

“(Y/n),” Cassian said, urging you to move.

“You’re looking for Zapata, too, aren’t you?” the stranger went on.

Your heart was beating against your ribcage as the men were drawing in closer. You quickly grabbed the stranger’s hand and squeezed it.

“(Y/n)!” Cassian said harshly.

You ignored him. “Look, I can help him escape here,” you whispered, “Help me, please. I know you know him.”

Their eyes studied you for a minute. “You’ve got a ship, then? Protection?” You nodded. “Then follow me.”

They pulled their other hand from behind their back and revealed a small blaster. Before the men could spot the two of you, the stranger pulled you through a narrow alleyway. You hoped that Cassian would be able to catch up as you were lead through the streets, weaving around through every alleyway or shortcut that this person seemed to know by heart. When it looked to be the outskirts of the city in the opposite quadrant, they pulled you into a small tavern.

They walked over to a booth in the corner of the room and sighed. A waiter came and set down a tankard of some strong smelling brown liquid in front of them before greeting you. You settled for a glass of water before looking around the tavern. It was relatively homely with the fireplace on one end, comfy chairs surrounding it, and a bar at the other.

“Where are we?” you asked.

“We’re in the Meer quadrant, a neutral zone,” they said, pulling down the cloth from their face, revealing a man with brown hair and a salt and pepper stubble, “but we can’t stay here for long. If the Feuer gang grows impatient and desperate, they may try to come here and look for me.”

“You? So, you’re Zapata?” you asked quietly. He nodded. “I was told that you were under heavy watch.”

He shrugged. “They don’t expect me to be able to climb out of the window of a four story building, but I’m an inventor. I have my ways,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “I love watching people. I love learning about their behaviors, their personalities. I grew to appreciate our… humanness. It was something that I took for granted when I was younger. Empathy. So I made it my goal to help people and to better understand them. I ran into a financial obstacle and asked the gangs for help, knowing that they cared about the people more than the law enforcement here. I should have known that something was off when my contacts were replaced with Feuer gang members. But it was too late, and I owed a debt to them.” He paused for a moment before clearing his throat. “Forgive me, I haven’t properly introduced myself. I’m Zapata, Julio Zapata. You can just call me Julio.”

“I’m (Y/n).”

“Pleasure to meet you, (Y/n).”

“And what do they want you to do for them?”

Julio shook his head. “Maybe we should wait for your friend to catch up, hm?” he said, taking another sip of his drink.

“How did-”

He tapped his ear. “Your earpiece. It’s hard to see for anyone who wasn’t looking, but I’m used to checking for those kinds of things.”

“No, just get the information and then leave, (Y/n),” Cassian said into your earpiece.

You purse your lips. “Is there a ‘fresher here?” you asked Julio.

He gave you an amused smile before pointing to the door on the opposite end of the tavern. You thanked him before rushing over, locking the door behind you.

“But I have the target here with me,” you told Cassian.

“I know, but if we can find out where they had been holding him, we could get a hold of his work and leave.”

“But aren’t we supposed to get him out of here. The point wasn’t to get his work, it was to get him, so they wouldn’t be using him.”

“He sounds like he already has an escape plan. He always does,” he added, then said, “we get his work, he leaves, then there’s no threat to deal with.”

“I think we’re his escape plan, Cassian. What’s going on? Besides, he won’t tell me any more information unless you come. He knows I came with someone. We might as well talk to him now, then move him to the ship together.”

“I am the captain here, (Y/l/n). Get the information, then we move on,” Cassian said firmly before ending the connection.

You ripped the earpiece out in frustration. This mission wasn’t turning out to how you thought it was going to be. But then again, Cassian was acting in a way that you thought that he wouldn’t. In the short time that you knew him and from the stories you’ve heard of him, he didn’t seem the type to cut corners. When he has orders, he does what he must to finish them. It wasn’t like the mission was completely compromised. If anything, this was easier, knowing that you had already found the target and he was willing to talk to you. You thought that Cassian would at least warm up to you more with how things have gone so far.

Julio was waiting patiently back at the booth, half of his tankard gone, but he still looked sober. You sat back down and took a couple gulps of water before sighing.

“Let me guess, your superior is being impatient?” Julio asked. You nodded. He huffed out a laugh. “He thinks I didn’t see him, but I did. When you live like the way I lived, you learn to be more observant of your surroundings. Not trust anything you see. It was easy to spot him.”

“You trusted me,” you noted.

Julio nodded. “You’re the most sincere thing I’ve seen in years. When I’m not working on machines, I’m working with people with masks that they show to the world. I suppose, I’m more aware of this when I’ve had a mask on even around the people that trusted me the most. I’ve paid the price for it, but I don’t want to be jaded by my experience. I have this hope, you know, that there are genuine people out there.”

“You mentioned that you saw him. How did you even know that it was him that I was with?”

“I knew him. Years ago, and I’m guessing… no, I know it’s the reason why he’s not going to come over here,” Julio said, playing with the droplets that formed on his tankard, “Understandably. But, I really do need your help and you guys were sent to help me. Is he still listening in?”

“I don’t know.”

Julio sighed, then muttered, “You wouldn’t put personal grudges in the way of your mission, would you, Cassian?”

The two of you were silent for a moment, until he started asking questions about you. There wasn’t much to tell, only that you’ve been travelling around your whole life. You didn’t know your family, and you guessed that made it easier to not settling, but it didn’t mean you closed yourself off to the rest of the world. You loved helping people, telling stories, and learning about others. Maybe that’s why it was easy to talk to Julio, due to your similar mindsets. He expressed that he wasn’t always like that, that he was bitter even as a child. After a fall out with a close friend of his, he decided to change himself. He didn’t want to answer any questions related to the mission, and you wondered if he was just stalling until Cassian made up his mind.

Then, the front door of the tavern opened. You saw Julio’s eyes trained on the newcomer, a ghost of a smile on his lips. You turned and saw Cassian walking over to the booth. He gave a frustrated glare to both of you.

“I’ve ordered Kaytwo to move the ship closer. Jyn will be meeting us there. You tell us where they’ve been holding you and we’ll get you on our ship, got that?” Cassian said. After Julio nodded, Cassian turned to you with a stern look. “Let’s go.”

Julio pulled up his cloth mask again and followed you and Cassian out of the tavern and through the streets until you found Jyn waiting a mile out of the city. She didn’t look too pleased with Cassian, but gave you a smile instead. After Julio told the team where he was held, Cassian told Jyn to ready herself to leave with him.

“(Y/l/n), you are to wait on the ship with him while Jyn and I get the plans,” he ordered, holding your gaze to make sure you knew that they weren’t to be questioned.

“Okay,” you said with a nod, “I wait on the ship with Julio while you and Jyn get the plans.”

Cassian grunted, not amused by this. You led Julio into the ship where the others were waiting. He sat down across from Chirrut and Baze when Jyn grabbed your arm.

“You did good,” she said before leaving with Cassian.

“So you guys just sit here while Cassian does his thing, huh?” Julio said. They all sighed, even K-2SO, which was enough to answer him.

“We’re here as backup and protection if anyone finds the ship,” Baze said.

“At least with (Y/n) here, we get to listen to stories while we wait,” Chirrut added.

Julio turned to you. “Stories? I’d like to hear one.”

-

You were finished with your third story when there was a rhythmic knock on the ship. K-2SO moved to lower the ramp, revealing a tired Cassian and an angry Jyn carrying Julio’s projects. K-2SO grabbed the heavier objects off of them and placed them on the back of the ship. Once everything was settled, Cassian looked over at you as you sat close to Julio, before making a beeline to the cockpit.

He hadn’t spoken to any of you for the rest of the journey back to base. In the meantime, the rest of the team got to know more about you and Julio, exchanging stories about your childhoods and for them, how they ended up with the Rebellion.

