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drysdalesworld · 10 months ago

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PHASE ONE — always trust the match maker (jamie’s version)

part two

pairing(s): jamie drysdale x fem!reader, platonic!trevor zegras x fem!reader (besties), fem!oc (georgie) x fem!reader (roommates)

genre: a smidge of angst (like talks of breakup/dates gone wrong + reader feeling like she’s not good enough for love), tons of fluff (jamie is a lovesick fool let’s be real), & comfort (in regards to hugs, etc.)

word count: 5.1k+

warning(s): trev thinking he’s cupid, bickering, trevor recruiting readers roommate into his “master plan”, mentions of familial teasing & making reader feel bad about her dating life, drinking + mentions of drinking, mentions of a party, cursing, lowkey moon!reader & sun!jamie, this is literally mostly filler lol

note(s): please remember that this is a work of fiction & nothing the characters in this work say or do is a reflection of them or what they do. i always try to make the reader as racially ambiguous as possible so please let me know if i did not achieve that in this work! :) reader’s job is also mentioned as a journalist. please ignore the numerous amount of times i say painted 😭

It was an ongoing joke between your loved ones that you had bad taste in romantic partners. It somehow always being brought up during family gatherings, giggles gracing their lips as they recalled your past failed relationships and the kinds of people you had brought home throughout the years. You knew that they never truly meant to hurt you with their words but you couldn’t help but feel your stomach drop and frown at their teasing everytime it happened. This was something that followed you from your hometown to your new place of residence in Anaheim, California, even during your near four years of living there. Especially when your good friend of those four years, Trevor Zegras, noticed the pattern one night and the world of your shitty past relationships were revealed to him.

( Trevor glanced at your approaching figure from the corner of his eye as you walked into his and Jamie’s small apartment, having just come back from somewhere as you paused by the doorway to take off your shoes. The man was in the kitchen making himself a bowl of cereal when he had heard the lock and door knob turn.

“What’s up?” He’d asked.

A sigh was the only thing he heard as a response, the sound of your shoes hitting the floor barely a thud on the rugged portion of the entrance, something you had insisted on getting Trevor and Jamie as you had wanted to give their dull and barely decorated apartment some life.

“Alright, I know that sigh. What’s wrong?”.

It creeped you out at first at how well Trevor knew you when you first became friends. He was able to read you like a book, as clear as day. You never met someone like that before. Who took their time in memorizing your little habits and quirks, being able to immediately clock them and check in on you if needed. You had eventually found comfort in that. It was something that you had appreciated about your friend.

“Just a bad date s’all,” you replied, eyes still downturned towards the floor as you make your way to the kitchen, laying your warm and sweaty face onto the cool granite of the counter.

Trevor had turned his body towards you the minute you sighed, concerned laced in his facial features. His eyebrows furrowed as he watched you lay against the cold surface.

“A bad date? I didn’t know you went on a date tonight. What happened?” He softly asked.

Another thing you were grateful for was that Trevor wouldn’t immediately start teasing you about something if he saw you in a state like this, upset and flustered. It was something you had addressed to him very early on in your friendship and he respected that.

You briefly contemplated lying to the boy. But you told the truth anyway, deciding that this was something you needed to get off your chest.

“He was just such a…dick, to put it nicely. He was late by nearly an hour and talked about his ex the entire time. He even expected me to get the bill, which I wouldn’t have minded doing but he practically insulted me about my job saying how the only thing journalists do is gossip and shove rumors down everyone's throat. I literally couldn’t wait to leave and get back here”.

Trevor had a frown painted on his lips once you finished explaining. He didn’t know much of your dating history. Only that most of the people you dated were exes for a reason. Hearing about someone treating you like that made him sad and think how you most definitely deserved better.

The brunet didn’t respond to your explanation, only handing you his bowl of cereal and going to pour himself a new one as he lead you to the couch afterwards, eager to take your mind off of the lackluster night. )

You are forever grateful to have someone like Trevor within your life. He treated you like family and never failed to make you feel welcomed within his presence. Something that you very rarely felt with anyone.

And just as you felt a smile spread across your face at the memory of Trevor giving you his last bit of favorite cereal from that night in an effort to make you feel better, your roommate, Georgie, had pulled you out of your thoughts with the wave of her hand passing over your eyes.

“Hello? Earth to (Y/N)”.

You hummed out in acknowledgment, eyes shifting from their glazed over position to the figure of your roommate. She huffed in response.

“Where were you just now, babe? Wait – no. Don’t tell me. I know exactly who you were thinking of,” she smiled, bright teeth on full display as a teasing look spread across her face. “Was it a certain roommate of the Anaheim Ducks player number 11? Or a darked haired man that absolutely cannot play guitar for the life of him?”.

Her words caused you to groan out and roll your eyes, “No. I was not thinking of Jamie, for your information”.

Georgie didn’t seem to believe you, eyes narrowing as she tried to decipher whether or not you were lying to her.

The woman across from you knew of the ‘crush’ you had on the dark haired man. It seemed to be quite obvious to everyone but the man in question. Georgie had commented one too many times on the kind of look you give him when he walks into the room or the kind of smile that subconsciously spreads across your lips when he makes conversation with you, something that Jamie rarely ever does to other people. You always insisted that he must’ve felt comfortable with you to engage in talk with you, but your roommate never failed to point out that he never talks to people first and he always approached you first to talk.

( “Babe, he practically gets excited when he sees you. I mean, dude, he has the biggest smile ever and willingly makes conversation with you first. I don’t see him do that to Trevor every time he sees him”. )

But regardless of the confirmations and signs that Jamie Drysdale may like you the way you like him, you always denied it. He felt too real. Too soft to be tainted and touched by your scarred heart. Too loving to have to put up with you. With the kind of dating history you had, it was hard to believe that you weren’t a problem or a burden to others when in a relationship. Many of your exes had stupid excuses to leave you, all which left you heartbroken. It was hard to not believe the kinds of things they said after every relationship you had ended in a disaster one way or another. You completely believed that it was something you did that made them all leave and you did not want that for Jamie. You didn’t think you’d be able to do that to him nor would you be able to recover from the inevitable heartbreak that awaits you on the other side. It was better to admire him from afar you had decided.

( You did not deserve someone so soft, so loving, and so kind. He looked at the world through rose tinted glasses and you forever had cracked lenses that were barely hanging on the frame of your face. It would never work out. )

Georgie licked her lips as she saw you begin to spiral back into your own head, sighing as she let out a breathy fine and left it at that. She returned to the topic she was discussing with you before she noticed you weren’t even paying attention to the words she was speaking. She wasn’t even entirely sure you were currently listening to her as your eyes began to glaze over once again.

Maybe I should take up Z on his offer, she thought to herself, fingers beginning to twirl around a strand of hair as she continued. Getting J and (Y/N) together is something that definitely needs to happen.

————

“Ah! There she is! The girl of the hour!”.

You wanted to crawl in on yourself and never come out when Trevor’s loud voice reached your ears upon entering his full and cramped apartment. You rolled your eyes and shook your head, raising the box of beers you had picked up at the last minute above your head. More cheers erupted upon your gesture.

Trevor had informed you of his ‘little’ get together approximately an hour before it was planned to start. It was nearing the beginning of the hockey season and he wanted to party and celebrate before his days were filled with hockey and nothing but hockey. He practically pleaded with you to come over when you had declined his offer, comfortably in bed with your comfort movie playing as you got ready to have an early night in. You only caved when Georgie bursted through the door and dragged you out of bed, demanding you accompany her to Trevor’s party. And that’s how you ended up nearly two hours late to his party with beer in hand as an apology with Georgie trailing behind you.

“God bless you sweets,” Trevor mumbled as he engulfed you in a hug, brushing his lips against your hairline, snatching the box of beers from your hands and setting it on the table upon pulling away.

You muttered a yeah yeah before making a beeline for the kitchen fridge, dead set on getting your usual drink. You weren’t a big drinker nor were you able to handle hard alcohol so Trevor always made sure to get you more flavored drinks so you wouldn’t feel left out on the ‘buzz’ of the party.

The cool air of the fridge felt nice on your face compared to the warm heat that began to cling onto your skin from the amount of bodies around you. But as your eyes scanned the fridge and its compartments, you realized Trevor must’ve forgotten to stock up as you couldn’t find a single drink of yours in sight. A frown quickly made its way onto your lips as you realized, already defeated.

“Some people were taking them so I hid them in my room. They might be a little warm if you still want them,” a soft and familiar voice spoke from the right of you, behind the shelter of the silver fridge door.

You slightly stilled upon hearing his voice. But that didn’t stop a smile from making its way onto your face.

“Hey, Jamie,” you spoke, gently closing the door of the fridge, fingers still lightly wrapped around the handle. “That’s nice of you to do. You didn’t have to do that y’know”.

He flashed you his infamous smile, making that warm and fuzzy feeling crawl up your stomach and settle in your chest. “I know. I wanted to. Plus, I know you would’ve given Trevor shit for it and he seems too occupied right now to make a trip to the store for more”.

A giggle left your mouth in response to the man's observation. He wasn’t wrong though. You would've definitely given Trevor shit for not putting the drinks in a safer place, making him feel bad to the point that he would be grabbing his keys and muttering a I’ll be back before exiting through the front door.

“It’s the least I could do for the amount of shit he’s put me through,” you joked, leisurely following Jamie as he led you to his room, weaving through the numerous bodies littered throughout the apartment.

You faintly heard the man chuckle, his head shaking as the fluffy ends of his hair followed the motion of his head. You found yourself smiling harder at the fact that you made Jamie Drysdale laugh, even if it was for a brief moment.

“Well, he definitely deserves it,” he responded, slightly turning towards you as he twisted the door knob of his bedroom door and opened it, revealing his half haphazardly clean room and the brightly colored alcoholic canned beverages on his night stand. “That’s all of what was left. I tried to get more but nobody would budge”.

He rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke, eyes trained on the cans. He truly did try to convince those who had the same cans in their hands if they would be willing to trade it for another kind of drink. But they all just looked at him weirdly and declined, practically chugging the liquid in front of him to put more emphasis on their decision. Jamie knew they were one of the only alcoholic drinks that you would consume on nights like these and he didn’t want you to miss out on the fun, if there was even any to start with, just because Trevor wasn’t diligent enough to hide them somewhere else.

Your heart began to swell at the sweet gesture from the boy next to you. It was probably one of the sweetest things someone has done for you in a very long time. It made the warm feeling in your chest grow and spread up into your cheeks.

“Thank you so much, Jimmy. I really appreciate it. This is more than enough, trust me,” you spoke, a gentle smile on your lips as you did so.

Jamie only nodded in reply to your words, copying your smile as he turned his head towards you and away from the condensating cans. The tips of his pale ears tinted pink.

He watched you as you made your way to his night stand and grab a can, promptly opening it before taking a sip. His blue eyes stayed on your figure as you tipped your head back to drink the beverage, lukewarm liquid filling your mouth before sliding down your throat as you swallowed. Jamie found himself copying you subconsciously, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed too. Everything about you seemed to enchant him, never able to take his eyes off of you as you did whatever or talked about whatever. There was just something about you that pulled him in. And he began to find himself addicted to it at times. Always itching for a new fix.

“You want one?” you asked, nodding your head towards the cool cans, effectively pulling Jamie out of his stupor.

“Oh, uh, no. It’s okay. I already had, like, three beers anyway. I think I’m done for the night,” he responded.

He was lying. He only had one. He was too nervous to drink. Trevor had informed him that you were going to be attending the party and he suddenly couldn’t stomach anymore alcohol. It’s not that you made him nervous in a bad way necessarily. The kinds of nerves he experienced around you was hard to put into words but the only thing he could describe it as was something akin to having an elementary school crush. Those excited nerves to see the new kid in school that you found cute. The kind that made him want to pull the flowers from the elderly lady’s garden in his neighborhood and gift them to you as a token of his love. The kind that made him see you everywhere, even in the littlest things.

You narrowed your bright eyes at him, not being able to accurately tell if he was lying. A simple nod of your head was your only response as you took another sip of your drink and sat down on his neatly made bed covers.

You stared at the pictures tapped to his wall. Pictures of his family to his idols scattered the plain white walls of his room. It made you smile that he displayed those he adored and loved on his bedroom walls. You began to wonder what it would look like if he had you on there amongst the pictures of his loved ones. But as quickly as the thought popped into your head, it went away just as fast.

“I must’ve been like, six or something in that picture,” he spoke, gently making his way towards you, pointer finger brushing up against the printed picture of him as a child surrounded by both of his parents and brother, Pre-K graduation certificate tightly grasped in both hands as he brightly and widely smiled at the camera, his freckles danced across the bridge of his nose and apples of his cheeks. “Had just graduated Pre-K. My parents made such a big deal out of it. I thought it was the best day of my life back then”.

The softness of voice managed to catch you off guard a little, seeing a side of him you never really got the chance to see.

“You look extremely proud of yourself, Drysdale. Very cute too. Your parents look proud too,” you said, tone matched in the same gentleness as his.

A grin made its way onto his face as he angled his head towards yours, eyes gleaming in something you weren’t able to recognize as he sat next to you.

“Oh, I know. Had all the older moms fawning over me and my adorably cute looks,” he joked, chuckling to himself.

You couldn’t help but let out a giggle as well, gently pushing the thigh pressed against yours, shaking your head to yourself. “Of course. I wouldn’t’ve expected anything less, Jamie. Bet you had all the Pre-K girls chasing after you on the blacktop too, huh?”.

“Nah, they had cooties. I couldn’t catch that!” he exclaimed in response, a hearty laugh escaping his soft lips as he gently pushed you with his shoulder, causing you to tip over a bit onto his pillow.

You had only gotten a small whiff of the smell but that was enough to make your insides twist and warmth in your body to completely engulf you. His pillow carried a small smell of his normal scent, something that made your mind entirely short circuit and mouth slightly water. You knew Jamie took well care of himself and smelled good. But getting more than just a quick sniff of it as he leaned in to listen to what you had to say while in a busy, buzzing bar or brushed past you made you slightly freeze in your tracks and just want to drown yourself in whatever he used as cologne.

Geez, get yourself together girl, the voice in your head scolded, shaking its head at your behavior and thoughts.

Jamie had opened his mouth to say something else when the door swung open, bouncing off the wall it had made contact with. A couple had stumbled into the room shortly after, lips and arms entangled with each other as they obviously wanted to find a vacant room for some privacy.

Your jaw dropped open in shock at the sight in front of you, a creeping smile beginning to spread on your lips as you tried not to laugh out loud. A couple just barged into Jamie’s room to try to have a fun time without realizing they were occupying the room.

“Uh,” Jamie coughed, springing up from his seated position to stand up, silence and awkwardness filling the air of the room as the couple halted their movements and quickly pulled away from each other.

Apologizes began spewing from their lips, blushes evident on both of their skins as they back up and out of the room, leaving the door wide open as they left in a hurry.

The laugh you were keeping in finally escaped your mouth as you doubled over, clutching your stomach as you found the entire situation hilarious.

Jamie only looked at you like a wounded puppy, frowning as he whined about the couple trying to hook up in his room and how gross that was especially since the two of you were currently in the room. But he eventually gave in and joined in on your laughing fit, just happy to have had spent some time with you before the both of you were so rudely interrupted.

( “What do you mean some couple barged into his room? Did they think it was empty?” Trevor exclaimed, the tone of it whiny. “Does that mean they didn’t do it?”.

Georgie rolled her eyes at the six foot something man. She shouldn’t’ve even agreed to this stupid plan in the first place. Getting you there was a hassle within itself and then to have Trevor’s ‘spectacular’ idea fall to shit not even an hour and a half into the two of you being there was evidence enough that Trevor Zegras was indeed not a match maker.

“I don’t know, Trev! They just came out of his room like two minutes ago. I was watching the door when I saw the couple approach it. I don’t think (Y/N) and Jamie were able to do anything. Your plan sucked, dude. Major time”.

Trevor only groaned in defeat. The first phase of his plan failed. Big time. And now he had to come up with something else to try to get his roommate and best friend together. And God knows that Trevor Zegras will do anything in his power to make it happen. )

————

You didn’t know why you kept doing this to yourself. Kept going on dates with people who just simply didn’t care for you or cared for what you had to say and just wanted a quick succession for the week. It truly boggled your mind on how you managed to attract these kinds of people and had you wondering if you did anything to deserve this kind of treatment.

As you walked in the pouring rain from another horrible date, you found yourself walking the familiar path to Trevor and Jamie’s apartment. Something you always found yourself doing after a particularly hard day, or awful date in this case. It was like your legs had a mind of their own as you appeared in front of the wood door, knuckles rapping at the hard surface before you could think twice about it.

A barely audible coming! and shuffling came from the other side of the door, it swinging open once the owner of the voice finally managed to get to the wooden door.

“Hey! – Oh. What happened? Why are you soaked?”.

Jamie had stood before you, hair slightly disheveled as he probably was gaming or getting ready for a nap before you had interrupted it with your presence. A frown also made its way onto his lips, the corners of his mouth drooping. He looked legitimately concerned as to why you had shown up at his apartment at seven-thirty at night soaked to the bone with your heels in hand.

You must really look like a mess right now, you whispered to yourself in your head, mentally scolding yourself for disturbing whatever he was doing before you had shown up.

“Are you okay?” He softly asked, ushering you inside the warm apartment with the same amount of gentleness his voice carried. God, that made you want to cry on the spot.

Your wet and cold hand quickly slipped out of his warm calloused ones as you pulled it back, stepping back into the hallway, shaking your head as you went to open your mouth. “It’s not that big of a deal anyway. I don’t know why I stopped by. I’m sorry for disturbing your night”.

Your words seemed to have an effect on Jamie as his frown deepened and hand went out to grasp yours back into his own. Eyes filled with concern as he tried to decipher why you would say that.

It must’ve been a big enough deal for her to end up here, Jamie thought to himself as he knew that his and Trevor’s apartment was often a safe place for you. More like the people renting the space we’re the comfort than the home itself.

“Please,” he pleaded, “Come inside. You don’t have to tell me what happened but at least wait until the rain stops to go back home”.

When you had looked up, Jamie’s blue eyes held such concern that you wanted to comfort him, ignoring your own hurt to make him feel better. Maybe that’s why your relationships always ended badly. You put others needs and feelings before your own, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care with Jamie.

You simply nodded your head to his request, allowing him to gently drag you into the warmer apartment as he took your discarded heels from your hands and dropped them onto the floor, other hand still in your own.

“I can get some of Trevor clothes for you to wear if you’d like. He’s out with Mason and the boys tonight, but he’ll be back soon,” he whispered as if he was scared you’d crack and crumble to the ground in a thousand pieces if he spoke any louder.

“Please,” you muttered, now shaking from the rain you endured only minutes prior. Droplets of water still dropped from the soaked end of your dress and hair.

Jamie mumbled a quick okay before urging you to follow him, your soft hand still grasped in his rough one before he gently dropped it to retrieve some clothes for you.

Upon entering the apartment, its warmth settled itself into your skin, causing a shiver to run through your body, dress still dripping from your walk in the rain. Wrapping your arms around your shaking torso, you shook your head at yourself and began to mumble about how stupid it was to go to Trevor and Jamie’s instead of yours. You didn’t want him seeing you like this. You felt pathetic enough already and didn’t need him judging you for your lackluster of a dating life.

“I couldn’t find anything of Trevor’s that was clean, or that didn’t look suspiciously dirty. So I hope you don’t mind wearing some of mine,” Jamie spoke up, a large sweatshirt and some gray sweatpants in hand. An awkward smile painted his lips as he nervously held out the pieces of clothing for you, heart beating rapidly in his chest as you grabbed the clothes from his grasp.

“Thank you,” you shuttered, lips a paler color as your teeth knocked themselves together.

Your eyes avoided Jamie’s as you made your way to the guest bathroom, stripping yourself of your sopping clothes and quickly changing into the dry ones of Jamie’s. Albeit him not being a very tall man, the ends of his sweater sleeves still managed to cover the entirety of your hands and engulf you in a comforting way.

The feeling of wearing Jamie’s clothes was very different from wearing Trevor’s. You never felt warm or giddy wearing Trevor’s stuff. It was always something normal between the two of you that neither of you thought twice about. But with Jamie, it felt different. A good different. Like there was more to it than just wearing his clothes. It comforted you in a way that Trevor’s wasn’t able to.

A soft knock came from the other side of the door as you wiped the remnants of your makeup away, “Do you want some hot chocolate? I could make some for you if you’d like. Warm you up a bit”.

A pang of guilt erupted within your chest, feeling bad for having Jamie do all of this for you when he didn’t even know why you had showed up at his front door upset and wet from the rain. He shouldn’t have to deal with this. With you.

Your hesitation and lack of an answer allowed Jamie to believe that you weren’t in the mood for one. But he’d make you a cup anyway. Just in case.

Minutes had passed before you exited the bathroom, hair thrown up in a towel to dry and body now warm and skin back to its original hue. Jamie was propped up against the counter, elbows on the cool surface as he hurriedly typed away on his phone, thick eyebrows drawn slightly together as he focused on the screen in front of him. You assumed he was texting Trevor and updating him on your presence in their apartment. Another pang of guilt struck.

“If you need, I can leave. Don’t want to be too much trouble,” you spoke up, nervously picking at the nail beds of your fingers from where you stood.

The dark haired man slightly jumped, surprised to have not heard you exit the bathroom. He turned to face you, placing his phone onto the counter as it continued to buzz. “No,” he spoke, “You don’t need to. I want to help you and it is not any trouble at all. You were in need and I want to be there for you”.

The words he spoke to you made you want to cry all over again. No one’s ever made it a point to you that they genuinely wanted to help you. Jamie seemed honest enough in what he said and the concern painted on his face was enough to convince you that this was alright. That it was alright for him to help you and be there for you, even if you didn’t believe it yourself.

You gently smiled, “Is the hot chocolate still an offer?”.

“When is it not,” he smiled back, reaching for the tucked away microwave in the corner, opening it to reveal a still steaming cup of hot cocoa.

————

“Hey! So sorry for not getting here fast enough. Traffic was literally the worst. And Mason! Don’t get me started on – Oh”.

Trevor stopped in his tracks, jaw open in shock as he began to properly process the scene in front of him. The poor boy had to rush from the bar he was at with Mason and the others once he was sober enough to drive back. But the LA traffic had gotten the best of him and caused him to come back home more than an hour later than intended. He was utterly disheveled once he managed to unlock the door of his apartment and squeeze through the opening, apologizing for being late. When Jamie had texted him about you showing up at their door soaked and barefoot and that he probably should come back to the apartment, he nearly choked on the beer that was making its way down his throat. He read and responded to the text at seven-forty-five but had now just gotten back home, which was at nine o’clock.

“Looks like she didn’t need much of my comforting after all,” he whispered to himself as his eyes danced from you and Jamie’s intertwined bodies.

Trevor could only assume that Jamie had offered to watch your favorite comfort movie in an attempt to cheer you up, the end credits of Coraline on pause as the screen displayed the director and producer of the movie. Another thing he could most definitely assume was that halfway through the movie, you fell asleep on Jamie, which caused him to try to shift you into a more comfortable position only for you to cling onto him for his warmth, forcing yourself closer to his body heat as he gave up and just settled into the position he was currently in.

The brunet only snorted and shook his head at the two peacefully sleeping. There’s absolutely no way he was going to allow either of them to forget this moment. Even when the both of you would deny and deny the fact. Perhaps his plan was working, slowly but surely.

Now, he thought, onto phase two.

—

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fluffyfantasticducky · 8 months ago

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Utterly Infuriating

☆ Pairing: Loki x Reader ☆ Synopsis: Loki is very bad with people, so meeting anyone new just means a new enemy, and you didn't seem to be the exception. And the way you start getting along seems to indicate so. But... perhaps that's not entirely true. ☆ Word Count: 8,607 ☆ Notes: Playful tickles, (a probably very bad) enemies to lovers. @blehblahsworld requested an enemies to lovers and secret dating Loki x Reader, I hope it's more or less what you hoped for. ☆ Warnings: Heavily headcanonned (is that a word?) Loki. This is my first (and probably only) enemies to lovers, the beginning isn't very good because of that, other than that it's a lot of playfulness and tickles. Lots of flashbacks to what I imagine Loki's childhood would be, I just have a weird obsession of writing nostaglic!Loki stuff, I am so sorry.

Who would have thought that Loki would end up becoming part of the group he had tried to take down in the first place? It was laughable, really. People he thought just a thorn in his side were now his first genuine group of friends.

But here he was.

He learned to find humor in Stark and Barton’s sarcastic quips. He got along with Banner, who he found comfortably quiet to read books or drink tea with. He learned to fear and admire Romanoff’s skill and cold mind under pressure, but also adored challenging himself to try tricking her (he wasn’t successful for the most part). He came to admire Roger’s leadership and strong values, and of course reconnecting with his brother was something he’d never admit how much it meant to him. And he learned how much forgiveness and that sense of belonging fulfilled him.

He was a bit surprised that in 10 years the group had grown at least 4 or even 5 times its size. They had gone from 6 heroes to 30 something, with half of them being permanent residents on the Headquarters while the rest came and went.

That’s where he met you. Gods, he didn’t know how there could be someone so insufferable. You were worse than Thor.

You were bright and bubbly, always wore your heart on your sleeve, contrary to him who who always hid his feelings. Loki was a charmer, deliciously cynical and the life of the party if he chose to join, you on the other side where a bit shyer and not the greatest fan of crowded rooms unless it was full of friends; it quite reminded him of the anxiousness he felt as a prince in Asgard, always worried about being seen making a mistake, he was sure you felt exactly that kind of stress.

