#it was very sweet but i have trouble believing her because 1. she drinks heavily and 2. just got out of a long term relationship lol

[larentslovechaos]

You had a daaaaate? 🥺👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

hiii yes I guess you could call it that! 🥺

I just hung out at the bar with a girl I dated when we were pretty much just kids lol (we were like 13). but we've been very good friends/also a recurring situationship for a very long time. we were just hanging out with her friends, but she did buy my drinks, so yeah i guess you could call that a date, right?

i did sleep over her house the other night though, which was very nice. I'd like to think things haven't been *this* serious with us before. but I could be wrong. at many points over the years we were very much a recurring situationship, but this feels different. guess we'll see where it goes..

[imagining-in-the-margins]

I'm here! Finally answering these Anon Asks!

1. It is real (for now) 😅 It'll be very different than before - exclusive to Paramount+, not including all of the original cast*, only 10 episodes, and will be focused on one case rather than a procedural.

* The main S15 cast was invited back. Kirsten is not returning, and I think Daniel Henney will be busy on his new show. Matthew mentioned not really wanting to, but he was willing to reconsider. Paget and Joe have been very vocal supporters of the reboot, but Paget has been calling for fans to support her in negotiations.

We'll see. Not much has been decided yet. You can read more here.

2. You're my favorite and I hope you get all the hugs and kisses you desire, friend 😚

3. Yeah... I really blame the writers. They clearly wanted her to be some weird, stereotypical "spunky" girl. But, naturally, the writing team is riddled with misogyny and a deep misunderstanding of women, lmao. RLC is an amazing actress. I don't know what she could have done to save that mess of a character.

I really think her character was unnecessary on top of all of that. Spencer's final arc was about how he spent his whole life basing his worth and purpose on the women in his life (his Mother, JJ, Maeve, Cat). Date Night would have been a lot more meaningful if, after he got closure with Cat, he realized that he was still his own person, and would continue to exist after she was gone, and that he was going to be okay.

They could've done something great... but, alas...

4. Awe, of course! Like I mentioned before, I am planning on collecting Dad!Spencer fics to post on Father's Day. I hope that they all comfort you and reassure you that, even though your Father failed you, there are still so many people who will love and appreciate you, and we want you to know it!

5. So, there is a sequel to the book (which I have not read!) where he ends up in a remarkably similar situation. Here is the summary:

A month after narrowly surviving the most harrowing night of his life, Chip Taylor is living in a seedy, pay-by-the-week motel in a sleepy coastal town in Florida. He still has most of the 68 grand he and his crazy ex-girlfriend stole back in Tennessee, but he's a man living at loose ends, directionless and without a plan. He's drinking too much and surrendering to too many of the same temptations that landed him in so much trouble in the first place. It isn't long before Chip finds himself wrapped up in another nightmarish descent into bloody madness and chaos. And this time his survival is more in doubt than ever.

That is, obviously, super depressing, lmao. Probably realistic, too, honestly. I personally like to believe that he got a decent job and lived a modest life. He met a very sweet person that treated him well. He got therapy and spent the rest of his life being perfectly mediocre and happy about it. But to be honest, I haven't thought about it a lot!

6. Angst is a category of literature, although the term is usually used exclusively in fanfiction. Here is a simple definition from Urban Dictionary that, I feel, summarizes it well:

An adjective describing a situation or literary piece which contains dark, depressing, angry, and/or brooding emotions from the participating characters.

7. Ugh, I'm so sorry that you had a bad experience. Medications can be so hard. For you for take steps, even in such a state, to try to self-soothe is extremely impressive and you should be proud of yourself!

I'm glad you exist, too, and I'm so happy to hear that my mindless Spotify collections provided you some comfort in such an awful time.

I hope you have a wonderful day, too. Long-term medication regimens are seriously exhausting, and you are doing a great job. Keep it up, friend! You deserve so much happiness in life, and I'm so proud of you for taking care of yourself the best you can.

8. [NSFW] Hi friend! I can't say much on this subject, as I'm not a lesbian myself, but I do want to assure you that I've heard other lesbians, gay men, and aroace people express similar sentiments!

The truth is, to me, erotica is completely different aspect of enjoyment than the physical acts of sex. There are many things I enjoy reading or watching that I would never engage in physically. When you view erotica as a form of expression, separate from the expression of physicality, you might find that the true divide isn't the gender of the characters, but the emotions and connections established.

TL;DR, I'm very sorry you're feeling confused, but I know a ton of lesbians who enjoy reading het erotica, and you shouldn't necessarily feel like you are less valid of a lesbian because you like erotica works (written predominantly by women, mind you!).

Also, if your friends mock you for reading fanfiction, they kind of sound like jerks. There isn't much difference between fanfic and published works such as Outlander, which have remarkable success. You could always just say you read that (the smut scenes are, IMO, significantly less cringy in Outlander than other mainstream erotica, such as 50 Shades).

I hope that you get some relief from the frustration you're feeling. If you decide that you're bisexual and just heavily lean to women, I am happy to celebrate that with you, but I'm just as excited to celebrate if you decide that you are still a lesbian! 💕

Best of luck, friend. I'm happy you're here no matter what ☺️

[agduna-central]

First Love

An Agduna story i wrote as Secret Santa on our Agduna Discord server for @itsmecollington

I had the choice between three wishes: 1. teen Agduna sharing a sweet moment outside as the sun sets over the fjord’s water 2. teen Agduna holding hands as Gale floats them gently in the air (like in the deleted scene but relaxed) (setting is up to you!) 3. teen Agduna drinking hot chocolate and laughing together

And then i thought why not take all of them for the story. This is the result and i hope you like it. Enjoy.

***

Agnarr

Both were exhausted and stopped breathing heavily. He stood bent over and had his hands on his knees while he did not let Iduna out of his sight. Iduna, however, only wiped the sweat from her forehead and had a triumphant expression on her face. They had been playing hide and seek during the last hour, giving each other nothing. He didn't give up and kept chasing after her, touching her according to the rules of the game. But she was quick, fled from him and skillfully avoided all his attempts to pat her down. However, Iduna had help from this magical being and took advantage of this benefit mercilessly. So he was clearly at a disadvantage. She smiled at him.

"Well, have you had enough now?"

"Of course not! But let me first catch my breath a little, then we'll continue. I'll get you soon enough," he replied and looked at her with a slightly angry look. "If you didn't have the help of this...wind...thing, the whole thing would look very different, believe me."

"This wind thing, as you call it, is named Gale and is one of the four Spirits. Gale is my friend," Iduna explained to him and proudly crossed her arms in front of her chest.

He straightened up and looked at her while he slowly recovered. She was so different from the girls in Arendelle; he thought. So confident, resolved and bold. He liked her, although she behaved so disrespectfully to him, the Prince of Arendelle. But beyond that, he liked her too. She looked so sweet when she smiled.

"The way you...made Gale twirl me around in the air earlier and then let me plop to the ground in this degrading way was really unfair. You had your fun with me, it was obvious," he lamented and looked at her as determinedly as she was looking at him right now. But on the other hand, he also had a lot of fun.

This feeling of floating in the air high up near the treetops had been incredibly exciting. His heart was pounding in his chest as he looked down with nothing but air under his feet and the surrounding world revolved around him. In the end, she had given him a nudge on the nose and grinningly said "Boop!" She had clearly won the game, but he couldn't blame her for that. He wanted more of it.

Iduna just smiled and shrugged her shoulders. For a moment they just stood there and assessed each other with glances. Then he sighed.

"Do you think Gale would listen to me, too?" he asked. "I mean, can I get this Wind Spirit to make me float as you can?"

Iduna raised her eyebrows and thought for a second. Then she shook her head.

"I don't think that's possible. But I can tell him that he will just lift us both up and let us both float quietly for a while."

He nodded, "All right. But no tricks this time. Promise?"

"Promise!" she said and then shouted loudly for Gale. A moment later, leaves spun up, circled around her and played with her long hair. She giggled because it apparently tickled her neck. A few leaves now floated in front of her face, circling around an imaginary spot in the air. She held one hand next to her mouth and whispered something to the leaves that he could not understand. It looked kind of strange what she was doing. Then the leaves suddenly came towards him and he automatically took a few steps back.

'Now don't be such a coward, he thought, and stopped expectantly. A powerful air stream whirled around him and he felt the power behind it. Slowly Gale pushed him upwards and his feet came off the ground. He floated now and immediately this euphoric feeling was back. His clothes fluttered around him and the wind whizzed through his hair. He spread his arms wide and laughed. This time it went very slowly and he climbed more and more. Iduna floated up with him and, smiling, came closer at the same height. They climbed further and further and his heartbeat raced. This time, however, with joy. Then they passed the tops of the trees and were suddenly above the forest.

He hadn't expected this sight, and he hadn't imagined that they would both climb so high. Frightened, he rowed with his arms, but there was nothing to hold on to. Only air. Iduna noticed his fear and let herself be carried even closer to him. She grabbed his hands and stabilized him, giving him the support he needed. He looked at her gratefully and smiled. Then he could look around in peace. What an incredible experience; he thought. The view from up here was simply phenomenal.

The wind rustled in his ears and so he was a little louder than he wanted to be.

"That's fantastic, Iduna!" he shouted.

Iduna bent to his ear, "Not so loud, Agnarr! We don't want to draw attention to ourselves, do you hear?"

He opened his eyes and nodded violently when the situation became clear to him. No imagining what would happen if his father saw him like that. He now concentrated fully on Iduna and felt the safe, warm grip of her hands. They were now very close and their faces were only a handbreadth apart. He looked deeply into her eyes and began to sink into them. She held his gaze and smiled at him. Something was happening between the two of them as they floated silently on the spot. There was suddenly a completely new feeling inside him and he felt it in his stomach. It was like a swarm of butterflies and warmth was spreading inside.

He experienced a strong affection for her, an attraction he had never felt before. He could not name it, but he knew in that moment that he wanted to be near her all the time. A deep desire made him tilt his head towards her, but then he hesitated. He couldn't just kiss a strange girl, high up and floating in the air. Embarrassed, he lowered his gaze, saw their feet dangling freely in the air, and the ground below suddenly seemed to be infinitely far away. It would have been better if he hadn't done that now; he suddenly became aware of it, and the butterflies in his stomach had suddenly become something else. Something that wanted to go up by force, through his throat and out.

He noticed that Iduna looked at him as he began to turn green in the face, causing Gale to gently slide them both down.

"Do not look down, Agnarr! Just look at me, okay?"

He nodded and followed her advice. His grip on her hands became tighter and he swallowed hard. 'Just don't throw up now', he thought. He closed his eyes and opened them again as soon as he realized that this only made things worse. She giggled and he just found the situation even more embarrassing.

When they were back down on safe ground he took a few deep breaths in and out. A gentle breeze cooled his face and only now did he realize that he was a little cold. Unlike Iduna in her warm reindeer skin clothing, he only wore his thin city clothes and they were not made for this climate, especially not for situations like this. But slowly he started to feel better again.

"Thank you, Iduna, for this extraordinary experience! It just got a little cold up there and I could use a cup or two of hot chocolate. It warms so nicely from the inside."

Iduna looked at him questioningly, "Hot chocolate? What is it?"

"Hold on, you do not know chocolate? For real? Oh, man, you really missed something. This is the best taste you can ever imagine. Sweet and melt-in-the-mouth. As hot chocolate, it's just dreamy."

"We don't have anything like that here. Apart from honey, we don't have anything sweet here and even that we don't eat very often, because wild honey is not so easy to come by," Iduna said and shrugged her shoulders regretfully.

"We absolutely must remedy that. I can have this drink made for you in our camp. You will be thrilled," Agnarr replied eagerly, looking forward to returning the favor and spending more time with her.

But Iduna shook her head, she even looked a bit frightened; he thought as he believed to recognize in her facial expression.

"I am not allowed in your camp. If I'm seen there, I'll be in big trouble.

"Well, I'll bring you a cup of it," he said understandingly. "Just wait there at the edge of the forest for my return. It won't take very long."

Iduna swayed her head and thought for a moment. Then she finally smiled and nodded. "All right. I'll wait for you there."

"I'll be right back. I promise!" Then he turned around and hurried off.

***

Nevertheless, the following events took a completely different course and his memories became blurred. The first thing he remembered was waking up in his bed in Arendelle and the doctors of the castle taking care of him. What had happened before remained hidden from him. There was only a blurry image in his head, the face of a pretty young girl on a cart beside him, and he thought he remembered handing her a bar of chocolate.

***

Iduna

More than a month had passed and she now lived in Arendelle in the orphanage and had daily classes in the castle. She wanted to look around the town a bit more today and after that she wanted to go for a walk by the fjord.

She just had passed a store where chocolate was sold and immediately memories came back to her. Memories of a promise that unfortunately could not be kept due to the events of that time. Worse of all, Agnarr did not remember their experience together with Gale, her friend the Wind Spirit. She had recognized this from his behavior during her last encounters. Ever since he hit his head on that rock, he didn't even know who and most importantly, what she was. And it was better that way; she thought.

She walked on, deeply lost in thought, and only then did she realize that she was almost at the fjord when she arrived at the great weir wall. She looked up at the wall and saw the reddish glow in the clouds above. The sun set soon and it had already become late. But now she was already here and could just as well watch the sunset at the fjord.

She entered the gate and the city guard let her pass. Once outside, she looked around for a suitable place to sit down comfortably. But the most comfortable place seemed to be already occupied and it was the young king Agnarr, of all people, who sat there and two guards, who leaned against the wall far enough away but still within shouting distance behind him and talked.

She hesitated. Should she simply walk over to Agnarr or turn around and go back to the city? His guards had already noticed her, too, and were now looking at her suspiciously. She was already about to turn her back to the fjord when Agnarr saw her and waved to her.

"Iduna!"

The guards relaxed again, and she couldn't just walk away again now that the young king had noticed her. It would be more than just rude; she thought. She sighed softly and marched towards him with measured steps.

"Your Majesty," she said with a slight bow as she reached him, and he pointed beside her to offer her a seat. She sat down next to him on his blanket and nervousness blossomed in her. Here on the fjord the air had become quite cool at this time of day and a light breeze was tugging at her hair.

"Iduna, you know you don't have to talk to me like that when we're alone."

"I know, Agnarr. It's just because of your two guards who keep an eye on us."

He took a quick look back, smiled at her, and waved. "Don't worry about them. So you have the same idea today as I did... to enjoy the sunset on the Arenfjord. I am very happy that destiny brought us together here."

She didn't know what to answer. Sitting here with the young king on the shore made her a bit nervous. She couldn't handle him as well as she did in the forest thus admit that they had known each other for a long time and had feelings for each other. So she just nodded and looked at him a bit shyly.

Agnarr smiled. "May I perhaps offer you something to drink?" he asked and reached into a basket behind him. "It will warm us a little from the inside, now that it is already getting colder at the fjord."

"What is it?" she asked and followed his hand with her gaze. He opened the lid, took out a clay cup and handed it to her. Then he pulled out a small bulbous carafe from under a blanket in the basket and unplugged it. It steamed from the opening into the cool air above. "I love hot tea. Thank you, Agnarr," she said with a smile and held the cup out to him.

"No tea, Iduna. Much better! It's hot chocolate."

She almost dropped the mug and was speechless. He had kept his old promise and did not even know it. She stared at him and the sweet smell of chocolate wafted over to her. The taste of chocolate was familiar to her by now, he had finally given her a bar of it on the cart and it tasted heavenly. But in liquid form? She stretched out her hand and he poured the dark liquid into her cup.

She gently sipped it and then took a bigger gulp. Agnarr watched her closely and his grin grew wider and wider. "Hmm...," she hummed in delight and closed her eyes.

"Well, did I promise too much?" he asked.

"It tastes heavenly," she replied and drank the cup empty. He laughed.

"More?"

She nodded vehemently and held the cup out to him. "Aren't you drinking with us?" she asked while he gave her a refill.

"Well, I hadn't expected visitors and so I only took one drinking vessel with me. But that's no problem, I drink it quite often in the castle. But you don't seem to know it yet and I'm glad that we have the same taste. So you are welcome to drink the carafe empty while the chocolate is still warm," he said and put the vessel back into the basket.

"Thank you, Agnarr, that's sweet of you," she replied smiling and took another sip.

The sun was already very low and its reddish ball was reflected glittering in the rippling water of the fjord. It had become quiet and even the two guards had interrupted their conversation and now enjoyed the picturesque sight as much as they did.

Agnarr slipped back a bit to give her a better view and his hand landed on hers. They looked at each other and after a few moments she turned her hand around and enclosed his. No words were necessary. Both enjoyed the presence of the other and at some point Agnarr slid closer to her and put his arm around her. She smiled and after a while her head sank contentedly on his shoulder and both watched the sun slowly sink.

***

[dragonologist-phd]

OC Interview

I was tagged by @risualto a while back for this!! I decided to use Desta, of course!

And I’ll tag @rannadylin @lunarowena @serenbach86 @haileyoc if y’all wanna do it!

Pick three companions who know your OC/muse well. Answer the questions from at least one of their companions’ points of view.  Name the three companions who will be answering here:

Siobhan- Kind Wayfarer mentor

Aloth- love interest

Tekehu- best friend

Are they ready to be candid with their responses? Don’t worry, this is totally private. Desta will never read it.

1. First Impressions. What was the first impression you had of Desta?

Siobhan: “She was a young thing, fresh on the road- you could tell because she didn’t know the first thing about handling a weapon. But she looked up at me with these big pleading eyes and I couldn’t turn her away. Plus she nearly got eaten by a drake and didn’t let that scare her off, so I at least knew she had some guts. So I took her under my wing and began showing her the ropes of the paladins.”

Aloth: “She helped me out of a rather unpleasant situation with some fellows in Gilded Vale. And I was grateful, of course. But aside from that I didn’t know what to make of her. She was a heavily armed stranger who appeared out of nowhere and was rambling about visions...despite being glad for a friendly face, I was still a bit wary. Luckily our relationship only improved from there.”

Tekehu: “I was quite enchanted to meet another one of the gods’ chosen! She probably wouldn’t appreciate my wording it that way, but that’s the truth. Not to say I didn’t also appreciate that she was an interesting, well-traveled newcomer with a refreshing irreverence for authority. I was quite enticed by the idea of getting to knew her better-“

Aloth: *frowns disapprovingly*

Tekehu: “-as a friend, seeing as it was soon clear that was all she desired between us.”

2. Desta walks into a bar. No, it’s not a joke - what does she order? If you give her a credit for the jukebox, what kind of music would she put on?

Siobhan: "Ha, you wouldn’t think it, but that girl has an iron stomach! Still, she’d probably stick to something lighter, and some upbeat music to go with it.”

Aloth: “She’s not a heavy drinker- she prefers sweet drinks, or perhaps a cider. And she likes dancing music, despite not being much of a dancer herself.”

Tekehu: "If this bar is in the Deadfire, there’s a pineapple drink I introduced her to that she quite enjoyed! As for music, she appreciates a good beat!”

3. How does Desta spend a day off from work?

Siobhan: "She’d still be off getting into trouble somewhere- that’s her idea of relaxing, which is probably why she fit in so well with the Wayfarers. We’re all a little bit like that.”

Aloth: "You’d probably find her out in her garden, if she’s at Caed Nua. When she doesn’t have that to distract her, however, she can’t stand days off. She usually ends up either exploring or helping people out with odd jobs, which are both technically still her job description.”

Tekehu: "Finding more work to do! I try to get her to relax more- I even offered to pay for a day at the Luminous Bathhouse. She simply has a restless soul.“

4. What silly superstitions or funny traditions does she observe?

Siobhan: "Nothing funnier than the other paladins. Most of us had good luck charms and things like that we carry around- Desta liked to make her own, these little flower chains that she would weave together. Not sure if she learned it from someone else or if it’s a Desta original.”

Aloth: "She still makes those flower charms! She also likes to make special meals for every new year that she says are good luck, which isn’t that strange- we do something not dissimilar in Aedyr. It’s simply that the food she makes involves a certain dish with beans that is...not very good. But please don’t tell her I said that. I don’t think she believes much in luck, but she seems to enjoy the cooking.”

Tekehu: “I taught her a few Deadfire traditions in our time together- she likes hearing about them, although I doubt she keeps up with any of them now.”

5. What does Desta wear to bed? And just how do you know that?

Siobhan: “When you’re on long journeys and sleeping in tents, you get to know what people wear to bed. Desta usually just fell asleep in whatever she happened to be wearing under her armor that day.”

Aloth: "When we travel, she can fall asleep in any position and in any clothing. When we’re not traveling- which is rare- she’s rather fond of roomy, comfortable clothing. (Modern AU: She has a collection of old sweatshirts, all at least one size too large, that she loves sleeping in.”

Tekehu: "I rarely see her out of some form of practical clothing, so I can only assume that is what she sleeps in. Ship life doesn’t offer much privacy, and yet I’ve never seen her in specific sleepwear of any kind. Also, our friend Aloth neglected to answer the second part of the question.”

Aloth: *flushes* “Well, I should think it goes without saying. We do not all have the need to be so...flagrant about our sleeping arrangements.”

6. Your favorite memory of Desta?

Siobhan: "I still remember the first time she managed to summon paladin flames through her weapon. You should have seen her face- I think she actually scared herself! But after the initial shock she was so excited...it was rather sweet, really.”

Aloth: “Well, there’s quite a few. It’s difficult to narrow it down. If I had to choose...I believe it would the first time I told her I loved her. And that was a private conversation, so that is all I will say on the matter.”

Tekehu: "We had many good adventures, but finding Ukaizo- that was a moment that cannot be outdone. And I never would have been there if not for Desta.”

7. A time you very nearly almost kissed Desta?

Siobhan: “Uh, no.”

Aloth: “Oh. Well, I suppose there were a few times before I actually did that I wanted to. One that sticks in my mind is before I left Caed Nua all those years ago...I knew by then how I felt for her, but I couldn’t do that to her right before I had to leave.”

Tekehu: “I admit, there have been occasions where the thought crossed my mind! She is a lovely woman, and very kind- our first trip to the Gullet, she was very comforting, and for a moment-”

Aloth: *disapproving frown intensifies*

Tekehu: “-I did nothing at all and we remained fast friends. I say, my companion here appears to coming down with some sort of affliction.”

8. Vacation time! Where do you take Desta for some R&R?

Siobhan: "Anywhere exciting! I heard tale of a nearby mountain cave being guarded by a dragon, I’m sure she’d love that!”

Aloth: “That sounds neither restful nor relaxing.”

Siobhan: “It is for us!”

Aloth: “That...explains quite a bit. In that vein, it’s difficult to imagine somewhere new she hasn’t been yet. It might be nice to take her to Aedyr. Perhaps not to meet my family- I’m not quite that comfortable with them yet- but there is some lovely scenery I could show her,”

Tekehu: "There are some lovely island we could visit, if she can stand the extra sailing time. But they are shores that haven’t seen explorers in many years, and I believe she would enjoy the experience!“

9. Desta’s sense of humor -is it dry, immature, sarcastic, self-deprecating, physical, witty, dark, or…?

Siobhan: "She was always an excitable girl- she finds just about anything funny. All in a very sweet way thought, she’s not prone to sarcasm or mockery.”

Aloth: "Desta appreciates puns. Originally I did not share that appreciation, but...I admit, her sense of humor has rubbed off on me, just a bit. Normally I would call it silly, but she has a talent for making me laugh no matter what mood I’m in.”

Tekehu: "Ah, yes, her puns are wonderful! She’s simply an entertaining person to be around- she tells hilarious stories!”

[horsepriest]

I did this OC meme on Twitter and got “Do all 40 and ramble on” as a response.  Here is the entire questionnaire and character sheet for Warlord Gresham.  This is fairly spoiler-free for Glimpse and is a snapshot of who he is now.   Content warning for sadism, torture, and Gresham basically being a sick fuck overall. 

Warlord Gresham

Basic stats:

Name: Gresham,     AKA The TwinHorn

Serial Number: W.03-c.017

Gender/Pronouns: Cis Male He/Him

Height: Approx.     15ft at shoulder. Nearly 20ft standing.

Species: Heavily     modified Liberated Vactyr with signs of Other corruption

Size Class: Titan     (Does not meet 20,000lbs requirement for Colossus Size Class)

Sexuality: Undefined

Romance: Undefined

Birthday: Jan.     17

Age: 42

Occupation: Warlord of the Firmament-Highest rank of the Off-world Military and direct servant of Adelie.

Weapons:  Gresham is a pack hunter with a constantly rotating squad of Lost under his direct command.  He keeps a few contained within the large metal pack upon his back, some strapped with weaponry and explosives for the rare times he’s in a pinch.  He is heavily armoured and has a wide range of attack with his long sweeping horns.  Not many are willing to fight him. He is rarely taken out of battle for long- no one’s quite sure what he keeps in his medic bag. Personality:  Overbearing, proud, and sadistic.  He is the spoiled pet of a capricious “goddess” who encouraged every depraved impulse from a young age.   For his twisted sense of loyalty to Adelie, he was gifted the title of Warlord, and thus dominion over a massive slice of the Liberated hordes.  Despite his quadrupedal stance and bestial appearance, Gresham is smarter than one would think.  This makes him a dangerous adversary as he can manage his pack with ease.