“So, how did you end up with the Rebellion?” Julio asked you.

You shrugged. “Well, as you guys know, I just want to help people. Figured joining the Rebellion would help me do that,” you responded vaguely.

They all seemed to accept this, though you felt that Jyn was going to question more about it later. Bodhi asked him about his inventions and he began to talk about how he got started in engineering.

Soon enough, the U-Wing was back at the Rebel base. Cassian never spoke to you after the mission was wrapped up. There were times where you tried to psych yourself up to confront him, but you either become speechless the moment your eyes landed on him, or he’d turn the opposite direction. You feared that by arguing with his decisions, it affected whether or not the Rebellion wanted to enlist in any future field missions.

The others were fine talking to you, it was only the captain that was hard to deal with. Jyn had told you to stop wasting your energy worrying about it and you honestly don’t know why it bothered you this much. You’ve travelled enough to know your fair share of people that were cold, mean, and guarded towards you. So why was Cassian any different?

Rogue One had gone on to continue with their missions and Julio was given a work space near the hangar. Then, you, having no other skillset to offer, began floating around and learning everything you could to help in some way. You came all this way to join the Rebellion. You didn’t want to become a burden.

You were in your first week of shadowing the medics when you heard a commotion enter the medbay. You jumped out of the way of the incoming stretcher, only seeing a glimpse of who was lying on it. The others that rushed in after him only confirmed who it was. K-2SO pushed past you and followed the medics into one of the rooms.

“Oh, (Y/n), you’re here,” Bodhi said, walking up to you.

“What happened?” you managed to ask as you felt a strange stirring in your gut.

“Cassian got hit while we were running back to the U-Wing. The damage looked pretty bad,” Jyn said, “How are you?”

“Well, I was doing fine until... ,” you trailed off.

“Yeah, and how’s Julio?”

You frowned, not sure why she would ask you out of all people that. “Fine, I guess. I’ve visited his workshop once or twice a week to check in,” you said.

Jyn tilted her head and frowned. “Only once or twice?”

“Yeah,” you said slowly, “Why are you… why are you asking me this? You can go check on him if you want-”

“So it’s just platonic, then?”

“Well, yeah. We’ve become good friends since we brought him here. Why are you…” You looked at Bodhi for answers.

He gave you an apologetic smile. “I’m going to go check on Cassian’s status,” he said, excusing himself.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n), I was just… trying to figure out what’s been going on in Cassian’s head,” Jyn said, “He seemed distracted lately. It’s not like him to be distracted. The only thing I could think of was you and Julio.”

“Well, I assume Cassian and Julio had some bad history with each other. He didn’t even want to bring Julio back when we found out who the target was, and he seemed angry at me because I kept arguing with him,” you tried to reason.

Jyn shook her head, knowing that there was something more to it. “When was the last time you spoke to Cassian?”

“Since the last mission and I’m pretty sure he actively avoided having me join on any missions after that.”

Jyn pursed her lips. “You did nothing wrong, (Y/n). Cassian’s being frustratingly stubborn as usual, that’s all. Maybe talk to him and find out what’s wrong. He wasn’t focused today and I don’t want to think what would have happened if we weren’t next to him to drag him away from incoming enemies.”

“I can try, but I don’t think he wants to talk to me,” you said, looking down the hall where they took Cassian.

“You’ll be surprised,” Jyn said, patting you on the shoulder, “I’ll see you around. I like talking to you.”

“See you.”

With your new tasks at the medbay, there weren't many opportunities for you to see Cassian. Or, at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. What if he didn’t want to see you because you tried to disobey him? What exactly happened between him and Julio?

You were doing your rounds during your late shift and every time, you’d pass by Cassian’s room, lingering in front of the doorway before walking away again. When you came back, you heard voices inside, one of them was definitely Cassian.

“How many times do I have to apologize, Cass?” Julio asked, “We were young. Too young to even be a part of this fight. How do you expect a kid who had grown up in the lifestyle that I have to react when a blaster is pointed at their face? They fear death like everyone else.”

Cassian sighed. “I know.”

“Then why didn’t you want to talk to me?”

Cassian grew quiet.

“Well, I need some rest or else I slice my finger off the next time I’m in the workshop. I’ll come by later.” You hear the scrape of a chair as he stood up. “Oh, and talk to (Y/n). There’s been some misunderstandings going around and I’m not sure what started it. I just want things to be cleared up.”

You walked away as quietly as you could before Julio walked out. You sorted some papers out at the front desk and smiled as he passed by. This was the first time you’ve heard him mention anything about the small rumors going around base. You shrugged it off as joking around, but you made it clear that you and Julio were just friends. Granted, when he first settled down in the base, you were there to help him get used to the new place and stopped by to talk almost every day. Then, both of your schedules became busy, so those visits were reduced to once or twice a week. You could see why people who didn’t know the two of you well would misunderstand, but you never thought it was serious. Besides, what did Cassian have to do with it?

You still couldn’t bring yourself to talk to Cassian that night, and the night after that. Whenever you ended up helping a nurse in Cassian’s room, he’d be sleeping. You were off duty when he was discharged, rearranging your side of your shared quarters with Jyn after you moved in. She knew you hadn’t spoken to him yet and she refused to elaborate why you had to talk to him.

“This is almost the longest I’ve stayed in one place and that I actually want to stay,” you told her, “I feel… safe here.”

“Yeah?” Jyn asked with a small smile. She was about to add to that when a message popped up on her datapad. She read it through and she groaned. “Bodhi needs to get his arm fixed again,” she said, shaking her head, “I told him not to move anything heavy by himself. I have to go check up on him. Need anything while I’m out?”

“Uh, no. I’m fine. Thanks,” you said.

Jyn nodded, taking her datapad and made her way over to the hangar where Bodhi was. Once the door slid closed, you flopped backwards onto your small creaky bed and closed your eyes. This was where you’ll be staying for a long time, until the base relocated or the war was over. Home. That sounded nice on your ears. Maybe it’s going to be easier to get used to that now that you have found friends in Julio and the Rogue One crew. Well, except Cassian. That’s something you still have to deal with.

You hadn’t realized that you had fallen asleep until there was a knocking at the door. Jyn wasn’t back yet, so you quickly fixed your appearance and stumbled towards the door. You weren’t sure who would be knocking, but you assumed that they were looking for Jyn. What you hadn’t expected to see was Cassian standing there with his hand raised to knock again.

“Captain Andor?” you frowned. “Um, Jyn’s not here. She’s with Bodhi right now.”

He shook his head. “No, I came to see you, actually,” he said.

“Oh.” You blinked.

What was the proper etiquette for this kind of thing? Do you invite him in or go somewhere else to talk or…? You saw a mechanic pass by, eyeing the two of you curiously before hurrying away. You shuffled to the side and gestured for Cassian to come in. He tentatively stepped over the threshold and stood by the door as it closed behind him.

Cassian cleared his throat, patting his vest until he found the small cards he was looking for. He flipped through them with narrowed eyes, already regretting giving K-2SO and Julio permission to help him pick the words to say to you. Many of them were either insincere or too flirty to his taste.

“Is there something wrong, captain?” you asked.

“No!” he said quickly, making you jump, “No, no, no, no. I, uh, I’m sorry for the way I’ve been treating you lately.”

“Well, I did try to disobey your orders-”

“No, you did nothing wrong, I’m just… I’m just an asshole.”

Your eyes widened. “Captain-”

“Please call me Cassian. And… I was mainly mad at Julio during that mission. We knew each other when we were younger and we parted on bad terms. I was upset because I wasn’t able to let that go and when I saw you being close with him, I just… I don’t know. Then, people would talk about how you and Julio would make a cute couple and I just got… bothered by it. I didn’t know why, but what everyone has been telling me, they think it’s because I... ,” he cleared his throat again, “I like you.”