Seen that way, you and Loki were like day and night. It was no wonder you and Loki hated each other at first side.

“Brother! Come quick!” Thor called. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet!”

Loki sighed and left his book on the little coffee table and got up, Thor’s voice came all the way from the kitchen (loud as always) so he took a bit to reach the kitchen, and as he got closer to the room he noticed laughter and sweet scent filled the air.

It was Thor’s familiar boisterous laughter that made the buildings shake, and a new unfamiliar laughter.

He arrived and saw a Rogers, Romanoff, Thor, Stark and… someone new. That new person was cooking pancakes for dinner and when he turned around… you were like opening the door on a cold winter night after being by the fire all day. Overwhelming for sure.

“Brother what is going on…?”

You had a bright grin on your face and announced Rogers to think fast. Steve chuckled and lifted his plate and soon a pancake flew through the air, nearly hitting Loki in the head had he not ducked in time, before smacking against the plate in Rogers’ hands. Everyone cheered and laughed.

“What the—?!” Loki gasped.

“We got a new friend!” Thor claimed brightly.

“We met at the gym” Natasha announced. “I knew I had met a mutant when I sparred with someone who didn’t hit the floor in the first 3 seconds.”

You smiled timidly and walked to the fridge, lowered and with a single hand and a loud creek, the fridge was lifted effortlessly from the floor.

“Oh.” Loki said uninterested. “Can I go back to my book?”

“I thought I could make dinner as a thank you for being so welcoming” you smiled politely.

“Welcoming?” Loki asked, tilting his head.

“I’m moving here” you grinned brightly.

You know how people sometime tense up when they try to hide their excitement? Well, Loki tense up for the exact opposite reason.

“Remember that empty room beside yours?” Tony smiled brightly. “It’s not gonna be empty anymore.”

Even better.

“What do you like in your pancakes? Chocolate? Nuts? Berries?” you smiled warmly.

“Uh… nuts and berries?” Loki said.

The dinner was delicious, he could give you that. But the second he finished he excused himself wanting to go to bed early. He went to pick up his book before going to his bedroom.

“Ah, brother. There you are.” Thor smiled, already in his pajamas, white and blue stripped pants, a white t-shirt with a stamp of Mjolnir with a cutesy face. “I wanted to talk to you. About our new friend? What do you think? Friendly, right?”

“Awfully” Loki rolled his eyes, “I didn’t think I’d met someone as loud as you. I already have a headache. I know for sure life here has just become infinitely more aggravating…”

“Brother… don’t be like that…” Thor said sadly. Loki simply sighed and went inside his room.

Next morning he saw you again for breakfast. Everyone had their own schedule so to eat there was only Wanda, Loki, Bucky, and you. You helped to make breakfast and you ate quietly, finished quickly and picked up the plates of everyone to put it on the dishwasher and it started running.

“You’re quite helpful…” Wanda smiled warmly.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I wouldn’t want to be aggravating” you smiled brightly, giving a quick glance at Lki that might as well have killed him before leaving the kitchen.

Since then Loki and you hated each other, you argued on daily basis. If Loki said red, you said blue, if he said up you said down.

It even got in the middle of missions. It was only a matter of time until your constant clashing blew up in everyone’s faces.

It wasn’t the greatest idea to send you and Loki on the same group either. But Steve thought it’d help you two get along better if you fought side by side for a mutual goal. It was a nice, but perhaps too innocent thought.

The mission was simple, as Tony called it “bad guys had hostages” situation. There was a bit of intel Nat and Bucky were interested in, hoping to find other settings where potentially more people could be in danger. So it had to be a smooth infiltration and until finding the civilians then it was “breaking stuff” time… Tony should not be allowed to name missions at this point. It made it difficult to take them seriously.

You had been left alone with Loki to find where the hostages were being held captive while Nat went to find the main computer to gather the information while the rest of the group started surrounding and sabotaging the headquarters to cause a diversion and given you a quick escape, plus neutralizing a threat.

Loki wanted to do things his way, as usual. But you had managed to sneak into a clothes hut and you got uniforms to pass undetected… Very much against Loki’s will given he kept arguing he could’ve just casted an illusion.

“This is absurd” Loki scoffed as he put on a shirt gray shirt. “We’re wasting valuable time. My illusions—”

“—Would’ve been casted off the second someone lays a hand on us” you reasoned, doing your best, although fruitless attempt not to sound annoyed at him. “These guys are weirdly touchy, a hand on your shoulder and your done for.”

Loki turned around to give you a snarky comeback, only to be cut off when he saw you changing. You both had been facing opposite directions to give each other privacy, but his attitude got the best of him.

He did not expect the sight he was greeted you as he saw you dressing up.

Your body was toned thanks to the training, and it showed the overly demanding lifestyle and dieting being an Avenger required. It was weird you were muscled like one would expect, given your mutation focused on your physical strength, although he didn’t really know how that worked so he just figured that was part of it. But one would easily tell you trained on a daily basis.

He was mesmerized, even smiling softly at you.

When you turned around you caught him staring and your face turned bright red and you let out a loud screech. Loki panicked and tackled you to cover your mouth.

But it was too late. A guard gave opened the door and the alarms started sounding. It was time to run if you wanted to rescue the hostages.

“What happened?!” Steve spoke through the comms. “The alarms are going off!”

“We were caught!” you called. “Loki—!”

“—tried to save me but I blew it!” Loki cut you off.

“It was your fault!” you snapped at him. “We gotta rush to get the hostages!”

“We need to get the intel we were set to do first…” Loki argued, “we can’t lose the input if the other hostage locations.”

“I’m not abandoning the hostages here, we’re getting them first!” you argued.

“We’re not gonna do either if you guys don’t focus!” Natasha argued through the communicator.

A thing of these groups that became quite cliché was there was always a bunch of guys the were big. Mutants as well. Big, tall and sturdy, almost like human walls, not very smart but insanely strong. He had an axe the size of a human.

You clashed your fist against the guard’s axe and it made you both recoil to process the soreness the impact caused on both of you. This guy clearly had a similar level of raw strength as you. So you wouldn’t be winning this on your own.

You turned to ask for Loki’s back up, but a green fog formed on the spot as Loki vanished on thin air. Not only leaving you on your own, but making the battle field a blurry mess.

“Loki?!”

“Sorry, mortal.” Loki said sarcastically. “We can’t let you ruin the mission.”

“LOKI!” you yelled as you barely dodged a swing from the axe.

“Trickster, go with Romanoff to get the intel!” Tony stated as he flew above the enemy base, knocking out a couple of troupes with his missiles. “Hercules, go with Cap to get the hostages! Go! Go! Go!”

The rest of the mission was a blur, the hostages barely escaped alive, and a few were harmed and had to be treated in the flight back home, and Natasha was injured when she got an ambush from the guards when she was downloading the data.

Even after missions were a nightmare for everyone around you two. The entire trip was loud and obnoxious.

“You had to back me up when the big guy shows up! Not just vanish from the fight!”

“Excuse you, that fight wouldn’t have taken place t begin with if you hadn’t blown our cover!” Loki yelled at you. “You’re lucky my mist cloak allowed us a clean exit!”

“Clean exit?!” you screamed back, poking his chest. “I got a slash on my leg because I couldn’t see where I was going!”

“Yeah, and if you could stay still and not scream so much, I’d patch you up easier” Natasha said half amusedly.

“Sorry Nat…” you apologized, your mood changing completely to warm and friendly.

Thor pulled his brother to the other end of the ship to try having some peace and quiet until they got home.

Of course, Fury was… well, furious.

“You pair of moronic and irresponsible idiots!” Fury said. “It’s a fucking miracle no one is died while the two of you fought like kindergarten brats! Suspended. Both of you. 3 weeks.”

“What?! Director!” you whined.

“Director nothing! Let’s see if this time alone helps you two get along better.” Fury scoffed. “Dismissed.”

Loki on the other hand, didn’t argue. Men with Nick Fury’s temper couldn’t be reasoned with when they were this pissed. He would know, he grew up with two at home. So he just nodded and left the room when he was told to.

It would be a long lock down.

You weren’t much more pleased with the decision, given that after this mission you had plans to go out to the city and now you were essentially grounded like a 5 year old. Downsides of living in the compound, every so often, if you messed up real bad you’d be “grounded”.

Loki too had plans ruined by this. Not the type the others had, who went to big events or dated civilians who they could stay over for a few days when they had time off. Loki didn’t even have friends outside of the Avengers… or at all. But he had learned to enjoy going into the city and indulge in some human theater, casting an illusion to conceal his identity of course, otherwise people would panic. But he liked it, but the dramatic costumes, the theatrical and embellished of speaking of some plays, and the occasional musical that had always a song or two stuck o his brain for a few weeks.

But now that wouldn’t happen until next month. Instead he was stuck with someone he couldn’t stand and that couldn’t stand him back. Great.

The next day of when everyone left to live their lives out of the compound while he stayed locked in his room for as long as he could. He read, he had a little cloth ball that he threw up and caught, he used his illusions to entertain himself, and he even used his phone to try entertaining himself for as long as he could, but sooner than later he grew bored.

He wasn’t the type to be able to stay still, and he got out of his room to walk around the compound, his legs already itching to get a good walk.

As he stretched his body with a nice walk and he felt his mood already boosted a little. He was by the kitchen when he heard music, and not just music, but a song he recognized.

“It’s time to try defying gravity. I think I’ll try defying gravity. Kiss me goodbye, I’m defying gravity. And you won’t bring me down” he heard the song he very much he liked.

As he walked by the kitchen following the song he was greeted with yet another pleasant surprise. A sweet aroma of one of his favorite treats as a kid, apple pie. He remembered being a young child in Asgard, pulling all the tricks and spells in his arsenal to steal the baked goodies from the talented Pastry chefs the palace had in its staff.

His Odin and Frigga impressions became as good as they were due to impersonating them to request for apple pies when his mother made the kitchen “Loki proof” with her magic. He used to eat it so much that right before he turned a teen, he got quite chubby from how much and how often he ate it. At some point he resigned to his baked love in favor of losing weight and becoming a more efficient warrior… although every so often there would be a party and he’d be sure to get a big slice of apple pie to indulge on his guilty pleasure.

Long story short, he absolutely loved apple pie and just the smell made his mouth water and his stomach growl.

He found his feet moving on his own to the kitchen and he didn’t have time to process you were the only one at home, ergo, it was you who he found in the kitchen, baking, and dancing, and singing along the music. He realized right away you hadn’t realized were no longer alone. You had that lack of shame in your dance that one could only have when they were completely alone, his mind wandered to the accidental peep he got at your body during the mission. He couldn’t help but laugh a bit, he hadn’t seen you so relaxed and carefree, even with your bubbly and energetic nature.

Unfortunately, that soft chuckle gave away his presence.

“Ack!” you screech dropping pie onto the floor, your face red like a tomato.

Loki barely reacted fast enough to cast a spell of to catch the pie inches above the ground, but sparing the baked treat and burning to the counter.

It smelled heavenly.

“My apologies, mortal” Loki chuckled, sounding more amused than sorry, although he didn’t mock you, doubting you would be wiling to share your cooking with someone who made fun of him. “I swear I wasn’t trying to scare you.”

“You did!” you scolded him with a beet red blush along your face, Loki surprised himself finding it quite endearing. “God dammit, is it a pastime of yours creeping up on me?!”

“I wasn’t aware you liked Wicked too…” Loki mentioned, changing the subject, wanting to get on your good side. And it worked, because your expression changed, you seemed surprised.

“You like musicals?” you said with a slight smile. “I didn’t take you for someone to like human stuff.”

“Well, a misunderstood character that gets people thinking them a monster because of their skin color and decides to accept that they can only be a villain because that’s the only think you get to be? Might as well be my autobiography.”

“Don’t forget the green and black color aesthetic” you giggled, making him laugh as well. “And a bit snobby.”

“Yeah, I suppose that too.” He smiled.

“I never thought of it like that” you said. “Was it that bad? Being an Elphaba?”

The way you said felt quite soft, kind. It stirred something in his chest.

“To be perfectly fair, I found out I was a frost giant when I was 1,048 years old” Loki admitted. “But at the time I felt like I was going insane. Frost giants were monsters, and in a constant state of imminent war with Asgard…”

“I can imagine you felt like the enemy of everyone you loved” you said sympathetically. “It must have been awful…”

“Earth was a witness to how badly it affected me…”

“wait! New Mexico and New York were the collateral damage to an identity crisis and a mental breakdown from a twenty-year-old?!” you exclaimed, your chin against the counter and tugging on your hair.

Loki shrunk in his place.

“You’re telling me it could have been solved with some therapy, a cup of tea, and probably a hug?”

Loki was a bit surprised that your response wasn’t as aggressive towards him, if anything it irradiated a weird mix of anger and empathy.

“There was also a hint of mind control” Loki defended himself.

“Yeah right, a wizard did it.” You smiled amusedly, and weirdly enough, it made him laugh. “We all saw that you had to touch people’s chests with the pointy end to make it work.”

“I mean it” he smiled. “The mind control from the scepter Thanos gave me came from the time stone in it, and it fueled those around him with anger and left them vulnerable to obey orders if you held onto it for long enough. Banner has pointed out he and the others felt it too. I felt so much… I don’t know… rage? …I didn’t realize what was going most of the time… it wasn’t until I had lost that I truly realized what I had done… and it took even longer for me to realize the gravity of my actions…”

That seemed to convince you, and Loki felt a weird relief from you believing him. You stayed in silence for a while.

“That’s heavy…” you mumbled, not sure what else to tell him, and you offered him your hand.

He wasn’t sure what made him place his hand on your and you gave him a little squeeze, before gently caressing his knuckles with a touch so sweet that made thrills go down his spine. You smiled at him.

“Well… You are one of us freaks now” you smiled softly in a way that made him feel warm and fuzzy.

He pulled his hand away and cleared his throat, feeling his face uncharacteristically hot as he looked down and to his side, just trying to avoid your gaze. You laughed and tried following where his gaze pointed towards, looking at the warm pie on the counter.

“Want some?” you offered, tilting your head to point to the pie and Loki’s stomach grumbled, almost in an involuntary affirmation. He really should’ve had breakfast. You laughed and cut him a big slice and Loki’s mouth water.

He hadn’t really been looking at the pie, but he sure didn’t argue back if you offered him some. The taste was divine. He couldn’t help a rather inappropriate sounding hum of pleasure.

“Oh Norns, what did you put in this?” he asked, his mouth half full of the sweet pie. “These tastes so different from… Mmm! Oh Norns!”

“Ah, just the usual, flour, eggs, milk, apple marmalade, sliced apples, sugar, cinnamon” you listed.

“Cinnamon? What is this cinnamon?” he spoke happily as he ate more. “What kind of apples? They feel so different… Mmmm! This is amazing!”

Loki felt like a child again. For a moment he forgot of everything, he ate messily, a bit of marmalade falling on his shirt which never used to happen. He ate loud and let out happy moans and hums as he enjoyed the pie.

He ate so fast he didn’t realize he had almost finished the huge slice until he saw you serving him another huge, warm, sweet, slice of pie. You didn’t shame him, you simply giggled and smiled brightly at him.

He ate more until he was stuffed… Which happened only once he had finish most of the pie. If anything, what he didn’t eat could be barely called a slice. He felt a bit ashamed from his lack of self control, he hadn’t behaved like this since he was a child. He even let out a small airy burp.

“Excuse me…” he apologized, his face burning from shame.

But rather than being disgusted, you burst out laughing. Loki grimaced from shame.

“Sorry, sorry” you laughed. “Adopted or not, you truly are Thor’s brother. You Asgardians sure have a huge appetite.”

Loki smiled. Despite it being a teasing statement, it didn’t feel aggressive, and so it drew a happy laugh from him. You had a charm to you he couldn’t help but smile and feel like a kid around you.

“You’re so…” he growled with a big grin.

“Aggravating?” you said with a weak smile.

Ah, that. He now regretted his words from the first day you two met. He was such a fool. He saw someone loud and bright and decided you were annoying. But while those first statements were true, you were a delight to have around. And a great baker.

“I should probably… a-ap… um… I haven’t been the best God to be around… Ah… I want to… a— apolo— uh…”

“Apologize?” you smiled and he gulped, before nodding. “Apology accepted. I haven’t been the easiest person for you to deal with… I’m sorry too. Want the last slice?”

Just like that? He didn’t understand how he got away with it so easy. But the offer of the last slice made him nod and you served him the last bit of the pie. Your apology was a bit short too, but as you were placing the last slice on his plate, he noticed your face turn bright red. You didn’t seem much better at apologizing. But the effort was there.

He was flooded by a happy memory of his family.

He had failed to convince on of the pastry chefs to make him a pie. He went to climb a special tree on his mother’s garden where he hid to self-contain his tantrums, knowing that his Seidr went out of control when he was upset.

He didn’t know how long he was up there when he heard someone calling him. Frigga.

“Loki? Child? Are you up there?” a voice called him.

“No! I’m not!” he whined.

He heard Frigga laugh and a sudden sweet aroma filled his nose that made his anger fade away. Apple pie.

“C’mon brother, you come down or I’ll go get you!” he heard Thor calling him playfully. He couldn’t stop himself from laughing a little bit.

“If he doesn’t, I will!” a third voice added.

Loki jolted and jumped down from where was hiding from the tree, falling right on his father’s arms and both tumbled down onto the grass. Odin didn’t often have enough free time to escape his duties and spend quality time around his family. But every once in a while, he sneaked out of his royal duties so all four could do something together.

The rest of the evening they sat together on Frigga’s garden to eat apple pie together, playing and laughing together, and this had been one of the rare occasions where he could outshine Thor, showing the new trick Frigga had taught him. Having the little flower he had picked jump from his hands and onto his brother’s head now as a frog who screeched and fell backwards, making everyone burst out laughing.

It had been one of those happy days full of laughter and joy. Thor and Loki fought with wood swords and both parents chased their kids pretending to be a pair of Bilgesnipes but trapping them in tickle hugs only for both brothers to team up and try returning the favor to their parents… key word: tried.

Loki felt his eyes water a bit and he let out an airy laugh as he wiped his tears. He felt a bit foolish for letting all his anger and insecurities let him forget all those happy days. And letting himself and everyone in his family be drowned in royal duties as he and Thor slowly approached the age of one of them ascending the throne.

“Hey, I didn’t my apple pie was that good” you joked, but still passed him a napkin to clean his eyes.

“S-Sorry, no… yes, it’s um… it’s very good.” He said, feeling a knot on his throat. “Thank you so much… for… f-feeding me. I hadn’t eaten one of these in a few decades. It was…”

“Nostalgic?” you finished the phrase for him, and he nodded. For a silver-tongued guy, he was very bad at expressing his feelings. “It’s okay… Just say the word and I’ll make more for you.”

He smiled and sighed as he wiped the last tears.

“Thank you.”

“Sure…” you nodded and your cheeks turned red. “Hey… uh… since you don’t hate me anymore… maybe we could watch a movie together in the lounge room. Maybe. If you want.”

That made Loki laugh.

“I hated you?! You made it a ritual to disagree with me and get on my nerves, or do I remind you that you are half to blame for the two of us being in a lockdown?!” he said, but he found no anger in his voice, if anything he sounded amused.

The way your face contorted into a funny ashamed grimace made him bite the inside of his cheek to hold back a laugh.

“Maybe… but what was I supposed to do?! I thought you hated my guts!”

“Perhaps let your pride aside for a mission?!” Loki laughed.

“I could let my pride aside had you not mortified it” you grumbled.

Loki froze for a second. The phrasing was different, but he knew exactly what you were referring.

“You like Jane Austen?!” he gasped.

“You like Jane Austen?!”

“I met her!” Loki exclaimed and casted an extremely old book, but it was extremely well kept. “I got this book. “I didn’t come to earth often, but I loved to make little trips to get books. I got this book for my 848th birthday, it’s quite literally a first edition.”

“No way!” you said fascinated as you looked at the book and skimmed through the pages and noticed a scribble and you nearly dropped on the floor. “IT’S SIGNED?! I HATE YOU!”

You grabbed the book and ran.

“HEY! GIVE IT BACK, YOU THIEF!” Loki laughed and chased after you, feeling a flutter in his chest he had never felt.

He chased you around the compound and when he got in range he casted a concealment spell to protect his precious book but now you were in trouble.

Now, he knew you better than he’d ever admit, and he knew that you were one of those mutants that had quite literally god-like strength, just like the spiderling. Although your powers were limited to better stamina, superhuman strength and considerably better speed than an average mutant, but not quite outstanding in that group. And thank goodness because a weakness you had were two left feet and constantly having missteps.

Just like one that given the rush of adrenaline made you drop behind the couch and Loki jumped, sitting on your waist, straddling you with his legs and he struggled to pin your arms to each side of your head. Your faces inches away from each other’s, your breaths were getting mixed from the proximity as you both panted after the chase.

Norns, you smelled like flowers and that delicious apple pie. And your lips, half parted were just so inviting… And… no one would know if…

Before he acted, you had pressed your mouth against his, kissing him fervently and he did not object a single bit, kissing you with a passion he hadn’t realized he felt, always too busy with his misconception of you. But now that he had a taste of you he was going wild with the amount of desire in his gut. You were gorgeous, sexy, funny, caring… very… very sexy.

“I’m sorry…” he breathed heavily. “I was an utter, bumbling fool… I’m sorry… I was the aggravating one, and I judged you too fast.”

“I’m sorry too… I was stupid too, I got too defensive and aggressive…” you whispered against his lips, filling his body with warmth and electricity. “I’m so sorry for being a pain in the ass.”

“Let’s take this elsewhere” he huffed breaking the kiss for just an instance.

And so, the lockdown with you went from punishment to blessing. Now the two of you couldn’t get your hands off each other. One thing he had got right from the first meeting is that you gave him that aura of someone who was extremely affectionate. But he never imagined how good it felt to be on the receiving end of those affections. And you were a forced to be reckoned with, but you loved with the same ferocity you fought, and Loki couldn’t love it more.

He had had lovers in the past, but it always felt transactional, like it was to get something from him, or he let his own insecurities sabotage his relationships. But this was… fun… easy. He no longer had any nobility titles on earth, and you refused to acknowledge him as a god in the literal sense. You treated him like an equal, you wanted nothing from him. You were purely and simply into him… and that made him madly into you.

But it all changed the second the rest started coming back from their lives on the outside world and return to the compound. Loki couldn’t help but feel self-conscious about being lovey dovey in public, much less with someone he had sworn to despise. He knew he’d never hear the end of it from the others. But he couldn’t help being captivated by your beauty, your kindness, your sense of humor, that body of yours… Damn, he was doomed. And you didn’t seem to think much different because you also held back from your affections as soon as there was someone else around.

Wanda and Vision were the first one to return, but those two were in a forever state of honeymoon and barely noticed the world around each other when they were together. But not long after, the compound was full of everyone.

Loki would go insane on days like that because he couldn’t shower with you with his devoted affections. It was like a nasty itch he couldn’t quite scratch.

But it was noticeable that something had changed between the two of you, given you went from nearly killing each other on every interaction to agreeing on nearly everything. And Loki had stopped avoiding the kitchen where everyone gathered around you while you baked. Loki gained a pound or two since the two of you started dating since you always made apple pie especially for him and now, he never missed a single baked treat you made.

It even made him interacted a lot more with everyone else, which at first he considered a sacrifice, but after growing accustomed to the noise, he came to enjoy the company. It reminded him of those few days where his parents, Thor and himself would spend time just relaxing together. And he was sure that was exactly what Thor thought too.

“So, you swear it on your life?” Tony asked.

“Yes Stark, I swear” Loki scoffed with a tiny smile. “Just because I was D. B. Cooper doesn’t mean I caused every little historical mystery. I don’t know who Jack the Ripper was. What he did was vile and disgusting, Thor and I only indulged on confusing humanity, not tormenting you all.”

“Swear it on the name of the love of your life” Clint said holding his beer.

“What?!” Loki said, tensing up, fearing the two of you had been caught.

“I don’t know, you don’t have a wife…” the archer shrugged. “Just swear.”

“I swear it, Barton” Loki said, feeling a bit relieved, but he eyed you and he noticed you had pursed your lips, unsuccessfully fighting a smile and he felt a fuzzy warmth running around in his chest. “But… we may or may not have something to do a certain lost tomb of an ancient queen…”

“NO!” Tony gasped with an incredulous but fascinated smile.

Thor rubbed the back of his neck with an apologetical smile. “Sorry about that…” he apologized and his crewmates started bombarding him with questions. He was so lost in the conversation he failed to hear you calling for him until you raised your voice loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Loki, cupcake?”

“Yes?” he responded in automatic.

He immediately realized his mistake when he saw the tray of cupcakes in your hand. You were not calling sweet petnames. You were offering him a treat. Everyone was looking at him weirdly.

“Are you asking me or telling me?” you saved the situation quickly.

“I do… want a cupcake” he clarified, clearing his throat to not sound nervous.

“Extra cake frosting for frost not so giant?” you smiled teasingly.

“Sure.”

And there had been a few more slips here and there. From how much time you two spent together lately, how you always sat together to sneak little caresses under the table to reaffirm your mutual love even if in secret. Or even developing an acute hearing to kiss as passionately as you could when no one was around which led to a few close calls. Or a few night he’d sneak into your room (and vice versa) to spend the night.

And it slowly became more noticeable to the one person who knew him best, or well, at least for the longest time.

Loki had been invited to see a racecar event on the TV with Thor, Romanoff, Stark, Barton, Banner, Rogers and the rest of the guys. You had declined the invitation, more interested in trying a new recipe and unfortunately for Loki you two had decided that it’d be better for keeping face if Loki joined the others and socialized with the group instead of going to watch you bake. And just like that, Loki was stuck watching a bunch of cars running in circles with a now nearly empty glass of Asgardian ale on his hand.

