#in the same way i tear up when i see a car elegantly driving through beautiful mountains in car commercials . sometiems

[whimsicallyreading]

You Don’t Even Go Here

Day Two for Rowaelin Month

A college AU

~

Aelin grins mischievously as she walks up the stairs of the men's dorm at Terresan University. The teal-blue waffle iron clutched under her arm.

Aedion didn't really need it. It had been on the fifty-percent-off rack at the supermarket, and he'd simply thrown it in the cart for good measure. Yet, when Aelin saw the box for it laying the hall, she'd seen opportunity.

It had hit her harder than she'd thought. Aedion leaving. They'd been raised like siblings but grew up something closer to best friends. It wasn't fair that he was nearly three years older and ready to leave when she wasn't prepared for him to go.

Aelin had cried the whole car ride home. Then when they finally got back to the house, she'd called him right away. He could hear how teary she was and happily obliged her call. Narrating his actions as he went about setting up his dorm room. He teased her about missing him, but she could tell that he missed her too.

So, armed with an excuse to visit him, Aelin made the hour-long drive to visit her cousin.

Aelin was halfway up the stairs but not paying too much attention to her surroundings. She was too busy repeating Aedion's room number over in her head because no matter how many times she checked her phone, it just wouldn't stick in her head. Maybe if she'd focused a little more on the things happening around her, she wouldn't have crashed into a half-naked man.

A solid and calloused hand darts out and grips her shoulder before she can go tumbling down the stairs. Its twin desperately clutching the towel wrapped around his waist.

Aelin looks up apologetically, and her jaw nearly falls to the floor. His white hair was still damp from the shower and swooped over the top of his head, and his biceps were too large for Aelin to wrap both hands around. An intricate tattoo coils elegantly from a cheekbone and down the length of his body.

He was a man indeed. Nothing like Chaol or Dorian or any of her junior friends. This was a new breed of man. The apex kind. Aelin is pretty sure she looks like a deer in the headlights, and she's too busy ogling him to understand the words he'd been repeating to her.

"Are you okay?" His eyebrows are furrowed as if he's afraid he'd literally struck her stupid. Aelin felt that wasn't far from the truth.

"Yes, sorry," she apologizes as she steps back, suddenly very aware of how in his personal space she was. "I wasn't paying attention. You just caught me by surprise."

Aelin was definitely panicking. Where was her swagger when she needed it most? Why would it choose now to abandon her?

By some miracle, he doesn't seem off-put by her awkwardness. In fact, a smile curls the edges of his lips, revealing a set of dimples that made her heart stumble.

Gods he had dimples.

"No, I ran into you. It's my fault. My name is Rowan.”

He holds out a hand, and Aelin shakes it clumsily. "I'm Aelin."

"Aelin." She loves the way her name rolls off his tongue. "I haven't seen you around before. Are you a freshman?"

Oh no. Aelin's eyes widen, but she recovers swiftly and smooths her features out. Rowan thinks she's a student. Not some crazy high schooler too emotionally dependent on her cousin.

"I'm actually a junior," Aelin laughs at his perplexed expression. "I don't go here, though. I'm just stopping by to drop off some things my cousin forgot."

White lies. What was a white lie worth? Aelin likely wouldn't ever see him again, and is it so wrong for a girl to enjoy some harmless attention? If Aelin spent more time thinking about it, she probably wouldn't like the answers she'd come up with, but that was neither here nor there.

"Is that a waffle maker?" Rowan's green eyes glint with amusement.

"My cousin loves to eat. What year are you?" Aelin crosses her fingers that he's the same age as Aedion and not a senior or something. Her cousin would murder her if he found out she flirted with a man five years older.

"Don't we all? I'm a sophomore, a bit younger than you, I suppose." Rowan drags a hand through his hair. "Listen, I know you came to see your cousin, but maybe I could get your number, and we could get a cup of coffee before you head out?"

Was this really happening? Aelin inwardly squealed with excitement. Lysandra would die when she recounted this story later. "Sure."

Just as she pulled her phone from her pocket, an all too familiar voice materialized behind her. "Aelin?"

Aedion smiles as he lays eyes on his beloved cousin. He takes a couple steps down the stairs, and that grin quickly fades as he sees the naked man.

Oops, she'd forgotten that detail.

"Rowan?" Aedion's eyes harden as they lock on Rowan. "Why the hell are you ogling my cousin with no clothes on?"

"You know him?" Aelin swears under her breath. She cannot believe her luck.

Aedion laughs coldly as he sizes up Rowan, "He's my roommate, but he's about to be a corpse. Why are you perving on my seventeen-year-old cousin?"

Rowan's looks between the bewildered. "You said you were a junior?"

Aedion laughs harshly as Aelin blushes. "I am...just in highschool. Not college. I told you I didn't go here."

"I didn't realize I was rooming with a pedophile," Aedion grabs Aelin and pulls her to his chest. "Was he bothering you?"

"Pedophile?" Rowan's dimples have disappeared, and he looks at Aedion disturbed. "I'm only nineteen!"

Aelin shoves away from Aedion's boorish grip. "The only one bothering me is you."

Rowan's cheeks are flushed red as the full impact of the situation they were found in dawns on him. Damn it if Aelin didn't find his blush endearing. He is a solid chunk of muscle. How is everything he does so cute?

"Look, I just got out of the shower, and I bumped into Aelin. It was an accident. She was just on her way to give you your waffle maker-"

"You brought my waffle maker?" Aedion cuts Rowan off, eyeing the box under her arm.

That's when Aelin sees it. The twinkle of mischief in his eye and the forced concern. Aedion was playing her. He obviously knew Rowan wasn't a creep and saw the perfect opportunity to cause chaos. Aelin scowls at him, and that spark grows brighter. It's moments like this she wonders why she ever missed her cousin in the first place.

Aedion tugs the box out of her grasp and smiles. "Wow. This is perfect timing. Vaughn and Fen were just talking about making breakfast for dinner." He looks at Aelin and forces a frown. "If I'd known you were coming, I would have invited you, but it would kind of be rude to bring a guest now."

"What?" Aelin sputters. She drove all this way, and he was really going to ditch her? It was embarrassing, but tears prickled at the edges of her eyes. He was an ass, but she obviously came because she missed him, and he didn't even care? She really thought they were closer than that.

"Yeah. Sorry, Lin." Aedion points at Rowan, who was just standing to the side, thoroughly uncomfortable. Yet, despite the awkwardness, he hadn't left. "Hey, you owe me one for creeping on my little cousin. Earn my trust back and see that she has something for dinner and gets to her car safely? She has my phone number, one bad text, and your ass is grass."

Aedion tosses her a wink, and it's all Aelin can do to keep from outright gaping. Rowan looks stunned, his eyes darting between the two Ashryvver's. They settle on Aelin for a moment too long. Some of the tension eases from his shoulders, and he smiles. "I think I can manage that."

"Good." Aedion turns back up the stairs pats the box. "Thanks for bringing it to me, Lin. I'll call you tomorrow, don't send me to voicemail."

Just like that, her cousin, a walking, talking agent-of-chaos, disappears back to wherever he came from.

"So," Rowan starts, "If you want, I know a perfect Italian place we could swing by, my treat seeing as I plowed into you."

Aelin frowns and fiddles with the end of her necklace. "You aren't upset that I lied?"

"You didn't lie." Rowan chuckles, a deep sound that sends a shiver of delight down Aelin's spine. "You don't go here."

Aelin tilts her head as if she's deeply considering the offer. "I suppose it couldn't hurt. What's good there?"

"They have an awesome kabob." Rowan tugs his towel tighter. "It's my favorite."

It's Aelin's turn to laugh. "Isn't that just meat on a stick?"

"Let's go, and I can show you how profoundly wrong you are," he moves to take a step down, but Aelin stops him with a hand to the shoulder. "What is it?"

Aelin points to his towel, "I don't think they will serve guests without pants."

The flush that Aelin loves his back full force as he scrambles the other direction up the stairs. "Shit. Give me five minutes. I'll be right back. Aedion better have not locked out or I swear-"

Rowan's embarrassed tirade quiets as he charges up to his dorm to change. Aelin smiling as he goes. She can't believe she's going out to dinner with a guy like that.

Opening her phone, she sends a quick heart emoji to her cousin. He instantly replies back with one of his own. Aedion may have moved to college, but he still had her back at the end of the day. Even if it wasn't in the most ideal way.

Rowan comes back down the stairs moments later, and she's not disappointed by what she sees. He took the time to put on a flannel shirt and comb some gel through his hair. While the view without clothes had been pleasant, Aelin could definitely appreciate this look too.

"I'm ready if you are," Rowan extends an arm to help her down the stairs.

It's such a fussy, old-man move, and she loves it.

"Let's go."

[bts-hyperfixation]

Why Not Then? 18+

Here it is in all it s 4327 words.... This one kind of got away from me.

angst/fluff/smut 

I hope you like it!

Warnings: unprotected sex

pic found here

Tonight’s the night. At least that’s what you were telling yourself. Senior prom. It’s now or never. Tonight is the night you are going to tell Jungkook how you really feel about him. He has to feel the same way, you are inseparable. There is no doubt in your mind that the only obstacle in the way is fear, not wanting to ruin the friendship you had worked so hard to build. The doorbell sounds through your house and you take a deep breath. For the hundredth time that day you look in the mirror. Curls frame your face, makeup done to perfection, and the seafoam A-line dress you had chosen made you feel like a queen. Your mother calls you downstairs, you can hear your father making polite conversation with your date as they wait for you. Another reason you are so sure Jungkook feels the same, he is your date. He could’ve had any other girl in school, but he asked you.

The moment you descend from the top of the stairs is like a movie. His goofy little bunny smile lights up his face when he sees you. You try as elegantly as possible to parade down the stairs, using one hand to lift the hemline of your dress, as the other glides along the bannister. You take your time. Eyeing him up as you go, the tuxedo was such a stark difference to his usual gym shorts. He was stunning. His short dark hair quaffed and gelled. Everything was going to go as planned tonight. You could just feel it.

“You look beautiful as ever” he laughs taking your hand and spinning you. You can’t help giggling.

“Not too bad yourself.” You pull on the lapels of his jacket. He bats you away a straightens himself back up just as the flash goes off on your mother’s camera. She arranges the two of you in to ten different poses before letting you leave. Jungkook had driven his beat-up convertible to pick you up. To anyone else that car would be an eyesore, but he loved it, and so did you. So many nights spent just talking and looking up at the stars, cuddled up under an old picnic blanket. To you it was a pumpkin carriage.

He opens your door for you and helps to fold your skirt so it wouldn’t rip in the limited space. He runs to the other side and jumps over the door and into his seat. Your parents wave you off as you pull away. It’s a short drive to the school. 10 minutes at most. He parks like a pro, doing that thing that guys do when they reverse into a space. The twisting just so you can see more of their neck and watch how their arms flex around the back of your headrest. You start to climb out of the seat when suddenly he is in front of you, hand extended to help you. It’s hard not to laugh at how hard he is trying to be a proper gentleman tonight.

“Come on Y/N-ah, the night of our dreams awaits.” He quotes the prom theme. The unbelievably cringy and cliched ‘night of our dreams’. Walking through the doors, it was still blatantly obvious you were in the school gym, but the prom committee at least tried their best. Tacky streamers in blues and silvers, star themed props, a solar system themed photo booth. Its clear they had to use some of the previous year’s decorations, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. The butterflies were building in your stomach. Anxious and excited about where your confession could take you.

All of your other friends are already here, dancing to the catchy pop music blaring over the sound system. The path to them is crowded with other sweating high-schoolers, so Jungkook decides just the two of you should go and take photos. He pulls you towards the photo booths, lining up with the other groups and couples waiting their turns. It hasn’t escaped your notice that he is still holding on to your hand. Tight.

“Don’t you want to go dance with the others?” you gesture towards those in the middle of the floor, laughing as one of the boys loses his balance mimicking a slut drop.

“No, I want to take some stupid pictures with my best friend and date for the evening.” He winks at you, a move that should come off as light -hearted and cringy. Instead it feels like he has shot you in the heart. The response you come back with shocks you.

“Just because you’re in love with me.” You accompany the remark by sticking your tongue out at him. He grabs your chin and makes you look him directly in the eyes. Your heart beats double time. It looks like he is going to kiss you. Before his face gets close enough to yours, he ruins it.

“You wish Y/N.” he laughs it off, but you see it as your chance. Now or never, tonight’s the night…

“Actually…” and then it’s your turn for pictures. You don’t get a chance to get the rest of the sentence out. Whether he heard or not you don’t know but now he is excitedly rummaging around a box of props. He pulls out a silver feather boa and oversized-blue sunglasses for you, finding a matching set for himself. It’s a strip of four photos. One smile, one where he jabs you in the ribs, one with silly faces, and one where you kiss him… only on the cheek. Not enough to throw yourself in the deep end, just enough to gauge his reaction.

His ears turn bright red and he stammers about going to find the others as you exit the booth. It has to be a good sign if you make him flustered, right? The next hour is spent ruining all the work that had gone into this evening. Hair stuck to sweaty foreheads, makeup creasing around the eyes, lipstick wiped on the backs of hands. When the live band comes onto play, you and your friends head outside for air. It’s nice feeling the wind, a slight chill in the late hour. Most of your friends can’t hack it for too long, choosing to return to the dance floor in time for the party tracks to come on. Eventually it leaves just you and him. You hear the opening chords of the cha cha slide start up inside and decide now is a good a time as ever, more than eager to avoid the choreographed dance portion of the evening.

“Can I talk to you?” you reach for his hand. He turns to look at you properly and sees the serious look on your face, his brows furrowing to match.

“What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing’s wrong, just come with me.” He lets you drag him away from the gym. You head toward the school greenhouse, no one is going to come looking for you there.

“This is weirdly private Y/N, are you sure everything is okay?” he feels your forehead as if he is worried you have suddenly fallen ill.

“I’ve been trying to tell you this for the longest time and I can’t not anymore, it’s time.” He opens his mouth to speak again, the confusion evident in his eyes. You raise a finger to his lip to stop him. “I’m in love with you.” The words escape more like vomit than a statement. It feels so freeing to get the words out. You can’t help the grin that spreads across your face. Finally admitting how you feel is an amazing feeling. Until you take in the way he is looking at you. You might as well have grown a second head. Your about to speak again when he turns on his heel and makes a run for it.

He walks briskly away from the concealed shed and back inside of the school. You don’t know if you should laugh or cry. Of all the responses you thought you’d get; abandonment was not one of them. It takes you a moment to snap out of the shock he had left you in. you follow the trail he took back into the main hall. Spotting him even through the crowd, people parted as he passed them. He beelines straight through the gym and though the doors into the main corridors. When you make it into the hallway, he is at the other end about to disappear around a corner.

“Stop running away from me!” you yell a little too loud, other lingering students stop and stare at you on their ways back from the bathroom. Unfortunately, you can’t bring yourself to care. Jungkook faulters for a moment before continuing. “Jeon Jungkook! I said stop.” You kick off your heels and run in the direction he disappeared. You nearly run full force into his chest as you turn the corner not expecting him to be there.

“Why?” his voice is small and harsh, not the usual bubbly tone he always has for you.

“Why what?” your more than a little annoyed that you had to chase him only for him to ask you a question.

“Why do you love me?” it’s not the question you thought he’d ask. Why now? How long? What’s your ring size? Those were the questions you had been prepared for. Not why do you love him. you thought that was obvious. “Seriously, why do you think your in love with me?” that stung ‘think’ he doesn’t believe you. Thinks its some silly girly crush you have.

“I love you because you’re you. You’re my best friend, you make me happy when no one else does, my heart hurts when I don’t see you for more than a day.” You reach for his hands, trying your best to convey your sincerity. He flinches in response. Pulls way back out of your reach.

“I don’t feel the same way.” Now it really does feel like someone has stabbed you. Run you straight through with a sword. Your stomach twists so hard you might throw up. This wasn’t an option. In all the ways you had imagine your prom night going, this hadn’t crossed your mind. You taste the tears at the corners of your lips before you realise your crying. “You can’t just spring something like this on someone Y/N! we were having such a great night, why did you have to do this.” He is not only rejecting you, he is blaming you for having feelings. It’s all too much.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. The lump in your throat makes it hard for you to speak at all. “I just thought…”

“You thought wrong.” His response is so fast, cutting off every chance you might’ve had to put a band aid over the situation. Maybe held it together until the night was over. Now there is no chance of that.

“I’m sorry.” You try again but he just rolls his eyes. Instead of making you sadder, this reaction makes you angry. How dare he. How dare he just dismiss you like you never meant anything to him. Like you weren’t even a friend.

“I should take you home.” He gestures towards a nearby exit. He doesn’t reach for your hand to guide you like he would’ve any other point in the night. You shake you head and walk back in the direction you came, picking up your shoes as you passed them. You walked straight out of the front gates and all the way home. That was the last conversation you’d have with Jungkook for a long time.

Graduation came and went. He tried to talk to you a few times in person, but you just walked away. Still seething at the way he reacted.  He texted you constantly, left voicemails until you blocked his number. Your other friends never found out exactly what happened. They pieced bits together from what the two of you were able to talk about but never the full picture. When he started coming to your house to apologise you decided it was time to move on and headed to college early.

You were in town for a wedding. One of your high school friends had managed to meet the love of their life while away at college and asked you to come. It was a nice excuse to visit your parents. You didn’t come home as often as you would’ve liked. The town felt a little haunted after you finished school, so you tried hard to avoid it. Especially at times like this.

You were standing in your childhood bedroom, dressed to the nines once more. This time knowing that Jungkook was not going to be waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. But he might be at the wedding. Getting over the boy you had never really been with was more of a challenge than you could’ve ever imagined. It took you almost the entire first year away to truly get some peace on the situation. You even started to understand his point of view. He was just an 18-year-old boy trying to enjoy one of the last nights he’d get with his friends. The you had gone and dumped a whole load of new information on him. It wasn’t fair of you, just as much as it wasn’t fair of him. Truthfully, a little part of you would always wonder what if. What if he had felt the same way, would people be coming home for your wedding instead? Or would it have fizzled out long distance?

You are pulled out of your thoughts by your phone signalling the arrival of your uber. Taking a deep breath, you grabbed you clutch and headed out, eerily reminiscent of that night.

Five years later.

The wedding is at a fancy hotel on the other side of town. You are escorted by the ushers into the main room. you quickly scan the area for him. You don’t even know if he is coming but you don’t want to be caught off guard. Coming up empty you thank the groom’s men and find a seat in the back of the bride’s section where you can survey the room.

It feels ridiculous being so on guard around the person that used to mean the world to you. Your eyes meet as soon as he walks through the door. He seems genuinely surprised to see you there. He tries a weak smile and lifts his hand to wave in your direction, but you put your head down, choosing to focus on the intricacies of the program instead. 4 hymns and a sermon. For a nonchurch wedding it sure seemed religious. You roll your eyes and settle in for a long one. You watch out of the corner of your eye as he skulks away. Sitting a few rows in front of you. You allow yourself the luxury of looking at him now that he can’t look back. His hair is a lot longer now. The suit he has chosen definitely fits a lot better than his prom tux. His shoulders are nicely outlined, strong and broad. It’s a nice visual.

The wedding seems to happen around you. Old friends come over to catch up. Vows are exchanged everyone is shuffled into a banquet hall. All the while you are watching Jungkook out of the corner of your eye. Seeing him go through the motions just as you are. Three tables away. Clearly your friend has been smart enough to think that through when creating two singles tables in her seating plan.

The night wore on. Speeches were made, drinks were spilt. More than one groom’s man ripped his trousers on the dance floor. You were getting some air in the gardens when he found you.

“You look beautiful as ever.” His voice is soft, but it still makes you jump, not expecting him to approach you at all.

“Thanks.” You move to brush passed him, eager to put some space between you. Very Much not wanting to exchange awkward pleasantries with the man that, after today, you were sure still owned your heart. He steps back into your path, and makes you meet his eyes. It hurts all over again. Every feeling you had that night rushes back, every bit of progress you’d made since then erased in a matter of seconds.

“Can we talk? Please?” he sounds almost as desperate to talk to you as you are to leave.

“Talk about what Jungkook? It’s been years, just let it lie.”

“Exactly it’s been years and I know how I feel about you now, know how I felt about you then… please just let me explain myself.” He pleads with you. You stand firm, half of you longing to hear him out, the other half wanting to run the way he had.

“Why should I let you talk now? You didn’t let me talk then.” You can hear the venom dripping in your tone but can’t bring yourself to adjust your voice.

“I was a kid back then Y/N, and I was scared I was going to lose you” he chuckles darkly “I guess I did that anyway.” He grabs for your hand, this time you get to pull away from him. None of this is fair, where was this person when you needed him five years ago? He sighs at your reaction. “Look I was terrified okay? I didn’t know how I felt about you. I just knew everything was changing and I didn’t want us to change. But I know who I am and what I want now, and that’s you.” He closes the distance you had put between you in one stride. His mouth heavy on yours trying to prove a point.

You can’t bring yourself to pull away this time. Instead melting into his embrace. Letting yourself indulge in the boy that was all you ever wanted.

“Why now? Why not then?” you ask when he finally pulls away.

“Because you wouldn’t speak to me until now. I wanted to tell you the day after, but you wouldn’t talk to me. And you were right to do so. I was such an asshole to you about it. Let me make it up to you.” He peppers your face with kisses.

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have cut you off like that. I was scared too.” He holds you tight cradling you into his chest. You stand there for a while. Taking in everything about him that you’d missed. The smell of fresh cotton, the warmth he always radiated. All of it.

“I have a room upstairs if you want to go. Maybe we could watch a movie?” you pull away to look straight up at him. he must have realised what it sounded like then because his mouth formed an o and his eyes widened. “Wait no, I really did mean a movie.” He tries to backtrack.

“What if you didn’t mean a movie?” as soon as your meaning sinks in, he is sprinting away. This time with you in tow, struggling to keep up. Eventually he decides you are slowing him down. He lifts you bridal style into the nearest elevator. He refuses to put you down, even though you are forced into a standstill. As soon as the door dings, he is through them. Balancing you and opening the door isn’t even a challenge as he bursts through into the luxurious hotel room. He throws you unceremoniously on to the bed before discarding his jacket on the floor. You watch, propped up on your elbows, as he loosens his tie and kicks off his shoes before helping you with yours. He runs his hand up the back of your calf, rolling down the stockings you’d worn in an effort to avoid tights.

His hair falls into his eyes as he meets your gaze, and you can’t take the teasing anymore. Grabbing him by the collar, you pull him on top of you. Your lips finding his, unwilling to let go until your lungs hurt. He has one arm by your head, supporting some of his weight while the other trails down your waist. He drags his fingertips along your thigh as he moves your hemline. With your skirt out of the way his hand moves in between you bodies finding its way to your clothed pussy.

“I’ve wanted to taste you for so long… can I?” he kisses down your neck as he asks, leaving you barely able to respond. You just about manage to squeak out your approval. He wastes no time, biting into the soft flesh of your thighs as he wraps his hands around your panties. They are disposed of quickly, likely ruined by the slick you can feel pooling between your legs. He licks along your slit, barely delving between your folds. The tip of his tongue flicking at your clit briefly before he goes back and starts the motion again. Each time he gets close to your clit he brushes it slightly, so you shiver with anticipation, but he waits until you are practically panting to go any further. His right hand joins his talented tongue. Two fingers slipping inside of you. The slight stretch burns so good. His mouth moves up, biting gingerly at the sensitive nub he had been teasing for so long. Your thighs clamp involuntarily around his head. He wraps his free arm around your leg, driving you apart to give him better access. His tongue comes back into play drawing little shapes on your clit as he sucks down. He curls his fingers in just the right way to have you coming undone underneath him. Biting your lips to keep yourself quiet. He swats at your thigh until your teeth let go, forcing your moans out into the open. When you stop writhing, he lets your leg go and wipes his face with the back of his hand.

Sitting back on his feet he won’t stop looking at you weird. Its an expression you can’t ever remember him making before, and that worries you.

“What? Why are you looking at me? Were the noises too weird? I tried to keep them in…” he pulls you up to him by the wrists and kisses you before answering.

“I love you… please shut up. Your moans are the sexiest thing I think I have ever heard. Now I just really want to get you out of the rest of your clothes. He reaches around to unzip your dress, fumbling for a moment until you take pity and take it off yourself. His shirt is already unbuttoned by the time the fabric is over your head. You help him to push the sleeves off his arms, taking great pleasure in rubbing your hands across his toned arms. You marvel at the amount of muscle he has gained for a moment before he drags you back to him, falling onto his back so you straddle him.

You make quick work of the clothing on his lower half. Perhaps a little too keen to see what you were working with. He does not disappoint. His cock is above average in length, immediately evident as it slaps against his stomach when released from it’s confines. You shuffle back for a moment to admire the full image. His hair falls haphazardly around his head, lips swollen from the kisses. Perfectly chiselled abs leading into an arrow to what you can only describe as the motherlode. Everything about this moment was worth the wait. But you refused to wait any longer. You stroke your hand softly along his shaft, pumping a few times before moving to sit yourself on top. You sink down slowly at first, having to take extra precaution to not hurt yourself. His eyes pinch shut and his nose crinkles as a little whimper escapes his mouth. You slap his chest.