 OC Question Meme

1.       How easy is it to make them angry? Do they show their anger or hide it? It is difficult to make Gresham legitimately angry.  Disobedience would probably be the best way to anger him, except it grants him the ability to dole out punishment as he deems fit.  If anything, he gets giddy when one would expect him to be angry. If someone manages to piss him off, he would not be able to hide it and that person will have a fight on their hands.

2.       Do they believe in soulmates? The idea of soulmates is a foreign concept to him.  Love does not mean much to him due to his unique upbringing.  Of course, he has seen other Liberated pair off to be mates but the rationalizes it as purely a mutually selfish interaction that has shaky longevity at best (and he goes out of his way to ruin the relationship, if possible.).

3.       Do they have any pet peeves? Laziness, weakness, and sneakiness irritate him.  He picks on the lazy and those he views as weak through forcing them into training and hard labour.  He’ll focus intensely on subordinates that show signs of sneakiness or insubordination.

4.       Do they have a happy place?  Somewhere to go to in their heads when they need to relax? His happy place is his room and the memories of his activities there keep him relaxed and generally happy.  Gresham is also happy when around Adelie.  She showers him with attention and praise which he drinks up.  Gresham is a good boy.  In her soulless pits she calls eyes anyways.

5.       At what stage of their life were they the happiest? Right after he killed his brother in public combat and proved he was the best and strongest out of the two.  His secondary set of horns were torn from his brother’s corpse as trophies.  He could stand somewhat normally at this stage and still could see.  He looked like a normal, but exceptionally large Liberated.

6.       At what stage of their life were they the least happy? Same stage of life as “Glimpse Beyond the Illusion.”  His life is painful- trouble breathing and generally functioning as his body has mostly broken down. He relies on his pack for basic needs like getting dressed and keeping clean.  He is also suffering from the effects of █████ ██████████ which is different from Mortus’s knowledge of ██████████.  Lastly, Adelie takes frequent control of his Liberation to form him to her liking, on top of the changes from █████ ██████████.  Due to both of these, he has been barred from ever receiving a breeding permit.

7.       At a bar/tavern/pub are they more likely to buy someone a drink, or have someone buy them a drink? He would buy someone a drink, but it’s a trap. Don’t ever accept a drink from Gresham.

8.       Have they ever broken any bones?  If yes, how? Oh definitely.  The guy’s a living tank that takes joy in brutalizing beings on foreign planets and has most definitely broken more bones than your average peaceful human.  Due to his medic kit, there isn’t much sign of this on his body.  The most obvious broken bone is his docked tail, taken when he reached adulthood.

9.       Do they have any memories/experiences they’d rather forget? Not really.  Most of the painful memories are washed over by the rewards he has been given as a result of being a twisted ghoul of a being.  There are probably quiet moments where he ponders how his life would have been if he were never taken under Adelie’s wing, but they are shoved back down into the dark abyss he dares not look into.  

10.   What is their favourite memory from their childhood? Earning his first pack of Lost. Little and loyal and they tended to his needs without question.  Free friends, captive to him and too stupid to disobey.  At first, he regarded them as tools and took good care of them. Once he accidentally killed one (maybe not accidentally), it was replaced.  Now they are regarded as intelligent playthings and extensions of himself.

11.   Do they have a “type” they are usually attracted to? No explicit type.  Any form of love that Gresham is capable of experiencing is extremely toxic and sickening.  He is an abject abuser and sadist; he doesn’t understand love.  Gresham is capable of obsession and his main obsession is Adelie.

12.   Do they have any favourite possessions? His survival knife, his jar of Flow, and his pack of Lost.  

13.   Do they have any tattoos? If no, would they ever consider getting one? They are not traditional tattoos, but he has faint stripes down his back.  They are short and function like Rictus’s, just without most of Rictus’s extra abilities.  For instance, Gresham cannot rebuild objects with them.

14.   Do they have any piercings? If no, would they ever consider getting one? The thought hasn’t occurred to him, so no piercings.  He might not get one, but I could see him forcing them on others in uncomfortable places.

15.   What is their dream house like? He would live closer to Adelie with more space to be able to move around comfortably.  A space that’s easy to clean and sort his pack into their own cubbies. A much more robust torture chamber with more tools would also be nice.

16.   What is something about them that people would not expect just by looking at them? He is intelligent.  Gresham is calculated in how he handles his affairs and prepares for most situations ahead of time.  For instance, he’ll set out his Lost to lead his quarry to him-typically in a pretty narrow place to discourage retreat.

17.   How good are they at choosing gifts for others? Don’t ever take a gift from Gresham, it’s a trap.

18.   Do they have a certain skill that they’re particularly proud of? He is insanely gifted with his knife work and butchery.  He is proud that he hasn’t yet broken the “Warlord W.03-c.017 is not entitled to cull stud XXX-XXXX” part of his special permits, despite getting his “playthings” very, very, very close to that point. He is also proud of how easily he can take what he wants.

19.   How would a stranger they just met describe them? Creepy, pushy, off-putting.  They may complain of the smell of his breath and body odour.  

20.   How would a close friend they’ve known for a long time describe them? A sweet, loyal dog.  Trustworthy and cute, in an ugly way. (Adelie)

21.   Do they have any personal insecurities? Being caught in a vulnerable position by someone that can then gossip about it.  There are a few pilots that lack tongues for this reason.  Others (presumably because their mouths were too damned small) are just tortured into silence.

22.   What is their highest physical stat? (strength, stamina, defense, speed, etc.) and their highest non-physical stat? (intelligence, perception, charisma, luck, etc)? Easily strength and intelligence.  Defense and Perception are second highest. Gresham lacks Stamina or Charisma.

23.   How would they react to finding out someone lied to them, even if it was for their own safety/well-being? Gresham wouldn’t like it as it would be a form of insubordination, but insubordination also leads to punishment which is fun for him.  He’d let the person lie, then set a trap to catch them.

24.   Do they prefer cold weather or warm weather? For █████ ██████████ reasons, he isn’t too bothered by temperature extremes.  If given the option, he’d pick colder.

25.   How easy is it for them to say “I love you”? See number 2.  Any proclamation of love isn’t actual love: Gresham doesn’t understand it.  Though, he probably tells his playthings that he loves them.  

26.   How easy is it for them to tell someone about their worries? He would not be close enough to most beings to talk about his worries, but he monologues with the Lost about his thoughts. Much like number 21, those that have caught him in these monologues suffer grave consequences.

27.   Have they ever witnessed someone die? Yes, and he takes a perverse joy in it each time.

28.   Are they ticklish? No.  If he ever was, he got desensitized to it by the Lost climbing him.

29.   How high/low is their pain tolerance? Very high.  Even before he started developing chronic pain from his many augments, he is still a Vactyr in the Titan size-class.  

30.   Is there something they secretly wish they could do, but are too afraid to? Getting closer to Adelie.

31.   Are they a messy eater or a neat eater? Due to his lack of cheeks and stretched snout, he is a very messy eater.  Thankfully, the most common food available to him is the same soylent available to all Liberated.  However, when he has access to problematic meat, he eats like a T-Rex.  Large chunks swallowed whole.

32.   What moment of their life made them feel most unloved? When he’s reminded of his place in the universe.  While he is one of the few top-ranked Liberated, he is below every Hirudian.  Forgetting this disappoints Adelie who forces him back into his place through her ability to utterly control his Liberation.  She is willing to loan that control to other Hirudians, including Hivemind (but never Argiope), much to his great humiliation and shame.

33.   What moment of their made them feel most loved? The time leading up to and after getting his augments.  Yes, he lost his vision at this point, but he had Adelie’s entire attention as he was prepared for and eventually recovered from the surgery.

34.   Which of the senses would they hate to lose the most: vision, hearing, smell, taste, or touch? Gresham already cannot see, and his sense of smell is affected by his helmet.  He relies mostly on hearing and the secondary Flow-sense that is boosted by his augments and █████ ██████████ - he can sense where organic and Other beings are.

35.   Are they good at small talk? No, not really.  He’s a bit too busy to socialize and lacks the ability to fit in with the Liberated Ranks for socialization.  His off-putting personality and sadistic nature also pushed them away, many of the pilots carry some trauma from being targeted by him and thus naturally avoid him.

36.   If they could ask anyone one question and get the absolute truth, who and what would they ask? To some all-knowing being (so maybe Hivemind): “Am I good?”

37.   If they had the chance, would they prefer to travel to the past or to the future? The past.  Killing his brother again sounds fun and potentially going back to just before his augment so he can be close to Adelie again.

38.   Who had the biggest impact in their life, both positive and negative? Elite Adelie, for obvious reasons. But, Mortus comes to a close second in the next chapter of Glimpse.

39.   Would they rather life a life always surrounded by people, or always alone? He requires his Lost to live and takes a perverse joy in ruining other beings’ lives.  So, while he could potentially find happiness in a life of solitude if he ever had a chance at a normal upbringing… he would pick having others around.  

40.   Is there anyone or anything that immediately instills fear in them? He fears a loss of control to a being not worthy of his loyalty.  He is purely loyal to Adelie and enjoys his rule over others.  Gresham is aware of how easily Adelie can abandon him, he has witnessed her throwing away her other experiments for petty reasons.  In some cases, he was how she threw them away.  He eventually develops a skittishness around electricity.

[rosemary-morgan]

Josiah Trelawny x F.Reader: You deserve better - Part 5

(Pictures found on Pinterest)

Good day, dear ones 🌹💗 Here comes the new chapter of “You deserve better” I would like to thank everyone for the feedback and likes. It means a lot to me 🤗💗 

I would like to thank @gangofgunslingers​  at this point! Thank you for helping me and for taking the time to read and edit my text, dear 💗😘

(¯`v´¯)                                                      (¯`v´¯) `*.¸.*´                                                        `*.¸.*´ ¸.•´¸.•*¨) ¸.•*¨) (`’·.¸(`’·.¸  ¸.·’´) ¸.·’´)  (¨*•.¸ (¨*•.¸`•.¸ (¸.•´ (¸.•´ .•´ ¸¸.•¨¯`•               •`¯¨• ¸¸ `•. `•.¸) `•.¸) `*.¸.*´                                                       `*.¸.*´ 

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 /Part 6

You deserve better - Part 5

"Please, forgive me, Josiah." You were so sorry to have hurt him. He was a wonderful man who didn't deserve this. You just had not the courage to tell him the truth. Neither did you have the right to ask him to listen to your words! You once had your opportunity and you didn't take it. This was your punishment now. Josiah looked at you very sadly before he looked down and bit his jaw firmly. He could hardly stand to look at you. The feeling that you would never be his was awful. He felt like an idiot. He was very much in love with you and it would take him a long time before he could get over you. But he had no choice but to forget you. "Josiah, I'm sorry..." "What are you sorry for, Y/N?" Josiah looked at you and this time it was you who lowered eyes to the ground. You couldn't put into words how much you were ashamed of yourself right now. You wanted him as much as he wanted you, but Henry would never let that happen. "Are you sorry you made a fool of me?" Josiah didn't sound angry, and he didn't speak to you in a strict tone. But on the contrary. He was very calm, but you also saw how hurt and disappointed he was with you. "It wasn't like that, Josiah..." You knew that words couldn´t calm this situation. But you wanted him to know that your feelings for him were real and that you hadn't played with him. "Then tell me how it was, Y/N." Josiah swallowed hard and he shook his head as he looked away from you again. Josiah believed you but you seem to be hiding something from him. The way you stood in front of him - distant, nervous, even scared, confirmed the magician that something was wrong. You took a few steps towards him while you played nervously with your fingers. Your eyes searched for his, but Josiah wasn't looking at you which hurts. But you couldn't blame him for that. "I... I'm married, Josiah." Josiah's heart was torn into a thousand pieces. He swallowed firm, hardly believing what he was hearing. You were a married woman?! This time he frowned at you as he shook his head. "You are married?!" With a silent nod, you confirmed it again - yes, you were a married woman. "Oh, good lord. I wish you would have told me this from the beginning, Y/N!" Now it was too late but you would at least try to explain the situation. If Josiah would listen to you. "I know I made a big mistake and I'm so sorry. But Josiah, I don't love this man." But Josiah no longer knew what to believe, and without a word, he continued to listen to you. "He is...” You stopped and you sighed softly “When you met me in Lakay back then, I..." You startled when you suddenly saw your husband standing on the stairs that led from the ballroom up to the first floor. He seemed to be looking for you, at least you thought so. You had completely forgotten the time. But you also didn't expect your husband to be looking for you. He probably wanted to make sure you weren't having fun with any other man while he would drink and smoke with his great friends from New York. Josiah looked at you a little confused since you had stopped talking to him. Following your gaze, he saw the blond man. A sound of a faint sigh escaped from his lips knowing there was nothing he could do against the bout of jealousy he was feeling right now.

Henry hadn't seen you yet and you thanked God for it. But you had to get out of here immediately. "I- I have to go now, Josiah!" You looked at him apologetically as the magician could see the tears in your eyes. He was confused and he gently reached for your wrist when you were about to run away in panic. "Y/N? Wait!" You looked at Josiah in fear because this was the wrong moment. You were so scared that Henry would see you. "Please let me go, Josiah! Henry could see us! Please!" Not wanting you to beg him, Josiah unwillingly let go of your wrist. You hurried away without words and Josiah seemed confused and worried at the same time. My God, there was so much fear in your eyes that Josiah could only guess how your husband was intimidating you. But he sincerely hoped it wasn't so. The attractive magician tried to get a look at you. When he saw you he immediately noticed that something was wrong. Henry didn't seem to have noticed Josiah at all, especially since Josiah was standing outside on the terrace and he was with you in the house. Josiah couldn’t hear what Henry said to you as the music was too loud but by the facial expression, he could tell that your husband was angry about something. Josiah frowned and he couldn't get rid of the feeling that he should keep an eye on you tonight. And you hoped that Henry wouldn´t cause trouble tonight and that Josiah would stay out of your business - if something would happen. But knowing Henry, he would never touch you in public. At least he had never done that before. "You leave me alone like an idiot? My friends are already making fun of me because I have no control over my wife!" You knew that Henry would punish you later for your offense as his grip on your arm tightened. "I´m sorry, Henry! But I just needed some fresh air. It was so sticking in that room!" Henry sighed annoyed, rolling his eyes. "Come on now! Don´t make me angry even more!" Henry dragged you along before you glanced over your shoulder to see if Josiah could see you both. And he could. Of course... he saw you both very well. You could see the shock in his beautiful eyes. What did Josiah think of you now? Was he wondering why you let your husband treat you like this? Or were you just pitiful? You didn't know and you felt ashamed. Maybe you were to blame for this situation yourself. If you hadn't decided to marry Henry two years ago, you wouldn't have to experience all of this. But nobody could anticipate their own fate...

Henry dragged you down the stairs as you tried to free yourself from his rough grip. "Come on, damn it!" When Josiah saw how this man treated you, he growled deeply. Josiah didn't hesitate long and he hurried after you, but you both had already disappeared into the crowd. "Shit..." Why hadn't he reacted earlier? He stroked through his black hair and some of his strands got messed up, but he didn't care at the moment. "Josiah! There you are!" Dutch appeared out of nowhere and Josiah closed his eyes, sighing annoyed. He had no nerve for Dutch's plan at the moment. A plan that was in vain anyway. So far, no gambling had taken place that evening. At least there was no money involved. Josiah had seen simple, meaningless card games. No more. "Josiah, heard anything?" Josiah sighed softly at the question and he shook his head. "No, Dutch. Nothing." "Shit... Hosea was probably right. But we have time. We just need to be patient." "If you say so, Dutch. But I hardly think anything is going on here. The only thing I can do is make myself useful as a pickpocket." Dutch didn’t like the irony in Josiah’s voice, which Josiah immediately noticed. "Excuse me, Dutch!" Josiah walked past him as Dutch frowned with scrutiny at him. "Josiah! You know what to do, so stick to this goddamn plan! Did you understand me?!" Josiah stopped, looking over his shoulder at Dutch, then nodded silently. Dutch couldn't know what is going on with Josiah right now, so Josiah couldn't blame him. Josiah only wished he had met you in other circumstances tonight. But on the other hand, he was glad to finally know the truth about you.

(¸.•´ (¸.•´ .•´(¸.•´ (¸.•´ .•´

It was getting late and Dutch finally had to realize that there was no illegal gambling here. He had found some interesting documents related to Leviticus Cornwall, but this was another story...

Josiah and Arthur stood on a terrace, smoking together. Josiah had told Arthur what had happened. Nobody could understand it better how bad Josiah must felt right now than Arthur. His heart was broken many years ago because the woman he loved had chosen another man. The two men smoked silently side by side. This silence felt good - apart from the music. Arthur slowly blew the smoke out of his lungs, watched it rising into the dark sky. Then he glanced at the magician. Josiah was looking down at the crowd and he felt like shit. He was not allowed to spend time with you and he couldn´t handle that. He was worried about you. You hurt his feelings - but he was still the man who loved you! Josiah was angry at the thought of how badly your husband had treated you.   "Try to forget her."Arthur placed his hand on Josiah's shoulder. "You should keep your hands off her. She already belongs to someone else." Josiah blew out the smoke, slowly shaking his head, looking at Arthur. "Arthur, you don't understand! I saw how rough this asshole treated her!" But Josiah didn't know half of what was happened behind closed doors... "I want to keep an eye on her, but I can´t find her!" Josiah sighed heavily and looked down at the laughing people but he didn't feel any satisfaction this evening. "I can't be angry with her, dear boy. She... she means a lot to me and I don't want to forget her." Arthur could understand Josiah's feelings very well. "What are you going to do?", he asked Josiah, smoking the tobacco then slowly blowing it out of his mouth. "I don't want to lose her, Arthur. He didn't deserve Y/N!" You had literally fled from Josiah when you saw your husband. And Josiah wasn't an idiot! A woman who is mistreated by her husband would flee at some point.  "I can't just forget about our time. She is a wonderful woman, Arthur. She is beautiful, intelligent and sweet as honey. She is a little shy, but I love that about her so much."

Arthur had to chuckle softly when he heard that. Josiah seemed to be very in love with you. "Well then, Josiah!" Arthur threw his cigarette to the ground and crushed it under his foot before looking at the magician. "Find her. You have a chance to do something. Don't miss this chance." Josiah nodded and he hoped that he would have the opportunity to speak to you. And Josiah was very anxious about you. He wanted to be sure that you were well. Together with Arthur, he made his way to the ballroom. The guests danced to a famous classical piece of music and seemed to be enjoying themselves. Josiah looked into the dancing crowd and tried to find you among them. It wasn´t that easy since many people had gathered on the dance floor. As he saw you dancing with Henry, he took a deep breath feeling the jealousy blazed like fire in his chest. Arthur noticed Josiah's staring gaze. The only thing Josiah had to do now was waiting for an opportunity. But Josiah's presence was not long hidden from you. You had been looking for him all the time and now when you saw him your heart was beating like crazy. This man had an incredible impression on you. His gaze made your knees tremble and you felt the desire to lie in his arms and let him kiss you passionately. God, you wanted this man so much. Neither you nor Josiah broke eye contact while you danced with Henry. Josiah's eyes burned with desire - He had never looked at you like this before. Josiah's desire for you grew immeasurably. The longer he saw you in Henry's arms, the more Josiah cursed that bastard. HE should dance with you! Not Henry! One of the waiters offered Josiah a glass of champagne, which he gratefully took and while he drank it in peace, his sea-green eyes rested on you. Oh, you just wanted to run away from Henry! Right in Josiah's arms - in front of everyone present. That was a nice dream and that was the only thing you wanted. You saw that this sight was not pleasant for Josiah and you were sorry that he had to go through this. This dance seemed like an eternity and you hoped that the music would end soon. Henry's closeness was unbearable to you and also the fact that he enjoyed breathing in your fragrance and feeling the soft skin of yours. Suddenly, he leaned forward and when you heard the words he whispered in your ear, your body froze in fear. "I should drag you to a corner and tear your dress off your beautiful body." Henry laughed softly after saying that and then kissed your cheek. Your eyes searched for Josiah and he saw your sad face expression. Josiah crossed his arms and bit his jaw sharply as he watched this scene between you and Henry. He frowned and he was waiting for an opportunity to be alone with you. But as long as your husband was with you, Josiah couldn´t approach you. "You have no idea what I'm going to do with you tonight, dear." "Henry, please..." The way he spoke to you was outrageous as always and you felt humiliated by him. And eventually, Henry knew which power he had on you and that you fear him. He spoke to you as he wanted and he treated you like dirt - And he enjoyed it. Feeling that he had power over you gave him strength. "What's the matter, Y/N? Do I have to be rough again?" That was too much for you and you just wanted to get away from this demon. "I - I'm sorry, Henry." God, how much you hated apologizing to him. You knew that there was no reason, but you just told him what he wanted to hear. Fortunately, the music ended and you immediately think of an excuse to get out of here but Henry had other plans for you. He held your wrist tightly and you looked up at him imploringly "Where do you want to go?" "Please... just five minutes. I need fresh air, Henry. I don't feel well!" Henry looked at you closely, still holding you tightly. It was like he didn't want to believe that you were bad and you were just looking for an excuse to not be with him. But finally, Henry let you go. "Only five minutes, Y/N!" "Yes..." You glanced at Josiah before forcing yourself through the crowd into freedom. Josiah looked after you, waiting a few more minutes before leaving this room too. Josiah kept an eye on Henry and when he saw that he was talking to another man the magician took his chance. He left this place and went out into the garden.

He immediately searched for you. You stood alone in a beautiful pavilion - away from all the noise and music. Josiah sighed softly as he moved towards you, taking another look at his surroundings to make sure he would be undisturbed with you. "Y/N..." Josiah slowly climbed the three steps to the pavilion, walking towards you. He didn't take his green eyes from you. The concerned expression on his face clearly showed that your tears hurt him a lot. How could he still be mad at you? This whole situation seemed to hurt you the most. You looked up at Josiah uncertainly and you asked yourself how angry he had to be with you. But you saw no trace of anger on his face. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have learned the truth this way..." "It's okay", he said in a soft voice as he came closer and you felt the warmth of his body. When Josiah smiled softly, you sobbed, and tears ran down your cheeks. "Hey... it´s okay, my dear." The attractive magician took your hands, led them to his mouth to press gentle kisses on your knuckles while his sea-green eyes looked at you with compassion. "You were afraid to tell me the truth about your husband, weren't you?" You nodded silently and your tears just couldn't be stopped. Josiah took a deep breath, feeling a sharp pain in his soul when he saw you crying. He hadn't seen the full extent of Henry's brutality but what he saw right now was enough. Your tears told their own story. "I was afraid to tell you that I´m already married. I was afraid that you wouldn't want to see me anymore. And when we started to meet, it became even more difficult for me to tell you the truth." Your eyes looked directly into his soul mirrors and Josiah listened to you attentively. "I didn't want to lose what I had been looking for years, Josiah." A good man. A man who would make you laugh, one who would give you a good time. A man, like Josiah who treated you with respect. "Y/N..." Your words made Josiah smile - desperately willing to pull you into his arms and kiss you. But the thought to get you in trouble overcome his desire. He didn´t want you to get in trouble. A soft sigh came from his lips as he breathed in your seductive scent and he had to hold back himself not to touch you in public. God, it was so painful and it wasn't easy for you either. You longed for his tenderness and you dreamed of this moment for so long. In the end, you couldn´t resist him. You stepped closer to him. Your feminine body snuggled into his masculine body, causing Josiah to close his eyes for a moment as a lustful sigh came over his lips - followed by yours while your arms were around his neck. Josiah wrapped his arms around your waist and he buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathed in your sensual fragrance. "Y/N..." As beautiful as this moment was, you had to remind yourself that you weren´t alone and that Henry could catch you at any time. "Josiah, we can´t..." "I know..." Josiah placed his hand on your cheek and he gently stroked your skin with his thumb. Your eyes closed and you leaned into his touch. His touches were so delicious, so smooth. It felt so damn good. No man has ever touched you so tenderly and you are enjoying this moment. Your sensual lips were slightly open and Josiah's eyes were fixed on it. "You are so beautiful, Y/N. So beautiful." He admired the tender skin of your shoulders, your flawless neck. Your seductive neckline that had robbed him of his mind. Josiah swallowed nervously as he looked at you. "I'd love to kiss you, Y/N..." His words made you smile and when you opened your eyes you put your hand on his cheek. "I want it to, Josiah. But..."

