#none of this would have happened. This is ridiculously simple; HOW is it so difficult to understand?

[wonder-worker]

Didn't edward iv leave his brother Richard in lots of financial difficulties though?

No, he did not. I really don't know where this myth has originated from other than the persistent need to victimize Richard.

Firstly, Edward IV didn't leave Richard anything. Whatever he left was for his own son and heir, Richard's nephew, who Richard usurped.

Secondly, Edward IV was literally one of the rare few medieval kings of England to die solvent. He had managed to break the vicious cycle of plummeting debt and inefficiency that had plagued pretty much every single ruler till then. It doesn't really matter how much money the crown actually had left at the time of his death*, because the fact that he died solvent meant that whoever his successor was (in this case, Richard III), they were going to begin their reign with a financial advantage that no English monarch had enjoyed for the past 200 years. I don't know Richard's fans have convinced themselves that he inherited financial difficulties instead.

As stated by David Horspool, Richard's own historian:

"(Richard III) would try to differentiate himself from his brother, whose ‘unlawful invencions and inordinate covetise, ayenst the lawe of this roialme’ he would later denounce in an Act of Parliament. In fact Edward had managed to set royal finances back on an even keel after the disastrous waste and inefficiency of Henry VI (and all former kings post Henry II), Richard was, initially, the beneficiary of the better practise instituted by Edward IV.”

(The contemporary Croyland Chronicle mentions a main reason that Richard was better prepared to defend his kingship was "because of the treasure which he had in hand—since what King Edward had left behind had not yet all been consumed". They may have exaggerated the money Edward left behind, but either way it shows how contemporaries were aware of Richard's comparative advantages. It's highly ironic that what should have been used to uphold Edward's son was now being used to uphold his son's usurper instead).

Thirdly, Edward IV had presided over a highly effective and innovative combination of financial policies. These included the elevation/increase of royal chamber finance, the enlargement of the crown lands (Steven Gunn calls it "the most extensive royal demesne in medieval English History"), and an increase in royal feudal rights towards the end of his reign, among others**. Most importantly of all, he was actually successful, meaning that whoever followed him would have the huge benefit of having his established and well-attested precedent to continue from. Indeed, Charles Ross has noted how "Henry VII had the great advantage of being able to build upon the foundations laid by his father-in-law". Richard III, who seized the throne just a few months later, would have had the same advantages, as Horspool also notes.

Richard III, in fact, seems to have (temporarily) reversed some of his brother's well-established policies which could be used to gain money. Eg: he abolished benevolences; and he repealed Edward IV's newly established wardships and marriages act in the Duchy of Lancaster "notwithstanding that he conceiveth the said act to be to his great profit … having more affection to the common weal of this his realm and of his subjects than to his own singular profit". If you deliberately reverse policies with immense potential for revenue-raising, I don't know how you can then go on to complain that your brother left you nothing.

In conclusion: no, Edward IV did not leave Richard in financial difficulties. If anything, he left Richard with financial advantages that no king had had in over 200 years.

(Also, just to clarify: the Woodvilles did not steal the treasury. We know for a fact that Elizabeth Woodville did not have any money in sanctuary. The story of a theft was only mentioned by Mancini and either originated in gossip or, more likely, from Ricardian propaganda aiming to vilify them in 1483 by positioning them against the crown.)

*We know for a fact that Edward IV died solvent, but from what I understand, the exact money he had is impossible to know because of his missing chamber records. Contemporaries like Croyland did believe he had substantial money and treasure; on the other hand, Rosemary Horrox has analyzed how his cash reserves were probably relatively low due to international conflicts the previous two years. Either way, like I said, the main thing is that he was the first king in over 200 years to die solvent, which was massively advantageous to his successor. **While his policies were clearly innovative, they weren't all completely original. However, their combination certainly was; they were modified to actually work better; and they were initiated from the beginning of his first/second reign and widespread across the royal lands (rather than in smaller pockets), meaning that they were clear systematic policies. They were also, like I mentioned, actually successful - meaning that they would be the proven precedent that his successors would turn to.

[jinchuls]

𝒴𝑒𝓈, 𝒴𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝐻𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈 ₊˚✩

ᡣ𐭩 various knight!character x fem!reader

includes 𝜗𝜚 iwaizumi hajime, kuroo tetsurou (nsfw), ojiro aran (nsfw - marking), takanobu aone

notes 𝜗𝜚 repost from previous blog, mdni

𝑰𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒛𝒖𝒎𝒊 𝑯𝒂𝒋𝒊𝒎𝒆 was the most responsible man assigned to you. No matter your request, big or small, he would execute them with perfection and a quiet “Yes, Your Highness.” He’d bow his head, stand close and make sure every step you take is safe. For the longest time, he seemed to have no interest in anything other than your father’s expectations of him. Not in you, or his fellow knights–he’d perform as he should but no more. You hated it. You hated the lack of attention, the simple responses and the silence as he stood at your side and, most of all, you hated how the small acts, the brief moments your eyes would meet and how those three words would make your heart skip. As you ignore the burning in your chest whenever he is near, you’re unaware of the effect you have on him. You’re oblivious to the shake in his voice when he does quietly respond to you and you don’t notice the gleam in his eyes when yours meet his–you look away before you can notice the red tinge painting his cheeks–and you had no idea the silence was caused by his pure inability to string sentences together in your presence. He wanted to, he wanted to hear your voice every second of the day or be the cause of your laugh. It’s your outburst one night that changes the course of your relationship, that starts something that would result in Hajime’s certain dismissal, with tears welling in your eyes and the frustration clear on your face you confess every emotion weighing down on your heart hoping, praying, he felt the same. He can hear his own heartbeat as it quickens, the pounding in his chest so loud he fears you can hear it from your position across the room; his face reddens again–you have to hide your smile to spare him any more embarrassment–and he begins to stutter. If he had found it difficult to speak around you, it worsened in that moment, but it was clear, no matter what the future would hold for your heart, your feelings were mirrored by your knight.

𝑲𝒖𝒓𝒐𝒐 𝑻𝒆𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒐𝒖 had mastered the art of trickery. In your family's eyes, he was the perfect candidate to keep you safe. He was that man, amongst all of his peers he was one of the strongest and most capable men that your parents could trust–he’d perfected their vision of him which only presented him every opportunity to show you the less professional sides of him. He was the man he allowed everyone to see but he was also the man able to rile you up, in all the right ways, with a lingering stare and a mischievous glint in his eyes or the touch of his fingers against the nape of your neck as he struggled with the clasp of your necklace. Your attraction to him was unheard of; you’d be ridiculed by anyone that found out. A member of the royal family and their knight? It was an impossible match Supposedly. They only thought that way because they didn’t know what happened when the door was closed; when the knight’s barrack was empty or any other moment the two of you found yourselves alone. There would be no more talk of the incompatibility of royals with anyone of lower status if they knew the way you’d find yourself bouncing on his cock as night settles around the palace. Or how you’d bite your lip to stop the moans from escaping you as he held your waist and the rhythmic movement of his hips had your legs shaking as each precise thrust pushed against every nerve sending you one step closer to bliss. None of it mattered, they could whisper and they could plan your betrothal: they would never know how comforted you felt wrapped in his arms or how protected you knew you were simply walking through the halls of your own home. No one could ruin what had been created and no one would ever know. Outside of your shared secret, all that was seen was your gentle orders directed at him, your voice soft but stern–as it was with every individual under your command–and his return the usual, the formal response everyone was expected to utter but his with a sly, subtle flirtation that left your legs weaks beneath you: “Yes, Your Highness.”

𝑶𝒋𝒊𝒓𝒐 𝑨𝒓𝒂𝒏 was perfect. Cheerful, strong, intelligent and, most important of all, able to cope with the incessant issues caused by the Miya twins (the knights assigned to your siblings. Days seemed to pass quicker when he was there; whenever time appeared to slow, he would be there to keep you company. There was no such thing as a dull moment when he was at your side. From the moment you met him, he was far too easy to get along with. Solid lines engraved in your mind were fading; the lessons taught to you as a young noble were forgotten and the very nature of the expected relationship between knight and noble was lost. You had never been happier. “Aran.” You’d whisper, fingernails digging into the skin of his arm; your head fell back against the pillows as he kissed your neck softly. “I know,” His voice would be no louder than yours, “Not where they can be seen.” With a kiss to your collarbone, he’d look between your bodies at the littering of fading marks he’d left the last time he’d had you in his arms. Across your chest, your thighs, anywhere where they would be hidden from eyes you did not trust. As always, he’d make a comment about how you looked beautiful with the evidence of him. And, as usual, it doesn’t take long before he’s darkening existing marks, kissing your chest. Biting your skin softly to hear those sweet sounds he adored, and leave behind reminders of the night for you to find the next morning. With more scattered across your skin, he’d sit up to look down at his masterpiece as you reached up for him, missing the warmth of his body closer to you. Your quiet mewls were heaven to hear. A smile sat on his face as he leaned down, chest against you and his lips grazing yours. He’d still, hips pressed to yours forcing whimpers from your throat–a silent cry for more–you’re too lost in ecstasy to give it up now. “Please.” You whisper, eyes meeting his. He grins, hands softly holding your waist as he slowly pulls his hips away again. “Yes, Your Highness.”

𝑻𝒂𝒌𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒃𝒖 𝑨𝒐𝒏𝒆 was quiet. From the day he was assigned as your personal guard, he’d barely uttered a word to you or to anyone. He’d simply nod his head to accept any order you sent his way and, miraculously, he’d found a way to relay any message from you wordlessly. You envied those able to understand the behaviour you’d never seen before and you found yourself wanting to be among those he seemed close to. You would watch his fellow knights approach him; you’d watch how Futakuchi would speak to the man and reiterate his silence into words during group conversations whilst you were left in confusion. Day in and day out, you’d find yourself watching him and the little interactions he would have with those around him, occasionally catching his perfectly gentle nature with small animals that roamed the palace gardens. You were certain he could feel your eyes on him but he never seemed to care; you knew words had got to him that you had been asking those he spoke to often to tell you about him but he never stopped your interest. And, as time passed, you found your curiosity had grown into something much more. You’d look away quickly when he would turn his head in your direction, eyes suddenly focused on the tea in front of you. Aone was quiet. Almost too quiet. But the red of his cheeks, that you caught for just a few seconds, was loud. You clear your throat, fearing your voice could break as you try once more to encourage a conversation with him. “The weather is lovely today,” you grip the teacup tightly, closing your eyes and wincing in the embarrassment, that wasn’t what you’d wanted to say. “Would you,” you quieten, looking anywhere other than where he is stood. “Would accompany me on a walk?” He waits a moment and you glance up, expecting to see a small nod, as always. He meets your eye, a soft smile on his face as he does so. “Yes, Your Highness.”

[techtalksfics]

Headcanons: First Kiss

Authors Note: this is for the anon who sent in this very sweet prompt. I've tried to keep it fluffy but, you know, Crosshair is always gonna linger closer to smut than fluff. All of these will be small headcanon ideas, with small snippets of prose & dialogue. Hope you enjoy!

Tech

How long does it take for it to happen?

Well, this is Tech we are talking about. It takes him a ridiculously long time to even realise you are interested in him. It takes him even longer to realise that you like him like that. When he realises it, he would consult his brothers about it at the first opportune moment.

You'd always tried to show Tech that you truly cared for him. You'd be overly attentive when he visited the medical wing, even if it was just for something as simple as a check-up. The first time you'd treated him, you'd been careful with his injuries, taking your time, talking with him, giggling at his silly comments. His brother's had noticed your gentle touches and twittery giggles at his comments long before Tech did. They just left it alone. Tech would figure it out eventually, right?

Well eventually was a long time coming. It was easily over thirty rotations of your attentive behaviour, of you trying to get to know him, to show him you shared interests. Of you trying to get him interested in you. What you didn't realise is that he had always been interested in you on some level. He just didn't realise what level that was. One evening, the clones were all in there shared quarters, relaxing after another successful mission. Tech had arrived later than the others as he came to say hello to you first.

When he arrived at their quarters, he simply sat for a moment, pondering over his desire to speak to you first. Suddenly he queried why you acted differently with him than you did with the others. Hunter sighed, stopping his expert ministrations with his knife in hand, looked his brother in the eye and tells him, "because she likes you." When Tech frowned deeper, somehow more confused. Surely she liked all you? "She has a crush on you, Tech." Tech stopped fiddling with his comm device to look up at Hunter for a moment. "Perhaps I should discuss this with her," he decided as he stood, speedily exiting the room.

Crosshair, had been lying on his bed, listening to the whole thing. He lolled his head towards Hunter, twirling the toothpick in his mouth from the right to the left side and and muttered, "that poor girl is going to need the Force on her side now."

Who Instigates the first kiss?

Tech. This is definitely going to be Tech. Most girls would probably fear starting something with him unless they were 100% sure he felt the same. As he isn't particularly great with affection, that may prove difficult. But our sweet boy also doesn't have a great filter for his words and sometimes his actions. So I have no doubt that he would be the first to make a move, clumsy thought it may be.

Tech had sought you out after Hunter's revelation or confirmation. He found at your station and the lab was eerily quiet. The perfect opportunity, he had realised. So he simply squeezed your arm gently. to get his attention. You smiled and turned the moment you realised it was him and he smashed his lips to yours with reckless abandon. It was sloppy and fast and not what you thought it would be. But your heart soared regardless.

When he moved away, he explained, "Hunter said that you may have a crush on me. He is rarely wrong on such matters. Perhaps this time he was?" As he searched your face for signs of disgust. There were none. He seemed a little perplexed by the flush on your cheeks. He decided it best that perhaps he leave that moment.

Gentle or Hot Heavy first kiss?

Our sweet boy is always going to be gentle, cautious. Savouring it, even. He had perhaps been a little overzealous to reach out and kiss you like that, it was felt oddly forced. Even for him. But when you finally decide to reciprocate, the main is definitely going to want to savour the experience slowly.

As he went to leave, you quickly grabbed him by the hand and pulled him back. “I didn’t think you even noticed me. I’m sorry, it took my mind a minute. You sort of appeared out of nowhere,” as he opened his mouth to protest, you placed your fingers over his lips, moving closer to him, “how about we try that one again?” You leaned in, holding your hands in the folds of his armour so that he couldn’t retreat. When he felt softness of your lips, the warmth of cheeks and body against his, Tech finally closes his eyes and simply enjoys the sensation. All too quickly for his liking, you pull away. He adjusts his goggles and asks, “would you be partial to doing that again?” That earns a little giggle from you. Of course you wanted to do that again. And again. And again.

Crosshair

How long does it take for it to happen?

On sheer stubbornness of two people trying not to admit to their feelings (or as @littlebluebatbratt and I like to call it, playing a game of emotional chicken™), it's going to take some time. I feel like Crosshair would pair well with someone who could withstand the game as well as he could. So this could go on for a long time. I like to think the right girl would make him drop his pride and give in to her and his feelings.

“You should just cave,” he whispered, as he came up behind you. His breath was hot on your neck. You jumped out of your skin at the sudden contact. His approach had been so silent. You couldn’t help but lean back, flush into his body. He was simply so warm. Your mouth hung open at the contact, a huff of wind escaping you as you rest your head back against his shoulder. Then in a sudden realisation of what you were doing, you lurched away from him. As you began to walk away, you turned to face him, walking backwards and say, “if you want it, you know exactly how to come and get it” A smirk plastered on your lips as you sauntered away from him.

Who Instigates the first kiss?

Honestly, this would depend on the woman. As I mentioned above, I think, for Crosshair to truly fall for someone, she would also have to be a stubborn, pain in the ass with just a tad too much physical confidence. They would try desperately to get him to cave first, as much as they wanted to themselves. Eventually, the man would not be able to stop himself. One day, the endless flirting would turn into something more.

“You’re maddening, you know that?” He would say with a groan, he muffled behind his hand, as you softly rubbed your leg up and down his as you sat opposite each other in the mess hall.

“I know,” you said, popping a small bite of food into your mouth, with a smug grin. Suddenly, you would remove your leg and he immediately misses the contact. You move to leave the hall, knowing exactly what you were doing, but you could feel his shadow following you out. Perhaps it was finally time?

Pulling you into the nearest alcove, by your elbow with just enough force, he would simply stare into your eyes, desperate for you. You could see it. You could feel it. He couldn’t bring himself to say it, but he knew in that moment, as you stared at him with those big innocent eyes, that he had lost. He had fully lost himself in you.

Gentle/Hot Heavy first kiss?

It’s Crosshair. It’s hot and heavy. Of course. Particularly if they’ve been playing this game for a long time. All of this pent-up frustration would be unleashed into one extremely searing, deep, long kiss.

You would wrap your hands around his neck, the moment you realised he’d caved. You’d pull him in as close as you could, onlookers be damned. He’d have your body pinned against the wall, one knee between your thighs holding you in place as he leans in to kiss you. You place two fingers over his lips, looking deep into his eyes.

“I’m gonna need you to say it first,” you said with a smirk. He sighs looking away from you. Deciding it was time, he looked deep into your eyes, his own were hooded with a deep lust.

“Fine,” he grumbled, not breaking eye contact, “you win. I want you. I want you more than I want to win this.” That was all you needed. So, you yanked his head towards you and your lips met in a sudden and heated dance. It was everything you had been waiting for. His tongue quickly delves into your mouth exploring everything he had been imagining for months. His hands would wind their way into your hair, lifting your lips closer to his. His knee pushing further up into you, until you’re almost rutting on him.

Wrecker

How long does it take for it to happen?

Wrecker is extremely vocal and does not necessarily think a lot of things through. That being said, he’s also our super soft gentle giant. He would probably spend more time trying to kiss than actually successfully doing it. I think he’d be one of the fastest to go in for a first kiss with someone, particularly if they paid him lots of attention. Which obviously, all of us would.

“I just wanna kiss ‘em,” Wrecker moaned to his brothers, his head in his hands at the bar, “but every time I get close, I back out.” He all but slammed his head on the bar. “I’m a coward.”

“You’re not a coward, Wrecker,” Hunter said dumbly, placing his hand on his brother’s shoulder, “you’re just worried that she won’t return it. But she will.”

Wrecker lifted his head toward Hunter, “how could you possibly know tha’?” It was almost a whine as Wrecker spoke.

“Because she’s not blind,” Hunter said, holding back a chuckle, “she’s spoken to me about it. She wants to know what’s holding you back.” Wrecker sat upright all of sudden.

“You mean, she knows?” Wrecker felt positively sick with the nerves. “Well, no what am I supposed to do.” This time, Tech was the one to respond as he looked up from the schematics in his hand, “well, you could just try actually kissing her.” Tech’s head immediately dropped back down to continue reading. He made it sound so simple.

Who Instigates the first kiss?

Wrecker wants to. Boy, does he want to. He wants to whisk you into his arms and kiss you so soundly that you never want to leave his side. But he’s just a bundle of nerves and insecurities under all that muscle. Knowing that you know he’s been trying, only made it worse. In the end, it would all be on you.

“Hi Wrecker,” you said, hopping off the counter of the store you worked at, “how are you?” Wrecker scratched at his neck, almost immediately, mumbling out something about being fine.

“Wrecker,” you said as a plea, when you realised that he couldn’t look at you, “you don’t need to be afraid, Wrecker. Whatever it is you want, you can just tell me.” You placed your hand softly on his cheek, encouraging him to look at you. You knew what it was that was bothering him. It bothered you that he thought you'd even consider rejecting him. His eyes finally pierced into yours, fear covering all of his features. “I – uh – I been trying to kiss you for a while now,” Wrecker stumbled over his words as he rushed to get them out, “but – uh – didn’t know if you’d want tha’.”

“Of course, I want that, you silly man.” His eyebrows shot up high as you smiled at him softly. And yet, he still couldn’t do it.

Gentle/Hot Heavy first kiss?

It’s going to be gentle, as gentle as he can make it. You wouldn’t want to push him too far, too fast. Hot and heavy could wait. You just needed to get him over the first hurdle that seemed to be plaguing him so fully. You’d gone from friendly banter, maybe some gentle flirtation and some outright cheesy phrases on his part and regressed back to the awkwardness of when you first met.

You hopped back onto the counter, making yourself more level with him. The store was empty, now was your chance. You reached your hand out for him to take and he did so very willingly, you pulled him in between your legs. Cupping his chin, you forced him to look at your smile. “Wrecker,” you whispered so softly, “I want you to do it.” He seemed to debate things in his mind, as best he could. He bit at his lip, wanting to reach in but he still hesitated.

With a small, barely audible sigh, you placed a hand on his gentle and brought his face into yours. The moment he felt your lips on his, his heart soared, and his arms cradled you naturally. You were much smaller than him, so you became enveloped in him. You kiss became firmer, occasionally pulling your lips away to tilt your head a different way. You found his lips followed you whenever you moved. If you leaned back, he leaned forward. If you tilted one way, he tilted the other and held you tighter. Truthfully, it was perfect.

Echo

How long does it take for it to happen?

I think that post-Skako Minor, Echo’s mind will forever have self-doubt and his duty at the forefront. We see both when he is described as more machine than man, percentage wise. So, I think the build-up to the kiss would simply take a long time because he does let himself believe you’d want to.

“You know you’re wrong about her, right?” Rex said to his brother as they sat together post-mission. Everything had been successful. “She likes you.”

“She doesn’t like me,” Echo retorted, taking a sip of the steaming drink in his hands. He couldn’t help but let his eyes fall across the room towards where you were chatting with Gregor animatedly. Both laughing. He couldn’t help but smile at the idea of you liking him at all. God, he loved the way you laughed. The way you made his brothers feel happy whenever you were around.

“Oh, she definitely does,” Rex spoke with a smirk as he watched his brother falling in love from a distance, "and I think you like her too." Echo's head whipped back around to look at Rex, a crimson blush on his cheeks. He took another sip of his drink.

Who Instigates the first kiss?

I fear that it would have to be you. You are the only one that can convince him that you want him in a romantic way. Sure, Rex could try and convince him. As could any of his clone brothers, but they would never convince him enough for him to dare making a move. There were many, many others you could choose. So why would you choose him? Well, you'd have to convince him that your heart had chosen him long ago.

Rex had casually mentioned to you that Echo was leaving to find the Bad Batch, knowing full well what you would do. Honestly, he was a little fed up with the mutual pining.

“Echo,” you called out as you watched him walk away from Riyo Chuchi, it looks like you were catching him just in time. You knew there was nothing you could do or say to make sure he'd keep out of harms way. You now needed their help to save others. So this was your last chance to pluck up the courage you'd cowered away from for so long,“you weren’t planning on leaving without saying goodbye, were you?”

“I – uh – no, well, yes…perhaps?” Each of the words stumbled from his mouth as if chasing one another, pain masking over his features. You placed your hands on hips at that.

“Well how am I supposed to wish you luck if you keep running away before I have a chance?” You questioned him, allowing a flirtatious grin to creep onto your features. He blushed at that, you had such an effect on him, all from two very simple words. Good luck?

“L-luck?” He repeated back. As you stepped closer to him, he tried to steady himself, tried to remain steadfast and strong in your presence. You reached your hands up to his broad shoulders, running them across the coolness of the armour covering his broad shoulder.

