#so pleaseee stop putting this shit on my dash thanks | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

red1culous · 4 years ago

Text

Oh part 1

Part 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7

Standing in front of that imposing building you felt your resolve falter slightly. It looked as though nothing had changed in years. Even the grove of trees that lined the driveway, tall and graceful, seemed to be frozen in time.

One foot in front of the other, you coax yourself.

You suck in a laboured breath and walk into the large courtyard stopping once again as you take in your surroundings. You had hoped to be able to come and go without notice but the gravel covering the courtyard was doing a great job in announcing your arrival.

This is new, you think to yourself slightly amused at your naivety thinking things would have stood still just because you left.

You hadn’t been back in over a decade after that little incident and if anyone had told you you would be standing where you were right now, you would have laughed in their faces before smacking them across it.

You walk through a smaller sylvan courtyard of blooming orange trees. In its centre you see a fish pond. Smiling you look into it and search for the red and gold koi you had put there when you built the pond as a birthday present for Tony. It swims up to the surface as if it recognises you and if it weren’t for the boxes you were lugging about you might have even bent down to poke at its mouth.

For a split second you consider turning around and walking, no, running away. Screw the freshly baked muffins that were precariously balanced on you. You could just head back to the shop and sell them off at half price. You didn’t need the huge commission that the Avengers had agreed to pay for them. No you definitely didn’t need it…

…you also definitely did not need your business partner chewing off your ear about passing off said commission.

Think of all the rich people eating your food? you can hear her clawing voice bounce about in your head.

In truth you knew that the Avengers could easily afford a better baker. The best pastry chefs this side of the globe would happily saw off their left foot to be able to cater for them. But Pepper rings your mobile phone, claiming she meant to actually dial the shop, to place an order…a significantly large one…one she knew you would not be able to resist.

“Shit…” you mumble under your breath seeing the cause of your stress marching towards you a huge smile on her face.

“Is that how you greet an old friend?” Pepper says holding onto your upper arms and leaning in to place air kisses on your cheeks.

“No of course not…it’s just…umm…” you stutter as your heart thumps so hard it rattles its ribcage.

“I know…it’s a little weird being back” she says hands still holding you in place as if she knew you were about to bolt right out of there.

You shrug chuckling a little. “It’s stupid isn’t it?” you adopt a wide smile which had always been effective when dealing with difficult customers.

“Don’t give me that look” she swipes at your chin, “and it’s not stupid either. Just so you know, we’re all on your side.” She adds giving you a sympathetic look and you calm slightly at her words.

“Thanks Pep.”

“Ok you head in. I’ll meet you inside in a bit, you don’t mind do you? Tony ordered a grand piano and it’s just arrived…” she trails off.

“Sure, I know my way around” you say smiling as she squeezes your arms before letting you go. Of course you knew your way around. After all, this had been your home too for over 5 years.

5 years of bliss with her.

You mentally chide yourself. Nope, not gonna go back there.

As you climb the white marbled steps that led to the main door of the mansion you steal a glance at the silent looming windows glinting in the early morning light. You hesitate a little seeing a shadow pass quickly across one of them.

Shit.

Shaking your head, yet again, you finally reach the large oak doors. The bright and zesty scent of your lemon muffins waft into the air and as you are about to ring the doorbell the solid doors open revealing a tanned and muscled man in a shirt way too small for his body.

“STEVEN!” you shout whisper as his face splits into a wide grin.

“Y/N! Wh-what are you doing here?” he almost engulfs you in a hug stopping at the very last moment realising your arms were occupied.

“I-I…umm, muffins?” you return his grin looking down at your packages.

His eyes widen a little before taking some of the boxes from you. He balances 3 with ease in one hand as he pulls you inside. “No I mean I knew we had ordered from you…,” he says walking with you towards the kitchen, “…but I thought you said you were going to send a runner or something.”

“Well I was but our regular guy called in sick” you say gently placing the boxes onto the kitchen island.

“Well isn’t that unfortunate” he eyes you winking when you catch his gaze.

You roll your eyes at him. “No Steve, it’s the very opposite of what you mean.”

“Oh come on Y/N,” he shuffles up beside you to bump your shoulder, “it’s been so long.”

“It has...but hey! I get to see you again!” you bump his shoulder back and he pretends like it hurts him. “Ok so these need to be consumed within 3 days…”

“Woah woah woah now…” he cuts you off, “…you’re talking like you’re about to leave.”