“If I’m not allowed to stay quiet, neither are you.” He nods enthusiastically and opens one eye just as you reach the base of his dick.

“Fuck.” His voice low and breathy. Sounds more like he just ran a marathon than had a girl sit on him. As you feel more comfortable, you start to wriggle your hips, not thrusting away, just enough friction to tease him like he did you. You don’t get away with it for quite as long though. His hands are on your hips and you are powerless to stop him as he makes you bounce, meeting each thrust with one of his own. Soon it’s not enough for him. Too worked up to relinquish any control. He flips you quickly, now on your knees. He barely gives you time to orientate yourself before driving into you from behind. Fast, sloppy thrusts used to reach his own end. He snakes one arm underneath you. Skilled fingers finding your clit, playing with you until you tighten around him. making it difficult for him to keep going.

Soon he spills over, cumming deep inside of you. Holding onto you with all he has. Instead of pulling out, he falls over with you in his arms. Cuddling into the back of you as he comes down. You wiggle experimentally on his softening cock, earning you a growl. You giggle at his oversensitivity and try to get free as painlessly as possible.

“Don’t go” he is whiny when he is tired, it’s so endearing. He makes a grabby hand at you as you clamber of the side of the bed

“I’m only going to the bathroom; I’ll be right back.” You kiss him on the cheek as you round the bed.

“Good because I never want to be without you, ever again.” he admits as you walk into the bathroom.

February request - open

Masterlist

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Secrets ~ 3

Warnings: noncon sexual acts later in series

This is dark!Bucky and dark!Steve and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: A buried family secret comes to light thrusting you to the forefront of an old alliance.

Note: Finished this before work! Hope y’all enjoy.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

There was a flurry of activity around the jet waiting on the tarmac. You sat in the car, still cuffed, trapped, as you watched the crew hurry. It was barely noon yet and you were exhausted. Barnes returned and slid in the other side. You ignored him and kept your eyes out the window.

“Shouldn’t be long before we can board,” He said. “You look unhappy, your highness. Is there any way I can help?”

“Uncuff me, let me go home and live my life,” You snapped dryly. “That would about do it.”

“Get it all out now.” He chided. “The king won’t stand for your lip.”

“‘The king won’t stand for your lip’,” You mimicked and grunted as you leaned a bit too heavily on your hands. “I really don’t care what he wants and I certainly don’t care what he thinks of me. All the better if he hates me.”

“This isn’t about feelings. He will marry you regardless of his personal bias,” Barnes assured. “It will be easier, however, if he has a reason to tolerate you.”

“Do you really live by the forgotten words just because they were written down?” You scoffed. “You know how absurd that is? I’ve seen the stories, he could marry anyone--”

“No, he can’t,” Barnes intoned. “Those forgotten words are not forgotten. The kingdom remembers the agreement. They remember how much we gave to the flagging country of Ecklun. They remember we were promised a princess.” He looked at you. “You. We paid our dues and we expect a return on it.”

You shook your head, finding it hard not to laugh sardonically. It was all backwards. This was the shit you read about in textbooks or fantasy novels. It was bullshit.

“Would it disqualify me to tell you I’m not pure?” You snickered. “To tell you I didn’t save myself for the king I never gave a second thought about?”

“It doesn’t bother me and surely not him.” Barnes shrugged. “He’s had his own fun, but I would advise you to not be so flippant about it with him. He is not one for cheek.”

“If I am who you say I am, I will do as I like.” You snarled.

“Very well. I can’t stop you. I can only warn you against it.” He pushed his head back and sighed. “You know your history, you recall how kings can be.”

👑

You sat on the plane in a plush leather seat, white and pristine like the rest of the interior. Barnes was across from you, eyes closed and arms crossed over his chest. Once you’d taken off, he’d quit checking his watch and settled into the flight without a second glance at you. You couldn’t do the same. 

Aside from your anxiety and anger over all that had transpired, your hands remained bound behind you and kept you from leaning back or getting comfortable in the least. You teetered on the edge of the seat and glared at him.

“What do you want, Duchess?” He asked without lifting an eyelid.

“Can’t you at least take these off?” You grumbled. “My shoulders are killing me.”

He shrugged and said nothing.

“You can’t expect me to sit through this whole flight like this.” You hissed. “Shit, you don’t treat me like a duchess or whatever you claim I am.”

His eyes opened sharply and he uncrossed his arms. He sat forward, his jaw ticked as he inhaled deeply through his nose.

“You will not use that language further,” He warned. “Understood. It is unladylike. Unseemly. I won’t tolerate it and neither will the king.”

“Language? I’m sorry I don’t talk in iambic pentameter.” You scowled.

“You know what I mean. No more shits, fucks, and all that.” He seemed disgusted by the words on his tongue. “If you feel the need to moan, pretend you are a child.”

“Oh, gosh, will do, mister,” You said dryly. He raised his brow and his nostrils flared. “If I promise to watch my mouth, will you undo these?”

He blinked and checked the time again. He seemed to weigh the option as he angled his head one way then the other.

“Well, I can’t have you arriving in cuffs, I suppose,” He stood and reached into his pocket as he neared. “But don’t think I won’t bring them back out if needed. You understand?”

“Yes, Mr. Barnes, I swear to be a good little duchess,” You quipped.

He huffed and pulled you forward as he reached around you to grasp the cuffs. They came free and he drew away. He backed up as he put the key back in his pocket and dropped the cuffs in the empty seat next to him. He leaned an elbow on the rest and held his chin as he watched you. You sat back as you stretched your arms in front of your, turning your hands and rolling your wrists.

“We have a lot of work to do,” He ran his fingertips along his short stubble. “A lot.”

👑

Time seemed to stand still. When you arrived, it was morning in Astrania, the rest of the day lost in the difference. A man in black led you down the steps to the tarmac, Barnes behind you, and another man. You were taken into the airport, away from the general public, and guided through the corridors meant for employees only.

Barnes came up to walk beside you. A sudden tide of displacement washed over you. It was all real. You were far from home, stranded, trapped, in a land you didn’t know. With a title you didn’t want. For a purpose you dreaded.

The man in front of you stopped short before a door and turned back to look at Barnes.

“Cameras are here.” He said curtly.

“Already?” Barnes frowned. 

“They must’ve seen the royal jet circling,” The man replied. “Apparently, they’ve been on alert since your departure.”

Barnes sighed and nodded. He unbuttoned the single button of his jacket and pulled it off.  “Just make sure you keep them away.” He opened his jacket and turned to you. “Here.” He tried to shroud your head in his blazer and you dodged it. The man behind you blocked you. “Come on. There’s gonna be at least a dozen photogs out there and you far from ready for an appearance.”

“Are you serious?” You snorted.

“The longer we wait, the more will be there,” He said. “Now come on.”

He threw his jacket over you and you caught it. It smelled like expensive cologne and sweat. He wrapped it around you so that you could barely see and grabbed your arm to guide you onward. Unsteady, unsure, you let him usher you ahead and a heavy metal door opened, a streak of light visibly past the hem of the jacket as you could barely see your own feet.

A buzz of voices and the shutter of cameras greeted you outside and you clutched the  fabric tighter. Barnes kept on, a few warnings to the vulture-like photogs as the way was cleared ahead of him by your stalwart escorts. A car door opened and you were angled inside quickly. 

You caught yourself on the seat and felt a nudge to move over. Barnes climbed in as you righted yourself and the door closed heavily behind him. He pulled his jacket away and shook it out as the tinted windows flashed with the cameras outside. He grumbled and folded his jacket in his lap.

“Well,” He bemoaned. “That does change things.” He shifted on the seat. “Driver. Go on.”

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“Your arrival will be a headline by the next hour,” He explained. “That means we have even less time to get you… ready.”

“Oh, such a tragedy.” You snipped.

“Trust me, duchess, while you insist on making a mockery of this, you do not want to face the media without preparation,” The car began to move and ran his fingers through his dark hair. “They will tear you apart. What matters is their perception not your intent.”

“Ah, is that your job then?” You wondered. “You’re supposed to make a lady of me.”

“I am to educate you,” He insisted. “A tall and no doubt foolhardy task,” He growled. “But my king gave me an order and I will do what I can to mold you into at least a semblance of a lady.”

👑

Lush green fields turned to rolling hills. You watched the scenery, almost forgetting where you were and why. The picturesque countryside awed you and sent a chill through you. It truly felt like you had stepped back in time; even as if you had arrived on an entirely different planet.

Trees planted in careful lines closed in around the road and led to a row of tall hedges and you stopped before a gate of curled metal, topped by sharp points. It opened after the driver gave a short honk. The long drive was laid with mosaic stones and curved before the rounded steps of a great mansion. The double doors at the top were decorated with golden knockers and the handles were wrought and twisted elegantly. The car came to a halt and Barnes, as was his habit, checked his watch.

Your door was opened by the driver as Barnes climbed out the other side. He rounded the vehicle and beckoned you towards the steps. He walked beside you and you could sense him watching you from the corner of your eyes. The doors opened as you approached the stairs and liveried servants appeared from the other side as they welcomed you with eager smiles.

“All is prepared duchess,” He gestured ahead. “The palace has been readied for your seclusion. You are the only task left.”

“What a welcome,” You sneered. “I might be unlearned in the habit of nobility, but I don’t think it is usual for one to speak to a duchess in that tone.”

He smiled and took your arm, hooking it through his as he urged you up the stairs.

“The king has permitted me full reign in your training,” He said as he guided you through the open doors. “He will forgive me my own missteps if I can prevent your own.”

You dragged your feet as you entered the vast foyer. The floor was of white marble veined with gold, the decor shared a similar color scheme, and portraits hung from the walls, vast likeness of women in garb dating from the earliest medieval periods to the last century. You detached from Barnes and looked around.

“This is the Palace of Regia,” Barnes explained from behind you. “These are your foremothers. The queens of Astrania, each of whom took their pre-marital seclusion here. Each who married and served their kings proudly.”

You recalled the tradition, common to many countries but mostly retired since Victoria reigned over England and much of the globe. You turned back to Barnes and blinked.

“How long?”

“Two weeks,” Barnes answered. “Two weeks to ready you for the king’s presence. You will be taken to the capital at the end and attend your engagement party so that you can acquaint yourself with your future husband. Your wedding is scheduled the next week.”

“Engagement party? Wedding?” You echoed. “That’s… three weeks. Not even a month.”

“Yes, so we should get to work.” He neared and grabbed your shoulders. He pushed them back. “Stand straight.” He poked your chin up with two fingers. “Head high, shoulders back.”

“What are you--”

He rounded you and his hand gripped your waist and squeezed. He shushed you and ran his other hand up your spine.

“You must hold yourself like a queen. Mind your posture, your highness.” He said.

You pulled away from him harshly. “What are you doing?”

You were shocked as you felt a slap on your ass and he swiftly caught your hips and drew you back to stand before him.

“I am trying to save you a lot of grief.” He said. “Stay.” He bid as if you were a dog. He released you and came around in front of you. “As I said, head up, shoulders back.”

He stared until you obeyed. You sighed and stood straight as you could. He grinned.

“Let me tell you, Duchess, the cameras, the public, they will judge you even more harshly so you want to give them as little ammunition as you can so that they cannot turn their muzzles on you.” He girded and grabbed your arms, adjusting them before his hands settled on either side of your neck. He tutted. “You cannot hang your shoulders like a hunchback.”

“I don’t--”

“You do.” He insisted. “Now,” He removed his hands and walked backwards until he was near the wall. “Walk to me.” You squinted and he lowered his chin. He chuckled and waved his hand to beckon you forward. “Come on.”

You rolled your eyes but took a step. He hissed. “Keep your head up. Shoulders straight. Don’t sway like that.” Each footfall had another comment until you were right before him. He gestured you to turn around and he kicked your feet closer together and again touched your hips. “Let them know you’re a woman but do not flaunt it. Walk as if there is a string running straight through you. Lift your feet.”

He nudged you and you began to walk again. He followed not far behind and you heard his displeased grumbles. He fixed your shoulders, your hips again, told you to keep your feet closer together, head up! 

You were growing more and more annoyed by the second. You were tired. You hadn’t even had a chance to register everything. You were in a palace, marching beneath the eyes of dozens of dead queens, far from home and all you had ever known. It was all so foreign, so different, so startlingly unfamiliar. You hated it.

“Enough!” You spun to face him and he stopped short. “Holy shit! I haven’t even--”

He grabbed your hand and smacked it like you were a child. “Language.” He warned.

You tugged your hand back and gaped at him. “What the fuck--”

He took your hand again and smack it harder. “Your highness, let us not be children.”

“Don’t touch me--” You tore yourself away. “You’re fucking crazy.”

“If you insist on acting like a child, I will bend you over and spank you like one.” He said. “Now, stand straight.” He crossed his arms. “And mind your mouth.” You stared at him, stunned. He raised his brows and nodded to you. “Don’t make me count, Duchess.”

[t-lostinworlds]

Green-Eyed (Tom Holland)

A/N: This was supposed to be short but I got carried away as always. I don’t think this is the best I’ve written but I’m hoping it’s not as shit as the usual aha. Also to the anon I’m sorry if this took a lil longer than expected hun. Hope you still like it! <3

Pairing: Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Requested:

Warnings: A dick-ish (if u squint) jealous!Tom and typos.

Word Count: 3.6k

Masterlist in Bio

-:-:-:-:-

"Pretty please?" Tom dragged out his last word as he rested his head sweetly on your shoulder, sporting his best puppy-dog eyes with bottom lip pouted to make it harder for you to resist him.

You groaned in dismay as you threw your head back on the couch, eyes screwed shut to try and ignore the face of your handsome but very annoying best friend. "Why me Tom? And why'd you ask me this so fucking last minute?"

Tom has decided to tell you just now that there's a charity gala tomorrow, and that he wants you to be his plus one. Countless of a-list celebrities would be there to support different causes, so imagine the upmost dread you're feeling just thinking about joining Tom when that wasn't even your type of crowd, when you've never been to an event like it to begin with. Plus, you know he will have friends there too, if he hangs out with them, what would you do then?

The event tomorrow starts at six p.m., and he's just told you this now, clock showing eight-thirty p.m., who would not be annoyed? Better yet, who wouldn't be terrified?

"You're my best friend, you're the one I want to the there with. Come on, it's for charity, you never say no to charity."

This motherfucker...

You turned to him with a glare, arms crossed over your chest at his foul play. "You're not playing fair you know that."

Tom sat straight back up, body turned fully to face you, eyes still showing the same gleam as he pressed his palms together, resting it under his chin to beg. "Just please? You won't feel left out I promise. I'll be right there with you all night." He reassures as if he was able to read your mind, but being friends for long enough, you had no doubts that he probably could, to an extent of course.

Let's be honest, there was no way you'd say no. One, it's for charity; and two, it's Tom for heaven's sake, you never can. But the fact that you are simply unprepared to go to an event like this, it's daunting.

"I don't even have anything to wear."

Tom only chuckled sheepishly at that, hand coming up to rub on his shoulder, a nervous tick of his you've grown to adore, even if you've been trying so hard not to.

Got to have those boundaries.

"Uh, I already bought you a dress and Christine is going to help you with everything else. So please say yes." He shot you the brightest smile he could muster, one where it showed his rows of teeth with his eyes all crinkled. You blinked at him in deep surprise.

He already had this thought out huh?

"You are unbelievable Holland." You grumbled.

Tom chuckled in response, smug grin in play as he wriggles his brows at you. "Now, will you do me the honors of coming to the gala with me Y/N?" You rolled your eyes at him, sighing in disbelief but nodded anyway.

"Fine."

And just like the kid that he is, Tom threw his hands up in the air, shouting a 'yay' in pure glee before wrapping his arms around your rigid form to give you a tight squeeze, you playfully pushing him away in feign annoyance.

You were still nervous. How can you not be when you have no idea what to expect during this gala, who you were going to meet, but with one look at this stupid boy—who is also a big celebrity which you tend to forget—beside you, you felt yourself relax a little.

How bad can it be?

***

"Wow."

Tom gushed, the phone he had on hand lowering ever so dramatically, tearing his eyes off of the screen to scan you from head to toe. You felt your cheeks warm at his reaction. "Does it look okay?"

"Okay? You look fucking gorgeous. I knew I picked the right dress." He exclaimed all proud, sauntering over to you looking incredibly handsome himself, the color of his suit—not exactly matching—but coordinating with yours just right.

"You did."

Best believe you're the last person to stroke this man's ego, but you have to give credit where credit is due, he did pick the right dress.

It was a short, red satin dress with the waist embezzled with a silver crystal belt. The back was bare along with a plunging v-neckline to match, making it look sexy and classy at the same time. And the fact that it fitted you perfectly, it made you feel elegantly beautiful in the most sophisticated way.

How has Tom managed to get you the perfect size? He "borrowed"—his choice of word when you insisted he stole it—one of your dresses and used it as a guide. A clever boy.

Your hair was up in a messy bun, small curls falling freely to frame your face, one that sported just enough make up just to enhance your natural beauty and not make it look superficial.

"Damn, I can't take my eyes off of you." Tom muttered under his breath, eyes still glued to your figure and you can't stop your heart from skipping a beat at that.

Whether he meant to say that out loud, you don't know, unable to decide if he was playing with you in a best-friend-banter kind of way or if there was an underlying meaning in his tone, but you can't seem to think about that now. Not when the nerves were already eating you up inside out just thinking about the event, thinking about which celebrity you were going to meet and if you weren't going to make a big fool out of yourself, so you cleared your throat.

"Tom quit ogling we're going to be late."

Tom shook his head with a shy chuckle, blush prominent on his cheek as he made way for you with a curtsy. "After you mi lady."

"Thank you Christine!" Tom called out before both of you were out the door, him helping you in his car like the gentleman that he is and then driving towards this most awaited gala.

***

You were actually having fun.

Tom has introduced you to a few of his 'famous' friends and you were delighted to see that they were just as sweet and kind. You've met a couple artists here and there too, just casual conversations, one after the other, you and Tom going through it together as he's never left your side the moment you two arrived, just as promised.

That until he decided to get you a drink.

Standing in your place you looked around the extravagant hall of the humongous mansion—or castle more like it—admiring the huge chandeliers that adorned the ceiling along with the beautiful murals that coated the space. You were busy appreciating the artwork that you didn't notice someone was approaching until they spoke.

"Hi, I'm Calum." Startled, you let out a small squeak as you looked for the owner of the voice, eyes meeting brown ones and you felt your whole face heat up once you recognized who it was.

Calum Hood from 5 Seconds of Summer, the band you've been a big fan of for how many years now.

You shook his hand with a shy smile, whole body going timid once he gave it a gentle squeeze before letting go. "Oh, hi, uh Y/N, and yes I know who you are. I love your new album."

"Oh really, thank you so much." Calum chuckled with a grateful nod, eyes looking at you in a way that's made the butterflies in your stomach tingle a little.

"I don't mean to come off weird but I saw you just standing there and you look really beautiful and I needed to say hi." You blinked, surprised at his words.

What kind of fanfiction is this?

You flashed him a sweet smile, a small giggle coming out of you as you responded bashfully. "Thank you. You look really good too."

The conversation just took off from there. You asked him about their new music while he asks you anything mundane that comes to his mind. You keep on laughing at something clever or stupid he had said, proximity just close enough to prove that you were having a great time. When you finally calmed down, Calum cleared his throat, hand rubbing behind his neck nervously.

"Mind if I get you a drink?"

Before you could even do as much as move your mouth to give him an answer, a deep voice spoke just behind you,

"I'm sorry but she already has one."

Your head snap back to see Tom, face stern with jaw clenched tightly, a certain glint coating eyes. The obvious anger you can see yes, but there's something else mixed with it, one you couldn't pinpoint as to what exactly it is yet.

"Ah, Mr. Tom Holland. Nice to meet you mate." Calum greeted politely, the bloke already knowing that you came here with Tom having that you've told him.

"Likewise." Tom's lips only quirked up just a tad bit as he took Calum's hand with a tight grip, not too obvious but you noticed it nonetheless. Calum only chuckled with a knowing nod, giving Tom a certain look— like he realized something you haven't—before turning to you with a charming smile.

"I'll leave you two to it. It was nice meeting you Y/N." Calum says as he pulls you in for a warm hug, your arms wrapping around him with a small squeeze in return as you responded with just as much delight. "You too Calum."

You watched him walk away, Calum giving you one last look over his shoulder with a small wave before disappearing into the crowd.

"Well, there goes my daydream of being a musician's girlfriend, touring around the world while singing their songs in the crowd and being their number one fan." You joked, but Tom didn't find even the tiniest of humor in your statement. In fact, it only made him angrier, nostrils flaring as he gave you a pointed eye roll.

You furrowed your brows at him, utter confusion covering you from head to toe at the look of pure disdain on your best friend's features. "What's up with you?"

"Nothing." Tom shrugged, eyes never meeting yours since the moment he got back from fetching you a drink, said drink that's in his hand but by the looks of it, he has no plan on giving it to you, not even his full attention.

"Well, it surely doesn't look like it's nothing Tom." You frowned at him in concern, hand going up to give him comfort but he blatantly rejected the gesture.

"Let's call it a night, I'm not feeling well." He grumbled, not even waiting for an answer as he quickly turned on his heel and walked away. You tried your best to catch up with him, following closely behind with nothing but bewilderment plastered on your face, still oblivious to the reason of his sudden change in attitude.

"Tom, slow down a sec." He ignores, still walking at a fast pace, not having any sense of empathy at the fact that you were wearing high heels. That's when you felt your anger boil too.

"You know what. Fuck it, if you're going to be a bitch for no goddamn reason then I'm taking a cab." You hissed, and that made him stop. Tom took one deep breath before turning sideways, offering you his arm to hold, gaze still avoiding yours at all costs.

You rolled your eyes and moved ahead, too much pride coursing through you to let his bitchy attitude slide, making sure to bump his arm purposely as you quickly made your way to the parking lot with Tom now following you.

***

The ride home was silent to the point that it was deafening, Tom not paying you any mind as if you weren't there at all.

You now understand that he was angry at you, fuming even. If the way his face was practically red up to the tips of his ears, the way you can practically feel the heat radiate off him wasn't a dead giveaway, then, the tight grip he had on the steering wheel and the speed the car was going, would be.

But as to why exactly that is? You have no fucking idea. As far as you know, you did absolutely nothing wrong.

Letting out a deep sigh, you turned your body to face him fully, just wanting to get this over and done with. "Tom, tell me what's going on."

"It's nothing." He muttered under his breath, eyes dead set on the road ahead. You scoffed. "Don't fucking lie to me."

"I said it's fucking nothing now leave me the fuck alone." Tom barked, the car lurching forward at his sudden burst of frustration.

You were never one to sit still and take bullshit, especially when it's Tom being a dickhead. When that happens due to whatever reason, you're for sure the one the first one to call him out on it. Besides, him driving this fast while angry is never safe.

"That's it, pull over."

"What—"

"Pull over or I'm going to open this fucking door without hesitation." Tom groaned, fully infuriated but did as told knowing you were nowhere near playing, just the tone you had, he wasn't going to risk it.

Once he put the car in park you shot him a glare, voice stern as you ordered. "Get out of the fucking car Tom."

He didn't say another word of protest as he harshly took his seatbelt off and got out of the car, slamming the door shut to make a point of how mad he was.

You were glad the place where the gala was held was detached from the city, a forty-five minute drive to the nearest highway, so the road was pretty much deserted, nothing but endless trees in view. The only source of light was a couple of street lamps, the car's headlights and the bright, full moon that shone high above.

You followed him out and in front of the car, leaning your weight on the hood as you stared at the tensed back of your best friend.

"Now tell me what the fuck is going on with you." When he didn't even do as much as turn around you growled in warning.

"Thomas."

"Alright!" With one deep breath, he finally turned to face you, jaw still set as he shoved both of his hands in the pockets of his slacks, a two-second pause before he finally spoke.

"I'm just frustrated, angry and fucking annoyed." Tom's voice turned low, his eyes casted on the grass where he was standing on, just two feet away from your place on the car.

"At me?"

He sighed, taking sharp intakes of breaths before finally lifting his head up to meet your eyes, so many emotions swimming in his brown ones with a frown on his lips to complete his whole troubled look.

"No, not entirely at least. I'm just, I left you for a second and when I came back the next thing I know you're having such a great time, laughing and flirting with this Calum guy—"

"Calum Hood."

"I don't fucking care what his last name is." Tom snapped, and that's when everything fell into place for you, lips pursed as you tried your best not to break into a smile.

"What is so wrong with me flirting with him Tom?"

The boy lets out a exasperated sigh at that, hand coming up to run through his hair in frustration that it made a curl go astray, a tasteful sight to you especially with him all agitated.