“Yes, and luck that is truly good should be sealed with a kiss,” you said as you watched him through your lashes.

Gentle/Hot Heavy first kiss?

This would definitely be dependent on the circumstances, I’d say it would be a little bit of both. Particularly if it plays out as it does above. Or if it's any sort of goodbye or a hello after a long time. It'll definitely end up hot and heavy if he isn’t certain of his return. If he isn’t certain of your safety. He is going kiss you as if it is both the first and last time, he will ever kiss you.

With your hands on his shoulders, you’d reached up on toes and placed your lips to his softly. Your lips had ghosted over his so gently that he was convinced it had been a dream. And yet, it lasted just long enough for his eyes to flutter closed.

When they reopened, you stood there looking at him doe-eyed, expectantly and with a big grin on your face. With a soft, playful growl, he reached around your waist with one arm and span you around, you giggle all the while. Once he placed you back down, he reconnects his lips with yours with a sense of urgency and fire that shocked you. But you loved it. You loved the way he instantly delves deeper into your mouth. The way he moans into you. The way he kisses you like it was the last chance he would ever have to do so.

Hunter

How long does it take for it to happen?

I feel like the affection would develop quickly. Particularly if it were on Pabu. He feels safe and knows Omega is safe. It’s a community. Everyone is simply getting on with their lives. So, kissing you became one of the forefront thoughts in his mind. When Echo had arrived for support, everything goes a bit awry and his internal timeline for kissing you is made far more urgent.

“She’s something special, Echo,” Hunter said, staring at you with a smile. You were playing around with Wrecker and Omega in the distance. He could hear the melody of your laughter as he leaned into the wall watching you. “If we don’t come back from this, it’s going to hurt her.”

“We don’t have a choice, Hunter,” Echo reminded him, placing a reassuring hand on his brother’s shoulder, “she’ll understand.”

“Will she?” Hunter grumbled, entirely unconvinced. But he knew if he were to die on this mission, then he wanted to know what it was like to kiss you before he went. He had settled on that.

Who Instigates the first kiss?

Hunter. He'd already come close to kissing you more than once but he didn't want to rush it and it’s not that you don’t want but you knew he was withdrawn, stoic and more often than not, very serious. You were patient. You could do this on his timeline. So, when he was ready, he’d kiss you. You were certain of that. He often searched your eyes with a hand on your cheek and each time you prepared yourself for the kiss. But the kiss never came. At least, not until Echo had shown up and they were dragged back into the war they’d fled from.

“Hey,” he whispered as he approached you from behind. You were looking out over the balcony into the night sky, simply lost in thought. You knew he was leaving again.

“Hey yourself,” you murmured quietly, without facing him. You felt his presence at your side, though you could not feel his warmth. There was a safe distance between you. His hip dug into the wall as he simply watched you and waited. Waited until you could bear to look at him. He would wait. After a moment, you simply stated, “you are going again.”

“Yes.”

“I may never see you again.” You affirmed, knuckles whitening from your tight grasp on the wall in front of you. You still couldn’t look him at him.

“Yes.”

“But, if you can come back,” this time you turned to look at him, searching the depths of his eyes, “will you?” He reached his close fist to brush against your cheek softly, letting his hand settled at the hair tucked behind your ear. With a smile, he reached in close and whispered, “yes.” Your lips parted with a prickly shudder down your spine as his free hand traced the curve of your spine.

Gentle/Hot Heavy first kiss?

I think the first time would be gentle but sensuous. He would anticipate your needs and would want the depth of his feelings to be felt as he melded his lips with yours. He wanted to convince you of your future. That there could be a future, even though he could never be certain of that.

As he pulled back from his whisper, he did as he often did and placed his hand firmly on your cheek. You knew he wouldn’t pull away this time. This was the last chance either of you would have until they returned. If they returned.

“Don’t kiss me,” you murmured, “if the only reason is that you aren’t sure you’re going to return to me.” Tears began to prick at your eyes as you looked at him.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he said, raising his other hand, to your other cheek, “because I have to know what kissing you feels like, in case I never return.” He leaned in and brought his lips to yours in a searing kiss, full of longing and passion. You couldn’t help but moan as his strong hands pulled you in as close as he could have you. Your hands wove into his hair, pulling softly at the silky strands. He pulls back, but only to tilt his head from one side to the other before delving in to kiss you again. It seemed to last both an eternity and no more than a fleeting moment.

“If I don’t come back,” he whispered as he pulls away, “just know that you have made me a happy man.” He dropped his forehead to yours, allowing his eyes to close with the affection that coursed between you.

[idanceuntilidie]

I am back and with an idea that has 100% not over used and I am suggesting it because I found it

Yan farmer x business person reader

(optional ->Jason can be the name for the farmer)

(optional -> could be kidnapped)

- 🌑 the moon is finally showing the night sky is pretty it gives me butterflies but why do I still feel… empty inisde? Am I missing something? Or is it someone

As the moon shines, I wonder why I long, I wonder and ask why I hope for answers, but the moon gives me none

Yes I have finally finished this time for hot coco and sleep god its 1 am

Yandere farmer x gn business reader

Warnings; yandere themes, stalking, drugging and kidnapping, suggestive themes at one point

"Oh how crazy you make me."

In very small towns you might notice that how important you are is based on how much land you own. It was a very old custom but it’s not Jason minded.

There was another problem after all. 

He inherited the land after his father and it came along with the debt.

This farm was promised to him, and he loved it with all his heart. Jason worked day and night but the debt kept getting bigger and harder to pay off. He can go so long with scaring off every single person that wants to collect or buy his land. Jason knew who you were, he studied you and your business, maybe watching you from time to time. Taking a few pictures, sneaking into your home. He wanted to know his enemy, of course. 

Jason was a stubborn man, he would never even admit out loud that someone like you made his cheeks flush and heart skip a bit. You wanted to take his home for heaven's sake! He sighed as he watched you from your window, you were getting ready for bed. Face going red as you began to take off. He didn’t stop watching, instead he loosened his pants.

Your job was simple, go in hand letters and talk to Jason Ackworth.

From what you know he was a very scary, stubborn man. You sigh as you listen to yet another employee of yours cry and explain themselves why they couldn’t even get close to his property. This happened every single time you tried to send someone to collect the debt, or do anything. You swear a few of your employees never came back, they must have ran away. Cowards

Time to take things into your own hands.

The ride to the farm was long, but when the buildings and city noise morphed into fields and calm sounds of nature you felt rested.

The land was pretty big, if not for the debt Jason would be a lucky guy if not for the dept. Your family dealt with Ackworth for years, but you were pretty sure you will finish this.

When your great grandpa started his business he lent money to people so they would be able to stabilize themselves and eventually pay it back. Ackworths did everything not to do that, so that’s why you are here.

You finally see the white house and the farm. It looked simple, but boy wasn’t it a jewel.

It looked well taken care of, which meant it could be sold for a lot. You smile as your eyes wander through the farm.

Everything seemed to be in good condition, your eye caught an older man tending to the chickens. 

It looks like you didn’t need to look far for Mister Jason, smiling proudly as you walked towards him. He must have noticed you too because he stopped what he was doing and watched you. When you got closer to him you noticed he is not as old as you thought he was. Jason was actually a good looking young man.

“Mister Ackworth!” you yelled cheerfully, you think he shook when you yelled. “What do you want?” his voice horse, somewhat angry sounding.

“Can we talk?”

“I still have a few years to pay off the debt.” Jason started, his face turned into a disgusted look. He was difficult, but you could work with that so you kept your polite smile. No need to anger the man more, yes? You sipped the coffee Jason made for you, the sweet bitter taste filling your mouth. It had an off taste but it’s probably because it’s organic or something.

“Mister Ackworth, listen, I know your situation is hard but this is getting ridiculous. My men disappear when coming into contact with you and the debt is overdue!” Your vision got blurry, something was wrong. Oh very very wrong. “Are you feelin’ alright?” “Yeah yeah just just-” you slurred, then your vision went black You groaned as you tried to move your hands to rub your face, only to hear a loud noise and realize you have been tied up. Jason chuckled as he crouched in front of you. He had such a happy smile, you thought he wasn’t really capable of that. His face was still a little blurry, and speech a bit slurred.

“Why?”

“I hate you, oh how I hate you with my whole heart. I spend days, weeks, months or maybe even years watching you.” His rough hand grabbed your face, with a very painful grip he forced your glossy eyes to look at him.

“I hate how you make me feel, God, how crazy you make me.”  he laughed.

“We are going to have so much fun.” he drew in closer and kissed you.

[nyerus]

Hi, Nyerus... Long time no see.... 😆😘 Sorry I just got log in to tumblr again. Because of you, I got into TGCF 3 years ago, thanks so much.... 💐

I know maybe this ask have been ask before, but can I ask your top 3 (or top 5) fav quotes from TGCF and why you love them? Thanks if you want to answer....

Welcome back! <3 It means the world to me that I helped you get into TGCF!

My top quotes from TGCF have gotta be (random order):

"Only having met you did I rediscover that it's such a simple thing to be happy." This quote absolutely killed me on the SPOT when I first read it. 😭 Xie Lian realizes how revealing it was for him to say this, but he was completely honest there. He spent centuries alone, in terrible conditions, always secretly hoping that maybe one day he would find someone who would cherish him for who he was, faults and all. He didn't have much happiness in his life, but was grateful for every kindness he encountered. Now with Hua Cheng, Xie Lian is finally able to laugh again, to feel safe, and be truly happy. Such simple, human things that he'd forgotten due to how lonely and difficult his life was.

"To watch with your own eyes your beloved be trampled and ridiculed, yet being unable to do anything. That's the worst suffering in the world." This was so iconic of Hua Cheng, and it comes before we learn the truth of what really happened to him and Xie Lian in the past. It perfectly describes why he is the way he is, and it sent chills down my spine! I think it's quite underrated, as well. Hua Cheng saw Xie Lian harmed and ridiculed so much in the past -- he will not stand for a single instance more!!! ;o;

"You saved me. I've always looked at you. In this world, there are countless people more 'successful' than you, but none of them could have saved me like you did. None of them could have done those things you did -- You have no idea how much courage you gave me, for me to become the me today." This quote is from Hua Cheng in the final amnesia extra. That whole extra was very entertaining and fun, but then it hits you with this and I started sobbing like a baby hahaha! Once again, it perfectly encapsulates why Hua Cheng is so in love with Xie Lian: not just because Xie Lian caught him, but because Xie Lian saved him in so many ways. He was the only person in Hua Cheng's life (after his birth mom died) that showed him true compassion and gentleness. Who believed him, and believed in him. This gave Hua Cheng courage. And then he saw Xie Lian stand against the impossible to try and help others, and continue to do the right thing even when it caused himself harm. Something no one else would do. Of course Hua Cheng fell hopelessly in love.

"Something like saving the world, it really doesn't matter how you do it. But, although brave, it's foolish. [...] Although foolish, it's brave." I love this quote because despite how much he admires and respects Xie Lian, he isn't afraid to give his honest opinion on things as heavy as Xie Lian's very ideals. He doesn't agree with Xie Lian's morality, and doesn't think the common people are worth saving in the same way as Xie Lian does. I feel like sometimes, people get the wrong idea that Hua Cheng is a doormat who just goes along with Xie Lian's ideas -- but that can't be further from the truth. Hua Cheng is quite vocal and straightforward about his own goals/morality/etc. He knows it's different than Xie Lian's, but that's just who he is -- a terrifying Ghost King who will do things his own way. (And Xie Lian really really likes that about him, and wouldn't want him to change!)

"What matters is you, and not the state of you." First said by Xie Lian, and then repeated by Hua Cheng when Xie Lian needed to hear it the most! It's THE iconic, quintessential Hualian quote. So of course it's a fave!

Thank you anon for sending in this ask! I had fun with it!

[adestayskz]

LAS VEGAS || HAN JISUNG

January 2, 2024

Shouts echoed, murmurs of apologies could hardly be heard. A huff of exasperation sounded and a striking fist on a desk rocketed into the room but the young woman heard none of this, for her everything was superfluous. No, what she saw was the ring on her left ring finger. A ring that was simple, that was unwanted, but yet, that had more value than anything in her life.

To know how she got there, we have to go back in time.

December 31, 2023.

Las Vegas. The city of sins. What happens in Las Vegas, stays in Las Vegas.

Alcohol and more alcohol, gambling, casinos and unspoken feelings.

Y/l/n Y/n and Han Jisung.

Two distinct people, two opposite people, one was the sun, the other was the moon.

One was light, the other was shadow.

One was a rapper, the other was a singer.

Two members of Stray Kids.

Two best friends.

Two same souls.

Two soulmates.

But two hearts that beat for each other.

On this New Year's Eve that they decided to spend together, their lives were going to be turned upside down.

Two drunk people, a jewelry store, a wedding dress store, and a costume store.

A chapel, a fake Elvis Presley.

Two « -Yes, I do. »

Laughter, dances, kisses were exchanged, two bodies intertwined.

Two hearts beating in unison.

A difficult awakening, two pairs of eyes wide.

And Y/n and Jisung knew that nothing would be the same again.

January 2, 2024.

Y/l/n Y/n felt someone shake her and when she looked up, she saw the disapproving look of her leader, Christopher Banhg.

« -Don’t you have anything to say, Y/n? »

The young woman shrugged her shoulders.

Chan felt rage rising within him.

« -Nothing? Nothing? Do you have anything to say? Are you kidding me? Damn but Y/n ! You got married in Las Vegas ! Fuck, this is so irresponsible and ridiculous. Fans have taken photos of you, it's all over social medias. What do we tell them? Was it a joke? That you were so drunk you didn't even know what you were doing? No, but I’m hallucinating ! Think Y/n ! You're completely out of your mind. You are completely unconscious. »

The young woman rolled her eyes, she was fed up, fed up of being yelled at. Yes, of course they had done something stupid but deep down, she didn't regret it. She loved Han Jisung. More than anyone. Yes, it wasn't the ideal marriage but she couldn't see herself marrying anyone other than Jisung.

So she got up from her chair and turned around walking towards the door to go out when Christopher grabbed her arm.

« -Are you kidding me here? Are you really going to leave? You really have nothing in your head ! The future of the group is at stake and you… -The young woman cut him off, angry.

-No, I'm not making fun of you, Christopher. Yes I got married with Hanji, yes we were completely drunk, yes we maybe shouldn't have but you know what? I have no regrets, Jisung is my best friend, my soulmate and I am completely madly in love with him so if I had to get married, it would have to be him. So you know what, Chan, fuck you. Leave me alone, I'll find an excuse for the fans. »

And with these words, she left the room. The Stray Kids leader slowly turned towards his friend, frowning. Jisung's eyes were wide, shock clearly visible on his face.

« -She just said she's in love with me, right ? »

Bang Chan nodded, still stunned and without really understanding, Han Jisung rushed towards the door and ran after his best friend. He found her outside getting some fresh air.

He approached her slowly, his heart beating wildly.

« -Baby ? »

Hearing her favorite melody, the only woman in the group turned to her best friend, a slight smile on her lips and her cheeks red with embarrassment.

« -Is it true what you said ? Are...Are you really in love with me ? »

Y/l/n Y/n just nodded.

« -Don’t lie to me, Y/n. Please don't lie to me. My heart won't take it. My soul will not bear it. »

Still without saying a word, the young woman moved closer to Jisung, placing her hands on the latter's cheeks.

« -How could I ever lie to you, Hanji ? »

Han Jisung's lips trembled, his hands instinctively coming to rest on Y/n's waist.

And in a flash, their lips intertwined, beginning a passionate, intense dance. Their hearts beat in unison, creating a sweet ballad, a sweet melody that only their souls could hear.

The young girl's hands came to caress the back of Jisung's neck and hair and the latter's hands came to rest on the neck and cheek of the woman he loved to death.

Their lips moved together, like a symphony, like a sweet waltz.

Their souls united to form a single soul, as if they had waited for this moment for centuries.

Out of breath, the two lovers separated and Jisung couldn't help but let out a laugh, a frank laugh, a joyful laugh.

« -God Y/n, I’m so madly in love with you, I fucking love you. I love you madly, I love you so much, I love you completely, I love you lovingly, I love you infinitely, I madly love you .

-I love you too, Hanji. »

The two looked each other straight in the eye.

« -My wife.

-My husband. »

Laughter, kisses were exchanged, two bodies intertwined once again.

Two rings that they kept on their left ring fingers.

Two souls that were now one.

Two hearts that became one.

Confessed feelings.

And a lifelong memory on a piece of paper.

Mr Han Jisung

Mrs Han Y/n.

And what happens in Las Vegas, ultimately does not stay in Las Vegas.

@melliexx 🤍

[dawnslight-aegis]

8. attrition (extra credit, explicit)

“I do not doubt your willpower, my lady,” Aymeric said with a grin, placing his glass of brandy back on the table, “merely your patience. You are accustomed to felling gods, ending wars, changing the fate of nations in an instant. Playing the long game, winning wars of attrition, delaying gratification – such are my strengths, not yours.“

They were comfortably ensconced on Aymeric's sofa after dinner, Kaede reclining against the arm with her legs thrown across his lap and glass of red wine close at hand, but at his words she sat up and leaned forward, scowling. The notion that she, of all people, lacked for self-control was patently ridiculous. She did not even remember how they had even gotten on the topic – doubtless some idle remark made in jest – but his comment had stung her pride, and she would not let it stand.

“I have plenty of patience, thank you,” she shot back, voice tart. “And while I admit your powers of self-denial outstrip my own, what you would be setting against my will is not your ability to deny yourself, but to deny me.”

Aymeric's expression turned from amused to considering as he mulled over her point, but he did not concede. “I suppose the only thing for it is to put it to the test, then.” Long, calloused fingers traced patterns on the inside of her thigh as he spoke, and Kaede was finding it increasingly difficult to retain her righteous indignation.

Stretching and resettling against the arm of the sofa, Kaede regarded him with a look she hoped radiated more suspicion and offended dignity than arousal. “And how, good ser, do you propose we do that?”

“Simple. You permit me to do as I please, unhindered, and we see which happens first – my patience being exhausted, and bringing one or the other of us to release… or you begging me to do so.” As he spoke, his fingers drifted higher, ghosting over her smallclothes in a way that had her biting back a moan. His face said clearly that he had noticed how close he had come already to provoking a reaction, and Kaede could think of several delightful ways to wipe the smug look off his face, but none would be so enjoyable as rising to his challenge and overcoming it.

“And what, precisely, constitutes begging?” These kinds of games always came with rules, and she excelled in bending them just to the point of breaking, but no further. Usually, anyway.

Anticipation coiled in her stomach at the look he gave her as he rose and then leaned over, one hand braced against the top of the sofa as his other cradled her cheek. She could have pulled him down into a kiss, but to do so now, after he had questioned her patience, would be tantamount to admitting defeat already. Seemingly satisfied by her affected stoicism, he dragged the pad of his thumb slowly over her bottom lip as he spoke. “The word please. All other requests and demands I shall ignore, save those that contain that word.”

Kaede’s breath caught in her throat, and she raised her chin to stare him down, as if he weren’t effectively pinning her to the sofa. “Do your worst, then.”

A large hand abruptly sank into the hair at the nape of her neck and pulled her up, roughly, into a kiss that was more teeth and hunger than usual, and this time she couldn’t stop the small, needy moan from escaping, earning a chuckle against her lips as her reward. Aymeric pulled back and favored her with a long look that mingled lust and pure adoration in a way that never failed to make her a bit weak in the knees, then stood and walked over to a small locked cabinet next to their bed.

Taking a deep, fortifying breath, Kaede stood and followed him, only to be gently seized by the shoulders and spun around, her arms pulled behind her, wrists together. A silk ribbon looped and wove itself around them in a way that was loose enough for comfort – and to wiggle free, if she truly wanted to – but secure enough to hold against mindless writhing. A blindfold followed, and Kaede found herself pulled back against the broad expanse of Aymeric’s chest as one hand wrapped itself firmly around the column of her throat, tight enough to make her heart race and hold her in place, but not enough to choke.

The other wandered its way down her body, undoing the buttons of her borrowed shirt, slipping beneath to cup one of her breasts and tease it to a peak, pinching hard, then releasing and continuing farther down. Fingers slid beneath her smallclothes and traced around the edges of her opening, his touch too light to be anything but frustrating.

Her hips jerked, seeking any kind of friction, and Aymeric withdrew his hand, laughing at her hiss of anger. “The game is patience, is it not? I fear you are doing naught but proving my point, my lady.”

“I have broken no rules – ah!” The hand at her throat released, moving to splay open-handed across her back, as the other swept upwards, behind her knees, lifting her into the air and then depositing her onto the bed with a bounce. “Godsdammit, Aymeric, you could warn me when you do that,” she grumbled, voice a touch more pouty than she’d intended.

Somewhere above her head, she heard a chuckle as the bed next to her dipped under his weight, and then lips brushed featherlight over her forehead. “Forgive me,” he said, with not an onze of contrition in his voice at all.

She hadn’t the time to chastise him for that before his fingers had hooked into her smallclothes and dragged them off her legs with no preamble, the warm breath of his exhale on her inner thigh her only warning for what was to come. Lips and tongue worked over her as large hands pinned her hips to the bed, and she gasped at the sudden, direct contact. Kaede wished she could see him, sharp blue eyes looking up at her from between her legs, or bury her hands in his hair, or wrap her thighs around his ears, but she was helpless to do anything but endure, all her senses narrowed down to the wet heat of his mouth and the pressure of his hands. Her gasps came faster as he continued, unrelenting, and she had completely forgotten the terms they had set by the time pleasure began to well up within her, building, and then –

Nothing. Kaede heard her voice come out as a whine as cold air hit overheated flesh, aching and stymied, on the precipice but with nothing to tip her over it. She bit down on her bottom lip, hard, unsure if her words would come out as pleas or curses, so she kept silent.

His mouth ghosted over the inside of her thigh and she shuddered, hard, as he spoke, “Nothing to say, my love? No requests?”

Kaede shook her head once, sharply, and she could feel the way his lips curved into a smile before he pulled fully away, the weight on the bed lifting shortly after. She had but a moment before one hand was in her hair again, the other at the small of her back, pulling her up into a sitting position and then to stand as he kissed her, the taste of herself heady on his tongue. No sooner had she gained unsteady footing than the hand at the back of her neck shifted to her shoulder, pushing down hard. Her weakened knees buckled, and then hit the plush carpet as she pitched forward, her forehead coming to rest against soft skin and firm muscle.

His play became clear as his fingers slid under her chin and tipped her head back, the broad tip of his cock resting lightly against her lips. Without her hands to steady her, his hand gripping the back of her neck, and with her cunt still throbbing, she would have only a fraction of her normal skill – doubtless his intention all along, to keep her from leaving him in the state he had left her. The utter arsehole. Still, she could not help but part her lips and draw him in, revelling in the soft groan and the way his hand tightened in her hair, the sharp pain of it grounding her. She did her best with the limited range of motion, gratified by every twitch of his hips, every unintentional thrust into her mouth as she tried to take him ever deeper. Not that she truly believed that she could make him lose himself so easily, but she had to at least try.