He gives you a sad pouting face. His crisply parted hair makes him look like a choirboy albeit a very well built one. You almost feel sorry for him.

“Steve you know I don’t belong here” you say fingering the hem of your shirt.

Your answer seems to baffle him. He straightens up and stares at you for a moment narrowing his eyes slightly. “I’m skipping my morning run just to hang out with you, so you can at least spend some time with me.”

“Steve…” you protest before he cuts you off again.

He raises a hand in your face. “Not hearing any of it” he says grabbing yours and leading you out of the kitchen, “…we’re going to take a walk and you’re going to meet some of your family.”

You knew there was no use arguing with him. The death grip he had on you meant that you couldn’t even try to make a dash for it. “Steve if she…” you add and he cuts you off. Third one in a row. This was getting ridiculous.

“Shh!” and that was final. He leads you into the giant library where that vapid painting by Albert Ryder still hung on the wall. You hated that massive eye sore and always wandered what Tony liked about it. You’d always pegged him for the colourful extravagant type and this painting was just so out of character.

“Sam! Look who’s here?” Steve’s voice bellows out interrupting your thoughts. Your eyes trail up the curving mahogany spiral stairs that Steve is looking at and onto another floor of bookcases that were bathed in sunlight pouring in through a round skylight on the ceiling.

“OMG Y/N?!” Sam almost shrieks as he bounds down the steps at a dangerous pace to collect you in a massive bear hug. “What are you doing here?!” he adds still crushing you in his arms.

“I came with the cupcakes…” you giggle as he picks you up and twirls you around. “Th-They brought me as their plus one.”

He puts you down to really look at you as if committing you to memory. A large smile sits on his face. “I see the sass is still there?”

“It never really left, big guy” you raise an eyebrow smirking as he hugs you one more time.

“Pleaseee tell me you’re here for the party?” he groans wrapping an arm around your shoulders looking at you hopefully. “Parties here have been so sad since you’ve been gone.”

You hum about to answer as out of nowhere two slender arms wrap around you. It knocks the wind out of you and you instinctively hug back letting the smell of cinnamon and spice invade your senses. “Wanda!” you yelp.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming” she squeals smacking you across the arm.

You giggle at her pout. “I didn’t know I was coming, malyshka.”

She grins at your use of the word. “Ok let’s go” she says to a chorus of groans.

“Excuse me! You are not taking her any where!” Sam blurts out grabbing your free hand.

“Sorry guys but I found her first” Steve adds standing in front of you and placing an authoritative hand on your shoulder his fingernails biting into the flesh there.

“Guys…” you cough nervously, “how about we take a walk…together” you say quietly and sigh in relief as everyone starts smiling and pestering you with questions again.

I guess nothing’s really changed after all.

---

Tagging: @thewidowintheweb @natasharomanoffismywife @imnotasuperhero @cybeleceto @silverwing2522 @thelastavenger-3000 @peggycarter-steverogers @rooskaya-yelena @blackwidowromonoff @lesbian-x-blackwidow @nowthisisliving27 @izalesbean @aaron-despair @marvelfansince08love @rileigh519 @wannabe-fic-reader @hcartbyheart @marvel-randomness @thewitchandtheassassin @username23345 @xixxiixx @rebeliz777 @summergeezburr @frostedfavesmain @higherfurther-romanova @sapphicluxanna

#oh #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #redfic

384 notes · View notes

you-andthebottlemen · 7 years ago

Text

43- AU

“Request: “can you do an AU where van is a prince pleaseee”

UMMMMM. Okay. So.

I don’t know if the anon meant ‘prince’ as in medieval or present day so I went with medieval. I have never written fantasy or medieval stuff like this. It is not factual (though I did do some research). It is whatever my brain thought of. It was weird to write and probably even weirder to read, I imagine.

Also, I changed the request ever so slightly, I hope you don’t mind ahhhhh. In my defence, the change I made, made for a better-written story. It flows better, clicked in my brain instantly and the idea made me excited to write. That is a very good sign. I actually really like this fic lol.

When I first got the request, I messaged @storiesaboutvan like “uhhhh Van wouldn’t be a prince, he’d be a fucking peasant” - so, here you have it. And thank you to Rhi for helping me edit this!