"I just didn't like the way it made me feel okay? Just seeing you laughing at his jokes, getting so close to him at times, just seeing you with someone else I just, it's just—"

"It makes you jealous?" You finished his sentence for him, your heart pounding due to excitement, warmth filling you up at the thought of your best friend getting riled up just thinking about you with another guy, because you feel just the same when you see him with another girl.

"Yes goddammit! It makes me so fucking jealous!" Tom exclaimed, all fucks thrown out the window as every feeling his been bottling up for years now comes bursting out, spilling right on the brim. "It was hard as is trying to fend off these guys who can't stop staring at you, who won't stop hovering over you because by the gods above you look absolutely breathtaking tonight. I really can't blame them because you stole the whole room, but it doesn't make me feel any less frustrated."

"Frustrated on what Tom?" You asked softly, his gaze cutting off with yours as he lets out a sigh, hands falling limp on his sides as he looked up at the starry sky.

"Frustrated because I wanted nothing more than to pull you closer to me, to wrap my arm around your waist to make them back off, but I couldn’t, I had no right to. I wanted to make them see that you're there with me so they need to fucking scram, but what power do I have? I'm just your best friend." Tom was pacing now, going on a full on rant with his hands swinging about to express his emotions and you let him. You sat still and watched as he pours all his heart out, watched with a stupid wide grin on your lips.

"But I want to be more than that Y/N. I don't want to be just your best friend and tonight just slapped me in the fucking face that I genuinely don’t want to be with anyone else but you. But then you went and said that you wanted to be a musician's girlfriend, it just made me so mad and hurt and just—" He stopped himself, head hanging low as he tried to regain his breathing.

You shook your head at the boy with sigh. "I was kidding Tom. I don't want to be a musician's girlfriend; I want to be an actor's, the one who plays Spider-Man to be quite specific."

The way his head shot up so quick to look at you in pure shock made you laugh, hopeful brown orbs staring you down as he made his way towards your spot on the car. You uncrossed your legs as you let him in between them, let him move even closer until his hands took home right on your waist, giving them a tender squeeze as a smug grin slowly formed on his lips.

"You mean—"

"You know, Andrew Garfield, I heard he's single again." You shrugged casually, teasing smirk in play, your little revenge for him being kind of a dick just earlier. Tom's head fell forward to land on your shoulder, arms wrapping fully around your form with a proper whine.

"Y/N."

You let out a hearty laugh, cupping his face with both hands as you pull him off of you, just enough to be able to look at those lovely brown orbs, his bottom lip all jutted out making him look unbearable adorable.

"Of course I meant you, you idiot. There no one else I want to be with other than you Tom." A sweet chuckle escaped Tom's lips as he pressed his forehead against yours, vicinity rightly close to be able to let the tips of your nose brush against each other.

"How are you so beautiful?" Tom sighed in pure adoration. You didn't respond with words, you just tilted your head a little to place your lips right on his, satisfied breaths ringing in your ears as the two of you cherished the feeling that you've been craving for far too long, mouths fitting perfectly like two puzzle pieces, a kiss filled with nothing but utter bliss, pure love.

"I love you." Tom whispered the moment you pulled away, eyes showing not but sincerity and you felt your heart grow ten times its usual size. You hummed, fingers playing with his hair on the nape of his neck fondly. "And I love you, you jealous dork."

With a few more kisses under the moonlight—some sweet and chaste, some not so much—the cold air finally got to the both of you, making your way back inside the car with wide smiles, unable to wipe them off.

"Let's go back to the gala?" Tom grinned, left hand steering while the other sat warmly on top of your thigh, a gesture so sweet until he decides to give it a teasing squeeze every now and then. "What, so you can reintroduce me to everyone, now as your girlfriend and not your best friend?" You joked to which Tom only shrugged with a hum. "I don't see why not."

You shook your head at your man, squaring your shoulders as you said nonchalantly. "I mean, if you want to it's okay. The matching pair I have under this dress can wait."

Tom choked at that, tearing his eyes off the road to give you a swift glance to see if you were serious or not. You only shot him a knowing wink in response, lips curved up teasingly, but nowhere did it show on your face that you were lying with what you just said.

That's made you arrive back home in lesser time that's for sure.

-:-:-:-:-

Like, Reblog & Leave a Comment if you enjoyed! Let me know what you think! <3

Tom H. Taglist: @spacebitch2 @hollanddolanfangirl @keepingupwiththehollands​

[timebird84]

🎄 PotO Advent Calendar 2020 🎄

By @sloanedestler​

Mistletoe

 December 23rd

 “Thank you for such a lovely dinner, Erik.” Christine gave him a beaming smile as he opened the car door for her, leaning toward him just enough that he considered stealing a kiss, but he lost his nerve and merely helped her into the vehicle.

 Unbelievably, it had been exactly two weeks since he and Christine had had their first official date, and if her happy demeanor just now was any indication, he was hopeful there would be still more of them. When Erik slid into the driver’s seat and fastened his seat belt, she looked at him earnestly. “I was thinking maybe you could come up to my apartment when we get back there?”

 There was no chance he would say no to that invitation. Not only would he leap at any opportunity to spend time with Christine, he had been hoping to give her the Christmas gifts he had gotten for her tonight. While they planned to spend Christmas Day together, having been invited to spend the holiday with Meg and her mother, the thought of giving Christine her gifts in front of an audience made him apprehensive.

 “I would love to.” Unable to control the thrill that shot through him as her smile got even bigger, he continued, “but first, I had something else planned.”

 Christine giggled, knowing she was probably acting like a girl on her very first date, but she simply couldn’t help it - she had had feelings for Erik for so long, and now that she no longer had to hide them, it seemed like happiness was just bursting out of her. “Oh, really? What?”

 Erik shook his head, but she could see a slight grin on his thin lips. “It’s a surprise, my dear.”

 “Ooh, another surprise? You already remembered my favorite restaurant tonight.” Despite the difficulties Erik had in being around people, he had taken her to the same Italian restaurant that her father had always taken her to on special occasions, which she had just happened to mention to him months ago when they chatted after one of her voice lessons. As they had pulled up to it earlier that evening, she had fallen for him even more when she realized that Erik must have taken that bit of information about her and filed it away, even if he had thought he would never have the opportunity to actually take her there.

 Although she was dying to know what the surprise was, Christine decided to just savor the anticipation of whatever he had planned, and to continue to enjoy being with Erik like this, but as he drove them toward a residential neighborhood, her curiosity was nearly getting the better of her.

 Just as she was about to break down and ask him what he had planned again, Erik turned down a street seemingly at random, and began driving slowly down it. “You’re the expert, Christine. Does this look like a good street?”

 “A good street for what?” she asked blankly. She was crazy about Erik, but that didn’t mean that she always understood what he was talking about.

 “For Christmas lights? I remember you said you and your father used to drive around and look at people’s Christmas lights every year, so I thought maybe you would like to do that tonight.”

 When Christine didn’t answer, he glanced over at her, wondering if he had done something wrong, feeling his familiar insecurities rise up despite his best effort. When he saw the way her eyes were gleaming, his heart sank as he saw that he must have, if the tears in them were any indication.

 “Christine, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I can take you home now.” Already berating himself for ruining what had been a perfect evening, he started to make a move to turn the car around, but she stopped him with her small hand on his arm.

 “No, Erik,” she said huskily, “I would love to look at lights with you. I was just...surprised you remembered that I told you that. It was so long ago.”

 Erik met her gaze, his yellow eyes burning behind his black mask. “I think I remember everything you’ve ever told me, Christine. Every conversation we had after your lessons, you have no idea what they meant to me, what your friendship meant to me.”

 How she adored this strange, intense man. “Oh, Erik, it meant so much to me, too.” She nearly added that those conversations were what had led to her falling in love with him, but she held back, thinking it was too soon to tell him she loved him. Even though Christine knew without a doubt that she did.

 *****

 “You can still come up, right? I’ll make hot chocolate,” Christine asked once he parked in front of her apartment building, stealing a sideways glance at him. Although the mask made it difficult to read Erik sometimes, she thought she detected a happy gleam in his eye at her invitation.

 “Of course, Christine. I would love to.”

 Erik reached in the back seat on his way out of the vehicle and picked something up, but she couldn’t tell what he was holding until he came around to her car door. Even though it made her feel a little silly, Erik seemed to get so much enjoyment from opening doors for her that she didn’t have the heart to tell him it really wasn’t necessary. When she got out of the car, though, all thoughts of doors flew out of her head.

 “Erik!” she exclaimed happily. “You got me a present!”

 Seeing Christine’s excitement over the elegantly-wrapped boxes in his hand temporarily robbed Erik of any coherent thought. “Yes,” he agreed with her, “two, actually.” He immediately cringed at having stated the obvious, but his stupidity didn’t seem to bother her, since she slipped her hand into his free one for their short walk up to her apartment.

 When they got inside, Christine hung his coat up next to hers and led him over to the couch, where Erik placed her gifts on the coffee table in front of it. He sat, hoping she would join him, but instead she moved toward the kitchen. “I’ll just get the hot chocolate started, all right?”

 Erik would much rather have the opportunity to cuddle next to her on the couch, but Christine had brought up hot chocolate several times, so maybe it was important to her. “That sounds nice,” he said politely, if not entirely truthfully.

 Just when he started to wonder if he should have offered to help her, she called to him from the kitchen, “Erik, can you come in here?”

 Rising quickly, he made his way to help her, but to his confusion she met him in the doorway, hands empty. When she just looked at him and smiled, Erik started to feel self-conscious. “Did you need help, my dear?” Why was she looking at him like that?

 Still staying silent, Christine raised her gaze to the top of the doorway, and Erik realized there was something hanging there, some sort of Christmas decoration like the ones scattered all over her apartment. He stared blankly at her for a moment longer, and then suddenly realized what she wanted from him.

 Christine blinked in confusion when Erik reached for the mistletoe hanging above them instead of leaning down to kiss her. “Erik, what are you doing?”

 He paused, confusion in his eyes. “I...thought you wanted me to move this for you? Since I’m so much taller?”

 Just managing to bite back her amusement, not wanting to hurt his feelings, Christine shook her head. “That’s mistletoe, Erik.” When he just continued looking at her in confusion, she continued. “You know, when you meet someone under it, you’re supposed to kiss.”

 That certainly got his attention. “You...want to kiss me?”

 Now Christine was the one feeling confused. “Of course?” She and Erik had kissed multiple times over the last two weeks, and she was reasonably confident she hadn’t given him any reason to think she wouldn’t want to repeat the experience. “We’ve kissed quite a few times by now, Erik. Why would you think I wouldn't want to?”

 He glanced away, embarrassed. “I just thought...I wouldn’t want to presume anything.”

 Christine’s heart clenched as she heard what Erik wasn’t saying. Before her attempt to flirt with him under the mistletoe derailed any further than it already had, she simply reached up and pulled him down to her, meeting his lips with hers.

 Although Erik was stiff at first, he soon wrapped his arms around her and began kissing her in earnest, thrilling to the feeling of how tightly Christine was holding him as she eagerly returned his kisses. After a long period of time where they proceeded to get more and more lost in each other, she finally drew back with a shaky laugh, dropping her forehead to his chest.

 “I think the hot chocolate is probably cold by now,” she said with the most musical giggle Erik had ever heard. Truly, every sound she made was perfect to him.

 “I don’t mind,” he replied truthfully, but she laughed again and pulled away as he reluctantly let his arms fall from around her.

 “I’ll heat it back up. Meet you on the couch?”

 Unable to say no to her, he simply nodded.

 *****

 When Christine entered the living room and set the hot chocolate on the table, Erik expected her to sit beside him, but instead she went over to her small Christmas tree and pulled a brightly-wrapped package out from underneath it. Smiling shyly, she brought it over and sat it down next to the presents he had brought for her. Surely it couldn’t be...had she gotten him a Christmas gift?

 Christine smiled at him sweetly after she sat down beside him. “Do you want to open yours first?”

 Erik stared at the gift in shock, unable to believe that this lovely girl had taken the time to buy a present for him. “Open it?” he asked her blankly.

 “Well, yes, that’s what you do with gifts. Haven’t you ever gotten a Christmas present before?” Christine’s grin told Erik she was joking, but he decided he needed to try to collect himself before she realized the sad answer to her question.

 “Why don’t you go first?”

 He didn’t miss the eager gleam in Christine’s eyes. Erik filed away the information that his sweet girl liked receiving presents for future use.

 Christine reached for the smaller of the two boxes, but Erik stopped her by handing her the slightly bigger one first. Wondering if that meant what was in the small box was the better or worse gift, Christine took the package from Erik and tore the lovely paper off.

 “Oh!” she exclaimed happily when she saw that the present was a box of her favorite cookies, from a specialty shop in New York. “Erik! You remembered this, too!” Christine recalled raving about these specific cookies when she had described her last trip to the city to him. How sweet it was to think that Erik had been so attentive to all the little things that she had told him, even when he thought she would never be anything more than his voice student.

 When she picked up the smaller gift, she noticed that Erik’s always-straight posture became even stiffer. Was he nervous about whether or not she would like this present? Intrigued by what that could mean, she peeled the paper of it eagerly, but when she saw the tiny velvet box inside, she started to feel a little nervous herself.

 Was Erik going to propose? Christine knew she loved him, but this...was too sudden.

 Gingerly, she popped the little box open, nervous to see what was inside it. Christine’s first reaction at seeing earrings instead of a ring was relief, but she soon realized the beauty of the pair. Nestled in the box was the most gorgeous jewelry she had ever seen in person, each earring consisting of a round sapphire surrounded by tiny diamonds. This...was decidedly not costume jewelry. Erik must have spent a fortune on these, she thought distantly.

 Erik watched as Christine examined her gift, nervously hoping that she liked the earrings, but when she raised her wide-eyed gaze to his, his heart plummeted. She obviously didn’t like them, or thought they were too much, or maybe she didn’t like him at all and had only agreed to a few dates with him to be nice, and now didn’t know how to tell him that after he had foolishly spent several thousand dollars on jewelry.

 “I’m sorry, Christine,” he said hopelessly, as he started to rise from the couch so he could leave her in peace, but she grasped his arm to stop him.

 “What are you sorry for?”

 “I...it’s obvious you don’t like them. I’m sorry,” he said again. “It was too much. I-”

 To his surprise, Christine stopped his rambling by placing her delicate fingers on his lips. “Erik, I love them. They’re absolutely beautiful.” And to his surprise, she replaced her fingers with her lips, kissing him sweetly and sliding her arms around him.

 As their kiss started to deepen, Christine pulled back just a fraction, and Erik had to bite back a moan at the loss of her lips on his, but she was merely reaching for his mask. However, instead of tearing it off as she had in the past, she paused just before touching it to gently whisper, “May I?”, waiting for his slight nod before untying it.

 She turned away just long enough to set the mask on the coffee table, and then Christine was right back in his arms, but instead of instantly resuming their kiss, she pressed her soft lips to his forehead before kissing his wasted cheek. Even though he knew it was too soon, he couldn't stop the words that left his mouth, prompted by the sweet way she was treating his horrible face.

 “Christine, I love you.”

 The sweet angel in his arms froze, and Erik cursed his stupidity. It seemed he was determined to frighten her off one way or the other tonight. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I know it’s too soon, but I thought you surely knew anyway-”

 Once again Christine cut him off, this time by briefly pressing her lips to his, then pulling back to say, “Erik, it’s all right. I mean, obviously I suspected that you did.” She leaned in for another quick kiss. “And, Erik, I love you too.”

 Erik was completely stunned into silence by the words he had never dreamed Christine would say to him, but she spared him the need to answer by pulling him into another kiss. This one lasted quite some time, until she pulled back for air, leaving her forehead pressed against his.

 Suddenly she gave a little start. “Oh! You haven’t opened your present yet.” Turning away, she reached over to pick it up and hand it to him. Erik took the package from her and merely admired it for a moment, savoring the thought that the girl he loved had actually gotten this for him. Part of him wanted to simply leave it wrapped just like this so he could always have the reminder that Christine had cared enough to get him a gift, but he knew that would not be what she would consider normal behavior.

 When Erik began to carefully remove the paper from his gift, Christine was struck by a sudden thought: he had gotten her both an incredibly thoughtful gift and an extremely expensive, absolutely beautiful one, and she had gotten him-

 “A sweater! Christine, it’s perfect!” Cringing that Erik was being so sweet when she had gotten him the most cliché gift ever, Christine awkwardly tried to explain herself while Erik examined the fitted black garment as if it was the most delightful thing he had ever seen.

 “Sorry, I know a sweater is a little...boring, but I just thought it would look nice on you. And it’s your favorite color,” she finished lamely.

 “Christine! Why would you apologize? This is by far the nicest gift I’ve ever received.” No need to ruin the evening by mentioning it was also the only gift he’d ever received. In a sudden burst of inspiration, he added, “Because it came from you, of course.”

 That was apparently the right thing to say, as Christine threw her arms around him and drew him in for more kisses, the hot chocolate completely abandoned on the coffee table by this point.

 When they finally pulled apart, Christine nestled up against his side, laying her head on his shoulder. “I really am sorry your gift wasn’t more exciting, Erik.”

 “Christine, truly, I love it. I can’t wait to wear it to our celebration on Christmas Day.”

 “Oh, Erik, that is so sweet of you.”

 They lapsed into silence for several minutes, simply holding each other close, until Erik spoke again.

 “Christine?” he asked hesitantly.

 “Yes?”

 “Do you...think you might wear the earrings on Christmas? Do you really like them?”

 “Of course I do, Erik! And I can’t wait to wear them on Christmas.” Christine squeezed Erik’s thin waist in a hug, hoping he could feel just how sincere she was. He responded by wordlessly burying his face in her curls, holding her just as tightly as she was holding him, before finally breaking his silence.

 “I’m so glad you like them. Merry Christmas, Christine.”

 “Merry Christmas, Erik.”

[coffeecomicsgalore]

Navigating the Chaos

Ao3

@adrinetteapril

Chapter 12: Seatmates

Marinette felt like she was in heaven. The kiss was warm and soft and everything she had ever dreamed of. Perfectly soft lips chased hers as the kiss intensified, along with little mewls escaping her once his hand caressed her cheek. She brought her own hands up to his face, sliding them down until they rested against his neck, while her thumbs rubbed soothing circles against his jaw.

Adrien was the first to pull back, resting his forehead against hers as they took in this moment. She felt as though she could kiss him forever, and he felt it too, if the affectionate expression on his face had anything to say about it. They were both about to lean in for more, but the partition opening up between them, along with the vehicle slowing down to a crawl, only solidified the end of their intimate moment of bliss.

“Wow.” Adrien muttered out, continuing to caress her cheek for a moment longer until Gorilla grunted out in attention.

Adrien cleared his throat while Marinette let out a flustered chuckle, before both looking up to check their surroundings.

“Guess we’re here, princess.” Adrien said, straightening out his jacket of any wrinkles. He turned to Marinette who was doing the same, before grabbing her pocket mirror to check for any makeup smudges on her face.

“Beautiful as always.” He acknowledged, and she continued to blush at his words. “The door will open by one of the valets handling the cars. I’m going to step out first and smooth out my jacket. Then I’m going to turn and reach in to help scoot you over to this seat before helping you out. Father said the gown is a highlight to my suit, so he wants you to make a grand entrance.”

Marinette started to panic slightly, but Adrien leaned in for a peck on her lips.

“I will not let you fall, Marinette. Once you grab onto my hand and step out of the car slowly, I will wrap your hand around my elbow for stability and grandeur, and we will walk down the red carpet. We’ll take some photos and answer some questions; it’s going to be okay.”

Marinette nodded her head, but became startled when she noticed something on his lips. She was about to say something when the door opened up, with Adrien immediately winking at her and stepping out of the car. She watched as he stepped in front of the open door so the press could avoid seeing her before it was time, and did his little move while hamming it up for the camera like the model he was. Then he took one step to the right, reached in and held out his hand, waiting for her to grab onto it. She exhaled an anxious breath before smiling and grabbing his hand, scooting herself over carefully until she reached the door. She carefully lifted her legs out of the car and stood up, smiling contently at Adrien like the press wasn’t even there.

“Ready?” He whispered, and she nodded her head slowly.

Adrien wrapped her hand around his elbow and then took one step forward, before hearing the car door close and the car drive off. He paced himself down the red carpet and ensured Marinette followed his lead, never once letting her fall to the wolves alone.

Questions were asked and photos were taken, and Marinette became part of this world she could only dream of being in one day.

“Adrien!” Someone cut through her thoughts and both she and Adrien turned to the voice. Adrien nodded for them to continue. “You look amazing in a Gabriel original as always, but can you tell us who this Mademoiselle if she is wearing a Gabriel original, too?”

“Of course!” Adrien’s grin widened amazingly, and Marinette could only swoon. “Please meet Mademoiselle Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She is my friend, a close confidant, one of the guests of honor at this event, and may I add, a future fashion designer in the making.”

Marinette blushed at his overzealous reaction towards her, but she chose to keep her lips sealed at the moment.

“Future fashion designer in the making?” The press teased, hoping to find more information on the matter.

“Yes, sir. Marinette has worked alongside Jagged Stone creating album covers and accessories for his tour. She has also won a design contest for Gabriel at my school. She designed a derby hat that I wore at the last Gabriel fashion show here in Paris, the one with the feather that had the Audrey Bourgeois in attendance? And while my father, Gabriel, created our amazing ensembles, Marinette had graciously offered a design element that he could not refuse.” Adrien removed himself from Marinette’s grasp and posed elegantly for the camera. “As you can see, both Marinette’s and my garments match with this gorgeous gold applique. She had mentioned that adding the same element to my lapels would bring the entire ensemble together, and he could not agree more. And here we are, wearing a Gabriel original with a Marinette input.”

Adrien stood once again beside her and she placed her hand on his elbow. His acknowledgement of her design input made her dizzy, and holding onto him as she soared from the praise only grounded her.

“Is Mr. Agreste losing his touch?”

“On the contrary!” Adrien chuckled; his eyes filled with a mischievous gleam. “He surrounds himself with the best of the best. For him to take on Marinette’s critique, well, you’ll have to assume he’s working with the best, now, don’t you?” He finished with a wink and the press ate it all up.

“I guess we will be seeing a lot more from you, Mademoiselle.” The press continued as they turned towards Marinette.

“My lips are sealed.” Marinette answered mischievously; Adrien chuckling alongside her.

“We must be off. Thank you for the questions.”

“Thank you for the answers.”

---

“Adrien!” Marinette whispered yelled once they neared a corner of the cocktail space. “What was that!”

Adrien tried to smother his laughter, but Marinette’s scowl only made him laugh harder into his hand.

“I’m sorry, Marinette. But I know you! Sometimes it’s easier to be on the spot instead of knowing ahead of time. In this case, I knew that knowing ahead of time could make you fluff your answers a bit. We wanted you to be genuine.”

“We?”

“My father and I. He was the one who suggested we throw your name out to the press like this.” Marinette furrowed her brows, confused as to why Gabriel would agree to do this. Adrien noticed her silent thoughts and helped ease her discomfort. “Do you remember our conversation about my name being used as a one up for your future?” Marinette nodded. “Well, I spoke to father about that. You see, I’ve been wanting to do this for a while, even before we found out who we are.”

Adrien seemed extremely nervous all of a sudden, his eyes flitting around the room as if he was waiting for someone to interrupt this moment. He let out an anxious breath, finally grabbing onto Marinette’s hands as they trembled slightly.

“I didn’t want to do this here, but I don’t want to wait anymore. Marinette, I’ve liked you for a long time. You managed to wedge yourself into my heart since the beginning, but when we became closer friends, that sealed the deal of my feeling for you. Because… because I got to see this amazing girl who was kind and sweet and creative and everything I could ever love in a girl. And then to find out you were her? It just made me realize that I fell in love with you twice.”

Marinette’s eyes filled with happy tears, tears that she didn’t want to fall and ruin her makeup. So, she chuckled, squinting her eyes in the process in order to stop them from falling.

“The reason I asked father about how we should go about doing this is because I want to ask you to be my girlfriend. I want you to be by my side during these events, to be at my photoshoots, to spend time with me out in public, but I wanted Gabriel’s announcement of you being a talented, future designer to help sway them into realizing you are your own person and that being with me is not the reason you are succeeding.”

Marinette squeezed his hands, hoping that the love she has for him could be felt through her touch.

“So? Will you? Will you be my girlfriend?”

“Of course, Chaton.” She smiled, brightly, and he followed suit. “I couldn’t imagine anyone else I would spend my life with.”

“Perfect. Now I wish I could kiss you, but we haven’t made that public yet. So, we have to wait until later.”

“For you, I’ll wait forever.”

Adrien smiled as the announcement for the gala began, and Adrien walked towards the seats that were reserved just for them.

“I didn’t realize we would be seatmates.” Marinette wondered as Adrien guided her to sit.

“Just for the moment. We have an amateur designer that goes first, before a midline designer, followed by my father. We will have to leave during the midline set to get ready for the show, but I’m already wearing the first outfit.”

“We?” She asked again.