“Oh,” you breathed.

Maker, what do you do in this situation? Your heart was beating hard in your chest and at first it was kind of scary. There was no threat, it was just Cassian, but it gradually felt thrilling. Sure, you’ve noticed that the captain was a handsome man, but your mindset to do well on the mission got in the way of appreciating what you saw before you. It wasn’t like you had the time to properly get to know each other anyways.

“You don’t have to agree, but if you want, we could go somewhere offworld the next time our schedule is free, or maybe something simple like a walk or dinner-”

“Okay… I’d like that,” you said softly.

Cassian grinned, showing his dimples for the first time. “Uh, good. Um… good. That’s good. I’ll stop by the medbay later?” He slowly walked backwards towards the door.

“Sure.” You stepped forward and opened the door for him.

Cassian suddenly stumbled forward into you as Jyn, Bodhi, Chirrut, Baze, and Julio tumbled into the quarters. Cassian pulled you out of the way, his arm wrapped around your waist as he turned to see his friends groaning in pain and having the audacity to smile sheepishly up at the two of you.

“So… I’m guessing it went well?” Julio asked with a cheeky grin, carefully picking himself off the ground.

“We’ll see,” Jyn said, “If Cassian does anything to hurt (Y/n), I’ll hunt him down.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Cassian said, looking at you softly.

“What in the galaxy are all of you doing on the ground?” K-2SO demanded, framed by the doorway and blocking most of the corridor.

You sighed at this lovely chaos. You finally felt that this was your second chance at a new life where you could contribute to something good, somewhere where you felt like you belonged and wanted. You were tired of wandering. Tired of being scared to lose something or someone. You finally had people who you knew were going to stick with you.

Jyn walked up and looked over at Cassian with a smile before gently squeezing your shoulders.

“Welcome home, (Y/n).”

-

A/N:  And Happy Valentine’s Day, I guess. Enjoy discount chocolate, buy yourself flowers, and sit back while you watch Diego Luna in Narcos: Mexico

[otheliame]

Day 4: “A Man In Love”

thank you @gentapprentices for such a fun week so far!! im loving seeing everyone’s masc folks having a fun time!

I actually wrote a fic on this, Shift about my apprentice Jamie coming to Vesuvia and meeting Asra for the first time, and then later Nadia, Muriel, and Lucio before the Plague. It’s stinking cute, and here’s a little segment from the first chapter, the Magician, when the fated two meet in the most cliche of circumstances. It’s written from 1rst person POV, 9 years before the canon.

The sun glimmers brightly overhead as I make my way down the crowded streets, weaving between shoppers while keeping close to the fringes of the walkways. I cusp around the edges of the multicolored stalls to avoid the majority of foot traffic, but it’s proving hard as it’s a particularly busy day in the market, everyone is out and about, not just buying but lingering, talking over each other with excited voices in large clusters spanning the entire street. Something’s happening in Vesuvia today, something special. As much as I’d like to know what that something is, I don’t want to get caught up with the crowd… it’s been a long day. 

Today of all days I feel my patience is shorter, Isaac was a bit more of a hardass than usual and it makes the above-average bustle of the street that much more difficult for me to handle, every voice seems to multiply and reverberate in my thoughts like the vibration of insect wings. I’ve lived here for a month now, trying to get by and make a living and it’s been alright thus far, especially since Ksasthra took me in; here is better than there and there was worse than that, so long and so forth, unimportant details now because this is better. Vesuvia is going to be better for me. I can feel it. 

A colorful stream from a showcased scarf plays in front of me on a caught breeze as I try to make my way through the market stalls heading towards the lower district, I have to duck to avoid the hawking shopkeeper so I don’t get drawn into a purchase. Luckily, the multitude of customers I have to dodge and weave to get through keep them busy enough to not pay me the slightest attention. I just finished my shift at the local community theatre, doing basic backstage work for all sorts of performances, and right now I want nothing more than to hide away in my small, shared apartment by the waterfront and rest, especially while the one who agreed to house me, Ksasthra, is still back at the theatre for work until much later. The work I did today wasn’t particularly stressful or anything, but being around my coworkers just made me tired. I still feel like there’s hot breath on the back of my neck wherever I turn, and even now it’s still a hard thought to shake. 

I originally questioned my own decision in living in a city - I’ve never lived in an area with more than a hundred people in a given spot - but at the time I made the choice, I thought I had no choice. There just aren’t any jobs out in the foothills, and I never learned how to live off the land alone. Though, mostly it was the fact that my attempts to blend in or hide in the vast, sparsely populated, wintry lands of the deep northeast proved largely unsuccessful. Soon I had the realization that my best bet of finally being left alone was to find someplace where I could melt into a crowd. And in order to melt, one must first find a crowd, so to the city I had to go. Vesuvia was the largest, farthest city I could’ve gone to without taking a boat, so it was to Vesuvia I went to escape… to escape. It helped as well that the further south I went, the less people’s gazes would cling to my shoulders, which I quite liked. A lot. I’m not sure why though, for I’m certain I stick out like a sore thumb anywhere. Up north it was the… things… I could do. Here it’s the fact that everyone is colorful and loud and I’m not.

I don’t like being around people, usually because people also don’t like to be around me. I’m… weird, for lack of a better word. I have certain… abilities that other people don’t have, and in my experience if you have something that other people don’t they either envy you or fear you, and both of those things are the worst emotions to see on other faces. But here, in a city full of so much vibrant color, varient life, people of a hundred different types… I’m just another uninteresting face. That’s what I wanted when I came here. It’s thoughts like this that keep my grounded when I get too overwhelmed by citylife around here, such as now, when I’m just trying to get home. Before I came to Vesuvia, I would see the amount of people on this street alone over the span of several months. It’s still very… difficult to get used to this new atmosphere, even three months later. Almost to the street corner, almost there, then I’m home free… Maybe I can finally finish that book Ksasthra gave me… 

Suddenly, over the jumbled voices of the shoppers on the street, loud, victorious trumpets resound through the air, stealing all eyes from their tasks to the mouth of the street far down the way. I look up and peer through the heads and shoulders of onlookers to try and see what it is that’s causing such a disturbance before I realize that regardless of whatever it is, this is the perfect opportunity to escape through the crowd to the lower district. Quickly I turn and make my way there, but as I grow close to the corner I realize that whatever is happening is also happening on this end of the street; I see mounted soldiers in gleaming silver armor bearing unfamiliar emblems on tall, colorful standards and shining trumpets, using both of these items to loudly announcing the presence of someone important, someone that I now realize is about to enter this street. 

Other shoppers quickly seem to realize this as well, and like a tidal wave people start to shove others from the middle of the street into the outskirts, pressing shopkeepers back behind their stall counters and pushing everyone in their way into the wooden fixtures. I barely get out of the way just as a burly masculine figure makes his way through but I get caught up in the wave as others start hurrying out of the street’s center, I scurry to keep upright. 

Suddenly I get shoved back by a gaggle of inattentive shoppers trying to get out of the way right as I try to duck between stalls. I trip and lose my footing, I let out an innately sharp cry as fear of being tramped leaps into my throat but before I hit the ground I smash straight through a market stand’s doorway, which was just a wooden bar draped with a velvety, purple cloth hemmed with gold trim. My shoulders smack the cobblestones as a multitude of things fall on me from the counter’s surface, ripped down from when I took the tablecloth with me. I hold up my hands as I’m hit with a waft of rich, heady herbs and dried grasses, then with strange light smacks, like a small stack of papers just fell on me. 

Hands reach under my arms and pull me a little farther backwards into the stall I had fallen into, the touch startles me so much I flinch, making the hands immediately disappear. An intimate voice like honey and wind gasps by my ear over the loud din of the rowdy street, “Are you alright?” 