Also, in this fic I imagine young Van. 17-18 years old. DM me for photos of the exact Van I’m imagining lol. It’s so weirdly perfect. Think I’m a bit in love with peasant Van. I can imagine it waaaay too well.

So thank you for this request anon. You challenged me, but in a good way. I hope it is something you still enjoy despite my little burst of creative license.

Love youuuu x

****************

You walked down the dusty, crumbly stone road with your usual entourage surrounding you; a luxury you wished you didn’t have. The knights’ clanking armour echoed in your ears every time they took a step on the cobbled stones and you had to grit your teeth in an effort to simply stay sane. People buzzed and bustled, some stopping dead in their tracks to get a glimpse of you. You smiled kindly but tried not to meet their eyes.

The poverty they all lived in hurt you and you wished you could do something for them. But you had to sit in that tower, looking down on everything, day in and day out, letting your father take care of it. It was a rare occasion that you’d be allowed down here like that; it was always bittersweet. It was sad and miserable in the town, but you preferred it to the castle. The castle wasn’t real. Those people, down here, they were real. You didn’t like your silk gowns or your expensive bed sheets. You didn’t like the court jesters who desperately tried to make you laugh. Most of all, you didn’t like being a princess.

The market was busy as usual, with people flogging their wares and buying and selling goods and services. Various animals roamed the streets, often with their herders chasing after them. The sun was hot and everywhere smelt bad; people sweating, food rotting, literal shit in the gutters. It wasn’t a nice place. But people smiled, laughed. There were wandering minstrels playing the flute, others singing and strumming a fiddle or small guitar; playing with extra flare as they passed you by. It wasn’t a good life there, but it was the best life the people had.

You wanted more than anything to be normal, invisible. To escape your life. The staring, hungry and jealous eyes made you feel miserable and uncomfortable. You knew your privilege wasn’t fair and you felt guilty for being so unappreciative. But there was nothing you could do about any of it - not your feelings and not the sheer unfairness of the world around you.

“Would you like a peach, Princess?” an old lady with a large cart full of fruit asked you.

She had skin like old leather, wrinkled and tough, but her eyes were sparkling and the brightest green you’d ever seen and gave her a softness you’d not expect. Hiding behind her ever so slightly, clinging to her ragged dress, was a small child with the same eyes, her granddaughter.

“They’re ripe and fresh, perfect for summer time. Sweet like you, dear,” she continued after you hadn’t responded. You’d been too busy looking down at the little girl.

“They look beautiful. How much for a bag?”

“For you, they’re free, Princess,” she smiled, placing one in your hand. You noticed how rough and calloused the skin on her hands felt.

You were about to put up a fight when suddenly, in the distance, you heard a loud crashing sound. Your head snapped up and you looked through the crowded market, but saw nothing. Soon after, there was a large ruckus and shouting ensued, making people stop what they were doing to look. You still couldn’t see anything but could hear running footsteps and the familiar noise of clanking armour.

Chickens clucked and you could see geese swatting their wings. A cart of apples got knocked somewhere uphill and the bruised fruits came tumbling down the path. The footsteps were getting closer and so was the shouting. Everyone was frozen, trying to get a look at the commotion.

“Get that boy!” a knight yelled.

You whipped around to where he was pointing and saw a young peasant boy sprinting through the crowd, ducking behind stalls and weaving between people. There was a grin on his face and a large string of knights behind him who had no hope of catching him, but were trying anyway.

He locked eyes with you as he ran past, a few lanes over. His grin only got wider when he realised your eyes were tracking him. Despite his pace, you could see his shaggy brown hair flying in the wind and his crooked teeth a mile off. People watched as if it were a comedy act; eyes glued to the disorder but not doing anything to help.

You were surprised the three knights around you hadn’t joined the chase or carted you away yet. They were just as enthralled with the action as everyone else.

“There! He’s there!” a woman yelled, pointing at the blacksmith’s lot.

The boy dashed out from his hiding place, running with all his might, this time towards you. You kept your eyes on him, full of curiosity. Why was he running? What had he done?

Before you knew it, the boy had burst through the crowd and was weaving past the knights beside you, who were too stunned to grab him. Suddenly, he was stood in front of you.

“My lady,” the boy said smugly, taking the peach from your hand. It all happened so quickly that the only thing you noticed in the moment was that he said ‘my’ as if it were ‘me’.