“We. You’ll be walking the start of the show with me. My father didn’t need you to learn the walk, just walk down with me the way we did when we talked to the press, and then I will walk you down to your seat. That’s why we are so close to the stairs. Once I drop you off, I need to go change into the next outfit, before ending with the final design.”

“I’m walking?!” She felt her panic increase, and Adrien leaned down to whisper in her ear, secretly placing a kiss to her cheek.

“I’ll be right there to help you. Do you trust me?”

“Always.”

“Then I will never let you fall.”

[cutegirlmayra]

My first GoChi prompt~

Dragon ball AU - Chichi x Goku

Prompt:

Besides just being a delinquent example to our sons sometimes... I feel Goku really does say some of the most kindest things.

Well, you wouldn’t believe me unless I gave you an example, right? Haha! Guessed right!

It all started on a sunny day when Goku and I went on a drive~

Chichi’s lips are flapping at the wind pressure blasting her back against the passenger’s seat as Goku wildly drives in odd zig-zags that look dangerously close to causing a serious accident.

“Goku! Other way! No, that way!” - “Which way was the lake, Chichi? All this turning is making me dizzy! Haha!” - “You blockhead, watch out for the trees!”

Goku smiled and closed his eyes, exercising his arm in a happy-go-lucky expression as he rotated it to the side of him. “No worries, Chichi! I’ll just knock it out of the way if it comes too close.”

“You’re the one coming close and we will not be punching our neighbors trees!” She gripped the sides of the car, wondering why on earth she spent the last of their savings on getting a car that could retract it’s top down.

In all honesty, she thought that with her boys getting so big, and with Goku consistently wrecking things... she just wanted something less expensive so if he broke it, she wouldn’t worry too much about the cost of fixing it.

“Oh, oh!” she had slacken back down in her seat with a sigh at her poor, grandmother nerves now before excitedly standing up in the car and removing her seatbelt, pointing cheerily to the lakeside. “That’s it! That’s where they saw the giant fish!”

“Ohh, really?” Goku leaned his head to see over her better. “Wow..! I can’t believe our fights created such big craters! And after all so long, they’ve turned into giant lakesides!”

Chichi beamed a grin to him, but kept back her shaky comment with a bead of sweat dripping down her face. “Heh...heheh... yeah... world-destructive battles are just great on a planet that can survive practically extinction.” she muttered to herself, but still leaned her head out as Goku pulled over but braked too hard and she went flying out.

“Ah! Chichi!” He flew out of the car, basically teleporting, and caught a leg as her face still planted against the ground. “Are you okay..?” He pulled her up as she looked a bit exhausted by the endeavor of ever having a ‘nice quiet drive’ with her family.

“I’m fine~” she groaned out, but Goku politely hoisted her up on his shoulder, steadying her there. “Sorry, Chichi. I guess even though I don’t crash anymore, I still gotta work on my aim. Adjusting my power is getting a bit tougher recently with all the special training I’ve been doing. It makes it harder to see and spend time with you too.” He tilted his head with yet another kind smile.

Chichi looked down, some dirt still on her face, but smiling at his sincerity with love.

Don’t think that’s the best he can do, now! My Goku has gotten a lot more sweeter over the years too~ I remember when he first came back from being dead, it was late in the night and I was worried about so many things… Goku didn’t hesitate to give me a sign of his affections though… although I would have rather flowers but giant snapping dragons with ribbons on them were a decent second to say the least!

Well, my memory can be faulty at times. But there’s been many times I’ve felt like the strongest man in the world’s wife! Let’s continue with some of his more, charminger, moments~

Goku set Chichi down as she started setting up a picnic, looking over at him as she spread out the blanket and wondering what he was thinking about, seeing him grip his belt and look out over the water with a serious expression all of a sudden…

He wasn’t one to really contemplate that hard, at least, unless something was seriously wrong. Pricking at her heart strings, she wondered if there was something he wasn’t telling her again… Maybe another giant battle was coming… or maybe he was just hungry?

“If you stare at the lake too long, you’ll never find those fish.” Chichi teased, sitting elegantly on her knees and with her hands in her lap. “Hehe~ You can’t watch a clock either, we’ll bring plenty back for the family dinner! Ah~ It’s been so long since I’ve cooked for everyone! I’m thrilled that unnaturally alien fish have been growing here so we can clean the environment but also have a lovely meal with the family!” She wasn’t expecting that turnout, but if it meant more time to be a ‘normal’ family, she was willing to prepare at whatever cost to make it happen!

Goku just lowered his head, still thinking…

‘Now that is strange,’ Chichi pouted her lips and blinked a few times in confusion, ‘Normally, I can read him pretty well.’ she tilted her head, “Goku? Is something wrong?”

“Emm… Nothing’s wrong, Chichi, just thinking.” Goku looked back at her and gave her yet another open-mouthed, goofy grin. He put his hand behind his head, laughing, “Just thinking about the lake and the sky, is all!”

“Oh? That sounds rather admiring of you.” She wasn’t quite aware that he took time to enjoy the nature and scenery around him. “What’s so special about it? Doesn’t it look just like any lake and sky?”

“...Well… It probably will sound stupid.” He raised his head up, and she knew this was going to be riot. Whatever it was, she giggled sweetly and nodded to him.

“Alright, you big lug, tell me what’s so stupid.” She encouraged, with her own flavor of sweetness. She eyed him tenderly as he looked back at her, and looking into each one of her eyes, lowered his raised hand and itched his nose, as though playing demure.

“Ah, it’s nothing. Really, Chichi.”

“Oh, don’t start that!” Chichi patted the ground by the blanket. “I don’t care what anyone says, you’re not a fool who can’t have his own opinions and thoughts! Even if you aren’t very well educated, you still know the most important lesson in life!”

Her ‘matter-of-factly’ spoken words intrigued him, as he came to hover over to her and then plopped down quite swiftly. His action made wind whirl up and she had to adjust her hair and keep herself seated--”Oh!” she caught herself from being gusted away, but continued to smile like a doting wife.

“But, Chichi… you call me dumb sometimes.” He mentioned innocently.

“I call you a dumb sweetheart.” She stuck her nose up in the air, as though defiant.

“H-how’s that any different?” He looked nervous saying that, but she pinched his cheek and watched him flail a bit in her grasp. “A-ah-wah! Chichi, that hurts!”

“Because I’m your wife, that’s why!” she released her cruel hold on him and then scooted closer to him, cuddling up and leaning on his large, muscled chest. “Now then~” She went back to being her own personal brand of affectionate. “What’s so great about the sky and sea that it takes your attention away from your adorable wife?” she cooed.

“Uhh… the fact that it reminds me of you, I guess.” He relaxed and leaned back, letting her lean on him and holding them both up with his arms keeping them from both falling back. “The sea reflects the sky… or does the sky reflect the blue of the sea?” he wondered, “The lake is so small, kinda like an eyeball.” He then looked down at Chichi, seeing her intently listening to him, her eyes looking up to him. “If I’m the sky, then I can see my reflection in your eyes, Chichi.” He commented, but then looked away as her eyes began to twinkle as though he had swept her off her feet. “But then… doesn’t that mean I reflect you in me? The sky has clouds, which are parts of the sea. Does that mean… even though I don’t know if you can see me in you, that there’s still a piece of you that’s always with me?”

“Oh, Goku!!!~” Chichi charged into him in a tight embrace, almost pushing him back if it weren’t for how his arm was like a steel beam, and wouldn’t knock him over no matter how hard she tried.

“W-woah, Chichi! Are you mad?” he kept one hand extended out and away from her, mostly due to surprise and confusion.

“No, you silly idiot!” she had tears in her eyes, “I just love you so much, you goof!” she tried to hold back her tears but he just blinked down at her.

Then, a smile slowly swept over his face and he sat up, sitting indian-style and embracing her tenderly back, careful to not hold her too tightly.

“I love you too, Chichi.”

And now, you’re all jealous of how good My Goku is!~<3 Well, admit it! He’s the best husband in the world! We did end up catching some giant and ugly alien invading fish, but they and their eggs sure did taste good at our family dinner~

Goku once told me he had thought back to the first day we met… okay, fine, I gave him a friendly knock on the head for him to think harder about that time, and he finally told me how he really was glad he met someone like me. I asked if he had met any other girl he may have married if she had been more adamant about it like I was… I was,... ehem, going through a bit of a phase--but Goku has always held me close, and said the same thing.

“No matter what, I love you, Chichi.”

Now here’s your tissues, cause that’s what love is, people!!! And none of you are ever taking my Goku, or our beautiful family, away from me~

Goku and his family pose for a group picture, and right before the flash and while Goku was leaning down over Chichi’s shoulder to throw up a ‘peace sign’ and grin widely, Chichi jumped up and kissed his cheek.

His face was priceless, a look of innocent surprise, which she framed in her kitchen. Now, whenever she cooks, she opens the window and looks out over the sky… she always gets sad if there aren’t any clouds… but remembers how Goku sees the world… that in her eyes, he’ll always be there, smiling back and saying, “I love you, Chichi.”

[snezfics-n-shit]

it's only been two days and i'm already missing whumptober 😔i am craving sneezefucker phoenix so like... if you're interested 👀

Anon I love you and also of course I’m interested :3

Your wish shall be granted under the cut.

     Phoenix drummed the table with his fingers. He knew Miles wanted to make this a particularly special dinner, being their first night out since Phoenix had earned his badge back, but Miles was taking so long to arrive that Phoenix wondered if there was a mix-up in how the couple interpreted the reservation time.

The hostess took him to his table fine enough, so Phoenix knew he wasn’t the one who had misinterpreted the time. Why didn’t he and Miles just take the car and arrive together? Phoenix sighed through his nose and checked his phone, pleased to see Miles at least sent him an update.

Going to be late, love. Just left my last errand; on my way now. Sincerely, Miles Edgeworth. 

The timestamp was a minute ago, which meant, depending on distance and traffic, Miles could be at the restaurant anywhere from five minutes to a half hour. 

Phoenix took another sip of the sparkling grape juice he thought was in a far too expensive glass for a nonalcoholic beverage. It wasn’t that he couldn’t have ordered wine, which would have been more appropriate; he didn’t even drive, anyway. He just had a hunch that if Miles were to keep him waiting for long, he’d find himself absentmindedly sipping to the point of being inebriated before Miles even arrived. 

He knew well enough it wasn’t polite to stare, but Phoenix found his eyes wandering, imagining what conversations the other elegantly dressed diners could be having. It may not have been the most mature thing to do, but it passed the time.

Was that... Winston Payne and his wife? So it was true Payne’s wife was quite the catch, like an older version of the models Larry would attract somehow. Phoenix ducked his head as soon as Mrs. Payne turned her head in his direction.

“HrnxXT... gh.” The sound of a stifled sneeze perked Phoenix’s ears enough for him to look up.

“Hey, what took you so long?” Phoenix should’ve known the instant he felt his face heat up at the sight of a map of pink on Miles’s face, most prevalent under his eyes, just barely visible behind his glasses. Of course, if Phoenix wasn’t, well, Phoenix, he’d know from the large bouquet Miles was barely hiding behind his back. “Babe, you shouldn’t have.” Miles really shouldn’t have, for both the obvious reason and the fact they were in public.

“Do you like theb?” Miles’s smile contrasting with the clearly irritated features of his face made Phoenix want to stare for a longer time than what would be comfortable. He placed the bouquet carefully in the vase the restaurant had provided for romantic gestures such as this. “Flowers have a whole ladguage, I’ve heard. The florist said... saihhh-- HH’RnnXT!! HhNNXTT... guh. Excuse be. She said this bouquet was perfect for todight.” He sat across from Phoenix, almost giving him a show as he sniffed.

“Uuhh-huh,” was all Phoenix could coax out of his mouth. He anxiously fumbled his hands inside his suit jacket pocket. When Miles helped him pick out his new suit for work, a set of handkerchiefs accompanied the purchase, so at least one of them resided in each pocket Phoenix owned. He normally wouldn’t dare offer one for a purpose other than wiping lingering raindrops off Miles’s glasses, but tissue boxes were not exactly a common find at such an elegant establishment. Without another word, he presented the square of soft cloth with both hands, thinking how he could just die right here.

“Oh, thagk you, sweetheart.” Miles had to use some force to pry the handkerchief from Phoenix’s tight grip. He was just barely in time to use it for an extended stifling effort. “HhrrNNKTT! HnnXTT! HnggXXT!! HggKXTT... gh.” There was a wet quality that could be heard each time he pinched his nose. 

Phoenix would have focused on eye contact with Miles if it weren’t for those glistening allergic tears making his face almost as damp as the handkerchief against his nose. Oh god, he was rubbing his eyes with his thumb and index finger. 

“W-What do you want to order, hon?” Phoenix choked on his words. Miles was doing this to him on purpose, wasn’t he? The prosecutor may have been the type to show his affection with gifts from time to time, but Phoenix would eat his hat if this was merely a romantic gesture. “Um, bless you, by the way.”

“Oh, I’m hardly done.” Miles laughed, again going right for Phoenix’s racing heart. “There’s a lobster dish made especially for couples to share, if you’re interested.”

“I’m very interested!” Phoenix slapped his hand to his mouth and cleared his throat. “In the lobster dish, I mean.” He heard that light wet sniffle that served as a warning another fit was on its way. 

“Just a moment, love.” Miles held the handkerchief slightly farther away, giving Phoenix full view of his twitching pre-sneeze expression. “HiigGXTT! HigkXNTT! HrgxxNTT... kh.”

“I don’t think, um,” Phoenix swallowed, “stifling like that is good for you.”

“Look at where we are.” Miles used both hands to hold the handkerchief when blowing his nose into it. He had to know he was driving Phoenix wild. 

Why wouldn’t he look at where they were?

“Oh, uh, the server’s coming to our table!” Phoenix frantically waved his hand to let the server know he and Miles were ready, desperately needing to take his mind off everything Miles was doing to him. 

“Are you alright, sir?” The server’s voice was gentle enough on Phoenix’s ears to distract him from his mind’s broken record of Miles’s recent stifles. 

“I’m fine, ma’am!” Phoenix blurted out. If he looked anything like how he felt right now, he was sure someone ought to have called an ambulance by now.

“I mean your date.” She smiled.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Miles shrugged. “Just hay fever.”

He said that. He really said that. Yup, Phoenix was definitely going to die here.

The server glanced over at the full vase and made a face without saying anything. She proceeded to take the couple’s order, periodically blessing Miles after every single sneeze interrupting his inquiries on various wines. When she left, Phoenix let out a heavy sigh of relief.

“Why didn’t you take anything, babe? If you really wanted to give me flowers, you could have taken some precautions.” Phoenix avoided saying anything that would make him even more flustered than he was now. Had he already crossed the threshold of merely being flustered? Most likely, yes.

“I was under the impression we would be drinking tonight.” Miles gently dabbed his eyes with one of the few dry corners of the handkerchief. “Antihistamines greatly lower my alcohol tolerance.”

“I thought that was just you being a lightweight.” Phoenix laughed nervously.

“Tonight is very special, after all. Why not celebrate?”

“Yeah, I guess it is.” Phoenix finished off his grape juice so as to not make a waste before the wine would be delivered. “Our first date since I got my badge back. It means so much to me that you’ve been such a great help, to both me and Trucy all these years.” Phoenix caressed Miles’s hands from across the table. “Thank you so much.”

“I think it could be--” Phoenix’s grip tightened as he watched Miles’s expression change, preventing Miles from pulling away for another stifle. “Sweetheart, I need t-to... HH’RRSHHOOOH! HU’RRSHCHOO! H’RRSSHOO!!”

Phoenix was so caught up in his fascination that it hardly dawned on him how quiet his surroundings became after Miles sneezed. Luck was in his favor when he only came back to the moment once the diners shrugged off the noise and returned to their own conversations.

“I hate to say it, but that felt a lot better.” Miles blew his nose again. Did he always get this pink when his allergies were acting up for this long? That shade of pink was taking up a rank in Phoenix’s favorite colors.

The stellar customer service advertised in the online reviews was evident with the quick arrival of both the wine and meal. Other than Phoenix’s quick glance at the server to thank her, he couldn’t keep his eyes off Miles.

He had every opportunity to steal an extra bite each time he saw Miles hopelessly, furiously rubbing under his nose, but he abstained. He thought back to Miles teasing him for being in a similar situation when the two visited Phoenix’s mother, whose family of cats seemed to grow every time they visited her. Of course, the comments Miles made then were mostly regarding the irony of Phoenix’s circumstances rather than the temptation to steal the last slice of Mrs. Wright’s homemade pumpkin pie.

Phoenix felt a pleasurable tingling in his mouth that forced him to smile as he swallowed some wine, not losing eye contact with Miles for even a moment. 

“Phoenix Wright.” Miles using his full name grabbed Phoenix’s full attention to bring him to his senses. “I think I’ve had you on the edge of your seat long enough.”

What was this about? He was messing with him after all, wasn’t he?

“You think?” Phoenix’s voice cracked.

Miles smirked and stood up. He sent Phoenix’s heart out of his chest by leaning forward, face first into the bouquet, looking for something inside. So he meant Phoenix on the edge of his seat just waiting to keel over?

“Ah here it is.” Miles looked up, even more pink and dripping, no, streaming than before. He slid his hand in and out of the vase, making a fist. Whatever he was holding was small enough for him to use the same hand to pinch his nose. “HhgkKXT! HihgxXNTT!!” He let go of his nose and presented his elbow with the duty of muffling his sneezes. “Oh, I cad’t do this ady lohger. HuURSSHHOOOH! Hr’RRSSHOO!” 

“Oh my god.” Phoenix at last allowed himself to say something. He watched Miles crouch down on one knee. “Oh my god.”

Miles smirked; his timing was perfect, as he planned. He prepared himself, nose and all, for what he was so eager to say.

“It’s been an honor, no, a blessing to be your boyfriend.” He waited for the pun to register with Phoenix before he opened his hand to reveal a ring resting on his palm. “Would you further bless me by being my husband?”

Phoenix felt weightless as he took the ring. He knew he was going to accept; why wouldn’t he? In all but legal documents, he and Miles had been essentially married since Phoenix moved in with him eight years ago. But what would he say? Was a simple ‘yes’ too easy? Then it hit him that Miles was going for something here.

In that case,

“Bless you, hon.”

[insomniac-dot-ink]

Just Beyond the City

Genre: wlw urban fantasy

Summary: a young woman moves to a new city where she begins exploring fresh hiking trails, only to hear of something strange in the woods there. Something ancient and dark and that doesn’t belong.

The hiker starts seeing a witch in the woods and wandering closer and closer to whatever this malevolent presence is. A story in three parts.

PART ONE

I liked hiking. I liked it since I was a kid and my mom had to tighten the laces of my boots with both hands and my baseball cap flopped right over my eyes. I liked following her bright purple backpack up the trails with the sound of my shoes crunching on the rocky path. I liked slathering sunscreen on my arms in large creamy dollops. I liked pushing my body up and up and up and feeling those small complaints in my muscles telling me I was moving. I was here. I was living.

Most of all, I liked how inexplicable things were. My mom raised me by herself and I was not an easy kid. I often talked so quickly I bit my own tongue and then cried about it. I was well-liked, but if anyone even looked at me wrong I would come home in tears. I hated being apart from her and the school nurse would often call in the middle of the day saying I demanded her come pick me up. I asked a thousand questions wherever we went: why did the movie end like that? Why does that woman carry her dog that way? Why can’t I be wheeled around in a chair like that person?

I was overly curious. I was sensitive. I was over dramatic. I was clingy. Very few things made sense to me. The outdoors didn’t make sense either, but they did so in a way that was enchanting.

I liked the sounds of birds trilling to each other in a language I couldn’t possibly fathom. I liked the way the wind blew in directions I would never be able to follow. I liked how the trees knew things I never would and how the roots went in thousands of directions at once that I would never fully grasp.

In those mountains, in the trees and the dense forests, and in everything else, I was okay with not knowing.

When I was 26 I moved away from my trees and my mountains and my snow and I found myself on the outskirts of a sprawling metropolis. Normally, people move to LA to try and become starlets or script-writers or big-time directors. I had never dreamed of being an actress since I threw-up if too many people looked at me at once and definitely didn’t think I was pretty enough. I simply went because the Franklin Law Firm was the first one that offered me a position.

There were plenty of lawsuits in California, enough that even a small-town girl from Montana could find work right out of law school. It took their bar exam. I passed. I applied. It was a change.

The sky was piercingly blue and the air thick with smog and people all moving and chatting and absolutely littered everywhere. It reminded me of watching ants troop back and forth on their hills, making lines, and zig-zags, and following invisible cross-walks. Things were busy.

I felt it in my veins and through my head and just underneath my tongue, like a metallic aftertaste, as I drove through the slow-moving traffic. That “busy” was everywhere. The streets were sun-soaked and warm with thumping feet. The wind carried noises of dogs barking and music playing and life going on. I had to take deep breaths until I took a right and started driving away from the “busy.”

I was so grateful that instant for being a hiker. My mom had suggested it, she had always been my beacon to follow, and I took an apartment almost forty-five minutes away from my work on her advice. The commute wasn’t going to be fun.

However, it was worth it. Away from the thick smoggy crowds of buildings and youthful men in cut-off jean shorts and beautiful women in shirts that showed off their flat bellies. I passed residential neighborhoods with immigrant families and struggling playwrights and then up past gated communities with green cut lawns and paychecks that looked like lucky numbers on fortune cookies.

Finally, I passed right up toward a ridge outside the city. I would bite off my own tongue before I’d call it a mountain (as some people there did), but it was luckily a little bigger than a hill.

I exhaled as I got closer to the hiking trails and there were finally bigger gaps between the houses. I was so grateful I chose this over convenience. It was different of course, the bushes were dusty and barren, and the trees were squat and barely greened. But it was outside the business of the city.

I smiled at the trails as I pulled up to a grey apartment building with concrete balconies and four stories just below it. I got out of my little Nissan and peered up toward my new home. It would have to do. I got out the keys I had received earlier that day and found my way inside to the fourth floor.

It was a decent modern building with air-conditioning on high and big mirrors in the elevator with shiny metal panels on the sides. I found my way to my room where I opened it to find the same modern aesthetic with a sleek silver refrigerator and a simple metal bed frame left behind from the last tenants. I wondered around the boxy rooms each with one or two windows and bare floors. It had the feeling a bit of pre-packaged meals, neat, and tidy, and underwhelming, but it would do the trick.

I went back outside and started unpacking.

I heaving up boxes from the trunk of my car and it was only on my second trip up that I realized someone was watching me. He was outside on the sidewalk and stood perfectly still as I got out my next box. He had a strong jawline thick with stubble across his face and neck. I looked to either side of me to check that he was staring at me and not some other girl in a bikini standing behind me.

“Need some help there, new neighbor?” He finally called out with a wave. “Uh,” I fumbled with the box for a moment and tried to come up with an excuse to shake him off.

“Don’t worry.” He smiled. “Not a stalker. I just knew I’d be getting someone new across the hall from me. I was just checking to see if you needed anything.” “Uh,” I repeated again elegantly. I was definitely a lawyer. “Sure.” I said after a long pause. “Always nice to meet... neighbors.” He came over and helped me with another box. I wondered if the stranger danger alarms in my head should start going off at that point, but they never seemed to. He was wearing North face gear and smelled like the ocean and was relatively benign.

He just took a box and started chatting, “yeah, I can tell you about all the good restaurants you have to drive thirty-minutes to in order to reach from here.” “Ah,” I said as he slowly made our way back inside. “I thought it’d be pretty far away from things. Yeah.” “You come in for Hollywood?” He said with interest.

I just snorted. “Not even.” We talked about work and the price of gas and the area for another few minutes. His name was Doug and he had lived there for three years and was still a waiter/aspiring actor himself. He liked my leather bracelets.

“So,” I finally brought up what I really wanted to talk about. “How’s the hiking around here?” “Dunno.” Doug shrugged. “I wouldn’t go near the stuff nearby. Like I said, most good things are a thirty-minute drive at least.” I furrowed my brow and looked over my shoulder at him. “You don’t go up Timber Ridge? Online said it had some nice views.”

He looked away and waved a hand through the air. “Nah.”

“Why not?” I asked a little too hastily.

“I mean,” his eyes darted left and right. “Look, I’m not superstitious or anything, but...” “But?” I gave him a focused look.

He shrugged again, “I’ve heard some weird stuff about it.” His eyes darted back and forth, “weird even for this place I mean.” I made a face, “should I be worried about a serial killer on the loose?” One of my mom’s new favorite hobbies was reminding me about all the serial killers that came from California. “No. I mean like,” he placed my box down outside my new apartment door. His brow bent innards and he whispered slowly. “They’ve been finding... stuff.”

I bounced my eyebrows up and down, I tried not to smirk, “monster stuff?” “Bloody rags.” He said solemnly, “rocks with strange symbols, plants that shouldn’t be here, bones, and I dunno... bad vibes.” He cleared his voice and leaned forward so much so that the air hummed with his discomfort. “They say it’s a witch.” “A witch?” I tried not to laugh.