“So… you and our little pastry cook, hm?” Bucky asked, drinking his own glass, that had just a bit of Asgardian ale to make up for the super-soldier resistance to alcohol, making him slightly tipsy. “Happy for you.”

“What?” Loki asked, his body stiffening.

“It’s clear you feel a little something-something” Tony wiggled his eyebrows. “Have you done anything about it yet?”

“You bet” Natasha chuckled. “Why do you think they argue way less lately? Missions hadn’t been this easy in so long!”

Loki felt his cheeks warm, but he simply hid behind his glass under the excuse to drink more.

“Congratulations, brother!” Thor grinned from ear to ear.

“You’re all straight up delusional!” Loki blushed profoundly.

Everyone laughed loudly at Loki’s reaction, very evidently not believing a single word. He was so embarrassed, and he couldn’t help the hot blush on his face that went all the way to his ears.

“C’mon… tell us the truth!” Tony elbowed his ribs, making Loki jolt, which was noticed by the inventor. “What was that?”

Thor spoke before Loki could come up with an excuse.

“Ah, my brother is awfully ticklish!” Thor smiled brightly. “He used to love getting tickled when we were little.”

“THOR!” Loki protested with his face red like a tomato. “N-No, I’m— I was a child back then!”

Everyone smiled at him in a way that made even the god of mischief want to run for his life. But Thor knew him well, and before he could escape, and he had put him in an arm master lock, and Loki started squirming to break free, but of course, in a one of one, Loki would never beat Thor in terms of physical strength. Everyone exchanged looks and Loki knew exactly what they were thinking.

“Ohoho! I like how you think, Sparky.” Tony chuckled letting his drink to the side, also grabbing Loki’s drink not to waste it.

“That brings back memories, eh Bucky?” Steve chuckled, exchanging an affectionate smile with his best friend.

“And if my memory works correctly, it was a good way to make you talk” Bucky agreed.

“Let’s see if it works for Loki TOO” Steve said and left his beer.

Everyone had forgotten the race on the TV and their drinks to focus on the currently helpless Loki.

“All of you! If you even dare to lay a single finger on me, I swear I will— ACK!” Loki was cut off my a light poke on the side by Natasha. His face burned. “DON’T!”

Everyone was giggling at the reaction from the young god. Loki could only squirm and tug against his older brother’s grip.

And with that, everyone jumped on their former enemy. Poking and prodding the God of Mischief’s torso. Loki tensed up and held his breath eventually letting out a few laughs, still doing his best to refrain his laughter. He wanted to hold back, but every nerve that was being tormented begged him to laugh.

“This could easily end if you admit you are dating—” Tony teased.

“I’M NOHOHOT!” Loki yelped, cursing himself for the laughs that escaped past his lips.

A part of him wanted to just get over it and admit how helplessly in love he was with you, he could easily start demonstrating the world how much he loved you. But he knew neither he or you was ready to deal with the teasing it’d unleash, and even if you were ready, he wanted to do it together, not because it was tortured out of him.

“Man, he’s more ticklish than my kids” Clint laughed as he squeezed Loki’s left ribs.

“Oh, I was just going to say that” Tony laughed, but I squeezing Loki’s lower stomach. “He’s a lot feistier though, Morgan would already be in a giggle fit if I tickled here, below her belly button.”

“Yeah, but your kids don’t have an ego to protect” Natasha laughed as she wiggled her fingers along Loki’s right armpit.

Banner was a lot nicer in the sense that he wasn’t teasing him, but the constant squeezes above his kneecap had Loki twitching.

“I think he’s gonna explode” Steve chuckled as he poked and scribbled along Loki’s side. “This could all be over if you just admit you are seeing a certain someone we all know you are dating.”

“WE AHAHAHAHA- WE AREN’T!” Loki laughed. “I SWEAR! LET ME GO YOU BUNCH OF- NOHOHOHOHO! NOT THERE! NOHOHOHOHO! STOP!”

Now Loki’s face was a dark shade of red and he was laughing his head off. It made everyone freeze a little. He was squirming as if he was being exorcised.

“Woah! He’s losing it!” Steve jumped. “Who did that?”

“That would be me” Thor smiled innocently.

Everyone moved his hands to reveal Thor contorting his arms in a rather uncomfortable manner although very effective position where he kept Loki’s arms raised and stuck in a Y as he was now drilling his fingers against the spot little crevice at the bottom of each armpit, and right where the armpit met the upper ribs. And Loki was going crazy.

And rather than showing him any sort of mercy everyone else resumed their tickle attacks.

“Dammit Thor, you mean defeating your little brother could have been this easy?” Clint laughed. “We could’ve spared us all of his New York invasion! We could’ve just tickled Loki until him pissed himself!”

Gods no, if at this point they were now friends —or at least, had a cordial relationship— and they were about to tickle him to death he might have actually died if they pulled a stunt like this when they were, in fact, trying to kill him. Tears of laughter were already streaming down his face like a river and his stomach ached from the overexertion.

But Loki still refused to betray your trust. There was only one other option left for him: swallow his pride.

“HAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEASE! OH GODS PLEASE, I CAN’T HAHAHAHAAHAHAHA! I CAN’T TAKE IT! I YIELD! PLEASE! PLEASE! HAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Oh, the things he did for love. They wouldn’t let him forget it, but he felt his stomach was gonna explode if he wasn’t allowed to catch his breath.

“Oh, begging? Okay, I think he might be serious” Steve laughed.

“I AM! PLEASE! HAHAHAHAHA! THOR PLEASE!” Loki begged, and uttered the words he hated telling Thor the most. But the words that always made him stop: “YOU WIN, BROTHER! STOP!”

Now Thor knew Loki was serious, and he let go of his arms, thankfully everyone else followed, sparing the God of Mischief from the horrid of fate of die laughing. Loki immediately curled up in a ball, he coughing and panting, desperately trying to catch his breath.

Everyone was giggling around him, all completely unaware that you had been around the corner, and you had watched the whole thing.

Days later, you two had the house for yourselves and decided to put a movie Loki would like and sat on the couch to cuddle during the evening, enjoying each other’s warmth. He admitted that just staying home in baggy clothes and have your arms around each other for hours and hours. And the green sweatshirt you got him was extremely comfortable.

Although as usual, the movie was quickly ignored in favor of kissing each other. You were the sweetest kisser he had the blessing to encounter, you kissed him and caressed him with a love he had never met, you always either cupped his face, played with his hair or caressed his body, but you always sent him into a sensorial state of bliss.

You were such a lovely thing.

“Mmm, you choose such good movies” Loki joked and chuckled with his lips against yours. “So engaging…”

“Oh, haha— funny…” you giggled and rolled your eyes.

He looked at you with a self-satisfied grin as you looked annoyed.

“Oh, c’mon darling, I love you…” he smiled.

“You swear, baby?” you said in a tone that made Loki tilt his head, knowing you were trying to say something.

“What do you mean, love?” he asked.

You smiled and placed your hand on his sides, making him jolt.

“A-Ah… Darling… W-What are you doing?” he asked with a nervous smile.

“I may have learned something about my lovely prince the other day…” you said flirtatiously. “Something fun~”

“Oh, i-is that so?” he smiled nervously, already having a good idea of what was this discovery of yours. “I-I don’t like the sound of that…”

“Oh, c’mon, honey… please!” you wrapped your arms around him in a happy hug. “Please let me tickle you… Everyone got to tickle you. I want my turn!”

Oh, so he was right. He felt a sense of dread and mild panic. He still hadn’t mentally recover from the group attack from the other day…

“Your turn?!” Loki gasped out, and panicked at the sight of your determination to tickle him. “N-No… Darling… Please no, honey… Please, I’m awfully ticklish… I—”

You smile widened from ear to ear from excitement. Loki realized that he was burying his own grave, as the more he argued, the more you wanted to tickle him. He sighed.

“Is there something I could do to convince you to not tickle me?” he said with a pleading expression.

“Not at all” you smiled in that way that brought gods —specifically, this god— to his knees.

He accepted defeat like a gentleman.

“Alright…” he smiled and rested his hands behind his neck, letting himself vulnerable for you. “But when I say stop, you stop. Deal? I mean it when I say I’m very ticklish, and you could get hurt, I can’t control my magic when I get overwhelmed.”

“Ooh, a safe-word already? So naughty” you giggled, making his cheeks flush and groan.

“Just get it over with…” he sighed, finding a weird tingle on his belly. A bit of excitement, perhaps.

You nodded and sneaked your fingers with ease under his hoodie, and it was baggy enough to provide no hinderance to your fingers. Wearing a tank top wasn’t the greatest idea in retrospect. He let out a few giggles already.

“Oh norns…” he chuckled and sucked in a gust of air to keep his composure when you gently brushed along his sides.

Despite he being completely free to move, and you were only one person… he was struggling not to burst out laughing more than when he was teamed up against. Perhaps it was the clothing, or the fact that you made him way more nervous than anyone else in the world. But he was already letting out a few giggles.

“Ehehehehe… D-Darling… Please!”

You were utterly delighted. Loki was the cutest thing in your eyes, and being able to make him giggle like that was a treasure.

“Ohohoho gods! Love please, gohoho eheheheasy on mehehehe!” he laughed. “I cahahan’t stand it!”

You smiled in adoration and ran your fingers along his lower belly, gently gracing along his waistline and he placed a hand over his mouth and looked away to get away from you, too flustered to look you in the eye. He was the strong and mighty God of Mischief… How could you render him so helpless?

“Hahahaha! Pffft! Ack—!”

Oh, but you cruel thing, you quickly took advantage of his raised arm to tickle his armpit making both arms shot down to his sides in a louder giggle fit. He still was afraid to try fighting back, but his body started responding on it’s own and his hands shot to your wrists. But he quickly got nervous. He had severely underestimated how badly he weakened when he was tickled and your superhuman strength. Curse you, mutants.

“Nohohoho! Oh, nohohohoho! Stohohohop that! Lohohohohove!” he laughed as tears formed on the corners of his eyes.

All he could do was throw his head back and laugh against the couch as you laid on stop of him tickling him out of his mind.

Surprisingly he didn’t mind it too much. He found himself liking the attention.

“Hehehehe! Dahaharling! P-Plehehehehease! Please! No mohohohohore! Love, mehehercy!” he laughed weakly.

You giggled and stopped tickling him.

“Are you okay, pretty boy?” you giggled and leaned to kiss the tip of his nose, which made him smile.

“Hehehe… heh… Oh, love, you’re vicious… hahaha…” he chuckled. “That was the worst torture I’ve endured in all of my life… haha…”

“C’mon, you loved it” you smiled and kissed him.

It felt lovely the way Loki smiled into the kiss, even delighting you with a nice buzzing with the way he laughed into your lips. He simply irradiated happiness, and it was contagious.

“Whahat’s so funny?” you asked with a giggle.

“Nothing, nothing…” he smiled brightly and let out a loud contented sigh. “This is just perfection… I love you.”

“Aww…!” you cooed and hugged him tight. “I love you too, you ticklish cutie pie!”

Loki’s face turned red and groaned, and cringing at the overly sweet pet name. And you knew it and openly did it to get him flustered, even adding a tooth rotting coo to your tone that got him super embarrassed.

“I-I’m not a…!” he smiled, a bit flustered.

“Yes, you are!” you giggled and started tickling him again.

“AHH! Hahahahaha! Let me go! Hahaha!” he laughed as he tried to push your hands away without risking to hurt you if he grabbed your hands. He even kicked against the armrest where his feet had been resting. He was “I cahahahan’t- I surrender! Hahahaha!”

“Hehehehe!” you giggle. “You’re a sweetheart…”

“Yeah, I… yeah, I alright, you win…” he chuckled and nuzzled your nose in the sweetest Eskimo kiss. “You’re gorgeous.”

You smiled and wrapped your arms around him, hugging him in a nice hug with your chest pressed against his as he held you and let out a big yawn.

“Sleepy?” you smiled softly and kissed his cheek and he looked at you with droopy eyes.

“It’s your fault… you tickle me too much,” he yawned again. “…it’s only natural I get sleepy after you tickle me halfway to insanity.”

“You love it..” you smiled and snuggled and fell asleep within seconds.

Loki smiled as his hand stopped glowing from the sleeping spell and saw your relaxed form as you rested against his chest. He yawned, and relaxed more now that you’d stay and nap with him.

“I do love it…” he smiled and kissed the top of your head he smiled and saw the little grin on your face as you slept with me. He sighed and soon drifted off to sleep in a nice and peaceful slumber as he left his hands on the small of your back.

He slept for so many hours, so peaceful and content. He was in such a deep sleep that he didn’t notice when a few set of footsteps walking to the couch where you two slept.

“See? I told you they were dating” Steve whispered.

“I never said I disagreed!” Thor yell-whispered. “I know my brother enough to know when he’s infatuated.”

“Can you two shut up?!” Clint shushed them both, and as he pulled out his phone to take pictures. “This is gonna be excellent blackmail!”

“You gotta send them to me!” Tony demanded.

“C’mon guys…” Natasha reasoned with an endeared smile. “It’s kinda cute, they look so happy together. Look at those smiles…”

All the guys looked at Natasha in disbelief, even Banner looked shocked.

“Do you want the photos or not?” Clint asked.

“Oh no, of course I do…” she smiled. “Send it to me.”

Now the backlash of hiding your relationship would be a truly aggravating situation.

| MASTERPOST |

#marvel tickles #marvel fluff #loki laufeyson #ticklish!loki #lee!loki #ler!reader #loki x reader #loki tickle #loki fluff #ducky writes tickles

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circeyoru · 10 months ago

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I firmly believe that Lucifer thinks reader (unwanted soul) as either his kid or younger sibling by how he threatened Alastor if he hurts them. Also I find it cute if Lucifer makes reader an unlimited page book since he's worried if they got into a too heated battle they won't notice their pages are thinning. I mean if he can make fantastic rubber ducks with amazing abilities, I'm sure he can somehow make an unlimited notepad for reader to use. Or at least he gives reader a new welcome to the hotel gift, and because he hasn't seen them in a while

Also I wanted to add to the if alastor got into heaven version where he's dead and got redeemed. Reader would isolate themselves so much so that Lucifer visits once a week to check them. And when extermination day hits again (if it happens again), Lucifer would force reader to reside in the hotel for their well-being. That's where they meet Alastor in his all angel-looking feature glory. He probably checked on their old house first, when he didn't find them he definitely raged killed some demons on the way. But he still feels some sort of connection that lead him to the hotel where he finally found reader.

(Can you tell how obsessed I'm with this series)

Go to MASTERLIST for the works. This ask is for {Unwanted Souls}.

Ohh, I wonder if you're making Reader too op.

Part 1: Reader's/your gift from Lucifer

Instead of focusing on the book or notebook, let me direct your attention elsewhere. Ever thought about the quill? If you know how a feathered quill looks, you'll get what I mean. A quill essentially needs to be dipped in a jar of ink to write. Did I ever mention Reader/you carrying one or even using one? No. Never was 'ink' even mentioned in the story or the trivia (asks). Because that quill was a gift from Lucifer. A quill created by Lucifer and gifted to you. It's enchanted to be writable without ink and on any surface, with a camouflage mode to suit your preference, last feature is that only you can use it. Why Lucifer gave you a quill is because he knows you don't have to use pages as your surface to do crazy things (summoning weapons and casting spells). You can write on a wall, blow on it and it disappears to do what you wrote. That includes writing on the skin of a demon. If you read the demon design, you'll know what I mean. The writing on pages part was just a handicap you gave yourself and it was convenient for you to carry around a book or even a small pad to write with. Plus, you don't like attention, so you use a book with limits. You know you'll go overboard when your emotions rule over you, so you limit yourself.

Part 2: Yandere Redeemed Exterminator Leader!Alastor (what a long title for him)

For context, check this ask.

You do isolate yourself to the point it is concerning. Because you don't ask for help and you did when you asked Lucifer if he could provide you with new quarters that was far from where you were or the hotel. So many reminders of Alastor around you, you can't take it.

Seeing you in such despair, Lucifer shared with you that the souls in Heaven were granted the gift of forgetting when they entered the golden gates. You got the idea of forgetting the years spent with Alastor, from the point you saved him to the point you rage-killed for him. Lucifer advised you not to, but you were persistent in your plan. You returned back to the old place, scrolling around to make sure nothing was amiss and took in the final sorrow of nostalgia. Then you wrote down your command on your skin, you watched the words sink in and then everything went black.

Here, you were back to normal, save for Lucifer being the only one (again) who knew what happened to you. Not sure if exterminations continue (since no season 2 yet), but say that it does but further apart as a compromise for Charlie to save more souls. Lucifer visits you, but only to check and see if your memories came back, when they didn't for a long while, he didn't come as often.

When Alastor came down to Hell, he went to your apartment first thing. It was extermination day, so you were definitely there. You were sleeping through the day until your charms alerted you that there was someone in your apartment. You summoned a dagger made of angelic steel, creeping to the living room.

The moment you saw the pair of white wings, you ambushed and knocked Alastor down to the ground. You kneel on top of him to keep him down, the blade at his neck. "I'll give you a chance to leave and your head won't go rolling on my floor. You can fly back to your precious paradise and I'll let you."

Alastor's head turned to face you, a complete 180 without trouble, his smile softened as he praised, "My darling, you're beautiful."

"What?"

"Why would I want to leave you? I've done so much to come back to you. I'll never leave you, dear. If you want, I can give you my wings to make up for my absence."

Your face twisted to confusion and disgust. "What? Who are you?"

Alastor's eyes searched your face, his eyes scanned around, some things and items were missing. His signature red that would be mixed into your apartment. It was all gone. Just as he lost his memory, yours was somehow gone as well. "I'm.. Alastor. Don't you remember me, My Doe?"

#Circe's Nighty Writings #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #yandere alastor #yandere alastor x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel imagines #Unwanted Soul

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ukrfeminism · 1 year ago

Text

One morning in 2007, Frances Harper was taking a bath and listening to the local news on BBC Radio Suffolk when one story caught her attention. A young woman, Louise, was being interviewed about her life as a sex worker in Ipswich. “I couldn’t see how this interview was helping her situation at all,” says Harper, who was 60 at the time. “I got out of the bath and made some notes. I realised she needed a documentary to tell her story properly and I thought perhaps I could try to make it.”

Harper had never owned a video camera and had no idea how to shoot a film. She had spent the past four decades working in secretarial jobs, as well as raising her son and supporting her husband in his construction business. “I was busy but something was always missing,” she says. “Something I could do for myself.”

Armed with a sudden sense of purpose and without a current job to keep her occupied, Harper rushed out to buy a basic camera, read the manual and began looking up ways to contact Louise. The police wouldn’t share her details, but after finding the name of her solicitor in the local paper, she left a letter with the firm to be passed on. “Soon after, Louise phoned me and we decided to meet in a cafe in Ipswich,” Harper says. “I told her I’d like to make a documentary to share her story and help her. She agreed, and that was my entry into an entirely new world.”

Following Louise most days for weeks, Harper documented her life on the streets, her drug addiction and sex work, all while learning how to shoot and interview. “She told me that no one had motivated her or really cared about her life,” she says. “She was interested in art and history, so we went to galleries together and I even took her to an afternoon tea – all things she’d never done before. We spent a lot of time together because I had the time to spare.”

The more Harper got to know Louise, the more concerned she became about her life and especially her living situation. “She was basically sleeping in an electrical cupboard on the streets of Ipswich,” she says. “I started booking her into bed and breakfasts to keep her off the streets. It really showed me how lucky I had been. It’s changed my thinking ever since.”

Once she had enough footage, Harper put together a taster of the film and contacted the local BBC News office in Norwich. The idea of an older Ipswich resident befriending a young sex worker and producing a film was so unusual that Harper was invited to a meeting and commissioned to shoot a half-hour special for BBC East, which aired in February 2008. “I couldn’t believe that Louise’s story would be out there,” she says. “I hadn’t told too many people about it so my friends were shocked when it came out. Once it did, I also managed to battle with the council to finally get Louise a proper flat.”

Sixteen years later, Harper, 76, is fully immersed in film-making. After her experience with Louise, she became interested in the world of drug addiction and produced a film for Sky, which was narrated by Davina McCall and followed two mothers coping with the impact of their sons’ drug abuse. She has also completed a commercial film for the seaside town of Southwold and a charity short for an emergency response service. She is now working on a series about women in horticulture as well as a film about the life of female fighter pilots.

“I just can’t stop,” she says. “It really feels like I’ve found my calling. I get ideas all the time, although I can’t make all of them because I fund my own projects and it’s hard to come by funding for older people.”

But age does have some advantages. “I think people are more inclined to be polite around me because I’m older,” she says. “I’ve also gained newfound confidence through this work. I didn’t know whether I’d achieve anything but I just kept going. I weaved around the obstacles in my way.”

As well as changing her life, Harper has recently learned how her films have had a profound impact on other people too. “Louise contacted me last year and we just carried on talking as if no time had passed,” she says. “She told me: ‘You were the only person who believed in me.’ It made that decision to pick up the camera completely worth it.”

You can watch Harper’s films via the link below:

#Articles #Sex industry #community

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captainjacklyn · 1 year ago

Text

Love, Love, Love Part 1-ish

A/N : a small fic made from this incorrect quote which I promised a part 2 and here it is just- longer.

Context : Rollo gets transferred to NRC for a few months, The Headmaster decides that he would be staying at Ramshackle Dorm much to Malleus' dismay (along with grim and the first years who are aware of the truth). Yuu doesn't find it nice either but with time they allow the third year to open up to them, eventually growing mutual respect for one another, perhaps some friendship..and a bit more.

Warning(s) : fluff, hints of rollo liking Yuu, this is a continuation of some sort to my joke so pls understand that it isn't from the beginning, Rollo might be OOC he's just scared of Yuu, they/them pronouns for Prefect !

A bit of background..

"I'm back from dealing with the principal's casual destruction ! How are you boys holding up ?" The prefect announced their arrival back at Ramshackle the moment they got in. A smile, half glad it was over while the other half expressed their passive aggressive bitterness from when taking care of other people's jobs. Grim was laying on the couch looking at one of his notebooks to try and study for an upcoming assessment. Rollo flamm, a new temporary resident of the manor was reading a book of his own next to the fiery raccoon, his attention turned to Yuu when he heard their voice.

"Ah. Welcome back Prefect, are you alright ?" He asked, placing his volume on the side and getting up from his seat to take their bag. Yuu thanked him and stretched their arms before walking over to Grim and patting his head. The feline let out a hum as his henchman did so and once the bedroom door closed, the two occupants glared at each other.

"Weasel."

"Simp"

Since it was the weekend, most students had the option to rest their minds or do the opposite of relax because of a test. "Hey guys what are you doing ?" This current scene happened a few days after the first, Yuu was once again returning to Ramshackle. Though this time, they stopped at the small gates when they noticed their first year friend group staring at Rollo from a distance.

When the Prefect called out to them, Ace quickly turned around and shushed them. "We're observing the enemy." Deuce explained in a hushed tone, They only chuckled at their antics and Epel attempted to defend their choice of pass-time. "We don't what he could be planning this time ! I mean he's gardening right now, you know what that means.." The way his tone of voice changed towards the end of his sentenced made Deuce frown in remembrance of that incident.

Yuu shook their head with a knowing smile as they approached them and ruffled Epel's hair. "Don't worry, I'm making sure he doesn't make the same mistake. He's getting better, I promise." They didn't buy it but Ace nodded along with a shrug, possibly considering the option since he wasn't there when it all happened.

To reassure them, Yuu continued as they all looked back at Rollo who was watering the plants at the entrance. (he stated that it would look nice because of how dried the yard was, Yuu only agreed as long as he did the work) "I'm sure he'll change into becoming a nice normal man...very normal." then Rollo started to spin around as he watered the flora. The collective all narrowed their eyes, "That's not very normal." Yuu commented.

In a minute he changed his stance completely and went back to his original position. "That's normal." The prefect spoke while pointing at him to prove their judgement, Adeuce and Epel nodded their heads at the same time. However they all scrunched up their faces and tilted their head to the side a second after Rollo sprayed fertilizer in his eyes.

Yuu ignored it and gave Deuce a pat on the shoulder. "Anyways- It's gonna be exciting to have someone new around. Nobody is born bad, I promise you that. I'll get to know him and we can all share our lands...even though I feel like contradicting my own words." they muttered under their breath as they walked away from the group and pass the gates, to go speak to their tenant who was..performing strange water rituals. "Flamm !"

Their voice was firm enough to have the eyebag silver-haired individual look their way the instance they spoke. Mostly because they made it very clear that they were the boss around this area, by using threats that is..brutal ones to say the least.

"Oh hello Prefect, I was just taking care of the plants-" "Yes I know you were performing your bizarre holy water ceremony." They cut him off halfway and right when he was about to say something, the not-so-genuine smile on their face made him change his mind. "Uh Yes..that was it." he accepted their statement, learned a while ago that saying no to someone who could force him to sleep in mud wasn't the best option.

Then Yuu suddendly perked up. "Oh right I came back from Sam's shop to bring you these, just like you requested." Reaching into their satchel, the magicless student handed him a few bags of flower seeds. He offered a small smile as he took them, "Thank you." Rollo responded, they answered with another smile and although they were serious, it was much more for setting something straight rather than intimidating him. "I trust you, Rollo..And I really hope that your brief stay with us helps you with whatever you're..going through I guess." Yuu carried on, Rollo looked at them for a while as he took in their words, he then gave them another small smile.

"Thank you..I appreciate it." They chuckled as he spoke softly. "Just looking out for my non-non magic user !" they joked.