When the strange hands touch me I snap back to attention and regain my bearings like the flare of a starting fire, I sit up and blink as I try to figure out where I am right when I meet the stranger’s gaze… layers of periwinkle, lavender, and lilac, glimmering like stardust in the evening sunshine. They appear masculine presenting, young like me, definitely not old enough to be considered fully gown, with hazelnut skin that gleams like bronze armor and thick, fluffy, silver-white hair that hangs over those starry eyes in wild, soft curls. Starry they are in more ways than one, because the stranger stares at me with such an awestruck expression I suddenly feel incredibly self conscious half-lying on the floor of their stall - it must be their stall, as they’re the only one behind the counter… The counter I just fell through getting pushed by the crowd. 

“I…! Oh no, I’m so sorry!” I stammer in embarrassment, brushing myself off as I perch my feet in preparation to stand, though as I do I realize I’m covered in all kinds of herbs, dried flowers, and other reagents that I must’ve accidentally taken with me when I ripped this cloth off the counter in my fall. There are also a dozen or more rather beautiful cards scattered on the cobblestones, though they are like no deck of betting cards I’ve ever seen, even at a passing glance and I can tell as such. An array of masks also accompany this strange collection, the first two I see is one that depicts a fox with little ornamental gems hanging from the ears, the other that’s rugged wood configured in a bear’s face with runes carved into its realistically crafted fur. The stranger’s hands linger no longer on but near my shoulders as I pull myself upright, he continues to stare at me with wide, owlish eyes as I speak so fast my words bumble over each other, “I didn’t mean to, that was completely on accident, please forgive me-!” 

“It’s alright!” The boy quickly speaks again with that same gentle, sweet tone, gripping my shoulders to return my gaze to his lavender hues rather than to the cobblestones now littered with his stall’s offerings, and this time I don’t flinch. His lilac eyes flicker across my features then down over my form, checking for injuries as he mutters, “You’re not hurt, are you?” 

I shake my head, kneeling down as I try to gather the fallen reagents and masks onto the purple cloth and recollect the fallen, oriental cards, “I’m fine, I’m fine! I’m so sorry, I should’ve been paying better attention, let me help-” 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” His hands, with long dextrous fingers, smooth palms and marble-carved knuckles breach my vision and stall my hands where they are hovering over the cloth, returning my gaze back to his. I start when I feel the sparks under my skin where we touch, but now that I’m paying better attention I realize it’s not simply just me being startled by the touch, but rather it seems to be some sort of… energy… coming from this boy. A deep torrent of something, power, internal lightning, vitality, runs under his palms like I plunged my hands into the rush of a waterfall. 

He smiles at me when I remeet his gaze, a warm and amicable smile that showcases a handsome dimple in his left cheek as he hums, “Really, it’s alright.” 

I let out a slightly relieved breath, and look back down at our conjoined hands over the spilled tablecloth. Does he feel it, too? I’ve never felt someone’s aura so tangibly before- 

I realize this must be strange, how I loiter over his hands, so I quickly clear my throat and pull mine away. “Erm… What do I owe you for your lost goods?” Idly to distract myself from the embarrassment I pick up a small fallen herb between my thumb and forefinger, I think it’s a rose petal as that’s what it smells like, then one of the fallen cards; it depicts a plain with a sun hanging overhead with long, golden beams down onto the grass, a numeral 0 at the bottom to show which way is up or down I suppose. It looks hand painted too, very ornate and intimately crafted, it’s incredibly impressive, did he paint this himself? I hold these two things up with a curious hum, I glance back up at the stranger after a moment and tilt my head to the side,  “What’re you selling, anyway?”

The boy looks at the rose petal in my hand, then at the card, and then back at me with that same owlish look as before right as the air rings with more trumpets, and the crowd just outside of the safe haven of the stall begins to warble. Intrigued, the both of us rise up to look over the counter just in time to see a carriage driving by through the carved path in the streets that the people have rushed to clear. The carriage is richly ornamented, emblazoned with the same colors as the crests the armored knights accompanying it carry, and obviously is not Vesuvian made, drawn by one white, one black horse with thick, luxurious manes. In the open windows the pulled back, rich violet drapes reveal a regal, female presenting person inside. I only get a few seconds to see her through the crowd, though just by her long, royal facial features and her stature alone I know that she must be some sort of powerful noble, most likely from a far away land. 

Once the carriage passes and the knights fall in on her, the crowds bustle and burst with noise, people whisper amongst themselves theories of who this newcomer is. I idly recall that there was supposed to be some big summer festival happening soon, so perhaps she’s here for that. Though, I’m not very keen on politics or current events beyond that a war just ended, so I don’t know much beyond that. And, frankly, it’s a miracle I know that much. The politics of this land are very different than they are back up in the depths of the northeast. There things are… very different. 

In my peripheral I see the stranger moving again, so I turn towards him just as he lifts the herbs, the masks, and the cards, which we had collected onto the fallen tablecloth, back onto the counter. Then he lifts a hidden leather satchel from within the stall’s inner walls and pack them away inside it, slotting the cards carefully in his palm as he goes. The movements of his arms draw my gaze away from his face for the first time and instead to the layers of colorful cloth around his person; his half-buttoned baby blue tunic that reveals his sternum and a little more above a dark magenta scarf with gold fringes that hangs across one of his shoulders and around his neck. He also dons a vibrant pink, blue, and peach overcoat without sleeves covered in radial patterns, and black trousers that his blouse is loosely tucked into. I swear I see something move around his waist beneath his coat but before I get the chance to investigate further he turns in my direction. Beneath his scarf I catch a glimmer of gold, a choker; it’s engraved with waved designs and somewhat blends in with the rich hues of his skin. Below that a turquoise pendant on a leather chord around his neck hangs over the bared part of his chest in a manner that makes it gleam like the depths of the sea in the sunlight. Richly adorned with beautiful baubles, just like everyone in this city, yet somehow… different. Unique. 

Suddenly I realize just where my eyes are lingering so I quickly snap my attention to his face, where it should have been this whole time. As soon as I do he fixes his gaze to mine and speaks in a low hum, “It doesn’t look like anything was damaged, no need to worry.” A sudden, sly smirk slightly plays the edge of his lips as he catches my gaze, I wonder idly if he caught me looking over his form as he adds with a more heartfelt touch, “I’m glad you’re alright.” 

I blink at him in surprise and feel another rush of crimson snaking its way to my face, I have to clear my throat and rein in my thoughts to pull my attention back to the present. “Right! Of course… Yes. I mean, good. That’s good to hear. That nothing was damaged, I mean…” Jamie, please. I glance over at the broken wooden shards on the ground and paw them with my boot as my mouth continues to run, “Not even something for the stall door?”

The amusement in the boy’s eyes lights like sparks flying from a blacksmith’s hammer as he regards me, a small chuckle escapes his lips as he begins to fold the now-empty tablecloth on his now-barren stall. “If you’re truly so troubled…” He pauses as if he’s reconsidering his words but after the moment’s hesitation he continues, his expression morphing from teasing and playful to curious and… hopeful, almost. “I was just going to close up shop anyway to get dinner… I wouldn’t be opposed to company. Would you consider that a form of ‘repayment’?” He says this with a lilt of sly humor, the light of the evening sun making his gaze seem to truly dance with entertainment.

Now, I am no fool, but for a moment he almost had me thinking that I was one, as my mind reeled and somersaulted over itself trying to figure out what he was implying, but once it finally hits me like a clock striking midnight I blink with a stunned hum as I nervously worm my fingertips into the strap of my satchel around my shoulder. “... Oh!” 

The boy’s gaze softens, quickly adding after a moment as he folds his tablecloth in triangles, “Only if you want to, of course. It’s not every day that someone falls into my stall… I simply can’t help but think it’s a sign of some sort. I’d love to know what kind of sign it is by getting to know you a little.” 