‘Twas less time than she expected before he pulled her head back and stepped out of her reach, tugging her back up off of the ground and into his arms. Kaede chuckled at the sound of his racing heart, the way his cock throbbed against her leg. She opened her mouth to speak but no sound came out, so she cleared her throat and tried again, voice hoarse. “No requests?” she echoed back at him, and smirked at his breathless laugh as he pushed her back onto the bed again.

“Tempting, but no.” His hands smoothed back her hair from where it had stuck to sweat-damp skin, gentler than they had been. When he spoke next, all pretense had dropped from his voice, leaving it laden with nothing but love and concern. “You are alright, yes? We can stop if you like.”

A pause in the game, and a way out if she wished one, without admitting defeat. Even in the midst of deepest debauchery, he was a gentleman. Kaede rolled her shoulders as best she could with them pinned behind her, weighing the pain they’d be in the next day against the idea of yielding, then shook her head. “I know how to end this when I’m ready, but I don’t intend to be the one to do it.” She paused, and then continued, “I wouldn’t object to you taking the damned blindfold off, though.”

Dim light hit her eyes, bright after the utter darkness. As her eyes focused in the gloom, she grinned up at Aymeric, noting how disheveled he looked. He was less in control than he’d let on, she thought. He returned the smile before leaning down to kiss her, long and slow in a way that left her feeling warm and relaxed. His mouth proceeded down, teeth scraping over the scales on her neck before biting down on her shoulder. She gasped and twisted as she watched him work his way down with teeth and tongue, love bites blooming in his path on her breasts, her stomach, the insides of her thighs. Between those and the inevitable marks on her wrists, it would leave nothing to the imagination what they had been up to tonight, and she knew the idea of that pleased him as much or more than it did her.

She expected him to linger between her legs, perhaps bring her back up to the edge again, but instead he just dragged the flat of his tongue over her, tasting her, before he made to pull away. Hissing in frustration, she wound her legs around his back, arching up against his mouth as she pinned him in place. Unable to resist, he groaned and returned to his earlier task with renewed vigor, matching her gasps with small moans of his own. It was with obvious reluctance that he grabbed her hips and forced them back to the bed, rising unsteadily to his feet.

Breathless, she stared up at him in challenge, watching him as his eyes devoured the sight of her laid out below him. “This is,” he murmured, “perhaps more difficult than I thought it would be. I have yet one more card to play, however.”

Kaede laughed, but it caught in her throat as the head of his cock nudged at the wet heat between her legs. “You–” she said on a gasp, “play a dangerous game, ser.”

His only answer was to push forward, slowly, so godsdamned slowly, every nerve ending in her body screaming out for friction, for him to move just a little faster, but he gritted his teeth and held firm, sinking into her one agonizing ilm at a time until he was sheathed fully within her, hands trembling where they gripped her hips. His cock pulsed and throbbed within her, her walls clamped down and squeezed, but it was not enough. They stared at each other for one long moment, until Aymeric took a deep, shuddering breath and let it out, his voice splintered and unbelievably tense as he ground out her name, nearly a plea itself.

His hands released her and came to plant themselves on either side of her head, forehead dropping to hers as her legs wrapped around the backs of his thighs and pulled him closer. “I want – gods –” he hissed through gritted teeth, then stopped himself, all his focus aimed inward as she twisted beneath him.

Just the simple act of him being inside her was enough to drive her to the edge of madness, but no matter what she did, his hips were locked firmly into place, and she could not get the leverage to move enough to either break him or push herself over. Instead, all she did was drive herself mad, so close to what she wanted but yet so damned far, until she was nearly sobbing from the ache of it.

And then his hips rocked into hers with a enough force to make her see stars, and she was gasping, words spilling out before she could stop them: “Don’tstopdon’tstopAymericgodsplease–”

The sound that ripped itself out of his throat was nearly inhuman with the rawness of it, and he gasped a breathless litany of “thank yous” and “I love yous” into the crook of her neck as his control shattered utterly, and he drove into her again and again like a man possessed, artless and rhythmless, seeking only depth and friction and–

She broke apart on a moan that might have been called a scream if not for how hoarse her voice was, shuddering and sobbing as waves of pleasure cascaded through her, building again before the last had a chance to break, like a shore battered by a storm.

When finally they subsided, she became distantly aware of other things: the ache in her shoulders that had blossomed into full-blown pain, a sharp stinging sensation along her collarbone, the weight of Aymeric’s body collapsed on hers. When she let out a small groan, his voice answered, and she discovered one source of pain – somewhere in the course of his own release, he had bitten her shoulder hard enough to break the skin. She tapped his backside with her heel, weakly, and he stirred.

“’Meric – my hands –”

That launched him into ungraceful motion, rising off of her and pulling her up with him enough to clumsily pick her bindings free with trembling fingers. “Gods, I’m sorry, I should have –”

As soon as the ribbons loosened, she flung her arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a kiss, clinging to him without regard for dignity or anything but keeping him as close as humanly possible. “Shut up, and don’t you dare go anywhere.”

“I fear not even the second coming of the Fury herself could get me out of this bed right now,” he responded with a breathless half-laugh, dropping them both back down onto the bed and twining his legs with hers as they settled onto their sides.

After long moments of catching their breath, Aymeric leaned back enough to favor her with a grin. “I believe, my lady, that by the terms of our game, I am the winner.”

Kaede snorted. “By a technicality only. You wagered it all at the end, because I know that you could not have stopped yourself if I’d held out even a moment longer.”

“Shall we call it a tie, then?”

“Mm. That means we will have to play again, you know. To find out the true winner.”

She grinned as he chuckled into her hair, sounding more tired by the moment. “Those are thoughts for another night, my love.”

Kaede hummed in agreement, and then lapsed into restful, satisfied silence as they both enjoyed the warm, soothing afterglow of victory.

[raevenlywrites]

Hi Raev! I'm wondering if I can get your opinion on somethin.

So I've been having symptoms of depression and adhd and anxiety but I'm not any of those, I don't have any official diagnosis of anything but I've been trying to figure out for years what's wrong with me. The doctor says I need to be more active and sleep better, which I agree with that it would help. However, I cannot find motivation to even get up once I lay down, it's very difficult. I tried reward systems but they don't work because I either cheat (or skip a scheduled task) or I reward myself for the barest minimum lol.

I have other issues I won't get into, basically I feel stupid sometimes. But anyway I think something is wrong with me or I'm just lazy. But I don't know how to improve. How do I force myself to do things I need to?

Hey Nonny,

Let me start off by saying that the world is on fire and feeling depressed and anxious is like a given. That's not to diminish your situation at all, simply to say that even w/o a Dx, feeling stressed/anxious/depressed/hopeless is a very reasonable reaction to the state of things. So just keep that in mind.

I'd recommend a slight tweak on the reward system for starters, and try for a general tracker, so that you have an unbiased record of how things are going for you. It's easy for our brains to focus on the negative, and to negate any progress no matter how small. So, if you're able, make a note somewhere you can access easy (I email myself for example) and track any points of interest. Start small; you can always add more, but you don't want to scare yourself off with a massive list. When I'm at a low point, my tracking email is a simple "slept bad, hate everything" sent right after I turn off my alarm. Eventually, that email turns into "slept ok, gonna try to write something today" or a "had a decent day. Tired, but I managed to take a shower." It doesnt have to be elaborate, but the act of checking in with yourself will help make sure you don't miss the better days, and will help give you ammo against the "it's always been bad and it will never change" feeling that creeps in when you're at your lowest.

My other bit of advice is to seriously lower your expectations. The success you'll feel at achieving a ridiculously small goal adds up, and it helps combat the "do all the things! Oh no I didn't do them all I faaaaaaail" trap. Set a goal of brushing your teeth once a fucking week. Just once. Don't think about how small it is or what other folks are doing, just hit that goal of brush your teeth once a week. If you wanna be more active, start with just flexing all your muscles a few times while you're lying there in bed. Seriously, it's more exercise than none at all. Doing just a little bit is better than doing nothing. The babyiest of steps, ya know?

Finally, I just want to remind you that you're not bad or stupid or wrong or lazy. Your brain isn't doing the go thing, that's all. It's easy to fall into this idea that you should be productive and everyone else can do it etc etc. First off, no, not everyone else can. Lots of us struggle with executive function so it's seriously not just you. And second off, even if it was that doesn't make you stupid. It just means your internal processes aren't firing as expected. It happens. I'd recommend using coping strategies for ADHD that work for you, even without an official Dx. If it helps, it helps. If it doesn't, try something new. Shift the way you expect things to go. For example, I can't seem to make myself unload the silverware from the dishwasher if it's the last step I do. So I just do it at some random point, only the silverware, and leave all the other dishes. I get back to them eventually. Doing it in pieces works for me, and there's no weird dish police coming to write me a ticket (I do get that I have the luxury of an understanding partner and no one breathing down my neck to be upset about how I do this, ymmv). This is part of where tracking can help, too. If you can figure out what parts of a task hang you up, you can pivot and try doing them a different way.

I wish you all the luck with this, Nonny. It's a tough battle you got there. Make it as easy on yourself as you can. <3

[scarlettriot]

Stood Up

You (Y/N) get stood up from a date and Kaminari decides to do something about it.

Pairing: Kaminari/F!Reader

Contains: Fluff, Flirty Denki, Established BakuSquad Friendship

Warnings: 18+ Below the cut, Minors DNI! Swearing, Electro-Stim, Overstimulation, use of pet names (cuddle bug & cutie), oral (F receiving), consensual recording

A/N: Well, here we are with the third in my Stood Up series. There is also Bakugo & Kirishima if you're interested. This one took me way too long and it's also my first time writing Kaminari at length. I hope you all like it :)

Word Count Starting Below: 2,461

You slipped your foot into the silver heels you had picked out. Something a little fancier since this was a first date after all and you wanted to make a lasting impression. Not only that but this was your first first date in a while. Being a Pro Hero made life busy and dating difficult.

Practically the entire day leading up to this very moment revolved around you either getting ready or babbling with excitement to your closest friends.

An alert chimed on your phone with a text from your date, a smile sliding onto your face expecting to read some message about how they were on their way and that they'd see you soon, but that wasn't what you were met with.

Instead, it was a screenshot of your Instagram page, multiple of them actually, all of you and the ridiculous photos you took with your friends but mostly with one Denki Kaminari. The most recent of which was from a tea shop he met you at just earlier that day so you could show him the shoes for your date.

The message below was simple and more than enough to leave a sour taste in your mouth, this isn't what I want to see when I'm supposed to be taking you out tonight. What, one date a day isn't enough? Why are you even dating? Does your blonde boyfriend know?

You giggled at what they were implying, quick to explain how these were all your friends, they had been since high school! They are people you spent what little free time you had with. Especially Denki, your best friend since you were 15!

That joy you felt started dissipating within the next few messages. You hadn't even had a first date and they were already jealous, and that was something you didn't have room for in your life. So, you slipped the heels off your feet and put them directly back in the box to return when you had the time. Tight black jeans and fitted top were exchanged with a hoodie and sweats although your makeup and hair stayed done, you didn't have the energy to undo your hard work.

Instead, you slid back into your computer chair, your headset snuggly back on your ears and before you notified everyone you were back online, you took a moment listening to the chatter of your friends.

"Shitty Hair! Fuckin' pay attention!"

"Yeah, man! We're getting slaughtered over here!"

"Less yelling at Kiri! More shooty shooty!"

"All of you are hopeless..."

Eijiro chuckled out an apology that was accompanied by a lighter giggle also coming from his mic. "Think this is gonna be my last round for a bit, guys."

"You're so fuckin' whipped." Bakugo scoffed, before screaming profanities.

"Is it whipped if I'm the one who's wanting to get her into bed though?"

You clicked your mic back on then. "Hey, remember last week when Kats forgot his push to talk so we all heard him getting head and we party whipped because someone couldn't focus?"

"You better shut the hell up right fucking now!"

Everyone else roared with laughter. "Yeah! At least I have the decency to mute myself!"

"Hey, wait a sec, why are you online, Y/N!" Denki noted, "You should have already left!"

You screenshot your messages to the group chat because it was far easier than just explaining the ordeal.

"Cute shoes." Eijiro and Kyoka commented at the same time.

There was a lull as their game ended and the messages were read.

"Ya don't need 'em if they're gonna have their head so far up their ass like this."

"I agree." Hanta chimed in. "They're not worth your time."

"Still, sorry they turned out to be a shit." You could hear the frown on Kyoka's face, "I know how excited you were."

"Right, you doin' okay, Y/N? I can stick around and we can all shoot some things!"

"Thanks, Kiri but I'll be just fine! Go spend time with your girl!"

One by one, everyone signed off. You pulled up Spotify and Stardew Valley, something of a comfort for you to get lost in for the rest of the night.

Less than an hour later, you noticed your phone lighting up with your best friend's familiar smiling face. "What's up, Denki?"

"Open your door! I have my hands full and don't wanna put everything down to get my key!"

You sprang from your desk and rushed to your door. Sure enough, on the other side was Denki with bags in both hands and his phone tucked between his ear and shoulder. You grabbed it and a bag before he had a chance to drop anything like the klutz he was. "What's with all this?"

"I feel bad."

"Why? You didn't stand me up?"

He fiddled with the edge of a paper bag. "Yeah, but, we both read those messages and no one said anything but they didn't just call our group out, they called us out.

"Denks, it doesn't matter to me-"

"But, it does to me! You were so excited about this and I got in the way, unknowingly but, still! So, I gotta make it up to you now!"

He pulled out take-out boxes from your favorite restaurant. Two bottles of your favorite wine. Your top three favorite movies and video games, and a board game you both had been meaning to try. "I mean, if they think I'm your boyfriend I kinda gotta live up to the hype, right?"

You really wanted to insist that none of this was necessary. That just because some person that neither of you really knew that well, assumed something about your relationship that didn't mean he had to blame himself for it.

But, you had to admit, this was really sweet. It shouldn't have come as a surprise to you that he knew everything you liked but it was nice. Instead of sitting across from a stranger, making awkward small talk, and trying to learn about one another, you were barefoot in your kitchen, laughing with your best friend while he plated dinner and you poured the wine.

Formalities were out the window. Both you and Denki were eating dinner in your living room, laughing and drinking just as you'd done a million times before. You snapped a photo of the delicious food on paper plates, toasting good times with your cheap wine, ready to post them to your Instagram.

"Gonna make them more jealous..."

"I think they made it pretty clear they don't want to see me so why should I care?"

He shrugged. "I just thought they might, you know, come to their senses that they obviously lost."

"I don't really care either way." You wandered back into your kitchen, putting away the leftovers, "They can forget I exist or they can stalk my page like a creep. If someones' gonna try and tell me I can't be friends with my friends or just not listen to me, then I don't want them in my life. No matter how good-looking they are."

Denki watched you from the sofa, a bit of a lopsided grin on his face that had butterflies taking flight in your stomach. "What?" Laughing to hide the bit of a crush you always had on the man. It was unavoidable you told yourself. His personality was infectious and had 15 year old you head over heels.

He pushed back bright blonde hair back off his forehead and just shook his head. "Nothin'. Uh, what's next? Video game, board game, or movie?"

You peaked on the counter at the options. "Well, we probably should have checked this but the board game needs at least four people to play... guess we'll have to save that for our next game night. Is a movie okay?"

Of course, it was.

You brought over the DVD with a refill of wine and he pulled a blanket down off the back of your sofa.

It really didn't take long, just fifteen minutes or so, and you were curled up into Denki's side. You'd make grabby hands for your wine glass and he'd pass it over with that damn grin again.

And not long after that, he'd pulled out his phone, angling it to take a picture of the two of you. "What are you doing?" You could see him on his own Instagram, tagging you, with the caption, Check out my cute cuddle bug.

"I thought you didn't want to make them more jealous."

"I decided I don't care either. You're mine tonight, their loss. And since you're mine tonight, I get bragging rights." He snapped another quick picture of you rolling your eyes at him, and then he kept snapping them.

"Denki! Why!"

"Because you're cute, cuddle bug! I like having all the pictures of you that I can!"

Even as you tackled him back down on the sofa, pinning him below you, he still managed a photo. "Bet if I post this one, they'll really get the wrong idea."

You could have moved. You were the one on top of him and you had his arms above his head. You had the power here and yet you just lingered above him.

"Y/N? Not that I'm one to complain about having a beautiful person such as yourself pinning me down, like, it's kinda hot, but..." Looking down into half-lidded golden eyes, you wondered why you had to become best friends with such a damn flirt! "Are you gonna take advantage of this situation we're in or are we just gonna keep dancing around this for another decade or so?"

You couldn't have heard him right? No... no this was your brain playing tricks on you because he certainly hadn't had that much wine tonight. You sat upright on his lap. "Another decade then, Y/N?"

"You- ha- you should stop that, Denki."

He leaned up, moving his arms around you, "Gimme a good reason to and I will."

You didn't have one. And not just because you've been in love with him for ten years but also because he was your best friend. The only reason to not go through with it was the possibility of losing your friendship if something bad were to happen but, you really didn't think anything would.

Denki might have been a serial flirt but he was surprisingly loyal in all the relationships he'd been in, not that there had been all that many serious ones.

"I'm not hearing anything." He teased, his face getting closer to yours. You could count each and every one of the faint freckles that littered the balls of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. "But, I promise, if you tell me no, I'll stop, won't push this any further."

This whole thing seemed like a frickin' whirlwind, happening faster than your brain could really process the situation but you didn't want it to stop either. You wanted to take it further, didn't want to say no.

Which was why you coiled your arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. There was that small little buzz of electricity that tickled your lips when he'd kiss your nose or cheeks that was now playing on his lips, on his tongue when you welcomed him in.

He leaned back again, pulling you with him until you were both a pile of needy hands and breathy pleas. Everywhere his hands roamed you felt that faint trail of shock against your skin, making the little hairs on your body stand on end.

Clothes were shed, tossed haphazardly around your living room, both of you pausing to laugh when Denki managed to land your hoodie over a lamp. His attention was drawn back to you quickly though, still perched on top of him but now he had your chest on full display since you'd forgone a bra when your date canceled.

Electrifying tongue twirled around your nipples, sensitive normally, now it felt like you knew what it was like when he fried his damn brain. He was eager, relentless even, pulling and sucking, another hand giving your other breast a similar treatment. He had you so focused that you let out a broken moan when slender fingers found their way into your panties.

"Fuckin' hell, Denki."

The bastard winked up at you, nipple still between his lips and before you could retort, he sent another small jolt through you.

You were blatantly grinding down on his hand, reaching behind you, you found him completely solid, barely being contained in the tight black boxers he wore. You had enough sense to tug them down and wrap your hand around him making his teeth sink into your soft flesh, whining when you stroked him.

"Y/N..." He whimpered, his hand momentarily distracted from his ministrations gave you enough time to shift in his lap to scoot forward putting his cock in front of you. In one swift motion, you had his length between your slick. "Oh fuck, cutie!" Golden eyes were squeezed shut while you moved along him, feeling that pleasant curve he had, you could only imagine what it was gonna be like to have him inside you.

"You're being a little tease, ma-makes me wanna do all sorts of things to y-you."

He was kissing your neck, your chest, shoulders, and arms, anywhere on you that he could reach. His hips bucking up into you, just trying to hit that perfect angle.

Strength and agility were something most overlooked when it came to Denki Kaminari but when the man wanted something bad enough, he found a way to get it.

He had your ass rising up in the air with a harsh thrust of his hips and a small squeak from you, giving him exactly enough time to scoot down on the sofa so you were sat atop his face. If you complained, he didn't hear you. Denki already had your thighs around his head and his tongue devouring you completely.

Little shockwaves rocked you while you cried out his name, hands fisting blonde locks just trying to stay upright.

One orgasm from you apparently wasn't enough, neither was two but on the third, Denki finally relented, allowing your heartrate to come back down and your gasping breaths to come in more steadily.

You slid back down his body, his erection now smack against your ass. His hair was recked, face completely flush but he had the biggest grin on his face that you'd ever seen.

Denki kissed both your cheeks, "You are so amazing, cutie!" Kissed your lips, "You taste better than anything I've ever had!" And one more on the tip of your nose. "Doin' okay?"

You nodded, starting to really gather yourself again, and by this point, you really just wanted one thing.

"I wanna... Denks... can I take care of you now?"

"Sure, cutie! How do you want me?" The wiggling eyebrows had you rolling your eyes and pushing him on his back again.

It took little effort for you to position yourself above his cock, and with how slick you were, his bright pink head slipped right inside. He held your hands while you scrunched up your face, sliding all the way down him until he was completely sheathed within.

The curve was immaculate. Hitting in just the right way that had you moaning with just a couple thrusts from him. Before long, you were eagerly bouncing on his cock. Riding him hard so he filled you up each and every time.

You barely registered him reaching for the coffee table, his phone now in his hands. "What're you doin'?" You practically slurred, slowing only slightly. He tapped the camera lens with a wicked grin. "Seriously?"

"We could make 'em really jealous now..."

Somewhere in your brain, you knew your date wouldn't give two shits, in fact, this probably would have only validated their thoughts about your's and Denki's relationship but with his cock stuffed so deeply into you, kissing your cervix in the most beautiful way, you really didn't give a damn.

You and Denki put on the best possible show you could think of. You were overstimulated, sore, and completely elated! He balanced the phone against the wine bottle so neither of you had to try to hold it.

This way he could play with your breasts or squeeze your thighs while you dug half-moons into his chest. Shocked with the playful zaps he sent right to your core.

Your makeup you'd didn't feel like taking off now ran down your cheeks with tears. Your hair was a mess thanks to him pulling at it.

Denki had you howling through another two orgasms, telling you how perfect you were, how nice you felt squeezing him so tightly, your nails felt so good against his skin.

It was only when you collapsed against his chest did he hoist your hips up so he could ram into you, pulling out just at the last second with a strangled cry of your name.

He wiggled himself free, grabbing a towel from your bathroom and cleaning you both up before stopping the recording.

"You're, hey you're gonna send that to me right?" You asked when he handed back your hoodie off the lamp.

He dropped a kiss on your lips, plopping down beside you on the sofa again and you noticed your email already up and the video uploading. "Obviously, we share all our videos and photos. Why would this be different?"

[secret-kpoplibrary]

The Prince's First Love Pt. 7

Pairing: Prince!Namjoon x Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: None really, the reader and Namjoon bicker some more cause he's nosy

Genre: this is pretty fluffy I think minor angst maybe

Summary: You've been working at the palace for much of your adult life, under specific instructions from The King. That is to stay as far from the prince as you can manage and certainly not to speak to him. Above all, you are never allowed to tell him the truth about how you ended up here. Which is all easy enough until doing one nice thing for his little cousin gets you his attention and suddenly you're doing everything you can to keep the king's skeletons in your closet while Prince Namjoon keeps trying to open it. If you thought keeping the prince in the dark would be simple you're about to find out just how difficult the royals make your life.

***

When you walk into the kitchen Yoongi is looking over a bunch of lists.

"Hi Yoongi. Annalise and Namjoon have decided to go for a picnic." You say putting the basket on a counter.