A little further off was the trio of freshman watching the scene unfold in disbelief.

"He has to go."

"Agreed."

hope you liked reading this, part 2/3

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sailorstar9 · 5 months ago

Text

Stealing F/N's Boyfriend Was The Last Straw

F/N had been troubled by her relationship with her younger sister, Akemi, since childhood.

Akemi, who was weak since childhood, took advantage of their mother's concern and wanted everything that was F/N's.

“Kaa-san, I want nee-san's Licca doll.” Akemi whined.

“Alright.” F/N's mother relented. “Sorry, F/N, can you lent it to Akemi for a bit?”

It was common for F/N's favourite toys to be taken away. There were other instances, too,

“I want the dress nee-san is wearing.” Akemi pouted, trying to snatch F/N's floral dress away. “I want it!”

“But I just brought you a new dress the other day.” their mother reminded.

“No!” Akemi threw a tantrum. “I want nee-san's dress! It's much cuter on me!”

“Oh dear.” their mother sighed. “Maybe Akemi's clothes are a bit too small for her.”

“Then give me Akemi's dress.” F/N demanded. “After all, she doesn't want it, right?”

Akemi wanted everything F/N had, like clothes and books, and F/N was often troubled by it.

In the end, even in high school, she wanted F/N's boyfriend and took him from her.

“Sorry, F/N.” their mother tried to console their elder daughter. “Once Akemi wants something of yours, there's no stopping her.”

“We tried to stop her, but she just can't seem to stop wanting your things, F/N.” even their father was helpless.

“This is too much.” F/N told her parents firmly. “I'm sorry, but I can't take it anymore.”

Akemi's selfishness got worse as she grew older and their parents struggled with it, too. So, as soon as F/N was of age, she moved out to distance herself from Akemi.

A few years later, F/N was on her off-day from her residency training when she received a text message from Akemi.

Nee-san, there's something I want to talk about. the message read. Can you make some time tomorrow night?

I have a really bad feeling about this. F/N pondered.

The next day, F/N went to the bar Akemi had chosen.

“Akemi, it's been a while.” F/N greeted her estranged sibling. “You said you had something important to talk about.”

“I wanted to tell you in person.” Akemi grinned. “There's someone I want to introduce. They should be here soon.”

“Akemi.” a familiar voice sounded. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Let me introduce you to my fiance, Masaru.” Akemi bragged.

Akemi's fiance froze in surprise and it was understandable.

“Why is F/N here?” Masaru stammered in shock.

The man Akemi introduced as her fiance was actually F/N boyfriend whom F/N had been dating since university. Knowing Akemi, F/N had already suspected it might be something outrageous and it turned out her suspicious were right. For now, F/N decided to play along.

“So Akemi is getting married before me.” F/N chuckled. “Congratulations.”

“What's wrong, nee-san?” Akemi taunted. “You don't look so good.”

“It's nothing.” F/N assured. “I was just surprised because he's so handsome.”

“I wanted you to meet Masaru today.” Akemi giggled.

After the awkward meal, F/N invited Akemi to her place since the younger sister wanted to talk alone.

“Nee-san, I bet you were surprised to find out my fiance is Masaru, right?” Akemi went straight to mocking.

At such a blatant question, F/N responded with a question of her own, “Why do you ask that?”

“Don't be stubborn.” Akemi taunted. “I approached him knowing he was your boyfriend.”

“I knew it.” F/N rolled her eyes. “So, you knew he was my boyfriend and still took him from me. I distanced myself and you still repeated the same thing. Unbelievable.”

“Masaru and I were in the same club in college.” Akemi bragged. “I approached him knowing he was your boyfriend. I confessed to him when we graduated, but you were too busy applying for medical school to notice.”

“You never change.” F/N sighed in resignation. “Taking my boyfriend is going too far.”

“Why?” Akemi smirked. “You've always given me what I wanted. You'll give him to me this time, too, right?”

Akemi always lacked any sense of ethics; their parents and F/N had always been troubled by her. F/N had no plans to fight over this.

“Fine.” F/N shrugged.

“What?” Akemi's smirk widened. “You're giving in so easily? You usually look so troubled.”

“This time, it's not something we can decide on our own.” F/N stated. “Masaru's feelings are involved, too. So it doesn't matter if I along hold a grudge.”

“Really?” Akemi teased. “You must be really upset inside, aren't you? If you're upset, just say so.”

“If that's what you want to think, go ahead.” F/N was unfazed. “By the way, you said you confessed when you were in college, right?” she recalled. “That was almost three years ago. I was dating Masaru until recently. To be honest, I thought we were still dating. Doesn't that mean Masaru was two-timing us? “

“I don't mind that.” Akemi bragged. “After all, he chose me in the end.”

In other words, F/N realized, as long as she can take him from me, it didn't matter to Akemi what kind of man he was. “I see.” F/N conceded. “Take good care of him then.”

“Of course I will.” Akemi bragged. “We're getting married, after all. Upset? You're upset, aren't you? Sorry, nee-san.”

Akemi wanted to belittle F/N, so she flaunted her happiness and left.

Later, Masaru sent F/N a goodbye message and their relationship ended abruptly.

F/N had no idea Masaru was two-timing; maybe she herself had lost interest, too. F/N thought it was about time to break up anyway and it worked out.

So, F/N ended up giving her boyfriend to her sister and she heard that Masaru filed the marriage registration a few days later.

After that, F/N did not contact the two of them as she concentrated on finishing her residency. But Akemi frequently sent messages about travelling with Masaru and going out to eat. Eventually, she even sent voice messages about their happiness. Finding the continuous messages annoying, F/N muted and ignored Akemi.

A few months later, after completing her residency...

“An package from England?” F/N blinked, retrieving a thick envelope from the postman.

To Miss F/N L/N, Your application for the assistant sports therapist of Manshine City has been accepted. Attached in the envelope are....

About a year later...

Akemi, who had been bragging about her new life with Masaru, called F/N frantically for help.

F/N, now working for Manshine City, had a very good idea what it was about and decided to have a FaceTime meeting.

“Wasn't your married life so fulfilling that you bragged about it to me every day?” F/N was not amused.

“Masaru turned out to be an insane, possessive man.” Akemi wailed. “Before we got married, I thought his possessiveness was alluring, but right after we got married, he secretly installed a location tracking app on my phone.”

“Masaru would do something like that.” F/N admitted. “Installing a location tracking app sounds like what Masaru would do, but that's not too bad, right?”

“That's not all.” Akemi whined. “He makes me report my whereabouts every hour. If I can't contact him during meetings, I get a barrage of missed calls.”

“He did have those tendencies when we were still together.” F/N recalled. “Seems like it worsened after getting married.”

“That's not all.” Akemi sobbed. “After we got married, he insisted he'd managed the finances, saying he was the man of the house, so I left it to him. I had saved up several million yen when I was single, but most of it is gone now. He secretly withdrew the money.”

“And Masaru admitted to using the money?” F/N quirked a small grin.

“He said he borrowed from me because he couldn't afford his luxury watches.” Akemi cried. “He also brought brand clothes for his parents and took them out to eat regularly. Your reaction...” she gaped, noticing F/N's nonchalant look. “You knew about Masaru's true nature, didn't you? Why didn't you warn me?”

“I thought you loved those aspects of Masaru and that's why you decided to marry him.” F/N shrugged, sipping her peppermint tea. “Because you knew he was dating me, but you decided to pursue him anyway, because you loved him, right? Or what? Did you think it was okay to marry someone because you could take him away from me without knowing who he really was? I was thinking of breaking up with him, and then you took him away. But you look so happy, Akemi. So, I gladly gave you my blessings.”

“No way.” Akemi blistered. “You must be upset because I took your boyfriend from you.”

“That's always your true intention, isn't it?” F/N fired back. “You wanted to see me sad and suffering, didn't you?”

“I'm your only sister.” Akemi pleaded. “You'll help me, right? You can't just ignore your precious sister being troubled by your ex, right?”

“You're married now, so money issues are a martial problem.” F/N reminded. “Masaru is your husband now, so it's not something I can interfere with. This is your own doing. It's not something I can help with.” with that, she ended the FaceTime call.

The next morning...

“You look exhausted.” Chigiri remarked worriedly, as he sat down opposite F/N outside an outdoor cafe near Manshine City.

“Got off a Facetime call with my sister last night.” F/N replied, slicing her egg sandwich.

“The one who snatched your former boyfriend?” Chigiri blinked, placing an order for buttered crumpets and coffee.

“Turns out, she finally found about Masaru's possessive tendencies.” F/N shrugged. “Well, it isn't my problem anymore.”

#bllk x reader #bllk x y/n #blue lock x female reader #blue lock x reader #chigiri hyoma x reader #chigiri x you #cheater male oc x female oc #with sisters like these...

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samfkiszka · 5 months ago

Text

Paper Bag: Chapter Three

Vampire!Jake Kiszka x F!Reader

Hunger Hurts, and I want him so bad, oh, it kills...

★・・・・・・★

Forced to move back to your father's hometown the summer before your first year at college, you had resided yourself to the fact that the next few months were going to suck.

But that was before you were reacquainted with Danny next door. And before you got a brand new job at a dusty old bookstore run by an eccentric old woman. And before Jake walked into said bookstore, poised to turn your entire world upside down.

Warnings (for this chapter): SMUT!! 18+ ONLY! Oral (female receiving), fingering, Jake being a slut, you know how it is. Cursing. Cheesy writing. Allusions to him biting you (it doesn’t actually happen though). Seriously NSFW, MINORS DNI.

Word count: 5,782

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Masterlist

taglist form if you're interested <3

★・・・・・・★

Several days had passed with no word from Jake or Danny. Danny had stayed true to his word. He wasn’t going to protect you anymore. He stopped walking you to and from work everyday, and despite your anger towards him you missed your nightly chats. You also missed the safety you had felt walking beside him as the sun began to set. Besides that, work grew boring without Jake’s usual visit. How you had managed to fuck everything up in one night was truly beyond you. In less than twenty-four hours you had pushed away the only two people that even remotely cared about you in town. It didn’t matter what Jake was now; it was clear to you that he too had no interest in seeing you anymore.

You turned even more irritable as days without word from Jake, or Danny, went by. Even Mrs. Palmer noticed their absences from the bookstore. Most likely because she noticed your sour mood. And much like your mood, the weather grew increasingly worse as the days passed. You spent more than one night wringing out damp clothes after making it back home and combing through tangled, soaked hair.

You fell into a routine. Wake up. Go to work alone. Work a boring shift. Walk home in the rain, alone. Wake up. Go to work alone. Work a boring shift. Walk home, soaked by a torrential downpour, alone. No Danny. No Jake. And it continued like this for much longer than you wanted it to.

Even your father noticed Danny’s absence, although he seemed moderately pleased that he wouldn’t have to deal with the overly cheery intruder. He didn’t mention Jake, but you were sure he was simply glad to not have to discuss boys any longer.

Two weeks went by before he finally came back into the store. It took you by surprise– he didn’t quite look like himself. His eyes sported deep purple blooms underneath them, he cheeks seemed more sunken than usual, and his skin was nearly an entire shade paler— if that was possible. Despite all this, he still looked entirely too beautiful for your liking. The anger you had been harboring over his disappearance faded momentarily. Much like your inability to be afraid of him, it seemed to be just as difficult to be angry at him. And it was nice to see him again. It was as if he had never left, as if that night had happened only yesterday.

But you had to keep up a front. There was no way you’d let him get away with this now.

You kept your attention on the book you had been reading to pass the time, trying your hardest to ignore the feeling of his eyes bearing down onto you. His boots clicked against the linoleum floors as he slowly made his way to the front desk.

“I know you’re mad at me, and you have every right to be. It’s unfair of me to disappear without warning like that. Please forgive me.”

You glance up at him, taking in his disheveled appearance. He looked truly sorry, and the begging tone in his voice only pushed you closer to forgiving him. It’s not like you could stay mad at him for very long.

“Say something. Please,” he begged.

“Can you at least tell me where you went?”

He glanced down, wincing. That was enough of an answer for you. Above anything, you were tired of people refusing to give you answers.

“But, I know you know. At least a little bit of the truth. Will… will you let me explain? Please?” He rushed out.

You nod, wondering if somehow your bullshit theories from before were true. As the week had passed you had realized how absolutely laughable Jake being a vampire was. A rash moment of very idiotic thinking. That’s what you chalked it up to. A bout of temporary insanity that Danny fed into out of jealousy. What he had to be jealous of, you had no clue. But Jake’s words from the last time you had seen him seemed to ring true.

Jake stood in the corner, eyes towards the floor as you quickly closed up and bid Mrs. Palmer a swift goodbye.

He followed behind you quietly as you locked up the store and turned to face him, hands on your hips in an attempt to seem more stern than you really were.

“Speak.”

“Where do you want me to start?” He looked utterly defeated as you narrowed your eyes at him.

“What are you?” You asked, as if it was that simple.

“You know what I am.”

You scoff, “No. You’re not getting away with this dancing around the subject stuff. Tell me everything.”

“I’m-” he hesitated, staring at the pavement as he fought the urge to be vague, “I’m a vampire.”

“Do you- do you eat… people?” You cringe as you ask, feeling even stupider with each passing moment.

“No. My brother’s and I… only animals,” he clarified.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Sixty-eight. I’m really not that old-”

“How?”

He glanced around nervously at the darkening sky, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards his car– you hadn’t noticed that you were standing right next to where he had parked on the side of the street.

“Let’s talk about this in here.”

You nod, sliding into the warm leather seats with a huff. He started driving the opposite direction from your house, but as long as you were getting much needed answers you didn’t mind where he took you.

“I was… a promising musician,” he chuckled as he began, “I know it sounds stupid, but I was young. I wanted to do something, to be someone. All I was interested in was music. My parents, they wanted me to go off to school. I had dreams, and they had their own, but once they realized how serious I was they supported me. I played in shitty, sketchy dive bars… with my brothers actually. We wanted to be as big as The Beatles, bigger even. Sam played the bass, Josh sang, and I played the guitar. We rotated a few drummers, but never really found our fit. It felt right, being on stage. I mean, I was scared shitless. Half the time I played with my back facing the crowd because I was so terrified,” He chuckled, a wistful looking glazeing over his features.

“I fell in with a bad crowd, I guess. I didn’t notice how different they were from other bands I had met. I didn’t pay attention to the fact that every instinct in my body screamed at me to get away from them. One night, Josh and I got into a huge fight. He found out I was planning on going to Nashville without them. It was selfish, stupid of me to even think about leaving. I was… I wanted to make it. Like, really make it. And this band I had met, they told me this was where I needed to go. So, Josh stormed off, taking Sammy with him. I decided to get wasted. To drown my sorrows, I guess. Ended up in a dark alley behind the bar, nearly bleeding out. Josh told my family I had gone to Nashville. They had no idea. Who would?

“I woke up alone. The other band, the one who had changed me, they were gone. I had no idea what I was. All I knew is it felt like there was a monster inside of me. I knew I couldn’t go home, not like that. So, I watched from a distance. I watched my mother and father mourn me, under the assumption that I ran away. I watch my brothers go on without me, harboring some resentment towards me for leaving. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted nothing more than to go to them, to tell them I never would have actually left them. I loved them– I still do.

“Josh and I were twins. We were… close. He was my best friend. I suppose he still is. Despite being perpetually older than me, he’ll always be my twin. I couldn’t live without him. I wasn’t really living, per se, but it would never be a life without him. I was lonely and bored. It was a moment of weakness, and I’ll regret it forever. But, I turned him. I couldn’t bear the thought of outliving him. I never knew life without him. He never blamed me. He’s always been too forgiving for his own good.

“And Sam, my baby brother. I never wanted to turn him. Josh and I wanted to protect him. To allow him to live his life as a human, the life he always planned. Despite losing both of us, he seemed to be happy. Lonely, but happy. He thought Josh ran away to find me. He would have eventually, at least. But Sam… he wasn’t miserable like I had been without Josh. I believed he was capable of making it on his own. But… our parents died just a year after I turned Josh, leaving Sam completely alone. We couldn’t watch him live like that, live thinking we had just left him to suffer alone. Not when we could do something. He stopped playing music. He never ended up studying science the way he planned. It seemed like he was giving up. We gave him a second chance at life. I turned to him too. Josh couldn’t do it.”

“We knew immediately how hard it was going to be to keep Sam in control. Newborn Vampires are tricky. It’s hard– denying your primal instincts. It was easier with Josh. And when I woke up… well, I hated myself so badly I refused to give in to any sort of pleasure. In addition to this, I now had the added burden of reading everyone else's thoughts.”

“What?”

“Oh,” he chuckled again, tearing his eyes from the road to glance at you quickly, “yeah. That part. That’s the part they don’t tell you. Sometimes when people are changed their abilities from when they were human become… amplified. I’ve always been very good at reading people, as I’m sure you’ve noticed,” he explained.

It all began to make sense. How he was able to answer questions you hadn't asked, how he was always one step ahead of you, how he knew things about you that you had never told him before. You shuddered at the thought of him reading every thought you’ve ever had about him… especially the more sinful ones. The smirk that blessed his perfect lips was not lost on you.

All you could do was laugh. Hysterically. Hard enough that you had to grip the dashboard to stabilize yourself. Tears pushed past your eyes as you struggled to breathe. You didn’t miss the occasional look of worry Jake passed you while you attempted to calm down.

“What about your brothers?” You asked in between gasps of air. “Do- do they have powers like you?”

“They can’t read minds, although I’m sure Josh wishes he could. Sam is very good at controlling emotions. He always had a very good sense of feeling what other people felt. And Josh… Well, Josh can see the future to an extent. On top of the other stuff. When he came to it was a lot easier to control him– he was assaulted by visions of the future. He knew he would have the willpower to avoid killing anyone.”

“Okay,” you huff, “Read minds. Control emotions. See the future. Other stuff.”

“I don’t want to hurt you. I’m drawn to you in a way I’ve never been drawn to any other human. Or any vampire for that matter.” He slides the car into park. You had been so attuned to his storytelling that you hadn’t noticed him circle around the entire town, finally making it back to your house. “I have developed a sense of self control throughout the years. I don’t find the idea of killing other people appealing, no matter what Danny or anyone else believes. Sure, it’d be safer for you to run from me. You deserve someone who will grow and change with you. Someone who’s heart races at the sight of you. But… I told you before. I can’t stay away from you. If you told me to leave, if you wanted me to go away right now, I would.”

You remain silent, searching your brain for the right words to say.

“Are you scared?” He asked, worry lacing his voice.

“I’m not scared of you. I never have been. I really like you Jake. I know physically you’re not like anyone I’ve ever met, but even when I thought you were human I felt… well I’m sure you know how I felt.”

“I actually… Well, I really don’t have the best grasp of your thoughts. I can read them, but they’re muddled. I have to focus. It’s like you can actually push me out. No one else has been able to do that. Sometimes I catch you off guard, and I get really clear glimpses. Other times, I just catch the feeling.”

Your racing heart steadied at this admission. So, he hadn’t really heard the worst of it.

“Do you at least feel enlightened now?” He asked.

“I guess. My entire world view has been turned upside down, but sure, enlightened.”

“Any more questions?”

“Why didn’t you kiss me the other night?”

Whatever he had expected you to ask, it wasn’t that. He stammered for a moment, stumbling over his words.

“I wanted to, God, I’ve never wanted someone more than I want you. But, I’m… scared,” his voice cracked and he felt so utterly human in that moment, “I’ve never been so close to anyone, not like this. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You lean across the center console, inching your face closer to his.

“You do realize how stupid you are? I may be able to resist hurting you from a distance, but when you’re this close-”

“Just kiss me Jake. I trust you. Please.” Now it was your turn to sound desperate.

His hand gently cupped your cheek, the cool marble feeling comforting the burning blush that painted your face.

“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to touch you like this. From the moment I met you, all I could think about was this.”

“Then do it.”

He slowly pulled you close to him, his lips brushing yours slightly.

“Our first kiss isn’t going to be in my car,” He whispered, just low enough so that you could barely hear him. He pulled back, a shit eating grin spread across his face.

You groan, opening your own door and stomping out of the car, ignoring his taunting calls until he quickly caught up to you. He pulled you into his body, his arms enveloping you smoothly.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t kiss you tonight.”

Rain was starting to drizzle down, as it had every night before. It picked up just as soon as it started, falling down heavily around the two of you. A drop rolled down his perfect nose, and all you could think about was how badly you wanted him to kiss you, to hold you like this forever, to-

His lips crashed against yours, his wet hair sticking to your face. You grasped at his soaked shirt, ignoring the disgusting, wet, squelching noise it made. The whimper that sounded from him was much more interesting anyway. His body pressed against yours, your clothes sticking together as you moved against him. Your mouth parted slightly, allowing his tongue to slip inside. Warmth spread across your chest, your heart pounding fervently against his still one. The woodsy scent of whatever cologne he always wore made you dizzy. All of him made you dizzy. You could tell from the sheer desperation in the way he kissed you that he wanted this– no, he needed this– more than you did. Your head was swimming as he pulled back, allowing you to gulp down quick, sharp breaths.

“Holy fuck,” was all you could manage to get out as his golden eyes bore into yours.

“I want to see you again. I’m not going to leave you like that anymore. I can’t,” somehow you were able to make out his lilting whisper against the downpour.

You may have hated the rain before, but fuck were you thankful for it now.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You nod, unable to speak. You hoped the ear splitting grin that breaking your face was enough for him. He leads you to your door, pressing a chaste kiss on your forehead before leaving, his car peeling out towards the flooding streets.

Your fingers brushed over your lips, the ghost of your kiss still lingering as you watched him leave. You ignore the painful feeling of being watched, pretending like you don’t see Danny’s curtains pull closed in a flash out of the corner of your eye. The rain didn’t matter. Danny didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered right now. His scent, his taste, the feel of his body crashing against yours— that’s what mattered. That’s all you could think about as you all but float into your room. You welcome the warm shower, the dry clothes you had laid out even before leaving the house that morning, the comfort of your bed. It felt right. It felt more than right, it felt perfect.

There wasn’t even a drop of worry about the next day.

You didn’t dream last night— at least you can’t remember what you dreamed of when you woke up. All you could recall was the beautiful sense of calm you felt. It may have been the first good night of sleep you had since moving to town. For once the anxiety about Danny, the worries about Jake, they were gone. Nothing seemed to matter as much anymore. Nothing but your intense need to see Jake again, the pulling urge to feel his lips against yours once more.

Your father was out of the house once more for a work related emergency, at least that’s what the note he stuck on the fridge said. His absence was welcome. You didn’t need him questioning you about Jake anymore, at least not right now. Not until you had wrapped your own head around it. Besides, you had enough to deal with today.

It was too much to spend another day agonizing over what clothes Jake was going to see you in; you felt that if he had already seen the deepest parts of your mind then it really didn’t matter if he saw you in a much loved t-shirt. You weren’t even sure when he would arrive. All he had given you last night was the quick promise that he’d be here. Oddly enough, the strange pulling feeling you had whenever he was around grew increasingly stronger when a sharp knock at your door tore you away from the breakfast you had been shoveling down.

You struggled with the door once again, cursing it as you swung it open to reveal the man who had been consuming your every waking moment since he stepped into your life. He looked significantly better than last night, the dark circles under his eye fading to a paler pink. His lips quirked up in a coy smile as he took you in, swinging an arm around you and pulling you in for a swooping hug.

“Sorry, I know I didn’t tell you a time. I just missed you,” he mumbled into the crook of your neck. This didn’t seem like the same man that had been so keen on staying away from you.

“It was only a little while,” you laugh.

“Maybe for you. I don’t sleep.”

He pulls back, grinning as he watches you walk back through the doorway.

“Do you need to be invited in or is that another myth?”

“A myth. I just like staring at you.”

You feel heat rush towards your cheeks as you turn around quickly to avoid his gaze. He followed suit, easily shutting the door you so often fought with.

“So what’s on the docket today?” He asked, leaning against your fridge as you hurried to clean up breakfast.

“I was going to ask you the same.”

“I was hoping I could question you the same way you questioned me yesterday,” he propositioned.

“Ask me what?” You were utterly taken about. What could you have to tell him that was nearly as interesting as what he told you the night before? On top of the new knowledge that he could read your mind– no matter how muddled– what could he possibly want to know?

“It’s hard not being able to get a clear read. There are plenty of things I need to know. Your deepest, darkest secrets for instance. Like… What’s your favorite color?”

You mumble out the same color you had always considered your favorite– although now you were sure your favorite color was the same rich amber as his eyes.

“Favorite movie?”

“The Princess Bride.”

He grinned widely, settling into one of the worn seats adjacent yours, “Of course. I knew you had good taste. Favorite food?”

“I’m not sure. It changes from day to day.”

“Hm,” he tilted his head while he thought, “what’s the best birthday present you’ve ever gotten?”

This one stumped you. You had never really been one to celebrate yourself, birthday or not.

“You’ve never had a birthday party?” Jake seemed genuinely astonished as he poked and prodded through your thoughts.

“I guess not. I don’t really like the attention. My dad would just give me money and tell me to buy whatever I wanted. Not all of us have nearly seventy attempts to get it right.” You shrug.

This seemed to really bother him. More than it should, at least that’s what you thought.

“When is your birthday?”

You gave him the date, scowling as you said it. “Seriously, how many questions do you have?”

“Only a couple more. Favorite book?”

You prattled off a list of favorites, not being able to pick only one. His features softened as he took you in, commenting once again that you had good taste.

“What about music? What are you into?”

You had been waiting for this one, so you straightened up expectantly as soon as he asked. “Classic rock. Old stuff. Well… not old to you. Hendrix, John Lee Hooker, Zeppelin. The Beatles. Queen,” you listed, taking a breath as you continued, “Janis Joplin, Fleetwood Mac, Pink Floyd-”

“Okay,” he cut you off, “I guess you have great music taste too.”