I raise an eyebrow at the other in surprise, thumbing my satchel idly as I respond slowly, tasting my words, “A sign?” 

He looks back at me with an amused raise in his lips, and only then do my thoughts suddenly jog and dig into the scene I find myself in. The herbs, the curious, colorful attire, the cards… cards unlike any playing cards I’ve ever seen. “Oh.” I murmur, flickering my gaze back to his bemused expression, “Are you one of those fortune tellers? Do they let you do that so young?”

The boy smiles and chuckles, placing the tablecloth in his satchel before he splays out the cards in his palm before him, I can see him counting them with his thumb as he answers, “I suppose some would call me that. Though I don’t think there’s an age limit on reading cards…” Content with the amount of cards he has, he returns them into a pile and slides them into a hidden pocket in his apparel before his hand sweeps before me and gentle takes up mine, before I can react he brings it to his lips and kisses my knuckles with a gentlemanly bow, I can feel his lips move on my skin when he speaks in a playful hum, “But you may call me Asra.” 

I swallow thick on a sudden knot of roots in my throat, I smile shyly and chuckle as he releases my hand and straightens back upright. Nervously I laugh a little, simply out of nerves because no one has done that to me before. “... Right. Okay, uh… Asra.” 

There’s a beat of silence as Asra the fortune teller regards me with what I think to be an expectant look, after a beat’s pause he tilts his head to the side with a raise in an eyebrow, “And you are?” 

“Oh!” I blink and laugh awkwardly, rubbing the back of my neck as I feel the heat return to my cheeks, “Right. Names. Introductions… Er- I’m Jamie.” 

“Jamie.” Asra echoes, nodding in response as he seems to savor the vowels on his tongue before he gives me a soft smile, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

I start slightly when someone jostles the stall, apparently on accident as they were attempting to get by a group of people wagging their jaws. When I look back at Asra I see his gaze is flickering across my features with a pensive expression I’m not quite sure what to do with as he moves like water around me towards the hole in his stall where the latch once was. “Have you ever been to the bakery down the block?” He asks suddenly, pausing in the entrance and looking back at me over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. I shake my head, prompting the fortune teller to smile with genuine amusement as he holds out a hand towards me, an open invitation. 

I hesitate, looking at him then at his hand for a long pause. Of course strangers are never to be trusted, but he is rather visually unassuming in terms of combat skill so I have faith that I can handle myself if this one were to try anything. I have been able to protect myself plenty of times in the past. But paranoia aside, I can’t lie, I am a little intrigued by their… disposition. I do find myself wanting to get to know them better, and this aura of theirs… I simply must know more. And I hadn’t exactly had other plans for the evening… 

This may as well happen. 

I slowly take his hand. 

...

Wanna know what happens next? Keep reading !

[strongsassysexysloane]

Take me for a Ride, Jack...6

The day is spent trying to cope with one hell of a hangover headache while vacuuming, mopping and doing a load of laundry. You and Jack casually text back and forth throughout the day before she says she's going out for a bit and will pick you up in the morning. Jamie actually went into work for a short shift because someone called in sick. As an apology for ditching the chores again she brings home your favourite Thai food for dinner and you spend another quiet night in binge watching a tv show together.

You try so hard to go to sleep at a reasonable hour so you can get up in time in the morning but your mind is racing with anticipation for tomorrow. Thankfully, at some point your mind decided to give in and you fell asleep.

You just hop out of the shower the following morning, start toweling yourself off when you hear the scrap of a chair across the wooden floor, followed by. "There's a beautiful woman on a really nice bike who just pulled up." Jamie, your sister, shouts from the front window of the apartment.

You freeze, check your phone, Jack's early. "Ok, I'll be out in a minute." You reply, but your gut drops when you hear the front door open.

"Hey, come on up." Jamie has gone outside to the landing and yelled down to Jack and invited her in. You apartment is on the second floor.

"Hey!" You shout, frantically drying yourself off before your sister says or does anything stupid like show Jack baby photos of you.

You hear mumbling as you slip into your clothes and do something half decent with your hair. There's laughter from the living room and you can't decide if that's a good thing or something to make you feel even more nervous, if that was possible.

Taking one last look in the bathroom mirror before walking out into the living space, you still need to put shoes on and grab your bag but you need to check on Jamie and Jack first. You walk in to the kitchen to see Jamie and Jack sitting at the breakfast bar chatting. Jack looks up at you with a huge smile as soon as you enter.

"Dam, I was just getting to the story about when you were thirteen and you had a huge crus-"

"I will shoot you." You growl and turn your attention to Jack, she was grinning wildly at the interaction between you and your sister, her curiosity peaked by your reaction to a possible embarrassing memory.

"Looks like we still have time, shoes much?" Jamie teases.

"Morning Jack." You ignore her, focusing on the beautiful woman sitting in your apartment. "Want a coffee?" You walk over and lean on the counter opposite them.

"No thanks, was going to grab one on the way, I know this nice little bakery on the way out of town." She leans closer when you do. You fight your natuarl instincts to lean in further for a kiss, it would be so natural and easy but now itsn't the moment. Not when Jamie is staring at you eagerly.

"I'll grab my shoes and bag." You smile leaves your face when you turn to Jamie and glare. "Don't say anything! She a bloody psychologist for christ sakes." You wink back at Jack whos holding in a laugh.

"And she's still going out with you?" Jamie throws the comment and you feel it hit you square in the back of the head as you walk back down the hallway to your bedroom. You've never laced your boots faster.

"Apparently." Jack smirks.

"You mustn't work with her much.." Jamie holds in a laugh but you can hear it in her tone.

"For the love of god. This is why I didn't want you two meeting." You groan but its loud enough because you can hear their laughter.

"See how I didn't let that happen." Jamie replies.

"I'm moving out!" You shout, making sure you've got everything in your bag before closing your bedroom door.  

"That would mean you have to find a place first?" Jamie is now leaning against the counter by the sink, sipping a cup of tea.

You shrug, opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water. "I have alerts on the app to let me know when a new place pops up." You slide the bottle into your bag and turn around to look at Jack.

"That takes the fun out of looking." Jack chimes in.  

"By fun you mean, hassle right?" You smile at Jamie but she's too busy looking back and forth between you two. You are standing close enough to Jack that she's reached out her hand and is absentmindedly brushing her fingers up from the inside of your wrist, half way up your forearm and back until she just holds your wrist. You do love that she's a very touchy person, surprised she's letting your sister see it though.

"Have a great day you two." Jamie gives you a cheeky grin and Jack tugs are your arm. You smile at her and you follow her out.

"She seems lovely." Jack comments as you walk down the stairs.

"What did you two talk about before I came out?" You dare to look at Jack's face and are not comforted at all by the sly smile she's giving you.

"Didn't give us enough time other than introductions, really." She squeezes your still joined hands and you step out onto the pathway leading to the street.

"Somehow I doubt that." But you don't push. You'll hopefully get an answer from Jamie when you get back this afternoon.

Jack hands you your helmet, at least you hope youre the only one wearing it, you tighten your backpack over your shoulders, strap your helmet on and slide onto the bike behind Jack, using her shoulder for balance. You give Jamie a wave as you caught her looking out of the living room window and Jack pulls out onto the road.

The bakery was indeed nice and the coffee rivals the diner's quality. It was a nice little bakery tucked away down a side street on the outskirts of DC. You both have a nice large cup of coffee and this time Jack insists on buying you breakfast. You end up having a delicious pastry and she has a choc chip muffin.

"How did you find this place?" You ask as you walk back to the motorbike.

"Person who I got the bike off mentioned a few nice spots, hang outs that they thought I might like. This was one of them." She looks back to the bakery with a smile. "Been here a few times now, nice people."