You slowly broke the embrace to pull Josiah further into the pavilion, into the darkest corner while your heart was pounding like crazy. Josiah was surprised, but he followed you. And when you disappeared far enough in the shadows you placed your hand on Josiah's neck and pulled him down to you. This pavilion was not illuminated and the only light source was the lights of the house - not enough to illuminate the entire garden. And you used this occasion. "Josiah..." You could hardly see each other - but instead, you could perceive this moment more intensely with your other senses. His breath tickled your lips, as your body pressed desperately against his, causing Josiah to come closer. You were caught between him and the jamb behind you. "Kiss me, darling", you whispered on his mouth and when your tongue glides lightly over his lips, the magician gasped with pleasure. He didn't hesitate to kiss you. God, this was so pleasant and you had been longing for this for so long. His kiss was gentle, slow, yet full of pleasure. His mustache tickled you a little while kissing. His lips were delicious, so soft... God, you felt the heat between your thighs, the seductive wetness that made you moan lustily. And Josiah's right hand rested on your hip, while the other hand was on your cheek as he intensified this kiss. His tongue slid over your full lips and you open your sensual mouth to welcome him. The light taste of champagne and mint was on his tongue. Oh, this combination was marvelous. The thought of how this evening should end made you despair because you knew it wasn´t possible to leave this place with Josiah. And this certainty made you feel terrible. Your place was on Josiah's side. Josiah had no idea how much you wanted him. As your mouth slowly loosened from his, Josiah ran his thumb over your soft lips, knowing that you would soon leave. A low gasp was heard from both of you and a last, tender kiss ended your secret game. "I have to go now, Josiah. Henry will be looking for me soon." A soft sigh came from Josiah's lips. How long would he have to be without you? When would he be able to see you again? It was hard for him to let you go. "My love... please tell me... When will we meet again?" His sea-green eyes looked were full of love for you. "I don't want to go either, Josiah... But I have to." Josiah cupped your cheeks, kissed your forehead to be able to spend a few more moments with you. Your stomach tingled, your legs became so weak. "Y/N, your husband... he treats you badly, doesn't he?" A soft sigh came from your lips when you looked down. Josiah didn't want to hurt you with his words and he knew he had to be careful with what he was going to say. Suddenly he heard your soft sobs. Josiah realized that there were many secrets behind your marriage that you didn't want to reveal. It was hard for him to see you like this, but he respected your decision to remain silent. "I don't want to be with him anymore, Josiah..." Josiah slowly wiped the tears from your cheeks. "Then come with me! Now!" "I need some important things. I have money. It's hard-earned money, Josiah and I don't want to give it to him." You worked for a tailor once and you keep this money hidden from Henry. Otherwise, he would have used this for gambling. But Josiah didn't think it was a good idea to let you go back to Henry. "My dear, please! It would be better if you come with me. We'll get your things together. I don't want you to go back to him!" You could see the worry on his face. With a soft smile, you leaned forward and you kissed his cheek. "I'll be with you tomorrow, Josiah. Don't worry. I'll be fine. I promise." Josiah gasped nervously as he looked at you worried. This was a bad idea. "Okay..." "I have to go now." You walked past him in slow steps and you let your hand slide slowly out of his while you gave him an intense look until you turned around, leaving him for Henry. Josiah looked after you and he hoped to see you as soon as possible. "I love you...", Josiah whispered. But you hadn't heard his words. You had already gone back to the mayor's estate. "I love you so much, Y/N."

[lynelovespopculture]

The Wedding Night-Sequel to the Wedding I worked like a dog to get this up before Part 3.

The Wedding Night

 Holding hands, the lovers laughed as they ran across the lawn and up the stairs. They kissed passionately by the door.

“I can’t believe we finally did it! Did we just get married?” Diana asked with a golden smile.

Edward laughed. “Oh, believe it, Mrs. Spellman. You’re stuck with me now. Let’s see, I believe the mortal tradition goes like this-“

Diana laughed deeply as Edward scooped her up in his arms and crossed the threshold after he magically opened the door. It wasn’t until they were inside and he put Diana down that Edward noticed that there was a fire in the front sitting room.

“Hilda? Zelda? ”

But it wasn’t either of his sisters. Edward moved more into the room. Edward would know those nails and that hare topped walking stick anywhere.

“I know that man” Diana whispered to her husband. “He was at the wedding. When he wasn’t glaring at us, he was staring at Zelda. Do you know him?”

“Only half of my life,” Edward mumbled. “Go upstairs, Diana. I’ll be up soon.” Edward kissed his wife’s cheek to reassure her.

Diana left and Edward went to greet his guest. “Hello, Faustus.  I was happy to see you at my wedding. I wasn’t sure you be able to make it.” Edward poured 2 brandys and handed Faustus a glass.

“I had to come,” Faustus replied. “I had to see for myself if you had the sheer nerve to betray your own people.”

Edward sat down, threw his head back and sighed. So much for the polite and friendly approach. “I didn’t betray anyone. I just got married.”

“To a moral!” The other man leaned forward heavily on his cane. “Just because you’re high priest doesn’t mean you cannot do whatever you want. There are rules!”

 “And I have followed the rules! Diana and I pushed back our wedding a year before  Enoch gave permission.”

“Enoch is one of your biggest fans. Of course, he gave you permission. The man is also an idiot.”

“You dare call the anti-pope an idiot?”  Demanded Edward.

Faustus considered this. “When it comes to you? Yes. What will you ask for next? The world?”

“Enough!” Edward got up and downed his drink in 1 shot. “What do you have against mortals anyway? What did they ever do to you?”

Faustus chuckled. “I know I haven’t been your teacher in a very long time but here’s a quick history lesson. When witches are exposed to mortals, witches die. Think about Salem or even the 13.”

“I can’t have this fight with you again!” Edward threw up his hands. “Besides, this is not the time for anger.  You see, I heard about Constance’s miscarriage-“

“No!” Faustus jumped up. “You don’t get to pretend to care about anyone’s happiness but your own. Not with me. We know that miscarriages occur when marriages displease the dark lord. How can  my marriage please the dark lord when it doesn’t  even please me?”

Edward rolled his eyes. “Oh, sweet hell, not again.”

“You marry a mortal and almost no one bats an eye, yet you forced me to marry Constance.”

“I did not.” Edward objected. “I   gave you a choice.”

“Some choice! “Faustus spat. “You knew I worked on my thesis for decades, but you suddenly decided not to publish it until I married Constance, who just moved to Greendale, within a  month! As you may recall, I almost stormed out of your office, refusing to whore myself for my work. Before I could reach the door, you told me of Zelda’s recent elopement with an English warlock and you even showed me a framed picture of the happy couple. You knew I would’ve married any witch you put in front of me after that and you could understand my shock when after my honeymoon, I walked into the school only to come face to face with Zelda’s new husband,  mopping the floor! I asked around and I came to decide that either Zelda had married the academy’s new janitor, or you lied to me. It was confirmed  when I sneaked into your office, found the exact picture you showed me, but it was only Zelda and Hilda, who  both came home about 2 weeks later.”

“That’s all  history now.” Edward dismissed. “What’s your point?”

“You’re married to the mortal you’re smitten with. I can barely stand being in the same room as my wife and both your sisters are unmarried and wasting their lives delivering other people’s children when they should be having babies of their own.”

“Hey, my sisters are allowed to marry whoever and whenever they want.”

“Anyone but me that is. Why Edward, why?”

“You really want to know? I’ll tell you. It’s because  I don’t trust you, Faustus. I can’t really put my finger on as to why,  but there’s something dark and dangerous inside you. Plus, I still remember when I was still a student and you took home and I will never forget how your father treated, what was it? Your 7th stepmother.”

“I am nothing like my father!” Faustus objected violently. “I never met a man I hated more until I met you!”

Edward shook his head. “You didn’t always hate me. We used to be friends.”

“True.” Faustus agreed. “I thought we were friends the first time I asked for Zelda’s hand in marriage and you rebuked me. I only slightly disliked when you were first made high priest and I begged you to marry Zelda and again you refused me. I  only really started to hate you when you married me off and then you started to play matchmaker between Zelda and every single warlock in the coven.”

Edward advanced.  “Well, hate this. I don’t think Zelda will be single for much longer. You see, my sister has been away from the house more and more lately. I think she’s finally found the man for her.” Faustus laughed. “What’s so funny?” Edward demanded.

“I’m that man,” Faustus informed him.

“You and Zelda are having an  affair?”

“Only in my dreams. But we have been talking more. Unlike the rest of you Spellmans, Zelda actually respects witch law and is having trouble accepting your marriage and didn’t want to trouble her darling brother.”

“You’re lying. I know my sister; she would have gone to Hilda.”

“Wrong. Hilda is getting so chummy with your moral that poor Zelda feels that she’s losing her sister.”

“So, she turned to you?” Edward shook his head, walked out of the room and started up the stairs.

Faustus followed. “What are you going to do? Yell at Zelda for speaking to an old friend?”

“No. I’m going up to my wife. I suggest you go home to yours and accept that you will never have my sister.”

Faustus’s hand tightened around his cane. “Go to heaven, Edward! After this marriage, where else would you go?” Faustus turned and left.

“Faustus! Faustus!”

Faustus Blackwood opened his eyes as he felt someone shaking his knee. His neck felt a little sore as he lifted his  head up from the soft leather of the limo’s backseat.

“What is it, Peter?” He asked of the monk who woke him.

“Sorry to wake you, but we can’t decide what to do.” Peter explained.   “You see, the road has been washed out by the storm.”

“Storm?” Faustus looked out the window and sure enough, he saw big,  fat drops of rain coming down so hard that Faustus couldn’t even see the road. “How long have I  been asleep?”

“About 2 hours, Brother Faustus, and it’s been raining for 1. It’s been getting worse ever since.”

“We’ve been thinking about turning around and stopping at a hotel in the town we just passed.”

“We can’t!” Faustus objected. “We’ll miss our plane to Rome.”

“The driver is on the phone to the airport right now and if the plane is grounded, we may have no choice.” Said another monk.

Then there It was a strange noise.

“I’m sorry.” Peter said while rubbing his stomach. “I didn’t eat dinner.”

“Most of us didn’t. I’m hungry too.” Faustus confessed.

They were interrupted by the driver, who informed them that indeed that the flight to Rome would be grounded until the storm passed.

“Cheer up.” Peter said when he looked at Faustus’s face. “Did you really want to spend your wedding night on an airplane?”

“Good point.” Faustus smiled as he sat and looked at his new bride.  Zelda was asleep, resting her head against her window. Faustus couldn’t help but let his eyes roamed all over her. Her perfect legs were crossed. She was still snuggled up in 1 of  Judas’s baby blanket that Faustus tucked her in himself.

Satan, she’s beautiful,  Faustus thought. And she’s finally mine, truly mine. My Zelda,  my wife. At long last!

The limo took a sharp turn and a sleeping Zelda landed with her head on her husband’s shoulder. He put an arm around her and played with her hair.

 “Damn it!”  Roy, the night manager of the Dreamland Hotel slammed down the phone and looked up to see most of his teenage staff putting on their jackets. “Where  do y’all think you’re going?”

“Home,  boss.” Said a boy whose name escaped Roy. “Shift’s over.”

Roy shook his head. “I don’t think so. That call was about a party of 16. They’ll be here in about 20 minutes.  They want dinner and rooms for the night.��

“Dinner?!” The boy objected “It’s almost midnight!”

“Relax. There 24-hour take-out place around the corner. We’ll just put the noodles on plates.”

“Why should we stay?” asked a girl.

“Because they’re willing to pay 3 times the normal amount for any inconvenience.”

 The teens cheered while Roy smiled. He never said he would be sharing the money, dumb kids.

When the hotel’s lighted sign came into view, Faustus decided to wake up his wife. “Zelda? Sweetheart?” He gently shook her and then he placed a kiss on her lips, only then did Zelda awake.

She was groggy. “Are we already at the airport?”

Faustus smiled. “No, dearest. A storm came and had to change to our plans since no one has a  weather spell on them.”

“We’re here.” Announced Peter,  who got out of the car.

Zelda leaned forward to look out the limo’s window. “And where is here?”

“Just a hotel, dearest. A place for food, sleep and” Faustus whispered in her ear. “Other wedding night type things.”

“Splendid.” Zelda reached for her purse.

Faustus smiled. “Which? The food, sleep, or sex?”

“All” Zelda smiled.

 Roy was at the front desk when the limo pulled up. The party of  16 ranged from some very old men, adults, some teens, and even an infant. Roy noticed that they were all dressed in black, even the baby! Like a cult! 16 freaks.

 Correction, Roy thought as soon as he saw her, 15 freaks and 1 smoking hot redhead!

Some of them were going into the rec hall for their requested meal  but most were heading to the restrooms. Roy snapped his fingers and placed a bellhop at the desk. He tried to cut off the redhead before she went to the restroom. He was too late, so he waited outside the bathroom for the redhead to come out. Finally, after what seemed like a million flushes and like 8 people coming out, some gave him weird looks, he saw the redhead. She had taken off her cloak, hat, and gloves and carried it all in her arms. Roy quickly looked down at her hand, no ring,  good.

“Hey there!”

The redhead barely looked at him. “Hello.”

She turned away but Roy fell in step beside her. “You know, if I could rearrange the alphabet, I put you and me together.”

“I think you mean you and I. Me is a word, not a letter.”

The redhead was walking a bit faster, but Roy got in front of the woman, his hand on the wall, blocking her way.  “What are you? A teacher or something?”.

“Yes.” She said simply and then ducked under his arm.

Roy didn’t or wouldn’t take the hint and was beside her again.

“So, what’s your name, pretty lady?”

However, pretty lady was more   interested in the the woman coming toward them and stopped her.  “Louise, do you know if we smoke on this floor?”

“I don’t think so, Sister Zelda.”

“Great.” She muttered.

“Zelda, huh? Well, you can call me Link baby, you can be my princess anytime.”  He caught her hand and bought it up to his lips.

“You’re still here?” It was Zelda’s only comment.

“Why are you so rude?” Roy advanced and Zelda’s back was against the wall.

“I’m not rude.” Zelda was as calm as ever. “I’m tired, and even more than that, I’m hungry. I only had an apple to eat today.”

“Why didn’t you say so, beautiful? You see, I’m the manager here and I can open the kitchen just for you and you can pick anything you want from the menu and we’ll have a nice, quiet meal in my office. It’s a much better offer than the cold noodles I’m feeding the freaks.”

Zelda stared at him. “Freaks? You dare call my people  freaks?” She shoved him away, harder than Roy thought possible.

“Hey!” Roy caught her arm as Zelda walked away or tried to.

“Excuse me.” Came a new, male voice. “Is there a problem here?”

Roy looked up to see a tall man, in a  suit. To Roy, he looked like a vampire. “What’s wrong, Count Dracula, out of hair gel? You need to  mind your own business!”

The man took a  step forward. “My wife is my business!”

“She’s not married, dude! I checked her hand!”

Zelda chuckled, shook herself free and shuffled her things to her other hand to hold up the hand with a  wedding ring on it. “Wrong hand, idiot.”

“Step away from my wife, mortal.”

“Mortal?  Who talks like that? Who are you, guys?”

Zelda rolled her eyes. “Faustus, my dear, you need to learn how to act with the outside world. I’m a little groggy to use magic right now but now I have no choice.”

Roy looked from one to the other. “Mortal? Magic? What the hell-“

“Never mind!” Zelda held a palm and Roy was in a trace. “Now, Link was it? You already behave like a child so why not play like a child? Go outside and play in the puddles.” Zelda ordered.

Faustus smiled. “You know it might rain all night?”

“All the better” His wife took his arm. “More puddles for him to find.”

 By the time, Zelda sat down to supper  in the rec hall, some of the party  had already finished and left. Cold Chinese was hardly a favorite, but she truly was starving so she ate everything on her plate. As she nursed her wine, Zelda watched   more and more people leave and Zelda longed to withdraw herself but knew as Lady Blackwood, she had to play hostess to the monks who barely spoke a word to her.

After a respectable hour, Zelda rose. “Gentlemen, by  your kind permission, I wish to withdraw.”

Zelda got the permission when the men rose and bowed to her.

“I’ll be up  as soon as I can,” Faustus whispered before he kissed her, and she nodded.

They rented out a whole floor and as the honeymoon suite was already taken so Faustus and Zelda was placed in another suite at the end of the hall. Zelda opened the door and heard Louise, a teacher at the academy scolding some schoolgirls.

“You three were brought along  to attend to Lady Blackwood, not to play with some mortal   boy’s minds.”

“What’s going on here?” Demanded  Zelda, her hand on her hip.

The girls leaped up. “Lady Blackwood.”

“These girls were found playing with some mortal  boys from the hotel staff  when they were supposed to be preparing your room,” Louise told her.

“I’d my fill of mortals for 1 night. It has been a very long day for all of us. Why don’t you girls go to find your rooms and go to bed? The girls fled.

“You’ll just let those girls off the hook.” Louise frowned.

“The room seems fine and I don’t feel like being a teacher right now.” Zelda took off her jewelry. “All I want is a warm bath before Faustus comes up.”

“Should I run it for you?”

“What for?” Zelda smiled as both witches heard the water running.

“Showoff! I’ll just find your nightgown and leave it on the bed.

“Thank you.” Zelda grabbed a cigarette from her purse and the ashtray and headed into the bathroom. She turned off the tap and stripped. It felt so good to lower her body into the water and took a puff. 20 minutes later, Zelda toweled off and was putting on her nightgown when she heard a  baby cry. She went into the next room to find another schoolgirl having trouble calming Judas. Zelda settled the girl and then took both bassinette and baby back to her own room. She changed him fed him and rock him to sleep while she sat by the fire.

“There, my little one, all you wanted was food and sleep. Just like the rest of  us.”

 2 hours! It took 2 hours for Faustus to escape that damn rec hall! It’s amazing how a little free-flowing wine could turn silent monks into huge asses! They could do whatever they wanted but he had a bride and a baby waiting for him.   Faustus doubled checked that everyone was where they should be before he dismissed the boys. He walked into his room and stopped at the breathtaking scene. His baby boy, asleep and happy and in the arms of the woman who should have borne him, the only woman Faustus Blackwood had ever and would ever love. The light of the fire bounced off Zelda’s wedding ring.

Are you seeing this, Edward? Faustus wondered to himself. He had seen and heard a lot of Edward Spellman’s ghost lately. Even today, at the wedding, he knew it was Sabrina,  because her father was already there, off to the side, glaring at even him before Zelda came down the aisle.  It was just too ironic that it was the same glare that Faustus had used when Edward had married him to Constance. What he never told Edward, what Faustus never told anyone that he had only been able to complete that farce wedding to Constance by mentally transforming the bride’s ebony skin to ivory and her black hair to red. Faustus had said his marriage vows to Zelda that day, not Constance. The fantasy was over, however, as soon as Zelda opened her mouth and spoke with Constance’s voice. That day, Faustus lost something truly precious. He tried to get it back by sleeping with half the coven, but he only ever came close when he saw Zelda, be it at mass or around Greendale. He never felt whole again until that night he kissed Zelda by the fire. He was reborn at that moment. After making love, he vowed never to lose Zelda again. It was right after that night that Edward started to pop up everywhere.  Faustus didn’t understand why until after Constance died that it became clear; not even Edward Spellman, hell’s own golden boy, the man who had broken all the rules and gotten away with it, could cheat  Faustus of his fate and that fate was Zelda. True, this wedding day had not gone according to plan, but he couldn’t blame Edward for it. No, that blame went to Edward’s blond brat. It that girl had, for once,  minded her own business and not gave Enoch Edward’s manifesto which had appeared out of nowhere after 16 years, Faustus wouldn’t have had to kill that Edward fanatic and could have actually enjoyed his wedding day instead of dodging Spellmans left and right and wedding the love of his life in the everyday setting of his office but none of that mattered now. The only Spellman who truly mattered was now a Blackwood and was asleep in the chair before him. Faustus knelt before them, trying to commit this perfect memory of his sleeping wife and son to his mind forever. When Judas began to fuss, Faustus stood and tried to ease him from Zelda’s lap without waking her. He was unsuccessful.

“Oh!” Zelda woke with a start.

“Hi. It’s okay, I got him.” He smiled and kissed her.

“Okay.” She kissed him back.

He put his already back to sleep son in his bassinet and carried it over to the bed. “Dearest, why didn’t you relax in bed? You would have been  more comfortable.”

Zelda got up and followed him. “Faustus, I realized that nothing about our wedding day was traditional, but I’ll be damned if I went to bed alone on my wedding night.”

He went to her. “In that case, Lady Blackwood, you’re overdressed.” He pushed back her robe and kissed her neck as the robe fell the floor. He did love her neck. Zelda teased him more than once about being a vampire because he was always kissing or sucking on her neck. So much so that if he spotted Zelda wearing a heavy necklace or a high collar, he knew she was hiding a hickey. They undressed each other and made love as passionately as they were still having a secret affair. Faustus didn’t remember falling asleep, but the baby’s cries woke him. He got up, settled the infant and then turned and stared at  Zelda, naked in bed, her red hair fanned out on her pillow and best of all, his ring on her finger. Why is the love of my life Edward’s sister? Faustus wondered for the millionth time. Why must she be a Spellman? Faustus wasn’t a fool. To destroy Edward’s family, once he returned to Greendale, Faustus knew that he had to remove Zelda, the true Zelda, from the situation, at least for a little while and that was a huge risk and his greatest fear. He pushed the thought away and as he got back in bed, Faustus noticed his wedding ring and smiled. He had convinced Constance that he just wasn’t a ring person, but the truth was that his 1st marriage was no true union. Now, he would proudly wear Zelda’s ring for the rest of his life. It was only now, this moment in time, in a dark hotel room, with rain falling on the roof, with his son 3 feet away and his wife in his arms, that Faustus Blackwood was truly happy.

[foreverwayward]

“Lost in You” Part 3

Jensen Ackles x Reader

Word Count: 2538

Warnings: none? Possible fluff. Language.

SideBar: A/U where Jensen is single.

Summary: You and your best friend (Y/BF/N) go to a Supernatural convention. It was supposed to just be a fun day; nothing too crazy. That is…until he saw you.

Part 1   Part 2

Back in your room, you and Y/BF/N packed your luggage and got ready to go. Your head was still swimming out of control over the whirlwind that had been your last twenty-four hours. The high you were still riding had you feeling more alive than you had in a long time. The two of you were practically giddy with excitement that you were going to the “Supernatural” set and that you and Jensen clearly had something between you.

You pulled out your phone as you sat on the edge of your bed and smiled as you texted Jensen. “Well, looks like we’re ready to go. What’s the plan?”

It didn’t take more than a minute for him to text back, his eagerness making you even more excited. “Lemme make a quick call :)”

While you were fixing your hair, your phone chimed with Jensen’s next text. “Alright! It’s all set. Head on down to the lobby and call me.”

“Okay,” you messaged back, unsure of what was to come. Turning to Y/BF/N you popped up the handle on your luggage, ready to roll it out. “He said to go to the lobby and call him when we’re down there.”

Your friend shrugged. “He’s the boss.”

------

The cool air from the lobby A/C helped your anxious growing nerves; though your fidgeting hands didn’t help you hide it. Even after spending time with Jensen, calling him was still beyond terrifying. So, with a deep breath, you dialed his number and closed your eyes tightly as you felt on the verge of vomiting.

“Hey!” that familiar gruff voice answered. “You guys ready?”

Trying to sound as cool and collected as your shaking voice would let you, you told him, “yep! We’re down in the lobby by the front door.”

“Perfect. I want you to go out the front to the car loop. Let me know when you’re there.”

“Okay,” you answered with a nervous chuckle as you nodded toward your friend to head out. Once you stepped outside, the two of you stood waiting for your next instruction. “Alright, we’re here.”

“Okay, do you see a black SUV out there?” As you scanned the area, you listened to Jensen go on. “There’ll be a driver waiting for you.”

Turning to the right, you saw the car and the gentleman waving you in his direction. “I see him.”

“Alright.” You couldn’t see the smile that was growing on Jensen’s face as he talked you through the plan. “Stay on the phone with me until you get settled in.”

“Will do.”

Walking up to the car, the driver stood by the passenger door and opened it. “Y/N?”

“Uh--that’s me.”

“I’m Frank. Mr. Ackles has instructed me to take you to the airport. Are you ready to go?”

You and Y/BF/N tried not to squeal with excitement and you nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Frank is fine.” The driver offered a hand to take your luggage and you both obliged as you got into the back.

The black car smelled of new leather and had soft rock music playing. All of the windows were heavily tinted and gentle, cool air flowed around you. Once you were settled in, you held the phone to your ear once more. “Okay, we’re in.”

“Awesome,” Jensen said with obvious enthusiasm. “So, Frank’s gonna take care of you guys. His job is to make sure you get here and everything has been handled. Don’t worry about a thing.”