“I try. Shoot me your next question rockstar, I’m ready.” You stared him down, a daring smile on your face.

“I only have one more.” He leaned closer, the woodsy scent that accompanied him invading your senses. He was so suffocating you couldn’t even respond. You knew he noticed your racing heart, the quickening of your breath. What more could he have to ask?

“Can I kiss you again?”

It was his turn to catch you by surprise. Still, you nod curtly, biting your lip nervously as he got even closer. His fingers traced your jawline softly before his hand reached up to cup the back of your head, gently coaxing you forward. His lips met yours in a much softer manner than they had the night before, slowly working in time with the beat of your heart. Your hands slowly snaked their way into his hair, tangling up his otherwise perfect brown locks. You tugged involuntarily, feeling entirely lost in the movements of his lips. It was like you forgot how to breathe, forgot everything around you except for him. His lips were just as cold as the rest of his body, just as cold as the night before, and yet you didn’t mind. He pulled you impossibly closer, so much so that you were nearly sitting on top of him, squished together in the shoddy wooden chair. It felt like hours passed like this, and the increasing discomfort of your current position meant nothing as his hands explored your body, dropping lower and lower. A familiar fire sparked in your belly, the same feeling you felt when you watched his fingers flick through pages of old books.

He pulled back, and you whined at the sudden loss of contact.

“Not close enough,” he groaned.

“Upstairs?” you manage to pant out.

He pulls you into him, moving up the creaky stairs at speeds you never thought you'd be able to move. The door to your room swung open with a crack, and you didn’t even have time to worry about the splintered wood before he threw you on the bed. You stared up at him through heavily lidded eyes, taking him in his entirety.

“Need you, so fucking bad,” he mumbled as he was on top of you again, pressing wet kisses into the side of your neck, “You have no idea how long I’ve thought of this.”

Words didn’t matter. All you could do was focus on getting a full breath in. In his presence, when he was like this, everything felt ten times more difficult than normal.

“I could bite you, right now. No one would even know. You’ve made it impossibly easy for me,” he continued teasingly, staring at the exposed side of your neck.

Your heart skipped a beat, maybe even several. But not out of fear– no, you found yourself wanting him to. To give in, to bite you, to do it. Some disgusting, depraved part of you wanted to satisfy him in ways you would never be able to.

“God, you’re filthy. I don’t need to read your thoughts to know what you're thinking about.”

You didn’t need words. He had enough for the both of you.

“Take this off,” he commanded, tugging at the bottom of your shirt. You obliged, but you weren’t going to expose yourself even more without some form of recompensation.

“You too.” It felt childish, the way you begged him. Nevertheless, he gave you what you wanted, discarding his shirt quickly. You reached down to fumble with his belt buckle, but he swatted your hand away with a tsk.

“Not today, angel.”

You sulked at his refusal, but he barely gave you a second to dwell on it. He leaned in once more, pressing a chaste kiss on your swollen lips with a grin.

“Don’t pout. This is for you,” he chastised, pushing you down gently until you were laying on your propped up pillows. His hand ran along the edge of your shorts, pulling at them slightly. “May I?” He whispered, and all you could do was nod. He frowned at your refusal to speak before starting again, “Need to hear you say it.”

“Please-” you were surprised to hear your voice sounding cracked and dry, but you kept going, “Touch me, Jake. Anything. Need you so bad.”

At any other moment you would have been ashamed at how pathetically desperate you sounded. But Jake looked at you with so much adoration that you could not find yourself to care.

“Of course, angel. How can I say no to you?”

The coolness of his skin sent shivers up your spine as he pulled your shorts down at an agonizingly slow pace. You wanted to rush him, to plead him to go faster, but the look in his eyes told you to bite your tongue.

“All this for me?” He smirked when he saw that you had completely soaked through your underwear. He seemed genuinely shocked for a moment. How could a man who had access to your mind, no matter how muddled, doubt your feelings for him?

“Only for you. You drive me insane, Jake,” you whispered, suddenly embarrassed at being this physically exposed to him.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he mumbled, more to himself than to you, but you still blushed at his words.

His hand ghosted over your clothed clit, the temperature difference making you feel dizzy. He continued his tantalizing pace, barely touching you where you needed him most as he leaned down to pepper your face and neck with kisses.

“Tell me what you want,” he rasped in between his movements.

“You-” was all that you could manage. But it was no longer enough for him. You could tell from the gentle frown that ghosted over his features that he wanted more from you. “Your mouth, your hands, anything,” you pleaded.

He worked his way down your body, pressing open mouth kisses over your chest. You sucked in a breath of shock when he suddenly brought his mouth to your exposed nipple. This was such a stark difference from the man who was wary of even kissing you the night before. Your hands flew to his hair again, tugging so roughly that he whimpered into your skin. You knew you couldn’t cause him pain, but the sensation must be nice enough without it.

He continued his assault on your skin down your stomach, and you admired the soft pink blooms he left in his wake. They were sure to turn purple later, but you didn’t care. They were proof that this was real, that he was real.

He reached the band of your underwear, staring at you for quick confirmation before tearing them off of you.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he breathed out, staring at you so intensely that you wanted to shy away. But you couldn’t– he was holding your legs so tightly that you were sure there would be fingerprint shaped bruises painting your thighs later. You know he didn’t mean to be so rough. He already looked at you like you were made of glass. He was so lost in his own lust that he forgot just how breakable you were.

He pressed more kisses into your thigh, losing his early composure and tormenting pace in his excitement. Your hips lifted up slightly to meet his face, begging for any sort of friction as he got just close enough to give you what you wanted so badly.

Please. Please. Anything. Please. Jake, please. You chanted like a prayer in your mind, hoping that he got the drift.

Without warning he pressed a kiss to your clit, and all you could do was gasp his name. His eyes never left yours, staring up at you lovingly as he began to lap at you like a man starved. He seemed to melt against the heat of your cunt, becoming more frenzied as you whimpered nothing but his name.

He was all encompassing. He was all you could think about.

“Jesus, fuck, that feels so good.” You tugged at his hair as he continued, pressing his face even deeper against you.

He whined at your praise, and the vibration nearly overwhelmed you.

“Holy fuck, Jake,” you coaxed him on, squeezing your thighs around his head so tightly you worried for his safety for a moment– before remembering you had nothing to worry about.

One of his hands relinquished its grip on your thigh as he slid two fingers down to your entrance. You felt dizzy at the thought of him inside of you, and suddenly it was all you wanted. As if your thoughts were clearer than ever, he slowly pushed his way in without an ounce of begging from you. He started slowly, the added pressure from his tongue on your clit making you feel intoxicated. It wasn’t long before you were seeing nothing but stars. You squeezed your eyes shut, no longer able to keep them open, despite how badly you wished to keep looking at Jake.

The fire in your stomach had spread all over your body at this point. You could tell you were close. Jake must have been able to as well– of course he could. He once again knew what you needed without you having to ask. He sped his movements up, maintaining his rhythmic pace. The wet noises he was making, paired with your near constant string of praise, were almost musical together. It was almost too overwhelming. His movements were nearly animalistic as he acted like you were the last meal he would ever eat.

Time seemed to slow as you reached your peak, screaming his name so loudly you were sure everyone in a ten mile radius heard you. You felt like you had left your body– it took a second for your vision to come back, and for the ringing in your ears to fade.

He pulled back after a moment, panting. You could tell that he enjoyed putting on a show– you knew he had no need to breathe. His face was covered in a mixture of… well you and his own spit. He brought his fingers to his mouth, making yet another show of cleaning them off. His eyes were dark as he pulled them out with a lewd pop, grinning almost drunkenly at the way you stared at him.

You lay there gulping in sweet air, Jake-scented air, like you would never breathe again. He flopped down unceremoniously next to you, crossing his hands over his chest triumphantly.

“How-“

“You know, I did know how to… have fun before I was turned.”

“I thought… I thought you were scared of getting too close.” you huffed, struggling to breathe right.

“A lot can change in a night.”

Whatever that meant.

“At least I get to taste you this way,” he joked, earning a slap on the chest from you. Again, not that you couldn’t hurt him.

You felt like you were never going to fall back into your body. He made you feel disgustingly stupid, intoxicated by nothing but him. Unfortunately, much like always, he didn’t give you time to adjust before he popped up with a frown.

“What’s wrong?”

“Complication. I have to go. I’ll see you later. Maybe you can meet my brothers,” he promised, pressing his lips to your forehead before rushing to open your window.

“How are you going to get home?” You asked, vaguely remembering his lack of a car from earlier.

“Don’t worry about me. Worry about that,” he mumbled, nodding towards the door. You didn’t wonder what he meant for long when the front door opened with a groan, tearing you away from him. You glanced back for a moment, and he was gone. The only sign that he had ever even been here was the ache that spread through your entire body.

No matter how much he gave you, he always left you wanting more.

★・・・・・・★

tags: @spark-my-nature @edgingthedarkness @emojakekiszka @slut4lando @ascendingtothestarsasone @writingcold @notsostrangerthing (some of the tags didn’t work. if you want to be added, please feel free to inbox me if the form isn’t working)

#jake kiszka #jake kiszka fic #twilight au #vampire! jake kiszka #and danny is jacob black sorry #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka is edward cullen #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #yes this is a twilight au #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka x reader smut #paper bag

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randomshyperson · 2 years ago

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The List - Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Wanda shouldn't be sneaking off to your bedroom during the farewell party, and she certainly shouldn't be reading a list of pros and cons about the women you care about. Inspired by ‘Friends’ but make it Ross’s list something actually thoughtful.

Warnings: (+16) Some implications but nothing explicit, very brief angst of relationship going wrong and other lovers, implied friends to lovers, some Yelena x Reader and Vision x Wanda ‘cause they made bad choices, drinking, feelings talks, making out, getting back together, attempt to poetry and a hella of self-insert stuff. | Words: 3.052k.

A/N-> The author should be working on the last two Skam series but is doing midnight one-shots instead (self-criticism). This is short and dramatic and I just wanted something about one of the most popular scenes in Friends. Hope you like it.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

--//--

A full tower meant Wanda would be locked in her room. Or at least, that's how it used to be.

Tonight, however, there is a 'Good Voyage' banner in the middle of the room filled with friends and guests, each with their own glass of drink, wanting to celebrate your last night as an Avenger. Technically, this party was also for Wanda. In official terms, she didn't leave the team, but she had a room booked at the Harkness Residence and no belongings in her old room. For the two of you, this was the last night in the tower.

This is why Wanda was wearing a party dress and wasn't locked away from the celebration as she would have been years ago when she was a new recruit and you would sneak out of appointments to keep her company.

She tried to avoid staring so much. Whether it was the lost smiles between you and Yelena, or the lingering hugs and complicit whispers. There was nothing official, yet Natasha had commented that you had been sleeping in Lena's apartment for many weeks and that you were probably the only number saved on her secure cell phone beside the older widow.

"Would you like me to get you something to drink, Wanda?" Vision's voice made her jump in fright softly. She stared at him, and for a moment couldn't say anything, still getting used to the synthesizer's new appearance. Sometimes she missed the red, it was less intimidating than the full white.

"N-no, Vis. Thank you." She manages to reply when he looks at her curiously towards the silence. Wanda risks diverting her attention to you again, catching the moment when Yelena entwines her arm with yours and rests her head on your shoulder. It is so domestic that she feels sick. How many times has she made the same action? Swallowing dryly, she lets the robot beside her know, "I need some air. "

She left him before he could say anything else; and missed the moment he exchanged a glance with Natasha across the room as if asking her oldest friend for some kind of assistance.

Wanda lied - It wasn't her intention, she thinks, but her feet made their way alone. She went up the elevator in silence, offering nothing but forced smiles to any stray guests she met in the hallways to your old bedroom.

The place was dark and full of boxes ready for the move. All your belongings would be shipped the next day to somewhere in Europe, where you and Yelena continued on the mission to free the rest of the Black Widows, the personal operation that had to be paused for a few months with all the problems the Mad Titan brought to earth. With the victory of the Avengers, who were outnumbered for some time, everything needed to undergo some kind of reform. No one ever wanted to be caught as unawares as when Thanos appeared, and everyone had work to do. Wanda, and her growing magical power, included.

She let her fingers trace through the closed boxes, a red sparkle doing the work of turning on the lights at the entrance. Her mind was haunted by memories of a friendship long forgotten, glimpses of movie nights under those covers, stolen touches at breakfasts, and promises sealed with kisses that would be forgone and impossible to keep when reality fell on your heads.

When Wanda thought of you, she felt a pang in her chest. Missing you hurt her physically, and even with only a few rooms between you now, she felt as if the distance she had placed was much greater. She knows she would start to cry if she kept thinking about it, but there was no avoiding it, not when there were still some of her belongings scattered on your study desk and some of these were polaroids taken by Peter Parker with his intention to keep memories of his adventures with the Avengers.

She traced the photographs of younger versions of herself smiling beside you, but at the current moment, her smile was much more whiny than happy. She took her attention away from the pictures to the computer that turned on as soon as it recognized movement, and let her fingers play with the keys for a second.

"Welcome." FRIDAY's sudden greeting made her eyes widen softly at the fright. "Little witch."

She bit the inside of her cheek at the nickname she hadn't heard in a while. She lifted her finger to touch the colorful stickers you pasted on the device but bumped into the screen and was surprised by the automatic unlock. Her shock at still being allowed to access your belongings had to be forgotten because the open file was much more relevant than overthinking about this.

There were two columns in one document. Her name and Yelena's, below each a list of items.

The witch swallowed dryly and turned her face to the door. A peek at something that contained her name couldn't hurt...

Wanda.

‘Complicated.

Complicated friendship.

Complicated everything.’

Frowning, the witch felt something in her stomach sinking. When she read Yelena's first item 'It happened as it was supposed to' she understood that it was a list of pros and cons and she immediately regretted starting to read this at all.

But there was no stopping herself now. She needed to know where this was going.

Wanda.

‘Just because she was my first love, she doesn't have to be my last.’

Sniffling slightly, she looked at the next item on Yelena's list.

‘I don't have to fall in love with her just because everyone else thinks it makes sense.’

Wanda froze. A mixture of conflicting feelings surged through her chest. She wanted to be only upset by how distressed you felt, but she couldn't help the thread of hope arising from hearing your doubts regarding your feelings for Yelena.

Clicking to advance to the next lines, she held her breath without realizing it. The formatting of the list changes, taking away the bullet points for paragraphs that pull and bring the air out of her lungs with each sentence.

“Wanda only wakes up after all the alarms have gone off, I can always watch her sleep because of this.

Yelena never sleeps, and I can never fully relax knowing she's awake and haunted by horrors I can't take away.

They're both shorter than me, and they look adorable when they ask for help picking up something high up. Yelena kicks my ankle if I get too cocky about it. Wanda slides her hand under my clothes and turns me into a complete mess at her mercy, taller or shorter, she’s the boss.”

She pauses in her reading, a smile playing on her lips. She remembers doing the latter so many times. The memories hit her hard, and she had to take a deep breath to push them away and focus on reading again.

“Wanda feels so much that she explodes.

Yelena sometimes thinks the Red Room just left an empty cocoon behind.

I think I'm in the middle.”

Wanda pauses, thinking she hears someone approaching. With her heart racing with guilt and fear of being caught, she checks the door, but it's just her mind playing tricks on her.

“Wanda invades frequently. Privacy is a problem, especially because of her telepathy. I can never keep secrets from her, much less emotions. She gets so close that sometimes it suffocates.”

The witch pauses the reading with tears in her eyes. Guilt and shame burn her chest, and she takes a deep breath. She wonders how old the list is, or if the version of her that you have of it in your head is just the young girl who tentatively stumbled over her own feelings and traumas and hurt you even though she had no intention of doing so.

She sniffles again and controls the threat of crying before reading the next item.

“Yelena goes so far away that sometimes I wonder if she was ever here at all.”

The witch needs to stop; She has for a moment, the realization that perhaps, you are better off alone. For the way she and Yelena, even if in different ways, hurt you.

And the next part of the list does not make her feel better about this. In cursive letters, and repeated for three more paragraphs, there's the name of the person responsible for putting an end to the fragile relationship that you and she used to have.

“Vision.

Vison.

She notices a machine but she cannot notice me.

She loves a piece of tin, but not the one who finds pairs of socks for her cold feet at night.

She loves the tin-man who signed the agreements that say she should be locked up, and not the person who would fight the whole world for her.”

Wanda sobs, and has to sit up in her chair to keep from falling to the floor. She cries for a moment, all the emotions that seem to have built up since the whole impasse with the Avengers two years ago hitting her all over again.

You've got it all wrong. If there was a way, she would have gone back and done everything differently. She would have told her stupid young self that you were hurting like her, and that you always noticed her like she pretended not to be doing.

That forcing yourself to invest in Vision was hurting you like it was hurting her.

Taking a deep breath, Wanda tries to stop crying to finish the list at once. It seems to be ending at least.

There is one note crossed out, and she needs to make a change and remove the underline to read it.

“Yelena never seems as happy with me as she is around Kate Bishop. She always diverts from the subject when I try to bring it up. It reminds me of Wanda when I would ask about him, and she would say they were just friends.

I wonder if I will ever be someone's first choice.”

Wanda shakes her head in indignation. You are her first choice. And her second and third. You are everything. You've always been too precious to risk losing. How can you not know this?

"People say that Yelena and I are very similar while Wanda is my opposite. Peter has been helping me try astrology and everything from Hogwarts houses to numerology.

I liked the phases of the moon where Yelena matches mine while Wanda is the part I am missing.

While Yelena mirrors me, Wanda completes me.

They say that the former is more important: That real, routine life is better with someone who resembles you. Yelena and I like the same pizza and the same movies. We never fight over silly things.

Every time I argue with Wanda I want to make her scream for another reason. She always looked so pretty moaning my name-”

The witch jumps to the next item, her face burning just like under her dress. She clears her throat quietly, fighting other memories that try to rise into her mind and which most likely would take away her ability to read anything.

‘I could write pages and pages of this, but this would be just me, running away from the truth. There is only one answer to your question, Captain Rogers.

Yelena can read me like a book, but Wanda is the only one who can edit the words.

I will meet a hundred people, and none of them will be like Wanda.

You told me that in order to make this decision, I needed to think about something simple. Who would I miss more if I had to lose in life, Wanda or Yelena? It was not so simple.

Because Wanda left me first and I had to get used to the pain day by day. But Yelena will never let me in enough to miss her. Not when she also knows that I'm always looking back, just like a little kid, waiting for the moment when Wanda Maximoff will have a spare piece of attention to trade with me.

I know I can survive missing her in my life because it is a feeling I am used to.

I just don't want to lose her again. I don't want to survive without her, I want to live with her.

I will tell her.

I will.

I-”

"Having fun, Maximoff?" The witch jumps out of her chair at your sudden arrival. It is a mixture of shock and embarrassment, she cringes like a child being caught and her face burns even more at your relaxed posture, waist resting on the doorstop and arms crossed. Her favorite smile on your face.

"I-I was just..."

"Snooping." You complete, but you don't sound the least bit angry, just provocative. You uncross your arms to reach for the cell phone in your jeans pocket. "Yeah, I got a notification of a small change in my drive. I guess I was right about the boundaries issues topic..."

Wanda steps forward, almost desperate. "I didn't mean to! I-I accidentally clicked on it, and when I saw my name, I couldn't help it-"

You chuckle, nodding in her direction as a sign that it was okay. "Relax, I'm just teasing you."

Wanda chuckles nervously, aware that you were getting too close. She holds her breath but you only lean toward the computer, humming in confirmation that it is indeed your list that she has spent the last few moments reading before turning your attention back to her.

"I'm really sorry." She murmurs embarrassedly, looking down at her own feet. Wanda really expects you to yell at her, to be angry at her for breaking your privacy and invading what is clearly a very personal vent. But you just stare back at her, and completely tear her apart as you take one of your hands to her hair, gentle fingers tracing the loose strands behind the nape of her neck to the front.

"I didn't get a chance to say that red really suits you."

"T-thanks." She risks a look into your eyes, and her heart explodes at the intensity she finds.

"Actually I didn't get a chance to say much at all." You continue, a small smile appearing on your lips. Wanda tries to focus on your next words and not on your hand playing with her hair. "You ran out of the party. I was planning to ask you to dance."

She swallows dryly, trying to calm her own nerves. She's tired of games; they've hurt you both enough.

"I don't understand your list." She retorts in an affected voice, her gaze in a mix of hope and fear. "You say...you say you're going to tell me, but you're leaving-"

"We both are." You retort as if you are reminding her. Without stopping smiling, you use your free hand to search for something in your coat pocket. "It turns out, Nat and Lena really do have a lot of time catching up to do. And well, I know you do magic portals now, but I still trust planes."

In your hand are first-class tickets to Central-Southeastern Europe. You let Wanda hold them, appraising the item in shock as you clarify:

"Agatha mentioned that you need to find out more about yourself, and I thought, there is no better place than where it all began. Unfortunately, Sokovia no longer has an airport, but we can stay around. And get a car..."

She looks at you with watery eyes. "And y-you want to come with me?"

You smile at her so tenderly that she would have burst into tears if she weren't already doing so. Your hands find her cheeks, gently wiping away her tears as you clarify:

"Isn't it clear yet, Wanda? I'll go wherever you want me."

Something mixed between a sob and a relieved laugh escapes her; You have a very similar expression, and as you wipe away her tears, you kiss her cheeks and the tip of her nose to reassure her.

Wanda sighs, closing her eyes for a moment.

"Detka, I'm so scared." She confesses in a whisper. "We've hurt each other before. I don't want to ever hurt you again."

You nod and wait for her to stare you in the eyes.

"There is no such thing as a perfect relationship, Wands." Your tone, while firm, is also tender. "And we're both complicated. But I want this, us because I'd rather work on our differences than start anything new with someone else. You're the only one I want."

She stares at you trying to absorb all the sincerity in her words. For a second, even with the list, she takes a chance:

"But Yelena?"

You give her a small smile, holding her hand in yours at the height of your heart. "She could tell even before me that there was no one but you. Lena will continue the mission with Natasha, as it should be. And I will stay with you if you choose me."

She laughs tearfully, nodding. "Of course, I choose you, idiot." She assures. "I love you." And Wanda repeats and repeats until you kiss her.

It seems ridiculous that Wanda has gone without it you when your lips meet again. The worst part is that she only realizes how much she has missed you once you touch her again. The needy sounds that escape her are almost desperate, full of passion, and tugging at your clothes, trying to bring you closer than is humanly possible.

You give her everything. Your mouth, your tongue, your hands. She is pressed against the table, kissing you as if she wants to make up for all the time wasted in a single night.

There is a ripping of clothes, her dress will end up in a pile on the floor. No hesitation: Wanda gives you the green light as she snaps your belt off. There’s a promise of a future together that she can’t wait to live in the way you worship every corner of her body that night.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #marvel imagines

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lisbeth-kk · 7 months ago

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May Prompts (27) Jealousy

The Luckiest Girl in the World (chapter27)

Summary: Rosie and Timothy travel the Greek islands. An intriguing experience on Santorini, puzzles and irks Rosie immensely. When Timothy doesn't react to her liking, there's only one option on how to move forward.

Twenty-Seven Years Old

To celebrate my birthday and my new fulltime job as a political risk analyst, Timothy and I went island-hopping in Greece. Liwia and her girlfriend had done it last year, and it appealed to us both. Having nothing but the flights planned, made me feel a bit reckless but it was quite freeing as well.

The only thing we’d decided on was to stick to the Cyclades and we started our journey by taking a ferry to the small island Antiparos. Several people who let out rooms stood waiting on the quay as we disembarked. An elderly and friendly looking man caught our attention, and the room he had to offer was more than sufficient.

Our first breakfast is one I’ll remember forever. The small restaurant was situated by the seafront where the fishing boats came in with their catch. Faded coloured fishing nets hung to dry in the sun, the scent of salt weaving its way to our nostrils.

Freshly pressed orange juice and the fluffiest omelette I’d ever come across, ensured the perfect start of our day.

We hired a moped to explore a little. The trip took us through a landscape of olive trees and flowers we didn’t have in the UK. Our destination was the famous cave with stalagmites and stalactites. The stalagmite at the entrance is apparently 45 million years old, the oldest in Europe.

We were warm and a bit sweaty after standing out in the sun, while we waited for our guide. The air inside was pleasantly chill and got even colder as we descended the 411 steps to the heart of the cave. It was a mesmerising sight, and knowing that this was the nature’s own doing, left me amazed and humble.

At a cosy taverna we ate the best Greek salad to date. The ripe tomatoes paired with the salty feta cheese, olives, onions, the rich olive oil and the homemade bread, almost made me religious for a moment.

The beach close to our quarters, was small, secluded and blessedly free of crowds. We had taken a boat to a famous beach the day before, but we’d barely found a free space to lay down our blankets, so this felt like paradise in comparison.

Another short boat ride away was the bigger island Paros. We took the bus to the other side of the island. I don’t remember anything else from that trip than the hours we spent in Naoussa. Several boats painted in bright colours lay bobbing in the water close to the restaurants that encircled the bay. It may sound simple, but it was the most beautiful view, and I couldn’t take my eyes off it. We sat there for hours, eating seafood and drinking Greek white wine.

***

So far, it had been a “normal” vacation, or tedious as Papa would’ve called it. That all ended when we sat foot on Santorini. Getting a room was easy enough, and relieved of our heavy rucksacks we went for a stroll in the main street of Fira. Every other shop was a jewellery shop, and the necklaces displayed bore the resemblance to what pharaohs and Cleopatra wore. Heavy, massive and ridiculously expensive. For each shop they seemed to grow bigger and uglier. We had quite a laugh at that.