"Oh hi." He mutters dismissively.

"Yoongs what're you doing?" You ask.

"I know royal events are known for their extravagance but I mean- yeesh this wedding is on like a ridiculous level." Yoongi muses. You chuckle to yourself as you pack for the picnic.

"Well the wedding of the future king is one of the most important events of the decade- besides maybe like his coronation, should that happen this decade."

"So picnic. Where are you going?" Yoongi sighs.

"I'm not sure- I think to the gardens. I'm just packing the basket." You shrug.

"You're not going with them?" He asks.

"I probably will because Annalise makes me go everywhere with her, with them. It's getting a bit much honestly."

"Really? I thought you liked her."

"I do! I'm less fond of spending so much time with the prince. I mean he wants to ruin the marriage because of me and I feel so bad for Annalise- she actually likes him Yoongi I just- I don't know."

"You could always tell the truth."

"What part of the king threatened my family makes you think that would be a good course of action?"

"I still believe the prince would protect you."

"He doesn't even have control over his own life Yoongi how exactly would he protect me from the king?" You frown.

"There has to be a solution."

"Keep yelling at the prince until he listens to me."

"Of course that's your solution." Yoongi scoffs.

"Well- time to go on a picnic. Ciao- and good luck with the wedding stuff on your end."

"Good luck on your end too." Yoongi calls out as you leave. You head back to Annalise's room just long enough to grab her attention.

"Ready to go Lady Annalise?" You ask poking your head into her room.

"Yes! Have you packed our picnic?"

"I have! We can meet the prince at the gate if you're ready now."

"Perfect, let's go." She says practically pulling you down the hall.

"Annalise, y/n. Hello." Namjoon says when you reach the palace doors.

"Hi!" Annalise smiles.

"Hello prince Namjoon." You nod.

"I figured we'd picnic in the gardens today."

"Sounds great!" Annalise says looping her arm through Namjoon's as he walks her to the gardens. When you get to the garden Annalise picks a spot and you set up the blanket and food.

"Y/n darling I've been meaning to ask but I keep forgetting, where are you from?" Annalise asks once you're sitting and eating.

"Um- a village not far from here- less than an hour ride away." You say.

"Oh- really?" How lovely. Is it nice being close to home?"

"It's- well I don't go home often so-"

"What of your family? Do you have any?"

"I have a younger brother, yes and he's with my parents."

"A younger brother?" Annalise smiles.

"Oh that's right- you mentioned him several months ago." Namjoon says.

"Several months ago?" Annalise looks between the two of you.

"I saw her in the dining room with prince Elijah when he was here and you should've seen her with him Annalise, I'd never seen him calm down so quickly." Namjoon says.

"All I did was sing him a song and promise to read him a bedtime story." You say.

"And then he made you read him a story every night on his trip. You're like, amazing with kids." Namjoon says.

"Then we can have her vet any nannies we have for any kids we have." Annalise says.

"We have nannies in the palace- do you plan to- hire new ones?" You frown.

"Well, probably not. I guess it depends if they get on well with the kids we have."

"I'm sure they will." You say.

"Y/n if your family is so close- why do you never see them?" Namjoon frowns.

"Things are- complicated."

"Are you not close to your family?" Annalise asks.

"I am very close to them it's just- the circumstances under which I left make it... nearly impossible to see them so- going home and not being able to see my family would be worse than not going at all." You explain.

"I don't mean to pry, I guess I'm just curious." Annalise tells you.

"It's alright- my family could really use the money from me working here so, that's why I make the sacrifices."

"Could we invite them to the wedding?" Annalise asks excitedly.

"W-what?" You blink at her.

"Our wedding! Since you can't go see them at home- maybe they could come here."

"Uh- n-no I can't let you do that. I appreciate the offer really but- I couldn't." You shake your head.

"Sure you can!"

"Lady Annalise I really can't. If my family came here we'd all-" you glance at Namjoon and stop abruptly, "it's just not a good idea. Please, leave it at that." You say.

"You can't talk about your family." Namjoon says.

"I can't." You agree even though it wasn't a question.

"Why not?" Annalise frowns.

"I can't tell you why either. It's- above me."

"So you're all alone?" Annalise pouts.

"I've made friends here. I'm- alright, thank you for your concern Lady Annalise but you have nothing to worry about." You tell her.

"If you insist I will leave it alone, but please know that you can tell me whatever it is that's going on." Annalise looks at you.

"Thank you Lady Annalise."

"You can talk to me too y/n." Namjoon pitches in.

"Your grace- don't take this the wrong way but I absolutely cannot." You break into giggles as you say that. "I'm sorry." You say through your laughter at his mock indignation.

"Why not?! I thought we were cool!" He says.

"First of all you're the prince and I'm your servant-"

"Technically you're my father's servant."

"Semantics! Still- you're, a lot higher than I am socially. It would be odd to bring my problems to you like you're my therapist or something your highness, you're like- the second highest authority."

"And I've always told you to treat me normally. After all we're so close in age- I mean- I don't see us as different."

"I have friends you know. It's not like I'm in need of social connections, please keep that in mind as you try to convince me we can be best friends." You joke.

"Maybe not best friends- but you're much more casual with Annalise-"

"Is this about you needing more friends prince Namjoon?" You ask him.

"I was thinking the same thing!" Annalise laughs.

"I have friends!" Namjoon protests. You throw your head back laughing. "I do!"

"Sure sure! We believe you." You tell him.

"Well you should! Because I'm telling the truth."

"Prince N-"

"Drop the formalities. I'm serious y/n, if you can drop them with Lady Annalise you can drop them with me. At least when we're in casual settings like this." Namjoon says looking at you seriously.

"Fine! I will drop the titles if it's so important to you Namjoon." You say with a dramatically defeated sigh.

"Good." Namjoon nods.

"Great." You say holding back a smile. The three of you remain in the gardens for another couple of hours before you're packing up and walking back to the palace.

"I'm going to take some things to the kitchen." You announce once you're inside.

"When you're done y/n meet me in my room please."

"Of course Annalise. Your highness." You say and turn to go to the kitchen.

"It's always nice to see you y/n." Namjoon calls. You throw a wave over your shoulder and make your way to the kitchen quickly.

"Yoongi I am in so much trouble." You sigh as you toss the basket on a counter.

"What did you do? How do you get in trouble chaperoning a picnic?"

"Lady Annalise, sweet as she is started probing about my family so I had to give all these awkward evasive answers that only made the two of them more curious. Annalise even wanted to invite my family to the wedding so I could see them and I couldn't even tell them why that was absolutely not possible. This is madness Yoongi. Complete madness." You huff.

"You can't blame them for wondering." Yoongi shrugs.

"I don't! But man do I wish I could go back to the days when he had no idea who I was. I can't believe I'm saying this but the king may have been doing me a favor by keeping me away from the prince." You mutter.

"If he wanted to keep you so far from the prince why have you serve his fiance? That never really made sense to me-"

"I don't know Yoongi, sometimes the king is sadistic. Perhaps he's done this on purpose, seeing how much I'm willing to endure. Or maybe it's just an unfortunate series of events, the prince's curiosity becoming the bane of my existence. The constant reminders of a time I've so desperately tried to forget I mean-"

"Maybe forgetting it isn't the way to go. I'm not saying tell him because obviously your family is at risk here but- there has to be something else that can be done I mean- this level of stress cannot be good for anyone."

"Yeah- I don't know what to do, but now I have to go see Annalise so- that crisis can wait." You sigh.

"Well- I'm always here if you need to talk. You know that." Yoongi says.

"Have I told you how much I love you?"

"You could stand to say it more often." He shrugs making you laugh.

"Oh could I now?" You muse.

"In my personal opinion as the person you love, I think you could, yes."

"I'll take your feedback into consideration thank you." You roll your eyes and leave the kitchen. You go back to Annalise's room trying not to be anxious about her request for you to return to her.

"Annalise? I'm back- as requested." You say as you walk in.

"Y/n! That took a bit longer than I expected."

"I apologize if I kept you waiting-"

"Nonsense! I was only saying I didn't think you'd be in the kitchen long."

"Well- you know how I said I had friends here in the palace?"

"Yes!"

"One of them works in the kitchen so- I stuck around a bit to talk to him because he was there when I went in." You explain.

"Oh- what did you talk about? If you wanna share."

"He asked about the picnic."

"You told him about the picnic?"

"Well he was in the kitchen when I went to pack the basket as well so- yes I told him about the picnic. He just wanted to know how it went."

"So when you say friend- is there like- something more there?" Annalise asks with a smirk.

"No Annalise- he's been like a brother to me since I got here." You chuckle.

"Like a brother huh? So I take it he knows about your family?"

"Yes. He knows about my family."

"Even why you can't see them?" Annalise asks.

"Yes, even that."

"Well how come you could tell him?" She pouts.

"Because Yoongi, like myself, is lowborn. There are no consequences in other servants knowing about it. The issues arise when highborns like you and prince Namjoon get involved."

"I don't get it." 

"If Namjoon knew the real reason I wasn't allowed to see my family- I fear he'd do something that's beyond his reach."

"What do you mean?" Annalise frowns.

"Well- he could try talking to the king or even making demands. It would lead to a fate worse than death. I can't tell him and to keep you from having secrets from your future husband I'm not telling you either."

"Isn't that a bit dramatic?"

"Annalise I promise if I told you keeping that a secret from Namjoon would surely drive you insane. You'd want to tell him and that's not something I'd wish on you."

"I'm confused. Does this have something to do with him?"

"Even if it did- that is not the issue. The issue is that Namjoon is a good man and- he seems to care about me for some reason. He absolutely can't know because he would be furious and the king would have my head because I'm sure Namjoon would take it up with him."

"It really is that serious?" Annalise gasps.

"Yes lady Annalise. It is." You nod.

"Y/n- I'm sorry that I pushed. Truth is I was quite sheltered as a kid. I didn't have many friends and you've been so kind to me since I got here. I know that it's your job but- well especially since I don't have anyone else I thought- maybe we could actually be friends."

"Annalise- you've been a very gracious guest- of course we can be friends but you must understand I am a servant of the crown first and foremost so there are some aspects of friendship that I cannot perform." You sigh.

"Like sharing secrets."

"Just this one. If I had any other secrets that wouldn't directly oppose the king I would tell you in a heartbeat."

"I appreciate the sentiment." She smiles.

"I'm sorry Lady Annalise."

"No it's alright- I understand, Namjoon cares about you which is- otherwise sweet."

"Namjoon only cares about why his father is interested in working so closely with someone so young." You scoff.

"What do you mean?"

"He didn't even know who I was until some months ago." You scoff.

"No way-"

"You know the story he told you? About me singing to prince Elijah?"

"Oh yes-about how amazing you are with kids."

"That was the night he met me really."

"That can't be right- you've been here since you were 18, haven't you?"

"Yes-  but servants aren't meant to be noticed. I did quite a good job of that until I was nice to the king's nephew."

"Well on the bright side- the prince caring about you may be quite good."

"Only if the king doesn't kill me for it before the prince is crowned." You muse.

"Could it really result in something that serious?"

"I know he's been kind to you but do not underestimate the harshness of the king. People fear him for a reason." You tell her.

"I guess your right. I won't ask again- though, Namjoon is quite curious so- he may not be able to let it go."

"I can handle the prince myself Lady Annalise do not worry. This secret will die before he learns anything. Trust me."

"Do you- have a lot of practice handling the prince?"

"If I can handle the king I can handle anyone." You shrug. Annalise laughs at that and tugs you towards her bed.

"Well look I've never done any of the proper girlfriend things- let's do some of them tonight." She says.

"Alright but I warn you- as a kid I didn't have many girlfriends either."

"Then we'll figure it out together!" She says excitedly. You laugh a little knowing that it's going to be an interesting night.

~*~*~

"Y/n darling, do you mind getting me more paper? I need to write to my father and I seem to have run out. I'd go myself but- I'm not sure where to find any." Annalise frowns.

"Of course Annalise- I'll be back soon." You say leaving the room quickly. You figure you'll go to the library to grab some from there.

"Y/n." Namjoon calls when you walk out of the library, a stack of paper in hand.

"Yes your highness?"

"Getting some work done?"

"Lady Annalise needed some paper that's all."

"Ah- I have a question actually since I have you here."

"Yes?" You tilt your head.

"Where is it that you said you were from?" Namjoon asks.

"A village not too far away from here."

"Which one?"

"It's small- you probably wouldn't know it."

"Why do you keep your past such a secret?"

"Well because the palace is my home indefinitely. What does it matter where I'm from?"

"There has to be someone who knows-"

"Some of the servants do, yes, and the king knows. I don't quite understand why you care so much though your highness."

"I can't help but wonder why you refuse to tell me. And Lady Annalise- she insists you haven't told her either."

"I haven't told her. Telling her would mean she has to keep it a secret from you and I wouldn't put that kind of strain on your relationship."

"It wouldn't be a strain if you just told me."

"Curiosity killed the cat your highness. You're like a child trying to open a locked door." You scoff.

"If you didn't treat it like a national secret maybe I wouldn't be so curious."

"I wouldn't have to treat it like a national secret if you would stop asking about it."

"I'm going to find out you know."

"Ask your father I'm sure he'll happily tell you." You say sarcastically.

"I could always order you to tell me." He crosses his arms.

"You wouldn't-"

"No- I wouldn't. I'm not a monster."

"Namjoon- I hate to sound dramatic but please stop digging. It really is a matter of life and death." You sigh walking away from him to deliver the paper to Annalise.

"Oh good, you found some." She says when you walk in.

"I did. Sorry for the delay, Namjoon stopped me on the way back." You explain.

"Oh? What for?"

"He's still poking around about my origins that's all."

"I told you he was too curious to drop it." She smiles.

"I know- but I believe I'm more stubborn than he is curious. Especially to protect my family."

"I admire your dedication." Annalise smiles. Dedication- yeah sure. Hopefully, it doesn't backfire.

~*~*~*~

"Y/n, prince Namjoon requests you in the library." One of the guards, Yongguk, says coming into the washroom where you're folding laundry with Leila, a servant.

"The prince wants me in the library, What for?" You frown.

"He didn't say." Yongguk shrugs.

"How- odd." You mutter.

"You've got the favor of the current king- working on the favor of the next one?" Leila jokes.

"I'd hardly say I'm in the favor of the current king." You mutter.

"He treats you well doesn't he?"

"After forcing me away from my family. It's bittersweet at best. And the prince- well there's not much going on there, I'm friends with his fiancee. This is probably about her."

"Well feel free to update me."

"You're such a gossip." You scoff.

"Y/n- we should be going." Yongguk says.

"Of course- let's go." You say following him to the library.

"He was near the back when he sent for you." Yongguk tells you. You nod and walk towards the back of the library as instructed. You find Namjoon standing over a larger table in the back.

"You wanted to see me Your Highness?"

"Y/n- come here." He waves you towards him. You walk over and quirk an eyebrow at the map splayed on the table.

"Brushing up on your cartography skills prince?"

"I've marked all the nearest villages that are within a day's ride of the palace."

"What for?"

"To find out where you are from of course. I've already ruled out these two closest to the palace."

"Why?" You ask.

"You go to the markets in these villages all the time- it wouldn't make sense to go to villages in your hometown if you don't see your family. I've also ruled out this one."

"Okay- why?"

"The only way to get there within a day is by boat. As for this one, your friend in the kitchen, Yoongi, he is from this village and I know you met him here so I'm sure you're not from there and this one- well it's within a day technically but the trip itself would take almost the whole day just to get there and something tells me that's much farther than what you meant by 'nearby villages'. Which only leaves these two as possiblities." Namjoon explains.

"I admire your detective work but there are flaws in your reasoning for some. I've only gone to the markets in one of those two villages- this one, so I could be from the other. I never said I lived a day's ride by horse but I'll let you have that one. I'm not from the one that's a day by boat. As for Yoongi- he grew up here in the palace so we very well could be from the same village and have never met before I got here. So- while you successfully ruled out 3 of them- you definitely have more than two possibilities left." You say.

"I don't understand why you won't just tell me."

"I don't understand why you need to know so badly. Even after I've told you it's dangerous! There are lives at risk here and maybe that means nothing to you but it is important to me. For the sake of my life, for the sake of my family's lives prince Namjoon drop it." You huff leaving the library without another word. This situation could absolutely not get worse. You stomp into the kitchen.

"Woah- what's got you all red in the face?" Yoongi asks when you sit down.

"Namjoon has made it his personal mission to find out where I am from and no matter how many times I tell him bad things will happen if he keeps trying to dredge up the past he refuses to leave it alone."

"To be fair it's not like he knows the gravity of the situation- and you can't even put it into perspective without giving him more information that you're not supposed to give him." Yoongi says.

"You would think telling him lives are at stake would be enough."

"I'd bet he thinks you're being dramatic in order to keep him from finding out the truth."

"The whole thing is driving me insane Yoongi. I thought it was ridiculous when he was just curious in passing about me- now it's turned into a full investigation. He pulled out a map and marked villages and everything."

"Woah- gotta admire the commitment." Yoongi snorts.

"No- we don't admire any of it."

"Oh come on- it's a little impressive."

"I'm sure it's impressive when your family isn't threatened by the very chance that he finds out the truth."

"Well- it's not like he's going to figure it out, even with his fancy map."

"I can only hope." You say. Yoongi pulls you into a hug.

"Everything will be okay." He says softly.

~*~*~*~

"Y/n- could we go riding today?" Annalise asks.

"You'd like to go riding?"

"If it's possible." She nods.

"I can't imagine why not. Do you want me to get Namjoon?"

"I was hoping it could just be the two of us today."

"Of course. I'll just run and ask the stablehands to prepare horses for us and once I return we can get on." You say.

"Sounds good." Annalise nods. With that, you rush over to the stables and ask them to prepare two horses for you and Annalise then grab your riding boots and return to Annalise's room.

"They're preparing the horses- we can head out as soon as you're ready to go." You tell her sitting down to quickly tug on your boots quickly.

"I'm ready- we can go." Annalise says excitedly.

"Alright then let's get going. If we're lucky no one will stop us on the way," You tell her as you leave her room with Annalise behind you.

The two of you ride for a couple of hours chatting about random things to pass the time. When Annalise has grown tired of riding the two of you return to the stables.

"That was so much fun!" Annalise raves as she climbs off of her horse.

"Horse riding is pretty fun yes." You chuckle. Annalise loops her arm through yours as you return to the palace. Annalise seems very happy with herself following your ride. As you're returning to Annalise's room a familiar voice says something that makes you stop dead in your tracks.

"Lotus flower!"

***

Part 7/???

[j-j-ehlby-writes]

Almost (c.e.)

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Word Count: ~5.9k

Summary: You and Chris were set up on a blind date by your mutual friends. Sparks flew, but you never heard from him again. Two years later, you come face-to-face with him once more for their friends wedding.

Warnings: Some angst, swearing, not much else

A/N: This is a mixture of the movie “Life as We Know It” (mmm Daddy Josh Duhamel 🤤), a dating experience I had, and one scene from One Tree Hill. Enjoy.

My Masterlist

                    Two years ago…

My heart is pounding all the way to my ears. My hands are shaking under the table. My knee bounces uncontrollably as I wait.

I knew this was a bad idea. Why did I let her convince me to do this?

“You haven’t had a boyfriend for as long as I’ve known you.” My best friend so pointedly mentioned when we were out to lunch last week.

 “What’s wrong with that?” I counter.

“I’ve known you for three and a half years.” She deadpans. Even without looking at her, I know she has her eyebrow raised at me and her lips are pursed.

“Your point?” I know she thinks my serious lack of companionship these past few years is wearing on me, but it’s been quite the opposite. Not being attached is freeing. I can do what I want when I want; I don’t have anyone to answer to. If I want to sleep until 3 on a Saturday, I’m going to do it. If I don’t want to socialize with anyone, I won’t. If I want to take a spontaneous road trip, I’m going to do it. My life is my own and that’s how I like it.

“I want my best friend to have someone to experience life with.”

My shoulders dropped, sighing in defeat. There was no way I was getting out of this conversation.

“I want you to be as happy as I am.” I see the love in her eyes as her mind goes to her boyfriend and their new relationship. They’ve only been together for a few months, but I know that this is it for her. She’s a smitten kitten and he is equally as infatuated with her. They’re sickeningly cute. “Which is why I think you need to meet one of his friends-”

“Lemme stop you right there,” I interrupt her, “I hate blind dates.”

“You’ve never been on one.”

“And there’s a reason for that.” She rolled her eyes at me. “They’re cliché, they’re awkward for both parties, and they never amount to anything, thus being a total waste of time.”

She sighed, “Ever the skeptic.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

“Regardless,” she continues, “I think you’ll really like this guy. He’s already expressed interest in you.”

Like that makes everything better. “Great so now I have to live up to his impossible expectations of me when I know absolutely nothing about him.” As if the idea of a blind date wasn’t bad enough, now it’s only a semi-blind date. There’s no doubt in my mind that she has hyped me up impossibly high, that’s what a best friend is for. However, when your confidence level is next to none and already skeptical of the pending meeting, there’s no way he’ll like who I am in reality.

“I can tell you anything you want to know about him.” She is bargaining with me. She really wants me to meet this guy. She wouldn’t be trying this hard if she didn’t believe we would hit it off.

“Well is he nice?” This was the only real question I had. If he isn’t kind then there’s really no future.

“Incredibly!” She continues to tell me of the many things he has done for a charity he started a few years ago and slowly but surely she was starting to convince me. If he was that generous then he has to have a good heart and therefore is a good man.

How bad could it be?

I check my phone, glancing at the time. Great, he’s late. That can’t be a good start.

Numerous reasons why popped into my head.

Reason one: he saw me and bolted.

Reason two: he got into an accident on the way here and he could be in the hospital.

Reason three: he changed his mind and decided to stand me up.

More and more played through my head as I sipped my drink. 

By the time I was on my second drink, I was convinced he wasn’t showing up. I knew this was a ridiculous idea. I knew I shouldn’t have done this. I never should have listened to her.

I chugged the rest of my drink followed by some water before standing up to leave some cash. I was slightly humiliated for actually thinking this would be any different than all of my expectations.

My shoulder rammed into another as I turned to leave.

“Oh my, God, I’m so sorry!” A hand steadied me, gently grabbing the shoulder he ran into. “Are you okay?”

“My already small ego is a little bruised, but I think I’ll live.” I looked up to meet my assaulter’s eyes and immediately I froze.

Holy shit, it’s Chris Evans.

His piercing blue eyes were staring right at me, his concern was directed towards me. In all of his charming, ray of sunshine, bearded glory, he was here.

“I’m so sorry that I’m late. Traffic was insane over the bridge. I would have called but I don’t have your number.” He half-smirked but not in a cocky way. I’d seen him do it in interviews before. He could have come up with a lame excuse, but somehow I knew he was telling the truth.

“No, it’s okay. I understand completely.”

He sighed in relief, his gorgeous and perfect smile taking over his features. He looked down at the table and it disappeared. “Were you leaving?”

“Uh,” I stammered, “I was because I thought I was being stood up.”

“I feel awful. Please let me make it up to you. Let’s sit down, have a nice dinner, and get to know each other.”