Unsure of how the day was going to go, you chuckled nervously. “Uh--okay. You know you didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”

“Who said it was any trouble?” His tone reminded you of the one he used when he would get that pleased smirk on his face. “I told you...I got it.”

“Alright. Well, I guess that means I’ll be seeing you soon.”

Jensen sighed through a sweet laugh. “Can’t wait.”

------

“Aren’t we supposed to go check in?” Y/BF/N asked leaning in toward Frank as he drove through the back of the airport.

Very nonchalantly, Frank pulled onto the tarmac of the opposite side of the airport. “Everything’s been taken care of.”

“Where are we going?” she whispered to you.

All you could do was shrug. “He didn’t tell me anything.”

The car stopped and Frank got out before heading to your side. He opened your door and as you stepped out, you gasped. Once Y/BF/N followed quickly behind, she too shared the same shocked sound.

“Oh...my...god.” There was a private plane only fifty or so feet away; the stairs down and ready to board. “This is for us?”

“Yup.” Frank went to the trunk and grabbed your bags before heading for the plane. “This way, ladies.”

Your friend took your hand and you both walked together with giant grins on your face. The whole experience was more than you could have possibly dreamed. It was far from the coach seat on a commercial flight that you had expected.

Inside, five comfortable chairs and a sofa sat in the heart of the plane. It too smelled of leather and what you could have sworn it smelled like to be rich. It was stylish and modern with a black and white motif.

“Look at this!” Y/BF/N exclaimed excitedly as she picked up a pillow. “We’re on a plane that has fucking decorative pillows.” She squeezed it to her chest and hummed. “Oh, it’s soft.”

You found your seat and with a heavy, content sigh, you collapsed into it. “I can’t believe he did all of this.”

“Yeah! For you! You sure you didn’t sleep with him?” she teased.

Picking up one of the pillows yourself, you chucked it in her direction with a giggle. “Shut up.”

Your phone alerted you and you took it out of your pocket. Of course, it was a text from your newest favorite person. “Frank said you guys made it there okay. Do you have everything you need?”

“Jensen, this is crazy. You didn’t have to do all of this.”

“I know. I wanted to. :) Have a safe flight!”

“We will. And, Jensen...thank you for everything.”

“Just get here. That’s all the thanks I need. xoxo”

Did he just “kiss-hug” you? Your head was spinning with such grand gestures and all Jensen had done for you. But that “xoxo” made your entire day.

Frank went to the back of the aircraft and made himself comfortable as he made a few phone calls before take off.

As you tucked your cellphone back into your pocket, the flight attendant came out in a skirt, heels, and silk blouse. She was beautiful; far too beautiful to be a flight attendant. “Welcome aboard. We’ll be making a straight, nonstop flight to Vancouver, Canada. We will be in the air for approximately five hours, so please don’t hesitate to let us know if you need anything at all.” The attendant grabbed two small menus and handed them to you and Y/BF/N.

Glancing over it, you saw a list of delicious-sounding cocktails and top-shelf booze. You and your friend shared a look of excitement as the captain walked onboard.

“Welcome, aboard. Shall we get you two to Vancouver?”

------

The flight felt like it drug on forever, but only because of your excitement to see Jensen again. You and Y/BF/N had the time of your lives on that plane right though. The two of you shared drinks, delicious appetizers and watched movies while talking nonstop about the thrill of everything happening. It was like a fantasy.

It was late into the night when you landed and you eagerly looked out the windows just excited to be there.

The door opened and the stairs lowered before you and your friend headed out. You were laughing and having more fun than either of you imagined, and the trip had only started.

Ahead of you, was Frank, with yet another large tinted vehicle. Your luggage was already loaded and ready to go as he opened the doors for you both. “Welcome to Vancouver.”

Still buzzing, you and Y/BF/N crawled into the car. Grinning like her face would get stuck that way, she turned to you. “This is insanity, Y/N.”

“I know!”

And then your phone chimed again. Quickly, you unlocked it and saw Jensen’s newest text. “Welcome to Canada :)”

“Thanks! Jensen, this whole trip has been crazy. I can’t believe you did all of this.”

“I can’t believe you don’t think you’re worth every bit of it.”

Your heart stopped then and there; you were sure of it. Nothing you could say would be the appropriate response and your fingers danced over the screen trying to figure out what to say. But he beat you to it and another text came through.

“See you in an hour. :)”

“Seatbelts, ladies,” Frank told you over his shoulder from the driver’s seat as he started up the large SUV.

------

An hour that felt like an eternity; that’s the only way to explain that car drive. You were practically having to keep yourself from jumping up and down with nerves and your best friend took your hand.

“You’re freaking out now, aren’t you?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed, only to see Frank look at you through the rearview mirror before you hushed yourself. “Of course, I’m freaking out. Is this just too fucking crazy? Should I not have done this?”

She grabbed your face and forced you to look at her. “As your best friend, I have to tell you to snap the hell out of it. This is the coolest thing that has ever happened to either of us and I demand that you let yourself enjoy every second.”

Your breathing slowed as she held you in place. “Okay. Okay. I can do this.”

“Fuck yeah, you can.”

It was only shortly after that you pulled in front of a beautiful building. Even in the dark, it was well lit and the exterior alone showed you the place was clearly beyond your lifetime budget.

Again, the doors began to open and you turned to get out. Only this time, your stomach jumped as you saw Jensen standing there holding the door for you with a massive grin.

“Hey, beautiful.”

“Hey,” you replied with a nervous smile. 

With you both out of the car, Jensen closed the door behind you and he turned to Frank. “Hey, man. Thanks for handling everything today.”

“Not a problem, Jensen.” And with that, Frank went to grab your things and bring them inside.

And that was when he finally had a moment to look into your eyes again. Jensen pushed back that strand of hair from your face that he began to know and love all too well. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

He pulled you in for a hug and you wrapped your arms around him. You could have sworn that the man smelled better every single time you saw him. Closing your eyes, and feeling the warmth from his solid chest, you soaked him in. Jensen was your newest drug of choice; one you had no intention of finding sobriety from.

When he pulled away, he smiled before hugging Y/BF/N. “Thank you so much for making the trip with Y/N.”

She looked up at him and beamed. “What can I say?” she shrugged and feigned a dramatic sigh. “The things I do for my best friend.” Jensen chuckled and Y/BF/N and resituated the purse on her shoulder. “But seriously, thank you for everything. This whole trip has been incredible.”

“Well, it’s only getting started.” Jensen spun around to you and licked his bottom lip flirtatiously. “Come on, lemme show you around.” Taking your hand in yours, he began to lead you on.

You gulped hard at the feel of his large but soft grip and your eyes met Y/BF/N’s. “Oh, my god,” she mouthed as you all headed up toward the main entrance.

Once you had gone up the steps, Jensen led you both through the lobby and directly to the elevator. He put a key into the system before pushing the button. With Frank in tow with the luggage, you all went up to the nineteenth floor. The elevator doors opened and your jaw nearly dropped when you saw it led you right into a beautiful condo.

With Jensen still holding your hand, he led you all inside. “What do you think?”

“What do I think?” you chuckled through a scoff in awe. “Jensen, this is amazing.”

“I’m so glad you like it. I thought you two would like your own space while you’re here.” He dropped the key into your hand and smiled. “And Frank is gonna be around to help you with whatever you need while you’re here.” As Y/BF/N went inside like a kid in a candy store, Jensen held you back. His voice was low and he took both of your hands in his. “I can’t tell you how happy I am that you came.”

“Me too.” Lost in his green eyes that you’ve fallen so hard for, you sighed feeling complete now that you were with him again.

Jensen tilted down and put his forehead to yours. “You’ve had a long day. Get some rest. We start shooting super early but feel free to head over whenever you want. I hate that I got to see you so little tonight, but we can make up for it tomorrow.”

“Promise?” you asked sweetly.

He hummed softly and chuckled deep in his chest. “You better believe it.” Once again, he kissed your head and waved to Y/BF/N. “Have a good night!”

“Oh,” Y/BF/N said with enthusiasm. “We will.”

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

You felt a mild sadness come over you as your hands slipped apart while he walked away. “Tomorrow.”

Jensen got into the elevator with Frank and looked back at you once more with a flirty wink before the doors closed and he disappeared.

Once he was gone, you and Y/BF/N waited a moment before squealing like excited teenage girls and hugged each other while jumping up and down.

“I’m so lucky that my best friend’s so damn hot!” your friend yelled out playfully.

You looked around and saw the large double doors off to the side and gave her a sly smirk before darting off in their direction. “First one in gets to pick their bed!”

“You cheat!” The two of you laughed as you disappeared into your beautiful room.

You and Y/BF/N had been on one hell of a ride in less than two days, and you were nowhere near ready to let it end. But as fun as it all was, all that mattered to you was that you would soon be with Jensen again. You would have been happy with a room at the Hyatt or whatever, just as long as it meant time with him. That’s all the trip truly was for you; a chance to be with the man of your dreams.

------

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[mnemememory]

sweet little lamb

(part 1)

beauty in the beast au; where jester is a teapot, caleb is a candelabra, and yasha is an evil demon (except she's really not)

.

Beau exists in a perpetual state of making bad decisions. 

At least, according to her mother. Beau’s gotten good at tuning out the rants about coming home late, coming home drunk, coming home with hickeys on her neck or not bothering to even come home at all. Beau spends most of her nights crashing on couches with people she hadn’t known before that evening. The village of Kamordah is small, but the city located just an hour out certainly isn’t. Every time Beau leaves behind the stink of a thousand people, she feels a little less herself.

Still. She hadn’t actually expected them to kick her out.

“Hey,” she yells, banging on the door. The locked door. They even moved the spare key out from under the doormat. “I’m back! Let me in!”

Nothing.

Beau scowls and kicks at the doorframe one more time, before turning and stuffing her hands into her pockets. She looks around at the street. Thankfully, it’s still early enough that no one was out and about to witness her inglorious disownment. Apparent disownment. If they want to get rid of Beau, they’re going to have to look her in the eyes and say it. If anything, she wants to be able to punch someone before the village police are called.

The neighbourhood is already fairly used to bursts of random shouting coming from wherever Beau turns out to be, so no one rushes out to demand Why are you awake at this ungodly hour of the morning? The answer is, obviously, Beau is drunk off her ass and wanted a nice place to sleep tonight. It is her birthday, after all.

Well. It had been her birthday, right up until midnight last night. She is officially eighteen years and one day old. Hurray.

Beau can just imagine what her mother would say now: “I can’t believe you’ve managed to survive this long.” Even in Beau’s imagination, she’s dressed immaculately, holding tight to her little brother’s hand. “Given how often you’ve tried to drink yourself – and us – into an early grave.”

Beau doesn’t drink that much. Her mother tends to overexaggerate for comedic effect, especially when the neighbours were involved. Beau can’t count how many times she’s hidden at the top of the staircase as her mother entertained guests, listening to the horrible things they said about each other. Your daughter certainly is a handful, was often the topic of conversation. I heard she –

It was different, every time, but the tone never changed. Beau always thought it funny how different they sounded when they thought no one was listening.

“I can’t believe this,” she says, kicking at the sidewalk and stubbing her toe. She spits out a few curses that her mother would have killed her for had she uttered them around her baby brother, and then collapses onto the hard ground. She spreads her limbs out like a starfish. Beau is just intoxicated enough to know that this is a bad idea but not particularly care. If someone runs me over with a cart, she thinks, then at least my death will be as messy and inconvenient as possible.

She wonders what her parents would tell her little brother. Maybe he’d wake up early, like he always seemed to do. Maybe they wouldn’t catch him fast enough to stop him from looking at her mangled corpse. People died all the time in villages like hers, where hygiene came in the form of bi-weekly bathes and soap strong enough to give sensitive skin chemical burns, but her little brother hadn’t really been in the forefront of all that.

Beau stares up at the stars. She counts the specks of light until she loses track, until the sunlight starts to bleach the sky pale. It’s cloudless and beautiful. The weather is perfect. Of course it is.

(It had been raining yesterday. Beau can already feel the water pooling in-between the cobblestone cracks, soaking into her jacket and chilling her to the bone.

Of course the weather was perfect for her little brother’s birthday, but not for hers. Of course).

“You’re looking rather down, young lady,” someone says.

Beau opens her eyes. There is a man standing above her, silhouetted by the rising sun. He’s a drow, his long tattered black cloak pulled loosely around a set of grey leather armour. There’s a blue cloth wrapped around the lower half of his face, obscuring everything but his eyes. Yellow eyes.

Very slowly, Beau sits up. There’s still no one around, which is odd but not unusual. It’s the day after a festival, after all. People were probably still nursing off their hangovers in the comfortable cool darkness of their own homes.

“What do you want?” she says, reaching up to press a hand to her forehead. Gah. That was such a bad idea. Now the world is spinning. As much fun as it would be to get robbed just outside her parents house, she doesn’t exactly feel like mugging some poor random to get back whatever shreds of her dignity remained.

The man seems to smile down at her. It’s a little hard to tell, with the only reference she has being the slight upward curve of his glowing eyes. “I was just passing through,” he says. “Thought you might be in a bit of trouble.”

Urgh. “No,” Beau says, bracing herself. She jumps to her feet without too much wooziness, which she’s going to count as a win. “Everything’s fine. Nothing to see here.”

“Is that so,” the man says.

“I haven’t seen you around before,” Beau says, flexing her fingers. She bends down again to grab her staff. “You here for the festival?”

“You could say that,” the man says.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Beau says. “I don’t speak bullshit.”

“On the contrary, I expect that’s the only language you do speak.”

Beau lunges forward. “Excuse –”

He’s gone.

Beau whirls around at the sound of mocking laughter. The drow is standing behind her, eyes in half-moons, arms crossed. He’s leaning casually against the pole of a streetlamp.

Twirling her staff, Beau rushes him. She lands a blow with a sickening crack, following up with her fists –

Only to hit the pole. Beau’s knuckles bounce off the metal, numb.

“I’m here to collect a debt,” the man says. He’s still behind her. How did he manage to get behind her again?

“I don’t owe you shit,” Beau says. “I don’t even know who you are.”

The man tuts. “I think you owe quite a few people you don’t know quite a few things,” he says. “That speakeasy you opened up in the city certainly hasn’t been making bank on generous donations from wealthy benefactors, after all.”

“You’re here about the Mighty Nein?” Beau says, clenching her teeth. “What are you, a tax collector?”

“Well, you certainly don’t pay for all that alcohol,” he says. “But no. In this, you’re not incorrect. You don’t know who I am. But I certainly know who you are, Miss Lionett.”

Beau briefly closes her eyes. She shifts around her grip on her staff. “Is this something Dad owes you?”

The man lifts up his hand, like he’s ringing an imaginary bell. “Ding! And your father insisted on you being slow. No, I think you’re just the intelligence level I need for this.”

“For what?” Beau says, and then snaps into a flurry of blows. He’s gone before she can even land a glancing hit, which is nothing if not a blow to her pride.

“Just a little job I need done,” he says. Beau doesn’t turn around this time. She looks from side to side, mind frantically working out some new strategy. There’s still no one outside, despite the sun being well above the buildings by now. Festival or no festival, the harvest must be tended. Beau’s father would skin anyone who thought about skipping a day of work because of too much late-night partying. Beau would know. She’s borne the brunt of one-too-many early-morning shouting matches over that exact situation.

“I don’t work for assholes,” Beau says.

“And yet you work for your father,” he says.

Beau grins into the distance, sharp as a knife. “I wouldn’t say I work for him exactly.”

The man snaps his fingers. “Of course! What I meant was ‘embezzle’! But that’s not important right now, Miss Lionett. I’m here because I was promised something very valuable in return for services rendered, say – hmm. Eighteen years ago?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Beau says.

“Why doesn’t it surprise me that Thoreau Lionett never mentioned how he came into his wealth?”

Beau stops short. “You can’t be.”

“Oh, he did mention me. How delightful.”

Beau spins on her heel to stare at him. “You were the one who told him to come here. To start making wine.”

“And oh, how he has prospered,” he says, holding out his arms wide to encompass the buildings behind him. “And all I asked in return was a promise for help. Eighteen years later, and here I am, seeking to have that promise fulfilled.”

“I didn’t promise you shit,” Beau says.

“But your father did, when I talked to him last night,” the man says. “He suggested that you might be more than capable of killing the beast that hunts in the dark forest. You are decent with that weapon of yours, am I correct? Decent enough to kill a monster?”

Beau narrows her eyes.

“You want me to kill something,” she says. “That’s your repayment. Eighteen years ago, you looked at my Dad – who is pathetic when it comes to weapons – and thought, gee, this guy looks like just the man for the job.”

“I didn’t know I wanted this beast killed eighteen years ago,” the man says. “Now I do.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“You don’t have to believe me,” the man says. He snaps his fingers. His eyes flare an intense gold, and for a split-second Beau can almost see the misshapen shadows of wings burned into the wall behind him. Then the wall is gone, the ground is gone, everything is gone. Beau unbalances and falls down onto her knees, staff automatically digging into – into something to stabilise herself. She blinks heavily and looks around.

They are no longer in the village. Beau cautiously gets to her feet, head still pounding, and looks around at the dense forest that stretches out as far as she can see – which isn’t very far. The trees are packed so closely together that it’s impossible to make out anything from more than three feet away. She takes a step forward and gets her foot tangled up in a web of tree-roots that are just sort of chilling on top of the dirt.

“Find the monster and kill it,” the man says. Beau looks up. He’s sitting in the branches of a tree, lounging casually. “All your father’s debts will be repaid, and I will never trouble your doorstep again.”

“I didn’t agree to this,” Beau howls, stumbling over to kick viciously at the tree trunk. She peels off some sodden, moss-covered bark, but the rest of it is healthy. Mostly she just gets wet for the effort.

“Who knows,” the man says. He sounds almost amused, the jerk. “Maybe it will kill you first. That would certainly be entertaining, if inconvenient.”

“Take – me – back!”

The man snaps his fingers, and he’s gone.

.

Beau would like to say that she handles the situation with maturity and poise.

What she does is yell out every swear-word known to man (and a few only known to halflings) and kick at things until her ankles are swollen and her knees are bloody and damp. It takes her a good ten minutes to calm down. By then, she’s already figured out that she’s probably scared off all the small game in the area and attracted this “monster” for an easy feast.

“What a dick,” she says, trudging in – a direction. A random direction. There are no signs of anything monstrous anywhere, Beau is literally faking this whole thing until she can make it. “What was Dad thinking, listening to someone who won’t even show his face – it’s shady, that’s what it is, and I know Dad isn’t as stupid as he pretends to be –”

Beau keeps walking. And walking. And walking.

There’s some part of her that thinks that maybe she should just – stop? For a little while? Take a break, try to get some bearing on her surroundings. Climb a tree, yeah, that’d be a good idea. Beau is too irritated to be thinking logically, though. Maybe in half an hour. Maybe in an hour.

(It takes two hours and twenty minutes).

“Okay,” Beau says to herself when she’s finally calmed down from her impromptu temper tantrum. She limbers up and looks around for the nearest sturdy-looking tree, which is all of them. There are so many trees here. Beau is starting to feel claustrophobic just thinking about it. “Here I go –”

And then she’s shooting towards the sky.

There’s nothing quite so freeing as parkouring up a tree. Beau can’t quite stop herself from laughing as she twists mid-air, catching onto a low-hanging branch and propelling herself up. She’s at the top almost too soon, but she hasn’t even broken the canopy, so she just jumps onto the closest trunk and keeps going.

It takes a while to find somewhere she can get a decent view from. She clings to the bendy part of the top of the tree and sways with the wind. The sun is already settled comfortably into the centre of the sky, heat tickling the back of Beau’s neck. The view is incredible.

And also – unfortunately – familiar.

“Oh fuck,” Beau says, staring in dismay at the castle which emerges out of the canopy in the distance. It looms, dark even in the sunlight. “That’s what he meant by monster.”

.

Once upon a time…

(“Why do you always start your stories like that, grandpa? Can’t you just tell me when it happened?”

“I don’t always know that. And shh, stop interrupting you impertinent girl. It’ll be worth your while.”)

…there was a girl.

These things always seem to start with a girl. She was beautiful, because all good heroines must be beautiful, and brave, because they must always be brave too. And she fell in love, as beautiful brave girls do, and everything was right in the world.

Only, she fell in love with the wrong person.

Destiny is a funny thing, little girl. She fell in love with teeth and claws and bloodstained blades. There was a Creature stalking in the night, and the girl went outside and made it her friend.

(“That’s stupid. Who would fall in love with something like that?”

“Hush, it’s only a story.”)

And when the time came for the girl to be married to the man chosen for her, she repudiated him and instead ran to the comfort of her Creature. Her family, fearing the worst, hurried after her, and –

(“And? And what? You can’t end things like that!”

“It’s getting late, Beau. I’ll finish this story tomorrow night.”

“Please? Please? Tomorrow is so far away, grandpa.”

“What do you want me to say? The girl dies and the Creature forever haunts the forest. The end.”

“That’s a horrible end.”

“That’s the one I was told, and the one I’m telling you.”

“Make up a better ending, then.”

“Go to sleep, Beau.”)

.

There are stories about the castle.

Of course there are stories about the castle. Kamordah is a small village. There are stories about the well being haunted. There are stories about how Miss-So-And-So definitely killed Mister-So-And-So at that crossroads over there, and if you look on the night of a full moon, you can still see the bloodstains. There are stories about the castle.

Kamordah is surrounded by a forest, as all good villages are want to do. Beau has to trudge through an endless expanse of greenery to get to the city, and has to trudge right back through to return. As with any forest that encompasses more than sixty square feet of shrubbery, people get lost.

It happens. The village has learned to accept that sometimes, people walk too far into the trees and don’t come back for a good few days. Maybe even weeks, depending on how stupid they are. They come back wild-eyed and so scared.

(some of them stay scared for the rest of their lives).

“There’s – there’s something in there,” people say, shaking. Always shaking. “A beast – a monster – I was walking for hours – days – lifetimes – and then there it was. A castle, right out of a fairy tale. Tall enough to touch the sky. Spiked to stab the sun. And there was nothing else, no other way out. I turned around and walked away and it was still there in front of me. And eventually I had to go to the gate.”

Beau used to hide on the side of the staircase, half-hidden by wine barrels and the railing. Her father was the unofficial-official leader of the village, and the police always brought crazy people to his house when they reappeared.

Her father had never seemed surprised at any of the insane ramblings. Beau would peek out between the slats and stare at him, and the policeman, and whatever person for that month was hunched over in a chair.

“Wings,” they would say. “Bat wings – skeletal wings – eyes right out of the fires of hell. A bloodless face.”

“And what happened to you when you went inside?”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Beau heard a thousand times. “No matter how far I ran, the castle would always be waiting for me. I opened the gate and that – that thing was there, and it spoke to me, but I can’t remember what it said. It was too horrifying. I passed out.”

(Or, sometimes, if they were more foolish than fearful, it was:

“I opened the gate and it was there, the creature. It spoke, but I don’t remember what it said. Then it led me into the castle. I don’t remember what happened after that, only that it was – it was horrifying beyond words. Please. Please. Don’t make me think about it anymore.”)

They would all walk free the next day, unrestricted by wounds, barely a half-hours straight walk from the village. And they could not stop shaking.

Here’s what everyone knows:

There’s a monster in the castle.

It’ll get you if you wander too far.

.

“Looks like I’m caught,” Beau says to herself, leaning back against the tree and closing her eyes.

That was something everyone had agreed on. Once you saw the castle, there was no escape.

She slides down the trunk and lands on the ground with her knees bent. She doesn’t immediately straighten up, just looks down at the ground with pursed lips and balances her elbows against her knees. She has to think this through.

On one hand – the monster has never really killed anyone. Traumatised, yes. Ruined lives, absolutely. But not necessarily killed.

There’s something she’s missing here. Something that man doesn’t want her to know.

On the other hand…maybe this would do it. Maybe this would be the thing that stopped her father from looking through her. Maybe he would finally see that he fucking owed her for throwing her under the cart like this. Maybe –

Beau leans back and collapses into a cross-legged position, laughing.

“Sure,” she says, grinning up into the green-dappled light of the canopy. “Yeah, that’s gonna do it. Let’s wash the slate clean.” She rolls her eyes.

Beau gets up and brushes herself off. She’s spent the last few years bouncing off from person to person, learning what she could and stealing what she couldn’t. She’s gotten good at reading people, is what she’s saying. And that man had wanted nothing good from her, or from her family. In the loosest sense of the word, of course.

She starts walking forward. It doesn’t matter if she’s walking towards the castle, or away from it. According to the stories, it’ll find her eventually.

And it does.

Beau isn’t surprised when she looks up and sees the castle. Still, it’s a little jarring – she’s been periodically checking the horizon, trying to catch a glimpse of anything off in the distance. There aren’t too many clear spaces between the branches, so she’s working with a very limited amount of vision. She’s careful, and methodical, and it still manages to catch her off guard.