The most peculiar thing happened at the restaurant we had lunch. It was a terrace with a breathtaking view over the Aegean Sea. We’d decided to stay for a while and ordered more iced tea, making ourselves comfortable under the big parasol. We had both brought a book, and for a while we read in silence. A repetitive sound of paper being ripped, caught my attention.

An elderly woman had taken up residence at the table next to ours. She had short frizzy hair, more grey than brown now, her glasses were round with a white frame. The summer dress she wore had big patterns in green, red, white, and orange. On her feet were white flip-flops.

“Stop staring,” Timothy whispered.

He startled me and I looked annoyed at him, but averted my eyes and took a sip of my drink. The moment the sound of ripped paper reached my ears again, my eyes were drawn to the spectacle at the other table.

The woman read a book too. A paperback. The curious thing I almost couldn’t fathom, was that whenever she finished a page, she ripped it out and placed it in a pile under her plate. Why would anyone want to do such a thing? What if you needed to go back some pages to look up something you’ve missed. It could never be read by another person, since she apparently left pages wherever she sat down to read. It bore no logic, and it irked me.

“Aren’t you curious about why she does it?” I whispered to Timothy.

“Not particularly. My book is far too interesting, and you won’t get an answer unless you ask her, and I guess you aren’t inclined to do that,” was his phlegmatic answer.

Timothy’s ability to turn off the world and disappear into his reading or writing, was admirable, but now it almost made me jealous of his book. I wanted to speculate with someone, solve this odd conundrum. There would be no more reading on my part after this, so I took out my phone instead.

Want to solve a mystery for me?

Pray tell! I’m bored to death and about to shoot the wall. P

Also available on AO3

Friendly warning: after 25 years the mystery is still unsolved. Don’t be shy about suggesting what the meaning of this appalling behaviour could be 🤭

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @helloliriels @raina-at

More tags in the replies

#may prompts 2024 #may 27: jealousy #sherlock fandom #rosie watson #sherlock #john watson #johnlock #bbc sherlock #sherlock fanfic #ao3 fanfic

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wolfpants · 10 months ago

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Tucked between a greasy spoon caf and an empty retail space with boarded-up windows, Chariot Books makes absolutely no secret of the fact it’s a gay bookshop. It’s small, but mighty; Sirius and his business partner Fabian have only had it for a couple of years, and before then, their business had run out of both their flats, a mail order service that kept Sirius’s home stuffed full of boxes and paperwork. A clandestine but well-oiled machine, Harry always thought. Sirius took great pride in it too, always seemed to be working, always seemed to be taking delivery of a new title or import from San Francisco or somewhere else Harry has never been to.

Harry still remembers the day they opened, this tiny shop with its floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, wire rotating stands full of paperbacks, posters and notices tacked to the walls wherever there’s space, advertising everything from poetry readings to weekly interest group meetings to helpline and crisis information.

A riot of colour. A riot of community.

Back then, Harry had been fresh out of secondary school in the suburbs, wandering aimlessly toward UCL and a psychology degree he’s still not entirely sure he wants, two years down the line.

He’d gotten the train to London with his dad. A multipurpose visit: to catch up with his godfather, his dad’s oldest friend, and to visit the halls of residence for university because his dad wanted to sus them out before committing.

Nothing like my place at Cambridge, he’d said with an approving, delighted laugh as they looked around the common room together with its vending machines full of pop and crisps and sweets, and the groups of casually dressed kids listening to American pop music on a portable record player set up on one of the plastic dining tables. And later that night, before they went back home to Surrey, the launch party for the shop: Harry staring up at the pink triangle on the sign above the door and feeling a huge sense of pride and admiration for his favourite relative in the world, who had finally made it all happen, after all those years.

Today I got to visit one of my favourite bookshops in the world - Gay's The Word - the shop Chariot Books in Pages of You is based. It's a gem of a place, rich with history, with an amazing stock of LGBTQ literature, erotica, and nonfiction. I spent an enormous amount of time researching its history for this fic, my first ever Drarry fic. I haven't been back since before I even conceived that fic, so getting to browse the shelves today was amazing for me! So joyous to see places like this stand the test of time and display their legacy so proudly.

#personal #pages of you #drarry #drarry fic #writing

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constellationguy · 9 months ago

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That Radio Show

Summary: In the absence of the radio demon listeners of hell find a new broadcast to enjoy.

Chapter three

Chapter one: The New Voice On the Air

Every child dreams to be famous when they grow up, you were no different. When you were younger you wanted nothing more than to have your voice heard from all corners of the globe, to be heard on every radio station, to have your voice ring in the ears of millions of people. You took countless vocal lessons as a kid to prepare you for audition after audition, however very little came from it. Until in high school, you landed a job with your local radio station and fell in love with the art form. You worked almost full time despite school work piling up, the high of being live on air was worth barely passing a class or two. You did school work while music played on air when you weren’t speaking, it was the best job in the world in your book and you wouldn’t trade it for anything. Eventually you took over the station after you graduated, working from 5:30am to 6:00 in the afternoon on most days, but night shifts always had the best callers and the warmest ambiance. You pored your heart and soul into your work until you died in a freak hunting accident in 2017.

When you arrived in hell you had dear like qualities, “I guess getting shot like game turned you into game in the after life” you thought looking at your new doe like features. Being new to hell was such an uncomfortable feeling, however you tried to get yourself in your feet as soon as possible. You spent about half a year working in a tailor shop getting yourself a house and a phone. Once you got enough money you finally got yourself an office and radio equipment to start broadcasting within the month. To advertise the radio station you made a hellstagram account just simply named “That Radio Show”. Your bio stated “That Radio Show will be making its debut on station 66.62 fm on the air in 2 weeks time at 5:30am on XX,XX, 2017! Be sure to tune in and maybe give us a call while on the air to chat at (666)-xxx-xxxx or send us mail to read on the air at xxxxx PO Box. Can’t wait to be on the air!”. You made posts advertising your debut, and asking your followers about ideas what to name your new radio show, and of course song suggestions. To your surprise your account went viral and got millions of followers in just a few days, your dms and comments filled with suggestions and surprisingly sweet comments with very little backlash. So when you debuted at 5:30am you had thousands of listeners tune in. Just as 5:30am graced hells residents, a sweet piano piece started to echo through the streets of hell. You lowered the volume just slightly hoping it would give just enough ambiance to your broadcast before speaking.

“Good morning residents of hell.” you said cautious of the volume of your voice.

“It is currently 5:30am in Pentagram City and for many it is time to start the day. As some of you may know this is the debut broadcast of That Radio Show!” You said excitedly.

“So please be sure to check out That Radio Show on hellstagram to send in song suggestions. As this is my first day on the air I hope my dear listeners can treat me with some grace” you hummed.

“Well, I’ll let those of you who got woken up by me go back to sleep and those waking up in peace for a bit, here is “I Don’t Want To Set The World On Fire” by The Ink Spots”.

You then muted yourself before fading the piano music and changing it to the song. You let out a breath you didn’t know you held and smiled into your microphone. You spent about two hours introducing the next song in the broadcast order before you got your first call.

“That was “Let’s Do It” by Ella Fitzgerald. Such a sweet song this early in the morning don’t you think? Well-“ you were caught off guard by the phone ringing.

“It seems we have our first caller,” you answered the phone.

“Hello dear you’re on the air!”

“Oh darling!” a southern voice called through the phone.

“Your voice is just velvet to the ears of all of us in Cannibale Town, we are loving you down here darling! Keep up the tunes and let that voice shine.”

“Aw thank you dear,” you cooed into the microphone, “Such high praises on debut day, but nonetheless it is well appreciated.” Listeners could hear the smile in your voice and boy did it pull heart strings.

“Well of course darling, can’t let a beautiful voice go un-complemented, you have a good day now.” The lady said into the phone. “You too, Miss.” You exhaled, chuckling a bit, a smile evident in your tone.

“How sweet that was, ha, well it is currently 8:00am in Pentagram City and the weather is perfect for a morning walk. I hope you can take that opportunity and start your morning off right. This is “Je Te Leaisserai Des Mots” by Patrick Watson, hope you enjoy.” Once you muted yourself you practically squealed in joy with the blatant success of the radio show. Your hellstagram was full of comments praising your voice and pick if songs. The overwhelming support uncommon in hell was shocking and such a surprise, a welcome one though. You got a few more calls throughout the day, only one of them being rude and chastising radio for being an out of date media and flirting with you brazenly on the air.

“Oh that’s no way to speak to a lady, let alone live on air,” you cooed feigning innocence. You sent a devastatingly loud electroshock through the line and your callers line went dead as he fell to the floor.

“Oh dear it seems he hung up,” you chuckled “well- no matter, just remember dear listeners don’t be brazen and you won’t get shocked,” you said with edge in your voice. “Well, this is “Viola Sonata: 1. Largo” composed by Andrei Volkonsky.” You said giving out a light satisfying sigh. As the song closed your voice again rang in the heads of your listeners, “Well doesn’t that piece just tear at your terrible heart strings, such an erre sounding piece. How about something a bit lighter, this is “Bella Belle” by the Electric Swing Circus, hopefully a good dance will shake off any lingering weariness and tension, tune in and dance along, here’s Bella Belle”.

The rest of your day was rather uneventful.

“Well dear listeners, it is 6pm and my time on air is sadly up, don’t worry though. If you stay tuned into this station you’ll still hear music that I lined up to play until I get back tomorrow at 5:30am. Have a lovely evening sinners, I hope you all can tune in tomorrow.” You finally muted yourself for the last time today and leaded back into your chair sighing satisfied. You missed this feeling when you died. Well, no longer would you miss this feeling, you thought as you grab your things and left your office. Just as you locked up the owner of the building spawned behind you.

“SHIT-“ you yelled jumping and dropping your things.

“Such a jumpy thing you are,” the man teased to your annoyance. “You made a rise out of hell today toots, all the old souls have been craving a new voice to cling to after that old shit up and disappeared.” This man was just trying to get a rise out of you at this point but you indulged him, wouldn’t want to get kicked out of your office, he owned the building after all.

“Cut to the chase, what do you want,” you said shortly electricity dripping off your tongue.

“Oh I thought deer were jumpy and scarred things, never thought one would bite back so violently.” He said, voice full of tease and annoyance.

“Unless you are here to tell me about the this “old shit” of a senior I apparently have I would like to leave,” you said pushed through him going down the stair well.

“No need to be a bitch toots,” he called after you. You let it go for now, a little insults in exchange for a bit of information was a fair trade in your opinion.

After fixing yourself a meal you looked up your supposed senior, from what you could tell that “old shit” the building owner was talking about was the Radio Demon. He disappeared this year, a terrifying demon just up and left the public eye. From what you found online he was an overlord and a powerful one at that. He used is radio show is display his power, so this is what you were needed to live up to. Odd.

Chapter two: In the Eyes of the Public

With the radio demon’s disappearance there is less competition, you thought, though that’s a big role to fill for the public. No matter, you thought, you’ll learn to manage, he’ll be back soon… probably….

Everyday your influence on hell’s population grew, listening to your opinions and snide comments, hells older population absolutely fell in love with you. The younger population wasn’t to fond of radio as you were but, to each their own, as long as they keep their complaints between each other and not on your broadcast. As the months past the public grew fonder of you in the radio demons absence, you worry for his return but as months turn into years you worried less and less about him coming after you.

Well into your first year broadcasting you made a slip up that you somehow ended up in your favor.

“Good evening my dear listeners, it is currently 3:30pm in Pentagram City and this lovely winter has graced our dear city and lulled us into a somber mood. I can’t deny that I am not feeling it too so todays music is definitely in the feels today, here is “I’ll Never Smile Again” by Tommy Dorsey” you lowered a dial and muted yourself before sitting back and singing along to the music. Little did you know you turned down the songs volume and muted the piano you had playing in the background, not yourself. So as you listened to the light music and sang along to the sad tune all of hell could hear your voice. Many of your regular listeners simply enjoyed the show while newer listeners decided to record the song and it spread like wildfire, to your embarrassment.

You tried gloss over your mistake however hell seemed to love this little mishap and blew it way out of proportion. Soon enough your dear listeners began calling you “the princess of radio”. As much as you didn’t like the name at first, terrified for when the radio demon came back, it stuck and there was nothing you could do about it.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor

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philtstone · 9 months ago

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jaime/claire -- holding the other's chin up

after literally one million years i finally finished this. this is not technically an om-shanti-om au but it's not not one, either

On Wednesday morning, Jamie and his Ghost had a row.

It is now Thursday afternoon, and Jamie is sitting in a hospital room, covered in muck from head to toe and wondering if this isn’t God’s great punishment for daring to leave his bloody flat.

He’s not sure when he started referring to the Ghost as his. Traditionally, if you’re the sort to believe in such things, ownership of ghosts runs through 1) ancestry or 2) a familial home. His aunt Jocasta, for example, had an ornery old Frenchman in the cellar of the MacKenzies’ old brick tower who had no relation to any of them, but wouldn’t let the damned house go generation after generation; Jocasta claims the bastard had been the mysterious lad who seduced that one grand-cousin of theirs into batting for the other side, which led to his divorcing his wife and moving to Cuba – and who is Jamie to have his doubts, really, when he’s got a ghost of his own.

The argument could be made that Jamie’s ghost has taken up residence in his flat — hence his turn of phrase. But he’s only renting after all, and more than that, he’s got a weird feeling she never snooped through the previous tenants’ bookshelves or sock drawers or anything either.

Now she won’t speak to him. It is four months to the day Jamie moved in, and, not two hours later, made her acquaintance while having an angry cry on the toilet. It’d been a rough go of it – between the accident and Jenny and Da —

Jamie had, at that time, resigned himself to the inevitability of his flunking out of graduate work before he’d ever started it. He’d barely been making it to his physio appointments when the Ghost appeared, let alone his classes; either he wouldn’t answer Jenny’s calls or she wouldn’t answer his; and in the twenty four hours he’d been in his new flat, the upstairs neighbours had already had audibly angry sex twice, which was two times too many for Jamie’s fragile mental state (not to mention his resounding lack of girlfriend). It was amidst all of this that The Ghost materialized.

The Ghost glows like a firefly, speaks like she stepped out of a World War Two-era black and white film and can’t seem to stay in one spot long enough for Jamie to see her face properly. She hasn't got a name, has given no indication of a family, and won’t tell him how and where she died. She’s miserable when she isn’t cracking laughs out of him by snooping through his old copy of Descartes and wondering aloud whether he actually reads the books he owns. She herself has no patience for reading (though she accidentally knocked a lamp over exclaiming at his battered copy of Lord of the Rings), endless patience for his sporadic monologues on morphological theory, and a complete fascination with his mobile phone. Also, the soapy mess that is Grey’s Anatomy, which was playing on the telly once.

“How old were ye,” Jamie asked one day, blowing on his instant noodles, which the Ghost had been eyeing with great skepticism for the latter half of the last fifteen minutes. He supposed she had every right to judge, if she were once a twentieth century housewife, but very little about her suggested an abundance of housewifely skills.

“What are your thoughts on knitting?” asked the Ghost, apropos of nothing.

“I asked first.”

“Did you.”

“When ye went, I mean. How old were ye?”

For a moment it was hard to look directly at her, because she was suddenly far less clearly formed than before. Then, quick as a wink, she was young and mostly corporeal again.

“Terribly,” said the Ghost. “I had white hair and everything.”

He mulled this over. “I can imagine it must’ve been quite somethin’ tae behold,” he says. “Sorcha.”

She smiled, all brilliance, all tenderness – very different from the sadness that lingered around her otherwise. Slowly she floated over, under his silent observation, and with hands that were not fully there and made of the stuff of nightlights cupped his face, lifting his chin. There in his sad little kitchen she glowed. Jamie kept blinking behind his glasses, like maybe if he did it hard enough, he could finally see her. Did she have a husband she missed? Jamie thought. Was it paining her something awful to be stuck in his sad little studio, with the two plants left living and the little grey cat no one in the building would properly claim ownership of?

Then, “Knitting,” she said. So Jamie confessed what little his Mam had taught him as a kid.

She knows all the scientific names of the bones and ligaments and tissues in his body that were damaged in the accident, and – perhaps due to her ghostly nature – can preternaturally guess when each thing is paining him. It upsets her to realize that her hands are not solid enough to sooth the hurts, and gladdens her when he assures her companionship is taking his mind off things a bit, before – incomprehensibly – she looks miserable again. She swears like a sailor and would probably fart in her sleep, were she not an incorporeal being with a transmutable form not in need of traditional rest.

She’s the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen. Nevermind he can’t really see her; Jamie just knows. Her hair is one large amorphous cloud of curls and she stares at him with such unspeakable sadness and makes a little humming noise when she’s at rest, like the singing of a hundred little stones. And there is a soft sort of buttery halo around her, which was enough to stun him into silence at their first meeting and has become oddly soothing now, enough that he gives her that silly little nickname, and he’s lonely, something feckin’ awful.

It’s not like he’s not self-aware. Problem is, now she might be gone forever, and it’s all his fault.

He keeps playing it over and over in his head. He might’ve been a little churlish, sure – he was tired from his early lecture, he’d kept his contacts in too long, the anniversary of Da’s passing was coming up on Friday and Jenny kept insisting that he ought to come for a visit …

That was it, wasn’t it? Jamie didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to go home, and the Ghost in all her sort of sad floaty care for him snapped in the way of a brittle little twig. She had an awful temper sometimes. He’d heard her yell at the kitchen wall once when she found she couldn’t float through it.

“James Fraser,” she said in her posh little accent, “are you going to continue wallowing in this miserable fucking flat or are you going to get up off your arse and face the bloody world like a man?”

Jamie found this somewhat infuriating. He had left his flat, thanks very much – he went to class now, and he was making real progress in physio, and, well, sure, he’d turned down the lads the last few times they invited him out for a match, but maybe he’d go this time – there was no proof he wouldn’t! So it wasn’t feckin’ fair of her, to talk down to him so. Jamie refused to be called a coward in his own flat.

By a ghost, no less.

“It’s no’ like you ever leave either,” he’d snapped in response, the discomfort of being seen rankling under his skin and sharpening his tongue into something rude.

“I’m dead,” said the Ghost.

“Aye,” muttered Jamie mutinously. “Well.”

“Don’t be an arse.”

“Ye’d be fair lonely wi’out me here tae keep ye company, would ye no’?”

“I’d – read your books,” she defended, unbelievably. “You – you just – don’t you want a happy and vibrant life?”

“What do you think?” he picked up his books, which were strewn over the living room couch, for something to do.

“Well, I don’t know! You keep hiding!”

“I’m no’ hiding!”

“Yes, you are!”

“Mary, Michael and – why do ye care so much, ye irritating apparition!”

“I care because I bloody well have to!”

Had he not been so caught up in his own irritation, he would have noted the odd strand of desperation in her voice.

“Fine,” said Jamie, waving about An Introduction To Language And Linguistics, Third Edition with finality. “Well. I’ve plenty of reasons to be a homebody, ken -- right ones, real ones. But if that’s the case, then yer whole existence is sad.”

“I beg your pardon,” said the Ghost.

“Aye,” Jamie was really working up to something, he’d thought, “Ye clearly havenae anywhere else to be, hangin’ about this dump.”

“Where else would I bloody well go?”

“I dinna ken, do I?” He couldn’t see her properly – the details of her face were always a mystery, but now she kept glowing in and out of focus as a general ill emotion build within her in the far corner of the room, “as ye tell me nothing about yerself and spend half the day actin’ like a time traveller and the other half the day lookin’ at me like ye’re about tae cry! I don’t think I’m the one wallowing here, Sorcha, and at least my presence is wanted by the feckin’ landlord! No one asked you tae show up!”

Perhaps he had gone too far; something about the Ghost’s presence blanched, like he’d given her a true fright. Then, after an awful moment of strangulated silence … she snapped back.

It devolved pretty quickly from there. In between the mutual screaming, Jamie got the feeling that she would have thrown things, could she have gotten her incorporeal hands on them properly enough to harness physics.

At some point, he had run out of steam, stormed out, and slammed the door behind himself, intent on finally taking up the offer of rugby with his friends.

Too bad about the torrential downpour. Too bad Rupert tackles like a giant lout, and Jamie slid five feet on the grass before slamming down directly on his shoulder and popping it out of socket.

He sighs, miserably. The hospital room is cold, mostly because he remains so thoroughly damp; his hair is plastered to his forehead and his jeans cling to his legs. So much for going out and partaking in the wide human world like a man properly recovering from a year’s worth of back to back traumas. Hmph. Jamie sniffs and wipes at his glasses (smudged) with his free and un-dislocated arm. He supposes he is recovering, sort of. It’s been easy to miss, given how simple the Ghost has made everything feel, but he feels exceptionally more human now than he did mere months ago. Jamie of September would never have dislocated his shoulder, because he was too busy being depressed.

He squirms in place. He ought to go home and check on the Ghost. What if all the yelling caused her to simply vanish? What if she’s hiding from him, indefinitely? He doesn’t think Edinburgh local business bureau has any reliable sort of ghost hunting service listed on its website. When Angus stopped by to pick up Jamie’s laptop so he could at least get his readings done for class tomorrow via hospital room, he responded to Jamie’s possibly-deranged Ghost-related line of questioning with an honest, “I’ve looked everywhere, mate. Cannae see hide nor hair of any ghostly lassie. D’ye think she’s gone tae her sister’s, perhaps?”

Even if this were a helpful question, Jamie hasn’t any idea whether the Ghost has any siblings at all.

Shite. He groans. It’s bad enough the shock’s worn off, and his shoulder is starting to properly hurt now. He hangs his head and leans his forehead against his uninjured wrist, squeezing his eyes shut against the mess everything’s become. He’s still facing the ground with his eyes shut when the faint sound of heeled footsteps swells louder and turns the corner, entering the room with a neat swish of hospital bed paper and curtain.

“Mr. James Fraser, is it?” says a light, distinctly British female voice, evidently scanning over whatever chart they’ve got set up for him, “that’s a nasty glenohumeral dislocation you’ve got there. You wouldn’t have happened to be playing rugby in the rain like an idiot, would you?”

Jamie cracks his eyes open specifically to roll them. He doesn’t get very far: the doctor standing in front of him is a tall young woman, with a mass of thick, dark curly hair tied out of her face, wry laughing eyes and an upturned little mouth that makes it very clear they are both supposed to be in on whatever joke she’s trying to make. She has a slender neck, a very competent set to her brows, and could be described as somewhat twiggy in figure save for her wonderfully curved arse, which Jamie gets an unexpected view of as she leans over the chair in the corner to close the bed’s curtain properly.

Jamie unsticks his throat with a bit of effort. “Hm?” he says, very eloquently.

“I asked, are you feeling dizzy at all? Nauseous?”

“No, I feel fine. ‘Tis just my arm, Sassenach.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Between the dislocated shoulder and the woman in front of him it could really be anything that’s causing his complete discombobulation – enough to put his foot in it, it seems – but something about the tone and inflection of her sharp little question has Jamie’s head spinning more than the rugby tackle.

“Er – Doctor Sassenach, I mean. Or rather – jest Doctor, but I didnae mean it as an offense – it was just an observation. Granted, we’re in Edinburgh, so it wouldn’t – but I’m from – that is, my family, I grew up far North, so …” he trails off; she is now very industriously poking and prodding at his collar bone. Oh, right – he does remember her saying she was about to do that. “I meant no offense,” he concludes.

“No offense taken,” says the Doctor. She sounds like she’s on the verge of laughing, this time at him.

“Ye’ve got a very gentle touch,” Jamie says, like a right idiot.

“Thank you,” says the Doctor. “Now, I’m going to reset your arm – there’s nothing else for it, it’ll hurt like hell for a minute. But you’ll be alright Mr. Fraser.”

They go through the motions together; Jamie follows her instructions, marvels at how strong and precise she is with skinny arms and small hands, and only blacks out a little when his shoulder pops back into place.

“God,” he gasps, blinking. In front of him, the Doctor is looking over him with concern.

“Everything alright? How are you feeling?”

“A little bit like someone’s punched my lights out, I willnae lie.” She laughs, but her hands remain on him, gentle first on his chest, then neck, pushing him upright.

“An expected feeling,” she says. “Hold still a moment, I’m going to properly check you for a concussion.”

And before Jamie can protest that he’s fine, she has taken his chin in both hands and gently tilted his face up towards her, so as to better shine the little flashlight into his eyes.

It’s as if a giant multi-metric tonne train has slammed into Jamie at twelve hundred kilometers an hour. The nice Sassenach doctor is glowing like a firefly and eyeing his ramen with skepticism and asking him about knitting and crying and yelling and touching him so gently because now her hands can actually touch him and he knows her, he swears he knows her deep deep deep in some inner place inside of him and quite possibly he is in love with her, and maybe has been, forever.

Jamie comes back to Earth. She is making an altogether undignified face as she moves his chin back and forth and examines his reaction time. Her tongue sticks out a little. Bits of frizz have popped out of her ponytail and are decorating her hairline like a halo.

“Hi,” Jamie says breathily, like a fool.

She stills, and looks over to meet his eye, and for a moment they stare at each other like that, nose to nose.

“Hello,” she says.

Then she pulls away and marks something on her notepad; the interaction is all but over. Off to her next patient, probably. “Alright. Well, no concussion, from what I can tell. I’ll ask you to self-monitor, though, and I’ll prescribe you some pain meds for the shoulder. I’d go home and get some rest if I were you,” she hesitates, and in a curious sort of way adds, “is everything alright, really?”