While looking right at you, the boy took one large, cheeky bite out of the fruit, handed it back, gave you a small bow and an enormous grin then bolted back the way he came. Onlookers gasped. You were so utterly gobsmacked that your eyes probably could have fallen out onto the floor. The clanking knights, who were running out of puff, had more than certainly lost him. By the time you looked in the direction the peasant boy had run, he was long gone.

“Are you alright, Princess?” a voice asked. You didn’t look to see who it was but it sounded like one of the knights.

You nodded calmly and glanced down at the child with the green eyes. The little girl clung to her grandmother even tighter and stared back at you with an unreadable expression.

“It’s okay,” you said, crouching down in front of her, “it was only a boy.”

“A boy who likes to cause trouble,” she replied with a squeak and you smiled.

You were ushered away by the knights and you had to oblige. You gave the old woman a gold coin, not taking any more of her fruit, but clung to the peach with the single bite taken out of it, letting the juice drip down your hand as you walked away.

..........

The peach sat on your windowsill, slowly shrivelling in the open air. Perched on your bed, you watched as it dried up and started to go brown in the sun. The whole time you thought about the peasant boy with the blue eyes and devilish grin. The funny brown hair and the big teeth.

You’d been taken back to the castle quickly; everyone was worried for your safety, though you knew the boy was harmless and you couldn’t help but laugh when your father suggested putting a bounty on his head. You’d made sure no harm would come to him; he was only young after all. He still had pudgy baby cheeks and pimples on his chin. Probably the same age as yourself.

Out your window, you could see the small huts and houses that dotted the greenery of the outskirts of town. A thick layer of trees and bushes lined the boundary of the castle. You despised the wall that circled the place, keeping you away from the world and the world away from you, separating the people that lived inside from those outside. It wasn’t right.

You sighed and laid back on your bed, glad to be alone. The boy’s cheeky grin playing on your mind. He seemed to have nothing, yet was full of joy and mischief. You were jealous. You had your sewing, your books and your clothes. Not to mention the outrageous feasts every single night. You had the life that everyone outside the wall dreamed of, craved. But you weren’t born to be a princess and you knew it. It wasn’t for you at all. You had dreams of children running amuck in a cottage in the green countryside, with dirty hands and dirty hair. Animals and a vegetable patch that would sustain you. A husband who would love you. A completely normal life. But you were eighteen the following summer, due to be married off. You were dreading it. You wanted real, raw love and you knew that the marriage would be about politics, not romance.

As it was only midday, you had duties to attend to for the rest of the evening. You carried out all you were required to with as much interest as you could muster but that mischievous boy with his brilliant blue eyes and terrible haircut kept you distracted every second of it.

...........

Being the only daughter of the King and Queen, you had to attend every event and be present for all momentous occasions. The opening of the castle gardens was no different. You sat in your extravagant golden chair beside your parents and watched from the great stone balcony as the gates were opened and the public flooded through. You were excited, happy, but also felt a twinge of something you couldn’t quite put your finger on; you felt like it was just another way your family could show off. You tried to push that aside and take joy in the fact that people seemed to be enjoying themselves. You could see children running between the trees playing games and hear their laughter, their mothers and fathers walking hand in hand behind them. It made you nostalgic for your own childhood, running between the very same trees.

“May I go and visit the gardens?” you asked hopefully. Your father nodded and instructed you be accompanied by a knight.

Once outside, you walked in the shadows, not wanting to be seen. You simply wanted to people watch. There was a group of children who were play fighting with wooden swords and pretending to be knights. Two girls off to the side had handmade crowns; they were pretending to be princesses just like you. You wished the gardens were open to the people all the time. You glanced over at the knight who was stood very non-discretely beside you and sighed.

“I’m going to my chambers,” you said suddenly. “You don’t need to come with me.” You smiled to hide your lie.

“Nonsense, Princess. I must accompany you,” the knight argued.

“Please. I will go straight there. I have er- some ladies business to attend to,” you lied awkwardly. His face looked dumbstruck and he nodded.

You were surprised that worked. He must have been new. Nonetheless, you were happy to be alone and headed in the opposite direction of your chambers once you were sure you were out of his sight. Walking through the courtyard, you greeted the odd passer-by, though it was mostly empty. The rose garden was always your favourite so you wandered over to see if anyone else had found it.