"You come here to people watch, don't you?" You laugh at her slight guilty expression. "Nothing wrong with people watching, well depending on the people."

Jack drops her head back with a laugh. "Very true. There's some interesting ones that pass through here."

The ride down the coast is nice, this time the wind isn't too cold and you're wearing a few layers instead of just a windbreaker. You guess it's over an hour possibly two since you left the bakery and Jack pulls into a little coastal town. The main street is littered with little shops, you notice a general store, bakery, barber shop, no big department store to be seen. She pulls the bike into a spot infront of a park, you see stalls up ahead and smile.

"Knew you were the farmers market type." You shake your hair out and rest the helmet on your seat. You watch at Jack ties her hair back up in a messy bun, slightly sad that you won't get the chance to run your fingers through it.

"You pout like that when everyone ties up their hair?" Jack teases and you look away shyly, the trees in the park look very interesting all of a sudden.

Jack grabs your helmet with hers and attaches them to the handle bars with a lock. She walks around to where you are and rests her hand on your lower back and you try not the jump at the touch.

"I can wear it down if you like." She is smirking when you look at her again. Your heights are almost the same, although you think she may be slightly taller and you like that for some reason. She presses more into your back and you take a step towards her.

"Completely up to you." You look down at her lips and snap back to her eyes but she's seen the movement. She brings her other hands up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Maybe later." She winks and you can't help but laugh. She's just so much fun. You loosen the straps on your small backpack so it rests more in the middle of your back, Jack puts her wallet in it but slots her phone into the back pocket of her jeans. You walk hand in hand towards to markets.

It's not too big, although it looks like there's many people from out of town come down for the drive. It's cute, many local business's have stalls set up, local jerky store, honey from a farm further down the coast, plants, lots of plants, coffee. Jack teases you about getting another cup but when you offer to get her one too she just smiles. You stop at a cheese stall.

"I heard you have a cheese fixation." Jack wraps her arm around your back and holds your hips so you are happily forced to stand closer into her side.

"Who?" It take a beat but the answer comes to you as quickly as the smug grin on Jack's lips. "So much for just introductions." Now the thought of what else Jamie told Jack about you crosses your mind.

"Don't worry Y/N, she didn't tell me anything I didn't already know." She squeezes your hip.

You step forward once the customer in front of you buys their products and walks away. "I haven't talked about my cheese addiction to anyone."

Jack laughs softly. "When you asked for extra cheese on the three cheese pizza other other week on the Kulls case, I kinda figured you liked cheese."

"That place does NOT put three cheeses on their pizza." You grumble and take a sample of sharp cheddar from the offerings in front of you. The man behind the counter smiles at you both but leaves you to your conversation.

"Their pepperoni doesn't have much pepperoni on it either now that I think about it." It was Nick's choice to get pizza after staying back at the office trying to track down this thief late at night. He was the only one impressed by the place and you said he mustn't know many good pizza places but after you had Pizza across Italy nothing really matches up.

"Needless to say we are never ordering from Al's again." You go along sampling all the cheese they have to offer. Asking the man a few questions about time frames on the maturity of the cheddar's and costs. You kick yourself for not bringing a cooler bag. He offers that he's got a few containers and iceblocks for an extra cost. You say you'll come back once you've had a look around and see the disappointment in his eyes as he's probably use to people saying that and just never coming back but he doesn't know your love for good cheese.

You walked further down the isle of stalls hand in hand, nothing really caught your eye, more plant stalls, a couple with knitted things, carved toys and objects, Jack joked saying Gibbs should put together a stall for a market.

"That would involve him actually talking to people." You counter and Jack laughs.

"Very true." She runs her hand over a carving of a nice piece of wood with a landscape carving of a man in a small boat fishing on a lake. It was very intricate and you appreciated the hard work put into it.

The markets soon come to an end but you keep walking, there's a nice walkway that leads long the waterfront. The waves splashing up against the rocks, and you squeeze Jack's hand a little tighter appreciating the walk and the comfortable silence. Your eyes are drawn to the shore and the waves crashing back and forth, it soothes you, your nerves fading with ever crash of the water.

"I'm messy you know." It's barely audible from Jack's lips and when you look at her, her eyes far away, deep in her thoughts, you know you heard her correctly. The mood instantly changed.

You come to a stop and tug her close, your hand still in hers, your other hand comes up tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and you linger there for a moment, running your thumb across her cheek. "You think I'm not? No ones neat and if they claim to be they haven't lived." Jack leans into your touch, the side of her mouth twitching into a faint smile, the only recognition you got that she heard your words.

Jack just stared at you for a while and then her gaze turned to the sea. You let the silence settle between you again, mainly because you were waiting for her to speak, not really sure what else you could say. "Nightmares, terrors, probably some anger issues mixed in there as well not to mention the scars."

"You analysing yourself, Jack?" You try to lighten the sombre mood but she just shrugs, so you squeeze her hand tighter. "If you're trying to scare me off, warn me or somehow psych yourself out of seeing what this is between us, don't. I've over thought this way too many times for whatever reason you have. I'm still here." Something hit home for Jack because she turned back to you and brings her hand up cupping your cheek and bringing you close, close that your foreheads rest against each other.

"It's like you know my thoughts." She huffs, it's dry but she's smiling again and you take that as a victory. "I'd kiss you right now but I don't want this pain to be the memory of that."

You peck her cheek and she laughs now, her smile reaching her eyes and your belly does that flip flop thing. "I'll wait for whenever you think is a good moment and your scars are beautiful. Just like you." Jack hums in reply and the silence is deafening for a short while.  

"So I'm going to be the one to kiss first?" She raises her eyebrow and you just smile.

"Depends how long you take." You give her a wink and continue walking. She makes that stomach dropping, heart stopping laugh you love and you swing your joined hands beside you.

[tpwkholland]

Button Up - Tom Holland x Reader

WC: 3.7k Warnings: Mentions of sex, drinking, swearing, fluff, and angst 

Resting your arms on the white balcony, stuck in a daydream, you heard your co-worker shout your name. “Y/n! We’re closing up soon, can you take over the register while I take inventory?” they said. You replied politely, not wanting to make a bad impression, seeing as it was your third day of working at Sal’s Record Shop for the summer. 

“Yeah, I’m on it Alyssa,” you shouted back at your co-worker, quickly turning around and opening the balcony door. Before you stepped inside, a glimpse of red fabric caught the corner of your eye. Looking over, you noticed someone left a floral-patterned shirt amongst all the tables. Quickly picking it up and rushing over to the register, you threw it into a box under the desk labeled under “Lost n’ Found.” 

The store was pretty empty, considering it was almost nine o’clock on a Tuesday night. Slow rock music hummed in the background, golden fairy lights adorned the walls, and the vinyl’s that hung on threads slowly spun around. Glancing at the neon clock above you, which read “8:45.” 

‘Thank god,’ you thought, ‘I can’t be here any longer.’ As you checked out the final customer, a young girl with bright orange hair, you heard heavy footsteps going up the side balcony steps. “Alyssa? Is that you?” You called out. To your dismay, a pair of brown eyes peered around the corner looking at you curiously. The stranger stuck his entire head around the pillar, a curious look gracing his features.

 “Hi! Um, I know you’re about to close but I think I left my shirt here earlier today? Crazy story actually-” The brown-eyed boy uttered. He had a soft British accent, a charming one at that. 

“Yes! I found it earlier today, uh here you go.” You said while reaching under the register, grabbing the cardboard box labeled “Lost n’ Found.” 

Sliding the box over to him, you laughed awkwardly, “Just dig around in there, you’ll find it somewhere.” Scratching the back of your neck out of the discomfort that started to bubble up in the room. 

“Thanks, ah here it is! Thank you so much, again. I’ll get out of your way now.” The mysterious boy muttered and quickly balled up the red shirt, slowly turning around and heading for the door. This was slightly disappointing, he was cute and seemed nice, you wish you would’ve gotten his name. 