The castle is large. It imposes itself between the spaces of the forest, dark and ominous despite the light. The bricks are old obsidian, chiselled smooth and worn rough. The walls are crumbling in on themselves, the edges uneven and covered in thick layers of ivy. At the front there is a gatehouse, tall and spiked, framed by the two separate towers built into the far edges.

Beau breaks free of the forest and into the clearing, stopping at the edge of the still lake that surrounds the building. Around the sides, the trees are reflected almost perfectly against the dark waters. The only entrance to the castle is the long, thinly arched walkway leading to the front gate.

She wets her lips and unslings her staff from across her back. Okay. Okay. The castle has stepped out of her dreams and made itself stone, surreal and beautiful and imposing.

Beau walks forward.

.

Beau doesn’t remember walking across the moat.

It’s like she’s in a dream, already being pulled too many ways. She’s following flawed logic. The closer she gets, the more muddled her thoughts become, until she’s a hazy mess of thoughts and images. She leans forward, and back, forward, and back, and keeps moving. The Creature who greets her is tall and solidly built, with sad eyes hiding beneath a white mask.

“Beauregard,” it says. “You’ve returned.”

Beau blinks a few times, but nothing comes into focus. She tries to say something, but the words don’t want to come out. All of a sudden, she’s drowning. Her lungs strain under the thick weight of the air.

What’s happening to me? she thinks.

The Creature steps forward as soon as Beau’s feet hit the end of the moat, lifting Beau like she weighs nothing (which is certainly not true, it’s all muscle) and carrying her back towards the Castle.

“It will wear off in a few hours,” it says.

Beau makes a noise in the back of her throat. Mostly she’s trying not to vomit.

“I’ll leave you with Jester until then.”

Which means nothing to Beau. She grabs onto the Creature’s fur coat with all the strength in her inexplicably weakened body. Leaning up into the Creature’s ear, she hisses: “What the hell is going on?”

The Creature stares down at her through the expressionless mask. There are no wings. There is no fire, or blood, or ice. Beau is almost let down by the lack of melodrama – or she would be, if her head would stop spinning.

“You’re here to kill me, aren’t you?” the Creature says. “You’ll want to sleep off the nausea before you do that. I’ve heard it’s rather unpleasant.”

Beau punches the Creature. Tries to.

Embarrassingly enough, she faints.

.

[timelordthirteen]

In All Things 8/?

Mr. Gold/BelleFrench, Explicit (eventually)

Summary: A Rumbelle arranged marriage AU.

Chapter Summary: Gold arrives home from the palace, in a less than pleasant mood, and asks a very important favor of Jefferson.

Notes: I promise Gold and Belle are going to start getting closer soon, and we're going to get a bit more of Jefferson's backstory as well. For the 31 Days prompt #8: snow.

[AO3]

Previous: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

The trip home from his visit, four days later, did nothing for Gold’s mood.

His leg was killing him, and he longed to stretch out in his own space and drink tea made in his own house. The previous night had seen a chilling rain move through the region, leaving some portions of the road even bumpier than usual, and with an added slickness that made the carriage slow to a crawl at several points. He grumbled about it, but an injured horse was the last thing he needed, so he told himself to stuff his impatience and keep quiet.

Thornhill was a welcome site as they came around the bend, and he sighed. He was not fit company at the moment, but Bae was already out front, waving as the carriage rolled through the gate. Jefferson was next to him, but no one else, and he felt a small tinge of disappointment that Belle wasn’t there as well. No doubt she was glad to be rid of him for the week, and it was just as well, since there was now the matter of sorting out what had gone on between her and her previous fiance, Sir Gaston, that triggered a slew of rumors being spread around the royal court.

The scowl on his face must have conveyed all the information that was needed, because his own son took a step back, suddenly shy and nervous in the presence of his father, and Jefferson was suspiciously reticent.

“Bae,” Gold said tiredly, holding out his arm. Bae came forward and hugged him tight, and he exhaled heavily. “Did you miss me?” Bae shrugged, the corner of his mouth turning up, and Gold bent to kiss the top of his head. “Of course not, probably too busy causing trouble with Moreen and Grace.”

That perked Bae up a bit, and he immediately stepped back, shaking his head and looking affronted. “Nuh-uh, it was Grace who broke the dish, not me!”

Gold raised his eyebrows and shifted his gaze to Jefferson, who hung his head and sighed. The weight on his shoulders lightened a bit as he laughed, and Bae giggled too as wrapped his arms around Gold’s waist again and squeezed. Gold let out a grunt and feigned injury, but he was smiling too wide for it to be believed.

Coming home to his son had always been a balm for his soul, no matter how arduous the journey.

“Sir,” Jefferson said, “There’s a small matter that needs your attention; a letter that’s arrived from Mr. Humbert, but other than the incident with the plate, it’s been quiet.”

“Good,” Gold mumbled, reaching into the carriage to take out his satchel while his cases were unloaded from the back of the carriage. “Have those taken to the laundry. I need to change and freshen up, and then I’ll see you in my library, yes?”

Jefferson gave a short nod and a half bow as Gold strode into the manor.

A brief wash and a change of clothes made Gold feel marginally better.

Jefferson came to see him after an hour, at which point he’d already read through the letter from Graham Humbert, caretaker of one of his properties to the west, and reviewed the rest of the correspondence that had come in while he was gone.

“So it seems the issues with the orchard are continuing,” Gold said with a sigh as he let the letter fall to the desk.

Jefferson nodded glumly and mirrored him from the sofa near the fireplace. “At this point, we’re not sure what we can do. We may have to let some of it go fallow for the next year and see if it improves.”

Gold frowned. “That will reduce the yield even further. The King will not be pleased.”

“It’s already at a five year low,” Jefferson said with a shrug. “And the King, as you’ve said before, can ‘sod off unless he’s willing to get down in the dirt with the regular people.’”

That earned Jefferson a momentary smirk. “We have extra stores and extra funds, but we may need most of it to get through the winter. They’re still saying it will be one of the worst in a decade.”

The two men sat in silence for a few minutes, until Gold stood up. He moved to the fireplace and prodded at the logs as Jefferson watched him thoughtfully.

“Let’s hear it,” Jefferson said, stretching his arms out along the back of the lounge.

Gold frowned over his shoulder and then set the iron poker aside. “Hear what?”

Jefferson gave him an exasperated look. “Whatever it is that’s bothering you. It’s been evident since you returned.”

Gold exhaled and nodded, then moved to sit across from Jefferson in a high backed leather chair where he put his feet up on the ottoman.

“King George, he - he mentioned Lady Belle’s first engagement.”

Jefferson’s head tilted. They had both known that Belle was supposed to be married to Sir Gaston and that after only two months the whole thing had fallen through, but the particulars had never been divulged. Gold laid out every detail of what the King had said, his hand curling into a tight fist as he recounted the implication that Belle had taken other suitors and perhaps tried to entrap multiple eligible men into marrying her by getting pregnant.

“Ridiculous,” Jefferson said, his usually gentle voice sharpened by derision and irritation. “Lady Belle is far too sweet for any of that nonsense. She doesn’t have a manipulative bone in her body!”

Gold’s fingers tapped against the leather arms, drumming lightly on the brass rivets that went along the sides and front. He wanted to believe Jefferson was right, but something was nagging at him about the whole situation, beyond that his new wife was being talked about at court so distastefully.

“You don’t believe it, do you?” Jefferson sat forward, frowning. “You can’t, it’s - it’s -”

“Undetermined,” Gold finished.

Jefferson sprang to his feet, flipping his long coat out behind him. “What?”

Gold raised a hand to settle his friend and stared into the fire. “Something happened between her and Gaston, and now Gaston is spreading lascivious rumors, but -”

“But what?” Jefferson nudged Gold’s feet aside and sat down on the ottoman, facing him. “It bothers you that you don’t know the truth, and you won’t feel like you can trust her until you do?”

He huffed out a breath and closed his eyes before nodding slowly. “I don’t like it, but I can’t shake it.”

“You could ask her you know.” Gold looked up, eyes wide, and Jefferson shook his head. “It’s the simplest solution, and she has a right to know that she’s being slandered.”

“Yes, I’m sure that will go over well.” He looked from Jefferson back to the fireplace. “My Lady would you be so kind as to tell me all the terrible details of how your first engagement was broken and nearly ruined your family for good?”

Jefferson snorted. “Well, I imagined you’d be a little more tactful and eloquent than that, but if you want her to throw a teapot at your head, then so be it.”

Gold swallowed and looked down at his hands as he fiddled with his ring. “You could do it.”

“Pardon?” Jefferson leaned forward and dipped his head to catch Gold’s gaze. “I’m sure you’re joking.”

“You’ve done it before, it’s -”

“No.” Jefferson stood again and crossed his arms. “We agreed that was over. No.”

“Jefferson, please -”

“Cameron!” he hissed.

Jefferson’s eyes were wide and pleading, and Gold felt a pang in his chest. He knew that asking this might damage their friendship forever, but he needed to know the truth if he was going to trust Belle with everything. With his son. More than that, he felt an obligation to protect her reputation, now that he’d participated in sullying it. If there was something in her past that could be used to harm her in the future, and it brought harm to Bae as well, he’d never forgive himself.

“This is for Baeden, not me,” Gold said softly. “I have to know. I don’t want anything to be used against her, and if it’s all bollocks as we think it is, then I want Gaston to pay for whatever he’s done to her.”

Jefferson took a breath and leaned against the mantle, resting his head on his forearm. The heat from the flames warmed his leather boots until they felt like they might melt before he straightened and then turned to Gold.

“Fine,” he said evenly. “But this is absolutely the last time.”

Gold inclined his head. “Agreed.”

“And,” he continued, “Grace gets Hampton House.”

Gold’s eyebrows lifted and his mouth opened in a soft ‘oh.’ “Making a deal, dearie?” Jefferson’s glare could have stopped a bear in its tracks, and Gold sighed. “Fine, yes.”

Jefferson gave a quick nod and tugged on the lapels of his jacket. “Good.”

His steps were sharp as he walked to the door of the study, and Gold sagged in his chair. “It was going to be hers anyway.”

Jefferson stopped at the door and turned around, meeting Gold’s gaze as he leaned around the side of the chair. “Hampton House. I was going to wait until she was sixteen and sign it over to her. Pretty young girl, with a sharp wit, a house, and an inheritance all her own? She could marry anyone she wanted.”

Gold pushed up and stood to face Jefferson. “I just want my boy safe and cared for, the same as you want for Grace.”

“And Belle?”

Jefferson’s stare was hard, and Gold nodded solemnly. “Her too.”

They seemed to agree on that, and Jefferson left without another word. Gold dropped back into the chair and leaned forward, his face in his hands as he breathed in and out steadily. He hated asking his friend to do such a thing, especially after their shared history, but he needed to know the truth and Jefferson was the only one he trusted to do it discreetly and thoroughly.

With another heavy sigh, he pushed to his feet and rang the bell for the maid. He would take his dinner in his room as he was even less fit for company now than when he arrived.

Jefferson stewed for two days before he got down to the business of making inquiries about Lady Belle and Sir Gaston’s engagement.

He started by trying to prod Belle into just telling him what had happened, but all his subtle hints went unnoticed, and he was afraid to be more blunt for fear of pushing her away. He had come to respect and care for Belle in a very short time and was happy to consider her a friend. One day he was certain they’d be dear friends, and he was glad that Bae and Grace would have her in their lives. Both children had lost their mothers young, and while he and Gold did they best they could as fathers, he knew having a mother was a different thing entirely. He hoped that Belle might be that for them, the kind, strong, and caring figure they needed later in life.

He did manage to find out that Belle’s mother had also died when she was young, barely passed eleven, and it solidified even more that whatever stories were being told about her were untrue. She was far too good for all of that nonsense, but there was a hint of something in her countenance that was closed to him. He began to understand where Gold’s fear had originated, but he got the sense that whatever it was, it wasn’t known to anyone but herself.

That morning, he sent out letters to a few key contacts at the royal court, making small inquiries after Sir Gaston. He knew the man wasn’t well liked overall, and assumed it would be easy to find where the bodies were buried, hopefully only metaphorically.

He had just finished calculating the staff’s wages for the month, when Belle came into the downstairs study.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, starting to back out of the room.

“No, no, do come in.” He set the ledger book aside and returned the pen to its holder. “I was just finishing up.”

She eased back into the room, and he smiled. Her dress was a delightfully bright and springy yellow with white piping at the edges and a scrolling pattern of pearls around the bodice. The lace around the hem had clearly seen better days, but that was easily remedied. Ms. Potts was an excellent seamstress, as were two of the younger ladies, but he thought that fairly soon, she’d probably have a whole new wardrobe if she wanted it.

“So,” she started, drawing out the ‘oh’ sound, “how are you?”

“I’m well, you?” He moved from the desk to a chair near the window and gestured for her to take the other.

Belle shrugged. “Well, I suppose.”

He frowned. “That’s not very convincing. Would you like to try again?”

She gave a short laugh and then sighed. “I haven’t seen, um, Gold today. Or yesterday. I’m starting to think he’s avoiding me.”

Jefferson sat back, the fingers of his left hand fiddling with the buckle at the top of his boot as he absorbed that bit of information and made a mental note to speak to Gold. “He’s always a bit grumpy when he comes back from the palace, I wouldn’t take it personally.”

“It’s a bit hard not to,” she admitted. “Is he...grumpy often?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Only a little more than everyone else. There’s a lot of...pressure from the King to help keep things in order.”

“Ah.”

Jefferson remained silent for a long moment, but when she didn’t say anything more, he reached for her hand. She startled at bit at his touch, and he gave her a small smile.

“Are you alright?”

She took a breath, and then pulled her hand away. “I’m fine.”

“Again, not very convincing,” he said, starting to grin. “You would make a terrible actress.”

Belle gave him a momentarily scowl and then shook her head. “I’ve never been good at lying, I couldn’t get away with so much as a muddy shoe print on the rug as a child, and I had no siblings to blame it on.”

Jefferson laughed softly. “I’m afraid that at one time in my life, lying was as easy to me as breathing.” Belle frowned at him and he sighed. “That, I am happy to say, is all behind me.”

She smiled and rested her hand on his, giving it a light squeeze, and he felt his stomach sink. Lying was still entirely too easy for him, it was just that he actually felt the effects of it now, the guilt of it all burning its way through his soul. He reminded himself that this was better for all of them in the long run.

“The other day,” she began, “last week, actually, when - when we met in the garden?”

Jefferson swallowed. “Yes?”

“I, um - well, before that, I came out of my room and I heard - I heard you and - and Lord Gold.”

He blinked and something clicked into place as she nibbled on her bottom lip. He and Gold had one of their spirited arguments that everyone at Thornhill was more than used to, but it occurred to him that someone new such as Belle wouldn’t know the kind of relationship he had with his friend and employer. She wouldn’t understand that Gold’s snappishness and sarcasm was well matched with his own, and that there was never any offense meant. He’d only been trying to coax Gold into being honest with Belle about his situation and Bae’s, which he’d given up on for now.

“Ah,” he said finally. “Well, that explains things.”

Her head tilted. “I don’t understand. He was so -”

“Loud?” he offered. “Abrasive? Rude?”

Belle shifted in her seat. “Um…”

Jefferson chuckled. “All three?” She gave him a sideways look and then nodded. “Oh, darling, don’t mind him. We’ve always been like that with each other, and truly there is no offense meant or taken. I was pushing him to do something, and he was pushing back, that’s all.”

She seemed uncertain and began to pick at a loose thread on her skirt. “Oh. Well, I’m sorry I overheard.”

“Did it...scare you?” he asked, sitting forward.

“A bit, maybe.” She looked out the window and then back to him. “I barely know him, and I didn’t know what to think.”

His look was soft and sympathetic, and he reached for her hand, pressing it between both of his. “His bark is far worse than his bite, that I can promise you. He’s like an old toothless dog.”

That made her laugh, and he grinned, basking in the lovely sound. Lady Belle of Avonlea was truly a gem, and he knew that once they dealt with this nasty business with Gaston, that all would be well.

“I was actually looking for him earlier,” she said. “I was hoping we could - we could talk.”

He patted the back of her hand and agreed. “Yes, I think that would be a very good idea.

Belle leaned her forehead against the cold glass, watching as the little puffs of breath from her nose fogged the window.

What Jefferson had said about his relationship with Gold seemed truthful, and she felt better having said something about what she heard, even if it she had yet to broach the subject with Gold. Since he’d returned from King George’s palace, he’d been keeping to himself and the few times she tried to seek him out, he seemed to be well secluded somewhere in the house.

Jefferson insisted that if she was honest with Gold, he would be honest with her, and while she had no reason to doubt it, the thought of confronting Lord Cameron Gold about anything seemed daunting.

Do the brave thing, her mother’s voice echoed.

She let out a heavy sigh, obscuring the view momentarily. At the bottom of the window, snow had begun to accumulate, and she shivered before turning away from the window to draw the curtains.

[mcwriting]

starstruck (4)

Here it is... finally! It’s ~angsty~ but it was really fun to write. 

I will say, I realized while writing this that the timeline of this fic is sooooo short but hey, its fiction, so I guess anything can happen lol. I tried to resolve it in later chapters but it’s definitely quick moving in these initial chapters. 

There’s a lot of italics in this one lol

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

Fandom: Thomas Stanley Holland

Ship: Tom Holland x Reader (eventual)

Setting: LA in general

Word Count: 2240 yeet

Warnings: angst, some mild language

Rating: still k+ right now

Last time on starstruck...

“Hey what’s going on? Uh huh. No, we actually have it handled. I might or might not be with her right now… no it’s fine. Seriously, we are laying low! We’re on the way to the hotel right now. Alright, alright I’ll see what I can do. See you in a few.”

And with that, he hung up, turned to you, and said, “That was my manager. Apparently we’ve got a problem.”

                            __________________________________

You pulled underneath the awning of the posh hotel Tom was boarding at, the kind of place you only dreamed of staying.

Sure, your family wasn’t poor, but your parents definitely weren’t the type of people to spend a lot of money on hotels. They claimed to enjoy spending more money on the “fun” parts of vacations than where you slept at night.

To each their own, you supposed.

Tom wanted you to come inside, per request of his manager, so you figured you would drop him off and park so you wouldn’t be seen together. 

The valet had other plans, however, pulling you out of the car and exchanging your keys with a numbered slip of paper. 

It all happened so fast that for a moment you just stood there, stunned. You snapped out of it when the man began to drive off and Tom grabbed you to lead you inside.

The lobby was massive and covered with marble flooring. A large, plush rug covered many of the tiles and on top of it sat some luxurious couches and armchairs, framing a huge TV on the wall. 

On the other side was a long marble counter that seated hotel staff, who stood at the ready upon seeing Tom.

You also couldn’t help but note the smell, a light, sweet floral scent wafting through the air pleasantly. 

This must be rich people scent you thought to yourself.

Due to the nature of it being midday, very few people were seen in the lobby, and Tom led you straight through to a hallway and past the main elevators, his hand resting on your lower back the entire time.

“I have access to a service lift so less people will see,” he explained, as if he’d just read your confused mind.

You walked briskly with Tom through the winding hall, finally ending up at the alternate elevator, where he swiped his key card and the doors slid open with a few creaks.

You tapped your foot nervously as you passed floor by floor, letting go of a breath you didn’t realize you were holding upon reaching the top.

Once again, you followed behind Tom through the hall and to his room. You stood awkwardly in the doorway, clenching onto the straps of your beach bag, as he entered to find more suitable clothing.

After disappearing for a moment, he popped his head back out.

“You can come in, you know. This might take a few minutes.”

You stepped further into his suite, making your way to the sliding doors attached to a balcony. Looking out you could see Los Angeles in full light, the people and cars below feeling so out of reach, like nothing you had ever experienced in your city.

You seemed so out of place in the heavily decorated room still in beach clothing and legs covered in sand.

You could hear Tom rummaging through the drawers and walked over, giving a gentle knock on the open door.

“Having trouble, twinkle toes?” you joked at the way he pillaged through his clothes. He smiled at your commentary.

“Maybe a bit. Do you need anything? A drink, snack? The fridge is stocked so take anything you like.”

You were surprised at his generosity and at how little he cared about paying for that stuff. In your family, everything in the hotel room was off limits if it wasn’t free.

“I think I’m good but do you mind if I use your restroom? I really need to rinse this sand off and put on some real clothes.”

“Go right ahead,” he gestured to the bathroom door.

The bathroom was also massive, especially for a hotel. The shower thankfully had a handheld spray head so you were able to just target and rinse your legs. You tugged on some athletic shorts and a loose tank top to replace your former garments.

You quickly used the toilet too and went to wash your hands, not believing how many fancy soaps and lotions covered the counter. 

As you lathered, a small bottle caught the corner of your eye. It was a light yellowish color and read “OBSESSION for men.” 

Of course he would wear Calvin Klein cologne. Now I know.

You finished up and made a final once over in the mirror, fixing some stray hairs in your ponytail and opening up the door. 

You stopped in your tracks as your eyes laid upon Tom, who was shirtless with his back to you, the elastic of his underwear poking out of his pants’ waistline.

“You’re a pretty big fan of Calvin Klein, huh?” you asked, referring to both the cologne and his boxers. He turned around, giving you a view of his bare chest, which didn’t disappoint, a fact that you pretended was annoying.

“Hah, yeah. I really want to do an ad campaign with them if you couldn’t tell,” he bent over to pick up a shirt from the bed and toss it on. 

“Well with the cologne and underwear you’re pretty much a walking billboard.”

“You like the cologne?” he asked, causing your face to heat up. You knew a blush was present and probably obvious, so you decided not to lie. 

“Yeah, actually I do. It’s a nice scent. It also happens to be all over my bed right now thanks to a certain someone,” you tipped down your chin and raised an eyebrow accusingly. 

“You want it? The company actually sent me like… eight bottles and a bunch of clothes not too long ago after I posted on Instagram about them. I can’t get rid of them fast enough,” he offered, walking towards you.

“What? No! I couldn’t just take that from you. What would I tell my friends when they see men’s cologne bottle in my room? I can’t say ‘oh yeah Tom Holland gave it to me’ and it would be majorly out of character to tell everyone that it’s what you wear.”

He went past you into the bathroom and rummaged through a toiletry bag, muttering an “aha!” when he pulled out another bottle identical to the one on the counter, except this was sealed and full.

“Seriously Tom I can’t just tak-” you started when he dropped the bottle into your bag.

“Whoops,” he quipped, “no take backs. Now your bed can forever smell like me”

You were ready to argue again (with an undeniable smile on your face) when there was a loud rapping on the main door.

Tom grimaced at you to wordlessly send a message of ‘prepare yourself’ as he took a deep breath in and headed out of his bedroom. You silently followed into the living room and watched Tom open the door, where a well dressed man and woman pair stood talking.  

                            __________________________________

At first you and Tom together discussed the plan you had made at the beach with his manager and publicist, neither of whom seemed to like the idea very much.

They asked to speak with Tom privately, so you relocated back into the bedroom and sat on the side of his bed, reminiscing on how the roles were almost reversed compared to only two evenings prior. 

You were only in there for about ten minutes, but it seemed like hours. You were too anxious to mess with your phone and instead looked out his window.

There was a quiet knock on the door before Tom opened it. You recognized the steely look in his eyes and the way his jaw was clenched. 

He motioned for you to come out, and almost immediately after stepping into the living room his manager started talking to you.

“So, y/n, right? I’m gonna have to give this to you straight. You cannot be seen with my client ever again,” she stated bluntly, “it’s nothing against you, of course, but Tom here needs to maintain a ‘single’ rep until this movie is no longer in theatres and frankly you’re jeopardizing the whole thing.”

Your eyebrows shot up and you weren’t happy to hear this woman’s feigned criticisms.

“I’m sorry, but Tom is the one who sought me out. I never liked him, you could ask any person who knows me and they would tell you the same. I’m only here because Tom asked me to meet him about getting rid of this whole ‘scandal’ or whatever you want to call it. So if anyone is jeopardizing Tom, it’s himself.”

The publicist took a step forward.

“Look, miss y/n, it’s really nothing against you, we just want to maintain his image, and the best way to do so would be for us to go online and tell everyone he helped you get medical attention for an injury, which we all know is true, and end it at that. It makes Tom look like a hero, and you’ll be popular for weeks with your peers I’m sure,” he explained, angering you further. 

“I never asked for this. I don’t want attention. I don’t want the world, or more importantly my best friend, to find out I’ve been lying about the guy I used to hate. Do you realize how many rumors this will fuel? This is ridiculous and I can’t allow you to put out my information like this.”

“Oh, well. Too bad. I just sent the tip to TMZ and they’re posting the story tonight,” he replied, “and Tom is going live on Instagram at 4:00 to address it the way we told him to and you two can’t be seen together again. Text all you want like you have been, but no public contact. Unless of course we want to do a ‘girl saved by hero reunites with him’ thing. Oh man would that look so good-”

“I’m done. This is so sick. Tom,” you looked directly into his eyes, “never contact me again, you disgusting cheap sellout bastard,” you spat, a fire in your own eyes like nothing anyone had ever seen from you.