As you went through the gate, your eyes landed on a figure crouched down in the dirt by a small rose bush towards the back. With furrowed eyebrows, you approached them quietly. When you were close enough, you saw it was a boy or a young man.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice neutral.

The person jumped in fright and dropped the silver trowel they were holding. He stood slowly with tense shoulders as if he were afraid to see who had caught him. When he turned to face you, you couldn’t believe your eyes.

“Peaches!” the boy exclaimed, standing up all the way and letting his shoulders drop.

“It’s you,” you said stupidly, half amazed, half confused. “You took a bite out of my peach.”

You blushed realising how bad that sounded.

“Sorry about that,” the boy grinned, clearly noticing the accidental innuendo that had occurred.

His grin was infectious and though there was no need to, you couldn’t help but return his big cheesy smile.

“Um. So, what’re you doing exactly?” you asked, your voice going slightly high pitched, which was strange.

“I er- wasn’t doing nothin’,” the boy stuttered nervously, kicking the trowel away from him.

“Right...” you replied slowly, unconvinced.

The boy shifted his weight between his feet and bit his lip nervously. He looked upwards towards the sky and back behind you, trying to keep his eyes away from yours. He was definitely guilty of something. As you looked him up and down you realised just how poor he was. His clothes were dirty and mud stained. His cloth shirt, once white now a sickly light brown, had tears around the neck and his pants had holes at the knees. He was the definition of scruffy.

“What’s your name?” you asked, breaking the silence.

“Van,” he responded. A very unusual name.

“I know yours, so no need to tell me...Princess,” he smirked.

“Please, call me y/n. I hate when people call me Princess,” you admitted and it felt good.

“Think I prefer Peaches,” he winked and you chuckled slightly. Peaches it was.

You felt Van’s eyes on you; not gawking like most and not jealous like others. He was curious. You could tell because it was the same way you looked at him. His eyes traced over your silk dress that was pulled in tightly at the waist and fell to your ankles. Maybe there was jealousy for a split second, but it disappeared quickly.

“What were you doing at the market? Why were you running?” you questioned.

“Oh, that?” he laughed. You nodded.

“It wasn’t my fault, honest! There was this little kid and she ain’t got nothin’, see. She took an apple while no one was looking, hungry, you know? But this knight saw her and was a real prick about it, so I belted a tomato at him. Squished right on his chest plate!”

You burst out laughing; you wished you could throw a tomato at a knight. But you admired Van for standing up for the girl. If he thought she had nothing, it must be bad.

“You caused a right bit of chaos Van,” you smiled and he nodded.

He bit his lip to contain a grin and looked away as if he were shy. Van dug his toe around in the dirt and you fiddled with the ring on your finger, unsure how to fill the silence.

“What were you doing with the trowel?” you asked finally.

“If I tell, ya just gonna get mad and set the knights on me again,” he whined.

“I won't. Promise,” you said, sticking your hand out to do a pinky swear.

He smiled and took your pinky finger in his. You noticed that his fingers were long and bony and that there was dirt underneath his nails. He pulled your arm towards him and kissed your hand while it was in his grip. You blushed and looked away as he let it go.

“I was tryin’ to dig out a root so I can plant roses for my ma, at home.”

“Oh...” You were surprised, or were you?

The boy who stood up to a knight for a poor little girl who wanted an apple, who took a cheeky bite out of the sweet fruit in your hand and who ran from a stream of knights and drawn swords with a smile on his face.

“Take one,” you said simply.

“What?” his eyebrow raised.

“Here...”

You bent down, knees in the dirt and picked up his rusty, silver trowel. You began to dig away at the roots of the little bush and used your other hand to gently pull it out of the ground without breaking it. You’d always liked gardening but were never allowed. It felt good to get your hands dirty.

“You’ll get your dress all muddy,” Van said, kneeling beside you and evidently not caring about his own clothes.

You turned and gave him a look.

“Fetch that pot over there,” you instructed, ignoring his comment.

Van did as you said and you filled the thing with soil before placing the plant inside comfortably. As he leant down, you saw a thin gold chain and pendant fall out from the neck of his shirt. It was the only clean thing about him. It was shiny, well cared for. It looked far too precious to belong to a peasant boy such as Van, but you didn’t ask any questions. He watched you again with curiosity and what you thought could also be admiration or wonder. You could see the cogs in his brain turning hard, trying to figure you out; he never would.