“Fine,” says Jamie. “Only, just now I felt like I’d seen a ghost.” He laughs, and it’s an overall strangled sound, which can and should be forgiven. “Ye ever felt anything like that, Sassenach?”

She is halfway to the door already, and he’s sure she will call him a nutter on the way out, even if in that wry way of hers. But she stops. Turns back. Smiles at him – not quite radiant, nor tender, but curious and familiar.

“You know … I think I do?”

“Aye?”

“It’s Claire, by the way.”

He blinks. “Your ghost?”

“No,” and now she really is laughing at him. “My name. Dr. Claire Beauchamp. But if you must call me an outlander, James Fraser whose family lived in the North, then I suppose I am alright with that, too.”

She leaves Jamie grinning more widely than he has in months. He’s got the odd feeling that whenever he gets home, his flat will be empty. Strangely, this is not an upsetting premonition. He’s more concerned with somehow getting Dr. Claire Beauchamp’s phone number – and somehow, he’s pretty sure the Ghost would approve.

#i havent written jamieclaire in literal years so i hope the characterizations are ok #my truest beloveds actually. i missed them so much #outlander #jamie fraser #claire beauchamp #claire x jamie

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elizmanderson · 3 days ago

Text

2024 wrap-up, part 1

part two | part three | part four

[ABBA voice] here we go again, my my—

anyway, now that I've put that song in your head, let's look back at my year

writing

book stuff

as you may know, my second book, The Keeper of Lonely Spirits, releases in March 2025! so I spent much of this year editing, then editing some more, then line editing, then copy editing, then going over pass pages, then over more pass pages... the process never ends (until it's too late to make changes)

(artist: Xuan Loc Xuan)

if you find any typos in the final book come March, instead of being annoyed about them, you should recognize their determination and give them an award for MVT (most valuable typo) and a kiss on their lil typewritten forehead. because they made it not only through my own fifty six thousand rereads, but also through my agent, my editor, my copy editor, and my proofreader, and I think almost every single one of those people went through the book at least twice

anyway, The Keeper of Lonely Spirits is a cozy fantasy about an old man cursed with immortality who hunts ghosts rather than making mortal friends who will die one day. when the residents of an Ohio town beset by a vengeful spirit adopt him as their own, he must decide: leave to protect his heart, or stay to save their lives?

link to StoryGraph listing

link to signed preorders through my local indie

link to unsigned preorders through the publisher

I also received my first ever trade reviews, one of which was a starred review from Library Journal! trade reviews can convince booksellers and libraries to purchase the book, especially if positive, especially if starred. they look good on a book's resume

read the reviews here:

link to Library Journal review

link to Publishers Weekly review

short stories

because I was so busy with novel stuff, I only wrote one short story this year. part of one short story. back at the start of January.

you know what happened? I let it sit for a few days for reasons I no longer remember, and when I came back I couldn't remember quite where I was going with it a l a s

anyway it's a queer Cinderella-inspired short, and I'd love to magically figure out a direction for it afresh so I can finish it in 2025

in-progress stuff

...we still won't talk about how revising last year's cozy mystery is going, but in my defense (a) I've been on deadline for other things and (b) just nine chapters in I had already strayed so far from my scene list that I had to rethink the whole book, whoops

mostly, I've been working on the second book that this publisher bought, which has resulted in a very terrible first draft full of so many footnotes and brackets that I would almost call it a zero draft, except I can't bring myself to use that term*

(*for myself. y'all use it as much as you like, if you like it)

literally it was 79,000 words, 6,000 words of which were footnotes-to-self so as not to ruin my fancy WIP aesthetic (Blackadder and Perpetua ftw) with comments

anyway, then there was a marginally less terrible second draft, which is what my editor got (a respectable 98,000 words with zero footnotes and almost zero brackets)

THEN I was supposed to take a break and not think about the book again until my editor read it and got back to me...but instead I immediately wrote a brand new synopsis, sent it to her like "seriously you don't even have to read the version I already sent you bc it's gonna look so different," and then a couple weeks later whoops turned around started rewriting the whole story

which isn't going great bc I really DO need a break, I can TELL I need a break, but unfortunately when it comes to writing my brain is like "NO BREAK. ONLY WRITE >:[" which is Not Good. but I am trying to let myself casually poke at it instead of going hard and getting it done fast enough to send to my editor before she can even read the version she has lolol, so that's something

no-context spoilers for this WIP:

(tried finding the original post but could not, so screenshot from the internet it is)

that's it for part one! part two to follow is here! link to part two

#wrap up 2024 #wrap up #2024 wrapped

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fr3sh-tragedies · 2 years ago

Text

Patient

[Resident Evil: Village] Bela Dimitrescu x Female Reader

Word Count: 10k

Proofread: Yes

Content Warnings: Angst, panic attacks, and mentions of not feeling good enough.

[A/N]: This is probably the longest story I've written for Tumblr so far, so I hope you'll enjoy it! I'm really proud of how this one turned out. Individual stories for Cassandra and Daniela will be posted soon as well!

Enjoy!

Maids all parted to the sides as they worked, worried of their safety if they got in the way of all three Dimitrescu sisters as they made their way towards the entrance of the parlor. The three women chatted amongst one another with soft smiles as they grew closer to the door. They had cleaned themselves up a moment ago, making sure their cloaks and dresses were presentable, their hair was thoroughly brushed, and the large stains of blood, that often was an accompanying, trademark feature that adorned their faces, were washed off. As they stepped into the outdoors, warm, bright sunlight beamed down against their fair skin, followed by a gentle breeze that made the leaves of the trees surrounding them rattle lightly.

Bela couldn’t help but sigh at the calm, welcoming feeling of the weather. It was early into Spring, meaning she and both of her younger sisters, Cassandra and Daniela, were finally able to leave the safety of their home without the risk of freezing to death. Three pairs of golden eyes scanned over the landscape surrounding them as they continued to make conversation with one another. The soft blades of grass, once dried and pale shades of gray and black that had died out from the heavy piles of snow and harsh, bitter cold, were now beginning to flourish into a vibrant green. Leaves that littered the floor and clung to the branches of the blossoming trees mirrored the colors of the grass, and were beginning to grow lush and more abundant.

Slowly beginning to tune her sisters out, Bela’s eyes trailed up from the land and gazed up at the sky. Once dark and gloomy with heavy clouds crowding the sky, threatening to pour rain or snow, were clearing up enough to reveal a bright, vast blue sky. The sun planted itself somewhere above, often nestled behind the thin, pale clouds. It brought a smile to the eldest daughter’s face. The scenery alone was comforting to her. She glanced back over at her sisters, who laughed at a joke shared between each other. A wider smile tugged at the corner of her lips, a feeling of contentment washing through her body.

Each year, after her mother, Alcina, was sure that the weather was nice enough to leave for a while, she’d let them head out to the village to shop around for whatever they might’ve needed. Often, Daniela and Bela went to the Duke’s shop to look for new books, although they were typically of different genres, and their sister Cassandra tended to wander around and look for better materials she could use when hand-crafting new weapons to add to her personal collection. They were each given a decent amount of Lei to purchase what they could and avoid going over-the-top. “If you splurge too much, how will you carry everything home?” She often asked when Daniela would ask for more of an allowance.

The three of them had been going there consistently any time the weather was decent enough, and although the majority of the people in the village feared them, there were a few people who didn’t mind talking to them.

One of them, a young woman who was often searching for books in the same place as her and Daniela, had caught Bela’s attention. No matter what had happened during the day, she always seemed to be so welcoming and gleeful when it came to talking to Bela. Although the eldest daughter was usually too anxious to approach her and speak to her first, it was nice to watch as she excitedly talked with Daniela about the books they would read. She couldn’t help it–the girl had certainly piqued her interest. Even just thinking about her would make her smile and cause her heart to flutter with excitement. And hearing her own name–although just being able to hear her voice in general was good enough–roll so easily off of her tongue made her internally swoon.

Yes, [Y/N] [L/N], a young woman whose family had moved into the village only a few years ago, had caught the attention of Bela, Alcina Dimitrescu’s oldest and more formal daughter, almost immediately. She couldn’t help but stare at her as her soft locks of hair gently fluttered with each gentle gust of wind. The way her cheeks turned a shade of red or pink as she laughed–the way her lips would perk up with each smile or hearty laugh. She felt like had just won or accomplished something anytime one of those grins were sent in her direction or caused by a small joke she wasn’t aware anyone had even heard.

She often found herself lying awake in bed at night, staring at the ceiling as she thought about [Y/N]. Her teeth would often bite down and hook against her bottom lip as she bit back small squeals. She had heard of the stories Daniela would read about women falling in love and acting fidgety and flustered. She used to tease her for finding those stories realistic or captivating, but after being able to talk with [Y/N] so often when she would leave the castle, she understood–she would act that way anytime [Y/N]’s name was even mentioned. Her sisters loved to tease her relentlessly for it. As much as she wanted to snap back with some clever retort, she couldn’t help but admit that she felt something for the girl. She’d smile and blush uncontrollably each night as she’d cradle one of her pillows against her chest and picture it as [Y/N]’s smaller form.

A wide smile that made it feel like her face was splitting often painted her lips whenever she so much as thought of the girl.

“Earth to Bela, are you in there?” Finally pulled from her thoughts, Bela blinked to find Cassandra’s hand waving in her face to grab her attention. She looked over at her, her bewilderment evident on her face. “O-Oh, I apologize. I didn’t realize I had started daydreaming,” she muttered with a soft tone. Knowing smirks planted themselves on Daniela and Cassandra’s faces as they snickered. “What’s so funny?” Bela could feel her face burning up, already aware of what they were thinking. She tried to force the tone of her voice to sound assertive rather than defensive, but it was to no avail. “Oh look, Cass, it seems our dear, sweet sister Bela has a crush,” Daniela cooed as she leaned against her other sister’s shoulder and pretended to whisper to her. Cassandra’s own grin seemed to mirror the youngest daughter’s as she leaned over and acted in a similar manner–whispering “secretly” about their sister’s interest.

“Oh, I agree, Daniela. I wonder, though,” she hummed, tapping her chin with her index finger and letting her eyes wander upwards to appear as though she was pondering something. She and Daniela quickly glanced at one another and giggled. They swarmed to float in front of Bela, who was desperately trying to move past them and avoid the teasing she had already been enduring since the two learned of her feelings. She groaned. “Whoever could it be?” Cassandra questioned sarcastically. “Oh yes, I would like to know as well,” Daniela added just as mockingly. She leaned down, her solid form dissolving anytime Bela attempted to pat her backwards. “Tell us, dear sister, who is it that has your attention?”

Fed up with the taunting, Bela swarmed out of her own materialized form and flew past them as quickly as she could. They cackled at her reaction and followed her. After a moment of trying to catch up to her, they shifted back into their solid forms before they crossed the gate that led to the village. They looked around, expecting to see that Bela had done the same, but they couldn’t spot her. They laughed with each other.

“I wish she would just approach the girl already,” Daniela mumbled as they walked out towards their usual places to shop. “Me too. It’s exhausting seeing her get so flustered about her, but then never do a thing about it,” Cassandra responded. “I don’t know. I find it endearing, actually! Pining after her so much, I mean. It reminds me of a book I read! It’s about–” Cassandra swarmed up and waved back at her sister. She didn’t want to get stuck listening to Daniela babble about a cheesy romance novel she had read, but she had also spotted a certain metal she had been searching for for ages. “Gotta go!” She flew off quickly before disappearing from sight.

Daniela’s bottom lip stuck out as she pouted, crossing her arms with a huff. “How rude,” she muttered. Her disappointment was very short-lived, however, upon spotting the pile of books the Duke had stacked up in front of his wagon. Her eyes lit up as she dashed towards it with excitement.

A soft sigh of relief slipped past Bela’s lips once she managed to escape her sisters. “Ah, Lady Bela! It’s a pleasure to see you, my dear!” The Duke welcomed her warmly, his free hand motioning towards a small section of books atop of a crate as his other hand pulled a cigar towards his lips. “I’ve left out the books you ordered, as well as a few I thought you might enjoy. Miss [L/N] mentioned one she figured you’d like as well. It should be the bottom book in the left stack.” A hum sounded from Bela in response as she sauntered over to the pile on the wooden crate, though her face burned a soft shade of pink as she finally processed the final part of the sentence.

Quickly, she lifted the top books from the one the Duke had spoken of, placed the stack hastily to the side, and picked it up to examine it. She flipped it over and skimmed through the summary before turning to show it to the merchant who smiled down at her. “This one?” She asked, unable to hold back her excitement. He nodded with a laugh. “Yes, she was quite adamant about paying extra for it to be sent in quickly too!” “Really? Will you let her know I want to thank her?” “Oh, there’s no need for that. She’ll be here in a moment to look through the newer selection I have! You’ll have the perfect opportunity to thank her yourself! I believe she left a note for you as well,” he pondered aloud as he dug in a satchel beside him.

“Aha, here we are!” He pulled a small, folded note from the bag and leaned forward as far as he could to hand it to her. Bela stepped forward with anticipation and slipped the paper from his hand. She tucked the book under her arm as she delicately unfolded the note and read through it.

Lady Bela,

I know I could’ve simply told you about this book instead of purchasing it with my own money, but I really wanted to surprise you! I really hope you’ll enjoy it. It’s sort of similar to the last few you read that we spoke about, although I’m sure Daniela would enjoy it as well, possibly even more!

It’s mainly about what you enjoy reading–the history of how this village came to be with insight on different points of views–but it also includes a bit of romance that was a huge deal several years ago. I’m sure your sister would love that. It would certainly give her something to chat about with you and Cassandra, even though Cass seems to find romance…dull?

Ah, I’m not sure how to phrase it, but either way, this book is a quick read, and I’m sure you’ll love it. It can even give us something to chat about the next time we bump into each other!

Yours truly,

[Y/N] [L/N]

Her face went red at the girl’s kind consideration. That, and the small doodles of hearts that lined the page. She hadn’t realized just how wide the grin on her face had gotten until she heard the Duke chuckling from his seat. Glancing up, she saw him draw a puff from his cigar with a knowing look. “Well, you’re positively glowing, my dear,” he mumbled. Bela felt her face growing warmer as she turned away to hide it, earning another hearty laugh from behind her.

“I do hope you can pull yourself together quickly though. It seems your little gift-giver is headed this way now.” The woman felt herself jolt and spin on her heel to stare behind her. Sure enough, [Y/N] was headed towards the merchant’s cart. Bela felt her breath hitch in her throat once her gaze trailed across the young woman’s features.

Wearing her usual, welcoming smile, [Y/N] was growing closer to the stand. Her ankle boots clacked softly along the dirt path. The skirt she wore was flowing with the gentle breeze that lightly blew her hair as well. She wore a thin, knitted sweater, which she kept tucked into the waistline of her shirt. Her sleeves were littered with small patches of flowers and birds that she had stitched in herself, though they were cast in a soft shadow from the sunhat that adorned her head.

Bela’s heart hammered against her ribs as her now unsteady gaze studied [Y/N]’s face: The way her delicate eyes slightly squeezed themselves shut in glee, her brows lifting and furrowing together just barely to make her nose scrunch up a bit. Her soft lips stretched upwards into a wide smile as she waved towards one of her neighbors down the path. Finally, her eyes fluttered open, and the eyes that Bela often found herself unknowingly gazing into were now peering up at her through her lashes.

She wasn’t sure if her mind was playing tricks on her, but Bela could’ve sworn [Y/N]’s smile only grew wider once they finally made eye contact with one another. “Lady Bela!” She yelled as she quickened her pace. After a moment of lightly jogging, [Y/N] stood in front of Bela, who was now trembling and screaming at herself internally to clear her throat and regain her composure. “It’s so nice to see you again!” Her eyes scanned down to find the note jittering in the flustered woman’s grasp.

“Is…everything okay?” Her expression, carefree and excited just moments ago, was now lightly dampened to appear concerned. Oh, how Bela wanted to crush that feeling. She could feel her heart throbbing uncomfortably in her chest, though she managed to squeak out a quiet, “Yes.”

[Y/N] stepped a bit closer, her hand lifting and gently planting itself on Bela’s, which jerked slightly at the contact. “It wasn’t because of my note, was it? Oh, I shouldn’t have been so weird about it. I-I’m sorry–” “No!” It was [Y/N] who jumped from surprise that time, though Bela seemed equally, if not more, shocked by her own reaction. “Ah, I mean,” she mentally slapped herself for stammering, quickly clearing her throat and running her free hand down her face.

“I-I didn’t mean to yell, I apologize. But no, it wasn’t your note, I promise. Something’s just,” she stopped herself, doing her best to ignore the silent snickering from the Duke. With a shake of her head, she managed to finally smile. “Nothing’s wrong.” [Y/N]’s head tilted a bit as she studied her expression, which she was sure was pathetic: she could feel her lip quivering, though [Y/N] didn’t comment on it. “Alright,” she mumbled cautiously.

“Anyway, are you about to head back home?” A spark zapped itself through Bela’s veins, the crimson color once again rushing to her face. “Uh,” she started, struggling horrendously to maintain eye contact.

“No, not quite yet, I,” she glanced up at the Duke, who nodded. “I actually just got here myself. I barely finished reading your note before I saw you. M-My sisters will probably be looking around for a while though, so I’ll have to find a way to occupy myself until they’re ready to leave.” [Y/N] nodded, offering that damned smile Bela couldn’t seem to get enough of. “Why–um–why do you ask?” “Oh, I was just curious. I wasn’t sure if your sisters were here with you today or not,” came [Y/N]’s reply.

A soft sigh slipped past Bela’s lips. It wasn’t until [Y/N]’s hand lifted upwards and towards her torso that she realized it was still resting on her own. She froze, though quickly felt her tensed muscles relax once she realized [Y/N] had only reached forward to slip the book out from under her arm. “Ah, I see you got the book I ordered! Did you read the summary yet? What did you think?” The same fuzzy feeling that Bela often felt making itself known in her chest was returning upon seeing how passionate [Y/N] was about the book.

The fact that she had hand-picked the book with only her interest in mind, and used her own money to pay for it, made Bela feel so special. She realized something after a moment.

“Oh, um, speaking of the book, I’d like to pay you back for it.” “Oh, you don’t have to do that!” “I-I feel like I should. I mean, I know you and the other villagers don’t have much money, and I wouldn’t want you to go broke over,” she halted, a horrified look crossing her features, “this…” Quickly, she waved her hands dismissively in front of her, desperately trying to take back her words. “N-No, wait, that’s not what I meant! Oh god, I just meant that–” An amused giggle interrupted her spewing of words. She hid her reddened face in her hands with a groan as [Y/N] seemingly laughed at her misery.

Her fingers parted to look through once a light, warm hand gently rubbed her arm. “It’s okay, I know what you were trying to say, you dork.”

Had anyone else been the one to call her that, they would’ve been ripped apart relentlessly. Hearing it come from the girl she found herself pining for, however, made it seem much more lighthearted, and more of a compliment than anything. She grinned sheepishly, letting her hands slip from her face and weave themselves together anxiously in front of her torso. “I’m glad,” was all she could say.

“But seriously, you don’t have to pay me back for it. The Duke and I worked out a bit of a deal,” [Y/N] reassured, turning her head slightly to nod to the man still glancing at them. “Oh? And what’s that?” A sudden, familiar voice questioned. Bela growled once her youngest sister made her presence known. Daniela slid to stand beside her and [Y/N], whose face lit up once again. “Dani, hey!” Her hand slid from Bela’s arm, making her frown, allowing her to throw her arms around the youngest Dimitrescu and pull her into a tight embrace.

Daniela laughed warmly and hugged her back. She eventually stepped away once she saw how hurt Bela seemed. “What deal did you work out with him, hm?” She asked, changing the tone.

“Oh, I just agreed to help him deliver most of his packages in return for a discount on the book,” [Y/N] explained. “Yes, and quite a delivery-gal she is! She must’ve taken care of over half of my stock within a day,” the Duke added. “Quite efficient.”

[Y/N] laughed bashfully, scratching at the back of her neck. “Well, I really did just want the discount, but it was also nice to help out! I got to talk to a few of my friends that I hadn’t spoken with in a while. It was a win-win situation.” Bela smiled softly at her, though she wasn’t enjoying [Y/N]’s attention being torn away from her so much. How she wished she could take her far away to a calm, secluded place where they only had each other. It was selfish, and she was aware of that, but it was so hard for her to talk to [Y/N]. And now that she finally had a relatively steady conversation going, more or less, the Duke and her own sister were stealing that from her.

Already, she could feel herself crumbling away, a feeling she was far too familiar with. She felt her arms slide up to hold herself as she watched the woman she loved seem so much happier with anyone but her. She knew it was just her insecurities eating away at her confidence and any sense of logic, but because she hadn’t known the feeling in that situation well enough, she wasn’t sure how to fight it off or ignore it.

As if the world hadn’t already been cruel enough to her sensitivity, Cassandra flew over and struck up a conversation as well.

She knew that even if she had a chance of “courting” this girl and bringing her into her home, she’d have to adjust to the fact her sisters would also be there to talk with her. The overwhelming feeling of needing to be perfect, however–something that seemed to be built into her mindset–was diminishing the logical side of things. Her mind was telling her that [Y/N] wasn’t devoting her attention solely to her because she wasn’t good enough–she wasn’t perfect enough.

Maybe if she seemed more confident and casual, then maybe, just maybe, [Y/N] would seem as interested in her as she was–maybe the feeling would be mutual. Her mind started to wander and race, rendering her hearing useless as she tuned the rest of the world out.

At length, a hand, the same hand that had grounded her into reality just moments ago, returned to her arm. She blinked once, twice, and finally a third before her focus returned. The Duke, Daniela, Cassandra, and [Y/N] were all staring at her now, and even though Cassandra always tried to seem harsh, she was visibly concerned.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

[Y/N]’s hand drove itself upwards and turned, allowing the back of her knuckles to gently come into contact with Bela’s forehead. “Are you sick? Can…” She turned to Daniela and Cassandra. “Can you even get sick?”

Bela cleared her throat, fighting to stay in the present as she took [Y/N]’s hand into her own before brushing it off of her clammy skin. “I’m fine, I promise.” Before the others had a chance to press her further, she felt her legs swarming into the flies that made up her being, allowing her to lift her weight up off the ground. “I have to go.”

With that, she raced desperately back towards the castle, her lungs tightening to a painful degree and her hand shaking harshly as she struggled to keep a grip on the note she hadn’t even realized she was still in possession of.

“Oh gosh,” Daniela murmured. Concerned, [Y/N] turned to Cassandra and Daniela, only to find them staring off at where Bela had disappeared. After a long moment, they glanced at each other, mirroring expressions of guilt and worry. “Guys?” They finally turned to her, and their faces shifted to slight sorrow. “Is she okay?”

Weakly, Daniela smiled and stepped in front of her, gently squeezing her shoulder before nodding to Cassandra, who reciprocated the motion. “She’ll…be okay. We’ll talk to you later, alright?” [Y/N] couldn’t even respond before the two women in front of her flew off, carrying the books that Bela had left behind. She was silent, her stomach turning with the fear that she had done something wrong. With great difficulty, she swallowed the lump in her throat and clutched at her knitted sweater, anxiously looking towards the Duke for an answer.

He could only muster a shrug with a look of pure sympathy, unsure how to lighten the mood.

“Bela!” Daniela hollered out as she shoved the parlor doors open. “Bela, where’d you go?” She was well aware her eldest sister could hear her with ease, but she also knew she likely wasn’t going to get a response. There had only been a few times she had gotten this upset, and she always seemed to find a different place to hide away in, clearly not wanting to be found until she had gathered herself.

“Dani, maybe we should just give her some space this time,” Cassandra mumbled uncharacteristically. Shaking her head stubbornly, Daniela turned to her, looking at her as if she were crazy. “We can’t do that, Cass. You’ve seen how she gets when she gets too far into her own head. We have to help her snap out of it one way or another. Do you really want to see her secluding herself this way and hurting herself even more?” Cassandra could only sigh as she thought to herself. “You know I don’t, but what if she just needs to figure this out for herself?”

“Cass, do you really think she can figure something like this out in her state? You saw her back in the village: it looked like she couldn’t even hear or see anyone around her until someone spoke to her.” She sucked in a steadying breath. “And if you won’t try to help her with me, then I’ll find a way to cheer her up on my own.” Halfway through her sentence, Daniela had flown up above the cold, slick tile beneath her, and as she let out her final phrase, she dashed up the stairs to begin her search for Bela.

“Daniela, wait!” Cassandra called out after her. It was clear she wasn’t going to get through to her younger sister either way, especially with how stubborn she was with these kinds of situations. She glanced down at the ground beneath her and caught her own reflection in the polished stone. Grumbling, she found herself flying after Daniela up the stairs. “Goddammit, Dani, you’d better know what you’re doing.”

Bela knew it was only a matter of time before her sisters found her. At that moment, however, she didn’t care. The sheer panic and depression was weighing heavy upon her shoulders as she curled even further into herself. She had tucked herself away in the corner of one of the rooms just above the ballroom, wriggling herself uncomfortably in between the tight space that rested in the middle of the Labyrinth structure and the wall. She couldn’t help the weeping that wracked throughout her body.

She knew how ridiculous it was to be sobbing over something so small, but her insecurities were a demon in her mind that only seemed to grow larger with each conversation she shared with [Y/N].

Her fingers dug into the fabric of her cloak’s hood, yanking it harshly over her head to shield her face from the outside world. She could feel her entire body trembling, making it hard to breathe or think properly. Why was she so selfish? [Y/N] had every right to talk to others. After all, they weren’t together.

They never would be.