As he almost reached the doorway, you shouted: “I’m Y/n, by the way!” Instantly regretting your action, you scrunched up your face in embarrassment. Crazy questions and self-deprecating thoughts ran through your head. 

Why would you ever do that Y/n? He’s going to think you’re a freak, or some stalker or something! I mean, he was just there to get his shirt, nothing else! You always ruin things like this oh my go- 

The beautiful boy’s light voice interrupted your thoughts, “I’m Tom. See you around Y/n.” He shouted back, a sweet, genuine smile appeared on his face. As the door’s bell rang, signaling his exit, you played with the sleeves of your flannel. Rocking your feet back in forth, thinking He smiled at you Y/n, you know what this means? He’s totally in love with you!  

Ok, so maybe you’re overthinking a simple smile and a name. But someone hasn’t been that nice to you before, without wanting to go hookup later in the night. Shaking your head, you lifted the Lost and Found box back underneath the register. Then, you grabbed your bag from the stockroom by the lockers and locked the front door. 

 The street outside Sal’s Record Shop was dark except for the few street lamps that lit the street. Most of the stores were closed by now, few people were walking along the sidewalk and some across the parking lot to their cars. As you were about to walk home, you felt a buzz in your pocket. Pulling out your phone, you saw you received a text from your friend, Y/f/n. 

 “Heyyyyy r u coming to the Alibi Room tonight? I know it’s a weird time and shit but I’m bored and I kind of promised this guy I’d meet him there” - Y/f/n   

“Ugh fine, I’m on my way.” - Y/n 

Rolling your eyes at your friend’s spontaneous plans, you turned around and headed to the Alibi Room, a local bar where you and your friends sometimes hung out. Walking down the dimly lit streets, you finally reached the bar. Opening the door, you were greeted with an arm slung across your shoulders. “Y/n!! Thank GOD you’re here, I’ve been waiting for you all night! Well not all night, more like ten minutes, but it’s technically the same thing.” By now, Y/f/n was yelling in your ear and obviously has had one too many. 

Grabbing her shoulders and positioning her upright, you asked her, “So why am I here again?” 

“To be my wing-woman duh.” She replied, slurring her words slightly. 

“Y/f/n, I can’t stay for long ok? I’m working a double shift tomorrow and I have to be up super early- “

“Ssshhhh you’re boring! I’m going to go find Harry, or Haz. I kinda forget the-” she hiccuped,  “-guy’s name but I’ll figure it out. Ooh there he is!” Y/f/n giggled, loudly running over to a guy with blue eyes and blonde curly hair.  

I need a drink. You thought, quickly making your way over to the bar. “Hey Kev, get me a vodka on the rocks would ya?” You asked the bartender working at the moment, Kevin. A tall muscular man, about 6’4, who’s been working there for as long as you remember. “Hard day?” He asked while making your drink, not really caring about what’s going on with you. “You could say that.” To which you replied, sliding over some bills in exchange for your drink. Quickly spinning around and looking for Y/f/n, you spotted Tom across the bar. He was standing near Y/f/n, some guys, one of which you assumed was Haz, and some girls.

Hopefully, he thinks I’m not stalking him. You thought. Avoiding eye contact with him, you glanced down and made your way over to Y/f/n. Before you could reach her, she ran off to the bathroom with Haz’s hand in hers. Over your shoulder, you heard another one of the boys yell, “Wrap it before you tap it, mate,” which earned some cheers and laughs from the group.

 Making sure she returned home safely, you decided to stick around a little longer. Pulling up a stool at the bar and sipping your drink, the night already sucked. Scrolling through your phone, you heard a slight cough behind you and felt a tap on your shoulder. Glancing over at the dark figure, you saw it was Tom once the bar’s lighting fell on him. He looked really beautiful, his tousled curls were stuck against his forehead and his hands were in his jean pockets.

“Hey Y/n, I’m the guy who lost his shirt, remember me?” 

“Actually, I do, considering I saw you about an hour ago...” You replied with a smirk.

“I guess you’re right about that one, love. Mind if I buy you a drink?”

Blushing at the fact that Tom called you ‘love,’ you accepted his offer. As Tom waved over the bartender, you heard Y/f/n yell from across the bar. Perfect timing, just when I had a shot with him. You thought this was your chance! “I JUST HAD SEX! GUESS WHAT EVERYONE? I HAD SEX!” Y/f/n, to your surprise, was standing on a dirty table, sloppily swaying her hips to the beat of whatever music was playing in the back. Running over to Y/f/n and leaving your drinks with Tom following suit, the two of you helped her get off the table.

“Shit, Tom- here take her, I’m going to call an uber.” You said to Tom while lightly dropping Y/f/n in his arms. Once an uber finally arrived, you signaled Tom to help you take Y/f/n outside. Opening the car door and hauling Y/f/n in, you stood outside for a minute, taking the whole night in.“Thank you, Tom, for helping me with Y/f/n, she’s…well, she’s Y/f/n I guess.”

“No problem, I’m sorry we didn’t get that drink. I guess I’ll see you around then?”

“Yeah, see you.” You gave Tom a final warm smile and headed into the uber, shutting the door and letting out a sigh. Y/f/n was fast asleep, her head pressed against the window. You gave the uber driver Y/f/n’s address, deciding to crash at her place. Shortly after paying him, you helped carry her inside. Helping Y/f/n change into her pajamas was not easy, but by the time she hit her bed she was fast asleep. Right before you went to sleep, you placed a glass of water and two Advil by Y/f/n’s nightstand. You’ll definitely need this tomorrow morning. You thought. Rummaging around through Y/f/n dresser, you picked out a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. Slipping into those, you made your way to her couch and set your phone alarm for 7:00.

 ***************

Waking up to a hungover Y/f/n was not fun. Seriously. She walked out of her bedroom in an oversized hoodie-wearing sunglasses (how extra), groaning about her headache. You, on the other hand, had other things to deal with. It was 7:10, you had to be at work in less than an hour. “Y/f/n I’m stealing your clothes!”

“Don’t talk so loud damnit! My ears are ringing.”

Rolling your eyes, you went over to Y/f/n’s closet and picked out an outfit. Heading over to the bathroom, you brushed your hair and teeth, washed your face, and did other things that were a part of your routine. Sal’s and Y/f/n’s apartment were only ten minutes away from each other, so you decided to walk. As you made your way through busy streets, you saw a farmer’s market had been set up. Fresh fruit and vegetables were being sold, flowers and other goodies everywhere. Almost getting caught in the chaos, you remembered your destination and kept on walking.

Walking into the store, you greeted Alyssa with a smile. “Good morning Y/n,” They said, “Someone said they were here to see you so I let them in.” Alyssa walked away with a suggestive smile on their face and headed into the break room. Looking around, you saw Tom was looking at the records in the R&B section. In his right hand, he was holding a small, yet beautiful bouquet of yellow wildflowers. He looked so invested in the music, it was beautiful in a way. Snapping yourself out of your trance, you walked over to him.

“Hey Tom, um what are you doing here?”

“Well I really wanted to thank you again for saving my shirt, it was a gift from my mum and she’d kill me if I lost it.”

“It’s no problem, really.” As you were about to turn around and head back to the register he stuck out his right hand, shoving a bouquet of flowers in front of you. 

“Uh, I got these for you.” His beautiful brown eyes stared at you, he looked nervous.

“And,” He continued, “We never did get that drink. Maybe 8am is a little too early for some beers, but I think ice cream could never hurt.”

“I think you’re right Tom, my lunch break starts at 12. See you then.” Turning around and heading back to the register, you were pretty shocked at yourself. That was smooth. Honestly, you’re not one to be good at flirting or leaving people asking for more. But this time, it was different. It was better.