Once the plant was safely potted you stood and handed it to Van.

“Here, for your mother,” you smiled. “The roses are my favourite. I hope she likes them at least half as much as I do.”

“You’re real kind, Peaches,” he said with a hint of surprise. You shrugged.

“Just don’t let anyone see you on the way out.”

“Never,” he winked.

The two of you walked towards the gate of the rose garden; both had mud stained hands and knees, neither of you caring. The sun was shining but you could feel the night coming. It was golden hour.

“Which is yours?” Van asked, nodding towards the turrets of the castle.

“That one,” you pointed, “second story window.”

Van nodded to himself and licked his lips. You looked at him for a moment, just taking him in. You were drawn to him completely and you weren’t sure why. His eyes were focussed on the castle and were shining in the light. His mouth was hanging slightly open and his front teeth on full display. His fluffy brown hair was long over his ears and cut off in a funny sort of fringe across his forehead. You couldn’t help but giggle quietly.

“Right. Well, I best be off, love,” Van sighed. “Don’t know how to say thank you, for these. I’m pretty shocked you’re letting me steal flowers from the royal garden, to be honest. Wait ‘til I tell Dad!”

“You don’t need to thank me. Just make sure you water them and look after them properly. They won’t bloom otherwise,” you said with a slight laugh, unsure of how much he knew about gardening to begin with.

Van nodded and grinned again; you knew you’d be seeing that face in your dreams for nights to come. He stood there looking right back at you for a few moments and you felt an unfamiliar feeling come over you. Your palms began to sweat and your stomach became alive with butterflies.

“See you soon, Peaches,” Van said and leaned in and kissed your cheek lightly.

You stood there, frozen, except for the hand you’d moved to your cheek where he’d kissed you. You watched him disappear again.

..........

It was a cold night, so you laid under your bed sheets looking for any warmth you could find, breathing hot air into your hands. The wooden shutters rattled slightly in the breeze and kept you awake. You sighed and rolled onto your side. Moonlight shone through the cracks in the shutters and over the decaying peach carcass that still sat on the windowsill.

Suddenly, you heard a bizarre scraping sound coming from outside the window. As the scraping sounds grew louder you could also hear small grunts.

You stood up and crept over to the window where you pushed the shutters open hesitantly. Through darkness you could see a mass, a figure moving slowly towards you, climbing up the side of the castle. It wasn’t bright enough to make out a face. You quickly closed the shutters and stepped back from the window, your heart rate escalating rapidly. You began to panic.

You stood like a statue in your bedroom just watching and waiting. You couldn’t scream and you didn’t run away either; you were planted to the spot in fear.

The shutters burst open and an arm reached through and hooked over the windowsill, knocking the peach to the ground. You squinted through the moonlight. Bony fingers.

You stepped closer slowly, inch by inch. After another grunt, a head popped up.

“Peaches!” Van exclaimed, though it was muffled as he had a rose clenched between his teeth.

“Van?!” you whisper-shouted; you received the shock of your life. It was the last thing you expected.

“Glad I got the right window...” he muttered to himself.

You rushed over and helped him tumble inside. As he sorted himself out, you lit some candles around the room so you could both see properly.

“For you,” he smiled, handing you the rose with a small bow.

“Shh...” you hushed. “Thank you, Van.”

Van had bits of leaves and twigs tangled up in his hair and a smudge of dirt under his eye; he looked a mess and even more than usual. With one hand, you reached out and wiped away the grime on his face. He was taller than you so you had to tip your head back slightly to see. Van was quiet and you could feel his eyes examining you. You didn’t mind. Not even that he was seeing you in your night clothes.

If your parents knew that a boy, let alone a peasant boy, was in your room they’d have his head on a stake and yours not far behind.

You sat back down on your bed and Van followed. You sat cross-legged on opposite ends and faced each other. He was wearing the same clothes you’d seen him in a few days ago. You weren’t sure he owned anything else, but that didn’t matter. Van’s eyes looked brighter than usual, even in the dark and only lit by the golden glow of the candle flames. He was young and funny looking, but he was beautiful too.

“What’re you doing here?” you asked, holding the rose in your hand and running your fingers along the stem where Van had thoughtfully cut off the thorns.