Doug sniffed, “just saying.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Though I’d rather be eaten by her than take the interstate 405 again.” He changed the subject back to complaining about traffic after that and I let him.

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

I didn’t see any witches the first time I went up Timber Ridge. I didn’t see much of anything actually. 

The path was dusty instead of crunchy, the bushes were low to the ground and mostly leaf-less and dry, the trees were tiny and hid nothing from the eye. If my tall forests back home were thick with greenery and secrets, LA nature was brittle and easy to digest.

There weren’t that many bird sounds, but even from that high up sometimes I still heard honking and sirens and voices from someone’s open window. I still wasn’t that far from the city.

I ached from sleeping on the floor in my sleeping bag because I hadn’t bought a new bed yet. I had also for some reason given Doug my number and he kept texting me-- which felt like a game of jeopardy I accidentally entered where I didn’t know any of the right answers. I was sore and not particularly impressed with my new living situation. I missed my mom. I missed my dog.

I missed my mountains.

I frowned at it all as I climbed. The path was long at least and for moments at a time dipped down far enough that the city itself disappeared. After an hour I finally climbed up far enough that I reached the top of the ridge and I did have to stand there in awe.

My mouth fell open gently and the weight in my chest shrunk to nothing. It was probably because it was dawn and there was always something selfless about dawn: it gave and it gave and it gave.

The sun shimmered in long pink and orange streaks behind me and just beyond the city was an expanse of ocean that ate up my vision. An ocean vast and smooth and heart-stoppingly creamy blue. I had gone to the ocean once when I was a kid, but it had been cold and unfriendly and the waves were too big. Now, it was the backdrop to something that made my eyes water.

I sniffled and wiped at my tears as they fell. It was probably because I missed my mom and my dog and hated my new city, but that didn’t stop me from wiping at my cheeks and tasting salt. I cried at that sunset on the first day.

Finally, I turned around and something flitted dark and swift in the corner of my vision. I jerked my head around and there was something on the ground. It was transparent and yet tangible, like clothe. Dark. It was something I could only call a “shadow” that lingered long and twisted across the ground. It seemed to dance across the path with no end for a long second. I looked up quickly to try and catch it’s source, but nothing but the small trees and dusty bushes remained.

“Hello?” I said, but nothing responded.

I touched my left elbow and turned around in tight circles. When I stopped I got one last look at it slipping away. There was a shadow staring back at me: hollow eyes and hollow mouth and a gaping frozen expression caught in some unknowable stomach-clenching emotion. I gasped lowly, took a step back, and when I blinked again it was gone.

I hurried away from that spot. I chalked up the strange vision to too much crying and not enough breakfast that morning.

I didn’t see a witch on the ridge that first day or at least or, at least, I didn’t think I did.

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

part 2 coming soon! 

So all of my hours were cut at my job bc of coronavirus, if you enjoyed my writing please, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi or becoming a patron I could really use the help!

[vintagevalentinex]

Please

Alright so here is the sequel to Smile!  For a while I was really struggling to figure out how to write a continuation of that story because I really wanted to.  I had two ideas in my head, and knew that both were probably going to play out anyway, so I just started writing and here we are.  I hope you all like it!

I used two songs in this story as my inspiration.  The first is The Man That Got Away sung by Judy Garland.  You can hear that here.

The second song I used is Thank You by Led Zeppelin.  You can hear that here.

I strongly encourage that you listen to the songs so you get an idea of the mood of the story!

Let me know if you want a third story.  I already have something loosely in mind! :)

@bovaria

@icecream-and-winchesters​

@abaddonwithyall​

Title: Please Author: vintagevalentinexx Words: ~1660 Pairing: (Dean x Reader) Warnings: Angst.  A smidgen of fluff.  And then more angst.

You tidied up a little in your small apartment, clad only in a tanktop and panties, just about ready to turn in for the night when you hear a knock at the door.  You furrow your eyebrows.  Who the hell is knocking at this time of night.  I don’t even know anybody in this bumblefuck of a town.  You grab your gun off the coffee table, taking quiet steps towards the door, cursing everything as you wish you had a peephole on the door.  Great, I guess I’ll just wing it.  Gun in one hand, you pull the door open wide, gun cocked right in the knocker’s face.  It takes you a moment, but you finally lower your weapon, eyes full of confusion and sadness.

“How did you find me?” …. …. …. “Hello, sweetheart.”  

The night is bitter, The stars have lost their glitter; The winds grow colder And suddenly you’re older - And all because of the man that got away.

No more his eager call, The writing’s on the wall; The dreams you dreamed have all Gone astray.

You stand there unspeaking, unable to form any words, your mind racing a million miles an hour, wondering how on earth Dean could have found you.  You deliberately covered your tracks, trying to get off the grid and off of the hunter’s network as much as possible.  Clearly your hard work was in vain because in front of you were those gorgeous, forest green eyes that you thought you’d never see again.

Dean shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes slowly taking you in.  It had been so long since he’d seen you, been with you, that he couldn’t help himself as his eyes slowly raked over your form.  You were so beautiful.  And it wasn’t just because he could never take your eyes off of you when you wore those particular pair of jeans.  It was because of the way you smiled, the way you twirled your hair between your fingers when you were bored, the way your laugh twinkled in his ear.  There were so many beautiful things about you, but you were still one of the fiercest hunters he’d ever met.  You were predatory and aggressive while you hunted; that would never be debated, but the way you moved, you stalked elegantly and graceful, almost feline in your approach.

It was mesmerizing.  And he was completely captivated by you.

The man that won you Has gone off and undone you. That great beginning Has seen the final inning. Don’t know what happened. It’s all a crazy game! No more that all-time thrill, For you’ve been through the mill - And never a new love will Be the same.

He chewed on his lip as he waited for you to say something.  Anything.  You continued to look at him, still in shock that he was standing right in front of you.

Dean’s eyes finally met your own.

“So…uh…ya gonna let me in?”

And you slammed the door in his face.

You leaned back against the door, knowing that he was still there, a loud groan signaling his presence.

“C’mon (Y/N) don’t be like that!  At least talk to me.”

You rolled your eyes, taking a deep breath, everything that you and Dean shared rushing back to you.  You tried to blink away a few stray tears, biting the side of your finger, otherwise you know a sob would escape past your lips.

Why did he have to show up?  It’s hard enough dealing with this alone every day.  Doesn’t he know how hard this is for me?!

“Please…Please, (Y/N).  At least say something.”

Good riddance, good-bye! Ev'ry trick of his you’re on to. But, fools will be fools - And where’s he gone to?

The road gets rougher, It’s lonelier and tougher. With hope you burn up - Tomorrow he may turn up. There’s just no letup the live-long night and day!

You continued to stare there, trying to slow down the rapid beating of your heart.  You pressed the back of your head to the door, closing your eyes, everything from the past couple of months brought back to the front of your mind.  There was no denying that you missed him.  You had thought it would get easier as time went on, but you were finding that it was actually becoming more and more difficult without him.  The day you left it was as if you left a part of yourself in that bunker, somewhere between the cheeseburgers and the ancient books of lore is where it resided.  It was somewhere in the garage, lingering in the impala, and on the old speakers that Dean and you rigged up to dance like idiots all through the bunker.  

You fought a smile, shaking your head, knowing that being with him again meant more pain, being ignored, and loud, boisterous fights.  Could he change?  Would he ever be different?  Could he be different for me?

“Please, (Y/N).  Don’t tell me that you can’t remember a single time when we were happy!”

It was a chilly late September night when Dean practically abducted you out of the bunker to take a ride with him. (“Where are we going, Dean?  I have a lot of work to get done in the library.  Can’t we just go back to the bunker?”  “Live a little, (Y/N), you’re becoming a little too attached to that library.  Can’t have you turning into a girl version of Sammy.”)

He wouldn’t tell you where you were going so you just leaned your head on the window of the impala, smiling to yourself as you listened to Dean sing off-key to a Led Zeppelin song:

If the sun refused to shine, I would still be loving you. When mountains crumble to the sea, there will still be you and me.

Kind woman, I give you my all, Kind woman, nothing more.

Little drops of rain whisper of the pain, tears of loves lost in the days gone by. My love is strong, with you there is no wrong, together we shall go until we die. My, my, my. An inspiration is what you are to me, inspiration, look… see.

And so today, my world it smiles, your hand in mine, we walk the miles, Thanks to you it will be done, for you to me are the only one. Happiness, no more be sad, happiness….I’m glad. If the sun refused to shine, I would still be loving you. When mountains crumble to the sea, there will still be you and me.

He would look at you every so often, singing the lyrics to you while you giggled, his hand ever so present on your knee as the both of you drove into the night.   After what seemed like at least an hour of driving, Dean had finally pulled over onto the side of the road, looking at you and waggling his eyebrows before he drove the impala into the field beside the highway.  You looked at him inquisitively and all you got in return was one of his shit-eating smirks that drove you crazy.  You rolled your eyes as you watched him get out of the car to rifle around in the trunk.  He finally came around to your side, wrenching your door open so you were blasted with the chill of the night.  He produced a blanket that you were about to snatch from him but he moved it out of your reach, taking your hand into his as he pulled you around to the front of the car.

You huffed at him, Dean chuckling under his breath as he laid the blanket out on the hood of the car, turning to you and picking you up by your hips, depositing you onto the hood.  He climbed up beside you, shrugging his jacket off to drape it around your shoulders, pulling you close to the heat of his body.

“This is all I need.  You and Baby.”

“Who are you talking to, Dean?  Me or the car?”

He chuckled.  “What could be better?  My baby on top of Baby.  This is the life.””

You rolled your eyes, your lips parting into a smile.

“You’re an idiot.”

“But I’m yours.”

“Please, (Y/N).  Just let me know you’re there.”  His voice sounded strangled, the way you know it sounded when he was trying to choke back tears.

“Please…”

You shook your head, holding yourself, your arms wrapped around your body as you blinked back a few more tears, knowing that this was the best for the both of you.  He just didn’t know it yet, but you knew eventually that he would understand that you were doing something for the both of you.  You were trying to be strong for the both of you so he could save the world like he always had to.  He did not need you as another thing to worry about in his life, and it was hard enough to be with him during the good times.

As you went to go throw on a pair of pajama bottoms your heart began to race, all of the memories too overwhelming to stop thinking about.  Maybe you were wrong.  Maybe you should just hear him out.  It was kind of a dick move to leave him at the door like that. As your hand reached the doorknob, your heart race, not knowing what to expect, not knowing what kind of outcome this was going to have.  Hopefully you could just get him out of your system if you heard him out and saw him one last time.

You turned the knob, pulling the door open, mumbling something about how he could come inside if he wanted to.

Ever since this world began There is nothing sadder than A one-man woman looking for The man that got away…. The man that got away.

But he was gone.

Read Part 3

[hurt-care]

Some more historical hay-asthma fluff with my OC Francis and his lady, Caroline. Set in the late 1800s/turn of 1900s. If you haven’t met him before, you can read my prior fics about him here and here.

-

At long last, Francis had escaped the choking air of London and settled permanently as the owner of some lands near Plymouth with his new bride, Caroline. They'd been married only a few months, joined in matrimony at the local chapel in late October when Francis' health was at its strongest. They'd settled into a modest but elegant seaside cottage with six bedrooms for welcoming guests and an expansive plot of land around it providing privacy. Most of the time, the home was occupied by just the couple and a handful of staff who worked during the day and lived in much smaller homes down in the nearby village.

The staff always arrived early enough to have the morning coffee and breakfast before they rose at a leisurely hour and took their meal in the dining room. The winter by the ocean had been harshly cold but happy and quiet in the new estate. They'd welcomed Francis' cousin from Leeds for a week-long stay and had entertained a magistrate passing through on his way to France. Now, as the months turned towards spring, Caroline gently instructed the new staff about the precautions to take when it came to Francis' sensitive health. Though Plymouth generally provided relief from the majority of his symptoms, occasional turns of weather could bring about an attack of Francis' severe hay-asthma.

It was a beautiful early June day when Caroline rolled over in bed and reached an arm out for her husband, who lay still asleep. She pressed her lips to his shoulder in a kiss and he smiled faintly in his sleep.

“Francis,” she said softly.

“Mhm?” he murmured, waking to the sound of her voice.

“We're due at the Petersons this afternoon, love,” she said. “Better be up and dressed soon. Thomas says it's about a half hour drive.”

They'd been invited for tea at the estate a few kilometers away at Westhart Cliffs. The Petersons were another young couple and Caroline had been childhood friends with the wife, Lady Amelia. They'd moved to Westhart around the same time Francis and Caroline had taken up their own residence.

Dressed and ready with a gift of plum cake carefully packaged by their cook, the couple climbed into their motorcar and the valet, Sean, took off along the cliffside road.

It was an easy drive down to Westhart with rolling fields on one side and the sea on the other. When they slowed in the approach to the house, Caroline took Francis' hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Ready?” she asked, smiling at him. He had a tendency to be a little shy around those he did not know well.

“Of course,” he said, smiling back at her. “It's tea and conversation and then back home before we know it.”

“That's the spirit!” she teased, clapping him on the leg.

“No, in all honesty I'm quite looking forward to seeing the place. I've driven by before but never been inside.”

They peered out of the motorcar's window as they creaked to a halt out front of the imposing manor's front door. A butler appeared to greet them as Sean put the car in park and came around to open the door.

“Mr. And Mrs. Miller,” the butler said, bowing slightly. “Welcome to Westhart. Lord and Lady Peterson will receive you in the atrium.”

Francis raised an eyebrow as he looked at Caroline.

“That will be lovely, thank you,” Caroline replied, smirking back at her husband as she read his thoughts. An atrium was certainly a divinely decadent addition to a manor home.

They followed the butler through the long, impressive entryway and down a hallway out into an airy room with large glass windows along the far side. Above, a portion of the ceiling was an impressive peak of glass panes that filtered light into the room. A small tea table was set in the centre and nearby stood Lord and Lady Peterson, dressed elegantly in white and linen for summer. Around the room arched large ferns and exotic palms with their leaves stretched towards the sunny windows.

“Thank you for having us, sir,” Francis said in greeting, extending his hand to Lord Peterson as Caroline and Amelia embraced nearby. He turned his attention to Lady Peterson and gave a small bow. “And Lady Peterson, I've heard so much about you from Caroline.”

“Call me Amelia, please,” she said with a cheerful laugh. “I hope she's told you only the flattering things.”

Caroline laughed and gripped Francis' arm affectionately.

“Of course, Amelia.”

“And I've heard much about you, Francis,” Amelia said. “Congratulations on your wedding. I'm so sorry we were out of the country during the festivities.”

“Yes, an odd time of year for a wedding,” Lord Peterson said.

“We love autumn,” Caroline said confidently as Francis stood feeling awkward at her side. The real reason, of course, had been to avoid him being unwell during a spring or summer wedding, but they had not widely publicized that fact.

“I'm sure it was divine,” Amelia chirped. “Should we sit for tea? I'll ring for the service.”

She tugged on a nearby sash to summon the servants and they all took seats around the table.

“Mrs. Miller had told us you ran a successful venture in London, Mr. Miller,” Lord Peterson said conversationally as a maid wheeled in a tea cart laden with goodies and the tea set.

Francis cleared his throat and gave a small rub to his left eye.

“Ah, yes, I did,” he replied. “It was my father's business and I took over when he passed. However, I much prefer the climate of Plymouth and when I asked Caroline to marry me, it was with the understanding that I'd sell that venture. So I've closed up shop there permanently and I've taken on some smaller private clients here and by correspondence. Come winter, I may spend some time in London but only as business requires.”

“Quite right,” Lord Peterson said as the maid began to pour tea into fine china cups. “I myself had some dealings in London but I agree that Plymouth is a much finer place to have a home. We hope to start a family of our own here.”

At his side, Amelia blushed and smiled with a knowing look at Caroline.

“We are quite enjoying our new home down the way,” Caroline chimed in. “I've been busy selecting new curtains for the bedrooms and we're having an heirloom piece sent up from my mother and father's home next week; a lovely mahogany wardrobe that belonged to my grandfather.”

Heh-TSCHPMF!

Francis turned away from the tea table suddenly, shuddering with an explosive sneeze. The Petersons jumped at the unexpected sound and next to him, Caroline bit her lip worryingly.

“Bless you, Mr. Miller!” Lord Peterson said.

Eh-TSGH!

“Goodness, I hope you're not ill!” Amelia chimed in.

Francis flushed with a familiar embarrassment at the situation.

“Excuse me,” he murmured, reaching for his trusty handkerchief and dabbing his nose politely. “No, I'm quite well.”

“These tea cakes look delicious, Amelia,” Caroline remarked, reaching for one the petit-fours from the centre serving tray.

“Our Mary does such a nice job with pastries,” Amelia replied proudly. “This plum cake you brought is also divine. You'll have to have your girl send over the recipe.”

“How are you finding the village, Mr. Miller?” Lord Peterson asked.

“You may call me Francis,” Francis replied softly, tucking his handkerchief away. “I'm finding the people very agreeable, sir. We're due to collect rents next month so I imagine I'll get to know a good deal more of the people but the ones we've had dealings with are very kind.”

He cleared his throat softly and reached to take a sip of his tea.

“We've taken on two lads and two girls from the village in service along with a cook and a valet,” he added. “They've all proved to be good workers so- heh---so...heh-TSGH!”

He turned away to smother another sneeze into his cupped hands.

“Oh do excuse me,” he murmured, blushing again. Under the table, Caroline gave his leg a comforting squeeze as she looked around at the exotic plants and wondered if they were proving irritating to Francis' delicate system.

Lord Peterson did not acknowledge this sneeze but instead nodded approvingly.

“That's good to hear. We have a few lads here from our local village that have also proved very helpful.”

“But our Mary is actually the daughter of our old cook Margaret, from back at my family home,” Caroline chimed in.

Hurh-TSGHHT!

Francis turned away again, convulsing with yet another sneeze. He stayed leaning away from the tea table, hands still poised over his mouth and nose. The reason quickly became evident as he launched into a ticklish fit of sneezes that shook him violently with each wrenching outburst.

Hurhh-TSGHT! Ngh-GSHT! Tsh-GHT! 'GHT! Ehh-heh-GHTTT!

He pushed back his chair, standing and stumbling away from the table with his handkerchief to his nose

“My apologi—ehh-GHHTT!”he choked out between sneezes.

“Bless you! My goodness!” Amelia said breathlessly, astonished at the spectacle.

“Are you sure you're quite alright?” Lord Peterson asked, concerned.

Francis' eyes were now red and swollen and streaming with tears as he sneezed several more times in rapid succession.

Ngh-GHXHT! Heh-tshCHTT! Heh-TSCHT! Tsh-GHT!

Caroline stood and went to his side, putting a steadying hand on his back.

“It's the plants?” she asked softly. “Should I make our excuses.”

“Please,” rasped Francis miserably, snot flooding from his nose. He dabbed it with the handkerchief and then covered it again to catch another ticklish sneeze.

Heh-TSCHXHTT!

“Go wait in the hall,” she said quietly into his ear. “I'll say our goodbyes and have them get Sean to bring the car back around.”

Francis rushed for the door, the sound of sneezing echoing in the hall as he left.

“I'm so very sorry,” Caroline said, turning back to their hosts. “I neglected to tell you the severity of dear Francis' condition. He suffers so terribly from hay-asthma and rose-cold and we can never be certain when he's going to have a bad turn this time of year. He finds relief here in Plymouth but sometimes he still suffers spells. I think maybe your exotic foliage did not agree with him.”

“Oh no!” Amelia cried. “We can have the servants move the tea service into the parlour.”

“I'm afraid now that he's having an attack, it'll be a day before he can fully recover. It's best if we return home for him to rest and take his treatments.”

“I wish we'd known,” Lord Peterson said. “Poor chap.”

“He's so terribly embarrassed by it,” Caroline explained. “If you could be so dear as to have our car brought around, I know he'll want to go at once. It makes such a mess of him, he can't bear to have others see.”

“Absolutely,” Lord Peterson replied, heading off to ring for a butler. “Please offer my apologies to your husband. We would not have chosen this room for tea had we known.”

“It's a lovely room,” Caroline said. “I would have chosen it too. Some plants have no effect on him at all, so we never can tell.”

“I do hope he doesn't suffer greatly,” Amelia said sweetly. “He looked dreadful.”

“It is a rather uncomfortable affliction,” Caroline agreed. “He can scarcely get his breath between all the sneezing sometimes.”

“You are a saint for seeing to him,” Amelia said.

Caroline blushed.

“No, not at all. Though I do feel so terribly bad he suffers so much. That's why we chose to marry in the fall, because this season can be so unpredictable for his health.”

“The car should be coming around shortly,” Lord Peterson said, returning from a conversation with his butler. “Can we see you out?”

“I think Francis would prefer a quiet escape, if you don't mind,” Caroline said.

“Of course,” Amelia replied. “Please, send him our good wishes and we'll have you back for tea in the parlour another time.”

She kissed Caroline on the cheek and Lord Peterson gave a bow and kissed Caroline's hand.

With the farewells said, Caroline rushed to the hall to find Francis leaning heavily against a wall with his handkerchief under his dripping nose. His eyes were swollen and puffy.

“Oh love,” she said softly. “I'm sorry. I had no idea. I've made our excuses and Sean should be out front.”

He nodded wearily and followed her out to the front foyer. Outside, Sean was waiting with the car running and he opened the door for them to climb in. Francis sunk down into the seat with a sigh and gave his nose a short, damp blow.

“Okay, home,” Caroline soothed, settling next to him.

Eh-SGHHT!

Francis shuddered with another wrenching sneeze and then took a shaky, wheezy breath.

“How's your chest?” Caroline asked.

Hurh-TSGHH!Tsh-GHT!

Once he was able to speak, Francis shook his head and sniffled thickly.

“It's okay,” he rasped. “A little tight.”

“Okay, just try to get little breaths,” she coached. “How can I help?”

“You don't happen to have a handkerchief?” he asked. His was nearly completely sodden.

Caroline reached for her own from its usual place tucked into her dress and came to the terrible realization that she'd neglected to bring it.

“I'm so sorry, sweet,” she said.

“It's okay,” Francis croaked, pressing the damp one to his nose again. His poor nostrils were getting red and raw from the moisture.

“Do you want to try to rest?” she asked. “You can lean against me.”

“Maybe,” he said wearily, clearly exhausted from the attack. He let his head rest back against her, closing his eyes. She stroked his hair back from his face and thumbed away a few stray tears from around his swollen eyes. He snorted thickly and coughed a few times, now getting so congested he could barely get a breath through his nose. He leaned forward once more, sneezing thickly.

Hurh-TSGHHHT! Heh-TSCHMFFF!

Caroline felt her stomach pang in sympathy and she rubbed his back as he blew his nose futilely.

But the time they reached their home, he was so congested and swollen and miserable that she had to lead him inside because he was nearly blind with allergic tears. They'd given the staff the day off since they'd planned to be out all afternoon, but now Caroline was alone save for Sean who had gone to put the car away. He'd offered to send for the doctor, but that wasn't yet necessary.

She got Francis up to their bedroom and seated in an armchair with a fresh handkerchief from his wardrobe at hand. He coughed ticklishly and she put a hand to his chest, feeling for the wheeze. For now, it was light.

“Better get your inhaler,” she said softly. He nodded, knowing that the asthma would get worse later in the evening as it always did. “I'll get some water for your face too.”

He nodded again, wiping his dripping nose with the new dry handkerchief and triggering more wrenching sneezes.

Hruh-TSGCHMFFF! Ngh'TSGHHH!

Caroline kissed the top of his head and went to the kitchen, setting a pot of water to boil for the inhaler and gathering a basin of warm water with some cloths for Francis' swollen eyes. With everything balanced on a tray, she went back upstairs to find him slumped wearily in the chair, audibly wheezing.

“It's okay,” she soothed as he coughed and clutched at his chest in discomfort. “Here we are.”

She poured a mixture of medication into the steaming water in the ceramic bulb and held it out for him to inhale. He took a long, slow puff and struggled to keep the vapour in his lungs. Finally, he gave into coughing and she rubbed his back, whispering soft reassurances. He was sweaty-faced and spent, unable to find any comfort. When he finally stopped coughing, he leaned into her touch and sighed.

“You don't deserve this,” he rasped.

“I love you,” she said, kissing his brow. “Every bit of you. Now, quiet. We need to get you well again.”

She sponged his swollen, itchy eyes with a rag dipped in warm water and then gave him a mixture of quinine to snort. He tried futilely to inhale it but he was too congested to get much into his sinuses. Wrinkling his nose, he sneezed into the handkerchief and gave his tender nostrils another careful wipe.

Heh'TSCHFFT!

He was so weary that his eyes were fluttering shut but he could not get comfortable enough to sleep. He stood, pacing the room as he coughed occasionally, bracing himself against his chair or the bed or the wardrobe. Caroline hovered nearby, feeling utterly useless.

“Do you want to try to sit a little?” she asked as he tended to his nose with his handkerchief again.

“It's easier,” he rasped. “Breathing....if I stand....but I'm so tired.”