I hesitate, now even more nervous than I was before.

As if sensing my hesitation, he decided to sweeten the pot a bit to persuade me, “We can even get dessert.”

I chuckle at his attempt. That’ll do it though. I sit back down with him following suit, finally starting our date.

We talked about everything. Anything and everything. No topic was off limits. Hours went by but it felt like minutes. We didn’t even know how long we’d been there until our waiter came to tell us that the restaurant was closed. We left and walked around the city until the night sky was giving way to the morning. He accompanied me back to my car, gave me the best hug I’ve ever received and a kiss on the cheek, promising we’ll get together again soon, and opening and closing my car door for me. I drove away with the biggest smile on my face and literal butterflies in my stomach. That was the best date I’d ever been on.

When I made it back to my apartment with the early morning rays peeking through my shades, I had a text message waiting for me from him. Just a simple good night, he had had an amazing time, and he couldn’t wait to see me again.

I fell asleep, hopeful. Hopeful that I would see him again, that this could maybe go somewhere. I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but it was hard not to. I hadn’t felt this way in an exceptionally long time. I haven’t been on this good of a date in equally as long. I can’t wait to see him again…

                      Present day...

I finally pull into the parking lot after an hour stuck in traffic. My 12-hour day at work today has taken a lot out of me. I’m exhausted, mentally and physically. Thankfully though, my 2-week-long vacation starts tomorrow. After that, I have fourteen days of no working, no getting up at the ass crack of dawn to be able to drive in miserable traffic, no dealing with difficult or boring co-workers. Just fourteen days of rest and relaxation, after the wedding of course.

My best friend and her fiancé are getting married on Saturday. I’ve watched them go through all of their highs and lows throughout the last few years and when he came to me telling me he planned on proposing, I couldn’t have been happier for them. He even asked me to secretly photograph the moment for her. She was more than surprised about everything.

Now their wedding is here and everyone couldn’t be more excited to celebrate them.

Tomorrow is their rehearsal dinner. The wedding party and their plus ones are all invited.

I walk into my apartment, immediately relieving myself from the confines of my shoes. A heavenly scent registers to me and I’m carried all the way to the kitchen. I see my sexy boyfriend standing at the stove with his back towards me.

“Hey babe,” he calls without turning around.

I hum, happily making my way towards him. I wrap my arms around his waist, placing a kiss on his back. “What is that unbelievable smell?”

He chuckles, vibrating through his chest. “Your favorite, of course.”

I hum again, “You spoil me, baby.”

He chuckles again, turning in my arms. His handsome face finally came into view. His gorgeous brown eyes look into mine as I get lost in his. For the past year, I’ve been the happiest I’ve been in a while. Since the day I met him, it was like everything fell into place. He’s sweet, ambitious, funny, kindhearted, passionate, and just overall the best man I had ever met. He makes me so happy…

Oh who am I kidding? He’s perfect. He is everything I ever wanted. If I made a list of all of the qualities I wanted in a husband, he would check off every single box.

But the feelings I have had for him over the last year are nothing compared to what I had in one night for him. I find myself wishing his eyes were bright blue instead of dark brown. I wish his arms were around me instead of the ones around me right now. The butterflies from that night have stayed dormant ever since.

I don’t know what happened after that night. I honestly thought we had a good time that night. Conversations flowed seamlessly. We made each other laugh so hard we had tears running down our faces. The physical connection was there- at first he had his arm around my shoulders as we walked around town, but as time went on he slowly moved lower around my waist, eventually intertwining our hands together until we arrived back at our cars. He even said that he wanted to see me again.

But I never heard from him again after that one text message. No call, no text, not even a message from my friend’s boyfriend. Nothing. I was disappointed beyond belief. I didn’t think he was that guy: the type to ditch someone without any explanation or goodbye. I thought I understood him to be a gentleman. Everything I had read about him pointed to him being one of the purest humans in the world. This was the opposite of all of that.

From that day on, I’ve loathed him. He gave me the perfect evening and then cut me off cold turkey from anything further. I have a three strike rule. His first: he was late. His second: he tricked me into liking him. His third: he lied to me. Three strikes and he’s out.

I have tried not to look back since. It’s not without its difficulties though since he’s literally everywhere. On magazine covers, in commercials, movie trailers, streaming services- he’s there. Why did he have to be such a successful actor? If he weren’t, it would make for forgetting him that much easier.

No closure. No answers. Nothing.

The rehearsal dinner went smoothly the next night which hopefully was foreshadowing for the big day itself. 

A majority of us were standing around about to start when the doors loudly being opened drew everyone’s attention away from our milling about. A man stood in the middle of the doorway then strode in like he owned the place. The closer he got, the more the details of his face came into focus.

No. Freaking. Way.

I look toward my best friend. She looked like she wasn’t shocked he was late, but she knew he was coming. I creep up behind her and clear my throat. Instantly she cringed.

“Did you forget to tell me something?” I whisper to her.

She sends me an apologetic smile, “Well, I actually put off telling you ‘cause I didn’t know how you would react and then I meant to tell you last night but with the whole ‘I’m getting married in two days’ buzz took over and now the rehearsal is here-”

“Just please tell me I’m not walking in with him.” I beg.

She chuckles nervously before she escaped to go greet him with her fiancé.

I turn to her sister who is also one of my closest friends. “Did you know he was going to be a groomsman?”

The guilt written in her face tells me everything I need to know. “She made me promise not to tell you.”

I groan, “The loyalty level around here is staggeringly low.”

I head over to where my boyfriend is standing and take comfort in his arms before I have to deal with the man who broke my heart.

“Are you okay?” He asks a little confused by my actions.

I nod, “Just tired from last night.” He chuckles at the mention of the night before, squeezing me into his chest.

“Alright everyone! Time to get started.” The wedding coordinator beckons us all to the back entrance of the barn standing next to our corresponding wedding party member. I stand right in front of the Maid of Honor and Best Man. I kept my eyes forward focusing on anything but the guy who took his place next to me.

“It’s good to see you,” He murmurs to me over the instructions of the coordinator.

I scoff and roll my eyes. He has the nerve to say that to me after two years of silence. I imagined a million times what it would be like to see him again. I’d imagined a lot of screaming with possible hitting. Or I thought about the ever-effective, old fashioned silent treatment. He doesn’t deserve to know that our one night out together effected me so much and I’ve carried a rather large torch for him ever since. At the very moment, it will be the latter, but there’s no telling what tonight and tomorrow will bring.

“Now ladies, rest- don’t grab- your hand near the crook of his arm. Men, keep your arm at that angle with an open hand resting on your stomach- no fist. And don’t forget to smile- this is a happy day!” As quickly as he showed up, the coordinator was on to the bride and her father before either of us could register he was there.

I begrudgingly did as I was instructed, “resting” my hand on his bare forearm, holding a stand-in bouquet for the occasion in my other hand.

“Are you not going to talk to me?” He speaks again but I ignore him once more.

Thankfully that was when it was our turn to walk down the aisle. For the rest of the rehearsal, he didn’t get a chance to say anything else. As soon as we were done, I go straight for my boyfriend. I figured there’s no way he would approach me if I were with another man.

We all head to the restaurant afterwards to celebrate the last night before our friends begin their lives together as husband and wife. I keep my distance from Chris, always sticking close with my boyfriend.

The one moment I was alone was when I went to the bathroom. I thought for the few minutes I wouldn’t be in danger.

However I was wrong.

As soon as I step out an arm shot out in front of me. A very pale muscular arm.

“Are you seriously going to ignore me for the next two days?”

I duck under his arm fully planning on continuing what I set out to do.

“Y/N,” he grabs my arm, “will you please talk to me? What did I do to make you so mad at me?”

I whip around hopefully sending daggers his way. “Are you serious right now?”

“She finally speaks!” He exclaims.

“Because I cannot believe what I’m hearing. Like, I don’t think I heard you right.” All of the feelings I’ve been burying for two years were making their way up to the surface and I don’t think I can stop them. “We had a fantastic night. It was literally the best night of my life, it was the most comfortable with a guy that I had ever been. You made me laugh, you gave me butterflies, you helped me feel for the first time in years.” I try to swallow down the lump that was forming in my throat. “You told me you wanted to see me again. You made me excited for the future for once in my life… and then you took it away.”

With every second that passed, his expression got closer and closer to utter defeat: his shoulders slumped, his grip on my arm loosened, his jaw slowly unclenched, his eyebrows furrowed.

“You were late,” I hold up one finger, “You tricked me,” two fingers,” “You lied to me.” Three fingers were up and in front of his face for emphasis. “Three strikes and you’re out.”

I back away from him, having nothing more I wanted to say. As soon as I turned the corner, I felt liberated… for about five seconds. When that passed, devastation hit. For the last two years, I’ve held out hope- I tried not to- but I did, that maybe someday something could happen between us. That maybe, just maybe, we could pick up where we left off that night.

Now that the moment of confrontation has come and gone, I feel all the hope fade away. All of those possibilities I pictured have left the building. Being with him is no longer an option. I have my boyfriend who makes me happy, who gives me everything I could possibly want.

The rest of the night went on without another incident. Chris kept his distance. However, I could feel his eyes on me for every second that passed as we sat at the table. It was a relief when we finally left and could retreat back to our hotel rooms for the night. The bride and I got to stay in a suite that we’ll all be getting ready in in the morning. They wanted to uphold the “not seeing each other the night before the wedding,” even though they’ve lived with each other for a year and a half now.

On the wedding day, everything went according to plan. Everyone was on time to hair and make-up, pictures went flawlessly, the weather cooperated with everything, Chris didn’t attempt to talk to me at all- it was a perfect day to watch two people who love each other commit to the other for the rest of their lives.

But then came the reception. That’s when I knew apparently all bets would be off. The ceremony was over. Niceties would wear off as more and more alcohol is consumed. I was not looking forward to it.

We make our ridiculous entrances and take our seats at the head table. We eat then speeches were made. Lots of laughs were had as the Best Man dished on stories he had with the groom growing up, a few tears were shed at her sister’s after recounting the moment the bride knew he was the man of her dreams- overall I’d say they were a success.

Again, I felt his eyes on me, burning holes in the side of my head from the other side of the groom for the entire dining portion of the evening. I kept myself from glancing in his direction, instead focusing on the conversations with the bride’s sister next to me and my boyfriend who is across the way- anything not to meet his eyes.

Finally the DJ announces it was time for all to convene on the dancefloor after the specialty dances. I immediately see my boyfriend start to stand, knowing he’d been ready for this all night. I’d been looking forward to dancing with him all night as well, I even removed my shoes in anticipation. As I stand up, a hand is held out in front of me. I knew whose hand it was. I remember staring at it as he would rub his lips on our date. The strength of it as it intertwined with mine as we walked down the streets of our town, the safeness I felt as he squeezed it if he detected I was getting anxious around a group of people and I needed the reassurance. I knew that hand well, unfortunately.

“Dance with me?” He nearly whispers in my ear. I didn’t realize he was that close until I could feel said whisper on my neck. I contain the shiver that runs down my spine at how husky his voice is. God I’ve missed that…

No! I will not be enchanted by him again. He does not deserve me.

I exhale the breath I was holding, it comes out a lot harsher than I expected. “No, thank you.” I turn away from him, but his hand gently grabs my arm stopping me from going any further.

He whispers again, “He’s not good enough for you,” before walking away.

I’m frozen in place. I glare at his retreating back as he makes his way over to the bar. My mouth hangs open in disbelief. How dare he… How fucking dare he assume anything about me or my relationship. He doesn’t know anything about what our relationship is like. My boyfriend treats me so well, spoils me even though I know I don’t deserve it. He listens to me, he cares about me, and he makes me laugh until I cry- he’s everything I’ve wanted in a man. Chris is the one who had his chance and subsequently blew it. He has no right to judge or even comment on my relationship when he knows absolutely nothing about it.

I hurriedly make my way to my awaiting boyfriend and pull him onto the crowded dancefloor. “You okay?” He asks me, “Did he say something to upset you?”

“Nothing worth repeating.” All I wanted to do was forget about him and his irrelevant feelings towards my relationship…

…Except I couldn’t. His words rattled me. Does he see something I don’t? He told me on our date that he’s an excellent judge of character so he wouldn’t say something like that unless he got a bad feeling, right? Either that or he said it just to get under my skin and force me to talk to him. No matter the reason I hate him for it because my pride won’t let it stand.

I spot him leaning against the bar, staring directly at the two of us over the rim of his glass. His perfect eyebrow quirks up at the eye contact, that sets my blood to boiling. He thinks he’s so smug. I wish I could just slap that stupid hidden smirk right off his perfect face…

Following a few dances, I mutter something about him going to dance with the bride to my boyfriend before exiting the dancefloor. I rush out of the barn, away from the crowd needing some air from his suffocating gaze. I find a little lit area that’s perfect for pictures. There are rectangular hay bales set together as a makeshift U-shaped bench with some low watt bulbs strung up above between two poles. It would be serene if I weren’t already on edge.

After taking a few deep breaths, I finally feel like I can speak without yelling. “You had no right.”

I didn’t have to turn around to know he followed me out here. It’s exactly what I wanted him to do, just like it was his intention to get under my skin. As much as I wished to avoid this conversation it seems that we can’t go on without it. We may tear each other apart in the process, but this is my chance for closure. This is my only opportunity to get the answers I’ve been needing to move on for the past two years. Two years of wondering what went wrong after the most perfect date I’ve ever been on with an equally perfect man has been eating at my heart and mind. I hated always wondering “what if” or “what would I be doing right now if I were with him” especially when I started dating my boyfriend. I had no answers as to why those questions could not be. I thought with time I’d stop asking them, thinking I’d never see the man again. He’s a big movie star, why would he wonder about a woman he went on one date with?

As I expected, his deep baritone voice comes behind me, but his words do little to ease my nerves. In fact they set them off even more so than before. “I’m sorry.”

I scoff at his half-hearted apology, knowing he doesn’t mean it at all. “Oh bite me, Christopher.” I turn around to face him. God he looks even better out here. The subtle gold glow from the lights are complimenting his skin tone, they make his baby blues shine which just frustrates me more.

“Please, Y/N,-” He takes a step closer to me, but I won’t have that. 

“No,” I take a step back keeping the needed distance between us for fear I may strangle him. “I don’t want to hear any of your bullshit excuses. You had no right to pass judgment on a relationship that you know absolutely nothing about.”

He slips his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. “Oh, I’ve seen enough.”

“Really?” I jut my hip out, resting my hand on it. “In the two days you’ve been here, you think you’ve got us all figured out?”

“Yes,” he answers with conviction. 

My shaking hands clench into fists, trying my damnedest not to lose control. I entangle them into my hair as best as I can without ruining the work the hairstylist did this morning before running them down my face. He has some nerve. 

“We had one night. One night! One nearly perfect night together and suddenly that makes you an expert on what is good for me?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘an expert’-”

“I wouldn’t say anything!” I interrupt, “I never heard from you again. Now after two years, you come in here acting like you know anything about me or my relationship? Who do you think you are?”

“A man who made a mistake!” He snaps.

There was a long pause. I never expected to hear that from him. All these years I wanted to think the worst of him for leaving me hanging like that. He got my hopes up, thinking we may have a future together only for them to come crashing back down to Earth when he never contacted me again. I wondered and wondered if maybe I read the signals wrong. Maybe I took his flirting as more than it was. Maybe the small gestures like his arm around my shoulders, on the small of my back, or the hand holding were only him being friendly. I wracked my brain going over every single detail of the night to try and pinpoint a reason for him not to have called me afterwards. I found nothing, which was equally as frustrating.

“Alright, I made a mistake.” He moves to sit on one of the hay bales. He rests his elbows on his knees and buries his head in his hands, letting out a huge sigh. “God I wanted everything with you.”

Once again, I’m frozen by his words. He what? But that doesn’t make sense. His words and his actions don’t line up- how could that be?

He removes his hands from his face, staring at the grass. “After that night, I wanted it all. I wanted to settle down, get the house with a white picket fence in the suburbs, carry you through the threshold after our wedding day, bring our children home from the hospital, watch them grow until we’re old and gray. I wanted everything.”

My heart aches. All of that was exactly what I wanted, especially with him. I could feel the tears building behind my eyes, my heart breaking mourning the loss of what we could have had by now if he had only said something.

I also find my anger growing as well. If he felt all of that, why did he not contact me again? Why did he give me hope that our night out together could have been the start of something good and then taken it away just as quickly?

“But?” There had to be a “but” coming after his statement. Clearly something stopped him from pursuing the possibility of “us,” destroying any future we could have had.

He sighs, “but…” he finally looks up at me with more emotion in his eyes than I was expecting. There was contemplation, confusion, honesty, agony…

I look away. In an instant I knew what he was about to say. It makes complete sense. He was at the height of his career, shooting movie after movie all around the world for a majority of the year. How would he have had time to have a relationship mixed in with that? He couldn’t.

“Your career was more important,” I interject, “I get it. I do.” I couldn’t fault him for choosing work over someone he just met, no matter how much he claims to have liked me right off the bat. He was going to be busy. We probably wouldn’t have had a lot of time to see each other. It’s not like I could give up my career to follow him. Besides even if I could have, he wouldn’t want that. He said so himself. He wanted someone who was independent; who could do their own thing and not be enveloped in his crazy life.

He stands up and steps closer to me, “no, that wasn’t it. I promise you that wasn’t it.”

There’s that word. Promise. He promised we’d see each other again soon after our night together. But he broke that.

“Then what was it?” My voice cracks at the end. I can feel my reserves slipping the more he speaks. I didn’t realize how much I missed his voice until now. I haven’t seen any of the movies he’s been in the last few years. I have him and his hashtag blocked on all social media platforms so I don’t see anything of his on any of my timelines. My other friends think I don’t like him (only my best friend and her now husband know about our date). To hear it again brings back all of the good memories we made together in that short night and all of the emotions I’ve been holding back since. “I have been wracking my brain for years wondering what went wrong after that.”

“I got scared,” he finally admits the truth. “I got scared of how much I liked you and how much I wanted to protect you.”

“From what?”

“From me,” he casts his gaze down at his hands as he fidgets with them, “and my life. I didn’t want to subject you to the chaos that is my life. I know what my fans would do to you if we were in a relationship, I was trying to protect you from all of the ugly that being with me comes with.”

So that’s what he was afraid of? He was afraid our relationship would inevitably end exactly like his last one? His “fans” were horrible to her. They sent death threats to her and her family members, always commenting negatively on her social media pages all because she was dating him. I remember reading about it right after it happened. I knew that side of his fandom was toxic. But did I care? No. Did I think I couldn’t handle it? I honestly don’t know, but would I have been willing to deal with it for him? Yes. I would have given up anything to be with him. That’s precisely why he did what he did. He didn’t want me giving anything up for him because he knows I’d be giving up any semblance of privacy I had if I were in a public relationship with him.

If I had known these were the reasons why he ghosted me, I would have been broken hearted but I would have understood. Hell, I probably would have fallen more in love with him if I knew that, not fallen in loathe.

He continues, “I thought that if I never contacted you again, you could move on”- he clears his throat-“and find someone better than me who could give you the normal life you deserve. Which as much as I wish I couldn’t, I see that you have…” he pauses as if deciding whether he should keep speaking. When I don’t stop him, he does, “But I can’t help feeling like that could have been me.”

My slightly shaky hands cover his fidgeting ones. His hand moves until he’s intertwining our fingers together, palms touching. They fit perfectly together as if they were each other’s missing puzzle piece. His thumbs stroke mine sending warmth down my arms all the way down to my toes. The sparks I felt back then return with full force. He leans down, pressing his forehead against mine. My heart is beating out of my chest, I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t feel it in some way.

I feel my heart break in my chest. My lip quivers and the tears threaten to make themselves known. My only saving grace is the fact that he can’t see my face. I may lose it completely if he did.

His breath is coming out equally as shaky between us, he squeezes my hands as if he doesn’t want me to let go. Believe me, I don’t want to. I bring one of our interlocked hands up to my lips. I kiss the back of his hand because I can’t kiss him where I want to. I pull back just enough to see his beautiful baby blues that could have any woman in the world swoon. They were terribly bloodshot right now but that only made them more tragically breathtaking. I tear one of my hands out of his and bring it to his cheek. He leans into it, a tear drops into the crevices between the contact.

The barely above whisper that came out was all I could muster without having a total breakdown because he’s right. It could have been him. We could have been something great. We could have built a life together. We could have had it all. And it broke my heart into a million pieces knowing all of this could have been avoided if life had handed both of us different lives.

“It almost was.”

~*~

Taglist: @the-marvel-wars​ @elusive-beauty​ @drakesfiance @im-a-slut-for-an-accent​ @fantasy-is-my-reality​ @princess-evans-addict​

[whythinktoomuch]

Tentatively stepping through the doorway, Lena was greeted by the natural wintry gleam of the Fortress of Solitude. She had only been there that one time all those months ago, but the surroundings appeared familiar enough, seemingly burned into her memories as a particularly difficult flashbulb of an experience.

Cold. Dimmed lighting. Wide open spaces that gave off the illusion of emptiness despite holding some of the most important secrets to be kept in the world.

And in the middle of it all, stood Kara Danvers, still dressed in her Super regalia, staring off into the distance like little else mattered.

“Kara.” Lena rushed forward, the clack of her heels bouncing off the polished walls in an anxious rhythm that rivaled that of her heart.

Kara looked over, blank expression slipping slightly. “Lena?” she murmured, sounding surprised, though not at all startled. “How’d you get out?”

“… Out?” Lena echoed, but Kara didn’t elaborate. Maybe the disconnect was to be expected though, and there were more important things at stake for the moment, so, “Kara, you need to come back.”

“Back.” Kara chewed on the word, tasting the implications like they weren’t quite to her liking. Then she gave a single nod. “Oh. I see.” And with that, Kara turned her back on Lena and walked right off, right into the distance that gradually converged into a yawning doorway.

--

Lena had no choice but to chase after her. “I know why you’re doing this, Kara. And you have to know that it wasn’t your fault. None of it was.”

Kara didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. Her silence was already speaking volumes just by stretching on and on, running parallel to the seemingly never-ending hallway.

“Will you at least explain what you’re doing here?” Lena demanded, her patience eaten up by a sense of urgency that was somehow eluding Kara. Time was of the utmost importance—that much had been impressed upon her repeatedly and emphatically before she made this journey. “Look, I’m not going to leave until you talk to me.”

Mild amusement flitted over Kara’s features as she looked back at Lena. “How’d you even get here?”

“Does it matter?”

“No.”

Then when Kara made no move to continue their conversation, Lena sighed in exasperation, “I have my ways, okay?”

“Of course you do,” Kara said easily. “I’m just… surprised that they’d send you, of all people.”

“I volunteered to come. Well, I insisted anyway.”

Kara glanced back at her again, expression now unreadable. “We’re not even friends anymore,” she said, matter-of-fact, no malice intended or needed. “We haven’t talked for—what—six months? I guess what I’m trying to say is that, you wouldn’t have been my first pick.”