“Told ya last week I’d be seein’ ya soon, didn’t I?” he said smugly and you nodded. “Besides, don’t like the thought of you up here all on your own,” he shrugged and looked around the room.

You watched as he took in his surroundings as much as he could given the time of day. You wondered what was going through his head as he stared.

“Did you do that?” he asked in wonder and pointed at the tapestry on your wall.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“It’s amazin’,” he whispered, mouth hanging ajar.

You looked down and smiled, biting your lip as the flush of feelings you couldn’t explain washed over you.

“How’d you even get in?” you asked, changing the subject.

“Secret,” he winked, “but it wasn’t easy, I’ll tell ya.”

Van talked and talked, telling you about his family and his friends. There was one friend in particular, Larry, that he wouldn’t shut up about. It seemed Larry was more often than not his partner in crime, literally. It was interesting for you to learn about his life and that of the people who lived on the other side of the big wall. It saddened you but made you smile all at once. You loved that he was so content with the little things in life and so unbothered by the rest. He seemed completely unphased by the fact you were a princess and that if he was caught with you, he could possibly lose his life or be imprisoned. You did warn him, but he didn’t care.

“You’re not like, a normal princess are you?” Van said curiously and cautiously.

“And what is a normal princess, Van?” you asked sweetly, but mocking his word choice.

“You know, like, proper polite and girly and everything,” he struggled to explain.

“I am polite!”

“Yeah, you are. That’s not what I meant,” he shook his head in frustration and look down, trying to find the words. “A normal princess wouldn’t have helped me steal the roses, gettin’ all dirty and stuff....wouldn’t let some scruffy peasant boy see her in her nighty either,” he said finally.

You quickly pulled your hair forward so it covered your chest.

“And wouldn’t have kept that peach,” he smirked.

Your cheeks flamed red; lucky it wasn’t light enough for him to see.

“Yeah. I don’t like being a princess much,” you sighed and Van nodded, understanding.

“I know it’s selfish. Very selfish. But there’s a whole world out there that I want to go and see and a life I want to lead that I’ll never have.”

“And what life is that?” Van asked softly.

So, you opened your mouth and told him every little dream you had, every wish that filled your heart. They were like secrets and you’d never breathed a word of it to anybody. Van seemed to realise this and he just let you go, listening intently and nodding as you spoke. You told him about the cottage in the countryside, full of babies and animals. About the vegetable patch and the husband you’d love with your whole heart into your old age.

“I don’t see why you can’t have that,” Van replied innocently when you finished.

Your heart felt heavy.

“Because of who I am. As a princess, I have to marry who I’m told. I’ll be married off when I’m 18 in a few months. Don’t even know the man. I’ll probably have to leave here too and god knows where I’ll end up.”

Van looked sad and confused. “You can’t marry for love?”

“No,” you said, shaking your head.

“Then let’s run away. Let’s get you out of here. We can go somewhere no one knows your name and you can be whoever you want,” he declared, sitting up straight; completely confident in his idea.

“I'm eighteen; I can work and save up for us. Mum and Dad would let you stay with us too, for a bit and they wouldn’t tell no one!” he continued and you couldn’t help but admire his kindness and love his naivety.

“I can’t Van...you don’t understand...”

“Peaches. I understand plenty. You can’t live like this, you’re not happy. What’s the use of a princess who don’t wanna be a princess? You’re better than this, better than the keeping your mouth shut and sitting on your big chair,” he urged impatiently, trying to convince you.

“Not tonight,” you sighed again. As much as you’d have liked to say yes to the fairy tale of his, you hardly even knew him. You also had your parents to think about.

Van’s shoulders drooped and he looked down, fidgeting with his hands to occupy his attention. The candle light made his long eyelashes cast a small shadow on the delicate skin under his eyes.

“That’s not a no though?” he perked up suddenly, sitting upright and his hair moving with him.

“You’re right, Van. That’s not a no,” you smiled knowingly.

“We’ll get you that cottage, one way or another,” he grinned.

You and the mischievous, kind and courageous peasant boy talked all night, right up until the moment before first light so he could escape back out your window to wherever he came from under the cover of darkness. You woke a few hours later with the rose sitting on the end of the bed and the thought of running away to a new life, one with love and children and a house far away, fresh on your mind.

Only then, the other figure in your day dream had a face.

#catb #Catfish and the Bottlemen #van mccann #vanfic #van #VanFiction

66 notes · View notes