“Y/n I-“ he began, but you were already heading to the door. You could hear footsteps behind you and the door slam shut but you kept power walking towards the main elevators, hoping they were the opposite direction from which you and Tom initially came.

“Wait!” he cried out, finally catching up and grabbing your elbow.

You threw his hand off but stopped moving forward and instead spun around to face him. Tears had made their way down your cheeks by now and you weren’t any happier to be so vulnerable in front of Tom. 

Never in your life did or expect the next (or even last) guy you’d cry over would be Tom Holland.

“Y/n, please listen,” he pleaded, his face was also red, as if he were going to cry himself. You stood firm and gave him an expectant glare, so he continued.

“I don’t want to do this, I really don’t. Please understand that I have to, though, no matter how much this hurts. We can still talk. I was so drawn to you the second I saw you in that crowd just last week and I could’ve never imagined how close you could become in the short amount of time we’ve known each other. Please, babe, I don’t want to lose you.”

Anger flashed inside of you again and you felt your chest tighten at the bomb he’d just dropped..

“Do you really, Tom? Do you really care? Because to me it sounds like you actually have a choice here, but you’re too much of a pushover to do what’s right. If you really cared, you wouldn’t do this to me. I was serious back there. Don’t talk to me again, and definitely don’t call me babe if you do.” 

 “I’m so, so sorry, y/n,” Tom’s voice finally broke, and you could see the way his lip quivered as he continued, “I’m sorry I ever got you into this mess.”

“Me too,” you whispered. 

You wiped more stray tears and turned, looking back one last time into the face of the broken-hearted celebrity, hoping it was the last time you would ever see his face, but knowing it wouldn’t be the end of it.

                            __________________________________

You exited the elevator, which you were glad was empty. More tears had fallen on the journey down and you mustered up everything you could to stop them, at least until you were off the premises of the hotel. 

Though knowing you looked like a wreck, you walked through the hotel lobby with head held high, looking straight forward at the large front doors. 

Your numbered ticket was in hand and you gladly gave it to the valet so he could pull up your car.

It was getting harder to hold it together as you waited. Finally, he appeared and parked the car in front of you.

He held out the keys and then stood directly in front of you, silently pleading for a tip, even though he could probably see the obvious anguish on your face. 

Finally, you gave in, rolling your eyes as you dug through your bag for a spare $5 bill and slapped it into his hand with disdain.

“How kind. Have a nice day, ma’am!” he voiced cheerily.

You fought the urge to flip him off as you sat down in the driver’s seat and began the journey back home, dread filling your stomach the closer home became.

                           __________________________________

A/N: yeehaw that was a fun time. Next chapter is angsty too sorry I don’t make the rules... :)

Tag List: @marvel-lously, @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl

[cupidsmusings]

The Affair That Never Happened

Description: It was here third and final and final year at Seishun High School. A year that was coveted by most and looked back on with cherished memories. For this particular student though, she found herself in a peculiar situation that set a catalyst for things to come.

Rating: PG-13

Series: The Affair That Never Happened

Chapter 3: To Pen and Paper and Out the Door

Couples: Eventual reader x Shinichi, unrequited reader x Chiharu

Author’s note: In Japan, some love hotels have age restrictions while others do not. In Tokyo, the legal age is 20, which is why the MC is worried about entering a love hotel. Another thing, most love hotels don’t have your normal front desk workers and instead have a touch screen TV in the front lobby to pick which room you’d like. Most staff working in the love hotel are never seen, which is why none were included in seeing her enter the place.

Chapters: 1, 2

   Fuck. Literally what the fuck. She would be finding the entire situation hysterical if it weren’t for the fact that she was almost about to piss herself from fright. What was she supposed to do? Thank God he looked too concerned with keeping himself from vomiting again to take notice of her.

   “Sorry,” Was all he managed to say and held out his hand to her.

   What did he want? Was he having trouble standing and needed help? Moving to the side of him, she grasped his other arm and threw it over her shoulders so he could properly lean against the side that wasn’t covered in vomit. Wait… This could become an even more troublesome predicament. She couldn’t take him back to the dorms. He was drunk as a skunk and she doubted she could handle a fifteen-minute walk back with a grown man basically leaning atop her. Also, it seemed that he hadn’t noticed her, so if she thrust him into a cheap hotel room for him to sleep everything off, she’d be able to leave quickly and return back to the dorms without trouble.

   “Just hang on okay, I’ll find you a hotel for you to stay at tonight.” She told him gently and started to walk forward.

   He released a noise and made a heavy thrust of his head. What an interesting way to nod, but to each their own. The two of them walked at what felt like a snail’s pace and {Name} found herself more and more agitated as the minutes passed. Where was a damn hotel that wouldn’t suck the life out of her wallet?

   “I’m sorry for taking so long,” she apologized and made sure to keep her face out of view of his gaze as she looked about them. “It seems that I’m having trouble finding you a cheap hotel.”

   Without a word, he tightened his grip on her shoulders and guided them down the streets of Tokyo. Despite not being aware of where she was being taken she let herself be guided to a row of hotels. Love hotels. Oh wow. She looked up at him and was fairly amused by the triumphant smirk on his face.

   “Found some.” He slurred, and she couldn’t hold back her laughter.

   “I can see that.” She hummed and looked at the prices listed outside.

   Indeed, love hotels were cheap. What worried her was that she was underage. What would she do if they asked her for her ID? Well, maybe not? A high-school student wouldn’t be out so late with a drunk man. With forced bravado, she guided the two through the entrance of what she thought to be the cheapest hotel amongst them. And when she went to the front desk, she found herself curious about the “themed” rooms mentioned. Imagining the ever so serious Kagari-sensei waking up in a ludicrous room was far too tempting to pass up.

   “What kind of themed rooms do you have?” She found herself asking with a kittenish smirk.

   She clicked the themed rooms button at the top of the touch screen panel and found herself abuzz with excitement. Which one should she pick? The Princess Room? Carnival Room? Medieval Room? A heavy S&M inspired room?

   “Which room would make you squirm the most?” She asked him with a cock of her head.

   He didn’t say anything, and she didn’t expect him to, but when he pressed a button on the Carnival Room, she stared at him with widened eyes.

   “I can’t believe you’re afraid of Carnivals.” She whispered in slight disbelief.

   “Not scared,” he shrugged, or at least tried to but it honestly just looked like he had gotten a cold chill. “It’s just girls like Carnivals, right?”

   That’s when he was staring down at her and she was so stupefied by his answer she forgot to look away. The key-card popping out for them to retrieve was what broke her attention.

   “Well, whatever, let’s hurry up.” She grumbled, a little saddened that she couldn’t choose the S&M room for him.

   The two made their way to the elevator and once on their respected floor, the black tile lit up, pointing them in the direction they needed to go. That was pretty neat.

   “Love hotels are kinda cool, huh?” She commented as they walked to the door of their room. She rummaged through her purse for her wallet, but the large man that might as well have been a large child moved to go through his own pockets.

   “Calm down, I’m paying for it.” She said and tried to swipe her card, but he shoved her hand away with his own so he could swipe his.

   “A gentleman should pay.” He said.

   What a weirdo. It wasn’t as if she was going to stay the night with him, so he didn’t have to act like he was paying for both of them. It made sense for him to pay for it, she knew this because he would be the one staying the night after all. But her stubbornness roared its ugly head and she was more determined than ever to pay for his stay. She shoved his hand away and went to swipe her card, but he, in retaliation to her retaliation, took her wrist in his free hand and moved it sluggishly away so he could successfully swipe his own card.

   Again, that stupid smug smirk was plastered on his face once more. She rolled her eyes and patted him between his shoulder blades.

   “Good job, you true gentleman you.” She commented dryly as she swiped the key card in the door to open it.

   What greeted her was cotton candy-colored walls with large surgery sweets painted on them. The floor was a sparkly pink with blotches of see-through glass randomly placed atop it. Upon further inspection, she could make out glass confections in the shape of balloons and wrapped candies that were surrounded by a gentle layer of soft stretched cotton that gave the falsehood of it being cotton candy. The bed was king-sized, with the four posters striking upward all the way until it touched the ceiling. It twisted and turned like a unicorn's horn and was painted rainbow with a sparkle finish. Carved into the backdrop of the bed was a carousel with nude women and men having sex atop the different animals. There was a couch to the right of the bed that was an ungodly bright shade of yellow with hot pink trimmings. The ceiling was covered with sheets that gave the impression that they were inside of an outdoor circus tent.

  “Toilet,” he managed to mutter out before wrenching himself from her to clumsily make it to the bathroom in time.

   She watched him with pity and slight curiosity. What made him go out drinking so heavily in the first place? Was it the sorrows of love? Was he in debt? Did he realize he’d never get a woman with his rude attitude? Well, that last one could be a part of the sorrows of love but it was an extra jab she couldn’t help giving him. With one final once over of the impressive room she walked into the bathroom. She crouched down beside him and ran a soothing hand up and down his back.

   “You sure did drink a lot, huh?” She smiled at him, not bothering to hide her amusement. “Did you get dumped?”

   “No,” he managed to say after he heaved a few junks in the toilet. “Just met up with an old school buddy that wouldn’t let me leave until he had me drink my fill.”

   “You’re an adult, right? You had the choice to say no, so don’t blame it on your friend. You’re not young enough to experience pure pressure anymore.” She laughed and restrained herself from playfully smacking him on the back.

   “What an astute answer.” He couldn’t say much more because he was throwing up before he could.

   “Not astute, just true.” She hummed and went to gently comb her fingers through his hair. When her father was dealing with a hangover, he liked her mother doing it, so she unconsciously assumed it would help him.

   She should remove her fingers, she knew this, but his hair was so soft. She had never felt such feather-like hair. To be fair she wasn’t going around delving her fingers into the hair of strangers, but it was an honest comment none the less. Once it looked like he was finished, she went ahead and used her already dirtied cardigan to wipe away the leftover vomit that coated his lips.

   “Feels nice.” He smiled at her, and oh boy if he smiled like that more often he would definitely have more suitors.

   “Glad to hear it, I guess.”

   She helped him to his feet and dragged him over to the plush comforter and what seemed to be a thousand pillows that decorated the bed. She watched him sit up and laughed as he put on a dramatic show of trying to remove his suit jacket. Not wanting to waste any more time there than she already did, she hurried to help him remove his jacket. Once out, he reached out and with a contradictory of unsteady but firm hands he tried to undo the buttons of her cardigan, to what she guessed was in order to remove it from her person. She very much liked it on her person though, so she gently pinched the foreskin of his hand.

   “Quit it,” she said but he looked up at her with a stern expression.

   “We have to get you out of your dirty clothes.” He told her, his tone matching that of someone who was telling another that they were about to go into battle.

   “You should take a bath as well,” he started just as she opened her mouth to protest. “You got some in your hair.”

   “I what?” She almost snapped but was thankful that her voice came out more confused than shrill.

   “Here.” He said and gently cupped a few strands of her hair underneath his fingers.

   “Well, that’s just disgusting.” She grumbled on the verge of hurling herself.

   “But it wasn’t when I threw up on your cardigan or when you cleaned my lips for me?” He asked, sounding rather amused despite being the source of her problem.

   “That was on my clothes, but my hair is part of my body, so it’s grosser that way.”

   “Is it?”

   “Yes! Yes, it is!”

   Why was he the one sounding amused now? With a huff, she walked over to the bathroom door before turning a sharp glare at him.

   “If you peek I’ll do some not very nice things to your baby maker.” She warned him before she shut the bathroom door.

   She gently peeled her cardigan off her and made sure that no aspect of vomit touched her skin. Time passed and though she only meant to wash her hair, she had been too tempted by the jetted tub. She had never been in one before, so it was purely for curiosity reasons. It was definitely not because she felt weird leaving the bath after a shower in front of her teacher. Because that would just be silly. And she was a mature woman that didn’t get embarrassed by such things.

   She had been soaking in the jetted tub for about ten minutes when the door was thrusted open, with Kagari-sensei running in. He did not run to the toilet and instead went over to where she was.

   “What the hell are you doing?” She growled and sunk her shoulders deep into the water.

   Thankfully the bubbles from the jets prevented the intruder of seeing her nude form.

   “There’s a camera in here. I pressed a button on the remote and the bathroom popped up on the screen.” He explained, but that was it.

   “One: When did you do this and how much of my body have you seen? Two: Why did you feel the need to enter the bathroom while I bathed? It would have been easier to just pretend like it never happened.” She sighed and quirked a brow at him.

   She wasn’t embarrassed, not at all. Because she was a mature woman and mature women didn’t grow nervous over such things such as the bizarre situation she found herself in. Screw it. This was so embarrassing. She wanted to die. Thankfully the room was also quite dim, so she doubted he could make out her face, let alone her body. But still, death would be appreciated at that point in time. Or the power to teleport. Or the power to erase memories. Both would be amazing to be quite honest.

   “But that would be lying.” He stated firmly. “And I don’t lie.”

   “Everyone lies.” She found herself arguing.

   Was now the time to be arguing? No, no it was not. But here she was, naked as the day she was born arguing with her teacher.

   “Not me. Lying is wrong.”

   “It’s also wrong to come barging into a bathroom where a lady is busy trying to clean herself. Especially after it was the said male that came barging in that caused it. You might as well be the one bathing me.” She replied soddenly.

   That was when he knelt beside the bathtub, readying himself to bath her. She looked to the wall opposite of him, clearly mortified. But with him so close she couldn’t take the chance of him seeing her face. But he saw her face before this right? Maybe he was too drunk to notice? He had not made the comment of knowing who she was. That wasn’t the point though. The point was that she was being sarcastic.

   “I wasn’t being serious. You can leave.” For the love of God leave.

   “Oh, alright.”

   She listened to him walk to the door and waited a minute or two after he left to sink her entire head into the warm water. What a nightmare the night turned out to be. When she left the bath she hurriedly dried her body and only dried the bare minimum of her hair, because if she did all of it, it would take way longer than she would have liked. She just wanted to leave. When she dressed herself she didn’t bother putting her cardigan on and instead opted to just hold it.

   Once out of the bathroom, she found Kagari-sensei’s shoes, pants, and shirt strewn about the floor. He was neatly tucked underneath the sheets like a child. All peaceful and blissful in his drunken state. Screw him for that.

   “Alright,” she started and made sure to reframe from saying his name. “I’ll be leaving now, do you think you’ll be okay?”

   “You can stay too, it’s late after all.”

   “Can’t do that.”

   If he found out who she was he would get her expelled from school before resigning himself in shame. He was far too serious for his own good. At least he seemed to let loose at some points in his life, which was interesting. It was then that she considered that perhaps her school’s teacher’s actually had their own lives outside of being prude-y and stuck-up.

   “At least leave your cardigan.” He urged and before she could reply he gripped the front of her shirt.

   “Fine,” she let out a troubled sigh. “I’ll leave it with my phone number so text me when you’re finished washing it or whatever.”

   “Or whatever? What else would I be doing with it?” He asked, amused once more.

   “Just go to sleep.” She snapped and gently smacked her palm against his forehead. “Set your phone alarms so you don’t oversleep. Bye.”

   She laid her cardigan out on the armchair of the couch before she quickly wrote down her number on a napkin from the bedroom’s wet-bar. She put the napkin on the bright pink coffee table and made sure it was in plain view for him. When she looked at her phone and, upon seeing the time, let out a curse.

   She turned to glare all her frustration out onto the bastard that caused her such trouble. He was, of course, peacefully asleep. With gentle steps not to wake him, she walked over to the bed. With care, she removed his glasses from his face and placed them quietly on the night-stand before leaving the room. It wasn’t until 2:20 that she got back to her room on campus.

[angstalottle]

Lana On The Case

Part 1:

The year is 1949 and the war has been won and over for little more than a year now.

Lana McClain has spent much of the past five years away from her home village in the countryside working in the big city despite the protests of her mother and her warnings of bombs.

But still she toughed it out and did her part for the war effort, something that now that she was returning home left her quite bored and longing for something new.

Perhaps that was why she was dreading returning home so much?

A small village in the north of England with a population of only 200 people spread out across the many corn and wheat fields that surrounded the hand full of buildings and shops.

There was only one rail way station manned only by an older gentleman that even during rationing always seemed to have a lolly pop ready to offer to a hungry evacuated child.

This is where Lana currently sat, half melted into the old wooden bench fanning herself with a train schedule and doing her very best to keep as much distance between the sweltering men that she was unfortunately stuck between.

Despite it still only being early spring the weather had been gradually growing hotter by the day until it reached its peak on today of all days when Lana had to wait around in the boiling sun for her best friend to come pick her up on her way home from work.

The man to her left, a slim fellow with dark hair and a full beard that must have been making him all the hotter, he had long since discarded his suit jacket, leaving it over the top of his luggage.

His face was bright red and looked to be suffering from the heat, Lana was about to offer him the use of her makeshift fan when with shaking hands he produced a bottle of water which he quickly opened and removed the plastic film over the top. After looking round for a moment and clearly deciding the effort to get up and place the film in the closest bin he instead tucked inside the bottle cap and took a long drink.

“Mind sharing?” The man to Lana’s right questioned holding his hand out expectantly and was wordlessly handed the water with only a nod of approval.

“Cheers” he muttered taking a small swig before handing it to Lana “here lass ya only a wee thing drink up while ya can” His scottish accent was almost as thick as the stench of cigarettes coming off his well tailored clothes.

Lana smiled subtle wiping at the rim before she troo took a drink and then handed it back to the poor man it actually belonged to “Thanks.”

Again the man only nodded holding the little water left closely as he replaced the lid and swirled the liquid round impatiently.

Lana couldn't blame him for such an attitude, after all they had been sitting in an awkward silence for the last twenty minutes now with no sign of relief to their situation.

Pulling at the high collar of her dress Lana longed for the clouds and rain that she had cursed only a week prior, now that she had to wear essentially her sunday best she would have been grateful for even a drop of rain.

The old conductor wiped the sweat off his brow as he leaned heavily against the moss covered wall of the ticket booth.

Lana couldn't help but feel sorry for him, afterwall she was just waiting to be picked up, while the poor man was likely stuck here until late in the evening.

Just looking at him Lana noted that he was a single gentleman living alone likely in the small house just visible across the other side of the tracks.

How she knew this?

Well lets just say Lana was very good at noticing things others tended to miss out of ignorance or lack of interest. Either way she only needed to note the faded stain on his lapel and the dried mud on the hem of his trousers to come to her conclusion.

“Don't suppose i could trouble you for a drink sonny?” The old man asked smiling at the gentleman with the water.

For a moment the man held the bottle close to his chest like he wanted to savour the last drink for himself, then his eyes seemed to linger on the old man for a few moments before he let out a sigh and handed it over.

What happened next was quite strange for you see the old man died.

One second he was happily drinking the water and the next he was convulsing on the ground with foam coming out of his mouth.

Of course they called the police right away, or well the Scottish man did while Lana attempted to keep the fat man from hyperventilating.

Funny things about calling the police about a sudden and mysterious death, they come much faster than any taxi or friend you have coming to pick you up.

The car pulled up shortly and Detective Coran stepped out and gave the body a quick once over.

“Ah it would appear old Charlie here's dead.”

“Yeah that's kinda why we called you” Lana sighed smiling at the detective. As a child she had quite a few run ins with the police and not all of them good, but over the years she and Coran had developed an odd sort of friendship.

Coran pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and used it to wipe away some of the foma that had formed at the victim's mouth. After giving it a quick sniff he stood up with a sigh “it would appear this poor fellow has been poisoned.”

“Poisoned?” The Scottish man asked in alarm “Fecken hell how'd he manage that?”

“Thats what im here to find out now.. What was it i was about to ask?” Coran asked frowning slightly.

“You were about to ask us if we saw anything suspicious” Lana supplied for him “and we would say that everything seemed perfectly normal right up until he collapsed.”

Coran nodded jotting it all down on his little notebook.

The fat man nodded along with what Lana was saying “it's like she says officer nothing out of the ordinary happened”.

He sounded strange, almost like his voice was being forced and lana had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn't to do with the current trauma.

“Did you see him eat or drink anything? Anything that could have been laced with poison?” Coran asked not seeming to pick up on the oddness of the man.

“Ah nothing that the three of us didn't also have a swig of” The scottish man shrugged “look can't we deal with this in yer office or something? Im roasting out here and this poor git looks like he's about to keel over.”

Coran nodded “yes i'm sure you all want to get away from the body soon as possible, i've already sent for a car to come collect us all shortly.”

“If it's all the same to you Coran i wouldn't mind having a look at the body… to erm see if it jogs any memories that may be of use to your investigation of course.” Lana took the dismissive wave as permission and began to poke at the body.

There wasn't anything particularly interesting about old Charlie, he was just a kindly  man that worked hard and liked to give sweets to the poor evacuees. Who could ever have a motive for wanting to kill him? Had it been suicide and they simply didn't see him take anything… well then if that was the case surely he would still have whatever he used on his person.

Feeling around his pockets Lana was disappointed to only find his house keys, a pocket watch as a few lollipops.

She was about to replace the contents when she noticed something rather odd about the wrapping of one of the sweets.

Usually the plastic is melted and twisted to seal it, but they, though melted, seemed to be pushed straight down almost as if they were resealed.

Curious Lana removed the wrapper and gave it a taste lick.

She recognized the taste almost instantly, enough sleepless nights of nightmares and terrors that lurched in the dark made her quite accustomed with the taste of sleeping pills.

The only question was why on earth is it in the sweets Charlie gave to the children? “Is this gonna take long? I got my wife and kid waiting for me at home.”

And just like that all the pieces slotted into place.

Lana straightened up and walked over to the fat man smiled at him before promptly kicking him between the legs.

He let out a pained yelp followed by a string of curse words in a very thick scottish accent.

“Detective Coran i do believe i have your murdures” She gestured to the two men who looked up at her with such dissbelief you would think she suggested they were unicorn spies.

“That's a very serious allegation miss McLain, i hope you have proof.” Corans mustache frowned.

“Ah but i do.” She bent down and with a flourish held the dropped water bottle in front of coran “behold the poison.”

“Unless your forgetting lassy we all drank out of that.” The scottish man snarled.

“See i thought that too, if we all drank it then there is no way he should have died and we didn't. Then i realised something, the poison was introduced after we all drank.” the men's eyes widened as she carefully peeled the film from the inside of the bottle cap. “Quite clever really, coat the outside of the film in poison then make sure your seen drinking from it, then all you need to do is place it with the outside facing inwards in the bottle cap shake the water about a bit and boom you have a murder weapon.” Lana replaced the lid and handed it to Coran “I'm sure your guys at the lab will find both their fingerprints on that film.”

“Both?” Coran asked taking the bottle in surprise.

“Of course, the two of them planned it after all. At first it seems like the two of you have nothing in common, even both being scottish doesnt really link you with more than a home land. But then i started thinking about the fact that i have no idea who either of you are. No one comes to this village and everyone knows everyone but not you too. How would you even know about this place? That's when it hit me, your both married with children, children that were evacuated here during the war.”

The fat man began to cry while the other just stared her down.

“But why would they want to kill nice old Charlie here?” Coran asked scratching his head.

Lanas smile dropped as she handed over the lollipop “because Charlie wasn't so nice… he gave out sweets laced with sleeping pills to the evacuees, kids that no one really wanted or had time for, im sure youll find evidence of all sorts of awful things when you search his house.” her gaze shifted to the men “he hurt your kids didn't he? I understand why you did it but… why not just tell the police and have him arrested?”

“We tried to” the fat man sobbed.

“Shut up Mark” the other man hissed elbowing him in the ribs but still he continued.

“My boy was only nine but he knew it was wrong and he marched over to the station soon as he could to tell someone, they laughed in his face and told him that he shouldn't make up such stories.” Marks voice grew steadily quieter “he didn't tell anyone again until he came home… i only found out because i found the letters he was sending to another boy that the bastard hurt… Bens boy”

“My son… he was 12 when it happened… god it would have been his birthday today if… if he had... “ Ben choked on his words.

“The police were useless once so we had to make sure he paid for what he did.” Mark whispered.

Lana kneeled down in front of them “im so sorry… but murder even when justified is still murder… Coran will have to take you to the station and its likely you will be hanged for this.”

Suddenly Ben surged forwards and grabbed Lana by the throat and produced a small knife from his pocket.

Coran had his army issued gun out in an instant.

“No, stop!” Corna yelled as the knife dug into Lanas neck drawing a thin line of blood.

“No one was supposed to know! I was supposed to be going home to ma family tonight but you ruined it!”