“I know, love,” she soothed. “Come here.” s

As he passed her in his fevered pacing, she wrapped her arms around him, letting him put his weight into her, and held him as he let his head hang over her shoulder. He coughed miserably and she felt him shuddering in her arms, but she held tight, rocking gently back and forth. He wheezed a sigh and tried to pull away, but she held on.

“Caroline,” he gasped.

“It's fine. Rest.”

Heh-tGXHT!

He stifled a sneeze against her shoulder.

“Caroline....” he said again with more urgency.

“I don't mind,” she whispered, stroking his back. His chest expanded and he pitched into her with another sneeze.

Heh-SGHHHT!

“I need to....the chair,” he wheezed. She guided him over to it and he gripped the top, leaning over the high wingback and bracing against it as he coughed again. She rubbed his back more, leaning her cheek against his ribs and hearing the whistle of wheezing.

She held up the inhaler and he took another puff of the steam. The coughing eased a little and he paused to give his nose a blow, wincing as he did. His nose was glowing red and raw now, completely irritated and tender from all the moisture and wiping.

“Should we see if you can get a little sleep?” she asked gently. “I can get your pyjamas.”

He shrugged.

“Yes, maybe,” he said quietly. “I am breathing a little easier.”

She retrieved a set of his pyjamas from the wardrobe and helped him out of his trousers and shirt into the soft linen bottoms and matching top.

“There,” she said, buttoning the last button on the pyjama top. “One more treatment and then you can rest.”

He took another puff from the ceramic inhaler and then followed her sleepily towards the bed. He sat down on the edge and watched her through swollen, half-closed eyes as she tugged off her dress and he reached to help loosen her corset so she could remove it. When she was just in her bloomers and shift, she climbed into bed and reclined against the headboard, guiding Francis to lay against her chest propped up. He closed his eyes and settled into her embrace, breathing noisily but clearer than before. Soon he was asleep, snoring softly, completely exhausted from the attack. She closed her own eyes, comforted by the weight of him against her and the knowledge that she'd be close at hand if he woke with another flare of asthma in the night as he often did.

Thankfully, he slept soundly and when he did wake, it was to nothing more than some slight irritation around his nose and some residual itching in his throat. They settled down in the bed, reclining further, and fell back into a peaceful sleep once again.

[papipopsicle]

NOT WARRIORS PART TWO

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: In which the reader's parents are going through a rough patch, it takes it's toll on her, and they decide it's best for her to stay with family friends on the other side of America. Y/N and Billy aren't the same since they last saw each other, but somehow they are.

Song: Sunnyland by Mayday Parade

Warnings: swearing

Words: 2K

PART ONE

feedback is always appreciated

Three days.

That's how long it took for the plain walls of Billy's bedroom to drive Y/N positively insane. The garden was an overgrown jungle she didn't dare venture into, and being anywhere else in the house meant seeing and then speaking to Neil. For as long as her memories stretched, her best friend's father played the facade of a perfect gentleman in front of neighbours and friends, but she only saw the reptile that lay so close to the surface. The mere thought of him made her skin crawl like a thousand swarming fire ants.

Billy was either at school causing trouble, or out with his new friends causing trouble, only a few minutes each day spare for his best girl. It wasn't intentional, but the fact that Max even played Monopoly with her out of pity was making Y/N's eyes itch to see further than the boundaries of the small property.

"Y/N?" A gravelly voice sounded from the doorway questioningly. It was early and her clothes covered every single surface of the tiny bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed with a vanity mirror facing the window, a light blue fluffy towel hugged to her body while her damp y/h/c hair fell in ringlets down her covered back. She put down whatever makeup utensil her hand held and turned to see Billy with a look of horror etched into his features.

A small scoff exited her lips and Y/N went back to applying various products to her face, "This house is beginning to give me the skeevies, -"

"Try living here for six months." The boy joked, his expression softening as he closes the door and lay back on the bed, the sudden dip forcing Y/N to correct her lipstick moments later.

"I'm coming to school with you today." She finished adamantly and turns to grin at Billy with wild eyes.

He shakes his head immediately and groans into the grey pillow, "That's a terrible idea."

"A brilliant idea, I'm glad you agree." Y/N's hands clasp together and her grin only widened at his now pouting mouth, "You can properly introduce me to your new friends, plus I want to see how jealous your fan base get when they see how much you love me." She teases and leaves the bed to search through the outfits strategically laid out around the room.

Y/N hears a chuckle from behind her and she knows she's won, her lips settling into a smirk, "How do you expect to be let into the school, Bambi?"

The girl pauses her search to smile at the nickname Billy had chosen for her years ago. Her stomach does a little somersault as she attempts to cool the blush creeping up on her cheeks. It was easy to sweep aside the boy's classic handsomeness after knowing him since birth and always thinking of him as the kid that ate a mud-pie thinking it was an actual pie. But after being apart, after he learnt to channel his constant anger into working out instead of breaking walls, he wasn't that little kid anymore.

Like the flick of a switch Y/N comes back to reality, shaking those thoughts from her head to muster the most innocent smile possible, "I may or may not have phoned up yesterday, possibly explaining my current situation and I might've asked for a visitors pass. Maybe." Before he can let out one syllable though, she silences him with a dainty finger over his lips and her own melodic voice, "Don't try to change my mind, do you know how difficult it is to avoid Susan? I don't think she's believing that the only two things I do are either sleep or shower and nothing else. Please? I know you have appearances to keep up and people here are more misogynistic than in California, but I'm genuinely dying from boredom. A few strange looks and comments are better than sitting here waiting for you to come back only to watch you leave again."

"Fine." A smile pulled at the boy's lips, his annoyed tone dissipating as Y/N let out a gleeful squeal. Billy finally sat up and watched with curious eyes while his best friend attempted to create the perfect outfit, "You want to make an impression?" She perked up and hummed in response at his question, "Wear the green dress and Daniel's jacket."

“Thanks,” The girl grinned up at him, feeling his arms snake around her waist and tug her close. Her back fell into his chest, warm and inviting but nothing like the quick hug goodbye from him she’d become so accustomed to over the years. His grip was tighter, scared that Y/N would fly back to California and never be seen again if he let go too soon. She closed her eyes in content and began running her smooth hands up and down the exposed skin on his wrist. Billy found that moment too perfect though, this wasn’t how they behaved around each other, they never did this.

He quickly moved his hands to jab her sides and his best friend squeaked in surprise, giggling and trying to catch her breath before retaliating by squeezing his knee, “You fucker, you know I hate being tickled.”

He shrugged, not so subtly eyeing her down from her smoothed tanned legs up to her beautifully made up face, “Get dressed and I’ll stop then.”

She gathered the clothes he had chosen and locked the bathroom door behind her, not before flipping him off.

Y/N changed into the outfit the boy had chosen, confused by what impression she was trying to make. Although the dress was tight and rather short and made her show a heck of a lot more skin than all the jean clad girls of Hawkins, it was one of the most conservative dresses in her ownership. The emerald colour complemented her tanned skin, and the ribbed material hugged her torso elegantly, flaring out at the waist to create a whirlwind of swishes whenever she turned.

Her older brother's jacket hugged Y/N's shoulders tightly while she waited for Billy to fix himself up enough to be presentable for his royal subjects. The girl didn't have any textbooks or stationary with her, planning to be the devil in Billy's ear and simply watch chaos ensue for the day.

He appeared after a few minutes of waiting-forced to be quiet as Susan wanted to sleep in- with a tentative dimpled smile on his peachy lips and car keys in hand.

The four kids from three days ago appeared early this morning calling for Max, her rushed 'goodbye' filling the house with excitement before the door slammed shut behind her.

"So," Billy drummed his fingers against the steering wheel while some sort of rock roared in the background, "How's home been without me around?"

The scene felt so familiar, riding shotgun in the blue Camaro, music pounding into her skull while her best friend drove around aimlessly for hours on end. She knew exactly where her answer was headed, and Y/N's stomach dropped thinking back to the months without Billy around. The girl found a dependability within him, he protected her and this car became her safe haven late into the night when she couldn't sleep or think straight because her parents were too busy tearing each other's heads off.

She hoped and prayed that the muscly boy beside her still shared that security.

Y/N began clicking her knuckles and scoffed, realising he couldn't hear the abhorrence radiating from her sharply raised eyebrow, "Shit."

She didn't have a poetic way to explain why life with Billy was better, it just was. He kissed her cuts and bruises better even after falling off her motorbike at sixteen when it was stationary. She could play pranks on him and know he'd forgive her in an hour or so, even when they went too far. He gave her the space she asked for when life got tough and she wanted to get through it alone, and then held her when she broke down realising she couldn't. Life without him wasn't unliveable, but it wasn't right either.

"Kelly and Cameron have broken up and got back together so many times I've lost count, the people that brought your house are absolute arseholes, but they have a cute dog called Obi so I can't complain. Jessie cheated on Steve with Jack, because you know, it's Jessie, Steve punched Jack and now they're together and Steve's pining over Amy. Dean broke his leg trying to jump from the roof of Rosie's pool-house onto the trampoline then into the pool, but he landed really badly. And I just watched from the sidelines pretending to care about their drama." Y/N chuckled to herself at the amount of times Kelly had come crying to her wanting relationship advice.

"Delilah?" Billy assumed by his best friend turning up in Indiana, something must have happened between the two. He didn't want to pry, he teased Y/N endlessly about how happy she seemed with her short, gorgeously tanned girlfriend, but that all switched if she wasn't truly happy.

The air tasted bitter on her tongue at his words, "She didn't want me to leave, said long distance doesn't work when you're already hiding your relationship from nearly the entire world. She dumped me, and I nearly stayed for her. But at my going away surprise party, I walked in on her and Jessie making out in my brother's room. I mean, she didn't cheat as far as I know, but it made it a whole lot easier for me to leave."

"Guess everyone wants a bit of Jessie... slut deserves chlamydia." Billy hummed and the two chuckled at his latter statement. He managed to brighten the sour mood right in time for the camaro to pull into the small high school car park.

The sky had lightened ever so slightly, a break in the endless clouds allowing the smallest rays of sunlight to shine down on the teens from the heavens. Y/N could practically feel the stares of Billy's classmates boring through her skull and smashing her brains with a metaphorical hammer as she stepped out of the car. To them, she was the Californian dream girl. Pretty curly hair that never seemed to frizz and skin so soft once someone touched it, they craved the inexplicable sensation.

Y/N walked on without the boy, feeling his heavy arm drape over her smaller shoulders in a matter of moments. It was a warning to the lingering gazes, she was off limits. Any conversations were soon extinguished in the halls as the two entered, eyes carefully inspecting and scrutinising the stranger on their King's arm.

"I bet she's pregnant and he's the father." One girl whispered to her group of friends.

Then from another group of girls down the hallway, "I wonder if she knows Billy's fucked half of the girls in his year-"

One of the friends snorted, "Whore's probably screwed anyone who offered back home, don't feel sorry for her."

Billy must have heard all the snide comments being thrown about because Y/N felt his grip tighten around her. She paused her steps to the guidance office and the boy mirrored, searching her face in worry to find the same look as the time that she kicked Owen Howarth right where it hurt in the middle of the cafeteria, and called him out for saying she blew him in the locker room when in reality she caught him perving on the girls showers. He couldn't walk properly for two weeks.

The girl, only a couple inches off Billy's own height, took a small step to close the distance between them and whispered, "Follow my lead."

Y/N stepped back quickly but was soon pulled back into his arms, and she felt his breath hot on her ear, "They aren't worth it, Bambi, trust me?"

Billy saw her look around at the stunned students with a wicked gaze, and just when he thought he knew every last detail about her, she shocked him. Y/N's eyes found their way back to his, thoughts stilling as the effervescent kindness behind his touch lingered on her waist. They flickered down to his lips before quickly shutting, and her hands reached up on their own accord to the back of his neck pulling him down to meet her.

She kissed him and the whole world fell away. It was slow and soft, his hand rest below her ear, thumb caressing her cheek as their breath mingled. In an instant they both pulled away, eyes blown wide with invisible smiles grinning from their hearts.

"I'll come find you after class." She hummed blissfully, turning on her heel leaving Billy alone to try and find the guidance office. Y/N kept her head high and hands in the safety of Daniel's jacket pockets, not daring to look at the faces of the boy's classmates or back at him.

Her mind screamed to turn back around, drag Billy out of the school and apologise. That's not how she pictured their first kiss, up until moving to this god forsaken town the thought hadn't even crossed her mind.

What the hell did I just do?

part three?

TAGLIST:

@rockyrocket15 @kcd15 @twogreeneyesandagoldenheart @mhftrs @ghost-brocolli (my new fave unsername btw) @wyattswolfhard @lucifersnipnips @cassiopeia-barrow @4everchrista @delicatelyherdreams @mautand @me-a-hopeless-romantic @buckysjuicyplums @fengarifood @lucyrocks86

Want to be tagged? Just send in an ask!

[oghoneytryst]

missing piece.

request: a sweet encounter between harry and y/n, a foreign and artistic contemporary dancer

or

where harry is in search of a muse and is running out of time

a/n: the only experience I have with dance is doing spotlight for dance shows so I apologize if anything is off. the request included specific characteristics but I wanted to avoid that so that everyone could enjoy, but still made sure y/n was foreign. thanks for reading <3

x the song i used was Talk Me Down by Troye Sivan x

Harry adores the summertime. It is something in the way the insects wander cynically on the victims of fresh and delicate skin; something in the way the schoolchildren skip across the concrete sidewalks with a step in their toes; something in the way the two lovers resting amongst the protruded roots of a healthy tree begin to frolic through the busy streets, hand-in-hand, in spite of London’s scorching heat...

It excites him. It is around this time, surrounded by these elements, where the inspiration stuck inside of his soul is usually eager to spill out, taking on the form of his well-recognized art.

Harry ponders on the leather seats of his luxurious sports car, a teasing sweat trailing down his plain and pricey t-shirt. It has only been a month or so since his legendary world tour came to a close. His friends have been caring enough to remind him that 30 days is not nearly enough time to have completely rested up from the constant months of traveling.

Regardless, he has been incapable of sitting still in the aftermath of the tour.

There has been no progress in his songwriting. Harry fears that he lacks the inspiration that is necessary for his second album, though his caring friends have also mentioned to him that he is in no rush to release anything new. He should not consider himself to be in a frustrating slump, but does so anyway, playing the role of his own worst critic while his mind becomes a rambled mess.

And yet, from Modena to Toronto, there is not a single muse in sight until he watches her move across that stage.

The hours-long program has fascinated Harry thus far.

Toddlers in bright and spiffy tutus have opened the show with their precious prancing across the stage. Harry senses relief in the lighthearted ambience that showers over the audience. He feels happy.

Teenage boys clad in only their nude tights take over mid-show, portraying their own expression of contemporary dance. Harry feels a strange and overwhelming sense of pride take control of him. His green eyes glisten with tears 

She appears during the closing piece of the show, and it is then he realizes that she is who captivates him entirely. She is who radiates brighter than the scorching sun and stands taller than the trunk of the lovers’ tree. It is her it is her it is her! 

His pezzo mancante. His pieza perdida, manke moso, peça faltante — whichever language he chooses to express it in does not matter. It is her who has brought the light back in his eyes and curiosity burns alive in his soul because he needs to know her name. 

“Right, well, I’ve got a cousin from me mum’s side, who’s got a friend, who owns a dance studio in London. She was lovely enough to send me an email about the summer show they’re putting on for today only and she insisted that I attend and bring along a friend.”

Harry leans forward in the driver’s seat to hide behind the steering wheel. This is not the first time that Nick has brought him somewhere without his knowledge of the destination. He only wishes that he could have been given a heads up before driving his car into the crowded parking lot and sticking out like a sore thumb.

“A dance show?” Harry questions, scanning over the creamy exterior of the auditorium.

“You’re going t’need these,” Grimmy advises, reaching into his tote to pull out an overused hat-and-sunglasses disguise. “Don’t want to steal away the attention from all the little girls, eh?”

In another life, Harry is not famous. Harry Styles is not a household name. He does not perform to sold out arenas, nor does he travel across the careless oceans. He does not have the privilege of crossing paths with incredible people and build connections with those who serve a great impact on his heavy heart and teach him many wisely lessons.

He does not do a great many things in another life that is far, far away.

Yet, it is in this one where he has discovered the world and all of its darling beauties. He has marveled at the runways of fashion shows; he has educated himself in abstract art galleries; he has cried during soul-gripping concerts that have taken place in venues he now has the honor of performing in himself.

So why it is that in all of his 24 years of life, he has never once been to a dance show?

‘I want to sleep next to you, but that’s all I wanna do right now...’

Harry recognizes the maturity of this final piece. Its dozen or so dancers are attentive to the cues of their music, long and whimsical skirts swaying with every synchronized movement. There is a range between them—tall to short, slim to plump, nervous to at ease—and he is impressed with how their distinctions complement each other and shape them into a single working entity.

 A minute into the song is when the dancers break away from their collective choreography to perform their own individual dynamics. Harry is awestruck by the mix of arches, lunges, contractions, and so forth. There are no two dancers who replicate the same movements at the same time and yet everything still looks so wonderfully put together.

‘If you don’t mind, I’ll walk that line, stuck in the bridge between us...’

These dancers then disappear in the blink of an eye. There is a gracefulness in the way they storm off behind the curtains, out of sight from the audience, leaving one of their own in the spotlight. 

She who remains is an illustrious fragment who portrays her emotions so elegantly through the flow of her dance. This is the first time that Harry sees her; he decides then that it is his favorite part of the show. 

“Maybe from this you can get the gears in your brain turnin’ again,” Nick tells him from their seats in the back row, waiting patiently for the show to start. “Find your muse or somethin’. Get to creatin’.”

“And if I don’t?” Harry retaliates with a cheeky grin.

“It’s still a lovely show, Harold.”

Harry is so intrigued by this woman. He finds it impossible to tear his eyes away from the stage in fear that he might miss even a second of her poise. The applause that erupts at her frozen, heavy-breathing figure is what escapes him from his trance. The music softly fades away as the auditorium turns to a mystical darkness.

Harry thinks to himself: that was not long enough. He has not satisfied himself enough with her artistry.

 The lights turn on. The audience are settling back into their seats and the stage reveals itself vacant of her presence. Harry begins to shortly panic. He skims through his glossy program to read over the limited information provided about that wonderful piece that he has experienced in this life only.

Talk Me Down – Contemporary Sunday Class, 2 pm with Ms. Y/n

“D’ya think I can meet her?” Harry asks Nick after the final bow with all of the teachers and students. His pale hands have gone red from the applause he has given in support of the lovely lady smiling off to the side. “That girl from the last dance, Ms. Y/n or somethin’ like that.” 

Nick grins knowingly at his friend, settling back into his seat while the rest of the audience shuffles out into the lobby with their colorful bouquets. “I think she’s more of a woman, Harry, but yeah, I’m sure that can be arranged. We’ll just have to wait until it cools down in here.”

15 minutes have never gone by slower. Harry had to force himself to sit impatiently in the backrow, smiling at the people who gave him a nice wave on their way out. He even took pictures with those who were courteous enough to ask.

“Junie! What a lovely show that was,” Nick greets the woman backstage, his cousin’s friend, who quite simply is his friend as well.

“Thank you so much for coming, darling. I hope you two enjoyed yourselves.”

“Absolutely,” Harry says, stretching his arms out to her for a welcoming hug. His vision sneakily wanders around the area, catching sight of wide-eyed, star struck females, yet none of them are her. “I must say, that last piece was absolutely amazing.” 

“Oh!” Junie exclaims, jolting out of Harry’s embrace. “Y/n’s class! D’you know what? I am so glad that she decided to move here. She’s proven to be such an important part of this journey.”

Harry repeats her name, “Y/n ... sounds lovely,” and nods to himself. He can already imagine his tongue getting used to those sweet syllables of hers, his lips giving the vibrations a little kiss on their way out.

“D’ya happen to know where she is?” Nick asks nonchalantly, throwing his arm around Junie’s shoulders. “I mean, Harry just adored that dance of hers. Absolutely adored. Perhaps even inspired him, or summat?”

“Thank you, Nicholas,” the younger man stops him, politely clasping his hands in front of him. He’s not one for violence, but he practically wants to slap that shit-eating grin off of his chiseled face.

Junie chuckles at their interaction. “Well, speak of the devil and she shall appear.”

The dance instructor nods her head in the direction behind Harry, and he can see the wiggle in her eyebrows before turning around with such quick desperation.

Speak of the angel and she shall appear. She shall walk through the double doors and crash upon your life without so much as a warning.

His heart drops down to his tummy, cradled by the ferns on his lower hips.

Y/n has taken it upon herself to change out of the costume that once hugged her body. She now suits a comfortable pair of sweats, the hem of a loose tank barely cascading over the thick waistband. There is a quickness in her mindless step, multitasking as she stuffs her belongings into the duffle bag draped over her shoulder. 

Harry hums contentedly and turns back to the pair. “Thank you, Junie,” he says, ignoring their teasing smirks as he begins to walk backwards. “It was lovely talking to you, but if you don’t mind—shit! 

Crash! The angel shall walk and crash upon your life, metaphorically and literally.

Harry covers his sinful lips, embarrassed that the mothers around him are probably scolding him for his foul language. He hears an item drop in the collision, and after he has balanced himself back on his own two feet, he turns around to apologize to the startled woman.

“Um...” Harry breathes out, shaking his head. Y/n looks even more alluring up close. “I’m ... ‘m sorry, y/n, I didn’t mean to—”

“No, no, it’s fine!”

“I shouldn’t have been walking—”

“It’s okay, I promise.”

“Jesus, ‘m so clumsy...”

Their sentences mix together, no single word being quite coherent to any pesky eavesdroppers. Harry has become exasperated with himself, spotting the frail book that has fallen from y/n’s hands. He does not hesitate to pick it up for her, a string of apologies continuously flowing from his lips.

Then he stops. He reads the title in blue.

BURNING IN WATER DROWNING IN FLAME. Charles Bukowski.

A poet from before his time that he has found himself infatuated in. A collection of written works that have inspired him since his discovery of them. These are some of the stanzas most precious to his heart, found in her possessions as well. 

“Can I ... can I have it back please?”

Harry raises his head to look at her. He doesn’t think it is possible to be even more intrigued with her existence, but the thick accent she swiftly carries makes it obvious to him that she is not from London, but rather someplace alien that he now has the desire to explore.

Her voice is what he imagines the clouds to sound like; he suddenly grows envious of the angels she kisses.

“Right, ‘f course,” he mumbles, smitten by the kind smile that paints her face when he returns her book. “That’s a good read there. Interesting choice.”

Y/n tilts her head. She looks down at the beaten copy, skimming through it as the pages flip against her thumb. “Thank you,” she says genuinely, “it helps me with my ideas.”

“Your ideas?” Harry raises an inquisitive eyebrow. “For your dances?”

Y/n nods, biting the inside of her cheek. “Yes. It is something about the words that ... motivate me. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“I know what y’mean,” Harry assures her. “Inspiration, right?” 

“Right...” she agrees, the two sharing a quiet laugh. “Um, can I ask how you know my name?”

Her question suddenly throws him off. Harry closes his eyes and curses himself for muttering out her name in the midst of his rambling.

“Uh ... it’s in the program,” he answers, raising the glossy booklet as evidence for her to see. “And Junie, she’s, she said it was you. I was just really blown away by your performance. Wonderful song choice, such incredible taste. I’m Harry, by the way.”

Y/n laughs, her shoulders pushing forward as she looks to the ground. He cannot think of a more melodious gift than her laugh 

“Thank you, Harry,” she says, dropping her poetry book into her duffle bag. She does not notice the way he swallows dryly when she says his name. “I love the song, too.”

There is a brief second in which a strange silence creeps up on the two. Harry doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like the awkward background noise of the dancers shuffling around them.

“Did you, um,” he starts, refusing to let the conversation die. “Did you choreograph that piece all by yourself? Junie said it was your class, so I was jus’ wonderin’. 

“I had some help from the students. They were the ones who thought of the solo at the end.”

“Wow, yes, the solo. It was certainly, uh, fantastic. I really, really enjoyed—” 

“Harry?” she abruptly interrupts him, causing his lips to seal in anticipation.

“Hmm?”

The squint in y/n’s eyes makes Harry nervous. He feels like a barcode by the way she scans him up and down. He takes the moment to observe his overall appearance with that of everyone else. The people around him are dressed head-to-toe in a loose-fitting, affordable clothing, whereas Harry has decided to sport a more expensive look: a white Saint Laurent t-shirt, yellow Adidas track pants, and creamy colored Gucci loafers.

This is the first time his clothes have ever made him feel self-conscious.

Y/n, however, does not comment on his designer clothing. She seems to not even notice it when mentioning to him, “You look familiar.” There is perplexity in the way her eyes scream why have I seen these features of his before? “Have I met you before, maybe somewhere else?”

Harry lets out a relieved chuckle and runs a hand through his bouncy curls. “Well, it’s funny that you ask...”

“Are you coming to the after party, y/n?”