Her heart stopped beating momentarily as two sets of footsteps landed harshly in front of her. She gasped roughly, her breathing ragged as she lifted her hood up to peer at the intruders: it was none other than her two sisters, Daniela and Cassandra. She tried so desperately to scream at them for startling her so badly, but her mouth refused to form the words.

“Dani, you can’t just rush in on her like that!” Cassandra hollered. She glanced over at Bela, whose eyes were filled with pure terror. She felt herself gasp softly before tugging Daniela to the side and lowering her voice to a whisper. “Give her some space. She’s having a panic attack.” Daniela shifted her body to turn and peer at Bela from over her shoulder, finding the blonde trembling unbelievably harshly, her breathing coming out in harsh rasps.

“Shit, what do we do?” Cassandra sighed, slowly turning around to face Bela. “Just…stay here and don’t do anything stupid. I know how to deal with this.” “You do? How?” “That’s not important. Just don’t get too close to her.” “Fine, but we’re having a talk later on.”

Slowly, Cassandra trudged to plant herself a reasonable distance away from her sister, who still had tears pouring across her cheeks like rivers. She crouched down and sat on the floorboards that creaked softly underneath her. “Bela,” she started, her tone almost at a whisper. “Can you hear me?” Bela’s eyes shot over to her, seemingly landing on her but not finding the source. Her eyes flickered in a panicked manner as if she were reading a script right in front of her, yet so far into the distance as well. A subtle nod was her answer after a moment.

“I want you to try to breathe with me, okay? Just three deep breaths, that’s it. Can you do that?”

Again, a small, delayed nod was her response.

Cassandra took in her first deep breath, making sure she did so loud enough for Bela to hear. Although she struggled and her breath was staggered, Bela managed to repeat what her sister did. “Good, just two more,” Cassandra whispered.

She sucked in another breath, watching as her older sister mimicked her actions. She made sure to hold her breath for a second before letting it out just as slowly. “You’re doing great. One more, okay?” She could see Bela’s hazy eyes slowly starting to clear.

Breathe in.

Hold it.

Breathe out.

Finally, Bela blinked normally, her breathing somewhat back to where it was when she had been calm. “Good. I want you to focus on your breathing for a moment. Try to do it how we just did, alright?” She nodded, this time almost immediately. One of her hands, still clutching her hood, dropped down to her chest, allowing herself to feel it rising and falling with each breath. Finally, she could feel the tingling sensation in her limbs starting to subside ever-so-slightly.

“May I move closer?” Cassandra questioned cautiously.

Again, Bela nodded, still unable to speak.

Cassandra inched towards her slowly, making sure Bela knew she could tell her when to stop if she still needed some space. “Can you see me?” Bela nodded. “Good.” Surprisingly, Cassandra was able to sit herself down directly in front of her sister without much of a reaction. “Okay, let’s take things slow. Let me know if I need to move away,” she instructed softly. “What do you hear?” Bela seemed to focus for the first time in what felt like hours, straining her ears to hear past the ringing. “Your voice. You and Daniela’s heartbeat. T-The birds outside the window.” “Good job. Can you tell me what you can see?”

“Y-You and Dani, a-and my…my,” her eyes trailed down, a small folded sheet of paper catching her attention. Almost instantly, images flashed through her mind and her breathing started to quicken again. “Okay, okay,” Cassandra did her best to remain calm so as to not freak out her sister even more. “Hey, just look at me, alright? Everything’s okay.” She leaned forward, attempting to reach out and grab the note, but Bela was quick to shove her backwards. “Don’t touch it!”

Cassandra obliged, holding her hands up in surrender. “I won’t touch it, I promise. See? I’ll move away a bit.” She scooted backwards to increase the distance between her and Bela once again. “Let’s move on from that, alright? What do you smell?”

Bela looked at her, her eyes full of skepticism and a mix of fear and sorrow. She hesitantly managed to take in another deep breath, the scents around her greeting her. “I can smell the dust from the shelves,” she mumbled, her nose scrunching up. Daniela stepped forward slowly and sat next to Cassandra. “I guess we’ll have to make sure the maids aren’t slacking off again,” she joked in an equally soft tone. A gentle smile finally painted Bela’s lips in amusement. “I-I…suppose so.”

“What can you taste?” Bela grimaced once more. “My tears.” Daniela frowned, but looked towards Cassandra, who nodded. The two of them carefully moved closer, both holding out a hand. Shakily, Bela’s hands lifted themselves and rested on top of her sisters’. “What can you feel?” Daniela asked. Bela’s fingers stretched out far enough to wrap themselves around her sisters’ hands, squeezing them gently.

“The two of you. I can feel your hands in mine.”

Cassandra and Daniela both sighed from relief when they heard their eldest sister finally let out a small laugh. “Can you take three more deep breaths for me?” Bela nodded, and both of her sisters joined in on her breathing. After the third, they smiled fondly at each other.

“Th-Thank you. Both of you.” “You don’t have to thank us. You’re our sister, silly. We love you.” Daniela moved forward and pulled her sister into a hug. Cassandra almost scolded her for it, but relaxed when she saw that Bela didn’t mind. She was eventually pulled into the embrace herself, though she didn’t make a fuss this time. They stayed that way until Bela finally felt calm enough to lean back.

With a sniffle, the blonde glanced down and picked up the note from her lap. “I suppose I should go apologize to [Y/N] for acting so…weird.” “Nope,” Daniela quipped, standing and offering her hand to help her sister stand. “Nuh uh, not until we know you’re calm enough. Think about what you wanna say before you go embarrass yourself. Like usual.” Cassandra scowled and elbowed her sister in the arm, making her wince but laugh. Bela laughed with her and took her hand, letting herself be pulled up onto her feet. “You’re right about thinking it through, though. Why don’t you write down what you wanna say so you can kind of rehearse it?” Cassandra offered, watching with a grimace as Daniela’s eyes lit up.

“Ooh, that’s a lovely idea! Oh, you should write her a letter! I mean, she already wrote one for you, even though it was just about a book, but still!” “Dani, that’s–” The brunette thought for a moment. “That’s actually not a bad idea. Man, I didn’t know you could actually have a good idea in that tiny brain of yours,” she mocked, ruffling the redhead’s hair. “Hey! That’s not true! I’m plenty smart, right Bela?”

Bela looked between them before laughing. Cassandra snickered at her reaction as Daniela pouted, though she looked confused once her oldest sister’s hand planted itself gently atop her head. “Yes, you’re a bright girl, Dani. Especially when it comes to romance.”

She looked up, freezing when she saw how shocked her sisters looked. “Uh…” Daniela squealed again, bouncing up and down on her toes as she hugged Bela. “Romance? Ah, you mean you’re gonna write a letter of confession?” For the first time since the whole ordeal, Bela’s face went beet red. “N-No, I was just–! Ugh, Cass, a little help here?” There was no response. “Cass…?” She looked up to see her sister faking a tear. “Oh, they grow up so fast,” she said teasingly. “Wh–I’m older than both of you!” “Hey, that’s not official! Mother Miranda never said who was the oldest!”

Cassandra finally laughed, her expression shifting to one of sincerity. “No, but in all seriousness, Bela, I don’t think writing her a letter to confess is a bad idea at all. I mean, as long as you hand it to her and actually wait for her response instead of flying away like a wimpy man-thing from one of Dani’s novels.” “Hey!” Bela also had a look of offense written on her features, though it was clear that hers was fake. “How dare you compare me to a man-thing from Daniela’s cheesy romance novels?”

“Bela, not you too!”

A soft, almost silent sound of a pencil furiously scribbling against paper was the only sound that could be heard from Bela’s bedroom. For the past few hours, after eating a healthy dinner and spending time with her family, Bela finally had a clear mind. As the rest of her family headed off to bed, she stayed awake at the study in her room, working on writing the perfect letter of confession to hopefully give to [Y/N] before the weather got too harsh again. There were crumpled up pieces of paper strewn about the desktop and the floor surrounding her, though she could feel the growing number of them would come to a halt soon.

She could sense that she was so close to writing the perfect letter. At first, she had tried to write a longer note, though Cassandra’s sarcastic remarks about turning into a cliche, smitten poet put an end to those drafts. She tried making it as short as possible, but Daniela’s whining about it not being emotional or expressive enough had her tossing those to the side as well. She wasn’t sure how to properly write a letter in this form, it just wasn’t her. She was never good with expressing any emotion other than anger towards outsiders. Daniela was the expert when it came to flirting and being romantic about different gestures. That’s why she had her youngest sister help her out the most.

Cassandra, although she didn’t understand why she was so adamant about the letter being perfect, understood that it meant a lot to her sister that everything went smoothly, even if her confession was rejected. She put it upon herself to pretty up the garden, more specifically Bela’s favorite spot to read and just think to herself. It surprised her most of all that she hardly asked the maids to help her tidy things up, though she figured it was just because she wanted it to look perfect for her sister.

A swift knock sounded from the door, making Bela jump in her seat. “Come in,” she called out after recognizing the pattern of the knock. Daniela pushed the door open and strolled inside, Cassandra trailing after her. “How’s it coming along?” The youngest asked as she leaned against the desk. Bela looked up, ready to answer, but instead found herself snickering at Cassandra, who scowled.

“Cass, what on earth did you do? You’re covered in flowers and grass and dirt,” she questioned with a laugh. Cassandra’s eyebrows raised and she frantically started picking off stray petals and twigs that peppered her cloak. “Dani! Why didn’t you say anything?” Daniela laughed as well, making her sister fume. “I’m sorry, you just look so funny like that! I wanted Bela to see.”

“Ugh, I hate you both. But if you must know, I was out in the garden making sure your favorite spot looks nice enough for when you bring [Y/N] here to confess.” Bela blushed, the grip on her pencil tightening. “Wait, really? I…” She looked down at the letter Daniela had been helping her write the past few hours. “I really can’t thank the two of you enough. I never expected either of you to care this much about me confessing to her.”

“Hey, we’re your sisters!” Daniela chirped. “We want to see you happy! Plus, [Y/N] is really cool. Having her as a sister-in-law sounds amazing!” Cassandra smirked. “Yeah, she could listen to your banter about your stories in my place.” Daniela sneered playfully at her before looking back down at Bela. “Ah, I think you two are putting too much faith into this. There’s still the possibility that she’ll reject me after all.” “Who, [Y/N]? Nah, I can’t see her doing that. She seems to really like you,” Daniela reassured. Cassandra hummed and nodded in agreement.

“Well, yeah, but after that whole…incident in the village?” “Nuh uh uh, you’re getting in your own head again. Don’t do that. Just try to imagine everything going perfectly! I don’t think [Y/N] is–no, actually, I know she’s not the type to hold something like that against you. She was actually really, really concerned when you ran off. Well, flew off, but–” “Dani, stay on one point, oh my god.” Bela laughed at Cassandra’s remark.

“I guess you’re right.”

“‘Course I am! Now, how’s the letter coming along?” Bela sighed, signing her name at the bottom quickly. “Ooh, bold move,” Daniela murmured. “Daniela, she’s going to be standing directly in front of her when she hands it to her. I don’t see how that’s bold.”

Cassandra walked towards the desk, leaning over to be eye-level with her eldest sister, who looked nervous. “Oh, and Dani and I will be nearby to make sure you don’t fly off before she can tell you how she feels. You aren’t leaving this time.” Bela forced a smile, not wanting to comment on how creepy what her sister had just said sounded. “Right, well…what do you think?” She picked up her letter, blowing off the eraser shavings before handing it back to her youngest sister, who skimmed over it rather quickly. She was met with a squeal.

“Oh, this is so romantic! And you took my suggestion about adding the figurative language! She’s going to love this, I just know it!” Bela beamed at her sister’s reaction, pleased with what she had managed to write. “But you aren’t going to leave it in pencil, are you?” “Oh, no, I was going to go over it again with one of my pens before I get some sleep. That way it’ll have time to dry so I can erase the pencil markings underneath.” “Ah, smart.”

Daniela hummed, tilting her head as she glanced over the letter again. Bela felt her confidence falter at this, making her nervously ask what was wrong. “Oh, nothing’s wrong, I just think you could…spruce it up a bit, y’know?” She gasped, reaching towards one of the pens on the desk. “I know! You could add hearts around the edges like she did with hers!”

Bela’s face went red and she snatched the sheet of paper back before any further markings could be made. “Dani, I’m not–wait, how did you know she did that?” Daniela appeared nervous now, scratching her cheek anxiously. “Ah, well, I might’ve slipped it from your pocket while we were eating and then read it while I was in the library.” “Dani!” “I’m sorry! I just couldn’t help myself.”

Frantically, Bela searched her pockets for the note, only for her youngest sister to laugh shyly and pull it out from her own. With a relieved sigh, Bela snatched it from her hand and cradled it against her chest. “God, I hope this goes well.”

“It will! You just have to put more faith in [Y/N]! And, of course, my expertise in romance,” Daniela cooed while playfully wiggling her eyebrows. Bela couldn’t help but laugh, looking back towards the letter she had written once again resting on the desk. Hesitantly, she took a pen from its resting spot in her small metal bin and dipped it in ink. With a shaky hand, she brought the tip of the pen to land just beside her signature, slowly drawing a single heart.

It may not have been what Daniela was wanting her to do, but it was hers. It was Bela’s heart now printed on the letter she had written out of love.

Morning came sooner than Bela had wanted. The bright sunlight crept through the blinds shielding her window, caressing her face and stirring her awake. She groaned and slowly sat up, staring down silently as she watched the covers fall, internally hoping her sisters had done their part for the day already. They had told her they’d head into the village before she woke up to let [Y/N] know Bela had requested to see her in the afternoon. If they had, then she only had a few hours to prepare.

First, she went out to the garden to make sure everything was neat and clean. She was surprised to see how much more beautiful Cassandra had made it seem than before. The pearly white lattice archway that led to her most cherished spot had been washed, removing all of the mud and stray cobwebs. A series of different roses found throughout the garden now wrapped themselves nicely around the wooden frame, helping it appear more natural. Past the archway, the soft, vibrantly green grass had been neatly trimmed. The weeds that had shoved themselves in between the stones that encircled her favorite tree had been removed, and the bench nearby had been polished and thoroughly cleaned.

Secondly, she headed back upstairs to make sure the ink had dried from the night before. She was relieved to find that it had, and she quickly but gently erased the pencil markings beneath the bold strokes. Daniela had left a pristine envelope next to it with a wax stamp print in the shape of a heart. Bela carefully folded the sheet of paper and tucked it into the envelope, hesitantly melting enough wax to use the stamp and seal it shut.

Finally, she made sure she looked her best. She rummaged throughout the kitchen, much to the confusion of the maids, and fixed herself a healthier alternative to what they had prepared for breakfast. She ate it quickly before heading back upstairs.

She showered swiftly, spraying on her favorite perfume and brushing her teeth and hair. Before applying her makeup, she headed to her wardrobe to search for something to wear. Instead of opening the door to find her different assortments of clothing, she found every shirt, skirt, and pair of pants shoved to one side. All but one set–a pair of black, loose-fitted slacks, a matching pair of flats, and a striking red button-up shirt. On top of the folded pants and underneath the shoes, there was a small, square piece of paper. As Bela lifted it from the shelf, a hair clip with a plastic daisy fell to the floor. Confused, Bela skimmed over the note. Sure enough, this was Daniela’s doing.

Hey, sis! Let me explain why I did this before you come after me. [Y/N]’s only ever seen you in dark clothing, so I thought that would be a nice thing to keep. That way things wouldn’t seem so unnatural! But, I also know how much you love daisies, so I left a hair clip I found of one. I hope you’ll like it. I really think [Y/N] will.

-Your fav sister

Although she was slightly annoyed at how Daniela had chosen her outfit for such an important day, Bela couldn’t help the wide grin that made its way across her lips. Her sister had put so much effort into making sure today was perfect–both of them had. She couldn’t be more grateful for her sisters.

She gently placed the small note on her desk before taking the set of clothes into the bathroom with her to change. Once she was fully dressed, she managed to apply her makeup before someone knocked at the door. “Who is it?” “It’s Cass. Daniela said I should help you with your hair? I don’t know why.” Bela giggled and opened the door. “Uh, probably because you’re the best at braiding and styling things? If you weren’t, the garden wouldn’t look nearly as perfect as it does.”

Cassandra’s face reddened a bit at the sudden compliment, unable to bite back her smile. “Well, either way, we should hurry. [Y/N] should be here in about an hour, and you still need to rehearse what you’re going to say when she gets here.”

Bela nodded, stepping out of the bathroom after grabbing her hairbrush and a few hair ties. She and Cassandra sauntered over to her bed, where she sat on the floor so it’d be easier for her sister. After being handed the brush, Cassandra got to work, quickly weaving Bela’s blonde strands into two neat braids that pulled back a portion of her hair, stretching around the crown of her head. She pulled the remaining hair into a bun, insisting that there aren’t too many loose strands or stray hairs. Finally, she stood and moved to crouch in front of Bela to brush her bangs a bit so they framed her face nicely.

She stepped back, seemingly proud of her work. “There we go,” she declared with a sigh. Bela stood, heading over to the bathroom once more to glance at herself in the reflection. Her eyebrows raised in surprise at how beautiful she looked. Cassandra stepped in and stood beside her, smiling at her reassuringly. The daisy hair clip caught her eye. She picked it up and shook her head with a soft laugh. “Dani, huh?” Bela smiled anxiously. “Yeah, she’s also the one who chose my outfit.”

Cassandra quickly looked over her attire, impressed. “Well, she was right to choose this one. It really suits you.” She stepped forward and slid the clip against Bela’s hair, snapping it gently into place to help reveal more of her face. The two then turned back to the mirror, and Cassandra patted her sister on the shoulder. “You look amazing. I’m sure [Y/N] will agree.”

Trembling once again with fear, Bela did her best to steady her breathing as she waited patiently in the garden. A quick glance up towards the most visible window let her see both of her sisters gazing down at her with comforting smiles, both giving a thumbs up. She smiled, then let her head lean back down to stare at the envelope she held tightly against her chest.

“Bela?”

She jumped immediately. The nerves she had thought were finally settling spiked up again, making her yelp. She took in a deep breath and forced herself to regain her composure before she turned around. Once laying eyes on [Y/N], however, her ability to seem calm and collected faltered. Her breath stuttered in her throat, her face entirely red once again. “[Y/N], holy…you look,” She didn’t want to simply say “beautiful,” it seemed far too vague. She couldn’t quite think of the right word to describe how [Y/N] looked. Would beautiful have to do?

“You look so beautiful,” she finally mumbled as her eyes trailed down to study her outfit. Daniela must’ve chosen her outfit for her as well, seeing as how it had the same color scheme. She wore a black skirt with matching one-inch heels, and a red keyhole blouse, though the color was much more muted. Her hair was down like usual, though it was curled and brushed out to give it a wavy effect. Her face turned a shade of pink as Bela’s words, which complimented the color of her shirt.

“Oh, th-thank you. Daniela said you’d like this outfit, so…” Bela hummed to herself. Of course her sister was the one who chose it–it would’ve been an interesting coincidence if they had separately chosen the same pattern. She smiled.

“It looks incredible on you,” was her soft reply. [Y/N] beamed up at her and shifted her hands to find each other behind her, allowing her to fidget with them. “You look incredible as well.” The two of them smiled at each other, though they quickly looked away sheepishly. A tap at the window above caught Bela’s attention. She glanced up and watched as her sisters motioned for her to continue. Forcing herself to draw in a shaky breath, she cleared her throat and nodded, managing to look back at [Y/N], who hadn’t seemed to notice anything.

She stepped forward, catching [Y/N]’s attention. “So, Daniela said you really wanted to tell me something,” the woman said, almost as if she was asking. Bela nodded and glanced down at the envelope. Before she could let herself back down, she felt her arms thrust forward to hold it out. [Y/N] jumped at the sudden motion, but delicately slipped the offered envelope from the blonde’s trembling hands. She flipped it over, her face turning a darker shade of red as she spotted the heart-shaped stamp.

“I-I’m sure you could tell,” Bela started, wrestling with herself to keep her voice steady, “but I’m not exactly the best at expressing my feelings through verbal words, so…I-I had Dani help me write them down instead. And that’s, um…that’s what’s in this envelope.”

Again, if it were possible, [Y/N]’s face burned brighter, now matching the shade of red that painted Bela’s button-up shirt. She gulped and flimsily slid her fingernail underneath the stamp to scratch it from the thin surface, watching as it popped upwards enough for her to lift the top. She inhaled nervously and pulled the folded sheet of paper from the envelope, which she then looked around for a place to put it down. Bela held her hand out. “I can hold that for you,” she whispered.

[Y/N] nodded and handed it to her. “O-Oh, thank you,” she replied just as quietly. She tugged at the paper to unfold it, her eyes scanning over the finely printed writing that Bela had spent so much time forging.

My dearest [Y/N],

I hope this letter isn’t too forward. I’ve been wanting to express my feelings to you for so long now, ever since we first met three years ago. Do you remember that day? My sisters had bombarded you with questions after seeing us speak to one another about a book the Duke had been selling. I remember your reaction then: you were so timid around them. I can still see it in my mind how red your face had gotten as you tried to keep up with Daniela’s enthused chatter. You looked breathtaking then, just as you still do. Your smile as you laughed nervously is still as charming as it is now. And your eyes, the same ones I’ve found myself dreaming about for countless nights, secretly praying that they’d find my own gaze each time I spotted you in the village.

At first, I was too worried that if I said anything too soon, it would ruin how kindly you spoke to me–that you’d find me strange and never speak to me again. I wanted to give things time to ensure this wasn’t going to be a short-lived infatuation. I can say now that it wasn’t. I still adore you, and I would dare to say I do even more than before. You caught my attention from the moment I saw you scanning through the Duke’s selection of stories.

I may be too bold with this, but I wish I could wake up to those stunning eyes of yours every morning. There’s something in your gaze each time that shows me you don’t view me like most of the other villagers do–like a monster. You see me as a human, and I always find myself falling into a trance when you so much as glance in my direction with that same look of kindness in your eyes. I love everything about you, and although this once again may be too bold, I want you to know that I love you.

I love you inside and out. Words can’t even begin to express the way I feel about you, and if they can, then I suppose I just haven’t found them yet. I don’t expect you to return these feelings, especially considering how awkward I always am around you, but I couldn’t keep it inside of myself any longer. I want you to know how I view you and how I feel about you.

I love you, I truly do.

Forever yours,

Bela Dimitrescu 🖤

[Y/N] watched as a tear slipped from her eye and dripped onto the paper. Her hands shook as she brought the backs of them up to wipe her eyes, sniffling and clearing her throat. Bela, now alarmed at her reaction, stepped forward and gently gripped the woman’s wrists, pulling them down to look her in the eye–the same eyes she had expressed her adoration of in the letter. “Oh, what’s wrong? Was it what the letter said? I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have–” “No, no, it’s not that,” [Y/N] interrupted with a giggle. “I mean, it is, but not in a bad way. Your letter was just…so sweet. I-I wasn’t expecting it is all.” She sniffled again, bringing the paper back up to gaze at it with a warm smile.

Bela blushed, glancing down at the letter briefly before letting her focus shift back up to the weeping girl’s face. Her hands slowly moved to hold the girl’s shoulders. “Well, what I said was true. I really do love you, [Y/N]. I’m not sure how you feel about me, but I just had to let you know how I feel about you.”

Again, [Y/N] laughed.

“I didn’t take you as the romantic type, Bela. I always got that vibe from Daniela.” Bela couldn’t help but chuckle with her. She let her hands slide down [Y/N]’s arms, though they stopped at her wrists. She looked up at her as if to ask if it was okay, and when she received a nod accompanied with a loving grin, she let her hands hold [Y/N]’s the way she had been craving to do for years. She couldn’t see it, but her lips had stretched out to a wide smile.

After giving it a moment to kick in, Bela silently cleared her throat and gave [Y/N]’s hands a soft squeeze. “I don’t know how else to ask without it sounding desperate, so I suppose I should just ask right out. Do you feel the same way about me?”

Once again, [Y/N] giggled. “I don’t think it sounds desperate at all. I figured my feelings would’ve been obvious though.” She finally lifted her head enough to gaze into Bela’s eyes like she always did, though there was pure admiration in her steady stare.

“Yes, I love you too, Bela.”

Bela’s breath hitched, tears finally springing free from her eyes. Just as it had yesterday, her heart hammered against her ribs and began to throb. As she let out a small sob, [Y/N] stepped even closer, her soft, warm arms wrapping themselves around her torso and pulling her into a comforting hug. Bela couldn’t help but return the embrace tightly, the desperation she had been showing withering away, showing that her patience had paid off.

“I love you so much,” was all she could whisper before letting the rest of her built up tears fall. “I love you too, Bela. I really do.”

The two stood there, rocking each other back and forth for what felt like hours before they finally pulled back. [Y/N]’s arm slid down to let her offer her hand to hold. Still smiling as widely as before, Bela took her hand into her own, almost whimpering as their fingers interlaced with one another. With a small laugh, [Y/N] tugged her away from the garden and up to the parlor’s entrance, where they both pushed the doors open and headed inside.

Just as she had imagined, Daniela and Cassandra were quick to greet the two. Daniela was bouncing up and down excitedly as she asked all kinds of questions, while Cassandra could only stand there with a proud grin on her lips. She patted Bela on the shoulder while [Y/N] was distracted trying to answer all of the questions the youngest sister had. “I’m proud of you. You didn’t back down this time. And it seems like it paid off, huh?”

Bela glanced over at [Y/N], who was smiling wide enough for her nose to scrunch up, the blush evident on her features as she laughed. Her brows were furrowed slightly, just like they had done the day before. The blonde hummed and beamed just as brightly, turning back to Cassandra.

“Yeah, it really did.”

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