“And I’m sure the many people who were opposed to my coming here would agree,” Lena said, but Kara didn’t take the bait, falling silent once more. “Where are we going anyway? What’s down here that’s so important that you have to see it right now?”

Kara took an abrupt left turn, and the hallway opened up just as abruptly into an endless series of shut doors, all evenly spaced out along either wall. Each door was fashioned with its own nameplate, which was of little interest to Lena until she started recognizing the names. By then—trailing behind Kara, passing by doors that read James, Winn, Kal-El, and a few with lettering that could only be Kryptonian—it became all too clear why they were there.

Lena’s sense of purpose was renewed, however, when Kara walked right past a door labeled Alex without slowing. “Wait, that’s where we have to go,” she called out in realization. “We need to get to Alex, right? Right, Ka—Kara! Hey, where are you going?”

But Kara evidently wasn’t listening, her stride only cut short upon arriving at another door altogether. The door was plain and simple enough, except in that it was one of the very few without its own handle. The name Mon-El was etched into the dull gold, just barely catching in the light at eye level.

“They disappear sometimes,” Kara said. “The doorknobs, I mean. Well, the doors too, but there’s always another to replace them so… it’s hard to keep track.”

Lena tried her best to not acknowledge the predictable twinge of nausea that twisted in her stomach. “What’s in there?”

“When I could still open it, I’d just see his spaceship disappearing into the horizon.” Kara shrugged. “I’m sure there were other things too, but it’s been years.”

“… Kara, let’s get back to Alex’s door,” Lena said, clearing her throat, ridding herself of any lingering pangs of unjustified jealousy. “It still has a doorknob, so we can still get in there, right? That’s what that means?” But Kara was ignoring her. Again. “Are you even listening to me right now?”

“You say that to me a lot in here.”

And just as Lena was about to ask what the hell Kara possibly could mean by that, she noticed yet another door, just a bit farther down the hall, literally with her name on it.

“You can go in there, I think,” Kara continued, shrugging again. “There aren’t really any hard and fast rules here, but that might be the only door you can open without me.”

Lena, inevitably, took a pause.

Her door appeared more intricate the longer she studied it. The rich, glossy oak with accents of rose gold. The plumerias carved into the wood at every corner. A touch of cursive to her name, lovingly engraved across the polished nameplate. It had a delicate padlock that looked more decorative than practical, but Lena already knew that it would fall away for her, if she wanted.

Admittedly, it took a rather lengthy moment for Lena to successfully tear her eyes away from the door. “That’s not why I’m here.”

“Well, there isn’t much else I can give you besides that,” Kara said, promptly moving on, venturing deeper into the hallway that only opened up to more and more hallway with a seemingly inexhaustible supply of doors.

“Kara, stop…” Lena abandoned her door to chase after Kara again. “I’m serious,” she pleaded, seizing Kara by the elbow, tugging insistently. “Let’s go through the Alex door. We can go together.”

Kara shook her head, shaking her arm when Lena refused to loosen her grip. “Let go,” she snapped, eyes briefly flashing red, and Lena unfortunately flinched away from her. Huffing hard, Kara then pivoted away, slipping through the closest door and Lena slipped in right after her before it could swing shut.

The whole world was on fire.

Proud buildings coming down in flames. Air condensed into a thick black smoke. Everyone dying around her…

Coughing, Lena was immediately forced to press her sleeve to her mouth and nose. The door was nowhere to be seen. After a more thorough survey of her surroundings, she finally noticed a slumped figure in the relative distance. It was hard to make out anything in the light of the fading red that made up the sky, but who else could it be? Lena made her way over.

Thankfully, Kara wasn’t too far. She was just sitting atop a darkened precipice, arms around her knees as she watched the world die before her.

“This…. is Krypton,” Lena said as she realized. “Kara. You can’t stay here. This can’t be healthy…”

“And you, of course, would be the resident expert on keeping healthy habits,” Kara said, and her sarcasm didn’t even need a bitter tone to land.

And that about settled it.

Lena grabbed a piece of smoldering debris—still warm, somewhat spongey, surely not fatal—and lobbed it as hard as she could at the back of Kara’s head.

The projectile bounced off harmlessly enough, but Kara slowly turned around, eyes widened. “Ow…?” She pressed a hand gingerly to the back of her head, no doubt still tender from the blow. “What are you doing? The sun isn’t yellow here!”

“None of this is even real!” Lena snapped, and to prove it, she lifted a much larger piece of debris that normally would have buckled her with its mass. When she sent that hunk of rock sailing through the air, Kara finally demonstrated some life and dove out of the way.

“What the hell, Lena?” Kara said, some frustration and thus vigor breaking through the monotony. “What are you doing here? Why did you even come?”

“I want to see what’s behind Alex’s door!” Lena threw back, just as frustrated and then some. “What is this, Kara? Behind one door, you see your home planet imploding. Behind another, you see the man you loved leaving you forever. So, what the hell could possibly be happening in the one for your sister? Whose life, by the way, is still hanging in the balance, in case you forgot.”

Kara huffed, whirling away. “That’s none of your business.”

“You made it my business by fucking off to wherever this is,” Lena said, fighting to maintain eye contact as Kara tried repeatedly to turn her back on her. “You made it my business by making me come after you! So, just do me one fucking favor, and just tell me—”

“I kill her.”

Lena fell silent, blinking, the soundtrack to her sudden hesitation coming alive in the sounds of the world burning up around her.

“I kill her in there. Over and over and over again.” Kara’s words were falling out like she couldn’t stop them, an outpouring of shame and relief rolled into one. “She dies by my hand, only to die all over again, and again, and—”

“Okay, I get it,” Lena hastily cut in. “Well, no. I don’t get it, get it, but… what do you mean you kill her? How…?”

Kara covered her face with a sharp exhale. “Lots of ways! Heat vision. Super strength. Sometimes I’m just throwing her off a building. Other times, I’m choking the life out of her with my bare….” She broke off, voice drying up. “I don’t want to go in there, okay? Stop asking me.”

“Kara, this… this is ridiculous,” Lena eventually sputtered. “Alex isn’t dead. She’s hurt bad, yeah, but how could you possibly give up on her when—”

“Because it doesn’t matter,” Kara said flatly. “Because if not now, it’ll be some other time. She’ll die, and it’s going to be all my fault.”

“But what happened to her isn’t your fault.”

Kara sighed, heavily and exhausted, and suddenly she looked every bit the lonely woman who’d lost everything in a way only few people have. “Lena… Everything down here’s my fault.”

Her entire body sagged then, and she was back on the ground, curled up and watching the horizon again. So, Lena just walked over and sat next to her.

Everything was steadily plunging into darkness. There were more cracks ripping apart the earth than there were buildings, people, or even life in general. The fire climbed higher and everything was smothered in smoke, but all Lena had to do was consider taking a clean breath of air, and she could.

“What happens when it’s over?” Lena asked.

“Just starts up all over again.”

“Okay then.”

After a while, when the sky was too obscured to distinguish from the ground, Kara directed her gaze to her own feet. “… You ever think about what yours would look like?”

“My mind palace, you mean?” Lena asked, and Kara nodded. “Oh, I already know. Boxes.”

Kara exhaled a dry chuckle or two. “Boxes? That’s it?”

“Maybe some filing cabinets too. Just to keep everything organized,” Lena said, and she was mostly joking, but also not. “Boxes just always worked for me.”

“… Is there a box in there with my name on it?”

Lena blew out a breath, shakily laughing at the self-evidence of it all. “Of course there is, Kara.” Maybe even more than one, though they didn’t have to get into that now, or ever.  

“Do you want to know what happens behind your door?” Kara asked haltingly, gaze still dropped.

“Not at all. I’m sure whatever it is, I’ve imagined much worse on my own terms,” Lena said, and Kara kinda laughed again, but wouldn't disagree. “… You know what happened to Alex wasn’t your fault, right?”

“Might as well have been. Should’ve been there.”

“You can’t be everywhere at once, Kara. That can’t be expected of anyone, even Supergirl.” And when Kara gave no indication that she was listening, Lena continued with a sigh, “If Alex could be here, she’d say the same exact thing. Though I’m sure she’d include some Midvale lingo and much more swearing.”

“What’s Midvale lingo?”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be above using it right now.”

Kara didn’t laugh this time, just nodded solemnly before asking, “How long have I been in here?”

“You’d been out for almost six hours when I made my way over.”

“Did Alex improve at all while I’ve been gone?”

“That’s not really a thing you can tell just by looking,” Lena said vaguely. She didn’t want to lie, but she also didn’t want to give Kara any reason to stay behind.

But Kara looked at her like she knew exactly what Lena was trying not to say. She’d always been so good at reading Lena, or maybe Lena had always been so bad at hiding things from Kara. Either way, if only it had been vice versa, maybe they’d be on better terms now.

“I don’t want to come back just to watch her die. I’ve already done that too many times in here.”

“If she does die, you’re going to regret not being there.”

The ground underneath them started to crumble and come apart, falling in on itself, and Kara watched it happen with disinterest while Lena just watched Kara. But eventually, finally, Kara seemed to come to a real decision because she carefully took Lena’s hand in hers, and Lena let her.

“… Thank you for coming,” Kara said quietly, barely audible over the world falling apart.

“Thank you for coming back.”

They watched the last of the world collapse around them, swallowing them up in a pitch darkness.

//

Lena jerked awake with a gasp in her corner of the room, but everyone was by Kara, clamoring around her, greeting her with words of worry and such. And Lena just nodded to herself because everything was back to being how it should.

She disengaged the electrodes and pulled the wires off her head, and Brainy appeared by her bedside to help her remove the last of it.

“You were successful,” he said. “I knew you would be. You had the best chances of getting her out of that state, though 67% of the people in this room did think differently. But thank you for bringing her back.”

“I didn’t do a thing,” Lena said honestly. She glanced down at her watch out of habit, and the numbers blurred and made little sense to her weary brain, but it was time to leave. That much was obvious. “It’s late. I should get going.”

“You don’t want to talk to Kara?”

Lena looked over, and just past Nia’s shoulder, she saw Kara staring right at her. “I think she has better things to do tonight,” she said, stepping into her heels, neatly pulling her hair into a tidy bun. “Please give our hero my best, and… keep me apprised of Alex’s condition as well.”

Pausing on her way out, Lena threw back one last glance. Kara was still staring at her. Her mouth was moving and answering questions as they were offered up by the people around her, but her eyes would only meet Lena’s from across the room. Kara half-raised her hand in a subtle gesture, and Lena took the wave for what it was and turned on her heel to leave, refusing to entertain the persistent itch to look back the entire time.

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 16: Tulips

With the possible exception of all of the eighth years getting along and actually becoming friends, regardless of their former rivalries, the first half of Draco's eighth year at Hogwarts was remarkably ordinary. Funny how it took a war to see that they were all just children and all being used as pawns in a bigger game.

There was also, for Draco, the realization that he had a bit of a crush on Potter. He found that he actually really enjoyed the other boy's company; he enjoyed his snarkiness and the way that Draco could see mischief in his eyes. He liked the way Potter listened, liked the way he always seemed to want to casually touch other people. He liked him, plain and simple.

But other than the unlikely truces turned friendships (and in the case of Potter, turned crush) nothing weird happened, no one tried to kill him (or other students), no prophecies were unveiled, there were no dementors, no psychopath teachers, nothing. It was almost enough to make Draco bored.

Almost.

There was nothing strange until one unassuming morning in March, when they were all sitting in the great Hall, eating breakfast, and quizzing each other for the upcoming test in Transfiguration.

Potter interrupted the heated debate that Draco was having with Granger with a blurted, "What the fuck?"

Everyone looked over at him, including Hermione and Draco, to see what had happened.

"There's a tulip in my coffee cup!" the other boy said.

"So there is," Draco replied in amusement.

Everyone chuckled and Potter tried to figure out who had put the bright yellow tulip there but Draco really didn't have time to think about that because he and Hermione were back to arguing about Transfiguration theory.

He probably wouldn't have thought about it again but that evening as they got ready for bed, Draco felt a strange twinge in his magical core, like you got when you were preparing to cast a strong spell.

Before he could really dig into what had happened, Potter's bed curtains flew open, "Alright, you lot," he said, a laugh ruining the stern look he was attempting. "Who put this here?" he asked, holding out a red tulip that he'd apparently found on his pillow.

(Read more below the cut)

Each of them denied having any knowledge of how the tulip could have found its way into Potter's bed, but a bit of unease settled in Draco's stomach. Potter put the second tulip in with the first in the vase on the windowsill and laughed it off.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, there was a story he'd been told as a child. A story that he couldn't quite grasp but filled him with a bit of apprehension none the less.

Still, this was nothing like the sort of anxiety that Draco had been accustomed to forcing himself to sleep through for the past few years, so he put it from his mind and went to sleep.

And again, he might have been able to forget about it, if it weren't for the fact that the next morning he felt a tug at his magical core and then a few minutes later, Potter appeared with another tulip. White this time and he'd found it in the pocket of his robes. "Seriously, what the hell you guys?" he laughed.

Everyone else laughed too, but Draco frowned, the memory of the story niggling at the back of his mind once more, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

He continued to try to remember throughout the rest of the week and Potter continued to get tulips. They showed up in his book bag, the showed up in place of his quills, they showed up on his plate at meals, they showed up everywhere and anywhere. One even replaced his loofa in the shower.

By the end of the week, Potter was getting a bit irritated and he'd had to enlarge the vase multiple times to fit all of the tulips. Draco wasn't sure why Potter hadn't just thrown them out, but it wasn't his place to say anything, certainly.

On Saturday, when everyone had gone off to Hogsmeade for the morning, Draco fire called his mother.

"Draco, darling," she said, smiling at him, "I'm so pleased to hear from you. How are you?"

He endured the predictable pleasantries before he said, "Listen, mother, the reason I called," he paused there because this was all a bit ridiculous. "Well, it sounds silly really, but there was a story you told me when I was little," he said. "Something about a wizard who had flowers appear out of nowhere? I can't remember it."

"Why?" she asked, her face serious. "Draco, why are you asking me about that story?"

"No reason," he said quickly. "It's just something that came into my head," he lied.

"Who's receiving tulips, Draco?"

"It's nothing!" he repeated. "And I never said there were any tulips."

"If I tell you the story, will you tell me the truth?"

Draco sighed but nodded.

"The story," she began, "was about your great, great, great uncle Silas. Silas was a difficult man, everyone always said so. He was haughty and rude; he was quite clever but not terribly gracious about it."

"Mother," he interrupted, his knees were growing cold and sore from kneeling on the common room floor, "could we just skip to the meat of the story."

"Yes, alright," she sighed. "Long story short, Silas fell in love with a muggleborn. His family obviously refused to let him get married, assuming that the love would fade eventually. There was an arranged marriage in there as well, but that's not really important. What is important, is that the person he fell in love with began to find tulips everywhere. Every time she went to pick up something, it turned into a tulip; at her home, her work, everywhere she went, tulips."

Draco felt something in the pit of his stomach drop. This couldn't be happening.

"He was pining for her, heartbroken that he couldn't be with her," she said. "Now, magic can't create something from nothing, so in each of the tulips was a little bit of Silas' magic."

"Like a horocrux?" he asked in horror.

"No, darling, nothing so sinister as that. But the flowers were slowly draining his magical core and he was growing steadily weaker." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "So, as the story goes, when he was so weak he could barely summon the strength to stand, he went to her to confess his love. What did it matter if he was going to die? When he told her of his love, she kissed him and his magic was restored. The family was convinced that it was true love and that the love that bound the two of them together was obviously stronger magic than that of blood status."

Draco rubbed a hand over his face, "So, this was a true story?"

"Yes, it's all rather well documented as it would have to be in the case of something like this." She gave him her most commanding look, "Now, I've held up my end of the bargain, so it's your turn. Tell me who's receiving tulips, Draco."

"Harry Potter," he whispered.

Her eyebrows rose, "You have to tell him, Draco."

"I can't!" he said, shaking his head, "You know I can't. He couldn't possibly feel the same way, he couldn't possibly love me, too-"

Something shattered behind him and he yanked his head back to see the boy in question standing there, bouquet of tulips in his hands. The vase had dropped and been smashed, water was soaking into Potter's socks but he didn't seem to notice.

Draco promptly ended the fire call with his mother and wondered if it would be possible to transfer to Beauxbatons to complete the year. It was either that or he should just go off to die.

"How much of that did you hear?" he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.

"Most of it," Potter confessed with a little wince. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop but then I heard her talking about how everything in that girl's life became tulips and I knew you were talking about me. I didn't realize how the story would end," he hastened to add. "I just thought that she might know something about a curse or spell that had been cast on me."

Draco rubbed his forehead, "Look, could you just forget about the whole thing?"

"Forget about it?" Potter asked, sounding a little hysterical at this point. "Draco, it turned six quills into tulips in the past three days. Six!" he shook his head. "No, I can't forget about it and I certainly can't let you die."

Draco stood up and balled his hands into fists, "Always ready to play the hero aren't you?"

"What?" the other boy asked, obviously taken aback.

"Ready to play the martyr," he sneered. "Well I won't have it. I won't have you tying yourself to me just because you're afraid that I'll die if you don't return the sentiment."

"But I already do return the sentiment," Harry said, sounding bewildered. "Sorry, maybe I should have said so, but I thought that was obvious from the story."

"What?"

"Well, your mum said that it was true love's kiss that restored his magic, true love that made it possible for the flowers to appear in the first place. I just assumed it was obvious that I was in love with you, too."

"You are?" he whispered, hardly daring to believe that this was possible.

"Yeah," Harry replied with a little shrug. "I mean, I thought maybe it would have been good to start with a date or something," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "It's why I'm still here, I wanted to invite you to go to Hogsmeade with me."

"You did?"

Harry nodded again. "But I'm glad to kiss you, for the unselfish reason that it will restore your magic," he said, glancing down at the flowers in his hands before looking back up, "And for the selfish reason that I would really just like to kiss you."

"You would?" he asked.

Harry huffed at him, "Are you going to stop sounding like you doubt every word out of my mouth?"

"Sorry, it's just-" Draco started but then Potter was across the room, dropping the tulips as he cupped Draco's face in his hands and leaned in until they were a mere inch apart.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked softly, his eyes flickering between Draco's.

"Yes," Draco breathed.

Harry gave him a little grin and leaned in to kiss him, his soft, full lips, gently caressing Draco's, and Draco felt like his heart stopped beating for a moment before a surge of magic, and joy, and love came rushing in and filled him to bursting.

He wrapped his arms around Harry's waist and pulled him in closer and Harry hummed, molding his lips to Draco's for a moment before pulling back and resting their foreheads together.

"That was-" Draco started.

"Fantastic," Harry agreed. "Do you feel better? Not going to die on me or anything?"

Draco laughed and pinched his side, "I think we were a long way off from that."

"I don't know," Harry replied, tilting his head to press a kiss to the tip of Draco's nose. "There were an awful lot of tulips."

"Yes," Draco replied, pulling back to look at the tulips strewn about the floor, "And you've dropped them all on the ground. That's quite rude, you know."

Harry huffed at him, "Prat," he said fondly before drawing away to swish his wand and collect all of the tulips and put them back into the repaired vase. "So," Harry said, "I think tulips may be my new favorite flower."

"Mine, too," Draco replied with a smile.

And when they got married, two years later, there were tulips everywhere.

Day 15: Wings | Day 17: Salt

[aminiatureworld]

Honesty

Characters: Kaeya, gn!reader

Word Count: 2,830

Warnings: None

Premise: Some habits just turn bad over time, and not matter how much we try they can be terribly difficult to stop.

In which Kaeya keeps to himself.

Author’s Note: This was requested by a lovely anon! I thank you once more, and I hope that this was as you envisioned it. Also didn’t expect this to be so incredibly long but I hope that’s not unwelcome!

Kaeya is one of my favorite characters to write, but I also find him one of the hardest as well. He’s very good at slipping through your grasp, and it can be hard to convey such an outwardly complex and flirtatious character without making him a cardboard cutout. But it’s also incredibly gratifying when you think you’ve done it well. I hope this is one of the times.

Non bulleted pointed version on Ao3

It wasn’t that Kaeya wasn’t used to attention. It was simply that he wasn’t used to your attention.

I mean Kaeya was hardly the most innocent man in Monstadt; almost everyone spoke of the handsome and slightly ill-behaved cavalry captain. Kaeya certainly did nothing to discourage the talk, or the flirting, not when it was so fun. It felt good to be looked at for reasons, well if not positive at least they weren’t in the same league as the notoriety he’d picked up otherwise. Disapproving citizens were certainly better than a disapproving brother, especially since said brother had a habit of parroting Kaeya’s darkest thoughts.

Of course Kaeya wasn’t looking for anything when it came to said flirtations. Not only because the appeal was never there, at least not in any legitimate sense, but because Kaeya secretly felt he was a bit of a burden, something he’d never even admit to himself. And no one wanted a partner with emotional baggage. If there was anything Kaeya was quite sure of it was that. And he hadn’t the time, nor really the ability, to fix all his problems, if he wasn’t permanently broken already. Better to keep away from any firm attachments, one that might ruin the lives of those around him.

This admittedly terrible conclusion was all perfectly fine in theory, but then you’d arrived and it’d all fallen to the wayside.

You were perfection to Kaeya, in more ways than he could count. He loved your smile, as well as the various other expressions you pulled, whether snarky or appalled or excited; he loved the way you laughed, even when you complained it sounded vaguely seal like at some points and like you were dying at others; he loved your every mood and whim, no matter how silly or reckless. He loved when you had a temper and when you showed more restraint than he did, he loved when you acted like a character you’d just read about and he loved when you later got embarrassed by it and begged him to forget it. The list went on and on and on, so many things did he love about you. Most of all he loved that you never seemed in a hurry, not that any of the others had, but the boundaries had shifted quite a bit this time.

So what had begun not so much as flirtation but as awkward friendship blossomed into something more, and Kaeya knew it. Not that there was any proper confirmation, but really was there a need? He told himself that the idea was ridiculous, no need to make things official. Besides, it wasn’t as if Kaeya had changed much at all. Indeed he’d done quite the opposite, determined not to let things shift in the way you two interacted.

Of course he’d excused his actions. After all, though the knight had many contradictory opinions of himself, of his actions, of his past, but they tended towards the negative. He was evil, he was cruel, a shameless opportunist and a failure even in that. Most importantly, in regards to the matter at hand, Kaeya tended to think that he was in no position to enjoy a proper and serious relationship; it wasn’t in him. He’d only bring disaster upon his head and upon the heads of those he loved. How could he let it happen?

That were what he told himself, what again and again he drilled it into his mind. And he ignored the small part of him that told himself it wasn’t any of that, the part which jeered that, if he were altogether truthful, the reason for a lack of meaningful reciprocation ultimately lay in the overwhelming fear he kept buried deep within himself. The fear of telling others about himself. About his actions, his opinions, his morality. The unpolished and deeply irritating bits that even Kaeya couldn’t stand.

But that was buried under too many layers of denial to play into what he was doing, and Kaeya had thoroughly convinced himself that his actions were for the good of everyone, yourself included. So the charade continue, with you saying more and more and Kaeya saying altogether nothing of consequence at all.