Junie interrupts the innocent conversation that has been spread out for almost an hour. Most of the people that once filled the backstage area are now gone. Harry can’t recall when it had become just him and y/n, but he likes this idea of her. She makes his fear of time falter; she even makes him forget.

“It sounds fun,” y/n gushes, hugging her friend goodbye. “But I think I am just going to pass time at the studio, if that’s alright with you?”

“Boo!” Nick suddenly appears, earning a laugh from Junie as she gives the key to the dancer. “What about you?” he asks Harry, nudging him on the arm. “What are you goin’ to do?”

Harry shrugs, stuffing his hands warm inside his pockets. He doesn’t want to go to this so-called after party if y/n isn’t going, but he also doesn’t want to seem rude and reject their invitation.

“You can join me at the studio, Harry,” y/n speaks up, swinging the keychain around a single finger. “If you’re not doing anything else...”

“‘m so sorry, y/n,” Harry apologizes when they enter the studio. “Someone must’ve posted a picture or something,” he realizes, shaking his head at the paparazzi that swarmed them upon leaving the auditorium. “They’ve probably followed us all the way here.”

“Harry,” y/n murmurs with a grin. “It’s fine. They’ll go away eventually. Besides, it is a good way for the word to get out about the studio.”

Harry raises his head, playfully scoffing at the teasing smile she is giving him. “Oh, is that all I’m good for then?”

“Of course not! You’re also excellent company.”

“Sure, I had to see for myself where the magic happens.” Harry stretches his arms out to his side, circling around the area with the large mirror for a wall and breathing in the open space. “I bet it’s got really sick acoustics, huh?”

“A little.” Y/n shrugs. “I like it here, when no one else is around. It’s ... quiet. Gives me a space to think, to dance, sometimes both at the same time.”

“Sounds lovely,” Harry says, adoring the way she looks into the mirror and gives a little twirl after she speaks.

“Can I ask you something, Harry?” she says, changing the topic of conversation with the snap of her fingers. “What is your dream? Something that you desire, and it makes you happy?”

“My ... dream?” he questions, once again thrown off by her questions. She is inquisitive, which makes her all the more intriguing. “My dream, well ... ‘m livin’ it.” 

Y/n scoffs, lowering her arms until they make a slap against her sides. “Besides that,” she says, little space left between them when she walks over to him. “Something else. You accomplished that dream at such a young age, you must have another, right?”

Harry blinks in a pensive manner. He’s trying to control his heartbeat, but at this close proximity, he can practically inhale her soft scent. “Um, I just want ... people to be kind to each other. I think that would be nice. Other than that, I don’t know. Maybe ‘m still trying t’figure it out.”

“You have plenty of time. Something will inspire that dream of yours soon, Harry.”

“Alright.” He laughs, nodding in agreement. “And yours? What’s your dream, y/n?”

The room seems to illuminate when he asks her that question. Perhaps it is because of the way she beams when she thinks of her dream, but Harry can’t recall when that grin of hers had ever left her face. 

“I want to be like Junie,” she answers, but is quick to explain. “I want to open up a studio like this. Dance until I can’t dance anymore. It’s going to take a lot of work, but I think that’ll make me very happy. Don’t you think?” 

Harry is so smitten. The dimples beside his smirk is enough of a hint, and he finds himself crossing his arms across his chest to keep from pulling this imaginative woman any closer.

“Yeah,” he whispers, though he doesn’t think he is in the right position to decide what will make y/n happy or not. Still, he has to agree with her. She’s clearly got a passion. “Um, about the cameras outside, you are aware that it may be hours before they leave?”

“Wow ... okay then.” Y/n exhales, the air flowing past her pursed lips which makes them flap against each other in a silly manner. She pensively tilts her head from side to side, but gasps as she suggests, “Maybe I can show you some techniques in the meantime? If you want to, you don’t have to.”

“Y/n.” Harry reaches down, enveloping her left hand in both of his. “I would love to.”

Harry doesn’t know how long it has been before he’s driving y/n home. He has been caught up in the dances she has performed for him, telling him to follow her movements because “it’s not hard, Harry!” He has even sung her a couple songs, the acoustics in the room proving to be more than exceptional. In a mix of their constant giggles, they’re unsure about when exactly the paparazzi have left them in their privacy.

In fact, the only certainty that Harry has when he drives himself back home is the powerful array of words storming in his mind. He’s practically aching to write them down.

[mind-reader1]

Queen of Hearts (Ch. 28)

Drake x MC (Emma Barnes)

TRR AU: What would happen if Emma loved Drake but had to marry Liam?

Catch up here

Warnings: harsh language 

Note:

Word Count: 2,166

Summary: This is it! The big fight! The one you’ve all been waiting for, what will it mean for our lovebirds? 

Chapter 28: Natural - Imagine Dragons

That's the price you pay

Leave behind your heartache, cast away

Just another product of today

Rather be the hunter than the prey

And you're standing on the edge, face up 'cause you're a

Natural

A beating heart of stone

You gotta be so cold

To make it in this world

Yeah, you're a natural

Living your life cutthroat

You gotta be so cold

Yeah, you're a natural

Deep inside me, I'm fading to black, I'm fading

Took an oath by the blood of my hand, won't break it

I can taste it, the end is upon us, I swear

Gonna make it

I'm gonna make it

She was dancing by Drake and Liam when Maxwell made his way over, keeping with the beat.

“After all that excitement I'll bet you're glad I secretly married you!” the three of them froze, Emma and Drake shooting daggers at Maxwell, Liam looking between them.

“What?” He asked through clenched teeth.

“It's nothing Liam. Just Maxwell being Maxwell.” Emma tried to lie, but she wasn’t convincing anyone.

“It's not nothing. He said secretly married. What is he talking about?” No one answered.

“Maxwell what are you talking about?” Liam raised his voice and people began to notice.

“Let's take this somewhere private.” Emma walked towards the hall where they would be out of view and earshot of the ballroom.

“What are you hiding from me?” She rolled her eyes as she looked at Liam.

“Seriously? Just let it go Liam!”  

“I will not! We're friends, aren't we? Or are we back to not being friends? I can't keep up anymore. Besides, if you and Drake have done some ridiculous thing to ruin this marriage I need to know!”

“That's rich Liam. You're not our friend and we're not the only ones risking this image! The way you look at Olivia, everyone sees it!” He was taken aback, but Emma was sick of it, she tore into him.

“If you were Drake's friend you wouldn't have dipped me to kiss me like that. Oh, the super romantic vows were also a very nice touch.” She said sarcastically.

“What else? Oh yeah, you wouldn't have made me dance with you to a song that was important to me and Drake. You told me I could be with Drake but make us feel guilty every time we're together! You wouldn't have put us in this position in the first place if we were your friends Liam! I’m stuck pretending to love you because your family can’t keep their shit together! Maybe you’re not deserving of the crown Liam. I thought I knew who you were when I signed on for this, but now I’m really not sure, not like I ever had a choice in the matter anyways.” Liam looked like he had just been punched in the gut.

"Oh really? If he was my best friend, my brother, he wouldn't have fucked you behind my back!"

"Drake was a better friend that you ever were! Not that it's any of your business, but he wouldn't sleep with me until after my name was cleared. He wanted me to have a chance to choose freely unlike you! You never gave me a choice Liam!"

"You expect me to believe that? The staff saw Drake leaving your room that night after Tariq! Maybe the rumors were right about you after all! I've given you everything you could've wanted Emma and you're acting like a spoiled, ungrateful court whore!" Emma slapped him, leaving a bright red handprint on his cheek, stinging, they could've sworn it echoed through the ballroom.

"How dare you speak to her like that! For once someone didn't choose you and you really just can't understand that!" Drake got in his face, shoving him. His blood boiling, he couldn't believe Liam claimed to love her, but would speak about her like that.

"Get out! Get out of my palace! Your traitorous backstabbers!" Liam looked like he might punch Drake, instead tears welled up in his eyes, tears of frustration and hurt, everyone's emotions still heightened and raw from the fight with Anton. Drake grabbed Emma's hand and pulled her out of there, straight to a car. Drake gave the driver and address and they pulled up in front of a secluded cabin, only a short drive from the palace. Emma was emotionally spent, crying as she stepped out of the car. Drake grabbed her hand and started to walk in, but Emma didn't budge, he scooped her up and carefully opened the door, carrying her inside. It wasn't how he imagined carrying her across the threshold, but none of this had gone how he hoped. He gently set her down and Emma clawed at her zipper desperately, Drake stepping over to help her undo it. She shed the dress and latched onto Drake, getting it all out as he gently ran a hand over her hair, pulling her close with his other.

“It's okay Em. It's going to be okay.” She pulled away, her makeup all over his suit jacket.

“I can't believe he said those things to me Drake! I hate him! I hate his guts! The way he talked about you!” Drake tried to keep his voice even, his blood was still boiling though.

“Me too Walker, me too. Let's not think about him anymore. This is our space, our refuge, you and me. No one else.” Emma nodded and kissed him sweetly.

“Thank you Drake. For everything. I thought I might lose you today, I thought it was over for us. It's not though, we survived, and all I want is to curl up with my husband and forget about it.” Drake kissed Emma gently and nodded, stripping down before climbing into bed beside her and pulling her close. They could feel the others heart racing, as they laid there though, they finally slowed. The only sounds were crickets and their even breathing as they finally fell asleep, exhausted from the day’s events.

Back at the palace, Liam had made an announcement about Emma not feeling well, he said she had gone to lay down, after that the reception was basically over. He was heartbroken, Emma and Drake had betrayed him worse than he ever thought possible and so in his anger he took it out on them. Now he had probably lost her forever, sure he liked Olivia, but she wasn't Emma, she never would be. They were probably together right now, enjoying what he wished was his honeymoon with her. He'd never been with her and he wanted nothing more than to show her how much he loved her, to make her understand, but he had ruined it all. He drank himself to sleep that night, feeling sorry for himself.

It had been weeks since he'd seen Emma or Drake, they had been holed up in their cabin with the exception of Anton's court appearance. Each encounter was cold and brief, Emma's body tensing any time he touched her for the cameras. People had already started to comment too, no one had seen Emma around the palace or Drake, but they had seen an awful lot of Olivia. He knew he needed a save face and he had the perfect idea in mind.

That morning Emma woke up before Drake, he was laying on his back, the sheet covering only up to his waist. Emma trailed gentle kisses down his chest until he woke up.

“Walker!” He smiled and brought her face up for a kiss.

“Marshmallow.” He grinned, she knew that he loved when she called him that, their little secret.

“You sure do know how to wake a guy up.” He rolled over, so he was on top of Emma who giggled, married life had been bliss since the palace was leaving them alone. It was easy to forget she was queen, until they had to go back. Anton's trial had been happening and the press was all over it, they were like vultures. Emma couldn't stand to be near Liam, especially since the last time. The press had asked when there would be an heir, they played it off, but as soon as they were behind closed doors Liam had turned on her. She could still hear his words.

“They're right. I need an heir so nothing like this happens again, I'm sure you and Drake have been working on that plenty though.” His voice was cold and mechanical, she turned without a word to find Drake and go home, but he reached out and grabbed her wrist. He handed her two sealed envelopes with her and Drake's names on them. It had been invitations for later today. She was broken out of her thoughts when Drake began to whisper in her ear.

“I can tell you're someplace else right now. We need to get ready anyways.” He started to climb off her and out of bed, but Emma pulled him back groaning.

“No please. Let's just skip it and stay in bed all day.” Drake turned and gave her one last lingering kiss before walking to the closet.

“As much as I'd love that Walker, you're queen and you've got responsibilities for it.” She rolled her eyes, but she knew he was right. They went to the boutique as instructed and found the rest of their friends waiting for them. Before they really had a chance to talk, Madeleine was there instructing them all the change. Hanna chose her beautiful floral dress, Drake wore his classic grey suit, Olivia wore her black and red one shoulder dress that was repaired since Anton stabbed her, Maxwell wore his squid suit proudly and even handed over Cooper's suit! Emma carefully dressed him up before dressing up herself. Madeleine handed her a beautiful red wine gown, it was off the shoulder, long sleeve with gold accents along the top and skirt. Drake was practically drooling as she twirled for him, even Olivia was impressed, but not for long as Madeleine whisked then off to the throne room. It was decorated elegantly, fit for a royal ceremony, trumpets began to blare, and Madeleine arranged everyone in a line as Liam appeared. He wore a suit with the same color as Emma's, suddenly she hated the dress, no doubt Liam's doing, but of course it made sense for the King and Queen to match during a royal event.

“What is all this?” Olivia asked. Liam smiled and looked at them.

“All will become clear in a moment.” He turned to address the crowd. He gave a speech about how they were there on 'honor their national heroes,’ and thank them for their bravery. One by one he went down the line starting with Maxwell for his optimism, he was deemed 'Guardian of the Realm!”

Hana was also deemed Guardian of the Realm for her grace and companionship.

“Duchess Olivia, for your determination, invaluable help, and honorable fighting aptitude, I hereby dub thee Guardian of the Realm!” Liam placed her medallion around her neck, his fingertips grazing her skin as he looked into her eyes just a moment too long. Madeleine cleared her throat and Liam bowed gracefully before moving on.

“Sir Drake Walker, for your selfless sacrifice for Cordonia, to its citizens, its king and most importantly taking a bullet for my wife, the queen,” Drake jaw clenched when Liam called Emma his wife, Liam's eyes gleamed knowing the rise it got out if his former best friend, “I hereby dub thee Guardian of the Realm!”

“Guardians step forward and be recognized!” They all stepped forward and Emma watched as the cameras flashed around them, everyone wanting to get the perfect shot of Cordonia's heroes.

“Finally, Emma Rhys!” Emma repressed a flinch as he used his last name, he knew very well she wanted to be called Emma Barnes still.

“From the moment you stepped foot in Cordonia, you treated it like your home and the people as your family. You were promised the chance at a better life and I believe you've found that, but really you made everyone's lives in this nation better by being here. You fought for us, unified us, and stole our hearts, especially mine. I hereby dub thee Champion of the Realm, the highest title bestowed by the crown.”

Liam placed an even more ornate medallion around her neck, Emma was stunned. She wasn't sure why Liam was doing this, the more she thought about it though, she was sure there was some ulterior motive behind it. It was only a moment before Emma figured it out, Liam decided to form a Royal Council, all of the guardians were to be members as well as Kiara and Madeleine. It was a way to make Emma have to come to the palace more, gave Olivia an excuse to hang around, and Kiara more chances to throw herself at Drake. Liam couldn't just leave them alone, they walked to the ballroom and Liam whisked her onto the dance floor.

“Why are you doing this Liam?” She leaned away from him as much has she could without drawing attention.

“Doing what Emma? This will be beneficial for Cordornia.” she rolled her eyes.

“Why us though? Why won't you just let us be happy? You have Olivia.”

“I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about Emma. I have some business to attend to. I'll see you for the first council meeting.” He surprised her with a kiss on the lips as the song ended. Emma was fuming, she made sure she greeted everyone who was important and slipped out with Drake.

Next Time: We jump forward one year and check in on our 2 favorite (and 1 least favorite) people as the topic of an heir becomes a hot button issue. 

Tag List:  @notoriouscs @brightpinkpeppercorn @ooo-barff-ooo @leelee10898 @princesstopgun@choicesyouplayandmore @sleepwalkingelite @roonarific  @indigo39@skyila @speedyoperarascalparty @andy-loves-corgis @furiousherringoperatortoad@drakewalkerfics @findingdrake @sue9659 @smritysriv @larryssunflower @likethetailofacomet @zaffrenotes @mrsdrakewalkerblog @agent-bossypants @endlessly-searching-for-you   @cgd03 @simsvetements @jovialyouthmusic @jlouise88 @bettys-mom

[sybil-howlett]

Send me an angel (Tony Stark x Feline!Snow Leopard!Reader) 2/?

Wow, I finished my second part earlier then I thought I would xD First: Thank you so much for liking this story, it makes me really happy to know people read my stuff :’D

second: now we start with the second chapter, I won’t talk more now, on with the new part :D No tags for today, I’m already too late awake and need to go to bed in a few minutes xD

some tags:

@dixonsunicorn @oddlyotaku2@bigbadwolfhale  @thevanishedillusion @helloavenger

Part 1

Title: Send me an angel

Characters: Tony Stark, Reader, Jarvis

warnings: slight anxiety attack

mood: sad, fluff, humour and cuteness

words: 1,380

You both walked to Tony Stark's sport car and you chuffed out a grunt while stepping closer to the vehicle. That was such an expensive car. You looked up to him, growling in a soft way. The billionaire eyed you with a small smirk and opened the door for you, sarcastically bowing at you and offered you the seat. “Please, my lady.” He chortled and you grinned at him with a soft cat smile. You elegantly jumped into the soft leather seat and rolled yourself into a comfortable position.

You heard Tony chuckle about your cat antics while he closed the door with a soft click and he rushed around the expensive vehicle and opened the driver door, sitting down when he had closed the door beside him. He relaxed slightly after everything what happened a few minutes ago. The dark haired male rubbed over his eyes while his breath squeezed harshly out of his mouth. Everything came back to him, the attack of the terrorists, the breakup, the almost death of him today...it was too much...

His fingers drifted down to his chest, clenching his teeth together, he almost whimpered in pain, his heart beat increased and it felt like it would burst out of his chest. He jerked slightly when he felt something soft and warm on his shoulder. His scared golden brown eyes turned and locked gaze with yours. He couldn't detected any pity but only sympathy in your [e/c] cat eyes. Kindness and worry for him and his health.

You purred loudly, softly nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck, your fur gently tickled his ear and cheek. You felt he relaxed again, brushing his hand over the side of your face. The vibration of your purr gently lulled him down, showing him that he was safe with you. A few minutes later the squeezing feeling soothed down and he could take a deep breath again, running his fingers along your head.

He chuckled without any amusement in his voice. “How come you are so different, so different to the people I shared a lot of my time. You don't laugh and tell me I should go over it and to shut up...maybe because you are a cat. Why do I even talk to a cat...” He rambled hastily and you listened to him.

You could sense the tears behind his words and eyes. “But it seems you are the only one who cares...” The billionaire whispered with a quiver of his bottom lip. You pushed your nose onto the side of his face, licking it gently with a soft purr. He closed his dark brown hues and some tears trickled down his cheek. A warm feeling pulsed through his body, he felt relaxed, not alone anymore, the ache in his heart didn't hurt so much like before. The billionaire placed a hand on your head and smirked lightly.

“You know what, I'm hungry and I think you are too. We should go home for now.” Your ears perked up at the mention of food and nudged his jaw while he chuckled. “Heh, sounds you like that.” Tony ruffled your fur with a smile. “But first and foremost you need a bath, you stink, kitty cat~” You glared at him and growled lowly and he raised an eyebrow at you. “What? Do you want me to join you while you bath?” The dark haired male teased you and you huffed, sitting back on your seat while Tony chuckled with amusement and started the car. The male watched you in the driving mirror when you licked your paw and tried to clean yourself. You knew you didn't stink but some of your fur had knots, mostly the parts you couldn't clean yourself. You turned your head towards Tony and you locked gaze for a moment. If you could smile like a human you would do it now but you needed to stay in your cat form for a while longer. You knew this man from your past, better then he would know about it.

You were his bodyguard when you were still with him and his family. But because of his safety and your fear for mutant hunters you and his father had constructed an idea. You felt bad you had left him but you never could really leave him aloe. You were always close to him, protected him and fought for him in the shadows. You were his shadow the whole time, his angel. Like today, only that it was now different. You were here with him and not hidden in the darkness.

You knew this man needed you, more than before. You rolled yourself into a ball and listened to the music the billionaire had turned on. AC/DC, highway to hell played on the radio and you wiggled with your ears slightly in interest.

Tony watched you with a faint smile on his lips. It was weird, he never had thought he would meet someone like you at all. He never liked animals too much but you were different in his eyes. Maybe because you had protected him without looking out for your own benefit or protection. You were like a shield, throwing yourself in the line of fire.

You were like her, his best friend. [Name]. You and her were the only one he had opened up when it came to his feelings. It was easier with you because you were an animal, animals tended not to judge like humans would do when they were in your position.

~*~

When you both arrived at Stark's tower he observed you while you sat beside him in the elevator. He had bought some food from Shawarma and doughnuts for dessert, only for him, sweets weren't good for you, he explained while you growled and pushed the bag from the co-driver seat.

He shouted at you but gaped with wide open mouth when you licked over his lips with your rough tongue, getting an “EW!!” out from him. The man glared at you but couldn't stay annoyed with you quite long. He humphed while grabbing the last good doughnut and put it back in the paper bag while watching that you wouldn't push it down again. It felt like a friendly banter with [Name] again.

He grinned when he thought about the scene.  Your tail was flicking around, you were excited and nervous at the same time. The elevator dinged and opened, a voice welcomed you both into the apartment. “Good evening, sir. And who is this may I ask?” The british accented voice spoke up. You eyed the whole room but couldn't find the person to the voice. You titled your head but trusted the billionaire that this invicible man was a friend. “You never have seen a Panthera Uncia before, Jarvis? You need to watch more discovery channel from now on.” The dark haired male teased the A.I.

“Sir, I'm well aware what a snow leopard is, but I don't understand what she is doing here. You were never fond of animals.” Tony made a pouty face and huffed slightly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Well, she is an exception. And her name is [Name].” The answer was a sigh and a “Alright, sir, but you clean after her.” You listened to the banter of the two, it was still funny to see only one but to hear two voices. It was nice he could be his normal self with his A.I. and you were glad for that. You had missed him for being himself.

You closed your eyes for a while, taking in the new and old scents, some memories popped into your head, you felt for the first time in a long while safe and happy. Not only because you were close to him again but because you could watch over him, like you did it for him in the past. You opened your [e/c] hues when Tony rubbed your head. “Come on, kitty cat, time for your bath.” He never saw someone or anyone for that matter running that fast like you. But in Tony's opinion you ran the wrong way. “Hey, that's not the right way to the bathroom.” He shouted with a laugh.

go to  Third Part

[glmfic]

Happy holidays my dear readers: chapter 27 sneak-peak

My dear readers, bless you all. I have been writing on GLM for 10 years now, and you’ve been my everything. Nothing is more motivating and encouraging than knowing there is someone out there waiting to read what happens next. Your comments and reviews make me laugh and cry (happy tears!). Most importantly, they give me the drive to keep writing. Please don’t misunderstand, I enjoy writing-- very much, but it’s a solitary thing and sometimes can be discouraging and lonely. A quick trip to FF.net or Wattpad (and now this blog<3), is all I need to change that. Because of YOU. You, my dear readers. You are all so special and important to me, more than you know. I appreciate you all so much, thank you for being on this journey with me.

When I posted chapter 26 at the end of June, I was overwhelmed with the response. You guys were amazing-- so excited, you had so much to say! It made my heart so full, afdgshjfgssj !!! You were dying for the next part and I was dying to write it for you <333 Originally, I thought that that would be no problem-- I had sort of split chapter 26 in two...part of it was going to contribute to chapter 27. I knew where things were going, piece of cake! I’ve had this part of the story in my head for ages (Naru!!!) and I was just going crazy wanting to write it out. I thought your excitement + my motivation = chapter out in record time (oh yeaaaah). But life has a funny way taking your plans...and throwing them out the window. What was supposed to be an update in September, turned into...when can I steal five minutes to write today? Some of the delay has been work related, but a larger and tougher barrier has been some serious personal problems that have come up. I’ve been all consumed with taking care of and supporting my family in this hard time. Unfortunately, it’s left me pretty exhausted. Writing is usually my go-to way to de-stress, but most days I couldn’t find the energy, even when I had the chance. It has made me sad. Very sad because I want to write. I want to share the next chapter with you, my dear readers. Posting updates here on this blog though, and seeing you all still kindly waiting for me, lifts my heart. I am so grateful!

I couldn’t give you the full chapter for Christmas like I wanted, but I wanted to give you something. So here it is: a preview of chapter 27!  I know we’re just around the corner from 2018, and I am hopeful I will be able to return to writing like I so want to. I am excited to share 2018 with you all, and to share the next installments in this story I love so much.

I hope you enjoy this small preview (this chapter supposed to be 10,000+ words when finished), thank you all so much for your support <333

[previously in chapter 26]

Reaching the inn, unable to help herself, Mai scanned the cars parked outside. No black van. A familiar ache spread through her chest, but she stubbornly ignored it. Dinner was coming.

He will be there.

Last to enter the lobby, her mind on things like what freeway traffic was like at this hour, Mai didn't notice Mrs. Koku until she was nearly upon her.

“SIGN.”

Mai gave a polite bow,

“Oh, hello.”

Her greeting discharged, Mai made to move along, unpleasant memories surrounding the inn keeper assaulting her, but she was halted by a second, “SIGN.”

Mai blinked, and turned to look back. She saw then that in addition to a sour expression, Mrs. Koku held a clipboard. At her feet were two boxes. Gift wrapped.  

“SIGN.”

Mai took the clipboard that was suddenly shoved into her hands.