His body holding her tight, his breath on her neck and the familiar sensation of pain was all too much for her “While i do have sympathy for you and i believe all monsters like Charlie should be whipped off the face of the Earth” in one fluid motion she elbowed him in the gut and swept her leg under his knocking him to the floor and the knife of of his grasp. “No one gets to touch me like that but Hannah.”

Ben tried to get up but Coran pointed his gun at him “don't even try it son.”

He visibly deflated as he lay on the ground watching the sky “it was supposed to be the perfect kill… but you had to ruin it.”

Lana ignored him in favour of greeting the cars that pulled up, one belonging to the very woman she had missed more than life itself.

Hannah came barreling towards her picking her up in a hug and sobbing “They said someone died! Oh Lana i was so scared something had happened to you!”

Lana chuckled hugging her best friend back “Dont worry im fine… im fine now i'm home.”

[clown-thoughts]

Dear, you know who:

It’s been a long time since I wrote out my thoughts about you, but it’s not been long since you’ve been on my mind. I hope that if you ever see this, you read the whole thing. I know it’s insanely long, and you hate me, so I won’t hold my breath. But I think it might be good for you if you do. I’ve thought about you every single day. I tried to distance myself from you by ignoring this new blog of yours for a long time, but I’ve been watching it for a few months now.  I’ve wanted to say something for a long time, but I wasn’t sure how to say it or even what to say. But these past few nights have been even harder than normal and I feel like now I just have to get everything off my chest that I’ve been holding in for all this time. I’m leaving it here, rather than messaging it to you directly, because it’s more about me saying what I’ve needed to say for almost 2 years now, rather than trying to directly confront or talk to you. That said, I will try to make sure you at least have a chance to find this, so you can read this and maybe understand me better, who knows. Maybe it will at least be a good distraction from the new drama in your life. Where to begin? I have so much to say. I’m sure that you’re smart enough to know who I am by now, and if not you will by the end of this.  We are not on speaking terms. The last I heard from you, you hated my fucking guts. And I certainly understand, to a degree. But you also said a bunch of shit about me that I think you must know was not true. I’ve since wondered if you said that just to make yourself look better and justify your own shitty treatment of me.  But that isn’t really what this is about. I want to preface everything, by saying that if you do ever find this and read it, none of this is meant to hurt you, it is meant to give MYSELF closure. But I will be speaking my honest thoughts in detail, and they will probably be kinda harsh at parts. I know that telling you this probably just falls on deaf ears, last I heard, you thought I was some lying, manipulative bastard who used you or some dumb shit. Well I can honestly say that you may think what you want, but everything I’m going to say is the 100% honest truth, as I have known and experienced it this past year and a half or so. I’m sure you won’t listen to it or read it if you ever do find it, and that’s why I’m not sending it directly. But you did always say you wanted me to tell you the truth. So here it is, better late than never I guess. The reason I decided to type this out now is two-fold; 1) Seeing you write about what you’re going through, I saw you describe a lot of the same feelings that I felt, (and in some cases, still feel) and it made me think, that maybe hearing the perspective of someone who was, (or is) in a similar situation would help you process it yourself, as well as understand me better. And, 2) A few days ago, on my birthday, I had a stroke in a movie theater and almost died. And right before I lost consciousness, I found myself thinking of you, in what I thought would be my last thoughts. When I woke up, I knew I needed to say my true feelings about you, because it would be my biggest regret to die without you knowing. The truth is, when we first got together, I still had some very strong, unresolved feelings for someone else I was close to. As time went on, she and I got flirtier, and it was definitely wrong of me, and I regret it immensely. Still, we never did anything physical until you and I split up. You and I were fighting a lot, and I’m not sure if you recall, but you were the one who pushed me and TOLD ME I should dump you. So I did. And I have never made a worse decision than that one. I shouldn’t have listened to you, I should have fought harder for you. But I didn’t, because I was an idiot. But at the time, I thought it was for the best. You were unhappy, and I wasn’t good enough for you. I hated that I was hurting you. And I felt guilty for having feelings for someone else at the same time. So when we split up, I tried not to think of you and I pursued this other girl I cared for. I knew going in, that she was a bad person. She is an extremely manipulative and mentally ill person. She lies for sport it seems like sometimes. She lied about me to her family, lied about her family to me. And she lied about me to you. I warned you, way back when we were together, that’s exactly what she’d do. I don’t know if you still have a relationship with her, but I hope for your sake, it’s nothing deeper than surface level. But again, as I said, I knew this going in, and I still couldn’t help but care for her. I thought I could “fix” her, cure the monster inside her. But I couldn’t. Her heart is pitch black. And when I accepted this... I still stuck by her, because I felt like I deserved it. I was an awful person. I lied about and hid my feelings for her from you. You were so sweet to me and I felt like I was such a letdown compared to you, like I couldn’t give you all the love and kindness you deserved. And because of that, I thought I deserved her; someone who treated me as poorly as I treated you. But when it came to the physical stuff with her, I couldn’t make myself go all the way. I tried to get myself into it by going through the motions, but it felt empty. I couldn’t have sex with her cause she wasn’t you. I tried so hard to push you out of my mind and I couldn’t. I stopped making an effort with her, and after a while she told me to fuck off. Truthfully, I didn’t feel a twinge of sadness to lose her, because at that point, I realized that even after knowing her for 10 years, those feelings weren’t as strong as the feelings I had for you, and whatever romantic feelings I still had for her died that day. When I saw how sad you were, all I could think of was how much I wanted to cheer you up and make you happy. I know it was selfish. And it was even more selfish to lie about me and her, to hide all of that from you. The truth is, I knew you couldn’t handle it, and I chose to selfishly try to forget and pretend it never happened. Now, I don’t know, you seem more grounded, I feel like you might understand better now that you’ve experienced similar things. You did leave me for someone else, after all.  But I regret it so much. I regret fucking up so badly, I regret lying about it. But in the end, it ultimately made me a better person. After that, I never flirted with or looked at another girl again for the entire time we were together. I never wanted anyone else. But you did, eventually, and you left. I was devastated and heartbroken. I made that other blog to vent and talk with you back then.  At the same time, a friend of yours came to me and tried to comfort me. She told me all these things about you, like that you had been cheating on me with the guy you left me for and he had been buying you gifts and shit while we were together. Looking back now, I don’t know if that’s what really happened, or if she was just trying to make me hate you for some ulterior motive. You 2 certainly aren’t friends anymore.  She and I got close. She was very pretty and kind, but what I really liked about her, when it all came down to it, was how much she was like you. Maybe too much like you, cause she cheated on her boyfriend with me, then ditched him for me, then ditched me for another guy who she thought would cause “less drama” at the time. Then the ex boyfriend killed himself because of this and she cheated on the new guy with me too. I felt pretty shitty, but I didn’t know what to do. She was there for me when I had no one. I was there for her when she needed a distraction from her grief I guess. But eventually, she felt better and ditched me again, for good, and I was all alone. So I did what I always do when I’m alone; I reached out to shitty people from my past. I did this the first time we split up too, if you recall, with a certain pink haired girl with a drug problem. But this time I reached out to the same psycho bitch who I used to have feelings for. In my desperation to not be alone, I made the mistake of giving that sociopath ammo. So the next day, she had twisted it into some sort of “proof” of my wrongdoings and told you all sorts of lies about me. It troubled me that you would believe her and form this hate alliance thing so easily, especially since I WARNED you about her doing that EXACT thing back when we were together. But I also had to look myself in the mirror and realize that I was just as dumb for reaching out to her and expecting anything else anyway. Plus I had broken your trust, so it was understandable that you wouldn’t believe me. And you were looking for reasons to hate me anyway, so you wouldn’t feel guilty. That was the last time I ever heard from you. You said so many awful things about me. I don’t know if you truly believed what you said about me, or if you just said them because you were mad at the time. But the main thing that hurt me was that you thought all my feelings were fake. That I never really loved you, that I was using you, all this bullshit that I was sure you knew wasn’t true. I couldn’t reply to you back then, because I knew you wouldn’t listen to or believe me. I doubt you will now either. But I need to say them, if not for you, then at least for myself. My life after that was the worst it has ever been. I had multiple mental breakdowns at work and had to be sent home. I started drinking heavily. I attempted suicide for the first time in my life. I missed more work and my grades started slipping. I tried to move on and find someone else. I tried to have what I had with you with lots of other people. But the hole in my heart is shaped like you,and no one else can fill it. I’ve since given up on ever finding someone I can love like I love you. I don’t even try anymore, because all I know how to do is compare other people to you. They all fall short. Eventually, I got kicked out of school because my grades got so shitty. That meant I lost my financial aid, so I couldn’t afford to live there anymore. I lost my home and my job too. My cats ran away a few days before I had to move out, and I couldn’t find them in time, so I lost them as well. I had them for so many years, and in those final months, they’re the only ones who were there for me. I miss them so much.  On the day I packed up to move out, I found your old key to my house in my yard. I don’t know how long it was there, if you left it while I was there or when I was gone at work, I’m not sure. I remember it had some rust on it. I think I overthought it, but I spent a lot of time wondering about it, and wondering about you. I wondered if you ever remembered anything positive about me. I wondered if you had any happy memories of us. I still do. But I try very hard not to think of them, because those happy memories are the most painful now. I moved back in with my family after all that. Had nowhere else to go. I didn’t have a room or even a bed, I slept on a couch that was way too small for me and woke up every day with chronic back pain. For 6 months. I remember thinking back then, that I hated you. I hated you for hurting me so badly, I hated you for breaking me. I blamed you for all my misery and misfortune.But underneath all that, I really just hated myself. I hated myself for fucking up so bad. I hated myself for not being able to give you everything you deserve. I hated that I wasn’t good enough for you. I went a full year without checking on you. I thought maybe that would make me stop thinking of you. But every other night, I’d see you in my dreams. This didn’t start then, it started soon after we stopped talking. And it still continues til this day. Just last night, I dreamed about you, and I knew I’d need to write this shit all out before I could finally sleep again.  I have all sorts of dreams about you. I have dreams where I’ve forgotten that you aren’t in my life anymore, and things are how they used to be. I have other dreams where we reconnect. Where you tell me all the new things happening in your life, and I tell you about mine.  Waking up from those ones hurts worse for some reason. If you remember much about me, you probably remember that I always tried to be a rational person. Someone who didn’t believe in magic or mysticism. But the truth is, I always had superstitions, especially about dreams. I know it’s stupid, but I felt like we had a psychic link or something in our dreams. I sometimes wondered if you were calling for me, but I know that was just wishful thinking.  I know it’s impossible, but I sometimes wonder if we share the same dreams. If the you in my dreams is really you.  These dreams feel so different than normal dreams. They feel real, like another reality. Sometimes they feel more real than my true reality, and I’m not able to tell what’s real and what’s a dream. I wake up from these dreams in a cold sweat and a sinking feeling in my chest. My heart beats so hard I can actually see movement under my ribs. It feels like something is draining the life out of me whenever I wake up from these dreams. I think you probably know what this feeling is now. You feel it too right? I know I’m not the one in your dreams though, and I’m sorry. I wish I was. I know that it would make a big difference for you to hear something like this from them, and I wish I had the power to make you happy like that, but I don’t. My mental health has improved a lot, believe it or not. I’ve been in therapy and I’m on medication. I don’t drink anymore, (though I guess I didn’t when you knew me either) I no longer associate with diet-Nazi douchebags. I’m much more involved politically. I’m not as nihilistic as I was when you knew me, I care about the world and I want to try to help protect it. By all accounts, I should be happier. I’ve improved my life, I’m not lonely. But I still feel empty without you in my life. I was never an angel. I know that. I’m sure I’m still not. I was controlling, I had such a bad temper. I said so many awful things to you in the heat of the moment that I didn’t mean. I have so many regrets and I’d do literally anything to go back and change it all. I know you aren’t an angel either. You are flawed, just as I am. I do not put you on a pedestal. But I do not believe those flaws define you. I love you for all that you are, flaws and all. I spent so long directing my anger at you. I thought I wanted you to hurt, the way I had been hurting. But seeing you now, so sad and broken, feeling so many of the things I felt and still feel, all I wanted was to hug you and tell you everything would be okay. Despite everything, all the ways you hurt me, I love you and I hate seeing you in pain. I would give anything to make it all better, I’m sorry I can’t. I wish I had to power to heal your broken heart. I wish you didn’t hate me so much, because I want to be there for you as a friend. I don’t want you to feel alone or unloved ever. I miss being able to talk to you about your hobbies. I wish we could talk about the new season of My Hero Academia, or Nier Automata, which I was so happy to hear you liked as much as I did. Sometimes I check your blog and I see things you post that make me smile and laugh. It reminds me of how we used to stay up late at night laughing at stock images and inside jokes about bikes, and I miss laughing with you like that so badly. I know you will probably never forgive me. I don’t forgive me for fucking up as bad as I did. But for what it’s worth, I forgive you, for any pain you caused me. I started typing this at 4am because I couldn’t sleep. It is now 4:10pm. I have not slept or eaten in that span of time and my mind is a complete blur. I don’t know if anything I say is making sense, and I’m sorry.  I know I probably spent all this time for nothing and this is all just gonna fall on deaf ears. I know you hate me, I know you don’t trust me. But I need to say this now because I could die any day and I don’t want to die without you knowing how I really felt. I don’t expect you to ever forgive me. I don’t expect or want for you to come crawling back. I don’t expect you to even believe me, as badly as I want you to. I don’t even expect you to read all of this. I bet if I told you all this to you in person, you’d roll your eyes and laugh in my fucking face.  But if you take anything from this at all, let it be this; I meant it every time I told you I loved you. I meant it every time I told you you were the most beautiful girl in the world and the only one I want. And I am so, so sorry for ever hurting you. I really do love you from the very bottom of my heart. I did then, and I still do now. I’m sorry I did such a shitty job of showing it. And I know you don’t love me back anymore, and that you don’t dream of me, or stay awake late at night thinking of me like I do of you. But I will always love you. You were my whole world. I want you to know that. I want you to know it wasn’t a lie or a trick. I want you to know it isn’t me trying to make you feel bad for me. I just want you to know that I meant every word of it. No matter how much happens, and how much time passes, you will always hold the most important place in my heart. I’m so sorry I couldn’t do a better job of showing you how much I loved you back when I had a chance. And I really truly hope that someday, you find someone who treats you as well as you deserve, as well as I wish I treated you. Please know that I will never stop loving you or caring for you. I hope one day, we can meet again. Maybe in the next life. Until then, I’ll just have to wait until I see you again in my next dream.

[smuttyfairy]

Buttercream :1 (M)

1. | 2. | 3. Genre: Smut/Angst/Fluff Summary: (Previously posted under @suganeedsanap) When you fell in love with Kim Taehyung, it was as sweet as cake and bitter as beer. He made your heart swell, but others disapproved. Those days are over, but memories still linger. Maybe this bachelorette party will help ease your mind. Besides, You’ll be Ms. Jimin Park. But why aren’t you happy? Warnings: Alcohol Use Word count: 4,024 Written by: Smutty Jaefairy

A/N: This is a story I’m moving from my main blog to here. I’m having a hard time finding worth in my work so this is an exercise of me looking at my past work and appreciating my writing. I hope you guys enjoy this story. This is one of my babies. 

"Have you ever believed in love?"  

His warm honey brown hair clung to his forehead as you two ran underneath a large building. The rain fell heavily, scattering the ground like large pebbles. He was taking off his coat and wrapping it around your head, a wide smile on his face. His teeth were white, and his breath smelled of something sweet and mouthwash.

“Have you??” He asked, making sure you were dry. His large hands shook the droplets on your hair away. He shook the side of your dress, taking precautions to be very careful. The cover you two had wasn’t much, if you moved a little too much to the right, you’d get drenched. He knew how much you hated getting soaked. It was charming how much he was trying to make sure you averted from it.

You gazed at Taehyung and shook your head no. At that point in your life you never had time for guys or the possibility of something romantic. This day was your first date. He laughed softly and placed his hand on your head.

“ When I look at you Y/n, I feel like what I think love’s supposed to feel like.” Your face gave a confused expression. How could he say something like that so easily? His smile became warmer and for a moment, you could see the image of a man who fell too deep. You always treated Tae as a child, because honestly he acted like one. He would laugh when there was silence, cry when there was no need and just had no direction. But he was pulled to you, and your magnetic pull brought out something different in him. His dark eyes met yours and clinged to your gaze. He hesitated, giving in a deep sigh. With one last look, a look of earnest, leaned forward. On that sunday afternoon, in the pouring rain, he gave you your first kiss.

-

It would be weird to have guys at your bachelorette party, sure. When you told your small group of girlfriends that a couple of your boys were coming over their first question was “Are they cute?”.You shook a finger before laughing along with them.

Namjoon, Yoongi, and Hoseok were coming over to celebrate your last days as an eligible young lady. You were getting married to your boyfriend of three years, Park Jimin. It was to be a moderate sized wedding. Just close friends, family, and a few business acquaintances. It was perfect. Your friends were all so very happy for you. You were dating a successful choreographer,  and you yourself was in line to become the news editor at a rising entertainment magazine. When people talked about you or saw you two, it was perfect. Every time someone said that you two were perfect, you had this internal feeling of chewing on a razor. Jimin wasn’t a terrible person, in fact he was the best boyfriend anyone could have. You were just bugged by the idea of being a perfect couple.

You sat in the living room, the faint glow from the party lights overhead. Your girlfriends were at the door, ushering Namjoon and Yoongi into the house. Namjoon was a friend of yours from university.You both were in the journalism program and had similar tastes. At that time, you were working at a local convenience store when you weren’t at school. Namjoon came in often late night and would chat it up with you about classes and homework. He introduced you to some of his friends from around the neighborhood and before you knew it, you became close with him and his group of colorful buddies. Yoongi went to the same university as you two, but he was in the music program. Hoseok and Jin worked like you, Hoseok going to an art school in the town over. Jin worked on acting from home and took care of his family.

Yoongi gave you a wide smile and a lazy wave. “Congratulations, Y/n!”

“Thank you!” You were trying to get up from the couch, but one of your girlfriends sat you back down, putting a regular cup in your hand.

“What’s in here?” You asked, the room being too dim to see the cup clearly.

“Minae unni made this bowl of what she calls jungle juice. They made it when she was in America for university.” Your friend, Choi, gave you a tipsy smile and handed a cup to Yoongi. He looked at the cup, shrugged, and gave it a swig. He coughed for a moment, asking if there was alcohol in it.

“Yeah, what are you? A lightweight?” She quipped, eyeing him up and down.

He laughed and poked her nose. “ Hey, I’m older than you. Show some respect, beautiful." he said playfully making Choi blushed, hurrying to the other side of the house, slightly flustered. Yoongi was really popular with your friends, so was Namjoon. Minae already had him in a corner, asking him how he was. His pale blonde hair was slicked back and from the look of the smirk on his face, you could tell he was trying to spit some serious game.

You slipped back into the couch and sipped the sweet drink, Yoongi following suit. “How’s everything going on your side?” You asked, watching him take another drink bracing himself.

“Ah, It’s alright. Jimin is so excited about the wedding.” You smiled for a moment, your mouth retracting into a frown.

“I’m guessing you’re not feeling the same?” He said, his mouth going towards the cup again.

“No, no I am. “ you smiled again. For some reason, you couldn’t keep a smile tonight. The wedding so was so close, you couldn’t be getting cold feet. He looked at you seriously for a moment and sat up, turning towards you.

“ Hey, I need to talk to you about something.”  “You looked at him, his expression serious.

“Okay…” you put your cup down and gave him your undivided attention.

“Namjoon was supposed to tell you as soon as he got here, but seeing as Minae has his attention.. I guess I’ll tell you.” You gave him a concerned look, your stomach tying in knots. You felt a sense of hope in your chest, you knew you shouldn’t expect much, but there was something that sat in the back burner of your heart for three long years. He looked away for a moment, then Yoongi’s intense dark eyes met yours. “Taehyung called Namjoon and Hoseok yesterday night.”

-

Namjoon had also introduced you to Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung. Jimin you knew somewhat already. He worked at the same convenience store as you, but you never properly had a talk with him. One night Namjoon came in with two younger guys. One had short black hair and was roughhousing with the other. His hair a little longer, just ending at his thick eyebrows. His smile seemed to never end, and he seemed a little...odd. It wasn’t that he was ugly. You thought he was attractive, as well as the other boy, but he was off. As soon as they came in, He walked over to the chip aisle and started stacking random things on each other. Namjoon nodded to you, and you nodded back.

“Hey Joonie. Are you babysitting?”  

“Something like that. Jungkook needs some help with a paper so we came to get some food before studying. Taehyung came along because he was bored..he’s gonna be more trouble than help.“

The young male with the black hair walked to the counter with a few sodas, a bag of cookies and a bowl of instant noodles.

“Hello, are you Y/n?” You nodded and smiled softly.

“That is me, are you Jungkook?” He nodded and bowed, you bowing back.

“Jimin oppa and Namjoon oppa have mentioned you before. They were right. You’re very pretty” He said smiling.

You smiled back, grabbing Namjoon’s shirt. “When did this happen?”

“Hey, we weren’t making fun of you, we were being nice.” While you were bickering with Namjoon, Taehyung had somehow had all the chips on the floor and was rearranging them.

At one point you were taking your shoe off and then you saw the aisle. “Oy, what are you doing? Namjoon what is your friend doing? I’m gonna get fired!”

“ Taehyung, put those back. “ Namjoon said with a long groan.

You walked over, he was hurrying to put everything back. You were about to sass him, then you realized what he was doing. He recovered them and somehow made them look more presentable than before. He turned to you, his face blank and his mouth slightly open.

“Thank you for the help. I was actually suppose to do that tonight before I got off. You saved me some time.” You smiled, kind of relieved your least favorite job was already done. He stood there as if he was frozen. Jungkook walked behind him, shoving him a little bit.

“Hyung, you look like a fool.”  He was broken out of his trance and nodded his head.

“Ah, Kim Taehyung. “

“F/n L/n. Thank you for the help.“ You bowed and raised an eyebrow. You recalled your boss saying there was an opening for the overnight shift and you thought it’d be a good idea to suggest it to him.

“Do you have a job? “ He shook his head wildly and you walked to the counter, looking for an application.

“We have an opening. If you’re not busy with school that is.” Jungkook pushed him towards the counter.

“He’s not doing anything, noona. He’ll do it. “ You rang up Jungkook and Namjoon, Taehyung filling the application out, fumbling a few times with the pen. As he finished and gave it to you, you gave him an apprehensive smile.

“I’ll tell the boss about you, okay?” Namjoon gave you a wave as he left the store, Jungkook following with Taehyung last, giving you a goofy grin and walking backwards out of the store and leaving with the other two. You put the application away, happy to have found someone better at doing the detailed jobs, but you didn’t expect him to impact your life. - You instantly grabbed Yoongi’s cup and downed whatever he had left.

“I’m sorry, what?” you felt your words come out in a harsh whisper.

“Taehyung called Namjoon and Hoseok. Hoseok was much more caring than Namjoon. Namjoon scolded him and told him not to come back.”

You frowned and grabbed your cup, drinking it down. Your body felt warm and prickly.

Yoongi’s watched your expression as it changed a few times. “I knew it. “ he said quietly.

You turned to him , eyes wide. “You don’t love Jimin, You’re still in love with Taehyung..” You shook your head, a grimace on your face.

“What? No!” Yoongi sighed and sat back, shrugging.

“If you say so..oh!” He got up and walked over to Choi who had another cup along with hers. “Can I have that cup?” He asked and she nodded.

He took it from her and smiled before going back to you. “Anyways, he says he’s coming back, and if he does what are you gonna do? “  

Your face was focused on the ground and you tried not to think about Taehyung. That was a long time ago, and you didn’t want to think about him. You didn’t want to think about his dorky smile or his peculiar way of handling conversation. You didn’t want to hear his warm deep voice or think about how his hair felt when your hands were tangled in it.

“Y/n?” You looked up and plastered a fake smile on your face. “ He’s too late. Jimin and I will get married. “

Yoongi gave you a face. You couldn’t tell if he was unimpressed or his resting bitch face had kicked in. “You’re not fooling me. I can read you better than Namjoon.” His voice was slightly slurred and his eyes were a little glossy. He was getting drunk.

“You’re drunk, Yoongi.” He shook his blonde hair and paused before laughing out loud. You laughed back, the alcohol in your system kicking in. Namjoon walked over to you two, placing a piece of paper in his pocket.

“ Already getting numbers, can’t even say hi. “ You say, playfully mad.

“ I was going to say hi, but your friends wouldn’t let me alone!”

“You didn’t want to, Namjoon.”  

“That’s not true, I was just being polite. “

You and Yoongi both let out a long “Mhmmmm.” before you got up and gave him a hug, laughing softly.

“Hey, can I talk to - “

“Oh, Yoongi already told me. “ before he brought it up again, you tried your best to advert the conversation. “Where’s Hobi? I don’t want to start til Hoseok is here!”