“Kaeya, what do you think of me?” You asked one day. It was a summer afternoon, the lazy kind, when all seemed static and half asleep. Kaeya was one of those things, and jolted to full wakefulness, surprised and ill at ease by the sudden question. You didn’t look at all upset, though maybe a bit bashful. The blush that dusted your cheeks and nose was the cutest thing, and if he weren’t so utterly afraid Kaeya might’ve wanted to tease you a bit, and see said blush grow a little bit deeper.

“What do you mean? You’re my fine adventuring friend.” He said, trying to relax once more, hoping the initial jolt of shock hadn’t been evident. It was hard to keep alert at all times around you, especially in what had just been such a relaxing atmosphere. But he had to keep calm and steady, suave as always. Who knows what might happen if not?

“Well I’m glad to hear that,” you began, cadence becoming a little slower, “I’m very glad to hear that. But, well, I was sort of wondering… if it might be a bit… different than that.”

“Is this a sudden confession?” Kaeya asked, tone light and playful.

“No!” You blurted out, gaze dropping. You started tearing at the grass slightly, but the action didn’t worry Kaeya too much. If it wasn’t a confession then it’d be easy enough to sneak out of, and then you two might go back to enjoying the afternoon as usual.

“It’s just…” you continued, staring intently at the ground “it’s just that I want to know. I mean I’m sure it’s obvious how much I care about you, well and truly care about you. You’re my closest friend Kaeya, but you’re also more than that. You’re my confidante, the first person I go to talk to about, well, anything. I said this wasn’t a confession, and it isn’t. But I want to know where we are. And I want you to be honest, what do you think of me?”

You lifted your head up, gaze piercing through Kaeya’s soul. He felt nothing in that moment but terror, the feeling of the ground suddenly giving way below him. What was he to say? What could he say? What did he think of you, the question seemed so simple but Kaeya found he couldn’t answer it, not truthfully. What you meant to him, well you meant almost everything. Kaeya loved you, loved you so much. He wanted to tell you everything about him, wanted to learn everything about you. He wanted to hold you in his arms and listen forever to your voice, to the things you had to say. He wanted to bask in your presence, to drown in it. He loved you, and he knew you loved him too; but it wasn’t that simple. He couldn’t do it, couldn’t tell you what he wanted to say, what you wanted to hear. It was for your own good, and, Kaeya was realizing very quickly, the idea of doing so, of confessing himself, of laying his soul bare, was something so utterly and completely frightening.

“Like I said you’re my dear adventuring friend.” Kaeya managed to get out, hoping there was no streak of falsehood in his voice. Picking up some of the torn up grass he scattered it onto your head, causing a groan of annoyance. Laughing at his childishness Kaeya steered the conversation towards another topic, hoping the former one would never come up again.

It didn’t, but Kaeya still sensed a change. It was gradual enough, indeed it was so gradual he hardly noticed at first. But eventually the change became too great, and Kaeya felt a distinct sinking sensation the first time he’d passed you on the streets on Monstadt and you’d done little more than smile, instead of running up like you usually did to ask him where he was going and tease him about missing work, sure that he was up to no good.

The initial realization having passed a bunch of little things came to the sudden forefront of Kaeya’s mind. Come to think of it you two never met outside of work anymore; gone were the days it seemed when you two would go for a walk after having sandwiches together, both complaining about the others work and wondering when you might ever have a break.

Gone too was the familiarity in some ways. When you two spoke now there was a formality, a distance that seemed to have popped up. You no longer asked Kaeya about his brother, and in return he stopped asking you about your own family, uneasy by the sudden loss of intimacy, and unwilling to be the one to break the barrier.

As the weeks passed by and you grew more and more distant Kaeya grew more and more frantic. He found himself thinking incessantly about you, about what you were doing, where you were going, whether or not you’d ever smile at him the way you used to, if you’d blush again at his teasing. A small piece of him knew that it was his own fault, and knew that it somehow connected back to the conversation you two had had in the summertime. But self-awareness doesn’t always mean change, and Kaeya still refused to do anything about it.

Then he started dreaming about you. He wasn’t sure why, you two saw each other less and less, and there was no reason for him to suddenly start these dreams, but somehow it’d happen. The dreams were mundane, painfully so. They were much like any other dream in content; the only difference being your presence. You were as before in his dreams, as if he’d somehow been able to rewind the clock, but only in his sleep. The two of you did this and that. You saved reckless Pallad, you rode Dvalin with the Traveller, you ran around the Winery, stealing glasses when no one was looking. Always you two were off, doing something completely normal, and always did Kaeya feel such joy that waking up felt rather like torture. He began to dread it, meeting you in his dreams. It felt painful, so very painful, as if he were betraying himself, as if he were betraying you too in some way. He shouldn’t’ve been dreaming of you, and yet he kept right at it, as if his mind were somehow unable to let go.

After three weeks of not seeing you Kaeya relented. He couldn’t go on like this, not one more moment. His work was becoming sloppier and sloppier, and he felt as if he hadn’t slept in years. He’d woken up in the middle of the night, so wretched from the whole situation that he felt like crying out of frustration. In the dark there was no one to pretend to, and he found himself staring at the curtained window, suddenly hit with his utter selfishness. He loved you, he loved you and you loved him, at least you had. And he’d thrown it all away, not out of any kindness or nobility, but out of his own fear, his own inability to be honest for even a moment. It was his fault that this was all happening, and as such he had to make amends.

He found himself at what had been your normal after-work meeting spot, leaning against a squat sort of maple tree. It was the perfect meeting place, far enough from the city to be picturesque, but close enough not to be a trip. Now Kaeya waited, praying to Barbatos that you might, by some miracle, appear.

Evidently the Anemo Archon was in a somewhat favorable mood, that or Kaeya was simply lucky, for he spotted you about fifteen minutes later, walking leisurely towards the tree. You weren’t truly paying attention to your destination, instead glancing in the direction of Cider Lake, expression slightly clouded. Turning your head you stopped dead in your tracks, shaking your head slightly, as if you truly couldn’t believe the sight in front of you.

“I…have something to say.” Kaeya began, not altogether sure what that was. Once he’d come to the conclusion that he was the source of the whole problem it became evident that the only was to solve such a thing was through honesty. But it had been so long since Kaeya had been honest, really truly honest, and he now felt awkward and slightly shaky, as if learning to walk all over again.

“What is it?” Your tone, though surprised, held no hostility in it, instead it seemed vaguely curious. The thought gave Kaeya a bit of strength, and he drew himself up a little more, determined to see this through no matter what.

“I want to apologize for how I’ve treated you. I haven’t… haven’t been honest. I think you realized that, indeed I think you realized it long before I did. But, now that I’ve realized it I want to say I’m so deeply sorry.” He paused for a moment, not sure how to continue on. “Do you remember when you asked me what I thought of you?” He finally asked.

“Of course I do.” You smiled slightly, though it didn’t reach your eyes. “You said I was your friend.”

“Well I was lying.” Kaeya’s voice was blunt, the flirtatious tone that he usually put on nowhere to be found. “In truth you mean so much to me, so much more than I could put into words. You said that you weren’t making a confession, but I am. I like you, no, I love you. You mean more to me than everything, than my past, than my work as a knight, than my shame I carry in regards to my brother. Being around you is like soaking in the sun, or gazing at the moon, and I took it for granted. I took your entire presence for granted, and I understand why you felt the need to distance yourself. Our friendship was built on dishonesty, all because I was afraid. I am afraid still, so very afraid, but I find what I fear more than telling you all of this is never having the opportunity to. You’d don’t have to reciprocate, don’t have to approve of anything I just said. But if there’s any little bit of you that felt as you did this summer I want to apologize to it, and tell you I feel the same.”

The silence was deafening, oppressive. For once Kaeya found he couldn’t keep your gaze; his entire affect, his personality, it was all gone, and what was left was raw and badly kept. Shifting his gaze towards the lake he held his breath and waited for your answer.

He felt your fingers glance his. Snapping his head towards where you were he searched your face for something that might reveal what you were thinking, but you quickly looked at the ground.

“Thank you.” Your voice was no more than a whisper, but to Kaeya it was a lifeline, the fact that he was able to hear your voice once more. “Thank you for being honest.” You slipped your hand into his. “And to answer your unsaid question, I do feel the same way I did when I asked you before. And this too is now a confession, or rather an assent. I love you Kaeya, I’ve never stopped loving you. And though I may still feel a bit hurt by your lack of honesty then, I only ask you this,” you finally moved to look him in the eyes, your gaze misted over by hope and joy and a hint of sorrow, “will you be honest with me now?”

“Until the day I die.” Kaeya breathed out.

“That’s all I needed to hear.” You replied, dropping his hand and flinging your arms around his neck.

Kaeya immediately wrapped his arms around you, burying his face in your neck. “Thank you” he whispered, over and over again. The fear that had once filled his mind was no more, instead he felt as if he were floating, kept tethered to reality only by your embrace. He was relieved, but more so he was happy, so unbelievably happy. You’d given him a chance he’d never give himself; you’d opened your life back up to him, and now you two might never have to be separated again, not truly anyways.

 “Want to know something?” Kaeya asked, tone playful, as you two walked back to Monstadt, hands linked.”

“What?” You asked, slightly curious. Kaeya smiled, before leaning over and giving you a kiss on the cheek.

“I love you.” He whispered against your skin. And he meant it. With his whole heart he meant it.

[redgillan]

Under Pastel Skies - 10

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 6,179

Warnings: nothing new

A/N: Hey it’s me, daddy! ...well apparently. I really gotta take a chill pill... these chapters are getting way too long. But anyway, I hope you enjoy it, my babies are soft and sensitive :’) Thank you for reading, I truly appreciate it!

Wannabe sugar daddies don’t interact, idc if you have money, eat it and leave me be.

You looked around the bar while you sipped your drink, a 12 dollar grapefruit juice and club soda cocktail. There weren’t many people at one in the afternoon, mostly suits and wealthy tourists, though you half expected to find Natasha hiding in the back with a hat, a large pair of sunglasses and an unfolded newspaper.

From the rug to the chairs and armchairs, everything was either black or white. You ran your index finger over the intricate calligraphy on the back of your chair. It was a number: 5.

Turning back around, you glanced at the clock and mentally cursed yourself for always being so early. You hated being late, and arriving less than ten minutes early counted as late in your book. You were nervous to see Wanda after all this time.

You hadn’t been expecting her to stay at a hotel on the Upper East Side. You wondered how she could afford it, but decided it was none of your business.

“I had a feeling you’d be here already.” That familiar voice brought back fond childhood memories and other not so pleasant memories. “You’re always early.”

You didn’t move a muscle as Wanda took a seat next to you, number 6. She signalled the bartender and ordered a latte. Meanwhile you played with your straw, trying to subtly steal a glance at her.

“What did you do to your hair?” you asked with a grimace, turning your body toward her.

Without looking at you, she raised her brows in mild exasperation. “I dyed it.”

“It’s orange.”

“Okay,” she sighed. “I get it. You’re angry with me.”

“Oh,” you drawled out. “I’m well past angry. I was angry four years ago, now I just don’t care anymore.”

“You don’t care about me anymore?”

“No, and it’s not like you cared about me, or Scott, or Okoye.” You paused. “Or mom.”

Wanda had a shocked look on her face as she finally met your eyes. “That’s low. You have no idea-”

“No, you have no idea what it was like to live in that house after you all left. You have absolutely no idea,” you said, enunciating each word between your teeth, “because you weren’t there, because you left us –you left me. Six years, Wanda.”

She looked away and you saw her bottom lip quiver. She clenched her jaw and took a small sip of her latte. You instantly felt bad for snapping at her. You didn’t like confrontation. Hated arguing. You internalized. It was difficult for you to acknowledge that you had a right to express your feelings.

“I, uh,” Wanda said, then cleared her throat. “I knew you weren’t going to welcome me with open arms, and I know what I did was wrong, but I’d like us to be a family again. If it’s not too late.”

“It’s not too late,” you said with a small sigh. “But I’m not going to instantly forgive you just because you’re back.”

“I know.”

“What made you come back?”

She fiddled with her fingers in her lap and you noticed the ring on her fourth finger. It was a beautiful vintage-inspired ring made of black rhodium with an ornate cadenza halo in the centre.

A terrible thought occurred to you, making your stomach twist painfully. You didn’t know her at all. Not anymore. You had missed so much of your sister’s life. Or more accurately; she had cut you out of her life, and it was painful.

“I went to London,” Wanda said, unaware of your inner turmoil. “I saw Uncle Michael. He asked me if I was here to see mom, and I said, ‘No, mom’s in New York.’ And then he told me-” she tilted her head to look at you “-he told me mom was sick, that you and Okoye put her in a nursing home not far from his apartment. I didn’t believe him, so he took me to mom and she-” She paused, staring straight ahead as if she was caught in the memory

“She looked at you like she didn’t know you,” you said, knowing exactly where the story was going because it had happened to you too.

“Yeah,” Wanda breathed out, tears in her eyes. “I never felt so alone. They told her I was her daughter, but she didn’t recognize me. She kept asking Uncle Michael who I was, then she got mad because she was adamant she never had children.”

“I know,” you said sympathetically.

“I wanted to see you and apologize for not being the sister you deserve. For not being here when you needed me most.”

“Where were you all this time?” you asked, practically begged for an answer.

Her shoulders tensed and she straightened up in her seat. “Just travelling.”

“I know, I got your postcards.” You nodded toward the engagement ring on her finger. “I guess I should say congratulations.”

“Mhh,” she said running the pad of her thumb over the diamond. “It’s funny I never thought I’d fall in love and get married. I don’t need a man in my life to make me feel whole. Mom raised us alone, we’re independent and strong.” A small smile graced her lips. “But I found someone sweet and charming, someone who makes me feel safe and calm.”

“Are you writing your vows?”

“Har har,” she deadpanned, rolling her eyes, a faint smile on her lips. You’d missed her, missed your banter. “You haven’t changed.”

“If you say so,” you said in a sombre voice. You looked at the clock above the bar. “Listen, I have to go but I’m happy you found someone. I’d like to meet him one day. I bet he doesn’t know about your Baby Spice phase.”

You jumped off the bar stool and picked up your jacket. Wanda turned in her seat, catching your wrist as you looped your purse over your shoulder.

“Can you stay a little longer?” she asked, looking at you with pleading eyes. “Just a minute.”

“Okay.”

She let go of your wrist. “Scott’s been released last month. I talked to him on the phone and asked him to fly to New York. He should be here tomorrow. I also talked to Okoye, I asked her to come here. We have things to discuss. I know things will never be the same, not after Pietro, not after mom, but we can try. We’re still a family.”

“Great,” you replied. Your word came out with more force than you had intended, but you didn’t apologize. They were all coming back for Wanda but when your mother needed help, you were all alone.

“Yeah,” Wanda whispered, her eyes cast down. “I was thinking we could all meet up for dinner. Okoye’s bringing her boyfriend so if you... if you have a partner-”

“I’m single.”

“Oh, uh, you can bring Natasha if you want.”

“No, thanks.” You reached into your purse and pulled out one of your business cards. “Text me, okay? I really gotta go.”

She smiled as she read your card. “You’re an artist? Splotchy, I’m so proud of you!”

That damn nickname... “I still haven't found a gallery. Not many people want to represent an unknown artist but I’m not giving up.”

“You never give up,” Wanda said with a gentle smile. “That’s why I love you.”

You took a cab to Natasha’s apartment. It had been three weeks since Sam moved to D.C., and Nat was having a hard time finding a job in her field.

She didn’t want to find another sugar daddy. It seemed ridiculous since she was still carrying a massive torch for Sam. She had saved enough money to live on until she could find a job and a new place to live.

“I’m officially done,” she grumbled in lieu of a greeting. “Job hunting sucks. New York sucks. Life sucks.”

“Pretty bold statement.”

You entered the apartment and plopped down next to her on the sofa. With a groan, she wrestled out of her blouse and threw it on the floor, leaving her in a simple white spaghetti-strap shirt and a pair of black trousers.

“I hate wearing a suit.”

“You look good in them.”

“I know,” she cried out. “I hate wearing suits when it’s all for nothing. I’m not the boss, I’m no one. Just another doofus with a college degree standing here like-” she cupped her hands together, as if she was holding a bowl, and looked at you with a pout. “Please, sir, I want some more.”

“I don’t understand why you didn’t get the job,” you said, biting back a laugh. “I would hire you for that spot on Oliver Twist impression.”

She laughed. “I think I lost my fire. People used to be scared of me. Remember? I miss that.”

“You’re a psycho,” you snorted, using her shoulder as a pillow. “If it’s any consolation, Bucky’s terrified of you.”

“Good.”

“Hey!”

She pressed her cheek against the top of your head and sighed. You stayed in that position for a few more seconds before you told Natasha what had happened with Wanda. She offered to go with you to your family gathering but you insisted you wanted to go alone.

“I gotta go,” you said. “Bucky’s taking me to dinner.”

“Oh,” she cooed, “is he finally going to propose?”

“That’s very funny,” you deadpanned. “I was starting to feel cooped up in our apartment so we decided to go out. Have fun, y’know.”

“Our apartment,” Natasha repeated with a lopsided smirk before she burst into a fit of giggles.

“Whatever,” you grumbled, embarrassed.

“That’s cute.” She pinched your cheek and you batted her hand away. “You should talk to him.”

“Don’t start.”

“What? I’m just saying-”

“Natasha,” you cut her off. “Stop asking me to talk to him. It’s not going to happen, and it’s giving me so much anxiety. You couldn’t talk to Sam, what makes you think I can talk to Bucky?”

She looked at you for a long moment. “I know you love him.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, considering. You had never really been in love before but falling in love with Bucky had been so easy. And it was particularly scary because you had never been in a relationship, only flings.

“I do,” you admitted quietly. Saying it out loud was both freeing and terrifying.

“Don’t lose him.”

You knew Natasha missed Sam, she’d told you about it, but she wasn’t the kind of woman who let others see her pain. She confided in you and her friend, Clint, but other than that she rarely shared her problems with others.

Her bony shoulder was digging uncomfortably into your cheek so you shifted and let your head rest against her chest. She started playing with your hair. “Have you heard from Sam?”

“Not since he left,” she replied, then glanced down at you. “Have you?”

She tried to sound casual so you played along and acted like you couldn’t hear her heart jackhammering in her chest. “He called the landline the other day. Bucky wasn’t home so I answered.”

“The landline?” Natasha repeated with a scoff. “Your husband is old.”

“He asked if you were okay,” you said, choosing to ignore her comment. “You should call him.”

She stayed quiet for so long, you began to worry. You tilted your head to look at her, she had a faraway look in her eyes. You didn’t want to break her trance but she was starting to scare you.

You booped her chin and almost immediately a soft smile touched her lips. She cleared her throat, then checked her watch.

“You should go, you’re going to be late.”

“It’s okay,” you said. You couldn’t leave, not when she looked so sad. You knew Bucky would understand. “We can order some pizza, binge watch something on Netflix and go out for ice cream later. Like we used to.”

She laughed softly. “That sounds amazing. I kinda want to be alone tonight though, and Bucky’s waiting for you. I’m fine, I promise.” She looked down at you with a kind smile. “Rain check?”    

“Absolutely.”

With a heavy heart, you left Natasha and started walking to the restaurant. The clouds above you were low and dark, masking the setting sun. You smiled, remembering the day you and Bucky went to the park.

You had wanted to go paint outside but you got caught in a rainstorm on the way home. As rain poured down on the both of you, you caught Bucky’s hand and tried to run to the nearest subway entrance but he didn’t budge.

He stayed in the middle of the street, still holding your hand, and grinned at you while people rushed around you. His hair was plastered to his head, little rivulets of water running down his nose. He smiled at you, bright and playful, and you almost melted on the spot.

What’s the rush, sweet angel?

When you got home, you both changed into dry clothes and sat in front of the fireplace with a bowl of soup. He looked adorable with his slightly damp hair, a few big curls flopping down onto his forehead. When you started sneezing, he adjusted the blanket around you.

The next day, you felt a little feverish and Bucky took care of you. He pressed his lips to your forehead, checking your temperature. Your mother used to do that too. You doubted the accuracy of that little test but you couldn’t care less. It felt incredibly comforting. They should teach it in med school.

Bucky was waiting for you in front of the restaurant. The weather was warmer now, and you were pleased to see that his maroon bomber jacket was back. It was a rerun of the night you had met him.

“Hey you,” he said, dropping a quick kiss on your cheek. “How did it go with Wanda?”

“Good, I guess. It could have been way worse.” You paused to look at him. “You okay? You look a little nervous. We don’t have to-”

“I’m okay,” he chuckled, smoothing his hand down his jacket, lightly patting his pocket. “Shall we?”

You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Promise me you’re not over-exerting yourself again.”

He stood in front of you, smiling kindly. “I promise.”

It had been a while since he had a panic attack, but they were always impressive and you couldn’t stand the thought of him trapped in his own mind, battling his demons alone.

You must have been silent too long because Bucky cupped the side of your face and said, “Thank you for taking care of me, angel. But I promise you, I’m fine. So what do you say? Wanna have dinner with me?”

You playfully rolled your eyes at him as he flashed you a cocky grin.

The restaurant was a quaint little place in Midtown with curved black leather booths lining the walls and simple cutlery. There were books everywhere, arranged neatly on the shelves along the walls. The place was well-lit, yet still cosy and calm.

Despite the hour, the restaurant wasn’t crowded. There was a couple, probably in their sixties, enjoying their meals together. Several people were eating alone, a book opened next to their plate, and a few others were browsing the shelves looking for something to read.

While you ate, you filled Bucky in on your conversation with Wanda. He didn’t interrupt you, he listened to you ramble on about how much you didn’t want to go to her reunion dinner.

“You can invite them over for dinner,” he said. You almost choked on your food. “Call me crazy but I think you’d feel more at ease if you were in a familiar environment.”

He had a point. You had no idea what that night had in store for you, and you definitely didn’t want to cause a scene in a restaurant. You weren’t one for airing your dirty laundry in public.

“I know that our... um, friendship is a little unconventional but I’d like to meet them.”

“Really? Wait,” you said, spotting a bit of tomato sauce on his chin. “You have something on your chin.” You reached over and used your napkin to wipe it away. “You eat like a wolf.”

“Mhh thanks.” He swallowed his mouthful of pasta and washed it down with a gulp of water. “To be honest with you, I’m a sucker for family reunions. I love watching people’s faces when they see someone they haven’t seen in a very long time.”

“I’m not sure it’ll be a happy one.”

“Well, then you could probably use some moral support,” he said. “And I’m curious if they ever gave you a silly nickname. Or maybe they’ll share some funny anecdotes.”

You stopped mid-bite and swallowed quickly, your eyes widening in fear. You couldn’t let that happen, Scott and Okoye would jump at the chance to tease you. “Oh, no, no, no! You are never meeting them.”

He laughed. “I bet you were a cute kid. I imagine you in some paint-stained overalls, hula hooping through the 90s, listening to the Spice Girls and watching Saturday morning cartoons with a bowl of cereal or a plate of pancakes.”

“You’re not too far off.” You grinned.