“Me...?” she asked, staring at the receipt in confusion. Designer perfume invaded Mai's senses. Ayako was suddenly at her side. The miko bent down and picked up the two boxes.

“For you? Mai, this department store wrap, tsk-- expensive. I only pay for it at the holidays. Who could it be from?”

Mai stared at the crisp wrapping paper, thinking the exact same thing.

Who...?

She glanced at the packages, but there was no card, no return address...

“Do you know who--” she began, but faltered meeting the inn keeper's stony gaze. The old woman reached out and jammed a wrinkled finger against the X at the bottom of the receipt.

“SIGN.”

[chapter 27]

Day Seven

4:30pm

The Koku Inn

Mai had barely finished signing when the clipboard was yanked from her hands. She watched as Mrs. Koku reviewed the receipt, her expression as if Mai had written a foul word there instead of her signature. Self-conscious, Mai glanced at the clipboard.

“Is there...something wrong?”

The inn keeper grunted.

“PEN.”

Huh?

Mai blinked, confused, but then realizing what she still held in her hand, mumbled a quick, “oh, here.”

Snatching up the offered pen, the old woman gave one last scowl before shuffling away. With the distinct feeling she was being silently cursed, Mai turned to leave. She had only made it a step though, when a second booming voice filled the lobby. Mr. Koku joined his wife.

“DID YOU DELIVER THOSE PACKAGES TO THAT GIRL?”

“I HAD TO, THERE WAS A RECIPT.”

“SHE ACCEPTED THEM?”

“WITHOUT BATTING AN EYE. SHAMELESS. SHE EVEN HAD THE PLUCK TO TRY AND ASK ME WHO THEY WERE FROM. AS IF SHE DOESN'T ALREADY KNOW.”

“NOW MY DEAR, SHE MIGHT NOT AFTER ALL. THOSE KINDS OF CITY GIRLS KEEP SO MANY RICH LOVERS, IT GETS HARD TO TELL THEM APART.”

Shameless? What kind of girl...?!

Mai was definitely warm now. She tugged at her hoodie, fighting the urge to share a piece of her mind with the slanderous inn keepers behind her-- only past experience held her back. Arguing would do nothing but cause a scene. The last thing she needed was more eyes on her.

Grudgingly, she met the set that were. John's openly curious, but also empathetic. Ayako's, side-long and glittering with interest. Bou-san's amusement was clear from across the room. Reaching them, her head ducked in embarrassment, Mai was surprised to find Lin still standing there. His gaze was impossible to read as usual, but she noticed his attention lingered on the packages in Ayako's arms.

“If you're finished here, we should head in,” he spoke, leading the way down the hall. Mai followed after, only too ready escape the lobby.  

“Rich lovers, hm?” Bou-san murmured as she past him.

“Shut up.”

They arrived at Ayako's room first, but the miko walked by.

“Leave me out of opening these boxes? As if.”

Mai sighed, staring at her delivery.

So much for privacy.

But privacy was exactly what she was being afforded. Mai had braced herself for the prying looks and whispers as she returned to her room, but the occupants of the Koku Inn were too busy getting ready to be busy bodies.

They reached John's room next. With the agreement to meet for dinner, the young priest left them. Ahead of them, Lin opened his door.

“I've reserved a table, be there no later than six.”

With these instructions, the Chinese man shut his door. Just the three of them, Bou-san and Ayako's suppressed interest and curiosity was given free reign.

“So, what do you think is in there?”

“Expensive shoes,” Ayako answered, tapping the box with her nails.

Mai blinked, surprised at the woman's cool certainty.

What makes her so sure?

“What about perfume?”

“Perfume? No. It's shoes, and probably a dress too.”

“What do you mean, no? Perfume makes a nice gift. And jewelry. Two-thousand yen says there's a necklace.”

“Good gifts, according to 2 am infomercials. Your singleness is showing.”

“Ah, so you've been watching them too?”

Mai reached over and took the packages out of the priestess' distracted arms.

“We're here,” she announced, digging in her sweatshirt pocket for her key. That was when her gaze, as if drawn, fell on it. Unoccupied, room thirteen.

Naru.

With mixed feelings, Mai stared at the spot she had stood that morning. The familiar ache was present, but also, the thrill of anticipation.

He's coming back.

“What's with all the commotion out here?”

Torn from her thoughts, Mai saw the door to room twelve was open, an old man standing in it.

That neighbor.

Mai griped her key and quickly turned back to her door.

“So, it's you again. Should have known,” he began, recognizing her. The commotion (argument between Bou-san sand Ayako) behind Mai paused.

“Who's your friend?” Bou-san asked. Mai turned the key in her lock.

“Ah, your parents,” the old man continued, noticing Ayako and Bou-san. Mai nearly dropped her key.

Parents...?

“I tell you, you ought to have better control of your daughter. I couldn't sleep at all because of her boy chasing, pounding on the door next to mine well after midnight, and then, she was back at it even before the sun was up--”

The boxes Mai held were suddenly plucked from her. With a firm shove from a perfectly manicured hand, Mai stumbled into her room.

“You hear that? This is all your fault. You should reflect on your poor parenting,” Ayako announced, backing in after Mai, smirking at the bewildered monk in front of her. Then, in a tone just he could hear, “We're going to spend some mother-daughter time. See you at dinner.”

“What kind of father...” was the last thing Mai heard before the door was shut.

“Boy chasing?” Ayako asked with an arch glance.

“Forget it, mom.”

“Fine, but only because we have bigger fish to fry.” The miko held out the packages, “If you don't get these open, I will.”

Mai took the packages, bringing them over to her unmade bed. Ayako made a disapproving face, but held her tongue. Mai's mind began to race. The same questions cycled through her head: who? Why?

Again, she looked for some form of identification. But her delivery was unmarked.  

“Enough stalling. I'll do it.”

Ayako picked up the smaller box and expertly slipped the wrap off. Then she did the same to the larger one. Mai's heart pounded in her ears.

The two of them stared down at the unwrapped boxes.

“Hi-ro-ko Ko-shi-no,” Mai spoke, reading the name elegantly printed there.

“Hiroko Koshino...I recognize the brand-- they have a store in Ginza. I visit them sometimes. When I'm in the mood to treat myself.”

“Really?” Mai murmured, her curiosity mounting. Turning the large box over in her hands, she pulled at the corner, and the top came off. Buried in scented tissue paper was a dress, lace and rich burgundy. Mai stared, stunned. Next to her, Ayako had no patience for her shock. The priestess snatched up the smaller box, the lid was gone in an instant.

“I called it,” Ayako remarked with satisfaction, “Shoes. And a dress. That monk owes me 2,000 yen.”

“Oh, they even match,” Ayako persisted, holding up the pair of lace flats next to the dress Mai held.  

It's a complete outfit.

Standing there, considering the pair of luxurious gifts and how they came to be hers, Mai could feel Ayako's intent gaze.

“Ah, the spoils of having a rich lover. I'm jealous.”

Mai blinked at the miko, only half listening, “Hm? What do you mean...?”

Ayako set the shoes down on the bed and gestured at them,

“I mean, if I wanted something like this, I'd have to be prepared to fork over 30,00 yen.”

30,000 ?!

The dress slipped from Mai's fingers.

“What? That kind of money-- I can't wear these! I don't even know who they're from! Who could afford such an expensive gift?”

Ayako bent down and collected the abandoned dress, her eyes narrowed critically. She made show of smoothing the lace, before giving a simple answer,

“Your rich lover.”

Mai crossed her arms in protest,

“Ayako-- I'm being serious.”

The miko fixed her with a look, “So am I. You think rent in Shibuya is cheap?”

A heartbeat passed.

“Shibuya...”

She means--

“If I had known he had gone to Tokyo for a shopping trip, I would have made him take me along.”

Mai grabbed the dress back.

Naru?

She inspected the seams, the tag...but it was no use, no trace of the sender was stitched there.

No way.

“Cinderella time.” Ayako pressed the pair of shoes into Mai's arms.

“Cinderella?” Mai repeated, being coaxed towards the bathroom.

The miko shrugged at her,

“Well, if he's not your rich lover, then what else but your prince charming?”

Mai halted and made to object, but taking her shoulders, the priestess directed her straight into the bathroom,

“No? Okay...I guess he's just your generous boss who likes to drop 60,000 on his employees. Nothing special. Let me know when it's my turn, will you?”

“60,000? I thought you said 30,000?”

“That was just the shoes. The dress easily costs as much. Probably more. Now quit checking out price tags and get them on, we don't have all day.”

And with that Ayako closed the bathroom door. Mai leaned her forehead against it. Speaking through it, she protested,

“But we don't know if it's even from him.”

“60,000 yen says the dress and shoes are exactly your size.”

Mai's felt heat rise to her cheeks at the miko's muffled answer,

“The size...? How would he know--”

“I was hoping you could tell me.”

That Ayako.

“There's no use denying it,” the priestess continued, unrelenting,“What kind of man buys a woman flats instead of heels...unless they know what a klutz they are? It's from him. So, do you have it on yet? Let's see...”

“No. You distracted me,” Mai answered irritably, leaning back from the door. On the other side she could hear the miko rummaging around, muttering something about ungrateful people and going to dinner in her robes.

Mai sighed, and began undressing. Off came her hoodie.

4,000 yen.

Then her t-shirt.

1,000 yen.

And her jean shorts.

3,000 yen.

Mai reached for the lace dress, and paused.

30,000 yen...

That was almost enough money to pay for a month's groceries. Could she really wear something like that?

Is it really from...

“This a place is a wreck, how do you live like this? And your suitcase is completely empty, don't tell me you haven't been doing laundry...?”

I have nothing else...and Ayako's waiting...

Equal parts embarrassed and pleased, Mai unzipped the dress and slipped it over her head.

It was the exact size. Just as Ayako had said. Mai gazed at her reflection in the mirror, studying the details: the flattering cut, the hem falling just below her knees. Her arms were sleeved in intricate lace. The two cutouts at her waist were the only skin shown, the top of the dress coming up around her neck, delicate and modest.

“...and put a load in with mine tonight, really what were you planning on? You'll end up smelling like Bou-san. Are you done?”

“Not yet,” Mai answered, glancing at the shoes,“but the dress fits.”

“What did I tell you?”

Mai flushed, stubbornly ignoring the remark. Her attention then turned to her feet. Mai crouched down, her fingers trailing along her injuries. Relieved to see the skin mostly healed, she reached for the lace flats.

Another 30,000...

Each shoe on, Mai flexed her toes. Again, a perfect fit.

How...?

“What's taking so long, are you stuck? I'm coming in,” Ayako announced, opening the bathroom door.

Mai straightened, self-consciously adjusting the dress. The miko's keen gaze swept over her.

“Mm, very nice. You look every cent of 60,000.”

“It's comfortable,” Mai countered, still bothered by the price tag.

“Even the shoes...?” the miko asked, approaching her.

“Even the shoes.”

“Well done. He knows every inch of you, hm?”

“Ayako--”

“You're healing up nicely,” she went on, leaning down to study Mai's feet, “Good.”

“Can I keep the bandages off, do you think that's okay?” Mai wondered,

Ayako moved around her, coming to stand next the empty bathtub.

“I think so, you did fine yesterday. Just let me know how you feel after tonight,” she answered, reaching in and plugging the drain. Mai watched as the miko turned the cold water faucet on full.

“What are you doing?”

“What you should have done already.”

Ayako disappeared from the room, and reappeared a second later with a dress laid over her arm.

Originally pink, it was splotched red and brown. A chill ran through Mai. It was her dress from the night before.

“Let it soak, some of the blood may still come out...” Ayako mused, submerging the dress.

Mai stared. Absently she placed a hand to her chest. A heavy weight rested there again.

“Alright, now for makeup and hair. Everything is back in my room, l'll get it.”

“Ayako,” Mai spoke, her gaze still lingering on the bath, “what did you do with your outfit?”

The priestess paused. Her lips twisted into a bitter pout,

“It wasn't salvageable. I threw it out.”

A stark memory replayed in Mai's mind: Ayako, tending to the injured theater goers, the white she was wearing marred with streaks of red.

It wasn't salvageable.

“Hey, what's that face for...?”

Mai shook her head,

“Never mind. Thank you for helping.”

“Helping? This is nothing,” she answered gesturing at the pink dress, “You should see your room, you won't recognize it. God, I really am your mother...”

And with that the priestess left the bathroom. She returned some minutes later to find Mai perched on the counter, still facing the bathtub. Mai allowed the miko to go to work, creams, powders, liners...

“Close your eyes” Ayako ordered.

Obediently Mai shut them, feeling the swipe of a brush across her eyelids. It was then that she noticed it. How tired she was.

I hardly slept last night...

Passing in and out of exhausted consciousness, Mai's thoughts wandered, but they weren't aimless. Relentlessly, they cycled back to one thing...the dress soaking a few feet from her.

The other ghost.

“Quit frowning, you're ruining my work. You can open your eyes now.”

Mai swallowed, surfacing from her reverie, blinking blurrily. Her eyes wanted nothing more than to close again.

“Just say it.”

“Hm?”

“Something is bothering you.”

Mai hesitated. There was so much couldn't just say.

“I was just wondering...” she finally said, “about the case.”

Ayako made a considering noise, “Still uneasy? Is that it? Don't be. I personally saw to two exorcisms today. Really, all that is left to do is announce that we've cleared the haunting. Case closed.”

Mai's brow furrowed,

“What happened at the theater was dangerous,” she persisted in the face of the miko's self-assuredness.

“We've handled worse than Mr. Miyuki.”

Mr. Miyuki.

Further weight pressed against Mai's chest.

“What if...but what if we're missing something? We need more time to investigate.”

Ayako's trademark smirk emerged,

“Weren't you listening? Two exorcisms today. Whatever was there, is gone.”

The priestess' bravado in full force, Mai gave up the argument. With a guilty conscience, she forced herself too look away from the bath and it's haunting reminder of the secret she was keeping.

The other ghost.

“Here, let's do something with that hair.”

Ayako zipped up her makeup bag and stepped back, allowing Mai space to slip down from the counter. Mai turned and stared into the mirror.

“Pretty good, hm?” Ayako quipped, seeing Mai's expression, “I thought a smokey eye might be nice for a change. Suits you.”

“It's...perfect.”

Mai continued to gaze at herself. She wouldn't say it out loud, but Ayako had been right. She felt like Cinderella.

The miko's expert fingers went to work again. Sprays and bobby pins later, the front sections of Mai's hair were braided back, the rest left down.

“There. Very classy. If I didn't know better, I'd say you'd were some rich heiress.”

A dress and shoes from a designer in Tokyo.

60,000 yen.

“It's comfortable,” Mai repeated, modestly. But her heart raced. She couldn't help but imagine the moment she would see Naru.

“What time is it, already a quarter past five...? I need to head back.” Ayako announced, gathering her things.

Mai followed the priestess from the bathroom, and got her first look at her bedroom. Mai blinked in surprise. She didn't recognize it. The window was cracked open to let fresh air in. The bed was made. There were no clothes strewn about the floor-- in fact she saw none of her clothes at all. Not the green dress loaned to her from Nari. Not the shirt and shorts she borrowed from Ayako. Her suitcase was missing.

“Smells better, doesn't it?” Ayako remarked, with grim satisfaction, “It should. I took out those old food trays you had piled up. Honestly, I don't know how you live...”

“Where did you put it all?” Mai wondered, glancing at the tidy corners of her room.

“I stole your suitcase. I'll be doing laundry later. Everything else you had laying around is folded. Along with some festival greatest hits I found crumpled under your bed,” Ayako answered admonishingly, “I figured you'd want to return them.”

Festival greatest hits...?

Mai's gaze fell on something colorful stacked at the foot of her bed.

“I'll see you in thirty, meet me outside John's room,” Ayako instructed on her way out the door. A rustle of robes and she was gone.

Mai let out a long breath. Careless of her hair, she threw herself across her bed. She was so tired.

Mai laid there, the last twenty-four hours running on a jumbled replay through her mind:

The theater.

The blood.

Mr. Sachi and Miss Miyuki.

Nari's near miss.

The pink dress.

Mrs. Motoshi.

Not friends.

The other ghost.

Naru taking her hand.

Naru helping her clean up.

Naru looking pale.

Naru gone.

Naru.

Naru.

Naru...

Mai blinked and cleared her throat. It suddenly felt tight. Her stare shifted from the ceiling to her sleeves. She studied the lace detail.

Is this really...from him?

Mai's heart fluttered. She sat up, blaming it on palpitations. That was when she caught sight of it again. The stack. Her festival greatest hits. Mai frowned, realizing that Ayako wasn't far off the mark. Sitting there were the forgotten dresses of festival days past.

Mai snatched at the bottom of the stack, effectively destroying it (sorry Ayako!). In surprise, she held up a dress of pale blue satin. Mrs. Koku had given it to her, the very first night of the festival.

I never gave it back...?

With growing guilt, Mai examined the rest of the ruined stack. Threads of purple and silver. The kimono Masako had lent her. Mai winced at the dirt stain marring the perfect brocade. Before thoughts of manhandling could surface, she turned her attention to the next dress. Dark green and velvet.

Ah, here's Nari's...

Mai's cheeks grew warm. The actress had been so generous. Mai had meant to return it right away.

I hope she's not in trouble with the costume department because of me.

Mai set to straightening the stack into something orderly again. She made a new promise to make good on her loans. Mai found herself restless, distracted.

The pink dress, soaking in the bathtub, haunted her. Ignoring it, her mind then treacherously fixated on the dress she was wearing now. How right it felt. How perfect it was. The best of any of the dresses she had worn. A persistent voice whispered that the person who had picked it out had done so with care...and if that person was Naru, then that must mean...

Her face growing hot again (for an entirely different reason), Mai firmly banished any further thought.  Her eyes searched the room, but caught on the edge of the bed. Blue satin shimmered there. Mai hesitated. She glanced out the window, attempting to read the darkening sky. How late was it...would she even have the time...?

With a groan, Mai stood. She had made up her mind. She would do it. Against her better judgment, she snatched up the blue satin dress once again and left.

The hall outside Mai's door was unusually quiet. Mai took this as an encouraging sign and hurried on her way. She past John's room-- there was no Ayako.

Good, still early.

Mai's footsteps slowed as she neared the lobby. She began to doubt herself. She recalled her earlier encounter with the old inn keeper, the woman's snide comments and suspicions. The last thing Mai wanted was to be the subject of another spectacle. She readjusted the dress that was draped over her arm.

I'll just hand her the dress, say thank you, and walk away...simple.

Mai approached the lobby counter, for a moment she entertained half a hope that no one would be there, but as luck would have it (or not), it was occupied. Mrs. Koku stood there, sorting through mail.

A moment past. Then another. Mrs. Koku continued sorting, occasionally turning to stick letters in cubby holes with room numbers printed next to them.

Mai cleared her throat.

Nothing.

Unnoticed, but not about to shout and attract attention, Mai placed the dress on the counter. The inn keeper's head snapped up. Seeing Mai, her surprised gaze...narrowed.

Mai bowed her head and gestured to the dress.

“Sorry that it's late, thank you for letting me borrow it.”

“HUH?”

Eager to be free of her charge, Mai tried again.

“I said, thank you for--”

“WHAT'S THIS YOU'VE PUT HERE? A DRESS...?”

Mai heard voices in the hall, people were coming. She needed to be gone.

“On the first day of the festival, you let me borrow--”

“WAIT, I THINK I RECOGNIZE THIS-- YES, THIS WAS MY SUKI'S. WHY DO YOU--”

The voices were loud now. Whoever it was, they were nearly there. The word spectacle flashed through Mai's mind. In a panic, she answered,

“YOU CAN HAVE IT BACK.”

Flustered, she ducked her head in another bow and stepped away from the counter. As before, she had made it halfway through the lobby when a second voice boomed after her.

“I CAME OUT BECAUSE I HEARD A RAISED VOICE, WHAT'S THE COMMOTION?”

“OH, IT WAS THAT GIRL. YOU KNOW THE ONE. SHE'S JUST MADE HERSELF CLEAR. OUR POOR NIKO, SHE NO LONGER THINKS OF HIM NOW. I CAN'T BELIEVE HER NERVE, WALKING UP TO ME WEARING ANOTHER MAN'S SHIRT. SHAMELESS, I TELL YOU-- SHAMELESS.”

Heat burned Mai's cheeks.

Another man's...what?!

Just then the “voices” from the hall entered the lobby. Mai fled the scene, leaving behind the offended Kokus' and the nosy onlookers.

So much for simple.

Her temper and skin were still hot when she reached the part of the hall where Ayako stood waiting, outside of John's room. Catching sight of her, Bou-san waved from beside the miko.

Mai quickly attempted to gather herself, willing her cheeks to lose their color. The last thing she wanted was to have to explain the last few moments. She waved back. Reaching them, a low whistle greeted her.

“Well, would you look at that?”

Mai followed the monk's gaze to her dress.

“What? It's nice.”

Bou-san smiled.

“Very nice.”

“You'll notice the distinct lack of jewelry and tale-tell whiff of perfume,” Ayako interjected, she held out an open hand, “Where's my 2,000?”

Bou-san shrugged, “Sorry, I spent it on this tie.”

Ayako scoffed,

“Which you're wearing like a noose, are you a monk or a caveman?”

The next instant the miko was shoving her clutch into Bou-san's hands, her own going to work at his throat.

Relieved at the change of attention, regaining her composure, Mai allowed herself a chance to study her parents. Not that you could look anywhere else. They made quite a statement.

Ayako was dressed in an strappy hot pink number, which hugged every one of her curves. Her lips, heels, and nails were red. Her hair fell in red waves around her bare shoulders. What Mai could see of Bou-san around the miko throttling him, were peaks of sleek black dress pants, a white shirt, not buttoned all the way, and a deep purple blazer. The tie he was wearing, which Ayako had finally managed to untangle, matched.

The door to the room next to them opened and out walked John.

“Ah,” he spoke, acknowledging Ayako and Bou-san, “you are here...I thought I heard voices-- oh, hello Mai.”

“Oy, you're choking me.”

“It's a tie, quit whining.”

Escaping the miko, Bou-san pulled at his collar.

Ayako snatched her clutch back from the monk, and swatted him in the arm with it.

“Caveman.”

Mai felt someone bump into her. It was a young woman, she smiled and apologized, but she wasn't out of ear shot when Mai heard her hushed gushing:

“I think that's her-- the one from the lobby...”

“Did you see her dress?”

“Expeeeensive.”

“How is that, isn't she apart of that paranormal team?”

“Oh, she isn't paying, that's for sure. Didn't you hear about the rich lovers she keeps in the city?”

Spectacle.

Mai frowned, crossing her arms. The hall was getting too full.

John noticed this also. He suggested they move on. The idea was quickly agreed to, and the young priest lead them into a swell of people headed for the dining room.

As they made their way through the inn, Mai kept her head down, avoiding eye contact with passersby, but it wasn't long before more whispered gossip reached her ears...

“So, he finally decided to stake a claim, eh? That's quite the down payment.”

“My educated guess? No less than six figures.”

Mai threw a dangerous look over her shoulder. She knew those voices. Her gaze flicked between the monk and the priestess trailing behind her. She caught their conspiring body language.

That Ayako.

“You have to admit, it's bit surprising. He's not usually this heavy handed.”

“Eh, he must have been nervous, leaving her with alone with Niko around and all.”

“Good point.”

That Bou-san.

Flushing, Mai turned from them. Seeking refuge, she fell into step with John.

“I meant to tell you earlier, you look very nice-- was that the gift you received?” he spoke with a kind nod towards her.

Gossip still ringing in her ears, Mai nodded back,

“Yes, it is.”

She gestured to the suit the young priest was wearing,

“You look very nice too. I can't figure how you and the others thought to bring such dressy clothes...if it weren't for my donations I'd be wearing jeans to the festival.”

John gave a small smile, rubbing at the back of his neck,

“To tell the truth, I didn't think of it. I only brought the basics-- a suit definitely wasn't on the list.”

Mai titled her head at him,

“But then...?”

John adjusted the bow-tie at his neck,

“It's a rental,” he confided sheepishly, “I can't speak for the others, but Bou-san and I rent our suits. There's a man who offers them...isn't he at your festival meetings too?”

Mai shook her head, thinking back to the last festival meeting she had attended. It had been awhile, but she didn't recall anyone hawking dresses.

“So, that explains it,” she murmured, her mind wandering over the variety of looks Bou-san had sported.

It was then that the crowds surrounding them parted. Double doors swung open to admit people inside. They had arrived at the dinging room.  

Mai halted, her heart suddenly racing.

Naru.

Was he there waiting?

A touch at her shoulder. Mai jumped, a hand coming to her chest. There it was again, that weight. She felt so close to shifting it now...

“Mai, aren't you coming...?”

Mai met John's wondering stare. The whispers of those around her were growing.

“That's her isn't it?”

“What's she doing?”

“Look at her blocking the way, doesn't she have any manners?”

“I bet she's waiting for someone.”

“You think? But she already came with someone...”

“So?”

Spectacle.

Mai took hold of John's arm and they passed through the doors.