“He should have been here before us.” Yoongi said, checking his phone.

There was a loud knock, prompting you to run to the door and answer it. Hoseok was at the door, a large delivery truck behind him. “Y/n! Congratulations!” He gave you a huge hug and spun you around.

Your stomach turned for a moment, sloshing alcohol around in the depths. “Hobi! Put me down.” You pouted and he listened.

“Sorry, sorry! Ah, there’s a delivery here for you. They said they need you to sign it before they bring it in. “ You walk out to the driver in the sunset and signed off on the package, telling them to bring it in the living room.  Minae walked out and squealed. “Everyone! It’s here!”  Your face scrunched up at her. You were hoping it was the one thing you asked her not to do. “I said no strippers, Minae..” “Ah, hush. We know he isn’t as impressive as Jimin oppa. Bring it in!” She handled the package while you went back inside, grabbing a bottle of gin from the table of snacks and drinks.

You trudged back to the couch sitting in between Namjoon and Yoongi. Your girlfriends were giving everyone party hats and party horns. You thought it was kind of silly how they were acting so childish, but you gave up a long time ago. Once you told Minae and Choi they could plan it, it left your hands and landed in their capable ones.

Hoseok was helping the delivery man bring in the package. It was a large box and smelled of buttercream and vanilla. You sighed and took a swig of the bottle.

“This feels more like a birthday party.” You said softly.

“It is a bit juvenile.” Namjoon grinned, a drink now in his hand.

You spaced out and words stumbled out of your mouth before you could even process them. “Taehyung would love this…”

Yoongi and Namjoon looked at you, Yoongi leaning close to you. “ Namjoon has his number.”  

Namjoon cut the air and shook his head. “No. He left all of a sudden giving us a half ass goodbye and he left  without a word to Y/n! You think he deserves to come back as if nothing happened?”

Yoongi took a sip and shook his head. “ He doesn’t , but if she doesn’t love Jimin, why is she marrying him?”

“Oi, Y/n! You don’t want to marry Jimin? What is he saying about you not loving him?”

“Yoongi’s drunk!” You said, pouting. “Yoongi stop exposing me with your lies. “

“I’ll expose more if I keep drinking this..” He lips connected to his drink for the umpteenth time that night.

“If things keep going this way, Yoongi will be your stripper.” Namjoon muttered watching them set up.

A large, cake was displayed. It was pale yellow with white frosting along the edges.

“That wouldn’t be a problem.” Yoongi said while licking his lips. You smacked his arm and he set off in a fit of giggles. Even though he told you the worst news you could have heard at this time, you were glad Yoongi was there to keep you from freaking out. Him, Hoseok and Namjoon were like brothers to you. Namjoon was the one who cared and gave wisdom, but constantly ready to bicker with you about anything and everything.  Yoongi was the one who knew how you were feeling and how to make it better.

As they finished, Hoseok slipped in between you and Namjoon, Yoongi reaching over to give him his drink.

“Hobi, drink this.” He muttered.

“Huh?” He looked at it and drank it down. Hoseok was always calling you to make sure you were eating after long hours at the office, bringing you food for lunch or just there when you needed to vent about something stupid at work.

He gave the cup back to Yoongi and winced. “Too strong for me. Ah, Y/n! You excited about the wedding?” You nodded, feeling the alcohol numb any memories of Taehyung or any feelings of doubt you had.

“Yes! I’m ready to be Mrs. Park Jimin.” you smiled, gin laced in your words.

“You mean Mrs. Kim.” Yoongi was getting another cup from Choi, his eyes slightly glossed over.

“Yoongi, you need to stop!”  You gave him a glare, in which he shrugged and took a sip from his cup.

“Once you stop lying to yourself.”

Hoseok shushed you both, and took your hand. He had a sad smile, but you could see the reassurance in his eyes. “Maybe once you’re sober we can talk about everything. You too, Yoongi.”  

Yoongi sighed, snuggling into the couch. Minae walked up to the cake, knocking the stand it stood on.

“Hey, you ready in there?”  Three knocks answered and she grinned wide. As she stood up, she ran to the speaker system and started searching through her massive collection of music. Choi brought in the other girls, them huddling around the couch. Hoseok got comfortable next to you and Namjoon got up, going over to Minae and helping her pick some music.

“Ah, Hobi this is gonna be embarrassing.” You cover your face and sigh deeply. He rubbed your back and smiled.

“Ah, I’m sure you’ll be able to laugh at this fool, right, Yoongi?” Yoongi's drunk giggle came from the other side of the couch and Hoseok waved him off.

Your mind was hazy at this point and Taehyung’s voice was in your head. It was like a faint whisper, but you knew you didn’t want to be there. You wanted to leave the house, and find him. You wanted to ask him why he left you, where he went, why was he back.

You held your head, the room spinning for a moment. Hoseok glanced at you, a worried look washing over his face. “Y/n? Are you alright? “

Before you could answer, the sound system blasted. ”Falling in love “ by 2ne1 started playing and Minae dimmed the lights more. The girls were screaming and cheering. “We got a special gift for the lucky girl tonight~!” Minae said dancing to the music. You looked at the cake, a grimace on your face. The tiers shook slightly, wobbling some. You sat back, knowing a stripper coming out of a cake was going to be messy. Your chin rested in your hand and you sighed. As the cake deteriorated and a body came out of it, you saw jeans and a naked chest. The room was cheering, and you looked up. It was dark and it was hard to see their face, but as they danced in front of you, the smile looked familiar. It was wide and it seemed to make your heart stutter. They grinded in front of you, and you stood up, getting a better look at their face.

You swore you could have died in that moment.

A loud scream came from your mouth, making Namjoon turn off the music and Minae turn the lights up. Buttercream frosting and small pieces of cake stuck to his honey brown hair. It littered his skin, but his smile stayed intact. Kim Taehyung was standing in front of you, stripping at your bachelorette party. You were stone, the party silent. The startling sound of Yoongi blowing a party horn brought everything back to earth. Yoongi laughed, finished his drink and clapped his pale hands. He seemed to be the only one amused.

“Hobi, you put him up to this didn’t you?” He asked, his hoarse laugh filling the room.

“What?!? No!” Hoseok shook his head, disbelief in what he saw. Namjoon walked over to Taehyung, not waiting to scold him.

“What are you doing?!?” The look of disbelief on Namjoon's face made Taehyung laugh.

“Ah! I called Minae to get in touch with Y/n and she said they were having a surprise party for her! She told me her surprise gift and I wanted to help!”  Minae waved, a guilty look on her face.

“Whoops! I thought it’d be okay!”  You stood there, taking everything about him into your memory.

It was Tae. Your Tae, he was back and Namjoon was yelling at him. It was like nothing changed. The alcohol impaired everything for that few minutes. While everyone was trying to understand what was going on, time slowed down. You remembered everything Taehyung and you went through. Your relationship, how your parents didn’t approve. You went through so many hurdles and he was back. Then Jimin’s face flashed in your eyes. Your chest started to pound thinking of the night he proposed. The tears in his eyes, how his smile was so loving. You were Jimin’s now. Tae left you, he didn’t tell you anything. He just left. You couldn’t say anything to him. All of this was so sudden. You felt hot tears spill from your eyes, and Tae stopped arguing with Namjoon and looked into your eyes.

He held your face, his thumbs wiping away every tear. “What’s wrong, Jagi? Are you not happy to see me?”

“T..” you couldn’t say his name, it hurt to think he was back, and he couldn’t even come in a decent way. But you knew Taehyung. He wasn’t as mature as the rest of you, but he always had his heart in the right place.

“I..” you covered your mouth, and suddenly you felt your stomach gripe from the inside out. You ran out of the room and up the stairs, towards Minae’s spare bedroom. You dashed for the bathroom, Taehyung right behind you.

As you saw the toilet your stomach lurched and you fell to your knees, throwing up. You were a mess. You were crying, puking and Taehyun kneeled behind you, holding your hair. He kissed the back of your head and comforted you.

“Why did you come back? You didn’t even say goodbye..”

“What? What are you talking about?” He said, ripping off a strip of toilet paper and helping you clean your face.

“Do you need water? Should I get you medicine?” You heard the music downstairs start up again and you held your knees, groaning. You stomach was pulsing and you just wanted it to stop.

“I’ll drink water from the tap..I just want this night to be over.  “  He looked down for a moment before looking up, his eyes gazing into yours.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye properly.. I had to leave. I thought you would understand..” Your heart felt like a sharp piece of glass rubbed against it. He smoothed the hair out of your face and kissed your forehead. “Jagiya…”

You cried more, your face feeling grimy by this point. Asking to be left alone he stood up and closed the bathroom door. You got up, walked to the shower and turned it on full blast. The hot, steamy water killed off all the bacteria and salt from your face. You began to cry harder in the bathroom and sat in the tub. You heard your phone’s ringtone, muffled by your clothes. A pulsing, throbbing pain invaded one side of your head, making you cry harder. It had been so long since you cried like this. Your body rejected every feeling you had at that moment. You couldn’t help but feel like things would get worse.

[buckybarnesstar]

Clint’s Daughter Part 3

Note: you guys wanted part 3, so here it is! I’m SO sorry if it sucks! feedback is welcome! .c

Part 1 Part 2 

So maybe avoiding Bucky after your little activity wasn’t the best idea. You could’ve marched right to where your dad was and told him you like Bucky and let him deal with it his own way. But no, you were too chicken and told Bucky you needed time to think. After sending a quick text to Natasha asking if anyone heard anything, you were relieved to discover nobody had.

Thankful for that, you spent the next few hours contemplating how you were supposed to tell your dad about Bucky. You weren’t official yet, Bucky saying something like “I want your dad to approve before I ask you out”. You thought it was sweet, but something made you think Bucky didn’t feel good enough.

You cared a lot about Bucky. His past wasn’t sunshine and rainbows, he had a lot of baggage to carry, regardless of any of that, you knew he had a heart of gold. Sure, most of the time you were making out or kissing, but you enjoyed the little talks you’d have about him or yourself. He was sweet, caring, he made you laugh, he was a good person underneath everything.

You just hoped your dad would see that.

You sighed frustratingly as you read over the group text you just got from the team as you sat on your bed.

Tony: Party tonight at 7! Wear your fanciest dresses and suits! Sam: What’s the occasion? Tony: I bought a new suit. I want people to see it. Steve: Tony, you’re unbelievable. Just take a self photo or whatever they call it. Sam: That’s called a selfie, Steven. Nat: Accept the fact that Tony has an ego the size of Mt. Everest and start getting ready. Wanda: I can’t believe it’s in two hours, Tony! Tony: You have plenty of time to get ready, Maximoff. Wanda: Two hours is not enough time for me! Sam: Women. Wanda: Really? You took an hour to fix your hair and you barely have any. Steve: Y/N, what color dress are you wearing? I want to match with you! You: Um, I have a royal blue dress Nat bought me…

*Bucky’s face bubble pops up*

You smiled to yourself, remembering all the times Steve tried to match your sundresses with his shirts when you were younger. You sighed and felt your phone vibrate again, thankful it wasn’t on sound or else you’d have a headache.

Sam: Maybe I want to match with Y/N. Tony: Just get ready!! Vision: Vibrate Wanda: Vis, you have to do that yourself.

You tossed your phone on your bed after turning the screen off and groaned. You were thankful you showered earlier, so that gave you more time to get ready. You walked over to your closet and reached for the bag that covered the dress you were going to wear. Natasha was right when she said Tony could plan a party for no reason, so you had to be prepared.

You put the dress on your bed, still covered in it’s bag to keep dust off of it. You heard a knock on your door and you shuffled over, your shoulders slumping as you opened it. Nat and Wanda were standing there, dresses and hair products in their hands. You moved aside to let them in and you shut your door.

They put everything down on your bed and Nat turned to you. “Okay, why do you look like you found out your childhood crush died?” Nat questioned as she crossed her arms. Wanda looked at you with furrowed eyebrows. You groaned and walked over to your bed, sitting beside the dresses. “Because! I don’t know what to do.” You said, flailing your arms.

Wanda looked confused and Nat sighed. “Just tell your dad the truth!” Nat said as if it were the easiest thing to do. “What? Tell my dad I fell for the guy who I had sex with and usually have my tongue in his mouth?” You asked sarcastically, making Wanda gasp. “No way! Everyone thought you two were just hooking up!” Wanda said, her eyes wide.

You sighed and shook your head. “No, it’s more than that. But you know my dad, he’d freak out. My ex didn’t get off the hook easily after what happened.” You said, grimacing at the memories. Your dad hated your ex and has since altered the image of any man being deserving of his daughter. Wanda scoffed lightly. “Tony, too.” She said, Nat nodding in agreement.

Your eyebrows creased with confusion. “Why Tony?” You asked, leaning back on your hands. Nat snorted and shook her head. “Okay, have you forgotten a very valuable detail between the Winter Soldier and Tony Stark?” Nat asked you, her eyebrows raised. You suddenly remembered what happened before and you sighed heavily.

So now you not only had to worry about your dad possibly breaking Bucky’s neck, but also Tony. Again. You fell onto your back on your bed and stared up at the ceiling. “Kill me.” You muttered, hearing the two girls laugh. “No way, this is too juicy!” Nat said, making you glare at her, her lips holding a smirk. “Kidding, but seriously, you’ve gotta tell your dad soon.” She said, pulling you upward by your wrists.

An hour and a half went by and you were ready for the party. You could faintly hear the music from your room and you sighed, putting in your dangling diamond earrings Wanda let you borrow. You let your hands travel down your hips, straightening out your dress. “You look so hot.” Nat said, coming up beside you, her teeth showing from her smile.

Wanda hummed in agreement, standing by your other side. You smiled and rolled your eyes as you shook your head lightly. “You guys look amazing.” You said, turning to look at them. Nat was wearing a white dress with a low cut front and Wanda was wearing a black sequin dress that had slits on both sides of her legs. Yours only had one slit, with a low front and back.

Nat and Wanda linked their arms with yours and you all walked out of your room, your heels clicking against the floor as you made your way to the elevator. You nervously shifted in your spot, watching the floor numbers change every few seconds. You tried to calm your thoughts and nervousness, but you couldn’t.

Nat gave your shoulders a squeeze as the elevator opened and you sighed, giving her a tight lipped smile. You had a feeling something was going to happen tonight and you weren’t sure if it was going to be good or bad.

You and the girls walked down the hallway and stopped outside the doors, seeing a huge crowd of dancing people. “Wow.” You said, looking inside at the detailed party. There was huge chandelier hanging beautifully, little rainbows of colors dancing along it, fairy lights strung all over the edging of the walls, tables along the sides with white table cloths, and a huge food table.

Nat scoffed and walked in ahead of you and Wanda. “I don’t see how he does it.” Nat said to which you hummed in agreement. Your eyes searched the place, absentmindedly looking for Bucky. You finally spotted him near the bar with all of the men except Tony. Surely he was in the crowd of people, showing off his new suit. Typical, none of them would dance on their own.

Bucky looked absolutely breathtaking in his suit. It was fitting in all the right places and his hair was slicked back, making his jaw and cheekbones look all the more defined. His eyes were shining a beautiful blue, the lights around him making him glow.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt Wanda pulling you along. You all stopped at the bar and all eyes lifted and fell on you. Not Natasha or Wanda, no. You. You gulped and shifted under their wide eyes and mouths. Your dad smiled and stepped towards you, pulling you in for a hug. “You look beautiful!” He said, hugging you rather tightly.

You hugged Clint back and as he pulled away, you glanced at Bucky. “Thanks, Dad.” You said with a shy smile. Sam whispered something to Steve, making him chuckle. Bucky looked at the two with anger plastered all over his face. 

Clint tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and placed a kiss on your head. “I’m gonna go find Tony. Don’t get into any trouble, okay?” Clint said before walking off, drink in hand. You sighed softly. If only you knew, you thought. 

Nat slipped away, gathering the attention of a man she clearly knew, as her hands were already all over him. You watched as Wanda pulled Vision to the dance floor, leaving you to stand here near the other three men. Sam smirked at you, taking a sip from his cup. “So, Y/N,” Sam said, gaining your attention, “That dress is amazing.” He said, his eyes falling down your body.

You tried to ignore his stare but you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks. You saw Bucky shoot Sam a glare and he gripped his glass in his flesh hand. Steve scoffed and stood from his chair, circling around your body. “No, amazing doesn’t cut it. This dress is FANTASTIC!” Steve said with a chuckle. He stopped beside you and held his tie out for you to see. “We match.” Steve said, smiling down at you.

You couldn’t help but laugh at Steve. “Okay, if I remember correctly, didn’t you always try to do that when I was younger?” You asked, looking up at Steve. He snorted and nodded his head. “I, uh, yeah I remember that.” Steve said, his eyes landing on your cleavage before he met your eyes. You laughed along with Steve and forgot for a split second that Bucky was there. You cleared your throat and Steve’s cheeks burned red.

Bucky stood from his chair and shoved between you and Steve, walking off somewhere else. You watched after him and you were about to follow him, but Steve gripped your arm gently. “So, did you want to dance?” Steve asked, his tone hopeful. You nodded gently, he is your friend after all. Sam smirked after you. “I call next!” Sam yelled, making you laugh.

You danced with Sam and Steve together now, seeing Bucky’s figure sitting in his previous seat at the bar. Your dad and Tony were sitting on either side of Bucky, chatting along about nonsense. You twirled around with Steve, letting him pull you into him. “You really do look beautiful tonight, Y/N.” Steve said, twirling you again so you spun into a waiting Sam.

You smiled and danced along with Sam, his hand in yours and the other resting on your lower back. “Steve’s right, I can’t believe you used to be this shy little girl!” Sam said, laughing along with you. You enjoyed dancing with Sam and Steve, but the lingering stares were making you a tad bit uncomfortable. You were about to tell them you needed a break until Sam spun you into Steve.

Steve held you close and looked into your eyes, his hands coming up to brush along your cheek. Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion as he started to lean in, until you heard what sounded like a woman yelling from near the bar and glass breaking. You pulled away from Steve and looked to the scene, seeing Bucky breathing heavily and the mirror behind the bar shattered from him throwing his beer bottle into it.

You, Sam, and Steve rushed over to the bar, the crowd dancing though their eyes were on the Avengers before them. Clint was yelling at Bucky once you got there and you saw Tony holding his chest, his eyes wide. “What the hell is going on?” You asked, immediately resting your hand on Bucky’s arm. He was breathing heavily and his jaw was clenched.

Clint shook his head and glared at Bucky. “Yes, please do, tell us why you broke Tony’s mirror.” Your dad replied sarcastically, sounding much like you. The girls and Vision now joined and you saw Bucky sigh loudly. “It’s nothing.” Bucky grumbled, gently pulling his arm away from you. You frowned and you heart sank a tad, but you knew he needed some space.

This was clearly because Steve just tried to kiss you. You didn’t notice he and Sam had been flirting with you until now. Tony scoffed and shook his head. “Nothing!? You just broke a thousand dollars worth of a mirror for NOTHING?” Tony yelled, slapping the back of his hand against Bucky’s shoulder. He looked at Tony. “Yup.” He said, making Tony all the more angrier.

Tony clenched his fists and raised one, but you stepped in between him and Bucky. “Stop it! Stop, just stop.” You shouted, holding your hands up in front of you. 

A gasp fell from Steve’s mouth. “Oh no.” He said softly, making you and everyone else look at him. “What?” Clint snapped, “Sad you didn’t get your kiss from MY daughter?” Clint asked viciously. You rolled your eyes at how ridiculous your dad sounded. 

“Bucky.” Steve said, his voice soft. “I didn’t know.” Steve looked Bucky guiltily and you knew he had figured it out. The space fell silent and you felt Bucky’s hand rest on your lower back. “Didn’t know what?” Sam and Tony asked simultaneously. Your face started to heat up and you cleared your throat. It’s now or never.

You turned to your dad and he met your eyes. “Dad, I have something to tell you.” You said quietly, wincing when his eyes darted between you and Bucky. Clint furrowed his eyebrows and you could see the gears shifting in his eyes as he pieced it together. “No way!” Sam yelled, a light laugh falling from his mouth.

Clint’s lips formed a tight line and he stared at you, shaking his head. “Are you kidding me?” He asked, his tone serious. You shook your head gently, feeling Bucky’s hand grasp onto the material of your dress. You could tell he was nervous and scared. Tony gasped now and took a step back. “WHAT!” He yelled, causing the crowd to stop their dancing.

Tony apologized and told them to continue on. He turned to you and shook his head. “Y/N, my own worst enemy?” Tony asked, making your mouth fall open. “Tony, this isn’t like that!“ You yelled, anger bubbling in your veins. How dare he think you liked Bucky to spite him? Tony scoffed and shook his head again, turning and leaving the room.

Clint started to walk away and you called after him. "Dad! Please, let me explain!” You said, seeing him wave his hand. Your shoulders slumped a tad and you turned to Bucky. “Bucky, I’m sorry.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around his waist. He held you close and sighed. “Just talk to them.” Bucky said quietly. You nodded and pulled him along, going to find Tony and Clint.

The others followed behind you and you could hear Sam and Steve whispering to each other in the elevator. “I can’t believe you tried to kiss her!” “I got caught in the moment, Sam! I didn’t know they were more than make out sessions!” “Dude, even I’m not that bold.” “Oh shut up, you know you wanted-” “Guys!” You shouted, turning to them as the elevator came to a stop.

Bucky’s arm was held protectively around your waist, trying his best not to punch the two Avengers. You both knew he’d regret it. You sighed, all of you walking into the common room. Clint and Tony were sitting on the couch, unreadable looks on their faces. You took a deep breath as they looked up at you. “I want you two to listen to me, please.” You said with a steady voice.

Clint stood to his feet, his hands on his waist. “Dad, I know what happened last time, but Bucky has been so sweet to me. I like him a lot. And it means more to me that you approve.” You said, looking at your dad. 

He sighed and looked at Bucky, raising his eyebrows. Bucky cleared his throat, his hand holding you tighter. “Clint, I won’t hurt her. I’m not like her ex. I promise, I’d never do anything to cause her any pain.” Bucky said, his voice soft.

Bucky looked at Tony. “And I’m sorry for breaking your overpriced mirror and scaring you. Though to be fair, your scream scared me, too. But anyways, I got jealous.” Bucky muttered the last part and you blushed, a smile forming on your lips. 

Clint snorted and you snapped your head towards him. He was covering his mouth and Tony was glaring at Clint. “Wait, TONY is the one that screamed?” Wanda asked, her eyes wide.

The room all looked at Tony and everyone started laughing, making him hide his face in his hands. “Oh my God!” Sam coughed from laughing so hard. Clint walked over to you and Bucky. “Clearly she really likes you, James. I can’t make her not date you.” Clint said, shaking Bucky’s metal hand. You smiled and bit your lip.

Tony gasped and stood beside the others. “Wait, what!?” Tony yelled, shaking his head. Clint sighed and turned to Tony. “He’ll pay for the mirror.” Clint said before turning back to you and Bucky. You smiled and hugged your dad tightly. “Thank you.” You whispered, feeling his smile against your shoulder.

You were sitting in the kitchen, sipping on a cup of water. It’s been a few hours since the party had ended and you said goodnight to everyone. You heard footsteps approaching the kitchen, seeing Bucky appear in his sweats and nothing else. You smirked and set your cup down on the counter. Bucky walked over to you and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

You held Bucky’s waist, smiling up at him. “Hey there, lover.” You said softly. Bucky chuckled and he bent down to pick you up, sitting you on the counter. “Doll, how can you still be so beautiful?” Bucky asked, his hands rising up underneath your old worn out band t-shirt. You let your eyes close as you felt his lips press to your pulse point.

A soft moan fell from your parted lips and Bucky smirked. You let your legs wrap loosely around his waist, your hands holding onto his biceps. “Bucky, someone could walk in.” You whispered, feeling his thumbs sneak under the band of your shorts. He chuckled deeply, nipping at your skin. “Let them, I don’t care.” Bucky said lowly, your hands gripping onto his arms as his hands moved to your thighs.

You suddenly heard someone clear their throat and Bucky pulled away from you, gasping. You saw your dad standing there and he held up a hand before you or Bucky could say anything. “Don’t. Just let me get my juice in peace.” Clint said, avoiding eye contact. 

He got his juice and stopped with his back turned to you and Bucky. “Remember, I’ll shoot your other arm with one of my arrows, James.” Clint said before walking out of the kitchen. You let go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding and Bucky turned to face you, his face red. 

“I told you!” You whispered as your cheeks flushed. Bucky let out a breathy laugh, resting his forehead against yours. “I love you.” Bucky said, holding your cheeks. Your heart fluttered. “I love you too.” You said before kissing Bucky, letting him carry you to your room.

You were full of joy and content, finally having the happiness you never knew you’d find in the arms of Bucky Barnes.

Note: I HOPE THIS DOESN’T SUCK, OMFG. YAY! THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE! .c

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