“You don’t have to make a decision right now,” he said in a more serious tone. “But think about it, okay?”

Inviting your siblings and their partners over for dinner was a bad idea. You could already picture their faces upon seeing Bucky. It would turn into an interrogation, and it would be absolutely unbearable.

But then again, you didn’t think you could endure the reunion without him.

The waiter came over to collect your dirty plates and asked if there would be anything else. He recited the dessert specialties and you ordered something that sounded both extravagant and mouth-watering.

“I have something for you,” Bucky broke the silence between you.

You responded with a curious yet playful frown and a tilt of your head. He glanced down at the table for a second as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a slim jewellery box.

He placed it on the table next to his glass and let his fingertips linger on the lid, caressing it slowly as he hesitated. Then with a smooth flick of his wrist, he slid the box across the table. Your eyes flickered between the box and Bucky’s worried expression.

Inside the box, nestled in cream velvet, was a gold artist’s palette pendant with a delicate chain. The pendant had two paint brushes sticking out of the palette and four tiny stones representing the colours waiting to be mixed; ruby, sapphire, emerald and topaz.

It was incredibly tiny, about the length of two staples, but it made the details even more impressive. You could tell it was an old piece. There were light signs of wear and the design reminded you of the 1930s. It looked full of stories from previous owners. A testimony of love, passion and devotion.

“Oh,” you gasped as if all the air had been punched out of you. Bucky straightened up and jerked forward in his seat, his eyes round with anticipation. “Oh,” you repeated dumbly, at a loss for words.

“I saw it in the window of an antique shop on the way here,” he said.

That was a lie.

He had spent weeks searching for the perfect charm. He had a very specific idea of what he wanted to buy. Until one day, he found it. It reminded him of you; delicate, discreet, irreplaceable.

“Bucky,” you sighed, spellbound. “It’s... it’s beautiful.”

“It reminded me of you.” He met your eyes, smiled, and extended his hand in your direction. “Can I?”

Without hesitation you removed the necklace from its box and gave it to Bucky. After living with him for about six months, you knew there was nothing he couldn’t do. Even fasten your necklace with one hand.

He stood up and rounded the table, sitting next to you on the booth. You turned, giving him your back as he slipped the necklace around your neck. You held the pendant in the little dip between your collarbones at the base of your throat and let the ends of the chain dangle down your back.

“I noticed you haven’t been painting a lot since-” Bucky trailed off. Since you had a meltdown in your studio, since you realized your art was not good enough. Since you realized your dreams were too big to accomplish.

You looked over your shoulder and watched him fumble with the spring ring clasp. You couldn’t see what he was doing but he seemed entirely focused on the task at hand.

“Inspiration is a fickle thing, it comes and goes,” he continued. “I worry about you. You put too much pressure on yourself visiting galleries and trying to match their vision. I want you to remember who you are. You’re an artist. Never doubt yourself or your skills.”

He secured the chain around your neck and adjusted the necklace so that the little palette fell nicely above the neckline of your sweater. You stared at him wide eyed and amazed, and he smiled tenderly at you.

“Thank you,” you said quietly. “I’ll never take it off.”

“My pleasure, angel.”

“I really love it but it’s too much,” you said as he returned to his seat. “I don’t want you to think I’m after your money. I’m so grateful for your help, you do so much for me already.”

“I know you’re not after my money, but it’s mine and I’ll spend it as I please. I know you like gifts with meaning. And all I want is to make you happy.”

“You want to make me happy?” you asked, dumbfounded.

“Of course, I do.”

It was a foreign concept to you, you could hardly comprehend it. He wasn’t your childhood best friend, he wasn’t your brother or your mother’s brother, and yet he wanted to be the one who put a smile on your face.

You weren’t used to random acts of kindness. You spent most of your life taking care of others, making sure they had everything they needed, you forgot what it was like to feel loved.

And it all became so much clearer.

You knew in your heart that your feelings for Bucky weren’t one sided. Not when he looked at you like that. Not when he touched you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

There was a mutual, yet silent, understanding between you. This is good. Let’s not make things complicated. Even though we both want to.  And you abided by that unspoken rule, not wanting to make things more complicated.

Your eyes were overflowing with tears. When a tear escaped, you felt it bounce on your cheekbone before it landed near your pendant. You rolled your eyes at yourself and smiled.

“Why am I always crying?” you said, laughing a little. “I’m not sad, I swear. These are happy tears.” Bucky’s smile was calm and sure. “Wait, I’m just gonna-” you trailed off, wiping the back of your hand under your nose with an embarrassed laugh.

“You’re beautiful.”

You lay in bed that night, replaying those three words in your head until you fell asleep.

It took you a couple of days to come to term with the realization that your feelings weren’t one sided. A little voice in your head tried to protect your heart, it said: Don’t get your hopes up. Remember what happened last time.

But that voice was quiet, almost too quiet to hear.

Against your better judgement, you agreed to invite your siblings over for dinner. All you had to do was call Wanda’s hotel and ask the hotel staff to pass along a message. Easy-peasy.

Well, in theory, because it turned out to be stressed depressed lemon zest.

There were things Bucky didn’t know about you and your family, things that you had intentionally kept from him. One of these things was your brother’s criminal record.

Bucky had asked you a few times what Scott did for a living and you always gave him the same rehearsed answer. “Scott has a master’s degree in electrical engineering but he’s between jobs at the moment.” It wasn’t a total lie but it wasn’t the whole truth either.

You finally decided to tell him everything.

Scott was a thief. Before Cassie was born, and thanks to his computer skills, he used to steal from criminals and give back to those they had stolen from. He promised his wife, Maggie, that he would stop after Cassie’s birth.

He took up a job at VistaCorp but noticed that the company was overcharging their customers. Thinking that it was a coding error, he fixed it before his boss, Geoff Zorick, ordered him to change it back. It made him realize that the company was intentionally overcharging their customers.

He was fired soon after. Maggie begged him not to get involved, she begged him to think of his family but Scott didn’t listen. He broke into the company’s headquarters, hacked their system and redistributed the stolen money. Then he broke into Zorick’s house, stole a bunch of stuff and drove Zorick’s car into the pool.

He got five years.

Bucky was a little shocked but he took these new revelations well.

“People make mistakes,” he said. “He paid for his mistake, and not seeing his little girl for five years is punishment enough.” He bumped his shoulder against yours and grinned. “He sounds like a chaotic Robin Hood. I can’t wait to meet him.”

You chuckled. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Nope.”

“So... you’re not going to hide your valuables in a closet somewhere?”

“I would but I’m not sure you’d like to be stuck in the closet all night.” You rolled your eyes and huffed, thinking he wasn’t taking you seriously. He laughed quietly. “The only valuable thing I own is the bookmark my niece made for me, everything else is meaningless. And I don’t judge people on their worst mistakes.”

“You sound like Natasha,” you chuckled lowly. “But I’m glad you think that way.”

“That being said, they have a lot of apologizing and making up to do. They left you all alone. It isn’t right.”

You squirmed in your seat. “Argh, I don’t know. It’s in the past now, I don’t want to dwell on it. We were all miserable back then, and I’m not exactly blameless here.”

Bucky gave you a puzzled look. “You took care of your mom when she was sick, you sold your childhood home. You found your mom a nursing home where she gets the best treatment possible. You put your dreams on hold to pay her hospital bills. You did everything you could.”

“No, that’s not true,” you replied, biting your bottom lip.

You tried to find the courage to say it out loud. It was something that ate away at your soul. Your biggest mistake.

“I should have known something was wrong with her,” you said, rushing the words out. “At first she started misplacing things like her car keys, her glasses or the remote. She always had a good excuse, like was tired or stressed, but I should have known.”

“I misplace my keys all the time, angel. Sometimes it doesn’t mean anything. You can’t blame yourself for that.”

“She’s my mom, I’ve known her all my life. I should have noticed something was wrong. If I had, maybe she’d still be with us, living in our old house.”

“C’mere,” he said, extending his arm toward you. You didn’t hesitate, you abandoned your seat on the sofa and wrapped your arms around him, your face buried in his chest. “I understand why you feel that way,” he said, stroking your hair. “But you did everything you could. You didn’t fail her. Alzheimer is... well it’s a sneaky disease. There are a lot of things we don’t understand. It’s unfair to blame yourself for something completely out of your control.”

“Maybe,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against his shirt. “But it still hurts.”

“I know,” he cooed, his fingernails grazing your scalp. “I know, my angel.”

You stayed like that for some time, your cheek pressed against his shirt. You focused on the calm rhythm of his breathing and tried to match it. He gently ran his fingers up and down your back, calming you almost instantly.

You were terrified to see your siblings again. Despite Bucky’s reassuring words, a part of you still believed that you could have done more to help your mom, and you were afraid your siblings would feel the same.

“It’s going to be okay,” Bucky said, seemingly reading your thoughts. “I won’t let them belittle your efforts.”

The next day, you called Wanda’s hotel and left a message with the receptionist. Wanda called you back a few hours later, saying that she would love to have dinner at your place instead of going out.

She sounded surprised, and you could tell she had a lot of questions, but she knew she wasn’t in your good graces yet so she simply told you that she couldn’t wait to see your apartment and spend the evening with you.

Meanwhile Bucky was having some sort of nervous breakdown.

A few days before the party, he started to obsessively clean his apartment. Every single room had that distinctive lemony scent, his homemade disinfectant, except your room. It was still a line he refused to cross no matter how strong the urge might be.

He often had those spells but they usually didn’t last more than a few hours. You could see the tears in his eyes and the disgust on his face; grimaces that had been triggered by the realization that he still couldn’t control his need to constantly clean and tidy. His OCD had been dormant, not gone.

You knew it was hard for him to meet new people. He had offered to invite your siblings because he knew it would make you feel more at ease. He didn’t care about his own needs. This man was willing to endure anything for you. How could you not fall in love with him?

You let him clean. You knew from past experience that it wasn’t something he could control and getting involved usually did more harm than good. You made sure he knew you were there and that you were not judging him in any way.

He felt so physically and emotionally drained afterwards that you simply held him in your arms until he fell asleep.

On the day of the party, you were chopping dried apricots in the kitchen while Bucky was making sure the chicken pieces weren’t sticking to the bottom of the pan.

You had wanted to order dinner from the restaurant down the street, and Bucky wanted to cook. You told him that cooking a meal for seven people was pretty stressful but he simply shrugged.

“I can do it, angel.”

“I know but you don’t have to do it.”

“Yeah, I do,” he replied with a sad smile.

You remembered him telling you that his ex-girlfriend often babied him in front of her friends and that it always made him feel weak and pathetic. He wanted to prove himself. He wanted to prove that, even with only one arm, he was able to cook a meal for an entire family.

“Okay, fine,” you reluctantly agreed. “But you’re not doing this alone.” He opened his mouth to protest but you raised your hand and touched a finger to his lips. “You can’t change my mind. I’ll be your sous-chef, and that’s final.”

So you ended up cutting vegetables for him. He made two tagines, one with meat and one with vegetables, in case anyone had any allergies or dietary restrictions.

Once the kitchen was spotless, you both went to your rooms to get ready for the night. It didn’t take you long so you checked on the tagines and waited for Bucky. The smell of harissa and coriander wrapped around you like a comforting hug.

You stole a dinner roll and checked the time on your phone. Nearly seven. A wave of anxiety rolled through the pit of your stomach. You took a deep, calming breath and decided to go check on Bucky.

As you reached the top of the stairs, you heard a deep, frustrated groan followed by a whine. Stifling a giggle, you tiptoed down the hallway towards his bathroom.

“C’mon, stay put or I’ll cut you!”

“Do you often threaten your hair?” you asked, leaning against the door frame. He gasped and jerked away from the sink. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Is everything okay?”

“I can’t do anything with my hair,” he complained. “I’m this close to shave the whole damn thing.”

You pushed yourself off the door frame and moved toward him. “Mhh, why not. A buzz-cut would make you look super dangerous.”

“You think so?” he frowned.

“Yeah,” you replied enthusiastically as you perched yourself on the counter by the sink. “A buzz-cut and a beard. Now that’s a look.”

He ran his hand over the dark stubble on his cheeks. “I already have the beard.”

“You’re halfway there.” You watched him consider what you were offering. “You know what, never mind. Your hair is too pretty to cut.”

“I should cut it though. It’s getting too long, I can’t style it.”

“Oh, poor you with your thick, fluffy hair,” you teased.

“It’s a gift, and also a curse,” he sighed with a whimsical grimace.

You laughed. “Come here, I’ll help you tame the monster on your head.”

He chuckled as he stepped between your parted legs. You took the hair dryer and a comb from the counter and started working on his hair. Despite its messy appearance, the comb ran smoothly through the strands.

“I think we need a safe word tonight,” you said while you worked.

“A safe word?” he repeated, confused. “Why would we need one?”

“Just in case,” you replied with a shrug. “I love my siblings but they can be quite a handful. So if you’re tired or if you feel overwhelmed, you just say the word and I’ll politely ask them to leave.”

“All right. Same goes for you.” He made a face. “What’s the safe word?”

“I don’t know,” you said, your eyes focused on his hair. “Flamingo?” You pulled back to look at him. “I saw an amazing documentary about baby flamingos the other day. See? It works.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, laughing. “Flamingo it is.”

You picked up his hair gel and applied some to his hair.

“There you go,” you said, smoothing the hair over his temples before sliding your fingers down the sculpted curve of his cheekbones. “Ready to break some hearts.”

It was a joke, but your voice came out breathy and small. Bucky didn’t say a word. He pressed himself closer to you, and you resisted the urge to wrap your legs around him.

He rested his hand on your thigh, then slid it from your thigh to your waist and lingered there for a few seconds. He gazed into your eyes for a moment; careful, cautious. You cupped his face between your hands, feeling the bristle on his cheeks against your palms. It was rough against your sensitive skin.

He slid his hand up your side, fingers passing over your ribs, and you let out a gasping sigh as he rested his hand over your heart.

“Did I break your heart, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice low.

“Just cracked.”

He cupped the back of your neck and massaged lightly while he looked at you longingly. He continued to stare at you as you moved your hands to his chest, feeling the strong thud of his heart beneath your palm.

“I-uh,” he started, then licked his lips. “Angel, I-”

The intercom buzzed loudly, awakening the two of you from your trance. Bucky took a step back and closed his eyes. You were glad you were sitting, because your legs felt unusually weak.

“You ready?” he asked, breathless.

You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you nodded.

You followed Bucky to the kitchen and answered the intercom, giving Wanda the apartment number. Bucky busied himself setting the table, unable to look you in the eye. You didn’t know what to say.

Finally, he stopped moving around and faced you.

“Who am I tonight? Who do you want me to be?”

You had anticipated his question. After all it was a legitimate question to ask giving the nature of your relationship.

“Just you,” you told him. You were tired of lies and half-truths.

A knock at the door startled you.

You opened the door, your hands shaking uncontrollably. You couldn’t help but gasp at the sight of Wanda, Okoye and Scott standing in front of you, each with a bottle of wine. There were two men behind them, both looking extremely uncomfortable.

“Hey Splotchy, long time no see, right?”

Part 11

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Monstrous Secrets Chapter 8

Eris Vanserra x reader

Word Count: 1720

Summary: You and a couple of the guys have a heart-to-heart

You were home, or rather, you were in the physical place where you lived. It was difficult to call Velaris ‘home’ when your home was really a person, your mate. It was even harder to call this place home since Azriel started looking at you like he wanted to spit on you at any given moment. You’d expected to be treated that way once everything came to light, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t loathe it with every fiber of your being.

It was in a fit of this general discontent that you found yourself sitting on the ground of the balcony outside the House of Wind’s library. A bottle of wine, half empty already based on the weight of it, dangled from your fingertips as you stared blankly into the fire and longed for the male that could make such flames dance like sprites. Eris’s notes from your time apart rested on the ground before you, some resting against or on your leg because you’d simply dropped them after reading.

“Cass told me I’d find you here,” Rhys said as his feet entered your field of view. “Though I’ll admit I thought he was exaggerating how much you’d been drinking.”

Your eyes darted over to the other two, empty bottles you’d abandoned back when you’d been sitting in a chair. “Yes, well, you know how my tolerance is.”

“Considering how many men you’ve drunk under the table? Yes, I’m fully aware.” Now, he brought himself low enough that he could meet your eye on your own level. The most powerful High Lord, kneeling beside his low fae cousin on the ground.

You snorted at the sheer ridiculousness. “Whatcha doing here, Rhys? I figured you’d be off with Feyre.”

“She had things to discuss with Amren or else she’d be here talking to you with me.”

You took another drink. “Well in that case, lay it on me.” Your arms spread wide dramatically, one hand holding the bottle, the other a letter; your wings flared slightly behind you in an effort to keep you balanced. “Ask me anything you want! I assume it’s about that gorgeous mate of mine.”

He rolled his eyes and took the bottle from you. “I won’t insult you bya skiing what Azriel wants me to.” Rhysand took a long drink.

“Oooooh, let me guess!” You did your best to make your face as stoic as the shadowsinger’s. “Have I been selling secrets to the Autumn Court?”

“Close,” he snickered. “Has she been giving away secrets to the Autumn Court?”

You scoffed. “As if I’d give them away for free!” 

“Sweetheart, you’d never spill them either way.” His eyes were somber, caring. “You would never betray us like that, so I have no need to ask.”

“Then what do you need to ask?”

“First, I want to ask about your bargain.”

“You makin’ sure I didn’t give away anything important?”

“I want to know that it was your choice to make whatever deal it was.”

Your brain stalled out in light of his genuine concern after so many days of people being wary of you, and your buzz fizzled a little because of it. “It was a deal of protection,” you explained seriously. “He’ll watch my back as long as I watch his sort of thing.” You stole back the bottle to take another drink. “And what a fucking job I did.”

“You couldn’t have done anything against her,” he assured you, “and if you had tried, more likely than not, you’d both be dead right now.”

“Whatever, Rhys,” you scoffed. “What else?”

“You are not less than him because you’re Illyrian.” You’d known the topic was coming, but you didn’t expect him to be quite so blunt. “And if he treats you like you are, I’ll kill him myself.”

“Then you can stop worrying, because he doesn’t. Hasn’t even said anything to imply it--get that look off your face right now. Anything he said to you was an act because we were backed into a nightmare of a corner, and you know it. Anyway, he hasn't made any jabs implying it--accidentally or otherwise--since we first got together.”

“Put a stop to that, did you?” He was smirking as he swiped the bottle back to drink once again. 

“Of course.” You hesitated. “But he and I are both aware of what others will think; just look at your parents. That’s why, or at least part of why, we kept quiet about the whole thing.”

Rhysand was nodding as if pleased.

“That all you’ve got, cousin?”

A little snort escaped his nose. “As far as being concerned goes, we’ll say yes for now.”

“And as far as everything else?”

“Since you’ve so cruelly left your poor cousin in the dark about your relationship for--how long was it again?”

“‘Bout five hundred years--”

“Five hundred years! Because you've left me in the dark for so long, I want to know everything about the two of you.”

“Everything?”

“Everything.” He waved a hand a little. “That you’re willing to share, of course.”

“Rhys . . . I don’t  . . .” You weren’t used to this. You’d never had to share anything about your relationship before. You weren’t good at talking about yourself. “I don’t know where to start.”

A low hum rumbled through the air along with the telling thuds of someone else’s boots.

“Why don’t you start with that letter you’re holding?” Cassian abruptly dropped down next to you, so close he was lightly pressed against your side. It was such a casual closeness that the pair of you had had for centuries, and you didn't realize how much you loved it until it was missing. Its presence now brought tears to your eyes, but none fell.

Blinking them back, you stammered, “Um. It’s how we talked . . . when we couldn’t see each other.” A self-deprecating chuckle ripped its way up from your throat. “Apparently he’d been sending them since just after Amarantha, and I never knew since I don’t live down there anymore. I’m only just now getting around to reading them.” Carelessly, you handed it over to Cassian. “You can read it if you want; I was going through them all, but I can’t exactly see straight enough to read anymore.”

He eyed you warily before opening it gently. Clearing his throat before he read,

“I hope you are doing well, and I hope moreso that you have not finally come to your senses and decided to leave me. I’ve been trying to keep my emotions from bothering you in case you have, but Father has proven to be harsher than ever before in light of everything that has happened over the last half-century. It’s all I can do to keep him from deciding to hunt down Lucien.

Cauldron, I don’t even know if you’re receiving these messages or if you even care and yet here I am droning on about my own problems. I’ll leave this here, then.

I miss you, and I love you always,

Eris”

Both men were silent for a breath.

“Who would have thought that Eris Vanserra of all people would be so rambling in a letter?” Cassian eventually teased--only slightly awkwardly--to break the quiet.

“He stopped trying to be eloquent in our notes about five years in.” Your buzz was definitely on the way out now, and you found yourself listlessly leaning against Cassian. Neither male commented about the more romantic sentiments in the letter. You wondered why that was. For your privacy or their own comfort so they didn’t have to think about the fact that Eris did in fact have feelings.

“What’s the first thing you think of when you think about him?” Rhysand prompted quietly, obviously wanting to know more about the relationship despite the awkward aura that’d descended upon the little group.

It may have been because you were actively looking at a fire, but you didn’t really have to think about the words that came tumbling out of your mouth. “Did you know that he can make shapes out of flames? He used to make little dogs and foxes to play with Lucien when Beron would upset him.”

“I thought he hated that kid,” Cassian mused.

“He had to keep his distance to keep Beron’s attention away from him; he swore to his mother that he’d protect him.”

“What else comes to mind?”

You swallowed thickly. “He interrogated me about how to care for my wings when I showed up injured once.”

Rhys’s violet eyes flashed. “Injured?”

“Took a bad crash through some trees on the way to see him; I think I was dodging some scouts. Either way, he hounded me about it until I taught him all I could.”

“Seriously?” Cassian again.

“Yeah.” You could feel the dopey smile spread across your face, but you didn’t want to stop it. “Cleaning, first-aid, the whole deal. And the best part? He never has cold hands.”

“Unlike you, huh?” Rhys teased. “Nothing but cold hands.”

“Truer words never spoken,” and unexpected but familiar voice said from behind you.

As soon as you laid eyes on him, you were stumbling to your feet.

There was a warmth in his eyes that had nothing to do with flames when he caught you and pulled you close.

Immediately, you buried your face in his neck. “How?” you whispered into the pale skin there.

Eris’s hand moved to rest atop your wing where it was tucked against your back, sending a delightful shiver down your spine. “That would be a question for your High Lady.”

You glanced over your shoulder and saw that, sure enough, Feyre was now holding hands with the now-standing Rhys. “I thought you were with Amren?”

“I lied,” Rhys shrugged. “Eris was down there plotting with Keir, so I asked her to go grab him for you since you’ve been feeling down.”

When tears started welling up in your eyes, you blamed the alcohol. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, little cousin. Now, I think it’s time for us to turn in.” His eyes shifted to look at your mate; surprisingly his gaze wasn’t near as icy as you would have expected. “Take care of her.”

“Until my dying breath.”

“Never a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ with you people,” Cassian scoffed, “is there?”

You smirked on behalf of your husband. “Never.”