 The time until your lunch break could not have gone by any slower. You loved your job, being surrounded by music and talking about it, what can get better than that? But instead of dreaming about The Wombats’ new album or dream concerts you’d attend, you cannot seem to get your mind off of Tom. As the time came closer to 12 o’clock, butterflies began to grow in your stomach. It’s just a date Y/n, You thought, You’ve been on a few dates before, what makes this so different? 

What does make this so different? Was it the fact that a flipping t-shirt brought you two together and hauling your drunk friend homemade you realize he still wanted to see you? The idea of this made you happy and a little bit giddy, you felt as if you were in a typical rom-com.

 At exactly 12 on the dot, Tom came strolling in, a bright smile appeared on his face when both of you made eye contact. His hair was gently combed back and he was wearing the button up you found from the night before. Ducking below the register and grabbing your bag, you stood next to Tom, who, to your surprise, greeted you with a side hug. Slightly blushing at the interaction, the two of you made your way outside. That was when you realized you guys didn’t set up a place to go. “We didn’t think this through, did we?” You slightly laughed at this, especially Tom’s reaction when he realized it too. The two of you stood in silence for a few seconds now, until you had an idea.

“You know what? I heard there’s this great gelato place down the street, sound good?” You asked him. Tom nodded his head and waited for you to lead the way. As the two of you walked down the busy road, your hands kept brushing against each other. After reaching the stand and order your gelato, the two of you sat down on a bench located by the edge of a small lake. 

The two of you quietly ate your gelato and were looking out into the scenery until you felt something cold hit your cheek. Bringing up your finger to your right cheek, you noticed a dark pink substance covering it. Gelato? Looking over at Tom, he had the cheekiest smirk on his face. “You’re so on.” You replied, flinging some right onto the tip of his nose. His mouth formed into a slight ‘o’ shape as you quickly got up and began slowly backing away from the bench. Tom scooped a huge amount onto his spoon and it looked as if he was about to fling it on you.

 “Don’t you dare.” You slowly said, taking a step with every word. Suddenly, Tom launched a massive amount of gelato straight onto your shirt. Letting out a shrill scream, you wiped it off, already noticing how your shirt was ruined. Tom’s smile was instantly wiped off his face, he thought he truly made you upset. “Y/n I am so sorry for getting it all over your shirt, I didn’t mean to-” Splat. Two fingers flung gelato all over Tom’s face, which resulted in you laughing. 

“I win.”

“Oh, you’re going to get it now.” Tom murmured, his voice sounding extremely flirtatious. Just as you began to run away, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. “Mmm I think I won.”

Keeping eye contact, it was if the world froze for a minute. The two of you were locked in this trance, your eyes darting back and forth between each other’s lips. As you both began to lean in, your phone started ringing. “Shit, shit I should probably get this. It’s my coworker.” Picking up the phone, you realized that your lunch break ended ten minutes ago. “Tom, I’m sorry but I need to get back to work, like now. I’m late. Call me? Here’s my number.” You quickly said while scribbling down your phone number on one of the spare napkins. Turning away, you ran off in the opposite direction, headed for work.

 ******

Every night, Tom called you. Sometimes, he would pop into Sal’s and ask you about certain records just because he wanted to talk to you. Dates became a frequent thing and soon enough the two of you decided to be like most people and put a label on your relationship: “dating.”

When Tom told you he was an actor, you were surprised. Of course, you’ve heard of Spiderman and all, but superheroes weren’t really your thing. Tom soon enough introduced you to his brothers and Haz, otherwise known as ‘The guys at the bar and that one-person Y/f/n slept with.’ The six of you would always hang out with each other, going to as many restaurants and places as possible. One sunny Sunday afternoon, you all were hanging out at the beach. Harrison and Y/f/n were tossing around a beach ball in the ocean, Harry was out looking for shooting locations, Sam was collecting shells, and Tom and you were snuggled up on top of a large beach towel. The two of you were tanning, mindlessly talking about everything and anything. Wrapped in his infamous floral shirt, it was difficult to tan with an angel lying next to you. 

You were tracing circles on the light freckles that graced Tom’s back. He snuggled into your side, constantly leaving you little shoulder and neck kisses. The sun made the warmth in your heart grow for Tom, he was amazing. Even though the two of you have been dating for a little over a month, things have been going great.

He was the current spark in your life, the thing that made every moment worth it. And you? You were his rock. Though the media didn’t know about you whatsoever, you were everything to him, helped him run lines, calmed him down when he was stressed, and most importantly treated him for who he was- not for what he had.

To both of your dismay, summer was coming to an end. Most ice cream trucks stopped showing up, fewer people went outside, the usual. But to you, this meant that Tom had to film more and you were going back to college. It was a week before you had to officially leave town and Tom was flying out tomorrow morning. You both laid in a hammock in his rental house’s backyard, curled up next to each other with fingers intertwined. It was as if time had frozen, the two of you were laying in comfortable silence, too scared to address the elephant in the room. 

Birds were chirping around you and beautifully shaped clouds were passing by in the sky, to a stranger this scene would’ve looked beautiful, but in reality, it was a tragedy. Letting out a strangled moan, Tom said, “We’re so fucking good Y/n.” You swallowed deeply, knowing how right he is. Knowing that you’ve never liked, no loved someone as much as him over the past few months. But it was doomed. Your relationship was destined to fail, a beautiful mess. With Tom being on set, going on press tours, and whatever movie stars do, you were studying your ass off at college and working part-time at a bookstore.

 ***** 

Toying with Tom’s silver chain, you let a tear slip out. Tom noticed this, but he couldn’t do anything to stop it. He was too busy reminiscing on all the amazing times you two have had together. Waking up next to you was a fantasy. The way the sunlight hit your cheekbones and lit up your back. How you’d shimmy under the covers once you’d notice he was staring at you, but peek up at him with a toothy grin, which led to being attacked with kisses.

 ******

The way you took Tom on his first Ferris Wheel ride at the county fair.

“Y/n…love…we could be doing something much more fun at home. But home is the other way around! Yep, darlingggg.”

“Tommy, you’re going to love it, please?” Looking at him with wide eyes, how could he refuse?

“Alright love, fine.”

You let out an excited squeal and latched on to Tom’s arm, dragging him to the line. After what felt like forever, the two of you were ready to go. Handing the worker two tickets, you both sat down in your carriage. Tom’s leg was bouncing up and down at 100 miles per minute, which earned a slight eye roll from you. “C’mon babe, you have nothing to be worried about.” Your words of comfort almost did him justice, until the ride started moving and all the blood drained from Tom’s face. Kissing his cheek, you murmured sweet assurances in his ear, hoping they would tide him over until you guys reached the top.  Finally reaching the peak of the ride, your eyes lit up with excitement and wonder which made Tom happy. He was happy to see you happy.

“Look Tommy! You can see everything from here- The Alibi Room, Sal’s Records, that gelato stand, so much!”

He had to admit, the view was pretty, but you were prettier. Overcoming his fear was worth seeing you happy, it always was.

 ****** 

 You opened your mouth to say something, maybe something that could save your relationship. But it was too late, nothing could save it. Built from a lost floral t-shirt, the heartache was what it left. As you began to talk, you heard a yell coming from inside Tom’s house. It was Haz. 

“Tom, mate we’re leaving early tomorrow, and it’s getting late. Time, you get to bed, yeah?”

Harrison was right. You and Tom locked eyes for the last time, in an attempt to soak up each other’s essence. Untangling each other’s limbs, you squeezed Tom’s hand and began to make your way home. Tears began to flow from your eyes when Tom’s back was facing you, tears flowed from him as well.

This was life, this was pain. The two of you were never meant to be together, it was fate. Fate hurt, fate broke you from the inside out. A beautiful fucking mess.